#but they’re not going to learn anything if they stay underneath tables all day long… that kind of defeats the purpose of being in school.

[theres-whump-in-that-nebula]

Just applied for a summer childcare position (like for a camp type thing) that pays 20–28 dollars an hour based on qualifications (I should be towards the end of that scale because I work in a school; and the only requirement the job lists is to be 16 and have experience with children). So hopefully they’ll consider me. That would be wonderful.

[ivymarquis]

The B.A.G. Coalition

Did I use one of my work breaks on my 14hr shift to write this? Yes, yes I did. I also took time out of my day to make sure my introduction to the COD MWII fandom was a crack!fic despite promising angst with Ghost and simping from Price. Both of which are still coming.

Tags; platonic 141 + Reader, crack fic, drinking, weaponization of barrack bunnies, dunking on Graves.

I don’t know how the military works and I don’t care to learn.

You try really, really hard to not fixate too much on the whole being a woman in the boy’s club thing because you’ll drive yourself insane if you do.

You’re good at your job, you’re not getting preferential treatment, and all is right in the world. Your team was cautious, gauging your capabilities but ultimately warming up to you and welcoming you into the fold.

A mission planned with 141 and Shadow company means that Graves is a tolerated interloper into the group.

Everyone is settled into a booth in the corner of a pub near base, a few drinks in as the night wears on. You are finally feeling settled in and like your feet are firmly underneath you and you’re no longer treading water, watching your back as the other 141 assess you.

And it’s the exact moment when Graves asks “Are you seeing anybody?” that you realize you’ve girlbossed entirely too close to the fucking sun.

The table’s reaction is immediate. Your “I beg your pardon?” is muffled by Ghost’s “Sod off, Graves,” Soap’s “She’s been fucking drinking” and Gaz shooting him a look while Price clears his throat with a pointed “Commander?”

Good to know your team has your back because what the fuck.

“Not like that,” you’re not entirely certain if he’s back peddling or being genuine, “I don’t know what it is but none of the women around this base date. It’s like pulling teeth.”

“Really?” Gaz asks. “I haven’t been having any issues.”

Your eyebrow arches, reaching for your drink as you realize there’s not enough alcohol in the world for this conversation. “Yeah no ever since the B.A.G. Coalition was formed, you’re gonna have to download Tinder or something, Commander” You speak without thinking, a look of horror dawning on you that the alcohol has loosened your lips a little too much. Well, shit.

“The what?” Graves asks incredulously.

You panic, reflex having you turn towards Price. “Please get me out of here,” you plead with him.

“Oh no can do, Sergeant.”

You cling to your glass like a buoy. “I’ve said too much,” you whisper.

“What the hell is the B.A.G. Coalition?” Graves asks again.

Taking a long draught of your drink, you steel yourself for both this conversation and the potential wrath of the bunnies now the open secret was out.

“Have you… noticed how the barrack bunnies don’t have anything to do with you?”

His eyebrows draw together. “Guess I never bothered to worry about it. Not like they’re hard to find,”

That last sentence had some teeth to it that you did not appreciate. Especially coming from a man who’s managed to piss off an entire base of them. “Hey now, I love the bunnies, you gotta be nice to them,” you admonish before remembering yourself and quickly adding a “Sir”.

The alcohol has your mind drifting away from the question at hand and going slightly to the left- still focused on the bunnies, but no longer directly leading to the coalition.

“They do important work and make my life easier when some guy is being obnoxious and won’t leave me alone,” you elaborate. “Also most of them are really nice and I don’t blame them for having a type and staying focused on it. I admire the commitment and tenacity.”

“Wait who was bothering you?” Price would hone in on that part.

“No one anymore, after I weaponized one of the bunnies and pointed her in his direction.”

“You…. Weaponized a barrack bunny?” Soap sounded out the idea, clearly having some image of a tactical assault bunny in mind.

“Yes I did. It was absolutely incredible. Poor guy never saw her coming- it was like watching a lioness take down a wounded gazelle.”

“A bunny battalion,” Gaz sighs into his drink, his pupils damn near in the shape of hearts at whatever image his brain was conjuring.

“What the fuck do barrack bunnies have to do with this coalition you’re talking about,” Graves tries to redirect the question.

Shit. Right.

Like, you get why he’s confused. From his perspective at least. Tall, blonde, conventionally attractive with a southern drawl most girls would go gaga over, not to mention the commander of Shadow Company. He should be having women chase him from all over. And here he was with no bitches and getting zero play.

And yet none of those attributes were actually indicative of him like… being a good person. Graves soured you like 3 day old sweet tea. There was something both saccharine and bitter about him all wrapped together even if you didn’t know for sure what the problem was.

“You did something to piss off the bunnies. I don’t know what and frankly I'm afraid to ask. Like, I thought maybe some supreme pick me bunny would rise from the ranks and make her move anyway but they have made a united front. It is both impressive and terrifying,” you’ve got just enough alcohol in your system that fuck it, let’s tell a superior officer a little something about himself that he clearly doesn’t know. “And the rest of us noticed. So it slowed the not-bunnies rolls too.”

There’s a beat of silence before the lightbulb clicks in Ghost’s head and he is busting out laughing. You don’t think you’ve heard him ever make that much noise even when he’s grousing out orders.

Gaz is the next one for the lightbulb to go off, verbalizing what B.A.G. stood for to a stupified Commander (and equally stunned Soap and Price).

“It’s Bunnies Against Graves!”

[girldragongizzard]

Chapter 2: My people

Rhoda is sitting in her apartment, near the north facing window of her dining area, leaning on the table there and looking out at the courthouse, with its grandiose modern architecture and its halo of golden brown trees.

She’s thinking about last Thursday when her best friend just got her new name legally recognized, and the emotions that they both felt and shared that day.

She remembers that that was the day she first started revisiting the harder memories she has of her son. Her child. Memories she’d been avoiding for more than a decade. 

It’s been pretty rough since then, and this friend of hers is in the middle of the roughness. She wishes she had more friends. But what she has are countless acquaintances and contacts. People she could work at to become friends with, if she could trust them enough. Or had the energy to try.

Sometimes circumstances choose friendships for you.

And she did get to reminisce and vent all Sunday, and that was cathartic and something she’s been needing for a long time.

But then, the next day, she learned that her friend is something she can barely comprehend.

She knew she was a dragon. And she knew she was raised by white parents, and basically white herself. These were things that Rhoda had chosen to accept and work with for the sake of their growing companionship and mutual support. And that talk on Sunday had been so important to her.

But then Meghan Estragon Draconis goes and says that she’s more immortal than the immortals they both know that have been monkeying with human affairs.

And Rhoda’s brain has gone blank.

She’s seen the magic at work, since that first day. It’s easy to believe in. It’s nigh impossible not to. It’s as real as electricity.

And it feels like her new best friend has suddenly been replaced by the page of a book. An illustration with a caption underneath it on the top half, labeled with her friend’s name. And the bottom half with just a snippet of story. Hardly anything she can make sense of.

Is there a person there anymore?

Was there ever?

She didn’t go down to the shop today, because she needs this alone time to try to think about this.

“I don’t want to get caught up in nobody else’s myth,” her mouth says. And she half agrees with it.

If it were the right myth, and she had the right role, it feels like it would take her away from her pain, though. And that’s why she’d given Meghan the time of day in the first place, she realizes.

Maybe she should start going back to church. Not for the religion, of course. That’s already rejected her and her child, Jacob. But for the community. The chance of having some kind of family again.

She could maybe leave her truths here, in her apartment, for that.

It’s so fucking hard.

She and Meghan had been lonely together, and it was something, at least.

Her phone buzzes.

She pulls it out and sees a message from Meghan in her group chat, “All plans blown today. Met Säure at DMV. Want to eat him. Talking instead.”

—

Astraia’s oversized keyboard arrived yesterday, so today she and Caleb are trying it out.

Caleb works graveyard, so he’s effectively staying up late. But he says it’s worth it.

The livingroom of their apartment has become a hydra den, the white walls completely unadorned, and half the floor of the room covered with animal hides they’ve been trading and saving for. Astraia’s old wardrobe and some of the furniture went into the effort of acquiring them.

The other half has their computers hooked up to two medium sized TVs.

She can’t fit through the front door anymore, but the sliding glass door leading the concrete patio is still big enough. Another molt, and she might have to find a garage to move into.

But she’s not arguing with herselves about that right now. She’s almost all completely focused on playing Diablo 2: Resurrection with Caleb.

She’s hissing. He’s cussing. But occasionally they will each reach out and give the other an affectionate bump. They’re working together through the Kurrast swamps on Hell and they both have always hated this level. The shared hatred feels like a kind of love.

Fortuitously, right as she creates a town portal and steps through to the safety of the docks, there’s a loud ping from Discord.

Her rightmost head poinks at Caleb, and she switches over to see which server it’s coming from. Caleb nods and leans over to look at her screen.

Queen Meg’s, of course.

The general channel.

Meg wrote, “Säure is dragon. Can human. Talking right now. All day. Might eat him.”

She and Caleb exchange glances, then she types, “Save us eight bites.”

Caleb holds out a fist, and she bumps it with one of her noses.

They keep playing

—

Joel is enjoying his new favorite pastime of letting children play on him.

It is a weekday, and most kids are at school, and usually it would be just him and the seagulls unless he went to one of his other haunts to drink with the locals. But there’s this one family, and it’s clear that the two children need their dragon time while their mother talks with a friend about their troubles. He can’t talk, but he’ll be here for them whenever he can. Tuesdays are usually one of their days.

There isn’t much to it. He just lies there, and they climb all over him, ignoring the actual play toy in the playground. Occasionally, when they’re both far enough away from him for a moment, he’ll roll over and change his positioning. Always folding up his wings carefully, and tight, though, as out of the way as possible.

A few strategic groans, and the kids all learn pretty quickly where not to step, if they don’t figure it out themselves at first glance.

He’s now lying on his back in the grass with his head facing east, giving him an upside down view of the hill that Flounder Sound Brewpub is on, and the university behind that. And he can’t help yawning.

Later that night, he’ll do his rounds and swallow up the excess food that the restaurants have to throw out. He’s their new compost bin, and it’s a pretty good gig. Sometimes he gets some beer out of the deal, too.

He doesn’t have a tablet or a phone or anything like that that he can use to connect with the other dragons, but he feels like he’s starting to understand them as if they’re talking, even when they don’t utter a word. He wonders if that goes both ways. Sometimes it seems like Meghan understands him better than she should.

In any case, he doesn’t get the message from Meghan in any way.

Instead, what happens is that he feels her and another dragon enter his territory as if they were rolling onto one of his wings with a little toy car. It’s not a painful sensation at all, just a very clear and obvious one. And he recognizes her presence very clearly.

He’s always been able to do this, even before, though no one believed him about all the dragons.

He doesn’t recognize the other one, but he knows his nature. That’s a really fucking big dragon.

He groans and gives an affable yawp and starts to roll very slowly back onto his feet. The two kids both complain and whine, but dutifully and carefully get off.

Once everyone is situated in a standing position, he looks at them, bobs his head, and then yawps quietly again, as cheerfully as he can manage.

And then he starts galloping toward the brewpub where Meghan and her rival are clearly headed.

—

Wentin is standing precariously on the roof of the wooden observation tower on the hill in the Fairport Arboretum, facing north, its lionine form dwarfing the structure. Its head is turning ever so subtly as it tracks the movement of a speck of a car driving from Northside to the south end of Downtown Fairport. There are times when the car is not visible to it, hidden behind trees or buildings, but its gaze is unerringly accurate.

It’s not tracking by sight.

As the car approaches the brewpub that’s its destination, Wentin creaks, “Too soon. Much too soon.”

—

Chapman has an annoying little job today.

It’s a business card sie has to design from elements the client gave the shop.

The problem is that the chosen comp has been returned on the third revision with the note, “Can we make my logo bigger, pls.” This is the third time sie has seen that note on this job.

As always, if the logo were any bigger it would bleed off the edges of the card and be illegible.

It seems like, about four times a year, another client makes this same demand of a business card or a small ad or a brochure. There’s just a type of business owner that doesn’t seem to understand the concept of space or how to communicate what it is that they actually want, and they all use the same cut and paste note, complete with the abbreviated “pls”.

Talking to hir coworkers and boss about it only gets light commiseration and maybe a cussword or two, but no further understanding. Nobody has a clue why people do this.

It must be a neurotype. A percentage of the human population that just sees space differently somehow.

Chapman dearly wants to scan this client to find out what’s going on, but that goes against hir personal code of ethics.

The only thing sie can do design-wise is actually make the logo a tiny bit smaller, increasing the white space around it, and moving all the other elements just a tad further away from it, shrinking them.

Otherwise, sie can effectively fire the client as being too hard to work with. Hir boss will back hir up on that.

Sie decides to give her expert design decision a try, thinking about how sie really shouldn’t have to put this much thought into such a small, routine job. And sighs.

Hir phone buzzes.

Sie leans back in hir chair and picks it up from its face down space on hir desk to look at the message as briefly as possible.

It’s Meghan.

It’s Meghan with Säure.

Chapman touches the scanning tattoos on hir wrists together and focuses on Meghan’s patterns, knowing that Meghan will feel this, and perhaps Säure will too.

They’re headed to Flounder Sound Brewpub, in a car.

Chapman scans the whole city next and spends a moment thinking about the data sie received from it.

It’s not numbers. It’s not something you could plug into a computer.

This century, Chapman would choose to describe it as like strings of probability, all interwoven and passing waves of meaning to each other. And that looking at a portion of it can give you clues as to what’s happening in the greater universe and hints as to what’s happening to a tinier portion of it, but never anything definitive. But at the scale of pattern that you look at, if you squint, sometimes you can predict the future.

Kind of like predicting where a baseball will fly after a pitcher has thrown it. At a certain point, you’re trying to predict where it will go after the batter has swung, and that’s harder.

Chapman groans and presses the backs of hir wrists together, a different set of tattoos.

This time, all the power in the building goes out.

Chapman was saving this particular effect for an emergency like this.

The power won’t go on for the rest of the day, and everyone will have to go home, where they will be slightly safer.

Maybe that will have been unnecessary, but sie does care about them.

—

Kim and Kimberly both interrupt their tasks to pull their phones out of their pockets at the same time and look at them. Then they exchange uneasy looks.

“What just happened?” the nosiest customer they’ve either ever met asks them.

“Armageddon,” Kimberly says, shugging, and putting her phone back in her skirt pocket, and then turning to the espresso machine to prep it.

“Don’t worry, I’m sure it will be fine,” Kim says, waving her hand dismissively at the customer and going back to the POS to finish the order.

Later, Kim mumbles to Kimberly, “I’m sure the others will keep us informed.”

“Or we’ll hear about it with our own ears when the city explodes,” Kimberly responds.

“Please don’t talk like that.”

—

Since his last statement, I’ve been having trouble figuring out what to say to Säure, and the rest of the drive has been oppressively quiet.

It’s almost like he’s managed to paralyze me with just words.

It’s my C-PTSD, I know. Suddenly having a social demand placed on me by an authority figure sometimes does this to me, even if I don’t want to recognize them as an authority.

I’m painfully aware of the perceived power he has over me as someone in his socio-economic position, and the very possible real power he has that I just honestly don’t know about. I don’t know what he’s spent his money on. And he has a larger vocabulary than me while exhibiting at least one of my own special abilities.

His draconic prowess is a huge unknown.

But, you know? So is mine. I’ve only just started learning what I can really do. And I can feel I’m due for another molt, which means I’m growing. I think. I know I’m growing. Maybe molting happens regardless.

So now, I’m holding my tablet in my lap and staring at the road, ignoring the car around me, and thinking about just whether or not I can get the better of him and show my dominance, at all. Ever.

And then we get to our destination, and the lunch time rush has made it so there are no parking spots within a two block radius.

And I get the rare joy to see a genuine billionaire silently, stoically fuming as he drives in circles, looking for a place to park where he won’t have to walk very much.

The really weird part of this moment is when I realize that we’re both dragons who should not be doing this. We should have our teeth on each other’s necks, claws dug into each other’s sides, beating each other silly with our wings. We should be wreathed in fire.

—

Ptarmigan stands on the roof of the Magnolia apartments, keeping an eye on Meghan’s duffel bag, even though she never asked her to do that.

It just has old clothes of Chapman’s in it. And there’s nothing else special on the roof, besides a smattering of small polished river rocks and undigested compressed pellets full of beak, bone, and feather fragments.

But every now and then, Ptarmigan feels like it’s a good idea to be up here when Meghan isn’t, and to keep an eye on things. Especially when the police presence in the neighborhood picks up.

She’s not exactly worried about being caught up here.

It would be extremely inconvenient. But she’s taken precautions to make that improbable. While she’s present, anyone thinking about checking the roof, or glancing its way, will remember nightmares they had as a child that terrorized them, and stop thinking about it.

Meghan’s had enough bother from the human authorities. It’s time someone trained them to reflexively ignore her home.

Meghan has no idea that Ptarmigan is doing this, and that doesn’t really matter.

Ptarmigan’s phone buzzes and she looks at it.

“Yeah,” she says. Then she walks to the southeast corner of the building and looks out over the city toward one of the brewpubs. The one near the Farmer’s Market square.

She reaches up and grabs the toothpick that’s in her mouth and flicks it out toward the street. She doesn’t even watch it fall.

Sitting down on the edge of the building, legs dangling over the side, she pulls her little sketch-journal out and yanks the ballpoint pen out of its spine.

It’s time to do some real work.

—

Maybe I’ll hear about all these reactions my friends are having after the fact and include them in one of the books I’m writing. For now, I’m just speculating.

I know that I now plan on writing several. Without being able to talk as well as I used to, I have the urge to be at my computer as often as possible and just write. And I know that even if I just write about the first few weeks of this whole experience, I’m going to infodump about dragons and it’s going to get too long for one book. And a lot has happened. A lot keeps happening.

Or, maybe I’ll be messily killed and eaten, if not by Säure then by Wentin, and I’ll lose my memories of this life, and it will all be filled in by one of my friends, as they finish this chapter of my story.

I feel pretty comfortable with either outcome, honestly. Though I don’t look forward to the experience of being eaten. Or most of me doesn’t.

I haven’t quite yet figured out how it will all turn out, but at least I know what I am.

—

There’s a moment, at the stop sign right in front of the brewpub, where the incensed Säure stops and just breathes. He closes his eyes, hands at ten and two o’clock, relaxes his shoulders, and takes in a breath through his nose and lets it out through his teeth.

And then he watches as a family of four leave the restaurant section of the brewpub and start walking toward their van, which appears to be parked around the corner to the right of us.

A little earlier, I had felt shifts from Chapman and Ptarmigan, so I know I’m being looked after.

If Säure did anything, I didn’t feel it.

He didn’t use Artistry.

I know I don’t feel any sort of shift when Wentin does its weird shit. And I expect I won’t feel anything whenever Säure sheds his disguise.

I can speculate as to what this means. It seems pretty obvious, but sometimes I like to keep my reactions free of conclusions. I just note this right now.

Maybe Säure didn’t do anything but relax.

He smiles at me as the spot opens up and he pulls forward to turn and take it before anyone else can.

“It. Worked,” he says.

[lazyneonrabbitt]

Anyway I can request a Lip/Reader/Carmy imagine about the reader being pregnant (and of course the guys don’t care who’s baby it is because they’re all in a relationship together so they’re in this together regardless of who’s it is) and the guys helping her through a really complicated pregnancy?

Okay this one got LONG. I'm absolitely terrified of getting pregnant so there's a whole lot of anxiety in this one.

CW: unplanned pregnancy and all its horrors, anxiety and medication, mentions of childbirth and c-sections.

The second you saw those two lines appear you spiraled. Both of the boys being at work leff enough room in the quiet appartment for your mind to start screaming at you.

Who's was it? Would you have to get it checked? Before or after the baby was born? Should you even keep it? You didn't plan this. What if they fought over who was the father?would either of them leave if they learned the baby was the other's?

You went to bed, not caring about anything you were supposed to do that day. You only wanted sleep. You eventually passed out after crying for god knows how long.

Your boys were going on a grocery run after work so they came home together, both carrying bags inside, only to be welcomed by the sound of the TV and half eaten breakfast on the coffee table. You were nowhere to be seen but your shoes and bag were at the door so you had to be home.

It was Lip's years of living with his family that set off his instincts to go find you ASAP. "Go put the freezer stuff away. I'll go see if I can find her." Carmen agreed and took the extra bags to put the frozen goods away quickly while Lip went straight for the shower, checking the tub, shower cabin and around the corner at the toilet. No sight of you so he moved to the guest bedroom where you would often be digfing through old items, sorting them out and organizing to keep your mind busy, mayne you had just forgotten the time. But you weren't there either so he almost ran into the bedroom where you were curled up underneath messy blankets. Your phone on the floor with an empty nox of tissues, the contents of which were all over the place.

"Yo Bear. Over here, now." Lip's voice summoned him in an instant, panic clear in his eyes as he stared at Lip for an answer.

They both stepped closer and sat down on either side of the bed. Carmen carefully climbed over to sit closer to you, moving quietly so he wouldn't wake you when his hand landed on something underneath the blankets, pushing them aside to take the item off the bed.

"Oh fuck, Lip.." He held up the item for him to see. The oh so familiar white stick in the other's hand spiked all kinds of emotions, snatching the thing to take a closer look.

A positive pregnancy test sat between his fingers. He ran a hand down his face with a deep sigh and stood up. "You wake her up, I'm calling the clinic." And with that he turned to walk out the door. "Lip!" Carmen whisper-yelled to get him to stay. "How about we talk to her first before making her decisions, huh?" Carmen waa clearly angry, but he was also right. Lip's past hadn't been too kind when it came to unplanned pregnancies and he wasn't planning to go through that shit again, but you were all adults, in a healthy relationship, with stable jobs and proper income now, so talking was step one now.

