#it's been ages since i was so impatient to write for this au

[crdteezv]

Just Us - Haechan

Paring: househusband!haechan x f! reader

Genre: married au, fluff, smut

Synopsis: After a long, tiring day, all you want is to relax at home and enjoy some time with your husband. With the kids staying at their grandparents' place, you and Haechan finally have the much-needed time alone that you've been waiting for…

Warnings: smut. !soft/pleasure dom! haechan, gentle/soft sex, he gives you massage…, dirty talk, teasing, kissing, oral (receiving), fingering, cumplay (you have been warned), manhandling, light degradation (only happened once), heavy praise, overstimulation, unprotected sex (breeding sex)

Word Count: 3.8k words

A/n: I’m not really the best at writing fluff, so if my style seems a little different, that’s why…

After working hard all day, all you want to do is relax in the comfort of your home and spend time with your loving husband. With the kids staying at their grandparents' house, you and Haechan finally have the quality time together that you both deserve after ages of not having it since the kids came along.

As you opened the door, you were welcomed by the delicious aroma of food.

It seemed like he was cooking something special tonight. Before heading to the kitchen, you set your things down and took off your shoes and coat. When you walked over to Haechan, you saw him dicing onions and peppers, wearing a cheesy apron that said, "Best Husband in the World."

“Oh honey, I didn’t hear you come in—”

He paused for a moment to kiss you on the lips. You gave him an endearing look, knowing full well that you needed that kiss after the day you'd had.

“Yeah, I wanted to sneak up on you.”

You let out a slight chuckle and tried to peek at what was boiling in the pot, but he stopped you.

“Hey, it’s a surprise! You'll see the final product once I’m done, alright?”

“But I want to know now—”

You tried to push past him, but he blocked you, pulling you into a hug and patting your head.

“You're always so impatient, my love. Just this once, let me surprise you, okay?”

He spoke in such a gentle and sweet tone—how could you resist his request?

“Fine, I was going to shower anyway.”

“Actually, I already ran you a bath and lit your favorite candles in the bathroom. I even left that book you were reading a while ago. You can take this time to catch up!”

How did you end up with the best man in the world?

“Aww, you really shouldn’t have.”

He wrapped his arms around your waist, gazing deeply into your eyes.

“Sweetie, as your husband, it’s my job to take care of you and spoil you when you need it. Plus, when you called me during your break earlier today, you sounded stressed, so I wanted to help in any way I could. That’s why I asked your parents to watch the kids this weekend.”

“I really love and appreciate you. You know that, right?”

He gave you another kiss.

“Of course, I know. Now go to the bathroom before the water gets cold. I’ll let you know when dinner is ready.”

You smiled and headed straight to the bathroom, and the sight took your breath away. He had placed rose petals all around, bubbles filled the bath, and the tub had a tray with the romance novel you never finished, along with some of your favorite snacks. He even added a glass of wine.

Everything was absolutely perfect.

You slipped out of your work clothes and sank into the tub, immediately feeling the stress melt away.

Some time passed, and Haechan called out that dinner was ready. To your surprise, he had prepared a variety of your favorite dishes.

“Wait, you cooked all this for me?”

“Yeah, and I also don’t feel like cooking for the rest of the week, so we’ll have plenty of leftovers.”

You let out a small laugh and kissed him on the cheek to thank him for the meal. The two of you sat side by side and began enjoying the food together. You felt grateful to have someone like Haechan, who is always home, taking care of the kids and cooking while you're at work. You've been the main breadwinner for the family for some years now, and it brings you comfort knowing you can rely on him to keep things running smoothly at home. He doesn’t mind, of course, and fully supports you and the career you've built for yourself. Plus, he enjoys being at home, so it’s a win for him.

“So, tell me about your day, my love,” he said, gently caressing your thigh.

“Ugh, where do I even start? No one at work was following directions properly, and it had me stressed out all day. We’ve got a big deadline coming up, and I’m worried we won’t be ready in time.”

“I’m so sorry to hear that, dear. But as the head of the department, shouldn’t everyone be following your lead?”

“Yeah, but Johnny, my right-hand man, was out sick today, and it just felt like chaos. Plus, some people still doubt my abilities because I’m you know?”

He knew exactly what you were alluding to and that you often expressed feeling the power imbalance at work, especially since you’re one of the few women who run a department in the company. He put his fork down, stopped eating, and gently placed both hands on your face, caressing your cheeks.

“Well, they’re all insecure men too scared to admit how amazing you are at your job. They’re just intimidated by you. Stand your ground, be firm, and they won’t dare mess with you.”

His words of encouragement warmed your heart, filling you with comfort. You couldn’t have asked for a more supportive husband.

“Yeah, you’re right. Also, my shoulders and back have been killing me all week.”

“Aww, how about this? Since we’re done eating, why don’t you get ready for bed, and before you sleep, I’ll give you a massage. How does that sound?”

“Like heaven. This is why I love you so much.”

He chuckled and kissed your forehead. You got up from the dining table and headed to your shared bedroom while he tidied up the dishes and put away the leftovers. As you changed into your nightgown, you heard him get into the shower.

You started thinking about how long it had been since the two of you had been intimate. With your long work hours, you were often too exhausted to do anything, but he never pressured you. Tonight, though, with the whole weekend ahead of you, you wanted to make the most of it. You missed the way he took care of you in bed, and it felt like forever since you’d had a proper orgasm.

Deciding to surprise him, you slipped under the covers without putting on any panties. When he came out of the shower, towel wrapped around his waist, hair still damp, you couldn’t help but notice the happy trial leading down his torso. The sight of him stirred a desire in you that had been building for too long.  Your arousal for him grew as he changed from a towel to sweatpants, choosing to remain shirtless.

“Hey, don’t tell me you forgot about the massage I promised. Come here.”

You obeyed, lying flat on the bed. He climbed on top of you and began massaging your shoulders, immediately noticing the tension in your muscles.

“Do you even stretch in the mornings?”

“I’m way too busy getting ready for work to think about something so trivial.”

“Babe, it literally takes five minutes,” he said with a playful tone.

The room fell silent for a moment, and you felt a little embarrassed, knowing he was right. He laughed softly, sensing your shyness.

“You’re so adorable when you get flustered. I want to see this side of you more often. Also, I’m just going to—”

He slowly lowered the straps of your gown, pulling it down to your waist, leaving your back fully exposed. In this moment, you felt so vulnerable under his care. The attention he was giving you made you nervous but in the best way possible.

“I needed better access, love. Also, I’ve been wanting to try this…”

He reached over to his bedside table and grabbed a bottle of massage oil.

“I’ve been wanting to use this on you for a while, and now seems like the perfect time, don’t you think?”

You nodded in agreement. He poured some oil into his hands, rubbing them together before working it into your back. The oil was cool at first but soon felt soothing against your skin. As his hands moved across your back, your arousal grew. His touch, soft yet deliberate, made you wish he’d explore more than just your back. 

“Honey, are you okay? You’re shaking. Do you want me to stop?”

“NO. I mean… please don’t stop. It just feels really good.”

Your voice betrayed the deeper desire bubbling within, and you hoped he wouldn’t stop there. He let out a little smirk and took note of how your body was responding to his touch. He started to massage your lower back, where most of your pain was coming from. You let out some low moans as he relieved your tension. He knelt down close to your ear and whispered,

“You’re really liking this a lot, darling. You haven’t stopped moaning since I put my hands on you. You’re so needy—”

He gave you another kiss on the forehead.

“That’s starting to turn me on.”

You instantly felt shivers run down your spine. The way he was talking to you now was seriously starting to have an effect on you.

“You should really do something about that,” you said with a smirk, arching your back slightly so your ass pressed against his crotch. He let out a groan in response.

“Fuck, I always forget how desperate you get for me.”

He began to massage your thighs down to your calves, and at this angle, he noticed that you weren’t wearing any underwear.

“No panties for me too? God, you’re such a slut.”

It had been forever since he talked to you like this. He was always so good with his words and knew exactly what to say to get you going. You shifted in place and whimpered at his words. He noticed that and stopped massaging you, then started to kiss all over your legs. He was painfully slow on purpose because he knew how badly you’d been wanting this.

“Your body is absolutely amazing, honey. I love every inch of you, and I just can’t get enough—”

He moved up to your thighs, now only inches away from your pussy.

“Especially these pretty thighs. God, I want you to crush me with them.”

His words drove you into a frenzy. He always loved to worship the ground you walked on and especially loved to express how much he adored your body. His hot breath was only inches away from your cunt as he took off your nightgown, exposing your ass. He grabbed both of your cheeks in his hands and shoved his face deep into your pussy without warning. His actions caught you off guard, and you let out a loud moan. Without mercy, he began to eat at your cunt, lifting your ass in the air and smothering his face into you. You started to grip the sheets and buried your face into the pillow to suppress all the noises you were making. He then flipped you onto your back and placed both of your legs on his shoulders.

“Don’t hold back, sweetheart. It’s just us tonight, remember?” You deserve all of this, and I want to hear how good I’m making you feel.”

Everything about this whole situation was making you flustered, and all you could do was nod your head in response. He instantly went back to eating you out, and you were moaning at how good it felt. You began to squeeze your thighs around his face, just as he had pleaded for you to do before. You pulled at his hair to go deeper into you as he sucked on your clit.

“P-please go faster.”

You didn’t have to tell him twice, and he instantly picked up the pace. But he wanted to add more stimulation, so he shoved one of his fingers inside you. You threw your head back in bliss and let out a scream of pleasure. You felt so good in this moment, and this was exactly what you needed after the week you just had.

“You like this, honey?”

“F-fuck yes! P-please don’t stop—”

He started to slow down his pace and took his mouth off of you. You groaned in agony, not wanting him to slow down. He then proceeded to insert another finger and had his eyes locked on you.

“I just love seeing you get all restless and needy for me. It’s so cute.”

He started to pick up the pace a bit and thrust his two fingers deep inside you. You felt the coolness of his wedding ring against your aching cunt, and it added to your arousal as his palm pressed into you. He wore a cocky grin, fully aware of the effect he had on you. He knew that you were always the one in control at work and that you were assertive, but in the bedroom, he took charge, and you always melted under him. You appreciated it, though, because it was kind of an escape from the outside world. You loved how easily he could make you submit.

All of a sudden, he placed his thumb against your clit and started vigorously rubbing it. You moaned out loud once again, and he started laughing.

“God, you really love all this. We should do this more often, don’t you think?”

You were too lost in your own little world to even register anything he was saying right now. He then added a third finger to grab your attention.

“You need to listen to me when I talk to you.”

How could you even respond when he was utterly overwhelming you at your core? You could barely form coherent sentences.

“Fine, I-I agree with y-you, and we should do this—”

Before you could finish what you were saying, he replaced his thumb with his mouth again and started to suck on your clit. You didn’t know how much more of this you could take, and you pulled at his hair again, enclosing your thighs around his face. His eyes rolled to the back of his head; this was heaven for him. 

“Ahh, I’m c-close!”

You felt him smirk beneath you as he started to go at it with his fingers and tongue. You eventually reached your breaking point, finishing all over his face. You even got some on the sheets, and you felt so embarrassed. You were going to grab some tissues from your bedside table to wipe his face when he grabbed both your wrists and pinned them above you. He looked down at you with so much lust in his eyes that it was starting to turn you on again.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

“I-I was going to clean up the mess I made on your face.”

He instantly began to lick your juices off his face, savoring your taste while wearing the biggest smirk.

“Why would you need to do that, honey?”

He knelt down to your ear and whispered, “When I said I love every part of you, I mean every part.”

You felt a shiver run down your spine from his words. You knew exactly what he meant when he said it, and it showed that he really loved everything about you. He kissed you on the lips, and you wrapped your arms around his neck. You could still taste yourself on his lips, which made you feel even more flustered.

“How can I not resist you when you taste so good, sweetie?”

You buried your face in the crook of his neck, feeling shy around him. He was the only one who truly made you feel that way. You both turned to the side, and you felt him place a hand around your body, gently caressing your back. He made you feel so comforted and loved.

“Oh, we’re not done, by the way.”

You looked at him with a confused expression as you saw him start to get on top of you. You looked down and noticed his hard-on through his sweats.

“I still haven’t gotten to properly please you.”

“But you just gave me head… I don’t think I’m ready for a round two—”

He took off his sweatpants completely, and you noticed that he also wasn’t wearing any underwear.

He was just as bad as you.

He starts to rub his cock against your wet pussy, and you feel yourself arching back against him.

“I don’t know, sweetie. You seem to want this really bad. Besides—”

Without any warning or hesitation, he shoves himself inside of you.

“I’m the one who’s making you feel good tonight, so be a good girl for me and take it.”

God, how does he always make you feel butterflies in your stomach? You felt so submissive to him at that moment and didn’t want to talk back at all. You wrapped your legs around his waist as he began to thrust into you, taking his time with a slow and sensual pace. He knows exactly what he’s doing to you. Although you usually liked it rough and fast, tonight he wanted to savor every moment and take his time with you.

He was trying to make love.

It’s moments like this that make him think back to your wedding night. The way you looked at him made him fall for you all over again. Giving yourself to him felt amazing and made him want to care for and cherish you forever.

Back in the present, he was determined to make you feel just as good as you did on the night of your wedding. He starts to kiss you once again as he drives himself deeper into you. He begins to pick up the pace a bit and hits a certain area. He feels you moan against his lips and tighten around him.

“Mhm, does it feel good when I fuck you right here?”

He gripped the headboard with one hand and began to thrust into you, hitting that one spot perfectly. You couldn't help but moan loudly, reveling in the pleasure he was giving you.

“Y-yes, p-please don’t stop…”

He loved watching you melt around him. Seeing you like this for him drove him wild. As he began kissing your neck, you moaned at his touch, relishing the pleasure he was giving you in multiple places at once. He knew exactly how to overstimulate you. You began to scratch his back, urging him to thrust harder and faster.  Letting go of the headboard, he gripped your love handles with both hands and bullied his way deeper inside you.

“God, honey, you feel so good around me.”

You loved the way he praised you and never wanted him to stop. You threw your head back in pleasure against the pillow, you babbled his name in bliss as he increased his pace. He returned to kissing you, moving down to your chest. He was so enamored by you that he could hardly believe you were his wife. There were times when he felt he didn't deserve you, but in moments like this, he felt completely reassured. Grabbing both of your ankles, he pushed them back toward your head, placing you in a mating press. Then, he began to kiss and suckle on your boobs. You screamed his name at the sudden sensation on your chest.

“Fuck, y-you make me f-feel so good, Hyuck.”

He loves to hear you call him by his nickname; it makes him melt for you immediately.

“And you look so good taking me, baby. Keep telling me how good I make you feel.”

You always feel a bit shy when it comes to talking in intimate moments like this. You both can be pretty vocal, but he’s particularly good with his words.

“I love the way you make me feel, and I don’t want you to stop.”

He went straight for your lips and gave you a passionate kiss.

“I love you so much, honey; don’t you ever forget that.” You nodded in response and said that you loved him too.

“God, you look so pretty it makes me want to put another baby inside of you.”

You wrapped your arms around his neck once again, looked him dead in the eyes, and said, 

“What’s stopping you from doing it now, love?”

He instantly wanted to cum for you right then and there. He started kissing you again and thrusting into you at a rapid pace.

“Fuck, you feel amazing around me. I’m getting close.”

“Me too. P-please cum inside of me.”

He pushed your legs all the way back, hitting that special spot in your wet warmth. You started to dig your nails into his back, and you gave in before him, cumming all over his cock.

“Mhm, atta girl, let it all out for me.”

You couldn’t stop screaming in pleasure and buried your face in the crook of his neck once again. Not long after you came, he did too, fucking you through your orgasm. You felt so overstimulated that it made you squirt all over his cock. Your mixed juices covered the sheets and his pelvis, including his happy trail. You felt flustered and embarrassed, as this was the first time anything like this had happened to you.

“Oh my god, honey, I’m sorry for making such a mess! Let me go and clean this up—”

He silences you with a deep kiss, wrapping his arms around you. Gently, he lifts you onto him, holding you tightly at the waist.

“Baby, I think that’s one of the hottest things you’ve ever done.”

You were taken aback by his statement but weren’t surprised. He was obsessed with everything about you, and something like this wouldn’t make him bat an eye. He starts to kiss your forehead and draws circles against your back with his fingertips, making you wince at his touch.

You felt so flustered in this situation that you buried your face in your hands and said, “I can’t believe I just did that.” He grabbed both of your wrists and pushed your hands away from your face so he could see you. He gave you another kiss on the lips and smiled back at you. “I told you it’s okay, baby, and to be honest, I wish you had done that sooner.”

You gave him a deadpan look, not wanting to react at all.

“Hey, what can I say? I’m just madly in love with you, and I’m just glad I brought you this much pleasure. Especially with the stressful week you had, I had to make you feel good.”

“And I thank you for that. Now, what are we going to do about all this?”

You both looked down at your mixed fluids, then looked back at each other and started to laugh.

“Don’t worry about it, darling; I’ll take care of it. But first—”

He rose from the bed and headed straight to the bathroom, filling the tub with warm water for both of you. When he returned to the bedroom, he lifted you in a bridal carry and brought you into the steamy oasis, gently setting you down in the tub.

“Now I’ll be back; I’m going to change the sheets on the bed and join you, okay, love?”

You nodded your head and watched as he walked back into the bedroom.

You were so glad to have a caring husband like Haechan…

[moralesluvr]

FABLE AND TRUTH 1 | billie eilish

୧ ‧₊˚ love was the law & religion was taught…. ↳ summary: you had always been raised on being poise, feminine, classy. but what was most important to your family was your religion— and it had embroidered itself into your daily life. but when it’s time to pick between feelings and faith, which will you choose? pairings & aus. billie eilish x fem!reader warnings. religious backgrounds & guilt | mature language | sexual content | substance use author's note. YAYYY ITS STARTINGG!! wc. 4.4k

✧ 9:06 am, monday ✧

the bells of harkness tower toll sharply, their deep, reverberating chimes slicing through the crisp autumn air. the sound is rich and weighted, echoing across yale’s storied campus, signaling the start of another day as people dispersed from their dorms and earlier classes, talking amongst themselves and hastily walking to their next destination. 

the mist of early morning clings to the aged stone of the university, a slight fog covering over you as you walk briskly across the cobblestone pathways, your leather satchel bouncing gently against your side. chanel pumps decorate your feet, a cartier bracelet accenting your freshly tanned skin. your sleek, blown-out hair was framed against your face, bouncing slightly with every step, and your pale pink cardigan stood out amid the sea of muted fall tones around you.

beside you was emma harper, your best friend— strolling at a leisurely pace, tugging her scarf tighter against the crisp autumn air that whacked against the both of you. where you were polished and deliberate, emma was bold and carefree, her wild auburn hair nearly as untamed as her personality . 

the two of you couldn't have been more different, yet your friendship had stood the test of time, from summers in france to your shared journey at yale.

