#i got four hours of sleep cause i kept getting sick to my stomach

[moonlight-prose]

I’m very tired.

[lethalchiralium]

Open His Eyes | 2 | Simon “Ghost” Riley x GN!Reader

Chapter Two: When It’s Dark Out

a/n: you will not believe how much research i do for these things lmao

summary: After your surprise was measly dropped on your stoop last night, you couldn’t sleep. Wine and sleep deprivation became your best friend - while Soap tries to help the situation.

REMINDER: This is a side-blog, not my main! If you have any questions, feel free to message this blog or reblog! Reblogs are always appreciated - as well as any comments, they keep me motivated to write stuff like this!

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You didn’t sleep.

Your phone sat on the floor in front of you, next to your glass of expensive wine. The sun bled through the curtains, but all you could watch was Ghost’s bare chest rising and falling. Your eyes hurt from not sleeping for over twenty four hours, but shock had taken hold of your body. Drinking an entire bottle of wine and half of another kept you occupied, even after you waited with bated breath for Price’s response. A response that never came.

It was nine in the morning now, you poured what was your ‘last’ cup of wine before taking the glass to your lips. You took in a large amount, wiping your mouth before you put the glass down again. You were a bit tipsy, but you couldn’t handle being sober in a room with the man you… care for being in pain. Well, you wouldn’t know if he was in pain - it’s been five and a half hours and he still hasn’t moved, other than steadily breathing. It was unnerving and made you sick to your stomach, usually the man would shift in his sleep. You were used to it, accustomed to it, expected it. You were anxious now, because none of his fingers had even twitched.

Your phone began to ring loudly, terrifying you out of your trance and your hands frantically grabbed it, answering the call with a quiet, “Yes?”

“Fuckin’ Hell, Riot! Been tryin’ ta call you all damn night - are ya home?” Soap’s voice was an instant comfort, your eyes pricked with what almost felt like tears. The heel of your palm dug into your right eye as you took in a deep breath. “Riot? Hey, hey - I came to see ya, can’t be cryin’ ‘cause I’ll be there soon!” He awkwardly chuckled on the line.

You rubbed your nose a little, sniffling and eyes not leaving Ghost’s body. “Bring me the biggest bottle of wine you can find. How long will you be?”

“Uh- About an hour. I’ll-uh, bring some food too.” He chuckled, you wiped more tears away. “You okay, Ri? I mean, I know you aren’t but- Fuck, ‘m not good at this, lass.”

“I’m fine, just… remember what I asked for.” You answered before ending the call. You knew it would be very easy for someone to hack the line, it would give away your position - and how vulnerable the Lieutenant was if you told Soap about him. But your position was already compromised since the US Government likely knew where you lived, and that Captain Ballard had dropped Ghost outside on your doorstep like a package.

You needed to get up and do something, you were still tipsy but that didn’t matter. He needed to be bathed, you had no idea where he was being kept so cleaning his wounds and bandaging with fresh materials would do him some good. You moved up onto your feet, grabbing your glass and the bottle of wine - placing it on the nightstand beside the bed. You then turned away towards your bathroom, tip-toeing the entire time.

The light in the bathroom made you stumble a bit, you looked over your shoulder to see that Ghost still hadn’t moved. Your head moved back and looked around your bathroom, moving to the cabinet to grab a washcloth and some antibacterial soap. You then exited the bathroom, quietly padding through the bedroom and down the hall to the living room, then the kitchen. You quickly yet quietly looked underneath your sink for that stainless steel bowl you used to bed clean - the last time you used it was when Price was shot three times on the other side of DC during an op. You had got in a car, drove him to your home since you knew the enemy would have infiltrated the hospitals by that time. It sucked because you had to carry him up six flights of stairs, and you had to treat a bite wound on his hand because he was in agony and biting it to keep down his screams.

You pulled it out, along with some antibacterial soap - you very quickly washed it with as little water as possible, since you were sure the running water might wake him. You washed your hands and rinsed the bowl and your hands quickly, then filled the bowl halfway with water. You were careful as you carried your supplies to your bedroom.

Ghost was still sprawled like a starfish, the sheet still covering half of his stomach. You opted to settle your supplies on the side of the bed closest to the door, plus your closet full of medical supplies. You poured some of the soap into the washcloth, dunked it in the lukewarm water and went to work.

Even with you slowly and throughly washing his arm, the behemoth of a man didn’t even stir. You couldn’t force yourself to look at his face, the white bandage over one of his eyes - you kept washing his body, careful of the stitches and bruising. You would have to take out his stitches today, it was dangerous to keep them in for long periods of time - even if you didn’t know when they were sewn into his skin.

Your mind kept running seven miles a minute, you could barely comprehend any of your thoughts as you glide the damp washcloth over his chest. You were staring at the white mortuary scar as you did, realizing that it had to be years old. The washcloth stopped, settling on his stomach. Your free hand gently moved to hover over the top of his sternum near his collarbone, where the two lines became one. Instead of tracing it, you just settled your hand on it, fingers splayed across the smooth and jagged skin. He felt cold.

You glanced back up to his face, seeing his eye open and staring at you. You screeched, launching backwards and accidentally off of your bed. Your head hit the floor pretty hard as you yelped, “Jesus Christ, Ghost! A warning! A warning!”

The deep voice rumbled with half a laugh, “Warning.”

You stayed on the floor for a moment, your head pounded with a hefty weight when you sat up, your hand went to the back of your head to check for blood. Thankfully, when you pulled your hand back, there was none. You then scrambled back onto the bed, your hands immediately went to his face and cradled it. You examined the large bandage covering on of his eyes, noting that you probably needed to get a smaller one if you went to the store later.

Shit. You can’t go to the store later, you had to get him out of here and fucking fast. But you had to wait for Soap - you barely had enough strength to help him down the hallway last night.

“Are you drunk?” His voice was hoarse, it sounded nothing like how he usually did.

You shrugged, gazing at his face as you felt tears prick at your eyes. “A little tipsy. Incredibly upset.”

“How much have you seen?” His hand grazed your leg again, just like it had countless times the night before.

You gazed at his scar covered chest, hand settling on his sternum again. “Honey, I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t need your pity.”

Your eyes flickered back to his face. “I know, it’s not pity. It’s empathy.”

“Gotta a mask?” He asked, moving to sit up but your hand pushed him back down - he groaned in pain.

“Yeah, in the living room. Stay down, big boy.” You moved forwards and pressed a kiss to his uninjured cheek, feeling the scratch of the scruff that was a sorry excuse for a beard. You moved to get off the bed, but his hand grazed your leg again, harder.

“We need to get…” He moved his arms back, beginning to prop himself up as you tried to get him to lay back down. He threw you a harsh glare. “We need to go. Now.”

“I know.” Your voice was soft, you knew trying to stop him was already a lost fight. You moved off of the bed, taking away the cleaning supplies and setting them on your nightstand. You moved back to your closet, yanking out a black long sleeve and cargo pants. You were quick to change, not caring if Ghost watched since he had already seen it all. As soon as you tucked your shirt into your pants, you moved to the other side of your closet to take out a worn shirt and pair of jeans that Ghost had left the last time he was here. You moved to him, hands holding the shirt as he soundlessly sat on the edge of the bed. You could tell it was hard for him to breathe, he was trying to look okay - ever the hardass about showing weakness.

“Arms up.” You ordered, he followed it. You pulled the shirt over his head, tucking it down as his arms fell to his sides, he bit his tongue to not make a sound. You then kneeled in front of him, having him slot one leg at a time into the jeans. You grabbed his arm, placing it on your shoulder as you said, “C’mon, stand up so I can get these up.”

His legs trembled from barely using them, but he still shakily stood, letting you tug the dark blue jeans up, button them and zip them up before he gracelessly sat back down on the bed, groaning as the impact lit up every nerve in his body like a firework. “They’re gonna be comin’ for us.” You turned away to your closet again, going to throw on your tactical vest. “Why didn’t we go last night?”

“‘Cause I could barely hold you up, let alone get you to my fuckin’ car.” You tugged it over your head, quickly strapping it to your chest and making sure your weapons and first aid kit were secured before looking back at Ghost. His hands were on his knees, brown eyes watching your every move like a hawk does its prey. You turned again, grabbing your thigh holster and easily clipping it into place, checking that the pistol was still locked in. “Plus, Soap’s makin’ a surprise visit, so that will help out immensely.”

His hand went up to his face and ripped off the bandage without even a noise, you frowned. He glared back at you. “Need both my eyes to shoot, Riot.”

“Soap has the secure phone, we’ll get you back to the UK so we can regroup.” You then held out a hand, bracing your feet a little as you then said, “C’mon, we need to get to the living room.”

It wasn’t a complicated feat, but he still put most of his weight on your shoulders when you walked him into the living room and let him collapse onto your thousand dollar couch. You scuttled to the floor where you treated him last night, grabbing his mask and tossing it to him. It landed perfectly in his lap, he let out a sigh of relief as he tugged it over his face. As soon as he fixed his mask so he could see through it, there was a soft knock on the door.

“Oi, Medi! You there?”

Soap.

You ran to the door, unlocking the deadbolts and ripped it open. The mohawked Scot didn’t even flinch, he held up a plastic bag that clearly had food in it. You moved out of the way, letting him into the apartment as he began to ramble, “Ya know how long I had to wait at this place? Five minutes, five minutes! I couldn’a -“ You shut the door.

“Johnny.”

Soap was halfway to your kitchen when he dropped the bag, you would’ve cared if you didn’t feel so damn tense. You watched as the Sergeant stalked towards his Lieutenant, booted feet light on the floor.

“LT?” His voice was small, he looked back to you then to him, and finally back to you. “You’ve had him this whole time?”

“No,” You murmured, grabbing your boots and shoving your feet in. “Called in a favor. Got him last night, and we need to get him far away from here, quick.”

“We can just take him to an American post,” Soap began, but you shook your head.

“My ‘friend’ is a well respected Captain and a fucking psycho. We need to get him back to the UK. Now. Call Laswell on the secure line.” You muttered, shoving the laces into the insides of your boots and going towards Ghost. You held your hands out. “‘mon big guy, let’s get going.”

He grunted in response, taking your hands and pulled himself to his feet. He let out a small groan, almost falling onto you if it wasn’t for Soap taking one of his arms.

“Lasy! Hi, uh- Quick question, how quick can you get a plane to the UK?” Soap began to speak, nervous as all hell. It took only a few minutes to get Ghost out the door, you locked it and pulled him into the elevator. You pressed the button for lower level, watching as the doors closed.

“Well- Uh, fuck, how do I put it?” Soap looked to you, leaning forwards so he could see in front of Ghost’s large torso.

You held out your free hand, Soap handed you the phone. You quickly put it to your ear. “Laswell, it’s Riot.”

“Riot, what is going on?”

“Riley is secured.” You answered, watching as the elevator doors opened to the dimly lit parking garage underneath your apartment building.

Laswell gasped a little, “What?”

“Long story. I need evac from DC, asap. We’ve got to get him back to UK now, he’s in danger.” You swallowed your fear as both you and Soap pushed forwards, the Lieutenant in between both of you sluggishly kept up. “We are in danger.”

“I can be at the airport in twenty.” She said, you could hear rustling on her end. “Copy?”

“Copy. Airport in twenty.” You answered, ending the call and shoving the phone into Ghost’s pant pocket. You then drew your gun from your vest, knowing Soap was already holding his own pistol as you two dragged on. “It’s the black SUV under that light.”

It was only four cars away, but you felt a prick of ice stab your spine. You let Ghost’s arm and weight just rest on your shoulders as you moved your arm from his back, fishing for your keys. You then reached in front of Ghost, handing them to Soap. “Get him in the car.”

“What-?”

You dropped from underneath Ghost’s arm, he almost fell over but Soap was quick to recover. You turned around, seeing men with guns that began to point at you.

“Soap, go!” Your voice bounced off the walls as you instantly switched off the safety, aiming and pulling the trigger.

Gunshots rang in your eardrums, making them ache as you down two of the soldiers, but some of them hadn’t fired rounds at you as you backed up. They moved forwards, fast towards you - you released what the guns they had in their grasps were.

Tranquilizers.

You glanced over your shoulder, seeing Soap shoving Ghost into the car and slamming the door. He raced forwards, ripping open the driver’s door before shouting, “Bonnie, let’s go!”

“Get him out of here, I’ll get them off of you!” You began to hear popping, you ducked behind a car as you kept eye contact with Soap. “I’ll be right behind you!”

“You can make it!” Soap cried, cocking his gun as a bullet whizzed past him and dug into your SUV. He ducked, you looked back to the enemy and firing off a few more shots - killing two of them. There was at least five more, dodging behind cars and shooting at your position.

You looked back to Soap. “He’s the asset here, fucking go!”

Soap let out a yell as you felt a hand come to slap over your mouth, your head pulled back into someone’s chest as something sharp plunged into your neck. You screamed loudly, hand reaching for a knife on your vest but your head began to spin. The dim lights above you began to haze, your heartbeat in your throat as you heard the screech of tires.

This is the end.

———

Copyright © 2023 lethalchiralium. All rights reserved.

[just-nico-here]

A/N: I in no way support his choices or anything he does. 2021 film Mike Faist as Riff

Disclaimer: I don't own west side story or any of the characters

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When Riff woke up that morning he felt awful, he had excruciating pain in his stomach and his head was killing him. He couldn't be sick today cause they had the rumble today against the Sharks and his boys were counting on him.

" you doin ok Dere riff?" Tony asked him as he walked in " yeah I'm fine Tony don't worry just a little tired but it's nothing ." Riff snapped, "Hey I was just asking cause ya lookin a little on the pale side." Toney explained. When it was brought up Riff felt his stomach turn and he almost cried out in pain but kept it a soft whimper, if Tony heard it he said nothing. While they were organizing what to bring and head out to go to the rumble and grabbing weapons Riff was zoned out and they all saw it, the only problem was to get him to open up to it. " Hey ya Riff ya hungry before we leave cause we ain't gotten food or stopin anywhere and i know you haven't eaten anything all day." Tony called out handing Riff a baseball bat. Riff who left and was currently hiding out in the bathroom called out " nah I'm not hungry we should get goin tho." He was trying to keep up the " I'm fine and the jets need me for the rumble" act and Tony more than anyone in the jets could see through the act he knew deep down that Riff was in pain and was sick, Riff may think that when he's sick he's weak and that no one would care about him, " Riff you in there buddy boy? We're getting ready to leave." Ice asked snapping his fingers in Riffs face, Riff slapped his hand out of his face and almost started throwing punches his fever messing with him until he realized where he was. " Riff I-." Ice was cut off with riff running back into the bathroom and throwing up in the sink. " Dear Jesus Riff, had I known you where sick I wouldn't have pushed you as much. How long have you felt this bad?" Ice asked, Baby John was in the corner with Tony worrying because he had never seen the Leader show any weakness in general. " baby John he'll be fine it's probably just a twenty four hour bug, he doesn't get sick that often you know that so it hits him pretty hard." Tony said trying to calm him down.

" Tony gotta-throws up-  find Tony. Gotta stop the rumble he's gonna-gag- get hurt if he- throws up again- goes" Riff was hysterical and he could barely get a word out with out almost throwing up " TONY RIFF NEEDS YOU!!" Action yelled watching as Riff winced at the yelling telling him he probably had a headache as well as a fever and upset stomach , as Tony left to go tend to his brother like best friend as Anybody's ran in. " what's going on where's Tony and riff??" They asked but their question was answered when Tony came out of the bathroom carrying Riff bridle style. " I'm taking him back to my place for the night he's safer with me than any of you guys his fever had made that clear." Tony said 

When they arrived at Tony's place he put Riff on his bed and put a trash can next to the bed and crawled behind Riff and started combing his hand in through his hair. " you doin ok buddy? Your sporting quite a fever there." Tony asked when he didn't get an answer he looked down and saw Riff was asleep , at least he's peacefully sleeping but the nightmares are gonna start soon, Tony thought to him self, as if right on cure Riff started thrashing and yelling out, " Riff your ok it's ok it's Tony your brother." Tony said trying to calm him down and it seemed to be working.

It went on like that for a while waking up every other hour to him throwing up or nightmares and Tony was right it was a twenty four hour bug and by the time Riff felt better it was the next day and was confused on how he got to Tony's place since the last place he remembered was being in the Jets hideout getting sick. Wondering if they won the rumble Tony told him that they had talked to the Sharks and talked them into moving it to where Riff was feeling better

Hope you guys enjoyed this one-shot

Happy reading

-Nico

[pascalpanic]

request please? lately i have been having a lot abandonment anxiety when it comes to friendships and i was wondering how you think javi or din might help someone with an anxious attachment style? thank you lovely 🥰

Irrational (Din Djarin x f!Reader)

Summary: above ^^

W/C: 2.8k

Warnings: language; talk of fighting and weapons, reader has a panic attack PLEASE be aware that it’s coming and somewhat descriptive.

A/N: I really really love this! I hope you guys do too :) as always, thanks to my beta reading babes!

Din Djarin has been abandoned before. Often on a mission, sometimes on a lone planet with no credits or ways out. He always survives, of course, and vengeance is taken. One thing he absolutely can’t fathom is abandoning someone he loves, or more specifically someone who loves him.

Abandonment isn’t an issue when you’ve never had someone to be attached to. Din spent many many years with absolutely no one. When his parents died, it felt like he was abandoned, sure, but it was clearly not their decision to leave him. When he was taken in by the Mandalorians, they kept him at an arm’s length. He was a foundling; they cared for him well, taught him The Way and The Creed, fed him well. But he was never adopted into a specific clan, rather passed around the covert like the communal task each family had an obligation to fulfill.

Then he became a bounty hunter. The life was solitary and lonely, cold and bleak. It was rare that Din would team up with other bounty hunters, really only when forced to. The Razor Crest became his baby, his only possession and love besides his blasters and beskar. The thing was a piece of bantha shit, but he kept it in good shape.

Then came the kid. Din knew it was wrong. Bounties are to be turned in and paid for, then you forget the job happened. But when that little green thing stared up at Din, the big brown eyes seeming to stare through the dark black of his visor, he knew he couldn’t. This was a child, a baby with no family and no way to protect itself. He certainly couldn’t turn it over to the hands of the ex-Imperials.

Din experienced his first real attachment with the child. He cares for that little thing more than he’s ever cared about anything. He’d cross galaxies, kill and maim and injure for the sake of the little green baby.

Oh Maker, then he met you.

Din had never seen anything like you. You were playing with the kids in the marketplace, laughing as they ran and played around you, before you squealed in delight at the sight of a little green toddler wandering up to you. He’d climbed in your lap, looked up at you with those big eyes, massive ears twitching. You’d stroked his head and cooed to him before you looked up to find his father; subsequently, you felt your heart fall into your stomach at the sight of the Mandalorian man.

“You’re good with kids.”

Well no shit. You nodded. “Yes. I love them. Is this your son?” you ask, looking back down at the three green fingers wrapped around your thumb.

He nods. “He is a foundling under my care.” He watched as the baby grabbed at the golden armband encircling your bicep. You’re absolutely gorgeous. The armband glows against your skin, your beautiful body evident even through the loose and flowing clothing you wear. “Do you take care of these children as a job?”

You shook your head. “No. We don’t have jobs here, necessarily. They just wanted me to play.” You scanned the man, searching for skin. You found none. “Are you green under there too?”

The Mandalorian did not answer. “I’m looking for a caretaker for the child while I hunt bounties. You’d stay in my ship and care for him. I pay well and you’d get to travel the galaxy.”

“You barely know me,” you laughed, removing the little green baby’s fingers from their tight grip on the gold band on your arm.

He gave a half shrug. “He likes you.”

And you’d agreed. And it’s been almost a full cycle now, a cycle of living in the beat-up ship and caring for the little green baby. You’ve seen the most beautiful and the ugliest of planets, experienced extreme heat and extreme cold. You’ve been to beautiful cities, unique jungles and forests and ice planets.

