#and maybe that's why I felt bad at the time

[seeliemansi]

Mr. Crawling hated Bath Time and Showers

Warnings: 18+, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, hint of SMUT, ghost revenge. It's not that bad.

my first post was flagged. dunno if it was reported but seriously?

🧼

No thoughts but forcing Mr. Crawling to take a shower. He has been crawling around since you met him and you have noticed his dirty and tattered clothes. There wasn't a problem when you two were still in that old abandoned building. But in your apartment? Being unclean is a no go. Just like a dog who hates baths, Mr. Crawling hated the idea to the point that he refused to go out of your closet. He had been repeating the same words as you try to pry the doors open.

"You not love me?" "Why bath?" "Not love me that's why bath?" "I like you but you not like me."

You admit it was kind of adorable. It was the same when he panicked when asked if he wanted his hair to be cut short.

You are getting out of nowhere and so with a promise, you told him that he can ask you of anything if he takes a shower. Just like offering a dog a treat during training. It took a lot of reassurance, but in the end, he allowed himself to bathe. If it was that easy.

And just like a vengeful dog that shakes its fur, to spray the excess water on its owner - Mr Crawling did the same.

He flinches, and he jerks, splashing water all over your already small bathroom. And ultimately drenched you, when he strongly pulled you down with him after he freaked out when the hot water turned cold because he was taking too long. You have no choice but to take a shower as well or you'll get a cold.

You can't help the tick of annoyance when he sighs in content as you help dry his hair. His head is on your lap, and he seems refreshed and peaceful. If he wasn't so cute, you will probably get back at him. But he looks so clean, comfortable, and glowing with happiness.

Maybe next time.

Showers always make you feel drowsy. You blink slowly and feel relaxed as he looks up with a wide grin. You can't help but give him a peck on the lips and kiss on his forehead. Such a good boy.

You chuckle when you hear his infamous giggle. You were about to continue drying his hair when he quickly moved, grabbed your shoulders and forcefully pushed you down the couch.

"Done! Me treat!" He declared.

"What?"

He didn't even give you enough time to think when he suddenly held both of your legs and pulled you closer to him. You remind yourself to apologize to the neighbors if they complain about the noise.

He didn't even give you enough time to raise yourself using your elbow, when he raised both your legs up, put it on his shoulder, and giggled as he was face to face with your clothed core. You can feel his hot breath and you gasped when he sniffed you down there. His giggles reverberate as he teases you with an experimental lick.

"Shower here too. Wet."

Is all you remember him say as you felt a full blown shiver of want from your head to your toes. It will be a long night for sure.

He may be cute but Mr. Crawling can be extremely vengeful because you had a hard time walking the next day. He made sure that it wasn't only him who would crawl around. And weirdly enough, after that, he was the one who reminded you that he needed a shower.

[beautifullilacsky]

"Will you overthinking this?" He asked as we were walking hand in hand in the park.

Me, fully aware I have already started overthinking the moment he mentioned that her friend broke off her relationship: "....... juuup"

"What are you overthinking about? Lets discuss it together, let me help"... I explained how, maybe, now that she is single, she might try to get over a guy by getting under another one. Or maybe, since you guys tall about problems and are pretty close, she turns to flirting now that she is single. "Okay and? Why would I get into that while I have my girlfriend at home? I would say no thank you. Also, I don't think she is the person to do that. I have met her before she was in a relationship, and she also wasn't like this then". Okay, well, .. maybe she will have heard bad things about me and will not like me or she will think I am not good enough for you, or too much, and tell you to break up with me. I mean, I'm in a relationship with you, not with her, but ja, well... He put his arms around me and stopped us from walking on, hugging me from behind. "Sometimes I forget how insecure you can be. Do you really think I'll just break up with you because someone tells me to? And besides, I think you should meet her. She is really kind and everytime I mentioned something, she was always more on the reassuring side." Well, I also thought your other friend was kind.. "..... true. ..... I don't have an argument against that."

"So... if she were to still be in a relationship, would it be okay? .. meh, I feel like that's a bad excuse. "Yeah she is in a relationship anyway" , as if that changes anything. Doesn't that sound like a bad thing to you?" Hmm. Well. Honestly, I felt better when she was in a relationship, assuming it wasn't an u know who typa relationship. It's always a 2 people's decision. And that way, I am at least sure that one side is on the no side (as I said it out loud, I realized how fuckedup it sounded.) "Shouldn't you trust me to already be on the no side?" .... I should, yes. I just don't know what to make of the fact that you told me that you can't promise me that it won't happen again. "That was a year ago" .... "back then I wasn't super sure, and before that I was def not sure. Also, I did not want to force you to trust me (def different exact words from his, buthey, u get the point.). It's been a year." Would you get back to it and say something different now then? "Yes. I am sure that it will never happen again".

And there it was. I know he is a firm believer in actions over words, but sometimes I need words to be sure. He told me that he tells me the truth, and I know he does. Thus, if he tells me, I believe him. So. Maybe this is what I needed to truly get to trusting him again. His word. It's not a signed contract, I know. I can't sue him if his words turn out to be false. Though, I needed this. I needed his faith in himself to make sure it won't happen again. Fuck damn hey. I needed him to believe in himself. If he doesn't believe he will stop it the next time, who am I to believe so? Well well well. Before he left, if our roommate wasn't sitting right next to me, I would've said after he asked me if I'm still okay (for like, the 3th time): "if you say it won't happen again, I trust you." Fuck. And I'd mean it. I feel like I have entered a new reality. One in which it is safe for me to have faith in him. In which, sure, maybe a girl will flirt with him, but I can laugh about it. I can be proud to be with that hotstuff that she can't help but talk to. I can make jokes about it and raise my eyebrows up and down. I can do it all, and enjoy the situation, knowing. Truly knowing. That it doesn't matter at all if the other party is on the "yes-boat". He isn't, and he won't get onto it either. Even if a chance presents itself, he won't even see it as one. He has the set in stone plan to come back home to me. Even if she would get him drunk and touch him all over, ... he will say no. Even if it scares me more with booze, he is still himself. He doesn't get into a crazy trans and turns into a different person with different values. He is still the same person who held my hand as we walked in the autumn colored park, and said that it would never happen again.

It feels like something in me has been freed. As if trust was a fluffy creature within me, which was tied down. His words freed it. It still can't believe that the tiny trust guy is free. That it's safe to stand up now and run and smile and truly trust. It's astonished, grasping for those words that set it free. Wanting to hold them and craving for them to invade its veins with its lightning energy and brightness. May it no longer feel the need to stay on the ground; the ties have been undone. Fuck.

[felassan]

David Gaider on Dorian, under a cut for length:

"Now this is a fun one. It's no big secret I have a lot of feelings about Dorian, not least of which because he was my first (and only) gay male companion. There's a lot more to him than that, of course (as there should be), and it was quite a trip. So let's go! Now, DAI is a story all its own, but I'm sticking to the characters. In this case, back at the beginning, the writers were going to try something new: we were going to let the artists take a more active role in the companion creation process. Why? Because not doing so had caused a lot of problems. See, here's the thing: writers and artists speak two different languages. When talking about characters, we talk about their story. Who they are. What they want. We'd write up these briefs, huge and full of information... but it was never the information the artists needed. They wanted visual cues. I don't mean describing their appearance. Sure, we'd usually provide that, especially if there was a story case to be made, but often the artists vetoed us on appearance stuff anyhow so meh. No, I mean they looked for visual language while we tended to only talk about who the characters *were*. What would happen is they'd hone in on something visual in our write-up not intended to be a focus. The first write-up for Anders in DA2, for instance, mentioned he was "haggard" after his journey... and the first concept we got was this pale, shriveled man. "What... is this?" "YOU SAID HAGGARD!" 😅"

"That was the other trick: sometimes when we DID try to be more descriptive, we had to be extra cautious because the words could be interpreted very differently. You encounter this recording VO, too. A VO note says "hysterical" and you *meant* "really upset" but the actor read "scream like a banshee" Thus this caused problems, like I said. The artists would struggle, sometimes conjuring details just to give the character *something* but which would change the character... and, to us, the character was created. Done. We were already invested, probably already writing them. Something had to give. So this time we wrote a bunch of character briefs - but short. One paragraph. We stuck to vibes and the *emotions* we wanted the concepts to evoke. And we didn't name them. They got titles like "Slick Con Man" or "Ice Queen", so we wouldn't get too attached. Then we handed these off to the artists. And it worked nicely. The ones that just weren't inspiring we'd discard, no problem. The others had juice... and the artists felt free to play and offer lots of variations because we weren't set on anything yet. A lot of times, what they produced ended up inspiring US. It was a neat back-and-forth."

"This is what led to Dorian, in fact. He came from a short write-up entitled "Rock Star Mage" and it really boiled down to "I'm cool and I know I'm cool, so take that you cretins". And just like that, the first sketches (by Casper Konefal, I think? I bet I'm wrong) were all amazing. Instant fire. Me: "He looks kind of like... Freddie Mercury?" Him: "Is that bad?" Me: "NO ARE YOU KIDDING THIS IS AMAZING" Plus there was a monkey. Sadly, we had to lose the monkey. There were iterations to come, but this was really where Dorian was born: Tevinter mage, noble, savant, and too cool for school."

"When did he become gay? Not right away. Like I said elsewhere, we didn't talk romance and sexuality until after the concepts were more in place. But as we were brainstorming about why this hot shot mage left Tevinter, the idea DID come up that maybe it was because he was gay. Not directly, however. Homophobia isn't really a thing in Thedas, after all, so at first blush I didn't think that could work. "Rich kid gets kicked out of the house for being gay" wasn't a trope I wanted to explore. But, then again, magister families in Tevinter are *obsessed* with the appearance of perfection, so...? Any deviation from the "norm" is considered scandal-worthy. It said weakness. It said you couldn't control your house. Now... THAT had real promise. The writing pit discussed it a lot. So I think it's fair to say that the gay fairy was already circling Dorian even before we got to the romance talk. I think it's also fair to say that the rest of the team realized I low-key wanted to write him, because when everyone started calling dibs, who was left standing for me? (I pick last, remember.) I gleefully snatched him up and got to work... ...about six months later. I was very busy at the time. 😅 That late start meant I had to design and write VERY quickly. And I did. Somehow, though, this one... it came easily. "Catty gay man" isn't digging very deep, no surprise to anyone who knows me, and it had an extra layer of being so fun because Dorian was confident. He sparred verbally. I loved it."

"There was more to it, however. The conflict between Dorian and his father... ugh, how do I say this? Let's be clear: Dorian's story is not MY story, but it's also not far off. I wrote the entire confrontation scene in one go. After I was done, I probably cried harder than I ever have in my life. 🫠 I was unsure whether it was any good, however. I just didn't feel objective. I passed it over to Cori May - my friend but also Dorian's editor - and asked her to please tell me and be honest. She read it. She walked into my office after, tears streaming down her face, and just nodded. "It's good." Here's the thing. Not everyone is going to agree with this, but: I don't think a writer NEEDS to be a minority in order to write a minority. Sometimes those characters should simply exist, and we want them to. But if that character's story is ABOUT their experience as a minority? That's different. Dorian's story didn't need to revolve around his sexuality - and, honestly, it only did so as a tangent to his family issue, but they're so bound together it's probably irrelevant to split them - but my writing him meant it could be. It allowed me to SAY something. That felt good. It felt right. Ramon Tikaram came on board after a lengthy casting process (so many British Indian accents, oh god). I sat in on a few recording sessions... the confrontation scene, though? Ramon: *says line* Me: (curled up on a nearby sofa in fetal position) *shaky thumbs up* Caroline: "Yep. Great work, Ramon!""

"Dorian's sexuality isn't all he's about, but that's certainly how some viewed it. When the character was announced in 2014, his being gay was mentioned as the last of a number of points, and the instant response from some gamers was to act as if we'd called a press conference just to say THAT. 🙄 It was annoying. Still is. Overall, however, the reaction to Dorian was very positive. The number of straight men who said they romanced him still pleases me. The number of fans who privately contacted me who'd been through conversion therapy, some who said Dorian helped them survive? Well. Gosh. 😭 I did write him for Trespasser - though I hear that a late scope cut meant every conversation had been chopped by 1/3rd or more, and that meant a lot of nuance lost. Which is sad, if true, because it sounds like the result of that left some Dorian romancers a bit cold. Such is how game dev rolls. 😔 If you need more proof of how it was hard for me to let go of him, a short story I wrote after Trespasser came out where Dorian has a bit of closure with his dead father: medium.com/@davidgaider... So yeah. He'll always be my boi. And I'll always be thankful Bio gave me this opportunity. ❤️"

[source thread]

User: "I'm not going to lie, it's hard to take my mind off Dorian almost having a monkey." David Gaider: "If by “almost” you mean there was a picture of a monkey that the concept artist put there as a whim, and which would almost certainly have taken more cinematics and modeling time to put in than we could ever afford… then yes. 😉" [source]

[venuslarkspur]

Teen Hero Shenanigans

Part 1

Jon My Love, There’s A New Batgirl.

Summary: Your Damian’s Twin Sister, after arriving 3 years after your brother so you never excepted to take the Robin mantle, until your brother runs away and you volunteer to take his place. Damian eventually returns and you are discharged from the role, after bottling up your anger you decide to go solo by running away and stealing the Batgirl. But your not alone, your sort of boyfriend joins you. The main problem is the boyfriend in question is your brother’s best friend, Jon Kent.

Pairing: Just Jon Kent x Batsis!Reader on this one. Mentions of platonic Jason and reader.

Notes: it’s not proofread so I’m so sorry if there’s any mistakes 😭 - Please read the prologue if you haven’t already <3

Warnings: Undertones of Misogyny, mentions of Talia being overprotective, Teen Runaways.

Words: 1.4k

————————

You weren’t sure if you had heard your father right, all you knew right now is that you had to get as far away as possible. You ignored your father calling out to you and ran out that office, you felt your dinner coming up. You clenched your stomach and your mind relapsed. It brought back bad memories from your time with your grandfather, being pinned against Damian and being chosen as the inferior twin. That’s why you weren’t the heir, that’s why you weren’t Robin first. And that’s why your currently sprinting you way through the house, Cass had called out to you and you felt dreadful for ignoring her but you you couldn’t take this right now. You were displaced, again.

One thing led to another and you were stood in the bat cave, staring at all the costumes behind the glass. There were so many, but only one caught your eye. Barbara’s purple and yellow Batgirl costume. Maybe it was the Lazarus Pit trauma talking but suddenly your picking up the nearest object and smashing the glass, suddenly your putting the costume on and grabbing your phone from your room. Suddenly you’re jumping out your window and hopping the fence; you wished you’d had at least told Jason or even Cass what your game was, but it’s not like there would be much explain; your instinct just acted for you. And it felt good to hop over buildings in costume and punching a few noses on the way, as of right now you were snapping off your boyfriend’s window lock, and your feet hit the ground with a creak. Jon wasn’t there but you looked at the time on your phone which read 18:05, he must of still been having dinner. So you waited for 5 minutes and in true Wayne family fashion sat there on his bed, reading one of his textbooks; until you heard footsteps outside the door but continued on reading.

The door opened and you sat up straight and met eyes with the person you’d hoped to see, “Y/n? Is that you?” Jon eyes widened, many questions floating around his head. You slipped the mask off and got up and met him, “We need to whisper, and shut the door please.” You tried to say as politely as possible, he got the message and gently shut the door. “I heard…so it’s true that Damian’s back.” He inferred as you led him to sit down with you on the bed, you sat down and took his hands in yours. “I was happy but judging by this costume, did Batman fire you?” You nodded at him and looked down in shame, but he quickly brought your chin back up. “He told me I was discharged, but I’m sure that’s just a gentler term for fired.” You sighed, and as mad as you felt you saw this as an opportunity to join his lips to yours for what might be the last time. You slowly moved in and connected your lips to his, he sensed the urgency and moved in as well but didn’t quite understand the rush.

You stayed that way for a while, but slowly moved away as he popped another question. “What’s actually wrong?” He asked and you felt bad because right now he looked like a sad puppy, but you couldn’t drag him down with you. Not to mention you had to be more careful with Damian’s return. “I’m sorry but I think I’m gonna tough it out on my own for a while.” You took your hands away from his and instantly missed the warmth. He looked at you as if you’d just told him his whole family died. “You’ve actually lost it if you think I’m letting you go off on your own.” He took his hands back into yours. “If think you need to do this- I’m not gonna act like I’m not happy about it but if I can’t stop you I’m gonna join you.” You both stay that way for a while, and reality sinks in at last. “I can’t let you, your parents won’t forgive me not to mention Damian will feel so betrayed I’m just not sure..” you whisper as if not wanting anything to change but it’s already too late, everything’s changed.

“Sorry Batgirl you can’t stop me, I couldn’t forgive myself if something happened to you, not to mention the wrath of your brothers, jeez..” He blushes and on a more serious note you accept his proposal. “Okay we can set up base at the outskirts I think, I know a place.” You stand up and reapply your mask, he follows and asks “Are you nervous?” You grin and if you could look at yourself right now you’d probably remind yourself of your twin brother. “Nope, nobody’s taking us down and if they try they won’t try and come back for another round.” You give him one last peck before sliding past the window sill again. “Gather what you need, speak to who you need, I’ll be on the rooftop when you’re ready.” You smile at each other before slipping onto the roof without a sound.

You made a point to ignore the countless notifications on your phone, only messaging Damian with an unhelpful “Im okay.”

————————

You knew just where you both wouldn’t be found, it probably would of been ideal to just ask to make your team but not only would that expose your relationship, it would also make family reunions really awkward. You weren’t really thinking at all, you knew a warehouse you could operate from for the time being. It was where you and Jason trained for a bit, you had fond memories of being taken for ice cream afterwards and a ride on the back of his bike. It was nice to have someone look out for you, so much effort went into training Damian when you were young children, your grandfather tried to believe in you but knew ultimately Damian would be the heir. Which created so many insecurities, well right now you weren’t much better running off with his friend but as you saw it you needed to pave your way as well.

Talia hadn’t even wanted you to leave, you had to run away to escape your overly pampered life; and it took Bruce insisting you stay to get her to return home; but she still promised you’d eventually return to her. As much as you had wanted to lecture her on her overly protective behaviour you also wanted her approval. Sure she would be happy you were rebelling against your father, but would she approve of you doing it this way? Would she approve of Jon? Who was currently flying you both to the warehouse. You wanted to be validated and that you hated the most.

You didn’t feel like being alone tonight either, you knew there was an abandoned flat above the warehouse but you and Jason had never gone up there. But you didn’t mind if it was a 1 bed situation, if anything it would help to have someone to hold. Worse case scenario you’re both found sharing a bed and your brothers lost their shit. As long as you both are fully clothed at the time nothing too bad should happen.

And it felt like the most natural thing ever, patrolling together, the thugs being confused wondering when you two became an item. Turning them into the nearby station, avoiding cctv and you going to your new makeshift home as if it was the most normal thing ever. You had set up your own mini crime alert on Jon’s laptop and found ways to charge your devices. You even managed to spruce up the warehouse and upstairs apartment a bit, thank goodness Jon was raised normally and knew how to cook because you couldn’t cook to save your life.

