#I once thought things would never be this good

[moonstruckme]

hi Mae could do a reader with Spencer (or any boy u want!) where she's feeling super nauseous and throwing up a lot and trying to hide it from him like may be it's early on and she feels embarassed? I went out to brunch with a friend and idk what happened but I think I got food poisoning I've already thrown up twice and still feel so so sick

Ugh food poisoning is the worst, but I hope you're over it now lovely! Thanks for requesting <3

cw: vomitting, nausea

Spencer Reid x fem!reader ♡ 1.4k words

Part of you thinks you should cancel. You’re not a very good time right now, nauseated and shaking a little from the exertion of walking from your car to the host’s stand. Spencer deserves a date that doesn’t have to scope out bathrooms like escape routes the moment she enters the restaurant. But oh, he’d been so sweet in asking you. All soft eyes and gentle voice, and he’d sent you the menu to make sure you found something you liked before he made the reservation. You know it can’t have been easy to get, at a nice place like this on a Saturday night. Really, at the end of the day, there is simply no world where you cancel on Spencer. 

You paste on a smile for the hostess, wondering if she’d find it odd if you leaned on her stand for support just for a moment. “Hi,” you say. “Um, I’m meeting someone, I think he’s already…” 

A touch at your elbow prompts you to turn. 

“Hi,” Spencer says. 

You go a bit breathless at the sight of him. Spencer in a suit. His hair still messy as if he ran his hands through it after leaving home, the top button of his shirt open like he had it done up all the way and then felt too constricted. He looks handsome and endearing and nice. Your sundress and half sweated-through makeup feel suddenly, hopelessly inadequate. 

“Hi,” you say back. “Sorry, I thought you’d already be sitting down.” 

“I wanted to wait for you,” he replies simply. He turns to the hostess. “For Reid?” 

As she walks you to your table, it dawns on you what an idiot you are. Possibly the only thing you could do to Spencer that would be worse than cancelling on him would be to show up as you are now. Listless and unprepared for conversation. You’re going to have to order either the smallest thing on the menu or nothing at all, and he’s going to think you don’t want to be here with him. And for yourself, you want to experience this—a first date, with Spencer, and quite possibly your only date—with all the appropriate butterflies and nervousness. Instead, you just feel…tired. And sick. 

“This is really nice,” you say as you sit down. 

“Yeah?” Spencer reaches for the carafe in the center of the table, pouring water into your glass and then his own. “I’m glad you think so. I’ve only been here once, but I thought it was good then, so. I hope you like the food.” 

He spills a little bit of water on the tablecloth, missing his glass. Winces as sharply as if he’d shattered it. Oh god; he’s nervous. You’re going to so disappoint him. 

“Sorry I was late.” You take your water, the cool glass against your hand a relief. “I was…” Well, you were vomiting in your bathroom. “I got a bit tied up on my way out.” 

“That’s okay,” he says easily. “You look really beautiful.” 

You wish you could tell yourself he was only a good liar. You feel clammy, and disgusting, and entirely undeserving of sitting across from him, but it’s all earnestness in Spencer’s puppy brown eyes. 

“Thank you.” Your voice has gone soft with sincerity. “You look very handsome, too. I’ve never…I don’t think I’ve seen you in a suit.”

Spencer smiles, bashful. “I should probably wear them more for work. Most of my team does.” 

“I like what you wear,” you say. “It suits you. Very professor-y.” 

Drinking water was a bad idea. You’ve been too greedy for the cool feel of it going down your torn-up throat; your glass is nearly empty already, and already it wants back up. 

“It would probably be more professional if I dressed like the others, though.” He gives a one-shouldered shrug. Adorable. “I am a professor, but I’m also a profiler, so…” Spencer’s smile slips when you swallow against the nausea tightening your throat. “Are you okay?” 

You press your lips into a smile. “Yeah, sorry. I don’t think there’s anything unprofessional about your regular clothes. I like your cardigans.” 

“They’re not…they’re not unprofessional, I guess, but I…” You can see Spencer’s brain working, his eyes moving over your face as you struggle to appear attentive. “Sorry, are you sure you’re okay? You look uncomfortable.” 

You could almost laugh, if you weren’t feeling so awful. Trust Spencer to tell it like it is. 

“I’m okay,” you say. “Sorry, I’m not feeling great, but I’m fine.” 

“You’re not?” Spencer looks troubled. Sad, puppy brown eyes. 

Oh, and there are the nerves you’d been missing. Malicious, evil butterflies turning your stomach into an inhospitable environment. 

You stand, your chair squeaking against the floor. “I’m so sorry,” you say in a rush. “I’ll be right back.” 

You are not, unfortunately, able to keep that promise. You spend the next twenty minutes kneeling in a bathroom stall, trying to convince yourself they probably keep the floors very clean in a nice restaurant like this while your body rejects the water you had and then several phantom meals it suspects you might’ve had while it wasn’t paying attention. When you finally emerge, Spencer is waiting outside the bathroom with a glass of water. 

“Thanks,” you murmur, taking it from him. You’re wary of repeating your mistakes, but you take a small sip to appease him before simply giving in and pressing the cool glass to your temple. 

Spencer assesses you with his gaze. You resign to it, knowing he’ll have you figured out by now whether you make it easy for him or not. 

“How long have you been sick for?” he asks softly. 

“It’s not contagious,” you want him to know. “It’s food poisoning, I’m pretty sure.” 

“That’s not…what I’m worried about.” Spencer sounds almost hurt, but his touch is gentle as he brings his knuckles to your forehead. “You didn’t have to come if you weren’t feeling well.” 

“I’m sorry,” you sigh. You’re too exhausted to pretend at being anything else anymore. “It was stupid. I didn’t want to bail on you, but instead I’m ruining it.” 

“You’re not ruining it.” His first knuckle moves almost imperceptibly, a tiny caress. “This isn’t your fault. We can do this another time. Did you drive here?” 

“Yeah,” you say meekly. 

Spencer frowns. “Can I take you home? You’re too hot to be driving yourself.” 

He flushes instantly, though you weren’t going to say anything. 

“That’s not what I meant.” 

“I know.” 

“Here.” He guides you to a bench, his hand ever so gentle on your waist. “Wait here, okay? I’ll grab our stuff.” 

You’ve fully given into wretchedness. You have no shame about resting the side of your head against the wall, closing your eyes until Spencer returns with a touch to your shoulder. He’s carrying his jacket and your bag, and the sympathetic look the hostess shoots you says that he’s conveyed you’ll be abandoning your reservation. 

“You don’t have to drive me,” you say as Spencer leads you outside, one hand at your back like he’s afraid you’ll keel over. “I can get home alright. I don’t want to throw up on your nice suit.” 

“I thought you liked my cardigans best.” If you didn’t know better, you’d say he was teasing you. “Anyway, the idea that you could be sick again this soon isn’t consistent with the idea that you could get home alright.”

It’s so him, the way he reasons this out, like he’s outlining an argument you’d never honestly expect to win. It reminds you that you’re on a date with Spencer Reid, and that makes you feel worse. 

You let him shepherd you to his car and sit you in the passenger seat. He buckles his seatbelt, looks over to see that yours is on, and his hand twitches as if it’s going to reach for yours before rerouting to the ignition. 

“Spence…” 

“Hm?” 

“Just, thank you. And I’m sorry, for making us leave.” 

“It’s okay.” He says it so easily, like a given. He does reach for your hand now, his fingers closing over yours to give the gentlest of squeezes. “You don’t have to be sorry. You didn’t ask to be sick.” 

“I’m really sorry I ate that sketchy pasta last night.” 

Spencer laughs. It’s a lovely sound, lovely enough to make you smile despite the roiling of your stomach. 

You say, in a softer voice, “I think it would have been a really nice date.” 

“We’ll find out,” he says surely. “Maybe next week, if you’re not doing anything. We could come back here, or go somewhere if seeing that bathroom again will make you uncomfortable. I know that for some people nausea can be a Pavlovian response. You spent…a long time in there.” 

You stifle a groan, leaning your head against the window and turning your face in humiliation. Spencer’s thumb stroking down the side of your hand makes it all worth it.

[calumcxke]

CHOCOLATE MILKSHAKE

yang jungwon x fem!reader

SUMMARY: your rich boyfriend- who you never thought you would have a chance with- loves to spoil you. even with the smallest things.

WARNINGS: none just really fluffy and they’re both down bad for each other

wc: 1.9k

notes! this is mainly based on a dream i had about ricky from zb1 LMAOO so sorry if it’s a bit unrealistic and tooth-rottingly fluffy, this was also RUSHED, i know i usually write about txt but i’ve been on such an enhypen kick lately and i loveeeee jungwon

yang jungwon was rich. if that was even the right word for it.

with a prestigious father- who was rumored to be one of the reasons he got into snu- his whole family was loaded.

he walked around campus like he owned it. realistically speaking, he could probably buy it if he wanted to. everyone knew him. and his friend group. jungwon, jake, and heeseung were some of the most well known people at school.

you, on the other hand, were not. it’s not like no one knew you. you were known, just not popular. not like jungwon. you had friends, aka sunoo, soobin, and karina.

which is why it was a bit weird when jungwon had taken a liking to you. it wasn’t anything special at first. just small smiles exchanged in passing, but it was still enough to have you running off and telling your friends what had happened. they, of course, told you to make a move. you refused. that’s too scary. making a move on the most popular- and the hottest- guy in school? you would rather crawl into a hole.

you didn’t have to worry too much about making the first move, though. a few days later jungwon caught you at the end of class, falling in step next to you as he asked for your number.

you almost disintegrated into a puddle on the spot, masking your shock as you sputtered out a yes, putting your contact into his phone. you tried to ignore how soft his voice was, or how intense his eye contact was, or the way he smiled at you, or how cute his dimples were, or- you were down bad.

when you told your friends, they nearly lost their minds. karina was jumping around you, before sunoo concluded this called for a night out. you still think he just wanted an excuse to eat out. but alas, you spent the whole night making a plan. or, they spent the whole night making a plan while you sat there daydreaming about the dimple-y, cat-eyed boy who you had spoken to earlier that day.

it started out as just exchanging texts back and forth. you tried not to be awkward, but you always were with new people. plus, you were talking to yang jungwon. if things got awkward, you brought up school. lame, but it was the only thing you knew you had in common with him.

you don’t remember when, but the texts turned into calls, then late night facetimes. looking forward to calling him at night, checking your phone constantly with every notification. smiling when you saw his name pop up on your phone. then he asked to hang out.

in person.

you felt like a part of you glitched when he asked, his smile lighting up your phone screen in the dark. you said yes, obviously. what you didn’t expect was for jungwon to say he was on his way, asking you to meet him outside the library in ten minutes. you still said you would be there, immediately calling karina once you hung up, screaming to her about what was about to happen. she calmed you down, but she was just as excited as you.

you cleaned up as best as you could without looking like you were trying too hard, listening to karina’s advice on how to act before you were rushing out the door, shaking from the cold air whipping against you and your nerves.

the night was fun. you two spent it walking around, giggling with each other about stores you could think of. you learned even more about him. he went on a rant about how good aladdin was while you stared at him with an endeared look. the night ended with you two hand in hand, your fingers intertwined and arms swinging as he walked you back to your dorm.

you two stood outside your door awkwardly, you shifting your weight from foot to foot before telling him goodnight. with a surge of braveness, you were on your tippy toes and pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. you watched the surprised look on his face that he replaced with a smile soon after, his cheeks turning a pretty pink.

you turned around to go back into your apartment before a hand on your wrist stopped you. you didn’t have time to process what was happening until you were being turned around and his lips were on yours. he pulled away with a shy smile on his mouth, his dimples poking through as he backed away, whispering a goodnight before he was walking off. you stood in a daze, unsure of how this was reality. you finally stuttered out a goodnight, entering your dorm calmly before you were jumping up and down with silent screams, immediately calling sunoo, soobin, and karina. safe to say they had to listen to you rant for about two hours.

that’s basically how it all started. to this day, two months in, there was only a handful of people who knew. jake and heeseung knew, along with your friends. your friend groups had meshed slightly, although you didn’t hang out much at school. at night and off campus were when you would all get together. you and jungwon in your own world, while everyone else conversed with each other.

right now, you were walking along the sidewalk, soobin, sunoo, and karina in front of you while you and jungwon trailed behind, fingers intertwined as you walked to your favorite shake shop. you had been looking forward to it since you woke up, imagining the cold chocolate shake invading your tastebuds throughout every lecture.

“what’re you gonna get?” you asked, turning your head to face jungwon, his eyes meeting yours as he thought.

“whatever you get,” he replied with a smile, his dimples poking through.

“don’t get what i get, get what you want,” you giggled, rolling your eyes at him playfully.

“i like chocolate shakes,” he spoke, your eyes widening slightly at his sentence.

“you remember my order?” you asked, your lips hanging open as you stared at him.

he laughed, turning his head away from you to face forward again, “it’s not like you haven’t been talking about it all day.”

oh. that’s right. you laughed awkwardly, mumbling out a ‘sorry’ as you looked forward again. he gave your hand a squeeze, laughing along with you. a comfortable silence fell upon you two, listening to your friends converse in front of you. there was no need to keep talking to fill the silence. just being around each other was enough.

your eyes lit up as your favorite shake place came into view, the light brown and orange shack standing on its own off of the sidewalk, four little steps leading up to the window where you placed your order. you smiled brightly, subconsciously picking up your steps as you dragged jungwon along behind you. sunoo laughed at the two of you, pointing you out to soobin and karina, who could only roll their eyes with smiles on their faces.

you skipped up the steps to the entrance, turning around to see your friends right behind you. you sent them a toothy smile, pulling out your wallet, “i’ll cover us today!”

you tried to ignore the smile jungwon sent you, or the heat that rose to your cheeks as you spun back around to greet the girl behind the counter, smiling brightly at her, “hi! can i get one- sorry, two chocolate shakes,” you paused as she put the drinks in, looking back up at you, “and then just whatever they want.”

you gestured to your friends behind you, stepping out of the way so they could place their orders. you bounced slightly on your heels, biting your bottom lip as you gave jungwon a cheeky smile, too excited for your shake to function properly. was it embarrassing to get this excited over a chocolate shake? probably. you didn’t care.

when everyone finished ordering, you stepped back up to the counter, pulling your wallet out of your bag and reaching for your card. you looked back up just in time to see jungwon leaning against the counter, sending you a cocky smile as he placed his card on the card reader, before turning his head to smile at the girl, taking the receipt from her.

your jaw dropped, a pout forming on your lips as you looked up at him, “i was gonna pay for it.”

he huffed out a laugh, squeezing one of your cheeks before shoving his card back in his wallet, heading to lean against the wall by your other friends, “it’s no big deal.”

you couldn’t fight the smile that was threatening to creep on your lips, you steps quickly catching up to him as you stood in front of him, “you didn’t have to do that.”

truthfully, you knew it was nothing to him. $40 was practically like a penny to him, it wouldn’t affect him in any way. when he said it wasn’t a big deal, it truly wasn’t. you still couldn’t help yourself from feeling bad when he bought stuff for you, though. you didn’t want to seem like the girlfriend that leeches off of her rich boyfriend.

“baby,” he started, a smile on his lips as he reached for your hands, rubbing his thumbs over your knuckles as he continued, “i would buy you anything. no matter how many zeros are at the end.”

you didn’t know what to say back. your mouth opened and closed, his words effectively shutting you up as your cheeks turned a bright red. you didn’t expect those words to leave his mouth.

smirking at your flustered reaction, he continued, leaning closer to your face as he whispered, “whether it be two zeros,” he pressed a soft kiss to your cheek, moving over to the other one, “three zeros”. another kiss.

he pulled back slightly, a soft smile on his lips as one hand left yours to grab your chin, tilting your head up to meet his, “six zeros.” he pressed his lips against yours, a soft, lingering kiss that had you reeling, his words making your mind spin.

when he pulled away, you couldn’t help the words that spilled from your mouth, “you would spend a million dollars on me?”

he simply laughed, pulling the hand he was still holding so your chest collided with his, wrapping his arms around you, “i would spend all my money on you.”

you smiled, snuggling your head into his chest as you whined, your cheeks burning, “don’t say stuff like that,” you mumbled out, your voice muffled against his shirt.