Carmen's movement had stirred you awake, blinking the sleep from your eyes and stretching before sitting up and taking in your surroundings. Carmen sat beside you with a hand on your blanket covered leg and Lip stood at the end of the bed with a nervous leg bouncing against the other, brows raised in question and holding something out in his hand. When you realised what it was the panic returned tenfold. Tears flowing freely and your breathing becoming irregular as the questions from earlier haunted your mind again.

"Sweetheart, calm down. We're not mad okay? We just want to talk about it." You were cuddled into Carmen's side, sniffling and wiping your eyes. "He's mad.." you hiccuped as you averted Lip's gaze. Carmen immediately reassured you that he wasn't and keeping his eyes locked on the other boy. Lip got the hint and came over to sit with you, placing the test on your nightstand and laid down to hug you both. "We'll do this together. Whatever you decide to do, we're supporting you."

You stayed like that for a while untill you were all calmed down again and getting hungry.

You collectively decided on ordering in, sat around the coffee table sharing the large order of chinese food. Lip called it comfort food, Carmen said celebratory dinner. Which led to the inevitable conversation to be had.

You shared ebery little concern and anxiety inducing thought with them and so did Lip, opening up to Carmen about his life and the comment he made earlier. Carmen listened to you both and after what felt like years of talking about plans, options, money and anything that would come with having a child you collectively decided to keep it.

Which led the three of you to your first appointment, first ultrasound and many, many nights of you being plagued by nightmares followed by puking up your insides, failing to go back to sleep and lots of anxiety.

Both boys did anything and everything for you, but the stress and constant anxiety the pregnancy was causing you was getting dangerously close to harming the baby's development.

During that first dinner talk you told them that the whole pregnancy thing terrified you but their support had made you feel a lot more comfortable with the idea, despite all the horror stories that had scared you away from even ever letting Lip fuck you without a condom in college even when you were on birth control.

At the hospital you got called into the nurse's room for your next appointment. Today was another ultrasound day, with a checkup on your mental health now that you were given medication to calm your head and supplements to make sure the baby would get all the needed nutrients.

"So, are you the momma's brothers?" The nurse's question came out of nowhere and caught them off guard, not having an answer fast enough so she kept the questions going. "You know we get multiple girls here who don't remember how they got pregnant. There's no shame in not knowing who the father is."

"It's either of us, actually." Carmen shot at the nurse. "We're together, the three of us." Lip pointed between the thee of you.

"So, you would like to get a DNA test done as well then." It was more of a statement than a question, but before she could even type anything into the computer Lip was on her ass already. "We don't want a fucking test, okay. We're here for you to check if our girl and our-" making a grand gesture to point at all three of you. "baby is healthy."

The appointment itself went well but the news that came with it was a whole different story.

All three of you couldn't keep their eyes off the small picture Lip was holding as you sat on the couch. Both boys couldn't help but be even more excited than bafore as you stared in horror at the second blob on the ultrasound that had decided to only now show itself.

You were having twins. The only stupid solution to give both boys a baby without having to get pregnant again at a later time, but also twice the amount of baby to give birth to. The one thing that still haunted your nightmares through the amount of medication you were taking.

With the news of twins you started having small complications. Most of them very common and easy to fix, but for you they all felt like the end of your life, the end of your relationship but neither Lip nor Carmy was letting those demons take over your thoughts. They did everything in their power to keep you content and wouldn't leave you alone for even a second. Their work schedules thrown apart so at least one of them would be home at all times. Every little cramp or concern had one or both of them drive you to your doctor who would mostly tell you your discomforts were normal for someone as far along as you.

The further along you got the more miserable you got, to the point of being unable to keep even the slightest bit of food in your system which led to more hospital trips to get you on liquids in order to keep your strenght up.

Now at eight months you were in bed most of the time, only getting up when needed.

You only had two more weeks before you were due, both Lip and Carmy being home to care for you.

Carmen was making you a simple meal he knew you would be able to handle and Lip busied himself with the final touches in the nursery when, with no warning up front or anything, your water broke as you waddled over to the bathroom.

"Help." The desperate, frantic voice had your boys on you in a second, the tears and the way you wrapped yourself around the door handle with your soaked, crossed legs told them enough. Carmen ran to grab your bag and car keys, making sure he snagged the new pack of smokes from the key bowl as he opened the door for you and Lip.

Luckily the hospital was only a few blocks over and fraffic was nonexistent.

The hospital visit wasn't such a smooth ride. After hours upon hours spent in that bed on god knows how many drugs you were brought in for emergency c-section to prevent any harm to both you and the twins. You cried and begged to just knock you out and take them out of you and to your luck they complied.

When the doctors woke you back up again you were acompanied by your boyfriends, each holding one of your children.

Upon release you made another appointment with your doctor. As soon as you were completely healed you were getting your tubes tied. No more of this. You had your two babies and no more were gonna be born from your body.

[lucygraysboy]

upon receiving no answer, billy figures lucy gray must have drifted off and closes the closet door all the way before tucking himself in. the blankets are strangely comfortable, sweet-smelling just like the songstress and almost equally as soft. they threaten to engulf him whole, his eyes slipping shut for just a moment, arm curled around the teddy bear, but he doesn’t make the same mistake twice and refuses to fall asleep. his body might be exhausted, still very much recovering from his last escapade, but adrenaline continues to rush through his veins, making him thrum from within. there’s a buzzing sensation in his chest, his skin tingling and he’s not sure if it’s fear, infatuation, anxiety or a combination of all three. his senses are heightened and so he can hear the not-so-light footsteps, wooden boards creaking as the preacher finds his way back home. he tenses then, but only up until he realizes the footsteps aren’t nearing, they’re moving in the opposite directions, away from lucy gray’s room. he’s tempted to whisper into the darkness then, ask if she’s alright and see if she’s really asleep, if she’s nervous as well, but that wouldn’t be wise of him and so he keeps his mouth shut. 

he’s on full alert for hours after, both dreading and hoping for daybreak — and it comes all too soon while simultaneously not soon enough. far to the east the stars are already paling, losing their sparkle as the sky begins to blush. hidden in the dark closet, billy has no way of telling what time it is exactly, but he can hear songbirds chirping outside and assumes it must be morning already. what throws him off is the fact that lucy gray doesn’t seem to be moving about her room, doesn’t reach into the closet to greet him or even only to grab spare clothes. something’s wrong. tiny bells going off in the back of his head, but he talks himself out of stepping out and checking himself. he has to learn how to put trust in her. he’s somewhat dozing off, slumped against the blankets, when the preacher’s voice fills the air and sends shivers down his spine, his heart racing again. listening to the muffled conversation, what billy can make is — she overslept, which puts his heart at ease, the preacher’s leaving today and will be gone several days, which in turn has his heart doing somersaults, and there’s something on the table for her… but they move out of his earshot and that piece of information is lost on him.

billy stays in the closet for several long moments, but it’s gotten so stuffy that there’s beads of sweat forming on his forehead, one already slipping down his temple, and lucy gray’s nowhere to be found. he assumes she’s forgotten about him and raced outside, still in her nightgown, to feed the animals. as soon as the sound of hooves fills the air, indicating the preacher’s departure, the cowboy decides to climb out of his hiding spot. his face slightly flushed as he pushes open the door and peeks outside, making sure his surroundings are more or less safe. the window’s slightly open, the soft rustle of the late morning breeze bringing his sweaty flesh some relief. he tries to look out, spot lucy gray’s slender silhouette near the barn or stables, but the cloud of dust left behind by the preacher’s horse still hasn’t settled and keeps him from spotting anything significant. he folds his makeshift bed into a neat pile and returns buttercup to the crib, picking up after himself until he figures he should probably try to find the outhouse, no longer dehydrated, his bladder uncomfortably full. that’s the plan. and then he’ll see what lucy gray’s up to, help her out with chores or fix them breakfast, his worries evaporating at the mere thought of seeing her smile again. but he can’t really go anywhere in pajamas, he decides, reminding himself all his clothes and boots are still underneath the bed and beginning to undress. 

“they do if they just rest their eyes and count sheep and go to sleep.” lucy gray quietly urged again, a smile in her tone. “it won’t be the easiest…avoidin’ him when he’s here and when he comes back. but we’ll figure it out,” she’s sleepily mumbling, her brain groggy and too tired to thoroughly think right now. the last thing she speaks with is a soft laugh at him saying goodnight to all of the animals, even shamus. then her lack of answer answers for him when he asks if she’s tired now, her body going limp and eyes resting as her mind has eased back into a comforting slumber. they moved just in time before the preacher made it home thirty five minutes later, coming in staggering from the alcohol in his system he’d been somewhere sipping on, griping at himself and finding his way to his bed. he was too drunk during the night to burst his way into lucy gray’s room, so as morning came, the sun rising bright and the sky had opened up to another clear blue day. he found her still asleep…sleeping on all the chores while he was suffering a hangover, that made him especially ANNOYED.

the door to lucy gray’s room bursted open, causing her to jolt right awake, mind immediately thinking billy has been caught. “get up, girl. there’s no sleeping IN. not when there’s plenty of chores to be getting done.” he came behind to pull her up by her arm. “i am, i am,” lucy gray jerked her arm back, she couldn’t control her mouth when she was irritable from her sleep being disturbed. “i’m heading out today. but that doesn’t give you any excuse to sleep on your chores. and just because i’ll be gone for several days doesn’t mean you’ll slack on any of your jobs.” he lectured her as a warning as she scooted out of bed, sleep still in her eyes. “i wasn’t plannin’ on it.” slacking on any of it.” she mumbles, rubbing her eyes. “there’s something you should check on the kitchen table i left,” he remembers to tell her as they go walking down the hall, “it’ll probably be important to watch your surroundings. more outlaws on the loose. and you remember what they did to your mother.” he uses as an excuse to remind her what they did and what he had no part of, “so don’t you be going anywhere but this house, lucy gray.” using it also to ensure she doesn’t leave this house, because he won’t be able to keep control on what she does. “alright, i’ll check it out. and i’ll be too busy with all these things to get done to be wanderin’ anywhere else anyway.” she claims and he turns with a suitcase, heading out the door without another word and for a second she wonders how the lord is letting her BE so lucky as he disappears into the yard. as she’s about to brush what he wanted her to see off, lucy gray wanders into the kitchen, looking around before finding a piece of paper on the table.

dark brows begin to knit, eyeing the reward amount, noticing what a lot of money that is then her eyes drift to…william h. bonney. nothing still rings any bells until she’s scooting the paper closer to her person, tilting her head and wondering why the drawing looks so much like billy antrim. william antrim. she would have passed it off as her just being paranoid and crazy, because the other details read things that threw her off�� 5’3”, blue eyes, blond hair. but then echoes of him telling her william— showed her this was no coincidence. the details were just written up wrong. her face paled, heart sinking. if it was true and she wasn’t SEEING things… it would make sense that’s how he ended up here yesterday, where he fled from, why he was fleeing. why he had been out in the sun for so long. had she really took in a wanted man, an outlaw? the same kind who had murdered her mother? and he— HE had killed people? that was the puzzling thing about it all, she couldn’t get her mind wrapped around. how was he so nice to her, but a killer? that just made it all the more frightening. now she had to think wisely and quickly…lock him up in that closet, pretend she didn’t find out, gently approach the topic to him? think, just. think. what was the best option? she didn’t know for once and it was causing her to slowly stress into panic.

[4dtk]

jaehyun as a bf

anon: “your writing brings me butterflies i love it you are so underrated!!!!! would love to request a jaehyun bf headcanons (like the one you did of mark <3)” thank you for the kind words anon <333 hope you enjoy this one!

(a bit of a plug lol but check out NCT 127's ideal r/s headcanons in this post!! i appreciate you checking it out! <3)

brief mentions of sex, but nothing explicitly nsfw!

likes to talk about music with you

especially jazz. there’s a plethora of songs out there with different renditions and sometimes he likes to ramble about who’s rendition he likes best

would play the piano for you if you asked, just maybe not after schedules or something. but usually when you’re free or alone together in the room, he likes you to sit beside him to listen to him play

you guys like to play a little game where he’ll play the chords and you play like a random note to create blobs of music

even if you don’t know how, the way the session always dissolves into giggles is his favourite thing in the world

if you know how to play the piano that’s great too!! jaehyun just likes the unexpected notes that come out since there’s no set melody in his mind

jaehyun needs to have some part of his body on yours at all times. like he has to hold your hand all the time, or a finger hooked around your backpack, or an arm around your waist.

at least when you’re together he does it very often and he’s just. obsessed with you lmfao

it’s also the reason he buys a promise ring when he’s sure of you as a significant other so you always have a part of him with you (his love)

would buy you those lockets for you to put pictures inside. he doesn’t care where you wear it though, around your neck, wrist, ankle, as long as the locket is on your person

he clings onto you like crazy in the mornings. jaehyun’s a heavy sleeper and likes to hug you on his side, so you’re always having trouble trying to pry him off of you in the morning

a bit nsfw: he likes morning lazy sex lol, ngl. jaehyun adores the rawness of your relationship in the morning and the sleepiness in your eyes when you’re gently pushing him away. he knows you don’t mean it but he makes sure you really want it first

loves the sunlight kissing your skin and the slow, gentle movements

so so intimate, he prefers it to the rougher forms of sex, but sometimes he doesn’t have that luxury since they leave for schedules quite often in the wee hours of dawn

for cuddling sense, jaehyun likes it when you’re under his arm and cuddled into his side. classic position but he dies every time inside when you look up at him and there’s this clueless look you have. has the biggest smile on his face after and you have to repeat the stuff you said bc he’s too distracted by how your eyes shine

second hot favourite (more of when you’re making out) is when you’re straddling him. nothing sexual, just like you on top of him when you’re kissing and stuff. he digs it when you’re pulling away for oxygen and he has to lift his body to reach for your lips again

gets flustered from kissing, but doesn’t show it. if he’s found a way to suppress the crazy crimson on his ears (which i doubt) then he will but his words will always contradict his expression

jaehyun can say “are you nervous, y/n?” with a smirk but his ears keep giving him away!!!!

mfer’s hands are shaking too when he trails it over your body. in disbelief you’re his.

sometimes shamelessly moans into the kiss LOL, not too loud but he whines when you pull away, and has to kiss you breathless again

when you kiss him, expect like a long-lasting kiss. doesn’t mind small pecks and stuff but he’ll want to savour your lips a little longer than a mere peck

jaehyun likes your neck too. when you’re hugging his face is always in your neck, placing small little butterfly kisses

you need to look out for him, always. mans always tripping over something at some point. it’s become more frequent now that he has you and my god he’s so unable to keep his eyes off of you that he trips over simple things. he once tripped over nothing

on the daily when he’s not tripping over you, he’s clumsy in a sense where he drops food on the table. he once struggled to tie up his growing hair into a mini ponytail bc it was just too little hair. the hair tie slipped from his fingers and shot itself into your face - those kinds of small small mishaps

it’s endearing but sometimes you can’t help but laugh at him

likes to take you out on impromptu dates. dates that are close by and easy to plan (?) i guess.

not saying jaehyun is a lazy boyfriend but he likes the more candid dates where you decide what to do as you go along. of course if it’s a big day like your anniversary or birthdays then he’d want to plan something out.

other than that, he just either lets you choose the places to go there or you two decide along the way. he doesn’t want to impose options for you and pressure you. if he’s being honest, he wouldn’t know where to go either lol so he just follows wherever you bring him

laughs so much when he’s with you. giggles, deep laugh, whatever you name it. your relationship is very light-hearted and he finds that he’s the one laughing more when you deliver jokes even tho he wants to make you laugh too

i can’t lie… his jokes can be dry sometimes i’m sorry jaehyun 😭 so he backs it up with laughter and has to catch his breath sometimes bc he finds it really funny

you’re not laughing at the joke, rather at his laugh so you might have to tell him that some way or another bc he’ll just keep making bad jokes i’m sorry y’all

he can’t handle the suuuuuper cheesy physically affectionate films or series (with shitty plot) but i feel like if the story’s interesting enough he’ll pay attention. likes bittersweet films too, i feel, gets him thinking

doesn’t mind cliched plots (fake dating / idealist girl meets realist boy / idk any others lol) but would propose something at the end that he thinks will make the movie/series more interesting

jaehyun likes to share his theories with you

unironically wants to learn the la la land tap dance scene with you. he ALWAYS hums city of stars too, no matter what. idk why but it sticks to him, in bed, in breakfast, when he’s doing something random

he did it once on the radio and he received a text from you in break that told him he was humming along to the song

with that said, jaehyun wants to try out the stuff in the rain quite a bit. making out, dancing, lying down, running, he likes that fascination that society has with doing things in the rain

doesn’t like it too much that he’ll get soaked, but as long as you’re with him and willing to do it, he’s all for it

jaehyun would def want kids in the future. wants to dote on them and buy them stuff and whatnot. wants to see them running around the house with laughter while you both struggle to contain the bursts of excitement they have

doesn’t care for the dynamic much. if he’s the one to stay at home to take care of them while you work, he can work with it. if it’s the other way round, he’s okay too

he just worries that if he’s still involved with the entertainment industry, you might have to take a back seat since he’ll be the one earning the money, and he doesn’t want babysitters either.

heart is so so full when he comes back home and you’re just playing with the kids, or singing them to sleep. any sight of you with him is enough to make him melt into a puddle

HAS to hold them even if they’re asleep. wants to always have them close to him while he nudges you to shower or get the food ready.

like jaehyun, he would wanna meet someone in a vinyl shop or bookstore. he knows it’s cliched but the thought of meeting someone when you’re buying something is exciting. anything unexpected for him, he welcomes it

the next few are just random, miscellaneous headcanons: he likes to see you in his clothes, preferably with nothing underneath. just his shirt lol. cheeky man

jaehyun likes it when you shower together (again, nothing sexual, just likes the domesticity)

likes it when you fall asleep on him

will never stop gushing about you to his parents, first time you met them they’re like “he’s told us so much about you!” and he really did

feels comfortable in your presence, no makeup, messy hair, no need for a perfect bod. he’s just jaehyun. jung yuno if you will

adores it when you call him “lover” i mean boyfriend is good, significant other is good, but lover is just chef’s kiss

it is a bit cheesy if you think about it, so it’s not often that you say it. when you do say it in songs when you’re singing it to him, he can’t stop smiling

plays lover, you should’ve come over when he’s on tour bc it’s the closest thing he can get to a replica of how he feels for you

and when jaehyun falls asleep to the song, all he can remember is your honey voice singing it to him. he’ll just have to hold onto it before he can see you again

<3

[lunaastoir]

fluff/relationships w the mondstadt crew

characters included: diluc, kaeya, and jean

gn! reader as always <3

tw: fluff??? domesticity??? crack??? ideal relationships w people who will never be real??? also mentions of alcohol!

an: so i’m back w a sequel to my “fluff/relationships w the liyue crew” since you guys seemed to really like it <3 thank you my heart is literally melting 😩 this post was getting too long so i excluded some of the characters but expect a part. 2 (more like part 3 but part 2 to the mondstadt version)! 

