#or not locking them at all because she didn't say anything and i guess she expected me to notice they were hanging open?

[rainey-staerie-daize]

Mom getting lazy? Telling me to lock the door behind her? When she often just leaves it unlocked without saying anything? And sometimes hanging open??

No. You get ONE lock. The one I can easily lock. The gate can fuck off.

Though it's all locked up now because Skye came home and locked it up.

[reiderwriter]

So obviously Spencer is iconic for his wide range of haircuts over the show, and I have this vision of a Spencer x hairdresser fic where he goes to the same hairdresser all the time because he likes the routine and it’s what he’s used to. So like they’re low-key friends bc he’s been her client so long, but then she notices he can’t come as usual and he tells her it’s because he’s always away or working late. So because they’re close she gives him private late appointments after she closes bc they’re more accessible for him, and then they’re always together late at night, and eventually they fall for each other!! And like she loves his curls and cringed when he wanted it cut short but loves it regardless AHH I JUST LOVE IT. Bonus points if Spencer gets to recommend his hairdresser girlfriend to his teammates just to brag about the fact he has a hot girlfriend lmao. I get it’s kinda long lol, if it’s too long a premise then no worries, just sharing it is nice :)

A/N: Hi! I love the idea of hair stylist reader, so I had a lot of fun writing this~♡ Thank you for your request, I hope you enjoy it!

W/C: 2.1k

Warnings: implied Autistic Reid, brief mentions of sensory issues, writer does not care for the shows Canon hair continuity and does basically whatever she wants.

Masterlist

The first time you'd met Spencer Reid, you hadn't been able to cut his hair. Which was a damn shame because it really did need cutting. 

Sweeping up the floors of the hair salon you worked at, you had noticed the man lingering outside, wringing his hands together and pushing them awkwardly through his hair, approaching and retreating every few seconds. 

You watched him through the mirrors, and let him dance around like that for five minutes before deciding that the evening breeze would be a boon during the hot summer night that was about to set in on you. 

Opening the salon door, you stepped outside and soaked in the fresh air before turning to the now frozen, slightly awkward man. 

“Can I help you?” You tried to put a welcoming smile on your face, but the salon was past closing and empty beside you. You should've been heading home by now, but something in the man's posture had you dawdling.

“The barber shop down the road closed down,” he said quickly, as if the words were practised on his to guess moments before. 

“Yes, that's true. It's been six months now.”

“Six months?” he squeaked out, running a hand through his hair as he turned inwards. 

“Do you… need a haircut?” 

“Yes. Yes, are there any other barber shops in the area?” 

You rolled your eyes and walked back into the salon, picking up a robe and a shoulder cover and spinning around the closest chair to welcome him. 

“Well, are you coming in?” 

“But you're closed. Your sign says you're closed.” 

“And I'm still here, aren't I?” 

He didn't argue any further and hesitantly stepped into the salon. 

You helped him out of his bag and put it away before helping him into the robe and shoulder pad. 

He awkwardly stood around as you prepared your scissors and station again, switching on the mirror light so you could fully see his face and hair. 

And damn was he attractive. As you smoothed his hair out of his face, you were met with warm brown eyes, open and anxious, like a deer caught in headlights. Or, more accurately, a dear caught in a hair salon. 

You had to blink and look away as you remembered what you were about, standing up and leading him over to the sink. 

“I'm… I'm a little bit sensitive about my hair,” he admitted quite meekly as you tested the temperature of the water. 

“Okay. Is there anything specific?” 

He sat himself in the chair but didn't lower his head to the bowl, so you waited. 

After a minute or two, he gently lowered his head to the bowl, and you helped his progress, making sure he was comfortably settled. He didn't speak, just let his shoulders relax and closed his eyes as you turned the water on his locks. 

You enjoyed the simple repetitions of your job. Everyone's hair was different, that was true, but there were really only so many ways to wash hair. 

You rinsed his hair thoroughly, keeping the water away from his face and ears with a face guard before beginning to lather it up. 

For a man who hadn't seen the inside of a salon in six months and likely a hairbrush in the same length of time, his hair was healthy. 

De-tangling as you went, you ran your hands through the lengths of his hair, taking note of how it fell, which parts were healthy, and which had developed split ends. Then you began massaging his head, working the shampoo into his roots, making sure his scalp was free from any possible dirt or dry skin. 

This was the best part of the haircut for you, and you knew your regular clients enjoyed it greatly as well. Which is why you probably shouldn't have been too surprised when the man fell asleep. 

It took you a few minutes to realize that was what happened, the face guard obscuring his face from your vision. When you squeezed the water from his hair, patted it dry, and twisted it into a towel so the water wouldn't run down his back, you had no clue that he was away with the fairies. 

It wasn't until you asked him to stand, and he didn't even move that you moved around the sink and lifted the face guard. 

If he seemed anxious awake, it had melted away now. He looked younger asleep, more calm and confident somehow. His eyelashes were long, a fact you only noticed when you leaned in to get a better look at him. 

It was your hand unconsciously tracing a hand along his jaw that woke him back up, and for a second, you just stared at each other, faces inches apart. 

“I'm.. I'm so sorry, I should go. Thank you for… I should go,” he said hurriedly, pulling the robes and towels off and snatching his bag up, running out the door. 

“Wait, your hair,” you called after him, but he was gone. 

And he hadn't paid. 

It took a week for you to collect the payment, though you couldn't care less about the money anyway. 

But a week thinking about the man's delicate features, his shy smile and stutter, and you were very distracted. 

Thinking about him had become your full-time job, as much as cutting hair had, and you'd had a few close encounters with the scissors when you were lost in thought. 

You'd been thinking up back stories for the man ranging from the romantic to the obscure to the downright realistic. So, a week later, you found yourself behind on work and needing to stay late, just as he stepped into the shop a second time. 

“Hello?” You shouted from the backroom, hearing the doorbell jingle as it opened. “We're actually closed right now, so- oh.” 

He stood awkwardly in the door, his face already flushed slightly. 

“Hi.” 

“Hi,” you said, trying to stop the grin spreading across your face. You didn't want to scare him off a second time. 

“Last time, I… kinda ran away. I was… I'm not the best with-” 

“With haircuts?” 

“With change.” You both nodded at that, awkwardly staring at each other. 

“So…?” You lead, trying to encourage him to introduce himself, hoping he would reveal something you didn't already know. 

“You're closed again, but could you cut my hair?” He asked, pushing the long locks back on his head as he stood a little taller. 

“It would be my pleasure…” you trailed off as a question, needing to know his name. 

“Spencer. Spencer Reid. Doctor… just Spencer is fine if you'd prefer.” 

“I'm Y/N. Come and take a seat.” 

You slid him into the robes once again and got through a hair wash without any accidental naps this time. Though you did notice that he seemed to be enjoying it just as much. 

His sighs left you feeling hot, your heart beating as you focused on his hair to draw your gaze from his lips. 

When he was back I'm front of the mirror, he again looked like a scared cat that had been backed into the corner. 

“So, what'll it be, Spencer?” You asked cheerily, combing your hand through his locks to detangle them. 

“Hmm? Oh, a water would be nice.” 

“For your hair, Spencer. What haircut do you want?” 

“Oh! Oh, um, just a…just a haircut.” 

Your face scrunched up in confusion as he doubled down. 

“But what kind of haircut?” 

“What kind?” 

You pulled away from his chair for a minute and went to grab a cut reference book. 

“Okay, so we've got undercuts, or trims, I can do pompadour or bowl cut or-” 

You looked at Spencer's face again and saw that he looked more than confused. 

“How about I just cut your hair and after you tell me if you like it or not?” 

He nodded and gave you a weak smile as you grabbed your scissors. 

Twenty minutes of silence later, and you felt Spencer exhale in relief as you dusted off the back of his neck and pulled the robes off of his clothes. 

You'd gone for a shorter cut, but his curly hair had such a nice natural texture that you left it a bit longer on top. Without his hair in his face, his jawline was sharper, his eyes brighter, and you were somehow more infatuated. 

He stood up shyly and you smiled at how good he looked. 

“Okay, perfect! Let me just-” You lifted your hand and smoothed out some of his hair, picking up some strands and pushing them back and forth until it was just right. 

He caught your hand just as you were about to pull away, and you suddenly realized how close he was. Or more accurately how close you had gotten. It was like you were breathing the same air. 

“D-Do you like it?” You asked, voice small and high as it battled your heartbeat to be heard. 

“Yeah. I like it. It looks… it looks like a haircut.” 

You giggled as his grip became gentler, and your hand fell down to your side, brushing his chest gently as it descended. 

“How much do I owe you?” He asked, and you led him over to the register to complete the payment. 

“Thank you,” he said as he grabbed his bags to head out the door. 

“Just doing my job. I'll see you in six weeks,” you said, waving him off. 

“What for?” He asked, voice confused but bright. He sounded almost hopeful. 

“For your next haircut, Spencer.” 

He smiled and waved back as he walked back into the dark and disappeared down the street. 

No one could ever accuse Spencer Reid of being forgetful, and six weeks later, he was back in your chair. 

Except he didn't arrive at 11pm this time, but instead 11am. 

The other customers and stylists gawked at the man as he walked in, and you thanked the gods that your seat was free as he met your eyes. 

“Hi.” 

“Spencer! You're back.” 

He nodded shyly, head hanging a little as he ignored the many looks from the women in the room and the eruption of whispers and loud glances in his direction. 

“It's been six weeks. You said that's when I'd need another haircut.” 

You laughed a little as you pulled the robe around him. 

“You know, I say that every time, but most people ignore me. I love a man who can follow directions.” 

The eruption of red on his cheeks left you feeling suddenly tongue tied, and you carefully redirected the conversation back to the task at hand. 

“Same again, Doc?” You asked, readying your spray bottle and supplies. 

“Actually, could we, ah, go shorter this time?” Hesmiled sheepishly and watched as you ran your fingers through his tangled hair. 

“My boss, last time, said I looked like I joined a boyband, so…” 

“Your boss at the hospital?” You asked, clinging to every detail you could get from him. 

“The hospital?” 

“You said you were a Doctor, do you work in a lab instead or-”

“Oh. No, I work at the FBI. I'm not a medical doctor, I have a PhD. I have three, Chemistry, Engineering, and Mathematics.” 

You whistled. “Impressive. You can't be older than 30.” 

“I'm 29.” He said, smiling at you in the mirror, and you smiled back, hands still running through his hair. 

“So, no boy band haircuts, okay. For what it's worth, though, you look totally hot.” 

The words cut the conversation short, and you tried your best to take the words back as you went off to the sides to grab your sheers. 

Half an hour later, and you could swear that half the salon had given up pretending to be doing their jobs and were just awkwardly ogling the man. If the shorter “boyband” hair was good, the undercut you'd done for him was even better. 

You turned him around to get a closer look, using the excuse of making sure his hair was symmetrical enough to stare at him some more as you got closer to finishing. 

“Okay,” you said with a sad sigh. “You're all finished, Spencer. Let's get you rung up.” 

He nodded and followed you quickly, pulling out his wallet as he paid quietly. 

“Okay. And I'll see you tomorrow,” you said, as he picked up his bags to leave. 

“Tomorrow? I thought you said it was six weeks between haircuts.” 

“It is. But it's also my day off tomorrow, so I was wondering if you'd like to have dinner. With me.” 

He blinked at you once. Then twice, and another time before smiling and looking away. 

“Okay. See you tomorrow, Y/N.” 

He ran a hand through his hair and nearly walked into the door he was trying to walk through, but your heart still fluttered as you waved him out. 

[the-fiction-witch]

Sweetling

Media - House Of The Dragon Character - Benjicot Blackwood Couple - Benjicot X Reader Reader - (OC) Lady Y/n Blackwood Rating - Cute AF! Word Count - 3280

Lady Y/n Bracken stood in her gown sword at her hip, on her side of the border shivering with fear and cold, she was only the lady of house Bracken for two days given Benjicot had killed four of her older brothers, she had gone out to patrol the border in the grey rain, but it had not gone well.

Benjicot continued to stalk towards his Prey, eyes locked on Y/n's shivering figure, his sword in hand, he could taste the sweat on her skin and hear her heart pounding, "Have you nothing to say, Bracken??" he shouted, a sly smile on his lips as the air crackled with the threat of action.

"...I... I don't know what I could that won't get me stabbed," she gulped sheepishly drawing her sword but immediately dropping it, so she grabbed it from the grass and mud holding the handle with both hands, the sword shaking the tip falling where the sword was too heavy for her as she tries to defend the border

"...You, a Lady... Wielding a sword?" he asked almost amused as he came closer, the smile on his face grew as he saw her hands shaking while holding the Blade, "That Blade is too large for you, you will cut your own head off, give it to me" He outstretched his hand awaiting the sword

"h-how do I know you won't use it to attack me?”

a scoff escaped his lips as he walked closer and closer to her, "Because I'm not a dishonourable Brute like your brothers, now give the damn sword to me" He took several more steps "Before I pry it from your hands myself"

she gulped moves and offered her sword as best she could making sure he didn't step over the border

He approached, taking the sword from her hands, her trembling sent a chill down his spine, not from the chill rain the two had been standing in, but from her shaking, her fear of him "You know, you are not as bad for a Bracken as I expected, you can be quite useless" He looked her up and down as he spoke

lady Y/n stood a whole head shorter than him, she was small and innocent, a little girl never expecting to be given power as a fifth child in the family, her hair heavy her curls obvious as they were soaked, her little orange dress around her too big for her and also wet sticking to her body, her belt for the sword tied in a knot as the belt itself was too long to buckle for her, a bow and arrows on her back but upside down

He watched her, his eyes following her frame. Her dress clung to her due to the rain, almost as if showing off the small curves of her soft body, for a moment he had to swallow hard as he looked at her, the thoughts running through his mind, he could easily see she was barely even a woman, the idea of just picking her up and taking her back to his home crossed his mind, his eyes went back to her belt, the knot in it and his lips pursed in frustration "Why is your belt tied like this?" He snapped

"ohh, it's too big for me, and I couldn't find anything to make a new belt hole so I just... Tied it"

he reached down grabbing the belt "Too big for you? What in Gods name were you expecting to accomplish with a giant-ass sword that's far too heavy for you and a belt that's too big to actually hold up the damn thing" He gave the end of the belt a tug, pulling her closer to him

she let out a little yelp as he grabbed the belt forcing her against his doublet the belt undoing in his hand the sword sheath falling in the mud "it uhh it was the only sword I could find..."

He chuckled, a little snort almost as he looked down at her, his hand still holding the end of the belt, holding her against him "Let me guess, it belonged to one of your fat, useless brothers?" his eyes slowly travelled down her small frame

she shook her head "no, they all were buried with them my lord Blackwood... Blacksmith says he can't make me one till next week"

he gave a scoff, pulling on the belt again, this time it was more of a gentle pull, her hips coming closer to his "Who would be stupid enough to give you a sword anyway, you look more like a child than a warrior" he said, his eyes moving to the bow strapped to her back, hung upside down and soaking wet he gave a huff, shaking his head. She was useless, and fragile, and more of a child than a Lady "What were you thinking? Trying to defend your lands all by yourself with no proper weapon for you and a piss poor technique, you're lucky I'm the man on the other side of this border right now"

"yes my lord Blackwood" she nodded very use to being scolded by her own family but now even their mortal enemy family was scolding her

he huffed again, his eyes running across her face, taking in her features, her soft, delicate skin, the way she would look while on top of him....his mind flashed through the thoughts, but he pushed them away, now was not the time for that. "And how did you expect to be able to wield a long-swords as heavy as your brothers when you're smaller and shorter than any of your own brothers? I could pick you up with one arm"

"I... I... I don't know...."

he huffed again, bringing a hand up to her chin, gently tilting her head up so he could look into her eyes "You don't know? Don't know that you're too short and small to be a fighter? Don't know how to wear your own damn belt?"

"I... I... I'm sorry, I just wanted to help... My brother's are gone, my little brother is still only a babe I don't know what else to do" she whined starting to cry

he could see the tears as they began to fall from her eyes, the pleading look in her eyes, his hand still on her chin. With a sigh, his expression softened, his hand slowly leaving her chin and coming up to wipe the tears from her cheek, his touch gentler than when he was scolding her moments before "By the Gods what am I to do with you, you soft little thing..." he pulled her even closer, her body pressed against his chest, his hands holding her in place, a soft look coming across his face "You can't keep doing things like this, you could've been killed. You're only lucky that I'm the one on the other side of this field right now..."

"yes lord blackwood"

his hands stayed resting on her hips, a comforting hold, his eyes scanning her face "You're a little thing…”

she nodded and gulped

he chuckled, the sight of her like this sent a thrill down his spine, she was small enough to fit in his lap, small enough for him to pick her up and do anything he wanted to her...he couldn't help himself from pulling her closer against him, his hands still holding her hips "You don't really expect to lead your house do you? You would get eaten alive"

she nodded tenderly resting her cheek against his doublet feeling comfort in Benjicot as she sniffled, She had lost her father, her mother in child birth, all four brothers and now was lady of her house she didn't know what to do or how to feel so she just nuzzled with him a moment enjoying his comfort even if he was the man who killed her father, and brothers and in her mind was likely going to kill her too

he felt her nuzzle softly against his chest, the feeling of her cheek against him made his heart flutter, she really was just a scared little thing. The thought of anyone being scared of her as a leader of a house made a scoff nearly escape his lips again. He felt an ache of pity "You're a scared little thing aren’t you?" he murmurs his fingers slowly rubbing her hips, his eyes looking down at her tiny body

she nodded

he looked down at her, his hand gently taking her chin and pulling her head back up to look at him. The look on her face, the pure fear and sadness in her eyes made his heart ache "I can already see that, Sweetling" he muttered, his voice going from harsh to softer. He couldn't imagine how scared she was, all alone at the head of a powerful house… for a moment he did have sympathy as he was made lord of house blackwood so young, having lost his father and brother ironically killed by her father, he felt sympathy for her, she had lost her father, her brothers, her mother, she had no family... just like him. He saw himself in her, and looking at her, so small and scared, it sent a different sort of thought into his mind. He wanted to protect her, to hold her in his arms to keep her safe. "You're all alone aren't you? No brothers left, no parents....No one left to take care of you" he asked quietly

"I have a little brother but he's only four moons"

he gave a nod, his fingers on her hip continuing to rub gently "Four moons old...Who is caring for him if you're out here, guarding the border by yourself?"

"The Nursemaids"

he gave a scoff. "Nurse maids caring for a baby lord of a house? A bastard could walk in and claim him as their own before anyone would take notice"

she nodded unsure what to really do

he looked down at her, her eyes still watery with scared tears. He felt a twinge in his heart as he saw how helpless she really was. He would never admit it, but he almost felt protective of her, this little girl in front of him "I could help you, Sweetling...If you want."

"hum? How?"

He tilted her chin once more, his eyes locked on hers "You need a protector, something to make sure no one can ever take you or your family from you again... And I need a wife. A proper Lady in my castle to strengthen the lines of my house"

she looked up at him green eyes wide as she gulped "but - but- but- I'm a bracken. Your a blackwood. Our families have been fighting and killing eachother for... Like... Sixteen centuries"

He chuckled, a gentle smile playing at his lips, "Sweetling I know that. You think that I, more than anyone don't know the history? I know all too well what our families have done to each other... I also know that we are currently talking in the middle of a boarder you were supposed to be guarding, with you being a Lady and me being a Lord..."

she glanced and noticed he was of course over the border "ohh... Fiddle sticks"

he chuckled, his hand resting on his hip as he looked down at her. She really was too adorable, he thought, a little thing like her trying to guard a border was almost laughable "Fiddle sticks? Really darling?"

"I'm not good at swear words..."

he laughed, a real genuine laugh "I can tell. Such a prim and proper Lady, a proper little lady of House Bracken" he gave a faux gag, his hand still tightly holding her hip against his His eyes slowly traveled down her frame again, from her big doe eyes to her soaking wet dress, now clinging to her tiny figure, showing off the small curves of her body... He had to admit it to himself, she was attractive no matter how soft and small she was He shook his head, he had to get his thoughts back on track, he was supposed to be trying to convince her to marry him, not just stare at her like a hungry wolf He gave a soft scoff to himself before looking back at her "There's no one else, is there, who can provide for you like I can? No other families to offer for you."