“why?” he asked simply, and you felt him shrug as he rested his head on top of yours before he pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head, “it’s the truth.”

and suddenly, the chocolate shake didn’t seem as important, nor did anything else around you. just spending this moment with jungwon, wrapped in his arms, practically surrounded by him, simply being there with him- was all that was on your mind.

all you knew was that he was as down bad for you as you were for him, and that somehow made you fall more in love with him, tilting your head up slightly to press a soft kiss against his neck before mumbling, “you have to let me buy you dinner tonight, though.”

he snorted out a laugh, wrapping his arms tighter around you, “yeah, right.”

[navybrat817]

Cooking Together

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Bucky asks you to cook a meal with him.

Word Count: Over 1.5k

Warnings: Fluff, longing, pining, canon divergent neighbor AU, flirting of sorts, mention of HYDRA, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: Short and sweet for @stellar-solar-flare’s Starry Winter Sky Event! I went with cooking together and Neighbor AU as a small expansion of this nonsense. February has had some lingering January energy, and I hope you enjoy what I was able to write! ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

If you asked Bucky if he thought he was a good cook, he’d say he was decent. He retained some of what his mom taught him many years ago and he carefully followed recipes once he was completely free of HYDRA. It was admittedly a bit of a rough go at first. Being able to choose what he could eat was a foreign concept after he didn't have the choice for so long. It got better each day. Every single meal he got to reclaim a piece of himself by making the choice of what he did and didn’t want.

Until today, he always cooked alone.

“Thanks for inviting me over,” you smiled, graciously accepting the apron he handed you.

Bucky had moved into the building a few months ago and you lived across the hall. As far as neighbors went, you were the best. Since day one, you always greeted him with a smile and a kind word. You never played your music too loud or disturbed anyone. Alpine adored you, which told him everything he needed to know since she was the best judge of character. And you never once objected to looking out for her when he had to leave for a mission.

Out of paranoia, he left harmless little “traps” to see if you'd snoop through anything the very first time you went over. Nothing that would hurt you or draw your attention, of course, but something that would let him know if anyone tampered with anything. You didn't. You were a genuinely good and respectful person, and that made him trust you more.

“Thanks for accepting the invitation. And allow me,” he offered, stepping behind you to help you tie it. His fingers lingered on the fabric and he took the moment to inhale your sweet scent before he stepped away. He didn't want to be a creep. “And it’s the least I could do since you offered to watch Alpine. Again.”

“I love watching her. She’s wonderful.”

The photos you sent were something he always looked forward to when he was away. Some of the captions you added made him laugh and smile. His favorite was a selfie you took with Alpine’s cheek against yours. He saved it as “my girls”, which you weren’t aware of.

Because you technically weren’t his girl.

“Well, she adores you,” Bucky smiled. He adored you, too. It stunned him when he found out you were single, and he was selfishly thankful for that. 

“I’ll have to get her another toy,” you said, your lips curling in a small smile. “If that’s okay with you.”

He laughed, a warm and easy sound. “Between the two of us, she’s spoiled rotten and she wouldn’t want it any other way.”

He never expected to be a cat dad, but life surprised him. In fact, it also surprised him that Alpine wasn’t camping out nearby or brushing against one of your legs. She was a smart cat and likely somehow sensed that he wanted alone time with you.

“Well, she deserves it,” you winked before things went quiet.

One of the nice things about hanging out with you was that he didn't mind any bouts of silence. They didn’t feel awkward or tense. In those quiet moments and stolen glances he felt like he had the best conversations with you. He was happy and felt safe being in the same space as you.

“You know,” Bucky began as he set the ingredients on the counter. He lucked out by having a decent sized kitchen since he took up a lot of space. “If I was a better neighbor, I would've just cooked a meal for you while you relaxed.”

It felt romantic for the two of you to cook together, but you weren't together and now he felt like an idiot. A gentleman would've made you a meal and pampered you. Or take you out for a nice meal. He hadn’t dressed up, opting for his jeans and a trademark Henley while you wore a sundress that had his mind racing with both sweet and filthy images. He didn't have flowers for you either.

His “game”, as Sam would say, was rusty.

“You're a great neighbor, Bucky. The best neighbor I’ve had,” you defended. He tried to be a good neighbor and person. A minor way to make up for some of his forced wrongdoings. “And cooking something together is fun! We could even try something at my place next week if you'd like.”

Bucky almost knocked the salt over, his eyes wide. “Really?” You were inviting him over to do this again?

“Yeah, really,” you replied, taking a moment to scan the simple recipe in the cookbook. You always had the cutest expression when you concentrated on something, and he didn’t want to choose something too difficult for the first meal. “We can take turns picking things out to try and trade off cooking at your place and mine. You can even bring Alpine over if you want.”

He suddenly had the image of you in his arms, dancing around the kitchen as you both waited for a meal in the oven to cook. Soft music, low lighting, his hands on your hips, and a tender smile on your face. Stealing a gentle kiss and keeping his eyes open only for a moment so he could see for himself that it wasn't a dream.

“Yeah,” he breathed, pulling his hair back in a ponytail and washing his hands to distract himself from his thoughts. “I’d really like that.”

“Great,” you exhaled. His heart beat faster when he caught you staring. He liked to pretend the look in your eyes was longing. “Sorry. You just…” you cleared your throat and gestured to his head. “You have really nice hair.”

The compliment had his heart racing even faster. “I have nice hair?” he asked. Your fingers would feel amazing in his hair.

You ducked your head for a moment before you met his gaze with a soft smile. “Yeah, you do.”

“Thanks,” he smiled back, his shoulder brushing yours when he stood beside you. Electricity lightly cracked between you. Did you feel it, too? “Um, I peeled the carrots before you got here. Would you like to cut them?”

“Oh, I think you’re better with a knife than I am,” you giggled.

He puffed his chest out and twirled the knife he selected in his hand without thinking about it. Part of him was showing off because, well, he wanted you to stare again. “How about I help you?”

“Help me? How?” you asked.

“Here.” He placed the knife in your hand and stood behind you once he had the carrots on the cutting board. “I’m going to preface this by saying I’m far from an expert, but I usually cut them into decent sized pieces before I dice them.”

“I trust your judgement,” you said, glancing over your shoulder. Your faces were close enough that he could kiss you if he leaned in a fraction. But he didn’t. He wouldn’t take what you didn’t offer.

Carefully placing his hands over yours once you faced forward, he felt that electricity crackle again as he helped guide you. He angled his hips so he didn’t press against you, but still stayed close. “See? You’re a natural,” he whispered against your ear when you made the first cut through the vegetable.

He heard the hitch in your breath and how your blood rushed faster in your veins. He felt your skin warm under his touch as you cut the next piece. He also caught the slight tremble that went through your frame when his grip tightened, but he didn’t sense any fear. He hadn't detected any sort of fear or disgust since he came into your life.

But what he sensed in this very moment was excitement.

“Thanks, Bucky,” you whispered back. The way you spoke his name was breathy, beautiful, and he longed to hear that again. “You’re a great teacher.”

“I’m not,” he said, thankful your back was to him so you wouldn’t see the pink that tinted his cheeks. “But I appreciate it.”

“Yeah, you are,” you stated, tempting him to turn your head toward him to kiss you. If he did that and you stabbed him, he wouldn’t blame you or hold it against you. “And Bucky?”

“Yeah?”

“I really am glad you invited me over,” you said.

He stopped himself from putting his face in the crook of your neck. “I am, too,” he said, smiling to himself as he helped you finish up. “And now that you’ve mastered the carrots, we can chop the onions.”

“Onions? Oh, no,” you groaned playfully.

As the sound of both of you laughing a second later filled the room, Bucky was glad he went with his gut and asked for you two to cook together.

And maybe before the night was over, he’d ask you out on a date and prove to himself that his game wasn't completely hopeless.

I wonder just how he'll ask you out! Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[sai-int]

You keep talking about douchebag Simon, so I keep thinking about douchebag Simon, and now I wanna get back at him. Here's my thoughts:

This time you're actually done with his bullshit. He's taken you to yours, fucked you seven ways to Sunday, and left before you even fell asleep, again. You know you could help, could give him everything he doesn't have, but goddamn, there's only so many times one can offer before the other party makes it clear that they don't want help. Simon doesn't want help.

He's just been dragging you along on a string, and now that you've cut it, you want revenge. Definitely not partially to make him jealous so he would long for you like you have for him. However, Simon hasn't told you anything about family or friends, so it's not like you could just go and fuck his dad, but some basic reconnaissance should get results.

It doesn't take but a few batted eyelashes, payments for drinks, and some bullshit story about a surprise for Simon to get the other regulars at the shitty bar Simon frequents to talk. He comes every so often with friends, each with an odd nickname. However, the one that piques your interest is one that's occasionally referred to as 'Captain". Simon does have the military look about him, with all those scars and the way he carries himself, so you assume that his Captain will be the next best thing to a metaphorical father.

You learn that his name is John Price, a perfectly average name, common in all aspects, and get a description of him, tall, bearded, built bloke. Not so average. You bribe the bartender to call you next time he's in and steal him away for a few moments after. You would wait around at the dive yourself, but you'd rather avoid Simon because you don't want to fall into old habits don't want to see his stupid face.

A few weeks later, you get the call. You look in the mirror to make sure your makeup is good enough and you throw on the best outfit you can given the time constraint. It doesn't take long to get to that bar and you make your way behind the building to meet with John Price and avoid the prying eyes of your ex(?) situationship.

The hard gaze and tense posture of the large man fall once he gets a good look at you. You're not a hostile that somehow got their location. You're just a little bird (regardless of weight or height, you're little to Price). Maybe you have a thing for large men who could kill you with one finger, because this man is certainly doing it for you. "John Price?"

"Tha's me." John is surprised you know his name at all. He certainly would've remembered you if you had met before. You must be a clever little thing.

Now, you are inherently a bleeding heart, and as much as Simon hurt you, you can't bring yourself to bring someone else into this shitty situation blind, so you explain the whole situation with him, hoping that for some reason he will help and not rat on you. The plan of course is to pretend to have a one night stand with the captain then pretend to fall in love and date for a bit. Just long enough to rub it in Simon's face that you bagged his commanding officer.

John seems entirely amused. Normally he wouldn't dream of going behind his mens' backs like this, especially not Simon who's been a loyal dog for years now, but he clearly has something to learn if he's breaking the heart of this sweet, whip-smart bird like he is, and said bird just offered a perfect learning opportunity. John never misses the chance to better his men after all, and if he can keep this bird coming back to his windowsill to sing to him, (As he doesn't want to cage the poor thing, that would be just as cruel as breaking her) then that's all the better.

Anyways that's what my brain said, you can do with this as you please. ^-^

holy shit, i don't even think I could put it better than this, but here's my portrayal!!

cw : none, douchebag!simon, simon's a brat, but john's a man

you knew this moment would come.

you spent weeks laying the groundwork, learning the ins and outs of simon’s world. the places he haunted, the people he trusted, the patterns of his life. and now, after all the work, after all the nights spent staring at your ceiling, seething over the way he’s used you.

time to make him feel it. really feel it.

because you were done. done letting him take and take and leave you empty—well, not necessarily empty, he's pumped you full of his seed more times than you could count on both hands. you're done waiting for a man who had already made it crystal fucking clear he was never going to let you in.

and what better way to drive the knife than with the one man he actually respects.

john price. his beloved captain. his commanding officer.

you had expected price to shoot you down the second you'd cornered him in the team's usual haunt and suggested your plan, to wave you off like a foolish girl playing a game she couldn’t win. instead, he just leaned back, took a slow sip of his drink, and smirked.

"he needs a lesson," he’d said, amused. "and you need a bit of fun."

john was impressed, to say the least. you managed to not only pin down when he was going to be at the pub, but also put a name to a face? clever girl, you are. gorgeous one too, and that wasn't lost on him.

which is how you find yourself here, pressed close to john price in the same exact pub, not 3 days later, looking like you belong at his side.

simon had wandered into the pub a while ago, but he had just sat at the bar, not noticing the pair cuddled up in a booth in the far corner of the bar. eventually, though, his eyes wander. bored, in his head probably. then they bulge as they land on his captain and his bird. his big, tender paws are all over you. he makes you laugh, a sound that makes simon's heart twist in a way he tried to ignore. he wipes the stray drops of your drink from your lip with the pad of his thumb.

the weight of simon's gaze is suffocating, burning a hole straight through you, scorching from across the bar. it should make you falter, should make you hesitate, but you refuse to give him that satisfaction.

instead, you lean in closer to price, one hand resting lightly on his forearm, the motion deliberate and obvious.

price plays his part so well, you'd think he was being genuine.

"hope you don’t mind me stealing your attention for a bit," you murmur, just loud enough for simon to hear, voice dripping with amusement.

price tilts his head slightly, eyes twinkling with something dangerous as he brushes your hair back. "not at all, love," he says easily, swirling the amber liquid in his glass. "was starting to think i wouldn’t see you again."

you just coyly smile at price, kneading his thick forearms as if to say 'you're so strong'. "you can see me whenever you want, John, you know i'm yours."

price hums, gaze flicking toward simon before settling back on you. "so," he muses, voice a deep, rolling thing, "you never did answer my question, doll."

you blink up at him, lips parting slightly. "what question?"

he smirks.

"this one,"

then he leans in, close, slow, one hand settling high on your thigh as he presses his lips to the corner of your mouth.

not a full kiss. just a taste. just tender enough to get your stomach fluttering.

and that’s when you hear it.

the screech of simon’s chair against the hardwood. the slam of his glass onto the bar counter.

then, low and guttural. he's seething.

"the fuck do y'think your doin?"

the tension in the room shifts, like a current crackling through the air. you feel the heat of simon’s anger, the barely-contained rage simmering just beneath his skin.

but you don’t turn, you occupy yourself with your drink, letting price answer first.

"something wrong, mate?" he asks, tilting his head, voice the perfect picture of calm

simon clears his throat, hand waving awkwardly as he tries to find the words. "that's my girl."

price just lifts a brow. "thought you weren’t interested, riley."

simon scoffs, low and sharp. "you tell me, captain," the title drips from his lips like venom. "didn’t think y'were in the business of pickin’ up my fuckin’ scraps."

you don’t flinch. you don’t even blink. you just exhale, slow and measured, before turning your head to meet his glare

"funny," you say, tilting your chin up. "didn’t realize you thought so highly of yourself"

simon’s nostrils flare. his eyes flick to price’s hand still resting on your thigh, his fingers twitch like he’s dying to rip it away

"y'slummin' it, cap?" simon mutters, but there’s a crack in his voice, a tightness to it, something that tells you this is getting to him.

price just hums, completely unbothered as he throws his arm around you. "nah," he says, tucking you into his side and planting a kiss to your temple. "just doin’ what you couldn’t,"

simon goes still.

"or wouldn't."

his fingers curl into fists, his jaw tics, and for the first time since you met him, he doesn’t have anything to say.

the silence stretches. you watch his chest rise and fall, the way his eyes flick between you and price like he’s trying to make sense of this, like he’s looking for the part where it’s just a game.

you see the moment he begins to believe it isn't, the way his shoulders tense, the way his lips part just slightly before they press into a tight, thin line

and then, just as you knew he would, he breaks. he turns on his heel, returning to the bar and downing his drink.

price exhales beside you, slow and knowing, before finishing off his drink.

"well," he mutters, "that was easier than i thought"

you hum, tipping your own glass back before setting it down with a soft clink

"you were right," you murmur, stretching, letting price’s arm fall from your shoulders to rest against the small of your back. "he’s not gonna forget this."

price lets out a low chuckle, and it feels like honey dripping down your spine. he presses his palm just a little firmer against you as he leans down, voice dropping just for you.

