#i did the drains. i cleaned the kitchen walls. the kitchen door. the wall behind drinks. the drink station. the food area. i did the lobby.

[a-lexia11]

Ungrateful

Leah Williamson x reader

Warning: angst,Leah’s ACL

Words count: around 5k

Every morning began before dawn. I would slip out of bed quietly, so as not to disturb Leah, who slept on the bed with her leg propped up on a mound of pillows.

Her ACL tear in April had left her unable to walk, and the crutches leaned against the wall seemed like a cruel reminder of her helplessness.

I started my day by preparing breakfast—Leah’s favorite scrambled eggs with crispy bacon and freshly squeezed orange juice. I wanted everything to be perfect, hoping that my efforts might bring her a little comfort during this difficult time.

Leah had always been strong and driven, but seeing her struggle with something as basic as moving around was heart-wrenching. Despite my exhaustion from training, I did everything with a smile, determined to make her recovery as comfortable as possible.

The routine was a blur of laundry, cleaning, and cooking. Leah’s clothes seemed to accumulate in heaps, and each evening, after an intense training session, I would come home to find more mess—dirty dishes piled in the sink, crumbs scattered on the coffee table, and wrappers strewn across the floor. I would clean up, even though I was physically and mentally drained.

——

One evening, after another grueling training session, I walked into the kitchen to find Leah sitting at the table, tapping away on her phone.

The kitchen was a disaster—crumbs from her snack littered the counter, and empty food containers were haphazardly thrown aside.

“Hey, what’s for dinner?” Leah’s voice cut through the silence.

“Chicken stir-fry,” I replied, trying to keep my tone upbeat despite my fatigue.

Leah barely glanced up. “Make sure it’s not too spicy. You know how I don’t handle spice well.”

I forced a smile and started cooking. As I chopped vegetables, I glanced around at the mess Leah had left behind.

The crutches were lying in the middle of the floor, making it difficult to navigate around the room. I took a deep breath and focused on making the meal as perfect as possible.

When I finally brought the food to the table, Leah was still engrossed in her phone. “Finally,you took your time, I’m starving,” she said, barely looking up.

I put the plates down with a clatter, trying to mask my frustration. “I’m doing my best, Leah. I’ve been working hard too.”

Leah’s eyes flicked up, and she gave me an annoyed look. “Well, maybe if you weren’t so busy complaining, you’d actually be able to get things done faster.”

Her words cut deep. I was trying my best to support her, and it felt like all my efforts were being ignored. “I’m not complaining,” I said, struggling to keep my voice steady. “I’m just saying it’s been hard for me too.”

Leah’s irritation flared. “If you can’t handle it, maybe you should just leave.”

The words hit me like a physical blow. I felt my tears welling up, but I refused to let them show. “Maybe I will,” I said, my voice trembling with hurt and anger.

Without waiting for a response, I walked out of the room, slamming the door behind me.

I took refuge in the bathroom, the cold tiles offering no comfort as I sank to the floor. I turned on the shower, letting the hot water cascade down.

The steam enveloped me, and I let the tears fall freely. The bathroom, normally a sanctuary, became a place of silent suffering. The sound of the running water masked my sobs, allowing me to cry without Leah hearing.

My heart ached with the weight of feeling unappreciated and used, and I felt utterly alone despite my attempts to be there for her.

——

A few days later, Leah’s attitude showed no sign of improvement. One afternoon, as I was organizing the laundry, Leah called from the living room. “Can you get me that book from the shelf? I’m too tired to reach it.”

I was in the middle of sorting through a mountain of her clothes, but I walked over to the bookshelf and retrieved the book. When I handed it to Leah, she barely acknowledged me. “Finally,” she muttered.

That evening, as I was cooking dinner, Leah’s frustration with her recovery seemed to be taking a toll on her mood. I found her snapping at me again. “Why does this food always seem so bland?” she complained, poking at her plate with a fork.

I tried to ignore the sting of her words. “I followed the recipe, and that’s what you like but maybe your taste buds are just off because of the medication you taking for the pain”

Leah rolled her eyes. “Or maybe you just don’t know how to cook properly.”

I could feel the frustration bubbling up inside me, but I kept my composure. “I’ll try to make something else.”

The next day, Leah’s demands escalated. I came home to find the apartment in disarray. The crutches were strewn across the hallway, and the living room was cluttered with Leah’s belongings. I set to work cleaning up, but Leah’s voice interrupted me.

“Can you fix the TV? The remote isn’t working, and I can’t watch anything.”

I sighed, setting aside the cleaning to troubleshoot the issue. It turned out to be a simple problem with the batteries, but Leah’s impatient tone made it feel like a monumental task. “It’s fixed now,” I said, handing her the remote with a forced smile.

“Finally,” Leah replied, barely looking up from the screen. “I was getting so bored.”

As days went by, the emotional toll of Leah’s ungratefulness became increasingly apparent.

One evening, after I had cooked dinner, Leah complained again. “I don’t understand why we’re always eating the same things. Can’t you make something different for once?”

My heart sank. I had tried to make meals that suited her taste and dietary needs, but it felt like nothing was ever good enough.It’s always the same… always complaining about food.

——

One night, Leah’s frustration with her recovery came to a head once again. We were sitting in the living room, and I was trying to relax after a long day. Leah, however, was in a foul mood. She snapped at me over something trivial—my supposed failure to fold her blankets properly.

“This is so sloppy,” she said, throwing the blanket aside. “Can’t you do anything right?”

That was the breaking point. I stood up, my hands trembling with anger. “You know what, Leah? I’m doing everything I can for you. I cook your meals, clean up after you, and try to make things as comfortable as possible. And all I get in return is criticism. I’m not your servant. I’m your girlfriend.”

Leah looked shocked. “You think I’m not grateful? I’m just tired of being stuck here. It’s frustrating!”

“Well, guess what? I’m tired too,” I shot back, tears of frustration blurring my vision. “I’m tired of feeling like my efforts don’t matter. I’m tired of being constantly berated. I’m doing everything I can, but it’s never enough for you!”

Leah’s face flushed with frustration. “It’s not about you not doing enough! It’s about me being stuck here and feeling helpless. I’m taking it out on you because I don’t know how to handle it!”

“Then maybe you should try expressing your feelings differently,” I snapped. “Instead of making me feel like I’m failing you, maybe you should appreciate what I’m doing. I’m doing my best!”

Leah stood up, her voice rising. “You don’t get it! You have no idea what it’s like to be so dependent on someone else, to feel like you’re losing your independence. I’m frustrated, and I’m taking it out on you because you’re the only one here!”

“And I’m supposed to just take it?” I shouted back. “I’m not a punching bag! I’m trying to help, and it’s hurting me to feel like I’m not appreciated!”

The argument left us both drained, standing in the middle of the living room, our faces flushed with anger and hurt. Leah’s eyes were filled with tears, and my heart was pounding with the weight of our confrontation.

I stormed out of the room, needing space to collect my thoughts. Leah slumped onto the couch, her face buried in her hands, and the silence that followed was heavy with unspoken pain.

——

In the following days, Leah seemed to realize the gravity of her actions. One evening, she made a concerted effort to mend things. She spent the entire day planning a surprise for me.

I came home to find the living room transformed into a romantic setting—candles flickering softly, a table set with care, and gentle music playing in the background. Leah, looking nervous but determined, had prepared dinner herself.

When I walked in, I was taken aback. Leah greeted me with a tentative smile. “Hey,” she said softly. “I wanted to apologize for everything. I know I’ve been ungrateful and difficult. I’ve been thinking a lot about what you’ve done for me, and I’m really sorry.”

I sat down at the table, touched by the effort she had put into this gesture. The meal wasn’t perfect—there were a few burned edges and unevenly cooked parts—but the sentiment was clear. Leah had tried, and that meant more to me than any grand gesture.

As we ate, the silence was thick with unspoken words. Finally, Leah broke it. “I’ve been reflecting on how I’ve treated you. I want to be better. I want to show you how much I appreciate you. You’ve been my rock through all of this, and I’ve taken that for granted”.”

My eyes filled with tears, not just from the pain but from the relief of hearing Leah’s sincere apology.

“Thank you, Leah. It’s been hard for me to feel like my efforts aren’t valued. I just want us to be able to support each other, not tear each other down.”

Leah reached across the table, her hand finding mine. “I promise to do better. I want to be the girlfriend you deserve, not someone who just takes from you.”

The sincerity in Leah’s eyes and her commitment to change melted some of the ice that had formed around my heart.

We spent the rest of the evening talking about our feelings, our hopes, and how we could improve our relationship. It was a difficult conversation, but it was necessary.

Leah made a conscious effort to be more considerate and appreciative in the days that followed. She started taking on small tasks within her limited mobility and expressed gratitude for everything I did.

Though there were still moments of tension and frustration, we were learning how to communicate better and support each other more effectively.

I knew that the road to healing wouldn’t be smooth, and there would be setbacks. But for the first time in a long while, I felt hopeful.

Leah’s effort to make amends showed that she was committed to changing our dynamic. And for me, that was the first step toward rebuilding the trust and love that had been strained.

FIN

[hjparisian]

always yours-harry j potter x reader

p: harry j potter x fem! reader w: TW !!! toxic relationship, abuse, fluff ending, cussing, not proof read summary: harry and (y/n) come across each other a bit after the war and reconnect. a/n: another request from a lovely follower! so sorry this is so late. i haven't had motivation to write and couldn't figure out what to even write. if any of you guys are in an abusive relationship, please try to reach out to someone! i know it's better said than done but you all deserve the best.

The light breeze felt perfect to (Y/N). It was her day off of work from the Ministry today, so (Y/N) decided to use this day for herself to relax. Merlin knows that her work and her boyfriend has her feeling drained.

(Y/N) had just exited Flourish and Blotts, nose in one of the new books she bought. Her focus was disrupted when she bumped into a large figure, making her drop her book.

"Oh my goodness, I'm so sorry, I should've been looking where I was going," (Y/N) said to the person as she went to pick up her book but someone else grabbed it first.

"Oh it's alright, no worries," a familiar voice said to her.

(Y/N) looked up to the person handing her her book back.

"Wait, H-Harry?"

"(Y/N)?"

The girl was in shock. In front of her was her old friend and former crush, Harry Potter. The last time they've seen each other was at the Battle of Hogwarts. Though she had returned to Hogwarts for her eighth year, Harry did not.

"What are you doing here?" (Y/N) asked the man.

"I was just grabbing some stuff for school."

"School?"

"Yeah," Harry said. "I'm teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts at Hogwarts."

"That's amazing Harry!" (Y/N) said to him. "I mean you were the best at the class. Plus you were such an amazing teacher when you taught Dumbledore's Army so it doesn't surprise me."

"Thanks, (Y/N). And what are you doing?"

"Oh, I just came from Flourish and Blotts. It's my day off from the Ministry and I was looking for new books."

"Well," Harry says. "What else do you have planned for today?"

"Honestly, nothing else."

"Do you want to come over to my place?" Harry asked her. "I mean, you don't have to if you don't want to. I was just hoping we could catch up maybe?"

"I would love to," (Y/N) said without a second thought.

Harry and (Y/N) exited the Leaky Cauldron and apparated to Harry's place. It was an apartment not too far from London. Harry unlocked the door and let (Y/N) enter.

It was a rather simple but clean apartment. There were a couple photos on the walls from Harry's years at Hogwarts. One that caught (Y/N)'s eye was a picture of Dumbledore's Army during their fifth year. Harry was in the middle of the photo and (Y/N) somehow had a spot right next to Harry.

"Bring back memories, huh?" Harry said as he stood behind her.

"Yeah. I still remember the first meeting." (Y/N) said. "I wanted to punch Zacharias in the face."

Harry laughed at your comment. "Me too, but he did come around."

Harry guided (Y/N) to the couch in his living room.

"Did you want anything to drink?" Harry asked her. "I got water, butterbeer, firewhiskey."

"Some butterbeer please."

Harry left to the kitchen and returned with two bottles of butter beer, handing one to (Y/N).

"So, how are Hermione and Ron?"

"They're good. They got engaged recently."

"Really?" (Y/N) said in awe. "That's wonderful! I remember talking with Hermione about Ron back in sixth year. Finally got her to admit her feelings for him."

Harry nodded his head, grinning at the memories. "They were both too stubborn to realize it."

(Y/N) nodded before taking a sip of the butterbeer. "What about you Harry? You were with Ginny last I heard."

"I was but not anymore." (Y/N) had a shocked look on her face. "We broke up a while back."

"Really? And Ron hasn't killed you?" (Y/N) asked.

Harry chuckled a bit. "It was actually Ginny who ended it. It was mutual so no bad blood between us."

"That's good then."

A question had been burning on the back of Harry's mind. Thankfully, they were on the topic of it.

"What about you? Are you with anyone?"

(Y/N) set down the bottle she was holding before she answered. "I am actually."

Harry felt his heart drop a bit. "Who is it?"

(Y/N) started messing with the hem of her top, feeling a bit nervous. "Do you remember Cormac McLaggen? He tried out for keeper our sixth year."

For some reason, Harry felt his heart crumble a bit. That bloke Cormac is with (Y/N)? Those two couldn't be anymore different. How could that troll earn her love?

"Harry?"

(Y/N)'s voice snapped him out of his thoughts.

"Are you alright Harry? You were zoning out a bit," (Y/N) pointed out.

"Oh, yeah I'm fine. I remember him, bit of a jerk from what I remember in sixth year." Harry said. "Is Cormac good to you?"

(Y/N) avoided eye contact and kept messing with her shirt. "Oh yeah. I mean we have a few arguments here and there, but he means well. Do you mind bringing another bottle of butterbeer please?"

Harry nodded before getting up to the kitchen again. He didn't necessarily believe (Y/N), but he wasn't going to prod on their relationship.

The two had been enjoying reconnecting. Harry told (Y/N) stories from his first year teaching at Hogwarts, one including how a third year girl sent him a singing card on Valentine's Day. (Y/N) also told Harry about her job at the Ministry and how her coworker spilt coffee on Kingsley Shacklebolt's robes.

(Y/N) looked at the clock on the nearby wall to see that it was a quarter past twelve am. She couldn't believe that she's been talking to Harry for this long. She had to get home.

"Hey Harry, I have to get going," (Y/N) told the man sitting next to her.

Harry looked at the clock to also see how late it was. "Oh, sorry. I didn't realize the time."

"It's quite alright Harry, I had a wonderful time with you anyways."

"Will you be apparating home?" Harry asks her. "Don't want you to head home by yourself if you aren't."

"Yes, I am. You don't need to worry," she said to him. "Besides, I know a few spells thanks to a certain Gryffindor."

Harry smiled a bit, knowing she was referring to him.

"I'll see you later Harry," (Y/N) said while handing him a paper.

The girl disapperated, returning to her home.

Harry unfolded the paper, which revealed some numbers. It was (Y/N)'s phone number. Right under it, she left a small message.

Call me! :)

The next morning, (Y/N) woke up to hearing noises coming from the kitchen. She put on a sweater and walked out to find her boyfriend Cormac cooking.

"Good morning," he said to her.

"Morning," she said.

"Thought I'd make us breakfast before you go to work," said Cormac. "Also where were you last night? You got home pretty late."

"I was catching up with an old friend."

Cormac hummed before asking her the dreaded question. "Who?"

"Oh it's no one special," she nervously said.

Cormac raised an eyebrow at her before asking again. "Who were you with, (Y/N)?"

(Y/N) cleared her throat before speaking. "Harry."

"Potter?"

"Yeah him."

(Y/N) looked at her boyfriend, seeing a look of resentment in his eyes.

"I never really liked that bloke." Cormac said while handing (Y/N) her plate. "Gave the keeper spot to Weasley just because that's his best friend."

