#( then he tries to patch it up but she's already stormed off to her room )

[shadowbriar]

Diego Hargreeves - Patches

Pairing : Diego Hargreeves x (she/her) Reader Word Count : 1.2k Warning : None. Notes : This might be the introduction of a story I'm working on. I cannot guarantee that I'll have the commitment to continue until it's end so don't have too much hope for this. I am open if you have any The Umbrella Academy requests at the moment, so do hit me up! If you like this story and would like to support me, please visit my kofi page and perhaps get me a coffee?☕

He got eight of them.

For the longest time in her life, she’s never understood the silly yet cruel joke life cursed upon her. To be able to heal everyone but herself, no matter the wound or injury one might have, she’ll cure it in no time, so long as it wasn’t inflicted on her.

Once, it wasn’t this pathetic nor lonely. She had her brothers and sisters to weather to storm through. There were Pogo and Mum to share cookies and stories with. It’s been years since she felt such comfort and to have to drag her feet back to the house that had turned itself from a warm home into a prison before the last days of her departure is surely weighing on her heart.

“Welcome home, dear.”

Her heart was filled with warmth once the familiar motherly voice greets her. The corners of her lips curved into a big smile as she dropped her bags, running to the dearly missed figure, “Mum.”

It took the bot a couple seconds to return the embrace. No doubt that she’s been lacking a lot of upgrades ever since she left. When the two broke the hug, she stared at the ageless caregiver with fulfilled eyes as it stared back at her with its bright smile, blank and not blinking. This might have been the most home she could feel while she’s here.

“You’re not supposed to come,” another voice echoes from the stairs.

“Diego, that’s not very nice.” Mum scolded lightly “Your sister has returned to us.”

The boy showed a thin smile to the bot, patting her lightly on the shoulder, “I think Pogo was looking for you, Mum.”

With a slight nod, the android excused herself out of the room.

Now if Grace’s presence lightened her heart, the sight of this black suited man certainly plummets it.

“You look awful,” She greets, noticing the scars that litter his face “Surely couldn’t find a better nurse than me now, can you?”

“Please,” Diego snorted “You’re more of a deadweight than a nurse, if ever.”

Ouch.

She lets out an exasperated exhale, folding her hands in front of her chest in defence, “Well, I’m not here for you and I don’t take joy either on coming back to this circus, so if you could just get yourself off that non-existent high horse—”

Before she could finish her words, Diego had already walked away as if she wasn’t there to begin with. His back becomes the abundant evidence that whatever bad blood they had years ago is still staining his skin.

It wasn’t always like this, him and her. In fact, they were the inseparable two growing up. If Luther had Allison, Diego had her. The many times she healed his wounds had led them to grow closer as the years went by. He was the one with the most injury to heal, after all. The most careless in battle out of the eight, never backing down from a close combat. Though he would always come out triumphant, a little cut here and there would be something he never escaped from.

“Don’t mind him, he’s giving us all the sour comments,” Allison said as she linked her arms to her “I’m glad to see you.”

She smiles at her sister, squeezing her hand slightly in reassurance, “As I am to see you.”

—-

“You should really learn how to dodge a punch, Diego,” She says as she runs her thumb through his bruise “One of these days you’re going to go home and I may not be able to heal you.”

“Is that a loss on your part or my part?”

Her eyebrow rose, purposely pressing on his bruise without healing it that he winces a little, “Or maybe I just won’t heal you, that’s definitely a loss on your part.”

“As if you’ll ever do that.”

“Is that a challenge?”

Diego tries his best to bite the grin but it proved to be an even harder task than to back out of a fight. He stares at her fondly, finding the jitters in his stomach to amplify the longer he stares yet it feels impossible for him to break the contact. Perhaps she casts a little of her magic everytime she heals him.

“Don’t stare at me like that.”

“Like what?” He asks.

“Like Klaus stares at a bottle of gin,” She says, now examining his other cuts “Like I stare at Mum’s cookies.”

Diego smiles.

“Like Luther stares at Allison.”

“Would it be so bad if I stare that way?”

The wake from the unintended nap hurts her head. Her bed is much smaller than she last remembered with her feet slightly dangling on the edge and how the pillows have certainly lost their fluffiness. Everything in her room stays the same yet at the same time, everything has changed.

—-

Diego defeatedly threw himself to the sofa. He sighs, his knuckles cracking as he tries to ball his fists. The tidal wave of emotions were beating him black and blue in silence. It feels as if he was swallowed by a giant blackhole with no light nor guidance to get out of.

There was no need for him to be rude to her, he knew that. He didn’t want to do it, but seeing her back in their house, hugging and talking to Grace, hurts. It took him years to try and ignore the ghost of her. She was the one force that would fuel his mornings and ease him to sleep at night. She was the one soul that he would always go to seek refuge. She was the one that he would lay his life on the line for without a second of doubt.

But he had to lose it all after one stupid night.

A night that he would never be able to grow out of, both from the horror and the guilt. Diego shut himself out for days following that terrifying night, locking his doors and skipping meals as he tries to think of all the what-if scenarios.

What if he stayed home that night?

What if he forced her to stay home that night?

What if he saved her before she saved him?

What if?

Mindlessly, he reaches for a knife on his left chest. It was a stranger to the rest of his knives collection. Compared to the polished lightweight knives he tucked in his suit, this one butter knife was rather dull. It would serve no harm to anyone, yet he kept it closest to his heart as if it was his most prized possession.

Diego stared at the knife. His brows knitted, examining the item as if it held the answer to all of his questions. Or perhaps some guidance. Anything to help him keep his sanity and not lose the plot now that she’s back in his life. Was she staying or was she leaving for the night? He wasn’t sure. But even if she is leaving, the hours he’d have to spend with her would suffocate nonetheless.

His thumb traces the engraving on the knife’s handle. A little trace of an infinite loop that had somehow become his stress outlet: the number eight.

[sinofwriting]

It's Like I Don't Know You Anymore - Max Verstappen (& Lewis Hamilton)

Words: 4,816 Summary: Y/N Rosberg, Nico Rosberg’s little sister, returns to the world of F1 after six years away. And she returns in the most unexpected garage. Warning(s)/Note(s): Takes place in 2022, Past Relationship with Lewis Hamilton that involves an age difference of about 11 years. Secret/Private Relationship(s), Smut in the Imola 2022 part

Masterlist | Support Me! | It's Like I Don't Know You Anymore Verse

Jeddah 2022

Lewis scoffs as he reads the trash article. It was anything but substantial and from a site that was more known for just recirculating already known things in their own words and for the occasional lie to stir up drama.

He had only seen it because he had alerts on his personal phone for her name and he couldn’t help but click on it seeing that it was popping up on an F1 related site. He expected it to be one of those top ten outfit things, he hadn’t expected utter garbage.

He’d know if she was returning to the paddock, he would’ve been told, especially during one of the first few weekends of the new season. The first season since he had won that he won’t have the number one on his car and his jaw clenched at the reminder that he was no longer the current world champion, that he had to stay longer, needed to stay longer. He wanted that eighth championship, and until he got it he was staying, needed to. And this year could be the year, would be the year.

“Have you seen this rubbish?” Lewis asks Toto when he steps out of his driver's room and into the garage. It’s filled with life as everyone gets ready for the first free practice session. Shouts being heard back and forth. The whirring of tools as mechanics make sure they’re all working and where they should be. “What rubbish?” His Austrian accent is thick as it wraps around the words. He glances around, looking for cameras, spotting none, he still lowers his voice. “Y/N,” the name is awkward off his tongue and it makes Toto flinch, no one had called her that, not unless it was for something important, like life or death. “Some blog reported that she’s in Red Bull’s garage.” He laughs. The taller man stills.

Toto after all these years still wasn’t sure what exactly had happened between Mouse and Lewis. He knew what had happened between Nico and Lewis, had tried to fix it, to patch it up, to stay neutral, but his preference for Lewis had been obvious to Nico and the brotherhood that had been so strong, had spanned so many years, ended quicker than it began as the season drew on and the tension got tighter.

And while he hadn’t managed to play middle man without one of them getting mad, shouting, screaming, storming away like a toddler. Mouse had. She had easily gone between the two men as they both threw fits. He still wasn’t sure how the girl had done it, barely an adult, but dealing with two grown men, but she had and handled it like a champ. Toto had never been allowed to hold Nico’s trophy like Lewis had allowed him to when he had won before, but he knew and had seen how Nico let her hold. As if it was not just his but hers as well.

Toto had expected when the 2017 season started even with Nico, leaving, retiring, for her to come anyways. Had set aside passes for her, made sure that she was in the system to be allowed in despite knowing that she would show up with Lewis, because that’s how it had always been. If she wasn’t showing up with her brother, she was showing up with Lewis. But she was a no show and when he tried to reach out, he was blocked.

She went full no contact with everyone in the racing world and at first Toto had thought that maybe something serious had happened, but she was still posting on her blog, though there was a distinct lack of F1, she just wasn’t talking to him. He could still remember the swell of anger that came over and then the shame that had quickly followed. How he had gone to Lewis to ask if she was alright, if she was mad at him, mad at Mercedes, only for Lewis to flinch, to shake his head. Telling him that he hadn’t heard from her or seen since the day after Nico won his championship. He could still feel the bitterness that rolled off of Lewis’ tongue as he said that none of the Rosberg’s were talking to him.

“It’s not rubbish.” Toto manages to say after a moment, trying to push back the memories, the grief of no longer getting to see Mouse grow up, because god she had just turned twenty-six and the last time he had seen her, she was twenty, still a child in many ways. “She is at Red Bull’s garage.” “What?” “She showed up after all the drivers did, waited I think, and made her appearance. Went straight to Red Bull. She had passes.” “She’s never liked Red Bull.” “You’ve never liked Red Bull.” Toto corrects.

It was a thing that had frustrated much of the Mercedes team, how despite himself, Nico, and Lewis despising Red Bull, she still liked them, would pop into their garage, chat with their drivers, mechanics, engineers, and such. Toto nearly had an aneurysm the first time he saw her and Horner talking.

“Doesn’t make sense.” “No it doesn’t.”

—

“Red Bull, huh? Naughty, naughty girl.” He clicks his tongue. She rolls her eyes, “You already knew that I was going there.” He laughs, “Doesn’t mean I can’t tease you about it.” “Was there a reason you called, Nico?” “What? I can’t check in on my sister?” She rolls her eyes again, but grins. “I just wanted to make sure that nothing happened.” “Lewis didn’t try to talk to me or at least not that I know of.” It was easy to read between the lines with Nico. “I stayed at Red Bull, in their garage, no one but Red Bull personnel came close to me.” “And you still want to do this?” “Yes.” Her voice is soft and she sits on the hotel bed, crossing her ankles. “I’ve missed it, the sport, the paddock, it’s nice to be back.” “And Mercedes?” “I have no interest in talking to anyone at Mercedes, past or present. They don’t matter, not anymore.” “Mouse. You will be careful, yes? I’m not there anymore.” “Careful as can be.”

Australia 2022

He expects her to be at the next race in Australia and he doesn’t know why. It had been one of the races she was always willing to miss as she hated flying there. Not feeling it was worth it.

So he pretends not to be disappointed when no photos of her arriving popping up, not even whispers of rumors of her sneaking in which he wouldn’t believe in the first place. The idea of her sneaking into a race made him scoff. It wasn’t her, that wasn’t how she operated. He knew her, knew she liked the attention of arriving at the races just like he did. He also pretends that it doesn’t hurt to think about how they used to show up together to races.

Imola 2022

“You’re going to win.” She soothes, rubbing his shoulders and he can’t help but let them drop, let her loosen the tension in them. “I retired from the last race.” “And that was the last race.” He wants to deny it, there’s still that feeling that settles at the bottom of his stomach when he doesn’t win, when he isn’t on the podium, in the points. But it’s lessened as he’s been with her. “And tell me, Schat.” He grabs at her hand, gently pulling her until she’s in front of him, standing between his legs. “Will I just win the GP or also the sprint?” She smiles and he can feel his heartbeat quicken. “Both.” She tells him, resting her hands on his face and letting their lips brush together. “You’ll win both, Max.”

He wins the sprint and then the GP and he’s thankful that she isn’t out with the rest of the team when he’s on the podium, that she stayed in his drivers room, waiting for him. Because he knows that if she had, he would’ve ruined their plans of staying private, secret. He would have kissed her, told her that she did it, she told him he was going to win, so he did. He won both of them for her.

Max does tell her that. He tells her that in between champagne flavored kisses, along with thanks and murmurs of his love against her skin as she sighs and tugs at his nomex.

“I could win every race this season with you supporting me, Schat.” His breathing is heavy, he’s in between her thighs, racesuit and nomex just tugged down enough for his dick to be free, ass exposed. She hadn’t protested, but moaned when he ripped through her tights that she was wearing underneath her skirt, and moaned again when he moved her underwear to the side. Rubbing at her clit to get her wet as he quickly prepped her before sinking into her. He repeats it as he thrusts inside her, high on not the two wins, but on her, on her support, her belief. “You're my lucky charm.” She freezes around him, her moans tapering off and he curses as he realizes what he said. “I’m sorry.” He murmurs, lips against her forehead. “I did not mean.” “I know.” She sounds sure, truthful, but her legs that had been tight around him, heels digging into him, have loosened.

“If I don’t win a race that is my fault or the teams. It is not yours.” He tells her. She nods but doesn’t look at him. “Schat.” He holds her chin between two fingers, holding eye contact with her. “You are my lucky charm. Not because I think I will win races because of you and your support. Because you make even the races I don’t win feel okay, like I haven’t failed.” “You haven’t failed.” She immediately says frowning and her legs are tightening back up around him. “You can’t win every race no matter how good luck it looks on you.” He flushes at her words. “I know you are different from him. You have shown that already.” She struggles with the next words. “I just don’t think I can handle being called a lucky charm yet.” “Then I won’t.” He tells her. She blinks at him, at how easy he said, at simple he’s making it. “But you said.” “Yes.” He shrugs, shifting his weight and they both hiss at how his body moves from it, both having forgotten that he was still inside her. But he pushes his building arousal away. “But I won’t say it any more. Not if it makes you uncomfortable.” She stares at him for a few seconds before smiling. “Ik houd van je Max.” He smiles back at her, kissing her. “Ik houd van je, Schat.”

He goes to pull out, unable to ignore the arousal building in him anymore, but not wanting her to feel like they need to have sex, but her heels are pressing into him, thighs tightening around him.

“Fuck me, Max.” He says her name, quiet and with wide eyes. She moves her hips and he follows them with a snap of his own. “You won two races.” She murmurs, breathing tickling his lips before she’s placing her lips on his jaw, moving them down to his neck. “Fuck me, Max. I want you to. Want to celebrate with you like this.”

She’s sucking a mark into his skin and he’s choking down a groan. “Just us two, our own quick celebration before you have to go with your team. Before I’m left all alone in our hotel room.” He starts to thrust again, pressing his lips against hers before she can say anything else, before he really leaves any earlier than he was already planning to at the dinner celebration the team was holding.

As he continues to thrust into her, his lips stay against hers, muffling both of their sounds, but as he feels his balls tightening, he breaks them apart, pressing her face into his neck, encouraging her to bite at him as his other hand goes between their bodies, to her clit.

The bite of hers against his collarbone when she clenches around him, cumming, has him hissing. He stills his hips as she comes down from her orgasm, still rubbing at her clit, but more gently.

“Where do you want it?” He asks, when she bats his hand away from her and presses for him to continue to rock into her body. His orgasm is quickly approaching and really he should be pulling out, just finish in his own hand in case he finishes inside her before she says it's okay. But she’s tight and warm and feels too good. “Do you want it in your mouth? Want me to pull out? Finish in my hand, feed it to you?” She moans at his words, at the thing they’ve done once before. “Or do you want me to leave you something? Cum inside you and have you feel it drip out, go back to the hotel with just your underwear stopping it from dripping down your leg and ruining your tights.” “Inside Max. Please, inside me.” He groans at her words, hips speeding up. He only manages a few solid thrusts before he’s shuddering, pressing as close as he can as cums inside her, muffling a moan against her shoulder.

