#Shin did not get involved :/

[jessicas-pi]

evil space dad and his evil space daughter

theyre on an evil space family road trip to Jotunheim

I don't have a little ficlet to go along with this art, but I do have some story/plot outline ramble stuff!

so. without further ado,

IDEAS!

Skoll and Hati are actual characters from Norse mythology, so Baylan Skoll and Shin Hati are both very fun and somewhat difficult to fit into the Rebelvengers AU! Here's what I've got worked out: Baylan is an Asgardian who was once well-known for both his wisdom and his swordsmanship, but over time, he was slowly consumed by fear over the foretold fall of Asgard in Ragnarok, and set out to prevent it. Shin is a Light Elf who he finds and begins training—more on that in a bit.

I'm going back and forth on if I want them to have killed the mythological wolves Skoll and Hati (who were said to devour the sun and moon during Ragnarok) as part of Baylan's plan for preventing Ragnarok, and have Skoll and Hati be the wolf skins they're wearing, OR if I want Baylan and Shin to BE the Skoll and Hati figures in the Rebelvengers AU, with the wolf-skins as just references to the OG mythology. Either way, there'll be a kind of becoming-the-future-you-tried-to-prevent thing, and Baylan and Shin unintentionally start the ball rolling on Rebelvengers Ragnarok in the end. (Despite my Evil Space Family jokes, they are more sympathetic characters here than in canon—misled heroes, rather than outright antagonists. Might give them redemption arcs, idk.)

but, BACK TO PLOT STUFF!

When a pair of Jotun warriors shatter the Bifrost in a last-ditch attempt to keep the lieutenant of an extragalactic warlord from invading Asgard and obtaining the Tesseract as part of his evil plan to destroy half of all life in the universe (it's a long story), the resulting shockwave throws many Asgardian warriors, including Baylan—who had returned to Asgard to assist in the battle against said extragalactic warlord—into the abyss. But instead of plummeting into nothingness, the energy from the explosion ends up sending him hurling along one of the branches of the World Tree, and eventually leaves him stranded on the dead planet Svartalfheim.

Soon after, he finds Shin, an orphaned Light Elf girl who was also cast onto Svartalfheim by the Big Bifrost Kaboom, and trains her, becoming someone she looks up to as a father. They manage to scrape out their survival for five long years, before they eventually stumble upon the five-thousand-year-old wreck of an Asgardian prisoner transport. They explore it, and piece together its story. The crew was killed in the crash—as evidenced by the empty heaps of armor, the warriors' bones long turned to dust—and the stasis pods containing Dark Elf prisoners taken in the Battle of Svartalfheim had all been smashed.

All, that is, save one.

They open the last pod and find that the prisoner within is alive. Awakened from her hibernation, this Dark Elf briefly attempts to murderize them both until they talk her down and convince her they have a common goal—getting off this planet. She agrees to an alliance, and they begin planning a way to escape Svartalfheim, combining his knowledge of seiðrcraft and her ability to walk between worlds to escape.

But her goals are much deeper—and much more sinister—than Baylan and Shin could imagine...

to be continued

---

also here's a version without the blue tint. just because.

[kairando12]

Degesu May Not Be the Villain.

I honestly don't think Degesu will be bad for long. Though he despises Shin, I think it may be because Shin actually escaped the demon realm, leaving them behind. It said that he was "too ambitious and didn't get along with other Glinds," and that's why he stayed in the demon realm, but I think he stayed out of either resentment or fear. In the first episode of Daima, you can see how jumpy he is of Gomah and even Dr. Arinsu.

Even Gomah is scared. I think they know that Arinsu is basically a rouge scientist, and they're scared of what she can do. Either that or it's because siblings are... scary.

-

EDIT: I THINK IT'S CONFIRMED.

The new episode was just dropped and Degesu seemed downright TERRIFIED of having to disable Warp-sama. I don't know why. Maybe because Degesu now knows he'll never be able to leave the demon realm, or maybe he secretly wanting the Z fighters to win, but is regretful for having to trap them in.

-

EDIT 2: Thanks to @nightkibbles06 for pointing out this very insane detail after the outro of episode 15 (I skipped the outro so I had no idea :\)

Degesu is an absolute MENACE! This changes so much for the plot. I thought he didn't want to work with Gomah, but now this? But it doesn't seem right since they wanted him alive. Perhaps Degesu is betraying Gomah!? Though it doesn't look like he's on the Z Fighters' side. I'm so excited to see how Shin gets involved in this tbh.

Degesu has shown us his dark side. Get ready folks, cause episode 16 will be a roller-coaster for all of us.

~

EDIT 3: Bruh

No extra words needed. Just bruh

[girlgenius1111]

responsibility

you are reluctant to share the problems you are having at home with your teammates. your teammates just think you're an irresponsible teen. it takes an emergency for things to come to light. barça x reader, though this first part is much more platonic alexia & reader. more team involvement to come. cw: some violence / abuse. a lot on grief and the loss of a parent. this is mostly desperately sad angst with some comfort sprinkled throughout.

------

Your father was drunk. Hammered, in fact. You’d seen the empty bottles scattered around the kitchen when you walked in from training, telling you that he’d gotten an early start today. You were on your guard as soon as you’d noticed that, but you only pushed your dresser in front of your door when he began to pound on it, and yell. Some of the things he was saying were completely unintelligible, while others were completely clear. What you could understand was not anything new. He rambled about your mom, and how much he missed her. About how horrible it was that she’d died and left him stuck with you. How you drained away all his money playing football, and how he was tired of how ungrateful you were. 

Normally, he didn’t do anything. Normally, the yelling was the extent of it. Sometimes, though it went farther. He’d grab you, or push you, kick you out of the house. When that happened, you’d go to a friend's place and sleep there, only coming back in the morning when you knew he’d be passed out. 

Only very rarely did he actually hurt you. The occurrences were rare enough that you could pretend it didn’t happen. You covered the bruises up with makeup if you had too, and ignored them. You told people they came from training until you started to believe it yourself. 

Tonight felt different, though, and you knew why. It was your parents anniversary. Any faint reminder of your mother only seemed to inflame your father’s hatred for you. He’d never wanted a kid, but your mom had, and that man had worshiped the ground she walked on. So, your parents had you, and you enjoyed a happy little life for 15 years. And then your mom got sick, and then got sicker. 

You thought losing her would be the hardest thing you’d ever do, but as you sat on the floor of your bedroom, you decided that your father hating you because your mother was dead was somehow 100x more painful. He hurled abuse at you through the door, and when the dresser tipped away from it, crashing loudly onto the ground, you were more afraid than you’d ever been in your life. 

You barely had the forethought to grab your phone and slip it into your pocket before your father shoved his way into the room, a half full bottle of vodka sloshing in his hand. He had the look on his face that haunts your nightmares. The detached one that told you things were about to hurt. You braced yourself as he raised the bottle, hoping it would hit the window and break it open, instead of hitting you. Instead of breaking you open. 

The ground came crashing up towards you as you dropped, trying to avoid the bottle. The world went black around you, and you weren’t sure if it was from the bottle, or from the force of your head hitting the ground. 

The darkness only came as a relief. 

------

You were at Alexia’s house before you had even really decided where you were going. Your forehead was bleeding a bit, and your head was throbbing. Your shin had gotten cut, too, on the way out your window. Or maybe it had gotten cut as you’d broken the glass of the window in order to climb out. 

Realistically, you knew you should call your lawyer, who would call your case worker. Who was really the only one with the power to get you out of that house. Neither of those people made you feel safe though, not like your teammates did. Or used to. Things were fuzzy, now, blurred, and you weren’t really sure if they still cared for you. If they would still feel safe. You hoped they would, because you weren’t sure what else you would do if they didn’t. 

It didn’t occur to you that someone other than Alexia would answer the door, but then her girlfriend was staring at you, mouth agape, and you wondered why you hadn’t gone to Ingrid and Mapi’s, or Marta and Caro’s. You didn't know Olga well, weren’t even sure if she’d recognize you. She surprised you, though, turning and shouting for Alexia as her hands found yours and she gently guided you in through the door.

Your captain’s voice echoed back through the house, missing the urgency Olga had tried to convey, and you could hear her leisurely steps coming from upstairs. Olga tried to bring you into the living room, but you stopped, shaking your head. 

“Blood.” You mumbled. “I’ll get blood on the furniture.” 

Olga was looking at you with something that wasn’t pity, or sympathy. It was anger, far from gentle anger, but her voice was soft when she spoke. 

“Don’t worry about that. Come sit down, Ale is coming.” 

Numbly, you let her guide you onto the couch. Alexia caught your eye as she entered the room, her face changing from mild curiosity to one of horror. 

“Oh my god,” she whispered. You looked away from her, the expression on her face forcing emotions to bubble up inside of you. Emotions you didn’t want to cope with, didn’t want to feel at all. 

Olga walked over to her girlfriend, murmuring a few words, before she exited the room. Alexia took a deep breath, before she came to kneel in front of you. 

“Pequeña? Are you with me?” She spoke more softly than you’d ever heard. 

“Sorry. I know it’s late.” 

“No apologies, please.” She reached up to move your hair out of your face, and get a better look at the cut across your cheek that appeared to have stopped bleeding. You flinched away from her violently, and every hope she’d had that this had been an accident flew out the window. She pulled her hand away,  trying to keep her voice low and soothing.“You are okay. You are safe. You are with me, and I am not going to let anything else happen to you.” 

Nodding somewhat hesitantly, you allowed her to inspect your face, crying out when her hand brushed across the bump on your head. 

“What is it? What hurts?” 

“Fell. Hit my head on the floor really hard.” You told her, every word feeling like cotton in your mouth as you tried your best to communicate. 

“Did you lose consciousness?” Olga asked, sitting on the couch next to you, handing a towel to her girlfriend. Alexia pressed it to the cut on your shin, which was still bleeding. 

“Maybe? Don’t really remember.” 

The two other women exchanged looks, before they seemed to come to some kind of silent agreement. 

“You might have a concussion, pequeña, and I think this needs stitches. I am going to take you to the hospital, okay?” 

You considered. The hospital meant police, meant questions you didn’t want to answer. But you’d come here for help, and Alexia was just trying to give that to you. 

“Okay.” You agreed, allowing them both to help you back to your feet. Before you could take a step, though, Alexia was tugging you into the softest hug you’d ever experienced, and it took all of your strength not to crumble completely. 

“Thank you.” You mumbled shakily, voice muffled by Alexia’s t-shirt. She rubbed your back gently, using the hug to take a moment to pull herself together. 

“You don’t need to thank me. I’ve got you, okay? Everything is going to be fine.” 

You doubted that promise, all the way to the hospital. As you answered questions you were sure would make things not fine, as you got stitched up and scanned. When they took pictures of your injuries like you were some kind of victim. Especially when you told them your dad hadn’t meant it, and they exchanged disbelieving looks. It didn’t really feel like everything would be fine. It felt like everything was falling apart. 

------

“Alexia, what the hell happened to her?” Olga asked, keeping her voice low so that you wouldn’t hear from where you were sitting on the lounge in the other room. 

The blonde shook her head, face twisted with worry. “I don’t know. They wouldn’t let me in the room when they took her statement, and she hasn’t really been talking. It was her father, I know that.”

“Jesus.” Olga sighed, pulling out what she needed to make you something to eat. “They let you bring her here, though?”

Her girlfriend shifted uncomfortably. “Yeah. I… I signed a bunch of forms to be declared her temporary guardian. But, amor, I can take her to my Mami’s, she wouldn’t mind. This is not your responsibility, and I wouldn’t want to-”

“Do not be ridiculous. She’ll stay right here. Ingrid and Mapi are nearby, so many of your other teammates too. She needs them, and she needs you. Of course she’ll stay.” Olga said incredulously, as if she’d never considered another option. 

Alexia’s face softened before she all but tackled her girlfriend in a hug. “I love you.” 

Olga held her tight, trying to provide some reassurance. “I love you too. Now go try and see if she feels like talking. I’ll bring her something to eat in a second.” 

You startled when Alexia took her seat next to you, before trying to muster up a smile. It felt weak, and pulled at the cut on your cheek, but it was the best you could do. 

“Your caseworker texted me. They’ve arrested your father.” Alexia said carefully, watching as a myriad of emotions flashed across your face. “So tomorrow, we can go and get your stuff, and move you into the guest room.” 

That felt too good to be true, there was just no way. No way that Alexia would want you to move in with her. Why would she want that?

 “I can’t… I can’t go home?” You asked. You didn’t want to, and you did. You craved your home, but you also craved safety, and those two things were not congruent. 

Why would you want to go back there? Alexia wondered. She had to remind herself that this was more complicated than she could even comprehend, and she had no business questioning how you were feeling. It was complicated, of course it was. “No. Not by yourself, and you aren’t going back there when your father gets home, either. Not if I have anything to say about it.” 

“I can stay by myself.” You argued weakly. “You don’t have to let me move in. You don’t have to do that, I can be responsible, I can take care of myself.” 

Your captain shut her eyes tightly, guilt flooding through her. You were thinking of Alexia’s harsh words to you a few days ago, and she could tell. 

If there was anything you despised, it was being late. It was the fourth time in the past two weeks, too, and though you hadn’t really been scolded yet, you knew it was coming. Sure enough, as you practically ran through the building towards the locker room, you saw Alexia and Irene waiting by the door. Seemingly, for you. 

Your text warning them that you’d be late apparently hadn’t done anything to reduce their anger. 

You slowed down as you got to them, trying to ignore the anxiety that rose in you at the idea of being in trouble. 

“Hi.” You said meekly, stopping in front of them as they glared at you. 

“What time does training start?” Alexia asked, her voice cold. 

“10:00.” You mumbled. 

“And that means on the pitch at 10, all ready to go, yes?” 

“Yeah.” 

“What time is it right now?” Irene chimed in. 

Your face was burning with embarrassment, your eyes trained on your shoes as you refused to look up at your captains.  “10:20.” 

“This is the fourth time in two weeks.” Irene sighed. “Where were you?”

“I… I slept through my alarm.” You lied. There was no way you could admit the truth. What you were doing was your business, it was private. And you knew that if your captains found out what was going on, they would involve themselves. And you didn’t want to burden them.

Alexia’s face hardened. She felt like you were lying, but she had no evidence to back that up. And even so, she couldn’t understand why you would be lying. Teenagers were weird, she reminded herself. And difficult. 

“That is unacceptable. You are 17, yes, but you are on this team. You are expected to act responsible and prove that you care to be here. Showing up late does not prove to us that this is a priority for you. You are benched. Until you can get your act together.” 

This wasn’t the first issue they’d been having with you. You’d been distracted and distant recently. Zoning out during training, skipping team bonding. You were quieter than normal, too, which really came off as you being annoyed by your teammates. Which you weren’t, not at all. You were just trying to get through. To get up every morning like everything was mine and make it to training. To get everything done that you needed, so that you could get out of your house. Where you would go when that happened, you weren't exactly sure. With the way your captains were looking at you right now, you knew you couldn’t go to them. They were upset, rightfully so. You just couldn’t do anything right. 

“Ale-”

“No. I am disappointed in you. I expect you to be more responsible. Now go run your extra laps.” 

With a sigh and a small nod, you headed off, completely missing the slightly concerned expressions that your captains were exchanging. You just weren't yourself, and they weren’t sure what to do about that. 

Alexia hadn’t understood, then. She knew that something was off, but she didn’t know it was this bad. She’d scolded you for being irresponsible, and she knew now that was unfair. And that you’d very much taken it to heart. You’d let her help you before, when your body was in shock, everything in fight or flight mode. 

Now, you were withdrawing, just as you’d been doing for weeks. This time, though, Alexia didn’t think it was just teenage carelessness anymore, or a rebellious phase. She could deal with her guilt for not understanding, for getting everything so wrong, later. For now, she had to make sure that you didn’t completely shut down. 

“Listen to me. I didn’t mean any of what I said before. I didn’t know what was going on, but I do now. So let me help, okay? You don’t need to worry about anything. Just let me take care of it all.” She took your hand in hers, feeling it tremble in her grip. You looked conflicted, and though there were tears in your eyes, all your captain could do was look at the jagged cut on your cheek. It wasn’t deep enough to need stitches, but she was pretty sure it would scar. A reminder, forever, of what someone who was supposed to love you had done. 

All she wanted to do was make it better. “Tell me how I can help.” She asked, doing her best not to beg. 

“I… um. I have a lawyer. I’ve been trying to get emancipated, I should call him.” 

“I’ll call him tomorrow.” Alexia said quickly, watching the cautious vulnerability dawning across your face. 

Olga walked in then, bringing both you and Alexia some food. You both ate in silence, not even the TV on to fill the void, before you leaned back into the couch and pulled your knees to your chest. You were safe, you knew you were safe, but you didn’t feel it. You didn’t feel much of anything, honestly. Your head hurt from the concussion, and the stitches in your shin pulled with every movement.

 The physical pain, you could deal with. It was the threat of feeling that terrified you. You felt a pang of emotion every time you looked at Alexia, though, when you saw the concern on her face, so you tried your best not to look at her. 

Your captain and her girlfriend exchanged looks, and Olga mumbled something about going to get you some ice cream, before she grabbed her wallet and keys and left the house. 

Within a minute, Alexia was turning her whole body towards you, completely attentive. You didn’t want her attention, but you had it. 

“What happened tonight, nena?” 

You knew the question that was coming, yet still, you were wholly unprepared for it. You’d answered the questions earlier from the police, but that had been different. They had been strangers. They’d been sympathetic but professional. As much as you’d been trying to downplay what had happened in your head, you knew Alexia would be horrified to hear what had happened. And that would chip away at your very fragile belief that it hadn’t been that bad. 

“You can tell me. Whatever happened, you can tell me.”

You decided to give her as few details as possible. “He was really drunk. He gets like this sometimes.” 

“Violent?” Alexia asked bluntly. 

“Not always. Most of the time he just yells.” 

“But tonight? It was more than yelling?” She hated pushing you, but she needed to understand what had happened if she was going to be able to help. 

You took a shaky breath before responding. “Yeah. When I got home from training, he was already drunk, yelling at me.”

“Was he angry about something?”

“He’s always angry.” You dismissed. “Always. Ever since mom… he didn’t want me, not really. And now mom is gone and he’s stuck with me. I think he hates me. I mean, I know he does. He tells me all the time. That’s what he was yelling about. How much he hated me.” 

You sounded detached, which Alexia was sure wasn’t healthy, but she pressed on anyway, knowing that you needed to tell her what happened, and only then could she help.  “What happened then?” 

“He broke my bedroom door down and threw the bottle of vodka at me. I hit my head trying to dodge it, but I think it hit me anyway. I broke the window open and climbed out. And then… I don’t really remember. Then I was here.” You went through it blankly, as numbly as if it had happened to someone else. 

“Oh, nena.” Alexia sighed, truly incapable of understanding how someone could be so cruel to you. You were shaking again as you glanced up at your captain with watering eyes and a trembling lip. “Cariño, I am so sorry this happened.” 

You shrugged one shoulder, trying to keep your tears at bay, but your captain persisted. 

“You are safe now, do you understand? I will never let him hurt you again, ever.” 

This time, there was no response from you. 

“Nena, look at me.” Alexia pressed, her eyes wide as they met yours. “You are safe with me, I promise you.” 

You wanted to believe her, you really did. Trust was hard, though. Only harder now. If your father could hurt you and not feel any remorse, what was to say other people would feel differently? What’s to say you could trust anyone? 

Alexia could practically see you come to that conclusion. Your body tensed back up, you leaned away from her, and your face grew completely blank. She wondered if she hadn’t been so harsh the other day, if you’d still be so wary of her. It wasn’t complete distrust, because you’d shown up on her doorstep and that was something. You were trying to protect yourself. Alexia couldn’t blame you for being so afraid, she really couldn’t. 