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diluc

man. this MAN.

that’s it, that’s the headcanon. 

he would literally be the most doting lover in the softest ways

SUCH a soft romantic like you thought you knew love??? nah this man will show you what love is

will constantly leave you things around the winery to convey his silent thank you’s and appreciation for you putting up with him being busy for most of the day

it’s always the most thoughtful things ever too like-

you mentioned how nice it would be to have some fresh lemonade with the hotter weather outside but it was too late in the day to actually go to the market in search of fresh lemons 

the next day you walked downstairs only to be greeted with a pitcher of cool lemonade with a side of lemon bars

there was a note attached to the handle of the pitcher <3 

“i recall you mentioning how lemonade would be perfect for the warmer weather so i decided to make some for you this morning. i hope it’s still cool by the time you drink it. love, d” 

pls sir your hand in marriage

he secretly loves it when you usher him to bed after waking up in the dead of night to see him working by candlelight on reports 

soft hands on his cheeks gently whispering about how, it’s been far too long and come to bed, darling and there will be time for this in the morning

his protests are light given the dark purple hues under his crimson eyes but he’ll still make a little fuss 

don’t let this man fool you tho he’s so so touched that you care enough to check up on him and drag him to bed!!

sometimes on the days he has a bit more free time, the two of you will quickly grab your dinners and race to the highest spot in the winery to watch the setting sun

these moments are always filled with laughter, something you’ve found you’re easily able to pull out of diluc, simply because it’s you 

uncontrollable sobbing

he would let you paint his nails black like the angsty man he is 

frankly he would let you do anything to him if it makes you happy <3 

ok but wait diluc w bLACK NAILS?? AND RINGS??? i would die on the spot ⚰️

on the topic of makeup, this man is surprisingly really good w it 

i like to think he learned after practicing on kaeya when they were younger bc kaeya was really into makeup

you found out after babysitting klee one day and trying failing to draw eyeliner on the sweet girl after her “big brother ‘bedo!”

you hastily grabbed some wipes, gently wiping off the messed up design before attempting to dive back in 

diluc however, had some down time so he decided to check up on his favorite chaotic duo 

only to be met with a pile of dirtied makeup wipes, your frustrated expression, and klee’s growing jitteriness 

swiftly moving to your side, he quietly asked if you needed help 

you glanced up quizzically before handing him the eyeliner, already looking around to find more makeup wipes when this inevitably goes wrong 

to your utter surprise tho the eyeliner is perfect??? two perfect winged lines??? in less than a minute??? WHAT

you just stood there like 😦 before diluc got back up and handed you the eyeliner 

you were short-circuiting, klee was ecstatic, diluc was worried about you 

ok last thing abt diluc 

crack! warning but the both of you like lowkey pranking kaeya 

for diluc it’s revenge on his annoying brother; for you it’s good - natured sibling rivalry fun 

every time the two of you see kaeya, one of you always swipes something of his 

small things really, it could be a pen or a handkerchief

one time, diluc swiped kaeya’s spare eyepatch and from the looks of it, kaeya’s only spare black eyepatch bc he was frantically looking for it yk he’s desperate when he even asked diluc if he saw it

the two of you spent an hour nearly laughing your asses off 

all in all, life w him is so sweet 

kaeya

pretty boy? pretty boy. 

while i can’t guarantee stability, life would never be boring w this man that’s for sure

piggy back rides 🗣 piggy back rides 🗣 piggy back rides 

he LOVES it, the feel of you on his back while he’s walking around mondstadt most likely carrying you to your commission 

he finds it comforting especially since he can hear the rumble of your voice against him while you recount stories, or just babble on about everything under the sun 

he is SO dramatic so obviously when y’all reach the site of the commission he has to kill all the monsters even tho the both of you agreed to split it up evenly 

he makes quick work of his set before stealing some of yours much to your chagrin 

you scold him but can you really be mad at him when he looks drop dead gorgeous freezing the hilichurls the answer is no, no you cannot be

oh my god ok wait-

he does this thing where he tries to spook you in public 

so say you’re getting groceries at the mondstadt general store

you round the corner just minding your own business, looking around, taking in the sunshine 

and suddenly you just hear someone drop in behind you but before you can register anything you hear a soft “boo” and hands circle your waist 

you jump SIKE let’s be honest you shrieked 

meanwhile kaeya’s just laughing his ass off 

you can hear his rich peals of laughter while you attempt to regain your bearings 

he does this so often you SHOULD be used to it but you really aren’t bc mans is SNEAKY-

he cards his fingers in your hair whenever you’re speaking 

he doesn’t know why, it’s just a cute habit and he finds the feel of his fingers in your hair soothing

oH on the topic of comfort, kaeya really likes resting two fingers on the back of your neck???

ik he seems like the type to throw his arm around your shoulder which yes he totally is but during more serious conversations his hand automatically seeks out the warmth of your neck 

your neck feels amazing especially during the warmer months due to his chilly fingers contrasting with your warm skin  

he likes that he’s able to access such a vulnerable part of you and you would willingly let him 

HE GETS YOU MATCHING OUTFITS

no i will NOT take criticism on this i just kNOW he’s that type of guy

it would be those stupid “i’m his” and “they’re mine” sweatshirts like BYE 

it’s so cringy but for some reason it’s oddly adorable and you truly despise it but you can’t seem to say no whenever he asks 

you pretend to ignore the look of pity diluc throws your way whenever he sees you like this

kaeya really loves accessories so i think he would be the type to give you a promise ring or something similar to show that he truly does care for you 

he would brush it off, flirting a little like usual before handing you the ring 

with the way his cheeks softly darken though, you know he’s being genuine 

TICKLE FIGHTS ik i mentioned this for childe but shhhh

he has tickle fingers??? his hands just loOK like they’re itching to tickle someone so you’ll most likely be the unfortunate victim 

he will not show you mercy. at all. he’ll tickle you until there are tears streaming from your eyes, your face is hot, and your voice is hoarse from laughing so damn hard 

it gives him such a rush of serotonin its SO CUTE 

i feel like this goes without saying but he’s super into pda,,, anything and everything is on the table 

hand holding? duh. ass grabs? ofc. carrying you bridal style around mondstadt? why not 

ik he’s typically very playful but once the relationship reaches a certain stage, he’ll slowly start to let down the walls that surround his facade 

very very slowly show you the more realistic parts of him 

the real, damaged pieces of his soul 

he’ll be carefully monitoring your reaction though, any sign of fear or disgust will have him recoiling within himself again and you most likely will never see his true nature ever again 

SO BE CAREFUL 👹

once you’ve seen the parts of him he’s offered to you, the hushed whispers of his past, and the uncertain lines of his future, he will take off his eyepatch 

pretends like he’s not super nervous but he’s SWEATING- 

the prettiest thing you’ve ever seen though hands down 

you can understand why he covers it up but you would like it if he felt comfortable enough to take off the eyepatch occasionally when he’s with you 

also!!! sleeps with his eyepatch side facing you (in the event he wears it to bed) 

if this happens you KNOW he trusts you bc it’s his blindside <3 

anyways life w kaeya will never be boring but he is a very complicated man 

stay with him though, i promise it’ll be worth it 

jean

the key to jean’s heart is coffee and food 

GET HER COFFEE AND FOOD

i am begging you she deserves it 😭

the poor woman works so hard bc the knights are so mf understaffed, this is literally the best way you can ever show her your love and appreciation when she has work

she will MELT if you have a hot shower and dinner waiting for her when she inevitably returns later than she promised

will completely refuse at first with, “you did not have to do this, it’s too much” but shush her as you shOULD bc she deserves the entire world 

she’s the definition of “you do something for me, i’ll return the favor ten times grander”

you leave a flower on her desk bc it reminded you of her??? you’ll wake up to find a whole bouquet of the prettiest windwheel asters you’ve ever seen the next morning along with a thank you note

she’s so sweet BYE

she gets flustered extremely easily so you obviously use this as an opportunity to tease her 

when you’re in public rest your hand on her waist and inch it higher until your hand is underneath her shirt and in contact with her warm skin 

she’ll actually short-circuit its quite adorable 

sometimes y’all will be cuddling and you’ll hear whispers of her insecurities 

“am i a good grand master? will i ever be as valiant as vanessa?”

reassure her!!! tell her that she doesn’t need to be like vanessa, she’s already amazing as jean 

if you haven’t seen her in awhile, track her down and schedule a lunch date 

she never misses appointments and if it’s for you, she’ll gladly make time to see you even if she has to stay up even later than usual 

OH-

GIVE HER MASSAGES 

she has so much tension and the sorest muscles from hunching over papers and running around on errands 

if you sneak into her office and quietly stand behind her before gently pushing down on the sore tendons of her neck, she’ll genuinely fall over on her desk 

so make sure you steady her 😀

after you feel how tight her muscles are though, you drag her to barbara bc she needs a healer asap 😭

while most of your time is spent in her office - you helping out in the ways you can while jean is overseeing knight duties - you still have your fair share of life outside of the favonius headquarters

jean never likes to sit still so whenever you have free time, the both of you head off looking for monsters to clear

bouken da bouken???

adventuring w jean is seriously the funnest thing you could ever do 

it’s just non-stop you accidentally getting into trouble and her having to come help you 

even tho the both of you are dead tired after fighting, what? 20 hilichurl camps now??? the laughter and joy in your eyes shows how you both truly loved every minute of it

it’s both a stress reliever, good fun, and a work-out <3

you’re definitely prone to getting dragged to angel’s share w kaeya 

kaeya and jean sometimes hang out after work at the tavern so inevitably you’re dragged along too 

all three of you are drunk out of your minds which just makes everything a MILLION times funnier 

kaeya slurring over his words makes the two of you start cackling endlessly while diluc just shakes his head making sure to not give you more wine despite your pleas 

angel’s share ft. kaeya and bartender diluc are always the best times fr fr 

life with her literally feels like y’all are married 

so much domesticity it’s so NICE ALJDKSFH

your house is always so clean and the color scheme is impeccable bc jean has such a good eye 

you have a chore schedule 😎 but it almost never works out bc jean ends up doing everything without you knowing- 

you always confront her abt it and she’s like 😁 “i had some time so i did them! no worries tho” like i- time??? where bitc-

oH- she has amazing style so you can bet shopping w her is literally the best experience 

she takes you to all of the hidden gems some places lisa recommended and helps you pick out things 

will 100% get really blushy if you come out in something and ask her for her opinion tho she’s literally the cutest

basically jean is a sweet girl who deserves the entirety of teyvat that is all. 

thanks for reading! if you have any requests don’t hesitate to send them in <3 

[blu-joons]

Dates With The Boyz ~ The Boyz Headcanon

Sangyeon:

Sangyeon will love to take you out late at night just as the city begins to die down

He’ll be big on driving to wherever your date is too, with the music turned up as high as it can be in the car

On special occasions, he’ll surprise you in the car with songs that he’s written himself just for you

The majority of your dates are outside, Sangyeon isn’t one for sitting around and doing nothing on a date

Whenever the two of you do something sporty, he can’t help but get a little competitive and try to win

At the end of every date, he will always make sure that he drives you right to the front of your door like a proper gentleman

His car will have a bag just for snacks that the two of you can enjoy when you’re driving to or from a date

Other times the snacks and the music will be specifically for your date, just driving around the city and exploring

Jacob:

Jacob will love to take you to music events around the city to enjoy the sounds and the vibe

He’ll often find himself getting inspired by different bands and how they play their instruments as well

Nothing makes him happier than when he looks across at you and sees your foot tapping along to the song

Whenever a guitarist comes on, he’ll love to assure you that he can play the guitar much better than they can

He’ll be big on inviting friends or family along to and making the evenings a really social event

Before or after the gig, Jacob will always make sure to take you out for food and ensure you look after yourself

At the end of the night, he’ll love to buy the band tees too to keep hold of to remember your dates together

A whole rail of his wardrobe ended up being filled with tees from the various events that that the two of you attended

Younghoon:

A lot of planning goes into a date with Younghoon, he likes to make every one of them special

He’s not huge on massive and outlandish dates as they always make him incredibly shy

Your perfect date together is usually spent with a movie or two lined up and plenty of snacks to indulge with

Younghoon will always let you pick out the movie as he’s never too fussy about what he watches

Even though he’s shy, he’ll love to cuddle you nice and close whilst you watch the film and make sure he can show off his body

If the two of you aren’t in the mood for a movie, then Younghoon will set up his console ready for a games night

You always see a different side to him when gaming, the shyness disappears, and his competitive streak comes out

Either way, the two of you are always nice and cosy, often in the comfort of your own home too

Hyunjae:

Jaehyun will love to take you out on physical dates, anything sporty where he can let go of all of his energy

The two of you can usually be found playing crazy golf or bowling, anything that Jaehyun can try and beat you at

He loves to tease you whenever he wins, or if you mess up a shot, he’ll be there to rub it in your face

Whenever the two of you sit down on a date, you can tell how much he hates it, often nagging you to move again

If you can’t do something, he’ll love to step up and show you what to do with his arms wrapped around you

On the off chance that you’re lucky enough to beat him, he’ll always cry out for a rematch to prove his athleticism

There is one thing that can be a guarantee though, Jaehyun will always have you laughing, whatever your date is

You often end up having to pull the equipment out of his hands as it gets dark so that you can get home

Juyeon:

Juyeon loves to take you out on little adventures so that you can explore new parts of the city and its outskirts

You know that Juyeon loves nature, so when he lets you know you’re off for a walk, it never comes as a surprise

He’ll often organise a small picnic for the two of you too to make sure that it’s nice and romantic as well

Sometimes the two of you will walk for hours if you find a good enough spot, letting Juyeon enjoy the quiet

Although you love adventuring, a small part of him will often worry that his walks aren’t what you enjoy

And so, he’ll try and split dates so that they’re equal between the things that he wants to do, and the things that you want to do

His picnic basket will often be filled with a lot of your favourite foods so that you can see how much he cares

The two of you always make sure to take plenty of photos too whenever you find an aesthetic spot on your walk

Kevin:

Kevin loves to cook for you before anything else on a date and show you just how talented he is in the kitchen

Whenever you’re let into the dorm, you are always instantly greeted by the smell of something delicious cooking

If the two of you have the time, Kevin will love to cook together and enjoy making a mess in the kitchen

He’s far too much of a jokester to ever let the two of you cook seriously, always winding you up and playing pranks

To be honest, when the two of you cook together, you’re not even completely sure whether what you’ve made is edible

Kevin will be very protective of his kitchen, and any expensive tools that he has will be strictly off limits

He can’t help but feel proud whenever you enjoy what he’s made, murmuring in delight opposite him

If there’s leftovers, he always makes sure that you take it home to make sure you eat well tomorrow too

New:

Just like Kevin, Chanhee will love to cook for you, however he will take cooking a lot more seriously than Kevin

He’ll love to invite you round for a meal, making sure that the table is decorated nicely with a soft atmosphere in the room

Chanhee works hard to make sure that he learns all of your favourite foods to learn good recipes to treat you with

Whilst you always protest that you’ll wash up, he always makes you leave it for him to do the following day

Once you’re well fed by Chanhee, he’ll take you to lay down and watch a movie or a series that you’re in the middle of

He’s wary about doing too much in public, so dinner and a movie is a good way of keeping you protected

Even though you like to try and cook for Chanhee too, it never compares to what he cooks for you

As with Kevin, he’ll always make sure any leftovers are taken by you so that you don’t have to worry about meals the following day

Q:

The two of you never have a pattern for your dates, your open to trying just about everything with each other

Your dates tend to depend on how busy you are, the weather, and what availability there is around the city

Some dates you’ll be chill and stay at home doing your own thing and keeping things nice and cosy

Other times you’ll be out exploring the city doing something physical and most likely exhausting too

Little planning goes into your dates, it depends on the mood you’re both in whenever you decide to set a time for a date

The spontaneity is your favourite part of dates with Changmin, you never really know what to expect from him

But you can guarantee whatever it is that you do, you’ll always go home with a smile on your face

Even though he doesn’t always know what his plans are for a date, Changmin always manages to get them right to what you need

Juhaknyeon:

Haknyeon will love to take you to shows, whether it’s concerts, musical theatre, or a theatre play

The art school student still lives on in him, and he loves to show you all of his favourite shows and passions

You’ll often come to his place to see a pair of tickets on the table, letting you know that he’s booked for another show

Before every show he will always make sure to take you out for dinner too to make a proper date night of things

Haknyeon is very particular about his food so he’ll make sure to take you to the best nearby restaurant that he can find

He loves getting tickets to new shows almost as soon as they go on sale so that the two of you can see them before anyone else has

Haknyeon always makes sure to keep the tickets from events too so that he can scrapbook them altogether

Eventually one day he plans to gift you something creative with all of the tickets that the two of you have collected

Sunwoo:

Sunwoo loves to create cosy and intimate date nights for the two of you to spend together in your own company

His favourite cosy dates definitely include a movie and plenty of snacks that sit in between the two of you

Quite often Sunwoo will end up falling asleep on you midway through the movie if he’s hard a particularly long day

Whenever you arrive, there’s always a massive pile of blankets with your name on ready to be bundled underneath

He always makes sure to pick a movie that you’ll enjoy, that’s always the most important thing for Sunwoo

Grand gestures aren’t Sunwoo’s thing on dates, he much prefers to enjoy the smaller and more intimate moments

He’ll have specific cushions and blankets that he keeps for when you come over, knowing exactly what your favourites are

If anyone dares interrupts you both as well, Sunwoo will quickly make sure that they’re not welcome for your movie night

Eric:

Youngjae loves to do something sporty, whilst not necessarily physical and competitive between the two of you

One of his personal favourites will be to take you skating, being able to hold onto your hand and enjoy the breeze as you fly around the rink

You much prefer when the two of you go dancing, any excuse to get a little bit closer to Youngjae

Whatever it is that the two of you do, you much prefer a sport that you can do as a team and rely upon each other

The most important thing is that the two of you enjoy yourselves, neither of you care about winning or losing

You love to challenge yourselves with new things too, if there’s something you’ve not tried before, you’ll give it a go

But for Youngjae, nothing will ever compare to the skate rink, just like nothing will compare to the dancefloor for you

By the end of the night the two of you are laughing over each other’s mistakes that you’ve made through the night

---

Masterlist

[mirohtron]

in the end (it does matter)

—

anonymous asked: Can you make a part 2 to lonely?👁👁

@sweet-sinner69 (tumblr pls let me tag them) @why-am-i-on-this-website-anyway and @selectivegeekwithstandards also requested for a part 2 hello im sorry for the tag but i spent four days on this i will not let my work go unseen /lh

first part here.

—

They didn't know how it exactly happened, but one second they were on the floor of their apartment, sobbing, begging hero to not hurt them, and then next they were sitting in the booth of a McDonald's, patched up as good as hero could do.

Plasters covered some cuts on villain's hands, the ones that hadn't scabbed over yet, and underneath their sweater, the gash on their arm was firmly wrapped with bandages.

It all happened too fast; villain's mind had been going a mile a minute, and hero had to calm them down and promise they wouldn't hurt them, and, in an attempt to not stay alone with hero and get kidnapped somehow, villain had requested they go outside. More like beg. Unprompted.

That was why hero was in their apartment in the first place, right? To get villain to hero's base? Or maybe eliminate them? Villain couldn't stomach that. Being in their room with hero had been near-asphyxiating, and villain's agency had told them time and time again that the heroes wouldn't hesitate to eliminate villains.

It was why they'd brought the two of them to the mall and made hero sit in a McDonald's booth with them. There were people. A lot of people. Hero wouldn't try to kidnap them in here, hopefully. Probably. They looked professional, trained for this. They wouldn't try anything that could harm civillians.

Something in villain's chest twisted. Something regretful, something pained.

They wished they were one of those civillians.

"Do you wanna order?" hero asked gently, hands at their sides and under the table.

Villain opened their mouth to answer, but their breath caught in their throat. Did they? They didn't know if they had an appetite or not, and eating with hero could still risk being sedated and taken to hero's base.

Their left hand furled into a fist.

"I—I don't have any money," they finally answered, voice a little raw. They'd forgotten to pick up their wallet in their hurry to toss their sweater on, not wanting to risk any stranger worrying about their bandaged arm. People were too kind sometimes, and even if that societal trait could help somebody, villain didn't want to risk anything.

"That's fine," hero assured, "I don't mind a little spending. Do you wanna check out the menu?"

Villain swallowed. They didn't realise their answer could count as a "yes."

Their gaze locked onto some part of the table between them, debating.

"...how did you get in?" villain asked instead. The question had been prodding their mind even before they had realised it was hero they were crying to. Were they that horrible at keeping their location a secret? Wouldn't that mean other heroes knew their location, too? What about villains?

Their blood ran cold.

"One of my colleagues placed a track you."

If possible, their blood ran colder.

"What?"

"They're a telepath," hero explained, seemingly not noticing villain's internal panic, "they put a tracker of sorts on you. Your location was determined from that."

Villain's throat felt parched. Did that mean the telepath could read their mind? Could they read their mind right now?

Some salty taste settled in the back of their mouth. They felt horribly seen. It was uncomfortable.

"Is it still on me?"

"No." Hero shook their head. "They took it off once we learned of your location."

"Oh." Villain looked at the few plasters on their knuckles. Maybe hero was lying, maybe the tracker was still on them. But they couldn't be sure. Hero hadn't tried anything malicious yet, they didn't look like they'd even hurt villain right now.

Perhaps it was because there were civillians here. They looked at one of the tiny scabs on their skin. Hero had hurt them in fights before, what would stop them from hurting villain later? What if they got home, and hero was there to beat them bloody?

They felt a little sick.

"Hey," hero said after a moment. Villain looked up, and they couldn't see a hint of malevolance in their expression. Hero looked a little guilty, on the contrary.

Hero glanced at villain's knuckles. "I—I didn't... know you were so scared. Of me." They looked at villain's knuckles again, brows furrowing, swallowing. "I was—I didn't... I'm sorry."

"Don't be."

Hero pursed their lips. They looked like they wanted to say something else, like they wanted to protest against villain's words, like they should be sorry, but instead they nodded, looking down at their lap.

Villain pressed the tips of their fingers up against their palm as the silence between them grew heavy.

"Why were you in my bed?" they asked next.

"You pulled me."

"...what?"

"I was expecting you to be awake," hero said, "but you were asleep. Then you, uhm, you pulled me. To the bed. I didn't want to wake you because you looked tired."

Villain pulled their hands to themself, wanting to look smaller. "Oh."

Who does that? Villain wanted to hold their head in their hands. Of course, their touch starved self would do that. Of course, since they hadn't had a nice touch in a long time, their sleeping state would want someone. They wanted to ask how long hero was stuck like that, hoping that maybe they awoke soon after, but instead,

"Why were you sent?"

that came out.

Hero laughed, like they were nervous. "I wanted to talk to you about that, actually," they said, looking them in the eye, "after you'd eaten something. I wanted you to be a little more relaxed."

Oh. Villain's breath hitched. No one really thought about their comfort anymore. They weren't expecting their archenemy to.

Tears pricked at the corner of their eyes, but villain desperately blinked them away. Oh.

Hero didn't seem to notice. They shifted in their seat, putting their hands on the table. "They told me you were harmless," they said, "after my colleague took away the mental track, they... We know it was an invasion of privacy, but."

Villain's stomach hollowed out. They read their mind, didn't they? Villain supposed they had to. Of course they would, if they were given the opportunity. All they knew was that villain was some spiteful nobody.

"You don't want to be a villain, do you?" they asked, searching villain's face for something.

Villain bit their bottom lip to stop it from quivering. They shook their head, fingers digging into the leather of their seat. They absolutely didn't. They'd choose to be a civillian over a villain over and over again, if they could.

"They said you couldn't handle it."

"I can't." Villain sniffled dryly, looking away. When had they started crying again? "I really can't."

"It'll be okay," hero said gently, "we want to take you in. For reforming. Do you want in?"

Villain's gaze snapped back up. Reforming?

They searched hero's face, looking for a lie. They hoped hero wasn't lying. Hero wouldn't lie about this, right?

The agency had always told them that heroes wouldn't want anything to do with villains. Maybe the agency was lying. They had to be, because otherwise hero would have taken villain out the second they'd laid their eyes on them, right?

A sob broke their throat, and hero had rounded the table and was by their side in an instant, holding them close and stroking their hair. Reforming? Could they be safe as a civillian now?

"I don't wanna get murdered in a dirty street corner," they said quietly, hiding in hero's neck again. They sniffled, fingers clutching their shirt desperately.

"I know, we’ll handle that for you," hero said, rubbing circles on their back soothingly, "I suppose that's a yes?"

Villain nodded, sobbing harder somehow. "It is," they said, "it's a yes."

They wouldn't have to hurt people anymore. That was good. It would be fine. 

Hero told them it would be alright, that they'd just done what they needed to to get by, that they could leave villainy behind, and that the butterfly effect wouldn't be cruel to them anymore. Bad things wouldn't pile up anymore, and they wouldn't have to use their powers to hurt ever again.

“Do you wanna order?“

“Yeah.“

In the end, they got a free McDonald's meal and a lot of nice touch.