(Y/N) just nodded, not wanting to say anything to make Cormac upset.

The two ate until (Y/N) had to go to work. While heading to work, (Y/N) felt her phone buzz. She saw it was a number she didn't recognize, but the back of her mind was hoping it was a certain boy.

(Y/N) took chance and answered it. "Hello?"

"Hello?" A familiar voice said. "Is this (Y/N)?"

(Y/N) laughed a bit before responding. "Yes it is."

"Oh good. It's Harry."

"I know," (Y/N) said, smiling. "I recognized your voice."

"Ah yeah," Harry said. "How are you?"

"Good. Just heading to work."

"Oh I'm sorry, I didn't realize. I can call later."

(Y/N) felt herself smiling more.

"No it's alright! I have time. Besides, it makes the travel to work less lonely."

And so began a new routine of Harry calling her on her way to work. Which then went into them calling each other after work. On nights Cormac was away, Harry and (Y/N) would call each other.

Harry and (Y/N) began seeing each other more in person too. He'd join her on trips to Diagon Alley for more books or to grab a bite after a long day of work.

This change did not go by unnoticed by Cormac, though. He noticed how distracted she became, how she smiled at her phone more, how she left for work earlier and came back later, how she'd go out more.

The boy had enough.

One day, when (Y/N) had returned from work late, Cormac was sitting in her living room, waiting for her arrival.

"Oh! Didn't know you were here Cormac, I thought you wouldn't get home 'til later," the girl said upon noticing her boyfriend on her couch.

"Where were you?" The boy asked her.

Cormac had gotten up and walked towards her, glaring at her.

(Y/N) had begun to feel a bit nervous, knowing Cormac wouldn't like the reason she had returned late.

"I-I was at work," (Y/N) stammered out.

"What about after work?" Cormac questioned her. "Where did you go?"

"Just went to grab a bite."

Cormac began pestering her. "With who? You had to have been with someone if you've taken this long."

(Y/N) felt herself starting to shake. She had never enjoyed when Cormac began to act like this, knowing he was getting angry and a bit emotional.

"I was just out with a friend," she meekly said.

"I wanna know who you were with (Y/N)."

"It was just a friend, Cormac."

"Don't bullshit me. Was it with Potter?"

(Y/N)'s hesitation was all Cormac needed to get his answer.

"It was with Potter, wasn't it."

(Y/N) couldn't lie to him, knowing he figured her out. She nodded.

"Yes, but he's just a friend."

Cormac laughed at her. "Oh really, (Y/N)? Doesn't look like it to me. All those days you came home late, were on the phone for hours. Probably all with fucking Potter. Wouldn't be surprised if you went and shagged him."

--TW description of physical abuse--

"Cormac, I didn't shag him! We were just reconnecting, that's all. Please let's just tal-"

A loud smack echoed through the room.

Cormac had hit her.

"Shut up you bitch!"

Tears welled up in (Y/N)'s face. Cormac took noticed of this and began laughing at her.

"You're crying?" The boy shoved her against the wall. "What if I give you something to actually cry about?"

"Cormac, stop!" (Y/N) sobbed.

He let go of her and let her drop to the ground. (Y/N) had begun sobbing loudly, hyperventilating.

"Get out (Y/N)! Go to your fucking boyfriend Potter for all I care." Cormac screamed at her.

--TW end--

(Y/N) had pushed herself up and got out the door before Cormac slammed it behind her. She decided to use her strength to apparate to the only person that could help her.

She knocked on the door and waited a second before it opened to reveal her former schoolmate.

Harry stared at her before bringing her inside and embracing her. She flinched, but began melting into his embrace after telling herself that it's just Harry.

"I just need to know," Harry began. "Did Cormac do this to you?"

(Y/N) just nodded, not wanting to speak.

Harry felt himself become angry. How could Cormac do this to her? She was an angel, unlike that asshole. He never deserved her. But did Harry himself deserved (Y/N)? He couldn't protect her, keep her safe. This could've been avoided if Harry was with (Y/N).

He couldn't think about that now when (Y/N) was in his arms needing care. He brought the girl to his bathroom, doing his best to try and tend the bruises that littered her skin. Harry drew a bath and brought a change of clothes for (Y/N).

"I'll be right outside, I promise." He told her. "I'll have to finish checking your bruises when your done."

Once (Y/N) decided to get out of the bath half an hour later, Harry made sure he didn't miss any other injuries before bringing her to his bed. He was just going to let her rest until a hand grabs his.

"Don't leave. Please."

Harry would always listen to (Y/N).

The boy stayed with her until sleep finally took over. As much as Harry wanted to stay with her, he had business to take care of.

Thankfully, he remembered where (Y/N) lived after dropping her off multiple times so he apparated in the night to her door. He banged on the door hard until it opened, revealing his new worst enemy.

"What do you want Potter? (Y/N) isn't here."

"Oh I know." Harry told Cormac. "Just came for a chat."

Harry stepped forward in an attempt to enter the house until Cormac stopped him.

"I'm busy right now."

"Well I guess I can try to make this quick," Harry said.

A punch was thrown at the older wizard, catching him off guard. Harry grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and pushed them into the apartment, shoving him up against the nearest wall.

"I know what you did to (Y/N), McLaggen. How dare you hurt her!" Harry screamed at him.

"I didn't do such thing." Another punch was thrown.

"Don't you dare lie to me! I know you did it. You hurt her! You never deserved her."

"Oh but you think you do?" Cormac scoffed at Harry, while trying to push him off.

"I would've treated her way better than you ever have."

"You want a slut like her? You're pathetic Potter."

Those words had enraged Harry more than ever. The two continued fighting, Harry having the upper hand. One more punch landed on Cormac before he fell to the floor.

"You better stay away from (Y/N). If I hear that you stepped one foot near her I won't hesitate to punch you again," Harry spat at him before making his leave back to his home.

Harry headed for his room, wanting to make sure that the girl he loves was still there. Fortunately, she was, but she was awake.

"Where did you go Harry? I was getting worried."

"I just went to take care of something," he said, trying to reassure her.

"What do you need to take care of at this time?" (Y/N) said while walking toward him.

A small gasp slipped her month before her hand made contact with his cheek. Harry would be lying if he said it didn't feel nice.

"You're hurt Harry!" (Y/N) exclaimed before dragging him to his bathroom.

"(Y/N) love, I'm fine." He kind of wasn't. Harry looked at his reflection in the mirror and saw the marks Cormac apparently left him. He was too focused on getting vengeance for (Y/N) that he ignored it.

(Y/N) began cleaning his face. "Harry, you have dried blood on your face. I don't think that's considered fine. What were you doing?"

"If I tell you, you have to promise you won't be upset," Harry said to her.

"What?" (Y/N) paused, confused.

"Just promise me."

"Fine. I promise I won't get upset."

"Alright, well," Harry began. The adrenaline was gone and he began feeling nervous. "I went to visit Cormac at your guys apartment."

"You went to see Cormac?" (Y/N) squeaked. "Why would you do that Harry?"

"I couldn't stand what he did to you (Y/N). He hurt you. You didn't deserve what he did. I had to teach him a lesson."

"So you went to beat each other up?"

"Well, him more so than me," Harry joked.

"Why? Why would you beat him up for me?"

"Because (Y/N). I love you."

(Y/N)'s eyes widen in shock. "W-what?"

"I love you. And I think I always have. Seeing you brought back those feelings I've had back when we were at Hogwarts. I would do anything to protect you (Y/N)."

"Oh Harry," tears welled up in (Y/N)'s eyes.

Harry noticed and got a little bit worried. "It's alright if you don't feel the same way. I know you just had to deal with Cormac so-"

Arms wrapped around him and lips met his. Harry froze for a second before melting into it, gently placing his hands on her waist.

(Y/N) was the first to break the kiss, to respond to Harry's declaration of love to her.

"I love you too, Harry."

(Y/N) finished cleaning up Harry before heading back to his bed. His arms wrapped around her, keeping her warm and safe.

"I promise to protect you no matter what," Harry said to her. "I would do anything for you."

"And I will do the same for you, because you're mine."

"And I will always be yours."

[iwanty0uu]

a/n: y/n is black, whatever body type you prefer, and is about 20, she’s also in college and is a nurse in training so you know she gets money, and on top of that she’s a nail tech so she’s usually super busy. ~ keep that in mind !

Onyankopon was extremely toxic, no matter how many times he loved bombed you after arguments that he knew he had the wrong in, or fucked you until you forgave him, it was undeniable that he was toxic. It all started after a long day of work, the hospital bustling since it was the night before Halloween. People did stupid things all the time but man the shit you saw that night was just absurd, on top of that you had a nail appointment as soon as your shift ended, so there shouldn’t have been a surprise when you stumbled into your apartment complex forty five minutes past eleven with a pounding headache, and a desire for comfort from your boyfriend after the traumatic night you had.

press me

The soft sound of your light switch filled the empty apartment, a linen colored light illuminated the kitchen and living room, the purple crocs you kicked off flipped them selves over at the door. Throwing the keys on the counter and washing your hands, you couldn’t help but rest your head in them. You love your job, but its so tiring.. every day it feels like the world is moving at one hundred miles per hour and you cant catch up. Tears no longer threatened to spill, they were overflowing. You sobbed, headache worsening, heart aching from the stress and the pain, however your sobs drowned out the vibration from your phone which was forgotten after you took your shirt off, and threw it on your living room floor. A trail of scrubs were left behind leading to the bathroom, as you turned the shower on, not even waiting for the water to heat up and hopped in. Practically washing yourself in your tears, you placed your head on the wet wall next to you, going light headed from the steam, you felt drained.. so empty, and you needed a hug, so that’s what you decided to get. The water was stopped and the floor dampened after coming in contact with your wet feet, the robe you put on felt warm, it’s the closest thing to human touch that you’ve felt in a while, and the shower really did help you feel better. After a good cry, you decided to postmates some food and call your best friend Jayleen to see if she wanted to come over and watch some shows and eat and cry with you, but you were met with 28 missed calls from your boyfriend, and over 50 text messages. Great. You didn’t call him after work to tell him you got home late, and considering that he loved to make shit what it wasn’t, you know that he would have your ass in the morning, and honestly it was too much. He isn’t your father and he clocks your every move.

A sigh escaped your lips as you grabbed a cold bottle of water and let that problem wait for tomorrow and it’s own set of troubles. That was until three sudden thumps hit your door, making you jump, water bottle falling out of your hands. “The fuck banging on my shit so late” you complained cleaning up the mess as your headache settled back in. Clothes still on the floor, you opened the door to face with your “man”. The darkskin in an all black nike tech suit, and yeezy slides had his arms folded over his chest, hoodie up and durag on, only showing a portion of his head, but his dark and angry eyes met yours. You felt tears sting your eyes again, knowing that he was here to argue. “So you not finna let-“ you cut him off “Please don’t start Onyankopon. I’m so exhausted and I’ve had a terrible day at work. I understand I didn’t call you when I got home and that I missed your 28 calls but I was in the shower. Do you feel better about yourself now? I dont give two flying fucks if you’re here to accuse me of cheating again and I’m not boutta force you to believe me when you’re delusional lame ass love making shit up in your head. So stop wasting my fuckin time and leave me the fuck alone.You’re not here when you need to be so you can keep suckin your other hoes off. I could care less,nigga you’re bitch made.”

Your words strong, and it felt like a strong blow to Ony. Tears were running down your face as you practically begged him to stay out of your life, but he still pushed his way through your human barricade, and scanned your apartment. “The fuck your clothes on the floor for, you got other niggas in here?” he asked taking his hood off. You stood there looking at him, words couldn’t describe how much of an idiot this little boy really was. “Did this fucker not hear a word that I just said?” you asked yourself. Your head was hurting and stress was already taking a hold of you, since he didn’t understand english, you had to show him how serious you were about this. If he thought your words hurt, then he underestimated how strong your actual hands were. You landed a slap to his face which sent his airpod flying. It took everything in you not to Madea his ass with a pan of grits but seeing his reaction to your anger was price-less. “GET THE FUCK OUT.” You didnt have to yell for your voice to resemble your mother’s. Stern, sharp, and filled with anger. “You want me to fuck other niggas so I will. Get. The. Fuck. Out.” You said as he stood there, brows furrowed. He watched you grab the top part of your robe, holding them together for comfort as you pointed to the open door. Bonnet revealing the small knot that ties your silk head wrap together. You pushed your glasses up, narrowing your eyes at the bitch in front of you. Everyone in the complex probably heard the argument. No, most definitely heard the argument, your neighbor came out with a broom and was “sweeping the carpet” at one in the morning. Nosy ass.

Onyankopon’s POV:

It took everything in me to keep my laugh in at the sight of the girl. She looked like my mom while scolding me, but she love me too much to let me go for real. “Baby I’m sorry” I said trying to touch her, “Alright I’m done now” i said laughing but she backed away like she was afraid of me. She’s not deadass the fuck she won’t let me touch her for? Nah bro she really got me fucked up this time. “Stop acting like you not finna fuck and forgive me after.” I said sitting on a stool, leaning back on her island. Yea I have my days but she know how i am.. right? “Bitch don’t ‘baby’ me” she said staring me down, eyes still teary, but so soft. I know she still love me.. I mean this wasn’t even our worst argument so i don’t understand the problem. “Alright now you hit me and you got your point across, so let’s jus finish this like usual alright baby.” Putting my hands out for her to come to me, she stared and laughed. Laughed like i was wearing no clothes in the middle of the street. “Yo this wasn’t even a big deal for real so what’s your problem now ma?” I know how to get under her skin, even if she was for real, she would still be thinking about me and how much I get on her nerves. Shit, better than nothin.

“This dumb ass bitch bruh no Onyankopon. I want you out of my apartment, and out of my life” I felt her tug on my sweater and push me out of the front door. She cant be for real right?….

But it didnt strike him that you were for real this time until three days later. HE seen you posted up with his home boy Eren on instagram who always got on him for not treating you well enough. He always told Eren to stay out of his business, which he claimed to be you, but for the next couple weeks Eren would be everywhere but out of your apartment. He was so good at communicating and never forced his way into your life, you two were just friends, and you loved having someone to talk to about your past. However, it was too late for Ony, when he was fuckin his hoes, he never thought, when he was giving head, he didn’t think about how you would feel, but now that he was a free agent, all of it including loneliness would bite him in the ass. He refused to admit it, but you were the best he ever had, and he felt nothing but anger knowing that he would never be able to be in your life again.