But naturally your respective families began to put the pieces together, and soon enough Oracle was watching.

Taglist: @waterwyne @venusmorning

(If you want to be added please let me know <3)

[sinsirellaxx]

Slytherin Boys – They Hurt Your Feelings

Warning: Toxic!boys, not proofread, cheating, etc.

Enjoy!

Mattheo …

… watches you with disinterest as your eyes grow wet with unshed tears. He’d just told you that he simply forgot about your birthday and had spent the whole day with some random female students.

… shrugs his shoulders when you ask him whether he is being serious. “It’s not that big of a deal – I simply forgot.”

… groans when you start pointing out all the times he stood you up and neglected you for the sake of being with other people. “Please – not this again.”

… plays the “If I’m really such a bad boyfriend then leave”-card.

… will smirk if you decide not to leave.

… will quickly get up from his bed if you actually turn around and slam the door behind you as you rush out of his stinky teenage dorm.

Theodore …

… sits on the edge of his bed, completely unfazed when you confront him about the girl you saw him kissing. “You’re overreacting. It didn’t mean anything.”

… doesn’t try to explain himself, running a hand through his hair as if the conversation is exhausting him. “Merlin, can’t you just drop it already?”

… scoffs when your voice cracks, and tears spill down your cheeks. He is obviously annoyed by your display of emotions, “Honestly, this is pathetic. Do you have to cry about everything?”

… rolls his eyes when you demand answers. “You weren’t exactly keeping me entertained. What did you think was going to happen?”

… doesn’t even try to stop you as you storm out of his dorm, muttering under his breath about how dramatic you are.

Lorenzo …

… lets out a mocking laugh when you trip over your words in front of his friends, your cheeks burning with embarrassment. “Did you seriously just say that?” he sneers.

… dismisses your protests when you pull him aside after the incident. “Oh, come on, it was just a joke. Don’t be so sensitive.”

… refuses to acknowledge the hurt in your eyes as you try to explain how humiliated you felt. “If you can’t take a little teasing, that’s on you.”

… crosses his arms when you demand an apology, shaking his head. “No one else would’ve made such a big deal about this. Maybe grow a thicker skin.”

… rolls his eyes when you walk away, but for a fleeting second, guilt flickers in his eyes before he brushes it off.

Draco …

… sneers at you in front of a crowd after you tried to share your opinion during a heated debate. “Why don’t you leave the thinking to people who actually know what they’re talking about?”

… watches your face fall as you try to defend yourself, a cruel smirk playing on his face. “You’re embarrassing yourself, you half-blood.”

… doesn’t care about the tears in your eyes, cutting you off with a wave of his hand. “Oh, don’t start crying now. You’re acting like a child.”

… shrugs his shoulders when you call him an ass before storming off.

… feels the slightest pang of regret later, but he buries it deep down, convincing himself you were overreacting.

Blaise …

… snaps during an argument, his voice icy and sharp. “You’re so goddamn needy all the time. Do you ever stop to think about anyone but yourself?”

… watches as your eyes widen, but instead of softening, he doubles down. “Oh, now you’re crying? Of course, you are. That’s your solution for everything, isn’t it?”

… crosses his arms and leans back, clearly unimpressed by your attempt to defend yourself. “You always have to play the victim, don’t you?”

… rolls his eyes when you try to leave the room, grabbing your wrist. “Don’t walk away from me. We’re not done here.”

… later sits alone, the weight of his words sinking in, but his pride won’t let him admit he went too far.

Tom …

… grips your wrist too tightly during an argument, his voice low and venomous. “You will not walk away from me while I’m talking.” You had been fighting due to his treatment towards your muggle-born friends.

… shoves you backward when you try to push past him, his eyes cold and unfeeling. “Don’t test me, darling. You won’t like the consequences.”

… watches you stumble, your eyes wide with shock and fear in annoyance – you knew what you were getting into when you agreed to be his girlfriend. You knew who he was.

… sneers when you try to regain your composure, his tone dripping with condescension. “Wipe that pathetic look off your face. It doesn’t suit you.”

… takes a step closer, his shadow looming over you as his voice drops to a dangerous whisper. “Do you think they’d risk anything for you? Those mudbloods you’re so desperate to protect?”

… brushes past you with deliberate force when you don’t respond, his shoulders rigid, muttering, “You’re lucky I don’t make an example of them for your insolence.”

[dollsltt]

MAMA, A BIRD BEHIND YOU.

⠀⠀ ᡣ𐭩 ⠀ ⠀⠀angel!reader x dean winchester

sum. just angel!reader having a staring problem, and perturbing dean’s sleep with it.

includes. fluff, pet names (duck, duckling, sweetheart), it’s my first drabble have mercy, english is not my first language.

Dean jolted awake, his heart felt like it wanted to jump out of his chest. He wasn't sure what had disturbed him so much —a nightmare, maybe, or that weird squeaking sound the bunker floor made from time to time— but something felt... off. He blinked a few times, trying to get rid of the drowsiness and blurriness in his eyes. Then he saw you.

You. Fuckin' duck. He thought.

You were standing perfectly still in the corner of the room, your hands clasped together in front of you, staring deeply at Dean.

"What the fuck-" Dean wanted to yell at you, but he'd be lying if he said he wasn't used to it. It was maybe the fifth time this week you'd taken it upon yourself to wake him or Sam with your eerie, silent presence. "Duckling, what are you doing here?" he asked as he sat up in bed.

You stared at him for another few seconds, blinking slowly. "You were asleep."

"Yes, I know. It's what people do at night." He rubbed his face, trying to make sense of the situation, and maybe trying to talk some sense into you. "Why are you always just... standing there? Watching me like a damn freak?"

You tilted your head slightly, as though considering your words. "You looked peaceful."

Dean froze, caught between a sense of confusion and sheer disbelief. "You woke me up because I looked peaceful?"

"No," you corrected, your voice as calm as ever. "You woke up on your own. I was merely observing."

"Observing what, exactly?"

For brief moments, you hesitated. Your expression was hard to read, since you just kept staring at him, but that question seemed to have made you think.

"Humans are... fragile. They take on too much. They carry the weight of their sins even unconsciously. I was ensuring that you remained unharmed."

Dean stayed just like you for a few seconds; still and staring, blinking slowly as if the gears in his brain were being dusted off. He opened and closed his mouth like a fish, trying to find the words.

"So you were angelically babysitting me?" he said, confused. How was he supposed to take that? Sure, it was... Cute, in a way. His chest tightened fondly at the thought of how much you cared for him, even if you showed it in such a weird way.

But still, it was fucking terrifying to be jumpscared by two shiny eyes staring at his soul in the middle of the night.

"Yes." you said, matter-of-factly, a tiny smile gracing your face, which only made Dean feel his chest tighten even more.

"Listen, sweetheart– I don't mind you watching me sleep, okay? Even if you look like a freak, I don't mind, but you should try to kick that habit. It's not very... uh, how do I say it? Human." Dean tried to explain it as simply as possible, but it was hard when you were looking at him with those big eyes, all wide and paying as much attention as if he were an exotic animal. "You scared five lifetimes out of me standing in that corner like an extra in horror movie. I'm just saying, others might react worse than me."

You blinked and looked down at your hands. "I didn't intend to frighten you. I'm simply drawn to your existence." You said softly. "If you would rather, I may go."

Dean shouldn't feel bad, but he did. It was like scolding a puppy for chewing on a shoe. He knew you were getting used to the Earth and how humans coexisted with each other, it wasn't entirely your fault you were a social misfit.

"Stay if you want," Dean flopped back onto his pillow with a groan, covering his face with his upper arm. "But I'd recommend you try doing other things while Sam and I asleep, believe me, anything is better than watching two idiots snore." He yawned.

Dean peeked out from behind his arm to watch you move toward the door, though you threw one last glance over your shoulder.

You hesitate, moving your lips as if you want to say something else. Finally, you nod. "Very well. Sleep well, Dean." Your gaze lingered for a moment, soft and curious, before vanishing down the hallway.

As soon as you left, Dean exhaled noisily. "Angels," he muttered, covering his head with the blanket. "Fucking weirdos."

a/n: hii hiii hello this is my first drabble, hope y’all like it :) i’m doing sam’s version soon cuz my boy deserves to be disturbed by the angel too

[capquinn]

cant stop thinking putting quinn in the dog house for something he did and him being super clingy and yeah😔😔(im down bad for this man)

STOP he’d be a freaking nightmare to deal with in the dog house and you’d get no satisfaction out of it 😭😭😭

So the thing about Quinn is that he doesn’t mess up often — not in the big ways, at least. So when he does, it hits him like a freight train. He’s not the kind of guy to brush it off or pretend it didn’t happen; he feels it. Deeply. Which is probably why, after whatever dumb thing he’d done, he’d been moping around the house like a kicked puppy for days.

And it wasn’t like you’d slammed a door or screamed at him when it happened. You’d just went quiet. Pulled away. You didn’t even mean to — it was just instinct. But he noticed, of course he did, because Quinn notices everything when it comes to you. And the worst part? You didn’t yell. You didn’t even seem angry. You just looked… hurt.

And that gutted him.

He’d tried giving you space at first, thinking maybe that’s what you wanted. But Quinn’s not a man built for distance. Not from you, atleast. So by day two, he was trailing after you like a lost child, his big, stupid, guilty eyes following you around the house, looking for any sign of forgiveness.

“Need any help with dinner?”

“No, I’m fine.”

“I can chop the onions? Or, uh, wash the dishes after?”

“I’ve got it, Quinn.”

It was killing him. Every clipped sentence, every soft sigh chipped away at him bit by bit. And yeah, maybe you weren’t outright ignoring him, but your responses were just polite enough to make him feel the weight of the distance between you. The worst kind of punishment, because it wasn’t really punishment at all — it was just the consequence of hurting someone you love.

By day three, he was in full-on grovel mode. Apologies spilling out of him whenever you so much as glanced his way. Little touches — on your shoulder, your hand, your waist — tentative and quick, like he wasn’t sure if he was allowed anymore. And the kicker? He started leaving you notes. Notes. Like he was a middle schooler trying to get his crush back.

“I’m sorry.”

“You’re right. I was a jerk.”

“I’ll make it up to you. Promise.”

They’d pop up everywhere — on the fridge, on your pillow, even in your bag when you were heading out the door. And it wasn’t even annoying; it was just… Quinn. Pathetic in the most endearing way, his guilt so genuine it practically radiated off him.

When he finally couldn’t take it anymore, he cornered you in the kitchen, his hands shoved into his pockets, his shoulders hunched like he was bracing for impact.

“I hate this,” he muttered, his voice quiet but steady. “I hate that I hurt you. I hate that you can’t even look at me without…” He trailed off, his brow furrowing. “I’ll fix it. Whatever it takes. Just tell me how.”

And how could you stay mad at that? At the man who looked at you like you hung the stars, who was so bad at being in trouble because the thought of being out of your good graces was unbearable to him?

You didn’t say anything right away, just stepped forward and wrapped your arms around his middle, pressing your forehead against his chest. His arms came around you instantly, like he’d been waiting for it, and you felt the tension in his body melt away as he buried his face in your hair.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured again, his voice breaking slightly, and this time, you didn’t just hear the words — you felt them.

“I know,” you said softly, and the weight of it all seemed to lift in that moment.

Quinn would hold you there for as long as you let him, his grip firm but careful, like he was still afraid you might slip away. And when you finally pulled back, his eyes would search yours, full of hope and relief and that quiet, unshakable love that made forgiving him the easiest thing in the world.

[xx-reverie-xx]

Hihi!! I just read your Sevika HCs and I absolutely love them!! I wanted to know if you could (please) write HCs for Sevika and Vi after an argument with their partner? :) Whether it’s an argument the reader started or they started can be completely up to you! Or you could even do both scenarios if you prefer! 💕

Thank you and I hope you have a nice day/evening 💖

🖤Sevika and Vi after an Argument🖤

men dni men dni men dni men dni men dni men dni men dni

🤎Sevika🤎

I don’t think arguments would be common in a relationship with Sevika.

When she locks into a serious relationship, she means serious. She covers all the important bases for a healthy relationship; communication, loyalty, respect, trust, and so much more.

Covering these bases, especially communication, helps to avoid frequent arguments.

It won’t completely cut out the occasional argument though.

When you two do argue, it’s almost always about bigger things. For example, her working so much and not taking much time for herself, or maybe her drinking and smoking.

Post-argument time usually has as “how can we avoid this in the future” moment where you guys have a heart to heart about whatever started the argument.

If you start an argument:

Be prepared to apologize first. And only apologize if you’re really sorry.

You should always finish what you start, after all.

Your apology may be met with an affectionate an eye roll and a huff.

She never stays mad at you for long.

Once you apologize she usually makes space for you wherever she’s sitting and wraps her arm around just to let you know it’s really okay.

If you’re just apologizing because you feel like you need to, don’t. She can see right through you if you’re bullshitting her.

If you’re stubborn like her, sometimes apologizing can genuinely be difficult. She gets that. Which is why her patience with you is a blessing.

Again, when you’re ready to apologize , she’s affectionate and accepts it.

If she starts an argument:

This woman is stubborn. For her to apologize, it just doesn’t feel right.

She’s only ever been truly sorry a few times in her life. In the Undercity, living a life like hers, she never had time to be sorry.

Being sorry gets you hurt. It gets you killed.

But…

It’s obviously different when it’s you. You aren’t a big bad wolf waiting around the corner. You’re her partner, her ride-or-die.

In the heat of the moment, what she said felt right. It felt like something you needed to hear.

The thought of you feeling hurt by something she said just eats her alive.

She comes to you first.

It isn’t anything crazy, usually just a simple, gruff “I’m sorry.”

She’s awkward and stiff about it, but completely genuine.

Asks what she can do to make it up to you, if anything.

❤️Vi❤️

Violet runs hot. She isn’t a loose cannon but someday’s it can be hard trying to keep all of her emotions under wraps.

This has definitely lead to arguments over petty things like dishes in the sink or eating the last of her favorite snack.

It’s also lead to arguments about very serious things. Her pit fighting, drinking, and her occasional impulsivity.

Arguments always hit her hard, even the petty ones. No matter how old she gets, arguments always make her feel like a little kid, just waiting for the ball to drop. The ball being losing you.

That feeling of dread, like this argument could be the last, if that makes sense.

Physical touch is usually present in the make up process after an argument. It helps ground her.

The good news is, the two of you always make up very quickly.

If you start an argument:

If the argument is a petty spat about dishes or snacks, she still apologizes first, albeit rather begrudgingly.

This links back to her feeling like this argument could be the last. What if she never hears “You promised you’d take out the trash this week” ever again?

You, however, shut that down. “It’s my fault, I should be the one apologizing.” You tell her.

These arguments are extremely easy to come back from because you two are always on the same level. Two halves to make a whole, equals

There isn’t a point in staying hung up on petty nonsense for long.

If you start a big argument, you apologize first.

She distances herself and you have to go to her.

You’ll usually find her someplace where she shouldn’t be, like a bar. Or, you might find her someplace safe, like with Loris or another friend she feels comfortable around.

Not only should you apologize, but it would also be a good chance to thoroughly explain why you’re upset or might think something is a bad idea.

Once you do that, she’ll open her arms up to you and usually things can be resolved somewhat easily after that.

If she starts an argument:

Again, she apologizes first.

If she starts an argument, big or small, the dread of possibly losing you over this hits her like bricks.

For smaller arguments, she approaches you casually. If you let her, she’ll wrap her arms around you. An apology hug, if you will.

Says, “I’m sorry, baby,” in the softest voice she can muster.

These smaller arguments are always easier to come back from just because she’s so sweet. How can you ever stay upset when she’s such a sweetie?

Big arguments are something else though.

After she’s said whatever it is that she’s said, the weight of it all is suffocating.

If she said something really stupid and hurtful in the heat of the moment, she might need some space for a bit. Things like that take her back to that day.

But she’ll come to you when she’s ready.

May or may not have a little gift for you for extra measure. Usually it’s something simple like your favorite candy bar.

She tells you she’s sorry and explains why she got so worked up. Usually this leads to a steady and warm embrace and you let her know it’s okay.

hello!!! thank you for the request ♥️ please let me know if you enjoyed it or not. i had so much fun writing these. i kind of got carried away with vi’s headcanons 🙈. . i was purposefully vague about what started the argument so you can sort of imagine your own scenario for why the argument started!🎠

ask box is open for multiple fandoms and nearly every arcane character! check my pinned for rules, fandoms, and characters.

[m-neuvillette]

Haikyuu men reactions to you wearing their jersey

Notes: Time skip Kuroo, Bokuto, Daichi, Sugawara x fem reader, implied to be shorter than him

Author notes: I love these 4 guys so much (especially Kuroo <3) anyways enjoy!! Feel free to like, share, comment, and follow!

Kuroo

You and Kuroo just moved into your first apartment together, but Kuroo had a business trip come up so most of the unpacking was left to you. You didn’t mind because it gave you something to do besides sitting around waiting for Kuroo to come back home.

You finished the kitchen, bathroom and living room which just leaves the bedroom. Before you start unpacking the boxes for the bedroom, you check your phone to see if you got a message from Kuroo. You guys haven’t talked much it’s just been short and simple conversations because he’s been so busy. You see that you got a message saying he would be home tomorrow which made you really happy.

You put on your headphones and start a playlist to get you through unpacking. You decide to start with your stuff first since you know where you would like to put all your stuff. You hang up some of your clothes in your closet then put the rest of the clothes in the dresser.

Then go to setting up your vanity. Kuroo surprised you with it before he had to leave for his trip. The thought of how excited he was to show you and happy he was to see your reaction just makes you miss him more. You sit on the seat in front of the vanity and start putting your makeup, skincare, and some hygiene products away.

You then move to unpacking Kuroo’s stuff. You grab the box that says ‘clothes’. You set out his dress clothes and some other clothing to hang up. You then stumble upon a red jersey. You pull it out to look at it closer. You knew he played volleyball in high school but you didn’t know he kept his uniform.

You look at it and run one of your hands over the material. It’s very soft and smooth, which makes you decide to put it on. Once you throw it on it goes down to your knees, who knew he was that tall in high school? You walk over to the vanity to look at yourself in the mirror missing the call of your name from a certain someone.

Kuroo sent you the text right before he was about to get on his flight back home. He really wanted to surprise you because he felt bad you had to basically move and live in your guys new apartment all by yourself for a week. He pockets his phone and walks onto his flight to make his way back to you.

Once he lands he texts Kenma to come and pick him up. Kuroo quickly navigates the airport and his way to Kenma’s car because he is so close to getting home to you. Kuroo finds Kenma’s car and gives him a greeting. They make small talk until Kuroo asks him to make a couple stops before he gets back home.

