#beware the tags at the beginning

[the-bear-and-his-sunbird]

The scared boy and lonely girl (Ch. 1- The scared boy)

I finally did it ! I wrote my first Emmrook Fic!! Thank you and the biggest shoutout to @dymme who has worked her ass off as my Beta Reader. Without you, this would not exist.

(Also check out her own Rook "Maggs" and Emmrich. They have a wildly different Dynamic but I love it so much!)

Also @mosoderbergh wanted to get tagged as soon as this is finished. Have several pages of this lovely man getting taken care of.

Read either on Ao3 or under the cut.

Chapters: 1/3 Fandom: Dragon Age: The Veilguard (Video Game), Dragon Age (Video Games) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Emmrich Volkarin/Rook, Emmrich Volkarin/Original Female Character(s), Rook/Emmrich Volkarin Characters: Emmrich Volkarin, Rook - Character, Rook Ingellvar Additional Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Emmrich has a breakdown, spoilers for late game, Dragon Age: The Veilguard Spoilers, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Happy Ending, Implied Past Violence, Post-Mortem scars, Older Man/Younger Woman, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, Siobhan will take care of her man, How often can I make Siobhan comfort Emmrich in one fic, the answer is yes, Implied Anxiety, Post Fade, Siobhan matches his freak Series: Part 1 of The beetle on the lilac Summary:

"She won’t have it. Because she sees the familiar flicker in his eyes: the frightened boy ghosting around in his skull. Scared of loss. Scared of being left alone with nothing but grief and his fear of death as his companions. And no matter how much he tries to hide it and fall back into his habit of taking care of her, she sees him. She will always seem him."

After escaping the Fade, Siobhan "Rook" Ingellvar finds her beloved Emmrich Volkarin distraught. She decides its time to care for him, as he always did for her.

Siobhan knows fear.

The little demon that sits inside her ribcage and shakes her very core. As a Watcher, she knows the fear of death, as the little child that grew up in the crypts, she knows the fear of loneliness and as the “Rook” against Elgar’nan and Ghilan'nain, she knows the fear of regrets. Regret eats away at you. Like its some huge monstrosity that eats and eats and eats, always ready to remind you what could have been if you’d have been smarter and faster and someone entirely different.

The Fade prison is that monster incarnate. Trying to eat her alive, while she screams. She does not truly know where she mustered the strength to find her way through the grey haze, but something spurred her on, always at the back of her mind: there are people that need her, that care for her and that she cares for in return. Her friends. Especially those that she lost. She tries not to scream as she thinks of brave and kind Harding, as she prayes for Bellara to be still alive and to hold on, hopes that Lucanis dead body was only a trick formed by Solas.

She hopes that there are still people waiting for her: Her friends. And Emmrich. There are words that need to be said. About how she does not care about his age. What are twenty years when the person you waited for your entire life stands right in front of you? The night before the battle she wrote him a letter, in case that she wouldn‘t make it out alive and hoped that he would forgive her.

But she is alive and she needs him to hear those from herself. That she loves him, will always love him. So she fights and fights and grieves and cries and finally meets Varric. Her mentor in all of this from the very beginning. And she lets go. Lets go of the false memories in her head, let’s go of her mentor, let’s go of her regret about things that cannot be changed anymore.

Determination and hope and relief fills when she hears her friends' voices, hears them call her name. There is a tear in the prison and hands that grab her from beyond, pulling and yanking. They care about me, she thinks. I fight for them and they fight for me and they love me. They love me. I get to see Emmrich again. I get to hold him again. Please let me hold him again.

She pushes herself against the wall, as several hands pull, and finally leaves the Fade. The first thing she sees on this side of the world, in a world filled with so many vibrant colors and smells, is Emmrich’s face. Wide-eyed and beautiful, he stands there ready to catch her. And he does. He always does. She collapses in his arms and cries. For a while, there is nothing but her sobs and Emmrich hugging her so very tight. But she doesn’t care because he is here. Alive. Somehow they made it.

Her little demon in her chest tries to rear its ugly head, trying to suffocate her. What if this is another dream? it whispers urgently, but she can’t let herself listen to it. Not when she is finally out of the Fade and the cheers of her team are echoing around her. So, Siobhan forces herself to breathe (four in, hold, four out, hold) and comes back to her surroundings. As her breathing calms she notices that Emmrich isn’t just holding tight. He is clinging to her like his live depends on it. His slender arms shake as they press her body into his and as her face gets pressed into his chest she can feel his heart racing. “Emmrich?” A question and a plea.

He let’s go just enough to grab her face and searches for some confirmation that only she can give. But what exactly, she doesn’t know. Blinking her tears away she asks again, “Emmrich?” His lips purse, but whatever he seeks seems to fade into the background.

“You are with us again, Siobhan. The nightmare is over,” he says.” Are you alright?” She nods weakly and he pulls her up in a single swift motion, holding her steady as her legs wobble. There are loud cheers again and someone pats her back, hard. Probably Taash. Then she is pulled into the most awkward hug, that only Neve could give. The whole situation is a blur of hands and voices, but one thing stays prominent: Emmrich doesn’t let her go. His hands are always somewhere on her body: her shoulders, her hand, the small of her back.

It’s Neve who makes the final call to fall back to the Lighthouse. Siobhan grasps for words to explain what happened, to ask the questions she dares not to ask. For a second there is another hand on her shoulder and Davrins voice breaks through: “We can talk later.” And then his hand is gone. Emmrich remains close to her as they make their way back to the closest Eluvian. They are in Arlathan, she realises,  and Siobhan revels in the sounds around her. Both from the nature and  people around her.

From their group, everyone but Harding and Bellara have made it back. Siobhan shakes her head and tries to focus. Taash and Neve are in the front, Lucanis dips in and out of her vision keeping watch, and Davrin is guarding their tail with Assan flying above. Emmrich is so close beside her that it seems like he wants to melt into her skin. His slender fingers, usually gently interlaced with hers, now hold on to her with the strength of someone who is trying not to drown, his hands bloody from gripping the lifeline. Her bloodied hand, the lifeline. For him.

An unsettling thought shivers up her spine and whispers in her ear: “How long have you really been gone? What made him hold on like this?” Siobhan shudders and pushes the thought away.

“Darling, are you alright?” Emmrich asks, voice strained. The route they are taking is even, weaving through the golden trees that shine so beautifully in the warm light of the setting sun. He calls me darling. The realization hits her like lightning in her chest. After their argument she had been worried about him. About his fear of death. About their relationship and if he wants to go on with her. Relief floods in the hollowed out path of her sorrow and makes her feel weightless.

She nods and gives him a weak smile. “Don’t worry, Emmrich. Just taking in everything that happened.”

Emmrich eyes hover over her warily and a moment passes before he nods. “If you say so, my dear.”

But Siobhan knows in her bones that he doesn’t believe her. Had he found her letter? She had instructed Bellara to tell Emmrich about it before they departed for Tearstone Island. But with Bellara being dead- Gone, not dead. Not until I see a body- it is difficult to imagine what has transpired. Her head is filled with thousands of questions that chant in unison with the voices of her friends. As her chest beginning to feel tight again, she forces a determined expression on her face and instead of breaking apart, she tells them about the fade.

About Solas, about how she saw Harding and Bellara and Varric.

Varric.

“You didn’t know?” Lucanis asks, voice dripping with horror.

“No.” she answers, voice flat.

“Mierda, I’m sorry. If we had known-”

“I know.” She notices how sharp her tone is and gently adds: “Don’t apologize for something that wasn’t your fault.”

“What did Solas do to trap you anyway? Must have been quite the thing to fool you.” Neve adds, trying to steer the conversation away from the topic. Siobhan has been mesmerized by Neves perceptiveness since the very beginning. Now she could kiss her because Neve swiftly moves the attention away from the tears in the corner of Siobhans eyes. The questions hangs heavy between them anyway.

Siobhan feels Emmrichs eyes on her without looking. Why did you leave? she imagines them saying, Why did you leave me? She has no strength to look and see if her worries are correct. Instead she settles for softly caressing his iron-grip fingers. They tighten even more.

A sigh escapes her, even as it feels like there is no air in her lungs left. She chokes out, “Solas tricked me. After Harding… died. He showed me an illusion of Lucanis. Dead. Then I was in the fade. Alone with my regrets.” Heavy silence fills the open space. Eyes turn to her in honest horror but Siobhan feels too tired for whisking up a way to catch her group emotionally. She can figure out a way to regroup the team as soon as her head stops aching so much. As soon as she doesn‘t smell of blood anymore. “I’ll be alright. We get Bellara back and we do whatever it takes to take down Elgar’nan. Let's just get back to the Lighthouse first.”

Her voice is strong. Stronger than she feels anyway. Lucanis nods, his eyes flickering back and forth between her and Emmrich, and lets it go, picking up pace to join Taash at the front. Brave Taash, shouldering the loss of Harding with the same stoic silence they fight Venatori. Siobhan makes a mental note to check in on them later.

But first she has to talk to Emmrich, who, despite adding to the conversation around him every now and then, is uncharacteristically silent. The rest of the trip is mostly Neve and Davrin roughly updating her of what had been done in the time she was gone.

How long have you been gone? This sounds so long.

With every new bit of nformation, she feels more tired, making the way to the Lighthouse seem so very long; yet she pushes forward with the same determination that got her through the fade. Her friends, the promise of a better future, and Emmrich. Always Emmrich; He’s alive, he’s alive, thank the Maker he’s alive. As soon as they reach the last Eluvian, Siobhan wants to cry from relief.

The lighthouse is silent, as if grieving itself, but Siobhan can feel the same warmth, the same silent joy emitting from its core like it did so many times before. As if welcoming them home. When they gather in the library, Siobhan dismisses the group, telling them to rest. Partly for them and partly for herself. There is an understanding in their eyes. Everyone is exhausted, both physically and emotionally and the last battle still awaits them. Silently, fingers interlaced, Emmrich and Siobhan watch the others leave. As soon as the door to the courtyard finally closes, Siobhan turns her gaze to Emmrich.

It’s their first time alone after their argument, when her beloved was scared of his age and their future. And even if she wants nothing more than to fall and break, as soon as she meets his eyes, truly and fully this time, she knows that has to wait.

Emmrich is never truly silent. If he is not talking about a theory that piqued his interest or some more practical aspect of his work, he hums or mutters or tuts under his breath. His mind racing in search for new answers, curiosity and will to learn pushing him to new limits. The swiftness of his wit always as dependable as steadiness of his hands.

She is scared. Because right now he is neither talking nor steady. Silence cloaks him like a heavy shadow. His hands tremble around hers; their movement grown from a slight tremor at their first touch to an earthquake as he covers her hands with his. But it is his eyes that break something in her. The terrified eyes of a boy who was forced to wear loss like a shroud around his shoulders since he was so very young. So she pushes her own fear away and gently strokes his hands, before carefully unraveling herself from his grasp.

“Emmrich, my love, are you alright?” she says, soft but steady.

“Yes, my dear. I- I am quite alright,” his voice falters as he says it. Emmrich must know too, because he clears his throat and tries again. “Why do you ask?”

Hot tears run over her hand as she gently cups his cheeks. He leans into her touch ever so slightly, eyes still fixated on her, a forced smile upon his lips.

“My love, you are crying.” Siobhan murmurs as she cradles his head in her hands.

Like a beetles wing fluttering against a brittle wall, his resolve breaks.

Emmrich grabs her by the shoulder and pulls her close in one single motion, their bodies crushing together. His arms circle around her in the same fashion his hands held her before: with the conviction that if he lets go, she will be gone. She mirrors him in this. Siobhan grabs him tight and does not let go, as Emmrich sobs into her shoulder, one of his hands shooting up to grab the back of her head pulling her even closer.

“I thought I lost you, Siobhan.” he cries, grabbing her even tighter. “Forgive me, darling. Oh, my darling. Don’t ever leave me like that again.” Another sob shakes him. “Don’t ever leave.” 

“I won’t. I am here. I’ve got you,” she coos, “We’re safe.”

As Emmrichs legs give in, she guides them both to the floor. It is not graceful, and Siobhan feels the impact painfully on her knees, and yet she stays, murmuring sweet nothings as she rocks him gently from side to side. He switches between breathless apologies and quick kisses to her cheek, her neck. Where does his body begin, where does hers end? Does it even matter?

After a while, he buries his face in her hair and just breathes. Siobhan waits until he stops crying, and then some more, before she pulls back to look at his face. His eyes are swollen and red, matching the flush on his cheeks. His hair is tousled. As she watches him, Siobhan notices that tears and snot have mixed in his slightly too long beard, which sticks out from his dark, hastily shaved stubble. Siobhan wipes away some of the snot-tear mixture, which earns her a flicker of disapproval and something akin to embarrassment, as she wipes it off on her clothes. She pays it no mind. She has touched worse things in her time as a Watcher. Siobhan smiles warmly at him, “Let’s get you cleaned up, shall we?”

She rises her feet with a slight wobble, pulling him up with her. “Will you let me take care of you?” she asks, carefully.

He blinks slowly at her before answering, “What?”

“Will you let me take care of you?” She repeats, making sure to speak slow and steady, trying to pierce through the fog that surrounds him.

“I should be taking care of you.” his voice, gruff from crying, wavers slightly. He tries to put on his usually controlled and charming demeanor, which falls utterly flat at the sight in front of her: His vest is wrongly buttoned under his armor and hair that was pulled back just enough to give the pretense of put-togetherness this morning has fallen into complete disarray. His face is marked by the river of tears that surely has made its way onto her own armor.

Even like this, he looks beautiful.

In her chest, something simultaneously blooms and aches. “No, you should not.” she states more bluntly than she intends to. As his eyes widen, she is quick to add: “You’re always comforting me. From the very first moment I met you, without fail, even if you didn’t know you were doing it: You were always there for me.”

She gazes into his eyes and hopes that without saying, he understands the worry that she feels about him, the grief at having thought of losing him and the wish to be the one he can hold onto; the one he can let himself rest with. “Let me do the same for you tonight.” She sees him swallow hard. Once, twice. Seemingly fighting against something buried deep within him. An eternity seems to pass before he gives a sharp nod.

“Thank you.” she says quietly and starts moving.

He follows her up without hesitation but while his hand still holds firmly on to her, it feels less desperate. Siobhan marks that as a small win.

When they enter the community bath a few minutes later, Siobhan has quickly gathered all his toiletries, morning robe and two nightgowns from Emmrichs room. She doesn’t like to admit it, but the thought of letting his hand go or going to her own wretched room to retrieve her nightdress made her stomach churn. Emmrich either didn’t seem to notice or didn’t mind her stealing his stuff.

A quick scan around the big room tells her that their friends are tactful or simply distracted enough to give them space. Still, she lets out a relieved sigh. “Seems like we have the space to ourselves.” she announces, arms spreading wide before falling awkwardly to her sides. Her fingers start drumming on her legs.

Emmrich only nods but says nothing, his mind seemingly somewhere else. Her brow furrows.

While the bathroom has a sauna and several showers, Siobhan always preferred the pools. The water is always perfectly warm, probably lighthouse magic, like the ever hot enough oven in the kitchen area and the various places to sit, make it a wonderful place to relax. And in that same vein, absolutely perfect for her endeavor. She lays a hand on his lower back, balancing her goods with the other and softly nudges him to the seats nearest to the water. Mirrors with golden inlays and various shelves and nooks for storage blend naturally into the white marble walls of the bathhouse.

Emmrich wanders over to one of the seats and begins unbuttoning his waistcoat without thinking. Siobhan sets down the clothes and begins spreading the various filigree glass bottles. Right now, she tries to tame the beast of fear and grief, so she can be a rock for the man she loves most in this world and beyond. So, she focuses on keeping her movements controlled and slow, talking softly to Emmrich about what she is doing. As she turns around, she sees him folding his waistcoat, his hazel eyes trained on her movements, face unreadable. With a clink, the last bottle is set upon the hard floor.

Siobhan rises and walks over to him, setting her fingers on his garments. Button by button she slowly unravels his shirt. When the last one pops open, she slides the garment down off his shoulders and presses a tender kiss to the exposed skin. She stills as Emmrich moves to kiss her head, lingering in the movement. As she looks down, she sees that his hands hover in front of the blood crusted fabric of her armor.

A look into his eyes tells her what she needs to know: The fear of this being just another hazy dream that the morning light will steal away, like all the memories of the loved ones he has lost along the way. It is the same mournful look he had when he asked her about her thoughts concerning his parents wishes.

How many nights have you had that dream with me? she wonders, How many times did you wake up, expecting to find me next to you, only to have your hand meet empty sheets? Her heart hurts yet again as she raises her eyes to meet his and finds her answer.

Too long, my dear.

Siobhan takes his hands, taking the time to kiss them again and again and again, only stopping to slip his rings from his fingers and setting them upon his folded clothes. She continues with his gloves, which she puts neatly next to his rings. When that is done, she straightens and raises her hands to his neck, pulling him toward her.

“I am here,” She simply says, as their foreheads connect, “I won’t leave you again.”

Moments later her armor falls to the floor, untangled by Emmrichs nimble hands. They spent the time unbuttoning and untying any remaining items of clothing on their bodies without talking. Shedding the items of clothing like the skin of a serpent.

When they are both finally naked, they set off towards the warm pool. The warmth of the bath is a welcome feeling on Siobhan's skin and she sighs as she lets herself sink in the water. Emmrich follows right behind her.

As soon as he is seated, he pulls her wordlessly into his lap and holds her tight to his chest. With a bit of wriggling she manages to turn around and straddles him with both her legs firmly pressed against his tighs In different circumstances, this position would make her melt in his hands. But she simply grabs his various lotions and, after properly wetting his hair, starts massaging a shampoo, which emits a strong herbal scent, into his hair.

Emmrich relaxes visibly into her hands, his arms dropping to settle around her waist, closes his eyes and sighs. Siobhan proceeds slowly and full of intent. Right now, there is nothing better than just being in the moment with him.

Since she had gotten to know him, she had been mesmerized by the singular dark strand that floats in the grey starlight-sea that is his hair. She twirls it gently between her fingers, watching it reflect the light, sifting through the individual strands as if swimming through the night sky. He is the star that guides her to safety, the one light to follow home into his waiting arms.

On an impulse she kisses his hair and promptly regrets it, as shampoo enters her mouth. Emmrich chuckles. Sputtering she decides to leave the kisses for later.

When she is finished and looking for a small bowl to wash it out, she catches Emmrich watching her through half open eyes, the shadow of a smile dancing on his lips. Yet there is a certain edge to it. Siobhan boops his nose playfully, “Close your eyes, I need to pour some water over you.”

He complies. She nods contently and reaches for the bowl, filling it quickly up with warm water. As she moves to pour it over him, one hazel eye peeks up at her.

Suddenly she remembers the day he showed her his view of the fade. How interlaced with wonder and intimacy it was. And how he made her heart flutter when he told her to take a breath.

Siobhan does her best to mimic his voice, “Ah, ah. Take a breath. Slow. Deep.”

Another disapproving look, “Darling, this is hardly fair. Could you keep your eyes away from such beauty, when it sits right in front of you?” he cocks his head toward his shoulder slightly.

He is a very bad liar. Siobhan knows that, while he jokes with her, there is something eating up his insides and if she could, she would take all the pain away from him. But right now, seeing him accept her help is enough for her and she lets it slide.

“No, that's why I keep staring at you,” she says, “Now close your eyes. I mean it.”

He clicks his tongue but compiles, tilting his head to give her better access to her hair. “Will you also reveal to me the woven intricacies of the fade, as I had the pleasure to do?”

“Weren’t you just fine with watching my body mere moments ago?” she asks, a smile curling her lips.

“Well, one might hope to see more than single wonder a day, hm?” he hums.

Siobhan shakes her head. Conversation always flows so easily with him. Is anyone as lucky as she is to get to see him like this? This kind and gentle man, curious and quick of wit. Sometimes insufferable, but always easy to love. At least to her.

With a swoosh she gently pours warm water over his hair. She fills the container up and repeats the process until there is nothing left of the produce in his hair. Then she starts lathering his hair in the second lotion. A quick glance at his face tells her that Emmrich could fall asleep any second. Sleepless nights have put dark circles under his eyes. Knowing him, he has worked himself to the bone trying to get her back. She can imagine him standing hunched over his desk until deep into the night, seeking answers to the question of her disappearance.

Before she can dwell on this, she gently washes out his hair again, shielding his face with one of her hands, and then moving onto his body. Emmrich opens his eyes again and moves to sit upright. She reaches for a orange bottle and puts it on her fingertips. However as she tries to put it on his face, her hands get caught in his. She shoots him a questioning look.

“That’s not for the face.” he says calmly, taking it out of her hands. “But for the body.”

A small groan escapes her lips before she can stop it. There is no real annoyance in her voice but to reassure Emmrich Siobhan puts on the most lighthearted tone she can manage and says, “Well, my love, what is the right bottle, then?”

Long, nimble fingers reach for a different, significantly smaller and purple colored, bottle and hand it to her. Siobhan quickly rubs the soap off on her chest but is again stopped by Emmrich, who tuts at her and pushes her finger lightly aside. He begins spreading the soap on her chest before stopping at her scar.

It’s a gruesome, yet thin line that runs from her sternum down to her waist, cutting through the skeletal scars etched on her skin since birth. A fresher scar to accompany the old ones, as if death itself had marked her.

She remembers the day she showed it to him for the first time. Emmrich looked so horrified back then, the implications of what happened to her evident to him. Yet he was kind, comforting and took her flirting in that particular situation with grace. When they kissed that day, Siobhan felt the safest she had in a very long time.

Now, Emmrich traces the scar with his soapy finger. Up and down. Again and again. Then his hands fold above her heart tenderly. Hazel eyes meet hers and they both still for a second, before he bows his head and puts a lingering kiss to the top of her scar, next to her heart.

Without words, she understands: I love you.

Joy spreads in her chest and Siobhan sets on her task again. She puts the right cleanser on her fingertips and starts rubbing circles on his cheeks, his strong but slender nose and his forehead, taking a little extra time along the way to massage his temple and jaw. The muscles are tight and she imagines him with a clenched jaw, rubbing his eyes, before continuing taking notes from several books.

The feeling of his fingertips on her face snaps her out of this thought. Emmrich looks utterly in love as he takes his turn in removing the grime and sweat from her face.

She chuckles. “Did you use the proper one?”

“Of course. Only the best for you.”

The next minutes are spent caressing each other's body and drawing soap circles on exposed skin. Sometimes they kiss the little trails that are made, which results in some awkwards laughs as soap enters their mouths. Tears and laughter mix as they lose themselves in the wonder of having each other.

Emmrich presses a lingering kiss to her neck and she laughs when his stubble tickles her.

“My love, your beard,” she giggles as she tries to move away, but he only holds her tighter.

“What of it, darling?” he asks innocently, rubbing his chin on the sensitive part that sits right between her neck and shoulder.

“You are tickling me,” She’s still trying to get out of his hold, “I thought a gentleman is never without a comb and a razor. What happened to that?” He is at her cheek now, short stubble brushing against her freckles. She shrieks, “Emmrich, please!”

His head cranes as he stops and looks up at her. “Laugh again, my dearest, my impossible Siobhan. Then I will get rid of this unsightly stubble at once.”

She does. Only for him can she laugh like this, this silly Professor, her favorite person. She kisses him, despite his beard and despite the soap because he is just so incredibly himself that she would have the strength to walk into the Fade and find a way out again, just to see him like this.

They untangle after a while, but never truly stop touching. While Emmrich shaves his stubble and trims his beard and Siobhan washes the dirt and blood out of her auburn hair.

She pretends she doesn’t see the nervous glances he shoots her, when he thinks she isn’t looking, but she makes sure to inch closer and presses her feet against his calf. When every ounce of grime and unwanted hair is well and truly gone and their skin is all wrinkled, they leave the water.

Once they are dry, Siobhan reaches for the nightgowns and passes one to Emmrich, before putting on the other. It is white a snow and feels wonderful on her skin. Siobhan lets out a relaxed sigh. She is in the middle of figuring out a way to twist her hair out of the way without a pin, when she hears Emmrich stop in his tracks.

“You are wearing one of my nightgowns,” he says.

She turns around, hair still in her hands. He wears his nightgown and was apparently in the process of sliding the last ring, the one his father gave him, on his hand. His marvelous, pretty hands.

“Yes, I thought if it looks this dashing on you, maybe I should give it a try, too.” She swishes the fabric between her fingers and bats her eyelashes at him, her voice dropping low. “What do you think?”

Something between a huff and a laugh escapes his lips. Then his gaze travels her body.

His brow softens, as he murmurs “I believe you could wear anything and still look positively radiant, my dear.”

With a surge of confidence Siobhan twirls once to make a show of her outfit. She is rather tall, yet not nearly as tall as Emmrich is, so the garment hangs awkwardly around her body in a few places.

“I look like a fool.” she laughs.

“You look exquisite.” he remarks. His eyes shine with unmasked adoration and Siobhan feels so very loved.

“Ah,” she says, while swaying over to him, “Do I now?”

Emmrich seems to drink her in for a moment, beginning to trace his finger down her neck and shoulders and Siobhan catches his hand between hers, before he can get too distracted.

“Will you give me an answer, love?” she whispers.

“Yes. You always do.” He simply states. And then he pulls her hands close and presses his lips to them like his very life depends on it.

Shortly after they make their way out of the bathroom, hands entangled.    

When they arrive in front of Emmrichs room, the opening door reveals a welcome sight to her: a skeleton in Watcher's robes. Happiness bubbles in her chest. Manfred has become a source of joy in the Lighthouse, and also in her life. Seeing him and Emmrich working together and the bond they share is a constant she found comfort in, even more so since Manfreds revival, as he grew even more curious of the world and his newfound powers.

Siobhan remembers very well when she showed him how to use the stick he found as focus so he wouldn’t cause an uncontrolled explosion anymore. That only helped marginally, but her heart still swelled with pride. No matter how often Emmrich tries to deny it: that is their son, undead and flinging magic around. She wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Manfred!” she yells happily.

“Siobhan!” he hisses equally as exited. He stopped calling her “Rook” shortly after being able to say Emmrichs name.

He jogs over, apprentice mantel swishing behind him and hisses again. “Siobhan’s back!”

“Yes, I am,” she says, “I need to see your next project. As I promised.”

Manfred seems to light up, joy evident, “Yes!”

He looks so adorable when he says it that Siobhan could cry. How could anyone ever find him unsettling? Then Manfred looks at Emmrich, “You shaved!”