“Thank you for letting me stay here.” You told her, unsure if your shaky voice was doing a very good job conveying just how grateful you were. “I know having a 17 year old disaster move into the house you share with your girlfriend probably wasn’t something you were hoping for-”

“If I had known what was going on, I would have gotten you out of there a very long time ago.” Alexia interrupted, cursing herself when you blanched and looked at her with wide eyes. 

“I don’t get it.” You mumbled after a second. “You don’t have to do this, do any of it. Why are you doing this for me?” 

Alexia wished you were joking, wished she couldn’t hear the genuine wonder in your voice that someone would go out of their way to help you. 

“Because I care about you.” Alexia said simply. “We all do, every single member of the team. And you are welcome here for as long as you want to stay here.”

“But Olga,”

“Olga would pick up every stray dog on the side of the road and bring it home if I let her. She doesn’t mind that you’re here.” 

“I’m not a stray dog.” 

“No, you aren’t. I was just pretty sure you’d think the dog to be worthy of a home. Just like I think you are.” 

It was a jarring thought. The realization that you did, indeed, think of a dog as more worthy of a home than you were was a shock to your system. You weren’t sure when you’d stopped being so angry, and started believing the words shouted at you, but somewhere along the way, you’d lost yourself. Without even realizing. 

Alexia continued. “If Olga had driven by you walking here, and had no idea who you were, she would have brought you home. She would have done exactly what she did earlier. That’s who she is. She’s happy to have you here, happy to help. Really, pequeña. I promise.” 

You nodded, the only acknowledgement you gave her that you’d registered what she said. “She’s been gone for a while, I thought she was just going to get ice cream?” 

Alexia smiled slightly, glancing away from you. “She’s been in the drive for 10 minutes, she wanted us to finish talking without any interruptions.” 

You frowned at her and your captain tensed, suddenly worried she shouldn’t have told you that. Worried that you’d wrench away from her and resist the help she and Olga were trying to give you. 

Instead, you looked at her like she was a bit stupid. “The ice cream is going to be melted, Ale.” 

The blonde relaxed back into the sofa, a huff of laughter falling from her lips. She’d forgotten how seriously you took your ice cream. It was difficult to mesh together the two versions of you in her mind; the one she knew that was happy and carefree, except when it came to the texture of your ice cream. And the one sitting in front of her, broken. 

“Well, do you want to talk more or-”

“If Olga walks in and my ice cream is melted, this night will really be ruined.” You deadpanned, more amused at the surprise on Ale’s face than you were at your own joke. You didn’t like how she’d been looking at you. Anything to break the tension, anything to distract from what had happened. 

The distraction didn’t last long, because your head was beginning to hurt and you were too exhausted to really hide your pain. The look of sympathy returned to Ale’s face, and to Olga’s, and it wasn’t long after you finished your ice cream that you were ushered up to bed.

If the universe was kind, a dreamless sleep would follow. You were beginning to think the universe was cruel.

------ 

You liked to think that your mom visited you in your dreams. Sometimes, they were good dreams. Warm and kind of fuzzy, but unquestionably filled with love. You found that the good dreams were the hardest to remember. The bad ones were the easiest, maybe because more often than not, they were memories. 

Of course, the dream you had almost as soon as you’d drifted off to sleep was a bad one. It was flashes of a day that made you sick to think about. It had been a week after the funeral, and you’d yet to realize that the father you’d grown up with was gone for good. Though, that realization would come soon. 

A few of your friends had insisted on taking you out to grab coffee. It had been agonizing, sitting and listening to them try to distract you. It was still wallowing time, you argued. You were allowed to lay in bed in a ball and cry for as long as you needed to. Grief wasn’t a process that could be rushed.

Of course, your father would try. The dream grew hazy as it continued, flashes of memories more than anything. Your arrival home from coffee. The realization that he was stuffing your mom’s stuff into garbage bags and boxes, labeled for donation or trash. You remembered the way your blood had boiled; fury rising that he was trying to erase her. As if that would make it any easier. 

You remembered the way you pushed him away from her closet, tears running down your face. Your voice had trembled as you’d cursed at him, begged him not to get rid of all her stuff. He’d cursed right back, pushed right back. Told you that he couldn’t live in a house so full of memories of her. The way he’d said it, implying that you were nothing more than a painful reminder of her. A weight had settled on your chest when your first instinct was to run for your mom, and tell her what your father had said. 

You couldn’t do that anymore. There was nowhere to run to. You pushed him again, and he pushed back again. You fell to the floor, looking up at him just in time to see how horrified he looked at himself. He looked down at you in complete horror, shocked at himself for what he’d done. He backed out of the room, repeating apologies over and over. 

That was one of the last glimpses of the father you’d known all your life that you’d had. And it would never not haunt you that you’d been the one to make things physical the first time. That made it your fault. All of it was your fault. 

The dream ended as it always did, with you grabbing what you could from the bags and the boxes, stuffing it all into your closet. It ended with you pulling on her favorite sweatshirt, the one she’d worn the most. It smelled like her perfume still, and you got under the covers of your bed, burying your nose in the fabric. You cried, and you pretended your mom was there with you, though she never would be again. 

You woke as you always did, face wet with tears, but this time with a horrible feeling in the pit of your stomach. You’d left all her stuff in the house. You’d come here without it, and you needed it. Needed it now, needed to be surrounded by her like you’d been on that day. 

It was with a blind dedication that you slipped out of Alexia’s guest bed, put some shoes on, and went out the front door. You couldn’t leave her stuff there. Not in the house that reeked of alcohol and hatred and sadness. 

------

Alexia was pretty sure she knew where you’d gone, even if she’d couldn’t understand why. When Olga shook her awake, though, and told her that she’d heard the front door shut, Alexia knew you’d fled. And she knew you’d gone back to that house. Back to the place you still considered home, somehow. As Alexia pulled into your driveway, she reminded herself that she couldn’t understand. Growing up, she’d only ever felt love in her house. She’d never been through what you’d been through, never felt anything but safe with her parents. So it didn’t make sense to her that you’d go back. Not when you’d been trying to get out in the first place. But it didn't’ need to make sense to her, because it made sense to you. And you were her only concern. 

The front door was unlocked, and Alexia opened it carefully; the last thing she wanted was to frighten you further. The house was dark and cold, and it smelled heavily of alcohol. She followed the only light she could see down the hall to what she assumed to be your bedroom. The door bore the marks of your fathers fists, the wood dented and peeling. 

Before she even stepped into the room, Alexia could hear you crying softly. You were neatly folding up clothes and putting them into a duffel bag. The precision with which you worked completely contrasted how disheveled you looked; each shirt and sweater folded as if it would disintegrate if you weren’t careful. 

Alexia paused in the doorway, not sure there was any way she could let you know she was here without scaring you. It seemed like you were lost in your head, regardless. Your face was set tightly, a grimace etched across it, but your hands trembled, and tears fell almost continuously. It was as if you were too emotional to keep your feelings at bay, but simultaneously felt too unsafe to really let go. Your despair leaked out like your tears did, a little bit at a time. 

Your captain wasn’t sure she’d ever seen someone look so haunted and so numb at the same time. 

“Pequeña?” She spoke as quietly and soothingly as she could, yet still, you jumped half a foot into the air, a fearful whimper escaping. “It’s okay, it’s just me. It’s just me, you’re okay.” 

“Ale.” You mumbled, recognizing your captain in front of you. It hadn’t even been a thought that Alexia would get up and come after you. The consequences of your actions seemed so far away, like you were just acting with no follow up. There was only the present, because if you thought too hard about there being a tomorrow, you weren’t sure you could survive it. 

“Hey.” Alexia cooed, taking tiny steps closer to you, moving like a snail. She sat down a safe distance away, looking curiously into the bag you were packing. You knew Alexia was wondering why you were here, and honestly, you were too. It had made sense, when you’d awoken from your nightmare and left her house. It didn’t make as much sense now. “What are you doing back here?” 

There was no accusation in her tone, no frustration or annoyance, yet still, you felt the need to explain yourself. “I woke up, and I just… I had to come get a few things.” 

Alexia didn’t point out that it was the middle of the night, and that certainly such a task could wait until the following day. She just nodded in understanding, even though she didn’t understand, and tried to think of another question to ask. One that wouldn’t be too much, but one that might get her some more answers. Because truly, your captain was at a complete loss on what to do here. 

“What did you need to get?” She asked casually. This was normal, she decided. She’d pretend this was normal, and maybe then, you’d talk. 

You were almost done packing the clothes. It was an odd assortment of items that Alexia had seen you place in the bag. Mostly t-shirts and sweatshirts. And she’d never seen you wear any of it before. 

You didn’t reply right away, picking up the last sweatshirt and pulling it on. It was faded, too big on you, and there was a hole in the sleeve, but your entire body relaxed once it was on. Not much, but a noticeable amount. “Just some clothes.” 

“I’ve never seen that sweatshirt before.” Alexia commented, a wave of sadness washing over her as she began to connect the dots. 

“Yeah, it’s- it was my mom’s.” You whispered. “I just really needed to get this stuff. Sorry for leaving without saying anything.” 

Alexia looked at you, seeing a younger version of herself. Wearing a shirt that was much too big on her to bed, convincing herself that if she inhaled deep enough, it would still smell like him. Even if she couldn’t quite remember what that scent even was. 

“That’s okay, nena, I’m not upset.” The blonde gazed out the window for a moment, noticing the sun peaking above the horizon. It was bathing the room in a soft golden glow, and she noticed for the first time the broken bottle on the floor. The rest of the room was warm and soft, very you, but that bottle seemed to mar the entire atmosphere. It was a stain, and Alexia understood, suddenly, why you needed the clothes. 

You wanted the sweatshirt for comfort, yes. But this room had probably been the last place in the house that had remained untouched from your father and his cruelties. And now it had been ruined, and you couldn’t bear the thought of your most favorite possessions remaining here. Especially when you’d left. 

You wrapped your arms around yourself and spoke quietly, almost as if you’d read Alexia’s mind. “This is all I really have left of her. He got rid of the rest of it but I managed to save some of her clothes. I… I just didn’t want to leave them behind.” 

Didn’t want to leave her behind. Not in the place that had turned into hell after she’d gone. 

You were trying to be strong, Alexia could tell. Jaw clenched, blinking hard. Wiping carelessly at the never ending stream of tears. Alexia remembered trying to be strong, too. How it hadn’t even been something she wanted, it was just something she did. 

“Tell me about your mom.” The request escaped without her permission, and she jerked her head in your direction fearfully, terrified that it had been too much. Your lips were turning up at the corners, though, just a bit. Tears still fell, but you did as she asked. 

“She was really funny. We had the same sense of humor, I think, so everything she found funny, I found funny. She’d tell a joke I was already thinking.” 

Alexia hummed, a gentle encouragement as she inched closer to you. You were smiling a bit more now, still in the part of remembering that didn’t yet hurt. 

“She always helped me with my homework after school, and she always tucked me in at night. Even when I was way too old for it.” 

You took a deep breath. It was overwhelming, the love you felt for her. It felt like love, but it also felt like grief. Hot, painful, lingering grief. Still, once you’d started, you didn’t want to stop. You didn’t want to ever stop remembering every good thing about her. 

“She used to watch videos of people explaining football strategies, so we could talk about them. Even when she was sick she still… still watched. She never missed a game, even when she was doing treatment. She’d sit in her car and watch from the parking lot if she had too, but she never missed a game. I was always the most important thing to her. She used to say that being my mom was the best thing she’d ever been, that she’d ever be.”

“She sounds like a really good mom.” Alexia’s hand was on the back of your head, combing delicately through your hair. It felt nice. Safe. 

“She was the best.” You choked out. “She gave the best hugs, and she told me she loved me everyday. And I really really miss her.” You tried to swallow the sob that threatened to force its way out, but you couldn’t. Your grief couldn’t be contained, not anymore. It was an almost unconscious movement, turning to bury your face in Alexia’s sweatshirt. Your body shook with cries, and your captain wrapped her arms around you tightly. As if she could hold you together. 

You appreciated Alexia, more than you would probably ever be able to express. For being so patient, for coming after you, for asking about your mom. For hugging you and holding you tightly as she promised that everything would be okay. But Alexia wasn’t the person you wanted. 

The blonde didn’t understand the first time you said it, your words muffled by the soft fabric of her sweatshirt. But the second time, she did, and it felt like her heart was plummeting out of her chest. 

“I want my mom, Ale,” you sobbed. “I just- I want my mom,” 

She felt your words in her soul, and in that moment she would have done anything to give you what you wanted. It didn’t work like that, though, and she knew that all too well. So, she rubbed your back and kissed the top of your head. She rocked you gently, and made promises. To herself, and to you. 

“I know, I know you do.” She soothed. “I’m so sorry, cariño. Everything is going to be okay. I’ve got you.” 

You only cried harder, and Alexia felt like crying too. 

Nothing felt okay. But Alexia had you, and you believed that. Or at least, you wanted to.

------

Well. Have a good night everyone. tell me if you notice any typos 🥺. also tell me if you enjoyed this because i am so incredibly unsure about it.

[strawmaerry]

gojo & megumi. | g. satoru

gojo satoru bringing home fushiguro megumi was something you did not anticipate of.

you were cooking a welcome home food for your menace, satoru, when he startled you with his teleportation and a frowning kid.

“hello to my prettiest girl, the love of my life, the light in the dar—”

you shushed him. “i thought you work as a sorcerer, never thought you would take kidnapping as a part time job.”

he pouted. he had the audacity to be offended. “excuse me?! how dare you accuse me of such blasphemous claim?”

you shrugged, used to his outrageous reactions. “well, you’re definitely the type of man that my mom warned me about. those guys who would entice you with candies just to get in a van?” you looked at him, up and down, “yup, that’s you.”

before he could answer, you heard a snicker from the kid. your lips slightly curled up before raising an eyebrow at your irritating (affectionately) boyfriend.

“oh,” he stupidly realized, “this is megumi, i’ve bought him from an auction.”

megumi kicked satoru’s shin and he pretended to be hurt. the spiky-haired boy dusted off the invisible particles on his clothes.

you snorted before going back to cooking dinner.

“so, tell me why you decided to change career that involves kidnapping children?”

“well, i wanted to practice on how to take care of a child when we decided to have one.”

you accidentally put your hand over the burning stove and satoru practically flies to you. he basically becomes a mother hen as he blows your hands.

“[name]! oh my god, what happened?”

you go to the sink to wash your hands as you blankly stare at your burning hands. oh man, you think your hearing is deteriorating. you’re hearing some things that are… impossible.

“satoru, you’re not funny.”

satoru, who has the most alabaster skin, pales. he’s hearing his government name. not ‘toru, baby, pretty boy, my husband.

“haha, pretty baby, what do you mean? i’m always funny. ha. ha.”

“don’t kid around like that. you know our job is…” you trail off, unable to continue the sentiment.

in a world where you attend more funerals than birthdays; you greet more corpse than people; having to work under those ungrateful elders, tomorrow is uncertainty, so you try to enjoy the present as much as you’re alive.

he seems confused for a moment before a dawning realization etches on his face. his eyes soften before wrapping his arms around your waist.

“i really wanna see you carry my babies, y’know? wanna see you round and full an—okay! i know we’re still not finish in school but whenever i see my future, i see you in it. i see us together. i see us forever and i want that. i don’t want to live in a life without your presence. you brought me so much joy if you weren’t crying right now, i would be on my knees begging for you to take me. make me your one and only. make me the happiest and luckiest man on earth because that’s my only purpose why i was born in this cruel, yet beautiful world. i live for you.”

tears run down on your cheeks as you hear satoru’s honest thoughts about his joke. oh my god, how did a simple joke turn into an almost-but-not-quite proposal?

you cradle his face between your hands and kiss his sweet, soft lips that utter nothing but devotion to you. you feel him smile against yours.

[little-annie]

How they got stuck sharing the only remaining bed in the Hopper-Byers family home when they came to visit, they'll never know. (It involved some meddling on both Robin's and Dustin's behalf….. and Joyce and Hopper and Jonathan and El and Will, and literally everyone else who thinks they just need to figure their shit out and get together already.)

But they did.

And Christ if they weren't pissy about it.

They were roommates for God's sake, they saw enough of each other as is. But noooo, they had to get stuck bunking with each other for the weekend too.

They'd began bickering almost immediately when they'd entered the room and saw the state of their situation.

“Fuck you.”

“Fuck you.”

“No, no. Fuck you Harrington. I'm older-’

“By like a year -”

“I'm older and my poor boy bones are brittle. I get the bed.”

“Poor boy bones.” Steve huffs to himself, taking one quick glance at Eddie and beginning to strip, hoping that if he gets into bed first they won't have to continue this argument.

Eddie catches on almost immediately, undoing his stupid handcuff belt buckle with little struggle and kicking himself out of his jeans so fast he nearly eats the edge of the dresser to his right. “You're young.” Eddie states while trying to catch his breath, “The floor will do you just fine.”

They're both down to their underwear in a matter of seconds. Belts clanking, denim dropping and fabric flying. Eddie in his boxers, Steve in his white briefs that he's sure he hears Eddie snicker at even in his apparent displeasure.

Soon enough they're both trying to climb into bed, pushing and shoving, throwing elbows when the other one kicks out a bony knee. Both scrambling to get under the covers and claim their right to the bed.

Pulling the lone pillow swiftly beneath his head, Eddie grumbles. “What are you doing?”

“Getting into bed.”

“It's a twin Harrington.”

“Yeah and my hips hurt.” Steve answers, driving an elbow with regrettable strength into Eddie's ribs as he continues to try to gain some purchase on the narrow bed. “I'm not sleeping on the floor.” He wiggles around some more, at the moment hoping Eddie might just fall off onto the floor. “Shove over.”

Maybe they can manage to share.

“It's a twin!” Squawks Eddie while bracing himself against the nightstand, pushing Steve back with cold feet to his shins.

“And give me some of the blankets.”

“There's only one pillow!”

“So share.”

Both huffing, wriggling around, pushing and shoving, pulling at the single blanket and the only pillow, they try to get comfy on their backs. Which won't happen because they can't fucking fit that way. The goddamn bed is too narrow and Eddie's bony ass everything is digging into Steve's side as he hangs with half of his ass off of the bed.

“Lay on your side.” Eddie grumbles with a shove.

“What? Why?”

“Because we don't fit like this, Princess. Roll onto your side.”

Ignoring how that nickname makes his cheeks flare in the moonlit room, Steve starts to roll over, leaning to his left and moving to put Eddie at his back. Maybe that way he'll actually get some peace and qui-

“Not like that!” Eddie all but screeches, shoving at Steve's back so hard he nearly falls off, "You want my dick pressed to your ass all night?”

Truthfully that doesn't sound as awful as Eddie's making it out to be. The prick. Steve thinks he has a rather nice ass and Eddie would only be so lucky.

“Well you want your dick pressed against my dick all night? That's the only other option, Munson.”

Eddie clenches his jaw, sighs dramatically and mutters something to himself that Steve's not quite able to catch, before he actually speaks, “Fine. Fine! Just roll over so you're facing me, but just keep your hips back.”

‘Keep your hips back,’ as if Steve would just roll over dick first and press himself right up against Eddie.

Steve tries and fails to muffle his irritated groan as he rolls over to where he's facing Eddie on the same flat pillow.

God they're close.

Noses nearly touching.

In his moment of bitterness and just pure irritation at the situation, Steve had forgotten how pretty Eddie was.

His eyes are so dark in the moonlight.

The rest of him blanketed in a hazy midnight blue, his freckles akin to a star speckled sky.

Steve could never get tired of this view.

“Better?” Steve whispers, trying and failing to ignore the flutter of butterflies in his stomach.

Eddie's eyes search his for what feels like aeons before he answers. “Fuck you.” There's no real heat to his words, tone more so matching Steve's as he smiles with a lopsided smirk.

Steve rolls his eyes, teasing, if only to see Eddie sputter, “Mmmm, I'll take a rain check on that.” He delights in Eddie's choked off gasp before he continues, “But I will warn you, I'm a cuddler.”