[calwrites]

Fearless

Prequel to Don’t You

Pairing: Sebastian Stan x reader

Word count: 4.5k

————————

“Looks like it finally stopped raining.”

The murmur of the coffee shop was replaced by the sounds of the city as you followed Sebastian outside. The humidity seemed to hit you like a truck, making you miss the air conditioning you had just left.

“Finally. I thought I was going to be stuck in that coffee shop with you forever.” You laughed at the faux offended look on Sebastian’s face. “That’s what I get for not checking the weather.”

“Next time I’ll let you wait out the rain by yourself,” Sebastian threatened. His grin made the corners of his eyes crinkle a bit. Had they always done that? Had you just never noticed before?

“At least then I won’t have a bunch of teenage girls taking pictures of me the whole time. They’re scary. How do you deal with that all the time?” It had been disconcerting to have the group of girls staring at you and Sebastian as you sat and chatted. For a moment, you had thought you were crazy when you noticed them looking. The first thought you had was that you had something on your face or needed to fix your hair, but you realized why they were so focused on your table when they walked over to ask Sebastian for pictures.

Sebastian let out a sigh as he shrugged. For a second you were worried that you had said something wrong. “I just try to ignore it most of the time. I’m polite if they come up to me. I’d rather they like me than hate me.”

“I’m sure you have lots of stories. You’ll have to tell me sometime.” Your eyes widened when you realized what you’d said. What if he didn’t want to see you again? “I mean, if you’re staying in the city long. I’m sure you’re really busy.”

“I’ve got some promo to do soon, but I’m not filming again for a few months. I wanted a bit of the break.” Sebastian waved his hand. “Let’s not talk about my work. What about you? You taking the business world by storm?”

“Well I did just get a raise, so now I can almost afford my rent, groceries, and student loans.” The joys of living in New York City.

“Ah sounds like everything’s going well then. Are your parents still around?” Your parents had basically fallen in love with Sebastian when they first met him freshman year. A group of your friends had come over to your house for a movie night and Sebastian had insisted on staying to help you clean up after everyone else had left. Your mom had spent the next few weeks not so subtly dropping hints that she thought you should date him.

 “Yeah they’re still in Jersey. They tried to convince me to move in with them, but I told them I didn’t want to have to commute into the city every day. Of course, that set them off about how that’s what they’ve been doing my whole life because they didn’t want me growing up without a yard or whatever.”

“So it sounds like they haven’t changed much?” You shook your head slightly to force yourself to stop watching Sebastian as he laughed.

“No they have not.” You bumped your shoulder against Sebastian’s gently. “They’re your number one fans, you know.”

“Oh they are?” His eyebrows raised in surprise, and he was already fighting a smile, no doubt waiting to hear what embarrassing things your parents had done since high school graduation.

“They see all of your movies in theaters.” Multiple times, but you didn’t want Sebastian to think they were weirdos.

“Even the bad ones?”

“Even the bad ones. I did tell them that they aren’t allowed to buy any of the Bucky dolls.”

“They’re action figures.”

You rolled your eyes, but found yourself matching Sebastian’s smile anyway. “Whatever. It’d be weird seeing a mini version of you at my parents’ house. It’s bad enough that they still have a bunch of high school pictures hung up.”

“My mom does too. She’s going to be so excited when I tell her that I ran into you. You were always her favorite of our group.”

You stopped suddenly, grabbing Sebastian’s arm. He looked a little alarmed, but you ignored it. “Are you serious? I was always so scared of her. This is the best day of my life.” You had met Sebastian’s mom a couple of times throughout high school, but had never been able to tell whether or not she liked you.

“Scared of her? Why? Because of the accent?”

“The accent didn’t help, but really it was because she’s hot. That makes her intimidating.”

Sebastian groaned and pulled a face. “No. You can’t think my mom is hot. That’s not allowed. Take it back or I’m sending your parents all of the Bucky dolls I can find.”

“It’s not like I wanted to bang her or anything. I just think that she’s an attractive woman. Which makes sense considering how attractive you are.” Your mouth snapped shut. You weren’t sure who was blushing more, you or Sebastian. “Let’s forget about this whole conversation.” Sebastian laughed slightly and nodded.

It was silent between you two as you continued your walk through the streets. You weren’t really sure where he was going. You were heading to your car, but you couldn’t tell if Sebastian was also going somewhere or if he was just following you. If you had looked up, you would have noticed that Sebastian was watching you carefully. But you didn’t look up. Your eyes were on the pavement, watching the glow of the lights in the reflection from the rain.

“Do you remember that poster that was in our English class freshman year?” you asked suddenly. Sebastian’s brow crinkled slightly as he tried to remember, but then he followed your gaze to the glowing pavement and smiled.

“Life isn’t about waiting for the storm to pass. It’s about learning to dance in the rain.” The two of you laughed slightly as you remembered your slightly eccentric teacher. “We made fun of that poster so much.”

“It was a stupid poster. But remember it was raining when we were leaving the homecoming dance freshman year and we started dancing in the parking lot-”

“And all of our friends thought we were crazy,” Sebastian finished. “To be fair, we were crazy. That was probably the most fun part of the dance though.”

“Are you saying that I was a bad date?” You gasped and brought your hand up to your mouth as if Sebastian had offended you. Both of you dissolved into giggles.

“I’m saying that I was probably a bad date. I was so awkward. I had such a big crush on you.” Sebastian rubbed his neck uncomfortably. You definitely didn’t notice how the action made his arms look.

“Wait really?” This was news to you. You had always kind of assumed that Sebastian didn’t like you very much. He had always seemed to just tolerate your presence.

“Oh yeah. All the guys used to make fun of me because I got so awkward around you. That’s why I never talked when you were with us.”

“I just thought you were shy or something.” Or that he secretly hated you.

“Well that too,” Sebastian admitted with a small grin.

“You should have just told me. I had a crush on you too. I was so excited when you asked me to the dance.” You were so engrossed in conversation that you almost walked right past your car. “Oh, this is me.”

“Oh.” Was it your imagination or did Sebastian look disappointed? Before you could figure it out, he was smiling again. “It’s been nice catching up. We should hang out again. You still have the same number?”

You assured Sebastian that you did and the two of you exchanged more pleasantries. After sliding into your car, you watched Sebastian continue down the street. The memory of the two of you dancing wildly in the parking lot while the rest of your friends complained about the rain made you smile. You kind of wished you had asked him to dance again.

————————

Part of you already wished that this weekend would never end, even though it had barely even begun. You had finally made it out of the city and still had a couple hours of driving left, but you were already dreading having to go back into the office on Monday.

You and Sebastian had been hanging out more since running into each other last month. Most of the time, you got away without any pictures of the two of you getting out, but recently that had been getting harder and harder to do. Now, through what you could only assume was some sort of social media stalking witchcraft, people had managed to figure out who you were. The hundreds of notifications had freaked you out at first, but after deleting all of the social media apps from your phone, it was totally not a big deal.

Until your coworkers had found out. Some magazine had printed a picture of you and Sebastian, including your name underneath it, so now everyone at the office was either making fun of you by pretending to take paparazzi pictures whenever you walked into a room or constantly asking about Sebastian. Needless to say, you desperately needed this weekend away.

“Hungry eyes,” Sebastian sang, rather poorly though you suspected that was on purpose. You had seen him in musicals in high school. He half turned towards you, reaching out with one hand while the other stayed on the wheel, as he continued to sing along to the music. “One look at you and I can’t disguise these-”

“Keep your eyes on the road,” you scolded, though you couldn’t help but laugh at his bad attempt to hit a high note. “You know, I was worried that you would get us killed at the cabin, but now I know you’re going to get us killed before we even make it there. And stop caressing my hair.” You slapped his hand away for emphasis.

He reached out again to run a hand down your hair. “I am not caressing your hair-”

“Definitely were.”

“-and I am not going to get us killed. We are going to have a nice relaxing weekend at a cabin that I rented and am graciously letting you stay at without paying me back. And we aren’t going to worry about paparazzi or annoying coworkers or random people on the street with cell phones.” There may have been a incident earlier that week where you had almost gone up to a random person in the street to yell at them about taking pictures of you and Sebastian. It turned out they were just a lost tourist who barely spoke English. That was when Sebastian decided that you needed a vacation too.

“I think I’m paying you back by forcing myself to spend time with you. You’re very hard to get along with. Plus, I have no money for vacations. We can’t all be actors in Marvel movies.” The trees blurred by as Sebastian drove down the highway.

“You know, I could probably get you in the next Captain America movie. You might not have any lines, but you could stand in the background.” Had he ever offered any of your other friends from high school roles in his movies? No, you couldn't let yourself get caught up in these kinds of questions.

“Sebastian, thanks again-”

“Stop! I told you to stop thanking me-”

“Thanks again,” you continued loudly, “for inviting me. I know that you were looking forward to a relaxing weekend away before you have press stuff. If you want, we don’t have to talk to each other. I don’t want to ruin your relaxation.”

Sebastian shifted uncomfortably in his seat at your thanks, but then shot you an incredulous look. “How would you ruin my relaxation? I wouldn’t have invited you if I didn’t want to spend time with you.”

“Promise?”

Sebastian sent you a smile that was so full of warmth that you could have melted right there. You were definitely getting caught up now. You tried to snap yourself out of it by thinking about all of the reasons you could never date Sebastian. First, he was Sebastian. He knew what you looked like when you were young and awkward. He had seen the awful bangs you cut yourself sophomore year. Second, he was Sebastian Stan. Surely he’d never date a nobody like you. Not that he was stuck up now. He was surprisingly similar to how he had been in high school. It’s just, he could date models if he wanted to. You were definitely not a model. And you wouldn’t even want to date someone in the spotlight like him. Third, you had been on like two dates with the skeazy guy from accounting. If you ignored most of what he said, he was only a little skeazy. Barely tolerable really. You could work with that.

But then Sebastian ran his hand through his hair, and you had to bite your lip to stop yourself from saying anything stupid. Did he know what he was doing or was he just naturally this cool now? Either way, it was going to be a long weekend.

————————

The dance was not fun. Whoever was writing the prom scenes in all of those cheesy movies was full of crap. The decorations looked bad, your dress was uncomfortable, and you were so busy making sure everything was running smoothly that you weren’t even getting to enjoy your senior prom. You never should have agreed to head the prom committee. Surely the night would be more fun if you didn’t have any responsibilities.

Except you’d probably still be standing on the edges of the dancing watching as all of your friends danced with their boyfriends. You had thought that this would finally be the dance you had a boyfriend for, but then your boyfriend broke up with you less than two weeks before because you were spending too much time working on prom. Great. Wonderful.

It had been difficult to mentally prepare yourself to go to senior prom without a date after working so hard on it.  It had seemed almost poetic when Sebastian asked you. The two of you had gone to your first high school dance together and now you were at your last high school dance together.

Except Sebastian had barely talked to you all night. In fact, he had barely even looked at you. At least, that’s what you thought. Sebastian later confessed to you that he was scared he’d get in the way of your prom committee duties so he watched you from afar as you took care of the last minute issues. But you didn’t know that yet.

“Decided to actually acknowledge me?” you snapped when Sebastian leaned against the wall beside you.

Sebastian rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably. He was probably already regretting coming over to talk to you. “I probably deserve that. You just seemed busy.”

“There were a couple of issues that I had to take care of. I still want to enjoy the dance though.”

“So let’s enjoy it.” Sebastian held his hand out to you and nodded to the dance floor. You smiled gratefully at him and took his hand, letting him lead you out.

Neither of you were great dancers, and the dance floor was maybe a little too crowded, but you made the best of it. After bumping into another couple one too many times, you and Sebastian retired back to the wall, perfectly content to watch the others and whisper amongst yourselves.

“So have you had fun tonight?” Sebastian asked. You had, which was surprising considering how badly the night had started out. Sometimes you forgot how well you and Sebastian could get on. It was so rare to talk to him one on one. You really didn’t know how prom could have gone better. You were kind of disappointed that prom was wrapping up. Already, the dance floor had begun emptying as people left for various after parties.

“I did.” Sebastian grinned, obviously pleased with your answer. “But it wasn’t nearly as good as homecoming freshman year.”

Sebastian's smile faded as he tried to recall the dance you were talking about. “Wasn’t that dance really awkward though?”

“Sure the actual dance was,” you shrugged. “But dancing in the parking lot after was one of my favorite high school memories.”

Sebastian threw his head back to laugh, his hand resting on your shoulder to steady himself. “I’ll admit that I’m kind of glad it’s not raining tonight. My mom was not happy that I got my suit wet. But we can still dance like that tonight. There’s plenty of room on the dance floor.”

“Absolutely not,” you scoffed. “We’d look crazy.”

“Everyone here is either our friend or someone who we’ll probably never see again.” Sebastian held his hand out to you. You bit your lip as you considered before meeting his eyes. He raised an eyebrow in challenge.

“Fine.” Sebastian laughed as you took his hand, once again allowing him to drag you onto the dance floor. He was truly fearless in his dancing this time. Obviously you had to follow suit and ignore the looks people were throwing you as you and Sebastian twirled and spun and jumped around. By the time it was time to leave the dance, you both were red faced and breathless with laughter. The sky was perfectly clear as you walked through the parking lot, but part of you wished it was raining so you could once again dance in a storm in your best dress with Sebastian.

————————

“I thought you weren’t talking to me because you didn’t really want to go with me.”

“What?” Sebastian took his eyes off the road quickly to look over at you. “Why would I ask you if I didn’t want to go with you?”

“I don’t know. Maybe our friends told you to since neither of us had dates.”

“You’re crazy. I was so intimidated by you that I didn’t want to get in your way.” You scoffed and started to speak but Sebastian shushed you. “You’ve always been the most impressive person in the room.”

You weren’t entirely sure how to respond to that. Sebastian Stan thought that you were impressive. But what exactly did that mean? That he thought it was neat that you managed to wrangle high school students enough to plan prom? He said ‘you’ve always’ which seemed to imply that he still felt that way. Right? But he was a successful actor. He worked with people way more impressive than you every day.

The thoughts flashed furiously through your head as Sebastian continued to drive slowly through the town. He had certainly achieved his goal to get away from the city. It was hard to believe the small town you’d spent the weekend in was so in the same state as the city. Paparazzi had certainly not been a worry for the two of you. Eventually, the car reached the end of the road. Rather than turning around and heading back into town, Sebastian put the car in park.

“I don’t want to go back,” he sighed. You had to agree with him. You wanted to stay right there. It had been so relaxing to get away from it all. No paparazzi. No fans. No coworkers. Just you and Sebastian. But it couldn’t last. You had work, and Sebastian had interviews.

“So let’s stay here,” you suggested. “We’ll stock up on food and then barricade ourselves in the cabin. We’ll obviously have to defend ourselves when Marvel comes looking for you and my company comes looking for me, but I have complete confidence that we can take them.” Not that you had reached a position in the company where they would notice you were missing. Maybe after a week or two they’d notice something was off. Marvel was sure to be quicker though.

“Ha ha you’ve made your point.” He sighed again. “This has been the best weekend I’ve had in a long time. Thanks for coming with me.”

“Thanks for inviting me.” Your voice sounded small in the sudden stillness of the car. Sebastian’s eyes flickered over your face, going from your eyes to your lips. “What did you mean earlier?”

“About what?”

“When you said that I was always the most impressive person in the room.” You were a little nervous about his answer. There was a good chance you’d made it out to be deeper than he meant. But then you remembered how fearless and free you felt when Sebastian led you out onto the dance floor at prom, and you knew you had to know the answer.

“Exactly that. I’m constantly in awe of you. The way you were the smartest person at school. I mean, I think you’re still the smartest person I know. I don’t understand anything you’re saying when you talk about work. You always knew exactly what to say to diffuse any of our friends’ drama. You’re kind and funny and always keep me on my toes.” Sebastian paused for a moment. You tried to speak, but all you could do was look at his beautiful blue eyes. “Running into you might be the best thing to ever happen to me.”

“Sebastian,” you murmured. Before you could think of anything else to say, Sebastian’s lips were on yours. You smiled into the kiss as you ran your fingers through Sebastian’s hair. It was the perfect length. You tried your best to capture the memory of this moment. The feel of his lips. His hand on your cheek. The faint sound of birds chirping outside. The patter of rain on the car roof. It was all perfect, and you wanted to remember every second of it.

————————

You didn’t know how life could get better than this. Sebastian’s hand was entwined with your own as you walked through the streets. You had been nervous about this at first. What would his fans think? So far they had been curious but benign when it came to you. Hopefully that wouldn’t change now.

You had almost cancelled when Sebastian showed up at your door. A night in suddenly sounded really good. He hadn’t let you though. Instead, Sebastian had grabbed your hand and pulled you out onto the street. You laughed as he twirled you, causing the skirt of your favorite dress to flow out.

“Good thing it’s not raining today,” Sebastian had laughed. “This would be much less enjoyable if we were getting rained on.”

“I don’t know about that. I think we normally have a pretty good time in the rain.”

 You had managed to walk to the restaurant without being spotted, though you had noticed some people taking pictures as you were eating. By the time the bill had been paid, you were more than happy to take Sebastian’s hand and follow him outside. A short walk later and the two of you were strolling around a park eating ice cream on the way back to your apartment.

“So did you have fun tonight?” Sebastian asked.

“I did,” you admitted with a smile. “It was a lot better than I was expecting.”

“Ouch.” Sebastian made a faux wounded expression that ended up making you both laugh. “I didn’t realize you thought I’d be a bad date.”

“It wasn’t you I was worried about. Your fans kind of terrify me. Not gonna lie. I half expected them to show up at the restaurant and start pelting me with rotten fruit or something.”

“That would certainly kill the mood, but I don’t think you have to worry about people throwing fruit at you.”

“No. I just have to worry about what people are going to be saying about me online.”

“Hey, stop.” Sebastian caught your hand and pulled you back to where he had stopped walking. His hands cupped both sides of your face as he looked seriously at you. “It’s going to be ok. Yeah, there are going to be some people who say some mean things. Just ignore it. It’s why I don’t bother with social media much. It doesn’t matter what they say.”

“Easy for you to say. You’re not the one they’re going to accuse of dating someone just to latch onto their fame or money.” Soon after you and Sebastian had started hanging out, the posts about you trying to use Sebastian’s game to get ahead had started. It didn’t really make much sense. Being friends with an actor wasn’t going to get you promoted any sooner. Still, they had annoyed you and sometimes made you feel weird about being around Sebastian.

“I know that you’re not using me. You know that you’re not using me. Everyone that matters will know that you’re not using me. If anything, I’m getting the better end of our relationship. I’m getting to date the most amazing woman ever.”

“Most amazing woman ever?” you repeated. “I’m not sure I have the necessary qualifications for that title.”

“Would you like to hear your qualifications?”

“Yes I would.” You giggled slightly, feeling like a kid with a crush, when Sebastian slung his arm around you and pulled you close so that he could whisper in your ear.

“You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. You are the smartest person I know. You’re kind and funny and you know all of this already because I’ve told you it before.”

“Yeah but I wanted to hear it again.” Your face was so close to Sebastian’s as you whispered back to him that your noses were almost touching. You hardly dared to breathe as your eyes flickered between his eyes and his lips. 

Sebastian just barely started moving closer when you both heard “Is that Sebastian Stan?” coming from a nearby group of people. You jumped back almost immediately, blushing like a kid who was caught holding hands on the playground. Sebastian sent you a small smile before turning to face the fans who had come up to ask for pictures. Once he was finally finished with that, he took your hand again and led you back towards your apartment. Hopefully, no one had gotten a picture of you two in the park about to kiss. Despite what Sebastian had said, you were still scared of what people would say. Your hands shook slightly as you walked, so you slipped your hand out of his, hoping he hadn’t noticed.

Quicker than you would have liked, you were back outside your apartment building. “Do you want to come up?” you asked when he stopped on the sidewalk.

Sebastian shook his head. “I have to be up early tomorrow, and, if I go up, I’m never gonna want to leave.” Sebastian grabbed your hands, which were still shaking, and pulled you close before resting his hands on your hips. “I had a great time tonight.” He smiled, making you feel a bit more brave. This was just Sebastian. The same Sebastian you had known for years growing up.

Slowly, Sebastian brought a hand up to your face, giving you plenty of time to stop him. But you didn’t want to. He was making you feel a bit fearless. You grinned as he kissed you softly. Even though it wasn’t your first kiss, it certainly felt like it. Although technically, it was your first kiss as an official couple. And it was your first kiss out in public, where someone could take a picture that would make its way through the Marvel fandom.

But that didn’t matter to you now. The kiss was flawless. And despite whatever people online were probably already posting about you, you would never regret this moment. Life with Sebastian was undeniably better than life without him. 

————————

tags

@bbl32

[rocorambles]

A Game of Cat and Mouse

Pairing: Iwaizumi x Reader

Genre/Warnings: Cop and Criminal AU (Cop Iwaizumi, Criminal Reader), NSFW, Sex Toys, Degradation, Overstimulation, Bondage

Summary: Bad girls get punished. And criminals who go out of their way to make Iwaizumi’s life hell on a routine basis deserve extra special punishment.

Author’s Note: This is for the NSFW Haikyuu HQ Gifting Event! @multifandhoem I hope you enjoy~ (I really got carried away with the plot in this fic. One day I will learn how to write porn without plot, but for now, please accept my porn with way too much plot.)

Irritating Iwaizumi Hajime might be your favorite activity in the world. There’s just something so satisfying about watching his usually calm and stoic face shatter into an angry feral mess. And maybe, just maybe, something deep in your belly stirs as he growls and snarls at you, something primal in you writhing in excitement as he bares his teeth at you and chases you. 

You’ve lived a life of sins and crimes for as long as you can remember, but hard work has taken you a long way. So really, there isn’t any need for you to continue your petty thieving ways. You’re set for life with the money you’ve accrued from the countless successful exchanges you’ve made. It’s almost obscene just how much people are willing to pay for a few shiny stones or swatches of paint on a canvas. 