His hips twitch a little in the aftershocks of his orgasm as he pants against her shoulder.

“You’re going to kill me.” “With what?” She laughs. “Orgasms?” “With your dirty little mind.” He tells her, slowly pulling out, rubbing at her thighs as he does. She laughs again and he smiles at how her whole face lights up.

Miami 2023

It’s Miami. It’s extravagant. It's the first race at the new circuit. It’s her.

She’s dressed in a soft color, bringing out her eyes. She’s wearing the bracelet he gave her when she turned fourteen, the ring her father gave her that once belonged to her grandmother. She’s not wearing the necklace he gave her when she turned eighteen. It’s back in Monaco, still sitting on the nightstand of what’s still her side of the bed.

She has new bracelets, rings, and a new necklace. The necklace makes his jaw clench, fists tighten. He had never thought to consider that maybe she’d be with someone else after all these years. He hadn’t, not for anything more than one night.

Lewis stares at the clasp of her necklace. Wonders if it’s worth anywhere near what he gave her. Wonders who gave it to her. Some boy with a trust fund? Some guy that managed to make it to the top not because of hard work but because of connections?

He doesn’t know and it burns alongside the anger. He used to know nearly everything about her and he still knows her, he just doesn’t know the new things and that hurts worse than not knowing her at all anymore.

He watches as Geri fixes the necklace for her and wonders when exactly she got so close to Horner’s wife. “Where exactly did you get this darling?” She glows at the name, “From a jeweler that Nico loves. I can never remember the name.” The burning inside him vanishes at his name. Something had changed, he knew something new about her. Necklaces were no longer just things she wore from significant others.

Spain 2022

He cocks an eyebrow as George comes up to him nervously, messing with his hands. “You alright?” “Yeah, I just heard a weird rumor.” His eyes dart away and George hates that Toto is making him do this but doesn’t want to think about why, can feel the headache from just imagining thinking about the why. “What did you hear?” “Apparently, Y/N Rosberg,” Lewis stills at her name and curiosity clutches at George before he pushes down and away. “got snuck into the Red Bull garage.” The older man immediately scoffs. “Yeah, right. She likes arriving at the races.” He raises his hands, “that’s just what I heard.” “Well, it’s wrong. A shit rumor. Anyone who knows Mouse,” the nickname leaves his mouth before he can think, can stop it, “knows that she loves arriving on a race weekend, all the cameras, getting to show off whatever outfit she put together.” “Just what I heard, mate.” George repeats, before quickly retreating, cursing Toto out underneath his breath as soon as he rounds the corner and is far away from Lewis.

Monaco 2022

She’s not at Monaco. She’s not at Monaco. The words are on repeat in his head. He doesn’t understand it. She lived here or maybe had lived here. Monaco was small, it was hard to imagine that he had never run into her since the end of 2016 but then again he managed to dodge him. So it was possible.

He just didn’t like the idea of it. That if she still lived here that she had made sure to dodge him, to make sure they never ran into each other.

Austria 2022

She doesn’t show up at Baku, her favorite circuit, Montreal, or Silverstone, but she’s here at Austria. He can’t make sense of why she’s showing up at the races she is. Can’t make sense of why it’s only Red Bull’s garage that she visits.

It’s driving him insane trying to make sense of it. Just like he can’t make sense of another rumor that she sneaked into watch the race in Baku. This one hadn’t been quiet though from George. It had made its run on twitter and instagram, though most fans of hers just like him, knew that they were false. Her blog was still full of talking about how much she loved showing up at race weekends, feeling the energy, interacting with fans, even if they were years old. It was telling that she never deleted them. And he knew that she’d never sneak into a race.

July 2015

“Lew?” Her voice is quiet, barely a whisper, as if she’s afraid he fell asleep. He makes a humming noise, keeping his eyes closed but pressing his fingers a bit more into her back as they dance along her spine. “When do you stop?” He frowns at the vague question, eyes blinking open. “Stop what?” “When did you stop seeing me as Nico’s sister? As a kid?” His fingers pause as he thinks about her questions, wonders if he really wants to tell her, really wants her to know. He takes a deep breath, in and out of the nose before letting his fingers continue to dance. “As Nico’s sister? Probably around 2011 and Nico wasn’t hiding you away from everyone as much. I still see you a bit as his sister, don’t know if that will ever change.” She nods, “and as a kid?” “December 2013.” He’s just happy that he doesn’t remember the day. “Nicole and I joined Nico, Viv and you on that yacht.” She makes a humming noise, curling closer to him. “Nicole noticed actually.” And he has to chuckle remembering his then girlfriend's reaction. “She hadn’t seen you for a few months and had never seen you like that. Told me that I’d have to help Nico out with keeping guys like us away from you.” She huffs out a laugh, but doesn’t say anything, sensing that he’s not done. “She said that and I looked and suddenly you weren’t five years old content only in Nico’s arms, or ten crying because Keke and Nico were leaving without you again. You had grown and you were fucking gorgeous.” She stares at him, unsure of what to make of what he just told her. Not sure how she felt that it was Nicole that had made him realize that she wasn’t a little girl anymore. “You know,” she starts. “I had boobs way before I was seventeen.” Lewis sputters out a laugh and she laughs as well. “Well, I wasn’t looking.” She shakes her head, before tucking it into the crook of his neck. “No, just waited until I was a month away from being legal.” “Yeah and I waited longer to do anything about it.” “Not that much longer.” She mumbles, grinning against his skin when he pinches at her.

Spa 2022 They're making a statement, not one that says much, her prior years coming to so many races and being friendly with drivers preventing that, but it’s still a statement.

It’s the second race since she’s returned instead of arriving before all the drivers or after when making an appearance in front of the cameras that she arrives when they are. More importantly she’s arrived with Max. She’s not on his arm or holding his hand, there’s a well kept distance between them. One that reads friendly, close, but not intimate. She wasn’t quite ready to go public with him, but she was willing to make it known that she and Max were friendly with each other.

“It’s nice having you here.” She smiles at Sophie, taking her eyes briefly off the little boy in her arms. “It’s nice being here.” The couch sinks next to her and she leans into Max as he wraps an arm around her shoulder, dropping a kiss to her temple. “Looks good on you.” He murmurs, smiling at his nephew in her arms. “A baby? Or a baby that looks identical to you?” “Well I’d much prefer one that looks like both of us.” She sends him a look, but can’t not smile at his words. “Sap.” “Just for you.”

Two days later she sits in a garage for the first time in years during a race and she remembers how much she loved it. There was nothing better than watching a race from the garage.

She watches as Max manages to recover from his grid penalty, making his way through the field and winning the race and she cheers with the rest of the garage, hugs everyone she can reach. As everyone runs out to greet Max, to watch as he celebrates his win, she stays.

Max didn’t have any impulse control when high on adrenaline, she knew exactly what would happen if she went out there with him, so she went back to his driver's room and waits for him.

Dutch 2023

“Mouse!” Lewis calls and he watches as she stills while Horner stiffens at the name. It makes him itch. Horner and the rest of Red Bull had always been the odd ones out, never calling her Mouse, but rather her name or girly, the last she took a shining to.

He could still remember the first time they had heard Horner call her that. He had been ready to punch him, but she had beamed at the team principal, jumping up to give him a hug and asking him about his wife.

“Lewis.” Her voice is cool and he nearly flinches at her calling him Lewis. He had never been Lewis to her, always Lew. “How have you been? It’s been awhile.” Nearly six years, he thinks but doesn’t say. “Good. So has Nico.” He flinches at his name. “Good.” His voice is quiet. “That’s good.”

Horner wraps an arm around her shoulders, “Let’s go. We’re going to be late.” She nods and doesn’t even glance at him as she and Horner walk away, leaving him looking after her with despair and grief threatening to swallow him whole.

Japan 2022

He watches as she looks at Max with tears in her eyes as the Red Bull crew cheer as Max gives his post race interview, smiling as he thanks the fans, smiling because he won his second championship.

As soon as the interview is done, he’s launching himself back into the arms of the Red Bull crew, they all easily take his weight, patting him on the back, cheering for him. And then he watches when as soon as they release him, Max sees her. His eyes going wide with surprise at seeing her.

Lewis watches as she leans as far over the barrier as she can, wrapping her arms around his neck as his go around her waist to hold her. He watches but nothing prepares him for what happens next, the pain that strikes his heart. Because suddenly she’s kissing him, tears running down her face and Max is kissing her back like he’s done it a hundred times.

He doesn’t hear it or see it, but one of Red Bull’s cameras does and it makes it into their video to celebrate Max winning his second championship. Her saying that she’s so proud of him, never been prouder, and that she loves him and the easy way Max says it back, no hesitation.

It’s that, not her kissing Max in front of seemingly the whole world, that makes him realize that the future he had imagined, the image of her that was still the nineteen year old girl he fell in love with, is gone and has been since the night that Nico won his championship and when she came to comfort him, he only had harsh and degrading words for her.

They never could have been together again after his accusations of her feeding Nico information, blaming her for his lack of winning because she wasn’t supportive enough, his accusation of the lucky charm she was supposed to be was nothing but bad luck just like she was and always had been.

He had deluded himself into thinking that they still would end up together, that her being the love of his life, meant that he was also hers. He’s deluded himself for almost six years and now it’s not just heartbreak that fills him but shame and guilt. Because how could he have ever thought she’d want to be with him again when he never even tried to offer her an apology or to tell anyone about her.

@cixrosie @darleneslane @fanboyluvr @quackquackhun @crystals-faith @andreea-15-25 @rewmuslupin @copper-boom @stopeatread @crashingwavesofeuphoria @gemofthenight @peachiicherries @lpab @topguncultleader @iloveyou3000morgan @benstormy @elliegrey2803

[onetoomanyfandomfixations]

Hi! I was wondering, if you are taking requests can I request reader taking care of Loona and/or Octavia like a mom or smth?

I dunno man I just want like… wrap them in my arms and tell them that sometimes shuts fucked but they’ll be okay

@idontreallyexistyet I’d love to!!

-

Loona & Octavia with Maternal!Reader

LOONA

Loona would be SO hesitant to accept you as a mother figure in her life

Like, it’s pretty well known to everyone that she was left at the shelter as a kid

So she didn’t have a parental figure until Blitzø

And as begrudgingly grateful as she is for him - he’s not always the best option

Enter you

You’ve worked at I.M.P as long as Loona’s been there

You’re the one who keeps everyone on track, and keeps them safe - patches them up once jobs are over

At first, Loona thinks you’re just doing this to get on her good side

And then she thinks it’s just because you pity her

But - eventually the hellhound realises that you just actually care

She subconsciously starts gravitating towards you

Sitting next to you in meetings, etc.

And on one really shitty day, she just breaks

Loona snaps, and you end up taking the brunt of the outburst

When you usher everybody else out of the room - she becomes even more defensive

But when you open your arms, and whisper “cm’ere honey, what’s really bothering you?”

She Caves.

In seconds, the usually sharp-tongued hellhound is blubbering in your arms, explaining how shit of a day she’s had

Now, she goes to you before it reaches that point

Sometimes, she slips and calls you mum

But you both pretend it doesn’t happen, for Loona’s sake

If she ever needs a hug, or to talk something out - you’re the first person she calls

Don’t tell Blitzø

OCTAVIA

Although Via has a mum already, they don’t exactly have the best relationship

Alot of the time, the owlet feels as though her mum only uses her as a pawn against her dad

At least Stolas tries

So when her parents hire you to help with her schooling - she can’t help but feel brushed off yet again

But slowly, the two of you build a relationship

You’re not like her other tutors

You’re passionate, and you let her go on tangents about astronomy whenever it’s even a little relevant

You’re patient, and you understand things in a way Via can understand

Over time, Via starts opening up to you, telling you about her parents - how their fighting affects her

And you comfort her

But, she’d always sort of assumed they were just kind words

So one day; when her parents storm in fighting yet again - she’s caught off guard when you stand up from the table

Even more so when you tell them both in a firm voice and a withering stare that they needed to take their arguments elsewhere

Because they were making Via uncomfortable

So when her parents finally leave

The teen can’t help but run over to hug you tightly, whispering a quiet ‘thank you’

[iloveinej]

𝐒𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠'𝐬 𝐰𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠

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Steve rogers x reader

Category: Angst, fluff

Warnings: Description of an injury and blood, mentions of nausea, fainting

Summary: (Name) has never had the currant to tell Steve about the injuries, afraid of bothering him. Not realizing that it can backfire.

Words: 2.6 k

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(Name) loved Steve Rogers with her entire being, and she believed that every person she met felt the same. With his blue eyes, kind smile, and charisma. How he cared about every living, breathing thing around him.

But it didn't stop her from shutting down whenever he was irritated, mad, or even tense. Maybe it was because of past trauma, or that she simply didn't want to become the reason why he was mad. But every time he became like that, (Name) felt almost scared.

Not of him, of course, but scared that he don't want her near him. It has happened before with other people.

Which was why she was sitting in a corner of the quinjet, headphones over her ears as she tried to control the pain that bloomed like wildfire over her back.

It was an unsuccessful mission. And she knew Steve, like everybody else, hated unsuccessful missions. He was leaning against a wall, both arms crossed over his chest with a hard, stony look on his face. He didn't speak to anyone, stuck in his little world.

And she didn't want to be an inconvenience by whining about the flesh wound on her back. Especially if he hadn't noticed that she was in pain.

Either way, she planned on patching it up herself, and then going to bed, hoping that the storm would calm enough for the next day. And if she were feeling luxurious, she might even go to the med bay to get the wound checked on.

Except she hadn't planned on the fact that the wound was efficiently placed on her back, therefore making it out of reach for her to clean it. And she was way too exhausted to ask anyone else or to even care about the matter. So she grabbed the bandages and wrapped them around her chest and back, leaving it like that before turning off the lights in her bathroom and throwing herself headfirst in the bed.

Not knowing Steve lay on the other side of the wall, waiting for her to come and say goodnight.

--

The next morning, the ache in her back had gotten worse, and her left shoulder strained whenever she tried to move it. She needed to get to the med bay at least once today. But first, she required a big cup of coffee.

When she made it out to the sunlit kitchen, the pain in her back had spread. Now, her head ached just as much, and every time she turned too fast, black splotches would show.

And earlier, when she changed her bandages the blood had entirely seeped through, leaving it soaked in red. But the blood had been diluted with another liquid, which she found mildly concerning.

She poured herself the coffee that was left in the coffee machine and put it in the microwave since it was cold. And while she stood there waiting she noted that the kitchen was empty, which was strange to be at this time of the day.

"Jarvis? Do you mind telling me where everyone is?" She asked the AI.

"I believe that Mr. Wilson is still sleeping." She let out a humorous scoff." Mr. Stark and Mr. Banner are currently in the lab. Ms. Romanoff in the training areas with Mr. Rogers."

(Name)s ears perked at the mention of him, and her mind spiraled into calculating thoughts. "Did Steve already eat breakfast?"

"Yes. An omelet, made of three eggs and a cup of coffee, one teaspoon of sugar, and milk." A frown tugged at her face. Steve never ate breakfast without her. Unless they were fighting, which was a rare happening. Steve believed that the most important meal of the day was breakfast, and therefore always made sure that (Name) ate it with him. But so that he could have company, and also make sure that she ate enough.

"Alright then. Thank you, Jarvis." She smiled up to the roof, hoping that he could see her appreciativeness. Then she made a beeline back to her room with a downturn of her brow, planning to do paperwork before throwing herself into her, not so fantastic anymore, day. Completely forgetting her visit to the med bay.

--

Paperwork had always been a somewhat calming thing to do for her to relax, turn off her brain, and go on autopilot. Often when she was stressed, Steve found her with her nose in her computer typing away without any knowledge around her. It always worked.

Except for today.

