#and then the few important ones do get to stay

[keirareidss]

not a burden - a.h

♡ summary: you think you're too much for aaron, he thinks you're perfect pairing: aaron hotchner x fem!reader warnings: hurt/comfort, angst kinda wc: 1.8k request here

Hotch never liked bringing work home. He avoided doing so if he could but sometimes, it was inevitable. It was Friday evening and, instead of staying cooped up at the office, he brought his files home. What he found when he got there, was you and his son at the coffee table, doing Jack's homework.

"Hi, honey." He murmurs as he bends down, wrapping an arm around your shoulders, his face in your hair.

"Hi, you're home early." You turned to look at him.

"I am, but I still have a few files to do." He held up the stack, showing you with a frown. You stuck out your bottom lip sympathetically before turning back to Jack.

"Jack, buddy, your dad's home." The little boy had barely even realized, so focused on his work, his tongue poking out from his lips as he scribbled the answers to his math problems. His head shot up when he registered your words, whipping around to find his dad behind the couch. He jumped into his arms, Aaron stumbling back a bit with a laugh as he caught the boy against his chest.

"Daddy! I'm almost done with my math."

"Really? All by yourself?"

"Uh huh!"

"I'm so proud of you." He sets Jack back down on the couch, dropping his files on the kitchen counter. You get up, following him to the kitchen.

"There's pasta in the fridge, I can heat it up for you."

"I've got it, don't worry." His voice is soft as he serves some of the pasta onto a plate, putting it in the microwave. He pulls you closer by the waist, slotting your body against his. "How's your day been?"

"Fine. You?" He chuckles at your modest answer.

"Alright. I missed you." He presses a kiss to your lips as the microwave beeps. He steps away, your warmth leaving him as he takes out his dinner. "I'm gonna head to my office for a bit, you and Jack can watch a movie when he finishes his homework if you want." He picks up his files in his other hand and you plant another kiss on his lips before letting him pass you and head to his office, pausing at the couch to give his son a kiss on the head.

You sighed, heading back to the sofa and plopping down next to the young boy.

"Alright buddy, what have we got left?"

You yawned, your head nodding forward for the third time as you struggled to keep your eyes on the television. Jack's head was on your shoulder, a bowl of popcorn in your lap that his small hand dipped into every few minutes.

You blinked your eyes open again, sighing as you carefully stood, letting the boy fall to the couch behind you as you set the bowl on the coffee table. You started off in search of your boyfriend. It'd been over an hour since he tucked himself away in his office. Jack had finished his homework and you let him pick a movie for the two of you.

The sounds of 'Spiderman' on the TV faded behind you as you knocked on the home office door. A faint 'come in' was heard in a tired, rumbly voice behind the wood and you twisted the handle, peeking inside.

"Hey, you finished with work? The movie's almost over and I think we're cuing up 'Finding Nemo' next. My choice."

"No, I'm not done yet." He murmurs, not looking up from the file in front of him, bottom lip tucked between his teeth.

"You sure you can't spare an hour or so with your son and your lovely girlfriend?" You asked, strolling behind his desk and bending down, wrapping your arms around his shoulders.

"I really can't, this are due soon, I need to finish them tonight."

"Aaron, come on." You purred, still in playful mode and you kissed his cheek.

"Honey-"

"I mean, seriously, one hour of your time. I'm sure your files can wait-"

"They really can't. These are important and I can't... indulge you right now." He snapped, shrugging you off of his shoulders. You straightened, the smile dropping from your face. "I'm sorry, could you just- I can't have any distractions." You sighed. He didn't even look at you.

"Of course." You mumbled, leaving his office, hesitating in the doorway and glancing back at him. He looked so focused it was as if you had never come in to distract him at all. Maybe he felt that as well, forgetting your interaction moments later. You quietly closed the door behind you, heading back to the living room to find the younger Hotchner asleep on the couch.

Your mind raced as you bent, scooping him into your arms. Aaron was probably right. You were just a distraction. His files were more important that your movie, and you knew that. Why did you think it was a good idea to go and bother him in the first place?

You set Jack in his bed, tucking him under the covers. You brushed a hand gently through his hair, smiling softly at his sleeping form. You placed a gentle kiss to his forehead before exiting his room. Back in the living room once more, you slumped onto the couch.

Maybe you should go talk to him. No, no, that's stupid. You didn't want to be more of a burden than you already were. Hotch was a busy man. You could see that. You shouldn't even be upset about this, this- this is nothing. You're fine. Right?

The door closed behind you and seconds later, Hotch's brain caught up with his mouth as he realized what he'd said to you. He lifted his head from his work, staring at the door as if that would somehow bring you back. He wanted to call out to you, drag you back to him so he could apologize but the words didn't come.

I can't indulge you right now? I can't have any distractions? What was he thinking? Was he really stupid enough to tell his girlfriend that his files are more important than her?

He pushed himself away from his desk, striding towards the door. He needed to make amends immediately. If he let this fester any longer you'd start spiraling in your head and heading down paths neither of you wanted you to be on.

He found you in the living room on the couch, your phone in your lap as you fired off a text to Garcia, confirming plans for the weekend. You'd met her through Hotch, the bubbly, colorful woman begging to meet you from the minute she found out you existed.

The team found out Hotch had a girlfriend when he left his phone face up on the table on the jet and went to the bathroom. Granted, there were signs before that, the hidden smiles at his phone, the constant calls around lunch time, the fact that he started being more lenient with time off and even going home early himself some nights.

"Hey, honey. Everything alright?" He approached cautiously, trying to gauge whether you were angry with him, or upset at his words. You lifted your head to look at him.

"Yeah, fine? Why?" He sat down next to you with a sigh.

"What I said earlier-"

"Oh, Aaron, it's fine, it's nothing. I'm fine."

"No- no it isn't fine. I didn't mean what I said, it was rude of me to dismiss you like that. I'm sorry."

"Really, you don't need to apologize." Aaron's eyebrows furrowed at your reaction to his apology.

"Why are you brushing this off?"

"I'm- I'm not-" You chuckled but it quickly turned into an unexpected sob where you quickly shut your mouth to stifle it. "I'm fine." You said clearing your throat. Aaron quickly shuffled closer to you, your knees brushing, his hands taking yours.

"Sweetheart, I'm really sorry. Please don't cry."

"I'm not-" You found hot tears forming behind your eyes out of nowhere. You sniffled, trying to recompose yourself. Hotch pulled you into his arms, holding you against his chest as he kissed your head and shushed you.

"It's alright. Tell me what's going on."

"I... I don't want to burden you, Aaron." He pulled back slightly, to look in your eyes.

"You are not a burden. Is that what you think?"

"I don't know, I guess..."

"Honey, you are not. Not at all... nowhere near a burden for me. I love you-" He stamped a kiss to your lips. "So much." Another kiss. "And you are so important to me," A third kiss to your pouty lips. "And I need you to know that you are not a- a strain or a bother, or anything like that. Okay?" You nodded as he gently cupped your face, wiping your teary cheeks with his thumb.

"Okay."

"Okay." He nods, pulling you back to his chest. You both lean back against the couch, your head on his chest, his arms around your shoulders. "Is Jack asleep?"

"Mhm." You hummed, cuddling further into him. "He's very good at math, did you know?"

"Yeah, he's always been good at that sort of thing." Aaron smiles proudly. "You know what you're good at?" He asks, and you aren't sure if it's rhetorical or if it's one of those times where he wants you to praise yourself because he thinks you're being too harsh on yourself.

"Um-"

"Everything." He says and you smile at his cheekiness.

"Thank you. You always know what to say to make me feel better." You tilted your head back, looking up at him.

"Of course. It's my job." He pressed a kiss to your nose, smiling down at you. "Is Finding Nemo still on the table?" He whispered and you let out a loud laugh before slapping a hand over your mouth, your eyes wide as you giggled quietly, hoping you hadn't woken the sleeping boy in the next room. "Shh, Jack's asleep." He chuckled, smiling like a teenage boy not wanting to be caught by your parents.

"Sorry, sorry." You said through breathy laughs. Soon enough, you'd forgotten all about your worries of being too much for your boyfriend and were too distracted by his cuddles and his corny wit to have anything but tears of laughter coming from your eyes.

And later than night, when he'd carried you to bed and held you tight to his chest, whispering sweet nothing's to you, you were absolutely sure that you were enough for this man.

Taglist: @cinnamoncunt, @dramioneforevertilltheend

[babyblankyerror]

I just realised with this prompt that Stanford would come back angry that Stanley started the portal claiming the world would be destroyed and all. Meanwhile, Stanley doesn't see anyone's numbers drop significantly so he's just staring at his brother like he is a little cray cray.

Stanley then considers something worse- Being alive and being controlled by that Bill Cipher monster, living but being a slave. Is that truly living?

Then, one night, he thinks he hears Mabel and Dipper argue before she rushes out.

For some reason everyone's numbers drop to a few days after that and he can't find the twins, being left to be dhelter to those who rush to him.

He knows the best chances of survival is to stay low but that's just for them, everyone else wouldn't make it... How long could they even stay low?

He knows the best way is to fight back but why would Stanley go against the numbers that kept him alive all that time?

He knows what he must do the moment he gets the idea and the twin's numbers go from a few minutes to years... he wonders if his own number dropped significantly but can't find himself to care.

The world was always more important than Stan Pines anyway.

Stanley Pines has been able to see a number above people's heads for a while. He knows no one can see it but lately the big difference between his own number and his twin's has been bothering him.

Every day the numbers go down and it only serves to feed his anxiety because Ford's numbers are shorter than his own...and so is everyone else's in the family.

Then he gets kicked out and his number drops to a significantly low.

It doesn't take much longer to realise what those numbers are and Stanley uses it to his advantage. Take one step to the right and it drops? Fine, left then. Going to a different state? Well the one he's banned from gives him a higher number so he'll just need a new ID.

A postcard arrives and he doesn't even check his number, he just rushes to his twin because his twin needs him. This time their numbers are the same but while Stanley's was incontinent, Stanford’s had been decreasing steadily like any other normal person who doesn't defy fate would..

Still, doesn't mean he likes to see those low numbers any better.

Then he accidentally pushes his own brother and he's floating towards the portal, his number rising significantly.

(Or: Stanley can see a death counter on everyone, getting pushed through the portal is what helped Ford survive longer from his fate :3 )

[woso-writing]

Little Bridesmaid

Bethany England x child!reader

"Are you sure she is going to be ok with it? I know I'm not her parent"

"Steph I am going to stop you right there, you are just as much a parent to Y/n as I am, you are the one who has been there since she was born, yes he may be her biological parent but you are her mamma"

"But I just don't want her to think that I'm taking you away or anything"

"She won't think that, she loves you, now come on we need to tell her at some point, I promise you it is going to go well, I know it"

"Ok then, here goes nothing"

The older women both then walk upstairs and into your bedroom where you are playing with your toys.

"Baby me and mamma need to talk to you quickly is that ok?" Beth says as her and steph sit down on your bed.

"Okay mummy, what is it?" You reply as you climb on your bed and sit inbetween them.

"Well you know the other night when you stayed at your auntie Martha's for the night, and me and mamma went out"

"Yeah, it was so much fun, Marty let me feed and walk Skye with her"

"That sounds so good baby, but on that night, I took your mamma out and I asked her a very important question, I asked her to marry me"

"What does that mean mamma?" You ask, turning to cuddle more into Steph.

"Well do you remember when we went to that big party a few years ago, for auntie Amy and Haz?"

"Yeah and they kissed, that was eww" You reply getting a laugh out of your parents.

"Well that is what is going to happen with us, and then after we can officially say that mamma is your parent, how does that sound baby?" Beth says, smiling at how close you were.

"But she already is my mamma isn't she?"

"Of course I am darling, but this just makes it even more official, so are you ok with this?"

"Of course I am mamma, now will you play with me?"

"Of course I will babygirl"

Steph moves off your bed and onto the floor with you and starts to play whatever it was you were playing before they came into your room and told you their news, Beth just takes in the scene in front of her.

"Mummy you have to play too"

"Yeah mummy, don't be boring" Steph teases too, taking any chance to gang up on Beth with you.

"Well actually I was wondering if anyone want to go to the park? We need to take Buddy out for a walk"

"I want to go to the park!" You practically shout, very excited.

"Right come on then, let's go get our shoes on and our coats and then we'll go"

"Ok, come on mamma" You say as you stand up and drag Steph downstairs to help you with your shoes.

You then all spend the rest of the day having some good family time, and once you've gone to bed and Beth and Steph are sat on the sofa, random tv show playing in the background.

"I told you she would love it" Beth says.

"I guess you did"

"I love watching you two together, you are so good with her and it makes me realise how much I love you more every time"

"Aww look at you being all soft, I love you too babe" Steph replies as she yawns, clearly trying to stay awake.

"Right by that, I think it is about time we go to bed, don't you"

"That sounds amazing"

They both go upstairs and get ready for bed before getting in and laying down, they both fall asleep pretty quickly. During the night, Steph feels something tapping against her arm, assuming it's just the dog nudging her for attention she doesn't think too much of it, until she hears a little voice.

"Mamma?"

"Oh hello baby, what's wrong? Have you been crying"

"I had a scary dream" You sob out.

"Ahh that's not good baby, don't cry it's ok, do you want to get in with me and mummy? Have a cuddle"

"Yes please"

"Ok come on then, try and get back to sleep, you're safe"

After that you fall back asleep, curled up in Steph's arms.

*Skip 10 months*

The day had finally came, your mums were getting married and you were very happy to be wearing the dress that matched with your auntie Emily and the other bridesmaids as your mummy kept saying.

"You look like a little princess today don't you"

"Auntie Emily!" You yell as you run over to where she just walked into the room, jumping into her arms "I missed you"

"I missed you too kiddo, how have you been?"

"Good, I've been practicing my football"

"Wow have you, you'll have to show me how good you are"

"Yeah"

After that your mamma comes over and gives Emily a kiss on the cheek.

"Hiya, you alright?"

"yeah all good, you ready?"

"Yeah, a little nervous but also can't wait if that makes sense, and there's one detail no one knows yet, not even Beth"

"And that is? If I am allowed to know"

"This little one is going to be walking down the aisle with me so she's there when it happens, we wanted her to be a part of it and I know it will mean more than anything to Beth"

"That is so cute, Beth is going to love it, right it's about time"

"Ok, come on then baby, can you hold my hand?"

"But mummy said I was walking with auntie Emily" You say, clearly confused.

"There's been a change in plan, I thought it would be nice if you were there with me and mummy"

"Yay ok" You say as you reach up to grab Steph's hand.

*Beth's pov*

I'm standing there when the bridesmaids start to walk down the aisle but when I can't see Y/n it does panic me a little bit, what if she got scared and I wasn't there as her mum to look after her. All my worry disappears however when I see Steph starting to walk towards me and I notice she has Y/n walking alongside her, smiling up at her mamma, it brings the feeling of tears pricking my eyes at the sight of the two most important people in my life getting along.

*Back to normal pov*

"Hello love, hiya babygirl" Beth says as you and Steph get up to where she is stood, the latter picking you up.

"Hi mummy, I walked with mamma"

"I saw, are you going to stay up here with us?"

"I think she is yeah, I thought it would be a nice surprise for you"

"It was a lovely surprise"

The wedding was beautiful, very intimate with your close friends and family. After the ceremony there is a lot of time where you are just in your mummy's arms as she says thank you to all the people who have come, your mamma standing next to you both.

"Mummy?"

"Yes baby"

"Can I have a cuddle with mamma for a bit?"

"Of course you can, come here darling" Your mamma answers, taking you in her own arms.

The rest of the evening you just run around, having been changed out of your dress due to both your mums knowing that you would end up wanting to run around and that you would be more comfortable.

"She isn't far from crashing, she'll be curled up in one of our laps before we know it" Beth comments.

"Bless her, she looked so cute earlier on though, somehow cuter than usual" Steph responds, looking at you dancing with Martha.

"I love you babe, you know the main thing I worried about when we started seeing each other was is she would like you and if you would like her, but seeing you two interact is probably the favourite part of my day." Beth admits.

"Of course I love her, she is the cutest girl ever, speaking of her crashing, here she comes." Steph points as Martha is walking over with you in her arms.

"Think you have quite the tired girl here" Martha comments as she goes to place you onto Beth's lap.

"No, mamma" You say quietly.

"Ok come here then babygirl" Steph says as she takes you from Martha's arms and you snuggle straight into her arms.

"Oh ok someone is definitely sleepy, did all the dancing tire you out?"

"Yeah, and chasing auntie Martha"

"Yeah she's not the only one who's tired" Martha chuckles as she sits down, having more of her drink.

It doesn't take long before Steph looks down and notices that you are fast asleep on her chest, Beth having got up a few minutes ago to go and thank people for coming who had to leave for whatever reason.

"Right I think it is time that we get this one to bed" Beth says as she walks over.

