#If he ever does he's stuck and God help the ignorant bastard who tries to fit him into a neat little box without his say-so.

[theimpossiblescheme]

More thoughts about the 1950 Cyrano (because this play and this version of it in particular are about ten percent of my personality at this point):

**I think the brilliant thing about Ferrer’s darker moods is that he doesn’t slip into overwhelming gloom like Depardieu or fly completely off the handle like Jacobi—he just kind of…stonewalls.  The compartmentalization of an old soldier who’s learned to keep the battle and anything that isn’t the battle separate for your own sanity.  There’s a stoicism to his Cyrano, a sense that he’s actively trying to block himself off from any “weaker” emotion.  Even when he’s musing about watching a young couple in the street and wishing he could know what it’s like walking with a woman on his arm, and his voice gets so low and wistful, he quickly regains his composure and gives a little smile, like he’s apologizing for it and signaling that he’s “back to normal” now.  It gives you a sense of how jaded he really is underneath all that bombast and romance—people don’t want to see the Real You, so you’d better wall it off and be content with ramming into that wall a few times if you ever get tired of putting up that façade because that’s what you get for showing weakness.  There’s also this brilliant moment during the Battle of Arras where, without missing a beat, he plucks a musket out of the hands of a dying soldier and takes his place at the barricade.  Even Le Bret looks at him sideways because, on the surface, it’s such a callous thing to do… but there’s that compartmentalization again, except this time it’s a little less painful for him.  Leave everything but the battle behind.  Be content to die if you must, because there is at least glory in that.  Conceal, don’t feel, if you will.

**There’s nothing particularly graceful in the way Ferrer handles a swordfight—a rapier is a finesse weapon that doesn’t require a lot of movement, and yet he’s all over the damn place. He’s stamping and barreling towards his enemies like a hurricane, bending and diving like a hawk, throwing his entire body into the fight when all he really needs to do is flex his wrist and mind his feet.  But that sort of wild athleticism works because… that’s the character right there. Ridiculous and unorthodox on the surface, but holy shit look at that control how is he not leaving himself wide open this shouldn’t work at all and somehow it does and it’s beautiful.  And there’s that scene many years after Arras when we see Cyrano’s shadow gesticulating wildly, showing off as he tells the story to the new cadets, and we fully expect him to still be full of that same vim and vigor… and then we see that that’s not a sword in his hand. That’s a cane.  Oh…

(and we don’t see him wield it again until he’s moments from death and trying fruitlessly to fend it off just a little longer, while Le Bret holds Roxane back and murmurs, “He’s delirious…”)

**For all that Ferrer’s Cyrano gets pissy with Prince’s Christian at times and even actively angry with him on one occasion… when it matters—when it really matters…

He’s a part of Roxane.  He’s a part of him.  So even without knowing it, there’s that kinship, that almost-tenderness that always comes so close… if only they could see that about themselves at the same time.  It’s only after Christian’s death that Cyrano can talk about him with open fondness, acknowledging his bravery and nobility and even his unique beauty.  He’s not just this well-meaning, but infuriatingly thick kid whom he’s babysitting and tutoring for Roxane’s sake... he hasn’t been for a long time.  Struggling side-by-side, whether it’s for a woman’s love or against the Spanish, draws people together without them knowing it.  Christian is a hero, the sort that Cyrano could never be… if only he’d stated saying that with real admiration and affection, instead of sad resignation, before he’d been hit by a cannonball that night.

[saintshigaraki]

ONE DAY WE’LL REVEAL THE TRUTH (THAT ONE WILL DIE BEFORE HE GETS THERE)

title: youth by daughter

pairing: dabi x f!reader 

words: 1.7k

excerpt: But what is rage, you’d ask him, if not one of the many faces of grief? 

a/n: dabi my beloved (derogatory). this fic is my love letter to parentheses.

tags: angst, toxic relationships, explicit s*xual content, light choking, dabi is a bastard but he is a needy bastard 

in case you’d rather read it on ao3!

MDNI

He’s just outside the door. He hasn’t made a sound, but you know he’s there. You can feel it; in your blood, in your bones, in your marrow. 

(You’ve always been able to feel him, monstrous and cruel beneath your skin. An itch. An awful taunting itch. You’ve wanted him out since he first stuck his claws in you and buried himself deep, but he’s near impossible to shake. He won’t leave until he’s hollowed you out, until your flesh is no longer your own, until all that’s left of you is him. Until all that’s there, is what he believes there should be. 

He’s a self-important bastard like that.)

When he finally decides to open the door, he does so with a slam. It would’ve made you jump if you hadn’t been so focused on the skyline. Tracing the buildings, looking for stars you know you won’t be able to see. They get swallowed up, this deep in the city. Drowned out by light. 

(When you were a child, you didn’t quite understand how stars could vanish in the night. Weren’t they the brightest things in the universe? Burning and brilliant, even light years away? 

You understand it better now. How mankind has this nasty habit of ruining, of polluting, of blotting out things of wonder and then desperately trying to remake it in our own image.

It’s never as beautiful as what was, but it’s far too late for us to admit defeat now.)

He’s mad, burning up with fury. You can feel the heat of it, cutting straight through the heavy chill of the night air. It’s stifling, your balcony so small that he’s practically breathing down your neck with how close he is. Accompanying his presence, always, is the faint smell of burnt flesh he can never quite mask, no matter the amount of cheap aftershave he tries to drown himself in. 

He’d texted you, and you’d ignored him. For a week, you’ve ignored him and if there’s one thing Dabi hates, it’s when he gets ignored. 

He’s the one that ignores you, it should never be the other way around. 

You know that, of course. You know all his little unwritten rules. 

(Don’t ignore him is at the top of the list. Except, of course, during those nights when he thinks you’re asleep and he clings to you like a child, his tears burning where they touch your skin. Even his grief, you can’t help but think, is scorching.

On those nights, you’ve found it’s best to stay quiet. He wields his grief like rage and you’d rather not be caught in the crossfire.)

He’s waiting for you to talk, to stumble over your words, make some sort of vague attempt at an apology. It’s what you would usually do after you’ve broken one of his rules. 

But you say nothing, content to sit in the too-heavy silence. You’re tired. Of him. Of whatever it is you two have been doing. It’s the same stupid story, the same vicious cycle. A snake cursed to eat its own tail. 

He’s using you. He has been for a long while now. If you’re being perfectly honest with yourself, he most likely has been since the beginning. And God, it’s exhausting work, being used. 

Although, really, you’re not all that much better than he is. In the beginning, you were with him purely because he fascinated you. All his grief laid bare, and so vulnerable. So obvious and painful. Undeniable in its brutality. 

(Rage, he’d say, it’s righteous rage, not grief.

But what is rage, you’d ask him, if not one of the many faces of grief?) 

It didn’t take long for you to realize he’s chasing something. And it took you even less time to realize that whatever he’s after, is probably going to kill him one day. 

(You wonder if he knows he’s chasing his own death. You wonder if he’d care at all. 

He reminds you of Eve, eating the forbidden fruit. You think she’d take a bite of the apple, again and again and again if ever given the choice, even knowing the consequences. Even with intimate knowledge of the suffering to come. How could she not? How could any of us hold our fate in the palm of our hands and choose not to sink our teeth into it?)

He’s growing impatient beside you, burning up with it. If he touched you, you’re sure he’d melt your flesh straight to the hollow bone. 

But you don’t break. Just once, you want him to fall apart first. Just once, you want him desperate. 

(He’s always been so good at making you desperate, with a hand around your neck, just tight enough to leave you gasping for air, your back to his chest and his staples drawing blood, as he pounds into you so hard all you could do is dig your nails into his arm. 

His lips are right by your ear, you’re mine, he says. You’re mine. You’re mine. You’re mine. 

And God, with his cock hitting all the right spots in your cunt you’d believe it. You’d believe anything he’d said to you as long he just kept going. 

Say it, he hisses, say you’re mine. 

You don’t answer him right away, mostly because you can’t, not with the way he’s fucking you. You can’t catch your breath enough to form a sound, you can’t get your bearings enough to collect a single thought that isn’t Dabi Dabi Dabi. 

Annoyed at your lack of answer, he brings a searing thumb down to your overstimulated clit. You keen, arching, desperately trying to get away from the sensation that at this point is more pain than pleasure. 

Say it, he says again, there’s a strange sort of edge to it. Looking back you think it might’ve been desperation. Say it. 

When he presses down just a little harder, you finally crack. 

Yours, you gasp. I’m yours. Yours. Yours. Yours. 

He laughs, so deep in his chest that you feel it in your own. 

It echoes in your head for weeks afterward.)

“What,” he grounds out, low and furious, “the fuck.” 

It’s not a question. 

You turn towards him, at last. Though you can hardly see him, surrounded by shadows. There are glints of his piercings in the polluted light, a gleaming flash as he runs his tongue along with his teeth. But it’s his eyes that you lock on. Bright and a brilliant blue. Glowing and monstrous in the dark. 

(You’re reminded, once again, of the stars. Burning and burning and burning.)

With no preamble, you say, “I think I love you.” 

The air around you quiets. Like the city itself is holding it’s breath. 

It’s not a sweet confession under the moonlight. In the week since you came to the realization, it’s already started to fester, to rot straight through your bones. 

It’s a curse more than anything. You love a man whose chasing his own death. You love a ghost. Or, you suppose, a ghost in the making. 

Before you can say anything else (though really, what else is there to say) he cuts in sharply, meanly, “No, you don’t.” 

You can’t help but tilt your head at that. You don’t really know what to say. You don’t know if you’re supposed to say anything. His lips are pulled back, teeth bared, he’s gleaming and sharp, pulled so taught with tension you wonder how he’s even breathing. He reminds you, vividly, of a cornered animal. A scared one. Though he’s trying to mask it with annoyance, with a type of anger that toes the line of fury. 

He’s always doing that. Masking his fear with rage. Masking his grief with rage. Hiding any part of himself that might be perceived as weak, as soft, as vulnerable, under the guise of rage. 

You can’t imagine that it’s anything less than exhausting. 

Though you have to admit, you didn’t expect this response. You didn’t expect fear. You thought he’d be unbearably smug about it. Proud of himself for finally sinking his teeth into your heart. Ready to chew you up and spit you back out. You were ready for him to move on. 

You didn’t expect him to deny it. 

(He could be right, though you doubt he is.

You wonder what it means to love, you wonder how you’re supposed to love. You wonder if you can only love someone if you’ve seen the cruelest parts of them first. 

You suppose if that’s the case, then he might be right. 

You’ve never actually been able to force yourself to look up what exactly he’s wanted for. What exactly it is he’s done. 

Mostly because you’re afraid that even if you knew every last gory detail, it wouldn’t be enough to make you walk away. And how would you be able to look at yourself in the mirror, after that? Knowing exactly who you let share your bed? who cried scorching hot tears into your shoulder? 

Ignorance is bliss, they say. In your case, it could very well be your only hope for salvation.

But, you don’t really think there’s a set way a person is supposed to love. It’s what makes it so terrifying. It’s an unknown. And it’s so hard to not fear the unknown.)

“Dabi-” you start. 

“You don’t know what you’re saying,” he spits out. Eyes flashing, his hands stuffed in his pockets. 

You want to laugh at the absurdity of it all, of him trying to tell you what you do and do not feel, but you think he’d turn you to ashes for the slight. His pride has always been so easily shaken.  

“Dabi-” you try again. 

But he’s two steps ahead of you. He always is. 

He’s already turned around, hiding his face from view, opening the door. And you don’t stop him. You don’t see why you should. 

You can’t shake him from the path he’s on. You don’t think anyone can, really. 

Grief is all he has, it’s all he’s let himself have. It’s fundamental to him now. It’s all he is. And you’re sure he believes whatever he’s chasing is going to fill the hollow void it’s made of him. 

It won’t. You’re sure of that, at least, because even if he does succeed, what will he be left with then? 

You don’t say any of that to him, because you’re not his fucking therapist. And because you’re not so sure he wouldn’t kill you for it. 

It’s anticlimactic, watching him disappear into your darkened apartment. 

But all you can think about when you hear the click of the front door closing behind him is how honest his fear was, almost childlike. Remnants of a poor, grief-stricken boy. 

What a monster it’s made of him. 

a/n part two:

thinking about adrianne kalfopoulou’s ‘grief will keep you reaching back / for what is not there.’ 

i could not tell you why this took me over two weeks to write. i had a lot of fun with it though. dabi my beloved. go to therapy please. also i know dabi can’t cry but....let me have this.

[thebigbadbatswife]

Pushin’ Me Away

Summary - Y/N and Bruce Wayne have been dating for a year now, but recently he’s started pushing her away. Convinced he’s cheating on her, she goes to Wayne Manor to confront him, but ends up discovering more than she bargained for.

Warning(s) - Please only read if you are 18+, angst, smut, dirty talk, rough sex, fingering, batsuit kink, fluffy ending

Word Count - 2.7k

You and Bruce had been going out for the past year and it had been great. He was sweet and kind and caring. Nothing like the tabloids that had led you to believe. Constantly surprising you with flowers and gifts, taking you out on dates and the sex. Oh god the sex. It was absolutely phenomenal. Until recently that was.

In the past couple of months he only seemed interested in shoving you away. He was always busy. Late nights at the office, he claimed, but the last couple of times you hadn’t been able to reach his cell and called the office, you found out that he wasn’t actually there. Every question was deflected, he was no longer taking you out or surprising you and the sex had completely stopped. Every time you had tried to initiate it, he pulled away, said he was tired and that he needed to be up early.

At first all of it had confused you. Had you done something to cause him to push you away? And if so, why wouldn’t he just talk to you about it? After a lot of thinking, you eventually came to a conclusion. It wasn’t you that had done anything wrong, it was Bruce. He had to be cheating on you. It was the only thing that made sense. Not that you were surprised. You were so mundane compared to the other women he dated, it was only a matter of time before he got bored. It turned out he was exactly like the tabloids had described him. And it broke your heart.

You felt so stupid. You had actually fallen for him and thought you two could have a future. Everyone around you that had warned you about him had been right. He didn’t give two fucks about you and probably never did.

You had spent the entire night crying after your realisation. Curled up on the sofa under a blanket, eating a tub of ice cream and watching bad comedy films. As the credit started to roll on the third movie and you hit the bottom of your second tub you decided that you weren’t going to sit around and feel sorry for yourself. You were going to confront the bastard before walking out of his life for good.

Sure it was nearly three in the morning, but you didn’t care anymore. He thought he could cheat on you and get away with it? He had another thing coming! You set the empty tub aside and got up from the sofa. You headed toward your bedroom, got dressed and left your apartment.

As you pulled up to the Manor, you saw a couple of lights on through the windows. At least you knew he was home. You got out of your car and walked up the front steps. You were about to hit the doorbell when you noticed the door slightly ajar. You gently pushed it open and entered the Manor. You walked around the place to find it completely empty. No sign of Bruce or his butler, Alfred. Maybe this had been a mistake.

You were about to leave when you noticed the time on the broken grandfather clock in the hall had changed. Curious you walked over to it. Every time you had come to the Manor, the clock had always been stuck on the same time, midnight. Now it read 10:47pm. Upon further examination, you discovered a gap between the clock and the wall. You could feel a cold breeze coming from the gap. You went to move the clock when you got the feeling that you shouldn’t be there and that you should leave. If you had been anyone else, maybe you would have. Instead you shook the feeling away and continued to move the clock.

The clock moved surprisingly easily and you were now standing in front of a dark staircase that led down. The feeling from a few minutes ago came back even stronger, but you continued to ignore it as you took a deep breath and started your way down.

A million different thoughts ran through your head as you carefully followed the staircase down into the Earth. Was Bruce a serial killer? The documentaries you had watched on killers came to mind and it was almost always the good looking, charismatic ones. Or maybe this was one of those creepy sex dungeons that rich people supposedly kept. You’d find out soon enough

It wasn’t long before you started to hear voices. It was Alfred and Bruce and they were discussing… You?

  “Master Bruce, I really think you should tell her. If you keep this up I fear you might lose her.” Alfred said as he set the tray he was carrying onto the desk. On the tray was a cup of piping hot tea and a plate of cookies.

“If it keeps her safe, is that really such a bad thing?” he asked as he took one of the cookies.

“I just think you’ll regret it sir.”

“What makes you say that Alfred?” Alfred took a deep breath.

“I’ve just never seen anyone make you happy quite like she does.”

Not that he would say it out loud, but Bruce knew Alfred was right about that. It was no secret that he had been with his fair share of women, but none of them had made him feel the way he did with you. With you he didn’t need fake smiles and to pretend he was someone else. Nor did he need his flashy cars and expensive jewels. He could just be himself around you… or as much as possible without actually revealing the mask he wore most nights.

When your relationship had started to get serious, he thought of telling you. He got the feeling that he could tell you anything and you would accept him. At the same time though, he thought of the enemies he had made and if any one of them found out about you, the untold danger it would put you in. So he didn’t. He kept silent and hoped that you wouldn’t leave. But in recent months crime rates in Gotham had skyrocketed and his promise to the city, to his parents, had meant he had neglected your relationship quite a bit.

He wanted to take you out on dates and shower you in attention, but with his long nights, no sleep and long days at Wayne ENT, he didn’t have the energy. And he wanted to have sex with you. Why wouldn’t he? You were gorgeous and it was mind blowing, but he couldn’t risk you seeing the bruises across his body. If you saw them then he would have to come clean about his nightly activities and he couldn’t put you in danger like that. He wouldn’t put you in danger like that.

At the same time, he also knew there was only so much you could take. If things kept going the way they were, you were going to leave. He knew Alfred was right about that. Bruce was about to reply to him when he noticed his butler staring at something. He followed his gaze and felt himself froze when he saw what, or rather who, had caught Alfred’s attention. It was you. You had found the cave.

Before he had a chance to say anything, you had already taken off back up the stairs. One look at his butler told him everything he needed to know. Alfred had left the cave’s entrance open, on purpose. Bruce took off after you, but thanks to the injuries he had sustained that night he was slower than he would have been. By the time he reached the top of the stairs, he could hear your car already leaving the Manor’s grounds.

He stormed back down into the cave, grabbed his cowl off the desk and headed for the batmobile. He had no idea what he was going to say to you, only that he needed to catch up to you.

Okay so Bruce wasn’t cheating on you. That was a relief. At the same time though, what he was actually doing was somehow so much worse. Being cheated on, you at least knew how to deal with that. Him being Batman? You had no idea what to do with that information. It was times like this you really wished Bruce came with a manual.

You opened the door to your apartment and as you locked it, out of the corner of your eye, you saw something move. Of course he had followed you, why wouldn’t he? But you didn’t want to see him, not right now. You needed to digest what you had seen, to decide what you wanted now that you knew his secret. You went to unlock the door and leave when a gloved hand on your arm stopped you.

You immediately escaped his grasp and backed away from him. He was still in his batsuit and he held his cowl in his other hand. He went to walk toward you, but when you backed away further he stopped. Neither of you knew what to say so you stood there in silence, just staring at each other. Eventually the words came to you.

“Were you ever going to tell me?”

“I wanted to, but how could I put you in danger like that?” You scoffed.

“Danger? Did you ever stop to think that dating Gotham’s wealthiest man has already put me in danger?!” It was the truth. Ever since your relationship had become public, the amount of death threats from jealous women, and men, had been ridiculous. And with the amount of psychos out in the world anyone of them could act on their threats. The silence that came from Bruce told you that he knew you were right.

You two stood there in silence again. As much as you wanted to stay angry at him, you couldn’t. You actually loved the thought that he had been trying to protect you. It was more than anyone else had ever done for you in your life. Sighing, you started to walk over to him. You stopped once you were right before him.

Bruce watched you warily as your fingers gently traced the symbol on his chest. Your fingers slowly moved away from the symbol and to his face. They ghosted over his black eye and moved down to his split lip. He looked like an absolute mess, but he was your mess.

You stepped back from him. There was something you wanted to see.

“I want to see you with your cowl on.” He looked at you for a moment before putting it on. Despite knowing he would never hurt you, you couldn’t help, but feel a little bit of the fear that the criminals he faced must feel. The fear factor aside, you couldn’t deny that he looked rather sexy in that suit. Especially with how it clung to all the right places on him.

You stepped forward. With your hands on his chest, you leaned up and kissed him. He kissed you back fervently, his hands coming up to rest on your waist. After a minute, you broke the kiss and pulled away from his embrace, before headed for your bedroom. When you realised he wasn’t following, you stopped at the doorway and looked back over at him.

“Aren’t you coming, Batman?” you asked in your sultriest voice. After months of him lying to you, you figured he owed you this much.

By the time Bruce… Batman had reached your bedroom, you were already in the process of removing your clothes. Your shoes, coat and top were already on the floor and you were about to start on your jeans when you felt his strong muscular arms wrap around you. He started by kissing your jawline, slowly moving down to your neck. As he kissed you, his hands roamed your body. While one of his hands moved up to your breasts, the other one found its way in between your legs. You gasped and your hips bucked involuntary as he rubbed you through your jeans.

He chuckled darkly before moving his hand away. You whined at the loss, but you didn’t have to complain for long as he spun you around and pushed you onto the bed. You sat up on your elbows as you watched in him stalk over to you, not unlike a predator would do to its prey. He removed your bra and made quick work of your jeans and panties.

After discarding his gauntlets, Batman leaned over you and pinned your hands above your head. He groaned against your neck as his free hand slipped between your legs and he discovered how wet you already were.

“Already so wet for me? How long have you wanted this baby?” Before you had a chance to respond, he was pushing his fingers into you causing you to cry out. As he relentlessly pumped his fingers in and out of you, he left hickeys all over your body.

As you came down from your third orgasm, he let go of your hands and pulled away. Your body felt far too weak for you to sit up and see what he was up to now. Not that you needed to as you could clearly hear the sounds of him removing his suit.

He leant back over you and you discovered he had removed everything, but his mask. You smiled and wrapped your arms around his neck so you could pull him down for a kiss. As you two kissed, he slowly pushed into you and you gasped against his lips. Once he was fully inside, he stilled and began to gently kiss your neck as you adjusted to his size. After all it had been awhile.

“You’re so tight baby.” he groaned against your neck. Once you had adjusted, you wrapped your legs around his hips and moved your own hips, to let him know you were ready.

Batman slowly pulled out of you before slamming straight back into you. Your nails dug into his back and you moaned loudly as he set a hard and fast pace. Each thrust brought you closer and closer to the edge. Your neighbours were going to kill you for being so loud, but you couldn’t care less. It had been so long since he had last fucked you, you’d be damned if you didn’t relish in it.

He moved one of his hands from its position by the side you of your head and brought it between your legs and started to play with your clitoris.

“Batman!” you cried as he pushed you over the edge. Feeling you tighten around him was more than enough to trigger his own orgasm so you came together.

He gently pulled out of you as you came down from your high. You felt him leave the bed, but before you could mourn his lost he was back with a damp cloth to clean you up with. Once he was done cleaning you up, he discarded the cloth and pulled you up to the pillows, where he pulled the duvet over the both of you and brought you in close to his body. You reached up and he lowered his head so you could remove his cowl.

Now that you were no longer distracted you could see the bruises that covered his torso. Clearly seeing the concern in your eyes, Bruce caressed your face and gently tilted your face upward toward him. “I’m fine.” he said before he leant in and kissed your cheek.

“You’re sure?”

“Positive. I’ve got you in my arms haven’t I?” You smiled and gave him another kiss. “I love you so much Y/N.”

You pulled away from him as you both realised what he had just said.

“I’m sorry, you what?” you asked.

“I love you, Y/N. I have done for a while now.” A big smile spread across your face as his words sunk in. He loved you. Bruce Wayne loved you!

“I love you too, Bruce.” Because of course you did. Why wouldn’t you? Despite the earlier lying and pushing you away, he was amazing in every way. After a couple more kisses, you both fell asleep wrapped up in each others’ arms.

[elizabeethan]

The Swan and her Handler

Emma Swan was cursed, and the only way to break it is with True Love's Kiss. Try breaking a curse with True Love's Kiss when you're a damn swan.

Yes, it's true, I've written a CS AU based on Walnut the Crane, a crane who fell in love with her handler. I'm ashamed at how idiotic this is. It’s by far the dumbest thing I've ever written in all my life. It’s nothing more than crack written in about an hour, un-betaed and barely edited. Sorry, and you’re welcome.

Rated T for language

~2000 words

Read my other stuff

Read on Ao3

These damn idiots can’t get anything right. It was bad enough when Emma showed up on their doorstep with perfectly clear care instructions that were completely ignored, but now they keep trying to get her to reproduce as if she’s some kind of zoo animal. 

  Of course, given her current living situation, it does make at least a tiny bit of sense. 

  Ever since the curse, Emma has been stuck in a wildlife refuge and has been unable to get any of her stupid caretakers to figure out how to help her. She knows exactly what she needs, but unfortunately, no one here speaks swan and she can’t exactly hold a pen. Her care instructions were translated upon her transformation, so the one thing that could have helped her now looks like chicken-- er, swan scratch. 

  “She needs a mate,” one of the jack asses points out. “She’ll probably want to mate for life.”

  True, she thinks, although, not with any of the stinky fluff balls you have sent my way.  

  First it was Neal. He tried to mate with her, so she killed him. Last week, they put Walsh in her enclosure, and she pecked at him violently until they took pity on him and sent him to the medical unit. 

  Although today seems different, because her newest caretaker has shown up, and she realizes that he just might be exactly what she’s been looking for. 

Emma Swan, unfortunately very appropriately named, requires a mate who can break her curse, True Loves Kiss the only thing that can bring her back to her truest form as a human adult woman. And when the new dark haired, stunning eyed veterinarian comes strutting into her enclosure, she hurries towards him to get a closer look at his name tag. 

  He jumps away, making some comment about her being fiery , and she blushes, squawking at him as she tries to get closer. Killian , it reads, and if she had lips and not a bill, she would smile. 

  “We think she’s depressed,” the stupid one with the big eyes says. “She’s killed every mate we’ve tried to pair her with.” 

  Good, she thinks. I must have done more damage on Walsh than I initially thought.  

  “You’re just misunderstood, aren’t you, love?” the angel-man asks, making her squawk in agreement. She thinks she could make this quick, this man obviously understanding her horrible twist of fate, so she lunges for him once more, trying hard to kiss his hand and hoping beyond hope that it will transform her back into the woman she's supposed to be. No more feathers, she prays. 

  He exclaims again, jumping and complaining of his hand hurting as she pecks him, so she rolls her eyes and squawks angrily. “Alright, darling,” he says with his hands up, his smooth, accented voice making her heart flutter inside her chest. Her breast? She knows very little about swan anatomy, despite having been turned into one. “Perhaps she’s stressed about her environment. Have you tried giving her a dark, quiet place to nest?” 

  “Not yet,” the dumbass admits. 

  The handsome one, Killian, a name she could get used to rolling off of her tongue, steps away from her, so she hurriedly follows. “Perhaps here in this corner will do.” 

  I would love to spend time in a dark corner with you, she thinks, giving the man what she hopes is a salacious smirk. She watches appreciatively as he sits down, crossing his legs as he starts to fiddle with some sticks as if she would be interested in them. Rather than helping him to make a nest out of the twigs and leaves, she plops herself right in his lap, nestling herself into his crossed legs and gazing up at his beautiful features, earning a smile from him. 

