Imagine this..

You and Penny didn’t fight all the time, hell you guys didn’t even fight that often. But when you did, it was because of the diet he had taken up so long ago. You tried telling him what he was doing was wrong, saying how there were just kids. He always told you the same thing as well, “I have to eat kids! Their fear keeps me alive” You grew tired of this excuse. You understood that fear fed him, but you didn’t understand why he couldn’t just eat animals. Animals felt fear too. He would only let out a sigh of anger and stubbornly disagree with you. You’d eventually just give up and walk out of the house. It happened everytime you had this argument. You would storm out and go walk throughout town. Either you would come back yourself or he would have to come find you. It was always the ladder. Now was usually the time Penny would come to get you and bring you home. You were in such deep thought that you didn’t even notice the group of men walking towards you and calling for your attention. You didn’t notice until one of the men were right in front of you and gripping your face so you would look at him.

“You trying to ignore me sweet cheeks? Im trying to show you a good time” He slurred, clearly drunk. Actually it was pretty obvious that all of them were drunk. You felt chills go up your spine as you realized that it was 3 men to 1 woman. You were vulnerable and unarmed. Penny was no where in sight too. You pulled yourself from his grasp and stood up, pushing him away from you. You stepped back.

“Leave me alone. I’m not interested and I would never be. Especially to a prick like you” You stated. The other two snickered and  ‘ohh’ at the comment. The man rolled his eyes in frustration.

“That’s cute, but it wasn’t really an offer sweety” The reality of the situation set in and you tried to turn away from the men but one had snuck behind you. He towered over you. You realized that you were trapped between the three drunken men. They began mocking you and even pushing you around. Saying things like “Your scared now?” “This will be fun” “What can that mouth do huh?” “Look guys, she’s crying” Eventually one of the men pushed you hard enough to make you fall. You tried to catch yourself with your wrist but you fell on it wrong. You heard a pop and could only guess that you had broken it. At least it felt like you broke it. A wave of pain went throughout your body and you clutched your wrist to your chest as you began crying harder from the pain. As you looked up to the men once again you saw something from the corner of your eye. You saw someone turn the corner, your saviour. When you clearly saw the person you could tell who it was now. It was Penny in his human form. You felt happy that he had come in time to rescue you before it got bad but you also felt scared for whatever was about to happen to these men. Your attention was turned back to the men when one of them kicked you in the side. You fell over and held your side with your good hand.

“Ignoring me again bitch?!” He yelled at you. You barely looked up to see Penny gone from where he was before. Everything went silent. The only thing you heard now was crickets and the sound of distant traffic. Oh and the sounds of heavy breathing. You looked over your shoulder and saw Penny standing above one of the men with his hand through the mans chest. The sight was gruesome but you knew you were safe. You let your head fall onto the grass so you could catch your breathe. You closed your eyes and heard screaming and horrific noises coming from around you. You didn’t feel bad for this. Instead you felt tired and in pain, but safe. Then you felt a pair of gentle arms wrap around you and hoist you into their chest. You open your eyes and look up to see Penny in his human form. There was blood all over him but you still saw the kindness and worry in his eyes.

“Hey darling, I took care of them okay? Your safe now..” You smiled and placed your hand on his that was resting on your bad arm. “I know, I’m always safe with you. I’m just tired..so I’ll close my eyes for a second” Penny smiled down to you, a smile that didn’t match his eyes.

“Okay baby, I’ll be here for when you wake up” You sighed and closed your eyes. You knew it wasn’t a good idea to fall asleep. But you were in pain. You trusted Penny to take care of you. 

You woke up in a different place. You looked around and noticed you were in your bed. There was an ice packet laying on your wrist and your side, a blanket separating the skin and the ice pack itself. You felt sore and achy. You tried to move yourself to sit up but the pain was too much. You yelped out in pain and just laid back down. You heard shuffling outside and a pair of footsteps approaching the door. The door opened and walked in Penny. He was cleaned up now, but the look of worrisome was still there, but now with a hint of relief. He walked over to your bedside and held onto your uninjured hand.

“Hey darling, how are you feeling?” He asked while stroking your hair. “I feel okay as long as I don’t move. But other than that I’m just..sore” He nodded in understanding.

“Did I break something? Like a rib or my wrist?” You asked. He chuckled. “Fortunately you didn’t, you have some bruising on your ribs and just pulled your wrist out of socket”

“Oh..how do you know all of this? Your not a doctor” You asked in a playful 'I’m suspicious of you’ way. He looked away sheepishly. “Don’t worry about that” You laughed but had to quit because of your ribs.

“Okay I won’t ask” You joked. You and Penny just sat there, dreamily staring into each other’s eyes. You interlocked your hands together. “Thank you for rescuing me” You said.

“Always, until the end of the line” He said. It was silent for a while before Penny spoke up. “So..does this mean we’re done fighting?” He asked. You laughed again but couldn’t stop at the expression he was making.

“Y-yes, yeah we’re done fighting” You sighed out. He laughed as well and brought your hand to his lips. He kissed your knuckles and kept them there, taking in your scent. He would try harder to change his habits from now on. He couldn’t stand it if he lost you. It wouldn’t just be kids dying, it would be a slaughter of the entire town.

yall cannot trick me into reading and enjoying your oc x character fic by tagging it as x reader. get outta my face

Happy Monday! I hope you had an excellent start to your week, my darlings!

When is stuff coming out, and what am I working on?
Week 12, March 2026

Posting days: Wednesday and Friday, and possibly Sunday.
I survived the conference, but I was absolutely spent after and done with everything. So I spent a day doing absolutely nothing, and now I feel like a human again! Yay!

My asks are open, please send ideas for anyone of AKOTSK!

Upcoming fics:

Lyonel Baratheon:

• Bolton!reader with an arranged marriage, unpleasant father and a Trial for Combat where Lyonel stands as Reader’s champion
• The trial is over, and an unimpressed reader helps to patch Lyonel up
• Pt. 3 of Boasting and babies where the older brothers meet their little sister for the first time.
• A childhood friends to lovers story, reader is married to a lord who dies, and Lyonel blurts out to her father that he wishes to marry her. Inspired by this post.

Baelor “Breakspear” Targaryen:

• Reader gets a prediction from a fortune teller that she will never be queen. She takes it to mean she will die before him, but little does she know. Angst? Inspired by this post.
• Young Baelor is forced to take a life for the first time while protecting his fiancée.
• Baelor is loopy and mischievous after a head injury at the Trial of Seven. Steamy fluff!
• Part 2 of Birth of a Princess with Helena, the People’s Princess.
• A Prequel to the Birth of a Princess with Baelor pulling away after the traumatic birth of Matarys, even if reader wants another child.
• An attacker finds his way to your shared bedchambers with Baelor, but you bludgeon them with a candlestick.
• Baelor goes crazy when you take a knife meant for him

Maekar Targaryen x reader

• Grumpy x Sunshine trope, Maekar gifts reader flowers.

Raymun Fossoway:

• Baker’s daughter!reader, meet cute! Sorta inspired by this ask.

Aerion Targaryen:

• Stark!reader who takes no shit from anyone and owns a direwolf catches Aerion’s eye. Inspired by this post.

Characters I have no current ideas for: Ser Duncan the Tall, Valarr Targaryen, Ser Roland Crakehall

Ideas, asks, requests, wishes, criticisms, and comments are always welcome!

When the party’s over - Sirius Black X Reader

Summary: Sirius is stubborn and in love.

College! AU, other characters mentioned. Implied smut. Did not proofread. Good luck.

No one could deny Sirius Black his looks or his charming and rebellious personality. Others practically fell at his feet regularly. You were the exception. You saw through his facade, not like many others. You had somehow managed to drive him crazy.

You had no idea he’d doodle your names together in class, or fantasize about you when he should be paying attention in class. You also had no idea that his friends would mercilessly tease him over it being outwardly apparent.

It wasn’t until the Marauder’s party that you found yourself drinking a few drinks enough to entertain Sirius. Their tiny house, shared between the four of them, was packed, and music was blasting. You had wandered to the small patio for some air after seemingly dancing the night away.

And there he was. Sirius. Smoking a cigarette, sat in the dark on the balcony. He immediately stood up, offering you his chair, which you politely declined, instead leaning over the railing to feel some air. He stood beside you, now.

He offered you his cigarette, his last one, which you took between your lips for a quick drag. He felt electricity jolt through his body at the thought of his lips touching something that had just touched his own…

“Thanks for inviting me.” you uttered.

“Of course,” he chuckled. He was slightly drunker than you were in that moment. “It’s great to see you, as always,” he said. He scolded himself. Did he sound stupid?