And yet you can’t help yourself from revisiting your bad habits of creeping in the shadows, analyzing floor plans, strategizing routes. Only now, your plans are centered around a brooding spiky haired cop with the most beautiful green eyes you’ve ever seen instead of the number of zeros at the end of a number. 

You don’t know exactly what about Iwaizumi resonates so strongly with you. Sure, he’s handsome, but you’ve run into your fair share of handsome officers. You dare say Officer Sawamura could give Iwaizumi a run for his money in the looks department.

Maybe it’s the hints of wildness you see underneath his straight-laced façade. 

Maybe it’s the fire you see blazing behind his reserved countenance.

Whatever it is has you keeping tabs on him, has you concocting plans just sloppy enough for Iwaizumi to get tantalizingly close to you, but put together enough to have you escaping his grasp each and every time. And you cackle at the way his eyes light up when he thinks he has you pinned down, only to furiously scowl at your retreating figure when you taunt him with a flirtatious air kiss and a cheeky “maybe next time, sir”. 

It’s an endless game of cat and mouse, but you don’t think you’ll ever tire of it. And you’re beginning to suspect that even Iwaizumi finds it amusing to a certain degree. 

You had been at a loss for words when the officer had merely trudged into the jewelry store you had been waiting for him in at your last heist, only to casually lean against the wall, folding his arms across his chest as he regarded you holding the store’s most expensive strings of diamonds and pearls in your hands, teasingly holding them up to his face. And you hesitantly lower your arm, unsure what to do as the silence and stillness of the night stretches. 

There’s no growled threats or pointed firearm in your face like there usually would be right about now. And you swear there’s a hint of a smirk on the handsome face across from you as the two of you just stand there, stuck in the strange heady tension filling the air. 

But you almost drop everything you’re holding at Iwaizumi’s next words. 

“If you want my attention that badly, there are better ways of going about it.” 

It’s Iwaizumi’s turn to laugh as your trademark smirk falls off the lower unmasked part of your face and he confidently saunters over to you, strong arms boxing you in against the glass counter, enjoying the rush of power he feels about the tables finally turning as you shyly look anywhere but at him. And something roars triumphantly inside of him when you gasp as he hooks his hand under your chin and forces you to meet him gaze on. 

“I’ve spent the last few months wracking my brain for answers. Why were you suddenly committing so many meaningless robberies? Robberies of stores and items so far beneath your caliber? Was it just coincidence that you were only committing crimes on the routes and nights I was working? Was I just imagining that it seemed like you were actively trying to avoid injuring me every time we clashed? None of it made any sense. But then your stupid flirting started and it made me think that maybe there was some rhyme and reason to your suddenly erratic behavior after all.” 

There’s silence as he lets you register his words and the rattling of jewelry as he plucks the expensive strands out of your hands and carelessly tosses them back in their case. But he softly smiles when you don’t deny his words and make no move to push him away or escape. 

“I believe in new beginnings and fresh starts, so when you’re done with your thieving ways, come find me. I’m curious about the woman under the mask.” 

It’s weeks before you have the courage to even secretly trail after Iwaizumi again after that encounter and even then, you don’t do anything but keep watch over him. 

His words echo in your mind and you don’t have the urge to steal and ring an alarm to beckon him towards you. Not when the greatest treasure of all is just within your grasp whenever you’re ready to summon the will to finally reveal your identity and meet him person to person in broad daylight instead of slithering around each other in the twisted tango of cop and criminal. 

But you aren’t ready yet and you merely keep tabs on him for now, curiosity and protectiveness getting the better of you, and if Iwaizumi notices the moving shadow that seems to follow him wherever he goes, he doesn’t bring attention to it. There’s something comforting, maybe even endearing, about how you’ve become a guardian angel of sorts to him, especially with the increasing body count and grizzly crimes being committed. And although he wishes you were safe and sound, tucked far away from the ricocheting bullets and corpses, his heart warms at the bouquet of lilies he finds on his doorsteps when he stumbles back home, empty and defeated, the weight of his partner’s death from a particularly bloody shootout still fresh on his mind. 

There’s no note, no letter, but he knows. Knows that it could only be you, knows that no one outside of his team or the criminals they had been fighting with could possibly know about the death so soon unless they happened to witness the scene. And that night he sobs himself to sleep, clutching your flowers to his chest, unaware of the way you forlornly stare at him from the roof across the street, heart aching and wishing more than anything that you weren’t such a coward, that you were brave enough to slip inside and comfort him in person. 

But life has a funny way of working, of not caring if you’re ready or not and your lives crash together once more in an unexpected way. 

Iwaizumi is promoted to lead the new task force aimed at squashing down the rising crime syndicates. You’re proud of him, but you can’t quell the anxiety that courses through you as you watch every raid that takes place, wondering if and when the day will come where he’ll be outmaneuvered, keeping your own skills sharp, praying that you’ll never have to use them again, but just in case…

And you thank whoever’s listening that you had kept up with your training as Iwaizumi’s team is ambushed and overpowered one night. Your heart drops and bile rises in your throat as officer after officer crumples to the floor, but you force yourself to calm down, to find an internal steady rhythm as you glide through the shadows, swiftly and secretly making your way towards the man you’ve become so attached to. 

You fight down the panic when you finally reach him, try to still the tremble in your hands as you quickly scan the growing dark red stain spreading across his shirt from his wounds, almost collapsing in relief when you find that they’re all superficial wounds, nothing life threatening or critical. 

The silent scuffle between the two of you is awful and you’re thankful that blood loss and pain have weakened him as you forcefully drag him away, nails gripping tightly into his skin as you roughly lead him to your apartment despite his struggling, despite his desperate desire to go back and help his few remaining teammates. And you’re both fiercely snarling at each other when you’re finally safe inside your apartment, fury raging in both of you as you snap at each other. 

“You should have let me stay and help!”

“So that you could end up dead like the rest of them? You were clearly outpowered and outnumbered!”

“Well you should have just let me die then, instead of helping me escape like a coward.” 

A resounding crack echoes throughout the room and it takes you some time to register the smarting pain in the palm of your hand and the fresh red mark on Iwaizumi’s cheek. But before you can even stutter an apology, a hand is fisting the front of your shirt and lips are crashing against yours in an angry impassioned act and you whimper as you are forced to taste his frustration and gratitude, his losses and gain, his despair and hope. 

And when he disconnects and the two of you gasp for much needed oxygen, you stand in the middle of your apartment, arms wrapped around each other, only the sounds of Iwaizumi’s sobs and your comforting words flitting through the air as he buries his face in the crook of your neck and you rub soothing patterns on his back. 

The rest of the night is a domestic peaceful drawl and you gently lead Iwaizumi to an armchair in your living room before scurrying away to rummage for your first aid kit and returning to kneel between his legs as you clean his injuries, apologizing as he winces at the sting of warm water and soap against his open wounds. There’s a soothing flow as you tend to him and you relax with every swipe of the towel, fingers and hands lingering just a tad longer than they should on his skin. But you stiffen when his uninjured arm raises and calloused fingers lightly trace the bottom of your mask. 

There’s an unspoken question in the way he delicately plays around with the corners of the fabric, but it seems deafening to you as your heart races. Maybe it’s the pure intentions in his eyes or the fact that your walls are weakened in the confines of your apartment, but either way, you don’t pull away, tilting your head up and stilling in silent confirmation. And something flutters in your chest as he gingerly removes your mask, heat rising to your face as green eyes stare at your face in awe for the first time, fingertips tracing every inch and line, mapping every groove reverently. 

It feels like eternity before you resume dipping the towel into the soapy water and treating him. But bandaged and deemed well, Iwaizumi is ushered to your shower and you shove a pile of clean towels and the largest loungewear you have into his hands, fully intent on locking him in the bathroom as you get a grip on yourself. But he has different plans in mind and you’re speechless as he firmly grasps your wrist before you can retreat with your tail between your legs. 

“Stay with me. Please.”

How could you possibly deny those honest eyes? 

Swipes of a soapbar against skin become intimate caresses and before you fully register what’s happening, you’re being pressed against the wall as Iwaizumi plunders your mouth, rough hands roaming all over your body as he fully explores everything you have to offer. You whimper as the hot water is suddenly turned off, the cold air crashing against you, but you let out a content sigh as a hot body wraps you in its embrace, carrying you to the sanctuary of your plush bedding. And all you know before you blissfully pass out is the sound of your wanton moans as you break apart over and over again, on Iwaizumi’s tongue, fingers, and cock, tears and drool cascading down your face as you alternate between begging for more and crying for him to let you rest before you ultimately pass out from the deliriously overwhelming ecstasy.

The sun is barely creeping in, a few slim tendrils slipping past the cracks of your window blinds when his eyes flutter open and something warm spreads in his chest as he slowly turns to observe your still soundly sleeping figure, a small upward quirk of his lips betraying how right it feels to wake up beside your vulnerable state. And although he can’t deny the allure of your body creeping through the night, he thinks that you’re the most beautiful like this, unmasked and body unconsciously seeking his presence and warmth as you curl into his space, your face nuzzling into his chest, head perfectly settled under his chin, the soft glow of sunlight enhancing your natural beauty. 

But he grimaces as his alarm continues to blaringly ring in the background, frowning as he reluctantly separates himself from you and carefully untangles himself from your bed sheets, quietly traipsing out of your room and dialing a number on his phone when he’s out of your earshot.   

Guilt and dread claw at him as the ringtone goes on and on and his throat is dry when he hears the authoritative voice through the speakers. 

“Iwaizumi? Are you okay?!”

Iwaizumi wishes he had a glass of water as he chokes out a polite greeting and he can feel hot tears prick at his eyes as he ceaselessly apologizes. Apologizing for abandoning his men. Apologizing for a failed mission. Apologizing for being such a failure as an officer, as a leader. 

But he quickly shuts up at the sharp tone that pierces his ear as Sawamura barks his name and he waits and waits, holding his breath, preparing to give up his badge, only to splutter in surprise at the warm relieved chuckle echoing across the speaker. 

“I’m glad you’re at least well enough to give me a headache with your wallowing. Good men died and we’re going to feel their loss for a long time. I won’t deny that. But no one blames you, Iwaizumi. You’re a good man, a great officer, and an even better leader. Rest up, grieve, mourn. Do whatever you need to do for the next few days. And when you’re ready, I expect to see you in my office so we can strategize about how we’re going to honor our fallen teammates by giving these criminals hell.”

He barely has time to stammer a “yes, sir” before the line clicks shut and the tears finally roll down his face as he clutches his phone in his hands, bittersweet gratefulness and sorrow blending together. And as his cries come to an end, a determined glint flickers in his eyes as he wipes the last of the salty trails away, the resolve of a man seeking vengeance forming inside of him. 

But that could wait until he was back in the swirl and chaos of the precinct. For now, he has other loose ends to tie and he quietly walks back to your room, smiling at the sight of your still slumbering figure nestled in your blankets as he makes his way towards you, intent on slipping back underneath the covers besides you. But he lets out a muffled pained curse as his foot knocks over a box besides your bed, the crash of objects dispersing across the wood floor rattling you awake, and you blearily blink your eyes open only to stare in shock and horror as Iwaizumi curiously holds up a set of black bondage restraints and a jeweled butt plug from among the scattered items, before sending an amused look and a quirked brow your way.    

If you were drowsy before, you’re wide awake now as you lunge out of bed, throwing yourself at Iwaizumi as you frantically try to regain possession of some of your most intimate belongings, pouting when he holds the items out of reach, a mischievous grin on his face as he looks down at you. 

“Are you familiar with the stoplight system?”

You pause your futile jumping as you try and bat your toys out of his hands, balking at the underlying meaning in his question, waiting for him to just laugh it off and move on. But when all he does is bring a warm hand to gently cup your face, his thumb brushing against your cheekbone as he patiently gazes at you, letting you make the final decision, you melt and lean into his touch, shyly nodding your head as you blissfully sigh at the way it feels so right for him to be touching you. 

“Words, princess. I’m not going to be gentle. Not after all the teasing and headaches you’ve caused me. So I need to be sure you’re ok with this, that it’s what you want.” 

Brief descriptions of red, yellow, and green are barely out of your mouth before you’re suddenly being forcefully shoved onto the bed, body instinctively flailing in self-defense as you try to register what’s happening while binds are roughly being wrapped around your wrists and ankles. But you mewl in arousal as Iwaizumi’s weight settles on top of you, his hard chest pressing you against the bed as he dexterously ties you up until you’re in a spread-eagled position underneath him, unable to move even an inch. And your breath hitches at the hungry look he pins you down with as he sits back and enjoys the view of your trussed up body on complete display for him. 

But you grow impatient as the minutes drag by and Iwaizumi gives you an unimpressed look as you begin to fight against your restraints, whining for him to get on with it already. And he shuts you up with a punishing pinch to your inner thigh that has you yelping before getting up from the bed and perusing your box of toys. 

You crane your neck in every way as you try to get a sneak peek of what he has in store for you, but Iwaizumi puts that idea to a screeching halt as he slips a blindfold around your head and all you know is darkness and anticipation. Despite the way you try to intently listen for any warning, you squeal in surprise when a hot wet mouth latches onto one of your nipples, fingers tweaking the other and your entire world narrows down to your two perky buds, the lewd wet sounds of sucking filling your ears. Mouth and hands alternate and you can’t keep up with the fluctuating patterns, your breath coming out in pants, your pussy beginning to glisten with arousal, and you sigh in relief when the assault stops, glad to have a moment of reprieve, only to wail when the intense pressure of nipple clamps sears through you, the cold weight of the chain connecting the two clamps piercing your senses as it settles onto your skin. 

Pain and pleasure echo through your mind so loudly that you don’t sense Iwaizumi moving until fingers suddenly slip inside your dripping pussy and your back arches, the nipple clamp chain jingling with the movement and a rush of humiliation courses through you when Iwaizumi chuckles, commenting on how wet you are already. 

“I was going to prep you a bit more, but looks like this cock hungry hole is more than ready.” 

You’re practically salivating as something hard nudges against your entrance, already delirious just from the prospect of being filled with Iwaizumi’s cock once again, but enthusiasm turns to confusion which turns to pleasured shock as your rabbit vibrator is shoved inside of you and immediately set to its highest setting, your clit and walls stimulated so sharply, so suddenly. 

It’s so good, but it’s not enough, it’s too much, it’s not what you want. 

“Haji-Hajime, please. Want to cum on your cock. Don’t want a toy! Too much. At least turn it down. Haji-AHHHH!” 

You scream as you’re forced to an orgasm, body convulsing, jaw going slack, and you wait for the toy to be removed, wait for the settings to be lowered, only for dread and disbelief to fill you as a sticky thick substance is being inserted into your puckered hole, a lubed finger slowly entering you, taking its time to explore and spread your tight hole as the vibrator continues to ravage your pussy and clit at full intensity. And drool begins to seep from the corners of your mouth as you tumble headfirst into overstimulation as a plug replaces the fingers inside of your ass, nestling inside of you as you come to terms with the overwhelming feeling of being double stuffed. 

“Ha-Hajime please please please. Too much. I can’t-”

The plug inside of you is teasingly pulled just enough for you to feel the stretch of your hole, only to be shoved inside you once again and words are too hard to think of as the vibrator is thrust in and out of you, the slick sounds of your gushing cunt embarrassingly loud even above your whimpers. 

“Maybe I should make you cum for every robbery you ever committed. Maybe then you’ll actually behave and be a law-abiding citizen. Would you like that? Being too fucked out to even think about breaking the law?”

“No! Please! I’m sorry. I’ll be good. I swear. Just please let me rest.” 

“Sorry, princess. Bad girls need to be punished.” 

A strangled sob escapes you as the vibrator is pushed even deeper inside of you, the smaller tip grinding even further into your clit and your cries are swallowed as Iwaizumi settles besides you, affectionately capturing your lips with his as he watches you break apart once again, smirking as your body and face try to draw closer to him, seeking comfort and relief as overwhelming pleasure drowns you. 

But he doesn’t stop. Not even when your begging and pleading turns into incoherent babbles and wanton noises. Not even when you’re too tired to even move, your body only twitching here and there from overstimulation, completely slack and mindless as pleasure melts your brain into mush. 

Only when the vibrator finally runs out of batteries hours later, the mechanical whirring coming to an end, does he finally relieve you of the object and you dazedly stare at him as he removes your tear-stained blindfold, slumping in relief that it’s finally over, wanting nothing more than to curl up in Iwaizumi’s arms and sleep for a long, long time. 

But he has other plans for the two of you and even in your exhausted state, your eyes fling wide open and you weakly whimper as he positions himself in between your legs, guiding his cock to your spent hole and easily slipping inside before caging you with his arms.

Your eyes roll back at the sudden intrusion and despite how wrecked you are, how used you feel, arousal once again begins to coil up inside of you as your walls accommodate the new object. 

All you can think about is the cock inside of you. All you can think about is the way it fills and stretches you. All you can think about is the way it drags against your sensitive walls as Iwaizumi begins to piston his hips in a brutal steady rhythm. 

The room is a cacophony of Iwaizumi’s grunts, your broken moans, the sound of skin slapping against skin and you can feel yourself losing to the pleasure as the now all too familiar knot in your stomach tightens once again, your body tensing and pulling taut against your restraints as something builds up inside of you. 

Iwaizumi isn’t doing much better, so pent up from watching you beautifully fall apart over and over again in front of him, so close to the real thing as he hovers above you, memorizing the blissed out look on your face, mentally recording every gorgeous sound that slips past your lips, and this time it’s all because of him. 

He increases his pace, groaning as your walls tighten around him as if they don’t ever want him to leave them empty, something feral inside of him howling as your mouth opens in a silent scream as you crash one last time, your body shaking and trembling, your cunt spasming around him as he spills long thick stripes inside of you. 

When there’s nothing left to give, every last drop of his essence deep within you, your body boneless and limp beneath him, he gently lays on top of you, burying his face in the space besides yours, murmuring praises and words of affirmation as he blankets your body with his. 

And when you finally come back to him, eyes looking a little more clear, voice regaining your sassy tone as you demand that he undo your restraints, he’s more than happy to oblige, carefully releasing you, rubbing every sore limb, letting you use him as your personal body pillow as you throw your arms and legs around him and bury your face into his chest, almost instantly falling into a deep exhausted slumber in the safety of his presence. 

There will be proper, much needed conversations and discussions when the two of you are both awake, sitting across each other with steaming mugs of coffee placed in front of you, hesitantly yet hopefully probing for answers. What are the two of you? What does the future hold for both of you? 

But for now, Iwaizumi lets his eyes shut, lets himself be lulled by the rhythmic rise and fall of your chest as he holds you close to him, protectively curling around you as sleep embraces him.

[mypoisonedvine]

Home for the Holidays | Robert Pronge (aka Mr. Freezy) x reader

summary: robert is tired of pretending to be normal, he’s tired of the shitty holiday known as christmas and he’s really fucking tired of watching his adorable, innocent next door neighbor without getting a real taste.  luckily, he has a plan to solve all three of these things.

word count: a bit over 5k

warnings: smut (noncon, vaginal and anal), gunplay, bondage, stalking, kidnapping, slight-to-medium breeding kink, innocent!reader, lots of degradation, blood mention, pain kink, spitting, implied age gap (??? kinda), cringy and disturbing dirty talk, maaaaybe the darkest thing I’ve ever written… proceed with extreme caution

Robert hated the holidays.  The fact that it was too cold to sell ice cream was a factor, sure, but he didn’t like anything else about them either— the cheesy music, the stupid advertisements on TV, the gaudy decorations everywhere… he wasn’t sure if there was anything he liked about this time of year.  Getting gifts would be nice if he actually had any friends or family to do that with.  Giving gifts sounded like too much fucking work anyway.  He was sick and tired of this stupid holiday and the way it started sooner every year, too.  

This year, when he heard Jingle Bell Rock on the radio for the first time of the season, something snapped.  He wasn’t going to just sit idly by and let the holidays come and go.  He wasn’t going to avoid and half-tolerate all the dreaded ‘cheer’ and ‘spirit’ like he had for the past few years.  No no, this year was going to be different.

This year, he was going to get a Christmas present for himself: you.

He’d been watching you for a long time, since the day you moved in next door.  It wasn’t often that a young woman lived alone around here, and for good reason.  Still, you had this air of blissful ignorance about you— you never caught him spying on you, for one, and when he was spying you were always off in your own little world, listening to your records, daydreaming about god-knows-what.  He wished he could know, because he figured it was something innocent and wholesome.  

You weren’t all innocent and wholesome, though.  He’d seen you doing the things you did when you were totally alone (or at least, you thought you were), late at night, cuddled up under the covers…

He wanted to see more, though.  He wanted to see everything.  And he was tired of waiting.

He was on his porch when you came home, and he waved; you waved back, your hands obscured by big fuzzy mittens.  Damn did he miss the summers, when you would wear tank tops and short shorts and wash your car in the sunlight.  Now you were all bundled up in coats and scarves, and even though you looked sort of adorable like this, he missed that perfect body he knew you were hiding under there.  

You were bringing groceries in from the car, and he could see you had a few bags in the backseat.  “That’s a lot to carry, lemme help you,” he offered as he jumped up from his seat and walked towards you.

“Oh, it’s fine, I’ve got it,” you dismissed, but you started to stumble and he had to catch you so you wouldn’t fall and drop your stuff.  “Thanks,” you mumbled awkwardly as you caught your footing— you felt so good in his arms he could barely stand it.  

“What is all this?” he asked as he glanced into the bags.

“Oh, uh, just Christmas stuff,” you explained.  He furrowed his brow as he saw you had bought enough food to feed a whole family.  

“Your folks comin’ into town or something?” he pressed, pulling one of the paper bags open to see inside.  “Or are you hosting a party I didn’t get invited to?”

“Uh, neither,” you laughed, “my family doesn’t… no, they’re not coming.  And there’s no party.  I just love cooking Christmas food and I thought, why not?  I mean, I’ll freeze whatever I can’t finish and have meals for the next month…”

“So you’re gonna make this whole ham just for yourself?” he clarified, admiring your ambition.

