#i turn 15 in two months. feeling so far behind

[hauntedhopeghost]

why is it the older i get the more i start to hate my own accomplishments. actually it’s always been this way so yeah.

but in a few months i’ll be a year older. and it makes me feel like i’m way too stupid compared to everyone my age.

yes i know i can’t compare myself. yes. i’ve heard that a million times.

i still feel like nothing thinking i have to be everything. and i know i could do better. but i’m just hating everything i’m doing.

but also there’s just. smaller things. my Lutz and Flip are finally coming together. (latter i can now land easily at a given time) I opened IBIS paint and drew something for the first time. and. people. are. complimenting me?

what?

ghost, are you sure they don’t pity you?

but someone i admired said they liked my writing.

but someone i’m jealous of is actually jealous of me.

but they keep saying i’m great. they keep saying i’m good.

still not perfect. but that’s fine. it’s still stupid either way even if it somehow were.

i wonder if it’s this bad for me, if it’s even worse for other people. people who still feel as though they’ve accomplished nothing.

i’m still young. technically. but all i can ever do is get a little bit older even though i’ve done that. “you’re so mature for your age!”

well. yeah. i guess i was. am i still?

is there a certain age where it all stops being “for your age?”

ghost, you’re so young. ghost, you shouldn’t be worrying about this. ghost, you still have a lot of time to think about it.

…

no. i really. really don’t.

i might as well not have existed. I might as well died in a way that feels as though I’m still living on with a shadow of myself.

but that’s fine. i’m used to that. i’ll survive.

i just wonder if it’s ever going to get better. ❤️‍���� for me. because it never felt as though it did.

but maybe i’m being ungrateful again

and i suppose i’ve been through quite a lot.

[101maverick]

Damian Wayne Ah Ghul with a reader who is super shy? Like she meets his family and she's practically hiding behind Damian? No pressure, but I'm just a naturally shy person myself.

A/n: I've been thinking of a meeting like this for a while now! tho in my daydreams the reader is a lot more bubbly and stuff, but this one is super fun too! I think I might write them both out :) When it comes to Damian I tend to envision him around his canon age (12ish I think?) because it gives me agency to explore puppy love and I find it so cute! Plus I'm a sucker for school shenanigans hehe🤭 Here Damian is around 15-16 :) Hope you enjoy!! If you like my work, please consider reblogging and checking out my other works through the master list in my pinned post<3

Word count: 1642

Meeting the Family

Your hands are clammy.

Not even overtly so, just enough to make you uncomfortable, to get that unbearable out-of-place sensation one always gets when something's slightly wrong and it feels like life has decided to point a spotlight to it.

You nervously adjust your dress' skirt, fiddling with the hem to make sure it sat at just the right height. You had spent an embarrassing amount of time picking it out, having Damian come by your house earlier than necessary to make sure your choice was appropriate for this occasion, along with your hair and what little makeup you had decided to put on.

He had assured you countless times that you 'could never be anything less than far above standard' , and while that did put you at ease you still have to do your best to relax as you build up the courage to enter the house, Damian waiting by your side.

You and Damian had started 'dating' around three months ago now, and this was your first time meeting his family.

Whenever you think back to how he proposed to you a chuckle curls your lips upward, remembering how out of your depth you felt as he announced his intent of 'courting' you while he held a baby kitten out to you.

The memory loosens you up a bit, and you nod to Damian, who rings the doorbell. He's been holding your hand the whole time, something you find extremely sweet. He gives your hand a squeeze.

Sooner than you'd like, the door opens and you are greeted by the Wayne family's butler, who your boyfriend had informed you is basically like a grandfather figure for them.

He’s an older man, standing tall in a prim and creaseless suit despite his age. His eyes crinkle as the corners of his mouth uptick just the slightest bit, remaining composed as he greets you two.

“Ah, Master Damian, you have finally returned with our guest I see.” He says, looking at your boyfriend. He then turns to you. “My name is Alfred Pennyworth. It is a pleasure to finally meet you, miss…” he trails off.

You can feel your cheeks burn up, and your tongue tangles up as you haste to give him your name. You try to downplay the stutter as much as you can, and rush through the rest of greetings and pleasantries. “It is very nice to meet you as well, mr. Pennyworth.”

Mr. Pennyworth just nods curtly and opens the door wider, making space for you and Damian to enter. "I am glad, miss. Please, follow me to the sitting room." After a nod from Damian, he turns around and starts walking down the hallway to the left of the grand staircase the Manor's foyer opens up to.

The ceiling is extremely tall in this part of the house, two stories high at the very least. The ancient mahogany of the staircase is intricately carved, and the deep, rich blue-green carpet covering the steps gives the entire ensemble a much more regal look, with the way it matches the curtains that are pulled apart to let in all the midday light from the six-feet tall arch windows. It feels way too regal for someone like you.

Damian, on the other hand, looks completely in his element. Not only is this his house, he just fits in with this sort of environment, this regal, sophisticated, high-class one. The blue-green of the curtains and carpets makes the emerald of his eyes pop, and the dark mahogany compliments his tanned skin, reflecting the golden glow of the sun.

Looking at him, you feel a bit surer of yourself, and you straighten your shoulders to match his stance. You're just meeting his family. You can do this.

Mr. Pennyworth leads you to the sitting room. Damian's entire family is lounging there, the majority sitting up while a few rest on the plush couches and chairs. The moment you step foot in the doorway, all conversation stops and all eyes turn toward you.

You can't do this.

————————————

Each of the Wayne family members are here, it seems, and the more you stand there the more you want to crawl out of your skin.

All of these people have been gathered here today for a family lunch because you have come over, and dang if that doesn't make you feel like the inconvenience of the year.

Only a fool doesn't know about how important each of them is, and you certainly aren't one.

Richard "Dick" Grayson, world-class acrobat and notorious heartthrob since his teens, and he surely has better places to be today than here. Keeping up with all of his connections is basically a full-time job, with how Gotham socialites are.

Jason Todd, recently come back from his years-long trip around the world, could be playing golf with the Prince of England right now instead of meeting his youngest brother's high-school girlfriend.

Timothy Drake, at nineteen is C.E.O. of Drake Industries and Bruce Wayne's representative for Wayne Enterprises, right now he could be closing billion-dollar business deals.

Duke Thomas, had graduated from high school at sixteen and at eighteen is in the most prestigious chemistry program in the Continent, he could be studying for the cure of cancer right now.

Cassandra Cain, Bruce Wayne's only daughter and an extremely elusive person for the media, you're sure she'd much rather a virtual stranger wasn't snooping around in her family's home.

There are also two other people, a red-haired woman that looks to be around Dick Grayson's age and a blonde girl around nineteen.

And, of course, there's Bruce Wayne in the flesh. Billionaire, philanthrope, C.E.O. of Wayne Enterprises, arguably the most important person in Gotham and certainly the richest person in New Jersey. One of his charities is always in sight every time you turn a corner on the street in Gotham Proper, his company's name is plastered on almost every single electronically device you can find, and his name is always in the mouth of the press, making headlines day in-day out.

Oh Gosh, you can already imagine it. 'Lowly peasants thinks she can date his son, Brucie Wayne obliterates her and her dynasty'.

Before you know it, your breathing has become laboured and you're standing pressed to Damian's side, trying to fuse with his shadow.

You have no idea how you're gonna hold a conversation with all of these people.

Damian, bless him, saves you. "If you all could quit ogling my beloved like imbeciles, we could go on with introductions." His chin is held up high, and he takes turns staring into each of his family members' eyes, as if daring them to object. With the way he's standing, his body almost covers you, giving you a blanket of security that allows you to relax.

The rest of the room's occupants regain their composure, and Mr. Wayne breaks out into a blinding smile, coming up to you.

"Pardon me! We just hadn't heard you coming down the hallway is all. It's a pleasure to finally meet you." Mr. Wayne holds out his hand, and you shake it. His grip is gentle. "Come in, please, make yourself comfortable."

Damian guides you to a couch next to which is a window. The rays of sun catch in his dark hair, reflecting almost-blue. He looks at you, and as he does so you relax. Damian may rarely show it but he has an extremely expressive face, and you have learned to read it.

Right now you read sureness in his jaw, calmness in the set of his brow and something warm and reassuring in the slightest widening of his eyes, the one that happens specifically when e tilts his head downwards to fix his gaze better in yours.

"I must admit I've been waiting for this moment for a good while, I was very curious. Damian has talked a lot about you."

Your eyebrows raise. You start fidgeting with Damian's hand in your lap. "Oh, he-he has?" It comes out as a mumble. You'd beat yourself up over it in normal circumstances but as it stands, you're just glad you are talking at all.

This thought is overshadowed by an eruption of laughter from further inside the room.

"Oh yes he has, the brat has been talking our ears off all day for months! By how he talks, he thinks you've hung the moon and the stars in the night sky." A cackle follows the sentence. You're pretty sure your cheeks are on fire.

Next to you, you notice the tips of Damian's ears turn darker. "Quit your complaining, Todd. It is not my fault if everything you do is subpar compared to her every action."

"Da-Damian!" You whisper-yell next to him, "You can't just say that!"

"Oh, don't worry," Pipes up someone from a chair. You recognise him as Timothy Drake. "Seeing as you've put up with him for months, I think we all believe it. It takes the patience of a saint to do that." He says, a slight smirk on his face.

The rising of cackles in the air and the indignant squawk from Damian pull a little giggle from you, and you squeeze Damian's hand while Dick Grayson placates him.

Mr. Pennyworth, who had disappeared down the hallway after you had reached the sitting room, reappears at the entrance. 1679

“Masters, Misses, the lunch is ready. If you may follow me to the dining room…”

“Thank you Alfred.” Says Mr. Wayne, and after a curt nod from the butler everyone files out of the sitting room.

As you take your place next to Damian at the dining table, listening to Damian and Timothy bicker, you feel more at ease than you ever hoped of feeling while waiting on the front steps.

Your hand is warm in Damian’s still.

————————————

A/n: I wish I had been able to put more Damian/Reader interaction in this but in order for it to work in my vision of their eventual relationship I need them to be alone so unfortunately it couldn't happen for this pic :( I do have more Damian x Reader requests in my inbox tho so there's a high chance I'll be able to expand on it! Plus I'm considering making a list of head canons for Damian and Reader's relationship >:)

[yourstru1y4ever]

Day 15 - "Are you jealous?"

Pairing: Satoru Gojo x F!Reader Word Count: 2.5k (WHOO) Content: Fluff, fighting a curse (no one gets severely injured :D), Gojo's past, Reader is Kaori's younger sister, somewhat canon compliant Tuna-Tober 2024 Masterlist <- check out the other fics posted this month!

A/N: Another taste of my upcoming series that I’m hoping to put out once I finish Tuna-Tober! I do some liberties from canon since we don’t know that much about Kaori before. . . y’know. . . Let me know if you want to be tagged in the series if you enjoyed this little preview! And as always be sure to like, reblog and comment if you'd want to see more! - Yours Truly

June 7, 2007

Apparently after the stunt you pulled during the Exchange Event a few weeks ago your sister’s clan reached out to her, accepting you both into the clan. You had to go back home to Sendai and deal with negotiations with her. They would never accept that Kaori married a human, not even capable of jujutsu, nor their son.

You talked to Yaga a few days ago and he agreed to let either Gojo or Geto take your missions for you while you were gone. As you step back into your house you remember the words Yaga mentioned.

A cursed object went missing in Sendai not long ago. We’re sending some sorcerers there but given you’re up for promotion, keep an eye out. 

“Auntie!!” Your nephew runs up to you as soon as you walk through the front door.

“Yuji!!” You match his excitement, kneeling down to pick him up. Once he’s in the air he’s giggling holding onto you.

“Goodness you’re getting so big now, I can barely. . .” You slowly drop to your knees dramatically, “Lift you up anymore. . .” You set him on the ground and collapse on the floor. Yuji keeps giggling at you and tries to turn you to your side.

“Come on, Auntie!” You keep your eyes closed, but you stick out your tongue like you’re dead. “I know you’re okay. Get up!!” He laughs and you can’t help but to smile along with him. You suddenly grab him, pulling him into a hug and you're both laughing.

You hear someone clear their throat and you look up to see Wasake, Kaori, and Jin looking down at the two of you. Yuji squirms out of your hold and runs up to his dad, his smile never waning.

“She’s home! She’s home!” Yuji tells him as you start to stand up.

“Welcome home.” Your sister says, her smile not reaching her eyes.

“Thank you,” You try to give her a reassuring smile back but she turns to Wasuke before she could notice.

“My sister and I have business to take care of tonight. Don’t worry about saving dinner for us, we won’t be home until late.” 

Wasuke gives her a tense look but nods his head.

“I understand. Jin, can you take her suitcase up to her room?”

“Of course,” Jin walks over and picks up your suitcase while holding Yuji in his other arm. “It’s nice to have you home.” He whispers to you.

“It’s nice to be back.” You reply.

Kaori crosses between you two and opens the front door, “Let’s go, it’s rude to keep our guests waiting.”

You straighten up and look towards Jin. He shrugs while Yuji gives you and Kaori a huge wave, “Bye Mommy! Bye Auntie!!”

“Goodbye sweetheart,”

“See ya kiddo!” You give him an enthusiastic wave back as you leave. Once the door closes the air suddenly feels tense. Kaori walks a few paces in front of you as you make sure you have everything on you.

You were meeting the clan head and a few members of their board to go over the negotiations so you were both dressed modestly, but nice. You were wearing a dress that Gojo had bought for you for your two month anniversary and heels that matched. The meeting place wasn’t far from your home so walking there wasn’t a pain.

Kaori stops in front of a house that’s behind a set of gates, and as soon as you're by her side she rings the buzzer. The gate doors swing open and you both walk side by side up to the front door. You bow your heads and when you bring your head up you see the clan head looking down at you both with a curiosity you haven’t seen before.

You keep your face straight as you make eye contact with him.

“So she’s the one with the inherited technique?” A voice asks from behind him, “My future wife?”

Your eyes widen and you look behind the Elder. A boy, possibly a year younger than you, gives you and Kaori a disgusted look as he crosses his arms behind him. He looks weak and pathetic, his hair slightly greasy and he looks like he hasn’t bathed himself in days.

“The girl with that ugly scar on her head?”

“No child, the younger one.” The clan head’s voice was rough and showed his age. 

“Your father might have had one too many whores, but at least this child was able to inherit our technique.” He gestures vaguely at you and your hand tightens into a fist. You try to center your breath so you don’t immediately fight these stupid-

“The eldest and I will have a conversation inside; Masamune,” The clan head points to the boy, “She’s your future wife, keep her safe.” The boy rolls his eyes and sighs walking down the steps and meets you face to face.

Kaori walks past the boy and sticks her tongue out behind his back, only for you to see.

You bring a hand up to cover your laugh, but it doesn’t go unnoticed. “What are you laughing at, wife?”

You grimace, “I’m not your wife, and I remembered something a friend of mine told me about clan meetings.” You can feel your phone buzzing in your pocket but you choose to ignore it.

“Oh and what was that?”

“To always skip them.”

Masamune scoffs, “Must be some fourth grade if she skips meetings.”

You hold back another laugh, “I wouldn't consider him a fourth grade sorcerer.”

“Him!?” He raises an eyebrow at you. “No, you’re not allowed to have any male friends if we’re going to be married.”

“Then it’s a good thing we’re not getting married.” You state simply, trying not to let your phone ringing for the umpteenth time annoy you.

Before Masamune can reply a loud ringtone plays out from your pocket, willing itself to be heard.

“I’m sorry I have to take this.” You give him a fake smile and look down at your phone to see Nanami’s phone number lighting up the front. You flip it open, turning away from Masamune.

“This better be good.” You mutter into the phone.

“You’re in Sendai right?!” You overhear a loud crash over the speaker and someone yelling to Nanami.

“Yeah, why?”

You can barely hear Haibara ask, “Did she answer?” 

“We’re fighting a special grade curse- need your help. Gojo is on his way but you’ll get to us faster.”

“I- I can’t I. . . “ You look over at Masamune who’s giving you a frustrated look.

“Never mind, I can. Send me a pic of your location and I’ll be there soon.” You hear a loud crashing sound a few blocks away from you.

“Wait, are you nearing a forest?”

“Yes!”

Oh God. Instinct kicks in as you shut your phone closed.

“Hello?” Masamune calls out and you give him a look. 

“Can’t explain, special grade curse-” You turn and run out the gate running towards the street.

You’re standing in the middle of the road, eyes searching for the curse’s presence. At first, you're unable to feel anything but you suddenly hear a loud roar coming from a block away.

You look up to see a curse as big as a whale barreling down the street, jaws wide open to eat you. You can see Nanami and Haibara trailing not far behind it, calling out for you to move.

Your head tilts down slightly as you allow yourself to pool your cursed energy into your hands. You bring your hands in front of you. You can feel the pulse of the curse and something inside it.

“Cursed blood technique: convergence!” You yell out as purple liquid trails out of the curse and in front of you. Its blood wraps around your hands as you clasp them together, letting the blood form a laser focus. The curse splits in two right as it reaches you, its body falling to either side of you.

Once it’s completely down, you stumble forward, dropping your focus. 

“What the hell?!” You glance over at Masamune who is hiding behind the gate.

“Guys?” You yell out to Nanami and Haibara who are still running at you at full speed.

“It’s not-!” Nanami starts but it’s already too late. The curse is somehow reforming itself. . . you didn’t exorcize it yet.

“Shit.”

You run out of its way and it fully reforms itself, giving the three of you a murderous look.

“What kind of curse-?” You start.

“It’s like a hydra.” Haibara finishes. Nanami brings up his blade in front of you all.

“We need Satoru.”

“No shit,” Nanami mutters. The curse roars again and you all get ready for the fight.

“It’s a good thing I’m here then~”

Nanami looks behind him and gives Gojo an incredulous look. 

“Now’s not the time,” You tell Nanami. The curse throws its head back, a disgusting hacking sound coming out of its mouth, “All of you, I’m going to line up the shot; Nanami, you need to cut its head off;  Haibara, help me line it up, and Satoru?”

“Yeah Pretty?”

“Don’t destroy this street, my nephew lives down the road.” He gives you a smile before kissing you, “You got it, sweetheart.”

You hear Nanami gagging but there wasn’t any time to deal with the aftermath of your classmates learning that you and Gojo were officially dating. That can come once you all finish off the curse.

You and Haibara run in opposite directions, both trying to get the curse’s attention. Nanami and Gojo disappear from your vision but you soon hear a familiar whistle that you and Nanami came up with.

Once you’re far enough away from the curse, you turn to face it. Centering your focus on its body. You feel your cursed energy seeping out of you as you bring your hands in front of you once more, this time your right arm extending farther than your left. You focus on its heartbeat, the blood it has that keeps itself alive.

You’ve never controlled this level of curse before, but you had no time to worry if doing this would hurt you.

You tense your right hand and mutter, “Cursed blood manipulation: Marionette.”

The curse stills and its body contorts as you gain control of it. You only had a limited amount of time before you would lose consciousness. You turn your right hand slowly towards you and the curse turns on its left shoulder. You can feel it trying to fight against your technique but you hold out. Your right arm straightens out as your left hand goes in the opposite direction.

The curse’s head is a meter away from yours as its body lays flat against the street, your hands start wavering as it starts thrashing against your hold on it.

“Any day now!!” You yell out and suddenly Nanami slices through its neck, splitting it perfectly.

Before it has the chance to reattach its head, Gojo quickly walks through the path between the curse’s head and body, taking his hands across the wound, and cauterizing it with a very limited version of his technique reversal.

You drop down to your knees as you fight to stay awake.

“Hey hey, come on now sweetheart.” Satoru quickly appears at your side, bringing an arm around your torso, and helping you stand up. “We got an audience.”

You try to get your eyes to focus as you look up to see your sister looking at you with mild amusement, the clan head giving you an unamused look and Masamune’s mouth hanging agape.

Haibara runs over towards Nanami helping him up and they both walk over towards you and Gojo. 

“Thank you for the help,” Nanami says to you, “I don’t know why they sent us on this mission.”

You give Nanami a smile, glancing back at the curse’s body as it starts to disappear. “I think I know why it was a higher grade than you expected.” You nod in the direction of the object that it left behind. . . one of Sukana’s fingers.

Haibara quickly picks it up before anyone else can, “We better take this back to Jujutsu High.” 

Nanami takes out his phone to call one of the assistant supervisors, “We’ll be on our way, we’ll see you soon.” He says to you and you wave goodbye to him. You bring your attention back to Kaori who is starting to walk back home.

“We’re not joining their fucking clan.” She calls out.

“You were going to join their clan?” Satoru looks down at you and you avoid his gaze. “They had offered a lot of protection for my sister and her family.” 

“At what cost? If anything you should just marry me and bam you’re a Gojo and no one will fuck with either of us.” You push away from him, a blush creeping onto your face.

“Don’t say things like that if you don’t mean it, Satoru.”

“Wait! No, she's marrying me!” Masamune stomps over to you two. You give him a confused look, “I’m not even joining your clan asshole, fuck off.” You tell him, but he doesn’t falter. He keeps looking at Gojo waiting for an explanation.

“Are you jealous? She’s dating me, the Satoru Gojo, and not you, you pathetic piece of shit.” Gojo’s eyes flicker down at him, his face disgusted. “I should kill you right where you stand.” 

“Enough,” You try to sound serious but your smile is on Satoru's shoulder. Masamune looks like he’s about to shit himself and you can’t help but laugh at him. 

“Please forgive my son’s behavior Gojo,” The clan head’s voice rings out, “He doesn’t know his place.”

“Clearly.” Satoru snarks, “Let’s get you home sweetheart.” 

Within a blink, you’re suddenly in front of your house with Satoru, your hands on his chest. You look up at him and he gives you a soft smile.

“I meant what I said by the way. We should get married.”

You roll your eyes at him and lightly tap his chest, “Okay Toru, whatever you say.” You say sarcastically. He lets go of you reluctantly and you go to open the front door. 

Kaori arrives a few moments before Gojo leaves. She sees him kiss you for a few moments before disappearing in front of you. 

You and Kaori make eye contact as a blush reappears on your face, “We were just-!” 

