#don’t get me wrong I wouldn’t hold it against my old friends but it’s like getting different friends in collage because you don’t have

[death-and-the-codein-scene]

Girl who’s stuck in a time loop but doesn’t want to leave because she’s mastered 4 new languages and many new crafts and is having the time of her life just being able to relax without the pressure of modern society. One day she decides to hang out with her friends because it’s been a quite few loops since shes hung out them only to find out she’s now unrecognizable to them and think she’s pulling a bit. Now she has to decide between leaving the comfort and security of the time loop where she can’t have any more meaningful relationships or leaving the loop and having to start over because she can’t possible continue as things were

[neiptune]

is it casual now?

cw: 2.7k wc, NSFT, f!reader, reader wears a dress + makeup, suggestive, vaginal fingering, you're absolutely certain the man you're seeing isn't the jealous type but perhaps his friend knows better...

“Wait, ‘Tsumu, stop moving”, you grumble as you take his face in your hands and gently rub your thumbs over his lower eyelids, “it’s all smudged, why’d you let your teammate do it?”.

“He said I’d look hot”, he pouts, leaning into your hold. You roll your eyes.

“It does suit you but next time please pick a waterproof eyeliner”.

As you keep carefully cleaning the stubborn black blotches, Atsumu’s eyes dart to a spot behind you. Whatever he sees, makes him snicker.

“I said don’t move”, you roughly keep his face in place when he attempts to peek over your shoulder even further.

“Your man’s upset”, he asserts, amusement dripping from every syllabe. You furrow your brows in confusion and follow his gaze for a second. Sure enough, you meet Shoyo’s eyes right away. He simply smiles back but there’s something simmering underneath it, something that makes the corners of his mouth a little tense.

While you’re happy to be at a fun housewarming party, Inunaki’s new apartment is a million degrees and you’ve never been more grateful for your choice of makeup. When he approached the little chatty group as you were being introduced to Alexandre, lips pursed and a desperate plea to fix his face, Atsumu looked like a mess.

“He’s not my man”, you mutter, thumb rubbing a little more hashly to remove the last remaining smudges.

“Does he know?”.

“We’re just seein’ each other. Plus, he’s not the jealous type”.

“Man”, Atsumu chuckles, “you really don’t know Shoyo”. He kinda gets off to the fact that even his friend doesn’t seem to know himself well enough, always far too busy being the nice guy. But that facade can sometimes waver, especially when others start relying a bit too much on how much of a nice dude he is.

You flick Atsumu’s forehead before letting go of his face, the petulant oww! making you laugh. And then you’re far too engrossed in the warmth rising from your neck to your cheeks as the familiar weight of a muscular arm suddenly settles over your shoulders, to notice your friend’s pleased smirk. Oh, Bokuto is so going to lose the bet.

“Hey, what are you guys doin’?”, Shoyo’s tone is light. Neither of you is big on PDA and frankly you’re not even a couple but the heat radiating from his body is so comforting, you can’t help but melt into his side a little. He pulls you closer, calloused fingertips faintly brushing against your neck.

“I needed some help with my eyeliner”, Atsumu flashes his usual million dollar smile.

“That so?”, Hinata’s eyes slightly crinkle at the corners, “I told Kotaro that brand was the wrong choice”.

“Thank god someone was here to fix it. I look good now, right?”, the question is explicitly directed at you and the implication of what he’s trying to do makes you giggle.

“You do, ‘Tsumu”.

“Why, thank you! Although not nearly as good as you, where’d ya even get that dress?”.

“I picked it”, Shoyo is still nonchalant, just a normal answer to a regular question, but his old teammate knows better. “I think Sakusa was looking for you”.

Atsumu tilts his head to the side, tongue in cheek. “Really?”.

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure he was wandering ‘round asking about you. Don’t let us keep you”, Hinata smiles, the hand holding a flute of champagne rises to vaguely indicate the kitchen.

The older Miya hums, reassuring, waves goodbye with the promise of finding you later. You watch him scurry away with a weird skip in his step and can’t help but laugh again: he hasn’t changed at all.

“Having fun?”, Shoyo lifts his arm from your shoulders but keeps a warm hand sprawled on your back.

“Yes”, you smile, “everyone’s really nice, thank you for inviting me”.

“I wouldn’t fully enjoy it without you here”, he beams, “Shion says you’re the only one who can get ‘Tsumu to shut up”.

A timid giggle, for his ears only at last. “You guys simply don’t try hard enough”.

Shoyo moves his hand down until it rests on the small of your back, big and comforting as his touch always is. The warmth seeping through the thin fabric of your dress makes something in your chest flutter with need.

“Come, you didn’t meet Akaashi yet”.

The next hour is a blur of introductions, pleasant conversations, familiar faces and new ones cordially welcoming you in a way that never once made you feel nervous about a setting where everyone already knows each other.

It’s the first time Shoyo’s officially asked if you wanted to hang out with his friends, the first time in a social setting where it’s not just the two of you. Does that mean he’s inclined to take the next step, maybe ask if the dating can become less casual? Something exclusive? Not that you’ve been seeing anyone else ever since meeting him. As if that could’ve been possible, even if you wanted to.

You remember that night out in Osaka, casually running into an old friend in a crowded bar, right by the counter. You couldn’t believe he was still sporting the same ridiculous bottle blond hair. After a few minutes of pleasantries Atsumu wasted no time in diverting his attention, the idea of your cute friend feeling left out a possibility his generous heart simply couldn’t handle. And so, as the two (much to your horror) hit it off, you were left awkwardly standing to the side, eyes scanning the packed tables to keep yourself busy until someone with a deep, kind voice invited you to sit next to him.

Hinata looked nothing short of gorgeous underneath the red-yellow lights, confident smile and charming, hazel eyes inviting as ever. You were lured in right away. You both briefly joked about having been brutally left out but he didn’t seem to mind really, not as he got to buy you a drink and ask questions about how you and Atsumu knew each other. Neither of you noticed when he left with your friend, far too absorbed in a conversation that effortlessly went on and on for what felt like five minutes but was instead an hour. It was like a dream: your thigh pressed to his, fingers closed around cold glasses casually brushing against each other.

When he offered to walk you home, you wouldn’t dream of refusing. You still remember how you’d both melt in giggles when the questions overlapped, your curiosity revolving around his career in a foreign country and interests fiercely rivaled by his eagerness to unravel every mystery you held. Asking if he felt like having another drink at yours was a temptation you couldn’t resist, but Shoyo politely refused right by your apartment, lopsided grin exuding a magnetism you felt desperately attracted to.

I’d like to take you out on a real date first.

You remember the smile stretching your lips, the panic that followed upon realizing that your phone was long forgotten in your friend’s purse. You remember Shoyo’s fingers gently wrapping around your wrist as he jotted down his number on your palm, murmuring something about the traditional way being more fun. It had been forever since a man had given you his number and, with that, the freedom to choose whether to text him or not. Hinata really felt different from the very start.

He’s just the guy you’ve been seeing for the past month and a half. The man you wish to be exclusive with, the mere idea of calling him your boyfriend stirring a storm of butterflies in your core.

Neither of you is big on PDA and yet his hands get increasingly bold, always decent but unable to stay away from your body. Shoyo’s always touching you somehow: a gentle hold on your hip, fingers brushing against the exposed skin of your arm, one hand on your back guiding you across the living room. You decide to get bold too. After he excitedly brings you a plate of puff pastries filled with chocolate cream, while he distractedly details the training program his team is going to have to resume in Brasil, your thumb reaches up to his mouth and gently skims over the corner of his lips, to collect the excess of chocolate cream. Shoyo stops mid sentence, lips parted as he watches you bring that same thumb to your mouth with a coy smile.

“Hey guys”, Atsumu’s voice startles you but not him, still so intently focused on you and nothing else, “Samu has a few questions about the next tournament, Sho, the sponsorship…”.

Hinata offers his friend a smile and his plate of pastries. “Let’s talk about this later, ‘Tsumu”.

The setter blinks, a knowing smile slowly finding its way onto his lips.

“Sure”, he then redirects his attention to you, “having a good time? Man, did I tell ya how pretty ya look tonight? Like, really p—”

For the first time throughout the evening, Shoyo’s hand daringly takes yours, palm warm and solid against your own. “Sorry, kinda busy at the moment. Don’t worry though, I’ll make sure to pass the message”, he grins warmly at his friend, who’s left nearly as dumbfounded as you when Hinata slips his fingers in between yours and pulls you away with him, deaf to whoever calls after him as you trail behind, passing by small groups of guests who look at you funny while you stumble all the way up the stars in a fit of laughter.

“What’s going on?”, although amused, you can barely keep up with his bold strides. He’s so quick you don’t quite understand how it happens when he bursts into the bathroom, rapidly closes the door and presses you up against it with the utmost urgency. Shoyo only relaxes when your noses are finally brushing, his broad hands finding their designated place on your hips, lightly pushing the skirt of your dress up in the process. You feel the relief in his exhale and chuckle, nudge the tip of his nose with yours.

“Hi”, he murmurs, the ghost of a smile teasing plush lips.

“Hi”, you whisper back, amused. Shoyo cocks his head a little, mouth almost touching yours but not quite, the scent of his cologne making your head spin.

“Missed you”.

“I’ve been here the whole time?”.

“Yeah”, he breathes, “but I couldn’t do this”, the kiss is tentative at first, sweet, but Shoyo soon can’t help himself. Not when you wrap your arms around his neck, one hand messily carding through his hair and tugging lightly at the strands. The way he likes it.

With a soft groan, he urges you to further part your lips with a needy skirt of the tongue along their seam and you’re happy to comply, allow him to deepen the kiss even if your lungs pose the risk of collapsing from the lack of oxygen. You can’t bring yourself to care as Shoyo roughly feels the back of your thighs and then squeezes, a silent demand. Once more, you yield easily and jump, a strong arm wraps around your middle as he catches you with close to no effort and a boyish grin, your legs tight around his waist as he shuffles to the marble countertop. You refuse to let him go even after he gently rests you on it, legs still wrapped around his hips as you take his face between your palms and kiss him some more, until Shoyo’s the one who has to pull back with a soft gasp for air.

“To what do I owe the honor?”, you ask, chest heaving, lips swollen and sleek with spit. He smiles, one thumb gently rubbing at the skin underneath your bottom lip, in a useless attempt at clearing up some of the drastically smudged lipstick.

“What? I can’t kiss my girl?”.

My girl. The way he can make those two simple words sound makes your stomach churn.

“Besides”, Shoyo starts sponging kisses over the juncture between your shoulder and neck and a content sigh slips past your lips, “Atsumu was being severely belittling. Pretty”, he clicks his tongue in disapproval, “you look breathtaking tonight”. As if to underline his point, rough palms slide up your exposed thighs and start rubbing comforting circles by your hips, the skirt of your dress pretty much completely lifted now as he starts tracing your neck with lips that are dangerously skilled.

“Shoyo”, it’s meant to be a warning but it comes out weaker. A plea.

“Can I show you? How beautiful I think you are?”, his voice is gravelly now, serious in its reverence. Traitorous desire licks at your core when his knuckles brush against the cotton of your panties, gut already tight in anticipation.

“What if, ah... someone comes in?”, the single ounce of reason left in your brain puts on a good fight but is inevitably flickering like a candle. Hinata disrupts your prudence the same way air flowing around a flame shatters its balance of oxygen supply.

“Then they’ll know too”, he sounds way too pleased with himself and you’re about to protest, you really are, but he’s suddenly mouthing at the spot below the corner of your jaw and it’s harsher than usual. When Shoyo sinks his teeth into your soft skin you gasp and subconsciously roll your hips against him, the twinge of pain soon soothed by the warmth of his tongue.

This is so unlike him. Not the passion, nor the eagerness, but the greed. It feels like he’s trying to consume you whole and you’re too drunk on the sensation to realize that maybe, just maybe, Atsumu had a point. Hinata’s not the jealous type but could it be that he might just be the possessive kind instead?

One of his fingers catches in the waistband of your underwear and you istinctively loosen the hold of your legs around his waist, parting them instead to open yourself up for him. It’s still not enough of an authorization in his book.

“Can I touch you?”, he whispers and his breath fans hot over the wet, sore spot of your neck.

“Please”, you breathe and he kisses you again with a satisfied hum, slow, deliberate. The coldness of a metal ring presses to your heat, already so slick with aching arousal, as two fingers easily slide through. It’s crazy, the effect his touch has on your body, every nerve ending catching fire as soon as he so much as grazes it. Did a man ever make you feel the same way? You don’t remember, you can hardly even think as you produce the softest moans against his mouth, hips rocking to meet the steady motion of his fingers, damp forehead pressing to yours just as desperately. The way he's panting only turns you on more.

When he abruptly removes his hand, way before you have the chance to come undone at the mercy of his skilled touch, the outright obscene wail you let out makes him chuckle.

“See?”, he murmurs, breathless, glossy fingers lifted high and carefully inspected in the brightly illuminated bathroom, much to your embarrassment. “Beautiful”.

Shoyo is not poking fun at you, quite the opposite: he’s dead serious. It’s his pure devotion that does it each time for you, the way he conveys how devastatingly attracted he is to you. Maybe it’s the need burning hot in your abdomen, the treacherous pleasure still pulsating in your limbs, but suddenly you’re eager to let him know too. Your fingers impulsively close around his wrist and stop his hand from reaching his mouth, head inching forward to capture his tanned fingers with your lips instead.

Shoyo’s pupils blow. The way his jaw tenses sends a shudder down your spine. It’s with a disbelieving groan that he presses down onto your tongue, warm and so wet around him as you carefully suck to the knuckle. His other hand catches your cheek, roughly cups it but is attentive in tilting your head back, to get a better view.

“Fuck”, he mutters, “how did I get so lucky?”.

He keeps his eyes on you as he easily slips out of your grip, with a wet pop. You want to tell him that you’re the lucky one, still in disbelief at how or why a man who looks like that, with a heart so big, is choosing to stay by your side. But Shoyo takes your face in his hands with a faint smile, gently angles it to inspect the prominent shadow forming underneath your jaw.

“This”, his thumb fondly strokes the tender skin, “is for them”. He kisses your lips once, then gently unclasps your fingers from his white button down as he gets down on both knees without ever breaking eye contact.

“This”, your breath catches when he further parts your knees, nibbles softly at your inner thigh before kissing it tenderly. The way he deeply breathes your scent in after tugging your panties aside sends a wave of fresh arousal rippling through your veins. “This is for me”.

[dira333]

Don't tease - Tsukishima x reader

A/N: 1k, fluff, requested by @missalienqueen

Tsukishima is going to be the death of you.

“You really wanna do it that way?”

You tense immediately, hoping he’ll leave you alone just once. But to no avail.

“I didn’t think I’ve ever seen a filing system this… creative,” Tsukishima drawls. He’s looming over you, a tall shadow of incessant teasing. Ever since you’ve started working at the museum, he seems to have it out for you. He shows up during your tours, butts in when you get a few hours to yourself to work on your recent thesis and just never leaves you alone. 

If he could keep his mouth shut doing so, it would only be half as harrowing, because he’s actually kinda cute - as long as he’s not narrowing his eyes at you like this.

Tsukishima often reminds you of your old principal. That man too had been a pole of judgment, always present at the wrong time. You had hated that man and Tsukishima was beginning to… okay, you weren’t kidding anyone, you could probably never hate Tsukishima. If he isn’t tormenting you, he’s polite and sincere in his work and you can tell by the way he treats the rest of the staff that he can be kind when he wants to. 

So why does he treat only you like this?

“Let me do it,” he insists at that moment. “Wouldn’t want you to break a nail from all the hard work.”

Your mouth opens before you even register it. “If you want to work as an Educator instead of a Curator you could have just applied for that position when it was free instead of trying to bully me out of it.”

Tsukishima stiffens. He’s never resembled a pole more than at this moment, all his limbs locked tight to his body as he stares into space. You can’t really tell if his face is turning pale too because your own body is locking up, heat flushing your face as you press a hand to your mouth. You’ve never been this bold before. 