  “There we are, love,” he says happily, clearly surprised that she chose to plant herself upon him, although he shouldn't be. Just look at him, for god’s sake. “Comfortable?” 

  She squawks loudly, making him cringe, then fluffs her feathers in an attempt to gussy herself up for him. If she’s going to earn True Love’s Kiss from this perfect specimen, she’s going to have to work for it. The man chuckles as he looks down at her-- is he gazing? -- and lifts his hand slowly, placing a finger gently upon the top of her head and petting back down her neck, sending a chill down her spine, at least she thinks it’s her spine. She pushes her head towards him again, demanding more attention in an effort to get him to fall for her. It shouldn’t take long; she’s very enchanting. 

  “She’s never been this calm,” the dumb one says, making her snap her head towards him with a glare, shouting at him in disapproval. Killian shushes her soothingly, his finger softly stroking along her stupid feathers once more and making her shut her eyes. 

  “She just needed a bit of attention, it seems.” 

  “We’d best be careful,” someone else says, the bookworm who always thinks she knows everything about swan science. Of course, she probably knows more than Swan Emma. “We wouldn’t want her to imprint on you ,” she seems to joke. 

  “That’s quite alright, isn’t it love?” he asks her, essentially giving her permission to fall in love with this handsome bastard. 

  He comes by a few times a week for the next several months, each time sitting with her in her tiny, dirty nest and not seeming to care that his pants get soiled. She’s always careful to do her business elsewhere, making sure that her prince can sit in comfort when he arrives. She gets angry with him when he brings someone new, a sickly looking male named Graham who she assures is not welcome, so Killian gives up trying to get her to mate with someone. For some reason, they're concerned about her procreating, but she can assure everyone that she will not be giving birth to a damn swan baby while she’s under this curse. 

  One day, when Killian visits near the end of his shift, he’s finally alone, leaving behind the dumb one and the book worm and giving her all of the attention she desires as his strong hand softly pets along her soft feathers. She can’t wait to get rid of these stupid feathers. 

  “You’re quite funny,” he remarks as the sun starts to set. “Unlike any swan I’ve ever met.”

  She squawks at him-- I’m not a damn swan-- and he smiles. “Quire the personality. It always seems like you’re trying to communicate with me.” 

  Yes, you stupid handsome man, that’s exactly right! She tries to nod, lifting and dropping her head in quick succession and making the beauty laugh. She nudges her head against his hand in demand of more pets. 

  “What is it you want me to know, darling?” he asks gently, his voice soft and soothing and deep. 

  She groans, a sound that comes out like a pained cry, and his face shifts. “Are you alright, love?” 

  In pure frustration, Emma drops her head against the man’s chest, likely assaulting him with how badly she smells like bird shit, and he chuckles again, letting his hand run along her feathers some more. “There, there. I know life as a swan must be difficult. All you seem to want is for someone to listen.” 

  She looks up, hoping that her expression conveys her complete and utter irritation at the fact that he’s literally hitting the nail on the head and yet he has no idea. 

  “Such a personality,” he says again. “I’ve got to head home now, love. I’m looking forward to having Chinese for dinner. Perhaps I'll bring you an eggroll tomorrow, or is that insensitive?” 

  She squawks, half because she’s laughing, and half because she would quite literally kill another potential mate for an eggroll. Wanting to beg him not to go, she gives him her best sad face through her inability to emote, and nestles her head against his palm one more time. 

  “I’ll sneak you one, love,” he laughs, and as he does, he finally, finally , leans down towards her, and plants his stupid, dumb, lucious lips upon the top of her stinky bird head. 

  Cramps start to run through her whole stupid bird body, the same ones she felt when she was cursed on Halloween decades ago. He stands, not seeming to notice her pain and discomfort until he’s a few steps away, and he turns back around. “Swan, are you alright?” he asks, as if she could answer, and she shouts back at him wordlessly. 

  She praises whatever gods might be listening as she feels things start to change, her feathers shedding as her skin is exposed to the chilly fall air. The webbing between her toes retracts, her legs turning flesh colored rather than that horrifying orange. Her bill turns back into her nose and mouth, preparing her to smooch her savior rather than peck at him. Finally, she’s back!

  “Bloody fucking hell,” Killian breathes as he stares on, Emma transforming back into her old self, laying in a heap on the ground as she brushes off the dirt and twigs and leaves. 

  “You did it,” she praises before clearing her throat, raw from misuse after all these years. She grins at him as she’s been wanting to since they met, and is met with a horrified, shocked look on his face. His jaw is gaping, his eyes wide as they catch the light of the setting sun. “I knew you would.” 

  “What the fuck?” 

  “You broke the curse,” she says happily, standing up and exposing her nude form to him, cursing the lack of feathers although she vowed she never would. Immediately, he removes his jacket, despite his shock still clearly running through him, and hands it to her. 

  “I did what now?”

  “I was cursed. Why do you think I was such a miserable swan?” 

  He’s looking around, his mouth snapping shut and dropping open in succession as he tries to process the fact that there was a swan in the enclosure just a second ago, and now there’s a frankly beautiful, naked woman standing before him. “You were cursed,” he says doubtfully. 

  “Yes, I was. An evil witch cursed me on Halloween decades ago and I've been stuck in that infernal bird form ever since. All I needed was True Love’s Kiss to break it, but imaging trying to fall in love with someone as a damn bird.” 

  “So you… you fell in love… with me…?” 

  “Obviously,” she smiles, taking a step towards him on shaky legs, tripping and falling into his waiting arms as he catches her, careful not to grope her, although she isn’t sure she would mind. “And you broke the curse, so… Do I have to tell you what that means?”

  “I-- I’m having a lot of trouble processing the fact that I've evidently been in love with a swan for months.” 

  “Well, my name is Emma Swan, so you can be in love with a Swan for the rest of your life, if you’d like.” 

  “Emma,” he murmurs, staring into her eyes and smiling when he seems to recognize her. She’s never been able to see herself in the mirror, because the book worm was worried she would attack it, but based on the way he’s staring, she would guess that the evil witch let her keep her eyes. “Do you know it just happens to be Halloween tonight?”

  “Kismet,” she says softly, gazing up at him. He lifts his hand like he did while she was planted in his lap, and she’s finally able to feel his calloused finger along the skin of her cheek, then of her neck, just as he had done before. 

  “Aye,” he agrees. “The spirit of the holiday does make this whole thing a bit easier to accept.” 