"... I... I guess so"

he smirked, her answer of 'I guess so' was almost cute, almost as if she didn't know what to say or how to respond. He gently tugged her closer, now so that her chest was almost pressed against his front. He really did tower over her. His hand, which was resting on her chin, slowly slid down her neck, his thumb gently resting under her chin "You're so small, Sweetling...so innocent"

"I guess... It's one of the few ways I can make sure I don't get killed by a blackwood, unless you get mad at me"

he chuckled, his hand now slowly tracing the line of her jaw, his hand on her hip pulling her right up against him, so that she could feel every contour of his chest through his clothes. Her head was barely above his stomach now, forcing her to have to look up at him "Get mad at you? What could you possibly do that would anger your future husband?"

"...burn porridge?"

he cackled, a low chuckle rising from deep in his chest, the thought of this small, soft lady trying to make him porridge and burning it almost made him choke on his own laugh "Really? You think burning my porridge would get me angry? Out of all things that could make me angry, you choose burning porridge?"

"...I'm also not good at porridge"

he chuckled again, his eyes still taking her in, looking down at her small form and the way her body reacted to his touch, the slight shiver as his fingers traced her skin "And you think that making me bad porridge would upset me? What else can you not do? What other skills do you lack, my sweet Sweetling?"

"... Most of them" she nodded

his hand was still on her jaw, his thumb slowly tracing her soft skin as he looked into her eyes "Most of them? You can't even list a few? You really can't do much, can you?" He said the words in a soft tone, almost as if he found it more cute than disappointing

she nodded

he chuckled again, pulling her just a little closer against him, their bodies so close they were almost flush against each other "My Gods you are useless aren't you? Can't defend a boarder, can't cook, can't do anything... What can you do, my little sweetling?"

"... I can sew. I can embroider. I can knit... I... I... That's all."

he hummed, looking down at her soft face "Sewing, embroidering, knitting... Of course, that's all your pretty little mind can think of. Nothing that would actually be useful I assume"

"no,"

he chuckled, his other arm coming around her to wrap around her small, delicate waist, his hands holding her so tight against his chest that she almost couldn't move "You really are a simple little darling, a soft little wife meant to look pretty and have my children..."

she giggled but stopped herself when she realized that's a bad thing

he frowned when she stopped her giggle, his hand on her waist giving a soft squeeze "Why did you stop? I thought that was adorable?"

"I realized you meant it as in insult"

he gave a scoff, shaking his head "An insult? No, I didn't mean it as an insult. You are soft and delicate, made to look pretty and have my children. Not really made for much more, are you my sweet Sweetling?"

"I guess not" she agreed "are.. we really to go through with this?"

he chuckled, pulling her even tighter against his chest, his hands on her waist and jaw holding her so that she was flush against his chest. Her small body against his was almost too arousing, her curves pressing against him through her dress "Did you really think I was joking, sweetling?"

"... I don't know, this could all be a lie to kidnap me to raventree hill, and kill me" he chuckled again, a deep, amused laugh rising from his chest. He was starting to like her, she was too cute to not like. Pulling her against him a little rougher than before, he looked down at her "Why would I lie, dear? You are far more valuable alive than you are dead, a sweet little bride to strengthen my house, a pretty little pet to warm my bed and give me sons"

"and... What if I'm not good at that either?"

he chuckled, a low hum rising from his throat. She really was a sweet thing, almost too adorable to not love "How could you possibly mess that up? It would all be so simple, just laying down and giving me some heirs. A Sweetling like you can manage that much, can't you, my sweetling?"

"I'll certainly try my lord"

he smiled, his hands still holding her small frame against his chest. Her body was so delicate, he could wrap his hands around her waist completely. He smirked a low scoff rising from his chest "You'll try. It's adorable that you even think there's room to not do it. You will give me heirs, darling, you're far too soft not to"

she nodded agreeing and as soon as she did benjicot picked her up in his arms and began to carry her over the border to take her home with him to Raventree Hall

he chuckled, the feeling of her small, light body in his arms was satisfying, she really was just a Sweetling, small and soft and so, so useless. He could do whatever he wanted to her, and no one would be able to say a thing, she was now his to use and shape into a proper Lady "There we go, darling. Time to go home with your betrothed" he continued carrying her bridal-style, every step making her little body bounce a little in his arms, forcing her to wrap her arms around his neck to keep herself upright. As they left the riverland behind, he gave a deep, satisfied laugh "Off to Raventree Hall we go, sweetling. Off to be my pretty little wife"

she giggled her dress thin and soaked from the rain letting him feel every last inch of her, as she jiggled with the bounces he walks

he felt every bounce and jiggle from her body in his arms, the feeling of her body against his as she held onto his neck and her thin dress sticking to her body almost made him want to pin her on the ground right then and there and make her his right now "You really are a soft, fragile thing aren't you, my sweetling? You wouldn't last a moment on the field"

"I doubt think so" she agreed

he chuckled again, readjusting his hold on her to pull her closer against his chest, her body flush with his. The feeling of her curvy little body was so satisfying, so perfect against him "You're such an adorable thing, my Sweetling. So much more useful in a bed than on the battlefield, don't you think, sweetling?"

she nodded nuzzling his neck "hummm hubby"

he gave a deep humm as he felt her nuzzling into his neck, her little face almost adorable against the soft skin of his neck "Hubby? Is that what you're going to call me, sweetling? You are such a sweet little thing, aren't you?"

"is that okay?"

he chuckled, still walking and carrying her as he nodded "More than okay, sweetling. Sweet little thing like you, calling me hubby, how adorable. You're almost too little to be real"

[theosbaby]

brokenhearted

theodore nott x fem!reader

masterlist

summary; theo breaks up with his girlfriend and you comfort him, but things get a little bit heated in the process.

warnings; a bit of angst, heavy make out (this shit is long af), NSFW, some light dirty talk, praising, dry humping, p in v, marking, hair pulling, unprotected sex... that's all, i think. this is kinda a fluffy smut.

author's note; i'm back!! i'm sorry for disappearing for such a long time, i hope this makes up for it ♡ (i don't really like how it turned out, but i hope you do). ps: thank you all so much for still supporting my acc while i was gone! i appreciate it so much.

you had been looking for theodore for some time now; the night had fallen already, and you hadn't heard from him since the day before; he didn't go to class, neither contact you in any way. preoccupied, you headed over the astronomy tower again; you had already looked for him there —like four times during the day— but you decided to try again, after all, it was his favourite place in the entire castle. that time, you actually found him there, sitting with his back against the railings and a cigarette between his lips... classic theo.

when he noticed your presence, he looked up at you and bluntly said, "luna broke up with me." his expression was almost emotionless, but you knew him well enough to know he was hurting deep down.

"what?" you gasped, your brow furrowed, as you walked slowly to take a seat by his side on the floor.

you didn't know what to say or how to act; his admission had taken you by surprise. one part of you —the part of you that was crazy in love him— wanted to scream and cry happy tears at the news, but the other part empathised with him, making you feel his pain.

you hated seeing him suffer.

"yeah, she said it wasn't working out," theo replied.

he took one last drag from his cigarette before blowing out the smoke and tossing it aside as he looked up at the stars, his eyes distant and lost in thought. you kept quiet, not wanting to interrupt him so he could let it all out.

"i guess she's right, though. we never really had anything in common." he chuckled bitterly, shaking his head before talking again, "i don't know why i'm surprised, though. i'm not the most lovable person, am i?"

his eyes met yours, and you could see the pain in them. he was your best friend; you knew damn well the baggage he carried on his shoulders, the trauma his mother's death and his father's neglect had caused on him. theo was not one to get attached to people because of that and every time he lost someone, grief hit him like a truck, even if he didn't let it show. you reached to grab his large hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.

"hey, that's not true," you told him, your voice softening to try and reassure him, "don't say that."

theo gave you a small smile, his eyes searching yours to try and find comfort in them. he took a deep breath and let it out slowly as his hand squeezed yours back. you could feel the tension emanating from his body, the pain he was trying to hide. then he looked away again, blue eyes dropping to the floor.

"i just... i don't know how to do relationships, you know? i never had any good examples growing up." his voice was quiet as he talked, almost a whisper, like he was telling you his darkest secret and feared someone else could hear him. "my dad... he never loved my mom. he never loved me. and now i feel like i don't know how to be loved, or how to love someone else," he explained, letting out a sigh, his brow furrowed. "i'm sorry. i didn't mean to bring this up..."

"theo..." you muttered, your voice cracking as you cupped his face to force him to look at you, "that's bullshit, alright? listen to me." you stared at him intently as you spoke, gently caressing his cheek, "you're nothing like your father."

theo's eyes remained locked on yours, his gaze searching for any sign of truth in your words. you swore that you saw his eyes fill with tears as he heard you talk, but he quickly blinked them away, not wanting to cry in front of you; crying made him feel vulnerable.

"i needed to hear that," he muttered, leaning into your touch, "thanks."

"want a hug?" you asked, smiling warmly at him.

you both stayed quiet for a few seconds, just staring at each other with an intensity that spoke volumes, and you were so close together that you could see the little freckles that covered his cheeks and nose, painting his skin like constellations painted the starry night sky.

"please," he responded.

you felt him wrapping his strong arms around your slim body and you melted into his embrace, your body heat mingling with his as you felt the tension leaving his muscles. one of your hands rested on his back, rubbing reassuring patterns on in, while the other caressed his soft waves and he sighed contently.

"you always know how to make me feel better," he murmured while pulling away slowly, his eyes filled with gratitude and a faint smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

your eyes dropped to his lips unconsciously, your pulse racing; he noticed your stare and smirked.

"of course," you whispered back, "that's what friends are for."

you wished you could be more than friends, though.

theo watched you as you averted your gaze shyly and he couldn't help but notice how beautiful you looked with the moonlight kissing your pretty face.

"you know," he said quietly, "i've always had this strange feeling about us."

"what feeling?" you asked curiously, chuckling; your cheeks flushed as you looked back at him.

theo took a deep breath before answering, "like we're meant to be together... like i was supposed to meet you and spend my whole life with you." his voice was slightly shaky, as if he was nervous about something.

he looked at you intently, waiting for your reaction.

"well, you ain't getting rid of me anytime soon, so yeah, i guess we're stuck together." you laughed, not understanding what he really meant; you thought he was talking about your friendship.

theo chuckled at your response nervously, shaking his head lightly when he realised you hadn't noticed he was actually trying to confess his feelings; he had always liked you, even though he was dating other girl, he always knew it was you who owned his heart. maybe that was why he couldn't just give luna all the love she deserved.

"i mean... as more than friends," he admitted.

he looked at you intently, searching for a reaction from your part that let him know you felt the same way. his heart was pounding in his chest; that was a big step for him to take.

you couldn't help but smile, anxiously biting your lower lip as you dropped your gaze to the ground.

"your mom used to say that we were going to end up together someday," you whispered with longing.

your smile turned into a sad one as you mentioned her; you knew theo missed her a lot, and to be honest, you missed her too. you turned towards him just to see that he was smiling back at you, but his smile didn't really reach his eyes.

"she always knew what was best for me. i miss her so much." he sighed deeply and tilted his head, resting it against yours. "i only wish she was here."

"she would be so proud of you," you told him, trying to make him feel better.

theo nodded, his voice barely above a whisper as he said, "i really hope so."

he looked at you again and smiled warmly. the air felt intimate and special between the two of you; it was like nothing else mattered but this moment together. and you both knew, you were in love.

"i missed this," you murmured, your eyes dropping to his lips briefly once again.

that time, theo's gaze fell to your lips as well, and you felt your heart pounding in your chest. when theo started dating luna, that intimate conversations with him started getting less frequent, making you drift apart slightly and it had made you realise how much you actually needed him in your life.

"i missed it too," he whispered back, "i missed you."

after a moment of silence, he leaned forward, his lips brushing against yours in a soft, tentative kiss. It caught you off guard, but you returned the kiss, feeling like your soul was about to leave your body as his soft lips caressed yours in such an intimate touch.

but then reality crashed you; you couldn't do it, not when he had just broken up with his girlfriend and he was feeling down, so you put your hand on his chest, reluctantly pulling him away to stop him from kissing you.

"we shouldn't do this..." you shook your head; your faces were so close together that your warm breath hit his face. "you and luna..."

"please," he interrupted you, his voice almost pleading, "make me forget."

"theo, i–" you stuttered.

you were fighting an inner war with yourself; you had been dreaming about that moment for so long, but it didn't felt right to take advantage of the situation like that. you couldn't bear it if he regretted this decision the day after.

he shook his head, as if he could read your mind just looking into your eyes, and cupped your face gently, pulling you closer to him.

"you're everything that's right in my life, sunshine. you're all i need..." he murmured, his voice low and desperate. "you've always been."

your heart melted when you heard him calling you "sunshine". that was the nickname he had given you when you first started being friends; when you asked him why he called you that, he told you that he had picked it because you were the light to his darkness, the only thing that made him truly happy.

you knew theo would never hurt you, that he would prefer to die rather than making you suffer in any way, so any doubt lingering in your mind slowly faded away.

"i'm sorry i didn't have the courage to tell you sooner," he added, his gaze piercing through yours with an intensity that spoke volumes.

"it's better late than never, right?" you whispered, gulping nervously.

you could feel your heart beating in your throat as you stared at him, waiting for him to make a move.

he smirked. "i guess we'll have to make up for the lost time."

and with that, he leaned forward, pressing his lips to yours once more. it was a tender, gentle kiss that started slowly but gradually intensified as his hand slid down towards the small of your back, pressing you closer to his body. time seemed to stand still as you lost yourself in the warmth and comfort of his embrace. you were on cloud nine; lips avidly kissing his and skin prickling wherever he touched you, igniting sparks in your belly. you parted your lips, allowing him to slip his tongue inside your mouth, and you exhaled a sharp breath, whimpering against his lips.

he deepened the kiss, his tongue exploring your mouth with a hunger that mirrored your own. his other hand found its way to your neck, holding you firmly as he continued to devour you with every ounce of passion he possessed. after a few seconds, though, you had to pull away reluctantly to be able to breathe, your chest heaving up and down as you reached up to tangle your fingers in his soft hair, gently caressing it.

he smirked and rested his forehead against yours, his breath hot against your skin. "you're a very good kisser," he murmured, his fingers still running up and down back, leaving a trail of heat in their wake.

he was looking at you with an intensity that made your head spin, your cheeks blushing at the compliment as you smiled back at him.

"you too," you whispered against his lips, unable to resist the urge of leaning in to kiss him once again.

his mouth tasted like mints and cigarettes; it was new, but at the same time, it felt familiar.

you heard him chuckling softly before he returned the kiss, this time slowing things down, as if he wanted to savour every moment he had with you. his hands wandered over your body, memorizing every curve and dip, his touch setting your body on fire. eventually, his fingers found the hem of your shirt, slowly creeping underneath and causing goosebumps to break out on your skin.

your plump lips parted, a shaky breath slipping past them as you felt him caressing your soft flesh ever so delicately, as if he was afraid of breaking you. he took this as an invitation to slide his tongue inside your mouth once again, avidly searching for yours and starting a playful war between the both of you.

you felt his lips forming a smirk against yours, his tongue having apparently won the little play fight it had with yours as he took full control of the kiss. his hand moved down your back, caressing your skin before he gently cupped your ass, squeezing it lightly, which earned him a soft gasp from you. you didn't oppose when he gently pulled at you to bring you closer to his body, making you straddle his lap as he leaned back against the railings.

he finally broke the kiss, letting out a low groan as you settled on top of him. his eyes were dark, and he looked up at you like he wanted to eat you alive. his hands moved to grip your creamy thighs, fingers digging into your skin possessively. you were panting at that point, cheeks flushed and lips swollen from all the kissing, but his breathing was just as ragged as yours, and his heart was beating so fast that he was sure you could hear it if you paid just enough attention to it.

"you're absolutely breathtaking, you know that?" he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to your lips.

you blushed in response, the smile that appeared in your face impossible to hold in. your small hands cupped his face tenderly, and your thumbs caressed his sharp cheekbones.

"don't say things like that," you muttered, getting all flustered and shy suddenly.

his lips twitched in a amused smile at your reaction, but before he could even say or do anything, your lips were on his again and the feeling was so intense it robbed him of his breath for a moment there.

"i want you so bad," he whispered against your lips, hips bucking up to grind against you unconsciously.

and that's when you felt it. he was hard. the mere discovery had you moaning softly into the kiss, hips grinding down onto his crotch in a desperate attempt to feel him once more as you placed your hands on his chest. good lord, the friction was making his head swim. he groaned in response as he slid his hands up your thighs to grasp at your hips, the need to fuck you coursing through him like a wildfire.

"you're killing me here, sunshine," he muttered, breaking the kiss for a moment before swooping back in for another.

you giggled playfully against his mouth, hips still rocking onto the straining erection in his pants. you weren't thinking straight anymore, your need for him clouding all your rational thoughts; theo was the only thing in your mind in that moment. the feeling was mutual. theo's mind was consumed with wanting you, his hands moving to your ass to encourage your movements, eliciting a whimper from somewhere deep in your throat that sent his head spiralling.

okay, so keeping a semblance of his cool was completely out of the window now.

pulling your lips apart with a loud snap, he growled something that sounded like, "you're a fucking dream."

you responded with a harsh tug at his brown curls, tilting his head back to expose the pale expanse of his neck. you attached your mouth to it greedily, kissing and sucking on his skin as you ground against him, which caused him to literally whimper as he shuddered beneath you.

for god's sake, he did sound pretty whimpering.

meanwhile, you felt one adventurous hand slipping underneath your top and sliding up your belly. theo's hand was on a mission, his fingers tracing along your silky skin before he cupped one of your breasts, gasping at the feel of its weight on his palm. he kneaded it, his other hand reaching up to grip the hem of your shirt while he pushed you away from his neck. he looked up at you, silently asking for permission to undress you.

"it's okay," you whimpered in response, nodding with a little smile on your puffy, red lips.

you knew you were in the middle of the astronomy tower, a public place, but you just couldn't bring yourself to care about it. theo didn't need more encouragement than that, he was already tugging your top over your head, tossing it aside before his eyes feasted on the sight of your naked breasts; his gaze was hungry, devouring every inch of your exposed skin.

"you're so fucking beautiful," he whispered, leaning forward to take one of your nipples into his mouth while his hand pinched and rubbed the other.

"theo," you whined as his tongue flicked your sensitive nub.

your hips resumed their previous movements as you fisted his hair once again; your heart pounded in your chest when you felt his hard cock pressing against your aching pussy, both of your clothes getting in the way as your need grew stronger.

fuck, you were so wet.

his breath was hitching from the friction between your hips, and he tore his lips away from your boob with a desperate moan, his lids falling close, a sheen of sweat already glistening on his brow.

"god damn, fuck me already, would you?"

you couldn't help but chuckle at his desperate plea, leaning forward to kiss his lips once more; it was like you couldn't get enough from him.

you broke the contact after a few seconds, your teeth sinking into his bottom lip to tug at it playfully, then, you asked him, "here?"

his eyes flickered around the tower, barely sparing it a glance before his hungry gaze settled back on you. theo's mind was clouded, his cock aching and his fingers already tugging idly at his zipper.

"the hell if i care..." he mumbled, voice raspy from all the kissing.

you helped him get rid of his clothes, lowering his pants and boxers just enough to free his dick, which sprang against his stomach, long and thick; your mouth watered and now you were eager to have him inside you.

how could a cock be that perfect? not fair.

"fuck, come here."

before you could even process what was happening, you felt his hands gripping the hem of your shorts to tug them down your thighs alongside your panties. you slipped just one leg out of them before he pulled you towards him desperately.

you were completely naked, while he was almost fully dressed, and it was unfair, so you forced him to lift his arms up so you could yank his t-shirt off, exposing his ripped abs. thank you, quidditch.

he pulled you flush against him, skin to skin for the first time today and you both moaned; his hands gripped your hips tightly, fingertips tracing over your bare flesh as he guided you on top of his cock.