“Yeah, I’m having a lot of fun,” you smiled softly. “That’s good, I mean I’m glad you’re here.” he confessed. “I didn’t think you’d come.” he frowned.

“Why wouldn’t I?” you asked.

“I just- I mean I really like you- hanging out with you, and I was worried you wouldn’t be here tonight,” he stammered. It wasn’t just the shots he had been doing, or the beer pong with his mates. You were plenty intoxicating enough on your own.

“I like hanging out with you, too,” you said. His whole world had stopped in that moment.

“Do you want to come up to my room?” he asked pointedly.

“Umm,” you uttered. “No- No, not like that.” he assured. “It’s quieter, and we can actually talk. We don’t have to do anything, you can say no.”

You giggled. “That sounds nice, sure,” you said. He lit up like a child on Christmas, enamored with hundreds of gifts.

You followed Sirius past the party, your hand grabbing his arm to guide you. You couldn’t feel it, luckily, but his heart began racing at your touch. His friends wooed at him when they saw him bringing you upstairs, you’d have been too embarrassed to proceed without the alcohol.

When you reached Sirius’s room, it was as if you had entered his mind. It was slightly messy, a sweater and a pair of trousers left on the floor, a jacket slung over his desk chair. Some minor clutter. You wandered over to his shelf to see his photographs, many with his friends, some with his little brother.

His bed was plush with pillows; you sat on the soft surface and sighed.

“So this is where you spend most of your time.” you said.

“Well, yeah.” he said, “it’s not much, but it’s where I like to chill,” he said, trying to sound cool.

Sirius Black had been a mystery until that moment, and you knew he could have any girl he wanted in there with him at any moment. You felt like you got a glimpse into his life. “You’re Reggie’s brother?” You asked him, pointing to the photograph of the two.

“Yeah, he’s my little brother.” He said. “Are you two friends?” he asked, as if there was a doubt in the world that Sirius was the more attractive brother, a slight jealousy.

“I used to tutor him.” you had said. “he’s very sweet.”

“He’s alright,” Sirius said. He wasn’t sure why that made you giggle.

“I think I have my eyes on someone else, anyway,” you said. This upset Sirius, but he wouldn’t dare show it. “Oh, yeah, that’s cool.” He said, crossing his arms.

“You can sit with me, don’t be shy. It’s your bed after all.” You pat his mattress. He sat at the end of the bed beside you. “Sorry,” he uttered foolishly.

“So, erm,” he began, glancing over at you and losing his words. “Sorry,” he uttered again. “You look really pretty tonight.” he said finally.

“Thank you,” you chimed. It was amusing that the notorious flirt was suddenly so tongue-tied. “So tell me more about your family.” You said, swinging your legs over his and leaning back on his pillow, it smelled musky, a mixture of his cologne, cigarettes, and whiskey.

“Well, I’m the oldest,” he began. “Reggie’s my younger brother. It’s just the two of us, and our parents,” he continued. It seemed like a touchy subject- you didn’t want to pry, but Sirius also noticed it felt good to have someone ask about something so sensitive and be genuinely listening. No other girl cared about his family.

You gave an understanding nod, which opened the floodgates. He was now vulnerable. “I uh, my parents just expect a lot, you know?” he began. “It’s difficult. They want another genius prodigy, and that’s just not me. So being here is like my escape.”

“I think you’re pretty smart,” you said. He flushed. You had seen him somehow party and be incredibly social while holding perfect grades, despite skipping class sometimes.

“Thanks,” he said in a nervous exhale. “What about your family?” he asked. You went on to describe your family, what it was like growing up, and a brief overview. He felt closer to you than he already was. it felt like hours had passed by.

“I think I’d like kids one day, it would be fun, you know, to have mini versions of us running around.” he immediately backtracked and wanted to kick himself for saying that out loud.

“That sounds really nice, actually. But obviously, after school, and jobs, first.” You chuckled slightly.

“Yeah, I’d totally want to have a job to support us,” he said.

“So, in this hypothetical scenario- where we have kids, we can tell them we were college love birds,” you chuckled, followed by a yawn. You were both tired from the party, and it was getting late anyway. The music had become quieter, and the chatter downstairs less intense.

“That would be ideal, yeah,” he said in between slow blinks; he was also dozing. After another half hour, you’d both fallen fast asleep.

When you woke, you had somehow become Sirius’s little spoon, his limbs wrapped around you and his warmth radiating over you. The sunlight peeped through the curtains, and within a few minutes, Sirius was also awake.

“Sorry- I didn’t mean to stay the night,” you said, slightly embarrassed. You leaned up, and he was now right beside you. “It’s fine. I don’t mind,” he said, sounding even more love-drunk than last night.

He leaned forward, faces inches apart.

“Can I kiss you?” he asks. You nodded, and he eagerly pressed your lips together, a passionate and melting kiss. Your bodies moved in sync, hungry for touch and embrace, ending up with you straddling his lap with his arms rested on your back.

He looked up at you like a lost puppy. He uttered your name softly. “I really like you,” he finally admitted. “I like you too,” you smiled gently.

“Would you want to be my girlfriend by chance?” He said, laying it all on the table now. “Yeah, I’d like that,” you smirked. His fist pounded the air in triumph, and in a quick motion, he had placed your back against his bed and was on top of you.

He hesitated before kissing you, taking in every inch of your features. You had to grab him by the collar to satiate your hungry lips.

Insert smut here.

. . .

You had finally emerged from Sirius’s room wearing his boxers and one of his T-shirts, and the two of you wandered down to the kitchen to find James and Lily stumbling over each other, making breakfast.

Sirius poured you a cup of coffee, and you stood beside him at the dinner table. Remus emerged from the couch, sluggish and rubbing his eyes. “When did this happen?” he asked with a yawn and rubbing his temples. “Last night,” Sirius said proudly.

“Mates, this is my girlfriend,” he said with a shit-eating grin plastered across his face. “Nice,” Remus said, grabbing some toast as it came out of the toaster. Peter had wandered into the kitchen, his eyes were fixated on your bare thighs beneath Sirius’ T-shirt. He caught on and pulled you into his lap.

“Watch it, Pettigrew,” he snarled, you just laughed. “Perv,” he muttered under his breath. “No one looks at my girl without my permission,” he whispered in your ear.

Contemplating…

Scene from “Stare at the Abyss” chapter 16.

im so fucking tired of virgin reader like why are the characters allowed to who but reader is always a shy uwu girl like??? WHY 😭😭😭

Hi again (2 years later lol)

Sooooo yeah. I’m very sorry for how long it’s been, and like the hiatus was totally my bad. I kept telling myself I would get back into writing, but I kept procrastinating and making excuses. On top of that, I was also hella depressed for a bit and didn’t know how to balance my school and personal life. I’m happy to say that I am officially kinda back (as told by my new post), and I hope to get another new story to you guys by like, next month. Thank you to those that still interacted with my work while I was gone. Love you guys!

It’s okay, I’ll hold you - a Luis Serra Navarro x reader story

[chapter 7 - the world is deprived of Luis Serra, so now im here to feed your delusions. No, the hand holding isn’t romantic yet, like i promised. Yes, a bit suggestive to what you both are feeling but i won’t go back on my promise. I said i’d write slowburn and slowburn is what you’ll get because Luis needs to suffer first (for the character arc, duh). Anyway the rewrite of this took a turn, so i went in the direction i wanted. I hope you guys like the angst and appreciate the fluff i will give you later on in the chapters.]

────୨ৎ────

You look out the window. The nicotine settled in your body. The gentle wind hits the car and in turn makes you relax into the leather seat you’ve been sitting in for the past few hours. Luis keeps his eyes on the road for the most part, though you catch him glancing over at you every now and then. Probably to check if you’re still awake. Trees move past your vision as the radio is turned up once more. The song is an attempt to break the silence, or unwanted thoughts that swirl in the head of your usually charming driver.

While you relax, the man that has taken the role of your chaperone is tense. He can feel his head start to hurt, his palms sweaty on the steering wheel. Damn, he must be nervous at the prospect of trying to outrun Umbrella. A shaky sigh escapes him. He needs to calm down, before he has to actually pull over again, this time because he’s the one who is silently fighting with his own head.

But he eventually calms himself down.

He can feel the warmth of the car. And the thought of going back to his hometown…

The warmth of the car transforms in his head into the vision of flame. Of a beloved house falling apart before his eyes. It transforms into the eyes of the surrounding villagers, people who stared on as the house burns into ash, along with it any hope of staying there.

Luis tries to shake off the anxiety. Shake off the bubbling sorrow of a house long past.

