#body in tatters (half joking) but my mind is happy

[saltyoaktree]

HEY GUYS GUESS WHAT

[daydreaming-in-letters]

Don't wait up

04/13/2022

Pairing: Walter Marshall x fem!reader (3rd person)

Word Count: 2,748

Warnings: language, angst, graphic description of a wet, freshly showered Walter, fluff

Summary: It's your anniversary and Walter has stood you up—again. When he finally comes home to apologise, he finds the house empty.

A/N: I can't believe this has been sitting in my WIPs for eight months now. I'm glad my muse finally showed mercy on poor Walter and let me finish this. It's my first time writing for the bear. Hope you like it.

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Picture found on Pinterest (cropped)

If you like my story, you are very welcome to like, comment or reblog. Please don’t copy, repost or share my work on other platforms.

With a sigh he checked the time before he turned off the engine and the headlights died away, leaving him in the dim light of the console. Already past ten. And he had done it again. A soft thud echoed through the cockpit as his head fell back against the head rest and his eyes shut out the world for a moment. He could see them so clearly now, her eyes, sombre from the disappointment, breaking his heart even before he would finally face her rightful wrath.

Although the day had started out rather promisingly. He had been in high spirits when he left the house, happy that this year he wouldn’t screw up again. Already two weeks ago he had made reservations at her favourite restaurant and requested to take half the day off. He had wanted to do everything right, clean up the house, iron the light blue shirt she liked so much on him, buy some champagne, strawberries and vanilla bubble bath for dessert, hell, he had even put candles and rose petals for the bedroom on the shopping list.

After all, he had a lot to make up for. There had been so much work lately, forcing him to leave early in the morning and return home past her bedtime almost every night. Of course, in his job that wasn’t unusual. There were always times when a case would keep him away from her more than he liked, but this time it had been particularly bad. He missed her terribly and he knew that she felt the same, although she never complained. She never would, that’s not who she was, but he could see it in her eyes sometimes or feel it in the way she hugged him tightly when he came to bed, her mind already far away in a dream while her body was still seeking his warmth subconsciously.

And today of all days hadn’t been any different. Something had come up last minute, shattering his meticulous plans. It was always something, he thought. It didn’t even matter what it was, he had let it become more important than her once again and that was inexcusable.

With a scowl, he glared down at the paper bag and the bunch of half-wilted red roses next to him. What a joke. She had probably eaten by now anyway and in case she had not, sitting down with him for a romantic self-made dinner was most likely the last thing she wanted to do tonight. But it was the least he could do, to just try, to apologise and hope for her forgiveness, if only because he didn’t know what he would do if she wouldn’t grant him her pardon.

But as he marched over to the front door, his measly offerings clutched to his side, he knew there wasn’t much hope left. The windows were pitch black, showing no signs of life whatsoever and when he stepped inside, he was greeted with nothing but glum silence.

“Y/N?” he asked into the darkness, tentatively. He hadn’t expected an answer and yet his chest constricted painfully for a moment. Setting down the bag on the kitchen island carefully, he huffed at the tattered flowers in his hand before he ascended the stairs, not prepared in the least to deal with the bitter resentment in her eyes.

“Y/N?”

Softly his knuckles pressed against the white wood, as if they were afraid to startle a sleeping fury. But again, there was no answer, giving him the chance to take one last deep breath before he stepped into the bedroom.

“Honey, I’m sorry,” he babbled while he crossed the room blindly. “I know I fucked up again, but—“ He halted instantly as the dull light of his bedside lamp illuminated the room, revealing that he had in fact been talking to himself. “Honey?” his voice bellowed through the room, loud enough that she would have heard him in the last corner of the house, but it stayed silent. He already knew that it was for nothing when he hurried into the corridor to roar her name again. His stomach twisted violently, sending a wave of panic through him that made his head spin when he finally reached for his phone.

A message. How could he not have seen that any sooner? Eyebrows knit together tightly, the first drops of sweat began to bead on his forehead as the three words slowly sank in.

DON’T WAIT UP

No. No, no, no. This couldn’t be happening.

“Fuck!” he hollered into the emptiness of their home, an emptiness that began to seep under his skin as well, taking hold of him bit by bit as his back slumped into the wall and he slid down onto the floor.

Happy fucking anniversary.

Softly the terry cloth rubbed along his impressive thighs, the vibration of his steps sending some drops of water flying from his wet curls onto his bare shoulders from where they set out to cascade down his back and front, some of them catching in his lush chest hair to sparkle in the warm light of the empty bedroom. He would call her again, probably just another fruitless attempt like the other ten times he had tried to reach her before finally deciding to take a shower.

If only he knew she was someplace safe. He was almost sure that she was, but this last bit of uncertainty kept nagging in the back of his head, making his heart heavy and his stomach turn every time he imagined what might happen to her if she wasn’t. Fucking job. It served him right though, this torture. Maybe it was exactly what he needed to finally wake up—if only it wasn’t too late already.

With a determined motion, his hand set out to grab his phone from the messy pile of clothes he had left on the bed, his knuckles brushing a piece of white paper in the process. A piece of paper that definitely hadn’t been there when he had vanished into the bathroom a few minutes ago.

His phone thudding back onto the bed, he scooped up the small, folded sheet with a pair of shaky hands. Carefully his fingers unfurled the note, the paper trembling violently between them, making it almost impossible to read the black letters.

MEET ME IN THE TRUCK IN 10. DON’T BE LATE—AGAIN…

He couldn’t remember an occasion at which he had gotten dressed faster than now. Skipping the underwear, he ripped a pair of khaki shorts and a plain black T-shirt out of the wardrobe before he hastily set out to dry his hair off with the towel that had sat on his hips mere seconds ago.

His heart was beating at full speed when he finally made it to the head of the stairs, flying down the carpeted wood at a reckless pace, only one thought on his mind. He had almost made it to the door when another thought suddenly pushed aside her image for a moment and he rushed back into the kitchen.

It was only when he laid eyes on the car at last, the mild summer air welcoming him outside, that he remembered to breathe. The engine was already running, headlights on, making it impossible for him to catch sight of her familiar form in the driver’s seat. Only a few steps, one last sprint, separated him from her, a distance so small and yet she was as far away as never before.

Legs heavy as lead, he fought his way over to her, his hope that he hadn’t lost her for good yet sinking with every step he took towards the black vehicle. He needed to see her, needed to look into her eyes to know if there was reason for optimism and it was this need that made him muster the courage to close his fingers around the handle and pull.

A need, he realised, that wouldn’t be satisfied anytime soon as she just kept staring out front, not caring in the least that he had just yanked open the door, out of breath and desperate to feel her eyes on him.

“Get in.”

The tone of her voice, barely audible above the whirring of the engine, gave him nothing to ease his troubled mind. But even if it didn’t show any anger either, he knew that there was no reason for hope just yet. So he simply obeyed, gliding into the seat beside her silently.

He had expected her to hit the gas as soon as the door had fallen shut behind him, but she didn’t. Patiently he waited, a spark of newfound hope spiralling through him as the thought crossed his mind that she maybe wanted to say something, hesitating to set off until she had found the right words. And it was this tiny fragment of hope that spread his lips into an unsure smile while his arm moved on its own to hold out his pitiful peace offering to her.

And even though it didn’t make her speak, it made her look. Not at him, but at the representation of his regret, and that was good enough for him. Her eyes flicking from one burgundy bud to the next as if she had never seen a bouquet of red roses before allowed him a moment to take in the woman he loved and he couldn’t shake off the unsettling feeling that it might be the last time this privilege would ever be granted to him. For a split second, it seemed as if she would reach out to accept his apology, but instead of the flowers, her fingers closed around the gearstick and yanked it into reverse.

She was a good driver, even if she was prone to speed from time to time. Sometimes he would scold her for it, making her laugh it off every time. “It’s not my fault, Walter, you know that. It’s just the way my primal instincts react to this ridiculous amount of horse power.”

But tonight, for the first time, he couldn’t shake off the urge to hold on tight to something as the truck shot through the night and so his fingers firmly shut around the handle beside him. He didn’t let go until her foot finally left the gas and she steered the vehicle off the main road and into the pitch black darkness of a forestry trail. His hands were clammy and he tried drying them off on his shorts without catching her attention, but with every minute they ventured further into the woods, he felt the sweat return.

She still hadn’t said a word since their departure and he couldn’t think of anything sensible to talk about either, not for the life of him. To say that her unusually taciturn state threw him off would have been an absolute understatement, and slowly but surely his body switched into alert mode. He couldn’t help it. It came with the job and had slipped into his DNA after all these years. Of course, he knew that it was ridiculous. She was his sweet honey pie and she would never even think about hurting her Walter Bear, or would she? He had seen people snap and kill for less than a ruined anniversary—or two.

He jolted as the truck came to a sudden halt and risked a quick glance over at his driver. Still, nothing about her gave him a hint what she felt or what all this was about.

“Honey,” he tried, treading lightly, even though his voice was raised to drown out the roaring of the engine. “You’re making me nervous.” Halfway through his sentence she had turned the key and he felt like an idiot for hollering his insecurity into the silence that followed. He tried a meek smile to make up for the volume. “Did you take me here to get rid of me?”

But instead of laughing about his silly remark, not even the tiniest bit, she just opened the door and let the night swallow her.

“Hey, where are you going?”

Throwing the flowers carelessly onto the driver’s seat, he dashed after her. She might have given him a little scare with her strange behaviour, but thinking about her in the forest, at night, on her own, made his heart fall into the depths of his stomach instantly.

A deep sigh escaped his chest when he found her right beside the truck bed, busy rolling up the cover. Probably to get a shovel, his inner detective warned, just to look like an idiot once again when the rim of the truck bed lit up in a bunch of fairy lights as if by magic to reveal a cozy bed of blankets and pillows.

“Happy anniversary, baby.”

With a contented sigh, he pulled her closer. She mimicked his movement, tightening her grip on him as well. Her hand had sneaked underneath his T-shirt a good while ago, her fingers lazily raking through his lush chest hair next to the spot where her head lay, right above his heart. He could feel her heartbeat underneath his fingertips as well, strong and steady, and he couldn’t stop a wide grin from forming when he realised that, despite everything he had feared before, it still beat for him. He was sure by now that she had staged her little surprise like this on purpose and he couldn’t blame her. He deserved every last bit of it. And he would take far worse if it meant he wouldn’t lose her.

But now that he held her in the faint light of the starry night sky, all those worries seemed long passed. And however much he tried, he couldn’t remember that he had ever felt luckier than in this exact moment. Well, maybe there was one moment…

“Do you remember our first date?” he mumbled against her silky hair.

“Of course I do. You were so nervous that night. I almost feared you had swallowed your tongue. I mean, you’re usually a man of few words, but that night I was almost sure that you weren’t the right guy for me.”

“I’m glad you changed your mind.”

“I didn’t.” She waited until he began to stir underneath her before she went on. “You did.”

“Me? How?”

Walter watched her head rise from his chest and he was about to protest when her hand abandoned caressing his fur, but then her fingers tenderly brushed aside the stray curl of hair on his forehead and he was appeased.

“Walking me home that night, making sure I got there safely and then you didn't even try to kiss me.”

“But you did.”

He grinned like the Cheshire cat as the memory played out crystal clear in his mind. God, it had been so sexy when she had slowly gotten closer, leaning in ever so slightly until he could feel the heat of her body against his own and there had been no doubt left what she had wanted him to do.

“Yes,” the curve of her lips matched his own now, “and when you finally decided to kiss me back, I knew. Gosh, I had never been kissed like that. So tender but with a touch of passion and possessiveness. And the way you held me in your arms—” He remembered. He had wanted to kiss her so badly, but he had held back, afraid to rush things, and when she had kissed him instead, everything had happened on instinct. He had pressed her to his chest, needing to feel her closer, afraid when he opened his eyes, it would have all been a dream. Walter had known in that moment as well, that he never wanted to hold anyone else from that day on. “Mmmh, nothing could ever compare to that.”

“Nothing?” His eyebrow shot up, intrigued by the challenge he sensed in her words. And with a single shake of her head, the game was on. “Will you at least let me try?”

He was met with no resistance at all when he rolled her onto her back, caging her in underneath his massive body. Instead, her teeth bit down on her lip in a gesture she knew would drive him to the edge of sanity, her fingers eagerly diving into his messy curls as he dipped down with a feral growl to claim her lips with his own.

***

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[sakuraryomen01]

"Suicidal Love" |Soft Dazai x Reader|

EEEE! DOUBLE POSTING!!! ┏━━━°⌜🌸⌟°━━━┓

SUMMARY: Dazai x Gn! Reader! Dazai and Reader go out on a simple date that has a cute ending. (No spoilers!! <3)