"gonna fuck you now, sunshine, you want that?" he asked for your consent, lips peppering kisses all over your collarbone and chest.

"yeah," you mumbled in response, nodding eagerly.

you reached down to wrap your small hand around the base of his shaft, placing the tip against your soaked entrance and lowering yourself onto it. since you both were a little too impatient to do any foreplay, his thick cock sliding inside your tight pussy knocked the air out of your lungs.

theo watched your face, lips parted and panting as you slowly took him inside yourself: he gave a low moan when his cock bottomed out inside you, hands gripping you tightly.

"fuck– baby, so fucking good," he complimented you, whimpering needily.

you stood still for a few moments to get used to his size before you started bouncing up and down on his dick, the delicious drag of his thick cock head against your inner walls making you shiver from pleasure. you gripped his shoulders to try and steady yourself, nails digging into his flesh and leaving bright red marks.

theo grunted, tossing his head back as he felt your walls clutching him. his eyes closed in ecstasy, hands travelling down to grip your ass cheeks and helping you bounce up and down on him a little bit faster.

"shit, baby... so fucking tight," he growled out.

"your cock feels so good," you cried out while dragging your nails down his chest and abs, scratching his skin.

theo hissed as he felt your nails clawing at him. his hands squeezed your ass tighter before he smacked it, groaning. "bad girl... don't scratch."

the slap made you yelp slightly, cheeks flushing red at his words. "wanna mark you up," you confessed, breathlessly, "so everyone knows you're mine."

you stopped bouncing as you felt your legs getting tired, rocking your hips back and forward instead; the new motion made your clit rub against his pelvis, sending pleasure waves down your spine.

theo chuckled, his eyes smouldering. "i am yours, sunshine. always have been."

his hands kept roaming your body, taking in the softness of your skin as he lifted you up just enough to be able to thrust up into you, hard and fast. you grasped at the railings behind him for support, crying out in complete and utter ecstasy as he railed you, hips snapping against yours and creating a wet slapping sound that mingled with your loud moans. your pussy clenched around him, and you felt your belly muscles tightening, signaling your upcoming orgasm. theo's thrusting became more erratic, his breath hitching as he pounded into you, chasing his own release. he grabbed your hair and yanked it back, exposing your neck to him. he leaned in and bit down on the sensitive skin where your shoulder met your neck.

"gonna cum for me like a good girl?" he purred, panting.

"yes, please," you answered between little moans and cries, your voice whiny and agitated.

your eyes rolled back when his hand slid between your legs and his thumb grazed your clit; you trembled in response. it didn't take long for you to reach your peak and when you did, it was with a loud cry.

"that's it, that's my good girl," he cooed at you, fucking you through your climax.

your cunt spasmed around his cock as you came, your juices soaking his shaft. your arms wrapped around his body while you squirmed uncontrollably on top of him, moaning repeatedly in his ear. theo wasn't far behind you, the feeling of your walls clenching around him sending him over the edge. he buried himself deep inside you, whimpering helplessly as he came in your cunt.

you moaned when you felt his hot cum filling you up, pussy still tingling so nicely that you weren't even thinking. "fuck– i love you... i love you so fucking much." it just slipped in the heat of the moment without you realising.

but of course he noticed.

theo's breath caught, his orgasm still rocking through him. he looked at you with a surprised expression, but it quickly melted into a tender smile, a warm sensation flooding his chest.

"i love you too, sunshine."

[chiyuuchu]

II. The plot twist of admiration <3 (2nd August 2024)

Bakugou Katsuki x Reader

Prompt! The class decides to make a bet with everyone writing down who they think y/n’s admirer is.

first part here!

Every story has two sides to it.

Bakugou Katsuki wasn't one to waste time on frivolous matters like romance. He had better things to do, like becoming the number one hero. But there was something about Y/N that made him act differently. Without really understanding why, he found himself wanting to make her smile, to see her happy. So, he started leaving gifts on her desk: flowers, sweets, her favorite drinks.

He watched from a distance, making sure no one noticed him. He didn't need the extra attention or the questions from his classmates. Plus, it was kind of fun seeing them guess who the secret admirer was.

“Maybe it’s Midoriya,” Mina said one day during lunch. Bakugou rolled his eyes. Of course, they'd think it was Deku. “He’s so attentive and always pays attention to what his friends like.”

Bakugou scoffed internally. Deku might be observant, but he wasn’t the one leaving the gifts. Besides, Bakugou knew exactly what Y/N liked because he paid attention, too. He wasn’t just some explosive hothead, no matter what people thought.

“I don’t know,” Tsuyu said thoughtfully. “It could be Kirishima. He seems like a romantic guy.”

Bakugou almost laughed out loud at that. Sure, Kirishima was his best friend, but he wasn’t the one sneaking around. And IcyHot? The guy was about as emotionally expressive as a block of ice. He was also certainly sure the bird brain was too kept to self to like someone.

As days went by, Bakugou continued to leave gifts. He saw Y/N's smile every time she found something new on her desk, and it made his heart swell in a way he didn’t quite understand. One evening, he went to the convenience store to get her favorite drink. When he returned to the dorms, he saw Y/N in the kitchen, looking frustrated.

“What’s got you all worked up?” he asked, trying to keep his tone casual.

“Someone must have taken my favorite drink. I was really looking forward to it.,” she sighed.

He scoffed, pulling the drink out of his plastic bag. “Here. I just bought a few. Don’t make such a fuss.” he said, tossing it to her. Before she could say anything. Bakugou just takes his leave with a huff. “Whatever. I’m outta here.”

When he reached his bedroom, he immediately covered his face. The heat which had rushed to his face earlier swallowed him whole. His heart was pounding.

The next day, he left another gift on her desk. This time, it was a box of her favorite pastries. He'd gone out of his way to get them from a bakery across town. Bakugou watched from a distance, smirking to himself as Y/N smiled.

During lunch, the girls were really pushing their theories about who it could be.

“It’s gotta be someone who’s been paying close attention,” Mina says, thinking maybe too hard. “Maybe it’s still Midoriya?”

“Or Kirishima,” Momo claimed. “What if the other day he said it wasn’t him was an act.”

“Or Todoroki,” Kirishima chuckled heartily. “He’s always so polite and thoughtful.”

“Or maybe Sero,” said Hagakure. “He could be into you, who knows.”

Bakugou couldn't help but roll his eyes again. It was almost laughable how off their guesses were. As Y/N's smile grew wider with each gift, he felt a strange sense of satisfaction. He wanted to be the one who made her happy, even if he had to do it from the shadows.

While Y/n slowly looks over and locks eyes with Bakugou, he couldn’t help but give her his genuine smile. A smile that was only for her.

Bakugou continued his secret gifting for another week, each time feeling a mix of pride and frustration. One evening, after another exhausting day of training, he was about to head back to his dorm room when he noticed Y/N sitting alone on the couch in the common area, looking contemplative. He hesitated for a moment, then decided to approach her.

"Hey," he said, trying to sound nonchalant.

Y/N looked up, her face lighting up with a smile. "Hey, Bakugou."

He sat down next to her, unsure of what to say next. They sat in silence for a few moments before Y/N spoke again.

"You know," she began, her voice soft, "I've been getting these really sweet gifts lately. Flowers, sweets, drinks... It's been really nice."

Bakugou's heart pounded in his chest. He tried to keep his expression neutral. "Yeah? You figure out who it is yet?"

Y/N shook her head, a small smile playing on her lips. "Not yet. But I think I have an idea."

Bakugou felt a lump form in his throat. He wanted to tell her, to admit that it was him, but the words seemed to stick. Before he could muster up the courage, Y/N turned to him, her eyes bright with curiosity.

"What about you, Bakugou? Have you ever done something like this for someone?"

He snorted, trying to deflect. "What, leave gifts and play secret admirer? Not my style."

Y/N laughed softly. "I didn't think so. But you never know. People can surprise you."

She definitely knows. He gulped internally.

Bakugou swallowed hard, feeling a surge of determination. "Yeah, well... maybe I have a few surprises up my sleeve."

Y/N tilted her head, studying him with an amused expression. "Is that so?"

Her phone began ringing. “Oh, I gotta take this call. Thanks for the chat, Bakugou.” She smiled and walked away.

Before Bakugou could respond, a loud crash came from the kitchen area, followed by Kirishima's voice shouting about a spilled pot.

As she walked away, Bakugou watched her go, feeling a strange mix of relief and disappointment. He knew he needed to find the right moment, but it was hard to say when that would be. He stood up, ready to head to his room, when Kirishima came rushing over, a huge grin on his face.

"Dude, guess what!" Kirishima exclaimed. "Everyone's trying to figure out who Y/N's secret admirer is. You gotta see this."

Bakugou rolled his eyes but followed Kirishima back to the Kitchen area, where a group of their classmates were gathered, excitedly discussing their theories.

"I'm telling you, it's got to be Todoroki," Hagakure was saying. "He's always so calm and collected. It fits."

"No way," Kaminari argued. "It's definitely Tokoyami. He's mysterious enough to pull this off."

“What the hell is everyone making a fuss about?” Bakugou grumbled.

“Oh! Hey man, we were just placing bets on who Y/n’s secret admirer could be.” Kaminari casually said. “My bets on Tokoyami.” He proudly claimed. And why exactly was he proud of his assumption?

“Well I think it’s Midoriya!” Mina folded her arms with an angry closed eyed pout.

Momo also chimed in. “I still think that it’s Kirishima and that he’s secretly deceiving us that it isn’t him.” Kirishima who was beside her folded his arms. “Hey! It isn’t me, you’ll lose your money for betting on it!” He, once again defended himself.

“What if it was a girl and we were deceived the entire time.” Jirou randomly put a a finger to her chin, looking up in thought. “Hmm.” She hummed in thought. Right after that, everyone did the same with putting their finger on their chins and humming in thought.

“I know! We should settle this bet by asking everyone to write down on this paper who they think it is. Winner takes all.” Kaminari smugly said, pulling a piece of paper out.

“Oh, you’re on pikachu!” Mina retorted.

Bakugou mentally wanted to facepalm. But then he thought about it. If he were to guess himself then wouldn’t he technically be the winner of the bet?

“Whatever, you losers do what you fucking want.” Bakugou said and walked back to his room. “Hey! Where you going? You need to bet too!” Kaminari exclaimed. “Yeah yeah, just give it to me tomorrow. I need to catch some fucking sleep.” Was the last thing Bakugou said before heading back to his room.

The next morning, the classroom was full with chatter during a break between lessons. Kaminari, ever the instigator, was bouncing around with a piece of paper and a pen.

"Alright, guys, everyone write down who you think Y/N's secret admirer is! Everyone is betting! Winner takes all!" he announced, waving the paper in the air.

Y/n just gave a confused expression before going back to her book.

One by one, the students scribbled down their guesses and passed the paper around. When it finally reached Bakugou, he glanced at the eager faces around him and scowled.

"I'll do it later," he muttered, snatching the paper and shoving it into his bag.

"Aw, come on, Bakugou!" Kaminari protested. "Just write it down real quick!"

Bakugou ignored him, standing up and heading out of the classroom as the bell rang, signaling the end of their break. Kaminari pouted but didn't push further, knowing better than to press Bakugou when he was in a mood.

Later that evening, Bakugou sat in his dorm room, the crumpled piece of paper lying on his desk. He sighed, unfolding it and smoothing it out to see the various guesses scrawled in different handwriting.

He couldn't help but scoff at some of the guesses.

Uraraka: "I bet it's Sero. He’s always pulling pranks but he's got a sweet side."

Todoroki: "Maybe it's Kirishima. He’s very straightforward."

Kirishima: "Nah, it's gotta be Midoriya. He's so considerate."

Midoriya: "My best guess would be Kirishima… He definitely seems like that type of guy."

Yaoyorozu: "I still think it's Kirishima."

Ashido: "I know it’s Midoriya."

Tsu: "I change my mind, I’m placing my bet on Kaminari."

Jirou: "I guess it might be Kaminari. He’s got a fun personality and is always trying to cheer everyone up."

Aoyama: "It could be Iida. Je sais cela!"

Sero: "Maybe it's Shoji. He's very attentive and protective."

Tokoyami: "I assume it might be Todoroki. He's very observant and quiet."

Hagakure: "My bet is still on Todoroki!"

Iida: "I believe it's Kaminari. He’s always energetic and caring."

Shoji: "It might be Iida."

Ojiro: "I think it could be Aoyama. He’s always trying to make everyone feel special."

Koda: "I think it’s Midoriya..."

Mineta: "It's definitely someone unexpected, maybe Jirou. She's got that vibe. And who knows? Girls on girls!"

Sato: "What if it's Mina? She's really unpredictable."

Kaminari: "I still think it's Tokoyami! Imagine that!"

Aizawa: "Bakugou Katsuki."

Even the teacher???

Bakugou paused at Aizawa’s guess, feeling a strange mix of annoyance and satisfaction.

"Idiots," he muttered to himself. "They have no idea."

Aggressively scribbling on the piece of paper, he carelessly folds it.

But as he lay in bed that night, his thoughts drifted to Y/N. He imagined the smile on her face when she received his gifts and how her eyes sparkled when she spoke about them. It gave him a strange sense of accomplishment that none of his training victories ever did.

The next day in class, Kaminari eagerly retrieved the paper from Bakugou and prepared to read the guesses. However, just as he was about to open it, everyone began to question how they would find out who the admirer really was.

"How are we actually gonna figure out who it is?" Midoriya asked, looking around the room.

Suddenly, Mina stood up and yelled, "Whoever the admirer is, you have to come clean now because we've all placed bets already, and I'm sure Y/N is interested."

Silence. Everyone was looking at each other, trying to see if the admirer would step up.

Bakugou gulped, feeling a surge of panic.

Then Hagakure made a suggestion. "Why don't we make it more fun? Y/N should write down on another piece of paper who she wants her admirer to be."

For some reason, Y/N agreed willingly. She took a piece of paper and began to write a name. Bakugou watched her, rethinking his life decisions. If he admitted his feelings now and wasn't the one she wanted, he would never live it down.

Y/N finished writing, folded the paper, and kept it to herself.

“Wait I have an idea!” Tsu said and whispered something into Mina’s ear.

"Alright then," Mina said with determination. "Everyone who is NOT the admirer, sit down."

Slowly, one by one, the students sat down until only Bakugou remained standing with his eyes shut tight.

The room filled with gasps and murmurs of confusion.

"Bakugou?!" Kaminari exclaimed, wide-eyed.

“KACCHAN??” Izuku exclaimed.

"No way," Kirishima muttered, shaking his head. "Bakugou, seriously?"

"I lost my bet!" Sero groaned, throwing his hands up in the air.

"Wait, Bakugou's the secret admirer?" Uraraka asked, her eyes darting between him and Y/N.

Jirou smirked. "Well, this just got interesting."

“I certainly did not expect this..” Momo’s voice sounded.

Some students complained about losing their bets, while others were simply shocked. Bakugou's heart pounded in his chest. After a moment of silence, he heard the sound of a paper unfolding.

More gasps filled the room.

"You can open your eyes, Bakugou," Y/N said softly.

Bakugou's heart sank. What if his name wasn't on the paper?

He opened his eyes and saw Y/N holding the paper.

Bakugou Katsuki

His heart soared when he saw his name written on it. A wave of relief and happiness washed over him as the class erupted in a mix of congratulations and disbelief. He had never been this terrified in his life, but it was all worth it.

“Very unexpected, I must say.” Iida said.

"Well, who would've thought?" Mina laughed, nudging Kirishima.

"Guess we all underestimated Bakugou," Tokoyami said with a rare smile.

"Congrats, man," Kirishima said, patting Bakugou on the back. "Took some real guts."

Bakugou, his face slightly flushed, just nodded, trying to maintain his usual tough demeanor. But inside, he was over the moon.

“Wait! It’s not over! Who won the bet?” Sero yelled, immediately grabbing everyone’s attention.

Kaminari hurriedly opens the paper.

Uraraka: "I bet it's Sero. He’s always pulling pranks but he's got a sweet side."

Todoroki: "Maybe it's Kirishima. He’s very straightforward."

Kirishima: "Nah, it's gotta be Midoriya. He's so considerate."

Midoriya: "My best guess would be Kirishima… He definitely seems like that type of guy."

Yaoyorozu: "I still think it's Kirishima."

Ashido: "I know it’s Midoriya."

Tsu: "I change my mind, I’m placing my bet on Kaminari."

Jirou: "I guess it might be Kaminari. He’s got a fun personality and is always trying to cheer everyone up."

Aoyama: "It could be Iida. Je sais cela!"

Sero: "Maybe it's Shoji. He's very attentive and protective."

Tokoyami: "I assume it might be Todoroki. He's very observant and quiet."

Hagakure: "My bet is still on Todoroki!"

Iida: "I believe it's Kaminari. He’s always energetic and caring."

Shoji: "It might be Iida."

Ojiro: "I think it could be Aoyama. He’s always trying to make everyone feel special."

Koda: "I think it’s Midoriya..."

Mineta: "It's definitely someone unexpected, maybe Jirou. She's got that vibe. And who knows? Girls on girls!"

Sato: "What if it's Mina? She's really unpredictable."

Kaminari: "I still think it's Tokoyami! Imagine that!"

Aizawa: "Bakugou Katsuki.”

Bakugou: "Bakugou Katsuki."

“Bakugou won? Isn’t that technically cheating..” Momo said with a concerned look.

“Technically that means I won. Now pay up.” Aizawa said from his sleeping bag.

“Ughhhhhhhhh.”

After the class settled down from the surprising outcome, Bakugou found a moment to approach Y/N. He was still trying to process the whirlwind of emotions from the earlier scene.

"Hey," he started, his voice gruff but softer than usual. "Can we talk?"

Y/N looked up and smiled. "Sure, Bakugou. What's up?"

He led her outside of the classroom, away from the curious gazes of their classmates. The tension between them was palpable, but Bakugou tried to ignore the nervous flutter in his chest.

"So, you actually picked me," he said, struggling to keep his usual confident tone. "Why?"

Y/N’s eyes softened as she looked at him. "Well, I've always noticed you’re not as rough as you seem. There’s a lot more to you that people don't see. I appreciate that you always seemed to care, even if you don’t show it."

Bakugou’s face flushed slightly, and he rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. "Yeah, well, I didn’t think you’d ever actually like me. Not with how everyone talks about me."

Y/N shook her head, a playful smile on her lips. "You’re more than what people say, Bakugou. And I’m glad I got to know that."

Bakugou hesitated for a moment before stepping a bit closer. "So, what now? Now that everyone knows?"

Y/N's smile grew, and she looked up at him with a twinkle in her eye. "I think we should see where this goes. I’m happy with how things are turning out."

Bakugou’s usual scowl softened into a genuine smile, and he took a deep breath. "Yeah, me too."

They stood there for a moment, the noise of the classroom fading into the background as they enjoyed the rare, peaceful connection between them. It was the start of something new, and for once, Bakugou felt that he might just be ready to embrace it.

[wosoamazing]

Rescue

Barça Femeni x Teen!Reader (Mainly Alexia)

Based off of this request. (And also vaguely off of Lauren Daigle's song - more so just the title, but it kind of under lays the fic I guess.)

WARNINGS: Attempted Sexual Assault References (flack backs), Abusive Father (physical and emotional), drinking/drunk, slight mentions of implied sick (doesn't happen). Let me know if anything else

The team were always suspicious about your home life and what it was actually like but you always brushed them off when they questioned and no one had tried to push further until recently.

“Y/N, we missed you last night, what happened?” Lucy asked you as she walked in, most of the team following behind her.

“Oh, sorry I was going to message but I must’ve forgotten, I felt a little sick so I thought it was best to stay home,” you told them, causing Alexia to move towards you with her hand out, which you dodge, “but I’m fine now,” you smiled at your captain and she gave you a fake smile back.