He’s running from the perfect life he built for years. He’s running from the laboratory of a corporation he could’ve only dreamed working for, to run right back to the very place that he barely escaped from. How is he supposed to stay calm? He’s angry. He wants to turn back time and force his younger self to choose some other place of work.

The realization that he once more unintentionally put someone and himself at risk makes him clench his teeth. Luis never wanted to hurt anyone. The prospect of helping someone who thought they were beyond help made him calm. Made the pain of loss easier on his mind. It was like a silent redemption for the wrongs he made. Umbrella was supposed to be that. A way to redeem him. To see the healthy patient and see what could’ve been so long ago. A happy patient, going back to their family. To a smart, eager and loving grandboy. The faces of potential people he thought he would help blurred into one familiar one – the older man, smiling at him. Putting up with his endless questions of the nature surrounding them. Carrying Luis to bed when he was crying and sick. Gently caressing his hair when he had a fever, promising the soup and medicine would help. The one person he mourned more then any “perfect life” he could’ve built for himself. His grandfather.

The sign to turn for the airport made Luis snap out of his head. Another shaky sigh. He hadn’t even noticed how much time had passed. Oh, well. Maybe it was for the best that they had already reached the airport. Even the passing thought of Spain was now tearing at his heart. They needed to escape. They needed to get to safety.

______________________________________________________

The airport had been pretty packed with people. Some waited for flights, others boarded off of planes from different parts of the world.

You held your bags, going to the check in. You weren’t exactly any sort of premium passengers in the company which your plane was from, so the line was a bit long. Meanwhile first class was already halfway across the room, luggage in hand as they held their heads high.

A sigh escaped you both. Who knew running from a secretly evil corporation would be so boring at times? You thought by now that Umbrella would probably send one of the guys that previously came to the office to take care of you both swiftly. But you waited until it was your turn. You gave the employee your passports, weighing your luggage. It was just a little above what it could be before you had to pay a fee, so you had to open it up and grab some things to fit into your backpack, while the entire line of people sighed behind you, impatient. Talk about awkward.

As soon as your big travel bag was on its way to the plane, it was time for a check in. Of course, it wouldn’t be easy for you two. Luis was selected for a random check. The airport guard searched him, before something beeped. Great. Just what you needed. Luis was in front of you in line, so you watched as the guard searched him top to bottom to find out if he was carrying anything illegal. He nodded over one of the other guards, who took his jacket. “Oye! Careful with that!” Luis hissed as they basically were ready to search every inch of him.

Luis was pulled to the side under the guise of “Interrogation and safety measures being implemented”. Your heart was racing. You passed the security check without trouble, but asked one of the guards where you could find your travel partner. The man pointed to a door. “He’ll be out soon, ma’am. You can wait for him or board the plane, depending the time of departure. Your choice.” He shrugged, before going back to doing his job.

The plastic red seat wasn’t comfortable for the 45 minutes that Luis was inside. You could hear yelling and you hoped to God Luis wasn’t being stupid and provoking anyone. Then, silence.

The door swung open, Luis stepping outside. He was still buckling his belt, getting it through the metal buckle and running a hand through his hair to pull it together, both the hair and himself. A scoff left his already clenched teeth and parted lips, before looking over at you. “..hey, you. Hope I didn’t keep you waiting for too long?” he manages a smile. “Apparently the staff can’t resist a good looking man like myself. They were a little too eager to search me. Didn’t even take me out to a steak dinner first, either.” That pulls a small smile onto your own face. “Oh, stop it Luis. We’ll miss our flight if you keep talking” you grab his hand, relieved they let him go without any sort of actual trouble.

“seems like they aren’t the only ones desperate for a little skin to skin contact, huh hermosa?” Luis teases, but squeezes your hand with his despite the lingering tension.

Everything seems to get better for a moment. Not only has your heart calmed down, but you find yourself even quite relaxed once you’re walking towards the plane to board it. The flight attendant smiled, asking for your tickets. You both keep your heads low, just in case.

All is good for a moment. In the plane, in the early hours of the morning, you find a moment to breathe properly.

“… [name], this will last around 8 hours. Here, I got you this. Totally worth the strip search.” Luis chuckles, pulling out a packet of alcohol. It was one of your favorite drinks, one which you could really use right now. You chugged the packet without much thinking, really needing a proper mind cleansing after the prospect of Luis being detained and you being stuck in the USA any longer.

_____________________________________________________

The moment you look away, though… Something flickers through the eyes of the golden boy. The fact that there was no turning back now.. that he lost his position at Umbrella, that he was going back to Spain.

The fire flickers in the back of his mind, as you fall asleep 5 hours into the flight.

Luis gets up, going to the bathroom. His eyes flicker up to settle on his face, as if once more making sure that the reflection staring back is who he is now. He splashes some water on his face to calm down. He knows he needs to stay strong. There is no way he can know for sure you won’t completely freak out and leave him behind, once you realize… That he is the reason you’re now running.

You had no idea what would await you upon landing in Spain. Or that soon, the now distant city known as Racoon city was about to fall under the force of the virus you helped create.

_________________________________________

[Hope you enjoyed this one!! I actually rewrote it instead of just editing and i like how it turned out! Blame the playlists i have on the fact it’s Luis Serra angst. Fuck it, im making him go through it. Also OMG do i love how Capcom made Leon and Grace in RE9. Someone HOLD ME BACK because that grumpy old man would’ve paired SO good with cocky Luis Serra. B-O-A-F! BOTH. I can take them both. Anyway thanks for coming to my ted talk]

P.S. Once summer is here, you guys better be ready for the amount of writing this bitch is gonna do. Better yet, don’t let me anywhere near my phone or laptop if im drunk at 2am.

A Blurb for Yall

Morally grey reader x corensupes

I’ve had this in my drafts for months and this is my apology for not publishing a pt 2 on the other one🫠

Reader has like multiverse powers? I don’t really know how to describe it

Have fun!!

Messing with the man of steel was fun.

People liked to think you did it for money, jewelry, pure evil intentions, etc.

Nah.

You did it to stick it to the man.

You’d been going steady as his archnemesis for about 5 months now- though these days you could never put a label on anything- so who knows where Superman stood on your situationship.

Though you know you deserve that title.

As there’s only one thing you’re better at than slinking through high end security with sticky fingers-

And that’s rage baiting Metropolis’ favorite Boy Scout.

————————————————————————

“Hey America, looking good today,”

You did have other noble intentions when planning to rob the bank you’re now standing in, but you were definitely looking forward to this part the most.

Superman whirls in your direction. Unusual for him because he’s not used to having someone be faster.

You wiggle your fingers at him from the pillar you’re leaning against, and he sighs tiredly.

Contrary to popular belief, the man does know a losing battle when he sees one.

“Tempest. Don’t know why I expected someone else.” He folds his arms.

You gasp dramatically, “Oh Blue- you wound me! Here I thought we were exclusive.”

His head is already tilted down as if he’s looking at his obnoxious boots, but you hear a stifled laugh.

You grin like a maniac.

You both know that you’re his favorite villain.

Before anyone on planet earth can blink you’re in front of him, prodding at the S on his chest.

“Oh shiny! Someone must’ve gotten a replacement recently,” you step away a tad to pretend to inspect it from afar, “as I recall it was looking a little bit worse for wear from our last chat.”

“Yes-

He stiffens then. Reality hitting him like a super brick to the face.

His cornflower blue eyes meet yours- and he forgets who has the laser abilities in his next breath.

Unbeknownst to you- Clark is undeniably obsessed.

He tells himself it’s because he’s never been able to catch you. (Let alone lay a finger on you) But then he grovels to his ma over the phone about how the city’s turned him into a “rake who loves the chase.”

You just love the power of being untouchable to Superman.

He tries anyways.

An ungloved hand (scandalous) reaches for you and-

You’re suddenly next to him like you were never in front of him at all.

“You’d think you’d have caught on by now,” you pause. Let his gaze snap towards you, “those looks must be to make up for a lack of something else aye?”

An eye twitch. Bingo.

He lunges, a flash of blue and red.

You slow down enough so you can take the time to plant a foot to his chest.

The prismic echo of impact that follows when you play with the quantum, clings to him like his cape.

Then you step back into reality to watch him smash into the bank vault wall.

You love having him do the dirty work for you.

You’re already inside as he flings himself upwards from the rubble.

“I will have you know Captain Underpants that me robbing this bank won’t effect the innocents like you’re probably thinking it will.”

You’ve had to glitch twice as he tries to grab you while you’re talking him through your plans.