Emmrich clears his throat. “Manfred, we talked about that. It is considered rude to remark upon such things.”

“Ah, yeah. But more importantly,” Siobhan interrupts. “Could you look if there is any food around and bring them to Emmrichs room for us? Maybe you could also fetch us some tea, if you would be so kind?”

Time passes differently in the fade but her stomach has started to growl rather loudly. She had a suspicion that Emmrich isn’t better off in that aspect. Manfred nods excitedly and runs off.

Both watch him leave, before entering Emmrichs room. After the door closes behind them, she allows herself to still for a second. When she fetched the gowns, she did not allow herself to rest. Now she just inhales the familiar scent of his room. Embalming salves, old books, the ever crackling fire and his distinguished perfume collection. It smells like warmth, like home. She squeezes Emmrichs hand gently and takes a quick look around the room.

Books and pages sit on the desk, scattered about, next to all sorts of equipments. Some of them she recognizes, but others are foreign to her. For him, this must classify as chaos. Both ignore it for tonight.

Johanna Hezenkoss‘ skull still sits at her table behind his desk. Mercifully she remains silent as both stride towards Emmrichs hidden bedroom. Yet there seems to be a strangely warm glow coming from her. Maybe this is only caused by her tired eyes and Siobhan dismisses it. She will have time to pester the woman for answers after they defeat Elgar‘nan.

The door mechanism clicks and the secret space behind Emmrichs bookshelves reveals itself. It is still like she remembers it. His wooden bed stands upon the deliberately placed woolen rugs, their pattern fitting nicely with the various decorative pieces of art in his room. At nearly every wall there are even more bookshelves, extending his collection well beyond what is seen in the main part of his room, but also many jars and baubles, each telling a new compelling story.

But to her, the most beautiful thing in the room is the armchair, that stands before yet another fireplace. Emmrich had taken her there many times after they started seeing each other, her blanket around her shoulders and a warm tea in both their hands, as they weaved memories and stories to a tapestry of words. And she loved it. The simplicity. How natural it felt to be with him even at the very start of their romance. The memory brings a smile to her face once more.

Siobhan wants to move toward the bed, which by now calls like a siren to her, when Emmrich stops her. As she turns around, she feels her brow furrow, but lets herself be pulled back a few steps nonetheless. With the way he straightens something within himself, she realizes exactly what he is trying to do right now.

“Thank you for taking care of me, my dear.” he says, voice smooth except for the smallest hint of lingering roughness. He tries to sound unbothered and in control, “But you must allow me to return the favor.”

“Yes. Tomorrow.”

“Siobhan.”

“Tomorrow, dear.”

She won’t have it. Because she sees the familiar flicker in his eyes: the frightened boy ghosting around in his skull. Scared of loss. Scared of being left alone with nothing but grief and his fear of death as his companions. No matter how much he tries to hide it and fall back into his habit of taking care of her, she sees him. She will always see him.

But words that usually come so easy to her fail her now. What could she possibly say to make it all better? Is there anything that could convince him that he does not need to shoulder this feeling alone? Instead of saying anything, she moves. As if she could protect him with her arms she catches him in an embrace.

In an instant he is around her, yet again heavy with grief. Or maybe it never left at all. And she holds him patiently as she waits for him to speak, using her hands to caress his back ever so slightly until he begins to melt into her. Several times it sounds like he might say something but nothing comes out. His lip quivers as he finally chokes out: “What if I don’t get the chance?”

There it is. Emmrich has lost so much, so early in his life. No matter how much time passes, there will always be the young boy in his heart and there will always be days where he feels afraid again. But Siobhan knows that she will be there to hold him every time, until time itself ends. She will always try to shy away the darkness and the sorrow from him. Because she loves him. She will always love him.

Smiling warmly at him, she tries to soothe his fear, even if just for a moment, by saying two words with more conviction than she feels: “You will.”

And then she pulls him, ever so softly, as she walks backwards to his bed and this time he follows.  

Apparenty it takes a fight against two elven gods and her being trapped in the fade to get Emmrich Volkarin to eat food while in bed. Manfred brings them lavender tea with honey and two stuffed sandwiches which they take eagerly. They eat in thoughtful silence. But it feels lighter somehow. More hopeful. When both are finished they clean up and ask Manfred to bring the dishes back to the kitchen.Siobhan in return promises him to assist in his next project, no matter what it is. Emmrich gives her a glance which tells her, that she will regret this. But he smiles anyway. He is so very proud of his son. Brave, curious Manfred.

Siobhan wonders if he sees himself in the wisp. A lost soul trying to understand the world. Maybe that is why they were inseparable since they met.

“Our son is becoming more like you every single day,” she says as they settle for the night. He chooses to rest on the side closer to the door, as if shielding her with his body could hide her from the world that tried to take her not so long ago. ”You are an exceptional teacher for him.” she adds, stretching her long legs on the mattress.

“Oh, Manfred learns marvelously quickly on his own. I merely guide him.” he murmurs.

She caresses his cheek and whispers, “You do so much more than that and you know it. He learns from you.” Emmrichs hand covers her own and watches her intently as she continues. “Allow yourself to take more credit for yourself, my heart. He could be so much on his own but a part of his greatness comes from you guiding him. And both of you help each other grow.” A tear prickles in the corner of her eye. It has but a moment's time to fall before Emmrich steals it with a kiss.

“Oh, but what a marvel it is, to have such parents as us,“ He pauses and smiles fondly, „Someone like you.”

He kisses her. Warm and alive. It feels like he tries to capture the moment in his brain, with an intensity as his lips meet hers, again and again, pouring his undying devotion into her. She feels warm deep down to her core as if a small fire has made itself home there. Small sighs escape his lips, which are mirrored in soft moans rising from her chest. With a sigh she opens her mouth for him and Emmrich dives in immediately, like she is his salvation. They share long, open mouthed kisses, exploring each other with a mixture of unhurried intention and unparalleled yearning. But that isn’t enough, as Emmrich pulls them even closer together, when there is already no more space left, as if he could hide if only he would manage to escape into her skin.

I am so glad you are back, he seems to say with every kiss.

I will always come back home to you, she answers.

More tears are shed in the warmth and comfort of the bed, but this time they are tears of relief and love. Even when they have to come up for air, they hold onto each other.

She kisses the top of his head and pulls him onto her chest before reaching over to grab one of his thick blankets, carefully draping it over them both with tired arms. Then she does it with another one, cocooning them in warmth. Before she can find another, Emmrich lifts his hand and grabs a different one, which she hasn’t noticed before, as it was slightly hidden under one of his pillows. The fabric is thick and purple, with some Hand-made embroidery at the bottom.

Its her blanket, which has been gifted to her by her friends. Emmrich must have taken it from her room while she was gone. Some part of her is glad that at least something remained to keep him company. He looks at her, slightly unsure, and she presses another kiss to his brow before she takes the fabric from his hands and covers them in another warm layer. The blanket smells more like him than her at this point and Siobhan feels herself relax, too.

Mossy and floral with a rich undertone. Like the flowers breaking from the soil in spring. Alive. Beautiful. Unique.

Siobhan lets her head fall back on his soft pillows and sighs contentedly. Emmrich lays his head down on her chest, a hand resting over her beating heart. As her eyes fall closed she feels Emmrich stir every now and then, being way beyond exhaustion.

Forcing her eyes open, she begins gently caressing his head and weaves words for him, like she did so many times before. When she was a child and hiding In the darker corners of the necropolis, Siobhan would make up stories. Hidden under her skin were words that wanted to be spoken, nestled right beside her heart. As if those would make her feel less lonely. It brought her comfort when she was young, no matter how silly it was to others. It still does.

So she makes up a story about a scared boy who meets a lonely girl deep inside the darkness of the underground. In return for his company and wit, she tells him stories. And because they are very brave, they try to find their way back home and have many adventures on the way and make a lot of friends. Because of course they do.

“Will Manfred be there as well?” Emmrich mumbles against her skin.

She smiles. “Well, yes of course. He is the wisp that helps them after all. The boy promises him a body for his help and because he loves the boy sooo much, Manfred brings light so they can see they do not get lost.”

Emmrich smiles and finally closes his eyes. While she tells her story, she slowly feels her darling drift off. Siobhan notices her own exhaustion seep into her, beckoning her to follow into pleasant dreams, but she keeps on talking. Even when his breathing has slowed, she does not stop, until the story has a happy end and Emmrich is well and truly asleep.

Then she watches him.

There is always something controlled about him. Back when they first investigated Johanna Hezenskoss activities, he told her that he always chooses his words carefully. And he always acts like it; as if one mistake could topple his whole life over, leaving nothing in its wake.

But in his sleep he softens.

She loves the crows feet around his eyes. How they dance around his skin when he talks or smiles. With her index she trails a line, softly as a whisper. Emmrich stirs slightly and Siobhan pulls away, settling on caressing his head instead.

Emmrichs lips are perfectly framed by smile lines and the mustache, he cares for meticulously. Siobhan sees them talking, smiling, pursed and, if she's lucky enough, kissed swollen and red by her. Now they rest slightly parted, letting his soft snores escape.

Her eyes trail his high cheekbones and curved nose. His wrinkles and worry lines. Even as the shadows of the flickering lights dance around the ones on his forehead, they seem less visible somehow. As if sleep had whisked away the traces of sorrow and age. He looks so heart-achingly young, curled up against her under the heap of blankets.

She presses a soft kiss to his forehead and silently vows to keep both of them safe: the scared boy and the curious professor.

[nortedwayfinder]

That exchange also went down when Sonic and Tails crashed in Hawaii

Both Maria and Sonic look at these scruffy little fellas and go "yeah that looks brother-shaped." I love that for them.

This isn't the first time I've talked about this, but the parallels between the ARK siblings and unbreakable bond is something that bounces around in my brain like the DVD logo on caffiene - even more now with the third movie.

There's the obvious - that they both initially bond through dancing - which makes me cry.

BUT ALSO

Shadow and Tails: Oh... People are saying I'm a freak. That must mean it's true.

Maria and Sonic: NO. DISTRACTION!!!

(Sonic by dancing and Maria by taking Shadow to look at the stars after they watch the Beware the Alien Freak movie.)

Gifs from @msdbzbabe and @adhd-sonic-the-hedgehog. I'm also tagging @genesis-quoi because we've been talking about this a lot and at this point I'm not sure where her ideas end and mine begin. We have merged.

[pupwashing]

dad!jimmy x daughter!reader

tags: this work contains incest, noncon, and choking!!! beware!!!!

a/n: as promised.. dad jimmy :3 im gonna get to work on the other two requests I received and those should be posted sometime soon.. keep your eyes peeled!! hope those who wanted dad jimmy enjoy..

dad jimmy. he’s barely a father, more like an overseer of your life.

he isn’t the most affectionate, nor is he interested in what your ambitions are, but he’s most certainly there.

even though he’s shitty, you can’t bring yourself to hate him. he’s still your dad.

you never knew your mom, and jimmy would rather not talk about her. he always gets apprehensive if you try to ask, so you stopped when you were a child.

jimmy has weird habits. he stays up late, later than any person should stay up. you swear you’ve never seen him asleep.

his state of always being awake makes you uneasy. you’ve been hearing noises late at night, like your door knob rattling.

when you bring it up to jimmy, he brushes you off. he insists you need to relax, that no one’s out to get you. it’s just the late night paranoia.

it’s sound reasoning until you wake up with him on top of you.

one hand grasping your neck, the other aiding him and getting his pants off.

he doesn’t realize you’re awake until you try to kick him, and he catches your ankle before it can hit him.

“relax, kid. it’s not gonna hurt you.” he grunts, moving to take off your panties. it’s not surprising to him that you sleep in so little; your mommy’s a whore. that’s how you came to be.

it’s sickening to jimmy, to see you flaunt your pussy like a wild animal. didn’t he raise you better than this?

he felt his stomach twist when he realizes your pretty cunt is already shaven. were you trying to impress someone?

his hand around your neck squeezes tightly as he stares down at you.

“who’s this for, kid? you planning on meeting a guy?” he asks, gritting his teeth.

you gasp, much smaller hand wrapping around his wrist.

“no, dad. i’m not meeting anyone.” you choke out, eyes wide with fear. he wouldn’t kill you, would he?

his grip on your neck loosens, and he nudges his cockhead against your hole.

you aren’t that wet, so a glob of spit will do the job. he’s sure you’ve taken worse than him.

you plea and cry out, but he ignores it all. in fact, you see his cock twitch as you struggle.

you aren’t strong enough to get him off of you (obviously), so he proceeds with sheathing inside you.

you scream, and he clamps his hand over your mouth. at least it’s not around your neck anymore.

“shut up.” he commands, not giving you any time to adjust before he begins to pump his hips.

his dick isn’t huge by any means, but it’s enough for it to hurt when he moves. all of your cries are just fuel for him to keep going.

for someone who’s acting like they don’t like it, your pussy squeezing him awfully tight. your gummy walls accept him, even if your mind does not.

jimmy’s eerily quiet as he fucks you. he doesn’t grunt, he doesn’t groan. he only breathes, and it’s hard to believe this is your father doing this to you.

each snap of his hips brings you closer to the edge instead of your peak. as his dick violates your guts, you look up, seeing your father’s face.

it’s the last thing you see before your vision goes black. you pass out right before he cums.

when you come to, the dull throb between your legs reminds you of what occurred before you lost consciousness.

you look down at your tummy, noticing the dried cum. he hadn’t even tried to clean up the evidence of his assault on you.

you decide against getting up, and instead lay on your bed in silence.

you don’t even have the energy to cry.

you hope jimmy got what he wanted out of you.

[vifilms]

we could go there | a. anderson

tags: eighteen+, sexual innuendoes, mentions of sex, jealousy, ow*n, beware i'm an ow*n hater 'nd i display that hatred here, two gays in love, fem!reader, fluff city, get a snack bc this is the longest fic i've ever posted.

a/n. hi guys. it's ray, again. as i begin to roll out content slowly, i want to make it clear, i fully support palestine. anyone who consumes my content, i strongly encourage to do the same. i have no patience for ignorance. below are links to take a look at. educate yourself, donate where you can, and reblog if you can't. hopefully you guys like this one, it's been a labor of love and a bit different than what i normally post. anyways, with love as always ♡

wc. 9k

DO NOT BUY TLOU, FUCK NEIL DRUCKMANN + EDUCATE YOURSELF + DAILY CLICK FOR PALESTINE + DONATE TO PALESTINE.

divider creds — @cafekitsune

Owen could not have been this fucking stupid. Practically trying to piss all over Abby as if she were something to own, some damn property to own, as if she wasn’t an actual person with feelings who could make her own decisions. The man only thought with his dick and the ugly green head growing endlessly. He only thought of what he wanted – never what she needs.

Meaning the only thought bouncing in your mind? Punching his crooked jaw.

To put it simply, Owen was not managing the breakup well by any means. It had been three months and still Owen continued to grab onto Abby like a leech. For this exact reason, you told Abby you wanted to keep whatever was happening between you away from prying eyes. Everything with Abby was still new, and you did not want to rush it. Ruin it even. Really, you wanted to stay in this small, secure bubble with her for the longest you could.

So, you kept it this way.

It was nice when it was just the two of you. Abby always likes to cook for you after a long week. Friday nights ending with her, a bottle of red on the dining room table, her cuddled up to your side. It surprised you how willing she was to be available for you each week, only missing one Friday due to a nasty cold. There were no prying eyes, no preconceived judgement – absolutely no expectations. Just you and those gorgeous blue eyes you couldn’t help but fall deeper for. With a soft familiar shine, every word she spoke dripped like pure honey all over your heart, making it brand new again.

You didn’t know what sweet was until her.

Never been more sure of it until now.

As if there was never an ache to be had, a heart broken – she seemed to seamlessly mend every broken piece of you.

You were so soft on her, and the Friday night dates only helped the cause. There wasn’t a damn thing you could do to help yourself from falling for her. Even when your knee jerk reaction is to run in the opposite direction, your feet stay glued to the ground. Kind words and services of affection gripped your heart with an iron fist and somehow, she managed not to break it.

You loved it. You were terrified. You want to run into her arms and never let go.

But of course, the man was the complication. The retched, jealous ex-boyfriend who could not imagine her being with a woman when he was right there. Owen always seemed to try and worm his way whenever he was around the two of you. Abby knew, just as well as you did, he wouldn’t be able to stomach you two together. So, she tried to keep it concealed for his sake and she wants to protect you. Owen is her loose end to tie; the last thing she wants is you in the middle of it.

Especially when things were going so well with you. Abby really had not expected to move on so fast, or at least find someone as amazing as you so soon, but you were right under her nose the whole time. She felt like an idiot for never recognizing it, but she thought better late than never, right? It’s overwhelming guilt consuming her, telling her it’s wrong to feel this happy so soon, but there’s no choice but to shove it down.

If she wants to be happy, pretend like the stress of Owen’s instigations aren’t getting to her, she needs to shove.

So, Abby shoves.

The stoic-blonde tries her best to hide what you two had from the rest of the group. Not until she dealt with her baby of an ex-boyfriend and his unresolved feelings. She just wanted to give him enough space to move on, but now it would be impossible.

She knew it and you did too. To Owen, it had been the most obvious. You were almost certain he was starting to put the two pieces together.

God was he being even more insufferable than ever.

It was nauseating you the way he was acting. He needed to be talking to Abby, sitting by Abby, touching Abby. Abby. Abby. Abby. The ignorant man’s mind focused on one thing, and it was his ex-girlfriend. Deep in his bones he believed there was still truly a shot and part of you thought there was. She did not like girls, or you, as much as she thought she did. She kept him around, never refusing what he wanted, and the two of you were not official.

You told yourself so many times, lies of assurance turned into fact in your mind, masking what the truth actually is.

Truly, there’s little to do.

Abby did not really owe you a damn thing.

Sure, she was available for you and those nights were everything to you. Most of them spent together ending with her fucking you, whispering sweet nothings into your ear before you fell asleep in each other’s arms.

You’re just a need for her to fill. A quick fuck, that’s all you are.

Persistent as ever, thoughts of doubt seemed to nag and linger throughout your head.

You’re not good enough for her.

She’ll run back to him.

Abby just wants your body, not you.

Everything had an expiration date and possibly, you need to start facing the harsh reality, she could not possibly be ready for all of this. Although, the possibility of her still hung up over Owen filled you up entirely with disdain.

What else were you supposed to think? Abby refused to cut ties; she wants to keep the two of you a secret. Even if she had been stuck to your side like glue all night, it did not stop the anxious feeling rumbling in the pit of your stomach.

You craved for more, but it could be possible you were just the building block until she found the next person to move onto. It’s not like Owen and her were some short-term fling. They had been together for years and clearly, he thought it would be for the long haul. He knew her in ways you couldn’t. The pair had been friends since they were kids. He gave her the support she needed when she lost her dad.

You could even understand how difficult it would be to give up someone like that, even if it was Owen. You would never blame her for not being able to let go of it. Never would you be able to forgive yourself if you held her to this crazy expectation, just like Owen did. So, you tried to hide for both of your sakes. It’s been easier in your relationship with Abby in the beginning. When it was new and fun, it went unnoticed.

But it clearly written all over the two of you tonight.

You were too drunk and even if Owen’s eyes were on the two of you, all you saw was her. Everyone was busy roasting marshmallows, still cool enough in beginning of spring, fire crackling as you watched it glow Abby’s features.

Her freckled cheeks and ivory skin sporting an orange hue and you were a little too obsessed with it.

She’s so beautiful. All you can think about is pressing your lips against hers, claiming her in front of everyone. It’s all you want.

But your own insecurity gets the best of you and somehow, it’s possible to dig down deep, suppressing the urge.

So, you try to place your focus elsewhere.

Even if being here with Abby, side by side, was a bad idea. She shoved her pussy in your face for consolation. You come with her, a party Owen would be at, and you finally get to eat her pussy out which you took full advantage of prior to arriving.

-

Ellie thought it would be important for the gang to get together before spring break rolled in and you had agreed along with Abby. Thankfully, Owen had shown up late and the only spot available to him was on singular chair across from where you were snuggled up with Abby on a two-seat bench.

Your hand on her thigh as you told her something dumb, silly even, but the smile on her burned so bright – you couldn’t help it. Any day of the week, it’s all you want. To see her happy, beaming. It just so happened to be your luck she did it often with you. She might’ve been cautious with Owen around, especially when it came to her proximity with you.

You’d eaten her out on your bed, before you rode in the passenger side of her jeep. Fuck, did you love how happy she looked, how relaxed she’d seemed. Abby didn’t tell you, but Owen had never even offered to do that before. The fact you had been begging for it unprompted had her heart pumping. Delicate hands running over her thick thighs as she let you spread them out wide before you made yourself comfortable between them.

She was replaying it over in her mind as she smiled wide at you. Abby could listen to you talk about whatever, forever. You made her feel good, didn’t ask her anything in return, but she would absolutely return the favor. Maybe by the end of the night, even.

It’s moments like these, making you believe this could be something special. Even convincing you Abby would want this with you, to be your girlfriend. For her to be yours seemed like a fever dream, but the more time you spent with her, you couldn’t deny it’s all you wanted. You were just terrified she couldn’t possibly want to be like this with you.

The uncertainty was a bitch and you felt like you were choking on it.

“Where’d you go, sweet girl?” Abby’s thumb smoothed over your chin. She wants to pull you in closer, claim you in front of everyone, but she doesn’t want to deal with the heat from Owen. Abby is fully capable of handling him, yet she can’t find it within herself to subject you to it.

It’s the last thing you deserve, not when you’ve been anything but perfect to her.

She tries to pretend the fear isn’t there as her throat bobs, attempting to swallow it down.

“Just thinking about…someone.” You drew out with a smirk on your face.

“Someone, hmm? Is a certain blonde the someone? Is she in the room with us?” Abby looks around in faux cluelessness. You have no choice but to laugh as she roasts two marshmallows for the two of you in one of her large hands.

“She might be, but she’s being silly right now. I’m not so sure anymore.” You teased, a smirk pulling at your lips. Abby likes how it feels to have your hand on her thigh, thumb rubbing back and forth. She’s thankful for the fuzzy, thick blanket placed over you both, concealing unwanted eyes from the affection.

The chilly, midnight air bites into your skin, it’s dropping more quickly than you anticipated but you’ll live.

Abby still feels the rapid beating of her heart, it’s deep in her soul. She wonders if you can feel it too. She takes a moment to look at you, really let her gaze fall on you and she knows how badly she’s fallen. It feels obvious, in the way her blue eyes are glossed over in love, the way she offered to roast your marshmallow for you, the way she insisted on sitting next to you whenever you were making your way over to the other bench with Jesse. She takes note of the black hoodie you’re wearing, the one you stole from her closet, her cheeks are crimson, but she’ll blame it on the cold if anyone asks.

Yeah, it’s the cold making her heart skip a beat.

“Are you sure you’re not cold?” Abby asks again, taking note of your body shivering before her.

“I-I’m fine, Abs. Promise?” But you weren’t. Your body was shivering, and you couldn’t speak without your teeth chattering.

“Oh yeah. You’re fine, right?” Abby taunts.

“Abby…please. Not right now.”

“What?”

“You know exactly what.”

“Maybe you should spell it out for me.”

“Now, you’re just being mean, Abs.” You begged, pleaded with her to let this go. You didn’t need another reason for him to judge either of you. The two of you already had been more affectionate than you wanted to be in front of Owen.

“Oh, I’m the mean one?” She tilted her head cockily, her tongue poking the inside of her cheek. Dangerously leaning into you as her eyes took a quick glance at your lips. Forbidden fruit she could only have in the safety of your apartment or hers. Made her full warm, her mind wondering about how you made her feel. All the things you’d done to her, how you always picked up when she called, how you seemed to know what to say and at the right times.

It’s not fair.

“Tonight, you are.” You replied, trying to see if there was another conversation to escape into, but everyone was engaged in conversation, except for Owen. He was looking right at you, furrowed eyebrows and jaw clenching as he took Abby’s undivided attention directed towards you.

“He’s looking right at us, Abby. You guard dog looks like he wants to choke me out.” You turned towards her muscular frame, only to find she has leaned in even more. God, she was trying to torture you. Infinitely so.

“Well, he’ll have to get in line.” Abby teased, dropping a wink that made you feel hot in the bitter cold.

“Baby, you’re killing me.” You lightly pushed her, laying your head against her shoulder.

“Calling me baby in public? Are you trying to torture me…baby?” Abby whispered in your ear as she maneuvered her free hand underneath the blanket and interlocking with yours. She kept it against her thigh, but it was her turn to rub her thumb against your skin.

“No can even hear us.”

“Would you care even if they could?” You paused for a moment as you contemplated.

Would you truly? Owen’s reaction wouldn’t be the best, but it would take the relief off your shoulders. Honestly, you would have been nervous if Abby was truly serious about this.

About you, but she’s not.

“You’re holding my hand, Abby.” You sighed, content with her warm fingers heating up your freezing ones.

“Yeah, I’ve been thinking doing more than just holding your hand.” Abby rested her head against yours, “But I’ll settle for this, at least for right now.”

“Yeah?”

“You’re pretty much all I think about these days, especially after you ate me out this afternoon.” You feel the heat even in the freezing cold, taking the sharp remark right off your tongue.

She was smirking wildly at her accomplishment, until she noticed the glare being sent her way.

Abby stares at Owen and she can tell how angry he looks, but she knows better than anyone he’s all bark and no bite. He won’t say anything to her right now, not until she’s alone. He doesn’t want you around when he says what he needs to.

Abby knows what he wishes to tell her. It’s been on the tip of Owen’s tongue after the breakup, but it’s a little too late. She doesn’t care to hear how sorry he is. It’s holding no weight. He only wants to fix things once he’s turned her into an afterthought. It makes her feel sick, unwanted even.

She feels none of those things when she’s with you. All the doubt, self-hatred, and regret piles in the back of her throat when she thinks about Owen. His presence no longer provides her with comfort and safety. All she sees is the blood on his hands and it fuels her with rage. She shouldn’t feel this way. Abby doesn’t want to, so she drowns herself in you.

Abby can’t feed into his delusion anymore; she knows she can’t. Not if she wants to keep you around and keep you happy.

Owen knows his limits. Abby will never talk to him if he interrupts her while she’s preoccupied with you, she’ll be out for his neck if he tries anything, the look she was giving told him that.

“Would you just stop being stubborn and take my jacket?” Abby speaks quietly. She removes the marshmallows from the pit of the fire, and you grab the graham crackers and the chocolate with your free hand.

Purposefully, you ignored her comment.