“Course you are.” Eddie grumbles, crossing his arms in front of his chest and closing his eyes with a flutter of his long dark lashes.

After a moment of quiet Steve takes a chance and presses his foot to Eddie's, soft beneath his sole, and so fucking cold.

Eddie doesn't pull away.

“G’ night.” He whispers instead, pressing his foot just a touch closer, the breath of his words falling against Steve's lips.

“Good night.”

—

The next morning they wake in a tangled mess.

It's hot and sweaty and they're physically stuck together at all points where naked skin meets.

Which is pretty much everywhere.

Eddie's one hand is in Steve's hair as if throughout the night he felt the need to play with it, and his other is so tightly grasped to Steve's bare waist it almost hurts.

His nose is otherwise buried in Steve's neck where he can hear Eddie's faint snores and is sure there's the wetness of drool lying along his clavicle.

It's all a little disgusting.

But also kind of wonderful.

His one arm is numb where it lies beneath Eddie's head.

Steve shuffles enough to separate at least some of their sweat damp skin, noticing in the same instant how where Eddie's plastered against his hip, he's also obviously hard.

So much so that when Steve looks down there's a damp spot in his underwear.

Oh.

Maybe he'll take that rain check sooner rather than later.

Eddie groans in his sleep, hot air breathed against Steve's neck as he rolls his hips and this time lets a soft moan escape.

Yep, definitely taking that rain check now.

Maybe they'll figure their shit out sooner than everyone had anticipated.

“Get off of me, I wanna suck your-”

😉 The End

[dckweed]

ROSIE!, alpha!simon riley x omega reader

in which captain price sends alpha simon on a much needed vacation to his secluded countryside cabin, but leaves out a most important detail- he has a live in omega caretaker to care for his little cabin when he’s away! and she’s the prettiest, sweetest little thing that simon ever did see..

warnings: alpha/omega universe, mentions/depictions of abuse, smut, pregnancy, kind of forced proximity?, ill add as i go...please note that i know NOTHING about COD but i am in love with the 141 guys and this has been rotting in my brain. abuse is depicted in this one right off the bat,ptsd/nightmares, panty sniffing, face sitting, over stim, biting, squirting, i think our wolf just hates us okay? because everytime i write her, she comes out so mean.

please click this link! each click helps me earn some extra money, as well as each person that clicks the link and signs up (its completely free, and takes 0 time), a completely harmless way to earn some extra cash that doesn't involve giving me any of your own!

happy new years :) feel free to send thots/ideas to my inbox for these babes (or even for the other 141 fellas)

series masterlist here.

PART THREE: hurts si’

“You dumb bitch, look what you did!” Glass clattered and a hand made contact with your face, causing something to drop from your hands as they flew to your face for protection, a whimper leaving your puckered lips as sharp shards scatter about the ground and imbed in the skin of your legs, stinging. “Are you fuckin’ dropping shit now? Huh?” Another blow, this one landing on your ear, causing it to ring and your eyes to blur for a moment as you wobbled on the balls of your feet, swaying from side to side. The man yelling at you was larger than you, older. His breath was hot and sour as he screamed in your face, his words sounding a million miles away as you tried to focus. What had you done this time? It wasn’t you that had knocked over the glass of water..you weren’t even near that side of the table..it was all your brother, all the boy who sat and watched as your father threatened to beat you black and blue again for something that you didn’t do. 

The ringing becomes too much, you fall to your knees and groan, head pounding and eyesight blurry, you barely notice the shards of whatever dish had fallen from your hands pushing further into the skin of your shins as you sink to the rough wood floor of the kitchen. 

“...OFF THE FUCKING FLOOR, OMEGA!” He screamed, your hearing seeming to come back around, or maybe he just bellowed loud enough to overpower the ringing..you shook violently, fear and pain ringing through your body as he grabbed you by the hair on your scalp, dragging you across the ground, pushing the sharp bits of glass deeper into your skin..you would have to go digging to get them out now..

“No!NO! Papa, Papa please!” Your voice was frantic, shrill eyes wide as they finally focused enough to comprehend where he was pulling you off to, the familiar dingey wooden door of your own personal hell hole coming into sight. You’d only just been allowed out after..you couldn’t even remember how long..long enough that the days blurred together and you couldn’t tell how many tomorrows had come and passed. “No! I’ll be good, i’ll be good!” You clawed at his arm above you, trying desperately to pry his alpha strength off of your head, kicking your legs in an effort to slow him down, to buy yourself enough time to talk him out of it. 

“There’s no such thing as a good Omega, you’re living proof!” He growls, throwing open the deadbolt to the door before swinging it open. The darkness awaiting you seemed thicker than usual. “You all deserve to be punished! To be hid, to be locked away and never looked at again! You deserve to be treated like the runts and vermin you fucking are! Your mother tricked me into thinking that she was sweet and innocent, that she needed me to protect her, to fill her with little alpha pups, and then she gave me you! And then you killed her when you breathed life and stole hers, and i saw you for what you are, nothing but a conniving, evil monster!” He held your hair tightly at the top of the stairs, forcing you to look up into his eyes as he ranted at you, for something that you didn’t even remember. Weren’t capable of remembering..

He raised you off of your feet and your eyes widened, a shrill plea leaving your chest “NO, NO! N-AHHGH!”

Simon lay in bed, hands balled into fists behind his head as he stared up at the ceiling, the moon dancing across it as it shined through his window, jaw clenched as he listened to you whimper and moan through the thin wall separating your room from his. His senses were on high alert, his wolf haywire in his mind. It took every ounce of self control he had not to jerk off to the smell of you, once he started he knows he probably wouldn’t ever stop, not until he’d had the real thing and not just the thought of you. He knew that his cock was probably going to be perpetually hard now, never going to go down until he’d stuffed the meaty length of it into your sweet smelling cunt, not until he’d fucked it good and stuffed it full of his pups would he even be able to think like a normal alpha again. 

The smell of you was intoxicating. It flooded his senses and over powered his mind. You were sweet smelling, decadent he could even say. He had noted it before you’d been in heat but now that you were, even in just the beginning stages, it was more powerful, more endearing and mouth watering. It was enough to make a man forget how to behave. It was enough to drive an Alpha into delirium, to trigger his own rut. 

He grit his teeth, squeezing his eyes shut as he tried to think about anything other than you, shoving a knife into someone's chest, pizza and a cheap pint, johnny- no! Not that scottish prick! His wolf howled and he grunted, fisting his own hair just to feel something to keep himself grounded. Johnny wouldn’t shut his trap, his intrusive thoughts and his lack of a thought process allowing him to just blurt out how good you smelled, he could just hear his voice in his head, could hear him “Bet that lit’le cunt is nie’ n warm, wet ‘n sloppy, eh LT? Smells like a fookin’ dream..” He was just shooting up in bed with a growl at imaginary Johnny when your scream pierced his ears, his bedroom door slammed against the wall, ricocheting as he busted through yours after flying down the hallway, practically ripping it off of its hinges. He looked around wildly, looking for any sign of an intruder, ready to fight off some stray Alpha or Beta that might have followed your pheromones from town in hopes of mating and breeding you against your will in the middle of the night. 

He saw nobody, saw nothing but you thrashing wildly in the middle of the king sized bed you had built your nest upon, spotting the hoodie he’d shrugged off of his body and laid in the middle of your spot while you took a hot bath earlier in the day, satisfied that he could leave you alone with something to scent to help calm you down. He had paid enough attention in Omega anatomy class to remember that that was something that you guys craved, and just the scent of a strong Alpha could help ease the pain wrought by your heat. You were in pain, he decided, that was why you had screamed as you had, there was nothing for him to protect you from, nothing for him to keep you safe from in your vulnerable state. 

He had just wrestled his wolf back from the forefront of his mind and was slowly backing away from your bed and back towards the hallway when you let loose another scream, this one was one of pure terror. You were sat straight up in bed, his fight or flight triggered, he throws himself at you, wrapping his arms around you as he throws you back down, tucking you into his body as he looses a mean growl, baring his teeth as he looked all about, trying to find what you were so terrified of. 

“No!NO!” You screamed, thrashing and bucking under him, your eyes squeezed shut. He looks down at you, wolf going crazy. “Help her! HELP HER YOU BIG DUMB OAF CAN’T YOU SEE SHE’S SCARED?!” His wolf whimpered, howled, only making Simon’s heart race more as he tried to form a coherent thought. 

“Rosie..” He grunted, patting your face lightly,  still clutching you to his body as best as he could, legs on either side of you as he hovered over you on the bed. “Rosie, lovie, wake up-wake up, lovie..” He patted your face, again, a little harder this time and your eyes finally fluttered, looking up at him. 

“S’mon?” You whispered, hands clutching the chest of his tank top from where your arms were trapped between the both of your bodies, unable to move with his weight pressed against yours. “Had a bad dream..”

He sighs, head leaning down so his forehead is touching yours, noses brushing against each other. “I know, lovie, i know.” He says after a moment, shifting his body so that you’re laying on top of him, using his chest and shoulders as a pillow, legs entwined with his own. All thoughts of breeding you gone and out the window for now, his only thought and instinct to keep you safe. “Not goin’ anywhere okay? Gonna stay right 

‘ere an’ keep you safe..” 

And he did, letting you doze back off on top of him, his mind still reeling as he tried to imagine exactly what had happened in that head of yours to make you scream with such terror, to have you so scared that he could feel your body shaking. He wanted, no he needed to know so that he could make sure you were never scared of it again. So he could take it and obliterate it for ever making you feel anything but safe under the same roof as him. 

Eventually, his wolf and his mind calmed down and he was able to lull himself into a light sleep of his own, his arms not moving from around you. 

You wake to a warmth spread from your head to your toes, a dampness to your skin that had you wriggling out of your sleep shirt with eyes closed still, not registering the soft body beneath you until you went to plop your head back down and it didn’t sink into the soft down of your pillow, but the scraggly hairs of a muscular, wide chest that was poking out of the top of a gray tank top, the kind a man would wear under his tshirt if he wanted the extra layers, or sleep in, you supposed. You knew immediately that it was Simon and as if on cue your wolf fought her way to to the front of your mind, your aching cunt clenching around nothing but your sopping panties as you realized that your mound wasn’t too far from where his cock would be, your leg thrown over his waist, held there by one of his large, meaty hands gripping your equally meaty thigh. 

“Look at him, our pretty Alpha..so handsome, so strong..” She wasn’t wrong, he was pretty. His skull mask was nowhere to be found, and to say it was strange to not see it adorned on his face would be an understatement, but it wasn’t unwelcomed. “Want to give him pretty little pups, let him fill us, please, please, please! I’ll be so good! I promise!” You groan, trying to shut her voice out, though it was hard to do. At this stage, your mind belonged to her, this was her time, and you had always let it be, but you hadn’t had an Alpha home during your heat in..awhile. 

You let your eyes roam over his face for a while, failing to notice the way his breathing changes as he fully wakes up, aware of your gaze. He has such a strong jaw, a strong, handsome face, sweet looking even, you would say, despite the scars lingering along his pale skin. Your lips quiver at the realization that someone had probably put them there and that thought alone made you want to cry because how could anyone ever want to hurt this perfect specimen of an alpha? His nose is terribly crooked, as if it had been broken on more than one occasion..you would know, yours had been broken at least three times that you remembered. You wanted to sit on it. To feel his nose brush against your aching, throbbing clit, to feel his scruff of a beard that had grown over night against the apex of your thighs, leaving beard burn as he fucks you with his wet, strong tongue. 

You don’t notice that your hips are bucking against the side of his hard stomach, don’t realize you’ve whimpered until his hand squeezes your thigh, fingers marking the skin from the way that he grips at it, brown eyes suddenly shot open and staring you down, full lips tugged into a wicked smirk. 

“Easy there, babygirl..” He grunts, voice thick and raspy after not having used it for a bit. 

You pout at his words,  wolf whimpering. The desperate noise leaves your throat and you feel no shame as your hips buck again, needing the friction. 

“Hurts Si’..” You whimper, not giving a damn to ask why he was in your bed in the first place. You remembered having a nightmare, remembered him vaguely waking you from it. You assume he had stayed to make sure you were okay. “Need you..need you to help me, Simon..please?” 

He closes his own eyes at your words, fingers digging further into the fat of your thigh, as if he’s trying to control himself. You don’t want him to, you want hm to lose control, to use you in any way he saw fit, you wouldn’t fight him, would be as pliable for him as you could possibly be, you just wanted to breathe in his scent, suck his cock into your aching pussy for a bit..like a chew toy for the wolf taking over your mind. 

You can’t help but to giggle for a second at the thought, you couldn’t help but to think that his cock was probably big enough to pose as a chew toy anyway, no way you could get your mouth all the way around it if he let suck it. 

“Rosi-”

“Simonnn” You preen, pouting at him and you can just feel the resolve break. Oh! What a good Alpha, not making us beg! “Please help me..hurts..need you so bad..please!”

A growl bubbles in his chest and you could how in excitement knowing you’ve won, “Fine!” Knowing he’s about to bully his cock into your cunt until he’s had his fill, until you’re crying and begging him for more, until he’s knocked you up good with one of his little blonde pups- “But i’m not going to fuck you,” A whine as you pout and you watch his eyes widen, watch him fight with himself for a second as he shakes his head, as if shutting up that voice that you  know he hears too. “No-don’t do that babygirl..You listen to me now.” The sternness in his voice catches your attention, your cunt pulsing at the way it radiates through you. “I want to fuck you so bad, lovie, want to sit you on my cock for fuckin’ hours, believe me, it’s all ‘ve been able to think about since I walked into that garden..but I can’t do it when you’re not all the way there, when you’re delirious in heat..” A pout that damn near breaks him, that definitely breaks the wolf in his head, howling ricocheting in his ears as he tries to talk. “I’m going to fuck you, lovie, but not until your heat is done, yeah? Don’t worry babygirl, m’still gonna help you though, know it hurts, baby, know you need my help..” 

You hadn’t realized he had bunched the waistband of your panties in his hand until then, letting go of your thigh to pull at the seam of the fabric, ripping it apart and tugging it from your mound. You watch with wide eyes as he brings the soaked cotton to his crooked nose, closing his eyes as he takes a long sniff, a deep growl radiating through the room as he opens his eyes, staring straight into yours as his fist clenches around your panties. 

“Cm’ere, babygirl.” He grunts, pulling at you so that you’re sitting directly on his chest, pussy leaving a wet swatch in his chest hairs as he squeezes both hips. “Wanna sit on my face, don’t you? Saw the way you were looking at me, know just what you were thinkin’ huh?” You nod your head, but make no move to actually do it. You’re so big? What if you suffocate him? Bitch shut the fuck up and let him eat your fucking pussy, you whiney brat! He’s a big boy, he can fucking take it! You had the random thought that your wolf might actually try and kill you if you didn’t let her enjoy this, if you didn’t swallow your self conscious thoughts and let this glorious man eat you for breakfast. “Aht-aht, stop thinking whatever it is you’re thinking-” He pulls your hips so you’re sitting just below his neck now, your hands immediately catching yourself on the headboard, preventing him from pulling you up past his chin. He narrows his eyes at you, you see him shake his head, the firm line his plus lips are set in. A warning to behave and let him be in control. “Don’t-you want this, don’t you..want me to help you? Need me to make it better?” 

“Pleas-ungh” In a show of pure strength, he has you fully sat on his face before you can finish the word, warm, thick tongue devouring you as swirls it around your clit, you can’t help the rock of your hips or the way your head throws back as you moan when his tongue teases your aching whole, nose rubbing against your clit the way you imagined it when you tilted your hips. 

He groans beneath you, hands splayed on your bare ass cheeks, holding you in place as he grips so hard you’re sure his fingerprints will be permanently indented into your skin, not that you think you’d really mind it. “That’s it lovie, ride my face..”

You didn’t have to be told twice now that you had started. The way his tongue worked you open, the way he held you in place but still let you rut your hips against his face, making a slimy, glistening mess..his stubble brushed against your inner thighs, keeping you grounded from coming on the spot, though it doesn’t last for long. He’s got you coming within moments, skilled tongue going between clit and your pulsing hole, giving you what you needed as you rocked back and forth, taking what you wanted. “Tha’s a good girl, lovie..give me one more?” 

You’re not sure how many ‘one more’s’ you give him, but by the time he’s got you on the brink of over stimulation, he’s got his whole tongue buried in your hole, his teeth nibbling at your clit as you buck and tremble, tears brimming your eyes as you grip his hair in each hand, tugging harshly. His hands pushed up your shirt, exposing your soft, pudgy belly to him as he squeezed your tits in each of his large palms, fingers playing with your nipples as he fucks you with his mouth, cries and whimpers leaving your own. 

“Si-oh-mm, please! I can-so good, feel’s so good!” You’re a babbling mess, cheeks red as your thighs shake, still clenched around his head. He’s been at it for almost an hour and you swear he’s barely come up from air, he’s barely let you move off of his face for more than a moment, his mouth leaving your cunt only to praise you or bite into meat of your thighs, leaving a harsh imprint of his mouth, a reminder that this is in fact real. You’re on the brink of another when you realize that this one feels different, feels almost painful, even. “Si-mo-n, si-ugh-umf..hur-urts…” You screech out, swatting at the top of his head, he only grunts, pulling you down farther onto his mouth, his hands going back to grip your tighs, leaving your precious tits unattended as he does, holding you there as he brings another harsh bite to your clit, sending you over the edge. “Simon!” You shout, vision going blurry as something snaps in your lower belly, a gush of fluid coming from your cunt that has your cheeks heating as Simon groans out below you, lapping it up as quickly as it comes out, slurping even as he continues to make out with your pussy as you slouch against the headboard, being sure to avoid your overly sensitive clit as he does, leaving open mouthed kisses to your mound that honestly could have had you coming again if you weren’t entirely fucked out just from his mouth. How many was that? Five? Six? 

“You okay up there babygirl?” His voice is thick and raspy, sexy as he peeks up at you from between your still shaking legs. All you can do is nod meekly, unsure of what to say, mind oddly quiet as you pant out breaths, trying to come down from such an epic high. “Squirted al’over me lovie, legs are still shakin’” He’s chuckling at you, big warm hands rubbing your thighs in an effort to soothe the shaking. 

“M’sleepy, si’” You whimper out, still sagged against the headboard, mind gone numb, legs gone soft, heat and wolf satiated for the time being. 

“Yeah?” He asks, voice soft as he sits up slowly, sliding you down his body. Your clit catches on his chest hairs and the fabric of his now soaked tank top on the way down and your hips jumps, your whimper ringing out as he shushes you, rubbing soothing circles on your lower back. “Need’ta nap baby?” 

Your eyes are already closing before you can get the words out, before you can even nod your head, you barely register the way his lips kiss the side of your head as he leans back with you in his arms, the way his scent floods your senses, easing you into an easy slumber, as if that had been his plan all along. The last thing you remember before sleep takes you completely is wondering what the hell you had gotten yourself into with him..

taglist: @wise-owl @bingoz @astrxsee @gazsluckyhat @howlerwolfmax @thisbitch-6 @littlelovebug98 @ungodlydilf @madsothree

[makeyoumine69]

Daddy Patrick going down on us, pretty please!🤭

Daddy Knows Best 3.0

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: Patrick Bateman x Fem!Reader

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: Patrick wakes you up in the best possible way (in his opinion, hehe).

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: Smut, Daddy kink, oral sex (pussy eating and a bit of rimming), body worship, mild somnophilia, established relationships, fingering, Patrick is obsessed af, finger sucking, nipple play, hair pulling (Patrick receiving), dirty talk, pet names.

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐒: 1.7k

𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐆 𝐑𝐄𝐂: London Boys—I’m Gonna Give My Heart

𝐀/𝐍: Hey guys! This was supposed to be a drabble, but then…well, I guess I went back to my Daddy Kink era, lmao. I hope you enjoy it! I have several drabbles in my drafts related to Daddy kink, so I will probably spam with them in the near future!

𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐒: [MASTERLIST]; [Daddy Knows Best 1.0]; [Daddy Knows Best 2.0].