"you're going to give yourself a stress migraine, y/n." emma teased at you, nudging your shoulder as you both approached your lecture hall, "professor weller isn't grading us on who takes the prettiest notes, or who sits at the front. why so worked up?”

you offered up a small laugh, though your grip on your notebook tightened. a sigh follows your short-lived giggle, "i just want to be prepared. philosophy of religion isn't exactly a casual topic. it's very intense."

"you've been prepared since the first day of class," emma grumbles, rolling her eyes. "honey, you're literally the only person i know who can quote augustine without looking it up. so relax a little."

relax. you had heard that word countless times, usually from emma. it wasn't that you didn't know how— it was just that there was always so much to do. papers to write, prayers to say, a faith to nurture. for you, discipline wasn't a burden; it was a way of life, a way of honoring the God who had guided you this far.

but as you entered the lecture hall and emma plopped into the seat adjacent to yours, you couldn't help but smile. emma was right in her own way— you could afford to let go sometimes. just... not too much. everything always had to be structured, neat, and in order. just how you liked it. 

professor weller's lecture was as engaging as ever, his voice commanding attention as he wove through topics of faith and reason, along with their uncomfortable contrasts and truths. you sat straight-backed, your pen flying across the page as you absorbed every word with neat, pretty handwriting, your pink pen gliding against your paper. emma, meanwhile, alternated between typing notes and sneaking glances at her phone, her impatience barely concealed as she locked her phone, slipping it into a pocket. 

midway through the lecture, emma leaned over, her voice low. "sooooo, sam's hosting a party tonight…”

you didn't look up, still writing away on your paper attentively, "and how does that concern me?"

"well, he wants to know if we're coming, duh.” 

you paused your writing just long enough to shoot emma a knowing look. you cock your head to the side, lips forced into a pout, "come on em, you know i don't do parties."

emma groaned softly, "right, of course. yale's resident saint doesn't do parties.” she throws her hands up in defense, “whatever. but just come with me, please? i promise, you’ll have fun!"

"it's not about being a saint," you whispered back, your tone firm, but always remaining kind. "i just don't see the point in spending a night doing... things i'd regret, like doing substances that make me forget i’m on planet earth. it’s never been my thing.” 

emma smirked, "not everyone regrets it, you know. some people do actually have fun. maybe you should learn how.” 

you smiled faintly, but said nothing. having fun wasn't the issue—it never had been.you did have fun— doing things that actually mattered, things that actually interested you. you could curl up with coffee and a good novel, or crochet a new sweater, there were multitudes of things that you did for fun. 

but in contrast, emma was the party girl. her type of fun was smoking a bit of weed and blasting music in her audi, or going home with various guys that she’d meet out at bars, or even in passing. she was bold, strong, carefree. but you adored structure, class— you didn’t put her down for doing what she does, she’s your best friend, afterall— but it just wasn’t your style. 

 it was about your values, about living a life that aligned with the principles that you had held dear for so long. you weren’t naïve; you knew what went on at those parties. drinking, hookups, conversations drowned out by loud music... and none of it appealed to you.

emma, to her credit, didn't push further. your friendship always worked out so well because you respected each other's boundaries, even when you didn't understand them.

you packed up your things as the sound of the bell’s ring filled your ears, sliding your bag into your shoulder as you waited for emma to stash her loose papers into her bag. you frowned, “your organization skills are..definitely something.” 

she just laughed it off, “works for me. i like living life on the edge.” 

after class, the two of you made your way across campus, the golden autumn leaves crunching beneath emma's boots and your new, all-black pumps. yale's gothic architecture loomed around you as you treaded against the grass, looking at all the buildings that were majestic and timeless, a reminder of the legacy that you were part of.

"there they are!" emma hollers, spotting your friend group near the library steps.

oliver, ever the charmer, was lounging against the stone railing, his tailored coat giving him an air of effortless sophistication. he flipped a hand through his brown hair as he looked up, his eye landing on you and emma as she shot you both a warm smile. you spotted naomi first though, her bright purple hair almost impossible to miss— and she waved a ring-accented hand at you, a cigarette shoved between her index and middle finger. jules was seated right next to naomi, her black hair sleek and flowing down her back, complimenting her starry eyeshadow and long, red nails as she twiddled her fingers at you in greeting.

"y/n! emma!" oliver called, his grin broad and welcoming as he waved you and emma over, his lanky frame extending, ready to greet you with hugs like he always did. 

emma sauntered over, her confidence nearly as natural as breathing. you followed her lead, offering polite smiles as you joined the group, taking a seat next to naomi. she pulls you into a tight embrace, planting a little kiss on your cheek, “y/n! hi my love! missed you so much!”

she smelled of cigarette smoke and versace perfume, and the mixture was always oddly comforting to you. you giggle at her over-the-top affection, though you always loved it. naomi was the sweet one of the group, always offering the shirt off of her back if she really needed to. she was beautiful— inside and out, her whimsical fashion sense complimenting how pure and sweet her soul was.

"so," jules started, exhaling a plume of smoke from her half-dead cigarette, "sam's party tonight. we going?"

"i'm in," oliver said immediately, adjusting his coat with a shrug that oozed nonchalance, “need to get out a bit, yeah?”

"same here.” naomi added, flicking ash from her cigarette as her eyes found yours, and then all eyes simultaneously turned to you. you sat slightly apart from the rest of them, your pink cardigan and neatly pressed skirt a stark contrast to the haze of thick cigarette smoke and leather jackets. you smiled gently, your hands clasped in front of your frame.

you let off a shrug, a little sick and tired of having to repeat these same words over and over again, "you know i don't do parties.” you shrug gently, your voice soft but resolute.

"come on, little saint," emma teased, crossing her arms at your protest, "just one night. we’re your best friends, we promise that nothing will happen to you— we won’t let it.” emma’s statement earns approving nods from the rest of the group, sharing looks with one another in hopes that their eagerness was convincing to you.

it wasn’t. 

you laughed lightly, shaking your head, "just isn’t my thing, you all know this—“ you gesture to everyone, “i really just don’t feel up to it."

oliver shrugs, while naomi and jules nod quietly. they weren’t going to push you, so they just carry on with their conversation, chatting about classes, teachers, and everything that surrounded it.

as the conversation flipped to other topics, you found yourself falling quiet, content with listening in as the others bantered. you loved your friends, truly you did— but moments like this reminded you  of just how different you were from them. it wasn't a bad thing, necessarily; it was just... isolating, sometimes.

faith had always been your anchor, the thing that kept you steady in a world that often felt so chaotic. but every now and then, you wondered if it also kept you apart, if your refusal to compromise made yourself unknowable in ways even your closest friends couldn't understand.

you eventually pushed the thought away as emma started telling a story about some disastrous group project in her third class, her animated gestures pulling laughter out of everyone. 

comparison was the thief of joy— you knew this, but you sometimes wished that you could be more like emma. carefree yet compassionate, smart but knowing when to let loose. sometimes, you felt like you could be a little too uptight, and jealously oozed from your pores at you watched your best friend take a drag from a cigarette, laughing and carrying on with wide, sparkling green eyes. 

but you refused to get sucked up in comparisons, so you smile, warmth blooming in your chest as everyone stood up, walking to the main hall for a passing period.

you thought long and hard about the idea of going to a party with everyone— it seemed stupid in your humble opinion, but you missed hanging out with your friends— so you offered up, “okay, i have a proposal. what if i go to this stupid party, but only to drive? i’ll make sure none of you get too drunk and wind up someplace you aren’t supposed to be.” 

that makes everyone cheer, and naomi flips her long, shiny black hair to the side, “yes! yes!” she wraps you in an embrace that’s so tight you can hardly breathe, “— you’re the best! love you!” 

you offered a nervous smile towards the group as you filed into a starbucks, waiting in line as your friends carried on about what everyone was wearing, what drinks they hoped were there— and that’s when you tuned out. you were pumped to attend this party, but also scared, and as the day went on, the burden of going to this function was the only thing on your mind.

✧ 7:45 pm ✧

you sat cross-legged on your bed in your shared dorm room, your closet doors open as you stared at the carefully organized clothes inside. the room smelled faintly of lavender and pine, a subtle touch from the air freshener you’d tucked beside your desk— it always seemed to calm you down. your eyes scanned the rack, hoping something could catch your eye, but nothing particularly stood out.

emma had insisted that you join in on their festivities until you finally caved and said yes. you had reluctantly agreed, though you couldn't quite shake the nagging feeling that you didn't belong in that atmosphere. but now you felt like you needed to go— you had to, the feeling of missing out making you a little afraid. 

finally, you settled on a dark blue polo sweater that clung to your figure just enough to be flattering, but was still modest. you paired it with some well-fitted jeans and, of course, your signature black heels—Chanel, naturally. it was a bit more casual than what most people would wear to a party, but it was your style, so you didn’t really mind. 

just as you were smoothing out the sweater's collar, emma barged into the room, her wild hair a stark contrast to your usual, soft blow out. emma's eyes immediately landed on your outfit as she raised her eyebrows.

"you're really gonna go with the ‘first day of prep school’ look, huh?" emma teased, tossing her purse onto your bed before digging through her own closet for something more daring.

"what's wrong with my outfit?” you asked, glancing at yourself in the mirror, twisting on your heel and flattening out a small wrinkle in your jeans.

"oh, nothing," emma grinned mischievously, shrugging, "it's just so... you. not a bad thing, just— this is a party that you're going to, did you forget?” 

you chuckled softly, fixing your hair in the mirror now, "i know, but i think it suits me, em. is that so bad?"

emma snorted. "right, of course. just—" she stopped mid-sentence, tossing her hands up in frustration. "you look so cute, but it's a party! where's the wild side, y/n?"

"i'm here to drive you guys," you said simply, a smile tugging at your llips. "that's all. i'm not here for anything else."

emma raised an eyebrow, pulling a dark velvet mini skirt off the rack. "yeah, yeah, i know. but you need to have fun, too. you're way too uptight sometimes."

"i'm not uptight, em!” you protested, though the smile on your face betrayed you.

"uh-huh, sure. just wait until i drag you out onto the dance floor!” emma winked, throwing a bold crop top onto the surface of your bed, “and you’d look so fucking good in this, why don’t you put this on?”

you snorted lightly. "yeah, good luck with that."

by the time everyone in the group was ready, the night was creeping in, the campus already buzzing with excitement. you could feel a quiet sense of discomfort stirring within yourself —parties weren't your scene at all, and you weren’t sure what to expect. but the drive to the party felt like the safest option, so you settled on that.

after a few minutes of emma touching up her makeup and slipping a pair of louboutins on, everyone met up in the parking lot, and you felt a little out of place. jules was clad in a black, tight mini dress with slick silver heels, her hair in a effortless but beautiful bun as she pulled out her digital camera to take pictures. naomi had settled on a purple halter top and a black skirt, complimentary to oliver’s lavender top and leather pants. 

jules gave you a raised eyebrow, “you sure you don’t wanna change out of that?” 

you gave out a sigh, a little irritated with how many times someone had suggested to change out of your outfit. it was comfortable, and that’s all you really cared about— so you just nodded yes, grabbing your keys and heading to your car while everyone finished up their photos.

emma and the others climbed into your car, the sound of music and laughter filling the air as you made your way over to the address. the streets were lined with people, most of them laughing or stumbling their way into various houses or apartments. as you neared the destination, you felt your heartbeat quicken.

although you didn’t want to admit it, you were a little nervous. you had never stepped foot into a house party, and it felt so off that you’d literally be in a random stranger’s home with a bunch of other people you didn’t know, and you were supposed to dance and get drunk in these conditions? absolutely not. 

the party was already in full swing by the time that you and your friends arrived. music blared from the speakers, a mix of bass-heavy tracks and indie-pop anthems that were so foreign to you. you killed the engine and parked the car, trying to steady your breathing as everyone filed out.

"you're gonna be fine," emma said, slinging her arm around your shoulder as you approached the door, "trust me, it's just a party."

"well, i've never been good at these," you admitted, your voice seldom quiet, "i've never even been to one."

emma grinned, tugging you inside. "well, now you have the opportunity to be good at them. so let’s go!”

you sighed as the group filed into the house, which was chaotic, with people everywhere— laughing, drinking, shouting over the music, and making out in random corners. you felt immediately out of place, standing still for a moment to take it all in. you followed emma as she navigated through the crowd, her heels clicking on the hardwood floor, while the others spread out, eager to catch up with their friends.

you didn't expect to enjoy herself, but a part of you longed to feel connected—to lose the anxiety that seemed to constantly gnaw at you. but it just wasn’t something that you were all that familiar with. you tried to hold onto emma as long as you could, but she eventually found some cute guy to buy her a drink and have a quick dance, so you ventured off, attempting to find some refuge in a corner that you could hide out in. 

as you walked, you heard something in the distance, smooth and beautiful.

a voice.

it was soft, haunting, yet full of raw emotion, it stood out amid the chaos of the house. the crowd around you seemed oblivious to it, caught up in their own worlds. but you, however, stood frozen for a moment, the familiar pang of curiosity tugging at you.

it was an acoustic set, just a voice and a guitar— but it was captivating. the melody drifted over the noise of the party, lulling you into some kind of trance. you had never heard the song before, so you pulled out your phone and quickly opened Shazam, holding it up to the sound.

as the app processed, the result popped up on your screen: billie eilish.

your heart skipped. you knew the name. of course you did. billie eilish was a sensation. a moment— everyone knew her name.

you lingered in the background, mesmerized by the performance. billie's voice was even more incredible live, filled with emotion, effortless and raw. you didn't notice how long you had been standing there, listening to the music, and you really only noticed because your feet were slightly sore from the heels. you started to walk away to find your friends until you felt someone brush past you— someone who was too close, and way too fast.

clink.

before you could move, you felt a cold splash across your chest.

"shit, i am so sorry!"

you looked down at your sweater, now stained with the dark liquid from some foreign drink, and your heart sank. it was easily your favorite sweater, and it was all ruined now. but when you looked up, you were met the apologetic gaze of a girl with striking, pitch black hair and vivid blue eyes. it was billie eilish.

"oh my gosh," you spoke softly, though you couldn't help the tiny flare of irritation, “no, i-it’s okay…but….you're…”

“billie eilish?” she asked, and you nodded in response, almost too shocked to really say anything else.

she was beautiful, way more beautiful now that she was standing right in front of your face, literally. her eyes were a piercing blue, oceany and warm, and every single one of her features were so unique, so prominent, and you felt your breath hitch.

billie's expression shifted as you stayed quiet, her lips curling into an apologetic smile, "i didn't mean to bump into you, love, i'm really sorry. let me fix this."

you shook your head, trying to laugh it off, "oh, no need, it's fine. it's just a silly sweater, i can always wash it out."

"no, no, it was shitty of me to not look where i was going, so i'll make it up to you," billie said quickly, like she was in some type of rush. "i'll buy you a drink. how about that?"

you stood frozen for a moment, wondering whether or not it was even worth the hassle to make billie buy a drink for you, or even tell her that you don’t drink at all. but she was persistent, and you knew that no matter how much you protested, she was going to somehow offer up a repercussion for her actions. 

"uh, i don't really..." you drafted, your voice still soft, unsure if you wanted to ruin this moment, by saying alcohol wasn't really your thing, so you just shrugged. "okay, yeah, sure."

billie left you with a wink as she turned around. "cool. i'll be right back."

billie disappeared into the crowd, leaving you standing in the middle of the chaos with the awful remnants of your ruined sweater, but somehow feeling a little more at ease than before. the music blared, people shouting and laughing over the pounding beats, but you couldn't help but feel something strange settle in you chest. billie was sweet, and thoughtful, and really the only person at the party who made you feel like you could just chill out.

a few minutes later, billie weaved through the crowd again, holding a glass in one hand and cutting through people like she owned the place. she didn’t really say excuse me, because people already knew to move. the crowd filed onto separate sides of the room as she walked through with a smile, her eyes finding yours as she met up with you again. 

you looked reluctant to take the cup in her hand, so billie shook her head, "no no, it isn't alcoholic, don't worry." she smiled, handing you the drink, "i figured you'd be more comfortable with this. i can tell you don't really drink— so it's just grape juice." 

you felt your lips curve upward, the kindness behind billie's words making something warm stir within you. you smiled, "thanks." 

you sipped at the drink quietly, the cider sweet and refreshing, and you couldn't help but appreciate the thought behind it. billie hadn't tried to push anything else onto you, which made the whole thing feel a little less like a game, and you felt yourself soften up a bit. 

billie swigged from her own red solo cup, the liquid inside clearly something much stronger, judging by the way she made a tight face when she drank from it. she let out a small cough, holding the empty cup in between her thumb and index finger, slumping against the wall, relaxed.

"yeah, no worries," billie spoke gently, "i know how people are with the whole 'let's get wasted' thing. i can tell that just isn’t your thing, yeah?”

you smiled at the words, but you still felt that familiar unease of discomfort just talking about it, "yeah, i just... i don't really get the appeal.”

"me neither," billie said bluntly, shrugging, “it's just a way for people to forget their shit for a minute. which i guess is fine sometimes, but it's not really my thing. i like to face everything, even the hard shit."

your brows furrowed slightly, cocking your head to the side, "but aren't you drinking...right now? excuse me for asking, i’m sorry.”

billie gave you a sharp look, her iridescent eyes glinting in the dim light. she waved a hand at you, "nah, i get it, don’t apologize. i only drink sometimes, simply when i feel like it. but i can’t get with people pretending everything’s all fine and dandy when they’ve got a little alcohol in their system. i don’t like that.”

your chest tightened a little, your mind racing with how easy it was for billie to speak so openly, so unapologetically. it made you feel a little small, like all the structure you’d built around yourself was just a facade. billie didn't give two fucks, and that somehow made you want to be like that, even if it was just for a moment.