“It’s okay, I think it’s sweet.” She tells you as she pats your shoulder. 

You were in for a lecture from Yaga once you returned to Jujutsu High since none of you put down a veil around the curse. It was worth it though since you got multiple recommendations for First Grade along with Nanami and Haibara after fighting that curse. Things are starting to look up for you guys.

[hyuny-bunny]

Hi Rose!

Can you do a fic where SKZ are in an interview and one of the questions for each of them is, "If you have a sister, whom would you want her to date?" And Minho vehemently objects to his metaphoric sister dating his friends, then notices Changbin looking all suspicious. Turns out Changbin has been chatting up Minho's cousin. Juicy, juicy.

Thank you! But please, please don't feel obligated if you're not comfy writing this, okay?

of course ! thank you so much for the request and i hope this does it justice :') i did tweak the details abit and kinda ran with it 😅. i hope not too much to disappoint. if you want something a little more spicy feel free to submit again and i can do a follow up pt 2☺️

i'll wait | C.B. ft minho

genre: fluff overload, friends to lovers, slow burn romance

content warning: cuteness overload, kissing, slightly upset minho, minho threatening to break changbin.

Minho had always been like an older brother to you. You weren't too far apart in age, you were glued to the hip at 3 and it's always been that way. Both sets of parents had to have a difficult talk with the two of you, explaining you weren't siblings. It didn't stop him referring to you as his sister and for you your brother.

Even during his time as a trainee, you were always there supporting. Whether it was dropping by the company building for a 15 minute break to have coffee and catch up, you'd always make time for him. When he was recruited by Chan to be a part of a group, you were ecstatic for him but your time together was cut down significantly when he went on to do the survival show.

After getting his big break to debut, he spent a lot of time out with his group doing street performances and advertising their group. You'd often join him with passing out flyers or just helping them record videos as they hadn't been supplied with staff just yet. You got more familiar with the rest of his group but you were always shy around them, not really knowing your place in how to interact with them.

Changbin and Jisung were the first ones you warmed up to. Han was always respectful but treated you like a friend, always making you feel comfortable around them. Changbin was much shyer with his approach. He found you pretty the moment Minho introduced you to all of them. He'd always crack jokes to you when you were around. Teasing your camera work when they were going back of their vlogs. It wasn't until one afternoon, you were supposed to be meeting Minho & Changbin for lunch, Minho had been running behind with his dance practice. This was the most nervous Changbin had felt in a long time, not even his performance review came close to he felt knowing he'd be alone with you until Minho would arrive.

All his worries washed away when he saw you sitting out on the terrace of that cafe. You were wearing a grey sweater with a black skirt. It was fall so the cold hadn't set it but he could see your legs shivering. Without thinking about it, he was already pulling his jacket off. He walked over to you seeing the way you beamed at him melted his heart.

"Here, for your legs." He extended the jacket out to you.

"Oh... it's fine, binnie," His heart skipped a beat at the nickname, "I'm not that cold! I don't want you getting cold either."

He cocked an eyebrow at you before laying the jacket over your lap himself, he didn't know where the confidence to do that came from. Your heart swooned at the gesture, your legs find a new found warmth from the heat that came from the worn jacket and the blood rushing in you. From that day on you had kept a close friendship to him, one Minho himself would've seen.

Much later down the line your friendship grew closer but never anything more. It wasn't until a few months before their new comeback, Changbin was stressing beyond belief. The pressure to have a big impact on the music charts this time around was getting to his head. He was practically calling you every night to talk. One night he couldn't take it anymore, he needed to see you. It was 2 in the morning, he was letting his legs were move and think for him.

He's standing at your door debating on whether or not to ring your bell, not a second is able to pass before you're already there opening the door. The next moment we're all a blur because once he's stepped into your apartment, his shoes kicked off, his lips are on yours. After a moment or so he stops, apologizing for not having asked for your permission but you're already pulling him back down to kiss him some more. After the night he swears off kissing, he wants to be able to date you properly. The other obstacle you face is your beloved cousin. You know the one who brought you two together, the one who doesn't know the details of your relationship with his group member.

From then, you both find time to sneak off for dates. Your dates mainly consist of eating dinner at his studio, or he's bringing you food to your place for a movie night. You're trying you best to make things work, away from prying eyes, deranged fans, and most importantly, from Minho.

The truth about the two of you comes spilling out suddenly and unexpectedly when SKZ is on a variety show. Their staff at this point had a vague idea of you relationship status to Binnie but it was unbeknownst to them that Minho did not know. Minho had invited you to come watch the variety show so you could all grab dinner afterwards. Things took a turn when the host was going around asking about the members siblings.

Lee Know candidly spoke about a cousin that was practically his sister, you could see Binnie glancing your way past the camera.

"Would any of you let your sisters date another member of the group?" The host asked.

Seung is the first to adamantly say 'no'. He's waving and shaking his head no in disgust, they're all laughing at his reaction but Minho soon joins in on him.

"Nope, never. Not happening, maybe when I'm dead." Minho deadpans looking across his members but his eyes land on Changbin who is dead staring at you.

He clocks it then. Minhos eyes are darting back and forth between you two. It takes Chan kicking the back of Changbins chair for him to snap out of his daze letting out a loud 'huh'. Minho's eyes are narrowed on him.

He knows something but he doesn't know for fact.

"Would you let your sister date any of the members?... Or better yet would you date any of the members sisters?" The host is laughing while repeating the question. Minho isn't laughing though.

Changbin flusters out a 'no' but his cheeks are a tint of pink now that he was caught staring you down. The filming wraps up and staff are asking the production to send them over the final product before they release it, just as an extra precaution. Minho says nothing when he brushes past you. He's pissed.

Shit maybe he does know.

You're standing out by your car waiting for Minho. It was supposed to be 4 of you. Jisung, Minho, Changbin, and you. You wave your goodbyes to rest of the members, finally seeing the three of them walking out together. You can tell Jisung is yapping about something based off the way he's moving his hands while talking. Changbin walks beside him head low and Minho walks on the opposite side of Han. He's staring you down all the way till he gets to you.

You're all standing outside the car but no one is moving.

"Do you have something to tell me?" Minho's never had such a cold tone with you, it makes you straighten up.

"I uh... We wanted to... I just..." You can't find the words but Changbin steps up.

"Take it out on me," He's stepped in between you two now. "We didn't know how to tell you, I asked to keep it quiet until the time came."

"And when was that time? Because I just had to find out in front an entire production crew and our staff. Was that your ideal time?" He's pissed but he's also hurt. Hurt that you would hide this from him.

"I'm sorry, Min. I am really. I was just scared that you wouldn't..."

"That I wouldn't what?" He snaps at you.

"You wouldn't approve of it."

beat

His eyes soften looking at you. He looks to Changbin.

"Do you love her?"

"I love her"

It was the first time you heard him say he loved you. It wasn't the way he imagined it going. Minho sighs looking at you again, he can tell it was your first time hearing this too.

"Okay.... If you so much as lay a hand on her or do anything to break her heart, i will break your fingers off one by one, and you'll never lift a weight again, got it?" Minho has a hand on his shoulder and a finger pointing in his face like a parent scolding a child.

Jisung has been stuck in same pose for the last 20 minutes with his jaw slack to the floor while clutching his hand over his heart. You're right there with him ever since you heard Changbin say 'I love her'.

Minho moves to open the car to put his bag in the back, unfortunately you're still frozen in place and haven't unlocked.

"You know the least you could do is feed me now?" He looks at you gesturing the car keys in hand. He grabs the keys from you to unlock the car now. He hugs you for a moment before patting changbin on the shoulder.

You look at Changbin who is matching the flush on your face. He kisses your forehead trying to bring you out of your state of shock.

" You know 'I love you, too' would've been nice to hear ," He laughs taking the keys and walking to the passenger side to usher you in "But I'll wait."

[haddonfieldwhore]

torn - vince dunn

vince dunn x fem!reader (x platonic! matthew tkachuk)

summary: with seattle on an 8 game losing streak, it’s even more difficult to choose who to cheer for; your boyfriend or your best friend

word count: 4k

warnings: language, a sprinkle of angst, drinking, nsfw themes implied but nothing explicit, mention of cheating

you fiddled absentmindedly with your fingers in your lap as you sat in the audience, paying little attention to the practice skate happening in the rink. your mind was elsewhere, unable to focus on your boyfriend vince dunn and his team as you thought about his instead. matthew tkachuk had been your best friend for as long as you could remember, and while you should have been overjoyed at the fact that you got to see him tonight, the fact that he was on the opposing team did slightly complicate things.

while it was just a game at the end of the day, it wasn’t at the same time. it felt like a double edged sword; while you knew you would be happy with whoever won, that also meant that one of your two favourite people had to lose, and you didn’t want that.

you breathed a sigh of relief that this was their last regular season game against eachother, the panthers and the kraken not meeting up too often. you felt you phone buzz in your pocket and checked it to see a text from matthew.

you looked up at the clock on the wall, which read 10:49am, meaning the kraken were almost done and you wouldn’t miss too much if you snuck out now.

you gathered your stuff, sneaking out without drawing attention to yourself, and not noticing the green eyes of your boyfriend flickering up to notice your empty seat. it was only about 15 minutes before matthew arrived, meeting you outside the cafe by sneaking up behind you and wrapping his arms around you. you let out a shriek, earning a few weird looks from people around the room as you turned around.

“you scared me!” you punched matthews chest lightly, before throwing your arms around his neck in a bone crushing hug.

“that was kind of the idea,” he laughed, holding you tight as he laughed. it had been months since you had seen him, and you always missed him like crazy when you were apart.

“you cut your hair!” you commented on his appearance as you finally looked at his face. you had obviously seen him on tv and in pictures since you last saw him in person, but it wasn’t the same as being fave to face. “last time i saw you your curls were crazy,” you smiled, remembering how long his hair had grown out.

“yeah, it’s a lot to fit under the helmet,” he smiled, and finally let go of you.

“also,” you began. “happy belated birthday! i can’t believe we were one day off from getting to spend it together,” you pouted, thinking of his birthday that had been just yesterday.

“thank you. we can celebrate tonight- after the game. i think we’re sticking around in seattle until at least tomorrow morning so we have all night.”

“deal,” you smiled, shaking his hand.

•

after a quick shower, vince towel dried his curly hair and threw on a kraken hoodie and some shorts, taking advantage of the warmer than usual weather despite it being mid december. usually after practice you were waiting for him outside the locker room, but he had a pretty good feeling that you wouldn’t be there to greet him today; the empty hallway confirming his suspicions as he sighed.

“everything okay? she’s never not here.”

vince looked up to nod his head softly at tye kartye, one of his teammates and one of your close friends. “where is she?”

“with tkachuk,” dunn replied, not meaning to sound so bitter. “he’s her best friend; they never get to see eachother,” he recovered, not wanting to give the impression that he was upset about it. he had no issue with you having friends that were on other teams, especially since you had been friends with matthew far longer than you had been dating him.

“sharing trade secrets about our practice?” tye joked innocently, and vince punched his arm.

“you know she wouldn’t. and besides, i don’t think she was really paying attention anyway,” he laughed. he pulled his phone out of his bag, checking to see if you had messaged him, trying not to be too disappointed when he saw no notifications on the screen.

•

you and matthew were walking around seattle, not straying too far from the arena, when your phone went off.

you smiled at the message, and didn’t notice matthew had stopped in front of you until you ran straight into his chest.

“loverboy wondering where you are?” he teased innocently.

“he’s just checking in. their practice just ended.”

“any-“

“don’t even ask. i am sworn to secrecy,” you scolded, with a finger pressed to his lips to quiet him. he smirked, raising his hands in surrender.

“i see how it is. does that mean you’re cheering for him tonight over me?” he asked playfully.

“i’m cheering for both of you. i don’t want either of you lose,” you admitted, and matthew threw an arm around your shoulder.

“i know. and i’m sorry they have to lose but-“

“hey!” you laughed. “don’t be an ass.”

“sorry,” he smiled. “and i promise to try not to hit him too hard in to the boards-“

“hey!” you repeated, but you knew that he was only messing with you.

“okay okay i’m done.”

•

you had gone home to vince’s apartment once matthew had to go to the panthers practice, giving you some time to get ready before the game. you and the birthday-boy would be going out straight after the game, so you had to get a little fancier than you usually did for a game, knowing you wouldn’t have time to do your makeup or anything.

putting on an outfit appropriate for clubbing and doing your hair and makeup took a little longer than usual, and soon it was time to head down to the arena with vince. he walked out of your shared bedroom dressed in his suit for the evening, a dark purple colour with a subtle blue plaid pattern. no matter how many times you saw him get dressed up, it still made butterflies erupt in your stomach.

“you really do look great in a suit,” you smiled, smoothing out his blue tie and brushing that one curl that never seemed to stay put off his forehead. he leaned down to kiss your lips softly.

“you look amazing. although i have a weird feeling this isn’t all for me..” he said hesitantly, his hands landing softly on your waist.

“i mean of course it’s for you,” you paused, kissing the side of his neck softly. “but i do have plans after the game with matthew,” you admitted, feeling guilty even though you knew he wouldn’t mind.

“i had a feeling,” vince laughed, but kissed your forehead. “you are still cheering for us during the game though, right?” he smiled.

“yes, but he’s gonna be a bummer to hang out with if they lose, so think of me if that happens,” you laughed as he kissed you again, before grabbing your bag for you and getting the door. you weren’t sure how it was time to go already, but you were only getting more nervous standing around waiting, so you were happy to get going, following close behind vince as he left the apartment.

•

you and vince arrived at the arena, but split off since he had a few things to do before the game; usual player stuff. you were in the back when the panthers arrived, and while most of them didn’t pay you any mind, a certain player with golden curls sent you a wink as he walked by and into the visitors locker room. you decided that while yes, you were hoping that seattle won the game (florida could afford the loss more than the kraken could right now), you would still be an encouraging friend, texting matthew a quick ‘good luck 🥰’.

you put your phone away, and took a deep breath, trying to ease your nerves. you and a few of the other players girlfriends went to your seats, and you tapped your fingers on your knee, drowning out the conversation going on around you. a hand in your shoulder snapped you out of your trance, and you turned to look at valerie, who was engaged to jared, one of the forwards for seattle.

“you okay?” she asked, and you smiled.

“yeah - just a little nervous if i’m being honest.”

“what’s going on?”

“my best friend plays for florida, so i’m just a little upset that one of the teams had to lose,” you laughed, and val giggled.

“aww. it’s okay honey. that’s the game; someone wins and someone loses - and i’m sure both vince and your friend know that.”

“you’re right,” you sighed, her words making you feel better. “thanks val.”

“no problem. are you and vince going out after the game? you’re all fancy today.”

“no, actually i have plans with matthew - my friend.”

“tkachuk?”

“yeah.”

“so you have a bit of a type, huh? tall, curly hair, a little dangerous…” she teased.

“shush.”

“i’m kidding, i’m kidding,” she bumped her shoulder against yours softly. “i won’t tell anyone if you secretly cheer for florida,” she whispered in your ear.

“i still want us to win,” you took a sip from your drink. “i just don’t want the other team to lose.” you both laughed at the redundant statement, and the players came out into the ice to skate around before the game began.

“what’s tkachuk’s number again? i want to keep an eye on him for you,” val asked.

“19,” you smiled. “i’m sure he’ll make his presence known.” as if on queue, you saw matt in the starting lineup out on the ice, and he nodded his head towards you, and you smiled.

“yeah, you definitely have a type.”

•

the first period went by without too much excitement, besides vince getting a penalty for a high stick. while you would never admit it to him, you always thought he looked hot sitting in the penalty box. florida got a few more power plays in the second period, but yamamoto was still able to score the only goal so far, giving seattle a 1-0 lead. you noticed vince and matt give eachother a couple shoves as play was whistles down for a save from seattles goalie, daccord.

bellemare scored the second goal for seattle, giving us an even bigger lead, and while i was happy for the kraken, my mood fell as my eyes landed on matty. he was sitting on the panthers bench, chewing on his mouthguard instead of wearing it properly, as always. on his next shift he got a good shot, but it was deflected, and the start of a fight broke out between vince and one of the other panthers, but it was quickly broken up.

wennberg intercepted a pass and got a breakaway to score seattles third goal, and your gaze went to the florida bench again. as your eyes found matthew, you realized he was already looking at you. you mouthed a sincere “i’m sorry” at your best friend, and you knew he understood it when he tilted his head sideways with a shrug; but you could tell he was frustrated.

florida pulled their goalie with five minutes left in the game, and tolvanen scored an empty netter to secure the victory early. the girls were cheering next to you and you smiled as they announced that vince got an assist on the goal, adding to his already impressive tally of points on the season so far. the time dwindled down to nothing, confirming the win for seattle and in turn earning daccord his first nhl shutout.

the fans cheered as the kraken skated around celebrating, and the panthers headed back to the locker room.

•

you were leaning up against the wall talking with some of the teams girlfriends when you felt arms wrap around your midsection from behind, and a soft kiss being placed on the junction between your shoulder and your neck. you giggled as vince’s stubble tickled your skin, and you turned around and kissed him on the lips.

“hey,” you smiled, admiring the sparkle that always appeared in his eyes when the kraken won.

“hey yourself,” he smiled, kissing you again, before his eyes traveled up and down your body, taking in every inch of your outfit. “you’re sure you’re not gonna hang with us? we’re going to kartye’s place, it’s gonna be a good time….” he trailed off, his fingers drumming softly against your hips.

“i’m sad i’m missing it, but i promised matthew; it was his birthday yesterday and i haven’t seen him in forever,” you pouted, and vince nodded.

“i get it, don’t worry. i just thought i’d ask.”

“you could come with us?” you offered, and he smiled, but shook his head.

“i don’t wanna third wheel,” he teased. “go have fun. i get you all the time, he can have you for one night.”

i raised an eyebrow, and vince seemed to realize the error in his wording.

“not like that,” he scolded, a light blush on his face, and you laughed.

“i’m kidding. you’re the only one who gets me in that way.”

“good,” vince said, his confidence returning as he kissed you deeply, before the rest of the team started exiting the locker room.

“hey, you coming out with us?” yamamoto asked, and you shook your head, but vince answered for you.

“she’s got a date with the enemy,” he replied, and you shot him a glare for throwing you under the bus, but knew the team wouldn’t care. they hazed you for a minute, but you laughed it off before they stole vince from you, him calling out for you to text him if anything happened. you waved to the guys and said goodnight to the girls before heading towards the visitors locker room to find matthew.

the panthers were still inside when you got there, so you sat on a bench in the hallway while you waited. about 10 minutes went by before anyone exited the room, and finally a defeated looking tkachuk walked out of the door. he perked up slightly when he saw you, and you stood up, gasping slightly as he lifted you up in the air. to not fall, you wrapped you arms and legs around him like a koala bear, laughing as he spun around.

“stop you’re gonna drop me!”

“i would never,” he replied, but set you down on your feet anyway. “you ready to go?” he asked, and you looked at the white button up shirt he had on with some dark jeans. his hair was still slightly damp from his post-game shower, and he smelled like his usual cologne.

“yeah, what the plan?”

“there’s gotta be a club around here somewhere right?” he asked, and you nodded, remembering the handful of times you had gone out with the team to celebrate after a game.

“yeah, i know a place.”

“well what are we waiting for?” he smiled.

•

a few hours and many drinks later, you found yourself being pulled onto the dance floor by matthew, some throwback hip hop song blaring through the speakers of the club. his hands were on your hips as you danced to the music, your back to his chest as your bodies got closer together. the club lighting was low except for the flashing stove lights, casting different colours across the people in the room.

“what are you thinking about?” matthew asked, his breath fanning across your ear as he leaned closer so you could hear him over the music, and you realized you must have zoned out.

“i’m sorry you guys lost the game.”

he laughed, using his grip on your waist to turn you to face him, his hands never leaving your body.

“it’s fine,” he shook his head, but his eyes didn’t meet yours, so you could tell he wasn’t too happy about it.

“sorry, i shouldn’t have brought it up. kinda ruined the mood.” his gaze found yours now, the bright blue of his eyes slightly hazy from the alcohol.

“and what mood was that?” he smirked.

“we’re celebrating your birthday, matty,” you smiled, throwing your arms around his neck and burying your face against his collarbone. you felt another laugh rumble in his chest, as his arms encircled you, and you breathed in the way he smelled; expensive. you looked up at him, and found him already looking at you, his eyes half closed, either from intoxication or tiredness. without thinking, you placed a soft peck on his lips, and then both of your froze. his eyes were wide now, and you stuttered incoherently.

“i didn’t mean to do that,” you finally said.

“you didn’t?”

“no,” you confirmed.

“okay,” he laughed, and you hit his bicep softly.

“it’s not funny matty, i fucked up,” you said seriously, and he cleared his throat.

“okay, just breathe,” he said as you began to panic. “let’s get some fresh air okay?” he led you outside, the cool december air helping to sober you up quickly. there was no one stood outside the club except a couple people smoking a little ways down the sidewalk. you leaned against the side of the building as you continued to freak out. you had to tell vince- and now, before some paparazzi posted a photo of it and he found out some other way.

you pulled out your phone, and matthews eyes widened again as his hand gently wrapped around yours.

“what are you doing?”

“i have to tell him,” you mumbled.

“tell who what-“

“tell my boyfriend that i just cheated on him, matthew. oh god-“ you cried, tears welling in your eyes.

“are you sure you should call him right now? you’re hyperventilating.”

“he needs to know. and he needs to hear from me first before he finds out from someone else,” you insisted, somehow managing to calm for breathing down, though your heart remained pounding against your ribcage.

“okay. you’re right,” he sighed, running a hand through his hair. “it’s not like it meant anything, right? it was a stupid drunken kiss.”

“yes. i love you, but not like that, dude.” you both laughed, and you were glad to be on the same page about it. matty would always be your best friend, and there had never been anything romantic between the two of you.

“agreed,” he smiled. “i’ll give you some privacy, but i’m not leaving you out here alone. i’ll be over there if you need me,” he said, and walked down the side of the building, keeping you in his line of sight under safe watch. you took a shaky breath, and scrolled through your phone to vince’s contact, and pressed the call button.

“hello?” he answered, and you could hear loud music in the background.

