#it's possible some of them have moved around the list in the last few days

[ghostmoon1]

Day Nine - Scars

Ghost x Soap

Master List

Icl, I think 22' Ghost has the Ghost comic's backstory too. That's just my opinion, so I mixed it in here :3 And just added a random lil thing in too

CW: Mentions of torture, scars, swearing, insults

Words: 1,118

Booted feet softly thudded against the hard cold floors of the base, creating a slight echo through the quiet halls. His hands were stuffed into the pockets of his pants, the soft fabric clinging to his body. His mohawk was messy and sticking up all over the place, he hadn’t even cared to make himself look semi-decent even if he was just walking through the halls. 

He have had a shit day, all he wanted to do was get back to the barracks and flop onto his bed, blocking out the rest of the world. And he knew just the person to help him do so, Simon.

He wasted no time banging his hand against Simon’s door, possibly too loud and aggressive for this time of the night but he was fuming. The door rattled slightly as his fist hit it, the lock squeaking in protest. A few moments later, footsteps and shuffling could be heard from inside, not before a small groan in annoyance.

The door swings open, revealing Simon with dishevelled hair, in nothing but a pair of sweatpants. His light skin almost shone in the dim lights of the barracks, his eyebrows were furrowed in annoyance and bags under his eyes. He brushed a hand through his hair with a yawn as he studied Johnny standing in front of him, arms crossed over his chest. He looked pissed.

“Fuck you doing up…” he mutters, turning his head to the clock in his room. “At 2 am?”

Without answering, Johnny barged past him and made a beeline towards his bed. He threw himself at it, letting the soft sheets embrace him and the smell of Simon fill his senses. He groaned, wanting to let out more of his stress but settled for wrapping his arms around his pillow and bringing it to his face. “Fuckin’ bullshit day…” he mutters, his voice muffled by the pillow as he shows no signs of pulling away soon.

With a sigh, Simon shuts the door and locks it then makes his way over to the bed. He nudges him softly to get him to move, so he could at least have some of the bed to himself before sliding under the covers with him, propped up against the head of the bed. He gently pulls Johnny away from his pillow and carefully settles him on his bare chest. Johnny’s reaction was immediate, snuggling into his chest and wrapping his arms around his torso, letting their legs get tangled together. Simon holds him close, his fingers tracing small circles on his arms.

“Recruits are fuckin’ wankers…” Simon stifles a laugh and earns himself a wack on the chest. “That ain’t funny!”

He coughs and bites his tongue to stop himself from laughing. “Yeah, right. Continue.”

He huffs softly before he continues, his fingers tracing small patterns along his chest, feeling Simon’s muscles tense and relax to his touch. “Right. You wouldn’t believe that I had to break up a fight in the mess hall, fuckin’ idiots! And you know what for? He took the last fucking teabag! You Brits and your fuckin’ tea…”

“They just sound immature, you know we don’t act like that Johnny.”

“Well, they were goons! Got me in the fucking ribs when I intervened! Why the fuck would you fight o’er somethin’ so bizarre!?” he rants, throwing his arms up dramatically as he explains.

Simon sighs as he makes an effort to not laugh at his earlier situation. He carefully takes his hand and rests it back on his chest. “Show me.”

Johnny grumbles but lifts his shirt just past his ribs, a patch of purple and green painted onto the skin on his ribs as a bruise forms. Simon hisses softly as he studies it, brushing his fingers against it with a feather-light touch. He meets his eyes as Johnny hisses softly in pain, flinching away by instinct but trying to fight them and let him continue. He stares into his soft baby blues for a moment, letting the admiration overwhelm him. 

Johnny slowly relaxes under his touch. He knew he’d be looked after, protected by Simon. He knew he could trust him. He lets his head sit on his chest, one of his hands coming up to trace the scaring that tore from his ribs and down his chest.

“Roba…”

Johnny blinks in surprise, studying his face. A wave of sadness and anger hit him as he watched his expression. “Roba…?”

Simon nods, letting his hand trace the scar. “He did that to me. Meathook.”

“Fuckin hell…” he mumbles, looking down at the scar and studying the way it curved around his ribs, it had healed messy, and the skin was a mess. His heart clenched the more he thought about it. He has probably gone through so much, it hurt him almost physically to think about it. “How’d that not kill you…”

“Pure insanity, I think.”

Johnny barks out a laugh at his response, humming as Simon takes his hand and places it on another scar. “This one… remember when Kyle tried to teach you how to use a throwing knife?”

He hums in response with a soft nod, letting his fingers run over the rough flesh. “Yeah..?”

Simon laughs softly, his chest rumbling and vibrating beneath Johnnys hand. “That one’s from you, didn’t get around to telling ya, did I?”

His eyes shoot up as the realisation hits him. That time Kyle was teaching him to throw a knife, but it had slipped out of his hand and hit Simon in the chest. That day he had brushed it off, saying it hadn't struck him. But it had, he just didn’t want him to feel horrible and give up on trying out of pure guilt. “Yer big bastard.”

“It was fine, a bit of glue fixed me right up,” he replies almost as if it was all a joke, or he had found it amusing anyway.  

Johnny grumbles into his chest and sighs. “You should’ve told me I did that to yer.”

He shakes his head, moving his hand again to rest it above his heart. Johnny instantly relaxes, his body melting into his chest as he feels the warmth and the soft thud of his heartbeat against his hand. “I’m one of the reasons for your scars then.”

Simon smiles, cupping his cheek softly and letting his thumb brush through the stubble. “I don’t mind it, can sorta’ say I have a lil’ bit of you everywhere I go then, huh?”

Johnny reflects his smile, a small chuckle escaping his lips. “Yeah, I guess so,” he whispers, before leaning over and softly pressing a kiss against the scar he had given him.

[totalswag]

nonsense — DREW STARKEY

authors note i've wanted to write a singer!reader drew fic for the longest time. i've read some singer!reader fics lately and it gave me some inspiration to write my own. i hope you guys enjoy reading. this was also requested by an anon not long ago, so if you’re reading this enjoy 🩵. the song choice is nonsense and just think to when sabrina is performing this song at coachella.

summary performing at coachella for the first time with friends and your lovely boyfriend supporting you in the crowd.

warnings none!

Coachella.

This is your first Coachella where you are performing. You will be playing live in front of millions of people. This is the last weekend for the festival.

Tens of thousands of people travel from all over the world to attend Coachella. The festival features sculptures, art installations, and other open events in addition to music.

When your manager called you about being invited to perform you couldn't believe your ears. Now, here you are about to step on stage.

Standing in a circle backstage with your crew, discussing everything you've prepared for over the last few days and having fun out there. This is what you always do before a show.

Second weekend of the festival.

Walking on stage seems like a surreal experience for you. Looking around, you can sense the intensity of the enormous crowd in front of you.

The weather was lovely, with the sun still shining and the breeze brushing over your skin. 

"Hello Coachella, my name is Y/F/N, what's yours?" You smile into the microphone while waving away.

You began by introducing the crowd to yourself, your backup dancers, your music, if everyone is having a great time, etc.

Interacting with your fans is one of your favorite parts of singing on stage. You value your interactions with them since you like conversing. When you read comments on your shows, they usually mention how fascinating you are.

After singing a few songs from the set list, you took a little breather and spoke to the crowd saying a joke, making them laugh.