The last day at work was pure hell, you were so tired and exhausted that when you got back to Bateman's apartment you blacked out too fast. You didn't even remember if you had sex or not.

Maybe you did, maybe you didn't, but knowing Patrick, you wouldn't be surprised if he used your exhausted state to his advantage, since he was definitely into things like Somnophilia. And what about that night when you suddenly felt dizzy after the glass of wine he gave you?

Too many questions without answers, but that's how it worked when you were involved with a man like Patrick Bateman—he kept you on your toes almost all the time and somehow you even started to love it, but it wasn't really easy to admit that.

The first rays of sunlight of that Saturday morning pierced through the blinders and cast soft shadows over your sleeping form. Bateman's bedroom looked immaculate as always, everything in its place, the white walls now painted a golden hue by the sun. You were deep in sleep, wrapped in a blanket, unaware that Patrick, who had been awake for a long time and you hadn't even heard his alarm, had already finished his morning routine, including his workout and a brisk shower. Now his attention was all on you, on the way your chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm, the curve of your hips so fucking alluring that he couldn't resist touching them through the blanket.

A soft purr escaped your parted lips, but you were still asleep. Even when he slowly pulled the blanket down, exposing your barely covered form, you didn't wake up, which only made things more exciting for him. With a mischievous grin, the man watched as you involuntarily rolled onto your back and that was the perfect opportunity for him to dive between your legs as he lay at your feet, stroking your ankles and then your shins as gently as he could. Bateman didn't really want to wake you—not yet. Inflamed, he carefully made you spread your thighs wider, as if you were doing it on your own, without his help. Patrick wanted to believe that even in your sleep you belonged only to him, that every little fiber of you was his to crave, to possess, to ruin. He wanted to believe that, no matter how delusional his fantasies were.

"Mmm..." You suddenly gasped, your hands sliding along the smooth sheets beneath you, his eyes already fixed on your still relaxed face.

Fuck, you looked so sexy. 

Bateman could enjoy just watching you sleeping like this, but the nagging sensation in his gut was something he couldn't ignore—he had to feed it to keep himself from burning out from the fire blazing in his system. At a certain point, the man noticed that his own breathing was getting faster and faster, his control was still there, but the urge to just rip that transparent nightgown you were wearing was threatening to overwhelm him. 

Shit. This wasn't as easy as it was with other women. You were different and he hated himself for letting you affect him in such a way that he was now really nervous of doing something that would ruin his perfectly crafted façade of a gentleman. A boy-next-door vibe that was both his curse and his blessing.

But here he was, lying between your legs, his hands slowly caressing your thighs until he finally leaned down to plant a lingering kiss on your mound, then bending lower until he had to pull up the hem of your nightgown so he could feel your warm skin. The moment his tongue touched your delicate petals, you arched your back like a bowstring and somehow your hands found their way to his head between your thighs. 

Slowly, you opened your eyes and took a deep breath before looking down to see him pressing his face into you, breathing in your scent. At first you couldn't believe what you had just seen. Perhaps you were still dreaming?

"Patrick," you whispered his name and he kissed your sensitive clit in response. "Am I dreaming?"

Patrick smirked smugly, barely holding back a titter. "And what if you are?" His hot breath tickled your skin whenever he spoke. "Shall I wake you up?"

"No," you replied faster than you could think. "Please, go on."

"Please...?"

You smiled shyly and closed your eyes again. "Please, Daddy."

The second Bateman was about to call you his good girl, he stopped, thinking he had used that nickname too often. Instead, he decided to use the language of action. Without further ado, he plunged his tongue into your lascivious pussy, the taste hitting him hard— it sent shock waves through his body, he could feel the tension forming at the base of his balls. But right now he couldn't concentrate on anything but you.

As he lapped at your now wet cunt, Patrick had to hold your legs open as you convulsed, literally writhing on the bed at how masterfully he was eating you out. Knowing when to lick, when to suck, when to kiss, when to nip.

"A-ahhh-Daddy," your voice was about to burst from the excitement. Bateman didn't hesitate and only intensified his actions, taking your little nub into his hot mouth and sucking it rhythmically with that slurping sound that set you ablaze. "More... I need more..."

What an insatiable little whore you were, he thought, but complied, little did he know that your desperation was just the perfect tool to manipulate him. Bateman might be a good manipulator, using his charm to get what he wanted, but you were no different. For you knew that YOU were his weakest point. Whether he denied it or not didn't matter.

When he suddenly pulled away from you, only to lift your hips a little to give your asshole a quick lick, you wiggled in his grasp, feeling embarrassed, and the man didn't press further, returning to his previous position to continue playing with your throbbing clit. As he huffed against your slit, his face became more flushed than ever, his brown hair was nothing but a mess and he didn't even care if you pulled too hard at times, knowing you were so close to exploding right in his face. He could also read it from the way your legs were shaking, and when he decided to put them on his shoulders, you moaned even louder, prompting him to use one of his thumbs as a pacifier as he pushed it into your mouth. 

Whimpering around his finger, you sucked on it with all your might, feeling the coil in your core about to snap as your hands were busy tugging at his disheveled hair. You didn't even realize you were bucking your hips against his face, desperately anticipating the release that was about to wash over you like a waterfall. 

It was exhilarating and terrifying. Like an unstable element that could not be controlled.

"Fuck, you're so hot," the man murmured into your soaped pussy, now using his fingers to make you cum. First he pushed one finger in, then added another, curling them to massage the spongy spot. "So wet, mhm-mm you make Daddy so proud," oh God, his raspy voice was your personal turn-on. The depth of it, the velvety timbre, the vibration cursing through your bundle of nerves, it was getting too much. "But now... I want you to gimme everything you've got, sweetcheeks. Everything! Will you do it for Daddy?"

Damn, Bateman could be so persuasive sometimes. So demanding. Especially when he used his mouth like this, his digits knuckled deep into your pulsating cleft as he massaged you from the inside, lifting his hazel eyes to your tensed face from time to time as he wanted to witness you unraveling for him. 

Trembling, you almost bit his thumb as he cupped the soft mound of your breast, twisting your hard nipple between his wet fingers with calculated precision. After giving your blushing bud several wet strokes with his tongue, he suddenly pressed his perfectly shaped nose against it to nuzzle it. And that friction eventually helped you fall over the edge, and as you climaxed you froze in a silent scream, your head tilted back, your toes curled, and you had to claw at your own skin from the surging waves of pleasure. 

In fact, you just died and came back to life.

Patrick stopped only after he had cleaned every last ounce of your cum, savoring its taste and licking it off his fingers. Gasping for air, you tried to catch the sight of him with your disoriented gaze. The red tint that painted his cheeks, neck, shoulders and chest looked so sexy on him. 

In the blink of an eye, you sat down on the bed to get closer to him. Bateman didn't flinch, intrigued by your sudden audacity, and you didn't hesitate to trace a wet line across his rapidly rising chest. A lick, then another more tantalizing one that started between his toned pecs and went down to his happy trail, but then he stopped you.

"Uh, uh," he urged, pressing a finger to your lips. "I'm not playing these games with you."

Smirking, you gave him your most innocent look as you peered at him from under your lashes. "I just want to return the favor...you made me feel so good, Daddy. So, so good!"

The sly, fox-like smile that played across your face was both provocative and sophisticated, but it compelled the man to let you have your way only out of interest—he reassured himself. Nothing serious, he could swear. 

Wait, was he losing it already?

"Oh, that's really sweet of you," Bateman crooned, grinning brightly. "And how exactly do you want to do it?"

"Just lie down," you pointed to the spot next to you. "And I will take care of you."

Squinting, the man took a moment to assess the situation, for something was gnawing at him. Not that he thought you were capable of anything...anything of HIS style, but your sudden boldness was something new. Or maybe he just hadn't noticed that this boldness had always been there?

[To be continued...]

P.S. Thank you for reading until the end! I don’t have a taglist. You can follow my writing community to know when I update!💞

[bqstqnbruin]

Always the Bridesmaid

I'm interrupting my regularly scheduled programming (again)(please read this series) with a fic that I came up with when I was writing a happy ending for @laurenairay, which, considering that is weird for me, I had to balance out the universe with this fic instead.

This is reader insert and for the most part the reader is gender neutral, but does present societally more feminine (mention of doing their hair and makeup, wearing a dress).

Have fun!

Warnings: swearing, alcohol consumption, I was mean to Quinn

WC: 5528

______________

You were always told falling in love with someone would take every part of your heart and have you give it to someone else. Falling in love was supposed to be a whirlwind of joy, sadness, anxiety, excitement, fear, happiness, pain, and bliss. Your parents made you believe that loving someone meant your life would change, hopefully for the better, and you would be able to share your life with someone who wasn’t supposed to leave. 

He told you he was taking you out for dinner, to be ready when he got home. You knew you were going to one of the fancier restaurants in town, taking special care to do your hair so not a strand was out of place, do your makeup just the way you liked it, and wearing your favorite outfit that you took the time to steam the wrinkles out of so that you didn’t look like you had spent the entire day rotting on the couch, even though you did.

You knew what he was going to ask.

____________________

“What are you doing right now?” Quinn’s head pokes through your bedroom window, your boyfriend climbing into your room, trying not to laugh as he struggles to bend the right way to make it through without getting hurt.

You turn the page in your book, not bothering to look up. “I’m in the middle of taking over Poland,” you deadpan as he makes his way over to your bed, plopping himself down at your feet. “One day, you’re going to break your leg or something doing that.”

Quinn’s bedroom in your respective family’s lake house’s was opposite yours, allowing the two of you to see what the other was doing whenever the curtains were open. Since you were younger, that was your signal to each other that they could come over. You thought it would involve using the front doors, but Quinn took it as an excuse to truly act like a twelve year old, despite being older than that, and makeshift a ladder from the tree that was right there. 

He grinned at you, leaning against the wall and starting to fiddle with the fringe of the blanket sitting at the foot of your bed. “I want to go do something.”

“We haven’t even been here for seventy two hours and I’m pretty sure you’ve been active for seventy of them.”

“Please,” he whines, leaning over so that his body is parallel with yours. You try to ignore him as you attempt to focus on your book, feeling his eyes practically pierce your shin. “I want to go for a walk.”

“If you can scale the side of this house, I’m sure you can do that just fine.”

“I want company.”

“You have two brothers.”

“They’re asleep.”

“We both know if either of them wanted something from you, they would not hesitate to wake you up.” 

“But I want you to come with me.” You put your bookmark in to save your space, giving him an unimpressed look. “Please? How often do we get to do things where it’s just us?” He takes your hand in his, the calluses on his hands from using his stick in his driveway back home without his gloves surprisingly soothing to you. You roll your eyes, Quinn nuzzling into the crook of your shoulder as you can’t help but smile.

You pull him off the bed, your book all but forgotten, Quinn trailing you like a love-sick puppy.

____________________

You got ready way earlier than you needed to be, anxiously pacing around your apartment you shared with him. You could see him in every corner; it was his apartment first that you had eventually moved into. The furniture was all his, the decorations that were there were chosen by someone he paid rather than the two of you picking it out yourselves like you wanted, even the books in the bookcases weren’t ones you picked; half of them were just for show, those coffee table books on topics you didn’t care about, but looked impressive to those who didn’t know either of you. 

____________________

“This is how you decorate?”

You roll your eyes at him as he flops on your bed. As usual, Quinn was being no help to anything, but it was your first time being with each other since you left for college. “I’m going to be here for a year, why do more?”

“You don’t even have a picture of us in here.” He sits up to wrap his arms around your waist, pulling you into his lap. He kisses the top of your head, you letting your eyes flutter closed as you exhale against him, curled into his chest.

“My roommate keeps bringing guys back,” you tell him. “Four of them would see a picture of you and ask me to send you their highlights.” Quinn burst out laughing, throwing his head back and sending a shiver through your body. You missed hearing him in person, being with him and being able to touch him. 

You missed him. 

You pull away from him slightly to kiss him, his hands tightening, bunching up your shirt in his fists. Thank god your roommate was away this weekend.

“Leave room for Jesus,” one of your friends barges in, Quinn practically launching you off him. You could feel the heat rush to your face, convinced it was visible from space by the smirk on the intruder's face. “Party tonight at Kappa house.”

You exchange a look with Quinn, trying to get a read on his face before looking back at your friend. “Ok?”

“Are you two coming?”

Quinn shrugs, leaning back on your bed, the hem of his shirt riding up to reveal a sliver of skin that made  your heart race. That stupid smirk on his face told you his answer. “Sure.” 

Your friend squeals, launching into talking about you borrowing clothing, getting ready, making sure all three of you look as fantastic as possible for what was all, apparently, your first college frat party. 

Two hours later, you were in a different room down the hall, pre-gaming, cringing as your friend thrust a shot of rosé wine into your hand, immediately following it up with raspberry vodka. You nearly gagged after downing the combination that never should have existed, looking at the disgusted look on Quinn’s face that mirrored your own. “I wish I never drank that,” he sputters out, sticking his tongue out as if the air around him would get rid of whatever that lingering taste was. 

“I’m never drinking vodka again.”

Quinn shrugs. “You never liked it much anyway.” You look at him for a second, not sure if you were unable to see the connection he was trying to make because you genuinely didn’t know, or if the horrible alcohol was somehow already fogging your brain. “Remember a few summers ago when some of our hockey friends came up to visit? They brought vodka and you hated it.”

“Was that the night I fell asleep in your bed and your parents freaked out when they found us?”

“It was the night you fell asleep in the bathtub with Jack, actually.”

You cringe, biting your bottom lip, wishing that he hadn’t brought that night up. Nothing happened between you and his brother, but it was easy to see why Quinn was annoyed at the sight of the two of you. Actually, you remember telling him nothing happened, because nothing did. So why did he get mad at it? “Why would you bring that up?” 

Quinn shrugs, turning his attention to the group of guys cheering on another as he shotgun a can of beer. “Just made me think of it.” 

____________________

He texted you that he was downstairs, ready to pick you up, just as you agreed he would do that morning. He was late coming back from practice, letting you know that he took the time to get ready at the practice facility so he wouldn’t have to come up and do it. 

You felt yourself exhale, the anxiety in your chest dissipating ever so slightly. Him being downstairs gave you more time before you had to see him.

You didn’t want to see him.

____________________

“I want to see you, though.” 

You roll your eyes, thankful that Quinn called you instead of Facetimed you, knowing he would get upset over your reaction. You were having this conversation for the fifth time now, Quinn begging you to come see him when you told him it wasn’t possible. “I have four exams this week and I have a job interview. I need to be here.” 

“Where’s the job?”

You hesitate for a second, trying to figure out if you should lie or not. “New Jersey.” Quinn doesn’t say anything. “Q?”

“I thought you were applying for jobs here?”

“I am,” you say quickly, “But I need a job after graduation, regardless of where it is. I can’t move to Vancouver if I don’t have a job, too.” 

“I can take care of both of us.” 

You let out a loud sigh, pressing the heels of your hands to your eyes. “I don’t want you to have to ‘take care of me,’ Quinn, I can do it myself.” 

“That doesn’t mean you have to.”

“And what happens if we break up?” you snap. “What happens when you and I aren’t together anymore and I have nothing because you controlled everything? I’ll have no job, no experience, nothing to fall back on and I’m screwed.”

Quinn doesn’t say anything for too long, your heartbeat getting faster with every second he was silent. You didn’t know you were afraid of that. “You think we’re going to break up?” he finally asks, his voice barely audible. 

“Quinn,” you start.

“No, no, it’s fine. You’re right. You don’t want to bank on us being together forever.”

“Quinn,” you try again.

“Hey, I have to head to the arena, and you have to study. I’ll talk to you later.” 

The line goes silent before you can say anything else. You check the time, taking into account the time difference. You knew Quinn’s game-day schedule. He still had two more hours before he had to leave. 

____________________

You get downstairs, seeing your boyfriend leaning against his car. He was in a suit, one you hadn’t seen before. He bought a new one for tonight. It fit him well; you could see the curve of every part of his body, every crevice that you knew by heart, everything that was stashed in his pockets outlined. You could see the box in his pant pocket. 

He was looking down at his phone, a lock of his hair falling into his eye without even hearing you coming towards him. That sight of him used to make your heart skip a beat. 

He finally looks up, the grin on his face growing with every step you took towards him. He shoves his phone in his pocket, pulling you in for a kiss. His arms wrapped around you, his lips pressed to yours, you praying he doesn’t notice the slight sweat you felt forming over your entire body. 

He opens the car door for you, running around to get into the driver seat and take you into the city.

“You are gorgeous,” he breathes out, his hand resting on your thigh as he drives.

____________________

You stare at your phone, praying that someone would email you or call you. If you watched your phone enough, you could will them into getting back to you, right?

“You’re next,” your cousin’s hand finds your shoulder, making you jump out of your skin. “God, ok.”

“Sorry,” you mutter, putting your phone down and getting in the makeup chair. The person your cousin hired to do the bridal party makeup was talking to you about what you wanted, you barely paying attention while your mind wandered, trying not to be rude and check your notifications every time your phone screen lit up. 

“What’s with you?”

You look to your left, the makeup artist turning your head back toward them. “I’m supposed to be hearing back from that job,” you tell her.

“So why do you look like you want to throw up?”

You hesitate, a text from Quinn showing up on your screen to let you know that he was almost ready to head to the wedding venue. 

“Because it’s my dream job, but,” your voice trails off. She eyes you, the look on her face burning a hole in the side of your face. “It’s not in Vancouver.”

She nods. “So it’s not near Quinn.” 

“It’s in New Jersey.” 

“Are you going to take it if you get it?”

You exhale. The job was everything you wanted; in the field you studied in college, in a great place where you didn’t have to spend what felt like millions on rent, the people seemed great, the benefits were perfect.

It was just in the wrong country. 

“You know what? You’ve just graduated, we’re getting ready for my wedding, and your boyfriend is out there probably thinking about the day that this is the two of you, instead. Relax.” 

Before you could give an answer, it was time for you to get your hair done, your cousin being whisked away by the photographer to start getting some pictures taken. You didn’t even have an answer. 

Your phone buzzes, another text from Quinn, a new email in your inbox. 

You don’t check it, your thoughts lost in the whirlwind that became getting ready to join your cousin to walk down the aisle to who was supposed to be the love of her life. 

The bridal party ahead of you starts to enter, your cousin behind you pacing while the music continues to play. She calmed you down before when she was the one who was supposed to be anxious. What could you do now? 

You walk forward, the aisle seeming much longer than it did during the rehearsal dinner considering you were now in much higher heels, with makeup that you hoped wasn’t running down your face from the heat you felt. 

You catch Quinn sitting by himself, the smile on his face making your heart skip a beat. 

You felt yourself calm down, all the worries you had melting away as you headed toward the altar. 

You wanted to be walking toward him, to see him waiting for you, ready to tell everyone you cared about that you wanted to be together forever.

The entire wedding went by in a blur, your conscience focused entirely on you picturing yourself with Quinn standing at the altar.

When you finally get the chance to check your phone on the way to the reception, the email notification sits on your screen, unanswered. You open the app, your heart racing. 

‘Good morning, we are pleased to offer you the position…” 

____________________

The two of you fall into mundane conversation once you’re seated. He had asked for a table away from everyone, off to the side where the two of you had privacy, just as the two of you had liked it. You felt awkward being in the middle of any restaurant; he hated having people stare at him because they were sure they knew who he was and spent the entire time gaping at him once they realized who he was.

He asks about your day, about your job. 

You relay to him the events of the day, just as you did every single day the two of you had time to sit down and eat together. It was the same conversation every time, yet he seemed to love to hear about it. 

“I remember when I was excited about this job.”

“Do you still want to quit?” 

____________________

“How do we manage this?” Quinn’s voice comes through your phone, an exasperated plea. 

You hesitate, trying to figure out what to say. “I have no clue,” you admit. “Do we try long distance?”

Quinn sighs, the sound of his car starting up in the background. “We’ve been doing that for the last four years. Do we really want to keep doing it like this?”