"no," he agrees, smirking. "especially not when he realizes i’m keepin’ you."

your breath catches slightly, just for a second, but price notices, his smirk turning softer, more certain

"didn’t think you were mine to take," he continues, thumb brushing the hinge of your jaw, "but now?" he huffs a quiet laugh, shaking his head. "fuck, sweetheart. i’d be a fool to let you slip away now."

and when he takes your hand and leads you out of the bar, the weight of simon’s absence is nothing compared to the warmth of price’s touch.

douchebag!simon mlist

[wearysparrows]

Cyanide in my Seeds

ao3/masterlist

Summary: While visiting Caleb at his college, you convince him to practice kissing with you. It escalates.

cw(18+): female reader, reader is mc, Pseudo-Incest. Kissing, Grinding, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Pet Names, Minor Angst, Mirrors, Texting, Not Beta Read, Coming In Pants, Pre current timeline 5K

Caleb:

paging pip. what’s your 20 ∠( ᐛ 」∠)_

9:31AM

Me:

Train was a little early. I’m in your dorm already. Your roommate let me in on his way out lol

9:31AM

Caleb:

him getting to see you before me in my own room is crazy work. im on my way, be a good girl and wait for me ;)

9:32AM

You lay back on the bed of Caleb’s dorm, setting your phone down next to you. You had intended to meet up with him directly when you arrived, but had run into his roommate, Gideon, on your way. Your train had arrived surprisingly early, and Caleb was still finishing the last of his morning workout in the campus gym. Gideon kindly led you back to their dorm so that you could wait patiently for your brother. Well, your boyfriend, as everyone on campus knew him. Caleb’s little stunt had worked wonders to fend his many admirers off. It was obvious to anyone who looked that you were close, though you tried not to read the comments on Caleb’s university’s social media that wondered at why Caleb was dating a girl with quiet eyes, and a blank face that gave nothing away to match. You weren’t Caleb’s shadow anymore – but you were still in the darkness, comparatively. He cast a long shadow, for all of his light. Still, it was impossible to not love Caleb for his radiance, and you were no exception. He excelled in everything – and that included the boyfriend act. 

It was almost too good. Caleb treating you the way you had long wanted him to treat you – well, it could be hard on the heart. But you were selfish, too. You’d accept the facsimile of the thing if it wasn’t reality. You’d drink it in before he found someone he truly cared about. Someone he didn’t have to pretend with. Someone he was in love with. Someone he would fill up with all of himself. Someone who wasn’t his sister. Someone who wasn’t you. The thought made your insides twist around themselves, and a small wave of nausea washed over you. Images of Caleb standing next to the nebulous form of someone else flashed in your mind's eye. You swatted at them in the real world, as if the motion would coax them to leave you alone. 

The sound of the door handle turning blessedly interrupted your musings. Caleb stepped in, looking flushed and unfairly handsome. He was still in his gym clothes – a tight white tank top, and grey exercise shorts that hugged him in all the right places. He was still covered in a soft sheen of sweat, and his chest rose and fell quickly, like he had been running just moments before. Your body was standing before you had a chance to tell it to do otherwise, walking towards him. He grinned at you, pretty purple eyes full of unadulterated mirth in your direction. Your walk quickly turned into a run, and you leapt at him. Caleb caught you easily, just as you knew he would. As he always had, since you were children. Your brother’s strength had never once faltered. You wrapped your legs around his waist, your arms around his neck. He held you with one arm around your back, the other easily supporting the span of your ass. A chuckle left him as you made contact with his body.

“Should I take this as you saying you missed me?” 

You buried your face in his neck, and inhaled. The familiar smell of his sweat, of the outside, of his warmth. You melted into him. It was like being kissed by your own personal sun. You could feel the quickness with which his heart beat under your touch.

“Caleb,” you managed. It was enough for him to understand.

“Hi, baby. I missed you, too.”

Caleb walked with you as you clung to him in the direction of his dorm bed. You knew it was coming, that he was going to release you, but you would have rather crawled under his skin and lived inside him. He set you down on the mattress, hand slipping out from under your ass. You released your hold on him reluctantly. He knelt in between your knees, his big hands spreading your legs wide apart to make room for him. A bolt of shyness shot through you, but you did your best to ignore it. Had he looked down between your legs, he would have seen everything. You were in a skirt, after all. But his gaze stayed respectful, even when you didn’t want it to.

“You’re gonna get my sweat all over your cute little clothes. I need to shower before we hang out. You got here before I could make myself all pretty for you. I stink.”

You leaned towards him and sniffed with intention. He didn’t stink. He smelled like sweat, cotton, clean laundry –  the ever tranquil scent of your brother. You still buried your face in his pillow back home, trying to catch what was left of it, even months after he was gone. He had caught you, once. You had expected him to tease you, but he said nothing, staring at you hugging his pillow with an unreadable expression on his face. Neither of you mentioned it, afterwards. Things went on as usual.

“You don’t stink. You smell good. Suit yourself, though.”

A funny look came over Caleb’s face, along with the slow rise of a deeper blush to his already red cheeks and ears. The corner of his mouth turned up, like he was trying to keep another expression in check. His hands drifted further up your legs, until he was squeezing your bare thighs. Any closer, and he could have touched you between your legs.

“You’re messin’ with me. Here,”

He removed one hand from your thigh, and you momentarily mourned its absence. He produced his phone from his pocket, and put it face down on your leg. It was cold and heavy, dead weight. Nothing like his warm hand. It was something that belonged to him, though. You would accept it as recompense for his missing touch. He tapped the back of his phone with a finger.

“You can play with my phone while you wait, if you want. It still has all the games you downloaded last time. I’ll be quick.”

You didn’t want to be apart from him for any longer than you had to. You had so little time together as it was. Even just a few minutes sounded like an age to your ears.

“Okay. But if you aren’t fast enough, I’m going to hide all your stuff from you. You’ll never find your fancy compass again.”

Caleb stood, and his groin was momentarily level with your face. You didn’t have the strength to avert your eyes. Every part of him was big. Those stupid shorts of his left nothing to the imagination. Not that you didn’t already know. He reached out, ruffling your hair. Then, as if thinking better of it, he smoothed it back into place with his palms. The pleasant sensation of his touch made your lower back prickle. 

“Instead of playin’ hide and seek with my stuff, play with me instead when I’m done.”

Caleb dropped his hands as he spoke and turned from you. As he stepped away, your hand reached out and grasped his shorts. You stared at it as if it had acted on its own accord. Caleb tilted his head at you, smiling. 

“What, you wanna shower with me?”

You dropped your hand, feeling your face warm at his teasing. What would he have done if you said yes? 

You shook your head instead of saying yes, I do want to shower with you. Just like when we were kids, I want to do everything you do, I want to do everything with you, I want you–

“Just make it quick. I’m only here for a day.”

Caleb nodded, his expression turning into one of mock resoluteness. He couldn’t keep it up, though, and it morphed back into a warm smile.

“Ten-four. Give me five minutes, angel.”

With that, Caleb disappeared into the adjacent restroom. The dorm was small, which meant you could hear every movement he made in the shower. Instead of straining your ears to catch his sounds, you laid back on the bed, and picked up Caleb’s phone. You didn’t have to guess at his password – it was your birthday. It had been for as long as you could remember. His wallpaper stared you in the face. More accurately, your face stared at you in the face, because his wallpaper was a brightly smiling picture of you, leaning over one of Caleb’s home cooked meals. Your stomach flipped. Not wanting your own eyes to continue to look back at you, you opened the first app your fingers touched – his camera roll. It wasn’t your intention to pry – but then again, Caleb didn’t really seem to mind, either. He never tried to hide his phone from you. There was nothing out of the ordinary – it was mostly slides from presentations and complicated diagrams of flight paths that you couldn’t decipher. There were some recent photos of you and Caleb together. Strangely, there weren’t any pictures of Caleb with his friends, as you would have imagined. Puzzled, you scrolled down to the groupings at the bottom. 

The little blue letters of the folders glowed faintly back at you. ‘Hidden’ seemed to stand out among them. You debated setting the phone down, letting Caleb keep his privacy. He was an adult man, and surely there were parts of himself he kept hidden, even from you. But your desire to peel him open and connect yourself to his insides got the better of you. You clicked it, and it unlocked with your face ID. You had no idea what to expect, but it hadn’t been this.

The first visible rows were almost entirely pictures of Caleb. Shirtless, in nothing but his boxers. In the mirror. You held your breath, as if you were hiding from something that would be able to hear your intake of oxygen. You clicked on one, your adrenaline racing through you, all the way into the tips of your thumbs. In it, Caleb stood in his boxers, phone in hand. He flexed his right bicep. The lighting was such that his muscles were deeply accentuated by dark shadows on his lovely tanned skin, the ripple of his abs moving down, down, turning into a line of dark hair that disappeared into his boxers. The outline of his dick was clearly visible in the soft spandex, suggested by the veins in his lower abdomen, too. The necklace that you gave him sat neatly in between his big pecs. Your mouth suddenly felt very, very dry. You forced yourself to swipe away from the image – but not before it had been permanently burned into your mind. You ached for him. Your brother, and Caleb. Whatever it was that was in between the two. You scrolled up and up through the hidden folder, and it was like watching the progression of Caleb turn into a man. He grew visibly taller, bigger. More tanned. His body fat shrank into virtual nothingness, until the striations of his muscles were visible under his skin.

Amongst the sea of Calebs, one photo stood out to you. It wasn’t Caleb at all. It was marked as a favorite, too. You clicked it, and the image of your sleeping face appeared on the screen. You were sleeping on Caleb’s bicep, wearing his shirt. It fell from your shoulder, revealing the smooth slope of your collarbone. You checked the date on the photo. It coincided with the last time Caleb had come home to visit. You had been so tired from studying the Hunter’s exam that you had fallen asleep on him. Questions sprang into your mind, rapid fire. Why did he have a photo of you sleeping, of all things? And why was it this deep in his hidden folder, if it was so recent? And why was it favorited? Your body felt uncomfortably hot. 

Was this really something he wanted to keep from you?

The sound of Caleb clattering open the bathroom door suddenly reached your ears. You had been so absorbed in your snooping that you hadn’t heard him cut off the flow of water. You threw his phone onto the bed, where it landed with a dejected thump. You crossed your hands awkwardly over your lap. Caleb padded over to you, rubbing a towel over his still wet hair. He was, of course, in nothing but a pair of sweats. You stared down at his bare feet instead of up into his face. Guilt dug into your ribs, rendering you unable to look up at him.

“What were you up to, pipsqueak? What’s with that weird posture? Doin’ something bad again?”

Caleb’s warm hand, still slightly damp, nudged your chin up so that you were forced to look up into his handsome face. There was a stray droplet of water on his neck. You wanted to lick it off.

“No,” you answered levelly. Or what you hoped was levelly.

“Just…meditating.” 

This earned a brow raise from Caleb, and he snorted, his eyes crinkling up with laughter. Obvious disbelief rang in his voice.

“Riiight. And I’m the Dali Lama.”

You rolled your eyes at him. Internally, you desperately searched for something to redirect his line of questioning away from you ogling at the partial nudes on his phone. After an agonizing moment of mental scrabbling, it came to you. You tugged on the leg of his sweats.

“Let me dry your hair, Caleb. You’re dripping everywhere.”

Caleb blinked owlishly, and then looked more pleased than ever. He nudged your arm with his hand.

“Wow, the prince treatment from you? You really did miss me.”

Caleb wandered back into the bathroom for a moment, and reappeared holding a rather beaten-up looking hair dryer. It was nothing like the nice, expensive one he had wired you money for that you had at home. He plugged it into the power strip adjacent to you, and put it in your hands. You held it, and its weight somehow felt awkward in your grip. More peculiar guilt rang its bells in your ears. He sent you money every week, but couldn’t get himself a better hair dryer? You made a mental note. Even if it was with his money, you could still get him a better one. You shook your head.

“You’re so popular, you basically are a prince around here. You don’t need me for special treatment.”

Caleb sat between your legs, and looked up at you. The violet of his eyes reflected the light that was cutting in through the small window of the dorm. You didn’t share his blood, but sometimes, inexplicably, you looked at him and saw some aspect of yourself looking back. What aspect it was, though, you didn’t know.

“But you’re the only one who I want special treatment from. Besides,”

He leaned his head against the inside of your knee, and pressed a chaste kiss there. 

“That makes you my princess, right?”

You opted to ignore his question, as well as the kiss, and turned the hairdryer on, instead. You could only handle so much of his vague insinuations about the nature of your relationship without crossing any lines. Caleb leaned his head down obediently as you worked your fingers through the softness of his dark hair. The heat and the successive whirr of the dryer lulled you into a pleasant state of relaxation. Caleb’s eyes were closed, his head bowed. You brushed your fingers through his hair again and again, a makeshift comb. His hair was quick to dry, and it seemed as if he had cut it just recently. You clicked off the hairdryer, and set it aside. Caleb didn’t rise. He was still sitting in between your legs, head low to his chest. One of his hands had found a firm grip around the back of your ankle. It traced your Achilles heel. You dragged your nails through the hair on the back of his neck. It was cropped short, and had a fine texture that tickled your palms. Caleb’s body shuddered, and he made a little sound like a whine in the back of his throat. You paused your movements, concerned.

“Caleb? Did I hurt you?”

He looked up at you, a slow raise of his head. His face and ears were flushed red – from the heat of the dryer, you figured. He licked his chapped lips.

“No, baby. Don’t worry. Your hands were just makin’ me feel really good.”

His words went right in between your legs. Your mind conjured images of your hands in other places, making him feel really good. You retracted your hands, and put them in your lap, lest they try something else. You were reminded that someday, likely soon, someone else would be making him feel good. You averted your eyes from him. Caleb tilted his head, putting himself back in the line of your gaze.

“What’s going on in that noggin’ of yours? First you treat me like a prince, then you go all shy on me.”

You bit at your lip between your teeth, weighing the value of telling him the truth.

“I was just thinking that,”

You shuffled a socked foot against the ground.

“Someday soon, you’ll find someone. You know, a real girlfriend. And we won’t be able to do this kind of thing anymore. You said I could practice having a boyfriend with you, right? So maybe we should...”

You stared at your hands in your lap. The pictures of Caleb half-naked swam in your mind. Maybe they were intended for someone. Maybe someone had already seen them. Someone who wasn’t you. Your hands felt heavier than ever.

“Practice before you can’t anymore.”

Caleb was quiet for a long moment. Too long. You opened your mouth to brush it off, ask him to pretend you hadn’t said anything, you were just kidding around – but Caleb was back to spreading your thighs apart, still kneeling between them. His hands were much closer to your hips, now. Too close. He squeezed, hard.

“You know I won’t date anyone else. I’ve told you that.”

You tried not to let his phrasing give you false hopes. Anyone else, he said. As if you were actually dating. 

“What if I start dating someone, then? You won’t help me practice?”

You nudged his thigh with your foot.

“Or should I get someone else to do it?”

It was a low blow, but one you knew would work on him. You weren’t an idiot – you knew Caleb’s possessiveness ran deeper than the still waters he tried to make it appear as. Even if his feelings weren’t romantic, he was still your brother in every sense but blood. You could push his buttons just as easily as he could yours.

Caleb’s eyes were hard, but he was still smiling up at you. He stood without a word, and you were lifted off of the bed from underneath your armpits, like you weighed nothing to him. He switched your positions – he sat on the bed, and you were deposited in his lap, your back against his broad chest. He leaned his head over your shoulder, big hands on your waist. You realized, then, that you were directly across from the dorm room mirror – the image of yourself sitting between your brother’s legs, wide eyed, staring back at you. Caleb’s voice was soft in your ear. You watched as his lips almost brushed the shell of it in the mirror.

“Sure, I’ll help you practice. Why don’t you start by introducing me as your boyfriend? Go on.”

Caleb gestured to the mirror. You had introduced yourself to others as Caleb’s girlfriend boundless times, at this point. But introducing him was something else altogether – nevermind while faced with your own reflection in the mirror. As you watched, Caleb watched you, too. You could feel him slowly harden underneath your ass as he eyed your reflection. His sudden bullying incited you to do the same to him. You nodded, as if you were going along with his whims. 