In that time, you got to know the Mandalorian too. It took quite some time to crack his beskar shell. He hardly talked to you in the first month. Then your persistence had loosened him a little, then a little more, then just enough. You know more of him than any other living being does. He’s told you his name: Din Djarin, a name that flows and stops and radiates the power of the bounty hunter. He told you the story of his childhood, of hunts gone wrong and hunts gone right.

You love listening as he tells you and the child the story of the child’s rescue from the ex-Imperials. The baby snuggles against your lap as his father regales the two of you with the epic battles, the fights Din went through for this little child. You both applaud at the end, and put the baby to bed with a kiss between those big brown eyes.

He’s a wonderful man. You’ve formed an easy friendship with him, one that has honestly progressed on your end. At night, you find yourself fantasizing about what he looks like beneath his armor, how the muscles of his broad shoulders move when he climbs the ladder to the cockpit or lifts the child. You like to think he may feel the same for you, but you don’t push it. You don’t want to push him away.

Din has been away for far too long. He always highballs the dates he gives you, saying that an assignment will take three days when he knows it will only take two or a week when it will only be five days. This is a pattern you’ve come to notice; Din is alway back “early”, but now he is late. Really late.

Before he left, Din had opened your bunk compartment, causing you to groan at the light filtering in. You’ve been sleeping since the Crest made a rocky landing on Nevarro a few hours earlier. “Cyare,” he’d murmured, a rare ungloved hand warm on your bare arm, contact broken by your metal armband. You don’t know what the word means. You hope it’s something good.

“What is it?” You groaned, rolling onto your back to look at him. “Leaving?”

He nodded, the silhouette of his helmet-covered head against the soft light of the hull. “Leaving. I’ll be back in four days at the most.”

You offered him a sleepy smile, one that he could see in the warm glow of the lights you’d installed in the ship to navigate easier at night. “Good luck. May the Force be with you,” you teased, making the normally stoic man chuckle a little.

“Go back to sleep. I’ll see you soon.”

You didn’t protest, rolling over and letting the heaviness of sleep drag you back under.

Now, you really wish you’d have talked with him more then. You’re almost certain you’ll never see him again.

You’re not exactly sure what it was in your brain that triggered the thought. Maybe Din just actually took the amount of time he’d said for once, you thought on the fourth day. But now it’s been eight days, double the amount that he’d told you he’d be gone, and you’re stressed.

He always makes good on his word. He should be back by now. He always does. Did he get injured or killed, maybe captured by the bounty he was stalking? You ponder your ideas aloud as you pace back and forth in the hull of the Razor Crest, the little green baby tucked in his soundproof pram to sleep.

There’s likely a rational explanation. You’re sure there is. Maybe the bounty jumped ship, completely threw Din off of his tracks. Maybe the bounty is more clever than anticipated and Din is working extra just to find them. There’s surely a reason, but a little nagging voice in your head says that something is wrong.

In the first few days following Din’s date to return, your primary worry is that he’s hurt or dead somewhere on this barren planet. There are many other bounty hunters here, in this haven for Guild workers. What if one of them discovered Din still has the baby? What if they were coming for you here next?

Maybe you should go look for him. Maybe he’s injured and needs your help. He could be held by another hunter, or by the ex-Imperials- you can’t even bear to think of them harming Din for taking their precious cargo back. The thought makes you squeeze the little green baby tighter to your chest, even after he gives a whine of annoyance at the pressure.

But Din would never forgive you if you put yourself in harm’s way for him. This planet is dangerous, full of bad people who will do what it takes to get their credits. Most importantly, you can’t leave this ship with the kid. Certainly people here are looking for him. Someone would spot him and you’d be in for disaster. The anxiety fills your days and even seeps into your dreams, making you sleep less and more fitfully. On the eighth day, perhaps the most terrifying idea strikes you: what if Din just... left you?

Of course, there are plenty of signs why he hasn’t. The ship is one of his rare material possessions. He’d never give up the machine that’s been a home to him for the last however many years. Weapons are part of his religion, and he only took a sparse amount with him for this hunt. His prized pulse rifle still hangs in his armory, with an abundance of whistling birds he didn’t take either.

Most importantly, you’re still here with the kid. The baby is practically Din’s son. He adores him… but what if it’s all too much? You’ve become like a little family. That may be too domestic for him. Maybe he’s sick of the responsibility, of caring for two beings when so much of his life has been solitary. Even worse, maybe he’s just sick of you.

There are plenty of rational explanations. You know it. The baby can sense your anxiety, can feel the tension running through the air surrounding you, and he feels it too. He’s fussy, requiring more snacks and more attention. He tugs far too much on your armband and it pinches now, his little claws getting too long. You don’t mind- it’s a distraction, really- but your mind is never fully on feeding the baby, rather hyper analyzing Din’s mind as you know it and hoping he’ll return.

The hours pass. Din doesn’t return. You become more and more certain that he’s abandoned you for good. He isn’t coming back, ever, because he hates you. He was nice to you as a courtesy, nothing more, only as a protector of his child. This type of family is too much for the lone-wolf style man. He can’t do it anymore. You’re on your own.

In your head, the thought of him abandoning you is too much. It weighs heavily on your self-esteem, convincing you that this is all your fault and you’ve done too much, or not enough, or something wrong in general that sent Din packing and gone. He did it because you’re annoying, because he’s sick of you.

Rational thoughts are pushed to the furthest corner of your mind. Your brain is occupied by self hatred, by terror, by a sickening buzzing feeling in your head and chest that feels like a parasite eating you from the inside out.

It’s too much. You fall to the floor, sliding your back down the metal wall. Your rear contacts the floor as the tears fall from your face, your emotions drowning out your senses. You can’t use any of your senses, just think and process the agony your brain is putting you through.

Burying your face in your hands, you finally allow the tears you’ve been holding in all week to flow. It’s a relief, the hot tears streaming down your equally hot face, blood rushing to the surface. The anxiety buzzing in your head has reached a breaking point; you’re sure the tension is boiling your brains, making it bubble and roil as the thoughts pull you down and down so far you feel you’ve fallen through the floor of the Crest and into the dry Nevarro dirt.

You nearly wail, wheezing in air only to expel it in harsh sobs as the fear wraps your body and constricts it. You’re enveloped by it, trapped in a coffin mixed with a tornado mixed with a firestorm and a hurricane.

Then it all stops. The heat is broken by something cold- beskar. You force your eyes to see and they finally perceive that Din is in front of you. Then you feel again, feel the chilled metal all over your skin as he wraps his arms around you. You smell him, his faded soap from whenever he bathed last, his sweat and the smell of the Nevarro dust. You can taste your salty tears. The last sense to come back puts you most at ease: his voice. “Talk to me, please,” Din asks of you.

You nod and try to speak, but you’re still gasping for air, your lungs unable to fill. When you slow down and make yourself breathe, you’re finally able to manage words. “Thought you were gone forever. Thought you left because of me.”

The beskar helmet tilts to the side, taking you in. You’re sure you’re a mess; eyes bloodshot, face tearstained, snot probably all over you as well. Din’s quiet for a moment. “Why would you think that?”

“You said four days. You always come back early, but you were gone for eight days.”

His chest rises and falls slowly beneath the beskar plate. “I know. I’m sorry. But why would you think I’d leave you?”

The tears return. “I don’t know, Din, I-”

“No, shh,” Din murmurs and wipes your face. “No more tears. I’m here.”

Din stands and takes you with him, his arms wrapped tight around your body to bring you to your feet. He walks you to the edge of the bunk and hands you a canteen of water to drink. You look at him and he looks back. There’s a silence and an unspoken battle between the two of you over who will break it.

Din breaks first. “I got the bounty easily. I was late because of… something else.”

Your face falls into a frown. “You took double the amount of time and didn’t tell me? Whatever this ‘something else’ is, it better be worth it.”

Din breathes in and out deeply before producing a soft fabric bag. “I didn’t leave you. I’m back. And… I got you something to show that I’ll never leave you.”

From the bag, his leather-covered hand produces something silver. Your eyes, blurry with tears, take a moment to perceive it: an armband of some silver material- oh, it’s beskar. It’s cold to the touch but you take it from him to admire it and find it is emblazoned with an insignia: a mudhorn. “The symbol of Clan Djarin,” he says gently, though he’s sure you know. It’s on his pauldron. It’s on the baby’s necklace. “We… are a family, aren’t we?”

You don’t respond; rather, you throw your arms around his neck and the tears return, but happily. “We are,” you whimper, your throat constricted by a sob. You cry into his neck, staining the fabric of his cowl and cape with your tears.

He understands they’re good tears, and so he lets them flow. His arms wrap around you and rest on your back, gently rubbing it as you cry into him. As the sobs calm, the tears end, you remain in his arms. Din holds you tight against his chest. “I’ve never made a better decision than hiring you. It was supposed to just be a babysitting job, but… I fell in love.”

Your heart stops and you pull back. “You’re in love? With me?”

Din nods. “I… yes. I am.”

A smile crosses your face, the joy emphasized by how wide your smile is in the presence of your tears. “I love you too,” you manage before your throat squeezes off your words, making you cry happily and hug him yet again.

With your face buried in his neck, you nuzzle your face in and are rewarded with a soft patch of stubbled skin beneath the tip of your nose. You can feel his throat vibrate when he speaks again. “We are a clan of three now. I promise you, I will never leave you. Don’t even entertain the thought again. Understand?”

You nod, not wanting to move your face and lose contact with this intimate spot of him, the first humanness you’ve been able to get beneath the beskar. You kiss the skin there softly. Din knows it’s your answer: understood. I love you.

-

taglist:

@remmysbounty @mishasminion360 @blo0dangel @binarydanvvers  @sleep-tight1 @apascalrascal @randomness501 @spideysimpossiblegirl @notabotiswear @pedro-pastel @sanchosammy @lv7867 @greeneyedblondie44 @hunnambabe @astoryisaloveaffair @emesispo @pedritobalmando @magikfanatic @a-court-of-feysand-and-elorcan @princess76179 @starless-eyes-remain @tacticalsparkles

[chubbyreaderwriter]

Joke Pt 2

Sirius Black X Chubby/Plus Size Reader

Imagine: Sirius really likes you but his reputation makes you think he’s using you for a joke. He has to prove his feelings for you but it goes horribly wrong.

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: none?

Part 1

Masterlist

previously

You looked him in the eyes and you sighed, “I’m sorry, I do forgive you but I don’t think we can be anything more than friends at the moment. I’ll see you around.” You turned around and walked away, wondering if you did the right thing or not. Meanwhile, Sirius was frozen in place, he admit it could’ve gone a lot worse but it wasn’t what he hoped would happen. He was glad that you forgave him but he still had to prove he was serious about you. He wanted to show you that he liked you, in fact, he was probably falling in love with you. But he wasn’t going to give up, he’d get you to fall in love with him by the end of the year...

You stared up at the ceiling of your bed, lying on your back with your hands interlocked over your stomach. It was after hours but still just a Saturday which meant you didn’t have to worry about accidentally sleeping in for class the next morning. You were lying on top of your sheets in your gryffindor-themed pyjamas, thinking about the recent events in your life. The last day or two had been unlike any other. You couldn’t believe that Sirius had humiliated you in such a way. Every time you thought about how everyone pointed and stared and laughed at you, you felt like there was a lump in your throat, feelings of dread bubbling as you realised you would have to see those people again on Monday. You could see now that Sirius might have thought it was a harmless joke, but you were sick of being the butt of the joke all the time, you were sick of being someone people thought it was okay to point and laugh at. You didn’t want to be a laughing stock.

A tap on your shoulder brought you out of your thoughts and you turned your head to see Lily’s familiar red hair falling down her face and into your view. She gave you a sympathetic smile and lightly tapped your side twice with the back of her hand, a silent request for you to move over. You complied and watched as she lay down next to you, mimicking your position, though had her head tilted to face you, “I’m really sorry (Y/N), I know he’s a prat but I thought he would at least consider your feelings. I’ll talk to him if you want? Make sure he stays away from you.” You released a deep sigh and gave Lily a small smile, she was always looking out for you, “That’s okay, you don’t need to do that. I’ll be fine.” Lily’s eyes still held a considerable amount of concern, “Are you s-”

A loud snore interrupted Lily’s next words and the two of you looked over to the bed opposite yours where a fast asleep Molly Prewett lay, open-mouthed and messy ginger locks splayed all over her pillows. You and Lily shared a look before covering your mouths to muffle your laughs as not to wake the other girl. Lily rolled onto her side to give you a quick hug, “I’ll let you go to sleep now, you need to be rested if we’re going to do all our homework tomorrow like you promised.” You mentally groaned, you’d forgotten about that. You had at least six different pieces to complete by Wednesday, but Lily liked to do it all together with you, to make sure it wasn’t late. You gave her a smile and flicked your wand to shut your curtains, muffling the noise of Molly’s snoring to help you sleep. You turned over onto your side and let out a deep breath before closing your eyes and slowly drifting to sleep.

The next day, you’d tried your best not to think about Sirius and you’d been doing well, thanks to Lily and Molly. You had all sat together with a couple other girls in your year at breakfast so your view of the marauders gang was blocked and therefore, you had no reason to think about one of them in particular. As soon as breakfast had finished, you’d been dragged away to the library to uphold your promise. You moaned and complained about all the work you had to do but one stern look from Lily shut you up as she went over the instructions for the potions homework. You hadn’t been given an opportunity to think about anything else other than work when studying with Lily. You and Molly kept trying to make excuses for why you couldn’t do the work today, but Lily reminded you both that you agreed to do this with her. You put your hands together, elbows on the table, and whined, “Come on Lily, we’ve been doing this for 3 hours straight, can we please take a break?” Molly nodded along to your begging, adding, “Yeah, my hands all cramped up from writing so much, I need twenty minutes to get back some motivation.” Lily rolled her eyes, “Fine, 15 minutes, but not a second longer.” You grinned, perking up in your seat, “Yes!”

Amidst your victory, you hadn’t noticed four gryffindor students sneaking their way into the library, desperately avoiding the librarian, and making their way over the table next to your own until they were pushing their chairs in. Their table was coincidentally located behind a large bookshelf so the librarian wouldn’t be able to see the group sitting there. You tensed up and both Molly and Lily shot you worried looks but you shook your head, silently communicating with them to say that you were fine. You heard someone clearing their throat quietly but you didn’t look up, choosing to ignore whoever it was. Lily looked over Molly’s head to see James waving her over to them. She shook her head and crossed her arms, ignoring the defeated look on Potter’s face. She turned her attention back down to the parchment paper in front of her, sorting it all out into the different subjects.

Molly leaned over to whisper in your ear, “Reckon me and you should hex their arses into next week, filthy toads.” You gave her a look of mock disappointment, “That’s not nice, toads are much better company.” Molly snorted and you giggled under your breath. Sirius heard the sound and looked over in your direction, one hand on the back of his chair and on the table to turn his torso around to gaze at you. The sound of your laughter was like music to his ears and he only wished he was the one making you laugh instead. He wished for a lot of things when it came to you actually. He wished he could hold you in his arms, he wished he could kiss you, he wished he could sweep you off your feet, he wished you had the same feelings for him as he did for you. But of course, he couldn’t make those wishes come true and was having to settle for watching you from a distance. Remus, who was sitting next to Sirius, nudged him with his shoulder, “Cut it out, you’ve been staring for ages.” Sirius reluctantly turned back around in his chair, facing James and Peter. He huffed and sulked, looking down at the table as though it was responsible for all of the wrongdoings in his life. James scoffed at his friend’s attitude, “Why are you so hooked up on this girl? You’re Sirius Black, you don’t do relationships.” Sirius only sighed in response to James’ question. It was true, he’d never felt this way about a girl before, it had scared him at first, but every time he saw you, it made him excited and it felt like there were butterflies in his stomach trying to get out. 

James and Remus shared a look with each other, if their friends was acting like this, then they knew it was serious. James pushed Peter onto his feet and told him to distract the librarian and when she saw him, she wasted no time in dragging the plump boy out by his ear, presumably to Dumbledore’s office. Sirius was oblivious as he still hadn’t taken his eyes off of you. You could feel his gaze on you and it was starting to make you feel uncomfortable, but not as much as when you saw James approaching your table. He pulled a chair up between you and Lily, resting his arms on the table, “Good morning ladies, now i believe we have to talk about the elephant in the room.” You tried not to laugh at the bored look on Molly’s face. James was unbothered by the silence and continued, turning to face you. “So, (Y/N), now that Sirius has apologised and all, what do you say you give my boy a chance huh? Don’t tell me you haven’t thought about being with the Sirius Black.” As much as you could appreciate how good of a friend James was being right now, you really wanted to punch him in the face. James flinched back and seemingly lost all his courage when he saw your face twist in anger. “I don’t care if he apologised, he embarrassed me in front of everyone. I was humiliated. How would you feel if everyone was pointing and laughing at you everywhere you went. I couldn’t even go into the common room without people whispering about me. I’m sick of being laughed at, so you go back and tell your friend that if he wants to come talk to me, then do it himself because if i hear his name come out of your mouth again, I’m going to hex you into next week.” 

James slowly nodded his head, choking out, “Message received. I’ll leave you lot to it then.” He was only too eager to head back to the others and gave Sirius a sympathy tap on the shoulder, “Yeah, I wish i could say I helped but that would be a lie, you’re welcome anyway.” Sirius visibly drooped in his chair out of defeat and Remus pulled him onto his feet by the arm, “Come on lads, we should get a move on before she comes back, I don’t feel like having my ear yanked on today.” The trio left but Sirius kept his eyes on you until you were out of sight. James and Remus stood either side of him, James put his hand on Sirius’ shoulder, “Mate, you’ve got to get over her or do something about it. You can’t just be a creep and stare at her.” Remus scoffed, “‘Cause what you do to Lily is completely different.” James went silent so Remus grabbed his friend’s attention, “Why don’t you try getting her something she likes? Think of it like a peace offering before you talk to her again.” Sirius nodded along, “Yeah alright, thanks mate.”

Earlier in the evening, you had been walking back from the Great Hall on your own, but you didn’t quite mind it that much. Sometimes it was nice to have some alone time with your thoughts. It was a bit too cold to walk outside so you headed straight for the common room, sitting on a couch, staring at the fire. You sighed as you checked your watch, deciding to wait until Lily returned from whatever she was doing to go to bed. The portrait opened and you heard soft footsteps. Out of curiousity, you turned your head to look behind you to see Sirius with something in his hand. For a brief second the two of you made eye contact and your eyes widened as you quickly turned back around to pretend like you didn’t see him. When that brilliant plan failed and you heard him walking over to you, you winced and mentally cursed yourself for not going straight upstairs. To your surprise, he didn’t sit down next to you, instead stood by your side, a little far aways as to not be too close.

He was quieter than usual, which made you look up to see his mouth open as though he wanted to say something but he couldn’t get the words out. He looked nervous and almost worried and you couldn’t believe that the man before you was actually Sirius, this was so unlike him. You furrowed your brow in concern, “Are you okay?” The worry on your face was enough to snap him out of it and he gave you a small smile, looking down at the black box he held in his hands. It was square and not overly large but not very small either and neatly tied with a dark red ribbon complete with a bow on top. He fiddled with it as he spoke, “I wanted to apologise once more about.. you know what. It was wrong of me and I hope the two of us can begin to become friends again. This is for you, I wasn’t sure what you’d like but I saw these and thought of you and so..” he paused to catch his breath and you reached your hand out to place over his, giving him a half smile, “Friends?” you said. Sirius nodded in return, handing over the box, “Friends.” Once you held the box in your hands, you started to unwrap the bow on the top of the box. Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed how he couldn’t keep still as he anticipated your reaction. Carefully, you pulled the lid off and you let out a small gasp as you looked in the box. Inside were a beautiful pair of earrings that had a gold wire wrapped around a deep red crystal. They seemed to shimmer in the reflection of the fire and you were in awe.