Silence comes from you again, this conversation going exactly how you thought it would; neither of you sure what you wanted to do. 

Your dream job made you an offer that you couldn’t refuse. Your boyfriend was on the other side of the continent in another country. You couldn’t do both.

“It’s that or we aren’t together anymore.”

“Are you sure you want to take this job?” Quinn’s voice cuts you off before you can say more.

“Quinn.” 

“Is this job this important to you? Did you try to look for something near here?”

“You know that it is and you know that I did,” you reply, your tone getting defensive. “I’m supposed to be meeting my friends tonight and I still need to get ready,” you lie to him, giving yourself the best out you could. “I’ll talk to you later.” 

You pace around your apartment, pulling up the email chain with the offer letter attached. It was everything you could want. It just wasn’t close enough to the person you wanted. 

You end up falling asleep on your couch, waking up in pain from the angle you somehow thought was comfortable the night before, with someone pounding on the door to be let in. Your phone starts buzzing, your brain barely functioning to register anything other than the time, almost noon.

“I’m coming, calm down,” you rasp, hoping the banging would subside. “Quinn?”

“I can’t have this conversation with you over the phone,” he barges in, pushing past you. 

“How did you get here?” 

“I took the first flight out.” He sits down on the couch you were just asleep on, making no comment of your obviously disheveled state. “We can’t break up. I love you and I don’t want us to break up.” 

You sit down next to him. “I love you, too.”

“Do you want to break up?” he asks, panic in his voice. You study him for a second, knowing that the silence you were giving him wasn’t settling him in any way. He was clearly exhausted; his skin was more pale than normal, his hair poking in every direction possible. The bags under his eyes were darker than you had ever seen him, and you’ve seen him after he pulled an all nighter for a final, running only on energy drinks, french fries, and pure hope that he would pass the exam that morning. 

“I don’t want to,” you start, your voice trailing off. “But, Quinn, this job.”

“Marry me.”

You jolt back. “What?”

“Marry me. Don’t worry about the job. You don’t have to worry about anything. I want to be with you and I know you want to be with me.”

“Quinn,” you scoff, a laugh bubbling into your voice. “We can’t get married.”

____________________

“You could easily find a job somewhere else, though, right? If you wanted to?” he asks.

You nod. “But it was already overwhelming trying to figure everything out when I first started. Do I really want to do that again?”

____________________

“How are you settling in?” Quinn’s question made your heart ache, the first time you’re talking to him since you moved only able to be a few minutes over Facetime. “Has Jack helped you?”

You let out a laugh. “You know he’s only helped eat my food.” Quinn’s laugh matches yours, a tightness in your chest at the sound. “I miss you.”

Quinn lets out a sigh, closing his eyes. “I miss you, too.” Both of you stare at each other in silence for a moment, you looking away to pretend to continue unpacking. You were still trying to find everything in the boxes you hastily packed up, the start date your job provided you only giving you a week to pack and find a new place. Everything was in unlabelled boxes and just thrown together, meaning you were finding multiple pairs of underwear mixed into a box of dishes and books. “I wish we didn’t have to break up.”

You feel a sob creeping up your throat, the same sentiment you had being verbalized by the one person you wished didn’t feel the same. If this were a clean break, everything would be so much easier. If it were a clean break it would be easier to get over and move on. If it were a clean break, then you wouldn’t have what you were sure was a permanent pit in your stomach telling you that this was the wrong choice.

Before you can answer, someone knocks on your door. “Um, I’m gonna go. I think that’s Jack or Luke. They said they were going to come and help today.”

“Tell them to behave.”

You force a smirk through the tears that were brimming in your eyes. “We know they won’t.” You say your goodbyes, the tears finally falling down your cheeks when you open your door. “Oh, Nico,” you sniffle, Jack and Luke’s teammate standing in your doorway without the two boys who were supposed to be there. 

Nico’s brow furrows. “What’s wrong?” he takes a small step towards you, gently resting his hands on your arms. His attempt at comfort sends a shiver through your body, the attempt to hide your physical recoiling at his touch unsuccessful. It wasn’t one of disgust, it was more out of shock. “Sorry.”

“No, no,” you tell him, tugging his sleeve to pull him into your apartment. “I’m just,” you hesitate. Telling an attractive guy that you were crying over your ex seemed like a bad idea. Especially when that ex is the brother of two of this guy's closest friends. “I’m overwhelmed from unpacking.” 

Nico nods, looking around at the mess of boxes that are cluttered in what is supposed to be your living room. “When was the last time you ate?”

You stop and think, checking your phone to see it was closer to dinner than any other normal meal time. “Yesterday?”

  “Come on.” Nico holds out his hand to you, ignoring the uncertain look on your face. “Jack and Luke asked me to come because they’re doing god knows what, and we both know dealing with them when you’re hungry is going to end up with one of them dangling from that window by their sock.”

You can’t help but laugh knowing that you and Quinn have done something like that to Luke when you were younger over the summer. There’s a reason there’s now a small balcony outside Quinn’s window. The thought of you and Quinn makes your heart hurt again, the threat of tears coming back.

“Hey,” Nico’s voice goes soft, pulling you into a hug. You melt into him, the comfort of his cologne making you exhale. “Whatever it is, you’ll be ok.” 

____________________

“Remember that one wedding we went to, one of your college friends?” he reaches across the table to take your hand, his voice shaking as he abruptly changes the subject. He waits for you to nod. “Do you think about what it would be for us to get married?”

As soon as you hear the words starting to form in his mouth, you grab your water with your free hand, gulping it down to give yourself time. “Um, yeah,” you lie.

____________________

“Jack, you fucking idiot,” you scold him, grabbing the napkins and trying to get as much red wine off your white shirt as you could. It’s your fault, really. You’ve known Jack long enough to know how dangerous of a color it is to wear around him. 

“I’ll grab you something to wear,” Nico mumbles, glaring at his teammate. He heads to his room, the base of his neck turning bright red as he walks away. 

Jack looks sorry, giving you a puppy-dog pout that you were all too used to from your childhood. “It was an accident.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you mutter. Nico comes back with a sweatshirt, a Devils logo and the number 13 on the breast for you to throw on while you’re here. He plants a kiss on the side of your head once you pull it on, sitting down next to you. 

The rest of the night passes by, Jack spilling two more drinks all over Nico’s table that made Nico send his teammate home.

You settle in his bed, letting out an exhale as you sink into the soft mattress. Nico comes into his room, your shirt in hand. He tried his best to get the stain out.

“I think it’s a lost cause,” he tells you, tossing the shirt into his hamper. “I’ll see if the cleaners can get it out when I bring my suits in next time.” 

“I know better than to wear white around a Hughes brother,” you joke, Nico climbing in next to you and pulling you close.

You hear him sigh, tucking his arm under his head as he lays down. “Do you still miss him?”

The silence between you two is palpable. You never talk about your past with Quinn, awkwardly dancing around the subject whenever he inevitably gets brought up. You weren’t completely over him, but how could you tell your boyfriend that? You lived here, Quinn was in Vancouver. “I miss my friendship with him.”

It wasn’t totally a lie. Even before you started dating Quinn, he was your best friend. Now, you could barely talk to each other. 

“I get that,” you hear him say, not without you noticing the strangled tone in his voice.

Your phone buzzes, Jack tagging you and Nico in a story from your dinner, captioning it ‘taken moments before disaster (myself) struck.’ You can’t help by laugh, showing Nico the post. He smiles, the two of you taking in the photo. The way Nico looks at you makes your heart flutter. He loves you. You know he does. And you do love him. 

You look at the time, the late hour making you groan. “Ugh, fuck.” 

“What?”

“I’m only going to get, like, three hours of sleep if I want to make it home in time to get ready for work.”

“Why don’t you move in here?” Your head whips to him, feeling a pain in your neck, trying to hide your wince so that Nico doesn’t think you hate his idea. “I mean, you spend more time sleeping here than you do at your actual place.”

“Are you serious?”

Nico smiles, pulling you in for a kiss. “Of course.”

You mirror his smile. “Yeah.”

You eventually fall asleep, an excited feeling about a new chapter in yours and Nico’s relationship keeping you awake. 

When your alarm finally goes off, you let out a groan, Nico stirring beside you as he wakes up with you, despite not needing to. You see a text on your phone, sent not long after you went to bed.

It was from Quinn.

‘Does he at least make you happy?’

____________________

Nico is clearly nervous, his free hand rubbing against his thigh. You can feel the sweat forming on his hand in yours. “We’ve been together for how many years now? Three?” You nod. “I love you.” 

____________________

Every time Vancouver came to play in New Jersey, Ellen and Jim insist on you joining them to watch the game. They think of you like a daughter, despite the hopes of you actually joining their family dwindling down to nothing with every year that passes by with you staying in New Jersey.

Of you staying with Nico rather than Quinn. 

It doesn’t get easier any time you see Quinn. According to a drunken Jack, Quinn still loves you. You know you love Nico, but can you also still have feelings for Quinn? 

The Hughes parents weren’t there yet, you sitting alone as the two teams come out onto the ice for warmups. You see Quinn, the sight of him making your heart skip a beat, even after all these years of falling in love with Nico. He looks like he’s zoning out while skating in a circle around nothing, his stick in both his hands parallel with the ice. You know him well enough to know that this is how way of focusing, reviewing everything he could remember about the game tapes he had spent the last few days studying, as if this weren’t the third time this season he was playing against his brothers.

Against your boyfriend. 

The three brothers meet at center ice, taking a picture as they did before every game, the tradition somehow never losing its magic and never getting skipped over no matter how many meetings the two teams had. You feel your anxiety go up when Nico skates over and joins them, the smile on Nico’s face not being matched in the slightest by Quinn. 

The last time you saw Quinn, it was like you were two strangers who were forced together by accident, rather than being two people who grew up with each other, who knew everything about each other. His sentences and comments to you were short, his eyes never meeting yours.The only thing he said that really mattered to you was him telling you he wasn’t sure he would ever stop loving you.

You didn’t remember how that even came up.You had been talking about the wedding you were in, one of your friends from college getting married a few months before yours and Quinn’s last meeting. Quinn was invited, but, according to Jack, he couldn’t get himself to go once he saw you were in the wedding party. 

Your phone buzzes, a text from your boss. You can’t help but let out a groan, knowing that nothing good could come of him texting you on a Friday night when he knew you were at the game.

You skim the message, hoping that it was something that you could ignore for a few hours until you and Nico got home that night. One word catches your eye, causing you to choke on the sharp breath you took in. 

‘Vancouver’ is right there, your boss telling you that there was an opening in your company’s office there, that you would be perfect for it, that you would get a higher salary, a relocation fee, the company would take care of everything you needed to have you move to Canada.

You would be near Quinn. 

You let your boss know that you would think about it, reminding him that you were out with your friends at the game, just as you told him that morning. He sends back a simple thumbs up, as if that was a good enough reaction to letting you know that your dream job just got better. 

The Hughes finally join you right as the anthems begin, pulling you in for hugs. The game begins, your attention anywhere by the actual game. You were facing the ice, but your mind was back to your phone. During the intermissions, you’re completely anti-social, looking at the application your boss sent you that you would need to fill out. He was right, you were perfect for the job.

The game ends, you heading down with the parents to see the guys, Quinn the first one out. He talks to his parents, you awkwardly standing off to the side. 

He finally acknowledges you when his brothers come out of their locker room.

“So, how are you?” he asks, shoving his hands in his pockets and looking down at the ground. 

“Good. You?”

“Good. How’s the job?”

“Good,” you let out. “There’s an opening in our Vancouver office,” you blurt out before you can stop yourself.

Quinn’s eyes light up, the smile on his face one that you hadn’t seen from him in a while. It made you smile. “Really? Are you going to take it?”

You sigh, the smile melting from your face. “I’m not sure yet. I would have to move. I would have to figure out Visa’s and everything. I would have to figure out things with,” your voice trails off, both of you knowing what you meant without you saying it. “Nico.”

Your boyfriend appears behind Quinn, a sudden panic coursing through you. You remember the idea of being away from Quinn tearing you apart inside, the thought making you sick. The idea of being away from Nico didn’t have that same effect. 

____________________

“Will you marry me?” He asks, the look on his face hopeful and nervous while he waits for your answer. 

You hesitate, knowing that he was panicking, hating that you made him feel that way. Your phone buzzes with a text from your boss before you can answer, your eyes flicking down to the screen. ‘Still interested in Vancouver?’ You hadn’t told Nico you applied for the job. You told yourself you didn’t want it that much but that it wouldn’t hurt to apply. Seeing Quinn keping coming up in your mind each time you lied to yourself, how you would be back in the same city as him. 

You still love Quinn.

“No.” 

[lunajay33]

Hold Me🖤

Summary: You’re Rhysands sister and have been fooling around with Azriel in secret but when you find out you’re pregnant you become panicked and sick with worry about what could happen

Pairing: Azriel x f!reader

•Masterlist•

Everything was fun, growing up with Rhys, Cassian and Azriel was a blast they always involved me when they could and as we grew up we all got busy with responsibilities in the Nightcourt, Rhys became the high lord, Azriel a shadow singer and Cassian a general commander, I helped Rhys with making plans and helping anyway I could

But then he got stuck under the mountain and I became lonely in a way, he’s my twin and it felt like my other half was ripped from me, and I guess some how in the 50 years he was gone Azriel was there for me and to relax we started fooling around and it was fun, he treated me like a goddess and along the way I caught feelings for him but before I could confess Rhysand came back and that’s all that mattered, he went through so much and I did everything I could to be there for him and then he found his mate and she became a new part of our family and seeing how happy she made my brother made me love her all the more

Azriel and I continued to hook up here and there and honestly the sneaking around made it even more hot

“Can I ask you something?” He asked as we were laid in my bed late at night after one of our sessions, his shadows skimming up and down my legs as his hands did the same to my waist

“Of course Az”

“Did you ever feel like maybe we would’ve been mates?”

“Yeah, I love ever bit of you and I always will, maybe it’s just not our time yet, we aren’t all as lucky as Rhys and Feyre” I smile still not giving up hope of us

“Do you really think that?” His voice think with sleep

“I do, I’ll never give up on you Az, I……..I love you” his stroking stopped and his shadows quivered against my skin, he stood up throwing on his sweatpants and going to leave

“Wait Az where are you going?” My heart felt heavy in my chest

“I……I can’t” he stammers out as he disappears into the darkness of the night

I sit there alone feeling the cold night settle in and my heart break, I thought he felt more for me, was this all a mistake

The tears finally fall and it’s hard not to cry louder, I eventually cry myself to sleep waking to the morning sun shinning in my eyes only make the headache worse

I drag myself out of bed and pull on my deep blue robe Azriel had gotten me, looking at myself in the mirror I look awful, my eyes puffy and red and so is my cheeks, stained in streaks of tears, I sigh finally nothing my heart ache

I trudge down the stairs to meet the family for our usual breakfast, when I get to the table it’s no surprise that Azriel isn’t there, I slump down in a chair next to Rhys and rest my head on his shoulder

“Y/n you okay you look a little rough……have you been crying sweetie?” Feyre asks from beside Rhys

That was all it took for the dam to burst again and I’m crying uncontrollably infront of everyone, Rhys holds me tighter Cassian next to me rubbing my back reassuringly

“Sis what’s going on? I haven’t seen you like this since mom”

“I’m such a loser how could I think anyone could love me…..I’m sorry I shouldn’t have come down this morning” I say standing up but Rhys and Feyre look at eachother and I know they’re talking to eachother in their heads

I go back to my room feeling nauseous I run to my washroom and throw up what was left of last nights supper, I barely get sick the last time I got sick was when I couldn’t feel Rhys anymore and he was locked under the mountain, that’s when it hit me

Frantically I get dressed in something other than a robe and Winnow away to Madja

“Darling are you alright?” She asks as she leads me to sit in the bed

“I think…..I think I might be pregnant” she gives me a reassuring smile and starts doing her tests

“You’re right, you’re pregnant with a little girl, you’re about two months along” she said laying a reassuring hand on my shoulder

“Okay thank you Madja” I sigh winnowing back home to my room

Pregnant and now I don’t even know where Azriel went and he obviously wants nothing to do with me, how did my life get so messy in a day, a knock at my door rang through my room before Rhys and Feyre came in sitting across from me on my bed

“Hey wanna talk about whatever’s going on?”

“Please don’t be mad, I couldn’t deal with that ontop of everything”

“I’d never be mad at you sis” I sucked in a breath before finally telling them the secret I’ve held ontop for decades

“Well when you got trapped under the mountain I was a mess I couldn’t get out of bed but one night Azriel came and reassured me and gave me hope again and I guess along the way we wanted to distract eachother………we started hooking up and it’s been fun but i love him Rhys, I finally told him last night and he panicked and left and now…..”

“Now what?” Feyre encouraged me to go on

“I’m pregnant, I don’t know what to do Rhys I thought he was the one and now I’m alone and I have no idea where he is” they looked at me with wide eyes only making me more anxious

“Oh my little star it’ll be okay, I know how he is with feelings maybe he just needed time to think about everything and whatever happens I’m gonna be here for you and my little….”

“Niece, it’s a girl” only making his smile bigger

“A little girl….i love you sis everything will work out” they both gave me a big hug and left giving me my space

•

The sun began to set and I’ve calmed down a bit from the craziness of the day, Cassian brought me a cup of hot chocolate and a plate of crackers and cheese, now I’m just relaxing trying to ease my wild thoughts when I feel a little tickle at my feet, looking down it’s the shadows I’ve come to adore, seeing Azriel stood at the foot of my bed

“You’re back! Listen I’m sorry about last night I didn’t mean to scare you off” I sigh sitting up in bed

“No it’s not your fault I just…..I’ve never had someone love me the way you do and I just felt like I wasn’t enough for you but after a little chat with Rhys I realize you’re the one for me even if we aren’t mates”

“Really! Are you sure you’re not just saying that so he doesn’t kill you”

“I’m sure I love you” that’s when I felt it that glowing string in my chest that sang for him and I could tell he felt it too as he wrapped his arms around me

“My mate” I sighed contently

“My mate and my child”

“You know?”

“Of course I know, I hear everything remember” he smiled

Finally everything was the way it was suppose to be

[fraugwinska]

Hi! Okay, damn, sorry, i tried to chill out and not request again so quickly 😅 but I've been constantly thinking about your writing, and I've read all your Alastor one shots like 10 times each...

I'm especially hung up on the ending of More than Words, I did not expect you to end it in such a sweet way and honestly I'd love to see a follow up to that, basically a part two :)

Plot wise I was thinking:

It's been a few weeks since the two of you fell asleep on the couch and Charlie is getting impatient since nothing else happened between Alastor and reader but she can see the way the two looks at each other when they think no one is watching. So, Charlie being Charlie, makes up a plan to set you two up. She also involves everyone at the hotel and some people outside (Rosie) - she makes it so whenever there's some activity, you two are always paired up, or Rosie invites you both for dinner but five minutes into it she leaves saying she forget about something important. And you notice what she's trying to do and while you do appreciate it, you also see that Alastor feels anxious and pressured (you see that but not the fact he's growing feeling for you), so you decide to talk with her. And Alastor hears everything? And we get another amazing sweet emotional ending? 👀🥰

Last thing last - please do not feel pressured to write it or anything, i just wanted to share this with you cause it's been on my mind 😅❤️

You ask - the fluff fairy delivers! 🧚✨ I loved More than words, so I was super happy and excited to write a continuation - and it's as fluffy and wholesome as can be! :> Thank you, Anon, for the suggestion and your beautiful, kind words!!!

❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️

Louder than Words

"...and with Niffty choosing Husk, that leaves you two."

Charlie clapped her hands together with a gleeful smile, eyes darting between an annoyed looking Alastor and an annoyed looking you.

"Yes. That leaves us.", you sigh.

"Again.", Alastor adds, the smile on his lips twitching.