That was far from the truth but you didn’t want to tell them what happened. You were in your room making some finishing touches before you left to go out with them, when one of your Dad’s friends had walked into your room, you thought you had locked your door but you must’ve forgotten. He walked up behind you and his body was pressed against yours before he slinked his hand up under your dress and brushed his hand over your upper thigh. You snapped around and punched him before you ran, you could hear him yelling at you afterwards, and you Dad yelling at him, but all you could do was run, and to the safe place you knew no one would come looking for you. Thanking the heavens above that Jona somehow gave you a pass that meant you could go to the training grounds at all times. You quickly got changed into your training kit and took off your makeup before setting an alarm on your phone and falling asleep on one of the couches.

That day during treatment you flinched every time one of the physios touched you, and when he moved his hand up to your thigh you felt your body tense up and your breath becoming laboured, when he applied pressure to start working you bolted straight out of the room, the touch bringing back all the feelings from the night before. You found yourself in a room, full of your teammates, who all worried over but when you finally calmed back down they all left except for one, your captain. Who gave you a pointed look as you made contact with her eyes.

“I’m fine” you reiterated to her for probably the 100th time that hour.

“You know you can talk to us anytime, about anything,” Alexia reassured you.

“Si, I do, but I don’t need to because I’m fine,” she gave you a very unconvincing nod before walking out, leaving you to be by yourself. The team knew you weren’t fine. You constantly showed up to training with bruises that were slightly too dark or too big to be caused by whatever your excuse had been that time, but you were clumsy so they never really questioned it. However Alexia had kept a mental note of when they happened and what your excuses were and she couldn't help but see that there was a pattern. Then there was the incident last week when you were calling some of them and your Dad started yelling at you, and calling you names. You tried to convince them that it was because he had tripped over because you had left your boots and bag and other stuff all over the floor which caused him to stub his toe, however they all felt that it was a very poor excuse to yell at your child in such a way but you just brushed them off.

One week later you found yourself laying on a yoga mat in the gym, you were flat on your back as you stared straight up at the ceiling. Alexia had come over and placed a mat down next to yours, she didn't say anything but just laid there next to you on her back, as the team filtered out to go to the pitch for training neither of you made an effort to move. 

Several different thoughts ran through your head as you laid there next to her for quite some time. You were having an internal battle in your head of whether you opened up to her or not, maybe she would help, maybe this wasn’t normal. But maybe she would tell you it was your fault, you had a short dress on that night, that was slightly slutty, were you asking for it? Had you deserved all of it, all the yelling, the hitting.

“He-he, tried to touch me,” you blurted out, one side of the fight winning, your words caused her to bolt straight up, sitting crossed legged on her mat facing you.

“Who did? Your Dad?” she asked.

“No one of his friends,” you said, shaking your head.

“Did he?” she asked, concerned. “No, not really, I mean he put his hand up my dress, he was leaning forward into me and he touched my thigh, but I quickly moved away from him and punched him and ran, while I was running he was saying something about reporting me for hitting him, but I don’t think he did because I could hear Dad saying something about them finding out if he did because the police would show up to the house,” you said as tears started to flow out of your eyes.

“Find what out?” Alexia asked, confused, wondering what had been happening.

“That he abuses me, they would see the holes in the walls from where he would try and punch me but miss, the shattered mirror that I glued back together, it smashed because he threw it at me, but they wouldn’t see the emotional things, they would only see the physical things. The name calling, the swearing, they couldn’t see that, it would be his word against mine,” you continued as your shoulders started to shake as your cries turned into harsh heavy sobs, “I’m sorry,” you cried out as you rolled over onto your stomach, head resting in your arms as a puddle formed on the underneath you.

“Oh Nena,” Alexia sighed as she went to place a hand on your back, “please don’t touch me,” you asked and she obeyed, quickly retracting her arm, “b-but, please, s-stay” you hesitantly asked her. You felt broken, like there was something wrong with you, how didn’t you notice it wasn’t normal. You thought you had a broken home but at the same time, you never spoke about it so maybe everyone had a broken home and just didn’t talk about it, but since being at Barça you slowly started to realise that what was happening in your home wasn’t normal and wasn’t okay, but it was normal to you, to you being called an idiot, or a stupid bitch was normal, being told you were too lazy or not good enough was normal, being scared to take a step in your own home was normal. Constantly living on the edge and not feeling comfortable in your own home was normal. It was normal in your extended family as well, you came from a long line of toxic men, there was no one to show you that what you were experiencing was abnormal, until now. Men drinking until they passed out was normal. Men controlling the house was normal. Women only dated Men, even in a different universe you would never see a Woman dating a Woman in your family. But somehow Barça had shown you this wasn’t normal.

Alexia’s heart ached as she watched sobs rack your body, she just wanted to hold you tight and tell you it would all be okay, but she couldn't. She had to respect your boundaries and give you some control back.

But you soon found yourself sitting in her lap, your body having gravitated to the warmth and safety she seemed to provide. Your hands clutched to her shirt.

“Nena, can I hug you?” She asked not wanting to do anything against your will, you nodded into her chest and she wrapped her arms around you. You suddenly felt safe, cared for, loved, it suddenly all came crashing down, this team loved you, you had never really experienced that before, and you broke down even more. You were now gasping for air as your body shook, Alexia’s concern for you was rapidly growing.

“Nena, I need you to breath, you’re going to make yourself sick,” She told you, “I-I can’t” you told her as you struggled to suck in air, “Yes, you can Nena, just in and out, focus on my chest moving up and now,” you managed to slightly calm down, but it was barely, your were still shaking and your sobs still racked your body, but you were no longer gasping for air. Alexia put her headphones over your ears and made sure to turn on the noise cancelling feature, she needed to call someone for help but didn’t want you to have to listen in, you didn’t mind, you kind of liked the quietness they provided you. She called Mapi.

Mapi, I need you and Ingrid to take me and Nena home now.

[ckret2]

Chapter 63 of human Bill Cipher trying to debate his way out of still being the Mystery Shack's prisoner. Soos has found the stolen Journal 4 in Bill's possession and has to decide what to do about it in light of everything else he's learned about Bill lately.

[*you may notice chapter 61 is missing! This plot was done sooner, so I'll be posting chapter 61 sometime after 64. It's not chronological so you're not missing anything!]

Soos stared dumbfounded at the journal with a 4 on the cover that he'd pulled from Bill's hiding place. Ford had lost Journal 4 last fall—he'd said gnomes had stolen it. How in the world had Bill gotten it?

Soos sat in the attic window seat and flipped through it. The first few pages were Ford's journal entries—his observations of the dimensional rips they were glueing shut in Gravity Falls post-Weirdmageddon, a hand-drawn map highlighting various places around the globe he wanted to investigate, a few drawings and observations of paranormal beings he hadn't seen his first time in town, half a sketch of a gnome that ended with a jagged scribble across the page followed by a page that said "Shmebulock" over and over.

And then a page that said, in an unfamiliar handwriting of jagged, narrow gray letters: "CURSED BOOK! If your name is Mabon Mason Pines, STOP READING NOW or ENJOY YOUR HEX!"

Bill had written page after page of some weird code of gray and yellow-green dots and dashes. A few sentences in English—every one of them was a threatening message to Ford. "Everything would have been fantastic if you'd just helped me finish, Fordsy." "You'll regret not siding with me when you had the chance." "You should have known better than to let your idiot brother turn you against me." "Sixer, you're lying to yourself every time you say you never worshiped me, and you know it. You spent the first third of your life running away from the god you were raised with and the second third chasing after me. Don't waste your last third denying it. YOU'RE MINE." A small, worrying diagram of what looked like the interdimensional portal. And a sticker.

Wait, hold on.

A sticker. One of Mabel's. The rest of the page was the same as the others, the two-tone dots and dashes, except for the sticker, and an arrow drawn from one paragraph to the sticker.

A yellow smiley, its round edges filled in with black marker to make a triangle, over the words "Good job!"

Soos stared at the sticker.

####

A couple of weeks ago, Melody had texted to let Soos know that there was a mess in the upstairs bathroom, and the kids said they'd been fighting a werewolf ghost.

When Soos had gotten home the next morning, Melody had pulled him aside and quietly told him she hadn't wanted to worry him and the Stans, but she did not think it was a werewolf ghost.

When Soos saw the bathroom, he didn't think it was a werewolf ghost either.

It was a scene from a horror movie. Menacing magical sigils painted all over the walls in blood and toothpaste, Bill's zodiac painted on one mirror, the other mirror broken, glass and water all over the floor. It looked like the site of a really wet demon summoning. This contained none of the hallmarks of ghostly or werewolfish activity. Why would Bill do this?

Soos was kind of reluctant to ask Bill. Bill still sorta scared him sometimes. Sure, he looked like a lost 18-year-old, but Soos knew what teens were like in a fight. So he asked Mabel instead.

Mabel pursed her lips uncomfortably. "Ask Dipper."

So Soos asked Dipper.

Dipper winced and. "Promise you won't get mad."

Soos considered that. "Yeah, I guess that's a fair deal."

Dipper confessed that Bill got accidentally locked in the upstairs bathroom for like a whole day, because he and Mabel didn't hear him yelling. Not because they were out of the house when they shouldn't have been. They were just... somewhere else in the house. Doing something loud. For the whole day.

While Bill was trapped alone.

####

Soos had vented to Abuelita about cleaning the bathroom. Like sure, he got Bill was annoyed about being stuck, but that seemed excessive.

Abuelita had made the observation that sometimes people in profoundly bleak and oppressive situations would just... destroy whatever was around them. Like punching a hole in the wall or snapping a pencil when you were angry, but much more so. Not because they wanted their surroundings to be destroyed, but because that was the last and only thing they had power over, and they needed to feel like they were in control of something. Even if that thing was merely changing their environment from ordered to chaotic.

Bill didn't have control over very much. He probably hadn't since he died. Soos didn't know what kind of space triangle afterlife Bill had been in before he showed up as Toga Lady, but it couldn't have been great if he'd come straight back here.

Soos could remember the one time weeks ago he'd let Bill into the bathroom to shower and forgotten to come back and let him out. How Bill had screamed so all the Mystery Shack's tourists could hear; how he'd seethed in Soos's face, how he'd said he'd rather blow their collective cover and throw them all on the mercy of the town's law enforcement than remain locked in the bathroom a second longer than they'd agreed upon. Soos had thought Bill was just impatient and hotheaded.

Standing in the bathroom, looking at the material evidence of Bill's claustrophobic terror—the broken glass, the spilled blood—he wondered.

####

The same day, he had felt a breeze in the gift shop and found the trap doors to the roof left open. He'd climbed up, shut them, and in between tours he'd visited his office to check yesterday's security tapes. 

He saw Wendy coming into the shack to hang out the morning before. That was fine. Soos had discovered she did that from time to time on days the shack was closed, but she wasn't doing anything bad and she hadn't brought it up yet, so Soos didn't bring it up either. Maybe she just needed a private place to hang. Teen stuff. He was just glad Wendy felt that safe at the Mystery Shack. Maybe she'd just gone up to hang out on the roof and forgot to shut the trap doors...

And then, right there on screen, Soos saw Bill letting himself into the gift shop, through the door, which he shouldn't be able to open. A chill shot up Soos's back. The door curse was their only real means of containing Bill. If he could use doors now, he was out, there was no way they could trap him without doing something crazy like locking him in the bunker and hoping he didn't kill himself.

Or could he use doors? Soos thought back to the frantic messages on the bathroom wall, written in Bill's own blood—his desperation over being unable to escape. Maybe he could use doors but not doorknobs. That was okay, maybe?

On tape, he saw Wendy run into Bill. He saw Wendy take Bill onto the roof. Out in the open air, where he could just... do whatever. But he didn't do whatever. Soos fast-forwarded the tape until Wendy and Bill came back down, and Bill simply returned to the living room.

He'd had the perfect opportunity to shove Wendy off the roof or escape. He didn't take it.

If all Bill was using his new door skills for was ducking into the gift shop and hanging out on the roof with Wendy, Soos thought maybe it would be kinda mean to take that away from him. There weren't a lot of other places Bill could go in the shack. (Soos kept seeing the blood on the bathroom wall. He kept trying to imagine what kind of helplessness would drive someone that far.) Maybe Bill needed the open air.

So Soos had put the security tape on his desk, not sure what to do about it.

####

A couple of day after that, while Soos was restocking the gift shop in between waves of tourists, he'd seen Wendy reading an oddly dull-looking booklet instead of one of her usual magazines. He tilted his head to glance at the cover. The Oregon state driving manual. "Aw dude, gonna get your learner's permit?"

"Think so," Wendy said. "Don't tell my dad."

Soos remembered Wendy groaning about her dad wrangling her into doing errands if she ever got her license. "Your secret is safe with me."

"Thanks."

"What made you change your mind? You were totally against getting a license a week ago."

"It's probably those stupid Gleeful Auto commercials that have been worming into my dreams." Wendy laughed. "I'm just waking up in the morning like, neeeed caaar."

"Oh yeah! Heh, funny coincidence, Melody says she had a dream like that too. Sometimes she gets these like, dreams about monsters watching her in bed? But one time, the monster was Bud Gleeful, whispering in her ear about a big car sale. She totally woke up laughing!"

"Ha! Annoying car commercials should be banned, man. Why do we need to be told multiple times a day to spend thousands of dollars?"

"You make a salient point."

They fell silent for a moment as Wendy read a couple more paragraphs. Then she said, "That, plus... I was talking to Goldie the other day."

Soos looked up from the t-shirt he'd been putting on a clothes hanger. "Oh. Yeah?"

"About where we wanna go when we get out of town."

"Huh." Very casually, Soos asked, "What did Goldie say?"

"He wants to go on some big vacation. Like a world cruise or something, I dunno."

"Huh." Soos wondered if that was true. He tried to imagine Bill Cipher as a tourist. Floating triangle in a Hawaiian shirt with a camera hanging from a strap and a fanny pack. What kind of places would he even visit? Soos bet he wanted to visit the pyramids. Heh. (Was that stereotyping? Maybe that was stereotyping.)

"And I told him I'm moving to Portland for college."

"Oh, hey, I didn't know you were thinking about college."

"I... actually, never told anybody else before," Wendy said. "I've been thinking about it for years, but part of me felt like it's just a fantasy? But Goldie said when he got out of high school, he did the same thing—moved to another town, made a new group of friends, all that. And... I don't know, actually talking to him out loud about it just... made it feel real, you know? So I thought, if I'm gonna move to Portland, I should probably start planning for it. Starting with how I'm getting there." She held up the driving manual.

Soos nodded slowly. "Huh. Yeah. That's a pretty mature way to look at it."

And that was what Bill was talking to Wendy about on the roof? Just... listening to a teen vent and helping her figure out her future?

And so, Soos took the security tape off his desk and put it in a drawer.

####

A few days later, Soos had heard the downstairs bathroom sink running for several minutes, assumed someone had forgotten to turn it off, and went to turn it off himself—and had caught Bill, in the dark, half undressed, washing himself in the sink.

After Soos had backed out and profusely apologized, he'd asked, "But—how come you're washing in the sink? I can let you in the upstairs bathroom if you need—"

"Worry about your own grooming habits and leave mine alone," Bill snapped. "As long as I don't smell, what do you humans care how I do it. Soap is soap and water is water."

It took Soos several days to realize he didn't think Bill had had a shower since he got locked in the bathroom. And nobody had noticed, because Bill made sure nobody noticed, because he'd been keeping himself clean in the bathroom he couldn't get locked in.

####

Dipper would go all summer without showering if he could get away with it; Stan showered like once a week and had constant old man smell; Abuelita also showered weekly and had a more refined old lady smell; Soos didn't know when Ford showered, but he'd never caught him doing it and Ford always smelled weirdly like burned hair. Soos showered almost daily during tourist season—that Mr. Mystery suit was hot—but outside that might go three days at a time. Mabel showered near daily.

From what Soos had observed, Bill was showering like, at least twice a week. He didn't know how often Bill cleaned himself in the sink in between.

That meant he was showering more often than two-thirds of the house.

Yet he was the only one in the house living under the threat of being thrown in the tub at 3 a.m. if someone decided he hadn't bathed enough for their tastes.

The reason Bill had refused to shower during his first week of imprisonment was so he could use the condition of his body as a bargaining chip—with no physical possessions in the world, his own body was the only bargaining chip he had—to try to buy a little more dignity. In return, his captors had taken more dignity away. They permitted Bill less autonomy over how to take care of his body than the household's children had.

Dipper had never gotten forced into a bathroom he couldn't let himself out of.

####

The day after the eclipse, Ford had pulled Soos aside and said quietly, "Soos, as soon as you have some time—could you repair the door to the kids' room? Before the end of the day? The latch has been broken since the tooth fairy's attack."

"Uh, sure, I can probably do that," Soos said. "How come?" The latch had been broken for a couple weeks, and the Pines hadn't been worried about it before.

"Right now, the door can swing freely with just a push," Ford said. "I think Bill's figured out how to use that to get in. Which is worrisome, since he shouldn't be able to use any doors..."

"O-oh." Soos thought about the swinging door into the gift shop. "Yeah, uh... sounds bad. Byyy the way—how'd you figure out he knows how to use the door?"

"Dipper says Bill somehow got in and out of the room last night," Ford said. "Mabel fell asleep in the living room and Bill carried her upstairs. I really don't like the thought of Bill being able to get his hands on the kids while they're asleep and defenseless."

Ford was mad at Bill for tucking a kid into bed? That was the big red flag? "No problem! I'll fix the door right after work."

The next time Soos visited his office, he took the security tape out of his drawer, rewound it, stuck it back into the tape recorder, and let that day's security camera footage overwrite and erase the evidence of Bill's visit to the gift shop.

####

And now, today, carrying Journal 4 in both hands, Soos trudged downstairs, trying to figure out what to do with it. He had to return it to Ford, obviously—but Bill and the Stans were already in the middle of a discussion that sounded a lot more like an argument. Flinging a stolen journal into the middle of the proceedings would just make it worse. Maybe he should wait until they were finished and everyone had cooled down a little—?

While Soos was upstairs, the discussion had apparently moved into the kitchen. He hovered awkwardly at the bottom of the stairs, watching.

"What do you mean, you need kitchen access," Stan was asking, "you already have kitchen access. It's never been off-limits! Even after you peed in the sink!"

"It's not kitchen access if I need to ask someone else for permission to eat anything but snacks." 

"No one's making you ask for permission! You can take what you want!"

"Okay, fine. So what can I eat?" Bill gestures at the shelves. "Go on. List anything you can think of. Anything."

Stan grimaced, and glanced at Ford to see if he was willing to walk into the obvious trap first.

Ford looked at the nearby shelves. "Cereal."

"One point for Stanford Pines! Cereal! So am I supposed to eat dry cereal for every single meal, or—?"

"No, of course not."

"All right, then what else?"

"Brown meat," Stan said. "We've got plenty of brown meat. It's good for you!"

"You didn't give me can opener rights," Bill said.

"Huh."

"So no brown meat," Bill said. "No canned soup, no canned chili, no canned fruit, no canned vegetables—"

Ford cut in, "Some of the cans have pull tabs, you don't need a can opener for those."

"Terrific observation! As soon as you realized I could open those cans myself, you moved them all under the counter because you thought I'd use the sharp edges as weapons!"

"It's... possible to open cans without a can opener, I did it sometimes while roughing it in other dimensions—"

"Yeah, wearing off the metal rim with a rock, right? Lemme just go outside and grab a rock—oh wait." Bill crossed his arms.

Ford sighed, and turned to Stan to suggest something else.

Stan surveyed the available supplies, spotted the bread, and said, "You could make sandwiches!"

"With what filling?"

"Uh..." Stan kept looking.

Meats and cheeses, of course, were kept in the fridge. Along with jelly, condiments, most vegetables... tuna or spam weren't options, they were canned... "Hey, we leave out some meats that don't need refrigeration. Sausages and stuff."

"Right, right. The ones that don't need refrigeration because they're wrapped in plastic you need a knife to cut," Bill said. "Sometimes I bite the plastic open with my teeth and rip off chunks of sausage with my fingernails, that's always fun! Then you put the leftovers in the fridge, and I'm out of luck until we buy another sausage."