READER: Gn! Reader! Detective, and partner to Dazai Osamu

WORDS: 1.406k

~~~

Thank you for reading this bit, enjoy!! 💕

┏━━━°⌜🌸⌟°━━━┓

"God, it took way too long to finish our last assignment!" Dazai groaned, stretching his arm over his head and turning the corner.

"You complain a lot, Dazai." You muttered, glaring at your partner in anger.

It had been two years since you started working with the 22 year old, but he still always managed to get on you nerves like a gnat.

Always managed to piss you off when you hung out or geeked out about how he wanted to die with a beautiful girl. It angered you and made you sad when you liked him so much, honestly.

You didn't want him to die, even if it was just him joking. But, what if he really did have to say bye for forever? It never sat right in your stomach, the thought of your friend and crush dying by his own hands...

"Yo, Y/n. Why are you staring at my ass? You like it, or something?" Dazai suddenly giggled, making you look away and get pissed off all over again.

"Hell no!" You blushed, stomping past him and towards the detective agency. "We have to get going or Kunikida will nag at me again!"

"Oh, c'mon! You love staring at my beautiful behind all the time~!"

"Shut up, you suicidal maniac!!"

┏━━━°⌜🌸⌟°━━━┓

"Hey, wanna go get some food for your break, Y/n?" Atsushi asked, scooting closer to you with a light blush on his face.

"I heard there's a great place for tofu nearby! It's made just the way you like it!"

"Sorry, but I have another assignment with Dazai." You muttered, shrugging at a heart fallen Atsushi.

He sighed and nodded, biting his lip and looking at your files. Suddenly, looking happy, he motioned towards the messy files and turned to look back at you again.

"Um, do you mind if I fix your files while your out?"

"I don't mind, thank you!" You smiled, giggling when Atsushi's face lightened up before he ran to go and get himself some food.

Ranpo, munching on a Pocky, rolled over to your opposite side in his rolling chair and poked you with the Pocky in his mouth.

"Phocky phallanfe," He muttered, a angry look on his face as he looked up at you.

"Pocky challenge?"

Ranpo nodded and leaned forward, looking confident, and chuckled. You rolled your eyes and bit down on the snack, chewing on the end and staring at the food. Soon, you made it to the end and your nose touched Ranpo's.

You looked up and saw a cheeky glint in his eyes and it made you giggle, snapping the snack in half and turning away to chew. Ranpo laughed and gave you a head pat.

"Geez! My heart was racing like crazy, dammit!" Ranpo laughed, holding his stomach as he continued.

"Oh, crap!" You yelled, glancing at the clock over the door and standing up. "Dazai said to meet him by the arcade at two thirty and it's almost four! Shit!"

Getting your bag, you gathered your books and files to take while Ranpo stared in confusion.

"Did Dazai ask you out, Y/n?" He asked, cocking his head to the side and watching you.

"Yes, Ranpo." You responded, grabbing some of your tattered clothing for the cleaners and stuffing them into your side-bag.

Wait-

"Oh, have fun~!" Ranpo giggled, standing up and grabbing his candy before leaving with a small good-bye.

Staring at his leaving figure, you shook your head and went back to work. After gathered your own things and getting ready to leave, you ran off to meet up with your partner.

Once finding which arcade he meant, you spotted Dazai and ran over to him. A clean blouse and some cute shorts with sandals covered your body. Dazai was wearing a grey long sleeve, some black pants with a slim sliver chain hanging from the pocket.

Fresh bandages covered his neck and arms, the rest hidden beneath the clothing. Much like the small patches of gauze that covered your own arms and neck.

"Hello, Y/n." Dazai smiled, holding a hand out for you to grab.

This caught you off guard, but you weren't really complaining. If you got to hold Dazai's hand, it's getting held. Grabbing a hold of it, you let him tug you inside.

"Hey, want to make a bet?" Dazai asked suddenly, making you turn to him in confusion.

"I did one with... an old friend and he lost. So, I figured trying it with you might be a little fun."

"Sounds fun!"

"Alright, then if I win, I get to kiss you," Dazai smirked, gripping your hand a little tighter then before and making you blush.

"Ok.."

"If you win, you can do whatever you want!"

"Sounds fair, I guess." You cheeks flushed a light pink as you looked up at the brunette.

Dazai chuckled and pulled you to a game, as if by memory, and pushed you into a chair. It was a two player fighting-style game, and you felt like Dazai knew this game by heart.

"I bet you know how to cheat at this game!" You complained, pouting like a child at Dazai from across the games.

He leaned over the side with a smirk on his face as he sat back down.

"Fuck me and my virgin lips!" You groaned, making Dazai laugh as you entered some money and started the match.

After getting the fight started, you suddenly had the feeling to lose. Just to make Dazai happy. Shaking your head, you focused on the game, not wanting to lose the bet even thought the prize would've made you happy as hell.

"How the fuck- DAMMIT!!" Dazai yelled, leaning back with a whine.

You had just won the match and were now dancing like a crazy person on drugs. Or mushrooms if Dazai offered them.

"Okay, it's time for my prize!!" You fist-bumped the air, a wide grin on your face as you looked down at your partner.

"Ugh.. What do you want?" The loser groaned, standing from his seat and looking down at you.

"I want a new game to beat you at!"

A smile formed on Dazai's face, challenging you to one game after the other. Playing til the sun was about to set, and you were both tired and ready to go home.

Dazai's cheeks flushed pink, seeing your cute figure holding a small raccoon in your arms as a prize. His heart thumped in his chest, reaching out to hold your hand.

They don't know a damn thing..

"Y/n? Can you come with me?"

Quietly following him, your mind was clouded with the victories and defeats at the arcade. Mindlessly following Dazai to a bridge, where he said he had first met Atsushi.

"What are we doing here?" You asked, hugging the plush toy against your chest.

"I've wanted to tell you something, Y/n." Dazai smiled, turning to look at you.

The orange and amber glow from the sun casting shadows on the male, his smile hypnotizing you once again like it always did. His dark hair flowed through the light wind, a deep blush covering his cheeks as he stepped forward.

Your cheeks filled with a deep red, your hands now pressed against his chest. Holding yours, Dazai looked into your eyes and smiled sweetly, the look making your heart melt.

"I love you, partner."

He glanced at your lips, biting his, leaning forward to press his against your own. Closing your eyes, you slowly snaked your fingers around Dazai's neck, brushing against the bandages that covered it, finding his hair and playing with it.

"Mmn.." Dazai hummed, cupping your neck and making the kiss deeper.

Your chest swelled, warmth and embarrassment filling your every part. Heart about to explode with feelings made your stomach flip, pressing against Dazai's chest and looking up at him again.

"Damn.." He muttered, face red as yours and smirking. "That was something, eh?"

"That's what you have to say?" You ask, feeling your ears and neck go red too.

Dazai giggled and hugged you, leaving more kisses on your face and holding you close.

"What can I say? I'm a flustered mess!" He cooed, nuzzling into your neck and sighing.

You hugged him, the both of you blushing up a storm and sighing. Dazai's smile only widen when you asked to be his, and his alone.

"If that's you being flirty, I'll take it."

-------------------------------------

This was something I had in my drafts for a really long time, so I decided to post it now after editing it up a little.

(Ngl, it has me cringing 💀)

But it's my first fluff! I hope you like it!

[violettelueur]

— JUJUTSU KAISEN EPISODE EIGHTEEN || SAGE

↳ featuring : basically everyone at this point from jujutsu kaisen

↳ warnings : mention of blood + mention of killing + EXTREME grammar issues

↳ form : story

↳ published : 10 april

↳ pronouns : she/her

↳ word count : 3.8k

↳ synopsis : within the jujutsu world, there were three famous clans to be aware of, the Kamo clan, Zenin clan and the Gojo clan. However, unknown to many sorcerers there was one last family that was known to be apart of the three, only for them to disappear after the golden era leading some to speculate that they had died in battle after the sealing of ryomen sukuna, but....

↳ previous episode : kyoto sister school exchange event - group battle 3

↳ next episode : black flash

↳ barista’s notes : let me admit, i did cringe a bit writing this episode for some reason ʕ´•ᴥ•`ʔ but also i have been getting a lot of asks in my inbox asking me if you can add me on genshin impact, and i am not opposed to that! just tell me in advance  ╲ʕ·ᴥ·　╲ʔ also volume one of komi can’t communicate came in today! also...the idea i have is coming in soon...so beware.....BUT thank you so much for being so patient with the series and hope you enjoy this special cup of classic black coffee ʕ•ᴥ•ʔﾉ♡

BEFORE READING, I NEED YOU TO BE AWARE OF THIS:

1. the whole story belongs to Gege Akutami and the credits go to them and them only.

2. the spell curses used belong to Tite Kubo due to them being the ‘Kidos’ being used on the manga and anime ‘Bleach’ - but none is mentioned in this chapter.

2.5. for the ‘cursed spells’/kidos (bleach) i will link this video here and tell you the time stamp to check out what i am intending to show - remember i add a few twist here and there by adding the katana to link with Y/N’s cursed technique : hopefully this video is slightly better...

Destructive Curse Spell Number Fifty-Four : Haien : 6:08-6:12 (but like it’s more emphasised to look like this : 1:55-2:05)

3. if you are confused on anything, please don’t hesitate to message me since i know this whole thing is so confusing.

“Where the hell is Fushiguro, right now?” you muttered under your breath as you swiftly ran around the extremely large building you were currently in right now after trying to run away from Kyoto student: Kamo Noritoshi, who seemed too adamant to catch you for some odd reason.

At this current moment in time, you were desperately trying to find your partner after instantly splitting up with him when you both had entered the building causing you to become concerned for the shikigami user since his opponent didn’t seem to be holding back. Even though in the back of your mind, this was your one and only opportunity to go and find the curse you needed to exorcise for your school team to win the first day of the Exchange Event, you knew that the second that Kamo could sense your curse energy leave the premises, he would turn away from his battle and chase you down leaving Fushiguro the role of trying to locate you - which was going to be difficult for him.

Digging into your skirt pocket, you quickly pulled out a fist that had a few pink petals that you had kept after you had used some of them to attack Kamo earlier before gradually transferring some of your cursed energy within them. Slowly, you processed to open your palm letting the same blush coloured petals begin to glide into the air allowing them to travel down the hall you were running through right now causing specks of your cursed energy to be located everywhere they moved to lead your opponents to be somewhat confused about where you really were right now.

                                              ꕥ

“Your team partner seemed to be the smart type,” Kamo mentioned as he turned his head to look behind him since he slowly began to sense the chaotic flow of cursed energy that was beginning to vastly surround the building right now as he was quickly struggling to locate the original source of the cursed energy that he needed to find, which was you.

“She’s always been the smart type, it’s quite scary in my opinion,” Fushiguro commented before raising his tonfas in a defensive position before taking the time given to him to try to locate where you were before giving up the second he tried once his discovered how immense your cursed energy was flowing in the building right now.

‘What the hell? How does she do that?’

Hastily, Fushiguro lunged himself forward as he attempted to attack Kamo leading his opponent to block his hit before suddenly retaliating, only for Fushiguro to defend himself quickly as well. However, it seemed as if both sorcerers were not going to give up as easily as a continuous row of attacks commenced between the two causing them to travel backwards and forwards along the hallway they were in right now.

Suddenly, there was a violent contact with the backs of their wrists leading Kamo to proceed to swiftly turn his body to the side of the opposition as he forcibly thrust his palm out towards the shikigami user causing Fushiguro to use his remaining tonfa to block his attack causing his weapon to snap in half as well as him being pushed back to the other side of the hallway where he first stood.

Staring down at the now tattered wooden weapon, Fushiguro casually threw it to the side leading Kamo to begin to spew out with what was currently running through his mind.

“Shikigami users who can fight this well in close combat are precious, you’ve improved. I’m happy,” Kamo expressed with an impressed tone, leading Fushiguro to unexpectedly cringe at the amount of time you had beaten him up during the past two months of training you both had together.

“What is this sense of fellowship you keep throwing out?” Fushiguro asked in an irritated tone since he wasn’t in the mood to converse about anything to do with the clans at this moment in time.

“I’m sympathising, someday you’ll be one of those supporting the major clans, well maybe the four major clans if the L/N remained after the Heian Era,” Kamo suggested, causing the erratic-haired sorcerer to look at the opposition with a deadpan expression painted on his face.

“Gojo doesn’t even support the clans even though she is in the Gojo clan,” Fushiguro reminded Kamo leading to the sorcerer in front of him to shift slightly as if the news to him was surprising at all since it seemed as if you and the strongest sorcerer was ‘close’ despite the joking tension between you both.

“I intend to kill Itadori Yuji,” Kamo suddenly announced, as if that was not known to everyone within the Tokyo team right now.

“On Principal Gakuganji’s orders? So why chase after Gojo?” Fushiguro questioned, as he was still perplexed on why the blood manipulation sorcerer would go after you if his main priority was to eliminate his friend and classmate.

“No, it’s my personal decision. As a member of the Kamo clan, one of the three major clans, I believe that’s the right call,” Kamo answered before going silent, as if he had something in mind currently before he began to voice his opinion once again, “you should be able to understand that, too,”.

“Sorry, but I really don’t get it at all”

Suddenly, Kamo unexpectedly left something lightly slice his cheek slightly causing him to turn to view what was behind him to notice that you were standing there with your armed raised up, leading him to turn back forward to discover your katana piercing the wall that was behind Fushiguro (who looked at you with widened eyes) as your teammate managed to move his head to the side in time before your weapon pierced him instead.

“Oh, I missed,” you commented as you noticed a hint of blood escaping from his small wound, before using your other hand to violently pull the invisible chain of your katana back like a boomerang leading Kamo to swiftly dodge the weapon this time, while being surprised on how you had managed to retrieve your sword back without moving an inch towards it.

“What do you mean? You, me and Fushiguro are the same,” Kamo then declared, causing you to give him an extremely offended look from behind before turning to the side as if to convey to the sorcerer that you weren’t going to listen to him anymore.

“No, we’re not,” Fushiguro replied with an annoyed as well as fed-up expression on his face, as he didn’t expect his opponent to say something as weird as he did right now.

‘He’s spouting some scary stuff all of a sudden...and couldn’t Gojo warn me about this little attack of hers?’

“We are,” Kamo responded, only for Fushiguro to retaliate back leading you to turn your head back to the conversation with a slightly vexed look since you didn’t want such a stupid discussion between two descendants of the three major clans to go on forever like this.

“We’re not, please save those discussions for Maki-san. I no longer have any connection with the Zenin clan,” Fushiguro informed his opponent causing Kamo to turn to you as if you would try to have an understanding of what he was trying to carry out.

“Remember, I don’t actually have any connections to the Gojo clan, I’m not related to them by blood and even if Gojo-sensei adopted me out of the blue,” you explained to Kamo while raising your hands up like you were surrendering when really you were trying to avoid any topic to do with the clans overall.

“Besides, I don’t believe I’m ‘right’. No, sorry. That’s not right, I don’t care if I’m right or wrong,” Fushiguro commented as he looked down towards his raised hand with a softened expression to which caused Kamo to turn back to the shikigami user.

“I just...have faith in my own good conscience, I save people according to my own conscience. If you would reject that, then...we’ll just have to curse each other,” Fushiguro suddenly declared, as a wave of cursed energy began to surround him causing you to sudden be on guard since you didn’t know what your classmate had prepared.

Unexpectedly, a shikigami frog appeared from the side causing you to prepare yourself in an attack stance in case Kamo decided to move towards you, to which he did turn to face you only for the same shikigami to dissolve into the shadow it had come from leading Kamo to open his eyes in shock at the common but smart strategy that the younger sorcerer had come up with.

“This one burns through cursed energy, so I can only use it by itself. I only recently tamed it,” Fushiguro explained before positioning his hands in front of him as he prepared the next shikigami that he was going to summon.

“Max elephant,” the shikigami user announced before the shadow below him began to merge into the shape of a pink elephant leading you to look at the animal with widened eyes as you didn’t expect such a large shikigami to appear right in front of you.

‘What the hell?’ you thought, as the elephant’s cheeks began to swell up while Kamo began to position himself into an attack position. However, it seemed the elephant was going to attack first as a suddenly sprouted out a massive wave of water that could fill up the ocean, causing you to yell out in shock before quickly deciding to stab your katana deeply into the ground to have something to hold on to as Kamo quickly swept into the mass of water leading to the wall behind to break.

“Maybe tell me when you are going to attack, you drag!” you yelled out to your classmate in anger as he rushed next to you causing your partner to look at you weirdly since you were kind of being hypocritical at this current moment in time.

“Just jump across to attack him while I use Nue to corner him!” Fushiguro stated to you in a serious tone, leading you to nod at him before launching yourself forward towards the sorcerer with your katana blade facing the opposite direction it was supposed to since you didn’t want to critically damage your opponent.

Behind you, Fushiguro interlocked his thumbs before fanning out the rest of his finger to represent wings as he swiftly summoned Nue into the battle leading the bird-like creature to strike him with lightning, paralysing Kamo for a second before he suddenly reached into his uniform to slowly reveal a bag of blood to which he then proceeded to throw the object in your direction, causing Nue to bump into you as if to move you away from the item as the blood bag quickly exploded causing the shikigami to be trapped within what seemed to be a rope of blood.

However, you could not let the sudden event faze you as you proceeded to place your foot to the side of the building you were pushed against before thrusting yourself downwards with extreme force to attack Kamo while Fushiguro dashed towards the same opponent to do the same thing.

“I can’t afford to lose!” Kamo screamed as he began to lung forward towards Fushiguro.

Suddenly, a large explosion destructively echoed behind you leading you to reach to the ground with one hand before riskily twisting the same hand to make your body spin before you quickly landed of your feet to the ground causing Fushiguro to look at you with a worried expression before all three of you peered up above to see a vast structure of what seemed to be wood, growing ever to rapidly in the air.

“What is this?” Kamo questioned in a panic before Fushiguro noticed someone running along the tiles rooftop from above.

“Inumaki-senpai?!” Fushguro yelled out in an alarmed tone causing you to look to the side to see your senior classmate running in what seemed to be incomplete adrenaline and fear.

“Run-away!” Inumaki spoke, causing his voice to ring out to everyone as they realised that it was his cursed technique that was occurring right now, causing your bodies to instantly run away from the mass destruction that was occurring right now.

                                              ꕥ

“Huh?” Utahime muttered as she stared at the how red flamed paper talisman while everyone in the room with her peered at them with the same surprised expression.

“The game’s over? And they all burned red?” Utahime questioned as the flames quickly extinguished themselves leading to a large volume of smoke remaining.

“That’s odd, my crows didn’t see anything,” MeiMei commented.

“I’d love to say Great Teacher Gojo’s students exorcised them all, but…” Gojo mentioned as he placed his hands together as if to tell everyone in the room that he was thinking of another solution that might have caused this issue as all the screens in front of them now became static.

“The charms will burn red for unregistered cursed energy,” Principal Yaga informed everyone.

“You think it’s an outsider? Some invader?” Utahime queried, as she turned to her colleague with a concerned expression on her face.

“Does this mean Tengen-sama’s barrier isn’t functioning?” MeiMei then asked, but it wasn’t answered as Principal Gakuganji made a comment. 

“Whether it’s an outsider or not, something unexpected is happening all the same,” he mentioned before wondering how this intruder was able to exorcise the semi-first-grade he had planted in order to assassinate Itadori Yuji.

“I’m going to Tengen-sama, Satoru and Principal Gakuganji, please protect the students. Mei, you stay here and identify the locations of the students, stay in constant contact with the other two,” Principal Yaga instructed everyone.

“Fully understood, I look forward to the bonus,” MeiMei mentioned, as she turned her head towards the sorcerer trying to convey that she was willing to follow his instruction with a price to pay.

“Come on, Gramps! Time for a walk! You just finished your lunch, didn’t you? I don’t want my daughter injured with you being slow!” Gojo stated in a light but playful tone as he clapped his hands twice to get the elder’s attention, leading the mentioned sorcerer to become silent and annoyed at the Six-Eye shaman.

“Let’s hurry!” Utahime mentioned as she was becoming worried about the time they were spending on talking in the room they were in rather than going out right now to help the students that were in trouble.

                                               ꕥ

Running forward, you couldn’t help but notice how the branch that was behind you was still extending leading you to quicken your pace as everyone turned to the right, only for the same branch to twist itself in the same directions causing you to come to the conclusion that it was either a skilled curse user or special-grade curse that was the cause of it.

‘Did the mole tell whoever is doing this the location of the event?’

Although, before you could come to another conclusion on who was the mole within the group of Kyoto students, you suddenly heard Fushiguro gasp leading you to snap out of your thinking daze to see a large number of branches breaking through the wooden door that was in front of you leading to a vast volume of debris to rushingly come towards you to which caused you to over your face, allowing the veil that was processing to drip down above you to engulf every student at this current moment in time.

Once the huge mass of debris cleared itself, you noticed the change in colour around you before you turned your head towards the mass of branches in front of you with what seemed to be a curse standing on top of its masterpiece as if to showcase its sudden appearance.

“Why is there a cursed spirit at Jujutsu Tech? Who does this veil belong to?” Kamo asked rapidly, as his head was tilted up to view the intruder in front of him.

“Probably the curse user working with the cursed spirit,” Fushiguro answered, as he too was looking at the curse in front of him leading Kamo to question his knowledge about the situation in hand, while Inumaki let out a cough, causing you to worry about his condition right now since you didn’t have a single clue on how much he had used his voice in the current situation.

“There are a few unregistered special-grade cursed spirits roaming around Japan right now, probably this one was the one that attacked Gojo-sensei before,” you informed the sorcerers in front of you as you slowly began to remember the silly little drawing your adoptive father had given you when you first met with the Kyoto side’s principal.

“Tuna with mayo,” Inumaki commented as he waved a hand to signal a phone leading Fushiguro to agree with his upperclassmen as he proceeded to pull out his phone to contact Gojo, while Kamo commented on how Fushiguro could understand his classmate at all since he was still perplexed on how the Toyko students could even convey with him as well.

‘Why does it only look at me…?’

Yet, it seems as if you weren’t concentrating on their little conversation as you kept an eye on the curse since it seemed to be staring at you for some odd reason, leading you to tightly grip the hilt of your katana, as you now shifted your eyes down to make sure your fellow sorcerers (who were in front of you right now) were safe for the time being.

“That doesn’t matter right now,” Fushiguro mentioned, as he placed his phone to his ear. “Maintain our distance and retreat to Gojo-sensei- '' Fushiguro then explained, but before he could finish his sentence, the curse swiftly moved behind Kamo before proceeding to break Fushiguro’s device from his hand.

“Don’t move!” Inumaki yelled out, leading to the curse freezing in its position before attacking Kamo, leading everyone to keep a distance away from the special-grade curse.

Suddenly, Kamo grabbed another bag of blood that he kept hidden within his uniform before letting it explode once again as he began to maintain control of the red substance. “Blood Manipulation: Slicing Exorcism!” Kamo yelled out before swinging the blood shaped shuriken towards your opponent, only for the curse to be left unscathed leaving the sorcerer to be surprised at the outcome.

Before the curse could even react, Nue suddenly appeared above you before flying downwards towards the special-grade curse with the same purple lightning you have gotten used to before Fushiguro suddenly swept in close to slash the curse with a sword he was hiding within his shadow like you had taught him to within the first week of training. However, it seemed that the katana’s dent that was made only healed as quickly as it appeared causing Fushiguro to tut in complete annoyance.

“.nerdlihc hsiloof, ti potS,”

“Stop it, foolish children,” the curse suddenly said, causing you to grab your head in surprise as you didn’t expect the curse that was in front of you right now to communicate to you at all since you didn’t have a clue on what it was saying but you somehow could understand it.

“I merely wish to protect this planet, that’s all,” the curse then explained, causing you to prepare your cursed energy to flow from your hand to your katana since you now knew that you needed to use your cursed technique to keep the others safe - yet you didn’t know how you could conceal the risk of being discovered.

“It’s a curse spouting nonsense! Don’t listen!” Kamo exclaimed intensely.

“This is on a whole different level than lower-grade cursed spirits,” Fushiguro then commented to Kamo as if it was obvious enough to everyone that was around that opponent at this current moment in time.

“The forests, the oceans, and the sky, all weep so vehemently that I can no longer stand it. It’s impossible to coexist with humans any longer. They know there are some humans who are kind to the planet, but how much does their affection even help?” the curse declared as it raised its head up to the sky as if it was speaking to a whole nation.

‘It somehow established its own language system...and somehow manages to communicate with us…’

“All they desire is time. This planet can shine blue once more, given a bit of time,” the curse spoke again before a sudden twist of branches appeared right behind the curse leading everyone that was in front of it to be on guard as the sudden impact that caused the ground to shake was evident enough on how dangerous this opponent was.

“Gojo Y/N...You can’t run, the veil is designed to keep you trapped within here...We need you for what is going to commence,” the curse suddenly declared causing you to look at it with wide eyes while all the boys turned to you with panicked expression painted on their faces since they were now concerned with your safety more right now than theirs.

‘I don’t know how long this curse spell will last, but I need to make sure it is enough to let everyone run before it can reach them’

“Is that so? Ah..what a drag,” you then asked, as you raised your katana up in the air with one hand as you gradually began to transfer a large amount of cursed energy within the blade. “You see, I began to notice that you seem to be a plant type of curse, I assume...something like wood right?” you rhetorically asked, before using your other hand to cover your mouth with the back of it to conceal the next few words that were going to come out of your mouth.