“vince - it’s me. can you hear me?” you replied, and you heard the sound of a door and the music getting quieter, like he had gone into another room.

“hey, babe. yeah i can hear you now. is everything okay?” he asked, a concerned tone in his voice.

“yes - well no- but yes, i’m fine. i need to tell you something.”

“what is it?” he asked.

“i accidentally kissed matthew,” you admitted, closing your eyes like it would stop you from hearing his reaction. “we got really drunk and it just happened and it was one tiny little kiss and i’m so sorry,” you blabbered, before listening to a long painful silence on the other side of the phone.

“it didn’t mean anything? it was just a mistake?” he asked calmly, and you were a little shocked. you hadn’t exactly expected him to yell at you, but you thought he would at least sound… angrier.

“god no - of course it didn’t. i love you so much and i’m so sorry.”

“does he know it didn’t mean anything?” he asked, the expected anger a little more present in his voice this time.

“yes, vince. we’re just friends; i promise,” you insisted, and you heard him sigh on the other end.

“okay. i mean i’m not happy about it but if it didn’t mean anything i i’ll get over it. i’ll kiss one of the guys and we’ll call it even, okay?” he teased, and you laughed, slightly in relief but also in disbelief.

“have you been drinking?” you teased, and he gave a genuine laugh.

“maybe a little. but seriously - if it was just an accident i forgive you. are you guys staying out for a bit? do you need me to call you a cab or anything?” he asked, and you smiled at how much of a sweetheart he was.

“i think we’ve both had enough partying for one night. i’ll get a cab home, okay? are you and guys staying out much longer?” you replied.

“okay, text me when you’ve made it home. i think we’re almost calling it a night, so i’ll be there soon.”

“okay. i love you.”

“i love you too.” he said, and the call ended. matthew saw you put your phone away, and walked back over to you.

“is he coming here to kill me?” he asked, and you rolled your eyes, wondering how he could joke at a time like this.

“no - i have the best boyfriend in the world and he said everything is fine since it was just a drunken mistake.” speaking of vince your phone went off in your hand and you looked at the screen to see a text with a picture of larsson and yamamoto kissing him on either cheek, a big goofy smile on his face. below it was a text that just said “now we’re even 🩵” and you shook your head, smiling as you showed matt.

“i don’t know him too well but he seems like a good guy.”

“he is,” you smiled. “i’m gonna call it a night, and you probably should to, considering i’m sure you guys have to be in the road pretty early tomorrow.”

“yeah you’re right,” he said, scratching the back of his head. “i’ll see you during the holiday break, right?” he asked. the teams always got a few days off at christmas and you usually spent at least one of them together. that meant it would o it be a few weeks before you got to see each other again.

“of course,” you said, wrapping your arms around him in a hug, suddenly sad to be saying goodbye so soon.

“okay,” he smiled, returning the hug as your cab pulled up. “tell dunn i’m sorry. and congrats on the win.”

“i will. text me in the morning?” he nodded in response, and pulled out his phone to call a cab of his own. you sighed as the car pulled away, and you shut your eyes, suddenly feeling exhausted.

•

you were home long enough to shower and get into your pyjamas, which was just one of vince’s t-shirts and some shorts, before you heard his keys in the door. you ran over to him and he wrapped you in his arms immediately, his familiar scent filling your nose as you buried your face in his chest.

“i’m sorry,” you mumbled.

“i know. i forgive you,” he laughed softly. “i am a little sad i don’t get to take that outfit off you, but i might like this one even more.”

you smiled, placing soft kisses up his neck until your lips connected. he walked you backwards to the bedroom and let your fingers undo the buttons of his shirt. once he was down to his boxers, you both crawled into bed, your head on his chest as his fingers traced little patterns on your thigh.

“i love you,” you mumbled, very sleepy after a long day.

“i love you too.”

“i love you more than anyone else on earth,” you clarified, and it was the truth. vince smiled, though you couldn’t see it, and kissed the top of your head.

“i know. goodnight baby,” he said softly, and you were out before you could say anything back. while he wasn’t exactly happy about what had happened, he felt better knowing that at the end of the day, it was his arms that you were falling asleep in.

disclaimer: all screenshots, events, and/or interactions depicted in this are a work of fiction. i have no association with any parties mentioned

[yaut-jaknowit]

In Front of the Clan

Pairing: We'ar-ow (Female Yautja) x GN!Reader

Word Count: 4237

Summary: We'ar-ow decides to speak to her clan about the situation and brings you along. As We'ar-ow speaks, people interrupt and speak falsehoods about the situation. Rumors within the clan always spread around. When the meeting gets a little out of hand, you stand forward.

Author Note: There's only four planned chapters left guys! We're getting closer to the end of this duo.

Masterlist

Ao3

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18

A plate of alien food was set before you. The corners of your mouth quirked up in an appreciative smile towards the large pink Yautja. She grunted before sitting down next to you and leaning into your side. Her warm scales pressing into you while We’ar-ow peers over your shoulder to look at the tablet laid open on the counter.

After learning that she has known about your plan for escape, you only use the tablet to play games now. There was no other use for it. We’ar-ow hasn’t even restricted the access to internet or deleted any of the information you’ve saved. Either she trusts you or she knows you can’t escape even if you tried without her knowing.

Before learning We’ar-ow knew, there was a possibility of actually making it off the mothership and homebound. Yet, she has her claws sunk into your skin. You were never going to escape now… nor did you? Did you want to leave?

That got you thinking. If you had the chance to leave, like an open door back home, would you take it? Leave all this behind. The troubles of not getting hunted down by your ex-mate, or the mess of confusing feelings about the massive alien leaned against your side. The fact the only two people you could safely converse with are her and Xilomere. That was a sad thing to think about. Such a lonely life.

Then, there was We’ar-ow. A creature that always demands, always commanding. She takes no shit from anyone. If she wants something done, she’ll do it herself. She’s protected you from the harms Dwainet attempted to bring down on you. The fact he wants you dead. We’ar-ow won’t throw you to him to get rid of her troubles. No, she’s fighting for you.

You glanced over your shoulder to find her orange eyes on you. “What?” you questioned, concerned there was something wrong. The alien chuffed and reached out with her hand towards your face.

Instantly, your first reaction was to jerk away. Instead, you held your ground. Her thumb swiped at the corner of your mouth then wiped whatever was there off on a napkin. You cursed inside of your brain the way that made your body flush. You bowed your head to look back down at the tablet.

A game was pulled up, the dog hunting one. Where you level up your hunting dogs and breed the best ones. So far, after little less than two months have gotten you far in the game. With nothing else but to pass time now, you are stuck it. There are other games you have downloaded but this one is your favorite.

Plus, with the fact you don’t… need to plan an escape anymore, it’s all you can do to pass the time. With We’ar-ow gone during most of the day – despite her attempts to coax you along with her, you have to do something not to go insane now.

We’ar-ow reached out once more and slid the tablet closer to her. You grumbled a noise of disagreement but continued to munch on the food she cooked for you. She did give it to you, nor could you stop her if you tried. From your hunched over spot, you watched as the Yautja tapped away on the device until getting to a page. She turned towards you.

From English to Yautja, the words on the page were returned to their native language. “Hey! What did you do? Now I can’t read it,” you complained and gave her a deadpanned look.

In all of your time around these creatures, you’ve not once learned about their language. The way they spoke it made it seem impossible for you to replicate. You don’t have the proper vocal cords to make such sounds. Seeming some of the words gave you head. Like, how does thirteen words equal a simple ‘how’ or something. Of course, it wasn’t perfectly translated over so it could mean a little different. Yet, still.

“It is time you learned. You are on my ship. I will teach you if you like it or not. At times, I will turn off your translator and test you. Understood?” she explained then tapped the screen. “Find where you can turn it back to English.” Your lips parted at her words.

“But-but I don’t know how to read your language!” you bickered and glared at her. The Yautja’s expression didn’t change. “How do you expect me to navigate through it to get back to English.”

To probably frustrate you more, she patted your cheek with her rough palms. “Sink or swim. This is where you show me what you got. Then, I shall go from there.” You couldn’t believe this! She just changed her soft personality like one-eighty on you. How can you even get to the settings to change it back to normal?! The translator behind your ear only did verbal words than also words on a paper or screen.

“Come on, don’t do this! My puppers need me,” you begged her, not expecting her to let you sink like this. There was no chance you were able to get to the settings and return it to English.

“I have faith in you, little ooman.” We’ar-ow left your side, stealing away the comfort her presence brought you, and stood up from the stool. “I’m going to finish preparing myself for the day. Once, I’m done, I have a meeting with the clan I must attend.”

That caught your attention. You dropped the spork you were using and spun around. This was serious. This must mean she was going to face off with Dwainet.

And instead of hiding here, you needed to be there.

“Can I come with?” you finally asked after three weeks of refusing to leave the safety of your space. Not when Dwainet or one of his goons can come up and snap your neck. The bruises lasted until last week.

We’ar-ow’s eyes lit up for a fraction of second before dipping her head. “Of course. I will warn you. Every eye in this ship will be upon us. I must address the unrest building within the clan and kill it before it becomes a problem,” she warned and hooked her finger under my chin to ensure I keep my gaze on her. “You are free to stay but I promise to keep you protected and safe in and out of this room if you are to join me.”

Your heart began to thunder in your chest at her intimate touch. It was starting to get harder to deny the way your stomach fluttered at gestures like this. The lump in your throat was swallowed down. “This is about me. I’m the center problem. I… I can’t show how afraid I am, can I?” you retorted yet with a soft voice. There was no time to show your fear to the crowd despite how terrified you are in this situation.

One of her upper mandibles quirked up. “You are learning, little one,” she purred and dragged her thumb claw along your fragile lips. You shuttered yet continued to keep eye contact with the large beast before you. “Yes. Now change into something more presenting for a meeting with the clan.”

A deep breath filled your lungs before you slipped off the stool, leaving behind the tablet for a later time. You grabbed your plate and put into the sink then headed into the shared bedroom. We’ar-ow shadowed behind you.

All of the clothes Ruach made for you were hung in the expansive closet before you. Your eyes raked over each strip of clothing, brain mauling over which would be the best for this time. Something grand, something to show you have power despite being a pet in everyone eyes.

Blues, purples, whites, and golds. An array of colors decorated the pieces you chose. Light in fabric, the top of see-through. You didn’t let that bother you as We’ar-ow helped looped strands of golden metal around your neck. Other jewelry decorated your wrists and ankles alike.

Royalty. You looked like royalty.

The bulk of We’ar-ow towered from behind. Each of her hands engulfed your shoulders before one slipped off to wrap securely around your throat. Despite knowing you should be trembling at her hand placement, all you felt was safe. You tilted your head back to find her eyes on you. Her grasp tightened for a fraction of her strength, still not worrying you a bit.

There was a slight pressure pressed onto the spot behind your ear for a moment. The translator. Words of her native language fell from her fangs like water over jagged rocks. Your brows creased, confused on what was spoken to you. The language is completely unfamiliar to you. Since day one, you’ve relied on it to get through everyday life within the Yautjas.

Another small graze over your skin. The translator was back to life. “Hey, what was that for?” you whined with a small pout. Why did she have to force you to do this? That’s what the translator’s for. There was no need to learn Yautja. Maybe the reading part but the speaking, not so much.

The hand shifted so her thumb ran over the scar that marred your skin on the back of your neck. You shuttered at the feeling, head still stretched back. “What did you say?”

A playful glint entered her eyes. “You’ll know once you’re ready,” she spoke ominously. You groaned and leaned against her with the pout still etched into your face.

“You’re not fair. How am I supposed to learn if you won’t teach me what you had just said?” We’ar-ow stepped back to create space for a moment and used her hand on your shoulder to keep you steady. At first, you felt a bit heartbroken she had moved away. Only to slightly tense up when her fangs touched the crook of your exposed shoulder and neck.

Your throat bobbed but you made no move to stop nor to encourage her. A part of you, deep down, wanted for her to take the bite, to latch her teeth onto your fragile skin. You felt them add just the tiniest of pressure to create divots in your skin. Your breath was caught in your throat, unable to move, frozen and at her mercy.

We’ar-ow retracted her head then patted your shoulder. “We must go or else we risk being late. That would not look good on us.” You pulled fresh air back into your weak lungs and dazedly nodded your head.

What was wrong with you?!

Everyone’s eyes were on your forms. The sea of people parted. We’ar-ow stepped forward. No one dared to step in her way, let alone look at their Monarch in the eye. They bowed their heads with respect her. You shadowed at her side, head level and refusing to look at anyone. A steeled expression etched into your face as you refused to shy away from the crowd.

Pet or not, you held a power within the clan. They couldn’t touch you without We’ar-ow baring down on them within the same instant. You gripped that power by the reins tightly as you strutted next to her.

The two of you ascended to her throne. You faltered for a moment, realizing you had to sit on the steps. Heat rushed to your cheeks instantly before you reeled in the embarrassment, ready to find a seat.

Suddenly, your feet left the ground. You squeaked minutely, on the verge of flailing in reaction. When your butt was placed on a warm thigh, you instantly paused your dramatic reaction. For a moment, you stared off blankly, regretting all of your decisions in the moment. Then, you relaxed against We’ar-ow looked down upon the sea of Yautjas crowded at the base of the steps.

The entire room was filled to the brim with the masses spilling out into the hallway. Though, it was heavily overcrowded with faces you couldn’t begin to recognize, you spotted a familiar figure moving through.

Xilomere. Others you learned that were part of the council climbed the steps as well. They stopped short of the last two steps to the throne and spread out. Xilomere and a female Yautja stood the closest, on either side. The alien mentioned by name gave a cheeky wink to you. Heat rushed to your cheeks, knowing the position in her lap wasn’t very professional.

Your hand snaked over to clutch We’ar-ow’s still holding your hips from when she grabbed you. Her other limb was resting on the armrest of her throne. You shifted around to find a comfortable spot to sit in. Which was your back to her chest, one of your legs crossed over the other, head held high. This wasn’t the time to show weakness in front of everyone.

Her fingers widened and allowed for yours to card through them. We’ar-ow trapped your digits between hers, refusing to let you go. This was an action you couldn’t tell was for your support or hers.

Behind you, We’ar-ow leaned in close to your ear. “No matter what happens, I will protect you, my little ooman,” she promised then returned to her original spot. She was attempting to calm your racing thoughts and thundering heart only for them to worsen. It made it seem like she was preparing for a revolution to break out.

We’ar-ow slammed her fist down with an ear shattering roar that echoed after the room fell silent. After a few long seconds to let this sink into everyone, We’ar-ow spoke in voice you’ve deemed to be her Monarch voice. Only used in the presence of her fellow clanmates.

“Many of you know what this about. Rumors spread. I am here to quell this outrage at the source.” Her voice carried out into the room. At first, you tensed your shoulders. Immediately thinking this quelling would include your death once and for all… but We’ar-ow wouldn’t do that. She wouldn’t take the easy way out.

“My pet is here to stay despite what that scum decides to try next.” You nearly curl up into her torso at her words, seeking protection. But Dwainet isn’t here to cause chaos. No, he’s locked up. “Number two, if you have an issue with my ruling, either bring it up to me or leave. I don’t need weak Yautjas part of my clan. Only the strongest, only the most skilled are sought after. You don’t have a place amongst the elite.”

“And three, if you don’t see me fit to rule, challenge me. There’s always been a clause to allow any of age to issue a challenge.” Her commanding voice sent chills down your spine. She squeezed your hand tightly. You returned the gesture the best you can.

“How can we trust that you’re strong when your pet is a feeble soft meat?” Someone from the crowd shouted. Others joined into the calls and spitting of harsh words.

“We were blinded by the last Monarch and her horrible rule.” Other agreed with whoever said that. You don’t know who or what happened during the last reign but We’ar-ow wasn’t anything like the sort. She’s a person who deserved to have this position.

Anger fell over your features. With a snarl, you ripped yourself from We’ar-ow hold and lap then stood before her, overlooking the room. Fire sparked to life in your eyes. “I know I haven't been here long, but I have seen the way she rules. A ruler that is strong enough to be gentle and knows when to use her strength,” your voice boomed loudly over the shouting match.

Everyone silenced themselves at first.

“Oh, look at that, the problem only causing more chaos in the mixture,” another voice drawled then scoffed. “I should gut you like the prey you are. Then, you’ll see how weak you truly are, soft meat.” You knew the use of ‘soft meat’ was a terrible insult to humans, but you simply brushed it off. It didn’t hurt to be said to you. Though soft, you could still cause damage.

Due to their words, you instantly knew We’ar-ow was going to step in. But, you had to act fast. “Maybe you’re right. I am weak. I am prey amongst hunters. Yet, here I still stand, with power you could dream of. I sit upon a throne while you grovel at our feet, paying your due respects to a Monarch whose blood, sweat, and tears have been put into this job.”

We’ar-ow stayed seated in her throne, yet eyes watched with rapture.

Then, your eyes drifted over into the direction of the other Yautja who before this one. “You’re right as well. I haven’t been here long. Long enough to know We’ar-ow could put you in your place. All of you in your place. Yet, here she is, choosing a path of peace rather than destruction.”

A new silence filled the tense air. Any eyes willing to meet yours, you glared at. You didn’t care that anyone in this room could kill you at the moment. Right now, this needed to end.

“Do you want discord? Or do you want peace?” you snapped and curled your hands into fists. None of your hits would do damage but it was the thought that counted if anyone dared to step up those steps. Plus, We’ar-ow promised you.

From behind you, We’ar-ow stood up placed her hands on your shoulders. Her thighs pressing into the middle of your back. Knowing that hunter stood at your back, you felt more power fill you instead of terror. She or anyone on this ship may be able to snap your neck, but We’ar-ow would never.

One person started it. They knelt down on one knee, hand splayed out to cover their face, head bowed. Once it began, others followed in their wake. Until all but eleven showed their respect to their Monarch.

Those who refused to bow glared daggers at the two of you. You snarled. Inside of your brain, you’re ready to throw down hands on any of them who didn’t respect the hardship We’ar-ow has endured. We’ar-ow tightened her grip on your shoulders and brought you from your boiling thoughts. You felt the way they twitch, nearly attempting to incircle your throat. Yet, they stayed glued to their spots.

“What paths shall you take? Leave or challenge. I will not tolerate any more disrespect from any of my clan members. I won this place, this title. I will continue to show why I deserve to be here,” she growled and tugged you tightly into her thighs. Her form continuously towering over you.

“We side with Dwainet. We see the flaws that will cause detrimental damage to our clan. You will be our downfall. We will not allow that to happen,” one snapped and stomped his foot down, arms splayed out at his sides in display.

A growled from the pits of hell tumbled from We’ar-ow’s throat. Yet, the Yautja didn’t move from her spot. “Dunkot, detain these foolish younglings,” she demanded a yellowed colored Yautja.

Without hesitation, he began his pathing down the stairs. A short growled fell from him. Others from the crowd moved towards their targets and did what their Monarch ordered them to do. They were escorted out and away. You breathed a sigh of relief and titled your head back to look up at her. Her fingers twitched and ghosted over the column of your throat before returning to their original position.

Her words made you realize. Only those under two hundred years were part of this revolution. Dwainet himself was barely even a hundred years old. They were only stupid young adults playing fire before they even knew it would burn them.

Once they had been hauled out, We’ar-ow gazed out into the crowd. “Does anyone else have something to say to either of us?” she demanded. Everyone stayed bowed but raised their heads to look upon their Monarch again. No one spoke up to voice their concerns again.

“Meeting adjourned.” With that, everyone took their, except Xilomere and the unnamed female Yautja. Though her color was different, her facial features were similar to We’ar-ow in a way that had you unsettled.

Said Yautja spun on her heel and moved along the steps to stand before you. Even at a couple steps down, she still had the same giant form as We’ar-ow. A playful smirk on her fangs. “Such a little thing to cause an uproar, sister. I love the fact you’ve kept them around,” she laughed.

Sister? This is the sister?! Jesus Christ. You don’t know why but you felt the need to impress her in any shape or form.

Xilomere joined the group as well and held out his own fist towards you in a very human fashion. You fulfilled the gesture. “Look at what you did. You’re just as good as We’ar-ow here.” His gaze flickered up to We’ar-ow. “You chose good.” You looked back up at her behind you.

“To be honest, if she wasn’t here, I’d be a shredded mess of meat and shattered bones on the ground right where I stand,” you nervously inputted and leaned more against We’ar-ow’s thighs. Her hands squeezed once more on your shoulders. It was the horrible truth.

He raised a brow and gave you an up and down look. “You are unarmed. Any honorbound Yautja wouldn’t attack you. Prey or not.”

Hidden on the side of your waist band was that knife thar random Yautja gave you a while ago. The fabric that flowed over your shoulders was enough to cover it apparently. “Well,” you drawled then unsheathed the blade carefully. “About that.”

The beautifully crafted blade was shown the group. We’ar-ow bristled behind you then snatched it out of your hand. “Where did you get this?!” she scolded and spun you around to face her. “This isn’t one of mine. Who gave this to you?” You nearly shied away from her due to instinct but held strong.

“A merchant named Wourk. He tried to trick me but I knew better. He gave it to me, free of charge. I needed something to protect myself. I have to show myself as capable without always being seen as this pathetic little creature,” you argued and tried to reach for it but she kept it out of reach. “This issue with Dwainet isn’t resolved. I could be killed by one of his goons.”

She growled and grabbed your throat, pulling you in close as she leaned down to your height. “No you won’t. I told you I would protect you as you are mine. Dwainet nor any of his followers shall lay a digit on you again. This blade will only put you at risk more. You will be seen as huntable prey with it,” she explained then plucked the sheath from your waist band with the hand around your neck.

You spun to look at Xilomere for help. “Help me. Don’t you agree me having a blade would be better than nothing?!” you rallied for him to side with you.

That look on his face told you otherwise. “I agree with her. If you hold a weapon, you are considered worth to be hunted. Without it, you are unhonorable to kill you. She’s just protecting you, ooman,” he resolved. You didn’t dare to turn to the unnamed sister, knowing she too would side with We’ar-ow.

“None of you realize how powerless I feel in this situation,” you growled, hands shaking then glared up at the pink Yautja. “Without you, I would be dead, ten times over. If it wasn’t for you presences alone, many would kill me. I just want to protect myself!”