“However I’m always more interested in the corporate corruption at the top than the-“

A laser fries off the end of your hair and effectively cuts you off mid thought.

Because that…..that was new.

The smell of burnt hair emanates around you.

An icey pause.

And then you’re on him.

He lays on the ground wide- eyed as your gogo boot holds his throat down.

“You dick!” You growl.

His hand grabs your boot, but you rewind.

Then, when his hand reaches for your boot, you kick him across the floor into the other wall. Effectively burying him into the next vault room.

Not the one you’re after.

In a fury you grab your goods. The mood completely ruined by his recklessness. Sure you can grow the hair back in seconds but that isn’t the point.

He could’ve hit your eye if you hadn’t moved slightly to the left.

Superman was apparently growing tired of your game.

And there was nothing more gross to you than feeling like a toy who’d outlived its entertainment purposes.

With the money in a duffel- you turn towards the hole in the wall.

And then you’re gone.

Yall I think I like this one- needs some….tension though heehe

Sometimes I look through my fics and wonder why I put my characters through so much stress, then I look at my own clown shoes of a life and realise. Ah yes. Protecting.

Duty, Love, Honour…

Radha Basu x desi!reader fanfic

Reader could be plump

Part 2

Part 01 here

Distressed that her mother wanted to send you away, Radha tries to convince you stay with her along with the arrival of….your mother?

Divider credits: @droideplane

CW: angst, mentions of child marriage, cheating, unspoken feelings, mentions of separation

Your rest was broken when you were drenched in ice cold water by none other than your guru, Doran Basu. At first you thought you were hallucinating until you felt his strong arm when you effortlessly picked you up.

“Guru-ji!” You exclaimed as you began to try and wrestle him but, the Executioner kept his grip on you and handled you like a angry kitten.

He ruffled your hair before dropping you on your bed. “Get your khanda, we’re training now!” He ordered you with his signature smirk.

You immediately did as he asked. You got dressed in your training clothes and headed to the courtyard where Doran scrubbed his sword then unsheathed it.

“Ladies first.” Your guru began mischievously. You lunged forward with your sword but, he stepped out of the way.

“AGAIN!” He shouted. You grit your teeth and turn to him, lunging at him again however, he moved out of the way once again.

Most of the time you kept missing him until you finally fell onto your knees. Your mind was still elsewhere…still outside that door watching Radha and Raj.

You were hurt, mentally and emotionally.

“I cannot lift my sword to fight.” You sob to Doran. “Papa, I cannot….not when the one I swore to protect has betrayed me…”

“I DID NOT TRAIN YOU TO GIVE UP THE MOMENT YOUR LOVE TURNED SOUR!” Doran thundered, “Pick up your khanda and fight me.”

And so you did, through your blurry tears you began fight him. Your sword slammed against his with each strike.

Your khanda was close to breaking,

“Sorry papa.” You murmured as you switched all your weight to your left side, pushing Doran backwards and knocking the khanda out of his hand.

Now only he smiled.

“There’s my little lioness…” He murmured as he walked to you, patting your head as your tears from earlier once again began pouring down your cheeks.

You look up at him guiltily before hugging him and sobbing softly in his chest. He patiently hushed you as you wept.

“It’s okay no…I’m here, I won’t let injustice happen to you again.” Doran whispered to you before stepping back and picking up his khanda.

You silently do the same.

“Come on.” He says once again as he began play fighting you to make you feel better.

—-

Elsewhere, Radha was in utter agony.

Fear gripped her as she watched Vidya signing official documents to free you from Basu loyalty and grant you an estate to handle.

“Mother don’t do this please.” She asked with a trembling voice but was quickly silenced when Vidya held up her hand.

“Keep your mouth shut.” Vidya warned her as she stamped the documents and sent it out with her assistant. “In a week’s time, Y/n will sign these papers and be free from the loyalties that bound her to you. She’ll be managing the mountain residence after that.”

Radha looked at Vidya confused.

“But the mountain residence had burnt down mother…Why would you give a ruin to Y/n for managing?” Radha couldn’t help but ask. The older women let out a strangled laugh.

“I have enough money in my coffers…In these past 5 years, I had people renovating the place…If I hand the place to Y/n for safe keeping, It will be better.”

Radha paled at her mother’s words. If Y/n was to be in charge of the mountain residence, she’ll be gone forever.

Before she could retort, a maid came in.

“Maharani-sa…. Doran-saahib and Deviya’s entourage have returned from Hertfordshire. Doran-saahib has just finished his training with Y/n in the courtyard.” The maid reported and bowed.

Vidya smiled. “Perfect…He came at the right time.” She thought to herself as she already began planning something in her mind.

Radha left her mother and headed towards your room, determined to dissuade you from her mother’s plans.

She caught sight of you heading to your room and hastened her speed towards you.

When she reached you, you were seated on your bed however, your physical condition made her go pale.

You looked so distant, with a look akin to lifelessness.

Your hair has lost its shine. Dark circles formed under your eyes and your reckless spree last night had resulted in scars upon your skin that you didn’t seem to care for.

“What do you want?” You ask her from the bed as you scrubbed your khanda.

She snapped out of her thoughts and came to you. “Mother is speaking about dismissing you from my service…Will you accept it?”

You stopped scrubbing your khanda and looked up at her.

“I haven’t been serving you for 5 years 7 months and 2 weeks…it won’t make a difference.” you replied coldly to her.

“But will you accept it?” She asked, now with a hint of desperation and worry in her voice.

Everything around in that moment drew a breath of anticipation for your response.

Yet as your lips parted for you to reply, a loud voice rang out in the Basu Residence…

“DORAN BASU!”

“VIDYA BHABHI!”

“DORAN!”

“Antara ma?” you murmured as you slowly stood up. Radha clenched her jaw.

“You still haven’t answered me Y/n…Will yo-

"Radha wait with that.” you cut her off as you stood up and went out of your room.

—-

Elsewhere, Doran smiled sheepishly at his wife as she glared at him. “First you left me alone in Kilphagrami and now Y/n never come home. WHERE IS MY CHILD!?” Antara thundered.

“Antara calm down…she’s safe here.”

“SAFE!? THEN EXPLAIN WHY MY CHILD WAS FOUND UNCONSCIOUS IN THE WOODS LAST NIGHT!”

Doran and Vidya’s faces paled. Just how fast did the news reach her?

“Where did you hear that?” Vidya snapped at Antara, who laughed in her face.

“Bhabhi, your family isn’t very pious, your servants air your dirty laundry quicker than Doran’s stink wafting about on a hot day!”

Doran looked at Antara, mouth agape and offended.

“I don’t smell.” He argues weakly but the 2 women dismissed him, tending to the problem at hand.

“Yes Y/n was found unconscious by me in the forest. She was training till late.” Vidya began calmly. “And you need to remember that I am your elder here Antara, I won’t tolerate your disrespect.”

“Oh please….this respect speech can be saved for your brother.” Antara shot back in anger. “I know my child trains till late but passing out? That immediately tells me that something happened here in this cursed house that gravely hurt her.”

Vidya’s eyes darkened in anger. Even Doran was shocked by his wife’s accusing words but, it all melted away when you came into the hall.

“Antara-ma…” You called with a soft smile, trying your best to appear well.

The mere sound of your voice calmed the raging woman’s emotions. When she saw you acting all strong despite being pale, she saw through your act. Forgetting her rage, she embraced you.

“Meri gudiya….Meri pyaari bacchi…are you okay hmn?” She asked you as she checked you for wounds.

“I’m okay ma…I just hit my hea-

"No you didn’t and don’t lie to me. 5 years I took care of you even when you stank like a man, I know when you’re lying and telling the truth.”

You went silent.

Vidya nudged Doran to speak to his wife, to try and remind her of her place in the Basu family.

But how he spoke to her now, shocked everyone in the hall.

“Arre o’ Phoolwathie…” He called her affectionately. Both you and Antara looked at him as if he lost it.

“Kya hai re!?” She thundered but he smiled and walked to her, plucking a flower from her gajra as he neared her.

“Go freshen up…The journey from Kilphagrami must have tired my sweet Phoolwathie not to mention how angry you were now…” He paused and pulled her into his chest, planting a kiss atop her head.

“Go or I’ll make you smell like me…sweaty, grimey and….” He whispered huskily prompting Antara to tug harshly on his locks in return.

“Fine…but I’m taking my daughter with me.” She answered him before taking you by the hand and heading to a room.

The rest of the Basu family regrouped in Vidya’s study, nervous and troubled.

“Aunt arriving to Calcutta was certainly not on my list this year.” Saraswati murmured nervously as she watched her mother massaging her temples.