“Destructive Curse Spell number fifty-four: Haien,” you whispered before a sudden flame began to engulf the metal blade leading the boy to look at your weapon in astonishment at how wild the flames seemed to be due to the amount of cursed energy you had placed within the same blade. “So...why don’t you just burn to death them, would you?” you threatened in a low tone causing the boys to dash behind you before you swung your katana downwards to allow the flames to wildly and uncontrollably burst out in front of the special-grade curse leading to the building behind it to begin slowly extinguishing with the massive flames.

Turning around, you grabbed the fabric of Fushiguro’s and Inuamki’s uniforms (while yelling at Kamo to run) before using your strength as well as a hint of your cursed energy to violently push them forward away from the flames before running towards the same direction with them since this was the perfect opportunity to make a dash for it without any of the boys getting injured or harm in the process.

‘Whoever is responsible for the veil...is going to die..’

© violettelueur 2021 : written and published by violettelueur - do not steal or repost

[writesowhatnext]

submerse myself in brie // fred weasley

Summary: Bill & Fleur’s wedding is quite the event… too bad about those wedding crashers. Anyway, what wedding is complete without awkwardness at the buffet table?

Request: Are you taking requests? If you are could I ask for another Fred Weasley? Maybe something where they’re fighting together (bills wedding or battle of Hogwarts maybe?) and the reader rescues him in some way but gets injured herself but not fatally because I can’t deal with too much angst 🙈 hope that’s not too specific... also just wanted to say I love your writing it’s amazing 💕💕

A/N: thank you!!!! Terribly sorry for how long this took holy cow but I hope this is alright love I loved the request and that is why this is so long also I wasn’t quite sure how to split up the flashbacks so like we’ll see how this goes

Reader: female

Warnings: injury, battle, suggestive, couple stuff, alcohol, suggestive, implied sex

A groan peeled open your lips before you could even think about opening your eyes. You couldn’t really focus on anything, though, not when everything just ached, not with your head pounding and your ears ringing. People’s feet blurred past you, rushing and falling with flashes of light. You frowned. Blades of wet grass pressed against your cheek. The smell invaded your senses.

__

Fred groaned like a child at Molly’s pestering, the vibrations echoing down your spine. You rolled your eyes, pressing your back further into his chest in response.

“When I get married,” he said, turning to face George with a grimace. “I won’t be bothering with any of this nonsense. You can all wear what you like, and I’ll put a full-body-bind curse on Mum until it’s all over.”

Molly tutted at her son, ignoring him for the most part as she scurried away to fix something else that didn’t really need fixing.

“Oh, really, mate?” George said, drinking his tea.

You were happy to see him up and around; you remembered how scared Fred had been after the incident on the broomsticks. The bandage around George’s head still looked particularly grizzly, but you were glad he was feeling better.

“Does Y/N have anything to say about that?” he said cheekily, hiding his face in his mug as he watched you with playful eyes.

“Why would I?” you asked, pulling away from Fred to grab a piece of toast off the table. “It’s not like my standards are low enough to marry this git.”

“Oi!” Fred huffed.

You tried to move out of his reach before he grabbed you, or worse, tickled you, but you weren’t fast enough and you squealed as he clapped his hand on your arse.

“Cheeky,” Fred said, pointing at your accusatorily as you glared back, pulling your dress straight with your toast balanced in your mouth.

“Might have to teach my wife a lesson,” he teased, shooting you a wink. As you moved to sit by George on the kitchen counter, you mimicked Fred, ignoring the backflips of your stomach at his words.

__

Your stomach flopped again as you rolled over, the wet grass splaying over your face, no doubt covering your cheeks in mud. There was a sharp pain at your side and a nagging in your head as you tried to remember what exactly was happening. Where you were. Where the bloody hell Fred was. Pushing yourself up onto your elbows, every breath felt like daggers in your side, your ribs bruised horribly. Whatever happened had certainly left you winded. It could have been worse, though, you thought as your vision cleared up.

Standing up was almost impossible and each breath was wheezy as you fought the fog clouding your mind, your knees sinking into the mud as you did. Your dress was ruined, that much was obvious. The fabric and your skin were both covered in dirt and dust and black marks as you reached your feet. You tried to smooth it down, but it didn’t seem worth it, especially not as your eyes trailed up to see the wedding tent.

Well, what was left of it.

The golden marquee was in tatters, torn here and scorched there. Guests were running under the archways and disappearing into thin air like there was no tomorrow, no doubt encouraged by the black figures shooting brightly coloured spells at their feet. You almost wished the ringing in your ears hadn’t stopped as the sounds of shouting and carnage began to fill your senses.

__

“Y/N, you look lovely, dear,” Molly said, the pride in her voice obvious.

“Thanks,” you said, shooting her a wink. “I’ll be sure to pass the message on to my stylist.”

She laughed at the joke, patting your hand softly and leaving to tell someone off, no doubt. You remembered fondly her insistence earlier that no, she was never too busy to do her favourite soon-to-be-daughter-in-law’s hair. It was a good job though, you thought, that Fleur was too busy getting dressed up herself to hear that one.

You finished your champagne, more than grateful that the flute was enchanted as you watched it refill. As you stared, you became suddenly aware of someone’s eyes on you and turned to see Fred sat beside you, a strange look on his face.

“What’s wrong?” you asked lightly, sipping your drink.

“Nothing,” he said, a decidedly un-Fred-like smile playing on his lips. It was far too angelic to be recognisable in his features.

“Is there something on my face?”

You all but slammed your glass on the table, using the shiny napkin holders to try and get a better look at your reflection.

“No,” he chuckled, his laughter only growing as you made faces, looking for some stray crumbs or Aunt Mildred’s lipstick. “There’s nothing wrong with your face.”

He placed his hand on top of yours, stopping your borderline-neurotic inspection. You looked up at him with a pout and a fond smile spread across his lips.

“There is,” he said, cupping your face in his hand and running his thumb along your cheekbone. “Nothing wrong with your face.”

Struggling to hide your pleased grin at his compliment, you leant into his touch.

“Sounds like someone has a crush, Weasley.”

“Oh, really?” he said, his hand leaving your face with a pout in its wake. You smirked though, when he scooted his chair closer to yours, like a child, leaning on the back of yours with his elbow instead.

“I don’t know what you’re on about.”

“Mhm,” you nodded, his smile contagious. “Is that so?”

“Actually,” he said conversationally, leaning the side of his head on his hand. “I think you might be the one with the crush.”

“How did you know?” you said dully, slowly placing a hand on your chest in mock surprise. “How can I ever cope with the knowledge that you will never feel the same?”

He barked a laugh at your dry, monotonous tone, his head dropping to the side as he watched you for a moment, an unreadable look in his eyes. That was before, however, a sly smile lifted his lips – a look you were very familiar with when it came to Fred. You fixed him with a suspicious stare.

“How about we get out of here?” he said, shifting in his seat.

“What?”

Your eyes followed him as he stood up, brushing down his suit briefly before offering his hand.

“Come on,” he insisted impatiently. He made a face at your unwillingness.

“Fred,” you said incredulously, shaking your head at his gall. “This is your brother’s wedding.”

“I have other brothers,” he shrugged before rolling his eyes and leaning down to grab your hand. “And we’ll be back in 20 minutes, half an hour, maximum.”

You stood up, enjoying the way his hand twisted to thread your fingers together.

“We will, will we?” you said, raising your eyebrows with an amused grin.

“Yes.”

He moved to wrap his hand around your waist, pulling you closer so he could whisper in your ear.

“With you looking like that, I doubt we’ll need any longer, sweetheart.”

You choked out a laugh at his words and looked around you as you escaped through the side of the tent.

“If we get caught-“ you threatened, cutting yourself off when he shot you a smirk.

“Live a little, sweetheart.”

__

“Fred,” you said quietly, your voice coming out hoarse. You blinked, swallowing and letting yourself adjust to the frantic rush of your surroundings.

“Fred,” you repeated, slightly louder this time as your heartbeat began to race.

People were apparating in and out like wildfire and there were already a few bodies collecting on the ground. Only injured, from the looks of it, but your mind thought the worst. Spotting your wand on the ground, you bent down to pick it up, your whole body singing in pain at the stretching of your muscles.

“Merlin,” you muttered, a grimace contorting your features. That was going to hurt tomorrow.

You searched for someone you knew in the crowds, a recognisable face in a sea of sparks and mist and gold wedding decorations. Your reactions weren’t the best, though, and your head was swimming. Albeit, though, you were grateful to be getting your land-legs back with each shaky step. Every flash of red hair you saw had your heartbeat jumping, but none of them were Fred, all most likely some distant Weasley cousin and none of them anybody you wanted to see right now.

What had even happened? One minute you and Fred were watching Fleur and Bill dance – she did look ever so lovely in that dress – and the next you woke up on a bed of damp grass with a killer headache and a distinct lack of memories. You didn’t have to be a genius, though, to put two and two together. The dark figures slowly herding people inside the tent and shooting spells every which way were Death Eaters; you could only hope that Harry had gotten out safely. Despite your hopes, though, your thoughts were preoccupied with Fred and you found yourself praying that he was okay.

“Fred!”

__

You hoped you weren’t giggling too loudly, and that your dress wasn’t too creased, and that it wasn’t too obvious what you’d just spent the last 23 minutes doing. As you snuck back into the tent, you separated from Fred, shushing him and moving to interest yourself in the buffet as to avert suspicion. Necessary, you figured, with Fred being so very suspicious. Typically, he ignored your plans and followed you to the buffet table, a cheeky grin slapped across his face

You glared at him, distracting yourself with the mini sausage rolls and putting as much distance between you both as possible. Harry, unlucky as ever, was caught in the crossfire.

“You alright there, Harry?” Fred said, looking over the display. “Any of the classically beautiful Weasley cousins taking your fancy?”

“I’ve got other things on my mind, actually, Fred,” Harry said tightly. You felt your stomach drop slightly; he was far too young to be carrying so much weight on his shoulders.

“Ah, no mind,” Fred replied, as unaffected and blasé as ever. “I’m sure you’ve got your eye on someone else anyway, eh?”

You watched Harry’s face heat up and rolled your eyes affectionately: Fred had a knack for turning even the darkest of issues to humour.

“I’ve got my eye on someone here actually,” Fred said, piling cocktail sausages onto his plate with a mischievous smirk.

“Oh, really?” Harry asked, turning to face Fred. He clearly didn’t care but you did notice his double-take and frowned, your brows drawing together. “Who’s that?”

“Well, if I told you then I’d have to kill you,” Fred nodded solemnly, shoving three mini sandwiches in his mouth at once and shooting you a surprisingly subtle wink.

“Sorry, uh,” Harry stuttered, pointing at Fred and then gesturing to his own face. “You have, uh, something on your-“

“What?”

Fred frowned, his mouth stretching as he swallowed the food and began to rub at his cheek.

“Lipstick, I think,” Harry said, decidedly awkward.

Your eyes widened and you gulped, not daring to look at Fred

“Ah, cheers for that Harry.”

“Not a problem, Fred.”

With that, Harry turned to leave, surprised to see you behind him. You watched his eyes flicker down to your lips and you prayed to Merlin, Godric and even Salazar that he wouldn’t be able to tell.

“Alright, Y/N?” Harry said softly, his mouth set in an embarrassed smile.

“Yeah,” you replied, your voice a couple of octaves too high. “Thanks. Enjoy your…”

You looked down at his plate, swallowing uncomfortably as you felt your face heat up.

“Chocolate frogs.”

“Ah,” Harry nodded. “Thanks.”

You clenched your teeth as Harry walked past you, cursing Fred under your breath. Chuckling, he slid next to you, his plate once again overflowing with food.

“Brilliantly eloquent there, love. I don’t doubt that Harry’ll enjoy those chocolate frogs, but I’m sure your well wishes are appreciated.”

“You’re the worst person alive,” you snapped, not looking at him.

“That is not what you said earlier,” he said smugly. You turned to shoot him a dry look as he pushed a block of cheese into his mouth.

“I hate you so much,” you insisted, your smile giving you away.

“Me?” Fred pressed a hand to his chest defensively, spewing crumbs everywhere as he spoke.

“Yes, you-“

Your bickering was cut off by the clinking of a spoon against a champagne class. You both turned to face Molly, who was looking particularly happy with herself as she announced Fleur & Bill’s first dance.

“Come on, you pig,” you huffed, grabbing his arm and pulling him towards the crowd forming around the happy couple. Despite his grumbling, he put down his plate and followed you. Ever the gentleman, he brushed off crumbs onto his trousers before grabbing for your hand.

As you watched them dance, you couldn’t help but let your mind wander. It was hard not to imagine you and Fred in their shoes in a couple years. Molly always told you that you argued like an old married couple as it was, surely it wouldn’t do any harm to make it official. You couldn’t think like that now though, not with the constant threat of war looming. It never seemed more real, though, than when Kingsley Shacklebolt’s patronus appeared, his deep voice ringing through the tent, announcing the incoming storm, creating a frenzy.

Fred’s hand tightened around your own and when the Death Eaters started appearing, you were grateful for the contact. You looked between the faces you recognised, somewhere between heartbroken and horrified to see Ginny and Molly already firing out spells; Harry, Ron and Hermione rushing outside, hopefully apparating to safety. Distracted by the others, you barely noticed a Death Eater appearing next to Fred. Fred, in his panic, didn’t seem to either. Just as he readied his wand, you found yourself pushing Fred to the side and out of the crossfire. The force of the hit ripped your hand from his and the last thing you remembered before you were knocked out cold was your body flying through the side of the tent.

__

“Y/N!”

You spun around, the new memories and very familiar headache making you wince as you all but collided with Fred, suffocated instantly in his tight grasp.

“Merlin,” he sighed, his breath fanning against your cheek as you struggled to form a sentence. “Am I glad to see you.”

He pulled away, cupping your cheek with one hand whilst the other still held your waist gently. “You had me so worried.”

He didn’t need to tell you that; you could see it for yourself. His relief was slowly ironing out the deep crease between his brows and his eyes were shining with tears in the light of the moon.

“Pushing me out the way like that, what were you even thinking? Could’ve been killed. Merlin, you flew right through that tent, George had to hold me back, he did. If I wasn’t so bloody worried, I would’ve ripped that bastard to-“

“Fred, we really need to go,“ George insisted, his eyes drifting to you for a moment as he anxiously fiddled with the wand in his grip.

“Hang on a minute,” Fred said distractedly, turning to his brother for a moment as his fingers slotted behind your ears, cradling your face.

“Are you okay, love?”

You breathed for a second, only vaguely aware of the commotion still going on around you. Without another moment’s hesitation, you threw your arms around Fred’s neck, holding him close and revelling in the familiar scent of his shampoo. You smiled as he relaxed in your hold, his chin digging into your shoulder.

“Guys-“ George said, the urgency in his voice unmistakable. Fred pulled away abruptly, his worried eyes scanning your face.

“Are you alright to apparate?” he asked, wetting his lips with his tongue.

You nodded.

“Let’s get the hell out of here then.”

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[pascalpanic]

Winnie the Pooh Pajamas (Maxwell Lord x f!Reader)

Summary: You don’t see your body the way Maxwell does: you see it as undesirable, Maxwell sees it as the epitome of attractiveness. After a tough body image day, you ask Maxwell if he thinks you’re sexy. W/C: 4k Warnings: SMUT (18+), language, body dysmorphia, food, mentions of anxiety, oral sex (f recieving), p in v sex, brief joking mention of a daddy kink, rare soft Maxwell -> sarcastic asshole Maxwell again. reader is afab. A/N: Well! This is inspired by feeling like shit after a long day, and wanting to get some much needed love and attention. Lots of love and thanks to @mandoalorian​ and @ilikechocolatemilkh​ for helping me with the ideas (and specifically, shout out to Rach for having Winnie the Pooh pajamas just like I do 🥰) Additionally, it’s only briefly mentioned but this is an AU where Maxwell’s company actually did find oil, and he’s successful and happy. I just think he deserves it.

Today was shit. Plain and simple. It all started when you picked out a shirt that didn’t cut like the normal things you wore to work. It was tight and you felt like it exposed your rolls, and the tight jeans you wore felt painfully confining. The coffee shop you work in was busy, leaving you frantically scrambling around. You were bent over a steaming espresso machine for half of the day, and running drinks around when you had a moment. Rude customers had abounded, enough that you ended up crying in the walk-in fridge for a while, sobbing amongst the rising dough. The coolness had only accentuated the heat of the coffee shop when you returned to the floor to finish your seemingly endless shift. Needless to say, you were hot and tired. When you got home, you immediately changed into a pair of comfortable pajamas and slid into your sheets, enjoying the coolness of the satin your boyfriend had gifted you.   Maxwell was a wonderful boyfriend, always showering you with gifts. He even told you that it was unnecessary for you to keep working at the coffee shop, that he’d take care of your bills and do anything you needed. He was the CEO of a newly successful oil company, after all. Money was not an object to him, and he wanted to do anything he could for you. As tempting as it was, you felt like it would be taking advantage. Hell, the two of you haven’t even slept together yet. Plus, something in you was determined not to be a housewife, to break the mold of the 1984 woman. More and more women were going to work, yes, but you were determined to be one of them. Your messy hair is in a ponytail, and you feel bloated and disgusting as you look down at your body. Your pajamas hold nothing in, accentuate nothing, simply loosely sheathe your body. Your breasts feel ridiculously saggy, your stomach feels too thick, and everything else simply feels terrible too. The pajamas, patterned with Winnie the Pooh, make you feel childish and upset. That’s probably why Maxwell hasn’t slept with you yet, you tell yourself. You’re not attractive to him. He’s stringing you along for some emotionally manipulative fun and will probably dump you sooner rather than later. You’re a child to him, being a bit younger. He’s only doing this to be nice, to indulge your childish crush. Normally, you are far from easily distraught. You’re sarcastic and witty, always teasing your millionaire boyfriend. Rare is the moment you feel the man’s power over you, always treating him like an equal, despite his wealth. That’s why he was drawn to you, your sass and spunk and spitfire attitude. You can face anything with a deadpan joke and power through, but the day you’ve had makes everything worse. Your eyes well with tears and you roll on your side, clinging to the sheets like you’re hugging them as you allow yourself to cry it out. A few moments into your little pity-party, you hear something moving in the apartment. The jingle of keys. “Fuck,” you whimper as it hits you. Maxwell had planned on coming over tonight, bringing takeout for the two of you to eat while watching movies. Eating something was the last thing on your mind right now, wanting to stay far away from anything that could make your body feel as miserable as it does.

“Darling,” Maxwell calls as he opens the door to the apartment, his face falling a little as he doesn’t see you in the living room. You remain quiet, suddenly embarrassed by your state, and Maxwell closes the door behind him as he walks in. He spots your keys, knowing you’re home, and walks into the kitchen, not finding you there either. He sets the food on the counter and continues his little search. “Where are you?” He calls out, finally wandering towards your bedroom. “In here,” you say weakly and peek up from your duvet. Your eyes, reddened and damp, meet his and his heart sinks. “Oh, my dear, what is it?” He asks, coming to the side of your bed and sitting next to you on the edge. He pushes the covers back from your head and cups your face gently. You try to speak but your voice chokes on tears, simply crying more and leaning into his hand. He pouts softly and caresses your hair with his other hand. “Talk to me, my love,” he says gently, his heart breaking for you. Biting down on your lip, you swallow hard. “Just… shitty day,” you manage out before another sob comes out of your throat. Maxwell sits fully on your bed and pulls you up to sit next to him. You collapse into his chest, making his polo damp with your tears. He doesn’t seem to mind, just strokes your back and presses a kiss to your head. “Can you tell me about it?” He asks gently, his lips still pressed into your hair, breathing in the scent of your perfume and the espresso of the shop. You shake your head, and he simply nods, holding you close. “Let it out, and I’ll be here to talk when you’re ready,” he murmurs, making his breathing purposely slow in hopes to calm you. After a little bit, your sobbing does slow. “I’m sorry,” you sniffle, lifting your head to look at him. You’re a complete mess, and you know it, tears and snot coating your face, but Maxwell simply wipes your cheeks with a tissue and smiles gently at you. “What for?” He asks, tossing the tissue aside and grabbing another, allowing you to blow your nose into it. “You brought food and it was supposed to be a date night and-“ “It still can, my dear,” he chuckles softly, pushing the stray hairs of your ponytail back down against your head. “Let’s get you to the couch and we’ll eat. We don’t even have to talk about whatever it is that’s upsetting you, okay?” He asks kindly, pressing a kiss to your forehead. You nod and that earns a small smile from him. “Good. You wipe your face down and meet me on the couch. I’ll grab the food,” he tells you and stands from your bed, squeezing your arm before retreating to the kitchen. You look down at yourself and your lip quivers again. These are your favorite cozy pajamas, the furthest thing from sexy. You had been hoping to finally consummate your relationship with Maxwell tonight, and here you are, in your tattered and cozy pajamas. You bite back tears and wipe your face, taking some deep breaths and a sip from the glass of water on your nightstand. You finally pad out to the living room, and Maxwell’s eyes light as he spots you. “There you are. Come here, my darling,” he offers, opening his arms. You gladly slide into them, sitting next to him, and he kisses your head. “Do you want to talk about it?” He asks. You shake your head. “No. I just want to eat and be with you,” you tell him, making yourself smile. He smiles back and nods, handing you your container of takeout and a fork. Even though it’s your favorite meal, it’s hard to eat tonight. You pick at your food, taking small bites, looking up at him every so often. It’s a comfortable silence for a while, before he interjects. “You’re not eating like normal,” he points out, noticing that your food is hardly touched. “It’s your favorite. What’s really wrong?” He asks, cupping your face and turning it to face his. He sets each of your meals aside on the coffee table, that signature little pout on his lips. “It’s nothing, Maxie, please,” you shake your head, not wanting to meet his eyes. You know yours will start watering again. “It isn’t. I know it’s not, so don’t tell me that. Talk to me,” he pleads, holding your face so that you have no option but to look at him. You swallow hard before nodding. “I just… had a bad day at work,” you shrug and look into his eyes, but you can both tell it’s not true. He raises a brow and you sigh. “Just… tough day in general. I don’t like my body, and my shirt felt disgusting on me, and everything is gross about me and now I’m in front of you in my ugliest pajamas,” you start, face contorting as you hold back tears. His heart is broken, truly. “What are you talking about, dearest?” He asks gently, his fingers toying with a loose strand of your hair. You bite your lip and look down, but he tilts your chin up to face him with one ring-clad finger. “You don’t ever need to doubt how beautiful I find you. You know that,” he tells you softly. He sighs gently. “I have those issues myself. I don’t like the way I look on camera. I highlight my hair so their eyes are drawn to that, and not my stomach. I wear big suits to hide my rolls, to hide my arms. I don’t like them,” he admits, swallowing hard. “But this isn’t about me. You don’t need to worry about how beautiful I find you, ever. I think you’re the most beautiful creature to ever grace the earth.” “Then why haven’t we done anything yet?” You finally blurt. He‘s taken aback. He didn’t expect that to come from you, most certainly not now. “Do you think I’m sexy, Maxwell?” You ask, your self-hatred evident in your eyes. “Because I don’t. I don’t see how any of this can be attractive, and I totally get it if that’s why we haven’t done it yet. Because I’m not anything special, I’m really not, I look like this in front of you, this powerful handsome man, and I’m just-,” you’re cut off by a hitch in your throat, hands covering your face as your rambling comes to a stop. The tears are close to spilling from Maxwell‘s eyes as he calls your name gently, removing your hands from his face. His sadness is clear in those beautiful brown eyes of his. “Of course it isn’t, and of course I do,” he shakes his head, his eyes scanning your body. “You’re probably just saying that because I’m crying in front of you, I put you on the spot with that, and that’s not fair, and I-,” you ramble again, rubbing your eyes and daring to look up at him. Maxwell grips your arms, pulling you close to him. “Listen to me, my dear,” he commands you, still gentle yet demanding. “Do you want me to tell you how sexy I think you are?” He asks, raising an eyebrow. He’s serious now. You simply nod. You could use some reassurance right now, even if you probably aren’t going to believe it. “Then I will. I think about you every night when I lie in bed. I touch myself to the thought of you. Is that enough?” He asks, his voice tinged with lust. It sends a shiver down your spine. “I picture you in those sheets I bought you, spread open for me. Do you touch yourself to me too? I wonder that every single night, those perfect lips against mine in my mind.” His hands slide down your arms until they reach your fingers, his lacing between yours. You gulp, but not from holding back tears this time. You nod softly, your eyes looking up at his and seeing how they’re almost hungry. “I don’t care what you’re wearing. I don’t care if you’re wearing pajamas with Winnie the Pooh on them. I think about your body and your body alone. How good you’d feel around me. How perfect those tits would feel to squeeze while I’m eating you out.” The thought of it makes you shudder. You flutter your lashes, his eyes never leaving yours as he tells you everything. “There’s never a moment where the image of you fingering yourself is not in my head. I get hard during business meetings wondering if you’d call me Max, Maxie, or Maxwell in bed. Do you understand now?” He asks, and you nod again. “Do you need me to prove it to you?” He asks in a low voice, leaning in until his lips are just next to your ear. You can’t help yourself: a small whimper slips from your lips. “Please,” you whine to him, removing your hands from his to cling at his shirt desperately. He smiles softly, his chest already heaving as he pulls his head back to look at your stunned face before kissing you deeply, unlike he ever has before. It’s passionate and needy and you can’t get enough of it, pulling yourself closer to him by the polo. “Maxie,” you mumble into his lips, sending a rush of blood directly to his straining cock. “You want me, my love? Because I’ve wanted you for so long,” he murmurs for a moment between kisses, then kisses you again. Again and again, the harsh kisses grow even harsher until you’re practically smashing your faces together. He finally breaks away, panting. “Your room, my beautiful girl,” he nods, standing quickly and planting a kiss on your head. You follow quickly, pulling him along to your room, a grin