Kuroo unlocks the front door with your favorite takeout and flowers ready to surprise you. But he walks into a dark and quiet apartment. He starts to wonder if you had plans you didn’t tell him about. So he calls out to you not getting a response. He leaves his suitcase by the front door and kicks off his shoes then makes his way into the kitchen. He places the takeout and flowers on the counter then goes to find you.

Kuroo walks further into the apartment to see a light coming from the bedroom. Maybe you fell asleep early? He walks quietly to your guys bedroom and he leans against the door to see you wearing his volleyball jersey from his last year in high school.

He watches you spin around and look at yourself in the mirror. You takeoff your headphones (that’s why you didn’t hear him, he chuckles to himself) and put your hair up to look the number on the back. You give yourself a smile and let your hair back down. You go to put your headphones back on but thats when Kuroo decides to speak up.

“Now what do we have here?”

You spin around to see Kuroo leaning against the door giving you a smirk. You whisper his name and he gives you a small head nod and then you run to throw yourself at him. “Kuroo, you’re back!!” You squeeze yourself tight against him.

Kuroo holds you tighter against his and takes you all in, “I’m back baby.” You release him a little bit to look at him and say, “I thought you were coming back tomorrow?”

Kuroo looks down at you and quickly replies, “Well that was the plan but we ended early so I changed my flight so I can surprise you. Speaking of which I brought food and flowers, they are in the kitchen though.”

You smile up at him, “You’re so sweet Kuroo, I’m so happy you’re back early. Cmon, let’s go eat.” You let go of him and go to grab his hand and pull him to the kitchen but you are pulled back into his arm. He doesn’t say anything but leads you over to the vanity mirror. He places himself behind you and wraps his arms around your waist and leans his chin on your shoulder.

Kuroo then speaks up, “First I want to talk about this.” He plays with bottom of the jersey.

You look at him through the mirror and apologize, “I’m sorry I should have asked before I put it on. I know how much you care about this jersey-“

Kuroo is quick to cut you off, “Ah ah ah. Nope none of that. You look absolutely beautiful in this jersey. This just makes me wish we knew each other in high school so you could wear my jersey to games and cheer me on.”

You blush easily at his comments, “Thank you, but I wish we did too. That would have been so much fun cheering you on. You may not be playing volleyball anymore but I’ll always be your biggest fan and cheer you on no matter what.”

Kuroo gives you a kiss on your cheek the tells you, “I wouldn’t want anyone else to be my biggest fan. But the same goes for you baby. I’m your biggest fan because you have me so captivated with you.”

You and Kuroo just stare at each other for a little bit before your stomach growls. You quickly turn away embarrassed by your stomach ruining the moment. Kuroo lets out a strong laugh and starts to walk you to the kitchen.

You quickly stop him, “Wait I have to take this off, I don’t want to ruin it while eating.”

Kuroo quickly denies, “No, you’re still going to wear it. I’m not done looking at you with it on.”

He drags you to the kitchen to get food in your system but also gives you your flowers. You two have a peaceful rest of your night while catching up. But little did you know whenever you weren’t paying attention he was taking photos of you. He cannot let himself for get this.

Bokuto

You wake up to the warmth you slept with all night start to get out of bed. You groan and try to reach out to Bokuto. He chuckles then tells you, “Go back to sleep sweetheart, I’m have to get ready for my game.” He tucks you back in and without much fight to fall back asleep quickly.

You wake up again to a kiss on your forehead, “Hey, I have to go now. Akashi is going to pick you up and bring you to the game okay? I’ll see you later.”

You stretch your arms out indicating you want a hug you hear Bokuto chuckle again and lean down to hug you. You respond to him, “Okay, I’ll see you later my superstar. Good luck today. I love you.”

“Thank you sweetheart. I love you too.” Bokuto reluctantly pulls himself from the hug and leaves to go the stadium for his game. You turn to look at your phone to see the time and see it’s 6:00. You decide to fall back asleep because Akashi isn’t picking you up till 10 to take you to Bokuto’s game.

After sleeping for another two hours you roll out of bed due to your stomach growling. You walk to the kitchen to make yourself a quick but filling breakfast. Once you finish breakfast you go to get ready.

You decide to take a quick shower because you realize you only have an hour left until Akaashi gets here. You get out and dry yourself then throw on a robe. You go to brush your teeth and put on some makeup. Now to the hardest time, your outfit.

You walk into your big walk in closest to try and decide what you want to wear. Normally you just wear a team sweatshirt and a pair of jeans. You want to do something different but you want to be comfortable and not seem like you are overdressing for the game. You decide to stick with jeans but wear a different top. Then it hits you, you should surprise Bokuto with wearing one of his jerseys!

You walk over to his side of the closest and see his last season jerseys and grab the black MSBY jersey. You quickly get dressed because you look at the time to see Akaashi should be here any minute. After you on your perfume you hear a knock at your door. You sprint to the front door while grabbing your purse and putting your shoes on. You open to door to be greeted by Akaashi.

“Hey. Ready to go?”

“Yep!” You turn around and lock your apartment door and head off with Akaashi to the game. You and Akaashi make small talk the entire way to the stadium. Once you get there Akaashi parks and turns to you, “He is going to freak seeing you wear that.”

“Like in a bad way? I can go buy a different shirt if you think it’s going to bug him.”

Akaashi quickly stops the doubts by saying, “No not in a bad way. It’s probably going to give Bokuto a push to play even better. Just be prepared to be smothered when you see him after the game.”

You nod your head then you two both get out of the car. Akaashi leads you two through security and to your seats that Bokuto got for you two.

It takes a little bit after you sit down to have the teams come out to warm up. You see the teams start to walk out and hear the crowd go crazy. You start cheering to get Bokuto’s attention. Bokuto looks for you and locks eyes with you. He sees you wave at him and he stares at you. You tilt your head and give him a thumbs up mouthing ‘are you okay?’ Bokuto snaps out of whatever trance he was in and gives you a big smile while pointing to his jersey and giving you a thumbs up.

The game goes by quickly because of how well MSBY played. Akaashi was right, Bokuto was extremely hyped today and you can see it through all the spikes he had today. Once the game is over Akaashi leads you down to the court to meet up with Bokuto.

You see Bokuto taking some photos with younger fans once he’s done he turns his head and locks sight onto you. Within a second hesitation he is running towards you. He picks you up and spins you around, “Sweetheart you look absolute gorgeous in that jersey. It made me really happy and made me want to play even better since I had someone out there wearing my jersey. I just love you so much.”

Bokuto sets you down then pulls you into a deep kiss before you can respond to him. Once you both pull away from the kiss you can respond, “Thank you Bokuto, I love you so much too. You shined so bright out there my superstar. Maybe I’ll wear the jersey more often then.”

Bokuto eagerly shakes his head, “YES PLEASEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!! I’ll give you ALL of my jerseys to wear!!”

You laugh at his response and give him another hug. You hear more fans call out to Bokuto so you let go so his fans can meet him. He gives you a quick kiss then sets off. He quickly meets his fans and gets showered and changed so you two can go home.

As soon as your home Bokuto drags you to your guys bedroom and makes you try on EVERY SINGLE JERSEY he has. Whenever you come to his games now, he always gives you a jersey to wear.

Daichi

It ended up being another late night of babysitting your neighbors kids. You are exhausted and can barely keep your eyes open. You shocked yourself that you walked all the way down the hall to your and Daichi’s apartment and opened the door without stumbling.

You try to be as quiet as you can while navigation thought the dark apartment because you know Daichi is sleeping. He has had a lot of long shifts recently and has barely been getting any sleep. He finally has a day off tomorrow and you are going to make sure he rests the entire day.

You walk into your bedroom to see him fast asleep which makes you happy. You walk to your closet and grab a random shirt of Daichi’s and a pair of sweatpants. You then go to the bathroom the change and do you nighttime routine.

Before you go to leave the bathroom you go to look at yourself in the mirror. You see that you’re wearing Daichi’s old high school volleyball jersey but you’re too lazy to change so you switch off the light to the bathroom and head to bed. Once you’re in your shared bed you curl up to Daichi and quickly fall asleep feeling Daichi hold you tightly against him.

You and Daichi end up sleeping in but you still wake up before him. You check your phone to see what time it is and it’s 9:00 am. You feel sore because those kids you babysit show you no mercy. So you sit up to stretch your arms and back.

Daichi feels movement in the bed as he wakes up so he opens his eyes to see you stretching. He doesn’t recognize the shirt you are wearing at first so he blinks his eyes a couple of times to get the sleepiness out of his eyes. Once his vision focuses he realizes what you are wearing, his volleyball jersey from his last year in high school.

Daichi sits up and pulls you into him and places tiny kisses on your neck. You turn to try and face him but have a hard time since he’s kissing you. “Daichi, you should still be sleeping. You finally have a day off.”

Daichi pulls his head out from your neck, “Not tired anymore. I got off early last night and basically passed out as soon as I got home. Slept for like 15 hours. You look pretty in my jersey by the way.”

You respond, “Well I’m glad you got that much sleep you really needed it. The bags under your eyes were getting worse. But thank you. I realized I grabbed it instead another one of your t shirts. I was so tired from dealing with those kids I just wanted to go to bed and be with you. I can go switch now so I don’t ruin it.”

Daichi pauses and tightens his grip on you and stumbles out a question, “Uh, could you actually keep it on? I really like how it looks on you. I have no idea why I didn’t think about having you wear it before.”

You smile as you look at him, “I can keep it on. But I have a quick question, since I don’t know much about volleyball I hope this doesn’t sound stupid. Doesn’t the line under the 1 mean you were a captain?”

Daichi looks and you and gives a small smile, “It’s not stupid. You went to school that didn’t have a volleyball team so you don’t know much about it before you met me. You are right though. I was a captain my last year of playing.”

You giggle at him and he raises an eyebrow at you. “Sorry, sorry. It’s just it makes so much sense that you were a captain. You’re a natural born leader and you care deeply about everyone you. Your teammates were lucky to have you as a captain. I wish I could have seen you in action.”

Daichi blushes at your compliment but then remembers something. He jumps out of bed and goes to pull out a box from under the bed. You look at him confused until he opens the box. You see it’s a bunch of film.

He speaks up, “Thank you for the compliments my love. I know this won’t be the same as seeing it in action but I still have all the game films from my last year. We can watch them together if you like.”

You jump out of bed and join him by his side. You wrap your arms around his neck and pull him down into a kiss. You two separate and you say, “I would love nothing more than that.”

You two spend the rest of the day watching the old game films. During it he told you more about his team and what it was like being their captain. He tried to even skip the game where he got hurt so you didn’t have to witness it but you told him that you wanted to watch it because you could comfort him now since you weren’t there in the moment. Daichi also had you wear his jersey the entire time you two were watching the films.

Sugawara

You finish up making and Suga’s bento and hear him running around. Today is his schools sports festival so he is super excited. He made each of his students little goodie bags to give to them after the festivities.

Suga was really such a caring person and you can really see that through his job. He cares about every single student he has and wants nothing but the best for them. You wish there were more teachers like him.

You hear him getting closer and see him run into the kitchen. Suga walks quickly over to you and gives you a kiss and the check and says, “Sorry darling I have to go, I’m already running late. I said I’d be there early to help set up. I’ll see you later!” And the tornado that he has been this morning is out the door before you get chance to respond.

You stand there but laugh to yourself, he forgot his bento… again. It’s okay, you’ll just bring it to him later.

You go about your morning routine and getting ready. You saw the Suga was wearing his blue high school volleyball jersey to school today to get the students in the mood for the festival. But now as you’re getting dressed you see the orange one still laying on the bed. He must have been debating between which one he wanted to wear. Little does he know that he actually solved your debate.

You grab the jersey and some leggings to wear so you can go drop his bento off at his school. Once you have the jersey on you go to look yourself in the mirror. The jersey is pretty big on you but it is really comfortable. No wonder why Suga always talked about how much he loved his volleyball uniform.

You grab your phone and send him a text saying you’re coming to drop off the bento he forgot. He quickly responds to apologize and swears he’s never going to forget it again (you guys know he is, but it’s the thought that counts). You actually don’t get mad at him, it’s a time where you get to see him in his element of teaching and it warms your heart. Plus when do you not want to see your boyfriend?

You go to grab the bento and purse then make your way to the front door to put on your shoes. You are now off to the school.

You decide to walk because it is such a nice day and you did leave a bit earlier than you probably should have so you’re killing some time. You two only live about a 20 minute walk from the school so it’s not a hassle at all.

You start to see the school in the distance. You see all the decorations and hear all the cheers. This really takes you back. You continue to walk until you get to security. They see you and give a small hello and wave (they know the drill too). One of the security officers tells you that Suga’s class hasn’t come out yet and are still inside.

You make your way inside the school and to his classroom. The kids should technically be in the lunchroom but Suga always leaves his classroom open so kids can eat in there if they choose. Once you’re outside the classroom you slide open the door to see the kids tackling and playing with your boyfriend.

A couple kids hear someone come in and turn their head. You only know some of the kids because of this “routine” you have but you don’t recognize the ones looking at you. One kids speaks up, “Look, someone matches Sensei!”

Everyone turns their heads including Suga who looks confused. Then he sees you standing there in his jersey holding his bento. He’s never seen you wear his jersey before but now that’s the only thing he wants you to wear.

He quickly tells the kids to get off of him and get back to their seats so they can finish eating. Suga then quickly strides over to you and gives you a smile, “Why hello there darling. Got something for me?”

You laugh, “Yes, you goofball. Here is your bento, it’s your favorite.”

He smirks at you, “You’re the best, but I meant something else.” You stare at him confused and he is quick to say, “That other something is a sight. The sight of you in my jersey is very nice.”

“Well I thought I’d also get in the mood for the sports fest if I had to bring you your lunch. But I’ll head out now because I don’t want to take up too much of your time.” You stand on your tippy toes and give him a quick kiss and a soft goodbye before leaving. Now Suga stands there in shock without getting a response in.

A couple hours later you hear Suga come in the front door dropping off all the extra stuff he has there too. He immediately looks for you and finds you in the kitchen cooking. You’re cutting up some veggies for whatever dinner you’re making but he can’t wait. He still sees you in his jersey and it makes him so giddy.

He walks over to you and puts down the knife then spins you around. You are now trapped between him and the counter. Suga leans down and starts you two in deep kiss. You return it easily while setting your hands on his chest while he sets his hands on your hips. You two continue to kiss until he pulls away and puts his head on your forehead.

“I’ve been wanting to do that all day since I’ve seen you in my jersey. I need you to wear it more.”

You blush and hide yourself in his chest. He lets out a deep chuckle and goes to hug you tighter against him. You squeak out, “I can do that, if it makes you that happy.”

“Trust me darling, it makes me happy.” From then on you almost live in his jerseys besides when you need to wash them. Which makes Suga VERY happy.

[mattsnight]

Summary: in which Chris can’t hide his feelings for Y/N any longer.

Warnings: cursing !!

WC: 5k+++

Chris hated how he felt for you. The extreme feelings were overwhelming and it was hard keeping them together. He couldn’t live like this. He couldn’t live knowing you were his best friend and that nothing would ever happen with the two of you.

You were always the clingy kind of type. You couldn’t be alone for more than 24 hours and always had to be with someone who you loved. Most of the times it was Chris, which he didn’t mind at first, but when his feelings for you started, it all became a lot.

You came over to the triplets’ house today, since Chris hasn’t been answering your calls. You were really worried about him. When you walked into the house you were met with an angry Chris. He didn’t want you here at all. He didn’t want to talk. It hurt him to do this shit to you, but he needed these feelings gone. And there it was, he was bottling up all his feelings and is now taking it out on you.

“Jesus what the fuck is wrong with you?” You say to Chris as he just ignored you when you tried giving him a simple hug. He never did this, he would always hug you even when he was annoyed. He lets out a huff, rubbing his eyes as he glances in your direction.

"Me? Nothing is wrong with me, I'm absolutely fine. It's you, you're just always around being clingy, I can't even breathe without you being all over me. Seriously, do you have to be so clingy? Give me a break every once in a while," Chris bites back with a roll of his eyes. A small gasp leaves your mouth at his sudden anger. “What the hell happened to you, chris? At first you’re all nice and sweet to me and now you’re acting like a huge dick.”

Chris grits his teeth, turning to look you in the eyes a lot sharper than usual. "So now it's wrong that I've decided to give myself a break from your clinginess? Is that a crime now?" He quips, raising a brow at you unimpressed. "God, you're always so needy, you can't even go half a day without wanting my attention. Have you ever considered that maybe I'd want alone time?”

“I was giving you one hug, chris. I wasn’t sat on your lap touching your chest while waiting for you to fuck me!” You yell back, anger now running through your body. Chris is visibly taken aback by your words, the harsh bite of them makes his chest ache, but he can't focus on that right now. He lets out an annoyed huff, running his fingers through his hair and sighing. "You always hug me!" He points out, throwing his arms out. "Like, it's never just one hug, you're always all over me, no matter if we're alone or in public. It's like you can't stand the thought of not being attached to me or something!"

“Im not always hugging you! I was so excited to see you, is one hug that bad?” You say, running your hands through your hair. "And there it is again, the excuses!" Chris exclaims in annoyance. "You're always all over me, you've gotta touch me. You know I'm not the biggest fan of physical touch, so why are you always so clingy with me, huh, can you answer that?" He asks, raising a brow at you with an expectant expression on his face.

“Because we’re friends? Cus i enjoy being with you? Because maybe im trying to get our friendship back!” Yeah, that one hurt. It had been a while since you and Chris had hung out. At first you thought it was because he got a girlfriend, but he didn’t, Nick told you that.

"And you need to cling to me to do that? You need to be attached to me at all times to do that, is that it?" Chris asks, clearly still frustrated and a little on edge. "It's annoying. I'm allowed to want my own goddamn space every once in a while, why's that so hard for you to understand? I just want a little space to breathe, alone, without having you sticking yourself to me like glue."

Fuck, why did it have to go like this? You hated this and you knew he did too. There was hurt smashed on both of your faces, but the both of you didn’t stop. “Then tell me to shut up, leave and never come back!” You say, a voice crack slipping through. Chris's eyes widen slightly, his mouth going slightly agape at your words, his heart beating loud in his chest. He did not see that coming. "What?" He asks, a hint of surprise sneaking into his voice. “Tell me to leave, end our friendship and do whatever the fuck you want without me.” You repeat with a voice crack.

Chris's jaw clenches, his chest feels tight and his stomach sinks at your words. Every fibre of his being wanted to scream at you to shut up, to stay with him forever. He did not want you gone, but for some reason he just couldn't bring himself to tell you. "I don't want-" he tries to protest, swallowing hard and averting his gaze. "I don't want that."

“Then what do you want, Chris?!”

"You!" His eyes widen the moment the word escapes his mouth, he didn't mean to say that, he meant to say anything other than that. He clamps his mouth shut, staring at you with a mix of shock and frustration. “What?” You say quietly, not believing that you heard him right.