"You could put... peanut butter on your sandwiches?" Ford tried. "Peanut butter's nutritious."

Bill fixed him with a hard look. "For the past five weeks, every time I've gotten a meal without asking someone else to help feed me like a baby, I've had nothing but peanut butter and banana sandwiches, peanut butter and jerky sandwiches, peanut butter and raisin sandwiches, and peanut butter and potato chip sandwiches. And we're out of bananas, jerky, and raisins." He pointed at the tortillas. "Once I decided to get creative and made myself a cold peanut butter quesadilla! I can't even add spices, because guess where the breakable glass spice jars are kept?"

"Pasta," Ford tried. "We could keep the pasta out."

"Oh, wow, that'd be great! I just love pasta! But I can't open the microwave and I can't turn on the stove! How do I heat the water, Stanford?"

Ford frowned. "Hm."

"I can cook, you know—not that any of you bothered to ask! It might not suit your tastes, but it suits mine! I wouldn't need your help to eat if you didn't make me need help! I am sick to death—" his voice went thick and took on an uncharacteristic waver, "—of having to beg to... eat." He cleared his throat, squeezed his eyes shut, and rubbed his eyelids with one hand. "Sh-shouldn't even—need to eat." He clenched his jaw to keep it from trembling.

Stan and Ford exchanged a guilty look. Stan said, "You don't have to beg— I mean, we know the, uh... position you're in..."

Bill was silent for a moment as he tried to get a tough face back on. His voice came out as a rough whisper—too thick to get any louder without breaking. "I had to negotiate to get burnt eggs."

Ford winced.

Soos was dumbfounded.

When had Bill had to negotiate for food? He could all too easily understand how it might have happened—Bill was an annoying guy, sometimes they had to pull out dumb bargains to get him to do stuff. But bargaining for food should never be on that list. Meeting Bill's basic nutritional needs couldn't be dependent on whether he was annoying that day. If it was, he'd starve.

It sounded like he was starving. Right under Soos's roof. He hadn't even noticed.

He thought about the piles of junk food trash upstairs and the bag of chips Bill had hurled across the room.

Ford said, "We'll... discuss it."

"We'll figure something out," Stan said. "I mean it."

Bill nodded silently. Head down, without uncovering his eyes, he hurried out of the kitchen and toward the stairs.

He nearly bumped into Soos's chest without noticing him. Soos backed up a step, tucking Journal 4 under his arm. "Whoa, hey!"

Bill froze, head jerking up. "You." His voice was thick and his glare was watery and poisonous. "Don't you have anything better to do than eavesdrop?" He tried to elbow past Soos, smacking his leg with his umbrella. "Move."

Soos realized uneasily that Bill's face looked a little slimmer than it had when he'd arrived.

He stepped in Bill's way. "Can't go upstairs right now. Attic's being cleaned."

"I didn't ask you to clean!"

"I'm not cleaning for you, dawg. It's just gotta be cleaned."

"Fine! Whatever!" Bill veered around the staircase and stomped down the hall, muttering, "Can't decide when I eat, can't decide when I shower, why should I get to choose when my hovel's swept..."

Soos's leg hurt where Bill had smacked it. (Bill couldn't even control whether or not he cried; all he had control over was making someone else hurt.)

In the kitchen, Stan murmured, "Didn't even realize we don't keep anything decent out on the counters. They're so crowded..."

"Chip bags take up a lot of space." Ford sighed. "I assumed he'd get a serving with everyone else whenever Mrs. Ramirez cooks."

"He does, but she only does dinners. And he'll only eat it if he watched her cook it. I've seen him get lunch with Mabel, but I don't know what he does when she's not..." Stan spotted Soos on the stairs. He tiredly called, "Soos? You need something?"

"Uhhh..." Soos hid the journal behind his back. "Nope! I just thought I'd come downstairs! For no reason." He awkwardly walked up the stairs backwards, journal still tucked behind him. "And—and now I'm going up again." He stopped at the landing and scooted sideways up the next flight of stairs. "See ya."

He pressed the journal to his chest and returned to the attic.

####

When Soos and Abuelita moved into the shack, the first thing Soos had done was turn Ford's ground-floor study into a bedroom for Abuelita. Because she was a little old lady, and not quite as steady as she used to be, so Soos didn't want her constantly going up and down the stairs—because falling once, just ONCE, could send her to the hospital or worse. That was how serious it was! You don't mess around with that!

Bill tripped and fell on the stairs so often that they could use it to tell when he was awake. And nobody had thought to offer him a cane? Did anybody even ask if he was alright?

When Bill first arrived and tried to murder everyone, naturally, he came out of it pretty banged up and bruised. That was to be expected. It was self-defense. They'd gotten used to seeing Bill with scrapes on his arms and legs, rope burns around his ankles, and the angry purple-black bruises of chain links over his arms. But in all the weeks since then, Soos hadn't seen Bill bruise-free once. Bruises on his shins and arms, scrapes on his elbows and knees. Soos had seen him with a four-inch burn on his forearm. Bill had brushed it off.

In Bill's first few days in the shack, he'd resorted to peeing in the kitchen sink because nobody had bothered to give a guy who couldn't open doors a way to use the bathroom. And they were the reason he couldn't open doors in the first place!

He threw up in the living room in the middle of the night and went upstairs to sleep on couch cushions on the floor and nobody had talked about it.

He burned off all his hair and was so upset about it that he stole Soos's zodiac blanket and hid under it for half a week, and everyone but Mabel just ignored him.

In less than a month in the Mystery Shack, Bill had lost a tooth.

He had been dragged out of the house during a weird weather phenomenon while terrified out of his mind. Soos had seen Bill cowering on the ground in fear, Ford looming over him, grabbing him by the collar and snarling in rage. Bill had been pleading with everyone in hearing range not to make him go, and had come back in such a state of shock he could hardly walk. 

And yet, he'd protected the whole town from getting hurt in zero gravity—and he'd brought a pet for Soos.

They'd tried to execute Bill two days later.

####

Soos sat in the window seat, flipping through the remaining filled-in pages in Journal 4. The last few pages were packed with stickers. A cat that said PURRFECT! A smiling fish that said A REEL PAL! Bill had started a little collection of pizza slice stickers for some reason. A couple of holographic rainbows, a smiling scratch-and-sniff sun. (Apparently, the sun smelled like lemons and oranges. Astronomy facts!)

Soos reached the current page. Bill was using several pieces of paper—regular printer paper and notebook paper, folded in half—like a bookmark. Soos unfolded them. A list of animals ranked by fuzziness. (Soos was satisfied that he'd been placed under the "smooth and squishy" category, but wondered whether he should be bothered by the fact that he shared the category with pigs and slugs.) A drawing of Bill riding a looping rocket ship and waving a fishbowl helmet above him. A drawing of a blue house with a couple of kids and a pig in the window. Several drawings of shape people kinda like Bill: a pink heart person labeled "Me in Flatworld," a stern-looking red stop sign wearing sunglasses labeled "Bill's parole officer," Bill dancing, the pink heart protecting Bill from some villainous-looking shapes—all clearly Mabel's art.

Several notebook pages in someone else's handwriting detailing names, addresses, and contact information, with statements Soos couldn't make sense of—as if maybe someone had been asking somebody else questions and writing down their answers. He thought the questions might be about how some people had reacted to the end of Weirdmageddon. He got the impression the people being discussed had known that Weirdmageddon was coming. He got the impression they were disappointed it hadn't happened. There were several questions at the end: How will we rendes-vouz? (Whoever was writing didn't know how to spell rendezvous, but to be fair Soos wasn't 100% sure either.) What supplies do you need? What are your interim orders?

Soos stared at the notebook papers.

He flipped back through the journal again, looking at each page more closely.

Sometimes the two-tone dot-and-dash segments had a stray human word: a few characters he recognized from his Teach Yourself Japanese workbooks, sometimes words Soos thought might be Arabic but honestly he didn't have a clue. At one point he listed half a dozen human names that Soos didn't recognize. The most common character was a stretched-out letter M (Mabel?), followed by a 6 knocked on its side (Sixer?).

The dot-and-dash segments had occasional amateurish illustrations. Sometimes they were human stick figures; sometimes the stick figures' heads had symbols off of Bill's zodiac wheel. He saw Stan's fish symbol, Gideon's star symbol, and Mabel's shooting star symbol. Ford's stick figures were the only ones with hands; Bill consistently gave them six fingers. The doodles were like particularly esoteric cave drawings; they were so bad that Soos couldn't tell what most of them were supposed to illustrate.

Except for one featuring Bill (as a triangle) and Mabel and some other inscrutable figures in a really awesome car with flames on the side, its coolness limited only by the fact that it was all in gray and yellow-green crayon. When Soos had been in high school, there had always been a couple of kids who didn't know how to draw anything except expensive cars or name-brand sports shoes, but they drew them in extreme realistic detail. Apparently, Bill was that kind of artist. Nothing but stick figures and the sickest crayon car Soos had ever seen.

It didn't do anything to dispel Soos's impression of Bill as a lost alien 18-year-old.

On one page, in sloppy lines of handwriting that meandered drunkenly up and down the paper, Bill had written, "I don't get why you won't give me a second shot. I asked you to join my gang. I serenaded you in a pyramid. I got a fantastic makeover. I offered you godhood. I showed you my dimension. I didn't torture you until I had to. I even made you a skin couch! I know how much you've always wanted a leather furniture set! I've given you everything from chicken zombification magic to jelly beans, what does it take? What am I missing?"

Soos reread Bill's other messages to Ford. All that "you'll regret not siding with me" junk wasn't threats. It was the impotent rage of a socially inept teenager who didn't understand his own creepiness had driven his friends away. It was the whiny moan of some guy going "Why doesn't she like me anymore" about an ex-girlfriend who had told him five times she didn't like him anymore because he didn't listen to her. Like that guy Wendy dated last summer. So like, a jerk, but not a terrifying world-ending monster jerk, just an annoying creep jerk. A regular jerk. A human jerk.

Soos stood, gave one last look at this journal—clearly stolen, definitely a violation of Bill's "no writing materials" restriction, completely stuffed full of mysterious messages to outsiders and some kind of weird alien code that could say anything at all and might have been super dangerous—and he slid it back into the ripped seam in the attic seat cushion where he'd found it.

He finished vacuuming up the potato chips Bill had flung across the room, thinking about how offended Bill had been that Soos had given him any food except what he'd asked for, remembering what Abuelita had said about people who destroy the things around them when they feel like that's the last and only thing they still have power over.

Enough was enough.

####

(Hope y'all enjoyed! Next week we may interrupt our regularly-scheduled programming to post a TBOB-based chapter I'm inserting early into the fic—it depends on if I get it done by next Friday. In the meantime, I'm looking forward to hearing y'all's thoughts on this chapter!)

[from-beyond-the-woods]

Alright I'll bite. I live in Israel, yes. I served in the army, yeah. Does Israel mistreat Palestinians in Gaza and the West Bank? Absolutely. My friends who are still enlisted tell me about the shit show that goes in there every day. I get it, there are a million reasons to hate the government and the IDF and whoever else you point fingers to. No side is innocent.

But assholes on motorcycles and in pickup trucks broke through the fence, entered civilian towns and military outposts alike, and just started MASACARING EVERYONE. THIS SHIT IS UNPRECEDENTED. And some MIGHT tiptoe around the point, and say that taking over outposts is fair because it's an occupation force and colonialism and what have you, but for fucks sake

They entered civilian homes. They shot everyone who moved. In locked houses, they set the home on fire and shot the families as they fled. I heard the phone calls - people screaming and begging for their lives as terrorists are walking around their home, stealing possessions, massacring everyone.

They didn't just murder colonialists, militants, occupying forces. They murdered kids who should've gone to school today. Parents working local agriculture, teachers, normal guys with an office job. They murdered dozens of elderly people who couldn't run away.

Not only murdered. Kidnapped. Living and dead, put on pickup trucks and herded back to Gaza. Stripped naked, desecrated and paraded around Gaza. I dare you to tell me the party goers, who were at a rave near one of the Kibbutzim near the fence, deserved to be shot at as they ran to safety. Hundreds of people missing. My Instagram stories filled with their faces, and a phone number attached - "help us find our loved ones. Contact lost. If anyone knows anything-" and at this point I skip them because there's nothing I can do.

My friends are enlisted down there. We're just a bunch of 20 year olds. My best friend is defending one of the villages who were infiltrated, she's trading shots with gunmen who already murdered half the place, she's messaging me once in a while to let me know she's alive. She should've been home for the weekend, we were supposed to watch Chicago now that it's on Netflix. Now neither of us sleeps, she's putting her life on the line and I'm wide awake terrified of the moment they call me and tell me she's gone.

This is mostly a rant. If you read all of it, thanks. I live up north, no need to worry for my safety for now. I don't have a good ending for this. Just, stay safe, I guess.

[always-just-red]

I loved the Drunked Call with Sylus scenario you made! I like the way you write it and I see you accepting request hehe. Can I request about... Sylus, Zayne and Caleb reaction meeting fem!reader, dates or accidentally met (you name it) and they noticed her long hair has been attached with chewed bubblegum? some kid pulled a prank on her before and she didn't even aware of it

Aw thank you so much!! 💕 I did different pranks for each of the boys just to keep things interesting- I hope you don't mind! They're all equally silly haha, and I had SO much fun writing them. Added Xavier and Raf for good measure, too!

It's Just Not Your Day...

LADS Boys (& Caleb!) x Reader

Summary: It's you against the kids of Linkon City, and guess what? The kids are winning.

Genre: Humour + fluff!

Warnings/Additional tags: gn!reader, established relationship, swearing, canon pet names, reader gets a little stressed (and with some of these boys you can understand why 🙃)

| Word count: 4k | Masterlist |

Disclaimer: Characters belong to Love and Deepspace. All work is my own, so please don't repost or plagiarise!

Xavier ⭐

One of the perks of being a Deepspace Hunter is the way people look at you. You’re used to respect: appreciative nods and gestures, wide-eyed admiration. You’re out in Linkon almost every day, putting your life on the line for everyone in the city. You’re a hero, right?

So why is everyone looking at you so… funny?

“Xavier,” you speak in a hushed whisper, tugging at the sleeve of your partner’s uniform. “I don’t like this. Something weird is going on.”

He yawns. “What do you mean?”

Can he really not see it? Sure enough, a businessman strolls past you, his eyes locked on you as he frowns, mid-telephone call. You think he even stumbles on his words. “Just look around,” you whisper again. Someone is watching you from across the street, their head cocked.   

Xavier is already looking around. You’re on patrol; that’s sort of the point. But he trusts you, so he follows your instruction: casting his sky-blue eyes around a little more carefully. They narrow. “Sorry,” he says, because you’re usually on the same page, “what are you talking about exactly?”

You fold your arms impatiently. “People are looking at us, Xavier.”

“Oh, I…” he seems to hesitate, “I think they’re just looking at you.”

The words could be romantic, but you don’t get the impression they’re intended to be. He’s implying something. He’s uncertain. “What makes you say that?” you ask, hands moving to your hips.

He shifts awkwardly on his feet. “I think it’s your, you know—” his finger waggles in front of his mouth.

You don’t know. “My what?”

“Your moustache.”

“What?”

Your hand shoots to your upper lip, but you don’t feel anything out of the ordinary. Xavier is staring, though, so you reach for your phone and turn the camera on yourself.

A black, cartoon-villain moustache has been sketched onto your face.

You gape at your reflection. “H— how…?” you stutter, tracing your new feature. Then a memory of this morning flashes through your mind: how you’d fallen asleep on the train to work. How there were those two schoolkids, sniggering, when you’d woken up just in time for your stop. Ugh. Really?

Wait— this morning?!

“Xavier!” you exclaim, turning to him like you’d just found his sword in your back. “Why didn’t you say something?”

It’s just gone three in the afternoon, and he’s been with you for hours. “I thought you knew,” he mumbles, rubbing his neck gingerly.

“You thought I…” You’re too bewildered, too betrayed to repeat it fully. Worst of all you feel guilty; how the hell can he look so freaking innocent? You turn back to your phone, desperately trying to rub the ink from your skin. It doesn’t budge. It doesn’t fade.

“Are you ok?” Xavier asks.

Of course you’re not ok, you feel like an idiot. Your cheeks are hot and the redness is spreading to the rest of your face as you fail to reclaim any of your dignity. “No,” you spit back, “honestly, Xavier, how could you just let me walk around like I’m some kind of—”

You glance up to discover he’s no longer listening. He’s not even here; he’s over there, talking to an old man who’s sat completing a sudoku. Great. Wonderful. Why not? At least one of you is making a good impression on the citizens of Linkon City.

With your eyes close to watering, you have one last, futile attempt at wiping the moustache from your upper lip. It’s not working. Gods, you’re gonna be stuck like this, aren’t you?

Someone taps you on the shoulder, and you look up to see Xavier, back at your side. He smiles reassuringly, sporting a drawn-on moustache of his own. The ends of it are curled even more theatrically than yours.

“Xavier…” you half-laugh in surprise, your eyes watering even more. “Why would you—? Now we both look stupid.”

“I look stupid,” he corrects, running a thumb over your wet cheek. “You look really pretty, moustache or not.”

Zayne ❄

“What… happened?”

You sit across from Zayne on a picturesque park bench, like something from a postcard: blue sky stretched above, wildflowers sprouting from the grass below. Birds are singing, butterflies are flittering about, and even the doctor looks perfect— unmarred by the first half of his work day, no matter how stressful it’s been.

It’s a fairy tale you covet: a little reunion with the man you love, on the odd occasion where your lunchbreaks match up and he isn’t drowning in paperwork. And it would be a fairy tale, if it wasn’t for you. You— your uniform soaked and your hair dripping wet. The wooden bench has gone damp beneath you; you’ve literally only just sat down.

“Gee, I don’t know, Zayne,” you hiss, face almost buried in your phone, “what do you think?”

Not too far away from you, some kids are locked in a water-gun battle, their shrieks of laughter loud and infuriating. Zayne glances between you and them, making his deductions. “Why—” he starts.

“Doesn’t matter,” you sniff, wiping your forehead with the back of your sleeve. “They messed with the wrong person, and we’re gonna make sure they know it.”

“We’re going to?”  

“Yeah. Me and you. That a problem?”

You shoot him a glare that sends a shiver down even his spine. “No,” he answers quickly— a survival instinct, uncharacteristically submissive— but his composure returns as you turn back to your phone. “Haven’t you got—”

Another dark look.

“Haven’t we got better things to do than start a war with some children in the park?”

“Not really. Justice is justice.” You shrug before pointing a finger at yourself. “Deepspace hunter.” Then at him. “Cardiac surgeon. Precision is kind of our thing, right? They really don’t stand a chance.” You’re laughing, now: “Gods, I almost feel sorry for them.”

Zayne has been watching your descent into madness with a calmness that does him credit. When he interrupts, it’s gentle. “I don’t think—”

Too gentle; you don’t hear him. “Pick your poison, Dr. Zayne!” Your phone is angled at him to reveal the all-too accessible armoury of an online store. “You’ve got your standard water pistols. Your water blasters.” You’re scrolling and indicating his choices as though you’re the salesman. “This one has two options, single shot or power shot, and— ooh! Look at this one! The AquaJet3000!”

With a soft laugh, Zayne pushes your phone out of his face. He would buy anything you’re selling, although— having seen the prices on your screen— he knows he’d be bankrupt within a week. “Linkon City is fortunate to have you defending it, and whilst I would be honoured, as always, to fight at your side, I was hoping we could… relax. You’re on a break, remember?”

You pout as he peels a wet strand of hair from your cheek. “Justice doesn’t take breaks.”

“Well, justice is going to have to on this occasion, because I said so.”

“Really?”

“Yes,” he chuckles. “Besides, you shouldn’t fight fire with fire, or water with water. A lot of people look up to you, you know. Me included. So, set a better example. Save violence for the Wanderers.”  