finally on your face. “That’s what I like to see,” he chuckles at your grin, stopping in the doorway to kiss you contently, undoing the buttons to his polo with one hand. Breaking away, you look up again, into his eyes. “You meant everything you said?” You ask, the anxiety still lingering in the back of your mind. Maxwell pouts. “I’d never lie to you, my dear. How could you break my heart by insinuating such a thing?” He asks, hands tracing your waist and sliding under the pajama shirt. “I have never wanted someone more than I want you right now, those pajamas and all,” he tells you, voice deeper, kissing you hungrily. The passion and fervor of his lips are enough to convince you. You moan softly into his lips, the two of you finding your way to the bed. Maxwell pushes you down onto it, making you giggle, and gets on his knees at the foot of the bed. “I am going to make you feel so good that you’re going to forget anything negative you’ve ever felt about yourself,” he promises you, pulling down the elastic-waisted shorts and finding that you’re wearing no panties beneath them. “Power of positive thinking,” he murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to the inside of your knee. “Maxie,” you whimper as he spreads your legs, pressing the softest of kisses up the inside of your thigh. Before he reaches the top, he spreads your legs wider and sits back on his heels, simply enjoying the view. “You are magnificent,” he murmurs in a hushed voice before being drawn to your core like a starving man to a feast. He treats you just like that: a feast. Maxwell slowly traces his tongue through your folds, causing you to moan helplessly and let your head fall back into your sheets. You grab at your breasts through the shirt and Maxwell breaks away for a moment. “Take that off and keep playing with them for me,” he chuckles darkly before going back at it, his tongue circling your clit in a deliciously slow motion. You nod and peel off the shirt, tossing it aside. You grab at your breasts, toying with the nipples and sighing at how perfect Maxwell’s mouth feels against you. He slips in two fingers and you groan helplessly, one hand finding its way into his highlighted waves. The other grips your comforter even harder as he curls the fingers inside of you. “Oh fuck, Maxie,” you whimper helplessly, toes curling, one leg resting over his shoulder. He continues his motions, everything slow and dragged out but perfectly teasing. He moans against you and you bite down on your lip to stifle a helplessly loud cry. “Feels so fucking good,” you whine, earning a content hum from the man between your legs. Maxwell sucks on your clit gently, swirling it with his tongue again a moment later. It all feels so good, everything he does. Your eyes slip open in the lust and find his immediately. He looks so fulfilled and happy to be doing this, completely blissed out. “Oh fuck,” you shudder as he winks in time to a particularly hard curl of the fingers, hitting just the spot inside of you. “You cocky- ah,” you whine and your eyes slip shut again. “Gonna cum, baby,” you groan out. Maxwell makes a noise of approval into you and the sensation is just enough to push you over the edge, crying out his name. “Maxie, Max, so good,” you whine, fingers gripping his hair tight. “Ah, oh shit,” you coo, coming down from your high. When you’re finished, Maxwell pulls away with a shit-eating- well, pussy-eating- grin. “How was that?” He asks, pressing a gently kiss to the inside of your thigh. You laugh happily, your head spinning. He chuckles and runs a hand through his hair. “I could spend hours doing that, darling. You just make me want to destroy you.” The words are enough to immediately arouse you again. “Then come do it, please,” you giggle, looking down at him shyly and wiggling your eyebrows. He laughs and nods, standing. “Wait. Strip for me, give me a little show,” you tell him with a smile. “You told me everything you think about me. It’s my turn.” He almost looks shy, a rare look on the man. “Well, it’s nothing impressive,” he chuckles, looking down at the ground. “I’m sure I’ll love it,” you nod, smiling sweetly at him. “Come on, please, Maxie.” That nickname drives him wild, increases the tenting in his pants. “Well, alright,” he chuckles, shaking his head and pulling his polo over his head. He’s not incredibly well sculpted, but it’s easy to tell he’s strong. He does have a little tummy, but it’s endearing. He pushes down his pants and steps out of them, and you raise an eyebrow at the outline of his hardened cock in his briefs. It’s large, you can clearly see, a little damp spot where his precum has leaked. “You are so fucking hot, Max,” you tell him, adoration in your voice. He smiles softly at that, raising an eyebrow and chuckling. “It’s much appreciated, my dear,” he shakes his head and smiles. You grab a condom from your nightstand and toss it to him. He sheds his boxers and dear Lord, you are going to be destroyed in the morning. He’s slightly above average in length, but he’s thick as can be and you lick your lips in anticipation. He catches a glimpse of your look and smirks a little to himself. He rolls the condom on, tossing the wrapper on his discarded clothes. You scoot back to be slightly propped up against the headboard and Max climbs over you, kissing you slowly and deeply. He’s a wonderful kisser, you’ve known that, but he’s even better when he’s consumed by the lust deep inside of him. Your hands cup his face as you open your mouth, allowing his tongue in. He breaks away with a soft moan as you reach down to slowly stroke him. “My darling, are you ready?” He asks, your faces close together. “So ready,” you nod in agreement, smiling softly. He smiles back at that and lines himself at your entrance, his eyes slipping shut as he pushes into you. His mouth falls slightly open at the feeling, and you moan back at the sensation. “Oh god, you’re so thick,” you moan, picking your head up and kissing along his neck softly. Everything about you is soft, he notices: your skin, your lips, your lush body, your perfect pussy. He groans at the feeling as he slowly bottoms out, and you match his noises and cry out gently. “Please, Maxie,” you moan softly, your lips pressing gentle kisses behind his ear. He nods and pulls out just as slowly, almost all the way before he pushes back in. He isn’t gentle, but he takes his time, moving painfully slowly. “You feel so good, so so good,” you whimper, flicking your tongue across the shell of his ear. Maxwell lets out a genuine moan, his hips speeding up ever so slightly. One of his hands moves to trace circles into your clit with two fingers, in time with the thrusts he pushes into you. It feels perfect, the man’s strength evident in how he thrusts. “I love your body, my dear,” he mumbles as he pushes in and out of you. “You are so beautiful. Not a single flaw on the entire thing. So tight around me, so soft,” he shudders as you unintentionally clench around him. “So tight,” he nearly hisses, his fingers working harder into your clit. “You make me feel so good,” you nod frantically as his head drops to kiss along the curve of your neck. “You’re so strong, so good at this- fuck, so good,” you moan as he hits your g-spot perfectly in time with his fingers. “Ah, right there, hm?” He chuckles breathlessly, thrusting at just the same angle and earning a strangled cry from you. “Right- there-,” he grunts with harder and harder thrusts, pushing harder and harder against that perfect spot. “Maxie, please,” you cry now, tears leaking from the corner of your eyes. “I’m gonna- fuck, I want you to come with me. Want you to feel what I feel,” you whine, frantically grabbing at his back. “I’m close too, my love,” he murmurs, thrusting harder. “Come on, cum with me,” he nods. His words are all you need, his tone triggering the release as your walls flutter around him. The sensation causes him to let go too, finally feeling the perfection of his orgasm. He keeps thrusting against the spot he knows makes you weak, shuddering as he feels you gushing around him. Once you’ve both finished, he slows down and sighs, pulling out of you and lying next to you in your bed. He’s flushed and sweating, and he looks absolutely perfect. “Maxie,” you coo, resting your head on his chest and pressing a kiss to his warm skin. “That was… fantastic,” you admit, already missing the feeling of him inside of you, stretching you out. Max smiles, eyes fluttering shut. “You, my dear, felt absolutely amazing,” he chuckles softly, wrapping an arm around you, the other going under his head. He presses a kiss to your hair, smiling softly. “I hope you know I’m not done with you yet. I told you I was going to prove to you just how sexy I think you are, and we’re going through with it.” You laugh a little, noticing how tired he already seems. “Okay, old man,” you tease, and he swats your ass lightly. “Watch your words,” he laughs, kneading at the skin he just smacked. “I might have to get mean with you,” he half-teases, raising his eyebrows as he looks at you. “I wouldn’t mind being absolutely destroyed tonight,” you smile innocently, scrunching your nose and bringing your face close to his. “Daddy,” you say flirtatiously, wiggling your eyebrows. Max’s smirk grows even wider. “Oh no, now you’re asking for it,” he chuckles, giving your ass another little slap and smiling at your reaction. “Careful, my dear,” he murmurs before bringing your face to his to kiss him deeply. He’s already deeply aroused again, you can tell from the way he’s kissing you, and you giggle as you break away. “Mm, there’s your usual self,” he says with a grin and rubs your lower back. “I’m glad to see it. I guess I’ll have to fuck some sense into you more often,” he winks, laughing at the fake gasp you give. “You asked me if you thought I was sexy, I gave you my answer,” he says defensively, smiling still. “Even in those Winnie the Pooh pajamas, you’re the sexiest woman I’ve ever seen, darling,” he tells you earnestly before pressing one more kiss to your lips.

[cathrrrine]

RUN | Pietro x Reader

Originally from my Wattpad

CHAPTER 18: SAFE HOUSE

—

A/N: I hope you guys like this one ! I just wanted to add a little bit of fluff after all that angst-fest. Happy reading my loves! :)

———

"Enigma." I mumbled, the strange woozy feeling in my chest expanding as I shifted in my car seat to turn to Pietro.

"What?"

"I figured it out. I'm your enigma. Everyone has one." There was a lightness to my words as I said them and oddly enough, I didn't really mind. "You said you couldn't figure me out, therefore I'm your enigma."

I could see his hands on the wheel tighten just a little bit. The whole car ride, I'd been observing him. I just couldn't get his words out of my head.

You're driving me crazy, Y/N.

My head felt like it was about to explode by the sheer amount of force it took for me to figure out what he really meant. I felt...perplexed. I was wracking my entire brain out by trying to decipher the whole point of our previous conversation. Why did I drive him crazy? Why did he feel the need to tell me that?

Why did I feel like I should trust him?

"My enigma?" He scoffed, throwing a playful, cocky look my way. "You are nothing close to anything I'd call mine."

I rolled my eyes, "You know, it's no wonder you've got a head full of grey hair, you grouch."

"Hey!" He gasped, genuinely shocked at my comment. "I am most definitely not a grouch."

His accent made his reaction much better than I could've imagined. The way he rolled his R's made me laugh a little, so I copied it just for kicks, the letter teetering on the edge of my tongue. "Yep, a grouch would most definitely say that."

I scanned his face for any signs of annoyance, waiting to see if my words left any impression on him. Instead, I saw his expression grow heavier. I'd miss it if I blinked, but I swore I saw a flash of that same expression he wore when he confronted me before in my cell. Seriously, I have got to figure him out, and soon. Before I'm too vulnerable.

"We're here."

I turned around, looking out of the window to see the building I'd been dreading to return to. My heart felt like it had been dipped in acid and encased in lead. Suddenly, I knew why Pietro grew quiet.

Getting out of the facility had been fun, exhilarating almost. Steve had helped me escape just as he promised and left me with Pietro in the garage, handing him the car keys and giving him strict instructions to drive away while remaining incognito.

Pietro had a dazed look on his face then, part-confusion and part-anxiety, but I knew that we had one thing in similar; roguery in our veins. Pietro is a little troublemaker, I had mused as I eyed his way-too-giddy movements. He had no trouble following his Captain's orders, he was eager almost.

I told Steve that we could hide in an old safe house of mine, a tiny studio located somewhere in a sketchy town that was close to the facility so it was reachable by car, but far enough so that it wouldn't be a problem if any of his teammates were to come looking. At least we'd have enough time to escape if they did.

The last time I'd been here had been 2 years ago. Back when I thought I was still running from The Winter Soldier. Everything the Captain had revealed to me made me want to throw up. How else were you supposed to feel when someone told you that you'd been running and hiding for years, from a ghost? I felt like I'd been on an unprompted wild goose chase, except that instead of chasing the 'goose', I'd been chased by it. What a joke.

"You alright?"

Pietro raised an eyebrow, nothing but that disgusting kindness in his eyes. I wanted to strangle him right then and there. Was he offering me pity?

I threw him a half-hearted scowl, "Why wouldn't I be?"

"I'm just asking. This can't be easy for you, no?"

His words hit me like a truck, and the realisation that he wasn't offering me pity, but simply just inquiring, soon came after. It was an odd question to be asked. I'd rarely been offered that luxury, of someone caring enough to ask if you were alright or not. It felt weird to be on the receiving end of that kind of sincerity, something I thought only existed out of my own realm. Yet here I was, trying to figure out the answer to his question.

I shook my head in an effort clear my thoughts, sort of like an etch-a-sketch. "I've been through worse."

We entered the building quietly, ignoring the looks thrown our way from a few bystanders. It was a rather rundown building, just as I had remembered it to be. I'd never made company with any of the people who live here, because how could I have? What kind of shit assassin would do that?

"They must not be used to new faces, huh?" Pietro tried—and failed—to ignore the man eyeing us from our right, clearly uncomfortable with the unwanted staring.

"I'd assume not. It's a pretty small town."

Pietro cleared his throat, "I see."

He looked a little uneasy, shifting from foot to foot. I followed his line of gaze and oh my god, the man was still staring.

"What the fuck are you looking at?" I snarled. He scurried away immediately, eyes averting from us either in shock or in fear. Though it was most likely the latter, considering the way he kept looking back with wild eyes to see if we would chase him down.

I turned back to my speedster companion, and sure enough, he looked much better than he did before. "It's fine, he's just a creep."

He nodded, "I was never fond of creeps."

We climbed up the flight of stairs that lead to the studio apartment, silent the whole way up with Pietro taking in his surroundings and with me being a bit preoccupied with the thoughts swimming in my head. Memories from my past kicked in violently, and I tried to swallow them down.

"Is this it?" He said as I stopped in front of a tattered door with the number 42 on top of it, pointing to it with his right hand.

"Yep." I walked closer to the door, reaching up to the number 4 and trying to detach it from the wall. Apparently though, it was too high for me, sitting just at the tip of my fingers. Either someone had moved it higher, or I'd grown shorter since

Heels. I'd worn my goddamn heels when I last set this thing up. I'd have slapped myself by now if my hands weren't occupied.

Annoyed, I groaned and stood on the tip of my toes. Just a bit more.

"Here."

My breath caught in my throat as I felt his voice reverberating through his chest which was now level to my head. Pietro came up behind me with his taller stature, his height enabling him to reach for the 4 in less than a second, his hand brushing against mine in the process. I blinked, hard, trying to steady myself and grab hold of my thoughts. I felt my face grow hot, warmth spreading through my skin like fire.

I tried not to make it obvious, how much his skin contact had bothered me. I felt stupid for making such a big deal out of it, and even more so that it was caused by him. What the hell? My throat felt tight, so I cleared it with a cough and put on a neutral expression seamlessly.

He backed away as soon as he grabbed hold of the number, twirling it around his fingers with a playful, lopsided smile. Holy shit, I want to rip it off his face. Just punch the living shit out of him.

"Hmm, maybe you're not that useless after all." I scoffed.

He grinned, "Well, if the grouch hadn't been here, it would've taken you all day to reach for this thing."

"Huh, so you admit you are a grouch."

"I didn't—Whatever you say, gnome."

"Wow, look at you." I snickered. "Practicing sarcasm are we? Pray, do tell, was I your inspiration?"

He shook his head in defeat, then he flipped the 4 over, eyebrows meeting in the middle. "What is this anyway? Some sort of secret hidden in here?"

Classic topic changer.

"Yes," I snatched the sign from him. "A very important secret actually."

I turned the thing around and pressed hard on the back of the long vertical line with my nails, breaking the plastic cover. It gave in with a little bit of pressure, and I dug my fingers in to pull out the slender, metal object that I had hidden 2 years ago.

"Ah. The key." Pietro looked impressed.

"Smart, isn't it? It's an old trick that I stole from a woman in Amsterdam."

He moved closer, and I felt myself flinching a little, afraid my body would have the same reaction that it did just a few seconds ago. Luckily, he didn't notice how distressed I was.

"Why bother though, if you weren't going to keep the key with you? Why not just kick down the door or climb in through a window or something?"

There he goes again, with his perpetual rambling.

"We're 4 floors up idiot, climbing in through the window is too risky, people might see and I might fall and die, which is not very ideal, in case you haven't figured that out yet." I inserted the key into the lock and twisted it, hearing the clack of the latch and bolts as they moved.

"Plus, I just did it for fun. I never even knew if I'd come back here or if this building would even still be intact by the time that I did."

He didn't take up the trouble to reply, or even if he did, I didn't hear him. The moment the door opened and I stepped foot inside the room, I was immersed in the haze of my past. A version of my life that was drastically different to the one I had now.

My emotions were all over the place.

A cloud of dust covered the room from years of vacancy, our shoes creating imprints onto the floor. I was surprised no one had broken in for the whole 2 years. Somewhere in the back of my head though, the memory of me threatening the landlord popped up.

"If I come back and I find out that my house got fucked up, I won't hesitate to drive this knife through your chest."

It's a wonder how far a knife and few sharp words could get you.

"Looks like it needs a bit of vacuuming, just a bit. But that's just my opinion."

I fumbled around for something hard and chucked it at Pietro's head with full force, earning an 'Ow!' immediately after.

"What was that for?"

"I've been meaning to throw something at you for a while now." I shrugged, then continued to explore my previous home even further.

It was exactly as I left it, minus the accumulated bits of dirt and the herd of dust bunnies. I walked to the small kitchen space, opening the cabinets and finding the slightly dented kettle and the 2 mugs I had kept there, untouched. Then I fished around the drawer beneath it and eventually found the box of—hopefully unexpired—tea packets and some Sweet'N Low's.

My fingers clasped around the faucet knob and turned, waiting for a good minute for running water. "Come on, come on..."

After some violent sputtering and grumbling from the sink, out came the water flow. Yes! I cheered mentally.

Then I turned to the silver-haired grouch, gesturing to the tea packets I held between my fingers. "Care for some tea?"

He shrugged, "Only if you won't poison me."

taglist: @ifilwtmfc

[vydante]

New Idea: “The Good Days”

So. Male! Reader, of course. Set in the Marvel Universe, but no specific canon. Freeform.

Not sure if I wanna do a series or a one shot; if it's a one shot, the ending will be ambiguous.

No pairings in mind as of yet. Maybe Steve or Bucky. Or both.

Someone from the main group of Avengers. Maybe Tony, because I'm tired of type-casting him as a dad and not a love interest. Not sure about Bruce and Clint, but I'm open to that. Sam and Thor too. Also open to no love interest at all.

Basic gist, there's 2 universes, the... "Original", and the "Alternative". Basically parallel universes of each other.

Imagine "Original" as the bad ending in a video game. "Alternative" is the good ending. 

O! for original, A! for alternative.

For preface, O! (Name) has reality bending powers, similar to MCU Wanda's, but not based off of the Infinity Stones. I don't know if I want A! (Name) to have powers.

Original world follows this gist:

Steve get's super-soldiered and goes under the ice.

The Avengers are formed: OG's include Iron Man, Thor, Black Widow, Hawkeye, and the Wasp (Janet Van Dyne).

Steve gets defrosted and joins the Avengers. A few years passes.

O! (Name) discovers his powers and is taken under the Avenger's wing. Powers is very weak at this point.

Others join, like Sam and Spider-Man. Wanda and Pietro joins the Avengers, and you and Wanda become friends as well as training pals.

You may or may not start dating XYZ.

Bucky gets found and joins the Avengers.

You notice your mental health has been deteriorating so you leave the Avengers.

Years passes and some shit goes down, similar to the Accords or the SHRA, where it splits the Avengers in half.

Basically, a war happens, and it's a mess. Key figure heads die. Like. Perma death, hard mode only, no revives. 

Steve kills Tony in the heat of the moment. 

Steve later dies from an assassination or something. 

None of the casualties are resurrected. Sam or Bucky takes over the mantle. Or, if they're dead, no one does. No one's there to take the Iron Man mantle.

The Avengers are effectively no more. You can only watch and mourn, as the public feasts in both fear and veneration for the shitshow. Some even call you out, but none of it was ever important.

A force from the universe comes to Earth and attacks them. The Earth is sorely underprepared after having all of their enhanced/ heroes basically kill each other, we lose, and the Earth turns into a wasteland, similar to Infinity War/ The Blip.

OR. You help win the fight, but at the cost of too much. And now you have to pick back up the singed and tattered pieces.

Whatever was left of the Avengers/ supers/ enhanced/ meta’s are only a handful, including you.

Ever since the big event, years has passed and you’re leading the effort to just help people survive. By now, your powers have grown exponentially, but at the cost of your mental and physical health. You can basically feel and control what's happening on the fucking moon. You haven't slept in months, keeping your body alive purely through your powers.

Something happens, but basically you accidentally get transported to another parallel universe, the Alternative one.

[Insert depressed and exhausted (Name) meeting a way too happy (and healthy) (Name)]

O! (Name) is cautious, but at this point, you're waiting to just drop dead, so whatever happens, happens, and who knows if you’ll put up a fight.

You're dropped in the middle of the casual lounge where almost all of the A! Avengers had been chilling. Like, you land ass-to-couch.

Well, more like ass-to-lap. A! Thor's lap, specifically.

And after a whole shit show, and confirming that you're 99% (Name) and not evil, they calm down and realize, wow, you look awful.

Like, "this tall elderly child needs to be put into a medically induced coma before he overworks himself”, kind of awful.

A! (Name): Wow, you look like shit. When's the last time you slept?

O! (Name): Mm. # months ago.

A! (Name): Lol, funny.

O! (Name), a man who watched his world essentially die: Do I look like someone who's told a joke recently?

A! (Name):

O! (Name): 

A! Avengers:

A! (Name): Oh my god, you’re really serious-

Basically, A! Avengers figure out that O! (Name) is a MESS and whatever it was that happened in his universe was bad.

O! you find out that this universe has it... really good. Like, really good.

A! universe went pretty much the same, but instead of the Avengers being broken by the SHRA/ Accords, they united together and signed it, but ended up doing a ton of revising and made it work.

And the baddie from out of space? Easy.

And everyone lived as a result. 

Wow, and doesn’t that fucking suck for O! (Name)? Seeing someone live your dream? That someone being literally you? A happier, healthier, and more well off version of you?

In the event that A! (Name) doesn’t have powers, O! (Name) is shocked, and decides not to use them. If A! (Name) can live without powers, then O! (Name) deserves to not have to use them since you’re so, so tired.

If A! (Name) does have similar powers, it’ll be significantly weaker than O! (Name) since A! (Name) hasn’t had to use it as extensively as O! (Name) did. A! (Name) will basically constantly ask O! (Name) to train him. Same thing goes for A! Wanda.

Unsure if O! (Name) ever will.

Anyways, that’s what I had in mind so far. If you have any thoughts or suggestions, let me know. I’m mildly buzzing with ideas right now.

(Inspired by some Stony fics I’ve read over the year(s).)

[vvitchering]

I love, LOVE, your writing! Would you be up for some hurt/comfort Gesekel? I'm a sucker for it, especially along the lines of Geralt thinking Eskel has died on the path but then he shows up with his grin and the whole "you should know better Wolf". 💜

I’m so happy to hear that you enjoy my writing ;w; I write for you guys so getting feedback like this literally fuels me. I am also a sucker for hurt/comfort so you are absolutely in luck~

--

It’s never a pretty sight when he makes his way through settlements ravaged by the war. As Nilfgaard pushes ever northward, the people suffer. Geralt is used to carnage wrought by mindless creatures, but seeing the violence done by men to men makes his stomach turn. The bright side, if it can be called a bright side, is that with war comes death, and with death come monsters. War can be profitable for witchers, if there is coin left to be paid. 

He’s just north of White Orchard, in one such town left ransacked and bloody by a skirmish. The notice board had been covered in desperate pleas for assistance with the encroaching necrophages, drawn in by the stench of blood and bodies. Ghouls and Algouls looking to make meals of the dead would quickly move on to living prey once the bodies were devoured. A witcher was needed. Geralt holds one of the contract offers in his hand as he talks to the barkeep at the town’s tavern, one of the only buildings left intact. 

“Ghouls were a big problem, yeah, but you’re a bit late. Another witcher beat you to them, though that might be to your benefit.”

Geralt frowns. He doesn’t often encounter other witchers. They tend to stick to their own territories. 

“And how is that to my benefit exactly.” Geralt asks, already mentally counting his losses. If this town was already clean, he had a week at least to go before he again encountered a settlement big enough to find work in. 

The barkeep gives him a slightly sympathetic look.

“He drove out the flesh eaters, but they still got ‘im in the end. Poisonous bite, you know? Got ‘im right in the neck and it wasn’t long before he stopped moving. Real shame. Wasn’t a bad guy for a witcher, had a bit of good humor about 'im, even with that scarred face of his.”

Geralt’s heart speeds up despite himself. There are plenty of witchers with facial scars. It’s not him. 

He asks the barkeep to describe the good humored witcher. 

Brown hair, strong jaw, wide nose, and terrible scars that disfigured the side of his face and twisted his mouth. 

Geralt’s blood chills in his veins. It’s not possible. No way he’d let something as mundane as a ghoul take him out. 

“Friend of yours?” the barkeep asks.

Geralt is reeling, still trying to process the information, still finding loopholes, when the man reaches underneath the bar and produces a long thin object, wrapped in a white sheet. 

“Was gonna try to sell it, but if he was your kin it’s rightfully yours.”

Any doubt Geralt was trying to hold onto vanishes as he pushes aside the sheet. It’s a witcher’s silver sword, adorned with runes as familiar as the ones on his own sword, and altered at the grip to be easier for larger hands to wrap around comfortably. It’s Eskel’s, unquestionably. And no witcher would let his silver out of his sight unless...

“Where.” Geralt bites out. “Where is he.”

“The body? Dragged ‘im to the old oak by the hill. Couldn’t spare the labor to bury ‘im, you understand, but it seemed the least we could do for his help.”

Geralt snatches Eskel’s sword from the bar and leaves as quickly as his feet can carry him. He leaves Roach tethered outside and takes off at a run toward the hill he can see by the edge of the town. It’s a mistake. It has to be. It can’t be, the evidence is in his hands, but it must be. 

There’s a figure resting at the base of a huge oak that looms into view the closer he gets to the hill. It’s not him. It can’t be him.

Geralt skids to a stop. Falls to his knees in the dirt, the sword slipping from his hands to rest in front of him. 

Eskel is splattered with dried but foul smelling blood and his armor is ripped and tattered. The townspeople must have arranged him in the dignified position he laid in; back straight, eyes closed, his steel sword resting on his chest. They’ve laid him to rest like they would a respected warrior, albeit one who they couldn’t spare the resources to bury or burn.