"Good plan, I can take her if you want to stay down here with everyone"

"No it's fine, I want to come up with you both, would rather be with you two anyway"

"You Bethany England are going soft, but ok come on lets go to bed"

Your mums say night to everyone and tell them they are welcome to stay for as long as they want before the three of you go upstairs - they had decided to have the reception at their house for this very reason - and Steph gets you changed carefully, trying not to wake you, before she tucks you into bed and kisses you on the forehead before leaving your room, turning the light off but leave the door slightly open, you didn't like it being completely dark in your room when you slept.

"She ok?" Beth says as Steph walks in, getting changed before getting in bed next to her wife.

"Yeah didn't even wake up, fast asleep, now stop worrying, can I have some time with my wife instead of our daughters mum"

"Of course you can, come here Mrs Williams-England"

"You can call me that more often" Steph smirks as she cuddles up next to Beth.

A/n: Enjoy, I actually low-key like this for once, I could've carried on but I feel like this is the right length.

[httpuckdrop]

ashes – day 217

series masterlist

big functions like there never really were your thing, but in these last few months, you'd come to learn something.

if it's for jack, you'll agree to do almost anything.

the team had thrown a party to mourn their elimination from the playoffs – or, celebrate a good season up until the last game, as jack preferred to say – and though you weren't fully comfortable attending, you'd been persuaded. honestly, saying no to him when he flashed those puppy eyes at you was near impossible.

it was better than you expected, really. seeing jack back with his teammates made your entire chest so warm; he loved them all just like he loved the sport he had the joy of spending his life around. obviously, you knew even before today how big a part of his life hockey was – you'd known him for over seven months, and he's never given you any hints that he'd be anything other than obsessed – but today, it felt different.

it was sweet, how important hockey was to him. but at the same time, something about it was frightening. cue the catastrophic thoughts.

what would happen if he one day got so badly injured that he couldn't play again? what if he got traded to another team across the country – or in another country altogether? what if the season suddenly got much busier, and he didn't have time for you anymore?

what if he woke up one day and lost his confidence? his spark? the part of him that lights up as soon as he laces up his skates? what would he do if he one day decided he was done with hockey?

could you handle an uncertain future such as this one?

you weren't supposed to be left alone long enough to let your mind spiral like this, but unfortunately, that's exactly what had happened. jack had run off to the bar to get you something non-alcoholic – you'd been offered a glass of champagne over two hours ago, though you'd barely even sipped on it, just not feeling the alcohol tonight – but jack had yet to come back.

25 minutes had passed, and while he hadn't disappeared per se, maybe it would've been better if he had disappeared, according to you. because seeing him across the room chatting to some blonde bimbo with far too perfect boobs wasn't even annoying; it was embarrassing, if anything. of course she's the type he would leave you for.

you were just thinking about the best way out when a hand landed on your shoulder. you held back from flinching, staying calm as you turned your head to the side to catch who had joined you.

"you doing good?" asked nico with a little smile. "you looked a little tense, all alone and-" he followed your gaze as it flickered back to jack. "oh."

"i think i'm heading out, actually," you politely smiled up at him, adjusting your grip on your purse. "but it's been good to see everyone again."

"you know that's mercer's girlfriend, right?" a look of confusion made its way to your face, before you realized that he was still looking across the room at jack. "she and jack went to secondary school together, i'm pretty sure."

you couldn't help the "oh" that escaped you at that. suddenly, you felt a little guilty. not that you'd instantly assumed that something was going on between the two of them, but something about seeing him so close to her still was a little painful.

"you know, the two of you truly seem good for each other." nico looked back down at you, hand still resting on your shoulder. "i've never seen him this smitten before, or heard him talk this much about someone. honestly, you could think he'd switch subjects sometime, but..."

you laughed softly, the sound light but not quite genuine. "that's sweet of him," you said, unsure where to look.

you knew it was meant as a compliment. nico was just being nice, offering reassurance. but instead of warming you, the words brought along some heaviness that settled right in your chest.

you should have been happy that jack talks about you; that he's smitten, that people notice. and yet, all you felt was pressure – like you'd been handed a script to follow, a role to play, and now everyone was watching to make sure you got your lines correct. everyone wanted to see if you could follow his lead and perform.

you didn't want to disappoint him. or nico, or his parents, or anyone else. least of all yourself. you didn't quite enjoy the version of yourself you became when put under this pressure; you never were one to assume the worst every time a boyfriend talked to another girl, but with jack, you never knew what you'd be feeling. exciting sometimes, sure, but also completely dreadful at times.

something about the expectations made it harder to breathe.

so you smiled one more time, calm and practiced, before walking off towards the entrance and stepping into the cool night, hoping it might clear your head.

the fresh air, and maybe more importantly the change of scenery, did help. silence always helped you sort your thoughts, and maybe you had been overreacting, to be honest.

however, you didn't get to enjoy this silence for long.

some guy, likely a guest of one of the staff members on the team, had stood a few feet away smoking. when he spotted you leaning against the wall, a little dazed from what had happened inside, he threw his cigarette away and made his way over. he called your name, which made you jump in surprise. "...yes?"

"that's your name, isn't it?" he asked, coming in far too close for someone you'd never met before. "it's a pretty name. i'm charles."

you nodded, taking a step back to extend the gap between you. "okay."

"i've seen you around," he slurred, almost tripping over his own feet as he tried to move closer again. "you're jack's... thing, right?"

thing. well, more accurate than 'girlfriend', maybe. "i guess you could say that."

"you know, you deserve better than that." he leaned against the wall now, arms crossing over his chest. "someone who'll actually treat you right."

"i'm not interested," you said, and you were just about to either run away or call for help, when you suddenly froze. his hand had made its way to your waist.

"i think you are," he drawled, tongue coming out to lick his lips as his gaze flickered up and down your body. "i know you're... special..." none of his words made their way to your mind, though, because you were far too focused on his hand trailing further down your body. as it reached the hem of your dress, you called yourself stupid over and over again for your choice of outfit for the day.

you weren't supposed to wear a dress this short; you'd bought an elegant white dress a few weeks ago because jack had told you to, in preparation for an event like this. not because he thought none of the dresses you already had were sufficient enough, but because he wanted you to treat yourself – with his card, naturally, as if spoiling you was some kind of hobby he'd taken up.

the only issue was that your period then ended up still not arriving a week after it should've, and you did not want to risk it reappearing when you were wearing a white dress.

therefore, you settled for an old black dress, one you'd forgotten how short it was until it was too late to change your mind. and here you are, regretting the choice more than anything.

thankfully, the door to the venue swung open before he could go too far, and someone made their way over.

jack didn't waste even a second before pulling the man away from you, pushing him up to the wall by his collar. "what were you doing with my girl?" he asked through gritted teeth, eyes so rough you wondered if looks could kill after all.

jack had a fair couple of inches on him, both in height and muscular width, and yet the other man didn't even flinch. he shot a sleazy grin up at the hockey player, shrugging his shoulders. "she was asking for it. dressed like tha-"

jack only needed one punch to wipe the smile off his lips. the sound of his knuckles connecting to the man's jaw was nasty enough to give you nightmares for months, but even as he fell to the ground from the sheer momentum of the hit, you didn't feel even a hint of sympathy. "leave."

and leave he did.

once the man had turned around the corner at the end of the block, jack let out a heavy sigh from next to you, before taking your hand and pulling you with him in the other direction. "wait-" you started as you stumbled along, trying to match his long strides with your shorter ones. "my coat is still in there-"

"we'll come back for it tomorrow."

you let him drag you along for a while, before you planted your heels into the ground beneath you and made jack stop with you. he blinked down at you, frustrated – no, furious – as he waited for you to speak. "you-" you shook your head. "you punched him. you said you don't do fights, you said..."

he'd promised that he wasn't one of those. he said he didn't fight on the ice, he said those boxing lessons he took when he was younger were all forgotten. that the anger he needed to let out as a kid was gone by now. how sure could you be that he hadn't lied?

if there was one thing you'd learned from all earlier relationships, and from the movies, and from your friends, it was this.

i can't be with someone who gets physical.

jack took a deep breath. "it was just an impulse," he said, using the last shred of calmness inside him. "i needed to get him to understand-"

finally, you snapped. "i don't need you to save me!"

he blinked down at you, completely dumbfounded, before raising his voice. "are you fucking insane? what the fuck?!" he raked his hands through his hair, pulling on the dark strands. "this guy was out here touching you, and- and you get mad at me? fucking bullshit."

jack had never sworn at you before. he rarely swore at all, to be fair; sometimes a happy 'hell yeah', or a 'fucking shit' when the devils lost that last playoff game. so to have him do it this much, and have the profanities be aimed towards you, stung far more than you'd expected.

"why the fuck are you still acting like you've got a foot out the door when it comes to our relationship?" he asked, hands dropping to his sides. "why are you looking for anything that's slightly imperfect just so you can use it to escape?"

"i'm not."

"you are," he insisted with a loud sigh, head tilting up to the sky. "here's the thing you're missing: things will go up and down. it won't always be perfect – no relationships are. but you have to work through hardships."

your lungs felt deprived of oxygen, like the air around you had grown so thick it was impossible to breathe.

"you're acting like one single misstep is going to make you leave. if i can't trust you to stay, then..."

he dragged a hand down his face, before looking back at you again.

"...then i don't know at all, to be honest."

[thatbuddie]

May i request kingdon for this prompt from the aus bc im a sucker for these 🫶 thank you!!!

we get seated next to each other on a delayed flight AU

“Do you…” Mel hesitates, not wanting to be rude. Her question floats in the air for a few seconds, unfinished but not entirely dead.

She bites her bottom lip, watching as the little boy holds one of his shoes over his head as the man tries to fasten his seatbelt over his tiny body while the toddler’s arms do their best at trying to strangle the life out of who Mel imagines must be the kids’s father. 

“Tanner, buddy,” the man on the seat next to her says as the boy on the aisle seat moves the shoe in the air while making airplane noises with his mouth, “I need you to stop moving for five seconds. You need to wear your seatbelt.”

For a glorious second, the boy —Tanner— stills. The man leans over him to close the clasp of his seatbelt. Everything seems to finally be going right. Which is, of course, when one of the toddler’s little arms moves and bumps into Tanner’s hand, making him drop his shoe to the floor.

“My plane!” He says, bending down to reach for it, bumping his forehead against the man’s. Tanner is completely unbothered by this, as he is now on his very important mission to retrieve his shoe slash plane from the space in front of his seat. 

The man, however, brings the palm of his hand up to his forehead as he straightens in his seat, his other arm staying wrapped around the toddler’s body. 

“Fu— Fudge me,” the man says, his palm moving in circles over the spot Tanner’s forehead must have hit him. 

The toddler —who Mel can now better see is a little girl— finds all of this hilarious and she begins giggling as she brings her hand up to rest against the back of the man’s, moving it in uncoordinated circles as if copying the man. 

“Thanks, Paige, you’re so sweet. What a princess, ” the man says, still obviously in pain but smiling down at the girl —Paige— as she grins toothily back at him. 

“Princess Paige,” the girl says, or well, Mel figures that’s what she says, as her enunciation of words is still not perfect. Mel doesn’t think there’s anything wrong with it, even though speech pathology and speech development are not her areas of expertise, it’s just that in Mel’s estimations the girl must be between 26 and 32 months which makes her pronunciation quite typical for toddlers her age. 

“Princess Paige,” the man says to her as he bounces her, which means either Mel interpreted Paige’s words correctly or her and the man just made the same mistake. Mel figures it must be the former option, as if he really is the kid’s father he probably has a lot of practice in deciphering her words. 

In the short amount of time between the head bump and Princess Paige’s coronation, Tanner must have grown tired of futilely reaching for his dropped shoe, because he is now brandishing his other sneaker in his hand, this time making different noises as he swings it around.

“Tanner,” the man groans. “Please, stop playing airplane for a second and let me fasten your seatbelt so this very real airplane can take off.”

“It’s a helicopter, Daddy,” Tanner says as he thrusts his shoe at him, almost hitting Paige on the nose with it. She must be really used to the shenanigans because she only blinks at him and repeats, “Helicopter!” enthusiastically back, albeit a lot less clearly than the older child. 

“Oh for the love of—”

“Do you need help?”

The question has escaped Mel’s lips before she is even aware she has asked it. 

She is not ready when the man’s eyes firmly settle on hers. They’re blue, so blue she feels a little bit dizzy as she looks into them, like she’s standing on the edge of a cliff and looking down at the water below, inviting and dangerous all at once. They’re beautiful and unsettling and wide and… Blue. So blue.

The man blinks. She blinks back. The man blinks again. She swallows. 

“Do you need help?” she asks again, even if just to break the weird silence that has settled between them.

“So I didn’t imagine you saying that,” the man says. 

She frowns and shakes her head. She didn’t think the bump of Tanner’s forehead against the man’s had been that forceful, but if he is wondering whether he is experiencing hallucinations maybe she should be more concerned that a possible concussion occurred.

“I just…” Again, she doesn’t want to be rude, so she is careful with the words she chooses. “I thought maybe I could do something to make things easier for you right now.”

The man’s mouth hangs halfway open as he looks at her, and there’s something Mel can’t read in his face that still overwhelms her. 

“You don’t have to—”

The man doesn’t let her finish her sentence and decidedly hands her the little girl. 

“Here you go,” he says after Mel has carefully wrapped her arm around the girl’s tiny body as she sits on Mel’s lap contently. “This is Paige.”

“Hi, Princess Paige,” Mel says, and Paige bounces on her lap as she turns her head to smile at Mel. Her chin has a cute little round dimple that Mel immediately bops. 

When she raises her eyes, the children's dad is staring at her intently again. As Mel’s eyes roam over his face, she notices a twin dimple on the man’s chin. His is more prominent and somehow just as adorable as his two year old daughter’s.

Shame that Mel can’t bop it in turn. 

The man shakes his head and turns towards his son, who has stopped flying his shoe around and is now looking in Mel’s direction. 

“And this is Tanner,” the man says, finally able to fasten the boy’s seatbelt. 

Tanner waves his shoe at her. “We’re on a plane.”

Mel laughs lightly and nods. “We are on a plane, yes.”

“I love planes,” Tanner says, extending the O in the world love for an entire second. 

“Oh, we know, buddy,” his dad says from his position bent down to the floor as he seems to search for Tanner’s dropped shoe. He makes a triumphant noise and moves to sit down properly on his seat again, Tanner’s show secured in one of his hands.

“What’s your name?” Tanner asks and Mel startles at the question, through she shouldn’t. 

“I’m Mel.” She extends her arm over the man’s seat to offer her hand out to Tanner, who giggles and shakes it with as much enthusiasm as she knew he would but a lot more strength than she expected. 

Mel feels a tug on one of her two braids, her attention pulled down towards Paige again. 

“Princess Mel,” Paige says, her hand fisted firmly around the end of Mel’s braid. 

“Oh wow,” Mel laughs, feeling her cheeks redden over such a small comment. “A princess? I’m not sure about that.”

Paige tugs on Mel’s braid again, but then quickly turns back to her father, reaching out with her free hand, saying, “Daddy, water.”

The man quickly hands her a purple sippy cup that Paige grabs by a handle. “Here you go.”

Content with her water and probably her whole entire toddler life, Paige reclines against Mel, resting head on Mel’s chest as she closes her eyes and sighs. 

“Oops,” the man says, appearing sheepish when Mel turns her head carefully as to not jostle Paige to look at him. “I might have trapped you in this position for the next 2 hours of this flight now.”

The idea should make Mel feel uncomfortable and protective of her space and time. Instead, she relaxes back into her seat, feeling Paige’s breaths deepen as she falls asleep.

“It’s alright,” she says. “I offered to help and I meant it.”

The man’s mouth hangs open once again, and though it is possible he has some sort of mouth breathing issue, she is starting to recognize something akin to surprise in the way he looks at her. Wonder, even. 

She likes it. She really likes it when he looks at her like this. 

“What’s your name?” she asks, echoing Tanner’s words from before. 

“Frank.”

They don’t shake hands. They just look at each other. She bites the inside of her cheek as Frank tilts his head to the side, his eyes never once moving away from hers.  

“So tell me, Mel.” The way he says her name makes her fingertips tingle and her breath catch in her throat. “What is bringing you to Pittsburgh?”

“It’s home.”

“Well, would you look at that,” he says, his smile growing, “It is home for us too.”

[geeinthejungle]

captain discipline.

Summary: In his first season as captain, Auston feels the pressure and goes to extreme measures to prove his dedication to the team’s success.

Warning: smut

masterlist

The post-All-Star break stretch is when the real season begins. It’s where the pressure tightens, the stakes sharpen, and the expectations skyrocket. Those from the team, the city, the fans, they all start to feel like gravity pressing on your chest.

But the weight Auston feels the most?

It’s the one he puts on himself.

Especially when he’s the face of the franchise.

Especially when he’s coming off the most goals in a single season in over three decades.

Especially when he’s wearing the “C” for the first time.

The boys had just landed back in Toronto, stiff-legged from flights and sore from minutes logged. Four games. Four wins. Nine days. On paper? A perfect road trip.

But they weren’t satisfied.

Not even close.

“We just have to keep our foot on the gas,” John says after practice, “we’re on a good little run here but we need to peak at the right time to make a run in the playoffs.”