Your voice carried out into the expansive room. Then, it turned to silence.

Both Xilomere and the sister bowed their heads to look somewhere else as you stared We’ar-ow in the eye.

“Well, I’ve got things to do. See you two later!” Xilomere announced his exit and was swiftly to fast walk down the stairs and out the room. We’ar-ow’s followed after him after giving a wave at the two of you.

Once the door was shut and offered privacy otherwise. Your neck was snatched in firm grasp that didn’t hurt.

“I do not know what it will take to get it through your thick skull. But I will protect you. You are mine to protect. My ooman!” Her fangs roughly clack together then spread wide. “Dwainet will pay for his crimes. He will die by my hand. He will suffer for the trouble of wasting two years of your life.” Her thumb rest upon your pulse point, feeling the way your heart raced.

The words in your throat died. Your chest heaved with each breath as the two of your stared into the other’s eyes. You licked at your lips. Her eyes darted down for a fraction of second during the motion. Long enough for you to notice.

This claim she continues to make felt different this time.

A deep huff dropped your shoulders. “Fine. But can I at least keep the blade? It’s pretty,” you asked, hoping she would let you. Despite the fact it could put you into danger for just having it, you liked it.

Her eyes glanced at it in her hand. “No.” Goddamn her.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18

[kamaela]

To Be Punished (M, 1k)

Fic by me

I wrote a fic for a discord challenge: Outsider POV. Read below or on AO3

Tags:

POV Outsider, Major Character Death, Draco Malfoy in Azkaban, Angst and Tragedy, Hallucinations, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Hurt/Comfort, Auror Harry Potter, Sad Ending

Summary:

An Azkaban guard bears witness to Draco and Harry and all that stands between them.

***

Inmate #227: D. Malfoy. High Risk. 24-hour guard. No visitors.

Don’t interact with the inmate. That was one of the first things she’d been told during training. She was to stand guard, silent and alert. She was not to engage.

—

“What the fuck did you do that for?” Harry Potter spat. He was angrier than she’d ever seen him in the papers.

He wasn’t a visitor. He was here on ‘official Auror business.’

Malfoy lay in his cot, staring at the ceiling. He’d been that way since he’d arrived, straight from his trial. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t play dumb. I was there!” The wards stretching between them shuddered.

“I’m not sure why you’re asking me about it, then.”

“I want to know why. We had a plan. You didn’t just stray from it, you blew it up. With wandless fucking magic!”

Malfoy sat up, turned. “They insulted her! You know how I—I couldn’t control it.”

“They’re gonna use this to jack up your sentence. All that work we did—”

—

Malfoy’s sentencing hearing lasted no more than 15 minutes. Two Aurors escorted him back to his cell. Harry Potter, pale and unsteady, wasn’t far behind.

“Draco, I—”

“Twenty years,” Malfoy said. His voice shook.

“It’s okay, I’m going to fix this. I’m gonna get Hermione and I—we’re gonna fix this.”

Malfoy laughed. “You’re an idiot, Potter.”

—

Harry Potter visited every few weeks. Today, he vibrated with fevered enthusiasm. She watched his steps as he paced in front of the cell.

“There’s heaps of evidence of corruption, not just in the Wizengamot. With the right angle, Hermione thinks we can build a really strong case. Maybe—Draco, are you listening to me?”

“No.”

—

“No luck?” Malfoy was leaning against the wall, picking his nails. He seemed unconcerned, but she knew better. He’d paced in his cell right up to the minute Harry had stepped through the door.

“I don't know why you're so smug about it.”

“Even the Boy Who Lived can't save the poor teenage Death Eater.”

Harry ran the toe of his boot along the stone floor.

“Twenty years Draco. I'm not sure I can—”

“I'm not asking you to.”

—

“I dreamt about that night on the rooftop, when we—”

“Oh.” A small private smile flickered across Harry’s face.

She started to wonder if it really was Auror business he was here for.

“I think you should stop coming by, Harry.”

—

It had been a few months, but Harry came back. It seemed he couldn’t keep away.

Draco’s voice was sharp. “What are you doing here, I told them I didn't want—”

“I paid off the guards.”

A scoff. “Of course.”

Harry stepped closer to the barrier. “You look—have you been sleeping?”

Draco laughed, shifting his gaze to her as if they shared an inside joke.

—

“They agreed to a hearing,” Harry exclaimed.

She hadn’t seen Draco get out of his cot for 72 hours. Today was no exception.

“Well, aren't you pleased?” Harry prompted.

“I have no feelings about it one way or another.”

—

“I saw Mother last night.” Draco’s eyes were puffy. Her colleague had said he’d been crying all night.

“Oh.”

“This place, Harry. I need to get out.”

Harry tugged his maroon robes.

“I'm so sorry. They upheld the decision.”

Draco put his head in his hands.

—

“I saw Mother again. He was there, too.”

“I'm sorry. Let's talk about something happy.”

“Happy?”

“Christmas. At The Manor? You remember, we tried to make gingerbread?”

A soft chuckle, “Oh yes, that was…”

—

“I can’t stop the dreams. I could never—the only time they stopped was when we—”

“I know,” Harry rested his forehead against the barrier. “Gods, I wish I could hold you.”

The dementors were gone, but the infection they’d left behind was vicious. She wondered if she should log an incident report. Nightmares were an early sign.

—

Draco had been pacing and muttering for hours before Harry arrived.

“Draco.”

“I’ve still got that twelve inch charms essay to finish.”

“Draco, it’s me. Harry.”

Draco kept pacing.

“Will you look at me?”

Draco did. “I miss you.”

—

“Mother visited last night,”

“Oh really?”

“She says hello.”

“Well, that’s nice of her.”

—

“Harry, I keep seeing him. I keep—I don’t want to go back there.”

“I know.”

“I’m scared.”

“I know. It’s okay. I’m gonna fix this.”

She felt it was rather unfair of Harry to give him false hope.

—

“We’re going to keep trying, I’m not giving up.”

“It’s okay, Harry.”

A strangled sound. “No. Don’t—”

“At least we got those months. That’s more than I ever…” Draco pressed a hand against the barrier, and the gesture seemed like a declaration.

“Don’t,” Harry whispered, a plea.

—

“I wish we’d had more time,” Harry said.

Draco laughed.

“Draco, what are you—”

“They took away my bedframe. I have no sheets.” He kept laughing.

—

Draco’s hair was matted. He’s been refusing to shower.

“Potter, what are you doing? You can't be here.”

“Draco—”

“He’ll be here any second. My Aunt, she called him—”

“We’re not at—”

“No! Harry, you have to get out. You have to win. Please. Go.”

“Okay, Draco. I’ll go.”

Harry hadn’t let her see him cry, until then.

—

“Harry.” Draco sat pressed right up against Harry, touching, if not for the magic weaved between them. “I’m not sure I can keep doing this.”

“I know.” Harry’s voice was small, kind. “I won’t ask you to.”

“In a different life, do you think—” Draco’s face crumpled. She had to look away.

Harry rubbed his eyes repeatedly. “Yes, love. In any life.”

—

He wasn’t a next-of-kin, nor a registered visitor, so he hadn't been notified.

He arrived as usual, glasses askew.

She hadn’t been trained for this.

“Mr. Potter.”

“Where is he? Have you moved him?”

She shook her head. “I’m sorry.”

His green eyes dulled as he collapsed onto the floor. She wondered then, as the hero’s sobs rent the air, who this place punished more.

[tatsumessy]

Hidden Feeling - {part 2}

“It’s the big day!” Your little sister says fixing your hair while smiling at you through the mirror. “I know…” the solem tone in your voice raised some red flags in your sisters head. “What’s wrong? It’s your big day!” She repeated and you just rolled your eyes not wanting to make eye contact with her. “It’s not just my big day, it’s mine and Sae’s. I know he was fine with paparazzi being here I just don’t know how I feel about it.” She sighed and turned you around in the chair to look at her.

“Just think of it as it just being you two.” She said rubbing your arms and smiling at you. “But what if she’s there? I don’t think I can do it…I’m too scared.” You said hugging your body then turning back around in the chair. “So you don’t want to marry me now?” Letting out an annoyed groan you didn’t want to turn around because you already knew he had this look of disappointment on his face.

“Give us a minute.” He said to your little sister, you could hear her heels clinking against the floor then exiting the room. “Y/n. Look at me. Baby look at me.” He said standing behind you with his hand on your head. “What’s wrong?” He leaned down and started kissing on your cheek, “I just don’t like the thought of everyone here…I wanted our wedding to be small and private…” “I know how to fix that.” He said standing up and walking towards the door.

“Put your dress on.” He exited the room and closed the door behind himself. After ten minutes he came back into the room with the marriage official, “Sae what is this?” You said standing up and holding onto the bottom of your dress, “we’re getting married right here right now just the way you want it.” There was a small blush on your cheeks as you walked closer to your soon to be husband and grabbed his face. You leaned in and placed a kiss on his lips. “Thank you.”

“Put it on, stop being so difficult.” You said fixing the buttons on your husbands shirt and glancing over his shoulder to make sure that your kids were behaving themselves while you were out in public. Your eldest son is nine, your middle kids are seven and then your youngest is three and then last but not least you’re five months pregnant with your fifth child. “We’ve been doing this for too long, I’m tired.” He said undoing the necktie that you just fixed along with the microphone.

“ITOSHI SAE! Stop it. This is the last interview for the year before our family trip. Please behave, how are your kids doing better than you?” He scoffed and refixed his tie then placed a kiss on your lips before leaving the room and walking onto the stage. Everyone clapped and cheered as he sat down and had this passive aggressive attitude towards the lady. The same interviewer who had a lot to say 11 years ago.

“Before you start this irrelevant conversation I have a question for you myself. Are you still trying to chase after men you know you can’t have? Or are you still being a gold digger?” Everyone in the crowd gasped at his question but then started laughing at her reaction. She was pissed, beyond pissed at that. “I-I only had one question. How’s life been so far since your shotgun secret wedding?”

“I’ve truly enjoyed life with my WIFE and my children. I’m very happy with how everything has been and I’m excited to see how we will grow especially since my WIFE and I are expecting our fifth child in four months.” People started clapping at the news while you sat there in shock, as much as the world knew you only had one child. Now they know you’re on your fifth child. “Five kids?” She asked setting her notecards down and looking up at him, “yes I guess you can say I just LOVE my WIFE.” he emphasized while looking at his watch for the time.

“We are all glad you’ve found the happiness you’ve wanted and more.” She said not making eye contact with Sae then ending the live interview. Sae exited the stage and headed straight towards the dressing room to come and see you. Just in the time span of 15 minutes he missed you, a lot. “Stop running Sae.” You said from behind him as you had just walked out the bathroom with your youngest daughter standing behind you. He turned and gently grabbed your face to kiss you.

“I love you Y/n.” you glanced up at him in confusion. “I love you Sae.” you responded rubbing his cheek as he looked down and hurriedly picked up his daughter who was hiding behind your leg. “And I love you SiSi.” he said kissing her cheek and making her laugh from her shy nature.

Later that night while you and your kids were sleeping on the sofa from watching a movie, Sae had taken a photo of you all and posting it on his instagram.

Caption: My forever goal 💞

dc: @marisely03

[satrs]

Can’t feel my face - bllk x fem!Reader N°15

Tags; angst, insults, a SURPRISEEEEEEEEE(I can't help myself sorry), 2.7k.

"So, you and him, huh?" You turn to look at the driver, a smug smirk on his face. You noticed his smirk waver a bit once you hummed in approval, your eyebrow tugging up in curiosity. "Jealous?"

He chuckled in return. "Jealous she says." He inhales sharply, eyes focused on the road while one hand rests on his thigh, impatiently tapping it to convey that he truly is jealous. "You two ain't official yet, eh?"

You hum again, causing him to smile at your honesty. "Then there's nothing to be jealous about." You were curious. "And why is that?" He snickered, eyes drifting from the street for a second to eye you up and down, eyes halting at your clenched together thighs before his gaze rose up to your face again, his tongue poking the inside of his cheek. He shrugged his shoulders sarcastically, a grin on his features not wavering as he drove you to the establishment you both called your workplace.

"That asshole dragged you into this shit?" You tried to stir up a conversation, preparing yourself for your encounter with Reo. The male shrugged again, exhaling as he raised his eyebrows momentarily. "It is what it is. Can't do nothin' about it."

He noticed your head hanging low, trying to lighten the mood. "Look, I don't know what he did to you, but I'm more than willing to beat his ass for it. That servant of his too." A small chuckle rang his ears. "What about your job?"

He scoffed at your question as it was obvious what he'd say. Fuck the job and fuck Mikage too. If he seriously hurt you, he's willing to risk it. There are many other jobs he could look into. Hell, he made enough money in the past months to maybe even do his own business. His own legal boxing club. That has a nice ring to it.

"I got some backup."

【☆】★【☆】

Once you both enter the building, you notice the odd silence that surrounded the club. Oliver grew suspicious, eyebrows crinkling as he peeked his head down the stairs to listen in on any possible sounds - to no avail. He hummed, senses spiking to the top. This is weird. Even in early hours, the club is full of staff and-

His thoughts got interrupted by a small noise coming from the bar at the far back behind the curtains, cautiously shielding you as he took your hand in his, walking up to the spot in question. 

And there he was, Reo. Hair fuzzed as they go in all direction, his head laying in the palms of his hands as puffs of frustration leave his mouth. You both look at him, confusion dripping down your faces before you look to the ground, noticing a shattered glass, toxic liquor shining against the shards scattered along the floor.

“What the hell, Reo?”

The purple haired cranes his neck at the sound of your voice, and you almost physically wince at his red shot eyes.

Oliver huffs out a laugh. “He’s lost it now. Not sure if money can fix that problem.” You slap him in the shoulder, earning a dramatic flinch from the man, before you hush him into the nearest backroom.

Whatever the hell was going on with Reo won’t end well with Oliver spiting out remark after remark over and over again.

“You better stay here, I’ll talk to him.” Raising your eyebrow at his scoff, you eye him. “Girl please. You think I’ll leave you alone in a room with that psycho?”

“Yes, I think you will. Now let go off me before I slap the sass out of you, dickhead.”

Admitting defeat, he lets go of your shoulder, a worried expression causing you to soften before you turn on your heels to confront the big Elephant in the room. “Don’t worry,” you try to reassure him, “it’ll be fine.”

As you step into the room, his purple orbs are already fixated on you, awaiting your next move. It’s been a while since you both last talked, going separate ways in a fight, for that matter.

Guilt washes over him as his sulks in his seat, averting his gaze from yours with his head hanging low at the table, finger circling around an empty glass, trying to distract himself from looking at you.

"Giving me the silent treatment?" You laugh, seating yourself next to the man, his gaze wandering around the wooden platform.

Suddenly, a laugh rang from the young man, startling you. Oh yeah, he's going insane.

"I don't know what's more funny", he begins, head lifting as his laugh dies down, hand swiftly wiping across his face before he continues, "the fact that you dare to fuck around in here, in my club, with my employees, or that I'm such a damned fool."

You gulp, brows crinkling in confusion. You don't know Reo for long, but you know him long enough to be conscious of his behavior. But this, even this, caught you off guard. "W-what are you talking about?"

His eyes are furious, teeth gritted together with his hands formed into concrete fists. It's downright impossible to predict his next move. Are you scared? Yeah. Should you've listened to Oliver? Hell yeah. But there is no way to change your decision now, so you might as well stand with it.

"You know what I'm fuckin' talking about." he points his finger at you, and his quick movement caused you to flinch slightly. It's your turn to spit back at him. "Watch your tongue now. If you don't get your shit together right fucking now, I'll go home."

"You'll go home? Home to my apartment, that I bought you, you mean?" Another loud chortle echoes to the room, alarming Oliver in the backroom. Something ain't right. Oliver is quick to storm right into the action, catching the eye of you both in an instant.

The room grows quiet, except from Reo's light chuckle. And in the next second, another glass lands shattered, now right at the feet of Oliver. Before the young boxer can even register the storm building up inside of him, Reo was quick to follow his action with a set of two words.

“You’re fired.”

Two words was all it took to tear the floor right from Oliver's feet, causing him to fall back into his old life again. Just like that. The world is cruel. Even more cruel at the hands of Reo Mikage.

"Pack your shit and get your pathetic ass out of here."

Being a billionaire isn't all just peace, joy and pancakes. It changes people. It changed him. Even if he doesn't realize it, he's slowly becoming the person he always despised.

"You know, Reo", he butts in a breathy chuckle, his multicolored eyes staring holes into the young billionaires face, "you look just like your father."

Red. The only color to describe the thing Reo sees right now, as he jumps up from his seat, ready to thrown himself onto the man before him.

Oliver was about to dodge his punch, but you appeared before Reo just in time, attempting to tear him away from the scene. Unfortunately, he breaks loose, pushing you away with a low voiced 'Fuck off'. "What does a low life like you know about my life, huh?", he barks at the man, breath heaving in rage.

As he was about to go completely insane, a familiar figure was quick to handle the situation, big, broad shoulders guiding Reo away from Oliver and out of the room into the direction of the apartment at the top of the facility.

Another man you fell apart in dispute, how great. Before you know it, tears begin to well up at your lash line, but you're quick to regain composure, hand swiftly wiping them away as you make your way to the basement door.

Once the tears were toweled down, you turn your head to a now leaving Oliver, biting you a quick goodbye before he heads off to the door.

"Wait." You just want to slap your face immediately at your cracked voice. Quickly clearing your throat, you continue, "if you need a place..."

You fall silent at his blank stare, lips formed into a thin line. "Don't sweat it", he responds, disappearing out into the city.

Well, now it's three, eh?

You sigh, exhausted, walking down into the secluded area in the basement, not even bothering to great anyone on your way to your working space.

As you enter your sweet escape, you slump yourself onto the leather couch, throwing your back next to you. Exhaustion washed over you as you pondered for a moment.

Was that really Reo just now? Did you ever even really knew him? And what's the matter with his father? He was seething in anger at just the mention.

"Fuck this," you whisper to yourself, ripping yourself out of your train of thought, a quick glance at the clock causing you to sigh. 3 more hours till the first match. "For fuck's sake."

Yeah, fucks sake. Not only did Reo escort you here three hours before your shift starting, but also didn't even talk to you. Except for his massive outburst, there was nothing else to it.

But this wasn't his intention at all. He wanted to talk, he really did, apologize even. But he didn't. He messed up. Again.

"Fuck!" he kicks his foot right into the expensive car next to him, earning a scolding from the white haired male that got him out of this mess in the first place. "Nuh uh not my car."

Nagi was quick to open the back door, throw Reo inside the backseat before he disappears into the driver's seat, ready to start the engine.

Perplexed, Reo tries to spit insults at him, to no avail.

Nagi, Reo's long trusted friend, already knew how to deal with Reo. And he also knew who he was. He knows that Reo is a good man, but, his fathers way started to rub off on him, insensible to it.

Nagi starts the engine, driving the vehicle to his own home. He glances into the rearview mirror, a small smile on his face at the sight of Reo's pouty face, mumbling some incoherent words as his hands struggle to put on the seatbelt.

"Let's get you away from this mess, blow off some steam, yeah? We didn't hop on the game for a while, how does that sound?"

Reo sighs in defeat, adjusting himself to calm down, "Alright, but I gotta be back in ten. Some guy applied as sponsor of the club. "

Halting at a red light, Nagi turns his head for a moment, facing Reo. "That's good news, no?"

Reo scoffs in response, lifting his shoulders briefly, "I don't know. That guy's giving me nausea. He's up for trouble."

【☆】★【☆】

Ten o'clock. Finally. The start of your shift.

You take a deep breath in once your door opens, bracing yourself for what might come forth. In a place like this, it could be anything and anyone.

Someone who's got the wrong door, a completely beat up boxer at the brink of a coma or maybe even a worker from the top looking for, god knows what.

"Hey ma."

And sometimes, it's Shidou.

A smile creeps up your lips as he walks up to you, hand resting on your hip as he gives your forehead a quick peak. "How's it goin'?"

You sigh, shaking your head to tell him not to inquire any further, earning a confused look in return. "So? Here to dump me again" He laughs, white crowns visible. "I'm here to apologize. Didn't know it was that..", he looked around the room, searching for the right words,"heated, between you two."

Your hands play with the bottom of his shirt, averting your gaze from him. "Plus, ya seemed out of it when you came down here, figured I come see you." His words are followed with another set of kisses to your face, earning a giggle from you in return.

"So, who do I gotta beat up?", he whispers against your lips before planting a soft kiss to them. You bite your bottom lip in return, urging him to sit on the couch, your expression turning serious again.

Shidou watches you intensely as you sit down and explain every detain that he missed out on. He never interrupted you, laughed or did anything of that matter. He just listened. That's what you really needed right now, someone who would listen.

As you conclude, he nods his head in understanding, followed by a short whistle. "Damn doll. I heard about yer new place and all but, the other stuff? Tough."

"Yeah", you respond, head comfortably resting on his shoulder with his arm wrapped around you.

He sits up, looking you dead in the eye with a broad smile on his face, an idea clicking his mind. "Ya know what? Those fuckers want my head on a platter anyway. So why not stay at my place for a while? You know, blow off some steam, maybe?"

His words seemed innocent, but his low tone told you otherwise. Amused, you follow his finger trail down your thigh, caressing the flesh in a teasing manner. "All of em took you from me. But, I was first, remember?"

You nod, gaze flickering from his eyes to his broad grin, "Ya didn't forget about me, did ya?"

"'f course not", you whisper, peaking your lips at his before standing up, walking up to the door to escort him out. "I'm off at three. 'M all yours then."

He laughs at that. Impossible, that's what you are. Never has he met a woman like you, so sure and confident about herself. On top of that, a woman that could have so many men wrapped around her fingers just like that.

If Sae finds out about this, he'll surely kill him for it. Shidou may be a tease, but he's not oblivious to the fact that Sae had feelings for you. Not only was it obvious from his actions, but his words as well.

Before Shidou knew you, he actually already knew you.

To clear the confusion, Sae would often mention you to him, even if it was briefly. Sometimes, Shidou would even overhear your sweet voice on the phone with the red haired, or see your text pop on his friend's screen.