The pain in her head only got worse after all the caffeine, and she couldn't lean back into her chair either because of her back. And not only that, but thoughts of Steve plagued her mind. And not the good, lovey-dovey thoughts. But instead, the toxic, poisoning thoughts were so loud that it was the only thing she heard.

She had no idea what to do about their situation. And she was really afraid that she had accidentally done something the day before to upset him, giving her a reason for his strange and unlike actions.

"Mr. Rogers would like me to alert you that there is a team meeting in the conference room in five minutes." She jumped in her chair and a small yelp left her lips as Jarvis spoke, making her back strain. And that made her wince painfully.

"I apologize. It was not my intention to frighten you." A grimace covered (Name)s face in an attempt to smile, and she carefully rubbed her shoulder.

"Don't worry about it. I was just stuck in my head."

"How so?" And (Name) went quiet. She hadn't expected a question from him.

"Nothing special." She absentmindedly hummed for an answer, and that seemed to get Jarvis less curious.

"If you say so. 3 minutes left." And with that, she quickly grabbed her things and bolted out of her quarters, right towards the elevator.

--

She turned out to arrive just in time as Fury was about to close the door, and she quickly slithered in, choosing a stool at the back of the table so that she wouldn't get questioning eyes on her. When she entered she could feel Steves's's stare burning into her skin, but she doesn't have the time nor thought to greet him, which would perhaps leave consequences for later. But now she just longed to sit down before she fainted.

She didn't even notice when Fury started speaking because blood was rushing through her ears, and beads of sweat ran down her neck, sending a shiver through her ice-cold and fire-hot body. It was like she running a fever in an ice bath. She dared to subtly raise a shaking hand towards her back, slightly touching the wound, only to have to suppress a wince and bring back blood-stained fingers.

She was at least wearing black.

Her attention shifted when Fury changed places with Steve, and let him take his place in the front. It was hard to know if she found it either positive or negative.

Positive because she could focus on something that brought her calm, and hear his voice instead of the roar in her ears. Focus on his plack t-shirt and nice fitting jeans, which was something he didn't wear often. How soft hir hair looked and his pink , kissable lips.

Negative because now he could see how colorless her face had become, along with a thin cover of sweat by her throat and her lifeless tired eyes.

And perhaps it made Steve speak a tad bit faster, and perhaps he skipped over some of the parts he was supposed to introduce. But it looked like his girlfriend was dying, and Fury didn't need to know that his two most capable agents were in a relationship.

He could her heartbeat picking up more and more as he spoke, and it was a relief for him when he could finally dismiss the team.

She slowly stood up as the rest of them collected their things and one by one filed out. But she couldn't do anything as quickly as she liked, not even walk. She had no choice but to take a tight grip on the chairs lined up, and use them as crutches.

And when Steve turned his back to gather a pile of papers, she took a breath, straightened her back, and took two quick steps towards the door. But Steve heard the increase of speed in her steps in quickly caught her arms in a fierce grip, stopping her from escaping.

"Damn it." She mumbled, making sure that Steve couldn't hear her. And then she turned her head to meet Steves's's eye, trying to look as normal as possible, which didn't trick Steve at all. Only made him more concerned.

"You alright?" He let both of his hands smooth over her shoulders and arms, looking at her with those blue, affectionate eyes.

"Mhm!" She hummed, trying to sound as carefree as possible while plastering a smile on her face. But he didn't look convinced. Not at all.

He let his left hand travel up to her cheek, and he was about to say something. But when his palm touched her cheek, he flinched and removed his palm to see that it was damp.

"Steve-" She warned, but it was no idea. He had already raised his sleeve and laid his wrist over her forehead. And she couldn't protest because his wrist was oh so warm while she had been freezing and sweating cold ever since she entered the room.

"You're burning." It didn't feel like she was.

"Are you sick?" He asked, a frown on his face as she felt for her temperature. "Why haven't you said anything?"He scolded, and she shrunk into herself as his hands continued to investigate her. Until his hand came in contact with her wound. And she recoiled away from his hand, trying to get as far away from the pain as possible. Tears gathered in her eyes at the fire in her back, and she glued them shut as she tried to let it pass.

Steve brought his hand up to see when he felt something on the tips of his fingers, and his eyes widened in horror. There was a vermillion stain on his fingers, running down his hand. And (Name) saw both concern and panic as he looked down at her, as she was now leaning against his chest, too tired to stand on her own.

"I'm fine, promise." She said, lime on autopilot.

"We need to get you to a doctor." He insisted, about to take her under the knees and carry her there. But the second he tried to m, she leaned away.

And the guilt was there again. Steves tired but pretty face showed concern and panic, but she wasn't supposed to make him concerned and panic. As his partner, she was there to make him calm, happy, and satisfied. Sure, if Steve would hide a wound like this one from her, she would be livid. But that's hardly classed as the same thing.

"It's fine Steve, I'm sure I can get there me."

He scoffed and looked almost hurt.

"No, you're not going anywhere yourself. Not by how you're looking"

A protest lay prepared on the tip of her tongue, but she didn't get further than opening her mouth before a strong wave of nausea and dizziness washed over her body. And she swayed, once, twice, before her footing came undone, and she lost all sense of balance.

And it felt like she fell into a warm pillow, or perhaps she was just delirious. But it truly resembled a warm, fluffy pillow. And she snuggled into it, ignoring the distant calls of her (Name). And Steve's breath got caught in his throat when he saw her closing her eyes in his arms.

--

Steve was aware that something was nagging his lover's mind, and he had been aware of it during the last week. It was like she walked on eggshells around him and it bothered him. Because something bothered her. Something about him bothered her.

He hadn't done anything differently, not that he was aware of. He hadn't said anything either. And he liked to think that he had a great memory.

And he still couldn't figure out why she didn't tell him about her injury. Banner had told him that she was lucky that the infections in her wound hadn't reached any further. But Steve had a hard time seeing anything positive with the situation at all.

Duobts clouded his mind and made it hard to think straight. How could he know that she hadn't hidden other injuries that she could've gotten?

As if her mind was connected to his, as if she heard his self-deprecating thoughts, she came to her senses and let out a long and low groan, snapping Steve out of his head.

He quickly discarded his block and pencil to the side, leaving the drawing on the small table by the side before crouching down to her height.

"(Name)?" He dared to ask, and his heart felt lighter when he saw her eyelids twitch in response. A sigh left her dry lips before her eyelids slowly cracked open and presented themselves to Steve, giving him a confirmation that she was there with him.

"Steve." It came as a breath, her voice warm with love as she saw the familiar face.

As light as a feather, he let his fingertips ghost along her temples, repeating the momentum over and over again. Her eyelids relaxed, and Steve's back tensed as she once again closed her eyes. But (Name) could feel his muscle become rigid, and let her hand gently enclose steves wrist, running circles on his inner arm as comfort. As she always did.

"Why didn't you tell me?" An audible sigh sounded from her mouth, and for a moment Steve was afraid that he had annoyed her. But her fingertips were still dancing along the expense of his arm, and he let that comfort him. Although, she didn't provide him with an answer.

"You can trust me. I want you to trust me." He reassured her, and vulnerability spilled through his voice. He grabbed her other hand that rested on her stomach, entangling their fingers.

"I do trust you." She hoarsely whispered, throat dry and mouth like sandpaper.

But when she forced her eyes open, Steve looked at her, unconvinced.

"Then why? Why didn't you tell me that you were in pain?"

She wanted to bathe in the softness of his voice. Get nurtured by it, drink it, and stay by the sound to the end of time. The fondness, bonded with her worrying, guilty, and anxious emotions from before created bittersweet sparks under her skin. And it took form as a watery mist, covering her live full irises.

"I do trust you, but I don't want to be a nuisance to you." She painfully admitted and laid her hand on his cheek as a peace offering." You work so hard to succeed Steve, so hard that when you don't succeed, you become very tense. I don't want to be there to make you even tenser."

He shut his eyes tightly and nuzzled his cheek further into her palm, and a drop of water fell from his eye, rolling down his summer-tinted cheeks.

"Why are you crying?" Worry etched in her brows, but he only shook his head.

"I made you think that you would be a burden to me whenever I felt a negative emotion." She shook her head, already beginning her protest." A partner is not supposed to do that (Name)."

He leaned down and kissed her forehead. "I'm sorry."

"Steve, it was not on you. You didn't make me feel like a burden. I did. And I'm sorry for not telling you about my injury." She smiled sadly at him when he kissed her palm.

"I want to take care of you, and comfort you. I want to be that person to you, so let me be that the next time." And she could only nodd, her heart being free from the shackles of heavy emotions. Instead, she felt light as a feather.

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My requests are open;););;);)

[nightlyrequiem]

The Other Side of Paradise

9) The Greatest That's Never Lived

Cross posted from AO3

Ch.1, Ch.2, Ch.3, Ch.4, Ch.5, Ch.6, Ch.7, Ch.8, Ch.9, Ch.10, Ch.11

You try to make the best of your life working at a small bakery in a city with rising cartel violence. One slower day, a man starts harassing your coworker. Despite the obvious threat, you stand up to him anyway. Unbeknownst to you, Valeria just so happened to be there to witness it.

A/N- All chapters containing smut will be labeled mature. The fic is fully written with the whole thing on AO3 but chapters on Tumblr will be posted one a day.

Tags/Warnings: Fluff, Angst, Dual POV, Happy Ending, Plot with Porn, Graphic Violence, Inappropriate Use of a Knife, Masturbation, WLW

Valeria hasn't texted or visited you since that night two weeks ago. She chalks it up to her just being busy. She refuses to acknowledge to real reason. She has more important things to deal with. Figuring out who attacked her warehouse and Hassan, for one. She wipes at a drying wet patch on her face and glowers at the man she has tied to a chair. A Vaquero. She has no doubts that the recent attack has something to do with Alejandro. She thought getting information out of his little wannabe soldiers would be easy but among other things, it seems Valeria was wrong about that too.

She's beaten him, ripped out teeth, ripped out nails. Burned parts of his body, and still, he refuses to talk. Valeria storms up to him and harshly grabs ahold of the hair on the back of his head. She yanks down, exposing his face to her. The lower half of his face is a waterfall of blood. His nose is bent and obviously broken, dark purple bruises already forming beneath his eyes. His left eye is swollen so much that he definitely can't see out of it. His right eye, however, is wide open and glassy with pain.

She gives his hair another harsh pull.

"I'm going to give you one last chance to speak, pendejo." Valeria says quietly. She raises a knife to his face and taps his cheek with the smooth steel blade. The man doesn't respond. He just stares at her defiantly and breathes heavily. The sound is awful and grating. He sounds like a terribly bred pug. She slowly presses the tip of the knife into his good eye. He squirms and cries out, but Valeria doesn't stop. Her eyes are narrowed in concentration. She presses down and feels a small pop. His cries turn into screams as she digs in the socket and scoops out his eye.

It's not done cleanly. The eye is misshapen and deflated. She flicks her wrist to get it off of her knife, turning her attention back to the man. He's a crying, blubbering mess.

"Who. Attacked. Us?" She snarls. Grabbing his chin and shaking his head. Maybe she did too much. The man is starting to hyperventilate. He's probably going to die of shock soon, and someone like that is useful to nobody. She scowls and swiftly slits his throat. She stares at him for a few moments before angrily throwing her knife to the ground. "Fuck!"

She turns and tries to calm down. She'll give herself a brain aneurism if she carries on like this. She leaves the room and mess for someone else to clean up. She needs to wash this blood off of her. She storms into one of the spare bathrooms and locks the door. This isn't her home, It's Deigo's, but if he has a problem with her using one of his showers, he'll be smart enough to keep his mouth shut. She strips down and hops in. Quickly washing of the caking blood and dirt. Her thoughts drift back to you and your last conversation.

It's not like she even revealed that much, but she let herself be vulnerable. The thought rubs her the wrong way and leaves her feeling sour. Her insecurities, past or present, are no one's business but her own. You had sent a text a few days ago. Asking her how she's been. She hasn't answered and you haven't texted again. She feels strangely angry about that fact. You've spent all this time together, and at the first sign of trouble you back out? You're cowardly. Valeria has no room in her life for cowards. She gets out and redresses herself. Uncaring that her clothes are still crusted with blood.

She makes a mental list of what she needs to do. She feels disgruntled and furious. If an outsider won't tell her what she wants to know then maybe she should refocus her attention to her own ranks. Someone has to know something. Perhaps the corporal. He was supposed to guard the mountains and he failed. Everyone is failing Valeria. She should really just kill everyone and recruit better, stronger enforcers. She walks down the hall, ignoring the gaudy decorations. One of her soldiers comes out from a room and opens his mouth to say something. He doesn't get the chance to speak before Valeria punches him in the throat. He goes down with a strangled gurgle. Valeria has no patience for idiots and this man is born of a particularly stupid breed.

It feels like an impossible task. It feels like the beginning of the end. She needs to figure out who this other group, who weren't Mexican or British, are. They had enough firepower to kill a decent portion of her foot soldiers and almost compromised everything. They couldn't have been from a rival cartel. She didn't recognize any of the bodies and besides, one big enough to do that much damage would've shown up on her radar.

She leaves Diego's domain and goes home. She's tired, and angry, and has a terrible headache. The first thing she does once she's in the comfort of her own home is light up a smoke. It's terribly needed and very deserved. She brings it to her lips and takes that first calming inhale. Why can't things just go the way she wants them to? Just once? Each day it's starting to feel like every step she takes forward she's thrown ten back. She notices the time and knows you'll probably start cleaning up soon. She could so easily get into her car and drive over. Your presence is almost as calming as a cigarette.

She just can't bring herself to. She feels weird after admitting to having insecurities. It makes her feel disgustingly human. Maybe it's because a part of her is worried you'll figure out she hasn't changed that much internally. She's better than everyone else, she knows that, but there's still that small sliver of herself that doubts that fact. She could hurt you so easily to remind herself of that she is better. You practically throw yourself at her feet for her attention, and she could confidently bet that you'd stay with her no matter what she did.

The temptation is ever present in her mind. Even later that night while she lies awake in bed, unable to sleep. She realises that that's not what she wants. You haven't tried to play games; you haven't tried to deceive her. You're honest. Perhaps a little too honest but with the people she's surrounded by, that's refreshing. She picks up her phone and opens up your contact. Staring at your unanswered text. She doesn't feel bad for ignoring you; she's not even sure if she's capable of feeling guilt, but she does want to answer. She may lack more empathy than what's considered 'normal' but she still has feelings.

She deserves to have good things in her life, and you seem to be a good thing. She sets down her phone. She'll talk to you in person instead. She's always preferred a more personal approach. She just has some work to do first.

[essapedstom]

Part 5.

Neteyams pov

"Training to become a warrior will not kill my daughter, i refuse!"

He heard your mom grit from behind the long large cloth that separated the hammocks and sitting area. He got up and peeked through the cloth before looking back at his siblings making sure none of them were awake which they weren't. There your mother sat facing His dad and Neytiri pacing around the room with Your dad sitting next to your mom hand on her knee to relax her.

"I- we won't lose another child." Your mother lowly cried facing your father. "We can't." She sputtered trying to keep composure. "We won't." Your father said trying to reassure your mom.

Neteyam was aware of your older brothers death, he was 14 when it happened. He always said to Lo'ak how he wanted to be built like him which Lo'ak would then respond to by making fun of him. But only a few words were ever exchanged between the two boys.

"Look Olo'eyktan, Neytiri If this training you are hoping for Y/N to complete will kill her-" Your mother paused.

Neteyam felt immediate guilt, was he the "training" that was going to kill you? Yes he disliked you more than anyone could possibly believe but to kill you, that would never be his intention.

"Then i cannot allow for it to continue. They cannot even be friends let alone mated if they hate each other this much, it will not work." Your mother finished.

"She is right ma Jake, but Se'ayla, Ta'achi (Your mother and fathers names). She turned to face them hand on jakes shoulder. "it was decided by Eywa, told to my mother. It must happen." Neytiri chimed.