You begin the next song by sipping from an old-fashioned soda bottle while seated in a chair. As you take a seat, you glimpse your boyfriend, Drew, along with a couple of your friends and security. 

You two make eye contact. Butterflies fill your stomach. You offer him a small wave, and he smiles and turns around, presumably blushing.

Fans up close captured the brief interaction with their phones out. We'll see it on social media later today.

Drew and you began dating in the midst of season three of Outer Banks. The first outing was Pougelandia, and fans began to speculate about your relationship because it came out of nowhere.

To be honest, Madelyn Cline and you were close friends before she began filming season one of Outer Banks. She’s the one who introduced you to Drew.

"The last song I'll be playing for you guys is nonsense, so if you know the lyrics, sing along," you cheer, lifting your free hand in the air, moving it around with excitement.

"Is it possible we get my amazing dancers out here," you turn around, pretending you have no idea where they went, "guys come out here, we could perform some sort of choreography, you know" as you gaze at your dance crew coming out the set.

Nonsense is about Drew.

It is one of your favorite songs that you have written. When you first released it, many were unsure who it was about until photos of Drew and you emerged.

Think I only want one number in phone

I might change your contact to "don't leave me alone"

You said you like my eyes and you like to make 'em role

Treat me like a queen, now you got me feelin' thrown, oh

You dance with your dancing crew, who are behind you and moving in sync. The choreography is muscle memory for you guys because you've been performing this song for a few years now.

But I can't help myself when you get close to me

Baby, my tongue goes numb, sounds like "bleh bleh bleh"

I don't want no one else (no no) baby, I'm into deep

Here's a little song I wrote (a song I wrote) its about you and me

When you sing the last line of the pre-chorus, you gesture to Drew in the audience, who moves his head side to side while listening to you sing and blushes when you point to him. You giggle into the microphone.

Fans started cheering louder as they watched you motioning to your lover in the audience.

You continue to move around stage all throughout the song.

You go around the center of the stage as your backup dancers finish their final few dances. One of your backup dancers grabs a chair for you to sit in.

At the end of nonsense you always come up with rhymes. Started doing this after the first performance and can't stop doing it.

Told him he makes me weak to my knees

Everything about him just so dreamy

By the way he's name Drew Starkey

When you say your boyfriend's name, the crowd cheers. You saw his response as he mouthed the words "I love you," dropped his jaw, and put his hands over his heart.

"Coachella, you've been amazing to me these past two weekends. Thank you so much. Can we please give a huge around of applause for our amazing dancers, come on out guys!" Excitement in your voice when you call your dance crew out on stage.

Once you guys made it off stage, you guys began cheering with a bunch of energy. Everyone gave each other hugs.

"Water is calling my name right now" you groan with urgency.

Approaching your manager, holding a cold water bottle for you- thanking her a few times as you open the bottle. You were about jugging down the water when you heard Drew's voice approaching.

"Hi baby," you squeal, dragging the y in baby, and rush into Drew's arms, wrapping your arms around his neck. Being in his arms sends relief in your body.

He smells so good.

He chuckles, "You did so well out there, so proud of you," and delicately places you on your feet.

"Thank you," blushing to the point where your cheeks were red. "Did you enjoy the outro of nonsense?" You inquire with curiosity, despite the fact that you already know his response.

He softly grins that makes your heart flutter, "Mhm yeah I did" kissing the top of your head, wrapping his right arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer to him.

"Why don't we get something to eat?" "How's that sound, baby?" Drew asks, his arm still around you.

Your ears and eyes light up from his request, “obviously yes.”

Before leaving you heard the voices of friends turning the corner. The rest of your friends, as well as Drew's cast members who are also your friends, returned to stage, thrilled to see you.

It was so good to see them.

Drew and you returned to the van to change, drove to the Airbnb to relax before returning to watch other artists perform after the sun had set with your friends.

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[fallingdownhell]

i love your recent posts but can i request hurt/comfort genshin impact xiao, wanderer, cyno where like they get into an argument about the reader being weak or something like that

although they didn't mean it, but after a few days after the argument, they see reader like training hard for them because of the fight.

<3

Mhh, always. You know I love me a good dose of angst! And I'm sorry, but I only included two of the requested characters, because otherwise this would haven gotten way too out of hand and too much to read. Hope you're okay with that.

Characters Included: Xiao; Wanderer

Content: gender neutral reader; angst; comfort; hurt/comfort; established relationship; arguments between them and reader; shouting and cursing at reader in wanderer's scenario; Kunikuzushi/Kuni is being used for Wanderer

Word count: 2,2k words

Enjoy the read!

Xiao

You have to understand him. He's just looking out for you!

There is a clear, natural difference in strength between you and him!

He's an adeptus after all, and you're just a human! Sure, you possess a vision and you know perfectly well how to utilize it to your advantage in battle, but he's still your boyfriend! Let him be worried about you!

Honestly, he really just had your best interest and saftey in mind when he approached you one day, offering to train with you and possibly make you stronger, since he noticed your form to be a bit lacking when he watched you train.

The problem was, he told you exactly what he was thinking, no filter whatsoever. Which in turn caused you to get a bit defensive with him. That didn't sit right with Xiao, because in his eyes, he was only trying to help you.

This then resulted in a huge argument, where neither of you wanted to back down against the other.

"(Name), for the love of the Archons. Can't you see I'm only trying to help you here?"

"By berating me and telling me all the things I'm doing wrong? Without offering any advise at all? Yeah, great help.", you scoff as you turn your back to your boyfriend, trying to resume your exercise in peace. You were hoping that he would get the hint, to leave you alone. But he didn't.

"I'm really only looking out for you. You lack basic knowledge with the sword and you lack stamina as well. You're moving around too much, you make so many unnecassary movements. The hold you have on your weapon is too loose. Anyone could easily knock it out of your hand. Also-!"

"Okay! I got it!", you suddenly burst out as Xiao keeps on listing the things you're doing wrong in his eyes. It not only frustrated you, but it also made you feel so inferior.. to him and basically everyone else. You know that everyone starts out at some point. Everyone has to learn from the beginning. So why is he being so mean to you? Shouldn't he be more supporting of you as your boyfriend?

"I get it. You've made your point very clear."

You speak again, while Xiao just stares at you, mouth still hanging open. He didn't expect for you to raise your voice like this. You were usually so soft spoken.

You stared into each others eyes for a few more seconds, before you let out a sigh and placed your sword back into its sheat.

"I'm going home.", you announce as you go to grab your stuff. You collect everything and put it in your back, leaving without taking another look at him.

Suddenly, Xiao got the feeling that he made a huge mistake. Not only by "helping" you out with your training, but also as he let you go like this without having a talk with you, but something told him to let you be for the time being.

.....

Well... did he regret letting you just go like that. It has been almost a week since he last saw you, because you refused to call his name like you usually did on a daily basis.

And he was afraid of seeking you out himself, since he feared to only further sour your mood with an unannounced visit from his side. But he wanted to see you again so badly...

When the one week mark was reached without hearing anything from you, Xiao has had enough. He needed to make sure that you were okay. He was certain you would have called his name if you were in mortal danger, despite the argument at hand, but it's better to be safe than sorry. He needed to know you were still alive..

So, he teleported to your home, waiting for a few seconds in front of the door, gathering courage, before knocking on the door. He waited and waited, but nothing happened. He knocked again, but still nothing.