Everyone nods, putting their stuff away. Auston suggested a team lunch to talk about everything and the mindset of the guys heading into the most important part of the year.

An hour later, most of the team was crammed around a long, wood-grain table in the private upstairs lounge at Baro. The lighting was low and golden, their plates stacked high with tacos and short ribs and truffle fries they swore they wouldn’t eat.

They talked over each other, laughing too loud, catching up like they hadn’t just shared hotel rooms, plane rides, and post-win card games for over a week.

“We need home ice. Period,” Willy says, mouth full of steak. “And I think it starts with the how we get along with each other. Off-ice chemistry fuels on-ice magic.”

Kniesy snorts, reaching over to pat Willy’s back like he’s proud of him. “Look at you, dropping wisdom like a TED Talk.”

“Quick math, man. Brotherhood equals banners,” Willy says, grinning. “Family meeting life updates, who wants to go first?”

Mitch raises his hand like he’s about to give a toast. “Steph and I are officially in baby countdown mode. Got a few weeks left.”

A round of cheers go up. Max bangs his fist on the table. “Uncle Buds Part Two!”

“I’m gonna buy the kid a drum set,” Bobby grins.

“You’re not allowed near children,” Morgan mutters. He then starts talking about how McCormick is in his mobile phase, crawling around everywhere and taking over the world. The men’s lives are changing—committed relationships, marriage, kids, the whole nine.

Mitch leans forward with a smirk. “Speaking of growth…our boy Tone finally caught feelings.”

Auston doesn’t even flinch. “I’m right here, man.”

“I know,” Mitch says. “That’s why it’s fun.”

Willy sighs dramatically, wiping a fake tear. “You were my ride-or-die. Now you’re just…domesticated.”

“I’m still your guy, Willy,” Auston mutters, reaching for his water.

“Yeah, but now you’re happy and moisturized and probably doing skincare together. It’s not the same.”

The captain shakes his head with a quiet laugh, like he can’t believe half the things that come out of this team’s mouth. He turns his attention to Johnny, who clears his throat and folds his napkin before resting his elbows on the table.

“Look,” John starts, calm and measured as he brings the attention back to hockey. “We’re in a good spot.”

A few guys nod, chewing or sipping from sweating pint glasses.

“But we’ve been in a good spot before,” he continues, eyes circling the room. “It’s not enough. Not if we’re serious about going the distance.”

Knies leans back in his chair, serious now. Auston stays quiet, listening. He’s never needed to be loudest in the room, his presence always seems to speak for itself.

“We’ve got talent. We’ve got chemistry,” John says. “But I think we need something more. Something to light a fire in the room. Every night. Something that sharpens the edge.”

Then Bobby, deadpans, “what...like a blood pact?”

Laughter breaks out, but Max claps once like he’s had a vision. “No. Better.”

He pauses for dramatic effect, eyes scanning the table. “No sex.”

Someone chokes on a sip of their drink. Kniesy starts coughing. Auston blinks slowly.

“What?” he says, squinting at Max like he might’ve misheard him.

Max leans forward, completely unbothered. “Think about it. We’re dialed in right now. Firing on all cylinders. Imagine if we added a vow of discipline to the mix. No distractions. No hookups. No girlfriends. No one-night stands. Just grit, testosterone, and playoff prep.”

Kniesy lets out a laugh and mutters, “You want us to do No Nut November...in March? For team bonding?”

Max shrugs. “Exactly. Makes it harder.”

He flashes a toothless grin. “Literally.”

The table groans. Mitch throws a tortilla chip at him.

“Absolutely not. Steph’s seven months pregnant,” Mitch says, shaking his head. “If I so much as breathe too close, we’re having an Aries.”

Willy lifts a hand like he’s surrendering. “Emotionally, I’m with you. Physically? I’ll die.”

Auston chuckles, shaking his head, but then Max turns to him, deadly serious.

“Unless you don’t think you can do it, Cap.”

The table quiets. All eyes turn to Auston.

He leans back in his chair slowly, mouth tugging into a smirk. “You’re calling me out?”

Max nods. “You’re the standard. Set the tone, Tone.”

Auston tips his head with a small laugh, thinking about it. “Fine. I can do it.”

Willy jumps in. “Prove it. Make it a challenge. Last man standing wins something.”

“What, like a trophy?” Auston asks, even more amused.

Max’s grin widens. “Vacation. All expenses paid. Winner gets Napa in the offseason. Wine. Sun. A full-body reset.”

“Spa package?” Bobby asks.

“If you want it.”

The room buzzes with chatter and mock arguments—some of the newer guys are trying to figure out if this is a joke, some veterans already started listing the reasons their partners will kill them.

Eventually, the list narrows.

The Pact Participants:

Auston

Max

Willy

Mitch (reluctantly, until Max reminds him the countdown clock is ticking)

Kniesy

Bobby (mostly in it for the Napa trip and the bragging rights)

Mo and Johnny are already out. “I have a wife,” John says, shaking his head. “And dignity.”

Everyone raises their glasses. Max lifts his sparkling water and says solemnly, “To strength. To sacrifice. To brotherhood. To...Captain Discipline.”

They clink.

Auston’s smirk fades as the clinking dies down. The laughter continues around him, but he’s already in his head—already thinking about you. The way you always wait up at his condo when he gets home after a long trip. The way you climb into his lap when he’s stressed and trace the 34 tattoo on his wrist.

You’ve never once held him back. Not with the captaincy. Not with the pressure. You’ve only ever kept him grounded.

And now he has to go home and explain that—for the sake of playoff performance and a trip to Napa—he’s entering celibacy boot camp with five other idiots.

He checks his phone to see how much time he has before he needs to break the news.

Across the table, Bobby is already texting Svet with a dramatic “it’s not you, it’s the team” apology.

You know something’s off the moment Auston walks through the door.

He’s sweet, touchy like always, he drops his overnight bag by the door and walks straight to you, pulling you into a hug so tight it knocks the breath out of you. His lips brush against yours with a softness that makes you melt. His hands slide up the back of your hoodie.

But there’s something in his energy. He's constantly adjusting the hat on his head and too casual in the way he drops onto the couch. You feel it in the pause before he speaks, in the way he leans into you without settling.

“So,” he says, voice a little too light, " we get to have a homestand for a little bit. Won on all four on the road. Willy wants to buy a karaoke machine for the plane now. Said it’ll ‘foster joy.’ Mitch seconded it. Kniesy tried to sing ‘Bleeding Love’ and scared half the team.”

You smile, letting your fingers trace over his thigh. He’s warm and real and smells exactly like you remember.

He seems happy. He looks relaxed. But it’s too polished. Too smooth. There’s an edge under the tenderness, like a string pulled tight that hasn’t quite snapped. But it's on the verge.

You glance up at him from your spot curled into his side.

“What’s going on with you?”

Auston meets your eyes for half a second, then looks away with a smile too measured to be real. “What do you mean?”

“I mean something’s off. Like you want to say something but don’t know how.” You sit up, turning to face him fully, your knee tucked under you on the couch. “Aus…talk to me. What is it?”

He lets out a long breath and tips his head back against the couch cushions like the ceiling might give him the words. Or the perfect answers. He stays like that for a moment, jaw clenched, and you reach out without thinking, threading your fingers through his, running your thumb gently across the top of his hand.

His whole body relaxes at your touch. But he still won’t look at you.

“Baby,” you murmur, voice soft. “Whatever it is…it cannot be that bad.”

You laugh a little, hoping to crack the tension. “Unless you gambled away your condo or joined a cult, just tell me.”

He turns to you then, eyes serious.

“Okay. First, I want to start by saying that I love you. Very much. Just want that on the record.”

You narrow your eyes. “I love you too. But you’re scaring me. What did you do?”

“It wasn’t my idea,” he blurts. “It was Max’s. And it’s a team thing. I swear. You don’t have to do anything. I just—”

“Auston,” you interrupt, “what are you talking about? What team thing?”

He exhales through his nose. His thumb brushes over your knuckles.

“We’re cutting out sex. And…anything that comes with it. For, um, bonding purposes.”

You stare at him.

“It’s called… No Nut March.”

You blink again. “No Nut…March?”

“Again, Max’s idea,” he says quickly. “We made a pact. Whoever lasts the longest wins a trip to Napa. Bobby added a spa day.”

You’re silent.

He watches you carefully. “So…you’re not mad?”

You lean back, folding your arms. “Oh honey. I’m furious.”

Auston winces.

“But,” you add, “you’re the captain. And it’d be a very bad look if you weren't the last man standing. So, I guess we’re doing it.”

His brow furrows. “Really?”

“Actually, we’re not doing it. We aren’t doing anything at all,” you correct with a saccharine smile. “For the foreseeable future.”

You watch the slight panic flicker in his eyes.

Because it’s not just about sex with you two. It never was.

Yes, Auston makes you come undone with barely a touch. Yes, he’s gorgeous and massive, in every way that matters. But what undid you from the beginning was how he treated you like an endangered species he was dedicating his life to protect. You weren’t just someone he wanted, but someone he cherished. How his hands knew your body, but his eyes saw your soul. How he could break you open with his mouth and then stitch you back together just by holding you after.

Intimacy with him wasn’t just physical. It was your language. The way he came home from practice and reached for you like gravity. The way you talked with your bodies when words felt too clumsy or heavy. The way he held you after losses. After wins. After nothing at all.

Those things not only made you closer physically but emotionally, you'd never felt more comfortable letting him see parts of you that you thought would never see the light of day. And it was the same for him. He just understood you, took care of you and both worshipped and respected your body in a way that could never be replicated.

And now he was shelving all of that. For the boys.

The betrayal isn’t logical, but it burns anyway.

You inhale deeply, then stand up, brushing your hands down your thighs.

“I hope you told them what they’re really playing for,” you say over your shoulder.

He blinks. “What?”

“Pride, wine, testosterone…” You glance back at him. “And the fact that if you lose, you’re not getting laid ever again.”

His jaw drops slightly, and you disappear into the kitchen, half-smiling, half-seething.

Behind you, Auston leans forward, head in his hands.

He has never felt more like a man on the brink.

And he has no idea how long he can actually do this.

On Day 2, the group chat explodes at 8:43 p.m.

📲Buds on Tour

Mitchy:

boys.

I’m out.

steph asked for a foot massage and started moaning

like moaning moaning

wtf was I supposed to do???

Kniesy:

you were supposed to keep your discipline, man

Mitchy:

she’s pregnant with my child!!

the hormones are out of control!!

I’m just a man!!

Willy:

L + ratio + baby daddy problems

you lasted 48 hours tops

Mo:

God help you in the delivery room

Johnny:

Respectfully bowing out was the right call

Auston rolls his eyes when he sees the messages, tossing his phone onto the couch beside him. You walk into the room with your hair wrapped up in a towel and raise an eyebrow.

“Did someone fold?”

“Mitchell did,” he says, rubbing his forehead. “Blamed Steph’s moaning.”

You snort. “Honestly? That’s valid.”

Kniesy and Bobby fall like dominoes on day four.

They're leaving the arena to pack for the upcoming five-day road trip when Knies, very seriously, announces:

“Look. I’m not trying to be a martyr. But I need to be sent off with love. And Bobby agrees.”

Bobby, zipping up his backpack to head home, nods solemnly. “She wore the grey sweatsuit. The cropped one. It's psychological warfare.

📲Buds on Tour

Knies:

Out. Needed to hit the road properly.

Bobby:

Ditto. Call it superstition.

Max:

YOU TWO ARE THE REASON WE DON’T HAVE BANNERS.

Johnny:

I’m not even in this and I’m disappointed.

The team loses the first three games of the trip. Everyone’s tight. Everyone’s chirping. The only silver lining is that the trip ends with a win—and the locker room celebrates like they clinched the division.

The mood lightens. But the bet doesn’t disappear.

If anything, it intensifies.

“Maybe we do need to be suffering,” Max mutters after the third loss, chucking his protein shake in the locker room. “Maybe that’s the energy we were missing.”

“Or maybe Bobby needs to stop playing DJ and let us warm up without hearing Taylor Swift,” Auston fires back.

“Watch your mouth, Captain,” Bobby grins. “You’re two losses away from being the next one out.”

It's day seven and the locker room is buzzing before morning skate. Auston walks in and finds half the team gathered around Willy, who’s sitting on the floor looking dazed and slightly ashamed. The second he enters, everyone turns to him like it’s breaking news.

“Willy’s out,” Max announces, arms crossed like he’s presiding over a tribunal.

Auston blinks. “What?”

“Forgot the bet was happening,” Knies adds. “Hooked up with some girl last night."

“I remembered after,” Willy mumbles. “In my defense, she looked like Bella Hadid and I had one beer.”

“You have the alcohol tolerance of a freshman in high school,” Mo reminds him.

“Exactly. I wasn’t in my right mind.”

📲Buds on Tour

Willy:

it was an accident

pls don’t roast me too hard

also does anyone know a girl named Sky or Skye or Skylar???

Mitchy:

SKYDIVED OUT OF THIS CHALLENGE

YOU WERE OUR LAST HOPE

Kniesy:

it’s all downhill from here Max and Big Tone

That afternoon, Auston finds Max waiting by the coffee machine, sipping his black cold brew like a man on a mission.

“So it’s just us now,” Max says without looking up.

Auston crosses his arms. “Yup.”

Max glances sideways. “You feelin’ it?”

Auston shrugs. “I’m good.”

“You sure?” Max tilts his head. “You looked a little twitchy during that postgame interview last night.”

“Wasn’t about the bet.”

“Mmhmm. It is day seven. Prime time for withdrawal symptoms.”

“I’m not like you, Max.”

“Oh, I know. You’re Captain Discipline.” Max flashes a grin. “Just don’t forget who coined the term.”

Despite himself, Auston cracks a smile.

Around them, the rest of the team watches the standoff like it’s the playoffs already. Bets are quietly being made. Bobby creates a tracker on the whiteboard, crossing off names dramatically with each new casualty. Knies draws cartoon tombstones with their names beside them.

By day 10, it’s reached a fever pitch.

📲Buds on Tour

Johnny:

boys. ten days. you’re either monks or insane.

Bobby:

Max is doing yoga. Auston won’t make eye contact with anyone. It’s getting dark.

Willy:

this was your idea

Max:

and I regret nothing

Auston:

just remember who you’ll be clapping for in Napa

Max is out two hours later.

Auston doesn’t say anything because winning didn’t feel like winning.

You assumed it would flip a switch. That once Max folded, Auston would relax. That the tension humming beneath his skin would finally give. But it doesn’t. If anything, he seems more wound up.

Still celibate. Still sharp-edged. Still pushing himself too hard.

And you see it.

You see it in the way he rubs at his back at night when he thinks you’re not looking.

In the winces he hides behind common day to day soreness.

In how he hasn’t shaved in days, eyes hollow from nights he lies awake thinking too much.

He’s not scoring like last year, not flying down the ice the same way, and he’s furious with his body for betraying him. He doesn't say it, but you know. The goals aren't coming easy. Sometimes they aren't coming at all. The pressure is louder. He’s playing hurt. And now he's got this weighty "C" sewn across his chest like it might split him open.

And still—he holds.

Because it’s never been about sex.

It’s about control. Purpose. Holding onto one thing when everything else feels like it’s slipping.

The almost breaking point comes on a Tuesday.

Late practice. Long media scrum. His phone hasn’t stopped vibrating since he left the rink—press, trainers, his agent. He comes through your door like he’s been running on adrenaline for a week straight. He drops his bag, doesn’t even take off his shoes before walking into your room and pulling you out of the book your were reading and into his lap.

No teasing. No foreplay.

Just his mouth on yours, a little bit of teeth and a lot of tongue.

His lips are urgent, searching. A rough kind of tenderness. His hand slides into your hair, the other pulling you flush against him like he needs to feel your heartbeat to remember he’s still here. It’s not about lust. It’s about relief. Like kissing you is the only way he’ll keep from unraveling.

You let him take what he needs. His tongue meets yours and it’s frantic, greedy. You straddle his lap and his hands are everywhere, your waist, your jaw, the back of your neck. He groans into your mouth when you tug on his shirt, when your fingers trace the line of his abs.

You can feel him hard under you.

And then—he stops.

Abruptly.

His hands fall away from your body like you burned him.

“Aus?”

He leans forward, breathing heavy. His chest rises and falls in short bursts as he squeezes his eyes shut, fists clenched.

You climb off his lap slowly. “Hey…hey, talk to me.”

He doesn't answer right away. Just stares down at his lap, jaw tight. He takes another deep breath.

“I don’t know what I’m doing.”

You sit cross-legged beside him, your hand resting gently on his thigh.

“I’m exhausted,” he admits, voice raw. “I’m trying so hard to be the leader they want. The player they need. The partner you deserve. I thought this stupid bet would help me prove I could handle it all. That I had the discipline to…compartmentalize. But it’s too much.”

You reach for his hand, threading your fingers through his. He lets you, giving your hand a squeeze.

“I feel like I’m failing. Like no matter how hard I push, it’s not enough. I’m not scoring like I should. I’m not moving like I’m used to. I'm supposed to be automatic and now—now I don't even know what I am.”