“I’m sorry!” You rush out when you can speak again, “I didn’t mean-”

“But you did.” He insists, voice low and… dejected? No, you have to be mistaken.

“I… well… yeah.” You stutter. “I mean… You have it out for me. I don’t know what I did to deserve that treatment, but if you want my job so bad, you should have just applied for it. The position was vacant for months.”

“I don’t want your job,” Tsukishima presses through his teeth. His eyes are looking everywhere but at you. His cheeks are flushed now and you can almost see steam coming from his ears when he adds: “I want you.”

You blink.

You blink again.

Tsukishima pushes himself away from the filing cabinet, his movements stiff and awkward.

“I’m sorry I made you think I was bullying you.” His voice sounds almost unfamiliar. 

When he bows you notice how red his neck has gotten.

He really is ashamed.

“You have a weird way of showing that.” Your hands itch to hold onto something. To make sure that this is real. 

“I… well…” Tsukishima rubs his neck with one hand, eyes darting across the room. “I’ve been told before that teasing someone instead of clearly communicating could go wrong but I didn’t really believe it. After all, it worked for my… friend.”

“Your friend was probably nicer about it.” You point out, your tongue heavy in your mouth. What are you supposed to do now? Knowing he likes you? 

“I… probably.” He swallows thickly, offers you his hand. “I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”

You shake it. The warmth of his skin against yours and the strength of his grip sends a shiver up your back. 

He turns, cheeks still pink.

“Well, I’ll… I’ll let you do your work then. I’m sorry I interrupted.”

Tsukishima is almost at the door when you untangle the knot in your tongue, brace against the nervous stutter of your heart.

“You could have just asked me out.”

He swirls around so fast you fear it’s going to give him whiplash. The look on his face is something you want to burn into your brain. It’s the delight of a child mixed with the anxiety of someone who’s been let down before. His eyes narrow immediately like he has to make sure you’re not playing him.

You nod, no longer able to form words.

“So…” He clears his throat. “Are you… free? Tonight?”

You nod again.

A smile lights up his face, boyish and bright. Your heart stops for a second before it hammers at twice its usual speed. Tsukishima is going to be the death of you.

-

Tsukishima is going to be the death of you.

“You really wanna do it that way?”

You nod, typing away. Behind you, the cushions of your shared couch rustle as he maneuvers around. He leans onto you, heavy and warm, face pressed into your neck.

“But I want to cuddle.” Tsukishima drawls. 

“And I want to finish this thesis. You told me I would have more than enough time today.”

“And you will. You just have to cuddle first.”

You try to send him a glare, but his face is hidden away in your hair.

“Tsukishima!”

“Kei,” he corrects you immediately.

“Tsukki,” you compromise and he groans. 

“If someone would let me focus, I’d be finished in half an hour and then we could cuddle.”

He huffs. “You’re no fun.”

“You’re not either.”

“Fine.” He gets up. His tone is all snappy, but he winks at you to let you know he doesn’t mean it. He still might be infuriating and annoying, but he’s gotten way better at communicating when he’s actually mad and when he’s just playing for cuddles.

“What are you doing?” You ask when he stalks toward the bedroom.

“I’m going to put on my cutest outfit. We’ll see if that convinces you.”

“Take your time!” You call after him as you pick up your typing. “And send a picture to Yamaguchi when you’re done. I’m sure he’ll appreciate seeing you in the Dino-Onesie he bought you.”

He sends you one last glare.

You return to your document, surprised to realize that all you’ve left to do is write the last paragraph. If you keep at it, you’ll be finished before the Onesie is zipped up.

With a confident grin you pick up speed.

My Kofi if you want to tip me

[wosoragebaiter69]

why would you train?

barça femeni x young!reader

prompt: i feel sick, i love sickfics. that’s it. it’s my symptoms into a story because it’s my only coping mechanism.

A/N: my friend made me sick and i’m acc annoyed now like wtf. i feel horrible.

TW: mentions of illness

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

When you wake up, it feels as if someone has ran you over with a bus and drove back to do it again. Your throat was sore, your head pounding and you overall felt lethargic. The worst thing was, training was today and no matter what you’d have to go. That’s probably not true, but its been like that all your life with trainings, why stop now?

Getting through the morning was a challenge, you hoped that if you had a throat lolly and paracetamol that everything would go away and the day would roll by smoothly. How wrong you were to think that.

You arrive at training around 10 minutes late due to traffic, which meant doing extra laps. You’re glad though, it means the others haven’t realised yet. You joined at 17 and the older girls really took you under their wing and essentially adopted you. In particular Lucy and Keira. You lived with the couple until around 7 months ago. You’re 19 now.

After completing the laps assigned by Alexia you make your way over to where everyone else is and give them a half-hearted smile before apologising to Alexia. She seems content and Jona starts to explain the main plans for training. Sprints, conditioning and a scrimmage at the end. You internally groan, this was the worst day to be sick on. You just nod along with your teammates and start warming up.

Keira jogs over next to you and examines your face.

“You alright? You seem a little on edge.” She asks softly.

“I’m fine, why wouldn’t I be?” You say a little too quickly, before running off at a faster pace.

- - - - -

After an hour or so, you feel lightheaded and start swaying before sitting on the ground. It seems the medicine did nothing to help and the previous numbness of your throat has now subsided and is replaced by the feeling of daggers. Mapi comes over sitting next to you, passing a water bottle.

“Are you ok?” She asks as you wince drinking the water that’s burning down your throat.

You nod slowly, not willing to speak but the movement only makes you feel like collapsing.

“Can I… go get someone? You don’t look too good cariño.” All you can do do is lean into her side, exhaustion taking over as your muscles ache. She makes hand movements.

Ingrid walks over along with Keira and Alexia, you notice Lucy speaking with Caroline. But still keeping a cautious eye on you from across the field.

“Hey elskling, you don’t look too bright.” Ingrid crouches down blocking the sun, which you’re eternally grateful for.

“Eh.” You shrug, looking at Keira, then Alexia and back to Ingrid.

“Mind telling us how you’re feeling? And do not lie.” This is one of the first times you’ve heard Ingrid be stern, it scares you in a way so you do as told.

“Sore throat, head hurts and feels weird and my muscles are sore.” You say, clearly in pain and your voice croaks slightly.

“Why would you train? Or not tell anyone?” Alexia asks. You shrug. “Alright, go home with Keira and get better ok? Next time you feel sick you don’t come to training understood?” You nod and Keira wraps her arm around your shoulder, Mapi holds your waist and they lift you up so you’re standing.

They take their time taking you to the car, running to the locker room to get Keira and your stuff and coming back.

“Gracias Mapi.” You whisper to the defender who pats your head and walks back to training.

“When we get back you can shower, I’ll make some food and give you cold medicine, I’m not going to ask if that’s alright with you because this is just the start of what you need to feel better.” You half smile and lean against the window looking at the bustling Barcelona.

- - - - -

When arriving home, Keira helps you out and gives you some of your old clothes you still had at the house. You take a warm shower which helps your pounding head, this takes your mind of everything for a couple minutes.

After the shower you slowly make your way to the couch and plop down, almost falling asleep.

“Nope, no sleeping. I’m giving you a throat sweet to hopefully ease that pain of yours and did you take any meds this morning?” She asks.

“Paracetamol.” You whine.

“Alright, Ibuprofen it is then. Come on take these, then you can sleep however long you need.” You do as she says, and start falling asleep almost immediately as the pain starts to fade.

She lifts you up and takes you to your bedroom from when you lived here and tucks you in. Saying something about lunch, but you’re too tired to understand.

- - - - -

You’re woken by someone whispering sweet nothings in your ears, you lazily open your eyes to find Lucy moving the hair out of your face and behind your ear.

“Good afternoon, Keira made soup. Are you feeling up to walking outside or would you like to stay here?” She asks, speaking in the softest and quietest voice she can muster.

“Outside.” You murmur, voice even hoarser than before, Lucy cringes at the sound.

“Alright, let’s get you up then.” You slowly follow her movements and she helps you walk to the couch, Keira is there along with Marta and Caro. There’s soup on the table and there’s only one person it could belong to.

Lucy places you down on the couch and you subconsciously lean into Keira’s comfort.

“Alright bug, I’m gonna get you to eat all this soup alright? I’ve also made some tea which should hopefully soothe your throat a little bit more.” You nod, too tired and too sore to do anything else.

Keira feeds you the soup and watches as you wince slightly every-time you swallow, she saddenes at the sight.

“You’re doing well, only a couple more bites love.” She whispers.

After you’ve eaten it all, your throat is still sore, your headache has gone away for the most part but the sore throat just never seems to leave.

“Nena, how bad does your throat still hurt?” Marta says, turning her focus toward you after whispering with Lucy.

“Worse than before.” Your voice rasps and it pains to speak, the girls understand perfectly well.

“Alright, we will look after you until you’re better. You should have another one of those throat soothers. That should hopefully ease your pain a little bit.” Caro says, moving to place her hand on your knee. You smile in agreement.

Over the next 2 days they look after you until full health. It’s nice and you endlessly thank them for their caring natures.

- - - - -

ok guys i need ur help, i got a request for aitana x ona and i’m not sure whether to post on tumblr or ao3 🤷 also if anyone can tell me how to write about 2 people my messages are open

anyways hope you enjoyed, my throat is killing me. stay safe friends 🕺 i have 2 more requests sooo plz request

[chubbyreaderchan]

Crying in the Sand | Poly! Lost Boys x plus sized!Reader

Summary: The Lost Boy’s mate has some old “friends” come to town. She wants to spend time with them without her boys but they end up destroying her self-esteem instead. The boys will not let them get away with it. 

Warnings: Sexual innuendos but no real sex scenes, cursing, blood, violence, fighting, body shaming, self-hatred, anxiety, shirtless men for some reason, nudity, strong language, bullying, adult bullying, reader is larger in clothes size than the boys but they don’t care, Marko being let loose. Everyone in the coven is dating everyone else. No Michael or Star or Laddie :(

David’s arm wrapped around her plush hip, pressing her into his side gently. The boys were acting rowdy as they walked the boardwalk, minus Dwayne who was loyally carrying her bags despite her protests. She had been holding off the entire night to tell them she wasn’t going to be hanging out with them the next night. They had a hard time allowing their mate to go anywhere without them, but she made them promise to allow her to have other friends. Which was hard to do as an adult who surrounds herself with scary biker boys with pretty hair. 

But old friends were good. They didn’t know her boys, they had no idea they existed since they were coming to California for vacation from her hometown. They were only passing through the next night and then they were off to try to get to Hollywood and Disneyland for the rest of their trip. She was sure she was a fleeting thought in their minds. They hadn’t contacted her since graduation and she mostly forgot about them until they got her phone number from her family.

“You alright?” Dwayne said. 

His voice was low, and had the depth of dark chocolate and the warmth of his leather jacket on a cold night like tonight. His knuckle brushed over her plush cheek, a forest fire against her cheek despite his deathly cold. David’s fingers dug into her side and the leader looked at Dwayne, mildly annoyed he noticed her thoughts before he did. 

“What’s wrong, princess?” 

She took a deep breath. Now or never. 

“My friends from high school called me last night. I guess they are flying into Santa Carla because the tickets were cheap,” she said. 

(Y/n) leaned into David a bit more, as if seeking physical support from him. He was the leader and protector, she thrived off of that. She liked feeling his protection and listening to his opinions. 

“They want to hang out. Go to some beach. Something less popular than--” 

She motions around them at the crowds and lights. 

“They only have a day to stretch their legs and they want to hit up the beach before they go to Disney,” 

“Are you wanting to introduce us?” David asked. 

(Y/n) bit the inside of her cheek, thoughtful. That was something she hadn’t decided on yet. There were a few snakes in her old friend group and she did not want to share her boys with them. They had snatched so many crushes from her in the past, or even helped boys prank her with false dates. 

“No,” she was firm. “They are from a small town. They wouldn’t get it… or us,” 

David gave her a look, it was cold and distant. A tinge of jalousy seemed to sully the air. Dwayne’s hand joined David’s on her body. His hand pressed against the blonde leader it was intimate and comforting for both (Y/n) and David. 

“She should be able to see her friends without us,” Dwayne said gently. 

They could aways watch from a distance. 

Leave it to Paul to ruin the comfortable gazes between the two boys. His lanky arms wrapped around their human mate in a near breath stealing grasp. He nipped at her neck and she giggled at the ticklish sensation. 

“What? Don’t want your high school buddies to be jealous?” Paul purred. 

Marko was in front of her in an instant, keeping a steady pace walking backwards to look at her features. Her soft stomach was his favorite and he often encouraged her to show it off, but it was hidden tonight. With a final leer he grinned his devilish smile that made (Y/n) melt and give into practically anything he wanted. 

“Maybe she doesn’t want them to know how kinky our lady is,” Marko smile never wavered. 

His fists pulled at the opening of his jacket, tongue lapping out at his lips. 

“Not that they’d ever find out, amore,” 

Never in her life had she had so many boys pinning and loving her like they did. She felt wanted and taken care of all at the same time with the four wild vampires. 

“If we aren’t going to see you much tomorrow then we should go back to the cave,” David mused. 

The vampire swiftly tugged the cigarette from behind his ear, pressing it between his lips before lighting it. The hot burn of cigarette smoke filled the air even with his efforts to puff the smoke away from the fragile human he was so annamoured with. 

“Why’s that?” she asked. 

“We need to scent you,”

“Scent me?” 

He hummed, his own devilish grin tugged at his lips. It wasn’t fair how handsome he was. It took everything in (Y/n)’s body to run her fingers through his course facial hair. 

“Can’t have any others trying to touch what is ours,” 

His face was close to her’s now. David’s scent of tobacco, mint, and metal washed over her face. He leans in close and almost purrs his next words. 

“And kitten, you can touch my beard all you want…. But I think it might feel better against your thighs,” 

Her face heated and her thighs rubbed together at the insinuation. The sharp ears of the others caught every word and like a pack of hyenas they howled with laughter. 

“I would punch you if you weren’t so pretty,” she said,

She crossed her arms over her chest like a child. David couldn’t help but laugh, knowing very well her threats meant nothing. His soft lips pressed against her’s in a chaste kiss. 

-- 

The day started with her friends arriving at her apartment. No, scratch that. One friend who was one of the snakes, and two girls who used to bully her relentlessly arrived on her front porch. She knew the snake friend was coming but apparently (Y/n) had assumed that she was still friends with the others she used to be around. 

“You look…” the snake, known as Allison grimced visibly. “Like you!” 

Ouch. That one hurt. She could feel herself folding in already and the day with them had hardly started. Ashley the blonde resident mean rich girl in the town hugged (Y/n) like she had a disease and only did so out of politeness. The third was a dark haired girl who always seemed to be a package deal with Ashley. Bridget… thought (Y/n) had often called her an “idiot” in her head. 

“Hi, uh…” she smiled fakely and followed Ashley into the apartment. 

“Once we get relaxed a smidge,” Ashley said. “We should go to lunch. Didn’t you mom say you work on a boardwalk?” 

“I thought you didn’t want to hit the boardwalk?” (Y/n) asked. 

“Oh, we don’t want to hit the boardwalk at night. Too crowded and… too dangerous,” she cringed. 

The plump girl wanted to roll her eyes, but she was right. The boardwalk plus peak summer season plus night and minus her boys could be a one way ticket to robbery… or worse. Though the “or worse” were her boys. She’d always be safe on the boardwalk. 

“Oh, sweetie, You aren’t going to wear that to lunch are you?” Allison asked. “It’s a bit tight don’t you think?” 

(Y/n) looked at the shirt that hugged her body quite tight, a faded Rolling Stones t-shirt. Yes it was a bit small, fitting a bit like a crop top and she did snip part of the neckline to fit a bit better but it was Paul’s shirt. He gave it to her. From his own clothes. 

“Here sugar,” the wild blonde grinned, tossing the t-shirt at her bare body. 

