#i spent two hours hand writing that text on the clock

[clueative]

Tick tock - the time ticks away.

[scary-lasagna]

HEYY! Wondering if you do everymanhybrid and if so could you write a HABIT x reader headcannons? Relationship in general I don’t have specifics in mind

I might have mentioned him in passing before, but I'll definitely write something about him for his place in my AU, it's a bit ooc from EMH but it's very interesting.

HABIT

Habit is...not mentally stable in the slightest.

The only time he would fall in love is if it either a.) benefited him or b.) you were smokin' hot and he obsesses over you

And be prepared to hear him mull and complain over both Slender and Zalgo, both who equally piss him off but he's forced to be nice to one of the two.

But when Habit falls, he will fall hard. You will sit on a royal pedestal, and HABIT your knight in shining armor. There would be nothing he is against doing for you.

He grovels at your feet, swearing to always protect you, to keep you fed, to keep you safe and warm, to-

“I KNOW you only asked for Kirspy Kreme, but darling my point still stands.” And he pulls his unsettling, ear-to-ear grin out of his back pocket to plaster on his face.

But all-in-all he’s your little guard dog.

Most of his working hours are spent obsessing over Slender’s history and origins, striving to find any bit of information that will lead to his downfall.

The rest of his work day is spent over tea with Zalgo, not that he ever drinks any, he’s really just there for the lemon squares and latest celebrity news that haven’t hit the 6 o clock channels yet.

After all, Zalgo has close ties to all of the higher ups. He always has the best gossip.

He might shove some pastries in his pockets for you if anything looks of your taste, but they’re usually melted or crumbled by the time he gets home. Usually he licks the remains out of his pocket (gross).

There’s also a room in your shared space that you are never allowed to go in, two if you’re counting the closet.

A room filled to the brim with ancient texts, books, artifacts, and knives hold a red herring for a closet in that same room filled with many different types of guns, weapons, cursed artifacts, and a haunted McDonalds coupon from 2008.

HABIT and Evan function similarly to Liu and Sully, however HABIT has the upper hand in the body. It’s a once in a blue moon occurrence that Evan will peek through and attempt to escape the house and/or try to kill you, thinking you kidnapped him.

Freaked the hell out of you the first time it happened before HABIT managed to grab hold of the reigns.

Safe to say, Evan was properly dealt with that night in the dimension of HABITs brain, being held in a void of endless whispering and torment while you sat with HABIT, watching Twilight just to make fun of it.

He’s also kind of…not the brightest. He always has the right idea, but never quite sure how to execute it properly. This is the explanation of the many failed assassination attempts toward Slender and his brothers.

He has been sucker punched more times than he can count by 3/4 of them. Splendor just talks him down with a therapy session and it works in more ways than one.

But this also applies to relationships. You want roses? He gets you daisies because they look better, even though you specified roses.

A fancy restaurant date? Takes you on a cruise. You didn’t want or pack for a cruise. Neither did he. Don’t ask where he got the money.

Right idea, wrong execution.

He’s also extremely clingy, even though it’s been implied, but he will quite literally hover around you, waiting to be acknowledged or asked to do something for you, because if he’s not working, he doesn’t have anything else worth tending to except for you.

You’ve once asked for alone time and he quite literally sat in the floor of the kitchen and twiddled his toes until you got peckish for a snack and stumbled on him.

“Why are you on the floor?”

“I was waiting for you to ask me to get you a cookie.”

[writing-till-i-am-dead]

Laigan oneshot - Date night

Recommended by Only_Stxr on AO3 <3

When Logan and Aiden had started dating, no one expected it. The two didn’t really hang out or talk to specifically just each other when they were all as a group. 

However, as it turns out, the two have been texting a lot. Even calling, something Logan is terrified to do. 

Calling wasn’t so scary with Aiden, though. They like to face time and Aiden just rambles while Logan does some studying. It’s nice. 

“And that’s why banana candy doesn’t taste like actual bananas!” Aiden said, concluding a hyperspecific topic he knows a strange amount of details on. 

“Interesting! Didn’t know you knew so much about horticulture. Maybe you should work for my grandparents.”

“If I could see more of you, sure!”

Logan went quiet. 

“Logan, are you flustered again?”

“Um… s-so, how’s your homework going?”

“Finished it all already.”

Logan chuckled. “Where do you get the time?”

“Magic.”

“Ha..”

The two go silent for a moment, only filled by the writing of Logan’s fountain pen.

“So, Starshine, are you busy tomorrow?”

Logan snorted at the nickname. Aiden had started calling him that when they watched the Johnny Depp Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. The name just kind of stuck. 

“Tomorrow? Um.. I’m working at my grandparents’ shop from 11-4. Why?”

“I wanna have a date!”

Logan jolted from his desk so fast that papers fell. “A date?”

“Ya! A proper one! We haven’t gotten to do that yet.”

“I…” He fiddled with the strings of his pajama pants. “Where would we go..?”

“The amusement park I was thinking!”

“Oh.. like.. rollercoasters, or..?”

“YEA!”

“Oh..”

“Don’t worry. I’ll let you hold my hand so you won’t get scared.”

“Aha.. all right. As long as we go on the ferris wheel.”

“Of course!”

There was a pause before Aiden speaks. 

“So, I’ll see you at 4:30 tomorrow?”

“Ya. I’ll see you.”

“Prepare to have lots of toys won for you!”

“Aiden, my stuffed animal collection is already huge!” Logan said, laughing. 

“Well, tell them to prepare for some new friends.”

He snorted. “Good night Aiden. I’ll see you in the phantom world.”

“Hardly,” he whined. “Too busy fighting and stuff.”

“Go to sleep.”

“Fine.”

Logan hung up because he knew that if he waited for Aiden to do it, they’d be on the phone for another 10 hours. 

Aiden was definitely right about them not getting to hang out in the phantom world. But that’s not too surprising. It’s always like this. Aiden usually has to do checkups on the base and Logan has to do patrols. 

“So, you and Logan are dating?” Taylor asks, walking with Aiden. 

“Yep! 3 weeks and 4 days!”

“That’s so cute! I had no idea you guys liked each other!”

“Well, yknow, Logan’s pretty shy and I’m respectful enough to not embarrass him.”

“Aww. You can be sweet when you want to, Aiden.”

“I’m always sweet!”

The two continued with their jobs and eventually the next day came. Logan was up bright and early like he always was. Went on his morning walk, feeding the neighborhood cats, making breakfast for his grandparents, and getting ready for his work. His normal morning routine. 

Aiden was awake ever since he woke from the phantom world. He rarely ever falls back asleep after that. He played Minecraft until the sun came through. Ben had walked in on him and gave him a concerned look before bringing him to the living room to have him do morning stretches with him. Ben did these every morning. Then Aiden ate the sugariest cereal ever to get his day started and debated opening a Red Bull, but decided not to yet. 

Then he spent the rest of his day being stuck in waiting mode. That’s his struggle. Everytime he’s doing something later in the day, he has trouble doing anything else. All he can do is really stare at the clock. 5 minutes feel like 5 hours and it’s like being stuck in limbo. 

He tried to pass the time by playing GTA and Call of Duty, but he still checked the clock every 10 minutes. 

Finally, it got to 4:00. He changed out of his pajamas, which he had been wearing all day, into a black t shirt, jeans, converse, and a hoodie.

“Hey, Ben, I’m going to be heading out!” Aiden said as he started walking to the door. 

Ben got up and stopped him. 

“Huh? What?” Aiden looked confused, tilting his head.

Ben pulled out a box of chocolates and then handed Aiden a note. 

At least give your date a gift. 

Aiden laughed, taking them. “I was going to win him tons of prizes.. but, chocolates aren’t a bad idea. Thanks, Ben.”

He then started walking to the amusement park. One of the perks from moving from the city to a small town? You can walk everywhere. And enjoy the scenery too! Lots of trees and grass. Neighbors already had Halloween decorations hung up. It was cool to see it all. It wasn’t something he was used to. 

He finally reached the amusement park and there he saw Logan in the front. He was wearing a cobalt blue sweater that made him look so huggable. Then again, Logan always looked huggable. And the best part is that Logan lets him hug him!

So, the first thing he did was wrap his arms around him, startling Logan who had not seen Aiden. 

“Don’t sneak up on me like that,” he said, grasping at his heart. 

“Hey to you too, Starshine!”

Logan shook his head and stopped shaking from the scare. “I got you your ticket,” he said, handing it to Aiden. 

“Thanks! And I got you chocolate!”

“Oh.. thanks.”

“What? What’s the face?”

“Just.. wasn’t expecting it. Now I feel bad. I didn’t get you anything.”

“You gave me your presence. That’s good enough.”

The two grasped hands and went in. 

“Oh wow.. it absolutely packed,” Logan said, trying to sound like he’s joking but his voice is still very tense.

“Ya, no kidding. Cmon, let’s look for the shortest line!”

“Ah, w-wait!”

Aiden dragged Logan off to explore the fairgrounds. 

“C-can we stop running?” Logan exclaimed. 

“Huh?” Aiden came to a sudden halt; causing Logan to crash into him, the two nearly falling. 

“Sorry!” Aiden said, laughing his ass off as he smooshed Logan’s face with his hands. “You’re not hurt, right?”

“No.. I’m fine,” Logan says awkwardly. 

“Kay!”

He glances over and see a booth selling some AWESOME stuffed animals. Huge, fluffy ones. 

“Oh. My. Gosh. Logan, I’m gonna win you that prize!” 

Logan follows his finger and sees him pointing toward a giant shark stuffed animal. It was actually kind of perfect. It was really derpy looking. Plus, Aiden and Logan have both been hyperfixating on ocean life recently, going in long rambles about what they had learned and theories about the deep. 

“Um.. ok,” Logan said, smiling excitedly as he followed Aiden to the booth. 

They stood in line for a couple of minutes, during those minutes, Aiden did cool hand tricks, like clasping his hands, bringing his middle fingers downs, and twisting his hands. Logan laughed. It was such a simple trick, yet Aiden’s face was so silly as he did it that he couldn’t help but find it hilarious. Aiden always managed to make things really funny. 

Finally, it was their turn. Aiden slapped a dollar onto the table and picked up the water gun. “Ok, lemme just..” Aiden took a moment to finally aim and shot the water into the clown’s mouth, the balloon slowly filling up. But Aiden’s hands had trouble staying still, causing him to get off track and eventually he ran out of time. 

“Huh?! No!! Let me try again!”

Aiden tried at least 3 more times, failing those as well. 

“Nooooo!!!”

“Sir,” said the man at the booth. “Please hurry up and give someone else a turn.”

“Nooooo!”

Logan smiles nervously and places a dollar on the stand. “May I try?”

The man shrugs. “Go on ahead, kid.”

Logan picks up the water gun and closes one eye as he aims. Once he finds the perfect position, his muscles completely locked together, the only thing that moved was when his finger pulled the trigger, the water shooting straight forward, not moving at all. 

The balloon popped right before the alarm. 

“Hey, good job,” said the man.  “Which prize do you want?”

“I’ll take the shark.”

Once Logan was handed the shark, he turned to Aiden, smiling. Aiden’s jaw was on the floor and blushing like an idiot. “I.. always forget how good an aim you are,” Aiden says after composing himself, taking the shark and burying his face into it. “So soft!!”

Logan laughs. “Where do you wanna go now?”

Aiden’s eyes shone and he smiled mischievously. “Roller. Coaster.”

“Oh dear.”

“It’s ok! I’ll make sure you can stay safe and sound!”

“That’s.. not exactly the point.”

“Haha, cmon!!”

The two got in line for a rollercoaster that was called the FUCK YOU IF YOU’RE SCARED OF ROLLERCOASTERS, BECAUSE IF YOU DON’T RIDE THIS ONE, YOU’RE LAME AS HELL. 

The name of it definitely made Logan not feel great about himself. 

“Uh, sir, you can’t go on with such a big stuffed animal,” said the ride operator. 

Aiden hissed, actually hissed, which made Logan snort, and pressed the shark to his chest. 

“It goes where I go.”

“Well.. since it’s the size of a human, you and your buddy will have to go in two different seats.”

“H-huh?!” they both exclaimed. 

The ride operator shrugged and Aiden hesitated before reluctantly handing it to her. “Guard it with your life,” he said in a threatening tone, which actually managed to freak the operator out a little. 

The two got in their seat, Logan shaking and grabbing Aiden’s arm. 

“This is going to be so fun!” Aiden said at the same time as Logan said, “This is going to be terrifying!”

The speaker went over some rules to stay safe on the ride, then there was a count down, then started to slowly move. 

Logan began breathing fast, shaking uncontrollably. Fuck. He’s literally fought against demonic-like creatures. Why is this affecting him so bad?

He felt Aiden squeeze his hand. “It’ll be ok, Starshine,” he says before giving him a big, toothy smile. 

Logan squeezed Aiden’s hand so hard, Aiden was sure he would have some broken bones. 

Finally, they reached the peak. Logan sucked in a sharp breath and screamed as they dove down at top speeds. 

Aiden was whooping and cheering and laughing, throwing his hands into the air while still holding Logan’s hand. 

The wind was overwhelming and Logan used his other hand to keep his glasses in place. Fuck, he should’ve taken them off before getting on!

Once the ride came to a stop, Aiden was laughing and kicking his legs giddily. “Oh my gosh, that was awesome!!”

He hopped off and helped Logan get off; who was shaking like a leaf. “You ok, Lo?” he asks, laughing, concerned. 

“You owe me a Ferris wheel ride..” he grumbles, looking down and trying not to throw up. 

“Haha! Yes, I do. Cmon. Let’s go get something to eat, first.”

“Hnghhh…”

Aiden retrieved his shark and they went over to the food court. 

“Oh, it all smells so good!”

“Hmmmm…” Logan whimpers slightly, the idea of eating sounds awful. 

“You good?”

“I just need to.. sit down..”

“Right..” They sat down at a bench, Aiden rubbing Logan’s back while Logan had his face buried in his hands. 

“You feeling any better?” Aiden asks. 

Logan shakes his head, his face buried in the stuffed animal.

Aiden nearly frowned, but stopped himself. “Wait here.”

He got up and quickly ran to a booth. It was just a ball throw to knock over some cans. Easy as hell. “Um, here,” Aiden says, putting some money on the stands. He won with ease, knocking over every can. 

“I want that toy,” Aiden says. 

As he walked off, he also stopped to grab a water. 

When he comes back, he spots Logan. 

“Hey, Starshine..”

“Hm?” Logan looked up. Aiden handed him a water, which he quickly downed. 

“I also got you this.” He held up the stuffed down. A star with a pair of sunglasses on. 

“Pffft.. silly,” Logan says, taking the toy and squeezing it. 

“Does it make you feel better?”

“I think the water is making me feel better.”

“Aaaand the toy?”

He snorted. “And the toy.”

Aiden ruffles Logan’s hair and Logan finally starts to feel better. “Let’s go on the Ferris wheel,” he says, standing up. 

Aiden takes the shark plushie and nods. “Kay!”

They walked through the fair grounds and got in line. 

“I think our stuffed toys are dating,” Aiden says confidently. “They are super in love.”

“They don’t even have names, Aiden.”

“Ok.. mine is… CHAZ!”

“Chaz the shark? All right. And I’ll name mine.. Spock!”

Aiden laughs. “Of course.”

Finally it was their turn. Aiden decided that one side of the Ferris wheel, the stuffed animals could have that bench. 

“Like they’re on a date!”

Logan ducks his head and smiles a little. “You’re just doing that so we can sit on the same bench, aren’t you?”

“Haha.. I am not slick, huh?”

“Not really,” he says, laughing. 

The two sat next to each other, Aiden hugging Logan tightly. Logan rests in the hug for a moment before twisting a little to look out the window. 

“Not many stars..” he murmurs. “Curse you light pollution..”

Aiden also looks out the window. He notices Logan’s disappointment. “Is that why you wanted to go in the Ferris wheel? To star gaze?”

“Maybe.. it sounded romantic.”

“Hmmm…” Aiden rests his chin on Logan’s shoulder, looking out the window on his side before turning to look out his own. By the lights from the fair were too bright. He squints, trying his best to find something before jumping up. “Logan! Logan!”

“Huh?”

Logan turns and looks at the sky through Aiden’s window. 

“I don’t see anything..”

“A shooting star!!”

Logan squints and then spots it before smiling. “That’s.. a plane, Aiden.”

“Oh..” Aiden looks down, smiling but clearly embarrassed. 

Logan leans in and kisses his temple. 

“Nice try, though.”

“O-oh!” Aiden exclaims, not expecting the kiss. “That was..” He rubs the spot. “A very welcome surprise.”

Logan smiles shyly and the two grasp hands. Logan liked how Aiden could be so casual sometimes. He knew that Aiden was probably screaming on the inside, but he was able to remain somewhat level headed for Logan’s sake.. somewhat. Logan could feel Aiden shaking from buried excitement. 

“Hey.. Aiden. Wanna come to my place?”

“Huh?”

“We can watch Interstellar! I’ve been wanting to get you to watch it.”

“Ya, sure! I’d love to.. wow.. it’ll be the first time we’ll be hanging out at one of our places alone. Excitinggggg!” he says, shaking Logan by the shoulder. 

The ride comes to an end and they grabbed their stuffed animals and stepped off. “The air has really cooled off,” Logan said, shivering slightly. “Guess it is that time of year. Should’ve worn a thicker sweater.”

“I have been waiting my whole life for this.”

“Huh?” Logan turns to Aiden to ask what he was talking about but his eyes widened when he saw him removing his hoodie. 

“What are you doing?! You’re gonna catch a cold!”

“I’m durable, remember?”

“Aiden, seriously. I’ll be fine.”

Aiden shakes his head and puts it on Logan. “There we go.”

“Are you not cold?”

“Lo, I’m like a heater. It’s a Clark family trait. I’ll be fine.”

“Fine.. at least hold my hand to keep those warm.”

“Ohhh, that was smooth,” Aiden says, taking Logan’s hand. 

“I wasn’t even trying to be smooth.. I guess I just got lucky.”

The two grasp hands and began to walk to Logan’s place. 

“Hey.. Lo.”

“Hm?”

“Thanks for dating me.”

“Um… y-you’re welcome?”

“I really mean it! I didn’t realize I was so into nerdy guys! You’ve opened my eyes!”

Logan snorts and shoves his shoulder into Aiden’s. “Stoppppp.”

They look at the Halloween decorations of the neighboring houses. 

“What’ll you dress as for Halloween?” Aiden asks. 

“Probably Spock..”

“You and Star Trek.”

“What’ll you be?”

“I was thinking of dressing as a phantom.”

“Seriously?! Why?”

“I think it’s a total power move.”

“Oooof course.”

When they reached Logan’s house, Logan put a finger to his mouth. “Be sure to just be as quiet as you can. My grandparents like to go to bed early.”

“Kay.” But they both knew Aiden probably would shout at least 10 times during the movie. He has no volume control. 

The two entered Logan’s room and Aiden was awestruck. Fairy lights, star stickers, a huge bed covered in blankets, stuffed animals, and pillows, posters covering the walls and a whole glass jar filled with fancy pens (Logan likes collecting fancy pens). 

“This is the greatest room I have ever seen in my life.”

Logan laughs and grabs his laptop. He sits on the bed and pauses for a moment. “Wait.. are we going to cuddle?”

Aiden tilts his head and chuckles. “Ummm.. I thought that was the plan?”

“I-I didn’t even think about it! I just wanted to watch the movie and unwind!”

“Do you not want to cuddle?” Aiden asked, failing to hide his disappointment. Physical touch is his love language. 

“Yes? No? I-I don’t.. I-“

Aiden cut him off by plopping himself on top of him, knocking the wind out of him. 

“Took too long to answer,” he declares. 

Logan freezes for a moment before realizing just how warm Aiden was. “You really are like a heater!”

“Told ya!”

Logan manages to loosen up a little, pulling the movie up and the two wrapping up in the blankets. Aiden was a total blanket hog, but Logan had tons of blankets, so it worked out. 

Aiden was talking through the whole movie, which made Logan a bit sad. 

He’s not interested in it.. he thought. 

But then Aiden started making comments and theories on the movie, damn near getting the entire ending right. 

“Are you.. enjoying the movie?” Logan asks. 

“Huh? Ya! It’s cool!!”

“Ok… cool.”

Once the movie concluded, Logan found himself crying. He always cried when watching this movie. Aiden was hugging the shark plushie and looked at the star stickers on the ceiling. “Cool movie! ….What now?”

“Um.. do you wanna watch Star Trek: Next Generation..? We don’t have to! I know I you probably don’t wanna watch any more of my nerd space stuff, but-“

“I wanna watch it.”

“…ok.. cool..”

They turned on the show and Logan finally was relaxed enough to lean back. The entirety through the movie, he had been sitting up. But he’s starting to feel fine now. Loose. 

While an episode was running, Logan turns his head to Aiden. “Hm.. your eye bags.. they’re pretty heavy..” he notes. “Do you sleep?”

“Uhhh.. ya? All the time. How else do I get to the phantom world?”

“You know that doesn’t count.. besides that.”

“Um… nooooooo….”

Logan pouts a little. Aiden’s never seen him pout. 

“Take them out.”

“Huh?”

“Your contacts. Take them out.”

“What? Why?”

“You’re going to sleep early.”

“Whaaaaaat?”

“Do it.”

Aiden hesitates before relenting. It was hard to say no when Logan was so serious and stern. He took them out and he had to squint at the screen to see it. 

Logan closes the laptop and rests his head against Aiden’s chest, his glasses smooshing against him. 

“Aren’t you going to take your glasses off?” Aiden asks smugly. 

“Hm.. right.. I always forget.”

“Hypocrite,” he says playfully. 

Logan places them on his nightstand. Aiden wrapped his arms around him, the two shifting a bit to get comfortable in the blankets because there were just so many. 

Once they finally got comfortable, Aiden started doing this weird thing where we rubbed his legs together like a grasshopper. 

“What’re you doing?” Logan asks quietly, chuckling. 

“It’s comfy!”

He shrugs. “If you say so. I just think it’s because you can’t sit still.”

“That too.”

Aiden buries his face into Logan’s hair, relaxing a bit. He actually started to get tired. Heavy eyelids, yawning, brain becoming static, everything. And everything is soft, and warm, and nice. And not.. lonely. Not a screen buzzing in his face and a cold empty room. 

He wasn’t alone.. and that was the last thought he had before he actually fell asleep… He fell asleep. 

[catieconqueso]

Of where we'd end up at the end of it...

An Apollo x Grace Oneshot (4k words) I wanted to explore the Veil a little further since its really only mentioned as this ominous thing that happens when a new Idol rises. So here's a not-so-quick one shot featuring Grace dealing with the effects of the Veil.

Usually I only post my writing on Ao3, but since there's no Stray Gods tag yet, posting this here instead. (Please be nice! I don't usually post my writing here!)

She’s still sitting on the couch, clutching a cup of iced coffee that’s more water than coffee, when the light switches on and bathes the apartment in soft golden light. “Grace?” Freddie’s standing in the doorway stuck somewhere halfway between the doorframe and shoving her keys into her back pocket as she stares at the only occupant of a room that should have been empty. “What the hell are you doing here?” Grace doesn’t answer, not at first, just stares blankly at Freddie as she flicks her wrist over and over to swirl the liquid in her coffee cup as if it were the only thing keeping her from floating away. And it was. “Didn’t know where to go,” she finally admits after a period of silence that has just begun to border on uncomfortable. “And I still had my keys, so I thought…” She trails off, the thumb of her free hand stroking along the golden sun hung around her middle finger.

“Gods, Grace,” Freddie exhales as she toes off her boots and climbs onto the couch beside her. “We’ve been looking everywhere for you. Why didn’t you call?” She doesn’t need to ask who ‘we’ meant, not with the two dozen missed calls and texts left unseen on her phone—Freddie, Kaz and Brian, Oracle, even a voicemail from Persephone, who’d merely informed Grace that she’d go to the Underworld and kick her shade’s ass if she was lying in a ditch somewhere. And beneath all that had been a single text of garbled capital letters and punctuation that had begged her to please come home. That it was okay that she was mad at him, that he just wanted her to come home. “I…” She begins, throat aching and raw from hours spent choking down tears and screaming into whatever pillow was closest. “I…” She starts again, swallowing thickly over the lump of emotion that threatens to choke her, but the words won't come out no matter how hard she tries. Some Muse she was, unable to string together a couple sentences worth of an excuse so she could go back to wallowing in her self-pity alone. So instead, she hands Freddie the coffee cup. Grace tries to ignore the way her hands shake as she does so. She tries even more to forget the name written in looping ink that taunts her from between Freddie’s outstretched fingers. “Grace, what are you…oh.” For all her trying to hide it, Grace easily clocks the exact moment when Freddie’s confusion devolves into pity. And then into hesitant worry as she tucks the cup into the couch cushions beside her.

“The barista asked for my name,” Grace explains, thumb still working impatient circles into the gold ring on her finger. “And I said it was Calliope.”