His eyes flick up to meet yours, pained and open.

“But then I’m with you, and for a few minutes, everything’s quiet. No fans. No cameras. No pressure. Just you. And I keep thinking…if I can have that, if I can have you and still stay focused, still show up the way I’m supposed to—then maybe I’m not falling apart.”

You brush a piece of hair off his forehead, kissing his cheek.

“You don’t have to prove anything to me,” you whisper. “You already show up. For the team, for the city…for me. Every damn day. You’re allowed to be overwhelmed. You’re allowed to lean on someone. That’s what love is.”

Auston lets out a shaky exhale, folding into your chest. You wrap your arms around his broad back, holding him close, feeling the weight he’s been carrying melt into your embrace.

And in that stillness, in that softness, you feel it.

The strength behind his restraint.

And the love behind his silence.

He cracks when you least expect it.

The team had flown home late the night before after a frustrating loss in Nashville. Auston had been quiet on the plane, headphones in, hoodie up, and you didn’t push him. You knew the loss was sitting heavy. He crawled into bed behind you when you were already half-asleep, kissed your shoulder once, and held you through the night without a word.

You wake up to an empty bed and the smell of something savory drifting up from the kitchen.

By the time you make it downstairs, sleep still in your eyes and his oversized shirt hanging off one shoulder, Auston is already sitting at the island, elbows on the counter, talking softly to his personal chef Chris, who’s finishing up his to-do list.

You pad over barefoot and lean into Auston’s side, pressing a kiss to the curve of his jaw. “Morning,” you murmur.

“Morning, baby,” he says, his voice still scratchy from sleep. You can feel his eyes on you as you move, like they’re tracing every inch of exposed skin.

“Do you need me to add anything to the list before you head out?” Chris asks. “Anything you’re running low on that I didn’t think of?”

You glance at his list and open the fridge, peering inside. “Cranberry juice. There’s like a sip left.”

He nods, grabbing his keys. “Got it. I’ll restock and let myself out.”

“Thanks,” you call, pouring the last of the juice and taking a slow sip as Chris leaves. You set the glass down and roll your neck, an audible crack breaking the silence. “God, that felt good.”

You stretch lazily, arms high over your head, the hem of his t-shirt lifting just enough to reveal a peek of skin at your waist.

And that does it.

You don’t see it, but you feel it—the shift in the air.

Auston exhales a quiet, “fuck it,” and before you can ask what he means, he’s already moving, standing up from the stool, crossing the room with purpose.

He picks you up like you weigh nothing, one arm under your thighs, the other around your back.

Your breath catches. “What is happening right now?”

He doesn’t break stride. “I’ve been disciplined for a really long time,” he mutters, already halfway up the stairs. “And I think I’m done.”

You don’t question it. You don’t want to.

Because his voice is low, controlled, but his grip on you is anything but. It’s needy. Desperate. Like he’s been thinking about this for weeks and finally let the dam break.

By the time you reach the bedroom, your heart is racing.

He sets you down in the middle of the bed and steps back just long enough to look at you. His eyes are dark, jaw tense, chest rising and falling like he’s been holding his breath for days.

You don’t say anything. You just reach for him.

He’s on you in an instant.

The first kiss is slow, but there’s weight behind it. Pressure. Intention. He kisses like he’s trying to memorize you all over again, like he’s making up for all that time.

“I need you,” he murmurs against your skin. “Not just this…you.”

Your fingers thread into his hair, tugging gently as he lowers you back onto the bed. “I’m right here,” you whisper.

He groans, low and rough in his throat, like he’s been trying not to say fuck for a month. He presses his body over yours, his hips between your thighs, the heat of him through his boxers making it almost unbearable.

You wrap your arms around his neck, anchoring him to you. He grinds against you once, slow and torturous, like he’s savoring every second.

And then he stops.

Pulls back just enough to rest his forehead against yours.

Takes several slow, controlled breaths.

You blink up at him, breathless. “Babe?”

He swallows hard. “Just—give me a second.”

You settle beside him as he rolls onto his back, arm flung over his eyes.

“I want you so bad I think I’m gonna explode,” he says, laughing softly but there’s no humor in it. “I didn’t realize how tightly I was holding everything in.”

You lay a hand on his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart beneath your palm. “You dont have to hold anything in anymore, Captain. Do whatever you want.”

His arm falls away from his face and he turns his head to look at you.

And when he kisses you again, it’s different.

Softer. Not slower, not weaker—but certain.

Like he’s choosing this. Choosing you.

He peels your shirt off with care, running his hands over your bare skin like it’s sacred, like he needs to relearn every part of you. His mouth follows his hands—along your shoulder, the swell of your breasts, your stomach—every inch savored.

By the time the condom is on and he’s inside you, it’s not about stress relief or easing the pressure. It’s about finally letting himself have the one thing he’s wanted more than anything—you. It’s about how lucky he feels just to be here, with you, touching you, loving you the way he’s been aching to for weeks. It’s about how holding back nearly broke him, and how having you now feels like every piece of the puzzle is being put back together, all at once.

When he bottoms out Auston’s breath catches. There’s no words, just a wrecked, shuddering moan that punches out of his chest. His face buries in your neck, his arms locked around your back like he needs you to keep him grounded. He doesn’t move at first. He can’t. You’re too warm, too soft, too perfect, and it takes everything in him not to break then and there. By the time he finally finds the strength to move, it’s cautious at first—measured, reverent—but his control is wearing thin. You feel the tremor in his body, the way he pants in your ear, completely undone. His rhythm stutters the moment you clench around him.

“F—fuck,” he gasps, voice hoarse, a whimper chasing the end of the word. “God, baby—”

You wrap your legs tighter around him and that’s all it takes. He thrusts harder, deeper, his hips moving with a kind of desperation, every slap of skin punctuated by broken, raw sounds from the back of his throat. Grunts, groans, even the occasional half-sob of relief—like he’s letting go of everything he’s been carrying and giving it to you.

“A—Aus—oh my god…”

Your voice wrecks him. He lets out another low, desperate groan as your body tightens around him, each choked sound from your lips spurring him further. His pace quickens, hips driving harder, but his eyes never leave yours.

His grip on you tightens as his thrusts grow sloppier, messier, the pent-up tension of weeks—months, even—pouring out of him. His face is flushed, brow damp, every muscle straining as he chases that edge with you wrapped around him.

The closer he gets to falling apart, the more erratic his thrusts become, his hips buck involuntarily, soft groans sounding out in your ear. The repetitive tap of his tip deep inside you has you nearly seeing stars; arching your back off the mattress as he caresses your skin, pushing in and out of you, a wave of electric arousal wafting throughout the room.

“Oh—fuck, I’m gonna—” he chokes out, barely able to finish before he’s coming, a broken string of curses falling from his lips as he buries himself inside you one last time. His hips jerk against yours as the loss of control overwhelms him completely.

He pulls out with a soft, broken whine—like the release took everything he had and left him with nothing but pure, molten bliss. His muscles twitch, his breath shallow and uneven, and for a long moment, he just lies there, forehead resting against your shoulder, trying to come back to earth.

His body sinks beside yours, boneless and spent, and for a few seconds, neither of you move. There’s only the sound of your breathing, tangled and uneven, and the way his hand slowly searches for yours in the sheets.

He finds it. Holds it. Kisses your knuckles with a satisfied smile.

After a while, he shifts just enough to kiss your collarbone—slow, tender, like he’s thanking you with his mouth. His lips linger there as he exhales shakily.

“I missed you,” he whispers, voice wrecked and raw.

You glance over at him. “You were only gone for like two days.”

He smiles faintly, eyes still closed. “No, I mean like this. Us. I missed feeling close to you. Missed being able to…breathe.”

His arm wraps around your waist, drawing you into his chest. He presses a few lazy kisses along your shoulder, like he can’t get enough of just having you near, skin to skin, heart to heart.

You whisper, “You okay?”

Auston doesn’t answer right away. He’s quiet—too quiet—and for a second, you think maybe he’s fallen asleep. But then he shifts just slightly, still clinging to you like his life depends on it.

“I didn’t know how much I needed this until now,” he says, barely audible. “Not just the sex. You. Touching you, being held by you. I feel like myself again. Like everything stopped spinning for a second.”

You curl a hand against his jaw and guide his face toward yours. His brown eyes are soft, glassy. Vulnerable.

“You don’t have to carry it all alone,” you whisper. “The pressure. The team. The weight of the city. You have me. You always have me. Plus carrying all that weight can’t be good for your back, it already hurts.”

He swallows thickly and nods, snorting out a small laugh, his bright eyes still locked on yours. Then, so softly it makes your chest ache, he says:

“I don’t want to be anything in this world if I’m not good to you.”

You kiss him before he can say anything else. Just a soft, lingering press of lips. He sighs against your mouth, arms tightening around your body as he pulls you impossibly close. He’s kissing you like he’s apologizing—for holding back, for the distance, for ever thinking discipline had to mean denying what makes him feel most alive.

“Can you just promise me one thing?” You ask him, pulling away for a second and he hums. “No more sex bets. Ever.”

Auston gives a faint chuckle, already nodding. “Yeah, no. Never again. I think I actually saw God for a second.”

“Was He proud of you for your discipline?” you tease, lips curling.

“I think He told me to stop being an idiot,” Auston replies with a dazed smile. “And to worship my girlfriend properly before she dumps me for depriving her.”

You laugh, closing your eyes. “Good thing you listened because I am not surviving another No Nut Anything. I will enjoy Napa though.”

He grins, kissing your forehead. You fall asleep tangled in each other, the bet behind you, the pressure lighter, the love unmistakably, fiercely still there.

[vivwritesfics]

No Need To Ask

Chapter Three

Neither of them want to get married. Its a marriage of convenience, not of love. They can find it in themselves to love each other, but life has other things in mind.

Mafia!Au

Chapter One Chapter Two

Her outfit has been chosen for her. Her hair and makeup had been done and Y/N was left waiting in her room. Any minute now, Lando would come and get her. And then they'd go downstairs and meet the man she'd be spending the rest of her life with.

She picked at the skin around her nails. The clock in her room was ticking, growing louder and louder and louder. Y/N stayed in front of her vanity while she waited, unmoving. Lit by nothing up lamplight, Y/N stared at her own reflection.

A knock at her bedroom door startled her out of her thoughts. She turned around as Lando walked in. "Ready?" He asked.

There were certain customs they had to honour. Without their father there, the Norris' had to do things a little bit differently. Instead of her father introducing her to the Sainz, it would be Lando. It would be Lando who would be signing the deals on her behalf, who worked with Sainz to set up the wedding.

Lando grabbed Y/N's arm and walked her out of her bedroom. "You okay?" He whispered as they walked through the halls.

Swallowing the lump in her throat Y/N nodded her head. She wasn't fine, but she was dealing with it. What could she do but deal with it?

Just the day before, she'd met Carlos down in her kitchen. She'd watched as her brother lost his shit, before she'd been sent back to her own bedroom. Carlos had been nice enough then, but, of course, Y/N hadn't known he was Carlos. She didn't know who he was until her brother came home and exploded.

"Are you?" She asked as they descended the stairs.

Lando nodded, too. He let out a sigh through his nostrils as they got to the dining room doors. "All you have to do is sit there and say nothing, okay? Let me do all of the talking. If you need to, give me a signal and I'll get you out," he said.

"We've got this," she said and they pushed open the door.

***

The dinner was mostly business talks, something Y/N wasn't very familiar with. Lando spoke with Sainz and Carlos, their tones civil. It was the first civil dinner the Norris family and the Sainz family had managed to have in a good few years.

The business talk sounded like gibberish to Y/N. There was a lot of importing, mentions of drugs and drink, and weapons. The Sainz had always been the biggest importers of the most weapons, supplying them to other families. With their feud, the Norris family was made to go else where for their weapons.

The subject of the arranged marriage hadn't come up yet, and Y/N was grateful. The attention hadn't turned to her at all, and she was grateful.

She ate, taking small bites like her mother had taught her. While she had never been to a dinner such as this, her mother had prepared her. Every meal the family had together was like this: Y/N's mother screaming at her until she sat up straight, forcing her to cut her food into the smallest bites possible.

"You must appear proper and dainty. That way, when you strike, they will never see you coming."

Carlos kept glancing at Y/N. As he ate, he looked up at her. His mannerisms at the table were just as well trained as her own, although he had been taught to look imposing and powerful. Just like the other two men at the table.

But Y/N didn't notice him. Of course she didn't; she was too busy staring down at her plate. She looked so... small. But that was all intentional. Carlos had been in this world long enough to know this. He was almost positive it was all an act.

There was a part of Carlos, admittedly a very small part, that wanted to get on with things. He was to be married to a woman he didn't know - he didn't want to just wait around while Lando, a man younger than him, discussed irrelevant business with his father.

The next time Carlos looked at her, Y/N was looking right back at him. As soon as his eyes met her, she looked away, bashfully.

As soon as they were finished with the main course and maids had taken away the plates, Lando turned to his sister. "I guess we should get on with things," he said.

"Yes, I suppose we should," Sainz replied, his accent thick.

Carlos cleared his throat. "Padre, no quiero hacer esto con ella en la habitación," he said, his voice low (father, i don't want to do this with her in the room).

His father looked at him, but he said nothing. From within his suit jacket, he pulled out a notepad and a pair of glasses. Placing the glasses on his nose, he opened the notebook and looked at Lando. "My son and your sister are to be married. This will link our families together. This means that the feud between our families will have ended. We will resupply you with weapons and you will reopen the trading routes for us."

Lando had his own notes in front of him, notes written by his father. He and Sainz had clearly discussed this before; all of their notes were the same. "First, lets discuss my sister." This wasn't on Lando's notes, but it was the most important thing to him. "I want her protected, incredibly well protected," he said and Sainz noted it down. "This is the only deal she'd ever to be involved in."

Over the top of his glasses, Sainz looked at Y/N. "Surely this is a choice for tu hermana. Is this what you want?"

When Lando didn't answer, Y/N realised that Sainz was speaking to her. She hadn't been ready for this, for him to actually speak to her. "Uh, yes, sir. I-I'm not to be involved in any business."

From the other side of the table, Carlos let out a laugh. Ever since he learnt that he was to one day take a wife and take over his fathers business, he had always dreamed of having a strong wife, one that would stand behind him, hand on his shoulder as she commanded his men.

Y/N Norris would never be that woman. She would never be the woman he truly wanted. But she was the woman he was stuck with.

"Very well," said Sainz. He turned his attention back to Lando and held his pen to his notepad. "Any more demands, Norris?"

Lando hadn't expected this. He hadn't expected Sainz to address him as Norris, not when his father was still alive. But that was what was happening. Lando was going to become Norris, the head of his family, when his father eventually passed.

Clearing his throat, Lando continued. "My father and I have spoken and I know Y/N is expected to move to Spain once she is married. When my father eventually passes, I want her to come home for a week, at least, for the funeral."

"No," Sainz said instantly. "You may have her for two days."

"Father-"

"Two days, and that's final."

Somewhat meekly, Y/N cleared her throat. "Um, sir, do I not get a choice in the matter?" Her voice was quiet, so quiet that Sainz didn't hear her.

But Carlos did. "Padre, it is her fathers funeral. We can let her come back for a week."

There was one rules in a crime family: Don't talk back to the head of the family. Sainz glared at his son from across the table. He could lose his temper, pull out a weapon and point it at Carlos. But that wouldn't be professional.

"It is something that we can discuss when the time comes," Sainz said, his voice low.

Those were all of Lando's demands for his sister. When he and Sainz moved onto the rest of the business, Y/N looked at Carlos. She wanted, more than anything, to thank him, for sticking up for her.

There wouldn't be any time for them to get to know each other, that was the tragic thing. Sainz and Lando were to set a date between them, and Y/N wouldn't get to see Carlos until the day of their wedding.

Y/N tried to listen, she really did, but she couldn't. Things were becoming very real, now.

Taglist: @fangirlmusicbiashoe

@prttylight

[polkadotloser]

mdni .•’*

Anakin Skywalker alphabet

(my interpretation of the boyish episode || ani)

A – Aftercare: What are they like after sex? Affectionate? Distant? Clingy?

he is very very clingy in my personal opinion. I imagine him clinging onto her and possibly staying inside her—not out of a cockwarming kink but purely because it makes him feel connected. I have a feeling he checks in—worried he might of done something wrong or you didn’t like it.

B – Body part: What’s their favorite body part on their partner?

ok so, I think that ani likes to say “her lips” or “her eyes” because it’s mostly true and sounds extra romantic but he’s only a sucker for breasts. small, big, medium. it’s not even a sexual thing (some of the time) because he merely think they are just beautiful.

C – Cum: Where do they like to finish? How messy are they?

I imagine Anakin as a cowgirl/missionary kinda guy. so it depends. when she’s on top he’ll climax all over his twitching stomach muscles and when he’s on top he will climax on her stomach. I personally don’t think he would cum on a girls face (at least one he really likes) because it feels ‘degrading’ or ‘disrespectful’ (but if she showed that she was okay with it, he wouldn’t argue)

D – Dirty secret: What’s something spicy they secretly fantasize about?