“You know, this would be easier if you let go of my hand.”

“Not going to happen, gorgeous.” Abby chuckled as she watched you struggling to remove the graham cracker from the plastic encasing. She takes in the way your eyebrow furrows in concentration, trying to get this god-awful plastic away from the treasure. Plump lips pouting, practically begging for assistance.

“Abbbyyyyyy.” You grunt, clearly frustrated with the damn crackers.

“Do you want my help, baby?” She asks innocently, but there’s nothing innocent about her voice. It makes you want to fuck her right in front of everyone. Especially with Owen watching. Yeah, fuck him. Why did you have to suffer for his shortcomings? Clearly, he wasn’t good enough for her, but you would be. You’d treat her like she fucking deserves. In your bones, deep in your very being, you would never make her feel like Owen did.

She’s perfect in your eyes. So precious and joyful, she made you feel good, and you hoped you did the same for her. Carefully, she set the marshmallows she’d be holding on the skewers and placed them carefully in your lap.

“Give it here, baby.” Abby’s delicious, big palm inviting you to place the bag in her hand and you did. It shouldn’t have been as sinful as it is, but she barred her teeth on the seam, creating a tear, placing the crackers on her lap. Immediately, Abby rested her head against yours once again. It made your heart skip a beat; how close she wants to be with you tonight.

Secretly, it’d been kind of an unspoken agreement when she was with Owen. Abby didn’t like public affection, never really had been into it. Made her feel nauseous at the thought. So, Owen stopped trying and because of it you’d make a point to never push more than she was ready for. But making her come on your tongue three times before you left the coziness of your apartment brought it out of her. Somehow, you had managed to subdue her into a needy, whining little girl who needed your touch, or she just might just die right then and there.

It's what you told yourself. You weren’t quite sure what else to believe.

Abby knew the truth; she’d been hiding tucking it away for safe keeping. She could let you know when she was ready, but right now, mindlessly she let herself lean into your body. With an open heart, Abby allows herself to feel the warmth and comfort only you could provide. The soft feeling in her heart she’d never felt with anyone else.

Silently, you brought your eyes to connect with Dina’s before she dropped a not-so-subtle wink.

Dina was the one who convinced you to even go for it in the first place with Abby. You really didn’t want to pick on the dead carcass of her fall out with Owen, but it was clear to everyone just how much Abby cared for you. Dina was sure the braided blonde didn’t even know it herself at the time, but anyone with eyes could see.

All of it had been so easy, being with her was the most natural thing in the world. This right here; she’s the blueprint for what it’s supposed to be like. It helps she’s sweet on you, more than anyone has ever been. You wish you could look at her right now. The beanie was so goddamn cute on her. She looked too good with her bomber jacket, the one she offered to you insistently. Repeatedly because she knew how damn cold you are. But you’d prefer her cuddled up into your side — her body heat felt better than any coat could.

“Do you have the chocolate?” Abby asks sweetly and you hand it to her, and she breaks up a handful of bars as she places on top of the the graham crackers she pulled out of the bag. “Can you?” She lets the end of her sentence drag off, but you know exactly what she needs.

You lift your head from her shoulder, and she pouts at the disconnect.

“Why’d you move?” She brings her hand closer to her inner thigh and it’s when you feel the bulge concealed beneath her trousers. You don’t say anything — you don’t want to spoil the fun she clearly has planned. Although, it makes you feel heated. The intention behind it sent shivers down your spine, goosebumps spreading all over your skin.

“You’re being stubborn, Abs.” You huffed trying to pull your hand away, but her grip tightens.

Got it. Better not poke the bear.

“Just place it right there. I’ll remove it from the skew.” You listen to her, picking up the first one and placing it delicately on top of the chocolate, and you slowly pull it away as Abby looks you dead in the eye. Making s’mores feels more sensual than it should be, but maybe just being around her makes you feel this way.

It’s just her making the tingling feeling between your thighs reignite.

Abby’s hands are sticky from the roasted pillow of sweet, white substance stuck around her fingers. Her heavy-lidded eyes, look down at her fingers before looking back at you. She seemed to be in a daze, thinking of something else. You could guess exactly what Abby was thinking of.

“I would ask you to clean it for me if we were alone, but this will have to do.” She slides her forefinger and middle in her mouth, and god, you’re imagining it. Your mouth wrapped around her thick fingers, tongue circling around it as if it was her cock fucking your mouth. It got her off just as much as you did.

She liked to have you like this, completely and utterly under her control.

Abby pulls off with a hardly subtle pop, her lips are moist and fuck, her fingers are incredibly wet. You can practically feel your cunt purring at her, the throbbing insatiable as you’re looking at your pretty girl like she’s a slab of meat to be butchered and slaughtered. Really, you can’t help it.

The sex isn’t just good. It’s fucking amazing. Stupidly obvious in the way it just makes sense with Abby. She’s reminding you of it, as she gestures for you to pick up the second skew. Sticky fingers getting caught on the marshmallow again, cleaning it off with her mouth again. Breathy, quiet, moan slips out before you can catch it and she’s smirking so loudly you want to kiss it off her deeply cocky face.

“Hm, guess I can’t blame you for getting all hot and bothered. I know how much you love my fingers. Especially when they’re inside you, huh? Just a little bit of déjà vu from last week.” Abby teased lightly.

“You’re going to pay for this.” Threatening the blonde beauty as you grabbed the finished s’more, and she grabbed the other one.

“Am I?” Abby’s voice dropping an octave lower than how she usually talks. Trying to do her best to bring out all the stops to do her best to effectively ruin you.

The answer to her question is left open in the air, the two of you silently finishing off your s’mores, her hand still in yours. Abby doesn’t want to let go. Even wants to hold your hand on top of the blanket, for everyone to see, but she doesn’t want anyone to ruin the moment. She’ll take for this now, but knowingly will push for more for later. When you’re ready for it. It’s still fresh, new and she needs to learn to be patient even if it’s the last thing she wants to do.

This time Abby is leaning her head on your shoulder. She takes in your sweet sent, pine mixed with vanilla, and it intoxicates her. Owen is finally engaged somewhere else besides her. It’s a relief. To not feel his accusatory eyes on her. Abby doesn’t want to feel guilty about her affection towards you. You’re too lovely for this to be seen as anything but beautiful.

She won’t let anyone take this away from either one of you.

You engage in conversation with Ellie and Dina, they’re to the left of you where you and Abby are sat. Dina’s, making you laugh about something stupid Ellie did earlier this week. Ellie claims it’s not nearly as stupid as Dina makes it out to be, which only sends you and Dina through a tailspin.

It obviously was just as idiotic as it sounds, but what Dina says next brings Abby to full attention.

“Hey, were you going to call Leah back? She sounds pretty interested in seeing you.” Dina questions you, a smirk playing at her lips, and it makes you want to scream.

Fuck.

Dirty fucking Dina.

She played it off as coy, maybe Abby wouldn’t question Dina’s intentions, but she sure as hell would give yours a second thought. Ellie let a small chuckle, earning a death glare from Abby. It was painfully obvious to the couple the feelings you felt towards one another, but neither of you took steps towards making it official.

“Leah?” Abby questions, her grip on your hand tightens, afraid if she eased up, you might slip.

“Y-Yeah, just a girl I met at the work event I told you about.” You let out, trying to land the blow gently but it already had made its impact with Abby. There was nothing gentle about the knife she felt in her heart.

Abby’s jaw clenches too many times for you to count, her grip is cruel, and she won’t meet your eyes. She suddenly finds the flames in front of her incredibly interesting. Ember reflects from Abby’s eyes, they’re still blue, but icy as you try to find them, but she refuses.

You want to tell her it’s innocent. It doesn’t mean anything, and it really doesn’t. You felt stupidly insecure that night. Pleading Abby to come with you, but it was Owen’s birthday dinner, and she couldn’t make it. Felt like a horrible slap in the face for her to pick him over you even after the breakup. One cocktail turned into five and before you knew it, you put your number into a pretty girl’s phone. She danced with you, she flirted, and it felt nice to be someone’s priority, their full attention seated with you.

The night ended with a sweet kiss on the lips, a promise she would text, and you would call her. Leah made good on her promise, and you found yourself falling incredibly short of yours. Abby came over around midnight, it felt a punch to the gut to make time for you now but not before. Yet, you let her in even after how miserable and alone her actions made you feel.

All you see is her. Her lips and the voice you love. She makes the anger melt away as if she wasn’t the one to instigate it in the first place.

She apologizes for not taking you up on the offer. Her puppy eyes pleading for forgiveness. She has a tote full of goods which allow her to breach past your door. Chocolate covered strawberries, a bottle of your favorite red wine, the ingredients for your favorite dinner, and tempting lips you’ll know will have their way with you by the end of the night. Abby knows just as well as you do, both of you are fucked.

It’s the first time she stays over at your place, and it feels solidified. This could all end up in flames, with both of you burned, but somehow it feels worth the risk. The light glistens through the bedroom window as it shines on her eyes, the blue standing out as she looks on your sleeping form. Black sheet concealing your body from her. Then it’s almost like you know she’s watching you and your eyes open meeting hers.

Smiling softly, it reaches your eyes, and your head nuzzles into her chest, sighing contently. Before, your brain could excuse how you felt, but after that night, it had changed. You realized just how much Abby had wormed her way into your heart, into your soul – you didn’t wish for her to leave.

But it still didn’t negate what you felt, the fear of losing her to someone she might still be in love with. Yeah, so she did feel remorseful for picking him over you, it didn’t mean she still didn’t care about him. It was Abby – of course she did. Everything was still so new, there wasn’t enough foundation to land on, for either of you to be sure. You had to hope it was strong enough to support the two of you.

You felt lonely, and Abby wasn’t there to give you the comfort you needed so this was your way of lashing out without speaking to her about it. It was small, but the thought echoed and occupied all the space in your brain.

She’ll leave you for a man, they always do. How could this be any different?

Past experiences drawing the conclusion for you, instead of actually speaking with her about how you felt, leaving Dina to air out your dirty laundry.

Dina kept talking, but she changed the subject. Still, didn’t stop how tense Abby is. She refused to notice anyone, her focus trained on the flames in front of her, anger brewing beneath the surface. You were holding onto the fact she hadn’t let go of your hand. Maybe you could settle your strong headed, burly bear.

You’d seen a couple times just how protective she could be over you. The fact you were possibly entertaining someone else, besides her, stung.

Everyone else had funneled inside, but Abby stayed by your side. She still wouldn’t look at you. She was as stoic as you’d ever seen her. She still wouldn’t keep her eyes off the fire, it was dying out and it felt like there wasn’t much you could do but watch it with her.

Owen would get exactly what he wanted. Maybe the two of you would never even become a thing because of your fatal case of loneliness. It made you nauseous. He didn’t deserve her, but it seems neither did you.

“So, who’s this Leah?” Abby broke the silence, her voice cracking in the process. “A-And why didn’t you tell me about her?”

You bite on your bottom lip, tugging it so carelessly you could taste the iron.

“It’s not important. She’s not important.” You reassure, but it doesn’t offer Abby much comfort.

“Obviously she’s important enough for Dina to know about her and not me.” Abby bites, her tone colder than it ever has been directed towards you.

“It’s not what you think, Abs.” You pause, not wanting to lie to her. You can see the self-doubt swimming in her eyes, and you need to do your best and reassure her, nothing is going on. “It was before, you know, that night.”

“So, you were seeing her? Both of us at the same time.” She thinks it’s not even a question. She states it as if there is nothing to be found but truth. It feels like there is a blade in Abby’s back, one you put there yourself, but now she’s only feeling the wound.

“No, baby, will you just let me explain?” Abby nods, allowing you to continue.

This won’t break everything will it? You should have told her. It really was stupid not to, silently cursing at yourself.

You’re going to kill Dina for exposing you like this. Fuck. Damn the red wine and her loose lips.

“The night we were fighting about you coming as my plus one or going to Owen’s dinner? Do you remember that?” She nodded her head, waiting for you to continue. “Well, I sort of, met someone the same night. She gave me her number and we kissed.”

“Huh.” It was more bitter than contempt. Rage? You weren’t sure.

“You’re mad.” Abby’s jaw clenched; her grip was tight again. “I’m sorry, okay? In my head, you had abandoned me for him. I was lonely and hurt. I just wanted you there with me, yet you went with him, and it felt nice to have someone’s attention. It was stupid. I only did it because I felt like I didn’t have yours.”  

“Did, um, you ever see her after that?” Abby looked at you, finally. Her eyes begging for the answer she needed. Preparing for the worst but found herself hoping for the best.

“Abby?” You tilted your head to the side.

“What?”

“Do you really think I would?”

“I don’t know. I thought I was the only girl you were kissing.”

“Well…we do a little more than kiss.” You teased lightly, a smirk on your face.

“Stop being cute right now, it’s not fair.” The blonde pouts, upset she couldn’t stay upset. “I deserve to be angry right now.”

“Do you?” You leaned in closer, your breath kissing Abby’s face. “Last time I checked, I’m not your girlfriend.”

“Baby.” Abby whines, her frustration wasn’t holding. It never really did, but you did have a point. Neither of you had made this official, but Abby would argue it sure did feel like it.

“Look, I know we decided to keep things just been us, not really label it, because of your messy breakup with Owen. We were still trying to figure out what this was, and it was new and terrifying for you.” Your free hand found purchase on the end of her braid, tugging at the open strands, your thumb smoothing over it.

“I respected your decision and I’ve kept this between us. I mean, our friends do have eyes and it’s not like we’re exactly doing a good job of hiding it anymore.” You laughed softly and Abby was sporting a hint of a smile on her face.

 “That night when I spent time with Leah, I let my insecurities get the best of me. All I could think about was you and Owen. I had convinced myself you were getting back together with him, and this is why you had ditched me. It’s not an excuse, I should have told you about it, but what else am I supposed to believe?”

You took a deep breath, trying to control your emotions. You didn’t want to break down in front of her, but someone had to start this conversation. Abby sure wouldn’t. If it made you the bad guy, so be it.

“Even now, he’s still a concern. He looked like his head was going to blow off from pure despite. We’re still hiding. I can’t just sit here and pretend I’m okay with this anymore. I deserve to be with someone who can hold me hand in front of our friends.” You sighed, pulling away from her entirely, stepping towards the flames. It was time for the two of you to come to an end. It’d be better for the two of you, before either of you gets too invested and someone ends up really hurt. Sick and wretched filling gnawing at your heart, telling you it is already a little too late for that.

You love her, but you love yourself a little more. It’s not her fault, but your past girlfriends always burned you because of the ex-boyfriend. Broken promises of a future together until they crawled their way back to where they put themselves, back in the closet. The shame of liking girls, you, too much for them to bear.

Ending the same, your heart beaten to a pulp before you stitch yourself together again.

Abby hasn’t disagreed with anything you’ve said, making you believe she still holds a torch for him. The single thought alone makes you feel nauseous. Just being a placeholder, whether it be for Owen or someone else.

She stayed fucking quiet, and it only pissed you off.

This is it, the final nail in the coffin.

“Abby, I think we should put a pin in this. I-I’m sorry. I know you’ve apologized since that night, but I can’t see past him. Not if this isn’t going to become more. I need more than this.” You confessed to her, continuing to walk away from a still silent Abby.

It wasn’t fair how much you cared for her, possibly even love. Finding yourself choking on it and she seemed to be doing just fine with the thought of never having it again.

Maybe she was still in love with him after all. How fucking pathetic does this make you?

-

Abby was stoic the rest of the night. Owen noticed the space between the two of you and tried to use it to the best of his abilities once everyone was sitting around the couch, watching a classic Christmas film. The rest of the group was adding commentary when considered necessary, stuffing their mouth full of chocolate goodies and kettle corn. Trying but failing, you couldn’t focus on the movie. Not one bit.

All you could think about is how quiet she became, hands stuffed in her pocket as she watched you end things and didn’t pipe in once. It was clear you overestimated your importance to her. A rebound. A steppingstone. An experiment. You hated all of it. You hated thinking about it. All your fears about her came true and now you’d have to pick up the pieces alone.

She would go back with Owen. She’d never consider you an actual option. You would give her the whole world if she asked, but that was just it, she hadn’t. She wouldn’t. Not in the entirety of the four months you spent together. Abby was always trying to protect his feelings, but never considering she was shattering yours into tiny little pieces.

Making yourself scarce to the kitchen, Owen’s cocky smile and Abby’s avoidance to meet you in the eyes was allowing yourself to drown in self-depreciation. You couldn’t stand it. So, you chose the most delicious vice you could think of – chocolate covered strawberries.

It would do for now, until your heartache subsides, allowing yourself to get a grip on it. You were halfway into your fourth one when she walked in, of course she would. Fucking hell.

Your eyes trained on the food in front of you as you took another bite.

Don’t look at her. Don’t look at her. Don’t look at her.

She let you stand there in the cold, like a pathetic, lonely loser practically begging her to say anything and she stuffed her big, lovely hands in her jacket pockets and stayed silent. Abby doesn’t care, her conscious won’t let her be the one who’s hurt you. All she wants is to make amends; she doesn’t want you.

The seasonal depression has its tight hold on you, and Abby unwillingness to catch you, fuck, it makes you want to punch her stupidly gorgeous face. Who gave her the right to make you feel this way? Painfully, you see in your peripherals her hands twitching by her sides, standing in front of the door, at least supplying a barrier from everyone but you can see the uneasiness in her.

But you do look at her.

You wish you hadn’t.

Abby isn’t moving besides her hands; she’s shed herself of the coat and she’s in a sweater you bought for her with a chain around her neck that you also had gifted her on her birthday. It’s not fair to you how cozy she looks, how much you want to escape into her arms and welcome the comfort she would offer in a heartbeat. Her body runs like a human furnace.

You crave for her to tell you everything is going to be alright; you want her to reassure you with her lips on your temple, you want to bury your face in the crook of her neck and focus on her heartbeat. You’re still so damn cold, even in this heated house. Your body craves her comfort more than you want to admit, it’s become second nature.

Her hair is falling past her shoulders, beanie has been abandoned. Abby combs her fingers through her hair, giving them something to do because she’s almost certain she’s going to faint from seeing your pretty eyes glossed over. You’re drowning in something sweet, no doubt due to the bitter taste Abby left in your mouth.

It makes you even more uneasy the two of you were supposed to share a bed tonight. After everything, you didn’t trust yourself around her. Not one bit. Even if you were hurt, the second she put her arm around you, all anger would be thrown at the window. You didn’t want her to drive this late, it wasn’t safe. The roads were beginning to ice over and Abby hates driving at night. The only other room big enough for two was Owen’s and the thought made you want to puke all over him.

She finally spoke up and you were strangely thankful for it. You weren’t sure where your thoughts would’ve gone, resentment growing with them.

“I know you probably won’t believe me but I’m sorry. I should have asked you how you were feeling about all of it.” Abby apologized, but she hadn’t moved an inch. “I just thought…” She left you hanging, basically prying your lips open for a response.

“What?”

“There hasn’t been anyone else for me, okay? I-I don’t want anyone else.” She looked around the room, trying to focus her attention on anything else but your undivided attention. Her palms were sweating as she wiped them on her sweatpants. “Can I tell you something without you totally making fun of me for it?”

“I would never make fun of you, Abby. Not like this.” You offer a gentle smile, encouraging her. She knows now what she should’ve done before – fight for you.

Abby thinks it’s why you’re avoiding looking at her. She can see the wanting in your eyes. If you’re not looking closely enough it drowns in disappointment, but it’s still there. Abby recognizes the look; it’s how she looks at you. Disappointment can’t be found, but her love for you can.

The most perfect girl for her. Fuck, she’d found a way to ruin it.

You’re really the only person who puts up with her day-to-day shit and you don’t complain. You’re you about it. Incredibly graceful, sort of hurts Abby’s cheeks because it makes her smile so damn much. She’s taken advantage of your kindness, and she needs to make sure she does everything in her power to make amends.

“It’s okay, Abby. Whatever happens, you always have a safe space with me.” Reassuring her while biting into another strawberry.

You’re still so sweet. Fuck, Abby wants to kiss you, hard.

“I really believed I was in love with Owen, I care about him. He was there for me when shit hit the fan. Sometimes, I feel like I owe him because of it.” Abby took a breather as she stepped forward, but you stayed sitting on countertop.

“It’s not fair to you and it is sort of my fault he hates you so much. I just want to protect you from it, but I haven’t done a very good job. It’s really embarrassing for me to admit this.” Abby sighed as she stood in front of you, her big frame standing between your spread legs, a snug spot for her to fit into.

You tilted your head at her curiously. “Just tell me. I’m sure it’s not as bad as you think.”

“It is.”

“Abby?” You questioned her, but still chose to be tight lipped. “If you want to fix this, I need you to talk.” The cocky attitude had evaporated from earlier, leaving you with one you usually got. The girl who was too afraid to kiss you on the first night. Arguably, you like this version of her a little more.

“I, um, so, I sort of kind of used to think of you when Owen and I used to have sex.”

“Um, okay? Is there a reason I need to know this?”

“Well, the reason I think he hates you so much, on top of me kind of being all over you all the time is….”

“Abby, if you don’t tell me right now, I swear to god.”

“Okay, okay.” Abby took a deep breath before she let the confession tumble from her lips. “Whenever we would, you know, I would always kind of sort of, call out your name instead of his.”  Abby mumbled, closing her eyes in shame.

“Baby….you’re kidding.” An itch to laugh bubbles, but you’re able to muffle your giggle enough.

“Would you, you know, not laugh at me.” Abby sighs. “See! This is why I didn’t want to tell you. It’s embarrassing.”

“I’m not laughing at you, it’s him. He couldn’t even fuck you good enough to get your poor, gay brain off of me, huh?” Abby let you tease her, your smile, an equal trade for her pride. Her hands glide along your thighs, igniting a fire beneath your skin.

Abby loses the hint of teasing when she responds, “Yes, I couldn’t stop thinking about you. I never stop.” Abby took a step forward, your pelvis pressed and to her, legs latched around her toned waist.

“I’m supposed to be mad at you.” She leaned forward, peppering kisses along your neck, you're gripping onto the chain around her neck, your initial engraved on the pendant. Boy, does she make you want to forget about everything as her teeth latch lightly, giving you a playful bite before her tongue soothes over the ache.

“Abs, fuck um don’t you think we should talk first?” Your strong resolve from earlier fading into the tranquility of Abby’s comforting arms.

“Okay. Then, talk babygirl.” She continues to kiss your neck as your neck as you struggle to find your footing.

“I-I just, um, I need…” Subconsciously, your fingers dip into her blonde waves, tugging at the root slightly.

“C’mon, use your words. You did a pretty good job earlier you know, felt a little humiliated back there.”

“Really?”

“What?”

“Abby…It was Dina. I never would have brought Leah up like that. Truthfully? I wasn’t going to bring her up at all.” Abby frowned, lips pouting, clearly frustrated.

She was red, tense, and the jealousy in her gray hues burned bright. Carefully, her hands gripping on your thighs, giving them a light squeeze.

“I didn’t like hearing about another girl kissing you. Someone else who isn’t me…it pisses me off.” Abby sighed, look down at your sweats. “Not hearing it from you just made it so much worse for me.”

With the admission, you tugged her closer to you, resting your hands on her defined traps, caressing the nape of your neck.

“You’re right. I’m sorry. I should have told you and I didn’t.” You tugged her closer, if it was even possible, letting the safety of her arms comfort you. “Dina just wants me to admit to you how I feel. It’s why she said it.”

Abby perked up at your confession, neatly placed in the palm of her hand.

“How do you feel?” She asked, cresting some distance between the two of you, pulling you out of the crook in her neck, a new home you’d taken residence.

“One condition…”

“Yeah?” You grasp her chin, tilting her head up slightly, grip tight.

“Next time we’re fighting, and I ask you to say something, you better speak next time or so help me god…” You trailed off but Abby couldn’t take it anymore. She had been dying to kiss you all night, since you’d done the service of your sweet, skilled mouth eating her out like you were personally starved.

“It’s cute, baby.”

“I was talking. Abby?” She silent as you wait for Abby to respond but she just cocks her head to the side, a smirk plastered on her face.

She leans in, whispering in your ear, “You can keep talking. Just let me return the favor from earlier.”

Abby doesn’t give you much time to respond before she’s removing your legs from around her waist, her pretty honey-blonde hair is thrown into a low bun in preparation as she offers her hand, and you take it as she helps you off the countertop.

Abby catches you, strong arm around your waist pulling your body against her.

“How does that sound? You, bossing me around and giving you a reminder of just why you put up with my bullshit. Yeah?” You come down to your natural height, Abby’s presence even more damning. It didn’t matter if she was taller or just a bit shorter than whoever she was around, the confidence she exhibited was fucking damning.

She’s so broad, big, and intimidating and she’s willing to sink to her knees for you. Abby licks her chapped lips until they become shiny and pink.

Fuck, she has to be doing it on purpose at this point.

You nod but she makes no movement to take this somewhere.

“First, tell me how you feel.” Abby rubs her thumb over your soft skin, caressing your cheek with a delicate touch. “C’mon, I mean I might know but I just need to hear it.”

“I just, I’ve been wanting for us to make it exclusive…just me and you. Tired of hiding, in front of our friends especially. I want you to be my girlfriend.” You admit sheepishly, eyes trained on the floor until Abby tilts your head vertically by gripping your chin.

“Baby, it’s all I want you. Jus’ you and I against the world. Yeah?” Abby’s lips mesh with yours, the fit is perfect as if your earlier problems hadn’t melted away.

They didn’t. They were still there, but you could work through them together. You and your girlfriend, against the world, together.

reblogs are appreciated! ♡

[runningfrom2am]

gem of panem // LTPF

summary: introducing regulus and regan snow; son and daughter of the most powerful couple the country has ever seen. the real gems of panem.

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

wc: 4.2k

masterlists / nav / requests

tags/warnings: dad!coryo!! finally!!, gamemaker!reader, this time the capitol brats are their kids, also a little bit of violence in this one!! some very minor medical procedure descriptions (trypanophobia havers beware- although that's me so i was VERY vague with descriptions otherwise i would have made myself cry)

a/n: i've had dad!coryo requested for this series a few times so here's a taste of that and an introduction to their kids!! ahh I've been working on this for so long i hope you guys love it :)

series masterlist // playlist

"I simply do not have time for this. Notify my husband." You wave off your assistant as you stand over the large round table in your laboratory.

"I- uh, your husband, Doctor Snow?" The young girl stammers.

"I don't believe I stuttered, did I?"