"i get it," you said quietly, your voice calmer now, "i mean, i don't know if i'm that brave. but... i get it."

before billie could respond back, the crowd shifted, and your attention was pulled across the room. emma was waving at you, impatience and irritation written all over her face. you glanced at billie one last time, feeling a flicker of regret at the thought of leaving the conversation behind.

"hey, i should probably go," you said, finishing off the last of your juice, "my best friend’s calling me."

billie nodded with a lazy grin, leaning back against the wall, "i understand. but next time, don't bail so quick, yeah?" i'll be here when you wanna party a little bit."

your smile lingered as you turned to leave, pulling your purse closer to your chest, "well, then i don't think you'll ever see me again." 

you gave billie a wave goodbye as you walked toward emma, and you felt your heart literally beating out of your chest as you tried to place this weird feeling you got from billie. you were intrigued by her, wanting to know more about her opinions, how she felt about any and everything. about– 

"dude, are you coming or what?" emma's voice snapped you out of your thoughts. she was standing by the door now, arms crossed, a look of annoyance on her face. "i can’t believe what just happened to me, so please, let’s go before i get in a fight."

you laughed softly, shaking your head. "okay, i'm coming."

with one last glance at billie—who was already disappearing into the crowd again— you turned and walked toward emma, your mind racing with questions you didn't really have the answers to. you couldn't put billie out of her head. and somehow, you had a feeling it wasn't the last time you’d be seeing her tonight.

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[nadvs]

Can you write them going to her friends from college weeding? Maybe it's a cheerleader and a guy from the basketball team that gets married? Max is there as well and they sit at the same table at dinner 😂

Its after they have kids and its not often they get time for themself so they have hot sex in a bathroom. Like naley in 6x23.

Love everything you write!! Its the first thing a check when i wake up 😍😍

I LOVE THIS PROMPT!! aaa thank you babe 🥰

based on this fic

» au masterlist

she stays in contact with a lot of the friends she made on the squad, so when she gets a facetime call from one of her fellow ex-cheerleaders showing her the engagement ring she just got from one of the basketball players on the team they cheered for together, she’s thrilled for her friend.

getting an invitation to the wedding is extra exciting because she’s been at home nonstop with the twins so going to a nice event with her boyfriend, seeing her old friends, partying and not having to worry about babies who just learned how to crawl wanting to climb on everything, is just what she needs.

rafe hasn’t seen her all dolled up in a while so when she walks out of their ensuite a few minutes before they have to go, he forgets to breathe for a second. he just dropped the twins off at a family member’s, looking painfully handsome in his suit, and he gives her that look she knows too well and she just laughs and tells him, “we don’t have time.”

“not even a quickie?” he teases.

“we can’t be late,” she says, planting a kiss on his cheek. “but there’s no way i’m not getting you out of that suit later.”

after a beautiful ceremony, they settle in their seats in the banquet hall. she sees max at the table, seated across from her with his date. her friend warned her that they were seating all their old college friends together, so at least she saw it coming.

she says nothing but a polite “hello” to him. he doesn’t look very happy to see that she’s still with rafe.

as dinner starts coming out, she and rafe are already a little tipsy from the open bar. his hand is on her thigh under the table, thumb stroking over her dress, leaning to whisper in her ear over the music.

“i can’t do this,” he says. “not when i know what’s under that dress.”

“baby, where would we even go?” she laughs. admittedly, the feeling of his hand on her, especially because since the twins came, they don’t get much time for themselves, makes her body warm with anticipation.

rafe takes her hand, guiding her out of the loud hall. he would do anything to be inside her right now, even if he has to leave the wedding and book a hotel nearby.

when he finds a private bathroom, he pushes her up against the door the second it’s shut, putting his hand between her legs.

she gasps against his mouth when he touches her and it’s the best release in the world, feeling him on her again after what feels like ages of no contact.

“don’t even know how i lasted this long,” he mumbles. “you have any idea how fucking hard it is not to touch you when i want to?”

“do whatever you want to me,” she says, nearly pleading. “i miss this so much.”

he kisses her roughly, pushing her panties to the side, groaning into her mouth when he feels how warm and soft she is.

she impatiently unbuckles his belt, writhing against him as they pant together. he’s already rock hard and she strokes him, gently squeezing, already aching at this point.

she lifts her leg, resting it on his hip. he keeps her panties to the side with one hand while guiding himself into her with the other.

rafe sinks into her so slowly that it’s agonizing, a whispered fuck coming out of his mouth.

it feels like their college days, back when they fucked any chance they could get, back when he pushed her up against a bookshelf in the library and made her see stars.

his thrusts slowly start to grow in speed and force, the door rattling with every jolt, filling her so nicely that she has to shut her eyes from the pleasure.

“no, look at me,” he mumbles. “look at me when i fuck you.”

she obeys, nodding, meeting his eyes as he dives deep into her over and over like it’s the first time.

once his hand drags to her clit, rubbing in circles, she knows she only has moments before she comes. she holds him tightly, bites her bottom lip, her eyes half-lidded as the peak hits her, melting into pleasure.

he helps hold her leg up as she comes, feeling her walls flutter around him, thrusting so hard that he starts to sweat.

he comes while kissing her, their tongues running over each other’s, the sound of their heavy breaths filling the small room.

when they part, they’re both still panting. once they find some composure, they laugh together, both in bliss over what they just did.

she starts to smooth down her hair, but rafe takes over, adjusting it for her.

“how bad is my hair?” she asks, her chest still rising and falling quickly. “will people be able to tell?”

“no way,” he says unconvincingly, a lazy smirk on his face.

“you want them to be able to tell,” she chuckles.

“maybe,” he rasps.

she nudges him playfully, then straightens up his tie for him before they go back into the party.

[inthe-dark-tonight]

Falling into My Sins

chapter one: back in the alleyway

dbf!joel x fem!reader series- loosely inspired by the song skin by soccer mommy

chapter 2 chapter 3 chapter 4 chapter 5 chapter 6 chapter 7

summary: it’s your first night out since moving back with your dad after graduating college. while at the bar you meet an attractive mystery man and end up hitting it off. things get heated when you convince him to dance with you.

word count: 2.7k

series rating: E (18+ mdni)

warnings: no outbreak AU, age gap (reader is in their 20s, Joel is in his 40s) alcohol consumption, light swearing, slight dubious consent (things get heated while drunk), pet names (sweetheart, babe, etc.), no use of y/n, no physical description of reader.

notes: this is my first time really writing anything so i’m very nervous to post this , i've also been working on one other fic but i decided to post this first. thank you for taking the time to read and any feed back is welcome & appreciated xo <3

also thank you so much to @shatteredbaby for proof reading ily so much bby, and @pr0ximamidnight for also proof reading, letting me ramble like a maniac and helping me with ideas ilysm. i appreciate you both so so so much <3

It’s your first weekend going out since you’ve moved back home with your dad. You’ve just graduated from the Art institute of Chicago in the spring, but your lease wasn’t up on your apartment until August so you stayed near campus until then. Now that you’re back, some of your old friends from high school offered to take you out as a sort of welcome home. You’re just finishing getting ready when you get a text from your friend Aya.

We’re here!! Hurry up Dee is getting impatient!

You roll your eyes and smile. Typical. You’re a bit nervous since you haven’t seen them in about a year, but you’re sure once you’re out it will feel like you weren’t even gone. You throw on a jacket and run down the stairs, grabbing your keys as you go.

“I’m leaving!” You call out.

“Have fun bud!” Your dad shouts from the other room.

Your parents had recently divorced while you were away, so it’s just you and your dad now. You feel kinda bad leaving him alone when you just got back, but you’ll make up for it.

You close the front door behind you and run down your front porch towards Aya’s car. As you get closer, the passenger window rolls down.

“Ahhhhh you’re back!!!” Your friend, Dee, yells. You laugh at her reaction and open the back door to the car.

“Hey!” You slide in and buckle your seat belt.

Aya turns around with one hand still on the wheel. “Long time no see! Tonight’s gonna be fun,” she says with a smile.

“We’re taking shots as soon as we get there,” Dee says with a sly smile and you laugh, leaning back fully into the seat as Aya drives, heading for downtown.

As soon as the three of you find a bar, Dee keeps her promise and orders you all shots and they send you to find a booth while they wait for the order. There aren’t many people in the bar yet since it’s only nine, but it’s slowly filling up. You look around the place, taking in the large bar that runs across one wall with stools gathered around it and across from it is the booth seating you’ve sat in. There are a few high top tables scattered around the perimeter of the bar, a pool table to the right of the door next to the large dance floor in the center that’s currently empty, and the sounds of eighties and nineties rock hits filling the large room.

As you’re looking around, the door to the bar opens and two men walk in. The first man has long dark curly hair, a patchy beard, and he’s wearing dark jeans paired with a tan jacket and brown boots. The other man has shorter dark hair, a similarly patchy beard streaked with gray, and he’s wearing dark jeans paired with a green flannel and brown boots. He’s quite handsome, you think – broader than the first man, his frame stretching the fabric of the flannel to its limit. Your eyes flick back up to his face, taking in the curve of his nose, the crease between his brows and dark brown eyes. When your eyes meet, he’s looking right at you and you immediately glance away, embarrassed that he caught you checking him out. When you dare to look at him again, his gaze is still locked on you.

“Okay, let’s do this!” Dee says as the girls approach the table with a round of shots and a drink for each of you.

Your eyes snap away from the man’s and you smile at them, grabbing a shot glass.

“To celebrate your return home,” Dee says, raising her glass for you to toast against.

You tilt your head back letting the cold liquid slide down. You close your eyes and wince as the sour flavor with the aftertaste of vodka that burns your throat. When you open your eyes again you’re met with the stranger’s warm brown eyes on you still, a shy smile on his face before he turns towards the bar and leans on the wooden counter. You set the glass down on the table and look back to your friends.

The three of you sip on your drinks for about thirty minutes or so, talking about school and catching up on life. At some point while you were all catching up, the bar switched to playing early 2000s music as more people came in. You find your eyes wandering towards the gorgeous man every few minutes, admiring his side profile, the way his hand is wrapped around his beer bottle and his shirt is rolled up to expose his forearms.

You all finish your drinks and Aya is pulling you and Dee onto the dance floor. “Come on!! I love this song!!!”

You don’t recognize the song, but you follow them onto the floor dancing and smiling as they sing along. You find yourself looking towards the bar again hoping to catch the man’s eye, but he’s gone.

“I’ll be back, I’m going to get another drink.” You say loudly over the music.

The girls just nod and keep singing along. You make your way through the crowd that’s formed in the place and find the bar. Your eyes are still scanning, looking for him, when all of a sudden someone comes up beside you, leaning onto the bar. From the corner of your eye you can tell who it is. You turn your head and it’s the mystery man. He’s even more attractive up close, a dimple on his right cheek as he smiles down at you, slight creases next to his eyes. Your eyes travel down towards his broad shoulders and the skin on his chest that’s showing where his shirt is unbuttoned.

“Hi.” the man says while smiling down at you. His voice is like honey, deep with a southern drawl.

Your lips slightly part as you hesitate for a second “Hi.” you finally say back.

“Can I buy you a drink?” He nods towards the bar.

You shake your head in agreement.

“What are you havin’, sweetheart?” He asks.

You clear your throat. “Whatever you’re having.” You smile.

“Hm.” his lip quirks up as his eyes roam your form. The bartender comes over and he orders two beers, then his eyes are back on you. “You here with friends?”

“Yeah uh, I was out of town, I just got back so we’re celebrating.” You decide to keep it vague.

“Well,” the bartender comes back with your beers and he hands one to you. “Welcome back.” He smirks, then you both take a sip.

You can’t help but watch the way his hand wraps around the bottle as he brings it up to meet his lips. You take a few sips of your beer, eyes still locked on him, then place it back on the counter. You’re feeling a little more confident now.

“What about you,” you place your elbow on the table and rest your chin in your hand, looking up at him. “Who are you here with?”

He looks over his shoulder into the crowd, an amused look on his face. “My brother.” You follow his eyes to see his brother sitting in a booth with a girl, leaning into her as they talk.

You giggle then turn back to the man. You’re noticing some similar features now that you know they’re brothers.

“You two come here every weekend chatting up girls and buying them drinks?” You bite your cheek and give him a teasing look.

He nods his head slowly looking down at the bar where he’s leaning on his forearms and lets out a small laugh. “Every now n’ then.” He looks back at you, a slight flush on his cheeks.

“Mmm bit of a player huh?” You lift your brow, teasing him some more.

He’s laughing again, it’s a deep chested laugh that makes his shoulders slightly bounce. “Wouldn’t say that, haven’t had much luck recently.” He looks from your eyes to your lips, then back to your eyes.

You nod your head taking another swig of your beer “So, what do you do for a living?” You ask nonchalantly.

“Uh,” he rubs the back of his neck. “I’m a contractor.” that explains his broad shoulders.

You bite your thumb and lean a little closer to him, arm brushing up against his. The alcohol is definitely taking an effect now. You’re checking him out again, and it’s not subtle. The way his shirt fits snug around his biceps, and his jeans fit his waist just right. He takes another sip of his beer and your eyes lock again.

Then suddenly a song you recognize comes on, Promiscuous by Nelly Furtado. You hear your friends squealing on the dance floor as the song starts, causing you to whip your head towards them then back to the mystery man.

“I’ll be right back.” You smile at him sweetly, finishing off your beer and setting the empty bottle on the table before leaving to join your friends.

You get out to the floor and they hold their hands out towards you, smiling and singing along to the song. You’re swaying your hips to the beat, mouthing the lyrics as you dance. Your hands are moving up and down your body, over the tights you’re wearing and slightly bunching up the short slip dress you have on. You’re lost in the music, then suddenly your eyes lock with the mystery man’s again, darkening as they watch you move. He’s leaning up against the bar, beer in one hand and the other in his front pocket.

‘Promiscuous boy you already know

That I’m all yours, what you waiting for?’

You’re mouthing the words, eyes never leaving his. You tilt your head to the side and give him a cheeky smile before moving your hands over your hips again. He lifts his hand out of his pocket, beckoning you back to him with his pointer finger. You shake your head no, and mimic his motion telling him to come to you. You turn away from him, back towards your friends, then glance at him over your shoulder and mouth, “Dance with me.”

A few moments later you feel a large warm hand run down your arm, and the back of a hand runs over the nape of your neck and down your shoulder before resting on your hips. You turn your head to look and it’s your mystery man, looking down at you with desire in his eyes. You turn around, still in his grasp, and wrap your arms around his neck, bringing your body flush to his.

You’re swaying with his hands on your hips now, grinding up against him. His tongue darts out to wet his lips and he leans his forehead against yours, taking in a deep breath. You tilt your head up, heavy lidded eyes scanning his face and your nose bumping his, your parted lips allowing a shared breath in the scant space between your mouths.

Then he’s kissing you, one hand on your hip lightly squeezing, the other resting on your cheek. He lets out a small groan and slips his tongue into your mouth, a mixture of mint and beer fill your senses. You gently pull the hair at the nape of his neck, causing him to let out a sigh.

“Sweetheart.” His voice sounds gravelly and deeper than before. “I can’t take my eyes off you.”

“Then don’t,” you say, so low it’s almost a whisper, just between the two of you.

You’re so close to him, you can feel his arousal straining against his pants as you press yourself against him.

“Come with me.” he looks down at you while trying to catch his breath.

He kisses you again, hand resting on your cheek. You nod approvingly as he pulls away. He doesn’t hesitate, grabbing you by the hand and dragging you off the dance floor towards the door. You notice his hand is much larger than yours, a little rough and calloused most likely from his job. He looks back at you a few times, and you just stare at his broad frame as you follow him. You look at the way his hair sits so perfectly, eyes wandering to his large forearms as he pulls you along behind him.

Moments later you two are outside and he’s pulling you around the side of the brick building. He backs you up against the wall, lips immediately crashing into yours. His palms rest on either side of your face, thumbs roughly caressing your cheeks like he just can’t get enough.

“You were killing me in there,” He’s towering over you, your hands clinging to his forearms.

“Was I? Couldn’t tell.” you smile slyly.

He laughs and shakes his head. “You’re somethin’ else babe, deadly.” he’s kissing you again, hands moving down your body to your waist.

You grab at the fabric of his shirt near his chest, trying desperately to pull him closer. His large hands find the hem of your dress and move up over your tights clad thighs. You moan into his mouth, heat already starting to build at your core. Moans and heavy breaths filling the air as you claw at his skin. You gently bite at his lower lip then slip your tongue into his mouth, deepening the kiss. As you lower your hands towards the waist of his jeans, tucking your fingers into the front and pulling his hips flush against yours, you feel him shudder. You let out a whine as you feel the imprint of his straining cock once again.

Then you hear the door to the bar bursting open and two familiar voices talking. “It’s okay, it’s okay, shhhh.”

You freeze as your lips leave Joel’s, wide eyes meeting his before stepping away from him to peer around the corner. He lets out a groan as he adjusts himself, one hand still on your hip trailing behind you as you near the corner of the building. Then you see Aya with her arm around Dee, rubbing her back. You stand up straight, pulling away from Joel.

“Oh my god?! What happened?” You sprint over to them.

“Oh thank god, we were looking everywhere for you.” Aya looks up at you. “Dee had too much to drink, we need to go.” She loops her arm into Dee’s. “I grabbed your things, where were you?”

Then you see her eyes wander to the broad older man shuffling up behind you and her eyes go wide. She leans in close to you and mouths “Oh my god”. You can feel your face heating up as you turn around to face him.

“You ladies need a ride home?” He looks down at you, concerned look on his face.

“Oh uh.” You turn back to Aya.

“No, we've got it covered-” she smiles at him.

“But thank you,” it comes out louder than intended. “I appreciate it,” taking a step closer to him you whisper “And sorry…”

“Don’t worry about it, Killer.” He flashes a charming smile at you.

“Killer?” You laugh at the nickname and he nods his head.

“We gotta go!” Aya yells out to you.

You whip your head to look at her, then your eyes meet his again. “Well, it was nice meeting you, mystery man.” You give him one last look and go to turn around towards your friends. He gently grabs your shoulder, surprising you.

“Wait,” it comes out soft as he whips you around to face him again. “Can I at least have your number?”

You hesitate for a moment. “What, so you can add me to your roster?” You try to hold back a smile.

“C’mon.” he looks away shaking his head, a boyish smile plastered on his face.

“Give me your phone.” He looks back at you, relief in his eyes. Then he pulls it out of his pocket and hands it to you.