"I- nothing, I... nothing, forget I said that," he runs his fingers through his hair, cursing himself inwardly. This did not get better. "I just... I think, maybe, we should just have some time apart for a while. Take some space, I'll be fine without you glued to my side, you'll be fine without me around all the time." His voice stays the same, not even a slight change.

“You said me.. chris.. what does that mean?”

"I said nothing, alright?" Chris snaps, trying to cover up his slip of the tongue, but it was too late. He couldn't lie his way out of this now. He lets out a huff, scrubbing his face with his hand, looking at you with a frustrated expression on his face. "Damnit... you weren't supposed to hear that."

You take a small step back at his snap. It wasn’t because you were scared, you wanted to give him space. His expression softens just the slightest as he sees you take a step back, his heart panging in his chest as he registers the hurt in your eyes. He shakes his head in defeat. "No, I... Damnit, I can't... Look, I can't do this right now." He runs a hand through his hair again, turning his back to you and walking a few moments. Clearly he was frustrated and upset about the whole situation. “Chris—“ you try, but he doesn’t want to talk.

"Just don’t." He bites, his voice low as he keeps his back turned to you. He clearly wasn't in the mood to keep the conversation going. He was upset, and in pain, and he knew he was hurting you as well. He didn't want to hurt you, but he knew he was, and that was so much worse in his mind. “Please just talk to me, Chris. I want to understand what is going on.”

"What is there to talk about, huh?" Chris turns to look at you again, eyes sharp and his muscles coiled tight with tension. "What are we supposed to talk about? I said something I wasn't supposed to, I can't take it back, so what do you want me to say? I don't want to talk about it, not like this, not right now."

He is still staring at you, his expression pained and frustrated. It was like he was trying to hold back so many things, trying desperately to keep them all at bay and yet they were so obvious on his face. "And what was that little stunt anyway, huh? Trying to get a reaction out of me, is that it? Well great, you got one. You did what you set out to do, I screwed up. I said something I shouldn't have said. Happy?"

Your eyes start filling up with pain. It wasn’t your intention to do this. You didn’t mean any of it, you just wanted a reason why you’re losing your best friend. Chris's heart clenches within his chest at the sight of your hurt expression. The sharp pang of guilt and regret hits him hard, but it doesn't stop him from continuing. "You wanted a reaction, and you got it. I'm human. Do you think you can just prod and poke at me all the time and I won't snap back?" He bites, narrowing his eyes at you despite the panging in his heart. “Im sorry, okay?…” you say.

"You're sorry, is that it? You're sorry?” Chris snaps, taking a step closer as he towers over you. His face is a mixture of anger and pain, despite the growing guilt at the expression on your face. “You're sorry? Great, that just fixes everything, doesn't it? You didn't mean to make me snap, didn't mean to prod and poke at me until I exploded, but that's fine because you're sorry now, right?" All his anger is aimed at you when you just tried to fix something broken. You don’t dare to speak, scared you’ll ruin it even more.

"Yeah, that's exactly what I thought," he continues, his voice still sharp and bitter. "You can apologise all you want but it's not gonna change the fact that you got exactly what you wanted out of me. You pushed me to the limit, and you got a reaction. So don't bother apologising, it's too late for that." He says, letting out a frustrated huff while scrubbing his face with his hand as anger and guilt clash together in his mind. He wants to yell at you, wants to scream at you and let it all out, but at the same time the sight of your hurt expression is killing him. "Goddamnit.." he mutters under his breath, running his fingers roughly through his hair.

“I should go home.. this isn’t gonna work.” You finally say, breaking the silence. "Yeah... maybe you should," Chris responds, but the moment the words escape his mouth he wishes he could take them back. His heart is panging against his chest, his stomach clenches with guilt at the idea of you leaving. He didn't want you to go anywhere, he wanted to talk to you, he wanted you to not look so hurt and upset, but he'd gone and made it all worse in his anger.

You grab your bag quickly after his respond, ready to leave. Chris can’t take this anymore, he needs to make this right. He needs to talk to you. His heart drops to his stomach as you reach for your bag, the reality of the situation hitting him hard as he watches you get ready to leave. "Just... just wait," he says suddenly, the words slipping out before he can even think about it. "Please don't go. I... shit.”

He falters, his breath catching as he tries to find the right words. "I... look, just... just sit down, alright?" He asks, his voice suddenly much softer and more vulnerable than before. He wanted you to stay. He couldn't stand the thought of you leaving right now, he needed you to stay. He swallows hard, forcing out the next words as his heart pounds in his chest. "Please just... just sit down. We need to talk, not like this. Just... just sit down and listen to me. Please."

“Why does this all have to be so difficult?” You ask, sitting down on the couch to listen to him. "I don't know!" Chris exclaims, frustration and annoyance rising in his voice again. Why does it have to be so difficult? He should've just kept his mouth shut in the first place, he'd made a huge mess and he knew it. "I don't know why it has to be so... so difficult." He repeats, softer this time. "I don't... I just don't know." He scrubs his face with his hand, gritting his teeth and taking a deep, calming breath.

“What happened between us?” You ask, wanting answers. Chris's heart pang's in his chest again at your question. A million answers could've come to his mind, but he couldn't get the words out of his mouth. Instead, he clenches his jaw, sighing deeply and shaking his head. "I don't know," he repeats again, his frustration growing. "I... I don't know, things just... changed."

He runs his fingers through his hair, raking his brain for the right words to say, the right way to explain things without saying too much. "I can't explain it. Things just... look, it's just so complicated." He glances at you, his expression a mixture of pain and confusion. He looks away again quickly, sighing heavily and shaking his head. "Things just aren't how they used to be. Something changed... and it's all wrong now."

“Does it have anything to do with you saying that you want.. me?”

Chris visibly tenses, his breathing catching in his chest as the memory of his earlier words comes back to him. He swallows hard and nods, his heart thudding against his ribcage. "Yeah," he mutters, his voice strained. "It has... everything to do with that." He says before looking up at you again, his expression pained and his eyes full of anguish. "You weren't supposed to hear that," he explains, his voice cracking slightly. "I didn't... I didn't mean for you to hear that. I didn't want you to know."

“But you said it, what does it mean?”

Chris takes a deep breath, his heart thudding so hard in his chest it's all he can hear. He knew he was in too deep now, there was no backing out. "It means exactly what you think it means," he mutters, his voice low and heavy. "I... I want you. I want you." He couldn't believe the words were coming out of his mouth, but now they were out there in the open and he couldn't take them back. His eyes search your face, looking for a reaction, a response, any sign of how you felt at his words, but he couldn't find it. "I... I want you," he repeats, his voice hoarse and raw with emotion. "I've wanted you for a long time, and it's been killing me. I... I've messed it up, I know I've messed it up and I can't take it back, but it's the truth. I want you. I need you."

“Jesus christ, Chris.. we could’ve talked about this sooner without that arguing.” You groan as waves of mixed feelings wash over you. Chris lets out a bitter laugh, shaking his head as he runs his hands through his hair again. "You think I wanted to argue with you? This is exactly what I was trying to avoid. I didn't want to deal with this, I didn't want to admit this." He sighs deeply, his heart panging in his chest as he meets your gaze. "I'm an idiot," he mutters, his voice quiet. "I just ruined everything, didn't I?"

“No chris— god.. i am in love with you too.”

Chris's heart stops in his chest, his breath catching in his throat as your words wash over him, a rush of emotions surging through him at your confession. His eyes widen, his heart thudding so hard against his ribcage he's sure you can hear it. He just stares at you for a moment, like his brain isn't quite comprehending what he's just heard. "You... what?" He asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

“I love you, chris..” you say. Those three words hit Chris like a ton of bricks, knocking the air out of his lungs and sending his heart into overdrive. He didn't think he'd ever hear those words from anyone, especially not from you. His expression softens, a mix of surprise and wonder and disbelief on his face as he takes a cautious step towards you, like he's afraid he might shatter whatever fragile dream he's suddenly found himself in. "You... you mean that?" He asks, his voice hoarse and low.

“Yes! I have for a long time, but i didn’t know how to feel when you just.. stopped talking to me.”

A wave of emotions washes over Chris at your words. Relief, joy, disbelief, excitement. He swallows hard, his eyes never leaving yours as he takes another step closer to you. "You... you love me?" He repeats, his voice a little shaky as he tries to process everything. "You love me?" He takes one more step towards you, his expression full of hope and awe. You look up at him, noticing he was already staring at you. His blue eyes are searching your face for any sign of dishonesty or deception. Instead, all he sees is love, and a whole lot of it. His heart is beating so hard in his chest it physically hurt, but he didn't care. All he could see was you, and the fact that you just confessed to loving him. He reaches out hesitantly, slowly putting a hand on your waist, like he's afraid you'll vanish if he moves too quickly.

And there it was, the kiss you’ve both longed for. It feels like a switch is flipped inside the two of you. Like you’re finally free. Your hands move to his cheeks, pulling him impossibly closer. His hands move to your ass, letting them rest there. Everything is how it’s supposed to be.

When the kiss finally breaks, Chris's expression is a mixture of wonder and shock, like he can't believe that just actually happened. His heart is pounding in his chest, his brain struggling to process what's just happened. He couldn't believe that you actually wanted him, that you loved him. He lets out a breathless laugh, his face still so close to yours that he can feel your breath on his face. “Shit that was so good.” He says, trying to get some air. Oh and it was good.

It was the best kiss you’ve ever had.

The end<3

Oh my god why is this sooo long :,) i hope yall liked it!

[spotsandsocks]

Had to write this it’s been bothering me!!

Give me a moment 2.6k

Eddie’s ready to go to Texas, Buck's ready to say goodbye. Then the conversation takes a surprising turn and Buck finds out the whole truth about what happened with Kim on the day that changed everything for them all.

The boxes are all piled up, ready to go and Buck can hardly look at them. If he’s told himself that it’s for the best once then he’s said it a thousand times. 

Despite that it’s the deepest, darkest most secret wish of his heart that this wasn’t happening but it is and he’ll just have to deal with it. It’s for the best. It’s what Eddie needs to do. It’s what Chris needs too. He can visit, FaceTime, it won’t be the same, he’s not stupid but he can survive. Probably. 

At least the house is just being rented out for now. At least Eddie has given him that much to hold onto. The hope that they might actually come back one day. It’s not much but it’s  something.

“I wish…”

Buck turns his head to Eddie’s voice. It’s the first time he’s spoken in an hour. They’re both lying on the floor, the couch is already in storage along with the other things Eddie’s not taking with him to Texas. 

“I wish, I hadn’t walked past that shop, that I never saw her. I wish none of it had happened.”

Buck looks back up at the ceiling. Right, her; Kim - Shannon mark 2. The woman Eddie lost his mind and his kid for. 

The woman who looked enough like his dead wife that he threw everything away for one more one more time together.  

The woman that Chris found in his house. 

Her. Buck wishes that Eddie had never seen her too, which is probably unfair to Kim. None of this was her fault after all. She’d  seemed nice enough when he’d met her at the station, after the shock of seeing the spitting image of Eddie’s dead wife wore off of course.

The likeness was remarkable with just enough differences between them to know it wasn’t really her. They’ve never talked about this, looks like they are now.

“I didn’t tell you but I told her about Shannon, about why I wanted to spend time with her. I showed her pictures, I said I was sorry.  That it was wrong. She was upset but I stopped it. After you talked to me, I realised I was being…” the pause last a while, 

“You know, I still don’t know what I was being or what I really wanted from her.”

Lifting himself up off the floor to rest on one elbow Buck studies the profile of the calm, still face of his best friend. It’s the face of a man who’s resigned himself to his fate. Eddie’s flat on his back, eyes closed lying in the remnants of a life he’d tried to build for himself and his son. A life that collapsed around him after one or maybe two bad decisions.

“When she left I thought it was over. I was relieved, thought it would be ok but then she came back.” 

If Eddie was looking at him he’d see the frown land on Buck’s face at that brand new piece of information. What does Eddie mean she came back? 

Next to him, the calm facade falters and Eddie’s face crumples, his feelings escaping in the thin lines of distress. Buck knows it’s just a weak echo of the distress he must have felt that day, made smaller, quieter by Eddie’s rigid self control. 

“She came back Buck and she looked…” 

It sounds like a confession, Eddie’s breath shakes on the way out and Buck’s heart beats faster. There’s something bad coming. Something he doesn’t know about.

A voice that doesn’t really sound like Eddie at all continues slowly, each word forced out. 

“She looked.. just.. like… her. She’d …” 

Eyes squeezed shut Eddie’s hand waves vaguely around his head. 

“It was a shock, it hurt to look at her. I said no. I asked her to go, to stop because…  because I knew… I knew it was wrong,  before I always knew she wasn’t Shannon but when she came back and she looked, like that…”

The pained look deepens, Eddie eyes open, glassy and full of unshed tears. It makes Bucks chest ache. 

“It was her. It really was.”

Unsure what he’s hearing Buck just tells the truth. 

“Eddie I don't understand what you’re telling me.”

The laugh that leaves Eddie’s lips is painful to hear, broken and hurt. It slices at Buck’s chest. 

“Neither do I. She was an actress  but I don’t know how she did it. The hair yeah, she’d cut it, dyed it and the clothes she’d seen those in the photos.”

An uneasy feeling stirs in the pit of Buck's stomach. Eddie’s not said anything about this before. He’d assumed… he’d assumed something very different.

“But she was Shannon… it felt like  I was looking at her, that she was right there in front of me.”

Again for a second his face shows the truth, before it’s packed away like all his other belongings. 

“She looked just like her Buck and I wanted to know. I wanted to know so badly.”

Chest tight Buck asks a question, worried he already knows what’s coming.

“Eddie? What are you saying?”

There’s no direct answer but the truth is bleeding out into the room and it’s making Buck feel more than a little nauseous.

“She was trying to be kind. Trying to help me, to say goodbye. Ask the questions I didn’t have answers to. I told her no, I said go, but I  I wanted to know why.”

The voice telling the story breaking Buck's heart cracks. 

“She, she was as close as I could get to knowing why.”

Then in a moment Buck knows will haunt him, Eddie’s sad brown eyes open and find his. The hurt in them is breathtaking, sharp and raw and enough to make him check he hasn’t actually been punched in the chest. 

With a hand held just above his aching heart, he clutches at the fabric bunched beneath his fingers to stop him from reaching out to his friend. He feels helpless, there’s no way to change what’s already happened to Eddie, all Buck can do is listen and finally understand the truth of what he went through the day he let Christopher leave.

“I just wanted to know why. Why didn’t she love me, why didn’t I get a letter. Why did she want to leave me twice?”

Blinking back his own tears Buck understands that he’s made a mistake. A big one. And probably not just him. He’d thought that Eddie and Kim had… but no, he was wrong about that. That’s clear now, the tears rolling down Eddie’s face, silent and helpless tell a very different story. 

continue on Ao3

@actualalligator @bekkachaos @beyourownanchor6 @buddiediaz118 @becausebuckley @bi-buckrights @caroandcats @daffi-990 @dangerpronebuddie @dr-shortsighted-owl @darkrose6578 @diazsdimples @doctorkinney @diazheartsbuckley @eddiebabygirldiaz @exhuastedpigeon @elvensorceress @fiona-fififi @giddyupbuck @honestlydarkprincess @hermscat @hippolotamus @inell @jesuisici33 @lonelychicago @lover-of-mine @monsterrae1 @pirrusstuff @repressedqueen @ronordmann @rainbow-nerdss @spaceprincessem @stagefoureddiediaz @steadfastsaturnsrings @shipperqueen6 @tizniz @thekristen999 @thelikesofus @theplaceyoustillrememberdreaming @theotherbuckley @underwaterninja13 @watchyourbuck @weewootruck @wildlife4life

[midnight-shadow-cafe]

Embers of Betrayal

Pairing: Task Force 141 x reader

AU: Knight 141 x Healer Reader

Warnings: There is a lot of fighting in this, mentions of the group getting attacked and the healer (aka you) as well as Soap will be hurt

Authors Note: I hope you enjoy! I’ve decided to kinda make the ‘Knight 141 x Healer! Reader’ kinda like a oneshot Story instead of how I’ve made Shadow and Paws, do enjoy this series!

Word Count: 1.1k

Masterlist

MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+

The crackle of the campfire echoed in the stillness of the forest, its embers dancing up into the ink-black sky. Around you, the 141 knights moved like shadows, their well-worn armor clinking softly as they secured the camp’s perimeter. Price stood near the fire, his gaze hard and vigilant, while Soap whistled a jaunty tune that failed to mask the tension in his shoulders.

The past weeks of travel had taken a toll on all of you, but tonight felt different. You couldn’t put your finger on it, but an ominous weight pressed against your chest, making it hard to breathe.

Soap plopped down beside you, breaking your spiraling thoughts. “You’re quiet tonight, lass. That’s not like you.”

You glanced up, forcing a small smile. “Just tired.”

“Aye, I’d believe that, but you’ve got a look about you—like you’re bracing for a fight that hasn’t started yet.” His tone was light, but his eyes were sharp, reading you too easily.

You hesitated. “It’s just… a feeling. Something’s coming.”

Soap frowned, his playful demeanor fading. “A feeling? How long’ve you had it?”

“Since we made camp.” You rubbed your arms, as though trying to dispel the cold that seeped into your bones. “It’s like… I can’t explain it, but something bad is going to happen. To me, or to you. Maybe all of us.”

His jaw tightened. “And you’re only saying this now?”

“I didn’t want to worry anyone,” you admitted, avoiding his gaze.

“Well, too late for that,” he muttered, standing abruptly. “Price!”

“What is it?” Price’s voice was a steady rumble as he strode over, his sword sheathed but ready.

Soap explained your feeling, his voice low but urgent. Price’s brow furrowed, his expression unreadable.

“Why didn’t you say anything sooner?” Price asked, his tone gentler than you expected.

“I wasn’t sure if it meant anything,” you replied. “But now…”

Price nodded grimly. “We’ll stay sharp. Ghost, Gaz, double the perimeter watch. Soap, you stay close to her.”

Ghost and Gaz exchanged a glance before moving to obey. Soap sat back down, closer this time, and gave you a reassuring pat on the shoulder.

“Don’t worry, lass. We’ve got your back.”

The attack came without warning.

You’d barely begun to relax when a sharp whistle pierced the night air. An arrow streaked toward the fire, embedding itself into a log with a hollow *thunk*.

“Ambush!” Price’s voice boomed as he unsheathed his sword, the firelight gleaming off the polished steel.

The camp erupted into chaos. Figures clad in dark cloaks surged from the treeline, their blades glinting in the dim light. The 141 moved as one, their weapons flashing as they met the attackers head-on.

Soap pushed you behind him, his dagger gleaming in the firelight. “Stay close, lass!”

But the enemy was relentless, and the camp was too small to avoid the fray. A soldier lunged at you, his sword arcing toward your head.

Your instincts kicked in before you had time to think. You raised your hands, a burst of golden light flaring between your palms. The spell struck the soldier square in the chest, sending him sprawling to the ground.

Soap glanced back, his eyes wide with surprise. “That’s new.”