I feel if he is going for someone a little older (padme) or someone who sees him a little boy his ultimate fantasy is having that girl tell him how ‘manly’ or ‘mature’ he is. not out of ego but so he feels he’s enough for her.

E – Experience:

mmm, no. he doesn’t have much experience. maybe a few kisses or even heavy patting but besides from that he doesn’t really. when it comes to having a relationship when he does have intimacy i imagine him as very eager—like any hormonal guy. in the beginning of the relationship he’ll be very shy or nervous about sex but once he gets confirmation by his partner that she wants it, it’s game on.

F – Favourite position: What’s their go-to position or kink?

like I said either missionary or cowgirl. though I think he is often very tired or sore from a mission or training so he likes to lay back and watch the girl he loves feel good on him.

G – Goofy: Can they laugh during sex or are they serious?

I think he likes to pretend to people that he’s all mature and serious but during sex with someone he loves or a girlfriend he’s very much all smile and giggles if either him or her messes up. (Though he’s quick to stroke her hair if she messed up and encourages her to “keep going”)

H – Hair: Do they care about body hair—on themselves or others?

I think for himself he still has hair but he’s trimmed. he’s happy to compromise if his partner wants him to grow it out or shave more—it’s not super important what his hair looks like. on the other end I think when it comes to hair on his partner he likes trimmed. if it completely bald or bushy he won’t complain but he prefers trimmed curls. bald feels artificial and bushy can be scratchy. as for leg hair I think he prefers smooth shaven but if shes a few days late to shave and it’s prickly—or a little over grown it’s not a turn off.

I – Intimacy: What makes them feel closest to their partner?

I think being held close. hands in hair, bodies flush and soft kisses. even in non sexual situations, it makes him feel extremely close to his partner.

J – Jack off: Do they touch themselves often? Do they think about their partner when they do?

oh brotha. I think because he’s nineteen and usually disciplined in other parts of life he loves to burn off some steam. humping his pillow, rubbing or stroking himself. depends what his day was like. when it comes to thinking of his partner he never thinking of her in a degrading or overly crude way. usually just the gentle/propionate curve of her hips or brushing her hair back to expose her neck. though saying that he is definitely still a hormonal ‘teen’ so sometimes his mind wonders to dirtier places.

K – Kinks: What are their top 3 kinks?

1. Having his braid tugged (lightly)

2. Leaving love bites on his partners chest or shoulders

3. hearing his partner call him a nickname like ani or so on

L – Location: Favorite place to get it on (besides the bedroom)?

in a quite romantic place. a field, balcony or in the under a shady tree. there aren’t much other places to do so and even though he likes his own bed and the idea of sharing an intimate moment with his partner in his bed, if he was caught in the Jedi temple with a girl it would be devastating.

M – Moan: Are they loud? Do they try to hold it in?

in the beginning when he’s trying to seem all manly and experienced he’ll do everything to hold back every sound but when she gives him a funny look or insists she wants him too (or he’s just with someone he really trusts) he’s a mess of groans and even whimpers.

N – No: what is a hard limit for them?

i think degrading of himself or of her. he wants to feel validated or special so being called ‘bad’ or being told ‘is that all you’ve got’ when he’s giving it his all can crush him. he also won’t degrade her (heavily at least) because he respects her too much. things like ‘aww poor ani’ in a condescending tone from his partner can be a bit hot but nothing passed that. 

O – Oral: Giving or receiving? How do they feel about it?

he likes oral but usually he just likes her to lick or suck softly, making her cry or gag doesn’t fully appeal to him. he does thrust into her mouth a little but never to the point of her gagging or struggling. I think he’s not a total muncher, YET. I think when his teenage urges to just ‘go at it’ will slow down in time and he will grow to appreciate more thorough. not that he can’t get his girl wet with some murmured words, a make out and some heavy patting.

P – Pace: Fast and rough or slow and sensual?

in the beginning he’s very slow and carful but as the hormones and need for more sets in his slow thrusts turn into quick grinds. I think the only time he goes hard enough to be considered rough is after a long day or a built up of need. when he only goes fast if he’s on top of his partner, he burys his face into her neck or hair when he does it. he even bear hugs her when his arms are too tired to keep himself up.

Q – Quickie: Yes or no? When and where?

I think he much prefers more special and ‘time spotting, no rush’ intimacy but when he’s very worked up or in a rush he’s loves a good quickie. he’s very excited and infatuated with his partner so he does cum quickly easily (haha). I imagine this happening before she has to sneak out of his room or when he sees her in a dress that looks particularly eye catching.

R – Risk: Are they into public play or getting caught?

no sadly. I think that if he wasn’t a padawan he would love gropes in public or making out in the market but if anyone saw and told his master he would be in a world of trouble. the furthest he goes with the public/risk of getting caught is when he sneaks you into his room in the Jedi temple. though the idea of having his tongue in your mouth in the middle of the market and seeing a guy jealously watch as he kisses such a pretty girl.

S – Stamina: How many rounds can they go? How long do they last?

without pulling out or taking a break I imagine him lasting 5-7 ish minutes. when he pulls out occasionally to calm down or he and his partner pauses for a few seconds he can last probably 15. when he’s only lasting around 5 minutes he can probably go 2-3 rounds but with each round he gets sloppier and more sensitive (poor ani)

T – Toys: Do they use toys? Which ones?

I can’t imagine a young jedi owning any toys for himself and I don’t think he likes the idea of something else pleasing his partner. I don’t think so. the closes he uses to a toy is just lube haha.

U – Unusual: What’s something unexpected that turns them on?

seeing his partner use a lightsaber. grunting, sweating and swinging the buzzing weapon does things to Anakin. I don’t really think it’s a ‘dom scary thing’ that turns him on because I think he could also find it really attractive if she’s struggling or being clumsy. just seeing her try something he loves so much is… idk.

V – Volume: Are they loud in bed? What do they sound like?

“ah!” or “ahhh” that’s all I’m gonna say (just look at the noises he makes when he’s in pain)

W – Wild card: Random spicy headcanon of your choice!

he feels SO guilty and pervy doing this but sometimes he might use the force to make her dress skirt lift up a little or to brush her hair away from her neck. he feels so guilty after, he knows it’s really wrong and he doesn’t do it again.

X – X-Rated: What kind of dirty talk do they use, if any?

I imagine it’s all praise. “you’re so so pretty” or “oh maker… your j-just so perfect”. he doesn’t say it to impress her or to swoon her, he says it because he can’t really help it. it simply spills out and he gets this urge to tell his lover how perfect they look, sound and feel. if he doesn’t he feels like he’s doing them an injustice.

Y – Yearning: How do they act when they’re really turned on but can’t have their partner?

terrible. wether it’s his crush or his partner and he can’t have them he YEARNS. like close to tears and stomach in terrible knots kind of yearning. if it’s a crush that he can’t have or he’s on a mission and hasn’t seen his partner in days or even weeks it sometimes does drive him to to hug his pillow tightly and sniffle.

Z – Zzz: How quickly do they fall asleep after? Do they cuddle?

sleepy ani :-(

he’s so tired and exhausted after drawn out intimacy. he collapses on you or you collapse on him and it’s lights out. he falls asleep murmuring after and sleepy whispers. I imagine that half way through a sweet or praising compliment or check in that he did alright before you can even respond he’s snoring away… (oh my Shayla.)

xoxo polka

(Anyone want a Stephen one?)

[hansungie01]

Call Me Back? // h.j.s

Genre: Smut, Eventual Angst

Word Count: 5k

Contains: Fratboy!Jisung, Female reader, oral sex (female receiving and brief male receiving), unprotected sex, nipple play, cum swallowing, use of recreational drugs, mentions of alcohol

A/N: So I’ve decided to make this into a short little series, so here is part 2!

Maybe: Jisung: Hey, it’s Jisung, from the other night.

You couldn’t respond. What were you even going to say? And how the hell did he even get your number?

“Oh hey, it’s great to hear from you! By the way, sorry for hooking up with you and then walking out in the morning with no explanation! My bad!”

No, you couldn’t. It was better to just ignore his message, and move on. It was only a hookup after all, and that’s how these things are supposed to go, right? You hookup, leave, and then you move on with your life.

And so, you shut your phone off and went back to what was really important - your studies. You opened up your laptop, pulling up your latest study guide from your desktop and reviewing your notes.

Until it dinged again.

Your head snapped in the direction of your phone, expecting to see Jisung’s phone number flash across the screen again. You felt your whole body relax once you saw that it was only your friend Brianna, the one who had persuaded you to go to the party in the first place.

Bri: Hey girl! Sorry I didn’t reach out to you sooner, I’ve been super busy lately :(

Bri: Anyways, I’m free today. Maybe we can hang out, catch up a bit! I haven’t seen you in a few days!

She was right, you hadn’t seen her in a few days. Since the night of the party, to be exact. It wouldn’t hurt to go out and see her for a little while, and then you could go back to studying afterwards.

Y/n: Hey! Sure, only for a few hours though, I have lots of studying to get done.

Bri: Of course you do. I’ll meet you at the coffee shop down the road from campus in about 20 minutes then?

Y/n: See you then!

———————————————–

By the time you finally got to the coffee shop, your friend had already arrived. She was easily recognizable; her dark red hair and bright sweaters always made her stand out from the rest.

She waved you over in her direction, pointing to the drink she had already bought for you. You grinned as you approached her table, seating yourself in the chair across from her.

“Hey! Thanks for the drink, I’m surprised you still remember what I like after all this time”, you joked as you reached over to grab the drink from her end of the table.

“Yeah, yeah”, she smiled, rolling her eyes and shaking her head at you. “Anyways, how have you been?”

“I’m well. Studying as much as I can for our upcoming exams”, you replied. “How about you?

How’s the studying going”

“Good, good”, she nodded, taking a sip of her drink. “It’s going good”

You squinted suspiciously at her change of tone. “You haven’t started, have you”

“Ok fine, I haven’t. But I’ll be fine, I’d much rather have fun during my college years”

Bri had always been the type to prioritize fun over studies. Even in highschool, she had always chosen a good party over preparing for exams. It always seemed to work for her too, since she somehow still managed to maintain decent grades, enough to get her into the same college as you.

You were never like that though. Since elementary school, you always had to work harder than the other kids in order to keep up academically. That meant skipping sleepovers, staying up late, and even prioritizing your grades over your mental health at times. It was exhausting, but at least it kept you from failing any classes.

“Speaking of that”, Bri spoke up again. “I didn’t see you at the party later that night, where’d you run off to? I tried to find you afterwards, but it was like you had disappeared”

The party, of course. It was at this party that you met Jisung for the first time, and would eventually end up in his bed the next morning. You knew telling her this would shock her, since you weren’t the type to partake in hook ups normally. But there was no way you could keep it a secret forever - she was your best friend, and you didn’t want to hide anything from her.

“Right, about that”, you looked to the side, holding onto your drink close to you for comfort. “I,uh”

She raised her eyebrows, waiting to hear you continue. “Yes?”

Your voice grew quiet as you confessed what had happened. “I may have spent the night with someone-”

“You slept with someone??”, your friend suddenly shouted, earning a few weird looks from some of your peers in the tables around you.

You felt yourself shrinking in embarrassment, not wanting to draw attention to yourself, especially for something like this. Your friend seemed to notice this, and apologized instantly.

“Oh god, I’m sorry”, she said, bringing her voice down a few notches. “I just got excited! Y/n slept with someone! I mean, we’re in college, lots of people do, I just never expected you to do that kind of thing. You never came across as the type to do hookups, you know, since you study all the time and when you’re not studying, you’re working. And when you’re not working, you’re sleeping. And when you’re not sleeping, you’re watching Netflix..”

You tried not to take offence to her rambling. It was true, this sort of thing wasn’t something you’d typically partake in. In fact, this was your first hookup ever.

“Yeah, I guess I just got really drunk, and so was he, and then we bumped into each other, and well, yeah”, you felt awkward even explaining what happened, trying to find the words to explain it.

“Ooooh y/n!!”, Bri said, now swinging her free hand in excitement. “Did you get his name?”

“Mhm”, you hummed. “It was Jisung”

“Jisung??”, your friend stopped moving, eyes widening the moment she heard the name. “Like Han Jisung?”

“You know him?”

She nodded. “That was his party the other night. Him and his friends all live together and throw them like every weekend. Every time I go to one of them, Jisung is always stupid drunk and doing some dumb shit with his friends”

None of this new information was shocking to you - Jisung looked, acted and spoke exactly like a frat boy. Like the last kind of person you thought you’d be associating yourself with.

“I’m surprised he hooked up with you”, she added nonchalantly, taking another sip of her drink.

You furrowed your eyebrows at her statement. “And what’s that supposed to mean?”

“Oh, I didn’t mean it like that”, she waved her hands in front of her as if dismissing your concerns. “He’s usually the type to hook up with those preppy, snotty party girls. You know, the typical college brats. You’re not like that, so I’m just surprised”

“Well it’s not like he had very much time to get to know me, for all he knows, I could be”, you responded, crossing your arms in front of you rather defensively.

“True, but you don’t look like it”, she continued. “He probably saw your beauty from a mile away and thought ‘ah yes, that’s the one I’m fucking tonight’”

When you heard her drunk Jisung impersonation, you couldn’t help but burst out in laughter.

Your friend always had a knack for making people laugh with her impressions, they never failed to brighten the mood whenever needed.

You both took a few moments to calm down before continuing the conversation.

“Did you talk to him afterwards?”, she asked, still gasping for air after laughing so hard.

You shook your head. “No, but he texted me. I still don’t know how he got my number”

“He texted you?”, her eyebrows raised in disbelief. “Damn, must’ve been some good sex if he’s coming back for more”

It was good sex, or at least what you could remember. You hated to admit it though, that maybe he thought the same thing. But you shook off that feeling for now, not wanting to give yourself a false understanding of what he was thinking.

“Oh stop it. He’s probably just texting me to thank him for that night, that’s all”, you rolled your eyes. “Besides, he’s probably got plenty of girls he could be hooking up with instead”

“I don’t know, y/n. Maybe he wants more of you”, she winked playfully, emphasizing the last word. “I would be messaging him back, if it were me. That boy is fine as hell, I mean, have you seen his arms in those muscle t-shirts that he wears?”

“Ok yeah, sure he’s cute”, you confessed shyly. “But I don’t know how I feel about messing around with a frat boy. Just sounds like a recipe for disaster”

“Whatever you say, y/n”, she said. “If it were me, I would definitely be messing around with that”

———————————————–

For the next few days, you contemplated that text message. You thought about what your friend Bri had said, and how maybe, just maybe, he really did want to hook up again.

But was that really what you needed? You still knew next to nothing about this boy, and by texting him back, you might just be getting yourself into more trouble than you’d like. Not to mention, you still had finals, and the last thing you wanted to worry about was a boy.

But at the same time, maybe he was just planning on thanking you for that night. It was only a text, and if it were something important, he probably would’ve told you in the message.

Your mind was conflicted - you were torn between taking the chance and texting him back, or deleting his number completely and moving on with your life. But of all the things you were uncertain of, you knew one thing for sure: there was only one way to find out.

And so after much deliberation, you finally decided to text him back one quiet evening during one of your study sessions.

You picked up your phone, opening up his message for the first time.

[6:45pm] Y/n: Hey

You placed your phone back down on the table, taking a deep breath as you waited for a response.

Less than three minutes later, your phone dinged again.

[6:47pm] Jisung: Hi

[6:48pm] Jisung: What are you up to rn?

What are you up to? Oh nothing, just spent the last few days debating whether or not to respond to your message, that’s all.

You weren’t about to tell him that though, instead opting for a casual response.

[6:51pm] Y/n: Nothing at the moment, why?

[6:52pm] Jisung: Cool.

[6:52pm] Jisung: Can we meet?

And there it was. You bit your lip nervously as you read over the text message, trying to decide just what to say. Was this really a good idea?

But just as you told yourself before, there was only one way to find out.

[7:00pm] Y/n: When ?

[7:01pm] Jisung: Now works, I can bring you to my place.

Now? What was so urgent that he needed to talk to you now?

[7:07pm] Y/n: Alright

[7:08pm] Jisung: On my way!

[7:08pm] Jisung: **omw

Gotta love autocorrect.

———————————————–

20 minutes after sending him your address, Jisung texted you back to inform you that he arrived.

Sure enough, when you looked outside your window, there was a black car parked right in front of your place. You didn’t know why, but your heart was beating fast, anxious to talk to him again. A good anxious or a bad anxious, you didn’t know. But nonetheless, you opened the door to his car.

“Hey”, he nodded towards you. “Come in”

“Hey”, you responded as normal as you could manage, climbing inside and shutting the door beside you. He sounded casual, just as though you and him were nothing more than college friends.

Upon seating yourself in the car, however, your eyes caught sight of something that made you second guess what the hell you were doing.

Jisung, trying to suppress a smirk, but doing a horrible job. His mouth was only partially covered by his palm, his other hand gripping onto the steering wheel as he drove down the road. From the corner of your eye, you could see Jisung biting his lip, playing with his lip piercing.