“Okay,”

You took a breath, as if winding up for it. He stroked your sides with his thumbs. His skin practically brimmed with his verve.

“Hi, everyone. I’d like to introduce you to my big brother, Caleb…”

Caleb’s dick twitched underneath you. His lips set into a hard line. He nosed your ear delicately, despite the look on his face.

“Be nice. Don’t make me say it. Why don’t you be a good girl and try that again? Otherwise, I’ll have to put you in the air for a minute as punishment.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at his threat. It was hardly a punishment at all to be suspended in the safe net of his evol, surrounded by the weightlessness of his very life force. You started again.

“Okay, okay. Hi everyone. I’d like to introduce you to my boyfriend, Caleb…”

Caleb twitched underneath you again. His hands squeezed at your waist, rubbing up and down the span of your ribcage and hips. You squirmed, because it tickled. Caleb tried to hold you still, to little avail. His voice teased your ear.

“Was that so hard?”

You pretended to try to escape his firm grasp. His voice lowered to a dull rasp. It cracked over his curse.

“Don’t squirm around so much. Shit.”

And then you were lifted into the air, not by Caleb’s hands but by his evol. It set you down next to him on the bed, instead. You blinked at him, crossing your legs over each other. He chuckled, a little breathless, but he didn’t speak. He rubbed his hands over his muscular thighs, like he had energy that had nowhere to go. You nudged him with your foot, and he took it into his lap. Right next to his obvious hard-on. You resisted the urge to press your foot against it, to see him react to you like you wanted him to, instead of pushing you away. He squeezed the arch of your foot, rubbing it absently. To your eyes, it seemed as if he had momentarily forgotten the point of all of this.

“I don’t just want to practice introductions, Caleb.”

You flexed your foot in his grasp. He turned his head to look at you, and tilted it, questioning. There was something barely restrained in his gaze. An appetite, starved. 

“What are you tryin’ to say, baby? Use your words.”

You scooted closer to him, feeling emboldened by his earlier reactions to you. 

“There’s other things real couples do, right? Like…”

You trailed off, struggling to make the word kissing come out of your mouth. Instead, you pressed your index finger against Caleb’s full lips. His eyebrows rose a fraction, and then another. He grasped your wrist, and pressed a kiss to the side of your finger before pulling it from his mouth. His fingers wrapped all the way around your wrist, easily.

“Liiike…?”

He was going to make you say it, wasn’t he?

You felt yourself losing steam. Maybe his lack of acknowledgement was an out for the both of you. Maybe you were an idiot for thinking he might actually kiss you – even just for practice. You drew your foot and wrist away from his grasp, and Caleb’s hands hovered in the air in their absences. You backed up against Caleb’s pillow, and supported yourself against it. Caleb’s body followed after yours, crawling on his hands and knees until he was hovering over you, his knees on either side of your hips, supporting himself by his hands next to your head. He was so big, especially like this. There was nowhere to escape to. He leaned down, and spoke into your ear again.

“Were you going to say that you wanted to practice kissin’ me? You want me to kiss you. Like I’m your boyfriend. I’m right, right?”

You shoved your hands against his chest, trying halfheartedly to dislodge him from your personal space. He didn’t budge, not even a fraction. His necklace hung between you. It clinked with your efforts, like some sort of consolation prize for trying. You scowled at him. 

“Stop screwing around, Caleb. You’re obviously not taking this seriously.”

Caleb’s face above you had become serious, along with his tone. His eyes darted around your face, like he was committing something memory. 

“I’m not screwing around. If you were my girlfriend,” his knuckles drifted over your jaw, his touch feather-light.

“I’d be very serious about you. I am serious about you. So,”

His face hovered closer to yours. You felt his breath fan over your face, smelled the heat of its sweetness. His voice lowered to a rough whisper.

“Want me to kiss you?”

You lay very still. Your body felt heavy, like if you moved anything besides your head, the moment would shatter, and be lost to you forever. Caleb would change his mind, and you would never get this chance again. You nodded, almost imperceptibly. Your nose brushed against Caleb’s. Not a moment after you had given your silent permission, his lips were on yours. It was soft at first, firm but gentle. You hardly had the wherewithal to react, initially. But his mouth insisted, and you gradually met him in kind. Caleb was breathing hard through his nose, and he leaned in closer to you, bending at the elbows. Emotions you normally ignored bubbled up in your chest. Emotions you shouldn’t have towards your brother. Slithering, crawling things that wouldn’t scatter no matter how much you chased them away.

 Your hands naturally found their way to his bare chest, feeling the warm planes of his pecs, and sliding down to his abs. He tensed underneath your touch, and moaned softly into your mouth. The sound made heat curl tightly in your belly, and you lifted your stomach up against him, where his dick was hard in his sweats. His hand slipped behind your head on the pillow, and fisted your hair. He pulled your mouth away from his, and lifted his face. His chest heaved, and his lips shone with the mix of your saliva.

You thought he was about to say something, but he merely looked for a moment, before he switched your positions. The gentle caress of his evol lifted you into the air, and he lay down underneath you, setting your body neatly down across the large span of him. You propped yourself up on your palms, and straddled him. His dick pressed hard in between your legs, underneath your skirt. You hardly had a moment to get your bearings, because his big hand was pressing on the back of your head, fisting your hair again, guiding you back to his mouth. His free hand had a too-firm grip on your hip, his thumb hooked underneath the waistband of your skirt. You wanted him to pull it down, to pull it off of you. To put his dick inside of you, instead of just against you.

Caleb’s tongue was in your mouth, teaching you the feel of him, imprinting his taste on you. You knew, then, that you never wanted to taste anyone else. You had already known. Caleb sucked your tongue into his mouth, and then offered you his to do the same. You lapped at it, then sucked. Caleb’s hands pressed you hard against his body, roaming everywhere except where you wanted him. He rutted up against you as he sucked, and his body shuddered underneath you. A strangle of a groan came out of his throat, and he cursed into your mouth. Then, he was still. You pulled back from him, and peered into his face, confused. 

There was no misconstruing what was unsaid in his gaze. Want radiated from his eyes, from his swollen lips and red face. He chased after your lips once more, kissing you again, and then on the side of your mouth, your cheek, your ear. His palm swatted your ass gently. 

“Get up for just a sec. I’ll be back in two shakes.”

You peeled yourself off of him, feeling yourself deflate at his unceremonious leave. You sat up on the bed, and Caleb hurried with an unusual quickness to the restroom. The sound of the faucet covered whatever other sounds he was making. You stared blankly at your own face in the mirror across from the bed. You were red to your ears, your hair a mess from Caleb’s grip on it. Your clothes were rumpled. You quickly averted your eyes, and adjusted yourself back as best you could. Caleb returned not a moment later, and sat back onto the bed. He pulled you into his arms, not giving you the option of going elsewhere. His embrace was near crushing, and he looked down at you. 

“Sorry, baby. I didn’t want to leave you, even for a second. How do you feel? Was it fun to practice with me?”

You struggled to find your voice, and cleared your throat. Caleb’s thumb was tracing over your lips. He tugged at them, and appeared to be inspecting your teeth. The reasoning for his short disappearance trickled into your mind, and you felt your face become hot all over again. Momentarily, you debated teasing him for it, but thought the better of it. The thought that you had elicited such a strong reaction from his body was something you tucked away for later. You spoke around his touch with some difficulty.  

“It wash fun. I like prachticing with you. Can we…prachtice some more?”

Caleb chuckled, a funny, strained sound. He tugged at your lip with his thumb once more before releasing your face. The air felt cold on your teeth.

“As long as you promise I’m the only one you’ll practice with, we can do it whenever you want. Promise me.” 

His voice had a tinge of strained helplessness that you couldn’t quite pinpoint the source of. Caleb lifted his pinky, and you lifted yours in kind, wrapping it around his much larger one. His finger squeezed yours. You swore you could feel his pulse, there. Maybe it was just your own.

“I promise. Cross my heart, and hope to die.”

[intheupside]

The game has been Crosby’s professional life. It’s who he is and what he talks about. Hockey is his everything. And it’s what matters most to him.

Once or twice a season, when Ray Shero was general manager of the Penguins, he would invite Crosby to his office for a brief meeting that was never brief. “Usually it was about four-hours long. I’d say to Sid, ‘What’s on your mind?’ And he’d say ‘Not much.’ And then we’d talk hockey for hours, usually all afternoon.

“Detailed talk about the game, the team, getting better, training, he has such an active mind. He’s always thinking about everything. He asks good questions. He wants good answers. And often the last thing he thought about — which tells you a lot about Sid — is money.

“One time, just after he signed his second contract in Pittsburgh, I took out a calculator in our meeting. I told him the season was 180-some days long and players got paid by the day. I then calculated how much money he was going to be getting paid each day.

“I slid him the calculator and he said, ‘What?’

“I told him that’s what you’re going to be paid every day.

“He said ‘You’re kidding, right?’

“I said no, that’s the number.

“He just stared at it and said ‘Holy cow. I guess I shouldn’t skip any optional practices.’

“That’s Sid being Sid. It was never about money with him. He’s left a lot of money on the table over the years. But when he saw how much he was making in his first big contract, how much per day, it shocked him. He’d never looked at it that way before.”

When Jimmy Rutherford took over as GM of the Penguins, he made it a point to meet with Crosby almost immediately. “I flew to Pittsburgh to have dinner with him and from the time you shake his hand, and you listen to all his input and all his knowledge, you just walk away and say ‘Wow.’ He’s more special in person than you might have thought he was before you got to meet him.”

“They play their best in the biggest moments,” said Ken Holland. “You saw that with Steph Curry at the Olympics last summer. Ultimately, no matter what the circumstance, Sid drove people to greater heights. It’s not just how they play, it’s how people follow them and jump aboard.”

“How committed are they? How much drive do they have? How motivated are they? How singularly driven are they? It’s not an accident that he scored the Golden Goal. That’s what winners do. And he’s one of the greatest winners of all time.

“Everybody loves Sid. He treats people well. He hangs out with everybody and he’s one of the guys. And the respect level for him, and for the game, is through the roof. When you’re around him you see he’s just a regular person but an extraordinary player.”

Kyle Dubas is in his second season with Crosby in Pittsburgh. Like everyone else who has been around Crosby over the years, he has been taken aback by the dedication he has to practice. “He works daily on the mastery of his craft,” said Dubas. “And he takes nothing for granted.”

But what has impressed Dubas the most is the way in which Crosby interacts with his teammates on a team struggling to find its way.

Kyle Dubas is in his second season with Crosby in Pittsburgh. Like everyone else who has been around Crosby over the years, he has been taken aback by the dedication he has to practice. “He works daily on the mastery of his craft,” said Dubas. “And he takes nothing for granted.”

“Recently, we were in Anaheim and we have a rookie defenceman, Owen Pickering, who was struggling. Sid is purposely hard on Owen in practice, competing full out against him, not maliciously, just showing the kid how hard he’s going to have to work to compete with him. Sid’s mindset is, I have to do this. If he’s going to get better, I have to do this. The kid got a little frustrated by the practice and you could see it was hard on him. He wasn’t feeling good about himself. The next day, Sid goes and gets the kid and takes him for a haircut. It’s a little gesture but on a team looking to build, it’s an important one. That’s the kind of thing Sid does on a daily basis. The kind of thing most people won’t notice.”

Five years ago, during COVID, the Penguins were upset by Montreal in the preliminary round of the playoffs. The disappointed team flew home from Toronto, where games were being played at Scotiabank Arena without fans.

The team scattered, as teams tend to scatter at the end of every season. Crosby didn’t scatter. He went from the airport to the arena. He wasn’t happy with how the season ended.

He got on the ice and practiced alone that afternoon. That was Sid being Sid.

a good day to have fond feelings about sid

[creativitycache]

It was a dark and stormy night. Rain whipped about the market. The market was deserted, not just due to the inclement weather, but the eclipse. What could be seen of the moon was an eerie red and cast no light.

The market was small. The town barely had enough people in it to warrant a single judge. The prison doubled as a place to store miscellaneous bits and bobs when not occupied. Brooms, mops, bits of things the merchants couldn’t sell but hadn’t bothered to take away and the lady who swept sometimes thought could be useful.

It was attached to a shop, which was attached to a tavern, which was where the poor stupid lost barbarian acting troupe had tried to perform for a crowd of four.

Inauspicious all around. Which is probably why a brawl started, for all that a brawl usually needs more people involved.

But the troupe was tired, and hungry, and offensive. They told vulgar jokes and when rightfully rebuked responded with foreign words that could only be curses.

When the first punch was thrown, it wasn’t a surprise who did it. The one who dragged around a stupidly huge instrument shaped like a squat woman, that he gracelessly strummed with short fingernails. The big hulking barbarian tall enough to bash his stupid head on every door frame, with muscles the size of the sacks of cheap goods they’d tried to hawk once it had dawned on them there would be no crowds and barter would be a better bet to make use of their time.

Acting and hawking and strumming had failed. But brawling? Brawling brought him to me.

I was the only coin he earned that night. I wasn't the first, but that rain swept moonless night, I was the only.

We finished the jar that he hadn’t managed to break in his big clumsy oaf hands. He’d used the others as a weapon. Said if he’d known what a bottle of booze looked like out here he’d never have thrown those other jars.

After we were done, exhausted and sweating, foul and utterly satiated, we languished in our filth.

The night was cold, and as the rain beat down and leaked through into the corners, I drew his absurdly large shirt over my shoulder. It smelled like him. It hung off me.

He tucked his chin over my shoulder as I lay my qin on my lap and showed him what a refined instrument sounded like.

Rules regarding when, where and for whom to play and not to play the qin

Appropriate times for playing the qin

Meeting someone who understands music.

Meeting a suitable person.

For a Daoist recluse.

In a high hall.

Having ascended a storied pavilion.

In a Daoist cloister.

Having climbed a mountain.

Resting in a valley.

Sitting on a stone.

Roaming along the waterside.

In a boat.

Resting in the shadow of a forest.

When the two essences of nature are bright and clear.

In a cool breeze and when there is a bright moon.

Inappropriate times for playing the qin

When there is wind and thunder, and in rainy weather.

When there is a sun or moon eclipse.

In a court room; in prison.

In a market or shop.

For a barbarian.

For a vulgar person.

For a merchant.

For courtesans or actors.

After inebriation.

After fierce anger; in loud and noisy surroundings.

After having had sexual intercourse.

When formal dress is not in order; not having washed one’s hands and rinsed ones mouth.

In disheveled and strange clothes.

When flushed and covered with perspiration.

From a qin handbook of the Ming Dynasty  (Source)

[k3n-dyll]

𝐒𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐤𝐚 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐂𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐧 | 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠; 18+ interactions only, wlw, omg i wrote something SFW!

Sevika being "not good with kids" but kids loving her anyway. She doesn't hate children, of course - she's just awkward around them. Sevika's generally not much of a talker and kids tend to talk a lot, so being left alone with a kid to entertain isn't ideal for her. Not only that but she's big and has a (also big) mechanical arm modified with sharp weapons. The control she has over her arm is unmatched, obviously but the subconscious fear that it's going to malfunction or something too close to a little one is always in the back of her mind when they're around. It never does. Because duh.

Kids though? Oh, they love her. She's quiet, but she's great at "pretending to listen" (as she calls it). As much as she doesn't want to admit it, some of the things kids talk about are deeply entertaining. One time she was 'forced' to listen to a six-year-old daughter of one of Silco's goons talk to her about a game of house that went wrong and the drama between the kid who played the mom and the kid who played the dad was so intriguing she started asking questions like she was watching a reality TV show.

Her height, her strength, and her arm? To any other adult those qualities make her a lethal tank of a soldier. To a kid? Free jungle gym. Kids that sometimes come around her quickly figured out that the most she would do is scowl at them and gently place them back on the ground if they started climbing up onto her, and the scowling doesn't even happen often anymore because one time she made a little girl cry. Now she just rolls her eyes, and entertains it for a little bit before making them get down.