Xiao was about to leave again, scolding himself in his head, because of course you wouldn't open, you obviously didn't want to see him right now, when he heard noises coming from a bit further away.

Deciding to investigate, he followed the noises. And what he saw did shock him a bit..

He saw you, standing in a circle of training dummys, practicing different moves and tactics. He could tell that your hold on the blade has gotten better over the week you have been apart. In fact, everything he had critiqued about your skills seems to have improved...

Have you been training relentlessly this entire time??

This made him feel even more bad about this entire argument. He wanted to help you, not make you overexert yourself like this, just to prove something to him..

Deciding that it was finally time to talk, he approached you. You heard the footsteps coming your direction and turned towards them. Surprised to see Xiao there, you stopped in the middle of your session, facing him.

It was quiet for a few seconds as he arrived in front of you, and when you couldn't take it anymore, you decided to speak up again.

"What? Here to berate me even more?" It sounded way more sarcastic and hurtful than you had intended it to, and you saw Xiao flinch the slightest bit at your words, but you didn't back down from them.

"No..", Xiao answered weakly.

"I'm here to apologize." His words left you surprised, not expecting this at all.

"I didn't realize how much my words were hurting you. That was never my intention, (Name). I.. I'm just worried about you. There is a clear difference in skill, after all, but I shouldn't have been like this to you. I sincerely apologize for the way I treated you."

You have been with Xiao long enough to know two things. First, he was being completely honest with you. You could tell by the tone in his voice and the way he tried to look into your eyes, while also trying to avoid them at the same time, feeling embarrassed about being this vulnerable with someone.

Second, you knew just how hard it was for him to be honest and vulnerable with you. Saying this must have caused so much for him to do, yet he did it anyway.. for you.

For a second, you stood there and stared at him, before sighing and walking over to him, wrapping your arms around his body in a warm, comfortable hug. He did not hesitate for a second before doing the same, having missed this feeling dearly for the past week.

"I don't mind you helping me or giving me advise.. but maybe don't be so brash and insulting about it. Okay?"

He nodded, promising you to be more careful with his words from now on.

Wanderer

You sighed with relief as the Ruin guard in front of you collapsed and shattered into its parts, the cut on your side hurting a bit when you breathed, but it wasn't bleeding too bad, so the wound must not be too bad, either.

You were usually not that easy to surprise, but for some reason, you overlooked that particular ancient machine, resulting in it getting a hit on you before it was taken down.

Though, you were not the one responsible for taking it down. The actual reason was flying in from behind it, your boyfriend, Kuni. And while you were smiling at him, wanting to thank him for his help, he had a scowl on your face as he landed in front of you.

"What the hell were you thinking, Idiot? You would be dead now if it weren't for me being here!", he shouted as soon as he landed, not letting you get a word in.

You were taken aback by his harsh words and tone, staring at him, which only made him even more agitated.

"The hell? You don't even have an excuse! How can you be so fucking careless? I know you're weak but I wouldn't have thought of you being this stupid as well!"

You heard each and every single one of his words, and they all stung right in your chest. You were aware of the difference in power between you two, but that didn't mean you were incompetent with your polearm. You've trained long and hard to get to the point where you are now, and you were proud of yourself for it.

When you looked into his eyes again, you could see a bit of shock behind them, like he was surprised himself that the words actually left his lips.

You waited a few seconds, to see if he would apologize to you or take them back, but nothing came. Kuni's pride hindered him from doing the right thing..

"I see. If that's what you think of me, I won't be in your way again."

The words sounded cold when they left your lips, and Kunikuzushi flinched ever so slightly when hearing them, but you didn't react to it. Instead, you turned and walked away from him without acknowledging his presence any longer.

"Hey! What do you think you're doing? Where are you going?", he shouted after you, but no response. Then, he chased after you, but when he noticed that you were still ignoring him, he gave up on it, figuring that it would be best to leave you alone for the time being.

Surely, you would come crawling back to him soon enough... right?

....

....

Two weeks.

The incident has happened two weeks ago. And for those two weeks, he did not hear or see anything of you, whatsoever.

He was so sure that you wouldn't even survive a week without him before coming back and apologizing, but it seemed like he was wrong this time.

And he hated to admit this, even to himself, but.. he missed you. Missed your stupid, cheerful smile, your laugh and the way you always made his day better, just by spending time with him.

After about a week and a half, he began to think, that maybe, this time, he was actually the one in the wrong. That maybe, he took it too far with his words this time around.

Maybe.. he should be the one to apologize to you.

And yet, it took him a few more days to overcome his stupidly high pride and actually follow through with his thoughts.

Nahida, who knew all about the situation from Kuni himself, smiled and nodded proudly as the puppet went to leave the Sanctuary of Surasthana.

He first searched for you at your home, but you couldn't be found there. Then, he went on a stroll through the city, hoping to run into you along the way, but that too, proofed to be without success.

His last hope was the adventurers guild, and that someone hopefully has seen you there.

And luck was on his side this time, as some other members told him about how you have constantly been taking commission after commission for the past few days.

Feeling his worries for you rise again, he went to the locations given to him, hoping to find you there.

About an hour or so later, he spotted you at the location of the third commission you took, standing next to a defeated ruin drake while facing another one head on.

He had half a mind to rush over and take care of it for you, but something in him told him to let you handle it yourself. So he watched with bated breath as you easily took care of the machine, letting it fall to the ground while you remained completely unharmed.

That's when he really realized what his words might have caused for you. You are by no means a sheltered human, you're capable of defending yourself, and very well so.

As you were checking the defeated drakes for useful stuff, he came out of his 'hiding spot', walking directly to you. You noticed him approaching but chose to ignore him still. In fact, you've noticed his presence in the middle of the fight, but decided not to call him out and see what he would do.

When he arrived, he just stood next to you in silence for a while, watching you. But when you still wouldn't acknowledge him, he decided to speak up.

"(Name)... I... I'm sorry..", he mumbled quietly. He felt embarrassed, not used to acting like the bigger person, but he was in the wrong here, so he had to do this, no matter what.

The words out of Kuni's mouth caught you by surprise, your head swirling around to look at him, finally.

Kunikuzushi didn't know what else to say right now, so he stayed silent, hoping you would understand how difficult this was for him right now.

"..I'm not weak.", you answered him quietly as well, fully facing him now, but your posture and tone seemed a bit more open and calmer now.

"..I know."

He may not be the best with words, but somehow, you always understood what he wanted to say, anyways. It has always been this way between you. It was one of the many things he loved so much about you.

And that's how it was this time, too. He quietly thanked the Gods when he pulled you into his arms again, holding you for the first time in what had felt like an eternity.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Winter's King 26

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, cheating, violence, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You are a maid to the Duke of Debray, a lord of the Summer Kingdom. That is, until the king of Winter appears with his particular air of coldness. (Medieval AU)

Characters: Geralt of Rivia

Note: Monday's are for pain.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

"More wine," Queen Jazlene demands. 

You stand at her shoulder, awaiting her every command. The familiarity of your duty feels safe though you cannot deny the peril all around. You move forward cautiously, sending a glance to king. 

King Geralt has not said or done much. He's hardly even touched his plate. For the first time that night, to your surprise as much as your relief, he looks at you. You pause, hand hovering before the ewer. 

"Another cup won't fare you well on the morrow," he girds. 