It had been such a little thing, an off-handed moment that shouldn’t have meant anything— a slip of the tongue. And it's not like she didn’t know this was coming, not with all the gentle touches and easing into the newness of it all. But she’s starting to lose more bits of herself day by day. She’s taken to drinking tea in the morning instead of her usual overly sweet coffee, even though a month ago, the bitter taste of it made her want to puke. And that the sound of ocean waves has begun to remind her of a summer spent some time in the 18th century wrapped in the warmth of the sun while lying naked on a bed of sand. That the scent of the newly sprouted cherry blossoms lining the entrance of Olympus reminds her of Paris in springtime, even though she’s never even left the country. But most of all, it's that two days ago, she looked in the mirror and for a split second didn’t recognize the face looking back.

It’s how it works. We all went through it, kid. Persephone had told her that night over too many glasses of whiskey beneath the neon lights of the Underworld when Grace had taken to drowning out the feeling that she was a stranger in her own skin with whatever booze she’d been able to get her hands on. Didn’t Apollo warn you?

Of course, Apollo had warned her. He’d spent every waking minute preparing her for the moment when Calliope would come rushing in like the tide on mornings they’d gotten up early to watch the sunrise. Just gotta let it happen, Grace. I’ll be there waiting on the other side when it does. Stupid, sweet Apollo, who’d been nothing but achingly gentle when Grace wanted nothing more than to rage against the shit hand that fate had dealt her. Had soothed the storm that swirled inside her when all she could think about was ending the cycle just so the next Calliope didn’t have to watch helplessly as everything that made her Grace slipped away. “Oh, Grace,” Freddie breathes out as she settles a warm hand on her knee with a watery smile. “I…” Freddie swallows, testing her next words on her tongue before she lets them free in a rush of an exasperated sigh. Cause it's not like this is the first time Grace’s disappeared for a few days, only to reappear as though nothing were wrong, still riding on the tail end of a bender. “Does Apollo know?” Grace shrugs and sinks into the couch cushions as though they were swallowing her up, and she wishes they would. “We’re not exactly talking at the moment,” she admits with a pang of guilt she hasn’t felt since she was a kid and her mom caught her sneaking out to go to some concert with Freddie.

“Grace,” Freddie repeats, fingers stroking along the swath of bare, pale skin that peaks out from beneath the hole worn into denim over her kneecap. “I think you should…” “I know Fred,” she interrupts, again letting her thumb trace over the golden sun, “it…I said some real shitty things to him, not sure he wants to see me.”

He wanted her to come home so he could take care of her 'cause that’s all he did— he took care of her when all she wanted was someone to see her, to hear her. Had pacified the storm in her until it was nothing more than a breeze and had reduced her walls to rubble so that he could easily crawl inside. When he tried to clean up the broken pieces of the mirror, of her cracked and broken sanity, she’d thrown it back in his face. Called him a coward, had accused him of wanting Calliope and not her, that he’d stuck around to ensure that every last piece of her was replaced. And patient, kind Apollo had remained silent as he wiped the gore from her knuckles with gentle touches and soft presses of his lips to her bloodied skin. But they both had been too stubborn to apologize. He’d once warned her so long ago outside of the Underworld that Idols liked to hold grudges. And they’d both become so good at holding onto theirs like a lifeline in a swirling sea. So instead of speaking, of putting the weeks of fear and confusion into words, she grabbed her jacket and left with a half mumbled excuse that she needed air. Had spent the next two days splitting her time between the Underworld and the uncomfortable leather of the couch in Persephone’s office.

“Persephone kicked me out,” she explains when Freddie presses the cold beer bottle into her waiting hands. “Said I either had to deal with my shit or start paying for my drinks.” Grace pauses to take a comforting swig of alcohol and finds that the taste makes her teeth ache. Yet another thing Calliope’s taken from her. “And instead of going home, you decided to break into my apartment?” Freddie sips gingerly at her beer as she fixes Grace with a look that says she can see through the bullshit, excuses, and lies. “Said I still had the keys.” Grace folds in draws her knees up to her chest, and settles her chin on the rough fabric of her denim-covered knees. It's all she can do to shield herself from the words that tumble from her lips. “I’m losing myself, Freddie,” she admits, her words rough and ruined by the tears that track down her cheeks. “And I’m scared.” Freddie doesn’t answer, instead wraps her in a warm embrace until Grace stops shaking and her breaths are no longer heaving, choking sobs. And Grace is thankful that, for the first time in three days, she no longer has to pretend that everything is okay. That she can finally put into words the aching, raw feeling in her chest that she’s tried so hard to drown out with whiskey. They don’t talk, don’t need to. Not that she wants to. She’s had enough of talking, of rationalizing every little thing that’s been happening to her. For the first time in three days, Grace permits herself to feel anything other than the bitter numbness she’s masked her fear with. And she drowns herself in it. It's not until hours later that she resurfaces from her grief, warm and blanket wrapped amongst the sheets of a familiar bed.

“You’re awake,” he murmurs, voice roughed by lack of sleep and three days of worry. The same worry he wears in the swaths of purple beneath his eyes and the unruly stubble that creeps down his neck. “I…I…” His hand rubs the back of his head and musses the golden curls that have been reduced to snarled tangles where they hang limply over his ears. He’s nervous, she thinks, watching as he repeats the gesture before fisting his hands into the fabric of his pants. “It’s good to see you.” He leans forward to settle his hand on her bare leg, where it peeks from beneath the blankets, but she’s faster as she draws her legs back beneath them before she can feel the heat that radiates off him. She’s wearing nothing but her underwear and one of his t-shirts, which, all things considered, was a blessing because Grace was certain her clothing reeked of cigarettes, booze, and the Underworld. Apollo sighs in reply and lets his palm settle over the still-warm sheets where her legs once rested. For a moment, his eyes flutter closed like he’s a junkie, and the warmth of where she’d laid is enough to soothe his craving to touch her. But there’s an ocean between them now, more profound than the one that swells and ebbs outside the bedroom window where she’d once felt safe. And the thought of his too-large, too-warm hands on her makes Grace want to crawl out of her skin.

“How did I get here?” She sits up, greeted by their bedroom that still looks exactly as she’d left it three days ago. His shirt still haphazardly hangs across the dresser from when she’d ripped it from his shoulders and tossed it over hers, and her bra’s still tucked halfway out from beneath the chair he sits upon. Both tell her it's the first time either of them has set foot in this room since she stormed out. “Freddy called me.” Called Oracle, she thinks, cause even with her patient prodding, Apollo still balks at the idea of using the simple flip phone she bought him. She knew he’d been desperate to find her when he’d resorted to texting her himself. But that’s not enough to soothe the rage slowly creeping up to settle on her shoulders. “Gods, it… it's been three days. I thought maybe you…you’d…that…” Apollo’s voice cracks with the weight of his guilt as he looks at her with the kind of desperation that quiets her storm. Her already broken heart rents and breaks as the weight of his words settles heavily on her shoulders. He’s already failed her, Calliope, once before, again, and it would break him. Maybe it's the year spent in the company of the god of prophecies, but for a moment, she’s granted a prophecy of her own, a hazy vision of Apollo soaked in sunlight as he walks into the sea with no one around this time to save him. “Sorry,” is all she can manage to say as she sinks deeper into herself. “I meant to call.”

“Meant to call?” His visions gone golden as his anger wells up, raw and fierce. “Fuck, Grace” he growls, hands tearing through his hair, “I…I thought you were dead!” Her own anger crackles beneath her skin in response to his because all they do anymore is fight. He’s the god of the sun, golden flames lit by the festering rage between them, and she’s his muse, her passion, the kindling that he burns through. “Obviously, I’m not,” she shoots back. Suddenly the rooms too hot, too stifling, and the blankets a band of iron keeping her tethered to the bed, to him. She throws them off, throws off the crushing weight of the guilt that threatens to snap her already fragile shoulders. “Not sure why you were so worried.” “Cal…Grace,” he starts, stumbling over the name. He’s just as unsure of which face she wears as she is. Today, it's Grace, but she knows that that won’t always be true in the future. Eventually, Grace will ebb with the tide of the Veil until all that’s left is Calliope. He’s done it a hundred times before, acts like it's nothing, that she should surrender to it all without putting up a fight. But Grace? This is her first time, and she feels like she’s constantly drowning beneath the weight of the eidolon in her chest. And Apollo’s the lifeboat she can’t quite reach. “You need to talk to me,” he sighs, hands, at last, settling on her bare calves, and Grace finds the warmth of his skin is just a touch more soothing than revolting.

“Nothing to talk about,” she answers, hiding behind the mask of monosyllabic answers. “It's fine,” she adds though she knows it to be untrue. It’s become easier and cleaner to lie to him than to lean on the still-strong bond that’d formed between them, and Grace’s found that a lie was often the most straightforward answer. Cause she doesn’t want to look at him and see disappointment reflected back where once shone love and pride. He doesn’t buy it. He never buys it. Instead, Apollo wordlessly slips into the bed beside her, his too-warm body curling over hers as though he could shield her from it all. And she lets him, too worn down and exhausted to protest, when his arm settles around her waist and pulls her against the hard planes of his body. “Talk to me, Grace,” he whispers softly into the crown of her hair. “Please.” Her shoulders finally snap at the weight of his words, so tender and warm, and she begins to cry. It feels like all she’s done is cry. Like somehow she’s thrown a lifetime of emotion into the past week and has come out the end worn and raw, with only her tears left to show for it. Breaking down still feels foreign, even after a lifetime of grief condensed into the span of two years, and she folds into herself in the hope of quelling the bitter tears that track down her cheeks to pool in the cleft of her collarbones. “I don’t,” she sobs, sinking into his embrace, “I don’t know how.”

Apollo’s patient, kind as he holds her, the only sound breaking the silence between him are his soft mummers of comfort and her hiccoughing sobs. “Shh, I have you, darlin’,” he breathes softly into the skin where her neck meets her shoulders. “I have you,” he repeats, fingertips gentle as they curve over the swath of her belly from where it peeks from beneath her stolen shirt. “Don’t need to talk just yet.” She thinks of using her powers for a moment, that she might be able to put her thoughts into song than she can words. But she does need to talk. Needs to get out the words that hang heavy in her chest. “I’m scared,” she finally admits when her tears no longer strangle her words. “Apollo, I’m so scared.” Her admission is deafening, her heart pounding in her ears. She’s always been the strong one, the rock, Grace, who everyone can depend on to swoop in and save the day. Vulnerability doesn’t come easy to her, even in front of Apollo, who’s seen her stripped down to nothing so many times that she’s lost count. Apollo, who’s laid himself bare in kind, even though she’s only ever held him at arm's length when he asked her to do the same.

“Shh, Grace,” he repeats, arms tightening around her as if he could shield her from the Veil itself. “I know you’re scared, but you need to talk to me.” He shifts her gently, as though she’s made of glass, until they are face to face. It's then that she realizes he’s been crying too. “I…I called myself Calliope today,” Grace answers, suddenly ashamed that such a trivial thing’s caused an ocean sized rift between them. It's not like any of this came as a surprise. It's not like she’s had a year of Apollo’s patient tutoring to prepare her for the eventuality. But that didn’t make the fact that she was slowly slipping away any less jarring. He chuckles, though it's hollow, forced. “The first time’s always the worst.” They’re not quite touching anymore, the ocean that separates them swelling up between the gaps where their skin should be flushed and entwined. “You’ll get used to it.” But she doesn’t want to get used to it, doesn’t want to feel like a stranger in her own skin. The thought of hearing Freddie or Persephone, or Gods, even Apollo calling her Grace, and her no longer recognizing her own name made her want to puke. It made her feel like she was that last bit of pencil that hadn’t been erased yet. It was inevitable, but waiting for it to happen, Gods, that was the worst part. “How,” she challenges, her anger towards him, Calliope, and Fate itself flaring hot and scorching beneath her skin. “How do I get used to not being me?”

Apollo smiles, gentle, patient, and soft, as he brushes her dark hair from her cheek, the touch coming after what feels like a lifetime of waiting. “By letting me in, Grace,” he answers, shifting so his lips can whisper soft over her own. His hand is warm as he cups her chin and forces her to look him in the eye. And for the first time that night, she meets his cool gaze willingly. “By not doing this alone.” Grace melts into the touch, lets herself feel safe, lets the weight of the past three days slip away until she’s light as air. “I…what if you don’t love me when I’m her?” It feels strange to put it into words, the dark thought that lingers about the edges of her. It used to be a seed, tucked into the earth unseen, but it's festered, grown into vines that wrap around her wrists, ankles, and, worst of all, her heart.

She’s fed it with the doubt she pretends not to see in his eyes when they get into a fight. Feeds it with the knowledge that between him and Calliope is a lifetime of fighting and reconciliation. With the fear that no matter how hard they try, it still won’t work out in the end. That, like Calliope, she’ll be alone. “If it didn’t work before, why now? Why are we any different, Apollo?”

Apollo kisses her instead of speaking, drawing her beneath his weight with warm hands heavy on her waist. “Grace,” he murmurs, facial hair tickling her skin as he peppers kisses along the curve of her jaw. “You are kind,” he pauses to press his lips to each of her cheekbones, “and caring,” another kiss to the tip of her nose, “and braver than anyone I have ever met.” His lips are soft when they meet the skin of her forehead. “And for all her fire, Calliope could never burn away all of you.” He chuckles as he settles his full weight atop her, stunned when she lets him. “You’re too stubborn for that.” “That doesn’t mean anything,” she grumbles, too warm beneath him. Apollo, God of the Sun, burns hotter than a furnace as Grace relents and every bit of her sinks into him. “You said yourself, eventually, she’ll take over.” “And,” he answers, words muffled as he tucks his head into the crook of her shoulder, “I also said I’d be here the whole time.” His teeth are gentle where they nip at whatever bit of her bare neck he can reach. “And that this time it’d last, but you seem to have forgotten that detail.” “Apollo,” she warns when his hand slips down her side to trace the curve of her hip. “Grace,” he parrots with a smile just as dazzling as the golden rays of sunlight streaking through the curtains. “Do you want to know something?”

Grace groans and wiggles her hips until she finds a comfortable spot beneath him. Difficult considering all of Apollo’s muscled bulk dwarfed hers by about a mile. But If Apollo’s in one of his romantic moods, well, then she’d better be settled in for the long haul. “Not sure if I do,” she grouses. “Think you might want to hear this.” Apollo pauses to tangle his fingers in hers. But fuck, his hand fits perfectly over hers, impossibly warm and just a shade too large. “You know that Calliope and I always found each other, even after our eidolons passed to the next person,” he explains, thumb stroking over the matching sun rings they wore. “That even if she and I were worlds apart, our souls would always find each other again.”

“I’m not really sure what this has to do with me,” Grace interrupts, suddenly very much aware of the one-sidedness of their memories. Course, the slate would be evened out when the Veil lifted, but she still sometimes caught Apollo staring at her with an unfamiliar reverence that spoke to memories she had yet to unlock. Like the reason he always wanted to sketch her lying out naked when they’d awake in the morning after a night of making love. Or the story behind the song he’d sing softly into her hair as they dozed watching the sunset on the sand.

“Because you, Grace,” Apollo murmurs. “My sweet, kind, brave, stubborn Grace. You’re the only one who’s captured me wholly, body and soul. We won’t have to find each other because we will never be parted. Not even the Fates would be enough to take me from you.” “You’re only saying that because you’re the one who insisted we get married.” She rolls her eyes at this slip into melancholia that’s sweet enough to make her teeth ache. But her heart still swells until it's impossible full at the love that shines in his eyes as he tilts his head down to capture her lips in a tender kiss that leaves the pair of them gasping for air when they finally part. “Grace or Calliope, it doesn’t matter. I’ll be here for you, no matter what.” Apollo’s gone soft, less stoic in the years since she’s met him. She knows he hates the romantic streak she’s carved into him, but it doesn’t stop the grand declarations of love he likes to wax to her at least once a day. And the longer she spends with him, she finds she doesn’t hate them, not at all. “Til the last star burns out of the sky.” “But what if it doesn’t work out,” she asks, guilt and doubt still lingering in her thoughts. Despite his assurances, she suspects it’ll be a while until they finally subside. “What if it stays the same?” “Then we’ll work through it together,” Apollo answers as, at last, Grace relaxes beneath him. “And if you still don’t believe me, I promise you that I’ll be here the whole time.” Grace smiles in earnest for the first time in three days as she finally surrenders to the joy and love that radiates off him like rays of sunlight. “I’ll hold you to that.”

[slafkovskys]

Could you write a blurb about being Luke’s sister but dating cutter and nobody knows till world juniors

i think this may be my new favorite ngl

12:07 a.m.

that’s what the clock on your bedside table read when you throw the hotel covers off of your body. it was still a little earlier than what your normal rendezvous had been, but you wouldn’t mind sitting by yourself for a few minutes. after pulling on your slippers, you tiptoe around the room trying not to wake your mother who had long been asleep as you search for your room key.

you undo the lock and slip out, holding your breath as you close the heavy door closed behind you. you shove your hands in the pockets of your pajama pants as you make your way to the elevator, fishing for your phone. the descent to the lobby is spent in silence as most people are in their rooms, having retired for the night while you on the other hand had been waiting for this since you had left each other the night before.

you find the couch you and cutter had pretty much claimed as your own and sink down, crossing your legs and tuning into whatever was on the tv.

12:12 a.m.

eighteen more minutes.

maybe you should have waited longer-

your thoughts are interrupted by the familiar sound of the elevator and you turn your head on impulse. you watch as a familiar head emerges covered by a hood. when he sees you he smiles and you visibly see him pick up his pace. he leans over the side of the couch, “couldn’t wait either, huh?”

“no,” you mumble, eyes following him as he rounds the couch and collapses beside you. immediately he hooks an arm around your knees, “how was dinner?”

“oh, gourmet. snuck you a piece of cake,” he reaches into the pocket of his sweatpants and pulls out a piece of cake that looked similar to a one dollar bill. his cheeks flush, “oops.”

“i really do want to know how you got it smushed down like this, but at the same time i feel like i’m better off not knowing,” you take the cake from his hand and set it down on the table in front of you. “i’m sure it tasted great when it was at its full size.”

“i- you’re just going to have to take my word for it,” he shrugs his shoulders and nods towards the tv, “what program do they have for us tonight?”

“i don’t know, some sitcom,” you lean towards him and send him a smirk, “but it’s your turn to be the big spoon.”

he rolls his eyes and opens his arms for you, “that’s all that you care about, huh?”

“i mean you crushed my surprise cake, the least you can do is cuddle me, cut,” you tilt your head to look at him before puckering your lips. he presses his to your gently and you smile, hugging his waist, “love you.”

“love you more.”

you sit like that for a while, both of you letting out the occasional laugh when something happens on the tv, but besides that you stay in peaceful silence. this is how you had spent the last few nights in halifax, after the team retired to bed cutter would sneak down to the lobby to meet you and you would spend hours down here just being together. it was easy, it was comfortable. there were no cares in the world.

that was until there was the ding of the elevator that you think nothing of until a familiar voice calls out “gauthier!” and you both look up to see your older brother barreling towards the two of you.

“luke-” you try to stop him, putting your hand on cutter’s chest to push yourself up but luke has none of that.

“so this is where you’ve been going?” his face gets redder and you hold out a hand.

“can you be quiet please?” you turn your head towards the receptionist's desk to make sure that he wasn’t causing any unnecessary attention but they seemed to be in their little world. “and what are you talking about?”

“it’s like every other weekend you just disappear and no one knows where you are. you don’t respond to anyone’s calls, anyone’s texts,” he sends cutter a sharp look and you squeeze his hand, “because you’ve been going to boston, huh? that’s what this is.”

“i mean- yeah,” you shrug your shoulders because there was no way that you could hide it any longer. “if it’s any consolation, we waited until you were done with the program before we started anything.”

luke’s eyes only get wider, “why would that be any consolation whatsoever?”

“so we weren’t technically going behind your back because you weren’t there,” cutter offers and luke rolls his eyes, “i’m sorry.”

“you will be-”

“no, he won’t. this is why i wasn’t going to tell you, luke, because i knew that you were going to blow it up into something that it’s not,” you sigh. you spare cutter a glance to find him staring down at his lap and you shake your head, “listen, we’ve been fine this entire time with you not knowing and now that you do know, i’m not letting you ruin this for me. i’m happy, he’s happy. i can make you a fucking excel spreadsheet about it if you want me to.

“but what’s it really hurting, luke? after this, you guys probably won’t be teammates again. we- we love each other and that’s just something that you’re going to have to deal with.”

“i just-” he rubs his hands over his face, “why him? you couldn’t have picked another sport or some guy you found at skeeps drunk off his ass.”

“no, because we’ve been together since senior year.”

“senior year- okay, i need time to process this,” he takes a deep breath and you really wanted to hurt cutter for letting that piece of information slip. luke closes his eyes and holds up a hand like a judgemental parent, “i’m accepting it, not because i want to, but because she’s making me. i swear though, if you kiss around me or any form of affection whatsoever-”

“we get it,” you nod, “you can go to bed now.”

“oh i don’t think i’ll ever be able to sleep again,” he grumbles, swiping your squished cake off of the table and marching towards the elevators mumbling to himself, “senior year? senior year?!”

you turn to look at your boyfriend who looks like he wants to crawl into a hole at that moment, “we could’ve kept that part a secret.”

“i realize that now.”

requests are closed!

[armpirate]

UNDER HIS SKIN || JJK || Ch. 16

Pairings: tattoist!jk x fem!reader

Genre: smut, angst, friends to lovers, tattoo au, virgin reader.

Summary: They say there are two versions for every story, and it's important to hear both of them. Everybody is hearing your side of the story, but it's just fair to get to know his.

After breaking up with his girlfriend, the only thing he wanted was to have fun with no attachment. You wanted to get rid of your virginity, and he wanted to tick you off his list. What he didn't expect was getting so emotionally attached to you that he would regret the deal.

Warnings: mutual masturbation, fingering, handjob, dirty talk

Previous || Next

MASTERLIST

I don't know at what moment we grew closer to each other, but it just happened. But texts and calls were more usual at some point. Actually, it was weird if we went a day without texting each other. Thinking of it right now... I don't think we've gone a day without talking to each other at all.

Just yesterday we were hanging out at her house because I had no customers and she wasn't going to work yet. With no deep reason at all, nothing related to the deal. We just hung out and spent some time together.

She frowns when she isn't able to tell who's the person calling her while we both were trying to guess who was the murderer in that episode. I mute the whole thing, just so she's able to speak and understand everything the other person is saying, when I realize the call might last longer than just a few seconds.

Y/n first frowns, but soon her face lights up and she literally jumps over the couch to get something to write on.

—Thank you so much —I hear her say excitedly, while her back is turned at me—. Thank you so much! —she repeats— I'll see you tomorrow.

She jumps excited in that spot, her oversized t-shirt bouncing with every move, until she turns to me again with a wide smile.

—What was it? —I ask when she doesn't say a word.

—Hmm —she walks back to the couch—. You might be talking to the future designer in JP Motors.

I remember how excited she looked when she first received the call, and how soon all that excitement turned into anxiety and nervousness because she thought she wouldn't be able to pass the interview.

And probably that's why I couldn't help but think about it all morning. The client I'm tattooing hasn't spoke a single word in the four hours I've been tattooing his leg, which makes me wonder if he had fallen asleep. When I peek, trying to see a glimpse of his face, he caught me on the spot.

—Is everything okay? —I rush to ask, trying to hide the fact that I was indeed looking at him out of curiosity.

The man plays with his long beard, nodding. His rough expression doesn't really tell me much. There's no pain, no suffering. So I guess everything is indeed okay.

Before I go back to the tattoo, I look at the digital clock hanging over the mirror in my room. Y/n must be in that interview already...

—Give me one second.

Again, the man doesn't say anything, he just nods and lets me go. Rolling on the chair a few meters away, I stand up and turn to my phone placed on the desk I usually work at when Y/n isn't around. I know it's too early to ask, but I ask her how the interview went, after I send her a "Good luck" sticker -there's only a few seconds of difference between each message, but meh.

Going back to work, I give the tattoo the final details before it's finally done.

—What do you think? —I ask, when he stands up and looks at himself in the mirror.

Puckering his lips, that are barely visible over his thick red beard, he finally nods and raises his thumb. No word again.

I invite him to lead me outside so he can pay for the service, but my phone shakes in my hand when I'm about to cross the door. I see Y/n has replied to my text after thirty minutes, so probably she's done with her interview already.

As soon as I see Mark resting on the counter, I encourage the client to get to him since he'll be the one in charge of the transaction.

—Cool —he finally says.

I'd be freaking out by hearing his voice for the first time in five hours, but I'm too focused on the phone that it seems it might melt if I don't read her text as soon as possible. Carefully, I close the door to my room and rest my body back on the chair I've been sitting on for five hours.

Cocktease: Seems like I'll be serving drinks a little longer

Me: Their loss

Cocktease: Thats what losers say to comfort themselves

Me: I was just tryna be nice 🥺

And while it's true, I don't want her to overthink what happened. Sometimes, some opportunities just aren't for you, and it doesn't mean you're bad or anything. It just means that wasn't the chance you should take.

Cocktease: What is Mr. Nice doing?