“No time for explanations!” you shouted, drawing the dagger he’d given you weeks ago.

Another attacker came at you, his blade slashing in a wild arc. You ducked under the swing, your dagger slicing across his leg. He crumpled with a scream, and you kicked him away before spinning to face the next threat.

You lost track of time, the world narrowing to a blur of steel and magic. Each spell you cast drained your energy, but the adrenaline coursing through your veins kept you moving. You were dimly aware of Ghost and Gaz fighting nearby, their movements precise and lethal, while Price barked orders to regroup.

A sudden blow to your side knocked the wind out of you. You stumbled, your vision swimming as a soldier grabbed your wrist, twisting it until the dagger fell from your grasp.

“You’re the healer,” he sneered, yanking you toward him. “Your friends will trade anything to get you back.”

Panic flared in your chest, but before you could react, the soldier was ripped away. Ghost loomed behind him, his blade slicing through the man’s armor with terrifying ease.

“You all right?” Ghost’s voice was low and urgent as he crouched beside you.

“I’m fine,” you gasped, clutching your side.

He helped you to your feet, his hand lingering on your arm for a moment before he turned back to the fight.

By the time the last attacker fell, the camp was in ruins. The fire had been extinguished during the skirmish, and the only light came from the moon and the faint glow of your healing magic as you worked to patch up Soap’s shoulder.

“You’re full of surprises, lass,” he said with a wince. “Didn’t know you could fight like that.”

“I didn’t either,” you admitted, your hands trembling as you sealed the wound.

Price crouched beside you, his expression grim. “What the hell was that back there?”

You swallowed hard, still reeling from the battle. “I told you—I had a feeling something bad was going to happen.”

He studied you for a long moment, his blue eyes sharp. “And this feeling of yours… is it always this accurate?”

You hesitated. “It’s not always this strong. But when it is, I’ve learned not to ignore it.”

Gaz, who had been standing nearby, frowned. “Why didn’t you say anything sooner?”

“I didn’t want to alarm anyone,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

“You’re part of this team now,” Gaz said firmly. “Next time, speak up.”

Soap nodded, his usual grin replaced by a rare seriousness. “Aye. If you’ve got a gift like that, we need to know about it.”

Ghost remained silent, his dark eyes unreadable. But when he finally spoke, his voice was steady and deliberate. “They were after you.”

The words hung in the air like a curse.

“Why would they target me?” you asked, though you already knew the answer.

“You’re a healer,” Price said, his tone heavy. “In war, someone like you is worth more than gold.”

Soap’s hand landed on your shoulder, his grip reassuring. “They won’t get another chance, lass. Not while we’re here.”

Gaz nodded in agreement. “We’ll protect you. No matter what.”

For a moment, the weight of their words pressed against your chest, threatening to overwhelm you. But as you looked around at the faces of the men who had fought tooth and nail to keep you safe, you felt something stronger than fear.

Hope.

Hope you enjoyed! Please consider liking and reposting! -Midnight💜

[moody-alcoholic]

These Violent Delights

Chapter 17 - Maybe Tomorrow Is a Better Day

Summary: Poly 141 x fem!reader, a/b/o alternate universe 8.6k words. If you had to spend sometime recovering anywhere the Scottish highlands are not a bad place.

CW: MDNI +18 explicit content. a/b/o alternative universe, a/b/o dynamics, typical a/b/o universe tropes (nesting), hurt/comfort, nightmares, PTSD, mental health, sex, anal sex, oral (m receiving), handjob, fingering. 

AN: With Christmas coming up updates might be a bit slower.. sorry :/

Previous - masterlist - next AO3

Enjoy <3

1 week later 

You like Scotland. Johnny’s house is nice: there’s a pond out front, and it’s about a kilometre or so from a loch. It’s cold, but you don’t mind. You like spending time outside. You like that there are no walls around you—well other than the back garden, but Johnny says it’s to keep the wildlife off his plants.  There’s nothing planted now though, since it’s not the right time of year. Too cold. 

No base walls though, no guards or strangers. You could leave anytime you want. The house is isolated and surrounded by open fields and sparse forests. It’s different from Washington; the trees are different, the smells, the noises, even the grass. You wake early most days when the morning fog is heavy in the air and dew coats the grass. 

You like having alone time. You wake just as the sun is coming up. You make yourself tea and sit out in the back garden watching the sun rise until someone else gets up. Usually it’s John first. He always wakes up early. He smiles at you from the kitchen and then goes for a run. 

Then Simon and Johnny are usually next. They come out to sit with you but not for too long. As soon as John is back Simon goes for a run. You feel bad. You remember Kyle telling you that John insisted on there always being an alpha in the house.

You don’t understand why. There is no chemical anymore, no more people who will ever be exposed. With Dr. Piper gone, there’s never going to be a cure either. That makes you feel bad. You know how badly they wanted a cure. 

This morning feels particularly cold. There’s frost on the ground and you can see your breath in the air. You don’t really care, letting the tea warm your body. This time it’s Johnny who’s up first. He spies you from the kitchen, smiling, then comes out with a mug in his hands.

“It’s going to start getting really cold soon. You might have to take your tea inside so you don’t get sick.” He smiles, sitting down across the table from you. You don’t care how cold it gets, you like the freedom of being outside.

“I like the cold,” you say while taking a sip of your tea.

“You haven't made a nest yet,” Johnny says as a matter of fact. You don’t know what to say. You haven’t felt ready yet. You’re worried if you make a nest it might get destroyed. You had left behind the last nest you made. 

“I guess I haven’t really thought about it,” you say. That’s a lie, though: you have. There’s a space in the living room by the fireplace under a window. You want to be near the massive floor to ceiling bookcase. There’s an ottoman there now but you would move it. Maybe you do need to build a nest. Maybe it will help. 

“Well, me and Simon were thinking about going to town later. If you want to come we could look for some things?” 

“Sure,” you say. Johnny raises his eyebrows. You haven’t left the confines of the house or the back yard. Maybe he expected you to say no and he was going to have to convince you. You wanted to say no. You already feel like you’re regretting it. You like the solitude of Johnny’s house; it's secluded, quiet and away from anything or anyone.

You try to remember how far away the nearest town is, but you really have no idea. You look into the kitchen and see John moving around. He looks up and smiles, like he always does. You look back down, gripping your cup tighter. 

“Have you spoken to John yet?” Johnny asks. Your eyes flick up to him and you bring the mug to your lips. You don’t want to talk to him. You’re not ready yet. The hairs stand up on the back of your neck. You miss him. Just thinking about him makes a knot form in your stomach. 

It’s your job to keep the threads tight, it’s your job to keep the bonds strong. You miss John, but you’re just not ready. 

“I will, it’s just hard.” You take another big gulp of tea, letting it warm your throat. He looks at you pressing his lips together like he wants to say something but he doesn’t. 

“He misses you,” he says after a few seconds. It makes you feel guilty. You’re being a bad omega. You should just push your feelings to the side and be there for him. It’s not like you had a choice with Professor Hale. 

You stand up, ignoring Johnny’s attempts at apologies as you head back into the kitchen. John is still standing there, leaning against the sink. You place your mug on the kitchen island. You look up at him. His eyes never leave you as he brings his mug to his mouth. 

You open your mouth stepping forward like you want to say something. You don’t know what to say. You’re not ready to forgive him yet. Images of Dr. Piper's blooded face flood into your head. 

He did that. He could have stopped her. 

He could have stopped her. 

You storm out of the room down the hall up the stairs. You don’t know why it makes you so angry. You just want to run. 

“You alright?” Simon asks as you almost bump into him in the hallway. 

“I’m fine,” you snap. Your head is pounding as you look around, and you’re confused for a second looking for your room. Simon steps closer to you, his hand landing on your shoulder. 

“Hey, it’s okay,” he says, squeezing your shoulder. You snap back to reality looking at him. He’s frowning at you. You nod and turn to your room. You close the door behind you rushing over to the window to breathe in the cold morning air. 

There’s a knock at the door snapping you out of your daze.

“I’m fine,” you call back. There's a shakiness to your voice. You’re not ready yet.

The door opens anyway. You know it’s Simon, he only opens it a crack.

“You wanna leave the door open a bit. These doors are old, could get stuck and then we’ll have to break you out,” Simon says. You smile. You know that's not the real reason. None of them will admit the real reason though. 

“Thank you,” you say, then hear him moving away. His scent wafts into the room, filling your nose with gunpowder and the ground after rain. He did that on purpose, for you. He does such a good job at protecting his scent. 

You step away from the window sitting down on your bed. You look at Piper’s scarf tied to the bed head. It barely smells of her anymore. You run your fingers over it and it makes you upset. You look away. 

Now you wish you had a nest.

You don’t even realise how long it has been or how late it is until Johnny knocks at your room door. You finish the last page of the book you're reading and get up, your limbs stiff from being curled up in the rocking chair. 

“Hey, ready to leave?” he asks as you open the door. You nod, picking your jacket up from the back of the door.

“How did you like the book?” he asks, as you walk down the stairs. 

“It was okay.” You look down at it, some kind of romance book you picked for the pretty house on the cover. It just made you miss John. Maybe you need to stay away from those kinds of books for a while. You hang your jacket over the bannister and go into the living room to put the book away. 

When you walk in you see John and Kyle on the sofa, John’s arm is thrown round the back with Kyle angled slightly towards him. They both smile at you as you walk past the TV in silence to put the book back on the shelf. 

“Going down town?” Kyle asks. You nod trying your best to keep your eyes away from John. Kyle stands up reaching into his pocket and handing you something. You walk over to accept it. It’s a piece of folded up paper. 

“Shopping list.” He smiles. You nod back at him and head for the door to leave. 

“Have fun,” John says. You freeze, turning back to look at him. He’s smiling. You press your lips together and nod back at him before walking through the door. 

The room is empty again. John waits till he hears the front door close before getting up. Kyle follows him as John looks out the window watching everyone get into the car. Kyle opens the front door watching as the lights come on and they start to drive away.

John comes behind Kyle as they watch the car leave. He slips his hands around his waist pulling him up against him. 

“I could have gone instead of Simon,” Kyle says. John just hums, pressing his face into Kyle's neck, breathing him in. 

“I wanted to spend some time with you,” John says as Kyle turns in his arms. He keeps his hands on Kyle’s waist pressing his fingers into his soft skin. 

“You’ve done such a good job taking care of the omega, you deserve someone taking care of you,” John says leaning in and planting his lips on Kyle’s. It doesn’t take long for him to sink into the kiss letting his hands run up John’s shirt. 

John pulls him inside without breaking away from the kiss, closing the door behind them. Kyle is already getting needy, rubbing his thumbs over John’s nipples, who moans into his mouth. Kyle drags his tongue across Johns as his heels hit the bottom step. 

“C’mon,” John says, breaking away so he can lead Kyle up the stairs. They make their way into the master bedroom. John hoped he would be sharing this bed with you. Instead it feels empty at night. 

Kyle presses past him making his way over to sit on the edge of the bed. John smiles walking over, his hand comes up to brush Kyle’s cheek. 

“It’s been too long. I’m sorry I’ve been so busy,” John says, running his hands over Kyle's head. Kyle's arms come up to John’s waist, he presses his fingers into his skin. 

“It’s okay, I know things haven’t been easy,” Kyle says, running his hands back up Price’s shirt.

“I should have made time,” he says, grabbing the back of his shirt and pulling it over his head. 

“You’re making time now, that's what matters.” Kyle kisses his stomach, dipping his thumbs past John's waistband. He moves his hand to the front of John’s pants as he cups Kyle's face.

Kyle unbuckles John’s pants, undoing the button and letting them fall down. Kyle hums running his hand over John’s hardened cock, mapping it out over the fabric. 

“I’m supposed to be taking care of you,” he says, pulling Kyle’s face up to look at him. 

“Yeah, you’ll get a turn,” Kyle smiles. Without moving his eyes he pulls John’s boxers down letting his cock spring free. John lets out a sigh looking down at Kyle who moves his hands to grip around his member. He rolls his thumb over the head, making John twitch in his hands.

Kyle doesn’t wait for long, his eyes going shiny and his mouth filling with saliva. He wets his lips, taking John in his mouth. Kyle hums as he takes him all the way to the hilt. It makes John’s head tip back letting out his own moan as he throbs in Kyle’s mouth.

“I’ve missed your lips, your mouth. Christ, we should have done this sooner,” John breathes, his cock hardening, forcing Kyle to slow down. Kyle just hums. John looks down at him. His arms have wrapped around his waist. His nails dragging up and down his back make goosebumps rise on his body.

John lets himself relax, spreading his legs slightly while Kyle’s tongue presses hard, running up and down the underside of his cock. John moans, his hand moving to the top of Kyle’s head. He can’t help gently pushing on his head making sure he takes him all the way. His hand moves down his head to his neck, his fingers pressing into the sensitive skin. Kyle moans causing John to groan as the smell of vanilla fills the room.

Kyle pulls off him, saliva dripping down his chin. John sighs smiling as his hand comes around to cup his chin letting his thumb smear the saliva across Kyle's lips. 

“On the bed,” he orders, his voice rumbling. Kyle nods, pulling his shirt over his head before turning and crawling up on the bed. John runs his hands over Kyle's body as he turns lying flat on his back.

John bends down, unclipping Kyle's belt and buttons, grabbing his waistband, pulling the rest of his clothes off and throwing them over the chaise longue in the room. Kyle’s cock springs up. He’s wet, swollen, tip shiny with precum. 

“Fuckin’ gorgeous ain’t you,” John says, running his hand up Kyle's body leaning over him. He takes his time pinching his nipples, letting his hands map out each muscle and scar. The further down he gets the more kisses he leaves on Kyle’s skin, sucking on his sensitive spots leaving his mark. 

John reaches Kyle’s cock rubbing his thumb over the tip spreading the precum down his shaft. 

“So perfect, so pretty,” John says, pumping Kyle's cock causing him to tip his head back moaning out John’s name. “That’s it, keep making those pretty little noises and I'll make you feel good. You’ve worked so hard, you deserve to feel good.” 

“Anything for you, sir,” Kyle breathes, already sounding blissed out as John moves to kneel between his legs. He presses his thumb under the head of his cock, pulling his foreskin back and pressing his lips against his swollen tip.

John takes Kyle all the way making sure to wet the whole length, his chin resting on Kyle’s balls. It feels good having Kyle in his mouth. It’s a familiar feeling, something John can relax into, letting his guard down completely. 

The smell of vanilla fills the air, Kyle’s moans getting louder. Each one makes John’s cock twitch. He’s getting impatient. He needs to be inside Kyle, feel him tightening sround his dick, fucking him deep and long. That’s what he needs right now, a good hard fuck to clear his head.

He pulls his mouth off of Kyle looking over at his head still thrown back on the bed, his hands bunching the bedding. 

“Turn over,” John says, gripping Kyle’s waist to flip him. Kyle shuffles up the bed reaching over to the bedside table drawer. John was already gathering up saliva in his mouth as Kyle hands him a bottle of lube.  

“Ready for everything, huh?” John asks, throwing it down on the bed next to him, he wants to work him open some first, pressing his fingers in his mouth wetting them. Kyle hums, pressing his ass in the air, almost like you do when you’re presenting for him. It makes the hairs stand on the back of his neck. He pushes the thought of you away. He’s spending time with Kyle now.

“Open up for me,” John says, pressing his fingers against Kyle's hole. John works his fingers in, a moan rising from Kyle as he grips the bedding. John curls his fingers hitting the soft spot that makes Kyle press his face deeper into the bed. 

The beautiful moans make John’s cock throb as he works Kyle open letting his palm slam against Kyle’s skin. 

“You can take one more,” John says, pressing his lips on Kyle’s back teasing him with a third finger.

“Sir—” 

“Come on Kyle, you can take it,” John says, his voice grumbling from the back of his throat. It’s almost an order. An order Kyle follows, relaxing so John can press another finger into him. Kyle moans, almost screaming into the bedding as John speeds up. 

John reaches over and picks up the bottle of lube popping open the cap with one hand. He can’t wait any longer; he needs to feel Kyle clenching around his cock milking him until there’s nothing left. John takes his hand out using it to squirt lube over his cock smearing it around before lining himself up. 

“Such a good boy,” John breathes as he eases into him, letting out a satisfied moan to match Kyle. “ Oh fuck—” John breathes shifting on his knees so he’s in a better position. Kyle’s hands are still gripping the sheets, his head turned to the side, eyes squeezed shut. 

The smell of vanilla is thick in the air. They’ll have to open a window when they’re done. For now John doesn’t care, he slowly starts to buck his hips letting Kyle get used to him for a few thrusts. Then he reaches around his waist finding his cock and running his hand down the length. 

With the way Kyle is reacting to his body John’s not quite sure how long he’s going to last. He lets himself relax though only focusing on Kyle and his sweet moans, his incoherent babbling as John pumps his length. 

He wants to see Kyle, wants to look into his eyes when he cums. 

“Turn over for me,” John says, pulling out as he hears Kyle groan in protest. He turns over laying on his back spreading his legs. John steps off the bed hooking his arms under Kyle’s knees and pulling him to the edge.

John presses back up against Kyle's hole letting his tip tease him while he gets comfortable. 

“Look so pretty down there for me,” John says, his scent thick in the air. So is Kyle's, and it's making John's head spin. Kyle barely responds, humming something incoherent as he looks up at John. His eyes are glossy, his lips wet and puffy. John leans over and kisses him sucking on his bottom lip before standing back up again. 

He presses into Kyle watching as he arches his back. John’s hand presses on his abdomen pushing him down before wrapping his hand around Kyle’s cock. This time he quickly speeds up trying to match his thrusts with pumping Kyle’s dick. John’s hand is smeared in precum, adding the wet sounds mixed with their moaning.

Kyle's hand lazily comes on his chest brushing his nipples making him clench around John. It feels like fireworks. John groans, tipping his head back trying to focus on not cumming so quickly. He wants to stretch this out for as long as he can. 

Kyle is pulling on his nipples, squeezing them before running his thumb over them. 

“Close,” Kyle stutters, back arching. John squeezes the base of his cock, running his thumb over his balls. 

“Already?” John teases, slowing down his thrusts. He watches as more precum drips down his hand. “C’mon you can take it, a little longer.” John’s voice is low, the air filling with the smell of leather as he slowly builds up speed. 

Kyle looks up at him, and John can see the glint in his eyes. He leans over and his free hand comes up to rub Kyle’s cheek. Kyle turns his head kissing it, trying to suck on his fingers in a desperate attempt to get John to let him cum.

“Wait,” he says suddenly as he sits up in the bed wrapping his arms around John. 

“I’m supposed to be taking care of you,” John smiles as Kyle pulls off of him and scoots further into the bed patting for John to join him. John lays down letting his head sink into the pillows, his hand gently stroking himself as he watches Kyle who swings his legs over John straddling his waist. 

“Easy there, soldier,” John coos, running his hands over Kyle's thighs, squeezing them. Kyle reaches around grabbing John’s cock angling himself then guiding John into him. John’s head tips back into the pillows as they both shuffle their bodies getting comfortable. 