Jazlene huffs, "what else am I to do in this dull place but drink?" 

His lashes lower and he sits back. He props his elbow on the straight arm of the chair and gazes out at the boards full of bawdy voices and steps. He tilts his head as his pale sight skewers the chamber. 

"It is a banquet," he utters flatly. You remain close to Jazlene but retract your hand. 

"It is, husband, what do you propose?" She's breathy, almost hopeful. She peers out across the plucking of strings, "a dance?" 

"I know some steps," he extends his fingers, "suppose... there won't be much dancing on the road and Lord Vesemir did go to all this effort." 

"Truly? A dance?" She squals and grabs his forearm, "husband, is this not some cruel jape?" 

His jaw squares and he looks at her without humour, "only a suggestion. We are... married. The people should like to see king and queen together." 

You step back, as surprised as the daughter of Debray. The king himself hardly seems eager but he is ever aloof. You wonder if it is genuine. His refusal to look at you has you uncertain. Does he regret his missteps or are you once assuming too kindly of him? He has taught you those last few days to be skeptical. You are less than grateful for the lesson.  

"I would very much love to dance," Jazlene seizes his large hand and he winces, "thank you, thank you, thank you." She chants in excitement as she rises and the king steels himself as he does the same.  You're not so sure her glee is specific to her partner, but rather the act.

You can’t help but pity the queen. It’s clear she’s desperate for excitement. It would explain her flirtations and her tantrums and all her behaviour. Still, the isn’t the little girl flitting around her father’s castle anymore; she is the queen and her misdeeds will have consequences should she carry on. 

Your eyes drift out as a lull ripples over the chamber followed quickly by a tide of murmurs. The king and queen emerge from behind the royal table as curiosity thrums all around. The troupe continues to strum as Jazlene can hardly contain her elation despite the king’s stoic propriety. They begin the steps; hers jouncy, his flat and formal. She hardly notices her partner’s nonchalance. 

The other partners give breadth to the royal couple as others pause to watch. Whispers and cheers, some whistles encourage the king and queen. It is the first that any have seen the royal couple as one. 

You watch but hardly take in the scene. Your mind wanders to the chamber in the tower, then to the queen’s rooms; you hear only Geralt’s gritting frustration and the queen’s shrill defiance. They play their parts but you are not convinced. 

You peer around and your eyes catch on a shock of rusty orange. Gilles stands by the doors, amid as cluster of other guards. Where his fellow soldiers drink ale and grumble, he stares at the royal pair, bound by the sight of the queen on the king’s arm.  

You follow his gaze and meet King Geralt’s golden irises. His brow twitches and he quickly draws his attention back to his queen. You are confounded by him. You cannot figure if he truly has reconsidered his intent or he is merely hiding. He’s shown you before that he can feign whatever role suits his means; gallant king, pensive man, troubled soul. In the end, his only concern is his own will. 

Your chest rents deeper amidst your doom-laden thoughts. When did you grow so cynical? It’s these Hinterlands; their chill invades even the soul. Your lips tug down and you put your eyes to the stone wall. You need only see the night through. The road will keep all too busy for recklessness. 

As you stand there, you sense a shift, and turn to look over your shoulder. Lord Vesemir waves in your direction, bidding you to him with a pointed finger. You squint and peer back at the queen and king. You cannot disobey the host even if you are bound to a higher title. 

You sidle along behind the tables and stop behind the white-haired lord. He pushes his chair out, leaning into the straight wooden back. He looks up at you, cheeks ruddy with drink. 

“Little dove,” he grits, “how amusing, isn’t it, to see the king afoot on the boards.” 

“My lord,” you agree evenly. 

“I must say he never took so happily to the dance lessons as he did the sword,” Vesemir chuckles, “though he is graceful in both. My own feet do not listen to each other.” 

You bow your head, signaling your attention. You tilt your ear to him and stare at the table. 

“If any knew to watch for it, they would see he does prefer another partner,” the lord sighs, “alas, it would not be wise, as I’ve told him. A king cannot so quickly descend into folly. How many times did I say the same to his own father?” 

You lower your lashes.  

“I believe he has heeded my foreboding,” Vesemir reaches for his goblet and grunts as he finds it empty, tilting it to show his disappointment. You move forward to grab the jug of ale and pour him a new cup. He thanks you as he watches you. “And you. You had a restful night? You were provided the promised chamber? A bed?” 

“Yes, my lord, thank you,” you say, “it is rather much for a maid.” 

“We both know you are not any maid,” he pauses to gulp, “tell me, dove, do you find my halls too cold?” 

You set the jug down and step back on your heels. You fold your hands and consider his question as a riddle. You know not how to untangle the words of nobles so you will not try. 

“Cold, yes, but not intolerable, my lord,” you answer. 

“Hm, yes, but you may line your wool a bit thicker,” he reaches to pinch the cuff of your sleeve, “you would not shiver so much.” He rescinds his touch and looks into his cup, swirling the ale, “and your former castle, what was that like? Suppose the Duke of Debray is a rather busy lord, the way he scurries around like rat.” 

You hesitate. You cannot tell if he refers to Lord Dustan’s betrayal. 

“There’s always work for servants in a castle,” you say, “summer or winter. We were kept busy though not many ventured to Debray. It was always the lord that traveled.” 

“Mm, yes, you would not guess it but this vulture’s nest is rarely so lively as this. You’ve only seen it invaded by the king and his horde. When the winter is falling, it is so quiet. The snows drown out the noise below and the ice sparkles as diamonds...” he describes dreamily, “it is calm, peaceful. Not as life is at court. I prefer it. I was never one for that farce.” 

You look at him, listening intently. You think of the cave, of the moths, the desolation nestled within those icy walls. This place is beautiful despite its frosted bite. You might’ve seen clearer sooner were it not for the shroud cast on it by crowded halls. 

“It is safer here,” he continues, “and even as peace is declared, times will grow no less turbulent. Wars do not end so cleanly.” 

You furrow your brow and watch the lord, trying to unfold his words into their true meaning. He chuckles and empties his goblet once more. He sets it down and stands. 

“Perhaps this old man does ramble in his cups,” he shakes his head, “I thank you, dove, for your ear. Loyal as you are, gentle too. You could not know what spell you cast.” 

You retreat as Lord Vesemir angles his broad figure around his chair. He beckons as he turns and for a moment, you think he gestures at you. Instead, the maid, Ezme, appears from the shadows and meets him at the end of the table. He speaks to her as you back up against the wall. He walks with her from the hall as you stare after them. 

His words echo in your head.

What did he mean to say all he did? Another warning of what you already dread? A suggestion that you simply could never heed? Does he suggest escape even as he denotes your futility? Or does he simple speak for nothing more than his own voice? 

You look back to the king and queen. A new pitch picks up as the music swells with the stomping feet on the boards and the japes and jeers. Amid the revelry, the king remains as staunch as always, and once more, your eyes meet. 

Lord Vesemir is not mistaken. There is only turmoil ahead. 

⚔️

The night ends in a march along the corridors. You keep a distance from the king and queen as they walk ahead. Jazlene leans on her husband as she drunkenly babbles. Despite his discouragement, she kept to her wine. Ahead, Gilles walks with his hand on his sword. 

The guard opens the queen’s doors and the king escorts his wife through. You tarry in the archway as the ginger-headed man takes his post but cannot restrain from peeking within. Jazlene falls onto her mattress and sighs, giggling into a chattering shiver. 