Radha was angry and silent in the corner, occasionally rubbing her pregnant belly.

“How dare she speak to mother like that!?… She’s just a daughter-in-law in this family.” She gritted out.

But then there was Doran. He was busy sniffing away at the flower he stole from Antara’s gajra.

“Can you stop that you haram kor?!” Vidya cussed at Doran. “Can you not see what a problem we’re in?…Since when does Antara regard Y/n as a daughter!?” The matriarch thundered.

“I see no problem…I just have an excuse to go home early now with my family.” Doran answered with mock. Vidya hurled her sandal at him in anger.

“Your wife complicates things! She undermines my authority and is more cunning than the Britishers.”

“I know I know…But it was about time she came looking for me… atleast now, I can tell you all how my student became my daughter.” Doran replied with a smile.

Radha scoffed.

“I refuse to acknowledge Y/n as my cousin… she’s more than that.” She murmured and looked away.

Everyone understood what she meant. Saraswati silently held her hand in support.

But Doran frowned.

“Then listen closely because this is the last time I am letting her near you my darling niece.” He almost spat in the end.

He cleared his throat and began.

“5 years ago, a young woman asked me to train her to be worthy to protect my niece but… Little did I know that day, a devi came in the form of my now daughter and fixed my life…

(5 years ago)

You stood before Antara, head bowed in respect for her. Her cold gaze settled on a letter you held out to her from Doran.

He wasn’t coming home again and he was leaving you to stay with her.

"So he takes a student and expects me to house her?” She murmured in anger before looking back at you.

“Do you have a name?” She snapped.

You trembled slightly from the sharpness in her tone. Even Vidya-ma never spoke to you so harshly before.

“Y/n…Y/n Singh…” You answered meekly.

Antara sighed and walked to you, walked around you then came back to the front.

“You look around 16…Tell me, why are you wanting to be my husband’s student?” She asked confusedly. “You should be bathing in the riches the Basu family can offer, being feminine…not following a womanizer.”

You listened to her words and frown.

“I’m… I’m here to learn from him to fight so I can protect someone I love…” You murmured, then explained to Antara your endearment towards Radha.

The lady was not surprised. Anyone would catch feelings after being so close to someone.

But.

There was something about you that seemed so… similar to her.

She couldn’t put her finger on it. Doran explained everything to her the day after that, when he finally came home from his philanderings.

“Dhidhi saved her from being a child-bride…She couldn’t save us but, this one she did.” He said to her as she oiled his hair.

Antara’s fingers stilled in Doran’s locks from that words.

“H-How young was she?” She asked, her hands trembling from unspoken trauma.

“10…younger than when we were sworn..”

Antara scoffed and dropped the oil bowl as she lost her balance for a second. Doran immediately caught his wife and sat her down.

“10 years?…Barely old enough to ever wear a maangtikka and her parents were so willing to give her away?” Antara murmured and glanced at you outside the window.

You were meditating in the cold weather, wearing a thin orange saree and still as a pillar, as if holding up the very nature around you.

“How was she raised?” She asked next.

Doran sighed and stood up.

“Ask her yourself.”

“I’M ASKING YOU, YOU GOOD FOR NOTHING!”

Doran stopped in his tracks. Perhaps he should just answer Antara’s questions instead of provoking her further.

“She was raised to be Radha’s playmate but…I doubt my sister gave her a mother’s love. All this girl got was scraps of care that she termed as love.”

Antara recollected herself. She stood up and turned to Doran.

“Then she is a student to you but daughter to me….she isn’t an adult yet. I will be her mother in the time she’s here in Kilphagrami.”

At the time, Doran didn’t mind it.

You were just a student to him but you slowly became the child he always wanted.

Within 2 years, you trained with him and walked like him during day but at night, you were your Antara-ma’s princess.

“Go and bathe! You stink like your guru!” She’d scold you as she eyed Doran angrily but the man would smile at her then roll his eyes.

You would smile and run off to bathe then return wearing not the plain beige saree or the kurta pajama set but, a pretty pink and gold lehenga with matching jewelry.

One of the many things you learnt very early in your new life that your mother and guru’s marriage wasn’t one of the best arrangements.

They kept the circumstances they married under a secret from you, to not trigger your traumatic past.

“That woman does not look like Antara-ma.” You said to Doran one evening as you both walked home after training, chewing sugarcane.

He simply winked at one of the pretty maidens, you didn’t like it at all. He could see it too and sighed.

“Look beti, your ma and I don’t have a good relationship, don’t try mending it.” He dismissed you but you stop him.

“When last did you look at Ma properly papa?”

Doran felt his heart grow heavy.

When last did he look at his wife? Forget look, when last did he compliment her or give her a gift?

He ran a sticky hand through his hair.

“What does your mother like?” He asked as he shelled out some money.

You grinned and took him to many different stalls, buying gifts for Antara then headed home.

You both were on your best behaviour that night. Both of you bathed and helped Antara make dinner.

After eating, you watched from the staircase as Doran swallowed his nervousness and approached his dragon-wife.

Luckily for him, Antara was in a pleasant mood and threading a phool-maala.

“What is wrong?” She asked him as he sat opposite her, hiding the gifts he got for her behind him. “You and gudiya are hiding something from me…talk.”

Doran sighed and placed the gifts for her on the table.

A gajra, kanganas and gold payals.

He expected her to laugh and fling them out of the house.

He expected her to mock him.

But he was surprised when she set down her work and picked up the gifts with…a smile?

“For me?” She asked with a smile as little specs of tears formed in her eyes. The sight of her tears made Doran’s chest tighten as he realised something.

This was the first actual time in years he gifted his wife something.

And the first time he saw tears in her beautiful eyes.

What was he thinking, chasing the sarees of the other women? His gharwali was right here, always waiting for him to take the first step.

He sighs as he took the gifts to her, sliding the kanganas onto her hands then pinning the gajras in her hair. “They’re for you…all for you my phoolwathie.” He says gently to her before he sat at her feet.

As he placed the payals on her feet, he saw her silently sobbing and sniffling in her pallu. He reached up and held her face.

“I’m sorry…for everything.” He whispered to her. “From tonight onwards, you and gudiya are the only people important to me…I will never stray again.”

“Promise?” She asked him.

Doran smiled like he did when they were kids and kissed her. “Promise.” He whispered in between his breaths for air.

You smile and went to your room to sleep, leaving them to rekindle their marriage. That was how your third year went in training.

Your loving mother and no, not guru, your father cared for you in that tiny house that seemed no less than a palace.

The parental love you received in scraps growing up, you receive it whole-heartedly here. You were happy there, far away from the Dozen and Radha.

And Doran would let himself be damned if he let you cry over his niece now…

(Back to the present)

Doran concluded his tale and pocketed his flower, keeping his stern gaze on his sister and her daughters.

“I understand you care for Y/n…I do too but, I will not have her breaking her heart over Radhika any longer.” Doran spoke firmly.

“Neither will I.” Vidya replied sternly and stood up.

Radha looked at her mother and uncle with a frown. “What are you both going to do?” She asked with a hint of fear.

They don’t speak to her. Vidya motions Saraswati to take Radha and leave as she spoke privately with Doran, hatching a secret plan.

A few days later, you were well again, You went to get your training clothes to go off in the woods again to train.

A look of surprise etched onto your gentle features at the sight of beautiful feminine clothes in the place where your training outfit supposed to be.

“Perhaps Vidya-ma hasn’t had it cleaned yet…”

You silently wore a light pink and gold saree and went to walk in the garden.

Your barely got a foot out of the doors when Radha pulled you back inside and to a hidden alcove.

“Hey! Watch my pleats!” You scold her but she silenced you immediately by placing a hand on your mouth.

“Shut up!” She snapped at you before tearing up. “I don’t want to lose you…I need you to hear me out today before Ma sends you those wretched papers!”

“Papers?…what papers?”

Radha wiped her tears away and spoke.

“I have been a maha bhondu…I have hurt you in ways I cannot apologize for and I don’t expect you to forgive but please….please don’t leave.” She sobbed.

“Mother plans on sending you away to the Himalayas…away from me…I don’t want my shadow to leave me. I’ll be incomplete!…Don’t leave me alone.” She cried.

Your eyes widened at her revelation. If you were sent away, that would mean freedom…. something you only knew in Kilphagrami.

But if you left for that sweet freedom, it would mean that this love, this poison that you’re addicted to will be left behind to age away.

And so here you were, confused whether to stay and remain loyal to the woman you loved even though she betrayed you or you could just….leave.

This feels shorter than part 1…😐

But that aside, let me know if I should carry on with this series or not in the comments.