"Oh come on, guys, don't be such spoilsports. Look at how much fun this is!" she gestured to a blindfolded and beaten up Vaggie, cursing at Angel in Spanish who howled with laughter as he pushed her through Charlies makeshift obstacle course with much too much carelessness.

"Well I'll be damned. Ange actually managed to get her to to run into the same desk twice without gettin' punched.", Husk said in amused bewilderment, just as a loud "OUCH, ey, stop it Vagina!" was heard. Niffty giggled, blindfolding herself and taking Husks paw. The cat groaned but started to lead her - or more she dragged him - through the course, constantly (almost purposely) hitting something in her way.

You and Alastor looked at each other.

"Well, I guess you don't feel like going through a minefield of office furniture.", you shrugged, and took the last blindfold from Charlies hands, ignoring her excited squeal as you put it on. "Don't let me run into the coffee table, my shins still hurt from last weeks bonding exercise..."

Alastor let out an exasperated sigh. "Very well, then."

This was getting out of hand. As you felt Alastor's hand on your back, pushing you into the blindness forward, you thought about the last few bonding and trust exercises and how blatantly obvious Charlie was in her determination to get you and Alastor together.

At first you didn't mind, since she didn't make you do anything that wasn't bearable. On one activity, you had to tell your partner what you appreciated about them, that had been easy. Before Alastor could turn to Niffty, who stood next to him, she had almost hauled herself away, insisting on Angel as her partner, and Angel - next to you - nodded with unfitting eagerness. Alastor told you about how good you were at listening and giving good advice, and you had told him you loved the way he spoke - the accent, his way of choosing words and the melodic voice he had, and that you liked his laugh. Easy.

On another activity, Charlie made everyone pair up (of course, you were Alastor's partner, and this time you were sure the sticks you drew were marked by Charlie and Husk by the way they had shared mischievous looks) and hug their partner for five minutes. That had been less fun. You were much too aware how averse Alastor was to physical touch, and although he could've had it worse with Angel or Vaggie, you still felt bad when you saw the look on his face as Charlie set the timer. "We don't have to, Al. I can just sit this one out.", you had told him, but with a pained smile, he wrapped his arms around you stiffly, holding you in an awkward embrace. "It's alright dear, just... stay still, would you?" It had been a weird, uncomfortable silence, those five minutes. You avoided any touch yourself and did not dare to look him in the eyes, so to not make it any more weird for him.

It had taken you a long time to understand that the radio demon was, in it's essence, just another former human being turned sinner. A man with a lot of traumas and issues, who had died and gone to hell. Not a good person by heavenly standards... by most standards really, being an overlord and cannibal and all, but in hell that didn't really mean anything, you were all there for a reason. It certainly meant nothing to you. With a lot of work from your end, he had learned to trust you, and in return he let you get to know him, step by step.

But all these efforts could go down the drain at this infuriating persistence of everyone around you to force something that shouldn't be forced. Alastor was already uncomfortable at being touched, already hesitant to share things from his past, or his feelings, already on the fence of showing genuine kindness and trust. The last thing you wanted was to lose all the progress you've made with him.

The feeling of his arms around you had burned itself into your memory, and the scent of him had stuck to your skin for a long time. You weren't stupid, it had been a long time coming, this goddamn crush on him, this fluttering feeling one gets when getting too close to another. You had fallen for him a long time ago, and you could argue with reason all you wanted - it didn't change the fact you liked Alastor more than just a friend. BUT - and this but was important - he never had shown any interest in relationships, romance, love or anything. And that was fine. You were content to have him in your life, and if that was as 'just' trusted friends, you would still take it in a heartbeat.

"Watch out, darling, armchair to your left." Alastor's voice, right next to your ear, made you flinch. "Careful now, the carpet is starting to change into hardwood.", he warned and you nodded, taking careful steps. You had no idea where you were in the foyer, or if you were nearing the door or the stairs. "Are we anywhere close to the finish line?", you asked him and you heard his quiet chuckle.

"Oh no, we still have quite a way to go. Don't worry, my dear, I'll make sure you're not going to run into the remains of the cupboard Niffty just destroyed." His hand on your waist, guiding you, made you swallow nervously.

That gesture reminded you of another instance of your friends overreaching insistence - your visit at Rosie's last week. Rosie, your long-time friend, had invited you and Alastor for a dinner party. She had sent a message through Charlie (which should have been your first clue that something was not right), but both of you had decided to go, because who were you to deny her hospitality? You had been surprised to find her emporium so... empty, when you entered. No servants, no other guests, no one. Only you, Alastor and Rosie, sitting in her lounge chatting about the newest gossip of hellish politics before she served a whole feast of venison, various vegetables and side dishes, all of which had looked exquisite and overly fancy.

She had left almost as soon as you and Alastor sat down, saying she forgot to pick up something important from across the colony, and to not wait on her while she rushed out of the room with a glistening smile. You had watched her suspiciously, knowing she was up to something. It didn't take a genius to realize she was trying to set you two up, and Alastor seemed to have understood the same, because of the way he pinched the bridge of his nose, visibly uncomfortable and tense the whole evening. It had been a somewhat awkward affair, the two of you eating and desperately chatting, unwilling to waste the food. But you couldn't even get a proper bite down your throat with how much your stomach was twisting.

When Rosie returned, she found you sitting on the sofa, drinking tea, while Alastor was absent.

"Did something happen?", she had asked you with a pinch of impish curiosity, and you had replied "No. Nothing." in a dry tone. She had sat down next to you, asking how dinner had been, and if the two of you enjoyed yourselves. "Oh yes, it was lovely, although your seat empty surely was a little damper on the fun." you had answered, giving her a fake smile. You never saw her that abashed before. When Alastor returned to bring you back to the hotel, the walk had been... silent. Awkward, as you hung on his arm he had presented you, with him unable to look you in the eyes and you not wanting to press him into more talking. When you had arrived home, he guided you through the double doors, his hand on your waist, before quickly saying good night and melting into his shadows to rush away into his room, leaving you alone in the dark foyer.

It was like you were standing on glass, always having an eye out to make sure others wouldn't push too hard and break the thin ice you walked on, with a dangerous fondness deep beneath the surface, too fragile to poke.

"...listening, Darling?"

"Huh? What?"

You felt the blindfold being removed from your eyes, the sudden light blinding you.

"You look a little flushed my dear." you blinked your eyes, only to see Alastor stand directly in front of you, just barely out of arms reach, staring you in the face with a scrutinizing expression. "The exercise is over, we made it through the course without a scratch, I hope I didn't cause you any discomfort."

It took a moment for you to realize that you stood at the edge of the maze of furniture, but what really knocked you off your balance was the way Alastor's head was tilted slightly to one side, his crimson eyes almost boring through you, staring deep into your soul, as if he was looking for you, truly seeing you, and how he reached out a sharp tipped hand towards you with the look of worry on his face. You took a step back, laughing nervously and raking a hand through your hair.

"All good, Al. I'm just glad there's no imprint of my face on any of the cupboards." You saw him jerk his hand back with a pained smile. "Splendid.", he laughed, the edges of it trembling. He looked everywhere but at you, "Shall we join the others, then?"

You followed him to one of the sofas and let yourself fall on the plush cushions next to him. You watched his ears twitch as Angel hollered a jubilant cheer of Vaggie's name, who finally reached the end of the course, the blood on her shins almost dried. Husk patted a panting Niffty on the back with a fond look, while Charlie cheered as Angel bowed for her with a big grin.

"Told 'ya the spicy taco and I could make it out alive and in one piece, Charls!"

Vaggie gave Angel a deathly glance, then sighed. "It's high time for lunch, hon. All the blood loss made me hungry..."

The group collectively agreed and headed towards the kitchen, talking and laughing loudly with each other. You couldn't help but give Alastor, who kept his gaze anywhere else than to you, a look, furrowing your brow. This had to stop, now.

"Charlie, do.... do you have a minute?"

The princess stopped to look at you, her smile disappearing and her eyes widening as she saw the stern expression on your face.

"Uh- Yeah, sure.", she shot Vaggie a look, as if begging for her help, but you just grabbed her hand and pulled her away into a nearby corridor while the others snickered and headed off, telling them to take their time. Charlie gave you a nervous glance, and the pitiful face of guilt only worsened your mood.

"Charlie, I know you mean well, but you have to stop."

"Listen, I didn't mean any harm..." Her face was full of pitiful remorse. You pinched the bridge of your nose and sighed.

"I'm aware of that, Charlie, but you are making Al uncomfortable."

"I'm sorry, really, that's not my intention! I just Thought you two need a little push in the right..."

"This whole... THIS might end our friendship all together and I don't want to take that risk! You're even getting the others involved. For fuck's sake, even Rosie is in on it. Al doesn't want this - us, relationship-thing, WHATEVER, and it is not okay for you to press us!"

Her eyebrows shot up. "But you want it."

"What?", you said, irritated.

"You're only talking about him, and his feelings. But what I'm hearing is, that you... you like him, right? You'd say yes to..."

Tears of frustration shot into your eyes. Why didn't Charlie get it? "That doesn't matter. It's not something only one can decide, you should know that. He doesn't feel the same, and that's fine. He doesn't want to be with me, and that's fine. I can accept that. What I can't accept is the way you're hellbent on forcing a relationship on us. He is happy the way we are, and I don't want you and the others to mess that up."

You turn away from her, angry and hurt. "I just... want him to be happy. To have his boundaries respected."

"I... I'm sorry...", Charlie started, but you already walked off.

You were angry. Angry at Charlie, angry at everyone, angry at yourself. Almost at your doorstep, a hand on your shoulder stopped you.

"Dearest? I'd like to talk, if that's alright with you."

It was Alastor. Of course it was Alastor.

Your heart was pounding in your chest, a feeling of dread and guilt washing over you, as if he had overheard the entire conversation, and you slowly turned around, swallowing. He didn't seem upset, but his face was calm and serious, not the usual cheerful smile on his lips.

"Of course."

He held the door to your own room open for you, closing it behind him after you entered.

"Take a seat, Darling, if you would."

You sat down, hands in your lap, avoiding his gaze, looking at your carpet with feigned interest. Your heart was hammering against your ribs, a painful stinging sensation in your stomach.

"Darling, would you look at me, please."

With a heavy sigh, you obliged, looking up.

"Al, listen, I'm sorry...", you started, but were interrupted by the radio demon's hand, raising up.

"Please. Let me talk, would you, my dear."

You closed your mouth, and he nodded, a gentle smile on his lips.

"I know I'm a... difficult man. And I am not exactly the best in understanding the feelings of others. I also know that the princess and - under her meticulous orchestration - our fellow residents, are quite adamant in their endeavor to try and push us together."

You swallowed, hard. The way he looked at you made your stomach drop.

"Al, listen, it's alright, I've talked to Charlie and I'll tell the others to stop..."

"Darling, would you PLEASE shut up for a minute?"

The room was suddenly silent. He rarely talked like that to you.

"As I was saying..." He sighed, and you couldn't help but think he was utterly frustrated. You felt horrible. "I don't appreciate it when people assume what I want or don't want."

"Neither do I.", you mumbled, and he let out a laugh.

"That is precisely my point, Darling." Alastor took a few steps towards you, his cane twirling in his hands before he poofed it out of existence. "And as such, I've been pondering for a while how to proceed. The way the others keep pestering us, I thought it's better to clear things up between us."

Your heart sank. So he did overhear your conversation with Charlie, after all. You couldn't blame him. You would've done the same.

"Alastor, I understand..."

"Do you now?", he asked, tilting his head to one side, an incredulous smirk playing on his lips. Lips that were suddenly awfully close to your own. When did he get so close? Why did he get so close?!

Everything slowed down - his arm snaked around your waist, his hand came up to your neck, a thumb caressing the little dip of the bottom of your jaw. Your trembling hands came to rest on his chest, and you felt his heartbeat hammering underneath the fabric of his jacket. His eyes, those beautiful crimson eyes, were fixed on yours, and your breath came out in a shaky sigh before his lips closed over yours, kissing you so softly and sweetly you could barely comprehend what was happening. Your fingers gripped the lapels of his jacket, holding on for dear life, and as he deepened the kiss, you gasped, your whole body tensing, melting, yearning.

It felt like a dream, an out of body experience, and for a short, panicked moment, you felt the cold, hard grip of fear around your heart. What if it was just a dream, and when you wake up, everything is back to the way it was before? What if he would pull away any moment, and apologize, saying he made a mistake?

But the fear disappeared almost immediately, when Alastor hummed contently, and pulled you even closer to him.

You could feel the warmth of his body, the way his hand on your neck got tangled in your hair, how his breath was mingling with yours, and the scent of him filled your nose. The faint smell of spices, old books, wood and something like burnt amber, a scent you would never get enough of.

"Now tell me, dearest, if you understood.", he murmured against your lips, the grin audible in his voice.

"I... might need a little more explanation."

You could almost hear him roll his eyes as he leaned in to kiss you again, and his laughter against your lips made your heart skip more than just one beat. The sound of wood cracking and a loud rumble snapped both of your heads towards your door.

In a pile of heads and limbs, five bodies fell through the splintered wood of your door frame, groaning in pain, the remains of the door still swinging in its hinges.

Alastor looked at the pile of eavesdroppers, a wide, dangerous grin on his face.

"Dear me, what an entrance. I wonder, did the door offend you, or was that the result of a lack of proper manners?"

Angel, being the first to poke his head out of the groaning mess of sinners, pointed at you with one of his arms, the others fisted the air in victory.

"A-HA! WE FUCKING DID IT, fuck yeah!"

Niffty, the next one to crawl out of the pile, nodded eagerly.

"I knew it, I knew it, I knew it!", she chanted, jumping up and down excitedly on a groaning Husk's back.

Charlie's face came into view, a guilty look on her face as she untangled the others in a hurry, shoving them out of the door.

"Uh, so, sorry, the door was kinda in the way. Didn't want to interrupt anything, sooo, We're just gonna... get back to cooking."

With her tail between her legs, the flustered princess and her entourage vanished faster than the speed of light, leaving you and Alastor alone with your heart pounding fast, your hands still clutching the front of the overlords jacket, and his arms around your waist in a protective embrace, your breaths mingling.

"Would it bother you terribly if I killed them?", Alastor growled low in his throat, his smile widening.

You just couldn't stop grinning. "As tempting as that is... I rather you don't. For now, that is. Ask me again when they are finished cooking."

He returned your smile. "Fair enough, dear."

He closed the gap between you and his lips meet yours halfway in a soft, and most certainly not-enough-to-last-a-lifetime kind of kiss. You thought you could get used to this.

"I'm sure they can handle lunch by themselves, don't you think?", he hummed into your ear. You didn't trust your voice to reply, and simply nodded.

"Wonderful."

Tagging all commenters on 'More than words', because LOVE @mysterypotatoink @ladyzaunis @penelope-potter @lustylita @saints-wrapped-in-plastic @katgirl05 @deadt3tinside and @minkdelovely (for the daily dose of fluff)

[joelsbloodyhands]

HISTORY, HUH?

Din Djarin x Reader, Boba Fett x Reader (small teaser)

DESCRIPTION: When you get injured by a bounty, Din takes you to Mos Espa to get help from an old comrade. AKA; Din gets jealous when he finds out you and Boba have history.

WARNINGS: Discussions of injuries involving blood, descriptions of jealous behaviour, references to smut 🔞 but not explicitly written, references to gun use (ahem blaster use!), mentions thoughts of torture (just readers imagination), kissing, mentions of panic underwater, Din being clingy af, established relationship with Din, past history with Boba, a sprinkle of angst, unrequited love.

Dividers by @saradika-graphics 🚀✨ cover photos from Pinterest

READER does not have a specified gender, they/them pronouns used. Reader is in an established romantic relationship with Din. Reader has parent relationship with Grogu (no gendered title used). Reader does not have a visible disability and has hair long enough to be pulled over their shoulder.

“I know this one,” Boba speaks, his eyes on your unconscious body, focused intently on your pained expression in a deep slumber. Din lifts his gaze, analysing the fellow bounty hunter uneasily. Din’s gloved hand rests instinctively on top of yours, laid flat against your stomach, his eyes darkening behind his helmet, unable to read his comrades face behind his own green weathered mask.

“In what regard?” Din speaks, his own tone scaring him.

Boba’s shoulders relax with a sigh as he looks you over again, “Little troublemaker,” Din hears a hint of playfulness in his words, a hidden note of admiration.

“We’ve crossed paths before. Can’t say I’m surprised to see them in such a predicament,” Boba gestures to your mangled shin and bruised shoulder. “How did this happen?” He asks and Din’s taken aback slightly by his sharp, disapproving tone.

“My bounty. Chased him down an alley, tried to corner him but he had allies. We were cornered and well…they…,” he runs a thumb over the back of your hand, his tone holding a hint of regret, “Well, they stopped him but-“

“Not without injury,” Boba responds, his voice a pitch lower, Din’s head turning once again, apprehending his friend’s sudden anger. Though was Boba’s anger directed towards the bounty or Din himself for putting you in harms way? He couldn’t tell.

“We should get them into the bacta tank immediately,” he lifts his head then, meeting Din’s piercing gaze. Though neither of them could see the others expression, Boba still cocks his head at the mandalorian, a wry smile playing on his lips. “You can trust me, my friend. I have no quarrel with your companion.”

Din hesitates, looking to the end of the room at the large metal windowed casket. “I’d feel more at ease if you explained your history,” he speaks, his head turning back to Boba who adjusts the blaster in his hand almost uncomfortably.

“Not my business to tell. I’d sooner face your wrath than theirs,” he nods to your face again, soft pained murmurs leaving your mouth now. Din squeezes your shoulder very gently, Boba watching him murmur sweet assurances in your ear, his cheeks warming underneath his helmet.

There’s no saying how long the two men stood hovering over your body silently, almost both deliberating how to move you to the bacta tank. Or more so not “how” but “who” would actually carry you there. Din found his hands slipping under your thighs and back, hoisting you against his chest gently, your head falling against the cold metal of his chest piece. You mumbled as he carried you over to the middle of the room. It took a moment for heavy footsteps to follow behind him, a gloved hand tapping buttons to open the glass chamber. Din laid you down into it while Boba watched him, analysing his movements with intrigue.

"If you can hear me, cya'rika," Din softly speaks causing Boba's fingers to stiffen above the control panel, "you are safe. This device should help the healing process. I will be close by. Do not fear. We are with trusted friends.” Din lifts his head almost seeking confirmation for the latter from Boba who nods once firmly. Din takes your hands in his as soft breaths leave your pained lips, he places your hands so that they are overlapping on your chest and then mindlessly taking the breathing mask Boba was holding out to him, placing it over your mouth and nose securely. Din forces himself to pull back from his protective hold against your hands, allowing the capsule to encase your body, filling quickly with the fluid as Boba's configures from the panel.

"How long does it take?" Din asks, his voice weak and rough, his eyes watering at the sight of your body so close yet feeling so far from him.

"Depends upon the injury," Boba starts, his eyes darting between the two of you; the Mandalorian he had come to known as a trusted ally and the trusted ally he had come to know for far more in his heart. "For this injury, perhaps an hour or less. Until then, we can wait in the throne room."

"I will not leave their side," the Mandalorian's words come out thick and unable to be coerced otherwise.

Boba sighs, his eyes back on your injury, the flesh of your ligament already re-growing, "they would not wish for you to stand by and wait. They'll be angry upon awakening if I know anything about their attitude towards injury in battle. There will be an air of shame-"

"It is not THEIR fault," Din argues, feeling an overwhelming sense of grief for allowing this to happen.

"I am not placing blame on anyone," Boba asserts, his voice lowering an octave to indicate to his old comrade that he means no threat. "But as I mentioned before, the...troublemaker and I have history. I know this. They would want you to take care of yourself while the opportunity allows it so that they can heal and awaken when the time is right."

Din shakes his head, his fists clenching, his visor focused solely on you and you alone.

He knows Boba is right.