You put them back in the box and turned to face him once more, “I can’t accept these, it’s too much.” Sirius stepped back out of your reach in protest, “You’ve already taken them.” You rolled your eyes, gesturing towards him with the box in your hand, “Stop it, just take them back, it’s too much I mean it.” Once more, he denied your request and firmly told you, “As your friend, I insist you keep them.” You sighed in defeat and slouched down back into your seat, “Oh alright.” Sirius grinned in victory, “I’m glad you like them, so I’ll see you around then, eh (Y/L/N)?” You shook your head but were secretly smiling to yourself, “Sure thing Black.” You heard his footsteps retreating and then ascending up the stairs to the boys dormitories. Now that you were pretty much alone again, you pulled out the earrings once more to admire them, holding them in your hands and you had to urge to bring them up to hold against your chest. You’d never received such a gift before, you loved them. Maybe he really didn’t mean to hurt your feelings?

[mercurial-madhouse]

Trigger Warning: Healing is painful, but there’s so much light on the other side if we’re strong enough to walk through the dark.

My hope in sharing my story is to help anyone who reads it find peace or healing, just as I always aim with my fiction. If it feels right to you to do so, I encourage you to reblog this. It is highly personal, but I choose to share it publicly.

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

This past Sunday, I received an email responding to my desire to withdraw from a fic fest. Instead of the simple “You have been removed from the fest” that I’d been expecting through an official channel from mods to a participant, this is the response I received. Please be aware, the following is painful.

***

We've removed you from the fest and will mark you down as not being welcome to participate in future fests. We show a great deal of compassion toward our writers, which is why we send reminders, answer any and all questions, and provide extensions when requested. There's a reason why our fest has one of the highest numbers of fics of any fest/challenge in the fandom - it's because we support our participating writers and do everything possible to assist them as they complete their fics.

However, once a writer has repeatedly failed to communicate and missed both a deadline and an extended deadline, it's clear that they do not have any respect for the fest, the mods, our time, or our own unique situations, as we don't have endless extra hours to track down participants in a fic fest. Several reminders on three different platforms, an extension, and requests for writers to simply let us know if they need more time does not demonstrate a lack of compassion in any capacity. We also showed a great deal of compassion by welcoming you with open arms into the [redacted] after you insulted the fest, insulted [redacted] fics, and made writers uncomfortable last year after signing up to beta their fics, all while pretending to support and uplift writers in the fandom just as you did in your email here.

Have a great week!

- [redacted] Mods

***

This email arrived right at the end of the night, just as I was lying down to sleep. I couldn’t read it all the way through. It elicited a trauma response in me. My heart started racing, my palms were sweaty, I was shaking, I felt sick to my stomach.

I went into fight/flight/freeze/fawn mode. My first response was to freeze. In order to escape the barrage of pain bombarding me, I simply dissociated and disconnected from my body. It allowed me to sleep, but barely. I deleted the email in a desperate attempt to pretend it didn’t exist.

The pain caught up with me twenty-four hours later. I couldn’t breathe, my lungs shrunk in around my heart. My whole body locked up. I couldn’t move. I knew that if I spoke, even to say ‘hello’ to someone, I’d start crying.

The moment I was alone in my room the tears came. The pain came, bursting through me. I sobbed uncontrollably, curled into myself on my bed, begging for the pain to stop, begging for a miracle, screaming internally for relief and to understand what I’d done to deserve this because I didn’t have the air for more than broken whispers.

I fell asleep whispering ‘I need a miracle’ over and over. The mantra blocked out all the disgusting thoughts that wanted to keep swirling through my head. This is it. This is the final proof that you don’t belong here. You never have. You never will. Run away, M. It’s over. You tried, you failed. You always do. You always will.

I fell asleep out of sheer exhaustion.

Grief is intense. These are the moments where we don’t think we’ll survive what we’re feeling. My love, whoever you are, if you are reading this, hear from me. The agony passed. I needed to feel that agony, to allow it to move through me and to give myself the space to feel it. Without diving off the deep end into what hurts, I wouldn’t have been able to find the inner peace to keep healing, to start to understand.

The residual pain is still there, even as I write this post. But it no longer overwhelms my senses. And by Tuesday morning, I’d been given insight into what was happening.

I experienced a trauma response because it mirrored mistreatment I first received in childhood from family and classmates alike and continued into my adult life. In full view of others, it was acknowledged as cruel even by my mother, who struggles with her own guilt because she never stood up for me. No one did.

So I internalized the mistreatment. I must deserve it if everyone else around me is ok with me being singled out like this? At first I spoke up for myself. But in the end I stopped speaking up for myself too. I had never healed this pain and here it was, coming back around again, forcing me to face it, to heal it once and for all.

I still do not know what exactly I may have said to cause these accusations that you see in the email. **I do not and will not deny them.** Even if my words were taken in a way I did not consciously intend, to deny that I said anything that caused someone else pain is to deny my own power AND to deny that everyone’s emotions are valid and worth digging into.

I have the power to inflict pain, just as I have the power to spread and share love and joy.

Whatever I said came from a place of pain, of believing I did not belong in this community. That I am not good enough or worthy enough to be here. A series of unfortunate but necessary events when I first entered this fandom completely disintegrated my core beliefs in my abilities as a writer, something I have always kept so close to my heart, and my belief that I had a place in this fandom.

I expect, as I look into my past patterns, that what I did was try to logic why I wasn’t allowed to belong. At the time, this fest was the only subset of the fandom I knew, I was so brand new. So I looked through all the prompts in the fest. I brought a scientific method view to answering the question: “What is it about the fics people write in this fandom am I unable/incapable of doing?”

This process allowed me to generalize everything I saw that I perceived as ‘I can’t do that, this is why I don’t belong here’. Consumed in my own doubt that I could measure up and write something worth reading, I dropped from the fest last year too. If I can’t contribute writing that’s worth reading, I could at least stick with what I do best, which is helping others be their best selves. I had signed up to beta, and I chose to cling to the only grasp of belonging I had, which was through beta’ing. I ended up beta’ing four fics last year for the fest. And, of course, each of them were (and still are) incredible fics. At the time, it was further proof to me of exactly what I can’t accomplish.

In all likelihood, these generalizations, stemming from a place of pain and jealousy because I wanted to write good fics too, came out in a personal conversation with someone, which they translated as a personal attack. It is valid. Whoever you are, your emotions are valid. It does not matter how I meant whatever I said, pain is what you felt. This person did not feel comfortable sharing that pain with me, so instead they turned to others and shared. My moment of vulnerability and pain then spread more pain.

Pain only comes from pain.

The response was to shadow ban me. In fact, I was never meant to find out about any of this. The pain this person shared was simply taken at face value and that was that.

So on my end, this decision showed up in the physical world this way: Suddenly all my asks went unanswered, people I tagged to share snippets and last lines and get to know more through ‘about me’ posts or who had once talked to me through DMs simply stopped speaking to me in a way that is only noticeable to the person being ignored. I thought I was going crazy. But there it was, right in front of me: absolute proof that I wasn’t good enough to be a part of this fandom.

Is anyone else beginning to see the cycle of pain?

I expect I continued this cycle right back, because the pain turned to bitterness. I’d been doing everything I could to support every author the best way I knew how, and this was what I got? The exact opposite?

I found out about this shadow ban and actual blocking around June of this year. An ask sent in by a friend for me, inquiring why I couldn’t reblog a post that’d been sent to me by someone else, finally gave me the answer that I’d been banned for the accusations you saw above.

Horrified, hurt, and unable to comprehend any of this except to know that I support every author no matter what they write, I sent an apology to the mods, trying to end this cycle the best I could without knowing any of the details of what had happened. There was nothing more I could do.

They thanked me for the apology, though as you can see from the email, it was never accepted. I do not say that as a judgement call, but simply as a statement of what happened. Everyone is entitled to accept or not accept in their own time and their own ways.

I have been healing so much since everything that occurred last year. And the more I dig in to this cycle, the more my heart goes out to the drafters of this email, to the person I hurt with my words who then turned to share it out of context with others, and to the people who shadow banned me in connection with this situation.

We attract to us what resonates with us. Like attracts like. Which means just as I’ve attracted the greatest friends to me, I have also attracted this pain, and conversely, these mods and that person attracted me to them.

Deep down, on some level we share the same core wounds. And the person who can really understand just how painful those wounds can be is someone who feels them too.

So this is my message to the mods of the above email, to those who have shadow banned me and want nothing to do with me, and to the original person I hurt with my words:

I am sorry for my part in this pain. I am sorry for causing pain and I apologize for it. You are loved. You are enough. You are doing a fantastic job. Your feelings are valid. Your hurt is valid. I don’t know what occurred that hurt you before I entered the fandom, but after finding out from others that an email like the one you sent above is ‘Oh that’s just how they are’ tells me something else happened to hurt you before I even arrived.

Your hurt then is valid too. Allow yourself to feel it and process it. Don’t let it consume you. Don’t let that hurt and fear of it happening again or believing that that’s how everyone is push away from you people who in fact love just what you love. If someone has a different belief from yours, don’t let it invalidate what is true for you. Believing internalized lies about myself only caused me pain. And we spread and create what we believe to be true, whether we consciously realize it or not.

So here, now, is my truth:

I choose to perpetuate love. I choose to spread love. I choose to understand my pain and the pain of others, to transmute it, and to heal it, instead of passing that pain on.

I choose compassion. Compassion for myself in making these mistakes, and compassion for those who have hurt me. I do not condone the email that was sent to me. No one deserves to be treated that way. I choose to focus beneath the visceral anger and lashing out, to focus on the agony beneath the words, and stop this cycle of pain.

I choose to belong in this fandom. I choose to support every author in this fandom and ensure no one ever feels not good enough. I choose to own my past mistakes and learn from them.

I choose trust. To trust that those who I truly hope will see this, will see it. I have no expectations of responses or outcomes or reactions. My only hope is that whoever will benefit from seeing this post will see it.

This is not a matter of right or wrong, bad or good, just or unjust. It is a situation of two parties in pain, triggered by the same triggers.

Looking back on that email, I’ve come to realize that half of the pain I felt when I received it was not my own. I felt the pain of the attack, sure, but I also felt the immense pain beneath those words. And I wish I could hug you. I acknowledge your pain and I acknowledge how painful it is because I know that pain myself. I also know that this pain isn’t you and it isn’t who you are.

So I choose to remember the mods I first met around this same time last year in this same email chain. Mods who were so kind and offered advice to a brand new writer even when she sent an email that had nothing to do with the fest and was still struggling to find her place in the fandom. I choose to remember how beautiful that kindness felt. I choose to remember how I was so grateful for that kindness that I shared my gratitude for these same mods in an email with with another fandom friend at the time. I am still grateful for you.

You are so loved. You are loved for being exactly who you are. This fandom is built upon love. A shared love of five incredibly talented lads who have brought so much joy and light when each and every one of us has needed it the most. Shine your light through the dark and believe with all your heart that you are not alone. You have support. I support you. Shine on. Don’t let anyone dim it.

[mysticalrambling]

Love Eventually Wins (A.B) Part 2

(Part 1)

Andy Barber Fanfiction (Fanfiction Master List)

Warnings: Angst but eventual fluff.

Summary: dad! Andy Barber x female reader. You juggle in the hospital between your dad and your son. You haven't forgiven Andy for what he said to you but you guys talk it out in the end and it's all eventual fluff.

._._._._.

“Dad, you are going to be fine. We are all going to wait for you after the surgery.” Gently kissing your father on your head, you held back your tears because you didn’t want him to back down from his decision. You just prayed to God that this operation would be successful because you had already lost your mother to a car accident when you were four, so it was just you, Julie and your dad. You could not afford to lose another family member and you wanted Gabriel to know his grandfather when he grows up.

“Okay, sweetie. Will see you after.” He looked so pale and sickly just lying on that uncomfortable hospital bed. Silently kissing him on the forehead, the nurses took him away to the operation theatre.

When you got out of the room, your little sister immediately took you in a bone crushing hug and started sobbing uncontrollably. “It’s all going to be okay, Julie.” You tried to console her but there wasn’t much you could say to convince her when you yourself were worried.

After about half an hour, you finally got her to quiet down and then went to check up on your son in the pediatric ward. The receptionist pointed you towards a NICU ward that kept babies from the age of six months to two years and you didn’t know why he was admitted in to the hospital so you internally freaked out on the way there.

“Hi. The doctor said that Gabriel had some kind of stomach infection so they will have him on IV drips and antibiotics for two days.” Andy explained it to you as soon as you entered the room and went to your son’s crib. He was in the crib in a small hospital gown and God, you hated this sight. Touching his forehead, you realised that his temperature was higher than when it was at home.

“His fever is way too high right now.” Looking at your husband, you felt so helpless because your father and your son were sick and you didn’t know what to do.

“The doc said that it will return back to normal in no time.” Andy was observing you from the moment you entered the hospital room. Puffy eyes, rosy cheeks and a tear stained face was a completely new look for you. He wanted to be there for you but he knew that you had still not forgiven him. It was not easy to forget the things that he said, even if he didn’t mean it.

“Oh okay. I am just going to sit here with him.”

“I will bring you some coffee because you haven’t eaten since morning.”

“Non-”

“Non filtered, without sugar. I know.” He lightly kissed you on the forehead but was slightly hurt when you didn’t give him a smile like you always did. He could feel a wall separating the two of you and the only thing that he wants is to tear that wall down. Why could he not keep his mouth shut and let you talk? Everything would have been alright then.

“Hey, baby. I need you to be fine really fast, okay. Mommy needs you to get through all of this and I love you so much.” Gripping on to his little hand, you gently rest your head against the crib. The nurse came after sometime and you asked her is she could stay with Gabriel for sometime. Everything was too much for you and you just needed to vent it all out in private.

“Hi. Where is my wife?”

“She said she needed some fresh air.”

“Okay, I am just leaving the coffee here. You are going to stay with him, right?”

You were just looking at the stars and remembering the time when you spent countless college nights with Andy on the rooftop, just staring at the stars. It quickly became your thing and now you were sitting here all alone. A few tears escaped you when you remembered all the things that your husband said. It was still too much to comprehend.

“Please, don’t cry. I am truly sorry for all the things that I said.” Sitting next to you on the bench, he didn’t have the power to look you in the eyes. He was too embarrassed. It was his job to let no harm come to you but now he was the one who is causing the harm. He just wanted someone to beat the crap out of him and punish him for making you feel unworthy.

“I know you said that you didn’t mean a word of it but I know that’s not true. I know you better than you know yourself.” You looked at him from under your eyelashes and saw a look of realisation cross his face. Andy thought that he could just hide it from you because of all the things that you have been going through. He sometimes did forget that if he could easily read you then you could do the same.

“So the district attorney has been telling me that I am not doing my job properly because I am a family man now. I am too distracted on my job and the last case, the witness didn’t show up and Jacqueline just laid it out on me. She even gave my next big case to Carter and I just lost it on you. I am so sorry.”

Tears welled up in his eyes when he realised how innocent you were in this whole situation and he had no right to make you feel so bad about yourself. He didn’t dare move his face away from the stars and you knew the guilt was eating him up inside.

“Hey, look at me.” Gently placing your hands on his bearded face, you made him look at you. “I was being genuine when I said that you can take a break from us. I won’t mind.”

“No, I don’t. It was all said out in anger and you don’t know how sorry I am. Please don’t think like that because you are my whole world.” His heart was tearing up in pieces and you were the only one who could fix it.

“Okay but what about Jacqueline then?”

“I will take care of her. She can not just assume that I would be the same Andy after having my own family to look out for. You don’t worry about anything.”

“Okay.” Kissing him under the stars was your favorite pass time and you wouldn’t change it for the world. “Let’s go check up on our baby right now.”

“No, you go to your sister because your dad is going to be out of surgery in sometime and you should be with her. I will check on Gabriel and then come to you.”

“Let’s check on Gabe together because I won’t stop worrying until then. God, I just want this day to end already.” Hand in hand, you got up from the bench and went to meet your son.

Gabriel was slightly waking up by the time you entered his room and you immediately went to pick him up. Keeping in mind to not touch his iv drip, you cradled him to your chest. Your heart ached for your baby boy because he was always the one to cause trouble and never sit still in one place. “Mommy, hurts.” A whimper escaped him and he clutched on to your shirt with his tiny fists.

“It’s going to be okay.” He looked so small in your arms and you were barely holding yourself together because you didn’t want your son to cry after seeing you.

“Give him to me.” Andy carefully took him from you and tried rocking him back to sleep. By now, he was full on crying and trying to take his bandage off. Your husband took Gabriel’s hand in his hold but the kid did not quiet down for one second. You tried to give him his lion pacifier and he just turned his head the other way round. The doctor came in when he heard the commotion and quickly inserted some sedatives in to his IV drips.

He told you both that Gabriel would be alright in a few days and he will stay with him so that you both can go check up on your father. Gabriel was going to sleep for some hours so it was okay for you guys to stay with your dad until then.

“The doctor said that the surgery went well and we can see him after they transfer him to ICU.” Your sister filled you in as soon as she saw you both walking down the corridor. Ecstatic, you hugged Andy tightly and believed for the first time in all night that everything is going to be okay.

“I love you.” You whispered affectionately in to his ears.

“I love you too.” Kissing you softly, he tried to express his love with his actions.

Hope you guys enjoyed it!!

._._._._.

A/N: Here's part 2. I loved watching Defending Jacob so I came up with this plot. Andy Barber has my whole heart and I hope you guys liked it. Tell me what you think and message me if you want to be added to the tag list.

Like, comment and reblog.

Tag list: @kalopsia-flaneur, @fantasywriter104, @justile

._._._._.

[succumbtothenightmare]

Hard to Love [21/21]

Pairings: Chris Evans x Reader

Words: 1621

Warnings: this story will have mentions of abuse, mental and physical so please read at your own risk. Some swearing, angst, and a good amount of fluff. Maybe some smut if I'm feeling frisky.

Summary: After moving to a new town all on her own, Reader would do anything for a stable job and income. Even if that means housekeeping for one of Boston's eligible bachelors. What she didn't expect was finding herself falling in love with him and finding him out about the past that she was running from.

A/N: I cannot believe the ending is here. I also cannot thank you enough for all the love that you guys have gave this series. I really do appreciate it and love seeing all the comments! Your words of encouragement are what kept me going for this story. I’m so so sad it’s done. 

Lets finish this story with a happy ending! 

Tags: @kelbabyblue @patzammit @thesecretlifeofdaydreamss @jennmurawski13 @divadinag @cosmicbreathe @thevelvetseries @capstopavenger @chris-butt @denisemarieangelina @im-a-stranger-thing @jennamarieee623 @introvertedmouse @lharrietg @thejemersoninferno  @breezykpop @instantbasementtimetravel @rodgersteves @michaelscotfield-blog1 @40srogcrs @wonderingshawn @bellaireland1981 @katelyneannxo @lady-x-red @sare-bare93-blog @annmariek8​ @raabrakha​ @stxvercgersslut​

ONE YEAR LATER

“Where’s my cutie pie?!” I shouted, entering the home. 

Four feet trotted down the long hallway from the kitchen to the living room where I stood, hanging up my jacket and bag. Bending at the knees, I allowed all of the kisses and whines of happiness, scratching the furry ears. 

“How’s Dodger doing today?” I cooed. 

He followed me into the kitchen as I searched the fridge for something to ease my stomach. Munching on a piece of cheese, I checked my phone and saw a new message from Chris. 

I’ll be home in a few hours. I’m sorry baby, I didn’t think these interviews would take so long. 

Don’t be sorry! I’ll wait up for you xx. 

The last year, I had grown incredibly; putting everything that happened to me in the past, locking it away. The scars still remained on my body but I never let it affect me. Chris would always make sure he showed extra love to them, telling me that he loved the way I look. 

The first time Chris had to leave for work was a couple of months after everything and it was hard to get adjusted to sleeping in the bed alone but Dodger was the best replacement, keeping me safe every night. Chris tried to turn down movie roles but I quickly shot that down. I wouldn’t let him lose out on a possible great job because I missed him. 