“Yep!” you grinned.  “I know it’s stupid, but I just love Christmas and I don’t think I need to justify celebrating it to a grinch like you.”

“A grinch?  Says who?”

“Freezy, you’re the only house on the block that hasn’t put up lights yet,” you smirked.  “It’s sort of obvious you don’t like this time of year.”

“Are you kidding?  I love Christmas!  I’m just subtle about it, that’s all,” he decided sternly.

“Really?  Are you going to see anyone for the holidays then?” you pressed.

“Uh, no, I’m sort of an… orphan, I guess you could say.  No parents or siblings or anything like that.”

“No girlfriend?” you grinned, elbowing him playfully.  

“I don’t have a girlfriend,” he laughed, “I just know a few women who would be really mad if they heard me say that.”

“You’re such a dog,” you rolled your eyes.  “Will you help me carry these in or not?”

He sighed as he picked up two bags and carried them up to your porch, pushing the door open with his back to set them on your counters.  He’d been inside your place a few times— mostly with you there, a few times when you weren’t— and he noticed how much you’d changed in the spirit of the season: an enormous, real pine covered in lights and ribbons; decorative ceramic figures all over the place including Santa, elves, reindeer, and even a nativity on the dining table; stockings on the mantle, god knows who those were even for. 

You had literally decked your halls with boughs of holly.  

“Damn, woman, you went all out!” he observed with wide eyes.

“Well, I thought it would be nice,” you smiled, although it was a somber smile, “you know, Christmas like it used to be…” you trailed off as your gaze became distant.  You snapped back to reality with a little sigh, shaking it off and heading back to the car for another load of bags.  He understood that emptiness he saw in your eyes, it was all he felt anymore.  Maybe you could change that for him; maybe he could change that for you.

Aw, who was he kidding?  He didn’t care about that.  He just wanted to figure out what you were hiding underneath those puffy winter clothes.  If the smell of your stolen panties was anything to go by, it was going to be worth the wait.

//

Christmas Eve was just as boring and cold as any other day, except that it was filled with a riveting anticipation.  That was probably true for most people, but for Robert it was for something much more exciting than presents under the tree.  

Nightfall came early, it being winter and all, so it was already pitch dark outside when it was just about time for him to go over for dinner.  He considered smashing a window to get in, but then you might call the cops before he had time to explain, so he decided the easier method was just to knock on the front door.  He didn’t really care who saw at this point— besides, who’d be staring out their window to spy on their neighbors the night before Christmas?  Aside from Robert, that is.

“Oh!” you gasped when you answered the door.  The dark red turtleneck looked even better on you up close, like you’d jumped right out of a Norman Rockwell postcard— or a festive pin-up.  He didn’t wait for your approval before stepping in and shutting the door behind him, relishing the adorable look you wore as you stared up at him with the perfect mix of confusion and concern.

“I know you didn’t invite me,” he smirked, “but I figure two people alone on Christmas ought to be together, don’t you think?”

“Robert, I—”

He pulled his gun out from his belt, watching you freeze as he pointed it at you.

“I think you should start making dinner, sweetheart,” he instructed darkly.  You nodded quickly, walking to the kitchen as he followed you closely.  “What are you making?”

“H-ham,” you stuttered nervously as you turned on the stove before slipping on a cute little apron with white lace around the edges.  “With green bean casserole, and some gingerbread for dessert.”

“Sounds delicious,” he grinned, taking a seat at the bar and keeping his gun pointed towards you.  

Your hands were shaking as you tried to chop the ingredients, and he tutted a little in sympathy.  “Don’t be scared, honey, ‘m not gonna hurt ya.  It’s gonna be a great Christmas— just like the way it used to be, huh?”

“Y-yeah,” you shivered, lip quivering, “I… I wish you just would’ve asked if you could have some dinner, Robert, I would’ve happily had you.”

“Oh, you’re gonna have me either way.  Up to you if you wanna be happy about it.”

He laughed as he watched your eyes start to water, a meek little sniffle 

“Aw, don’t cry, pretty baby,” he cooed, “it’ll make me wanna skip right to the good stuff.  But, let’s just have dinner first.”

You stayed quiet after that, cooking in silence as he unabashedly undressed you with his eyes.  You looked like a perfect little housewife in that apron; he wanted to see you wearing just that, so he could bend you over the counter and— 

Damn, he was already hard, just like that.  You’d always had such an effect on him.

He went ahead and took a seat at the table once you were nearly done with the meal, leaning back to let you drape the fancy napkin over his lap (and smirking when you gasped a bit, obviously noticing the bulge in his jeans).

“I hope you like it,” you offered weakly as you set his plate in front of him.

“I’m sure you do,” he grinned, picking up his fork.  “You won’t like what’s gonna happen if I don’t.”

You just stood beside him for a moment as he took the first bite, smiling weakly when he hummed in content at the taste.  “Aren’t ya gonna eat?” he asked, looking you up and down.

“I’m not hungry,” you explained quickly.

“Suit yourself,” he shrugged, “it’s good.  You’re quite the little chef, aren’t ya?”

“Um, I suppose…” you deflected awkwardly.

“Learn to take a compliment,” he hissed, “say ‘thank you.’”

“Thank you,” you replied dutifully.  

“That’s better,” he announced firmly, shovelling the last bite of casserole into his mouth before working on the slices of ham.  Your ability to follow instructions was a good sign for how tonight was going to go— apparently for all your naivete, you still had a self-preservation instinct.  He couldn’t wait to exploit it.

He continued his meal in silence, delighting in the way your eyes watered and your lip quivered.  “Alright, sweetie, dinner’s over,” he announced when he was finished.  “Time for dessert.”

You shivered slightly as he stood up and approached you.  “You want gingerbread?” you asked innocently.  He frowned and shook his head, watching you start to cry again as he roughly grabbed your arm and pulled you closer.  

“I had something even sweeter in mind,” he informed you with a low growl, taking a big whiff of your scent— that same shampoo smell he was used to by now, mixed in with the new perfume you’d gotten a few weeks ago along with the warm, spicy smells of Christmas.  “Been waitin’ so long for this,” he groaned lowly as he leaned down to stare right into your fear-widened eyes.

“N-no, please,” you whimpered, weakly attempting to twist out of his grip, “you wouldn’t—”

“I would,” he disagreed as he turned his gun backwards, whipping you across the head with the handle.  He caught you before you collapsed, and hoped you wouldn’t be hurting too much when you woke up.  But he would deal with that then.  Right now, he had a present to wrap.

//

There was a radiating ache in your skull.  You felt that first as you groggily opened your eyes.  The next thing you noticed was that you weren’t in your bed.  Looking around, you couldn’t see well because the only light was from your Christmas tree, but you could see that you were naked and bound with ropes.  Oddly enough, on top of the ropes was thick red ribbon, gathered in a big bow right at your chest.

What the fuck is going on? you were about to ask yourself, but then it all became clear.

The shadows shifted, and your neighbor emerged from them.  You struggled against the ropes as you remembered everything, realizing what was happening.  Of course you had always thought he was a bit creepy (who didn’t?) but you were nice to him and he was nice to you.  How could you have known he was this disturbed?  

“That’s my favorite part,” he purred as he stooped down to be eye-level with you.  “The moment when they realize what’s going to happen.  You were so peaceful just a moment ago, knocked out and without a care in the world, and now you’re fighting for your life.”

You whimpered into the gag as he smiled at you, running his hands over your skin.

“I mean, not fighting very well, but fighting.”

You tried to kick him as he stepped closer but the ropes made it impossible.

“I think it’s time to open my present, hm?” he grinned.  You shook your head but he ignored you, slowly pushing your legs apart and growling a little when he saw your exposed pussy, ripe for the taking.  “Look at that, you’re wet,” he laughed.  You wrenched your eyes shut, refusing to believe this was happening.  “Don’t be embarrassed, that happens a lot.  Although I’ll admit, I don’t think any of them were ever this wet before…”

You jumped when his thumb started to rub your clit, the pressure much too intense and unexpected.  He laughed at your struggle, and you could feel your walls throbbing in response to the stimulation.

“I know I didn’t need to do all this to get you in bed,” he continued his taunting rant.  “I know you wanted me already— don’t think I didn’t notice you makin’ googly eyes at me like a dumb little schoolgirl.  If I’d’ve asked you out, I could’ve had you under me after a few drinks… but it’s better this way.  You probably would’ve made me wear a condom, would’ve made me be all gentle with ya, some wholesome missionary shit,” he laughed.  “I don’t have time for that crap.  It’s so much better with your body at my disposal, and you cryin’ those pretty tears.”

The shocks that shot up your spine from the way he was touching you made you feel like your body was betraying you.  How could this actually feel good?  How was it that the fear burning in your gut was actually adding to your pleasure and not nullifying it?

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” he groaned as if he were reading your mind.  “I know you love it, little girl, don’t act so innocent.  I know you’re not the good girl everybody thinks you are.  You’ve been naughty this year, haven’t you?”

Even though logic told you not to play into his twisted game, you felt compelled to shake your head ‘no.’

“Don’t lie,” he warned, “I’ve seen you.  I’ve watched you play with this pretty pussy every fucking night.”

You couldn’t watch this any more, you couldn’t look at him while he did this to you.  Forcing your eyes shut, you tried to find a place in your mind to run away to.  Instead, he slapped you right on your clit and your eyes shot open as you whined.

“Keep looking,” he instructed.  “I want you to see it.  I want you to know that it’s me.  I want you to see what I’m about to put in you.”

He stepped back and hastily discarded his shirt, making quick work of his boots and trousers, too.  Then it was just his boxers, and you could see the outline of his erection already.  You hoped it wasn’t as big as it looked, but then he grinned as he pulled the fabric down and yep, it was— you tried to squirm away, uselessly.

“Aw, don’t be scared, baby,” he pouted, “I know it’s big, but with how wet you are I bet it’ll fit like a glove.  A really, really tight glove…”

He leaned down and pressed his lips right against your ear, rubbing his swollen head through your slick folds as you whined.  

“Gloves can tear,” he chuckled.  “Gloves can rip.”

Tears stained the ribbon of your gag as you tried to beg him not to, but it was too late— he was pushing forward and spearing you onto him.

“Fuck!” he groaned as he pushed all the way to the hilt, and your eyes rolled back as the stinging, burning pain shot up your spine.  “So fuckin’ tight, fuck, can’t believe I waited this long to get my hands on you.”

He pulled the gag down, smiling at you tenderly when you coughed out a cry of pain.  “Please,” you sobbed, “please stop…”

“No no, babygirl, I’m not gonna stop.  I wanna fill this slutty little cunt with my come.”

Renewed sobs shook your chest as your nails dug into your own palms, each thrust somehow going even deeper than the last, somehow hurting even more.

“Want my come, pretty girl?” he pressed, refusing to let you ignore him.  “Want me to shoot my load into this sweet pussy a’yours?”

“No,” you sobbed weakly, shaking your head, “no, no…” you trailed off, chanting it like a mantra as you felt like you might pass out.

“Aw, you’re not on the pill, are you?” he realized with a toothy grin.  “Never saw any empty packs in your trash.  Are you worried I’ll knock you up?”

“Please, please don’t,” you shivered.  There was nothing quite as demeaning as having no recourse but to beg even when you knew it would do nothing.  The only thing that came close was the knowledge that your orgasm wasn’t so far off— his cock was slamming right into your spot with every movement, his hips rubbing your swollen clit, and it was impossible to avoid the pleasure that was making your walls tighten around him.

“How could I not?” he countered.  “Fuck, you feel so good, how could I not breed this dripping, desperate cunt, hm?  There’s no way I’m pulling out now when you’re squeezin’ my dick so good like this.”

“Please,” you repeated, so quiet you couldn’t be sure he heard it at all.  You could hardly breathe with his weight on your chest, black static dancing at the edges of your peripheral vision.

“I’ll be honest— I hate kids,” he growled, “never wanted ‘em, but it does sound like a lot of fun to get you pregnant.  Would you like that, pretty baby?  Bein’ full of my kid?  I’d be so nice to watch you get big and know it was all my fault.  Think of it like a Christmas gift, from one neighbor to another.”

“Robert, please!” you cried, although it sounded a lot like you were begging him for more as opposed to begging him for mercy.  You weren’t sure how that happened, except that you could feel the coil in your gut tightening and tightening and tightening until it finally fucking snapped and you choked on nothing, your walls fluttering as a gush of wetness seeped out between your bodies.

“That’s it,” he groaned, “fuck, what a nasty little skank you are, Jesus… coming so hard from being tied up and abused by your neighbor, who knew you were a total freak?”

You couldn’t say anything, you couldn’t even think as hazy pleasure flooded your brain and you went limp in his oppressive grasp.  Exhaustedly, you slumped down and let him use you— all you could do now was hope he would finish soon.

“I mean, I knew,” he laughed, “but damn… you’re somethin’ else.”

He said it with pride in his voice, as your entire body burned with shame.  How had you already given in so quickly, accepted your fate and come harder than you ever had before?  It sort of made sense that this would be more intense than what you got from getting yourself off at night (and the thought that he’d been watching you made your stomach churn), but why was this so much better than the sweet, loving sex you’d had with your boyfriend way back when, before he’d run out on you?  Why was Robert, as disturbed as he was, the best you’d ever had?

“God, you’re so wet, I can fucking smell you,” he grunted through his teeth.  “You made such a pretty mess on my cock, babygirl.”

You could hear that he was right, you could feel the wetness that had dripped down to cover both of you— the wet slapping of his balls against your ass was disgusting, yet arousing, and you hated yourself for it.

“Shit, I’m close,” he moaned, “fuck yeah, just like that.”

You weren’t sure what he was referring to until you realized you were arching your back, forcing his cock to hit your overstimulated spot directly.  It made jolts of electricity course through your veins, pleasure sizzling just beneath your skin.  

“Kiss me,” he instructed, and you were too far gone to disobey as you turned and captured his lips in a kiss, instantly accepting his tongue into your mouth.  It was sloppy and forceful and kinda gross and he tasted like Christmas dinner and cigarettes, but it made your walls tighten around him again anyways.  Something about his beard against your face made you moan a little, the sound lost into his mouth but unfortunately not unnoticed.  “Fuck, I know you love my cock so much,” he purred, pulling back only as much as he needed to to speak— he was so close that his lips brushed yours with every word, those dark eyes staring right into yours until you felt entirely helpless to his gaze.

“Please,” you whimpered, not even sure what you were asking for.

“Best pussy I’ve ever had, you know that?” he praised, grinning as you bit down on your lip.  “Yeah, you love being my good girl, you love pleasin’ me, don’tcha?”

“I— I don’t—”

“Just nod your head, dumb baby,” he grunted coldly.  After a moment of hesitation, you nodded ever so slightly and he moaned above you.

“Fuck— gonna come,” he informed you breathlessly, “gonna fill up your wet fuckin’ hole, ‘m so close, ah fuck—”

The first pump of his cock painted your insides and you cringed as you tried not to moan at the feeling.  His come was hot and thick as it filled you, the faltering thrusts of his hips making your swollen walls flutter weakly.  It felt like it would go on forever— his weak groans in your ear, his thick cock pulsing inside you, your breathing quick and fast until it felt like you weren’t getting any air in your lungs at all.  It stopped, finally, as he sighed and relaxed a little bit.

“Goddamn,” he breathed as he pulled out of you, making you both wince.  Already you felt soreness radiating from your opening, and your face burned as he looked down between your legs.  “Look at that, what a perfect little pussy I just ruined.  It’s all stretched out and red and covered in my come,” he announced proudly.  “There’s a little blood, too, but you’ll be better in no time,” he assured with a smirk.  “Red and white— it’s sort of festive, don’t you think?”

You swallowed down the acid threatening to come up your throat— of course he was disturbed, but did he have to be so disgusting?

Again, it was like he read your mind as he grabbed your jaw and forced you to open your mouth, spitting onto your tongue before commanding you to swallow it.  Just when you thought you’d reached the limits of his depravity, he found some new way to up the ante.  What worried you most, though, was the fact that he’d already come and hadn’t left yet.  Deep down, you knew it wasn’t over yet, but you hadn’t accepted it consciously.

“Such a good slut for me,” he praised through his teeth, “I bet I can go again, fuck, you turn me on so much.”  Pulling back a bit and gripping his cock at the base, you squirmed a little as you looked at it.  “You see this?  I’m still hard.  You make me feel like a fuckin’ teenager again, I swear.”

“I can’t…” you sighed weakly, your voice sounding all cracked and whiny as it moved through your sore throat.  “I can’t take it again…”

“Don’t worry,” he soothed, “I’m gonna give your poor cunt a break… so I can rape this cute little ass.”

“No!” you yelped.  “Please!  Not there!”

He slapped you quickly before maneuvering two fingers to your other hole, teasing it as he laughed at your pre-emptive wince.

“It’s not gonna be so bad, baby, I’m gonna get you ready for it first, see?  I bet you’ll love it, nasty little thing like you.”

The first finger slipped in with a little pop as the tight ring of muscle shifted to accommodate him.  You’d never had anything go up that way before, and it was nothing like you could’ve imagined.  Hissing in a breath through your teeth, you whimpered as he added a second finger already.

“Just relax,” he instructed.  “Not that I don’t love you gripping my fingers with your tight little hole, but it’ll hurt less if you just let it happen.”

You willed your muscles not to tighten even as he twisted his fingers inside you, moving slowly until he was buried all the way to the knuckle and then finally pulling back.  The third was a bit more of a challenge as he opened you wider, your fists clenching at the sting of pain.  He let his come drip down from your pussy to use as lube, which was undoubtedly the filthiest thing you’d ever experienced.  You tried to keep quiet and relax as he told you to, but your fight was renewed slightly as he pulled his fingers out and lined up his cock with your hole.  

“Please,” you shivered, “don’t do this…”

“When are you gonna stop fucking fighting it, huh?  How stupid are you?  You’re tied up on the floor, I already made this pussy mine and you fucking loved it, how much more obvious could it be that I’m gonna do this?  You’re fucked.  It’s over.  Just accept it and I’ll make it good for you.”

“This can’t be good for me,” you hissed through your teeth.

“Well, in that case,” he groaned, interrupting himself as he roughly shoved his cock into your ass.  The air was punched from your lungs as pain burned white-hot through your body— it didn’t feel like his fingers had done much to prepare you at all, with the way this hurt.  As soon as you had the oxygen needed to do so, you were crying again, loud sobs echoing around your dark, empty living room.  “I was gonna be gentle,” he taunted you darkly, “but you had to run that mouth of yours.”

You tried to choke out an apology, but it was useless as he shoved his fingers into your mouth. 

“Suck on ‘em, show me what your mouth is good for,” he demanded as you closed your lips and swirled your tongue around his fingers.  “Fuck, that’s better.  See how good it is when you know your place?”

You couldn’t really process his words, though, as you spent all your energy on trying not to think about how his cock felt in your ass.  It was like being full in a completely different way than before, like being opened wider than you knew was possible.  He pulled his fingers from your mouth and you hated the moan that spilled out after them.

“Your cunt is getting wet,” he sing-songed mockingly as he leaned back and looked down at it.  “You love it up the ass, huh?  Dirty bitch.”

You shook your head in denial (even though you could feel that he was right, at least about the first part), but he grabbed your jaw and forced you to look at him.

“Say it,” he grunted.  “Admit it, slut.  Admit you love getting fucked up the ass.”

“I…” you whimpered, barely able to get the words out even though you knew you needed to if you wanted to prevent him from hurting you worse.  “I love… getting fucked—” you stopped to swallow the lump in your throat— “up the ass.”

He backhanded you, hard, right across the face.  You cried and gasped all at once, choking on air from the force of the hit.  “WHORE!” he yelled right in your face.

You sobbed uncontrollably as he fucked you with more brutality than you’d known was possible.  “Please,” you tried to beg, even if you knew it was useless, but it was totally incomprehensible as you shook with the force of your cries, hissing in breaths through your teeth to try to cope with the pain.

“Thought it would take me a while to come again, but your ass feels so goddamn good— fuck, I’m close already.  Want me to fill up that tight little ass?”

You shook your head as you sobbed, shaking violently against the confines of the ropes.  Distantly, you heard the chimes of your clock in the other room.

“You hear that?” he whispered.  “That means it’s midnight— it’s Christmas.”

He leaned in until his hot breath tickled your ear and neck, making you wish you could turn your head away more than just a few centimeters.

“Merry fucking Christmas,” he purred, just as you felt his cock swell and pulse inside you.  Your eyes rolled back as you wondered if you’d ever been so full before.

It was a haze after that as he gently untied you, getting his gun out again and keeping it trained on you as he followed you to the bathroom and forced you to shower.  Force was a bit of an overstatement, though, considering your desire to clean him off of you as much as possible.  “I’m not gonna tell anyone, Robert,” you tried to calm him down as you shivered under the stream of water that hadn’t quite warmed up yet.

“Yeah, well, just in case,” he insisted as he waved the gun pointed in your direction.  “Wash between your legs real good, push my come out.”

“Not gonna matter if you knocked me up like you said,” you reminded him.  “A paternity test will be evidence enough.”

“Shut up,” he grimaced.  “Can’t prove you didn’t want it, anyway.  We both know you did.”

You didn’t respond to that, opting to shower silently instead and wincing every time you tried to clean between your legs.  You were going to be sore for days, if not weeks.

“We both know I’m gonna be back for more real soon,” he added darkly.  “Too good for just one night.” 

[notsowrites]

to stay here forever

this is a prompt from @dreamthingpdf “if Alex goes undercover into deep sky Michael will be worried about him and possibly move his airstream onto Alex’s lot” 

(and i apologize because i think this only fills like half the prompt, but it’s 1200 words of michael missing alex, and malex being... malex)

----------

Moving his trailer in front of Alex's house was an easy decision. He'd made a similar choice all those months ago for Maria, when she'd been sleeping at the Pony, waiting for Mimi to come home. Now though, Michael had a vague idea of where Alex was - he just didn't have specifics. There were no details to be shared, because Alex was off the grid.

And Michael hated it.