Back then when Sae told him that you, the infamous woman who had Sae wrapped around her finger, would come for a visit at Blue Lock, he had to be there. He was intrigued, not to say the least.

So switching up to fight instead of some no-name newcomer did play out well. He finally met you. And then, he understood what Sae's fuss was all about.

Friendships aside, Shidou is a simple man. He says what he wants, and he gets it. What if that something is the situationship of his friend? The demon is ready to play the all to familiar devil's game.

"Got it. See ya then, ma." He responds, giving you one last look before he walks out into the crowd of noise and light, disappearing from your sight.

【☆】★【☆】

Two more hours, you tell yourself at your nth glance at the clock, hand brushing over your hair to get ready for your next patient.

Today sure is something. First a broken arm, then an inner hemorrhage followed by a concussion. You tried your best to help them with everything in your power before sending them off to the hospital, where they could be treated with better equipment and personnel.

As you linger in the silence of your small break, you failed to notice that you left your door open with your last patient leaving.

A tall, broad figure takes a peek inside, blue hues observing your relaxed self from behind.

"Well hello there. Is this a secret VIP stripper room I didn't know of?"

You're quick to turn your head to the source with your sense in high alert, angry expression, causing him to stop his chuckle. "Not one for jokes? Excuse me."

His half-assed apology almost seemed mocking of some sorts, as he slightly bows with his hand attached to his chest, blue strands of hair appearing behind the bush of blonde, a sly smirk attached to his handsomely pale face.

"Yeah, excuse you." You scoff, shaking your head in disbelief. Probably another rich guy who's about to bet his whole fortune on a game, losing his status and prime in a blink of an eye. You're here long enough to know better.

But still, there's something so mysteriously intriguing about him that you can't point your finger on. His deep, ocean blue eyes? Or was it the hay blond hair? Or maybe the barely noticeable tattoo poking from his suit, spreading its way up his neck? "Well, who the hell are you?"

He lifts from his position, orbs prominently shining as he ranks his gaze shamelessly over your figure before halting at your face.

"I'm Kaiser. But you can call me Michael, gorgeous. Pleasure meeting you."

©︎𝙎𝘼𝙏𝙍𝙎 all rights reserved. Do NOT plagiarize, copy, modify, republish, or translate my work in any way!

[thalialunacy]

[written for the @calaisreno May Prompts Safari. E-rating, y'all. and schmoopy as hell.]

(1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) (7) (8) (9) (10) (11) (12) (13) (14) (15) (16) (17) (18) (19) (20) (21) (22) (23) (24) (25) (26) (27) (28) (29) 30: journey (31)

When next they arrive at Sherlock's parents' house, it's the end of May bank holiday and John is more than ready to hand over his child in exchange for a strong drink.

This, he muses as his wish comes true without even having to be voiced, is the magic of grandparents.

---

He's just coming back from putting Rosie down when he hears surprisingly raucous laughter and the words '... the priest was never quite the same after that, was he?'

He comes to a stop in the centre of the furniture configuration, looking round at various family members with a raised eyebrow. 'Holmeses,' he says solemnly. 'Dare I ask?'

'Oh, absolutely,' Sherlock's mum replies. 'We've had enough to drink that we're starting in on rude stories.' John coughs, and she waves her hand, somehow managing not to spill any wine. 'Not rude like that. Well. Mostly not.'

Mycroft, of all people, lets out what could graciously be called a snort. 'I'll start: John, I must tell you that once, at Christmas, Mother told us her shirt had French letters on it, and then had no idea why Grandfather looked so scandalised.'

John looks to Sherlock, perplexed. 'Condoms, John,' Sherlock explains. 'Eighteenth century Britons called them, among other things, "French letters."'

John swallows his mouthful of scotch. 'Of course.'

'Oh, oh!' Sherlock's mum starts. 'John, there was a time when Mycroft was so worried that baby Sherlock would roll out of bed that he found every blanket in the house and made him a huge nest. Then wouldn't leave his side.'

Mycroft purses his lips. 'I did no such thing.'

'Don't lie to your mother. You were there for days. You nearly suffocated him, you were so worried.'

Sherlock's father chuckles. 'There was also a time, John, that he and Sherlock volunteered to be ushers at church and ended up fighting over which offering plate had the most in it at the end. The Altar Guild was cross with us for months.'

John does laugh at that one.

'Yes, yes,' Sherlock drawls. 'And believe it or not, John, Father frequently used to play hangman with me in the church bulletin during services.'

His mother turns to her husband, genuinely surprised. 'Did you really?'

His father shrugs. 'It was better than the alternative.'

His mother eyes her younger son. 'Yes, that's probably true.' But she doesn't bother hiding her fond smile.

This goes on for quite a while, all four Holmeses using John as their audience to tell increasingly far-fetched stories about their shared histories. John, sat next to Sherlock and making his way slowly through two fingers of fine alcohol, can't help but be charmed. They're ridiculous, and, let's be honest, fairly weird, but they obviously have great affection for each other. Despite what Mycroft and Sherlock might claim.

When there's a lull, he just asks it: 'Out of curiosity, why are you telling me all this? Not that I don't find it amusing, obviously, but… Sherlock?'

John's eyes narrow, his stomach somersaulting, as he realises Sherlock has slid off the sofa and onto both knees, his whole family is situated on various pieces of furniture behind him like a posed picture, and he's got--

'Oh.'

--he's got a rather distinctive item in the palm of his outstretched hand.

'Oh.'

'Yes, very good John, knew you'd cotton on eventually.'

His voice is strong, yet a bit off. John searches his face. 'You're not taking the p--' He glances at Sherlock's mum. '--mickey?'

'Yes,' Sherlock deadpans. 'I gathered my whole very hilarious family of known pranksters to pull your leg in an elaborate and expensive manner.'

'Alright, keep your shirt on. I just-- You're serious. You actually want to get-- be-- married. To… me.'

'If you and Rosamund will have me.'

John feels it like a surge, but tamps it down. 'And Reginald the cat?'

Sherlock is slightly taken aback. 'Obviously. Unless that would be an issue for you, if Rosamund--'

John barks out a laugh, plucks the ring from Sherlock's hand and yanks him back up onto the sofa. 'Oh shut up, you absolute disaster, of course we bloody will.'

Sherlock's mouth curves, but he doesn't fully relax. 'Even though I come with this lot attached?' He waves at his family without looking at them. 'Those stories, I assure you, are only the tip of the iceberg.'

John wants to tackle him. 'You've met my "A-leveled in alcoholism" sister, have you not?'

'Well, yes, but--'

'Shut. Up.' John glances at the rest of the family, feeling his ears turn a bit red at their blatant interest in the proceedings, but clears his throat and grabs the back of Sherlock's neck anyway. 'I love the hell out of you, remember?' he says quietly.

Sherlock's gaze jumps around his face, searching. 'I seem to recall something about that, yes.'

'And if the shit we've gone through in the last decade hasn't broken us--' Sherlock opens his mouth. '--inoperably, hasn't broken us inoperably, then I'm pretty damn sure we'll be fine.' He touches their lips together very briefly, then presses their foreheads together for a moment longer.

Sherlock's mum very cheerfully breaks the moment. 'Wait until Rosie's a teenager to say that, dear.'

'Mum.' John feels Sherlock's groan rumble through him, and can't help but chuckle.

He pulls back, dropping his hand, and gives the family a sheepish but unashamed look. 'We'll cross that bridge when we come to it, I think.'

'Indeed. Life is a journey, not a destination.'

Everyone turns to stare at Mycroft.

He stares back, lifting his chin. 'What? Am I not meant to know Emerson?'

'Are we sure he's not been replaced by a cyborg?' John whispers to Sherlock.

'Who would be able to tell the difference?' Sherlock parries immediately.

Mycroft huffs. 'Oh, please. Go consummate this new relationship status so I can have some peace.'

John clears his throat. 'Beg pardon?'

Mycroft rolls his eyes and stands. 'Shall we fetch another round of drinks before we move on?'

His parents exchange a look, then stand. 'That is a brilliant idea,' says his mum.

'I am rather known for them,' Mycroft says dryly, heading to the kitchen without a glance backwards.

John tries again. 'Beg p--'

Sherlock's mother pats him on the cheek. 'Oh, we have a movie night planned. With lots of explosions.'

'Ah,' Sherlock says, as if this explains everything.

John turns to him with a questioning look. 'The home theatre room,' Sherlock clarifies, his droll tone belied by his slightly pinked neck, 'is at the opposite end of the house from the rooms they've given us for the weekend.'

John considers being embarrassed for half a second, but then decides it's of no use. 'Ta, Holmeses. We'll see you in the morning.'

'Oh, and don't worry about the baby's wake-up,' Sherlock's father adds as he's following the rest out of the room. He gestures at his wife's retreating back. 'This one will take care of her so you lot can be as lazy as you like.'

'As if John is ever--'

John nudges the detective's elbow. 'It's a euphemism, Sherlock.'

'Oh. Certainly.' He nods, once, at his father. 'Thank you.'

---

Sherlock gets up the stairs ahead of him, but they're still yards from the door to their room when he stops and unceremoniously herds John against the wall. John grunts in surprise. 'What? Are you--'

Sherlock's lips stop up his words, and distract him so much he doesn't really clock that Sherlock's gorgeous hands are working efficiently at his trouser fastening… until all of the sudden he does.

'Are you mad?' he manages when Sherlock mouths across his jaw, his hand plunging into John's pants with finesse. John is soft, but he won't be for long at this rate, Jesus. He has to tighten his hold on Sherlock's biceps.

'Of course I am,' Sherlock answers, voice like butterscotch against John's ear. Then he drops to his knees, and John nearly swoons like a Victorian maiden.

'Your family!' he hisses instead, unable to stop a hand from weaving into Sherlock's hair. Not to pull, not this time at least. This time, to just… be there.

'They're all occupied,' Sherlock replies, the words throwing heat against John's now-exposed hip. 'They may be feckless but they still have some propriety left.' He looks up at John, his lips hovering tantalisingly near the tip of the plumping cock he holds in his hands.

'Fuck,' John breathes. 'Go on, then.'

Sherlock needs no more permission.

John has had more illicit liaisons in his life, it's true, but for some reason (he knows the reason) he goes from half-mast to panting to mindless word repetition in a record amount of time.

'Sherlock--' He tries to keep his voice down, so it comes out much more desperate than he'd intended, but fuck it. 'If you keep-- Sherlock--'

He hears--and feels--an urgent sound come from his partner, and looks down, past those fucking eyes, to the hand speedily opening trousers and drawing himself out.

John probably whimpers, that's how fucking hot he finds that view, and in combination with Sherlock's admirable oral efforts, he speeds towards climax at a rate he's not achieved in years. There's a flash of a thought of inadequacy, but it's overcome handily by watching Sherlock fuck his own hand at a near-frantic pace. He does clutch Sherlock's hair, finally, as he comes down his gorgeous throat.

He hears a curse and opens his eyes just in time to see Sherlock ejaculate almost neatly into a handkerchief he must've pulled from his pocket.

He wants to laugh. He pulls Sherlock to his feet, heedless of their state of dishabille, and kisses him, hard. Well, as hard as he can before he does indeed start to laugh.

'I can't believe you did that,' he rasps as he barrels them through the bedroom door, finally. He feels stupid, giddy. Frothy.

'Which part?' Sherlock replies as they shed their already-unfastened clothes and fwump somewhat gracefully onto the bed.

'You bastard,' John groans without heat. 'Despoiling a handkerchief? Getting off where anyone could come walking on by? Proposing to me with your whole family around like a flock of posh geese?'

'What a ridiculous image.'

John rolls over to partially smush Sherlock, who wheezes slightly and wraps his arms around John's torso. 'I'll show you a ridiculous image,' John says, giving his best Randy Lad smirk.

Sherlock raises an eyebrow. 'So soon?'

'Maybe. Okay, no, but I can still do some damage, ta very much.'

'Such as?'

John sobers. He drops his eyes to Sherlock's chin. 'You'll laugh at me.'

A long, graceful finger traces around his orbital socket. 'Don't let that stop you.'

'Berk.'

'Such as?'

John just breathes for a moment. Then he reaches out to touch a small nevus on Sherlock's collarbone, then travels the trail to another one. 'Oh, just…' He follows his finger with his tongue, tasting. 'Want to trace the constellations onto you.'

He hears Sherlock inhale, and feels it as his chest rises. Then John finds himself pulled into a long, deep, ridiculous kiss.

'By all means,' Sherlock finally says against his lips. 'I look forward to your very thorough survey.'

John releases a breath, and settles in to get started.

[<3]

[dellalyra]

Family Formation Part Three

Summary: The Gojo's share a soft, warm moment with Yuuji after an unexpected midnight run in.

SERIES MASTERLIST requests currently open :)&lt;3

CW: fluff, pregnancy, mild threat, sukuna being sukuna, this is almost more of a crack fic but like it's really soft bc so many people wanted Y/N and Gojo to adopt Yuuji after part two but part four... is going to be heartbreaking I'm sorry

11.43pm - Tokyo Prefectural High School, Dorm Building Kitchen

You’re in the common room, waiting for your husband to finish up a mission - looking at your phone you see him say he’ll be about 10 minutes, so you go to make yourself a quick cup of tea before he gets here and goes home. You could hear the kids up in their dorms until about 30 minutes ago after you had made dinner for you all this evening.

As you boil the kettle, you feel a silent presence lurking behind you, just at the entrance to the kitchen- a drastic shift in cursed energy, one you’d rather not be familiar with but sadly have come to know all too well. You continue to prepare your tea in peace. “Evening, Sukuna.” You say, with an exasperated sigh. A kitchen conversation with the King of Curses wasn’t quite how you imagined this evening to go but you’ll make do. It feels like your baby starts to sense the cursed energy too, with them kicking a little more since Sukuna’s arrival - Gojo genes are strong in this one you see.

A growl emanates through the room, “You dare address me so casually, wench?” “I do, Sukuna, you’re far too smart to start shit in here and with me right now, so do shut up and let me enjoy my tea.” “Oh, what a brave little girl you are - are you in any position to do anything but beg for me to spare the life of you and your child?” His eyes seem to flow red through the dimly lit room.

“I would say I’m rather well safeguarded yes, I’m a special grade sorcerer, and even 7 months pregnant I could inflict decent damage on you, my husband is Gojo Satoru, and my son who possesses the Ten Shadow technique is down the hall AND is overprotective and down the hall, a girl who may as well be my daughter, doing the same and another Grade 1, but most of all - the body you are housed in is that of a boy who is also as good as a son to me, and the minute you start to show me any real threat I know he will make up and squash your nighttime wandering hopes. So, tell me, what can I help you with, Sukuna?” You roll your eyes, knowing full well he’s trying to grandstand and intimidate you, but you just do not have the patience to deal with it right now. As you speak you pour the water into your mug and sit yourself down with a groan at your tired feet. The glare you were given along with the smirk and what you could only assume to be a laugh may scare some, but not you, you’ve seen and exorcised far worse than Sukuna in a 15-year-old boy's body in the kitchen. “Hm, I like you - you’ve got balls. As for what I wanted, well, I suppose I wanted to see for myself the woman carrying the future of jujutsu sorcery - hardly any fun going through all this trouble to regain my power if there will be nothing interesting to use it on.” He stalls towards you, eyeing you and your growing stomach like a trophy. “The child - it is strong, not even taken a breath and the cursed energy outweighs your own. Possibly it’s fathers too. And you’ve raised the Ten Shadows boy, for a human I almost respect you, there’s nothing quite as entertaining as a fierce woman.”

The flare in your cursed energy at the thought of Sukuna even discussing your children would have blown lesser beings to ash but luckily, years of control and practice have kept you from unleashing the rage of a protective mother - this is not even the first time. The very night Sukuna was reborn inside Yuuji, you stood in front of your injured son Megumi which fire burning inside you as Gojo watched the love and care you had for him and that boy behind you turn into a blast slamming the curse into the building. (Your initial concern for hurting the as-yet-unknown rosey-haired child diminished after having seen how Sukuna reinforced his body during a brief scuffle with your husband).

“Sukuna, you have seen that I am quite clearly pregnant, you’ve done what you came to do - off you go, unless you’re going to say you want tea -” with a snarl and muttering about the insolence of humans and the arrogance of every Gojo he retreats as a waking Yuuji looks around, clearly confused.

“Y/N? Why am I in the kitchen? I was asleep? Wait, why are you here, where’s Gojo-Sensei?” The words all tumble out mingled with a yawn from him. Seeing no reason to hide the truth, you continued. “You’re okay Yuuji, Satoru will be here in a minute, I’m just waiting here for him to finish up a quick mission, didn’t want to drive so I’ll go home with him. And as for why you’re in the kitchen, it seemed your body roommate wanted a midnight stroll.” You put your mug onto the counter as you reboil the water to make some tea for Yuuji, hoping it would coax him back to sleep. “Wait, Sukuna? Are you okay? Oh god, I’m so sorry, what did he want?” He flustered about.

“Yuuji honey, I’m absolutely fine, and you have nothing to be sorry for. He just wanted to see if the rumors of a new Six Eyes could be true. We were all completely safe sweetheart, I sent him packing and pretty much told him if he didn’t want tea he could piss off, he’s too smart to ever try anything that could put himself in danger - so don’t worry, you’re safe with Satoru and me around. Plus, I think this one is going to have both my temper and Satoru’s lack of sanity so, you’re surrounded by Gojo’s who love you.” You pat your belly and then his head and push the chamomile tea mug into his hands. He scratches the back of his neck and thanks you, muttering about how much of a dick Sukuna is. You giggle at him and sit down.

“Wait, did you really ask the king of curses if he wanted tea?” Yuuji asked as if that part of the story had just clicked in his head. “Well, Shoko always said I was too ballsy for someone my size.” You giggle and he laughs too, but nods, knowing you are one of the bravest (and kinda scary in a fight) people he’s met since joining the sorcery world.

“He didn’t want any tea though. Maybe he’s a hot chocolate kinda guy.” You say, with a straight face, Yuuji looks at you for a moment and then bursts into hysterical laughter as you giggle about wrapping Sukuna in a blanket and giving him cocoa with tiny marshmallows. As you’re finishing your tea, Satoru walks (flounces) through the door and leans down to pepper your face with kisses. “Well if it isn’t my dearest, darling, sweetheart, angel wife. Are you ready to go home? I have some snacks for us before bed.” He says as you notice the bags behind his back. He then turns to Yuuji, “Huh, you have Sukuna cooties tonight. What did I miss?” Itadori turns his nose up at the residuals being called cooties. “It’s alright, ‘Toru. Sukuna decided to check out whether the rumor of more Gojo spawn was true. Got poor Yuuji out of bed for it and all.” You reassured him.

“Huh, well, you okay, baby? He didn’t upset you did he?” You loved that Satoru had so much faith in your abilities and strength that he knew he needed to be nothing but support for you, and you’d spoken before about his being surrounded by sorcerers was the safest place for Yuuji to be so you both knew Sukuna wouldn’t risk his chance. You weren’t dumb enough to think you could take down Sukuna alone - only Satoru could have a chance, but you could definitely hold him off with your powerful cursed technique long enough for Satoru to arrive. You kissed his cheek and nodded that you were absolutely fine.

“Gojo-sensei, she offered him tea. Sukuna.” Yuuji said, still in disbelief. “That’s my girl!” Hearing this, Satoru laughed and pulled you into his chest, beaming at his beautifully snarky, witty wife.

“Now, Satoru, let’s get home - it’s late. I can see you yawning, Yuuji, back to bed.” You usher him down the hall to his dorm and make sure he gets into bed, as he sleepily tumbles into his Spider-Man sheets you’d gotten a few months back, you whisper goodnight to him. As you were about to close the door, you hear a very sleepy, barely awake ‘gnight mom, night dad.’ You squeeze Satoru’s hand as you smile at each other, wordless but endless appreciation for what you just heard and have only ever heard from Megumi (rarely) and Tsumiki (you missed hearing it from her). You knew Yuuji would be back to Y/N and Gojo-Sensei tomorrow but now in a sleepy vulnerable moment that’s how he saw and felt about you both was enough to know you guys must be doing something right.

“Satoru, we should really stop picking up stray kids on the street and keeping them.” You giggle thinking of the siblings, Yuuji and the sweet boy you cared for currently in Africa with Miguel. “Hm, nah, we need a whole collection, our own army - now c’mon, the baby just said ‘Hey dad get mom home I want to have cuddles and mochi with you’” in the worst baby impression ever he squeaked at you and he picked you up bridal style to warp you home, but not before you get in a quiet “oh really, when did you become the womb whisperer? That sounds like you want that to me.”

TAGLIST:

@vesta-ro *

@sassy-cat-in-town

@lilithlunas

@madam-ri

[rorywritesjunk]

Let’s be one another’s present tense

Buggy ‘rescues’ you from an abusive situation, and after a less than stellar introduction, he has you audition for his crew to keep you safe. You want safety, security, and joining a circus seems like the best idea.

Rating: Soft NC-17?

Warning: Mentions of sex, getting caught, dirty talk. Confessions! Buggy is grabby.

A/N: Here's some Cupcake and Buggy y'all. <3

Title comes from “Crater Lake” by Lady Lamb

Chapter 1 + Chapter 2 + Chapter 3 + Chapter 4 + Chapter 5 + Chapter 6 + Chapter 7 + Chapter 8 + Chapter 9 (NC-17) + Chapter 10 + Chapter 11 + Chapter 12 + Chapter 13 + Chapter 14 + Chapter 15 (NC-17) + Chapter 16 (NC-17) + Chapter 17

TAGLIST: @lostfirefly @neuvilleteismybby @fluffybunnyu @sinning-23 @the-angriest-angel @ane5e @fanshavegottensotoxic @honey-deerling

Chapter 10

You weren't sure you heard him correctly at first.

Maybe it was an accident, a slip of the tongue, because when you set the plate down and he said, “Aw, I love you.” your brain stopped working. Did he mean it? You were pretty sure you loved him but hadn't been sure if he felt the same. There was that tiny voice in the back of your head that sometimes popped up, saying he just kept you around for relief, that no one wanted someone broken and fucked up like you were, but the voice was quickly tuned out whenever Buggy kissed you or brought you a snack when you were helping the other freaks out. He just had different ways to show how he loved you.