Although that text makes me smile, I know it wasn't because of it, but everything that's behind it. Her cocky attitude and ironic smile while she was typing those words after I made the last comment.

She asks, and I do. I send her a picture of where I am, but of course that isn't enough for me. Because right after I send the pic, I open my contacts list -although I don't need to look too much because her name is at the top of the list, on the "Favorite contacts" list, in between my sister and Tae.

—I've been tattooing a cobra for almost five hours —I comment as soon as she picks up.

—Cobra as in the tattoo or a body part?

—Oh... Oh —I lower my voice when I understand the meaning of her words—. Dirty mind, I see. There's no better way to cope with rejection.

When I turn to look at myself in the mirror, I find my reflection with a stupid smile that makes me cringe as soon as I'm aware, and that suddenly disappears.

—You know what's better to cope with rejection? Not being reminded you were rejected —she sighs—. But thank you for trying.

Looking away from my reflection after I hear her say that, I feel bad for her. She seemed so excited yesterday when she got the call, just to be rejected the next day.

—So... are you done? —she asks out of nowhere— I mean, do you have more customers?

We haven't known each other for too long, but by the tone in her voice, I know she doesn't really care. And I understand that, she's just trying to divert the topic from something that hurt her, and I don't doubt to play along.

—Not until four —I groan, as I feel the muscles on my back stretch as I sit properly—. I think I'll go to the gym, grab something for lunch and come back. Mark is here anyway. What about you?

—I'll prepare lunch and get ready for work.

—I thought you were on your off day.

—I wish —she laughs—. Still three days left for my weekend. But it's alright, I could be doing worse.

I'm about to cheer her up, but she cuts me up before I'm able to speak. Y/n lets me know she needs to hang up, and before I can even say goodbye, I hear that annoying piping on the line.

✸ ✸ ✸

I get off work quite early, and my plan is going directly back home. No stops anywhere. Just head straight back home. But something makes me shift my plans. I sit on my motorbike, one foot on the pedal and the other finding balance on the pavement, when I remember the sound of her voice earlier today. For the past twenty minutes I was able to get rid of her, but now that I'm alone again, I go back to thinking too much about it -just like I've been doing all day since I called her.

Fuck, I shouldn't have called her.

I try to think how I can comfort her. And my mind is only able to think about sugar. It's what cheers me up when I'm off, so maybe it'd help her, too.

A quick stop at one of those gummy shops, and I have a plastic bag filled with any type of sweets. At first, I think of picking her up at work, like I've already done a few times, but I remember that Tam might be there tonight, and it'd be weird if I show up there for no reason at all -other than seeing Y/n.

So I make my way to her house, and decide to wait for her there -which is another bad idea, since she won't get there until she's done with work, and that could end up with me waiting for her for three hours.

But I don't really mind it.

I get to her floor, after I made my way inside thanks to one of her neighbors coming out as soon as I arrived, and just sit on the stairs next to her door. It's my time to level up on the games I've left aside for weeks -or months.

I have no idea how long I'm playing, sitting there. And I've lost count of all the times I looked to the other side of the stairs, excited every time I heard footsteps somewhere. Until one of those footsteps is indeed hers.

Y/n is looking down, dragging her feet over the last step of the stairs, with a tired expression letting me know she's had a rough day. Although it disappears as soon as she looks up and finds me. Her lips pucker, and her head is slightly tilted as she tries to question why I'm standing in front of her door.

—You sounded off on the phone this morning —I start explaining before she can even ask—. So I bought some sweets —I raise the plastic bag filled with striking coloured candy—, and drove here.

Something in the way she looks at me shifts when I say all that. Her eyes soften to my comment, and a tiny smile appears on her face -something that would be impossible to notice for someone that doesn't know her.

After I come in, I close the door behind me and just follow her around, although she disappears shortly after to get changed. I set everything, moving the table a bit forward so I can sit on the floor, and use the couch as a backrest.

When Y/n joins me, she sits on my right.

—There was this movie announced the other day —I bring it up, when I think she's about to speak about that damned interview—. Let's watch it.

Truth is, I did see it announced the other way as I was zipping through channels, trying to find something nice to watch. The topic of the movie aligns with what we have going on, and it's a nice movie that will help her think about something else.

—Have you come over to do a teaching class?

She jokes, and I'm completely aware that she's looking at me with one of those killing smiles.

I shush her, avoiding making any type of eye contact with her, while my eyes are fixed on the TV in front of us.

Although I've tried my best to keep the focus on the screen, because I came here just to cheer her up, I can't help but turn my face to her a few times. The move of her lips as she chews on the gummy bear, how she traces her lower lip with her tongue when she's done... All of her is driving me insane. So when she picks up the gummy bear with her left hand, I move faster and hold her wrist between my fingers, redirecting her digits to my teeth so I can take the gummy bear away from her.

—I've only eaten two of...

I don't let her say anything else, because my lips collide against her before she's able to say anything else, moving the gummy bear from my mouth to hers as we kiss. She lowly gasps, and the way she sucks on my lower lip when I break the kiss just screams how she doesn't give zero fucks about the movie and just wants the kiss to keep going.

I go back to my place, thinking that a kiss would be enough for me. Oh, but how wrong I was... The taste of her spit mixed with the pineapple taste of the gummy bear was way too good to be able to think about anything else.

But she's able to make me think about something else when we reach the part of the movie where Gerard Butler confesses why he doesn't do relationships, and I feel her eyes falling on me instantly -even if that wasn't her intention.

—You want to know, don't you? —I turn to her with a funny smile, although deep inside I'm praying she doesn't make me talk about it.

—No —she frowns, and shakes her head—. But... if you feel like sharing.

And that's a yes.

I chuckle, finding her cute although I'm going to open up about something that fucked me up for months. I turn to her, knowing damn well this will be the most vulnerable I'll feel with a woman that isn't my sister.

—It was just one.

Leslie.

I tilt my head as her voice starts sounding real, as if she were begging for me to forgive her right now, while she started picking her things up from our shared apartment. I try to sum up everything that happened in a matter of ten minutes, and later two rough days, into a short sentence that won't last even a second.

—And she cheated on me. I loved her more than she loved me. Simple as that. After five years of dating, instead of breaking up with me, she started seeing one of my customers. She only said she didn't want to hurt me, but she wasn't feeling the same way. Living together, working together... It wore her out.

Sometimes I wonder if I was too oppressive, if I lost her because I didn't give her enough space and that's why she felt the need to find that space somewhere else. If everything that happened in those five years, and our routine, was the only thing at fault for the distance that grew in between us and that led her to mess with some other guy.

When I look up, I see Y/n totally lost in her own thoughts. Eyebrows frowned, and lips forming a thin line, as she probably tries to find some sense in what happened.

—Chill, cocktease. Last time I saw that look, you threw a shoe at my head —I click my tongue—. And it's not like you have any reasons to be looking this way.

—I'm just annoyed. That's it —she shrugs—. I can't stand lies, and I always get worked up when something similar happens in movies or shows.

I guessed so.

—You look cute when you're annoyed —I move my thumb across the frowned space between her eyebrows, trying to make those wrinkles disappear.

—Huh, so that's why you always try to piss me off.

I think... But I'm not actually thinking about what she's just said. I'm thinking about how close we are right now, and how tempting her lips are looking right now.

Fuck it.

I lean a bit more, enough for my lips to cover hers again gently, although she doesn't seem to want to go slow by the way she pulls me by the neck and hides her fingers in between my locks, giving me goosebumps that run all over my spine.

The kiss is sloppy and messy, but she tastes so good, she feels so good I can't stop right now. I only break the kiss to talk to her, and make her the question we both want to hear at this exact moment. I can tell she's afraid of what i'm about to say when I break the kiss, but her looks change as soon as I speak.

—Can we go to your room? —I ask with a raspy voice.

I want it to happen, I want to do everything to her right now. But, at the same time, I'm scared she isn't sure and might regret what happens. And that sensation seems to grow bigger when we are both standing in front of her bed.

Those lips and tongue on my neck feel like a hot iron tracing my skin. I'm trying hard to control myself when one of her hands goes from my shoulders -where she was supporting herself on, as she stood on her tiptoes- to my pants to unzip them. I help her, bending to take my pants off, and my sweatshirt shortly after.

Her tongue traces her lower lip as her eyes disseminate my body, and I can't wait to look at her the same way.

I step closer to her, able to kiss her cheek and jaw softly, as I get rid of her comfy shirt. And no one's skin has looked so bright and delicate as hers. I trace her collarbone, moving my digit down her chest -in between those covered tits I'm desperate to suck on-, and going lower to her pants after controlling myself like I've never done before.

I do just as she did. I tower over her, leaning my body slightly to reach her earlobe -moving her locks behind her ear-, so I can play with all the sensitive spots she seems to have there. Just a gentle touch from my fingers and she's already gasping for air.

—Wait —she stops me, when I finally get rid of her pants—. I know it'll sound dumb, but I don't...

—You aren't ready? —I finish for me—. It's okay —she stops me from stepping back, holding my arm.

—It's not that. I'm not ready for that.

I see her moving her head, trying to let me know what she means, although I'm kinda clear on what she's talking about. Of course she isn't ready to fuck yet.

—But I want to do something else. I want you to touch me —she whispers, some tints of shyness adorning her words—, and I want you to teach me how to touch you.

I think I know what we could do, so I point with my head towards the bed. Even if she seems to be okay with it, I still ask her many times whether she's ready or not, always making sure she knows she can stop whenever she feels like it.

—If you want to stop, just say it, okay? —I let her know, as I see her lying in the middle of her bed.

I join her, kneeling in front of her body when she finally nods. But it's not until she starts stripping that I'm aware that maybe the one that isn't ready it's me. Y/n takes her bra and panties off calmly, breathing turning heavy when she finally looks at me with her cheeks slightly blushed. I can feel my dicks twitch inside my boxers when I see her perking nipples on full display, just imagining the rugosity of her buttons is driving me crazy. And that mixed with the fact that her legs are still rubbing closer, hiding her core from me... I don't think I'm strong enough.

I get naked with her, taking off my boxers under her attentive gaze. Her eyes go a bit wide when she finally sees me completely naked, and her lips travel in between her lips to wet them. I move her right thigh lower so I can straddle it, and finally catch a glimpse of her wet pussy.

I hold my cock with my left hand, while the other one massages her left thighs, pushing it away so her legs are completely spread and she's finally open for me.

—Put your fingers around me.

I try not to choke on my own spit when I finally feel her fingers around me. And even if I want her to move it, I stop her to spit close to her fingers so she has some lube to work on. I motion her hand under mine on my cock, letting her know how to start, how to make me feel good. Y/n is so distracted from pleasuring me, that she isn't aware of how close I'm getting to her core until my palm is completely covering it.

My fingers slide through her folds, from her entrance to her clit, spreading her juices before I start teasing it with two of my fingers.

—Have you ever touched yourself? —she nods.

My fingers go down her pussy again, finding her tight hole. I tease her, moving my digit in circles to get her ready, until she lifts her hips and commands me to invade her. The moment I slide in, her fingers wrap around my shaft tighter, making both of us moan.

Her walls embrace my fingers perfectly, and I can tell she has never done much more than fingering herself with one finger -or, at most, two- when touching herself.

—You're so tight —I groan, sliding my finger until it's knuckles deep inside her.

I move in sync with her hand, giving to the both of us the best simulation, it almost feels as we were fucking each other right now. The pleasure in her eyes, when Y/n finally looks at me is indescribable.

I stretch her out, enough to add a second finger that makes her lips press on each other harder, the moan getting stuck in her throat.

—You're working on my cock so well —with my free hand, I reach her face, my thumb pushing her lower lip so her mouth is parted and I can hear her gasps—. Let me hear you. Let me know how good I'm being to you.

My left hand travels from her jaw and neck to her tits, touching them as gently as I'm able to right now, while my fingers curl inside of her. I finally hear a moan from her, that only encourages me to keep moving on that spot a few more times. Her legs spread wider, and her thigh caged between my legs rubs and pressed against my balls. And fuck ain't that hot. And she knows it, because she keeps that pressure and moves on my loaded balls while her hand moves faster on my cock.

—Jungkook —I move my fingers faster, making the wet sounds that come from her pussy completely audible for the two of us—. Fuck, you're so good.

Her pussy clenches around my fingers after a few more minutes, and I know she's about to get there. I want her to get there. My thumb works on her needy clit, while my fingers thrust into her fast, making her tits bounce with the movement.

She lets a loud moan fill the room when she cums, back arching and eyes going blank as her free hand holds onto the sheets while the other holds onto my cock. And that image is the only thing I need to cum all over her.

—Oh fuck —I moan.

But after a few seconds enjoying the feeling of my high, and her hand still on my cock, I'm aware that I've actually cummed all over her, my load is on her belly.

—Oh fuck —I repeat, but this time I'm concerned.

I move away from her, taking my fingers out as carefully as I can before I get to her bathroom. I first clean my fingers, and walk back to her.

—I'm sorry —I apologize, joining her on the bed again.

—It's alright —she assures me, while I start cleaning her up—. It's okay —she says again, before I'm able to speak.

—You were really good —I wipe the toilet paper over her sensitive core, the gentle rub making her body shake slightly while I clean her up.

Everything is fine until this time comes. I threw the paper away, and it's time to throw myself away as well.

Should I get home? Should I spend the night here? I know that's a really bad idea.

She wouldn't be the first girl I spend the night with, and wake up next to, but something about her being the girl I'd wake up next to makes me feel uneasy. It gives this whole thing a whole new level of intimacy I don't think I'm ready to reach, which is ironic considering my fingers were deep in her not even five minutes ago.

—You can stay the night —she assures me.

I'm about to agree, but I just shake my head and start picking my clothes up. I'm running away again.

—It'll be better if I sleep back home —I dress up.

I know she's confused about this, I'm confused about this myself, but I think it's the best for the two of us. I walk to her, and lean over her body to kiss her head before I leave.

[dovithedarklord]

Age of Mosters - Chapter Two

Pairing: OFC x Simon "Ghost" Riley, OFC x König

Tags: Slow Burn, Slow Build, Enemies to Lovers, Alternate Universe, Blood and Gore, Blood and Violence, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, POV First Person, Not Beta Read, Medical Inaccuracies, Military Inaccuracies, AFAB OC

Trigger Warning: The story will contain violance, blood and smut in detail. Please, keep that in mind!

⚠️MDNI⚠️

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Author's Note

Finally, the small team enters the picture, and it becomes clear how Leona's failed escape attempt continues.

I apologize for any possible mistakes, but my eyes can't find the typos when I go through the text for the twentieth time... so sorry!

The chapter is still kind of an introduction... but everything will start over time ;)

Leona calls everyone by their last name, so it might be weird for a while if you're used to the characters' callsigns/nicknames. But for now, it didn't seem natural :)

(I proofread myself before posting, so sorry if there are mistakes! I write the story in my language first, and I translate it after. English is not my first language, so help is welcomed! Just be nice, please!)

if you're interested you can find the story on AO3: Chapter Two

..................................................................

I press my lips into a thin line as I stare at the door in front of me, my legs bouncing nervously under the table where I've been sitting silently for at least an hour now. The sound of the clock ticking on the wall feels almost ear-piercing in the silence of the empty room, and I feel my patience running thin with each click. I would prefer to run amok and smash the fucking uncomfortable chair against the wall, but my hands that are cuffed to the table stop me from doing so thankfully. Of course, I also know that my temper tantrum wouldn't make any difference because I successfully got caught anyway, and breaking and crushing things wouldn't change that. What I would achieve with it at most is that they’d get another dose of that very premium stuff, which got me here in the first place.

I spent at least seven of the last twelve hours completely knocked out, and maybe it was better when the outside world seemed like a distant nightmare. Because when I finally regained consciousness strapped to a white hospital bed, the memories quickly returned to my head and I realized that I was sinking into the shit I caused for myself. Even though I tried - rather stupidly - to escape by stunning the two enforcers, I should have expected that even if they didn't know what I was capable of, they wouldn't send just two people to catch an Extreme. If nothing else, the simple fact that it is extremely rare to find one of my kind justifies their caution. I should have known from the moment I saw the lab results. But panic clouded all my judgment to such an extent that I attacked and fled like a startled wild animal. It was embarrassingly easy for them to hunt me down.

My mind still fills with helpless rage and disappointment as I think back on the chain of events that destroyed my carefully constructed disguise, life, and everything, that I had built for the last twelve years. How could I have been so stupid to not pay attention to the camera on the other side of the street? How could I possibly be such a gigantic idiot that I didn't check how many friends the bastard had before I took him out for a snack? If his little friend hadn't been in a hurry to find him, there wouldn't have been a single problem. But then he came after his bestie, I killed him, and now I'm sitting in a fucking interrogation room, handcuffed to a table. Of course, no one said a word about what was going to happen, they took care of my injuries and transported me here in careful silence, I suspect in order to unsettle me and to make me agree as willingly as possible to whatever stupid offer they have in store for me. And as sickening as it is to admit it, they are not far from succeeding.

It was clear from the first moment after I woke up that they do not intend to throw me in prison or execute me, because then they wouldn’t have wrapped my injuries in gauze with such tenderness, and my pretty little body in a foreign uniform. Of course, I should be happy that my earthly career does not end so abruptly and early, but I know very well that if anyone walks through the door of the room and makes any "offer", I won’t be in any position to refuse. From here, the road only leads to an even deeper sea of shit. And now, for the first time, I regret that my lust for blood won and I hunted someone down because of it. I would have been better off tossing and turning in my bed, on the verge of unconsciousness. Then the ticking of the fucking clock wouldn't drive me crazy.

But before I could drive myself deeper into madness, the white door in front of me opens with a soft creak, and I stop my restless legs and straighten up in my chair with my light eyes on the arriving stranger. A woman in her forties enters the room, her hair resting in a neat bun on the back of her head, her hard gaze directed at me only shaded by her light locks. Her face says nothing as she looks at me while closing the door behind her, but it's very clear from her firm steps that she doesn't see me as a threat. And why would she? I’m like a snake whose venomous teeth have been pulled out.

My tongue unconsciously runs along the sharp curve of my canines, and it still fills me with a sense of loss that I'm not feeling the cheap plastic of artificial teeth. Perhaps the confiscation of the tools that served as my disguise affected me even more sensitively than my capture. By the time I woke up, both my contact lenses and veneers were gone, and I felt naked and defenseless for the first time in years. I’m not ashamed of any of my physical features, even those that are characteristics of my kind, but I hate that this intimate secret of mine has become a public spectacle and information. But after all, that's what happens when one plays with fire. When you burn yourself, your own misery hurts all the more.

Of course, I can't deny that it filled me with morbid joy when the doctors or the enforcers carefully avoided my gaze after they recognized the meaning of my vertical pupils. I prefer to feel like a predator than a prey. Even if here and now the reality couldn’t be further from it.

"Good afternoon, Miss Woods. How was your sleep?" The woman inquires comfortably, her voice surprisingly pleasant and warm, despite the serious expression on her features. A small ironic smile tugs at the corners of my mouth involuntarily, because I find it extremely comical how she starts with the kind of conversation normal between two neighbors when she’s about to interrogate me. I guess this will be the good cop, bad cop lineup. I just have to wait for the bad cop to appear now.

"Great. Thank whoever shot me with the splendid narcotic on my behalf. I haven't rested this well in years. " I comment while I keep a close eye on every little movement the woman makes in the meantime, searching for any sign that could lead to more information.

"Don't worry, you will have the opportunity to do it yourself." She answers, and I don't like the way an inexplicably sweet expression appears on her face, which makes my eyes narrow in suspicion. "My name is Kate Laswell. I'd like to say I'm glad to meet you, but I suspect it wouldn't be mutual." She continues, taking a seat across from me and placing a thick folder on the table. I take a quick glance at it, and just one look at the logo on it is enough for me to know that this lady did not come from the official government agencies. And this fills me with mixed feelings at best, because no privately owned organization that cooperates with enforcers has a good reputation, neither in this colony nor in the other fifty-seven remaining in the world. Because they are the ones who usually go on missions from which people return in several pieces. IF they return.

When she gets no reaction from me to her statement, she just opens the heavy file with a tired sigh to reveal such a quantity of documents that makes me wonder how much information the enforcers have collected about me in such a short time. It's clear that she's familiar with every detail that’s in it, yet she skims through the first couple of pages one last time, only to then lean forward in her chair with her eyes raised to me.

"I don't want to waste time, so I'll get straight to the point." She interlocks her fingers together on the table, giving the impression that what she is about to say is of great importance, which I do not doubt. "You have concealed your status as an Extreme Healer until now, which is not only illegal but also dangerous. Presumably, similarly to the current case, you illegally fed on civilians on several occasions, knowing that you could only officially do so under the supervision of Hunters and with their help. You refused your duty to Colony No. 17 and failed to fulfill your responsibilities as a Healer, thus hindering the work of the official bodies and the Hunters, which protect the colony. On top of all that, you committed murder and violence against official personnel. And there is reason to assume that it was not the first time."

"You summed it up quite nicely." I add appreciatively because I’m completely aware of the meaning behind every single word she uttered. I chose this path consciously and I have not regretted for a minute the freedom I have enjoyed because of it. She doesn't seem amused by the lightheartedness with which I responded to my criminal record, her face furrows in worry as she draws her elegant eyebrows together.

"Miss Wood, I wouldn't take these accusations lightly if I were you." She warns me sternly, with the same tone one would reprimand a messy child. There's an edge to her voice that tells me she's experienced in giving orders and is used to disciplining unruly elements like me.

"I’m not. But I won't argue with the facts." I shrug, leaning back in my chair because at this point I've given up on trying to put on any of my masks. This woman would probably see right through it anyway. Because she's been analyzing me in the same exact way I've been examining her ever since she came here.

Short silence settles in the room as we stare at each other, and I'm waiting for her to finally stop beating around the bush and blurt out the real reason behind her arrival. Reviewing my past actions served no other purpose than to clarify what cards she had to corner me. Under normal circumstances, everyone would be shocked when their lies and misdeeds are exposed and they are openly confronted with the skeletons hiding in their closet. But it doesn't affect me. Every day and minute, I was fully aware of every risk and sin. And they were all surprisingly easy to live with after a while.

"In this situation, unfortunately, you don't have much choice regarding the future." She breaks the silence and continues to keep her eyes on mine, and with this, she silently tells me that I better pay attention to what she’s about to say. I'll give her my full attention in return because ever since my fucking eyes opened in this damned place, I've been waiting for someone to fill me in about what's next. The insecurity burns me now more than any crime I had ever committed, the feeling of uncertainty akin to a rusty knife twisting into my skull, digging deeper and deeper into my brain. "I'm not going to sugarcoat it. You have two options. Based on the charges listed against you, one of them is execution." She attacks right away, and I feel the air stuck inside of my lungs almost painfully because I know that this would be the easier solution. This would be the logical, orderly, and fast route that I would deserve, and which might seem better than the other option. But I won't choose that. And she knows that exactly.

"And what would be the other option?" I inquire, and I hate how the barely perceptible, ridiculously faint fear moves into my voice, which no one else would be able to pick up, but I know from the expression on the woman's face that I’m not able to fool her.

"You join Liquidation Unit 141 as a member and official Healer to pay for his crimes." She strikes mercilessly and immediately hits the target because I freeze in silence and stare at her, like someone who’s seen a ghost. Of course, it would be foolish to say that I didn't know this was coming, but as her words fully sink in, the whole situation suddenly becomes reality. Even I am surprised by how, despite the gloominess of the situation, I burst out laughing, and I wonder if maybe I still have some of the drugs they used to knock me out in my bloodstream. The development of the events leading up to this moment seems so ironic, that just because I couldn't control my fucking hunger and chose dinner from the wrong menu, now all my efforts have been in vain. Because some stupid bastard was worried about his buddy and because karma put the only camera on the street that takes a sharp picture. Everything I've been trying so desperately to avoid is happening. What fucking luck I have.

"What’s your answer?" Comes the question from the woman, but I know that it doesn't matter what I say. Because we both know I'm not crazy and brave enough to choose death. I am selfish, and I would rather cling to life, no matter how sinister and unfavorable the future may seem. Because as long as I live, I have a chance to escape. Until I don't die, I have the possibility to be free again.

"I hope you won't regret this deal, Laswell." I speak up finally, and I don't need to explain any further for her to know what decision I have reached. "Because I've been on my best behavior until now. I'm not sure I'll continue to feel the urge to be a good girl." I lean forward, pulling my lips into a dark little grin, because the pride in me won't let me appear crushed and desperate as I go down and get defeated. And since she seems like a decent woman, I'll be fair. Better to warn her that it won't be an easy ride if it's up to me.

But when a knowing smile curls onto her lips, and for a minute I regret that I tried to provoke her. Because a chill runs down my spine from the unrecognizable sparkle that appears in her blue eyes.

"Don’t worry. I expected this and you will be in very good hands."

⃰*

If I had first doubted whether Laswell's threat was empty, I was now sure that she had no intention of leaving up to chance how well I would behave. With a frustrated sigh, I try to wrestle myself into a slightly more comfortable position in the back seat of the jeep, but it’s rather difficult because with my hands cuffed behind my back, no situation seems less uncomfortable than the previous one.