I ended up seeing the live video he posted when I was missing and the amount of outpouring coming from his friends and fans also helped me heal. There were a good amount of people who at first weren’t happy that Chris was in a loving relationship but eventually, when he kept posting pictures of us on Instagram, they got used to it. 

My phone buzzed in my pocket and I saw a new message appear from Chris. 

Our weekend starts in less that two hours. I can’t wait to be alone with you. 

I smiled fondly at the message. 

The past couple weeks were filled with either him working almost every day or me continuing my schooling. We had his family and friends over a few times last week as well so we were practically begging the Gods above for some alone time. 

Which is why this weekend we had zero plans, just the two of us in our home. 

And Dodger. 

“OH COME ON!” Chris yelled at the T.V. 

A giggle erupted from my throat from my spot on the couch, my feet placed in his lap, as we watched the football game. 

Our weekend together was coming to an end, school for me and another press conference for Chris’ upcoming movie tomorrow, meant that reality was about twelve hours away. We spent the weekend in multiple different rooms of the house, our moans vibrating off the walls. 

I’ve had sex more in this weekend than I had in my entire adult life. 

Now, we were exhausted, so we decided to spend the rest of our Sunday in our lazy clothes on the couch; Chris wearing nothing but a pair of grey sweats and I ended up stealing his shirt and a pair of his boxers. 

Even though his eyes were transfixed on the game, he still made an effort to show me attention by rubbing the soles of my feet. I couldn’t stop myself from staring at this man in front of me. He let his beard grow this weekend, too lazy to shave it, which I didn’t complain one bit. The red marks on my thighs from earlier were an indication of that. His hair was short because he decided that he needed to buzz it last night; he was sick of it getting in his face. 

I marveled at the way the muscle in his jaw tightened when I rubbed my feet into his lap, purposely pressing into his soft cock. 

“If you keep that up, I’ll miss the last half of the game,” he threatened in a low voice. 

“But I’m horny!” I whined, lifting my shirt up and over my head. “Please?” 

I pinched my hard nipple between my fingers, hoping that would be enough to get him on top of me. 

It was. 

I yelped when Chris pulled my ankle towards him, his body on top of mine in seconds. His gold chain was dangling in front of my face as I looked up to him, our chest rising with heavy breaths. 

“So naughty,” he muttered against the crook of my neck. 

“Enough small talk and fuck me already, Evans,” I purred into his ear, fingernails digging into his bare back.

I couldn’t help but gnaw nervously on my bottom lip, tasting a bit of blood, while I paced the floor of our bedroom. Chris was out running errands but with the text I sent him, I knew that he would be on his way home asap. 

Can you come home please? I have to talk to you. 

My hands shook with nerves, feeling my cardigan being weighed down with the pressure that was in the pocket. I couldn’t help but worry about what Chris’ reaction would be. We never talked about this and I didn’t know if this would be what broke our relationship. 

“Y/N?” 

Hearing his voice, I made my way down the stairs and into the living room where he sat with Dodger on the couch. 

“Hey, everything alright?” He asked. 

I nodded and sat across from him. “Yeah, I think so.” 

He knew in the way my knee bounced and sucked in my bottom lip that whatever I had to talk to him about made me nervous as hell. Placing a hand on my knee, he gave me a warm smile. 

“Tell me,” he begged gently. 

Words were so foreign to me, not knowing exactly how to say it, so instead I handed him what was in my pocket. 

“I know we haven’t talked about it much but I couldn't not tell you. I mean you deserve to know. If you’re angry I understand. I’m confused too on how this happened,” I rambled. 

Chris didn’t hear a word I had spouted, his eyes trained hard on the stick in his hand with the two solid pink lines. 

“You’re pregnant?” His mouth twitched. 

I nodded and handed him my phone that held an email from the doctors office, confirming the pregnancy. Yesterday morning while Chris was out with his mom, I secretly had an appointment. 

“The doctor says I’m about six weeks,” I spoke softly. 

I was unsure of what his reaction would be, his gaze still stuck on the pregnancy test in his hand. 

Dodger knew something was different, sniffing the test in Chris’ hand. 

Finally after what felt like forever, Chris looked into my eyes and his mouth curved into a smile. 

“We’re having a baby?” 

The smile he had was a giant one, where you could almost count all of his teeth as he smiled down towards Dodger, showing him the sonogram on my phone as if Dodger could tell what he was looking at. 

The joy in his voice brought tears to my eyes. 

“You’re happy?” I asked. 

His hands snaked around my waist, pulling me into his lap. “I’m fucking ecstatic.” 

Our lips met in a rushed kiss, his hand finding its place on my stomach. His forehead rested against mine and his eyes shone with so much love that my heart leaped into my throat, knowing that his reaction was the complete opposite of what I was prepared for. 

“Stay here,” He mumbled against my lips in another kiss. 

I waited patiently as he rummaged for something in the desk of his office and he returned, hand behind his back. 

“I was saving this for when we went away next month but I don’t think I can wait.” He spoke before handing me a small box. 

A small velvet box. 

I gasped, watching him get down on one knee, and pried open the box. Inside was a gorgeous oval cut diamond on a plain gold band. The sunlight from outside had caught the ring in a warm glow of light. 

“This isn’t the most romantic idea of a proposal but I don’t want to wait any longer to ask you this. I first met you in this room when you came to work for me and in that moment I knew I wanted you; I needed you in my life. Y/N, you know I love you so fucking much. You have changed my life in so many ways and now we’re having a baby. You’re having my baby and somehow I love you even more. Y/N, will you marry me?” The tears welled in his eyes and he blew out a shaky breath. 

“Fuck yes!” I cried, hormones causing my eyes to pour tears down my cheeks. 

After he slid the ring on my finger, he picked me up with ease as he walked us towards our bedroom so we could celebrate the rest of our lives. 

I couldn’t believe how much my life had changed in two years since I first drove up to this house, nervous about what the job was that I had an interview for. I never imagined that I would face my past again, not letting it define who I was anymore. And I definitely never thought I would find someone who would love me with his whole entire heart and soul, knowing how hard to love I was. But he did; Chris vowed to me that night in hushed moans that he loved me then and forever. 

Along with the baby I was growing in my stomach; our baby. 

AND FIN!

[jortsaaaaaaart]

Three Hearts- Tendou x Reader x Ushijima

Soulmate AU- updates will be posted to https://archiveofourown.org/works/32830702/chapters/81464533

You remembered Sendai as being cold, so, so cold. The summers were short but they were also filled with many days spent exploring. You were part of a binational family. Your mother was from the United States, your father from Japan. Most of your early childhood was spent bouncing between the two countries before, finally, it was decided that the schools in Japan were much (much) better. It wasn’t too much of a culture shock. But the freedom Sendai offered was intoxicating. In Japanese culture it was perfectly acceptable to send your child out on errands, or let them visit the local park, on their own.

It was on one of these after school excursions that you ran into your future best friend. 

A humid June evening had you trailing along the bank of the local river. Cicadas and the current drowned out almost all other noise. You were debating turning back or taking a wade in the water when you saw a shock of red. There was another kid sitting by the river. One with a pretty vibrant bowl cut. However, when you got closer you realised his hair wasn't the only thing that was red.

"Uh, hey." You murmured, feeling more than a little awkward. "Are you okay?" He almost jumped out of his skin. Wide red eyes snapped towards you before hiding away.

The redhead hastily wiped at his eyes. "Y-Yeah."

"That didn't sound all that convincing." With a sigh you plopped down next to him, watching as he curled in on himself. You'd never been one to mind your own business, not even as a child. Seeing someone crying by themselves was an instant invitation for you to barge in and try to help.

"I'm fine."

"You're crying."

"No I'm not!"

"Hmm. . ." You leaned back, looking over the river. "So what's your name then? If you don't tell me I'll just have to call you cry baby."

“. . . It’s Tendou Satori.” He muttered. Tendou was eyeing you warily, like a stray dog afraid to take a treat from a stranger.

"I'm (L/N) (F/N). If you want me to leave I can, but you just looked so sad sitting here alone." You gave him the warmest smile you could before returning your attention to the water. Satori's red eyes stayed locked on you but he didn't ask you to leave. A few moments passed in silent solidarity before he spoke up.

"I'm usually alone."

"I know how you feel." You sighed.

"You do?"

"Well, yeah. I moved around so much before grade school that I don't know anyone here." You paused. "But, hey, now I know you, right?" Your smile made Tendou forget all about the tears. His cheeks flushed pink under the setting sun.

"Why are you being so nice to me?" Asked Satori, who desperately wanted to believe you were being genuine. But years of abuse had a hold on his heart.

You blinked. "Why wouldn't I be nice?"

". . . 'Cause I. . . Everyone says I'm a-"

"Ah! Look guys, it's the monster!" A group of children walked up behind the two of you. They were pointing at Satori with mocking grins. "You shouldn't get so close to him, he'll gobble you up!"

"Monster?" You glanced over at him but he was purposefully avoiding your eyes. If possible he would've liked to completely melt into the grass. Away from everything and everybody. But you weren't sinking into the ground, you were rising up. The bullies took a step back as you stomped up the embankment. "What gives you the right to call him that, huh?"

"W-What?" The ringleader stammered. "You've seen him, he's a freak! He shouldn't be allowed near us normal huma-"

He fell to the ground, clutching his cheek. Everyone's eyes were wide and glued to you. 

"Y- You just punched me!?"

"And I'll do it again!" You stared down the boy while his friends helped him to his feet. Before you could say anything else, or fight a 1 v 4, someone grabbed your hand. Tendou dragged you away while you stuck your tongue out at the still stunned bullies. 

Neither of you would ever forget that day. It was the start of a lifelong friendship, and eventually, something more.

On your first year of middle school you officially learned what soulmates were. It was assumed most parents would give you the talk before then, but the school board wanted youths to be prepared. 

"They taught us about soulmates today in class." You were both lounging around in his room reading the newest Shonen Jump. You sat next to him on the bed, trying to keep up with his reading speed.

"Yeah?" You hummed.

"When you turn 18 your soulmate's name appears on your wrist. . . But, if you're older than them you have to wait for their birthday so the marks can appear at the same time. . . And then some people don't even get a soulmate." He wasn't paying attention to the manga anymore. His eyes were fixed to the floor while his brain waged war against itself. Tendou had been sure you were his soulmate since that first night. The butterflies in his stomach still hadn't gone away and every time he looked at you he felt like a pile of mush. 

But, still, the 'I think you're my soulmate.' died on his tongue replaced with something much more depreciating. "I'm probably one of those people. Monsters don't get soulmates after all." His grin was shaky at best and you saw right through it.

"Don't call yourself that." You chided. "And of course you have a soulmate, Tori. Someone out there doesn't know how lucky they are. Soulmates with the best volleyball ball player ever. And the greatest friend ever, too." 

You flopped down, holding your wrist in front of you. "I don't know if I'm excited or nervous."

"Well, it's a good thing, isn't it? Having a soulmate? You'll have someone who belongs with you and will love you no matter what." You pouted at him and he smiled, continuing with his speech. "I can't wait till we turn eighteen. And I know you can't wait either. Even if you're being a baby now."

Tendou had your eighteenth birthday planned out for years. Step one, he'd take you to the river where you met. Step two, shower you with presents and affection. And step three, wait for your soulmate's name, his name, to appear. Step four (profit), live happily ever after. However, like many things in life, it didn't go quite as planned.

On March 21st, right after the end of your final year of junior high, your mother died. It wasn't a shock, she had been sick for months, but the pain was still unbearable. Your mother's side of the family wanted to bury her in the family plot. An old tradition from an old, rural, part of America. Your father gladly handed the responsibility off to them. 

Tendou remembered begging his parents to let him see you off at the airport. He remembered how red and puffy your eyes were, the sad smile on your face when you promised him you'd be back soon. 

But you weren't. 

Your father was in no shape to take care of you. Burying himself in his work to try and forget his loss. February came around and you had your 16th birthday in America. The first year of highschool had started without you. Tendou sent you pictures from Shiratorizawa every day, making you promise to try and get back as soon as possible.

Another February came and went. Your father was getting better and you were slowly but surely convincing him Japan was the right place for you to be. Tendou texted you every day, talking to you about his volleyball matches, his friend Ushijima, how much he missed you. 

It was your third year of highschool and finally, finally, you were heading home. You told Tendou the news as soon as you knew. He seemed even more excited than you. You knew why, even if you didn't say it. Tendou had always been the one you thought of when you imagined your soulmate. But. . . There was something else you couldn't quite put your finger on. The whole thing made you nervous, so you kept your feelings to yourself. 

Tendou stayed up all night on your birthday, hoping, praying. His eyes never left his wrist for a second and finally at 2:45 a.m. , something happened. Your name, in your sloppy, too quick, handwriting, appeared. The relief of ten years of wondering washed over him. He laughed, breathless and giddy. He immediately messaged you, sending you a picture of his wrist before a barrage of messages, most of them legible.

A minute passed by, then ten, then twenty. . .

You had to see it too, right? So why hadn't you said anything? You hadn't called, texted, or, hell, even emailed him. Tendou started to feel his heart sink with each passing moment. 

What if you were disappointed?

Tendou's breath caught in his throat and he could feel his face burn. His phone clattered to the ground as he sank down into his bed. He tried to calm himself down, he didn't know what time it was where you were. Maybe you were out celebrating your birthday or sleeping? He just needed to sleep it off and give you time to respond.

Chest tight, Tendou waited. He waited till hours turned to days and suddenly it was March and his heart was broken. He wasn't sure what was going on at this point. You two had almost never gone a day without talking. But you hadn't read any of his texts or snaps. Eventually he stopped messaging you all together.

But he hadn't given up. He knew you were flying back to Japan soon and he was determined to ask you what the hell was going on.

By mid March you had moved back into your old home. Your father had graciously gotten a moving company for you and your meager belongings. Somehow he failed to show up himself though. You didn't blame him though, he was busy and you haven't been the best company recently. Before leaving America your grandma had begun calling you the walking dead. You were barely sleeping, your eyes were puffy with designer bags hanging heavily underneath. She understood why you were feeling so down and she was empathetic, but the rest of your small town wasn't.

You thought about the timing of it all as you began to unpack. The first box, full of books and notes, was barely empty before the doorbell rang.

Tendou was standing on your doorstep. Your soulmate was standing before you, and your first thought was to shrink back and pretend you weren't home.

He rang the bell again. "(Y/N)! I know you're home! I just. . . I just want to talk okay? . . . Please?"

Tendou stepped back as the door swung open. You were holding your wrist close to your chest, looking anywhere but at him. He could see how red your eyes were, though, and thought they matched his completely.

"Why?" He muttered. One pitiful idiot to another. "Was it so fucking awful? Having my name on your wrist?"

"It wasn't. . ." You started. "Tendou, it wasn't just your name." 

[royallyprincesslilly]

Title: Rumor Has It {Epilogue}

Chris Evans x Famous Reader Uriah “Riah” Tyler

Warning: Cursing, Plot, Fluff, 

Words: 2.2k

Summary: You and Chris have been married for four years after a whirlwind romance. You are both happy and trying to navigate marriage in the public eye while balancing your successful careers. In the entertainment industry, not everything is as it seems, the flash of a camera lens impairs vision. As scandal and flashing lights put a strain on your once fairytale marriage is it possible your Hollywood marriage can stand the test of the rumor mill?

**Inspired by a video seen of Chris and his co-star Ana De Armas on their press tour for Knives Out at TIFF where she kept touching his chest and face standing about five inches apart.

NOTE: DO NOT COME FOR ME. THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION.

**Loosely Edited/Proofread**

Thank you guys for reading!!!! If you enjoyed this please LIKE, COMMENT, REBLOG. 😊❤️❤️

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

If the public ripped Chris a new asshole when the odds seemed ever not in his favor, they massacred Ana once the facts were revealed. When it came out just how low Ana had gone in her efforts to get your husband, the world turned into a colder place. The tabloids ran endless pieces on what a horrible person she was. They were relentless when it came to nitpicking not just her behavior and actions, but they even went in on her acting. You could have said you felt bad for her, but you didn’t. Not one bit.

 The support that came out for you and Chris was heartwarming. Everyone seemed to want to wrap the two of you in a cocoon of support and love. You received well-wishes from fans and supporters, and even celebs sent floral arrangements, all expressing their support for you. The narrative that was spun was the diabolical plot of Ana and jilted ex Christiano who concocted a plot that was to end with Ana getting Chris and Christiano kidnapping you. Most of the details were released to the press, though you and Chris had both tried to keep as much of it under wraps as possible. Neither one of you wanted to continue dealing with it. You just wanted to move forward and focus on better things—happier things.

 Because Christiano had broken into your home and attempted to cause harm to its residents, Chris’s actions were seen as self-defense, and Chrisnao’s death ruled an accidental result of self-defense. Though the White family were distraught once they were faced with the severity of Christiano’s actions and continued plans, they didn’t have the heart to put you through any further trauma. You’d suspected it was Christina’s doing, and a floral arrangement from her a few weeks after the incident proved your suspicions.

 You’d been friends with her first, and it was a friendship that survived the end of your relationship with Christiano. This was her way of letting it be known that her brother did wrong. A month after the incident, her statement shed light on Christiano’s mental health and revealed he’d been struggling for several years since the break-up. She made no apologies for his actions and didn’t try to make him seem like a victim. She was adamant about letting the full truth be seen. She did offer an apology to you, Chris, your families, and your children.

 For her part in the plot, her actions of physically trying to kill you, not knowing you pregnant at the time, was what sealed Ana’s fate. She was sentenced to jail, and it wasn’t entirely the sentence of a privileged woman. It was one of a criminal who showed no remorse for their actions. She was given nine years behind bars, and because she was living and working in the US on a visa rather than citizenship, after the completion of her sentence, she would be deported to Spain. 

Even film studios were distancing themselves from her at record speed. All the roles she had been considered for quickly changed their views and voiced wanting you to have the roles. It was sort of poetic to you. She hated you because you were black, and you didn’t deserve all you had, including your career and husband. In the end, she was the absolute furthest from your husband, and now everything that was hers would be yours.

 You and Chris were on a flight to Massachusetts two days after the incident. Neither of you were suspects; there was no reason for you to remain in LA, so you quietly packed up what you wanted and made arrangements to pack up the house for the foreseeable future, then went where both of you felt like you belonged. You left any details about your career plans to your manager to close. Everyone seemed to understand the want you had to step back from work and Hollywood, especially when the news was out that you were going to be parents.

 That was the only thing Chris seemed to care about. He was on a mission to keep you comfortable, happy, and taken care of. From the minute he carried you over the threshold of the home he’d built for you, it felt like a fresh start, a new beginning meant just for the five of you.

 He was there beside you every morning, patting your back as you vomited because of your morning sickness until you were four and a half months along. He was there for every single appointment. He read every book you did to prepare for the remainder of your pregnancy and life with twins. He was there preparing you lunch every afternoon, there massaging your feet and back at the end of every night. He was there to lather on the cocoa and shea butter to your growing belly. He was there to compliment every stretch mark you received because of your quickly stretching skin. He was there to kiss each of them while telling you how much he loved each and every tiger stripe, as he called them. He was even there for you when none of your clothes fit you, and he offered you all his cable-knit sweaters, hoodies, sweatpants, and button-downs.

 When your belly became so big you couldn’t see your feet; he put your shoes on for you. When you couldn’t get up without looking like a beached whale, Chris was there to carry you wherever you wanted to go. There rarely went an hour that went by where he didn’t strip you to worship your body as if you were his scripture, and he worshiped you and you alone. Not a day passed where you didn’t feel loved, desired, and protected.

 Through it all, you decided that therapy was beneficial and a powerful enough tool to bring you back together that you wanted to continue. Dr. Danquah was thrilled having the two of you as clients again and, because of your progress, saw no need for you to see her more than twice a month to keep the lines of communication and the roots of love and passion ever strong. The love you felt for Chris and the connection you felt to each other only deepened throughout your pregnancy.