The boys were out feeding that night and Paul had practically destroyed her mind with incredible sex and just his overall vibe. They never liked her to be alone in the cave if they could help it. 

“Paul, how high are you?” 

“No, babe, it’s hi how are you,” he grinned jumping into her nest and kissing her jaw. 

“No, Paulie. Baby… I’m gonna stretch it out,” 

“And?”

“Don’t you like this shirt?” 

“It’s my favorite,” he grinned. 

His lips continued to kiss her neck. 

“I’ll ruin it. Stretch it,” 

“Well, call it payback, sugar,” He sucked on her neck. 

Her mind was getting fuzzy again. “For what?” 

“For you letting me stretch your pussy out,” 

The memory normally made her laugh but her fingers were now tangled at the hem of the shirt. Stress was filling her mind. 

“Yeah, I can change,” she said softly. “Just make yourselves at home,” 

It wasn’t long and she came out to the three girls giggling. It was like they never left high school. They looked up at her and Bridget laughs again. 

“Are you done?” (Y/n) asked. “Would you like to see the boardwalk or not?” 

“Of course, you look so cute. We’re gonna take my car. It’s bigger,” Ashley grinned. “A rental,” 

It took a lot to not gag at the fakeness in her voice. (Y/n) threw her bag over her shoulder, tracing the patch Marko had stitched into it as she walked to the car. 

“Bridgy,” Ashley smiled. “Let (Y/n) sit up front. She is hosting us after all,” 

Bridget climbs into the back and (Y/n) sits in the front telling her in detail the best ways to get the pier. She couldn’t remember the last time she was her in the day time, it was still lively but it was just a different feeling.

It felt more family friendly and not one wrong move from being either a rave or a brawl. No David holding her hip or Marko pinching her sides. No Paul wanting to sneak her off into one of the changing booths or even a Dwayne making sure she actually eats something that was sugar dipped in more sugar. It was a familiar loneliness she had hanging over her she had most of her teenage year as the three women linked arms and (Y/n) fell behind them. She was never lonely or felt as if she wasn’t wanted with her boys. 

Hell, if they didn’t want her around they would’ve eaten her by now… and not in the fun way. 

“Where should we eat?” Allison called over her shoulder. “What’s good?” 

“There’s a 24 hour diner near the Di--,” 

“What, no,” Ashley said. 

The preppy blonde was aghast at the mention of a diner. She rolled her eyes and reached into her beach bag. A pamphlet of the local attractions and restaurants she must’ve gotten at a rest stop at some point. 

“Oh, we should go to the seafood place,” Ashley grinned. 

(Y/n) cringed at the thought. The boys had told her many sketchy things about the owner and management. It was not a great choice but a water and a side salad would hold over until she could get a corn dog from her favorite booth. Maybe. 

The best part of the restaurant was definitely the air conditioning. It felt nice against her skin, she even tugged her well loved jacket from her shoulders. Another gift she had an argument over when David gave it to her. It was older, but with Marko’s sewing skills and patches from all of them it was transformed into hers, though the arms were a bit tight and it didn’t zip properly but it fit the best out of all the boy’s clothes and she adored it. Marko promised to make it fit better but she wasn’t sure she wanted it. It was like a constant hug from David, it even smelled like him. But even a punk can get sweaty in a jacket on the beach. 

---

“Why did you let us eat there?” Ashley whined as they walked down the boardwalk. 

“You wouldn’t listen if I told you,” (Y/n) replied. 

“Wait where are you going?” Bridget copied the whine of the other girl.

It made her want to jam a plastic fork into her ear. Somehow she managed to get in line at the good corndog place, as suggested by Marko. 

“I thought you were dieting. You know cuz the jacket was so tight and the salad,” Bridget accused. 

She shook her head and bit her lip. Her hand went into her pocket fidgeting with the coins inside. This was going to be a long day and it had barely started. She could’ve been in bed this whole time. Hell, she could’ve been in her nest the entire time, with her boys. Hell, she’d even hang out with Max at this point. At least he wasn’t an open asshole like these girls were. 

(Y/n) bit into the fried treat and sighed in contentment. 

---

“Are you sure this beach is private enough?” Allison called. 

Then she giggled and whispered. The sun was starting to set and the girls wanted to abandon the boardwalk quickly. (Y/n)’s mind ached from being around the three girls and she was practically counting down the hours until she could go back to her boys. By the time they were on the beach she knew of, the sun was down and it was quite dark. 

“Of course, I come here all the time,” she said. “Nothing for miles,” 

Other than a cave. 

“Oh good,” Allison giggled.

She tore off her top and began stripping in the dark. (Y/n) watched in shock. The darkness of the beach wasn’t enough to conciel the girls stripping down to their birthday suits. 

“Come on, (Y/n). We did this all the time back home. It’s why we wanted to come here at night,” she giggled. “Join us,” 

The grin on Allison’s lips would have mimicked Markos. This would have been a Marko or Paul idea but something felt off about this. The instinct to pull in and run as fast as she could was buzzing in her brain harder than the first time she saw a vampire feed. But just like then she pushed it away, the wild side that was primmed and built by the coven of vampires was screaming to just do it. 

A sharp swallow felt like it cut down her entire body. She pulled her jacket off then her top and the rest of her clothes. The girls were huddled and giggling, bile made it’s way up her throat. Bitter and painful as the rest ran into the water. Even at her age, peer pressure seemed to be winning her over as she went into the dark waters. Her heard was racing as the cold touched her hot skin. It cooled over the places where the sun had touched, she sighed again in contentment. The fear was washed away from her body with each crash of the wave. 

Her eyes fluttered shut and she enjoyed the sounds of the night. Quiet and still, with the occasional sound of wildlife that lived in the area. Quiet never happened with all the boys. Quiet could only be obtained with Dwayne or David. All four was shouting and calling and flirting and--. 

Giggles. 

(Y/n)’s eyes shot open. It was too dark to see anyone. She spun in a circle, hoping to see anyone. Anything. Gone. They left her. She swallowed hard, and fought back the tears of frustration and memories. This wasn’t the first time Allison played this prank. Leaving her in the middle of nowhere. But it was fine. She would just pull on her clothes and just go to the cave or the boardwalk and find her boys. 

She stepped onto the sand, careful not to step on a scuttering crab before heading to her clothes which---

They weren’t there. Her jacket. Her shirt. Even her swimsuit and bag were gone, hot tears filled her eyes arms wrapping around her bare body as she fell into the sand with a thud. Her breathing was hard and ragged. The bullying through the day seemed to have built up to this moment. It was as if time hadn’t moved since she was 16 and trying to blend in only to stand out more. She coughed out a sob. She hardly registered the rumbling of motors coming down the beach. 

---

“This is lame,” Marko said. 

He chewed at the glove on his left hand anxiously. The group of boys seemed dull. David was simply browsing the night’s produce, deciding which bodies could fill their bellies and the boredom without their mate to complete their family. 

No one peaked his curiosity. Hell, he wasn’t even that hungry, at least not that kind of hunger. David could practically still taste her on his tongue and her smell still lingered on the boardwalk. It was hours old but he knew her scent so well that it could’ve been just a few seconds ago. 

He was growing irritated. Like a caged jaguar. He wanted to rip into something, but had no one good enough. Nothing caught his interest other than a back and fourth look over the crowd. 

“Maybe (Y/n)’s friends left,” Paul said, hopeful. 

“If that’s the case she’d come to us,” Dwayne said, leaning back a bit on his bike. 

He stretched and grunted slight before leaning forward again on the handles. Dwayne didn’t need to stretch but it was an old human habit, like breathing. But he was disappointed when he remember that their little mate wasn’t their to ogle at his muscles beneath his skin. 

“Let’s go,” David flicked his cigarette carelessly. “No one looks worth it tonight,” 

They kicked off their bikes and onto the beach they drove. Taking the long sandy way home in the hopes of finding some form of entertainment. The pack were wooping and hollering but it didn’t feel as good as when it was filled with giggles. A piece of their coven was missing. David hated and loved how much she meant to the dynamic of their family. 

David inhales, sand brushed against his nostrils but that wasn’t the scent that bothered his nose. Tears. Fear. 

Her. 

Something was wrong, and David tried not to allow his true face out. He slowed his bike and the boys followed. Marko was next to him sniffing the air, he liked the smell of tears but not like this. They could see her curled in on her self crying. 

Naked. And crying. 

--

Leather enveloped her shoulders and she looked up to see Dwayne. He smiled at her sadly, kneeling to her level. 

He brushed a rough thumb under her eyes, wiping a tear off her cheek. 

“What the fuck happened, amore,” Marko was in front of her, hands gripping into fists. 

Pacing and cursing in Italian. David looked just as pissed and she didn’t see paul. Not until he threw the shirt he had on at her playfully. 

“Paul,” She whimpered. 

“Don’t even start, sugar. Just put it on,” 

His voice lacked any warmth. No happy go lucky Paul, but a serious man with anger in his voice. A black Led Zepplin shirt that smelled of him and weed. It stretched over her body, but it wasn’t enough to cover her bottom half. She moved Dwayne’s jacket to covers up but she was still very bare. But she did feel a bit better with her boys surrounding her. 

“What the hell happened,” David mimicked Marko’s question. 

His movements were so quiet she jumped when she turned to see him crouched infront of her, leather hands on her knees. 

“They convinced me to swim… without,” she sniffed. “Then took my clothes and left… I just want my jacket and bag back,” 

David pulled his large over coat off and placed it on her as well. 

“Don’t worry kitten, we’ll take care of it,” David said.

His gloved hand 

“I’ll take her back to the cave,” Dwayne said. 

He didn’t even hesitate. He lifted (Y/n) as if she weighed nothing, wrapping her tightly to keep her modest, not that anyone would see a thing or even look while in his arms. 

“I don’t,” 

“Don’t worry mama,” he soothed. “We’re flying. I’ll get my bike when you are in your nest,” 

--

Paul, Marko, and David were off. Following the scent of fake cucumber and soon to be dead bitches. Marko was the first to spot them, his eyes were especially sharp when he was pissed off and hungry. They didn’t care about safety or stopping, they tailgated them until the women finally pulled off. Clearly, they weren’t very smart. David’s bike barely stopped when he hopped off. Rage was fueling him, and his eyes were yellow. His hunger had suddenly returned. 

“What the hell--,” the blonde yelled. 

“Where the fuck is her stuff,” 

The woman in pink finally looked into David’s face. She stammered. Marko had already ripped the door of the passengerside causing the women to scream. Paul smashed the back window, seeing (Y/n)’s clothes and bag. 

The brunette screamed again as Marko tugged her from her seat. He held her so tight her arm snapped under the force and she screamed again. Marko’s long tongue flicked out before he took a rough bite. 

They would be another set of missing people. 

-- 

“Good thing you leave so much here,” Dwayne teased, running his hands over her thigh. It was a pair of sweat pants she had forgotten ages ago but she was grateful for them. She didn’t want to steal another item of their clothes. 

“Though I still think you’d be cuter in my boxers,” 

They were laying in her next again, right under where the boys would sleep. It was safest to them and they liked having her there, since she would be joining them on the ceiling someday. Dwayne leaned forward, kissing another stray tear. He had already left and retrieved his bike, and now he could be comfortable with her. His jacket was still over her shoulders and she was hugging David’s like a security blanket. 

Tears still crept from her eyes, but he could tell she was feeling better. 

His fingers traced over the waist band of her hips and he kissed another stray tear away. He kissed down her cheek all the way to her lips. Dwayne smiled when she returned the kiss, moving so she could touch his body. The cave rumbled and the other vampires came in wildly. The curtains moved and the first boy rushed in, bag on his shoulder and a grin on his face.

“Sorry, Dwayne. There wasn’t enough bitch for all of us,” Paul said patting his shoulder.

Happy Paul was back but his face and hands were coated in blood. He placed her things beside her bed and he leaned in to kiss her but Dwayne put a hand against his other lover’s chest. 

“Clean first, then kiss her.” 

“Yeah yeah, human blood disease,” Paul hissed. 

Marko rushed in next. Wild eyed and looking like he could go for another fight. But he was clean, or at least his skin was. His shirt was stained and ripped apart but his jacket was a beautiful as alway. 

 His eyes flickered around and landed on his girl. Puffy eyed, but smiling at him. 

“Feeling better, Venus?” He teased. 

She nodded. 

He shrugged his jacket off, then shoes, then his shirt before climbing in behind her. His arms snaked around her middle, squeezing at the doughy flesh of her belly just right. 

“Stop! That tickles,” She giggled trying to pull away from him. 

“Amore, how can I stop when you are just so irresistible,” 

Dwayne rolled his eyes at the antics. “Marko,” He was stern. 

Marko paused his tickling and rolled his eyes before just hugging his hurting mate from behind. He kissed her neck and nipped at the skin softly. 

“Don’t worry, my Venus,” he whispered. “Those girls wont ever hurt you again,” 

His breath is cool against her skin and she can’t help but to hum. She leaned against Marko and he allowed her enjoying her against his chest. 

The curtains pulled back again, David was now also shirtless his hair damp and gel-less. It was slightly messy without product and (Y/n) loved it very much. His lips curl into a smug smile. 

“I’m glad you like my jacket, kitten but I think I’d be a better replacement,” 

He crawled into the nest as well. He sat between Dwayne and (Y/n) taking the jacket from her hands before pulling her from Marko’s grip. She layed against his soft chest and he purred as her fingers danced over his soft belly before gently playing with his chest hair. Marko found himself back behind her, hugging for dear life. His fingers tapped against her middle. 

They all seemed to be buzzing with energy. 

“What the fuck? Why are you guys hogging the babe!” 

Paul launched himself into the pile of lovers wedging himself between the tangled legs of (Y/n) and David. Dwayne rolled his eyes before scooting into David’s other side, placing a hand on the exposed midriff of his princess. 

“I don’t think I want friends anymore,” she hummed. “You guys are like friends and boyfriends wrapped in one,” 

“You should still have friends,” Dwayne said gently. “I bet you’d like Gloria,” 

“No, I think i’m content,” 

“Whatever you want kitten,” David said. “That’s what you’ll get,” 

His fingers traced over any skin or into any hair that he could. They went down to her jaw and gently lifted her chin. He pressed a kiss against her lips. 

“I want to kiss her,” Paul huffed, pushing up against David’s stomach to climb to her face.

David grunted in annoyance but held his tongue from shouting at the vamponeside golden retriever. He just watched as he sloppily devoured her lips. 

She was never going to be alone like that again. He wouldn’t allow it. 

[cozzzynook]

Hiii cozzzyyyy

What do we think about Rodimus adopting a lil human in secret on the LL, but Drift discovers it and tells Ratchet? And all three o them just look blankly at the human (that doesn't understand what's going on ofc ofc)?

Thank uuu <3

Hi Bee,

Hear me out.

The human he brings aboard the lost light that doesn’t know whats going on is actually cyberronian and a baby.

The found them crying next to their offline creators and couldn’t just leave them there. He was going to tell police officials but when he picked the fresh bitty up and they stopped crying. Reaching out and gripping his chassis and digit whimpering for him, he just couldn’t bare to part with them.

Sooo he snuck them on board and let the ship take off.

Of course he told officials about the bitty’s creators and told Prowl in secret what he’d done and that he wasn’t giving the bitty up. Prowl can honestly say he’s never actually heard Rodimus sound threatening and he admired it before putting official documents in stating Rodimus was the sparklings caregiver now before sending them to him and hanging up.

Rodimus was entirely pleased with himself and more than happy to get started on bathing the dirty bitty that wasn’t old enough to have plating on their exposed protoform. He learned the bitty was a little mecha and so as he had them wrapped in a soft warmer against his chassis he had to figure out a name and get a bitty berth installed.

He wasn’t entirely out of his league here since he used to caretake for orphanages on Nyon. He knew what sparklings needed and their development. So he knew this was a fresh spark that wouldn’t be able to be away from him for a long time since the connection with his creators was severed so early in life.