It reminded him too much of the days, nights, months, and years he'd spent worrying about Alex while he was active combat. Though these days, it wasn't a secret no one talked about, he could share his frustrations with Isobel, or let Maria tease him about missing Alex. Even if right now, he and Alex weren't anything - friends, maybe - there was still a stubborn part of him that remained hopeful. That perhaps one day the two of them could find their way back to each other.

Alex leaving on his crusade to clean up his father's messes had aggravated Michael, that even in death, Alex couldn't be completely free of the man. And he'd seen the determination in Alex's eyes, the chance one-up his father and do better, to learn more. And Michael knew there was no stopping him - Alex was going to do what he felt was right.

But it'd been months, and the radio silence was starting to wane on him. Michael found that immersing himself in Alex's life, staying outside his house, watering his plants and maintaining the yard while he was gone only made him miss Alex more. Having a key tested his restraint with each passing day as he resisted making himself at home in Alex's space.

"Doesn't Maria usually do this for you?"

"I don't want to add to the things she has to worry about - she's already dealing with her mom, and controlling her visions."

For weeks, Michael has clocked the guitar propped up against the wall in Alex's office, the soft black case and it's I'M WITH THE BAND sticker all too familiar. But he leaves it alone, doesn't give in to the itch to pick it up and play. After all, he made the decision to give it back to Alex. To tell him be didn't want it, even when Alex thought he'd want to play again.

And Michael hates that he was right. He misses music, he misses playing. He misses the low vibration in the tips of his fingers as he played the chords. But it's been too long, and he's here, surrounded by Alex's life, and he picks up the guitar case, gently placing it on the desk to unzip it.

The guitar, of course, looks exactly how Michael remembers, and a quick run of his fingers across the strings confirms it's been well cared for over the years. The strings are in tune, nothing needs to be tightened or adjusted, and Michael lifts it out to hold in his hands, to remember the feeling of playing, to allow himself to get lost in the melody of the music.

He hums a song, fragments of a tune he doesn't know the full words to. But that's okay, he doesn't need them. It's enough to close his eyes and remember that day, and how far he's come since then.

"Did you memorize the part you heard?" 

Alex's voice startles him, and Michael realizes how distracted he'd allowed himself to become as he played, internally cursing how dangerous such an action could be, and he moves to slide the guitar back in it's case.

"Shit," Alex says, stepping towards him. "You didn't have to stop."

Michael shrugs. "I never heard the whole thing."

Alex looks good - his hair is longer than Michael remembers, but its disheveled like Alex's been running his fingers through it without a care in the world for appearances. He's wearing a black leather jacket, and a grey knit sweater underneath, and Michael can't help but wonder if it feels as soft as it looks, if he reached out and touched it, if Alex would let him. If it wasn't constantly playing on repeat in his head that they aren't anything at the moment, Michael would kiss him.

Instead he zips up the guitar case, and returns it to it's place.

"You moved your trailer?"

"It was easier."

Alex hums, glancing outside the window before looking back at him. "The couch there is a fold-out, you know. You didn't have to go through that trouble for me."

"It wasn't - I wanted to." He stands up, his gaze shifting past Alex. He'll leave, get out of Alex's way. Surely he's tired and wants to rest after whatever he was dealing with for so long, and Michael won't be in his way. Alex can decide what to share with him, whatever he's learned. "I'll just get out of your way."

Alex is quiet as he grabs his hat from the kitchen counter and makes a beeline for the front door, nearly tripping on the duffle bag on the floor in the hallway. It's his own fault really, he's not looking where he's going, and he doesn't belong here in Alex's space, when Alex is here. He's overstepped his welcome because he wasn't meant to do more than water the plants.

"Michael," Alex calls out just as he's pulling the door open, appearing in the hallway. "Don't you want to hear what I found?"

"I - yeah, but - you just got back. Don't you want some time alone?"

He watches Alex shake his head, and take a step towards him.

"I've been alone for months now." Michael hadn't considered the idea that Alex was tired of being alone. "And-"

Alex pauses abruptly, as though he had second thoughts about what he wanted to say. But the action only made Michael more curious.

"Alex?"

He watches as Alex fidgets for a moment, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth, shifting on his good foot.

"The house smells like you. When I walked in, it was like-" Alex pauses, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. "It made me happy to be home."

He has to leave. He needs to walk out that door, because Alex can't just say things like that and think it's okay. That it doesn't hit Michael straight in the heart to know that Alex associates that with him, and something good. He can't do that - because it's hope, and hoping for anything has never led to a good result for him. 

But fuck, does he want. 

"What are we doing, Alex?"

Unconsciously, they drift together in the space of the hallway, until they're close enough for Alex to take the hat off Michael's head and drop it on the table next to them.

"I did a lot of thinking these last couple months, and I want to tell you about it. And I want us to-" Alex stops, a hand reaching forward, fingers gently pressed against his chest near his heart, the uncertainty evident, as though he's not certain he's allowed to touch. "It's still you I want to be with, Michael."

Caution be damned, Michael leans forward and kisses Alex, pressing their lips together and remembering how perfect it feels to do so. His arms snake around Alex's waist holding onto him, pulling him close, as he feels Alex's hands slide up his neck into his hair. It's perfect, it's everything, and he doesn't want it to stop. But he has to, they have to, because he knows that as nice and easy as it would be to fall into bed together, to strip themselves of their clothes and feel skin against skin - they need to take this slow. They need to talk. 

No more old patterns to fall into.

Michael pulls his lips away from Alex's, but keeps their foreheads pressed tight.

"Tell me what you've been up to."

He sees the upturn of Alex's mouth in the corner of his eye. "Will you stay the night?"

His reply is easy. "Yes."

[angelicspaceprince]

SFW Alphabet Heisenberg Headcanons

I posted these on my AO3 but I thought I’d move my headcanons onto Tumblr too - all fanfics are staying on AO3 at this stage.

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Heisenberg is a man of action, not of words. He’d be more inclined to show affection through gift giving or physical touch once you’ve reached that level of familiarity around him. In public, definitely a lot more possessive behaviour that’s merged in with physical affection, like his arm around your shoulders or waist, hand holding, making sure you’re within arms reach.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

There would be so much swearing. You’d have to be forced to be around him for a long time before he warmed up to you, and would have to prove that you were trying to be friends with the intent of being his friend, not for Miranda’s or your gain. I personally HC that he and Donna get along well enough that they spend time with one another sometimes, so even being an acquaintance of Donna’s and meeting that way would help speed things up a bit. He’d pop in on you during really bad moments ‘just to say hi’ but then you wouldn’t hear from him for months because he’s too focused on his metal army to realise how much time has passed.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

He will never admit it, but he does love a cuddle. If you manage to convince him to have a cuddle session with you, he will always, always insist on being the mattress or the big spoon, and will play with your hair and trace random words and numbers against your back. When he’s had enough or needs to do something he will make a snide remark about you having had your fun and he needs to get up to do actual adult shit now, but you always find he’s a lot calmer after having a good cuddle. During rough days are the days that he will approach you directly and state plainly that he wants you to be the big spoon or the mattress, loving the feeling of your hands in his hair or playing with his various necklaces or tracing weird patterns that don’t make sense against his skin. He loves a good cuddle, but again. He will deny it until his last breath.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

Heisenberg can cook one (1) meal and he burns it every single time. He claims it ‘adds flavour’, but in reality he was so focused on something that he forgot that he had something on the stove until he smelt smoke. He’s also not a clean man, not organised - shit just goes on the floor and when he needs it, he eventually finds it or a replacement.

I don’t think Heisenberg would want to settle down intentionally. He’s so focused on leaving the village that it consumes every waking and sleeping thought. But, that being said, if someone was to arrive and start acting domestic around him once he’d lowered his walls enough, he’d quickly fall into some sense of routine that looks very, very domestic from the outside. He’s very much the sort of man who doesn’t ask you out, you just end up dating somehow.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

Cut and run. He doesn’t had time for emotions (before leaving the village) and he’s not good with words so he’d rather just up and leave and save himself the hassle. Probably wouldn’t even leave a note or send a text, you’d just have to figure it out for yourself that he was alive and had left you and not dead in a ditch.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

Definitely not whilst living in the village. Again, he’d not really ask someone to be in a relationship more than he’d just fall into one. But, once he’s realised that you’re dating (and after he’s left the village, whichever comes last), he may start thinking about something more long term. I feel like it would take years for him to realise that he wants to marry you, and then years again before he asks. You’ve got to be in it for the long-haul and after escaping the village, there is a lot of healing that would need to take place. So. Don’t expect marriage any time soon.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

Surprisingly, very? He’s a hard ass at first, but the longer you know him and the more he drops his guard, the more you realise he’s a big ole softy underneath his hard shell. He wears a lot of his more intense emotions on his sleeves, but the more intimate ones are harder to come by and usually it takes a unique gaze to realise that he’s been gentle to you for a while, it’s just in a very Heisenberg way.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

Same with cuddling, he’ll never admit that he likes them but he does. You have to initiate most hugs, with his preference being you pressed up against his back as he sits by his desk or table with your head resting either on top or next to his own. He’s always warm, and a weird but comforting blend of strong muscle with soft fat makes his hugs some of the best you’ve ever experienced. Sometimes he needs them for a little pick me up and sometimes you need them for the same reason. If you ask him to hug you first, with your head pressed against his chest or shoulder, he will grumble and tease you a little, but never, ever deny you.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

Oh, forever. I’m convinced that Heisenberg shows his love rather than says it - you learn his little love declarations as time goes on (him fussing over you or saying some form of praise where an ‘I love you’ would be appropriate, him making or doing something for you. Stuff like that). I don’t think Heisenberg would say I love you very often, it’d only be during highly emotional or important moments that the word would just slip out.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

Ahaha. Ahaha. Ahahahahaha. Yeah no he gets jealous a lot. It does not take much. Angie demanding too much of your time? Jealous. Alcina inviting you to dinner with her and her girls. Jealous. That random kid from the village asking you for help and giving you a flower as thanks? Jealous. He tends to get more closed off to you and short, and if it’s Alcina who’s the one who makes him feel this way or, heaven forbid, someone showing interest in you romantically, there will be violence. Otherwise, just a lot of pouting and occasional rants about how they know not to bother you and he’s only looking out for you and is definitely not jealous that your attention can’t be on him 100% of the time.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

Rough, scratchy. Usually heated but every now and again you’ll have a soft make out session or give each other a simple peck as you walk by. He loves kissing your shoulders and neck just to see you shiver, and forehead kisses are his preferred way to show affection in this manner. He isn’t that fussed where he’s kissed, just as long as he gets to feel your lips against him in some way.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

Depends on the age - useless with babies. Absolutely useless. But once kids start talking and he’s able to answer questions or teach them words and phrases that will have their parents seeing red? He’s incredible, mostly because he’s having the time of his life teaching them anything and everything, including different swears to share with their parents the moment they get home.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

Pre escape: Each start to the day usually revolves around trying to find out where he’s passed out this time, or if he’s slept at all. Usually you’d bring him something to eat and drink to keep him going and ask what he worked on overnight before you go to get ready for your day.

Post escape: Most mornings, he’d wake up before you and you’d be woken by him playing with your hair or tracing his fingertips against your skin. You’ve taught him how to use the coffee machine, so sometimes he’ll have a coffee there waiting for you. It takes a lot of work for you to pull away from him in the mornings, mostly because he refuses to let you go, but regardless, its a stark contrast to the way he was before escaping Miranda.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

Pre escape: You try and stay up with him as long as possible, not wanting him to not have the company. Eventually, you pass out next to him, something he finds hysterical and heartwarming at the same time - he’ll never admit it but he never thought he’d meet anyone that would trust him enough to fall asleep next to him. He usually lets you rest there for a little bit, finding comfort in your soft snoring and occasional shifting, before he picks you up and carries you to bed, making sure you’re tucked in nice and warm before going back to his work. The softness can wait for after you’ve both survived his escape plan, and not a second before.

Post escape: I see two things happening frequently: The first is you falling asleep on the couch with your legs in his lap as you struggle to stay awake as he watches a show on the telly. You don’t want to leave but you struggle to stay awake. When the show is finished, he picks you up and, much like back at the village, carries you to bed but only this time he crawls in after you, curling you up against his side or slotting your back against his front, falling asleep seconds after he has you in a comfortable position for the both of you.

OR

You end up going to bed a little bit early to do something, maybe read a book or scroll on your phone, who knows. Heisenberg eventually joins you, crawling into your lap until his head is resting against your chest. He falls asleep on top of you as you play with his hair, his arms wrapped tightly around your middle as you continue helping to bring him down after a stressful day.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

So, so slowly. I’m talking at least a year of him being completely closed off because he even lowers his guard a little. He’s been hurt before, he’s been used before. And as far as he knows, you could be someone Miranda sent to him to keep tabs on him, or you could be toying with him for your own amusement. You really would have to show that you are there for him before he started opening up to you, and even then it wouldn’t be in waves, it would be in drips and trickles.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

This man has anger issues, he gets angry at the drop of a hat.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

He won’t remember stories, or names, or dates - time just blends into one, endless mess for him. But he will remember facts. You tell him your favourite colour or favourite snack? In his mind forever. You make an offhand remark about wanting something? Next time he’s at the Duke’s, he’ll see if he has any in stock.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

When you escaped the village by far, the pair of you in the back of the Duke’s cart as he gets the pair of you away after seeing your home blow up thanks to Ethan. It was the first time that the both of you weren’t on edge or scared that you were seconds away from death, and after the adrenaline of the escape had gone through your system, you were tucked up against his chest, fast asleep as Heisenberg chewed on his cigar, his arm wrapped tightly around you. It was a new beginning for the pair of you, and Heisenberg was excited to see exactly what the world had to offer to the both of you.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

Incredibly, especially around Alcina and Mother Miranda. The other lords, not so much. He’s close enough to Donna to know that she wasn’t interested in stealing you, she only wanted to be her friend. Moreau was too scared of Heisenberg to try and pull any shit, the Duke was just a friend and he knew it would never go beyond that but everyone else? Is an immediate threat. There would be a lot of tugging you into his lap, keeping you tucked by his side, using his metal to hold you close. There would be a lot of threats and shouting as well as insult throwing if anyone so much as looked at you funny or made a small comment about taking you away, especially at Alcina. He’d try and keep you away from the village and from the family meetings as much as possible, and his hand would never leave your thigh or your waist if you were forced to attend. He’d make it clear that you were off limits to everyone and anyone.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

Not much? Maybe after escaping the village he’ll put a little more effort into certain anniversaries but dates are simple affairs, anniversaries don’t mean much to him. He’d rather show his love to you everyday through small tasks to make your life more comfortable than put all his effort into certain dates. Gifts, however, is where he puts most of his energy - he definitely makes most of his gifts for you. Be it something small that he thought you might like during the day to larger gifts that take time, he will make sure every part of it is perfect for you. You don’t get a gift every day, but you do get a gift most weeks.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

Smoking in bed is one. He also has a tendency to focus too heavily on his escape plans that sometimes it can feel like you are being neglected. His bathing habits also are rather lacking too. He 100% wakes you up in the middle of the night to rant about something that is bothering him or explain excitedly to you something that he’s discovered or created.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

Not very - he is, according to him, a naturally handsome sonofabitch, why would he need to worry about his style or be attached to a mirror forever fixing his hair?

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

It’s not so much a feeling of incompleteness because Heisenberg always feels empty and broken, but he definitely notices when you’re not nearby. It’s not like a piece of him is missing, but more like a recognition that something in his space is gone and he misses it and needs it back for him to feel more settled.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

He’s autistic. He got his accent from listening to/watching shows on the television in the 50s. Lady D helped raise him and it wasn’t until they had a falling out that they started to hate one another. He didn’t hate Mother Miranda until he was in his 20’s where it became apparent that they were only there because Miranda found some use for them after stumbling into her laboratory and finding her notes on all four of them. He’s also addicted to netflix and loves binge watching whatever he can, especially anything to do with creating/crafting/science. Can speak 3 languages fluently.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

He doesn’t like to be fussed over, at least in a way that is blatantly clear that that’s what you’re doing. He is independent to a fault, and refuses to take care of himself - but if you try to do anything to help him without his asking first and it feels like an attempt to mother him? He hates it, with a passion. The longer you know him, the more you’re able to get away with when he knows it's coming from a place of concern, but he can only handle so much because he breaks and his temper flares.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

Before escaping the village: He doesn’t sleep much and where he does sleep is wherever he passes out. The man lives off of caffeine, spite and cigars, and the amount of times you’ve found him passed out at one of his many desks is astounding. Best thing to do is cover him up and let him rest because at least he’s sleeping.

After escaping the village: He still doesn’t sleep much, only this time it's due to nightmares of being back in the village under Miranda’s control, or you getting hurt in his attempt to flee. He won’t sleep unless you’re asleep beside him and if that isn’t happening, he either doesn’t sleep at all or works himself to exhaustion so he passes out wherever he may be - just like in the village. He is, however, an octopus when he’s asleep. No matter what position the pair of you fall asleep in, you always end up in some weird tangle of limbs simply because he cannot be close enough to you.

[tennessoui]

1. Soulmates AU please! It is definitely my guilty pleasure trope

hello im only three months ish late maybe four but this is also 3.4k long and it's just wild i mean we're talking soul mates, superheroes, rushed world building, superhero names this is a trip this is something i wrote after waking up from a four hour nap this ever had a chance and also it's sad

1. Soul Mates (+ 42. Star Crossed Lovers)

“You shouldn’t have come,” Obi-Wan says harshly, pulling the children--they’re just goddamn children--into his apartment and slamming the door behind them. “Did anyone see you?”

The children--all four of them--stay quiet. Obi-Wan wants to wring their necks. He knows why they’re here. He’d rather them die on the streets than suffer through what they’re obviously here about.

But if that were really true, he would have just left them on his doorstep.

“Did anyone see you?” he asks again.

“Not that we noticed,” one of the girls in the middle says. Shili, dressed in a blue and white striped sensible jumpsuit and sporty cape. The leader of the new generation of superheroes and she sounds like she hasn’t even hit puberty yet.

Obi-Wan is suddenly very, very tired.

“Kam,” Shili gestures to the person next to her and a little behind, a tall boy with a helmet covering his face and white and blue armor covering the rest of him, “says he didn’t pick up anything with his sensors. We were safe. We’re not trying to get you caught, sir. We just need to talk to you.”

“You could kick us out,” the other girl points out, crossing her arms over her chest. She’s not even bothering to wear a domino mask, but Obi-Wan doubts very much he’s looking at her real appearance. She’s Mirial, of course.

Which makes the other boy in a padded white and orange suit Mando. Four of the fifty or so remaining Jedi superheroes are in his house.

Obi-Wan sighs and turns to pad down the hallway. “Shoes off,” he calls behind his shoulder. “And does anyone want any tea?”

“No thank you,” Shili responds politely, falling into step behind him.

“Sit,” he tells them roughly when he notices the four of them standing awkwardly in his cramped dining room. “Sit down.”

He puts the kettle on anyway, and bangs around the cabinets for a few seconds to find an unopened bag of chips and a sleeve of probably stale cookies.

He doesn’t have much else to offer them though. Not now.

Weren’t you the one always telling me to eat my vegetables? A laughing voice murmurs into his ear. Look at you now.

Obi-Wan has to stand for a second in his small and dirty kitchen, chips clutched in one hand and cookies in the other, and breathe for an impossibly long moment.

This is why he had not wanted to ever see another Jedi in his life. All they brought with them were questions and ghosts.

Obi-Wan has enough of those as it is.

The kettle goes off and he pours the hot water into his mug. The cowardly part of him that hasn’t faced a fight in ten years now wants to wait here until the tea has finished steeping and then think of a thousand other excuses to not ever leave the kitchen again. He's good at thinking of excuses. He calls them reasons and lives his life with them.

But he has always known someone would eventually come looking for answers. That had always been one of the prices he knew he would eventually have to pay.

He notices immediately upon entering the dining room that they’ve saved him a seat, if it counts as saving someone a seat when they’ve rearranged the chairs so one is on one side of the table and the other two are squeezed opposite it.

“I hope you don’t mind that I’ve brought snacks to my own interrogation,” he says blithely, depositing them onto the table in front of the children.

Kamino stares intently at them for a second, and then nods once to Shili, who reaches out to open the bag of chips. In a show of good faith, she takes one and eats it. Obi-Wan can’t see her eyes underneath the white lenses of her domino mask, but he’s quite sure she hasn’t stopped looking at him once.

“Are you sure you do not want tea, now we have established I am not going to poison you?” he asks, crossing his ankles and taking a sip from his own mug.

“It’s a bit too warm out there for hot tea,” Mirial says disdainfully, looking at her nails. “You know, what with the world on fire.”

“But I’d take an iced one, if you have it,” Shili leans forward.

Obi-Wan pauses, drink halfway to his mouth.

He sets it down gently on the wood of his table. “Ah. Going straight in, aren’t we?”

“There’s not much time for anything else,” Mando says, and at least he sounds a bit apologetic.

“A weighty statement from someone who can manipulate time itself,” Obi-Wan hums.

“Only for a few seconds,” Mando mutters behind his helmet, rubbing at the back of his neck.

“That’s because you don’t have much in the way of training, young man,” Obi-Wan tells him gently with a hint of steel behind it “Back in my day--”

He cuts himself off. He doesn’t know why. Clearly, they know who he used to be. Otherwise they wouldn’t be here. He’s really just delaying the inevitable, but his throat feels tight. This truth, so long unspoken, is hard to drag into his mouth. And yet, every second he doesn’t speak it, it’s bashing itself to death against the backs of his teeth.

“Would you like us to tell you what we’ve found out about your days?” Mirial asks, looking up from her nails. “Would that make it easier for you, Ilum?”

“Meer--” Shili starts to say, reaching out to touch the girl’s arm, rein her in, but it’s too late.

The planes of Mirial’s face change and shift and suddenly for the first time in ten years, Anakin Skywalker is sitting across from him. “Would you like to talk about the old days, or would you like me to talk about the old days?” Mirial in Anakin’s smooth baritone asks.