I might consider it a little excessive that she incapacitated me to such a degree, but I have to admit that I gave her a reason to be uncertain about my intention to cooperate. Of course, despite this, the mask that tightly covers my mouth, which ensured my silence from the start, still seems a little ridiculous. What did she believe? That I going to throw myself at her and rip her throat out? She should know that my kind doesn't bite just on a whim, because it is such an intimate and dangerous moment that I have rarely been willing to do in my life so far. It leaves an easily recognizable mark, but it isn't my first choice because of its other unpleasant side effects either. And now I can't let my guard down because of said side effects. It's not worth it all.

The whole journey passes quietly, which gives me enough time to reflect on the recent events. After our small talk, Laswell got into the car without wasting another word, stating that the sooner I got to my new home, the better for everyone. I managed to find out that the base where her unit was supposed to be stationed was located outside the colony, which immediately made me wonder how much better it would be for me to find myself outside the walls of the well-protected and secured city. But luckily, the woman was kind enough to reassure me that there was nothing to worry about, the base is in the yellow zone, so even though we have to venture outside the colony, the chance of mutants appearing is very small. And anyway. Her people have everything under control, there is not the slightest reason for concern.

It is really not that easy to explain this to someone who was already born in the green zone that provides security and has never left it. After all, you can hear nothing else from the radio, other than cautious warnings telling the residents not to leave the walls protecting the city, because only certain death awaits there. Of course, realistically, I know that the yellow zone is still close enough that there is little risk of attacks, but it is also close enough to the orange and red zones that the possibility of danger is not zero. And if the chance is not zero, it is not certain.

The car comes to a slow halt and that disturbs me from my musings, and as I look out the windshield window and see the long line of walls bordered by barbed wire, the nervousness caused by the hopeless situation that I thought had left my body awakens in me. But it seems that there are still enough surprises for me to get excited about. Hooray!

We arrive at the facility's only entrance, and after a brief greeting and presentation of Laswell's identification card to the guards, she drives on, and an almost irritatingly bubbly and busy-looking base opens up in front of me, and I wonder how many people do they want to entrust to my care. But after the first glance, I can tell that a significant portion of the soldiers are not Hunters, because they look too human and weak for that, and they lack the dangerous aura that can only be a characteristic of a Hunter. It's not like I've met that many Hunters in my life, but everyone knows exactly by what physical characteristics can you spot the heroic vanquishers of mutant monsters right away. And after the first Hunters "awakened" fifty years ago, such an amount of data has been collected that a picture of them immediately pops into one’s head after they hear the name.

"We've arrived." Laswell suddenly steps on the brakes, and I straighten up in my seat to prepare for what will follow. I ran a few possible scenarios through my head, evaluating just how difficult this job would be considering that the only other alternative left was death. And I came to the conclusion that the only options left are those with which karma will kick me where it hurts the most. If I'm fortunate, all I have to do is tend to the Hunters' injuries and regenerate them from time to time when they get close to insanity. If I'm out of luck, they can throw anything at me from annoying to deadly. So I'm pretty sure I can't expect anything good, but maybe I can be a little grateful that I'm alive. I'm sure I'll find something sickeningly beautiful even in this miserable shit. After all, hope and the motivation to survive are the last to die.

Laswell jumps out of the car, picks up her small bag resting on the passenger seat, and steps back, and as she opens the door for me, I am almost touched by how gently she grabs my arm and tries to make it easier for me to get out of the vehicle without my hands. She's certainly not only doing it because she still harbors that small irrational fear that my stunt with the enforcers will happen again, and I skip off. Certainly not.

"My team is waiting for you inside. I thought it would be a good idea for you to meet everyone you'll be working closely with at the same time." She explains as she guides me towards the entrance of the huge building located in the middle of the base, and I decide that I will not give up my pride despite the tight spot I got myself in. I will not give anyone the pleasure of playing the role of a terrified little mouse just because I got caught in a shamefully simple manner. Therefore, I straighten my back and follow the woman with the posture of a confident bad bitch, raising my head high, throwing my brown locks back as if I had arrived at one of the red carpet events seen in the archives. After all, the soldiers loitering around stare at me as if a real star had set foot in their humble abode. And it might as well be the truth because I'm sure that even if the authorities stopped information from spreading about my fun little activities in the colony, news about me have already reached their ears. And if every wretched fool eyeballs me with such interest, I will give them the attitude that comes with this privileged position. Silly behavior, but at least guaranteed fun. And I'm afraid I'll have to entertain myself with these little pleasures for a long time.

It definitely should bother me how easily my stubbornness overcomes the fear in the pit of my stomach, but I think at this point it would be better if I let these unnecessary worries go. Because now I can't do anything else but let myself drift with the events. And there is nothing more comforting than delusional confidence. However, as soon as I get my hands on the right information, my brain can go into planning mode again, and I can start working on my escape.

The inside of the building looks like a complete maze, a long corridor after another endless one, rows of doors everywhere, and I try to look for easily identifiable reference points with furtive glances, although I assume that I will never be left unattended in the building if I just look at what precautions I have been treated with until now. It's not like I'll be able to just walk out the main entrance later, because a back exit, a hidden little window would be more suitable for my sweet escape. But unfortunately, I still have to wait for these delicacies. First, I put their suspicions to rest about the fact that these stray, sweet things even arise in my head.

Laswell suddenly stops in front of a door, and I know that now comes the main event, which makes the uncomfortable grip that is still settling in my stomach come to life again. Fixing my gaze on the back of my guide's head, I stop behind her as well, and for one last time, I repeat the mantra that has been circulating in my brain since I regained consciousness. I'll fix everything because I always have. There's no problem I can't overcome. And as the woman opens the door in front of me with a swift movement, and stands aside with a nod to indicate that I should get in, I obey and walk past her with light steps after I gain back my delusional determination from my small pep talk to myself.

I quickly scan the room, the huge screen on the wall, the large windows through which the afternoon sunlight shines warmly, and finally the huge table, at the end of which I find the people for whom I was probably brought here instead of the slaughterhouse. The door closes with a low creak after Laswell steps inside behind me, and with her hand, she gently nudges toward a chair at the other end of the table, and I lazily flop down in the crossfire of four pairs of eyes.

"You're late, Kate." Says the man sitting at the middle of the other end of the table, and as he raises his cigar to his mouth to take a puff in the most assertive way I've ever seen someone do it, the confident carelessness of a true Hunter radiates from him. But it doesn't escape my attention that the look of both interest and caution crosses his face framed by a thick beard as he studies me.

"Identification took a long time at the wall. It was not easy to bring our guest over." The woman nods her head towards me, and I only reward her explanation with a cursory glance, because she is indeed right. Everything was probably taken care of by the time we reached the gate leading out of the city, yet the soldiers standing guard there studied our documents with such fervor as if the woman wanted to smuggle something sketchy and of dubious origin. I felt sorry for her for a minute when she started a long argument with one of the guards, but this rare spark in my soul was fleeting, after all, I was much more occupied with my own misery. "Now I'm going to take off the mask and ask you not to do anything rash." Laswell turns to me, and I raise one of my eyebrows skeptically in response to her unreasonably cautious warning. Do I look like an absolute idiot to her?

As the woman reaches behind my head and begins to work on removing the mask that has been covering half my face, I take a closer look at the men sprawled at the table. Just as I could clearly tell in the courtyard that there was not a single Hunter among them, I can now state with the exact same certainty that all those present here are. At first glance, they are not just any Hunters, but all of them are at least S-class, it is enough to just observe their behavior. But as my eyes fall on one of the guys wearing a mask exuding a rather menacing and grim aura, who looks almost unbelievably huge, I realize that he must be an SSS-class big boy. In most cases, it is not possible to tell where a Hunter is between class F and A based on physical characteristics alone because over the years and with the development of their skills and their merits, they can rise between the levels. But only those who are born for it will rise to the S-class, especially to the SSS-class. There is no clear explanation as to what causes this anomaly, but the trigger of the appearance of the first infected mammalian lifeforms, or I.M.L.s, caused a stronger mutation in their case. Which made them more powerful, faster, and deadlier than their fellow Hunters. And from this sudden realization, for a moment, the wild joy I felt earlier wavers. As an Extreme I can kill with my ability, but the chances of me even laying a finger on any of them without their approval to use my little tricks is almost ridiculously low. No problem. I am here to be their Healer. And for that, they will have to let my sly little hands get close to them.

"Don't you think that you went a little bit overboard? What did you think I was going to do? That I'm going to bite someone?" I ask, squeezing every drop of irony into my voice, as the damned mask finally comes off me, and with my comment, I only get a reprimanding look from the woman.

"You’re here ’cause you’ve already done it, aren’t ya?" Comes the teasing question from one of the Hunters, and as I look toward him, somewhat of an eerie feeling starts to dawn in the hidden corners of my memories, as I run my eyes along his features. I would certainly remember it if I ever had the bad luck to meet a Hunter with a mohawk. Or any S-class Hunter for that matter.

"There's some truth to it. But I don't bite, I cut." I note cheekily, twisting my lips into a sarcastic little smile that has been waiting to appear ever since I set foot on the base. Of course, I know that I shouldn't provoke men who not only look dangerous, but undoubtedly are, but what are they going to do to me? In order for them to be able to use me, they need me mostly unharmed. Laswell, who may be in some leadership role, however strict she may appear, will not let them harm the new acquisition if she has gone through all the trouble to get it.

"You’ve already met Hunter MacTavish." Laswell motions her head towards the guy who is verbally trying me, and suddenly I get the feeling, like when the last missing piece of a puzzle falls into place and the picture gets complete. I immediately realize why his heavily accented voice sounds familiar, and as the recognition dawns on me, my face involuntarily breaks into a wide grin.

"You're the bastard who shot me!" The remark breaks out of me, and I can't understand why this causes me such joy. The fact that I'm in the same room as the person who's probably been tailing me since the very first moment after my slip-up just confirms the fact that Laswell tried to get a hold of me the minute the DNA test results were fresh and crisp. What could be the special extra problem with this team that makes them need a Healer so urgently? One, moreover, whom they are willing to save for themselves despite her status as a proven criminal. Interesting.

"I'm glad to meet you awake." The Hunter named MacTavish nods his head at me, with a grin on his face that makes me rightly assume that I'm not the only one who finds the situation morbidly intriguing.

"It reassures me that I didn't stand a chance. At least I don't have to lament on what would have happened if I managed to run off." I shrug as I lean back in my chair as far as my still shackled hands will allow. I'm serious about my little remark because it's now clear that I had no chance of escaping from the beginning. It's not like I had any brilliant ideas in case I managed to succeed, but would've found some clever solution.

"Don't even think about that now." Suggests Laswell, and for a moment she looks really worn out as she leans on the table with one palm and turns to my small audience. "We should rather spend our energy on getting to know each other. It's better to get over it as soon as possible. From left to right, Simon “Ghost” Riley." Begins Laswell, and then points to the man sitting on the far left of the table with her hand, who looks at me with his dark eyes so penetratingly that it gives me a visceral and instinctive feeling that something sinister is lurking behind his skull mask."John "Soap" MacTavish." For a change, the woman introduces my captor again, and the man continues to grin at me in an annoyingly good mood. "Our unit's captain, John Price." Laswell points to the guy with the cigar, who continues to puff, studying me, as if this situation were an everyday affair around here. "Kyle “Gaz” Garrick." Said person just greets me with a curt nod and looks at my modest person with cautious curiosity.

After lining up her small team, Laswell finally takes a seat at the table, with her job momentarily done, and from the bag she was carrying, she takes out the file again with which she had already delighted me earlier. However, instead of going through it probably for the thousandth time, she delivers it to the Hunters who are patiently waiting across the table with a firm push.

"Although I have already informed the team in broad terms about your situation, for the sake of completeness, I would like them to familiarize themselves with your material in detail. After all, you will be working with them from now on." The woman reminds me, and I pull the corner of my mouth with complete indifference as if this wasn't something that would determine the further development of my life. However, no matter how relaxed I may seem when each man takes out a page from my file and studies it with ever-deepening gloom, the restlessness in me stirs up again, which pushes my heart rate to unpleasant heights. If it didn't bother me before, how Laswell delved into the many misdeeds I'd committed, now it bothers me just as much as these dangerous strangers review the report that surely goes into every essential detail of my life. And maybe that's because while I was sure that I could take care of the woman at any time if the need arose, revealing my secrets would only put me at a disadvantage with those whose craft is killing. Up until now, I wanted to believe that they would still have blind spots regarding me because obviously, not a soul knows about the level to which I have developed my ability, but it is enough to focus on the furrowed brows of their captain, and it becomes painfully obvious that this futile hope of mine is about to come crashing down. Because this guy seems experienced enough to know when to dig deeper for answers.

A short but no less suffocating silence settles in the room, and to my surprise, Laswell seems much more worried than I am, although I'm sure that of the two of us, I have more reason to be on pins and needles. This again makes me wonder about what kind of unit it can be, where such detailed information is needed about a simple Healer, who in theory won't be responsible for anything other than nicely replenishing and pampering the Hunters when they drift to the brink of unquenchable aggression and bloodlust due to the exhaustion of their strength. You'd think it's a position that would require some reasonable attention, but not nearly as much as these five men are giving me right now.

"How did you manage to kill the victim found in the alley?" The captain asks, and I’ve almost waited in anticipation for him to start the interview. And after mentioning the incident, I'm overwhelmed with annoyance yet again. Of course, his interest is justified, because Healers cannot kill people, and according to general belief, neither can Extremes. But despite the fact that he asked this question out of curiosity for my nice little attraction, it still reminds me of the mistake that can only be attributed to my own feeble stupidity.

"I'm sure the autopsy provides enough information." I nudge my head at the stack of papers in front of him with a telling smile, and the man's eyes just narrow with beginning irritation at my answer. I don't really want to give out the rather sensitive data with which I still have a chance to surprise them, but I'm not so stupid to not know that the relatively friendly atmosphere can quickly take a strange turn if I don't start talking. I have no illusions that they can get what they want to know out of me if they want to. "I increased the pressure in his brain and caused him to have a seizure combined with a stroke, in which he died." I summarize briefly and to the point, and as they suddenly look at each other with a mixture of incomprehension and surprise, my twisted little soul fills with pride. Of course, I've never had the chance to brag to anyone about how I managed to perfect my skills through hard work and experimentation over the years, but deep inside, a pleasant warmth moves in my chest to see their jaws drop. Even though they will most certainly not let me near their body without increased supervision now.

"I thought Extremes were just Healers on steroids and were only capable of healing wounds and recharge Hunters." Garrick frowns in bewilderment, and his comment reflects the thoughts of his companions as well. It seems that even the well-informed Laswell is surprised by this newly discovered bit of information because her eyes meet with the captain's for a fleeting glance, and to me, this is just enough evidence that my dangerousness may not have been properly assessed by them. Of course, they could have thought that I couldn't be completely harmless based on the way I left the poor bastards behind the club.

"It's true for an average Healer." I lean forward with a mysterious smile because I would be in denial if I claimed that I don't gain any satisfaction from being able to momentarily shake such highly esteemed men out of their composure. I could be called an evil little pervert or a sneaky little bitch, but such small moments in life should be appreciated. "But in the case of people like me, the advantages also increase along with the disadvantages concerning nutrition." I sit back, as carelessly as if I wasn't still the biggest loser in the whole story. However, the fact that I managed to provide them with something unexpected does not mean anything. Because I just gave them one more reason, in addition to the countless other ones so far, to keep me on a short leash. I'm pretty sure I won't even be able to breathe innocently enough for them from now on. But if my freedom is already lost, let me at least have my petty joy.

"Would you elaborate?" Says Laswell, and I wasn't wrong in that she can hand out orders like a pro because the words uttered as a request sound more like an instruction. And before I speak, I contemplate how much detail I should go into. But considering that they already know how cleverly I can eliminate someone, there's not much point in hiding the details, because they'll figure out on their own that I can probably attempt more cunning magic tricks than this. And maybe it's better not to leave it up to chance because I have the sneaking suspicion that the more I leave everything to their imagination, the less time I will have to spend unsupervised from now on. And I don't like to give up my me-time.

"In an ideal case, even an average Healer is able to heal only by localizing injuries instead of full regeneration or regulating the energy they use to treat Hunters. Of course, they don't really like to teach this, because then, God forbid, they wouldn't be able to change the Healers every month, because they would be able to do their job more efficiently." I begin my little lesson, and I see how just by stating a simple fact I am straying into very dangerous territory, because the atmosphere of the room cools down in a minute, despite the heat of the incoming sun rays. It immediately becomes obvious that similar problems arise here as well. And suddenly I understand why they needed an Extreme with much higher endurance if the Healers are probably changed here as frequently as dirty underwear.

The generally negligent treatment of Healers and their lack of proper training is a sensitive topic for everyone involved, which both the Hunters and the government have tended to sweep under the rug ever since the entire system was set in place. And even though there are very few Hunters and half as many Healers, somehow no one is bothered by the fact that this is not a very successful story. That's why I've tried to remain invisible until now and to hide in the utmost secrecy because I knew that as soon as I immersed myself in this vaguely bubbling mess, I'd immediately be dragged up to my neck in it. Because it doesn't matter that I will last a somewhat longer, I doubt that they will appreciate me more.

"In the case of Extremes, I can only speak for myself. If I use my energy, I can accurately feel every organ, every muscle, bone, and every tiny vein, and control the flow, pressure, and density of the blood. Not only in Hunters." I continue my presentation, and the people present in the room show increasing degrees of surprise. "Of course, I can also use my energy to a greater extent than average Healers, for general and more complicated healing and regeneration. But perhaps everyone already knew this about my kind." I continue my explanation further, at the end of which I came close to the effect I hoped to achieve. Because I can see that I shut the words into them, if only for a minute, and this leaves me enough time to further study their reaction and wonder what they will do with the revealed information. And I don't have to be disappointed, because Price quickly adjusts his features and returns to the position that suggests that whatever happens, the control remains in his hands. How sad that my joy is always so short-lived.

"This is good news. We’ve been waiting for something like this for a long time." The captain folds his hands in front of his chest after briefly processing what he heard, and now it's my turn to carefully narrow my eyes. It's hard for me to imagine a reason that would make them believe that it's good news that they have to put their hands near a person who just turned out to be able to kill them in that exact way. "Based on experience so far, the unit's work has proven to be too dangerous for other Healers. I was afraid that we might have to deal with the same problem, but now we know, there is no need to fret. This makes field work child's play." He outlines the situation, and there is nothing sweet or charming in the smile he pulls on his lips. My fists clench nervously behind my back because I don't like it one bit that the confidence I want to feel the most radiates back from the man. Nevertheless, I hold his gaze, my mouth in a mocking smirk as I cock my head to the side because, even though they are slowly cornering me, I am not willing to back down with my tail between my legs. It's a bit like a dick-measuring contest because even though I don't have the necessary equipment, Price still wants to make it clear to me that no matter how sneaky I think I am, he’s the one calling the shots here. And that makes hot rage bubbling up inside me because I suspect that his promise is not an unfounded and empty threat and he really has such excitement in store for me. Healers aren't usually sent out into the field because it's more important for them to remain in one piece at least as long as their duties are fulfilled, but these people aren't scared that I’m made out of glass. Flattering.

"I look forward to receiving the honor." I reply, and I try to force all the calmness and false kindness into my voice. And the captain seems quite amused by this, and for some reason, I'm not thrilled that he doesn't take me seriously enough. Which of course is completely understandable, because we all know that as soon as I try something funny, they could kill me immediately. And the fact that this is so obvious to everyone only makes me even more furious.

"Of course, this will not happen just yet. The boys will give you training beforehand to help you get prepared for fieldwork. Since the unit does not only deal with the protection of the colony but also carries out special liquidation and crime prevention activities in several areas, you will need special training. For your safety, of course." Laswell interrupts our little banter, and my eyebrows rise to my hairline at this statement. I'm not crazy about the idea of being dragged on monster-infested trips by these so-called human tanks, but this idea and explanation might be even less to my liking. At least a thousand different situations appear in my mind about what funny and extremely deadly excitement Laswell's little team gets involved in, which does not bode well for me, to put it mildly. Until now, I knew that private units and squads were always involved in something nebulous and questionable if not outright deadly deals, but the fact that I just had to end up with one that, according to them, specializes in getting their hands dirty, squeezing my stomach like a lemon.

As the dream of my Healer position, which is relatively tolerable and definitely conducive to escape, begins to disintegrate before my eyes, I start to get more and more nervous. Of course, I should be happy that perhaps during the training I might acquire skills that will increase the probability of me being able to disappear at the first opportunity, like the father who went down to get milk. But I know very well that this will be more of a survival test and a cabaret than sincere help. I understand why it's good to be close at hand when shit hits the fan, but what the hell are these weapon-laden, super-fast, super-strong, super-whatever professional killing machines doing if I'm forced to huddle next to them like a squire? Why don't they just bring themselves back in one piece while I comfortably wait for them here?

"Don't worry, love, we'll be careful not to harm ya!" MacTavish grins widely, showing all his teeth, and I suddenly feel an irresistible desire to try to throw myself at him and strangle him despite my handcuffs. Because now he's clearly having fun at my expense, along with his stupid captain, and I'm cursing myself more and more for even thinking that fate would spare me. Of course, there was no doubt that they would want to use me as intended, but I didn't expect that they would find creative ways to make my life difficult. But, right, those who are stupid should die, those who have hope and may even be presumptuous should accept that others will mop the floors with them. Because I have no doubt that they will.

"Since you will be performing Healer duties to all four of our Hunters, therefore, of course, they all participate in your training. This will at least give you a chance to get used to the team better." Laswell continues her explanation, and as I grasp what this will mean for me, for the first time, my mood becomes genuinely sullen and a sour taste fills my mouth. My mind is slowly starting to process the situation, and now I can see exactly what kind of predicament I'm in. Under normal circumstances, it wouldn’t be unthinkable for a Healer to take care of several Hunters, but since they are not trained for efficient energy management, they quickly reach their tolerance limit. So, in most cases, a Healer can take on a maximum of two Hunters, and they can only manage to do this if they're treated with a very gracious attitude, and if of course none of their little clients are ranked S or higher. And now these people seize the opportunity, and they throw all four tough guys at me, who I will cheerfully accompany to wherever their heroic adventures will take them after they give me lessons on how to take care of myself. I can safely assume that Laswell was on the lookout for years for an Extreme who can handle all of this, who due to their self-healing skill has very little chance of dying when her little boys drag them into a bloodbath. So, all this big fuss happened because her team wasn't able to take care of their toys that well until now. Their Healers at best became useless if not died, either during a mission or due to the high energy demand of healing injuries or regeneration. Of course, it's not surprising, because Healers are not designed for this action-packed lifestyle. "Of course, if a life-threatening injury were to occur in the case of soldiers occupying other positions in the unit, then you must take care of them as well."

I'm not even surprised by this addition, because it almost dwarfs what was outlined for me. I study the Hunters again involuntarily, and I can't shake the thought creeping into my skull on slimy and disgusting legs that this unit specializes in even riskier missions than what Laswell disclosed. Even government-run liquidation units sometimes get involved in crime prevention, but in none of these cases do the Hunters go on missions that are so long-winded or perilous that a Healer needs to be present to immediately patch up the little heroes. That's why I have mixed feelings about the suggestion that I'll get involved in potentially fatal adventures in the future, and this finally puts an honest seriousness on my face. Regardless of what I theorized as a possible outcome when Laswell first appeared in front of me, I think it's time that if the promise of a livable life is gone, I do something to at least make sure my chances of survival don't end up the same. Here, Leona, you ran away from your supposed duties for more than ten years, and now you are being chased into the dick-forest with your mouth open. Make sure you at least enjoy it.

"Marvellous. But I hope everyone is also aware that in order to perform this honorable task well, I will need blood." I warn Laswell, because at this point I feel that subtlety is unnecessary, and at least something beneficial should come out of all of this shitshow for me as well. And before the aforementioned could intervene, I flash my sharp gaze at her. "It's not optional, it's a fairly well-known fact. If I don't get blood, I won't be able to use my ability. And for a party of this caliber, I need more than just a taster. But liters."

"You don't have to worry about that. Now that you're here, you can officially feed under supervision." Laswell reassures me, and for some reason, in addition to the relief, I still have the feeling that this sounds much simpler than what it actually will be.

"Don't worry, we'll take good care of ya'! " MacTavish speaks up again joining my encouragement, and it starts to become clear that the guy has a comment about everything, which he likes to let out every chance he gets. But he seems to be the one who gives me the least cause for concern, and who does not seem the one who intends to unnecessarily complicate my existence. How kind of him to reassure me many times that I didn't walk into a den full of wolves. The little liar.

"Great. Now that we've laid out the groundwork, let's talk about the details." Laswell begins with her formal tone again, and I, suppressing a tired sigh, fight my way into a more comfortable position, preparing to take in all further crap that is rolled in my direction. However, my light eyes are inevitably drawn back to the Hunters, who are currently occupying every one of my brain cells capable of thinking. And as my gaze meets that of the masked man, who has been silent since the beginning of the discussion, but no less threatening, the woman's voice fades into a monotonous murmur in my ears. Even though at first glance I thought that all Hunters exuded the same sinister and heavy aura equally, I soon had to realize that there was much more hidden in the dark eyes that shone behind the mask. Just a few seconds of Riley's undivided attention is enough, and I feel the little hairs on my back rise instinctively. Because it becomes quite obvious that he is a true predator and sees me as nothing more than his prey. And if he promises one thing right now, it's that he'll do everything to make sure I don't forget this wandering silent warning.