  “Yeah,” she says dismissively. “Now take me home. I was promised an eggroll and I haven't eaten anything but grass and stale bread in almost thirty years.”

~~~~

Tagging (with apologies):

@courtorderedcake @kmomof4 @stahlop @klynn-stormz @laschatzi @emelizabeth88 @lfh1226-linda @kday426 @elisethewritingbeast @timeless-love-story @captain-emmajones @gingerpolyglot @ebcaver @ilovemesomekillianjones @teamhook @superchocovian @itsfabianadocarmo @tiganasummertree @gingerchangeling @jrob64 @onceratheart18 @xhookswenchx @winterbaby89 @swampmedusa @ultraluckycatnd @dancingnancyy @love-with-you-i-have-everything @shireness-says @snowbellewells @hollyethecurious @ouatpost @daxx04 @the-darkdragonfly @donteattheappleshook @therooksshiningknight @eeteeaytay @xsajx @itsfridaysomewhere @alexa-fangirl-forever @jonesfandomfanatic @wefoundloveunderthelight @qualitycoffeethings @rapunzelsghosts @spaceconveyor @badcats-andmice @batana54 @sailtoafarawayland @deckerstarblanche @zaharadessert @xarandomdreamx @pirateprincessofpizza @captainswan21 @hookedmom @lostintheskyfaraway @undercaffinatednightmare @strangestarlighttree

[theshelbyclan]

Swords and Daggers

Summary: When a family meeting is interrupted by your sudden menstrual cramps, your brothers do everything in their power to take care of you

(gif by @nofckingfighting​) A/N: Anon requested: can you do a shelby!sister imagine where she’s gets these awful cramps and in the middle of a family meeting she just bursts into tears because it hurts so bad and omg the boys would be so soft As I’m currently dying of cramps, it made sense to write this. It’s short, but I hope you like it. Words: 1585 *** “This Saturday,” Tommy started, “We’re going legit. John, you and Johnny Dogs are gathering the men at the Charlie’s yard. Arthur, I need you on the tracks, keep the Lee men off. You can take Finn. I will create a distraction and… Y/N, are you okay?” “Fine,” you ground out, not really wanting to attract attention to yourself, “Tell me where I’ll be.” 

“At home,” your brother said shortly. “Like hell I am,” you said, “If we’re going legit, I want in. Why the fuck else am I even here?” “Fuck if I know,” Polly sighed, “being decorative, I suppose.” Tommy shot daggers at his aunt and then turned back to you, “If you ladies have any problems with how I run…” “If we have any problems, we know to shut out mouths and get on with it,” Ada commented from the other side of the round table. “Remember we used to run this entire organisation, Thomas,” Polly scolded, “While you boys were off to France.” “Yes,” Thomas sighed, downing his drink, “I am aware, Pol,” Her look still had some effect on him, much to her satisfaction, “You remember that when you no longer care for our input.” “Fine!” he caved, “Y/N, what role do you want to play?” But you had stopped listening already. In all honesty, you didn’t feel well at all and so Tommy’s words seem to come from very far away. Still, you’d fought years and years to feel like you were a part of the Shelby Company Limited. Women were respected in this family, but never quite on the same level as the men. Sure, it’d been fine for you to take care of business while your brothers were away, and you and Aunt Polly had happily taken on the entire enterprise. With her head for strategy and your head for numbers, sharing the iron Shelby backbone, it’d been quite the dream team. But the boys came back and without many words of thanks, it’d been taken from you as well. There were so many mixed emotions that came with their return from France, but a day didn’t go by that you didn’t curse those men up top who decided to send boys into the mud to die for them. Tommy still stared at you, impatient and a little annoyed, so you said, “I’ll go to Epsom early. I still have the dress. I’ll let Arthur know where the Lee men are and what they’re planning.” Arthur grumbled something inaudibly and when you fixed him with one of your glares, he said, “You want to waltz in there, all dolled up and ready for the taking by any Lee bastard?” “Think I can’t do it, Arthur?” you said coldly. “We know you can do it,” Tommy interrupted, “Doesn’t mean we have to like it.” “I’m not fucking seven, Thomas,” you spat. Another sharp pain went through you and you found yourself physically doubling over in your chair. John immediately turned towards you, “What’s the matter?” “I’m good,” you tried to smile. “Doesn’t look like it…” “Maybe it’s food poisoning,” Arthur ventured. “It’s not.” “What is it then?” Both brothers said in unison. “Just…” you gritted your teeth as another wave of pain came over you, “leave me alone!” “Can’t do that, little sister,” Arthur moved to touch your arm, but you angrily pushed him away.

“She’s not doing good, Tommy,” John’s voice was full of alarm.

Arthur even stood up, “And she’s not fighting any bloody Lee men like that!”

“Calm down,” Aunt Polly said, “Women have been doing it for ages, every month, come hell or high water.”

“That may be so,” Tommy put down his drink, “but this is our sister.”

“I’m fine…” you croaked again, but you weren’t, at all.

“You’re not,” another unhelpful brother said, “you need to be in bed.”

“WILL YOU ALL FUCKING STOP TELLING ME WHAT TO FUCKING DO!” you suddenly burst out, and before you knew it, you had started sobbing.

“Oh no…” John said softly.

“Tom,” Arthur said unsurely, not knowing what to do with himself, “What do we do?”

He quickly took charge and picked you up from your seat. Held bridal style, he walked around the table and you could feel your brothers’ gaze on you, “She needs to be in bed.”

You still protested weakly, “Tommy…”

“Shhh,” he said softly, “We can talk about your plan to seduce the Lees in the morning, eh?”

As he walked with you up the stairs, you suddenly felt yourself lean into him. It felt safe, right there in his arms.

“Water bottles?” you heard one panicky brother shout downstairs.

“Boil the water!” the other replied, “I’ll get the blankets!”

“Ada! Where the bloody hell did you hide that chocolate?!”

You had to smile a little, “You’d think I’m dying…”

“Well, the truth is, sweetheart,” Tommy said in that soft voice he reserved only for you, “We have no idea what you’re going through. We spend half our lives talking to women, flirting with women, being with women…”

“Yeah, alright, I get the point,” you cut him off jokingly.

He pretended like he hadn’t heard you, but a small smile was tugging at his lips, “But we have no idea what it feels like, to lose all that blood…”

“What about France?” you asked.

“That was different, love,” he gently placed you on your bed, “That was a one-time thing and not a monthly struggle. Besides, we weren’t expected to just ignore it and get on with work.”

“I want to work,” you pouted.

Tommy sighed, “Y/N. Listen to me. I know you want to work for the company. I know you. You’re a Shelby and you don’t like being idle. I know. But for tonight, work is done. Get some sleep, eh?”

Suddenly, Arthur came rushing in. It was clear he felt incredibly awkward, but the fact that his arms were filled with hot-water bottles, blankets and chocolate showed he cared, deeply. There were times that you loved your awkward brother more than anyone in the world, and this was one of those moments. You smiled at him full of gratitude and he left quickly after, knowing he’d be back every few hours to check on you. He was the oldest brother after all.

You tried to find a comfortable position for a few moments and the occasional grunt of pain escaped your lips. Tommy looked at you with worry written all over his face, “Don’t know how you fucking do it every month…” he whispered.

“Careful,” you feigned shock, “people might think you’re a feminist.”

He slowly lit a cigarette, “And what if I am, eh?”

You scoffed and reached out, “Give me the cigarette. It helps.”

Another few minutes passed and John stuck his head around the door, “Y/N? Esme tells me it helps when I rub her back. Do you need me to do that?”

“I’ll be fine, John, thanks,” you smiled at him. Where you and Arthur had a bond that required no words, with John it was all words, but they were always good and open and honest. If you needed to talk, you turned to John.

He paused for a second, “What about a doctor, do you need a doctor?”

This made you laugh out loud, “John, sweetheart, this is perfectly normal and it does happen every month. We’d be wasting the doctor’s time!”

“Esme told me to tell you that it’s perfectly normal and there’s nothing wrong with you…”

“I know, John. I’m sixteen: I’ve been doing this for a while now.”

“Right,” he mumbled, “I knew that…”

“John?” you eventually asked and when he looked at you again, you said, “Thank you. I’ll manage.”

“Will you let me know?” John said with a serious look on his face, “If you do need something?”

“How? You’re four houses away. I’m not screaming loud enough for you to hear it, waking up the whole bloody street!”

“Just knock,” he replied, “Sleeping in my old bed tonight, just down the hall,” and before you could protest, he was gone and called from the hall, “Goodnight, babe!”

Tommy still sat in the corner, smoking quietly. You weren’t quite sure why he was there, but his presence was comforting. With Arthur it was protection, with John it was words, but with Tommy it was just his presence. When you two locked eyes, he gave you a warm smile, and it was just like you were six again. Before that god-awful war, he’d always been there. Tommy was the brother who couldn’t be dragged away from his little sister, always trying to get you to ride his pony. He followed you wherever you went and he gave you everything you ever wanted. But after the war, his head was filled with smoke, mud and ambition. But this, this felt like before, and it was good. Maybe it was even worth the swords and daggers attacking your uterus at the moment.

You started feeling yourself drifting off to sleep, with the warm bottle pressed against your abdomen. But before you slept, you mumbled, “I love you, Tommy…”

“Is this another hormonal thing?” a deep voice said in reply, with some sarcasm echoing through.

“Probably,” you smirked, “I’ll hate you again tomorrow, alright?”

“Good. You can take out that anger on the Lees, eh?”

“I will,” you heard your own voice was getting muffled. Still, you felt a small triumph of being allowed to go in the morning.

“Sleep, Y/N,” he almost sung, from a great distance it seemed, “And I love you too.”

***

Masterlist

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

Hallucination

Prompts: i love your fics insanity and real or not real!! can i request another fic where a side is struggling to tell what's real and what's a hallucination? can be in the same like universe (carrying on with one of the stories) or a completely different universe/person, idm - anon

 *crashes into ur asks*

Hey if you’re still taking requests could you do just Janus comforting someone on the verge of a meltdown? Like lots of soft words and caring Janus? He’s my comfort character and I love him - anon

Thanks for the prompt!

Read on Ao3 Part 1 (ish) 

Warnings: talk of hallucinations, uncertainty

Pairings: focus on creativitwins, intrulogical, dukeceit, background LAMP, DLAMP, DLAMPR, can be platonic or romantic, you decide

Word Count: 3864

Sometimes Thomas watches things and it isn’t Remus’s fault.

Sometimes Thomas decides to watch something late at night, when it’s dark outside, even though Virgil tells him it’s a bad idea, and it isn’t Remus’s fault.

 Sometimes when Virgil has gone to his room and he’s fine, but Thomas’s mind can’t stop playing it over and over and over and over, he starts to expand on it and it isn’t Remus’s fault.

 He can’t remember the name of the video. Something to do with being stuck on a misty island in the middle of nowhere with a monster and villagers that wait to sacrifice tourists to the monster to sate its hunger. Something about a daring rescue or an escape plan doomed to fail.

 Something like…

 “Do not go outside. Do not turn on the lights. Don’t make sounds.” The old man draws the curtains sharply across the window. “And whatever you do, do not look out the window.”

 It’s late now. Patton’s asleep. Virgil’s in his room, probably asleep. The rest of them are still awake in the Imagination. It’s slumber party night for the twins, having created a big sprawling mansion in the Imagination for them to run around in. Logan is here, Janus is here, Roman is here.

 Villagers?

 They’re talking about what Thomas watched.

 Logan straightens his legs out. “It’s not a bad practice, staying quiet.”

 Janus rolls his eyes. “Come on, what is this, some haunted island?”

 “You saw the people in the video.” Logan rests his weight on his elbows. “Something was amiss.”

 “The only thing amiss was how awfully boring you lot are being.” Janus sighs and stands, stretching. “Well, I think a night of entertainment sounds wonderful.”

 “The old man said to be quiet,” Roman points out. Wait, is the old man real?

 “Do you know how prone to flights of fancy old people are?” Janus smiles. “Incredibly.”

 “Hmm.”

 “Oh don’t start that.” Janus rolls his eyes and his gaze lands on Remus. A smirk crawls across his face. “Well,” he drawls, sauntering across the room, “someone’s being awfully quiet.”

 Remus just shrugs. Janus crouches down.

 “What do you think about this monster,” he asks, tapping his fingers on his chin, “about the thing that sneaks around this island, peering into windows, through the keyholes of locked doors?”

 “Janus,” Logan warns.

 “What? I just want to hear what our other little scientist thinks about this.” He raises his eyebrows when Remus won’t hold his gaze. “No? Nothing? Need more data? Well, I’m sure you could ask around if you wanted to.”

 “We’re not supposed to leave,” he says softly.

 “I know you’re a goody-two-shoes, Remus, but you’ll never get anything done that way.”

 “Leave him alone, Janus,” Roman says with a wink, “he’s just mad at how pathetic the monster design was.”

 Long limbs. Dark eyes. Moved like shadow.

 “And the Boy Scout, coming to the rescue.” Janus rolls his eyes as he stands. “Aren’t you tired of being so boring?”

 Roman holds his hands up. “Hey, I’m all for exploring!”

 Janus sighs. “Ever the dashing prince, are we?”

 “Ask nicely and I may sweep you off your feet too.”

 The banter continues. Logan just sighs and pulls out a journal, the pen emerging from god-knows-where as he writes. Remus swallows and glances toward the window.

 In. Out. In. Out.

 Roman and Janus are still tossing barbs and jests back and forth. Remus cannot help but notice how loud they are being.

 The old man said to be quiet.

 Logan looks up when he begins to crouch down and shuffle behind the bed.

 “What are you doing?”

 “Changing.” He gives a half-hearted smile. “Texture spoons ran out.”

 He nods and goes back to his writing. Remus glances at the nightstand. Only 8:00. The conversation gets progressively louder. Logan joins in eventually, rolling his eyes at Roman’s increasingly elaborate proposals to bring in jukeboxes, disco lights, and speakers.

 “Let’s think about this logically. If the ghosts or whatever the hell the monster is sensitive to sound, why not pump everything to like, 300 decibels and blast their eardrums out?”

 “Or it could be that they just hear things like we hear things,” Logan remarks.

 “Mm.”

 “Why do I have to be quiet?” Roman spreads his arms. “I should not have to deal with that!”

 “Actually, you know what,” Janus says gleefully, “I agree. We shouldn’t have to be quiet. If this place doesn’t have adequate monster protection, that’s on them.”

 This place…didn’t they make it safe? Roman said they made it safe. Is it not safe anymore? Are the shadows—is the monster here?

 “Always the entitlement,” Logan sighs, seemingly resigning himself to the voice of reason as he settles his journal to the side, “assuming that everyone should cater to your needs.”

 “Oh come on, Logan. You have to admit that having a hotel that isn’t secure makes little to no sense.”

 Hotel? Isn’t this still the mansion?

 The low buzz of an LED sign comes from outside. Remus blinks. Has…has that always been there?

 “Not respecting the rules of wherever you choose to go makes little to no sense.”

 “That’s gotta hold up in court though.” Roman glances at Janus. “You get me?”

 “Yes, Your Honor,” Janus says, drawing himself up like a lawyer, “I would like to sue on the grounds that my intestines were devoured horrifically by a terrifying, savage beast that the hotel owners neglected to inform me of. How am I standing here, you ask, if my intestines have been devoured? Simple. Spite.”

 Roman’s off, cackling to his heart’s content. Logan bites back his own smile.

 “And how, may I ask, is this not the fault of yourself?”

 “May I say, Your Honor, that victim-blaming is not cute—“

 “Here here,” comes Roman’s voice.

 “—and also, the information about aforementioned monster came from someone who was not an employee of the hotel,” Janus finishes grandly, “therefore they can suck my—“

 Logan hits his hand against the nightstand, still fighting down laughter. “Defendant is charged with contempt of court.”

 “Do not pass go,” Roman chortles as Janus swoons dramatically, “do not collect 200 dollars.”

 “Remus,” Janus cries out, “avenge me!”

 Remus does not respond. He is too busy trying to figure out when the mansion became the hotel.

 “Remus,” Janus cries again, crawling dramatically across the floor, “save me from this indignity.”

 “No, thank you,” he mumbles instead.

 Janus huffs, pushing himself off the floor. “Then by all means, please tell us your ingenious solution to this monster problem that we find ourselves in.”

 Remus looks up, his face carefully blank except for a small smile. “I’m going to hide underneath the sheets,” he says in a soft, small voice, “because everybody knows monsters can’t get you when you’re under your sheets.”

 “That is adorable,” Roman chuckles.

 Janus’s eyebrows raise slowly until another fiendish smirk crawls across his face. “Are you scared?”

 “Yes.”

 “Aww,” he coos, “hiding under the sheets to get away from the monsters, how adorable.”

 Remus doesn’t respond.

 “If only the others could see you now,” Janus crows, “they’d know how intimidating you really are.”

 Logan takes his glasses off, polishing them with the handkerchief from his pocket. “As if you’re any better, crying over a torn seam in your cape.”

 “That bastard took two weeks to get right!”

 Remus ignores them once more, glancing at the clock. 9:45. An acceptable time to try and go to sleep. He moves slowly and quietly as he tries to get into the bed. The monster could be here. The banter continues behind him as he pulls the sheets tight around him.

 He does not see Logan glance over. He does not see that Logan frowns and glances at the clock, thinking perhaps Remus is more tired than he appeared, but…still. He does not see Logan look back at the others still talking, they’re probably not going to go to sleep for a long while.

 He does not see Logan look over at him as Janus leaves the room, claiming he’s going to go find somewhere more fun to sleep. He does not see Logan frown, looking to see Remus still on his side, huddled under the sheets. He does not see when Logan starts to count.

 One, two, three, four.

 One, two, three, four, five, six, seven.

 One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight.

 He does not see Logan beckon Roman closer.

 He does not see Roman frown as he comes closer, sighing at the notebook in Logan’s hands.

 “Logan, why the hell can’t you take a break for…” he trails off when he sees Logan’s face. “What?”

 “Perhaps I like to keep myself occupied,” Logan says smoothly, even as he nods insistently to the notebook, “even in times where the circumstances might be less than ideal.”

 Roman raises an eyebrow. Subtle, Logan.

 “You are chronically incapable of taking a break, aren’t you?”

 “Perhaps.”

 “Do you know any words other than ‘perhaps?’”

 “Perhaps.”

 Roman hides a smirk as squints at the text.

 I think Remus is actually afraid. Don’t tease. - L

 Remus does hear Roman exhale sharply. He does not see him glance up at the bed before he looks back at Logan and nods.

 “Well,” he sighs, stretching and yawning exaggeratedly, “on that note, it’s probably a good idea to try and sleep.”

 Logan snorts. “And here I thought you were supposed to be an actor.”

 He swats at him halfheartedly as he starts getting ready to go to sleep. What that means is just a matter of snapping his fingers to change out of the prince costume. He packs his other clothes away and crosses the room, keeping his footsteps loud but not too loud.

 Now that he’s paying attention, he can see how scared poor Remus is. He’s frozen under the sheets, barely moving. As Logan starts talking quietly to himself, he sets his bag down next to Remus’s and sighs, moving around to make a bit more noise.

 Remus still doesn’t move.

 When he’s made all the noise he can reasonably make, he walks a little closer to the bed and reaches to fix the curtains, unable to stop the soft noise when his shadow falls over the bed.

 “Hey, Re,” he whispers, leaning down and brushing the sheet a little further from his face, “it’s just me, it’s just Roman. Can you open your eyes for me?”

 It takes him a moment but his eyes do open. He smiles down at him and cups his face for a moment.

 “Hey, there, Re,” he murmurs, “can I come join you?”

 He barely nods.

 “Thank you.” He frowns when he doesn’t move over. “You gonna let me in?”

 He can tell by the way his eyes glass over that’s not a good idea unless he can convince him otherwise.

 “Come on,” he whispers again, “scoot to the other side for me.” He nudges his shoulder gently. “Logan misses you.”

 Loren doesn’t let his mumuring falter but he does reach across the small space between their beds to lightly pat the side closest to him.

 Remus moves, as skittish as the new dragon pups, clutching the blanket tightly to his chest, his pillow gripped in his other hand. Roman swiftly takes the warm spot he’s vacated, wincing in sympathy as he shivers on the cold sheets.

 “Thank you,” he sighs, making a show of getting comfortable before reaching out for him, smacking his lips together in sleep, “now come here.”

 At his quickly stifled questioning noise, he drops the act and opens his arm wide.

 “It’s okay, Re,” he whispers, far too quiet for Logan to hear, “I’m not gonna hurt you, it’s okay.”

 He stares at him a moment longer before he realizes that shit, he’s not going to be able to move on his own right now.

 “Can I come get you, Re?” Roman smiles when he gives him another one of those jerky nods. “Thank you, I’m gonna pull you over to me, okay?”

 He takes him into his arms slowly and carefully, wrapping him up in the sheets until just the very tops of their heads poke out. He relaxes just enough so that he can maneuver him to where he likes, but he’s far from the sleepy pile he expected.

 “Hey,” he whispers, tucking his hair behind his ear, “you want to stay here with me, Re?”

 He blinks sluggishly. Roman bites back a curse and leans down to rub his nose against his.

 “Hey, hey, Re, you just focus on me, okay? Stay with me here—“ he tightens his grip— “right here…I’ve got you.”

 He frowns when he makes a small little noise that sounds like it could be his name.

 “Yeah, Re? You calling for me?”

 He opens his mouth but no sound comes out. He kisses Remus’s forehead.

 “Nonverbal,” he whispers, “or just scared? Or both?”

 A moment passes.

 “Both it is then.” Roman tucks his head under his chin. “Why don’t you go ahead and close your eyes, Re, I’m right here.”

 They stay there, wrapped in the blankets, Remus warm and snug up against Roman’s chest. He plays with his hair, one of his legs slung over his to hold him close, working to lull him out of his frozen state. After a while, Logan stands from the other side of the room and pats Roman’s shoulder.

 “Your turn, Roman.”

 Roman rolls over. “Huh?”

 Logan nods his head toward the bathroom. “Shower.”

 Roman sighs dramatically and presses another kiss to Remus’s forehead, leaving his brother dazed, blinking up at Logan. Logan watches Roman leave before he turns his gaze downwards. Remus tries to pretend the shiver that goes through him at the way Logan softens his gaze is just the cold.

 “Remus,” he calls softly, voice barely louder than a whisper, “Remus, may I join you?”

 A pause.

 “Tap the bed twice if yes, once if no.”

 A pause, then Remus hesitantly reaches out to make two little taps.

 “Thank you.”

 He slides smoothly into the bed, reaching out to carefully slip an arm under his and pull him off of the sweat-soaked sheets—when did that happen?—and into his arms. Remus moves pliantly, tucking his chin into the space left between his chin and the pillow.

 “Hey,” he whispers, gentling his voice as he tucks his head closer to Remus’s, “hey.”

 Logan is warm. Is Logan—Logan said it made sense to be quiet. Logan knows. Logan understands. Logan always understands.

 “What’s the matter,” Logan calls gently, “can I help?”

 Remus swallows. “Monster.”

 “Are you afraid of the monster, Remus?”

 Remus nods. “Black eyes. Shadow. Kill you and Roman and Janus and then go find Patton and Virgil and Thomas. Bad.”

 “The monster isn’t real, Remus,” Logan says softly, running his hand through his hair, “it doesn’t exist.”

 Remus shakes his head. “We’re in the hotel on the island. It’s real. Roman left and the monster will kill him.”

 “Roman is just in the bathroom,” Logan corrects, moving his head to indicate the running water sound, “he’s alright. We’re not in a hotel, we’re in the mansion you two created.”

 “But the LED sign is buzzing outside.”

 “Would you like to look and see?”

 “No!” Remus wraps his arms tightly around Logan’s waist. “We’re not supposed to look out the window, the old man said not to.”

 “The old man isn’t here,” Logan says patiently, “I’m here. I have you. I’ll keep you safe.”

 “He said—he—he’s not real?”

 “No, Remus, he’s not real.” Logan gives him a gentle squeeze. “This is real. This is real, Remus, I’ve got you.”

 “You’re real.”

 “I am.”

 “You said it’s safe to look out the window?”

 “It is.” Logan squeezes again. “Would you like me to show you?”

 Remus nods. Logan leans up and pulls back the curtain, peeking outside. There’s no bright red light from the hotel LED sign. Just soft moonlight.

 “There’s no sign, Remus,” he murmurs, “you’re not in a hotel.”

 Oh.

 “The scar,” he blurts, his hand flying to his chest, “from the stab, what if it’s already got us?”

 “I don’t have a scar,” Logan says, lying back down and taking Remus’s hand, “here…feel.”

 Logan presses his palm to his bare chest, pulling his shirt out of the way so Remus can see. There’s no scar.

 “You don’t have one either…may I?”

 When he presses his palms against Remus’s chest, there’s no scar.

 “We’re…not there?”

 “No, Remus, we’re not there,” Logan says gently, “we’re here, in the mansion, safe, there’s no monster.”

 The water stops. A moment later and Roman emerges, tossing a towel over his shoulder. He sees the two of them in the bed and pouts.

 “You stole my spot!”

 “I had Remus to comfort,” Logan says smoothly, waving him over, “though you are welcome to help.”

 Roman ruffles Remus’s hair. Remus leans into it.

 “Ro, are you real?”

 “Yes, of course, I’m real, Re, what…” Roman trails off and his eyes go wide. “Oh, Re, did we—did I push you into hallucination territory? I’m so sorry, yes, we’re real, we’re here, we’re in our mansion, we’re safe, Re.”

 “Safe?”

 “Yeah, Re,” Roman murmurs, getting in to cuddle his brother properly, “we’re safe.”

 “Real?”

 “This is real.”

 Remus buries his nose in his brother’s real neck and holds him close. Logan stays by his side, stroking his hair and murmuring that Remus is here, they’re real, they’re safe.

 After a moment, Remus takes a deep breath and pulls apart.

 “You know the rules, Ro-Bro.”

 Roman grimaces, his head dropping to rest against Remus’s sternum for a moment before he nods. Logan looks back and forth between the two of them.

 “What are the rules?”

 “When Remus gets pushed into hallucination territory,” Roman says softly, “he sleeps alone.”

 Logan frowns. “But surely it would help to have us reassure you and help ground you?”

 “Wouldn’t help for the intrusive thoughts and hallucinations to include you too.”

 Logan winces. “I suppose not, but—“

 “Lolo we’ve tried,” Remus mumbles, “we—this works. It sucks and I hate it and so does Ro but this is what works.”

 “I trust you,” Logan says, squeezing Remus’s hand, “and I trust you to know what works for you.”

 “We’re just overprotective.”

 “I’ll say.”

 Roman gives him one last hug before standing and pulling Logan to his feet. “You know we’ll come as soon as you call.”

 Remus nods. “I know.”

 The room feels empty when they leave.

 The night passes.

 During the witching hour, he startles awake.

 The sheets are soaked in sweat directly under him. His eyes are wide. His breathing is too controlled.

 The monster is not here but the shadows are.

 Somewhere in this house, he knows, something is here. He can hear the voice in the movement of the curtains, hear the step in the way the floorboard settles. Hands never meet his tender flesh, a mouth never bites his fragile throat, but something is here.

 Step. Step. Step.

 The fear clouds his eyes as it drips into his ears. The light flickers. Something brushes a knuckle up and over his cheek. Something pauses outside his doorway.

 Through the depths of the fear filling his ears, something knocks.

 The chill rips its fingers out of his mouth and smears them over his throat. Something knocks again. There’s something outside. There’s something outside.

 “Sweetie,” he calls as he opens the door, “Sweetie?”

 Janus steps inside.

 “You’re awake,” he says, shutting the door and sitting on the edge of the bed, “it’s quite late.”

 “I know,” Remus says as he sits up, wary, “sorry.”

 Janus hums, reaching out to idly brush his hair off his forehead. The chill curls and lingers around his fingers, the shadows diving to hide in the lea of him, greedily drinking the fear from Remus. Janus goes to pull his hand away only to notice the prickles on Remus’s skin.

 “Are you cold, my dear?” He frowns and lightly dusts his forearm with his fingertips. “You look it.”

 Remus shakes his head. Janus raises an eyebrow, pressing his thumb hard against his arm to reveal a white imprint. It takes long seconds for the chill to let blood color the flesh again.

 “Let’s not lie,” he murmurs, his gaze flicking back up to catch Remus’s, “shall we, sweetie?”

 Janus reaches up to trace the air around the curve of his cheek, one finger lightly tracing his jaw. The electrifying tingle clenches his hands in the sheet. He tilts his head and hums softly.

 “What’s keeping you awake, sweetie?”

 The chill snarls, refusing to let go of his throat.

 “You can speak,” he encourages, lightly knuckling the underside of his chin, “it’s alright.”

 “I’m sorry.” He shakes his head a little.

 “None of that, now, you’ve done nothing wrong.” He closes his hand around his. “To be afraid is nothing to be ashamed of, sweetie, you know that.”

 The shadows move slowly, wary of him, eager to taste his fear. The chill huddles around it, icing it in place, refusing to let him breathe without reaching its fingers into the pit of his throat.

 “Oh, my dear,” Janus murmurs, running his fingers along the side of Remus’s neck, “can I do anything for you?”

 He shakes his head quickly. Too quickly.

 “Sweetie…”

 “You’ll be annoyed.”

 “I’m concerned,” Janus corrects gently, “that’s all.”

 Remus risks a glance at the shadows.

 “And you know, Remus,” he continues, lifting his hand to press a chaste kiss to its back, “taking care of you is never annoying.”

 A different type of fear tingles along his fingers as they brush the curve of his jaw. This one reaches deep, deep along his fingers, up his arm, down to the curve of his shoulder, wriggling in between the cold knots to pulse against him. The shadows bloom in the corners of the room, shying away from the light flickering over his face, his shirt, his hand.

 Through the mouthful of fear, his tongue wets his lips. “You’ll find it stupid.”

 “Never, sweetie.”

 “The dark,” blurts shamefully from his mouth, “I’m afraid of the dark.”

 “The dark, sweetie? Is this about…”

 “I got pushed into hallucination territory earlier.”

 Janus makes a noise of sympathy, murmuring an apology for teasing earlier.

 “I can’t see anything but the shadows,” Remus whispers, squeezing his eyes shut, “and the noises, and how empty it is because I know it’s not empty.”

 “And what helps this go away,” he asks, still cupping his hand, “what makes the shadows leave my sweetie alone?”

 “S-stay? Please, with—with me?” Remus’s breath starts to catch again. “Don’t—don’t let them hurt me.”

 “Oh, sweetie, of course,” Janus murmurs, “of course I’ll stay.”

 The poor thing chokes out a sob. Janus reaches forward to lie him back down when his hand brushes the edge of the sheet. He frowns. Picking the sheet up between two fingers, he winces. He can feel his fingertips rubbing together, it’s barely warm enough.

 Remus’s breath still hasn’t caught when he returns with a thick quilt, spreading it over him to banish the last of the chill.

 “Hush now,” he soothes, smoothing the corners of the quilt, “hush, sweetie, it’s over, you did so well, shh…”

 Janus climbs into bed, pulling the shaking Remus to his chest, his arms wrapping tightly, tightly around the poor thing as he cradles Remus protectively.

 “Come here, my sweet,” he whispers, “come here, now, shh, shh, you’re alright now, sweetie, shh, shh…”

 His cries soften, gentled into mewls against his chest as he warms him against his skin. The poor thing is still clenched tighter than a fist. He croons, taking his wrist in his hand and pulling him flush against him.

 “It’s alright, sweetie, you did so well, it’s gone now, you did it, there you are, here you are, right here, sweetie.”

 The poor thing whines.

 “Oh, sweet one, shh, shh, shh, my dear, you’re alright…” He makes a noise of sympathy when he doesn’t stop. “What’s the matter, sweetie, tell me, say it, come now…”

 He brings his hand up to stroke gently under Remus’s chin.

 “Say it, sweetie, tell me what’s troubling you so, let me help, I’m right here, I’m right here.”

 “The shadows,” he whimpers, “the shadows, I can—I can hear them, they—they’re everywhere—I—they’re looking at me, they’re touching me, I can—I can feel them—I—“

 “I’ve got you, sweetie,” Janus murmurs, pressing a kiss to Remus’s cheek, “I’m right here, nothing can touch you, here—“

 He pulls the blankets up and over their heads, creating a little bubble of intimacy in the dark room.

 “I’m here, sweetie, it’s just me, I won’t hurt you, you know I won’t. Shh, shh, hush now, sweetie, it’s alright.”

 They stay like that for a little longer, Remus sobbing out the rest of the fear as Janus hushes him softly, pulls him close, soothes away the last of the tremors with gentle hands and tender words.

 After a while, Remus pulls away.

 “…thanks, Jan.”

 “I promised,” Janus murmurs, “I promised that I’d do it when you need me to.”

 “I know.” Remus sniffles. “I just…wish you didn’t have to.”

 “Don’t ever feel bad about needing something,” Janus chides softly, chucking him lightly under the chin, “especially not when you really need it.”

 “Already sent Lolo and Ro away for hallucinations, you—“

 “They’re fine, sweetie, a little worried, but they came and told me what was happening.” Janus kisses his forehead again. “They’re not angry, they don’t begrudge you needing things, and they’ll be here for you. They always are.”

 “I know.”

 Exhaustion begins to seep into his eyes. He blinks sluggishly.

 “This is real, right?”

 Janus gives him a squeeze. “It’s real.”

 “Can I sleep now?”

 “Oh, of course, sweetie,” he murmurs, leaning back up to rest his head on the pillow next to Remus, “you go right ahead. I’ll be right here. I’ll keep the shadows away.”

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[delirioushrimp]

Salvation is found in pain(ful pleasures) [Your Boyfriend AU]

Once more, I truly have no self control when it comes to @harbingers-appointed and his boys. Be happy Flauros, you finally get to steal the show from the King.

Hope you’ll like it Vee !

How many ? How many times did he kill you since the beginning of this twisted game ? How many times did you come back to him asking, craving, and begging for the punishment he was always so eager to bestow you ?

He cut your throat, watched you drown, let you bleed out, broke every bone in your body so many times you wonder how he hasn’t grown tired out of you yet. After all, no matter how satisfying and amusing it must be to kill a person -one yearning for death so ardently- over and over again, one has to get bored of seeing the same face dying by their hands, right ? You’re just a toy to him, an interesting one -maybe-, but a toy, nonetheless.

You’re not stupid enough to believe he genuinely likes you.

Still, you always come back to him, knowing he’s the only one able to give you what you want, what you deserve. You hate it when he does it in the front of the King though, because watching the pain and self-hatred in those gorgeous blue eyes as your life fades away to hysterical cackles, truly breaks your soul. He doesn’t deserve this, doesn’t deserve to suffer so horribly when all he’s done is love you earnestly and wholeheartedly, and most of all he doesn’t deserve loving someone as broken and ruined like you. You curse God for doing this to him, knowing you’ll never be able to return his feelings because you’re not worthy of his love. You’re not worthy of anything but pain.

It’s not fair, it’s not fair !

Lately though, you’re starting to notice a few changes in him. His knife lingers longer than it should, leaving shallow cuts on your skin before piercing you to the bone. His eyes which were usually narrowed in sadistic glee appear distracted, deep in thought as he observes your dying body. It’s strange, you’d never thought you’d get to see him so pensive; he always appears so confident, happy go lucky and in control of everything.

At first, you think it’s because he’s finally growing annoyed of your presence and constant pestering for pain. Maybe he found another, newer and more amusing toy to distract himself with. You would understand if that was the case, it was a wonder he actually “played” with you for that long. But that means you needed to find someone or something able to give you what you sought.

The next time you wake up after another of your “play sessions”, you don’t go to him. Instead, you ignore everyone and everything as you try to come up with a new alternative to your lack of executioner. You manage to evade Samael without much trouble, knowing the castle like the back of your hand after how many times you died there. You’re terrified of gazing into his eyes, terrified to see the absolute grief and agony in them.

You roam around the halls for a while before you manage to find a good enough hiding spot, a small balcony, away from prying eyes. You sit there for who knows how long, time perception long lost ever since the start of this never-ending game. What would happen now ? With nobody else willing to waste their time on you, what are you supposed to do ? Kill yourself over and over again until God decided to take pity on you and finally send your soul to where it belongs ? You remember the bastard’s words after the eighteenth time he cut you open, looking at you with that all-knowing smile.

“His Highness is the only who can end your misery. You could always ask him but- ah” he tilts his head to watch your life spilling away into a red river. “I doubt he’ll agree to it,” he ends with a dark chuckle. “But hey, no harm in trying, right ?”

He’d wanted you to do it, only because he knew of how much pain and agony your words would induce to the King. You had doubted his words, -you always did- fully aware that if he had lied to you, you’d have made Samael suffer for nothing. And you couldn’t, wouldn’t be able to bear the thought.

So you hesitated, waited for a miracle to happen, for the sadist to admit he was fucking with you, anything so you wouldn’t have to take the risk, like the coward that you are. And of course, he noticed, relishing in your growing  paranoia and dread. God ignored your pleas once more, and you began to understand why Samael rebelled. You’ve never been a fervent believer after all.

God is not a benevolent being , merely the leading puppeteer of this world.

You gave in after seven more deaths, despair finally overtaking over fear, and went to find the King. It felt disgusting, seeing him smiling so earnestly at your mere presence when you only came to use him for your own, selfish and self-destructive wish. You felt it to your core, invading your soul, leaving a bitter taste in your mouth. You wish he hadn’t knelt before you with such devotion, you wish he hadn’t kissed each of your trembling fingers so tenderly, you wish he hadn’t whispered your name so fervently. The words that left your mouth on that day felt like the vilest of poisons.

“You…would do anything for me, right ?”

“Anything !” you flinched at the desperate, borderline hysterical tone of his voice. “Tell me what you want, and I’ll give it to you !”

You wondered briefly if watching you die so many times is what caused him to say those words, clinging to your body so pitifully, or if his adoration truly ran that deep from the start. You wished to never have an answer because whatever of the two it’d be, it would only make you more guilty.

“So…” your lips were dry. You felt your sins crawling on your back. “Kill me. Kill me please.”

The  gut-wrenching look of pure horror which crossed his face told you two things; it told you your executioner had not lied to you, and it told you that no matter what you did, Samael would never be able to grant you your only wish. You knew that no matter how much you tried to hurt, destroy or even hate him- something you never believed to be possible- he could never bring himself to end your suffering. And you could not blame or despise him for that, he had waited so long for you and the only thing you gave him was pain and torment.

You deserve this, you deserve this punishment.

“Are you done moping around  ?” you hear that familiar, bone-chilling voice calls for you.

You don’t even turn around to face him but knows what awaits you if you refuse to answer his question, as rhetorical as it may seem.

“I’m not mopping around,” you flatly say. “Just here to think.”

You hear him take a step closer, but don’t flinch or try to move away while he stands right behind you, and you wonder how long it’s been since you got used to this.

“Really ?” he asks a bit more cheerfully. “So, you’re not avoiding me ?”

You frown and remain silent for longer than you should as you try to find the meaning behind his words. He doesn’t seem to mind though as if he was waiting for your half-baked excuse.

“Avoid you ?” you retort back in a slightly sarcastic tone. “What are you even saying ? I know you’ll always be able to find me.”

He hums in agreement, taking no offense of the fact you still refuse to look at him, instead you think he is pleased by your admission.

“You don’t seem very happy to see me though.” He almost sounds hurt at the idea and maybe you would have bought it if it was one of your first interactions. “Did I do something to upset you sweetheart ?” The innocence in his voice is sickening.

You never bought the cute pet names or the honeyed words of concern though. You recall how you cringed the first time he used them on you, which was strange. You had never met him, and yet somehow, you’d been able to tell this behavior was not natural to him. He was attractive -at least to your standards- , his voice was rich and smooth, and his gaze had been solely focused on you; you should have enjoyed the attention from such a charming being, or at least, feel mildly flattered. But instead, your mind and body recognized the eager executioner that he was. Maybe it was because you refused to believe someone could have a genuine interest in you, or maybe it was because you’d unconsciously compared him to the King. Whatever it was, you never fell for it, and you never will.