“Such a big strong alpha taking care of the pack,” Kyle says with a cheeky grin on his face, running his fingers up John’s chest as he bounces up and down on his cock. John looks up at him. There’s a twinkle in his eye. Shivers run up and down his body. His cock twitches, and Kyle clenches around him.

“Christ,” John breathes closing his eyes as the hairs stand up on the back of his neck. The scent of leather fills the air as John and Kyle chase the peak. John’s fingers dig into Kyle’s thighs gripping him tightly. Kyle pumps his cock with each bounce, and suddenly his movements become uneven, more desperate.

“Fuck sir—” Kyle calls John’s name as he cums, thick ropes shooting across John’s chest. John cums a few seconds later forcing Kyle down onto him as he fills him up, each throb causing him to grunt as he tries to normalise his breathing.

Kyle's eyes open and he looks down at John smiling. 

“Like being called a strong alpha?” Kyle asks, raising an eyebrow. John chuckles, shaking his head. Kyle leans down to kiss him, then he sits back up bracing his hands on John’s chest like he’s about to get off him. 

“No, you’re not done yet,” John says, running his hands up Kyle’s thighs. 

“Want to go again old man?” Kyle teases, getting up anyway to move next to John. Kyle hums, tracing his fingers across John’s abdomen, feeling John shiver under his touch until his hand makes its way to John’s cock. 

“Yeah, I could go again.” 

Kyle smiles. 

You’re driven to a small town about an hour from the house. The whole place looks picturesque: cobblestone roads and massive stone brick buildings. It’s almost like something out of a fairy tale. The whole town is surrounded by long fields and evergreen woods. 

As you drive down the main road you can see shops on both sides. There’s a carpark at the end of the road and a massive building with colourful windows and a huge bell on the top. Simon parks and you all get out. Your eyes are drawn to everything. There’s a cafe right next to the carpark with massive curved wooden windows that look hundreds of years old.

You end up grabbing Johnny's arm as he leads you round to the main street where the shops are. There’s a post office and various other shops, anything from clothes stores to what look like furniture stores. At the end of the street there is another fountain and a modern looking building with two entrances: one says NHS the other Tesco. The seemingly never ending gloom that hangs over the Scottish sky seems warm and cosy now with the shop lights spilling out onto the road. There are no cars, just people, dogs. You can hear music coming out from the cafe, gentle tunes that add to the atmosphere. It’s beautiful. 

“Where do you want to go first?” Johnny asks as you stop on the corner of the main street. You look up at him still trying to take it all in. He smiles at you, tipping his head. You squeeze his arm looking back down the road. There are a few people around: a group waiting at the bus stop, a woman with a stroller and a group of older ladies at the cafe.

“I don’t know,” you say. Everywhere, you want to go everywhere.

“There’s a book shop or we could go to the charity shop to see if we can find anything for your nest.” You look back down the street. 

“The book store,” you say. Johnny’s arm comes around your waist as he guides you down the road. 

“I’ll go to Tesco,” Simon says as Johnny stops outside what you assume is the book store. You’re looking in the windows while they chat, not paying attention, your eyes drawn over the books displayed on stands. 

“C’mon lass, there’s more inside,” Johnny says, his hand gently pushing you in. You’re not sure what to even look for. You take a deep breath in. The place smells of books. The smell of ink and paper fills your nose. It’s a comforting smell. That's what you loved about the books in the bunker. It was one of the only places that didn’t smell sterile or full of chemicals. 

The place is dimly lit with orange lighting and dark wood bookshelves. It makes the whole place feel cosy. You walk over to one of the shelves running your fingers over the spines reading the names. There’s a sign at the top that reads ‘mystery’. You look for colours and names that stick out to you. You would buy the whole store if you could.

“What kind of things do you like?” Johnny asks. 

“I like fantasy, with worlds I can lose myself in. I like nature and exploration,” you say, pulling out a book and thumbing through its perfect, untouched pages. You don’t even realise Johnny has left your side until he comes back with a pile of books in his hands. 

“Got you some classics.” He shows you enthusiastically. You put the book in your hands back and take a look. The Lion and the Witch in the Wardrobe and Lord of The Rings. 

“There’s a lion in the wardrobe?” you ask, frowning at the book cover with some kids hugging a lion on it. 

“There’s a whole world in the wardrobe,” he winks. You smile nodding at him. You look back over to the shelf picking out a few more that seem interesting before going to pay. Johnny makes small talk with the man behind the counter. 

They talk so fast you almost can’t keep up with what they’re saying, their accents so thick it almost sounds like they’re speaking another language. You listen on in awe offering to carry the bag as you leave. Johnny won’t have it though, acting like the bag is suddenly the heaviest thing on the planet. 

You let him carry it and cross the road over to the charity shop. He walks you through to the back where there is furniture, pillows and blankets. You spot a fluffy looking blanket with animals printed on it. You pick it up along with a white fluffy pillow.

“I have some blankets at home, ones my mum and gran made. I could find them when we get back if you want?” he asks. You turn to look at him. You still have the blankets from the journey over. 

“You don’t have to, they’re your blankets,” you say squeezing the pillow. 

“It’s fine, they’re begging to be used for something.” He smiles, and you nod at him smiling back. 

This time when you pay it's a woman, an older woman but you’re convinced Johnny will flirt with anyone. When you step back outside it’s darker and there are lights strung up in the street. The place looks even more picturesque than when you were driving out here. You can see that the tops of the lamp posts are covered in massive green leaves with red berries.

“It’s really pretty,” you say, smiling, looking up at the lights. 

“Yeah, almost Christmas,” John says as he walks you back towards the car. 

“I’ve heard about that. The professor would always bring me a gift.” 

“A good gift?” Johnny asks. You nod.

“It was usually a book, it was the only time he would ever be nice to me or give me gifts.” 

“Not even on your birthday?” Johnny asks, sounding shocked. 

“No, that was always an important busy day.” You sigh, swallowing the lump forming in your throat. 

“Why?” Johnny asks as you cross the road over to the carpark. You suddenly feel a chill. You don’t really want to talk about it. 

“Oh you know, lots of tests, lots of surgeries. It’s always the same, a long painful day.” You let out a sigh bringing your arms around your chest as you walk over to the car. Simon is already there putting bags into the boot. 

“Do you ever want to talk about it?” Johnny asks, stopping suddenly. You stop and turn to look at him. 

“What do you mean?” you ask frowning. He tips his head coming over to grab your hand.

“You know, about what you went through in the bunker,” he says. You shake your head.  Dr. Piper tried to get you to talk about it sometimes but you never really wanted to. She said now you were out of the bunker it would be good for you but you had no idea where to start. 

What would you even say? Would they even care?

“I don't know if I want to,” you say. He smiles at you squeezing your hand. 

“That's okay, but if you ever want to talk you know where we are,” he says walking back towards the car. You squeeze his hand back. This has been a good trip. 

“Got everything?” Simon asks as Johnny places the bags in the back next to the food Simon has. You can’t help sneaking a look. You love watching Kyle cook. Sometimes he lets you help, but you think he just likes the company more. You nod, smiling at Simon as he closes the door. 

“John!?” You hear someone shout. It makes the hair stand up on the back of your neck and you turn around with Johnny and Simon. 

“John MacTavish is that you?” the man asks as he walks towards you. Johnny steps forward. He’s big, old, with scruffy clothes and a bright green beanie and scarf.  

“Henry, what are you doing out this time of day?” Johnny says, opening his arms for the man. The smell of alcohol hits your nose, you can tell the man is unsteady on his feet. 

“Who are your friends?” he slurs, trying to force himself past Johnny who moves his body blocking him. You’re suddenly nervous and you reach out gripping Simon’s jacket. He turns to look down at you as Johnny tries his best to move the stranger away. 

“C’mon,” Simon encourages you, guiding you into the car. He’s projecting his scent; it makes your head spin as he opens the back door and you climb in. As soon as you’re sat down you turn to look out the back at Johnny who has his hand on the guy's shoulder smiling at him. 

“What books did you get?” Simon asks, pulling your attention to him and you turn watching him turn the engine on. Your mind goes blank. He turns to look at you.

“Books, yeah. The lion in the wardrobe,” you say but the name doesn’t sound right.

“ The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe ?” Simon asks. You nod. Johnny comes around the front of the car getting into the passenger seat. It makes you jump and you grip your seat-belt pulling it on. 

“Who’s your friend?” Simon asks Johnny. 

“Henry, local. You know the sort, kicked him out the pub for the landlady a few times.” Johnny shrugs. Simon hums as he drives the car out the car park. Johnny turns to look at you.

“Had a good trip?” He asks, smiling. 

“Yeah. I think I'm ready to make a nest,” you say smiling at him.

John’s laid up in the bed, the window open behind him. The cold breeze makes him shiver. The smell of vanilla and leather is almost completely gone now. All that fills the room now is the smell of the forest and the scent of Kyle’s beta.

Kyle pulls the duvet further over them, running his fingers across John’s chest under the bedding as they’re curled up next to each other. 

“She wants to forgive you,” Kyle says after a while. John turns to look at him. “She’s struggling without you. She thinks she can hide it but she can't.” 

“What do you mean?” John asks. Kyle sighs, moving his hand down to John’s stomach.

“She calls out for you in her sleep. I heard her talking to Johnny, she misses you. You claimed her, she’s your omega, that will never go away,” Kyle says, John sighs.

“I’m giving her space.” 

“She’s grieving but maybe some forced proximity would do you both some good.” 

“I don’t want to push her.” 

“It’s been almost a month. She needs you, and I know you need her.” John smiles at his words. 

“Don’t think you’re so subtle either, Cap. I see the way you act when she’s around or not around,” Kyle teases.

“Oh yeah,” John scoffs.

“Yeah, how you always sit so she’s in your peripheral. How your body language changes when she’s upset or happy. I bet you don’t even realise it,” Kyle explains chuckling.

“Maybe I’m getting soppy.” 

“You’ve always been soppy, sir,” Kyle says, propping himself up on his arm, running his hand down his abdomen. John smiles at him hearing the car pull back up outside the house. Kyle tenses propping himself up in bed. John puts his hand on Kyle's chest pushing him down. 

“Easy, take a nap. I’ll wake you up later,” John says, kissing his forehead. 

“She needs us,” Kyle says, sighing.

“She has Johnny and Simon. She'll be fine for a few hours. You need the rest,” John says, moving out of the bed to dress himself. He goes over to the window at the far end of the room. He can see Simon opening to boot to the car as you get out. 

You’re smiling as Johnny tells you something, his arm already finding its way round your waist. It warms John’s heart seeing you smile. It’s the first time he’s seen you smile in weeks.   

You walk in just as John is making his way down the stairs, your nostrils flare as the smell of leather fills your nose. Your eyes lock onto him, and a warmth builds deep in you. You’re just staring at him. He smiles at you.

“Price, a word?” Simon says as you blink swallowing the unbelievable amount of saliva that formed in your mouth. John nods, walking past you and following Simon into the kitchen. You can feel your cheeks burning as you take a step to the stairs. 

“Here, your books and blankets. I’ll put the ones we have in the living room,” Johnny says. You nod heading up the stairs. John's door is locked; you can’t help walking up to it and taking a deep breath in. You can smell the lingering scent of vanilla and leather. You close your eyes breathing it. 

It makes your head feel fuzzy, the burn in your core is almost an ache. You miss him. You want to be mad at him a little longer. Or maybe you don’t, maybe it’s time to move on. You turn walking into your room. You put the bags down going over to Piper’s scarf you have tied to the bed head. 

You run your fingers over it. You can barely smell her scent on it anymore. Maybe it really is time to move on. The burn in your core is replaced by a heavy feeling in your chest. 

You’re not quite ready yet.

Later after dinner when everyone has gone to their rooms you decide you want to build your nest. You sneak out of your room as soon as you hear the last door close. The only person who keeps their room door open is John. Maybe it’s a soldier thing, or maybe it’s an open invitation for you, whenever you’re ready. 

Either way there is no light coming out of the room. You try really hard to listen around. You can’t remember which floorboards creak and this house is old. You’re gripping blankets and pillows in your hands. You squeeze them against your chest as you slowly tip-toe down to the ground floor. All the lights are off and the building is dark.

When you make your way into the living room you see the pile of older looking blankets, on the ottoman exactly where you want to build your nest. You empty your arms onto the floor. You have to move the thing first. Luckily it’s on wheels and it’s not heavy. You pull it out of its place looking at the bare corner of the room.

You pick up the blankets off the ottoman. They’re thick and beautifully embroidered with flowers and animals. They had a musty smell to them but they smell homely. You put them down then sink to your knees reaching behind you to bring the rest of the blankets and pillows you bought around. 

You start to arrange things, the thick blankets first. The wooden floor is cold; you'll need a good bottom layer. You put the pillows down in the corner. It doesn’t feel right. It needs more. You’re already rearranging, spreading out the blankets more, fluffing the pillows even taking the extra ones from the sofa.

You feel like you’ve been working on it for ages, but each time you arrange it it still doesn’t feel right. It feels like an empty nest. Suddenly you’re distracted by a door opening. The door to the kitchen is open and you can see the rest of the lights come on.

You hold your breath craning your head to see into the kitchen. It's John he reaches up taking a glass out and you hear the sink. You look back at your nest, picking up another blanket and running your hand over it. You like the purple flowers on it. You hold it in your hand as you go over to the window above your nest.

You pull the curtain back and open the window. It’s cold, almost too cold. You can smell nature though letting the breeze make you shiver. You look out into the dark, closing your eyes and breathing it in. You can smell the woods, the damp ground, you can hear the lapping of the pond and the sound of creatures in the woods. 

“You okay?” The sudden noise makes you jump. You turn, seeing John standing in the doorway with a glass of water in his hand. You’re just staring at him squeezing the blanket in your hands like you’re clinging on to it for dear life. 

“I didn’t mean to scare you,” he says, holding his hand up. He looks down at the pile of blankets and pillows. He stands outside the door. He knows better than to come in while you’re making your nest. You can’t keep avoiding him. It's been weeks, longer, since you’ve really been around him. 

“You didn’t scare me,” you say, kneeling back down. His eyes follow you as you put the blanket down and pick up another pillow.

“It means you feel safe right?” he asks like he doesn’t know. You nod, pressing the pillows before turning to look up at him. 

“I thought if the weather was nice tomorrow we could all go see the loch?” he asks. You do want to see the loch. You haven’t really been in the mood to do much. 

“Yeah, that sounds like a good idea,” you say, running your hand over the fluffy blue blanket. It’s almost perfect. 

“You know if there is anything you need you just have to ask,” John says. You smile. You don’t know why you’re sick of people telling you that.

“I know, thank you,” you say looking up at him. There’s a burn there, a throb in your heart. You miss him. You miss him just holding you. You want him to hold you and tell you everything is going to be okay. 

It’s going to be okay. You have to believe that. 

John stands there in the doorway watching you as you mess with your nest. It’s not going to be perfect, not until you have something from each of your pack, just like the nest you left in the US. It makes you feel sick knowing that nest will have been destroyed.

John lets out a sigh and you look over at him. He smiles at you, keeping his distance. 

“It’s late, you should sleep soon,” he says. You nod looking out the window at the night sky. The sky is so clear and dark you can see constellations spread above you. You feel like you could fall asleep forever under those skies. 

“I will,” you say nodding at him. You watch him leave. He turns walking back through the kitchen. Your nest is as good as it’s going to get for now. You pick up one of the handmaid blankets pulling it over your shoulders before climbing into the nest. 

You feel safe here and as soon as you can make it smell of your pack it will be perfect. 

You close your eyes. You’ll make it perfect. 

..

You wake to Kyle standing over you, his hand pressing on your shoulder. He’s smiling with a cup of tea in his hands. You sit up wiping the drool off the side of your face. Your body is stiff, and your muscles feel heavy. You slept well, and you feel good. He hands you the cup of tea. 

“You made a nest,” he says, going to sit over on the sofa, picking up the remote and turning the TV on. You stand up wrapping the blanket around you and going to sit next to him. You take a sip of tea then put it down on the coffee table.   

“Yeah, it felt right.” You smile. He lays his arm round the back of the sofa. You look at him. His head turns to you as he takes a sip of the tea. You lean up against him, and his arm rests over your shoulder. 

“John thought we could take a trip to the loch today,” Kyle says. 

“Yeah, that would be nice. I would like to see it.” 

“We’ll take the car.” 

“I don’t mind walking,” you say looking up at him. He looks down at you and nods. You really don’t mind spending time in nature. Johnny walks into the room next with coffee in his hands. He looks over and sees the nest and smiles at you sitting down next to you. 

You sit there for a few minutes between them while you watch the news play on the TV. You look over at your nest. You do feel safe here, with all of them. Even John. 

“Would you two ever want to have sex with me?” you ask out of the blue before you can stop yourself. They both turn to you, looking between each other as they take in what you said. You regret it almost immediately, wishing you could take it back. 

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what came over me.” You lean up reaching over for your mug of tea. 

“Would you want to have sex with one of us?” Johnny asks. You turn to look at him. He’s giving you a choice. You never really thought you had one. They would all get a go eventually at least that is what you thought would happen. 

Would John share you around just like the Professor did?

“I wouldn’t mind,” you say feeling embarrassed, sipping your tea to try and hide the redness in your face. “I mean I’ve never had a choice.”

“What do you mean?” Kyle asks. 

“Professor Hale, he would invite his friends to be with me during my heats. Sometimes. It’s normal for an alpha to share their omega in a pack. At least that's what I was told.” You sigh, taking another sip of tea. Kyle's hand comes to rub the top of your back. 

“I’m so sorry,” Kyle says. 

“Why?” You frown at him. He looks over at Johnny, his mouth hanging open.

“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do,” Johnny says, his hand landing on your thigh and squeezing it. 

“What made you ask?” Kyle says his hand rubbing your back. 

“I don’t know.” That's a lie; you do. You let out a sigh. “I know you’re all together. I thought it was just normal pack behaviour, but then I remembered you’ve only been exposed to the chemical recently.” 

“It’s normal for packs to all be, together with each other?” Johnny asks.

“Dr. Piper would be better at explaining it but yeah, if the alpha was okay with it of course.” You hang your head still feeling embarrassed. You can’t even remember what the original question was. You finish your tea reaching over and putting it on the coffee table. 

“Do you want to talk to John about it?” 

“No. Just forget it,” you say. Johnny starts to talk but the door opens. Simon steps in.

“Price said it’s going to rain later. If we want to go to the loch it has to be soon.”  Simon's eyes crease as he looks around you all. You get up, he steps aside for you and you head up the stairs. When you get to your room you change into the fluffiest, comfiest clothes you can find. 

What if you’ve ruined it all now? You should have not said anything. Why did you even bring it up? Because you miss John? Now you’re being silly. You should just talk to him. You catch Piper's scarf out the corner of your eye. 

No, not yet. It just doesn’t feel right.

When you make it back down to the hall, Johnny and Kyle are already standing with their coats on. 