THIS WAS TEWWWWW FUN TO WRITE I HOPE MY BOOKIES LOVE IT TOODLES! ~𝑙𝑒𝑙𝑒！

[veeluvss]

i love you more, mama

TW: self harm, an attempt

emily x daughter!reader

i returned home from a case, dropping my go bag at the door and sighing heavily. my word i was tired. i walked through to the kitchen and noticed the mess. y/n hadn't done her chores again. i was hardly home but the only thing i asked her to do was make sure the house was clean and tidy. there was plates piled by the sink, pans and food. the food stunk and it was going off. why was she making food if she wasn't eating it? i groaned and headed up stairs, calling her name. her bedroom door was open and that was just as messy as the kitchen, i couldn't see her floor. all the clean washing i did last week was sprawled all over her bed. her desk was full of crisp packets and rubbish. i was appalled. "y/n!" i shouted again, getting more annoyed. i scanned the rooms, even checking my room. the sheets were crumpled, the bed unmade - like she'd been sleeping in mine. i could hear the tap in my en-suite too. "y/n," i called, going over and knocking on the door. i heard a gasp, a weak one but a gasp and i grew confused. what was going on? "you in there babe?" i asked, knocking. i could hear her whimpering, like she was trying to hide her crying. i tried the door but it was locked. "baby," i said, growing more panicked. i knocked more and a pain grew in my chest. something was wrong. i bashed at the door, putting my fbi field knowledge to use but i couldn't quite prepare myself for what i saw.

blood. the room was dark but i could smell the metallic hint in the air. "y/n," i whispered. i turned on the light and the sight in the bath shocked me even more. she was slumped over, head against the side of the wall, legs cut open. i couldn't even form any words. my baby. her eyes were fluttering and she tilted her head back to look at me. seeing the single tear fall from her tired eyes made me break. i quickly scrambled into the bath behind her, taking my phone out my pocket. "come on baby," i whispered, cradling her. "stay with me. keep them eyes open for mama." i rang an ambulance.

the sound of the heart beat monitor was draining me. i couldn't listen to the noise any longer. i took once glance at my daughter laying almost lifeless in the hospital bed and went to throw up. i couldn't help but feel like i'd failed as a mother. the team had been calling me, texting me. the lot. i couldn't bare to answer. i was ashamed. how did i not see her get this bad? i knew she had issues, i adopted her from an abusive situation but - but this?

once i'd washed my mouth out and wiped the tears from my cheeks i headed back into the ward. however, the blonde hair made me pause. "JJ," i muttered. she was staring at y/n, not moving, seeing the bandages all across her legs and scars on her arms. "she?" she choked out, turning around to me. i just took her into my arms. we both needed the hug.

"how did you find me?" "garcia, she tracked your phone when you weren't answering. an fbi badge gets you through all sorts of security," she chuckled. i smiled softly. "why didn't you call us? at least text? we could have helped." i shrugged. "i just, i feel like it's my fault." i was honest. i wasn't used to opening up, especially about parenting but with JJ, the mother of the group, and my best friend, it seemed right. "because you weren't there for her?" she asked. she reached her hand over and took hold of my hand. i could only nod, looking over at my baby. lying there, her chest going up and down, up and down. "when roslyn died, i blamed myself for so long." she said. "i thought i had this obligation to look out for her because we were sisters but as i grew up, i realised the pain she felt. i understood that she didn't tell me because she didn't want to hurt me." i took a deep breath. "as well, she saw me as an escape. spending time with me was her way out of it all, it was all nice and quiet when she had me there. she couldn't ruin that by telling me what was going on." i nodded, understanding. "you we're her escape em, she didn't want to ruin that beautiful relationship." "she died." i told her. "but she's here now. thanks to you."

after some time, garcia called JJ but i told her not to tell them the truth. not only was i still ashamed of myself, i didn't want her pain and suffering to be shared everywhere. JJ agreed to go work on a case, telling the team y/n was just poorly and she'll be okay soon. which she was. not a complete lie. "text me, please. if you need anything." JJ whispered, grabbing hold on my shoulders. i nodded and blinked back tears, i wasn't quite ready for her to go yet. "can you erm," i muttered. "can you send someone to go clean the house?" i asked timidly. "the bathroom- it's..." "i'll get it sorted. don't worry," she whispered. she leaned in and kissed my cheek. she then leaned down to y/n and kissed hers, stroking her hair and leaving a lingering gentle touch.

a few hours of silence later, i felt her twitch in my arms. i'd managed to slide in beside her in the bed, cuddling into her side and holding her close, yet so gently. i sat up, just in time to see her flicking her eyes open. she looked at me for a second then around at the room before closing her eyes tight. "i didn't work," she muttered, more to herself. i felt my heart break then. "thank you." she said afterwards. i looked at her in shock, she thanked me? i couldn't say anything, i just felt overwhelmed with relief and love. i lay down beside her and held her close to me, a little tighter this time. "i love you." i told her honestly. "i love you more mama."

[javierpena-inatacvest]

Hi! Congrats on 500 followers!

Could I request prompt 30 with Javi going out of his ways to surprise Osita with a candle lit dinner at home? Javi is a great cook and very domestic/tidy in my head.

Thank you! 😍

Ugh, nonnie, this one was so cute!!! 😭💕 I 100% agree that Javi is also kind of a neat freak and a good cook!! Also this one goes out to my own personal Javi P bc my husband has put up with my grumpy ass while I go back to school this week and has done everything around the house so I can go to bed at like 8:00 every night 🥺

You Make Life Worth It

Summary: Javi knows you've had a rough week at school, and surprises you with dinner

Word count: 1.2K

Warnings: FLUFFFF, allusions to smut (bc of course), mentions of eating and drinking, mentions of alcohol, work stress, Javi just being the sweetest and wanting to make you happy bc he literally loves you so much

This can be read as a stand alone or as a part of the It's Never Too Late Series!

Part of the 500 Followers Celebration Requests!

Tired would have been a tame way to describe how you had felt the past few days. Truth be told, you were fucking exhausted. There must have been something in the air at Alma Pierce Elementary School this week- your class was even crazier than normal, you got a new student in the middle of the year, the copier and broken down on you not once, but three times, and the closest you had gotten to eating lunch was shoving half a sandwich in your mouth during the 30 seconds you had to sit down at your desk. It was safe to say, you’d been kind of a grump this week. Javi knew first hand from his mom that teaching was absolutely draining, and could tell when there were times that all you needed to do was come home and lay down on the couch before you could do anything else.  You tried your best to always have a positive outlook and not complain, but when Javi came home yesterday to find you face down at the kitchen table, asleep face down in the pile of art projects you were trying to organize, you were really going through it. 

Today had been no better than the rest of the week, but at least it was Friday. Although, this Friday felt a lot less relaxing than most, realizing on the drive home that your apartment was a disaster. You had been so tired that practically every household chore had gone neglected. Laundry was in a heap on the floor, dishes were piled in the sink, you had left things out everywhere- it really looked like a tornado had rolled through and took down everything in the apartment in its wake. Javi was always good about helping you clean around the house, but his dad had needed help re-roofing part of the horse barn, and had been over there every day after work, coming home to find you already passed out in bed, on the couch or yesterday, the kitchen table. Trudging up the stairs to your apartment, you took a deep breath as you walked down the hallway to your door, pausing as you got closer. Why was there music playing? Why did it smell so good? Javi isn’t supposed to be home for another 3 hours? The questions spun in your head as you twisted the doorknob, too exhausted to even care if it was an intruder. If it was, at least they had good music taste and were maybe making you dinner. 

As you pushed open the door, you saw your apartment was dimly lit, candles scattered around the living room and kitchen, the shadows of the flames flickering and dancing along the walls. You could hear soft music and pans sizzling in the kitchen, along with the sweet humming of Javi’s voice. You closed the door behind you to see that the candles were everywhere, placed all over your now spotless apartment, taking a few more shocked steps into the living room before Javi noticed your presence. He grinned, quickly setting down what he was working and wiping his hands on the towel he had tucked in his waistband while he was cooking before coming over to cup your face for a long, sweet kiss that made your heart race, leaving you speechless. 

“Javi… is this… what are you… what?” You stumbled over your words, tears welling behind your eyes as you felt the stress begin to melt from your body. 

“Go take a seat, dinner’s almost done.” He smiled, tucking a piece of loose hair behind your ear before planting another kiss on your lips and heading back to the delicious smell of whatever was in the kitchen. Turning around, you now noticed that Javi had set the table with a fresh bouquet of flowers sitting in a vase in the middle, and two beers for you at your seat. 

“You really knew it was a two beers off the get-go kinda night, huh?” You snickered, cracking open one of the cans, taking a lengthy sip sitting down in your usual spot. 

“Osita, with the week you’ve had, I probably should have just set the whole 6-pack out for you.” The both of you laughed as you propped your elbow up on the table, resting your chin in your palm as you gazed at Javi, a gentle grin growing across your face as you watched him finish up dinner and bring a plate out for each of you. “What’s that look for?” He smirked, gesturing to you as he set both your plates down, pressing a soft kiss into the top of your head before sitting down in his seat. 

“You just… Javi, you didn’t have to do all of this. It’s so nice of you. Like, so nice of you. Thank you, Jav. You’re way too good to me.” You outstretched your arm across the table, grabbing his hand, tenderly running your thumb across his skin. “I love you.” The 3 words sliding out of your mouth just as easily as the stress had slid from your dreary expression after walking into your apartment just moments ago. “Also this salmon looks so good I could cry. Oh my god, is that the risotto too? I think that you have literally ruined any other risotto for me ever because whatever you do to it is- I don’t even know. I dream about your risotto, babe. You really are too good for me.” Nodding down at the plate in front of you, eyes widening at the delicious looking food Javi had made the both of you. He laughed as you took a fork full, your eyes rolling in the back of your head as swallowed, practically moaning from how good it was. 

“Well it’s the least I can do to make up for being a shitty boyfriend this week. I felt awful that I had to help Pops and that the past few days had been so tough for you. I feel super shitty that I haven’t helped to keep the apartment clean, either, I know that stresses you out.” He shifted his eyes down to his food, frown pursing his lips, feeling guilty for not doing more to help. “But-” his demeanor began to shift as he took a bite full of food, barely finishing chewing before speaking again. “Everything should be all cleaned now, laundry’s done, even finally got around to fixing that fucking shelf in our bedroom so it doesn’t scare the shit out of us every time it falls down.” He smiled at you, the look in his eyes almost begging you to forgive him for the fact he hadn’t been there for you the past few days. 

“Damn… I don’t know Jav, I’m really gonna miss almost crapping my pants every time that collapses.” The two of you giggled, taking a few more bites of your food before the gears in your head began to turn, wondering how Javi had time to do any of the things he was talking about, let alone have time to make you this delicious dinner. “Wait, when did you do all this? How did you have time to get all this done? 

Javi shrugged, raising his eyebrows, trying his best to hold back his grin. “Told Morris that I had something I had to get done today. Left a few hours early.” 

“Javier Peña, you did not leave work early just to clean the apartment and make dinner!” You swatted at his hand across the table, trying your best to be mad at him, your sass only making him smile wider. “My couple of bad days and lack of responsibility for not cleaning up after myself is not a good reason for you to play hooky.” 

“Hey.” He paused, grabbing your hand, holding it carefully as his sweet brown eyes gazed into yours. “Before you, I had nothing to live for. I had written off the chance of ever having anything like this. But then you came into my life. I never dreamed that something as simple as coming home from work early to do laundry and cook dinner would make me so happy. But, when you’re doing it for the person you love more than anything in the world, I’d do it again and again, every goddamn day. So thank you.” Te amo, Osita. Me enamoro mil veces al día, y todas son de ti. (I love you, Osita. I fall in love a thousand times a day, each time with you.) He interlaced his fingers with yours, holding your hand up to his face, planting a tender kiss on the top of your hand. A smile stretched across your face as you sniffled, using your free hand to wipe the tears falling down your cheeks with your sleeve. 

“Te amo más (I love you more), you dork. Thanks for making me cry.” You teased, Javi giving your hand a squeeze before releasing it, letting you dry the rest of your wet face. “I still don’t know what I ever did to deserve you. Or this delicious food. You’re the best, Javi. Thank you.” 

“I’m glad you like it. I hope you saved room for dessert.” He smirked, a boyish grin growing across his face as he bit down on his lip. You raised an eyebrow at him, setting your fork down on your almost cleared plate as you leaned back in your chair, crossing your arms over your chest. 

“Oh really? And what’s on the menu for dessert today, chef Peña?” 

“You’ll see.” 

“Oh, I’ll see? Okay then, well-ahhhhh!” You squealed as Javi darted up from his seat, lifting you out of your chair and scooping you up in his arms, peppering kisses across your body as he carried you off towards the bedroom as you giggled and squirmed in his arms. “Does dessert come with seconds?” You asked, as he carried you down the hallway, only stopping his ticklish kisses to answer your question. 

“Baby, dessert alone is about to be a full four course meal.”  

Taglist: @cool-iguana @rhoorl @whyjuliaaa @bbiophiliaa @pertinentpostmortem @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @pedrobaby @fatima-marisa @beboldbebravethings @poodlebae @kittenlittle24 @3sriracha @jungchloee @perennialdoll247 @prettyinpunk85 @partyofone3413 @harriedandharassed

[joels-darlin]

Monday Morning - The Rescue

Chapter 1 can be found here - Ch 1: Monday Moring - The Situation

Pairings: Javier Peña x f!reader

Warnings: 18+ only. kidnapping/hostage situation, violence, angst, hurt, allusions to rape, mentions of weapons, restraints/being tied up, mentions of blood and injuries. (I think that's all sorry if I missed any)

Summary: A standard Monday morning commute to the DEA office takes a harrowing turn of events. Now Javi and Steve are here to rescue you.

Word count: 2469

Author Note: Apologies this took so long to get out but have been hit with huge writers block recently and finally got through it!! I am debating (being a strong word here) wrapping this all up with a Chapter 3, so if you want it please let me know! Any feedback is appreciated, thanks all ♥️

Special thankyou to @ladybess-a03 for your help/support on this and providing your amazing Beta reading services which I am forever grateful for ♥️ AO3 Link

Javier was losing his mind, anxiety bubbling in his chest an unusual feeling for him. Taking another glance around, his eyes landed on the clock that hung on the yellowing walls of the office.10:43am, and you still hadn’t stepped through those heavy brown doors. He knew you liked to be in earlier than the rest, taking the first couple of hours of peace to catch up with any leftover paperwork and enjoy the coffee you grabbed from near the markets on your short commute in.

His fingers drummed against the solid oak desk, shifting to grab another file from the growing pile of paperwork next to him. Having only drained his coffee cup a mere five minutes ago, file still in his hand closed, Javi pondered for a second thoughts of you filling his mind. 

“Fuck this!” he thought shoving the chair back with force and standing to his feet. Snatching the cup from the desk he stalked to the kitchen; he needed a distraction, and fast.

In the kitchen was where he ran into Steve who seemed to have a similar need for a caffeine fix. Javi made himself busy washing and drying his cup before leaving it next to the coffee machine, signaling he was next in the queue.

“You heard from her?” Steve spoke first, breaking the unusual silence between the pair.

“Nothing, she must be on holiday or sick?”

“I spoke to the front desk earlier, but no phone calls or requests have come in,” Steve responded in a flat tone.

As far as they were concerned this was unusual behavior, and something felt really wrong. You had never missed a day's work, always opting to call in at the earliest convenience if you were sick or unable to come in. After Steve left, Javi busied himself again now that the coffee machine was free, retreating back to his desk shortly after. A sigh left his lips on approach as he spotted the paperwork pile which he swore had increased since he had stepped away.

The day dragged on like any other; go through the never-ending paperwork, look at leads on Escobar, review new (but also useless) intelligence. It was the conversation between some other colleagues that caught his attention on his seventh visit to the kitchen for a refill.

“Did you hear about the trouble this morning? At the markets, I heard some young woman was bundled into the back of a car. They must be in trouble with Escobar and his cronies” he overheard. 

Javi’s ears pricked up at this, craning his neck towards the conversation happening in the other room. Paper thin walls meant no secrets were safe in this office. His mind suddenly went into overdrive. The markets? Wasn’t that near where you usually frequented for your coffee? Shoving his cup in the sink, not even bothering to clean it this time, he rushed back to his desk.

“Steve…can we talk…in private?” he asked. He leant over the desks, getting as close to his partner as possible trying to avoid causing any commotion. Moving his head to gesture at the storage cupboard across the other side of the room. Steve nodded, rising from his desk before following, closing the door behind.

”This better be good, I have a pile of paperwork to-” he began. 

“I was just in the kitchen…overheard a conversation about someone getting kidnapped by possibly Escobar’s men near the markets early this morning…you think it could be her?”. It had been radio silence all day, still not hearing anything from you, definitely a cause for concern.