There’s a high pitched agonized whine coming from somewhere. It takes Geralt a moment to realize it’s coming from his own throat. Somewhere in the back of his mind he knew this day would come. No witcher ever died in his bed. But for it to be Eskel, already... They were both still young, by witcher standards, barely men, not even at their first hundred years. And Eskel was gone. 

Distantly, Geralt registers that he’s crying. He feels lightheaded, like his soul is trying to escape and go somewhere else, like it can’t stand to exist in a reality where Eskel does not. Geralt shuffles forward on his knees until Eskel is close enough to touch. He bends over the fallen witcher and presses his face to his neck, searching for his scent, one last memory to hold onto. 

Eskel’s lightning storm essence is there still, underneath the putrid stink of necrophage blood. Geralt breaths it in, greedy, desperate, tears dripping from his face to Eskel’s neck and leaving tracks in the filth there. 

And then he hears it. A weak fluttering thud. A heartbeat. Geralt freezes, doesn’t even dare to breath, lest he destroy himself all over again with false hope. 

A moment passes. Then another. 

The dull thud sounds again. 

He’s alive. 

The relief is sudden and all consuming. Geralt collapses, curls around Eskel as best he can with all of their armor between them, and lets his sobs shake him apart. Eskel’s heart is slow, slower than even a witcher’s should be, and his chest doesn’t move at all for how shallow his breaths are, but he’s alive. 

He’s alive.

Geralt tries to match his breaths to Eskel’s and finds himself slipping into meditation. Eskel is clearly on a deeper level than Geralt has ever experienced, if being handled and transported by humans and having his sword taken from him didn’t draw him out of the trance. Geralt drifts, exhausted by both his grief and his joy, and only stirs when he feels the pillow he’s made of Eskel’s chest shift under him. 

Eskel groans and it’s the most beautiful sound Geralt has ever heard in his life. He sits up in a hurry and snakes a hand under Eskel’s neck to help the larger witcher sit up. His eyes are open and his pupils shrink and grow rapidly as he blinks and reorients himself. His gaze lands on Geralt and he smiles.

“Could’ve used you here a few days ago.”

His voice is rough and dry, but the deep tones are instantly comforting.

“You so far off your game you let a few ghouls turn you into a chew toy?” Geralt teases.

Eskel rolls his eyes and and moves to rotate his shoulder until it pops satisfyingly. He stretches his neck, producing a similar crack, and Geralt catches a glimpse of the half healed bite wound on Eskel’s neck. The barkeep’s story had been true, then. He brings a hand up to smooth down Eskel’s collar and lightly brush over the angry red skin. Eskel hisses and slaps his hand away.

“Gonna scar.” Eskel says gloomily. “I’ll never live it down.”

“You will. You’ll live.”

Geralt means it to sound light and humorous, but the look Eskel gives him says his joke didn’t quite land the way he’d hoped. 

“I’m fine. It was just a ghoul. Got me in a hell of a shitty spot, but it’ll take more than that to get rid of me.”

“I know, its just...They told me you died. You looked dead. I couldn’t hear your heart.”

Eskel reaches up and slides his fingers through Geralt’s hair to cup the back of his head. He pulls lightly, bringing Geralt close enough to knock foreheads with him. It’s an action that they’d done since they were children at Kaer Morhen, their own special way of being close. Geralt can hear Eskel’s heart now, beating away strong and loud in his chest. 

“I’m sorry I scared you. I really am fine.” Eskel says quietly, rubbing absently at Geralt’s scalp with the hand buried in the white strands. 

Geralt leans into the pressure for a moment and then pulls away, clearing his throat after the emotional display.

“Don’t fucking do it again.” Geralt says, feigning annoyance. 

Eskel laughs and Geralt once again has a new favorite sound. 

“Yeah, sure, Wolf. I’ll do my best.”

*~*

:’) well that certainly got away from me. I hope this makes up for how long it took me to answer!!

[terfssuck]

Sirius Casts a Patronus

Sirius was worried. His final exams were next school year and he still couldn’t cast a patronus. Everyone else in his year could cast one, even Robert Kingston, and he was always making mistakes. In transfiguration he’d turned his goblet into a black widow spider when they were supposed to turn them into birds, in charms he’d set his jug on fire when they were supposed to fill it with water, and in Defence against the Dark arts, well, everyone knew he was the reason Professor Huxley didn’t return that Autumn. Sirius knew the problem, see he’d never had a happy memory, not until he’d met James, Remus and Peter that is. At home his brother bullied him, and his parents beat him, and even the house elf, Kreacher, was ordered to kick him now and then, and the abuse only gotten worse since Sirius had been sorted into Gryffindor, instead of Slytherin, like the rest of the “Most ancient and Noble house of Black”, well, except for Andromeda that is.

The marauders were all on the train home from Hogwarts when Sirius finally told them why he was always covered in bruises, told them why he couldn’t cast a patronus. The marauders had always thought something bad was happening at home, after all, the bruises were only there in September, but they were still shocked when their suspicions were confirmed. “Want me to curse them for you?” Offered James, only half joking. Sirius shook his head and rolled his eyes. He was glad James had tried to lighten the mood. They laughed and joked the rest of the way home and Sirius wished the train ride would never end. Sadly it did.

That summer was beginning to be the worst of his life. As soon as he got home his mother flew into a rage, screaming, slapping and clawing at him, she’d found his collection of muggle objects- a magazine about computers, another about muggle rock bands. “How dare you bring this filth into my house” she’d screamed, ripping the pages and throwing the tatters into the fireplace. After that he’d kept himself locked in his room for a few days, some days crying, others, just staring blankly at the walls, and his family let him be. It turns out, that was the calm before the storm. That Saturday evening his father came home from visiting friends and was drunk. “Come here boy,” he’d shouted at Sirius. Sirius, though knowing something bad was about to happen, obeyed. It’d be far worse if he hadn’t. “Sit!” Orion yelled. Sirius sat on the wooden floor so hard he knocked the wind out of himself. Then from the corner of his eye, he noticed Orion was drawing his wand. “W-what are you doing?” Sirius dared to ask, his voice breaking. “Something I should’ve done a long time ago.” Orion spat, “Crucio!”

Sirius had passed out. When he awoke, every inch of his body ached. He tried to stand but his legs burned in protest. The crawl up the two flights of stairs to his bedroom were agony. When he made it, he slowly packed his trunks, he noticed his left arm was broken. Tears streaming down his face, Sirius then went to bed, but didn’t sleep. He waited, ears keen as he listened for his parents going to bed, then he crept downstairs, trunks levitating ahead of him, he sat on the kerb around the corner, for what seemed like hours, when suddenly, something very large and purple pulled up alongside him.

Welcome to the knight bus, I’m your conductor Ernie, where will you be going this fine evening?”

“G-Godric’s Hollow, please?” Sirius hoped James’ parents wouldn’t mind him dropping by so late. He’d only met them once or twice and they seemed very nice, and James really looked up to his father.

When he arrived he realised he didn’t have to worry. Mr Potter, Mrs. Potter and James were all stood at the door. “H- how did you know?”

“Dumbledore.” Said Mrs. Potter, wrapping Sirius in a warm hug, her eyes twinkling”

Of course. Dumbledore knew everything about everyone. Sirius let himself sink into the hug, and for once he felt safe.

The rest of the summer was the best Sirius could ever remember. The potters were so kind and caring and treated him like another son, he had his best friend to talk and joke with, and the potters even let Peter and Remus come around whenever they wanted. They visited Mr Fortescue’s, watched the quidditch World Cup, got lots of novelty’s from Gambol and Japes, and they even visited James’s aunt in the south of France. They’d even all decided to help Sirius with casting a patronus charm.

The last week of summer rolled around, and although he’d been practicing everyday, perfected his pronunciation and wand gestures, and had enough happy memories to last a lifetime, Sirius still couldn’t cast the patronus charm.

“Don’t worry mate you’ll get it” James said, clapping him on the back.

“How do you know?” Sirius said skeptically.

“Because you’re my brother.” Sirius’s heart swelled with love and pride, and warmth. He threw his arms around James, his best friend, no, his brother. He was happier than he’d ever been in his life. He finally had the brother he’d always wanted, and James wanted him too.

“Come on Padfoot, let’s go back inside, we’ve been working on it all day.”

“Hang on, just let me do it, one more time.”

James shrugged his shoulders. “Alright, but then let’s get some supper, I’m starving.”

This time Sirius knew he was going to do it. He thought of James, of him calling him brother, of the hug, of the jokes, of how much he loved his new family, because that’s who the Potters had become. And when he said the words they were filled with love, and joy and hope. “Expecto Patronum!” And a slither of silver burst from his wand, small at first, but then it grew, and grew, and grew, until the entire night sky was filled with silver white light, and then then the light shifted and changed into a dog, and then a pack of dogs, and then all the dogs merged together to form one enormous dog that bounded around the garden excitedly, tail wagging, and Sirius beamed.

[ahsokadrabbles]

𝐝𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐥'𝐬 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐛𝐨𝐧𝐞  [the mandalorian x reader]

the mandalorian and the reader travel to the ghost town of mos pelgo in search of someone to lead the child to others of its kind. (part one of an ongoing series.)

this fic was born after listening to the song devil’s back bone by the civil wars perhaps a few times too many. if you haven’t heard it, i highly encourage you to check it out here because it’s a great song. i was inspired by the idea of loving a man who has committed many wrongs, but for the right cause, and then immediately thought of din. anyways, i’ve had this one on my mind for a while so i really hope you enjoy it. happy reading!

word count: 5k

warnings: angst, alcohol, your usual run of the mill rowdiness

The Mandalorian and you had a simple relationship. You were to care for and watch over his son when he couldn't, which happened to be quite often due to his demanding lifestyle. In return he housed you, fed you, and provided you with protection when necessary. Nothing more, nothing less, right? That was the way the rugged bounty hunter saw things, but you on the other hand felt differently. Something about his stone-cold demeanor drew you in. He was strong and brave, intimidating, and feared, and all of those characteristics stirred something deep within you. 

But to him, you were only the Child's caretaker. Nothing more, nothing less.

You rolled over on your cot to face the wall, your eyes still blurred from sleep. Groggily you felt around the folds of your sheets until you grasped a small rock with one pointy end that you had collected from a planet you had long since left. You and the bounty hunter traveled so often that all the planets and systems had begun to blur together. You never paid much attention to where you were anyway. You could be on the most beautiful planet, covered with white sands and clear seas, yet you would still be more entranced by the mysterious Mandalorian. 

You scratched another line into the wall and counted how many were there. You had been traveling with the Mandalorian for 124 days, give or take a cycle as you had only started keeping track a few weeks after you boarded the Razorcrest. It looked as if you were a prisoner counting the days they spent locked away, but really you were tracking how long it was taking for the Mandalorian to finally see you. Not just with his eyes, but deeper than that. To you, it seemed like your infatuation was painfully obvious, but maybe the warrior was oblivious, or just completely ignoring you. It was probably the latter.

You sat upright in bed as your vision cleared the rest of the way and caught a glimpse of the Mandalorian putting on his chest plate.

"Sorry," You muttered, immediately placing your hand over your eyes.

Seeing Mando without his armor might as well have been seeing him naked. And seeing him without his helmet would probably end in your untimely demise. 

You liked to think he wouldn't kill you, but sometimes you really weren't sure. 

"It's okay," His deep and muffled voice replied, watching as you sheepishly removed your hands from your eyes.

You could hear the child cooing over in Din's half of the room so you climbed out of bed to go fetch him. You hummed a soft and sweet good morning to the baby before sweeping him up into your arms and planting a kiss on his wrinkled forehead.

"Where are we headed?" You asked as you bounced the child in your arms, earning you a fit of soft giggles from him.

"Tatooine." Mando bluntly answered.

As usual, he wasn't much for words.

"And we'll arrive today?" You guessed, pointing the baby in the direction of its father who he was making grabby hands at.

"We should land in an hour or so. We're meeting a friend of mine at her hangar."

Your brain got stuck on the word 'her'. You didn't even think the Mandalorian had friends, especially not lady friends. You swallowed your jealousy and handed the baby to the man.

"Spend some time with him while I get dressed. I'll be up to make breakfast in a second." You told him, watching as he took the baby with a gentleness that did not match his hardened exterior.

When you finished getting dressed, you climbed up the ladder into the upper quarters. You were immediately blinded by the light of the bright suns of Tatooine as you exited the darkness of the lower bunks.

"That was quick." You muttered, squinting as your eyes adjusted to the light.

You strapped in for the landing, clutching the child close to your chest as the turbulence rattled the ship's interior. You and the Mandalorian both let out your usual sigh of relief when you thankfully made another safe landing.

"Alright, she's waiting," Din said, referring to his lady friend that you were painfully jealous of.

"Maybe the baby and I should just stay here, you know how Tatooine is." You said, looking into the Mandalorian's expressionless visor.

You didn't know if your heart could handle being around Mando and the mystery woman.

"Nothing will happen if I'm with you two." He replied lowly, motioning with his arm for you to follow.

You unwilling trailed behind the man, the small green child clung to your hip. The rear door of the ship opened with a great hiss, a pool of hot golden light following in its wake. The Child gurgled and shielded its large dark eyes with a small three-fingered hand, taken aback by the sudden rush of sunlight. 

"I thought that hunk of junk looked familiar," A raspy female voice greeted, her body merely a black silhouette against the scorching desert suns.

"Hello, Peli." The Mandalorian replied. 

Mando may have appeared stoic to most, but you'd been around him enough to been to notice the slight queues in his voice. When he found something funny, there was a certain waver to his gravelly tone, and it was present in this moment.

When your eyes finally adjusted to the light you were met with the sight of a short woman who was more hair than height. She had a head of wild, curly hair and was clad in a tattered jumpsuit. She wasn't at all what you were expecting, but the mischievous glint in her eyes was strangely comforting. You felt as if she were an old friend to you.

"Did you finally get hitched, Mando?" She asked, looking you up and down as if she were examining your worth. 

Your face grew hotter than what it already was in the blistering Tatooine heat as the man beside you cleared his throat.

Suddenly, you felt uncomfortable in your tattered, olive-colored overalls. You sure didn't look like a worthy bride.

"She is the Child's caretaker." He answered, his gaze still locked on Peli.

Your chest panged at his words and you held onto the Child tighter, tucking his small green head beneath your chin.

"Well, that's your loss. She's one fine specimen." The woman with the unruly hair replied as she flashed you a lopsided grin.

"May I see him?" She beamed at the baby clutched in your arms and the blush that was rapidly spreading across your face went unnoticed to her. 

You looked down at the Child and watched as he gazed at Peli with admiration, the two had seemingly met before.

"Of course," You hummed, descending the ramp so you could safely hand the Child over.

You watched as she hummed and fawned over the baby while you felt the Mandalorian's unnerving presence looming over your shoulder. His broad shadow that was cast across the dusty ground showed his arms folded over his armored chest.

"We stopped by hoping you could provide us some information-" 

"You never just want to come to visit me, there always has to be something in it for you." Peli huffed.

You quietly analyzed the relationship between the two. Lucky for you they weren't old flames, but they were close with one another. Why didn't Mando and you joke like this? How much longer were you going to have to sit next to him in the co-pilot's seat in deafening silence? You decided that if you got a moment alone with Peli, you'd ask how the two of them got so close. Maybe she'd be able to help you.

"What do you know about Mos Pelgo?" The bounty hunter asked, earning a puzzled expression from the older woman.

"Destroyed in battle." She bluntly replied, bouncing the baby up and down in her arms. 

"No, that's not right." The Mandalorian mumbled.

"Koresh said Mos Pelgo, right?" He turned toward you for support.

"If I recall correctly, yes." You said, now equally puzzled.

Now you worried that your run-in with the gangster Gor Koresh had been for nothing. What if the three of you almost died all for a dead end?

"R5," Peli called, summoning forth a rusted red and white droid.

"Pull up a map of Tatooine for me, will you?"

The droid hummed and whirred as it went to work at an achingly slow pace. 

"Can you go any faster you useless pile of bolts?" She groaned. 

Before the four of you appeared a flickering hologram of a map of Tatooine. 

"Now, can you find me Mos Pelgo?"

The droid let out another series of beeps before getting to work again, slightly faster this time.

"I don't see it." Mando frustrated announced as you stared at the blank spot on the map.

"Mos Pelgo was turned to dust, I'm not sure if you'll find what you're looking for there," Peli explained before looking skeptically towards you and the Mandalorian.

"We still have to try." You said, looking down at the baby in Peli's arms.

"For him."

"What sort of trouble are you two looking for anyway?" 

"A source told me I could find another Mandalorian there. Hopefully, they can lead me to others like the Child."

"And by a source he means gangster." You said under your breath, earning a hearty chuckle from the mechanic.

"At least he has someone with at least a lick of sense around now. I don't know what he thinks he's doing running and being in cahoots with gangsters. He has a responsibility now!" She waved the baby around in Mando's line of sight.

You smiled to yourself, happy to finally have some recognition for all the help you gave to The Mandalorian. If it weren't for you he probably wouldn't be able to keep his head on his shoulders.

"I have a land speeder you two can borrow, but if anything happens to it this time I swear, Mando I will have your-"

"I will bring it back in one piece." The man silenced, already walking towards the speeder.

You looked at the lone bike with dismay. It was going to be awkward to have to share one, especially for that long of a trip.

"I hate to ask for too much, Peli, but do you happen to have a second speeder?" You shyly requested with your hands clasped together in front of you.

"Nope, not since Mando here wrecked the last one." 

"You should be fine, I don't think he bites unless you tick him off." She teased with a wink.

You let out and nervous laugh and took hold of the Child as she handed him over to you. You tenderly put him into his pouch before tying it to the back of the speeder.

The Mandalorian had already boarded the bike and started the engine, it purred and sputtered like a sickly loth cat. Despite the worrying amount of noise the speeder made, you sat down on the back end of the vehicle, making sure to keep your distance from the bounty hunter in front of you.

"You're going to want to get closer than that, sweetheart. Don't need anyone flying off now do we?" Peli joked.

You hesitantly inched forward, wrapping your arms around Mando's waist for extra support. His beskar armor was cool against your skin, a stark contrast to the desert suns that had been beating down on you.

"Are you alright?" He asked, peering over his shoulder at you.

You nodded and forced a smile in reply. When the Mandalorian finally looked away, you caught a glimpse of Peli's smug expression.

"If you two make it back by dinner, we're having bantha!" She shouted over the deafening hum of the speeder.

Your stomach was too knotted to even think of eating.

It was a long and uncomfortable ride to Mos Pelgo. Though you and the Mandalorian weren't having the greatest time, the Child seemed thrilled. He grinned into the wind as his long green ears fluttered behind him. At least someone was content. 

While the child babbled beside you, you spent the trip hoping Mos Pelgo had what you were looking for. You wanted a win for Mando, he'd been trying so hard to find anyone who could help get the Child home, but he was only coming up with loose ends.

"Do you see that?" You shouted, pointing off into the distance at an outline of a town.

Din applied a heavier push to the gas pedal and sent you flying straight for the small village of Mos Pelgo. When he finally got closer he slowed down, noticing that the loud rumble of the engine was attracting unwanted attention. Every resident of the town was stood outside their small hut glaring and covered in soot and ash. That sight was enough to tell you that Mos Pelgo was a mining colony, but what would a Mandalorian want with a mining colony?

"Stop here," You instructed, tapping Din's shoulder as you neared an abandoned-looking cantina.

The speeder came to a steady halt and Din cut the engine, engulfing the three of you in silence. 

"I guess this is a good place to start?" You shrugged as you slipped off the seat and dusted the sand off the front of your overalls.

"We'll find out." The Mandalorian said, a hint of doubt in his steely voice.

You retrieved the Child from the speeder and wore the sack he was stored in across your front. He babbled nonsense at you and then proceeded to point at his mouth, letting you know he was hungry. 

"We'll see if they have anything for you here, okay?" You cooed, scratching the baby's wrinkled head.

The Mandalorian led the way into the cantina, up three creaking wooden steps, and through a set of swinging doors that hadn't had their hinges oiled in far too long. The interior of the bar looked just as dead as the rest of Mos Pelgo. Everything was covered in a thick layer of dust and sand and the furniture was tattered and worn. Not to mention that the floorboards moaned beneath you as if they would give out at any moment.

"Hello? Is anyone here?" You called out, keeping close to Mando.

A door in one of the far back and dark corners of the bar swung open and a large and burly creature sauntered out.

"Can I help you, folks?" He asked as he saddled up behind the bar.

"We have a few questions for you actually, but first, do you have any bone broth for the little one?" You questioned, giving the man a hopeful smile.

"I do, now what questions do you have for me?"

You looked to the Mandalorian while the bartender prepared the broth for the baby, causing the armored man to clear his throat.

"Do you know of any Mandalorians who live here? Anyone who looks like me?"

The man eyed Din as he slid you the broth for the Child. Both you and your partner held your breath and hoped for an even slightly helpful answer.

"You must be thinking of the Marshal." The bartender replied as you shifted through your sack looking for credits.

"You've got a little mouth to feed, it's on the house." He added with a dismissing wave of his hand.

Before you could thank him for his kindness, Din shot another question.

"Your marshal wears Mandalorian armor?" 

You resisted the urge to smack Din on the arm. He never slowed down to just be thankful, he never really thought. This is normally where trouble began.

The creaking cantina doors that you had entered through earlier groaned open once again as a great beam of sunlight filled the room and illuminated the dust that floated through the hot, thick air.

"Well speak of the devil," The barman spoke before raising his hand to give a blunt salute.

You and Din both pivoted around to face the man who had sauntered into the bar, clad head to toe in battered Mandalorian armor. He sat down in a wooden chair, back slouched and knees spread like he owned the place. He radiated the energy of someone important and for a moment you thought that maybe the ghost town of Mos Pelgo wasn't a dead end after all. That was until the Marshal did something shocking. You watched out of the corner of your eye as Din's hand settled upon the blaster holstered to his thigh, but you used your free hand to push it away.

The Marshal had removed his helmet and it was sat on the table, tinted visor glinting in the sunlight. 

"Take it off," The bounty hunter said bluntly, still grasping his weapon even after you attempted to push him away.

"Or I will." 

With your eyes wide as saucers, you quickly sat the Child down out of harm's way and stood yourself between the two men. You wouldn't let Din be this reckless and kill off your only lead. The two of you had been searching far and wide for another Mandalorian for far too long. Yes, this man wasn't exactly a Mandalorian, but for now, he was all you had.

"Mando, don't." You ordered, looking into the darkness of his helmet and estimating where his eyes might lay.

You hated having to do this, to restrain him from protecting his culture. It was unfair that this Marshal could walk around as he did without facing the persecution Din faced and without devoting his life to Mandalorian culture. 

As you stood between the two men who now had their weapons drawn you thought of all the things you'd seen the bounty hunter go through, all because of his faith. The endless names and taunting, the rowdy bar fights that ended in dented beskar and bloodied knuckles. You wanted him to be able to let it all out, but you couldn't sacrifice this.

"Please don't fight." You said shakily, looking to your left at the Marshal.

The man's eyes were narrowed and strands of silver hair hung over his forehead. He was brazen and handsome as he awaited the Mandalorian's next move. The Marshal bit his cheek and followed your orders, lowering his blaster to his side.

"Drop it," You said, pointing your eyes down to the dirty floor below you.

"Please."

The Marshal raised his hands in defeat as he crouched down to the ground and carefully sat down his weapon. You kept your eyes locked on him as he rose back up with a cocky, lopsided grin.

"You aren't excluded from this, Mando." You huffed, not even having to look over your shoulder to know that Din still had his weapon raised.

Even through his modulator, you heard his quiet grunt of annoyance as he discarded his blaster.

"We don't want any trouble, sir-" You began before the Marshal outstretched his hand to you. 

"It's no problem at all, young lady." He said before taking your hand into a firm grip.

You meekly shook back and blushed furiously when he lifted your hand to his mouth and planted a kiss. Before you could get too stuck on wondering where the hell you were, the Marshal provided a formal introduction.

"I'm Cobb Vanth, the Marshal of this little town you've found yourselves at."

You gave him a nervous smile and gestured towards yourself.

"I'm Y/N and that's Mando." You said, remembering not giving away the bounty hunter's real name.

"And who's that little fella?" Vanth questioned, pointing towards the Child who was peering at him from his carrier.

"He doesn't have a name," Din answered, moving forward to stand beside you like an overprotective shadow.

"He's actually why we're here." You added before giving a kind wave to the baby to let him know you hadn't forgotten about him. He was getting to the age where he required lots of attention and would get quite fussy if you didn't play with him or hold him often.

"Well, I hate to interrupt you darlin', but I have to ask your friend here what all the fuss is with my armor?" The Marshal asked, his arms now inquisitively folded across his chest.

"The armor your wearing is Mandalorian. You're not supposed to wear it if you're not part of the creed." Mando explained.

You could tell he was trying his best to remain calm.

"How do you know I'm not part of the creed?" Vanth prodded, quirking a dark brow.

"Mandalorians never remove their helmets in front of anyone."

The cantina was covered in the blanket of a heavy and uncomfortable hush. You could tell that beneath the Marshal's tough exterior, he truly did feel guilty.

Before he could reply to Din, a faint rumble sounded off in the distance. You and the Mandalorian exchanged puzzled glances before the entire room began to shake. Bottles behind the bar began to fall off the shelf and shatter as you ran to fetch the Child who was cowering in the corner.

"What the hell is that?" You shouted, looking to the Marshal for an answer.