“You sure you want to walk lass?” Johnny asks. You frown at him.  

“I thought you said it was close.”

“It is but it’s cold today,” he says. 

“I like the cold.” You smile, zipping your coat up. Johnny grumbles. Simon and John come out of the kitchen. 

“Soap, you can drive there in case we get caught in the rain.” He throws keys at Johnny who catches it and his expression changes. He seems happy about that. You follow him out with Kyle whose hand finds yours leading you past the pond to a dirt path. 

The walk is shorter than you expected. You cut through some woodland then follow an unmarked road for the rest of the way. It’s gloomy, the sun hidden by the darkening clouds. There’s fields with sheep which have colourful spots on them. Kyle talks the whole way, about how nice it is to be back in the calm countryside, how you would love a bunch of cities he lists off. 

You hear John and Simon behind you the whole way. They talk too but you don’t listen, your focus only on Kyle and taking in the countryside. You squeeze his hand now and again so he knows you're listening. 

It is cold. You can see your breath again but you don’t care. The walk is nice and you’re excited to see the loch. It’s been on your mind ever since you got here. You would see it in your dreams or what you imagined it would look like. It always looked like the little lake John would take you to on the base. 

This is way bigger. You’re almost skipping as you can see it through the tree line. You spot Johnny leaning against the car as you walk around letting go of Kyle's hand and speeding your pace to get to the edge of the water. 

The loch is massive. It goes as far as you can see. It’s almost like an ocean. There are waves too lapping up on the stony shore. Johnny comes behind you as you bend down picking up an almost perfectly round stone.

“What do you think?” he asks, his arm wrapping around your shoulder. 

“It’s beautiful,” you smile. You throw the stone letting it splash in the water. 

“Watch this,” Kyle says, throwing a stone but instead of splashing it bounces across the water. You gasp. 

“How did you do that!?” you ask enthusiastically. He bends down picking up another stone and does the same thing. This time it travels further before plopping into the water.  

“Pff, he’s showing off, watch this,” Johnny says, his arm leaving you as he does the same but with 2 stones at the same time. 

“No fair you had all your life to practice,” Kyle huffs. You can’t help but laugh. You haven’t laughed in what feels like forever. It's not even that funny, it just feels right. The noise almost sounds wrong, but it feels good, you let yourself laugh.

“Teach me,” you say, bending down and picking up a stone. As you stand back up to look across the lake you see white blobs slowly falling down, they’re picked up by the breeze and swirl around in the air. Confused, you look up at the sky, the clouds are sheets of white gloomy and swollen. You look down at the stone in your hand, the fluffy white blobs falling on your hand and disappearing. 

It’s snow. You’ve never seen snow before. 

You look up at Kyle smiling, the tufts laying on his hair. Then you look up at Johnny. He has the biggest grin on his face you think you’ve ever seen. You turn back to look at Simon and John standing a few metres behind you. John is smiling, a cigar between his fingers. Simon’s standing with his hands in his pockets. 

You let out a breath clenching your fist around the stone in your palm. You walk over to them. Your heart is thumping in your chest as you listen to the satisfying crunch of stones under your feet. The snow is coming down faster now and thicker. Are you really ready to do this?

“Do you know how to do that?” you ask them, sticking your hand out with the stone still in your palm. They look between each other. 

“Skipping stones? Yeah,” Simon says. 

“Bet you couldn’t beat me!” Johnny calls from behind. Simon tips his head letting out a sigh, taking the stone out of your hand walking past you. You look up at John who takes the cigar out his mouth. You smile at him. You’re still standing there as you hear more stones splashing on the water. 

“Thank you,” you say, watching the snow fall on his hat. 

“You don’t have to thank me.” He smiles. 

“Yes I do.” You hang your head for a second feeling heat rush to your cheeks. You look back up at him and he’s still smiling. His expression is soft. You breathe in his scent letting out a long sigh. 

“Want to judge who wins?” he asks, nodding behind you looking over your shoulder. You nod, turning back to see the three of them with their backs to you both, hands filled with stones flicking them over the water one by one. 

John’s hand rests on the top of your back. Maybe it is time to move on.

Dividers by Plum98 & gild-ui Beta reader and editor - rememberwren

[hoe4hotchner]

I know you are probably so tired of this but I NEED more smoker Hotch, I do know why but the pure thought of Aaron Hotchner smoking just does something to me, I also wanted to say thank you so much for all that you do for the Aaron hotchner fan base and even the criminal minds fandom ❤️

Bad habits | [A.H]

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x gn!Reader | WC: 0.7k | CW: Smoking cigarettes

A/N: I'm never tired of getting requests (cause let's be honest smoker!hotch is too hot for his own good) Thank you so much for the kind words. It means a lot to hear. 💕💕💕

The first time you caught Aaron smoking, it was in his garage, out of all places. He leaned against the back wall, one foot propped up against the wall, a lit cigarette dangling between his fingers. The faint glow from the overhead bulb cast shadows across his face, highlighting the tension etched into his features.

For a moment, you just stood there, frozen in the doorway, watching. This was Aaron Hotchner, your steadfast, composed partner. The man who was usually all discipline, who carried the weight of the world on his shoulders without ever letting it show. And yet, here he was, indulging in what could only be described as a private ritual.

You crossed your arms and leaned against the doorframe, breaking the silence. “I didn’t take you for a smoker.”

Aaron turned his head slightly, his eyes meeting yours. His expression didn’t shift much, but you could tell you’d caught him off guard. The hand holding the cigarette hovered near his side like he wasn’t sure whether to hide it or finish it.

“It’s... occasional,” he said after a pause, his voice gravelly, almost sheepish. “Stress, mostly.”

You raised an eyebrow, stepping further into the garage. “Stress? Really? You expect me to believe this is a spur-of-the-moment thing?”

The faintest smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. “You think I have a habit?”

“Oh, I know you do,” you shot back, your tone teasing. “You’ve clearly done this before. What, do you sneak out here after bad cases? After long nights at work?” You'd meant it as a joke, but deep down, you knew that some of it probably held truth to it.

He exhaled a thin stream of smoke, the tendrils curling lazily. “Something like that.”

You moved closer, the faint scent of smoke mixed with the familiar aroma of the garage. It should’ve been off-putting, but there was something about the way the cigarette looked in his hand that made your pulse quicken.

“You know, it’s terrible for you,” you said, tilting your head as you studied him.

His lips quirked into a smile, closing his eyes for a split second, more amusement than apology. “So I’ve heard.”

For a moment, the two of you stood there in silence. You couldn’t stop watching him — the way his fingers held the cigarette, the way his jaw tightened as he brought it to his lips, and the way the soft glow of the embers lit his face up with each inhale.

It shouldn’t have been attractive. But it was.

“You’re staring,” Aaron said, breaking the spell.

You blinked, heat rushing to your cheeks. “Am not.”

“You are,” he replied. He held the cigarette out to you, his eyes studying your reaction. “Want to try?”

You frowned, narrowing your eyes. “Is this how you justify it? Getting me to join in so you feel less guilty?”

His smirk deepened, and for a moment, you saw a flicker of mischief in his gaze. “Maybe.”

Your lips twitched as you took the cigarette from his hand, your fingers brushing against his. The contact was brief but electric, and you had to steel yourself against the flutter it sent through your chest.

The cigarette felt foreign between your fingers, and you glanced at Aaron for guidance. He stepped closer, his presence steady and grounding.

“Breathe in slowly,” he murmured, his voice low and smooth. “Not too deep. It’ll burn if you’re not used to it.”

You followed his instructions, the taste sharp and smoky as it filled your lungs. It wasn’t pleasant — not really — but the way Aaron watched you, his gaze steady and just a little amused, made the moment strangely intimate.

When you exhaled, you handed the cigarette back to him, coughing slightly. “That’s disgusting.”

Aaron chuckled softly. “I didn’t say it was enjoyable.”

“Then why do it?” you asked, crossing your arms.

He took one last drag, his eyes distant for a moment before killing the cigarette in the ashtray on the table next to him. “Because sometimes,” he said, his voice quieter now, “it’s the only thing that helps.”

Your heart twisted at the admission. He didn’t have to say what it was — you knew fully well what he meant, and you admired him for taking on that burden.

You reached out, your fingers brushing against his hand. “You know you don’t have to carry everything alone, right?”

“I know.”

And maybe he did. But as he pulled you closer, wrapping his arms around you and pressing a kiss to your temple, you made a silent vow to remind him as often as he needed.

[hottiesforhockey]

ho, ho, hoe ⎜m.barzal

🎄pairings: mat barzal x afab!reader 🎄genre: romance ⎜christmas special ⎜smut ⎜friends to lovers⎜ 🎄warnings: mat is in love and not great at hiding it ⎜alcohol consumption ⎜ drunk sex ⎜missionary ⎜p in v⎜pretty vanilla overall ⎜ marking/hickeys⎜ just a dude in love ⎜awkward love confessions ⎜very minimal smut tbh ⎜ 🎄synopsis: an accidental christmas hook up, becomes so much more when your hoe of a best friend catches feelings. 🎄word count: 5.2k 🎄authors note:  this is my first of several christmas fics - there will not be a part 2 but I hope you all enjoy!! christmas fic list

(unedited)

“Come on, you promised,” Mat said, his voice teasing as he nudged you out of the car. “It’s one party. You’ll survive.”

You glared at him, tightening your coat against the icy December air. “You ambushed me. I never said yes.”

“Details.” His smirk deepened, and you hated how easily it chipped away at your resolve. “Besides, you’ve been sulking at home for two weeks. Consider this an intervention. No one should be this much of a Grinch in December.”

It was impossible to argue with Mat Barzal. You’d learned that years ago. He had a way of wrapping his words in charm and layering them with just enough humour to get his way. It didn’t help that his ridiculous good looks made you forget you were supposed to be mad at him.

Mat was your best friend—the kind of friend who’d been there through every bad breakup, every celebration, every boring Tuesday night when all you needed was a movie marathon and pizza. He was also, as you liked to call him, a professional-grade hoe. Always flirting, always texting someone new, always shamelessly charming his way into trouble.

So, of course, it was Mat who had dragged you to this Christmas party. And of course, he’d conveniently forgotten to mention that the guest list included a suspicious number of his teammates, their dates, and not many people you actually knew.

You tugged your itchy sweater down and shot him a glare. “If this is your idea of a fun Friday night, I’m starting to question our friendship.”

“You’ll thank me later.” He slung an arm over your shoulder, steering you toward the door. “Trust me, you’re gonna have a great time.”

What Mat didn’t say—and wouldn’t dare admit—was that he’d spent weeks working up the nerve to do this. To spend more time with you outside the cozy bubble of friendship. To finally figure out if the feelings he’d been burying for years were one-sided or if maybe, just maybe, you felt the same way.

But Mat was a coward when it came to you. A hoe, sure. But only because it was easier to flirt with strangers than risk what you had.

Inside, the party was in full swing. Twinkling lights strung across the room, the faint scent of pine and cider in the air, and a playlist that was just loud enough to drown out awkward small talk.

Mat stayed close, his hand brushing yours as you made your way through the crowd. He didn’t miss the way you wrinkled your nose at the chaos, and his grin softened. “Alright, Scrooge. Let’s get you a drink.”

You let him pull you toward the kitchen, rolling your eyes. “I don’t know why you’re so insistent on dragging me out like this. Don’t you have ten other girls you could be charming right now?”

His smirk faltered for just a moment, so brief you almost missed it. “Maybe I like spending time with you.”

The words hung between you, light but heavy, before he quickly added, “Besides, no one else would put up with your terrible attitude about Christmas.” You laughed, and Mat felt the tension ease, though the knot in his chest didn’t loosen. 

One day, he thought. 

One day he’d tell you the truth.

The kitchen was quieter than the rest of the party, the hum of conversation and Christmas music muffled by the thick walls. Mat handed you a cup of something that smelled strongly of peppermint schnapps and took a long sip of his own.

“This is terrible,” you said after a cautious taste, wrinkling your nose.

Mat grinned. “It’s festive.”

“It tastes like someone melted a candy cane into rubbing alcohol.”

“Exactly.” He raised his cup in a mock toast. “Happy holidays.”

You clinked cups with him, rolling your eyes. Typical Mat—always the life of the party, always ready with a sarcastic comment or a sly grin to keep you on your toes. You couldn’t help but smile as he leaned back against the counter, his dark hair slightly messy and his cheeks already flushed from the heat of the room.

“So,” he said, tilting his head toward you. “Having fun yet?”

“I’ll let you know when it starts.”

He laughed, the sound warm and familiar, and you couldn’t help but join in. It was easy to relax around Mat, even in a setting where you felt like a complete outsider.

As the night wore on, the two of you lingered in the kitchen, your drinks steadily disappearing. Mat’s stories became a little louder, his laugh a little freer, and you felt yourself loosening up too.

“Remember that time we tried to make cookies in my apartment?” he asked, his voice slightly slurred.

“How could I forget?” You grinned, leaning against the counter beside him. “You set the oven on fire.”

“It wasn’t a fire,” he protested, gesturing with his cup. “It was a… controlled open flame.”

“Your neighbours didn’t think so.”

“Yeah, well, they hated me anyway.” Mat chuckled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “But you stayed. Even when I ruined the cookies.”

“You had alcohol,” you said simply, and he laughed again, shaking his head.

“I mean it,” he said, his voice softening. “You’re always there for me. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

The sincerity in his tone caught you off guard, but before you could respond, he downed the rest of his drink and changed the subject.

“Okay, real talk,” he said, setting his empty cup on the counter. “What’s your deal with Christmas? Why do you hate it so much?”

“I don’t hate it,” you said defensively. “I just think it’s… overrated.”

“Overrated?” He looked at you like you’d just insulted his entire family. “You’re breaking my heart over here.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “It’s fine. It’s just not my thing.”

“Maybe you’ve been doing it wrong,” he said, his grin lopsided. “You should let me show you how it’s done.”

“And how’s that?”

“For starters…” He reached over, tugging gently at the sleeve of your overused christmas sweater. “This thing has got to go. You look like a rejected elf.”

“Excuse me?” You stared at him, mock-offended, and he burst out laughing.

“I’m kidding! Mostly.” He leaned closer, his voice dropping slightly. “You’re the only person I know who can make something that ugly look good.”

The comment sent a flutter through your chest, but you brushed it off as just another one of Mat’s usual flirtatious remarks. He was always saying things like that—half-joking, half-serious—and you’d learned not to read too much into them.

Still, as the drinks kept flowing and the night wore on, Mat’s comments started to feel… different. Softer. More pointed.

“You know,” he said at one point, “sometimes I think you don’t see yourself the way everyone else does.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

He shrugged, his gaze fixed on his cup. “Just that you’re… you know. Amazing. Like, actually amazing. And you don’t even realise it.”

You laughed nervously, unsure how to respond. “Okay, you’re definitely drunk.”

“Tipsy, maybe,” he admitted, a crooked grin on his face. “But that doesn’t mean I’m wrong.” Before you could press him further, someone burst into the kitchen, dragging Mat into a conversation about hockey and leaving you standing there, your mind buzzing as much from his words as from the alcohol.

As the night wound down, you found yourself back where you started—leaning against the counter, your cup nearly empty, with Mat by your side. The party had thinned out, voices from the living room fading into a low hum. 

He was quieter now, his usual spark mellowed by the weight of the night and whatever thoughts had been lingering behind his lopsided smile.

“You’re staring,” you teased, breaking the silence.

“Am I?” His lips quirked up, but he didn’t look away. “Maybe I’ve just got a lot to think about.”

“You need a brain for that” You hoped your voice sounded steadier than you felt.

He hesitated, his fingers tapping rhythmically against the countertop. “Like how you’re still here,” he said finally. “When you could’ve bailed hours ago. But you didn’t.”

“Maybe I’m a sucker for bad holiday parties,” you joked, but the warmth in his gaze made your chest tighten.

“Or maybe,” he said, stepping just a little closer, “you like spending time with me as much as I like spending time with you.”

It was the kind of thing he’d say all the time, casual and easy, except now there was something behind it. Something that made the air between you feel heavier. Charged.

Maybe it was the alcohol? 

Or maybe it was something you had been feeling all night - a shift. 

“Mat,” you began, but the words caught in your throat when his hand brushed against yours, tentative and testing.

“Tell me to stop,” he murmured, his voice low and serious now. “And I will.”

You didn’t. 

You couldn’t.

 Instead, you closed the space between you, your fingers curling around the front of his shirt to pull him down into a kiss. It wasn’t careful or calculated—just instinct, like you’d been waiting for this moment longer than you cared to admit.

His arms slid around your waist, pulling you closer as the kiss deepened, and for once, the rest of the world didn’t matter. Not the bad music, not the overplayed holiday cheer, not even the fact that anyone could walk in at any second.

“Guess the party’s starting now,” he said breathlessly when you finally broke apart, his forehead resting against yours.

“Shut up,” you muttered, laughing as you pulled him back in.

Mat’s laugh rumbled softly against your lips before his hands shifted at your waist, pulling you even closer. The kiss slowed, turning into something softer, sweeter, but no less intense. His fingers traced light patterns along the curve of your back, and you found yourself melting into his touch, the rest of the room falling away entirely.

When the sound of voices drifted closer—someone coming down the hallway, loud and unsteady—you both broke apart, the spell momentarily shattered. Mat took a step back, his eyes lingering on yours, a sheepish grin playing on his lips.

“Guess we’ve got an audience incoming,” he said, nodding toward the approaching voices.

“Probably shouldn’t give them a show,” you replied, your cheeks burning. Your hands dropping to straighten out your sweater, your cheeks burning a bright red as you turn away from your friend - taking a few sobering breaths. You turn back to Mat slowly, your eyebrows lifting as you find him already staring at your, his cheeks burning as much as yours. 

“I don’t think I’m finished with tonight.” He says slowly - adding, “but I’m definitely done with this party.” His Adams apple bobbing as he watches your mind turn a hundred miles an hour. 

“Oh, well there’s a bar down the street thats usually open late.” You note, Mat’s brows furrowing as he shakes his head. 

“That’s not—,” Mat lets out a soft sigh, his smile soft on his face as he spits out, “I’m trying to ask you to come home with me.” 

The words hung in the air between you, heavy and electric, like a string pulled taut. You blinked, unsure if you’d heard him correctly, or if the adrenaline coursing through your veins was playing tricks on you.

“Home,” you repeated slowly, testing the word on your tongue. Your voice came out softer than you intended, barely audible over the distant thrum of the party.

Mat nodded, his gaze steady but vulnerable, like he was bracing himself for the answer. “Yeah. With me.”

Your heart hammered in your chest, each beat reverberating in your ears. The room around you blurred—the noise, the decorations, the faint smell of spiked cider—and all you could focus on was the way his thumb brushed against his palm, the slight twitch of his jaw as he waited.

This wasn’t like him. Mat, the always-casual, too-cool-to-be-flustered Mat, was standing in front of you looking like his world might tilt depending on your response.