 Just when you thought you couldn’t love him anymore, he did something to prove you wrong. Every day you found something more to love. If it wasn’t his fun-loving nature that was on display every time he played with Dodger, it was his outdoorsy adventurism with the way he bounded from the bed once the sun rose to drag you on another of his nature walks so he could photograph the trees or the hills. If it wasn’t his romantic side with how he prepared candlelit baths every night that posed as a prequel to dinner by candlelight and the most passionate session of lovemaking, it was his undercover, not so undercover freak antics with him wanting to christen every single room in the house and a few spots outdoors with your lovemaking. At nights when he thought you were sleeping, you heard him talking to the babies as he caressed your stomach. That was what you loved most. His sheer love, devotion, and adoration for his children and the strong protector that resided in him. he was the only one for you.

 “Push Riah.”

 “Don’t fucking tell me to push. You push!”

 Chris snorted, and you wanted to kill him. His hands rubbed your belly before he kissed your jaw from his position behind you in the tub in your bathroom.

 “I can push with you, but you have the babies in you. You have to show them the way.”

 You groaned, and it echoed in the hallowed bathroom.

 “You can do this, Uriah,” Lisa encouraged, giving your shoulder a firm squeeze.

 You looked across to your mother, who nodded, hoping to steel your nerve. Chris kissed your ear.

“Come on, dragonfly. You got this. Bring our babies into the world so we can spoil them.”

 And you can change all the poop diapers?”

 Chris snorted again. “I don’t recall making any such promise.”

 You squeezed his hand with everything you had. He groaned and hissed from the pain.

 “Ah, ah, wow. Okay, I see my error. Yes, all poop diapers that you don’t want.” You released his hand, letting him relax somewhat.

 “Use that, baby. I know it’s hard. I know it hurts, and I’m sorry.”

 “This is your fault,” you pointedly accused.

 “Yes. My fault. I take full blame. I’m sorry.”

 “You owe me so big for this, Evans.”

 He nodded, agreeing with you. that was when the pain intensified at levels that made you regret choosing a natural birth at home.

 “Oh fuckity, fuck. So big, Evans!”

 “You’re crowning. Do you want to come over here and catch your baby, dad?”

 Chris moved from behind you and got into position between your legs. His eyes widened, clearly seeing the baby’s head. The excitement around you was palpable, and it gave you a burst of energy to get the baby out. You grabbed your knees, hunkered down, and pushed because whether you were supposed to or not. Your scream was loud, and the screams of those around you picked up. They shouted to you, encouraging you to keep going and not to stop. The look on Chris's face suddenly changed, and you saw the tears in his eyes.

 “Oh my god, Riah, I can—I can see—oh baby, I can see a face. come on, Dragonfly, one more push.”

 You screeched out and fought through the intense burning you felt, and in seconds the crying of a baby echoed in the bathroom.

 “Aah, oh my god, Riah, it’s a girl. She’s here,” Chris elated as tears rolled down his cheeks.

 You smiled widely as Chris held your daughter and cut her umbilical cord before he placed her on your chest.

 “Oh my god!”

 She was perfect, with a full head of hair that was the color of Chris’s and cheeks so plump you were tempted to pinch them. You only had a moment to place a kiss on her forehead before you felt another stab of pain that made you shout again. The second midwife took the baby from you so you could focus on pushing out her sister.

 “She’s right there, Uriah. You’re doing incredible, baby,” your mother informed.

 “I’m thinking three good pushes, Uriah.  When you feel the urge, push.

 You instantly felt the urge to push and returned to your previous position and pushed as hard as you could. This push was just as painful as the first one, but you felt this push accomplished more.

 “Good push, her head is out. One more, and she’ll be out,” your first midwife said.

 The look on everyone's face was one of anxiety and excitement. The sounds of your first daughter’s cries had died down, and the only thing that could be heard in the room was your panting, screeching, and grunting.

 “Fuuuuuck!”

 You managed to push your daughter out, and her cries filled the bathroom. Soon, it was not one baby crying but both of them.

 “You did it!”

 Lisa and your mother both kissed your cheeks and forehead, happily congratulating you and telling you how well you’d done while the midwives cleaned the babies to bring them to you. When Chris came up beside you, your mothers backed away, giving you a few moments together. Chris kissed your forehead.

 “You’re incredible. You did so good, dragonfly. I’m so proud of you.” He kissed you once, then twice, and nuzzled his nose against yours.

 “I love you so much.”

 “Did someone order two perfect babies?”

 The midwives placed your daughters in your arms.

 “This is baby A; she was born first and her sister.”

 Your tears flowed freely as so much emotion filled you. Love in it’s purest form washed over you.

 “Chris. They’re beautiful.”

 “Of course they are. They look just like you,” Chris said, kissing your temple.

 A comfortable silence fell between you as you admired your newborn daughters.

 “Any decision on names?”

 You smiled and ran your thumb across the baby’s brow in your arm.

 “Yeah. How do you feel about Nova and Rae?”

 Chris’s face lit up as his smile spread so wide that you wondered if his face would split in two.

 “I love them. Nova and Rae Evans,” he uttered. You nodded and couldn’t help but choke up, seeing the emotion on his face.

 “Chasing dragonflies,” he whispered the meanings of the names you’d discussed weeks ago before his lips met yours for a tender kiss.

 With his forehead pressed to yours, he whispered again. “Rumor has it you’re going to be an amazing mom.”

 You smiled and looked at him before pressing your lips to his for a quick kiss. “Rumor has it you’re a DILF.”

 Chris laughed so loud it startled your babies, making them stir and cry. You joined in laughing with him, unable to keep your sublime happiness under wraps any longer.

 “Rumor has it you two will have siblings in record time,” Lisa said slightly above a whisper.

 Everyone in the room laughed, not knowing how true those were most likely were. You and Chris gazed at each other with longing and love in your eyes. When Chris kissed you again, this time taking his time to do it properly, completely and heartily, you knew his mother’s words would be the truest spoken.  

                                             The End!!!!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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[sleepysnk]

have fun ;)

Team Player: Chapter Nine

Pairings: Eren Jaeger x Fem!Reader

Warnings: suggestive content

Word Count: 3.6k

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter | Masterlist

Eren sat next to (Y/N) in the class they shared together. It was an early morning and the two both felt exhausted. The two planned overnight on what they were going to practice at the field, Eren had access since he was an athlete, but the two had to be quick. Campus security was strict on any students out past curfew. 

"So what time again?" Eren asked, looking over at her. 

Her eyes averted towards his. "I have class until 7, so I can go right after." she replied.

He nodded. "Sounds good.. come by my dorm and I'll give you a ball and we can practice," he said, a small smile growing on his face as his mind flashed images of the two playing catch. 

"Ugh! What if I suck? I guarantee I can barely throw a football," she said, rolling her eyes. 

He put his hand on her shoulder. "You got this! I believe in you (Y/N),"

Her cheeks grew hot from his touch and his words. Eren had an odd way of making her feel flustered. 

"I'll try my best to believe that.." she mumbled before looking up at the front of the class where Professor Ackerman stood. 

"Good morning.. today is going to be a pretty short lesson. I'll be releasing you all early today, so I hope you cooperate for this to go smoothly." he said, eyes roaming among the students. 

(Y/N) sighed, taking out her laptop to take notes. Eren did the same, he watched as she chewed her lip. For some reason, he always liked when she bit her lip, it was something he found.. attractive? 

"Eren." 

His eyes looked towards the front of the class where Professor Ackerman was staring at him. 

"U-Uh.. yes?" he asked, nodding his head. 

The stoic man sighed. "I get you think (Y/N) is cute, but please pay attention." he replied, turning back towards the board. 

Eren's face grew pink as he felt many eyes staring at him, (Y/N)'s being one of them. 

"Yeah Eren.." she whispered, giggling a bit at his cuteness. 

He rolled his eyes before elbowing her side, causing a small yelp to escape her lips. She glared at him and returned back to her notes, a wide grin appearing on his features. He just loved messing with her. 

Eren ended up zoning out while taking notes. His mind wandered to other things like football, sleep, (Y/N), wait what?

"Eren!" 

He turned his head to meet her gaze, she was putting her stuff away. "Class is over, come on," she said, slinging her backpack over her shoulder.

He blinked for a moment before putting his stuff into his bag. 30 minutes really flashed like that? 

"I barely paid attention to what he was saying.." Eren said, rubbing his tired eyes. 

She exited the classroom with him by her side. "Trust me.. I don't understand Ackerman much either. Sasha had him and almost failed his class," she replied, nudging his arm a bit. 

A smile grew onto his lips. "Yeah I guess he is…" he said, turning his head to look at her. 

There was that stare again.

His eyes wandered to the small features of her face, (Y/N) was so pretty to him. 

"Do you wanna head to your dorm? You know.. to pick up the football?" she asked, breaking his thoughts. 

"Y-Yeah! Let's go," he replied, heading towards the exit of the campus building. 

She followed him to his residence hall. Eren was walking pretty quickly, curse him and his long legs. (Y/N) slowly caught up, grabbing his arm in the process. 

"Slow down! I almost lost you there," she said, trying to catch her breath. 

Pink dusted onto his cheeks. "My bad! I'll slow down.." he muttered before opening the door to his building.

She rolled her eyes before following him down the hall to his dorm, she had only been to his dorm about once. The one time she helped him clean it. She silently prayed she wasn't this gross guy who just dirtied his room after cleaning it, that would for sure disappoint her. 

He opened it and ushered her inside, her eyes scanned the room. He still kept it neat, surprisingly.

"I should have one around here somewhere," Eren said, opening his drawer. He dug around the dresser for a moment before pulling out the football. "Here ya go!"

He tossed it to her, she caught it and eyed the ball. She hadn't touched one in a pretty long time. 

"So 7:30 right?" she said, looking at him. 

He smiled, "Yeah for sure! I'll text you when I'm on my way," he replied. 

She nodded, "Sounds good! I'll see you then. I gotta head to my next class.. so uh, I'll text you!" she said before heading towards the door. 

He waved, "See you later!" 

She made her way out of his dorm. Eren smiled to himself, (Y/N) was such a cute idiot. He couldn't get over it, the way she eyed the football made him happy, she looked so cute. 

Maybe tonight would go well… maybe, just maybe, Eren could see her as more than a friend. 

-

Eren was awoken in his dorm by his phone going off. He wasn't sure what time it was, but it was dark out. He could faintly see the lights from the campus shining into his room, lighting up the walls.

A groan escaped his mouth as he grabbed his phone, Jean was calling him for some reason. 

"Hello?" Eren said, his voice deep and groggy from sleep. 

"Finally! Dude I've called you like four times! Were you sleeping?" Jean asked over the phone. 

He rubbed his tired eyes, "Yeah I was.. what do you want though? Where are you?" he asked. He could faintly hear some background noise.

"I'm at Connie's frat right now! You should come by! This party is getting pretty lit, plus you have been laying low on partying anyway," Jean replied. 

Eren looked at the time on his phone, it read 7:00. 

He contemplated for a moment, would going out partying even be worth it? He had been kind of low on the party scene lately, it may help him feel a bit better. 

"Fine… I'll be there in 10," he replied, sitting up on his bed. 

"Sick! I'll see you then!" Jean replied before hanging up the phone with a click. 

Eren sighed, he stood up and turned on the light to his room. He put on a black zip up hoodie and some grey sweatpants, he wasn't exactly looking to impress and do much. Maybe a few shots and that's all? Plus it was a Wednesday night. 

As Eren exited his dorm, he couldn't help but feel like he was forgetting something. Did he have assignments? No. Practice? No. He wasn't exactly sure what was missing, he just shrugged it off and made his way to the frat house. 

Little did he know… he was forgetting something.

-

Eren downed his third shot that night, the burning of the alcohol went down his throat and to his stomach. He placed the glass onto the table, leaning back against the cushions of the couch. 

"You want another?" Connie asked, holding the bottle towards him. 

Eren shook his head, "Nah.. I'm good."

He felt a weight next to him, Jean was sitting next to him now. His face was lightly pink from the alcohol he consumed earlier, Jean was such a lightweight drunk. 

"So Jaeger when are you even coming back on the team? You've been benched for weeks," he asked, looking at him.

Eren sighed, "I dunno.. maybe if coach actually listened to me." he replied with a shrug. 

Jean slung his arm around his shoulder, "You got this! I think you'll be back soon," he slurred. 

Eren pushed Jean off of him, "You smell like beer dude, go somewhere else." 

He furrowed his brows, "Shut it! You seem grumpy.. did (Y/N) stop letting you hit or something?" Jean asked, crossing his arms. 

Eren's eyes grew wide at Jean's words.

Shit!

"Oh shit.. fuck! (Y/N)!" Eren yelled.

"Huh? Is everything okay Eren?" Connie asked, looking at him with furrowed brows.

He fumbled for his phone, the time read 8:20. It all hit him at once. Eren was supposed to be at the field practicing with her, it totally slipped his mind! He also noticed the missed texts and phone calls he had from her. 

(Y/N): 9 missed calls

7:02 <-(Y/N): hey i'm done with class!

7:10 <-(Y/N): uh hello? did you fall asleep?

7:19 <-(Y/N): Eren??? dude i'm at the field

7:21 <-(Y/N): dude seriously, where are you?

7:32 <-(Y/N): Eren, i'm not playing anymore. where are you??? you were supposed to be here.

7:41 <-(Y/N): wtf dude?? are you seriously ditching me?? this isn't funny Eren.

7:49 <-(Y/N): i'm giving you 15 more minutes if you're not gonna show up, i'm leaving.

8:01<-(Y/N): okay cool. ignore me, thanks for being an asshole. i thought you were cool but i guess people never change huh? don't even bother coming.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

"I gotta go, see you guys later." Eren said before rushing up the stairs out of the basement. 

Eren rushed out of the frat house, he pushed past a few people and got outside. The wind picked up as he rushed towards the campus, he couldn't go to sleep tonight knowing that he forgot. He felt so guilty, that was fucked up for him to do. 

In the distance storm clouds brewed, lightning flared in the sky lighting up the darkening clouds. Thunder boomed in the horizon as the wind began to blow around the fall leaves. 

Just what I need, a fucking storm Eren thought as he rushed to the practice fields. 

The bright lights were still on, unfortunately Eren didn't see (Y/N). He looked around the field, maybe she was in her car? 

Eren fished for his phone to call her. "Come on pick up.." he groaned, looking around the empty field. The wind blowing in his hair. 

"So.. you finally decided to show up."

He turned to see (Y/N) leaning against the small bench, her arms crossed. 

"(Y/N)! I-I'm.. I didn't mean-"

"Just save it. I don't wanna hear your excuses," she cut him off. 

Eren tried coming towards her, "I'm sorry! I didn't get your texts and everything slipped my mind!" 

She rolled her eyes, "You left me here for an hour! I genuinely thought you were a nice guy.. but I guess some people never change. Just do this all yourself." she replied, tossing the football at him. 

He watched as she began to walk away, the storm in the distance beginning to get closer. He ran towards her, grabbing her forearm. 

"(Y/N).. please don't go, there is a storm right now and I don't want you walking by yourself." he said, looking at her with concern in his eyes. 

She tried pulling away from him, "Eren just go! You clearly don't give a shit, just go back to your stupid party. I could care less.." she mumbled. 

The crash of the thunder made him look up at the sky, "(Y/N)! I'm being serious! We need to go inside, just come with me okay!?" he yelled. 

She scoffed, "Just fuck off dude! Let me go back to my dorm!" she argued back. 

Eren was beginning to get frustrated with her, "I already explained! I get what I did wasn't cool! Just stop fucking around and let's go! The dorms are so far and you'll be walking in the rain, just come with me already!" he replied. 

Droplets of water began to fall from the sky, darkening the material of Eren's clothes. Lightning flashed along the sky and thunder followed soon after, booming and rumbling making the ground slightly shake. 

"No! Just let me go back by myself, I don't need your fucking help. You're such an ass! I wish I never helped you, God, I was so dumb to even think you changed!" she yelled as the rain pelted down on them. 

He stayed silent, the rain hitting his head and making his hair wet. It soon began to fall at a quicker pace. 

"I'm leaving.." she mumbled before starting to turn away. 

Suddenly, Eren grabbed her arm and put his hand behind her head, pulling her into a kiss. At first she didn't move, then her lips suddenly began to move against his. Her arms went to his neck. 

The rain fell onto them, soaking their clothes and making the ground below them wet. The kiss they shared was raw, passionate, and it broke the tension they've been having for the past two weeks. 

"Just shut up (Y/N).." he said before pressing his lips back onto hers. 

His arms snaked around her waist, bringing her closer to his skin. She shivered a bit as the wind blew against her wet flesh. 

"E-Eren.." she said, breaking the kiss between them. Her lips puffy. 

He looked up at the sky, "Let's go.. we're gonna get sick," he said. 

He took her hand into his, her cheeks growing hot as he guided her through the wet field and towards the locker rooms. Eren had snuck a key and he always kept it on him just in case he ever needed a way back into school, he silently hoped (Y/N) wouldn't tell anyone. 

He slid the key inside of the lock and turned it a few times, he felt the click of the lock and pulled the door open so she could step inside the locker room. Nobody would be around at this hour so nobody would catch them.

(Y/N) shivered entering the locker room, both of their clothes were soaking wet; the cooler air made goosebumps form onto Eren's skin. 

"Just sit right here," Eren said, pointing at a spot in front of his locker. 

(Y/N) plopped down, the sound of her wet leggings hitting the surface of the bench. Her hair was soaking, so was her outfit, she had no idea how she was going to explain this to Sasha. 

Eren walked into the showers, his eyes scanning for the towels they kept for the players. He opened the door to the closet and grabbed two of the white ones, he hoped nobody would notice they were missing since his coach kept count of all that shit. 

The squelching of Eren's shoes made (Y/N) look up, he tossed her the towel before sitting down next to her. 

"I'm sorry again.. if you don't want to help anymore, you don't have to." he said, looking at her. 

She rubbed the material along her face and through her hair. A sigh escaping her lips before she spoke, "I'm not gonna stop helping you.. that's not who I am, but I wish I got some kind of heads up." 

Eren nodded, wiping some water off his face. "That's my fault and I'm sorry for that," he replied. 

She looked at the ground. "You're forgiven.. but Eren," she said, looking at him. 

His eyes averted towards her, his head nodding to the side. "Hm?" he asked.

She chewed the inside of her cheek. "Why did you kiss me?"

Eren let out air through his nose, he leaned against the lockers behind him. His back pressing against a lock, why did he kiss her? Was it just the heat of the moment? Did he want to release the tension they had? 

He clicked his tongue, "Being honest.. I don't know. I guess in a way.. I like you, I hate to admit it but I do," he said. 

Her eyes widened a little, Eren Jaeger liked her? She wasn't exactly upset.. she felt the same way and it was blatantly obvious at that point since she did lean into the kiss and she could feel the tension between them the last few weeks. 

"E-Eren.." she whispered. 

He looked at her, "What? I know you don't like me back," he mumbled.

She stuck out her hand to touch his face which was now dry, her fingers ran along his skin. "I do like you.." 

He froze for a second, she was never one to tell a lie and by the way she spoke he could tell she was being truthful with him. 

He turned his body to face her, their knees were now touching and tingles came from the touch. Eren's hand found its way to her cheek, he used the pad of his thumb to wipe away a few stray rain drops that laid on her skin. 

Their faces leaned into one another, their lips connecting into a kiss. 

Her hands found their way into Eren's damp brunette locks, pulling him down closer to her. Eren's hand found its way to her waist where he squeezed the flesh, some of the material of her shirt was damp and it made his hands wet. 

"I want you.." Eren whispered, his breath uneven. 

She looked into his eyes. "I want you more.." 

His hands went towards her thighs, his fingers rubbing circles on the skin; it made her jolt a bit. 

"You like that huh..?" he asked with a smirk forming on his features. 