“No,” you answer in a detached tone of voice. “I’m just staying out of your way.”

You’re not sure if he is confused, amused or irritated by your words but it feels like you’re suffocating. You’re used to the mockeries, twisted chuckles and fake flatteries but this silence, it’s not normal.

When were things ever normal here ?

You can’t help the gasp leaving your lips when you feel a hand grabing you by the hips and a cold breath tickling your neck. You easily guess the smile against your skin, and it takes everything in your power to repress yourself from kicking him in the ribs. You’re not afraid of the pain that might follow after that, but the other types of punishments he must have in mind.

“You think I don’t want to play with you anymore ?” His voice drops by a few octaves, sending vibrations across your skin. You still manage a small nod, voice stuck in your throat. “Aw…how sad. I must have done a terrible job lately, haven’t I ?”

“It’s just-“ You don’t like how your voice waver at his freezing touch. “You seem distracted and well…bored.” You hear him whisper a small oh ? against your flesh. “I thought you got tired of killing me.”

You realize how fucked up this sounds, and a sense of relief washes over you because it means you still haven’t completely lost it. But the moment is short lived when you feel him chuckle darkly, sending goosebumps along your skins. You really, really don’t like this.

“How awfully observant of you dear.” You feel his teeth graze the juncture of your neck, but you don’t move an inch, instead wondering if he intends to cut your jugular with his sharp incises. He’s never done that before, at least from what you can remember. “But don’t worry, I’m not bored of our little game…yet.”

You believe him for once, it would be rather strange for him to come here if he didn’t want to spend time with you anymore. But his voice, the way he stands so uncomfortably close, tell you he wants to change the rules and you’re almost sure he’s happy you noticed the changes. In fact, all of this might have been part of his plan, for you to notice the little hints he dropped during your last sessions and break from the usual pattern the both of you had created since the first day.

He’s always five steps ahead of everyone after all.

You let out a frustrated sigh, knowing that no matter how this conversation will end, you won’t like what will come out of it. But it’s too late to turn back now, not when he’s literally clinging to you like some damn leech.

“What do you want ?” you curtly demand.

“Ah, don’t be like that sweetheart,” he whines to you, but you can feel his smile growing wider. “I just want you to enjoy this as much as I do.”

What the fuck is he saying now ? Maybe you should just kick him after all, then jump and, if you’re lucky enough, break your neck against the cold pavement below, if not you’ll just break every bone in your body and wait until you respawn like some videogame character. It’s nothing you haven’t experienced before, though the demon freak is more into using his knife -you think it’s always the same- than his own hands on you.

“We both know you’re not getting out if this cycle, not for a very long while at least…” he trails off, as if you had somehow forgotten why you were here in the first place, as if you weren’t living with the constant reminder that you couldn’t die. Is he trying to make you cry or something ? “And well…I know you’re not getting off of the pain, you’re not that kind of freak.”

“Just get on with it, the floor below us is starting to become more interesting than you,” you grit between your teeth as you take a step towards the edge for emphasis. He lazily takes another step as well, completely unbothered by the situation. He must know you’re not joking.

“Don’t interrupt me, that’s very rude,” he scolds you, like a parent trying to reason with their unruly child -the idea both amuses and creeps you out- but you don’t miss the cold authority behind it. The warning is clear. “Like I said, you’re not getting anything out of this and I’m starting to feel like the bad guy here.”

You take another step forward and grip the stone railing as tightly as you can as a sign for him to hurry but also to keep yourself from sending your fist in his face or his stomach. Can’t he just break your neck or bleed you dry ? Starting to feel like the bad guy ? Well, he’d fit the role if this was a classic fairytale, although as sweet and devoted Samael was to you, he would not make for a very good prince charming -or a very twisted one- while you’re all too aware of how terrible of a damsel in distress you’d be. One could almost say the purple freak is the only one playing his part right.

“Don’t you think you deserve some award for going this far ?”

Your eyes narrow. Why does he speak as if you had a choice in this ? Why does he speak as though there is anything to be celebrated expect for you to have fallen as low as only finding some sense of peace in dying brutally to the hands a psychopath ? Is this what he wants to reward you for ? Does he really think you’ll agree to it ? You refuse to believe it.

“Ah you’re right, that was a poor choice of words,” he admits in a childlike voice as if he’d heard your thoughts, but it’s not the first time he'd done that. “Rather, I think you’d enjoy our playdates much more if you indulged yourself a bit…” His voice grows huskier as the hand holding your hips moves lower and lower, somewhere he’s never been. “I promise to make it feel so good you’ll forget your own name…” he whispers sensually to your ear before his tone suddenly shifts to sadistic glee. “And then…I’ll watch that beautiful blissful expression of yours turn to absolute agony !”

His revelation turns your body to stone as you attempt to process what he just suggested. This can’t be real. All of this just because he wanted to fuck you  ? No, it was not just about sex -not when he could do so much better than you-, this was about the additional control he’d have over you. He’d already gained ownership over you once he became the only one able to give you pain, and by becoming the only one able to give you pleasure, he’d have complete control of your strings.

“I’m not interested, get off of me,” you try to sound calm, much calmer than the inner chaos that your mind is right now.

“Really ?” How could a word carry so much darkness ?

Before you can react, you feel  a hand grabbing your hair in a tight grip then violently yanking  you aside, in a soundless cry till you’re forced to look at him. You close your eyes on instinct, refusing to submit to his gaze. Tears prickle at the corner of your eyes but you ignore them, instead focusing on the sensation of his cold face against your own.

“I have to admit, it’s been a while since I found someone so pathetic and hopeless. Kinda reminds me of…” he ponders while you try keep your breathing steady. “Oh no I shouldn’t speak of him when he isn’t here,” he seems to mumble to himself. “But really, you have nothing to lose here, cutie,” he finishes in a sing-song voice.

“You’re only doing this to hurt the King,” you finally manage to breath in a cracked voice.

“And what of it ?” he says in a surprisingly flat tone, which causes you to stop struggling. “You’ve only hurt him since you arrived here.”

You don’t want to hear it, not from him.

“You ignored him, didn’t even try to spare his feelings or spend time with him because you were too engrossed in the only thing that mattered to you .”

How dare he lecture you about feelings ? Him, out of everyone you’ve met ?

“And when you asked him to kill you ? Oh, that was beautiful !” He laughs heartfully. “Trying to use his own words against him so shamelessly…I’ll remember this for a while haha !”

“Stop…” you whisper weakly.

“Stop fooling yourself Darling, you’ve never cared for him,” voice full of poison slipping into your already sick mind. “Maybe you actually like to see him so miserable.”

“ That’s not true !” you cry out. “I never wanted him to suffer because of me !”

But have you ever done  anything to prove it ?

“I never-“ you struggle to form a coherent sentence. “I didn’t-“

“Didn’t even give him a chance, went straight to me instead. How fucked up is that huh ?”

You’re trembling, trembling from the truth of his words, trembling from the coldness of his body, trembling from realizing you’re the villain of this story.

“After all,” he murmurs right into your soul, “monsters recognize each other, isn’t that how the saying goes ?”

He lets go of you, and you crumble. You barely register your body falling to the ground as you feel your nails dig into your skin. He sighs.

“Come on sweetheart, you know I’m the only one who can make you feel better. It’s only going to get better from now on. “We’re gonna have so much fun you and I =)”

 [ACCEPT HIS OFFER]           [RUN AWAY]           [JUMP OVER THE EDGE]

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

Okay, so there are three endings to this fic, I intend to do them all but I’m really interested in which one you’d like to read first. I’ll regulary check to see what people want during the next few days.

Pick your poison :)

[champagne-bucky]

The Things We Do for Money

Summary: Your boss is a pain in the ass… sometimes 

Warnings: Chris Evans x Reader, smut, oral (female receiving), a bit of drunk! Chris

Notes: I know Chris Evans has big brat energy and I needed to get it out of my system.

There was no one on this planet who could hate their job as much as you hate yours. Sometimes you’d curse yourself out for agreeing to take on this stupid assistants job, but you were in a pinch and desperately needed the money. Now here you are, stuck three months in with the most absurd and demanding boss. He always has you doing his bitch work for him.

Okay, you’ll run out and get him a coffee from time to time when he’s at work. You’ll go run the errands and make the phone calls he’s unable to make, but you drew the line the second he asked you to do the most dumbest tasks for him. 

He started acting ridiculous literally a month into the job, when he called you at the ungodly hour of 5 a.m. Turns out the dumbass couldn’t find his running shoes and you had schlepped yourself half an hour to his house only to find them under the bed the first minute of your arrival. Then, he’d call you for things like tying his shoe laces “because his hands were tired”, whatever the fuck that means, or picking out his evening wear when he’d go out with the guys (and he’d never end up liking what you picked out!)

Now here you are, in your cold ass car in the middle of a Boston winter, driving to your bosses house at the crack ass of dawn. You were annoyed because the night before he’d kept you up till late rattling off your To-Do list for the very next day, half the stuff would probably be scratched from the list anyways. 

Your phone started to ring and you groaned knowing exactly who it was... BECAUSE WHO ELSE WAS UP THIS EARLY!?!?

“Yes, Chris,” you grumbled.

“Whoa, whoa, someone’s a little grouchy for 5:30 in the morning. Speaking of, you’re 30 minutes too late,” you wanted to cure the bastard out, but then he followed up with a laugh.

“Kidding, kidding, anyways, Assistant, I need a favor,” here we go…

“I’m your assistant, doing you favors is my job description, and I have a name you know.”

“Eh, Assistant suits you better. Anyways, if you could run to the shop and pick up my shoes for that award show I have later, oh, and schedule me a haircut would you? You know what to tell them,” this man was way too cheery for this early in the morning.

“No, it does not, the award show is three months away, and no, I do not know how you get your haircut, and I don’t want to know,” Chris responded with a low whistle.

“Gee, someone’s a little cranky monster. Let’s fix that frown before you come over okay?” you grit your teeth. Chris didn’t like a nasty attitude and he had the power to fire you for it.

“Yes, Mr. Evans,” you huffed and he hung up the phone after telling you a few more demands.

__

As much as this man was slowly pushing you towards your breaking point, the job came with perks. One of those being travel. You never had an opportunity to travel a lot and working for Chris gave you the chance. From Singapore to Australia, you finally got to see what was beyond your small town of Massachusetts. 

Right now, you were in Atlanta where Chris was filming a new Marvel movie. You didn’t get to see much of the set, or the cast, or the inside of your bosses trailer, but you did get to see a lovely highway every couple hours while running around for that pain in the ass. However, when you got done you got to have lunch in Chris’ trailer without him, which was a big plus. Actually, every moment away from Chris was a true blessing.

“ASSISTANT” you groaned as you heard your name being called from outside the trailer. You put down your half eaten sandwich and swung open the trailer door. There stood Chris in his Captain America suit, arms crossed and tapping his foot.

“Yes, Mr. Evans?” Chris put a smile on his face and motioned you to come closer to him. You stepped closer, but he made you come even closer. You came as close to his mouth and he whispered in your ear.

“Do you know what time it is?” you pulled back from his lips with a confused expression.

“Uh, no. W-What time is it?”

“Time for you to help me out of this tight ass costume,” your eyes went wide in horror. Not this shit again.

“No, no, please Mr. Evans, can’t you ask someone else, like a male, to take off your costume,” you pleaded as marched past you.

“Nope, that’s why I hired an assistant, Assistant. Now hurry up, the boots are the hardest to get off,” you groaned and stepped into the trailer.

Chris sat down on the couch and motioned for you to get by his one boot. You grimaced and got to your knees and started to take the boot off. You tugged and tugged until it loosened a little. When it finally did, the whole room filled with a stench.

“Mr. Evans, ew, can’t you wear socks with these things,” Chris let out a deep chuckle and shook his head.

“Can’t do that or the boots will be too tight on my poor little feet,” he put out the other boot clad foot.

“Little is an understatement, sir,” Chris covered up his small groan with a clear of his throat.

“Well Assistant, you know what they say about big feet,” you choked on your spit and looked up at the man.

“They sign you big paychecks. Now hurry up, I’m getting drinks with the guys tonight,” you groaned again and worked the other boot off.

When the costume was fully off, averting your eyes where necessary, Chris was changing back into his regular clothes while a knock sounded at the door.

“Get that for me, Assistant,” you went to the door and swung it open and were faced with two of his co-workers, Anthony and Sebastian.

“Oh, assistant girl? We aren’t interrupting anything are we?” Anthony winked and Sebastian chuckled. Your cheeks were heating up at that comment when you felt Chris behind you.

“Yeah guys, just one second I gotta put on a shirt,” your eyes noticeably widened knowing Chris was right behind you, shirtless. 

The men suppressed their laughter at your shocked expression. They probably thought you were sleeping with your boss! Oh god, listen, Chris wasn’t an unattractive man, hell no, but he was your boss (and also a pain in the ass), you couldn’t cross that sort of line. 

“I’ll be going now, Assistant. Clean up for me and finish up that list,” Chris grabbed his wallet and left the trailer.

“Yes, Mr. Evans.”

Anthony and Sebastian stopped in their tracks to laugh a little. When Chris turned around to give them a ‘what’ look Anthony finally spoke. 

“Yes, Mr. Evans. I’ll clean up the trailer and then clean you up later, sir,” Anthony mocked your voice as Chris punched his arm lightly.

_

That blare of your ringtone made you shoot up out of your peaceful sleep and clutch your heart. You peered over at the time to see that it was 3 a.m. Groaning, you ignored that call without seeing who it was and tried to sleep again, but then they called you back.

You turned your light on and grabbed your phone and saw that Chris was calling you. Pissed off and tired, you answered the phone with an angry ‘what’.

“Oh, Assistant, I need you,” Chris sounded like he was slurring his words. He was still at the bar?

“Mr. Evans? Are you drunk?”

“Yessssss, I made an oopsie and had tooooo much to drink. Can you pwetty pwease come pick me up. Pleaseeeeeeeeeeee…” he dragged out the last vowel as you started looking for your keys.

“Fine, but you’re paying me overtime for this,” you slide on your shoes and run out of the hotel room to go get the big drunken baby.

It took you awhile, but you finally found the bar Chris was at. Luckily, he has always shared his phone location with you for emergencies like these. It didn’t take long to find him either seeing as he was moping on the curb nursing a beer in his hands. 

You rolled your eyes and got out of the car. Chris’ ears perked up at the sound of a door slamming shut and he immediately was smiling like a dope. 

“ASSISTANT!” He screamed and held his arms out for you. The people passing by on the sidewalk gave him dirty looks.

“Chris, shhhh, let’s get you back into the car, okay?”

“HEY! THAT’S MR. EVANS TO YOU or sir if you want to spice things up,” he barely whispered and gave you a wink. Scoffing, you shoved him into your tiny car before he took off down the street.

The drive back to Chris’ Atlanta home was a bit of a drive, but there was not much traffic on the road so it would be quicker than usual. Chris was falling asleep in the passengers seat, but would come to every so often to slur something stupid. This time, when his head went up to speak to you his words were loud and clear.

“You’re pretty,” your cheeks were heating up, but it was too dark to see.

“Thank you, Mr. Evans.”

“And kind, sweet, lovely,” he was showering you with compliment after compliment and you didn’t know how to respond.

“I like you, Assistant,” you tried to keep your composure, but you were stunned. He was drunk so that meant nothing, right?

“I would figure since you keep me around all the time,” you laughed off.

“Noooo, I really like you. Not in a “like” you, but in a “like like” like you way,” his body was now fully turned to face you. 

“Oh, well, Mr. Evans I’m flattered, but you’re my boss. I can’t ruin our professional relationship,” Chris let out a whine just as you were pulling up to his house and getting out of the car.

“Then as your boss, I demand you to like like me,” you laughed as you opened the car door for him to get out.

“Mr. Evans, you know we can’t allow that,” you tried your best to joke with him, but he kept up pestering you.

“How about a thank you for helping me get home,” you furrowed your brows as Chris unlocked his door and was leaning up on the threshold.

“Umm, Mr. Evans I-,” you didn’t get a chance to finish because Chris grabbed your face and was leaving a sloppy kiss on your lips.

Your eyes were probably wider than they have ever been in your lifetime. Chris Evans was kissing you. Chris Evans was kissing his assistant. Chris Evans was drunk and kissing a woman who he signs her paychecks for every week. 

He pulled back a few moments later with a satisfied look on his face. He was still stumbling drunk, but it seemed as if he didn’t care. Chris had a cocky grin on his face while looking at your frozen expression.

“Um, Mr. Evans, um. I’ll see you tomorrow,” and you sprinted back to your car and pulled out of the driveway, not even glancing back at your boss.

_

It had been a while since the whole drunk kiss incident. The day after that night you didn’t bring up what had happened and neither did Chris. 

You assumed that he was so drunk that he probably forgot about the kiss. To be fair, he didn’t even remember him calling you to come pick him up or the whole drive back home. He must’ve forgotten about the kiss and you intended to never bring it up.

Things between you and your boss went back to normal after that. You were still dealing with his antics and absurdities, but it paid your bills so you couldn't complain. However, Chris seemed to be lenient with you nowadays.

You couldn’t put your finger on it, but he definitely changed his demeanor recently. He let you come into work an hour later than usual, anytime you said you were unable to do something he let it slide, and he also had given you a raise out of nowhere. Maybe he was changing…

“ASSISTANT,” nevermind…

“ASSISTANT!” you followed Chris’ voice to the backyard where he was standing by the pool.

“Yes, Mr. Evans,” you rolled your eyes.

“Assistant, can you do me a favor?”

“Will I get fired for saying no?”

“Yes.”

“Then what is it,” you walked over to him as he started to take off his shirt.

“I want to go for a swim, but I don’t want to miss an important phone call I should be getting.”

“And?”

“And I want you to sit out here and watch my phone till it rings,” you looked at him in disbelief. He really wants you to babysit a phone?

“Are you serious? You just want me to sit out here and stare at your phone?”

“Well, I’d invite you to join me in the pool, but you don’t have a swimsuit,” Chris scoffed and jumped into the pool.

You rolled your eyes and took a seat on the lounge chair. If you were going to babysit his phone you might as well relax a bit. Plus, you didn’t mind the little show you were getting courtesy of Chris.

About an hour went by and still no phone call. Chris had been busy swimming laps in his pool and playing with Dodger who would jump in for a swim. Either Chris was pulling your leg just so you could watch him or this phone call was never happening. You’d think after an hour someone would call soon.

You moved to get up and go back in the kitchen to answer some emails to the rest of Chris’ team when he called for you to come back.

“Mr. Evans, it’s been an hour and no one has called. I have work to do, I can’t stand around all day watching you swim and wait for your phone to ring. You’re a big boy you can do it,” you didn’t hear him get out, but Chris was hot on your tail as you entered back in the house.

“So, you were watching me, huh,” you tried your best to hide the blush creeping up on your face.

“Not the point, sir. I need to get back to work,” Chris clicked his tongue between his teeth. 

“Alright, while you get back to work, I’ll be in the shower,” you went back to your computer and hummed in agreement with his plans.

You heard a ruffle of clothing hit the floor as you looked up from your laptop screen. You gasped in horror as you saw Chris had shucked his bottoms off right in front of you and turned to walk to the bathroom. You put your head down as he turned around to look at you with a satisfied smirk. 

_

The faint sound of the shower running filled the silence for a few minutes as you contemplated your next move. The swim shorts stayed where they were and you refused to pick them up. You still couldn’t get the image of your boss and his bare ass out of your head. 

What did this mean now for your job? 

“Assistant,” you froze at the sound of Chris’ voice, “I need you.”

“Now?”

“Yes, it’s urgent,” he sounded anxious.

“Yes, Mr. Evans,” you said from behind the cracked door.

“Can you get me a towel from the closet? I forgot mine.”

You went to grab him a towel and stuck your hand through the door. When you didn’t feel him take the towel from you you got worried.

“Mr. Evans,” you called out.

All of a sudden the door opened and you were face to face with a naked Chris Evans. You kept your wide eyes on his and pushed the towel to his chest.

“Assistant, I need some help getting dry,” you were stumbling over your words, but not for long until Chris pulled you in the bathroom with him and brought your hands up to his chest.

You kept your eyes on him and you dried off his upper body. Chris looked into your eyes with adoration and a hint of lust. This was getting too serious way too fast, you went to pull away, but he grabbed your wrists.

“You know, I meant what I said. You are very pretty,” you gasped. 

“Chris,” he pulled you closer until your lips touched. Fuck it. You couldn’t fight this anymore. This gorgeous man wanted you and a part of you wanted this pain in the ass too.

The kiss started slow, but descended into something so raw and animalistic. Your tongues were all over each other’s mouths and your teeth were scraping and hitting together. Chris pushed you up against the bathroom door and moved his lips to your neck.

“So good, wanted you for so fucking long,” he continued to kiss down your neck to the collar of your shirt.

“I want this off, now Y/N,” you gasped again. That was the first time he ever used your real name.

You couldn’t deny his orders, so you happily took off your shirt, bra included, and threw them on the floor. Chris went to praise you for being so good and attacked your sensitive buds. 

He scraped, licked, and sucked gently on each nipple, giving him all the attention they deserved. You moaned loudly and he went to kiss you again. He pressed himself into your thigh and started to grind.

“All for you, baby. It’s all for you,” you let out a breathy moan.

“Please, Chris, please, sir. I want it,” Chris growled in response.

His hands began to wander. They rubbed up and down your sides before they inched their way towards your center. Chris took his one hand and put it under your shorts. You whimpered as he went and rubbed your center in teasing strokes.

“Chris, please,” he removed his hand and opened the bathroom door.

“Patience, baby,” Chris picked up your shaking body and carried you throughout the house towards his bedroom.

He kicked opened the door and laid you down on the bed. Chris removed your shorts and stood back to admire your bare body. His thumbs drew small circles around your hips as he looked up at you with dark eyes.

Chris connected his lips with the top of your belly button and started to kiss downwards. He came in contact with your pussy, but wouldn’t kiss it. His lips ghosted yours, his beard was scratching the surrounding area. It seemed as if time had stopped when all of a sudden he attacked your core. 

Your hands flew down to his hair and began to pull at the roots. Chris groaned into your pussy as you arched your hips into his mouth. He brought his thumb to your clit and started to rub fast and hard circles. You were so close to cumming, but you could barely form the words.

You tried to tell him, but it felt so good and he was doing all the right things to restrict your speech. The tiny bubble within you had grown bigger and bigger and was going to pop any second. Chris started to thrust two fingers in you while his lips sucked your clit and that’s when it happened.

“Holy fuck,” you looked up with a heaving chest to see Chris’ beard, lips, and fingers soaked. His eyes grew darker as he grabbed your chin and kissed your breath away.

“Fucking squirted all over me baby, how you gonna clean me up?” He nuzzled his face into your neck and started to pepper kisses all over.

You were at a loss for words, but your body was doing all the talking. Your hips started to thrust up into Chris’ thigh and he looked down with a smirk.

“I know you want it, honey. Give me one second,” Chris moved off your body and made his way to his nightstand drawer. He pulled out a condom and rolled it on.

Now, he was back on top of you and drinking you in. You kissed one more time before he lifted your leg over his shoulder and positioned himself at your sensitive entrance.

“You sure?” You shook your head rapidly at his question.

“Yes, get on with it, sir,” he smirked as he entered you.

The stretch hurt, but the pain was replaced with pleasure as he started to thrust. He started off slow, careful not to hurt you, but he was going deeper into your pussy. You cried and slapped his bicep, urging him to go faster.

“If that’s what baby wants, then that’s what baby will get,” and Chris went into overdrive.

You screamed his name and moaned so loud that you were sure the neighbors would hear you. Chris loved hearing those sweet noises and was doing all he could to make them louder. You were reaching a second high, but Chris was still keeping a brutal pace.

“Chris, I’m about to cum.”

“Hold on, sweetheart. We aren’t finished this just yet,” he grabbed your other leg and threw it over his shoulder, attempting a deeper angle.

Chris kissed you with all his might. His tongue evaded your mouth once more and his thrusts were getting faster and faster. A sweat broke out on him and he was getting close. 

“Baby, you can let go whenever you want,” a final scream ripped through you as you arched your back and came for the second time.

Chris fucked you even harder through your orgasm. He wanted to fuck your pussy so that it was be sensitive for the next couple days. He wanted you to never forget this moment.

Tears formed in your eyes as he kept going. You were trying to keep up, but your body started to get weak. Chris noticed this and worked faster to get himself to the edge.

When he finally came, it felt as if his eyes had rolled back up into his head. He was sweaty and growing tired, but he didn’t want to leave your pussy yet. He knew he had to because the position you were in was starting to get uncomfortable. Chris finally removed himself and threw the condom out.

He saw your eyes were dropping and quickly picked you up to take you to the bathroom. He let you do your business and went to grab you a bottle of water. 

When you came out of the bathroom, with shaky legs, Chris was there with a water bottle  by the bedside table and the sheets drawn back waiting for you to get in beside him. You gladly accepted the comfy spot next to him and soon you drifted off to sleep.

__

When you finally woke up, you felt something heavy weighing down across your abdomen. Your eyes shot up as you looked around a room you didn't recognize. As if right on que, Chris groans beside you and opens his eyes. He smiled and pressed you closer to his body and gave you a sweet kiss to your temple.

“Evening,” Chris buried himself in your hair as you lifted your head to look out the window, confirming it was night.

“What time is it?” your voice was strained.

“Close to 11. Didn’t think we’d be out for this long,” he winked and for a moment you forgot why you were in his bed.

“OH MY GOD,” you gasped and shot up and Chris followed suit.

“WHAT? WHAT’S WRONG?”

“WE HAD SEX!”

“I KNOW I WAS THERE. WHY ARE YOU YELLING?” Chris matched your voice.

“I’M YELLING BECAUSE YOU’RE MY BOSS. I SLEPT WITH MY FUCKING BOSS,” you slammed your head back down on the pillow and buried your face in it. You only lifted your head off the pillow to hear him laughing at you.

“I get why you’re laughing, but I’m not. I’m a slut,” Chris laid back down next to you and pulled you into his arms.

“Hey, hey, you are not a slut. Please don’t think of yourself that way,” he cradled you into his arms.

“I did the one thing that nobody is supposed to do. I shouldn’t have ruined our professional relationship,” you tried to break free from Chris’ hold, but you wouldn’t let you go. 

“Listen to me, you did not do anything wrong. I wanted to ask you out for a long time… I just, well, you see-”

“You got piss ass drunk and ruined your plans,” you giggled into his bare chest. 

“That’s one way of putting it, yeah,” and he laughed along with you.

“So, I guess this means I should resign now shouldn’t I?”

“Not necessarily no, I still need my assistant.”

“So I get to sleep with you AND be on payroll? Wow, what a dream come true,” Chris laughed some more.

“We don’t have to tell anybody for a while. I’ll help you find a new job so it won’t look so fishy whenever we tell people we are dating.”

“I don’t know, I am gonna miss that fat Christmas bonus I get every year…” 

“I think I can think of a way to make up for that,” Chris’ hand was stroking up and down your thigh which made you shudder.

You turned to kiss him as you hummed in agreement. Things started to get hot and heavy once more and soon the sheets were pushed off the bed, Chris was attacking your lower half with kisses. Right when he got to your center, his phone rang.

“You wanna get that for me, Assistant?” 

[thran-duils]

Am I On the Screen? (P.1)

Title: Am I On the Screen? (Part One) Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x Fem!Reader Summary: Hugh is a prick and the reader gets herself into trouble with him with her attitude. Hugh has the perfect plan to keep her in line though. Words: 2,116 Warnings: S M U T, language, dub-con, blackmail, masturbation, online sex Author’s Notes: If something like this has been done already, welp, I suck.

Part Two || Masterpost (mobile) || Fanfic masterpost

Are you, are you filming me? Am I, am I on the screen? 'Cause it feels like your watching me 'Cause it feels like they’re watching me Am I on the screen?

-- Are You Filming Me? // twst

Marta’s laugh faltered and she cleared her throat, her eyes averting from the doorway quickly. You turned your head to look over your shoulder and saw what had made her stop laughing. Hugh. He sure had a way of sucking the air out of a room, especially with that glower he was pointing in the two of your direction.

“Hugh,” you greeted him civilly, turning the shrimp over in the pan. “Are you hungry?”

“Not for anything that you are making,” Hugh responded rudely, walking past you towards the fridge.

You shot Marta a vexed look and she rose her eyebrows, shaking her head slightly.

“Well, there’s some take out on the second shelf in the fridge that I can assure you I had nothing to do with. I just picked it up for my lunch. If you want, I’ll trade you that for a plate of what I’m making,” you said, unable to help yourself.

Hugh stopped, his hand on the handle of the fridge. Unamused, he stared at you for a few moments before saying, “You should watch your mouth, Y/N.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” you quipped, turning the stove off, and moving to arrange Harlan’s plate.

You could feel Hugh’s glare burning into your back and you smirked to yourself at having gotten under his skin even just a little bit. The prick deserved to be knocked down a couple pegs.

<><><>

Gym bag slung over your shoulder, you slammed your car door closed and locked it. On the way up to your townhouse door, you unlocked your mailbox and grabbed the papers inside. You were looking forward to your shower, thinking of the sweet relief you would get from the hot water.

Upon opening your front door, you almost stepped onto an envelope that had been slid underneath the door. You closed the door and turned around, placing your bag down along with the other mail on the entrance table. You swooped down and picked up the unmarked envelope, confused why it had not just been slipped into your mailbox.

“What…” you muttered, staring down at the photos.

Bile rose in your throat realizing what it was. They were screenshots of you from your OnlyFans account during one of your live events. And you quickly noticed it was not from just one; there were a handful of them, you in different lingerie, different toys. A note was with the pictures.

I want you to say my name when you’re riding that large, pretty, purple dildo tonight.

Who sent you this and why? There was no name attached to it. And how the hell did they know where you lived? A chill crept down your spine, thinking of all the true crime documentaries that you had binged and all the women who were kidnapped and murdered, their bodies never found.

Unnerved, you tore the photos and the note up, rushing towards the kitchen. You shoved the ruined remains in the trash, shoving them as far down as you could. Stepping back, your eyes were glued to the trashcan, anxiety creeping. What if you had a stalker?

You bit your lip, trying to think of all the ways you could protect yourself if you were approached on the street or god forbid, someone broke into your home.

The clock caught your attention, and you swore, realizing you had been standing there for fifteen minutes worrying and had cut into your shower time. You still needed to get to work. Trying to ignore the nagging anxiety, you rushed to get ready.

<><><>

Throughout the day, your mind had continuously returned to the note and the pictures. You could not go to the police to file a report or anything, they would think you were being over dramatic. Plus, you were not keen on sharing your account and really, no one had done anything illegal. Still, you were frightened.

At the end of the day when dinner was finished and you had breakfast set up for the morning for Marta to get ready for Harlan when she got there in the morning, you stopped at the bathroom on the way out the door to relieve yourself before the drive home. When you opened the door, you jumped seeing Hugh standing there, just waiting, looking very much a predator.

Hugh rested his hand on the doorframe, leaning in and effectively blocking your way out of the bathroom.

“Do you need something?” you asked, your tone short. On top of the anxiety you already had, you did not want to deal with this dickhead. When had he shown up anyway?

His smile did not reach his eyes as his eyes wandered down, unabashedly soaking you in. Your mouth set into a thin line. If he was trying to unnerve you by being a pompous ass, he was going to have to try harder than throwing you a lewd look.

“Did you get my gift?” Hugh asked nonchalantly. Your brow stitched, confused. He leaned in closer, a malicious glint in his eyes. “I’d prefer it if you reverse cowgirl’d it while you’re saying my name.”

Your breath froze in your chest and he knew the moment that it clicked for you, an arrogant smile painted on his lips.

“You… bastard,” you got out, before trying to move past him.

He blocked your way again and you clenched your jaw, fury thrumming underneath your skin at the smug look on his face.

“Does my grandfather not pay you enough? I would imagine he does but maybe you’ve got more expensive tastes than you give off,” Hugh ridiculed you. He rose his brows and whispered, “Or maybe you just like knowing there are people getting off to that perfectly round ass.” You tried to get around him again and he chuckled, blocking your way once more. “Did I hit a nerve, babydoll?”

He gripped your jaw and you tried to jerk away but he clamped down harder, stopping you from doing so. “I’ve been watching you for a while. You put on quite the show. I just can’t seem to bring myself to actually bury myself inside you though. I’ve certainly thought about it… showing up at your place and making you wrap those beautiful lips around my cock. But I beat off to whores, not fuck them. Keeps me clean.”

You slapped his hand away, angry tears stinging at your eyes. “Get. Out. Of. My. Way.”

“Not until you tell me you’re gonna do like I asked.”

Scoffing, you told him as calmly as you could, “I don’t do it for free.”

“Oh, you aren’t,” Hugh assured you. “I already pay to subscribe, remember? But trust me, your job is on the line. What if I showed my grandfather what his cook is doing afterhours? Do you think he would want to keep a slut employed and tied to his name? That is a lot of money on the table and so you aren’t doing it for free. And don’t even think about quitting because I’ll find out where you work. And I have no problem sending the photos there too. So… you’re kind of stuck with me, pumpkin.”

He gripped your chin with his thumb and forefinger, forcing you to nod as he mimicked a higher pitched voice, “’Yes, Hugh, I’ll beg for you’.” In his regular voice, he practically purred, “C’mon, Y/N. Say it nice and clear for daddy.”

You had no choice. You knew he would make good on his threats; he was not one to mess around about people not following his orders.

Strained, you told him, “Yes, I’ll do it.”

He cupped his hand to his ear, “’I’ll do it…’”

You grated, “Daddy.”

“Perfect. You’re a peach,” Hugh told you grinning. He leaned back, dropping his arm. As soon as you saw the exit, you made to rush past him. At the last second, he reached out, grasping your arm and stopping your momentum. “Oh, and by the way… that purple heart plug too. Just to match.”

He gave you one last self-satisfied smirk before letting go of you and you took off, feeling his eyes burn into the back of your head.

<><><>

Legs spread in front of the camera, you tweaked your nipple through your black lace bra. You had put your garter and thigh highs on to match but were panty less. You had already stripped and done some oral play, something the commenters could not seem to ever get enough of.

You uttered his name for the first time, “I want Hugh.”

Your finger running tantalizingly slow down your slit, staring into the camera. You hated how much it sounded like ‘you’, meaning anyone could be hearing it thinking nothing of it. But you knew Hugh was getting off on knowing you were saying his name.

Pressing your fingers in, you spread your lips, showing yourself off to the camera. A new slew of messages popped up, encouraging you to play with your clit.

“I’m sure you wish it was you,” you breathed, well versed on dirty talk during your live feeds. “I’m sure your fingers would be so much better…” You slipped a finger in. “Your fingers instead filling me up. Getting me ready for that big cock of yours.”

You were good and wet now, comments coming in lusting after the glisten on your lips. Remembering what he asked, your fingers left your sex and you got up, moving the camera to the ground and angled upwards. Grabbing the dildo, you wet the bottom of it, suctioning it to the hardwood floor. For good measure, you added a healthy amount of lube to the dildo, making sure the camera could see your hand massaging it, a sly smirk on your face.

None of this would be out of the ordinary if it was not for the fact you knew Hugh was watching. You could not get the image of him sitting behind his screen, his hand stroking himself watching you abide to his whims.

Spreading your cheeks, you showed off the plug and heard the chime of new messages being sent. You could not help but smile, knowing that was a treat for the viewers. The head of the dildo entered you and you moaned softly. You started slow, adjusting to the girth, moving inch by inch down the length. Gradually, you increased the depth and speed, encouraging whoever was watching to think about their own dicks fucking you like this.

“I want Hugh to fuck me,” you gasped, riding the dildo quickly, your fingers stroking your clit. You were getting close and you leaned completely into it, your mind a haze. “I want Hugh to fuck me so bad. Hugh can cum inside me, fill me up. I’ll take every inch, daddy. Please fuck me. I’m your dirty girl.” Your hand was moving erratically and a few more strokes sent you tumbling over the edge. You gasped, seeing stars, clenching around the dildo.

You sat there for a couple moments, relishing in your high.

As your mind cleared, your cheeks burned thinking about all the things you had said lost to your passion. The thought of Hugh’s hand covered in his cum, head thrown back at your complete submission to his request flashed through your mind. Thankfully, your face was away from the camera and you swallowed, trying to calm yourself down. And also thankfully, your red face could be attributed to that mind blowing orgasm you just gave yourself.

The dildo was wet when you came up off of it and you picked up the camera, taking it with you to sit it back down in front of your station.

Your eyes met the camera again and you gave it a sensual smile, your eyes flicking to all the new comments, positive encouragement ringing throughout them. Your hand slipped down to your cunt and you brought your fingers up to your lips, sucking on them gently.

“I think I’m gonna take a shower. I’ll think about your hands washing me down,” you told the camera before blowing it a kiss. “Good night.”

As soon as the camera was off, your hands shook as you brought them back to your lap.

That had been a great orgasm. And you hated it.

Your phone buzzed and you whipped your head around to look at it over on your bed. Standing up, you picked it up, staring down at the text. You did not have the number saved but you knew damn well who it was and how he had gotten it in the first place.

I’m gonna break my rule. Don’t shower. Keep that pussy glistening for me.