“Oh, it is so cold,” she hugs herself, rubbing her arms. 

“You should not wear satin,” the king remands. 

“Rats to that!” She sneers and pushes herself up on her elbows, “I was plenty warm on the boards...” she looks at him coyly and grins, “with you, husband.” 

“And the wine in your belly does convince you of warmth,” he tuts. “I’ve known many men who drank themselves to death thinking it could cure the cold.” 

“Ugh, you are so dour,” she chides shrilly and sits up, reaching for him, “husband, we have a long road ahead. Will you not make use of our last night in the castle?” 

He huffs, “you are drunk and I must see Lord Vesemir about our travel-” 

“It is late. You might see to it in the morn,” she whines. 

He exhales again. He looks down at his boots and tilts his head to his side, but does not raises his eyes. He flicks his fingers in your direction, “close the door. I will see my wife abed.” 

Jazlene falls back and purrs. You can tell by the loll in her head that the wine will see her unconscious shortly. The king puts his hands to his hips and watches her as you back out and Gilles pulls shut the doors, not without undue force. 

“Go then, maid,” he snarls as he steps back against the wall. 

You obey. You are not certain whether to return to the chamber you shared with Ezme or to search out the servants’ quarters. You make no determination before you’re stopped the same slender shadow as the night previous. 

It is Ezme, as if she was summoned by the very thought of her. She is silent as she nods and turns to lead you onward. You follow without bidding. Your stomach churns as you already know she is not taking you to sleep. Something is amiss. 

You stop before a set of doors marked by iron vultures’ heads. She knocks and enters, letting you in after her. Within, Lord Vesemir sits before a fire, the glow flickering over him as he watches the flame. His shirt is untucked, his jacket disposed, and his hair hangs around his bullish face. 

“Dove, your wings cannot weather these winter winds,” he declares sonorously. 

You’re silent. Ezme closes the doors as you remain close to them. You peer around warily. She goes to the lord of the castle and he reaches to squeeze her hand. He brings it to his lips and kisses it. You blink as you stare at them. They are... 

“Please, sit down,” Vesemir insists, “I suppose we will be waiting some time for our king.” 

You don’t understand. Lord Vesemir and Ezme? A noble and a servant. Yet he warns King Geralt against the same with you. It is their manner, you suppose, to do what they would tell others not to. 

You don’t move. You crane to look at the doors then back to the maid and her master. It seems both Geralt and Vesemir agreed upon his attendance there that night but what place do you have there? You are not so brazen as to ask. 

You relent and come further into the chamber. You sit upon the wooden stool close to the wall as Ezme lights another lamp and sets it on the table. You wring your hands in your lap as you wait in silence. The lord lowers his head, patient as he closes his eyes. Or perhaps, fatigued as you are. 

Time sifts through the air like sand through a sieve. Slow and grinding. You stare at your skirts as the other maid drifts like a wraith and the lord sits as a statue. The longer you wait, the deeper the pit grows in your gut. You are owed no explanation but you long for one. 

Finally, there is a tap at the doors. Just the one. Hard but not violent. Ezme moves to open the door. You stand out of habit and a large shadow enters. It is the king. His golden eyes catch the lantern light as he sees the Lord sat before his hearth. 

“Vesemir, I have much to do before the sun.” 

“Aye, don’t I know,” the lord says calmly, “so you best listen and not waste time or breath.” 

The king angles his head, both curious and skeptical. You shift on your feet and the movement draws his attention. He winces as he sees you and his shoulders tense. He peers back at the lord in the light of the fire. He clears his throat. 

“Vesemir, what is your meaning here?” The king demands. 

[cheesagirl]

Please can you make something like gojo slept with his things inside his s/o and then morning she woke up shocked.

Satoru x Fem;Reader

Scenario: listed

Warnings: NSFW, ⚠️CNC⚠️ (Cnc means 'consensual non-consent, if you are not comfortable with that sort of idea please scroll away!!!!!!!)

Word count: 689

Side notes: Hope you enjoyyyy!! If you have nay requests please send them!! Be specific❤️

You and Satoru were a... vigorous couple, to say the least. You guys followed a routine, like anyone else.

Satoru would come home after another long day, and you would be there waiting for him, like the sweet doting wife you were. After an hour of chatting about your days, you would usually give Satoru a head massage which eventually led to you getting your insides completely rearranged while he whispered the most lewd things he could possibly think of in your ear.

Today was different. You had plans to visit some family, and wouldn't be able to make it home in time to greet Satoru when he came home. You also wouldn't be there to chat about your day, give him head rubs, or let him fuck you senseless into bed and to say Satoru was heartbroken would be an understatement.

By the time you had arrived home, you slipped into your nightgown and made yourself comfortable under the comforter, your eyes already growing heavy.

"How was seeing everyone sweets?" He asked, slipping under the blanket with you, seeking your body's warmth.

"It was good" I say, smiling as I felt his arms snake around my waist and his nose tickle my neck. "All that social interaction made me want to sleep for the next 5 days though" I say jokingly, letting my eyes drift closed and my body slump said against his.

Satoru was really trying to be a good person. He knew you didn't owe him sex every single day, and he wanted to respect that. He could live without sex for one night.

2:55 am.

Satoru Gojo apparently could not live without sex for one night. He hadn't gotten an ounce of sleep and the feeling of your body pressing against his was starting to become unbearable. His eyes stared at the way that cute little pink nightgown clung to your curves so perfectly, and before he knew it, he was slowly grinding himself into your ass, seeking some sort of relief.

It just wasn't enough, Satoru needed to feel your walls milk him, he needed to hear the sound of skin slapping together.

"Y/n, sweetheart" he mumbles against your ear, causing you to stir in your sleep, a whine escaping your parted lips.

He sighs, nuzzling his head into your neck, panting slightly. His hand moves to the silky fabric resting on your thigh, and he slowly pushes it up to your tits.

His breath hitches at the sight before him. "Still wet for me, even in your sleep huh" he clicks his tongue, running his finger along your slit, before slowly pushing it into you, causing you to squirm.

"Just the tip baby" he mutters, removing his finger before pushing his boxers down, guiding himself towards your entrance. He lets out a guttural groan as your juices coat his shaft, and he's even more delighted at the popping sound created by him pushing his tip inside.

"Just the tip" he repeats to himself, squeezing his eyes closed as he relishes the sensation of you wrapped so snuggly around him.

"Just a little more" he hissed, pushing himself deeper into you, and before he knew it, he was bottoming you out while peppering kisses along your neck. His dick twitched at every little whine and moan you let out in your sleep, but he eventually found himself growing more and more tired, the intimate position serving as a source of comfort for him.

7:00 am

You woke up to feel a knot in your belly, but after a few seconds of squirming, you realized that you were feeling Satoru's dick buried inside of you.

"Good morning sweets" You hear him mumble, his head buried in your hair.

"Got a little carried away last night?" I asked with widened eyes, slightly amused at the situation occurring.

"I needed to feel you baby" He pouts, a groan escaping him as I pushed myself against him, allowing him to move deeper.

"And she needed me," he adds, referencing to your drooling and achey pussy.

"Always does" you mumble, a smile playing at your lips.

-ˋˏ✄--------------------------------

Thanks for reading gorgeous!!