One of the funniest things she discovered she could do is straight up lie. Children lack that filter between their brains and their mouths that blocks adults from saying whatever the Hell they want so they frequently ask about her arm. At first she just dismissed the question, then one day she thought about it and realized...they don't know. She could say whatever she wanted and what were the kids gonna do? Tell her it didn't happen that way?

"Where'd your arm go?"

And then her answer would be something different for each kid:

"It got bitten off by a shark" "I lost it battling a dragon" "This is my arm...I was born with it" "It just didn't wanna be there anymore....seriously, just got up n' walked away from me one day." (a favorite she had to stop using because one day a kid spent the rest of the day clutching his arm in fear that his arm would decide it didn't like him anymore and walk off)

Have y'all ever seen those videos of dudes holding babies weird? Doctors will come on the internet and say it's good for the baby, which, slay, but it's still a weird way to hold a baby, right? That's how Sevika holds babies. She will do everything but hold them 'correctly' for some reason. I once saw this video of a guy carrying his baby by the back of its onesie like cats carry kittens by the scruff of their necks and I could 1000% see Sevika doing just that (obviously once the baby can like, hold its own head up). Or like carrying the baby on their stomach on her forearm (I think it's called a football hold?). It's always a little anxiety-inducing to see but also a little funny because the baby would just be chilling and looking around, not caring how precariously it's dangling in the air.

I dunno what made me do this at 7 in the morning but uh...yeah

Donations 4 Palestine - Arcane Masterlist

Taglist; @archangeldyke-all, @delinthecut @sevsbaby, @half-of-a-gay, @porcelainmystery,  @strawberry-shortcakey , @abvisionss , @urbayolet,

@Sillygirl-lol

[sanjisleggy]

take care of you (trafalgar law x reader)

summary: Trafalgar Law discovers you’ve been hiding a severe injury from him

a/n: another req from the end of dec last year! back then i still wasn’t very confident with Law’s character but i think i should be good enough with it now :3c

contents: pre-relationship, descriptions of bodily wounds, infection, angst to fluff, hurt/comfort, very soft!Law

wc. 1.5k

wanna be on my taglist?

the first thought that comes to mind when you wake up in the infirmary feeling super groggy and sore is: “fuck.” pulling aside the blanket draped over you reveals an impeccably clean, fresh bandage wrapped firmly around your torso where, the last you remember, underneath it lays a gunshot wound you hoped the others would never find out about 

you can barely recall the lightheadedness and nausea you felt before you passed out. it turns out re-stitching and re-dressing your own infected wound is a lot harder than doing it for someone else, especially when you have to muffle your groans of pain during the process

you’d gotten the injury during a battle against enemy pirates and you’d decided that since the bullet made a clean exit, you needn’t bother your captain for medical assistance–especially since, at the time, he was busy helping the Straw Hat’s doctor with the more severely-wounded allies. having some experience doing first aid, you foolishly assumed you’d be able to handle it all on your own, that it was a small matter not worth adding to your captain’s already-overflowing plate

on top of the bedside table sits a jug and two plastic cups, one of which looked like it’s been used. there’re also numerous boxes of different medication and a handwritten note that says “do NOT leave this room until you’ve finished your entire course of medication” in Law’s familiar handwriting

knowing that he’s aware of your state–and most likely the person who treated you to begin with–eases your anxiety a little. at least now you don’t have to stress over hiding it from him and your other crewmates 

what doesn’t help with your nerves is how for the following week you spend recovering, you don’t see Law at all. everyone else has taken turns coming in to spend time with you: Bepo takes naps with you, Shachi brings you comics to read together and Penguin sneaks you little snacks but not once has your captain shown up at all. your crewmates don’t seem too keen on talking about him when they’re with you, too, which only means one thing: he’s super pissed

you begin to worry and overthink as you near the end of your mandatory bedrest, dreading the inevitable moment Law finally shows up and you have to face the consequences of causing even more trouble for him than if you’d just asked for help right after the battle a week ago

it gets worse when you’re alone with no one to distract you from any intrusive thoughts. what if he thinks i don’t trust him to be my captain? what if this ruins his view of me as his crew member permanently? what if he kicks me out of the crew entirely?

you end up lamely falling asleep with tears staining your face and end up in such deep sleep that–like every night before–you don’t stir at all when Law enters the room and takes a seat by your bedside. he sighs deeply and rubs his face, eyes burning from sleep deprivation, as he leans back in the chair and readies himself for yet another whole night to watching over you and leaving right before the sun rises

Law notices your tears and feels a pang in his chest as he recalls a conversation he had earlier with Penguin; the latter had asked him to come see you while you’re awake since it’s obvious to everyone you’re worried he’s mad at you

“i’m just saying, Captain, it might be better to clear the air sooner or later,” Penguin said as he scratched the back of his neck. “(Y/N)’s been looking more miserable by the day.”

“good. she should be.” Law’s response comes out a lot colder than he wanted it to but Penguin knew him well enough to understand that. “what was she thinking hiding an injury like that? had she hidden it any longer or if Bepo hadn’t found her passed out in her room that day, a near-fatal fever would’ve kicked in at any moment!”

he stopped himself before he could get even more riled up, knowing it wasn’t Penguin’s fault so he shouldn’t be suffering the brunt of his captain’s fury.

as he sits in the darkness of the infirmary, the room only barely illuminated by the moonlight shining in through the open window, Law thinks about what he held back from saying aloud: how learning that you’d fallen unconscious with a badly infected wound made him question everything he thought he knew about his capabilities as a captain

he knows he doesn’t need to sit by your side every night–and deprive himself of much-needed sleep–but he’s deadly paranoid. just a week ago he’d ignorantly assumed his crew members were fine and directed all his attention to Luffy’s crew, only to find out days later you’d been walking around with a bullet hole through your body this entire time 

what if i’m missing something else? he wonders, eyebrows furrowing as he rapidly blinks away the sleepiness in his eyes. what if her condition worsens if i leave? 

giving in to temptation, he picks up your hand and holds it carefully, before idly running his thumb over your knuckles and the individual joints of your fingers. it’s something you do to him often, especially during the nights when he shows up to your room unannounced, silently pleading for company

you aren’t dating. not yet, at least. though it’s obvious to the two of you–as well as everyone else–that your relationship doesn’t quite fall under the category of ‘friends’, either. for a while now, you’ve been something in between for him; someone whose opinion of him he’s more sensitive about and whose company he yearns for any time you’re not within his sight. he knows you feel the same way, too, from how you spend all of your free time ‘bothering him’ endlessly to how willingly you let him crawl into bed beside you when he needs your warmth and companionship to keep away the nightmares

Law’s pulled out of his own thoughts when he catches a glimpse of the tears still clinging to your face, the moonlight having reflected off the wet surface in a way that caught his attention. without thinking, he reaches out to dry them only for your eyes to flutter open once his fingers make contact with your cheeks

“Law?” you croak and almost instantly he begins pouring a cup of water for you before bringing it to your lips. wordlessly, you drink as he tilts the cup gently, careful not to spill anything. there’s an odd pause between the both of you when he places the cup back on the bedside table and then turns back to looking at you without saying a thing. 

he catches the way you fiddle anxiously with a corner of your blanket and a single word fumbles clumsily out of his mouth before he can stop himself.

“sorry.”

you look at him, confused. he swallows thickly.

“i’m sorry i haven’t come to see you. i heard from the others you think i’m mad at you.”

“are you, though?” you reply, biting your lip. “mad at me?”

Law sighs and rubs his face again. “no,” he answers honestly. “i’m mad at myself for not noticing sooner.”

“i’m so sorry,” you gasp suddenly before fresh tears begin pouring down your face. he panics internally and  reaches out towards you almost as if to grab your shoulders but he pauses before any contact is made, his hands hovering over you. “i’m sorry i hid it from you and the others, i just didn’t want to cause you any trouble but i just ended up making things even worse.” you wipe frantically at your face, almost embarrassed to be crying about such a thing in front of your captain.

“no, no, (Y/N),” Law shushes, finally finding the courage to touch you, resting his large hands on your shoulders before squeezing gently in an attempt to ground you. “don’t cry. i forgive you, okay? just don’t hide such a thing again. it’s my duty to take care of you. it’ll never feel like trouble, no matter how busy i am.”

you nod as you sniffle and smile wobbly at him and the sight sends an arrow straight through his chest. his heart begins to race when you reach out as if asking for a hug.

“sleep with me tonight? and maybe tomorrow night, too?” you ask softly in such an innocent manner it knocks the wind right out of his lungs. not trusting himself to speak without fumbling like an idiot, Law simply responds with a smile and a nod before crawling into bed beside you.

the infirmary bed is much smaller than your personal one–seeing as it’s made for only one adult–but neither of you have an issue with the proximity forced upon you two due to the lack of space. if anything, you welcome it happily, humming with content when you feel him wrap his arms firmly around you, holding you pressed to his firm chest. Law buries his face in your hair as he feels you nuzzle into the junction of his neck while he falls into some much needed sleep. 

gen taglist: @irethepotato @i-reblog-fics-i-like @grierpilots @appalost @hyper-fic-ation @dressycobra7 @38lyra38 @chaseyui @paraparakiss @krooschl @teewon @olliesoxenfree @misstraffy @riftmage27 @aletch @somatchajade @kitsunechan707 @thesmolestsage @lunaizhere @saint-atlas @goldenpanda16 @Jordan03400 @rebeccawinters @glorywielder101 @slytherinambitious @the0twst0shrimp0mc

[obsessivevoidkitten]

Reparations

Yandere Ogre King x Gender Neutral Reader

CW: Noncon, big ogre cock, briefest mention of muskiness, size difference, sex slavery, overstimulation Word Count: 517 (Sorry I am writing so little, I hope this helps!)

The day before war broke out, the ogres unified. All 12 major factions and all 3 minor factions had been brought together under one identity by the brilliant leader, Brackwar Brolth.

No more infighting or warring between the ogres. All had been convinced to come together for their own safety and the well-being of their race as a whole.

The human kingdom, Unlith, was unaware of this when it launched its surprise attack. They thought they were attacking one strong ogre tribe. They ferociously attacked what was formerly Skroul territory.

At that point, the ogres had unified in treaty but had not yet bolstered their combined defenses. Worse, they had been celebrating and were cut off guard.

The humans plundered and slaughtered through several ogre towns, and while they defended themselves, they were no match for a coordinated attack by Unlith forces...

And then the entire might of the newly forged ogre kingdom bared down upon them, and they were quickly decimated. But they had lost brothers and sisters. Blood had been spilled, homes destroyed.

They brought full-on war to Unlith and the humans it held. So fiery was their rage and so destructive was their rampage that Unlith's king surrendered within a month.

The ogres accepted but demanded reparations. They had lost a lot of people and demanded replacement. They needed warriors, miners, smiths, and builders. They promised that while the given humans would not be allowed to leave, they would be treated well, just like any ogre. They would also be expected to serve as a mate for one of the brave ogre warriors who had fought in the war. 

And that was how you, who had just completed your apprenticeship and started your own smithy, came to be a drooling incoherent babbling mess moaning into the broad chest of your ogre husband, Brackwar himself, as he pounded into you while he made you ride him. Despite the huge size disparity between you and the muscular behemoth that was forcing himself into you, he never once hurt you and was always careful to avoid injuring his tiny human spouse.

Life wasn't all terrible. You got money from your work and got to do what you had trained for. But when you weren't working at the forge, you were taking massive loads of cum from the ogre's musky cock. He was completely devoted to spending every spare second he had tending to your hole with his dick, never missing an opportunity to empty his large nuts into you.

You'd often go to bed with him gently rocking his dick into you and you'd typically wake up to the same thing. If the two of you were both free at the same time, you'd soon be forced to cuddle and take dick while he doted on you and said things like, "you're prettier than any ogre." Afterwards he'd clean you up and snuggle you while you recovered your senses, commonly fucking you right back out of them.

There would certainly never be any escape for you so it's a good thing you learned to enjoy ogre cock.

[ofbatsandballads]

Yay! I’m so glad you take requests. Feel free to decide if you want to write this or not, it’s fine either way :)

So, I was thinking about Jason dating civilian!reader, and her coming home all disheveled and horrified. Since she knows about him being Red Hood, she can confide in him. She had just killed someone for the first time, whether it was an accident, self defense or whatever, you decide.

I was just wondering how Jason would handle this situation since usually he’s the one doing the killing.

Thank you <3

oh, this is amazing food for thought. I actually think he’d be the very best person to come to in such a situation because he has experience with killing. who’s gonna understand you better than him? literally nobody. had something similar to this in my drafts but now my mind is whirling in a whole host of directions. excellent prompt, nonnie!

jason todd x f!reader. warnings include graphic depictions of violence and killing (in self defense), attempted and failed sexual assault, the aftermath of both events (reader’s in shock), hurt/comfort. this one’s got heavier subject matter so please do mind the warnings, folks. i did way too much research of the Gotham Knights map for this, but it’s my favorite depiction of the city so so be it. also reader and Jason live in the Belfry bc i said so (personal hc that i may or may not elaborate on some time). and one last thing! the romanized Arabic at the end is “حياتي ” which translates to “my life”. I love the idea that Jason picked up Arabic terms of endearment from Talia calling Bruce just about every one she could.

Jason wakes up to soft afternoon sunlight shining on his face. He grumbles out a gravelly hum and scrunches up his face in protest against being awakened when he was sleeping so nicely. He reaches out to find the comforting warmth of his beloved beside him, to pull you in and bury his face into your hair so he can hide from the morning for a bit longer.

All he finds are cold sheets and an empty pillow.

He bolts upright. Something’s wrong. You never, never wake up before him. He doesn’t even register the way that the sudden abundance of light stings his eyes. He takes stock of his surroundings, his training executing on autopilot. The open layout of the Belfry lets him get his bearings in seconds. He doesn’t see you anywhere from the bird’s eye view of your loft bedroom. There’s no smell of food in the kitchen nor any mess that would indicate you’d been working in there. The living room space, fully visible below, is empty too. The only enclosed space in your home, the bathroom that’s just around the corner from your bedroom, is dead quiet. No running water, no sweet singing, no familiar coughing from swallowed toothpaste. And without so much as leaving your bed, Jason’s already come to a conclusion that sends his heart pounding and dries his throat. You’re not here.

He’s up and grabbing the 9mm taped under your bedside table in the span of a few breaths. He moves through your home methodically, like he’s clearing one of Gotham’s criminal hideouts. There’s no sign of a struggle. Nothing’s been disturbed. He’s not surprised by this—barring Wayne Manor, the Belfry is the most secure building in Gotham. That’s precisely why Jason had moved you both here once you decided to live together. He checks the coffee table and sees that your phone and wallet are gone. A different type of fear takes over now. One that makes his heart ache. What if you’ve finally had enough, finally seen that he’s not good enough for you, not worth sticking around for? It makes him sick. He swallows hard and tries to clear the blistering thought from his head. No, that’s not you. You’re not cruel. You’re kind and gentle and loving. You wouldn’t hurt a fly. And you wouldn’t hurt him.

The sight of gears turning in his periphery catches his attention. He sees the cables pulling and the security panel go green, and he’s running to the elevator doors damn near ready to pry them open. He hastily tucks the 9mm into the waistband of his pajama pants, easily within reach if he needs it. Relief floods him when the huge metal doors grind open and he sees your pretty face on the other side. Then his heart drops when he realizes that that pretty face is scraped and splattered with blood.

Your hair is tangled and wet, dripping dirty water down your neck and staining the bright red of his your favorite hoodie. Your hands, which shake as they reach blindly towards him, are stained crimson and battered too. But it’s your eyes that haunt him. You look broken.

“Jay,” you croak out, unable to summon anything but a plea for the one person who can keep you safe.

The tears fall from your eyes at the same time that you collapse into Jason’s arms. He drags you inside and locks down the Belfry. Jason wants to panic but feels a strange sense of calm about himself. As loathe as he’d be to admit it, he finds himself falling into Bruce’s habit of assessment and action.