Something was telling you that maybe, this wasn’t going to be an ordinary meet up.

———————————————–

As soon as you arrived to his place, you were met with the overpowering smell of alcohol and weed. The smell alone would’ve been tolerable, had you not also seen the mess of bottles and trash surrounding his place. Looking over, you caught sight of what you assumed to be the aftermath of one of Jisung’s parties - a box of domino’s pizza and an array of empty red solo cups left out on the coffee table next to the couch. He couldn’t have cleaned up a little bit before inviting you over? That wasn’t why you were here though. You were here because Jisung needed to talk to you.

“You want anything to drink? A blunt?”, he asked, reaching in his pocket and pulling out a thin white-looking stick along with a small lighter.

You shook your head abruptly. “No, no, I’m good. I don’t do that kind of stuff”

“Whatever you say”, he shrugged. Holding the blunt with one hand and lighting it with the other,

Jisung took a hit, exhaling the smoke without a single cough. He definitely wasn’t new to this.

“So..”, you said awkwardly, looking around the room and shifting in place.

Jisung stood in front of you, sticking his free hand inside of the pockets of his pants. It wasn’t until then that you really took in his appearance. He was wearing a grey hoodie and ripped skinny jeans, and his nails had been painted the colour black, unlike the night before. His hair was noticeably tangled, as if he had tried to style it with his hands alone, causing the strands to fall freely in front of his face.

“So”, he looked at you with a smirk. “Why’d you leave me so soon?”

“What?”, your head snapped back in his direction. You didn’t expect Jisung to get straight to the point like that. He chuckled, taking another hit before responding.

“Well, you left me in the morning. I didn’t get a chance to talk to you”, he paused for a moment before continuing. “Didn’t get a chance to tell you how much fun I had”

You pursed your lips, not really sure how to reply. Was it wrong to leave him that morning? You figured that’s what everyone did, you didn’t know people actually stayed the next morning and talked.

“It was just a one night stand, Jisung”, you spoke up after a few moments of silence. “There was nothing to talk about”

Jisung took one final hit of his blunt, tossing the bud onto the ground and crushing it with his shoe. He knelt his body down in front of you, looking directly into your eyes. You could really smell the weed coming from him now, stronger than any other smell in the room.

“Yeah? If it was only a one night stand”, Jisung tilted his head. “Then why are you here right now?”

You scoffed in annoyance. Truth was, you still weren’t really sure why you had come back after only a few days. Something was reeling you back in, but holding you back at the same time. He hadn’t even told you what he was calling you over for. And yet, you agreed - although you weren’t certain why, whether that was because your friend had convinced you, or that you were curious about what he wanted from you. All you knew was that Jisung was in front of you now, standing with the most smug expression you had ever seen.

“You’re the one who texted me in the first place”, you tried your best to sound as confident as possible, but by the way Jisung chuckled at your words, that seemed to be less than successful.

“And you agreed”, Jisung seemed to have read your exact thoughts, knowing exactly what you were thinking just by looking at you. He took his hand out of his pocket, gently placing his fingertips underneath your chin and lifting your face up so you would look directly at him. “So don’t try to act tough with me. You can admit that you had fun too, that you’d love to do it again”

You nearly laughed out loud at his cocky remark.

“Yeah you wish”, you spat. “Listen, if you just brought me over here so you could belittle me, then I’m going h-”

“Maybe I do”, Jisung interrupted, causing your jaw to snap shut. “Maybe that’s why I got your number, because I wanted to fuck that tight pussy of yours again.”

You felt the impact of his words go straight to your core. Jisung could tell too, because his gaze fell down to your thighs once he noticed you subconsciously squeezing your thighs together at his filthy confession.

“Oh I can tell you liked that”, Jisung mocked, looking back up at you. “Didn’t you, baby?”

“No, I didn’t”, you argued back, trying to hide the fact that Jisung’s words had turned you on instantly.

“No?”, Jisung tilted his head to the side again, his face drawn out in a fake pout. His fingers went to gently caress your lips as he watched you let out a shaky breath. “Wanna say that again for me?”

You huffed, accepting your defeat. As much as you hated to admit it, Jisung had you wrapped around his fingers within a matter of minutes.

“Okay”

“’Okay’ what?”, he raised his eyebrow at you.

You sighed before answering. “I liked it”

“Yeah I thought so”, Jisung glanced down at your lips as his thumb continued caressing your lower lip. “You don’t have to lie to me, baby. I want you just as bad as you want me”

You nodded, although you weren’t paying much attention to his words as you were to the lips that spoke them.

Before long, he leaned in, letting his lips connect with yours for the first time since the other night. You instantly relaxed into the kiss, bringing your hand to rest against Jisung’s cheek as you felt yourself falling entirely into his touch.

Jisung soon climbed over top of you, pushing you backwards onto the couch with his lips still pressed against yours. His body found its way in between your legs, in a position that was quite familiar to the both of you.

Jisung dragged his lips down all the way to your chest, and then along the centre of your stomach, making you shiver at his touch. His lips brushed against the sensitive areas of your tummy, before gliding down to rest at your thighs. He began leaving love bites on the flesh of your inner leg, eliciting a soft gasp from you that made Jisung hum against your skin.

Jisung then pulled his lips away for a moment to gaze up at you.

“I don’t think I’ve gotten a taste of you yet, have I?”, he said, rubbing your thigh gently as he spoke. You shook your head, not recalling a time where Jisung’s face had been between your thighs like this.

“I’m not sure, only one way to find out”, Jisung smirked once more and reached up to yank your shorts from your waist, tossing them over his shoulder.

“Fuck.”, he cursed at the sight of your core directly in front of him, already soaked from his teasing, and all for him. “You look fucking delicious”

He felt himself harden in his own pants, reminiscing on just how good your pussy had made him feel last time. With one last glance, Jisung brought his face down against your core.

The feeling of being inside of you had felt amazing, but this? This was a whole other level of enjoyment. Jisung’s eyes fluttered shut the moment he could taste you on his tongue, letting out a moan of pure enjoyment. Jisung, with his eyes still closed, proceeded to swirl his tongue and lips all around your core, lapping up your juices as if you were a meal he just couldn’t get enough of.

He pulled away then, just enough to be able to speak.

“Oh, I definitely didn’t get to taste you. There’s no way I would’ve forgotten this, you taste so fucking good”, he said, borderline moaning the last words.

You giggled at his words, quickly being cut off however by Jisung’s tongue reattaching itself to your core. You let out a loud moan, Jisung’s eager motions doing wonders on your body. It truly felt like heaven.

You looked down as Jisung quickly became desperate, practically making out with your still wet cunt and making the most obscene sounds. The feeling was indescribable, and Jisung’s passion was only adding to your pleasure. It was as though he was desperate to see you cum for him, this time sober and completely aware of what he was doing. He wanted all of you on his tongue.

In order to fulfill that desire as much as possible, Jisung quickly slipped two fingers inside of you, long enough to soak them up with your juices. Once he took them out, he slid his hand underneath your shirt and all the way up to cup your breasts. He pulled your bra to the side, enough for his fingers to make contact with your already hard and sensitive nipples.

Your breathing picked up once you felt his fingers rubbing wet circles around your nipple, and by instinct, you reached down to grip onto his hair. The stimulation added to the pleasure you were already feeling, and within a matter of minutes, you knew you were already close.

“Jisung, I’m gonna cum”, you moaned, warning him that if he didn’t move away, you’d be finishing all over his face. Instead of stopping however, he gripped tightly onto your thigh withone hand, holding your legs apart as he began sucking harshly on your clit while his other hand continued rubbing quick circles around your nipple. “Oh my god I’m so close”

“Yeah? You’re gonna cum for me already?”, he groaned against your clit, the vibrations sending you further on edge. “Cum then”

Your body naturally jerked up into his face as you rode yourself into your high, and you swore you could see stars. Jisung didn’t attempt to stop you from moving while you came, and let you grind your cunt against his tongue while his hand kept a tight grip onto your breast, his way of bracing himself on anything his hands could grab while you fucked yourself on his face.

Jisung lifted himself up once you finally stopped moving, climbing up to kiss you on your lips and allowing you to taste yourself on his tongue. Before long, he disconnected your lips, resting his forehead against yours as you both tried to catch your breath.

“Now I remember…”, Jisung sighed while looking into your eyes.

Your lips drew out in a tired smile.“Wanna show me what else you remember?”

“Oh you’re naughty”, he smirked before bringing his head down to your neck, grinding his growing bulge against your wet core and drinking in the sounds of your whimpers. “Didn’t expect that from a pretty little thing like you”

At what was quite possibly the worst time, you heard his cellphone ringing. Jisung kept going however, ignoring the obnoxious ringing sound in his pocket.

“Jisung, I think you should get that”, you said, placing a hand on his chest in an attempt to get him to stop.

“It’s just my roommate,” he replied. “They’ll end the call eventually”

But they didn’t. The ringing seemed to go on forever, until you both found it almost impossible to ignore. So with an annoyed huff, Jisung pulled himself off of you and reached in his pocket to answer whoever had called.

“Hey man”, he tried his best to sound normal, although his breathing was noticeably heavier than usual. “What’s up?”

Jisung was silent for a moment while the person on the other end talked.

“Nah, I can’t. I’m busy right now. Can you get anyone else to pick them up?”

Another pause.

“Busy with what?”, he looked over towards you, running his hands in his hair. “Just.. doing some house cleaning”

You rolled your eyes, of course he wouldn’t admit that he had a girl over, especially not right in front of you. You didn’t care too much about that though, you just wanted him to get off the phone so you could have him all to yourself again.

“No I’m being serious, I’m cleaning. Don’t laugh. Yeah yeah, I’ll get them later, okay? See ya man”, ending the call, Jisung tossed his phone to the side with a frustrated sigh, before climbing back on top of you.

“Fucking cockblock”, he said as his lips continued where he had left off. “Now, where were we?”

“Hm, you were about to do some house cleaning”, you sighed, moving your head to allow his lips more room.

“Yeah, you’re the ‘house cleaning’ I was talking about”, he mumbled, you could feel him smiling against your neck as he spoke.

You giggled. “Then shut up and do it”

Jisung smiled again as his hand began to travel up and down the side of your body, running his fingers along your skin.

“Don’t be mean, baby”

Jisung placed his free hand on your thigh, holding your leg apart as his hips began to grind harshly against your core. You squirmed, since that was all you could do with Jisung’s hand holding you down.

Taking his hand off of your thigh, he stripped himself of his clothing, tossing them to the ground beside him. He leaned forward again, grabbing onto his length and rubbing it against your entrance.

After some time, you finally had enough of his teasing. “Jisung, please”, you moaned, trying to grind your hips up against his cock.

“But I thought you didn’t like it?”, Jisung mocked you from earlier. You knew exactly what he wanted to hear, but you hated the fact that he was going to make you say it out loud.

“Jisungg”, you whined, causing Jisung to smirk at your neediness. “I already said I like it”

“Say it again”, he urged, still teasing your entrance with his cock.

“Fine”, you huffed. “I like it, Jisung”

Jisung thrusted his hips forward, just barely enough for the tip of his length to slip in. “Again for me”

“I like it, Jisung”, you replied immediately, quickly growing impatient. “I just need to feel your cock again, please”

“I know you do, baby”, Jisung cooed, pulling his hips back before thrusting them all the way forward. He let out a groan, the feeling of being inside of you for the first time in a while was almost too much for him to handle. He missed this, and he could tell that you had as well.

You rolled your head back in pleasure as his hips soon sped up. The stimulation was beginning to make your head feel fuzzy, as if you were melting beneath him.

“Fuck, you’re just so good”, he groaned as he fucked you deep, looking down at you to watch your face contort in pleasure. “You’re taking me so well, just like the last time”

You loved hearing his voice, the way it suddenly got so much deeper and raspier whenever he was fucking you. Hearing him say such filthy things to you in that voice only made you wetter, which made it easier for Jisung to fuck himself into you.

Cumming on Jisung’s tongue not long ago had your body feeling more sensitive than usual; you could already feel your orgasm approaching quickly every time you felt Jisung’s cock hitting your most sensitive spots.

You warned Jisung by reaching up to grip his arm, and he quickly got the message. Speeding up the pace of his hips, Jisung wrapped his right hand around your hip while his free hand gripped tightly onto the bedsheets below him.

“Cum me for baby, I know you’re close”, he breathed, the words just barely intelligible from how fast he was moving. “Show me how much you missed this”

With one final moan of his name, your walls tightened around his cock as your orgasm washed over you. You held your grip on Jisung’s bicep as your head dropped back against the couch.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck”, you chanted while Jisung moved his free hand from you hip to your thighs, riding you through your orgasm while your legs shook uncontrollably in his embrace. “Fuck Jisung, I can’t”

Jisung continued fucking you, now chasing his own release.

Once your head stopped feeling dizzy and you found the strength to move, you lifted your head up to look at Jisung, just in time to see him pulling his cock out of you so he could cum on your stomach instead this time.

But you had another idea, and so you quickly scooted your body down so that his cock was directly in front of your face, his knees on either side of your shoulders.

“What are y-”, Jisung eyes widened once you wrapped your lips around his cock, finally realizing what you were doing.

“Fuckk y/n..”, he groaned with his hand still stroking his cock. Immediately after, Jisung threw his head back as he came inside of your mouth, letting his release shoot down your throat and on your tongue.

Jisung hadn’t planned on making you swallow his cum - and he definitely hadn’t expected you to do it at your own will. But he had to admit that watching you lazily sucking on his tip and moaning in pleasure while you took all of his cum, was so fucking dirty to him. Just how he liked it.

You looked up at him as you took his cock out of your mouth, licking one last time across his slit to make sure you had gotten every last drop.

“Fucking hell”, he breathed out, looking down at you. “You’re so good”

———————————————–

It wasn’t until you shut the door to your apartment that it hit you: you’d just fucked Jisung for the second time. In the heat of the moment, you’d done something you’d initially told yourself you’d never do again.

You still knew nothing about this boy, except for the fact that he was the definition of a college fuck boy. Maybe you’d regret doing this, maybe even end up crying. But you couldn’t deny,

Jisung was a good fuck.

And maybe that’s what you needed, someone to help relieve your stress every once and a while.

Maybe that’s why even after questioning what the fuck you were doing, you still agreed to see him again, still responded to his text message the next day when he told you he had a good time.

There was no harm in that, right? People do this all the time, it’s nothing new.

As long as neither of you caught feelings for one another, everything would be fine. At least, that’s what you told yourself.

[strulobitch]

What type of parents do you think your f1 pairings would be?

Like who would be the chill parent, the strict parent, the fun parent or others type? and which parent would be the favourite among the kids?

(I'm glad to hear you're doing better! 🙏)

(Tysm for caring❤️‍🩹)

Okay, sooo

Here's a few I could come up with!

Strollonso are def the worrying parents. Or, Lance is. Fernando is fully in on whatever mischief the kids get up to. Their house is the one where kids like to gather at the most, because Fernando won't get mad at them for being loud or staying up late during sleepovers, and Lance will cook and bake them all kinds of snacks and foods so they have the energy to play around

Galex are the show-offy types. "Look at my baby. Have you seen my baby yet? Isn't my baby great?" You know the type. Every conversation circles back to their baby. Their baby has the most stylish outfits, but also incredibly loving and doting parents

Landoscar are similar to Strollonso, though Oscar is way stricter than Lance. Not in a bad or unhealthy way, just like reasonably strict. Oscar also puts a lot of importance to education, and is always encouraging the kids to do well academically, helping them with subjects they have trouble with. They're the house where kids like to do their homework, because they can ask Oscar about anything related to boring subjects(math, physics etc.), and he'll explain it to you

Isaliam are the chillest parents ever. Aldo understands the brainrot references the kids make, which they find absolutely hilarious. Overall it's a good time

Doohanpinto are the parents multiple of their kids' friends have crushes on. Both of them are equally popular in these groups. They're also very chill, so that earns them bonus points in their eyes

[theladyofshalott1989]

🌈️ Hogwarts Legacy Pride Week: Day Seven!

Prompt: The Future

"And Now I Hear a Symphony (Or, Damien's Vows)"

[ AO3 Link ]

Synopsis: Damien's vows to Sebastian on their wedding day.

This is a bonus chapter for the second long-fic in my "Like Moths to a Flame" series, but it can be read as a standalone.

Rating: Gen

Word Count: 894

Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x Male MC (Damien Evans)

Tags: Fluff; Wedding; Vows; Established Relationship; Companionable Snark; True Love; Soulmates

Author's Note: Thank you to everyone who followed along this week. And thank you once again to @hogwartslegacyprideweek for planning the event.

The banner below includes all of my own sketches of Sebastian and Damien on my "Corinne learns how to draw" journey, which I started nearly a year ago now.

The first part of the title comes from the song "I Hear a Symphony" by Cody Fry.

Sebastian, or shall I say, Bash? 

From the very first words you spoke to me, I knew it was you. Don't worry, I fully realize it took you a while to come to the same conclusion. I won't hold it against you. You had more important things on your mind, after all.