You never did fare well when you got injured during a bounty hunt. You were self-deprecating, kicking yourself that you could have done better. It took the soft side of Din to convince you that you were good enough to fight alongside him. HIM who you called the best of the best, "a true warrior that I could only long to compare to. The fight is your religion. Your creed has taught you well." With all the sweet words of praise you've whispered to Din both in casual passing and intimately in the dark confines of your shared bunk, Din can only try to offer you the same but where he may excel in battle, he lacks in performance of admiration.

One which he vows to improve upon when you awaken.

"Fine," Din responds just when Boba's defeated steps move towards the large entryway.

"We will wait."

Some time later...

"Din..." you had started, grasping for your second blaster at your thigh. "There's another one-"

You are awaken abruptly with a jolt at the blaring sound of blaster fire colliding in your head. Your eyes widen, stinging and only allowing a fog of vision when you thrash suddenly, your hands thrusting forward, palms hitting a wall that you shove at mindlessly.

You're in water.

Or at least some sort of fluid.

Your movements are slowed. Your eyes blinking uncomfortably. There's some sort of mask over the lower half of your face, allowing air bubbles to escape above you.

You try to calm, your heart beating unsteadily.

One minute you were being shot at, the next you were here.

Where the kriff was Din? Grogu?

You moan out loud, trying to make some noise, your palms attempting to hit the wall blocking you from escaping.

Did they get hurt? Did Grogu get taken? Or were you captured and now laying in some sort of torture device awaiting your inevitable demise? What if Grogu was being dissected and Din was being beaten to death in the next room?

Fuck no. Calm. Calm down.

You close your eyes. Allowing your arms to drop slowly in the surrounding liquid.

Jumping to conclusion. Panicking solves nothing. I think better when I'm relaxed, you tell yourself, slowly but surely letting your fingers graze the surrounding hard bubble finding sharp edges beside your body.

There has to be a way out from the inside, you think.

Just when the panic returns, thoughts of Din hanging unconscious nearby or your sweet son laying on a ice cold table, your finger slips on something square and hard, causing a red light to blare in the liquid and a sudden suction sound to drag all the fluid down from your body. Your hands move quickly then, yanking at the mask over your mouth, the wall that you now realise was a windowed case, slides open. You cough, your hands going instinctively to your abdomen and leg, fingers smoothing over your skin exposed by the gaping rips in your clothing where the shots burnt through.

Healed.

Your eyes widen. Not a single mark of evidence that you were even shot to shit to begin with. Your neck snaps up, your eyes blinking away the remaining fluid taking in the room.

Wait...I know this place. Don't I? That banner.

Two banners hang from the stone ceiling above a large arched entry baring an embroidered signet you're all too familiar with.

"Well fuck," you say out loud, a grin plastering your lips.

You swing your legs off the side of the strange coffin-like device, your eyes overlooking it with a quirked brow. You slip off the side, wobbling slightly on numb legs, pins and needles in your feet as you wiggle your toes to rid of the discomfort.

Your legs carry you drunkenly from the room and under the large moss green banners, allowing one last grin to grace your features. You're not taking any notice of the water staining the stone floor with puddles as you pass through familiar rooms, carrying your fatigued body past a simple throne. You roll your eyes at it momentarily, a smirk on your lips when you stop at the sight in front of you.

Two visors snap to attention in your direction, standing in alarm at your unexpected presence.

“Huh,” you say with intrigue, overlooking the two men opposite each other at a table.

Grogu in the middle stuffing his face with soup, making a squeal of happiness when he sees you.

“This is a sight I never thought I’d see,” you murmur loud enough for them to hear, approaching the table while they both round it, Din more hurriedly than the green armoured man hovering near his abandoned chair.

Your full attention taken by the green bean making grabby hands your way, your smile gracing your features as Din manoeuvres your wet hair from your cheek and tucks it behind your ear.

“Are you well?” He speaks, gaze flashing to Boba whose busy looking over your exposed leg and stomach.

“I am, hey baby,” you soothe when approaching your small son, lifting Grogu from his high chair and bouncing him on your side when he takes your face into his hands, babbling a mix of mando’a and nonsense.

“Yes I’m okay, bean. I feel a lot better now. Please don’t worry,” your head lifts but it’s not Din who catches your attention, it’s the other armoured man, stood to your left, his wandering gaze lifting to your own.

“Boba,” you nod and he does the same back.

“Star-shine,” he speaks back and you don’t miss the way Din’s body turns rigid at the pet name.

You scoff, stifling a chuckle, “can’t remember the last time you called me that.”

Din’s hand slips to your side, gently tugging you further into him, his beskar cold to the touch against your wet skin.

You look up at him in surprise.

Din rarely instigated affection in the presence of others. It was then you realise he hadn’t turned his head from Boba, staring him down through his visor.

You’re distracted by what seems to be the growing tension between both men until you feel softness sliding over your bare shoulders, hands gently tugging the material around your body.

You smile.

“Fennec,” your body turns to meet a familiar grin, hands sliding around your wet hair to pull it over the blanket.

“You caused quite the worry,” she notes with amusement, her eyes glancing between the two warriors and back to you with raised brows.

Your cheeks burn when you realise neither helmet has turned back to you. Though unable to see their expressions, you had a feeling you didn’t need to.

“Din?” You try and sure enough the visor tilts back to you immediately, his stiff body relaxing and moulding into yours again. His fingers clutch your side.

“Mesh’la?” You look down uncomfortably at your wet clothes but before Din can respond, his shoulders lifting in realisation of what you’re asking, another voice cuts in.

“The trunk in your chambers houses some of your wares,” you mentally groan, watching Din’s body stiffen again.

Boba continues without a beat, “I’ll escort you.”

Fennec hides a smile when Din incapacitates.

“We’ll manage,” his hand taking yours possessively and wandering off towards a hallway just behind.

Fennec calls after, “on the right,” watching you both disappear and watching you get dragged into the room with a bewildered expression at the steel back in front of you.

She turns and looks back at the green helmet, dropping his visor from your direction back to her raised brows, “really?”

"It's been awhile," you say without a beat, tugging the long leather jacket over your figure, a shiver running up you while you stand outside in front of the palace.

“I didn’t think you would return,” the aged modulator responds.

Boba turns from his stance in the middle of the path up to the palace gate, his visor focusing in on you.

You allow a small smile to grace your lips as you walk to his side, watching the people of Mos Espa go about their daily markets.

“Not of my own choice anyway,” you tease and smile to yourself when the older man falls silent, his visor back on the market stalls.

Din had gone to fetch the Crest. You had offered to walk the short distance to it just on the outskirts of the town but your still uneasy figure had Din retaliating immediately and with a pressured look at Fennec who stood near the entryway to your room smiling curiously, he ordered her to watch over you while he went to retrieve the ship.

That was only a few minutes ago.

You left Fennec to babysit Grogu much to her narrowed gaze at the small child and her initial refusal. You had stifled an amused laugh when you left them to retrieve some fresh clothes and found her walking him around the palace rooms showing him artefacts from travels and battles. It gave you the opportunity to slip away to get some air. Grateful to have a moments peace since being encased in that tomb you now learned was a bacta tank.

“Thank you, by the way,” you spoke up, noticing the way Boba’s shoulders relaxed slightly under his rigid armor. “You didn’t have to help but you did. I’m grateful and in your debt if you ever need anything.”

“I think we’re past owing each other debts whenever one of us saves the others life. Would you not agree, star-shine?”

You smile slips only momentarily, “you’re angry at me?”

“No,” it comes out rushed and slightly raised. Boba falls silent a moment and you know he’s deliberating the delivery of his words before speaking them aloud. As was his nature as ruler of Mos Espa.

“Star-shine,” Boba spoke and you couldn’t mistake the way it shook slightly.

You turned looking to him.

“I know you are a wanderer. Content with roaming the planets to your own leisure but please do not forget that you have a home here in Mos Espa. In our home.”

He punctured the word “our” and you swear you saw the way his helmet tipped to the silver one you were now well aware of looming behind you silently.

Boba clears his throat, “at least, remember to visit when you have some time. I know Fennec would be grateful to see you. She’s very fond of you.”

You smile.

You understand what he means.

This isn’t about Fennec.

“I’ve missed you too, Boba,” you smile and you watch as his visor turns to the bustling market nearby like before, “and again thank you for answering Din’s distress call.” You turn your head, meeting the silver visor now looking down at you, a gloved hand seeking yours, “and allowing me use of your bacta tank. I know how important that device is for you. You look well.”

Boba turns back then and you notice the way his previously hunched shoulders relax slightly at your informality of which he wasn’t sure he could share with you.

“And you?” Boba inquires, his visor dancing between you and Din. “You are well?”

You are happy and safe with this Mandalorian companion you seek refuge with?

You nod, a peaceful expression on your face as your fingers intertwine with the gloved one tightening in your grip.

“You have history,” Din mentions, trying to seem nonchalant about prying for the information he so desperately needs to know.

You were both back in hyperspace now. The reunion pleasant but short-lived. You felt a small ache in your chest, missing the familiarity of the planet you were speeding away from but there was a relief too being back on the Crest.

“Somewhat,” you respond with a shrug, rocking Grogu to sleep in your arms, his small green hand clutching your shirt.

“He wouldn’t tell me how you knew each other,” Din added, pressing buttons to get the ship into auto pilot.

You smile, “probably didn’t want to upset you.”

Din turns in his chair then, swiftly, his boots stopping the full turn harshly against the floor of the ship as he meets your gaze.

“Did he hurt you?”

You laugh in response causing his cheeks to redden.

“More like the other way around,” you grin.

“Oh, what did he do?” Din asks and you clock the obvious innocent tone he’s implying, knowing full well he’s desperate for information.

You humor him. “Ner kar’ta,” you begin making Din’s heart race at his language gracing your lips, “it’s endearing how much you trust that I wouldn’t harm someone without reason. You truly think me so innocent?”

Din sways slightly in his chair, distracted by your beauty, his lips tugging up mirroring the smirk on your lips.

“To ease you, it was at the start of our relationship. It was how we met.”

You let off there. Not speaking another word, waiting for Din to press you further.

“Tell me,” his words reach your ears, oh so quiet and sweet.

You fight a smile.

“If you must know, I shot him.”

You giggle and Din sits forward with immediate interest.

“Why?” he asks.

You elaborate.

“At the time, I was seeking passage on a supply ship. One of which Boba and his allies choose to infiltrate. Of course he thought me a threat and of course I thought him a common pirate so we had a stand off which resulted in me shooting him point blank in the abdomen. Fennec appeared then. It seemed she saw right through me and stepped between us. She explained that the real pirates were these people that I was travelling with and I agreed to assist them for a price. Enough money for off planet travel to Naboo. She agreed, on Boba’s behalf and much to his rejection might I add. It seems Fennec took a liking to me.”

“A rare thing,” Din adds and you nod.

“So we took control of the ship. It was rather simple. They already trusted me of course. We landed it in Mos Espa and I assisted Fennec with getting Boba to aid. I housed with them for some time. Safe to say we didn’t like each other to start but with time, a sort of friendship happened.”

“And more?” Din asks quietly.

“Are you jealous, Din Djarin?” You ask, causing him to evade your intense gaze, head turning from you.

“I don’t mind if you are. I rather like jealousy on you, ner riduur.”

Din’s head flashes back to you.

It’s the first time you’ve used that term and one Din has yearned for quite some time since you started travelling and establishing a relationship, parenting Grogu between you.

“I just…I know it isn’t my business,” Din sighs, “but I just need to know if-“

“We only kissed, my love. That’s all,” you smile reassuringly.

Din doesn’t like any mention of the fellow Bounty Hunter touching you but his body does relax at the thought of the two of you progressing no further than a brief kiss. Though, the way Boba looked upon you and spoke to you betrayed any thoughts that whatever the older man saw of you was anything far from platonic.

“He confessed his feelings for me,” you add, grinning at the look of surprise you know would be plastered on Din’s face.

“I know I was shocked too.”

Din’s cheeks blaze, he’s always taken aback when you can tell how he’s reacting under his helmet.

Your smile slips, “I felt bad though.”

Din remains silent, knowing there is more to this story that you need to get off your chest.

“I’ve never seen him that vulnerable before. He’s usually so stoic. It wasn’t like I must confess, I have developed feelings for you. You know how he can be all formal and shit, yeah well, nothing like that. He was genuinely all like, shit, I think I’m falling for you. I don’t fucking know why.”

Din shakes his head in shock at what you’re saying. None of it sounds like the bounty hunter he fought alongside at all.

You shuffle uncomfortably, trying not to rouse your sleeping child, “There was a lot of cursing, believe it or not. A lot of pacing, his face was as red as the surface of Dathomir. You had to be there. I told Fennec. She didn’t believe me for a second then apparently he started venting to her in the middle of the throne room while they were waiting on a contact to show up because I was leaving the next morning.”

Din speaks the words that have been eating away at his brain while you’ve been recounting the story to him.

“Did you share his affections?” His voice betrays him, trembling at the last syllable.

“I don’t think so?” Your brows furrow, shaking your head in exasperation, “Did my heart flutter a bit when I would watch him in a fight? Yeah it did. I quite like how stern he can be. Makes me think how different he might be intimately but I don’t know, it just seemed more like curiosity than anything else. I still didn’t feel a want to remain in Mos Espa. I wanted to explore, see the universe. With or without him…it didn’t really matter to me.”

“Do you feel that way about me?” Din eagerly responds.

“No,” your answer is immediate, your eyes fixated determinedly on Din’s visor.

He’s silent when you explain.

“When we met, it was more than finding you hot when you beat the shit out of a bounty or curious about how sexy you looked under that helmet.”

Din’s fingers twitch, adjusting his seating position when his lower half feels like it’s tightening against his armor.

“it wasn’t curiosity. It was genuine desire. That’s the difference. It was the desire to wake up to you every day, regardless of what mood you might’ve been in. I craved your praise whenever you would tell me I did a good job watching over Grogu or when you were teaching me how to shoot. My heart still goes crazy whenever you’re even an inch behind me and I can sense your looming figure above me.”

Din’s heart pounds at your words.

“I am so in love with you, Din.”

Your eyes soften with your words.

Your lips plush as the confession he’s already aware of graces your lips once again. Spoken even more beautifully than the first time you had admitted to him, that the time you had spent together meant far more to you than business.

You wanted pleasure too.

You wanted it from him and in every way that he would give it.

And he’d give you anything you asked.

Din stands, his body gravitating to you, taking a knee before your chair.

You drop your head back, closing your eyes and inhaling sharply when you feel the cool metal touch your forehead delicately.

“Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum.”

You can’t fight back the smile twitching at your lips.

“I desire a life with you, Din,” his heart clenches at your words, his fingers brushing your lower back lovingly.

“And our son and whatever other foundlings you would want with me,” you smile shyly at him and he shakes his head with a chuckle.

“Mesh’la…I know you’re not teasing when you say that and I would be lying if I said it wasn’t a desire of mine as well,” your eyes sparkle up at him, surprised by this new information. “But what about seeing the universe? Travelling from planet to planet? Isn’t that what you want before deciding to settle down with me?”

You sigh happily, using your one free arm to slide up past his chest, embracing around his helmet and pulling him closer.

“I’ve seen the universe, Din. I have. I wake up to it everyday. Every time I’m in your arms.” You gaze sweetly through his visor, feeling the way his arms tighten around you.

“Close your eyes.”

An order.

One which you’re more than willing to obey knowing the outcome.

You close your eyes, hearing the sound of metal clattering on the near console before feeling soft lips caressing yours.

!!Bonus Scene!!:

You’re in the cargo hold having since put Grogu to bed, organising food portions in a trunk near Din’s weaponry. You thought the bounty Hunter was busy sat in his flight chair navigating to your next refuge, so it was safe to say you were scared shitless when his modulator sounded close behind you.

“Is he a better kisser than me?”

You smirk but it fades quickly when you turn around to face him towering over you, his body moving closer and crowding you so much your back hits the cold wall of the ship behind you. You take a moment, searching the darkened visor focused on you like prey.

You let a wry smile reach your hot cheeks, batting your eyelashes at him.

“You’ll have to remind me.”

It takes a second for the lights of the ship to go out, plunging you into darkness, a crash of metal against the floor and warm lips meeting yours hungrily.

“Where’s our boy?” He pulls back breathlessly, your heart pacing at the rugged tone of his voice no longer hidden by a modulator.

“In our bunk,” you reply, feeling his ungloved hands on your face, relishing in the feel of his calloused fingers dancing along your jawline. His hands slip down your arms, gently grazing the insides of your wrists making you weak before intertwining your fingers and tugging you back towards the ladder.

“The chair it is then,” Din responds, his hand guiding your lower back now against the ladder crowding up behind you while you remain blind in the dark. His hands taking yours and placing them against the cool metal to guide you up.

[staticymaticyyourlifeisatravesty]

Guilliman's Soup

"Look, I'm not going to harm any of you, not unless it involves stuffing Guilliman in a room without his....." Fulgrim trails off, the demon prince's lower half coiling in discomfort as he stares at the abomination that bubbled within the pot. It smelled distinctly of both Mjød and cigarettes, appearing as something that Fulgrim was uncertain if even a Nurgling would eat. He certainly wouldn't. Actually he doesn't think any Slaaneshi demon is depraved enough to even attempt to make such a thing. He shakes his head. "Will I be allowed to help?" Calgar, who was certainly not at all expecting to see the demon prince of excess himself at the entrance to the Imperial palace, couldn't decide if this was a good thing or a bad thing. On one hand it meant that his primarch wasn't affected by any chaos god, if even Slaanesh was getting involved; on the other, did he really want to accept the help of a demon prince? Especially one that is well.... Calgar sighs deeply, "Fine, you might actually be a good deterrent to Dante anyway. He's been a pain in the ass" "Who is-" Fulgrim doesn't get to finish his sentence as a very old marine of what appears to be of the blood angel's chapter is shooed away by a serf with a broom, wacking the marine's shins with it as he hisses like an angry goose. Fulgrim has his answer on who Dante is but is now even further confused, "I thought Blood Angels were supposed to be noble?" "I'm hoping the soup will kill me" Dante helpfully responds which has the demon prince blinking in utter shock, because what the fuck happened to Sanguinius' sons!? Another Ultramarine, this one apparently named Cato is crawling on his hands and knees out of the room where Dante came from, coughing and generally being a rather sad sight with the stench of both vomit and the abominable liquid upon his breath. Slaanesh, who just briefly decided to turn her head towards whatever the fuck her demon prince was doing, vomits and mutters 'I can't believe none of this was Nurgle's idea; he actually wants the fucking recipe!'. Needless to say, Fulgrim doesn't really want to know what's exactly in that pot. Instead he dryly says "I'm amazed this hasn't summoned anything other then myself..." Calgor sighs "No, it has, there's the Sanguinor, and it's currently being kept back by some Sister of Silence out of fear that it's going to beat Dante to death with a sandle. Personally I'm not fond of trying to explain to the blood angels that we didn't kill their chapter master; it was the soul of Sanguinius, himself, that ended his life. I can't see that going too well...And Cato, please stop eating father's soup." "But-" "No buts or I'm throwing you into the same room as the Sanguinor" That stopped any more protests out of Cato who shuddered at the very idea of confronting the very angry warp spirit that was half of mind to possess someone.

The sound of what Fulgrim could still recognize after all these years as a very angry Leman Russ can be heard in the distance yelling "WHAT DID YOU FUCKING DO WITH MY FUCKING MJOD, ROBOUTE!?" This was going to be a long and terrible process, Fulgrim just knows it. ____ This short story was inspired by a convo between myself and @moociaoafterdark on this post.

[saeun]

tartaglia post please............. my ginger princess.......... stop posting abt genshin and start writing.......... 😔

+ love, ‘su: smth smth tar-tar-taglia lover of snezhnayan queen ﾉ childe insists you like being called ‘doll’

“seriously, you’re fucking dead.”