“Baby, what happened?” he asks, voice steady and assured.

You don’t even hear him. You’re digging your hands into his shirt, clinging on to him like he’s the only thing keeping you tethered to Earth. He may very well be. He feels you going rigid and cold and he knows he has to get you stable before you descend further into shock.

“Listen to me,” he says firmly, adding on and enunciating your name for emphasis.

That sparks some semblance of lucidity. Jason hasn’t called you by your name in months, much preferring you be his baby or his sweetheart or his doll, or simply his. If it jars you back to reality, so be it.

“I need you to tell me what happened,” he demands gently.

It all pours out of you like a flood.

You’d woken up early by chance this afternoon. Normally you’d just close your eyes and snuggle closer to Jason to catch a couple more hours of sleep, but you wanted to do something nice for him. So you’d gotten up and gone to Lemay’s Flower Emporium in Gotham Heights. You’d bought him the prettiest bouquet of red and pink roses, so big that you had to hold on to it with both arms. The taxi ride from the Heights back to Coventry Station went fine. You were almost home. So close that you could see the clock tower where your heart was sleeping peacefully.

Then you stopped at Commerce Avenue Station. You just wanted to get him some pastries from the little bakery tucked away on 3rd Street that you both love. It was a decent walk; you knew that. You also knew that Jason wouldn’t want you to go out of your way by yourself. But it was morning and you were a grown woman and you could handle yourself, right? Well, that’s what you thought until a pair of hands clamped down on your shoulders and yanked you violently into a side alley.

Jason had prepared you for something like this. You’d spent countless evenings with him teaching you self defense techniques in the training area of your home. None of it mattered because the man that had you by the shoulders slammed you so hard into the brick wall that all your thoughts went hazy. Before you could regain your footing, you were shoved to the ground. The bitter sting of your palms scraping open pierced through the fog, as did the crushing weight of the vile man on top of you. Fear shot through you as the man started tugging at his belt and you realized that this wasn’t intended to be a mugging. You tried to scream but a grimy hand clamped over your mouth, hitting your head against the ground and soaking your hair in dirty rain water and blood.

Your eyes darted around in search of someone—anyone. But no one was coming. You felt fingernails scratch against your stomach as clammy hands curled into the waistband of your sweatpants and suddenly you saw your savior. A brick from the damaged alleyway laid within reach. You didn’t even think when you grabbed it, when you swung it as hard as you could into the side of the man’s head. The corner hit his temple and he crumbled to the side. You rose to your knees and hit the man again. And again. All you could remember were Jason’s firm instructions: if someone makes it a choice of you or them, you make sure that it’s you no matter what it takes.

“I don’t r-remember anything else,” you sob into his chest. “There was so much blood, Jason. And his head—oh, God.”

Jason shushes you gently. He holds you tight in his arms like he’s terrified that if he loosens his grip even slightly, you’ll fade away on him.

“Don’t think about it, baby. You did what you needed to do. You protected yourself. I’m so proud of you.”

“I killed someone, Jason. I killed someone.”

You look at him wide eyed—afraid, horrified, guilty. No. Jason won’t have that. You will not feel guilty over some lowlife scumbag who wanted to hurt you, who probably would have killed you. Jason can’t even stomach the thought. He wants to put a bullet into whatever’s left of that predator’s head. No, the only shame in you killing that man is that you got to him before Jason could.

“I need you to listen to me,” he says, repeats your name again for emphasis. “You. Did. Nothing. Wrong.”

“Someone’s dead because of me, Jay,” you argue, gripping him tighter as your panic rises.

“Baby, do you know how many people are dead because of me?” he asks. “Far, far more than I’d ever want you to know. Do you think I’m a monster, honey? That I did something wrong?”

He knows it’s an apples to oranges comparison. But you’ve used this same tactic on him so many times that he also knows it’s effective. Every time he demeans himself for something, you ask if he’d treat you the way he treats himself for the same thing. The answer is always no.

“No!” you reply emphatically. “You protect people. You do it to keep people safe.”

“You did it to keep yourself safe.”

“But—”

“No buts. Or ifs. No ands, either, just in case you get any ideas,” he says lightly, brushing a speck of blood off your cheekbone.

You smile at his stupid little comment and he feels the tension in his body release just slightly. As long as there’s light back in your eyes for even a moment, he knows that you’ll be okay. He picks you up, lets you cling your arms around his neck and bury your face in his chest as he carries you to the bathroom upstairs. He runs you a bath and, after asking repeatedly if you were okay with it, undresses you and washes the blood and grime from your body. He wraps you in a big fluffy towel, dries and brushes your hair, and tends to your injuries before he bundles you up in his comfiest hoodie and pajama pants. He soothes you when your tears make their return and never leaves your line of sight because he knows he makes you feel safe.

The thought gnaws at him throughout the day. It outright scalds him as he lies in bed with you after deciding to skip patrol. He’s failed you. Failed to protect you, failed to ensure nothing harms a hair on your head. He’s failed at taking care of you, the one thing that matters more to him than anything else. He’s seconds away from spiraling into self hatred when your sweet voice comes calling, soft and pleading.

“Jay…please stay with me,” you say softly.

Your eyes are clear and focused again. You squeeze his waist tight where your arms are wrapped around him, like you’re physically trying to anchor him in place in your bed. The look on your face says that you know exactly where his mind was headed. You see right through him. It makes him feel more vulnerable than anything else, and it surprises him how much he loves the feeling. And Jason, as always and for eternity, can’t bring himself to deny you. So he pulls himself together and shoves all his self loathing down. He can deal with it later—you need him more right now.

“I’m right here, hayati. Not goin’ anywhere, I promise.”

He kisses you gently and feels some of that self hatred wash away when you chase after him for more goodnight kisses. He feels it dissipate even more when you fall asleep in his arms with a soft smile on your face. It’s all but forgotten as he drifts off too, safe in the knowledge that you’re here with him, that he can feel your heart beating pressed tight against his own.

[ablobwhowrites]

PLEASE-... please just a bit more on the 'A new home sweet home' AU. I'm emotionally attached I'm attached to

Please I need more-... I love them🥲

-the weird one

Don’t worry. There’s a lot more of new home sweet home au cause I like writing for this au.

There was a time when y/n and their best friend went to hang out for a little bit. (Don't worry, y/n's grandma was watching the toys and yeah they where introduced to their grandma and she acts like all the toys are her grandkids and she brought cookies for them everytime she gets to watch them for a bit) y/n's friend kinda snuck into playtime co but only the surface and found a document with y/n's name on it and it read how y/n was perfect for a experiment for a new toy. And their surgery date was the same time as the hour of joy and this makes y/n wonder if had they stayed and not went to work that week then what would happen to the toys? What would have happened to them? After everything and how they didn't know what was happening to the kids in that factory, they trusted that playtime co was a alright company but now they don't know what to think but y/n just decide to burn it. Just felt right that playtime co can't hurt the toys anymore, they can't hurt them anymore.

Also the first week when y/n brought all the toys back to their house. Y/n got some food and when I tell you, the toys sobbed because like food never tasted so good because being starved and forced be eating corpses and rotten food or even other toys. Like y/n made some food for them and when doey ate his food. Jack (sorry if I got the kids names wrong or mixed up) Immediately took over and he started to cry and eat cause like who wouldn't after finally getting to eat a good meal and being able to be in a safe house after being hurt, starved and abandoned and scared for years. And the fridge and any small snacks are all eaten and y/n isn't mad and will just worry about later.

Y/n also may have asked for their friends mini van and to be picked up and y/n's best friend was the first to kinda meet the toys and saw y/n basically bloody and beaten because no way they come out unscathed. It was a very awkward drive back to y/n's house. Also totally imagine just y/n taking a good shower but then shower though hits them and they realize they have bascially traumatized toys who where once kids but horrifically made into these things and now y/n has to take care of them but it's better than the factory. Far better than the factory.

(that's it for this yap session. Promise more stuff for this au is coming out but if you like it please don't be shy and request any ideas for stories or just your thoughts on this au. But for now please stay safe and drink water!)

[amatoryscripts]

Never Let You Go

Pairing: Soft yan! Caleb x Fem! reader

Summary: You've had back-to-back missions lately, and Caleb's getting fed up and concerned. Not only is he worried, but he also hates that he hasn't been able to spend more time with you lately. When Jenna calls, saying she needs you on a mission with the team, he doesn't like the idea and intervenes with you going.

Warnings/tags. MDNI +18: Soft yandere Caleb, forcing you to stay home, poor baby cares too much, obsessive and possessive, unprotected sex, use of "baby girl" "princess" "baby" "pretty girl", MC giving him the silent treatment,makeup sex, biting, so good he tears up.

Lately, every time you turn around, a call from Jenna would come through about a mission that would take up hours of your day, sometimes even longer. How often you've been disappearing in the last two weeks was becoming concerning. Especially to Caleb, who has noticed this the most. How could he not? Every time you two had plans to be together, you had to cancel because of a last-minute mission due to wanderers lurking around. It didn't help his anxiety when you'd video call him after these missions; you'd be bruised up and getting bandaged by the medical techs during a majority of these calls. It pained him to see you in those conditions, as if his own heart could feel all the bruises and wounds you've accumulated on your body.

He always tells you that you can say no to a mission once in a while. Seeing you relax on his couch, reading one of your books while he made you food was a more enjoyable image than seeing you covered in blood and injured. Despite him asking you to do so many times, you refuse. Your response would always involve your worries of not being there for your team and helping to save those around. You were always putting other people first. Sometimes, he wishes you were as selfish as him.

Today was supposed to involve a relaxing date night at his apartment. The plan was to eat dinner and watch the movie they didn't get to last time cuddled up on the couch. In the kitchen, he was cooking a new dish you've been craving to try for a while. Oyster Rockefeller paired with lemon rice and sauteed Korean cucumber. When you mentioned your interest in it, he took note of the dish and garnered the ingredients for the day he knew you two would be together. This is the only thing he's been looking forward to all week.

You sauntered into the kitchen wearing one of his t-shirts and shorts. You've always liked wearing his clothes, but he especially likes it, thinking it makes you two feel closer. Plus, he thought it was cute when you'd hide half of your face and body in his shirts when sitting down. You rest your head against his back, taking in the smell of the seasonings invading the air. "Smells good," you hum, wrapping your arms around his torso. Caleb smiles at your embrace, wanting you to stay attached to him like this all the time.

"I should be done in the next hour or so," he informed you, sautéing the aromatics. He could tell how happy you were that he was making this dish for you. He took pleasure in doing things like this. He didn't mind it one bit, relishing in your happiness and the way your face lights up when he would take care of you. You're very independent, but take advantage of the way he wants to do everything for you. Sometimes, you wonder if you're taking advantage of poor Caleb, but he would always respond with how his only wish in life was to make yours as easy as possible.

"I was thinking we could also play Mario Ka-" You were cut off by the sound of a call trying to get your attention. Caleb already had a clue of who it could be. He puts down the knife he was using to split open the cucumbers and watched as you took the phone out of your pocket. It was Jenna, as always.

"Don't answer it," his low and dark tone caught you off guard for a split second. He knew Jenna was gearing up to swoop you away, once again, to go fight off wanderers they could take down by themselves without you. He didn't understand why they always needed to involve you in all these missions.

"Caleb, I have to," you remind him, letting go to answer the phone. As you turned around to pick up the call, you suddenly felt your body be immobilized. "Huh?" you grunt, trying to move but to no avail. Caleb walks in front of you, taking the phone from your hand. He was using his evol to keep you from moving and answering the phone. His arms swing over your shoulder, covering your mouth with his hand as he answers the phone.

"Hello?... Hi, Jenna... sorry she can't come to the phone," you muffled through his hands, trying to get him to stop. Your eyes demanding for him to let you go. "She's actually pretty sick... yeah, it must be a stomach bug. Poor thing can barely even speak," he smirks, looking down at you. "I'll tell her you hope she gets better. Bye now," he hangs up the phone and places it on the counter. He continues to keep you restrained but removed his hand so you can speak.

"Caleb! Why would you do that?!" You press as you watch him go to lock the front door and return to your side.

"I don't think you should go on that mission," concern and domianance coats his voice as he caresses your cheek with his thumb. You knew he hated you going on missions, but to basically keep you hostage irked you in so many ways.

"That's not really up to you," you struggle. Caleb's overprotectiveness was nothing new to you. He's always made it known that he would never let anything happen to you and would always protect you. You appreciate and even love that he feels this way, but it didn't mean he could stop you from making your own decisions. "Let me go." Your tone is firm as you stand your ground.

"Only if you promise to stay here and let your team handle everything," he attempts to bargain with you, hoping you'd give in easily. Your stubbornness was the real threat to him. He wouldn't put it past you to try and run out of the apartment as soon as he let you go, attempting to join your team in their fight against the wanderers terrorizing wherever Jenna wanted to send you off to.

"I can't leave my team behind," you retort, thinking about how your absence might affect them. They were strong, and you had faith in them, but that didn't mean you were okay with the idea of not being there when they might need you.

"They'll be fine," he assures you. "But I won't be if you come back hurt again. It took you days to recover last time, and now they're trying to send you back out there." His voice is tender, wrapped with a hint of frustration. The last thing he wanted to see was you covered in bandages with blood soaking through and bruises not caused by him decorating your body.

He wasn't wrong. You weren't fond of coming home all banged up, but you took this job to protect people, something you want to do. If that meant sometimes getting hurt, then so be it. "Caleb, I'm strong enough to protect myself. I don't need you treating me like glass. I'll always get a scratch here or there, but it comes with the territory, and I accepted that. You need to do the same." You didn't get this far by being fragile. Jenna put you on her team for a reason, and Caleb needed to start seeing you as someone strong and capable, not the little girl he would protect from bullies and danger 24/7.

He stayed silent, cupping your face and staring into your fiery eyes. He just wants to keep you like this. At his whim and safe from the cruelties of outside. Was that so wrong? Wanting to keep you locked away being only with him?

"You can't keep me from doing my job," you sigh, knowing he was just scared of losing you again. You both shared that fear, so she understood him well.

"I can try," his assertion not wavering, standing strong in his goal to keep you here. "You're not leaving. You're going to eat dinner, and we're going to watch the movie like we planned, okay?" All he could think about was how this interruption was ruining this time meant for you two to be alone.

You were silent, your frustration consuming you as you stared at him with narrow eyes. You knew trying to run off would be futile. He looks the most determined you’ve ever seen him. Jenna already thinks you're sick, so what's the point? After another few seconds of staring each other down, you give in. "Fine," reluctance infuses your words, knowing he wouldn't back down. He drops his evol, and you move your shoulders around, relaxing your body.

At the dinner table, you weren't talkative like usual. Your attention was on the food, not looking up at Caleb once. You were too upset to properly enjoy the meal. Normally, you'd be showering him with compliments as you stuffed your face from happiness. At this moment, you were picking at the food, taking small bites as you worried about your team, wondering how the mission was going.

Caleb stabbed his plate, picking up a piece of the oyster on his fork, watching you ignore him. "I'm doing this to keep you safe," he suddenly says. You didn't look up, pushing a slice of cucumber in your mouth. He could even make cucumber taste amazing. You keep the praise to yourself, listening to him attempt to make you understand why he did what he did. "It drives me crazy when you're risking your life for others. Doing it back to back too often is insane." He grips his fork, which begins to bend slightly from his strength. "You can really hurt yourself if you keep pushing your body like this. I wouldn't forgive myself for letting you go out there to get hurt."

Still, you refused to acknowledge him, pushing the rest of your food around. As the silence continued, the sound of your phone receiving a message echoed. You checked the notification and saw it was from Tara, hoping you got well, while also informing you that the mission was a success and everyone was fine. That message made you smile for the first time since you sat down.

"I'm assuming you received good news and everyone's limbs are intact. Happy now?" You frown at his comment. You hope he didn't think you would forgive him easily because everyone was fine.