Of course..in all his plannings he forgot to tell his crew and co captain…who just so happened to walk into his hab with Minimus and stare at the sparkling with open jaws and he immediately had to explain the situation.

“So you weren’t carrying this whole time and popped out a sparkling on a dangerous mission?”

“No I’m not an idiot!”

He looked extremely offended and felt it too which upset the sparkling almost pulling them from recharge if it weren’t for him calming them down.

“I got the paperwork and everything. I got attached…don’t look at me like that Mins! I’m not popping out a sparkling!”

The smug look on the mini turbo fox face plates and his co captains was pissing him off.

Just because he was a carrier mech did not mean he would go following his coding and pop out bitlets.

He was destined for greater things than being a broodmare! He said as much too.

“Rodimus its not meant like that. Carriers just-”

“I don’t wanna hear it,” he was genuinely upset but trying not to take it out on them since they didn’t do anything wrong. He was just sensitive about his coding and frame.

“I’d like some time off from being in public to get a better bond with them and get all the supplies I need. I’ll do all my paperwork here. I’ll keep my comm open as well.”

He ushered them out after letting Minimus hold his sparkling who began to fuss but didn’t cry.

“Lets get you some panel wraps and bottles annndd I’m gonna need to find you a crib…and a name.”

The bitty just kept sucking on their hand and he was off to find such things in the storage rooms while the dead shift was at its quietest time.

He managed to luck out on getting multiple blankets and an abundance of reusable panel wrappers. He’d brought those things back to his hab and set them on a gentle wash in his cleaning closet before heading back out to find a crib and clothes and some bottles.

He was yet again lucky in his search. Finding bottles, clothes and even a few pacifiers along with a stuffed fox that looked suspiciously like Minimus handy work made him smile. He’d have to thank his friend for leaving this here for him.

He was bummed he couldn’t find a crib but he had everything else he needed and he decided to enjoy the win. He’d gotten everything clean and settled when the bitty began to fuss and he knew immediately what time it was.

“I’m gonna fix a bottle. I know, I know. You’re hungry its okay,” he soothed to the upset sparkling.

He felt his chassis growing tight and he groaned looking down at the shifted plating to the still unfinished diluted energon meant for sparklings. He wasn’t about to make his sparkling wait an hour for fuel that wouldn’t be half as good as what his frame decided to make against his wishes.

So with a final groan and a hope for his luck to continue and his sparkling not getting attached to this form of feeding, he unclasped his chassis and let his breast mesh free. They were already filling with milk and he grimaced at how natural it all felt.

He didn’t like being a carrier but he wasn’t going to let that get in the way of feeding his sparkling.

With that line running through his mind, he held his sparkling up to his nozzle and allowed them to turn their helm crying until eventually they smelled him and the energon his frame was building before opening teary optics and latching on.

The first few suckles felt weird but eventually he felt the milk begin to release and his sparkling was greedily suckling blinking the tears from their optics.

Rodimus didn’t want to admit how close and connected he felt to the fresh bitty letting them drink from him.

He’d always had a problem with being a carrier and few mechs knew that he was and all that did knew by accident. It was something he liked pretending he wasn’t but that was extremely hard to do when a bitty was nursing from his mesh.

He sighed and looked to the bottles on the drying rack and figured he might as well try organizing his hab and bitty proofing it.

By the time he was done, the bitty was finished nursing and he was burping them. They’d fallen to recharge immediately and he smiled looking down at them. They were tiny, even for a new sparkling they were tiny. He was going to comm First aid to come to his hab in the morning so he could get them fully examined.

Carrier instincts would’ve alerted him if something was wrong with a sparkling even if they weren’t his own. But he wanted to be completely sure.

He laid the sparkling on his lap and began squeezing the rest of his milk into a bottle.

He’d have to find a crib and milk pump the next time he went to the storage rooms.

He stood and held the sparkling to his breast mesh that was still too tender to close his chassis over. He really hoped his bitty would take a bottle and not his nozzles and that his milk could be turned off when he called First aid.

He laid in his berth, nest fresh courtesy of Ratchet and Drift who were on took an extra, with a servo on the bitty thinking of possible names when he felt his optics almost slip closed until panic gripped him.

“Frag I didn’t tell them I adopted a bitty…”

Recharge was not exactly restful due to his nerves and waking a few hours later to the bitty whimpering wanting milk was something that stole his attention from Drift and Ratchets reactions.

He’d tried getting the bitty to take the sparkling fuel he’d put on earlier but the bitty hollered energon murder and he sighed lowering his helmet trying to suppress tears.

He’d lowered them to his nozzle and they immediately gripped on. He looked to the warm energon bottle and picked it up slipping it into the bitties mouth only for them to spit it out and spit up the milk.

It took over ten minutes to calm them down before deciding never to do that again and just accept he would have to feed from his nozzles.

The bitty gave a little glare at him with blue optics that looked so much like Drift and Ratchets when he did something to endanger himself he smiled a little making the bitty giggle.

It was spark warming and asserted that he made the right decision in keeping them.

“Your gonna be trouble aren’t ya lil mecha,” he cooed, cleaning himself and the bitty while allowing them to drink. He’d put the sparkling energon by the door and thought of how he was going to tell Drift and Ratchet.

He went through the motions of burping the bitty and soothing them to sleep before starting on paperwork. By the time he finished he leaned back in his chair and looked down at his breast mesh and the bitty sleeping on them.

He maneuvered the bitty and tried to put his breasts back into his chassis only to wince and hiss in pain.

‘That won’t work. Damnit. I’ll have to get a new chassis supporter.’

He looked down at the bitty and couldn’t find it in himself to blame them or really be upset. He was still pushing off the mental breakdown at succumbing to his carrier protocols. But looking down at the bitty he found it a tad easier.

Things didn’t feel so bad…until he heard the hab door open.

He stiffened in his seat and slowly turned his helm to see Drift and Ratchet staring at him and their hab.

He tried to smile but it came off wobbly and afraid and the sparkling made a whimpering noise that pulled his attention.

He shushed them gently with a small bounce and they nuzzled into him.

He looked back up to see the spot by the door empty with Drift and Ratchet right in front of Rodimus staring shocked at the fresh bitty in his arms recharging on swollen exposed breast mesh.

“Hehe. Surprise? Funny story here.”

“Roddy were you sparked and didn’t know it?! Did you emerge our sparkling on a mission?!”

Drift was seething with a myraid of emotions but not one was anger. He was thankfully whispering as he did so and was visibly checking him over before getting closer only to stop so Ratchet could begin scanning the sparkling and Rodimus.

“No I wasn’t sparked! And no I didn’t emerge a bitty! They don’t even look like us!”

He whispered venomously before pausing. They all stopped for a moment before Rodimus apologized.

“I’m not getting sparked. Ever,” he spoke, looking them in the optic before motioning for Ratchet to keep working.

The mech gave him a look he didn’t want to see so he turned his helm and let Ratchet work.

“The sparkling is fine,” he stood, looking at the fresh sparkling still sleeping on Rodimus who had an arm covering his nozzles.

He refused to move it because he didn’t want them seeing.

He knew they knew. They had since before they got together. He’d blown up almost saying some really nasty things when they revealed to him they knew by his scent, nest, clingy behavior he thought he shut down and the way he’d act around sparklings. Of course having this revealed made him all but destroy his carrying instincts and reject anything remotely like it.

It hurt. Physically and mentally to do so but he did it anyway and rejected any advice on not doing it. Of course he took it a step further and took preventative pills that kept him from going into heat and added an extra spark baffle. He really hated being a carrier and how it made him look to other mechs and femmes. He was not weak. He was not some birthing machine and he was not going to degrade himself by popping out sparklings and prove them all right. He was more than a carrier mech. He was a living being. He wouldn’t succumb to code.

Of course doing all this and having no heat put him in danger and made him sick but he truly would rather get sick than suffer another heat and possibly get sparked.

It took passing out after throwing up energon for his own medical right to be snatched away. He was taken off heat suppressants and his spark baffles were removed leaving him with just one.

He’d rode out his heat painfully by himself and left the medical center before they could try talking him into something he didn’t want. He ignored his teammates outside of battle planning for a long time. He ignored Ratchet and Drift, at the time Deadlock, for even longer since they just didn’t get it.

As much as he butted helms with Optimus the mech understood but still didn’t want him endangering his life. The only medic he really trusted was First Aid who admitted he didn’t understand but tried to give him the best option instead of getting snippy with him or pushing carrier scrap at him.

He’s pulled out of his thoughts when he feels Ratchet put a servo on his breast mesh and feel around it. He knows he isn’t being a perv but he still hates it. He’d never exposed his breast mesh to them before and hadn’t ever planned to.

“Well?”

He was getting more impatient and uncomfortable by the moment and Ratchet gave him a look that he returned with the beginnings of a snarl that he restrained.

“Milk won’t stop till the kid doesn’t need it anymore. You’ll need a new chassis plating. I’ll get to working on one-”

“I’ll have First aid make me one. Its fine. You both should rest. I’ll explain everything when you wake up.”

He was standing before either could get a word in. Was it fair? Not at all. But he really didn’t want this conversation nor the carrier slag they’d throw his way.

“Kid, get back here. This is a conversation we’re having now.”

He glared but didn’t go any further.

“I didn’t purposely attach the sparkling. It just..happened. I saw them crying near their creators when I went down to the lab. They were already gone and gray.”

“I wasn’t even thinking when I took them and decided to keep them. I’m sorry I didn’t ask first or tell you. You don’t have to care for them, I can do that on my own.”

He’d done it with sparklings at the centers and they’d recovered until they found a proper home during the war. So he knew he could.

“I’m not asking either of you to do anything and if they are a crying sparkling I’m going back to my hab.”

“Rodimus!”

Drift had yelled his name a little too loud to stop him from spiraling and putting distance between them. The mech was holding his arms on both sides and he wasn’t aware he’d been venting hard.

“Stop,” Drift vented hard, looking at him with his finials back and fangs poking out.

“You’re not going to your old hab. You’re staying here with us, where you belong,” Drift told him. “We’re not angry and we don’t blame you for getting attached. We just..”

“We’re surprised kid. Shocked really,” Ratchet came close and he felt crowded. The sparkling was picking up on his emotions and while that made him happy because it meant a bond was in place, he didn’t want them exposed to painful emotions or his cluster of feelings so he vented and bounced them. Keeping his gaze on the sparkling, trying not to notice how their gazes stuck to him and the longing in their optics, he started speaking again.

“I have the papers that say he’s mine already..Megs and Minimus know already because they came by unannounced.”

“Only yours?”

Ratchet was the one to ask and he felt bad that he didn’t think they’d want their names on the papers as well.

“I didn’t think you’d want your names on it. I didn’t think about anything other than your reactions honestly and I wasn’t fair in those thoughts either. I’m sorry.”

He owed it to them to at least get their frustrations out so he looked them in the optics expecting glares only to feel sadness and that was so much worst.

“Roddy…we aren’t..give us the papers.”

He went over to his desk and situated the sparkling while covering his nozzles and pulled the papers out handing them over.

They both signed it.

And he was both relieved and guilt ridden.

Both wanted a sparkling and were even partners with a mech who could carry by tank and yet…

“Why isn’t his name on here?”

“I couldn’t think of one…so I guess..as his sires, you can name him. If you want.”

They looked at him as if he’d revealed the secrets of Cybertron and he might as well have. Naming was a huge deal in their culture and for a carrier to completely allow the sires full handle of it meant a lot.

He looked down at the sparkling and stood beside them, “here, hold him.”

It was Ratchet who gently took the sparkling which made the bitty wake up looking confused. Their optics nor senses were actually developed but they could tell the difference between stranger, carrier and sire. They could smell that he was near but couldn’t feel him. And yet the sparkling didn’t cry which was a good sign. They did sneeze and Ratchet melted at the sight with Drift not far behind and he hadn’t even held the bitty yet.

It made Rodimus smile but the guilt ate away at him.

Truth be told, he really did want sparklings, but he hated the stereotypes, prejudice and weakness being a carrier brought on. He never wanted to be weak or seen as weak and he hated how he would be viewed if he were to get sparked. So he denied and rejected it and in the process, he denied himself and his partners something they all wanted. Its one of the reasons he wasn’t conjunxed with them while the two were. It was usually a guarantee a carrier would get sparked once they conjunxed. His fears greatly outweighed the speak of what if he still felt.

He was also certain they would one day tire of him and leave when they realized they could do better.

��I sprung a bitty on them that isn’t even ours by emergence and they still want me,’ he let a few tears fall silently. ‘I’ve been unfair to them…’

He watched as Ratchet gave the bitty to Drift and how the mech melted completely with tears in his optics. Their bitty still didn’t cry which was also a very good sign he felt a connection to the two. He quietly bent down and grabbed a blanket to cover his exposed nozzles. He should let Ratchet make him a new chassis cover.

The feelings were overwhelming and he felt less of a warrior and solider and more the code he tried to reject for millions of years.

He..hated the vulnerability still and tried to quietly shift into the other room for a moment to gather himself but the two held him on both sides of his arms.

“What? Is he hungry?”

He didn’t want to make optic contact and tried to play off his sniffle until Ratchet pulled him in. He tried to move back but neither mechs allowed it.

“Kid..for once..don’t fight it..it doesn’t make you any less and it’s not a bad thing. Just for now..let it out..don’t reject it. Don’t reject us.”

The dam burst and he was sobbing with his intake covered by his servos to keep from being too loud. He kept his face plates hidden and felt Drift hug his back with their sparkling secure in his hold. Their arms tightened around him. He felt all the things he never allowed himself.

Safe. Vulnerable. Secure. Open. Tender. Exposed and held together as he mended himself whole with their comfort.

It felt as good as it hurt and by the end of his tears he felt raw and their nest had never felt so good to slip inside. He felt Drift and Ratchet pressed on both sides of him after giving him their sparkling when he whined for him.

Their sparkling nuzzled into him and made cooing noises, trying to fight their sleep but Drift wouldn’t let them. His humming was infectious and it was hard for him to stay awake but the plating that remained on his upper frame left him so uncomfortable. He knew what that meant but he wasn’t sure he could handle accepting it.

“It’s okay, Roddy,” Drift whispered in his audial, slowly taking the locks off his tank and back strut plating with Rstchets help. He felt pure relief at the metal being removed allowing his belly and wide hips room to breathe.

Accepting the sparkling as his own, his frame producing milk and allowing his emotions freedom in the presence of his partners triggered his body to go into a pseudo heat that was brought on from denying his code all these years.

“Let us take care of you,” Ratchet kissed along his neck cables, servos rubbing the chub along his belly, sending butterflies bursting within him at the love and comfort freely given.

Drift rubbed his palms along his hips and bit into his neck, hands making their way up to his sensitive breasts where he tensed and Ratchet cooed at him, reassuring him as he too cupped Rodimus breast. Both slipping the blanket free and wrapping the sparkling inside it.

The bitty inhaled the pheromones in the air and began to fall into recharge. What smelled of heat to adult mechs smelled of sleep pheromones to sparklings.

They placed the bitty on the edge of the nest yet still within close servo and optic contact.

Laid out bare for them to see, Rodimus tried to cover his nozzles but the two stopped him. Both Drift and Ratchet pressed a kiss to his nozzles before licking the dark milk duct and kissing the tender mesh again.

They enjoyed the way they bounced heavily and how his belly followed suit.

“You make an amazing person and carrier, sweet spark,” it was Ratchet who always spoke sweet words while taking them apart in berth. The medic popped his panels open and let his spike free, Drift followed pressing kisses to Rodimus’s belly, servo rubbing the chub as he worshipped it with kisses making Rodimus array snap open and lock.

Drift placed a kiss on his soaking valve before moving to let Ratchet do the same.

“You’ll look even more beautiful growing, swelling full with our sparkling. You already look so beautiful caring for our first one,” Drift soothed into his audial. They both were lining up to meet at the entrance of his valve, both their spike heads bobbing together before slowly slipping inside.