She playfully smacked his arm. "Oh shut up," she replied, her eyes rolling. 

He smirked before moving his head to her neck, he pressed his lips against her skin; his lips were hot, almost feverish. They attacked her neck making her skin feel warm. 

A soft moan escaped her mouth feeling his tongue glide against her sweet spot, he was about to bite down when a buzzing broke him out of his thoughts. 

(Y/N) slightly groaned when she reached in her pocket for her phone. Eren leaned away and furrowed his brows, pondering as to who could be calling right now. 

"Hello?" she said, chewing her bottom lip. 

"(Y/N)!? Hello!? Dude I've been texting you for an hour! Where are you? It's storming like crazy outside and I knew you were out with Eren, is everything okay?" 

She instantly knew it was Sasha. 

She sighed, "Yeah! Yeah, I'm fine Sasha. Eren took me to his dorm, we actually got rained on. I'll be back soon," she replied, her eyes wandering towards Eren who seemed unfazed. 

She could hear Sasha chewing on food. "Okay! Have fun! I'll see you soon," she said. 

(Y/N) hung up and placed her phone down next to her leg. "Sorry about that," she said, rubbing the back of her neck. 

Eren chuckled, "You're fine.. I think we should get back anyway, I don't want the janitor to come and find us here," he replied before standing up. 

He held out his hand for her and she took it with a smile on her face, she shivered a bit since her clothes were still somewhat wet from being outside in the rain. Eren took notice of this and went to his locker.

"Hold on a sec," he said, making (Y/N) stop in her tracks. 

She nodded as she watched him unlock his locker, he grabbed what seemed to be a hoodie. It had the University colors on it. He slammed his locker before locking it up and turning towards her. 

"You should take this.. it's really cold and I don't want you getting sick," he said, holding out the fabric for her. 

Her cheeks grew hot, but she just took the sweater from him. "Thank you.." she said, holding it close to her chest. 

He smiled, "Of course! Now let me take you back to the dorms, it's the least I can do." 

She smiled before following Eren out of the locker room. 

-

The long walk back to (Y/N)'s dorm was quite fun, the two had encountered a few professors along the way and they had to hide in bathrooms to make sure they wouldn't get caught. 

It was something (Y/N) wasn't used to, she was always staying out of trouble and she was seen as a good girl most of the time. Eren found that to be quite amusing, regarding the circumstances anyway. 

He leaned against the wall that was next to her dorm door. "So uh.. tonight was something," he said, chuckling a bit.

(Y/N) giggled, "It definitely was.. but I had a lot of fun. Even if I'm freezing right now," she replied. 

Eren looked at her, "I- uh.. I hope you know I meant what I said about liking you.. I really do and I want to be more than just a friend to you," he said, his cheeks slightly pink. 

She looked at the ground before looking back up at Eren. "I meant what I said too.. I do like you, Eren."

"I mean.. by the way you moaned earlier.." he smirked. 

She smacked his arm again. "Oh shut it! I'll kick your ass, but anyway.. I do want to have something more," she said, rocking on her heels. 

Eren smiled, "Sounds good.. can I kiss you again?" he asked. 

She nodded her head before leaning into his face again, Eren put his hands onto her shoulders giving them a small squeeze before pulling away. 

"Kissing you hits different," he whispered before kissing her cheek. 

Her cheeks were hot, "You're such a dork.. goodnight Eren!" she said, putting her hand on the knob of the door. 

He chuckled, "Goodnight (Y/N)."

Eren walked back to his dorm with a giant grin on his face, he felt like he just won a game just now; but this time.. he won something special. (Y/N).

tagging: @ererokii @eremiie @erensapologist @luvrboykento @callmepromise @katsuhera @moomii-hime @flam3bird @thicmitten @daughter-of-the-stars11 @just-a-little-sad @lunamoonawatcher @sofi-yeager @ryan249057 @chayauwu @bell0214 @jaegercult

[onlyfreds]

Is It a Boy or a Girl? | Family of Four

Title: Is it a Boy or a Girl?

Summary: Time for the gender reveal.

Warning/s: Mentions of a bet, being nauseous, mentions of throwing up 

Series Masterlist

My hand flew to my mouth as I walked into the kitchen to suppress the gag that was threatening to come out.

“Fred,” I groaned, “The tea is making me puke.”

He immediately ran and covered the tea pot to stop anymore of the scent to flow into the air.

“I’m sorry.” He said, smiling sheepishly, “I forgot that the smell of it makes you throw up.”

I offered him a small smile, taking a seat, “It’s okay Freddie. We’re all new to this.”

He soon sat down as he handed me a cup of coffee.

“Are you ready to find out the gender of the twins?” I asked him, taking a small sip.

His face immediately lighted up, “Of course I am! In fact, Ginny, George and I have a small bet.”

I raised a brow at him, “Oh really?”

He smiled, “Yeah, George and I bet it’s a boy. Ginny bets that it’s a girl.”

I laughed, “Count me in then. I’m betting it’s a girl.”

“So, it’s a tie then.”

We then got ready to head to our appointment at St. Mungo’s.

After getting dressed, I stared at my image in the mirror.

My stomach had surely grown over the last four months of my pregnancy.

“You alright princess?” Fred asked, hugging me from behind while resting his chin on my shoulder.

“Yeah, it’s just. I look fat.” I said.

Fred chuckled, “You’re not fat princess. You’re pregnant with our twins. Besides, even if you were fat, I’d still love you all the same.”

I giggled, “But, I still look like a whale.”

He laughed as he spun me around and kissed me, “A very sexy whale.”

I playfully smacked him on the shoulder, “Oh, enough of your shenanigans. Let’s go before we be late for our appointment.”

We then apparated to the hospital.

--

“So, what do you bet the gender is?” The healer asked us with a small smile.

“It’s most definitely a boy.” Fred said, settling into the seat

I shook my head with a small smile, “I really have this feeling that it’s a girl.”

The healer laughed at our small debate, “Let’s find out then, shall we?”

She went through the same process, applying some gel on my stomach, and running the transducer over it.

Fred and I kept our eyes glued to the screen as I felt Fred reached over and grabbed my hand.

“Well,” The healer said as she handed us the sonograms, “Looks like the both of you were right. It’s both a boy and a girl.”

--

We headed home, not believing our luck that we were blessed with both a baby boy and a baby girl.

When we opened the door to our flat, bickering could easily be heard inside.

“Believe me George, it’s a girl.” The clear voice of Ginny was immediately recognizable.

“Nope! It’s definitely a boy Gin. Believe me, I’m always right.” Her older brother retorted.

Fred quietly laughed at his siblings, “Then why don’t you two stop your bickering and find out.”

Harry groaned as he slumped back into his seat, “Thank Merlin you’re back! These two have been at it all day.”

Angelina laughed, “Well, don’t keep us waiting any longer. That is unless you want those two to launch into another debate.”

Fred and I looked at each other before I asked, “Which of you thinks it’s a boy.”

Harry, George and Fred raised their hand.

“Aside from me, which of you thinks it’s a girl.”

Ginny and Angelina raised their hand.

I smiled, “It’s both.”

Ginny jumped up triumphantly, “I knew it! I knew it!”

She then did a little victory dance, “I told you it was a girl.”

George chuckled at his sister, “Don’t get too cheeky Gin. It’s both, so I was also right.”

“But you wouldn’t believe me when I told you it was a girl.” The two started to argue again.

Harry groaned, placing his head in his hands while Angelina stifled a laugh, “They’re at it again.”

Fred and I joined in the laughter.

My husband placed his hands in his pockets as he gave Harry a teasing look.

“Want some tea Harry? Figured it would save you from your little predicament.” He asked.

Harry stood up at his words, “Oh, yes please. Anything to get away from here.”

Fred chuckled, sneaking a small glance at me, “Let’s have it in the kitchen, don’t want my princess to get sick.”

And with that, the two of them retreated to the kitchen.

--

After a few hours, all of us had called it a day, Harry, Ginny, George and Angelina apparating back to their respective flats.

I’ve more or less had been sleeping peacefully until I woke up at around 2 am in the morning to see Fred kneeling by my side, talking to my bump.

“What are you doing Freddie?” I asked him quietly.

“Talking to the kids.” He stated casually as easy as you would say ‘Eating breakfast’.

I ran my fingers through his hair, “At 2 am in the morning?”

He chuckled quietly, placing a small kiss on my forehead, “Sorry love, I just couldn’t sleep.”

He then continued what he was doing earlier.

“Hey there you two.” He whispered loud enough for me to hear, “Your mum is awake.”

“She’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” He continued, “She is the one thing in life that I can never live without. She completes me, she makes me feel whole. And now, she’s carrying the two of you. Your mum is just the sweetest thing in the whole wide world and I have absolutely no idea what I did to deserve her.”

I smiled, trying to wipe the tears from my eyes before Fred saw. But I was a tad bit too late.

“Hey,” He said softly, pressing a gentle kiss on my lips, “why are you crying sweetheart? Something wrong?”

I sniffed, wiping the last of the tears away, “Stupid hormones.” I muttered causing him to laugh.

He delicately traced his thumb over my cheekbone, “I meant every single word sweetheart.”

He laid down next to me, placing his hand over my bump, rubbing it gently.

“Don’t give your mum a hard time okay?” He said.

He ran his fingers through my hair, “Get some rest love.”

I rested my head on his chest, getting lulled to sleep by the calming feeling of his fingers in my hair and his steady heartbeat.

𝙶𝚎𝚗𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚕 𝚃𝚊𝚐𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝:

@lumosandnoxwriting @wand3ringr0s3 @famdomhideout  @nova-darling @gaycatlord-stuff @pandaxnienke​ (If your username is crossed out, that means I can’t tag you)

𝚂𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚜  𝚃𝚊𝚐𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝:

@the-romanian-is-bae @manuosorioh  @lucymfer  @lunylovelovegood

[emmy-writes-sometimes]

line without a hook

Pairing: Tom Holland x female! reader

Summary: Tom takes care of you after a party, forcing you to realize that maybe he’s who you should have been with all this time. 

Warnings: Cheating boyfriends, alcohol

-

“Where are you going?” Tom asked drowsily, sniffling upon walking into the bathroom you two shared. The smell of your perfume wasn’t overwhelming, but it smelled a little sweeter than normal. He saw steam coming from the hair tool you were using, too, and his eyes narrowed. 

“Party. Jack’s,” you responded, looking over at him. He had just woken up from his second nap of the day. He’d gotten back from filming possibly the most action-filled movie he could ever think of, and since then he’d been mostly nocturnal. 

“Oh. Let me know if you need me to come get you, I should be awake,” he shrugged as he reached for his toothbrush. “You look great, by the way. Be safe.” You turned to him as you shut off the hair tool and smiled. Tom was always so sweet to you - always willing to pick you up from parties, always taking your call even if he was in the middle of filming. You’d only met him through Harrison, but the two of you were closer than you ever thought you’d be. He just made you so happy. And until that night, so did your boyfriend of ten months, Jack. 

It was no secret that Tom hated him, though. There was always an excuse for him to not be there for you, even when Tom was. He would be working when you needed help with something, so Tom would do it. He said he was asleep the night you called him when you got in a car accident, so Tom came to be with you instead. It was a theme, and you deserved better. But Jack was such a sweet-talker that you didn’t even recognize when he was manipulating you. So, yeah. Tom hated the guy. 

You finished up in the bathroom and exited through the door that was attached to your room, just as Tom exited toward his room. You mumbled a goodbye and got your shoes on, then called a car to take you over to Jack’s. 

Quite honestly, Tom fell asleep halfway through a cutscene in his video game. He wasn’t really all that worried about you - you always went to parties at Jack’s and you always came home, safe and sound, even if it was the next morning. But he woke with a start, feeling as his phone vibrated against where he’d laid it in his sweatshirt pocket. Your contact picture lit up the screen, causing him to squint before turning down the brightness. He just barely missed the call, enough to see on his lock screen that you’d called twice already. 

He unlocked the phone to see that you’d left him two obviously drunk texts - one that said Tommyyyy come party! and another that said Comgin hmeo son, forgot my kye!! The latter of which had been two hours ago. He sighed and tried to look at your location on the map, but it was off for some reason. He called you, again, and you answered on the third ring. 

“Hey, what’s going on?” He asked in an obviously concerned voice. His concern got worse when you didn’t answer him right away - instead he stood up in the empty living room and eyed a pair of his brother’s shoes in the corner. 

“Tommy?” You cried. He stopped dead in his tracks, worry filling his stomach. 

“Hey, it’s me, what’s wrong?” 

“He cheated on me,” you sniffled. “I walked in to his room to go to bed ‘cause there’s a surge on Uber and I didn’t want to pay that much, but I knew you were busy, but he was in there with Jessica. Fucking Jessica. Fuck, Tom, I knew he was cheating on me.” 

“Where are you now?” He asked, walking into the kitchen to find his keys. Or anyone’s keys, really. 

“I’m on the front porch.” You hiccuped. You were still drunk. Drunk enough not to react to what Jack was doing and walk out the door instead. Tom found his car keys and ran out to the parking pad, trying to fight the anger that was building up inside of him. He imagined you felt probably the same way, only a lot more heartbroken. Tom was heartbroken, but for you. For the fact that this guy had fucked up not only his chances with you, but that he’d betrayed your trust and you would never be the same way again. But he was angry as hell, too, that anyone would have the nerve to hurt you like that. 

“I’m on my way, okay?” He said as he started up the car. 

“Okay. I’ll be here.” You hiccuped again, and then slid your finger on your screen until the call hung up. The party was still going on behind you, but you couldn’t care less. You were freezing cold, first of all, in your lack of clothes. Your makeup was running all over your face. Your phone was on four percent, and you weren’t sure if you even wanted it on at all. The music was blaring in Jack’s house, or his parents’ house that he just rented from them. Everyone inside was none the wiser, or didn’t care, about what had just happened. Finally Tom’s car pulled up and you stood, wobbly on your feet, watching as he got out. 

“Jesus Christ, you’re freezing,” he said as he walked forward, pulling off his jacket and throwing it over you. He put a hand on your head to make sure you wouldn’t hit it as you got in the car, shut the door behind you, and walked to the other side. 

“Thank you,” you mumbled as he sat down, shutting his own door. The silence in the car settled for a moment before he reached his hand over to yours and took your shaking fingers. 

“Let’s get you home.” You nodded and kept holding his hand, not able to bring yourself to let go. You were over your crying for the most part, but you had a feeling you’d never forget the image of your now ex-boyfriend and his fling. You were silent for most of the drive, and then as Tom pulled back into the driveway he repeated the same motion to get you out of the car. 

“Alright. I’m gonna fix you something to eat, okay? How does breakfast sound?” You nodded a little bit, walking over to the kitchen island to sit down. He went to the fridge and got you some cold water, setting it in front of you as he started making a single cup of coffee. He handed it to you as it was done, then started to get out a pan as quietly as he could. You watched as he made you food in silence, then put the plate of eggs and bacon in front of you. 

“Why are you being so nice to me?” You asked him. 

“Because,” he shrugged. “You’re one of my best friends. You got your heart stomped on, and you need to sober up before you remember everything and get sick because of it.”

“You sound like you’re speaking from experience,” you noted. 

“I am.” He acted like it was nothing to him, but he had remembered how he felt when his ex cheated on him. He’d felt like absolute scum, like it was his fault, even though he’d done nothing but love that girl as hard as he could have. 

“I’m sorry.”

“Yeah. Wouldn’t wish it on anyone. Just eat up, alright?” You nodded and finished eating as he took your phone upstairs, partially to plug it in and partially to hide it from your sight. Even though it was on one percent, he looked at the lock screen. Your ex hadn’t even cared enough to call you about it. What the fuck, he thought? Who could do that to you? 

“You done?” He asked as he watched you push the empty plate forward. You nodded, laying your head on top of your elbows on the table. He could smell alcohol in your hair, and so could you. You were becoming increasingly aware of what happened, too, but it hadn’t quite hit you yet. Nothing had hit you yet, and you weren’t sure you wanted it to. 

“I’m probably gonna sleep on the couch tonight,” you decided as you eyed the stairs. Yeah, there was no way that was happening. The thought made Tom laugh a little bit, but he wasn’t about to let you stay alone. 

“Do you mind if I keep you company? We can have a sleepover,” he said. He moved his hand to jokingly poke yours, trying to get a smile out of you. You didn’t feel much like smiling, but you nodded. 

“I’d like that.” He smiled. 

“Alright. I’ll be back in, like, five minutes. Go get something out of the laundry so you don’t smell like alcohol.” You nodded and stood up, walking over to the laundry room. You found a pair of your underwear that was drying and one of Tom’s exceptionally long sweatshirts and threw it on, sniffling. You looked at yourself in the mirror. You looked absolutely, positively wrecked. Tom appeared behind you, probably to make sure you were okay, and he paused in the doorway with a sigh. 

“I look awful,” you sniffled. 

“You’ve been through a traumatizing experience, you’re allowed to look awful. If you did. But you don’t. You never look awful.” He tried to cheer you up, but it didn’t quite work. 

“Thank you, Thomas, but I’m drunk and I can’t even walk up the stairs, I’m not boyfriend-less, and now you’re having a sleepover with me out of pity.” He scoffed.

“So you think pity’s the reason? You really hate me that much?” You rolled your eyes and stumbled back into the living room, where Tom had pulled out the part of the couch that had a built-in ottoman, basically making it a bed. It wouldn’t be the first time you and Tom had shared a bed-like surface. 

“Where’s my phone?” You asked, not seeing it on the coffee table next to Tom’s. 

“Hiding it. I don’t want you looking every five seconds to see if that ass has said anything. If I’d have known your passcode I would have blocked him.”

“He’s just gonna come to the house, then.”

“And he’s not seeing you. I’ll come out in a hazmat suit and give him all of his stuff.” 

“Why are you being so protective of me?” You asked as Tom turned on the TV, knowing that you needed it on to sleep properly. He got into the mess of blankets beside you, moving the pillow from his bed over to your side. 

“You have to stop assuming that there’s a reason I’m doing these things. What if I’m just doing something to make you feel better? What if I’m doing these things because I think you deserve better than him but I know that you don’t get that?” You shrugged and laid your head against the pillow, realizing that it was going to be covered in mascara. 

“Maybe I don’t. Deserve better. I mean, I had to have done something to make him not want me anymore, or want someone else over me.”

“You did nothing wrong!” He insisted, moving the joystick on the video game controller until he navigated to your favorite show. “Anyone that cheats on you is just... stupid, frankly. If I had you, I would do everything in my power not to mess it up.” He sounded so casual when he said it, but you could tell he was lying. He was a fantastic actor. But one of the worst liars you’d ever met. He always had a hollow voice when he lied, and this was no exception. But you were almost asleep, half from the exhaustion of crying and half from the alcohol. 

“If I were yours, Tommy?” You said sleepily. “I would be the luckiest girl in the world.” You turned around so that your back was facing his chest, just a few inches away from touching him, and fell asleep. 

The next morning you woke up turned the other way, using his arm as a pillow, and of course there was dried drool on the pillow too. Gross. You felt ridiculously safe beside him, thinking at first it was your boyfriend. And then you realized it was tom. You realized you didn’t have a boyfriend, not anymore, at least. You pulled the comforter off of yourself upon realizing what a mess you’d made of things. Of everything. You’d maybe just ruined your friendship with Tom, too, because you’d acted like a baby who couldn’t take care of yourself. 

You stood in the mirror of your shared bathroom, looking at your makeup on the vanity before what was left of it on your face. And you hated everything. Maybe your looks were why Jack cheated. Maybe you weren’t wearing the right makeup and he thought you looked ugly. Maybe... You shook it off and started the shower. 

When you were completely cleaned off, skin irritated from rubbing, hair dripping wet, you went back into your bedroom. You checked your plugged-in phone to see that Jack hadn’t even tried to call you. Not once. Jessica had tried to DM you, though, multiple times. You just deleted the request and went on with your life. A figure appeared in the door and you wiped away the tears forming in your eyes with the sleeve of your sweatshirt. 