“no, i’m fucking ajax—ouch!?”

a firm kick to his shin was all it took to shut him up. it’s to be expected that even a crazed battle man like him couldn’t resist the pain of heels. well, to be precise, being kicked by someone wearing heels.

you’re familiar with childe, much to your dismay. you’ve always gotten into squabbles with him when you two were younger. it’s extended to your adulthood. as if your fathers being the best of buds weren’t enough, they mistook your hate for the boy as young love. elder people and their beliefs will soon bring the nation into shambles.

“you must bully him because you like him, right sweetie?” your foolish father would tease you, nudging your mother’s arm.

childe also wasn’t free from the teasing. his younger sisters would often sing a song, suggesting romance between him and the girl he swore to believe is a man.

see, you two aren’t enemies, but you aren’t friends either. you both just happened to have a dislike for the other. if you were good at something, he’d be better. if he were good at something, you’d be better. to him, you’re like a roach that refuses to die. to you, he’s like a fly that won’t stop buzzing.

perhaps this is what both your families saw. you two were so similar that it caused rivalry. the fathers, however, saw this as an opportunity. what better way to connect the best of buds than to become in-laws? it’s a picture-perfect plan! a plan that didn’t require the consent of the two parties involved because they foresaw the fat “no.”

that is how you were left with him in a room alone. you’re not sure if you’re going crazy because of the annoyance, but you are pretty sure you heard a chair being dragged to lock the door from the outside.

you rushed home from an outing with friends due to an emergency call from your father. next time, you’ll remind yourself to not answer any of his calls. your outfit is now being wasted in the guest’s room.

“what?” raising an eyebrow, childe looked at you up and down, observing your appearance.

“oh, did you get dolled up for me? how sweet of you but i’m not— fuck.” he held his tongue, hissing at the pain of yet another kick.

“i did not get “dolled up” for you, okay? don’t be an asshole,” you spat, crossing your arms.

childe laughed the pain off, stretching his arms as he turned his back to you, walking to the lovely bed your mother prepared for him.

once he got comfortable, he turned on his side, propping his head up with his hand.

“you can stand there if you want, or join me.” patting the space beside him, he teased you. childe’s aware of how annoying heels can be to stand in. he has sisters and a mother — he never hears the end of it.

unfortunately for you, your pride bested you. you held your head high, refusing to lay on the same bed as him.

...unfortunately for you, childe’s also an asshole that can turn people’s words and their meanings around.

“so you’re standing there because you don’t want to ruin your outfit? my, you really got dolled up for me.”

hook, line, and sinker. you took the bait. thanks to his provoking, you kicked the heels off, practically stomping to the bed. you laid on your back, keeping your arms folded across your chest.

“hi, doll.” a sickening voice laced with honey spoke.

“fuck off.” a fitting response.

“no. i don’t want to.”

however, childe will always be childe. he cannot “fuck off” because you want him to. he will continue to fuck on and bear the consequences later.

“but if i fuck off, who’s gonna see you dolled up again? how cruel, doll,” he faked a cry, wiping the invisible tears.

“stop calling me that!” you ordered, furrowing your eyebrows at the nickname.

“haha, no.”

you didn’t respond. instead, you closed your eyes. maybe some sleep will help.

or maybe not.

bold of you to think you of all people can get even a minute’s rest when he's around. he’s not childe if he doesn’t extend an arm to poke your cheek — multiple times.

you refused to yield, so he carried on. since the poking won’t work, he fiddled with your earrings.

that, too, didn’t work. he’s running out of things to do with his hand. perhaps it’s time to up his game.

shuffling closer to you, he leaned in to your ear, readying himself to whisper nonsense to disrupt your so-called slumber.

“psst, i’m gonna tell everyone you like being called doll.”

“don’t you fucking dare.” your eyes shot open immediately, looking at the perpetrator with disgust.

“look at that, you woke up!” he cheered, smiling at you. “my, my. you really do like being called doll…”

you took a slow blink, coming to the realisation that he’s going to do whatever he wants. whether it’s calling you “doll” or becoming the bane of your existence.

[slytherinshua]

YOU, CLOUDS, RAIN

summary. tws coming home after a tiring day. genre. fluff/comfort. headcanons. warnings. just a lot of exhaustion. food mentioned in almost all of them and brief mention of crying in hanjin's. not proofread. pairing. tws x reader. wc. 714. request. requested by @xmhaoluvr!! a/n. these boys literally deserve the world. also this is literally what i need after today (i did nothing but still exhausted) lmfao 😭😭😭

SHIN JUNGHWAN ﾐ 신정환

Junghwan would still be in leader mode after a long day. As soon as he gets home he’s already asking you if you’ve eaten or need anything, and you’d have to tell him to slow down and rest. After waking up at the crack of dawn, performing all day, and having to keep track of all the members, he’s so exhausted. He forgets that home is the place where he can just relax. You’d help him unwind, making sure he takes a nice bath and eats a good dinner before cuddling up in bed. He feels so relieved that he has you to rely on, because for the entire day, everyone else was relying on him. 

KIM DOHOON ﾐ 김도훈

You could tell Dohoon was extremely tired the second he walked through the door. He falls completely on top of you. He doesn’t want to talk about it, all he wants is to fall asleep in your arms. You help him relax and massage his muscles if he’s feeling really sore. Once you make sure that nothing really bad had happened (he just missed you a lot and was super tired during his schedules), you’re happy to call in for the night early. Making sure that all your attention is on Dohoon until he falls asleep, even if you aren’t tired enough to sleep just yet. Him getting rest is what is most important to you.

CHOI YOUNGJAE ﾐ 최영재

Youngjae is usually so calm and gentle, but after a long day testing his patience for hours, he’s already past his limit once he gets home. He knows that if he tries to talk to you, he’d most likely say something he didn’t mean. So instead of letting you help him with food or a bath, he goes to shower by himself, leaving you in the bedroom to wait for him. He takes an extra 20 minutes in the shower just unwinding after the exhausting day. He feels so much better once he’s out of the shower, having cleared his head and worked the knots out of his body. He’ll want to get his fill of kisses before he falls asleep, relaxing further to your comforting scent. 

HAN ZHEN ﾐ 韩振

Hanjin is so relieved to be home after a taxing day, he’d most likely cry as soon as he’s back in your arms :( He definitely needs sleep, but more than that he wants to get as many hugs and kisses as he can. He refuses to sleep until you’ve completed your usual nighttime routine, involving skincare, matching pyjamas, and cuddling while watching a drama episode. He definitely starts dozing halfway through the episode because he’s so tired </3 But you would make sure he’s comfortable wrapped in your arms, not minding that you’d have to rewatch the episode again another day. Him getting rest is what is most important, and it warms your heart that he only wants to do it in your arms. 

HAN JIHOON ﾐ 한지훈

Jihoon crashes like no one else the minute he steps inside. He’s always trying to keep his energy up for everyone else the entire day that once he gets home it’s like his battery fully died. His eyes were already threatening to close as he took off his shoes, and you would have to keep him awake enough to eat and shower before he falls asleep. If he falls asleep on the couch before making it up to bed, good luck dragging him up there because he’s not waking up. You’d have to get him an extra blanket and make sure he’s warm and comfortable so that he doesn’t wake up in pain.

LEE KYUNGMIN ﾐ 이경민

Kyungmin always works so hard during the day that by the end of it, his brain has logged out. I think his tiredness would make him easily distractible, so while he’s eating he would zone out at one spot or forget to blink. You would be asking him questions, like if he wants you to run him a bath or if he needs anything else, but his brain wouldn’t even be able to process it. He’s sheepishly telling you that he’s fine, but you can tell he needs sleep so bad. He feels bad for how disoriented he is, but you assure him that you don’t mind and him getting sleep as soon as possible is most important.

↳ tws taglist (bolded could not be tagged): @eternalgyu,, @seunghancore,, @sobun1est,, @talkingsaxy,, @50-husbands,,

@hursheys,, @imyuna-06,, @kristianities,, @stannwjnss,, @nonononranghaee

[midnight-writing]

Poolside Confessions

Pairing: Conrad Fisher x gn!reader

Series: The Summer I Turned Pretty

Summary: One late-night talk by the pool leads to realizations between Conrad and you.

Word Count: 1,641

Warnings: Light marijuana usage

A/N: I tried to keep this gender neutral. Reader is written on the shyer side, just didn’t want to add too many modifiers to the pairing. No use of y/n. Not beta read.

The sun is low in the sky as you gaze out through the kitchen window toward the back patio. The horizon is starting to shift from light hues of blue to a blend of yellows and reds. The view is beautiful, but you’re instead focused on the figure sitting at the pool edge. 

It wasn’t out of the ordinary for you to see Conrad sitting out there, somewhere on the edge of the pool, but for some reason you had the urge to join him this time. Fortunately for you, you weren’t involved in any of the conversations going on in the kitchen where you were all sitting or standing around. So you slip your way past the kitchen archway, over to the patio doors then out the back. 

You pad your way down the steps toward Conrad, trying to at least make some noise with your bare feet so you don’t startle him. You sit down next to him, keeping a decent space between you both in case he really doesn’t want to be bothered right now. As close as the two of you are, it’s still difficult sometimes to see the signs of whether he actually wants to be alone. When you’ve sat —your knees tucked to your chest and your hands wrapped around them— he doesn’t shift or make any attempt to move away, a good sign. 

“What are you doing out here?” he asks, not yet looking at you, his eyes set on the pool water as he lifts a joint to his mouth. 

“Managed to escape like you did,” you reply and rub your shins absentmindedly to induce some heat. Shorts and a tank top had worked well for the daytime temperatures, but as the sun left the sky, a light chilly breeze came in. He doesn’t respond, instead he simply holds out the rolled-up piece of paper, you take the joint, put it to your lips and breathe in, letting the smoke ruminate a moment before you breathe it out. “Too many conversations at once,” you add on then hand it back to him. You enjoyed the company but there were too many voices, some too loud for you. Leaving the house not only gave you a chance to indulge your curiosity about Conrad but it let you calm your anxiety. 

“Oh and here I was thinking you came out to see me,” he teases, “I’m offended,” he sets a hand on his heart. 

You can’t help but roll your eyes, “I did come out here to see you, dork, getting away was just an added plus,” 

“Yeah, I’ll buy that for now,” he takes another hit of the joint, but when it's your turn and you reach for the joint, he leans back on one hand and uses the other to hold the cigarette far from you. 

“What- hey, I thought we were sharing now,” you question as you reach for it. 

“After you just called me dork?” his eyebrows scrunch slightly. 

“Oh come on,” as you reach for the joint, he’s leaned back, and you’ve turned your body to face him as you lean over him slightly. He just puffs smoke at your face in response, that smug look on his face returning. You sigh in defeat and sit back beside him once again, inches closer this time. 

“Seems like I’m a bad influence, especially if you’re willing to try and fight me for my own weed,” he turns to finally look at you. He knows that the one goal you have this summer is to socialize more, yet here you are. 

“The worst,” you reply as you take the joint when he finally holds it out to you again.  

“What were they talking about?” He's curious, you know he needs the space but you’re also aware that missing out on conversations can still bug him sometimes. 

You think back to the kitchen, “One was about something funny that happened at Jeremiah’s job today and another was about Laurel’s new love interest,” you smile at those last words. You’ve been friends with Belly for years now and have subsequently been to the vacation house quite a few times in the past few summers. Over the time you’ve known Belly you’ve gotten to know her family amongst others in her circle, which is how you got to know the Fishers. 

“Cleveland,” he says knowingly. 

“Mhm” 

“Does it seem serious? It’s been a while since she’s seemed interested in anyone like that,” 

“I’d say so,” you nod with a slight shrug of the shoulders. “They definitely like each other at least,” you add. 

You sit there quietly for a few beats. Simply passing the joint back and forth. He’s caught you rubbing your arms for warmth this time and within a few seconds his sweater is off and he’s holding the maroon fabric towards you. 

You know he won’t take it back despite being left in only a shirt, wordlessly you take it and slip it on over your shoulders. Your senses are doused by the smell of his cologne mixed with the salty water of the nearby beach. You do your best to not purposely inhale more and try to focus on simply adjusting the collar.

“So,” he finally breaks the silence, “Do you have any love interests?” he mocks the tone you’d used earlier. 

Yes, you think, but instead you ask, “Do you?”

“You’re avoiding the question,” he tilts his head at you slightly with a raise of his brows. 

“I plead the fifth,” you decide.

“Seriously? I'm just asking, you’re not under arrest,” he chuckles. 

“So if I try to run you won’t stop me?” you ask. 

He smiles and lets out a breathy laugh as he shakes his head at your evasions. 

You’re unsure what to say. You do have a crush, however, said crush is sitting right next to you, completely unaware of your dilemma. You aren’t sure if you are ready to tell him. Tell him that you’ve been crushing on him ever since that pool party during your second summer in Cousins, that your best friend technically had dibs. For the longest time you’d decided to bury that infatuation for Belly’s sake. She’d grown up with the boy, confided in you when she was swooning for him with no clear sign of requited love. You did your best to be there for her. 

Now, however, she’s infatuated with a new boy. Cameron. She has been for a while now and it doesn’t seem like there’s any sign of it going away soon. Belly had even gone along with Taylor’s comments about you and Conrad, a good sign, yet you still didn’t trust it. 

“Fine,” you concede. “I’ll only tell you, if you tell me who you have your sights set on,” you attempt.

“Deal,” you held up your pinky finger and he intertwined his own with yours. “There’s this boy…,” you begin as your hands fall away, and you can swear you see Conrad’s shoulder fall slightly. You decide to focus on the water instead. “He’s hmm…,” you try to choose your words carefully. “He’s… thoughtful, puts himself before other people, kind of broody sometimes, funny… oh and he’s taller than me,” your final comment earns a chuckle from the boy. 

“Does every crush of yours need to be taller than you?” he questions, “Both Alex and Bailey were,” he adds to prove his point. 

You give him a push on the shoulder, “Coincidences,” you state. 

“Anyways, your turn,” you turn to look at him. 

He runs a hand against the back of his neck. “Okay, so they’re really sweet, smart, doesn’t take any of my shit…, oh and they are shorter than me,” he mimics the excitement you’d used earlier when giving that last detail. 

“You didn’t tell me their name,” you point out. 

“Neither did you,” 

“Touché,” you sigh. Something stirs in your gut, a mix of butterflies and nausea because you’d just confessed your feelings about Conrad to himself and he seems to be crushing on someone else. “Have they shown any signs of liking you back?” you ask as casually as you can, ready to offer advice if that’s what he’s been searching for. 

“I’m not sure, they think I’m a dork apparently… so it’s hard to tell,” he chuckles lightly but it’s leaning more towards nervous laughter than full on amusement. 

“Sounds like-,” your laugh is cut short by your thoughts, you wanted to say that she sounds like someone you’d get along well with but then it dawns on you. “Oh,” you slowly turn your head towards him. He’s looking at you with that smug smile on his face, unlike you, he is way better at hiding his nerves. Your cheeks are already heating up and you can feel that nausea settle in. 

“Took you long enough…,” you want to kiss smack that smug look right off his face. 

“Blame the weed…?” you smile nervously.

Those few inches left between you are crossed as he pulls you closer to him by your waist. You turn to face him properly, propping yourself with an arm. The smell of weed lingers in the air, but the joint has been put out for a while now. 

“I was talking about you, in case that wasn’t obvious…,” you almost stutter over your words. 

“You were?” he asks but you can hear the sarcasm as plain as day. 

You nudge his shoulder with your palm, “Shut up,” 

“Why don’t you make me,” he quips back. Then the distance between your lips is covered as you bring your mouth to his, resting a hand on his shoulder to support yourself. Luckily, at this point the patio is shrouded in darkness, and one would really have to squint to see your silhouettes.  “This okay?” you ask, and he nods before kissing you again. 

[sophrosynesworld]

Betrayal

You walk into your home to find your Pro-Hero boyfriend rummaging through your office.

"Kitkat?," I whisper, my voice trembling with a mix of confusion and anger. "What are you doing in here?"

Katsuki froze, a file halfway out of the drawer. Slowly, he turns to face me, guilt flashing across his face for the briefest moment. "I can explain," he starts, but I cut him off.

"Those are my client files." My voice is laced with malice, betrayal burning in my chest. "Are you looking for something?"

"It’s not like that," Katsuki snaps at me, his temper flaring. "You don’t understand."

"You better make me understand." My shakes, tears of anger and hurt welling up in my eyes. "Explain to me why the man I love is sneaking around my house like a thief."

Bakugo's jaw clenches, and for a moment, I think he might explode. But then his shoulders slump, and he looks away, unable to meet my gaze. "I’m doing my job," he mutters. "Your father… he’s not who you think he is."

I stare at him, disbelief washing over me. "My father is a good man," I scold him. "You don’t know him like I do."

"I know enough," Bakugo's lashes out at me. "I know he’s been involved in something serious." Katsuki places the file on my desk. "I was assigned to gather evidence."

The confession hits me like a punch to the gut. "Assigned?"

Katsuki took a step forward, while I took one backwards. His pleading eyes boring into mine.

"It wasn’t all a lie. I do care about you, more than I ever expected. But I had a job to do. I can't just ignore what your father is involved in."

I shook my head, backing away from him. "I can’t believe this. You used me." My hands ran through my hair, pulling at the roots. "I'm a lawyer, Bakugo! You can't just go through my client files."

"It's not like that!" he shouts, frustration boiling over. "I didn’t want to hurt you."

My heart crumbles at his words forcing my mind to race with panic. I turn and bolt towards the door, my hand reaching out for the open door, but Katsuki was faster. He lungs, grabbing my wrist and yanking me back.

"Don’t," he growls, his grip tightening. Soft lips brush against my ear as he attempts to calm me down. One arm sneaking across my waist, pulling me into his chest. The other petting my hair with shushes and pleads to forgive him.

"Let me go!" I scream, trying to wrench out of his grasp. I twist my body, bringing my hand up to strike his face, but Katsuki blocked it effortlessly.

We grapple, but the fact that he isn't using his full amount of power pisses me off even more. I kick at his shin, but Katsuki anticipated it again, deflecting my leg with his own. Bakugo was stronger and more experienced, but I had learned enough to hold my own, at least for a little while.

"You’re not calling anyone," he warns me through gritted teeth, Bakugo's foot kicks the back of my knee forcing my leg to give out underneath me. My asshole boyfriend uses that momentum to climb onto of me in an attempt to hold me down.

"Get off me!" I spit, bringing my knee up and kicking his stomach with full force. Bakugo grunts, loosening his grip just enough for me to break free. I crawl backwards away from him, grabbing a heavy book from the desk and hurling it at him. He ducks, the book smacking and breaking a vase of lilies Katsuki had bought me days before.

"Why?" I pant, desperation in my voice. "Why did you do this?"

His eyes soften, just for a moment. "Your father is a murderer."

The tears I’d been holding back finally spilled over. "Excuse me?"

He shook his head, his expression pained. "I wanted to protect you. If you knew, you could have been in danger."

"I’m already in danger!" my horse voice screams. "You're the only person hurting me!"

Before he could respond, I scramble for the door again. This time, I was quicker. I speed down the hallway and turn the corner, my socks allowing me to drift slightly. My fingers close around my phone sitting on the kitchen table, dialing the emergency number before Katsuki grabs me again, wrestling the phone from my hand and throwing it against the wall. Pieces shattering all over the floor on impact.

"Please, just listen to me," his pleading voice breaks. "I never wanted to hurt you. I love you. Oh God, I promise that I love you." His hands tremble while holding both sides of my face, forcing me to look at him.

"I can’t do this," I whisper, tears streaming down my face. My line of vision is taken over as I smack Bakugo's chest. "My father is the only family I have left. He wouldn't do this. He is a good man, Katsuki."

Bakugo steps back, releasing me. "I understand," he whispers. "But you're wrong."

I nod, wiping my tears. "Then go." I command. "Do your job. But I'm going to do mine as well."

Katsuki didn't respond, but instead, places a soft kiss on my forehead before turning and leaving, the door closing softly behind him.

I collapse into a chair, broken sobs leaving my body as I process what just happened.