[tr3eeeee]

The ten duel comandments

Number one to demand satisfaction, What satisfaction? I find pleasure in nothing living is a burden I have been instilled with through the fighting and tantrums no peace is possible, a negotiation is attempted "Go on a walk!" Wake up earlier" "Eat Greek yogurt for breakfast!" They dismiss as I yearn for solutions desperate for anything

Number two What friend am I supposed to bring upon my existence if none find me appealing, "...too much...too little...too annoying...too stupid...too smart..." they all cry; nothing is suitable. Nothing is okay until you're trying to kill your- "medical assistance is the most praised and proven to be the most effective way to cure psychiatric patients." So I'm crazy now? The next 72 hours of your life will be spent while you are observed and asked questions by people in coats with clipboards. Wait, it's Friday the state does not recognize psychiatric patients on weekends PSYCHIATRIC AM I FUCKING CRAZY?

Number three: Ruling mentally if it is worth it, going through every face you've ever known, if they would care, or if they're just another Linda on another Tuesday at the local Walmart. Your mother, father, siblings, partners, work associates, it all flies through your head, your chest aches eyes burning. It is worth it.

Number four The text, "I love you :))" as you reach a peace of the mind, a calm even, strikes your body. Your plan, your utensils, your approach, lies openly sitting as if consumed by gelatinous.

Number five The clock hits a solid 11:11 as your phone rings off the hook

Number six The ignorance it took you to come this far, you dash up running to your office, pen in hand eager to write. Writing every major event of your life, how it effected you, and why it has made you make this decision. A neatly sealed envelope attached to the bottom, "To mom." Your will is labeled.

Number seven Twenty-four hours, thinking pacing, stressing, crying, waiting.

Number eight The clock shines as you look at it wincing, 11:05, six more minutes

Number nine The final call, "Hey dad! Fuck you for never being here."

Number ten; Eleven-Ten

The Ten Duel Comandments

Un

Deux

Trois

Quatre

Cinq

Six

Sept

Huit

11:11

FIRE!

And with that bullet released suffrage, pulling it to universal stop a flash of blue blinds you, it distracts from the agony, a borealis of green flashes through your eyes, with a dying breath, "freedom." A hasty remark, your final words.

[rarijackistheshit]

Writing prompt:

"Once I tried to save you. Now, I'd rather watch you burn.

We have this really old and really bad coffee machine at work. Now, that's not really unique for any company. A friend of mine works as a consultant, meaning that she spends an unhealthy amount of time in other offices than her own. She grades her coffee on a  20 grade scale, because she claims that you need to be that precise and that a 1 on a 1 to five scale isn’t low enough to describe some of the atrocities she has tasted.

Now, this story isn’t about her, really, but it is a fun anecdote and always an icebreaker at lunch tables. So many people have opinions about coffee, I once spent an hour discussing…

Okay, this isn’t about that either. It's about him.

Him in the meaning him. Him, in Sloane who works three cubicles down from me. I may walk a bit slower as I pass him on my way to the printer. Or the bathroom. And I may find way to many reasons to talk to Kae the manager about work place issues. Because HE sits just a few yards from her office. Perhaps he will hear me and think that I sound intelligent and that I care about our work place. And maaaybe I have been choosing the vegetarian alternative just a bit more often lately because he usually goes with that. Okay okay, I have a severe crush on my coworker. Sue me.

And he is 3… maybe he's a bit younger than me… But he is so damn cute. And he has that kind of smile that means "I haven’t given up on the world yet." And he has pun mugs, one with the text "espresso yourself" and another with "Love you a latte". And I have seen him at the gym wearing a my little pony t-shirt without shame. 

Few men can wear that tee and make it work. I bet that Richard Ayoade could do it.

He has begun to grow a five o clock shade, He looks a bit like Richard Ayoade but without glasses.

AND he's single. (Yes, I have tried poly. I'm all for it, but it wasn't my thing. Sorry Kae.)

As you may have understood I haven't exactly gotten around to talk to him, we only share workspace. 

But I have a plan. You know what the call me? Stan the coffee man.

My name isn't really stan, but it's close enough and I can accept that nick cause it rhymes and it's pretty fun.

And they don't call me that because I'm the one the force to bring everyone coffee, don't worry, it's not that kind of story. It's like this, I have my workplace close to the coffee machines. Yes, there is more than one.

And I am the master of them all.

The one on the left is the new one. It can produce 10 different varieties of coffee, all of them without any resemblance to the name that stands on the button. But the correct number of espressos with a touch of hot water is close to real coffee.

The one on the right has only three options.

Large coffee, small coffee and hot water.

The hot water is the product that is the best, however, that coffee is a 7 on the Catrina scale so it kinda works. With lots of milk. lots.

Then there's the one in the middle. The scrooge of coffee machines. What that one produces is nothing like coffee. It's hot and it's burnt and its dark, and if you call that coffee I call you a racist. 

And that's not all the bullshit it brings you. The tray where you put your cup is loose and if you don't place the cup in the exact position, you end up with everything on your pants, and that is if you're lucky.

Who do you think knows when to remove your cup before the small coffee accidentally becomes a large one?

Who has the knowledge how many espressos you mix to get one good cup?

 Who knows exactly where that position is on Scrooge?

You guessed it, Stan the coffee man.

I have made it my task to help newcomers. And boy, do they need it… I take their hand and lead them through our coffee breaks, making sure they don't die and stay focused. I teach them how and when to press or which signs to look for before the hot water tap turns your mug into a geysir. To name only two of my special skills. I take great pride in my work and I am good at it, if I may say so. But, with great power comes great responsibility. I  neve refused to help anyone. Not even Boss Angie's wife who is an absolute brat and not worthy of our boss's love, even to her, I lend my expertise. 

Except for one. I refuse to help Sloane. I sit in silence as he puts his punny mug on lefty, pushes one Button to few and make a face as he drinks it. I bite my lip as I watch him go to righty and removes the cup to late, I have to hold back my emotions every time I see his face scrunch up but I must not give in. Why, you ask? A bitter reminded that I can’t have nice things? A silent reprimand to him not reciprocating my feelings? Oh, far from it. I am waiting, you see.

He is smart. And intelligent. And sooo good looking and.

Ehrm.

Point is, he kinda knows lefty. And has a bit of knowledge about righty. So he gets his coffee there. 

But.

One day he will have to try scrooge. One day lefty will be self-cleaning, at the same time as Janitor refills right. And I know what will happen. The tray will fall althouhj he will catch his cup before it breaks against the floor because that's the guy he is. Or maybe he has the right touch, and he will manage to push "coffee", but then he will put his cup to his lips and go "What the hell IS THIS?" Just like everyone else. 

And then I will be there. I will be Swift. I will be helpful. I will be extremely untoxic and absolutely not mansplaining, I will be my best self. I will be "Yeah, scrooge here needs a bit of special handling. And even then, he can’t really produce good coffee. None of these machines can. But if you like coffee, I know this little place just around the corner? I can show you? Perhaps at lunch?"

It's a long shot. But if the stars are aligned right… Stan the coffee man will get all the right Buttons pressed.

And it will be just the right taste and very hot. A 18 on the catrina scale, minor

[brainrattlers]

Play It Cool - Tyson Jost (34/n)

Pairing: Tyson Jost x OFC (AJ)

Word Count: 6274 (I went a little overboard)

Warnings: Language. There’s adult naughtiness, so if you’re under 18, get outta here. It’s not graphic but still... get out. Holiday fluff too.

Need to start from the beginning? Check out Chapter 1 at https://at.tumblr.com/brainrattlers/play-it-cool-tyson-jost-1n/p7no8u1hzuza

Just need to catch up on last chapter? Chapter 33 is at https://at.tumblr.com/brainrattlers/play-it-cool-tyson-jost-33n/roh2we9w75t3

Author’s Notes: I am reposting this because I'm getting the feeling my tags aren't working right. Testing something out. :)

Happy Holidays, readers! I’m hoping you’re having a festive season full of friends, family, food, and fun. Things got away from me, and then the weather that hit last week threw a wrench in the works for a LOT of people, myself included. Ended up having to rewrite things, and then I got stuck. That’s the hard part about writing sometimes... you have to come up with the ideas! I hope I did this justice, especially since I took a couple extra days.

Anyway, Tyson’s on the road, AJ’s in Minneapolis packing, and there’s a storm heading toward Buffalo. Tyson wants to bring AJ home for Christmas, but there are a lot of “what ifs” looming.

After a few hours of packing, AJ’s stomach alerted her to it being well past lunch time. 

As if on autopilot, she grabbed her keys, and headed to the garage to retrieve her Soul and hit the road. Truth be told, she missed her car after driving Tyson’s so much the past few weeks. Hitting 94, she headed to St. Paul, craving Cossetta. Traffic was rough on Seventh, reminding her of the fact the Wild were playing that night, just two blocks down the road. Opting to take her dinner with her, she headed back to the apartment wanting to get as far from the Xcel Energy Center as she could.

It wasn’t that she was mad at the team, or the arena… There was still frustration with the management and coaching staff there, getting under her skin. She didn’t know why it was still bothering her when clearly Tyson was carving out a new home in Buffalo, now on the third line consistently. AJ really did need to learn to get better, not bitter. Minnesota was just a stepping stone onto bigger and better things, for the both of them.

Sitting on the sofa next to Maple, AJ looked at the clock on her phone. Tyson was in Arizona, and likely would be at practice, but it didn’t stop her from sending a quick photo and message.

AJ: Maple was a good messenger. I miss you too! We’re just chilling on the sofa at the moment, having some late lunch. &lt;;1 attachment>

Putting on some music in the background, AJ got back to work. Tyson’s musical influences were creeping into her Spotify mixes, realizing that a few of his playlist songs were showing up in her Chill and Electronic pre-made playlists. Some of those very songs graced the speakers in this very apartment while cooking dinner together, low-key afternoons that Tyson read while AJ crocheted, and some intense late nights spent connecting on multiple levels. 

Just like packing up life in Denver, memories came rushing back, even though their time there was short. While working on packing but really more reminiscing, the music was interrupted with a notification of a text message. Grabbing her phone, AJ smiled, but then frowned reading the words that popped up on the screen.

Tyson: I’m so glad Maple was able to relay the message. I told him to write it down because I’m pretty sure he would have forgotten otherwise. Skate went well. Change in plans though - don’t think Mom is going to make it to Minny to help. How’s it going? 

AJ looked around and sighed, knowing an extra set of hands would be a huge help. In her heart though, she knew though this was the least she could do right now considering she still didn’t have steady work in Buffalo and Tyson was footing the bill on things. Granted, he IS the one with a $2M contract currently. But with Laura not there to help, it was definitely concerning AJ whether she could pull this off as the movers would be there soon, and how it would affect Christmas plans that she was working with her on to surprise Tyson.

Either way though, AJ was going to have to make this work.

AJ: I’ve got a ways to go in that case, but doing what I can. Maple’s just sitting on the sofa though not helping. Everything okay?

Tyson: I don’t know if you’ve been paying attention to the weather but they’re starting to say that Buffalo is going to get hit hard with snow, but don’t know how much yet. Can I call you when we get back to the hotel? It’s a lot to text.

AJ: Of course. Love you, talk soon.

Tyson: You’re the best, love.

Shortly after, Tyson facetimed AJ better explaining the situation. He was worried about her traveling too - if she left too late, she might get stranded traveling back to Buffalo. Taking a minute to film the apartment situation, she told him it would be close to getting it done before the movers arrived, and making sure she left early enough without Laura’s help.

The silver lining in this situation is that literally she just needed to pack up and clean a bit - and AJ was staying at the apartment so it wasn’t like she needed to drive back and forth to a hotel each day. Late nights, early mornings, it didn’t matter other than the last night. Once boxes were packed, she could grab the most important ones and stash them in her car and hit the road.

The two closed out the call pretty quick, knowing the time crunch.

AJ ended up chatting a bit with Laura that evening too, confirming the news from Tyson about not coming in. The two were trying to figure out what this would mean for the Christmas surprise the two were plotting and scheming to make happen - unfortunately it was a “hurry up and wait” situation not knowing what the weather truly would bring. The two promised to keep in touch to figure out if plans were changing. Both were optimistically hopeful, but knew the reality might not be that picture-perfect.

Tyson was still worried, constantly checking for weather updates. It didn’t seem to show during the game in Arizona though, with him scoring an empty-net goal to help the Sabres beat the Coyotes 5-2. Directly after the game, the team traveled to Vegas.

AJ: Not staying at the Wynn Encore, I’m assuming?

Tyson: Ha ha ha babe. You’re lucky you’re beautiful, smart, kind, and laugh at my jokes.

Working until nearly 2am and the exhaustion hit, AJ gave up on packing for the night. While the mattress felt familiar, the lack of all the extra pillows (there were two left behind from the initial round of packing) and the lack of Tyson left it feeling empty and cold. Soon enough though she’d be back in Buffalo with him, curled up in their giant hotel room bed. And hopefully shortly after that, they’d be moving into a more permanent residence.

After a few hours of sleep, AJ found herself up again, working on putting everything into organized boxes, labeled with what room the box would belong in, or at least if it was Tyson’s stuff, or her own. A few hours later was a good morning text from Tyson, saying the forecast was about the same at that point, but he was still nervous. AJ showed off the progress she’d made, clearing out two rooms already, leaving just a couple left. 

AJ also vowed to herself she would have to get rid of some of her stuff at some point, especially if moving around was going to be a fairly consistent thing. She certainly hoped it wouldn’t be that way - while Buffalo may not have been her first choice, she’d rather stay there at least a few more years before being potentially sent somewhere else. 

Not wanting to interrupt her more than he had to, Tyson recorded a short video and sent it to AJ while she continued on the mission. He sent it from the dressing room before the game started. It pinged her phone as she was stopping for a bit to get some dinner.

Opening the clip, AJ saw her man smiling, definitely taking his time to choose his words.

“Hey Eggo, you are such a trooper putting up with everything, me being me, moving, moving again. I’ve never once heard you really complain. And you doing what you’re doing right now? It made me realize that if the situation were slightly different, I wish you were here in Vegas because I’d take you to the place with Elvis and I swear I’d marry you right now. In the meantime, all I can do is promise I will make it up to you. You’re everything to me, AJ… I love you so much.”

His eyes were glassy, and AJ caught him at one point smiling, laughing, and wiping his eye. Tyson was becoming more and more open showing his feelings to her. She watched the video a couple more times, watching how the smile on his face got bigger when he talked about getting married. 

For AJ, marriage wasn’t a necessity, she knew they were committed to each other. And to be fair, she wasn’t opposed to it either. But for Tyson and his old soul, there was something special, something extremely intimate and romantic about getting to say the vows, and signing on the lines of the license, even if the minister was an Elvis impersonator.

AJ: I can’t wait to see you in a couple days. Feels empty without you here. Got another room finished, only have the kitchen and the guest room/office left. If I were there, I’d gladly take you up on the offer to become Mrs. Jost officially. Your mom would kill us both for that though, pretty sure she wants to be at the wedding lol

With the game on in the background, AJ packed as much as she could, trying to not get sucked into the game too much. Close game though, with a 3-2 win over the Golden Knights. Quiet night from Tyson, but not from lack of trying. 

Tyson: Getting ready to fly back. Weather is looking worse for Friday. Hearing that they’re contemplating postponing the game. Should know more soon. If you can leave sometime tomorrow, I think that’d be for the best.

Looking around the room, AJ could probably pull it off although the boxes wouldn’t be as organized as originally intended. That could easily be dealt with later. With the news though, she called it a night, and got up early the next morning to finish tackling the remainder.

With a handful of boxes in her own car, and the VIB buckled in the front seat (Maple IS a very important bear!), AJ was on her way back to Buffalo. On her way to Indiana, a phone call was made between Laura and herself, unfortunately calling off the Christmas surprise, which was not only Laura coming out to visit Tyson in Buffalo, but also getting Kacey and the grandparents out there as well - AJ and Laura were going to pay for the tickets to surprise Tyson. Unfortunately this left AJ with NO gifts purchased for Tyson, causing her great anxiety. She tried to tell herself it would be okay if it were late, especially considering the fact she’s now on her way back to Buffalo, where it sounded like the weather was going to be awful, no doubt.

Stopping in Indiana for the night, she checked into her hotel, and checked in with Tyson.

“Game is postponed Friday, for sure. So I talked to Mom though, and… since it’s an extra day, what do you think about heading to Edmonton for a quick Christmas trip? I can get tickets to fly out directly after practice on Thursday morning.”

As tired as she was, AJ still fought to keep the really frustrated heavy sigh from being heard over the phone. She really understood, he hadn’t seen his family all together since their trip over the summer. BUT - He didn’t know that her Christmas surprise was now canceled, and that she didn’t have a backup. Tyson didn’t see all the boxes in the living room ready for the movers to pick everything up. Tyson wasn’t the one driving through crappy weather heading back to Buffalo.

What he did know, however, is that when AJ gets quiet, something is amiss. The lack of response was a dead giveaway.

“Hey, is everything okay?”

The frustrated sigh couldn’t be held back, nor was the exhaustion fueled feelings.

“No. No I’m not. I’m just…” AJ trailed off, fearing what might come out of her mouth with her filter seemingly broken.

Tyson stayed quiet, letting her figure out her words to let him know what she’s feeling.

Another sigh happened, but he knew this was the one that always came when she was nervous to say what she was about to say.

“I… I’m just tired, Tys. Physically and emotionally. I was expecting some help with getting the old place sorted, and I know that isn’t anyone’s fault that the weather kept your mom from coming down. But I’m tired from that, I’m tired from driving all day in awful weather. On top of that (sigh) I had this big grand plan for a surprise for you for Christmas, but it completely fell through and I don’t even have a gift for you now. You’re a hard man to shop for, you know that?” AJ was chuckling to keep from crying at this point.

Yep. AJ was truly exhausted.

“Aww babe, I’m… I’m really sorry this is happening, if I had the power to change the weather, you know I would,” Tyson thought for a moment and calmly responded, “Would it be better if we just skipped going home?” 

“That’s not fair to you. My gift to you was getting your family all to Buffalo for the holiday, but… this is still a way for you to see them all. I mean worst case, you can always go without me.”

That last bit stung. Tyson was sure that she didn’t mean it to hurt, but it did.

“It didn’t occur to me what all you’ve been up to the past few days especially without the help you were expecting. I forgot what kind of mess I left the apartment in. You are a fucking ROCKSTAR for putting up with all this and taking care of everything. That right there is more than enough of a Christmas present. But if I had my say, wherever you are for Christmas, I want to be there too. I’m not leaving you alone in a new city, in shitty weather, especially on Christmas.”

AJ was quiet, taking it all in. The silence hung, but Tyson wasn’t about to step in and say anything else until she did, and he was willing to wait however long it was. She was still processing everything in her sleep-deprived mind. Something finally clicked and she realized she was doing the thing again - overreacting and going worst case scenario without considering that it might not be that bad. And Tyson wasn’t going to hold it against her either, realizing he kind of sprung this on her last second as well.

“How about I get some sleep, and I do my best to get back tomorrow in decent time. I want to be with you for Christmas too. I just can’t promise I’m going to be the best company for a day or two as I recharge my batteries.”

Tyson chuckled and sighed, “One step at a time, and that first one is getting you back here. Text me before you leave in the morning, and check in when you can? We’ll figure it out from there, sound good?”

AJ agreed to the plan. She wasn’t sure what the next few days would hold, but was going to roll with it the best she could. And Tyson was going to make sure it was as easy on her as possible, realizing how much she deserved some time off.

After what felt like a few hours of sleep, Maple and AJ were on the road again, driving along Lake Erie heading toward New York, seeing the sights she had seen weeks prior driving the Grand Cherokee up. A few texts were shared before Tyson was on his way to practice, figuring he’d be getting home shortly before she would be. The estimates were right, as AJ texted one more time as she was getting parked.

AJ: Get the luggage cart and help me unload… Maple is cranky and needs a nap. *Maple is me.

With the Soul unloaded, and the handful of bins and large bear brought inside, all AJ could do was hug Tyson, grab a quick kiss, and crawl into bed for a couple of hours. But not wanting her to sleep all afternoon and then not be able to that night, Tyson woke her up before dinner. While he really wanted to take her out for a nice dinner, he also knew that she wasn’t going to feel like getting dressed up. 

Instead he opted to order in some Chinese from a place one of his teammates recommended. As AJ came out of the bedroom, she was greeted by a smiling Tyson who put the Christmas lights on again, and set the table buffet style, complete with an order of General Tso’s for her, Beef and Broccoli for him, veggie fried rice, some egg rolls and an order of crab rangoon to share. Full plates in hand, the two found themselves on the sofa. Eating in silence, they watched an episode of Yellowstone. The second episode found them curled up with each other under a large thick fleece blanket, with AJ fading fast. 

Clicking the off button on the TV, Tyson urged AJ to take out her contacts and come to bed. It didn’t take much to twist her arm.

Letting AJ sleep in, Tyson quietly slipped out in the morning after already packing his suitcase. Little did she know, but he also set an alarm on her phone for 8:30 so she could get up in time to get breakfast downstairs, and get packed. Little did he know, she was planning on getting up at 8 to get breakfast downstairs, get packed, and still try to find a gift before leaving for the airport when Tyson was back from practice.

Thankfully, inspiration struck while she was eating breakfast in the hotel lobby. Throwing on a hoodie and grabbing her keys, AJ made a quick stop at a place she knew that would sell what she was looking for. After spending a few minutes, she picked out which one she hoped he would like. And getting back to the hotel, she quickly packed her bag, stashing the purchased item between a layer of clothing - wrapping would have to be done when they arrived. With a bit of extra time before Tyson’s inevitable return, a visit to the gym happened, followed by a shower to relax herself before popping the Dramamine she’d need to survive flying and not being a nauseated mess.

The door lock clicked, alerting AJ to the arrival of Tyson. Seeing her backpack next to his suitcase, he knew she was coming with… which was good because he had already bought her ticket.

Opting to get a ride to the airport, rather than leaving one of their vehicles there, the two arrived with plenty of time before their flight. This was a smart move, everyone was freaking out with the storm coming in the next day and trying to get to their holiday destinations. AJ fell asleep on Tyson’s shoulder at the gate waiting for boarding, the motion sickness meds clearly doing their thing. When it was time to get on the plane, it took a bit of work, but he did get her awake and coherent enough to get seated. She was back out as soon as her seatbelt clicked. Tyson’s hands would be safe from the death grip of AJ’s at least this part of the trip

The flights to Edmonton were Buffalo to Chicago to Calgary to Edmonton, with that little extra bit of going through customs. With the time zone changes, the two were greeted by Laura at the airport just in time for a late dinner. 

At home, Kacey and a couple cousins were already waiting, decorating the tree. Tyson insisted AJ have a seat on the sofa as he took their bags upstairs to his room. AJ took in the environment, remembering a few of the cousins from their trip up earlier in the year. Laura let AJ know there was pizza in the kitchen, if they were hungry. Tyson appeared again, and grabbed some ornaments to help finish the tree, excited for his favorite holiday with his family. With the tree finished, and a few pieces of pizza devoured, it was actually Tyson who threw in the towel first, admitting he was pretty tired with it feeling two hours later AND a day of travel. AJ was in agreement though, wishing everyone a good night as they headed upstairs.

This time around, it wasn’t Tyson trying to be sneaky and start something, he was legitimately tired. And if he were this tired, he knew that AJ was probably twice as. The two took turns in the bathroom, and cleared the bed of their bags while getting changed into pajamas. And just like last time, it was a tight fit with the two of them in the full-sized (much smaller) bed. But unlike last time, AJ felt a lot more at home and fell asleep quickly in Tyson’s arms.

The next morning, the Jost clan had breakfast, and talked about plans for the coming days. It’d be a short trip, considering Tyson had to be back in time to travel to Columbus for the game on the 27th. Updates from Buffalo though were starting to come in, and while it wasn’t bad yet, the forecast was grim. It was very up in the air what plans were, but as of right now, they had a red-eye to get back early on the 26th. But in the meantime, the plan was to have dinner at the Grandparents Jost’s home on Christmas Eve, and then everyone back at Laura’s for Christmas day. 

Tyson thought it’d be fun to go into the city and test out how much AJ’d been practicing skating. Truth be told, she was getting a little better, able to stop, and take corners awkwardly. (Don’t tell Tyson but she actually got some lessons from a couple of the guys back in Minnesota.) He was so proud that she didn’t even fall down once, although she still looked like a baby deer at times. After skating, they decided to hit up a mall to wander around to kill time. The crowds of people were ridiculous doing their last minute shopping. This did make for some good people watching though. Dinner was catching up with some old family friends of the Josts.