Unless he was saying it to the food? Was he even talking to you?

Everyone was gone and you were cleaning, scraping your barely touched meal into the bin with the rest of the food scraps. Buggy remained behind as he had done many times before, but this time with his hand on your ass while he sat in his seat, grinning at you. 

It had been two weeks since the first time he fucked you and since then he was feeling you up any chance he had until he could find time to get you off. It was great, really, and if you weren't stunned over him saying I love you you wouldn't have any issues with his hand squeezing your ass right then, but you were in shock.

“Babe, Cupcake, what's got you thinking so much?” Buggy asked, growing annoyed that you were ignoring him. “What's a clown gotta do to get some attention?”

“Did… did you mean what you said?” You asked as you started filling the sink with water. “Uh, when I gave you breakfast?”

Buggy frowned, trying to think that far back (thirty minutes ago) was difficult. What did he even say to you that had you acting so weird? “No?”

“Buggy, you said you love me.”

“Yea, and?” He got up from his seat and approached you from behind, arms wrapping around your waist as one hand rested on your stomach while the other ghosted over the waistband of your pants. “That a problem? Hm?”

You turned the water off and looked back at him. “Did you mean it?”

“Mean what?” His lips were against the shell of your ear while his hand started to slide past your waistband. Someone could walk in and see what he was up to but Buggy didn't care. “You gotta be clear, Cupcake. I'm not following you.”

You grabbed him by the wrist, stopping his hand from going any further. He made an unhappy face at that as you turned around in his arms to face him.

“Do you love me, Buggy?”

“Yea.” He said without missing a beat. “I do.” He cocked his head to the side. “Why? Dontcha feel the same?”

Shit. “I… I do, but… I wasn't… ready, um, to-”

“Say it back?” He finished. “Look, I get it, it's too fast, you're not ready, all that kind of shit. I can't help it. When I saw you back in that monster's office all those months ago and the way you insulted me and assaulted me all in the same day, I never thought I would have ended up fucking you and falling in love with you.”

“But…”

“No buts, babe, except yours, of course.” Buggy placed his hands on either side of you, trapping you between him and the sink, smirking as he looked down at you. “I love your ass and you love mine, that's all that matters.”

“I guess I just… expected some flashy fireworks or Cabaji on his unicycle with a flag that said that.” You said with a shrug. “I didn't expect it over a plate of fried eggs and bacon.”

“Well, as we know, I'm unpredictable.” He chuckled, leaning in to kiss you. “I mean, I can set off fireworks later, if you want.”

“Promise?” You asked as you reached for his cravat, holding him down as you kissed him. He mumbled something against your lips, moving his hands to your hips and steering you away from the sink. He lifted you up onto the counter and you spread your legs for him, raising an eyebrow. “The kitchen, where we eat?”

He shrugged as he undid your pants. “You're just so tasty, Cupcake.”

“Still.” You chuckled as you put your hands on the counter, lifting yourself up just enough for him to slide your pants past your ass and down your legs before tossing them aside. “Anyone could walk in.”

“So? That’ll teach’em to slack off on their work.” He grumbled as you reached between the two of you, sliding your hand down his pants. Swearing softly, he kissed you, hips jerking against your hand.

He removed his gloves, stuffing them into his pocket before grabbing your hand and pushing it away. He moved fast, pulling you to the edge of the counter before kneeling down in front of you. He pressed kisses to the inside of your thighs, looking up at you with a soft, gentle gaze. 

“I love you.” He told you with each kiss. “So much. I trust you, Cupcake, and Imma take care of you forever.”

It was sweet and kind of romantic, even with your bare ass on the rough wooden counter while your boyfriend gave attention to your thighs and stomach first, scattering kisses over your skin. You took his bandana off, not caring that he just did his hair before breakfast, you wanted to touch, play, tug on his hair. He glanced up at you as you ran your fingers through it, humming contently as you smiled down at him.

“I love you too, Buggy.” You told him,  not missing the way he grinned against your skin, teeth suddenly nipping at the inside of your thigh. “And, and I trust you and I'm going to take care of you forever too.”

“Yea? Really?” He asked, resting his head against your thigh as he looked up at you. “Promise?”

“Really, babe. I promise.”

~

The sex almost didn't happen because as soon as Buggy was about to start, a crewman wandered in, startling the both of you while getting an eyeful of the captain's bare ass. The way Buggy’s head spun around to scream at them to get out while he was starting to fuck you was… kind of hot. It was nice to see his anger when it wasn't directed at you (which he made a point to never do such a thing) and the muttering under his breath after the crewman ran off, stuff about damn idiots and that’ll teach'em to slack off, the fuckers as he glared down at you, hips slamming into yours, was something you found yourself liking.

And he was a little rougher this time. Your ass definitely felt it from the marks the wooden counter left behind after Buggy was done. When he gave you back your pants and you hopped off the counter to pull them back on, he had you turn around just enough so he could see.

“Shit, does it hurt?”

“No, not at all.” You assured him as you buttoned up your pants. “It was a little uncomfortable but it was worth it.”

“You should have said something!” Buggy whined as he dragged his fingers through his hair, looking upset by just the thought of him possibly hurting you. You seemed fine during, but what about now? “Cupcake, baby, I'm so sorry-”

“I'm fine, really.” You covered his mouth with your hand before he could continue. “You didn't hurt me at all, Buggy. I promise.”

He didn't look convinced but he didn't want to argue this early in the morning. He patted your ass gently before you two went your separate ways for chores. He went to make sure the crew was doing well while you went to collect laundry. In the week since you stopped performing, you took up doing laundry. That was something you could do, having done it enough growing up. You knew how to get stains and smells of all kinds out of fabrics and as long as no one asked you to mend something you were fine.

~

A few weeks passed. The freaks appreciated the help with the laundry as it was one less thing for them to worry about. With as big of a crew Buggy had, you basically spent every day working on it, which was fine, you wanted to feel useful. You didn't want anyone to think you were getting special treatment for sleeping with the captain, especially since it was no secret now that multiple freaks happened to walk in on the both of you at different times throughout different areas of the tent. 

“I think you like getting caught, Buggy.” You said as you pulled your pants up after another sneaky session. Another poor unsuspecting freak walked in on you bent over some storage crates while Buggy was behind you with his pants at his ankles, so they didn’t necessarily see anything but it was obvious what was going on. He shrugged at that, tucking himself back into his pants before he grabbed you by the chin, smirking down at you as his thumb reached up to caress your bottom lip softly.

“And? I'm betting you do as well since you never stop me, Cupcake.” He murmured as he leaned down, pressing a kiss on your cheek before he continued, “I think you want someone to see me fucking you, y’know? Let them know you’re the Captain’s and no one else’s. They can see how beautiful you look when you take my cock and how much I love it when you cum on me.”

You grabbed his arm for balance, legs feeling weak from the words spilling from his mouth. And he didn’t slow down as he backed you up against the crates as he continued the filthy praises, how you felt around him when you’d cum, the fucked out look in your eyes, and he was tempted to do it all over again right now if he didn’t have to get back to work. 

“Cupcake?” He asked as he let go of your chin and put his hand on your cheek. “You with me?”

“Fuck, Buggy.” You were flushed, heart pounding, trying to catch your breath as you stared up at him. “You-You can’t just say all that and not fuck me again.” 

He just pecked you on the lips before pulling away with a laugh. You glared at him and swatted at his ass as he started to walk away.

“Asshole.” 

“Love you too, Cupcake.” He said with a wink and a cheeky grin as he disappeared out the door.

You hated the clown sometimes.

[sseniita]

hi I really like the dumb blonde story! Will you write more of it? If not that's okay!

hsjdh

(also can you tag me if you do so I can see it?)

@wacko-weirdo sorry it took like a million years,,,, i had no idea what to write LOL , this one is for u my liege

i pledge allegiance to dumb blondes (2!)

part 1!

The villain didn’t know why he thought this would be easy. The hero was loud and attracted a lot of attention, not only to themself but to the villain as well. They would insist on keeping the other soldiers occupied with card games and nightcaps that kept them dizzy till morning which resulted in ten extra laps around the base during morning drills. 

They complained about broken nails, needed 15 minutes to do their hair, insisted on a private bathroom and argued with authoritative figures, but worst of all, they seemed to take a liking to the villain. They had gotten comfortable far too quickly. Though they never had the pleasure of fighting each other on the field, the sparring practice late at night behind the cafeteria proved the villain was missing out. The hero wasn’t good to any extent- but they were fun. 

To say the villain liked them was an overstatement. Perhaps saying the hero liked the villain was too. The villain could barely stomach when they showed up to breakfast practically shirtless, when they laughed at half-assed jokes, and returned lazy and suggestive compliments. But the villain liked them on the ground. Panting, bloody, covered in bruises and dirt. He liked it when they bounced back in a pathetic attempt to bring the villain down. He liked the way they’d try stalling by flirting, it was different when they did it with the villain as compared to the soldiers- it was malicious with intent.

“That was terrible.” The hero was on the ground, staining the cuff of their sleeve by cleaning the blood off their face. “Get up,” he demanded.  

The villain grabbed them by the collar of their jumpsuit. The hero only chuckled. 

“Ok. Ok. I’m up.” They rasped. 

“It’s been a month. You haven’t gotten any better. You’re wasting my time, hero.” The hero grabbed the villain’s wrist that was still gripping tightly to their collar. 

“Maybe I don’t wanna get better. Maybe I like the way you hit me.” 

Despite himself, the villain was amused. The hero was anything but heroic. They'd make a terrible captain. 

“You’re insane. I can’t wait to kill you.” The hero smiled at that- like it was the first real compliment they received since they arrived at the base. They got their footing and the villain let go. The hero feigned disappointment.

“There goes my plan to continue your rehabilitation,” they sighed "why continue training me then?"

“It’s more so for myself. It’d be boring if you died so quickly.” he turned to his jacket he’d disregarded when the fight was getting stuffy. "Besides, it's not like you're learning much of anything."

“I should kill you.” 

The villain clicked their tongue. “Now, now. Heroes don’t kill, sweetheart.” Before he could reach for his jacket, a force threw him down. The villain had almost forgotten the feeling of panic-fueled adrenaline, like a shock through his body.

In less than the second the villain took to realize what was going on, the hero was straddling his hips and sending two punches (one for good measure) right to his jaw. The villain spit out blood and stopped struggling against their tight hold.

The fact that the hero of all people had managed to overpower the villain was a cold realization that sent shivers up the his spine; (that could have also been thanks to the hero's muscular thighs around them- but who's to say) they were getting sloppy. The villain was at ease where he should definitely not have been.

Having the hero as his pawn in the game was as sobering of a thought as having the hero being the only pawn in the game, his plan, his magnum opus.

The hero could very easily destroy the villain's plan and make him start from zero, but if he played his cards right- they were also the key to his victory. Ironically, it wasn't much better on the hero's side: the hero needed the villain for their own reasons. Both extremely vital, but useless, if not fatal, if uncooperative. The villain knew the hero knew this. This is to say who is in control here?

After hero caught their breath, their hands landed on the villain's chest, applying enough pressure to be considered a warning.

“I win.” They smiled. “I may not be strong, but if I’m good at something it’s looking for an opening.” their lips curled into something knowing, something taunting. "Opportunities come in all shapes and sizes." They patted the villain's chest, almost amicably.

“I noticed, all with how natural it is for you to get on top of someone."

"Thanks." they sneered. No venom.

They leaned down, their lips dangerously close to the shell of his ear. 

“I know what your plan is. Trust me I won’t make it easy.” The villain only listened, coming to the exciting realization he was the hero's only pawn as well; no one was in control. And they had entered a complex mutually dependent situation. Perhaps the first for both of them. How romantic.

The villain turned his head, lips touching the hero's cheek as they whispered.

"Perhaps I’ll underestimate you when the time comes. But for now, you’re nothing more than a teenager whose daddy didn’t let play with the big kids.” 

“Ohh, it’s going to be so much fun bringing you down” 

“Oh, the most fun. But we have things to do before then, don’t we?” 

The hero pulled their face up to stare at the villain. Neither one of them looked away as they glared daggers. The hero finally chuckled, breathlessly. 

“You know what the other soldiers say about us?” The hero whispered, the electric tension immediately disappearing. They seemed to be good at that.

“Can you blame them? A popular hero and reformed villain sneak away in the middle of the night for hours.” The villain explained. “Bound to raise some eyebrows.” 

“Imagine the drama when we become best of friends at Hero HQ, only for a heartbreaking betrayal.”

“You’ve always been a spectacle, Hero.” The hero finally got off the villain, lending a hand the villain accepted and didn’t let go of once they were both standing. “You seem ok. But something tells me you’re so much worse.” 

“You’re a bad influence. And a wretched teacher.” 

“Unfixable, some would say.”

“Clearly.”

[garricks4thwingqueen]

Rebellious Secrets

Request prompt:  

Garrick and Reader are in a long-term relationship and have a fight about something and when she wants to reconcile, she overhears him say something that drives them further apart? Just some angsty, angsty stuff? I'll leave it up to you if it’s a happy end  ;)

Synopsis: You are Xaden Riorson’s younger sister. You had survived your parents' rebellion with Xaden and Garrick and your cousin Bodhi by your side. With the years leading up after the rebellion and to when you’d each have to start at Basgiath War College. You and Garrick had become more than the close friends you were. You had been fostered away from your brother and Liam and in the same foster home as Garrick. You both were the only rebel child in the foster household you were put in. Garrick took it under his responsibility to care for you and protect you with being placed so far away from everyone else; you and Garrick had quickly fallen in love with each other. Foster siblings or not you two didn’t care as you had feelings for each other before these dreaded times. You and Garrick had cherished every moment together from when you were You and Garrick also had not cared that your foster parents kept reminding you that you were only 15 and Garrick was 17. You both spent every day basking in each other’s young love, finally out of the view of your older brother to do as you two had wished as soon as you were old enough to have an inappropriate thought about Garrick cloud your mind. You both had spent every waking moment and sleeping moment with each other after being placed in the foster home until the dreaded day had come for Garrick and Xaden to start at Basgiath. 

Word Count: 6266. I got a little carried away here! But it is split into sections by a timeline frommate.

Trigger Warnings: suggestive NSFW but not full scenes, panic attacks, nightmares, distrust, tissues on standby, prolonged months of not talking to S.O, and family members. Mentions of death.  I think that's it! 

*July 2nd 627 A.U.*

                          Y /N POV

     You stirred waking in your new bedroom in Lewellen. Yesterday was supposed to be your 15th birthday but instead it had turned into a living hell. You moved your arms to the other side of the bed where Garrick Tavis had fallen asleep holding you in his arms after the turmoil of events that occurred yesterday. You sighed at the coldness of the mattress that was left behind and you let the events of yesterday race in mind. You, your older brother Xaden, your cousin Bodhi Durran as well as Garrick and all the other children of the rebellion were forced to watch your parents be executed as their attempts at a rebellion that was led by your father failed. You had cried in Garrick’s arms as you watched your parents die. You had cried in his arms as your brother got whipped 107 times representing the children of the traitors of Navarre as a plea to save our lives. You were still crying when each one of you got separated into foster homes. Garrick and yourself were found to be in a foster home in Lewellen, which was far enough away from Trivanne which was far enough away from your brother and Liam to make visits almost nearly impossible. “Hey, you're awake.” Garrick had smiled softly as he came back with a tray and a few pastries. “How are you feeling, little one?” He asked softly to get back in bed with you as you laid his head on his shoulder. “Tired, upset, angry and maybe slightly confused.”

        Garrick hummed at your reply “I get it. I feel the same. I’m sorry that was a pretty shitty birthday.” “One I’d rather forget. Do you know if we are near any of the others?” “I overheard our foster parents talking and I don’t think so, at least not many of the older ones of us, maybe some of the younger children.” You cupped his cheek softly; “At least we have each other, and we can finally explore this; even if you are now my foster brother.” Garrick took your small hand into his much larger one and chuckled softly at the mention of you two now being foster siblings; “How about we start by actually celebrating your 15th birthday. Maybe a walk to take in our new surroundings and then maybe find a nice private spot to call our own.” “Gare Bear, that sounds amazing.” You said softly and took a bite of the raspberry scone he had brought in. “I wonder what our foster parents are going to think of getting the only rebellion teens in a relationship.” You had smirked and ran your fingers through his hair fixing a few unruly curls. Garrick had chuckled again and placed a soft kiss on your forehead. “If they have a problem with it, I’ll do everything I need to in order to protect you Y/N.” Which you had already known he already felt an overdrive of urgency to do as you were Fen Riorson’s youngest, who was the leader of the Tyrrish rebellion. 

   *March 629 A.U.*    

                            Y /N POV

       You were finally able to see your brother for the first time after the apostasy. 

  “You ready little one?” Garrick had asked as you had finished getting dressed. “I should be the one asking you Gary.” You teased and ran your hands along his arms and earned a low groan from his mouth. “You know how I feel about that one nickname Y/N.” He smirked. “I know my lover, but you finally get to tell my brother about us and the fact we have been dating for 8 months.” You teased rubbing your nose together. Garrick had groaned as there was a soft knock at your door. “Come in.” You had softly expected your foster parents as your brother and Liam were meant to arrive until later. “Xad!” You exclaimed excitedly and jumped into his arms. Your brother chuckled softly; “I missed you too, Y/N. I assume Gare has been taking good care of you?” “More than you want to know.” You smirked as your brother put you down to hug his best friend as you hugged the oldest Mairi son. It had been too long since you and Garrick had seen any of the others. “Something you need to tell me, Garrick.” Your brother said mockingly. Garrick smirked, wrapping his arm around your waist. “Ok, that’s enough said already.” Xaden groaned and added; “So you two become foster siblings and decide to hook up?” Xaden smirked. “Oh we had feelings well before that.” You teased running your hands through your brother's hair. “I think we have an 18th birthday that has passed that we need to celebrate.” You had stated quickly changing the topic. And with that is what the four of you had down for the next few days. You each had spent the nights out under the stars when your brother and Liam were here and you were glad you did because little did you know that would be the last time you saw your brother until you were due to cross the parapet yourself in 633 Au. 

      *July 631  A.U.*   

                              Y/N POV 

   “You can’t leave.” I mumbled through pursed lips into Garick’s chest. It had finally come to the time where Garrick and Xaden were the first of the rebellion children to enter the riders quadrant. That meant two years of being away from him completely. Two years of not knowing if he or your brother would be dead or alive when it came time for you and Liam to join the quadrant. Two years of you being alone in the bed that you had shared with a much larger male that engulfed your much larger smaller frame and kept you safe every night for the past four years. 

        You felt him place a soft kiss on your forehead. “They’ll go by faster than you think they will my little one.” He soothed as the tears finally streamed your face as you finally voiced your thoughts out loud. As you spoke your thoughts you felt his strong hand wipe your tears; “ Maybe for you but for me I have to worry about; two years of not knowing if you're alive or Xaden. Two years of not being able to fall asleep in your arms. Two years of-.” Garrick had cut you off “Hey ssssh. It’s going to be alright. I’m going to be worried about you two Y/N. In two years time you’ll be in my arms again and you’ll get to see Xaden, I promise.” He said softly as we heard aloud knock on the door, “Garrick! Time to leave!! It’s a four day trek!.” Your foster father had bellowed through the closed door. Tears still claiming your face you hung onto Garrick tighter. “Please don’t say the words.” You mumbled quietly; you had always hated goodbye; it was so permanent and everyone around you knew it. “It’s not goodbye, little one.” He said softly, squeezing you back just as tightly if not tighter.15 minutes had to have passed as Garrick had finished getting dressed and returned from the bathroom. “Everything is in your pack.” You had said softly reluctantly, handing it to him as you had sneaked a letter in there towards the bottom one for both him and Xaden. “Oh Y/N. Come here.” He said softly wrapping you in his arms as you wrapped your legs around his waist. “Tavis!” Your foster father now bellowed and knocked in the door. “Say goodbye to your foster sister and let's go, now!” Your foster parents had never approved of your and Garrick’s relationship, but that never stopped the both of you from falling madly in love with each other. Garrick rubbed soothing circles along your back, “Please don’t cry for me. If we can write, we will write as soon as possible, I promise. It’s not goodbye Y/N." "Garrick.! Let’s move it now. Being late to conscription day is not a good way to start your support for this country.” He bellowed full well knowing that was like a blow to the chest for both Garrick and I. 

       You softly traced his rebellion relic, your legs still wrapped around his waist. You felt Garrick start to move just as you were and he stopped as you had reached the porch and he sat you down on the chair outside; your foster father waiting by the carriage sternly. Garrick knelt down in front of you and intertwined your fingers and lifted them up and placed a soft kiss on your hands. Until next to my little one.” He said softly and pushed back a few of your stary bangs along your forehead. Somehow you managed to mumble out an “I love you. I love you both; both you and Xadn.” “I know he said softly; I’ll remind him and I love you Y/N, so much your my everything. Promise me that one day when we are able to, you'll accept my hand in marriage?” He asked softly, pulling a box from his pocket. “There’s nothing more that I would ever want in this world. Just promise me I’ll have your arms to jump into in two years. 

    Garrick smiled softly; that soft smile that you loved so much as he slipped the ring on your finger; “I promise. That is if our foster Father doesn’t kill me first.” You sighed’

“I love you. Always Gare.” He squeezed your hand one last time while standing up and placed a soft kiss on your forehead as you felt his warm hands leave your smaller ones. “Always my little one.” He whispered as you watched him turn and walk away from you. 

                        * July 633  A.U.*   

                           Y/N POV

  You had woken up a few days prior before your start at Basgiath War College the same way Garrick had two years ago. “Y/N.” Your foster Father had knocked on your door loudly, “Time to leave now! Although I suppose you’ll move your ass faster than that boy did as you’ll get to see him if he's still alive.” You had groaned getting out of bed that morning. You thankfully had known that Garrick and Xaden were both still alive thanks to the letters they were finally able to send last year.