"Exactly we canno- what" Neteyam thought silently. Mated? Absolutely not, Never. Are they joking, they could not be serious. With you? Out of everyone you? Really Eywa decided?, Neteyam wasn't one to question her ever but he was certain Eywa was wrong this time. Unsure of whether or not to storm in there or go to bed he decided against aggravating his father after the trouble he was already in and went back to his hammock

"He needs this, It will be good for the clan, good for everyone. I assure you this will never happen again Se'ayla." Jake said trying to comfort your mother whilst sharing concerned glances with your father. Neteyam tried to sleep it off, forget about it, but it was no use. His parents wanted him to be mated with you. He would have to go to hell and back to get them to go back on this already made choice.

Sunlight came over the forest meaning rays of the warm light hit your tired eyes. You hadn't slept, well kind of drifting in and out mostly forcing yourself to stay awake, afraid of dreaming again. You got up realising how early it was when you saw everyone still sleeping and your parents back in their hammocks embracing each other in their sleep. You jumped down from your hammock as quietly as possible before removing your home loin cloth and top replacing them with a matching purple set. This one had a longer loin cloth but top that only covered the nipples with a few blue feathers hanging from it. You left the hut not waking anyone and going down to the lake that had a fresh stream of cooling water.

You walked instead of calling for La'ila wanting to enjoy the view of the forest and more so forget last night. Once you began to see a clearing in the trees and a large patch of bright green grass with the lake in front of it you sped up running to jump into it.

You splashed in the water being engulfed by the ripples that clung to your body and the fishes that swam around you. As you resurfaced you made your way over to the edge of the lake where you had originally jumped off of and sat admiring the small fishes swimming in and out of your legs. Water dripping from your braids and racing down your body being soaked up.You sighed feeling the warm sun against your back bathing it in temporary happiness.

You were a great warrior, Great fighter, Great hunter, so why was life so hard. You had everything at least one person in the clan craved yet you were unhappy. "Maybe i need a mate." You said aloud laying down onto the grass feet still dangling in the water. Talking to yourself wasn't something you did much but when you did it wasn't weird. You then heard footsteps coming up from behind you. Getting up and looking behind you, your heart settled. It was just Kiri. You and Kiri were the best of friends although you hadn't spoken much over the last 2 days your bond was unbreakable.

"KIRI!" you shrieked as you ran up to hug her throat still tingling slightly, covering her in the left over water that was on your body.

"Y/N i missed you so much i feel like we haven't spoken in forever!" She responded laughing. You sighed nodding not wanting to use up your voice too much. "oohhhh i forgot Grandmother said not to talk. Yikes how's it been?" she asks, You tilt your head staring at her deadpan before you both burst out into laughter holding each others arms which is something you both did for some reason. Her laughter verbal, yours silent. "ahh it's so weird not hearing you talk a lot." You raised an eyebrow at her communicating a sense of attitude.

"No i'm not saying you talk a lot.....okay i am but i miss it!" She said laughing uncontrollably, getting louder on her last words. What she didn't realise was you stepping closer towards her and her stepping backwards until she fell into the lake causing large splashes of water to go everywhere. Again you silently laughed watching her come up out of the water as she still laughed spitting water out of her mouth.

"kiri." You heard a deep voice call out from behind you freezing all and any laughter that had just been produced. You helped kiri get out of the lake before turning around and looking at Neteyams tall figure which was already facing you.

Kiri got out hair dripping with water that landed on her face and eyes. She looked between the both of you before quickly moving forward to her brother sensing the tension building up. "Yes." She said softly. "Grandmother calls for you." Neteyam said lowly not even looking at kiri but keeping eye contact with you. You returned the stare trying not to blink. "Okay let's go." Kiri said trying to push Neteyams chest back so he would follow her and the two of you would not be left alone however neteyam remained still. "I am coming, Go." He ordered her. Kiri glanced back at you as if to ask if it was okay, you simply looked at her softening your eyes only the smallest amount allowing her to turn around fully and leave you and her brother behind.

Once he believed his sister was out of hearing range he began to walk towards you his lean tall figure blocking the sun as he stood right in front of you. Again you were never one to let anyone intimidate you so you continued eye contact with him.

"I'm sorry." The words rolling off his tongue surprising you. Your skin above your eyes where eyebrows would be knitted together in confusion. "For that." He continued pointing lazily at your neck that still had fading dark bruises from his hands. Why was he apologising. You couldn't care less about anything he had to say, he was pathetic. You began to push past him and try to go home when he pulled you arm stopping you from walking any further. Your eyes shot towards his large hand on your upper arm and your ears pointing upwards before looking back up at him with threatening eyes. "I came to apologise. Accept it."

Anger bubbled within you and your mouth opened. With your voice as hoarse as a cigarette smoker you began to if you could, scold neteyam. "Accept? You want me to accept what? Your apology? I will never ever accept anything from you." You said as you inched close to his face. "Get off me." you spat, nose slightly scrunching with anger. You were now on your tiptoes to get as close to his face as possible with his tight grip still on your arm. You stared for another second before you felt his touch disappear and the heels of your feet come in contact with the soft ground again. You turned and began to walk away, tail swaying frantically out of anger. Leaving neteyam in the clearing alone, frustrated. A strong gust of wind came pushing his loincloth up before he pushed it back down in annoyance then suddenly feeling something hard protruding from under it. He was hard. "Fuck" He thought to himself before palming it gently. Did he really get an erection from the woman he hates refusing his apology. He sighed before moving behind a thick tree to take care of himself.

"What am i doing." he mumbled as he untied the sides of his loincloth and sat down back against the trunk of the tree. His large cock springing up from the restraint of the fabric slapping his stomach. He rubbed its entire length slowly trying to be as quiet as possible, breath shaking and thinking about different girls in the clan. Drops of pre-cum emerging from the spongy mushroom tip as his strokes became more desperate and fast. Different faces of girls raced in and out of his mind but for some reason yours would flash in for just a second before he forcefully removed your image from his head. "Fuck." he moaned absentmindedly as your face flashed in his mind. Chest rising and lowering slower as his breaths became longer and drawn out his hand pumped up and down faster whilst the only name he could think of was yours.

Neteyam hadn't always hated you. To be honest he was infatuated with you from when you were 10 and he was 11. It was the day your younger brothers were born, your mother had just given birth and was resting in the healing tent with Mo'at who looked after her a few days after that. It was rare for twins to be born so when they were you were ecstatic to have the new addition to your family and your mother needed extra care. You would collect flowers and pretty stones for her out in the forest so they would be ready when she came back home. And one day you were doing just that, "Hey what are you doing?" Young Neteyam called from behind you as you looked for different flowers.

"I am picking flowers for Sa'nu (mother)." You responded standing up to look at the boy. You and neteyam were extremely familiar with one another as you spent a lot of time in his home and the healing tent because of your mom or hanging with kiri and Lo'ak. "Let me see them." Neteyam demanded reaching out to grab the small basket you had. "No." you voiced pulling the arm with the basket back. "Why not? i cant tell you if they're nice." He tried to reason his voice way higher than it is today. " I know they're nice skxawng (moron) they are my moms favourite." you responded sharply wanting to leave that part of the forest and just go home. As you tried to push past him he grabbed the basket from you causing all of the pretty flowers to fall out and just as they did a strong blow of wind came scattering them everywhere. "NETEYAM!" you shrieked annoyed at his incompetence as you looked around yourself seeing the pink petals flow away into the lake and different parts of the forest. "If you had just let me see them it wouldn't have happened." He proclaimed in hopes that you wouldn't tell his father. "This is not my fault! ugh oe ve'kì nga!"(i hate you!) You cried out as you snatched the basket back making your way back to the forest with tears in your little eyes.

You honestly had forgotten about the situation but neteyam, he would never. He would always see it as you rejecting an offer of kindness from him. Especially when he had a crush on you. So your hatred of neteyam stemmed from his constant disruption and criticism of everything you did.

When you were 15 your bond with the sully kids became even tighter, they were like your second set of siblings, excluding neteyam of course. He avoided you like the plague which you didn't mind, until he only was only around when you were doing target practice or hunting for animals to critic your skills.

You were teaching Lo'ak how to shoot perfectly and never miss, which you prided yourself in executing everytime. "Straighten your back Lo'ak." You chuckled as you pushed your hand against the small of his back like you had 100 times before. "if i keep straightening my back." He said mocking your voice with the last 3 words "I'll be stuck like that forever." You laughed before immediately becoming serious. "Fnu (quiet) Lo'ak it takes a lot of concentration and a straight back to do this. Now straight back and lift your elbows up to here." You instructed stepping closer to him adjusting his elbow. "Now deep breath...." You paused. "Shoot." Just as you said that Lo'aks finger released the tight string allowing the arrow to fly free and hit the side of his target. "OOOOOOHHHHHH THATS THE BEST IVE DONE SO FAR!" Lo'ak cheered gesturing to the many arrows that lay on the floor next to his target.

"I know! Well done!" You exclaimed, happy for your friend. Lo'ak then handed the bow and arrow to you so you could have a turn. You grabbed the bow and arrow before raising an eyebrow at Lo'ak basically telling him to watch the pro. Straightening your back you fired the arrow and landing it right in the middle of the target, perfectly. It wasn't new to you it was like blinking, so natural and easy but it always fascinated others like Lo'ak. "How do you do that, it's so cool." He chimed adoring how talented you were in the skill. Before you could answer him with some fake balloon headed joke Neteyams voice was heard.

"Because it is easy." You both turned your heads to look at him, anger slowly but surely coming over you. You shoved the bow back into Lo'aks chest. "Neteyam do you think you could do better?" Lo'ak asked recovering from the small stumbled you caused to him, he loved to tease his older brother. "With my eyes closed." You scoffed at his ridiculousness before walking over to the arrows that Lo'ak had tragically used in his small practice. This angered neteyam, Why doesn't she believe me? he thought. He picked up the bow which you had given back to Lo'ak and another arrow as he then took once glance at the target before closing his eyes, inhaling a deep breath and firing the arrow. The sound of the small crack of wood could be heard. You looked up to see the arrow neteyam had just fired between the arrow you had shot. Splitting the thin wood in half. Your heart jumped a little before you continued to make your way over to the scattered arrows, picking them all up and then pulling neteyams arrow out of the tree adding it to the bunch in your hand. Walking towards the two boys neteyams eyes landed on the swaying of your hips and the new necklace upon your neck. You shoved the arrows into Lo'aks chest again telling him you'll meet him after dinner not even paying any attention to Neteyam and his little performance. The frustration in his stomach boiled, That was a absolute perfect shot so why didn't you say anything, why didn't you notice him you didn't appreciate anything good. Those were the thoughts that ran through neteyams head before being brought back by his brother. "Neteyam, Yo neteyam! we gotta get going it's eclipse soon." Lo'ak said as he hit softly hit neteyams chest.

The older boy said nothing as they both turned around and headed home to where Lo'ak would exaggerate on how good his session with you went to his parents.

"Fuck" aside from the occasional cusses the only thing that could be heard from behind the tree trunk was neteyams heavy breath and the slick sound of his hand rubbing up and down on his length intertwined with his spit. Your purple loincloth and top with blue feathers harboured in Neteyams mind. How you spoke to him telling him to get off you, Oh he was getting off on you alright. As his hand did it's job your face finally settled in his mind, everything he wanted to do to you, not another girl just you. How pretty you would look with your soft lips around his cock and shoving it down your throat finally shutting you and that bratty mouth up. He mentally cursed himself for thinking about you in this way. With a few final strokes neteyams breath hitched as long strings of white gummy cum shot out of his tip coating his tired hand. He continued pumping his cock riding out his orgasm as your shrewd up versions of your name emerged from his lips, The full version, Shortened versions he'd made up or just cuss words. Once he finished frustration took over, It shouldn't be you he thought about, why was it you? what was wrong with him? Question after question he thought about as he washed himself on the lake in front of him.

———————————————————————————sorry i feel like this one's short.

i hope you enjoyed reading it as much as i enjoyed writing it xxxx

wc:3012

[orions-hole]

GREEK GODS? | Piper | 3/?? | 1/5

ALL | PREVIOUS | ... | NEXT

The week had already been horrible. First, my (ex) boyfriend did a "prank" that nearly killed Jason. Then there was what happened with my father... I still got chills remembering the nightmare.

I was all alone in a mansion. I felt... small. So small. "Dad?' I called out but nobody answered. The corridors seemed to crush me. "Daad?" I called out more desperately and arrived at the living room. The firepit was gigantic. It could swallow me whole. I held tightly onto my plushie and then... A giant walked out of the fire. Suddenly everything changed. We were no longer in a gigantic living room but a gigantic cave. And dad... he was bruised, battered. I tried to run to him, I really tried. But I wasn't moving.

IF YOU WANT HIM KILL STORM AND FIRE

I was unsure what that meant. It was scary but I decided not to dwell on it further as Jason woke up. It was so cute how much he flustered... I enjoyed playing oblivious. He was 13, and I was 15 nearly 16. So I wouldn't let him know I was aware of his feelings, for his own good.

As we got off the bus Dylan took my hand and dragged me around, he was back to acting all sweet and caring, but after that day... I just couldn't see him the same. "Why are you acting like nothing happened?" I asked coldly, he tilted his head "What do you mean?" "Oh. And now you play blind after what you did to Jason!" I snapped, but he continued pretending to be clueless. "I don't know what you-" "YOU HUNG HIM OFF THE ROOF HOW CAN YOU SIMPLY NOT REMEMBER!?" I snapped, and I saw a strange wave of realization in his eyes "..I thought you stronger to the mist, love..." "STOP IT WITH THE LOVELY NONSENSE! I told you that day! WE ARE OVER!"

I felt the wind pick up, but everything seemed normal. Then... a hand choking me, but I couldn't see anything.

"I should've known your mortal eyes would eventually be deceived..." Dylan snarled, his voice was so full of fury - like the thing in front of me wasn't even human.

Then something shot him - I fell with a thud and Leo dragged me inside the bus. That's when I saw who had shot Dylan. Jason. Coach kicked Dylan and told Jason to go inside. Jason listened - me and Leo dragged him inside. The Bus's doors closed and all we saw was a hurricane unfold outside, but based off Jasons expressions... He saw something much, much worse.

Everyone was huddled up together - trying to keep each other safe, when the winds died down. A girl forced the door open. She... looked like a well-seasoned warrior. A soldier born into the war. Her hair - Her skin. I didn't pay attention to any of that. Just her scars, like the patches of grey hair - no doubt from stress and strain.

"Everyone. Out. It's safe now." Her voice was cold - but also with an edge of worry, like she was looking for.. something. No - someone. She was very worried.. I could tell - but something also told me.. That it was someone so important. She'd fight god to make sure they were sure.

We followed her out - there was another soldier, this one even more scarred, he was holding a necklace up to everyone's forehead, no... a thermometer. No definitely a necklace on second(third) thought.

It glowed on Leo's turn, it also glowed with me, and it glowed with Jason. "..these three need emergency transport" she decided and told everyone to hold still and wait for the rests of the medics.

She took me and the kids back to a carriage. She sat us down and sighed

"Hello. My name is Annabeth." "Hello Annabeth... I'm Piper" I extended my hand, she never took it, instead she turned to the driver. "You explain, or I explain?" "Well, I guess I am the trained professional," he sighed and hopped over to us. He was much like coach hedge. Yet... so different.

"Hey, you know greek gods, right? Like Pan the god of the wild or Athena the goddess of wisdom?"

I nodded, yeah I'd read about them for one of dad's movies... dad. The earlier soldier came back and took Annabeth away, talking about something, coach-hedge-if-he-was-younger resumed talking "So, every person has different faiths, but the greek gods are reals, and they have... angered a lot of people of the centuries. Right now.. That storm, it was a bunch of venti. They targetted you three, well because... hey Malcolm!" The boy threw the amunet and the goat held it up, it glowed shaprly. "because you're demigods." "What- What you're saying makes no sense goat man." Leo said, he laughed "How do you know I'm a goat, then?" Leo rolled his eyes "Because of my GREAT imagination." he snarked - "I always see weird things! Coach hedge was also a goat. Its just my imagination"

The boy relaxed and laughed a bit.. He sighed "Let's start from 0. I'm Grover, you three are?" "Jason" "Leo" "Piper"

That was... the start of a very confusing(and very scarring) year and a half.