Suddenly, AJ’s phone buzzed in her pocket. Checking her watch, a rather unexpected text was in her inbox.

Tyson:  Hey baby girl, what are you doing after dinner? (winking emoji)

AJ looked over at him, quirking her eyebrow up. She knew what he was doing. 

A few minutes later, Tyson felt the vibration of his watch against his wrist.

AJ: Sleeping? (evil imp emoji)

The texts were spaced out so it wasn’t obvious they were texting each other back and forth, and were doing their best to not be rude to the others they were dining with.

Tyson: I was thinking maybe something that might put us on Santa’s naughty list.

AJ: Is that so? Someone hoping to get lucky in his childhood bedroom?

Tyson leaned back in the booth, putting his arm around AJ, whispering in her ear.

“I want to do all the things that make you scream… but you have to stay quiet or else everyone in the house will know, baby girl.” He smiled as he rejoined the conversation.

A shiver ran down AJ’s spine and her breath stuttered a bit at his words hitting her squarely where he hoped they would. In retaliation, Tyson found AJ’s hand very high up on his thigh under the table, just enough to tease but not actually cause any friction.

The car ride home was thick with tension because they didn’t want to seem any out of the ordinary, that Tyson had been riling up AJ all evening.

Once home though, AJ apologized and went to bed early, citing that she thought a migraine was coming on. Tyson, being the gentleman he is, told everyone he was going to go check on her and excused himself as well. As the two were safely in Tyson’s room, AJ pinned him down in bed, seeing just how far she could get with him before he started getting too loud. It took a lot of effort to not give loud audio cues as to how she was doing. She ended up kissing him deeply, as he moaned and whimpered into her mouth.

Don’t think for a minute though that Tyson let her get fully away with it either. Clearly with the strength advantage, he turned the tables and was working the spot just above her collarbones and riling her up. The major difference though was that as quiet as AJ had been, what he was doing with his fingers that night drove her over the edge, and his other hand had to be put over her mouth to keep her from letting the rest of the house know what they were up to, especially considering she was “worried about having a migraine.”

Getting up from the bed, Tyson grabbed a small, shiny packet from his bag, and stopped to think a minute.

“Babe, get up.”

AJ was still in a heightened state of bliss and ignored the request.

“Seriously, I need you to get up a second.”

Looking toward Tyson at the foot of the bed, he motioned for her to get up. Once she was, he pulled the bed slightly away from the wall, knowing that what he was wanting to do might cause the headboard to rattle against the wall. That would be a dead giveaway.

Content with the distance the headboard was from the wall, a smirk graced Tyson’s lips.

“Now, where were we?” Tyson watched AJ crawl back into bed. “I think we were right about here…” 

Tyson moved slow, knowing that AJ would be able to stay quiet only momentarily as the movements were exaggerated, creating a tease. He reminded her with a finger to his lips to stay quiet. When the whines, moans and whimpers from her were beginning to increase in volume, he moved with more intent, swallowing the noises coming from her mouth with his own. She had to grip into the pillows behind her in fear of getting caught from the noises that would come from Tyson as she would have raked her nails down his back.

The feeling of her fighting it, holding back underneath him was too much, leaving his body shuddering as he let go. Tyson reached between their bodies, using his fingers the best he could at the awkward angle to get her there too. Trying to stay quiet, she scrunched her eyes shut tight, and tried to keep the noise to a higher-pitched hum as she rode it out.

Collapsing against her, Tyson rested his head against AJ’s chest, listening to her heartbeat slow. AJ snaked an arm around him, lightly playing with the hair on the back of his head, feeling him calm as well. After a few minutes, an exhausted sigh escaped Tyson, realizing he needed to get cleaned up. Throwing on a pair of shorts, he first made a stop to the bathroom, and then snuck off to the kitchen to grab some water for the two of them. It had to look odd coming downstairs shirtless to the remaining family members still hanging out in the living room.

“Just grabbing some water so AJ can take her migraine meds.”

Tyson didn’t realize just how sweaty he was, so… yeah. It was probably pretty obvious.

“Mmhmm, g’night Tyson.” Kacey just grinned.

Back in his room, locking the door, AJ was curled up in bed wearing Tyson’s shirt. It was a sight he never grew tired of. After sharing the glass of water, Tyson played the big spoon. The little spoon could feel the big spoon around her giggling. Twisting around, she needed to find out what was going on. The grin on Tyson’s face was huge.

“That was the first time I’ve ever done that in this room. Glad it was with you.”

“Really Tys? You’ve never before in here? I mean I don’t want to hear about your sex life before me, because I just don’t, but… seriously?”

“Hockey always came first, and I wasn’t the babe magnet I am now. What can I say?”

AJ rolled her eyes and smiled. “Well I’m glad I was the first in that case.” 

The two kissed a few moments, until AJ resituated herself as the little spoon. The two drifted off quickly in the warmth of the blankets and each other.

Christmas Eve morning, Tyson came back from his shower wearing a horrible (or awesome) sweater covered in little gifts in various colors. AJ had never seen it before, but it screamed Tyson. Dressed and good to go, the family went to Grandma Emily and Grandpa Jim’s to spend the day playing games and getting caught up on the adventures Tyson and AJ had been up to since they last talked. 

AJ’s phone had been incessantly buzzing and had been ignoring it. But it finally got to a point where she had to check what was going on. A number of friends and family were wanting to make sure she was okay… because Buffalo had been hit hard with the weather. Extreme winds and snow caused massive power outages across the city. Tyson was getting similar updates, and he was never more happy than he was right then that she came with him to Edmonton. The news and video clips just kept getting worse and worse.

“So, what happens if you can’t get back to Buffalo?” AJ was legitimately concerned as the Sabres were set to play the Blue Jackets on Tuesday in Columbus. “I’m seeing that the Bills couldn’t get back to town after playing in Chicago. The airport is shut down.”

“I need to keep in contact with the staff, but hopefully we’ll be able to head back on the 26th as planned.”

Surprise plot twist, the airport closed down due to said power outages and snow drifts, slated to reopen on TUESDAY, which was too late for the whole team to fly to Ohio. The storm had now postponed not just the Friday night game, but Tuesday now too. The next game would now be Thursday versus Detroit IN Buffalo.

AJ was doing her best to stay unconcerned about the weather, but she was failing. Not knowing if he’d get in trouble for not making it back in time potentially worried her. Tyson made it out that it wasn’t going to be a big deal though.

To keep her mind occupied elsewhere, the family played some card games and ate all sorts of food all day. Tales were told, baby photos were shared (much to Tyson and Kacey’s chagrin). AJ and Kacey became the champions of four-player cribbage. Grandpa Jim and AJ talked music. Tyson watched, loving how well AJ blended into his family.

As it grew late, the family split up and went back to Laura’s home for the night. And just like the previous year, matching pajamas were worn by all in attendance. Laura even pulled AJ aside before everyone went to bed.

“Last year I told you that you were an honorary Jost. I’m so happy that you’ll be a real one soon enough, that I’m gaining an extra daughter.” Laura hugged AJ tightly. “Merry Christmas, AJ.”

“Merry Christmas, Lau… you know what? No. Merry Christmas, Mom.” AJ hugged Laura just as tight. It didn’t feel weird saying it either.

Tyson caught the whole exchange from the doorway of the kitchen, and the feelings he had further made it obvious that AJ was the one for him. She didn’t take him away from his family, she added to his family. AJ was everything he could ever want. He made sure to express those feelings to AJ as they curled up for the night, wearing matching fleece pajamas and all.

Unlike last year, Tyson was NOT the first one to wake up, in fact, it was Kacey. She wandered the house to see who was awake. As she wandered the hall, Tyson woke up, which set off a chain reaction of AJ then waking up. The kids all went to the kitchen, getting some caffeinated beverages going. Laura was the last to join in, the sounds of the kitchen waking her up. Shortly after, the grandparents arrived, a box of gifts in tow.

AJ felt awkward this year not having gifts for everyone as she did the year before - there was so much happening between the move to Buffalo and having to get back to Minny to pack up the old place - that she just didn’t have a chance to really go shopping. Thankfully though, Tyson had her back and had picked out gifts for everyone, putting both of their names on the “from” line on the tags. 

Realizing she still had the one gift left in her bag, AJ had to pull a Tyson and throw it in a gift bag, and brought it out to the living room.

Tyson of course played Santa, handing out the stockings and gifts to everyone. This year, after last year’s overspending, Tyson did better and did NOT go overboard on gifts, especially since they’d have to pack whatever they received to come back on the plane with them. Tyson was still under the impression that AJ hadn’t had a chance to get him a present, so he was surprised to find the extra gift bag in front of him.

“Well open it, goof.” AJ pushed the bag toward Tyson.

Reaching inside, he found a new leather wallet with a crisp $1 bill in it.

“When did you find this? And… why… a dollar?”

AJ smiled, “ Remember when you were at practice on Thursday? I snuck out early. Also it’s bad luck to give someone a new wallet that’s empty… is that another AJ’s family thing like the pickle ornament?” 

Tyson laughed and nodded, and then pushed a bag to AJ, which held a new Sabres hoodie for her.

Everyone showed off their gifts, thanking each other for everything. While the men cleaned up the living room, the women of the family all went to the kitchen to get dinner ready. As they did so, snow was falling outside, causing a white Christmas for sure. 

This reminded AJ to check in again with what the situation was in Buffalo - and the situation was worse. Originally they were to leave early on the 26th, but then the airport said it was closed until the 27th, and now it was showing that it would open on the 28th at 11am. This was really causing some travel issues. AJ was trying to check flights to other nearby airports and maybe rent a vehicle and drive back, or fly elsewhere and finally get a flight back in on Wednesday once the airport in Buffalo opened again.

And of course, Tyson was just going with the flow. Concerned, yes, but it was all out of his hands. Instead, he saw the silver lining.

With not being able to fly out the 26th now, he had a plan that involved getting bundled up in whatever warm clothes he still had around his mom’s house, and finding some for AJ as well. This actually was easier for her than him - She had a new thick Sabres hoodie, and had packed some warm pants. Tyson ended up stealing another hoodie in her bag, an old Reverse Retro Avalanche hoodie. (Hey, a hoodie is a hoodie, even if it has a logo from two teams ago. Plus… the Avs were her team still, except when they played the Sabres.) After rummaging around in the garage, Tyson emerged with a couple saucer sleds.

“You ready to do this?” 

It was easy to see how excited Tyson was, that childlike silliness back in full force. Grabbing AJ’s hand, he led her (and the rest of the family that was with them) up the street to a park with giant hills, perfect for sledding.

“I think I’m going to be better at this than ice skating, that’s for sure!” AJ laughed as Tyson handed her one of the plastic discs.

At the top of the hill, both situated themselves, leaving Kacey to push AJ, and Laura pushing Tyson, until they started sliding on their own. AJ started picking up speed and started spinning slightly, with Tyson close behind. The shrieks and laughs that were had came to a quick halt when Tyson crashed into AJ, leaving them both laying in the snow at the bottom of the hill.

The giggles started up again between the two. Tyson leaned over to check on AJ, brushing snow and hair out of her smiling face. 

“Love you Eggo.” Tyson gave her a quick kiss, knowing the teasing from Kacey would start any minute.

AJ sat up, feeling her arms and legs to make sure she really was okay. Getting up, she challenged Tyson.

“Last one to the top of the hill has to cook dinner when we get back to Buffalo.” 

With a wink, AJ started running, trudging through the snow.

“HEY NO FAIR you have a head start!” 

Tyson was no match for AJ, especially when he playfully bumped into her and she lost her balance, falling into a drift. Again he checked on her and she pulled him down into it with her. They both finally got up laughing, and held hands (and sleds) getting back to the top of the hill.

Dinner would just have to be a team effort once they got back home.

Chapter 35 can be found at https://at.tumblr.com/brainrattlers/play-it-cool-tyson-jost-35n/v1c63xdvng6q

[cupidbedsy]

𝗳𝗶𝘁 𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 𝗶𝗻 | 𝘭𝘩43 ❀

➪ summary: where y/n helps dog sit for quinn's friend, fills in for jack's missing plus one, goes out on a night on the town, and gets into a fight with her family

➪ warnings: luke being sick, mentions of throwing, y/n and jack thinking their a horrible girlfriend/brother, parents fighting, reader has brother problems, crying

➪ word count: 5.8k

➪ file type: girlfriend series fic - part three (yay but sad)

➪ sunny's notes: i can't believe this is the last girlfriend series fic :( i did write two bonus scenes for you so... if you didn't see, i am wanting to do requests/blurbs based off of these! just let me know which girlfriend you want and want scenario or whatever you want them to react to (ex: 'how would quinn's girlfriend react to jack getting hurt' or 'how would quinn and luke react to jack's girlfriend buying them gifts') i really hope you guys are excited about this bc i am too! i am so in love with this series and you guys have no idea how happy i am that you guys like it.

© cupidbedsy ; do not copy, repost, or translate my work and designs on any other website or here

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⟹ quinn and the puppy-sitter

While he had initially agreed to dog sit his friend’s dog, he was now seriously regretting it. It wasn’t that he didn’t like dogs, because he did, but it was the fact that he would have spent hours upon hours alone in a house by himself. He watched the clock, dreading it as the seconds ticked by until he had to leave. That was until an idea sparked in his mind.

He always knew that his brother’s girlfriend loved puppies, it was the one thing that she made sure to tell everyone as soon as she met anyone. He was lucky enough that she lived just a few minutes away from his friend's house, wasting no time in calling her.

“Hey.”

“Hey, Quinner. What’s up?”

“Nothing much. Are you busy?”

Y/n put away one of her shirts, moving around the bedroom, “No, why?”

“Well I have this friend, and he sort of asked me if I wanted to dog sit, and I-”

“Can I come?”

He chuckled, nodding, “That’s the reason I called. Didn’t want to go over there by myself and you’re like the biggest dog person I know.”

“Yay, okay! Text me the address and I’ll meet you there.”

Ten minutes later, y/n left her house and practically skipped down the street to where Quinn had said his friend lived. By the time she arrived, Quinn’s car was in the driveway and he was standing on the porch on his phone. She smiled and walked the rest of the way up the steps, pausing once he finally looked up.

“Okay, her name is Pepper and she’s a black lab, I don’t remember how old they said she was.”

“Awwww.” Y/n bounced on her feet, waiting for him to open the door. She could hear the faint scratching on the wood from inside the house and only melted even more.

As soon as Quinn opened the door, a dog ran out and straight into y/n’s arms, who smiled and picked the puppy up with no effort. She pet Pepper softly, speaking random words in a cooing manner. Meanwhile, Quinn walked inside the house to read the note his friends left, waiting for her to follow. She came in a few minutes later, the puppy trailing happily behind her.

“So what do we have to do?” Y/n took the seat next to him at the island, swinging her legs back and forth as much as she could. 

“Just feed her in an hour or two and then take her outside when she needs to. That’s it, they said we could watch TV if we wanted to.”

She nodded and looked down at the puppy in between the two chairs who was now looking up at Quinn with big eyes, “Aw Quinner, she wants you to hold her!”

He chuckled, “How do you know?”

“I just do, here.” She hopped off the chair and picked the dog up, handing it to her boyfriend’s brother. His eyes widened as he now held the puppy, running a finger on the top of his hand.

“Where’s the bathroom?”

“Oh down the hall and to the right.”

A few minutes later, y/n came back and saw Quinn now sitting on the ground in the living room, playing with Pepper. She sat down beside them, turning the TV on and shifting her focus between the puppy and the screen. Once she found something to watch, she reached into the bucket of dog toys and pulled one out, excited to play with her newfound friend.

“How long have you liked dogs?”

“My whole life, really. Actually, when I was one I apparently was so scared by a dog that I fell over.” He couldn’t help but laugh, “No way.”

“Oh yeah, baby me was terrified of dogs. That was until I turned three or four and we got a puppy of our own. His name was Dino, my brother named him.” She shook her head before continuing, “He was a husky. He died when I was a junior in high school, so five years ago?”

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. We got a dog right before I went to college which sucked, of course, but she’s fun. Her name’s Wolvie.”

He raised an eyebrow, “What I was going to Michigan, what did you expect?” 

He laughed and the two continued to play with Pepper before she spoke up again, “How’s Luke?”

“Good, won’t stop talking about you though.” She blushed and looked down quickly, “Really?”

“Yep. No offense but if I have to hear one more word come out of his mouth about you I might lose it. Which basically means, can you please come see him soon?”

“Is he home tonight?”

“I think so.”

“Alright, I’ll come back to your place. I just have to go home and grab my car.”

He shook his head, “I’ll drive you. I’m sure Luke would be okay taking you home too.” She looked hesitant at first but nodded once she saw the look on his face, a look that only an older brother could have. 

A few hours later, his friends came home and the two of them were able to leave soon after that. Driving home with Quinn was an experience, they had the radio low and the windows rolled down slightly, an experience that was completely different from her older brother.

“You know, I don’t think my brother ever let me roll the windows down in summer, it was always the AC cranked and windows shut, it was his one rule. And he didn’t allow me to pick the music.”

“Well, I couldn’t care less if you have the window down and play whatever you want. I only choose when I’m by myself or Jack and Luke are in the car with me.”

She nodded, “Plus, you’re a better driver than him. I always feel like we’re gonna crash when I’m with him.”

His eyes widened slightly in concern, “That bad?”

“Meh, he just likes getting from point A to point H as quickly as he can.” She shrugged, “I’ve gotten used to it.”

They pulled into his driveway and as they approached the door, Quinn told her to wait outside. She could hear his voice echo through the house, “Luke, I brought you a surprise!”

“Really? Is it food? Because if it’s not food, I don’t want it.”

Y/n rolled her eyes, of course, he was worried about food. She saw Quinn’s hand usher her into the house and she frowned slightly as she stepped through, “Not even me?”

Luke perked up and instantly ran over to her, hugging her tightly, “Just kidding. This is the only surprise I want.” 

He pulled away and smiled at her, kissing her head, “Hi baby.”

“Hi Lukey.” Quinn only smiled fondly at them, walking off to his bedroom. 

❛ ━━･❪ ❁ ❫ ･━━ ❜

⟹ jack and the plus one

Jack was panicking, he had less than an hour to find a plus one to attend an event he had to go to. He hadn’t had one originally but he was just going to be hanging out with Luke the whole night so he didn’t have to worry about bringing someone. And then, Luke got sick. His head was hurting and he couldn’t even get up, he was miserable. 

Y/n had come over earlier, trying to take care of him, and it was only when she was talking about having nothing to do so she could take care of Luke was when it hit him. He immediately ran into his brother’s room to see him and his girlfriend sitting on the bed, watching something on TV, “Hey.”

The two of them looked over at the boy, Luke being the one to talk, “Hi? What do you want?”

“Can I borrow your girlfriend?”

“Borrow my what?”

“Your girlfriend.”

“Okay, hi hello! I’m right here and I have a name, Jackson.”

“That’s not my name.”

“At least I used one.”

“Okay okay, anyway. Why do you want to borrow my girlfriend?”

“For the event, I really don’t want to go alone.”

“I don’t really understand what that has to do with her.”

“I want her to go with me.” He looked at the girl, “Please.”

“I don’t know Jack…” She shifted uncomfortably in Luke’s arm, avoiding his gaze.

Luke looked down at her and then back up at his brother, “Up to her.”

“I don’t know anyone.”

Due to not being able to see Luke since he went to New Jersey, y/n hadn’t gotten a chance to meet any of the team. Now that she got the chance, she wasn’t so sure if she wanted to without her boyfriend. She wasn’t uncomfortable with Jack, it was more the idea of having to the team for the first time and being introduced as Luke’s girlfriend and he was nowhere to be found.

Jack immediately pouted and gave the two his best puppy dog eyes, “Please please please please.”

“Jack she said she didn’t want to-”

“It’s okay, I’ll go.”

“Really?” The two exclaimed in different tones, Jack’s happy and Luke’s incredulously. 

She nodded and looked over at Luke, “I’ll be okay, finally get to meet your team.”

Now it was Luke’s turn to pout, “But I won’t be there.”

“I’ll take care of her, Lukey. Now c’mon, we’ll leave in an hour.”

Jack ran out of the room, practically bouncing off the walls and the couple looked at each other, “I know you said you wanted to introduce me to the team, but I really couldn’t say no to his face. It was too cute.”

“Cuter than mine?”

“Never.” She gave him a kiss on the cheek before getting up, “If you need anything let me know and I’ll make Jack drive me home.”

After she got ready, she walked back out into his room and Luke let out a low whistle, “You’re going out like that? Without me?”

“Sorry, Lukey. But I’ve been waiting for this day forever and I wanted to look good.” He pouted again and reached his arms out for her.

She giggled as she made her way over to him, standing at the edge of the bed as he hugged her, “Make sure to tell them you’re mine.”

Y/n ran a hand through his hair, “Of course. Now-”

“Y/n! Come on, we’re going.”

“Need anything before I go?” He shook his head.

“Alright bye, Lukey. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Y/n walked out of the room and into the foyer where Jack was standing. He smiled at her and opened the door, “You look pretty.”

She blushed and looked down, “Thank you.”

The two made their way down to Jack’s car, riding in silence to the venue. She fidgeted with her fingers as Jack parked the car and he glanced over at her, “You’ll be fine.”

“I know, I know. It’s just hard without Luke here.”

He frowned, “You know, you didn’t have to come. I hope I didn’t seem like I forced you to.” 

Y/n shook her head, “No of course not, I wanted to come, believe me.”

Jack smiled and got out of the car, making his way over to her side to open the door. He helped her out and then offered her his arm, “Let’s do this, little sis.”

“Little sis?”

“C’mon, we all know it’s coming.” She threw her head back and laughed, “Not for a while I hope. I’m still in school and he still lives with you.”

The two walked into the venue, immediately greeted by the crowd of people. She took a deep breath before nodding up at Jack, allowing him to lead them further into the room. Jack scanned the crowd, looking for the easiest person to introduce her to, “I’ll let you meet Nico first, he is our captain.”

Her eyes widened, “Well I’m glad you're here then.”

“What why?”

“I once told Luke I thought Nico was cute, way before I started dating him, and he ignored me for almost the whole day.”

Jack laughed and urged her further, trailing slightly behind, “I am not surprised. But you’re not wrong, Nico does-”

“Have a great ass? I know.”

“Not what I was going to say, but that works too.”

The two approached the Swiss man, waiting patiently for him to finish the conversation he was in, “Jack!”

“Hey, man.” The two hugged and Nico’s eyes drifted to the girl beside him, “And who is this?” 

She blushed under his gaze and looked down, “This is Luke’s girlfriend.”

“Luke’s girlfriend, wow.” She looked back up and stuck her head out, “I’ve been referred to as his girlfriend this whole day, but my name is actually y/n.”

“Nice to meet you, y/n. So where is your boyfriend?”

“He’s sick and Jack begged me to come tonight so I gave in.”

“Puppy dog eyes?”

“Yes, how’d you know?”

“He uses them to get out of things way too often.”

Jack shrugged from beside them, “It works. I’m gonna go get a drink, do you want anything?”

“Just water, please.” He nodded and walked away, leaving her with his captain.

“C’mon, I’ll introduce you to the rest of the team.”

By the time Jack got the two drinks and walked back over to the two of them, she was now surrounded by Dawson, Nico, Jesper, Erik, Curtis, Timo, and Jonas, laughing at something someone said. He looked at them in amusement, coming to stand behind her, “Here’s your water.”

“Thanks, Jack.”

“So Jack, who is this? Nico wouldn’t tell us until you got back.” Jesper raised an eyebrow at his teammate.

“This is Luke’s girlfriend, y/n.”

Half of the group choked on their drinks, coughing a little as a result. Y/n looked around the group, confused, “What?”

“Lukey’s girlfriend? No way, man.”

“What?” She protested a little.

“Little Hughesy has some game.”

“Will someone please tell me what you all are talking about?”

Curtis finally looked at her, smiling, “You’re dating, Luke? The Luke who for the life of him cannot talk to a girl even if it would save his life?”

“Yeah, he was like that when I met him. I think that’s just a Hughes thing though.” She shrugged, risking a glance up at Jack who whined, “Hey.”

“Well you all are wrong, Luke has the most game out of all of them.”

“There’s no way in hell.”

“Oh trust me, when Luke wants to,” her eyes went wide with amusement, “He can.”

They all cringed a little, “I do not want to know.” She grinned, taking a sip of her water. 

Without even a glance at her phone, y/n was able to make it through the whole night of meeting her boyfriend’s phone. They were all super nice to her and Jack had been a great support whenever she had gotten nervous or uncomfortable with a topic of conversation. By the time the two of them had left, Luke had texted and called her over and over again. 

Getting back into his car, y/n looked at her phone and frowned when she saw the notifications, “What’s wrong?”

She looked at Jack, “I don’t know, Luke called me like ten times.”

“Ten? We were only there for a couple of hours, maybe three.”

“Yeah, I know. Let me call him back.

Jack had only heard her side of the conversation, “Hi Lukey.” “What’s wrong?” “I’m sorry.” “Yeah.” “We’ll be home soon. “I love you.”

He turned the car on and backed out of his parking spot, starting to drive towards the exit, “What was that about?”