He motioned for you and Din to follow him outside and wearily you did so. The residents of Mos Pelgo were rushing to get inside and salvage whatever they could as a massive lump beneath the sand came rushing toward the village. You held the baby closer to your chest as the mass beneath the ground burst out and reared it's scaly head before it swallowed an unsuspecting bantha whole.

All fell quiet once the creature burrowed deeper into the ground and sped away, leaving destruction in its wake.

"Care to tell us what that was?" Mando said, not a hint of fear in his voice.

"Krayt dragon," Vanth replied nonchalantly, obviously this wasn't a once in a lifetime occurrence.

"And I tell you what, Mando; if you can help me get rid of that damn thing, I'll give you my armor."

The Marshal stood with one hand on his hip and the other outstretched, waiting for the Mandalorian's grasp.

"Do we have a deal?" 

"Deal," Din said, firmly shaking the other man's hand.

It seemed now that asking Vanth about the Child had become an afterthought and you did not agree to fight a massive monster who could swallow farm animals whole.

The Marshal offered you and the Mandalorian a place to stay for the night, but first, the three of you would devise a plan on how to deal with the dragon. 

You were back in the Cantina which now brimmed with customers. Though you were squared away in a booth in the back corner, you could still feel the wary stares of the locals burning into the nape of your neck. You just kept feeding the baby and minding your own business, hoping they'd all just leave you alone.

"Are you alright?" Din asked, noticing your anxious demeanor.

"I'm fine. I can just tell not everyone is as welcoming as the Marshal." You replied as you spooned more broth into the Child's mouth.

"I'm sure a few stories of how you pulled a blaster on their leader have already gotten around."

"I'm sorry, I wasn't thinking." He apologized, quietly watching you care for the baby.

"You rarely ever do." You teased, nudging his leg beneath the table.

"Sorry you two, duty called." Vanth huffed as he settled into the booth beside you.

You tensed up as your bare shoulder brushed against his own and his knee pushed into your thigh. 

"Are we ready to talk business, or are we thinking drinks first? I could really use something to take the edge off."

"We don't really do that sort of thing." You explained, trying your best to kindly decline.

"I have a backroom Mando can use," The Marshal continued to offer.

Din declined and the Marshal knew better than to push him any further. Now you were the only one left to persuade.

"Come on, live a little Miss Y/N!"

You looked to Din for reassurance to which he outstretched his arms to take the baby.

"Alright, I guess," You said before following an enthusiastic Vanth over to the bar.

The Marshal signaled to the bartender for two drinks as the two of you saddled up onto your stools. You looked nervously down at the tabled below you, counting every scratch in the wood.

"I hate to pry, but what exactly is the relationship between you and the Mandalorian?" Vanth asked.

"I help take care of the Child and in return, he gives me a place to stay. He got me out of a pretty nasty situation." You said in reply, choosing to keep some parts of your story a secret.

"I guess you could say he saved me, but it's nothing more than a business relationship if that's what you're asking."

The Marshal chuckled at your answer as he slid you your drink.

"It sounds like you're quite fond of him if you ask me." He teased, a handsome smile plastered on his bearded face.

"No, it's not like that." 

Instead of you sounding carefree, your voice was solemn and soft. It was a weak try at trying to convince the Marshal that you weren't in love with your partner, but it would have to do.

You sheepishly looked down at the short glass of electric blue liquid before you and hoped it wouldn't hit you like a sack of bricks.

"On the count of three-" He began before you stopped him.

"Wait!" You laughed, a nervous blush spreading across your face. 

"We don't have all night, darlin'." Vanth hummed, grinning when you finally got past your nerves and picked up your glass.

On three you tipped back your head and swallowed the bitter liquid. You held back a gag and wrinkled your nose as Vanth stared back at you unfazed.

"Good girl," He praised, giving an unexpected but not unwanted squeeze to your thigh.

Everyone was really staring at you now. You weren't just a stranger who wandered into town anymore, you were the girl on the Marshal's hip.

One shot soon turned into one too many and Vanth brought you back to the booth with you clinging onto his arm like a giggly mess.

"Alright, let's get to work, shall we?" Vanth said once he got you settled into the booth.

"Hi, Din." You giggled, smiling at him while the Marshal spread his plan across the table.

"How much did you drink, Y/N?" The bounty hunter asked, his voice oozing a disapproving tone.

"I have no idea," You slurred, jerking your head in the direction of the silver-haired man beside you.

"However much he gave me."

The heavily armored man let out a sigh, but the baby in his arms had the entire opposite reaction to your state. The Child found how drunk you were to be amusing.

"Sorry, I didn't expect her to react like this." Vanth sincerely replied as he fixed your disheveled hair.

"Are you gonna be okay, sweetheart?" He asked, brushing your disheveled hair away from your face.

You simply nodded in reply, not a care in the world. You hadn't felt this stress-free in a while and you were going to enjoy it while it lasted.

The crowd inside the cantina began to dwindle as it grew later in the night. The clientele within it would have to wake up with the sun, so staying out all night was not something the people of Mos Pelgo did often.

The Child had begun to drift off in your arms as you looked down at him contently despite your drunken stupor. Your blurred vision made him look more like a painting on a canvas rather than a real-life child.

"Well, I think we're about done here." Vanth said, looking down at the scroll of paper on the table with an expression of satisfaction.

"I should get these two to bed. We'll meet back up tomorrow." Din replied before inching his way out of the booth.

"Come on, Y/N."

The Marshal assisted you out of the booth in his usual gentlemanly manner.

"Thank you for the drinks," You slurred, pouting as the Mandalorian removed the baby from your grasp.

"I-I'll see you tomorrow?" 

Din now had a firm but gentle grasp on your wrist as he tugged you towards the exit.

"Yes ma'am, I'll have a hangover cure waiting," Cobb replied with a lopsided grin.

"Hangover?" You worriedly muttered as the Mandalorian tugged you out the swinging cantina doors.

You followed an arm's length behind Din as he led you back to your shelter for the night. If you were sober you would have easily kept up, but it felt as if you had weights strapped to your boots and the sands of Tatooine weren't aiding you in any way.

"Keep up, it's dark out. I don't want to be out here if that dragon comes back." The Mandalorian muttered, his voice a humming metallic whir in the quiet desert air.

When you finally made it to the small hut, you staggered through the door and fell heavily down onto your cot. You laid in the dark and stared up at the ceiling as Din put the Child to bed and lit a few candles to light up the darkness of the room.

"You weren't like yourself tonight." He said quietly, his broad back turned to you as he fussed with lighting another candle.

"What?" You grunted, holding yourself upright in bed by your elbows. 

"The way you acted today was unlike you. Honestly, it was irresponsible."

The gears in your brain turned as you strung together every word of his sentence into something coherent to your drunken mind. 

"What do you mean unlike me?" You scoffed, now sitting upright with your legs folded beneath you.

"You're acting like you know me."

"Of course I know you, Y/N. I've been carting you across the galaxy for months now." The Mandalorian replied, turning to face you now that he had finished his battle with the lamp.

"Exactly! We've been stuck in your hunk of junk traveling through space for so long and you haven't even tried to get to know me." You shot back, your voice raising itself an octave. 

The combination of the alcohol and your now unbottled emotions made you feel hot and sickly. It was the kind of discomfort where out of the blue your clothes felt like they were going to swallow you whole or your boots felt like they were laced too tight. You were a ticking time bomb and everything was bound to set you off.

"So what? You think the Marshal knows you better?" 

"That's what this is about? You're jealous?" You snapped, your jaw practically hanging to the floor out of shock. 

The tension in the room was thick enough to cut with a knife as the bounty hunter hovered above your cot. You could feel his glare, even if it was obscured by his helmet. The liquid courage that was coursing through you urged you to challenge him further, but deep down you knew that you might as well be playing with fire. 

"Go to bed. It's late and I don't want you waking the Child." He said flatly before extinguishing the lamps he had put on just minutes earlier.

You dramatically fell back onto the bed, the force of your body causing the springs in the mattress to creak beneath you. Scowling up at the ceiling, you counted the wood panels above your head and listened to the quiet thud of the Mandalorian stripping off his boots before crawling into bed. 

If there hadn't already been a rift between you two before, there was now.

You awoke to bright sunlight leaking in through the narrow windows of the hut. In the pool of honeyed sunlight, the Child babbled from within his cradle. To your left, Mando laid in bed, the slow rise and fall of his chest suggesting that he was still asleep. You pondered over how he managed to sleep with all his armor on before remembering the argument the two of you had gotten into the night before. The events leading up to it were foggy, but sadly that had managed to stick with you. This is why you never drank, you weren't fond of having to piece your life back together the next morning. You forced yourself out of bed, trying to ignore the pounding in your head, and walked over to where the baby was.

"Good morning, little one." You hummed.

The Child beamed back up at you with wide, dark eyes and your heart fluttered at his admiring gaze. He was only a baby of course, but his kindness was enough to mend your wounds from the night before.

Behind you, the Mandalorian stirred in his bed. 

"Hello," You heard him mutter sleepily.

"Did the Child wake you?"

"No, it was that damn sun." You replied, squinting into the light.

You were much more used to the darkness of your quarters in the Razorcrest. Some curtains in the hut would've been favorable. It probably would've made the space a little more welcoming too. You hadn't noticed it in the pitch dark of the night before, but the room itself was quite sad. You were stood upon dirt floors and surrounded by blank, beige walls.

"Listen, I'm sorry about-"

You didn't know if now was the right time to apologize, but maybe there would never be a 'right time'. 

"Don't apologize. I shouldn't have acted the way I did. You were drunk and all I did was provoke you. I should be the sorry one." Mando cut you off, now stood behind you with a gloved hand awkwardly placed on your shoulder as the two of you hovered over the Child.

"I guess we should go find the Marshal. He's probably waiting for us." You said, looking over your shoulder at the masked man behind you.

You had placed a band-aid on the situation, now it was time to carry on. More important things hung in the balance than you having butterflies for the faceless bounty hunter you shadowed behind.

You had a dragon to kill.

let me know what you think of this first part! also let me know if you would like to be tagged in the second part so you are alerted when it comes out. thank you so much for reading! <3

[scatterpatter]

So guess who stayed up to finish these and didnt have the patience to wait until tomorrow to post!!!

Some designs for the Smithy Gang for Weapon Fam AU: An smrpg au where Geno is Smithy’s son, leaving him a strange half-Weapon half-Star hybrid... and also leaves him as half-siblings with the entire Smithy Gang because Yes Smithy Adopted Them All, Fight Me

I infodump about their designs versus canon under the cut because they were really fun!!!

Yaridovich!

Yari is the oldest of the siblings, and I really wanted to convey “strict older bro” vibes. In canon Yari’s probably the one who intimidated me the most, while most of the other Smithy Gang were Goofballs(which is not a bad thing! It IS a Mario game XD) 

When designing him, my biggest complaint was that it looks like he’s wearing a goddamn diaper, so Stella suggested giving him a kilt instead... AND IT WAS SO GALAXY-BRAINED HOW COULD I SAY NO! I took the kilt look a step further and even added a fly plaid over his shoulder! Straightened the posture, darkened some colors for a more intimidating/sinister look, and tattered up the cape for Drama~ Honestly this one’s my favorite design

Geno!

IM SORRY FANDOM, I JUST- I KNOW ITS A JOKE THAT HE DOESNT WEAR CLOTHES BUT I JUST- I JUST WANTED TO GIVE HIM AN OUTFIT ;_; I really wanted to give him something casual but practical: you know something to go adventuring in. You’ll tear space-cape from my cold dead hands. Also some extra curls sticking out because why not! 

Growing up with the Smithy Gang, Geno would obvi have a different palette of clothing to more match them, but when turning “traitor” to help save Star Road, he’d don a more star-like look to get everyone in the Mushroom Kingdom to trust him more

Bowyer!

OUGH. This one gave me the most hell- WHAT IS THAT CANON DESIGN???? The biggest things I kept in mind while coloring was: 1- I wanted more metallic pieces so that he fit the look of the Weapons more and didn’t stick out as much, and 2- wanted to give him more of an archer look- hence the quiver and bracers!

Made his tail more tail-like, de-saturated the colors to something a little more forest-fitting and les eye-straining, smoothed out a lot of the... whatever bumpiness is going on in the original design... went with more a Sonic look for his mouth/cheeks/whatever that hell is supposed to be. Oh! Nearly forgot! Pulled the classic “their eyes are one color in the art, and another color in the game, so I guess they’re heterochromatic now”

This one’s still up to change, I’m not as happy with this as I am with, say, Yari, but I still like what I came up with so far!

The Axems!

I only drew Red cuz I’m lazy- the rest look about the same, just with slightly different body types like in canon and their respective colors. My biggest beef with the Axems was that they’re clearly supposed to be teenagers(like cuz of the Power Rangers ripoff), but in the game they look like toddlers and... honestly it’s hard to take them seriously XD

So one day when thinking of designs, I thought to a character in FNaF called Lolzhax, who looks roughly like this. I thought to myself “Hey, what if the Axems had a Lolzhax-type of body type?” And I doodled it and... Lo and behind, I think it really works! Also slightly inspired by Axem Rangers X from SMBZ, of course. I wanted them to have that ARX look while still looking something relatively close to canon XD

Green comes to nearly Bowyer’s height, Pink is a little taller than Red, Black is about Geno’s height, and Yellow’s somewhere between Geno and Mack, def closer to Geno in height tho

Mack!

The baby of the sibs! This one I admittedly deviated the most from canon design with, but... I like this design, sue me! I wanted something less “a devil in a red bodysuit and green shoes” and more “a rogue machine who actually looks like he’d use knives”. Darkened the palette to reflect the “rogue” goals, and like Bowyer, added a few more mech-ish points to fit the overall group look of “yes we’re weapons not organics”

... I really hope you guys like them, I just really like this au a lot and could make a whole powerpoint on the story potentials itd open up and- >~<

[ratedbangtann]

Picture Perfect || KTH

As a plus size model, you're used to your fair share of ignorance and shaming. By now, it's water off a duck's back; you're a strong woman, hardened to it. But then there were those on the other end of the scale, who simply adored you and your body. Much like photographer, Kim Taehyung...

Pairing: Kim Taehyung x Plus Size Reader (but please feel free to enjoy if you aren’t!) Word count: 7.8k Warnings: Fatphobia, derogatory terms, rude assholes, shy Tae (at first), slight manipulation (but opportunity to back out), taeconda, oral sex (m receiving), light spanking, BBW fetishizing, vaginal fingering, unprotected sex

A/N: Welcome to another plus size reader fic! If you don’t consider yourself to be plus size, don’t worry - feel free to enjoy it anyway! 

***************************************

“You’re joking, right?” the ignorant voice of the photographer bellowed through the studio. You stood with your arms folded over your chest, pissed off at the vile and sleazy guy in front of you. Your agent beside you positively seething too. She had got you this gig, and the brand owners were more than happy to have you involved. And yet this prick…

“Problem, Mr. Carter?” she asked, eyebrow raised.

“Yes, as a matter of fact. This is a lingerie shoot,” he said, incredulous as if his point were obvious.

“Yes, it is,” she stated, clearly impatient.

“I’m not photographing… her in lingerie,” he looked toward you in disgust, nose scrunched and forehead creasing all the way up to his non-existent hairline.

“Got a problem with me, have you?” you piped up. Already today you had had your hair and make-up done, and you were in your first set under your bathrobe ready for the shoot. And now, this asshole was refusing to photograph you as if it were his shoot?

“Yeah, as a matter of fact. Don’t particularly wanna see some fat chick in a thong.”

Oh, how your blood boiled.

“Mr. Carter, is something the matter?” A gentleman you recognised to be the lingerie company’s co-CEO wandered over, with his business partner in tow. From what you could gather, they were a married couple; Cynthia designed the lines whilst Carlisle handled the business. They were a great team, and rapidly becoming some of the biggest names in the lingerie business.

“Sir, I’m sorry but I’m not photographing this. You must have a more attractive model…”

You’d dealt with pricks like this through your entire career; assholes who wrinkled their nose in disgust at your curves, your beautiful jiggly bits, your stretch marks, cellulite… You’d had to deal with being photoshopped to within an inch of your life and cut out of group shots completely. You’d been turned down for editorial spreads and commercials alike since day one. You’d grown a thick skin to it but it still pissed you off when someone was just as rude to you as this dickhead.

You loved your body, were proud of it. Sure, you were plus size. You weren’t skinny and slim or even simply just “thicc” but you were beautiful, and you’d made quite the name for yourself in the modelling world.

“I don’t see anything unattractive about Ms. _____,” Carlisle looked you up and down, turning back to Mr. Carter; Robert, you thought you heard someone say.

“I’m not photographing a fat girl!” he almost yelled, his fragile masculinity in tatters confronted by three women and a very in-tune and open minded man. You half expected him to stomp his foot like a child having a tantrum.

“Well then we’ll just have to find somebody who will, won’t we?” Carlisle smiled a sickly sweet smile at Robert. The kind that could rot your teeth.

“What do you mean?” he asked, his face turning red with rage.

“You’re fired, Mr. Carter. I suggest an attitude adjustment if you’d ever like to work in this town again,” Carlisle remained calm, gesturing to the door. The livid little man stormed out of the room, grabbing his kit along the way and slamming the door to the studio behind him, the few members of staff scattered around watching on in silence. “I’m so sorry about him. Ms. _____,” he turned to you, apologetic smile on his handsome face.

“That’s quite alright, he’s not my first ignorant asshole,” you smiled back.

“Shit, where the hell are we going to find a photographer at such short notice? _____ is already made up, we only rented the studio for the day and we could-“ Cynthia was panicking, rambling with her hands flinging about through the air as she paced back and forth.

“Honey, honey, relax… Let me make some calls. I know this guy, an old friend of mine. I’m sure he’s in town. Give me ten minutes,” he steadied her movements with his large hand on her shoulder, pressing a kiss to her forehead as she took a deep breath. How cute.

Carlisle left the room, phone pressed to his ear as he tried to get hold of whoever he knew. Cynthia turned to you, then.

“I really am sorry for that guy… If I’d have known he was like that I wouldn’t have hired him,” she scratched the back of her neck.

“Don’t worry about it, Cynthia, I’ve had a lot worse. Right, Mia?” Your agent beside you nodded with an unsatisfactory grimace on her face, recalling the amount of times she’d had to find you other shoots after being cast aside.

“90 percent the male specimen, of course,” she grumbled. Ah, Mia; her opinions were nothing if not colourful. Cynthia chuckled though, nodding in understanding.

“Well we’re honoured to have you model for us, ____. The new line is inclusive of all sizes and shapes, some to accentuate parts of the body whilst others to help discourage insecurities. We could think of no one better to showcase our hard work,” she smiled so brightly, genuinely excited to have you on board.

“Thank you, it’s a pleasure! The sets are stunning, I’ve been a fan of your brand for a long time now.” The three of you stood chatting away for a little while, now with nothing to do until a photographer could be found.

“Honey, he’s on his way,” Carlisle stepped into the room with a smirk on his face. “I told you I could handle it.”

“And this is why I married you,” she laughs, pecking his lips as he wrapped his arms around her waist. Oh, how sweet… If only you had the time to find yourself a kind and affectionate man like that. Alas, your career didn’t allow time for much of a social life.

“He’s the other side of town so it could still be a little while, but what do you say we get some drinks from the Starbucks across the street and some lunch in the meantime?” Carlisle suggested. Well, that was one way to kill some time…

*****

“Ah, Taehyung! How are you, man?” Carlisle’s voice was loud and boisterous as he chewed on his muffin, standing up to greet whoever had just walked into the studio. You turned to look, but Carlisle was a tall and broad man, covering most of the photographer’s frame.

“Doing well, Carl, how are you?” He sounded excited, like he was happy to see his friend once again.

“Yeah, pretty good! Have you met the wife yet?”

“Can’t say I have…”

“Ah, you must. Come on over… Cynthia!” he called to her, her head perking up from the table and chairs you were sat at covered in Starbucks wrappers. “Taehyung, this is my wonderful wife and designer of all our products; Cynthia Blake.”

Carlisle had shown the young photographer over to your table, now standing at the head and looking down at Cynthia, who stood up to shake Taehyung’s hand. He seemed a relatively shy looking man, camera bag slung over his back, black beret in place on his head. His hair curled out from underneath it in wild tendrils, framing his golden face.

He looked more like he’d be interested in artistic photography of scenery and still-life objects, judging by his clothing. Wide-leg cream pants, a black plain t-shirt and a brown suede waistcoat didn’t quite scream fashion photography, but you’d learned not to judge someone so soon in your years in modelling.

“Kim Taehyung, miss. Pleased to meet you, finally. Carlisle has told me a lot about you,” he bowed his head as he shook her hand. And then he was being introduced to Mia and yourself.

“…and this is ____, our model for the day,” Cynthia proudly showed you off to him, still sat in your bathrobe with full hair and make-up.

Your eyes met, and suddenly you could see his face so much clearer. Those beautiful big round eyes, that’s you could now see were slightly different in shape; one double lid, one mono-lid. His jawline that curved delicately and sharpened at his chin, 5 o’clock shadow evident. The freckles that landed on the end of his nose and in the waterline of his eyes; gentle little beauty marks…

You hadn’t noticed his eyes widen. It was almost like recognition, like he knew you from a past life. But he kept his composure and mumbled a shy hello, quieter than when he’d greeted Cynthia.

“Hi, Taehyung was it?” you shook his hand, noting the long fingers adorned in many rings and just how soft his palm was in yours. You tried to shake the feeling of attraction that was bubbling away inside you but it was difficult; you weren’t sure you had ever seen a man so devastatingly handsome.

“Y-yeah… pleasure to meet you. You look… stunning,” he chuckled nervously and turned back to Carlisle. “I’ll just need a few minutes to set up and we can get started.”

“Yeah, take your time, Tae,” he grinned, showing him over to the backdrops and light fixtures.

“He likes you,” Mia nudged your side, wiggling her eyebrows.

“Oh, shut up, he’s just shy…”

“______, he basically undressed you with his eyes! You saw it too, right Cynthia?” she turned for backup. Cynthia sat back down with a smile on her face.

“Oh, I saw it.”

“How professional of you both,” you teased, shaking your head with laughter. “I’m going to ask make up to do a touch up. I think lunch may have ruined my lips.”

Ignoring their little jeers and smug comments, you headed off to the little room to the left, filled with the garments you would be modelling throughout the day and a little dresser for the make-up artist to work her magic on you.

*****

“Alright, _____ if I could have you sat on the stool in the middle there… perfect. Cynthia, what are we achieving with this set?” Taehyung asked, wanting to know how he should ask you to convey the white lingerie with pretty white fluffy parts dangling from various places.

“Innocence and purity. The set itself is called ‘purity’, so something like that?” she gave her directions, and you worked your magic.

Now that you had taken off your robe and were parading around in the flattering white set, you felt your confidence sky-rocketing as it always did during a shoot. Nothing made you feel more powerful than having all eyes on you; especially in some of the prettiest and most body-friendly lingerie you had ever seen.

“Beautiful,” Taehyung commented, crouching down to get the perfect shots and play around with the lighting a little. Cynthia and Carlisle stood to the side, watching each photo pop up on the laptop set up. “It’s nice to work with a professional, you seem to need very little direction,” he complimented.

“She’s been in this game long enough,” Mia answered for you, you staying completely composed as he snapped away, flash dazzling.

“If you could just stand up for me, we’ll get rid of the stool there to get a few more shots of the lingerie itself.” Taehyung fiddled with some settings on his camera, while a staff member removed the stool from the shot. “Fantastic, if you could face the camera for a few, and then turn, we’ll get every angle.”

It was amazing, really; Taehyung staying as professional as composed as he was. Because Mia and Cynthia had been right. He was into you, very much so. The second he saw you, he thought you were the most beautiful creature on God’s green earth. Watching you pose so innocently and with absolute picturesque tranquillity in the most beautiful underwear he could imagine was affecting him more than the artist inside him would like to admit.

He’d done hundreds of shoots over the years, including nude and lingerie shoots and never, ever had he had such a problem focussing as he did today. But then, none of those shoots were of you.

“Tae, I think that’s plenty for Purity. _____, would you mind getting changed again for me, love? The deep green set will look beautiful with your skin tone, I suggest that one next,” Cynthia called to you.

“Ah, Evergreen?” you asked.

“That’s the one!” she clapped excitedly, filled with utter glee seeing her collection finally being tried out on a model. It was all becoming real for her; her second line of lingerie would be hitting the shelves very soon.

You headed back into the little room to change, Evergreen being a little more revealing and sultrier than Purity had been. The bra was a stunning forest green lace with almost a half-corset attached – fantastic support and helped to smooth out insecurities in the back. The briefs were high waisted and made in the same lace, with suspender clips dangling from them. And of course, to match; a stunning set of black suspenders, heels and a mesh black robe to go over the top. Modest, but not modest enough.

When you walked back out, Taehyung audibly gasped. He could feel the heat rising in his cheeks, the blood travelling south. He averted his gaze, willing himself to calm down. Mia giggled to herself; aw, bless him, she thought.

“I knew it would look beautiful against your skin tone!” Cynthia clapped.

“Um, okay… can we have the stool back please, backdrop change, the ivy to drape over the back. _____, if you wouldn’t mind heading back over to the set and taking a seat,” Taehyung didn’t properly look up at you, giving you general directions and pretending to fiddle with his camera. And now you started to see it…

He was nervous.

The staff draped the ivy artistically over the backdrop, letting it hang down behind you to fit in with the evergreen vibe. You sat back down, getting into a slightly different position than before.

“What kind of look are we going for this time, Cyn?” you asked. This wasn’t going to be another innocent look.

“Um, more like a wood nymph, at one with nature, a little temptress perhaps?” she asked, whilst a hair stylist faffed with fitting little daisies into your hair.