You type in your number and put your contact name as Killer. You hand him back his phone and quickly get on your tiptoes to kiss his cheek. His eyes go slightly wide, and then you’re turning away, running towards the car before he can say anything. As you grab your jacket and purse from your friend and slip into the car, you smile at him before closing the door.

You watch him through the window standing there with his hands in his pockets as the car pulls away. Your mystery man, you hope to see him again.

ty for reading xo

tagging a few moots but np! anyone who wants to be tagged in the next one let me know :)

@nostalxgic @ilovepedro @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @beskarandblasters @jenispunk @tieronecrush @joelsversion @pedrospartner @canseethebrushstrokes @scrambledslut @isitmeulookin4 @tinygarbage <3

[sgt-scottymoreau]

Lesson of life

Summary: Everyone has their way to learn what Death is. What are the implication of this stage in life that can come at any moment without a warning. But not everyone learn it at the same stage og their life, some ealier than others. More importantly, not everyone handle it the same..

Warning: Mention/Talk of death, description of panic attack

Words: 2.1k // AO3 // Masterlist

A/N: Ok back to the regular schedule, if there's even one lol Anyway I have a few fics to post either from the main serie or the AU, it just recently I didn't had much the heart to post them. Or even write anything... I have a few ideas why and I really hope it will get better. Anyway, enjoy some angsty fic <3 (Likes are appreciated but reblogs are loved!)

"How do you do it?" Gaz asked.

"Do what?" Scotty raised an eyebrow. They were all relaxing in the common room waiting for Price to finish his debriefing before going out for a drink. 

"Be so." He gestured his hand in all directions. "So you. So calm around death? I know with our work we need nerves of steel, but never heard you complain about anything."

"Yeah." Soap chimed in. "We all have our nightmares, you don't have any?"

She weakly smiled. "I do have mine. I just learn to cope with them. Truth is, I learned at a young age what death really meant." 

Scotty saw Soap and Gaz on the edge of their seats, ready for a little story. Ghost didn't show much interest, but his head had turned in her direction as well. She knew his scars by now, he did not know hers. Scotty let out a sigh. "Ok, so the day I learned about the army and death, the day I hit a reality check I was around 7-8…"

*****

Like every time before, Suzanne would bring her girls to the base when their father would be back from his deployment. As usual, he would always be happy to see them, despite the tiredness, the arching muscles, the hard work, it always paid off to see his two girls with a smile. He would have his arms wide open ready to receive the blowing hugs from them. But also be ready to answer Camille's billion questions about what happened and what did he do. Henri loved her innocence about all he had to go through and hoped to never break her ideas. Even if deep down he knew he should be doing so since she started to show a lot of interest in military life. To Suzanne's despair. 

Of course, Henri was never alone on his way back. More than a decade ago he enlisted with his best friend, Didier. 

The two men had gone through almost all their life together. As far as they could remember they have been there for each other since forever. Didier was a good friend of the family and someone Henri considered like a brother. Both men had no siblings and so found family in each other. Even in the army, they were placed together in the same unit, same mission and everything. It was to say they were a good team. To the girls he was known as Uncle Didier. Although he had a wife, he didn't have kids, yet. In the meantime he considered Camille and Gabrielle like his own. Just like Henri he would often get the warm welcome of Camille running toward him and jumping in his arms. This was the routine.

Till it wasn't. Until one day, it all changed. The four girls were waiting for their husband/father to show up in the flood of officers coming back. Camille was more restless than usual. It has been a while since her father and uncle left for so long and she was impatient to hear their story. Gabrielle was also excited, but kept a calmer state than her sister on the outside. Suzanne and Didier's wife were chatting, eyes looking through the crowd for them. The crowd eventually thinned and throughout the happy face, Suzanne saw it. A mile away, she could tell something was wrong with her husband. Normally, he did have his head up and was impatiently searching for his little girls. But today, his head remained down, his gaze avoided her when he caught Suzanne's eyes. Yet the worse was to come. Because Didier wasn't by his side. At first, the women thought it's because he was held behind by some superior or forgot something, and was late. But the look on Henri's face… 

"Gabrielle, Camille, stay here please." Suzanne told her kids with a tone they never heard before. The two girls looked at each other with confusion. Suzanne and Didier's wife ran to him. In the distance, Camille watched silently as the three adults spoke. She wanted to step in, but Gabrielle stopped her, reminding what their mother said. Camille frowned, not pleased that she couldn't see her father. Then she heard it. A scream, a wail filled with so much pain, it scared her. In the distance she saw Didier's wife holding onto her father, crying, shaking, begging. Her mother grabbed her by the shoulder as if she tried to calm her down, but the woman only fell on her knees. Camille pushed her sister's arm away and ran to her dad, who had seen her. Henri had a little idea of what she would ask and this wasn't the question the mourning woman needed to hear. He quickly crossed the distance between them to make sure his daughter wouldn’t be too close. 

"Dad! Where's Uncle Didier?" Camille asked once he had scooped her in his arm. Henri didn't have his usual smile, he looked different which made her worry. 

Henri didn't know how to bring this to her. She knew what death was, but not like this. She had been too young when her great-grandmother died to remember anything. Since then the family didn't had much loss. This would be the first she would be aware of it. He had to be careful of his words, but he also didn't want to shield her to the reality of things. "Uncle Didier…." His throat tightened. 

"Why Auntie Thérèse is crying?" Henri bit his lips feeling the tears coming up again. He grabbed her and hugged her tightly. He stroked her hair, his shoulders shaking under the silent cry. "Dad?" 

"I'm sorry, Tulip. Uncle Didier is not coming home."

"When he is coming back?" The innocence of children. Oh, he wished to have this again. 

*****

"When we got home, we had a long discussion about why he would never come back home." Scotty said, fidgeting with her fingers. "He explained what happened, not in detail, but vaguely what caused his death."

"Must have been hard." Gaz sympathized. "Losing anyone on the field is always a blow." They all agreed to this. 

"How did this affect you?" Ghost asked. He had been very silent but attentive the whole time. 

"I realized that war wasn't the fantasy idea I made up in my mind from my dad's story and the movies. We all knew this had been rough for my dad, but no one, not even myself realized how much it changed me." 

*****

She was on the playground, sitting on the bench, mindlessly dandling her legs. It had been a week since her dad came back and he had changed. Camille had listened to the grown up conversation in secret, when she was incapable of sleep. She heard all of her dad's sorrow. How her mother tried to support him. Everything resonated in her mind like a strange unharmonized symphony. As the days went by without seeing her dear uncle, reality just kept hitting her in the face all the time. Two kids came up to her, taking her out of her mind. "Cam, wanna play war with us?" 

"Yeah, okay." She didn't sound too sure, but it was usually her favorite game. Having someone in the military other kids looked at her for some stories and game ideas. Even if sometimes, Camille would tell them that it didn't work that way normally and it should be like this. In the end, they always had fun. 

And she did at first. The girl had to warm up a little to the game, but eventually got more into it. Till one of the kids pretended to die. In a way that resonated close to how her uncle did. All of a sudden, Cam froze. The stick she held as her 'gun' dropped in the ground. The dead kid was still laughing while on the ground, talking with the others. Her mind couldn't handle this. The kid got up, using his time as a dead soldier, to go grab a snack, when she grabbed him by the wrist. "No it doesn't work like that!" Her voice cracked under the pressure. 

"What are you talking about?" The boy frowned. 

"When you are dead you don't get up! It's not like that!" Her breathing grew faster, her eyes watered, her grip was almost painful on his wrist. "You don't come back home!" The last sentence came out in an almost cry. Every kid around stopped what they were doing and a nearby teacher was alerted by the noise. Camille let go of the boy and crouched on the ground as the tears flowed down, her breath was erratic. Her head felt so light, she couldn't feel her body. All she could do was cry and scream about not coming back home because that's death. Death means you don't exist, you are gone. The teacher called for help while he tried to focus on Camille who seemed to ignore him completely. Another teacher brought the other kids away. 

Camille eventually calmed down after ten minutes of intense emotions. She was resting in the infirmary, feeling so drained. The nurse was watching over her when her parents finally arrived. Suzanne was slightly panicked, she grabbed her daughter in her arms. "Are you okay, Tulip?" 

The little girl felt too exhausted to talk, so she nodded. Henri looked at his kid, guilt took him by the guts. Gabrielle was older and had been able to process some of the situation better because she had some memories of death in the family. But Camille was still young. This was a huge reality check. He took a seat on the small couch she was resting on. She looked at her father with glassy eyes. Suzanne understood that for now it was best to leave them two alone. The nurse followed the mother outside. Camille buried her face in her dad's chest. "I don't want you to die dad." She weakly let out. 

"Don't worry, I'll always come back." He hushed her with a kiss on the head. "Camille, listen. I want you to talk to me when you feel sad or afraid ok? Never be ashamed to come ask for help. Your mom and I will always be there and if we can't, we will find someone who can." 

"How do you do it? How can you be so calm when people die?"

Henri smiled weakly. "I'm maybe calm, but I'm still hurt. This is my job, we all know the risk. Didier knew them as well, but we love our job. We want to protect our country and save people. But when we lose a friend, it's always hard. That's the reality of things."

Camille hugged her father thigher. "I still don't want to lose you." Tears flowed back again, but this time she was just sad. No panic. 

He smiled. Henri could either keep going in circles with the reality of life or he could try to throw some humor to get her to think of something else right now. "I'll be with you till I'm so old and crazy, you will want to kick my ass because I ate all your favorite cookies!"

She stopped crying with a gasp. "No! You can't do that!"

"Oh I can and I will! No more cookies for you!" He tickled her. She laughed and told him to stop. 

*****

"After that I went to therapy a couple of times till they were able to work out with me all that happened. Eventually, I accepted this just like my dad and…. Here I am." She finished her story. 

"That's hell of a tale." Soap said. He gave her a pat on the shoulder. They all sympathized with her. Even Price who joined mid story gave her a calm smile. But life was still going and for now it was time to get some relaxing time at the pub. Gaz, Soap and Price left first. Scotty was about to get up and follow when Ghost stopped her. He grabbed her wrist and forced her to turn around to face him. 

"Do you still think about this often?" He asked calmly. His hand reached for her face and he brushed her cheek. She melted under his touch. 

"Not too much. I sometimes think about him and how he would be proud of who I became. He was a nice uncle. He would have liked you."

Ghost pulled her into his arms and she gladly accepted the hug. Even after all these years and the therapy, talking about this still leaves her with a lot of emotions. "Thanks for sharing your scars." He whispered. 

"About time I shared them with you. Maybe I should tell you about others." 

"You don't have to, love."

[lucidheart3]

I’m here with a small AU fic once again, this also belongs in my AU series

Pen Pals

"A letter?! Sis, come quick! It's from Toronto!"

A girl looking the same age as him shouts, snatching the piece of paper from the mail box. An older girl comes out, and Sonic bows down so that the bush before him hides him better.The younger girl gives her the letter, jumping up and down impatiently as the other rips the envelope and skims over the content, brows furrowed.

"What?" The younger asks, finally standing still. The other responds with squeels and embraces her, shouting for their parents.

"I'm accepted!" She cries with joy, and Sonic frowns.

"Who is this Toronto guy and why does it make them happy that he accepted her?" Sonic questions, his hand on his chin, then shrugs.

"Whatever.Good for them." He mutters,then the parents show up He doesn't watch the mother embrace her daughters, or doesn't hear the father declare they are going out to eat. He takes off, the wind quickly brushing off the leaves stuck on his quills. His feet take him to the house he spies on hangs out around the most, Donut Lord's home. Since the sun is still up, the house is empty save for that annoying golden furball Donut Lord smothers. Sonic has tried so many times to understand how a creature like that could be worth all that petting, taking to walks, and even cleaning it's poops.

"I'm totally cuter than it." He says, crossing his arms against his chest, pouting.He watches the dog run in circles in the room, then giggles.

"Maybe Donut Lord and Pretzel Lady like the dog because it is funny? Makes sense to me." Satisfied, he turns away from the window and zips to the entrance of the home, then clears his throat.

"Hello! I'm Sonic and I came here from Mobius! I've been living in Green Hills for four years! Promise I'm a friendly alien, no world domination or abduction plans attached! So...what do you say we hang out sometime? Like... really hang out? Not like...me being there and you being unaware of it?" He says, then deflates.

"It won't work!" He flails his arms, and his brows furrow. He starts walking in circles, his pupils locked on the points of his shoes.

"It shouldn't work, Sonic, Longclaw told you to stay hidden! How can you stay hidden if you talk to them?!" He forces his feet to turn away from the door. Just as he is about to run off, the mailbox in front of the house catches his eye. He can't supress the grin making it's way on his lips, and it takes all of his willpower to not shout with joy right then and there. He shuts his lips into a tight-lipped smile, and clenches his fists.

"Ha! I can write a letter!" He says, excitement filling his chest.His powers buzzing under his skin, he runs off to his cave with a jump to his step. For once, his gaze has a different purpose roaming around his cave than finding something to entertain himself. He manages to find a half-filled notebook he had found in a trash bin, couple of short pencils he can barely hold between his fingers and of course, his crayons. He pulls his bean bag chair in front of the makeshift table, then grabs his limited stationary.

"Okay! Let's begin! To Donut Lord? No, that won't do! What is his name? Hmm..." Sonic has never approached people close enough to hear their names except for Crazy Carl's, who keeps on shouting people to stop calling him that.

"What is his job? Cop? No,that isn't quite right. I've heard them call him... Ha! Sheriff!" To... Sheriff of the Green Hills!" He smiles to himself, then quickly moves on to writing.

Read the rest on AO3

[kathren-is-here]

Lil oc intro

Whoa- howdy there it’s been a hot minute whoops, completely forgot to post here

but might as well show of my second favorite oc I made yet 🕺🏻

Meet Brass (Ford) Buzzard! My lil guy!

he was shortly made after I kept on thinking about ideas for Brass Mirror (which I have yet to explain whoops) and I love him!!💖💖💖

Here’s some info on him!

So the story so far is Bradford goes behind Cassidy's back to make a clone hybrid child when he got the chance to, not sure what he was thinking, but it ended up resulting in an angry Cassidy, and he technically got what he wanted? A baby duck/vulture/thing! Cassidy eventually warms up to them both again but not after some heavy angst with Bradford :)

this is after the show events btw! Unless I made an Au that states otherwise!

He's super like his parents, loves to observe people and stuff, generally a quiet kid early on but love to talk about what he's currently into and loves asking questions,

As a little kid, he loves that stringy rubber fidget toy, he finds it fun to play with and it's for his sensory issues:)

He gets into reading at an early age, and his parents keep on getting new material for him to read to keep up his reading level that's always expanding (Cassidy wants to get one of those really long books but Bradford wants to save that for when he's older haha). When they couldn't get more reading material, Cassidy suggests teaching writing to him so they do just that, and so starts his fixation on writing.

He often tends to go out in the world as Cassidy tries to show him how the world works, funny, since Cassidy isn't from this world in the first place, but it works out.

He also likes going to his local library! And spends hours reading there. That's his go to safe space.

Cassidy tries to inadvertently teach him how to sneak and fight, by playing some games disguised as lessons with him!

He gets a music box he likes to listen to! It's entirely made out of un-melting ice! I wonder who gave him that who has full control over ice/water magic🤔 (definitely not Cassidy who I fail to explain him and his story so far whoops)

He loves going to the beach, playing in the sand and water, having enough space to do all sorts of stuff, wonderful!

As he grows up, he gets into Spells! Because Cassidy was partly known for making and using spells! But Brass is mostly interested on what words mean and what meaning they hold when it involves a spell, he just likes words!

Bradford is cautious of him learning spells (can you blame him), but trusts Cassidy enough for him to teach Brass about it and the history of spells. (Totally gonna reference Merlin haha)

He later learns the ins and outs of dulling and fighting with magic, Merlin style😎

Brass, does meet the McDucks eventually! I’m assuming this is after Cassidy finds out about them, so both of his parents try and keep him away from them, without telling him exactly.

he does pass by them once or twice while he’s reading in the local library, he tries to be nice and polite, but will quickly get impatient if they’re causing too much of a ruckus around him.

he actually meets Webby first! And just bc I can, I decided to do a little parallel with him, Bradford, Webby, and Scrooge!

after the kids invite brass over for some sort of gathering one day, they accidentally take him on and adventure! Which his is not too exited about at all. He finds them all overwhelming and a lot, after he leaves as a new rival/in their eyes an enemy, he meets three girls.

Turns out these girls already have beef with the kids over there, and were spying on them, Brass meets up with them and teams up with them!( I personally call them the fake clones haha) since they have a common rival to deal with.

after he teams up with them, he quickly finds out he likes being a leader! Actively working on solving problems and organizing against someone! Definitely a trait passed down by both parents.

I’m still figuring out future stuff but here’s what I got planned so far!

He’s really proficient with magic spells and casting and all that!

His hair gets nicer! Not as clean and tame when he was a baby, but definitely better than when he was a kid that's for sure

His hair gets nicer and longer!

And his feathers get darker! idk if I’m gonna keep the fade from his younger feathers though 🤔

Here’s a few alt designs for him I did! Since I’m running out of things to say!

I have a few more art pieces with him but that’s all for now! Just glad to get all his info into one post so far!

[dangraccoon]

To Rest

Day 19 ~ finding old messages ~ (Alt. Prompt)

Obi-Wan Kenobi

Word Count: 2685 because I am apparently incapable of writing little fics for these men Content: major character death, Cody's death, death from old age, Rex's death is mentioned, saying goodbye, 'in case I die' message, dinluke is mentioned don't at me, This is in the same au (guess it's an au now lmao) as day 11's Awake Now; I wouldn't say it's necessary to read that first, but it wouldn't hurt :)

Mando'a Guide: (there's a lot for this one) vode - siblings (brothers in this context, used to refer to the clones as a whole) ner riduur - my spouse Kote - glory; what I believe Cody's name was before it was misheard or simplified to Cody, and what he goes by in hiding ner jare'la alor - my reckless leader osik - dung/shit mesh'la - beautiful ner cyar'ad - my lover Ni su'cuyi, gar kyr'adyc, ni partayli, gar darasuum - Mandalorian ritual, followed by the repetition of loved ones' names. "I’m still alive, but you are dead. I remember you, so you are eternal." ner tranyc al'verde - my sunny commander ner nepareyc jetii - my impatient jedi

A quick author's note: I do not ship Rexsoka - I see them as having a very sibling-like bond and that is what I briefly portray in this fic. I don't care if you do ship them, that's your business, but please do not claim that small portion of this fic for that ship. Much love and respect, 川💛

Ever since he’d met Cody, Obi-Wan knew their time would be limited. 