“Wow, you really like her don’t you?” his partner chuckled. Steve knew Javi had a slight infatuation for his female partner but didn’t think it ran this deep. It was obvious sometimes though, the extra glances across the office towards your desk whilst working or the way his partners eyes lit up upon you entering the room.

“Steve…not now…seriously…could it be her?”

“What makes you think it could be? These things happen on the streets pretty much every day!”. Javi sighed, lifting his hand to card his fingers through his hair. 

“I don’t know, I just have a bad feeling and it won’t go away…”. 

What Steve failed to mention was also the sinking feeling in his stomach that had been churning around for most of the day; in his eyes you were a friend and even he was starting to get concerned. 

“I guess it won’t hurt to go ask around” he said. 

~~~

Absolutely useless, the pair might as well have stayed in the office, having not gotten a single lead on your whereabouts. With the endless shaking of heads and “No’s” they were met with, the frustration was grating. Not a single person had recognised your face in the picture they were showing around, but there had to be someone here. 

From the corner of his eye, Javi spotted it; the coffee cart. Still manned, an old looking bloke who must have been late sixties maybe. In all of ten minutes the man in question had identified you, and even made note of the number plate of the vehicle he saw you being carted into; it was like some sort of miracle. Javi and Steve left not long after, graciously thanking the man for his information, even grabbing a quick coffee whilst there as a token gesture. 

He might have just saved your life.

~~~

It took less than an hour for them to find the location once back at the office. A small group of the team pulled off their current assignments, their new focus now being tracking the whereabouts of the black SUV they now knew you had been taken in. It wasn’t long before they got a hit. The vehicle was last spotted in a location known to Escobar - owning establishments up and down the country.

As soon as the approval was given they were out of the office and into the car, the location being a disused house just a few miles from the market. It was a huge risk just two of them versus however many of Escobar’s men were guarding you. But Javi had to get you out if it was the last thing he ever did.

Under the cover of darkness they parked just up the road from the house, in the hopes to not raise any suspicions. Slipping out into the warm air, both quietly approaching the two doors on the building, splitting them evenly. Luckily, for once, there were only two men inside; taking one each the bodies dropped to the ground in the blink of an eye. The partners opted for a quick scan of the premises for any further Sicarios before giving the all clear.

“Cariño” Javi’s voice came out barely a whisper, catching sight of you from through the doorway. Eyes scanning your frame he could see you were stripped to just your underwear. Beaten, bruised, blindfolded and currently slumped over in a rusty metal chair. It wasn’t hard for him to miss your chest heaving with sobs. His heart sank, stomach twisting and turning in a sickly way - the bile starting rising in his throat. Then came the wave of rage. How could someone do this to you, a small, fragile but beautiful human being?.

Checking his surroundings again before holstering his gun he approached you cautiously, your head lifting slightly at the sounds of footsteps in the room.

“Please ...no…not again…please” you begged, screamed in fact. Evidently choking on a fresh set of tears. Javi stood frozen for a second a million thoughts whizzing around his head; what the fuck had they done to you?

“It’s Javi…sweetheart…you’re okay, Steve is outside the door…you-you’re safe now” he said, his own voice stammering as he processed the sight of you, the sickening feeling in his stomach not having passed yet as his mind ran with thoughts of what had happened to you in this room. 

“J-J-Javi….H-H-How?” you croaked. 

“Shhh now, it’s okay. I’m going to undo the ropes and blindfold for you. But it’s just me; I won’t hurt you” he said. 

Javi waited and the small nod of approval was enough for him to step closer. Approaching the back of the chair his eyes fell to your hands bound together with an old dirty rope. Releasing the knot took him longer than expected and he let out a sigh of relief upon seeing it hit the floor - not missing the angry bleeding marks which embellished the soft skin there.

Circling back around Javi wasn’t prepared for the sight he lay his eyes on; breaking his heart into pieces. The mixture of pain and blind rage bubbling up in his chest; insistent that he was going to make every single one of them pay. Fighting with his demons he wanted nothing more than to pull you into an embrace. Now was not the time for that though, as he was unsure how much physical damage you had endured, and wanted to get you straight to the hospital to be checked over.

“Hey…” a soft voice made you lift your head, eyes locking for a brief moment with those brown orbs, it being hard to miss the sadness and guilt swimming in them “…think you can stand?” Javi asked. 

You nodded, taking a minute for a deep breath in and out before shakily standing from the chair - feeling his eyes watching intently, ready to intercept at any moment. It wasn’t long before your shaking legs gave out, landing on the cold hard floor with a thump. At this point what was just another bruise for the ever growing collection.

“Okay cariño I’m going to carry you, alright? If you get uncomfortable at any point tell me, okay?”. Javi waited for your approval and after another slight nod he approached slowly, sliding one arm under the back of your knees and the other around your back, lifting your frame from the floor to carry you bridal style. Ever so careful with hand placement.

Cradled against his chest it was hard not to close your eyes, the sheer warmth radiating from his skin, your head nestled in the crook of his neck; forehead brushing against the exposed skin there. The smell of Javi filled your nose as you tried to control your breathing - a mix of leather, tobacco and coffee.

“You good, hermosa?” he asked. No words came out, just the nod of approval again to signal that you were okay. Making sure he moved slowly out of the house, he carefully bundled you into the backseat of the car.