Again, you did as instructed; dark, sultry eyes stared into the camera, as if tempting a human into the forest. You looked absolutely delectable, and it was causing huge issues for poor Taehyung. Well, one particularly huge issue. Thankfully for him, the way he crouched to take your photo hid it well. But it made life so much more difficult.

Mentally, he was cursing himself. What the hell was wrong with him? He’d worked with hundreds of models. Why were you the only one he’d ever…

In fact, for the rest of the shoot, the poor guy struggled. Each new set of lingerie posed new challenges, showing off your gorgeous body in new and different ways with different expressions and stories to accompany each one.

“Beautiful, truly! Wow. These photos will look stunning on the website!” Cynthia was positively beaming by the end. “That’s a wrap!”

Taehyung breathed a sigh of relief as he knelt down to start taking his camera apart, slotting the bits and pieces into each compartment of his bag. You simply stepped off the set, heading over to the laptop to flick through the photos.

Mia, however, was being her devious self. She had seen the photos, knew they were stunning. But she had also seen Taehyung’s reactions to each set, each pose. She knew about his big problem, and found it oh, so amusing to meddle.

“Taehyung, may I have a moment of your time?” she asked him, standing over him with a large smile on her face. Taehyung swallowed hard and nodded, standing upright to follow her over to the table at the back of the room where you’d earlier been sat drinking your Starbucks.

“I wondered if I may ask what kind of work you usually do? I know this was a favour for a friend of ours, but what is your style?” she asked him, pulling a chair for him to sit opposite her.

“Usually editorial fashion shoots, a lot of scenery and travel in my spare time though,” he smiled sweetly, a little more comfortable now that he no longer had his problem nor did he have to focus on you and your beautiful curves, the stunning lingerie, thinking of what he would do given the chance…

No, Tae. You’re drifting again. Focus, he told himself.

“I see, it’s just… _____ has been looking for just the right photographer to do some nude shots. Tasteful of course, we’re not talking playboy but…”

Tae’s blood ran cold. The flush in his cheeks must have drained, skin paling at the thought. Mia was still talking, but he could barely listen.

“I mean she’s been wanting to focus on a body positivity campaign for a while, but she hasn’t quite figured out who to trust to photograph her in just the right way, do you know what I mean?”

Tae cleared his throat, bringing himself back down to reality. “Uh yeah, sure…”

“Your shots today were stunning and I’m sure she agrees. I was thinking perhaps you could give those photos a go? You can be as artistic or as simple as you like with them, but I trust your judgement. Googled you to check out your other work too. Impressive, truly.” Mia was rambling on, but Tae could hardly take in a word of what she was saying.

“Th-thank you…” he mumbled, forcing a smile.

“So... are you interested?” she asked, “we can draw up a contract quite easily, _____ is very easy to work with.”

“S-sure… Yeah, okay. Sounds great,” he agreed, all whilst his head was screaming at him for being a moron. If he couldn’t control his damn hard on today, how on earth would he cope with full nudity? You were utterly bewitching. This couldn’t end well, surely?

“Fantastic! I’ve got some calls to make, would you mind letting her know you’re up for it?” she asked, pulling her phone from her back pocket and already standing up and sauntering out of the door to make her calls in the hall. Tae didn’t have a chance to object.

So instead, he got up to find you. You were no longer working your way through the photos, and the majority of the set had been cleared away. You were nowhere to be seen.

“Carlisle, where did _____ go?” he asked the couple who were packing things into cases.

“Oh, she’s in the back room, probably packing her things away, changing. Do you need something?” he asked.

“Her agent said she wanted another shoot with me, I just wanted a word about it,” he nodded with a tight lipped smile.

“Oh, well just go knock, honey. I’m sure she’d be happy to chat,” Cynthia smiled motioning toward the door you’d walked through only moments ago. With that, she slung a satchel over her shoulder and picked up a case of props and set pieces. “We’re off, we have so much to do. Really thought, Taehyung, thank you so, so much for helping out today.”

“Yeah, thanks man. Such short notice too, you really did us a favour. The photos are beautiful. I’ll drop your cheque over to wherever you’re staying, just text me the address. I’m sorry we can’t hang out this evening. You free Thursday?” Carlisle was busy picking up cases and trunks and bags to leave with as he spoke, but Tae knew just how genuine he was about meeting.

“Yeah, Thursday evening would be great, perhaps dinner if you’re both available?” he smiled sweetly.

“Absolutely, we’ll be in touch! Thanks so much, Tae! Bloody life saver,” Carlisle patted his back, scurrying out of the studio along with his wife and the rest of the staff that were left behind.

For a moment, Tae stood in the silence, letting himself breathe deep. He was readying himself to talk to you, to approach you after he’d spent nearly four hours photographing you in skimpy and gorgeous outfits. Christ, how was he ever going to do a nude photoshoot for you?

Professionalism. That’s all it took.

He sauntered over to the door you were hidden behind and knocked perhaps a little heavier than intended. He heard something clatter inside and a quiet “shit” as if you’d dropped something.

“Yep, come in!” you called when you’d picked the rail up. Thankfully you’d already packed the lingerie into a small case on the floor – freebies from Cynthia as extra payment – so it was just the empty rail that had tipped. The door clicked open and shut again and you turned, expecting to see Mia.

“Oh, sorry… I assumed you were dressed. I’ll come back,” Taehyung’s deep voice sounded so shocked to see you still in the lingerie set from the last photos; a pretty deep purple set; high waisted purple mesh thong with white daisies dotted all over and a pretty bralette with surprising support to match. Cynthia had called it Asters, a type of purple daisy to combine the two elements together.

“Wait, it’s fine. I mean, I’ve been wearing… not much else all afternoon,” you chuckled, unashamed. Tae couldn’t really argue with that. “Is something wrong?”

“Oh, no, just… well your agent was talking to me, about a shoot you wanted to do. She said I should ask you about it?” he averted his gaze but stayed in the doorway. You were a little too close for his own comfort; the room you were in was no bigger than an average closet, and the dressing table took up most of it, let alone the rail.

“Oh, she did?” you asked, taking a seat on the stool in front of the table. “What shoot?”

He really couldn’t look you in the eye, let alone anywhere else. If his problem arose again, there was no way of hiding it. He did his best to direct his through process to professionalism once again.

“Yeah, some kind of artsy nude shoot, for a body positivity campaign?”

You watched in amusement as he looked everywhere in the tiny room other than at you. This is exactly what Mia had been talking about earlier. Halfway through the shoot, she’d handed you a bottle of water and told you to watch him; he couldn’t look you in the eye. He really was attracted to you. How cute.

The more you looked, the more you had noticed it. He blushed at the slightest eye contact, willing himself to calm the hell down with some deep breaths. And each time sent a tiny little thrill through you, so you played up to you, practically ‘making love to the camera’ as the old industry professionals used to say.

“Oh, that? Hmm, yeah. I don’t know about that anymore…” you lied. You knew exactly what you were doing, leading the horse to water but… would he drink?

“Oh… She said you were really excited about it, I just thought-“

“Yeah I don’t think people would like it. No one wants to see me naked,” you scoffed. Another lie. You had a huge online following who would love the positivity it spread, congratulate you on it, call you a queen and a goddess.

“I-I’m sure that’s not true,” he stuttered, eyes flicking up to meet yours just for a second. He blushed again and you had to do your very best not to giggle.

“I guess I just don’t feel too sexy, lately. Despite this,” you gestured to your attire, his gaze following your hand. Honestly, like a moth to a flame…

He realised what he’d done as his gaze reached your ample thighs and quickly readjusted his view, back up to a very interesting spot on the wall above your head.

“Well, um… I’m sorry you feel like that, you really are sexy,” he mumbled. Bingo.

“Do you think so?” you asked innocently, feigning disbelief.

“Y-yeah… I mean, your photos today came out really, um… beautiful.”

“Well, you’re just a good photographer,” you laughed softly, watching him so carefully.

“Photographers are only as good as their subjects, Miss _____,” he smiled at you then, sweet and unmenacing. This guy was too pure for his own good, surely. “Truthfully, you’re a beautiful woman. You had so much confidence on set today, I had no idea you weren’t feeling it…”

You smiled down at your hands in your lap, purposefully twiddling them before placing your palms flat on your thighs, rubbing them up and down slowly. His eyes followed them, his jaw hanging open just a little as he lost himself in thought.

Thoughts of how soft your thighs might feel under his touch, how goosebumps might raise at the feeling of his rings on the warm flesh. Thoughts of how soft and supple you would feel, how pretty and puffy you might be between them…

“D-do you think I should do the campaign?” you interrupted his train of thought.

“Definitely,” he said with such conviction. He hadn’t meant to; not really. But… here he was. And he stood his ground.

“And you’d be okay with that?” you asked, innocently.

“Of course, I’m interested in making art.” He tried to sound firm, confident but the little quiver of his bottom lip gave him away.

“Making art… with me?” Oh, you were really pushing him now. Was that a hint of seduction he heard in your tone? Or was he imagining things?

“S-sure…” he wavered. “I’d be honoured.” Why did he say that?! He mentally cursed himself.

“Honoured?” you giggled to yourself, “that’s sweet. I’m sure you’re quite the artist.” He shrugged, starting to feel a little claustrophobic in the small room with you, being so close and so pathetically entranced by the smallest things you did.

When you stood up, he practically tumbled backwards, back hitting the door with a thump.

“Oh, shoot… are you okay?” you asked, rushing forward to help him as he groaned at the sudden contact. But that didn’t help the situation at all, sending him into further panic at the now close proximity.

“F-fine, sorry…”

“Taehyung, you look nervous…” you softened your voice, stepping towards him with mostly concern on your face, but just a hint of playfulness. He dare not believe that’s what he saw though.

“I-I…” he stuttered, not knowing what to say and oh god, you were so close to him now. So close he could smell your perfume; something expensive, perhaps Chanel?

“What is it?” you pressed, but he was starting to lose his resolve. He had to say something, surely. Anything… Right now, he just looked like a bumbling moron.

“I-I just, um…”

“Tell me, maybe I can help…”

“Fuck, you just… you turn me on, okay? Fuck,” he cursed, looking away from you to stare into the top corner of the room, feeling ashamed of himself. He was better than this. A professional. What had you reduced him to?

You simply smirked, stepping even closer to him, until your chests were almost touching.

“I can see that…” you whispered, eyes drifting down. Low and behold, there was the outline of a rather big problem. Tae couldn’t even look, knowing exactly what you were referring to and feeling nothing but shame.

“I’m sorry… I’m so sorry I swear I’m more professional than this, I just-“ You pressed a finger to his lips, silencing him and his eyes went wide, looking down at the digit with surprise.

“You turn me on too,” you smirk, biting down on your bottom lip, still painted from the shoot.

“I-I… I do?”

“Oh yes… Wanna know how much?” you asked cheekily, wrapping your fingers around his wrist, slowly guiding his hand but giving him plenty of opportunity to pull away should he want to. But he didn’t want to. Not at all.

You coaxed his fingertips to grade over the mesh of the lingerie, pressing them to your mound where a tiny little patch of wetness had seeped through the cotton lining inside and stained the material in a dewy wetness.

“Oh, shit…” he breathed, finally looking down at where his hand just barely touched you.

“And that’s just the outside,” you taunted, bottom lip pressed between your teeth. He looked down into your eyes for a moment, wondering if he should… But you answered the question for him, before he’d even had a chance to think it.

Hurriedly, you pressed your lips to his, noting immediately how soft they felt against your own and how hesitant they were in that first split second. But in the end his reaction was visceral, softened lips pushing against yours with all the pent up sexual tension he’d been harbouring for hours.

The hand you barely had a grasp on snaked around your waist, pulling you to him and colliding your full and soft body into his. He wanted to feel every inch of you, every part he’d been photographing all day. And you were going to let him.

When you didn’t immediately shove him away from you, he conceded to his own desires, letting himself become completely hazed with lust. He ran his tongue along your bottom lip, testing the waters before he went in to totally devour your mouth. Pressed against him this way, you could feel his body responding. Of course, he was already stiff beneath those cream trousers, but pushing against your thigh you could feel the size of him, mouth watering. You wondered if perhaps he might like to feel just what your mouth could do for him.

Wasting no more time, you pushed the suede waistcoat from his shoulders, slipping it off and throwing it haphazardly over the rail to your left. And not forgetting that adorable beret too, his hair flopping freely in beautiful curls that fell into his hooded eyes. His assault on your lips never faltered, his grip on your waist only loosening to remove the waistcoat.

You pulled barely millimetres away from his lips, hands gripping at his shirt to at least keep his chest pressed to yours as they both heaved with breathlessness.

“Wanna taste you…” you whispered, hot breath fanning over his lips. Your filthy words sent a thrill down his spine, and before he could utter another syllable your hands were dropping to his zipper, pulling it down and popping the button on his trousers. The loose fit fell down high thighs unaided, pooling at his feet to reveal a pair of light grey boxers, his cock straining marvellously against them.

Gently you ghosted your fingertips over his length, earning a shudder and a sharp intake of breath. “Shit,” he whispered, chasing your lips again with a frantic kiss, large hands holding onto your cheeks to stop you from evading him.

You pushed your hand into the waistband, wrapping your fingers around the base of his cock and feeling just how thick he was; your fingers couldn’t meet no matter how much you stretched them.

“_____, are you sure you want this?” he asked, doing his very best not to rut his hips into your hand.

“I’ve never slept with someone I worked with before, but absolutely. You’ve been driving me crazy, Taehyung…” you whined, slowly pumping your hand along his shaft, neglecting his tip. “Do you want me?” As silly question really, given your current state.

“So much,” he groaned, the pleasure of your fist starting to affect him. You giggled mischievously and dropped to your knees, leaving him staring down at you as you pulled his underwear down, freeing his dick with a triumphant bounce. He really was above average, and the idea of swallowing what you could was making you drool.

In no mood to waste time teasing, you enveloped the first few inches in warm wetness, suckling as if he were the sweetest lollipop despite the salty tang of pre-cum. Your tongue swirled around him a few times before lying flat under his shaft so you could lean further forward to take more of his length.

Above you, Tae was stunned into silence, heavy breaths all that wold pass his lips. He watched you like a hawk, terrified that should he look away, you and your wonderful mouth would disappear. His hands braced himself on the door behind him, keeping him upright as pleasure ripped through his body.

You took what you could into his throat before your gag reflex started to show itself, having to still use an entire fist around his base to completely envelope him. Your first twisted and pumped in rhythm with the way your head bobbed on his cock, every so often hollowing your cheeks to create a harsher drag that had him hissing between clenched teeth.

“A-ah, shit…” he cried, his head throwing back against the door with a thud and squeezing his eyes shut. “How are you this, good? Jesus…”

The giggle that his cock muffled sent a new wave of desire flooding through him. He didn’t even know that were possible, but somehow the more time you spent sucking, pumping and sheathing his cock in your mouth and throat, the more his grip on reality loosened and he found himself swimming in arousal.

It didn’t seem fair that he was getting such incredible head whilst you were sat before him, already soaking your panties and being devoid of any stimulation; where were his manners? If he was unable to be a professional right now, he would at least a gentleman.

Begrudgingly, he pushed at your shoulders, hands finding yours that gripped his thighs, nails digging into the flesh. He pulled you back to a standing position and threw himself at you, lips and teeth crashing against your own desperately.

“Hardly fair that I get all the attention here, is it sweat pea?” The pet name was so innocent in any other context, but here and now you heard it very differently. His tone was gravelling and darker than before, shrouded in animalistic need.

“Oh, I don’t mind. You did us a favour today, after all. Think of it as… extra payment?” You grinned, hands gripping the black t-shirt he still wore and eyes scanning the lips millimetres from yours you’d just been attached to.

“No need, love. Carlisle is paying a bonus. You owe me nothing at all.”

“Ah, well in that case perhaps you should just fuck me then, hm? Even the score a little…” you laughed, attaching yourself back to those beautiful lips for another heated kiss. The room around you felt even smaller this way, perhaps because the body heat radiating off the pair of you was making the tiny little room unbearably stuffy.

He pushed you backwards until your butt hit the edge of the dressing table, stool kicked underneath it. Taehyung never retracted his mouth from yours, not even when he started to fiddle with the straps of the bralette and pull them down your arms. With no clasps to undo, he simply pulled the material over your head, letting your stunning breasts free for him to grab with both hands, mouth dipping down to immediately suck at one of your nipples.

“Mmf, Taehyung…” you moaned, breathier than you’d expected but the feeling had stolen your breath away completely. Your past lovers had been so greedy with no real idea what they were doing, frantically attempting to hold as much of your as they could in their hands, but Taehyung had a purpose, like he was far more skilled and perhaps used to the company of a much larger girl. Every swirl of his tongue, every tactful squeeze of your breasts was used almost like a weapon against you.

In such close proximity you could feel his erection against your tummy, pressing against the softness. You wondered if he liked that; the way your extra pounds felt against his still-wet shaft. He seemed to enjoy your body the way it was, rolls and all, so perhaps the feeling of your chub on his aching cock was nothing short of heavenly.

Your suspicions were confirmed when his hips rocked against you, stomach rippling under his movements as he groaned against your nipple, biting down on the hardened nub just a little.

“You like that, huh? Like how my body feels against you?” you teased, stroking the curls out of his eyes with gentility. He just growled in response, sucking harder at your nipple to have you crying out. You took that as a yes. “Tae please… Need more,” you begged, the wetness between your thighs growing increasingly uncomfortable.

Without detaching his lips from your breast, he shoved a hand into your panties, fingers immediately coated in slick as he pressed two to your clit and began to swirl them in circles. Every single move felt calculated, but they couldn’t possibly be, with how fast things were moving and how quickly he responded to you. He must just be insanely skilled or intuitive. You weren’t sure you’d be able to let this man out of sight after today.

He kept up his ministrations for a little while before growing tired of waiting, impatience getting the better of him. His hands were on your waist and flipping you around quickly, forcing you to hold yourself up on your elbows while he made light work of slipping the high-waisted thong from your body.

The sight before him lit a fire in the pit of his stomach, and he couldn’t stop himself from lightly swatting at your exposed ass, marvelling the way it jiggled and bouncing at the slightest touch. For good measure, you wiggled your hips a little, cheeks rippling to the effect.

“Wow…” he sighed, hands roaming over your cheeks and letting one dip between your legs, parting them enough to slip two fingers through your folds and into your entrance. You groaned at the feeling, finally, finally, having something inside you. Sure, you’d prefer his cock, but he had to prep you. He was so large, you had to get used to something before he let himself bury deep inside you. And lord, the rings on his fingers felt heavenly.

“Fuck, you’re so tight…” he whispered, pushing a third finger into you and spreading you open.

“Tae, please. I’m ready, please…” you pleaded, pushing your hips back against his fingers as he curled them inside you. A jolt of electricity shot through your pelvis, forcing you forward again as Taehyung chuckled darkly behind you.

“Where’s that confidence gone, hm? Did you think you were in control?” he jeered, curling his fingers again and making your legs shake with pleasure. “Beg me again. Beg for my cock.”

You didn’t even hesitate.

“Please! Please, I need it. Need your cock, Tae. Please…” You tried to keep your voice down, aware there might still be people outside but only Taehyung knew the only person who hadn’t left yet was Mia. And she was making phone calls outside.

“You sound beautiful when you’re needy, love. But I have to admit, I don’t think I could wait much longer,” he confessed, now lining the tip of his cock with your entrance after pulling his fingers from you. You mewled a pathetic response, interrupted by the satisfying stretch of him pushing into you.

“Oh, my god…” you hummed, his hands gripping the flesh of your hips so tight he could leave bruises. He kept himself composed enough to slowly but surely bottom out, wanting nothing more than to smack his hips against yours. But he was a gentleman, and he would remain thoughtful enough to keep your comfortable.

You felt yourself falling deeper into the throws of bliss as he dragged himself out again slowly, only to push back a little faster and finding a rhythm that felt unbelievably good for both of you. Your spine tingled with elation, every deep thrust hitting just where you needed him to. His skill seemed to transcend not only from foreplay but to fucking you silly too.

“You’ve driven me… mmf… fucking crazy all day,” he muttered, articulated with a particularly hard thrust. In his head, Taehyung was counting his blessings and thanking his lucky stars that he could be balls deep in you right now. Had you never made any kind of move on him, his desires would have merely fizzled out. God bless your confidence.

He leaned over your back a little more, pistoning his hips as you pushed up to meet him, his lips trailing along your shoulder and neck. You couldn’t stop the soft moans escaping your lips, hand coming to rest on the back of his neck, to hold him against you and tangle in the ends of his curls as he kissed along the flesh.

“Every set of lingerie… fuck, it looked so good on you. You’re so beautiful, so fucking beautiful…” he mumbled between kisses, holding your hips still to slap his against you. The sounds filling the tiny room were some of the lewdest you had ever heard, absolutely hypnotic.

Having Taehyung looming over you this way, fucking himself so far into you and sloppily biting and sucking at your shoulder and neck, you could have sworn you were dreaming. It was too perfect, felt too damn good. Never had a man made you orgasm simply with penetration, but you could feel it building, his skill and his size playing huge parts in your undoing.

His thrusts never faltered, never once slowed. He changed his angle a few times, but never ceased his movements. And before long, you were on the brink of falling apart.

“T-Tae… Gonna cum…” you warned, turning your head to look him in the eye over your shoulder.

“Me too, baby… You feel so good, I can’t help it. Cum for me, yeah?” he panted, pushing your hair out of your face and reconnecting his lips to yours in a sultry, slow and passionate make out. You mewled at the contact, letting him invade all of your sense at once and finally, the coil that had been building in your abdomen wound too tight, and you snapped.

Your legs shuddered, your back arched and your loud moans were swallowed whole by his kiss. Pleasure burst through your entire body, every nerve ending lighting up like a firework and detonating at the exact same moment.

Your pussy clenched around him so hard that Tae struggled to keep his rhythm, simply being dragged back in by your walls instead but the fight was inconceivably good, pulling him to the edge too. He frantically chased that high, whimpering against your lips as he continued to kiss you, wanting nothing more than to feel as close to you as he could.

You came back down just in time for his release, able to savour the warmth that filled you as he came. He was sure he had never cum so hard let alone as much; the pair of you were very aware of the way his cock squelched now with each slide while he slowed his hips. You could feel the mix of your arousal and his cum starting to seep from where the two of you were still connected, sliding down your inner thighs.

His hips stopped rolling, and the both of you stayed very still for a moment, catching your breath and coming back to reality. His forehead rest on your shoulder while you held yourself up, turning to press a light kiss to his temple and nuzzle into the soft mop of curls. And then he was chuckling to himself, running his fingers down the length of your arm.

“What’s funny?” you grinned; his laugh was infectious.

“I just… I swear, I’m more professional than this.” You laughed again with him, a blush creeping onto your already flushed face.

“Me too, usually…” you sniggered. He kissed your shoulder again and straightened up, allowing you to turn around and perch on the edge of the dressing table. You fixed your hair out of your eyes while he pulled his underwear and trousers up from where they pooled around his ankles. He looked around the room to find the bathrobe you’d worn earlier that day, draping around your shoulders with care so you could cover yourself.

“I was kind of lying earlier… I do want to do that campaign, I was just-“

“Manipulating me? I figured…” he smirked, slipping back into his waistcoat and picking up his beret.

“Then why did you-?”

“Swept up in the moment, I suppose. And I didn’t actually catch on until your hands were on my dick,” he shrugged, earning a laugh from you. “All I knew was I wanted you, you were in lingerie and getting closer…” He laughed with you, fixing his beret to his head and tucking his curls back into it. A comfortable silence settled over you both, post-coital smiles stretched across your faces.

“So that campaign… Are you interested?” you asked, folding your arms over your covered chest. His face contorted into one of exaggerated thought, his finger tapping at his chin.

“A day with you alone in a studio, creating beautiful art whilst you’re completely nude… Hm, this is a hard decision,” he mocked. You swatted his arm playfully, both laughing together. You liked how comfortable you felt with him, how wide the smile on your face was. It was intriguing; perhaps you could see yourself enjoying his company in future, not just his sexual prowess.

He stepped toward you, wrapping an arm around your waist casually and drawing a soft line down your jaw with his finger.

“I was actually hoping that you might be free for a drink, or dinner sometime soon. But yes, I’ve be honoured to photograph you for your campaign.”

“Well then if I may be so bold; what are you doing once you leave this studio?” you asked, straightening his beret for him.

“A lonely pizza and a bottle of beer for one. But I think I may have just had a better offer…” his voice lowered to something akin to seductive again, the smirk returning to his face.

“I think you might have. Let me change into some actual clothes, maybe we can grab dinner?”

“Absolutely. Anywhere you choose,” he smiled, pressing his lips to yours in a sweet impromptu kiss. You sank into it, before pushing him back to head over to the little case you’d been packing, pulling out the casual dress you’d worn to the studio that morning. Taehyung made no move to leave the little dressing room, leaning his back against the door and shoving his hands in his pockets.

“You’re sticking around?” you asked.

“Absolutely. I wouldn’t want to miss the show…”

[kkeidawrites]

Pssts I got the stuff the content after this I think you’ll find to be quite lewd ready yourself👀

Adrian Tepes X Black!Reader

Notes: ok so this starts very silly and stupid mentions of poop not scat promise Adrain jus teases reader about anal super teasing kink

You ran into the study Adrian was in, and skipped through the doors.

“Adrian! I did it!”

“Oh really? All by yourself now?”

He answered slyly and put down his book. On the desk it was a tad cool nowadays and Adrian sat by the fire in the cozy library