He knew that one or both of them could easily die on the battlefield.

He knew that if they won the war, he’d go back to his council duties, and the Republic would do with Cody and his as it pleased.

He knew that if they lost, they’d both likely be executed.

Regardless, he knew that it was them. Every time he was near the man, it felt like the Force was crying out in pure joy. They could not truly be together, but they’d always promised each other that they would be. “After the war, Obi. After the war. I promise.”

But then the war did end. Neither faction seemed to win, but the Jedi Order–the closest thing Obi-Wan had to a family–lost, slain by the millions of soldiers who bore the same face, but such different, beautiful, unique, bright lights in the Force. 

The vode betrayed the Jedi, but Obi-Wan knew now that it wasn’t their fault; the Sith had used their bodies like puppets, then discarded them once they were done playing with them.

Cody finding him on Tatooine had shaken him, violently. After all, if the Empire knew where he was, what was to stop them from finding Luke or Leia?

But Cody wasn’t here looking for him–or at least he didn’t know why he was here–but he found him all the same. And just like that, despite the time that had passed, it was them again. That magnetic pull never failed, and that sweet, whispered promise always held true.

Although Obi-Wan still felt the weight of grief on his shoulders, everything seemed less dismal with his husband. Ner riduur, as Cody always hummed in his ear.

Seeing Kote bring Obi-Wan–or Ben as he now went–out of the dark, lonely existence he’d subjected himself to, lightened Owen and Beru’s hearts, somewhat, as well. Ben and Kote were weekly dinner guests at the Lars homestead.

Kote would take odd jobs in Mos Taike, then he’d come home and continue his construction of their home. 

They built a loving home within each other as well. Sure, they’d had their disagreements; they’d bicker, but ultimately, one would approach the other with tea and they’d simply talk like they always had.

It didn’t take long for time to catch up to them, however. The first clue was when Kote had slipped down the few stairs into their living room. He’d managed to catch himself on the wall, but his gait had never been quite the same since.

When Ben remarked on Kote’s waning agility, Kote snarked back “Next year we’re technically the same age, you know.”

His hearing went next. Ben had to raise his speaking volume more and more as the years passed. Kote would pretend he’d not been paying attention, or would simply agree when he didn’t hear everything Ben had said. After recording a holo of his louder and louder attempts to gain Kote’s attention, however, Ben was able to convince him to use a hearing aid.

Despite what it indicated, Ben couldn’t say Kote’s need for reading glasses truly bothered him. Kote would use it to his advantage, of course, putting them on even if he didn’t actually require them at the moment, just to see Ben squirm in his seat.

His hair eventually started to gray, although anytime Ben brought it up, Kote would just wave it off as it being “a delayed stress response from worrying about you, ner jare’la alor”.

The creases at the corners of his eyes and mouth deepened, his reaction times slowed, and he seemed to grow cold more easily, but the true sign was when he fell.

Kote had somehow–probably with the use of his reading glasses and that crooked smirk–convinced Ben that he would be fine to fight at Rex’s side on Endor. Ben cursed himself for agreeing to bring him to that battle.

“It’ll be just like old times, Obi,” he’d laughed. Ben smiled and snarked at him, pretending not to notice that Kote had again forgotten they’d been going by ‘Ben’ and ‘Kote’ since the end of the Clone Wars. 

And then he’d been hurt. One lucky shot to his bad leg and he was down. He would use a repulsorlift chair for the rest of his life.

They were outside one night, Ben’s head resting on Kote’s knee, gazing up at the stars when Kote finally acknowledged what was happening to him.

“How are you feeling?” Ben asked.

“Sort of…odd,” Kote answered.

“‘Odd’ how?”

“Think that advanced aging osik is catchin’ up to me, Obi,” he hummed.

“You think so?” Ben had answered. There was no sarcasm, no negativity in it.

“You know it is, mesh’la,” he’d chuckled. “I see the way you look at me sometimes.”

“I don’t–”

“When I forget, or when I can’t hear you,” Kote had continued, paying no mind to Ben’s protests as he carded his fingers through graying auburn hair. “You get that same look in your eyes like I’m gonna crumble to dust the second you touch me.”

Ben looked up at him, his wonderful, charming riduur. “It’s not that,” he said, pointedly ignoring the way his eyes began to well up. “I just–” he sighed. “Would you believe that I’m scared to lose you?” His hand gripped the fabric of Kote’s pants. “After all this time and everything we’ve been through, I can’t imagine being alone anymore.”

Kote hummed. “I’d believe it, though I doubt you’d ever be alone,” he answered after a moment. “Do you know what today is?” 

Ben lifted his head to look up at him. His confusion and slight concern must have been written plainly on his face. Or, perhaps, Kote could read Ben’s expressions like they were his own.

“Humor me,” he chuckled. 

Ben frowned. “Zhellday.”

Kote laughed, the soft sound coiling around Ben’s heart like it always had. “Well, yes, I suppose it is, but there’s something I find special about today.” He smirked at his husband, who in return, narrowed his eyes suspiciously.

“33 years ago, Commander CC-2224–also known as ‘Cody’–of the Grand Army of the Republic was assigned to the 212th Attack Battalion, under the command of Jedi Master General Obi-Wan Kenobi,” Kote said, his voice taking on a certain commanding air to it that Ben hadn’t heard in quite some time.

“Kote,” he smiled. 

“33 years ago today, I walked onto the bridge of the Negotiator, scared out of my wits–”

“Oh, you were not.”

“I was! The only Jedi I’d ever met before that was General Ti!”

Ben laughed, despite that old heartache that never seemed to fade. “Oh, well I suppose that’s understandable then. Shaak was kind, but terrifying in all the right ways.”

“Exactly,” Kote grinned. “When I got to the bridge, I thought there must’ve been some kind of mistake.”

“Did you now?” Ben raised a brow, curious to see where this was headed.

“Oh definitely. I thought they were sending me out with a Jedi Master, not a youngling.”

Ben chuckled. “Please, ner cyar’ad. Flattery won’t get you very far with the state of my knees these days.”

Kote groaned. “It was worth a shot,” he snickered.

Ben rolled his eyes. “What did you really think?”

Kote’s mischievous grin faded into the same confident, trusting smile that had bewitched Ben all those years ago. “I thought I was the luckiest son of a bantha in the whole army.”

Ben laughed as they went back inside to their bed. They lay in each other’s arms, talking, laughing, and smiling until they nodded off to sleep.

When Ben awoke, he found that Kote had not. Ben had seen plenty of death in his long life, but he’d never seen anyone still smiling after they’d passed.

He’d wept for quite some time, holding Kote’s cold hand in his, laying soft kisses on his forehead. He was certain that he’d sat there for far longer than he should have. He needed to make arrangements. He had people to inform. 

But he’d never given himself the time to grieve before. It had always been a luxury he could never afford.

His voice shook as he remembered those words they’d always uttered together. “Ni su'cuyi, gar kyr'adyc, ni partayli, gar darasuum. Kote, ner tranyc al’verde.”

He sat almost perfectly still until somewhere around noon. He kissed his husband’s forehead one more time, before drawing their bedsheets over him once more.

His comm in hand, he struggled to find the strength to decide who to call first.

He looked back towards the bedroom where his riduur lay, and the realization washed over him. His husband was right; he’d never truly be alone.

The holo pinged a few times before a soft voice and smiling face came over the comm. “Master Obi-Wan,” Ahsoka hummed over the holo. “Are you okay?”

“I-I’m–” he mumbled. “It’s Ko– Cody.”

Realization stole over his old friend. “Oh, Obi-Wan,” she whispered. “I’m so sorry.”

“Do you–” he cleared his throat. “Do you still keep in contact with Rex? Is he…?”

“He passed on a couple days ago,” Ahsoka murmured. “At least they can walk with each other.”

Ben nodded. “How are you holding up? Were you there?” 

“He called about a week ago,” Ahsoka nodded. “Said he felt odd. I got there and a few days later he passed in his sleep.”

“How strange,” he hummed. “Cody said something similar last night.”

“Clone thing, you think?” she said. Despite all her years, Ben could still hear that curious lilt in her voice, the one that he knew meant research and investigation.

“Who’s to say, dear one?” Ben smiled wearily as he watched her focus drift. “Ahsoka, do you keep frequent contact with Luke? I fear he will be devastated; Kote was always his favorite,” he sighed. “After ‘Auntie Soka’, of course,” he added.

“I just spoke with him yesterday. He was taking Din and Grogu to meet Owen and Beru,” she said.

“That should be quite interesting,” he mused. “I suppose I’ll tell him after he arrives then. I should contact Leia soon, though.”

“I’m certain she’ll be there in a heartbeat.”

Ben waved a hand in dismissal. “She’s quite busy now, I doubt she’ll have any time for me.”

Ahsoka gave him a look of disbelief. “Sure, Master. But are you–” she hesitated, biting her lip.

Ben eyed her holoimage, one brow raised. 

“Are you going to tell him?” she finally asked.

Ben’s brow furrowed. “You know he doesn’t want to hear from me.”

“Master,” she said, her eyes glancing off to the side. “Maybe he needs you more than you think. Maybe you need each other.”

Ben was overcome with the feeling that she wasn’t only speaking to him. He decided against saying anything about it though. “I’m sure he has my comm number restricted. Perhaps you can relay the news as a favor to your old grandmaster?”

She chuckled but rolled her eyes. “I will, Master Obi-Wan. Please take care of yourself. Let me know if there is anything you need.”

“Thank you, Ahsoka,” he said, bowing his head. “Just hearing your voice helps.”

“May the Force be with you, Master.”

“You as well.”

Ben stared at the projector for a long moment before pressing in another number.

“Uncle Ben!” Leia smiled. “How have you been?”

He opened his mouth to answer but found the words caught in his throat.

Leia’s face fell. “When?”

Ben swallowed. “At some point last night. I woke up and…he was gone.”

“Okay,” Leia nodded. “Okay. I will be there–”

“Leia–”

“–in two days–no, probably three. Do you know where Luke is?”

“Ahsoka said he was en route to Tatooine regardless, but he doesn’t–”

“Good. He’ll be with you until I get there. Auntie Soka is coming, right?”

“I don’t think–”

“I’ll call and make sure.”

“Leia, I don’t think this is really necessary–”

“Uncle Ben, stop. You know we loved Kote,” she said, her determined scowl fading in favor of a sympathetic smile. “He was as much family to us as you are. We all want to be there for you, understand?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Ben said, an amused smile pulling at his lips.

“Three days, Ben,” she repeated. “I’ll be there.”

“Alright, Leia,” he nodded.

He ended the holo after she ran out of range, calling after her son, whom he’d been honored to have named after him, but was likely causing some sort of chaos. He was reminded of the child’s grandfather.

He’d lost track of all time, shortly after that. He went about the house, doing the tasks he’d normally do. He tended the few plants he’d kept in the hydroponic pots Kote had built him, ate the ration packs they’d have more and more with their increased age, napped on the couch, made himself a cup of tea–though he’d made far too much to begin with, unaccustomed to serving one–and decided to go through an old box Kote had stored away in the basement a few years back.

The sand and cobweb-covered container was relatively small. He couldn’t imagine what could’ve given it the weight it held. Perhaps it’s my age, he joked to himself. He wished he could hear the sardonic reply he was sure his husband would have given.

When he finally opened the box, he was somewhat surprised to see about a few data sticks.

He brought them up to their console. They were labeled with Kote’s regulation-perfect handwriting, with numbers. He found the one labeled ‘1’ and plugged it in.

Ben was almost startled as the holo-projector began to play. Standing before him was his husband, looking young, handsome, and healthy.

“Hello Ben,” he said, his smile soft and reassuring. 

He’d almost forgotten what his riduur sounded like so long ago before time and age had begun to weigh into that warm baritone. With a start, Ben realized he’d probably recorded this sometime right around their wedding.

Holo-Kote chuckled. “Think we’d both be lying if we said we didn’t know what this was. One way or another, I’m gone. Maybe the Empire caught up with me or maybe we’ve had a long life together. Regardless, I hope you know that you… you are everything to me.

“I don’t know if I believe those old stories about ‘soulmates’, and even if I did, I’m not so sure clones like me would even have one, but I think–no, I know–that if I did, it’s you.

“You’re probably crying now,” Holo-Kote grinned, wiping his own budding tears away. 

Ben touched his cheek. “Right as always, my dear,” he whispered.

“Anyway, I made this just to keep that stubborn brain of yours from believing anything but this; I love you, Obi-Wan Kenobi. I have from the moment I met you and I will never stop. I married you today and by the Maker, I will do anything and everything within my power to live up to the love you give me. I can only hope that by the time you watch this, I’ll have proven myself worthy of your love.

“I love you, Obi. And please never forget tha–”

“Kote?” Ben heard himself call from another room. “My dear, I believe it’s high time that you get in here and perform your husbandly duties.”

Ben couldn’t help but bark out a laugh at his younger self. He remembered that night well; Kote had, in fact, performed. He wiped his tears away on his sleeve.

“I’ll be right in, ner nepareyc jetii,” Kote smiled off to the side, he then looked back at the holo-recorder. “Maker, I hope the recorder picked that up. In case I don’t get the chance to tell you one last time before I go– you are the partner of my days, the companion of my heart, and the friend of my life. I love you, ner riduur. Goodbye… for now.”

The holo froze at the end, the image of his husband smiling as he pressed the button to end the recording would be etched in his heart for the rest of his days.

« Previous Day Next Day »

Thanks for reading! - River

Whumptober 2024 Masterlist DangRaccoon Masterlist Taglist Form Read on AO3

Tags: @nekotaetae @lokigirlszendaya @get-wr3ckered @jediknightjana @idoubleswearimawriter @lucyysthings @unstable-kiwi @6oceansofmoons @l3xi3luv @savebytheodoresnonjosestuff @winter-phoenix1995 @nomercyforthewarrior @Padawancat97 @flowered-bicycles @error6gendernotfound @techs-goggles9902

[stellar-constellations]

Requests rules masterlist!

My inbox is OPEN, if you wish to request, there are certain rules!

I WILL WRITE:

Fluff

Hurt/comfort

Platonic

Female reader

G/N reader

Yanderes (whether it'd be yandere x yandere, or yandere x willing! darling) {Soon, I will post my own yandere OC's for darling's}

Gore

Blood

Girl x Girl

Boy x Girl

Dead Dove

I WILL NOT WRITE:

Big age gaps (5 years or more)

Any incest or stepcest whatsoever

Bodily fluids such as piss or scat

Pedophilia

Student x teacher

Pure angst

Smut/NSFW

Boy x Boy (I have no experience in writing this)

Sex worker or prostitution

OC's or reader's too specific (strict appearance, closed backstories with little to work with, etc) when it comes to REQUESTS, SERIES are a different story!

Polyamorous relationships

Drugs, including weed, marijuana, or any other illegal substances (alcohol is fine).

Rape/detailed descriptions of sexual assault.

More can be added if needed to. If you're not sure that I take a certain request because your category isn't on this list, feel free to request anyways! I read ALL of my requests, but I will delete those that don't follow my rules and I'll update my rulebook if necessary.

REQUESTS WILL BE WORKED ON AND UPLOADED AT ANY TIME, INCLUDING FROM DAYS TO WEEKS (I apologize but I have a life outside writing and I will not jeopardize my mental health for writing I don't get paid for).

Important: I do feel like I need to address this, but I don't accept requests that have already been done by other people. I follow tags and see the same exact requests, copied and pasted, onto other blogs and I personally just feel that it's a little disrespectful to send a request to multiple different people for the same exact thing. I could just be sensitive, but I feel like there's no point writing it if it's already been done.

I understand the requestors could potentially be looking for different takes of the request, or they could just be spamming any account looking for anyone to take their request and complete it. I'm someone who writes for myself, and I like the requests and ideas my followers give me because they're special and unique, and not like any other requests; is what I wish for it to be like.

With the exact same requests and ideas circling around, it just feels like your writing is a bit downgraded. That anyone can do better; which I'm not saying I'm the best, but I like having my work acknowledged since I take the time out of my day to complete them. It feels like your work gets placed on the back burner of other writings pertaining the same exact request or very similar to. It just feels competitive; I'm not here for first prize or fame.

Everyone writes unique. I'm not saying that all zombie AU's are all the same requests with the same ideas and such; there's different executions and many different ideas that can turn that into your own special writing. I'm saying that the exact same requests like "Short woman with purple hair and yellow eyes meets (so-so) in a coffee shop and they get each others number and hang out at Hot Topic" (I just made that up at the top of my head, I'm not trying to target anyone); then seeing that exact request, word from word, on five other blogs, just feels like you wasted your time.

Perhaps I'm just asking too much considering this is the internet, people are going to do what they want. And I kind of see myself as being a bitch saying this because I KNOW I take forever to write, I know my writing is really long in word count and in posting, that I have no posting schedule or anything. I'm sorry for that, I really do wish I had more time in the day to focus on my hobbies and this blog; but you can't just ask to stop time, now can you?

I understand you can become impatient with me, or change your mind about me writing; in that case, please just pop in my messages and say you want the request cancelled. You don't have to tell me that you're impatient or that you want someone else to do it; I won't shame you for it.

Thank you for reading. Let this be a reminder that I don't accept requests others have done. Remember, this is just my opinion and views on such topics. We don't live long enough to listen to bullshit or hate in the comments, so I'll just ignore your comment or delete it if someone is being rude because it's MY opinion, not yours. If you don't like my opinion, scroll.

[morcai]

Your current fave blorbo for the headcanon meme!

but i have so many favorite blorbos :pleading: but since i'm writing a fic with him, and he is a Core Blorbo, let's talk about Xanxus di Vongola

he's a Loyalty Guy! no one is surprised by this being one of my core xanxus headcanons, but he's almost unshakeable once he's sworn to someone. almost. it can be fucked up, and if you fuck it up, you're boned. @ timoteo di vongola: square up. But while his loyalty is given, he'll do anything. He will complain, though. He's that variation of the rotten work meme--he'll do it, but christ alive.

one of his easiest meditation tricks to kill time while working is to completely strip, clean and reassemble his X-Guns in his head.

One day after Tsuna is actually in charge of the Vongola, he definitely storms into the manor and goes "here's all your security vulnerabilities, fix them or we can do Cradle round two." Tsuna was touched. Hayato blew several gaskets.