They all groaned together in unison until Drift and Ratchet nipped at his nozzles pulling them. Their servos resting interlocked over his belly as they rubbed the soft flesh stimulating his nerves. Bobbing their throats to a wave beat as they drank from him while fully sheathing their spikes deep inside him.

They left him a silent screaming, back arched mess that could do nothing more than cry and whisper his begging for their soft loving touches that left him exposed emotionally and a soaking, valve squelching mess that tried to cycle and lock down on their raw spikes that were struggling to keep from bursting inside him.

He felt their grip on his belly tighten and they rubbed his flesh as if he were already accepting their loads for a new spark when he felt their chassis open and his spark thrum to life.

Three different hues of blue made the dark room glow. Spike and valve bio lights pulsed and grew vibrant while Drift and Ratchet lifted themselves to hover and look down at Rodimus who looked up at them.

“We aren’t letting you go, Roddy. Not now, not if we never got to conjunx and spark you,” he leaned down, kissing the sobbing mech who gazed up at him before Ratchet leaned down capturing plump lips that quivered at his bite. “But now that we have, no more running and hiding from us. We love you Rodimus and we know you love us too.”

Rodimus sobbed even harder.

Feeling their sparks glow and leave their chambers to meet between them and merge making them all conjunx and completing the connection.

They overloaded together, squeezing each other, Rodimus’s valve clamping down on their spikes that buried within his soft tank lining spilling into him. Their sparks dancing getting lost in each other until none could be distinguished and they all held a large piece of each other once their sparks returned to them.

Rodimus was enternally grateful to have Drift and Ratchets servos in his belly as he felt the flesh stretch and grow heavy at all the transfluid that sloshed and flowed inside him. He felt his valve and cheeks grow hot all over again and he moaned, rocking into them.

“Please,” he cried, feeling them rub his distended belly full of transfluid, valve throbbing hot as his tank wanted more. “Please,” he begged again, seeing the two smirk.

“We’ll give you everything you want and need, sweet spark,” his medic promised.

“We just hope you don’t mind carrying two or three by the time we’re done with you.”

“Although, it’d be nice to see you so round and full of three while feeding our first,” Ratchet chuckled.

“Maybe we aim for three next time?” Drift kissed along Rodimus’s face, nuzzling into his olfactory sensor when the mech needed the reassurance and care.

“We can discuss that later. For now,” Ratchet pulled Rodimus close, washing his em field over the mech who needed their affection they were more than happy to give, “lets focus on mending him. He needs our love first, we can think on that later.”

With a nod from Drift and a quick check on their sleeping sparkling, they made love to their conjunx.

-

My mind…went elsewhere..anyway if anyone wants to tip me the link to my kofi is on my pinned post.

[adhd-mess]

Okay, so I’ve seen people coming up with scenarios abt if Solas and Varric were stuck in the Fade together and now I’m imagining if Alistair and Solas were locked in the Fade together.

I wrote at 2 am so if it’s out of character that’s why

Alistair: “Sooo you’re an elven god?”

Solas: *sighs* “Yes.”

Alistair: “Huh.” Contemplative silence. “Can’t you just use your godly powers to zap us back out—uhm respectfully, your….godliness?”

Solas: “Unfortunately I cannot.”

Alistair: “Oh.”

A pause.

Solas: “Do not refer to me as that.”

Alistair. “As what…oh. Well then what shall I refer to you as?”

Solas: “Solas. Just Solas.”

Alistair: “Feels wrong to refer to….I’ll shut up.”

More silence.

Alistair: “So, if I may ask?”

Solas: “Why ask when you’re going to ask it anyway.”

Alistair: *a nervous laugh* “Which god are you? Of the elven pantheon I mean. I know you’re not Mythal.”

Solas: “Fen’harel.”

Alistair. “Ohh. The-the dreadwolf? Right. Riiiight.” Muttering, “of course I’m locked away with the dreadwolf.”

Solas: “You seem well versed in the elven gods for a human.”

Alistair: “Well, if we’re sharing histories, my mother was an elf and I had the fortunate experience of meeting a few elves.” A pause. “Though I don’t know if I’d say I had the fortune of meeting one of them. Take my advice, an assassination attempt is a bad first impression.”

Solas: *a dry chuckle*

If Alistair and Solas are both romanced by the player:

Alistair: “If I don’t die here I’m so going to be dead when I—we get out.” A soft melancholic smile. “I can hear their chiding through the Fade.”

Solas: “You are speaking of your so called Hero of Ferelden, I presume?”

Alistair: “Yes.”

Solas: “I was not aware Wardens had kin; does it not go against your oath?”

Alistair: “Foolish, we were. So incredibly foolish.”

Solas: “I would not doubt it. I’d say say your still foolish; it’s the nature of your kind.”

Alistair: “Yeah yeah. Yknow you sound so much like an old…friend of mine.

Alistair bitterly: “I guess I answered her question.”

Alistair: *scoffs*

Alistair: “Why did I allow myself to get close to them and them to me? Young and childish thinking we could be the exception. I knew how it’d end. How it ends for every Grey Warden. And now their alone. Because of me.”

Alistair: “Uhhh sorry, didn’t mean to diatribe.”

More contemplative silence.

Solas: “Your foolishness is admirable.”

Alistair sarcastically: “Thanks.”

Solas: “You allow yourselves these things that will inevitably be torn away from you convincing yourself that you’re the exception. Why?”

Alistair: “Why? The future is not now. You cannot always fear the future. Because the right now is what counts.….right, of course.”

Alistair: “I was wrong earlier. We knew we the risks, that our time was limited, and despite that we chose each other. In spite of death or duty—everything. Until then it’d be us.”

Solas, absently: “But they didn’t know….”

Alistair: “Know what?”

Alistair, waggling his eyebrows: *gasps* “Wait, hold on, do you have someone?”

Solas scoffs, averting his eyes:

Alistair: “Oh my Maaabari—Mabari! You do? Who is it?”

Alistair: “Wait wait. Hold on, lemme guess.”

Solas: *a deep sigh*

Alistair: “Hmm, it’s the Inquisitor, isn’t it? Don’t even know why I asked to guess, it’s waaay to obvious with how you look at each other.”

Solas: “Are you ever quiet?”

Alistair: “Sooo what happened?”

Solas: “If I tell you will you finally be quiet?”

Alistair: “Maybe.”

*a lengthy explanation later*

Alistair: “Wait. That would make them the Herald of Solas…or no, the Herald of Fen’harel, wouldn’t it? It’s got a nice ring to it.”

Solas: *his face is turning red from embarrassment or anger or both*

Alistair: “You’re blushing!”

—

[the-broken-pen]

“We absolutely should not be doing this,” the hero whispered, but there wasn’t any heat to it. The other end of the line rustled as the villain laughed.

“There are a lot of things we shouldn’t be doing. Namely, I shouldn’t commit felonies, you shouldn’t talk to a felon…” their friend trailed off.

This time, the hero was the one who laughed. Outside, a bird began to chirp with the sunrise, and the villain sighed.

“Time distance.”

“Time distance,” the hero agreed, and by god if the miles weren’t a wound in itself.

“You should sleep,” the villain murmured. The hero hummed.

“Probably, yeah.”

Neither of them hung up.

“If I promise to call tomorrow, will you go to bed, please? For me?”

The hero sniffed, eyes heavy as the sun peeked through their blinds.

“Promise?”

“Pinkie.”

The hero slumped backwards. “I won’t hang up though.”

The villain laughed, softly, with an affection the hero didn’t want to think about.

“I’ll do the heavy lifting, once again,” but the hero knew they smiled as they said. The line clicked off.

—————————

“Hey, Sunshine. Committing nefarious acts of kindness and good deeds, I take it?”

“Hey,” the hero was breathless, hand pressed against their side. It came back bloody.

Any humor dropped from the villain’s voice in an instant.

“You’re hurt.”

The hero managed a pathetic laugh, flinching.

“Just a little.”

“It doesn’t sound like a little.”

The hero eyed their wound, swallowing.

“Absolutely just a little.”

“It’s a good thing you’re the kid of a hero, because love, you absolutely suck at lying.”

The hero tried to pretend something didn’t warm in their stomach at the endearment.

“I have…bandages. And antiseptic. And some good old natural dirt to rub into it if all else fails.”

The villain sighed on the other end of the line, and the hero knew they were rubbing their brow. For some reason, despite the pain, it made the hero grin.

“I’m fine,” they promised, and when the villain stayed silent, they said it again. “I’m fine.”

“If you die I’ll be mad at you.”

“Fairly certain that is the wrong sentiment for a villain to have towards a hero—“

“Has the bleeding stopped?”

The hero slapped some tape around the edge of the gauze, blood still dried around the edges.

“Yes.”

The relief was palpable.

“Good. Go to bed.”

“You’ll call again?”

“Promise.”

The hero smiled.

“Pinkie.”

The villain hung up.

—————————

“You wouldn’t happen to have a flamethrower I could borrow, do you?”

The hero blinked, holding the phone away from their face for a moment.

“I’m sorry?”

“Oh, don’t be, I just need one,” the villain snorted, and a loud crash sounded in the background.

“What on earth are you doing?” Concern rolled in the hero’s gut. The villain laughed.

“You’re going to want plausible deniability sunshine.”

“Right,” they paused. “But why a flamethrower?”

“It has flames, it throws them, what else could I ask for in an object?”

“I can throw flames.” Even though the villain couldn’t see it, the hero let a spark flicker on their finger tips.

“And again,” the villain’s voice lowered. “What more could I ask for?”

The hero didn’t have a response to that, but the villain somehow, like they always did, knew that.

“Any bruises I should know about?”

“And what would you do about them? You live on the other side of the country,” the hero teased.

“I can steal a fighter jet in less than half an hour.”

The hero blinked at the seriousness in the villain’s tone. They laughed, nervously.

“Please don’t do that.”

The villain sighed. “You ruin my fun.”

“I haven’t arrested you, so I think that should get me brownie points.”

“You live on the other side of the country,” the villain parroted.

“I could get there faster than a fighter jet,” the hero said. The villain snorted again.

“Will you—“

“Call again? Pinkie.”

The hero smiled. “Promise.”

The villain hung up.

—————————

The hero picked up the phone on the third ring, smiling.

“Hey trouble maker, what’s—”

All they got in response was a pained wheeze.

“Villain,” the hero said, gut plummeting. “Are you okay?”

“Fine,” the villain bit out, breath short. “I’m okay.”

“You don’t sound okay.”

The villain gave something that was either a laugh or a sob.

“Mhm.”

“What’s going on,” their voice broke, and the villain fell silent.

“It’s going to be okay,” they murmured. And the hero knew.

Innately, in a painful, wretched way, they knew.

“My dad is there.”

Their dad, the superhero. Their dad, who had forbidden them from ever speaking.

Their dad, who wanted the villain, their villain, dead.

The villain made a quiet noise of ascent.

“I’m coming—”

“You won’t make it.”

The hero stilled.

“How bad is it?” Their hands were shaking. They couldn’t find their suit, why couldn’t they find their suit—

“Too fast for a fighter jet,” the villain tried, voice too light and wet with tears.

The hero slammed a drawer closer, throwing open the door to the basement, searching for something, anything.

“I can be faster,” they grit out, breathless. Their chest hurt.

“Not that fast.”

“Please,” the hero sobbed, and on the other end of the line, the villain did too.

“Don’t do this to me.”

“I don’t want to,” the villain swore. They coughed, and it was a deathly thing.

Something slammed in the background on the end of the line, and the hero’s fingers clenched around the phone.

“What was that?”

The villain let out a pained whine, phone crackling as they shifted away, before their voice came over the speaker again.

“I’ll call again tomorrow.”

The hero’s face was wet.

“Promise?”

The villain let out a small sob, but they still sounded like they were smiling, soft with affection.

“Pinkie.”

The hero didn’t mean to say what came next.

“I love you.”

The villain didn’t even pause, breath hitching. “I love you too.”

The line crackled.

“Sunshine, I need you to do something for me now,” the villain rasped, voice choked with pain and tears and love and fear. “I need you to hang up.”

The hero forgot how to breathe.

“No—”

“Please,” the villain took a sharp breath through their nose, and it sounded painful. “Just this once. I can’t do it this time.”

“Villain,” the hero began, but the villain cut them off as something crashed in the background once more.

It sounded like a building falling.

It sounded like the hero breaking, too.

“Sunshine,” the villain pleaded. “Just once. I’ll-I’ll call you back. I swear.”

They could both taste the lie.

The hero sniffed.

The villain sobbed.

And for the first time, the hero hung up.

The villain never called them back.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

girls just wanna have fun 5

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as age gap, manipulation, blackmail, noncon/dubcon, coercion, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: your struggle to push back against your controlling father result in a misguided crush. (Silverfox AU)

Characters: Bucky Barnes, Sam Wilson

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself.

Shelby leaves and you deflate. You’re bored. You’re going to be bored forever. Your dad bitches at you until you do the dishes and vacuum but that only makes you more restless. 

As you decide to read on the porch, more a cover for your peeping behaviour, your dad appears with his golf bag and clears his throat. You sit up on the bench and take your feet off the little table. He hates when you do that. 

“Going to play a few rounds. Try not to make a mess.” 

“Yes, sir,” you say dryly. 

“I mean it,” he sniffs. 

“Alright. Jeez. Not like I'm doing much to make a mess.” 

“Oh yeah? Definitely not,” he mutters. “I didn’t find an empty bottle in the recycling...” 

“What?” You bat your lashes innocently. “I swear, it’s not mine.” 

“Sure, whatever. One won’t kill you but I don’t want it in my house,” he points at you. 

“Fine,” you huff. 

He leaves without much fanfare. No see yas, no I love yous, he’s never been that kind of dad. Only the type to point out everything you’ve done wrong.  

You wait for him to drive away as you plot behind your book. You can’t use your own friend to get your way. That made you feel too rotten. The answer is obvious but not one you relish. There is someone you can use but you don’t know if it’s worth it. 

As you mull over the failure of last night and hide behind the book, the low whir of an engine approaches. A car door brings your gaze above the pages and the very man on your mind appears. For once, it isn’t Bucky. 

Hm. Your mouth slants as you weigh the choice. Sam gets out of the car and bends to check his reflection in the side mirror, taking off his sunglasses as he winks at himself. God, he’s so annoying but he said he could help. Everything you’re doing is exactly wrong. 

You close the book and drop it on the table. You skip down the steps in your crop top and cut-offs and come around the white picket. He stops as he sees you and smirks at your advance. You stop before him, your chest bouncing shamelessly. 

“Well, hello ladies,” he makes no effort to hide his leering. You scoff. 

“Sam,” you say pointedly and fold your arms over your chest. “How?” 

“How what?” He tilts his head as he eyes you, bring up the arm of his glasses to chew on the tip. 

“How can you help me get to Bucky?” You ask. 

“Ha,” he laughs, “you’re really serious about that? You ran away last night.” 

“That was for my friend. She was scared.” 

“I don’t know, you looked pretty freaked out yourself.” 

“I’m not afraid,” you insist. “Maybe you are. Maybe you lied. Talk a big game. I shoulda known. You’re just like all the boys I know--” 

“Now hold up, I’m no boy. This right here, that’s grade A man. American meat,” he declares, “you want Buck, I get it. He’s got the whole angry old man thing the girls drool for. But I want something first.” 

“You’ll get it but how exactly can you help me get what I want?” You barter. 

His cheek dimples and he sucks his teeth, “well, I know my guy. Trust. And I know what he wants.” 

“Which is?” You narrow your eyes. 

“Now, now, I can’t just give away the good right away.” 

“Tell me, please,” you plead as you clutch your hands together.  

He huffs and looks towards the house, “are you sure you wanna go down this road?” 

His doubt stokes your own. Why wouldn’t you? It’s harmless. Just sex, right? It’s what adults do! You’re twenty years old and you don’t want to go back to campus a virgin. 

“Please,” you whimper. 

He chuckles again, “you’re exactly his type. He’s playing hard to get.” 

“Hm?” You perk up, “really?” 