And yes, I truly mean it when I say I knew it was you. Not that I ever thought we had a future ahead of us, as I was still under the deeply unfortunate impression that my attraction to the same sex was forbidden and dangerous, akin to committing murder, if my father had anything to say about it. One of many reasons why he is not here today, but I digress… 

It would take a few weeks for me to realize that horrible assumption of mine was, in fact—miraculously!—not true. At least not here, in the marvelous, magical wizarding world. 

But when I did learn I was allowed to appreciate you, allowed to see you as more than just a friend, allowed to want to be with you, that thought became so much clearer. It was you, and only you. Despite everything. 

Okay, there might have been a moment or two, or five, when I was rather cross with you. You know which moments I am referring to, so I won't embarrass you, not on our wedding day—I'm not that ignorant , ahem—but I could never stay mad at that delightfully freckled face of yours for too long. Especially when I could always read how flustered being in my presence made you, even when you were fighting your feelings. Yes, I know you fought me for a while there. Don't look so shocked. 

How did I know? Because I knew that feeling all too well. Attraction of any sort was not something I could express for the first fifteen years of my life. Not outwardly. For fear of ruining my life. Not that I had much of a life ahead of me in the Muggle world. They wouldn't allow it. 

But then, you . You, Sebastian. Yes, you, in all your unending charm, your delicious sense of humor, your deep devotion and unshakeable loyalty, your, well, everything. Handsomeness, included, of course. But that was—is still—a given. 

I know you're likely blushing right now so I will pause. Everyone, please hide your eyes for a moment; Sebastian would much rather get caught in the Restricted Section of the library than have someone watch him having an emotional outburst, so look away. Are you looking away? Okay, good. Pausing…. now.

Alright, that's enough time. Are you ready, Bash? I'm going to assume that's a yes. Prepare yourself. 

Sebastian Nicolas not quite (yet) Evans-Sallow—thank you immensely for agreeing to have my surname come first, by the way; it has a better ring to it—I truly do think I was made for you. Let's say there is a God up there in the sky, one kinder than I grew up learning about and worshipping, or, better yet, maybe Merlin really is an all-knowing deity watching over us, chuckling when we use his name in vain. Wouldn't that be quite something?

I'm rambling, I know. Where am I going with this anyway, you ask? I promise there's a point. It's: whatever deity is up there, if at all, when they made me, they picked out my eye color, my hair color, my arse—yes, I know it's your favorite—my gender, just for you. Yes, yes, I know you also find women attractive and you would have loved me even if I were born female, but that's beside the point. 

Even if this is all just random chance and no one created us, so to speak, I'd like to think that something knew our lives would one day cross and we'd find each other here, now, with our family and friends celebrating our joined hands in marriage. Even if that something was just chance. In fact, that might be even more astounding. 

Anyway, I should probably wrap this up. Which I'll do. In a moment. I'm not quite done yet. 

Sebastian, Bash, my great love, I know our future together is bright. You, a professor already, even at such a young age, me, now co-owning Spintwitches, and Anne and Ominis, so close by, within walking distance of our cozy little home. We already have so much going for us. What more could we ask for? 

I know you know this already, but I love you. Immensely. So much it hurts some days, mostly on the days you make it difficult, which does still happen from time to time, yes, but I know there will never ever be a day I stop loving you. And that's not just a fact, but a promise. I hope you never doubt it; I hope you never doubt me. 

Thank you for being you. Thank you for loving me. Thank you for forgiving me when I made mistakes, of which I, too, have made a fair few of, as we all have. Mistakes are a part of life, after all. But you and I choose to be better every day, and that's what makes all the difference.

I love you, I love you, did I mention I love you? …I love you. 

Okay, that's all. Let's get married now, shall we?

[nooneelsecomesclose17]

Robert getting a dog because he needs a routine post prison

Written entirely on my phone so any mistakes are down to autocorrect

*****

He’s on his way to the pub when he sees her and slows down. He’s not seen much of her the past few eeeks, all part of his trying to ignore Robert plan.

“Alright? Who’s this?” He crouches down to pet the labradoodle at her side. The dog immediately rolls onto its back and he obliges, rubbing her belly with a smile.

“This is Maisie.”

“Harry finally wear you down?” She’d been moaning for months that his godson wanted a puppy.

“No…she’s…she’s Robert’s.”

“Robert’s? Got you doing all the hard work eh? Typical.” He’s surprised, Robert had always been against them getting one no matter how much he and Liv had pleaded. “What’s going on Vic?”

“Nothing. Robert had an appointment that’s all.”

“Oh. Anything important?” He didn’t know why he was asking, it wasn’t any of his business anymore.

“You should ask him.” She looks uncomfortable. “I should go. See you.”

He watched her go wondering just when everything had become so awkward between them.

*****

He doesn’t think about it anymore until he sees Robert when he’s on his morning run. He sees the lead hanging from his hands and then sees Maisie running in circles at the bottom of the hill.

“Bit early for you ain’t it? Your new woman a bit demanding. He almost laughs at the expression on his face. “Maisie. Saw Vic with her the other day.”

“Ah. Well I thought it’d be good for Harry.” Robert shrugs and Aaron wonders if he’d always been so bad at lying. “You’re running.”

“Yeah.” Robert instantly looks worried. “Not like that. I promise…this is just me trying to keep fit.”

“You know…I know things are difficult between us but, if you needed to talk you can always find me.”

“I know. Same goes for you, you know. I know what it can be like…adjusting.”

“I’m doing alright. Doubt John would think much to that.” Aaron knows he wouldn’t. Ever since Robert had come back he’d been making comments about it and no matter what Aaron said he carried on.

“Yeah well, the offers stands whatever he says. If you’ve not been there you don’t get it do you. Anyway I better go, I’ve got a delivery at eight.” He runs off, trying hard to fight the instinct to just stay with Robert for the rest of the day.

*****

The delivery lorry hasn’t long gone when his phone goes. If it had been anyone but Vic he would’ve ignored it.

“Aaron I can’t find Robert.”

“You know he’s an adult don’t you? Saw him earlier with Maisie up on the hill.”

“You don’t…he’s got a routine, and he never changes it. I just think something might’ve happened.”

“What exactly do you want me to do?”

“You could go look for him. Please, I’m worried, it’s not like him.” She’s quiet for a minute, “He’s been having nightmares. He denies it every morning but I hear him.”

“Alright alright, I’ll call you when I find him.”

He barely even remembers to lock the cabin door he’s that worked despite what he tells Vic. He’s trying not to worry, after all like he said, Robert’s a grown man who is perfectly capable of taking care of himself.

It takes him a good half an hour before he spots him down by the stream by Moira’s farm. He’s sat on the grass, that has to be damp after the previous day’s storms, with Maisie sat by him and he’s clutching on to her fur, while the dog is gently licking at his face.

“Robert?” He touches him lightly on the shoulder, heart thumping at the flinch. “Hey, it’s alright, it’s only me.”

“Thought you had a delivery.”

“I do, but you have a very persistent sister.”

“She should keep out of it.”

“She’s worried about you. Want to tell me what’s going on?” He sits beside him grimacing at the dampness. “She mentioned nightmares.”

“You don’t need to be doing this.” He pats Maisie’s head. “I’m alright love. Good girl.”

“Can’t get used to you having a dog.” He says trying to fill the silence. “She is beautiful though.”

“I…I’ve been seeing someone. To try and sort myself out. He suggested I get a dog. To get me out of the house and that.”

“Looks like she helps to me. Makes it better in the dark and the quiet?” Robert looks over, understanding crossing his face.

“Yeah. I can’t…I have to do everything in order at the right time. He said…I’m not crazy.”

“I never said you were.”

“Sometimes I think I am. I…I slept in the other day, Vic turned off my alarm, said I needed the sleep. I went a bit mad at her.”

“She understands.”

“She shouldn’t have to!” Maisie moves closer at his outburst. “Sorry.”

“Robert it’s ok to not be…you, straight away. You know how I was and that was only a few months. You’ll get there. You’re getting help. That’s a good start.”

“Listen to you.”

“Yeah well, someone helped me out once. Right prat he was.” Robert smiles and it’s the most he’s looked like himself since he came home. “You ready to go back?”

“Can we…just sit here a bit longer? I like the peace, and I’ve missed this…just talking to you.”

“Well yeah but, can we do it in the truck? My arse is freezing!” Robert laughs but he gets up and holds a hand out to Aaron.

He has work to do, he should be getting back to it, and if John calls in he’ll go mad but some things are more important.

[lulublack90]

Prompt 13 - Wolf

@wolfstarmicrofic June 13, word count 423

He’d been on the run for over a year now. He’d found and lost Peter Pettigrew, the sneaky little rat, and was now in hiding with a bloody hippogriff. His life was hard, but at least he wasn’t in Azkaban, or worse. 

He’d let a few muggles spot him far away from Hogwarts. It had been a promise he’d made to Harry, so that the security measures put in place because of him would be lifted. No school child should ever have to endure the presence of a dementor. 

He was slowly making his way south. His family owned a little house beside the coast. It was covered in so many unpalatable charms, anti-visitor jinxes and general nasty curses that if anyone got through them, he’d be happy to let them take him back to Azkaban because they would have earned it. The other important spell placed upon this and many others of the Black family’s properties was blood magic that only allowed blood relatives in or those who had been added to the guest list. But guests could also be removed. Which he intended to do as soon as he checked that the property was still usable. The only other Black family members left were Narcissa and her son, but he didn’t think they even knew about this house. His parents had bought it as a getaway place, as in when they wanted to get away from the rest of the family. He hoped it was still in good condition so he could finally stop moving. He was exhausted and wanted to be able to stay in one place for more than a day. It would be the perfect place to stay if he could make it work.  

He landed for the day, making sure Buckbeak had something to eat. He himself had a packet of sausage rolls he’d stolen from a Muggle corner shop. He devoured them all. He was just licking the crumbs from his fingers when he saw a light out of the corner of his eye. He leapt to his feet and drew his wand as the wolf Patronus emerged from the trees behind him. 

“Oh, Remus,” he croaked.

The wolf brushed against him before it opened its mouth and relayed Remus’s message. 

“New Forest. Two days. Full moon. Meet me there.” The wolf closed its mouth and looked longingly at Sirius before it faded from sight. 

“Buckbeak, we’ve got a long way to travel tonight, so make sure you get some sleep. We’re going to find Remus.” 

[mullermilkshake]

One case after another

Part 2 <- Part 3 -> Part 4

Satoru Gojo just needs a little sleep.

Summary - You are just an author wanting to put your writing out there and carry on with your life, but when two people end up murdered, things you write about seem to be more real than just pure fiction.

<<< Detective!Satoru Gojo >>>

Tags - DDDNE, Detective!Gojo, Smoking, Grahphic depictions of blood/gore and murder, body horror, decomposition, Shoko my bby, Ino my bby

<<< Master list >>>

Credit to - @404UND_ Twitter ☆ (Geto) - @maronjapan9a (Satoru)

“Gojo…” 

“Wake up man…” 

“Jesus christ- Wake up!”

Satoru Gojo shot up from his desk and banged his head on the overhanging desk lamp. “Fuck!”

Takuma Ino perched himself on his desk as Satoru rubbed the stale sleep from his eyes. “You slept here again? You should really go home and shower. It’s kind of sad.”

Satoru groaned and did his best to sit up straight and stretch as best as he could. “Yeah, I had to finalise the details of this case I just closed. I figured it was just easier to sleep here so I could speak with Nanami and go home early.”

He’d worked tirelessly over the last week, all he wanted was a little bit of paid time off and he was sure Nanami would give it to him.

Ino adjusted his position and looked away from him, his hand rested over his tack vest. “Yeah… About that.”

“Give me some good news, man. I’m too tired for this shit in the morning.” He slumped his head back on top of his folded arms.

The overhead light was too bright, the stagnant office air far too stuffy and Ino’s voice a pitch too loud. Satoru hadn’t had a solid night's sleep in two weeks and now there was something else?

“I came to wake you because there’s something Nanami asked me to ask you to go see.”

“So instead of coming to get me himself, he sends his lackey to do it for him?” Kento Nanami would be the death of him if he sent him on any more errands before a hot shower.

“It’s important. An odd homicide… you’re favourite.” He sang that last part.

And odd cases were his favourite. There was a reason Satoru’s record of arrests was perfect. Because he could see parts of a crime scene that no one else could. Sort of like a sixth sense.

He tried to ignore Ino and fall back asleep. “Not today.”

“C’mon, Nanami gave the all clear for me to come with you. We never get to partner up anymore. I heard it's particularly gruesome too. That’s like a candy shop for you.”

Satoru didn’t move.

“Let’s go!” He was shaking him now. Idiot. “We have to go before the regular beats leave their dirty paws all over the crime scene. C’mon!”

“Fine.” Satoru got up and narrowly avoided his head on the lamp again. “Fine. One scene and I’m off to bed, I just want a few hours that aren’t sitting up at my desk.”

He needed to buy a fancy new chair for his office and not that god awful sofa. Harder than rocks and smaller than a cardboard box. But first he needed his own office.

Shit. What he would have done for his own office not to get bothered by Ino day in, day out.

“Awesome, just like old times eh?” 

Way back, when Satoru belonged to part of a specialist unit. Now he was somewhat of a rogue. He performed better on his own, that way no one could slow him down and he wouldn’t need to watch out for others. It was better that way in his specialist field that he stayed on his own.

“Yeah.” But he would be lying if he said he didn’t miss it from time to time. “Anything we should know goin’ in?”

Ino kept his pace and shook his head with a quick withdrawal. “Nothing. Shoko said it would be better if we saw it when we got there.”

Wasn’t she the one for puzzles this early in the morning? “Where is it?”

They made it to the elevator and took it all the way down to the ground floor. “Some place over the other side of town, up near the lanes.”

“That narrows it down.” Satoru rifled through the pockets of his jacket and pulled out his cigarettes and put one to his lips.

He hated the taste, the horrid smell it left lingering on his clothes, but it was the only thing that seemed to help clear his mind. His mind could read a crime scene thoroughly from top to bottom in minutes. His clear mind could do it easily in under a minute. Less if he really wanted to show off. 

“She requested you by name if that is anything to go by.”

Satoru and Shoko had not been in the same room for the better part of a year, she had pursued a career in forensic pathology, and one would think they would have crossed paths more being in their respective fields. Most of the time she was already gone when Satoru got there.

Life just went on and things got in the way. Part of him looked forward to seeing an old friend. The other half was intrigued by the fact she would still be there waiting for him.

Gruesome. What an interesting word. “Did Shoko say that it was gruesome? Or did Nanami?”

“Shoko did.”

That meant something entirely in comparison to Nanami. If the forensic pathologist was using a descriptor such as that for the scene, then it would have been more than just bloody. Satoru went into the scene with a mind to prepare for something worse than the town had seen for some time.

And of course, he was right on it.

A large house off of the lanes, big and obvious enough that the occupant wanted to hide in the trees totally oblivious to the house with more money than they knew what to do with, stuck out like a sore thumb against the greenery.

A house with a dead body inside.

“Holy shit.” Ino’s mouth dropped.

Satoru was already reading the place as he stepped in and saw what Shoko was talking about.

No mud tracks. 

Dust lines are non existent 

She’s still fully clothed. 

“I need everybody out for the time being.” Satoru pulled out a pair of gloves from the little pack in his jacket pocket.

Shoko was right over by the body taking photographs, the flash filling up the entire corner of the far east wall. Everybody, besides two people slowly filtered out of the room, slower than Satoru would have liked, trudging and dragging their feet past him with looks full of ruffled feathers and annoyance.

“Always need to command a room, right Gojo?” Shoko had her back to him. She held the camera out to one of the other men and they promptly left with it in hand.

“You know me. I prefer being one of the only guys in the room.”

“A big headed one at that.” It was like they had picked up where they left off.

“Maybe. But you did call for me . It kinda gives me the right to have a big head, doesn't it?”

“Yeah, something I’m starting to regret.”

The body was an odd one, and it continued growing in that oddity the closer Satoru got to it. But, it truly was gruesome.

Shoko finally faced him, leaning against the wall in ther white overalls and mask, a tilted head in amusement. “So… What do you think?”

“Well, whoever it was, was already inside, they didn’t break in. This was for control, not for sexual gratification and they cleaned up afterwards. You’ll need ultraviolet light to look for evidence, but I doubt you’ll find anything.”

“Cleaned up?” Ino came up alongside him and knelt down. “There’s no signs of wiped blood smears and I don’t smell any cleaning products.”

“There’s no dust lines. It would have taken time to clean up, but they cleaned up all of the surfaces too so it stopped the dust in the room from being disturbed. Dust can gather very quickly, especially in a room with so much stuff in it.”

The room was packed out with carpets, ornate sofa throws and pillows, the entire place was a dust factory, yet there wasn’t any signs of dust anywhere, except from the slither of sunlight poking through the closed curtain.

The killer used the large open floor length windows to funnel the smell and pungent chemicals out to nullify that theory. Quite clever.

“What about her?” Shoko nodded to the body.