It's always one of my Tsuna/&Xanxus headcanons that Tsuna sometimes escapes the Vongola mansion to lie on the couch in Xanxus's office and bitch or nap or just be Not In Charge for a while. Xanxus complains endlessly about this. Tsuna stopped for a while once, and Xanxus became so fucking unbearable that there was a whole game of Telephone (Squalo -> Takeshi -> Tsuna) about "please whatever happened stop it, he's Awful to live with right now"

He and Tsuna have the same favorite whiskey. They developed this taste independently, and Xanxus drinks it neat while Tsuna prefers it on the rocks.

Fencing AU: he's a saberist. known for hitting hard, he's definitely from a school that thinks you should make sure the ref calls for you by having your opponent flinch. If he's fencing kids, all that goes away, and it's all very precisely metered, but up against people in his age range, you know when he hits you.

He can cook! he's actually really good at it. When he was a weird out of place little preteen, he liked to hide in the kitchens of the Vongola manor, and eventually the head cook (Erica Martelli) put a knife in his hands and said if he was going to lurk he should be helpful. She's been retired from working for the Vongola for most of two decades now, but Xanxus keeps an eye out on her

The only person he trusts to cut his hair is Lussuria, but the process of him actually GETTING a haircut is fraught every time. there's lots of fire and yelling.

His handwriting is very narrow and slanted, with a constant sense of impatience. he's also a deft hand at sketching? he doesn't do it much, but his ability to render things he's seen quickly, cleanly and recognizably startles a lot of people when they first experience it.

he's very good with money, and keeps a very close eye on both his own personal finances and the Varia's. A certain amount of this comes from his childhood, but he's also just extremely good with numbers and he finds the accounting soothing. the varia books are scrupulously kept, it's a little eerie.

[kimwexlers-brownhair]

Shiv and Misty could be such a power couple for real, Misty has so much of what Shiv loves about Tom while also being content to get kicked as long as she can always come back. Question is how they would get together, but maybe in school when Misty caught on that Shiv didn't have any real friends.

I desperately want to write a Shiv/Yellowjackets au, but I kind of want to wait until the show is done so I can have a better picture of just what the girls brought with them out of the wilderness. But I'm also super impatient, so I may start something anyhow and add to it as the show progresses.

Anyway, that's a roundabout way of saying I'm using your ask as an excuse to dump a half fic/half meta snippet as I work it all out in my mind.

Instead of a New Jersey public school, this would have to be an upscale New York private school, because otherwise no way would Logan let his Pinky attend. So in this au, Misty's family would have to be at least a little bit loaded for her to afford to go there. It doesn't help her lack of popularity and friends at all, but she does have a little money. Ooh, unless she's there on a scholarship!

Shiv is by far the richest girl, taking Lottie's place in that regard. I'm going to age Shiv up just a tiny bit from Sarah Snook, giving her a birth year of 1985. So it would place all this around 2002/2003.

Anyway, it all starts when Misty is approaching the girls in the hallway before the bell rings, handing out invitations to her birthday party. So far, the same laughter as always, the same little digs that she deliberately ignores. Her heart skips a beat when she sees Siobhan Freaking Roy getting books out of her locker. The richest, smartest, most beautiful girl in the school (that shiny hair! Those eyes! That smile!). Shiv doesn't hang out with any of the other girls that much, not even the ones on her team. She's so...aloof, alone, but on purpose (right?), unlike Misty. And she actually engages with their teachers in History, English, and Poli-Sci, just like Misty. She'd never called Misty up to ask her if she did anal and laugh at her. She ignored her, because why wouldn't she?

But maybe this is the day that changes everything.

"Hi Shiv! Would you like to come to my birthday party on Saturday? I'm baking a funfetti cake. And my mom says we can use the pool! We can" --

But what Misty doesn't know is that Shiv is fuming. She had a really ugly morning with her brothers.

Since joining the Yellowjackets, she's been ever more the apple of Logan's eye. He's even come to matches (not once has he attended any of Ken or Rome's few after school events). He'd embarrass her from the sidelines when his inner Hibs fan comes out, if she weren't just so thrilled he's there. He usually never stays through the whole match because as always, something comes up at work. But he will often play the obliging king and pay for the girls to get pizza after. The girls start teasing Shiv by saying "Thank you, Mr. Roy" in unison whenever word comes down their dinner is covered.

Nothing fills Shiv with more fierce joy than after winning a match, feeling her father's hand on her shoulder, giving it a squeeze. Seeing that fond twinkle in his eyes. "You did good, Pinky."

But there's a flipside to all that. A flipside Kendall and Roman enlightened her on this morning.

Logan had actually eaten some of his breakfast with them. Kendall was home from college for conferences. Roman was done with military school, and was half-heartedly working on college applications ("Why do I even have to do this? I could send my dookie wrapped in the application and they'd still give a Roy son admission.").

Their father scoffed as usual when Ken tried to talk to him about his econ class. He'd dart a withering glance at Rome whenever he'd giggle in that high voice. But again that light in his eyes when his gaze fell on Shiv. "So what's that idiot Scott got planned for today's match? He has no fucking clue about form. When is Martinez going to get his head out of his ass and actually coach you girls, for Chrissake?"

Of course he didn't stay for the whole breakfast. He glanced at his watch after grilling Shiv and left for the office.

Shiv was left with her brothers' dark dead eyes staring her down.

"What?"

"You're real cute, Shiv, y'know? Daddy's shiny little bait he dangles over our heads."

"Fuck you, Ken. What does that even mean?"

Roman snorted. "Come on Shiv. You know why Dad puts on this big fucking display whenever we're all together, right?"

Kendall laughed into his coffee. "No, she doesn't."

Shiv's neck and face muscles tightened. She was on the lookout now, on the defense. "Know what? Just fucking say what you mean."

"Aw Shivy," Ken laughed in that stupid sinister way that really gets under her skin. "He's using you to get at Roman and me. I mean, he doesn't really take you seriously, you get that, right? But he plays it all up because he thinks that will make me and Roman fuckin', I don't know, start wrestling for his attention or something."

Roman imitated Logan's Canadian-Scottish brogue. "If this pair of dumb walking tits can kick a ball, you two pricks can stop jerking it for two minutes to do something manly, manly, dirt, blood, fuck, fuck, fuckety fuck." He took a delicate sip of his orange juice. "And so on."

Shiv heard buzzing in her head. Buzz, buzz, buzz, buzz...

"That's the most paranoid, deranged shit I've ever...what, did he say that?"

Roman and Kendall didn't reply. Instead, they gave her that look.

Her breath hitched.

It was the look on her father's face just before he left for the office. He'd given it to the boys. Shiv ignored it at the time, but now she knew...

He'd raised his eyebrows at them, then pointed his gaze toward Shiv. As if telling them, look at her. Look. Your little sister. What are you going to do about it?

The blood rushed to her face. She pushed her plate away and grabbed her backpack. "You don't know what you're talking about."

She saw murder when they laughed as she rushed away.

Assholes.

The buzzing and the blood and the murder follow her to her locker, so when she sees Misty fucking Quigley staring at her with those stupid fucking saucer eyes like a puppy with rabies --

She laughs the same laugh as Kendall and Roman. "Oh, yeah, Misty. I would love to come. I would just love nothing more than to go sunbathing with you in your Little Mermaid one piece and eat your clown cake. But, see, I've got something I'd rather do that day, which is to get as far away as possible from that shit show. Don't worry, I'm sure Teen Vogue will cover the whole thing, talk all about your custom Lisa Frank sweater dress."

She slams her locker door.

Then she sees Misty's face. It doesn't change expression, but Shiv sees the blood drain away.

Like how she felt this morning.

But Misty bravely swallows. That's not the worst thing she's ever heard. Not at all. It's okay. It'll really be okay. She'll just throw away all the rest of her invitations and try to grab one of the pigeons pecking at crumbs outside --

"Ah, shit."

Misty turns around. Shiv's eyes are closed and she shakes her head. "I'm sorry, Misty. That was -- that was horrible. Awful. Bad. Whatever. I'm...yeah, I'm really sorry." She opens her eyes and they're looking directly into Misty's, Misty's, and they're-- beautiful. And kind. "Just -- I hope you have a nice party."

Misty's had prank calls, filthy and degrading, had guys knock her science fair volcano out of her arms, had girls who've said things that Shiv's insult couldn't even touch.

None of them ever apologized.

She stands in the middle of the hall, watching Shiv walk away.

The most beautiful, intelligent, kind girl in the whole world.

The next day Misty asks Coach Scott if she can be the team's equipment manager.

[lookbluesoup]

OC tag game

Tagged by: @sundered-souls and @briar-ffxiv , thank you! :D

Favorite OC: Nate/Nahte! He's got a ton of different AUs across SO many genres and games!

Oldest OC: Of my currently active "main" OCs, Nahte! He was vaguely concepted in 2015. Since 2018 or so he's been a developed character across a bunch of AUs, meaning he's been consistently active longer than any other OC I can remember. And he's showing no signs of stopping LOL

The first OC I ever remember making was somewhere around 4th grade, a badass rougish hero girl named Rain. She had a piebald horse that was some rare magical Arabian-esque breed faster than any other. I was so creative. But I had a lot of fun with her.

Actually wait no. I remember making up a story about a parrot when I was like. 6. I remember drawing him and asking my cousin to help me write down a story about the parrot finding bugs to eat and then going to sleep on a vine. I guess if we're being technical... that counts.

ANYWAY age-wise, Lyrha is the oldest of the xiv crew! She's already in her 20s when ARR starts; Nahte was only 18 at the time and Tsimh barely above him at 19.

Newest OC: Orion, my Owlin cryptid hunter! (art by Grimmla) But I did also recently create a ffxiv version of one of my older RP characters, Rhaegan! So not "new new", but still new!

Meanest OC: Of my most active OCs... Well, also Rhaegan LOL

Softest OC: Louis de Borel. He's baby.

Most Aloof/Standoffish OC: Rhaegan >>

Dumbest (Affectionate) OC: Nahte. He's not dumb but he's a dumbass. He's a cat.

Dumbest (Derogatory) OC: I guess... Elisabet? I don't know if any of my OCs are really dumb but she probably spends the least amount of time thinking things through LMFAO

Smartest OC: I'd actually put this at a tie between Nahte and Lyrha. Nahte is incredibly adept at mathematics and arcanima, even able to maintain two summons at a time, and was formally educated - he can keep up with all that scholarly talk. He knows how to carry himself like a gentleman. He's always thinking a few steps ahead.

Lyrha's got no formal education, her manners are... well, all but nonexistent, a lot of the time. She's frequently impatient. But she is just as smart. It's a huge part of why she even survived growing up under a black flag. Though she might not understand all the Sharlayan jargon, she is adept at her own areas of expertise and picks up the basics of new information quickly. You underestimate her perception at your peril.

Horniest OC: Lyrha lol While she's pickier these days than you might expect given her flirtatiousness, she's easily riled up and can really give her partners a workout trying to sate her at times

OC You'd Bang: Well. I think Nahte would be the most emotionally fulfilling to sleep with. He doesn't do one-night stands either, and that appeals to my demi ass. Being said, I find most of my OCs attractive and enjoy seeing them in smutty situations, even if I wouldn't want to bang them irl. I'm content to be a voyeur lmfao

OC You'd Be Best Friends With IRL: I actually... am not sure? I'm pretty shy. I'd like to be friends with most of my characters. I'd probably have the best chance at being friends with Nahte or Louis.

Tagging: @boggleoflight @ronqueesha and you! Reading this!!! Do it!!!

[f-f-friend]

Last Ten Opening Lines

Rules: post the first sentence of your last ten fics. If you haven’t written ten fics, share as many first-sentences as you have.

It's been a while since I published fic so let's see what I've got! Tagged by my love @wifiwuxians

1. Macau has not seen his brother in weeks. – maybe we can play house for the weekend [VegasPete, KinnPorsche the Series, WIP. 8.6k words so far]

2. You fall in love with a tornado. This is called a whirlwind romance. – whirlwind [Blossom Duo, The King's Avatar, 222 words]

3. Zhang Jiale doesn’t win the championship in Season 5. – better than win or lose [Zhang Jiale/Wang Jiexi, The King's Avatar, 2222 words]

4. The Five Great Experts of the esteemed Blue Brook Guild are a pretty cool bunch of people, if they say so themselves. – xu boyuan hangs out with his idol to talk shit about ye xiu [Xu Boyuan/Huang Shaotian, The King's Avatar, 3k]

5. They say without your soulmate, you will still be able to live a complete life. – How much do I like you? You'll find out~ [Huang Shaotian/Yu Wenzhou, Soulmate AU, The King's Avatar, 5k]

6. Huang Shaotian, scrolling through Weibo after a tedious training session, comes across a fan edit and gets a bright idea. – Huang Shaotian WILL put flowers in Zhang Jiale's hair or die trying (this is not a love story) [Huang Shaotian/Wang Jiexi/Zhang Jiale, The King's Avatar, 9k]

7. The Moon and its army of stars chased the Sun down into the horizon. Team Hundred Blossoms, holed up in their practice room, paid it no heed. – they're just like that couple from titanic! only no one dies [Blossom Duo, The King's Avatar, 7k]

8. At 800 years of age, some might say Xie Lian has outgrown learning. – steps to joy (for a very long time) [HuaLian, 1k]

9. Wei Wuxian’s husband keeps his room simple and uncluttered. – Wei Ying, [WangXian, 1k]

10. Misfortune enjoys company; This is why it never comes one at a time, but one after another, queueing impatiently at the door of whomever it has decided to infect. – certain as the sun [Nieyao Beauty and the Beast AU, incomplete, 9k]

BONUS: My fave opening line of any of my fics ->

Minhyuk had enjoyed twenty-five years of being totally irresponsible. – Superhero Love Story [Minhyuk/Hyungwon/Kihyun, Monsta X, incomplete, 33k]

this is from when I was still writing RPF for monsta x... but it's some of my best writing and I still love the superhero concept to this day

--

As for tagging can I just tag whoever wants to do it? I hardly talk to anyone on here anymore ;; Just feel free to do it and say I tagged you <3

[carmenlire]

Higher than the Big Trees Ch. 32

read chapter one

read on ao3

“Goddammit, Alec. Are you training to be an MMA fighter now?”

Alec pushes his damp hair back, breathing harshly in the middle of Fuel’s third floor. For a Thursday morning, it’s quiet and Alec winces a little as he replays their last round in his head.

Maybe he’s working out his aggression and pent-up annoyance on Jace. Jace, for his part, looks out of breath, wincing as he shifts on the mat. He glares at Alec with little heat.

Extending a hand down to help Jace up, Alec replies, “Maybe you’re just going soft sitting behind a desk all day.”

Jace doesn’t say anything as he takes Alec’s hand and stands. They’ve been sparring for a couple of hours now and Alec still feels like he’s about to crawl out of his skin.

Goddamn Robert and his penchant for getting into his head.

Alec turns away from Jace, walking to the wall of windows and grabbing his bottle of water, taking a few deep gulps. Alec knows that Jace isn’t stupid, that any minute now he’s going to start prying.

“So,” Jace starts, right on time. “What bug crawled up your ass today? Trouble in paradise?”

Bracing his hands on his hips, Alec focuses on his breathing for a few more seconds, letting his eyes fall shut as he tries to gain his equilibrium back.

It’s a lost cause.

Sighing, he turns back and sees Jace giving him a patient look that means he plans to stand just in that spot until Alec talks.

“Magnus and I are doing just fine.”

Jace raises a brow. “Okay, then what’s going on? You don’t usually go for the throat during these sessions.”

“I stopped by Luke’s last night.”

“And,” Jace prompts, rolling his eyes. “I know Luke didn’t do anything to put you in this foul of a mood so get to it, you drama queen.”

Glaring, Alec continues, “Apparently Robert stopped by Uptown Tuesday night.”

At that, Jace stills. Neither of them move for a long minute before Jace blows out a breath. “Fuck.”

Alec’s mouth curves faintly. “Yeah.”

“How much does he want?”

The two of them grab their things as they make their way down to the first floor and Jace’s office. Alec doesn’t say anything until he closes the door to Jace’s office.

Sitting on the couch heavily, Alec tilts his head back until he’s staring at the ceiling. “Luke said that he suggested a few million would be enough to keep him out of his hair.”

Jace scoffs. “Why the hell would he go to Luke of all people for that kind of cash? Luke owns a coffee shop. He’s not exactly rolling in it. Why not just go straight to the source?”

“He had some bullshit story about going to the press and insinuating that Luke and mom were together and painting himself the victim. I honestly don’t even think that he thinks it will work. He just needed a reason to approach us.”

“Us,” Jace repeats. “It sounds like he just visited Luke, buddy.”

Alec drops his head and stares at Jace expressionless. “Robert knew the minute he went to Luke that he’d be hearing from me. The bastard probably hopes that I’ve mellowed out since the last time we saw each other.”

“Then he doesn’t know you very well,” Jace chuckles but it’s without humor.

“When did he ever,” Alec replies and he hopes to fuck that Jace doesn’t catch the maudlin note in his voice.

His hopes go unanswered and Alec lets his eyes fall closed as Jace collapses next to him on the couch. “Hey, man. Don’t let him affect you like this. Every time he shows his face, he fucks with your head. It’s been ten years. Tell me we aren’t spiraling.”

Alec speaks without opening his eyes. “He’s a bastard. We’ve known that he’s a bastard for over a decade. This is just the way things go--”

“Yeah,” Jace interrupts. “Every few years, your dad comes to town needing money. He either goes straight to you or to one of us with convoluted stories. You rush to the rescue and do whatever the hell it is that you do to make him back off until next time. Then you get drunk and go back to being that angry sixteen year old. But you know what, Alec? You showed him. Every time that you go out on stage or cash a royalty check, you’re telling him to fuck off. That should be enough.”

Alec laughs hollowly, opening his eyes to finally look at Jace. “Then why isn’t it?”

Sighing, Jace moves closer, throwing an arm around his shoulders. They both wince at the closeness after spending a few hours beating the shit out of each other.

“Because you’re you and that means you’re constantly berating yourself for things that have nothing to do with you. Izzy and Maryse and Luke can take care of themselves. I know for damn sure that I don’t need you fighting my battles. But you’re Alec and have to keep the wolf from the door regardless. Plus, he really did a number on you-- on all of us-- but especially you. I’m not saying that you have to forgive him or forget. I’m just saying that this cycle is unhealthy as shit and I hate picking you up off the floor every time Robert the asstrumpet comes to town looking for a good time and a handout.”