"No, Doctor. I just... I am uncertain he will be available right now."

You look up from the scattered pile of papers, and you can see her tense up. "I understand that he's our president, but he is also a father. He is more 'available' than I am a week before the games! Now go, he shall handle it."

"Yes, okay. I will, I'm sorry." She agrees, already pacing away and out of your sight and you get back to work, resisting the urge to attempt at rubbing away your now growing migraine.

"President Snow, sir?" Coryo looks up from his desk as one of his people opens the door for your assistant.

"Serena, my wife sent you?" He asks, standing quickly. It wasn't standard that you would send her instead of showing up yourself, or even just waiting until the end of the day to tell him over dinner.

"Yes, sir." She nods, looking down at her notepad. "Her office got a call from the academy, about an hour ago. They wished to speak with her about your son, sir. In person."

Coryo furrows his brow, already standing and grabbing his red overcoat. "Did something happen?" Why would they call the head gamemaker and demand her presence a week before the games? That seems incredibly careless.

"They wouldn't tell me anything other than the fact he is safe and not injured, sir."

He nods slightly, already brushing past her out the door. "Call the school, tell them I am on my way."

Coryo gets out of the black car, pacing up to the elementary wing of the academy's campus, a building he is far too familiar with. Walking in, he watches the receptionists eyes go wide as they both stare at him. He clears his throat.

"Where is my son?" He asks flatly.

"In the Deans office, President Snow." She replies and he nods, rubbing his jaw.

"Whose decision was it to call on my wife a week before the games are set to begin?"

Her face pales. "Well, um, she is the primary emergency contact for him, it is procedure to make that call first."

"So it was you?"

"Yes, sir."

Coryo leans onto the counter that separated them. "Right, well, maybe we should work on our critical thinking skills next time if we want to keep our jobs, yes?"

"Yes. I'm sorry. It won't happen again." He smiles slightly at her response, tapping his hand on the granite counter before walking off down the private hall.

He enters without knocking, practically slamming the door open and immediately searching the unnecessarily large office for your son. "Regulus, are you alright?" He asks, approaching the boy quickly when he sees him sitting in a chair in the corner of the room.

"Dad, I'm fine..." He mutters, arms crossed over his chest as he pouts.

Coryo crouches down in front of him, examining him closely.

"Coriolanus, I was surprised to get your call." The new Dean says, drawing his attention as he stands back up.

"Why is that?" Coryo asks, turning to his former classmate with a raised eyebrow.

She shrugs, standing behind her desk with her hands in her pockets. "We called for Y/N."

"A week before the games." He nods, approaching the desk slowly. "Are you not happier to see me than her, timing considered?"

"That's a good point." Persephone chuckles.

"Yes, she was not pleased you even called." Coryo replies, knowing he didn't even speak with you directly. "So please, tell me what is so important that you needed to interrupt both of our schedules."

"Right, yes. Please take a seat." She gestured toward the chair across from her own and he sits, only because it's polite. "So," She flips over a page in the notebook in front of her. "Regulus hit another student."

Coryo's eyebrows raise, and he turns to look at his son who's still pouting in the corner. "Come here, please." He pages him, and he saunters over, refusing to make eye contact with either of the adults in the room.

"Why?" Coryo asks him as he takes the empty seat next to him. The boy shrugs, still avoiding their gaze.

Coryo sighs. "Would you mind, Persephone? What happened?"

"Apparently..." She glances at her notes again. "Another student took his pencil without asking first and didn't give it back because, quote, 'they needed it and he had plenty'." She explains, looking up at them again. Regulus was the striking image of his father, his hair in the same longer somewhat disheveled curls that she used to remember on the man sitting next to him when they were that age.

"That's it?" Coryo asks.

"He hit him on the head, he's in the nurses office now being assessed for a concussion."

"Okay..?" He chuckles slightly in response. "Why did you have to call us?"

"Because this is a serious disciplinary issue." She scoffs, gesturing to his son.

Coryo looks between the two of them. "Okay, well, he looks like he feels bad, and I'll have my staff send an apology letter to the boys parents." He says, standing up again and tucking the chair back in. "Come on, kid. Let's go."

"Coriolanus, respectfully, this is more severe than that." Persephone interrupts. "We won't allow students to go around hurting others- especially over something so menial as a pencil. Eight years is too old for that kind of behaviour."

"You know his mother- don't you?" Coryo asks, raising an eyebrow at her. "I promise you, Dean Price, this is not serious." He turns then to his son. "Grab your stuff, I'll take you home." He says, and the little blonde boy rushes back to the corner to grab his bag.

"Coriolanus." She says again, exasperated by his lack of concern.

"Oh, and please tell the other boy that theft is not tolerated in Panem. He's lucky we won't have him executed." Coryo says, feigning a genuine smile at her with a sharp nod. He knows this isn't true, that executing a child over something so petty would never be considered in the Capitol, it would just be wasteful, but maybe next time he would think before stealing from the Presidents son.

She gives up at this, sighing as they walk toward the door.

Coryo shuts the door behind them, reaching forward to ruffle his son's hair.

The boy giggles, pouting and trying to fix it. "Dad.." He laughs, looking back up at him. "You're not upset with me, are you?"

"No, of course not." He grins, leaning down and placing a hand on his shoulder as they walk. "Did you know that your Dean is a cannibal?" He whispers, giving a quick nod to the girls at the reception desk as they pass.

Regulus gasps, looking up at him. "Is she really?"

"Yes." Coryo nods. "Tell your friends."

"Ew..." His son shivers, and Coryo smiles.

"I know right? Gross." He laughs quietly as they step out into the hall. "Now, where's your sister?"

"She's in English." Regulus answers and Coryo nods, leading him up the stairs and toward the classroom.

Once again, Coryo doesn't bother knocking before opening the door to his daughter's classroom.

Everyone looks up at once and the teacher pauses, gasps and whispers filling the room.

"Daddy!" Regan smiles, standing quickly and running down the stairs to the door, throwing her arms around his waist.

"Hi, Gem." He chuckles slightly, rubbing her back as she clings to him.

"President Snow..." The teacher smiles nervously. "We weren't expecting a visit today, but we were just discussing the significance of The Hunger Games and it's depictions in literature, would you care to comment?"

"Oh, interesting!" He grins, glancing back to Regulus waiting just outside. "I would love to, but Regan's mother is really the one to speak to about all that. Unfortunately, I'm busy today but perhaps we can get her in one day to speak in one of your lessons?"

"That would be wonderful." Her teacher smiles. "Then, what brings you in?"

"Oh, yes. Sorry for interrupting, but I'll be pulling Regan for the day." He explains and his daughter gasps, looking up at him with excitement. "Yeah." He whispers to her, patting her head. "Go get your things."

"Oh! Okay, did you sign her out? Typically they would call me beforehand." The teacher replies as Regan goes back to her seat, grabbing her things and being not so sneaky about sticking her tongue out at her classmates.

"No, I just decided to grab her while I was here. Just call the office and let them know I took her." He smiles, opening his arm to his daughter again as she comes back.

Regan practically skips out of the room, super excited to be free of something she already hears about endlessly at home. "What happened, Daddy? Why are we leaving?" She asks, grabbing her father's hand.

"Well, my schedule cleared up and I just thought 'Hm... I sure am missing my favourite girl today,' and then I remembered your last report card and how incredibly well you are doing and decided you deserved a day off."

"Really?!" She squeals, practically vibrating with excitement.

"Of course, Sweetheart." Coryo chuckles, scooping her up to carry her down the stairs.

"Lux, what would you like to do today? Anything you want." He looks down at the boy walking next to them.

"Uh, I'm not sure."

"Daddy, can we go see Mum?" Regan asks, looking up at him with a hopeful sparkle in her eyes. "I want to see her pets!"

Coryo chews the inside of his cheek. It's certainly not a good time, but if he would be with them maybe they could just sneak in to say hello. He found it extremely difficult to say no to her. "Sure, Darling." He nods, opening the front door to the academy.

"Okay, remember, Mum is very busy so we're just going to pop in to say hello, and if she says it's okay we can go see her pets." Coryo explains to the kids as they get out of the car outside the Citadel. "We're going to be quiet, and not touch a single thing unless I say it's okay."

Regan's blonde pigtails bounce as she runs up the stairs in front of the building, having abandoned her bag in the car. Regulus is right on her heels, reaching for her hair as if he's going to pull it.

They were under a year apart in age, 'district twins', as Ma Plinth had dubbed them when Regan was born. When you were expecting your son, the games were difficult to plan and execute. You would never admit it, but Coryo could see that the hormones of pregnancy made you almost sympathetic to the tributes and their families- you could hardly even watch the games you spent a year meticulously planning. You spent most of the time you could watch with a bucket in your lap. So when Coryo suggested you have your second right away, you were skeptical. You didn't want to go through that again right away, but he wasn't sure he could convince you to do it again if you decided to wait.

"Let's just get it over with," He had insisted. "Then we'll have our two beautiful babies and you'll never have to do it again. Everything will go back to normal." You couldn't argue with that logic.

So when Regulus was eleven months old, the Capitol was buzzing with excitement over the announcement that the First Lady of Panem had given birth to another child; a baby girl, and she was perfect.

"Gem of Panem! What do we have here?" Your receptionist grins as the three of them stroll in, eyes locked on the kids as Regan holds her head high. The receptionist is rounding the desk, crouching down and opening her arms for the little girl who happily runs into them. "If it isn't the real gem of Panem, how are you, Miss Regan?"

"I'm good." Regan giggles, arms wrapped around the woman's neck. "Daddy picked me up from school early."

"I see that." She chuckles, standing up and lifting the seven year old onto her hip as she looks at Coryo.

"I decided to let the kids have the rest of the day off today, and they wanted to come say hi to Doctor Snow." He explains. "If she has a moment."

"Oh, that's a good question..." The woman nods, gently lowering Regan back to the ground and circling the desk again, pulling up the paper schedule and scanning over it for a moment. "You know what, let me call her and just ask."

Your phone rings on your desk in the corner and you sigh, heels clicking across the floor as you pace over. "I swear to god if it is the school again..." You mumble to yourself, picking up the line. "What is it?"

"Doctor Snow, sorry to bug you, but your family is here."

"My family..." You ask, mind still set on the technical details of the almost prepared arena.

"Yes, Doctor. President Snow has brought your children by, they wish to see you, but only if you have time."

You blink, realizing what she said. "Okay, yes. That's fine. Send them down."

You can hear your kids before you see them, Regan talking away mostly to herself as they step out of the elevator into the part of your lab that held your office. You sigh, quickly removing your leather gloves and fixing the disheveled state of your hair before stepping out into the hall to greet them.

"Mummy!" Your daughter squeals, running toward you as you crouch down to catch her in your arms.

"Hi, Gem..." You laugh slightly, eyes now focussed on Regulus. He's shifting on his feet, standing so close to his father's side that he's almost standing behind him.

"Lux," You let your daughter go, opening your arms to him. "Come here, darling. What's wrong? What happened?"

He doesn't say anything, eyes locked on the ground as he walks up to you and leans into your shoulder. "Are you hurt?" He slightly shakes his head and you pick him up, allowing him to wrap his legs around your waist and arms around your neck.

You look pointedly at your husband.

'I'll tell you about it later' He mouths to you and you nod, gently rubbing circles into the boys back while Regan pulls on your lab coat impatiently.

"Mummm," She whines, already stomping her foot on the ground since your attention was no longer on her. "Mum, I want to see your pets and Daddy said we could."

"I said maybe, Gem." Coryo laughs slightly.

You chew on your lip, not minding the deteriorating state of your red lipstick. You were really anxious to find out what happened with Regulus, so maybe letting the kids entertain themselves for just a moment would allow you a second to talk to Coryo about it.

"Sure, of course you can. We'll just have to be quick, Mum is very busy today." You smile, gently putting your son down as his head perks up at the idea. "Come on." You take his hand, leading them all down the hall to one particularly safe section of your lab.

There are a series of mutts under testing and development here, but in this room close to your office, it contained only small animals like mice and rats, or bugs that the kids never showed much interest in. "Don't touch a thing, okay?" You tell them as you unlock the door.

The kids rush in, running up to a tank and immediately gawking at its contents. You didn't understand why, fully, since they just looked like regular old house mice. Your kids just wanted to be involved, you supposed. The same way Regan enjoyed sitting on Coryo's lap while he gave speeches or did interviews, but Regulus had always shown more of an interest in what you did behind the scenes, not just in front of the cameras.

"What happened?" You ask Coryo quietly as soon as they are sufficiently occupied.

Coryo chuckles, wrapping an arm around your waist and kissing your cheek as you keep your eyes locked on the kids. "Hello to you too."

You sigh, smiling as you lean into him. "Hi. Sorry. I'm just a little stressed."

"I know, love. Don't worry about it." He squeezes your side. "We'll get out of your hair in a few minutes."

"What happened with him?" You ask again.

"He hit another kid." Coryo states plainly and you gasp, turning to fully look at him for the first time.

"What?" You ask, searching his expression for any clue that he may have been kidding.

He shrugs. "They stole his pencil and refused to give it back."

"Oh, well, then they deserved it." You scoff. "Little brat- did you get the names of the parents?"

He laughs quietly, shaking his head and reaching up to hold your cheek. "I handled it. Don't worry about a thing." You don't have the chance to argue before he's kissing you to hush any of your concerns.

You hum against his lips, pressing a hand to his chest. "But, Coryo-"

"I handled it." He reminds you, just gently biting down on your lower lip. You can feel him smiling against you and you hum, allowing yourself to relax for just a moment.

Coryo takes the opportunity to turn to face you fully, dragging his hands down over your hips and backing you against the wall just behind you.

The kids were there, yes, but they were well used to seeing you kiss. It didn't bother either of you, and they had never known anything else. One day they may complain, but until that day came you would take every opportunity granted to you within your mutually tight schedules. Besides, the kids should know what love looks like. High expectations are good expectations, in your opinion.

The moment is interrupted by your phone ringing in your office down the hall and you quickly take a step back. With the tributes already in the Capitol, you couldn't afford to miss a call. Anything could happen- you know that story well.

"I'm sorry, I need to get that." You say and he nods as you turn to the kids. "Lux, Gem, come on. Time to go."

"Mum!" Regan whines, stomping her foot down as she always tended to do. "We just got here, can't we stay a few more minutes?"

"No, Regan. Out. Come on." You motion for them to come and they do, but your daughter in particular looks extremely unpleased as she stomps past you and out the door while Regulus follows with his hands tucked in his pockets. You turn off the light and lock the door.

"Okay, I'll see you at home tonight. Yes?" You kiss your husbands cheek and he smiles, giving you another quick kiss before you disappear into your office and shut the door behind you.

You take the call, and of course it was nothing of importance. So many things had to be run by you as head gamemaker that they felt it necessary to call and confirm the contents of what would be fed to the tributes. It never ended.

You don't even get the time to process where you had left off with your work before you're overwhelmed by voices. Your name being yelled by your husband accompanied by screaming, horrified pained screaming- which you quickly identify as coming from Regan. Your motherly instincts kick in before you even know it and you're throwing your door back open and are standing in the hall.

Coryo rushes out of the elevator with your daughter in his arms, his eyes wide as he moves quickly toward you. "It bit her! Something bit her- I don't know, I-"

You nod; there's no time for questions. "Okay, get her to the exam room." Moving as quickly as possible down the hall, you're grabbing at her little red blazer and pulling the sleeves up as she keeps screaming bloody murder.

You shove the door open and rush inside, for the first time noticing Regulus following behind you. You grab his shirt and pull him in while Coryo quickly lays her on the table. Even in the panic, you couldn't leave him unsupervised anywhere in the lab. Especially if something had escaped.

"Get her top unbuttoned, I'll need her arm free!" You tell Coryo as you shuffle around through the cupboard quickly trying to find everything you were looking for. A syringe, the antidote for whatever it may be. You don't even know. Glancing over your shoulder, her skin looks flushed with red patches showing up on her neck and face; but it could just be from crying.

Coryo's hands are shaking as his daughter continues to scream and cry in his face, making it harder for him to get her blazer off and unbutton her top. "You're going to be okay, darling. Shh, shh... Mum's gonna help." All he can think about while he pulls off her blazer and frees her arms from the little blue shirt is the time that he saw Clemensia Dovecote get bit by one of Gaul's snakes. He thought she was dead, and she walked out of the hospital wishing that she was. She never recovered- but she was quickly given treatment. Much quicker than his seven-year-old daughter, who is also significantly smaller than his friend was at the time.

"What was it? Did you see what it was?" You ask in a panic, bringing over a box and flinging it open next to her on the table.

"I didn't see it! I just saw-"

"It was a mouse." Regulus says, and Coryo turns to him with wide eyes. Luckily, you're all action and you're already filling the syringe with something that should counteract whatever effects the mouse's bite could have on her while he stares at his son. He looks calm, watching the scene with a tilted head. "It was just a mouse, Daddy."

Coryo looks away, grabbing Regan's hand and squeezing it. He didn't have the chance to tell you that whatever it was, apparently this "mouse", had been dropped down the back of Regan's shirt by her brother as soon as the elevator began to lift them. He had done it on purpose. Though, he couldn't have known what was wrong with the creature.

"This is just gonna be a pinch, Gem. Try and take a deep breath for me..." You tell her as you squeeze her arm. She makes no effort to do so, but knowing that the mice were only being designed to cause pain, it didn't surprise you.

"There you go, good girl..." Coryo coos at her as you just as quickly remove the needle, quickly disposing of it as he brushes her hair back from where it clung to her face. Immediately he can see the blood returning to her face, and she's still crying but whatever it was you gave her must have helped with the pain instantly.

"She'll be okay." You sigh in relief, rejoining his side and lifting Regan up so she's sitting. "Can you hold her? I just need to find the bite."

Coryo sits on the table, lifting her into his lap as you look over her arms and ankles. "It's on her back." He tells you, repositioning her carefully so you could see. She wasn't screaming anymore, just sniffling with eyes drooping shut.

You furrow your brow, stepping to his other side to get a look at it, seeing the small swelling area at the top of her back. You grab some disinfectant to quickly clean it before you dress it properly. "What happened?" You ask. "Did she fall?" It was unclear to you how she could have been bitten in such a place without being on the ground.

Coryo doesn't say anything, shifting his gaze over to Regulus again. He's watching you closely and how you're treating the bite, eyes trained on your gloved hands.

When your husband doesn't answer you immediately you look up at him again, and then follow his eyes to your son. "What did you do?" You ask him, plastering the gauze onto your daughter's back.

"I just wanted to know what would happen, Mummy." He says simply.

"You knew what would happen, Lux. I've told you so many times not to touch anything. That it's not safe, and one of you could get hurt." You frown, packing up your first aid kit before going over to him, and kneeling down in front of the blonde boy. "I know you're interested in what I do, and I love that, but if you have questions you have to ask. Not do experiments yourself."

You grab his arms to get him to look at you again. "Hey, I'm not mad at you." You say softly. "I just need you to be careful. You're smarter than this."

He nods, wrapping his arms around your neck and hugging you. You sigh as you hug him back. "You can't hurt your sister, darling. We're a team. Do you understand?"

"I do. It was just a mouse, I didn't think it would be that bad. I'm sorry." He agrees quietly, eyes still locked on his sister as his dad cradles her gently in his arms. She's passed out against his chest, holding her as close as he possibly can.

He shakes his head at his son, trying to display his clear disappointment. It would quickly be noticed if his daughter, the President's daughter, fell ill, and he knew he would have to jump through hoops to cover up her recovery and that the very reason for it was her own brother.

Regulus Snow was his mother's son, and Coriolanus didn't believe his apology one bit.

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[kaq3yma]

𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐅𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐅𝐀𝐂𝐀𝐃𝐄 featuring hayato suo

syn: in which your nice, and kind housemate turn to an absolute different person because you gave your lunch to someone else.

⸻ cw: mentions of hayato suo with yandere tendencies, slight hurt, cameo tsubaki-chan, timeskip suo, aged up reader, and not yet proofread

qeena's brief note: (yayyyyy suo won the poll) ellooo, qeena's here with a (kinda) soft yandere! hayato suo (づ ᴗ _ᴗ)づ♡ idk how i did this but uhm okay, decent ig ૮₍´˶• . • ⑅ ₎ა like i said, this fic is not yet proofread so do beware of typos/grammatical errors (i did this for one hour straight, no break + it's currently 2:21 ish (╥﹏╥) this fic is by far by longest fic to write on this acc but i still think it's a bit rush lol, idk how many words cus too lazy to count but it's long, not 5k words long but it's long. i hope my sayang, especially the suo girlies enjoy the fic, thank you, i love you, reblogs and comments are very much appreciated and happy reading xoxo 🩷💚

tags: @reapkusho @yueliie @littleplantfreak @meidiary @megutime @kajibunny @taronyuhunter @iid-smile @petitte-writer @kobunnie @kyanmapng & @w1nterszn (dm me if you want me to remove you from my tag. dm me if you want me to tag you on my next fic)

What would you address a person who cooks for you, iron your clothes for you, help you with chores, and share the same house as you if not your boyfriend? A housemate? Sure... Suo is your housemate and your friend. After you both graduated from school and got enrolled to a university, you and Suo live together for the sake of nothing, simply agreed that it'll be more convenient.

Now, Suo works for himself, he got his own business going around and he prefers to work from home which is why he do most of your tasks for you. You, however, work as an office clerk. Everyday, like usual, you'd wake up and get dressed as Suo ready your lunch box for you "Morning..." You grab your bag and your purse, putting on your shoes and your coat by the porch, waiting for Suo to come "Here, make sure you eat your lunch, alright? Even the vegetables." You look at him, face contorts in a mixture of disgust and reluctance "Sure..." He bids you good bye, one hand behind himself and he watches you disappears.

You continue typing in on your keyboards, busy attending works when your colleague, Tsubakino, came to you "Y/n-chan, still tending works?" You look at the pretty male before you, nodding your head with a pout "Yes, I got loads of them. I don't think I can make up for my lunch." Tsubaki look at you with a pitiful look "That's too bad, this lunch smells so good! Your boyfriend must've put a lot of effort into making it!" Your eyes widen at their absurd assumption "Tsubaki-chan, I told you we're housemates only, there's nothing going on!" They laugh, taking a sit beside you "Really? He takes good care of you, you always look neat and he made you lunches everyday. Even if you both are not in a relationship, I'm sure he has feelings for you~" Tsubaki put with a singsong tone, giggling when you playfully hit their arm.

You look at the neglected lunchbox siting on your desk. You really wanted to eat anything, especially Suo's food but you got so many works to do and you don't think you'll have time to eat "Tsubaki-chan, how about you eat them for me?"

You need not tell Tsubaki twice for them to snatch the lunchbox and open the lid. The immediate aromatic smell lingers in the air, almost make you wanted to yank the box back. You look up front, acting busy with your job, and eyes didn't glance back at Tsubaki as they begin indulge theirselves on the delicious dish.

"I'm home..." You smile, seeing Suo's head peak from the wall "Welcome back, come on, dinner's ready." You saunter to the table, taking a seat for yourself and put your stuff down "What are we having?" Suo only smiled at you, taking your lunchbox bag and put it in the sink "Secret... You'll know when it's ready." You wait patiently, watching him move around the kitchen until he came back with a plate of your favorite food "Suo!" You beamed, looking as excited as ever.

He take a set of utensils for you, smiling once again "Eat a lot, okay?" He pat you on the head before making his way back to the counter. You pick your utensils and begin consuming the tasty food Suo had prepared you.

"Su-" A loud thud and clanking shut you off, your eyes move from your food to his back "What's the mat-" This time, his voice cut you off, he speak in a calm, soft manner but it's quiet and low you can barely make it out if hadn't you hear properly "How unusual..."

"You eat everything, even the vegetables." Crap, did he caught you? Impossible, how could he-

"Never once would you finish your lunch, not with the veggies. You couldn't possibly be giving your lunch to somebody else, would you, Y/n?" The eye-patched man turn around, and he's no longer smiling. He look down at you, amble to your side and lean down "How hurtful, I made them special for you but you gave them to someone else."

"Suo, I..." He stood up, turn around and walk away. Before he does so, he turn his head slightly at you "You should hurry eat and shower. You smell... Different." He walk into his room, almost slammed the door and lock it.

That's the first time he ever got so mad at you. Over lunch? Sounds unreasonable but he did said he made them specifically for you and giving them to someone else does seem a bit disrespectful. You sighed, recontinue to eat your dinner in silent and went up to your room after washing the dirty dishes.

The next morning, you woke e up, shower and get dressed like usual. You went down to the kitchen seeing Suo, making your lunch for you "Good morning," He smile, acting as if nothing happened the previous night. You get your stuff ready, waiting for him until he came "Thanks," Neither of you said anything for a couple of minutes until you remark a "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have gave my lunch to another person. I'll make sure to eat them by myself from now on, I promise."

He said nothing, one hand moving upward to stroke your hair and grin "It's alright, you promised... But, make sure this time you eat even the vegetables okay?" The mere mentioned of it stirred a sense of repulsion in you "But..." The male hardened look is enough to make you sighed in defeat.

"I'll try..." He smile, nodding his head in accepting manner and bid you off.

It's been a week since the incident of weird Suo encountered. You talked it out with Tsubakino and they started squealing excitedly, claiming Suo was feeling jealous, overprotective and they even said his behavior is a tendency of a yandere or whatever that means.

You're working on your desk when Tsubakino came up to you, unusually depressed "Tsubaki-chan, what's wrong?" The long-haired male sat down next to you, bottom lip jut out in frustration. Tsubaki started talking about this guy they're interested in and that they needed your help if possible.

Tsubakino plan for a dinner after work and how can you say no to them and their beautiful smile and gleaming eyes. You texted Suo, saying you won't be able to make it to dinner because your colleague wanted to consult about something.

Before you got a reply, Tsubakino started to wish desperately for a "no" reply but all you get was a "OK" sticker reaction from him.

"How boring!" They claimed, hugging your arm affectionately.

The dinner went well, Tsubaki asked every possible questions to you so you can help them with this "Ume-chan" guy. But, one thing didn't go as plan, Tsubakino ended getting so frustrated at some point they can't help but order one alcoholic drink after another. The pretty male couldn't leave you alone either so they got you drunk as well, only thing is, you're not as much as a good drinker as they are. Two cups is enough to knock you light.

Tsubaki help you got out of the place after, carrying you on their shoulder with a tired groan "Y/n-chan. You're such a light drinker!" You giggle at them, hiccuping a few times before passing out once again.