“Yeah, I hate to admit it but he’s into you.” 

“He is?” 

“Calm down, sweetheart, we have a deal. You wanna get to him, you go through me. Which ironically, is what he’s into.” 

“Uh, what?” Your voice crackles. 

“Yeah, he loves to watch.” 

You laugh nervously, “you’re messing with me. I knew it.” 

“I’m not,” he’s more serious than you’ve ever seen him. “One day, when you’re older, more experienced, you’ll realise the freakiest freaks walk around like they have a stick up their ass. Hell, sometimes they do.” 

“So, what does that mean? What do I do?” You lower your voice, shaky as you realise what you’re asking. 

“Well, pretty kitty,” he boops your nose, “you look real good in those shorts, but you got anything sexier?” 

“Um, sure, I have some thongs.” 

“Good start, Lace?” 

“Probably,” you shrug.  

“Right, why don’t you show me? You need an expert.” 

“Really?” 

“You asked for my help. I’m helping.” 

“Ugh, you better not be fucking with me.” 

“Not right but hopefully soon,” he snickers. 

“Whatever, come on.” 

You turn and stomp back up the sidewalk. He follows casually and you peer around. You hope no one sees and tattles to your dad. Maybe you can make something up about a clogged pipe. Doesn’t matter right now. You doubt he even cares. 

Sam pulls the door shut behind him as you reach the stairs. You make a swift ascent and he comes up a few steps back. You enter your room and rush over to the dresser. You sift through and pull out your sexiest pairs. You can hear him tinkering around with your shit. 

“What are you doing?" You snap over your shoulder. 

“Just looking,” he comes up next to you and reaches into the drawer. He pulls out the vibe and rolls it between his fingers, “Mmm, this will be handy too.” 

“So?” You ignore him and spread out several pairs across the wood. “Which ones?” 

“Now, baby, I can’t decide if you don’t try ‘em on. I need the whole effect.” 

You huff. He keeps delaying. And it feels like he’s playing with you. 

“Promise you’re not lying.” 

“I swear,” he shows his palms and backs up. “I’ll close my eyes. The black lace.” 

He sits on the foot of the bed and slaps his hands down on his thighs. His pants are taught across his bulge. Oh god. He closes his eyes and you turn back. You pull of your shorts and switch out your panties for the black lace thong. 

“There? How is it?” You stand before him. 

He opens his eyes and grins, “turn around?” 

You cringe but obey. He lets out a long breath and tuts, “damn, that is a fine ass.” 

“Sounds like a yes,” you face him again, “so, it’ll work?” 

“Oh, you think it’s just the thong? No, baby, no,” he scoffs, “this is how it’s going to go down. I’m gonna tell Bucky I found a real fun girl. It’s been a while, he needs it, and you’re going to be waiting, in just that,” he reaches forward to touch the lace, “and you’re going to let me fuck your mouth, you can fuck mine too. That’ll get him nice and worked up.” 

“What?” You bluster, “you’re fucking with me. Oh my god. I can’t believe--” 

“I’m really not. We share all time. Or used to. Been a while, not gonna lie. Like I said, he is in need.” 

You step back and stare at him. You were prepared for Bucky. Prepared for just one guy at a time, but both. You’re not so sure. You put your hand to your neck and turn as you think. 

“I don’t know... maybe it’s stu--” 

You hear the digital shutter of a lens and face Sam as he holds his phone up. 

“What the fuck? Did you take a picture?” 

“Collateral,” he shrugs as he stands, “can’t have you flaking.” 

“Delete it.” 

“No.” 

“Delete--” you try to snatch his phone and he holds you at arm’s length. 

“Your dad would hate to see this, wouldn’t he?” He taunts. “You want help, you got it. You bring your fine ass and I’ll bring Bucky.” 

[stararch4ngelqueen]

Sooo idk if u take requests and this is super angst but it’s been in my mind. Kinda like ghosts and mirages can u write a fic where jay finds readers (his gf) notebook and sees that she’s suicidal? And how he stops her? If this is too much angst I get it. Mwah !

TW: Suicide/self harm/mentions of attempts. STRONG topics, this was difficult to write but if it brings comfort to someone in need, I hope so. Please be advised.

- -

Before Jason was killed, he had natural ideas of death, as did everyone else.

What did heaven look like? Was it a fluffy clouded paradise? Would people find eternal happiness sitting by crystallize rivers glimmering in the sun, feasting on ripe fruits like Adam and Eve had done before them?

Everyone’s ideals were different, Jason’s had always changed. However, he liked the idea of this heaven, enjoying the possibilities of seeing his old pets running to him once the time came.

Just like the torch passed from one Robin to the next, things unexpectedly change.

When Jason died, there was nothing.

No heaven, no hell, no happiness. Maybe God held his soul on standby because he knew he’d return to the living. He wasn’t happy about it for the longest time.

Luckily, a piece of heaven blessed itself in a person such as yourself. Your smile as bright as sunshine, your heart as sweet and pure as gold. He’s never met anyone so happy, so free spirited and optimistic.

He didn’t mean to read it. He really didn’t.

He watched you write in journals all the time, ripping out pages when it came to grocery lists or phone numbers to shove in your backpack before leaving the door. He was only looking for a shopping list you texted him to take a photo of, only to come across the tragedies you’ve dealt with and still carry.

His heart absolutely shattered when he reads the vivid darkness of your sorrows embodied within the pages of your private journal. A painful burn forming deep in his chest, right in his own heart.

What worried him the most was your latest entry, dated on a Monday in fresh ink. Monday. Yesterday.

When you came home in question as to why Jason never sent you that list, you didn’t expect him to be sitting in the living room. His head hung low, his hands clenched together in desperation.

He didn’t bother to say anything. He didn’t need to.

Your journal, your cursed, dark brown journal was sitting on the coffee table in front of him.

Your silence screams out to him, his head turning to acknowledge your presence. He stands slowly, watching you carelessly drop your backpack onto the floor, looking absolutely horrified at what’s to come.

“Jason,” you say, staying right where you were at the door. “Stop. Stop that.”

“Stop what?” He asks, staring at you with somber eyes.

“Stop that,” you instantly reply, feeling your heart beat much faster. “Stop looking at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like that!” You exclaim, your breathing growing more frantic. “Like I’m ... like there’s something wrong with me! Cut it out! Stop it!”

“I’m not—!” Jason’s voice accidentally raised, forcing himself to hold his tongue, his hands balled tightly by his sides.

“There’s nothing wrong with you baby,” He begins to say, only met with your shaking head.

“No, y’know what? Don’t bother,” you reply, quickly reaching for your keys.

You weren’t going to take that kind of conversation from anyone else ever again. The same, horrid words you’ve heard from your parents, your siblings, your friends.

You’re sick. How could you do this? What’s wrong with you? You need to be locked up somewhere.

Bold, accusatory statements that hurt worse than any knife ever could.

“You read it. It wouldn’t be sitting there if you hadn’t! I’m not gonna stand here and listen to you tell me that I’m—“

“Just stop!” He rips the keys from your hands, taking you by surprise at how fast he reached you. He nearly traps you against the door, hands grasping firmly along your shoulders.

“There’s nothing, baby!” He states right to your face, making your eyes grow wide. “There’s nothing wrong with you, okay? Nothing. I won’t let you think there is, get that shit out of your head right now!”

“B-but,” you start to babble, thick tears heading in the borders of your eyes. “I- I just -“

“You’re not crazy,” he interrupts, cradling your face in his heavy, trembling hands. “You’re not sick. Theirs nothing wrong with you, y’hear me? Nothing! Not a damn thing!”

Jason exhales a pained laugh, his own eyes spewing with tears. “Take it from me, babygirl. I’ve already died once, I’ll die again if you think like this.”

Speechless stole your ability to think, your ability to breathe. Your throat constricts around an invisible ball of molten steel, making you choke on your tears.

“I know you don’t wanna go, Princess,” Jason’s voice grows softer, both his thumbs making work in wiping your tears. “I know you don’t. You’re just tired, baby. That’s all.”

Slowly, you find yourself nodding, watching him nod with you.

“I’m tired,” you admit, gasping heavily in your newly weakened vulnerability. “I’m so tired, Jason.”

He holds you close to his body, clutching you as if saving you from a devastating fall. He knows this pain all too well, and you’ve saved him from it.

“I know,” he exhales, keeping you from withering away in the safety of his arms. “I gotcha now, okay baby? M’not going anywhere, jus’ let it out. I’m a big guy, I can take it.”

His biggest regret was letting those entries fill up three quarters of the journal. How many more did you fill up before then? How much pain do you carry in your heart that you need to hide via forcefully brighter smiles?

He wasn’t going to let this go on much longer. He needed you to know that someone in this harsh world understood the exhaustion, and that it was okay.

He didn’t know if Heaven or Hell truly existed, or if it was all just some huge hole of dark nothingness. He didn’t want you finding out either, feeling he’d be torn at the idea of bringing you to a Lazarus pit, but relenting on the possible side effects you’d suffer for it.

You deserved nothing of what Jason experienced, the man himself now feeling hellbent to protect you from it.

There wasn’t going to be any attempt, because Jason would do everything in his damn power to make sure that never, ever fucking happens.

Medications were locked, except the essentials, which even he supervised. He’d order from your favorite restaurants for a short while, preventing any use of kitchen cutlery.

He’d dote, making sure you kept your hygiene maintained. He’d enjoy sitting beside you outside the tub while you bathed, reading to you to keep you company. Though on certain days, you’d find his eyes flicker from the paper towards your hands when you had to use a razor, which even he was iffy about, and hid once you were done.

He never said he didn’t trust you, but don’t really be surprised if your razor is replaced with hair removal cream for the first few weeks.

If you were comfortable enough to seek out therapy, he’d offer up numbers of therapists he’s visited and trusted, helping you keep up schedules. After each session, he’d surprise you with flowers and boba on a park walk, or drive outside of Gotham.

Progress would be made, but progress wouldn’t move forward without your weak moments.

You’d have your days where your motivation was as stubborn as Jason’s mentality, refusing to listen to the things he said, or not bothering to get dressed for your next scheduled session.

Depression is horrid, but he understood. He was the most patient man you knew, cradling your body close to his in the middle of the night, muffling your minutes of screaming sobs against his chest, gently prying your hands away from your forearms when you dig your nails in a little too deep.

He’d remain awake as long as he had to, cradling your hands in his until your agony mellowed out, lulling you back to sleep. He was being the person he wished he had by his side long before he met you, back when he was alone and had no one.

Jason looked forward to the days you’d smile again, genuine happiness being a fuel to those pleasant flames. It’s okay if it would take a long time, keep giving him your tears. He can handle it.

You were the greatest gift he’s ever gotten in this fucked up world, not even you were going to take it away from him.

- -

I don’t know what death is like, nor do I know of all beliefs everyone has of them, but I do know about suicidal thoughts/intentions and having experienced them, please know, as tired as you may be, it isn’t worth it. My inbox is open if you ever need it. Dosent matter if you’re a stranger, let’s not be ❤️

[betterthanpekej]

How Could You Say No?

Summary: Your boyfriend, Chifuyu, gets home from work and has a surprise. Just don't be mad at him, okay?

WC: 985 Tags: Chifuyu x reader, gn!reader, fluff, established relationship, Chifuyu is your pure of heart cat dad boyfriend

The clock on the wall ticked away as you wiped down the countertops, your final task for the day out of the small list you had made. You wiped your brow and tossed the rag into the dirty clothes in the laundry room as you heard the front door open. You poked your head around the corner, smiling at your boyfriend as he walked towards you. Something about the look on his face was troubling though, he looked puzzled, almost frantic but trying to keep himself together.

“Fuyu, is something wrong?” you said, frowning and making your way into the hallway. He was looking at you directly as he came down towards you and put one of his hands out, keeping the other behind his back. “Before you say anything, don’t be mad, okay?” he said nervously. Confused, you cocked your head to the side and gave him a weird look. “What are you talking about?” you said. As soon as the words left your mouth, you heard a small mew from behind him.

“Chifuyu… What is that?” you asked in a low tone. He gave you a sweet smile, trying to feign his innocence so you wouldn’t stay mad at him. He brought his other hand from around his back, holding a small kitten. It was roughly about 2 months old, small enough to fit in just one of his hands. He brought the kitten up to his face, putting his cheek against the small orange creature’s tiny face. “Pretty please,” he asked adorably as he gave you puppy dog eyes.

“Oh, come on?! How am I supposed to say no to that?” you said playfully. “Give it to me, give it to me now.” You took the kitten from his hands, letting it nuzzle up around your neck as it gave little mews. Chifuyu just stood there, pleased with himself. “Isn’t he cute?” he said as he rubbed the little kitten’s head softly. “I mean, yeah, he is. But where did you even get this little thing from?” you asked. He smirked as he kept petting the kitten. “Some couple found it and brought it to the pet store, but he’s so small I couldn’t put him with the other cats up for adoption. So I just had to bring him here… for work, y’know?”

His smile was beaming as he spoke. You knew going into this relationship that there would be a day that your soft-hearted, cat-loving boyfriend would bring a small critter home to you. He acted as though you would be mad, but in truth, there was no way you could be mad at him for this- especially when the little kitten had no real place to go. Rescues and shelters in the area were filled to the brim with pets looking for homes. Even if one had agreed to take him, you’d still have to wait a month or two before he could even go to them due to space. Chifuyu’s heart was one of the reasons you loved him so. His intentions were always pure, and when it came to animals, there was nothing he wouldn’t do to help them.

“I’m sure it’s only for business, mhmm,” you said with a playful eye roll. He snickered at your words. “Okay. give Baked Beans back to me,” he said, reaching for the little kitten at your neck. You turned yourself away from him and dropped your jaw. “No, this is my baby now. And did you just call him Baked Beans? Is that supposed to be his name?” you teased. “Uh, yeah? I took him in, so I get to name him. What- you don’t like it?” he said sarcastically. You took the little kitten from your neck and held him out in front of you, looking him over for a second before cuddling him once more. You turned around and started to walk down the hallway.

“Y’know, Peke J isn’t going to be too happy about little Baked Beans here,” you called to Chifuyu with a chuckle. He came up behind you, wrapping one of arm around you as you both walked into the kitchen. “Yeah, well I think he wants a new friend anyway,” he said. Peke J was sitting in his cat tree by the bay window. He perked up and gave a little stretch and yawn as he heard Chifuyu’s voice. “Look dude, we got you a little brother,” Chifuyu sang as he took the kitten from your hands. He bent down beside the cat tree, holding Baked Beans in one hand and petting Peke J with his other.

“See, they’ll be fine,” he said with a smile as he turned and looked at you. Baked Beans gave a little mew, making Peke J hiss and jump back onto his tree. You laughed as Chifuyu’s eyes met yours, his eyes wide with concern. “Chifuyu, it’ll be fine. Peke J is just used to being alone with you, give it some time,” you chuckled. Chifuyu got up from the floor and came over to the counters. “So.. what do we do about food for this little guy?” He looked to you for insight.

“Well, lucky for you, I have something just for this.” You looked in one of the back cabinets and pulled out a small bag of kitten food. “We just have kitten food laying around?” Chifuyu laughed. You poured a small scoop into a saucer dish and put it on the counter. Chifuyu put Baked Beans onto the counter with the food. The little growls coming from the kitten as he ate was adorable. He was so small, yet so ferocious in his own right. “We have kitten food because I knew one day we would need it,” you said softly as you looked at Baked Beans and then at Chifuyu. Chifuyu smiled widely as your eyes met his. “You know me too well.”

Cat Divider | © please do not copy and or repost my work as your own, my brain is massive and these are my thoughts.

[jump-in-the-whump]

Sorry this question isn't really whump related buuuuuut, do you have any "bickering like an old married couple" prompts up your sleeves?

Hi! This is a scenario I really like, especially when the characters are in some kind of difficult situation! So here's to you some with this vibe.

The plan had unraveled in the chaos, and now they were stuck hiding behind crates in a warehouse, guards swarming the area. A peeked over the top, only to duck down quickly as footsteps grew closer.