[theplumpkinpatch]

I posted 533 times in 2022

That's 533 more posts than 2021!

92 posts created (17%)

441 posts reblogged (83%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@agooberscast

@theplumpkinpatch

@pudgy-planets

@itsjustagoober

@sugimoto-dorm

I tagged 355 of my posts in 2022

Only 33% of my posts had no tags

#ask call - 170 posts

#the mun speaks - 147 posts

#please specify muse - 94 posts

#irl stuff - 94 posts

#ask prompt - 77 posts

#silliness - 74 posts

#over there - 62 posts

#:3c - 41 posts

#devouring - 36 posts

#punk'd - 36 posts

Longest Tag: 57 characters

#just send them some fun and silly and wholesome-ish stuff

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Expanding Butt Punk'Anne just busted her gourd and it was the last straw

Expanding X - My muse gains most weight in the specified area (chosen by the asker and if not specified, the mun who answers) (examples: breasts, hips, ass, etc.)

GA-SHUNK!

That is the sound Punk’Anne hears and feels once her gourd gives up out of the blue as her bottom just balloons out past what it is. It’s a few moments of stunned silence before the ghost simply gets up from her seat and/or the floor. She leans forward on her desk to right herself and look back without falling over. A rather jiggly mass behind her, already more-so than the one she already had.

She balls her hands together as a bubbling lid of emotions being pushed to the top, her hair strand on the top of her head starting to waver and wiggle in frustration. She’s trying her exercises to keep from blowing up like her mother does, but this honestly was the last straw indeed.

“I can’t fucking believe that someone decided they needed to blow my ass up today! Of all days, of all times?! Do any of these motherfuckers know how long it takes to actually grow back a gourd of proper size, even when this shit goes back to normal?? I can’t BELIEVE THIS BULLSHIT!!” Finally, she’s had enough and use Rock Smash on her desk, splintering it to pieces and proceeding to continue to do so until nothing is salvageable. This leaves documents and other things needed for doing her job flying around the room and fluttering past her as she tries to not just EXPLODE.

“You know what? Fuck this shit! I’m tired of being the butt of the joke for everyone around here!” She tosses her chair out the window as hard as she can, shattering the glass and making a huge amount of noise. “FUCK THIS. I’M LEAVING. I DON’T KNOW WHEN I’M COMING BACK, BUT DON’T COME LOOKING FOR ME! RRAAAAAAGGGGHHH!!”

Alyson watches, in genuine shock, as her eldest daughter is bared to the world, jiggling away as she grabs a go-away dufflebag, her fishing gear and storms off past the gate of The Patch. She then using Phantom Force to disappear into the shadows and zip away as fast she can. “..........Oh Arceus, what did they do to you, my baby girl?“

3 notes - Posted January 16, 2022

#4

Heath goes up behind Alyson and wraps his arms around her. "Happy birthday, my dear~" He rubs her belly with one hand, squeezing her hip wit another.

"O-Oh? Mmm, Heath, you old romantic~.", coos the giant woman with her fellow giant partner. "I appreciate the visit and the handsiness~.", as she wraps her own arms around him the same.

4 notes - Posted October 31, 2022

#3

The Pumpkins are just bats now.

The peeps in the forest are all back to first stages or fully evolved.

Maribelle is nice.

Seta is back to her original self.

4 notes - Posted April 1, 2022

#2

"That really you P? What the heck turned you into a bat? Please tell me it wasn't your brother, I have enough reasons already to want to smack him..."

Tiny squeaks and cheeps as Punk’Anne tries to explain. It is very hard when there is a language barrier. Seems it wasn’t him, though, if her flapping is anything to go by.

5 notes - Posted April 1, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

" Oh my what a cute little pumpkin apparition you are~! " Elizabeth moves her fattened body over towards the pumpkin type pokemon. " Would you like to come home with mommy? "

It takes a moment for anything to respond to her. What she thought was a pumpkin spirit was just a pumpkin, actually. Very cute and small.

What does respond is the matriarch of The Patch, the Super-Massive Size Gourgeist turning over from her nap to look down at her very plump visitor.

"Cute, eh? Little? Lady, I don't know who you are, but you are either blind...or you've got good taste~." She finally turns fully to face Elizabeth. "Mmm, and what brings someone like you to my territory, little cutie~?"

11 notes - Posted August 20, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[danger-tits-lute]

She rolled her eyes as he let into her, she was slightly surprised at his attempt to not cackle instantly, but his strained snickering was just as evident and annoying. More annoying than the laughter and the ridicule was his pulse of prickly static levitating her dry and already frizzy strands of hair. She batted at it with both hands, attempting to smooth down her hair after but giving up entirely as he only continues his game when she's done.

"I know that!" She bit back, her sour expression only growing more so as she tried to shake the remaining static from her hair and smoothing it again with her palms. Her explanation garnered a slightly surprised look from him for half a second before his wit took hold again and she glares up and to the side through her cover of oversized clothing. His arm snaked around her shoulders, against the back of the couch and despite her irritation she felt just the little bit safer for it.

She shrugged at his question, not far off base to think something only a miniscule amount of the experience wouldn't make her cower like a frightened puppy but it did all the same.

"Guess it just makes me feel small again. I was barely 50? Not more than 60. I didn't even know what fear was yet." She laughed bitterly at how they had been treated like machines back then, like tools or weapons instead of proper angels. "When it gets like this it just... brings me back I guess. I know it's stupid."

She felt herself get squished into his side, like he was trying to tuck her into and underneath his wing, before fiddling with her makeshift hood and pulling it down over her face. If she'd been seeking asylum under wraps he had made sure she was covered (quite literally) on all fronts. When she heard him say she was staying the night she began to protest until the thunk of something heavy hitting the table and the sound of his boots being tossed off made her pause.

Her face glowed under her little tent, lighting up tendril of hair that he'd also pulled over her face. He had... taken his mask off. Of course he had, this was his home and he wasn't going to wear it all night right? Somehow she'd never considered the current action to be a possibility and what she would do if it arose. Thousands of years as partners and she'd not once seen him take it off, she had no idea what he even looked like.

She was trembling, this time in nervousness, though she was thankful she could pass it off as her previous excuse. She felt unable to move, it was like she was afraid of replicating the fate of Lot's wife if she looked at him, as she weathered her other memories of the storm.

"S..Sir?" She whispered, pulling the corner of his robe over one eye. He was resting his head onto the back of the couch, it was sort of dim in the room, the only light coming from the dwindling trash fire, but she noticed little bits of him at first. The patch of facial hair on his chin, his jawline, his sideburns connecting to the messy mop of brown hair slightly damp from being under his mask all day. Her blush grew and she begged her blood to quit coursing through her veins and into her face so fast. His thick, dark eyebrows shadowed his droopy golden eyes and the prominent bridge of his nose. He was....perfect.

What really caught the majority of her immediate attention though, was some lightly glowing specks across his cheeks. She'd never seen anything like it. She automatically moved, pulling her knees underneath her and twisting to face him as she hoisted herself up and against him to look. She didn't say anything as her face hovered over his, not realizing that their lips were almost touching and he could feel her soft breathing against his skin. She just wanted to investigate the pretty speckle lights on his face like a moth to a lamp. The only thing that she could relate them to were the markings on Sera and Emily's faces but his weren't round and deliberate, they looked like someone sprayed ichor all over him. It was... attractive...

"What are those?"

@danger-tits-lute xxx

His incessant picking at her was driving her mad and she inwardly growled in frustration despite his persistence being as close to a "trust me" as she might ever get, not that she was thinking clearly enough to recognize the earnestness underneath his baiting. He stokes his trash fire with new wrappers and as she yelped in fresh fear she feels his feathers graze her back as they wrap around her and pull her into his side, not without a snarky comment to accompany this strange act of closeness. She shook against him, trembling as another flash of light lit up his bachelor pad before the next crash of cracking sky enabled his smug taunting. “Fine! I’m scared of the stupid thunderstorm.” Her annoyance dwindled with each word she spoke, slowly turning from a tone to shut him up to an admittance that she was, in fact, the most vulnerable she could be in the moment. And she hated it. A scowl formed as she determined she might as well tell him why, as if maybe that would validate away his teasing. She fully knew it wouldn’t of course but at least she could make a case for her childish fear. “When I was a youngling Sera took us to Sodom and Gomorrah to teach us about sinners before Father punished them. I got lost. And left behind. Sera wouldn’t interfere even if it was to save me and I spent the night trying to survive Father’s wrath as he destroyed the cities.” She shook her head as if to clear the memories. “The storm was unimaginable, loud, bright, raining holy fire. Thunderstorms aren’t even a fraction of what it was but it’s close enough.” She couldn’t look at him, this was beyond embarrassing. “So get your haha’s in now because tomorrow this didn’t happen or I’ll make it my life’s mission to poison everything you eat.” She wasn’t sure if her low, empty threat was less threatening or more so with how differently she sounded from her usual ire but her golden face and her miniscule motions to shrink into his safety probably indicated she was only protecting her pride.

Although it was arguably more fun for him the longer she denied the obvious, giving him all manner of means to frame her as some crackwhore which only riled her up more for his own entertainment, the true heart of the matter she vehemently discloses is...still funny as fuck, if he's being honest. It takes a canine dug into his pursed lips to keep from filleting her with a round of obnoxious laughter outright, but from the strained little snorts he emits, it's clear he's struggling to do so despite the sort of divine decorum he's capable of displaying to even the most clownish of hell whores.

"Really? Bruh-" Blocking the twitching, yellow line of his mouth with a fist where he expels more muffled sounds of incredulous mockery, he thanks the roll of booming thunder that covers a half choked cackle. "Hate to be the bearer of bad news, but uh~ you live in the fucking sky." Thunder, lightning and rain were sort of an inevitable and frequent occurrence. He even shoots lightning out of his fingers for fun when he's not vaporizing sinners on extermination day. Speaking of which... he amuses himself by moving the wriggling tips of his talons over her head and letting the static from them levitate strands of silver- a common game that usually ends with a spanked hand once she noticed.

Arguably, it looks like he isn't listening to her explanation while he's flexing his fingers to see how much he can turn strands of her hair into puppet strings, but pauses briefly to swivel the glowing saucers of his gaze down to where she periodically trembles half tangled in the spare robe. A quirked brow later, he remarks. "So that's why you're so salty~?" Fully expecting an elbow for the quip, he offers her a teasing smirk before slipping arm draped across the entirety of the couch's back down to rest over her shoulders through the golden layer of his feathers.

"Psh, figures though. Bitch moves are sort of Sera's specialty." Whether or not the condolence to be found in a mutual aversion to upper management helps, he offers it anyway, though the longer he listens to her reasoning, he can't help but point out- "uhh yeah? The regular ones aren't a fraction of...that. So what's the big deal~?" Because this one with its occasional flickering of light through the curtains was in fact- regular. "This is like...category basic bitch, babe."

Shifting the weight of her more into the crook of his wing with a snort at the threat, he gifts her cheek with several condescending pats. "Suuuure you will. If you're not a puddle by morning, you mean~?" With a tsk, he plants a palm on the top of her head where she's tucked the collar up like a hood and musses the fabric around and then playfully forward to drag both hood and hair down over her face. While she's incapacitated, a curious sound comes from her left like the churning of a jar top followed by the pop of a successful loosening.

"Guess you're stuck here for tonight, then. Lucky you!" The clunk of a helmet hitting the coffee table precedes the casual kicking off of boots as he makes himself comfy, head rolled back and resting on the backboard of the couch while he not so discreetly picks in an ear.

[runningmunson]

Monster in The Stories

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Female!Reader Word Count: 1.1k Summary: Aemond's young children see his eye for the first time scaring them. He becomes insecure about being a monster to them but you reassure him that wont ever be true. Warnings: Swearing, insecurities, angst to fluff

Masterlist

Aemond’s skin bothered him greatly today. His patch rubbed at the scar in all the wrong ways causing him a lot of pain. He chose to ignore his duties for the day and stay inside the safety of his own chambers. It was the only place he truly felt comfortable enough to leave his face bare, hoping the fresh air would help soothe the irritation where his eye had once been. This left him time to think about the little family he had created.

You and Aemond had two beautiful children, the spitting image of their father in every way. Rhaegar was your firstborn son, now the age of three. Then there was Vaera, your eight-month-old daughter. They were his pride and joy. Aemond tried hard not to be absent like his father, instead opting to be a constant presence as much as he could for what the court demanded of him.

Little Rhaegar’s legs tried to keep up with your own as you carried Vaera to your room, unaware that Aemond was already there. When you opened the door, you saw your silver-haired husband sitting at his desk reading. Rhaegar ran off to play, so you sat Vaera on the floor to allow her to crawl and joined your son.

She made her way over to her father, using his leg to stand up. He reached down to pick her up into his arms and smiled at her, “hello, my sweet girl.”

He forgot that he was not wearing the eye patch that he never took off around his children. This was a mistake seeing as the second Vaera looked at her father's face, she let out a piercing scream, not recognizing him, and began to wail.

Rhaegar ran over to see why his sister was crying, and you followed behind. Another mistake because Rhaegar began to cry as well. “Mama, papa hurt!”

You looked over to your husband and gasped, “Aemond, you don’t have your patch on!”

His face dropped. Guilt set in as he looked between the two when he realized he was the cause of their tears. He tried to comfort Vaera, but it only made the screaming worse. The baby was quickly shoved into your arms as he stormed out of the room, roughly shoving the leather over his head.

“Wait! Aemond, I didn’t mean-,” you cried out, but you were met with the door slamming, leaving you to calm your children.

You knew better than to follow him. Aemond often needed time alone to process things, so you tried not to hover and give him space. If he wanted to talk about it you let him come to you.

---

Aemond wasn’t at dinner that evening. Your mother-in-law questioned his absence, but you made an excuse that he wasn’t feeling well. The sun had long set before you made your way back to your shared chambers. The nannies had already taken the children off to bed for the night.

You were surprised to find him in the room, sitting in a chair in front of the fireplace, nursing a cup of wine. His gaze was fixated on the soft orange glow the flames gave off and so deep in thought that he did not hear you come in.

The click of the door shutting made him turn to look at you. His lips were drawn in a steady line, no emotions shown, which made it difficult for you to read him at that moment. You stood in place near the door as you held your breath, not wanting to approach him for fear of possibly angering or upsetting him. A sigh of relief was heard from your mouth when he held his hand out wanting you to join him.

You walked over and he pulled you onto his lap, securing an arm around your waist while the other rested on the arm of the chair. You looked at him, but he refused to meet your gaze, “Are you alright?”

“I am as well as one can be for someone whose children now fear them,” he chuckled bitterly.

“Aemond… they don't fear you,” you sighed, but knew you were not convincing.

He ignored your comment, “I always knew I would receive looks and judgment from the fucks of the court, but I got used to it, growing thick skin. I guess I suppose I never imagined I would go through it again with my own children, knowing that I look like the monster they will hear about in stories. You were there; you saw how terrified they were of me.”

“They’re young, Aemond. They don’t yet understand, and they certainly don’t mean you any harm. They are not used to seeing you uncovered because you have never shown them anything else,” you tried to reason with him, but once your husband thinks something it's hard to undo.

His jaw clenched, “I know, but it does not make it any easier. I never showed them because I did not wish for the reaction I received today.”

“You aren't a monster. And how could our children not learn to love it when I will make sure they will grow up hearing the stories of how their brave father lost his eye to gain the world's largest dragon?” You smiled at him softly. You reached your hand up to his patch, attempting to take it off, but he grabbed your wrist to stop you.

“Will you not grant your loving wife’s wish to see her husband’s face? All of it? I don’t get to see the real you enough,” you raised your eyebrows. He sighed but reluctantly let go.