  The few day's journey you had taken you and your foster Father to get to Basgiath was the longest few days of your life. You had signed in at the main gate and departed from your foster Father. Your main goal was one: to find Liam before you both had to cross a death bridge called the parapet and two: finally see Garrick, Xaden and Bodhi again. You hadn’t cared about the snide remarks you had gotten about your rebellion relic as you were focused on finding Liam. “Marked Bastard.” or “Traitor’s kid.” Were two of the most common remarks you heard. But as you spotted a blonde haired boy a few feet away with his rebellion relics down his arm none of that mattered anymore. You tapped his shoulder and both of you embraced each other in a hug before crossing the parapet. 

                                                    Garrick’s POV

     I looked down the list of names as each cadet that had crossed gave them to Xaden. One glance down to the see of potential cadets to see who was next in line made my heart stop. “Get ready for the next one, Riorson.” I said to Xaden a catch in my voice purely prominent. “Name.” Xaden had said to the cadet that stood before us even though we both knew it clearly. “Y/N Riorson.” she said calmly, to calm for someone that was about to cross this death trap but I knew she was trying to keep her composure and not show affection towards either of us right now. “Go ahead.” Xaden said coolly and nodded his head behind us. I couldn’t help but whisper “Small steps, It’s slick with the rain. I love you.” I said as quietly as possible as I felt her fingers brush mine lightly.                                                                

                                                         Y/N POV

  You had already been reunited with your cousin and Imogen and with stood formation before you even had the chance to see Garrick or your brother. You were making your way to the dinning hall as you felt a tug on your arm pulling you around the corner, it took everything in you not to gasp at the contact as you knew who was grabbing you already and pulling you into their chest. “Gods I’ve missed you.” Garrick said softly, pulling you in tighly. “I missed you too, so much more than you could ever know.” “You're ok?” he asked with concern heavily in his voice as he stepped back to get a good luck at you and ran his hands up and down your arms. “I’m fine, Gare. Promise.” You said softly. “Gods I love you.” He said soothingly pulling you into one more tight against him one more time. “I love you too, Gare.” You had said soothingly as you held each other tightly. “Listen, love, I know it’s going to be hard but we can’t publicly display our affection towards each other. At least not until Threshing. It’s for your own safety, little one.” You nod into his chest not trusting your voice in the moment. “I don’t need other cadets, especially older cadets thinking you're trying to sleep your way to safety by dating a squad leader. You already have a target on your back for being a marked one and another for being Xaden’s younger sister.” “Will get through it Gare, I’m just glad to have you again baby.” You said softly into his chest.

                   * September 633 A.U.*  

                            Y/N POV 

   One month until Threshing.  “Anyone have any questions?” Xaden asked as you met up with the rest of the current rebels at Basgiath under a tree late at night. “Physics.” One girl had said quietly one you had never met personally until this year that had also started with you and Liam as you had sat on the ground sitting on Garrick’s lap. At least these meetings of your brother’s was one place you and Garrick could show affection towards each other. “Seriously, I feel you. I don’t even know what physics has to do with dragon riding anyways.” You said with a giggle as Garrick nibbled  your ear “You doing fine with our study sessions little one.” “Legit study sessions?” Bodhi smirked. “Oh shut it Durran.” You had teased turning to look over Garrick’s shoulder. “Everything good Y/N?” He asked. You shook your head “Yeah, I just thought I had heard a noise is all.” “Physics is easy and the least  of our problems. We can start having actual study sessions.” Your brother said glaring towards you and Garrick. “Anything else?” “Yeah Sorrengail.” Imogen sneered to your right. “I told you Cardulo she’s mine to handle.” “Imogen and I could do a better job, brother.”  you smirked as Garrick chuckled. “Enough from all of you. She is mine to handle.” He said as you and Imogen both groaned. “If there’s nothing else suppressing tonight, I think that’s it.” Xaden said dismissing you all. As you stood you turned your head trying to take in all of your surroundings as most of the others had left you, Xad, Bodhi and Garrick. “Little one?” Garrick asked. “I just thought I saw movement on the branch, but it’s probably just an animal.” The boys nodded in agreement and Xaden had stated he wanted to walk back by himself and over time all of you had learned not to question your brother. 

                   * November 633 A.U.*   

                                  Y/N POV 

  Threshing had come and gone and you were now bonded to a green daggertail named Carieann who happened to be of the sme line as Cruir who was bonded to your cousin Bodhi. You were getting used to having Carie in your mind almost 24/7. Now that you were bonded you had your own room like the other bonded first years but spent most nights in Garrick’s room still anyways. His bed was just bigger and comfier for the both of you. Your signet had also manifested and you were the first in your year to join Carr’s class. Air. Carieann had said to you when you first knocked everything off the desk in Garrick’s room without being near your desk during your morning sex one day. You can manipulate, good job little one.  She said softly; which Carrieann you had found had a soft demeanor for a dragon. 

    You groaned when you felt a cold spot in your bed where Garrick should have been. You could faintly hear a soft argument coming through the walls to the room that was attached to Garrick’s, but you couldn’t make out anything the two males were saying. You grumbled pullin on your black robe as you walked across the hall and knocked on your brother’s door; you could hear the two males instantly shut up upon doing so. “Y/N, come in.” Xaden said as he opened the door. “And what were my brother and boyfriend arguing about, at this ungodly hour in the morning?” You mumbled through a yawn, wrapping yourself around Garrick’s waist from the side. “We weren’t arguing.” Xaded stated flatly. “I could clearly hear both of you across the hall. Also you’ve always been a terrible liar Xay.” “You caught us love, we were arguing.” Gare had said and placed a kiss on the top of your head; “I’m sorry we woke you up.” He said softly. 

    “What were you arguing about? It was about me wasn't it?” “Don’t be silly. It wasn’t about you. It was about mine and Sorrenail’s issue.” Xaden had said softly as Garrick scoffed. “Right, the Sorrengail issue. Something tells me that wasn’t it this time.” “It’s nothing for you to worry about. Just some third year stuff.”  Garrick had scoffed again. “Alright fine, I’ll drop it. I get it.” You had groaned. “Come little one, let's get dressed for classes.” Garrick said and guided you out of your brother’s room; not without a snide glare back towards your brother. You could have sworn you felt your brother’s shadows brush your wrist softly as you and Garrick had left. 

   *Winter Solstice 633  A.U.*   

                              Y/N POV 

   Winter Solstice used to be one of your favorite holidays. However that was until you had noticed your boyfriend and brother were absent from the activities.In fact you had noticed they were absent from everything all day now that you had thought about it. “Bodhi.” “Hmmm.” Your cousin hummed in reply, not looking up from the game of chess he was playing with Liam. “Where the hell are Xaden and Garrick?” “I’m not sure what you mean, Y/N.” You sighed heavily as you were sitting in a common room and enjoying the fire, or more like trying to. “You sure as hell do Durran and you know it. Why they hell have they been acting so weird lately?”   

 “No ones been acting weird lately.” Xaden said as he and Garrick sat on the couch next to you. Instead of cuddling into Garrick’s side like you had wanted to, you stood up. “Yes you have both of you have even Durran.” You said sternly pointing a finger at each of them as you directed your voice towards them. “Y/N, sweetheart calm down.” Garrick said softly standing up, but you pushed him back down. “No you don’t get to sweetheart me. Not right now.” “You’ve all been hiding something from me and I demand it right now.” At that you had gotten both boys to sighed heavily; you had even gotten a sigh out of Bodhi. “Where the hell were you two today?” Garrick sighed and glanced towards Xaden. “We were-” “No.” You're brother had cut him off with a sharp tone. “She'll when the time is right.” “I knew you had been hiding something. '' I said, voice sharp and fists clenched. Little one.” Garrick had said softly and pulled you into a calming embrace before your anxiety attack had a chance to spiral. “Breathe.” he said softly rubbing soft circles along your back.

   Several months had passed and it was now mid February and it seemed like Garrick, Xaden and Bodhi were gone more frequently and you were about to reach your wits end with all of them. You sighed heavily sitting down to breakfast with Imogen and the others. “What's up your ass?” Imogen asked from across the table. “I just feel like the boys are hiding more than what they’re letting on about.” “Come on Y/N/N, Garrick’s your boyfriend, Xaden is your brother, and Bodhi is your cousin. Do you really think those three are hiding anything from you?” “Yeah Imogen I do. They’ve been coming back at all certain points when they do go wherever the hell they go. Hell sometimes Garrick isn’t even back in bed until the next morning, a few hours before we have to get up from classes.” “Relax, Riorson.” Liam said. “Relax?” I snapped. “I’m tired of hearing that word from anyone from Carrieann from Xaden from Garrick.  Breathe, Liam did nothing he's just trying to understand. Carrieann chimed in your mind. You sighed. “I’m sorry, Li.” You had said softly. “It’s just each time I even ask about what's going on Garrick is all ready to tell me and Xaden just cuts me off and says when the time is right.” “I’ve tyred asking about them and I get the same response.” Violet said to you in an understanding.  “I’m just going to get ready for class.” You said take your barely half eaten breakfast to the trash. 

     You had decided to take the long way back to the dorms when you paused and heard bickering male voices you knew all too well. You paused in your steps you could have sworn you heard your brother say Aretia and Rebellion.  You stormed around the corner; “Good Morning boys. Nice of you to finally come back to the quadrant.”  You snapped towards the three of them. “Sweetheart.” Garrick said softly. “No.” You had snapped; “I’m done. I’m done with these secrets. I demand to know what's going on.” “We’ve only kept this quiet to protect you and the others from back home.” Xaden started to say softly. “In our first year here we decided to help rebuild our home. We also decided to smuggle weapons out of Basgiath to help aid the gryphon fliers.” Garrick said, reaching for your wrist as you pulled away. “And you decided to keep that from each of us since you’ve started? That you’ve been going home and rebuilding our childhood home?” You stammered. “Y/N/N.” Xaden said softly. “I’m sorry.” Garrick said softly trying to reach for you again but at this point you had backed yourself away from them and backed closer into the opposite wall. “If you're sorry then let me help, let the others help.” Your brother gave you a solemn look that you knew all too well. “It’s too dangerous, Y/N/N. '' Xaden said. You shook your head and started to hold the tears that were brimming your eyes. “Little one.” Garrick said softly trying to stop closer to you. Your cousin is a silent specter in all of this. “I can’t do this anymore, not right now. I need a break from all of you.” “Y/N/N, please.” Garrick said softly hurt clearly on his face just as much as yours.  

     “Let me know when you boys have rethought your decision.” You stammered out barely keeping your composure together. That night you had gone to your own room for the first time since it had been assigned to you as yours. You climbed into the cold bed and tried to get comfortable without Garrick by your side. Half of you, more than half of you was screaming to go up the stairs and climb into his bed and into his arms. You had spent basically every night in that man’s arms since you started dating besides the two years you were separated. I know this is hard but I’m proud of you for standing your ground;  Y/N.  Carrieann chimed in your head softly. Rest you will need it, I’ll keep you safe.  So you can be sweet, Good night Carrieann. You teased back at your dragon down your bond. 

              *July 1st- July 8th 634 A.U.* 

Y/N POV

    It was now the month of July and being a cadet at Basgiath War College July meant several things. Reunification day which was today, war games and graduation. Graduation meant you and Garrick would be separated again, that is if you were ever talking again; as July also meant it had been almost four whole months since you have given the boys the ultimatum. The only one you had really talked to besides Liam and Imogen as Bodhi as you knew your cousin was mainly the innocent bystander in Garrick and Xaden’s schemes. July also meant that each squad would participate in war games before graduation. 

       The day was long and drawing out as you prepared for the evening. You were only going to the evenings events to support Liam who was crowned the body guard of Violet several months ago. When you reached the courtyard you stationed yourself on a bench as secluded as you could be. “I didn’t expect to see you here, Riorson.” Dain said softly sitting down next to you. You sniffled pushing back the tears that were threatening to escape at the thoughts in the back of your mind. “I’m just here so Liam isn’t alone.” “I see. So are you going to talk to your boyfriend and brother anytime soon again?” “I don’t know. They held some big lies that I’m still not completely over and they also haven’t accepted their ultimatum.” You sniffled. “Hey it’s ok.” Dain said softly placing a hand on the small of your back as the fireworks ended and symbolized the ending of the event.

     “Can I walk you back to your room?” Dain asked genuinely to help you stand, you nod softly. “I’d like that, please.” “Of course. Long way or short?” He asked, wrapping his arm around the middle of your waist. “Long.” You had responded in hopes you wouldn’t pass that many other cadets as you weren’t in the mood for much conversaton. As you and Dain had passed around the corner to the first floor dorms you felt a hand softly grab your wrist and watched Garrick step out of the shadows. You watched as he took in the sight of Dain’s arm around your waist. “Can we talk?” Garrick asked, his voice weavering on the verge of confiedence. “That depends if you and Xaden are ready to let me help.” “Y/N/N.” Garrick said in a mild tone and that was all you needed to know for an answer; “Goodnight, Tavis.” You said flatly turning towards your room hiding the tears threatening your face; Dain’s hand still placed softly on your back as reassurance as you unlocked your door. “Are you settled for the night?” He asked as he gave you once over. You nodded; “Yeah, I’m just gonna grab my things and head to the shower rooms and freshen up before trying to sleep.” “I don’t know whatever it is that they are not letting you be a part of but if you ever need anyone.” He said in a less than confident voice, hand resting on the back of his neck. “Thanks, Dain. It’s definitely complicated. I’m sure they’ll come around. If they don’t-” I paused the tears threatening again at the complete chance of losing both your love of your life and your brother.” Dain nodded in a content agreement and gave you one more hug before you both had said goodnight. 

     You had felt a rushed knock at your door and groaned to Dain at the other end. “What's going on?” You mumbled sleepily. “War games. We need to meet in our squad and split into teams. Flight field on 15.” You grumbled gathering your bag and. Carrieann.  You asked down your bond. I’m ready, so are the others. She said calmly, almost too calm for what was about to happen as you meet up with the rest of the squad; Xaden and Dain are already bickering about teams. “Hey Riorson.” Ridoc said happily, slapping an arm around your back, “You look like shit.” “Gee thanks Gamlyn.” “Anytime.” He smirked as you and Garrick locked eyes with each other. A hint of remorse could almost be seen from him. “Y/N.” He said walking over to you. “Now really isn’t the best time for us to have this conversation, Garrick.” “Marked ones with me and everyone else with Aetos.”  as you were both cut off by your brother stepping into place as you heard Violet protesting to go with us. You stepped forward, “It’s fine Violet and I can switch that way Tairn and Sgaeyl can be together if something happens.” Garrick tried reaching for you as you went to switch out with Violet but you just shrugged him off. Dain handed you the flag he was holding as if it was a silent action to solidify your spot on this side of your team. However even though you weren’t going to admit you were a little pained that you weren’t going to face whatever was ahead with the rest of the marked ones; your forever family. “Alright everyone knows what to do.” Xaden said in his wingleader voice and through a soft gaze towards you as he said “Fly out.” You mounted Carrieann as the group mounted their dragons. I know this is tough I'm proud of you. She said to you softly. 

              *July  6th 634 A.U.*  

                               Y/N POV  

        It had been almost three whole days since the other team should have been back. The other team consisted of your friends, your cousin, your brother, your boyfriend. You sighed, taking your seat between Rhiannon and Ridoc during battle brief that morning. “You ok Riorson.” Ridoc asked “They should be back. They were supposed to be back by now.” You had felt a pang of guilt with how things were between you, Xaden and Garrick when war games started. You were now certain it would only be days until you heard all their names on the morning death roll; knowing that you had been arguing for months before they left had taken a sudden toll in the past few days and your friends have noticed.  “It’s all going to be ok.” Ridoc said softly and placed a reassuring hand on your knee. “Garrick and Xaden and I haven’t even been talking, Carrieann can’t reach any of their dragons and yet here we are continuing classes as if everything is supposed to be normal.” You stammered as your breathing was getting heavy as Professor Devera started the lesson as you bolted from your seat as you felt another panic attack starting to consume you. “Riorson; where are you going?” The professor directed towards me. “I can’t.” You had managed to stammer out as you could very faintly hear Dain apologizing for the both of you as he followed you out into the hall. “Breathe, It’s ok, just Breathe; Y/N/n.” He said soothingly, running his hands along your arms as he had down several times in the past days. 

        Carrieann would often alert Cath in the middle of the night if you had a panic attack or nightmare after the end of war games.”How is everything supposed to be normal when half of our squad is still missing. Half of our squad that is my family.” “I know, I know this is tough, but I promise you they are going to be ok.” He said softly as he had several other times this week. “How I’m I supposed to live with myself if this is how it ends?” “They both know you love them. You were standing up for yourself.” “I can’t go back to class.” “I know.” Dain soothed as your breathing started to come back to normal. “A walk in the courtyard for some fresh air?” You nodded as you knew he was the only one who could even feel close to how you were feeling because of Violet. 

      You sighed heavily in all defeat with none of the being back yet as you woke up on what was supposed to be Xaden and Garrick’s graduation day. Dain stirred beside you as he refused to leave after you had finally calmed down after your nightmare last night; which had been the worst one you had yet. “Are you ok if I go back upstairs and get dressed and ready for formation? You nod slightly; “Yeah I’ll be fine and hey Dain?” “Yeah?” He asked, tossing his black t-shirt back on. “Thank you again, especially for refusing to leave.” “Of course.” He said softly and placed a soft hand on your shoulder before he left.

*July  11th 634 A.U.*  

Y/N

Guilt was  riding all over you as you joined your squad sitting next to day during morning formation. You laid your head down on his shoulder keeping your tears at bay as you weren’t prepared for this morning's death roll. “Good morning cadets.” Captain Fitzgibbons said as he took his place on the dias. July 11th, 634 Au; Imogen Cardulo, and there it was you thought the first set of tears threatening to escape as the captain began reading your friends names; Bodhi Durran; your heart now sank as he said your cousins name; Liam Mairi, and there it was the first tear to fall from your face onto Dain’s shoulder as he placed a soft hand on your back followed by Sawyer following Dain’s movement; Violet Sorrengail, the captain continued to read; Garrick Tavis, and there it was one of the names that sent you spiraling into an ocean of tears; Xadan Riorson-. “Well this is rather awkward.” Your heart skipped a million voices. It had been almost two weeks. Was your mind playing tricks on you? You nervously lifted up your head from Dain’s shoulder; tears streaming down your face. But sure enough there stood your brother and Garrick and everyone else the one person missing was Liam. You had locked eyes with Garrick as you heard the captain say: 

  “I don’t understand,” Fitzgibbons says to the two scribes behind him, then addresses Panchek. “They aren’t dead. Why would they have been reported for the death roll?”   

     You steadily hold your gaze with Garrick tears still streaming down your face as he steadily holds his gaze with yours. There was nothing more that you wanted to break formation and jump into the arms of the man you loved. You needed to feel him to know he was really there to know that Liam was unfortunately the only one to really be gone. But you know you couldn't, you knew you had to wait until Violet and your brother were done pleading their story and waiting for the council's approval. If they didn’t approve,- well you didn’t even want to think of the possibilities or even actual death your friends would endure.   

     Finally after what seemed like hours, formation hand ended and their story was believed and riders were frantically making their own decisions about what they had just heard and what choice they wanted to make. You could care less about that as you and Garrick were each trying to move through the sea of cadets to get to each other; your brother and everyone else close behind him. “Little one, my little one.” Garrick said softly wrapping his arms around your waist both of you with tears falling down your face. “I’m so sorry.” You managed to mumbled into Garrick’s chest as you felt your brother place a reassuring hand on your back. “You don’t have to apologize. We are the ones that need to apologize. I should have let you help but you are my little sister and keeping you safe is my number priority.Your hands left Garrick’s back and found themselves on your brothers. “I almost lost you, I almost lost both of you.” You said quietly one arm reaching out for Garrick as well. “I love you both, I love you both so much. Just don’t be dicks and let me help next time.” This had earned a chuckle from both of the boys as Garrick pulled you away from your brother and fully back into his arms as you wrapped your legs around his waist. 

    “I shouldn’t be worried about Aetos should I?” He asked through a chuckle. You shook your head which was buried into the crock of his neck as you took in his familiar scent. I raised up your head to look at the love of your life and take in his hazel eyes and pushed a loose curl back into place.“I love you and only you. You're mine and I’m yours. Always and forever.” You said softly and rested your foreheads together as Garrick repeated “I love you and only you. You're mine and I’m yours. Always and forever.” “Oh please gag me.” Imogen chidded from behind both of you, which had earned a soft chuckle from everyone nearby.

A/N: This was my first request! I hope I did it justice and that you enjoyed it whoever the anon was! Thank you again for sending it to my inbox. I’m always taking requests!

[blueraineshadows]

I would like to request a fic of f*MC, who is an unspeakable, and Sebastian Sallow, who is an auror, as husband and wife. They were on an intense mission together and they almost died. The moment they apparate home they still feel the intensity of what happened and they immediately start kissing each other and end up having “end of the world” type sex.

I hope you like te request and I can’t wait what you do with it!

Thank you for this Ask 💜 I hope this alright 👍

Sebastian Sallow x F!MC 🔥🌶 NSFW - violence and smut

Years of practise meant that Sebastian was one with the shadows, moving quickly and quietly, eyes alert and wand ready. He paused, eyes adjusting in the dark as he peered around a pillar of ancient stone. A fire pit danced in the darkness and the shadows of moving figures bent crazily across the stone wall.

Dressed all in black, the collar of his Auror coat pulled up to his chin, Sebastian waited, his ears pricking up at the sound of low voices. The men guarding the entrance had been nothing but foot soldiers, the muscle, and Sebastian had taken them down easily enough. Now, he was near the inner chamber of this research den, and the wizards here had hearts blacker than coal.

He turned his gaze to the far side of the room, a faint shimmer catching his eye. He watched as it warped in an out, moving carefully towards the corridor where he was hidden. When it came to a pause beside him, ducking behind the opposite pillar, the shimmer flickered into a solid shape.

Also dressed in black, her hair pulled back from her face revealing the mouth watering curve of her jaw, was MC. Despite the situation, he could not help but take a beat to appreciate the woman beside him. She had been at his side since they were 15, and he couldn't imagine her not being there now. Impossible.

Her eyes moved to him, fire pit flames glittering in their shadowed depths. He caught the flash of her smile and it still had the power to make his stomach flutter. He raised a questioning eyebrow to her, his wife, his partner, his everything.