“He threw up and was hoping I could come home.” She groaned in frustration, “I should’ve looked at my phone, I told him I would’ve made you drive me home if he needed anything.”

“Hey, it’s okay. He’s 21, he can handle himself.”

“Yeah, I know. I just feel horrible.” He frowned at her, this time no trace of playfulness hidden in it or his eyes.

“If you’re thinking you’re a bad girlfriend, you shouldn’t be. If anything I’m a bad brother, I took my little brother’s girlfriend away from him when he was sick just to go to an event because I was too nervous to go alone.”

She shook her head, “He adores you, trust me. He won’t be mad at you.”

“I don’t know, Luke has the ability to hold a grudge for a long time.”

“Trust me, I know. But you’re not a horrible brother.”

“And you’re not a horrible girlfriend.”

❛ ━━･❪ ❁ ❫ ･━━ ❜

⟹ quinn, jack, and the night on the town

Jack had been begging Quinn to go out with him since he woke up that morning, complaining he needed some new clothes for whatever reason, Quinn hadn’t been bothered to listen to him. It was one thing Quinn detested the most, shopping with Jack. He could be out for hours and still be in the same two stores that they started in. 

Y/n walked out of Luke’s room, followed by him on his phone. They talked quietly, y/n watching as Luke threw on his shoes, “I’ll see you later.”

“Yeah, drive safe.” Luke kissed her head, “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“Wait wait wait, where are you going?” Luke eyed his older brother carefully, “With my friends, why?”

“No, I don’t care where you’re going.” Jack groaned, “Where’s y/n going?”

“Home, why?”

Luke stood slightly in front of her, crossing his arms over his chest as Jack looked back at Quinn, “If y/n goes with, will you?”

Quinn raised an eyebrow but nodded slowly, “Yeah.”

“Where am I going?”

“Shopping!”

She looked at her boyfriend and then at his brothers before nodding, “Okay. Only if you buy me food.”

“Deal.” Jack grinned at her and it was Luke’s turn to groan, “You’re hanging out with more than you hang out with me.”

“Tough shit, Lukey boy.”

Quinn, Jack, and y/n drove to the mall, all talking about random things. When they got there, Jack led them to the store he wanted to go to and Quinn looked at her, “Good luck.”

“Why?”

“We once spent three hours in one store. Three.”

She let out a low whistle, “Longer than me. Well let’s hope it doesn’t last that long, maybe I could help?”

“Jack is the pickiest person ever so no offense, but I highly doubt you would make a-”

“Hey, Jack, do you like this?” Y/n pulled out a shirt from one of the racks and Jack immediately nodded when he saw it, “Yeah, actually.”

“Magic.”

They spent the next thirty minutes shopping for things, y/n’s picks hitting every time. Quinn had never been so relieved to go shopping with someone who helped Jack. They were able to get in and out within an hour and headed to two more stores afterward. When they got back to the car, she sighed and leaned against the seat, “You owe me food.”

“You deserve food, I’ve never been able to get Jack to shop that quickly.”

“What can I say? I have a talent.”

When they sat down at the restaurant, she immediately started a conversation, one she had been waiting to start forever, “So I need the scoop on Luke. All the embarrassing stuff. Like now.”

“Okay?”

“It’s important. When he met my brother for the first time, he told them about the time I got locked in a bathroom.”

“You got locked in a bathroom?” Jack snorted, taking a drink.

“Shut up. He locked me in there, it’s not like I did it myself. But that is completely beside the point, I need everything you have on Luke, right now.”

And so they did, they spent an hour and a half going back and forth sharing the funniest and most embarrassing stories they could remember about their brother. Y/n had laughed and laughed at each new story, making a point to remember them so she could use them against her boyfriend later. If her brother could tell him stories, why couldn’t his brothers tell her stories?

However, her feeling of winning slowly faded away as Jack and Quinn asked for stories about her childhood, “No.”

“Oh come on, we just spent however long embarrassing Luke for you, the least you could do is tell us one story about your childhood.”

She blinked at them before nodding, “Fine. Let me think.”

It was hard coming up with stories from her childhood, there weren’t many that stuck out to her. The only one she could really think of was the time her brother locked her in the bathroom which they had already discussed. But eventually, she sighed, “I was a very gullible child. So I allowed my brother to convince me to go down a slide on a chair.”

“You what?”

“Yeah, I broke my arm.” She shrugged, taking a bite of the few remaining fires she had on her plate. Jack and Quinn shook their heads, not believing what she had said. 

“I’m sorry, there is no way you let him convince you to do that.”

“I told you, I was a very gullible kid. You barely had to do anything to convince me. He also convinced me that he was born in Canada, which is very stupid looking back on it.”

By the time they left all three of them felt satisfied with the stories they had told, and when they got back home, Jack and Quinn shared a shit-eating grin at their younger brother before going to their rooms. 

“What was that about?”

“Let’s just say, I have a lot on you now so you can’t use the bathroom story anymore.”

❛ ━━･❪ ❁ ❫ ･━━ ❜

⟹ y/n and the family fight

It was never often that her family fought, at least this bad. She had been home for the summer and told them that she was going to go out with some friends due to them being in town for a couple of days. She assumed that they remembered and left after saying a brief goodbye to them, getting in her car, and driving to where she was going to meet her friends.

However, when she got back home, her parents were furious and her brother was standing off to the side, trying not to interfere with what was about to happen. She stood in front of them nervously, waiting for them to say something but quickly realized that they weren’t going to be the first ones to speak, “Hi.”

“You leave for four hours without telling us you’re leaving and all you have to say for yourself is ‘hi’?”

She mentally groaned in frustration, knowing that this was going to happen. Her brother couldn’t help but snicker and as soon as their parents heard it, he was sent to his room. She sat down after her parents instructed her to and listened to thirty minutes of her parents ‘talking loudly’ at her, accusing her of things she didn’t even do. 

Once they were done, they allowed her to go up to her room where she let silent tears fall. She would’ve been able to get over it, hell she was 21 and she was still getting yelled at by her parents for the most idiotic things. She sat in her bed, staring at the wall as she listened to the white noise around her. She was startled once she heard her parents' voices again, but this time they were yelling at each other. 

That was when she realized that no matter how old you get, listening to your parents fight with each other never gets easier. After twenty minutes of fighting, she grabbed her keys and walked downstairs, hesitantly standing at the bottom of the steps. Her mom noticed her first, her face softening no longer mad at her, “Yes honey?”

“Can I go over to Luke’s house?” She had never heard her voice so quiet and vulnerable before, at least not in a long time. 

Her mom sighed and spared a glance at her husband before nodding and smiling weakly, “Yeah, just text us once you’re on your way home, okay?”

Y/n nodded and quickly ran out of her house, resting her back against her front door. She could hear the fighting resume and she wasted no time in getting in her car and driving away, but this time to Luke’s house. 

She parked on the side of the road, walking slowly up to the house. She really should’ve thought this plan through before she did it. She was nervous about whether or not she should’ve texted him or if he was home or not. She reached the front steps and realized it was too late to turn back once her fist hit the wood of their door. 

Jack opened the door with his usual boyish grin, but it turned down to a frown once he realized the expression on her face, “Y/n?”

“Hey, um… Is Luke here?” He shook his head softly, “He went out with some of his friends about an hour ago. Did you need something?”

She bit her lip, “Uh, no. It’s okay actually. I’ll just text him to tell me when he gets home. Thanks though, Jack. I’ll see you later.” 

She walked back down the steps and was halfway to her car when she heard her voice being called, “Y/n?”

“Yeah?”

“Come inside.” Locking eyes with him, she nodded and walked back to the house and inside, taking her shoes off. 

He led her to the living room where he and Quinn had been sitting with a bucket of popcorn and a random movie on. Quinn smiled up at her and quickly blinked away the confusion in his eyes as he heard her voice, “Hi.”

He scooted over, allowing her to sit on the couch in between the two of them, “I’m sorry for coming over unexpectedly. I was just hoping Luke would be here.”

“It’s okay, you want to tell us what’s going on?” 

She looked between them hesitantly before speaking, “It’s really nothing, I’m just overreacting probably.”

“Trust me, I’m probably the most over-dramatic person on this planet. And I can tell by the look on your face that whatever has you like this is probably warranted.”

“I got yelled at.” The two furrowed their eyebrows and she sighed, “I know, I’m 21 and I’m crying because I got yelled at. That’s not the reason I’m like this though. Well partly.”

The two nodded, urging her to continue, “After they yelled at me they started fighting with each other, and I- I finally realized that as I get older, I think their fighting just hurts worse.”

She couldn’t help but sob at the realization, curling into a ball on the couch. Quinn and Jack shared a look before Quinn wrapped her into a hug, his older brother instincts kicking in. Hearing someone who was like his little sister cry hurt more than he could ever imagine and he just wanted to make her feel better. Jack felt the same and ran to grab one of Luke’s sweatshirts and some ice cream from the freezer, coincidentally her favorite flavor. 

As he reapproached the couch, y/n had slightly uncurled herself from Quinn’s grasp and was wiping her tears off with her hand a little harshly. She chuckled dryly, “This is so embarrassing.”

“No, it’s not, I’ve had fans cry in front of me before.” Quinn smacked him on the back of his hand from behind her causing her to giggle a little. 

The two smiled and Jack sat down next to her handing her her boyfriend’s sweatshirt, “I figured this would probably help.”

“Thank you, Jack.” She quickly threw the hoodie on, snuggling slightly into the fabric. 

He then handed her the bowl of ice cream, “I also found this in the freezer. I think Luke bought it just in case you came over one day.”

She smiled down at it, noticing the ice cream was her favorite, “He sure does know how to make me smile even when he’s not here.”

They sat in silence before she looked between the two, “Thank you, guys.”

“Of course, we’ll be here if you ever need us. What are big brothers for.”

“We’re not even related.” She laughed and sniffled, wiping her tears still. 

They shrugged, “We know, but like I said the night of that event we went to, it’ll happen eventually.”

Quinn handed her the remote, allowing her to scroll through the channels or go onto Disney or Netflix. She settled on one of her favorite movies to watch with Luke and leaned back on the couch. When she was done with the ice cream, she stood to put it up in the sink but Jack grabbed it from her grasp and placed it on the table, “We’ll do it later.”

She nodded softly, curling up in the blanket that rested on her lap. Quinn eyed her carefully, “Tired?”

“Just a little.”

“You can sleep if you want to, we’ll wake you up when Luke gets back.”

“Okay.” And within minutes, she was asleep. Her head fell to the side landing on Quinn’s shoulder who just smiled down at her. 

❛ ━━･❪ ❁ ❫ ･━━ ❜

•❅ 《 𝘉𝘖𝘕𝘜𝘚 𝘚𝘊𝘌𝘕𝘌 》 ❅•

The two got home and without even waiting for Jack, y/n ran upstairs to their apartment as quickly as she could, immediately going into Luke’s room. It was dark and she could barely see the outline of Luke’s body in the bed. She walked over quietly, kicking her heels off delicately. She kneeled on the bed, reaching out to card through his curls, “Lukey.”

She received no response and murmured his name once more. This time he stirred a little, groaning and protesting at being woken up, “I’m sorry baby. We’re home.”

He blinked his eyes open and looked up at her, smiling softly, “Hi.”

“Hi, baby. How are you feeling?”

He shook his head and untangled one of his arms to wrap around her waist. He pulled her close to him, burying his head into her stomach as she continued to kneel on the bed. She sat there for a few moments, running her hand through his hair. Her dress started to become tight and uncomfortable and she whispered, “Can I go change, Luke? I’ll be right back, I promise.”

He shook his head and only tightened his hold on her as much as he could, “Stay.”

“I will after I go change. This dress is a little too uncomfortable to sleep in.”

She smiled when he loosened his grip and got off the bed to change as quickly as possible. She came back with a damp washcloth and sat down on the bed, letting Luke pull her back to him. He curled up into a ball in front of her, his head resting in her lap. She was thankful that she threw on one of his sweatshirts because she knew she wouldn’t be able to pull up the blankets all night with him in her lap. 

She ran the washcloth over his forehead, ignoring his slight moans of protest. She leaned over the bed to make sure there was a bucket on the side and she sighed in relief when there was one. Despite Luke wearing two sweatshirts and a pair of sweatpants, he was shivering and only curled up into her more. She frowned again, pulling the washcloth away, “Alright, Lukey. We gotta take these sweatshirts off, you’re burning up.”

“No.” He protested, “‘m cold.”

“I know baby, I do. But you’re not going to get better if we don’t get your temperature down.” He sighed but knew she was right, so he allowed her to pull both of his sweatshirts over his head before curling back into her.

“Alright, I’ll be here, you can go to sleep now.”

“Promise you aren’t leaving?”

“I promise, sweetheart.”

“Okay.” 

It took him a matter of seconds to go back to sleep and y/n sat there peacefully, staring at the wall lost in her thoughts. Jack opened the door and her gaze shifted over to where he was standing, “How’s he doing?” 

“Not good, I think his temperature has gotten worse. If it’s still bad tomorrow, we’re probably gonna have to take him to the doctor.”

He nodded, “You going to be okay?”

“My legs might go numb, but if he wants to sleep here, I’m not going to  say anything.”

❛ ━━･❪ ❁ ❫ ･━━ ❜

•❅ 《 𝘉𝘖𝘕𝘜𝘚 𝘚𝘊𝘌𝘕𝘌 》 ❅•

The door clicked open and Luke walked into the house, still trying to figure out if he just imagined y/n’s car outside their house. He took off his shoes and walked into the living room finding his brothers and his girlfriend sleeping on the couch. He raised an eyebrow and went to go to his bedroom but stopped when he heard his name. He looked back and saw Quinn standing up, “She came over about an hour or two ago.”

“Oh, I wish she would’ve texted me, I would’ve come home.”

“She got into a fight with her parents.” Luke’s eyes softened and his lips turned downwards, “Oh.”

“She was pretty torn up, we got her one of your hoodies and some ice cream and then she crashed. I’ll wake Jack up and you guys can have the couch.”

“Thank you.”

Quinn lightly shook Jack awake, who jumped in response. He was immediately shushed and his eyes followed his older brother’s finger to where Luke was standing. He nodded and got up, the two of them making their way to their respective bedrooms. The younger one sat down on the couch, running a hand through his girlfriend’s hair. Y/n stirred slightly and blinked her eyes open slowly. Her eyes focused on her boyfriend, shifting closer to him, “Hi.”

“Hey, sweetheart. I heard you got into a fight again?”

She nodded and closed her eyes as Luke ran his fingers through her hair. He frowned but knew that she wouldn’t want to talk about it much not only because she was asleep, but mainly because he knew she would lose it and be embarrassed even more than she had been earlier. He let her sleep in her lap and y/n was grateful for it. 

They never needed to share any words when something was wrong, they just knew what it was or when it happened and were there for each other. Whether it was Luke when he was sick or y/n when she got into a fight with her family, the two were by each other’s side as soon as they needed to be. And that’s what made them fit together.

© cupidbedsy ; do not copy, repost, or translate my work and designs on any other website or here

[forever-rogue]

Hey,,, I noticed you have only been writing Marc smut which is VERY appreciated but also. The idea that he has a softer side melts me. I was wondering if you could write something about him coming home stressed and just general fluff cuddles love (no 18+, just love) You are epic :) <3

AN | You want some softness? You get some softness🥺

Pairing | Marc Spector x Fem!Reader

Warnings | None

Word Count | 1.8k

Masterlist | Main, Moon Knight

── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──

It was getting late. The dinner and dessert you’d spent half the afternoon making were getting cold as they sat on the counter. You’d gone through several glasses of wine as you sat at the kitchen table, waiting for him to walk through the door. Any time a notification popped up on your phone, your heart flipped in anticipation that it would be him. There had been nothing but radio silence from him. 

As the sun had set, slowly painting the kitchen in hues of pastel oranges and pinks, eventually settling into the darkness of the evening, you grew increasingly worried. There had been times before when he’d be late or even disappeared for a day or two longer than anticipated but it never seemed to get to you as much as it did now. You knew what went on with him, you knew what he did - who he was  - but you still worried about him. You knew you wouldn’t feel relieved until the moment he came home. Any time you heard any bits of noise from the other side of the door, you perked up, hoping it would be him. But he hadn’t come. 

You hadn’t been able to muster up the appetite to eat anything and eventually ended up putting everything away and dragging yourself to bed. It was no use staying up and worrying about when he’d come home. You might as well try and get some sleep and hope that you’d either wake up next to him or he’d be back in the morning.

Once you dragged yourself into your bedroom, you didn’t even have the energy to change and instead just flopped onto the bed. You were out like a light within minutes. 

But you were awake just as quickly as you had fallen asleep, you were startled awake by the sound of the front door opening and closing. You sat up and looked at the alarm clock, the bright red letters screaming at you that it was the very early hours of the morning. 

“Marc,” his name fell from your lips as you scrambled to get up, almost tripping over your own feet as you ran to the door. You spotted him then, hanging his head and using one of the chairs to hold himself up. You were sure he had heard you but he didn’t move, letting you go to him, “honey.”

You wrapped your arms around him, resting your head on his back. One of his hands found yours and he gently squeezed it before letting out a long, tired sigh. You pressed a few kisses to his shoulder before whispering how much you loved him in his ear.

After a few minutes he turned around so he was facing you and you could see just how tired he really was. He had dark circles under his eyes, his stubble was darker than he normally allowed to get, his inky curls a mess. There was a small cut on his cheek that caused you to tut at him before you gently touched his face. 

“Hi sweetheart,” his voice was low - tired - as he leaned into your touch. The corner of your mouth tugged up lightly at the moniker as he kissed your palm, “you should be sleeping.”

“I waited for you,” you whispered as the expression on his features softened, “but it got late so I went to bed. Woke up when I heard you come in.”

“I’m sorry for being so late,” he closed his eyes and shook his head, annoyed at himself more than anything, “I wasn’t…I didn’t get a chance to call or text.”

“Don’t be sorry,” you insisted, “I’m just glad you came home safe. I made your favorites for dinner and dessert, but that can all wait till later.”

“Have I ever told you that you’re the best, gorgeous girl?”

“A few times,” you beamed at him before nudging his hip with yours, “but I still like hearing it. Come on, let’s get you to bed.”

“‘m dirty,” he mumbled as he let you grab his hand and lead him down the hall, “tired. Sore.” 

“Let’s get you a shower first then, shall we?” you didn’t even wait for him to say a word before you opened the bathroom door and ushered him inside. He was so tired, so run down that you could practically see the weight wearing on his shoulders. Pulling back the curtain you turned on the shower, setting it to the temperature you knew he preferred, “come on, my love.”

You reached for the hem of his t-shirt and slowly tugged it over his torso, tossing it on the floor as you looked over the bruises and scratches he had. You didn’t say a word but he could see the concern written all over your face. You ran a hand through his curls, scratched lightly at his scalp before kissing along the bruises that littered his collarbone. His breath escaped in a little gasp at the tender gesture, causing you to smile against his skin.

You reached for the waistband of jeans and popped open the button and pulled down the zipper before pushing the pants down his legs, repeating the motions with his boxers. Once they pooled at his feet, you held out your hand to steady him as he kicked the offending articles off and into the pile with his shirt. 

Your hands found his shoulders as you got him into the shower. He stood there and watched you for a few moments as you stripped off your own clothes to join the growing pile. You stepped in next to him and pulled the shower curtain back, gently pushing him into the warm stream of water. A low groan escaped his lips as he relaxed under the warmth that hit his tired muscles. 

He moved to reach for his shampoo, but you wrapped your fingers around his wrist and pulled his hand away. He raised an eyebrow in question but you shook your head before grabbing the bottle yourself, “let me take care of you.”

For a moment it looked like he was going to argue with you, but instead his soft brown eyes searched yours as you nodded and eventually he breathed out a small, “please.”

“Of course,” you opened the bottle and poured some of the shampoo into the palm of your hand before turning him around to wash his hair. The simple act of washing his hair was something he still hadn’t gotten used to. It was such an intimate gesture, your touch so gentle and tender, that he couldn’t help but want to melt. You noticed his shoulders relaxing as you sang quietly under your breath to him. 

You carried on, washing the shampoo out of his hair before repeating the act with conditioner - before he met you he’d never bothered with the two step process, but even he had to admit his curls had never felt softer. Once you were satisfied with his hair, you reached for your body wash, the one that smelled like cocoa and coffee. Marc tilted his head to the side as he watched you with curiosity, “isn’t that the one you use?”

“It is,” you admitted as you made a show of opening it and pouring it on the loofah, “and you always comment on it when I use it, so now you can smell good too.”

“By all means,” despite how tired he was, a big, sleepy smile was on his face as he let you wash his aching body. You were both quiet as you washed him, making sure he was squeaky clean, washing the soap from his body and following it up with yours, pressing soft kisses to his shoulders and face.

“There we are,” you smiled softly as he turned around to face you. You quickly followed suit and washed your own hair and body before wrapping him in a tight hug as the two of you stood under the warmth of the water for a bit. Before you both became too pruny, you turned off the tap and opened the curtain to grab a fresh towel. You ran it through his wet hair before toweling his body dry, “feel better?”

“Yeah,” he nodded lightly as you grabbed a towel for yourself as the two of you stepped out of the shower, “thank you.”

“There’s nothing to thank me for,” you promised, “I want to do these things for you, Marc. Just as you do them for me.”

“It’s late,” he remarked as you pulled him into the bedroom and motioned for him to get on the bed. It was the middle of the night at this point, but it didn’t matter. All that mattered was that he was home, safe and sound. 

“I know,” you opened the dresser and pulled out clean pajamas for the both of you. You dragged your fingertips over his arm, silently telling to raise them. Once he did, you tugged the clean shirt on and then his bottoms. When he was dressed, you pulled back the soft blankets and made him get under them before changing yourself and getting in next to him, “it doesn’t matter though. I’m just happy you’re home.”

“Me too,” you scooted up to him so you were facing each other, the tips of your noses almost touching. He reached up and put his hand on your face, tenderly brushing your cheek, “I love you, sweetheart.”

“I love you too,” you whispered as he leaned in and gently kissed you. You couldn’t help but smile against his lips, “just rest now, Marc. Get some sleep - everything else can wait until the morning.”

“It is technically the morning,” he teased as you playfully rolled your eyes. You reached over him and switched off the bedside lamp. Before you could snuggle back down next to him, he grabbed your wrist and pressed a kiss to your knuckles, “good night, sweetheart.”

“Good night, my love.”

[moorishflower]

i wrote a lot of the Odyssey Hob fic today and so I can write more kink...as a treat...

@thunderburning it's your chance to shine

Warning: there's ambiguously-natured pussy under this cut! It's Hob/Dream flavored!

It's half-past eleven by the time that Hob turns out all the lights and finally drags himself to bed.

This wouldn't normally be that far out of his wheelhouse -- there's plenty of times he's not gone to sleep until the sun actually started rising -- except it's Sunday, he's still got eight essay responses on Molineux's Faces of Perfect Ebony to grade, there's a faculty meeting on Wednesday that Professor Belevonis has spent the last few months hounding him into presiding over,

(she thinks she's clever, but Hob subscribes to all the same newsletters, he knows when Tremblay is planning on releasing his newest paper, and he suspects that Stephanie has plans to get a. extremely drunk, and b. extremely spiteful, so that she can most effectively tear the man's research to shreds)

and, as the shit cherry on top of an already terrible cake, he'd gotten a text three hours ago from Quentin letting him know that the gent's toilets at the Inn had all begun to leak, slowly but inexorably, all at once.

Hence, the eight ungraded essays.

Tomorrow, he tells himself. He feels bone-weary right now, but if he can get at least a solid -- he checks the bedside clock -- six hours, he thinks he'll be able to fake his way through his first two classes. No one pays attention to Introduction to Medieval English Literature, not at 8 in the sodding morning, and his course on Chaucer and colonizing identities in the Middle Ages largely runs itself, so long as he gives the kids something to discuss and lets them build up a good head of steam.

So, with something of a plan in place, Hob strips himself down to his briefs, doesn't bother to put his clothes in the hamper, and collapses face-first into his pillows, fully intending not to wake until the dulcet tones of his alarm force him to do so.

Hob opens his eyes to a twilight so dark it seems to loop back around to brightness, the Milky Way a spill of countless white stars above him and the moon a perfect silver coin hung on threads of tinsel and gold, and also, someone's face is buried between his legs.

"Christ," he says, and reaches down to fist a hand in hair soft as dandelion fluff and glossy black as crow feathers, and he feels a hot laugh between the vee of his thighs, which, he realizes, are shuddering slightly, on account of the nose that's rubbing insistently at his clit.

"Good evening Hob," Dream rumbles, clearly pleased as punch with where he currently crouches, and every word he says sends another puff of breath gusting across him. If he grabs at Dream any harder he's going to start pulling hair out, so he does his damndest to relax his grip, even though every nerve in his body is telling him to grab Dream by the back of the neck and mash his face to Hob's cunt with enough force to break that dear, pointy little nose.

"S'that kind of night, then," Hob gets out, and lets his head fall back into soft grass, meadowsweet, lamb's ear, as Dream burrows further between Hob's legs, dragging his lips and his nose in a smear of pleasure along Hob's labia.