A whispered harshly, “I thought you said you had this under control!”

B shot them a look, eyes wide. “I did! But then you had to improvise, didn’t you?”

A glared back. “Oh, sorry for trying to save us when your plan went sideways.”

B groaned. “You didn’t save us, you made it worse! Now we’re hiding behind crates, genius!”

They both froze as a guard passed close by, breath held until the footsteps faded. B finally exhaled. “Next time, just stick to the plan, will you?”

A grumbled, “Next time, come up with a plan that doesn’t suck.”

They were ankle-deep in muck, trying to make their way through the sewers after their original escape route had been cut off. The smell was unbearable, but that didn’t stop the constant bickering.

A gagged slightly, holding their nose. “This is disgusting. Next time you suggest a ‘shortcut,’ remind me to not listen to you.”

B shot them a look over their shoulder. “Hey, it’s either this or getting caught. I didn’t see you coming up with any better ideas.”

A grumbled, squelching through the filth. “I would’ve preferred literally anything else to walking through a river of sewage.”

B rolled their eyes. “Yeah, well, you’re still here, aren’t you?”

A scowled. “Only because if I leave you alone, you’ll just get lost.”

B snorted. “Lost? I’m the only one who knows where we’re going!”

A muttered under their breath, “Right into more trouble, no doubt.”

The cave walls echoed with dripping water as they huddled against the cold, both panting from the exertion of escaping the ambush. Blood trickled down from a gash on A's arm as B fumbled with the bandages, frustration etched on their face.

A winced as the bandage was pulled tighter than necessary. “Could you try not to strangle my arm?”

B shot them a glare, hands not pausing in their work. “Maybe if you didn’t charge in like a headless chicken, we wouldn’t be here in the first place.”

A groaned, rolling their eyes. “Oh, here we go. You were right, I was wrong—again. Let’s just skip to that part so we can focus on the bleeding.”

B tugged the knot on the bandage a little harder than needed, making A wince. “Don’t tempt me. You know I can leave you to bleed out.”

A smirked despite the pain. “You love me too much for that.”

B sighed, softening as they secured the bandage. “Unfortunately, I do. Now stop squirming.”

The storm raged outside, wind howling against the crumbling walls of the abandoned building they had taken shelter in. B sat slumped in the corner, clutching their leg, blood soaking through the makeshift tourniquet. A was kneeling beside them, trying to tighten the bandage with trembling fingers.

“I told you not to go after that damn thing,” A grumbled, glaring at their friend’s leg as if it were personally responsible.

B clenched their jaw, shivering slightly. “And I told you to shut up about it already. What’s done is done.”

A shook their head, tying off the bandage. “Yeah, except you’re done if we don’t stop the bleeding. You’re not exactly useful to me as a corpse.”

B managed a weak laugh despite the pain. “I’d make a fantastic ghost though. I’d haunt you into the afterlife.”

A shot them a look, half-amused, half-exasperated. “You already haunt me and you’re still alive.”

B smirked. “Then I’m doing my job right.”

Hope you like these, thank you for the ask <3

[cositapreciosa]

Serve, love & protect

Bodyguard!Gilbert 'Gilly' Lopez x reader, the usual for the show, 1584 words

a/n : bodyguard au cause we love them tropes

Tagging my Gilly people @narcolini @drabbles-mc <3

‘’ You lied to me. ‘’

‘’ I did. ‘’

‘’ Are you even dating me or is this all a big joke too? ‘’

He sighs, and suddenly the big SUV feels too small for the both of them. The cracked glass across the windshield makes it hard to see, the busted window in the back letting the wind whistle between his ears.

‘’ I… ‘’

His tongue rolls in his mouth, he doesn’t know what to say. On one side, he shouldn’t tell you, admit that he likes you, not when your dad had been clear about that in the contract. All means necessary, don’t fall in love. On the other, how couldn’t he, when you had been so kind, so charming since the beginning, why wouldn’t he want to date you?

‘’ Don’t. ‘’ You answer back, sinking into your seat. ‘’ I don’t want to know. ‘’

He had done lots of business with your dad before, a strong man with piercing eyes, sharp suits. That is where the offer came from, between gun trades and small talk. Got a babysitting job for you, Gilly, easy work, easy cash. More like a bodyguard job, a dumbass bodyguard job with actual danger, guns and wounds. Your dad had told him you wouldn’t be easily convinced, that to ensure your safety he would have to be less traditional, less leather and handgun, more friend, even closer if needed. And he did, even if he knew it wasn’t part of the plan, letting you run your fingers through his beard, sharing the same side of the bed, he just couldn’t say no.

‘’ Listen, baby, I- ‘’

‘’ Don’t- oh my god, Gilly what the fuck is wrong with you?! ‘’

Your hands are tight, gripping the door handle as he takes a sharp left. You turn to face him.

‘’ Stop it, it’s over! Don’t ‘baby’ me, don’t… ‘’ you gesticulate around, hands flying, ‘’ Just stop. ‘’

You raise your palms to your eyes, pressing, muttering things he can’t understand. He can sense your distress, he knows you now, better than anyone, more than your father would like him to probably. It has been months since you two had been together now, good months, the best ones for him this year. It was an easy job at first too, simply because you never were a primary target, just one that they would try to hit if deals went wrong. Being the child of a gun lord usually came with a fair share of barrels pointing back, and, from what he had seen from you when bullets eventually started flying, staying low and away from the windows, this whole routine was old news to you.

‘’ Please don’t be mad, I can explain. ‘’ He tries again.

You scoff, and he watches as you squint your eyes at him. It makes him feel small in his seat.

‘’ I don’t think you can, Gilly. Save your breath. ‘’

The car is colder now that the sun has gone down and he watches the wind wrap around your hair, lets the breeze bring goosebumps to his arms. He knows the two of you are too exposed, in this beat-up car, bullet holes on each side. It pains him that he knows the only place you will truly be safe is at your dad’s house, and he has to bring you there, not the club, not his house, not anywhere else. Drop you off, collect his hazard pay and leave. Leave you and hope you will answer his texts, even if he something tells him you probably won't.

He takes a left turn, fast, into a poorly lit backstreet, almost propelling you against your window side. The breaks get pressed just as fast, and you have to brace yourself with your hands on the dash.

‘’ Have you gone mad?! Did they hit you on the head or something?! ‘’

Gilly turns off the car and pivotes to you, bringing his arm up to wrap the back of your seat, caging you in.

‘’ I can explain. ‘’ Let me, please.

He is observing you, the frown between your brows, the anger in your eyes, the dried blood on the side of your face. It is superficial, really, barely a scratch, but he has to hold himself back from reaching out, move your chin to the side so he can get a better look. He breathes your name as the overhead lights dim out, leaving the two of you in the dark, pleading. He can smell your perfume, hear the shakiness in your breath.

‘’ Okay, whatever. ‘’

You cross your arms around your chest. Even in the darkness, he knows you are watching him, waiting.

‘’ I like you, I do. ‘’ He starts, ‘’ I wasn’t supposed to, though, we just needed to be friends, you know? So I could make sure you were safe. ‘’ But I failed.

‘’ My dad hired you. ‘’

‘’ He did. ‘’

Your shadow moves, moving to the side to lay your head on the headrest. Your voice is soft, going through the motions, exhausted. You must be tired, the rest of the adrenaline dripping out of you in waves.

‘’ Do you work for him, selling the guns and stuff? ‘’

‘’ More like with him, I’m in a motorcycle club. ‘’

We buy them, he could have said, sell some back if they ever come across a nice shipment from god knows where, but he doesn’t. You are smart, you get it.

‘’ You’re used to getting shot a lot. ‘’ It is not a question, more like a fact, piecing the information together.

‘’ You could say that. ‘’

He holds his free hand out, and you take it, his warm fingers taking in your cold ones. He can tell you have softened up, put down the axe.

‘’ You really like me? ‘’

‘’ I do, very much. ‘’

You squeeze his hand, gently, even though he can’t see, he knows you are pursing your lips, biting the inside of your cheek. You move gently, twisting between your seat and the cup holder, leaning down and pressing your cheek on his shoulder. He can feel your body relax into his.

‘’ Can we go home now? I want a hot shower. ‘’

‘’ I know you do, baby, we’ll be there soon. ‘’

He lets you nuzzle into in shirt, caressing your hair with his free hand. He starts the car, driving back up to the main street. He doesn’t have the guts to tell you you are going home alone tonight, that there is no way in hell your dad will let you sleep somewhere else.

To his surprise, you don’t put much of a fight when you notice the gates around your dad’s house, or when he says your name into the intercom so you can be let in, but you are a smart one, of course, you picked it up. The nuances, the conflict inside of him, how he couldn’t get out of the car at first, couldn’t let go of your arm when people started pouring out the house. I’m good, Gilly, you whispered to him, thank you. And so he listens, he lets go, picks up his cash and leaves.

.

A week passes, a long one, of mindless thinking, passing time, putting cars on the lift and then bringing them down. He hears about you at Templo one morning, barely a sentence, something about your dad catching the guys, how business between him and the Mayans has been booming since then. Thanks, Gilly. Good job, man. The military training finally paying off, uh? He nods and smiles, but he doesn’t ask about you. He tries to play it low, make it seem like he is not taking the biggest hit of his life.

When he gets home that afternoon, something is different, maybe it is the way the grass is bent where it usually isn’t, how the doormat is slightly crooked, but it is you sitting at the diner table that makes him stop in his tracks.

His hand is still on the gun at the back of his waist, his other tight on the door handle when you wave at him, a small smile on your lips. Your hair is slightly shorter, different, and you are wearing too many layers for the California heat. You speak first.

‘’ Hey, baby… ‘’

Gilly lets go of the handle at his back and closes the door behind him. Baby. Baby. You stand up before he can talk back, nervously taking a few steps towards him.

‘’ We were on lockdown, I couldn’t call, I couldn’t leave. ‘’ Your fingers are pulling at threads on your jeans pocket. ‘’ I’m sorry, Gilly. ‘’

He melts, there is nothing else he can do. His arms find their way naturally around you, one hand on your head, pushing your cheek against his chest. He knows you can feel his heart beating in your ear, hear the relief that comes out of him with a sigh. There is no hesitation when you hug back, warm fingers griping at his cut.

‘’ I will never lie again, I swear. ‘’

You laugh, and it makes him squeeze tighter.

‘’ It’s alright, only for good reasons from now on, okay? ‘’

Okay, he will. Protecting you will be a full-time job now, maybe not the small contract he thought he was going into, something different, something warm and meaningful—soft, loved.

The most pleasant job in the world.

[fiberslut]

Always in Powers

Pairing: Lukas Matsson x roy!reader

This is just a headcanon about being the youngest Roy sibling

You’re just holding a meeting while some unknown number pops up on your phone. You excuse yourself and answer to that number to hear Marcia’s voice. ‘Your father needs you’ she says, ‘I’m sorry, I think you’ve got the wrong number, I don’t have a father’ ‘He’s offering you to be the CEO’ ‘What happened to Ken and Rome?’ ‘Let’s discuss about it when you’re here, next month is your father’s birthday remember?’ ‘As I said, I don’t have a father’ ‘See you soon’ and then she hung up

You have no idea what does he want. He’s ignored you for 22 years of your life but now he wanted to see you? and offering you to be the CEO of Waystar?

At a very young age, you’ve lived in the same house as Connor, Kendall, Roman, and Shiv. But one day your father hit you for some unknown reason, your mom knew about it, fired a restraining order against Logan, divorced him, and moved you two back to your mom’s country.

From that day on, you would go by her last name.

Since your mom is a very famous actress/model in your country, that made you’re also in the limelight too.

You hate Logan. Hate how he treated you and your mom. Hated how he never fought to get you back. Hate how he never calls on your birthday. Hate how he never said ‘Happy birthday kid’ to you. Hate how you would have no one to celebrate Father’s Day with.

That’s why you always work so hard, and be able to graduate double degree from Harvard Business School and Harvard Law School at the age of 22. And since you’re famous (thanks to your mom) you have a lot of celebrity friends, which helps with your clothing company to be successful and to be accepted worldwide.

Now you’re in Italy for Caroline’s wedding. But Logan wants you to go with him and Roman to talk about business with this Matsson guy.

He is a very interesting guy. Not like what you have in mind about tech bro.

Lukas couldn’t stop looking at you while talking with Logan. Rome sees it too and he’s not happy about it.

While you’re on the boat back to the wedding venue, some odd numbers appear on your phone, you answer it and it’s Lukas. ‘How did you get my number Mr. Matsson?’ Rome hears that and signal you to hang up the phone, while Logan is smiling in a victorious way.

‘He’s not going to give you CEO’ Kendall says, ‘From what Roman told me, he’s obviously using you to woo Matsson’ ‘No he’s not, he promised me’ you argue back, ‘He promised me too’ Shiv adds

From that day on you’ve talked and texted with Lukas every day. You find him so laid back and funny not like any guys you’ve dated.

You are Roman’s favorite, he’s the only one who visits you every year, so since you’re back in New York, you usually hang out at Roman’s place.

‘What are you smiling at?’ Roman asks ‘Don’t tell me it’s that Swede again, aren’t you dating that Denmark prince?’ ‘He’s a Count and no we’re not dating’ ‘It’s creepy, Matsson is too old for you’ ‘Um, I don’t think you should be the one to lecture me about what is creepy or what is not huh Mr. send-your-dick-pic-to-dad’

When you’re free of meeting, you will fly to Sweden. You and Lukas have developed a serious relationship. ‘What if I buy your dad’s company?’ He asks. ‘There is a cheaper way to impress me Lukas’ ‘No I’m serious’ ‘Then you should buy ATN too’ ‘Wouldn’t that destroy him?’ ‘That’s my point’

You were at Connor's side when you heard the news. That Logan is dead while he's on the plane to meet Lukas. You felt empty, just blank, not any hint of sadness. You saw Kendall, Roman, and Shiv were crying and saying I love you Dad at the phone. They're devastated at the news and couldn't do the interview, so it was you to do it.

Your sibling didn't have time to mourn Logan's death that much since Lukas invited them and the company to Norway.

You were excited, you and Lukas agreed to make your relationship official at the retreat.

Everyone was so shocked except Roman, he saw it coming since the first day. Kendall totally couldn't accept it, he refused to talk to you all day. Shiv just looked at you in disbelief but didn't say anything.

You love this retreat, you always ask Greg to be your photographer for your Instagram. Lukas hates how you are always with Greg when you should be next to him.

So he asks Greg who he is and insulted him in Swedish in front of his friends. You get mad at him for talking about your family like that. You and Lukas have a fight and you ended up leaving the retreat that afternoon and flying back to New York to help Connor with the funeral.

You haven't heard from him until the funeral day. You saw him with Shiv and that totally sums up everything for you. You ignore him all morning just to end up being pulled away into the dark corner of the church, him kissing you passionately and saying he's sorry and how much he's missed you.

So that week he stayed with you at your penthouse and he proposed to you.

He has you by his side while taking a group photo as GoJo successfully bought Waystar and ATN. You showing your new engagement ring as your new chapter of life is about to start as a wife and an American CEO of Waystar.

[sunshine-theseus]

Fuck the RFEF | Amaiur Sarrigei x Reader

Words: 1.8k Summary: you refuse to play for the national team, risking your playing license, Amaiur disagrees Warnings: angst, !!mentions of SA!!, let’s pretend the girls are on a break in Barca before the call-up and Amaiur went to the wwc Requested by - @realsociadadferminofan

Patri, Cláudia and Mapi were who I always went to when something went wrong. Joining the 3 in abstaining from national team call ups after the 2022 Euros and being one of the 4 that refused a call-up for the world cup due to lack of action toward Jorge Vilda’s misconduct, they were basically my closest friends. Not to say the other girls didn’t mean a lot, I know if they felt like they could, they’d have joined us in refusing. But these 3 were who I had when I felt like crying as I watched my friends and girlfriend win the biggest football tournament in the world.