“Is she alright?” the familiar voice cut through the darkness, and it took a second to realise that it was in fact Steve. You don’t remember much after that; the world plunged into darkness.

~~~

Coming to your senses, you slowly started blinking, desperately trying to open my eyes and see what’s around. The blinding light slowly subsided as you craned to take in the surroundings. Okay so this was a hospital, you knew that for certain, obvious by the pristine white walls and that goddamn awful bleach smell that made your nose crinkle in disgust. It was the soft voice from the right which caught your attention more though.

“Cariño…”. Turning your head, you saw him. There was Javi, sat in the sickly green looking hospital chair, standing the second your eyes locked. “…it’s okay we got you, you are safe now”.

A heavy sigh left your lips, the events of the morning playing vividly in your head. “I mean…I th-think so” your voice was hoarse and weak.

“I’ll go tell them you are awake” he smiled and reached out a soft warm hand, taking yours and giving it a quick squeeze before heading towards the door. 

Taking in the surroundings, you quickly noticed it was dark outside from the slight crack in the blinds over the window. How long had you been out? Looking down at your body, the tangle of wires and IV’s all connected into your skin causing a shudder to run up your spine. Not failing to notice that you were still just in your underwear, the scratchy feeling of the hospital blanket against your skin was uncomfortable, but at least it was covering you from the chest down. The door creaked open again, in strolling Javi moving to stand next to you.

Your skin was a mass of purple bruises and luckily only a few superficial cuts which were taken care of whilst you were out, your face being the part that had taken the brunt of the beating. They had left you with a hefty black eye, split lip, and fractured cheekbone. Javi was seething hearing the damage they had inflicted. But there was one thing he couldn’t get off his mind, the thought plaguing him for the many hours he had spent sitting in that goddamn chair.

“Sweetheart…I need to know…did-did…they touch you?” he stuttered, locking eyes with yours again, emphasis on the word he needed to get across so you understood what he was asking. Taking a moment to answer, you were obviously reliving the previous trauma and he could see it behind your eyes, tears just starting to collect at the lash line.

Gaze drawn back down to your lap all you could do was nod, not baring to look at him again knowing the tears will spill over. He had an idea but wanted it to come from you and the non-verbal response was enough. It took a lot for Javi to show his emotions but that was when he broke.

It was only when a nurse entered the room, fresh hospital gown in hand, that he turned away. More so to give you privacy whilst she helped you into the clothing, he let a single tear slip down his face whilst his back was turned, wiping it away with the heel of his hand. Gods above, he was going through it right now, unable to comprehend how someone could even do that to you. The feeling in his chest was insufferable, his heart breaking into a million tiny pieces again. He couldn’t even imagine the pain you must be feeling right now. 

It was only when he caught sight of the nurse leaving that he turned back around. Glancing over at the bed, you looked so small…so frightened. Javi wanted nothing more than to scoop you up into his arms and make the pain go away. But right now, that wouldn’t achieve anything, for as much as he wanted to. He was going to have to be so careful with you for a long, long while.

This was going to take time, but he swore then and there to be by your side every step of the way.

[ranchracoon]

Ch. 10 kindness

You wiped the sweat from your forehead and released a heavy sigh when you stood up with a loud pop in your back. All morning you had spent scrubbing the kitchen floor after a very unfortunate explosion of batter; you wanted to bake something sweet to give Donna but learned you have the baking skills of a toddler. Thankfully Angie was in a giving mood and was willing to buy something from the village, on the condition you cleaned up your mess. As soon as you drained the water from your mop bucket, Angie walked into the kitchen and put a wicker basket on the counter. You turned around and smiled as she pulled out some covered pastries, cookies, even a small cake; all which made your mouth water.

"Wow Angie, you went all out." You complimented.

"Who said this was all for you?" She answered.

You paused for a moment then snickered, "never took you for having a sweet tooth."

"There's a lot you don't know about me and I intend to keep it that way. Now, take the cake and get out of my kitchen."

"Yes ma'am."

You tore off the cleaning apron to hang up on the wall to dry then picked up the cake and fast-walked out into the hallway. As you approached the workshop you heard soft humming, it was the same tune you had heard previously when you caught Donna playing the piano. Carefully you pushed open the door and watched for a moment: Donna sat at her workbench humming to herself, she was completely lost in whatever she was working on. You crept in and cleared your throat to alert her of your presence; she shot up quickly and grabbed some nearby cloth to cover whatever was in front of her. She turned around to meet your narrowed eyes before her eye fell on the cake in your hands, she gave you a soft smile while she leaned against the desk.

"What are you working on?" You asked innocently.

"It's a surprise." She answered shortly, "what do you have there?"

"It's a surprise." You mocked.

She scowled but didn't move, she watched you set the cake on her work table in the middle of the shop then tilt your head. She started to walk over but you grabbed the cake to hide behind your back, Donna scowled and crossed her arms with a soft huf.

"I'll tell you if you tell me what you were humming. It's the same one you were playing on the piano." You looked around, it just occurred to you that the piano wasn't anywhere to be seen, "speaking of...where is the piano?"

Donna tensed for a moment, "it's one of the first songs I learned to fully play." She caught your curious look, "the piano was a gift for Lady Dimitrescu."

You hummed then put the cake on the table, "I hope you like chocolate."

Donna looked at the cake curiously, she tilted her head then looked up at you like a child, "but..it's not my birthday."

"You can have cake on days other than your birthday." You laughed.

Donna gave you a cheeky grin then stood upright, "I appreciate the surprise, but that still doesn't explain why you brought me a cake."

You shrugged, "felt like it? I can take it away if you don't want it." You started to reach for it but Donna was quicker.

"I didn't say that.." she mumbled.

You chuckled and clapped your hands together, "we can eat it before we work!"

"Work?" Donna asked.

"Yes, you're going to help me in the greenhouse remember? But first we need to get you some gardening clothes. You can't do yard work in the outfits you wear, not that you don't look good or stunning even. I mean-" Donna put her finger on your mouth to stop your rambling.

"Where do we start?"

You giggled nervously then told Donna to find some clothes she no longer wore or wouldn't mind getting dirty. While she did that you went into the kitchen to get a knife, forks, and two plates for the cake. You beat her to the workshop and when she walked in you already had the cake served. Donna put some clothes on the table, there was a button up black shirt, some black slacks, and a black belt; you were expecting something different yet weren't surprised either. You examined them while Donna ate then asked if she had any shoes she could get dirty to which she tapped her chin before she nodded. She left to get changed and you dropped off the cake in the kitchen, washed your dirty dishes, then waited for her by the manor door.

She joined you shortly after, even in something so basic as that she still looked sleek and refined. In her hand were a pair of tattered shoes, probably the only tattered thing she owned in the whole manor. Angie came out from the sitting area with a magazine in her hand, she gazed up at the two of you curiously.

"Where are you off to now?" She asked.

"The greenhouse. Want to come?" You replied.

"No. If I never touch dirt again it'll be too soon."

"Very well Angie, we'll be back in time for Y/N to help you for dinner." Donna said softly.

"Thank you my lord." Angie coughed lightly.

The key to the greenhouse was heavy in your pocket, but it was a welcomed weight that padded against your thigh with each step. Donna walked beside you in silence, you looked up at the part of her face left uncovered. You couldn't stop looking at her, she was such a mystery and you couldn't place why on Earth she would hide away from everyone. Once the two of you were in the greenhouse, alone, without the prying ears of Angie, you decided to try and weed some answers out of her.

"I thought you didn't like being called lord?" You started.

Donna tightened her leather gloves and began to pick up shards of ceramic, "I don't."

"Then, why didn't you correct Angie when she called you it?"

She paused for a moment, "I have my reasons."

A soft growl left you as you took a garbage can to put debris in, she wasn't going to crack easily. Afterall, she had spent however many years without speaking to anyone let alone letting them see her yet here she was: working in the greenhouse with you. You attempted to pry deeper into her only to be given short, unsatisfactory answers.

"I was homeschooled."

"No."

"Sometimes."

"I like to read."

"Why don't you tell me about you?"

That caught you off guard but you weren't exactly getting anywhere with her, feeling snarky you gave her short one-worded answers too. She didn't respond but you could feel her eye on you, examining every move you made, and it was a familiar feeling you hadn't felt since you and Donna had been around each other. Too lost in thought you hadn't noticed Donna had gotten close to you when you turned to throw some debris away only to be met with her throwing debris at the same time. Dirt exploded everywhere: in your hair, on your clothes, and all over Donna. There was a long silence before both of you started to laugh, her laugh was angelic to say the least, it was high in pitch but soft on the edges. Judging from the look on her face, she hadn't laughed in a very long time and became flustered at the sudden uproar.

You pulled some cloth from your back pocket to wipe away the dirt from her face, as you were about to clean her mask, her hand grabbed your wrist to stop you. Her black eye locked with your E/C ones, frantically it searched for something as the two of you stood there. It softened briefly, then she brushed her thumb over your hand before she lowered it slowly.

"Is there anything that doesn't look good on you?" Your face turned hot when you realized you said it out loud.

Donna giggled softly, her pale cheeks were coated with a light pinkish tint before she cleared her throat and released your hand. Her gaze drifted toward the see-through door of the greenhouse to see it was getting dark out. She held up her arm with a slanted grin to walk you out, after you locked the door you leaned against her arm for warmth and comfort, and she allowed you too surprisingly. Donna led you back to the manor in her usual silence, only this time her shoulders were relaxed and not as stiff. She paused for a moment at the door then looked at you, her leathered thumb brushed some dirt away from your cheeks. Before you thought something was going to happen you could hear Angie's cough from the other side, you pushed it open to find Angie in her rocking chair in the main room.

As if she read both of your minds she waved her hand, "don't worry about me. Water went down the wrong tube, now....what happened to you?" She asked when she finally looked up.

"Um.." You started.

"You know what? I don't wanna know. Go clean up before you drag mud on my freshly mopped floor. That goes for you too. Just because you might be a lord doesn't mean you're above a walloping either. I have many years to catch up on." Angie threatened.

Donna looked at you then took your hand again and gave it a kiss, "shall we do this again?"

You nodded your head and felt the heat on your face again, you secretly hated how easily flustered she made you. Donna removed her boots, you did the same, then went your separate ways to get washed up for dinner. Thoughts ran wild, you couldn't stop thinking about the way Donna looked at you or how soft her lips were. Everything about her made your heart flutter, and suddenly your thoughts stumbled into more...invasive territory; how her lips would feel against yours, what her skin felt like, but Angie's cough broke you out before your thoughts went even deeper.

The next day you tried to catch a peak at whatever she was working on but she kept the workshop door shut. That was until she scared the living daylights out of you in her office: you had been dusting when you turned around to find her hovering nearby with her finger raised as if she were about to poke you. Angie wasn't feeling well, which meant you had to do the chores by yourself, that included running errands for Donna. She handed you a list, some lei, and whispered a quiet thank you before rushing out of her office.

The walk was cold, and wet, the fog seeped down to your bones causing a shiver to travel up your spine. This was the last thing you wanted to do, but how could you say no? Donna was your boss, and honestly, you don't know if you could say no to her. Anxiety crept up into your chest as you walked toward the village, you lost track of how long it had been since your incident. Donna didn't say anything more about it, Mother Miranda never came by, and Alcina nor her daughters called either. You hoped that everyone forgot about it. With a final shiver you arrived at the gate that separated the village from the manor, suddenly Donna's hermit habits made sense. Maybe she was rubbing off on you. Kind of ironic, at first you were terrified of the manor and now...you wanted nothing more to be in the safe, warm embrace of....it of course.

The gate into the village announced your arrival loudly, you cringed at the noise but no one else seemed to be bothered by it. You kept your head down with the hood of your jacket up until you found yourself at the Duke, he gave you a bright, welcoming smile. He had everything on your list, except one item that could only be obtained from one person: Lord Heisenberg. 

Continue Reading

[brandon-foster]

There was a chorus of sounds erupting from every pot and overhead pipe. It was almost like white noise at this point. Brandon had gone over the budget at least a hundred times, but somehow there was always something he missed. Collaborative efforts from maintenance workers or rather his friends and family, piled on top of the other noises. That did nothing to irritate him, at least not as much as his current standing did. The books needed a serious undertaking, and to make matters worse, they were going to be further behind than they already were.

The business had started with good intentions. Owning a restaurant had been his dream for a time, and while he wasn’t the most skilled chef on staff he was the best at working with others. His memory had been impeccable, always remembering customers, on top of strengths and weaknesses in his own kitchen and where to place new pieces. And for a time, it worked. It went without saying that many things had changed since then, the central most significant probably being the very thing that could make or break him, and did. Business was slowing, the decreasing traffic no doubt due to a new problem arising nearly every week. Brandon would never entertain the idea that he needed another person to help, much less ask for the help. Even if he never said it or even mustered the thought, it was obvious to everyone but him. It was missing the overhead direction of someone who wasn’t passing on logging books on account of being hungover.

Brandon was too stubborn and stuck in his pride to ask for the help he probably needed, but never picked up the phone to do so. Someone in another room dropped an object with a clumsy curse spat in the air, followed by the sound of splitting glass into marble tile. His eyes rolled and he let out a defeated sigh, mentally drained enough to let whatever damage occurred in the other room subside. He dropped a heavy head into his palms, the pen between his fingers dropping on the desk below him. As if it were routine, Brandon asked himself if this was what he really wanted, if it was even feasible. Sometimes it felt like he was keeping the location just for the spite.

Already he heard their guilty whispers and attempts to clean whatever mess they made before he noticed, but someone else had already arrived. Someone worse to face the repercussions of a mess, someone whose father probably funded whatever they ruined in there. He knew she was here because the buzzer had been held for just the right amount of time she knew would piss him off, enough time for his clumsy “maintenance” workers to get the hint that they really fucked up, to which they shuffled around in a panic. It was just the icing on the cake that they had changed the locks.

Trading one stress for another, Brandon quickly moved from the squeaky desk chair to head for the back door, wiping his hands on his black apron almost like a forethought. He mentally prepared for the vitriol she was about to spit at him for even changing the locks without telling her, a move he’d forgotten to share with her due to complacency.

“Fuck. My bad. ” When he did prop the silver door open he leaned, placing the other arm of the wall for foundation. “Locksmith came a few days ago, I forgot to give you the extra keys.” He gruffed, moving out so she could come in, as if that would do anything to appease her. Already in his mind he tried to figure out how to get her through the kitchen to his office without the presence of glass. “I didn’t know if you were coming in to do the deposit, you should’ve called, I haven’t seen you in like, two weeks. Its just a..bad time right now.”

[ask-de-writer]

WIND MEETS THE ROM : Part 4 of 27 :

MLP Fan Fiction

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WIND MEETS THE ROM

Part 4 of 27

by

De Writer (Glen Ten-Eyck)

Cover art by @wind-the-mama-cat

54212 words

© 2023 by Glen Ten-Eyck

Writing begun 06/01/18

All rights reserved. This document may not be copied or distributed on or to any medium or placed in any mass storage system except by the express written consent of the author.

//////////////

Copyright fair use rules for Tumblr users

Users of Tumblr.com are specifically granted the following rights. They may reblog the story provided that all author and copyright information remains intact. They may use the characters or original characters in my settings for fan fiction, fan art works, cosplay, or fan musical compositions.

All sorts of fan art, cosplay, music or fiction is actively encouraged.

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New to the story? Read from Part 1, here!

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With the pot opened, he carefully examined the contents. He stirred up a small sample on a small clean spoon of silver. He sniffed it carefully and nodded sagely. “I have seen this before, once. De Writer and I were a few worlds away, doing a demon stomp. Some of the local healers used this. It works really well where you have to open an abscess and drain it. Then you wash it out and apply this to the inside of the abscess. It heals it right up.”

Wind's ears pricked up and she inquired archly, “What were you doing stomping demons on some other world?”

He looked up and said seriously, “Defending this one. It is sort of important to me, since I and my family live here.”

Wind shook her head. “How is fighting demons on some other world defending this one?”

The old donkey lifted his ears in amusement as he pointed out, “The best place to defend your real estate is on someone else's real estate. Keeps yours from getting all trampled in the fight! If you do it right, the ones whose real estate you do trample will even thank you for the favor.”

Wind was quietly dumbfounded by the sheer elegance of the notion. Still, she couldn't really help sniping, “Just how do they thank you? I am sure that mere words would not be enough.”

The old donkey grinned hugely at some private joke as he nodded. “So right! Spoken like a true adventurer! Amazing how gold can prove the sincerity of thanks!”

He turned toward his caravan and flipped his tail as he suggested, “Follow me. I am going to show you where to put your things and where you will sleep while we have you under observation.”

As Wind was following him into the caravan, she was hit by a memory. “What did you mean about Mama Dragon's sense of humor? Have you ever met her?”

“Yep. Several times. Lovely dragon. One of the best Watchers that your world has ever had. She even gets along with those Spirits that sort of run things there.”

Gesturing with an ear and a tilt of his head, Marchhare pointed out a sleeping stall inside the caravan. “Here is where you will rest of nights until we are sure that you are healing properly. There is a locker at the head of the stall for your things.”

Wind's sense of the uncanny was screaming alarms in her mind. She checked again. There was no mistake. There was a dining table fixed to one wall so that it could be raised and lowered out of the way. There were seats for four that also folded neatly away when not in use There was a compact kitchen space. There were four sleeping stalls, a window on each side and a door at the front, opposite from the one that they had entered by. She had seen the caravan several times where she could see the front and there was no door on the front of it.

Black Lotus was behind her and in spite of the sheer size of the lovely black and white horse, there was plenty of room! Wind could hear her snickering at her reaction to the seemingly huge interior. Wind noticed one other thing that made no sense. The inside was far higher than the caravan appeared on the outside. Black Lotus' long horn had plenty of room under the caravan roof.