Tsubakino carry you as far as to a nearby stop and put you down, slouching you against the wall and get your phone. They begin scrolling through your contacts, searching for a particular name of somebody until "Suo <3"

"I knew you like him too!~"

"Huh?" Still drunk and wasted, you opened one eye to look around only to realize you're on someone's back "Suo!" You slurred, hugging the man's neck as he carry you "When you wake up tomorrow, you're so done." You giggle, hiding your face in between the nape of his neck "You're being childish, sho cute!~" You're very drunk right now so he'll let you off the hook tonight.

However when you wake up the next morning, you certainly did not expect yourself in Suo's room with him on the side. You tried to got up as sneakily as possible but he caught you, pushing you back to bed "Where do you think you're going?"

"My bedroom?" The male laugh, pushing his hair back and turn to look at you in the eyes "Just what the hell happened last night?" It's scary how sudden his mood can switched. One moment he's alright and the next thing you know is he's angered, eyes cold and facial indiffirent.

"What do you mean? I... I-" He pinned you down, his earrings dangle when he cage you in between his arms and lean down "Would it scares you if I said I don't like you going around with another person? Would it scares you if I said I don't like knowing another person ate the lunch I made for you? Would it scares you if I said I think of bounding you next to me, caging you like a bird so you'll stick close to me? Would it scares you knowing how much I like you... To the point that I'd rather die than losing you?"

People can ask the past you would you ever expect the calm, collected Suo to act so heart-wrenching and deeply saddened and you'd say no. Never in your wildest dream would you expect him to lose himself over you.

This Suo right here does not scares you, if anything, it surprises you. You never know your mere existence could affect one's being so much, much less Suo's. He said he'll die without you around. Is that a good thing? It doesn't sound like it but why is your heart pounding? It's pounding so hard you can hardly breathe. Maybe, it's because you're relief, relieved that he needed you as much as you needed him.

"I'll do anything..." He bury his face in between the crook of your neck "So just stick close to me, never went on dinner without me again. Never consult someone without me again. Never do anything without me, ever again."

"I'm sorry," His eyes widen, they expanded twice it's size when you put your arms around him, tightly embrace him in your warmth. He sought, pushing himself further onto you and hug you as tightly as he could.

You are not mad at him. You are hugging him, you are sorry even though he should be the one who's sorry - for feeding you off with his fake facade. His fake, nice, facade "No, I'm sorry-"

"I hope all pests leave you alone! You're only mine." The maroon-ish brown haired male continue hugging you tightly, sniffing on your sweet like a nectar scent "You sent me off everyday with these kinds of wishes?!"

𝐑𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓 is open. all rights reserved goes to @kaq3yma on tumblr.

[slimybeth69]

Touch: Part 6

Rating: explicit (smut, language)

Summary: Din has another special 'gift' for you-- and then some unfortunate news.

tags: I'm not giving any tags or warnings for this chapter. It's smutty and angsty. Beware. You are responsible for the things you consume.

a/n: I've said it before and I'll say it again. If you read this on ao3, no you fucking didn't. It's still unbeta'd, but proofread!! I did that this time!! I also am re-working the story slightly because I CAN. Spoilers to the show and the book of boba fet and maybe the next season because I helped J. Faveau write it.

The whole day was so much fun. So different than after your arrival yesterday.

Din showed you how to fix certain things on the ship should they break while he isn't here. He also showed you the beginning stages of piloting and flying the ship were you to ever have to do such a thing.

You hope not.

Din is being mostly nice to you, and is acting like he wants to spend time with you. It's a stark contrast to how he treated you before he saw your doodles.

Din never once laid a hand on you, not even a handshake the first night you met.

It's so very subtle, his touches now that you're back— gentle ghosts of the yellow leather across the tops of your hand when he's showing you the buttons on the control panel. He had placed a strong hand on your waist to ground you so he could reach around you from behind to grab something off of a shelf.

Not innocent touches by any means, but they were different from your dynamic when the lights were off.

Things felt good, almost like they did right before you went to go 'play Jedi' on a planet you had never heard of before you got dropped off on it.

You’re not mad he left you on Ossus. No. You wanted that. You wanted to live on that planet so bad you begged him. Basically told him that you’d stay there no matter what he said. So, he made it happen for you. Din spoke to Luke and Ahsoka privately while you and the child sat in the grass, watching from afar. It was scary not knowing what their answer would be. When Din returned he said that they would take you in, only if you trained with Ahsoka.

Which was a very sweet gesture. 

Until he left you there for two years. All you did was train! Not being a child meant there was no need for the schooling and the classes that the younglings took. You trained day in and day out. Like a Jedi.

Ahsoka was hard on you, trained you like you were already strong and powerful; you weren’t in the beginning and it was hard. So hard you thought you wouldn’t make it. You did make it though— made it out stronger and faster than before. Better on your feet and more capable than you ever thought possible.

Luke and Ahsoka were so smart— almost like they knew you couldn't resist him.

They are selfish and cruel for doing that to you and Din! Neither one of them even told you they were doing it.

There is still a part inside of you that's furious that Din didn't throw things around and demand to see you! He is a bounty-hunter in a metal suit! He could have made a couple dents and holds in that sex forsaken temple!

Din is the reason you didn’t get offered a lightsaber of your own. That's the only reason. It has to be, you were such a good Jedi outside of the fact that you spoke about Din to Ahsoka daily. All the time when you weren't running until your lungs gave our or being beaten with sticks!

Whatever. You don’t even really care anymore. Barely think about not being offered a lightsaber at all. Almost never.

Right this very second though… you’re looking at the amored man you’ve been pining after for so long, and he’s standing there in only his helmet and the black pants he wears under his beskar.

Getting ready to fight you .

You have nothing but your nightgown on! What does he expect you to do?

Din The Mandalorian shakes his hands out like he’s loosening them up. You’re unimpressed with this foolishness.

This is what children do and you and him are not children. It has absolutely nothing to with the fact that you might be nervous, the butterflies in your belly are going crazy right now. 

“You want me to…wrestle you?” You wrinkle your face up at him.

Din quickly shifts his body weight from foot to foot and holds his hands up to block— the Maker- loving helmet. As if his helmet wouldn’t completely crush every single bone in every single one of your fingers.

That is not even close to where you would aim, if you were to wrestle and fight with him, like he’s asking but you’re not going to. This is a ruse of some sort, you’re sure of it. 

“Yes.” Din’s two fingers pop up from his fist and he curls them to beckon you over to him. His helmet tilts to the side ever so slightly.

This cannot be happening. He is much bigger than you. Towers over you practically. His shoulders are so broad and he is so strong! If there was one thing you never forgot, even in those two long years, is how much he held back when he touched you! He can’t be serious.

You cock an eyebrow up at him, “In my nightgown?” Looking down, you hold your white nightgown up to him -like he can’t already see it. It’s quite thin, nothing you’d wear to fight in! The fabric goes all the way down to the floor, what does he expect you to do? Really fight him in it?

“It’s white and long. And I have nothing underneath,” your voice wavers slightly as you blink at him again, still not understanding why he wants to do this. You two were just cleaning up the ship together. Picking up after Grogu, who leaves a mess in his path no matter where he’s going or coming from. You follow him around all day and don’t understand how he gets into half the stuff he does.

“I know it’s white, and long." Din starts to circle you slowly. "I can see quite well in my helmet, did you forget?"

There is a weird bashfulness to you right now. It's hard to look at him because you can't fight the smile that's curling at the corners of your mouth, so you keep your eyes on your nightgown and don't even notice that Din has started to move around you slowly.

“It's pretty on you.”

That makes the heat creep up your neck and behind your cheeks. You try to hold back that smile but it’s hard.

“Why do you want to fight?” You look up and he’s two feet to your left. You turn to face him now, “I don’t understand. I don’t think I get anything about you.” You keep shuffling your feet to follow him as he keeps circling. Again so slow, you don’t even notice. He’s so smooth. So graceful.

“You don’t need to understand.” Din speaks calmly from behind the helmet. “You like making me happy. So c’mon. Take your best shot.” He takes one step calculated step forward.

The last two years flood back to you immediately at this sudden and familiar move. You bend your knees slightly and cover your face with your fists, your elbows are tucked neatly into your sides. Just like in training. You took enough rods to the sides and ribs and chest and elbows. You eye him carefully and shift your weight to your back leg.

“Good form," Din says, taking another small step forward.

You drop your right foot back and drag your left across the floor seamlessly an a slow and deliberate attempt to put distance between yourself and the metal man. You try and read him, but it's impossible with his helmet. Ahsoka told you to always watch your opponents eyes- they would tell you where they would try to place their attack.

“You have the upper hand with that helmet.” You start to side step slowly like he is. The tension in the room is palpable. You can drink it out of the air you’re breathing. “You better play fair. I’ll be upset with you if you don’t.” You’re waiting for him to make the first move but he wont. 

“I’ll be honest, I’m rusty with my hand to hand. It’ll be good practice.” Din snickers from the modulator. You raise an eyebrow. You’ve gone two full rotations around where you had been standing before. “But…I can bring you in warm, or I can bring you in cold. Up to you.” You think you can hear the smirk on his face behind the helmet.

“Oohh. Warm or cold. So scary .” You mock Din teasingly. You’ve mindlessly coordinated it so that with every step he takes to his right, you take one to your right at the same time. You’ve synced up your movements with his, just like Ahsoka taught you how to do. You anticipate what he’s going to do even though you can’t see his eyes or face, which is where you should look if your opponent isn’t wearing a mask. If they are, you watch their muscles. Those will tell you where they’re getting ready to strike from.

You scan his entire body quickly. His shoulder muscles are tensing and he’s going to  come forward with his left arm, you can see it. His right leg flexes slightly. The whole thing goes through your brain in a matter of milliseconds.

That’s when he takes a step towards you with speed and his left hand opens and lightly comes around and tries to swing and graze your cheek or forehead or maybe your chin. You see it coming, anticipating it in your calm mind. The top half of your body leans back about four inches, just out of his reach. 

You’ve taken note this entire time exactly where you were going to go for if he made his move and while his arm is crossing over his chest you duck quickly, just below his arm. With a very flat and stiff right hand, you surge forward and connect with the pressure point in his left shoulder.

 Din’s left arm goes limp immediately, and he makes a sound of shocked pain from under that useful helmet. It didn't help him see that coming, it sure didn't. He drops his other arm from his hYou think about tapping him on the helmet with your fingers in his defenseless position but you think that would be rude. A real punch to his ego. 

“Wh-” Din’s helmet snaps between you and his shoulder twice. “You- How did you do that?” Din’s stunned. Can’t believe you just disabled him. You. The girl. The crier. The girl with feelings and all those things. Yeah, he can’t believe you just put your hands on him like that and it actually hurt.

“ Did you not want to fight ?” You smirk at him and stop moving. Din looks down at his shoulder for a long time. Then his helmet snaps back up to you. 

“I was going to go easy on you.” Din said, pointing to his shoulder. “This isn’t easy.” You shake your head at him and shrug your shoulders. You wish you felt bad for him but you actually feel a little better for the fact that he was so cold to you on your first meeting in two years. Even if you were cold to him. Why wouldn’t you have been? He abandoned you on a Maker forsaken planet covered in trees and shrubs and mountains. Okay. The planet was beautiful. A place you wish he would have dropped you off but regardless.

“How was I supposed to know that? You just said you wanted to fight?” You’re watching him as he rubs his shoulder gently and begins to move in circles in the socket. You’re still backing away from him slowly. It’s instinctual, you’re just taking small little shuffled steps back. 

“I said I wanted to spar .” Din’s hand fell from his shoulder and now his full attention is on you. It gives you nervous butterflies. You shake your head at him and point one finger in his direction. 

“You never said spar, you said fight and wrestle. So how is that the same?” You put your hands on your hips and watch him. You see Din’s legs flex and you know what’s coming; Din is chasing you. It makes your stomach drop and your feet dance on the ground for a second as he’s running. Quickly. You sidestep him and run in the opposite direction, out of the room you’re in and down the long hallway of rooms that have little meaning to you.

Besides that there are weapons in them. You keep the kid out of there. It’s been a pretty difficult task so far. Grogu has been the most fun you’ve ever seen him. He’s so independent and doesn’t really eat a lot of bugs anymore but, oh my Maker. The kid’s getting into everything. It’s blowing your mind. The Force is making him a pain in the ass. 

Din has to skip stop when you dodge him and turn in the other direction to chase after you but you’ve already turned into one of the unnamed rooms; a place to hide? You start to look. There is nowhere and now you regret coming in here because it’s just a flat metal table in the center with a bunch of guns on the wall. 

You turn around and Din is in the doorway. He’s blocking your only exit. His hands are on the door frame and he’s an X in the rectangle that leads you to freedom. His chest is rising and falling and his helmet is looking at the floor for a moment until he tilts it up to look at you.

“Hi.” You have a sheepish smile on your face. You’re standing on the far end of the metal table. Din lets his arms fall to his side and walks in, keeping his body between you and the door. His footsteps are slow. You have no idea what he’s going to do. Jump up on the table maybe?

“Hi.” He pant’s softly. “ Why’d you run ?” He’s standing on the opposite side of the table from you. You blink at him. 

“ You chased me!” You point at him. This is so much fun. You love floating in the stars, running around the ship. Watching him be like this around you makes you feel good. Makes you feel so special and your heart is racing because you’re nervous and you love this.

Din says nothing. He just stands there at the other edge of the table. His arms are at his sides and he’s not moving. He doesn’t even look–

The table suddenly and very quickly slides to your left with a jarringly loud honking, screech across the metal floor. You jump back in shock and alarm and you're pressed against the wall behind you, before you can react Din is taking forward steps towards you. You jump to the right and try to dodge him but the room is too small and he wraps his arm around you waist and pulls you into him

“That’s not chasing.” He rasps. 

“Oh my Maker. Yes , that is exactly what being chased is.” You laugh and turn so you can face him. Din’s helmet is tilted down at you. You can feel him looking at your face. You wish you could see him. So badly you wish. Even with all your Jedi training you still want selfish things and wish to see. 

“Do you remember what we did the other night?” He asks. You nod and raise an eyebrow. What new weird thing could this helmeted man want from you? You’ve loved every single one of his weird ideas though, so you look up at him dreamily. 

“I do.” You smile and bat your eyelashes at him. “Were you wanting to do it again?” You interlace your fingers and place them under your chin. You give him your best attempt at big saucer eyes but it does not work. 

“No.” He rasps, gazing down at you. You drop the smile and frown. "Something like that." You lift an eyebrow and look him up and down.

“Oh.” You pull away from him but Din holds you closely and tightly. “What do you want then? Always wanting.” You tease him, because he's a giver. A hard giver who doesn't ask for much in return and it's honestly felt almost too easy. Like, when is the other shoe going to drop. Why does he do that? Give give give. Din has the strangest requests of anyone ever. But you don't hate them.

“I give too. I want to give you something right now.” Din starts to rub himself through his black pants. 

Maker…is it actually happening? Is Din going to give it to you tonight? Finally?

“Will you get on your knees for me? Perfect, pretty little one–in her white dress. Please?” Why does he do this to you? His voice, even behind the rasp of the modulator is so mesmerizing, especially when he talks like that . You almost don’t even feel yourself sinking down to your knees. It’s like his words hypnotized you or put you in a trance. 

You look up at him while he towers over you with his big, broad shoulders. You can’t help but smile up at him happily, happy that you’re here. One of his big, strong, calloused hands touches your cheek softly. His palm connects with it. Maker, did you send him from flames ? Like from real actual flames because he is always so hot. It used to really worry you, but now, now it’s his familiar touch in the dark when you need him. But it wasn’t dark now. He wanted you to see, and he wanted to see you with no night vision. 

“Pretty lips.” His thumb starts to rub over them, dragging them along with his digit gently. “I thought about these lips every day. Kissing them. Licking them. Putting my cock between them. ” When Din says this, between your legs starts to strum happily, like he just started your engine. “I want to be in your throat. So badly. Perfect little one , so badly.” You love the way he’s speaking to you. So nice and sweet and kinda naughty. His thumb pulls your bottom lip down gently and then releases it back up to your top lip with the softest popping sound.

You take his thumb into your mouth without asking, without him offering it. Just suck it between your lips because you just want him to know what you’re willing to give him. You slide the soft warmth of your mouth over the rough pad of his thumb. Helmet never leaves your face. You start trying to Jedi force fuck him into taking if off but you know it’s futile, you don’t have the force in you. Not even a little. You do have his thumb in your mouth though and you're sucking on it softly, trying to make him give you the real thing. Din pulls his hand away and his thumb leaves your mouth with a sucking, wet pop.

“Maker. She is perfect and beautiful.” One hand finds your hair, fingers comb through it so lovingly. So carefully. Din finds a good handful right at the top of your head and grips gently. He lets out a sigh as his other hand leaves your face and pushes the front of his pants down. You’re eager to help, gripping the sides with your fingers and pulling them down to the middle of his thigh. 

“Can I, please?” You whisper, leaning forward towards his length but his grip in your hair tightens and he pulls you away. Din’s free hand finds his base and squeezes gently. “Please?” You can’t take your eyes off of it, like it’s casting a spell on you or something. “ Please?” You finally look up to Din who’s gazing down at you still. Once you look up to him, he moves his hips forward slightly. 

The tip of his cock presses against your lip as his thumb did earlier. Gently. The hot skin pulls your lips wherever it goes and you stick your tongue out to taste the leaking drop of precome from it. It makes Din’s whole body shudder as you flick the tip along his slit and wrap your lips around the tip. You use a little suction to pull him in and then you wrap one hand right above him and start to move it slowly back and forth.

Din groans softly and lets you. You move your hand and take as much of him as you can and then slide everything but the tip out and replace your hand, jerking him slowly while you suck and swirl your tongue around it, paying special attention to his seam. You can feel him trembling at your touch. Your fist never stops moving on his shaft. 

“ Fuck - ing– Maker.” Din breathes heavily. His hips start to buck forward ever so slightly as you start pulling him deeper into your mouth as you stroke him. “Yes. Yes.” Din’s raspy modulated moan is music to your ears as he moves his hand from the base so you can hold him there. You take him until he’s in the back of your throat. “Yes. Please.” It sounds like he’s holding his breath under that helmet again. But you tease him and pull away to just the tip again. He lets out a disappointed sigh. He was holding his breath.

You stroke him again, swirling your tongue. Then you take him into your mouth again, holding him at the base. The tip of your nose touches your fist.

“It’s so perfect. So good. Yes. Yes. So good.” Din strains them out from somewhere in his throat.  He starts bucking his hips forward like he can’t control himself. It makes you gag softly. “ Fuck it’s so good,” His modulated rasp groans come from deep in his chest. Din’s only moving a couple inches. Just fucking your face softly and you let him. Your other hand comes up and wraps around the back of his leg, pulling him into you gently.

Din’s engine must be back there because his hips start to thrust a little faster, the head of his cock slipping further and further back down your throat while his drives forward start a little more aggressive. You do your best to try and relax everything inside of you. Every ounce of resistance that you have, you try and make it go away because you want to make Din feel the way he makes you feel. Mind shatteringly good. 

“Oh fuck.” Din groans deeply, his fingers grip your hair tighter. “Yes. Little one, you like taking my c-cock like this?” You look up to his helmet and he’s gazing down at you. He’s got his free hand on the wall of the ship and he’s leaning on it for support. You nod as much as you can and moan a throaty sound of pleasure. It makes Din’s knees buckle. You do it again and watch as his hand starts to mindlessly search for something he’s not really looking for on the wall.

You pull him deeper, sucking gently on the hardness in your mouth. Your tongue ungulates against the veiny skin on his shaft. His searching hand leaves the wall and finds your hair. Din pulls you down onto his cock completely, entirely. You gag but you also feel warmth in the back of your throat. It makes you cough against him but he holds you down to his base with his hand. 

It’s like he’s choking you, cutting off your airway. You relax your throat as much as you can, even though it’s kind of scary and you’ve never really seen Din like this. It’s not bad, it’s not terrible. It’s a little jarring, but you relax and you take him deeper than you thought you could. Even though you're gagging around it a little harder. The head of his cock is nestled right in the back of your throat and he’s coming. It’s like Din couldn’t help it, the way he’s holding you down onto him. 

“ Ohh-fuck– Ohhh, l-little pretty one.” Din chokes out, his hips thrusting forward while he pushes and pulls your head to and from the base of his cock. “Throat s-so perfect…come inside it– fuck.” Din’s head falls back as you feel the length of him throb inside your mouth with each release.

You are doing your absolute best to take everything he gives you but it’s impossible, you have to push yourself off of him before you either gag too hard or choke on what he’s giving you. 

The minute your hands touch Din’s waist and press against him, the grip he has on your hair softens and he pulls his hips back from your face. His cock leaves your throat and mouth with the most filthy wet squelch you’ve ever heard and you drop to the floor, coughing and choking on everything that’s built up over this escapade that you two have been participating in; saliva, Din’s release.

There is so much of it. 

Tears come to your eyes as you try and keep everything in your mouth. You swallow it quickly and continue to cough, rubbing at the drool that’s dripping from the base of your chin with the back of your hand. That was rough. Very rough. So aggressive and unexpected. It wasn’t that you didn’t love it. It was just hard. And now you’re coughing so hard you feel like you might be sick. 

Din is beside you, pants up around his waist again. His hand is on your back now but the heat from his fingertips on your shoulders is making you sweat even worse. You are already so hot. From the activity, from the coughing. It’s so overwhelming. You shrug his hand off and crawl two inches to the right of him and try to breathe but it’s so hard. Tears are rolling out of your eyes and directly onto the floor below you. 

“W-wat–” More choking. You can’t even get words out but Din is already standing, running into the dining area to get you what you’re asking for. You stay on the ground, breathing in quick, shallow gasps in between fits of sputtering and wheezing. Din’s padded footsteps on the floor of the ship and then there is a metal canteen of water in front of you. You grab at it; the top has already been twisted off for you. 

You take the smallest sip and try to quench the itch making you unable to stop this fit. The water helps tremendously, you sip and then sip again. Cough and sputter. Sip and then gulp. More gulps. It’s so good. So refreshing. Everything about this is heaven right now. You sit back on your bottom, taking in another pull off the canteen before you stop. And gasp. For what feels like ten minutes

Din is beside you again, sitting, holding your shoulders and now his warmth feels inviting. You lean into him and he braces and supports all of the weight you decide to put against him, which is a lot. You’re tired and that was physically exhausting even though you feel like you sat on your knees the whole time. Din did most of the work. His fingertips are so soft when they graze down the side of your arms, he’s being so gentle. 

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, little one are you okay?” Din’s voice is so soft now, so caring and concerned for you. You look at yourself in the face visor and see your tear stained cheeks and how flushed red they are from everything you’ve been through in the last ten minutes. Your hair is a mess and your lips are puffy and red. Din touches your cheek softly and rubs his fingers over your bottom lip. “I’m sorry.”

“ That’s what you wanted to give me?” Your voice is gravelly and deep. You have to clear your throat and take another sip of water. Din’s modulated chuckle makes you smirk. He’s gazing at you, his fingertip still touching and caressing your bottom lip while you stare into his face visor, watching his finger in the reflection. 

“I hope you didn’t hate it.” Soft. Apologetic. Sweet.

You shake your head at him and pant heavily. You didn’t hate it. Needed more warning from Din though. It’s okay. You’d do anything for him— you’re pretty sure as long as it didn’t kill you. You might though, if it meant keeping him safe. You want to keep Din safe, make sure that he always gets back on this ship with you and the green child. 

You proved to Din tonight that you could.

“You’re to stay beside me the whole time.” Din is placing Grogu's bag over your shoulder. “I’ll answer any questions you might have when we get back on the ship, alright? Try not to interrupt.” Din tilts the helmet down at you after he places Grogu in the bag.

Your head snaps down at him. “You’ve never seen me interact with one single other person since we’ve known each other. How would you know if I interrupted? I’m very polite. I wait for my turn.” You snip at him and cover the child with your fancy new robe you got from Ahsoka before you left. It’s got a nice hood that’s up over your face now. 

“Just please follow my instructions. Don’t make me regret this. You or Grogu," Din places both of his hands on your shoulders and touches the forehead of his helmet to yours. “I’m just trying to keep you safe. Please listen to everything that I tell you? It can be dangerous out there. I mean it. Listen to me.” 

Din leads you off the ship and it’s like a desert out here; so sandy and dusty but he’s parked the ship a ways away from a lake. It’s warm and the sun feels good on your face. You are enjoying all of the scenery around you.

Grogu is peeking out from behind your robe, you move the fabric a little so he can see better.

Something big, bigger than you could ever imagine breaks the surface of the water. You don’t even really see what it is. 

Just its back is huge. You could have landed the ship on the damn thing it was so big. It swims slowly and then returns back to the depth of the lake. You’ve stopped walking to watch and see that Din has not stopped walking, doesn’t notice you’re not beside him anymore. You see how close to the waters edge you are and you jog quickly to catch up to him, peering at the water out of the corner of your eye.

Din leads you into the mouth of a cave and you walk for a long time. It’s nice to stretch your legs, and Din basically told you to just shut up and listen to what he says. So you do. You’ll ask about the giant lake creature when you guys get back on the ship. You wonder where you are. Din didn’t say.

You both walk through the entrance to a large underground room. 

There are Mandalorian people everywhere. You’ve never seen this many before.

A couple in Canto Bight before Din, sure— but never this many. They’re all so tall and so intimidating in their helmets.

You try to keep your head forward and not look at any of them in particular. There is one of them standing on a platform above everyone else. They part for Din and watch as he passes. They look at you while you pass them as well. You hide Grogu behind your robe again. 

“Din Djarin.” The intimidating mandalorian woman speaks loudly. “You have removed your helmet. And what’s worse, you did it at your own free will.” 

What the fuck, Maker? Did you just hear that terrifying woman in the armor correctly? He took his helmet off? When the fuck did he do that? And who the fuck did he show because it most surely wasn’t you?

Grogu coos up to you from behind your robes— like he’s answering your silent question. Every bone in your body feels like it’s melting away and you’re having a hard time keeping your knees from giving out.

Din took his helmet off and didn’t show you? He didn’t let you see him?

You almost think about running back to the ship but whatever was lurking in the lake just outside the mouth of the cave makes you rethink.

You think you’re going to be sick.

Din and the woman are speaking and you’re trying to listen, like Din told you, but everything sounds muffled and you think your hands might be covering your ears but they’re still at your side. 

“I can visit the planet. I could bring you proof.” Din’s voice is clear in your head now.

Where is he going? Visit what planet? Why does he need to go there?