It ought to be patronising: him, lecturing you on right and wrong when you’ve already added three types of water-gun to your virtual cart. He’s always so righteous. So collected. So moral. You want to be mad at him, but how can you be when he’s looking at you like that? Like he thinks the world of you, even when you’re plotting revenge against ten-year-olds.

You have a point to make, so you fold your arms and turn your back on him, even though he’s making your heart feel so frustratingly warm and fuzzy.

“I have something for you,” he says quietly.

To hell with the point. “What is it?” you ask, spinning eagerly around.

He smiles as he retrieves something he’d concealed behind him. It’s a small-ish box, pale pink, with patterns printed to emulate white lace. There’s a logo in the centre and you recognise it at once. “No way,” you enthuse, “that new bakery finally opened?”

You’ve both been waiting for months. “I couldn’t resist when I saw it,” he confirms, lifting the lid. Inside sit two unbelievably pretty cupcakes, buttercream icing spiralled high and adorned with sprinkles of gold leaf. Zayne plucks one from the box. “Perhaps—” he offers it to you— “perhaps this can make you feel better? Without us needing to, well… attack children.”

You giggle; it does sound pretty stupid when he puts it like that. “Thanks, Zayne,” you grin, reaching out for your reward. You’re glad one of you is vaguely sensible— those water-guns were expensive.

The cake is an inch from your fingers when a jet of water sends it flying from Zayne’s hand. It lands at your feet with an unceremonious splat, and from somewhere behind you, laughter roars.

The doctor blinks down at it in disbelief, his hand still hovering beside yours. He grieves for a long moment, then looks to you solemnly like you’re a colleague and he’s about to ask for a scalpel:

“The AquaJet3000,” he says.  

Rafayel 🎨

“Rafayel, call me stupid one more time, and I’ll—”

You’ll… you’ll… what? He’s looking back at you with wide eyes, his hands frozen when they had just a moment ago been drying the plate you’d handed him. He has some nerve, pretending he’s the victim when he’s spent the entire evening insulting you. This is supposed to be a wholesome moment of domesticity— doing the dishes together before he has to disappear to a late-night gala— so why is he ruining it? Ever since you got home, it’s been: so how was your day, stupid? Hey, stupid, want a hand washing up?

He said he was fine with you sitting out the gala tonight, but maybe he’s not.

“I’ll do this,” you finish, lifting a palmful of suds from the sink and raising them to your lips, ready to blow.

“Puh-lease, you bought me this suit. You really think I can’t tell when you’re bluff— hey, wait! Stop!”

You do blow the bubbles at him, and he recoils, holding the plate and dishcloth up to defend himself. He blocks some of them, but not all of them. “Honestly, Raf, if you’re not ok with me skipping out on tonight then you can just say so.”  

He puts the plate gently aside. “I mean, of course I’m sad you’re not coming,” he thinks aloud as he sets about sweeping bubbles from his suit, “but I’m ok with it, really. You’ve had, like, a crazy week at work. You deserve a quiet night in.”

Compassion? Really? After you just—? Ugh. “So why were you being so mean, then?” you sigh, taking the cloth from him and dabbing away the bubbles he’s missed.

“Mean?”

“You’ve called me ‘stupid’ like fifty times in the span of, what— three hours?”

“Yeah,” he shrugs innocently. “Because you told me to.”

Huh? You stop what you’re doing. “Since when did I—”

He reaches over your shoulder and you feel fingers on your back. “See?” he answers, bringing a piece of paper in front of you. It looks like it’s been torn hastily from a notebook, and it says, in bold, capital letters: ‘CALL ME STUPID!!’

You take the note from Rafayel sheepishly, your lips parted in surprise. How did it—? Wait. “Those kids!” you exclaim, thinking back on your walk home from work. “Oh I knew they were spouting bullshit when they said they saw a Wanderer!”

Your dish-washing companion doesn’t seem impressed by your lightbulb moment. He’s watching you, confusion etched across his face, but you can see right through it. “Rafayel!” you slap a soapy hand to his chest, “you had to call me stupid that many times before telling me?”

“I thought you wrote it. Pet names can be weird sometimes— I don’t know what you’re into.”

He’s still acting. Still lying. Fine, two can play at that game.  

You fall deathly silent, turning back to the sink to retrieve the bowl you’d dropped in there the last time he’d called you your new ‘pet name’. “I guess it suits me,” you mumble, half to yourself.

“What d’you mean, cutie?”

He can call you cutie as many times as he wants; you’re out for blood. You give the bowl another once-over with a sponge. “Some hunter I am. Can’t even tell when some kids are messing with me.”

Rafayel frowns. “Hey, it’s been a long week, yeah? You’re just tired.”

“Tired,” you echo, and you drop the bowl back into the water with a dramatic plop. “Tired? No. I’m exhausted. No matter what I do, no matter how hard I work, there’s always… something. To make me feel like an idiot. To make me feel… stupid.”

“Hey,” Rafayel tries again, and his voice is fraught with worry. “Don’t say stuff like that. You’re not stupid. I’m stupid. I’m supposed to make you feel better and instead I was just screwing around. I’m sorry, ok? Don’t be sad. Please?”

He wraps his arms around you and pulls you close, resting his chin on the top of your head. You don’t give in, not at first, but then you hug him back. “Thanks, Raf. I’m ok— really.” You hear his phone buzz from where he’s left it on the counter. “You should go. Thomas will kill you if you’re late.”

“Nah, he needs me,” the artist chuckles. “You get first dibs, though. You sure you don’t want me to stay?”

“Yeah,” you laugh quietly back; your heart not quite in it. “Quiet night in, remember? Go on. Go.”

He steps away from you, though not before planting a light kiss on your cheek. “I’ll make it up to you when I get home,” he says, collecting his phone and the rest of his things. He gives you another kiss when he’s done, dodging your efforts to shoo him away. “Miss you already, cutie.”

“Go!”

And he does as he’s told this time, no matter how listlessly. It’s sweet he wants to stay and make things better, but he already has— he just doesn’t know it yet. It wasn’t the hug. It wasn’t the apology. You lean back against the counter with a smirk, savouring the view as he leaves.

It might have something to do with the note you’ve stuck on his back.

…

Rafayel retrieves the note the moment he closes the door behind him, stuffing it smugly into his pocket. He’ll have a story ready for you, by the time he gets home, about just how much you humiliated him. About how he walked around for a good hour before Thomas spotted the note and gave him a lecture about his ‘image’.

He smiles to himself; he’s a really good boyfriend.

Sylus 🩸

“You should know better than to keep me waiting, sweetie.”

Oh, great. This is just what you need.

You peek over the saddle of your motorcycle from where you’re crouched behind it. “Hey, Sylus,” you greet. The man is watching you, his arms folded. “Yeah, sorry.”

“Sorry?” he repeats, an eyebrow raised sceptically. “What— no ‘patience is a virtue, Sylus,’ no ‘oh please, Sylus, we both know you’ve nothing better to do?’”

You had disappeared behind your bike again, but you steal another glance at him. “Wow,” you marvel, “is this what you did before we met? Have arguments with yourself?”

“More or less,” he smiles dryly, then shrugs: “I’m not bad, as far as sparring partners go. You of all people can vouch for that. Besides, what were my other options? Mephisto?” He laughs. “Luke and Kieran?” He laughs harder.

“I’d rate Mephisto above you,” you add distractedly, no longer looking at him.

“Is that right?” he purrs, and it’s very obvious he doesn’t believe you.

He sounds close— too close— so you stand, re-entering his eyeline so he doesn’t come closer. Gods, this is embarrassing. Those stupid kids; he’s gonna have a field day if he finds out. “Yeah.” You wipe your hands slowly with a cloth, disguising the fact that your mind is scrambling. “The things that bird comes up with, just… scathing, honestly. Emotionally devastating.”

“Oh really?” Sylus tuts. “That’s awful. I can’t imagine where he gets it from.”

You smile back at him, resting your hands on your hips. You do feel bad, actually; you’d completely forgotten you were supposed to meet him this morning for breakfast before work. He’d received no texts to cancel. No calls. How long was he waiting at that sweet little café you’d picked out?

Then again, this morning isn’t really going to your plan, either.

“Something wrong with your bike?” he asks, because he’s already figured out that much. “Besides the usual, I mean.”

Your smile drops. Your whole act drops. “It’s nothing, Sylus.”

“You’ve already stood me up this morning, sweetie. Are you really going to lie to me, too?”

You let out an exasperated sigh. Fine. “Some kids graffitied it, ok?”

“This piece of junk? Really?” He toes the front wheel of it, then catches onto the withering look you’re sending him. “Oh no,” he tries again, with absolutely no enthusiasm, “what a dreadful crime against such an advanced, state-of-the-art vehicle.”

Prick. You keep the label behind tight lips as he wanders around the motorcycle to join you, assessing the damage. You’re stood by a bucket of water and the litany of rags you’ve used to try to scrub it clean— each one a testament to your failure. The sight alone makes you want to burst into tears. The skin of your hands is pink. Raw.

You feel cheated; you wish you were at that café right now.

Sylus taps a finger against his cheek, eyes narrowed pensively. They’re spoiled for choice of what to look at: misspelt obscenities, a generous number of crude symbols. All in permanent marker, naturally. “An improvement, wouldn’t you say?”

“I wouldn’t say. No.”

“Art is subjective.”

“Yeah? So is your face.” Not your best effort. Sylus glances up at you, amused. “Shut up,” you dismiss proactively. “Besides, this is my work vehicle. I can’t ride around Linkon on this. It would be—”

“Too staggering a blow to your professional reputation,” he finishes like he’s bored.

“This isn’t funny, Sylus.”

He points at a particularly chaotic drawing of a penis. “It is.”

You smack his hand away. “It’s not.” Your voice wobbles, ever so slightly betraying you. This is serious; you could get in trouble. You stare down at the graffiti, despair setting in.

Keys dangle in front of your eyes. “Here. Borrow my bike.”

“You’re joking, right?” You swat at them. “You really think that’s gonna help? Me— rolling up to work on a bike that costs twice my annual salary?”

“Twice? That’s cute, kitten.”

You glare at him, any guilt you felt about standing him up long gone. “Can you just stop? Being you? For like, two seconds? Please? This is the last thing I need today, Sylus. I’m gonna be late. I’m gonna embarrass myself in front of everyone. And worst of all? I was actually looking forward to seeing you this morning. Before all of this—” you gesture dejectedly at your bike— “all of this shit happened.”

Sylus is looking back at you, his arms crossed again. He does nothing for a few, slow seconds, and it’s just long enough to make you feel like you’re overreacting. Then he leans over, running a hand across your bike, and you watch as the graffiti flakes and lifts, turning to ash under the influence of his Evol.

He brushes his hands together when he’s done, straightening with a hmph and a self-satisfied smirk. Content (more than content— thoroughly impressed with himself) he turns back to you. Your bottom lip has dropped in surprise and he chuckles, reaching a finger to lift your chin. “You can thank me later, sweetie, and I intend to spend the entire day thinking about how you might. Don’t disappoint me, hmm?”  

You’re still silent, and it takes him a moment to realise you’re bristling with something other than awe and adoration. He frowns. “Sweetie?”

The second ‘sweetie’ breaks you, and not in the way he wants. You slap his chest, hard; he doesn’t really feel it.

“Sylus! You could have done that the whole time?!”

Caleb 🍎

“Sit still, dear.”

Sit still? How are you supposed to sit still when you’re brimming with rage? Every inch of your body is tense, waiting, yearning for you to spring into action. It wants you to retaliate. It wants revenge.

“I can’t, Grandma,” you whine, crossing your arms as if to hold yourself back. You’re still fidgeting on the chair as she navigates your hair with her scissors. “This sucks. Everything sucks. The only thing that could make this worse is if—”

You hear the front door swing open, then closed. Why couldn’t you keep your mouth shut?

Sure enough, Caleb strolls into the kitchen mere moments later. “What’s happenin’ here?” he asks, dropping a bag of groceries onto the countertop.

“Nothing,” you mumble. “Grandma’s giving me a haircut, that’s all.”

“Ok. So what’s actually happening here?” he tries again. He’s known you forever, after all; he can tell when you’re lying.

You swing a foot out at his shin as he tries to step closer. Nuh-uh. No investigating. No sticking his nose where it doesn’t belong. “Nothing,” you hiss again. “Gods, Caleb. What’s your problem?”

“You’re my problem, pipsqueak.” He uses his foot to push yours away. “At least Gran’s on my side—” his amethyst eyes seek her— “can you tell me what’s going on? Please? Pretty please?”

A hand breaks their eye contact. “You don’t have to answer that, Grandma.” You glare Caleb down. “The DAA has no authority here.”

“It does.”

“It doesn’t.”

“It does.”

“It doesn’t.”

Grandma sighs; she’s had far too many years of this. “You know Mr and Mrs. Lee’s children? Down the road? Well, they—”

“Grandma!” You round on her. How long did she last— all of three seconds? You bitterly regard Caleb, your voice dark with resentment: “They put gum in my hair, ok?”

“Really?”

“Yeah." He wanted the truth, didn’t he? “They lured me in with some nonsense about a Wanderer. I didn’t realise until, well, until…” You wave at your hair. “Too late.”

He considers the story, then shrugs. It’s clearly not as thrilling as he was anticipating, because he disappears from the kitchen, leaving you and Grandma in peace once more. The silence is as uncomfortable as it is sudden. You’d expected laughter— a lot of laughter. Teasing. Maybe even a shot at how gullible you are.

You release an uneasy breath, resting your head back on the chair.

“Sit still,” Grandma repeats, nudging you, prompting you to sit up straight. “I’ve almost got it. Just one more… here!” There’s a decisive snip.

“Thanks, Grandma.” You slump again, staring up at the ceiling.

You’re not sure what you’re waiting for. Maybe for the blush of your cheeks to cool, or for a Wanderer to spring out of the floor, killing you, so you can be dead and not so embarrassed. You hear heavy footsteps— Caleb returning— and you really wish the Wanderer would hurry up.

“Caleb…” Grandma’s tone is wary. “What are you doing?”

“What does it look like?”  

You readjust your head so you can look at him. He’s clutching what must be a dozen rolls of toilet paper; they’re piled up to just below his chin, almost spilling out over his arms. “How about it, pipsqueak?” he asks as he struggles to balance them. “A little team-up between the DAA and The Association— wanna do your part in reclaiming your neighbourhood?”

Now that’s more like it. “Fuck yes! Sorry, Grandma.”

You’re really as bad as each-other. She tuts reproachfully as you leap out of your chair, and she's disappointed, but not surprised.

[baby-tini]

Meet the Todorokis

@supernatural-hunter1 @dabisangle

Dabi told you about his family before he did the reveal to the whole of Japan. He told you about how abusive his father was, how his mom did nothing to help, how his siblings didn't understand what it felt like to be in his position and how he hated his youngest brother. From the little information he'd give you, throughout the months of being together, you.cpuld tell there was some serious trauma and his home life and family were anything but loving. Aside from the physical scars, you knew there was some pretty bad mental scarring, even though he tried to play off the hurt and pain by being cocky and nonchalant.

When the heroes found out you were involved with the league and Dabi, especially romantically, you became a top priority for Endeavor to capture and lock away, so that's what happened. When you were caught, you were sent to Tartarus and servailenced 24/7, heavily armed guards would be posted in your room and right outside of it. The room littered with cameras, there was an inch of privacy in that tiny space you now called home. But you knew, you knew Dabi would save you, it would just take a little time, until then, you had to grin and bare it.

It was the same routine everyday, sitting in that small, padded room with cameras covering inch after inch, doing nothing but letting your mind drift away and thinking about the league but especially Dabi. How was he doing, what was he doing, did he miss you, was he even thinking about you? You didn't doubt he was but curiosity was eating at your brain and heart, taking over your thoughts. So, it was a big surprise when you were told you had visitors and the Todorokis, nonetheless. They were all there, Rei, Fuyumi, Natsuo, Shoto.... and I guess the man that Touya had to call father was there too. It would've been sweet too have such a messed up family if you didn't know their dirty little secrets and the reasons for visiting in the first place. They all looked empty- heartbroken even, their eyes full of sorrows and regret while Reis eyes leaked salty tears ,only to be comforted by daughter... huh, you wonder if any of them tried to comfort Touya that way. Then again, given the family and their dynamic, you highly doubt it. But, sat in front of this fucked up family as they stared you down and asked invasive questions, you started too understand it wasn't out of love for Touya, it was because of guilt and that just pissed you off a lot more. They weren't trying too right their wrongs, it was because they knew that they were horrible for what they did and they tried too quiet their guilt. So you can't really blame yourself for snapping and going off on that horrible man- thing. That horrible thing. "What would you say you're relationship to my son is." You scowled at Enjis question, a scoff falling from your lips unintentionally but you didn't try too stop it. Your eyes narrowed at that abusive man, only obsessed with the image of the so-called greater-good. He didn't even ask how Touya has been, how much the thought of his old man being praised for being a hero when in actuality, he was more of a villain then most were, ate at Touya every night, kept him up for days- weeks even- on end. "Don't. Call him that, Touya is no longer your son, he is no longer the boy that yearned for your praise and approval, no longer the boy that was willing to kill himself too make you happy. He's better, different now. His eyes have been opened to your disgusting ways of bullshit parenting." It was said more aggressively then you thought it was but, he needed too understand Dabi would never be Touya- their Touya, ever again, he was your Touya now and forever.

Endeavors hands tightened into fists at that, while his wifes eyes dropped, looking away and squeezing tightly as she breathed in a stuttered inhale. "He's still my son, I wasn't the best fath-" there's a quick cut off from you as you shifted in your seat. "No. You weren't even a father to begin with, so don't give me that bullshit speech that you're sorry and you regret what you did because I don't care to listen to it, you can give your traumatized family that bullshit but I won't listen to it." It's spat at him, your voice raising in pitch towards the end of your sentence as you scowled at the false hero. You didn't mean to go on a tangent rant but.. it happened. "You, Enji Todoroki, abused your children. You attempted to use them for your own selfish desires and make up for your pathetic failures and all your overwhelming undoings. You. Are no man- especially not a father. No father would ever. Force their child to take on such a burden, so young in their life. No man would ever put his hands on a woman- much less their wife. The woman who gave you those children in the first place. The woman who took care of them and bathed them, dressed them, read them bed time stories while you chased after a dream you, yourself acknowledged would never happen on your own, so you tried to live through your children. And you, Rei Todoroki. The first time that man put his fucking hands on you or your children, you should've left him. Don't ever let a man put his fucking hands on your children. Ever. You. Are no mother. No mother would throw boiling water on her sons face because she couldn't stand the piece of shit man that she was forced too marry. Your kids are their own people and have their own dreams. The reason the both of you even have kids was selfish from the get-go. I'm happy Touya got out- got away. None of your kids deserved that, but especially Touya. Now leave." By the end of it, Rei was in tears and Enjis teeth were clenched so tight, you thought they were gonna break as his fists were tight and shaking, his knuckles turning pale, ghost white as his eyes became wet and started too sting. The family left quickly after that as the door slammed behind them.

You couldn't wait for Dabi to end Enji Todorokis pathetic life of lies.

[bliss4boo]

Fortnite👾

Ellie is what you would call a "gamer" I guess? She was always playing some game, whether it was GTA, Fortnite, Call of duty, etc. Honestly, she was really good but sometimes it seemed she was more focused on the game then you.

Just this afternoon, Ellie was on call playing Fortnite on her pc. You heard her screaming and swearing for 2 hours straight so you decided to go check it out. You walk in and Ellie didn't even notice because of her head set. "Baby." You called out but she didn't hear you. So you tried again but this time louder. "Baby!" She still didn't hear you. So then you yelled louder. "Ellie!" Then she finally took off one side of her headphones, her eyes still glued to the screen. "What?" She asked a little annoyed because you disrupted her. "Don't use that attitude with me."  You scolded her and she just rolled her eyes and sighed. "Fine. What do you want?" Her eyes were still glued to the screen.

"I wanna go to grocery store." You say crossing your arms. "Then go?" She says confused on why you're telling her, she it's clicking the mouse and is in the middle of sniping someone. "But I want you to come with me!" You slightly pout and she ignores you from being so locked in the game. Suddenly she dies.