“You’re infuriating, you know that, right?” He replied. He reached behind his head and pulled it off.

“Ah! There he is, the most handsome man in all the seven kingdoms. Have I ever told you that your scar is quite… alluring?” You beamed with sincerity in your voice.

Aemond rolled his eye and shook his head. He tried to look annoyed, but that didn’t stop the feeling of butterflies in his stomach and the small smile that played on his lips. Despite all these years of knowing each other, you never failed to make him feel loved, valued, and appreciated.

“What is that? Is-is that a smile I see coming from the big scary Aemond? Oh my, whatever will we do?” You giggled.

He stood up, almost making you fall from his lap. You felt arms around your legs. You were suddenly lifted off the ground and thrown over his shoulder letting out a squeal. He walked over to the bed and tossed you, your body landing on the plush bed.

“I don’t enjoy being made fun of,” he smirked, playing along.

“Is that so? And what are you going to do about it?” You smirked.

“Do not worry, my dear. I have all night to punish you.”

[smurphyse]

Monster Killer

Smurph's Masterlist

Part 4 of Mutual Irritation

Warnings: Depictions of domestic violence, fear

Summary: You remember a night when Lauren promised to protect you. Later, you show Spencer the First Editions from your shipment

You winced as Lauren pressed a hand towel wrapped up with ice against your cheek. She made a sympathetic noise while she held you still by your jaw. 

"Where else did he hit you?" she asked quietly. 

Sitting on the edge of the large bathtub in the suite you shared with Finn, you shivered and sniffled in shame. For the last two months you'd been confined to the suite, Finn being your only company, but after this last round of anger he'd had her come patch you up. 

"I'm okay."

"That's not what I asked," Lauren muttered, releasing you. You curled up on the side of the tub, pulling your knees to your chest as you tried to hold back tears while she filled it with bubbles and hot water. 

Since being brought back to Italy six months ago, Finn kept you confined either to the suite or the compound. After a particularly bad night when he decided one of Ian's henchmen was paying too much attention to you, he'd flown off the handle and hurt you pretty badly. 

Lauren was brought in again to clean you up and make sure you weren't in need of a hospital, and since then you were kept to the corridor of rooms, left to wander and gaze longingly out the windows while you tried to keep your sanity intact. 

Tonight Finn came home drunk and probably high on something, the scent of other women's perfume and whatever bar they had gone to wafting from him. He'd found you bored and playing with makeup to pass the time in lieu of reading for once, and completely lost it.

"You plannin' on goin' somewhere, bunny?" he asked dangerously when he caught you perched on the vanity seat fanning out some eyeshadow.

"N-no," you'd insisted, your eyes going wide and fearful, "I was just messing around with it, baby."

His fist had flashed out before you really knew what hit you, and by this point you really should have known better… or at least known it was coming. It rained down again and again as you were pushed into the vanity table, makeup brushes and luxury bottles of foundation and perfume clattering along the glass surface. 

You woke up sometime later in the bed, with Finn standing at the end while Lauren checked you over. His fists were bloody and his knuckles cracked, your face already achingly swollen and sore. 

"One of these days you won't live like this anymore," Lauren whispered, testing the filled water with her hands  and fluffing up the bubbles. "Just hang on for me, okay?"

You watched her warily, unsure and paranoid. Finn told you all the time he was always watching, he even knew you well enough to know what you were thinking. You couldn't trust Lauren… could you?

Was she really going to save you? Or was she just tricking you, getting you to let your guard down so that Finn could play another one of his cruel games?

The heavy clomp of military style boots made you turn to look at the door. Finn leaned against the frame, smiling sheepishly at you and holding a familiar gold box. 

When he smiled like that, it almost, almost made you love him again. He looked like the man you fell in love with when he smiled like that, not the man who beat you unconscious and kept you prisoner in an Italian castle. 

"I'm sorry, bunny, I don't know what came over me," he insisted, but Lauren suddenly was standing in front of you, guarding you with her body. 

Her strong jaw was set in place as she stared down a monster while you watched in awe, your gaze flicking between the two of them as if waiting for a storm to break. 

"She can't take any more anytime soon," Lauren grunted, her voice steady and firm. "You'll kill her if you keep going like this."

"I'd never hurt my bunny, would I, sweet girl?" he asked dangerously, his head cocking to the side. 

A jolt of fear ran through you, and you wanted to cling to the back of Lauren's shirt and let her protect you, but you knew it would just end with more bruises or worse.

You stood shakily and went over to him, rounding Lauren and avoiding her gaze. You smoothed your palms up Finn's chest and gave him a sweet kiss, ignoring the impulse to recoil and hide. 

"Of course you wouldn't. I should have asked permission," you smiled as you pulled away, feeling better when he smiled back.

"I got you something," he said softly. He handed you the box and moved you so he could press his chest to your back, wrapping his arms around you and resting his head on your shoulder. 

You felt Lauren's eyes on you as you shakily opened the box, letting out a gasp of surprise. He always got you presents after he hurt you, sometimes even when he didn't, and they were always luxurious and beautiful. 

Nestled in a bed of satin sat a pair of gold Louboutin stilettos, perfectly made to fit you, all to Finn's specifications for what he wanted you to wear. 

You turned so your cheek pressed against his and smiled, "They're stunning, baby, thank you."

"Anything for my perfect little bunny," he chuckled happily, and he kissed your cheek. Finn looked up at Lauren and glowered, "You can go, I think my girl and I could use a little alone time."

Lauren said nothing, just glared at him as she walked past. She was just at the door when he called, "Shut the door behind you."

Finn led you to the tub without a backward glance, gripping your wrist tightly and tugging you over. You couldn't help but look back at Lauren, who stood watching sadly with her hand on the door handle. 

She sighed and raised her brows, as if to say remember what I said, then shut the door behind her as she left. The latch clicked shut with a thunderous crack, leaving you alone in a room with a monster.

You let him undress you, doing your best to still your shivering and quell the tears that threatened to spill. 

Just hang on for me, okay?

You weren't sure what to think, what to let yourself believe was true. But as Finn lifted you into the tub and cradled you against his large chest, his often harsh hands rubbing soft lines up your bruised and beaten back, you decided if anything, you could do that. 

You could hang on for Lauren. 

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

After an uncomfortable breakfast, you washed the dishes while Spencer sat at the island, glaring at your Manolo Blahniks like they were telling him government secrets. Men just didn’t understand the relationship some women had with their heels, but the way his eyebrows nearly hit his hairline when you’d told him how much they were worth made you smile a bit on the inside.

That was one of the things that had been great about Finn. Before he changed into a monster, he had listened sweetly while you rambled on about the importance of a good heel, the distance from the body of the shoe to the heel itself, the materials and how they made all the difference in comfortability. After that, each pair of shoes he got you was made exactly to your preferences. 

As horrible as Finn became, he listened to your every word, cataloged your interests so that he could use them against you whenever he hurt you. He used them to make you tentatively forgive him, to show your naive heart that he was the only one who knew you like that and the only one who would ever care to.

You were so young. You didn’t realize what he was setting you up for until it was too late.

Spencer followed you quietly as you went back upstairs to change your shoes, opting this time for a pair of black platform booties with a chunky heel in case he decided to become a brick wall for you to run into again.

The doorbell rang as you were descending the staircase, Maurice waving at you through the double doors at the front of the shop. The store didn't open until nine, but he knew you liked to have some time to sift through the new books before unlocking the doors so he came early when you asked.

You went straight for the door with a wave, but Spencer quickly weaved around you and reached it first. 

"What part of I go first, do you not understand?" he asked quietly before he opened the door. You made a face at him and stuck out your tongue and he rolled his eyes, "Real mature."

"Hey Miss Winters," Maurice grinned at you as Spencer opened the door. He stuck out his hand for Spencer, "Maurice, nice to meet you."

Spencer didn't take his hand, instead nodding and saying, "Spencer."

Maurice nodded awkwardly and you shrugged when he caught your eye. Spencer stepped aside so he could roll a dolly inside, the sealed box of first editions resting on top.

"You know where to go, Moe," you smiled, waving toward the back of the shop. You locked the door behind him and he went off toward the study library.

Spencer made sure to walk in front of you as you followed Maurice to the back room, his gaze flicking from Maurice to you out of the corner of his eye. His strong back was held ramrod straight, defensive and imposing as you cautiously followed.

"I didn't know you had a boyfriend, Miss Winters," Maurice said as you entered the library. He unloaded the box onto a table with his stocky arms, turning to you and Spencer and wiping his hands on his work pants. 

"I'm not her boyfriend," Spencer grumbled, but you caught the way he watched the box with hardly disguised excitement. 

"Spencer's a friend from college," you lied smoothly. Back when you first ran from Finn it was hard for you to tell lies, but after eleven years it had become as easy as breathing. "He's getting divorced, so he's sleeping on my couch."

"Oh, tough break, man," Maurice sighed sympathetically, giving Spencer a sad look while he glared at you. "Went through that myself, it's a hard place to be, but once you sign those papers things get a bit easier."

"Uh. Thanks, man," Spencer grunted, looking a bit put out as he rubbed the back of his neck with one hand. 

Maurice held a clipboard out for you, and you signed your fake name in the smooth script of a liar, Elizabeth Winters, and handed it back. You and Spencer led him back out the front with his now empty dolly and waved goodbye. Spencer locked the door and turned on his heel to head back to the restricted area you kept these sorts of things in. 

He strode quickly, his fists clenching and unclenching in his excitement to get back to the box. It made you chuckle quietly, and he turned enough to flash you a look. 

"What?"

"Nothing," you said with a smile. "It's just, you're grumpy magoo about everything but books. Don't you like anything else?"

Spencer entered the restricted area and shrugged, "Books are forever. They don't change."

You laughed, pointing at the box, "I'm about to prove you wrong, Doctor."

"You can call me Spencer, you know," he muttered, shoving his hands in his pockets. He said it cautiously, though, as if you calling him that might bother you. 

You nodded and headed over to one of the bureaus in the corner. The whole room smelled like glue and paper, a byproduct of what it was used for. You pulled open a drawer and lifted a heavy crowbar from inside and went back to the box. 

Spencer held out his hand expectantly for the tool, but you waved it at him, "I can open a box, Spencer."

Spencer scoffed, "You can't even walk through a doorway without breaking a heel."

Your playfulness washed away, the dreaded memory of him ruining one of your favorite pairs of shoes surfacing once more. In lieu of an answer you shoved one end of the crowbar under the lid and pushed it down. The nails cracked the wood as it popped open, and you flashed Spencer a cat's grin. 

"Fuck you," you muttered as you pulled the lid off, careful not to snap one of your nails. 

Spencer leaned over the box to peek inside but you swatted at him. Snatching a pair of latex gloves, you handed them to him and put on a pair for yourself. 

"These books are sent to me every month or so from museums. They're pretty much in tatters but most of them are first editions," you began, deciding to treat him like a novice as you pulled out a book from the top. 

His eyes lit up as he read the title, War and Peace. It was in the original Russian, the leather cover frayed and damaged with water stains. 

"Oh, wow," he marveled, reaching out to touch it. You pulled the book away and glared pointedly at him. 

"The only reason you are here right now is because I can't leave your sight," you grumbled, holding the book protectively. "Normally, I do this alone because these are worth more money than God. You don't touch anything unless I tell you to."

Spencer let out a small whine and watched with a pout as you set the book on the plastic covered surface, but he didn't move to touch it again. He simply plopped down in the chair next to you and watched as you assessed the damage to the volume. 

After a while, he spoke up, leaning on one fist and looking bored out of his mind, "Can you at least tell me what you're looking for?"

You were halfway through your inspection, but you carefully closed the book and went back to the beginning. At least this way you wouldn't be sitting in awkward silence. 

"There are certain things you look for when deciding what parts of a book you can restore. This is the original cover, so I don't want to get rid of it. It needs to be removed from the pages though, there's some mold forming in the center of the binding."

You pointed at where the paper met the hard backing with a gloved hand. A thick green sponge was forming, and he didn't hold back his grimace. 

"I'm going to clean the pages, use some document tape to heal the tears," you said, nearly trailing off. 

His cologne washed over you, a delightful mix of sage and cinnamon musk as he leaned closer to look at what you were talking about. He glanced up at you when you stopped talking, his eyes open and soft for once.

"Uhm," you muttered. You licked your lips and cleared your throat before you began again, "The leather isn't dry rotted, but it's fading. I'll condition it and touch up the dye before I reattach it to the pages."

"How do you take the cover off without ruining the binding?" he asked quietly, watching intently where you pointed. 

"I'll remove the hemp cords under the surface of the leather," you told him, pointing at the risen surface where the cords held the cover sections together. "Hemp is a very old method of binding leather, but it's also why books need rebound. It wears out. I have a woven rayon that I'll use in place to attach the hinge cloth under the leather."

"Amazing," he marveled, looking at the book as if he could see the potential it had. "How did you learn this?"

Spencer leaned back in his chair and caught your eye, for once actually looking happy to be in the same room as you. You closed the book and shrugged. 

"I was going to school for classical literature and one of my professors restored books for the local museum. I showed an aptitude, so he asked if I wanted to go to Italy to learn from his teacher and I said yes."

Spencer's face fell, that familiar grimness settling deep in his frown, "And then you met Finn."

You nodded, shrugging again like it was no big deal, "Ian wanted to restore a copy of the Geneva Bible."

"First published in 1560. It was the first Bible brought to America by the pilgrims," Spencer breathed, smiling to himself. "You got to touch one?"

You smiled, "It was a third edition. I didn't know them, but he'd stolen it from some Protestants and wanted to sell it."

Spencer rolled his eyes, "He was an asshole. Good riddance."

His tone shocked you, his blatant hatred for someone you yourself loathed and feared. You leaned on the table on your elbows and cocked your head, "Did you know him?"

Spencer nodded, "I'm the reason he's dead."

That jolted you from your spot, and you fell against the back of your chair. Your mouth hung open at his casual confession, but he just cocked a brow at you. 

"Does that bother you?"

Slowly, you closed your mouth and shook your head. In fact, it made you feel safer with him. He'd killed a monster… and still he was sitting across from you and breathing like it was nothing. 

You stood and gathered the book before depositing it safely in the wooden crate. Blood rushed to your cheeks as you remembered what Emily told you about Ian Doyle's death. 

He died painfully, and violently, on a tarmac. He's gone, and next I'm going to find Finn and put him down too. 

Another promise, another lie. 

Spencer watched as you put your things away, his brows furrowed and his shoulders stiff. He didn't press you any further, but his ever constant presence was another reminder of how much danger you were in. 

Did Finn know that Spencer was the reason his brother was dead? Had he been watching him the same way he always seemed to be watching you? Lingering in the shadows and waiting to strike… what would Finn do to him if he knew the truth?

It was best you didn't know more about what happened to Ian. At least then you'd have nothing to say when Finn finally caught up to you. 

It didn't matter that Spencer led to Ian Doyle's death, that he'd killed a monster. Not to you, anyways…

If Ian was the boogeyman under the bed, Finn was the one pulling his strings. It took more than a gun and a grudge to kill a god. 

And no matter how hard you'd tried, you couldn't outrun the devil. 

Series Masterlist | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

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Notes: Please let me know what you think! Feedback and comments are what fuel the fire for this story! <3

CM Forever Tag:

@thedancingcostumeyoungadult @muffin-cup @simplyparker @spencerreidsmommy @hotchandspencearedilfs @gspenc @kbakery @nomajdetective @givemeth @hoshihiime @halloween-is-my-nationality @reidselle @thisiscalmanditsdoctorreid @dreatine @thebloomingeagle @fortheloveofwonderland @theforgottenwinter @parkerreidnorth @reidselle @randomhoex @scargarcia-magshotchner @stitchwrites @pygmygoat-bicyclehelmet @cle13 @aysixdy @elhotchner @directioner5life @elhotchner @loveeee2134 @preciousbabypeter @la-stuffs @stories-you-wont-hear @hotchlover @fortheloveofwonderland @lokiandhisdagger @bellanutellababyyy @dark-night-sky-99 @straightforbuckybutgayfornatasha @maltamurdock @charelletjee

[littlekohai77]

Turn offs/Weird and embarrassing moments during intercourse. (Part 1)

(Eleceed multi character headcanon)

🄲🄷🄰🅁🄰🄲🅃🄴🅁🅂: Jiwoo, Wooin, Jisuk, Subin, Sucheon, Kayden, Kartein, Suman, Dark/Amyoung/Louie, Vator, Julian, Arthur, Duke

🅆🄰🅁🄽🄸🄽🄶🅂: 🔞 NSFW, minor dni.