Alec can’t help the huff of laughter that escapes him. They’re quiet for a minute before Alec murmurs, “He really is an asstrumpet, huh?”

“He’s the worst,” Jace says solemnly.

Alec sighs loudly before standing up and running an exasperated hand through his hair. “You’re right. I need to get my shit together.” He doesn’t look back at Jace as he continues, “I’ll work on it after I talk to him.”

“Alec--”

“No, Jace,” Alec cuts in firmly. His voice is acerbic as he says, “I won’t get drunk off my ass and cry about how daddy didn’t love me, about how he wouldn't accept me. You’re right. It’s time I got over it and truth be told I am, mostly.” He laughs but it’s dark. “I am just so tired of this shit. Things are going well with my music and Magnus and of course the shoe had to drop.”

Things are quiet for a minute before Jace’s voice breaks the uneasy silence. “Are you going to tell Magnus?”

Alec laughs shortly. “Tell him what?”

“Oh, I don’t know, Alec. Aren’t you dating him? People who are in a relationship together usually tell each other about shit that’s going on. Especially when it’s probably going to make them an asshole for a day or two.”

“I’ve been told that I’m always an asshole,” Alec says thoughtfully.

“Yeah, but there’s something a little extra that happens when your dad’s in town.” Jace stands, clapping Alec on the shoulder. “Tell Magnus before you snap and say something you regret. He deserves to know and if you really see this working out, then you need to tell him. I know you’re new to this but that’s what relationships are: both of you dumping your shit and hoping to god the other doesn’t run away screaming.”

“Aren’t you a romantic,” Alec mutters under his breath.

Jace points at him with a glare. “I’ve been with Clary since high school. I must be doing something right.”

Alec snorts but doesn’t resist when Jace pulls him in for a hug. He wrinkles his nose but returns the embrace as Jace says in a low voice, “I’m here for you, bro. If you need to talk or just someone to hang out with tonight, just call me. Don’t do anything stupid.”

“Okay,” Alec agrees easily. “I won’t do anything that you would do.”

The two of them break away, laughing. Alec stares at the wall of awards on Jace’s wall, eyes unseeing. Jace gives him his space and after a moment or two, Alec says, “He really is an asshole.”

“Yeah, but he’s no match for you. Go do your thing Lightwood-- preferably after you shower.” Jace grimaces and Alec rolls his eyes, glaring at Jace before leaving the office without a backwards glance.

He nods to the receptionist on his way out and starts walking towards his apartment, preoccupied.

If Alec’s entering battle, it’s best to prepare.

“Thank you so much for helping me out. I don’t like to advertise it but I can be a little forgetful,” Alec says with an easy grin and relaxes a little as the maid giggles, stepping back from where she’d just entered her master key into the hotel suite door.

“It’s no problem, Mr. Lightwood. I’m just glad I could help.”

Alec slips her a hundred dollar bill and autographs her clipboard. That’s always the first rule of business on the road-- make friends with the staff wherever you’re staying. Luckily, Becca hadn’t questioned him too thoroughly-- or at all-- before letting him in. She’d recognized him immediately and had been more than helpful.

A hundred dollars and his signature is a small price to pay to gain entry into the Manhattan Suite of the Four Seasons.

Alec sneers as he takes in the decor and the million dollar view through the bank of windows. He doesn’t know how the hell Robert is affording this place but it can’t be ethical. Alec walks into the living area and sees the mini bar across the room has been well-used, dirty glasses and half-empty bottles of liquor covering its once pristine surface.

He helps himself, picking up a clean tumbler and pouring a splash of scotch into the glass. Taking it with him, Alec wanders throughout the rest of the hotel room. When he comes to the threshold of the bedroom, he can’t contain his disgust.

There’s a woman that looks younger than Isabelle wrapped haphazardly in the sheets. She blinks awake when Alec clears his throat.

“Who are you,” She demands, sitting up and pulling the sheets closer to her.

“I suggest you leave,” Alec says coolly and turns his back when she throws the sheets off of her, reaching for her clothes.

“I can’t leave,” she says with a huff. Alec hears shuffling and it’s just a few seconds later that the woman grudgingly says, “You can turn around.”

Alec does so, scowling. “Why can’t you leave? Surely you don’t think that this was more than a night or week?”

Rolling her eyes, she tosses her hair back. “I’m not an idiot. I was given an extra fee if I stayed while he was out and texted him whenever someone stopped by. I presume that someone is you.”

Alec raises a brow, amused. “Why don’t you just take your money and leave. It’s not like he’s going to come looking for you.”

The woman narrows her gaze at him, considering. Finally, she shrugs. “He was a jerk anyway.” She comes closer, intent on leaving and Alec moves back to let her through when she pauses in front of him, running a black painted nail down his chest. “Before I leave, can I interest you in anything?”

Alec gives her a dry look. “I’m good, thanks.”

With a sigh, she steps past him throwing out, “You can’t blame a girl for trying,” over her shoulder and Alec hears the soft snick of the front door closing just seconds later.

Shaking his head, Alec turns away from the bedroom and goes back to the living room. It’s the early afternoon and the sun is shining over New York. Alec sits down in the chair by the windows. He takes a small sip of his scotch and settles in to wait.

He’d dressed his best. His outfit costs a week’s stay in this suite and Alec knows that Robert will be blinded by dollar signs when he walks in. The family has always been well-off. Old money. Alec couldn’t remember the number of times he’d been asked are you one of the New York Lightwoodsduring his childhood. The Lightwoods were a long line of lawyers that charged exorbitant rates and Alec had always assumed he’d go into law too, right up until he’d become an overnight sensation in high school.

Robert was still at the helm of Lightwood LLP and his salary afforded him entry into the coveted one percent club. He was a far cry from Alec’s level of wealth, though. Plus, Alec thinks sardonically, it appears that Robert’s tastes have only grown more expensive with age.

He hears the keycard in the door a second before it opens and takes a breath to steady himself.

It won’t do to get emotional.

Robert strolls into the living room, tossing his card on the coffee table before turning to where Alec is sitting. He immediately stops when he catches sight of Alec, eyes darting to the bedroom.

“Don’t worry. She’s long gone,” Alec says, relaxed.

Alec watches Robert squirm for a bare moment before his shoulders come back and he stares impassively at him.

“I see Luke couldn’t help but run to you to fix his problem.”

Alec takes a drink, relishing the burn of alcohol as it warms him. “Luke just thought that I would want to know when my dad was back in town. I happen to think it’s rather considerate of him.”

“Unless you came with what I asked for, I suggest you leave,” Robert blusters.

Alec smiles but it’s sharp. It’s a courtroom smile if ever there was one and Alec can’t help but think that he learned from the best.

“You’re not getting one goddamn cent from me,” he says pleasantly.

“I’ll make the press a nightmare for Maryse and Luke. Are you really willing to let that happen?” Robert’s tone is smug, smarmy, and it lashes through Alec, filling him anger and disgust and a dozen other emotions besides.

Alec throws back the rest of his drink, setting it down on the end table with a dull thud before standing to his full height. He sees the imperceptible way that his father flinches back and feels grim satisfaction.

“You’ll do no such thing, Robert. You knew how this was going to go before you even contacted Luke.” Alec takes a step closer, towering over him. “Stay away from my family. You don’t get to touch mom or Luke or Jace or Izzy or Max. None of them. We’re all well rid of you and I won’t have you coming back and interfering in anything, dredging up old memories that are better off as dead as you are to us. Stay. Away.”

Robert balks before steeling his spine, taking a step until he’s standing toe to toe with Alec. “And what are you going to do if I don’t?”

Alec leans down. He doesn’t say anything for a few seconds and as he meets his father’s gaze, he’s struck by stale disappointment and bitter resentment. “Don’t test me,” he says softly. “Family is everything to me and you messed with them. If you don’t go back to whatever fucking rock you crawled out from, I’ll see to it that you regret it.”

Robert’s eyes widen before he tries to smile cajolingly. “Family is everything, huh? What about me? What are you doing for me?”

“You stopped being family the day you left us for someone else, the day you left mom-- your wife of eighteen years-- for your goddamn secretary. You’re nothing to me. You’re less than the dirt on the bottom of my goddamn shoe.”

Robert steps back, turning away from Alec, and he watches his back impassively as he takes a steadying breath before he whirls back around to confront Alec.

“You think you’re such hot shit, don’t you? You’re Alec Lightwood, household name. You think anyone would give a shit about you if you couldn't sing? If you couldn’t pay for their meals or extravagant presents or weekends in Cabo? You’re nothing without your money. It’s the only good goddamn thing about you.”

Alec grins, feral, even as his insides freeze. Fuck Robert and his ability to hit the nail on the head every goddamn time.

“That might be,” Alec says evenly. “But that doesn’t mean you’re getting any.”

“I earned that money,” Robert says savagely, pointing an angry finger in Alec’s direction.

Alec chuckles humorlessly. “Oh? And how did you do that? You almost ruined my career before it even started. Don’t you dare talk to me about what you deserve because otherwise you’d be in a goddamn penitentiary right now.”

Alec watches his father’s face pales and smiles. It doesn’t come close to reaching his eyes.

“That’s right. I stay up to date on my enemies and you’re fucking vermin. A little birdie told me that you’ve been embezzling from the firm.” Alec affects a shocked tone. “Not only that, but it looks like you’ve been making backroom deals for a couple of years now to make sure your clients get off scot free.”

Alec turns away from a shaking Robert, taking the few steps over to the windows overlooking Central Park. Absently, he continues, “A view like this is expensive. What’s this room cost? Five thousand a night? Ten? How much was your companion I met earlier? Twenty grand an evening? There are only so many billable hours in a day. Your hands are red as hell and it wouldn’t take much to plant a whisper in the DA’s ear.”

“You bastard,” Robert whispers furiously.

Alec smiles humorlessly. “Maybe,” he allows. He turns his head and looks at Robert, his father. Alec has plenty of good memories of his dad before his life blew up and became a living thing. He looks at his father now and sees a sad, pale imitation of a man, so much weaker than he remembers from his childhood.

It fills him with some regret and a lot of bitterness that tastes just a bit like hate.

“Stay away from me and my family. I told you last time that you wouldn’t get a fucking dollar from me and I meant it. Leave me alone.”

Robert still looks shaken but his eyes grow calculating. “You gave me money once, you know. I didn’t think that it was out of the question to see if you were amenable to another transaction.”

Alec’s mouth twists into a sneer as he turns back to the window, unseeing. “You stole the profits of my first single. Thousands and thousands of dollars that you absconded with. I never said anything, though. I was in high school and just wanted you out of my hair. And then you came back around a couple of years later and asked for more. ‘Just a cool mil,’ you said. And I had listened to mom cry herself to sleep for months at night while she pasted on a smile during the day.”

He looks back at Robert and feels choking resentment. “I gave you a million dollars to get the fuck away from us. I made it clear that it was a one time deal and you agreed and yet like a goddamn snake, you slithered back a few years later, again, with your hand held out, begging for more. You’re pathetic and I made it clear I was done. You’ve gotten everything you’re going to get from me. This is your last warning, Robert. Stay the goddamn hell away from my family or your house of cards will come crumbling down. Consider that a promise.”

Alec voice is quiet as he trails off, gaze searing into Robert’s, making sure that he gets the message. Alec could deal with him all goddamn day but the man had the audacity, the unmitigated fucking gall, to bother his family and Alec will not tolerate that.

He steps closer, voice dropping to a low murmur. “If I ever see you again-- if I even hear that you’re in the same neighborhood as any of us-- I will come after you with everything I have and I won’t stop until you’re behind bars, broke and broken. Do not test me.”

He waits until he sees Robert shakily nod before turning towards the door. His hand is on the knob when Robert speaks behind him, tremble just barely detectable in his voice.

“I meant what I said, you know. One of these days, your luck’s going to run out and everyone will see that you’re just an angry, selfish bastard. They’ll leave you because why the hell would anyone want to stay? When the lights go out and the arena empties, who are you? And why the fuck should anyone care?”

Alec stills, soaking in the words. His mouth curves faintly and his eyes flash but he doesn’t turn back, doesn’t look at Robert as he says, “That’s always been the difference between us. You need people to like you. I just need everyone to stay the fuck out of my way.”

Alec opens the door and steps into the hallway without a backwards glance, closing the door behind him with a quiet click.

He steadies himself, staring at the ground for long minutes. He hears the shatter of a glass against the wall, through the door, but it doesn’t do much to lesson the vise that’s gripping his chest.

He needs a drink.

Alec comes out of his bedroom and makes a beeline to his kitchen, pulling down his bottle of whiskey-- classic Jack Daniels. He pours a couple of fingers and throws it back, relishing the burn.

It makes him feel something besides blinding, seething rage. It feels a little like his chest is caving in and Alec is so goddamn tired that he doesn’t know what to do with himself. He always does this to himself. He always feels like this after a round or two with Robert and he hates himself, just a little, for the way seeing his father turns him back into that uncertain, insecure sixteen year old who had just tasted what the world could offer.

He pours another glass-- and another-- and then one more for good measure. The lights grow dark in his penthouse and he sits in his living room and stares outside at the billion glittering lights as far as the eye can see.

He’s in the middle of New York and feels abandoned on a one man island. He’s one of a million and feels unreachable.

Everything is fuzzy at the edges at the edges and Alec’s thoughts are running in a torturous cycle. He can’t help but repeat Robert’s words. Alec’s known for years-- since he was a fucking teenager-- that people are fickle and selfish as hell. That everyone looks out for themselves and tough shit to anyone else.

It life. It’s the industry. It’s the way things have always been and Alec’s not fool enough to change that, to think that he has the power to be the exception.

Alec sits and stares over the New York Skyline and curses his father for the thousandth time.

He’s startled out of his reverie by his cell vibrating. He clumsily picks it up and glares at the screen, growing confused as he sees the doorman’s line pop up.

“Charles,” Alec answers. “What’s up?”

“Good evening, Mr. Lightwood. There’s a Magnus Bane here to see you.”

“Magnus,” Alec repeats, confusion growing brighter. What the hell? Hastily, he thinks but he knows that the two of them didn’t have any plans to meet up this evening. Alec would never have agreed to meet with Magnus, knowing that he’d be dealing with his father.

“Magnus Bane,” Charles confirms. “I know that I let him through a couple of weeks ago but he’s not on your regular guest list so I have to get confirmation before I can let him up. Should he be permitted entry?”

Alec thinks for a moment but it’s hard, the liquor making it too fucking hard to think. “Put him on the phone, Charles.”

There’s a few seconds of static before Magnus’s voice rings clear through the phone. “Alexander?”

“Magnus,” Alec says and tries to ignore the way his voice seems to reach out. “What are you doing here?”

Clearing his throat, Magnus explains, “Jace texted me. I have no idea how he got my number, but his message said that you shouldn’t be alone tonight. I finished revisions on my book earlier than planned and thought I would stop by. I hope that’s all right?”

The line falls silence as Magnus gives Alec time to think. On the one hand, Alec knows that he’s going to be shit company for the rest of the evening. Usually, Jace finds him after a few hours spent wallowing in the bottom of his bottle and pours him into bed.

Jace doesn’t mind if he’s snappish or an asshole. It just bounces off him without sticking.

On the other hand, now that he knows Magnus is so close, Alec is hit with a wave of longing. He wants to be near Magnus, feels like just being with him right now would help this fucking mood that’s hanging over him, coating him like goddamn oil.

Still, he’s got enough wherewithal to know that Magnus doesn’t need to see him like this. It’s too soon for Alec to be airing his dirty laundry.

“I think you should go,” Alec says, staring unseeing outside his window.

Magnus is quiet for a moment before asking, “Are you okay, Alexander?”

“I’m fine,” Alec mumbles before laughing caustically. “I’m always fine. I’m Alec fucking Lightwood.”

Alec hears Magnus hum thoughtfully through the line and it grates in his ears. Before he quite knows what he’s doing, he’s making his way back to the kitchen, phone in one hand and empty glass in the other. He doesn’t say anything and Magnus doesn’t either and in the silence, he pours another glass.

He feels off balance. He feels unsteady and unlike this morning when it was new and exciting and alluring, this just makes Alec feel sick.

He’s sick of this shit. He’s sick of Robert and his own goddamn insecurities and the way the Industry can’t ever leave him in peace. He takes a sip of his drink, not even feeling the burn now, and sneers.

The Industry doesn’t give without getting something in return. It’s given Alec more than he ever dreamed possible but it’s times like this that he wonders if it hasn’t reaped a piece of his soul in payment.

He’s on top of the world but is that all there is? Concerts and signings and records. He knows that it’s most than most people dream of but right now it’s leaving him hollow.

His thoughts fracture as Magnus’s voice comes back over the line.

“Alec, I’ll leave if you really want me to but I’d like to come up there and make sure everything’s okay. I think that maybe Jace texted me for a reason.”

“Jace needs to mind his own business,” Alec says grouchily.

Magnus’s voice is reluctantly amused as he responds, “Be that as it may, I don’t think I can leave in good conscience without seeing you first. Can I come up?”

Alec tries to detect if there’s any hidden meaning in Magnus’s words but he’s tired. He’s too tired to think and suddenly it’s too much.

If Magnus wants to see him then by God, he’ll see him.

“Give Charles the phone.”

“Mr. Lightwood?”

“Put Magnus on the regular visitors list, please, Charles. From this point on, he has full access to my unit, no questions asked.”

“Understood, Mr. Lightwood. I’ll let him through right away.”

Alec hangs up and tosses his phone onto the counter where it lands with a clatter.

His head’s a mess and even though he’s drank his fair share tonight, he can’t turn it off. He doesn’t know what the hell Magnus wants but Alec hopes he finds it and leaves before things get too messy, even though there’s a part of Alec that knows they’ve already passed that point.

It’s just a few minutes later that there’s a knock on his door. He stands, a little unsteady, and makes his way through the living room, opening the door without looking at who it is.

He sees Magnus standing on the other side and tries to ignore the way his heart lurches. There are too many feelings. Magnus makes him happy, always, and it’s no different now. Distantly, Alec thinks that he’ll always be happy to see Magnus, no matter the situation.

The two of them are silent for a long moment before Magnus takes a small step forward, crossing the threshold and reaching out to cup Alec’s face, thumb slowly sweeping over his cheek. Alec closes his eyes, suddenly unbearably weary, and nuzzles into his palm.