~~~

Tags: @coconutqueen21

[hellpark]

KENNY: Oh god...

KENNY: Ohhh shit-- pick up the damn phone for chrissake-- 

TOKEN: Kenny...?

TOKEN: You alright?

KENNY: No I ain’t alright!

KENNY: Karen hung up on me!

TOKEN: Oh...

TOKEN: Does that mean you’re done with my phone, then?

KENNY: N-no, no I gotta try n’ call her again.

KENNY: Just.

KENNY: Just gimmie a sec, she’s gotta pick up...

TOKEN: Right... take your time, dude..

KENNY: There’s no time to take!

KENNY: She hung up right after she said some damn stranger was in the house!

TOKEN: Oh, jeez...

KENNY: God dammit, I think she turned her phone off...!

KENNY: Oh god oh god, what the hell am I gonna do thirty fucking miles out of town?!

TOKEN: It’ll be okay Kenny, I’m sure--

KENNY: No, it’s not gonna be okay! 

KENNY: Who knows who or what is in that house with her, look at where we are right now!

CRAIG: Hey.

CRAIG: Do you guys wanna shut up, maybe?

CRAIG: You’re distracting me from my shit.

TOKEN: Oh, sorry Craig...

TOKEN: Kenny’s having some issues with Karen, I think.

CRAIG: Uhuh...

CRAIG: I don’t care.

CRAIG: [grumble grumble]

CRAIG: (Can’t even browse tumblr without someone getting hay shoved up their ass right in front of me...)

CRAIG: (Why are either of them even still awake.)

CRAIG: (Why do I have to be cooped up in a stupid barn with all these people right now...)

CRAIG: (Why is--)

CRAIG: 

CRAIG: Whhhh...

CRAIG: W--

CRAIG: That’s m--

CRAIG: That’s my blog.

CRAIG: This is on my blog.

CRAIG: Th--

CRAIG: ...

CRAIG: WHAT IS THIS SHIT DOING ON MY BLOG???

CRAIG: I--

KENNY: Craig???

KENNY: What’s the matter, I don’t think I’ve ever heard you yell so loud in your life!

STAN: Yeah, shut the hell up over there, some of us are trying to sleep.

CRAIG: ...Y... you shut up...!

CRAIG: Fuck your sleep, I have a problem!

STAN: Yeah, I know, we kind of got teleported here by a freaking demon, dude.

STAN: We’ve all got problems right now, you’re not special.

CRAIG: I’ll kick your ass!

STAN: Go ahead, it’s already facing right towards you.

STAN: I’ll even wiggle it a little to make it a moving target, if you wanna make a game out of it.

CRAIG: WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?!

TOKEN: Jesus, dude, what’s wrong?

CRAIG: Besides Stan Marsh being as stupid as ever?!

KENNY: We mean what the hell made you yell so loud, dude???

CRAIG: Oh, I’ll tell you!

CRAIG: This guy is posting shitty selfies of himself on my blog!

CRAIG: MY blog, and he has the audacity to post them with--

CRAIG: W-with...

CRAIG: With him sitting right next to him like it’s nothing!

CRAIG: There’s a circus in my house and I’ll bet you money it was that stupid Tweek demon guy who led us all away so they could party it up in my room!

CRAIG: We should have never let that stupid goat take us all the way out here.

CRAIG: Now they’re all fiddling with my shit and probably having a laugh about it, look at him in this picture!

CRAIG: Look at who’s in the fucking picture with him!!!

KENNY: OH GOD...

CRAIG: Oh god is right!

CRAIG: They’re messing with all my shit!!!

CRAIG: I’m freaking the hell out!

CRAIG: I’m so fucking close to kiCKING STAN’S STUPID ASS STOP SHAKING YOUR BUTT AROUND YOU FUCKING DELIRIATE.

STAN: maybe shut up first lol

KENNY: OH MY GOD, KAREN!

KENNY: SHE SAID SHE WAS HANGING OUT WITH YOUR SISTER IN YOUR HOUSE, CRAIG.

KENNY: SHE HUNG UP AND WON’T ANSWER MY CALLS!

TOKEN: They tried to chuck us all off the side of a bridge, who knows what they could be doing right now?!

CRAIG: TOUCHING MY SHIT IS WHAT THEY’RE DOING!!!

CRAIG: Touching my shit, putting pictures of themselves and Thomas’s corpse sitting in my bedroom!

TOKEN: Craig, I think this is a little more important than them touching your computer!

TOKEN: They could have hurt your guys’ sisters!

CRAIG: BUT LOOK AT WHAT HE POSTED ON MY BLOG!!!!!

KENNY: Craig, I know it’s probably goddamn traumatizing to see that shit right now!!!

KENNY: I know it’s hard for you to grasp this sorta thing during a meltdown.

KENNY: I’m sorry you��re having a difficult time with all of this crap, but there’s people actually in danger in your house right now, man!

CRAIG: Don’t tell me I’m having a meltdown!

TOKEN: Oh my god, okay--

TOKEN: Kenny, let’s just pull ourselves away for a minute here.

CRAIG: Don’t turn your backs on me like that!!!

TOKEN: Just ignore Craig for a second.

TOKEN: There’s demons in Craig’s house, Karen and Craig’s sister are in Craig’s house-- what do you think should be done?

TOKEN: What can we possibly do from here?

KENNY: I ain’t got a damn clue!

KENNY: We gotta get someone over there to help them out!

TOKEN: Okay, well maybe that isn’t such a good idea?

TOKEN: We’ve seen what they can do, right?

TOKEN: Is it smart to drag someone else into this?

KENNY: Token, you don’t have a freakin’ sister, you don’t know what this is like.

TOKEN: Okay. You’re right.

TOKEN: But I don’t know if--

KENNY: Wait.

TOKEN: What is it, man?

KENNY: I know exactly who to call.

KENNY: Ain’t no way he’s tangled all up in this mess yet, neither.

KENNY: Won’t gonna get his ass whooped neither.

TOKEN: Okay, well who’s that?

KENNY: My boyfriend.

DOGPOO: snrrk nsnzznnzzzzzzzzzzz...,.

[ ♫ I’M A BARBIE GIRL, IN A BARBIE WORLD ♫ ]

[ ♫ LIFE IN PLASTIC, IT’S FANTASTIC ♫ ]

DOGPOO: fhnfnhmmghfghg

DOGPOO: [yawn]

DOGPOO: An unknown caller disrupting my sleep, now...?

DOGPOO: Just who on earth could be calling me at this devilish hour of the night...?

DOGPOO: Mmhhello--

KENNY: Hushpuppy stain in the rug, we got some demon huntin’ to do!

KENNY: Grab yer damn shooter n’ get ready to pump lead!!!

DOGPOO: KENNY???

KENNY: Damn right!

DOGPOO: DEMON HUNTING?

DOGPOO: Y’AIN’T PULLIN ME, ARE YOU NOW?

KENNY: Hell no, I ain’t whistlin’ no dixie over here, I’m a gallon o’ gas aways from town and the fuckin’ devil’s stampin’ his hooves in town!

KENNY: Get your red ryder and get ready to shoot some damn eyes out!

DOGPOO: You sound oh so serious, I hardly recognize the tone, honeypot!

DOGPOO: Your words shot me wide awake quicker than the smell of pie in the morning, I just can’t resist a shootin’ with you!

KENNY: I’m serious!

KENNY: I’m cooped up in a barn outta town, and there’s demons runnin’ amok with my damn sister out there!

KENNY: She’s up in a heap of danger and I ain’t got nobody in the world I’d trust more than you to keep her safe right now.

KENNY: Never been more serious in my life, ragamuffin.

DOGPOO: Oh.

DOGPOO: Karen’s caught in the throes of the devil, is she now?

DOGPOO: Seems we really ain’t playing rockahorse.

KENNY: I don’t joke around when it comes to who I love, don’t go reckonin’ I’d do it to you.

DOGPOO: I see.

DOGPOO: Well then, I’d be duller than the heel of my boot if I didn’t think I could do something about that, wouldn’t I?

DOGPOO: A demon or two doesn’t quite sound like nothin’ a shell can’t handle.

KENNY: Dogpoo, these are serious folks you’re gonna be ditzin’ around with.

KENNY: Damn near chucked me n’ my friends off a bridge a couple hours back.

DOGPOO: I still don’t see the issue here, darlin’.

DOGPOO: You might have death’s hand hovering your shoulder, but one look at me and they’ll be wishing they were busy chopping onions instead.

DOGPOO: I’ll get your sister out of the slick, just you wait.

KENNY: Alright. I trust you, mudskip.

KENNY: You’re the rankest varmint this side of Colorado, if anybody’s gonna get them runnin’, it’s you.

DOGPOO: A threat is nothing more than a man who’s pride is in his hands, not his skin.

KENNY: You really grabbin’ your shotty, yeah?

DOGPOO: Would you expect anything less after you’ve excited me so?

DOGPOO: I’ve got an itchy finger just beggin’ for a trigger to pull now.

KENNY: Okay, good. 

KENNY: But keep them earholes wide for me, water nugget.

KENNY: You gotta be real damn careful.

DOGPOO: I believe we’ve been over this already, Kenny.

DOGPOO: Am I to understand you’re doubting my abilities here?

KENNY: Not at all.

KENNY: These people ain’t just strangers, though.

KENNY: Well, most of them, anyhoo.

KENNY: You will know one of them, for sure.

KENNY: I ain’t got a clue on how many of them are there, but they’re all stuck up in Tucker’s house.

KENNY: Stick your barrel in the nose of any horned bastard you so damn please, but for the love of all mighty...

KENNY: Don’t let that poor bastard Thomas stick around them.

DOGPOO: You’ll need to be more specific than that, sweetie pie.

DOGPOO: There’s a few Thomas’ in this town that come to mind off of the top of my head.

KENNY: Look, I ain’t gonna dilly dally here-- you’ll know what I mean if you see ‘em. 

DOGPOO: Alright, so your shopping list here’s one Karen, one Thomas, and a face o’ lead for a demon or two, huh?

KENNY: Craig’s sister’s there with Karen.

DOGPOO: Only logical, considering what residence I’m being pointed off to.

KENNY: I don’t care what’s done.

KENNY: Just get those kids outta there.

DOGPOO: Anything for you, sunshine.

DOGPOO: Ain’t a day where you can’t count on me.

KENNY: I know.

KENNY: I love you.

DOGPOO: Love you too.

DOGPOO: Well, I suppose there isn’t anything like a two AM witch hunt...

DOGPOO: Oh, poor Kenny... whatever have you gotten yourself into this time.

[yaimlight]

Part 1 - Roses Are Red, Violets Are Blue

Raiting: older teen (swearing and mild sex references)

Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x female reader / Todoroki Shoto x female reader / Bakugou Katsuki x female reader x Todoroki Shoto

A/N: part of the Twos Company series but can be read on own. Rest of series can be found on AO3 here.

Part 2

Part 3

———————————————————————

Katsuki glared at his locker like it had personally insulted him and considering what was on there it might as well have. Some obviously suicidal idiot had stuck a massive pink heart to it, the thing covered in red glitter and ‘be my Valentine’ scrawled across the middle of it. It was ugly looking, like a fucking child had done it and Katsuki didn’t want that shit anywhere near him. He was here to become a fucking hero not to be bothered by some doe eyed extra with misplaced feelings.

Growling he ripped it off the door and set of a loud explosion, turning the thing into ash in an angry display of his annoyance. He hoped whatever idiot had put it there was watching. “Not one for declarations of love then blondie?” came a teasing voice from behind and Katsuki snapped his head round to find Y/N smirking at him over her shoulder as she made her way past him and towards her own locker. Huffing he turned back to his locker, yanking it open and letting the door bang against the one next to it. “Fucking bullshit holiday” he growled angrily, stuffing his coat inside.

Y/N raised an amused eyebrow at him, the smirk on her lips annoyingly knowing as she shucked off her leather jacket and tucked it away. Katsuki wanted to kiss the stupid look right off of her. Shit. This had to stop. Things had just been getting worse since Christmas and he was sure he was one misstep away from making an idiot of himself. It didn’t help that he had to listen to his idiotic friends constantly teasing him about their not relationship. At least the half ‘n’ half bastard was in the same situation, though his friends weren’t being such dicks about it as far as he knew.

As if to prove his point Ashido’s annoying cheerful voice came from the row of lockers behind him, her words making Katsuki scowl even more. “He’s just grumpy because he has to deal with all the lower year girls following him around all day”. Katsuki slumped his shoulders and practically shoved his head into his locker as he made a rather loud show of sorting out the books he would need for the first part of the day. He could feel eyes on him and he knew it was Y/N, his skin always prickling in a certain way when she was looking at him. Fuck he could feel his face heating up, the blush forming quickly.

Shit. Why did they have to talk about this shit, especially with Y/N right fucking there? Wasn’t it bad enough that he had to spend the day putting up with all those shitty extras following him around, making fucking heart eyes at him and trying to give him overly sweet and disgusting chocolate? Now they had to bring Y/N into it, the only person he probably wouldn’t get angry with if she gave him chocolate today. He wasn’t stupid though, he knew that despite their rather close relationship that wasn’t going to happen.

She had had every opportunity that morning to hand over any sweets she might of intended for him but she hadn’t even made any mention of what day it was let alone given either him or Todoroki the impression she intended to gift them something. They had spent the whole morning together for fucks sake, the three of them waking up early in a tangled mess of limbs in his bed before heading to the gym for their usual work out, Katsuki making all three of them breakfast afterwards. The only time they had been away from each other had been when the three of them had gone to get dressed and that had only lasted about twenty minutes.

So yeah she had had more than enough time to give either of them something but she hadn’t, so there for they weren’t getting shit from the girl. Not that Katsuki was disappointed or anything. No. This was a stupid holiday anyway, a money grabbing scheme to get at people’s hard earned cash and they were just idiotic enough to fall for it. He didn’t need some bullshit day to force him into telling Y/N that he loved her. Not that he did. Nope. No way what so fucking ever. Fuck he was as bad as those shitty fucking extras that followed him around.

Growling, annoyed at himself more than anything now Katsuki slammed his locker shut, the whole row rattling with the force of it. He needed to get a grip and now. “God knows why” Sero mumbled as he walked past, Katsuki’s head snapping round to snarl at him as he went past. Y/N snorted at his comment, Katsuki watching an amused smile tug at the corner of her lips as she took a heart shaped lolly from her locker before finally closing it. Her cheeks had a slight flush to them from the still rather cold air outside but it was fading quickly. She looked beautiful with the slight rosy tint to her, her full lips curved up in an inviting smile. She looked good and Katsuki wanted nothing more than to stomp over to her side and kiss her breathless but he couldn’t and that just made him angrier.

Katsuki glared at Sero, snarling at his little dig but the idiot just rolled his eyes and carried on his way to class, dunce face trailing after him. “I don’t need that annoying fucking shit” he snapped as he stormed past, intended to get to class and ignore the rest of this pointless day. He didn’t need it, not from anyone and definitely not from Y/N.

He had just made it to the end of the lockers when he felt someone press up against his side, a head resting on his shoulder. He didn’t need to look to know who it was but he still let his eyes fall, finding Y/N smiling back at him. “All those poor young girls, hearts crushed under the heavy and uncaring boot of their crush. Truly tragic” she teased, pressing a hand over her heart and waving around her stupid heart shaped lollipop, looking up at him with fake disapproval.

“Shut up” he grumbled but there was no real anger behind his words. He shoved her away from him, Y/N laughing loudly at his annoyance. She looked truly happy in that moment, all smiles and bright eyes, her lolly back in her mouth. It was annoyingly infectious and he had to fight the urge to smile back at her, his brows furrowing as his frown deepened instead.

“Shoto-kun gets it just as bad, though he is a bit oblivious to it all”. Her attention snapped away from Katsuki at round cheeks words, her amused eyes going straight to the other boy. Katsuki hadn’t even realised the rest if his class was behind them, so caught up in having Y/Ns attention on him. The half ‘n’ half was stood between round cheeks and Deku, his face blank but his eyes fixed on Y/N, his stare intense and unwavering. It would probably have most people feeling uncomfortable but she didn’t seem to mind, smiling just as brightly at him as she had at Katsuki.

She walked backwards down the corridor, pulling the lolly from between her lips with a loud and wet pop. “Oh really?” she asked, raising an eyebrow at him and that stupid smirk still on her lips. There was a knowing lilt to her voice but no one else seemed to pick up on it apart from Katsuki. He looked at her suspiciously but she ignored him, her eyes deliberately not making contact with his.

Uraraka nodded enthusiastically, almost seeming to float as she bounced over to Y/N who finally turned back around and slowed so she was walking next to Katsuki. Her hand brushed ever so slightly against his and Katsuki hastily shoved his hands in his pockets so he wouldn’t be tempted to lace his fingers with hers. That was a couple’s thing and they were not a couple.

“Last year he agreed to six dates and didn’t even realise, caused quite the fight” Uraraka said matter-of-factly. “It wasn’t that bad” the candy cane said flatly from behind and Katsuki scoffed, turning his head to look at the other teen in disbelief. “They melted the gym and set fire to the running track” he growled out and the idiot just look back at him blankly. The whole thing had been funny right up till that point and then it had just pissed Katsuki off, especially when he had ended up being dragged into helping get the screaming girls under control. He would not be doing the same this year. The idiot could fix his own mistakes.

Y/N snorted, bitting down on her lip as she tried to keep from full out laughing, though she was doing a piss poor job of it. Katsuki could feel her shaking next to him so he could only assume Todoroki could see it to. The other teen huffed, his eyes narrowing at her obvious amusement. Grunting Katsuki turned his attention back to the corridor they were on. They weren’t that far from the class now and then he could get this shit over and done with and get on with his day.

Y/N spun on her feet, turning to face the other teen. “Well, we won’t be having any of that this year”. Her smile was wide as she popped the lollipop pack between her lips, a mischievous glint in her eyes as she looked up at Todoroki. Katsuki narrowed his eyes at her, instantly suspicious. She was up to something or had already done something and Katsuki was sure it would probably end badly for him somehow. He didn’t need this on top of how crap today was already going to be.

As they got nearer the door Katsuki felt his dread grow. His desk was going to be covered with shitty cards and boxes of chocolate, all of witch he would chuck in the bin. The candy canes could join his and then he could make himself useful and set the whole thing on fucking fire.

He fell back slightly, Y/N following suit and as was now expected so did Todoroki, the other teen looking at him blankly. The rest of the class continued past them, chatting away loudly and seemingly completely ignoring the three of them. Everyone had all paired off, those who were dating sticking to each other and making fucking heart eyes at one another. It was annoying and sickening and Katsuki hatted how fucking jealous he felt that they got to be able to do all that shitty couple stuff whilst he was in some sort or weird love triangle limbo with Y/N and the shitty candy cane.

“You okay?” she asked, coming to stand next to him and placing a hand on his bicep. He could feel her through his uniform, her hand hot like a brand and he was surprised that his blazer wasn’t smoking from the heat of it. “I’m fine” he grumbled but he didn’t shrug her off of him. Shit it was just like with Todoroki and his left side, the heat feeling really fucking good and he hated that he liked the other boys touch, his fucking warmth. She smirked up at him, that stupid knowing glint back in her eyes and her hand squeezed gently. “So, can I read your love confessions?”

Katsuki stared down at her, unsure what to actually say to the girl and her fucking weird request. “Why?” asked suspiciously. She shrugged, popping the lolly back into her mouth as she finally let go of him and stepped back slightly. He missed the heat instantly. “Curious what the companions like” she mumbled around the sweet, her eyes flicking over Katsuki to Todoroki then back again. Katsuki just stared at her, eyes wide and mouth open slightly in his shook. He had heard that correctly right? He hadn’t fucking imagined Y/N explicitly voicing her interest in dating Katsuki? Fuck. Shit. What the hell was he supposed to do now?

Ignoring the freak out Katsuki was having Y/N stepped up to the shitty candy canes side, looping her arm through his and tipping her head back to look up at the other teen as she pressed against him. “You’ll let me look at yours, wont you Shoto?” she asked, looking up at him sweetly and fluttering her eyelashes at him. The idiot had gone stiff, looking down at her with wide eyes and a slight look of panic about him. “Yes” he said flatly and Katsuki was convinced that he hadn’t actually heard what she had said, too distracted by the fact she was touching him.

You would think he would have gotten used to it after all these months but he would freak out about it at the oddest times, like he hadn’t really noticed the touching and cuddling before that moment or, if Katsuki was to be more to the point, the half ‘n’ half bastard freaked out when things were a little more on the flirty side. Like now for instance as Y/N pressed her chest against his arm and obscenely pulled the lolly out from between her lips, never braking eye contact with the shitty candy cane. In any other circumstances Katsuki would probably be jealous of the attention Todoroki was getting but he was still stuck on what Y/N had said about her competition for him.

“Come on, we better get to class before Aizawa wakes up”. Y/N stepped back her hand sliding down Todoroki’s and lacing her fingers through his, tugging the other teen forward. He went willingly, his eyes still wide and face flushed such a deep red it almost matched his hair. “Well? You coming blondie?” she called over her shoulder, her smile so fucking bright that Katsuki thought he would go blind.

Grunting Katsuki started after them, glaring down at his feet so he didn’t have to see the two of them holding hands. They disappeared through the door before him, the loud chatter of the class spilling out into the corridor, Y/Ns excited voice getting lost in it. He could hear the idiots getting excited about whatever gifts had been left on their desks and their respective partners expressing their annoyance at them getting things from others. As he stood there that feeling of dread and annoyance bubbled up again except this time there was something else there as well. Excitement? Maybe anticipation? He wanted to see what Y/Ns reaction would be to all the shitty love confessions, wanted to know if she would get jealous of others being interested in him.

A thought struck Katsuki then, one that would probably end badly but he might as well give it a shot. What if he could use these stupid and pathetic love confessions to his advantage? If he could make Y/N jealous enough would she finally make a move? They were her competition after all and maybe if she saw Katsuki showing interest in someone else she might actually stop fucking around with him and the shitty candy cane and actually pick one of them. Preferably him over the half ‘n’ half bastard.

Decided what he was now going to do Katsuki strode into the classroom, head head high and smirking. He didn’t pay anyone any attention, going straight to his desk and the stack of pink and red envelopes he knew would be waiting for him only to come to a stop next to his desk. There were no gaudy envelops, no heart shaped boxes and no excessive amounts of glitter. No all that sat on his desk was a small black box with a red ribbon slipped around it and tied into a bow. Katsuki just stood there in disbelief, staring down at the box like it was about to blow up. Where the hell were they all? There was supposed to be fucking tones of them, not just one measly little fucking box. What the fuck was going on?

He felt Y/N come up beside him, knew it was her from the faint smell of vanilla and the obscene wet sucking noise as she pulled the lollipop out from between her lips. “Huh, seems you’re not as popular as you think”. She smirked up at him, looking far to amused as she popped the lolly back into her mouth, making a show of dragging her tongue across it before sealing her lips around the stick. The action snapped him out of his stupor and Katsuki glared down at her. “Good. Don’t need any of that fucking shit” he growled out, pushing past her and kicking his seat out before dropping down in to it.

Well there went that plan. It had been a stupid one any way. She wouldn’t get jealous over other girls liking him, why would she? Everyone fucking knew he didn’t give a shit about any of that shit, well apart from with Y/N at least. “Aww dude, just one this year?” shitty hair said as he came to stand next to his desk, looking down at the box that still sat untouched and looking at Katsuki as if he was going to start crying about it. Before Katsuki could tell the other teen where to shove it Y/N was talking, chiding the other teen. “Don’t tease. He’s really heartbroken no one else likes his grumpy ass”. She leant forward to playfully slap at Eijiro’s arm before going back to lean against Jiro’s desk, her legs crossed at the ankles and the hand that wasn’t holding that stupid fucking lolly curled around the edge of the desk.

Katsuki glared at her, slumping further in his chair. “No I’m not” he growled out. She just smirked at him, sucking on that fucking lolly and making Katsuki feel hot again. “Aww don’t feel too bad, Todoroki only got one as well” Denki smacked him on the back as he spoke. “I got six this year though the only one that matters is the one my lovely Kyoka gave me…hey!” Katsuki shoved Denki out the way, completely ignoring his indignant cry as he craned his head round to get a look at the candy cane.

He was sat at his desk, Deku and round cheeks stood on either side of him, his brows furrowed in what Katsuki thought was probably confusion as he stared down at an identical black box that sat on top of his desk. “Oh! There the same” Dunce face said loudly and the candy canes gaze snapped up, his mismatched eyes locking with Katsuki’s. They stared at each other for a long few seconds before Katsuki grunted and turned back round to look at his own box once more.