Carefully hanging onto her composure, Wind observed, “No wonder you were familiar with bags of holding. You live in a Caravan of Holding!”

Marchhare and Black Lotus both giggled. Marchhare offered, “Pretty close. Whole different principle but the effect is much the same.”

Wind unfolded one of the sturdy folding seats and sat down. “Would it be asking too much to inquire exactly what I am in, if not a Holding Spell?”

Gone immediately serious, Marchhare took a seat too. He gestured to the door at the front of the caravan. “This is the tip of an iceberg, sort of. Technically, this caravan is a nexus of the entire Multiverse. If you know how to use it, you can go ANYWHERE at all. That includes some very dangerous places and some that are purely idyllic. Most are in between, somewhere. De Writer set it up for us both to use a long time ago, around six hundred years ago, roughly.”

He gestured at the door at the front of the caravan. “Going past that door will lead to what appears to be a huge maze of corridors, stairs and doors. Black Lotus did tell you that it is easy to get lost in there. If you stick to using just the nearby clearly marked doors there are lots of useful places and things that can be accessed.

“For now, use a guide if you want to go past that door.”

Wind digested that thoughtfully. “How can it possibly work? It can go anywhere? What about taking me home to Mama Dragon's cottage?”

Old Marchhare regarded her for an unsettling few moments before answering, “It can. That is how I have been to your world and met Mama Dragon. It may not be a good idea to go that way, though. She likely had her excellent reason for sending you the way that she did and for getting you back the way that she wants to do it. She is very wise.”

Wind sighed, “I do know that. So what now?”

“So we monitor you carefully and use Mama Dragon's remedies on you. You need to go easy on those wounds due to the inflammation but it is imperative that you do exercise some.”

Wind pretended injured innocence, placing her hand over her heart, as she proclaimed, “Oh, vile slave driver! You mean that I don't get to loll back in padded ease and nibble delicacies?”

There was gentle laughter from behind her. The chestnut sorrel mare, Hoof Dancer, had entered the caravan behind them. The interior of the smallish caravan was still not crowded. Hoof Dancer nuzzled her shoulder and told Wind, “That was exactly the right thing to say. I think that you will fit in just fine, while you are here.”

She used her magic to rummage in a richly carved chest and pull out a mottled brown and green cloak. After examining it carefully, she draped it over Wind's shoulders, so that it covered her missing arm.

“Here, my dear Wind, is a cloak proper to an adventurer such as yourself. In it you will be hard to see yet you will see easily.”

Wind felt the softness of the lining where lighter and darker rich browns chased each other with each shift of the fabric in the light.

Black Lotus nodded appreciatively, “That cloak will be perfect for you, Wind. Shansa Na Kili will be delighted that her fine weaving has found such a good use.”

Turning to her father, she suggested, “I have been thinking about Wind's inflammation, father. Perhaps we could make some small cuts along the inflamed nerve and introduce Mama Dragon's salve into them. That might greatly reduce or even cure the problem.”

He paused, thinking carefully. “You know, that is not a bad idea at all. If Wind consents, we could take her into surgery room one and do it all in under an hour. Then, as quick as the small cuts heal over some, she could begin to exercise properly.”

He grinned as he added, “Her idea of proper exercise and ours might differ a good bit, though.”

Wind snickered. “I do expect so. In spite of that, I will follow your recommendations. So, I get to see some of what is beyond the Great Door of Mystery?”

Black Lotus snorted, “Yes, but not much. Later, I will show you some of the more amusing places that we use, like my sewing room, for instance.”

Wind blinked. “What is so amusing about a sewing room? I mean other than it being in a one room caravan?”

Black Lotus smiled and replied, “You will see for yourself, but later. Now, I need to put you to sleep for the surgery.”

Wind felt herself held in that gentle seeming blue magic. There was a light touch, up high on the side of her neck.

Wind blinked a few times and looked about, trying to get her bearings. She was laying in one of those Rom sleeping stalls and covered by blankets. It took only a second to sort out that she was in the sleeping stall that Marchhare had showed her earlier as her sleeping space.

Her right side ached a little and itched. Questing fingers found a line of bandages that ran from her middle part way around her side. Remembering Mama Dragon's many bandagings of small kittenhood bangs and bumps, she carefully pulled her hand away from the bandages. Itch or not, you do not scratch bandages.

She heard a gentle voice observe, “Wind is awake, now. She is conscious and alert. She checked the bandages but did not scratch.”

Marchhare's head popped into view around the end of the stall. “You are doing really well, Wind. You need to stay reasonably still there for about another hour. That salve of Mama Dragon's is doing a great job.

“While you wait, Black Lotus will show you our spice chest, so that you can choose the ones that you think will do well in your food. OK?”

Wind nodded enthusiastically.

Black Lotus settled in comfortably at the foot of the stall and her magic brought over a small, ornately carved chest with many drawers. The two were soon engrossed in the task of sorting out what spices and seasonings would go well with which meats, poultry or fish.

The hour simply flew by. Black Lotus' magic gently picked up Wind and put her on her feet.

“It is time for you to begin gentle exercise, Wind. I promised to show you my sewing room and some of the other rooms beyond that mysterious door.”

Wind paused long enough to get her new cloak and set around her shoulders. “There. Ready for almost anything. Lead on, Black Lotus.”

Snickering, the big black and white unicorn opened the door. Wind was mildly taken aback and intrigued by the seemingly endless corridor that did not in any way appear on the outside of the caravan. Only a short way down the passage there was a red line painted across its floor. There were about a dozen doors packed into the walls leading up to that red line. They were all labeled in a beautiful script of tall and shorter vertical lines with loops and strokes connected to them along a center line.

With an impish grin, Black Lotus lead Wind past the red line and then down a flight of steps to a different apparent level and selected a door. Watching Wind for her reaction, she opened it.

Wind blinked several times but what she saw was still there. The door opened onto a dock. Tied up to the dock was a thirty meter long ironclad monster of a ship! It had bow and stern turrets sporting three guns each. They appeared to be around a hundred millimeter bores. Along the sides of the vessel were a number of smaller weapons, barrels protruding through metal shields.

The whole ship and dock was enclosed in a long room. Wind's sharp eyes noticed huge doors at the far end of the room. She pointed to them and asked, “Are those how you got this thing in here? Where did it come from?”

Black Lotus nodded, “Those are the doors that dad used to get it in here, all right. Dad helped to repel a demon invasion in the Chineighs Empire. The Pirate Queen, Qushie Han Lee, who owns the Chineighese navy, gave him this river monitor as a gift.”

Wind started to ask, “How . . .” and stopped herself. She leaned back out the door and looked at the maze of corridors, cross corridors a stairs going both up and down. Nodding to herself, she pointed, “THAT'S how! Where all do these corridors and doors go?”

Black Lotus shrugged. “Literally anywhere. Not only on this world, either. Dad says that it is completely infinite. All of these doors and corridors are a sort of window dressing to make it easier for ones like us to use.

“Now, I promised to show you my sewing room. It is back there on the caravan side of the red line.”

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[pascalepalaces]

"The Other People" in Maudlin House:

PASCALE POTVIN x OCTOBER 14, 2020 x FICTION

The screams upstairs were distinctly Ivory. “Ew- Dad! Kill it! Kill it!” she cried.

“Where is it?” August returned, clunky sigh accompanying.

“The bathroom.”

“Okay, get out of there. Don’t let Ninie see.”

He could hear it, too, by the time that he reached the head of the stairs—and halfway through opening the door he hit its shrunken leg, earning an accented groan. Fuck, he thought to himself: it’s probably on the rug.

He found it’d drooled quite a bit as he shuffled into the room, and so he grabbed it by its white roots and began the drag toward the bathtub. Thankfully, this one was smaller than most he’d seen before.

Its groans were almost angry as he pushed it into the cast iron—and he thought about the day that one had appeared already there, it’s head right beside the drain. It was the only time he had laughed, imagining that it might have been trying to make up for the inconvenience. He’d been reminded, almost, of a centipede that’d crawled all the way up and out their plumbing, only to then respect the tub walls… although maybe a worm, from a wormhole, might have been a better analogy.

“Iv, can you throw me the mallet?” he called, his vision honing too.

The disposal crew arrived around forty minutes after his call. Two teenaged-looking boys were carrying the body bag down the stairs, and then out through the front door as he signed the paperwork.

“We offer a clean-up upstairs too, now, for a small charge,” offered the woman with the clipboard once he’d returned it.

“What? Are you kidding me?” August replied. “First you guys cut the injection for budget, and now you’re making more from all the messes?”

She shrugged, surely too used to the question.

“Where exactly are my tax dollars going, again?” he urged. “You’re kinda making me feel like a monster, here, y’know.”

“Thank you, sir,” she said, and she stepped back toward the door. Her eyes caught at a small distance behind him just before she turned, however—and August spun with his instinct to the kitchen, where his youngest daughter was still staring.

“Fuck,” he grumbled. He lowered his tone further—his body, too—when he approached. “Ninie, what are you doing down in here? You didn’t finish your colors, did you?”

Little Eponine only stared upward, her eyes in full pout.

“Are you a monster, Dad?” she asked, just as he’d feared.

“No,” he said. “Of course, no.”

“Are they?”

“No, no. They won’t ever hurt you.”

“Then why do you always have to kill them?”

August took her by the hand, led her to the couch.

“Did your teacher ever explain any of this to you?” he asked, placing her on his lap.

She shook her head.

Well, of course she hasn’t, he thought. He might’ve filed a complaint if she had.

“You’re right that killing is usually a really, really bad thing to do,” he said, sinking his hands into Eponine’s hair. “The difference here is that these people—I mean, the sort of people, I guess—they’re not supposed to be here.”

“Why not?”

“We all think there must have been some sort of mistake, like a black hole, or something similar… you know about those from your space kitty show, right?” She nodded in his hands. “One of those is making them come here, sometimes.”

“When they die?”

“Right.” And he caressed her under the ears. “But you have to remember it’s not them, they’re not really people. They’re really bad copies… just like how our scanner turns all of your pretty drawings to just black in white.” Eponine giggled, at that comparison: it cushioned his insides.

August had considered asking Ivory to lay out the concept as she had for one school project—when she had compared all the weak copies to researchers’ past attempts at human cloning. He well remembered the tears she’d shed at her sister’s age, afraid that these ‘people’ had come to ‘heaven’ only to be slaughtered. It’d given her relief to understand that it was more than likely impossible to copy memories, that their bodies were nothing but shells.

“It hurts them to be here,” he further explained to his littlest angel. “They don’t fit. They’d die again super fast, just because their organs are just weak and too small.” The fact varied with how the originals had died, of course: sometimes their copies came paralyzed, and with especially shriveled hearts, or with wounds in their abdomens, and the like. It was always hard to tell without close study, because no matter how they’d passed they came looking more withered than any natural human could.

Eponine stuck her head into her father’s shoulder, at that. “And they’re from that different version of where we live?” she asked.

“Yeah. You got it.”

“So are there other versions, too? Or that one, only?”

“There could be. They could be coming from dozens of them. We just don’t know.”

As much as she could, the girl wrapped her arms around him.

“In all the other worlds out there, are you also my daddy?” she mumbled.

“Yes, of course,” August smiled, and he returned her hug. “No matter how many.”

Yet holding her, he could which question was still lingering in the little soul. Was there any universe, out there, in which her mother—Ivory’s mother—still existed?

The last time that August had ever seen Rosaline… it hadn’t been Rosaline at all. He’d been taking his eldest out the door, out toward the bus stop, and there his not-wife had been: on her side on one of the outer steps, flailing her legs and gulping. Ivory had recognized her, unfortunately, just before August could pull her back inside.

They’d both stayed home, that day: she because of the distress, he because the occurrence would be the only time he’d see Rosaline white-haired and wrinkled. He’d had to keep his eyes on the blurring trees as he’d eventually sedated her.

It wasn’t irregular for one to come across lesser versions of their loved ones, sadly—no matter if they were presently dead or alive. Quickly after the copies had first begun to appear, it was deduced they’d probably kept the coordinates of their originals, even if what was a home in that reality was in this one a construction site (unfortunate events had occurred in cases such as those).

August had been dreading, like most, the day he might come across himself… and he did, just as he was intending to fetch his laptop from his bedroom. The thing was on the carpet next to his closet, a waned but recognizable self: and it looked up at him with half-shut eyes, making noises muffled with drool.

August took a moment, heavy-chested, and then he took the needed steps forward. He pulled his hand back, his fingers mostly sweat, then quivered at the small voice behind the door.

“Daddy? When is dinner gonna be done?” came Ninie’s quiet melody.

“Soon, honey,” he told her, his mouth a dry bed. “Go help your sister downstairs.”

Only after hearing the fading creaks of the stairs did he turn back toward his other-self. He noticed that it, too, had turned its head toward the door; yet it was staring, still, and something was wholly indisputable in its eyes.

August had never known any other love that strong.

“Do you…do you know her?” he mumbled, in that next moment, from a quickly flattening soul.

But the other self only grunted at him. It grunted, over and over… and, at first, it sounded as if something—more emotion—was still incoming.

Yet the rumbling was degrading every time, and it was fading gradually, and it was less and less and less recognizable.

[prathapokleaslevelmediastudies]

Storyline

Research and Planning

This is my storyline.

Eva the protagonist is a dedicated self made designer .

 laying on her bed with an emotionless face and she looks at the stick note placed on the wall addressing that the design needs to be submitted on 26 of September in her mind she should have been done with the draft but, in those starting days all she did was sat in a dark room with a table lamp in  front of a blank sheet and laptop screen staring at it for an hour rethinking and questioning all the decision she took, tries to sketch something but crumbles it and throws it away in a over flooded trash can .  breathes and gets up hopelessly climbing up her bed. She's on a bed moving like a child in a womb as if she's growing like a baby. a message pops up on her phone from her boss regarding the status of the project.

 She goes to the kitchen and her phone notification comes up “5 missed calls from Sam” her boyfriend she fills a glass with water and the phone rings MOM calling she cuts the call and moves. Days passed with those sleepless nights where she wanted to work and finish the task, but her mind and soul was drained out. as a single day passed, she drew a cross on the calendar. 

a day later Suddenly her bell rings and she open the door looking at her boyfriend with baggy eyes and dark circles, opens the door. He comes in, they have a huge fight, and he leaves. Her phone rings, mom calling, she picks and shouts at her and says, “why are you calling me again and again if I'm not picking up the call that means I'm busy”. The bell rings and she get up, opens and finds a parcel on the doorstep.

 She slid the door, but it was slightly open. She gets the parcel in and tries to open it, takes a knife as the parcel is packed tightly it doesn't open easily. She throws the parcel towards a shelf, and it falls. she looks at the knife then her wrist repeats this for two times and then she looks at herself in the mirror and has an emotional breakdown. She gets up, goes in front of the sink and washes her face trying to calm herself down but the tears are not stopping. followed by her laying on her bed. Suddenly a man comes into the room and touches her hair softly (flashback: she slides the door, but it is slightly open).

She looks at him and feels a sense of relief knowing that he was Sam. Eva asks him “why are you here, i told you not to come”. He was quiet, cleaning her room, opening the curtains and arranging all the mess on her desk. He went into the kitchen and started preparing coffee for her, came into her room and placed the coffee on the desk, played a song and changed the dead sunflower with the fresh ones. She gets up and hugs him from behind as she hears the lyrics Loving and fighting, accusing, denying I can't imagine a world with you gone, hold on by chord Overstreet. She goes back to her work (fade through black). 

They are sitting on the sofa in a cozy blanket watching a movie notebook, a half-eaten pizza box and a glass of coke placed on the coffee table. Suddenly a mail pops up from her client addressing how brilliantly her work was. She's feeling happy and grateful, she looks at Sam and smile and he kisses her on the forehead and says, “I'll always be here.” 

End 

The images are added for visual representation only.

[kuche7]

Farah Khan’s Kitchen Transformation: The Magic Of Mint-Black-White

How did filmmaker and choreographer Farah Khan go from a broken wooden kitchen to a beautiful and elegant mint green kitchen within a matter of a few weeks?

Parallel Kitchen for an Efficient Workflow

Under-Cabinet Lighting for a Bright and Inviting Atmosphere

Marble Walls for a Luxurious Touch

Hidden Profile Handles and Soft-Touch Closing for a Sleek Look and Feel

Overhead Chimney for Effective Ventilation and Lighting

PDR Unit and Pull-Out Pantry for Customized Storage

Farah Khan’s Delight On The Completion Of Her Kitchen

Parallel Kitchen for an Efficient Workflow

Farah Khan had a parallel kitchen that we had to work with. The best part about the kitchen was how much space it had. The countertops were spacious, and there was enough distance between the two countertops to move about freely. Despite the parallel kitchen, it did not feel cramped. By placing the cooktop and sink on opposite sides of the kitchen, we made sure that there was enough space to move around the kitchen with ease and safety.

Under-Cabinet Lighting for a Bright and Inviting Atmosphere

To enhance the ambiance and functionality of the kitchen, we installed under-cabinet lighting that illuminates the countertops and highlights the mint-black-white combination of the kitchen. The soft glow of the LED lights creates a warm and inviting atmosphere that makes the kitchen more welcoming and practical.

Marble Walls for a Luxurious Touch

To add a touch of luxury and elegance to the kitchen, we used black marble tiles for the walls behind the cooktop and sink. The natural veins and patterns of the marble create a stunning visual effect that elevates the kitchen's design and adds value to the home.

Hidden Profile Handles and Soft-Touch Closing for a Sleek Look and Fee

To achieve a clean and minimalist look, we used hidden profile handles that blend seamlessly with the cabinet doors and drawers. This design detail adds a touch of sophistication and practicality, as it eliminates the need for protruding handles that can catch on clothing or bump into people. We also installed soft-touch closing mechanisms that ensure the doors and drawers close smoothly and silently, without slamming or making a sound.

Overhead Chimney for Effective Ventilation and Lighting

To eliminate smoke and odor during cooking and ensure proper ventilation, we installed an overhead chimney that extracts the fumes and steam from the cooktop and vents them outside. This not only improves the air quality and safety of the kitchen but also provides extra lighting for the workspace.

PDR Unit and Pull-Out Pantry for Customized Storage

To optimize the storage capacity and organization of the kitchen, we designed a combination of cabinets and units. We also installed a tall unit that accommodates the oven and microwave at eye level and a PDR (Plate and Dry Rack) unit that allows you to drain your crockery. Placed above the sink, it works perfectly to dry your utensils without leaving them in the open. To keep the pantry items organized and reachable, we added a pull-out pantry that slides out like a drawer and offers multiple shelves and baskets for different food and supplies.

Farah Khan’s Delight On The Completion Of Her Kitchen

On completion of the kitchen renovation, Farah Khan showed off her new kitchen and said:

"As you can see, everything is stainless steel, and I am just amazed. I would recommend Kuche7 not only to all my friends but also to all of you. I think I’m going to become their brand ambassador because I am absolutely delighted with my kitchen. Now I just have to train my staff because they're so used to the old kitchen that it has to be very gentle, and I think a lot more Farah ki daawat are going to happen from this kitchen.”

[imyourbratzdoll]

andy barber cheating on his wife, reader with his assistant. heartbreak and divorce request

thanks for sending this. I hope this is exactly what you wanted.

summary - andy has been cheating on his wife. do you think he took it too far this time?

warning - angst, so much angst, swearing, andy is a dick.

𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 2 - 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 3

the gif isn't mine, divider by @newlips

They say heartbreak really fucks with you.

I didn’t think that was true until my husband came home a few days ago.

-FLASHBACK-

I’m standing in the kitchen, preparing dinner. It’s a bit late to make dinner, but Andy’s been working late. He had to get a new assistant because the late one quit. But like anyone who trusts their partner, I didn’t think much of it.

I hear Andy’s car pull into the driveway, then the sound of the front door opening and then being slammed shut. Andy walks into the kitchen, and I go to greet him, but his appearance catches me off guard. His hair and clothes are dishevelled, lipstick stains all over his neck and shirt collar, the real shock out of all of that, though, was the gold band missing from his ring finger.

Steadying myself, I clean my hands before turning to face him completely. Regretting it immediately as a waft of a strong horrible floral scent hits me, entering my entire being. My stomach churns, and I hold back from throwing everything up. I start to speak. “I’m going to ask you something, and you will answer it honestly.”

He grunts, obviously not happy, taking a sip from the beer he grabbed. “Who is she…?” He glares at me over the bottle, “who is who?” I look at him in disbelief, “the whore you ruined this marriage for? Hmm?” I pause to tap my chin for dramatic effect, “wait, let me guess, it’s your bimbo assistant, right?” The look on his face says it all.

“So what if it is? It’s not like it matters. You’re the worst wife in the fucking world. You expect me to what? Pass up something good just because I married you? I have needs, you stupid bitch. I’m not going to pass up some hot piece of ass. She’s so much better than you! I should tell you all about what she lets me do to her that you don’t. She feels so fucking good, whether I’m deep inside of her pussy or her mouth. Better than you ever did.” He pauses to take a sip of his drink, and tears are building in my eyes. It’s becoming harder to breathe the more he talks.

“Could it hurt for you to lose some fucking weight?! I mean, it’s another reason I fucked her. She’s thinner than you. Fuck she’s even prettier than you.” He walks closer to me, “you’re so fucking ugly, y/n, and you want to know something? No one will ever fucking love you because you’re nothing. And that’s why you will never leave me.” He smirks while I feel my heart breaking, all of the rage that was built up inside of me has slowly been drained out of me, and everything just starts to become numb. 

My voice cracks, “I’m done…. We’re done… I can’t... I can’t do this anymore… I loved you so fucking much, Andy. I was there when you heard about your son’s death! I was fucking there!” Tears fall. I try to breathe. “I fucking trusted you! I gave you my fucking heat, and you just…. You just… oh my god.” Covering my mouth with my hand as it all catches up to me.

His smirk disappears, and he growls. He moves closer to me and grabs me by my throat. “No, you’re not fucking done. Stacy will be here for dinner, and you will do your fucking wife duties, and serve us dinner. Do you understand?” When I don’t reply, he squeezes. I quickly nod, fear and tears in my eyes.

He backs up, smirking. Andy sits, watching me while he drinks his beer. I quickly return to dinner, trying to distract myself from the monster behind me. After a while, I hear someone coming through the front door, and my heart drops. He gave her a key…. 

I close my eyes as the sound of her heels clicking on the floor fills my ears. The closer it gets, the closer I feel that this is my hell. She enters the room, and her shrill voice bounces off the wall. “Hey, baby!” the squeal that exits her mouth could shatter glass. She jumps into his arms, wrapping her legs around his waist, and the sound of kissing reaches my ears. The tears that I tried holding back slowly fall down my cheeks. I can hear the sound of my heart cracking inside my chest.

I jump as Andy growls at me, “hurry up and serve us dinner, you worthless piece of shit.” I quickly wipe the tears away before picking up the dish and heading to the table. I serve them while they hold smirks on their face, clearly happy at the sight of me broken. The bimbo…. Sorry assistant taps her glass, “uh, hello? Aren’t you going to offer me a drink?” I grab her glass and move away to fill it up, hearing whispers being exchanged between the two. Pouring her the drink, I return to the table, wishing I could be anywhere but here as I can see their hands moving under it. Smiles are shared as they stare into each other’s eyes.

Once I put her drink on the table, I stand back and lean against the counter, and I watch as they dig in. The life I had with Andy flashed before my eyes. The first time meeting him was at this cute little coffee shop, and we bumped into each other. At first, I thought it was like the movies, where you meet the love of your life, then helped him get through the death of his son and everything that happened with his ex-wife Laurie, the first time he asked me out on a date and then the many after that. 

The day he got down on one knee and proposed, when we said ‘I do’, to the time I recently took the pregnancy test, and then now. I’m brought back from the memories by the sound of coughing and choking coming from the two people across from me. I softly smile, watching Andy and his whore stare at me with wide eyes, almost pleading. I step towards them. 

“Andy, I want a divorce.”

-PRESENT-

Thinking back to that day hurts. It was one of the worst heartbreaks I’ve ever been through, and thoughts now run through my head. ‘Why’d he have to hurt me?’, ‘was I so hard to love? I wish I were good enough.’ But I guess that’s how my life was supposed to go.

Unloved, pregnant and alone.

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

[p-antomime]

Call.

ㅤ— minors don’t interact. ┊ wc: 2,8K.

ㅤcontent + warnings: 18+, including: faux sympathy dom!wakasa, nicknames, praise + degradation kink, public sex, humiliation kink, power imbalance, hints of pervy!wakasa, panties stealing, exhibitionism, fingering, obsessive behavior.

ㅤpairings: yandere!imaushi wakasa x f!reader.

request. ┊ part I.

tokyo rev. masterlist !

If Wakasa thought you were going to run into his arms and assume a relationship without a second thought after he broke into your home and pressed you against the bed to sink his cock into you as if you were a cocksleeve made to be used, he was sorely mistaken. He might have been the man controlling your body that night and proclaiming how you were his, his, his, but the controls were in the palm of your hand.

Proof of this was that the next day you ended up waking up earlier than he did by a sheer stroke of luck, because, truth be told, your body was drained of every last drop of physical and mental strength to keep you awake. It was like waking up refreshed, almost reborn after having someone slam your head against the wall repeatedly until you lost consciousness and as you groped around the side of the bed that was usually always unoccupied, with the exception of when your friends came to sleep at your place after a day that you both missed finishing college papers, you knew it hadn't just been a fever dream.

Wakasa himself looked like a man out of YandereDev's dreams with a dash of Marina's Power & Control and he looked even more angelic in deep sleep with his face turned to the side, hair falling to the pillow and cheeks like the waterfalls of Gullfoss, lips ajar, pulling in and out air calmly, and one hand half holding half squeezing your thigh.

He probably thought that if you woke up before he did, you would try to go to college on your own and put his hand on one of your legs in an attempt to have you by his side as soon as he woke up, but it was too bad that you were too good at making little noise and moving only as much as necessary when getting up from a bed with another person on the other side. You could blame this on the countless times that you genuinely unintentionally ended up waking your friend sleeping in your bed and she cussed you out in a bad morning mood.

While Wakasa was sleeping like a baby, you were going to shower in an almost humanly impossible speed, especially after your eyes saw the hours of day. The first college class of the day was probably already over, so you would have to make an effort to at least make it to your other classes and extracurricular activities, which meant that in less than 30 minutes you went from your room to the kitchen while your hands shoved your college uniform anyway over your body and made a mediocre, hastily made breakfast.

The only thing you even signaled to Wakasa before you left the house and left the front door keys on the nightstand was to leave a small note saying that you wanted him to clean up the mess he had made, that is: the bed and your clothes and his from the night before all over the floor that you hadn't had time to pick up.

In the half hour it took you to get to the college and shamelessly enter the lecture hall, he stirred in your bed and slowly woke up taking a few seconds to understand where he was. His mind going over the previous night in a flash of blinding lucidity and hand automatically searching for your body on the bed, a frustrated groan coming from his lips as soon as he realized that not even your shadow was home yet. Wakasa didn't even remember that it was still a weekday and that he himself still had to attend class.

Long minutes after he read your note and put it away behind the cover of his cell phone, he looked around for the mess you mentioned and, like a good puppy, obeyed your commands.

Bed perfectly tidied and no remnants of crumpled clothes on the floors, your room now looked perfectly tidy.

Before he started to put on the same clothes as the night before for lack of much choice, his eyes crossed the entire place and landed on your closet. An idea lit up his troubled head and seconds later he was kneeling in front of the drawers looking for which one your panties were in.

His mouth salivated and eyes sparkled as soon as he found several clean panties tucked away in one of those precious drawers.

— Oh, how cute. — Wakasa picked up a lacy pink panty made of soft fabric and smelling of fabric softener. — You won't mind if I take this as a gift, right? — A small chuckle escaped his lips before his other hand took another of her panties and slid them both into one of his pants pockets. — Obviously not. — His tongue flicked across his lips before he used the keys to the front door of the house to exit the residence.

Wakasa stopped by his own house to take a long shower and change clothes before heading off to college, texting you on the way several times.

No reply, he was getting annoyed.

"Can't you even use your own cell phone for that anymore, Y/N?", he thought, looking at the subway stations passing more slowly than they actually were. Chronos, just like you, was not by his side today.

It was almost a long torture for Wakasa to have to stand in that subway uncomfortably watching the stations pass by on the glowing signal screen without even a message from you arriving on his cell phone's radar. At first he thought maybe you were just out of battery, but as soon as his feet were off the subway car, up all the flights of stairs leading to the college district and around the second corner from the institution building, like a stroke of luck, or lack thereof, he spotted you 'online', possibly responding to someone else's messages.

Deep breath. Once, twice, three times. Wakasa didn't want to lose patience, not with you, but he needed your attention. He needed it to feel his heart beating fast, his arteries and pupils dilating, the platonic passion consuming to the very ends of his soul. Without you, what was left in him?

At the college entrance, he spent long seconds wondering where exactly you might be around campus. Amphitheater? Library? Auditorium? Labs? Yes, yes, yes, maybe. The range of possibilities irritated him more than he expected.

If only you would return his messages, maybe his mood wouldn't be so bad.

In the end, Wakasa didn't come to you promptly, but one of your friends that he knew was always hanging around the college courts for extracurricular activities that she thought would be great for some kind of future resume.

She knew and disliked him and so the very moment he stepped onto the court, your friend immediately turned her back on the heavy doors through which he had entered and walked to the women's locker room.

"Dumbass bitch", Wakasa muttered following the girl without bothering to greet the boys waving from the bleachers.

She walked into the locker room almost tripping over her own feet, he flattened his hand on the door and held it open with a serious countenance without really giving a hoot inside.

— Where is she?

— Who said I know? — His friend answered, crossing her arms, and Wakasa squinted his eyes.

— If I have to go inside this locker room, you won't like it. — He spoke with eyebrows raised in a thinly veiled threat. — Library or amphitheater?

— I thought you--

— Answer.

With a weary sigh, your friend answered a: "Library, dammit", before Wakasa turned around and let the locker room door slam against the doorframe without the slightest bit of politeness.

Obviously it was going to be the library. As always, as the first time.

He walked briskly across the campus as fast as possible, and as soon as he reached his final destination, he made an effort to greet the two girls who were always taking care of book returns, loans and exchanges.

Unlike the other times Wakasa had had to go and get something from that huge library, the tables on both the first and second floors were full of other students, even the small, low chairs in the center of the place were. All he had to do was look for you; and you were on the second floor talking to a group of about four people he didn't know.

Your head turned to the side while your mouth was still focused on speaking whatever the subject of the conversation you were having with those people was. Eyes locked, a small smile of satisfaction appeared on his lips, your countenance remained nonchalant even though nervousness began to race through your veins and butterflies, to rise in the pit of your stomach.

The people you were talking to didn't even seem to notice or care about Wakasa's attentive gaze on them, they were too busy paying attention to the divine angel before their eyes, in this case: you.

It was always you, you, you, even in Imaushi Wakasa's mind. He knew better than anyone what it was like to want to spend long hours just watching you and admiring your actions and reactions, but to have other people with the same privilege as him annoyed him. And more than that: you pretending that absolutely nothing had happened the night before irritated him even more.

Even so, he waited impatiently for you to finish your conversation before he came over and pulled one of the chairs in front of the round table where the books you had rented were placed, to sit next to you.

— Needing something, Wakasa? — Your eyes rose to meet his, but they were already sliding from your lips to arms slowly.

— Don't you have a cell phone anymore? — He asked, leaning forward and resting one arm on the edge of the table.

Before you could answer, your cell phone vibrated on the table because of a call from a friend of yours and when you leaned over to pick it up, Wakasa simply leaned over a bit more, did what you wanted to and answered it.

— Yes? No, she’s busy. — His eyes locked on yours and you bit the inside of your cheek, holding back from snatching the phone from his hand and ruining part of your reputation as a good college girl. — Unfortunately, I don't think she'll be able to talk to you right now, we're just finishing up some things, y'know? Call her later, I'll tell her you called. — And then Wakasa hung up and ran the cell phone between his fingers before taking a deep breath. — Apparently, your battery was not dead.

— Can you... — A shiver ran down your back as his other hand came down on your thigh with a light squeeze, as if he was daring you to keep talking. — My cell phone, please? — You raised a palm in his direction and, differently from expected, Wakasa actually handed it over.

— Call her again, she sounded worried. — You looked from the cell phone to him and swallowed hard.

It was a trap you didn't know how to get out of.

— She can wait... she knows I’m busy studying and...

— Call. — Wakasa spoke more firmly than before as the fingers on your thigh pressed tighter against the skin.

Your shoulders tensed and it suddenly seemed difficult to swallow your saliva.

You slowly unlocked your cell phone and called your friend again, listening to the sounds of the call. Wakasa's fingers drumming against the inner skin of your thigh and eventually rising higher, higher, higher.

— Wakasa... — You started to speak still waiting for the call to be answered and he leaned toward you with his face resting on your shoulder and his hand between your legs deliberately ghosting over the buttons of your pants before unbuttoning them and pushing his way to the moral limit of the waistband and the edge of your panties.

— You shouldn't just pretend that I didn't fuck you yesterday and that you were moaning like a whore in heat. — The only thing that kept you from trying to press your thighs together was his hand between them with two fingers slowly rubbing your clit.

— W-What?! I don't-- — Before you could say anything for him, the call was answered and you swallowed hard.

Your other hand grabbed Wakasa's wrist between your legs in an attempt to get him to stop, as if it would have much effect. The only thing he did in response was to apply more fingertip pressure against your clit. The muscles in your thighs tensed as your friend began bombarding you with questions that you didn't even know how to answer because she seemed to be talking so fast.

Your brain was focusing too much on the pleasurable sensation of having Wakasa's fingers alternating pressure and circular motions over your sensitive heap of nerves and on how the bottom of your panties was starting to get more and more soaked.

"Are you fucking listening?!", your friend asked on the other end of the call as the man next to you glued his lips to your neck and jaw, leaving wet kisses, licks and light bites across the skin.

Afraid that she would hear the wet noises of him teasing your neck, you let go of his wrist and switched the phone from one hand to the other.

— Yes? — You blinked a few times trying to concentrate on whatever she was talking about. — Yes! Yes, I am. — You huffed nervously, Wakasa's fingers sliding through your folds and collecting your slick to spread it. — Sorry, I... this subject I have to study is so fucking hard and... — Wakasa's fingers threatened to slide into your pussy and you sighed before biting your lower lip anxiously. — Fuck, y’know, it's hard to concentrate on what I'm studying with someone shouting at the other end of the phone.

A small smile appeared on Wakasa's lips before he actually slid his fingers inside you and rubbed your swollen clit with the thumb. You desperately put your other hand over your lips trying to stifle the little moans that wanted to come out of the bottom of your throat without your permission.

"And you know what's hard too? Being chased by--", and then she started to say something that you only paid attention to as Wakasa's name was being quoted amidst the pile of swear words she let out on the other end of the cell phone line.

— Y-Yeah? — Your voice trailed off and you mentally cursed yourself as Wakasa's fingers began to fuck you as fast as your pants and panties would allow. — I know, yes, yes, I know! But...

She cursed again at the call and you let your head fall back trying not to concentrate on how well your walls were swallowing Wakasa's fingers, how your belly seemed to be floating because of your impending orgasm, how the adrenaline of the situation of being in a public place while being forced to talk on the phone made your senses many times sharper and begging for pleasure.

— Wakasa? — You called his name when she mentioned it again and he disengaged his swollen lips from your neck to pay attention for the first time in the conversation. — Him? N-No, I don't know where... — His fingers curved inside you, and just as a wave of enormous pleasure washed over your body, your hand accidentally dropped the cell phone to the floor.

You didn't even bother to pick it up, all you managed to do was spread your legs a little wider so that Wakasa could reach deeper points inside your dripping pussy.

— All fucked out 'cause of my fingers? You're so easy, angel. — He whispered loud enough for your friend, who was still on an active cell phone call, to hear, and then his voice lowered a little so that you could hear him: — Next time you pretend we have nothing, I'll fuck you in front of your entire classroom and let every one of those idiots film you being a slut, I'd love to trash your reputation and gatekeep you as my personal cocksleeve, is that what you want? — You shook your head negatively, although your pussy was clenching against his fingers with every spoken syllable. — Oh, no, no, that's exactly what you want, yes.

And then Wakasa's digits curved again and you barely managed to cover your mouth with hands before your body came in full, your slick wetting his palm even more and walls clenching massively as the tension in your body slowly eased and eyes rolled up.