The body was posed, like a doll, sat up along the chaise lounge in a seductive pose to inhibit a reaction from officers that this was for sexual gratification. But it was not.

There was no bruising about the neck, eyes or mouth meaning she didn’t die from asphyxiation, but rather the large gaping hole in her chest. Even an idiot would have been able to figure that one out.

It was the fact that her body was still entirely dressed.

This had been thought through far more than most scenes Satoru had stepped foot into. The most riveting part being her eyes were missing and stuffed full of organic matter. Like leaves? Grass clippings?

So was her mouth, like they were put there to keep her quiet. Upon further inspection, Satoru noticed no bruising or creasing on the matter which could indicate that it was all put there after she died.

Though there were blood drips down her cheeks when her eyes were removed, the killer made a conscious choice not to clean them up like the rest of her body, which by now, looked spotless.

“Who the hell does something like this? Shoko, do we know who lives at this address?” Ino got back up and approached her, pulling out his little notebook.

Satoru didn’t need a notebook. His mind was his notebook.

“Yeah, It’s-” Satoru faded them out and concentrated.

This was a well integrated woman. Popular. Well received. By the awards nearest to the kitchen, she was an accomplished author. Dark fiction going by the scripture on the bottom, the many lined photographs hanging on the walls and over various surfaces containing mostly dogs and friends.

Well received but not fully accepted going by the document stuck to the refrigerator with the wine bottle magnet. A messy divorce? Or a business deal? He wasn’t sure.

It was clear there was a party last night based off of the overflowing trash can full of red wine bottles and soft cheeses left out on the counter top. 

Satoru looked further, still remaining by the body but observing everywhere else but the body. Confetti under the sofa and parts clung to the longer fibres on the shag carpet.

“Any news of the party last night? Were there any complaints; has anyone started to contact those who were here?”

“A party? Uh,” Ino rifled through a booklet Shoko had given him. “There was a party the night before, around thirty people came… they were celebrating something… uh.. They came from somewhere, but we’re still actively getting information.”

The night before? “Good. Have them question everyone and send the minutes of each call to my desk.” Satoru stood up and moved away from the body.

There was not one hint of bleach or cleaner in the wood, not even the fabrics. Satoru smelt everything. Unless, she was brought here after death, but it could not have been far.

“Has anyone checked the surrounding area for blood splatter?”

Shoko nodded. “They got nothing, even the cadaver dog turned up empty.”

That didn’t sound right. “Time of death?”

“I put it around midnight the night before, to two o’clock yesterday morning.”

A two hour time window.

How did no one see if there was a party

Satoru doubted whoever was still here either with the barrage of police vehicles at the bottom of the hill lighting the whole driveway like a christmas tree.

“Someone local maybe. If they didn’t kill her and bring her here, how the hell did he not get caught by the others?”

Ino shrugged his shoulders and wandered into the kitchen, pulling away the document papers in his gloved hand. “Maybe they were drunk, thought she was asleep or something. What makes you think he did it where there were people present?”

No. No, that wasn’t right. “Whoever this was, had to sit and hold her like this until rigour mortis set in so the body held its shape.”

Shoko seemed to agree. “Rigour mortis is precise enough. If she died at midnight at the earliest, whoever killed her would have needed to sit there with her for at least six hours, then clean the entire place, leave no smell and get out without being caught by anyone who came knocking the next day. But by now, rigour mortis would have softened her up.”

But there was still no smell which led Satoru to believe that there might have been some sort of embalming solution inside her.

“Oh that’s right.” It seemed Ino was on the same page too. “Rigour mortis disappears twenty four hours after death. So maybe the time of death is wrong and she was killed last night. So when she softens up, we’ll know when she died definitively and piece together the timeline…”

“The estimated time of death isn’t wrong. Whoever did this had plenty of time to get everything cleaned. They mustn’t have been disturbed.” 

If the killer did all that, then Satoru needed to find out when everyone left the house, but as of right now, “Everyone who attended this party is a suspect. We need information on all of them.”

“Sounds good; see I missed this… us guys all together again solving crimes.”

Satoru leaned against the wall and thought hard. What even was the motive? There was always a motive, always a reason despite the most depraved crimes.

Ino took himself off to the next room as his phone rang. It was probably Nanami giving him some other boring job to do, though Satoru would class this as an interesting day. Well worth the lack of sleep.

His head was still clear. The most important part.

“So how you been holding up, Shoko-”

“Uh, Gojo?” Ino popped his head round the corner.

“God you can really read the room, idiot.” Shoko climbed to her feet and adjusted her overalls.

“What is it?”

“There’s another case, you should really take this.”

Good grief. Now Nanami was dropping stuff on Satoru’s lap as well? “I’m good, thanks.”

“It’s a hit and run.”

“That’s not my area.” Satoru waved him off, his tiredness setting in. “Tell Nanami to get someone else to study tyre tracks and skid marks.”

“You’re gonna want to take this. Shoko you too… It’s just down the road aways, we could walk there actually.”

Jesus christ. “One more,” Satoru raised his voice so he knew Nanami could hear him over the phone line. “Then I’m taking paid time off or you’ll run my ass into the ground!”

“Uh… Yes sir; yes- yes I’ll tell him…. Gojo, he wants a report on his desk after this too, then he said you can negotiate paid time off. A-and he said stop sleeping in your office, you know how he feels about overtime.”

That was laughable. “My whole life is overtime, man. Let’s get this over with then.”

By the time they had reached the next crime scene, Satoru had smoked two more cigarettes. Shoko swiped the smoke wisps away and upturned her lip. “God those are so strong, why do you smoke those?”

“You smoke too, or have you tried giving up again?” Ten months went by quickly.

“I do, but those aren’t menthol, why don’t you smoke menthol?”

Satoru shrugged with no care and stubbed the end out on the floor. “I don’t like the taste of these ones, let alone that minty crap.”

“Guys? Doesn't this look similar to someone we know?”

Satoru looked near the side of the road along the lane where a body was. An outdoor crime scene yielded different results to those indoors. The environment could wash things away, indirectly hide evidence and just be a bastard to work with, even with Satoru’s eyes on the case.

A crime scene was never a two dimensional affair. There were the walls and ceilings to work with, but outside with the elements, it was genuinely more case by case.

This body. This defied all two dimensional logic. “I wonder how our friend got all the way up in that tree there.”

It was as though he was hovering with his head all caved in like that, the only way really from this distance Satoru knew who he was looking at, was by the way his genitals blew about in the breeze through the trees, his broad frame held up by nature.

The tree was embracing the body, sort of placed like a crucifixion, but it wasn’t what stumped him that drew him closer, that he didn't even study the heavily leaf ladened floor at his feet.

Red roses, stuffed into his mouth and his side where a large portion of his waist should have been, where observing now, was in a pile on the floor along with his intestines like a long dodgy balloon string.

“Yummy…” Shoko’s humour was ever present. “Better get the camera out.”

This bared a striking resemblance to the woman in that house not half a mile away. Now, Satoru could not say at all if they were linked, not definitively until the forensics came back, and there was more readily available information to him.

Hang on… “Why was this called in as a hit and run?”

“They found blood splatters off on the road and linked it here.”

So the man was hit by a car, then dragged all the way through the woods and strung up like a decorative christmas turkey. Two in one murder, or a planned calculated move.

Curious.

Calculated. Or maybe it was last minute and rushed? No, not rushed for the time it would have taken to put him up there. 

“There could be two killers?” Ino sat on the same page, flicking through his little notebook and turned to Satoru with a small subtle glint in his eye.

“Go on.”

“If the rigour mortis is anything to go by, then whoever did the lady in the house would have time. It could be the same person a day apart, but I’m thinking there's two people, because, how else would someone get that guy up there, he’s easily… what, two hundred pounds, two fifty soaking wet is my guess.”

Maybe Satoru had actually rubbed off on him all this time. “What if this guy was done after the woman on the same morning? It’s still tight. If there was a party not half a mile that way, then he’d have to avoid the cars coming down the lane. So If I was going to kill two people at the same time, I'd do it in the early morning when most people are asleep.”

Shoko disagreed. “I’m certain that this guy was done last night. Much later after that woman.”

As soon as they found out the time when the autopsies were finished, then it would spell things much clearer.

“I’ll put a rush on the call backs or something to get a basic timeframe.” Ino then rushed off to speak with another officer along with the big old smile on his face.

“What do you make of this, Shoko?” Satoru’s arms were folded, bored now that the initial shock had worn off.

“It reminds me of something, but I can’t put my finger on it.” Her little tool kit was out, dusting the man's toes for prints. “I’ll remember after the autopsies I think.”

“How so?”

It was like she was stuck for words. “I’m not sure. Back at the house, she sort of looked like a doll. That’s the only way I could describe it, her skin was way too smooth for how her decomposition record is.”

“A doll?” His eyes wandered up to the body above him. He sure didn’t look like a doll, but the roses were a nice touch.

“Yeah, like I’ve read it somewhere, in an article or something.” Carefully folding the clear plastic over itself, she tucked it into her little belt and pulled out a pair of long needle nose tweezers.

“I’ll keep that in mind.” It was time he left back to the station for that report.

“One last thing before you go…” She yanked her glove off, rummaged through a pocket of her overalls and presented Satoru with a pack of cigarettes. “Smoke menthol for goodness sake, it might save your life. And get some sleep, you look like shit.”

And here he thought it was going to be work related. “Thanks for being such a considerate friend, Shoko. Don’t be a stranger now. Let’s go out for dinner sometime after all this blows over, I get the feeling we’re goin’ to see a lot of each other.”

“You’re buying though.”

“Don’t I always?” He grinned at her and left after she turned her head back towards her work.

Ino was already waiting at the car for him and upon leaving and reaching the station, Satoru came to the conclusion that it was two different people. He just wasn’t sure whether they were linked and knew each other.

Or there was a possibility, albeit rare and exceptional, that there were two separate and completely unlinked murderers in the immediate area who knew nothing about the other.

The latter didn’t seem too likely.

Still, he wouldn’t jump to conclusions until the facts were all put in front of him. And just like that, some of them were. A sheet of paper with the minutes of one of the phone calls made to the attendees from the party that night.

“Seems like she was definitely popular.” It took the interviewee ten whole minutes to calm down before continuing the phone call after learning of the woman’s death.

“Yeah, well liked and everything. Apparently she attended an event that night. An author’s ball thing- I dunno. And they all left after to go to hers.”

“An event…” Satoru studied the words in front of him. 

[All of us came from that event to celebrate the nominees and those who won awards… Oh my god. Oh my god.]

[Did everyone who was invited go?]

[Well… Some people weren’t invited. But I don’t know if they came anyway, we all got really drunk, we were celebrating. Oh god… I don’t even know where she went off too most of the time, we were all having such a good time. Oh my god! (Sobbing.) This is horrible…]

“So she wasn’t sure who came then?” It sounded utterly simple what the next move was. “Ino, get me a full roster of everyone who attended that event, staff, cooks, valet and an entire guest list… Also see if there’s anywhere nearby that might have security cameras we can check for that hit and run and try to identify him.”

“Sure thing.”

Someone in that list would be one of the two people they were looking for, in a rare circumstance, the only person they were looking for. And that footage, if it existed, was paramount, even if it was just a few minute little pixels in the corner, anything was better than nothing.

And when Satoru picked up a scent that made his intuition go haywire, he wouldn’t stop until he caught whatever was giving it off.

Because Satoru couldn’t leave well enough alone and strove to deliver justice to keep his record perfect. No one was going to escape him.

Though he hoped he could escape the station without giving that stupid report to Nanami.

He didn’t bet on it though.

Part 2 <- Part 3 -> Part 4

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DISCLAIMER - I do not own any of the characters of Jujutsu Kaisen. This is a work of fan fiction and is absolutely not representative of the views or intentions of the original creator(s).

The oc side characters and advanced plot is my own work. A gift for @vampir-queen and original idea for this fic is their's. Cross posted from my AO3

Also please don’t post any of my work, thank you!

[julietcpulet]

honestly at this point i can not wait for this arc to be over the anime was doing so well but the changes are honestly destroying my enjoyment of the anime, maybe after this season ends i may change my mind, but right now i just feel so dissapointed.

i mean i like some bits but the way the anime goes about downplaying the importance of jinshi and maomao's relationship in favour of loulan and maomao. Am i wrong for feeling this way? i mean ship whatever the hell you want but it not hard to kept he anime in line with what happens in the novel.

i don't know maybe i need to take a break from the anime until this season finishes.

No, I don’t think you’re wrong for feeling that way. To me it’s a deliberate choice for whatever reason on the animators or writers part to have a different tone to this half of the season and honestly I feel like it isn’t a good one. While they’ve technically stayed true to the overall construct of the plot itself, they’ve lingered in places they didn’t have to, focused on characters that overall in a 14+ novel series are fairly minor and definitely put Shisui at the forefront at the expense of Jinshi and Maomao.

I’ve had a tough time watching the last few episodes and getting the same enjoyment myself. There’s a reason people enjoyed it so much before. Jinshi is a likeable character, his and Maomao’s interactions are fun and have a special sort of dynamic to them that they don’t have with anyone else. While the Shi clan arc is important as it winds up a lot of loose plot ends I feel there was a way to do it without some of the filler they’ve inserted and the emphasis on characters and relationships that don’t call for it. There was so much to the end of this season I was looking forward to that has been spoiled and unfortunately I think others in the fandom share that sentiment.

[thosefaroffconstellations]

Do you think Ashkenacentrism is a problem in the frum world? I get the impression many Orthodox Sephardim and Mizrachim today wear traditional Ashkenazi clothing, speak Yiddish, and take on Ashkenazi minhagim that had to precedent in the Sephardic or Mizrachi community. Not that there's anything wrong with Ashkenazi traditions, but is it at the cost of other traditions?

Oh boy do I,

Okay so first I’m gonna share the general stuff then I have a personal story I want to share.

So there’s two major elements that I feel play into this. There’s a big misconception, not only in the frum world but in the Jewish and even non jewish world as a whole that if you are religious that means that you’re ashkenaz. And so there’s this expectation put onto people to act and do things a certain way. I’ve had people be genuinely shocked that I’m fully religious yet Sephardi. I guess you could argue that it’s part of tzniut, to blend in and not stand out too much, but I think people who argue that forget that we arnt supposed to hide ourselves and our personhood to be tzniut. Not only are you allowed to but you’re supposed to always maintain individuality.

Now, I want to preface the next element by saying that I do not want to hear from anyone in this posts notes that this is an issue that shouldn’t be spoken about now or ever. I’m a firm believer that even if things are not good they still need to be communicated because otherwise no progress will be made. Do with that what you will, quite frankly I can’t stop you if you do argue with that but I do think it’s an incredibly naive and quite frankly dangerous argument.

There is in the Jewish community as a whole a major, and I mean major problem with racism and colorism against Sephardim and mizrahim. And I don’t mean casual racism. No I mean reeducation schools, camps we were forced to live in, and kidnapped babies and children kind of racism. My own grandfather was forced to go to a reeducation school to learn to be “civilized” by Ashkenazim. I have family members I will never meet because they were stolen from their families. This was a very very real thing until recently. And that left as you might expect a huge amount of trauma to come out from that. I have uncles and aunts who literally pretend they’re Ashkenazim, and will get incredibly upset if they’re referred to as Sephardi because of the trauma. They’ve changed their names, they do everything to try to stay pale, everything is done Ashkenaz because of it.

For a lot of people adopting ashkenaz customs is a means to stay safe. There may not be as big of a need for it anymore but trauma like this never really goes away. You’re taught to blend in to survive. Act “civilized” because we know what happens when we “arnt.”

Now that isn’t to say that you can’t learn to be proud of being Sephardi. When I was a kid (around 9-10) I went to a normal religious school for a few years before being switched back to homeschooling. I was one of the only Sephardi girls not only in my class but in the school as a whole. For the sake of numbers, we were a class of about 30 girls and there were only 3?4? Sephardim, one of whom was mixed. From day one I was taken out of class every day to learn to “pray properly” [ashkenaz], I was told I had to read Hebrew like Ashkenazim, and so on. I was expected to straight up pretend I was Ashkenaz. Luckily for me, I was a stubborn girl who wouldn’t change for nobody and it only took a few weeks before I started pretending I couldn’t see the teachers try and pull me out of class and I’d just continued as I was. The teachers may not have been happy but Hashem knows I was and to me that was the most important. From what I remember over the course of fourth grade, me and the other Sephardi girls had as serious conversation about it as you can expect for girls our age. Which is to say we had actual debates about it over recess and lunch for months. People didn’t want to call attention to themselves, but seriously sometimes all people need is to see that it’s okay to do things the way you do before they feel comfortable doing the same. By the next year, me and every Sephardi girl was praying and reading nussak sfarad.

So do I think ashkecentrism is a problem? Yes. But I think the less time spent arguing with it and the more time actually learning to be proud of who you are and how you do things the better things will be. Or at least that’s what I’ve observed.

Honestly there’s so much more I can add, but this is getting a little too long as is, maybe I’ll make a part two if people want to know more of my thoughts on this.