"Yeah, it's good to know I can stop feeling guilty for worrying about my teammates when I should've been there for them!" You hiss, standing up abruptly and marching into the bedroom, slamming the door behind you.

Caleb stays at the dinner table, not touching his food anymore from a loss of appetite. He didn't like it when you got like this. It made his heart crumble when you'd give him the cold shoulder and shut him out. All he wants is to be near you and make you happy. Now you were pissed and shutting him out. His worst fear, right below losing you forever. You were scary in this state, going from being sweet and loving to an eruption of anger.

You stayed in the room, covering yourself with the shirt you wore. holding your phone inches from your face as you caught up with your teammates. You heard Caleb leave the apartment a few minutes after you got up from the table. Curiosity about where he ran off to did creep around your mind, but you were still annoyed at his behavior. When you checked in with the last member, you felt better than earlier, knowing everyone got out without being heavily injured. Even if Tara confirmed this with you earlier, it still didn't feel right not checking in with them.

A knock at the bedroom door interrupts your scrolling through your Moment feed. You close the screen as you watch the door slowly open, a small, plushed brown bear poking it's head through the crack.

"Caleb wanted to say he was sorry and that he misses you. Can he come in?" a high-pitched voice, you assume coming from Caleb, chirps. You couldn't help the small smirk that danced on your lips. You stifle it as you respond. "You can come in".

Caleb's large body pushes through the door, holding the bear as he approaches your side of the bed with the peace offering. "I went to the arcade and saw this little guy," he explains as he holds the bear out for you. You take the gift, examining its little face and soft fur. "Bears are cute and cuddly, but we know they're ferocious when provoked."

"You calling me a bear?" your brows raise in amusement at his comment.

"Absolutely," his response makes you chuckle, almost forgetting why you were mad at him in the first place. You shove your face in the back of the plushies head as you took in how it smelt like Caleb already. He watches you indulge in the bear, looking more peaceful than before.

"I'm sorry," he finally says, sitting beside you. His hand travels to your blanket-covered legs, giving them a small squeeze. "I shouldn't have lied to Jenna and stopped you from going on the mission". You raise your head, listening to what he had to say. " I...I was just scared. I didn't want to see you get hurt again. I was selfish, not wanting you to disappear for hours while I would be here alone without you while you missed dinner and the movie." His voice was infused with an apologetic tone laced in sadness. You could tell he was just worried and wanted to do whatever he could to keep you protected.

You run your hand over his. "I want you to have more faith in me and my abilities to protect myself". His heart jumps at your touch and the softness in your voice. "I know me being a hunter is worrisome for you, but you have to believe that I'll be okay."

"I do have faith in you. I just can't stop thinking about what would happen if something goes wrong. If a wanderer hurt you or someone else did, I'd go crazy." His grip becomes tighter at the thought. You squeeze his hand to show him that you were there with him and not off getting hurt, trying to bring him back to the present.

"I can't promise I'll never get hurt, and I'll always be in the best condition, but no matter what, I'll always come back to you. That I can promise." He wants to say; How do you know you'll always come back? , but he didn't want to dwell on that thought when you were touching and looking at him with so much promise and affection in your eyes. He didn't want his worries to ruin this moment. Instead, he leaned in and planted a kiss on your lips. It started off soft and innocent but transformed deeper, filled with yearning.

"You promise?" he questioned, breaking the kiss to look at you as he cupped your face, not wanting to ever let go of it.

"I promise I'll always come back to your side," you whisper, leaning back in to continue the kiss.

Heavy breathing and whimpers flooded the silent room. Your face contorted in pleasure as Caleb's fingers worked their way inside of you, pumping at a rhythmic but swift pace, watching how you took his fingers perfectly, coating them in your wet heat. His lips found that delicate spot on your neck as he nibbled and sucked on it, drawing out those sweet moans he loved hearing from your lips. "You sound so cute like this, baby," he comments in a dark, sensual tone. "I wanna hear more." His thumb joins in on the fun, circling over your throbbing, sensitive pearl, sending waves of pleasure through your body. Your body jolts and twitches as you cry out for him.

"Caleb! fuck...feels so good," you mewl into his hair, gripping his shoulder tightly, nails digging into his skin leaving behind crescent marks. His fingers could feel your walls tightened around them, signaling how close you were.

"That's it. Cum all over my fingers, pretty. Be a good girl for me, okay? Let me take care of you". He moans into your neck, feeling how hard he was getting from the sounds you were making and the tightness of your cunt sucking him in. His movements mixed with his words, encouraged your peak to shoot through your body, cumming all over his fingers. He slows down, drawing out your orgasm before bringing his fingers to his mouth, tasting you on his fingers.

"You taste so sweet," he coos, cleaning his fingers off as if he was desperate to get every last bit into his mouth. "Let me taste you some more," he whispers darkly before dropping his head between your legs. You let out a soft gasp as he connects his mouth to your soaking pussy, wasting no time to lap up your juices and shove the same fingers he just licked clean, right back inside. The combination pushes you further into your pleasure. He's relentless in his goal to drive you crazy. He sucks on your sensitive nub, humming in delight as you lose your words, spilling out whimpers and cries from how he was ruining you. Your fingers found his head and began grasping at his dark locks, pulling at them from the stimulation engulfing your body. He groans in satisfaction, loving when you got handsy like this. "Harder," he commands in a low groan. It didn't take much for you to tug on his hair even more. He made sure of it when he spread your legs wider, giving him the change to fuck his fingers in deeper.

"Caleb!" you call out, your voice soft and trembling. "I'm...ah~', your squealing elicits a wicked chuckle from his throat. "No, no. I can't, I can't." Your face twists as you lose confidence in your ability to cum again for him.

"Yes, you can," he growls, picking up his pace as he continues sucking your clit as your hips buck into his mouth. His fingers curl up into you, hitting that perfect spot that makes your back arch. "You can do it. I wanna taste you cum all over my mouth" he sucks harder on her clit causing a high pitched whine to spill from her lips "Just one more time. Please, baby? I'll make you feel so good, I promise" he pleads for you to let yourself cum on his mouth. You whimper and buck your hips as your release finds you once again, dripping all over his lips as he hums in satisfaction. "Fuck... your such a good girl for me". He finishes lapping up your juices as if he was licking a plate clean.

Your chest rises and falls as you catch your breath, watching him push one leg back to your chest. He wasn't done yet; he couldn't be satisfied until he was buried deep inside of you. He lines his throbbing cock between your legs, rubbing his tip up and down your wet folds. "You want more of me, pretty girl?" he purrs, trying to hold back from slamming into you the way he wants.

You look at him with pleading eyes, nodding feverishly as you bring your arms up to wrap around his neck, wanting the same thing that was clouding his mind. He drops his head down to your ear, gripping your hip tightly as he nibbles and licks your lobe. A shiver infiltrates your body, going down your spine, causing you to push yourself up into him.

"Come on, use your words, princess," he insists, pushing his teasing cock between your folds just enough to make you groan in impatience.

" Please, Caleb. I need you," you whine. He drops down to your tits, playing with one while he sucked the nipple of the other, nibbling just enough to make your legs kick and wrap around him from the sensation.

" What do you need, hm?" he smirks, wanting to hear you beg some more. "You need my cock fucking this cute little pussy? you want me to ruin you, baby?" his voice was dark and tainted with lust as he twisted your nipple. " Cause I'll fucking ruin you if you want."

"Yes," you breathe, followed by a small whine. "I need you to fuck me so badly." Your plea doesn't become lost on him. He pushes himself into you, groaning from feeling how tight you were around his tip.

"Oh fuck!" he grunts, pushing further into you, watching the way your mouth part and eyes flutter. Once he saw you'd taken most of him, he pulls back slowly and shoves himself back in, evoking a loud cry from you that he soon began to devour, moaning into your mouth as his hips thrust into you. his movements were hungry, wanting his cock to be the only thing you could feel. He breaks the kiss, looking down at you watching how your tits bounced against your chest, gripping your hips tightly pushing them back onto him. "You look so pretty like this, baby. Do you like how I feel?"

You could barely speak, feeling too consumed by him stretching you out. You bit your lips, stifling your cries as your body succumbed to the warm heat spreading through you.

"Answer me, princess," he thrusts into you harder, making you gasp and whine as you grip the side of the bed.

" Yes!" You wail. " Love it so much...please... need more," you pant, catching his purple eyes that have darkened from his craving. He drops into the crook of your neck, lifting your hips up to give him more leverage. He slams into you erratically, the sound of your skin meeting repeatedly dancing in the air, mixing with moans and grunts trickling from both of your lips as the headboard crashes into the wall behind you.

"Wanna stay like this forever" he groans, using his finger to rub circles around your clit, adding more intensity to your body. "Fuck! Wanna always be buried in this tight pussy. Wanna feel you like this all the time." he expresses his desires, occasionally letting out a small whimper from how you were clenching around him. "Never wanna leave you. Never." His thrusts turn sharper as each word escapes him. You feel a drop of water meeting your collarbone, sparking confusion. You look down at him, lifting his head to meet your face. Tears were prickling the corner of his eyes as he looked at you with emotions and yearning flooding his gaze. "Please don't leave me," he grovels, continuing his sloppy movements inside of you.

"I won't," you mutter, kissing his forehead softly. You couldn't help but think of how cute he looked like this. So desperate for her that it brought him to tears.

"Say it," he begs, feeling himself getting closer. "Say you'll never leave me. Say you'll always be here. I need to hear you say it...please." He bites your shoulder, scrunching up his face as his balls tighten, ready to give you all of him. You mewl from his bite, a mixture of pain and pleasure taking over you.

" I'll never leave you, I promise! I promise!" your cries swamp his mind as he finds himself shooting his hot cum deep inside of you, letting your voice permeate his mind. His release is thrust deeper inside as his hips slow down, refusing to pull out. He looks down at himself inside of you movingly slowly, taking in the white ring around the base of his cock, as streaks of his cum drips down your inner thighs.

You wrap your arms around his neck, bringing his attention to your lips. Your kiss is soft and saturated with affection. You could tell he's been worried about this for so long. The thought of you leaving one day, always floating and haunting him in the back of his mind.

"I'm gonna hold you to that promise," he murmurs, catching his breath as he crashes on top of you, ensuring he didn't suffocate his precious girl. With his eyes closed, his fingers drew patterns on your warm stomach.

"And I'll make sure to always keep it." You kiss the top of his head, pulling him in closer as you pet his soft head, showing that you would never let go.

[jiminomenon]

what is jimin’s reaction to assistant yn threatening to quit?

from my series: the devil wears prada

the penthouse was silent—eerily so, considering the shouting match that had just taken place. the air between them was thick, charged with lingering frustration and unspoken words. jimin stood in the middle of the living room, arms crossed, expression locked in a stubborn scowl. y/n was a few feet away, breathing heavily, fists clenched at her sides.

neither of them had meant for it to escalate like this. it started with something minor—an argument over jimin’s impossible demands, her bratty attitude, the way she acted like y/n was hers to boss around twenty-four-seven. but then, words were thrown like knives, sharp and cutting.

and then y/n snapped.

“maybe i should just quit, then!”

the words ripped through the space between them. jimin stiffened instantly, her brows drawing together.

“what?” her voice was dangerously quiet.

y/n exhaled sharply, still fueled by frustration. “if you’re just gonna keep treating me like this, maybe i should just leave, huh? find another job where i’m actually respected.”

jimin scoffed, but there was a hint of uncertainty in her voice. “you wouldn’t dare.”

“why not?” y/n challenged, eyes blazing. “give me one good reason why i shouldn’t.”

jimin opened her mouth, but for once in her life, she had no comeback. no smug remarks, no bratty retorts. because the idea of y/n actually leaving—actually walking away—felt like a punch to the gut.

her jaw tightened. “you’re being dramatic.”

y/n let out a bitter laugh. “of course you’d say that.”

jimin hated this. hated the way y/n looked at her right now—like she was tired of her, like she was done.

“you’re not quitting,” jimin said firmly, like it was a fact, like she refused to acknowledge the possibility.

“and why not?”

“because—” jimin’s voice faltered. she wanted to say because i need you—because she couldn’t imagine her life without y/n constantly by her side, keeping her in check, understanding her in ways no one else did.

but that wasn’t how she worked. she didn’t admit things like that. she didn’t let people know how much they mattered.

“because i said so,” she settled on instead.

y/n’s expression darkened. “you don’t own me, jimin.”

“i never said i did.”

“but you act like it!”

the silence that followed was suffocating.

jimin hated the thought of y/n leaving, but she also hated feeling like this—out of control, vulnerable, on the verge of losing something she refused to name.

so she did what she did best.

she walked away.

but before she could fully disappear into her bedroom, y/n’s voice cut through the air.

“you don’t even care, do you?”

jimin froze.

“if i left, it wouldn’t even matter to you, right?” y/n’s voice was quieter now, but still laced with hurt. “you’d just find someone else to boss around.”

something snapped inside jimin. she turned around, storming back toward y/n, eyes burning with something unreadable.

“it would matter,” she said, voice low. “it would matter a lot.”

y/n blinked.

jimin exhaled sharply, running a hand through her hair, frustrated—at y/n, at herself, at the entire situation.

“you think i don’t care?” jimin continued, tone softer now but still firm. “you think i’d just let you go that easily?”

y/n didn’t respond.

jimin sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “i’m sorry, alright?”

y/n’s brows shot up. “what?”

jimin groaned. “don’t make me say it again.”

y/n stared at her, searching for any sign of insincerity—but, for once, jimin actually meant it.

a small smirk tugged at y/n’s lips. “wow. never thought i’d hear those words come out of your mouth.”

jimin rolled her eyes, crossing her arms. “don’t get used to it.”

y/n chuckled, shaking her head. her frustration wasn’t completely gone, but… jimin had apologized. and for someone as stubborn as her, that was a huge deal.

“you’re impossible,” y/n muttered.

jimin smirked. “and yet, here you are. still not quitting.”

y/n sighed dramatically. “unfortunately.”

but there was a warmth in her eyes now, and jimin—though she’d never say it out loud—felt like she could finally breathe again.

[danny-with-a-y]

Danny breaks up with him (I’m going with Dick) and he shows up that night to a family dinner.

“Remember that boyfriend all of you were fawning over and saying he might be the one? He just broke up with me because he thought I was cheating on him with Nightwing and the only way I could refute it was by revealing my identity and thus your’s as well. I guess I value my family’s secrets over the best thing to happen to me in years because he’s never going to want to talk to me again!”

Almost everyone goes to console Dick as best they can, trying (and failing) to tell him it’s going to be okay without outright telling Dick he did a good thing by ruining his relationship.

Damian stays back and most assume he’s having trouble emotionally processing the situation but no.

Once when Danny was staying at the manor and was helping Damian with his pets, Cujo burst through the wall and knocked Danny over. After explaining Cujo being a ghost dog and getting a good response regarding ghosts, on impulse Danny revealed being a halfa and ex vigilante.

Damian swore on his family’s name that he would never tell anyone.

But with the current predicament, now Damian has to somehow lead Danny and Dick to each other’s secrets without outright telling them the truth.

DPxDC story where Danny is dating a batkid, it's funniest with Dick in my mind but it can be whoever, and he ends up drawing the very incorrect conclusion that batkid is cheating on him with their vigilante persona. He calls them out for it and batkid is frantically trying to convince him it's not true without revealing that they actually are the vigilante but is struggling because Danny actually has some really good points? And they can't just tell him because it's not just their secret, the entire family would be outed, but Danny is the best boyfriend they've ever had and they really don't want to lose him and the truth is probably the only thing that would be able to counter all of Danny's arguments.