When his fingers left you completely empty and went to his lips, the only thing you could do was desperately grab your cell phone and check if the call was still active. No, it had been disconnected. And you didn't know whether that was a good sign or not.

But maybe you should actually worry about letting Wakasa fingerfuck you in a library where most of the other students have cellphones and cameras.

ㅤ🏷 tagging: @festive @strawberrysanzu @bontensucker @wakasa-wifey @dukina @hirwishin @manjiroscum @inu1gf @manjiken @keisaint @ravenina14 @saaraunicorn @eriskaitto @ranilingus @dokidokimanji @mizurimirai @sleepy3 @kuroaka @slut4manjiro @zuuki .

[mari-the-bimbo]

Could you do dorm mate Gojo snapping at you after a rough day and feeling really guilty about it. So he tries to make it up to you, please.

Dorm mate! Gojo: he snaps at you

(ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

A/N: NOT DORM MATE GOJO DOING U DIRTY NOO 😭 It’s okay dorm mate Gojo I’d sweet bby trying his best <3

Gojo had never experienced such a shitty day in his entire life, today was shambles.

It felt like everyone was trying to start arguments with him today, picking fights with him over silly things, almost as if people forget Gojo has feelings too. It was overwhelming.

God, how he wishes those stupid people didn’t test his temper today, then maybe he wouldn’t have lashed out at you. That’s what ruined his day the most.

-

Gojo was in the dorm kitchen, swinging some red bull down his throat, hoping to feel better and more energised after all those idiots drained his energy.

“Gojo can you wash up your dishes please?” He hears you say as you enter the kitchen.

He has his back to you, not answering you, instead silently standing next to the fridge with a can in his hand.

He squeezed his eyes shut trying to cancel out your voice, it’s the last thing he needed right now. God please just stop-

“Gojo are you listening to me? You need to clean up your mess, Shoko and Utahime are coming over and the mes-“

“GOD JUST SHUT THE FUCK UP WILL YOU?! IF IT BOTHERS YOU SO MUCH, THEN PISS OFF!”

Silence fell over the room after his outburst.

You stared at him in shock. Did- did he really mean that?

You saw the instant guilt on his face as he stared back at you in shock of his own actions. But you didn’t want to stay for the incoming sorry ass excuse, so you walked out of the kitchen and no one has gone to check on you since.

-

God, he felt like bashing his head off the wall, how could he do that to you? You were his treasure, you literally hung the stars for him. You know that right? Right?

The thought of you hating him right now made his skin itch, his head hurt, he could take anyone else hating him, but you? Please no.

He sighs as he stood to his full height and walked over to your room, knowing he had to fix this. He may not be good at apologies, but this was the only way.

You mentally sighed as you heard the knock on your bedroom door, knowing exactly who it was. You were surprised Gojo knocked unlike the usual barging in.

But even though you didn’t answer the door, he slowly opened the door, entering your room that always seemed small compared to his height.

“Hey bubs” he said

“Get out” you snapped, you couldn’t even muster the courage look at him right now, knowing you’d cry if you did.

He didn’t react to your demand, only staring at you blankly, it was hard to decipher his emotions behind his black shades.

But instead of listening to you, he silently walked further into your room. You furrowed your eyebrows in anger, how could he snap at you like that and then act like nothing happened?

“Did you not hear me Gojo? I don’t want to see you right now, get out!” You snapped, attempting to kick him but he caught your foot, holding it firmly in his grasp.

But before you could even voice your confusion, he yanked you towards him by your foot.

“Gojo! What are you-“

“I’m so sorry my baby” he apologised, placing a kiss on your feet, making you blush.

“I didn’t mean to shout at you bubs, today was just a really bad day for me, I’m sorry you were the one I took it out on” he confessed genuinely.

It wasn’t often Gojo had a bad day enough to make him this worked up.

And just when you were about to argue back, he took off his black shades to reveal his tired, red eyes making you look at him in concern.

“You know I didn’t mean that right? Right?” He asked urgently, on the brink of a breakdown as he took your hands in his much larger hands.

As the tears built up in your eyes, you pull him into a hug, he finally smiles, wrapping his arms around your waist, pulling you both backwards to lie on your bed.

“Don’t ever scream at me again” you muttered as you hit his chest and nuzzled your face into his neck.

He chuckled at your antics while stroking your hair “I promise bubs”

[jbreenr]

𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐥𝐥

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale × Reader

Summary: You wanted to meet Ransom's family, he wanted to make sure you'd never want it again.

Word count: 3k.

Warning: Poorly written smut (+18 only, please), public sex (prompt 11), fingering, unprotected sex (don't do that, kids. be responsible), a bit of dirty talk, the Thrombeys being the Thrombeys. And I think that's it.

A/N: So, after finding out one of my stories was stolen an translated in Wattpad, I did not know if I should post this just yet but, what the hell? Let's do it. Anyway, this is for @stargazingfangirl18 and @navybrat817 's Shameless Hoes for Chris Challenge so, happy belated birthday! Yaaay. 🥳 Hope you like this at least a little and that it's not as bad as my paranoid brain thinks it is. Also, I just love how the prompts fit perfectly together, don't you? As always, lack of vocabulary and grammatical mistakes abound. *apologizes in español*

Wheel results (just attaching evidence):

ᴹʸ ᵍⁱᶠ

Draining, tedious, exasperating. Those were some of the adjectives Ransom associated with Thrombey family reunions. He'd arrive late, have some sort of conversation with his grandfather and leave early to do whatever that took him away from that big house.

Today though, he had a reason to stay for more than half an hour.

If it was up to him, you two would have stayed at home, happy, relaxed, and most importantly, naked in his bed, having a more pleasant time than the one you were most likely about to have. 

He tried to persuade you. Of course he did! But your insistence and puppy eyes made it impossible for him to say no to your request. 

So, here you were, getting out of his car, cake in sweaty hands and an excited smile on your lips, an expression so different from Ransom's, who seemed to be ready to get back behind the wheel and drive straight to Canada.

He didn't knock; he simply opened the door and held it for you to enter. If the three floor house was imposing from the outside, you felt impressed by the inside. Extravagant sculptures, apparently expensive paintings and other kinds of pieces of art were scattered everywhere, telling you just how wealthy and eccentric Ransom's family were. 

“That's Harlan Thrombey! ” You exclaimed as you stood in front of the portrait of your forever favorite author holding a knife and a book.

“So?” Ransom asked, unconcerned.

You turned to him open-mouthed, the cake almost slipping off your palms as you went to playfully slap him in the arm.

“How come you are related to Harlan Thrombey and you didn't tell me?” Your question was more of a shock than an accusation.

The carefree gesture he did with his shoulders only accentuated his next words. “I did not think you would be interested in knowing.”

“I wouldn’t be interested?” Incredulity, flowing out of your lips. “He’s the best thriller author of all time! He’s like today’s Edgar Allan Poe!”

To say that you didn't believe him was an understatement. He knew for a fact that you liked Harlan Thrombey's books, just taking a look at the bookshelf in your apartment was proof enough of that.

“We call him grandpa here.” Said a femenine voice. A brunette walked in your direction, her pretty features hardening as she looked at your boyfriend. “Don't we, Hugh?”

He seemed to be ready to say something but decided not to. Instead he inhaled and placed his hand on your back.

“This is Y/N, the only reason I’m not telling you what you need to hear right now.”

Her eyes rolled in irritation and then turned to you. “I’m Meg. Let's introduce you to the rest of the family, shall we?.” And she dragged you to the room where more people were gathered together, discussing something, not before sending a deadly glare at Ransom.

Given the distance between you and him, you didn't listen to the heavy sigh he let out before waking behind.

“Everyone!” Meg called, making everyone leave whatever they were doing to look at her –and you, in consequence. “Meet Y/N, Hugh's new friend.” She then proceeded to introduce every single member of the family, including the housekeeper and the nurse, except for the grandfather, who apparently had a moment of inspiration and left them momentarily to put his ideas on paper.

None of them left their seat to go and shake your hand except for Meg's energetic mom, who hugged you and expressed how much she loved your coat even though it was soooo last season.

Sitting on a couch next to Ransom, you half expected someone to ask you about how you two met or how long had you been dating or what was it that you did for a living. Nothing. As fast as their attention was on you, it fell from you to their previous discussion.

You now understood why Ransom jokingly suggested deep cleaning the house instead of attending that reunion.

What you weren't aware of, Ransom thought, was that all of them were behaving wonderfully compared to previous times.

You didn't know if you felt more disappointed or uncomfortable. Ransom had left your side to go to the studio for a second and you had barely had any interaction with his family. All of them, dipped in their own matters to even notice your presence. 

Fran, the housekeeper, was kind enough to take the cake to the kitchen and offer you a glass of water, but after giving it to you, she disappeared along with Meg and the nurse. 

“So,” All at once, the room went quiet as Ransom's uncle spoke. “Have you read any of dad's books, Y/N?” Only until you heard your name was that your head snapped up.

“Oh, uhm… yeah. I'm a big fan.” Taken by surprise, you simply answered.

“Really? Which one have you read?”

And to that question, you felt suddenly included in the conversation since you had knowledge of the topic.

“I'm like fifty pages from finishing 'The Needle Game' and intrigue is eating me alive.” As you heard the excitement in your voice, you tried to compose yourself and said “Though 'Nick Of Time' is my favorite.” You smiled at him, hoping that your answer was a good one.

The woman that was introduced to you as Ransom's mother nodded as she licked her lips. The light of the fireplace, reflecting on her glasses as she moved her head up and down.

“Have you read 'Ultimatum' or 'Drop In The Pocket', dear?” Her tone was curious, but the look on her face said differently.

You responded anyway. “They're not bad. I feel like the ending of 'Drop In The Pocket' was a little vague and out of line but it can always be interpreted as an open ending so…” The change in their expressions told you that you had to add something else to that answer. Maybe it was not time for literature humor yet. “But I enjoyed both.”

She hummed and took her drink, detaching from the talk that continued with courtesy questions until it morphed into a heated discussion between Ransom's father and uncle, who would repeatedly ask for your opinion to back up his own.

The discomfort you felt, dispelled to be replaced by the disturbance of being bombarded with dozens of questions at a time, each louder than the other until they changed to a completely different topic to which you were occasionally included as a neutral point of view.

“She knows what she's talking about!” Said Richard at some point when you confirmed one of his arguments. “Thank you, dear.”

Ransom came back from his obligatory argument with his grandfather to find you nowhere to be seen. 

“She's using the bathroom.” Informed Jacob, who did not take his eyes off of his cellphone. 

Thinking that you went there to hide, he started his way to your potential direction until an overheard observation from his mother stopped him halfway through. 

“… Did you hear how she talked about dad's work? Oh, I assure you she won't make it to next week with Ransom.”

Her and Richard's backs were to him, both of them unaware that their son was listening to their share of opinions.

“And did you see her hands?” Joni joined the criticism contest. “She could use some moisturizer, I tell you.”

As usual, they ignored her attempt to fit in and kept going.

“I know it's contradictory to say this,” Richard paused, as to make his point clear. “But he could do better.”

Despite their whispering, Ransom heard every single word and was glad that you were not there to see what was about to happen… 

Ransom's words stuck on his throat when he saw you making your way out of the bathroom, fixing the skirt of your dress, with such niceness and warmth directed to him as you smiled, oblivious to the fact that the people you were trying to get to like you weren't going to. 

His parents were right. He could do better. He could determine to not see them ever again and it would be the best thing to happen to him… Besides you, obviously.

“What's wrong?” Your concern was evident, just as his annoyance was undeniable.

Cold hands caressed his cheeks and Ransom thought of going back to Joni and tell her to fuck off. Your touch was soft, comforting, and gave him the greatest idea he'd ever had.

“I want to show you something.” Was his answer. It was better if you were the one who decided to never step on that house for the rest of your lives. It didn't matter if it was out of embarrassment.

Taking your hand in his, he guided you up the stairs to the first landing. The creaking sound of the old structure, probably alerting everyone in the other room that you were going to the next floor.

“Are you okay?” The sweet giggle that you let out when he abruptly stopped, almost making him feel bad about what he was seconds away from doing. 

“Better than ever.” And he stamped his lips to yours. 

Taken aback, it took you a second to respond. Hands on each side of his face as his own explored your body. When his fingers lifted your dress to caress your ass cheeks was when you ended the kiss. 

“What are you doing?” You asked in a breathless whisper. “Not that I'm complaining.”

You were cornered against the wall with Ransom towering in front of your smaller frame.

Trying to escape from whatever he had in mind was useless, you knew that much. Though, you were not sure if you really wanted to escape.

“What I've been wanting to do ever since you got a shower without me this morning.” His lips found your jaw and descended to your neck where he sucked to create a bruise. Your eyes closed to the sensation.

“Wait. No, wait.” His fingertip that had started rubbing your still clothed bud paused it's motions as his eyes focused back on your face. “We can't do it. Not here.”

Ransom's finger went back to work, bringing a soft moan that you tried to suppress. “Why not? No one's gonna come here.” His other hand moved up your thigh to lift it. “Even if they did, they wouldn't notice.”

With an expert swing of his wrist, he moved your panties aside, letting the cold air that wandered inside the house hit you before his skilled middle finger entered you while still managing to rub your clit in circles with his thumb.

Adrenaline ran through your veins, fuel activating every nerve in your body and shaking away fear from your brain, replacing it with lust and boldness.

“I'm blaming you if we get caught.” Your hips jolted forward wanting to feel more of his hand, the contradiction between your words and actions, making him smirk.

He added a second finger. Knuckles deep and his cold ring slowly warming against the inside of your thigh, he said, “I'll take responsibility, sweetheart.” Pumping his fingers in and out, he felt your slick running down the back of his hand to his wrist, wetting his overly expensive watch and the cuff of his cozy sweater .“But I can't assure you we won't get caught.”

His words, instead of working as a bucket of cold water as one would expect, increased your need to be touched by him, the yearning for him to take you right there and then. 

“Damn it, Ransom.” One of your hands flew to his shoulder to hold onto him for dear life. “I'm close.”

“You're not cumming unless I'm inside you, pretty thing.” At what point did he unfasten his belt and unzipped his trousers, you had no idea. The friction of his digits was gone in a second but the feeling of his already leaking tip rubbing against your most sensitive parts was enough to make you forget about those trifles.

Your lips opened, ready to tell him to keep his voice down when he suddenly thrusted home, stretching you out so deliciously that you had to cover your mouth to muffle the moan that threatened to inform everyone of your current activities.

Ransom's breathing hitched. Being inside you was a dream come true, feeling your walls enveloping his cock so fucking good… it was like you were made for each other, and he was going to prove it, even if his family didn't really get to know.

His hips started moving. Back and forth, back and forth. Delicately at first, letting you adjust to his size but the second he felt you throbbing around him, he increased the pace. Little by little his pounds gained power and energy.

Your whimpers –stuck in your throat, leaving only soft snuffles that crashed against Ransom's cheek, soon became more rapid, erratic and as his fingers dug in the flesh of your thigh to keep you still while he accommodated to go even deeper you heard a creaking noise.

Your boyfriend's blue eyes met yours, his movements never faltering despite the alert given by the dark wooden floor under your feet.

There was a conflict in your head, and Ransom could tell. The way you tightened and the pleading look on your face told different stories, yet Ransom knew they had the same ending.

Shaking your head, your eyes asked him not to do it, but you knew Ransom well enough to be sure that not even begging could stop him. 

“You love it, don't you?” His smile grew bigger as his change of position allowed him to hit your sweet spot on and on, ripping high pitched whines from you and obligating you to close your eyes. “The thought of getting caught. The image of someone seeing how good I make you feel.” The placement of his foot, making the landing creak repeatedly each time he pushed up accompanying every word. “Fuck, you're talking me so well. Such a dirty girl, uh.”

His big hand yanked the strap of your dress down, exposing your left boob. Your already hard nipple was soon attacked by Ransom's fingertips. He'd pinch and twist it slightly, just enough to make your back arch in search of his touch.

Pleasure was overflowing your senses, you could feel your heart thudding in your ears and your legs losing strength. Your hand left your mouth to grip at the back of Ransom's neck to keep you from falling.

The sight of your lower lip trapped between your teeth didn't please Ransom. In other circumstances, he would've let you stay that way, as quiet as possible so no one would walk on you. This time though, it was his intention to rip the most delicious sounds from your lips so you thought of the possibility of his family listening.

And so, he lent to kiss you, passion and desire transmitted through his breath. His tongue asked for a permission that was not really required, but as you let it in, Ransom took the opportunity to bite down your lip.

With your lips forcefully parted and Ransom's restless hand traveling back to your bundle, you had no other option than to moan with each quick circle his digits drew.

A series of laughs and undistinguished words were heard from a distance. Both Ransom and you turned to see what they were about, stopping in your tracks with him still buried deep inside your needy cunt.

“Guess dinner's ready.” Unbothered about the information he just gave, he hid his face in the crook of your neck and resumed his movements.

A shaky oh, fuck fell from your lips as you felt the familiar knot in your stomach forming. Your head flew back, hitting the wall with a soft thud. 

“Careful. We don't want to be obvious, do we?” You knew you were about to explode, and by the way your walls were clenching and your trembling body tried to separate from him, Ransom knew as well. “Let go, sweetheart.” A roar erupted from him as he felt you tightening around his length. “Cum for me.”

With a last, powerful thrust of his hips, you let out a silent scream. The coil snapped, making you see a kaleidoscope of colors behind your eyelids and listen to a loud ring in your ears. 

Ransom followed right after, cursing as he finished inside of you, coating you with every last drop and making sure everything would stay there.

He slid out, leaving you with a feeling of emptiness as he zipped his trousers and took a step back to let you fix your appearance.

You managed to accommodate your dress just in time for Ransom's family to walk out of the room they were in to see you. Your agitated breathing and blushed cheeks, getting everyone's attention. 

“Are you okay, dear?” Ransom's dad asked.

“She's fine.” Your boyfriend answered for you. “She's feeling a little sick. I better take her home.” He took you by the hand and helped you down the stairs to the door, which you thanked. Had he not done it, you would have tripped taking the first step.

“But she hasn't met grandpa yet.” Meg noted, furrowing her brows.

“It'll be next time.” And with that, Ransom took you out of the house and in the passenger seat of his car without giving anyone the chance to say goodbye.

When you were at a considerable distance, you sighed, letting out the air you didn't know you were holding.

“Just so you know, there won't be a next time.” You informed him, against your want to meet his grandfather.

“Why not?” He asked with a chuckle, already knowing the answer. 

“Cause embarrassment won't let me come back in the near future.”

Behind an eye roll and a tap on your thigh, Ransom hid the triumphant grimace his perfectly carried out plan gave him.