🌸🅹🅸🆆🅾🅾:

He's a total virgin so when y'all are doing it for the first time, it's a given that he doesn't know what to do. Which can be a turn off for some people but fear not, this baby is a fast learner.

If you're someone who's a sub and has difficulty with doming then doing it with him is gonna be tough. He is also a sub. If you still dom him, he'll go along with it but he no matter how much he tries to mask it.. .. He won't really be into it and will eventually tell you to stop because he knows your pushing yourself to top.

During the times he pushes himself to top, he quickly gives up because both you and him are cringing at his fruitless attempts at dirty talk.

The only way I can see him doming is through sex fueled by jealousy or anger. Which is a once in a blood moon occurrence.

He also cums way too fast. So when he is trying to satisfy you, he quite literally overstimulates himself.

🍜🆆🅾🅾🅸🅽:

He was really stiff during your first time. But worry not, he eased up at the end.

He is into food play and.. .. . As much as I don't wanna think about it.. . It's very likely that he has attempted to put jajangmyeon on you at least once. You obviously declined cause that shit would burn your 😺/🍆.

💨🅹🅸🆂🆄🅺:

He cannot put on a condom for the life of him. You'll be laying there all ready to be ravaged and this mofo will be sitting on the edge of the bed, cursing out the condom, the company who made them and their great ancestors. You'll eventually have to get up and help him. He'll be embarrassed and cranky about it for a week.

Queen Jiyoung or Inhyuk walked in on y'all.

If it was Jiyoung then she'd blush, storm out and order Inhyuk to do what needs to be done.

Which is Inhyuk barging in and lecturing y'all about doing it in more private spaces instead of the staff and/or storage rooms in Shinwa. Also makes sure y'all are using a condom, he doesn't want another Jisuk jumping around, one is tough to handle already.

He says all of this while Jisuk is still inside you and thrusting.

❄️🆂🆄🅱🅸🅽:

Accidentally uses her powers and you get ice burns. She obviously stops immediately and patches you up while apologizing profusely. Is afraid of doing it with you ever since and avoids doing it with you for weeks in fear of hurting you again.

Goes too far with the teasing.

If you too have a lip piercing than this has at least happened once or twice, y'all piercings get tangled or stuck together. How does it happen? Idk it just happens.

Y'all are both then just sitting there, lips attached to one another. And don't even get me started on how much it hurts if one of y'all tries to move away.

💜🆂🆄🅲🅷🅴🅾🅽:

Y'all idk honesty, I find this man so smexy that I can't figure out what might be a turn off.

He could be a little too harsh with his words sometimes.. . .. . If he's angry. But that means he's gonna pound you extra hard.

Maybe his pace becomes a little too much?

Idk.

Maybe he accidentally doesn't hear when you say the safe word.

One thing for sure is that if either Suman, Supil or Dusik walks in on y'all (which is very unlikely to happen since y'all fuck only in your bedrooms) he won't fuck you for a whole month. Yeah, that's how embarrassed he is.

⚡🅺🅰🆈🅳🅴🅽:

THIS MAN! THIS MAAAANNN!

He uses his powers a tiny bit to stimulate you and when he really get into it there are a few times where he accidentally shocks you a bit too much and it hurts.

If you are a powerful awakened then he tells you to deal with it. (This bitch)

I don't wanna think about it but........ Him transforming back to peak feline obesity while y'all are still doing it......... This could happen if he gets too horny and impatient, not wanting to wait until he has figured out his transformation powers. He will give you the cold shoulder for a month after this.

🌸 💊 🅺🅰🆁🆃🅴🅸🅽:

He calls all the parts by their respective names.

He moans like, "Ah~your vulva feels so good~"

"Oh~you like it when I rub your labia minora~?"

"Your clitoris glands are throbbing~"

When you tell him to just call them your vagina he straight up declines saying, "It's like calling your head, your neck."

He also declines to call your parts pussy because that's too vulgar and inaccurate for him.

But hey~at least he's a god at aftercare unlikely a certain somebody. Downside being that he expects you to give aftercare most of the time.

💜🆂🆄🅼🅰🅽:

This man is perfect period

Baby or current timeline Sucheon walking in on y'all.

Or just your children walking in on you two.

Him getting calls from work while y'all are doing it.

Him having to get up and do work shit in the middle of sexy time.

🌑🌃🅳🅰🆁🅺/🅰🅼🆈🅾🆄🅽🅶/🅻🅾🆄🅸🅴:

He's really stiff when doing it, like a dead fish.

No moans, no sounds.

Don't get him wrong, it's not like he doesn't feel good, he's just really shy.

Also his pace can be overwhelming sometimes.

💎🆅🅰🆃🅾🆁:

THIS BITCH MOANS HIS OWN NAME!!

NO WONDER ALL OF YOUR LOVE JUICES EVAPORATE.

💍🅹🆄🅻🅸🅰🅽:

Accidentally moans Jiyoung's name instead of yours.

I don't think I need to elaborate.

💜💙 🅰🆁🆃🅷🆄🆁/🅰🆂🅷🅴🆁:

It's his weird fetishization of hands.... And no I will not be explaining why I think so...

He gets mad if you pull his hair, please don't do it. He puts a lot of time and effort into styling his hair.

Or

He gets weirdly excited when you pull his hair. You expect him to slap your hand away but it never comes..

It's weird because this phenomenon happens regularly. One time he likes it, the other time he doesn't. There isn't even a specific pattern for this, you have to gamble it. The safest option is to not pull his hair at all.

❤💔🅳🆄🅺🅴:

His bites can hurt a lot and sometimes draw blood.

If you don't have a power play kink and/or humiliation kink then I'm sorry but...... Those are things he's really into. (I do not make the rules)

He's really competitive and territorial, so if he gets jealous of someone 70% of his anger is gonna be thrown your way.

Which means a shit ton of angery/jealousy sex. Which can be a bit too much sometimes. And there are times when he doesn't stop even if you tell him to. Sometimes he can take things a bit too far when blinded by rage.

[bloodofthefates]

Cassian’s calloused palm salves something deep inside of her, the breadth of his entire hand still caked in the same blood that coats her cheek as he tethers himself to her in a more visceral way than barred between layers of armor. In the twisting and dangerous tides of her emotions, he is her mooring point. In the onslaught of feeling so much, when she is so overwhelmed and out of control he is always there to brave the storm alongside her and protect her as equally with his heart as he would with his life and use of his body to shield her should she need it. At this moment, Nesta has never understood the expression used by others when they speak of complementary halves of wholes, as if some piece or part of them could survive, existing at a bare minimum. Cassian has become all of her, the acceptance of the best and worst of her and loving her unconditionally in spite of it all. It’s a love she fears she’ll never deserve, but it gives her a reason to fight to earn it everyday from the moment she opens her eyes to find him asleep next to her to the second she closes them each night protected and safe in his embrace. The threads of their bond tighten within her chest, the strings growing taut and coiling to keep her heart as his captive as he tries to ground her and reel her back into him. Nesta has half a mind to smack him for his ill-timed humor if she wasn’t already so worried about the severity of injuries, but deep down she knows his pained forced smiles and attempts at lightening the mood are for her benefit and the others still surrounding them but giving them a wide berth. The sternness of her expression relays her lack of amusement at the poor patch job that’s been performed on her mate even if she’s grateful it managed to spare his life. “I don’t want to ever see what is worse than this." Though they both knew she wasn't talking about his visible wounds directly.          “You won’t live for much longer if you don’t get to it soldier.” She huffed, feigning her usual blustery coldness while reaching up with one hand to wipe away tears from her face and the other never once leaving his person. “Madja won’t be pleased with this poor excuse of a hack job, I should hunt down the person responsible myself for providing such poor care to a commanding General.” She sneered, her protectiveness taking on the notes of a much more familiar Nesta that earned a few sniffling chuckles from around the room. With his forehead pressed against hers, she feels his warmth radiating through her body and through the bond driving home his emphasis. He is alive. He is here. He is hers.  His physical presence is enough to walk her back down from the ledge of combustion, but the more primal instincts of her mating bond have yet to subside. Nesta detects fleeting movement from her periphery, merely one of the members of the inner circle and Cassian’s family awaiting their turn at a reunion shifting too soon but her hackles raise instantly followed by a snarl warning off anyone daring to get too close, ready to fight and kill anything that dared to touch him except her.

__________✦    HE FEELS HER TEARS AGAINST HIS NECK, HIS GRIME-COVERED SKIN. he holds her in the storm, lets her feel every emotion raging through her. for when she arises again, he will still be standing before her. against his ribcage, he swears he feels those gold threads of destiny twine tighter around their hearts && glow in the wake of their reunion. they lead the way home. for that is what she is, what she has become. he is bastard-born, owed nothing but dust && sweat for the blood in his veins, what he lacks in status, in belonging, he makes up for with easy smiles, sometimes ill-advised humor. she sees through it all, lays him back to his foundation. she is everything he has ever dreamed off && so he promises to be what she needs, when she needs it. promises her the world.

✦__________    SO MANY PROMISES MADE. never out of blind devotion. he is no courtier, flowery words stumble over a general's tongue. he once promised her he'd find her in this life or the next, that death itself could not part them. he promised her the two of them, no one else, ruined for others as they were in the wake of love-borne need. he meant every word, every syllable. he would crawl out of his own grave on hands && knees to find his way back into her embrace. he knows his family watches from afar, but he is in no hurry to end this moment. his hand splays across her back, runs its way up && down her spine. half in comfort, half to remind himself that he is here, she is real && in his arms unharmed from the recent battle.

__________✦    WANDERING HAND COMES TO CUP HER CHEEK AS SHE PULLS AWAY TO ASSESS. reality setting in too quickly as the pain roars back in his ears. a sheepish smile && brave face paint themselves across his scarred face as he eyes the new gaping hole in his armor, stained red with a growing splotch against his bandages. ❛    i've had worse.   ❜ he has, but it doesn't dull the ache, doesn't make him wish he could take away her concern with a kiss or a teasing grin. ❛    the stitches will need to be redone && disinfected, but i'll live.   ❜ i'll live, nes. an emphasis on his final words as he brings his forehead to hers. breathing in her presence, finding peace where he can.

[jjtheresidentbaby]

Can you do a little!JJ and CG!Derek one shot?

Storms | Jennifer Jareau x Derek Morgan x Spencer Reid

(This is that storm one-shot I was talking abt @madgaymax )

genre: hurt/comfort, angst

a/n: This was originally supposed to be a one shot of its own but then I got this request and decided to use it, this also has Spencer and Penelope in it instead of just Derek and Jj

warnings: crying, panic attacks, thunderstorms, talk of a case (a teenager is missing but not described in detail)

~

Jj knew she needed to find Morgan quickly, but she couldn't really do that when her and Spencer are stranded on the side of the road because of a storm. It's loud crashing thunder and bright bolts of lightning has Jj close to tears.

She sniffles as she shifts to hug her knees up to her chest in the back of the SUV. She was driving but Reid suggested they pull over to be safe, giving Jj the opportunity to climb herself into the back seat away from the larger window.

"Jj you okay?" Spencer twists himself where he's still sat in the passenger seat. She tries to think of what to say but all that comes out is a whimper. She wants Derek or Garcia, she needs them, she's little and she needs her caregivers so bad it hurts.

"Hey, hey, what's wrong?" Spencer's clambering to get to the back as Jj shifts herself more into the seat she's squished against.

"Jj please talk to me, I've never seen you so upset over a storm." That’s because she can almost always predict it and prepare herself for what's to come.

Only Today was spontaneous and to make it worse Jj was already stressed, the case is almost over but there's a teenager missing which hits close to Jj's heart. She remembers being a teenager and bordering on being reckless during weekends, staying out past curfew, sneaking into movies with her friend, talking to boys, all the things this teenager was out doing the Saturday she went missing.

But she also remembers being petrified of thunderstorms as a teenager and how she had begged to grow out of it. To be "mature" to stop "acting like a little kid" which in the long run did way more harm than good as every storm seems a thousand times worse to her little brain. They always feel like the end of the world unless Derek or Garcia are there to cradle her into their chests like they do without fail every time it happens when they're home.

Jj longs to be at their shared house. The one with the three bedrooms even if they almost always end up asleep in the living room together or cuddled into Morgan's bed. She cries even harder at the thought of having his strong protective arms wrapped around her while Penelope whispers sweet things only she could ever make sound so loving.

"Jj tell me how to help, how do I help? I think you're having a panic attack." Reid puts a hand hesitantly on her knee but Jj quickly extends her hand to grasp at the touch. She needs something to ground her.

"Morgan! I want Derek! Get- get Derek!" Penelope is all the way in Virginia and being in Texas does no good in the physical touch element that Jj craves. But Derek's at the station with the rest of the team like normal. All the patrol men should be out right now, searching for their unsub, not in the station and that's about the only plus side to this case.

"Okay, okay, I'll call Morgan." Reid fumbles with his phone before placing it beside Jj.

"Hey Reid where are you guys-?" He can't get the words out as Jj's sobbing even louder. His voice brings a huge wave of comfort yet makes her heart ache more, she wants him here, in person, with her.

"Jj? Are you okay? Are you hurt?" He questions rapid fire.

"The- the storm! Der the storms so bad! I- I need you-!" The tears flood heavily when the thunder shakes the car and her grip tightens over Spencer's hand.

"Oh sweetheart, shhh, shhh, it's okay. Im right here. I'll patch in Penny hold on." Jj nods even if Derek can't see it and a few seconds go by before Garcia gives a witty greeting that's cut off by Derek explaining what's going on.

"Oh sugar is the storm bad over there?" Jj shifts to be sat beside Reid with her body slumping into his.

"I want- wanna go home. I want you and Morgan." Jj's chin trembles when she glances through the windshield at the lighting cracking.

"I know sweet girl but the case is almost over, you guys will be home in no time. Do you think Spence can drive you guys back to the station? It's not storming as bad over there." Penny suggests and Reid waits for Jj to nod before he's getting up to the drivers seat and leaving the phone with the girl.

"You gonna be waitin' when I get there?" Jj cradles the phone up to her ear while trying to ease her breathing as Reid inches the car into the road.

"I will be honey and Penny is right here on the phone. Tech genius will make sure the signal won't get lost." Derek chuckles at his own joke and Jj puffs air out of her nose in response, she knows he's right and Garcia would never let their signal be lost in a time like this, she just wishes she could have Penelope here in real life instead.

"I know this is really tough without us both there baby but I'll be waiting when you guys get home." Penelope's sweet voice assures and Jj can almost picture the look on her face. The soft tilt of her lips into a smile, her big brown eyes blinking tenderly, she'd probably put a hand on Jj's cheek to make sure she understood just how much Penelope cared for her. Jj might already know how deeply she's loved by both Morgan and Garcia, she's never against being reminded.

"Hey Jj we're here, we can go see Derek." Spencer kills the engine and while Jj was about to jump up and go running out of the car she stopped- it's not nearly as loud or lightning here but it's pouring. Hard and big raindrops fall from the sky as fast as they can it seems.

"I'll be in our room waiting." Derek pulls Jj from her thoughts and she nods. All she has to do is get to Derek then it'll all be okay.