This also meant I’d go to them with relationship problems.

-

“What do you mean?” Patri had quickly paused the movie she was watching and called Mapi and Cláudia over when I came crying and banging on her door.

“I told her ‘I don’t care about losing my license if it means going against my morals and everything I’ve protested’ and she called me selfish and brainless.” Another sob wracks my body and I fall back into the arms of whoever is next to me.

“Amaiur said that?” it’s Cláudia who asks, tone of voice proving how ludicrous Am’s actions were.

“Verbatim.”

--

“Am! Did you get the email?” I yell across the house for my girlfriend who sits in the living room doing God knows what.

“Sí! Did you?”

“Yeah! What did you say?” my teeth worry at my bottom lip as I wait for her answer.

“I said yes, it’s a national call up. What about you?” I’m not sure what to say as my girlfriend strolls into our bedroom, holding her phone to her face.

She’s clearly re-reading the email we’d all been sent. An email majority of us had signed a statement saying we should not receive if changes were not made, especially after the events at the world cup.

“No.”

“Que? Que quieres decir ‘no'?” (what do you mean ‘no’?) Amaiur gives me a shocked look as I retreat beneath our blankets.

“Nothing has changed Am. How am I supposed to go back? Did you even read the full email? ‘If you refuse this national team call-up, your professional playing license may be revoked in correlation to the Spanish FIFA and RFEF code of conduct.’ They’re forcing me to reject my morals and risk my entire career for some shit call-up.” Angry tears prick at the corner of my eyes. This isn’t fair, how does she find this fair?

“Bebé, they got rid of Rubiales and Jorge, that’s what everyone was fighting for. You, Mapi, Patri and Cláudia, you can come back now.”

“Amaiur how do you not see nothing has fucking changed just because they got rid of two shitty people? Alexia, Ona, they wouldn’t be going if it wasn’t to protect the other girls, especially the younger ones. Esas chicas merecen algo major.” (those girls deserve better).

“So you’re not going? You’re giving up your career for this? You’re being a selfish and brainless cabrona!” (dumbass) the anger quickly melts off her face and regret fills her eyes, but I’m already pulling the sheets off me and heading for the door.

I grab my keys from the bowl that sits on the table beside the door, and leave. Her pleas for me to come back so she can apologise are futile as I walk down the hall. Señor Perez, the old man with many cats, sits at the end of the hall, giving me a pitiful smile that I return before making my way down the stairs.

--

“Ese pedazo de mierda.” (that piece of shit) it’s the first thing Mapi has said all evening, but it makes me laugh.

“No. I mean yes, but I still love her, I don’t think she meant it. We were both just angry.” It’s hard not to defend the girl I’ve loved for so long, but I know I’m right.

She’s always supported my decision to stand up against the RFEF and higher-ups. I just think she expected after Rubiales and Vilda were gone, we’d be playing together again. Admittedly I’d momentarily thought the same, but there was no way I could go back.

“Are you guys going?” the trio give each other guilty looks before turning to me. No one says anything.

“It’s okay if you do. I truly understand, you guys shouldn’t risk your careers for this. You’re being forced into it and that isn’t fair. I’ll support you no matter what.” I place an arm around Patri and grab Cláudia and Mapi’s hands.

“Thank you hermosa. We’re still going to fight this, from the inside.” Mapi says it in a funny voice and sends me a wink and I can’t stop the laugh that escapes.

Not much else can be said before we settle down on the couch to continue whatever movie it is the Patri has playing. Despite me calming down, I didn’t think I was in a state to return to my girlfriend quite yet. The universe seems to disagree.

There’s a loud knocking on the door and a familiar voice rings out from behind it.

“Patri, I know Y/n is in there! I need to talk to her! Please?” I’m standing and opening the door before anyone can reply.

Amaiur doesn’t waist a second in spewing out apologies and wrapping her arms around me. I reciprocate the gesture and begin rocking us back and forth. It’s hard to ignore the stares of our Spanish teammates who sit looking on in the living room.

“I’m so, so sorry, I can’t believe I said that to you. I stand by you, you know that. I’m just so scared for you and your career. You love playing so much and you might lose it all because of this.” I let out a sigh and pull away, resting a hand on her cheek.

“Do you want to know why I’m so willing to risk it all? Why I need this change so bad before I can come back?” she gives a simple shake of her head.

I have to give myself a second, swallowing nervously as I look into her eyes. The warmest, most beautiful eyes. She should know, I’ve hid it for too long.

“When… When we played in the Euros, there was one night where I was feeling bad. You were out with some of the girls, and I was in our room alone. Well around an hour after you left, Vilda came bursting in, obviously we weren’t allowed to lock our doors so there was nothing to stop him. He asked why I wasn’t doing team bonding and I told him I wasn’t feeling well. He came toward me and hugged me like he was going to comfort me, but-” I begin to choke on my words and tears breach my waterline. I can’t bare to look at the girls around me.

Am places a hand softly over my hand that rests on my own arm and I take a deep breath before continuing.

“His hands began to stray. I told him to stop and shoved him away, but he just kept going. He groped my ass and boobs, tried taking my clothes off. He slipped his hand down my shorts.”

“Did he…” Amauri is too scared to finish her sentence.

“He didn’t get that far; someone came knocking on the door and he just left with a sick grin.”

“Did you report him?” Everyone around me looks like they’re about to throw up, but for the most part they look angry.

“I reported him to every higher-up I could. They laughed me off and told me I was being delusional. That is why I can’t go back until there is actual change. Especially after what happened to Jenni and knowing other girls have been through it too. If that means I lose the job I love? So be it. They won’t shut me up.”

“I’m not goin-” Am tries.

“Yes you fucking are. I already told those 3, and I will tell Alexia and Marta and Mariona and whoever else I need to. You have to go, to ensure things change. And to make sure the younger girls are safe.” Cláudia, Patri and Mapi have all disappeared, so it just leaves me and my girlfriend.

“For you. I’ll do anything for you bebé.” I stand on my tippy toes to press a kiss to her lips.

“Thank you.”

~~~~~

4 members of the Spanish Women’s National Team have been released from international duty without sanctions, not including Alexia Putellas who has been allowed to leave due to injury. Is the change we’ve been waiting for, finally coming?

It’s the main headline across all media platforms the morning of the second day of camp. A 7-hour meeting to release 4 players. Fucking ridiculous.

Despite it, a smile tugs at my lips as I sit in bed, the sun filtering through the stained-glass windows of Amaiur and my bedroom back in Donostia-San Sebastian. I wait patiently for my girlfriend to arrive, a cup of coffee on her bedside time while my own rests in my left hand.

“Hola bebé! Is that coffee I smell?” the door slams shut behind Amaiur and her footsteps slowly creep closer to the bedroom.

I place my coffee on my own bedside table and get up, pouncing into her arms when she walks through the open door. She stumbles for a moment before adjusting her grip on my thighs, smiling brightly up at me as I lean down and kiss her hard.

My hands thread through her hair and she turns us around and walks forward to press me against the wall. In a moment of weakness, she squeezes my thigh and I let out a moan, allowing her to slip her tongue past my lips.

Not long after, we have to break apart for air.

“You’d think I’d been missing for months with the way you kiss me.”

“Any amount of time away from you it too long.” I give her a small smile and she pecks my nose, making me giggle.

“Can we cuddle and drink coffee while we watch movies?” I pout at her as puts me back on my two feet.

“Anything for my girl.”

Very soon after, I find myself in her arms on the couch, all curtains drawn shut, warm cups of coffee abandoned on the table, Encanto playing loudly on the TV. Naturally I sing along poorly and quote every line.

“Have you heard from the RFEF about your license?” I smile into her neck at the question.

“I get to keep it. And they gave an apology. Not that it means much still, but we’re getting there.” Amaiur squeals and jumps off the couching, taking me with her. She lifts me up and spins me around before putting me back down, spreading kissing across my face. My heart clenches at her display of love. How can one be so perfect?

[footprintsinthesxnd]

It’s Not Christmas Without You

Hello @supervalcsi I am your Secret Santa for @hbowardaily secret santa. I’ll prewarn you this fic is a bit angsty (like a little bit 😂) but I heared that you like angst so I’m hoping it’s okay. I hope you have a very Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!

Warnings: very angsty, mentions of death and images of war

Johnny had always loved the festive season, the lights, the carols, the food and the general feeling that no matter what the year threw at them they would make it to the next Christmas. But this year Johnny didn’t feel even remotely festive. He couldn’t see any hope of him making it through the night, let alone the next year. The artillery barrage had finally ceased, and debris lay strewn across the once crisp, white landscape. Fallen branches blocked his view of the front line but he knew they were there, hiding… waiting.

Loud footsteps drew him from his thoughts as a figure stood over him, blocking his view of the sky that for once was clear. Blue smudges spread between the grey clouds almost like a sign of hope.

“Hey Martin, whatcha thinking about?” Y/n all but threw herself down beside him, her characteristic smile on her face, the wide grin that no matter how down you felt on your luck, could make you smile too.

“That we’re doomed.”

Y/n snorted, “Well you got out of the wrong side of your foxhole this morning.” She rolled her eyes dramatically.

“Well, we are. Kraut artillery is hammering us every chance they get, and when they aren’t shelling us the damn cold sets in and you all but freeze your balls off.”

“Come on Martin, don’t be like that. We’re alive aren’t we, that’s all that matters.”

“Yeah, just,” Johnny grumbled, snuggling further into his jacket and shoving his glove-clad hands even deeper into his pockets.

“Right you old Scrooge, you’re coming with me,” she stood, grabbing hold of his arm and dragging him from the depths of his foxhole.

“Who the hell is Scrooge?” Johnny moaned, trailing behind her like a dejected puppy.

“You don’t know who Scrooge is? From ‘A Christmas Carol? Charles Dickens?” Johnny continued to look at her blankly.

“I wish Webster was here, he’d know who I was talking about.”

Johnny laughed, “Yeah good old Webster, couldn’t even go AWOL to help us in this shit. I bet he’s really nice and warm back in that hospital.”

Y/n sighed, turning around to face him, “Don’t be such a downer. I’m glad Webster’s not here. It means he’s safe which means one less of my friends could die at any second. Now I’ll take that as a win.”

Johnny had to admit that it was nice to know that at least one of Easy Company wouldn’t go through this debacle.

“Now come with me and try to smile at least.”

Johnny followed Y/n, walking past foxholes filled with their friends who were still deep in slumber, taking advantage of the few hours of peace.

They approached Y/n's foxhole that she shared with Eugene and she gestured towards the small fir tree that stood a few meters from the hole. Around the tree was strung some rope with rudimental Christmas decorations of fir cones and leaves, a few scraps of red fabric that Johnny wasn’t sure where Y/n had gotten it from.

“What is all this?” He asked, disbelief and confusion evident in his handsome features.

“It’s our Christmas tree and this…” Y/n dug into her pocket and pulled out a ragged looking lump, “is your Christmas present. I’m sorry it’s not much. It was all I could get in Bastogne when I went in at the last supply drop.” Johnny’s face softened, and he lifted his hand, brushing it gently against her frozen cheek.

“I’m sure it’s perfect.” He unwrapped the bandage material from around the gift and found a small, ceramic angel ornament inside.

Johnny's face crinkled into a smile and his eyes shone brightly as he looked down at the angel.

“Thank you, Y/n but you didn’t have to…”

“I wanted to,” Y/n interrupted, her bright eyes staring up at him through hooded lashes. Johnny had never truly appreciated her beauty until now. The way her hair hung down framing her face, her nose scrunched as she laughed at jokes that George would tell her, the way her forehead creased as she glared at Skip as he won another bet against her. Even now all covered in the dirt and grime of the Bois Jacque she was a picture of beauty.

“Y/n, could I ask you something?” Johnny felt himself growing nervous, his mouth felt dry and his left eye twitched as he tried to find the right words.

“Of course.”

“Well, you know as it’s Christmas… and well we might not make it through the next year… I was just wondering if I could…”

Y/n having grown impatient by Johnny stuttering, grabbed the lapel of his coat and yanked him towards her. “Yes,” she replied before placing her lips against his. The kiss was soft and full of feeling. Johnny felt himself winding his arms around her waist as Y/n fingers delved into his hair, tugging at the grimy, brown lock. Johnny normally would have felt self-conscious about his appearance but at that moment all he could think of was the woman in his arms.

When they pulled away, both couldn’t help the large smile that grew across their lips.

“Merry Christmas Y/L/N.”

“Merry Christmas Martin.”

“Hey Luz, you owe me 20 bucks,” Skip mouthed across the snowy ground to where George was sheltering in his foxhole.

“Fuck off, it’s Christmas for Christ's sake,” George grumbled, shoving his helmet further over his head to shield himself from Skip's view.

“I’d pay up if I were you, Luz. Skip owes Bull money and if you don’t pay up, he can’t pay Bull. I wouldn’t want to get on the wrong side of Randleman,” Malarkey confessed, looking up from his canteen of steaming coffee.

“Yeah right! Bull’s not going to do anything to me,” George’s laughter soon ceased as a large snowball hit the back of his helmet, splattering down his back and allowing the ice to penetrate his winter coat.

“That son of a bitch!”

“Pay up, Luz!” Bull’s hearty laughter could be heard from a few feet away and George sighed.

“After everything I do for you lot. All those Hershey bars I saved for you guys and this is how you repay me. Merry fucking Christmas to me.”

That was last Christmas. 1944. Amid the Ardennes, the snow created a frozen wasteland where the dead lay in shallow graves, forgotten by many.

Patty was bustling around the kitchen, clattering pots and pans while she had left Johnny in charge of decorating the tree with the children. The kids were messing around while Johnny half-heartedly dug through the box of decorations until his fingers brushed against something smooth, familiar, cold to the touch. He pulled the ornament free and with a shaky breath he ran his thumb over the dusty angel. It still had mud crusted to one of its wings and the other hung slightly lopsided where Webster and his clumsy hands had dropped it in Haguenau. Johnny didn’t realise he was crying until Patty laid her hand on his shoulder making him jump.

“Oh Johnny, it’s beautiful. Here let me hang it on the tree,” she reached forward for it but Johnny snatched his hand away.

“No!” He snapped, “Don’t touch it… don’t…” Patty looked a little hurt but she knew her husband didn’t mean it out of malice. He was hurting more than he’d ever admit and she knew the war had been hard on them all but Johnny would never talk about who he’d lost.

“You got it Belgium, didn’t you?” She asked, trying to coax her husband to share his feelings.

“Yes,” he whispered, looking down through blurry eyes at the simple figure. “A friend gave it to me.”

Patty nodded, moving around to crouch in front of her husband.

“Well, how about we put it on the tree? To remember him by. I know he meant a lot to you.”

Johnny stood, moving across the room in slow motion. As the ornament connected with the branch of the tree, it felt like the whole world stopped for just a moment. He was back in the forest, snow covering his helmet as he walked hand in hand with Y/n. Her cold fingers wrapped tightly in his palm, her laughter wafting through the trees.

Patty’s hand slipped into Johnny’s and she squeezed it gently, resting her head on her husband's shoulder she hummed, “I would have liked to have met him.”

Johnny cocked his head to look at his wife, “I wish you had too. They were taken from me far too soon.”

The couple stood silently side by side, their children playing at their feet while music from the radio drifted around them. Johnny felt a single tear trail down his cheek.

“Goodbye, Y/n.”

Tags: @georgieluz @iceman-kazansky @yeahcurrahhe-e @lieutenant-speirs @sharpshootershifty @liberteuniteegalite @msmercury84 @mayhem24-7forever @blvestxr @dustyjumpwjngs @theflyingfin @jump-wings @kafka-ohdear @kmc1989 @mads-weasley @docroesmorphine @liptonsbabe @lena-basilone @sweetxvanixlla @hesbuckcompton-baby @ronsparky @allthingsimagines @whollyjoly @bucky32557038ww2 @panzershrike-pretz @xxluckystrike @malarkgirlypop @hanniewinnix