She nodded. Her inspection of the north passage had been a success. The relic was here, which meant that the wizards the Auror office were hunting would most likely be here too. Good. He was ready for a fight.

They took out the first two quietly, the bodies slumping to the floor, but then the real fun began. Spells seared through the dimly lit room, the sparks dancing around the shadows of flickering flames. Husband and wife duelled as if in a dance, their movements fluid and a complement to each other's bodies.

Room clear, they took the north passage and ran with light steps, crouching near the entrance to the relic atrium. Sebastian's blood was up, his breath fast and shallow. MC was coiled like a spring, but she was more patient, monitoring the situation. That relic was her main interest here, not the fight. As an Unspeakable, research was paramount, and that relic had been on her most wanted list for months. They could not afford to fuck this up.

So, when Sebastian ran in, wand poised and spells flying. MC had to grit her teeth at her husband's recklessness. Some things never changed.

The head of operations here was a tall, smartly dressed man, well spoken, and Wanted in ten countries. To deliver him to the Ministry would be a career highlight. To see him floating midair and bound with chains was very satisfying. Sebastian stood admiring his work as MC took down the last of his lackeys.

Their captured prize began to chuckle, a dark, rumbling sound that drew Sebastian's brows together in irritation. MC approached the relic, careful, intrigued. Sebastian glanced between his prisoner and his wife, realisation setting in almost a beat too late.

He reached out a hand towards her, a shout on his lips, as a ear shattering crack split the air. MC was blown back away from the relic with a blinding flash of light. She didn't even make a sound as her body flew up and back, her arms flailing out.

Fear like never before seized Sebastian, and all the while, the prisoner cackled in manic laughter. Sebastian moved fast, a flick of his wand shot his spell out, capturing MC and slowing her down, but not enough to stop her hitting the far wall. She slid down to the floor, slumping there, unmoving.

Prisoner forgotten, he ran to her, sliding to his knees before scooping her up, checking her vital signs. With his hands pressed to her throat to check for a pulse, a searing pain sliced across his back. He turned, pain screaming through him.

His prisoner had snapped his chains and had his wand poised. Sebastian narrowed his eyes. Revenge would be sweet when it came, but for now, he had other priorities. Scooping up MC, he drew on the last of his strength and Apparated them both out of there.

....*....

The first pale fingers of dawn were creeping across the sky when MC finally opened her eyes. She winced, muscles stiff, and glanced around the familiar bedroom. Beside her on the bed were the remains of healing Potions, cloths stained with blood and what looked like Dittany paste. She sat up, blinking drowsily, and then stilled.

Sebastian was sitting on the chair at the dressing table, his body slumped forward, arms dangling loosely at his sides. She couldn't see his face, it was turned away from her, but his back made her gape in horror.

His flesh was sliced as though ravaged by claws, the skin puckered up into thick red wounds, the blood trails dark against his paleness. She scrambled across the bed, her feet hitting the floor with a thud, a dizzy spell sent her staggering, but she stumbled towards him anyway. Gripping his shoulder, she shook him, hard. "Sebastian!"

Nothing. Panic made her throat tight. "Fuck, fuck, no," she rasped. She saw more evidence of attempts to heal and felt tears sting her eyes. He had tried to help himself, and no doubt had tried to help her first, it was him all over. She moved around him, hands on his head to look at his face. He was grey, his lips even paler. "Sebastian, wake up, it's me. Please!"

Her fingers fumbled as she found Wiggenweld, and tipped it down his throat. Nothing. She tried other potions, the salve and a basic healing charm. Still the wounds refused to close. The limp, pale look of him made fear snap at her insides, but she wasn't going to give up. Not on him. Never.

She took her wand, and dug deep, fighting her own dizzying trembles to draw on her Ancient Magic. She slowly sealed the wounds on his back, the flickering blue and white tendrils knitting his flesh. Then she pulled him from the chair, laying him as gently as she could manage on the floor, before placing her palms on his chest.

"Please," she begged. Her cheeks were damp with tears she hadn't even noticed. "Don't you dare fucking leave me."

She closed her eyes and channeled the magic through her palms. The glow of her magic warmed his chilly flesh, the swirls like delicate smoke strands coiling intricately around her hands before seeping into him. In her mind she let memories flood outwards, swirling moments of laughter, soft touches, the feel of his lips, the day he asked her to be his wife. She imagined their clasped hands, their bodies entwined in rumpled sheets, the energy and magnetism of fighting by his side.

"Come back to me," she whispered. "Sebastian, come back."

With a cry of relief, she felt his chest heave beneath her hands. His lips sucked in a breath and his eyes opened wide. He looked up at her, gasping. "What happened?" He croaked.

....*....

They sat at the kitchen table nursing cups of tea, the remains of breakfast on the table around them. They had eaten in silence, both of them shaken and processing. The fear of what might have been hovering behind their shoulders with cold teeth, refusing to let them forget.

MC pulled her cardigan closer around her, fighting a shiver. She felt his gaze and looked up. There was colour in his cheeks now. He looked like her Sebastian. "What?" She whispered.

"I thought you were dead," he said. The words seemed to catch in his throat and he had to look down.

She swallowed. The words hit her hard. She remembered how he had looked when she had found him. There were no words to describe the hollow, black hole of fear and loss that had threatened to swallow her at that sight.

"We fucked up," she said. She put her palms to her forehead and leant on the table. "We lost the relic, we lost him, and we nearly lost our lives. What the fuck happened?"

"What's that supposed to mean?" He asked.

MC looked at him, her fear was still there, mocking her and she smothered it with anger. She shoved her chair back from the table and stood, turning to begin pacing their little kitchen. "Why do you always have to be so reckless? You went storming into that room, as per usual, and then everything was fucked up."

"So, this is all my fault?" He gaped. He made a fist against the table top. "If you weren't so obsessed with that fucking relic, maybe you would have taken the time to notice the charms placed around it!"

"It's a bit rich to be preaching to me about obsessing over relics," she snapped back. She pushed a hand through her hair. "You can be such a hypocrite sometimes."

He shot out of his chair and made a grab for her. His hand gripped her arm and he definitely had his strength back. "You're really going to go there?"

MC looked up at him, stared into those eyes that she knew so well. Eyes that had nearly closed on her forever. Her anger evaporated, and all that was left was her fear and her pain. She shook her head. "I thought I had lost you," she gasped. Tears sprang up into her eyes. "You were fucking dead, Sebastian! I had to bring you back, because...because none of it is worth it if you're gone. None of it."

His throat worked as he stared back at her, his grip on her arm tightened.

"Don't make me ever see you like that again," she said. "I can't..."

His arms swallowed her up and crushed her against his chest. She clung to him as though he would vanish if she ever let go. "I'm not going anywhere," he promised, firmly. "Not without you."

His mouth pressed kisses into her hair, over her forehead and down to her ear. She lifted her face to him and he claimed her mouth, his kiss a demand and a promise. She gripped his shirt, tugging at the material, pulling at the buttons desperately until they gave way. They pinged free, spinning across the room to clatter across the floor. She needed to feel his skin, his warmth. Feel him alive under her hands.

His hunger for her burned as fiercely, he rid her of her cardigan and blouse, hands seeking out her soft curves. He lifted her, perching her on the edge of the table, cups and plates shoved messily out of the way. Cutlery clattered to the floor.

His mouth tortured the skin of her neck, sucking the soft skin into blooming bruises, proof that her heart beat for him, she was alive. There was nothing gentle about their movements, it was a primal need to join, an instinct. Her legs wrapped around him, possessive, needy and his fingers sought out her searing heat.

MC's head dipped back, a low moan drawn from her lips as he stroked and teased, shifting to press his arousal against her ready folds. She braced her arms against the table behind her, back arched, giving him a glorious view of her breasts. He swirled a tongue over one hardened peak and thrust deeply into her.

Sebastian had fucked his wife many times, but this time there was something deeper, a rawness to it that shook him to the core. His fingers dug into her hips, gripping her as he thrust harder and faster, watching her breasts bounce with his relentless rhythm. The sounds that tore from her lips drove him wild, the sheen of sweat forming on her chest made him want to press the flat of his tongue against it and drown in her scent.

The table shuddered beneath them, the legs scraping against the floor, dishes rattled and still he pressed. She reached out a hand, pressing the palm to his chest, her cheeks were flooded with beautiful colour. She looked alive, beautiful.

The tone of her cries shifted, he could see the flush of warmth spreading across her skin, the subtle tightening around his cock. He rolled his hips, hitting that little sweet spot, his lips parted as he watched her come undone, a string of saliva hanging from his lip.

He looked down at his cock sliding into her, the slick pulsing to coat him with shiny wetness. With a deep groan of release he buried himself inside her heat, his cock pulsing almost painfully, his breath a hot gasp through his lips.

MC sat up, her arms circling his neck, pulling him closer. He buried his face into her hair, savouring the sound of her breathing, the warmth of her embrace and the rapid beat of her precious heart.

Losing her would be the end of his world, and knowing that she felt the same was more precious, more sacred, than any relic or career-making arrest.

[bettyfrommars]

Stop the World and Melt with You//Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

✨One minute, you're bawling your eyes out in 2023, and the next thing you know--you're at a gas station with guy named Eddie, in a town that feels stuck in the 80's. The thought of traveling back in time hasn't occurred to you yet; maybe because it's way more than that.

Series Masterlist

✨Based in an alternative universe, I think the only triggers are that reader is terribly sad in the beginning and is having a hard time remembering things. Slow build. Mention of dad passing away. Word count: 2.9k

A/N: I'm not sure if I will turn this into a series, or if it will stay as a little weird piece floating in the ether 💕 (update: link to part 2 above)

----------

So, there you are, crying in your truck. Not that pretty kind of sniffling where a single tear runs down your cheek and your eyes glisten, but massive, snotty, choking sobs. Gasping, wailing, shoulders bouncing, wringing your hands on the steering wheel. You were crying so hard, you missed your exit. At least, you must have, because the exit numbers jumped from 12 to 14 in the time it took for you to wipe your eyes, mascara stinging, your throat raw. The song playing is full of hopeful love (Melt with You by Modern English) and you scream at the radio like a banshee, scrambling to turn it off.

You slow down and get over to the furthest lane, hands at 10 and 2, eyes squinting, ready to take that exit 15 to Empress Landing Road that your GPS keeps squawking about. The rain is coming down in sheets now, mirroring the tears that have run down your neck and soaked the collar of your gray sweatshirt. You approach the bend and take the exit, winding your way around to a two-way stop sign, and that’s when you lose all of the bars on your phone and a flat message cross the screen says: NO SIGNAL.

“What the hell,” you mutter to yourself, making sure no one is behind you before you reach over to grab your phone and bring it to your face for a closer look. No cell service and no wifi; perfect. Just what you were hoping for on this day of our lord, the worst day of your life. Not the actual worst, but close: when you lost your dad six months ago to cancer, that was the worst. It would all be a walk in the park from there for the rest of your life as far as bad days went.

You keep waiting for your phone to find it’s way back to the network, but you drive a couple miles and still nothing. The windshield wipers are flapping, and your head is throbbing to the beat. It doesn’t make you feel any better to look down and realize you’re almost out of gas and are about two minutes from coasting on Empty. You’ve got seven dollars in your wallet, but then there’s a couple hundred in your checking, and also the emergency credit card with an impressive $500 limit. All of that needs to be stretched out for another week until next payday.

Coming up on your left, you see a sign for “Gary’s Garage” right next to a double garage mechanics shop and a two pump gas station. You’re not sure if you have the luxury of pricing gallons of gas right now, with the way you’re about to be stuck on the side of the road, but out of habit, you check the prices on the sign anyway.

Wait...you try to focus your eyes, thinking maybe you’re seeing things, or perhaps one of the numbers on the sign had fallen off. There is no way gas is 5.7 cents a gallon, that’s insane. You figure maybe someone just put and extra zero in the front, so you hit your blinker and pull over your old truck bouncing down through a large puddle.

The rain shower lets up, thankfully, because there is no awning over where you need to pump your gas. You get out and pause at how old the gas tanks are. Nothing digital, all black and white flip numbers like on those old alarm clocks, and no where to pay outside. After looking at both of the tanks and scratching your head for a good minute or so, you turn to go inside when you see someone walking over from the garage.

He’s about your age, wearing dark gray coveralls that match the color of the overcast sky, long, curly dark hair tied back in a ponytail, and a blue banana on his head. He’s wiping is hands on a rag as his eyes widen at you, getting closer, close enough for you to see that his lips are soft and full, and his eyes are dark but kind.

“This way, follow me,” He tells you, motioning with a twitch of his head, cleaning down between the webs of his fingers as he goes.

You do as he says, in through the glass doors to a small space with two vending machines and a desk with an old fashioned cash register. You notice that the soda machine offers the drink TAB, which is a diet drink you haven’t seen around since you were just a kid. On the window sill behind him, there is a tiny black and white TV the size of a toaster with a vintage daytime soap opera on.

He reaches into a brown lunch sack on the window sill and puts a pretzel into his mouth. “How much do you want?” He asks, the pretzel drying up his mouth so he can’t enunciate as well. He grabs for an open can of Pepsi sitting near the TV to wash it down, and you can see that the creases on the skin of his hands seem to be stained with grease and dirt. “Sorry,” he apologizes. “I forgot to eat today.”

“It’s alright,” you see that the name on his coveralls reads: Eddie. “I just realized that I forgot to eat today, too,” you say, putting a hand on your stomach.

His tongue slips along his teeth under his lips to make sure there is no pretzel goo stuck behind as he looks at you, waiting for an answer to his question, but then he pulls a box of tissues out from under the counter and passes it to you.

“You’ve got…” he points to his eyes and makes a circle around one of them, and then points to you. “...from the rain probably but…”

Oh god, no. You realize that you never took a look at your face in the rear view before you got out of the truck. You’re so used to paying at the pump and getting the hell out of there without having to talk to anyone, you weren’t prepared to meet a cute guy in overalls.

“Um, thank you,” you say, self-consciously, sticking the tip of your tongue out to moisten the tissue so that you can wipe under your eyes. You look around and don’t see any type of reflective service to check and see if you got it all, but Eddie assures you:

“You got it,” he says with a wink. And then he stands there waiting, and you forgot what he asked you again, but finally…

“Gas! Right,” you look out at your truck, knowing what a gas guzzler she is. “Do you take debit cards?”

His forehead tightens, not sure he heard you correctly. “We take credit cards, sure.”

He reaches down to the same shelf where the tissue box had been and pulls out an archaic credit card machine that presses the credit card numbers onto the receipt with carbon paper. They haven’t been around in...20 years? Maybe more?

You wonder how this mom and pop, completely analogue service station, has been able to stay in business by keeping everything so simple. He sees that your hand trembles as you look through your wallet, realizing you don’t have the cash you thought you had, and then touching the credit card, trying to do the math in your head.

“We also take trade,” he tells you, matter-of-fact, tapping his finger on the wood table top, as if that’s another world wide form of modern currency.

“Trade?” Your mouth drops open a bit, your eyes shifting around, hoping he doesn’t mean sexual favors. But for him in particular, though, you might consider it.

“If...if you don’t have cash, I mean. You can just give me something in trade for the gas.”

You can’t tell if he’s serious or not. “I’m sure your boss wouldn’t like that.”

“How do you know I’m not the boss?” He asks, squaring his shoulders, crossing his arms at his chest, but then a little smirk pulls up one side of his mouth. Slowly, his smile widens, disarmingly, and it helps you to drop your guard.

“God, I’m having the worst day,” you confess to him on an exhale, your shoulders sinking, angry at yourself for feeling tears building in your eyes again. “You ever have one of those days when everything feels off and everything goes wrong?”

“Yeah,” he scoffs. “I’d say that’s pretty much every other day for me,” he gestures around with his free hand, and then he steadies his eyes on you and nibbles at his lip.

You choke back a sob that is lingering in your throat.

“Listen, what about this,” he is making a little circle on the table with his finger as he talks. “What if I get your gas for you, and then you let me take you to dinner?”

Your head snaps up, your bloodshot eyes meeting his. “Like...a date?”

He shrugs. “Or, just two people eating together. Whichever sounds better to you, princess.”

You inadvertently make a sloshing sound in your throat, jerking back a small spasm of tears. “I have to...I have get back home.”

Eddie’s eyes look momentarily set with sadness, but then he blinks, wetting his lips with his tongue.

“Where...where is home?” He asks you

You tilt your head as you try to remember, and it feels like trying to recall the colors of a marble lost down a dark well, never to be seen again. Was it red and green or blue and yellow? Did it have sparkles or was it clear with yellow speckles? You know there are so many possibilities in your brain somewhere, but you can’t find it.

“I..I don’t remember,” you cringe as you say it, placing your hand on your forehead to see if you have a temperature.

You snap your eyes up to his. “Hold on, just a second,” and then you pop open the snap on your wallet, your eyebrows knitting together as you turn it horizontally to grab your driver’s license.

“Wait, it should be right here,” you realize that that your ID isn’t in your wallet, neither are your credit cards or your cash. You spread the folds of your wallet open and shake it out on top of the counter, waiting for things to fall out.

Something yellow softly trembles from one of the slits in your wallet folds, and then flutters to the desk, landing between you and Eddie:

It’s the flattened flower from a daffodil; its the only thing in your wallet.

You and Eddie both stare at the flattened flower, and then Eddie picks it up, bringing it to his nose:

“This,” he raises his eyebrow, pinching it delicately, presenting it out like a prize. “This we can trade for. Daffodils don’t grow here this time of the year. This will get you a full tank.”

***

When you open the door to return to your truck, there are little kids scampering away, and one has your license plates clutched to their chest. All of them have long hair and over sized clothes that don’t fit, and the one with the dirty Hawkins basketball jersey seems to growl at you as they scamper across the road.

“Hey!” You scream. “Give that back!”

You start to head after them, but they are already disappearing into the corn fields and Eddie puts his hand on your arm. “Foreigner plates are always the first to go, sweetheart,” he tells you, as if it should be obvious. “They are worth a lot in trade. I thought I would have time to warn you.”

As your brain is trying to assess the situation, you come back to something he said. “Um...foreigner? Is that what you call someone who lives one state away?”

Eddie opens your gas cap and sticks the nozzle into your tank, and then he gives you a smile that you can’t read. “Which state are you in now, princess?”

“Well,” you rest your thigh against the bumper, forehead creased in thought, reaching one finger up to press thoughtfully against your mouth. There is a huge chunk of your memory, of the past 24 years of your life that you simply cannot recall.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Eddie reaches out and squeezes your arm. He ducks his head down to try and get you to meet his eyes. “I’m sure it will all come back to you.”

“I feel like…” you search his face; it’s familiar in a way that makes you feel comforted, even though he is a stranger. “...like I was upset about something, but now I can’t remember what it was.”

He releases your arm, lifting his chin with a grin. “Well, that’s good, isn’t it? You just need some food and some rest.”

“Sure, if you say so.” you are bothered, but you also like the feeling of not having anything weigh on your mind. You’re just in this moment, here with Eddie, in this strange place, without any plates on your vehicle.

Eddie pumps your gas for you while you sit with your legs dangling out of the passenger seat to talk to him.

“When you check in at the motel, let Claudia know that you’re a friend of mine, hopefully she’ll give you a deal,” Eddie tells you. But, then he squints, “Mmmmh, or she also might charge you more, depends on her mood.”

“Motel?” You cock you head, confused.

“Oh, well,” Eddie sticks his free hand in his pocket. “I figured you’d be staying at The Grove because it’s the only motel in town.”

You remember a motel, that rings a bell. “Yeah,” you tell him, feeling a little better, like maybe things were coming back to you. “I am staying at a motel. I just forgot the name.”

You reach over to grab your phone so that you can put The Grove Motel into your GPS when you realize it’s not on the dash mount, and you can’t find it anywhere. With a curse, you realize that those kids must’ve taken it. Next to you on the seat is your suitcase, and your overnight back with toiletries and snacks is on the floorboard, and you are grateful they didn’t have time to take those. Your phone was insured for theft, and so you figured you’d just deal with that back at the motel.

“Okay, well, thank you,” you say to Eddie as you shut the heavy metal door to your truck, manually rolling your window down to continue talking with him. “I guess I’ll...see you later? You said that the diner is next door to the motel?”

Eddie nods, wiping his hands again. “It’s just a block away, connected to the bowling alley with the big, neon sign. You can’t miss it.”

He also said he would keep an eye out for your phone (in his head, he’s picturing a handheld landline with a cord, and doesn’t know why you had one in your truck) and your plates, in case anyone tries to trade them for gas or garage services; this happens a lot, apparently. Eddie gave you directions to the motel, which was basically a straight shot a couple miles down the road, and then you waved goodbye out the window as you pulled back onto the highway. You swore you turned the radio off earlier, but the same song Melt with You by Modern English is playing again, and you give it a curious look before turning the dial to find another station. Static and then...Master of Puppets by Metallica...a news story quoting Chief Jim Hopper...strange electric buzzing...the song Running up that hill (make a deal with god) by Kate Bush….more static...and then what sounds like two young kids talking back and forth on their walkie-talkies.

You snap the radio off just in time to make room to pass by 4 young kids hurrying along on their bikes. Ahead of you on the horizon, the sunset glows pink, purple, and orange, and a strange certainty washes over you, assuring you that you’ve been here before.

Eddie stands in the same place, watching you go, excitement and fear gripping his heart. He stuffs the rag into his back pocket and goes to twirl one of the rings on his hand like he normally does, but then he remembers they are all in a dish inside the shop.

A tall, scruffy, older man with a full head of gray hair and a mustache walks over from the garage to stand next to him. He’s in a pair of jeans with a dark blue, button-down shirt that has “Gary” embroidered on the pocket.

“Well, I’ll be damned. Another one,” Gary says, crossing his arms over his chest.

Eddie nods his head, silently, squinting as tiny flecks of raindrops hit his face, watching your brake lights tap as you pass a group of kids.

“She doesn’t remember anything,” Eddie says, biting his cheek in thought. “Just like the others.”

“She will,” Gary assures him, clapping a hand on his shoulder. “When the time is right, it will all come back to her. Poor thing.”