You tried so hard to listen but so many other thoughts were going through your head that it was hard to keep everything straight. “I’ll bathe in the living waters beneath the mine’s of Mandalore and bring you proof. Then by Creed; the decree of exile will be lifted and I would be redeemed.” 

Exile!? Redeemed?! What the fuck was Mando doing while you were gone?

The sand in this cave is so nice. You haven’t stopped looking at it since the woman Mandalorian said he took his helmet off. If you dare look up, the tears would roll down your cheek. This way they’re hidden in your robes at least. No one can see. 

“Then I will see you again.” Is the last thing the armored woman says!!

The long walk back to the ship is silent. A Mando specialty. Nothing but the sound of the green child babbling from behind your robe and the shifting of the sand beneath your shoes.

You cannot believe this. You thought–stupidly, it’s clear to you now– that if Mando was going to show anyone his face it would have been you. You feel so foolish. As foolish as you felt when you called him your friend after your trip to the market.

You are foolish, it’s obvious.

The ramp to the ship drops down, and you are the first one on. Quickly you're undoing your robes and letting Grogu out of his bag. You hold him in your arms for a while, looking down into his big eyes and at his wrinkly green skin.

You know Din took his helmet off for Grogu. It’s something you're sensing in your heart looking at him now.

If you wore a helmet and had sworn to do whatever Mando had to swear to wear it forever... you'd show Grogu too, for whatever reason.

That still doesn’t make this hurt any less. 

No words. No questions. Nothing.

You keep to yourself for the rest of the day, keeping busy sewing yourself a new nightgown. It was going to be short and cute for Mando but now you’ve decided to make it long. And down to the floor. Not cute. Just for sleeping. And it’ll be black. Hmph.

You sew so angrily that you stab your fingers more than once. You honestly aren’t even sewing, you’re just pulling thread through fabric with no reason or meaning behind it. You haven’t put a single thought into one stitch since you sat down. 

You hate him now. You really do.

When you thought he hadn’t shown his face to anyone it wasn’t a big deal but now…now you hate him.

It’s a tearing feeling right in your stomach. Every time you breathe or think, or even move it hurts. Brings tears to your eyes. 

Mando’s footsteps echo in the hallway towards the weapons room you’re hiding in after Grogu went to bed. You press yourself into the corner and hope he won't notice or isn’t looking for you when he walks in. 

“There you are," He rasps as if nothing is wrong. "Are we playing a hiding game?” He leans against the wall your back is on.

You shake your head side to side and go back to pretending to sew. You don’t look up at him. It’s obvious you’re mad. You haven’t said a single word to him since you got off the ship to go into that Maker forsaken cave.

Only to hear the worst news of your life so far; that he didn’t care about you enough. That you weren’t enough. 

Once you got back on the ship, you hid- just like he had said. A hiding game.

Fucking Mando!

A part of you-- it may be somewhere in your heart- is telling you to just be grateful for the man in the tin can suit who is standing in front of you.

Another part-- maybe inside your brain, as swirly and twirly as it is sometimes- is telling you to be negative. Telling you to be bitter and cold to him.

You’re jealous and feeling sorry for yourself. You know it. You don’t really care right now. Don’t know if you ever will care with how you’re feeling.

Nothing about this feels good. You had explained your feelings to him, told him how you had felt and he never mentioned any of this? Being exiled? Taking off that fucking helmet!?

Does he not remember the conversation before you left for Ossus' forsaken Jedi fucking temple!?

“I don’t feel well. I think I’m going to bed.” You stand up, gather up all your sewing in your arms and walk past him into the hallway.

Mando follows. “You’ve seemed quiet since we got back to the ship. I feared maybe you were upset with me.” Mando speaks at you while you walk into the sleeping quarters. “Are you alright? Can I get you anything? A warm compress? Water? Are you going to be... ill?”

He hesitates to say the word like it make you ill all over him!

You ignore him and instead of crawling into the bed you shared with him the night before, you set all of your sewing on your nightstand and get into your bed. The one you haven’t thought about since Mando carried you back into his bed last night.

“So you are upset with me.” Mando rasps, like he knew it all along and tilts his head to the side, crossing his arms over his chest.

“I’m not upset about anything-- what would I even be upset about?” You bring the blankets up to your chin.

You didn’t even change into your sleepwear! Just crawled right into bed with the clothes you’ve had on all day! Weren’t even trying to seem unwell.

This is the worst.

Now you wish that he had just dropped you off on Cantonica at Canto Bight, or that some man with a face had tried to make you forget about Mando. 

“I assume what was spoken about within the clan.” He rasps softly. “I was going to tell you. I just didn’t know when would be a good time.” His stupid modulator is sounding so apologetic now. 

“I’m not upset. I don’t care. Show your face to whoever you want. Don't show it--- Doesn’t matter to me.” 

Mando sighs softly from under the helmet. 

“I did it so that Grogu would know how much I cared for him. So that he wouldn’t forget me.” Mando tries to help, but his explanation makes things worse.

“It’s fine. I said I don’t care. I get it." Your voice is snappy and mean. "We never talked about the night before you abandoned me with no timeline of when you'd be back."

Mando just watches you talk from behind his helmet, never saying anything-- as always-- and you once again, feel as though you may as well be talking to your reflection alone. It's quiet for a beat before you say anything else.

"We never talk about our feelings ever so you must have none! Unless it’s for the child. Which is fine, I feel the same for him. I just don’t care to speak about this anymore.” You speak so fast trying to get all the words out as a literal planet forms in your throat. Stupid tears burn at your eyes because you do care.

It’s hurting you so badly. 

“Was–Did you–...” You can feel Mando looking into the back of your head like he’s got lasers in his helmet. You turn now to look at him. 

“What?” You snap. “What could you have to say now?” 

“I made Luke and Ahsoka let you stay... because it’s what you desired. I made that happen for you.” Mando’s talking like you’re ungrateful for what he did for you. 

"Thank you. Thank you so much for that, I appreciate everything that I learned there. I am stronger, faster, a better protector of my the child for that reason-- and I have you to thank for it. Yes." It's hard to not sound unappreciative now, when you're on the verge of tears and angry about his lack of love for you!

Mando doesn’t speak, as usual. Just watching you talk and also, probably the tears welling in your eyes. 

You roll over to hide the wet, glassiness of your eyes, "I care for you so much, and you can't tell me the same? You don't feel it?" The heat pools behind your cheeks and down your neck and into your chest. "I thought you did once," you murmur, almost silently.

“You think I don’t care for you?” Mando sounds confused.

That makes you so your blood boil; what is he confused about? What could he possibly not understand? 

“You showed Grogu your face but not me... You obviously didn’t care if I forgot you. Despite what you said last night you didn’t seem to care if I knew how much you cared for me before you left for two years.” You keep your head turned away from him because luckily it doesn’t sound like you’re crying, but you’ve got endless tears rolling down your cheeks. 

“Mando.” His voice sounds reminiscent of a time when you only called him that. 

“Yes. Mando. Because your real name should be saved for your close friends, and the people you show your face to." You hiss. "I didn’t even get to hear it from you, I had to hear it from the woman in the fucking cave! I hate caves. I hate helmets-- I hate them all so much. Every single one.” You look back at him over your shoulder with tear stained cheeks and red eyes.

“You brought me here to watch the child and to touch me. I don’t know if that’s what I want anymore.” You say quickly, the pitch growing higher and higher as you speak.

Mando stands up from the side of your bed and says nothing. He just leaves the room without a word. 

This is it.

It’s actually coming to an end. Your time with him and the child. Officially over.

tag list: @thereaperisabitch @pedrospookie @furiousmushroom @creepycorbeaux

I promise the next chapter is satisfying and doesn't end on a cliffhanger- not really.

I'm still so uncomfortable tagging people in my stories, so like I said, please tell me to fuck off if you want me to stop. My feelings won't be hurt (yes they will), and it's completely fine (I'm a big girl and can handle it).

[jadeschambers]

CHAPTER 2: Trueform!Sukuna x Isekai!gn!reader

(reader has no gender but has f genitals.)

Parings: Ryomen Sukuna

Tags: Slow burn, eventual Smut, god/godess demigod reader, angst!!!, sukuna needs his own warnings, huge!size kink (that man is like 8 ft tall), mentioned cannibalism, non-con? (just beware, reader ❤️ him/ don’t read if it makes u uncomfy), cunnilingus, breast play. Some cursing n crack. original idea to this series on my page.

I, III

“Do you believe in reincarnation?” the question nearly went unheard, almost as if the wind purposely picked up the sound of your voice. “No. I don’t. that matter simply sounds like a child’s fairy tale.” dainsleif responded, leaning against the tree above. his body was restless, however he mentally wanted to take an eon long nap. you pouted, his seriousness killing the mood. noticing the familiar look that is always plastered on your face, dansleif pulled you closer. “I don’t believe in it because i want to live in this life time with you forever, dove.”

reality shook you awake, and in the unfamiliar bed your body jolted up from the heavy blankets. of course, you almost forgot where you had ended up.

“had a nice dream little one?” suddenly emerging from the shadows was the one and only Sukuna, his four arms crossed against his chest. “how long were you in here for…?” you asked, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. “well it is my chambers after all.” his words nearly sending you flying from his bed. “h-huh?! then why am I in here?”

furrowing your brows together only aided the adorable expression on your face, all amusement seen by him. “Im a generous man, no?” tilting his head he observed your sleepy form, hair all messy and dried drool marks adorning your face. “thank you I guess..” trailing off, uraume suddenly appeared beside him, bowing in respect.

“breakfast has been prepared, you may join sukuna in the dinning hall.” they announced, leaving the both of you. “already..?” leaping up from his bed, the marble flooring was cold against your feet. Sukunas estate was beautiful during the day, the rising sun managed to frame every shadow to a perfect degree.

one thing you notes was that despite the time, the halls only rung with simultaneous silence.

sitting across from him, your new, beautiful robes gifted by him rubbed against your skin. the food in front of you looked divine… however— the smell.

Sukuna began to dig in, the fine china abraded by his utensils. “is this.. human?” your eyes widened, a hand covering your nose and mouth to prevent the bile from rising.

he merely chuckled, a wicked grin spreading on his handsome face. “you figured it out quite fast. many just begin eating without question.” his jaw flexed every time the delicate meat entered his mouth. the curse looked like a predator devouring his prey across from you.

this was a trap! was he going to eat you next?! “oh relax, don’t get so defensive it. I am not going to devour you— maybe not yet.” sukuna teased, attempting to galvanize a reaction from you.

clenching your jaw, the table jolted as you stood. “and where do you think you’re going?” he cocked a brow, leaning back onto the chair as he crossed his arms. “to hunt my own breakfast!” you growled, angrily sighing as your hand clenched your conjured pole arm.

the king of curses stood up, curiously following you. as soon as he saw you leaving his court yard, sukuna smirked wickedly to himself. this was much better than any fights or meals he had experienced recently.

oh yes, little dove... he wanted this game to last just a bit longer. but alas, he couldn't allow you escape without teaching the consequences first. “come now, foolish girl..." he muttered, disappearing behind you suddenly. “don't think you can run away that easy.”

with a flash of a red light, sukuna appeared beside you again, grabbing onto your shoulder firmly. “does a little lamb like you really know how to hunt?” he teased, invading your space. his touch felt electrifying, and now all of a sudden he was invading your person bubble.

scoffing in his face, you swiftly slammed the blade of your polearm into the ground, nearly slicing a boulder in half.

“listen— I am beyond grateful that you’ve willingly took me in. but we have to set boundaries. quite literally we just met two days ago no?!” you gritted through your teeth.

having little background knowledge about him only made the tension in the air much more suffocating. “and yes i can hunt! if you’re intimidated by me just say so!” sukuna’s eyes widened at your abrasive tone. by the gods were you feisty. but how long has it been since the curse felt this alive?

“should you consider giving up little lamb; I intend to 'teach' you regardless of whether you choose flight or stand against me..." leaning close enough to brush against you softly, his proximity left chills running down your spine.

pursing your lips together in frustration, the small of your hands held up towards his chest in a flicking motion. with a small movement of your wrist, you pushed him far from where you were once standing.

sukuna’s eyes widened, the memory from yesterday reminiscing in his mind. “personal space…please” you reminded him, biting the inside of your cheek. sukuna's expression shifted from amused disinterest to annoyance.

standing upright, he crossed his arms over his massive torso, revealing the numerous scars dotting his chiseled abdomen. “persistent aren't you?" he grumbled lowly, his voice rumbling ominously throughout the quiet area surrounding them.

for once in his life, sukuna decided to willingly play along with your games. “fine. if you prefer to not eat human then you can hunt your own food.” grumbling under your breathe, your pole arm nearly slashed sukuna’s arm in a petty manner.

“fuckin’ cannibal.” you muttered, following a small trail that lead to a river.

sukuna stood behind you, his voice scaring off the sounds of nature as he babbled incessant stories. He watched curiously as you took off the skirt to your kimono, stepping into the shallow water bank.

conjuring a bow, you carefully aimed, shooting and immediately striking four fish with one arrow. plopping the fish into the woven basket by sukunas feet, you smiled at him in accomplishment. the king of curses nearly had to hold back his laughter.

how naive, is four fish really an achievement to you? “failure is not acceptable here.” sukuna mocked, chuckling lowly at how fast your face dropped.

the walk back through the forest was mostly silent, filled by the beautiful tune of natures call. suddenly from behind, the bushes behind us shuttered, making you turn in caution.

placing a hand on his forearm, both of you eyed the suspicious leaves. in an instant, a scared little bunny hopped out, anxious with its eyes full of a preys blood. sukuna smiled as your harsh grip tightened on his.

you leapt forward faster than you could think; hugging the poor timid creature before Sukuna could land his dirty hands on it “no! not this one! go away sukuna!” you yelped, protecting the poor bunny.

chuckling deeply, sukuna shook his head slowly "pathetic..." he muttered contemptuously as he reached out again. however you smacked his hand away faster than he could think, an adorably frustrated expression painted on your face. “I said not this one. I will kill you if you hunt it!” you huffed, standing up to cradle the little animal in your arms protectively. sukuna rolled his eyes.

so you’ve been flaunting to him that you could kill him in a second— yet you cower to a mere bunny. how miserable. he thought to himself, crossing his arms.

an amused snort escaped sukuna as he trailed close behind, following every move of yours carefully. when you signaled stopping abruptly amidst green foliage, he paused too - observing your postures attentively.

there he stood behind with a mischievous gleam dancing within the dark depths of his red eyes. "what would happen if I do?" he posed cheekily, his handsome face scrunched in a wicked manner. “you'll simply have killed two birds with one stone wouldn't it? or three...four..." grinning wryly at last his statement, he crossed his arms casually, leaning onto a tree trunk idly waiting for retaliation or resistance that probably wasn't coming anytime soon.

rolling your eyes at his immature demeanor, you held out your hand towards his still figure. with a flick of the wrist, black mysterious vines suddenly attached to his huge curse like body, and no matter how much the king of curses struggled he only further lost the wrestle.

“wait here and be patient please?” you smiled innocently at his struggling. walking a few meters away into the line of trees, you let the bunny hop from your arms and freely into the forest. you knew Sukuna and many various predators could smell the poor thing, so you manipulated the air and dissipated the scent of pray lingering in the air

striding back into the lively plain, you spotted sukuna still strapped to the tree. “Im back! and you’re still here.” you teased.

finally released from the iron grasps of your mysterious tendrils, sukuna rubbed his sore wrists ruefully, but couldn't hide the grin spreading across his lips. “you deeply intrigue me little one.” he paused briefly, a soft chuckle escaping his throat. “let us return, I personally cannot fathom what would occur if you were to walk around with an empty stomach.” sukuna teased.

—

knowing that it was your own hands that cooked your meal brought comfort. however sukuna’s incessant breathing sliced through the atmosphere of your once peaceful meal. “you’re such a little pussy sukuna.”

“ha!" choking down a bitter laughter, sukuna narrowed his gaze dangerously while maintaining stoicism.

he crossed his legs beneath him effortlessly, folding into a position opposite to yours. “that is rich coming from someone protecting a mere rabbit earlier." his gesture dismissing the topic to swiftly changed subject. “but truly..." as he glanced towards you, offering reverential glances placed upon the dish you cooked; sukuna’s curiosity peeked through his mockery.

“this cuisine tastes divine regardless preference. who taught these culinary skills anyway?". his eyes gleamed with newfound interest in which he sought your answer patiently.

the question sparked a few sentimental memories to flood through your brain, causing you to chew on your lip.

“many of my old uhm.. friends i guess..” you trailed off, mumbling as you nibbled on the pair of chopsticks. would you ever return to Teyvat..? or was the idea entirely a lost cause.

the silence that draped over the conversation became heavy, veiling the tension between the words uttered moments ago.

sukuna’s head tilted quizzically; contemplating the revelations shared between you two which slowly formed more thoughts. “your kind isn't omnivorous then?" his curiosity clearly won over your indifference momentarily.

you snorted at his question, setting down your chopsticks onto a hashi-oki. “my kind? whats that s’pposed to mean.” crossing your arms you smugly giggle. “you are not fully human, at least from what i can smell.” sukuna acknowledged, tilting his head as he observed you.

growing quiet at his words, you contemplate if gods exist in this world. “what is this world exactly… because you definitely aren’t human. and you seem— strong?” leaning forward, the food on the horigotatsu grew forgotten.

“sorcerers.” he muttered. “of course, the one in front of you just so happens to be the greatest in history.” sukuna smugly announced, his hands displaying his arrogance.

you stared at him in complete doubt, pursing your lips. “right. and I can pull birds from my kimono.” sukuna rolled his eyes at your retort, yet the sound of your giggles began to turn a few cogs in his head.

suddenly he began to scoot closer, his monstrous frame only a few inches from you. “I believe we are the same no?” his eyes bore into yours intently searching for answers. “the same values? intentions?” his words began to brew the intensity between two opposites.

“uhm.. well no, i don’t eat humans, and i think im much more heroic than you.” shrugging, you began to clear your meal off the horigotastu.

however sukuna did not persist with his rambling, seeing as to your dismay he was still unworthy of trust. “you’re much to stubborn. we shall discuss further on this topic soon. get your rest little dove.”

the tatami mat beneath creaked under his weight as uraume suddenly appeared in the room. standing near the door, you glanced at him. “goodnight sukuna..” parting your ways, he watched as his subordinate guided you safely to his chambers.

the names he would call you reminded you of home. dove. it made your heart ache.

oh lawd this chapter was so long 🫡 but i wanted to really get more interactions between reader and sukuna. please let me know if u guys like this serious so far/wnt to be tagged!

tags : @maskedpacific @kbirdieee2540 @ghostlyworld

characters and art not owned by me

[asimplearchivist]

I mean, if you insist…👀

Just spent the last hour or more writing 2.3k of Rook and Varric hurt/comfort post-ritual at the expense of my already precarious sleep schedule.

Can I share it bc it is rife with spoilers? No.

Will I regret the lack of hours tomorrow? Possibly.

Will it likely be subject to massive changes/recycling altogether once the game comes out bc I’m a stickler for framing my works with canon? Probably.

Was it worth it to be able to flesh out my Rook more and to write for my most beloved dwarf best friend once again after so long of having my AU on the back burner? Absolutely.

[lincolndjarin]

Oh Honey. ★ masterlist

Welcome to Honey, West Virginia! [COMPLETED FIC]

pairing : monster!joel miller x afab!mortician!reader

gen. tags : soulmates au, no outbreak au, monster lover, 18+ mdni

series summary : you’ve been given a gift. a fresh start in a brand new place, the sleepy little town of Honey, WV. a distant aunt has passed away and left you a little plot of land and her camper, the stars must be aligning for you because the local mortician is looking for an assistant and you’re desperate for the work experience. your new employer even offers to set you up with her brother-in-law! things are looking up, you’ve got a brand new home, a new town, a hot date, (and thanks to a series of bear attacks that started immediately after your arrival) you have more than enough work to keep you busy!

content warnings : eventual smut, teratophilia, graphic descriptions of violence, explicit descriptions of menstruation, graphic descriptions of the mortuary process, horror, depictions of extreme fear, body horror, graphic depictions of death, eldritch horror. this is a monster fucker fic, proceed accordingly

no use of y/n.

mostly no description of afab!reader given, other than the fact that she is younger than joel, has hair & has a period.

chapter one : down the rabbit hole (11k words)

[ When you were just a child you found a deer in the woods behind your childhood home. ]

Right on the edge of the forest where there was a road you weren’t supposed to go near. You had gone out to find stones to paint when you came across her. ]

chapter two : beware the jabberwock (15k words)

[ You don’t sleep well after your dream.

Just staring up at the ceiling until the sun is starting to shine through the windows. 

Not that you’ve been sleeping well recently to begin with. And Joel suddenly feels less safe, the grip of his arms around you feels more like it’s trapping you rather than protecting you. ]

chapter three : we're all mad here (11k words)

[ “It’s okay, it’s just me.”

Joel, Joel, Joel. 

The only thing that consumes your thoughts. ]

chapter four : painting the roses red (11k words)

[ “Joel…” You give him a wary look as he bares his teeth at you, a low rumble starting in his throat as your instincts kick in. “Joel!” You yell like you would if you were scolding a dog and he freezes in place. ]

chapter five : i'll decide where to go from here (6k words)

[ “C’mere, bunny.” His stubble brushes against the back of your neck, his mouth is warm as you feel a kiss placed against your spine. ]

[forthegothicheroine]

My 12 best fanfics

Multiple people have tagged me to post my 10 best fanfics! I did 12 so that I could easily format a bunch of Penguin Classics covers for them. If you write fic and haven't done this yet, consider yourself tagged!

Darkest Timeline: My infamous Evil Lancelot series which I wrote in a quarantine-induced brain spiral, for which I am still expecting the Arthuriana fandom to excommunicate me. Please read the warnings, this is an emotional Dead Dove Do Not Eat.

Bride of Thorns: Morticia the gothic heroine marries Gomez the brooding hero.

The Most Poetical Topic: Jonathan "Scarecrow" Crane makes a date with a cute bookseller. Original Character Do Not Steal!

The Mel Brooks Cameo in Twin Peaks: Audrey Horne visits an old Jewish gangster. Mel Brooks worked with David Lynch on The Elephant Man, so what if they had continued their partnership?

Sir Wishbone and the Bad Day: A Wishbone episode about Sir Gawain and the Green Knight. Joe getting his first detention is just like having to meet a guy to get your head cut off!

Opera Fantastique: Christine's bad reincarnation memories from the 1989 Phantom of the Opera film are just beginning.

Et in Arcadia Ego: A folk horror episode of The Prisoner. Is Six in the sway of black magic or just hallucinogens and manipulation?

Beware the Beetle: Batman has to read The Beetle by Richard Marsh when someone starts doing Beetle-themed crimes. Written for @bluestockingbaby's wonderful idea!

Gentle Wolves: A fairy tale-style confrontation between Vulpes Inculta, Craig Boone and the Courier. A fan favorite on the Fallout Kink Meme.

The Dream Journal of Lucy Westenra: Lucy has pleasant dreams of a romantic visitor which soon turn much less pleasant. My response to the idea that Lucy was 'asking for it'.

Alice in Camelot: Reading Arthurian legends can feel like reading Alice in Wonderland. Alice herself questions the logic.

Nyarlathotep: A Midrash: Moses's Pharaoh was Nyarlathotep, and Moses's miracles were dark and strange. One way or another, his people will be freed.

[orobaxis]

I loved your Ominis fic so much! It felt like I was there with him 🤭 for prompts I couldn’t decide between “You need to know that I have grown to care for you. Deeply." and "I can't fathom the idea of my life without you in it." It could be angsty or not I don’t mind 😊

“deeply”

ominis gaunt x f!reader (hogwarts legacy)

ominis starts to avoid you.

word count: 2849

warning: some pureblood purity nonsense, f!reader may be muggleborn or a half-blood

beware of spoilers in the comments/tags/reblogs!

“what's wrong with you and ominis?”

you frown, eyes not leaving your plate as you give anne a shrug. you don’t know, really, what’s going on between you and ominis. he just suddenly became so distant to you.

at first, you thought it was just you. you thought you were going a bit paranoid, or that you were overthinking it. because ominis always sits with you, that was his place, that was where people expected to find him in the great hall. wherever y/n was, ominis wasn’t far behind.

it started when he raced anne to sit beside sebastian for lunch. you don’t think they noticed, and anne was just all too happy to sit beside you and chat, but you did. he was supposed to sit beside you, so why didn’t he? you chalked it up to him wanting to talk (argue) with seb, and thought nothing of it.

next was when you arrived to the library shortly after your potions class. you always go to the library after potions to try to work on your homework, you had a dedicated nook and ominis would join you and you would both nag the twins to start their homework (and not copy yours). but one day, he just…wasn’t there. you were beginning to get worried, then, wondering if he wasn’t feeling well, or if you did something to upset him. so that night, you try to catch him in the common room.

he didn’t show up. you four would usually sit by the large windows overlooking the lake, waiting for the giant squid to greet you while pranking other students. but when sebastian told you that “he said he wanted to rest”, your heart formed a little crack in it. and every day he started to avoid you, the crack just grew a little bit bigger.

“i think…he’s avoiding me,” you tell anne. despite being close to ominis, you and anne share a sisterly bond that was forged early in your lives and stronger than the very foundations of magic. there are things you simply cannot talk to seb or ominis about (for one, your…budding feelings towards the latter), and it’s always anne who you turn to in times like these. “he hasn’t talked to me for days now.”

anne scrunches her face in displeasure. “that isn’t like ominis at all, he’s not ignoring me, and certainly not my brother,” she turns to you warily, “do you think it was something you did? something you said?”

“i’m trying to remember, but i’m certain i haven’t said or done anything that could have upset ominis,” the tone of your voice is sadder now, disparaging, “that i know of.”

anne, ever the optimist, reaches for your hand and squeezes it, “well, whatever it is, i’m sure ominis will come around. he can’t stay away forever, you know?”

feeling somewhat comforted, you give her a terse smile. do you know that?