The idiot’s loud declaration seemed to get the whole classes attention, everyone looking between him and the candy cane and the stupid boxes. “Ohh and they look expensive” Ashido came up behind Eijiro, leaning round him and making to grab for the box. Katsuki slapped her hand away as he curled the other around the box and pulled it towards him. “Keep your grubby hands off” Katsuki grumbled, glaring at all his friends as they seemed to huddle closer.

“They are from Le Chocolat De H” Katsuki could just about hear ponytails mater-of-fact words over the annoying babble of his idiot friends talking, the statement followed by a low whistle but fuck if he knew where it came from. “Is that good?” Ashido asked, finally moving back so she could look at Momo. Thankfully the other idiots seemed to go quite, moving away from him enough so that Katsuki was able to see the other girl as well. She leant over from her desk, looking down at Todoroki’s box like she was looking at a piece of evidence in a case. “Yes. There one of the best in Tokyo. It’s where I got Iida’s from”.

“Oh, so they are expensive then?” Katsuki grunted, turning back round in his seat. Dunce face was right. If Momo had gone there to get chocolates for glasses then they were most likely high quality and the price would reflect it. Who the hell would spend that sort of money on him? Not just him but on the half ‘n’ half bastard as well. He had only gotten something this expensive looking once before and that had been the book Y/N had gifted him at Christmas. It seemed like something she would do, spending ridicules amounts of money on something so fucking pointless and insignificant just to make a point.

Frowning he turned his head slightly to look at Y/N. She was still leant against Jiro’s desk, the lolly in her mouth again but her attention was on her phone, her head tilted forward as she tapped across the screen. She wasn’t looking at him or Todoroki and she defiantly didn’t look interested in the conversation going on around her.

Feeling stupid for even hopping that she would have been the one to get them Katsuki turned his attention back to his box. It was glossy, the tear drop logo and name of the company embossed in the bottom right corner. Every other year it had been tacky pink heart shaped boxes filled with ugly and overly sweet chocolates, things that had made Katsuki feel sick just looking at them. But this was high quality, fancy shit so they shouldn’t be like that should they? Fuck he should just dump the whole thing in the bin and get on with his day. Just forget about all of it and try and act like its any normal day.

He glanced over at Y/N again only this time she was looking back. Her head was still tipped forward as if she was looking at the phone in her hands except her eyes were locked on him, a knowing smirk on her lips. She raised an eyebrow at him, the stick of her lolly moving from one side of her mouth to the other. Her eyes seemed to spark with challenge, as if she was daring him to not look at what was inside. He knew then that even though she had seemed to not be paying attention she probably knew more of what was going on in the room than he did.

Before Katsuki really knew he was doing it he was tugging at the ribbon, pulling it free in one quick movement. He wasn’t really paying attention to the rest of the class anymore, focused instead on his task. He dumped the ribbon on the desk and in one quick movement yanked the lid off. The smell of chocolate wafted up from inside the box, along with something sweet and distinctly spicy. He dropped the lid next to the box and looked down at the six small chocolates that sat nestled inside. They were all the same, shiny black domes with flecks of green and orange across them as if they had been flicked with paint. His colours. They were done in his hero colours, either picked out because of that fact or decorated to those specifics.

“Ohhh they look fancy” Ashido said, her pink hand sneaking into his field of vision as she went for one of the confections. Katsuki slapped her hand away again, glaring at her as he snarled out his words. “I already told you to leave off”. He didn’t know why he was being so selfish. Normally he would let the idiots at it, practically chucking the boxes at them but not this one. He knew he was being stupid but some part of him was still hoping that they were from Y/N and if there was even the slightest chance that they were he wasn’t sharing them with no one. She frowned down at him, crossing her arms over her chest and pouting but Katsuki just glared back. He was not above licking every single fucking one of those chocolates if it meant she would stop trying to take one.

“Hey! Todoroki’s are different”. Katsuki’s head snapped round, finding Denki leant over the candy canes desk as he looked down at the other teens open box. Todoroki held it with both hands, the box pulled close to him and almost cradling it protectively as he looked up at the idiot with suspicion and distrust. From here he couldn’t see what the other boy’s chocolates looked like and that just wasn’t acceptable.

Katsuki was up and out of his seat before he knew it, box held firmly in one hand as he stormed up the isle to Todoroki’s desk. He shoved Denki out the way, slamming his own box down on the half ‘n’ half’s desk. “Show me” he growled out, glaring down at the other boy. He tilted his head back so he could look up at Katsuki, his look smoothing out into his normal expressionlessness. His hair had fallen slightly into his eyes, the red and white strands looking soft and not for the first time Katsuki thought about running his hands through it and tucking the strands behind his ears. The blonde quickly squashed the feeling down, sneering at the other boy.

They stared at each other for a second, the class seeming to have gone quiet but finally the other boy sighed, his ridged posture easing as he let his death grip ease and slid the box towards him on the desk. Katsuki looked down at the black box and the six identical chocolates inside. Unlike his they were white with red and blue swirls on top, the brush strokes evident in the chocolate. They were just as shinny as Katsuki’s were, the light gleaming off of the chocolate but unlike Katsuki’s they smelt like mint and sort of earthy.

Katsuki didn’t know what to do now, just staring down at the two boxes next to each other. He didn’t know what he had expected to get out of seeing what the candy canes looked like. Maybe a hint of who their admire might be at least but he wasn’t so lucky. “I wonder who left them” Uraraka wondered, leaning over Todoroki to look at the boxes. “How the hell should I know” Katsuki grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest and glaring at her. She rolled her eyes at him, huffing slightly and Katsuki bristled.

He was just about to tell her where she could shove it when Y/N spoke, her voice ringing clear across the classroom “clearly it’s the same person”. All eyes turned to her and she wasn’t even looking at them, still tapping away on her fucking phone. Katsuki narrowed his eyes at her, anger and jealousy rearing their ugly heads. Who the hell was she talking to? The only people she normally spent any time with were all in this room apart from the zombie freak. That thought had his stomach turning, that today of all days she would be so focused on the other boy instead of him, instead of Todoroki.

What if he had read this all wrong? What if she had given someone chocolates but it had been Shinso fucking Hitoshi instead? Oh god he felt sick and angry, like the fucking walls were closing in around him. Was that why she didn’t seem to care? She had made her choice and it was that fucker? But nothing had seemed to change. They had still woken up together, tangled around one another. Had still spent almost every fucking second together that day. Y/N had still flirted like she couldn’t function without it. Nothing had seemed to change but what if everything was about to?

“What?” she mumbled around her lolly, finally looking up from her phone and taking in all the eyes on her. Sighing she put her phone back in her pocket and pulled the lolly from between her lips. “No way is it a coincidence that you both got chocolates from the same place. They probably got them at the same time,” she waved the lolly between him and Todoroki as she spoke, pushing away from the desk she had been leaning against and walking towards them slowly. She stopped in front of them, leaning back against Tokoyami’s desk and crossing her arms over her chest, a wide smirk on her lips. “Seems you two have the same admirer. Wonder who it could be,” she teased, a knowing glint in her eyes.

Katsuki was about to ask her what the hell she knew but Aizawa chose that moment to sit up, his yellow sleeping bag falling to the floor as he squirmed out of it. “Enough of this rubbish. Everyone in there seats. Now,” he grumbled, stepping out of the sleeping bag and kicking it aside. Everyone move, quickly trying to get to there seats but Katsuki just stood there, watching as Y/N moved so bird boy could sit down. She leant forward, delicate fingers quickly plucking one of each of the chocolates out of the box. She winked at Shoto as she popped the white chocolate into her mouth, moaning softly as she munched on it. Katsuki could feel the candy cane going stiff in his seat the air getting warmer and he hoped that the idiot didn’t burst into flames again. “Matcha and mint, it’s good,” she mumbled, hand held over her mouth as she finished eating. “Yeah,” the idiot whispered, probably not even having heard what she had said.

Laughing she stepped to the side, starting to make her way to her desk but she stopped next to Katsuki, standing way to close to be casual. She was practically pressed up against his side and back and despite all the layers of clothes, Katsuki could still feel her chest pressing against him. He could see out the corner of his eye as she pushed one of his chocolates into her mouth, her lips right next to his ear so he could hear the quiet and sinful moan along with the chocolate cracking as she bit down. “Tastes like you. Caramel and spice,” she whispered, her breath surprisingly cool against his rapidly heating skin. He swallowed nervously, mouth moving but no sound coming out. Her laughter was gentle as she stepped back, her cool fingers dragging along his back as she continued on her way to her desk. Katsuki just stood there like an idiot, still looking down at Todoroki whose face was a bright red.

“Bakugou sit!” Aizawa’s voice rang loud and clear across the classroom and Katsuki snapped his head round to look at his teacher and the rest of the class, finding everyone else already sat down. Feeling himself blush Katsuki quickly grabbed his box of chocolates and stormed back to his seat, looking back behind him briefly at Y/N before dropping down into his seat. She had winked at him, elbows resting on her desk and smile wide and teasing as she slipped that god damned lollypop back into her mouth, her tongue just peeking out to lick at it.

Clenching his jaw, Katsuki made quick work of putting the lid back on the chocolates and shoving the box onto the little shelf under his desk and instead grabbing out his work books. Aizawa began to drone on about what they would be doing that day, how their revisions for their final exams would go and Katsuki tried to listen but every now and then his mind would wonder to the little box under his desk and who had sent it.

The way Y/N had acted had been weird and knowing with a hint of teasing and Katsuki would swear that she had been the one to leave the boxes for him and the candy cane but when? And why would she not tell them? There hadn’t been time for her to come to class this morning and the three of them had been together since leaving class yesterday. Again the only time they split was to get ready for bed, the other two turning up at Katsuki’s door to watch a movie just as he had pulled his sleep pants up. No there had been no time for her to do it and she hadn’t been nowhere near that shitty teleporting first year in the last week to be using his quirk to get around without anyone noticing.

Resting his chin on his palm Katsuki glanced out the window, letting Aizawa’s words wash over him. He felt like he was being played with, goaded into doing something and he didn’t understand why. The thought stayed with him throughout the day as he took notes and reread pages he already knew, all the way to break as the useless idiots he called friends surrounded him, the subject of his and the candy canes admirer still a hot topic.

“No way. She would not be that brave,” Sero chimed in from Katsuki’s side, having slipped into Deku’s vacant seat when he had gone to sit with Todoroki. Katsuki had twisted in his chair, leant back against the wall with one arm flung over the back of his chair and the other resting on his desk. He had one leg up, foot resting on the edge of his seat. Glasses had yelled at him about it but after Katsuki had very politely told him to fuck off ponytail had dragged her angry and spluttering boyfriend away.

“It’s a possibility but I think Sero’s right,” Y/N added, her hand shifting and fingers just brushing against Katsuki’s arm. She had come over just after Denki and Sero had started hounding him about who had sent the chocolates, the girl acting as a buffer so Katsuki didn’t kill his friends when they didn’t shut up. She hadn’t even hesitated to push up onto his desk, her hands splayed out behind her and legs swinging gently. She had lost her blazer at some point, her tie pulled lose and the top button of her shirt open. She looked relaxed, talking about the possible girls who would be interested in both him and Todoroki with a smug sort of amusement. The whole conversation was driving him crazy and the only saving grace was that he could half tune them out whilst he tried to figure out what Y/N was up to.

Katsuki was watching the shitty candy cane, the mismatched teen having moved from his desk to go stand next to round cheeks, Deku stood next to him as the three of them chatted though it was mostly the other two, the half ‘n’ half frowning slightly as he listened to them. Katsuki wondered if he was having to listen to his lot of idiots speculate about who had sent the chocolates as well. Was he actually considering any of the names thrown out or did he think the same as Katsuki, that Y/N had been the one to leave them behind? He had been watching her just as intensely as Katsuki had been watching him so maybe he was trying to figure it all out as well, though if Katsuki couldn’t work it out he highly doubted that oblivious idiot could.

“What if it’s a guy?” Denki said like he had just discovered something truly amazing. Silence hung between them and Katsuki finally dragged his eyes away from Todoroki to look at his friends. Denki was smiling brightly whilst Kirishima and Sero looked at him with a mix of shook and awe, like it was the most obvious thing and they couldn’t believe they hadn’t thought of it. “Shut the fuck up dunce face,” Katsuki growled out, narrowing his eyes at them. Katsuki didn’t have an issue with that kind of thing. He didn’t give a shit if you were into guys, girls or fucking trees. What he had the issue with was that this conversation had gone on far to fucking long for his liking and it needed to stop.

Y/N bit her lip, body shaking as she tried not to laugh, her smile still wide and eyes gleaming with amusement. “You can shut up as well,” he grumbled, hitting the back of his hand against her thigh with a satisfying smack. “Owe” she whined, turning to pout at him as she rubbed at the spot he had hit. “As if that hurt,” he scoffed. She pouted, arms shifting to take more of her weight as she leant in closer. Katsuki froze, eyes going wide the closer she got. She smirked, her face right in front of his, eyes watching him as he began to panic. “You could always kiss it better,” she purred, moving her leg so her thigh brushed against his hand.

Katsuki stuttered, his cheeks going red and his hand heating against her. Kiss her, that’s what she had said but not just her, her thigh. That was, something else. Katsuki had had dreams that started like this, her draped across his desk and skirt ridden up. His hand crackled and popped, his moth flapping as he tried to find the right words but nothing came. Chuckling gently she pulled back, “maybe later hum?” she teased, winking as she sat back round and all Katsuki could do was stare at her dumbly. Kiss. Kiss her. She wanted Katsuki to kiss her. She had never said anything like that to him before, not to Todoroki either as far as he knew. Now the words had been spoken he knew that he wasn’t going to be able to get them out of his head all fucking day.

“At least we know how to shut him up now,” Denki mumbled and Katsuki snapped his mouth shut, head jerking to the side to glare at the other teen at the sudden reminder that he and Y/N were not alone. He leant forward, hand outstretched and crackling with his quirk. “You wanna say that again dunce face and I’ll show you how I’d shut you up,” he growled out. The idiot’s eyes widened, taking a step back and laugh nervously, half tugging Kirishima in front of him for protection. “Lighten up Baku, it was just a joke,” Sero mumbled. “You’re a fucking joke,” Katsuki snapped, leaning back into his chair again and glaring at the other teen. Fucking Y/N and her constant teasing. This was all her fault.

It was then that Katsuki realised Y/N had gone strangely still, her legs no longer swinging and her body going tense. Frowning Katsuki tipped his head back to look at her. She was frowning, eyes narrowed as she stared out across the classroom, her whole body tense and he could see her jaw clenching. She looked pissed, ready to punch someone and when Katsuki turned his head he found out why. Some shitty extra was hovering in the door way, her stupidly big doll like eyes fixed on the candy cane and a heart shaped box clutches to her chest. Katsuki didn’t recognise her but she definitely looked young so he would guess she was a first year. Damn she was either brave or fucking stupid if she was coming to give a third year a shitty Valentine.

She nibbled at her lip, her eyes darting to the floor. The girl sucked in a deep breath and Katsuki could practically see her giving herself a pep talk, her shoulders setting as she looked up with determination, head held high as she stalked purposely towards the half ‘n’ half bastard. Katsuki’s scowl deepened, a strange mix of annoyance and anger filling him as she came to a stop in front of the other teen and he turned away from Deku to look at her in confusion. What the fuck did this shitty little extra think she was doing?

“Todoroki-senpai, please accept these as a representation of my feeling,” she blurted out, thrusting the box of chocolates out towards the candy cane with both hands as she bowed deeply. The whole room had gone quiet, everyone still in the class watching the exchange and waiting to see what he would do. The idiot reached out slowly, a frown pulling his brow down as he took the box from the girl. “Thank you,” he said flatly, mismatched eyes darting down to the obnoxious looking box now in his hands. Katsuki growled lowly, a spike of something dark clawing its way out of his chest. The hell was that shitty bastard think he was doing, accepting shit off other girls when he was supposed to be head over fucking heels for the one currently sat next to Katsuki?

Movement from the corner of his eyes had Katsuki jerking his head to the side just in time to see Y/N pushing herself off his desk, her feet almost soundless as they hit the floor. “Hey are you…” Denki started to say but was cut off by Y/Ns hand slapping against his cheek, his eyes going wide as she dragged her hand across his face as she moved. Her face was cold, eyes dark and fixed on the girl as she silently stalked down the rows of desks towards Todoroki. It reminded Katsuki of one of those big ass cats, stalking it prey, silent and unnoticed till it was too late and it pounced. Katsuki probably shouldn’t find that as hot as he did but he found almost everything about Y/N strangely appealing.

The stupid extra looked up, huge eyes fixed on Todoroki and seemingly not seeing anything else around her. She smiled up at him widely, hands clasped in front of her and battering her lashes at the oblivious idiot. Katsuki though she looked fucking stupid, the amount she was blinking making it look like she had a fucking twitchy eyes or something. “I would also like to know if you would like to have lunch with me tomorrow senpai?” she asked nervously, bitting at her lip and pulling her knees together, one leg slightly bent as she pressed the toes of one foot into the floor. She was blushing, head tipped down slightly and looking up at the taller boy through her lashes. It looked fucking childish and pathetic and Katsuki found it hard to believe that there were idiots out there who liked that pathetic shit.

“Oh shit” Sero mumbled as Y/N came up behind Todoroki, Deku and round cheeks eyes darting towards her worriedly. The whole room felt tense, like every one was waiting for an attack. Katsuki sucked in a breath, leaning forward in his chair slightly to get a better view. He had no clue what she was about to do but he had a sinking feeling that it was probably going to be bad and end up getting not only herself in trouble but him and Todoroki as well because there was no way in hell that neither or the candy cane would jump to her aid.

Todoroki’s frown depended, his head tipping to the side slightly, his moth opening to say what better fucking be a rejection but the mismatched teen didn’t get a chance, Y/N leaping into action before anyone could stop her. “Shoto, there you are,” she beamed, looping her arm through his and pressing in tight against his side. The candy canes mouth snapped shut instantly, his eyes widening slightly as he turned to look down at Y/N who was smiling sweetly up at him. “Yes,” he said flatly and Katsuki would of scoffed if he wasn’t so busy scowling at how fucking clingy Y/N was being.

“Um Todoroki-senpai,” the stupid extra faltered, her big eyes darting uncertainly between the shitty candy cane and Y/N. It was the wrong thing to do because Y/Ns dark eyes snapped to her, her gaze dark and menacing despite the cheery smile and friendly tone. “Oh! Hello I didn’t notice you there. I’m Y/N” she stuck out her hand, offering it to the girl who looked down at it with a mix of nerves and fear. Katsuki didn’t blame her, rumours had spread across the school like wild fire about Y/Ns quirk and any self respecting person would be cautious about touching someone who could steal your quirk with just a touch. To her credit the girl took it, licking at her lips nervously. Maybe she was brave and stupid.

“I’m aaaah!” the girl cried out, yanking her hand back and shaking it, her eyes wide and panicked as she looked up at Y/N who was still smiling though it seemed a little darker now. The girl took a slight step back as she rubbed at her hand that Y/N had just sent a sizeable shock through if the obvious electric crackling around her hand was anything to go by. Katsuki’s frown deepened and he was vaguely aware of Sero and Denki mumbling about the whole thing but he was to focused on the scene before him, body tensing in case he had to jump in and stop a full on fight and over the shitty candy cane of all people.

“Hope I’m not interrupting anything,” Y/N rushed out, not giving the younger girl time to say anything about her blatant attack or making any effort to apologise. “Actually I was…” the girl started hesitantly but Y/N just battled one, completely ignoring the girls words and Katsuki almost felt sorry for her, almost but not quite. “Oh are these from you? How quaint,” she plucked the heart shaped box from Todoroki’s hands, the teen letting them go easily. He hadn’t once looked away from Y/N, his eyes still wide and apparently transfixed by her, completely unaware of what was actually happening.

Without looking away from the girl Y/N dropped the box of chocolates onto round cheeks desk, the box hitting the wood with a loud thump. The girl’s eyes widened slightly before narrowing in anger. Her hands clenched into fists at her side. It seemed Y/N had finally pushed the girl too far. She didn’t seem to care or notice though, leaning into Todoroki’s side even more and her smile curling into a wicked smirk. She resisted her head on his shoulder, the arm that was looped through his slipping down so she could lace their fingers together and placing her free hand over the middle of his chest. It was a possessive gesture and Katsuki felt a small thrum of jealousy at how possessive she was being with the other boy.

“So sorry but Shoto promised to help me go over some notes before our next class so I’m going to have to steal him away. You should head back to your class though, children aren’t supposed to go wondering off with out adult supervision,” Y/N taunted cheerfully, her words dripping with false politeness and the girls mouth flapped like a fish gasping for air, shock and outrage clear in her large eyes. Y/N ignored her, turning on her heels and pulling Shoto along behind her and the idiot went willingly, letting her drag him back to his desk and practically shove him down into his chair.

Y/N pushed herself up onto his desk, sitting the same way she had been on Katsuki’s just moments ago. She smiled smugly at the girl still stood by Uraraka’s desk, clearly feeling good about her triumph. She glared at Y/N, eyes dark and full of rage and to Katsuki’s surprise she winked back, her smile wide and teasing. The girl huffed out angrily before turning and storming from the room, a commotion outside from what must have been the girl’s friends that had been waiting for her.

The whole room stayed silent, all eyes fixed on Y/N who was still smirking, resting back on her hands and swinging her legs gently. Behind her Katsuki could just make out the candy cane, his mismatched eyes still wide and a slight flush on his cheeks. Katsuki would say he might be shell shocked from Y/Ns suddenly territorial behaviour over him but honestly Katsuki wouldn’t be surprised if he didn’t even realise that was actually what had been going on. The boy was shit when it came to that sort of stuff so he probably just thought that she had wanted his attention.

“Holy shit that was brutal” Denki whispered, sounding both amazed and a little horrified and Katsuki had to agree with the statement. Y/N had been rude if not a little cruel to the girl, making it obvious that Todoroki was not available for the taking. It left a bitter taste in his mouth, jealousy rearing its ugly head at the fact that she had been so blatantly obvious with the shitty candy cane.

She clung to both of them, was always touching and welcoming their touch in return. She flirted with them as easily as she breathed, had since the first time they had spoken to her respectively. Katsuki knew she was interested in something with either him or Todoroki but this was the first time he had seen her stake a claim on one of them so openly and in such a way that her jealousy and possessiveness was clear. It left him feeling deflated, passed over even.

Still sat on Todoroki’s desk Y/N leant forward, whispering something in his ear that had him blushing but nodding. Katsuki watched as she slipped off the desk, the other teen pushing his char back slightly and then she was sinking onto his lap, Todoroki wrapping an arm around her waist whilst looking over her shoulder, his expression blank but cheeks a bright red. She leant forward slightly, pulling a text book out from under the desk along with the box of chocolates.

Everyone was still watching them, the whole fucking class watching the sickly sweet moment that Y/N opened that stupid box, plucking one of the chocolates out and holding it out to Todoroki, turning in his lap slightly so she could smile softly at him. Katsuki’s nails dug into the desk, his jaw clenching as he watched the bastard lean forward, eyes locked on hers as he opened his mouth expectantly and she placed it gently on his tongue, fingers ever so slightly brushing against his lips before he closed them and started to chew.

It wasn’t the first, third or even fifth time that Y/N had hand fed one of them but it was normally in private when it was just the three of them but here she was, blatantly flaunting the level of intimacy she had with the half ‘n’ half bastard for all to see. To anyone who didn’t know they would be the picture perfect couple and Katsuki hated how good they looked together, how much he could see the two of them being that sickly sweet and fucking annoyingly affectionate couple that made Katsuki wasn’t to gag. They looked good together, the two of them, without him.

Maybe it was because for almost a year it had been the three of them together that left him feeling left out and shunned suddenly. Katsuki and the candy cane had even become fucking friends now because of how much time they spent together, because of their shared feelings for Y/N and even though Todoroki was his rival for her affections there was still the strange feeling of comradery with the other teen. They worked well together both on and off the field but now it suddenly felt very much like Katsuki or Todoroki and by the way Y/N was being so cosy with the other teen it left Katsuki feeling that she had made a decision at some point and he was left wanting.

The action seemed to spur people to look away, the class breaking out into a gentle chatter as they left Y/N and Todoroki alone to quietly go over the random book she had pulled out, the other boy never letting go of her. “How comes she isn’t like that with you?” Sero said teasingly, leaning forward to nudge at Katsuki’s arm and jarring him out of his staring. “Shut the fuck up soy sauce,” he grumbled turning away from the couple. He turned his back on them, sitting in his chair properly and propping his chin on his hand so he could stare out the window.

Katsuki didn’t know what he was feeling, a weird sort of sadness settling over him but he knew he didn’t like it. He had been so sure it was Y/N who had gifted the little black boxes of chocolates and who knew, maybe she had but apparently he and the candy cane weren’t on as equal footing as he had though.

Fuck he hatted Valentine’s Day and all the shitty things it represented but most of all he hated how he had hoped for something more and had been left disappointed and alone. This day couldn’t be over any quicker even if someone used a quirk to fast forward time.

[galahadwilder]

Kitty Missed the Message, Pt. 2

Part 1

*

"There's thousands of people named 'Adrien' in Paris!" Plagg protests from Adrien's inside shirt pocket. "There's no way she meant you."

"And how many of those Adriens does Ladybug know?" Adrien mumbles, gazing down at the lid on his coffee cup. He sits—no, lies—against the front steps of the school, too tired to even bother trying to keep his back straight. Between the thrill of his new love life and the confusion of her dropping his name, he didn't get any sleep last night; he's allowed to slump a little.

"A lot of them, probably!" Plagg says. "She saves lots of people."

"And how many people has she given a Miraculous to?" Adrien says, gritting his teeth as he contemplates his coffee, then throwing back a sip fast enough to miss his tongue entirely—though it still scalds the back of his throat. He gasps, hacking.

He hates the taste of coffee. Even the burning is better.

"Um," Plagg says, squirming. "Ten?"

"Exactly," Adrien rasps, trying to clear his throat. "They can't all be Adrien. And since she knows Chloé..."

Plagg snuggles grumpily into his chest. "Sometimes I wish you weren't so smart," the Kwami says.

"Too bad you're stuck with me," Adrien says, looking down the street contemplatively. Where is Nino? He's fairly certain he impressed on him the urgency of his dilemma.

As bad as Adrien.

"Am I really that oblivious?" he mutters to himself.

"Well you didn't notice me," Nino says from behind him.

Adrien shrieks, leaping from the steps and stumbling onto the sidewalk, all hackles and hissing. He can feel the pressure on his scalp as his hair tries to stand on end, only to get dragged down by its own weight.

"Dude?" Nino says, shock written across his face.

Adrien looks down at where he flung his coffee, trying to straighten himself without meeting Nino's eyes and hiding the blush burning up his cheeks. "I'm fine!" he yelps. Being a cat is so embarrassing sometimes.

"Dude!" Nino cackles. "I haven't seen you jump like that since the thing with the cucumber!"