“Hey, I saw you slept in the den, you didn’t get sick did you?” Harrison asked as he walked through the hallway. “Because I had to clean it up last time while you were still dying and I’m not doing it again.” 

“No, I wasn’t sick,” you said quietly. Enough to where he cocked his head and noticed that you were upset.

“What happened?”

“I screwed things up. Royally. With everyone. I walked in on Jack cheating, I cried all over Tom all night, made it sound like I’m in love with him and probably confused the shit out of him, and...”

“You’ve been in love with Tom the moment you saw him. Absolutely everyone knows that. I’m sorry that Jack cheated on you, but maybe it’s a good thing. Maybe you and Tom can...” 

“He doesn’t want me like that. Trust me.”

“No, trust me. He does.” You walked toward the door and shut it in Harrison’s face, not meaning to be rude. You just needed a little bit of time to figure things out. And you thought you had time for a few seconds, until something overturned in the bathroom and Tom gave you a bit of nervous laughter. 

“How much did you hear?” You asked as your face started to heat up. 

“Almost all of it,” Tom said. “But...” 

“But nothing, Tom. I just keep screwing everything up, with everybody,” you said more to yourself than him, walking over to your bed and putting your tired face in your hands that still smelled like your shower gel. 

“You’re not screwing anything up,” he shrugged, following you into your room. “To be honest, I do like you. A lot. But I kind of resigned myself to the fact that it was never gonna happen when you started dating Jack. And then he started treating you like absolute shit and it was almost like I thought I could save you from him, or something, or make it hurt less when you got hurt. But now that we’re here... It would be a div move to ask you out or something right now, wouldn’t it?” He laughed a little bit, scratching at his hair that was all messy from the way he’d slept. 

“I like you too.” You brushed your shoulder against his, feeling a kind of spark, almost, that you’d never felt with Jack. “And you didn’t have to be there for me last night, but you were. And that says a lot more than the fact that Jack hasn’t even bothered to call and Jessica’s only tried to DM me. Could we maybe just... take things a little slow? Like, really slow? Like, friends who really like each other, until maybe I don’t cry seeing a pair of his shoes in the corner of my room like I’m about to right now?” Tom got up, picking up Jack’s pair of Nikes that were in the corner of the room beside a pair of yours. He threw them out the door before returning to you and offering an arm. You felt all of the tension and stress leave your body when it was surrounded by his, and you shut your eyes and counted until it was too long. 

“How about I get some clothes on and we can go to that breakfast place you like. I’ll even buy you a mimosa. Or two.”

“I don’t think I should drink right now, but I love the offer. Give me five minutes to dry my hair.” You laughed a little bit and stood up, watching as he left the room. Your smile didn’t fade from your face until you thought about Jack again. In fact, every time you saw Tom it was like the sunshine took over and the hills too big to climb on your own were suddenly a little bit smaller. Yeah, you thought. You could be happy with Tom. Very happy. 

[secretobsessionstuff]

Hi your fics are so good 😻😻 could you write one where Dakota had the stomach flu but he recovers but still gets wet belches after recovery so Blair rubs his belly and chest to sooth him cause he can't sleep? 💞💞

Thanks for the request! It’s short but I hope it’s okay :) 

Tonight was the first night that Dakota would attempt to eat something other than crackers and ginger ale. He was starting off slowly with a sandwich, but even that he wasn’t sure his stomach would like. He just finished a rough twenty-four hours of puking his guts up and he really didn’t feel like doing that a second time. Still, the fact that he was craving real food was probably a good sign. Blair joined him in his simple meal and later they sat on the couch until they got tired.

After dinner, Dakota found that the food was staying down without much trouble. He felt quite full and shaky, but it was a surprisingly good outcome given the hellish day before. Maye tomorrow he could have a banana with his sandwich.

They mindlessly watched tv until they got tired, and that came early for Dakota. He fell asleep on the couch with Blair curled up beside him. Blair wasn’t paying attention to the show anymore. By using Dakota as a pillow, she had her head pressed against his body and could hear the inner workings of his digestive system. Her boyfriend stayed quiet, sleeping hard, but his stomach was not so quiet. She could hear the organ working, trying to do its job properly this time. He was still recovering from the nasty stomach flu, so Blair guessed it would take some time for him to feel like himself again. It was almost unbelievable that her boyfriend only ate one measly sandwich and then announced that his belly could take no more.

The low gurgles coming from Dakota’s stomach made Blair wonder if he was sleeping peacefully. It sounded awfully uncomfortable. She didn’t want to wake him, but it was time to go to bed. Besides if Dakota woke up later on the couch, he might have a hard time falling back asleep.

Blair turned off the tv, tidied up the kitchen, and came back to her restless boyfriend. She gave him a kiss on the cheek to wake him up. “Let’s go to bed, babe.”

Dakota awoke quickly, startled by Blair. He only ever jumps awake like that when he’s in a shallow sleep. He felt heavy and full, and in no mood to get up. But the bed did sound nice. Taking Blair’s hand, he pulled himself from his comfy spot on the couch. As he became upright, he felt the air in his stomach shift just before letting out a long-wet burp.

Blair froze. “Ooh, are you alright? That didn’t sound too great.”

“Uh yeah…” Dakota rubbed his chest. “My stomach’s a little unsettled but I’ll be fine.”

The bedsheets were cold, just like they should be. Dakota and Blair both sighed as they got under the covers. Dakota wasn’t too sure about lying on his stomach like he normally would, so he opted for lying on his back. This position turned out okay because Blair draped her arm across his torso. He liked the small weight that her arm provided, like a soothing reminder that she was there. Some nights the two of them forgot that they shared a bed because they often valued their space. Well, tonight Dakota thought fuck his space, they needed cuddles. And of course, Blair agreed.

She lightly traced patterns on his arms, hoping that he could fall asleep just as quick as he had on the couch. That did not seem to be the case. He kept burping and groaning, making Blair wish she could do something. He deserved a good night’s sleep now that the virus was gone. Unfortunately, his body still felt the lasting effects.

Dakota squirmed around, trying to find a position that was comfortable. Nothing was working. Multiple times he needed to sit up and let a burp come easier. He rubbed his stomach and chest while the air in his stomach shifted.

Blair sat up with him. “Are you going to be sick again?”

“I don’t think so.” Dakota grimaced before opening his mouth and letting out a deep belch. He could feel his stomach working so hard to keep the food down because he really needed this one normal meal. Falling asleep like this sounded impossible. “Sorry for being gross…I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep until my stomach feels better.”

“Do you want me to rub it while you try to rest?”

That actually sounded like a nice plan to Dakota. He was wary about lying back down again but Blair eased him into it with gentle touching. She lay on her side and used her fingers to rub soothing circles on his belly. Occasionally he needed more pressure, so Dakota put his hand over hers and pushed harder. He guided her hand to where his stomach felt the sorest, and she started to massage the area.

Dakota was getting sleepier, but he still needed to burp. As Blair continued to rub, he found that the air came up easier and didn’t make him feel as sick. After one particularly wet belch, he quickly covered his mouth, not because he felt sick, but because he didn’t want to be disrespectful. Of course, he should have known Blair better than that.

Blair felt that pocket of air move beneath her hand, and she chuckled when Dakota sighed upon it being free. “Oh, that was a good one.”

“Yeah, it felt good too.” He grabbed Blair’s hand from his stomach and brought it up to his lips to kiss it. No matter how many times he takes her hand, he’s always shocked at how small it is compared to his own. “I really needed this. Thank you.”

“Any time,” Blair said as Dakota let her hand go. She kept her hand up by his face and played with the stubble on his chin. Then she laced her fingers through his hair and gave his head a massage “By the way, you’re not gross at all. I just spent the last day with you on the bathroom floor. You can’t scare me away that easily.”

Dakota hummed in response because he was already beginning to fall asleep. He reached for Blair. When he found her, he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her closer. “Night, night…” he mumbled.

[ask-them-bois]

Of Monsters and Matriarchs, pt 2/3

pt.1

TW: PTSD flashback, attempted mugging

TLDR: Deadscar heads for the desert. A new troll arrives.

.

Ishran cinched the strap on his bag and stood, swinging the pack onto his shoulder. He picked up his war hammer, sliding it into its holster between the bag and his back. Finally, he tied up his hair, made sure his campfire was out completely, and set out.

He’d been camped on the outskirts of the city for several nights, but now, mere hours after the meeting with Musrio and the other ancestors, it was time to leave. He made for the trackscuttler station, remembering the Decaying’s directions.

He stepped up onto the platform and looked around; the station was empty, as far as he could tell. No one was even in the ticket booth, the lights all dark. He found an old board that listed the trackscuttlers’ arrival times, but all of them were marked the same way: “Canceled.”

It was abandoned, he realized. Trackscuttlers were still a popular mode of transportation all over Alternia, and he idly wondered what would cause the station to shut down. Perhaps a better one had been built elsewhere.

Regardless, he put his curiosity aside; the inquiry of why a station was powered down was not his mission. Finally, he located a map of the tracks, in a case that stood in the middle of the station. It depicted most of the continent he was currently on, and it was easy to locate the desert; the landmass he resided on only had one, albeit a rather large one.

If Lucina wasn’t there, then he’d have to head overseas. First things first, though- he located the tracks that wound through the desert. There was only one track, and someone had scribbled over part of it in red marker.

Undeterred, Ishran followed the trail to the station he was currently at; it stood to the west of the desert, which meant he had to head east. Satisfied, he turned to survey the tracks by the station. They pointed north and south, but following the northern one would eventually take him the correct way.

A squeak of a shoe behind him was his only warning as a knifepoint was suddenly pressed to his shoulder.

“Give me everything in the bag, geezer, or I’ll gut you like an oink-beast.”

Ishran didn’t move for a moment, before he finally turned his head slightly to look over his shoulder.

Behind him, their only knife left pressed against the oliveblood’s skin, looking rather gaunt and messy, was none other than Fayroe Fallen.

The young fuchsia’s eyes were bloodshot, their undersides dark from lack of sleep. His fins were wilted, horns bare of jewelry; he’d either hidden them or sold them. He was covered in bruises and scrapes, his clothes worse for wear than ever before.

Outwardly, Ishran didn’t react at first, but his thinkpan was flashing warning lights as wailing sirens went off, unbidden memories whirling through his mind as he stared at those horns.

Pain, pain, pain- shackles, bolts embedded in his wrists, chains beating his back, dragging him like a dog, the coliseum, his hammer, smashing through skin and muscle and bone. Breaking, breaking, scars and bleeding and no rest. Beast and troll crying out, the deafening cheers as his knuckled crumpled bone like faygo cans-

The whirring, chittering, subsonic roar of the drones. His hammer screaming off of carapace, chitinous armor flying across sand, sparks from the contact and then- pain. Naught but pain, struggling to breathe, burning lungs and broken ribs and PAIN-

When he snapped back to himself, Ishran found himself knelt on the prince’s chest, the knife spinning across the floor and his hands on the kid’s throat, teeth bared. Fayroe had his arms up to shield himself, as if expecting a beating.

“I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry, please-! I didn’t mean it, please don’t kill me!” The seadweller’s wails suddenly cut through the ringing in his ears. They sounded terrified and desperate, sobs hitching in their chest.

Ishran stared down at the sniveling fuchsia, his hands lax around their neck as he tried to mentally catch up with what just happened.

“Please, I didn’t mean it- I’m j- j- just so h- hungry- I w- wasn’t going to hurt you!” Fayroe continued to babble, covering his face with his arms.

The oliveblood managed to lurch to his feet and stumble away. He leaned on the map case with one hand, his blood-pumper hammering in his chest. Adrenaline was screaming through him, the likes of which he hadn’t felt in a long time. He couldn’t breathe properly, he almost felt sick, but he managed to suck in a shaky breath.

“Who… are… you.” He spoke through clenched teeth. Behind him, the sniveling stopped abruptly.

“Wh- what?”

“You’re Enforcer’s spawn.”

“Yes?”

“What are you doing here?” He demanded, his voice shaky but even.

“I’m- I was just- I am-”

“Out with it, boy.” Ishran snapped.

“I was sleeping!” Fayroe shouted, his voice echoing around the empty station.

“… Here?”

“Yeah?”

“… Why?” Ishran wasn’t sure why he was asking. He didn’t even want to know, but the talking was making the buzzing in his skin fade. He turned to face Fayroe again, and saw the young troll had sat up, eyes huge in the gloom.

“Why do you care? Who are you?” They sniffed.

“I do not care. I am Ishran.” Deadscar stated bluntly, “Now answer my question.”

“I don’t take orders from lowbloods.”

Ishran’s brows settled low, and he turned away. “Fine.” He headed for the tracks.

“Wh- you’re leaving?”

“I have places to be.”

He heard Fayroe scramble to their feet. “Wait!”

He stopped.

“… Where… where are you going?” The fuchsia asked, trying to sound casual.

“Why should I tell you?”

“W- well- because you’re the Deadscar, aren’t you? Fath- Godric, talked about you a lot.” Oh, Ishran didn’t like that. There was a beat of silence, in which Fayroe was probably expecting a response. When that didn’t happen, he continued. “Take me with you.”

“I do not take orders from highbloods.”

“Wh- yes you do! You have to!”

“No.”

“But- but- but that’s-”

Ishran turned around to look at the descendant again. “I take orders from no one, boy, especially not the successor of the Enforcer.”

At that, Fayroe laughed bitterly, catching him off guard. “Successor? Not anymore, I’m not. Descendant, sure, but no successor.” He scuffed one foot against the platform. “… I got chased out. That’s why I was sleeping in here.”

They were interrupted as their stomach let out a feeble, yet loud gurgle, and they put their hand on their stomach. Their fins, somehow, drooped further.

“You are hungry.”

“I don’t have any money. I’ve got nothing but my hop-beast.” Fayroe huffed, shuffling his feet some more. “Godric saw to that.” Ishran looked around for said hop-beast, but Fayroe shook his head. “I left her with… erm… a friend. Or I guess, a former acquaintance, an engineer, who I made take her for a while. But she’s all I got.”

“Then we understand each other.” Ishran said, unmoved. Fayroe looked up, puzzled. “All that you see on my back is all I have anymore.”

“Oh…” An awkward pause fell. Tired of lingering, Ishran turned away again. “Wait- where are you going?” Fayroe called.

“To the desert.”

“Take me with you!”

Sighing, Ishran turned back once more. “Why?”

“I… I can be useful! I’m good at this survival stuff- I’ve lasted this long! It’s been…” They quickly ticked on their fingers, “Five weeks? Six?” They frowned, before looking back up. “Regardless, I can rough it, same as you, but I’m not… as good. Teach me, please! I’ll listen to everything you say, I’ll be helpful, I’ll-”

Ishran wasn’t really listening past that, memories once more overwhelming him. For a moment, he didn’t see a fuchsiablood, but a lime, standing before him and demanding to be taught how to use a bow. He’d been alone on the road for so long- his blood-pumper twinged with the thought of being on the move again with Amadri.

“- and, okay, I don’t know how to start a fire, or cook, or clean, but I’m willing to learn! I just don’t want to be alone anymore...” Fayroe’s words cut through the fog again, and the vision of Amadri was gone. “And I swear I won’t-”

“Fine.” Ishran said, making the younger troll stop.

“Huh?”

“You may join me. But you are to listen to my every order. You may be fuchsia, but I am your elder. You will not speak down to me, and I will not punish you for the sins of your father.”

Fayroe blinked at him, before they grinned, nodding enthusiastically. “Okay! Yes! You’ve got it, Deadscar!”

Ishran nodded once, and turned away for the final time. “Come, then.”

“Wh- now?”

“Yes, now.”

He kept walking, hopping down from the platform and following the tracks. Behind him, he heard Fayroe scoop up their knife and run after him. “Thank you, thank you, oh you won’t regret this, I swear!”

Ishran only grunted.

“So where are we going?”

“The desert.”

“Yeah, I know. Why, though?”

“To find someone.”

“Oh. Who?”

“A woman.”

Fayroe sighed, giving up on making conversation. He trailed after Ishran, pouting in silence, as they followed the tracks. . . . Regret, regret, regret- Irritation buzzed under Ishran’s skin like stinging wasps. It’d been just over a week- nine nights, to be exact- since he’d set out with Fayroe in tow. It’d taken a bit of rearranging on Ishran’s part, and a stop in a town to pick up extra supplies, but they were managing well enough. The oliveblood had even been nice enough to get Fayroe his own sleeping cocoon. His tent was really only meant for one, but Fayroe was small enough that they could squeeze in it together to sleep.

They woke before the sun had fully set each night, ate, and set out, stopping for only fifteen minutes every four hours for water and a small snack. When dawn approached, Ishran found a place to set up camp. They had dinner, then went to bed.

All of that would have been fine, had he had Amadri with him. But-

Ishran was not a religious man, yet he was just about ready to pray for mercy. Fayroe did not. Stop. Talking. Perhaps it was because he’d been alone for so long, but what was usually blissful silence was filled with chatter about anything. By the end of the third night, Ishran knew Fayroe’s life story, albeit unwillingly and without any prompting.

The complaining, too, grated on his nerves like sandpaper on stone.

“My feet hurt.” Fayroe had whined, three hours into their journey on the first night.

“They will toughen.”

“Can we take a break?” Was asked the second night, after they’d just set out.

“No.”

“I’m thirsty!” was announced mere minutes later.

“Now is not a time for drinking.”

And “How much farther do we have to go?” was a constantly repeated question.

“Far.” was the constantly repeated response.

Over and over, on and on. Ishran was ready to stuff wax into his ears to make it stop; he longed to have his matesprit with him instead- at least her voice was soothing, and not the snotty, whining drivel. When they made camp, he gave Fayroe tasks that either sent him away or forced him to stop talking, just for a reprieve.

On the sixth night, still following the tracks, they made it to the desert. Ishran filled their canteens and refreshed their rations at an outpost before they’d proceeded.

The desert was made up of rust red sand dunes, towering higher than ocean waves in storms.

It took them half an hour to make it over the first dune, before Ishran had an idea and turned around.

Returning to the outpost, he rented a pair of scaly-hoofs; draconic hoof-beasts used for crossing the desert. On the creatures’ backs, they made it over the dunes with ease. The dunes eventually faded behind them, until they were crossing miles of sandy plains.

For the next few nights, they saw little around them, even as they continued to follow the tracks. There was sparse vegetation, and an occasional covered well where they could refill their drinks. An abandoned shack or two where they could camp. Wild lusii avoided them, and Ishran only ever saw them at a distance.

On the ninth night, though, Ishran urged his beast to a stop before a sign.

“Turn back! Forbidden land!” was scrawled on a sheet of metal in curly writing.

Fayroe came to a stop beside him, examining the sign, too.

“What now?” He asked, pulling down his scarf; he’d wrapped it around his face to keep the sand out of his gills and mouth.

“We keep going.”

“But it says-”

“I can read. But we keep going.”

Ishran snapped the reins, and his beast carried on.

The further they went, the more signs they saw, all in the same writing.

“Danger!”

“Turn back!”

“Cursed land ahead!”

“Monsters roam beyond!”

“Unholy beasts dwell yonder!”

Ishran ignored them all, until, at last, they crested a hill and came to stop at the sight before them.

Bleached white by the sun, the teeth gleaming in the moonlight, was a massive, monstrous skeleton. Beyond it, just visible on the horizon, was the twisted and warped remains of a crashed and abandoned trackscuttler, laid across the tracks.

“What the fuck is that?” Fayroe exclaimed as he rode up beside Ishran.

“A beast’s bones.” He replied, before he suddenly remembered the Decaying’s words:

“No water but the sapphire eye, guarding to the metal serpent. Beast of thirst, watching beast of slake, guarded by beast of bone. … Follow the screaming serpent’s trail, into the red, and find the corpse of lifeless gods.”