Vote, for whether Y/n should leave or stay.

Love y'all!

-MLW004✨

poly!wolfstar masterlist

drabbles

Sauce Pots and Sore Spots

Sauce Pots and Sore Spots

poly!wolfstar x reader who is sensitive and at her wit’s end

[1.9k words]

Garlic sizzles in the pan you stir absentmindedly, and the boiling pot next to it is almost done softening the farfalle. The thought of your boyfriends’ fond, surprised smiles almost has you warm and pliable much the same.

When you came home earlier, you decided it would be a good idea to surprise your boyfriends with a nice dinner. It also wouldn’t hurt to feel like you’re actually useful at something today.

It was one of those days where it seemed like there was nothing you could do right, and if you were honest with yourself, it was shaping up to be a pretty rotten week. For one, it felt like your hair created a whole new rule book not to mention your skin! The temperature this week was all wrong, feeling like there was a near-constant veil of sweat on you at all times no matter how clean you actually were. Your closet is rubbish. You’re behind on chores, which just puts a pit in your stomach thinking about your lovely live-in partners, no matter how much they reassure you you’re not a burden. Most nights as of late have been spent in solitude behind the glow of a screen, catching up on work in the kitchen until its 2:00 am when all you want is a good cuddle.

You’re just so tired. And fuck—you need to buy groceries.

There’s a buzzing on the counter next to you. Glancing at your phone, you see Remus’s caller ID. You turn the heat down on the stove before you pick up.

“Yes?” you question immediately. The sharp greeting makes you cringe, especially when Remus replies so nicely.

“Hey there, sweetness,” his warm, usually soothing tone says on the other line. “How are you doing?”

You resist the urge to scoff, rolling your shoulders trying to find a comfortable position. “I’m fine Rem. What is it?” It seems to be getting much warmer where you stand hips parallel to the stove.

There’s a beat of silence like the sting was setting in, but still, Remus can sense that this isn’t the time for prying. “I was calling to let you know that I’m running a bit late at work..”

Fuck. Dinner might be cold by then even if you manage to pull it off.

“And I’m not sure about Sirius,” he continues, “but I was thinking of grabbing some take away for home. What do you think, gorgeous?”

Well there go your plans for a romantic gesture. One which you meant specifically to be a surprise.

“That’s not going to work.” This time it does come out as a huff, and the tightness in your chest, the steam from the pans has you feeling anything but beautiful. It makes the endearment feel patronizing, and the building pressure, worse. You can’t help but feel disappointed.

“Oh.” He breathes again, pausing tensely. A surge of guilt rises in your chest momentarily. “Okay then. Why is that, lovely? I really don’t think I’ll be that much longer if you’re very hungry.”

“Merlin, Remus. It’s not that,” you groan as if chiding him. Okay, maybe it is that you’re a bit hungry, but your indignation has you swallowing that down. You just want to do something special without it going wrong. “You know what, don’t worry about it.”

“Darling, you have to eat something…” he responds sounding concerned.

“I KNOW!,” You erupt suddenly, all but growling. It was exactly the wrong thing to say.

It’s very unlike you to raise your voice at either of your boyfriends, so even you are taken aback by your reaction. You can still feel your words ringing out as you wait with bated breath for Remus to reply.

When he does, it’s far from what you expected in your already riled state. Between your two partners, Remus is certainly the sternest, and if it were any other day, he may lovingly set you straight, in that no nonsense tone that only he can seem to muster. But instead, what he does feels much worse.

“I’m sorry sweetheart.” His tone drips sympathetic honey, trying his best to soothe you. “I’ll see what Sirius says.”

Your indignation turns sourly into shame in an instant. You can’t believe you made him feel like that—so nervous. You could hear it in his voice. He was just trying to be sweet to you and you ruined it for him.

Before your welling eyes can spill and your voice begins to quiver, you manage a weak,“Okay,” and quickly hang up, lest you make Remus feel any worse. It’s like your throat is closing in on itself as you continue dwelling on your outburst. The stinging pressure behind your eyes is close to unbearable. Reluctantly, you pick up the wooden spoon you were using to stir the sauce and resume your shoddy attempt at a romantic gesture.

No sooner than you shed the first tear and dissolve into self-pity does Sirius burst through the front door of your flat.

“Darling!” he sings, hanging on the last syllable with affection. You hear him hang his coat up, his bag, kick off his shoes. “Where oh where is my angel girl?”

That does it. Now your shoulders shake and the next inhale is intense and you cannot help but gasp as you cry. Crying and keeping your sobs as silent as possible. How could he say that? You feel like everything but an angel and rather undeserving of such gentle affection. But, you wouldn’t expect anything less from Sirius—not from Remus either. Another salty tear shoots down your cheek. Maybe if you stay still, keep dragging the spoon across the pan, your boyfriend won’t notice.

But to no avail, Sirius’s excited footsteps bound from the entryway to the kitchen, drawn to the sound of sizzling and the smell.

“There you are baby! Why didn’t you say?” he rambles, taking everything in. Your back remains to him. “Is something burning?” he asks as he approaches you from behind. He sidles up with a smile and a hand to your back but quickly his disposition fades as he finally sees your distress. “Hey…Hey hey. What’s the matter, lovebug?”

You’re finding it quite hard to speak for the moment, that much is clear. Sirius, eager to soothe you pulls you smoothly into his embrace while flicking off the burners. “Let’s turn these off for now.” You let your head sink against his chest until you’re holding your face in your hands. His sweetness almost makes it worse and you hate that you can hear the heart break in his voice. “Come here, babydoll. Why don’t we go have a cuddle?”

…

It isn’t much later when another set of keys jingles in the door. The door opens cautiosly and you can hear Remus’s gentle footfalls as he puts his outside things away and shuffles elsewhere, bags rustling.

Your breaths come in slower strides, echoing their previous hiccups, and all you feel is warm and the warming pass of slender hands. Up and down your spine. Over your hair. Then something cool and soft presses to the top of your forehead as Sirius adjusts you both on the couch. Lips. Your chest clenches at its tenderness and when you hear Remus’s voice in the distance.

“Was someone making something?,” he projects from what you can tell is the kitchen.

“Yeah,” you shudder. Your face is hot and wet again. That familiar shame echoes, swirling in your gut despite Sirius’s coaxing.

“Darling?” You feel Sirius shift beside you as he presses a new kiss to your hair. “I’m gonna go clean up the kitchen and fix you a cuppa, and then we can all settle in. How does that sound?”

You nod, not trusting the strength of your voice at the moment. You wouldn’t dare stop him and reveal just how much you need him—them, right now. The last thing you want is to be left alone. Its hard not to wonder whether you deserve the warmth you’re craving.

As if he can sense your honest reluctance at letting him up, the space between his dark brows pinches with sympathy. He gives your shoulder one last rub before shifting to go find Remus. You hear his steps trail off and faint clinking as well as hushed voices. They don’t sound heated, despondent like you think they should.

You curl in on yourself with nobody to hold onto. You can’t believe how much you’ve fucked this up. You try and try to keep up with them, to let them know you care and want to show up for them as much as they do for you. And like everything else this week it was a total letdown. You feel profoundly embarrassed, and before the new tide of tears can break past your waterline, you hide your face with your hands.

The distant voices quiet, and the shuffling grows nearer. The room is warm with presence. Next to you, the cushions sink and a tentative hand comes to rest on your back. “Dove?”, you hear Remus say, gentler than anything. When you don’t respond, don’t unhide, he begins stroking your spine. It’s firm, and despite feeling undeserving, it already floods you with enough reassurance to respond.

“I’m sorry,” you croak, particularly to Remus. Instead of revealing your face you rub harshly at your wet eyes with your fists.

“Don’t, love,” Sirius tuts concernedly as he returns to the living room. He abandons your tea on the side table and gently replaces your hands with his kinder ones. Again, the coolness relieves your upset skin. Sirius shoots a worried, sympathetic look to his boyfriend.

“Darling ,"croons Remus sympathetically, "what are you sorry for?”

You meet his eye and force yourself to hold the gaze. “I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that. I…I feel horrible. It’s just..just…”

“Just what, dove?”

“I can’t do anything right, and—,” you inhale shakily, and Remus redoubles his efforts to console you with his hand. “I just wanted to be romantic and make dinner for us, but I ruined it.” A fresh tear tips over your cheek. “And I wanted to surprise you, but then I…I just snapped. I’m so sorry Remus.”

Your boyfriends’ hearts fracture at your confession and the one sat beside you wastes no time in moving you onto his lap and into his arms. Sirius rises to sandwich you between them on the sofa. “Oh my love, ” Remus sighs, petting the back of your head, “that is so sweet of you—”

“And really thoughtful!” Sirius interrupts. “No wonder you were so cross, Angel.”