It’s cruel. It’s so cruel that for a second Obi-Wan wishes his heart could just stop from the pain of it all. “Please put that away,” he tells the tabletop coldly. “And please. Do not call me that.”

“Meer,” Shili murmurs, and there’s a shift in the air.

When Obi-Wan looks back up, Mirial is back to the way she always appears in press releases, green skin and all. “That was a decent impression,” he tells her. She bristles at the perceived slight, but he holds up his hand. “But when I knew him, his eyes weren’t gold. They were blue.”

“Mustafar has had golden eyes since he joined the Imps,” Mirial argues back in a way that reminds Obi-Wan of another young teenager, who never could learn how to take criticism well.

“And he was someone else before then,” he tells the girl. “He had another name and he had a mother and he had a soulmate and a--fiancee and everything.”

His hands have started to shake, so he clasps the mug tightly, though it burns him.

“Tell us,” Shili insists forcefully but compassionately. Obi-Wan had wondered before why they had chosen to make the girl whose only ability is to fly the leader of the newest Jedi team, but it must be that. It must be her compassion. “Please. You’re the only one who can.”

“Yes,” Obi-Wan says. “I know. I’m the only one who is left. But if I am to demask myself, I will not do it to a table of strangers.”

The children turn to look at each other. Kamino cocks his head at Shili, who inclines her own head. Mirial shrugs. Mando shakes his head once, but Shili seems to override him, because she turns back to Obi-Wan and takes off her domino mask.

“My name is Ahsoka Tano,” she says, stumbling over the name. Obi-Wan wonders how many times she’s unmasked herself before. “Or Shili.”

She nudges Mirial, who sighs. “I’m Barriss,” she tells him grudgingly.

Kamino takes off his helmet to reveal a strong-jawed boy with a blond buzzcut. “His name is Rex,” Ahsoka says. “He can’t speak except through minds.”

Obi-Wan blinks in surprise at this. He had known that Kamino had an advanced sense of the senses, could tell something’s molecular makeup just by looking at it, could smell a gas leak from two miles away, etcetera, etcetera, but he hadn’t known the boy could communicate telepathically as well.

“And I’m his twin,” Mando sighs, taking off his own helmet and revealing a startlingly similar face, marred by a scar just across his temple. “Cody.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you all,” Obi-Wan tells them, drumming his fingers on the table. “You know already. I fought under the name Ilum. I could--”

He searches for words to describe his own powers, and settles instead on a demonstration. With a flick of his hand, the liquid in the mug rises and freezes into a miniature wave, suspended in the air.

He lets the ice drop into the mug, and inclines his head to Ahsoka. “Iced tea?” he asks wryly.

“Tell us about Mustafar,” Mando demands. What a heavy thing to carry, Obi-Wan finds himself thinking. The knowledge of all that time.

What Obi-Wan wouldn’t give to be ten years younger again. Not to even change anything, though he would be stupid to not try to. But to just enjoy the moment for what it had been in the end: just a moment.

“We didn’t call him that then,” Obi-Wan sighs and rubs a hand over his face. “We called him Iego in uniform, and Anakin in civvies.

“He was...radiant. In battle and off the field. I was the leader of our team for six years until Anakin came along. And I just knew as soon as I saw him that he would take everything from me. But he wouldn’t have had to take it. I would have given it to him right then.”

“I didn’t think he was that attractive,” Ahsoka mumbles, and then slaps a hand over her mouth as if afraid she’s spoken out of turn and ruined the story so completely that Obi-Wan won’t say anything else.

Instead, Obi-Wan laughs but it doesn’t sound much like a laugh at all. “Well, to each is his own, of course,” he says when he thinks the hysteria has worn off. “And finding out he carried my soul mark certainly helped.”

The room is blissfully silent, which Obi-Wan is beyond thankful for. He just wants to let those never-before admitted truths hang in the air, just for a few more seconds. He almost wants to say them again actually. Anakin Skywalker is my soulmate. Anakin Skywalker carries the same mark I carry, and he always has.

“But…” Barriss says slowly, “But Mustafar’s soulmark is on his neck.”

“It’s not,” Obi-Wan murmurs, staring at the wall behind their heads. “What he has on his neck is an ice burn scar in the shape of a hand. In the shape of my hand. His actual soul mark is on his mid-back, right over his spine.”

“You tried to kill your soulmate?” Ahsoka gasps, looking horrified.

Obi-Wan smiles with no joy behind it. “I tried to save the world,” he corrects her gently.

“You said earlier…” Cody speaks up. “That Mustafar--that Anakin had a fiancee. It wasn’t you, was it?”

“No,” Obi-Wan admits. “I never told him. I...couldn’t. I wanted to wait I suppose. I. Well. My soulmark is identical to his, but it’s on my thigh. And. You know what they say about a soulmatch whose marks aren’t in the same spot.” “Star crossed,” Ahsoka whispers.

“Yes,” Obi-Wan confirms. “I decided to wait. I was a few years older than him, he had so much to learn, he needed a friend more than he needed a soulmate. I had a long list of reasons, all as iron-clad as the next. But they were excuses. I was afraid. This man, my soulmate, could control fire and sunlight itself. He burned with passion, shone with power. And I...I was cold. Too pragmatic, too quick to criticize when he needed praise. The marks were just marks. Maybe they fit together, maybe they matched. But I was terrified that we wouldn’t.

“And by the time I thought to tell him, he came to find me instead. He was in love, he said. He had been seeing a girl for months and was going to ask her to marry him. And I suppose I must have asked about his soulmate, because he told me he would rather never know his soulmate, if knowing meant losing her.”

So. So Obi-Wan had let him go, though that part doesn’t make for a good story. He had distanced himself as much as he could get away with, which is not much really, seeing as how Iego and Ilum fought best when they fought together.

But in the end, his heartbreak had been too much, even for someone as cold as Obi-Wan had been known to be. He’d put in for a temporary transfer. A remedial medical leave, a Jedi-sanctioned sabbatical so he could ostensibly connect with himself and his powers. Nothing longer than a year.

You’ll miss the wedding, Anakin had told him, heartbreak shining in his own eyes.

But his heartbreak had been nothing compared to Obi-Wan’s, and so he had left. He had needed to. It had felt like rending his soul in two, but he had.

Two weeks into his stay at a different Jedi training base, Obi-Wan had died in an explosion. “That hadn’t been Jedi sanctioned,” he tells the children in front of him wryly. “We thought it was an accident at the time, but there were too many coincidences. Too many casualties.” But Obi-Wan’s death had been the only casualty Anakin had felt. It hadn’t mattered that someone had managed to restart his heart only a few minutes later. He had died. He had died and Anakin had felt his soulmate die. He had burned his fiancee in his own uncontrollable agony. She had not survived Obi-Wan’s death, even though Obi-Wan himself had.

“I...I don’t know what happened. Still. It’s been years and I have thought of little else. She may have been standing too close to him when it happened. Or...the house may have caught on fire and she was trapped inside. Or...I don’t know. I don’t know,” he spreads his hands palm up on the table and looks at the faces of the children.

He sighs and continues. There is so little left in the story now. “The Jedi Order decided to tell the press that there had been no survivors, though there had been a few. We couldn’t know if the Imperials were behind the attack or not, so we had to be careful. The survivor’s families were told, and their soulmates. Officially, I had no family. I had...no soulmate. They didn’t tell anyone I had survived. Ilum died in that explosion. Still to this day, he's dead.

“Anakin had always been absurdly powerful...and dangerous. He’d killed the love of his life, had felt his soulmate dying, and then...heard that I too had died. The first two had destabilized him, but my death and the Jedi Order’s staunch rejection of his request to see my body, to give me a funeral...it made him even more vulnerable to outside manipulation.”

“The Imperials….” Cody murmurs.

Obi-Wan nods, lip curling up. “The Imperials,” he agrees. “The timeline is fuzzy. I spent a good part of these weeks partially dead, one foot in both worlds. I didn’t know what was going on. When I was well enough to watch the news, the Jedi told me there was a new super villain working with the Imperials, going by the name Mustafar. I trained to kill him as he was helping the Imps decimate the Jedi. All of my old team was dead. Anakin was missing. I didn’t--”

He cuts himself off and runs a hand down his face. The children are waiting on his words. He’s telling them why they’re fighting wars adults should be fighting. He’s telling them why they’re out in the field after only a month or less of training. He’s trying to tell them why he isn’t out there fighting with them, but he knows already they won’t accept his excuses.

They shouldn’t have to.

“They gave me a new uniform and a new name,” Obi-Wan picks up the story. “Hoth. And I went off to kill my soulmate.”

“But you didn’t,” Barriss says, and she sounds vaguely confused and vaguely accusatory.

“I almost did,” Obi-Wan admits, like it’s a sin, like it's salvation. “Everything about him was different. He was not the passionate but warm boy I had known. He was a forest fire. A volcano. And Mustafar’s fighting style was completely different from Iego’s. I only realized it was Anakin--my Anakin--when I managed to knock his mask off. I had my hand around his throat, but when I realized who I was fighting...I let go. I couldn’t kill him. Even after everything he did. Even knowing...knowing Iego was gone.”

The dining room is silent for a second, before three voices burst out angrily at once.

“Why aren’t you helping the Jedi?” Ahsoka asks the loudest. “Hoth--Ilum, Obi-Wan. We need you. Mustafar--the Imperials...they’re not going to stop. They’ve killed so many Jedi. We need you to help us.”

“I’m sorry,” Obi-Wan says. “I cannot.”

“You used to be a hero,” Barriss accuses. “Now what are you? A hollowed out, sad man.”

“I was never a hero,” he snaps. “I followed orders. Anyone can do that.”

“You were the best,” Cody says quietly, cutting Obi-Wan to the bone. “You led the Geonosis team for six years. I studied you in class. You were...the best.”

“I wasn’t,” Obi-Wan disagrees just as quietly. “But perhaps you all are.”

“You haven’t even told us any weakness we could use against him in battle!” Barriss shouts, standing up suddenly, which causes the chair to clatter over. “You’ve been no help at all! I’m leaving, this is a waste of time!”

“Barriss--!” Ahsoka cries after the girl, grabbing her discarded mask and taking after her.

Cody opens his mouth and then closes it. He jams the helmet back onto his head. “The soulmark. You said it’s on his hip?”

Obi-Wan smiles mirthlessly. Cody is trying to see if he can catch him in a lie, if this is actually good tactical information or not. “It’s a few inches below his shoulder blades, right over his spine.”

Cody nods once and then files out, leaving Obi-Wan alone in the room with the silent, still helmetless Rex.

“I just told him how to kill my supervillain soulmate,” Obi-Wan tells Rex, even though he’s really talking to himself. “Soulmarks, even dead ones, are extremely sensitive. If Anakin had hit me with his fire on my other thigh, I would be dead. Not just crippled. Muscle, young man, doesn’t grow back easily.”

He rubs a hand over the leg in question, staring down at the uneven way his pants lay over the old injury. It aches from the walking he’s forced it to do today, from trying to walk normally im front of these powerful strangers.

Rex taps the table to get him to look up, and then gestures to his own eyes.

“I?” Obi-Wan asks, confused.

Rex rolls his eyes and then mimes writing something.

“Ah, there should be a pen and pad in the kitchen?” he trails off as the teenager goes to retrieve the aforementioned things.

It takes a second longer than it should, and he comes out carrying just a slip of paper with his helmet forced back onto his head.

With a flick of his fingers, the paper’s lying on the table and Rex is following his teammates out the door and out of Obi-Wan’s apartment and hopefully out of his life forever.

Curious, Obi-Wan grabs the note and unfolds it to read.

We thought Musta. had yel. eyes because all the top Imps have yel. eyes. But if Ankn had blue eyes, then mybe none of the imps should have yel eyes.

No one knows what sidious power is -> what if it’s mind control?

Obi-Wan puts the note down onto the table with shaking hands. He wishes desperately he had never read it.

Because those words plant a seed of hope in his chest he isn’t sure he’ll be able to live without now.

What if Anakin--his Anakin--what if he’s in there still? What if Obi-Wan had abandoned him to ten years of brainwashing and mind control with not much of a fight at all?

But more pressingly, what if there’s hope for him? For both of them? Still, after all this time?

[comfortwriting]

Best Friends Boyfriend - G.W

Masterlist, Requesting Rules, Writing Prompts

Part 2 of my slow burn mini-series, inspired by and dedicated to @amourtentiaa , want to be tagged? Let me know!

This chapter is inspired by @amourtentiaa ‘s Owlery which you can learn more about and access here.

Please read Part 1 if you haven't already!

George Weasley x Fem Reader slow burn 

Warnings: Fluff.

You couldn’t get last night out of your head, the sound of George whispering to you, asking you out on a date, how his beautiful face looked from the amber tones coming from the flames that radiated against his face, the way he smiled and licked his lips.

Laying in bed wide awake you kept your hand over your mouth, trying to hold in your giggles so you wouldn’t wake up Hermione and your other dorm mates. You couldn’t believe it - you’re going on a date, with George Weasley, the lad you fancy more than anyone else in the world - the only problem, your best friend, George’s younger brother, Ron, wouldn’t approve and would do anything to make sure the two of you keep well away from one another.

Throughout the whole day, you played it cool when passing George in the common room or the great hall, but as the day moved on and afternoon turned into evening, you couldn’t stop the giggles of excitement from bursting out, and the tint of pink to spread across your cheeks.

You had two hours until you were meeting George, for now, you sat in the common room with Ron and Hermione whilst Harry had Occlumency lessons with Snape.

“What d’you keep giggling about?” Ron hissed at you, scowling “you’ve been at it all day and you’re freaking me out.”

You covered your face with your hands, taking a deep breath and trying to calm the bubbling of nerves and excitement.

“N-Nothing” you replied, “I think I inhaled a dodgy potion somebody was brewing in the second-floor toilets this morning” you lied, avoiding eye contact with your best friend and his crush, Hermione.

Ron gave you an odd look and flashed his eyes to Hermione, who glared at him and shrugged her shoulders.

“Shouldn’t you go to Madame Pomfrey?” she suggested, knitting another hat for the house-elves.

Nodding your head, you got out of your chair and pursed your lips, “yeah, I think I will” you lied again “let me go and get freshened up, she might want to keep me in overnight if the giggles get worse” you smirked, chuckling.

Leaving your friends behind, you hurried off to your dorm room, getting your makeup, clothes, and shoes ready to put on after your shower, placing your clothes and makeup bag on the bed, kicking your shoes on the floor beside it.

“I dunno what's up with her” Ron huffed, slouching in his chair beside the fire.

Hermione continued knitting “Well, hopefully, Madame Pomfrey can sort her out, uncontrollable giggling can get you sent to St. Mungo’s.”

Ron focused on the bobble hat coming together in front of his eyes, trying to make sense of your behaviour today and if there was something else going on after his brother played Hero during the end of your horrific date.

Wearing your best black denim front pocket Pinafore dress over your red and yellow striped turtleneck and black tights, you stared at yourself in the mirror, blushing slightly at the thought of George seeing you dolled up just for him. You pouted, deep in thought and unsure of what hairstyle to do, checking the time you were cutting it close and decided your go-to natural, no school but not overdoing it hairstyle would be best.

“Tomorrow night, where we first met” you reminded yourself, hearing George’s voice inside your head.

Thinking long and hard about when you first met George and where, you closed your eyes and tried to focus, all of your memories whizzing around in your head - you couldn’t help but feel your heart flutter knowing that not only did George remember, but he also perhaps thought of that day often.

Hurrying out of your dorm and back into the common room, Harry now sat down with Hermione and Ron, they all seemed taken aback by your appearance, furrowing their brows at you.

“You’re a bit dressed up for a doctors appointment, aren’t you?” Hermione called out.

Ron looked at you from head to toe “I think you’ve overdone it, mate-”

“See you later!” you giggled, a spring in your step as you left the common room, going through the portrait hole.

Ron, Harry, and Hermione exchanged looks, none of them knowing what to think or say was becoming a reoccurring factor today.

“Something isn’t right at all” Ron muttered “she’s up to something”

Reaching the owlery, you felt your excitement and nervousness compete against one another inside of you, being a few minutes early, you had enough time to admire all of the owls around you who were getting ready to go out hunting. Each of them unique and calming to look at, stroke, and hear a hoot. The memories finally coming back to you more clearly.

Your first week at Hogwarts went more awful than you ever imagined, you had got lost on the way to your classes, got into trouble by Percy - your houses Prefect and due to your terrible potion skills Snape put you in a weeks detention, your parents were so angry you received a Howler before anyone else in your class.

Feeling lost, alone, and in need of a friend, you wrote out your worries, concerns and everything else you were feelings into letters, addressed to your friends attending other Wizarding Schools (like Ilvermorny) across the globe.

Writing about your feelings, life, and anything, in general, helped to make you feel better, heard, and less isolated from the impressive and promising classmates that surrounded you.

Walking up the long and steep steps up to the Owlery, your heart melted at the Owls, some sleeping, some bobbing their heads around, and others appearing to be smiling at you. You felt connected to them in some sort of way, and spending time with them, knowing they didn’t care about your house, or how well you could make a feather float in the air made you feel more at ease.

You stared and smiled at your Tawny owl named Penny, you approached her trying to avoid the owl droppings and rat carcasses and stroked her softly, handing her your letters.

“Please deliver these safely,” you told her, tears filling your eyes again “it’s taken a lot for me to write them”

Penny accepted the letters and understood how important this job was, and how much it would mean to you, she pecked at your cheek, little kisses against your tears before she flapped her gorgeous wings and took flight.

Not wanting to go back down to your Herbology class to be a laughing stock, you stayed in the owlery, falling to the floor and weeping.

“If these reports get sent home mum will kill us” once voice spoke out, panting up the stairs.

“Well” replied a similar voice, also panting “we need to change our grades and get one of these owls to send it to her for us, it's why I made a fake replica”

Their voices and footsteps came closer.

“As long as Errol and Hermes aren’t delivering it, we’ll be fine Georgie.”

Two tall twins with ginger hair walked into the Owlery shiftily, both of them stopping in their tracks, noticing you crying on the floor, drowning in your robes.

George’s face and heart softened, he mouthed to his brother ‘leave it with me, I’ll get it sent, let me see why she’s upset’

Freddie nodded and slowly left the Owlery, trying not to make a sound.

You missed Penny with all your heart, after many trips she became so sick and injured no magic, and no amount of Hagrid’s care and love was enough to fix her wings and bring her back to life. When you lost Penny, you lost part of yourself, the Owlery wasn’t the same without her and each time you visited, you would break down into tears.

“You made it, early” George called out, pulling you out of your trip down memory lane, causing you to jump slightly.

You blinked back the forming tears and turned around to face him, the moonlight illuminating his best features through the open arches. “Didn’t want to be late” you replied, smiling nervously, stroking one of the owls.

“You were so little” George chuckled “but even after growing up so much somethings never change”

You cocked up an eyebrow and smirked, slightly confused “what do you mean?”

“The owls” he replied “your love for them, the time you make for them, it’s beautiful”

You could feel your cheeks heating up, your heart rate elevating.

“They’re special to me” you replied, trying not to come across as too shy.

George blushed too, his cheeks mirroring yours as he stepped closer, so close you could count each individual freckle across his face - something you had only done from across the halls or over the table.

“that’s why I asked for us to meet here,” George said softly, stepping closer to you, his breath brushing against you “because you’re special to me”

George took hold of your hand, tracing stars into your palm with his thumb, his eyes taking in your hair, your makeup, your outfit, and shoes. He started to lean in, as did you, your soft lips brushing against his cinnamon scented ones, but pulled away before you could share a kiss, smirking and winking at you.

“I’ve got a surprise for you,” he said nervously “I’ve been trying to give her to you for a while now, but whenever I’ve tried, Ron always got in the way”

You rolled your eyes “he always does” you replied “he doesn’t like the idea of us being together” you frowned, looking away from George and lowering your head, deciding to examine your shoes.

George lifted your chin up with his thumb, smiling at you “he doesn’t have to know” he paused “stay very quiet and follow me” he whispered, still holding your hand.

George walked you over to a very tired looking owl, her wings and body covering something small underneath her. George whispered to the owl “It’s George, she’s ready now”

The tired owl opened her googly eyes, staring at George, slowly and reluctantly moving away from her precious possession underneath her motherly wings. Underneath the wings lay a tiny owlet, its large magnificent eyes opening wide and staring at George, then you.

“I know he’ll never replace Penny” George murmured, wrapping his arm around you “but I want you to have a safe space here, I know how much of that Penny provided for you and I know how much of that changed when she passed away.”

You reached out your hand to stroke the baby, “it’s okay” you reassured his nervous mother “I’m not going to hurt him”

You ran the back of your finger down the Owlets fluffy back, its face showing signs of enjoyment and comfort, something rare amongst owls.

George watched in awe, the memories of you when you were much shorter and quieter flashing before him, now you were a beautiful young woman, with the same heart full of love and nurturing.

Tears of happiness streamed down your cheeks, you leaned into George and cuddled him, your face pressed against his chest, the scent of the burrow engulfing you.

“George - I - thank you, he’s beautiful”

George closed his eyes, taking in your face against his chest, his hand stroking your hair.

“I care for you, Y/N” he spoke out again “I know we were never that close, but you’re not just my little brother's friend to me”

You pulled yourself off his chest, looking up into his gorgeous eyes.

“like these owls, you’re unique, you’re special” he whispered.

“What’s your obsession with these owls anyway?” the tall boy asked, fiddling with his fake report.

“They’re unique” you replied quietly, walking around “they’re special”

George looked down into your eyes, his nose poking yours softly, leaning in, you didn’t pull back and allowed him to pull you gently into him.

His heart and yours racing, as your hand rested upon his chest, and his arm around your waist, your lips grazing against each other, turning into a deep, soft kiss.

Tag list: @amourtentiaa @reeophidian @inglourious-imagines @slutforsebstan @alwaysnforeverfangirl @horrorxweasley @xmalfoyweasleyx @freddiemylovelg