-

it might be best to stay away. ignoring the thumping of his heart and the fluttering in his stomach, ominis flicks his wand, and the howler is engulfed in flames before it can disintegrate. he is thankful for the privacy of the undercroft at this moment, although he knows that any one of his friends can pop in, the message in the howler was not something he wanted them to hear.

son,

we have heard rumours about you associating with some…unsavoury folk—

is that really what they think of her? of y/n? because she wasn’t born from a prominent pureblood family, because she associates herself with muggleborn professor garlick, because she loves all things that grow and not fascinated in the dark arts?

does his family really think less of her because of her birth?

ominis made a hard and rash decision, and it has been going well. however, he’s certain that you are starting to get suspicious by now. you are a smart witch, you know that he’s been avoiding you. but ominis thinks there is no other option. in order to keep you away from his family’s sharp and piercing gaze, it is better to distant himself from you. it is for your own safety. he cannot have them sink their infected claws into the only comfort he has away from home. no matter how hard it is, ominis has to keep away.

which is becoming hard, seeing your history together. having barely separated, you have all the same classes together. herbology, for one, is your favourite class, and you had paired with him to care for a pot of chinese chomping cabbage. this is going to be a lot harder than he thought, seeing as you had rooted yourself deep into his routine, his life, and his heart.

-

feeling emboldened by your conversation with anne, you are hopeful that ominis will finally break his silence in herbology. you are partners, and you have to discuss how to properly care for this rather…biting…flora.

your anxious smile drops a bit when ominis says nothing when you greet him, only standing away from the potting station, seemingly indifferent.

“so…i thought we should start trimming our cabbage and feed it some carrots,” you suggest slowly, trying to gauge any reaction. “and maybe water it before we leave. what do you say, ominis?”

the smile is replaced by a frown when you see him looking away from you, something he hasn’t done since you two started being friends. he is attentive like that, whenever you talk to him, he would turn to your general direction, making sure you know that he was listening to you. now, you aren’t so sure that he’s not let your words pass through one ear and out the other.

ominis only shrugs, “do whatever you think is right,” and turns away from your completely.

disheartened, you turn to the potting station, trying to ignore the tightening of your throat and the sharp sting of tears threatening to fall down your cheeks. you silently tend to your plant for the rest of the class.

-

“why are you ignoring y/n?”

sebastian finds him sulking close to the defense against the dark arts classroom. this is also one of your favourite hauntings, enjoying the tea the biscuits when you have a free period.

ominis sighs, knowing that he cannot really avoid the question forever. he also knows how persistent sebastian can be, and it would be no use to hide it from him. despite this, he tries to play dumb at first, “what makes you say that?”

“well, for one, you haven’t been sitting next to her or talking to her for a couple of days now. and in herbology, you’d think someone made her watch a niffler getting tortured with how sad she looked.” sebastian’s tone is accusatory.

the gaunt boy frowns as he imagines how much his actions hurt you, only giving you one sentence answers whenever you ask questions in class and avoiding you as much as he can. he hates that he’s the reason you were so down in herbology earlier.

“and anne has been pestering me to ask you,” sebastian adds, “which means you better tell me now before she comes here and beats it out of you.”

ominis scoffs, “like she’d eve—”

“ominis, the only reason she hasn’t hexed you is because she’s busy comforting y/n right now. as soon as she’s done, you best believe we’ll both be on the receiving end of a mean stinging hex.”

well, ominis couldn’t argue with that.

“it’s my parents,” he tells sebastian, “they owled me, wrote to me that i shouldn’t be associating with ‘unsavoury folk’ and those who are ‘lesser’. that i am slytherin’s heir and should not be seen with someone who has muggle parentage and friends with muggleborns.”

sebastian blanches at that. “how dare they!”

“you might think that’s that, but it’s also a threat. they are telling me to stop now, or else they will find her.”

“and this…this is why you’re staying away?”

ominis nods, “i don’t want my family to even think of her. to look at her or touch her. i cannot have them taint her.”

he waits as sebastian goes silent, trying to process what he just said. he is not hoping for a solution, nor comfort.

“but…you’re hurting her. and yourself.”

ominis says nothing. he doesn’t need to. what more can he say?

-

you want to believe that you’re getting used to the silence. but you really can’t. it’s so different without ominis’ presence, without his (overly) doting nature, or his commentary whenever seb does anything stupid. while you still wonder what it is you did to make him ice you out, you also start to muster the courage to talk to him alone and ask him about it.

relaying this to anne, you two try to find the right “opportunity” to catch ominis off guard so that you can confront him. he seemingly catches on to it though, now sticking beside sebastian at any cost. sebastian is also a bit subdued, and that is something you should ask about in a while as well.

it’s so strange to find ominis across the table from you in the great hall, face turned away from you like he is deliberately letting you know he doesn’t want to acknowledge your presence. anne has been helpful, sitting beside you and initiating conversation, but it’s not the same.

it’s not the same without him.

so when the owls started arriving and delivering packages, you consider it a welcome surprise to receive one.

“oh, a package!” anne exclaims excitedly, “who is it from?”

you turn over the package, the smile on your face replaced by a frown, “i don’t know. it’s unmarked.”

at that, ominis can feel the hair on the back of his neck standing, and he sits up straighter. “don’t open it.”

you look up to ominis, surprised that he not only was listening to you (and ignoring you on purpose), but that he talked to you. even if it was just to tell you not to open a package.

sebastian purses his lips and nods, “he’s right, y/n. it could be some prank from someone.”

or something related to the dark arts that is meant to curse you, he and ominis think.

ominis has a gnawing feeling of anxiety, wondering if it was his family who sent you this mysterious package. do they really think he wouldn’t know about it? why would they send something potentially dangerous in such a conspicuous way?

“alright,” you acquiesce, now thinking that it couldn’t hurt to be on the safe side. it would be terrible if the package turned out to be a prank, wondering if it would explode when you open it or splash you with something pungent. “i’ll open it outside.”

“i will open it,” ominis states, and it sounds final. you stare at him, contemplating on whether this would be the right time to ask him, if he has decided he’s had enough of ignoring you and you can go back to the way it was. the finality in his words seem to suggest that he does not tryst whatever is in that package. his arms extend across the table to you, “i’ll keep it in the undercroft for now.”

blinking in surprise, you raise your eyebrow, “you want to hide it there?”

he nods tersely, “just to make sure it doesn’t explode on you. after classes we will go to the beach and open it.”

resigned, you hand the package over to him, taking the moment to bask in the feeling of his fingers brushing against your own. as quickly as it happened, ominis’ hands are gone, and he stands up, wand blinking red in front of him. he doesn’t say anything as he leaves for the undercroft.

sebastian says nothing when he hears your sigh of defeat.

-

the four of you find yourselves at the beach after class, eyeing the suspicious package tucked under ominis’ arm.

“i didn’t find any traces of dark arts in the package,” he says, “but we can never be too careful. i will place it on the ground and i need you all to back away as far as you can.”

“will you be safe?” you blurt out, your worry for him trumping the other confusing feelings you have bubbling up your chest, “if this is some kind of…dark arts artifact…i think it would be best if we get a teacher involved.”

ominis thought about that, of course. “if it’s dark arts, then i might be able to find a way to control it. and then you can go and fetch professor hecat.”

still wary, you voice your assent, grabbing anne’s hand for support.

you watch ominis take a deep breath, sebastian standing not too far from him, ready to catch him if anything happens as well as to guard you and anne.

ominis waves his hand in a flourish, and you all held your breaths as the packaging tears open to find…

a book.

thick, and well-used, it looks like…an ordinary textbook.

you shuffle towards ominis curiously, ignoring sebastian’s calls, and peeked to see what it is.

“oh, it’s a book,” you comment. you get close enough to read the title, even as ominis extends his arm to stop you from getting any closer. “it’s the herbology book i’ve been looking for!”

“what book?” ominis asks, still distrustful.

“i asked deek the house elf to help me find a book on herbology that professor garlick mentioned. he said he knew where that missing book may have been hidden. he must have sent it to me when he found it.”

you cautiously move away from ominis hold, reaching for the book. “see? it’s harmless. deek probably just didn’t put his name on it.”

“so, it’s not evil?” sebastian asks.

you raise the book and wave it, smiling, “nope!”

“merlin’s beard! that gave me quite the fright,” anne exclaims, hands on her chest, “this was all just a big misunderstanding!”

you smile, before subtly turning your gaze to ominis. he is quiet, once again icing you out. he nods stiffly before raising his wand, proceeding to walk away.

“ominis, wait!” you call out.

you see him hesitate, stopping his tracks for a moment. he clears his throat, “i’m glad you’re safe.”

-

he finds out by the large windows in the common room, one of your favourite spots.

you were learning your forehead against the window, listening to the sound of water behind the thick glass.

“the giant squid isn’t here,” ominis remarks, “i couldn’t hear it.”

he cannot see the sad smile on your face. “thank you for letting me know, i think it’s better knowing that instead of waiting for nothing.”

oh.

he doesn’t like the sound of your voice when it’s sad.

before he can process it, he is standing in front of you, hands clenched at his sides. “i’m sorry y/n. i know i hurt you…but…”

your voice is small and muffled against the window, “i don’t know what i did for you to push me away like this.”

“my family has threatened to hurt you if i don’t stay away,” he blurts out, and you sit up in surprise.

“what?” you are shocked, to say the least.

“that’s why i was so worried about the package. i was afraid that they had sent you a cursed object because you…because you associate yourself with me.

but y/n, you need to know that i have grown to care for you. deeply,” ominis doesn’t want to admit how much he’s shaking, how it is obvious from the way he sounds that his shaky voice is about to crack and his throat tight as he struggles to keep his emotions at bay, “you are the last thing i want my family to touch. i couldn’t let them hurt you. not you.”

you exhale, tears now flowing down your cheeks. you stand in front of him and grasp his hands, which are cold, clammy, and shaking.

“oh ominis,” you squeeze his hands, slowly making your way closer until your forehead rests against his. feelings that you thought are yours to keep, buried deep and untouched in your heart, are starting to rise. “i cannot fathom the idea of my life without you in it. i don’t care what your family thinks. i will be fine as long as i’m with you. with seb and anne. with our family.”

ominis starts to break, exhaling as he feels your skin touch his, your smell invading his senses and your warmth soothing his tormented soul. “i cannot lose you, y/n. not to them.”

smiling through your tears, you raise your arms to pull him into a hug. “you won’t lose me, ominis. i promise you.”

there may be a lot of work to be done, more talks to be had, with regards to your feelings and his, on how to navigate these feelings and desires while also making sure that his family never touches you, but for now, ominis basks in your presence and in the love you have for him. and for now, that is enough.

-

aaaahhh sped write this minutes before a class presentation. i hope it’s fine. thank you for your patience with my writing styles/formatting as i try to find the best style/layout to write. thank you for the overwhelming love!!!

[meo-on-prairie]

No Body, No Crime

Satosugu x reader

Prompt: You know in your soul that he did it, but there are no ways for you to prove a feeling. But you can play this game he started, and you won’t give up until the day he dies.

Words count: 6.3k

Tags: Satosugu x reader established, Fluff, angst, murder, Slightly suggestive, crime. TW: death, murder, dismemberment, disturbing actions, infidelity, manipulation, and revenge mdni.

Rambling: I was on the verge of tears when I finished this fic, idek if I like it anymore lmao, so if you don't like it, idk what to tell you lmao. I honestly don’t know what to tag this fic as. Just like beware that it’s inspired by: “no body, no crime” by Taylor Swift (of course), The Glory K-drama, and the countless murder podcast I listen to while driving. I hope yall enjoy.

/////////

Odd. Shoko is late, 2 hours late to be exact. She’s not exactly the most punctual person you know but she has never been this late. Especially not on the monthly dinner with you, Suguru, and Satoru. After graduating college together, the 4 of you have made a point to have dinner together at least once a month.

This monthly dinner is something none of you would ever miss. All of you have been making it work for years, through the career changes, through your shitty ex-relationship, through the time when you were confused about how you feel toward Satoru and Suguru. Even after Shoko decided to get married to this Neonatologist named Andrew she met at the hospital she works at, the 4 of you still keep up the routine. 

The three of you took turns calling her the past 2 hours and nothing. Straight to voicemail. Not even a text saying she can’t make it today and to reschedule. Odd. you can’t get rid of this nauseating feeling in your stomach.

“Let’s go” you stand up abruptly and begin to walk out of the restaurant toward the parking lot.

“Where are we going?” Satoru asked. Both him and Suguru hurried after you. Satoru unlocked the car, and Suguru opened the door for you to get in. Ever since you joined the relationship, they made a point to never let you drive or touch the car door, ‘you’re our treasure, you will be treated like one’. 

“I want to drop by Shoko’s place, maybe she’s got tired from her night shift and overslept or something, I don't know, I just want to make sure nothing is wrong.” You’re panicking, they can see that. During college, if Satoru and Suguru were attached by the hips, you and Shoko were never one without the other. You can’t simply just shake off this anxiety you feel when it comes to your best friend. 

They nodded and got into the front seats. They don’t question you. They know how much Shoko means to you, not to mention she’s their friend too. Satoru drives the three of you to Shoko’s place while Suguru tries to calm your anxiety. 

“It’s okay, Sweet. You’re probably right about her being deep asleep due to her night shift. She seems pretty stressed and tired lately from her text.” Suguru reasoned.

Satoru gives a slight nod and adds, “Her phone could be dead, and she missed the alarm that would wake her up for our dinner”.

“Yeah… I hope you’re right.” You feel slightly better from the reasonable and likely scenarios they proposed. Still, it couldn't get rid of this sinking feeling you feel in your stomach.. 

After a short drive, you three reach Shoko’s house. You notice that her husband's truck is in front of the driveway, the tires are brand new, it looks like he just got them replaced today. Odd. Very rarely do people replace all their tires at once. You chalk it up to just coincidence. You walk toward her door and ring the doorbell, Andrew answers the door. 

“Hey man, is Shoko home? She was supposed to meet us for dinner around 2 hours ago.” Satoru greeted

“No. She’s not home. I don't know where she is.” Andrew answered abruptly. 

“Well, did something happen? Did some emergency come up with her family? She’s your wife, out of everyone she would at least tell you where she is.” Suguru pressed him for more information. It doesn’t make sense for him to not know where his wife is at this hour.

“I told you! I don’t know where she is! Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a night shift to get ready for.” With that, Andrew slammed the door to your faces. 

Odd. He sounded agitated, and anxious. Like he’s trying to hide something… deny something. Your whole body is shaken in fear with the thoughts of the worst. Nothing makes sense. Shoko would never just vanish without telling anyone. She literally messaged the group chat yesterday saying she’ll see you three at dinner and she has something to tell you all. Nothing makes sense. 

Satoru noticed how pale your face had gone and immediately pulled you in for a hug, “It’s going to be okay, Love. She’s going to be okay. We’ll wait till tomorrow and see if she’ll contact us. Then we’ll figure out what to do from there okay?” he said in a hush tone. 

“Everything is going to be okay, Sweet. We’ll figure it out together.” Suguru gives your temple a long kiss as he runs his hand up and down your back in a soothing motion.

The three of you drove home in silence. You didn’t dare to leave your phone for one second, you went to sleep with your phone unmuted. Suguru and Satoru make sure at least one of them is by your side at all times. They worry about Shoko too, but they know you need them to be there and keep you grounded. They make sure to hold you extra close that night, you fall asleep in their comforting arms, hoping for the best, but the sinking feeling makes you expect the worst. 

/////////

The worst did come. At 6AM, 2 days since you last heard from Shoko, you were woken up by the loud banging on your door. 

You groggily lift up the two arms that’s trapping you in bed, then reposition their arm so your boyfriends can cuddle each other instead, you gently close the bedroom door behind you. You walk toward the front door, silently cursing whoever knocked on your door at this crack of dawn hour. When you opened the door, your heart dropped to your stomach. 

“Good morning. We recently got a missing person report on Miss Shoko from her husband. Is it okay if we come in to ask you a few questions that could be helpful toward our investigation?” One of the two police officers standing outside your door politely requested. 

“Yes…” you answer barely above a whisper, open the door wider for the officers to come in, you call out for Satoru and Suguru for them to wake up and come down to the living room. You lead the officers toward the living room and invite them to sit while you get them water and wait for your boyfriends to come down. 

You don't remember much after that. It felt as if time had stopped and the world was crumbling apart. Satoru and Suguru answer the majority of the question, you seem to only be able to answer in ‘yes’ and ‘no’ when the officers specifically address you. You were on autopilot. Your best friend, missing without a trace. Not a single hint on whether she’s dead or alive. 

You closed the door after the officers. The moment you hear the ‘click’ of the lock, your legs give out and tears begin to fall from your eyes. You sob uncontrollably, gasping for air. Your shoulders shake violently. This can’t be real. No. you refuse to believe this is reality. Shoko, the person you just talked to on the phone 2 days ago, vanished completely leaving no trace behind. 

Satoru and Suguru immediately rush to your side, they wrap their arms around you and hold you tight. They place soft kisses all over you and rub your back in a soothing motion. 

“I promise you, Sweet. I’ll make sure to find her for us, okay?” Suguru whispered. Never in a million years did Suguru think he would ever have to find his own missing friend as a detective. 

You, Satoru, and Suguru sat there, right in front of the door for hours. Just sitting in each other's embrace and comfort as you three mourn your friend, who you do not know is dead or alive. 

/////////

After crying to the point your body can no longer produce anymore tears. You get started on breakfast. Well, not you, you’re too out of it for anything, Suguru is the one cooking, you tried to set up the table but Satoru just guide you to the table and told you to not worry about it. 

With nothing to do, you decide to scroll through old messages between you and Shoko. Most of them are about how useless her husband is.

“He can’t even wash the dishes that he used! He ate from them, and then just left them in the sink!”

“This fucker think the laundry magically fold itself! Oh god I want to kill him...” this one makes you giggle a little.

“He said he’s going to work but the nurse just called me cuz they couldn’t reach him and there’s a car accident with a baby in it, where the fuck is he?”

“I just found a big purchase for an expensive bracelet, a month ago in our joint account, he said he thought I bought it. lol maybe he’s cheating on me.” This one caught your attention. It was from 3 weeks ago, you thought Shoko was just joking, you didn’t think too much of it since Shoko said it so casually, unlike the other times she vented about her husband. 

No. No. No. No. It can’t be. But the brand new tires, 4 of them, his attitude and response, this message that Shoko sent to you. God, you feel like throwing up. 

“He did it…” you breathe out

“What was that, Love?” 

“He did it! Andrew killed her! He killed Shoko!” you scream out, throwing your phone across the table so they can see the text message.

“I know he did it! All 4 of his tires are brand new and his attitude when we ask where she was and- and this text from Shoko, he killed her!” Your speech becomes frantic as you explain your reasoning. You rest your head on your hands, trying to just process it all.

Satoru’s eyes widen as they read Shoko’s text. He did it. Satoru feels his stomach sinking as he connects the dots. Everything is as you say, it all points to Shoko’s husband as the culprit. Andrew killed Shoko.

“But we have no proof, until we can find evidence or Shoko’s body, he is innocent” Suguru pointed out. Coming around to the table with the french toasts he was making for breakfast. He placed 2 on your plate. You push your plate away, not feeling like eating with everything you have to take in. Suguru grabs your hand and places a kiss on your finger to make you look at him.

“Sweet, you need to eat, at least half, you’ll only feel worse if you don’t eat. We’ll think about this some more after breakfast okay?” Suguru tries to reason with you. He understands how distress you're feeling right now. He looks over at Satoru, his boyfriend's grip on your phone is making his hand turn white.

Suguru walks over to Satoru, he wraps his arm around Satoru, hugging him tightly from behind to snap him out of it, he then takes your phone away from Satoru’s hand. “You too, ‘Toru, let’s eat first, we’ll figure out what to do after, okay?”

If you and Satoru didn’t know Suguru like part of your soul, you would mistake his calmness for indifference. But that couldn’t be farther from the truth, Suguru is like the calm before the storm, you won’t notice his anger until after it’s all said and done. 

You three eat in silence. Suguru is an amazing cook, the french toasts are far from being mediocre. Yet, none of you seem to find the appetite to eat with all the information you need to process. 

After breakfast, you tell the boys you’ll clean up and wash the dishes since they cook and set up. Though they agree to not argue with you about it, they end up helping you with washing the dishes anyway. 

“What do you want to do, Sweet?” Suguru decided to be the one to talk about the issues that have been weighing yours and their minds. 

“I’m not sure, Suguru. There is nothing I can do but hope that they'll be able to find some evidence, or at least her whereabouts.” you said softly, defeatedly. There is truly nothing you can do in this situation. 

“Alright then, I’ll ask my boss to put me on the case. Just like I promised you.” Suguru smiled at you. 

You feel a pair of arms snake around your torso. Satoru gave Suguru a peck on the lips then rested his head on your shoulder, “We’ll find her, Love. We’ll use whatever means we have and find her.”

You can’t help but smile at their words. Sometimes you ask yourself how you are so lucky to find 2 of your soulmates. You’re so incredibly lucky to be able to love and be loved by them. They make the fickleness of life much easier to navigate. Despite your storm of emotions due to Shoko’s disappearance, you find yourself still able to let go and feel grounded around them. They’re your rocks. You trust their words. You trust them.

/////////

Everything is easier said than done. It has been 6 months since Shoko’s disappearance. Suguru did become head detective of the case just like he promised, but every lead he got resulted in a deadend. At this point the case is considered cold, but Suguru refuses to let it go and continues to investigate by himself. Satoru used his company’s along with his own influence to get the case into headlines in the media, in hope that someone would be able to give Suguru more intel to work with. Satoru even hired someone to spy on Andrew and report back to him once a week. 

But with all the walls you've been facing, you’re starting to gaslight yourself into thinking that Andrew is actually innocent, and your intuition is just plain wrong. That is, until the spy on Andrew sent Satoru the weekly report while the three of you were cuddling on the couch watching Barbie. 

When Satoru’s phone rings, you don't bother pausing the movie, thinking it’s just gonna be mundane like the other reports the past 6 months. Satoru got up to grab his phone along with some water from the kitchen. His knuckles turn white when he sees what the spy sent him. 

“Suguru, Love, you guys need to see this.” Satoru calls out to you two with gritted teeth. 

You pause the movie and quickly go to the kitchen, Suguru following you.

“What’s wrong?” Suguru before you could. 

“The rat bastard actually brought home his mistress.” Satoru hands you the phone, he’s fuming now, his other hand balled up tightly. Suguru immediately notices and takes Satoru’s hand, holding onto it so Satoru won’t dig his nails into his palm and hurt himself.

You look at the pictures on Satoru’s phone. Andrew holding hands with the mistress. Them carrying boxes from his truck. Her wearing Shoko’s favorite designer dress, a silver bracelet on her left hand. They were going out for dinner. Bastards. 

You can feel your gut burn, your heart aching, and tears of anger threaten to spill from your eyes. Suguru’s face is grim, his hand squeezing Satoru just as hard as Satoru squeezing his. All the 3 of you can see is red. Boiling pit of lava in your stomachs. This nuclear waste of a human, not only killed your best friend, but brought his mistress into the house that your best friend bought, let his mistress wear your best friend’s favorite dress, and slept with his mistress in your best friend’s bed.

“I’m going to kill him.” Satoru said with conviction. 

“No.” Your tone is scarily calm, “simply killing him won’t be enough.” 

Suguru grabs your hand without letting go of Satoru’s hand, brings it to his lips and places a gentle kiss. “What are you thinking, Sweet? We’re ready to be your executioner.”

Satoru nodded in agreement. The red in their eyes can’t be missed. They’re just as furious as you are.

Looking into their resolute gazes, you pulled both Satoru and Suguru into an embrace. They return your feelings by wrapping their arms around you. You always know this, but now more than ever, you truly believe that even if the entire world were to condemn you, these two would burn the world down for you; and so would you for them.

You all know in your souls that he did it, but there are no ways for you to prove a feeling. But you can play this game he started, and you won’t give up until the day he dies. Together with your executioners, You will make the two rats pay for their action.

/////////

Good thing your boyfriend, Gojo Satoru, is filthy rich. The private spy he hired gives you a lot of information about the mistress. Her name is Maruka, she’s 10 years younger than Andrew, clearly a sugar-baby. She used to work as a cosmetologist but quitted around 3 months ago. From the words of the people that used to be in her life, her biggest love is money. They can’t fault her for it though, she was one of those orphan kids that was passed around in the foster system, she grew up with her whole life stuffed inside a single garbage bag.

You pitied her life for a bit. Thinking maybe she’s just an innocent bystander that also got rope into Andrew’s scheme. Unfortunately, giving people the benefit of the doubt hasn't been working out for you lately. 

You first interact with her at the luxury spa she often frequent after moving in with Andrew. You have the spy let you know when she’s going to the spa so you can join and strike up a friendship with her. When you spot her entering the spa’s sauna, you quickly prepare yourself while reciting the script you have in your head. 

You enter the sauna, sit directly in front of Maruka. You wait for a few minutes before striking up a conversation. 

“Hi, I’m Ina, do you go to his spa often? I haven’t seen you around before.” You lied, a fake name in case she recognizes your real one. 

“I’m Maruka, and yeah, I’m pretty new to this spa. It's been getting pretty serious between me and my boyfriend recently, I even moved in with him so I want to take care of myself for him.” she giggles. 

“Aww, that’s cute. How did you meet?” Your inquiries. 

“Oh we met at a bar, he bought me a drink and we started talking and we just hit it off, he was so charming.”

“You must be very happy then.” you give her a slight smile, “the way you talk about him, it seem like your relationship is full of sunshine and flower”

“You would think so, but unfortunately he had a wife, so we have to date in secret. But he promised me that he would divorce her for me” she laughs. That pisses you off  but you hold down your anger. 

“You said you moved in recently, did he finally divorce his wife recently?”

“Oh. My. God. That’s the best part. She disappeared! 6 months ago! She might be dead for all we know so he gets to keep the fancy house. It’s as if we’re destined to be and god was helping us out!” you squeal in excitement. 

If Suguru and Satoru were here, they would nominate you for the Oscar for how well you’re able to hold back your anger and continue to be friendly with this piece of work. This shameless woman considers someone’s misfortune as her blessing. Disgusting. 

“Wow, that’s impressively lucky, maybe you are being watched over by god.” you said in feint amazement. “We should grab lunch together, you’re fun to talk to, it'll be on me. And I’ll bring you to a nice place where we can test your blessing”

She giggled in happiness, “Sure!”.

You know she would agree as soon as you invite her, this is a luxury spa after all, only those with money and membership can enter. She won’t let go of an opportunity to form connections with someone who is wealthy enough to be in this spa.

/////////

Just as you proposed, you bring her to the most expensive restaurant in town, you have to show your wealth (by using Satoru’s card) so she would want to stick to you even closer. Afterward you bring her to Toji’s horse racing ring.