[storiesfromafan]

Rumours - Buck x Reader

A/N: okay, this is my first attempt at good old Gale 'Buck' Cleven, so please be nice 😅 And I am sorry in advance if its not that good haha.

Warnings: angst, possible grammer and spelling mistakes

Prompt: “You think I wanted this to happen? You think I, of all people, wanted to fall in love with you”

Tag list: @strayrockette

When you signed up to be a nurse during the war, you had been scared of what you would see. And see you did. Many times you questioned why you did it. But meeting both Buck and Bucky, you understood why. They were funny and sweet guys. Buck the more level headed one, while Bucky was a wild card. You never know what he would do. You did what you did for them, and men like them. They needed someone that was like home while doing what they did and through this war.

They took you into their circle. Making it hard to say no to their company, which you were grateful for after a long day after being on stand by, as those injured came in for treatment. The hurt and broken men you saw, it was heartbreaking and soul crushing. Yet you did your job. Helping Doctors and tending to those in recovery.

Over time you found yourself having a silly crush on Major Cleven. And when it turned to something more – love – you thought yourself foolish. He had a sweetheart back home, waiting for him patiently. So you put those feelings away, in a box which you locked and hid the key.

Unfortunately, a few of the other nurses, ones who you think fancied Bucky more than Buck, had it out for you. For rumours started to make the rounds about you and your affections. The way eyes would watch you as you entered a room. Silence falling between those that had clearly been conversing before your arrival. And then when you heard what they were saying, it hurt. It hurt because these people, whom you thought highly of, had tarnished your reputation.

“She's trying to steal another woman’s man, how shameless".

“I heard she's thrown herself at Major Cleven and Major Egan. It's why she's always with them".

“I always thought she had no morals. She’s always too friendly with the Doctors".

That was just some of the stuff you'd heard. So you took to distancing yourself from everyone. Only being present during your shifts, meetings or at meals. Otherwise you were in your quarters, walking around the base or going into town. It was lonely being separate from everyone. But you didn’t want to stir any new gossip.

Currently you were taking a walk around the base, enjoying the nice weather. You had been over worked the last few days, having a moment like this was just what you needed. In the distance you could hear the air crafts being worked on. But other then that, it was quiet. A contrast to back home and where you lived.

If only your peace was to last. Coming up behind you, as you were looking off into the vast open area and the blue sky, was Buck. He looked worried as he studied you. It felt like forever since he had spoken to you. He was concerned about you and how you were taking the rumours going around base. Ones which he and Bucky had been working to clear up.

You heard the rustle of grass from moving feet. But you remained where you were, waiting to know who it was. You had a fifty-fifty chance on knowing who it was, though you hoped it was Bucky.

“Hey" came Buck's soft voice. And squashing your hopes on Major Egan.

“Hi" you replied, still not turning around.

There was a moment of silence between you both. You hoping he wasn’t here to talk about what people were saying. While Buck was trying to think of how to say what he was thinking. He wanted you to know he didn't believe what was being said, that he knew you were a nice and good woman who didn't deserve this slander.

“Look, about what I've heard” Buck began, making you stiffen. “I don't believe what anyone has been saying, you know that right? You're not that kind of woman".

You nodded your head slowly. “W-what have you heard?” You asked, not entirely wanting to hear his answer.

Placing his hands on his hips, Buck looked down, unsure if he should answer your question. “Let's just say what I heard, I didn't like. And both myself and Bucky have been doing our best to shut it all down".

That was when you turned around, a sad but thankful smile on your face. Seeing your face and how worn out you look, it pulled at Buck's heartstrings. He could see you were tired, but that was due to the busy last few days. But also he could see the toll how this whole rumour thing was taking on you. When you distanced yourself, it broke his and Bucky's hearts.

They had come to enjoy your company, and your spirit. The three of you always finding something to talk about or laugh at, though it was usually at Bucky's antics. He never understood how women could be so catty. But in some cases, men are just as bad.

“Everything will be alright" Buck said, looking you in the eye. “Give it a few days and it should start to go back to how it was...”

You frowned. “I'm afraid the damage is done Buck. Even if people aren't saying it, they'll be thinking it. I'll be surprised if I don't get pulled in for a meeting over it...”

“Bucky and I will stand up for you".

“That might not be a good idea. It may only make it worse" your voice weary, eyes falling to the ground.

“But none of its true, right?” He questioned, hoping he sounded worried and not accusing.

You should have said no right away, though it might have given him the wrong idea. But the prolonged silence didn't help either. You avoided his eyes as Buck tried to meet them. You turned away from him and wrapped your arms around yourself.

“(Y/N), none of its true...?” Buck repeated himself, now with worry.

You sighed. “No...except for one thing...”

Buck moved closer to you. “What is true? You have to tell me so I, Bucky and I can help".

Thinking he was going to place a hand on your shoulder, you flinched, taking a few steps back. “I-it's embarrassing...and childish...”

Buck remained silent, urging you with his eyes to go on.

You sighed. “I-it's my feelings...for you" you ended on a whisper.

But Buck still heard it. He had heard how some women had gossiped about you being in love with him. And he had found it ridiculous. You were friends, that was it. So he had thought. But now, from your admission, those women had been right. Which didn't help the unease he was feeling over it all. He felt angry that they had spread your true feelings. Feelings you had kept to yourself, never acting on. Unlike some women he had seen. They were more shameless then you.

“I see...” he stated, voice calm and gentle.

“Yes...now you know how silly I am" you started, feeling tears rise in your eyes. “How silly I am to be in love with you. When I know I shouldn't".

“It's alright" Buck said reassuringly. “It happens...”

Those words hurt, like a slap to the face. Like he was trying to play it off, or sweep it under a rug. Like it didn't matter. Well it didn't, but some kind of assurance would have been nice. But in stead, Buck was keeping you at arms length over it. And it sparked different emotions in you; anger, frustration, hurt and sadness.

“You think I wanted this to happen? You think I, of all people, wanted to fall in love with you” you said with a strained voice. Tears in your eyes, which you were managing to hold back for now.

The look on Buck's face was like pity, how his eyes looked guilty and in despair. “(Y/N)...” his voice soft and weary.

“No Buck, don't" you held up a hand. “I don’t, can't hear it". A tear escaped and ran down your cheek. “I don't want to hear your kind words, as you let me down...I know you have Marge. And I shouldn't have let myself get carried away with being around you and Bucky. But you were both nice to me, the company that I needed. Yet I let my feelings get away from me...”

You dropped your hand, your shoulders slouching slightly as you looked down. Unable to face the gorgeous Major who'd stolen your heart. From the dashing smile, to his warm heart dancing with Meatball, and everything in between. Major Gale Cleven was the man of your dreams, but he belonged to another. A woman that Buck spoke fondly of on the nights when you had to bunker down as bombs went off near by. A woman that made you feel less than in just about every way, except being a nurse during the war.

“Marge is a lucky woman...” you stated with a small laugh. “You're lucky to have a woman like her waiting for you back home...no doubt you'll both be happy" you voice dropping at the end.

It was silent after that. You having said your piece, something that shouldn’t have been aired out, if it wasn’t for the other nurses. Buck was quiet because he was processing your words. Which struck a cord in him. And dare he say that he felt for you. Over this time together, bonded in the worst way, he had grown closer to you. He sort out your company and spirit, especially after returning from a mission that was tough. He revelled in your sunshine. Seeing you like this hurt his heart.