Ishran looked towards the trackscuttler again; from the distance, it was faint, but he could make out the gleam of water. A lake, if he were to guess. An oasis.

“A beast of bone.” He corrected himself, “We are close.”

“We are?” Fayroe repeated, surprised. “Oh, good.”

Ishran urged his beast into motion again, and they descended the hill, approaching the skeleton.

It truly was massive; one of the beast’s claws was four times the size of Ishran himself. He couldn’t be sure what it used to be, but it had a gnarled muzzle full of monstrous teeth, and he counted four eye sockets. Twisted and curled horns protruded from the skull, piercing the sky. To walk from the skull to tail would take a half an hour, at least.

As they were by the skull, though, Ishran stopped again. He looked around at their surroundings; nothing moved, not even the wind. He could see what looked like an outcrop of cliffs and rocks to the south. Looking up, he saw the moons were nearing their peak.

“We’ll stop here.” He decided.

“Already?” Fayroe asked.

“Yes.” Ishran turned and dismounted.

Fayroe had learned by then that he wouldn’t get a lot of explanations for much, so he dismounted, too. They put the tent up in silence, up against the jaw of the skull. After a moment’s deliberation, despite being out in the open, Ishran decided to start a fire.

“What if something sees it?” Fayroe asked uncertainly.

“That’s the idea.” Ishran grunted as he got a meal together and passed the seadweller a canteen. Fayroe had been rather selfish with the water, insisting he needed more due to his aquatic nature. Ishran wasn’t totally sure if that was true, but he was willing to give up a portion of his share if it stopped the whining.

Once camp was set up, they’d eaten, and the beasts were given their due of food and water, Ishran sat down, using the beast’s saddle as a chair on the ground. He pulled his dagger out of his boot, and dug in his bag, pulling out a half-carved figurine of a moth.

He set to work carving, flicking the scraps into the fire.

Fayroe sat on his own saddle, chin in hand, as his knee bounced impatiently.

“Whatcha making?” He asked, just to say something.

“A gift.”

“For who?”

“My partner.”

“You have a partner?”

“Yes.”

“What- what’re they like?”

Ishran paused and looked up, raising an eyebrow. “Why do you care?”

“I dunno. Are they the woman we’re here for?”

“No. She is visiting her morail.”

“Oh.”

Ishran had to resist the urge to roll his eyes. He resumed his work in silence.

“I’m bored.” Fayroe announced after two minutes.

“Then find something to do.”

“Like what? We’re in a desert! It’s not like there’s a filmhive out here.”

“Count the teeth in the skull. Go hunting. Brush the sand off the beasts. Take a nap.” Ishran listed without looking up.

Fayroe didn’t want to do any of that. After another minute of silence, they spoke again. “Why are we even stopped? We could keep going, you know.”

“We are where we need to be.”

“But there’s nothing out here!” Fayroe pouted.

“That’s enough!” Ishran finally snapped, setting his knife down and looking up. “I am aware there is nothing, but this is the spot I have been seeking.” He explained, ill-tempered, “Now is as good a time as any to rest, for I do not know what comes next. The beasts are tired, I am tired, and I am working out what to do. But there is no point running ourselves to exhaustion without direction, nor is there a point to whining! If you are bored, make yourself productive!” He snarled the last part, “You do not know what is out here, and our voices will attract unwanted attention. Do you wish to fight wild animals? You can’t even skin a dirt-spud!”

“But the fire would-” Fayroe began meekly.

“Would deter animals unused to the light, but be a beacon, perhaps, to the woman I am looking for! You have no thoughts other than those for yourself, boy, and I am sick of it! I did not force you to come, and if you are going to continue to stay, then you will hold your tongue and wait, same as I am!”

Fayroe had shrunk back so far he’d nearly fallen off his seat. Slowly, he scowled, and sat back up. He dropped his gaze, glowering at his shoes. “You sound like him.” He muttered lowly, ““Sit down and shut up, Fayroe. You don’t understand anything, Fayroe. I’m having you fucking tortured for your own good, Fayroe.””

“Perhaps that is because you never stop talking.” Ishran grouched without meaning to.

“Maybe that’s because I’ve never had someone to talk to!” Fayroe snapped back, just barely managing to keep their voice down.

Ishran opened his mouth, before Fayroe suddenly sat up and twisted to stare into the darkness towards the distant cliff outcrop.

Slowly, they got to their feet, eyes trained towards the south. Ishran paused, too, caught off guard by their sudden change in behavior. Neither of them moved for several seconds.

“Boy, what-”

“Sshh!” Fayroe flapped a hand at him, fin-fronds flaring wide as they leaned forward. “Okay, okay, I’m sorry, but- do you hear that?”

Ishran paused again and listened, but no sounds other than the fire and the huffing of the beasts came to him. “What do you hear?” He asked.

Fayroe frowned, squinting towards the outcrop. “It’s like… a growl? But constant. A roar? It- look!” He suddenly pointed towards the cliffs.

Ishran fished a pair of farsight-goggles out of his bag and stepped up beside Fayroe, raising them to his eyes. At first, he saw nothing, until he saw the dust plume.

Following it with his eyes, he saw… something, racing towards them. It was dark, and hard to make out, even with the goggles, due to the distance. Whatever it was, it was making a beeline for their camp.

Ishran lowered the goggles.

“Sit down, boy.”

“Wh- shouldn’t we run?”

“No. We will wait for it to come to us.” Ishran returned to his seat, slipping the goggles into his bag.

Fayroe hesitated, but slowly took a seat again.

“What if it’s an enemy?”

“Then it will be dealt with.”

Ishran calmly picked up his dagger and block of wood again, and resumed his work, while Fayroe watched the thing approach.

“Do you have a gun?” He asked after a moment.

“No.”

“Crossbow?”

“I do not use long range weapons.”

“Oh…”

Finally, after fifteen minutes, Ishran could hear the rumbling, too. He decided to break camp and pack up, before he picked up his hammer, bags resting at his feet. Five minutes more, and he got to his feet as the thing roared up to the camp, only to come to a sudden stop.

Now that it was close, Ishran could see the noise had come from an all-terrain buggy, its driver bent low over the handlebars.

The driver in question slowly sat up, pulling goggles up off its eyes.

“Who are ye?” It demanded, dismounting its vehicle, “Thou be on accursed lands and must make leave, posthaste!”

“We could ask you the same thing, weirdo.” Fayroe said haughtily, his hand going for the knife on his belt.

“Stand down, boy.” Ishran ordered. He lowered his hammer himself, squinting at the jadeblood. “What’s your name?” He asked, voice carefully neutral.

The jade looked at him, tiny fins twitching. “Mine compatriots called me Cyber, but mine name be Alaric Evrren.” With a flourish of its hand, it bowed low to the oliveblood.

Outwardly, Ishran’s expression did not change. “Do you know a woman named Lucina?”

Alaric stood back up, brushing its hair back with a flick of its wrist. “Aye, be ye seekers of my ancestor?”

“Yes.”

“What for?”

“We were sent by her husband.”

“We were?” Fayroe asked, surprised.

Both midbloods ignored him.

“Oh, thou speaketh of the great captain? Mine forefather, Faslet?” Alaric nodded slowly, eyes scanning over the two of them. It drew its tongue over its fangs thoughtfully, before it nodded and turned away. “Upon thine word, I trust thou. Follow, and I shall shepherd ye to Lucina.” It mounted its buggy again, slipping its goggles down over its eyes.

Ishran nodded and turned, heading for the scaly-hoofs.

“It’s a funny little weirdo, isn’t it? What does it mean?” Fayroe asked quietly as they sidled up to Ishran.

“They will take us to Lucina.”

“Yeah… who is that?”

“The woman I am seeking.”

“Oh. Okay.”

Once the beasts were saddled, the fire kicked out, and Ishran and Fayroe on their mounts, Alaric revved their buggy to life. It waved and shouted something, before it was off, tearing across the sand.

Ishran and Fayroe snapped the reins and gave chase.

The beasts managed to keep up with the buggy as they made for the cliff outcrop in the distance, the roar of the buggy’s engine drowning the night in noise.

Finally, Alaric swerved to a stop before the cliffs, and the other two slowed their mounts.

Cutting the engine, Alaric leaned on the handlebars and pointed. They’d come to a stop before a yawning cavern opening, one that looked troll-made. It was into the dark cave that the jadeblood pointed.

“Mine foremother lies within.”

Ishran nodded. “Boy,” He addressed Fayroe, “set up camp.”

“Aren’t we going in?” Fayroe asked, surprised.

“No.” Ishran dismounted and grabbed something from his bag, before he walked away.

“So… what’s with the muzzle?” Ishran heard Fayroe ask as he moved some distance away from the cave.

Putting his back to the other two, he turned his attention to palmhusk he’d procured. It was definitely nothing fancy- an older version he’d gotten for cheap at a pawn shop- but it still worked, and was durable for travel. Thumbing through the menus, he raised it to his ear as it rang.

“Aye?” The trembling voice of Ruthless picked up after a few rings.

“We found her.”

[Everyone please welcome Alaric Evrren! (Link to bio)]

[amor-immortalem]

Everything Undesired chapter 9

chapter 8

Warnings: Victim blaming (but not from who you think it is) mention of rape, mention of underage drinking, mention of drugged drinks

When Arella returned to Mammon’s room, everything was quiet. She wasn’t so sure whether that was a good or bad thing yet. She made her way down the stairs quietly. If the demon had been sleeping, she would have hated to disturb him. She sat next to him on the bed. He wasn’t sleeping but rather just staring off into space, a blank look painted across his features- not a good sign.

“Mams?” her call was soft as she reached out instinctively to cup his cheek to turn his head towards her, but stopped. Maybe he wouldn’t appreciate being touched right now, she thinks as she just settles beside him, choosing instead to just observe her boyfriend for the moment.

His eyes were far off once again. He looks so delicate right now, like any wrong action might shatter him to pieces. It makes her heart ache at the sight. He was always such a bright person, always smiling, cracking silly jokes. To see him reduced to this all due to a scene in a movie.... as much as she understood what he was going through, well, it wasn’t fun to watch and not be able to do anything to help. Arella wouldn’t initiate contact with out his express permission unless it looked like he was going to hurt himself or he pursued it himself, wanting to reestablish that Mammon had all the control right now.

She sat in silence with the Avatar of Greed for what must’ve been a good three hours. She was starting to nod off when the white-haired demon abruptly rolled over onto her before immediately recoiling away off the bed, startled at her presence. Arella’s eyes widened as she scrambled over to his side of the bed and peered over the edge.

“Mammon, are you alright?”

“Damn...” Mammon groaned as he rubbed the back of his head. He takes a moment look at his surroundings. “How the fuck did I get in my room?” he seemed confused before he looked up at his human. “Weren’t we jus’ down in the common room with m’brothers watching that horror movie that Levi wanted to see?”

Arella shook her head. “No, Love, do you really not remember? There was a scene we didn’t know about. You had a panic attack and took off... I was able to get you to calm down and you’ve been here ever since. Your brothers have been looking for you to see if you’re alright but I text them and told them you were safe.”

The demon’s face paled at that. “How...How long ago was that?”

“Three hours ago... almost four at this point. Here come up on the bed,” she reached a hand out to help him up and he took it, pulling himself up off the floor and climbing back into bed.

“’m going crazy ain’t I, Babe?” He leaned his head on her shoulder, “What sane person jus’ loses nearly four hours because of a movie like that?”

“No... No, Honey, you're not going crazy. What you experienced over and over again was traumatic. This is normal. It’ll get better as time goes on; I promise.”

“Ya sound so sure...”

“Because this is something I’ve experienced before.”

Mammon’s ears perked up at that. He pulled back to look her in the eyes. “Were you...” He couldn’t even bring himself to finish the question.

“Y-Yeah...” Arella looked to the side, hoping he would read the room and not ask any more questions but luck wasn’t on her side.

“Who did it?”

“No, this isn’t about me so it really doesn’t-”

“Arella. Who. Did. It?” The demon’s gaze was intense as he grabbed her shoulders firmly. “Tell me.”

“A boyfriend I had no business dating.” She squeaked. “I was sixteen and he was twenty-three at the time. He drugged my drink when I wasn’t looking a-and it was my fault to begin with. If I hadn’t been drinking underage, it never would have happened.”

“Look at me. Do you even hear yourself right now? Why the hell do you think that? If what happened to me wasn’t my fault, why is what happened to you your fault?” The Avatar of Greed frowns.

“W-Well,” She begins, meeting his eyes nervously, “It’s like I said, I was drinking underage when I shouldn’t have been. I could have avoided that but what happened to you was unavoidable due to the very nature of pacts and their orders.”

“And so what? You made a mistake, Baby. That didn’t mean you deserved to be raped!” Arella watches at the look on his face devolves in a look of horror. “Did I? Did I force you to do something you didn’t wanna?” He worried as he was the one who pushed for them to start sleeping together.

“N-No! No, no, I enjoyed and wanted everything we’ve done together a-and you always stop whenever I say no. Things are different with us. Look...” her voice was small. “Can we stop talking about me now...I’m uncomfortable.”

“That’s fine,” he nodded as he pressed his forehead against hers and tugged her down so they could just lay in bed together. “You can talk to me if you need to...”

Arella nodded as she wondered how they had gotten here. She was supposed to be comforting him and yet it was the other way around now. The human thinks maybe she should have kept this to herself since all she managed to do was make this about herself and that’s not what Arella wanted at all.  She was a little lost in thought as he rolled onto his stomach resting his head on her chest but the sudden shift was enough to draw her attention.

“Do you mind... if I run my hand through your hair?’

“No, I don’t... What are ya even asking for?”

“I.... I don’t want to do anything without your consent...” she says as she starts to card her fingers through his hair. “I want you to feel like you’re the one in charge again.”

“Ya always have my consent, Treasure.” The demon purrs contently. They lay there for a few minutes before Mammon shoots up. “It’s been too quiet... The baby!”

Arella grabs his arm to keep him from running off, “Asmo took him tonight so I could focus on you.”

“Really?” He seems touched. “Ya didn’t have to do that. He could have slept in here in between us if I was in that bad of shape...” He laid back down. “Well since we got the night to ourselves do ya wanna...?”

“Want to what?” It took her a few minutes to realized what he was asking and a deep blush covered her cheeks at the thought of it. “I-I mean I wouldn’t mind it but are you sure you’re ready for that again?”

“Yeah... as long as I’m in control, I should be fine... Are you okay with it right now?” The demon rises up over his mate. “I just want to replace the feeling of their hands all over me with yours. Will you let me?”

The look in his eyes is somewhere between desperation and longing and Arella can do nothing but nod, feeling much the same way.

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

As the morning rolled in, the Avatar of Greed curls closer into his human, a satisfied smile on his face. Despite the earlier events of the night, he couldn’t have been more at peace- that is until he heard his child crying for him. Instinctively he hopped out of bed, threw on whatever sweat pants were closest to him and rushed down the hallway to Asmo’s room.

Thankfully the door was unlocked so he just let himself in. He found his brother practically dancing around the room in small gentle motions, bouncing Cyrus in his arms as the little one wailed and wailed. When the fifth-born spotted their brother, they turned in a way that allowed the infant to see his father.

“Cyrus, look, look, there’s Daddy.” And that’s really all it took for the boy to calm down from the wailing, reduced now to soft whines and whimpers. “Sorry, I didn’t want him to wake you two since I didn’t know how late you guys had been up last night but I guess he must just be sick of me by now.”

“It’s fine, Asmo. Here, I’ll take him now.” The second-born holds his arms out for the child and Asmo transfers him over to Mammon. “I’m here now, Buddy. Ya ain’t gotta cry no more...” He returns his attention back to the Avatar of Lust. “Thank you so much Asmo. Ya didn’t have to do this for us... especially after I ruined movie night last night...”

“Don’t worry about it,” The strawberry blonde demon smiles. “I loved spending the night with him. He’s a good sleeper and such a little lovebug. He really likes to snuggle huh?”

Mammon nods at that. “How much did he take on a bottle?”

“Roughly about two and a half ounces.” They smile as Asmo rubs Cyrus’ back. “I heard about the whole not eating much on a bottle thing.”

“Yeah, he was only taking an ounce so it must’ve been the taste of the formula that bothered him. When was the last time he ate or had a diaper change?

“Not long ago actually, he ate maybe an hour ago and he had a change about fifteen minutes ago.”

The Avatar of Greed only nods as he heads to the door with his child but Asmodeus stopped him.

“Do you still feel like a bad father?”

“I mean kinda... but it’ll get easier from now on...” He looks back at his younger brother. “I didn’t hear him at first. Shouldn’t good parents be able to hear their kids right away when they’re cryin’?”

“Mammon, both you and Arella you sleep like the dead,” The Avatar of Lust chuckles. “Not to mention, your room isn’t exactly close to mine. I wouldn’t have been surprised if you didn’t hear the little guy.  Now, if you’d had a baby monitor and still didn’t hear him, that would be a cause for concern, but look at you. The moment you realized he needed you, you came running. You’re a good father so have a little more faith in yourself, m’kay?”

“Sure...” A small smile crept up on his face. “Thanks, Asmo.”

“Anytime,” The demon smiles as he walks out with his brother. “It’s my turn to cook breakfast today. What do you think we should have?”

“I’m not sure actually,” Mammon thinks for a moment, coming up with nothing, “to be honest, eating is the last thing on my mind right now. Maybe you could just make what you usually do. It’s been a while since we had your pancakes so I’m sure the others would appreciate it.”

Asmo only nodded as they walked down the hall back towards Mammon’s room. They were met by the eldest who had been heading down to Asmo’s room.

“You’re awake.” Lucifer looked surprised. “How’re you feeling, Mammon?”

“Better,” the Avatar of Greed sighs, “I slept for a bit after I calmed down so I’m good for the time being.”

“That’s good. The end of the term’s almost here as I’m sure you know, and then we have a month break before the new term starts. I think you and Arella should take a vacation together. It might be good for you to get away for a bit. You deserve at least that much.”

Mammon looks down at his son who was trying to hold his head up every so often before it would fall back down to his father’s shoulder. “You mean with the baby... right?”

“Well, no, but if you would rather bring him with you that’s not a problem as well. If you choose for him to stay, it would be helpful for the rest of our brothers to learn how to care for an infant allowing them to help you better so the four of us don’t have to do all the work.”

The second-born looked down at Cyrus who only smiled at him as little trills and coos came from the child.

“Nah, I think we’ll take him with us- might be better that way.” He hummed, “Thanks for offerin’ though. Arella should be up by now so I’ll get goin’ back to her. See ya.”

Both of his brothers nodded as they exchanged a look with soft smiles.

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As Mammon returns to his room, he spots Arella gathering up the sheets he had pulled of the bed after their shower last night, having dressed herself while he was gone. When she noticed them, her eyes lit up.

“There’re my boys!” She smiled as she approached them. Cyrus mimicked his adoptive mother’s facial expressions and as she stood on her tip-toes to press a kiss to his nose before shifting over press a kiss to Mammon’s cheek.

“What, just the one? I didn’t realize ya hated me today.” The demon teased, seeing if he could get more kisses from his human.

“Well, if you would bend down, I could give you proper kisses.” Arella hummed. “I’m vertically challenged, remember? You have to meet me half-way, Love.”

“Right, right,” The demon chuckles as he leans down shifting Cyrus so his head was supported in the new position. “I hear ya, Short-stack.” He smiled as she pressed little kisses all over his face before he was turning his head to catch her in a surprise kiss.

He pulled away once Cyrus let out a disgruntled cry, no longer comfortable like this and wanting more of his parents’ attention.

“Here, I’ll take him so you can get dressed. I’ll be downstairs to throw these in the wash and get him dressed.” Arella takes the boy from his father and climbs the stairs, heading out with the sheets tucked under her arm.

“Oh hey! I almost forgot but how would you like to take a vacation after the term ends? Just the three of us...”

She looked back at him before smiling. “A holiday sounds wonderful, Dear. We can go up to the human world together, to my home outside of York.”

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