"Here let me take the phone then we can go together." Spencer takes his phone to slip into his bag before he's climbing out of the car to get Jj's car door open. She's reluctant about actually exiting but takes the hand Reid offers up as he tugs her out of the car to rush through the parking lot.

Jj's shaking as she sprints through the rain, promptly getting soaked, fresh tears start to run down her already blotchy cheeks, her clothes stick uncomfortably to her skin once her and Spencer burst through the door. None of that matters when Jj lays her eyes on Derek and those few tears turn into wailing. Morgan quickly scoops the girl up onto his hip and she clings on harder than she ever has.

"Shhh, it's okay, I have you. It's okay Jj." Her hands bawl fists of Derek's shirt while she stuffs her face into the side of Morgan's neck. He's warm, hot even, a much better temperature to the shivering running down Jj's bones from the rain and Ac the prescient has blowing.

"Honey breathe, you're okay, it's alright. I'm right here love." Derek starts to bounce the girl on his hip as he walks them to one of the closed off rooms. A place usually used to talk to parents of victims but gives them a couch to rest on for a moment or two.

~

"You feel better?" Derek's hand cards through Jj's hair while she sits up in his lap and lets her head lay against his shoulder with a nod. The rain is almost stopped, just light pitter pattering on the roof instead of the heavy thudding it was.

"Okay sweet girl, you think we can talk to Spencer? He's a bit confused." She nods again. Reid will understand, he'll know all about age regression from the endless facts he has stored away, she also knows he's dealt with it first hand from a case they had when he had first started on the team.

"You guys okay? Better?" Spencer enters hesitantly but sits himself on the chair across from the couch Morgan and Jj are resided on.

"Yeah we are Reid, thanks for asking. We just um- wanted to talk to you." Jj peaks her head up to tilt it to the side and look at Spencer. He smiles softly when he notices the motion.

"Talking would be nice, I'm a bit lost." Derek gives a light chuckle along side Reid's own which calms Jj a bit more for the rest of this conversation. Derek doesn't seem nervous so she shouldn't be either.

“Do you know what a little is?” Derek questions and Jj instantly hides her face back into his neck in embarrassment. Derek and Spencer talk for a few moments that Jj tunes out, she doesn’t want to hear if Reid has a bad reaction or starts to belittle her.

“Sweet girl, Spencer wants to talk to you.” Jj nods to Derek as his hand brushes the hairs off her forehead when she leans back. Spencer’s moved to be beside the pair on the couch and he has a wide grin on his face.

“Hi Jj, I just wanted to say that I will always be someone you can come to when you’re little and upset, or just little in general, I’ll always try to help. You think you can do that?” Reid smiles over to Morgan watching Jj give a hum of understanding.

“Brother Spencer.”

[letarasstuff]

Ranting

(A/N): This was requested by an anon, I hope you like it :)

Summary: In the middle of midterms, Spencer's daughter has enough and for the first time in her life, she rants to the team

Warnings: one swear word, school, school stress, mental breakdown, shitty friends, a bit of angst (but there is fluff to balance that out), weird grammatical sentences that are according to google correct

Wordcount: 2.3k

✨Masterlist✨ _____________________________ As a teenager, Spencer was pretty closed off. But this had several reasons, like being a child (or moreover a teen prodigy) at college and getting his first Ph.D, or that he hadn’t had a safety net of people he could have gone to. So as he became a father himself, he tried everything possible to assure his own daughter that her feelings and thoughts are always welcome and valid.

Unfortunately (Y/N) herself has developed the same habit starting high school and ever since Spencer can’t do anything to get her to open up to him. It’s not like they don’t have a good relationship, they have one of the strongest father-daughter bonds the BAU has ever witnessed. The girl simply has other ways to cope with her feelings and how to act them out in the safety of her own four walls. Her father learned to accept it, knowing that he can’t and won’t force her to talk to him.

So what follows now not only shocked Spencer. But also his work family.

It’s the time every teen in high school dreads: Midterms.

A word a teacher can mutter and a shiver goes through the rows of students in the classroom. Or at least it feels like it to (Y/N). She takes her school work very seriously. In her mind every single grade determines her future.

The rational part in her knows that the grades in her sophomore year doesn’t matter. That they are even long forgotten when she graduates. There is just so much pressure on her. But it isn’t coming from her father.

Spencer is pretty laid-back regarding school. He knows his daughter is trying her best and that it’s just the tenth grade and not the end of the world. School is not everything life has to offer, especially he has to know it as a scholar and profiler flying through the country in a jet back and forth.

It’s (Y/N)’s classmates, who pressure her to get good grades.

“We depend on you and your notes”, Tyler exclaims as he jogs next to her through the busy hallway. “Ty, I know. But I don’t have the time to get them done for all of you to understand by tomorrow. They are still a mess that only I know to see through. I still have to finish my history project and I go to my Dad’s work this afternoon, which means I won’t get much done and I still have to do the homework I got today before sorting my notes for the test in two days.”

At her locker, the boy still doesn’t let go of the subject. “Do you want to say that our grades don’t matter as much as yours? Because this would be a true selfish statement.” Maybe it is the lack of sleep, because she pulled three all-nighters in two weeks, or the fact that she is slowly getting fed up being treated like an unpaid private teacher, but (Y/N) can’t stop her sassy answer. “Tyler, you wouldn't even know how to tell apart your ass from your head if it weren’t for me and my help in biology. You wouldn’t even know how to spell selfish if I didn’t let you copy my answers in spelling tests in elementary school.”

Done with the day and her friend’s shit, she slams the door of her locker shut and leaves a flabbergasted boy behind. Half an hour later the teenager enters the bullpen with her visitor badge clipped to the pocket of her sweater.

On the way there she was fuming. The audacity of her friends. It’s not only Tyler, who tried to get her notes of a unit, she was the only one listening, even though the teacher said loud and clear that this will be important for midterms. A few other friends out of the group she usually hangs out with texted her the same question of when her notes will be given to them. Understandably, (Y/N) comes into the office in the worst mood anyone from the team ever saw, including her own father.

“Hey Sweetheart”, he tries to greet her with a hug. Even though both of them are not big on touch, they are extra affectionate with people they are close to.

To everybody’s surprise, the girl takes a step back, effectively avoiding his open arms. “Hey”, she grumbles out before taking a seat in the chair already waiting for her. Nobody is allowed to sit in this one, except for her. Not even Derek has ever put his butt on this one, knowing the sacredness of it.

Without sparing anyone another glance, (Y/N) gets the needed stuff for that history project out and continues working on it. The team resorts to throwing a questiongly look to Spencer, who shrugs his shoulders with a look of despair. So everyone resumes their work without even daring to say a word.

The general silence is occasionally broken by an unnerved sigh leaving the teenager’s lips. “Is the conference room occupied?” She asks, her voice clearly showing how annoyed she is. Her father shakes his head. “No, not that I know of. Do you need help with your school work?” This is obviously the wrong thing to say. “Do I look like a baby? I don’t need anyone to help with that, I have been going to school for ten years now, I think I can handle this project as perfectly fine as I did since day one. It’s just your keyboard typing that will be the reason for my first grey hairs if I don’t get out of here soon.”

Quickly (Y/N) gathers her stuff and storms off into the conference room. Immediately the team crowds her father’s desk. “What happened?” “Who hurt her?” “Go, talk to her!”

“Guys, I don’t know what’s going on. I’m at the same loss as all of you. The only thing I know is that (Y/N) is under pressure, because it’s midterms. But judging by the way she reacted, I don’t want to go near her. It’s safer to try to defuse a bomb than talk to her in that mood. Last time I saw something similar, her favorite show was declared finished, got a revival and then didn’t get one and nobody mentioned it again. She was so mad, I think it took three years of her life.” A silence of uncertainty spreads through the room.

“What about we give her some room until she calms down?” JJ suggests, being unsure herself how to deal with a teenage girl. But the rest agrees and goes back to filling out their paperwork.

This continues for about 20 minutes, till a loud bang and a frustrated scream is heard followed by “DON’T THEY WANT TO GET IT OR ARE THEY JUST STUPID?!” Alerted by that, seven people (yes, even Dave and Aaron leave their offices, while Penelope was already in the bullpen) storm into the round table room only to see a more than outraged (Y/N).

“Sweetheart”, Spencer speaks to her in the gentlest voice they ever heard from him and slowly moves towards his daughter, “What’s going on?”

Her response is delayed by several deep breaths she has to take in order to be able to talk without seething. “ALL OF MY SO CALLED FRIENDS ARE ASKING ME FOR MY NOTES, like do I look like a personal tutor? And when I tell them that I got a life, a life outside of school and grades, because otherwise I go completely bananas, just like all of you say, they get mad. Now they act like I’m the most selfish person in the whole world. I’m so done, can’t they understand that they are old enough to take care of their own stuff? I’m not responsible for them, their grades or anything regarding their lives. Otherwise I would be the mother of at least four toddlers and one baby and at the age of sixteen I’m not ready for that kind of responsibility. I know friends are there for eachother, and I really don’t mind helping them from time to time. But what they are doing is terror. Terror.

“Oh and don’t get me started on their tormention if I get something lower than an A-. Then they suddenly transform into geniuses, like they suddenly know everything possible. Of course, I’m the dumb one. I should have studied more.

“I am under an insane amount of pressure, because I know they rely on me, but enough is enough. I tell them that if anyone asks me for anything school related again and they act like I owe them an answer, I’ll cut off all ties to all of them. What am I, a roboter just there for their needs, without some of my own?”

After her long rant, (Y/N) takes a couple more breaths. It’s pretty much the only sound right now, because the team is stunned. None of them heard her talking, no ranting, like that. Not even her Spencer has seen her like that.

Realizing what she just said, the teenager fidgets nervously with her hands. “I’m, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to, you know, blow up like that. I, I really don’t know where this came from.” Nervously she scratches the back of her head. It really wasn’t her intention to let it out like that. Her plan was just to come home tonight and deal in the confinement of her own four walls with all of her feelings. It’s easier to be honest to yourself when you are alone than having an audience watching you losing it.

Suddenly (Y/N) finds herself engulfed in a massive bear hug. “Oh, my sweet sweet summerchild. You needed to rant to us and I’m so happy you did. Even though your uhm, friends, sound like big douchebags, we can help you sort something out”, Penelope tells her while keeping her arms around the teen.

“Just like lil mama said, we are here for you, Baby Reid. Don’t ever be afraid to tell us something, may it even be as small as you having stubbed your toe.” Morgan ruffles her hair and gives her a reassuring smile.

Just like them everybody shows her their support, be it encouraging words or affectionately gestures. Rossi invites her to a calm and quiet dinner at his mansion, cooking class included. Hotch assures her that she will get through this rough patch, with or without these fake people. JJ suggests (Y/N) comes over to her home and she can participate in a family game night at their home.

When it’s Emily’s turn, she makes sure to get her message loud and clear by looking the teen in the eyes (not as deep as it sounds, because some people make an intense stare really uncomfortable): “If those kids give you a hard time again, tell me. I’ll pay them a visit in classic protective godmother fashion, because nobody traits MY godchild like this. Just give me their names and I’ll handle the rest.” Obviously she doesn’t say this aloud in front of everyone, else Hotch will have her head, knowing she goes through with her threats. Instead she whispers it into the teen’s ear. Still, it makes (Y/N) smile, having such a strong support net.

Sensing the family’s need for time of their own to talk about the whole situation, the team leaves the room. Spencer gestures to her to take a seat after moving two chairs opposite each other. He wants her not to feel trapped.

“Do you still want to talk about it? It doesn’t have to be now, we can do it tonight, tomorrow, in a week or in a month. Just, please don’t shut me out. I know it’s difficult to be a teenager, especially in times like these. But it won’t do you any good keeping all of this for yourself. Today you took it out through anger. How will it look next time?

I don’t want to pressure you into talking. We don’t need to. We can find other coping mechanisms. We can try and reduce your stress. Anything. But we both know that this is not the right way.” While speaking, he takes his daughter’s hand, making her look up to him.

(Y/N) nods. Her eyes fill with tears. “I just can’t keep going like this.” She whispers, feeling all the stress, pressure and the intensity of the last few weeks crashing down on her. Quickly Spencer gathers her in his arms, letting her cry in his embrace.

After calming down, she looks up to her father with bloodshot eyes. “We can talk tonight. But I need you to do me a favor.” “Anything”, he assures her, stroking a hand along her back. “I, uhm, I need a new phone. I may or may not have thrown mine against the wall after getting a text from Tyler.”

Spencer looks at the crooked cell laying on the floor, the screen cracked. “I think we can get that sorted”, he tells her with a smile and gives her a kiss on the forehead.

The two of them leave the office earlier, having many things to talk about and many problems to solve. But with the help of her family (Y/N) gets through this, a time where people unfortunately only like her for her smarts and not being herself.

Taglist:

All works:

@dindjarinsspouse @big-galaxy-chaos @jswessie187 @kneelforloki

Criminal Minds:

@averyhotchner @mggsprettygirl @herecomesthewriterwitch @ash19871962 @ellyhotchner

[http-anti]

Star gasped as the stranger turned into a massive wolf, her heart leaping into her throat. As Jackie moved to sit in front of her, she held onto him like her life depended on it. She didn't want him to get hurt, either! They were both already so weak...

Just as Anti was about to lunge, Henrik stepped between him and his target. He was growling menacingly but not at his husband, the interruption making him let out a huff.

"Henrik, get out of the way. Those two are fuckin' angels, and that one there is the asshole who tortured me!" Anti exclaimed, attempting to maneuver around his husband. He was so focused on the memories he had of them that he didn't notice their lack of wings and grace. Ugear was quick to step in the way as well, blocking the two fallen off completely. "Like hell I'm jus' gonna sit there an' let these two sit in my fuckin' house, especially with you two!'

"Anti, that's enough. It's like Henrik said, he just finished patching them up. You aren't making a mess in here. These are friends, not foe. Whatever the issue is, it can be addressed without violence," Ugear tried to persuade.

"Friends!? Are you fuckin'- did you not hear what I just said!? He fuckin' tortured me! I know you're a fallen but what the fuck? I thought you hated angels! Are you seriously gonna pick their side right now?" Anti asked incredulously, having a hard time believing what he was being told. He shifted back, knowing he wasn't about to try and fight Ugear to get to the other two.

"Those were orders, Anti, it's not that simple-" Ugear attempted to explain.

"It's always orders, Ugear! I get ordered to go into sessions all the fuckin' time, but I guess you just like to dismiss me bein' tortured, huh? Some fuckin' father you are!" Anti spat out without thinking in his fit of rage before turning on his heels and storming out of the room.

"Orusa!" Ugear called out after him, trying to ignore the pain the words left sitting in his chest. It was no use, Anti wasn't listening and he was too far in his anger to try and reason with.

Falling For You [ x ]

@cute-and-undead

It wasn't unusual for Star to stop by and see Jackie once she knew it was about the time that he would be off duty. She spent a lot of her time down in the human world, looking over her assigned children over the course of the years, while he spent his up in Heaven. She was the lowest ranked angel, a guardian that watched over the lives of the innocent and tried to guide them along their chosen path. Star involved herself as little as possible, but a lot of her time was spent watching humans and seeing how they evolved. Since Jackie didn't get the opportunity to spend time down there, she often shared the things she learned with him.

This time, Star had a new discovery to share with Jackie, and she was excited about it. So she made her way back up to the gates of the place where her kind stayed, dress flowing as she took rapid steps toward the area Jackie was assigned to.

Angels followed a very strict code and very few ever strayed from it. Those who did were instantly met with consequences they would never forget, having their grace stripped away and their wings ripped from their backs. Those frightening threats were the reason Star kept a very big secret, guarding it with her life.

Feelings. For Jackie, specifically.

Not only was she an angel who was not meant to feel, but he was technically her superior. He was a protector who was very loyal to his kind, following the rules perfectly. If he ever found out about how she felt... she didn't know what would happen.

So instead, Star kept things to herself, deciding to just enjoy this sort of friendship they had and telling herself that it was enough. As long as she had him in her life, she could be satisfied.