She starts swearing at her friends on call. "What the fuck! I clearly shot that stupid ass banana!" You just roll your eyes and leave the room. You were really sad that Ellie would choose the game over spending time with you. Sulking, you go get your keys and go to the car.

Ellie suddenly noticed you gone and then wonders why you're not there. "Guys I gotta go." She tells her friends as she ends the call. She makes her way towards the kitchen and sees your keys and you gone. So quickly she goes outside and sees you in your car. "Wait!! Baby!" She calls out for you and you look up. What an asshole? She ignores you this whole time but when it's convenient for her she'll come around? You just flip her off and leave for the grocery store. Ellie sits their dumbfounded. Did she seriously just leave me?

After a while you come back and Ellie's sitting on the porch pouting. When she sees you her eyes light up and she rushes towards the car. Quickly, she opens your door. "Baby! Im so sorry! I shouldn't have ignored you and listened to you! It's just I got to focused..." she looks down. You can tell she feels really bad. "It's whatever." You say still a bit upset. "But...you can make it up to me." You smirk at her and she looks up. "What? I'll do anything!" She looks at you not even breaking a smile. "Bring all the groceries inside." You say bluntly. As soon as you finished that sentence Ellie opened the trunk and grabbed 3 grocery bags.

As she walked back inside the house with the bags you noticed her toned arms. You accidentally started staring. "Hey my eyes are up here." She says looking at you while she puts the groceries down. Your eyes instantly flicker up meeting hers. "Baby, why don't you lay down and I'll put the groceries away? Hm?" She looks at you smiling. You giggle at her sweetness. She really felt bad so you let her put them away and lay on the couch.

A little later Ellie comes and sits beside you. "Babyyyy." She whines a little. "Mhm?" You look over confused on why she's whining. "Can I teach you how to play Fortnite?" She looks up at you with pleading eyes, but you turn down the offer. "Hell no." She starts to pout. "But whyyyy!!" She starts to lean on you. "Because, I'm gonna embarrass myself!" You say trying not to smile. She looks up at you still pouting. "But I'll help you." You just roll your eyes. "Fine." You give in and sigh.

Ellie set up her pc and Fortnite ready to go. She had you sit in the chair and put on the head set. "This is so stupid." You mumble annoyed. "Shh." Did she just shush you? Once the game loads you have no idea what to do. "The fuck am I supposed to click?" You look up at her. All she does is sigh. "Okay. How about you sit on my lap and I'll be able to help you better." You just shrug "Okay." 

You stand up and she sits in the chair patting her lap for you to sit. You sit down and she wraps her arms around your waist. "Okay ready?" She says in a low voice against your neck. You hum in response.

Throughout the game Ellie would occasionally put her hands on top of yours helping you. "So do it just like...that." 

When you killed someone she would get so happy. "Fuck yeah!"

Suddenly you realized their was only one more person in the game and you knew you were cooked. "Ellie." You say her hands still on your waist. "Mhm?" She hummed back. "How about you do this part?" She nods and lean back on her chest letting her take control of the pc. Swiftly and easily she kills the person and the screen says "Victory Royale".

Ellie hugs your waist pulling you closer. "You did it baby." She places a soft kiss on your cheek. You are a smiling and flustered mess. "I think we both did." You turn to face her sitting on her lap. She smiles at you and touches the string of hair in front of your face. You can't take it anymore and you lean in kissing her softly. She cups your cheeks kissing you back.

Okay that's it!

I feel like this is kinda trash😭

[wandanatsgf]

Lovers, Vampires, Strangers Part 2

Pairing: Vampire!Wanda x Vampire!Reader

Word Count: 2886

Summary: This story starts in the year 1850. You and your girlfriend Wanda are happy together. You have everything you could ever want, until she secretly turns you into a vampire. After a horrible accident, you leave her and that life behind. Now 173 years later, she's come to ask you for a favor.

Part 1

Part 2: 2023, The Second Shittiest Year of my Life

“What do you want Wanda?” I ask the girl who was frantically banging on my door.

“I need a place to stay for a few days, please,” she begs. It makes me laugh. She really thinks I would help her after what she did? She’s insane.

“No way,” I tell her.

“Please Y/n,” she asks again.

“No,” I say. “I’m not letting you into my home or life again, Wanda.”

I go to shut the door when a small bullet sized wooden stake comes whizzing through the air. It flies through the small crack in my door from where I haven’t shut it all the way. I hear Wanda yell out some cuss words, while I barely manage to dodge the bullet. I should’ve just shut the door and let Wanda fend for herself, this is her problem after all. But I, being the idiot that I am, didn’t.

“Fine you can come in,” I say, pulling the brunette girl inside with me. I quickly shut and lock the door.

“What the hell was that Wanda?” I exclaim as I run through my house, grabbing the first bag I see. I put the guns and knives that II keep hidden throughout my home in there, in case whoever is outside tries to go after me, since I too am a vampire.

“That was Natasha,” she says like that explains everything.

“She’s a girl I…used to be with. She’s a little angry is all.”

“A little angry?!? She just tried to kill you Wanda.”

“Yes well vampire hunters tend to do that Y/n.”

“What the actual hell Wanda. You brought a vampire hunter to my front door?!?”

“Not on purpose. I didn't know she was a vampire hunter when I was sleeping with her. And I thought I had lost her back in Budapest. Clearly someone is determined to kill me.” Wanda rolls her eyes as she talks, as if this Natasha girl is a mere annoyance, like a gnat or a fly, and not a hunter trying to kill her.

I’m so mad at her I don’t even know what to say. I finish gathering my things, but I leave my phone in case someone tries to use it to find my location. I make sure I avoid all windows as I make my way to the secret exit of my house that will lead me to the other side of town, the exit I had installed in case of emergencies just like this. I go to the bookshelf door I had installed and open it.

“Are you coming or not?” I call out to Wanda, who was currently just standing there. Wanda quickly moves to where I am, not avoiding windows. Which leads to them being shot out by Natasha.

“Great another thing I have to deal with,” I mumble under my breath.

“What was that?” Wanda snarkily asks.

“I said great that’s another thing I have to deal with. Because of you,” I add on.

“Oh please don’t act like your life was all sunshine and rainbows before I got here,” she says as I lead her down a staircase. “We both know you were lonely without me.”

“Really? I’m the lonely one?” I say. “I can assure you, Wanda I have been anything but lonely since you left.”

“You really think Kate Bishop can fill my place that easily?”

“And how do you know about her?” Wanda says nothing, but it’s clear she had been keeping tabs on me.

“I should’ve known you’d never leave me alone, Wanda. You were always the possessive type.” I turn down a corridor and open the door. I walk out and into open air. The passage leads to a road two streets over where my getaway car is stashed.

“I’m not possessive. I just don’t want anyone to have what’s mine,” she says. I chuckle under my breath, reading through her lie. I choose to ignore her and walk over to a car, praying that it’s unlocked. Of course it isn’t, but i guess when you have vampire strength it doesn’t really matter. I get into the car in no time and I make quick work of hot wiring it so I can get away, and hopefully leave Wanda here. I get the car on and I climb in, quickly locking the doors so Wanda can't.

"What do you think you're doing?" Wanda asks, clearly annoyed. She stomps her feet like a child and it makes me laugh.

"I'm leaving," I say through my laughter.

"Not without me you aren't."

"Yes I am. I got you away from Natasha, which you're welcome for by the way. Now I'm off to save my own skin. Now get out of my way or be roadkill Wanda. Your choice." Wanda refuses to move, much to my annoyance.

"Move Wanda," I scream out.

"No," she screams back. I can feel my annoyance rising with every passing second, and then Natasha runs around the corner, guns blazing. I unlock the car and allow Wanda to hop in before I floor it. I pull out of the parking space, driving away as fast as I can, leaving Natasha in the dust.

"Happy?" I finally ask once we have gotten a little further down the road.

"Yes, very." I can tell she is pleased with herself, something that I absolutely loathe. I choose to ignore her so I don’t blow up.

We drive for what feels like forever, and I being a vampire would know what forever feels like. So trust me when I say it felt like forever.

Wanda does her best to annoy me, but I ignore her every time, not in the mood for her games. Eventually I pull into a decent looking hotel on the side of the road. I’m not sure where we are, but we’ve driven for at least 16 hours straight and I’m tired. Well as tired as you can be when you’re undead.

“Here we are,” I say as I park the car.

“Where are we?”

“I don’t know. But we’re safe aren’t we? You could be a bit more thankful,”

“It would be safer if we knew where we are,” Wanda retorts.

“Well why don’t you work on that while I get us a room.”

“Fine,” Wanda says, for once not starting an argument.

I happily hop out of the car, grateful to be away from Wanda, and I enter the lobby.

“Hi I need two rooms,” I say to the front desk lady.

“I’m sorry we only have one room available.”

“Fine I guess that’ll work,” I grumble. It really doesn’t work for me but I’ll just have to suck it up…or sleep in my car. Honestly I’d do anything to not be near Wanda for longer than I have to.

“And how will you be paying?”

“I won’t be. The bill will be comped by the hotel,” I tell the girl. I look in her eyes and change the tone of my voice, activating my compulsion.

“Here you go,” the girl says cheerily, handing me my room key.

“Thanks.”

I walk back to the car where I had left Wanda to give her the bad news.

“Unfortunately they only had one room,” I grumble, throwing her a room key.

“Don’t sound so upset. It’ll be just like old times,” she says, sending me a wink. I let out a scoff at her words.

“I’d rather sleep on the cement than in a bed with you Wanda.”

“Fine have it your way,” she says. She gets out of the car and walks into the hotel and to our room. I try and make myself comfortable in the car, but it’s no use. It’s too small and too hot. I grab one of my guns that I had brought and tuck it into the waistband of my pants then I reluctantly go inside, bracing myself for the snarky comment I know Wanda is about to say.

“Aww I knew you’d change your mind. I’m just too irresistible.”

“God you’re so full of yourself. But no I’m in here because the car was uncomfortable. It has nothing to do with you Wanda.”

“Sure, whatever helps yourself sleep at night.”

God this woman is infuriating. I choose to ignore her last comment.

“So you’re not talking to me now?” I give her the silent treatment.

"Real mature y/n."

"Whatever Wanda. I'm going to go get us some essentials, try not to get into trouble while I'm gone," I say, just wanting to get out of here and away from Wanda.

"Aww sounds like someone cares about me," she teases.

"No I just don't want all of this hard work to go to waste," I say as I walk out the door. It's currently 10pm at night so luckily anywhere I go should be jut about empty. I drive to the nearest Walmart, leaving Wanda in the dust at the hotel. I get us some toiletries and snacks (because yes even though we are vampires and undead we still like human food). My next stop is a blood bank, where I steal as much blood as I can. I prefer it this way over drinking straight from the source. It's much cleaner and not so scarring to humans. After about two hours I make my way back to the hotel, carrying my shopping bags inside, only to find Wanda gorging herself on a member of the cleaning staff.

"Wanda," I yell out. She drops the maid and her face takes on a guilty look, like a child who knows they are doing something bad.

"Yes?" She tries to adopt a nonchalant tone but it isn't working.

"I literally told you not to get into trouble and the first thing you do is get into trouble."

"But I was hungry," she says, as if that justifies her actions.

"I don't give a damn if you're hungry Wanda. If I tell you to do something so do it."

"That's funny I don't remember ever taking orders from you, but you sure did take a lot from me," Wanda says, referencing the times when the two of us would sleep together, before I hated her guts.

“Well things have changed Wanda. I’m trying to keep us alive and away from your vampire hunter ex. So either listen to me or leave.”

“Fine,” is all she says. She goes off to the bathroom to shower while I heal the woman Wanda had just dropped. I compel her to forget anything had ever happened, and off she goes back to work.

I close the door behind her and I put my grocery bags down and put things away. After I’m done and had a snack and some blood, I tuck my gun out of my waistband and put it on the small side table. I jump into bed. The bed is rock hard. There’s absolutely no give or bounce in it whatsoever, but I guess an aching back is a small price to pay for safety.

“Move over,” Wanda says once I had finally gotten myself comfortable.

“No,” is all I say back.

“Yes. Move or I’ll make you move y/n.”

I refuse to move, ignoring the glares that Wanda throws at me.

“Fine have it your way.” She walks over to me and picks me up as if I weigh nothing. I try to resist, but it's pointless, and she moves me anyway.

"I'm older than you and I'm stronger than you. Next time it would be wise to do as you're told," she whispers into my ear. Her words have me blushing. A fact that I try to hide form her, but of course she notices.

"Did my words make you needy baby?"

"Fuck off Wanda," I say, but it doesn't come out as strong as I want it to.

"No baby I think you want me to fuck you, isn't that right?"

Her dirty words send my thoughts racing back to the times when we had slept together and how good it felt. But that was before she hurt me, and this is now. And now I don't like her. Even if she's gorgeous and makes me feel good. She's still the woman who turned me against my will. She's still the woman who hurt me, the woman I hate. So I form my resolve.

"No goodnight Wanda," are the next words that come out of my mouth. Wanda's mouth opens and closes like a fish, she's shocked that I didn't give in. I get up and turn off the lights and the two of us lay there in silence. I'm sure Wanda is seething in silence at being told no, but it isn't my problem. I quickly fall asleep, and I only wake up when I hear a loud banging noise.

The door to our room is kicked in, making us jump out of bed. In comes a brunette woman I don't recognize.

“Oh great and who’s this? Another one of your exes?”

“Actually yes,” Wanda and the woman sat at the same time. The woman walks closer to the bed, while Wanda and I try to walk further away without blocking yourselves in.

“Of course it is,” I say rolling my eyes. “How’d you piss this one off?”

“She may or may not be a vampire hunter also. So y’know when she found out about me she wasn’t exactly my biggest fan,” Wanda whispers to you.

“Really Wanda? You sleep with two fucking vampire hunters when you’re a vampire yourself. Are you stupid?” I whisper back.

“Haven’t I already proven that yes I am stupid.”

“I guess you’ve got a point there,” I say.

"Are you two done arguing now?" The woman asks.

"Yes Maria, we're done." Ok so Maria is her name. "Can you just get this over with," Wanda says, her tone sounding exasperated.

"Oh come on Wanda, I wanna drag this out. Hurt you just like you hurt me." Maria pulls the sleeve of her black jacket off her shoulder, showing off the scars that mar it.

"What the fuck did you do?" I look at Wanda, but there's no emotions on her face.

"What I had to do to survive." Wanda glares at Maria, but it's not the playful one she has been giving you all day. This is a true glare. The kind that says I want you dead.

Maria lunges and Wanda deflects her punch while you try and grab your car keys, which are all the way across the room. You almost make it, but then Maria grabs you by your hair, pulling you back. You claw at her arm, digging your nails into her skin. She shrieks and lets you go, turning her attention back to Wanda.

"How'd you find me anyway?" Wanda asks as she ducks under Maria's fist.

"Your little pet led me right to you. She wasn't as inconspicuous as she thought at that blood bank. I was just going to kill her, but then I realized she was with you, and well, I didn't want to waste such a delicious opportunity." Wanda's eyes turn a dark black color, something that only happens when a vampire is truly emotional, and strikes Maria, making the woman stumble. While she's disoriented I run to the side table and grab my gun. I hate using these things on humans, but if it means I get to live I'll do it. I aim for her leg and pull the trigger.

"That should keep her occupied for a while, now let's go," I tell Wanda. We both run out of the room, car keys in my hand. We both jump in the car, leaving Maria behind in the hotel room.

"Looks like being attacked wasn't my fault this time," Wanda says once our adrenaline has finally gone down.

"Well you still dated this one too so I'm sure this is somehow also your fault."

"Ok whatever you say," Wanda says, although I know she doesn't agree with me. "So we've got Natasha and Maria on our tails now, so where do we go now? With the both of them following us, there aren't many places that would be safe."

"I might know a place," I say. "It's like a safehouse of sorts."

"Why didn't we go there in the first place?"

"it's complicated," I say, not wanting to answer her question.

"Like how Natasha and I are complicated? Or Maria and I?"

"Not exactly," is all I say, and thankfully Wanda drops the subject. We drive for a few more hours until I finally turn into a driveway. The house before us looks like any other house in the suburbs would. There's flowers and trees lining the driveway and a little picket white fence around the house. You would never suspect that a supernatural creature lives inside it.

We walk up to the door and all I feel is anxiety. I had taken us to the one place I hadn’t wanted to go to, but it’s out last option. It’s the only place I know that would be 100% safe. So reluctantly I knock on the door, praying the woman who lives on the other side of it answers, and that this won't be another decision that bites me in the butt.

[808airsoftbros]

How IVE Gets You Off From Your Games/Matches

Author: This will only contain 18+ members. If this goes well I will consider making this a future series. This idea randomly came up in my head and wanted to try this out. If you want to see more check out my Masterlist.

An Yujin

When I say Yujin has her ways of getting her way, I mean it very well. She will do anything to get what she wants and what she wants right now is your attention

The only thing that stood in her way of your attention was your damn match in Titanfall 2

"Baby~," She'd call but you'd dismiss her promising that you'll be off soon but she didn't have the patience as she was needy

Sighing knowing that you're totally focused on the game but she knew how to take away your attention from the game

After putting on a spicy cat outfit that hugged her curves, she presents herself in front of the screen of your monitor

Expectantly, the outfit worked as you immediately paused the game to stare at her and she smirked

"How about you turn off the game and play with me instead~?" She suggested and you wasted no time turning off your PC and go to the bedroom soon after

Kim Gaeul

Gaeul allowed you to play games whenever you wished whenever she was away busy with her idol life but when she returned she found you were still playing on a match longer than you were supposed to

She well established with you that she had a no video game rule when she was home because she wanted all of your attention on her

But she has better idea than whipping your ass with her belt and instead comes to a more gentle approach

"Hmmm... Isn't it getting hot in here?" She pretended to fan herself with her hands

Without warning she slowly stripped herself of her clothes, starting with her shirt and pants revealing her sexy black lacy undergarments

Although Gaeul wasn't exactly the curviest that doesn't make her less hot than her members as she has a beautiful and sexy slender body no man can't resist and you're no exception

You tried to focus on the game knowing what game she was playing at but Gaeul was ruthless showing no mercy towards you

When Gaeul took off her bra revealing her perky breasts and teasing you by squeezing them you got off the match early

Jang Wonyoung

Wonyoung would act all cute and pouty trying to use her aegyo and charming skills to get you off the game but you were unfazed which made her pout even more

"Hmph. Guess I'll have to step things up..." She huffed and went to her closet

Wonyoung would go through her closet looking for any outfit that may catch your attention

"Let's see... No not this one... Hmm... No that won't do... Ah! Perfect!" She smirked devilishly

You just started up another match when Wonyoung walked in wearing a rather revealing maid outfit, her short skirt revealing her milky long thighs and legs, and parts of her ass, her top showing off her cleavage

You paid no attention at first but when you got a good lock your jaw dropped and she grinned knowing it was working but she wanted to teach you a lesson first

"Oh baby boy, aren't you playing a match~? Oh well, I guess you ain't getting a piece of me..." She mockingly said and went upstairs

With no other choice, you shut off the game and rushed upstairs after her where she'd be waiting in the bedroom

Rei

There isn't much to be said about Rei...

Rei can be very scary if you piss her off and when she found you were still playing your PC when she wanted your attention at most she was angry

"Yah! Can't you see I'm home?!" She yelled but you didn't hear her with the noise cancellation headphones

Rei groaned in annoyance before she walked in front of you near your desk and literally flashed her A-cup-sized breasts

"I know you can't resist these you little pervert~. Why don't you come suck on them~?"