“It makes sense,” Remus agrees, “but if it makes you feel better, I forgive you.”

“Not that you need it,” Sirius adds with a wink. He leans over to kiss your shoulder. It makes you smile and for that he’s relieved.

You pull back from the crook of Remus’s shoulder, calmer. “I feel like you both love me so well,” you say gratefully,“ but I don’t know how I can keep up.”

It stuns your boyfriends into silence for a moment, brows pinched and their eyes having a conversation you can’t hear.

“That’s not fair,” Sirius muttered offendedly. “You’re more than romantic.”

Remus nods then adds, measuredly, “I don’t expect it would be so apparent to you, considering how overwhelmed you are, but you are the perfect partner to us, and you should never feel guilty for letting us take care of you.”

“I second that!” Sirius exclaims.

“Really?” you ask tenderly, still calming but beginning to believe them.

“You, my love,” Remus says gazing intently, “do not need to prove your worth to us.”

Sirius slings his arms around you both. “You already have it.”

“Eyes at the back of your head…”

König & Civilian!Reader

Content Warnings : Stalking (a depiction of it - do no imitate), Not really romantic from Reader’s POV, Breaking + Entering (not that detailed…I think), Not really comforting in the slightest…?, Implied non con (not detailed)

“If you can— could you recall anything? It might help you process it.”

“I can try…”

The first time I saw him, was at the grocery store. Wasn’t a big deal or anything. His covered head was taller than the aisle, so that caught my attention. Something about me— I guess caught his.

The next time, was at my workplace. In hindsight, he- probably followed me. It is quite the distance away. Local coffee shop. His voice wasn’t what I was expecting. That— lowered my guard. By a lot. Asked what I suggested and he went on his way.

Started to become a regular. Weeks turned to months. It was- my fault, really, that I started venting to him. Must’ve given the wrong impression somehow. The conversation turned into flirting. …If that’s what you would call it. Got two drinks and then gave one of them to me. Didn’t have his number on it. Just a drink. I made it, so that was kinda weird. Then it started getting invasive. Pastries— a full bag of them. Not even from the same place. And tipping. Not put into the jar, but into my hand. I —even then, I can’t believe I was so… naive.

After one of my shifts, I was poofed. Took of my shoes and then I heard something from the bedroom.

I don’t have a roommate.

I slipped back out. At the time, I didn’t know it was him. The cops came — slow. It was all a blur, really. He apparently — climbed to the second floor from the first floor balcony. My clothes were all torn up. He-. I don’t even want to think about what he would’ve done if I..-.

Reader sighs.

“But, shouldn’t you already know all this, —

Laswell?”

“Just making sure to get the facts straight.” She turns off the recorder. “I’m glad you came to make a statement. That’s brave of you.” Kate holds my hands.

“Of course— I want justice.” Reader squeezes them back.

—-

Author’s note : New format! Just for this one though. The route I was thinking of to be “the end” : Laswell uses it as blackmail to form relations with Kortac? Could lead into the missions— like, a carrot on a stick…

And Reader gets a restraining order. For the “Reader” in this one — I think Laswell would either be a relative (that’s why Reader even gets their case pushed up) or someone through connections. But. I dunno how to write all that. ♥︎

I have a crush on the gray y/n character

Don’t care who they’re shipped with, I just love the gray blob

Soft Places🌷| Gator x you ending

Pairing: Gator Tillman × Black Reader

Rating: Mature (18+)

Word Count: ~1.6k

Warnings: angst, emotional conflict, suggestive themes, small-town hostility, reputation tension, canon-typical intimidation, soft romantic resolution

Summary:

After Gator pushes you away, Sunday comes again. This time, both of you have to decide whether grace is something you only talk about… or something you’re brave enough to accept.

ーーー

You don’t look for him the next week.

Not at the diner.

Not driving past the sheriff’s office.

Not even when you hear a truck that sounds like his rumbling down the road.

You told him you wouldn’t.

And you meant it.

Still… Sunday comes.

Sunday always comes.

You smooth the front of your dress in the mirror, adjusting the small gold cross resting at your throat. Your auntie watches from the doorway.

“You alright?” she asks gently.

You nod.

“Yes, ma'am.”

She studies you a moment longer, like she can see the thoughts you haven’t spoken out loud.

Then she simply says, “Let’s go.”

-

Church feels different.

Not louder.

Not quieter.

Just… emptier.

You slide into your usual pew. Three rows from the front. Hands folded over your Bible. The doors open. You look up without thinking. But it’s just Mr. Carter.

Then Mrs. Delaney. Then a family with three noisy children.

Service starts.

You sing the hymns. You bow your head in prayer. You listen to the sermon about mercy. But something inside your chest feels strangely hollow. Maybe that’s what loss feels like.

Even when you never had something to begin with.

ー

Service ends.

People stand.

Chatter fills the room.

You gather your things slowly. And for a moment, you wonder if maybe this is how the story ends.

Quiet.

Unfinished.

Then the doors open again. Boots hit the floor. The sound echoes through the sanctuary. Your head lifts slowly. And there he is.

Gator Tillman stands just inside the church doors, breathing slightly heavier like he came here in a hurry.

Every head turns. But he isn’t looking at them.

He’s looking at you.

And the expression on his face isn’t hard this time.

It’s uncertain.

You don’t move.

You just sit there.

Watching.

Waiting.

He walks down the aisle slowly. Not like the first time. Not stiff or defensive. Just…

careful.

When he reaches the pew, he stops.

“You said not to come lookin’ for you,” you say quietly.

“I know!”

“But here you are.”

He nods once. “Yeah.”

You study him carefully. “You change your mind?”

He exhales slowly. “Been thinkin’ all week.”

“About?”

“You.”

Your heart skips slightly. “You told me not to.”

“Yeah,” he mutters. “Well… turns out I ain’t good at stayin’ away.”

The honesty in his voice softens something tight in your chest.

“You didn’t come last Sunday,” you point out.

“I know.”

“Why?”

He rubs the back of his neck. “Because if I saw you again that day, I was gonna say something stupid.”

You tilt your head. “Like what?”

His eyes drop briefly to your mouth before lifting again. “Like the truth.”

Silence settles between you.

The church around you slowly empties. Your auntie watches from the doorway, but she doesn’t interrupt.

“What truth?” you ask gently.

His voice lowers. “That I think about you.”

Your breath catches.

“More than I should.” He looks almost annoyed with himself when he says it.

“More than’s good for either of us!”

You fold your hands in your lap. “That’s not a crime.”

“Feels like one.”

“Why?”

His jaw tightens slightly. “Because you’re the first good thing that’s looked at me like I ain’t already ruined.”

Your chest aches a little at the words. You speak softly. “You’re not ruined.”

“You keep sayin’ that.”

“Because I believe it.”

He studies your face like he’s trying to decide if belief is something he’s allowed to accept. “You don’t know everything about me,” he says.

“No,” you admit. “But I know what I see.”

“And what’s that?”

You meet his gaze steadily. “A man trying.”

The words settle deep. He looks away for a moment. Then back at you. “You’re dangerous, you know that?”

Your brows lift slightly.

“Dangerous?”

“Yeah.”

“How?”

“You make a man think maybe he could be better.”

Your lips curve faintly. “That doesn’t sound like danger.”

“For someone like me, it is.”

You sit in silence for a moment. Then you ask the question that’s been waiting between you since the parking lot. “Why did you really come today?”

He hesitates. Then answers honestly. “Because I couldn’t stand the idea of you thinkin’ I walked away.”

Your voice softens. “You told me to stop looking for you.”

“Yeah.”

“And?”

He takes a small step closer. Close enough that your knees almost touch. “I was hopin’ you wouldn’t listen.”

You blink.

“That’s unfair.”

“I know.”

“But you still said it.”

“Because I was scared.”

You watch him carefully. “Of what?”

His gaze drops again briefly. Then lifts. “Of wanting you.”

The confession lands heavy in the quiet church.

Your pulse quickens. “And now?” you ask.

“Still scared.”

“But you came anyway.”

He nods slowly. “Yeah.”

The air between you feels different now.

Less tense.

But warmer.

More honest.

You stand slowly.

He doesn’t step back.

Now you’re close enough to see the small crease between his brows.

“You know, you say softly, "church isn’t just for perfect people.”

He huffs quietly. “You told me that.”

“And grace isn’t something you earn.”

“I remember.”

“So what are you afraid of?”