"I thought I asked you not to bring that up again," Adrien grumbles, splashing the sole of his foot in his spilled coffee and spreading it dejectedly across the sidewalk. A waste of good caffeine, that is.

Nino’s mouth twists. “Ah. Right,” he says, gently taking Adrien’s forearm. “Sorry, bro.”

”It’s fine,” Adrien says with a slight smile. “I did look like a doof, didn’t I?”

”The doofiest,” Nino says with a nod and a grin. He steps back and folds his arms. “What was so urgent that you needed me at the butt-end of the morning?”

Adrien opens his mouth, closes it again. "I, uh..." he begins. "You... remember that girl I keep saying I like? The one I work with?"

Nino raises an eyebrow. "The one who's not interested in you?"

Adrien's stomach bottoms out. "Yeah," he says. "Or, well. No?” He looks down at his feet, scratching at the back of his neck. How to put this? “It's gotten... weird."

Nino crosses his arms with a wry grin, sinking his weight backward into an uncharacteristically sassy sort of pose, the one he’s been doing more often the more time he spends with Alya. "Weird how?"

Adrien closes his eyes, breathes in, breathes out. "According to her,” he says, picking his thumbnails into his fingers, “yesterday was our one-month anniversary."

Nino’s silence is somehow louder than any words would have been. Adrien opens one eye, wincing, bracing for judgement, only to see confused pride on his friend’s face.

"So... wait," Nino finally says, pushing up his glasses and rubbing his sinuses with his fingers. "Let me—let—” He shakes his head. “You're dating her now?"

Adrien shrugs in distress. "Yes?" he says with another wince. "I'm... it's confusing." He raises his fingers to his lips, the memory of the softness of Ladybug's mouth on his own warming his face. "She... did kiss me last night. Unprompted."

Nino's eyes grow wide. "Dude," he says, holding out his fist. "Dap."

Adrien taps his knuckles against Nino's, still a little too confused to properly appreciate the situation.

“Come on,” Nino says. “Let’s head inside, we can talk while sitting.”

Adrien nods, following without really meaning to move his legs at all.

“So what changed?” Nino says as they walk down the hallway toward their lockers.

“What do you mean?” Adrien says, his eyes wandering. His head still feels a little fuzzy, to be honest.

Nino shrugs. “Well, I mean...” he says, “there’s gotta have been some kind of change, right? That led to her changing her mind?”

The side of Adrien’s mouth twists. “I got nothing,” he mumbles.

Nino turns to stare at him, then snorts and rolls his eyes. “Not surprised,” he says. “You’re not always the best at noticing things like that.”

”That’s... actually why I wanted to talk to you,” Adrien says. “Am I... really that oblivious?”

Nino stops walking and sighs. ”I...” He catches his tongue between his teeth. “You know how pretty much everyone we know has had a crush on Marinette at some point?"

Adrien gives a small smile. “Of course,” he says. That’s pretty much a given.

Nino nods. "Did you ever wonder why she never took anyone up on it until last month?"

"Yeah," Adrien says. "She had a guy she liked, right?"

Nino’s shoulders slump. "Yeah," He says. "You."

Adrien's train of thought comes to a screeching halt. "What?" he says.

Nino reaches out and claps Adrien’s shoulder. “She had a crush on you, dude.”

Adrien blinks. “But, her new boyfriend... wasn’t he the guy?”

Nino snorts. “Nope,” he says. “It was you, bro. And you were the only one who never knew.”

Adrien feels like lightning has been rammed into his skull. As bad as Adrien... it couldn’t be, right?

There’s no way.

*

Class isn’t as difficult as he was expecting. It’s worse. Nino’s words aren’t much to go on—in fact, they’re nothing at all, but it’s the first clue he’s had. So his brain, scrambled from exhaustion and caffeine as it is, can’t stop flitting around Marinette.

First: Kwamibuster. He’d been certain she was Ladybug, all the evidence he’d needed had been there, they were so alike, so brilliant and energetic... and then he’d seen them right next to each other. Different people? Illusion? And then Marinette had suddenly picked up a boyfriend, one who nobody in the class had met, and Adrien had been... so disappointed, but he could never pinpoint why.

When was that, anyway?

Was it a month ago?

He can’t pay any attention to anything that’s happening in front of him—the only thing he can hear is Marinette, Marinette, Marinette. It can’t be her, right? But his brain won’t let it go.

”So, how was your anniversary date?” Alya says with what Adrien can only assume is a sly grin. He can see her exact expression, even though he’s trying desperately not to turn around. Not to let on that he’s listening.

Marinette makes a sound like she’s swallowed her tongue. “Uh! W-weird, actually.”

Alya hums. “Weird how?” He hears the flannel of her shirt slide against the desk as she leans toward Marinette. “How’d the ‘plan’ go?”

Marinette squeaks. Adrien squirms in his seat, staring at his hands, screaming in his head not to turn around. He’s ignoring the way Nino is staring at him, trying to hold still.

”Come on, girl, spill!” Alya whispers. “Did you kiss him?”

”Yep!” Marinette squeaks.

”Oh my god you’re so red!” Alya cackles. Then her voice drops to a hiss. “Tell me everything!”

Marinette swallows. “I mean... it was really weird?” she says. “He... didn’t know we were dating?”

Adrien’s blood rushes to his ears like a vise around his skull, crushing inward. Didn’t know we were dating. That’s—it’s impossible.

Alya snorts. “Girl, are you sure you’re not dating Adrien?”

Adrien doesn’t hear Marinette’s response. He doesn’t hear much of anything until lunchtime, really.

Marinette is Ladybug. He’s going to explode.

*

“Hi, Mari!” he says as soon as she closes her locker.

She shrieks, leaping backward, scattering her papers on the ground, and Adrien immediately feels a rush of guilt at surprising her—but cats are 60% bastard, and he can’t help taking a little joy in it.

Marinette heaves a breath, pressing her hand to her chest. “Adrien!” she gasps. “You’ve gotta stop doing that!”

Adrien feels a grin spread across his face. “Never,” he drawls, leaning a bit into her space. “You’re too much fun to scare.”

Marinette smirks, pressing a finger to his sternum. “Well maybe I’ll just start sneaking up on you.”

Adrien’s heart begins to beat hard in his chest at her touch, at her smile. Oh, it’s her, it’s her, it’s her. And she’s not scared of him anymore, and now he knows exactly why that is...

”Can—can I talk to you?” he gasps out. “In private?”

Marinette’s eyebrows tighten, concern in her eyes. “Everything okay?”

It strikes him through the ribs, the way she cares about him, the way she makes his problems hers, and he knows she deserves the universe. He’s loved her, both of her, since the day they met, and she’s loved both of him, and if she asked him to steal the sun for her he’d burn himself alive snatching it from the sky. “Everything’s fine!” he says, gripping her arm. “Everything’s... great, actually.” He flashes her a smile, his fan’s favorite smile, hoping to put her at ease.

Instead, she tenses. “That’s your fake smile,” she says, her eyes narrowing.

Adrien blinks. “You can tell?” he says.

Marinette’s eyes widen, and her face goes bright red. “I—uh—”

Adrien bites his lip. Right, she’s been in love with him forever—knowing how she is, how the hammer-force of her attention slams down on everything she cares about, she probably noticed everything about him. It’s a wonder she didn’t figure out his identity.

”It’s fine!” he says. “I was just—trying to put you at ease, you know?”

Marinette sets her jaw and nods, glancing around the locker room, cataloguing everyone in the room the way she does when she’s trying to work out a Lucky Charm. “Classroom’s empty?”

Adrien nods. “Classroom.”

*

Marinette sits down on his desk, crossing her legs and leaning forward. “What’s up?”

Adrien looks away, breathes in. “How’s things with your boyfriend?”

Marinette blinks. “Adrien?” she says. There’s a note of... something in her voice. Hope? Anger? Disappointment? Maybe all three. You’re paying attention to me now? it seems to say.

“Last night was your anniversary, right?” Adrien says, looking at her. The pigtails. The eyes, bluer than blue. The earrings he’s only ever seen her take off once—the day Lady Noire showed up instead of Ladybug. Everything about her is the same, even the fire in her eyes.

Marinette’s eyes narrow. “Adrien, if this is about—”

”To be fair, My Lady,” he interrupts, slashing a Chat smile across his face, “you never actually told me we were dating.”

Marinette’s face goes slack, her mouth open, her eyes wide. “I—what?” she whispers. “You... no. No way. You—you can’t...” She straightens, breathing in, gathering herself. “Kitty?” she whispers.

Adrien grins, pressing one arm to his waist and throwing the other out wide with a bow. “Always at your service,” he says.

Suddenly he’s halfway to the floor, falling backwards, Marinette’s tiny hands seizing bunches of his lapels, her lips strawberry-sweet on his. They slam against the ground, together, entwined, gasping, together. Peppering each other with kisses.

“Kitty—”

“My Lady—”

“Princess—”

”Adrien—”

”Marinette—”

”I love you,” he gasps, clutching her chest against his own, and she stiffens.

”I... have been waiting to—to hear you say that... for—for two years,” she stammers.

He presses a kiss to her temple. “I’ve been saying it in private every day,” he says. “And I will say it to you every day for as long as you want it.”

Plagg snorts. “I can confirm,” he says. “Every frickin’ day with this kid. Both identities, too!”

Marinette giggles. “You should hear some of the stuff I said about you,” she says. Then her eyes widen. “Or—maybe not, please don’t—”

Tikki giggles from inside her purse. “I’m telling him anyway!”

Marinette’s eyes shoot to her bag. “Betrayal!” she hisses.

Adrien giggles, and Marinette laughs too, and the two of them just dissolve into laughter. Then, suddenly, Marinette stops.

”Oh,” she says. “Oh, no.”

Adrien blinks. “My Lady?”

Marinette fixes her burning gaze on his eyes. “What are we going to tell Alya?”

[extremelyblackandwhite]

handmaid - 35

PAIRING: mob!sebastian stan x ingenue!reader

WARNINGS: age gap, guns

A/N: once again i am veryyyyyy late but i rly don’t wanna let go of this fanfic. hope you enjoy this chapter x

NEXT CHAPTER

The static sound of silence and the full view of darkness was what she woke up to. She wasn’t sure when she had lost conscience but at the moment the only thing she could see was the flickering light of a single lamp dangling overhead. Sometimes breaking through the silence, the irritating and yet somber noise of single drops of waters hitting the ground would make themselves heard leaving Y/N to feel like she was in imminent danger. As she tried to move, she noticed her ankle was tied to a shackle bolted to the ground which grounded her in the reality she had found herself in. However, instead of screaming or wondering what to do her first instinct was to lay her freed hands on top of her textile covered stomach trying to almost feel for the wellness of life growing inside her. 

Taking a deep breathe, she looked around, trying to understand where she was yet the low light room didn’t give much. However, the existence of a staircase a few inches away from her led her to believe she found herself in a lower floor than regular, maybe some sort of basement. Wherever it was, it was quite clear to the young handmaid it was a hard enough place to escape. The sheer chilliness of the room made her scared enough for her own safety, wondering what plans Mr. Williams had for her and if she would ever return to her life. What she’d give to return to the life she had known, in that sheltered, clueless mindset everyone believed she have. 

She sighed, biting onto her lip so she wouldn’t start crying. Her mind kept rushing, rushing too fast even with the events and stories told to her by the same man who now held her captive. She wondered what all of these years were, they surely weren’t truthful yet unlike lies they were palpable, palpable years of being placed right under everyone, hearing whispers of several other high society people pitying the orphan taken under a powerful’s family’s wing. What good was it to train someone to be submissive for the rest of her life for her safety? It was useless as she was standing idly at the feet of the same man who had brought her mother’s demise. 

All those thoughts did no little to help to tears remain in their ducts and soon, a few of those were rolling down her cheeks hitting the ground along. Along with this, one of her hairpins fell to the ground, the sound removing her from her pitying state. She grabbed it from the floor, looking at the details through the veil of her teary eyes. It was a rather sharp hairpin, she herself had noticed that prior when the hairstylist had stuck it into her hair, lightly scratching her scalp. 

Her eyes moved from the sharp edges to the shackle around her ankle and the key hole just a bit centred in the metal. Shaking like a leaf, she inserted the hairpin into the keyhole, shimmying it enough to cause the lock to give in, freeing her in the process. She found herself dumbfounded with it before quickly getting on her feet and climbing up the stairs to the door. Her hand gripped the door handle and pushed it down, however, the door proved to be locked. She sighed, looking around the room for any exits but there were no windows or any other doors. There was a drawer unit and her most hopeful self hoped there would be maybe a pair of spare keys.

Her hands rushed through the drawers which were mostly empty except the very last drawer where a small razor phone was. She looked around, ensuring her safety before she grabbed the phone with shaky hands, sighing in relief once she noticed one small bar on signal. Y/N quickly pressed the number on the phone, bringing her nails to her mouth as she waited and waited for the recipient to pick up but nothing came out of it. 

     - Please pick up ... I really need your help, I ... - she interrupted herself as she heard steps from above her. Quickly, she stuffed the phone back on drawer, rushing over to the chain which she shackled on her ankle again. 

The door opened rather fast, beams and beams of light streaming through the badly light room which hurt her eyes. Two voices were distinct and her eyes were glued to the door as Mr. Williams walked in with a smug look, however, it wasn’t him that made her heart beat a bit faster, it was Sebastian coming from behind. His pristine ironed suit was completely wrinkled, his tie loose enough to dangle around his neck, heavily wrinkled forehead, a very far cry from the put together man he normally was. 

    - You have a visit, birdie. - he stopped Sebastian from taking any steps further towards her. Ignoring her, Mr. Williams turned to face the mob boss, taking a particular pleasure in seeing him in agony over his own actions. - Told you she was safe. All it takes is just a signature and you can give her a happy ending. 

    - No, before I sign anything you gotta assure me that once you have that document she can go. - Sebastian wasn’t stupid. If there was a spark of his father that lingered in this psyche it was a very analytical and rational thinking, troubleshooting if you’d like to call it. For all he knew, he would sign those papers and Williams would do whatever he pleased with Y/N. The mob boss just couldn’t risk it with her. No, her safety came first. - She leaves, I sign it. 

    - Why should I believe you won’t just back away once she leaves? 

    - You’ll just have to trust me. 

    - You better not play me. Even if she’s out of this room, I have my own ways of making sure she doesn’t leave. - he threw the key towards Sebastian who strutted towards Y/N. Her gown was severely messed, almost a symbol of what he had done to her. It was his fault she was all over this mess, he could’ve protected her, he promised her he would protect her and here she was, shackled to the ground. He could feel his heartbeat pounding against his skull as he uncuffed her, hands still shaking. 

   - You’re gonna run. Okay, angel? You’re gonna run, run as far and fast as you can and you won’t look back, okay? - Y/N’s eyes didn’t seem as worried as he would expect, instead they held this creased look as her hand moved to cup the side of his face, the other hand pushing a piece of his hair away from his forehead. 

   - What about you? - her eyes quickly moved from Williams to Sebastian.

   - Angel, it’ll be okay. You gotta run, okay? Run. - he helped her onto her feet, expecting her to start running the moment she was up. Instead, she stood a few seconds immobile looking at him as her mind told her something bad was coming. She could just feel it, nevertheless the push on her back by Sebastian caused her to start running up the stairs. If only she could get to Dan or Mr. Forrest, they surely could help Sebastian.

Sebastian watched her leave, his heartbeat calming down as he realised she was safe. It didn’t matter what else would happen, she was safe and that was all that matter. Maybe Williams was right, maybe this wasn’t the life for him, a life with her sounded better, a life with her just sounded ... simpler, easier. Just him and her somewhere in a small town starting a family. With that thought in mind, he has handed the document and a black pen, his eyes wondering to the line asking for his signature. It almost seemed to mock him, mock him for not being able to keep a dynasty and her safe. With his gaze away from the paper, he quickly signed it, handing it over to the despicable man.

Mr. Williams smirked out of delight, eyes turning upwards to the door, giving one of his men the sort of look that led some doubt into his mind. This quickly got confirmed as the door was firmly locked, the darkness barely lit by the lamp on the ceiling involving the two of them.

    - You probably don’t remember her mother, you were too young but god ... does she resemble her, those beautiful eyes, exactly the same. Sometimes the universe does give you a second shoot. Maybe I couldn’t be with the mother but I guess the daughter will do just fine. - he raised his arm towards the now ex mob boss, pointing his gun at him. - After all why should I only control one family when I could control two?

   - YOU FUCKING BASTARD! - before he could make any moves towards him, a shot burst through his leg, weakening his stance sending him against the floor. 

   - Did you seriously think I would let you go on and marry her? Get her family support and gain your position back? I didn't peg you for a gullible one but I guess I was wrong. - he chuckled taking another shot to the same leg. - I will take such pleasure in raising your kid. I will raise your child to know just how weak you were, how you never rose up to the challenge. You will cease to exist, gone, just like things should be. 

His mother used to talk to him about death when he was younger, how people just shouldn’t fear it and that when it comes everything is white. Sebastian had to disagree as once another bullet hit him, this time close to his stomach, he didn’t see white, no, he saw her. He saw her, the very first time he saw her on the floor, he saw her eyes peaking from the covers whenever she would sleep near him, her touch, and her laughter. In that moment all he wished was for her to be somehow outside the house, to be safe, far away from all of this. Maybe it was this hope, this conviction that kept him pulling on the single thread belonging to his life. He really hoped she was safe.

   - Drop it. - a feminine voice boomed through the room. Mr. Williams furrowed his eyebrows turning around to a scenario he never expected to experience. Y/N had her arms forward, holding one of his guns and point it at it. - I said, drop it. 

    - Well, well ... - he lowered down sightly, placing the weapon on the floor before putting his hands up. - What are you gonna do, birdie? You’re gonna kill me? 

    - Shut up. - her hands were far from being stiff, shaking with the fear of the situation she was standing in but still firmly holding her revolver. 

    - What are you gonna do, birdie? You’re gonna shot me? For who? Him? Listen to me, Y/N, you and I are the same. We work hard and those above us mistreat us. Join me child, you will have the power you deserve. You won’t serve anyone else, no more hand me downs, no more screaming. 

    - I will not join you, you’re not powerful, you’re a coward. You’ll never be anything other than a coward even if you become the head of the family. You’re a coward, only cowards murder innocent, only cowards are so insecure in their own skin they would crave power. - she lowered her weapon. - I will not be the one to kill you. 

    - Well, isn’t th ... - he was interrupted by a gun shot echoing through the room sending him onto his knees leaving only a very weak Sebastian holding the same revolver he had placed on the ground.

    - She won’t but I will. - she had never seen this side of him. He sounded cruel, cold yet she couldn’t blame it, what she could do was be worried about him as he held a weapon with one hand and the other hand held onto his gashing wound. - I will kill you, slowly, painfully. Before you’re dead, I will make sure all your stupid bastards are dead, all your men are dead, and I will have you front and centre to their deaths. 

    - Y/N .. - the man winced in pain from the gunshot, eyes looking up to the handmaid who had took a few steps back.

    - Don’t you fucking say her name! - he shot him once more, no sign of mercy in his actions. 

    - Sebastian. - she called out to him, effectively gaining his attention. There were no words exchanged, she just looked at him, her lip trembling ... disappointment even. 

There are moments in your life when you can chose to be the villain or the hero of your story. You can either live being the villain or others can tell your story and keep it on. Sebastian looked at her, from her eyes to her hands laying on top of her stomach. No, he wouldn’t be the villain, he wouldn’t be his father. He lowered his weapon, cuffing the man he most despised where he had just had the woman he loved captive.

Once that was done, whatever was left of the adrenaline keeping his wounds from hurting ran out and the pain overtook his muscles, sending him against the ground. Y/N rushed from her standing position, lowering herself to catch him before his head hit the ground. She pulled him over her lap, pushing his hair away from his face. 

   - C’mon, you have to get up. - she spoke softly but he could hear the underlying anxiousness. - You have to get up, we have to get out of here, okay? Just you and me. 

    - No, angel. - he reached to his pocket, her music box still there, and he placed it softly on her hand. - I don’t think I can. You can, you can go, take the next plane out of this place, go to France ...

    - No. - she threw the box away. - You have to get up, you will get up, you’ll come with me to France. Just us, no one else. 

    - You deserve everything you’ve ever dreamed of. 

    - You are my dream. 

tag list: @lilya-petrichor​​​​​​​​ @xoxohannahlee​​​​​​​​ @irespostthingsiwanttoseelater​​​​​​​​ @nikkipea​​​​​​​​ @madisonpillstrom​​​​​​​​ @cevans98​​​​​​​​ @thelostallycat​​​​​​​​ @sideeffectsofyou​​​​​​​​ @anxiousdreamersworld​​​​​​​​ @captainchrisstan​​​​​​​​ @lookiamtrying​​​​​​​​ @sarge-barnes-sir​​​​​​​​ @stuffforreferences​​​​​​​​ @thebadassbitchqueen @sebastianstansqueen​​​​​​​​ @nsfwsebbie​​​​​​​​ @strangerliaa​​​​​​​​ @emzd34​​​​​​​​ @everything-is-awesomesauce​​​​​​​​ @dreams-in-blxck​​​​​​​​ @krismeunicornbaobei @buckysteveloki-me​

[readbyred]

Having a crush on you - TGWDLM

A bit of a longer post I think. And I’ll be switching up the format here

Paul

Everyone and their mother knows

Gets teased for it by Ted

Tries to deny it because of course that's absurd

Finds the DUMBEST excuses as to why he's hanging around you all this time

Tries to impress you and does favours for you

But it's just embarrassing

Laughs at all your jokes and listens to you no matter if he should be working at that time or doing literally anything else

You love in his head rent-free

But despite being a total dork

Ge gets really protective of you too

Not in a possessive way, he respects you too much for that

But when you're working in the office with someone like Ted Spankoffski it does come in handy to have someone back you up when you call your coworker out for being a creep

Other than this he’s just overall a helpful guy

Overdoes it a bit but has good intentions and doesn't want to harass you at work or make you feel uncomfortable

Bill

Very cautious not to let it show

Tries to be professional and doesn't want anyone to know

Cares for you a lot and always checks if you are all right

Values your opinion a lot and often asks for it

If you’re even a bit more tech-savvy you quickly become his go-to person to ask for help

Overall he wants to spend time with you but unless you initiate something he won't make a move

Tells you a lot about Alice too

You’d think Charlotte overshares a ton but Bill beats her by a LOT

Probably doesn't even realise (this man told his best friend a day after his wedding that all marriages are pointless so like)

Tells Paul after work all about you too

Charlotte

A disaster person

Immediately gets attached and wants to be around you

Very affectionate

Laughs at all your jokes no matter how corny they are

If you're comfortable with physical affection you’ll get LOADS of it

Vents to you and asks for advice often

Apologises a ton

Makes you food (like bringing you some cookies and stuff)

Doesn't make a move but throws countless hints

Very desperate for you to like her

Gets blushy easily

Loses all interest in her romances and after a while (she's not very assertive) breaks it off with everyone and overall stops sleeping around

Gets distracted by your mere presence

Is convinced that no one knows but literally everyone does

Emma

Very chill

Keeps it together most of the time

Unintentional long yearning gazes®

Wants to be casual but cares a lot more than she lets on

Overshares about stuff from her work VERY often

Asks you to hang out

Secretly gets very excited when you visit her at work

Only Zoey noticed so far and she will NOT let Emma live it down

Opens up to you

Asks stuff (not too personal) about your life to get to know you better

If she’s more sure of her feelings she’ll drop some hints or even asks you if you want to go out

Uses her classic proposition to get high and see where things go

Henry

Goodness gracious

As soon as he realizes it he gets sO DRAMATIC

If Ted or Emma get tired of his ramblings and ask if he does you

Oh boy I feel bad for them

He gets even more dramatic and talks about his yearning and feelings

And mid-conversation just switches gushing about you

Ted blocked him after Henry called him 3 times at 2:00 in the morning to talk about his feelings

Emma didn't

He causally calls you dear and darling

You are basically invited over like all the time

He’s not the most empathetic person but kind of tries?

Makes obvious self insert stories about you two

Drops MASSIVE hints

But he really likes crushing and all that uncertainty and yEARNING

So if anyone (you included) asks him about his BIZARRE behaviour he’ll just get very mysterious like

Who knows😌😌 human heart💕💕 is so complex🤫💕👉👈 no one may ever know😏😌🤷‍♂️

In reality he’s just very scared to not be alone for the first time in a while

Also he respects you like a lot

Thinks higher of you than others and even if you’d do something wrong he’d just shrug it off and ignore it

Looks at you and sighs heavily at least once a day

Could talk to you for hours with little to no regard for whether you want it or not

But also listens to you

Alice

Also has her own self-insert fics but she’s way less open about it than Henry

Tries to impress you so hard you have no idea

Invites you over to her dad’s place a lot

If you say you’ll be going to an event she will literally sell a kidney to go too

Promises herself NOT to tell Bill about you

But does so anyways

Rants to Deb about you too

Blushes all the time and tries to impress you

Ted

Oh no

He uses all of his TERRIBLY STUPID rules

You thought “Dress to touch breasts” was bad? Ohohoho it gets worse

Also keep in mind that he’s really desperate for you to like him too although he would never admit it even to himself so you can imagine it can get intense,,

He tries to act all cocky and just sleep with you because he thinks he’s irresistible and has a reputation of a sex god to keep up

He does not

At the end of the day he’d just a lonely guy from the office who’s not really close with anyone there and now is pining after a very oblivious (not because you necessarily are but because he’s just very bad at it) colleague

So at some point Paul confronts him after multiple people tell him to because Ted sort of considers him a friend so maybe he’ll get him to get it together

Ted then laughs off the idea that he could be having feelings and Paul leaves resigned

But when it hits him he’s terrified

Remember that this guy had never been in a full on relationship (that we know of at least) and he doesn't want to go through heartbreak twice

So at first he does a 180 and acts like he doesn't care

If he gets to have an upper hand and lose you on purpose it won't hurt right?

Well wrong, you still see each other daily and at this point he’s in deep

So he feels very stuck and he’s also not the nicest person around so go figure how that goes for him

Slowly it just reverts back to him being a horny bastard naturally especially if you go out of your way to hang around him

Maybe with a few instances of being sweet

Because he does care he’s just,, not very good at it

[shadowhuntertrash]

Bad Day

  Matthew woke with a start. He was sweating and shaking and all too aware of his quick breaths. Damn. Matthew thought, shaking his head, trying to shake away the nightmare. He had this dream at least three times a week, most of the time around five. 

   It always started the same, he was at a park with his mother and father. They were having a good day, it was Matthew’s birthday and he had decided he wanted to go outside. They would be sitting there on a bench and then the scene would switch and he’d be at the Shadowmarket with the faerie who sold him the poison.

   The faerie would give him an evil look and then the scene would switch again and he would see Charlotte trembling and sweating in her bed. Tessa was next to her and Charlotte was crying. His father would usher him out and tell him about the child Charlotte was bearing. 