[emsdevs]

Be Okay

Bear and Bug AU 🐻🐞

a/n: this got incredibly long 🧍‍♀️ 3.5 k words and 7 pages on google docs later... here is the next part of Bear and Bug!! I hope you guys enjoy it!! Also I posted this the other day as well but just because this is the last part of the main "story" in this au does NOT mean it's over!! I wanna keep Bear and Bug going as long as you all will let me!! So pls feel free to send in any requests, thoughts, or questions you have about the universe!! once again, i hope y'all enjoy this one because I enjoyed writing it!

masterlist | NHL Masterlists | Bear and Bug Masterlist

“Hey,” you stared at Jack, unsure where to go from here. You can’t take your eyes off of your best friend, but you can hear Trevor, Alex, and Cole moving around behind you in order to give the two of you some privacy. It was silent for a long time, but you knew this was a conversation that needed to happen, not just for you two. You weren’t sure what exactly had been happening at the lake house while you were gone, but you doubted it was anything good. You knew Quinn was blaming Jack, and the last you knew, Luke was as angry with you as Jack was. You figured that whenever you decided to return, the tension would be tenfold what it was when you left.

Finally, Jack breaks the silence, “You came back.” You could see the slightest bit of relief on his face, mixed with a lot of regret.

“Yeah, Alex talked me into it,” you’d never felt this awkward around Jack. You almost felt unsure, of yourself, of what to say, of where to go from where you are. It was unnatural for the two of you.

“We really need to talk,” he sounds worried, and your heart drops. You can feel it. This is it. This is where your friendship with Jack ends. This is the last time you’ll see him. It’s the last time you’ll see Quinn, Luke, Cole, Trevor, Alex, Ellen, Jim. Your life is about to go downhill.

“Yeah,” you sigh, “yeah, you’re right.” You reluctantly move to sit near him on the couch. He sits back down as well, leaving plenty of space between the two of you. 

“So,” he begins, rubbing his hands on his pants to rid them of the sweat. 

~~

Trevor, Cole, and Alex had taken it upon themselves to search for Quinn and Luke, not wanting them to accidentally interrupt the conversation you were currently having with Jack downstairs. After not finding them anywhere down there, the three boys made their way upstairs. Trevor checked Quinn’s room, finding nothing, while Alex checked Luke’s, finding the same. Just as they were about to give up, assuming the two of them must’ve gone somewhere, Cole makes the decision to check your room, just in case. There, he finds Quinn curled up on your bed, cuddling into one of your pillows, and Luke nestled into a large beanbag chair you had in the corner of your room. The three boys share a look, silently deciding to at least wake up Quinn so that he’s aware of what’s going on.

“Quinn. Q. Wake up, bud,” Trevor was whisper-yelling, trying to wake Quinn up but also let Luke sleep.

Soon, Quinn began to stir, giving the three boys a confused look before his brain caught up, “Where is Bug?” He wastes no time. He wants you, not them. No, he needs you. 

“She’s downstairs, but you can’t go to her right now,” Trevor knows he’s probably the last person in the house that Quinn would want to listen to, so he looks over his shoulder toward the other two boys for help.

“What do you mean? Does she not wanna see me?”

“She’s talking things through with Jack right now,” Cole steps in, “We all know whatever happens between you two will depend on how her conversation with Jack goes. You gotta let them talk it out before trying to fix things between you.”

“Then why even wake me up at all?” Quinn was more miserable now than before. You were in the same town as him, in the same building. You were just downstairs, and he still couldn’t go to you. The boys should’ve just let him sleep.

“We just wanted you to know what’s going on. We know how you feel about her. We want everything to work out between you two, okay? She’s been miserable the past few weeks,” Cole has hated seeing you so down. You were always bright and sunny, always meeting his permanent smile with an even brighter one. You were the light of everyone’s life, and somehow your light was blown out in minutes. It felt like wandering around in darkness for all of the boys. They needed you to keep them going, so they can see what’s ahead of them, what they could accomplish. Without your light, everything was dull for all of them.

“She’s been miserable?” Quinn felt his chest somehow cave in even further than it already had. He felt empty inside, but now it’s just a tightness taking up his entire chest, like someone squeezing him, trapping him.

“Yeah, man. She’s just been crying and moping. It’s taken so much effort to get her to eat any real meals too. She misses all three of you guys, but I know even just one conversation with you would’ve helped,” Cole stared at his lap as he talked. You had almost been a shell of yourself without your three favorite boys, and that scared Cole. He’d never seen you like that, and he didn’t want to see you like that ever again.

“Oh, god. I knew I should’ve reached out. I just,” Quinn sniffled, the tears welling up again, “I just didn’t think she’d wanna hear from me. I mean, when she… when she walked out,” he cut himself off. He was fully crying now, which he would usually never do in front of any of the boys, but he didn’t care right now. 

“Don’t blame yourself, bro. She thought the same thing about you. It took all three of us all morning to talk her into coming back here. She was blaming herself. She never hated you. Promise,” Alex was speaking softly to Quinn now, hoping to help console someone he considered an older brother. The four boys sat there, worry for you clear on all of their faces. They couldn’t hear what you and Jack were saying downstairs, but that doesn’t mean they weren’t wondering what the state of all of their relationships with you would be after today.

~~

“So, uh, first of all, I wanna say I’m sorry, and I swear we’ll circle back around to it later, but first I feel like I need to actually listen to what you were trying to tell me three weeks ago. Tell me about you and Quinn. I’m all ears,” he gives a tight smile, and although you’re a little weary, you begin to tell him.

“Oh- okay, um. Nothing happened on purpose. We got really close that first year I was at UMich while you were with the National Development team. It was nothing serious then. It was just nice to have someone on campus who really knew us. When he left for Van in second semester, we called each other a lot. That’s when the nicknames started. It kept going like that until the summer, but after you got drafted, you and I decided to live up the summer with each other. I guess Quinn felt a little neglected or jealous or whatever. That’s why he was so short with everyone then, especially me. I went back to school that fall so worried that I had somehow done something wrong. He still wasn’t talking to me, but I didn’t know why it hurt so badly then. Toward the end of October, the Canucks were playing the Red Wings in Detroit. After the game, Quinn came to campus, and we argued for a while. But he ended up telling me that he was falling in love with me, and I felt the same way about him. We worked on things together for a while and ended up deciding to give us a shot. We didn’t wanna freak anyone out or cause drama or get anyone excited if it wasn’t gonna work, so we decided to keep it to ourselves for a while. It was just supposed to be a long distance thing, but we both struggled with that. I went to visit him once over Christmas break and over spring break, and he came to spend All-Star break with me. I need you to know that I felt horrible hiding it from everyone, mainly you. I felt so guilty for so long, and I couldn’t wait for the summer so that I could finally tell you. We knew it would be better to tell everyone in person, especially after how long we waited to mention it. I didn’t mean to mess anything up between you and your brothers or between you and me. If you want me and Quinn to end things for good, I understand that, and I would do that if it meant the three of you would be on good terms again,” you finally stop talking. Tears are streaming down your face now, and although you haven’t been able to look at him, you’re sure Jack looks similar. There’s a pit in your stomach, and you’re still worried about where this conversation might lead you and Jack.

“I should have listened to that story a long time ago, and I don’t want you to end things with Quinn, okay?” he can feel his heart breaking at the sadness on your face.

“But Jack-” 

“No. I’m serious. You both were so happy together, and I’m so sorry I ruined that. You’ve sacrificed so much for me throughout our lives that I couldn’t even begin to count it all. I overreacted, like a lot. I was only thinking about myself, and I’ve realized just how often I’ve done that now. It’s a little weird for me, yeah, and of course, I wish you had told me sooner. But I understand now that you had valid reasons, and the only thing I should’ve done is support you. I’ve never been good at sharing you, but I think it’s time I start. I love you, Bug. You’re my best friend, and it’s time I start treating you like it,” he takes a deep breath. He can see the hope in your eyes now and the relief surrounding it. Maybe this would work out for the two of you after all. 

“Jack, no. Please don’t feel bad. I should have told you. You were going through such a difficult time, and I made it ten times worse. I’m so sorry, Jacky,” you place a hand on his leg, almost as if he’d be able to feel how sorry you felt through the contact.

“I’m serious, Bug. I want you both to be happy. It’ll be a lot to get used to at first, but I’ll get over it,” he’s looking at you so earnestly, but if you’re honest, you didn’t hear much past the first sentence.

“You’ve been calling me Bug?” you’re sure you probably look shell-shocked or something. He hated that nickname just a few weeks ago, probably because it was from Quinn. Now, though, he’s using it. That alone is enough to prove his acceptance of your relationship with his brother.

“Oh-” he’s surprised that’s your answer, “yeah, I uh, I used it a decent amount over the past few weeks kinda sarcastically, but I, um, I guess it stuck? I don’t know. It suits you.”

“Thank you,” you’re smiling now. It’s not as bright as it would normally be, but it’s a smile nonetheless. “Thank you so much, Jacky. I love you,” you spring forward, bringing him into a hug. He hugs you back just as tightly, glad to have his best friend back.

Soon, he pulls back and starts speaking again, “Go find Quinn, Bugger. He needs you.”

“Thanks, J,” you press a kiss to his cheek before standing up to go find Quinn, “We’ll hang out later, okay? Promise.”

“Sounds good,” as he watched you walk away, Jack felt a weight lift off of his shoulders. Everything will be okay between the two of you. The guilt doesn’t disappear completely, though. If he had just heard you out in the first place, nobody would’ve gone through this emotional stress.

~~

You went straight for your room. You didn’t really have a reason. You could just tell that’s where Quinn would be. What you didn’t expect was to also see Trevor, Cole, and Alex with tears streaming down their faces and Luke who looks like he’s just woken up. You stand there, shocked and dejected. You’re the reason they feel like this. Maybe you should call things off with Quinn anyway. Things were so much easier before you two got closer. 

They stare at you with similar looks. It’s obvious they want to know what just happened between you and Jack, but that’s just something Jack will have to deal with. You need to talk with Quinn as soon as possible. 

“Can I talk to Quinn? Alone?” you whisper.

“Yes! Yeah, of course. C’mon guys, let’s go,” Cole is the one to get the other boys up and out of your room. They each gave you a stiff but supportive smile on their way out. Luke touched your shoulder for a moment as he walked out, giving you an apologetic look, letting you that he was no longer angry with you. That lifted some of the weight off your shoulders, but for now, you needed to focus on figuring things out with Quinn.

“How are you?” you’re hesitant, but you know he won’t be the one to start the conversation.

“How do think I am?” his words cut into you, sharper than any knife you’ve ever held. This won’t be an easy conversation.

“Quinn, I-”

“No, Bug, you don’t get to do that. You left. You left me. You left Jack. You left Luke. For what? To let us suffer? You thought we were all better off without you here, but we’ve all been miserable,” you can see the hurt in his eyes. It traps you, wraps around you like a barbed wire fence, leaving cuts and bruises all over. 

“Bear, I promi-”

“Just stop. I mean did you seriously think that was the best way to go about this? Running away? We could’ve talked this out three weeks ago! Instead, you had to run off to who knows where and do who knows what while I sat here worried sick about you. God, Bug, it only made things worse. Can’t you see that?” he was standing now, pacing back and forth as he spoke. He wasn’t about to hold back. No, he was done with that. He had to get his feelings out, even if it was the last thing he did.

“Will you let me speak?” you had to raise your voice so he’d listen to you, or even hear you at all. “I realize now that it wasn’t the best option. I know that, okay? But I did need to get away, from the house, from the stress, from my emotions. I needed to leave, so I knew how I felt about all of this. You can’t be mad at me for that. If I had stayed it would’ve only gotten worse. I would’ve just been stuck in my anger, and none of this ever would’ve gotten resolved,” you were breathing heavily now. There had to be some way to make him see your side of this.

“Well you could’ve come back sooner,” his voice was quieter now, but it hadn’t lost any of its venom.

“I know that! God! Will you please just stop trying to make me feel bad? I feel horrible! Does that make you happy? I’ve been losing my mind for three weeks, thinking I ruined your family! I’ve been miserable, Quinn, so don’t sit here and tell me how bad I should feel!”

“No,” something in his eyes changes. He’s looking at you differently now, and you’re not sure if that’s good or bad.

“What do you mean, no?” you can’t help the bite that comes with your words. 

“No, that doesn’t make me happy. I’m sorry, Bug. You’re right. You finally chose yourself, and I shouldn’t be sitting here making you feel bad for it. You deserve to do what’s best for you, but please, don’t ever think I’d be happy about you feeling like that. That’s the last thing I want. I just… I was hurt. It seemed so easy for you to walk away. I’ve barely left your room since you left. I sleep in here most of the time. It, uh, made me feel close to you I guess,” he wasn’t meeting your eyes now. Hearing how he truly felt shattered your heart. You had hurt him like that. 

“Oh, Quinn. I’m so, so sorry, but you have to know that was nowhere near easy for me,” you step toward him, holding his right hand in your left and moving your right to cup his cheek. “I hated walking away from you, from all of you, but leaving you there on the dock left a hole in my chest that I haven’t been able to fill. I need you as much as you need me.” 

“I shouldn’t have come at you like that, Bug. I’m sorry. I was just scared to lose you. For good,” he moves his hands to hold your waist and leans his forehead down to rest against yours.

“I’m not leaving, okay? Never again. It’s me and you,” you give him a reassuring smile before pulling him into a hug.

“What about Jack? He’s most of the reason we’re in this mess in the first place,” he squeezes you a little tighter when you attempt to pull away, so you continue hugging him.

“He’s okay with this. He apologized, even wanted to know how we got together and everything. We’re okay, and he’s good with us being… well… us,” you feel Quinn breathe a sigh of relief, and suddenly, the weight on your shoulders has completely lifted and the hole in your chest has been filled with the only thing that could possibly fill it: Quinn.

“Oh thank god. Just you and me now?”

“Just you and me,” you nod, “except I’m sure Jack and Luke will want you to share me sometimes,” you let out a laugh, feeling much lighter than you did when you walked in.

“I guess I can handle that,” he pulls back, and you’re worried the moment is over. The second he’s far enough away, though, he’s pulling you in for a kiss you’ve been waiting three weeks for.

~~

“Hey, man,” Trevor let his sentence hang in the air as he and the other three boys approached where Jack sat on the couch.

“Hey,” Jack looks up at them as they enter the room.

“So, uhhh, did you fix things with Bug?” Luke is the first one to bring it up. He’s tired of all the tension, and he wants you back in his life.

“Yeah, um, I think… I think we’re all good. I- I mean it’s not exactly like it used to be… before… well you know. But, um, I mean we talked it out, and I think we’ll be okay,” Jack still feels the weight of the future of your friendship resting on his shoulders, but after your conversation, it’s slowly been lifting. He has high hopes that everything will turn out alright.

Luke sighs in relief, “Finally. I just want everything to be normal again.”

“Wait. What about her and Quinn? Are you… like… chill with that?” Trevor once again chimes in.

“Dude,” Cole sighs.

“Bro…” Alex trails off at the same time.

“What? We were all thinking it,” Trevor says the last part under his breath.

Jack can’t help but breathe out a laugh, “I told her to go for it. They make each other happy. I should’ve never been mad about that.”

“What do you guys think they’re talking about up there?” Luke speaks in a small voice. 

“Are they just talking?” Trevor snorts out a laugh.

“Ew, bro. I do not need to think about that,” Jack might be cool with you dating his brother, but he definitely doesn’t want to think about what you two might get up to when you’re alone. 

“We just talked, guys,” you and Quinn find your way into the living room at the wrong time.

“C’mon, guys, we’ve only been back together for like five minutes,” you chime in. 

“Bug!” Luke makes his way to you in two strides, needing to have you near him.

“Lukey!” you give Luke the best hug you can manage, dropping Quinn’s hand in favor of hugging Luke.

“So everything is good now? Like you’re back? Summer can be normal? We can be normal?” Luke is rambling, but he doesn’t care. He needs his family to be okay again.

“Yeah, bud. We’re all gonna be okay,” Quinn reaches to ruffle Luke’s hair before joining in on the hug. He motions for Jack to come join, and soon all four of you are feeling like nothing had happened at all. 

Trevor decides for himself to join in, not one to enjoy feeling left out. He drags Cole and Alex with him, not wanting them to be left out either. Now, you’re all one big, happy family, in your own little weird way. It’s not perfect, and not everything is completely okay. Somehow, though, you all know you’ll make it through it. It’ll turn out alright.

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