“Good evening, darling.”

“Hey,” Alec replies, voice hoarse.

“What’s wrong,” Magnus asks after a minute.

Alec can’t help his scoff, opening his eyes and taking a step back so that Magnus’s hand falls between them. “Nothing’s wrong. Obviously.”

He turns back, towards the kitchen, leaving Magnus in the entryway. He ignores the sounds of Magnus following him and reaches for his glass, taking a bracing swallow. He can feel the tension that’s seeped into him, making his spine rigid, but damned if he can do anything about it.

He doesn’t look up from his glass, doesn’t look up as he hears Magnus rummaging through his kitchen. He does look up, though, when a second glass is placed next to the almost empty bottle of Jack. He looks up at Magnus, who’s watching him with a raised brow.

“What,” he asks dumbly.

Magnus nudges the glass closer. “It looks like we’re drinking. While I’d like to know the occasion, I’m not that picky. Go ahead, darling. Pour me a glass.”

Alec studies him for a minute before shrugging. His hands are clumsy, feel too heavy, but Magnus doesn’t comment, just watches, expressionless.

“Toast?”

Alec thinks for a moment before straightening and lifting his glass. Magnus echoes the motion and Alec says, “To luck running out,” he says, and drains his glass.

Magnus doesn’t say anything, just takes a small sip of his drink.

Alec sets his glass on the granite counter top with a dull thud that echoes in the silence. Magnus doesn’t say anything and the quiet stretches out. Alec feels like his nerves are about to snap.

“Why are you here,” he asks suddenly.

Magnus looks up, startled. “Pardon?”

“Why are you here,” Alec asks again, this time impatient. “What do you want from me? I’ve got to tell you, Cabo this time of year is a dead bore. Or are you more of a Europe kind of guy? Yeah, I can just see you walking down the Champs-Élysées now.”

Magnus looks adorably confused and Alec hates himself for the thought. “Alec, what--”

“What do you see when you look at me? Because if it’s first class privilege and weekend getaways then you can leave.”

Magnus stills. His face doesn’t betray his emotions but Alec knows that his own are painted all over his face and he can’t find it in himself to care. He doesn’t care if Magnus sees the insecurity in his eyes or hears the tremor in his voice. All he needs is for Magnus to stay-- for him, for Alec-- or to get the fuck out and leave him in peace.

His thoughts are a mess and he doesn’t know which way is up, though he can’t deny that hope is clinging stubbornly to his heart.

Magnus slowly lowers his glass, looking at Alec with dawning realization and a flash of hurt. “What’s brought this on,” he asks quietly.

Alec laughs but it cracks around the edges. “What do you mean, what’s brought this on? That’s my life, Magnus. I’m generous and I like to have a good time and people find that attractive. They like the cash, they like the private jet, they like the perks. They like Alec Lightwood, six time Grammy winner. And why the fuck wouldn't they? He’s got it all.”

Magnus comes around the island until he’s standing next to Alec, close enough to touch. His eyes run over Alec, cataloging blank eyes and flushed cheeks. When Jace had texted him earlier in the evening, he’d been uncertain at first. A feeling had been nagging at the back of his mind, though, and he couldn’t help but come over to Alec’s and make sure that he was alright.

Magnus, this is Jace. Alec’s brother. I know this is coming from left field but you should stop by his place tonight. I have a feeling he might need you.

P.S. Alec’s always an ass but he’s probably in fine form tonight. Something tells me that you won’t let him push you away.

As soon as he’d spoken to Alec on the phone, he’d known that something was going on. Alec’s voice was loose and just a touch hoarse. When he’d come up to his apartment, everything had fallen into place as he’d smelled the liquor radiating from Alec.

With Jace’s message in mind, Magnus tries to keep his cool. Obviously, something had happened today. Magnus just needs to bide his time and wait for Alec to trip up.

Magnus doesn’t touch Alec, hopes that his mere presence is enough to help, if even a little. He doesn’t know why Alec is spouting these things, but he resolves to get to the bottom of it.

He catches Alec’s eye and makes sure he has his attention. “I happen to like plain Alec just fine,” he says softly.

He hears a quick, indrawn breath before Alec drops his head, looking at the floor. “Now that’s a damned fool thing to say.”

“Why,” Magnus asks, tone amused.

“Because,” Alec starts, looking up to meet his gaze. “Nobody ever stays for just Alec. So why should they start now?”

Magnus hears the words but it takes a second for them to register. When they do, his heart breaks, just a bit.

He wraps an arm around Alec’s shoulders, leaning down until he can rest his forehead against Alec’s. Their breathing syncs in the silence of the apartment and Magnus clamps down on the urge to kick somebody’s ass.

“It seems to me like everyone else was the fool for letting you slip through their fingers. You, Alexander. I’m not talking about the artist or the man who picks up the bill. I’m talking about Alec, the guy who loves giraffes and obscure Irish literature. That’s the guy I happen to be head over heels for.”

Alec’s gaze whips up at the whispered confession. “Yeah?”

Alec’s voice is just as quiet as his own and Magnus closes his eyes as he feels Alec nose along his jaw.

“I’m head over heels for you too, you know,” Alec says, voice hoarse.

Magnus opens his eyes at that and sees Alec looking at him remarkably steady.

“I love your intelligence and wit and kindness. I couldn’t stand it if I was more invested than you.”

Magnus smiles, equal parts sad and hopeful. “If there’s one thing that you don’t have to worry about, it’s being too into me,” he teases. “In case it wasn’t embarrassingly obvious, I really like you Alexander. I don’t let just anyone watch my collector edition Twilight dvds, you know.”

Alec smiles and Magnus’s heart warms at the sight. He looks over Alec and sees messy hair and drooping eyes. He takes a moment to consider before stepping back and holding out a hand.

“I don’t know about you, but I’m tired as hell. What do you say we go to bed?”

Alec considers him for a moment before slowly nodding and standing up. Before Magnus can turn around, though, Alec’s crowding into his space. He wraps his arms around his neck and buries his head in his neck and Magnus is powerless to do anything but return that hold with everything he has. He rubs a hand down Alec’s back, soothing, and it’s a while before Alec steps back and clears his throat.

“Lead the way,” he says, and Magnus is relieved to hear a new lightness in his tone.

The two of them go to Alec’s bedroom. Alec gives Magnus a pair of sweats to change into and the two of them get out of their day clothes. While Alec finishes changing, Magnus heads back to the kitchen, pouring a glass of water from the tap. Before he goes back to the bedroom, though, he takes his phone out.

I’m spending the night. Don’t worry, I’ll take care of him.

He doesn’t have time to lock his phone before he has an incoming message.

Break his heart and I break you :)

With a huff of laughter, Magnus shuts his phone off without deigning to answer.

When he gets back to the bedroom, Alec’s already in bed but isn’t sleeping.

“Here, drink this,” he says and holds out the glass of water.

Alec doesn’t protest and drains the glass with a few efficient swallows.

“Thanks,” he murmurs.

Magnus climbs into the other side of the bed and lays down. He bites down his smile as he feels Alec shuffle slowly closer until he lays his head over his chest, laying a careful arm over his middle.

He feels Alec all but melt against him and doesn’t try to keep the surge of happiness down. He’s never felt so comfortable, so safe and warm and, well, happy.

He gently plays with Alec’s hair, smoothing it back, running careful hands through the soft strands. He hears Alec hum, content, and thinks he falls asleep just a few seconds later.

He’s startled, then, when Alec speaks.

“I’m sorry I was an ass tonight.”

Magnus’s hand stills for a split second before he resumes. “Thank you for the apology, darling, but you don’t need to apologize if this is something that’s worrying you. I don’t want you to have any doubts about me or about us. You can always talk to me, Alec.”

He feels Alec sigh, hears him suck in a breath before hesitantly saying, “I saw my dad today.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah,” Alec says and he sounds unimaginably tired. “We don’t talk much, haven’t since I was a teenager. Every few years he comes around looking for a handout. He’s like a fucking missile with the way he can target all of my insecurities. He said a few things this afternoon that fucked with me. I’m sorry I took it out on you.”

“Thank you for telling me. Thank you for trusting me with that. What did he say?”

Alec laughs but it’s empty. “The same things he always says-- I’m nothing without my career, that no one would want me if I didn’t have my money or influence. That one day the trips to Cabo and exclusive invitations won’t be enough. Nothing new.”

Magnus’s heart aches at Alec’s matter-of-fact tone.

“Your dad’s the ass, then. You’re so much more than what you can buy. I’d actually go so far as to say that the other things don’t matter. Sure, they might be nice perks, but it’s the person behind the wallet that holds my interest. Not the wallet itself.”

“Yeah, well my dad and I obviously don’t have the best relationship.”

“Obviously.”

Alec rubs his cheek against Magnus’s chest and Magnus can’t help smiling up at the ceiling as he lets the feeling of Alec sink into him.

“He didn’t like it when I came out,” Alec says suddenly.

Magnus sucks in a breath before deliberately relaxing. “You came out as a teenager?”

“Yeah,” Alec confirms. “It was my senior year, close to graduation. I had a boyfriend at the time-- secret of course-- but everyone at school knew. I had released my first song the summer before and was set to leave for tour the day after graduation. I’d been thinking about it for awhile but we won the state soccer championship and I just decided to ride that wave. I kissed him in front of the entire field.

“My dad was furious. He didn’t see it coming-- he used to tease my all the time about Lydia, my current manager. We were best friends in high school and dad thought we were a match made in heaven. He said a lot of things in those few weeks between the championship game and graduation, including that no son of his was-- was that. The son of a bitch couldn’t even say the words.

“He told me that I had ruined my life with a stupid decision. He told me that my label would tear up the contracts and that my fans would desert me. Less than a year later, he was the one who abandoned the family when he ran off with his long-time mistress who was a year older than me.”

“I’m so sorry, darling.” Magnus knows the words are futile, that they aren’t nearly enough, but Alec squeezes him closer with murmured thanks.

“He comes around every few years wanting money. I was stupid enough to give it to him the first time-- I was barely nineteen-- and now he won’t stop. Every time he comes to town, it fucks with me. I’m a lot better than I used to be when I was younger, but. Still.”

“He’s still your dad,” Magnus says knowingly.

“Yeah,” Alec sighs. “As much as I hate it, he’s still my father.” Alec tilts his face up to see Magnus. “Thanks for listening to all of that. I know it’s a lot.”

Magnus pulls Alec closer, sweeping a thumb over a bare shoulder. “It’s a lot, but it’s you. I want to know you, Alec. More than your favorite animal or impressionist painter. That necessarily involves baring the parts of yourself that you might not want to.”

Alec props himself up on one elbow so that he can lean over Magnus. His mouth quirks in a faint grin. “I did hear somewhere that relationships take effort.” He clears his throat. “That might have been an understatement.”

Magnus echoes Alec’s smile, runs a thumb over a brow and down a cheek. “Relationships take a lot of effort?”

Laughing, Alec leans down and gives Magnus a chaste kiss before settling back down over his chest.

“I’m all for effort,” he says sleepily.

Magnus’s chest rumbles with a quiet laugh and he closes his eyes, content to fall asleep.

He’s almost under when he hears Alec mumble absently, “I’m here for you, too, babe. I want to know everything about you, your past, your present. Hopefully I'll be there for your future. . .”

Alec trails off and Magnus almost immediately hears muted snoring. They’ve only slept together a few times, but Magnus is already embarrassingly enamored over the adorable little snores. They don’t help much, though.

No, Magnus consciously works to unfreeze from Alec’s words, can’t help but wonder how Alec would react if he knew the can of worms he wanted to open with Magnus’s past.

Taking deep breaths, Magnus relaxes against Alec’s bed and falls asleep through sheer force of will.

The morning’s always brighter and he hopes he can make it another day without his world imploding.

Always just one more day.

[forgwater]

Victorian Ramshackle Residents Headcanons:

warning: I'm here to brainrot not to be completely historically accurate. None of this is planned so I'm writing this as it comes to me.

Victorian AU anyone?

Feel free to send requests and asks about the au.

characters are aged up.

inspired by: @mushibashiraas and their Victorian Riddle headcanons

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Welcome to the Ramshackle Flat!

Recently acquired by the NRC, The Ramshackle Flat has been in disrepair for quite a while now. The owner, mister Crowley has been kind enough to let you rent the place at a discounted price, with the promise that you will help fix it up. You just didn't expect all that would come with your new living arrangements.

~Small Scenario~

After your talk with the mysterious owner of the building you are left standing in front of your new residence... at least the door looks sturdy enough and there are no broken windows. Your new companion, Grim, keeps pawing at your legs telling you to "hurry up already!", what an impatient creature.

As you open the door you are greeted with dust and a slight breeze... weird... the windows aren't open. You are quickly snapped out of your thoughts by a loud

BANG!

followed by a loud shriek from Grim.

What looks like a pot is now rolling on the ground. How did that even happen?!

"'Ello there pally!" one specter says.

"What do we have here?" a second one joins.

"Well, aren't you some lovely living creatures." you hear from behind you. The third apparition seem to be blocking your exit.

You never thought that something as simple as trying to find a place to rent would devolve into something so... eventful...

Luckily you've managed to calm... well... the spirits. Which means you've got new roommates! Lucky you.~ Now you live with a weird cat and three ghosts, what an achievement!

So much for living alone, huh.

The Residents:

Grim

A stray cat you once fed. He's refused to let you go ever since, he's constantly following you.

Grim insists you would be in grave danger without him being by your side. Is he right? Or is it a scheme to keep himself fed and housed. You're not quite sure.

He's quite cute you think, despite his spoiled, prideful and stubborn personality, you can't help but coo when he snuggles against you, on chilly nights especially.

He's quite fond of tuna, the expensive kind too. You could swear you've caught a glimpse of him fighting with lord Trein's cat, Lucius, over the stuff. When you bring it up he swears you're imagining things and that he would never do something as undignified as that.

The Three Specters

Fun loving ghost coming from beyond the grave, they seem quite pleased to make your acquaintance, well... it looks like they're your new roommates from now on. Don't worry, they'll scare of any would-be thief so your belongings are in safe translucent hands. Just make sure to tell your guests about them beforehand.

Y/N (F/N L/N)

Y/N is whoever you want them to be! It all comes down to your preference. You want to know about them as the help around the different buildings? How about them as an aristocrat? Oh! How about royalty? Perhaps a runaway? A medium? Someone's child? Someone's sibling? What relationships they have with the other residents?

If you decide to ask, you'll have to specify Y/N's status first then what kind of relationship you want to know about, a friendship? a rivalry?... or perhaps are you looking for love? Are they strangers, childhood friends, betrothed? Is it an arranged marriage? A scandalous affair between people of different status? You can also add a little bit of personality for dear old Y/N. Are they more on the shy side or are they quite bold?

Y/N is by default gender neutral, I like to make it possible for anyone to read, but I can try to write for female and male readers (keep in mind that I'm afab so I don't know how well I'd be able to write a male reader)

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Navigation: Masterlist

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don't know if you're interested, but I'm tagging you anyway: @anonima-2 @hat3yo0 @oreochococheesecake

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

Can I just say that I am in love with your UCN AU (I know it's probably been awhile since you did anything for it but still). That being said, I've recently watched j-gems' "Ventilation Altercation" animation and I was wondering if you could write a little scenario where Ennard and Molten end up getting stuck in the same vent shaft while trying to jumpscare the reader and, as a result, get up tangled up in each other and need to go to the reader for assistance in getting un-tangled.

Aw thanks! I haven’t revisited this AU in ages! I love that video too haha.

.........

"Molten, move over!! Your wires are getting tangled with ours!!"

"It's not m-m-my fault! There's barely any room in here!!"

"That’s okay. Take your time. I got all night.”

As they struggled to stick their heads out of the front vent shaft, Molten Freddy and Ennard saw you sitting there with your hand on the monitor, a smirk on your face as you watched them fight each other. 

Ennard was only able to bring out one of Ballora's eyes. Given the glare she was sending you, she wasn’t pleased to be the one taunted. It should be the other way around, but you’re used to the animatronics’ antics so it doesn’t faze you anymore.

“Don’t get mad at me. That’s your own fault. I could be worse-”

“How can this possibly get any worse?” Ballora, via Ennard, questioned.

“You could have Chica, Mangle, or Springtrap stuck with you.”

“NO!! I would hate that! Especially..him-m-m.” Molten grumbled as he managed to stick both of his paws out, letting them hang out of the vent. “I hate that stupid old man for what he did to us.”

“Well at least we agree on something..now MOVE.” Ennard’s patience was running thin and they tried forcing themselves free.

Which ended with the two amalgamations tumbling to the floor in a heap of wires and robot eyes, still stuck together. They continued to struggle and fuss like two children before they saw you slam the monitor down, finally fed up with their behavior.

“Oh no...now you’ve done it!! [Y/n] is ma-a-a-ad!!” Molten groaned.

“Yes, mad at you. Who gave you control over us anyway?! Circus Baby wouldn’t agree to this!”

“Well it’s too bad we kicked her out for being so bossy!”

“You WHAT-?!”

“Shut up. Both of you.”

Your stone-cold tone made the pair cease their arguing once more, as they looked towards you. Seeing that they’re finally listening, you sighed before venturing to the desk for some tools. Something that could help you free them from their entanglement.

Molten’s eyes widened upon seeing you take out a large pair of--

“WIRE CUTTERS?!!”

“Molten, relax. They won’t hurt you.” You took the cutters and approached the two, wondering where you were gonna start. But it was hard to figure that out when the rusted bear was panicking and flailing his limbs. “Hold still please-”

“NO!! NO!! IT’S GONNA HURT-T-T-T!!”

“You guys can’t feel pain here. Plus you got burnt and you’re perfectly fine..sorta.”

“Oh...that’s right. I forgot!” He cackled, before quieting down with a small “sorry”.

Ennard rolled their many eyes, but stayed quiet as they wanted to be freed as soon as possible. With much effort, you managed to get them all untangled so they could separate. They immediately scurried to opposite sides of the room and stared at each other, before looking back at you.

Now what do they do? They both entered the office at the same exact time.

Though you were saved by the bell chiming 6AM, so they didn’t have the chance to scare you as they intended to.

But before they could leave, you told them to work out some compromise: to take turns trying to reach you through the vent and not get so impatient. With so many animatronics melded into them, they were bound to get antsy.

Hopefully they learned their lesson.

Especially now that Molten is deathly afraid of wire cutters.