"I waited," Dream says, just petulant enough that Hob feels a bit bad, just demanding enough that he doesn't feel bad for long. "Matthew informs me you have had a trying day."

"Please don't talk about your weird bird when you've got your, hng." Hob doesn't get the chance to complain further, because Dream has stuck out his tongue and has dragged it in a long, wet glide from Hob's arsehole all the way to the tight strain of his clit.

"I thought I should oversee your rest personally."

"Kind of you," Hob says, dazed, and then scrabbles to grab fistfuls of bright-smelling greenery in one hand, petting Dream's hair with the other, over and over, his thighs trembling with the effort to stay still as Dream takes Hob's clit between his lips, all hard suction and the faintest pressure of teeth, until everything between his legs feels like a mass of fluttering birds, shivers wracking every muscle from his abdomen down. Dream winds him tighter and tighter, alternating between licking circles around Hob's cunny and sucking hard at his clit, until eventually he chances a look down and sees that the entire lower half of Dream's face, from his perfect sharp nose to his berry red mouth to the barest cleft of his chin, is soaking. Even his cheeks are come-shiny from where he's been rubbing them against Hob's thighs, and honestly, if the man was determined to lose a handful of hair then he ought have just asked.

Hob grabs a fistful of Dream's hair, just tight enough to feel the drag of resistance, and feels everything in him from belly down grow flashfire hot at the look of stunned arousal in Dream's face.

Hob drags him forward, plants his terrible, sinful, wonderful mouth against his cunt, and says, "Eat."

And Dream, the lines of his shoulders and spine gone tight and anticipatory and all of the Dreaming growing humid and rose-scented around them, is more than happy to oblige.

[toomanystoriessolittletime]

Kinktober 2022 - Prologue 

Summary: Max and you had been married for 12 years but after stressful years in his company that left you, frankly a little neglected you decide it's time to spice things up, hacking into his outlook calendar to make sure he had time for you every single day through out October.

Pairing: Modern!Maxwell Lord x Wife!Reader

Wordcount: 670

Rating: E

Warnings: guilt, neglecting, discussions of kinks, flirting

Masterlist Kinktober 2022

Prompt List by @absurdthirst

He frowned as he scrolled through his outlook calendar. 

Max had a long day at the office. Not the first long day at the office. He couldn’t remember the last time he went home at a reasonable hour. 

His guilty conscience came back full force whenever he thought of you, waiting for him at home. 

Maxwell and you had been married for almost twelve years. 

You had started out as his secretary (what a cliche right?) but now you were a businesswoman on your own with a very successful jewellery brand that made millions. 

He was beyond proud of you. 

But things had been hard in the last couple years. Black Gold was struggling and Max did everything in his power to save the company. And finally it seemed that his efforts were paying off. 

Black Gold was number three state wide in the renewable energy sector.

But he had to admit. It was hard to pull back from working 15 hour days for years to getting back to normal working hours. 

And he could finally afford it. To take time for himself. To take time for you. 

But there was always something left to do. Always something to take care of. An email to write, a phone call to make. 

He had to seriously change his priorities. 

He wanted to cancel the meeting with Carter tomorrow morning to have the whole day free to spend with you when he found that the meeting was already cancelled. He scrolled through his calendar, noticing several hours blocked in red, marked with private, everyday throughout the month of october. 

He was about to ask his assistant what this was about when an email arrived from you. 

Mr. Lord,

In my position as your wife (and former assistant, you really should change your passwords honey) I took the liberty to block time throughout the month of october to spend with me, your wife. You may ask yourself, why october? Why different amounts of hours? Why on different day times?

Well first, because these times worked best with both of our schedules. 

And…

Can you remember the last time we had sex? Because I can’t and I’m getting tired of using my hand. So to save my sanity, libido and get some… spice into our marriage we will try something called kinktober where we try out a new kink everyday throughout october.  

I love you and I want to be with you and not just sleep in a bed next to you when you come home after work exhausted. I love you for what you accomplished with your business in the last years, but now it’s time to take some time for us. 

I already chose the kink for tonight but we’ll decide together for the rest.

Your safe word is strawberry. Mine is peach.

I’ll see you when you get home. I’ll be naked.

Xo

Your wife

Max couldn’t stop the small tugging on his lips as he read your message. 

It seemed like both of you wanted to spend more time together. And you were right, he could not remember the last time the two of you had sex. 

Real sex. 

Not the rushed five minutes before he had to leave or you being so tired at night you fell asleep beneath him (his ego had taken a while to recover from that)

He clicked on the list you added, his eyes getting big as he read through all the kinks you had already marked your favourites from. 

You also had added some notes and he smiled, adding his own notes. 

He looked at the clock, noticing it was almost midnight already. He had spent the last three hours writing back and forth with you instead of going home. 

Leaving the office now he texted you. 

I’ll be waiting for you naked in our bed you texted back. 

He chuckled to himself, grabbing his stuff before he made his way out of his office. 

October was going to his new favourite month.

[itsonlydana]

Hey! First of all, I love your writing. Could I request some good old angst for Schlatt? Maybe something along the lines of forgetting an important event such as readers birthday or their anniversary bcs he's been busy with youtube or the podcast. A happy ending would be nice, though you can decide based on if you think it fits with your storyline or not. Thank you so much!

"Can you forgive me?" ➷ jschlatt

➛ pairing: cc!jschlatt x gn!reader

! warnings/tags: angst, hurt but comfort, bit of swearing

➛ words: 1,3k

♬ song: anchor - novo amor

➛ a/n: you guys seem to really like the schlatt content, huh? I mean I'm not complaining :D

tick

tock

tick

tock

The big hand of the clock above your TV continued to beat another minute, getting closer and closer to the 6 laughing down at you, even though you'd been trying to stop the hands with your thoughts for two hours. Not that it was really going to happen, but you lay on your couch anyway, feet dangling over the side rest, letting the passing time taunt you.

You were waiting.

For a message, a phone call, the ringing of your doorbell at first, but now you were just waiting for an apology.

With each tick your heart sank, throwing a new emotion into the cocktail of feelings bubbling inside you, threatening to boil over if you had to wait any longer.

"I'll change at six," you thought to yourself, kicking the side of your couch with your new shoes, even if it couldn't help it.

You wouldn't change at six.

You had had the same thought at half past five and at five, at a quarter to five and at half past four.

In the end, you would lie on that couch deep into the night in your clothes, which you had excitedly put on your dresser last night, and watch the clock as it made you aware that Schlatt was late.

No, he was late an hour after you were supposed to meet, now he owed you an explanation and then he could leave.

You didn't know where he was, what he was doing, but you knew how much he was hurting you right now. You would understand if he had texted you, but except for a few messages from friends or one from your mother who had dropped off the ingredients for the now cold pasta on the stove this morning, your cell phone remained silent.

How could he forget your anniversary? By now you were pretty sure he'd forgotten, after all, he hadn't checked in with you all day, talking about everything else on Twitter, making his stupid jokes.

As the 6 on the clock was struck by the big hand, you took a deep breath, you had now officially spent 12 hours of your second anniversary with Schlatt alone and you were officially late for what was supposed to be your trip to the movies, great.

The ringing of the doorbell surprised you, and even more surprising was the panicked look on Schlatt's face as you opened it for him, cheeks reddened by tears.

"What do you want?" you snapped, wanting him to feel how much he had hurt you.

Schlatt took a step towards you, but stopped when he saw you clinging to the door so that it wouldn't open wider than the small crack through which you were staring at him.

"Fuck, babe I'm really sorry. I was thinking about it yesterday-"

"Oh, you were thinking about it yesterday. Well, that's nice! Then it's all good if you remembered yesterday," you interrupted him laughing sarcastically. Schlatt gritted his teeth, looking like a dog that turned tail in shame when he knew what he had done wrong.

"(y/n), can I please come in and explain myself?" he asked, and despite your inner turmoil and desire to curl up crying in your bed, you stepped aside, letting him in.

A little awkwardly, Schlatt stopped in your hallway while you sat back down on the couch, peering into the kitchen where the pots still stood, a half-empty bottle of white wine beside them.

"Did you drink that wine because of me?"

You rolled your eyes. "Of course not, it was for the sauce, but thanks for the insinuation. Who doesn't love being accused of alcoholism."

Again Schlatt bit his teeth, everything he had said so far hadn't really helped his stand and you let him feel it with a demonstrative look.

Slowly he walked towards you, rummaging in his jacket pocket until he pulled out a small package, wrapped in pale pink wrapping paper and your name in his handwriting in the middle. "The gift is in no way my excuse, I had bought it for you and not for my behavior," he began, placing the gift on the cushion between you because you refused to accept it.

You thought about the carefully wrapped vintage sweater you had driven three hours to pick up from a vendor who was about to sell it to someone else, and which now lay wrapped on your bed, and your throat tightened.

As you continued to remain silent, Schlatt filled the awkward silence, "I didn't want to forgot or hurt you. The guys... I completely lost track of time this morning while recording and realized too late how late it was. I'm sorry, I came over right after that."

You winced at the mention of his friends, having to close your eyes to keep from crying out again. "Schlatt, you just have to understand that I feel like shit when you forget our anniversary and go have your fun with your friends instead," you tried to control the tears in your eyes by blinking. "I've been waiting all day for some kind of sign and what you gave me was a slap in the face."

"I know, I'm sorry. Is there anything I can do to make it up to you?", Schlatt ran his hands through his hair in despair, obviously suffering similarly to you and it hurt to see your lover like that.

It was not like Schlatt to forget something. He could usually remember anything, be it birthdays, or something you asked him to do, he usually never had trouble reminding you days or weeks later of what he was supposed to remember for you and after you finally told him how you felt, you were already feeling better.

"It's okay, everyone can forget things," you said softly, the desire to make him feel how much he had disappointed you gone in the wind. It was more important to you to spend the rest of the day with him, even if your actual plans had fallen through and you were off to a bumpy start.

You got up from the couch, got your present for him from your bedroom and sat down right next to him, pressing a kiss to his cheek. "Here, happy anniversary."

Schlatt shook his head. "No, I don't deserve that after my mistake.", he tried to give you the package back, but now you were the one shaking your head.

"Schlatt, it's for you and if you don't accept it I'll find a way to give it to you, because I didn't cross the country unnecessarily for it."

As if it were the most fragile thing in the world, Schlatt lifted the package onto his lap, carefully pulled off the glue strips and unfolded the paper. "Oh, my love" His breath caught in his throat. Tensely you watched as he held up the sweater he'd been searching all over the internet for three years and looked at it from all angles before turning to you "Is it the original?" he asked, eyes wide, and you nodded. "Holy fuck. I love you so much." In disbelief, he stroked the sweater before holding out his gift to you.

You, too, peeled the glue from the crackling paper, which you slowly pulled away, revealing a slender black box. Holding your breath, you lifted the lid. In front of you lay a thin silver chain, whose pendant were three small milky stones in which you could recognize a tiny flower.

They were the three blossoms from the first bouquet of flowers he had ever given you.

"I wanted to give you something special to remind you that I've loved you since our first date," Schlatt explained, helping you put on the necklace.

Sometimes you have to be able to forgive, no matter how hurt you were.

[nejiraez]

one day, you all will know true peace when i stop making bakugou the default character to the maladaptive daydreamz i write. but until then...

get well soon! | bakugou katsuki

pairing: bakugou katsuki x reader // 2.9k words

genre: fluff — contains spoilers from mha chap 298; includes kissing, thats it!

summary: free bakugou until it’s backwards!!! but until then, he appreciates having your presence around as he takes the time to properly heal.

the way i haven’t written a full fic since oct </3... but i needed to post this b4 aquarius season ends tmrrw...

He’s never had to stay this long in a hospital before.

Sure, there were minor check-ins that he had to tend to at the clinics every so often from the injuries he’s received, but he never had to stay more than a few days at hand.

“Only a couple more days until you’re discharged…” 

The sound of your voice prompts Bakugou to shift his gaze away from the TV screen stationed at the corner of his hospital room to focus his sights on you. Deep shades of scarlet watch as your hands absent-mindedly pick at the white petals from the bouquet that his mother had gifted him. 

Carnations, a ‘get well soon’ present that would prompt him back to wellness. They were becoming quite the eyesore. The stems were beginning to droop and dull in colour with how poorly maintained they had been kept for the past week.

“That must be exciting for you, yeah?”

Bakugou shrugs, but he’s quick to regret his slight movement due to the small wince that follows shortly after. Despite being placed in the hospital for a little over a week now, a great mass of Bakugou’s body still aches. “It’s whatever,” he mutters, dismissing the subject matter altogether, “I’ll be back to doing the same crap over again anyway, so it’s nothing special.”

Closing your eyes, you sink yourself further down into your seat near his bedside and sigh. The windows a few steps away from Bakugou’s left allow for the sun’s late afternoon glow to beam into his room. You’ve sat here with him for the past two hours and a half from when you first came.

“You’re so pessimistic, you know that?” You announce, resting your arms against the bed’s side rails, which promote access to you, propping your cheek onto your hands with your face turned towards Bakugou. “Always thinking so negatively.”

Choosing not to respond to your comment, Bakugou soaks in the brief silence shared within the confines of his room.

For the past few days, other than his immediate family, who was relentless about visiting him as much as they could- save for the days where work would pull them away- your regular visits were something that became apart of Bakugou’s daily schedule. 

Wake up. Eat whatever shitty food the kitchen staff has to offer for the day. Wait through numerous check-ups and appointments, while the nurses examine the vital state of his internal organs. And then, he has a bit of free time to himself before either you or any visitor arrives at Hosu General hospital.

“I’m just telling it as it is.”

Bakugou would be lying if he said that he didn’t look forward to your visits.

Like Pavlov’s law, he’s grown conditioned upon awaiting your arrival every day, always finding himself sitting a bit straighter in his bed whenever 15:00 rolled around on the clock. 

Growing bored with not much to do, Bakugou allows his eyes to wander the room, skimming each object with little to no thought before his eyes would drop down on your form once again. With your eyes still closed, Bakugou takes this chance to absorb your presence before him fully. Watching the tiny twitches that would happen every now and then on your face out of curiosity.

The amount of fear and dread that washed over you the moment you caught news of how Bakugou jumped in front of his childhood friend, Midoriya, to spare his life, in turn, putting his own on the line had you aching to the bone. 

You were scared and couldn’t bring yourself to the thought that you would lose him, and there wasn’t much that you could do about it since you and a few others were far from where the main fight had gone down.

Regardless of whether Bakugou had a chance of waking up or not, you were still adamant about swinging by his hospital room as often as you could until the second day where he miraculously woke up. And caused an uproar as he did. He had to be restrained as he tried to check up on the others’ wellbeing as he did so.

To be placed inside of a room alone, with no one around to tell him what the fuck exactly went on, Bakugou was on edge. Hands down, that day would take the cake as being the most overwhelming experience he has had at his time here. Where were was Deku, for starters? And where did you disappear off to? 

He really didn’t deserve you.

Pulling himself out from his thoughts, Bakugou breaks the silence to pester you with something. “Pass me that, will you?” He asks, nodding his head over to the sole snack that sat on his bedside table. Something that one of the nurses left behind for him after his physical exam.

You blink, snapping yourself back to reality. You crane your next behind you, following his line of sight to the bright Tarami packaging. “Sure,” you grab and toss it for him to take.

Bakugou grunts out his gratitude. “Getting to eat normal food again will be the pinnacle of my life,” he states, rolling the Tarami around in his hands. “They feed us nothing but literal dog water and bland shit. “

“I’m sure the staff is trying their best. You aren’t the only mouth they feed in here after all,” you say, referencing the fact that your other peers, such as Todoroki and Midoriya to name a few, found themselves in the same situation as he did. 

“I fuckin’ guess,” he mutters in response, his focus shifted onto trying to rip open his snack but to no avail.

“Want me to - ”

“Don’t need it,” he says, cutting your sentence short. His bandaged thumbs are still fumbling to get a good grip on the plastic seal that stood in the way between him and his fruit cup. “This stupid gauze is just - ” The cup tumbles out from his hold and rolls out onto his lap. “Dammit!”

You smile at the display in front of you. Bakugou glaring at the container as if it had crossed him wrong was quite the sight to see. The fact that he has shown no signs of making another attempt at opening the seal gave you an indication that it was your turn to step in.

What a dork.

“Jesus, Katsuki,” you say, shaking your head at his stubborn nature. You take the fruit cup off his lap and, without issue tear the seal off before passing it back to him. He was too headstrong for his own good sometimes. “Nobody’s gonna bite you if you ask for help once in a while.”

Bakugou scoffs - losing steam now, he tips the rim of the cup against his lips, knocking back as many diced peaches he could fit inside of his mouth.

A mix of wonder and admiration suddenly crosses you as you study how quick he is to swallow down his food. Not even bothering to make use of the silver spoon left astray on the stand.

Bakugou silently chews. His cheeks have bulked up in size for the time being until all traces of food have been gone. Cute. “You’re so - ” You start but cut yourself short, wanting to enjoy the serene atmosphere rather than spurring him to the edge towards nagging at you.

You reach your hand out towards Bakugou, thumb grazing the corner of his mouth to clean the small mess he has made, to which he gently swats your hand away. His mannerisms were still the same as ever, never changing.

“I’m so what?” He asks, flicking his attention onto you as he watches the way your eyes linger on his face.

“You’re so amazing, was what I was going to say.” 

“Damn straight.”

You half-heartedly roll your eyes at his narcissistic response and reach for your phone, checking the time. “Wow, it’s now getting to 18:00?” You exclaim, swiftly entering the passcode to your iPhone and so that your fingers could scroll to the Tokyo Train Navigation app to check the times of when you should catch the next ride home.

Bakugou brows bump together in confusion at your surprise. “What about it? That means you’re ditching me already?” 

“Only for today though, the next train is coming in 30 minutes, and I gotta catch it before it gets dark out.”

As much as Bakugou isn’t a big fan of having your time spent together but abruptly short, he understands where you’re coming from, mentally putting himself in your shoes. 

At hours like these, when the begins to sun hide behind the city’s tall, towering buildings, it isn’t an ideal situation to have you walking out alone in the middle of dimly lit streets where villains may lurk at any corner. Especially after the shit show that went down this past week with the jailbreak.

He’d have no problem walking you home at times like this, but he can’t. Not when he’s on a “house arrest” list with the staff of the hospital.

“Fine,” he replies, dropping his head into his hands, which then finds purchase through his hair. Pissed with the cards he’s been dealt with. Feeling like he should clarify about your safety, Bakugou pipes up, “Make sure you ask the front desk to have one of their idiot guards walk you to the station. I hear that they do that.”

“Yeah, of course,” you say, collecting your belongings from the ground. “Not trying to be edited in with the clouds.” A remark that was supposed to prompt a lighthearted, humorous feel to the conversation, but Bakugou remains tight-lipped as ever. A fitting expression for your grouch of a boyfriend.

“I’m serious. Text me when you get home too.”

“And so am I! I love my life.”

And he loves you-- was something that Bakugou refrains himself from saying. It was something that he still had trouble saying verbally but had no difficulty expressing.

You walk towards the door, ready to bid your counterpart a farewell, but he beats you to the punch.

“The hell are you doing?” Bakugou’s voice halts you from making your grand exit.

He stares at you sharply from his bed. Glowering with jaw taut as he eyes your hand placed onto the sliding door. “Cut that shit out, come back.”

“For why?”

You hear Bakugou breathe out a hushed hiss, becoming peeved at how evasive you were when he knew for a fact that you were aware of what he wanted you to do for him. “Come and do the thing.”

At his sudden inquiry, you finally turn around to face him. “What thing?” You prod, wanting to hear him say what he wanted out loud. To be straightforward with you for once rather than dancing around the topic like he always does.

Sidestepping the multiple wires and the IV tube that he was hooked up to, at last, you close the distance between you both. Finding yourself back beside Bakugou’s bed, and now settle yourself down onto the small space that he has created for you on his mattress. 

You feel giddy. A hazy warmth exudes from your chest that spreads down to your toes as you watch the slow change of pigmentation in Bakugou’s face. Blotches of a soft, rosy pink littered his exposed neck, indicating the effect that had over him.

Caving in, Bakugou swallows down his pride and utters, “Kiss me…” His tone is wavering in the slightest.

There it was.

Propping your hand near Bakugou’s face to steady yourself, you nod. You’re gentle in the process as you move much closer to Bakugou, attentive as not to brush up against any of his wounds. “Okay,” you murmur. 

You think to yourself about how pretty looks from your point of view. Admiring how Bakugou's plush and soft skin was despite the light bruises and scratches he’s gained from the fight, he looked very well-maintained for a hospital patient.

The more time that you take, you become aware of the fact that Bakugou isn’t above taking a fistful of your shirt and tugging you down so that you could meet his lips. Hell, it wouldn’t surprise you if he were to do so right now.

But he doesn’t. 

Instead, he waits. Patiently, for you to make your move and just fucking kiss him already. Though there’s only so much he can take before he breaks.

Feeling the bed dip beside him, Bakugou could damn near feel his heart hammering against his chest. “Hurry up and get on with it will you,” he chides, his striking features already beginning to twist into an unreadable expression.

You laugh, unable to bite back your giggles as the male fixed you with his signature scowl. “Look at you, being a bully to the person you want a kiss from...” You say, leaning in close, now only hovering a few mere centimetres from his lips, both of you desperate for what would come next.

“You’re so mean, I swear.”

And that’s when you decide to close the distance, pressing your lips together.

It was quite sweet, literally, for his lips tasted of citrus.

Bakugou does a poor job at suppressing down his groan the moment your fingers wind themselves into his hair. The pads of your fingertips adoringly dance across his scalp.

The kiss starts off relatively chaste, both of you relishing in each other’s warmth as you pepper several small kisses against him—your stomach ties into knots as you experience how gentle he was being with you.

Despite the dull aching pains that Bakugou could still perceive whenever he made broad movements with his arm, his hand steadily finds its way to reach up towards your neck, pressing you further against him to deepen the kiss, swiping his tongue upon your lower lip. 

When your tongue comes into contact with his, it’s tentative and quick. And then it happens a few more times before fully feel comfortable enough to full-on kiss Bakugou.

Your thought process was growing muddled. Not a clear premise came to mind as his bandaged hand trails to the small of your back and back up again.

With every sound or hum of approval that you made way past your lips, it fed Bakugou’s desire to satisfy both you and his needs even. His thumb smooths over the curve of your jaw, easing your nerves each time you shyly pull away attributable to the great intimacy that swirled between you both.

He chases your lips, fervent on returning your energy that you were relaying to him, back tenfold. He loves you. So fucking much, and he only hopes that his appreciation and devotion may reach you.

You choke on a tiny gasp. “Katsuki - ” And that’s when he feels it, right in his chest. It’s as if he has been jump-started back to life, his heart quite literally skipping a beat at the sound of his name tumbling past your lips. It was adorable, and he wanted to hear you like that again. Say his name like that again, on loop without end.

Fuck.

With adrenaline coursing through your veins, your breathing was starting to grow laboured now, and you decide to break the kiss before things can escalate and before you miss your train.

Pulling away from Bakugou, the traces of confidence that you once had prior to the kiss have all but flung itself out the window, completely gone now. “I’ll, uhm -” You stammer over your words, brain trying to compose a proper sentence in spite of your current dazed state. “I’ll be back to see you again, with the others.”

With how flustered and scatterbrained you were acting, it stroked Bakugou’s ego beyond belief. A wicked smile threatens to split upon his face, but he bites it down along with his greed to ask for one more kiss before you go. “Tomorrow,” he affirms, flicking his eyes back towards the TV—an entirely new show publicized on its screen.

You hoist yourself up from the bed and stand to your feet, ignoring how your knees almost buckle. “Right,” you say. No fucking way were you this beat up over making out with your own boyfriend, for crying out loud- you thought as you wander towards the door, almost taking out one of the monitors in your trail. 

Sliding the door open you step out, but you poke your head back in, stalling a bit so that you could look at the blonde for the last time that day. “But until then, get well soon, okay?” 

Bakugou’s eyes stay glued to the screen, trying to distract himself from how damn sweaty his palms were, that or how he could feel the beat of his heart pick up in tempo. Its incessant pounding was all too much for him.

It’s so stupid how whipped he found himself to be nowadays. “I know,” he dismisses, a bit all too quickly. He wants your ass out before you have a chance to glance at the heart monitor he was wired up to.

Fortunately enough for him, you don’t. You wave and close the door behind you, your smile being the last thing he sees.

With the coast clear, Bakugou throws himself back onto his mountain of pillows. “Shit,” he curses, panting out a sigh of relief seconds after you were gone.

That was amazing, you were amazing, he thought, recounting the kiss. He swipes his palms against his sheets, being sure to get rid of any nitroglycerin that may linger to activate his quirk successfully.

Bakugou can’t stress how much he’s aching for nightfall to come, knowing that he would be one sleep from getting to see you again, and again, and again, until he would finally be let free.

But until then, as you had said, he had to heal.

And with the knowledge of you being around whenever he needed you the most, Bakugou was most definitely on the bright path to a speedy recovery.