   Then the dream would morph one more time and he would be standing in a room with blood everywhere and Charlotte and Henry sobbing. He would sit there and watch for a minute before Charlotte’s head shot up and she glared at him. “This is your fault! All of this! Look what you’ve done! Get out, leave! I never want to see you again!” Matthew would try to talk to her but before he could say anything she would slap him.

   That’s when he woke up.

   Matthew sat in his bed shaking and running his hand over his face before glancing at the clock. It was six in the morning. He decided to not go back to sleep and got up to go shower. He stood under the hot watch and tried to keep his eyes open, every time they closed he would be back in the room with his parents sobbing and his mother’s face looking at him with disgust and hate. 

   Matthew shook his head again and stepped out of the shower grabbing a towel and drying himself off slowly. He always moved slowly after those dreams. It gave him more time to put on his mask. He always wore it, the happy carefree mask that hid his darkest secrets. 

   Once Matthew was dressed and ready for the day it was eight in the morning. He trudged downstairs and heard voices from the kitchen. “I just don’t know what to do with him Henry.” It was his mother and father. He grimaced and continued walking. “All he does is drink and party. He has to know that he has quite a reputation, mustn't he? I just don’t know what to do.” Matthew froze, were they talking about him?

   “Darling, it’ll be okay. He’ll grow up soon. Don’t you remember Will when he was that age? He was just as bad and he has turned out to be a great man. Matthew will grow up, he just hasn’t had to yet.” Matthew felt a pang in his gut. He always knew his mother looked down on him. How could she not? She was the Consul and he was her problematic son. He knew that she thought lowly of him but his father? 

   That hurt so much more than he ever dreamed. He had always loved his father so much, he would watch over him and help him in any way he could. He was aware that he had a drinking problem and he knew that he had a reputation for partying but surely his father didn’t hate him for that?

  “I know he’ll grow up but he needs to do it soon. I can’t be the Consul with a son like him. Everyone already questions having a woman in the position, but a woman who can’t even control her own son? Everyone looks down on me for it Henry. He needs to stop messing around and step up.” Matthew felt the words hit his heart like daggers. He heard his father sigh. 

   “He will Lottie don’t worry.” Matthew turned on his heel abruptly. After the dream he had he needed to get out. He couldn’t listen to this, not right now.

   He had just gotten in the carriage when Charles stepped in and shoving him over. “Where are you going so early Charles?” Matthew said through clenched teeth. He did not want to deal with Charles right now. Charles huffed and looked at him as if he was nothing but dirt. 

   “I’m going to a meeting as important people do, and what about you? Going to another bloody downworlder party?” Matthew looked away scowling. He wasn’t going to a party, he was going to see James. He knew Charles hated him and thought of him as nothing but it still wasn’t great hearing it from his own mouth.

   “Sod off Charles, I’m going to Jamie’s.” Charles wrinkled his nose. “I do wish you had never befriended him. He’s an awful lot of trouble and honestly you don’t need any help in that department.” Matthew froze all he could see was red. He tried to calm himself down but his brother kept going.

   “The only thing he’s good at is getting into the shadow world and that’s not even on purpose. He doesn’t have his mother’s warlock powers nor does he have his dad’s bravery. He doesn’t even have his parents' charm. He needs to grow up just as much as you do. But then again the worthless ones always find each other don’t they brother.” 

   Matthew couldn’t help himself. He punched Charles in the nose. He heard the sickening crunch when it broke which was accompanied by Charles’ groan as his hand shot up to his face. Charles took his hand away from his face and punched Matthew right back. Matthew felt the pain blooming right under his eye and his only regret was that he was going to have a large bruise. 

   Both boys were fuming and Matthew knew he needed to get out before they did something they would both regret. He stumbled out of the carriage as the driver slowed to see what was going on.

   He started walking to the Institute. It was about a thirty minute walk from his house so he knew he would get a chance to calm down. Today was not his day and all he wanted to do was go see his parabatai. 

   Honestly he would’ve been fine if Charles had just been talking about him but he had never been good at controlling himself when people said bad things about Jamie. Charles seemed to know that and use it every chance he got.

   Matthew put a hand to his eye and winced. It hurt like hell and his head was throbbing. He silently cursed Charles and walked faster. It only took him 20 minutes to get to the Institute and when he walked in there were several shadowhunters in the entryway. Matthew was going to ignore them and go find James but he was distracted when he caught his name.

   “It’s a shame that he’s a bastard child. His parents were so great but it’s common knowledge that Henry can’t have kids and Charlotte wanted more. I mean Gabriel owed Charlotte a lot from when he was younger and have you seen his hideous wife? He would surely need something more than her.” Matthew balled his hands into fists and tried to slow his breathing. 

   “Poor kid no one will want him now. I mean he doesn’t even look like his father and they intend for everyone to believe them?” Matthew was shaking when Will opened the door and ushered the other shadowhunters inside.

   Will spotted him and smiled warmly. “James is in the-” He cut off abruptly and frowned walking over to Matthew quickly. “Math what happened to your face?” He said tilting Matthew’s face up so he could get a better look at his eye. Matthew just shook his head and gave him a charming smile. 

  “Nothing to worry about Mr. Herondale just a little bruise.” Will frowns and shakes his head. “Matthew, I know you aren’t going to talk to me but please tell James how you got that. He’s in the library.” Matthew looked down and nodded with a soft smile. “Yes sir.” 

   Will patted Matthew’s head and walked hesitantly into the room where the rest of the shadowhunters had gathered. Matthew let out his breath and tried to still his trembling form. It didn’t do much so he gave up and walked to the library.

   The library was quiet and Matthew headed over to where he knew James would be. When he got there he climbed on the window seat and put his head in James’ lap. James was reading Great Expectations and the only form of acknowledgement he gave Matthew was readjusting so his book was propped up on Matthew’s head.

   Matthew sighed and let the quiet overtake him. His thoughts went back to his parents as he went over the day again in his head. 

   It was his own fault his parents didn’t like him, his own fault that they wanted him to change. He was a drunk  who was useless at politics who liked to have fun but they didn’t know the half of it. They didn’t know he was a murder who drank to forget. They didn’t know he slept around because he didn’t think he deserved anything better than a one night stand. He could deal with other people hating him because no one hated him more than himself.

   He knew he was a monster. He knew that he had no right to be alive when his sister wasn’t. He wished with all his heart that his sister was here instead of him. If he ever got the chance he would switch their places in a heartbeat. 

   It was times like this that Matthew wished him and Charles were close because maybe he would tell Charles what happened. He didn’t really think he would even if they were close but at least Charles wouldn’t be so awful to him. Maybe then he would protect Matthew from all the cruel words instead of joining in. 

   But only good people deserve good things. That’s why his brother hated him. Because he wasn’t a good person. He was a god awful person and he didn’t understand how anyone could like him. He didn’t understand why James chose to agree to be parabatai. Maybe he did it out of pity or maybe he did it because he didn’t want to have lied to his dad.

   All of his friends were so good, how could any of them want him around. He didn’t deserve the way they treated him. He never had even before everything happened.

   Matthew thought of all the rumors he’d heard, not only about his parentage but about his reputation as well. Many people thought he did it to spite his mother because he didn’t love her. No one knew it was the opposite. No one understood what he did, let alone why he did it. No one cared enough to find out either.

    Matthew was so stuck in his head that he didn’t realize when he started crying. He didn’t respond to James’ anxious questioning either. James ran his hands through Matthew’s hair and repeated his name, a little louder each time.

   By the sixth time James had said it, growing more anxious each time, Matthew had jolted back to reality. He sat up quickly trying to rid of the tears that were flowing but to no avail. Matthew balled his hands into fists and pushed them into his eyes trying to stem the flow of tears forgetting about his bruised eye.

   Matthew gasped and quickly took his hand away. James finally saw his bruised face and gasped as well. “Bloody hell Math, what happened?” He asked frantically kneeling in front of Matthew and holding his hands down with one of his own using his free hand to tilt his chin down so he could see Matthew’s eye.

   Matthew let out a slightly hysterical laugh and shook his head. “You know you’re just like your dad.” Matthew mumbled looking away from James who frowned and pulled out his stele. “Matthew look at me.” Matthew turned his head further away. He couldn’t stop his tears and they were flowing faster now.

   James sighed and brought his chin back so he could look Matthew in his eyes. “Math, what happened?” Matthew shook his head, tears coming impossibly faster. He didn’t deserve James’ concern. He felt a sob in his throat and closed his eyes tightly. He shouldn’t let James see him like this. This was weak; he shouldn’t let anyone’s words get to him. He deserved them anyway.

   James was having none of his silence though and put both his hands on Matthew’s shoulders shaking him gently. “Matthew Fairchild look at me right now.” Matthew opened his eyes hesitantly and saw a fire burning in James’ gold eyes. Golden fire meeting green hills. 

   “Who did that to you.” Matthew broke then. He didn’t bother holding back his tears as he let his head fall on James’ collarbone. James put his arms around Matthew immediately, frowning. Matthew never cried, and when he did it was uncontrollable like this. James rubbed his back and muttered soothing words in his ear.

   “You’re okay, Math. You’re with me in the library. No one else is here, it’s just us. You can talk to me, I’m not going to make you, well I need to know how you got that bruise but I won’t make you talk to me about anything else.” Matthew only sobbed harder at that. James’ frown deepened and he shifted them so he was leaning against the window and Matthew was on his lap straddling him.

   Most people would see this as intimate, and it was, but not in the way other people thought it. This was the best way to calm Matthew down, James knew that better than anyone. Matthew was the kind of person who needed to be touched or held when he was upset and James knew that he felt safe when James held him like this.

   James could feel his shirt getting wet but he didn’t care. All he cared about was what had upset his parabatai so much. He rubbed soothing circles on Matthew’s back and Matthew took stuttering breaths trying to calm himself. James put Matthew’s hand on his back and took exaggerated breaths feeling encouraged as Matthew tried to match them.

   “You’re doing great Math, just breathe.” Matthew nodded against him and a few minutes later he was breathing normally again and the tears had slowed, not stopped, but slowed. James pulled back slightly and rested his forehead against Matthew’s. Matthew’s eyes were still closed but James kept his open trying to read his best friend’s face.

   “Math, can you tell me what happened now?” Matthew let out a bitter laugh. “I punched Charles.” He said, his voice thick from the tears. James looked at Matthew and shook his head. “That’s not what I asked.” James said, slightly confused. Matthew shrugged and moved backwards before settling his head against James’s chest again. “He retaliated.” 

   James felt his eyes widen. “Charles did that?”  He questioned bringing Matthew’s face back up to look at his eye again. It was in the middle of turning black. James scowled and glared at the bruise. “I’ll kill him.” Matthew rolled his eyes and hugged James resting his head on James shoulder. James wrapped his arms around Matthew, pulling him impossibly closer.

  “Did you not hear what I said? I punched him first. I was asking for it.” James made a noise of exasperation. “Okay then what did he do that made you punch him?” Matthew tensed and James started rubbing circles in his back, staying quiet until Matthew relaxed. “He was just talking crap about stuff he knows nothing about.” Matthew said quietly. James sighed, he knew what that meant.

   “You don’t have to protect me from everyone Math. I can protect myself.” Matthew scoffed and shook his head but James could hear the small smile in his voice. “Says the guy who told me he was going to kill my brother.” James rolled his eyes, his own smile playing at his lips. “I’m not the one with a black eye.”

   Matthew laughed softly and tucked his arms into James’ chest. Something James knew he did when he got cold. James pushed Matthew off of him slightly and Matthew pulled away with a poorly masked hurt expression. James grabbed his hand and shook his head.

   “You’re cold, I’m just getting a blanket and we can move to the couch.” Matthew nods standing up walking to the couch. He let’s James sit down first so he can slot himself between James’ legs. James is on his back half propped up on the arm of the couch and Matthew lays down on his stomach propping his chin up on James’ chest.

   James runs his hands through Matthew’s hair again feeling the silky strands. Matthew sighed content for the first time that day. He didn’t understand why James constantly looked after him but he would always appreciate it more than James could ever know. Matthew closes his eyes feeling the calming effect of James running his fingers through Matthew’s hair. 

   Matthew turned so his cheek was on James’ chest. James’ chest was hard but Matthew had always found it comfortable. He’d always considered James his home, his safe place. So this was typically how they ended up when one of them was upset.

   “Hey Math do you feel like talking or do you want to talk about this later? And don’t say later and think we won’t do it because I’ve had enough of giving you space. We need to talk.” James wasn’t looking at him but Matthew felt as if he could see his soul. All his secrets, his heart, his mind.

   Matthew shuddered, he wasn’t ready to tell James his secret. He couldn’t bare to lose his best friend, his soul, his parabatai. Not today.

   “Jamie, do the rumors ever bother you?” James looked down at me in concern but I don’t meet his eyes. “Math is that what this is about?” Matthew shakes his head slowly and raises up again so his chin is resting on James. Matthew looks everywhere but James’ eyes.

   “I just had a long day.” James frowns at him. “Math it’s ten in the morning.” Matthew closes his eyes tightly. “I’m well aware Jamie thank you.” James let out a huff of annoyance. “Okay then tell me about your day.” Matthew starts to shake his head but James groans and cuts him off. “No, you don’t get to deflect or say you don’t want to talk. I’m your parabatai Math, I can tell when something is wrong. Hell I can feel it.”

   Matthew lets out an exasperated sigh. “I’m fine. I just didn’t get much sleep last night.” James frowns, “Nightmares again?” Matthew nods slowly. They had shared a room many times and James was well aware of Matthew’s nightmares. Matthew had told him however, that they had stopped when in reality they had only gotten worse.

   “Okay, what happened after.” James said Matthew is simultaneously glad and annoyed that James knows him well enough to know that wasn’t the only thing that happened.

   “I showered and went to get breakfast but my parents were talking.” James’ eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “About what?” Matthew looked down again his cheeks burning from embarrassment.

   “They were talking about me. My reputation as a drunk partier. They were talking about how I need to grow up. My mother said I’m ruining her career and Jamie they’re right. Don’t.” Matthew said when he saw James open his mouth to protest. James gave him a hard look but stopped talking. “They are right because people already give my mom bloody hell for being a woman and then I ruin it for her further. I make a mess of everything my own parents hate me. I mess up everything and I can’t stop.” 

   James is looking at Matthew with a contemplative expression and stays quiet for a few minutes. Matthew shuffles around a bit, the silence building his anxiety. “Math you don’t really believe that right? You do know that’s not true?” Matthew looked away, frowning and James forced his head back. “Math none of that is true. You have to believe me. None of that is true.” 

   Matthew shook his head sadly and smiled at James. “Jamie I will never stop loving you for seeing the best in people but your being daft. I know I’m your parabatai but it’s okay to agree with them.” James look as if Matthew had struck him across the face.

  “Matthew Fairchild when have I ever led you to believe I thought anything they said was true? Do you believe I should die for being a demon’s grandchild?” James was looking at Matthew furiously and Matthew ducked his head. He was not used to being the target of that look. “James you know I don’t believe that.” James huffed, “Then what in Raziel’s name led you to believe I would?” 

   Matthew furrowed his eyebrows, James wasn’t listening. “Because James you were born this way it’s not something you can change and you constantly prove yourself worthy. James, I do this to myself. Everything they whisper about me aside from me being a bastard child is true. I am a drunk. I do sleep around. Jamie all of that is true.” James flinched and Matthew let out an exasperated sigh. 

   “Jamie I’m not trying to upset you.” Matthew makes a move to get up but James tightens his hold around Matthew’s waist. “Where could you possibly be going Matthew.” James said his golden eyes boring into Matthew’s emerald ones. Matthew sighed and collapsed back onto James too tired to fight. 

   “I’m being a burden so I’m leaving so if you would kindly let me go.” Matthew said, moving to get up again. James frowned and pulled Matthew back to his chest with both arms. “Math please don’t go. We don’t have to talk anymore but please don’t go.” Matthew buried his face in James’ neck in response. 

   They sat like that for a few minutes before Matthew turned his head, pressing his cheek against James’ chest. “Read to me?” Matthew asked quietly, staring at the fire he just realized was burning. James ran his fingers through Matthew’s hair and grabbed his copy of Great Expectations and started reading aloud from where he left off.

   As James read, Matthew found himself nodding off. Right before Matthew lost consciousness he heard James’ gentle voice in his ear as James brushed some hair away that had fallen in his face. “I’ll get you to believe me one day Math I promise. And when you want to talk about why you’re always upset I’ll be here.”

   Matthew fell asleep then, and for the first time in seven days, he didn’t have a single nightmare.

[trustsalvatorewriting]

wasteland, baby! | kol mikaelson - chapter twelve

Summary: Kol makes a deal with the Hollow to revive the first woman he ever loved. Unfortunately, it doesn’t go as planned.

Trust’s Note: Please like and reblog! I hope you enjoy.

Word Count: 2,288

Prologue | Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five | Chapter Six | Chapter Seven | Chapter Eight | Chapter Nine | Chapter Ten

❝ what does one do with life when one expected to be dead ❞

"HOW DOES IT FEEL? To be alive, after all these years." Kol asked, eyes barely meeting Aniya's as they sat on a park bench. They had agreed to spend the day watching for strangers, any person that wouldn't mind having a sprinkle of amnesia in their lives. After a while the silence had gone deafening, and Kol decided to speak.

    Aniya looked back at him, somewhat shocked that he had bothered to ask about her condition. She shifted in her seat. "Truth be told, I do not know what to do with the life I hold in my hands. It's as if someone has handed me the moon."

    "Didn't you ask for this? To be immortal?"

    "No. My father did." She said, looking down at her hands. She and Vihaan had questioned his beliefs once, and only once. It was the day that their father held their hands over a fire, and asked who would save them if not the gods. "And what of you? How did Esther create the spell that turned you into vampires?"

    "She didn't create it. She found it, after Henrik was attacked by the wolves one night." He'd said it so casually, it might have gone over the average person's head; but Aniya had known him all his life. "Mother dearest murdered my ability to practice magic that night. About a decade ago, she stuck me in the body of a witch, but I was promptly killed by Finn shortly thereafter. Such a shame. The body was quite handsome."

    He paused, then added, "Of course, not quite as handsome as me. But it did do the job."

    She lifted an eyebrow slightly. "You would give your immortality to be a witch again?"

    "You may have given your life for immortality, but I never wanted this. I was perfectly fine dying at the fine age of thirty years old," He sent her a smirk, and she rolled her eyes. She turned her attention back to the humans walking in front of them. Across the street, an old man and his wife, wrinkly and discolored, hair the color of salt and pepper.

    "It is a wonder how humans learned to live so long. Perhaps my father wouldn't have forced us to into those rituals if he knew humans could become so... weathered."

    Kol laughed then, and Aniya found herself smiling at the newspaper Kol had set down on their laps. After a moment, he asked, "You truly can't read?"

    "I've learned a bit," She admitted. Henry had helped her, using a few pictures books he'd created and never published. Elijah had repeatedly offered her private tutors, but the situation had never been ideal. Even compelled humans would ask questions eventually, and there was something discomforting about allowing a stranger to see her weaknesses. She'd been a gifted witch once, a prodigy; and she had lost to something as simple as American tongue. "I do miss runes though."

    "You'd be the only one," Kol responded. She narrowed his eyes at him in annoyance, and he simply shot her a smile. He turned his attention to the humans. "So, we've sat here long enough. Who will we put out of their misery and erase twenty years worth of memories?"

    "How about one of the weathered ones?" She suggested. "They've been alive quite long. Surely they won't miss a decade or two."

    Aniya had given eighteen years of her life to a set of rituals. Given her life for the sake of her parents. A few memories in exchange for a taste of her old life -- it was a small price to pay. Regardless, humans were never meant to live so long. They were in pain now, surely. Growing weak and inching closer to Death with each passing moment. To walk the streets and see the youth, see all they had lost.

    Perhaps she would be putting them out of their misery. Granting them the ability to forget all they would never have again.

    She stood from the bench and made her way towards an elderly man only a few feet away. Kol leaned back and watched the girl smile brightly, encapsulating the man in a short conversation about passing birds.

    "I can't remember the last time I'd seen a creature so beautiful." She knelt down, though the bird hopped a few steps away. Her brown eyes dimmed for a moment, and Kol felt a heavy weight on his chest as he watched the little bird move away from her. As if it were repulsed.

    "Yes," the old man nodded in agreement. His voice was aged, in a way that even Kol found himself pitying him. "Your generation is so glued to those phones. Rarely even feed the birds anymore."

    "My generation," Aniya squinted her eyes. She was very much his elder, and Henry had tried to show her how to use a phone only a few days ago. Unfortunately, the very concept had gone over her head. "Yes. I agree. My brother, though, he used to care dearly for these creatures. Often found him climbing trees and feeding them leftover scraps."

    She spoke fondly of her brother. It was hard not to. No one had a heart quite as big as his. No one dared to. The world was never made for one as beautiful as him, and yet there she stood, desperate to gain her strength and revive him.

    "What was his name?"

    Aniya hesitated. Her mother had always said names carried power. "Victor. My name is Annie."

    "It suits you," He commented. The man's blue eyes sparkled with kindness, and she felt her stomach drop. "I hope he takes care of you."

    "You needn't worry. My brother was quite the protector," She shrugged off his comment, eyes quickly shifting to the street in front of her. She pushed herself off the ground and focused her eyes on a nearby lamppost. "And what of you? Do you have family? People that care for you?"

    "My wife, Betty. She cared dearly for me," The old man chuckled. He pulled out a small leather rectangle, and Aniya lifted an eyebrow at the gesture. Carefully, he unfolded it and revealed a black and white photo of a young couple. A blonde woman with molded curls and a young man beside him, in a perfectly tailored suit.

    The man slipped the photo out and turned it around. At the bottom right corner was a jumble of letters. Aniya leaned forward to see the lettering, and after a few moments, the man said, "Betty and Edwin. Our wedding in the fifties."

    Aniya's faced soured and she looked away, as if she'd just tasted something terrible. From across the street, Kol lifted an eyebrow. She took a breath.  "Where is she now?"

    "Died of long cancer twenty years ago. I miss her everyday." He said, his voice tainted with nostalgia. Aniya bit the inside of her cheek, a pit in her chest crawling up her throat. Edwin carefully tucked the photo back into his wallet.

    "And you love her to this day? Your love for her, it never died?"

    "In my experience, love never dies."

    "How do you love someone you're sure you'll never have again? How can you bring yourself to love something so unbearable?" Surely he would give in. Surely he could bring himself to forget her. How much she would give in return for amnesia. In another world, she might've belonged to Henry and Henry alone.

    Edwin shrugged. "I'll see her again. It's only a matter of time."

    It was then that she felt something snap. A switch in her mind, flipped, and exchanged for something much colder. Ice rushed through her veins as she stared at the man, and her mind was made up.

    Kol would one day see his Davina once more. Edwin would see Betty, and the world would continue to spin, as she stood paralyzed and alone. Even Henry would leave her eventually. She had only one insurance, one promise that would never leave her: Vihaan.

    "I truly am sorry." Aniya placed a hand on the man's shoulder and whispered a spell beneath her breath. The man's eyes glazed over, and static ran through her veins. She took a step back and raised an eyebrow, ignoring the sense of euphoria that overwhelmed her. "Raise your left hand."

    He obliged.

    "Drop it. Raise your right hand."

    He obliged. She had control of him.

    "Give me your wallet. Go to Lafayette Cemetary and ask for Keres." The man, stripped of his willpower and sense of self-control, handed her the small leather object and walked away in a daze. Aniya swallowed and shoved the rectangle into her pocket. To her left, she felt a slight breeze, and Kol stood by her side.

    Kol watched the man wander away, a brow lifted as Aniya gulped. "You hesitated."

"I'm ripping away an innocent man's free will because we made the mistake of getting married. My apologies if I'm not all that ecstatic about our situation," Aniya muttered. She huffed, shutting her eyes tightly as she turned on her heel.

"Well, lucky for you, we only need two more. I found a poor bastard in the cemetery last night. I'm sure no one will notice he's gone," Kol announces proudly, hot on Aniya's trail as she walked away from him.

"We shouldn't be preying on the innocent, Kol. Especially not men who are mourning their loved ones!"

Kol huffed and sped in front of her, raising his hands to stop her from crossing him. She sent him a warning look, and he sighed. "This one deserves death. Trust me."

She had been given no reason to trust him. In the weeks since she had come back, not once had Kol given her proof that he was worthy of it. Frankly, he's gone lengths to prove the opposite; but somehow, as she stared into his aged, tired eyes, she found herself wanting to believe him.

And so, she nodded, for once giving into his antics. "All right. I suppose we'll just have to find a few more and send them to Keres. I'm sure it won't be that much trouble."

    Regardless, she couldn't seem to ignore the heaviness of her chest — the guilt she carried, knowing she had just sent a man to be stripped of his free will. Her parents had tried desperately to rip her of these emotions, trained her to see human lives as game pieces. Ones that she would have to dispose of once they no longer suited her. Her father had told her to embrace the electricity that ran through her veins when she practiced dark magic, but what was meant to surge of power had become nothing but a parasite. This power had turned her into nothing but a monster.

    "Kol?"

    "Yes?"

    "What did your siblings and father exchange for immortality?"

    He stopped walking then, his feet glued to the sidewalk. For a moment, his amusement faded, but it was quickly hidden away with a smirk. It occurred to Aniya that she might have hit a nerve. "I'm a vampire, darling. Haven't you caught up on the mythology yet? Watched a few scenes from Twilight? I've heard Robert Pattinson is quite dashing."

    "Well, yes, but I'd like to see the truth. I'm not sure how much of that I'm going to find in pop culture." She crossed her arms over her chest and took a step toward him, looking up at his aged, tired eyes. "Show me."

    "You're a stubborn little thing, aren't you," He murmured. He sighed then, leaning back against a nearby lamppost.  Aniya came closer as he shut his eyes, and black veins crawled from beneath his eyes down to his cheeks. His eyes opened, revealing a pair of blackened irises and red, irritated scieras. Kol bared his teeth, displaying his sharpened fangs. When Aniya didn't flinch, the monstrous features crawled back into hiding, and Kol's curious face remained.

    Then, she smiled, almost satisfied with her discovery.

    "Was there any particular reason you wanted to see that, or were you just exhausted from staring at my gorgeous face for so long?"

    "Is this typically how you flirt with women in the twenty-first century?"

    Kol shrugged then, straightening his back and heading back in the direction of the Abattoir. Jealousy seemed to spike at Aniya's chest, as she walked a few paces behind him. How wonderful it must have been to be loved by something that hates all else. To be loved by what was perceived to be a monster.

   She pulled the wallet out of her pocket, running her fingers over the faded photograph. She wondered to herself what might have happened if the Hollow has awoken Vihaan, as opposed to her. He might have been stronger. More willing to sacrifice the lives of several humans in exchange for the life he once had; but then, she wondered if he would have been more willing to give up on a marriage that had so clearly died. He would have been willing to sacrifice it all to ensure that she was back on Earth.

    "I'd like to have this mission finished by the end of the night," Aniya revealed, her fingers tugging at the ring around her neck. "We'll find the nearest elderly person, and send them to the cemetery. You'll have your memories returned by midnight, and I'll have the evening to myself."

    "You're going to see your human."

    "Is that so bad?"

    He hesitated. "I suppose not."