He studies you a long moment. Then admits quietly: “That if I let myself want this… I might mess it up.”

You smile gently. “That’s always a possibility.”

“That supposed to make me feel better?”

“No.”

You reach forward carefully. Your hand brushes his sleeve. The contact is small. But deliberate.

“It’s supposed to make you honest.”

He looks down at your hand like it might disappear if he moves too fast.

“You sure about this?” he asks quietly.

You tilt your head.

“I’m sure about kindness.”

“And me?”

You meet his eyes again.

“I’m willing to find out.”

Something shifts in his expression.

Slowly.

Carefully.

Like a door opening that’s been locked a long time.

His hand lifts.

Then pauses.

“You mind?” he murmurs.

You shake your head softly.

His fingers close around yours.

Warm.

Rough. But gentle. The contact feels surprisingly natural. Like the space between you finally settled.

Outside, the church bells ring softly. You glance toward the door.

Then back at him.

“Walk me to the car?” you ask.

His mouth curves slightly. “Yeah.”

And this time when you step out into the sunlight together, the whispers don’t matter quite as much.

Because grace isn’t loud.

It doesn’t demand.

It simply waits for someone brave enough to accept it.

And for the first time in a long while-

Gator Tillman does.

- end of Soft Places ♡

Taglist bc I forgot: @bellastone @gatorgirlie @bunnybunnns

3:15 AM at the Center of it All

PLATONIC Moon Knight System (Marc Spector, Steven Grant, Jake Lockley) x Reader

Minors, do not interact

Author’s Note: This is entirely indulgent. With that said, I spaced out the writing of this too much and I think it shows a bit. Life has been so so stressful and my blog is a mess (I can’t find some asks people sent), so here is whatever this is!

Description: Everything around you seems to be amalgamating into an all consuming void of despair.

Word Count: 1,296

Warnings: A panic attack, stress

DO NOT use this fic in ANY way with AI. By clicking or tapping on “Keep Reading”, you consent to viewing/consuming this media. Minors do not interact. The cultivation of one’s internet experience is up to the individual, and any other personal preferences do not dictate the creations of others nor myself. The recreation, reformatting, re-posting or distribution of this content on other platforms is not welcome and I ask that any and all parties would keep from doing so, thank you.

With a violence that started intimately at the center of your chest, you felt as if you were being yanked out of your bed. Sweat, once slick and warm, had effectively dried to most parts of your quaking body. Still shaking fiercely, you managed to push off your duvet and scampered to the kitchen for a glass of water. 

Dazed from waking so harshly, you reached into one of the kitchen cabinets for a cup decorated with constellations–a birthday gift when you were still small and effortlessly impressionable. Though, when you thought about it, in the here-and-now you were faring much the same. The mere insinuation of discomfort, suffering, or danger and your heart would startle like a dove to flight. 

And there was simply so much to fear nowadays. 

Glancing over at the oven clock, the hour declared itself in a dull, neon hue: 3:15 AM

Perfect. Only two more hours roughly until your actual alarm would sound off leaving you a very structured amount of time to go for a run, come home, shower, eat breakfast and take the bus to your job at the library until eight with only a paltry hour lunch to break up the day. All of that followed by classes online…

Half of you wanted to simply stay home and risk losing that job. Not to relax of course. 

In your fathers’ absence, the apartment had become rather cluttered. Between the three of them, books were askew all over the floor, boxes of artifacts stacked haphazardly on top of one another, and so much dust and debris on the ground that you could feel it through your socks. 

Marc had promised to help with the cleaning after they returned from Egypt, but that had been almost three months ago, and none of them were answering their phone.

It was just you, the messy apartment, your job and the burdens of the world left to rest on your weary shoulders. 

Against your own control you let out a stifled croak before feeling warm tears freefall down your face. If you could have sunk through the floor, through the foundation of the apartment building and into the warmth of the earth, you might have welcomed it. 

Instead, you pressed your face into your waiting hands and sobbed loud enough for only the family goldfish to hear. The long working hours, the meager pay, the bills that effortlessly burned through each bi-weekly paycheck, the news–incessant and increasingly fraught with brutality and death. You cried quietly for your life–the carousel of grief you could not step off of for even a moment of respite. 

And then your name. 

Called so quietly, you could have imagined it. But upon picking up your head, you could see Jake standing only a few feet away. At first you peered at him, wondering if the lack of sleep and the surplus of anxiety was manifesting by way of hallucinations. 

“Shit.”

You could have sworn he looked ill, but perhaps that was due to the blue light from Gus II’s fishtank. 

“Look, we’re sorry,” he started, his hands already laid out in recompense, “we should have called, should have texted, and come home like we said–”

Moving on instinct alone, you scrambled out of your chair and sized their travel bag before bolting from the kitchen and toward your room. 

“What the hell are you doing??” Marc’s panicked voice followed you close behind. “We’re sorry! Just–give that back!” 

It was wholly and utterly foolish, but you believed with your whole heart that if you chucked their bag off the balcony, they wouldn’t be able to leave again, at least for a while anyways.

“No!!”

“You’re over-exhausted!” Faster than you, Marc grasped you around your shoulders and pulled you back from the sliding door that led to the balcony. 

He could feel the way you trembled and recognized it immediately. He would bet every cent of theirs that you hadn’t slept properly in weeks, and more than likely had reverted back to one of your regrettable habits–subsisting off of dry cereal and Red Bull. Thank the gods, you gave up almost immediately, dropping their bag and yielding to Marc’s embrace. 

“Jesus, kid…” He breathed before settling on the plush chair next to your bed.

Your choked cries faded into a weary silence. Marc, with one hand, reached for a tissue with which to clean away your tears. 

“I take it you missed us.” 

His attempt at humor had you huffing in reply. “You’re a liar. All of you. ‘We’ll be back soon’, you said. Does “soon” mean three months??”

“No…we…things didn’t go as planned.”

Briefly looking them over, you could see the bulk under their clothes. Underneath there was likely a trove of new, bandaged wounds that would require daily care. 

“Did you almost die?”

“Ah…you could call it that.” There was no use in lying to you; they all knew as much. “That’s why we didn’t call, it’s why we didn’t come home right away. There was no way to get out of the country while we were compromised.”

Since you became aware of the nature of their work, you had learned not to press for details besides what you absolutely had to know. There was only so much you could handle before descending into a void of worry and complete confusion. It was easier to imagine them as anything other than the right hand of an Egyptian deity. Perhaps a travel writer, or even an actor travelling all across time zones…

“Layla was there. And Khonshu, he protects us when we get in over our head.” Steven suddenly offered, having noticed your impending bout of despair. “But we are sorry.”

“You said that already. And for the record I’m still pissed.” It sounded pathetic when contrasted with the veiled nature of their work.

“Well, for the record, we can also tell.” Steven gave you a gentle squeeze as if the extra pressure would dispel your frustration. “But we promise to make it up to you.” 

“I…” you sighed, trying to parse through your thoughts before speaking again. “I don’t need you guys to make it up to me. I just want you to be home. Trying to keep this all together, it was like pitching water in a sinking ship! Every day I wondered if–if I was just going in circles for no reason at all because you might actually have been killed!”

“That’s not–”

“It’s happened before.” You muttered lowly before feeling Steven tense just slightly. 

He could feel the urge to bite back with his wordsThis was more than you could ever understand, more than you would allow yourself to understand and here you were bickering with him as if you were once again ten and determined to ignore your bedtime. But this was not the verbal defiance of a blubbering brat. This was their child, grown enough to worry for their wellbeing, old enough to manage their material affairs in their regrettable absence. 

“We’re sorry.” Was all Steven could offer for a third time. 

There were no guarantees in their life. Their next otherworldly endeavor could thrust them towards the precipice of some ancient peril with only the fealty of a moon deity to ensure their safety. Still holding you, Steven could feel your heartbeat, sure and frenetic. 

“Things have calmed down some…” Steven’s words were partially true. “We’ll all be around for a bit longer so you can focus on classes. That sounds good, yeah?”

He was steering clear of anything reminiscent of a promise. With a quiet sigh, you buried your face against their shoulder, allowing yourself to believe in a moment’s peace. 

“Yeah, that sounds good. Just…stay. For a few weeks. Nothing less.”

“Very well. A few weeks it is.”

I don’t know when I left writing,

Maybe I am making myself suffer less

I still cannot believe I used to write gosh

𝐌𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 || Kirby Reed x Male Reader - Jaxthebax - Wattpad

Y/N L/N had nothing going for him, and yet a Ghostface killer seems to single him out amongst his friends at the Cinema Club.

In order to survive, he’ll have to go from helpless to hero.