“Don’t tease me! You don’t even know what I did! Anyway, I was looking at the doctor books.”

He snorts, repeating doctor books.

“I don’t poop anymore!”

He spat his tea coughing at the absurdity I’d just blurted.

“I- huh?? I’m pretty sure you need to shit, half sheep or not, I don’t know what you read but-“

He blabbered on increasingly concerned with my wellbeing.

I stopped him to explain I was gonna be just fine.

“Listen listen! Of course, I couldn’t really do something like this safely without magic! It’s a little hard to explain, but I radiate excess waste off in the form of my aura. Mines pink!”

He slowly calmed at my explanation his expression morphing from mild worry to amused disbelief.

“Well as long as there’s no adverse effects. And why would you do such a thing?”

“Cause pooping is gross!”

He was about to laugh before a sly smile grew on his face. He slowly rested his head on his hand and said

“Hmm well yes, perhaps. But have you ever heard of the saying don’t use it and you lose it.”

I felt a cold in my head at the implication.

“Th-that’s not gonna happen!!”

I blurted to an undeterred Adrain.

“Hahaha well you never know. If you happen to require my assistance in keeping your privates, I’d be happy to lend my ah tool.”

Jus as my head been cooled, it erupted in heat. The blood tickling and pricking my nose. I whispered “t-tool...!” As my heart jumped in my chest.

“Y-you saying this too!! Y-your joking!! Your just teasing me!”

As my mind couldn’t help but to fall into a deep gutter, Adrian was no help in the senerio playing out in my head.

“And since you won’t be defacteing anymore. I suppose that’s the only use for it.”

I opened my mouth to counter but he mock gasped.

“Have you done this just so I’d give you ana-“

“OH MY GOD STOP!! YOUR SO EMBARRASSING THATS N-NOT WA-HAT I-“

My sentence devolved into chocked whimpers and stammers. He couldn’t tease me like that! Not when I... not with the way I felt for him.

I tried scraping up my dignity with a pout before turning on my heel and stomping-

He’d appeared in front of me and swung me around in his embrace like a dance before he fell pulling me to the floor with me

“Now, now I can’t help but to tease you when you’re so shy about sex.”

I couldn’t say a complete word as he hit the mail on head.

“Your blood pumps so hard when I tease you, when I teleport to you, when I walk in the room.”

You were completely shocked and mortified.

“But you like that sort of thrill do you not?”

“I-I don’t like bbeing...”

I couldn’t even finish the lie.

“Well, if you don’t then...”

He began to slide his lean body off me and I swiftly caught the hem of his shirt. He looked down to my face giving off heat and you’re free hand covering the bottom half of your face.

Fuck you’re adorable. What was he gonna do with you?

“Wwait please s...stay...”

My eyes darted from him to the space beside him; back and forth.

“Stay, where?”

A pause. Every time I spoke I got quieter.

“...o...on top of m-me.”

“Hmmm, then will you answer my assumption about you?”

I peeked up at him through long eyelashes.

“I...I love you...”

He bit his lip trying to regain control over himself.

“You can’t escape with your love confession. Now you have to know that I love you too, but you’ll answer my question.”

I bit my own lip and took a shaky breath in preparation.

“Y-yea I ...I like... being teased.”

“By whom?”

My heart was racing as hot tears pricked the corner of my eyes.

“By, you.”

“Hahaha I’ll take your answer for now.”

I felt like he’d been smothering me with his aura, going to the trouble of slowly getting the truth from me. I let him into my chest and head hypnotizing me. Finally, I took a first full breath.

“You did so good for me, Dear.”

I shivered as he whispered lowly into my ear.

He wrapped his arms around me and sat up with me.

“Wh-what just happened...why was that so...”

He chuckled.

“Was it too intense? You aren’t the only one who can manipulate their aura. Of course, I suppose we use it for different reasons.”

I laughed breathlessly before gasping. That feeling came again, then left.

“Although, it does help...”

He placed his hand on my chest.

“That I love you...”

The heat had only partially subsided from my face. I fidgeted with my hands, my tail flicking back and forth as I sat in his lap.

“Th-that was nice...”

“Only nice?”

“....it was... really good...”

He smiled down at me. His eyes sparkled softly as he looked at something so precious. Geez if he kept looking at me like that, I was really gonna start crying.

“Alright then. We’ll take baby steps for now.”

He lifted me and walked from the study into the hall.

“Where are you...”

“To sleep.”

I flushed, oh crap! My heart jumped in my chest again.

“Don’t worry, I’m sure you must be tired, in fact I’m exhausted. This power is a little new, but it’s not often I use it you know.”

I smiled swatting him for flexing on me. Adrian took me to a blissfully dim room. I loved the feeling of his body there embracing me like this. I felt a peace I couldn’t describe with words especially since Adrain was relaxed enough to sleep. With this, I felt like we could heal what was left of our tattered hearts.

¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥

@littlemori24! Now you know I love me a bit of nsfw here and there but this right here...just made me feel so much better than I was feeling earlier today. Thank you so much for the submission! Y’all really need to check out her tumblr she has so many great stories other than Castlevania that I’m sure you all will love. Show her some support by following her and checking out her stories!

[psychedellic-phase]

Fifteen (pt 8)

A/N: thank you for all the love on part 7!! it really popped off. I was expecting maybe 2 people to read this so thank you for all the kind messages :)

word count: 3.5k

tw: cursing, angst, all around sad vibes

masterlist!

The clock read 7:13. Derek had responded almost immediately, telling him he’d be there at 8 sharp. Spencer paced around the room in a circle around the box. He had time, just one more letter wouldn’t hurt? 

‘No pace yourself,’ He thought, but somehow kept migrating towards the box. Like it was the sun and he was caught in its gravitational pull, or more accurately, it was a black hole, sucking him in and swallowing him whole. 

He sat in front of it, trying to find some will power to just stop and breathe for a moment. Every word was like a jab in the gut, but he couldn’t stay away. He was twisting the knife you had shoved in his heart. Maybe he’s a glutton for punishment. 

He grabbed the box and letter 7. Lucky #7 belonged to the Caltech hoodie he had folded neatly in the bottom of the box when he knocked it over. He smiled, remembering the million times he had seen you wear it. He couldn’t remember the last time he put it on; it always looked better on you anyways. He unfolded it and pulled it over his body. The smell of you enveloped him. You smelled like vanilla and musk and almonds and sunshine and happiness. It smelled warm. It smelled like home. 

“Why do you put on a thousand sprays of perfume?” He recalled asking you, coming up behind you while you were getting ready for date night. 

He wrapped his arms around your torso and held you tightly, burying his face in the crook of your neck. You giggled under him, spinning around in his arms so you faced him and shook the bottle in his face. 

“I like to smell good. It’s an underrated sense.”

He smiled, still holding your body close to his, “I know, isn’t it? Olfaction is the most primal of the six senses. It is closely linked to survival and can bring out instinctive and subconscious behavior.”

You spun out of his arms and back to your dresser, still listening to him intently. You always listened, no matter how many times he went on the same rant, you always listened and even chimed in sometimes. You nodded along to what he was saying as you clasped the locket around your neck and fixed up your makeup. 

“Fragrances have the ability to evoke both positive and negative psychological states of mind and reactions in milliseconds. Scents bypass the thalamus and go straight to the brain's smell center, the olfactory bulb, which is directly connected to the amygdala and hippocampus.”

“So that’s why smells trigger intense memories?” You said, adjusting Spencer’s constantly crooked tie and running your hands across his chest. 

“Exactly.” 

He missed how it felt to have your hands on his chest, feeling his pounding heart through his dress shirt. He missed how you would wiggle his tie to fix it and when it was especially bad you’d even undo it and retie it for him.

“Well, then I hope every time you smell me you remember something good,” you said, planting a kiss on his cheek. 

Spencer made a face and wiped at his cheek, “Lip gloss?”

You giggled and overzealously applied another coat, pursing your lips into a kiss. 

“It looks amazing but it’s so... sticky.”

“Then you don’t have to kiss me,” you said, shrugging and turning away.

“Oh, I most definitely have to kiss you.”

You were right, smelling you did trigger some hidden memory in his mind. He hadn’t thought about that day in years. 

The things he’d do to complain about a sticky, glittery, lip gloss kiss again. 

He buried his face in the sleeves, wishing it was the crook of your neck and began to read: 

“This one is short, sweet, and to the point. I feel like I’m getting redundant, and my hand is cramping. I just keep saying how sad and lost I am. It’s getting boring. So let's get into the CalTech hoodie. 

It’s the first item you moved into my place. It’d been about a year and a half of us being together and you were spending most nights with me. Your apartment is great, and cozy, and so undeniably you, but mine is bigger. Mine was made for two people; it even has a guest room. 

One day I cleared out the bottom drawer of my dresser. You always brought your go-bag and I thought it was finally time for you to graduate to a drawer. That night I opened the drawer and said, “Ta-da!” while giving you jazz hands. 

Your mouth curled up into a smile, “What’s this?”

“This is your drawer.”

“My drawer?” Your eyebrows went up in shock. I thought maybe I was being too much, maybe it was too soon, so I backpedaled. 

“Well, I mean, I thought since you’ve been coming with the bag all this time, I’d give you somewhere to keep some pajamas and stuff so you wouldn’t have to b-bring the bag? I don’t know I’m sorry—“

You scooped me up in a kiss, dropping your bag on the ground. You lifted me off the ground and I wrapped my legs around your torso. It was like a movie. 

“I love it,” you said, peppering me with more kisses. 

“And,”

Kiss

“I,”

Kiss

“Love,”

Kiss

“You.”

You put me down and I was smiling so hard my face hurt. The love of my life was semi moving in with me. That officially made it serious in my book. You unpacked the bag and this sweatshirt is the first thing you put in the drawer. 

Over time, one drawer turned into two drawers, and into an entire dresser. And eventually a rack in my closet (your three-piece suits must hang) and two toothbrushes. There were two sets of shampoo and conditioner, two mugs were always in the sink waiting to be washed, and two used sides of my bed. You brought little bits of yourself with you every time, leaving books or papers. It started out with you staying over after every date night, then every weekend, and eventually we drove to and from work together because we were both going to the same place. Home. 

When we invited our friends over it wasn’t “Let’s go to Y/N’s” it was “Let’s go to Y/N and Spencer’s.” I loved that. It was our place, Spence. And we lived together so well. I cooked (or tried to) and you’d do the dishes. I’d do laundry and you liked to fold it. You took out the garbage and I fed the fish. Then at the end of a long night I’d snuggle up on the couch next to you and we’d watch Dr. Who or something else like that and you’d rub my feet or back. I’d always fall asleep on the couch on top of you and you’d always carry me up to bed. 

Everyone thought it was a little odd that you lived with me but still had your apartment. I always thought it was a little weird too, but you said you used it like an office and for storage. 

“You have one bookcase Y/N, where am I supposed to put my stuff?” Is what you’d say and I’d laugh and joke that you lived in a library. I’m glad you kept it though, you ended up needing it at the end. Even when we were together it was your getaway. You would go there to recharge a lot. It’s your safe place. That’s why I’m glad you’re reading all this there. 

Me? 

I’m writing this at the kitchen table where we would share coffee every morning and you’d read the newspaper from an obscure small town. The kitchen table where I’d time how fast it took you to do the crossword and you’d pass me the comics because you know how much I love Garfield. I have the blanket you got me for Christmas one year over my shoulders. It’s the red one that we laid under many nights on the couch.  It smells like you. Everything in this place smells like you. I used to love that. In the beginning, it reminded me of you when you were gone. I’d miss you and grab this blanket or a shirt or anything that was yours and shove my face into it. You always smell like old books and fall, like cinnamon and firewood. I used to love it. Now as I’m sitting here wrapped in this blanket that smells like you I’m nauseous. I can’t live in a place that is so you without YOU, Spencer. It’s cruel really, how you permeated through every part of my life. It’s gut wrenching, but my fault. If I hadn’t allowed you to be all consuming this would be easier, maybe I wouldn’t hurt so much. I lost everything the day I lost you. I used to be angry. I’m sorry for all the nights I yelled at you. It wasn’t fair. I didn’t even realize how much you were hurting too. I promise you, I’m not mad anymore. I’m just sad and tired, so emotionally exhausted.  

Some nights even after you left I’d wear this to sleep. I’d snuggle up in it and pretend it was your arms taking me away to a dreamland much better than here. The smell of you triggers all the memories. Because the amygdala and olfactory bulb are close together or something, right? 

Well I’m sick of the memories. They come like waves; one moment I’m fine. Right now I’m thinking of you and me baking and icing cupcakes for Mia’s birthday and getting flour all over ourselves and laughing. Then I’ll remember me and you and the yelling and then I cry, no not cry, I wail. And then I start all over again. 

That’s another reason why I have to leave. I can’t inhabit a two bedroom when it’s just me anymore. So there you go, here’s the hoodie. It’s tattered and pilled and shrunk and has a bleach stain from how much I washed it but it’s yours. It’s about time you have it back.”

Maybe he had permeated through your life, but was that such a bad thing? He planned on spending the rest of his with you; making your two lives and two souls into one just made sense. He put the paper down and just let himself be consumed by the smell and many memories of you, crashing over him like waves. He allowed himself to drown, finding an odd comfort in the feeling.

At 7:52 Spencer was sitting on the couch waiting for Derek. He thought maybe they should do this in a coffee shop or somewhere public, but he knew he’d be crying in minutes and didn’t need an audience. He just needed his friend. 

When the knock on the door came he didn’t hesitate. He just opened it up and let Derek in. 

“I’m sorry about before. I-I just,” Spencer sputtered out his attempt at an apology, lifting his arms and letting them fall in defeat. The hoodie had shrunk; the sleeves barely reached his wrists. 

“It’s okay kid, I know,” Derek grabbed his shoulder in the same big brother way he always did, and they both sat on the couch. 

“Coffee?” Spencer offered. Derek nodded and within minutes he had his own steaming cup. They sat in awkward silence, neither one of them knowing what to say or where to start.  

Derek spoke first. 

“When you left work yesterday, you looked like you’d seen a ghost. What’s going on, Reid? I know that wasn’t just from Y/N leaving.”

Spencer gulped. He had seen a ghost, the ghost of you. Not the you he had seen just yesterday morning, he saw the you that he remembered sharing a home with, sharing a bed with, sharing the clothes on his back with. Had it only been twenty hours since he saw you last? He felt like he hadn’t seen you in years. He couldn’t even remember anything about you yesterday clearly. Was your hair up or down? Did you wear pants or a skirt? Did you laugh? It felt like you weren’t even there, and that was the last time he would see you. He felt sick. 

“I think the easier question is what isn’t going on.”

“Reid, I know you’re hurting man, talk to me.”

Spencer looked at Derek with his head tilted sideways, “Did you know about the box?”

“The box? What box?”

Spencer got up and made his way to the chess table, grabbing the now much lighter box and dropping it on the coffee table. The two mugs rattled, a little coffee spilled out. 

“This box.”

Derek leaned to look in it, flicking through the open letters Spencer put on top, “What is this?”

“A box of stuff Y/N wanted me to have and a bunch of letters detailing exactly how we got here.”

Derek laughed lightly, “She always did have a flare for the dramatic. What’s in it?”

Spencer sighed, he didn’t want to tell him the details, “I’m only about halfway through it all.”

“Do you want to go through it together?”

Spencer scratched the back of his head, “No, I think she wants me to do this alone.”

Derek understood, “Well talk to me about it so far. What’s going on up there?”  He poked Reid’s head playfully, trying to lighten up the dark room. 

“It’s been pretty happy so far. It’s full of good memories, first date, anniversary, when she met my mom. But I know what comes next. I just don’t want to keep going.”

He stared into the wrinkled papers, “There’s so many things she never said to me and I never said to her. The more I read the more it feels like I didn’t even know her.”

“You know that isn’t true. You knew her better than anyone. The two were like two halves of a whole person.”

Spencer nodded, his throat going dry despite all the coffee he was pouring down it. He thought you were two halves of one soul; but the more he learned about the last three years, the farther from the truth that seemed. 

“Reid, look at me,” Derek forced Spencer to make eye contact, “I know the last few months were bad. I spent them with her. Tell me your side.”

Spencer laid back into the couch, wishing it would just swallow him whole. 

Derek sighed, “Kid, I know I should’ve been more there for you then, but I’m here now. Talk to me.”

“Alright,” Spencer conceded, “It was 127 days ago. That’s when everything happened.”

Derek could feel Spencer stiffen beside him, “That’s when Y/N went on leave but I stayed at work.” He gulped, a dreadful feeling and sour taste already in his mouth, “I felt bad about leaving her alone, I really did, but I just couldn’t be there. I couldn’t walk around that place and know what should’ve been. I couldn’t be there for her the way she needed me to be. She needed to talk and cry, like all the time. I just needed space and some alone time to figure out my head. I took it whenever I could. The very little time we did spend together was spent fighting. I don’t think we had a normal conversation until a few weeks ago. Then after the month was up she said she wasn’t ready to come back yet. She took more days, and Hotch let her. Hell, he encouraged her to. He wouldn’t even let her near the building until a month and a half ago. I kept telling her it wasn’t healthy; she couldn’t just sit there all day and wallow. She didn’t listen to me, she just let the grief swallow her whole. And then we went on that stupid trip, God I wish I hadn’t gone.”

“The one to the beach?”

Spencer groaned, “Yeah, it was awful. It was supposed to be a week but by day three we were at each other’s throats so much that I flew home. I started avoiding her even more, spending every night in my apartment. Eventually, her four week leave ended up being closer to eight, and in week five we broke up. Technically, she broke up with me, but I know I wasn’t in it. She just didn’t get that I need to be alone sometimes, that’s just how I process stuff.”

Derek nodded, “You put up walls.”

“That’s an understatement,” Spencer chuckled, “But then I realized how badly I messed up. I forced her away, and I hated myself for it. So, I started going to her place, begging her to talk to me. I wanted to fix it. But just when I took my walls down, she put hers up. I lost her.”

They sat in silence for a while, the only sound being Spencer’s sniffles. He felt lighter, like the weight of that damn box was no longer on his shoulders. Then he felt himself go numb again and he couldn’t quite tell if that was better or worse than the heartache. 

“I checked on her every day, you know?” Derek broke the delicate silence. 

Spencer turned to look at him and made eye contact. Derek looked tired too. 

“I never thanked you for that.”

Derek shook his head, “There’s no need to, you would’ve done it for me. Sometimes it was a text, other days I’d bring her something to eat and force her out of bed. She didn’t talk much, but you know what she did talk about?”

Spencer just shrugged. 

“She’d ask about you. Every damn day.”

Spencer didn’t know whether to be elated or distraught, “Everyday?”

Derek nodded, “Everyday.”

“What else did she do?” Spencer said with a watery smile. 

Derek laughed, “She was always in bed; I was shocked she even gathered herself up enough to go on that trip. When I’d go see her I’d bring takeout and she wouldn’t eat it. I practically force fed her for a month.”

“She was looking skinnier.”

“Yeah, I think something like twenty pounds? I thought it was from—“

Spencer cut him off, not wanting him to say it. Saying it out loud made it real, and he didn’t want it to be real. 

“What else did she do?”

 “She made me watch a lot of New Girl.”

Spencer stifled a laugh, “Yeah, she loves Nick.”

“What’s that one line she’d always say? Something about reading?”

“‘I'm not convinced I know how to read. I've just memorized a lot of words,’” Spencer said and he and Derek fell into genuine laughter. For a moment it felt like everything would be okay.  

But the silence came again, and although it was much more comfortable this time, the heartache returned. They sat there, Spencer’s head and heart hurting and Derek trying his hardest to just be there. He wanted to be what Spencer needed, like he had been what you needed.

Spencer knew you were in bed constantly, barely eating, maybe waking up to shower. He knew all of that but still couldn’t bear to be near you. He felt like the worst person alive. 

“So what now?” Derek asked. 

Spencer shrugged, “I honestly don’t know. Where do I go from here?”

Derek sighed, leaning back into the couch, “There’s only two options, kid. You get over it here or you get your ass on a plane and go get the girl, movie style.”

Spencer chuckled, “I want to, but she explicitly asked me not to.”

Derek opened his mouth but Spencer knew what he was going to say, so he cut him off, “And she said I couldn’t send you after her either.” 

“What? Why not?” Derek looked at him confused. 

“‘Don’t chase me and don’t send Derek to chase me. We both deserve to move on.’ It was in the rules.”

Derek took a long sip of coffee, “You know neither of you are going to move on, don’t you?”

Spencer reached up to rub his temples, willing away the dull ache forming behind his eyes. He did know. He knew this feeling in his chest would never go away, just fade with time. He knew that if he was in a room full of all the people he loved he’d immediately look for you. You. Not JJ. Not his own Mother. You. 

“Yeah,” he croaked, “And I don’t want to.”

Derek pulled him into a hug and Spencer buried his head in the crook of Derek’s neck. When they separated they both just stared at the box. 

“You gotta finish them, kid. It’ll hurt like hell but maybe it’ll give you some closure.”

Spencer nodded and reached in to grab #8, “Want to see what’s in this one?”

Derek shook his head, “Nah, this is between you and the lady.” 

Derek made his way towards the door as Spencer toyed with the envelope, “And if you change your mind, I can get us on the next flight out there and you can go get the girl, Pretty Boy.”

Spencer smiled, “I just might take you up on that, but not until I’m done here.” 

Derek smiled and gave him one last pat on the back, leaving Spencer with the box.

part 9!

taglist! 

@l0ve-0f-my-life​ @aperrywilliams​ @helloniallslovelies​ @random-ravings

@ajwantsapancake​ @andiebeaword​ @boiled-onionrings​ @frnks-stuff​ @icantevenanymore1​ @mellifluouswildbluebells​ @rottenearly​ @sammypotato67​ @blushingwueen​ @peaxhyjaes​ @justanotherfangurlz​

[urcrybby24]

Adrian Tepes x Black!Reader

Notes: ok so this starts very silly and stupid mentions of poop not scat promise Adrain jus teases reader about anal super teasing kink

You ran into the study Adrian was in, and skipped through the doors.

“Adrian! I did it!”

“Oh really? All by yourself now?”

He answered slyly and put down his book. On the desk it was a tad cool nowadays and Adrian sat by the fire in the cozy library

“Don’t tease me! You don’t even know what I did! Anyway, I was looking at the doctor books.”

He snorts, repeating doctor books.

“I don’t poop anymore!”

He spat his tea coughing at the absurdity I’d just blurted.

“I- huh?? I’m pretty sure you need to shit, half sheep or not, I don’t know what you read but-“

He blabbered on increasingly concerned with my wellbeing.

I stopped him to explain I was gonna be just fine.

“Listen listen! Of course, I couldn’t really do something like this safely without magic! It’s a little hard to explain, but I radiate excess waste off in the form of my aura. Mines pink!”

He slowly calmed at my explanation his expression morphing from mild worry to amused disbelief.

“Well as long as there’s no adverse effects. And why would you do such a thing?”

“Cause pooping is gross!”

He was about to laugh before a sly smile grew on his face. He slowly rested his head on his hand and said

“Hmm well yes, perhaps. But have you ever heard of the saying don’t use it and you lose it.”

I felt a cold in my head at the implication.

“Th-that’s not gonna happen!!”

I blurted to an undeterred Adrain.

“Hahaha well you never know. If you happen to require my assistance in keeping your privates, I’d be happy to lend my ah tool.”

Jus as my head been cooled, it erupted in heat. The blood tickling and pricking my nose. I whispered “t-tool...!” As my heart jumped in my chest.

“Y-you saying this too!! Y-your joking!! Your just teasing me!”

As my mind couldn’t help but to fall into a deep gutter, Adrian was no help in the senerio playing out in my head.

“And since you won’t be defacteing anymore. I suppose that’s the only use for it.”

I opened my mouth to counter but he mock gasped.

“Have you done this just so I’d give you ana-“

“OH MY GOD STOP!! YOUR SO EMBARRASSING THATS N-NOT WA-HAT I-“

My sentence devolved into chocked whimpers and stammers. He couldn’t tease me like that! Not when I... not with the way I felt for him.

I tried scraping up my dignity with a pout before turning on my heel and stomping-

He’d appeared in front of me and swung me around in his embrace like a dance before he fell pulling me to the floor with me

“Now, now I can’t help but to tease you when you’re so shy about sex.”

I couldn’t say a complete word as he hit the mail on head.

“Your blood pumps so hard when I tease you, when I teleport to you, when I walk in the room.”

You were completely shocked and mortified.

“But you like that sort of thrill do you not?”

“I-I don’t like bbeing...”

I couldn’t even finish the lie.

“Well, if you don’t then...”

He began to slide his lean body off me and I swiftly caught the hem of his shirt. He looked down to my face giving off heat and you’re free hand covering the bottom half of your face.

Fuck you’re adorable. What was he gonna do with you?

“Wwait please s...stay...”

My eyes darted from him to the space beside him; back and forth.

“Stay, where?”

A pause. Every time I spoke I got quieter.

“...o...on top of m-me.”

“Hmmm, then will you answer my assumption about you?”

I peeked up at him through long eyelashes.

“I...I love you...”

He bit his lip trying to regain control over himself.

“You can’t escape with your love confession. Now you have to know that I love you too, but you’ll answer my question.”

I bit my own lip and took a shaky breath in preparation.

“Y-yea I ...I like... being teased.”

“By whom?”

My heart was racing as hot tears pricked the corner of my eyes.

“By, you.”

“Hahaha I’ll take your answer for now.”

I felt like he’d been smothering me with his aura, going to the trouble of slowly getting the truth from me. I let him into my chest and head hypnotizing me. Finally, I took a first full breath.

“You did so good for me, Dear.”

I shivered as he whispered lowly into my ear.

He wrapped his arms around me and sat up with me.

“Wh-what just happened...why was that so...”

He chuckled.

“Was it too intense? You aren’t the only one who can manipulate their aura. Of course, I suppose we use it for different reasons.”

I laughed breathlessly before gasping. That feeling came again, then left.

“Although, it does help...”

He placed his hand on my chest.

“That I love you...”

The heat had only partially subsided from my face. I fidgeted with my hands, my tail flicking back and forth as I sat in his lap.

“Th-that was nice...”

“Only nice?”

“....it was... really good...”

He smiled down at me. His eyes sparkled softly as he looked at something so precious. Geez if he kept looking at me like that, I was really gonna start crying.

“Alright then. We’ll take baby steps for now.”

He lifted me and walked from the study into the hall.

“Where are you...”

“To sleep.”

I flushed, oh crap! My heart jumped in my chest again.

“Don’t worry, I’m sure you must be tired, in fact I’m exhausted. This power is a little new, but it’s not often I use it you know.”

I smiled swatting him for flexing on me. Adrian took me to a blissfully dim room. I loved the feeling of his body there embracing me like this. I felt a peace I couldn’t describe with words especially since Adrain was relaxed enough to sleep. With this, I felt like we could heal what was left of our tattered hearts.