Neither knew what to say after all that. Buck had opened his mouth and closed it a few times. Hoping when he would go to speak the words would come to him, but there was nothing. He should have agreed with you, and said he appreciated your affections. But he couldn't. Because a small part of him liked this, and wanted it from you. And even a part of him at one point had entertained the idea of you.

But he let it be just that, a thought. He had a girl back home waiting, a sweet thing who wrote him letters and cared. Could he really lose that? Or juggle both? No, he wasn't that kind of guy. Yet Buck had feelings for you, that weren't entirely friendly.

“F-forget this ever happened Buck...” you said softly, so softly that Buck wondered if you spoke at all.

And with that, you took your leave. Heading back to your room. Back to solitude and your thoughts. It wasn't great, but its all you had till either people stopped being asses. Or the war was over. Which ever happened first.

[that-tom-allen]

Hello, Tom Allen!

I am keeping my husband locked in a CB6000s for some days in the last year.

He and I are trying to make him cum in his cage without sucess.

Is it really possible to acchieve this goal?

May you provide some suggestions? With and without pegging?

Thank you!!!

🔐 First, I think that it is great to see a wife who has found enjoyment with this, and one who also tries to push some limits on her husband.

That said, remember that cages are meant to prevent men from having orgasms through direct stimulation of their penis. For most men, direct stimulation is the only path to orgasm that they have ever known, so being able to develop new pathways may not be easy, or even successful.

However, since the idea of not needing direct stimulation is so exciting, not to mention that it's fun to make one's partner have an orgasm, most couples that practice locking their man will make an effort to have him orgasm in his cage.

There are a few ways to approach this. The first one on most people's list is pegging. Since @mrs--edge does not indulge (her philosophy is that I am locked up for her pleasure, and not to indulge my own), I will point you to a website on the topic. Note that prostate orgasms take a lot of practice

The next thing to try is using a vibrator on (and around!) the cage. We have a Hitachi Magic Wand which neither of us cares for; while it is powerful and will lead to an orgasm, I found that generally even the slow speed is too buzzy for me, and an orgasm does not feel very good. However, that's me. A lot of guys really enjoy it, and the orgasm in the cage will certainly "take the edge off" his horniness.

For a lot of guys, though, the default method involves shaking and manipulating the cage. This works for some men because, even though it is not direct stimulation, the pressure and movements stimulate enough nerves inside their bodies. This may not work consistently, and you may need to try it for several weeks before it will work, but it would probably be fun trying.

And that leads me to where my wife and I are on the list.

My wife and I have sex frequently, although as I am always locked, I wear a strapon harness and a Vixskin Ranger for her (the practice of called #foxing). Because our sex is kind of hot, and we tend to make each other more excited with some dirty talk, a lot of moaning, and some scratching and biting, I become very close to having an orgasm just from the mental and emotional connection we make. However, sometimes the pressure of my cage pushing against her ass is very rhythmic, and triggers something inside me, and an orgasm will start to build. I have to let her know that I'm getting close, and ask permission to come. When she decides that I should have one, I find that I'm pushing against her pretty hard, which must be moving things around inside me. A man's erection extends several inches inside his body, and I'm sure that the muscles and connective tissue being moved around is what triggers an orgasm for me.

Note that when we were first doing this, those orgasms barely counted. They felt ruined, and often left me feeling incomplete. It took several years of not having any other type of release until they became powerful, pleasurable, and very intense. You may not get to this stage, but I often joke that my brain has been "rewired" to enjoy coming this way, because they are definitely as good as how I remember orgasms in the old days. Of course, I am only allowed to have them very infrequently, so...

[harrywavycurly]

What You Deserve Part 13: Not Like Him

Masterlist: Here

🚨THIS CHAPTER GOES INTO DETIAL OF WHAT YOUR EX HAS PUT YOU THROUGH SO READ THE CW/TW VERY CAREFULLY PLEASE🚨

CW/TW: Mentions of toxic behavior, gaslighting, tiny bit of eluding to your ex getting physical with you (no actual descriptions of the abuse is mentioned), language, mentions of drinking, yelling, emotional manipulation.

Tag List: @littlered0000 @saramelaniemoon @ali-r3n @sapphire4082 @sweetmoonlove0214 @eddies-girl-22 @darknesseddiem @peaches-roses-sins @blckburd @comeonatmebruh @daisy-munson @cultish-corner @mrsjellymunson @aol19 @micheledawn1975 @2000babies @marshmallowgem @ang3lc @angelina16torres-blog @transparentenemypenguin @alilstressyandlotdepressy @josephquinnsfreckles @plk-18

A/N: I know it’s been ages but I just had a spark of inspo for these two so I think it’s time you tell Eddie more about your last relationship but as always Eddie is wonderful with a dash of protectiveness tossed in for the girlies who asked for it, enjoy✨

“I don’t know how you drive this thing sweetheart it’s a bit like driving a boat.” You send Eddie a glare from the passenger seat as he pulls into your driveway and he just bites back the smirk that’s itching to take over his face when he looks over at you, he knows his mistake so he’s quick to give your thigh a little squeeze with the hand that’s been resting there since he decided to drive you home from your shift at Family Video about half an hour ago. “I mean that in the nicest way possible of course because you know I adore Dave.” He adds making you roll your eyes as you reach down to grab your bag but of course Eddie beats you to it, taking his hand off your thigh so he can lean down and grab your backpack before getting out of the car.

You watch him sling a strap of your backpack over his shoulder as he walks around to your door so he can open it for you. This being one of the things that took a few months to get used to and even now sometimes he shoots you a warning look before he gets out of the car as a reminder for you to stay seated until he comes to help you out. As much as you want to keep up your annoyed act the moment the door opens and he gives you his signature Munson smile you can’t help but return it with a smile of your own as he holds out his hand for you to take. Eddie gives your hand a firm squeeze once you take it and allow him to help you out of your car, you don’t even try to take your bag from him because you know it’s no use so instead you just let him close your door with his free hand and begin leading you up your fairly new front porch.

“Before we go inside I need you to acknowledge the non dead plants I’ve had for over two weeks now.” Eddie looks around the porch and smiles when he sees two potted plants on a little table in the corner next to a rocking chair. “I think I want to get some fairy lights so it’s more cozy out here when I’m having my coffee or just being a nosey neighbor.” You explain as you dig around in your pocket for your house key and Eddie just nods as he sees a few other little decorations you’ve added like the ceramic turtle that’s next to the bottom step that has a boot brush where the shell is and he can’t help but wonder if you got that for him so he doesn’t bring his dirty boots into your house after working on cars all day.

“I’ll get you a few boxes and put them up this weekend.” He tells you as you unlock the front door, now normally Eddie would unlock and then open the door for you because he is programmed to be a gentleman especially with you but he knows this moment is something you’ve been waiting on for the past three weeks ever since you agreed to move into his old trailer that he gave you a tour of about a month ago. “Also I’m very impressed with your plants baby good job on keeping them alive.” He watches your cheeks turn his favorite shade of pink as he leans over and places a kiss to the heated skin.

“Thank you.” Your voice is a soft mumble but you know he hears you because of the smile he gives you. “Well uh here she is.” You let go of Eddie’s hand so you can open the front door and walk in first allowing you to hold the door open for him. You try to hide your nervousness as you watch him take a few steps inside what used to be his home, a piece of information you didn’t take lightly when you finally told him you’d like to move in and started to slowly make it feel like yours because a part of you still wanted Eddie to feel somewhat at home here even though his actual house is now fifteen minutes away and contains a few more bedrooms.