You took a breath, your pulse skipping as you leaned in just enough that your words were for him alone. “Okay,” you whispered, the weight of the decision melting into something exhilarating as you saw his grin break through.

“Yeah?” he asked, voice quieter now, carrying an edge of disbelief, like he couldn’t quite believe his luck.

You nodded, a small smile playing on your lips. “Yeah.”

His hand found yours again, this time with more certainty, fingers lacing through yours as he gave a gentle tug. “Let’s get out of here before someone stops us.”

You followed without hesitation, weaving through the scattered crowd, ignoring the knowing glances and side comments. The cool night air hit your face the moment you stepped outside, sharp and refreshing compared to the stuffy warmth of the party. Mat didn’t let go of your hand, his thumb brushing over your knuckles in a way that sent shivers down your spine.

And as he led you down the street, your hand still in his, you felt something settle in you, a kind of rightness you hadn’t expected and couldn’t deny.

The walk to Mat's place was quiet but charged, every step a wordless conversation. The city hummed around you—car engines purring in the distance, the occasional laughter spilling from a bar’s open door—but it all felt like background noise. The real energy was in the small, subtle touches: the way his fingers tightened around yours when your hands brushed, or the way he glanced at you when he thought you wouldn’t notice.

When you reached his building, Mat paused at the door, his free hand fishing out his keys. He hesitated, looking at you with a crooked smile, his breath visible in the cool air. “Last chance to back out,” he teased, but there was an edge of seriousness in his tone.

You rolled your eyes playfully, though your heart skipped. “Mat, if you don’t open that door in the next five seconds…”

His laugh was soft, barely louder than the jingle of the keys as he unlocked the door. “Alright, alright,” he said, pushing it open and holding it for you. “Come on in.”

The warmth of the lobby hit you immediately, a stark contrast to the chill outside. The building smelled faintly of pine—probably some festive candle someone had left at the front desk—and you followed him to the elevator, the silence between you comfortable now.

Inside the elevator, the closeness felt different. More intimate. The quiet hum of the machinery filled the space, but all you could hear was the sound of your own heartbeat. You caught Mat glancing at you out of the corner of his eye, his lips twitching like he wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words. Instead, his thumb resumed its soft pattern against your hand, grounding you.

When the doors slid open, Mat led you down the hallway to his apartment. The tension built with each step, your stomach doing little flips as you reached his door. He unlocked it smoothly, gesturing for you to step inside first.

His place was exactly what you’d imagined—warm, lived-in, and distinctly him. The couch had a throw blanket draped messily over one arm, and a few mismatched mugs were scattered on the coffee table. String lights twinkled softly along the windows, their golden glow casting cozy shadows across the room.

“Sorry about the mess,” he said, scratching the back of his neck as he shut the door behind you.

“It’s not messy,” you replied, taking it all in. It was charming, actually, and it felt... safe. “It’s nice.”

Mat exhaled a laugh, his shoulders relaxing a bit as he stepped closer, the space between you narrowing again. He reached out tentatively, his hand brushing your arm before sliding down to your hand.

“Still sure?” he asked, his voice quieter now, laced with something vulnerable.

You nodded, your fingers curling around his. “Still sure.”

That was all he needed. Mat pulled you in gently, his other hand finding your waist as his lips met yours. This time, there was no hesitation—no second-guessing. It was slower than before, but somehow even more consuming, like he was trying to memorise the feel of you, the way you fit against him.

One of mats hands reach up, tugging slowly on your hair scrunchie pulling it from the bun, letting your hair fall loose, his fingers playing with the strands as he leads you to his bedroom, his mouth never leaving yours as your arms loop around his neck. Mat’s lips make his way down your neck - pressing soft kisses as he tugs on the hem of your sweater, his lips only leaving your skin as he pulls the thick fabric over your head, his eyes immediately dropping down to your bra. 

“I’m about to fucking combust.” Mat groans, the two of you falling onto his mattress, your head buried among the pillows as Mat sits up on his knees, taking in the sight of you as he rips his own soft hoodie over his head, his hands reaching out for the button on your jeans. 

“God, you’re stunning.” Mat coos, as he slides your jeans down your legs, throwing them off to the side as he smoothes his hands down your body, his hands stopping at your knees as he pushes them apart, his body slotting slowly between them as he leans down to reattach his lips to your jaw - sucking harshly against the soft skin, a soft whine escaping you the blood rushing to the surface as an obvious bruise starts to form. 

“Perfect.” He whispers, against your neck as he picks a new spot and sucks again. 

“Mat.” You hiss, as his hand slowly dips in the waistband of your underwear, gently teasing your clit, his teeth skimming the skin on your neck as he pulls away. “If you don’t put your dick in me right now I swear to god.” You continue, your nails digging into his shoulders as he dips an experimental finger inside of you. 

Mat doesn’t need to be told twice as he makes quick work of his own pants, his cock painfully hard as it leaks with premium - his body leaning over your as he rifles through his bed side table. “Wrap it before you tap it.” He jokes, your hands pulling your own underwear down your legs, throwing them off to the side as you take in Mat. 

“Don’t ruin the moment.” You sigh, but your smile betrays your serious tone. You always knew the hockey player had a good body - his fitness levels beyond the average person, but seeing his stone cut figure was about to make you drool - your hands reaching out for him as he rolls the condom on his dick. 

“Tell me if you need me to stop.” He whispers as he crawls back on top of you, his body slipping perfectly between your legs, his lips pressing a soft kiss against your cheek as he lines himself up. His head dropping into the crook of your neck as he pushes in, his movements slow and purposeful as he lets you adjust with each inch. “Is this okay?” He whispers into your hair, his hips moving excruciatingly slow as he pumps himself in and out. 

He smiles as you nod, your lip trapped between your teeth as you let out a soft whimper, his hands placed on either side of your head as his movements speed up a little. “My pretty little pillow princess.” Mat coos, his fingers playing with the ends of your hair as the sound of skin on skin fills the room. 

“Fuck Mat.” You hiss as his pelvis brushes against yours, your cunt clenching around him - his hips stuttering as he lets out a low groan. 

“I’m close.” He hisses, your head nodding in agreement as your nails drag up his back tangling in soft hair, tugging lightly. 

“I need more.” You breath out, Mat eye brows furrowing as he lifts himself up slightly,  lifting a hand off the mattress, his fingers dipping between your body as he teases your clit softly. 

“Shit.” He grunt as you squeeze around him again, his orgasm being pulled from him as he bottoms out inside of you, his fingers still working on your clit until he feels you clench tighter around him, a long whine escaping you as you cum. Mat’s body falls against yours, the two of your breathing heavily as your fingers continue to scrape against his scalp, a please sigh leaving him as his body melts on top of yours. 

“Mat, I need to go to the bathroom.” You mumble, your eyes almost forcing themself closed as the heat radiating from your best friend tries to lull you to sleep. Mat lets out a grunt, lifting himself up just enough to capture your lips with his, his mouth spreading into a wide grin as he rolls off of you, discarding the condom as he lies on his back. 

“There should be your favourite stuff under the counter if you need it.” He says softly, his eyes already closing, “Come back to me quickly.” He adds, his arm thrown over his eye as his breathing evens out. 

You watch him for a few moments before dashing into his bathroom, facing the mirror as you take in your nest of hair and your flushed cheeks. “What the fuck did I do?” You sneer at your reflection, the bright red bruises on your neck sticking out like a sore thumb. You turn on the tap, using the cold water against your face before cleaning yourself up as quickly as possible, your frown deepening as you step out of the bathroom, Mat fast asleep in the bed, his body turned towards the empty space besides him. 

“I’m sorry.” You whisper as you make your way over to the bed, leaning down and pressing a soft kiss against his temple before pulling your clothes back on as escaping your best friends house. 

+

+

Three days passed quickly - your phone constantly dinging with a barrage of messages from Mat. You couldn’t bring yourself to respond. Your phone sat face down on the counter, Mat's unread messages and missed calls an ever-growing weight on your chest. You didn’t know what to say to him. You didn’t know how to face him after what had happened.

Every time you closed your eyes, you could feel his hands on you, his lips against yours. The memory of his soft laugh, the way he had asked you to come back to him—it all made your heart ache. 

You fucked your best friend. 

And then you ditched. 

What if this ruined everything? 

What if he regretted it? 

You finally pick up your phone, glaring down at the messages waiting for you;

Matty ♥️: Hey, just wanted to check in, is everything okay? 

Matty ♥️:  I know this might’ve made things awkward but maybe we should meet up and talk? 

Matty ♥️:  I know you’re reading these, please answer me. 

Matty ♥️:  I miss you. 

Fuck. 

+

+

Mat was - rightfully - going out of his mind.

 He hadn’t heard a word from you—no texts, no calls. You were ignoring him, and it was eating him alive. Every time his phone buzzed, he scrambled for it, only to find some pointless notification or a message from someone who wasn’t you.

He couldn't get the memory of your touch, your laugh, or the way you had whispered that quiet "I'm sorry" as you left his place. That had stuck with him, playing over and over in his head. 

What were you sorry for? 

Leaving? 

Crossing the line between friends? 

Or something more?

Matty ♥️: I miss you. 

His most recent text. He’d sent it hours ago. 

No response. 

Again.

“God, what did I do?” he muttered to himself, running a hand through his hair. You had been his best friend for years. He knew you inside out—or at least, he thought he did. But now, it was like there was this wall between you, and he hated it.

Mat stared at his phone, his leg bouncing with nervous energy. His apartment felt suffocating, every quiet moment filled with the phantom echoes of your laughter or the soft murmur of your voice. He could still see you everywhere—in the hoodie you had borrowed and never returned, in the stupid inside jokes you’d scribbled on his fridge, in the way his couch smelled faintly like your perfume.

The silence was driving him insane.

He stood up abruptly, pacing the length of the room. “Fuck it,” he muttered under his breath, grabbing his jacket off the back of a chair. He didn’t even hesitate as he shoved his keys into his pocket and stepped out the door.

The drive to your place was short but felt agonisingly long. His grip on the steering wheel was tight, his mind racing with every possibility. 

What if you didn’t want to see him? 

What if this was it? 

What if you hated him for what happened?

But he couldn’t sit around wondering anymore. 

He needed to see you, to talk to you, to fix this—whatever this was now.

When he finally pulled up outside your building, the glow of your apartment light felt like both a taunt and a lifeline. He killed the engine and sat there for a moment, his heart pounding so hard he could feel it in his throat.

What was he even going to say? Hey, sorry I ruined everything, but also, I think I might love you? That sounded pathetic, even in his head.

But before he could second-guess himself, he was out of the car and heading toward your door. His knuckles rapped against the wood before he even realised what he was doing.

Inside, you froze. The sound of his knock sent a jolt of electricity through you. You hadn’t expected him to come here—not after how you had ghosted him. Your stomach twisted with guilt and something you couldn’t quite name.

“Hey, it’s me,” his voice came through the door, quieter than you’d ever heard him sound. “I—I know I should’ve waited for you to reach out, but... I can’t. I need to talk to you.” Your heart clenched. Part of you wanted to pretend you weren’t home, to let the silence stretch on. But the other part—the part that missed him so much it hurt—had already pulled you to the door.

You hesitated, your hand hovering over the doorknob. “Mat...” you finally said, your voice barely above a whisper.

“I’ll leave if you want me to,” he said quickly, his words spilling out like a flood. “But please—just tell me what’s going on. I’m going crazy over here.”

You bit your lip, a lump rising in your throat. The wall you’d been trying so hard to build was crumbling, and you didn’t know how to stop it. Slowly, you unlocked the door and opened it, just enough to see him standing there, his expression a mix of hope and heartbreak.

The sight of him made your chest tighten. “Mat...” you said again, your voice trembling.

“I’m sorry,” he blurted out, taking a small step closer. “For whatever I did, for whatever I said that made you leave. But you—you can’t just disappear on me like this. I need to know if we’re okay.”

And there it was. The question you had been avoiding. The answer you weren’t sure you even had.

You looked up at him, your eyes meeting his, and for a moment, everything else fell away.

“Are we?” you asked softly, your voice breaking on the words.

His brow furrowed, his gaze searching yours. “I don’t know,” he admitted, his voice rough with emotion. “But I want us to be.”

And just like that, the ache in your chest spilled over, and the tears you’d been holding back finally came.

Mat’s expression softened immediately at the sight of your tears. His hand twitched like he wanted to reach for you, but he held back, unsure if you’d let him. Instead, he just stood there, the weight of your silence filling the small space between you.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, your voice cracking under the emotion. “I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t know how to...” You trailed off, shaking your head as more tears spilled down your cheeks.

“Hey,” he said softly, stepping closer, his hesitation melting away. “You don’t have to apologise. I just—I’ve been losing my mind not knowing what you’re thinking. If I pushed you too far, if I—”

“It’s not that,” you interrupted, your voice firm despite the tears. “It’s not you, Mat. It’s me. I... what if we made the wrong choice?”

That stopped him. His brows knit together as he studied you, his confusion clear. 

You sucked in a shaky breath, trying to gather your thoughts. “What if we ruined everything? What if things will never go back to how they were before? You’re my best friend, Mat, and I don’t—” Your voice broke again, and you bit your lip hard, willing yourself to keep it together.

His eyes widened slightly, something soft and vulnerable flickering across his face. “You think I don’t feel the same way?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

You stared at him, your heart pounding so loudly you were sure he could hear it. “I don’t know,” you admitted, the words barely audible. “I don’t know what to think. I just know I can’t lose you.”

He let out a breath, running a hand through his hair as his gaze dropped to the floor. “You’re not gonna lose me,” he said finally, his voice steady but thick with emotion. “But, God, you’ve got to stop running away from me. From this.”

“I don’t know how,” you confessed, your voice trembling.

He looked up at you then, his eyes filled with something that made your chest tighten. “Then talk to me.”

Before you could say anything, he closed the distance between you, his hands finding yours with a gentleness that made your breath hitch. He held them tightly, grounding you in the moment.

“I don’t regret what happened,” he said firmly, his eyes locking onto yours. “Not for a second. And if you think for one minute that I’d let that ruin what we have, then you don’t know me as well as you think.”

His words hit you like a wave, crashing over the fear and uncertainty that had been suffocating you. You searched his face, looking for any trace of doubt, but all you found was sincerity.

“I’ve been in love with you for years,” he admitted, his voice soft but unwavering. “But I’m not scared of ruining what we had because what if I want something more?” He pauses taking in a deep breath, “What if I want you?” 

The tears came faster now, but they felt different—lighter, freer. You didn’t know what to say, so you didn’t say anything. Instead, you did the only thing that felt right.

You stepped closer, your hands slipping from his to cup his face, and kissed him.

It wasn’t rushed or frantic like the first time. It was slow and tender, filled with everything you hadn’t been able to put into words.

When you finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, both of you breathing hard. “Don’t run away again,” he whispered, his voice shaky, “Please.” 

“I won’t,” you promised, your voice steady this time. “I won’t.”

[mehiwilldoitlater]

"Ready... to give up?!" His panting voice cracked his confident Facade.

You didn't need to answer, only cleaning your cheeks from the dust, Take your training rod and rise up again. You preferred to be beaten than admit defeat.

Yuán Fèn's younger siblings couldn't decide if they felt excitement about the match or guilty about making you both fight... Well, it wasn't like you two were really fighting, but now neither of the two of you wanted to back down...

Everything started so many hours ago...

When the two of you weren't training, Yuán Fèn's duty around the Mountain was quite simple: training the youngest monkey. You had the chance to observe him, and what you learned was that he was quite good at it! He was patient and understanding with those who found some difficulty in mastering a few techniques, yet severe and authoritarian with the ones that crossed the line far too much.

That day, on the other hand, was quite an event for his young disciples! It was the day of your first fighting lesson!

You, on your side, were nervous. For them The first time, you would have held a staff and learned the basics of Yuán Fèn fighting skills, a way to finally be more helpful in your mission, but the idea of not being even able to hold a simple wooden rod scared you. You gulped when a strong pat was given on your back; a chuckle escaped from him while you tried to fix your bandages on your hands.

"Nervous?"

"Yeah... a little..."

"You'll be great! I bet you'll be amazing!"

You smiled a little, yet still a little worried.

All those thoughts were put aside when you and Yuán Fèn faced each other while he showed you how a few stances needed to be done properly. Maybe, you thought, the standing in the actual scene helped you against your anxiety, and, all things considered, you weren't that bad at all! Even Yuán Fèn needed to admit you were a natural!

"This is a defensive stance. In case of danger, it will help you."

"Like this?" You mimicked his same pose. He loves a little of your arms, but besides that, he hasn't touched you at all.

"Good.... Good, very good! Let's try it. A few more stances, okay?"

You really were a natural one there. You were sucking in learning writings and reading the scrolls, always asking their meaning and all, but maybe your talent was fighting! The thought still made the monkey a little uneasy, but if it gave you confidence, then why stop you?

And you were getting confident!

"Come on, give me something REALLY hard!"

Ok, maybe too much. He did take your challenge to heart and decided to take the thing to another level...a small fighting session.

"Come on," he said, taking his position. "I thought you wanted something harder..."

"...ah!" You followed him, taking yours.

More than once, his staff hit your hand with the only intent of disarming you, and every time you had to message your hands and take back your weapon fast, even when he was clearly waiting for you to take it back.

More than once you were able to hit him at least once, but he was able to strike at least three more times. And every time he looked at you, waiting for you to give up.

He had cornered you many times, even when he was clearly telling you to take a look at your surroundings, only for you to hit your back against the wooden wall.

You were good, but he was better, and that...frustrated you.

Now there you were, your hands trembling from the many strikes, hickeys ready to form all over your body and your breath heavy. He was painting, but it was clear that he wasn't in as bad a shape as you.

"I... I won't... stand down..."

"You really should... with those hands too..."

You only grasped harder your hands on the rod, attacking again. Both of your staff crashed together, with his feet trying to not let him lose his balance.

You tried to put more force into it, using your body as a weight, but he quickly chose to move away and broke the stall. You tumbled around, falling badly on the dust, coughing and trying to get up as quickly as possible, only to find his staff again pointed at you.

"Okay...you've got some good moves, Y/n...but I'm still stronger here!"

You held your breath...then suddenly kicked his leg with your foot. The sudden attack made him tumble down, with you stopping him by climbing on him, sitting on his waist. Your rod is pointing at him, a satisfied grin on your face, feeling a small victory on you.

"And I'm smarter!"

You waited for another retort, only to meet a shocked face, with a small tint of red on his ears. Only then did you realize in what kind of position you were, especially when you felt his hands on your hips ...

A few seconds of silence, of pure nothing between the two of you... then he raised his hands like he had touched iron hot, and you jumped away, feeling your face melting by your heating.

"NICE FIGHT! GREAT LESSON! GOTTA GO!" You screamed while practically running away from the scene, while your poor monkey was there, on the ground, trying to make sense of everything.

He did the only thing he could do, putting himself in fetal position with his face in his hands, his tails frantically moving around. His siblings, slowly approaching him, decided to climb on him, chirping around and laughing a little.

"What a show, Brother! Such a show!"