Toji used to be Shoko’s and Suguru’s smoke and drink buddy in college. He wasn’t necessarily close to your group, but you consider each other friends. So when you come asking him for a favor to avenge Shoko, along with the money to reimburse him. He told you to keep the money and to use his horse racing ring however you please. 

“Where are we?” Maruka asked in confusion. 

“A horse racing ring, owned by my friend, you should place some bet to test out your blessing.” you giggle.

“If you lose, the ring will only take half of what you bet. But if you win, you’ll win twice the amount you bet, and the ring will only take 10% of what you win. It’s a win-win scenario for everyone. People who play will gain more than they lose, and the ring gains a small revenue to keep it going.” You entice her further.

“Oh, I have never placed a bet before…” She hesitated a little, but clearly still interested.

“Here,” you hand her a slip of paper “Just write down your name, the amount you're betting, and the number on the horse you think will win, then put it in that box at the front.”

She takes the slip, she looks at it, contemplating for a moment. She then put down her name, $50, and horse number 3. She places it into the box at the front and you nod at the worker standing next to it, giving him the signal. 

“Now what?” she ask nervously

“Now we watch!”

You two sit down in one of the seats in the VIP area. You glance at her, she’s anxious, first time gamblers always feel anxious at their first bet, but this adrenaline is what keeps them hooked. You watch as the horses race each other. Number 3 won. You watch as Maruka jumps up in joy and you smile at her. 

“Would you look at that! You truly are blessed!” You feint excitement, hyping her up even more. This is the adrenaline you want her to feel, the high you want her to feel.

“Oh my gosh oh my gosh!! Ina!! I won!!” she said excitedly 

“Yes you did! You're now $90 richer.” you smile, handing her another slip of paper “Want to go again?”

She took the paper from your hand immediately without hesitation this time. She excitedly wrote down her next bet again, $200 this time. You can’t help the grin being formed on your face. You got her hook, line, and sinker.

/////////

Good thing that your other boyfriend, Getou Suguru, is a famous detective. He knows the in and out of the law well, knows what evidence is crucial and what is useless. He’s the person that composes files on Maruka and Andrew that would help with your plan. In fact, Suguru is in his office filing out the new updates and pictures Satoru’s spy sent him. 

You walk into his office to see him sitting at his desk with papers and pictures all over the table. You slide your hands on his shoulders and give him a small massage, you kiss his temple then rest your head on his shoulder. 

“I love you.” you whisper softly

“I love you too” Suguru replies, turning his head slightly to give you a quick kiss on your lips. 

You look at the pictures scattered on the table. The spy has been documenting Mamuka and Andrew’s day. Andrew’s day tends to be pretty boring now that he got what he wanted, he just went to work, went home, took Maruka out for dinner, nothing special. Maruka on the other hand, with no work to occupy and her new addiction to gambling on horse races, has been blowing through her money like water. 

You made sure that the workers at Toji’s ring would let her win frequently at first, building her confidence in her luck. Then, you make sure she’ll start to lose. Of course, she will win when the worker notices she’s getting frustrated and about to give up. To give her that high. To keep her hook. 

From what Shoko’s work friend, a nurse, at Andrew’s hospital has been telling you, he has been more and more agitated lately. Looks like Maruka’s spending habits are slowly affecting their relationship. You made sure to decline every single one of her invites to dinner with her and Andrew. You can’t risk them finding out you and Shoko’s best friend, and you as Ina are the same person.

“How is everything going on your side?” Suguru ask softly

“Oh, you know, just occasional lunch and dinner with the bitch, keep the ‘friendship’ going. The way she talks pisses me off though, she talks like a child. Sitting with her makes me miss Shoko even more. That should be Shoko’s place at the table with me, not her.” you complain with a sign, making Suguru chuckle. 

“I miss her too, Sweet” He reached his hand up to pat your head, “What about Satoru? How’s his task going?”

“Magnificent actually, this whole life insurance company plan actually brings in money for the company, so it’s like killing two birds with one stone.” Satoru chimes in from behind you two, he leans down to give both you and Suguru a soft kiss. 

“Seems like everything is going smoothly as planned then.” Suguru stands up from his chair to go to his vinyl shelf, he picks one and puts it on his new record player that you got him last Christmas. Lovers by Taylor swift come on and he reaches his hand out to both you and Satoru. 

“How about a small celebratory dance? We can go for a celebratory dinner tonight” Suguru suggested. 

You giggle and walk over to take his hand and so did Satoru. You spend the next few minutes twirling between them and watching them dance with each other. You’re genuinely happy, the happiest you have felt since Shoko’s disappearance. Revenge tastes oh so sweet, but it tastes addictingly sweet with your lovers around.

/////////

“Ugh, my boyfriend refused to give me an allowance today. Something about that he needed to save up for my ring. He’s bullshitting, I know it.” Maruka complained to you during your lunch with her. “I need money so I can win, I need to win so I can pay back my loan, this is so annoying!”

“That does sound annoying. I hate seeing you so upset like this. Is there any way I can help?” you asked in a concerned tone.

“I don’t know, Ina. I feel like the only way to solve any of my problems lately is money.” Maruka sighs. You smirk, pulling out a wad of cash from your purse.

“Here, $2000, for you.”  You hand the stack of money to her. Smiling slightly.

“Wha- why? Thank you but…” Maruka start

“Oh don’t mention it, I recently invested in this new Insurance company owned by Gojo Corp. Their life insurance policy is pretty interesting. You can file for policies under someone else's name as long as you have their paperwork such as birth certificate, citizenship, social security number, things like that” You lied with the nonchalant attitude

“I recently filed one under my boyfriend’s name after finding out he was cheating on me and planning on buying a one way ticket to disappear to Russa.” You shrug. “Good thing the insurance company reimburse you double the amount you invest for disappearance cases, something about the owner having a friend that disappeared without a trace.” 

You know it sounds too much like a lie. You know this lie sounds too good to be true. But you don’t need Maruka to believe you right now. You just need her to take the bait. After all, she ran out of money, in debt, with a gambling addiction. It shouldn’t take long for her to crawl to the insurance company from the prospect of easy money. 

“Huh, interesting. Anyway, thank you.” She take the wad of cash

“No problem, just a small gift.” you reply. You can already see the cogwheel in her head spinning.

You parted ways with Maruka after eating and returned home. You send a text to your boyfriends before submerging yourself in your hot tub, “bait placed”. You enjoy the warmth of the hot tub and the water massage from it. You reminisce about your times with Shoko. 

She would often tease you for how dense you were. “Everyone and their mother could tell that Satoru and Suguru have a thing for you, everyone but you apparently”.

Everytime you’re sad about another failed relationship, she would drag you out to go shopping or to the bar with her. Then you two would go to 3 different fast-food places, order an ungodly amount of food, and eat away your pain. 

When you told her, you think you might like Satoru and Suguru more than friends, she said “fucking finally. go tell them that, I can’t handle those two being sad little puppies every time you get into a relationship with someone else anymore.”

You were maid-of-honor at her wedding. You can still remember how she looked in her wedding dress so clearly. You two went to pick it out together. You held her hand before she walk down the aisle, “anytime during the wedding, if you don’t wanna the do this anymore, I have the car readied”

She just laughed and said, “it’s just a marriage, I can handle myself, I don’t need you to worry about me.”

You should’ve grabbed her hand and dragged her to the car. That’s your biggest regret. 

Your phone rings and snaps you out of your memory lane. A message from Satoru that said “she took the bait”. You smile at the text and step out of the hot tub. You’re thinking about making Satoru’s favorite dessert and Suguru's favorite food for dinner. Your boys have been working so hard for you. You should reward your favorite executioners tonight. 

/////////

Good thing Satoru’s dad made him get a boating license during the summer of his 15. It’s a reason you three get to enjoy the weekend on a private yacht, in the middle of the ocean. You're currently enjoying a glass of champagne with some chocolate covered strawberry, sun-bathing in the lounge chair as your boys race each other in the water. 

It's been a week since Maruka last contacted you to hangout. And according to Shoko’s nurse friend, it's been 3 days since Andrew came in for work. How interesting. Maybe you should give her a call. 

You pick up our phone and click on Maruka’s contact, it rings 3 times before she pick up. 

“Ina! Hi! What are you calling for?” She sounds panicky. She sounds like a kid doing something they shouldn’t be doing. 

“Hey, I just wanna call to check up on you, haven't heard from you in a minute. What cha up to?” 

“Oh nothing, just cooking… for my boyfriend! Yeah.”

“Oooh, what are you making?” you ask casually

“Just a beef stew, nothing special, just plain ol’ beef stew” Maruka answered rapidly, her attitude reminding you of Andrew’s attitude on the day of Shoko’s disappearance. 

“Well, I’m just checking in, I would invite you out shopping with me but I’m on vacation right now. I’ll let you know when I’m back.” 

With that, you and Maruka say bye to each other. You get up from your relaxed position and walk over to the railing on the yacht to call out to your boyfriends, who are trying to drown each other in their water splashing war.

“My loves,” You shout out to them, mischief in your voice. They stop what they were doing to look at you, enjoying the view quite a bit with the minimal amount of fabric you have on you, “it’s time for the anonymous tip and the wellness check don’t you think?”

A smirk grew on both of their faces as they swim back to the yacht to make some important phone calls. You lean on the railing to enjoy the sight of you boys. Their muscles flex in the most delicious way as they make their way through the water. 

Your eyes didn’t leave their body as they climbed back up to the yacht. You're still staring as they both grab their phone to make some phone calls. You can’t help it, the way their skin glistens in the sun due to that water. The fact that they’re half naked right now with the short they’re wearing clinging onto their skin, giving you the sight of their defined thighs. Ah… it’s not as if you have never seen them in nothing but their birthday suit before, but still… your boys are just too attractive for their own good. 

“If you stare any harder, you’ll burn a hole through us.” Satoru tease, you were too busy staring to notice he’s already finished with his phone call.

“I blame you two.” I joke, leaning into his body as he wraps his hand around you. Your smile gets wider when you feel another body pushing you closer to Satoru’s from behind. 

“Oh? Please, do tell us how it’s our fault…” Suguru whispers into your ears, he nibbles on your ears a little before looking up to kiss Satoru.

Oh… you already know you’re gonna be in heaven for the next few hours. It’s a good day today. 

/////////

Sunlight peeked through the blind of your shared room, waking you up. You look over to see Satoru and Suguru cuddling, you can’t pinpoint where one begins and where the other ends. You grab your phone to check the time, it’s 10am too early for lunch but too late for breakfast. You three just got back from your vacation in the middle of the ocean so you’re taking it slow before going back to work. 

You get out of bed to go brush your teeth and get started on making brunch for yourself and your boys. You have a feeling it’s going to be a good day today. Eggs and bacon for brunch sound oddly enticing right now. 

You take out the bacon from the fridge and place them slice by slice on a metal tray. You put them in the oven and get started on frying the eggs. Satoru likes his egg scramble, while Suguru likes sunny side up.

“Good morning” two voices greet you, not quite in sync because they’re not fully awake yet. 

“Good morning, My Loves” you greet them back, “you could’ve slept in some more.”

“Nah, you weren’t in bed with us.” Suguru replies, he walks into the kitchen to help you cook. Satoru decides to go to the Living room to turn on the TV to a news channel before going to set up the table. 

The TV in the living room drones on about the weather, politics, and current events as you guys eat. You three discuss how you are gonna spend the rest of your day as you finish up your brunch.

“Breaking news: Woman murders her boyfriend with the intention of cashing in on his life insurance policy to support her addiction.” The new anchor announces as the three of you wash the dishes and clean up the kitchen table.

“This morning, the police conducted a wellness check on Mr. Andrew, the husband of Ms. Shoko, who vanished without a trace a year ago. This check was prompted by an anonymous tip reporting his absence from work for three consecutive days, during which no one at his workplace could reach him. However, upon their arrival, law enforcement discovered only Ms. Maruka, Andrew's current girlfriend, present at the residence. Subsequent investigation of the home led to the unsettling discovery of fragments representing approximately 20% of Mr. Andrew's body, alongside three pots of meat stew. Analysis of the DNA extracted from the bones within the stew suggested the disturbing possibility that Mr. Andrew may have been used as an ingredient in this unsettling concoction.” The news anchor further elaborated on the case.

“Gross.” The three of you cringe at gruesome action.

“What was her plan with those stews? She isn’t thinking of eating it right?” Satoru commented, grimacing at the thought.

“Who knows, maybe she plans on feeding it to the stray dogs.” Suguru entertains Satoru’s thoughts. 

“Ew. Even dogs wouldn’t want to eat that human waste.” you laugh, joining their antic.

“Based on an alternative anonymous tip, it appears that Ms. Maruka might be struggling with a gambling addiction and substantial debt. Additionally, she recently acquired a substantial life insurance policy in Mr. Andrew's name just one week ago. At present, all the available evidence strongly indicates that Ms. Maruka is the primary and sole individual under suspicion in connection with Mr. Andrew's demise.” The law enforcement officer being interviewed said with conviction.

You can help the wide grind forming on your lips as you wipe the dishes dry, “I can’t wait to tell Shoko about this.”

“I can already hear how much she's gonna enjoy this.” Sugar commented, chuckling at the thought, handing you another plate he just cleaned.

“We’ll tell her about this together. All three of us” Satoru said as he leaned down to place a kiss on your shoulder. 

Yeah, the four of you will have the dinner you missed again. You, Satoru, and Suguru will tell Shoko all the mischief she missed. It won’t be now, or anytime soon. But you’ll tell her all about it, all three of you.

[qvrcll]

suggestive + fluff

swimming with snow would entail quite a number of things:

he’s a touchy-feely sort of person. very intelligent when manoeuvring up and around you, allowing him just enough space to invade yours. he’s sneaky about it too - a palm resting against your belly (oddly warm and soft in its receive when it rubs affectionately against you), fingers that tickle at your sides, arms that tuck against you like vices rather than just tendons. when you smile at it, bring it up, tell him to quit it, he’s only likely to be more encouraged.

the first to offer you a towel to wrap yourself up when you get the chance. he’ll be all nonchalant about it too, a swipe of a glance and his hand extended bearing the soft material, letting out a little “here you go,” when really, he’s rebounding against every move in his head like chess. wondering whether you think he’s a fool, whether the towel would catch fire and burn, whether you would even appreciate the sentiment. but as soon as you’re curving into that smile you always give him, his worries are scattered. but, wait, is that a sneaky hand that nests against your shoulder?

he likes to hang back and observe you like he is absent within the moment. expect him to sit behind you whilst you converse with the others that have joined you, resting his cheek against the back of you, kissing the soft, wet flesh occasionally. a bit of a starer too - takes little shame in setting his eyes on you. your lips? he’s already flitting down towards them with more than a breath. your eyes? he has yet to break contact. your neck? beware, he’s beginning to grow antsy without kissing it till the skin starts to fester.

he’d be so annoying with this but loved to loop his finger through your bathing suit and stretch it out, before letting it band and snap against your skin. nothing too much to hurt, but enough for you to to squeal at. he likes to believe that he does it for the sole purpose of aggravating you, but really, he enjoys the little noises you let up too. the way you whine at him, tell him to stop because it hurts so much (it doesn’t, the effect of it is what you desire), the little frown that pulls at your face as your eyes pool with faux anger. a droll lick of fire he finds comical above all things else. when he’s got you on tenterhooks, almost avoiding him out of luck, to get out of his grasp, he’ll pull you back into his chest and kiss his way into an apology. really, it’s all too easy. the heat of the sun working your front as he works the string of your swim top between two lousy fingers - and there’s nothing but the scrape of sand to keep him quite as cool.

does this harrowing little move where whenever he gets out of the water, he’ll inch his way towards you slowly when you’re least on your guard. when he’s close, he’ll clinch his palms around your ankles and pull. pull, not with decency, but instead, he’ll play the dirty game, where he uses all of his strength and get you under him in a swipe. likes it when you giggle, he says, or squeal when his arm swipes against your own and you can see just how much bigger he is in comparison to you (his biceps come as hulking pieces of meat to your eye, curved and powerful) or if his thighs unintentionally come forward to trap your own in between them, digging into the sand as his dog tags coldly dangle against your neck with a blurring ache. no need to quieten, no one is watching.

refuses to divulge into this particular secret but loves kissing you when you’ve both been deep into the water, where your kisses are practically marred with the salty brine of the waves. when he kisses, its like he’s been starved of that, too. all hungry, consuming, when his lips work against yours in quick succession, marking them with little bruises where he doesn’t see it fit to stop. but when you’ve both been swimming? salt enters the equation. a bitter tinge in your mouth and he’s keening for the taste of the bitter mineral slotted against your mouth. it’s like something primal to him and a bitter thing, that he will take to the grave.

© 2023 qvrcll. do not repost any of my works on any platform.

[fractoluminescence]

"#its not about owing someone. it shouldn't be#someone sharing fanfiction and expecting appreciation for it but be ungrateful when someone gives it in the form of fanart sounds wrong"

I can't tell if you are misunderstanding me or I'm misunderstanding you - because that's my point?? It shouldn't be about owing others, it should be about making each other happy.

Ok, wait, let me back up a bit.

-=o "The way you talk makes me wonder if (...)" o=-

I wanted to address this first to get it out of the way, because it falls very flat. If I were asked the question "Who are you?" and only allowed to give a single answer, I would state "I am a fanfiction writer", because that is, in fact, the most important thing in my life /srs. I care about other things outside of that of course - my friends, my family, my mental and physical health - but my writing is the pillar that has held me up all these years, as well as the one thing I have put the most effort and hours into in my entire life (besides maybe drawing). And I am very well aware of how much I do owe that one friend that stuck with me during that early period of fanfiction writing when I needed external validation to feel like my writing wasn't shit. She may have saved the writer part of me - on top of helping me get less insecure and eventually start fixing my self-esteem - and, by extension, is likely the main reason my mental health has gotten so much better in the past 8 or so years.

So, you wondered wrong. I mean, wondering can't really be wrong, but your conclusion was wrong. Very wrong.

Moving on.

-=o Making fanart vs gifting fanart o=-

There is a difference between making fanart of someone's work and gifting them fanart of their work. The idea of a gift is that it makes the person happy - if you don't take that into consideration, then it's not a gift. I want to be clear - I do 100% think artists should be allowed to make fanart of fanfics without asking first. But if you make it specifically to make the other happy, I personally think you should ask them first - for the same reason that going around with a rose for your own sake is one thing, but gifting it to a stranger in the street is another.

If you gift someone a gift and it doesn't, by any measure, make them happy, then that is a failed gift. I don't know why some writers don't like fanarts - and I don't care, it's none of my business, but they do not owe the artist a thank you.

And if they owe them to treat them politely, that is because that's just a better way to treat other human beings - you can throw the gift part out the window. Being polite is just something people should do as best they can in the first place, not because they gave you a gift, as elaborate as that gift may be.

What I mean is this: if an author is a dick to an artist for making fanart, that's the author being a dick. They're the one in the wrong. But if you gift someone something, then you should at least take into consideration whether they'll actually like the gift or not - and maybe you'll turn out to be wrong, but at least you'll have tried to make it a good experience for them, and that's the point of a gift.

Hence, if some authors don't like people making fanart, it's just silly to me to gift them fanart. Making fanart for yourself? Sure. Making fanart for them though, no. If you want to make someone happy without considering their feelings, you're the one either making a mistake or being a dick.

-=o Authors wanting appreciation o=-

Should people treat others decently? Yes, I think they should. Should people leave more comments to authors? Yeah, I think it would be nice. Should an author thank an artist that made fanart of their work? Yes.

Is the artist entitled to a thank you? No.

Is the author entitled appreciation for what they posted? No, not really.

People should do things to make each other happy, because if more people start doing that, we'll be in a better world. But another thing that is necessary for a better world is to listen to each other. If an author doesn't like fanart, they have no right to stop you from at the very least making it (spreading it around would arguably need an entire other conversation on its own, as it can bring unwanted attention from the wrong people at times) - however, if you attempt to gift them fanart without asking and expect it to make them happy when it just doesn't, you're the one who didn't communicate enough.

And it's more complicated than just that - of course it is, it's always more complicated, and there are an infinity of possible situations out there. But, if the author does answer messages and the like (because I know some authors don't, making it much more cumbersome to ask), I think it's basic decency to ask them if you intend on it being a gift, and to not expect a thank you if they clearly did not want you making fanart in the first place.

To me, not pushing things onto others is a form of politeness, and attacking people for their genuine reactions to things that they did not ask for is a form of undue hostility.

-=o What I was originally arguing against o=-

The only point of yours I intended to argue against originally was "fanart being treated like an ugly gift for which you are politely thanked for then it goes into obscurity/trash bin".

I hate being gifted things when just asking me would have clearly told you that it was a bad idea to gift me that thing. As an example of what I mean, clothes are always a bad idea to give to me, because I'm very picky and would rather people don't gift me things that I'll later feel guilty for not wearing - in the end, I'll pretend I like it in the moment, but later I'll just feel terrible. I was once given a shirt with the American flag on it - and while it was pretty aesthetically, I loathe the fact that we traveled so much as we did when I was a kid, loathed nearly getting in trouble for not standing for the pledge of allegiance (I am French. That pledge seriously came off as cultish behaviour to me ngl, and also why should I stand for the pledge of a country that isn't my own when I wouldn't pledge allegiance to my own in the first place...let's just say I am salty). And one form of bullying I had the year we returned from the US was poeple calling me 'the American', which I very expressed made me very uncomfortable.

Now, I did not tell this to the person who gifted me that shirt. But that was a terrible gift. I nearly never wear anything with a logo on it (which is mildly obvious just looking at me - all my tops are blank), am very picky about the clothes I wear (for sensory reasons), and absolutely would not want to be associated with the US despite my history with it (to be clear, I have nothing against Americans - but I am paranoid about misleading people, and would hence be terrified of implying I'm a fan of the US by wearing that shirt, for the same reason that I would feel terrible about wearing a shirt that said "my favorite food is pasta" (it is not)).

I also hate surprises. I've heard some people like them - that it makes the gift better for them - but for me, it does not. It makes everything worse. It would have taken one minute for that family member to ask whether I would like the gift before buying it.

This was not them being an ass - it was a miscommunication issue. That is why your statement weirded me out. I would love being gifted fanart - because it just happens to be a gift I would enjoy. But I would rather people make a habit of asking each other this stuff, if they at all care about whether the author is going to like it.

And I would rather authors not be dicks, too. But what else are they supposed to do with the art if they do not like it besides saying 'a polite thank you'? Not all websites have an easy-to-go reblog function, so sharing it is not always an option. And it's not really up to the author to choose to post a work of art if the artist hasn't done it themself already, is it? At least, I would feel like that's not my place, and would awkwardly add a bunch of disclaimers in the post about how it's not my art if the artist were to say me posting it is okay...

What about saying more than just 'thank you'? Look, I'm an author, but despite the fact that I draw and the fact that I make the effort to tell people why I love a work, because that's the best feeling as an author or artist, I will often struggle to describe what I like about a piece of art. I'll feel the feeling, but struggle to put words to it. So excuse me if I don't write entire paragraphs about it. (I probably could about a fanart of my work, since I would have something to compare it to - but that is an assumption, and I may be wrong in thinking so).

-=o Conclusion o=-

I am fanfiction writer above all else, and I make art, including fanart. I would love if people made art of my work, and the only reason I haven't done it myself already is because I don't draw nearly as often as I wish I did, and just haven't gotten around to it yet. I survived as author thanks to the love a friend expressed towards my main project (a six-book series, which I have been working on for the past 8 years). And I know what that's like - so when I read fanfiction, I do my best to leave a comment nearly every. Single. Time.

However, you said it yourself - it's not about owing others. But the way you spoke about it did come off terribly entitled to me. And maybe my interpretation of that was wrong - but, if so, I am under the impression that you got what I was saying twisted as well.

You literally don't need to owe anyone anything to do good things. Doing good things is not, at least to me, about owing something to that person.

That was never what I was arguing for in the first place.

"Normalize fanart for fanfics again" and then you get

authors that are not ok with fanarts and you have to ask permission first (genuinely curious what happens if you gift one of these people an unprompted art to their writing... get blocked? ostracized? humiliated? what is the sentence?)

fanart not appreciated for diverse reasons, including the skill level, being done in traditional media, manner of representation, level and type of relationship with the author

fanart being treated like an ugly gift for which you are politely thanked for then it goes into obscurity/trash bin

not being able to share if said fanart is nsfw because of the censorship, or having to cut parts/get creative with censoring which makes the piece less attractive and it gets scrolled over

[hotchfiles]

i've been getting a lot of criminal minds and especially hotch writers followers and he's my love and number one obsession right now and i love reading how y'all write and talk about him so i decided to create an event to celebrate hotch and us!

DURATION: THE WHOLE MONTH OF MARCH

HOW WILL IT WORK?

it's a mix of questions and writing prompts, one for each day of the month! but surely, you all can participate whenever you want, i just feel that like this we get something from everyone everyday and we can interact and have a bit of hotch fun!

use tag #marchhotchness for your posts and if you feel like, tag me in it too!

REBLOG TO REACH MORE HOTCH GALS AND PALS!

QUESTIONS AND PROMPTS LIST UNDER THE CUT!

[QUESTION] Childhood. What are some headcanons you have of his childhood, how do you think he was at school, at home, stuff like that, anything you can think about or have thought about.

[PROMPT] The One That Got Away

[QUESTION] What's your favorite Hotch outfit? Any reason for it?

[PROMPT] Sympathy for the Devil

[QUESTION] What are some of your headcanons for his FBI career, do you have any?

[PROMPT] Perfectionism

[QUESTION] What's something you would change about him?

[PROMPT] Choices

[QUESTION] What pet names do you usually go for when writing him?

[PROMPT] Good Day's Work

[QUESTION] What's your favorite Hotch centered episode?

[PROMPT] Dinner Party Stories

[QUESTION] College & university headcanons! How was Hotch during those years?

[PROMPT] Eye of the Beholder

[QUESTION] What makes him so appealing to you?

[PROMPT] Summer Nights

[QUESTION] What's your favorite genre/trope to write him?

[PROMPT] Self-image

[QUESTION] What's an unpopular opinion you have about him?

[PROMPT] Beware of the ides of March

[QUESTION] What is something you never write him as even if fandom likes it?

[PROMPT] Swipe right

[QUESTION] What's something you would like to see more on his fics?

[PROMPT] To belong

[QUESTION] What's your favorite quote?

[PROMPT] End and begin

[PROMPT] Thanatology

[PROMPT] Secret box

[PROMPT] Jukebox

[PROMPT] Show and tell

[PROMPT] Out loud