Without hesitation you shut off the game and Rei smirked victoriously as you knew you couldn't resist her

But she wanted to teach you a lesson first and would make you watch first before you can touch her

"Uh uh, no touch~." She teased before playing with herself and moaning as loudly as possible to rile you up and that night would be real active of passionate and rough love making

Liz

Liz is not really the type to punish or make any bold moves as she's quite shy

However that doesn't mean she doesn't have her sexual needs and she is desperate for your attention but you were too occupied with your game to notice her

She was tired and stressed after the long day of her idol life and errands and all she wanted was your love and attention

"Baby~? Could you maybe get off the game for a bit~?" She softly asked tugging on your shirt

Looking at the precious look in her eyes screaming that she wanted to do the deed with you

Of course being her boyfriend who would you be to deny her such a thing? Not you, right?

Immediately, you shut off your PC and told your boys that you'd be on tomorrow and Liz would smile happily

But that night would be nothing but screaming moans of your name

[purplekissinger]

I am the pretty thing that lives in the castle

And I pray one prayer - I repeat it till my tongue stiffens - Catherine Earnshaw, may you not rest as long as I am living; you said I killed you - haunt me, then!  Emily Bronte, ‘Wuthering Heights’.

Y/N became a ghost instead of Myrtle. She couldn't care less about Tom. He wishes he could say the same. Wordcount: 3k.

At their first meeting, Tom even shrieked a little (as he later justified, solely because Y/N took him by surprise). He crept towards the sinks that bathed in the bluish light of the moon, and did not at all expect that someone would jump at him from the ceiling with a  “Boo!”

“Boo,” Y/N said reluctantly and passed through him like a light bluish cloud. Tom closed his eyes, but didn’t feel anything.

“Good evening to you too,” he said, looking at her cautiously. Y/N floated up to the ceiling and was now studying the stucco, running her ghostly finger absentmindedly over the frozen gargoyle masks. “What's new?”

“As you may guess, absolutely nothing,” Y/N responded, “but I like that you’re trying to be polite. It's nice.”

“Do you feel ‘nice’?”

“Not really. I'm using words that I learned in life, but they don't quite describe my experience because I've never experienced anything like this before. I'd rather you be polite than rude, and that's my new “nice.”

Tom looked at her, a luminous spot against the black wall, which trembled slightly, like the wings of a strange butterfly. Y/N died wearing a thin shirt, but there was no longer any way she could be cold or get sick.

“If I didn’t know you were a Ravenclaw, I would have guessed by now,” he said.

“I was different when I was alive,” Y/N said judiciously. “More lively”

“You sure were”.

“No, I mean it. I can't explain it enough for you to understand, but this experience is...changing. Everything becomes so transparent, unreal. If I were the same, I would have already cried barrels of tears and flooded the toilet”.

“There is someone who is eager to do that for you,” Tom said gloomily. “Myrtle has been whining all day long, telling everyone what a wonderful friend you were.”

“Me?”  Y/N sounded surprised. “I can’t remember that we were friends. However, I did stand up for her a couple of times…”

Tom kept silent a little longer, angrily tapping his fingers on the broken edge of the sink. When falling, already dead, Y/N hit her head here. They didn't fix the sink, instead, they put a lock on the toilet door, but Tom sneaked in almost every evening.

“Is that why you’re not angry at me for killing you?” he finally asked.

“Well, technically you didn’t kill me. You just released a basilisk, which also didn't do anything against its nature, so it's kind of like an accident. Although I can understand why you didn’t tell anyone about it all,” Y/N said. “No, that’s not the reason why”.

“You are very understanding,” said Tom. “Is it okay if I stay here a little longer? I need to prepare an essay on the history of magic, and tomorrow is the final match between the badgers and Slytherin. All of Hogwarts is shaking”.

“Make yourself at home,” Y/N said indifferently.

She went down to the Chamber of Secrets with him when the time came to seal it. Hovering silently two steps behind him, she looked at the tunnels and rusty gratings that were many, many centuries old, and for the first time something like curiosity was reflected on her transparent face. For some reason this made Tom feel almost happy. Y/N’s curiosity became almost human when, rustling its scales, a huge snake slowly crawled out of the black hole in the wall and surrounded them with a ring, and put its terrible head so as to get a better look at the guests, and hissed in greeting.

“I've read that those who speak Parseltongue can look a basilisk in the eyes and survive,” said Tom, looking down, “but I don’t want to test that.”

Y/N  looked fearlessly with her dead eyes straight into the face of the creature.

“Yes, the cost of a mistake would be very high,” she said. “What is your pet's name?”

“Susie,” Tom said quietly. “It's a girl”.

Y/N smiled weakly.

“Hello, Susie,” she said. Susie let out a squeal that sounded more like a laugh. “Nice to meet you. Unfortunately, this is not for long, because we have come to seal the Chamber of Secrets forever.”

“For a while,” Tom corrected her. “Susie, I'll be back, I promise. I don't know when, but I'll be back”.

He closed his eyes and stretched his hands forward. The basilisk poked its terrible mouth into his chest, and Tom hugged her. 

***

When Tom returned to school the next year, no one noticed anything, and he even began to think that the ritual did not work, but as soon as he crossed the threshold of the toilet on the third floor, a quiet exclamation was heard from under the ceiling:

“Oh! Tom, what happened to you?”

Like a feather or a petal, Y/N slowly descended towards him. Tom looked at her and thought that flying suited her well.

“Is it that noticeable?” he asked suspiciously.

“You have become very small,” Y/N said, flying around him. “Like this,” and made a small circle with her hands. “Where did half of you go?”.

This is how he learned that ghosts see the effects of Horcruxes.

“I won’t tell anyone,” she promised. “Who was it?”

And Tom told her. About everything, about how he found out who the Gaunts were, about how he found his uncle, about the Riddles, about how scary it was to look at his father’s corpse, because he was so very alike him, about how he made a Horcrux right there while the bodies were still warm. It was easy for him, he wanted to talk, to free himself from every detail, take it out of his head, let Y/N look, discuss, judge.

She was in no hurry to judge. She just said:

“This could backfire on you.”

“How?” Tom suddenly felt offended. He just now realized that he would like her to admire what a cool magician he is, and maybe even clap her hands.

“I know more than you,” she said vaguely. “Not everything, perhaps, but more. Yes, I’m still on the threshold, but from where I’m standing, it’s clear that you acted very rashly.”

“What do you mean by ‘still’?"

She didn't answer.

All autumn, winter and summer he went to visit Y/N, even leaving textbooks in a niche by the window. It was quiet and somehow very cozy there, the light from the window was so gentle, and on sunny days the stained glass windows seemed to light up with colored lights. Y/N was silent for the most part, but seeing her figure out of the corner of his eye and hearing her thoughtful humming under her breath was... nice. This was his new “nice”, because something inside of him began to change inexplicably, irreversibly and horribly.

In winter, he asked her to come to the Yule Ball, and she agreed, and she blew out all the candles and ruined the chandelier. Oh, the chaos!.. And in the spring they celebrated Y/N’s first Deathday Party. For this occasion Tom stole a lemon pie from the kitchen, but Y/N politely thanked him and said that she couldn’t eat that. She fluttered back and forth, he chewed on the pie, they argued about the technique of using Fiendfyre, and it was a nice evening.

“I won’t come back here in the fall,” Tom said suddenly, because in fact that’s all he’s been thinking about for the last few days.

“I know,” Y/N said. “You are in seventh year. I can count to seven”.

“But I’ll come back someday,” he said stubbornly. “I just don’t know when”.

“I think I’ve already heard this once”.

“I’ll come back for Susie too, don’t you worry.”

“And what will we do then, riddle me this?”

“Seize the Ministry of Magic,” he blurted out. “Y/N, I'll miss you. Will you miss me?”

“I would like to tell you something nice in response, but I’ll tell the truth. Maybe I won't be here soon.”

He suddenly felt very hot. Then terribly cold.

“What do you mean you won’t be here? Where are you going to go?” Tom asked in an unnaturally high voice. “Aren’t you here forever?”

“Not really,” Y/N answered evasively. “You see, when I died, I was not at all ready for this”.

“Can anyone possibly be ready for this?”

“You must be ready, Tom. Now I know that. I was confused and made... the wrong choice. Stuck on the threshold. Didn't go any further. But I can step forward at any moment, I just need to think it over carefully and make a decision”.

“Can’t you step back?” Tom asked. He did not put hope into these words, but it sounded nevertheless.

“No,” Y/N answered simply. “I died, Tom”.

He rested his hand on his cheek and watched her spin, arms outstretched, right up to the ceiling, the invisible wind blowing her hair. He said:

“I regret that I didn’t know you when you were alive. I think we could become friends.”

“We could,” Y/N agreed. “But for this to happen you shouldn’t have killed me”.

Tom jumped up sharply and, his burning face hid in his hands, quickly walked out of the room. The door slammed so loudly that the noise echoed throughout the entire corridor.

***

Tom did not soon cross this threshold again.

He walked from Dumbledore's office after the first unsuccessful job interview in his life, he wanted to get out of the castle as quickly as possible so as not to endure this humiliation anymore, but his feet themselves led him to the third floor.

“You have become even smaller,” said a familiar voice, which he had only dreamed about in the morning. Loud, distant, but somehow comforting. “You're barely visible”.

Tom was silent. He looked and still did not believe that he was seeing her again. Finally he grinned and stepped forward.

“But you’re still the same,” he said.

“The same, but not quite,” Y/N objected, going down to meet him. “I thought a lot and almost decided to take a step further”.

“But not yet?”

“Not yet. This is a complex process, and it doesn't get any easier now that I have all the time in the world”.

“What exactly are you doing?” Tom asked, leaning against the wall. A forgotten feeling of comfort covered him in a cool wave. He felt like he wanted to stay.

“I’m thinking,” Y/N said. “A lot”.

“Don’t you need to, I don’t know, take revenge on your murderer?” he asked and realized that it sounded like a request. Lord Voldemort had a lot of requests that day.

“No, thanks,” said Y/N. She looked him up and down with a curious look and added: “It seems to me that there’s not much left of him anyway.”

Tom tiredly sank to the floor and tucked his legs under him. He wanted to talk to her again and again, so that she would answer sharply, but always to the point. He wanted her to scream at him, to rush to claw his eyes out, he wanted her to thirst for revenge.

“I sometimes saw you in my dreams,” he said. “Like we’re friends or something.”

“I have nothing to do with this,” Y/N said. “Have you made any living friends over the years?”

“Wait for me,” Lord Voldemort said without listening to her. He wanted it to sound like an order, but it turned out to be the third request.  “Y/N, I figured out how to defeat death.”

“Sure you did”.

“I am not lying. I really fought it all this time and almost won”.

“I wish you would know how stupid you look now.”

“Are you going to listen or not?! I tell you, wait, I will bring you back, I will fix everything, you will be alive again, I will get you out…”

“Promise?”

“Yes, yes!”

“Lord Voldemort's promise?”

She smiled. Unable to look at her, Tom stormed out.

***

The third time he returned to the castle was on May 2, 1998. He walked along the empty corridors of the third floor, and his steps echoed loudly. He was going to congratulate Y/N on her yet another Deathday. In his hands was not a lemon pie, but an Elder Wand.

The door to the girls' toilet was blown off its hinges by the explosion. He crossed the threshold and saw that the stained glass windows were broken, and golden dawn rays were pouring into the room. For a second it seemed to him that the place was empty, that he was late.

“Oh, Merlin!” a familiar laugh rang out. “What's happened to you, Tom? You have become so very small, smaller than a mouse!”

She came down from the ceiling as before, but for the first time he saw her in the pink rays of the sun, and she seemed almost alive. For the first time he saw her almost alive.

“Come with me, Y/N”, he said softly. His hand trembled a little, grasping his wand. “I will bring you back to life. I will give you back everything and  even more. Soon I will have the Resurrection Stone, and you will live again”.

She laughed even louder, twirled as if in a dance, and he felt uneasy.

“Stupid, stupid Tom,” Y/N said. “Still don’t get this, do you? Everyone gets smarter over the years, but you seem to only get dumber”.

And no Avada Kedavra could shut her up.

“But I'm glad you came. Really, I am. I wanted to say goodbye to you, Tom. I'm finally making that step”.

“No,” Lord Voldemort said in a changed voice. “Don’t. Don’t you dare”.

“Or else what?”

“Don't do this”, when was the last time he begged for something, pleaded? Was it with her?! “Stay. Stay, Y/N. I told you, I'll bring you back!”

“You forgot the magic word”. Y/N giggled. She sank to the floor and looked at him cheerfully and seriously at the same time. “I feel sorry for you, Tom”.

He had heard it once before, but coming from her it sounded and felt like “Crucio.”

“I have to go, really. There's no time to chat. I’ll tell you one more thing. Soon you will be offered a choice one last time, so please, please, don’t be stubborn. Can you do this for me?”

Tom looked at her desperately, afraid to blink, and still missed the moment when Y/N melted into the air.

***

The empty platform shines white, as if it were covered with snow. There are no trains here. No people, too. The bench blackens on the platform like a wound. A faint whimper came from under the bench.

A girl is walking along the platform.

She is wearing a thin shirt, but there is no way that she could be cold. The blue tie is fluttering in the invisible wind. She hurries to the bench, bends down, carefully takes out the bundle of robes from there, and opens it, and smiles a little and carefully presses it to her chest.

[reticent-writer]

Muzan with a child reader (around 7 yrs), who always gets lectured (for being naughty or doing something stupid lol) and gets their ear pulled by muzan. And maybe reader answers back a lot, but muzan doesn’t hurt them too much because he still loves them. (Thought this would be cute and thank youuu!)

✿✼:*ﾟ:.｡..｡.:*･ﾟﾟ･**･ﾟﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*ﾟ:*:✼✿　　

The only time you're not being constantly watched is when your father is in the middle of a meeting with the upper moons. He told you to stay put in your room but when have you ever listened to him.

Usually, Nakime would keep you away from any room you're not supposed to be in but today she was distracted. By what? I guess we'll never know.

Without the biwa woman to stop you, you wandered into your father's experiment room.

It didn't take long for something to break. In fact, one of the legs of the table just popped off and the entire table fell. Chemicals and broken glass surrounded you.

It was loud.

very loud.

Every demon in the castle heard it... Your father heard it.

"Y/n what did you do." Your father was behind you in a heartbeat.

"I barely did anything I swear." You wave you sporadically as he walks towards you.

"I'm sor- OW!"

Your father took you by the ear and dragged you out of the room, he dragged you all the way to your room without the help of Nakime.

You complained the whole way there but that didn't matter to him.

"You're in time out until I say so. If you break anything else it'll be worse than just your ears. I swear you're a disaster waiting to happen."

He locked you into your room until the next day.

When you opened your door outside was your favorite snack.

✿✼:*ﾟ:.｡..｡.:*･ﾟﾟ･**･ﾟﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*ﾟ:*:✼✿　　

[dulceackles]

Ambivalent Part one - The town

Pairing: Dean Winchester x fem!reader

Warnings: angst, sex, violence, enemies to lovers, alcohol, all that. Mention of dead body, a little bit of horror. English is not my first language, so sorry for typos. Also, it is a Y/N, but I've created a background story and a fictional place around it for creative and storytelling reasons. Will not be describing exterior characteristics, tho!

Summary: Dean used to be really important to Y/N but ever since he suddenly left her without telling her why, she's been avoiding even mentioning him. Now, after years, he's back in town, but not because of her. There's a case. The only things she's certain is that she doesn't like him being back.

Word count: 1k

The town of Dimdale was exactly what it sounded like; small, rather boring, and they saved electricity by switching streets lights off by midnight. Not too fancy, huh? Still, it was Y/N's hometown and even tho she sometimes had dreamed of leaving, she'd never actually wanted to pack her bags.

Oily mugs the coffee house, don't ask about the name, was the town's tourist attraction if so you could say. It had been in business since the 60s, owned by the same family, and served the world's best blueberry pie. Y/N had been working there 6 years now and, you guessed it, she loved the simple job she had.

"One black coffee, please, darling!" An old man with a gray beard ordered over the counter.

"Sure, coming up. It'd be 2.50 dollars, thank you," Y/N smiled. She was just pouring the coffee when she heard the bell on the front door ring, notifying her that a new customer had entered the café. She lifted her eyes from the coffee mug to greet the new customers, but her smile dropped the second her eyes locked with a familiar pair of green ones.

How dare he even walk in here? She thought. Dean Winchester, an asshole, liar, toxic jackass, a traitor even. To be honest, she hated him with all her heart and with all the rage she had left in her, but she didn't want to talk about it, or him, or think about it or anything... And behind him in walked Sam. About him Y/N had no ill thoughts about, but she still hated him too simply because he was related to the smallest man who ever lived, Dean. Someone could have described her as unfair, she just called herself a simple girl.

"Hey y...." Sam tried to greet her behind the counter but was quickly cut off by her.

"What would you like?" She gave them her best fake smile that also very clearly said fuck you to both of them. She handed the earlier customer his coffee, accidentally spilling some of the hot liquid into her hand. That made her hiss out of annoyance. That and the two men sitting in bar stools to be exact.

"I… Umm, I’ll take a sandwich, and he'll..." Sam stuttered, clearly taken back by her passive-aggressive character. He knew things between her and Dean had not ended well, but he hadn't thought they had ended so bad it was enough to make a grown woman act like a high school bully behind the counter.

"I'll take the sandwich too." Dean said, saving his brother from the trouble. "Soo... you still work here."

"Clearly." Y/N spat while solving the sandwiches into a paper bag. She had made the decision for them that they'd be eating on the go.

"Oh, actually, we're eating..." Sam tried to put in again, but again, he was interrupted.

"On the go. I'm sure y'all busy, I know he was last time." She gave them the same fake smile she had mastered and reached out to give them the paper bag. Dean grasped it in her hands and got up from his seat.

"It's okay, we are busy actually," He said and tapped Sam's shoulder. "Let's go."

Y/N watched as Sam got up and looked almost upset. For a second, Y/N nearly felt bad, like he had ever been nothing but sweet to her. But then she remembered that he was his brother, and that was enough reasons to hate him.

"And by the way, if you spat on it, just know I won't mind, darling." Dean smirked and then winked at her. Before turning his back, he watched, just a second, how her face turned red. He knew it wasn't a blush but a rage, and he thought a couple other customers might have clocked it too. He walked towards the door with his brother.

"Well, I'm surprised a kitchen knife hasn't flown into your back yet," Sam whispered and Dean laughed and shook his head as they get in the impala. Dean knew Y/N, and he knew that the only bullet she shoots were the bullets coming from her mouth. Well, to be fair, sometimes he had wished she would have just rather picked up a machine gun or something. Still, he thought she was adorable, even if angry. But Dean had promised himself before even stepping his foot over the boarder of this god forgotten town that he'd never drag her into his life again. Even tho they had quite a history, Dean had never told her about his real job because he didn't want to see him and real world ruin her too. No matter how cute, sweet, absolutely choleric, tempting, beautiful or enraged she was, he'd leave her be. 

She deserves better than to be dragged into this life, Dean thought. Besides, there was a case for them to battle.

"Soo.. 25-year-old woman, Sandra Rittenwell, last seen walking home from a night shift at a bar. Couple days later a body is found and well… See for yourself." Sam stretched out to show Dean the crime scene pictures he'd stolen.

"Well, that's a sight." Dean scrunched his nose in disgust. The pictures were cruel to say at least.

"Tell me about it. Surprisingly there were witnesses tho." Sam blurred out, "Victor Hills, called the police at 4am and claimed he saw a "faceless monster" take Sandra. Apparently he had been walking behind her. The police didn't take his claims seriously at first, but after the discovery of the body, they checked the nearby surveillance cameras and no "monster" had been caught in any of them. Police has no suspects as we speak, but they have had a sketch artist draw a portrait of the thing Victor saw."

"Hmm, interesting. Never seen this before;" Dean thought.

"Yup. Did some research and similar incident has happened before. In 1947 a woman disappeared, the body was never found, but locals said few had seen a similar creature in a couple of previous days, leading to the disappearance. One thing is sure, the monster has a type," Sam Said.

"Yeah, and what's that?" Dean knitted his eyebrows together.

"Women, walking home at night." Sam sigh.

"Of course," Dean shook his head for the second time that day.

// Hope you liked it, I love a feedback and hopefully I wasn't rusty. I haven't written other than school stuff in a long time. xx

Next part (x)