“It looks great Princess.” You smile and rub your lips together as he makes his way further into the living room looking at the bookshelf you have tucked away in the corner. You watch him slowly reach up and run a finger over the spine of a worn out copy of The Lord of The Rings and you can’t help but feel anxious so you take a few steps towards him and before you can’t stop yourself words are leaving your mouth a mile a minute trying to fix the issue your mind has created before Eddie can get upset.

“I found a box of books and stuff in the closet of the bedroom and figured they deserved to be put out because what kinda book just wants to be shoved in a box in the back of a closet ya know? But if you want them back that’s fine too I’m so sorry I-I should’ve asked you first before just-” Your rant is cut off by Eddie dropping your backpack to the floor and turning so he is facing you allowing him to gently place both hands on your face so he’s cupping your cheeks, his thumbs softly rubbing over your cheekbones.

“You don’t have to apologize for putting books on a bookshelf.” He reassures you but he knows you need a little more than that so he leans down and places a kiss to your forehead making you sigh as your hands come up to wrap around his wrists. “I used to read these over and over because it was my escape from the world around me and I left them here because I didn’t feel like I needed them anymore but I’m glad you found them.” He gives you a smile as you squeeze his wrists letting him know you’re listening to what he’s saying. “What’s mine is yours right? So feel free to read them or if you want I’ll happily read them to you.” Eddie watches you relax as you take in every word he’s telling you.

“I just-I don’t want to make you mad.” You explain and Eddie just nods his head in understanding because he knows, he knows you’re used to the men in your life being easily set off so you’re always ready to try to apologize or makeup for whatever it is that made them upset. “But uhm I like the idea of you reading them to me? I’ve never read them before but I know they are like about magical rings and stuff?” Eddie just smiles as you let go of his wrists and his hands fall from your face as he turns to take another look at the bookshelf.

“I don’t want to spoil it too much for you but yeah it has magical rings in it.” You just watch him look at a few of your personal books before he turns and heads towards the kitchen with you following behind him. “I like how cozy it is in here.” His voice is soft and soothing as he takes a look around the kitchen. You have a basic coffee maker on one counter with your mug collection in the cabinet above it, a green and white rug underneath your small kitchen table that has a few photos hanging on the wall behind it and that’s where you find Eddie pausing for a moment and you automatically know which photo has caught his attention.

“Figured you’d hang this up somewhere.” You smile as he looks at the same photo you found the first time he showed you the trailer, the one of all the members of the Hellfire Club but more importantly the one that shows you how long his hair was at one point in his life and how long he keeps reminding you he is more than happy to grow it for you if you’d like him to. “Know you love the hair.” He looks at you and you feel your cheeks get warm at the playful wink he shoots you before he walks over to take a look inside your pantry and fridge.

“I know I need-”

“We can go grocery shopping tomorrow after I pick you up from work.” Is all he says as he softly closes the fridge and you just nod and begin to mess with the ring on your index finger, the giant skull one Eddie not so subtly left for you a few days ago with your morning coffee and a note saying he hopes you’ll wear it more than he does since he can’t have it on when working on cars or teaching classes at the gym. But deep down you know it’s just his way of giving you something he saw caught your eye and he knows you’re too shy to actually tell him you like it enough to ask him for it.

“May I?” You look up from the spot on the floor you found yourself staring at while lost in your own thoughts just to find Eddie motioning towards your bedroom door with a raised brow.

“Oh yeah sure go on in.” You offer him a small smile before he turns his attention back towards your bedroom door giving the knob a hard twist making it open, a trick you take a mental note of because you often find yourself fighting with the old doorknob trying to get it to open for you when you’re rushing around in the mornings.

You don’t follow Eddie into your room, you just give him space to allow him to see how someone else decided to go about decorating the room that he once spent so much of his time in. You quietly turn and head out into your living room and sit on your cream colored couch and wait for him. The bedroom isn’t that big so you know it won’t take him long but still you don’t want to make him feel rushed with you standing in the kitchen watching him from the doorway. Eddie can’t fight the grin that immediately takes over his face as soon as he enters your bedroom, the feeling of being surrounded by everything you is the same feeling as being wrapped up in a blanket fresh from the dryer, soft and warm. He notices a few photos of you and Steve on your little desk in the corner and he tries to burry his jealousy at the fact the two of you don’t have any photos in your space yet but maybe that’s something he can ask if you’re comfortable with later on. He runs his hand over your comforter and he finds himself not satisfied with the softness of it but that’s an easy fix, well easy if you’re in a good mood and are willing to go shopping with him but that can wait for another day because right now he is just focusing on the fact he’s standing in your bedroom in a house that you allowed him to help move you into and pay for.

It’s not at all lost on Eddie the main reason you’re even in his old home to begin with, you need to live somewhere you feel safe being alone at and your old place just isn’t an option any longer due to your ex boyfriend. Eddie doesn’t take your safety lightly, having already had a security system installed and a new ring doorbell camera set up before you moved in for extra peace of mind. It also helps that almost everyone in the trailer park has known Eddie since he was in middle school so once he told them he had someone he cared about moving in you were almost guaranteed to be monitored by the neighborhood watch, no one would be stopping by without Eddie hearing about it one way or another.

“I love it.” Eddie doesn’t miss the way you jump slightly at the sound of his voice as he enters the living room but he doesn’t comment on it, instead he just gives you a warm smile as he takes a seat next to you on the couch. “I really mean it baby I think it looks great and I like the little things of mine you decided to put out with your stuff.” You look down at your hands that are in your lap so Eddie just reaches over and places one of his hands on your knee and gives it a little squeeze making you finally meet his gaze.

“I wasn’t allowed to-or uhm more like he didn’t like it when I had a bunch of stuff out everywhere so I’ve never gotten to just decorate the way I’ve wanted.” You have to look away from Eddie’s intense stare as you talk and while normally he is very big on eye contact while speaking he knows not to push it with you when it comes to you talking about your ex, only having brought him up one other time so Eddie just sits and lets you talk while his hand gently rubs soothing circles on your knee. “He used to make me feel like I was such a mess all the time because I liked having things out like my book on my nightstand or a stack of magazines on the coffee table and one time he-he just ripped them all up when he came over after a bad day at work and I-I felt so bad for making him upset that I just made sure to never leave stuff like that out anymore.” Eddie tries to not let his emotions get the best of him so he just nods his head letting you know his listening but when you let out a shaky breath he has to physically stop himself from storming out of the house and finding the shitty hole in the wall bar he knows William is more than likely at right now and giving him a piece of his mind without exactly using his words.

“He would get so mad at me for the smallest things like one time I was making coffee too loud so he just took the pot and threw it on the floor and then got upset at me for the mess I made him make.” You swallow the lump that’s forming in your throat as you feel Eddie’s hand give your knee a firm squeeze reminding you that he’s here. “God he was so good at making me feel like everything he did to me was my own fault and that it was just him giving me what I deserved because if I was just a better girlfriend he-he wouldn’t have to drink so much and if he didn’t drink so much then he wouldn’t get so mad and if he didn’t get so mad then-then that night wouldn’t have happened and-” Your words get lost in your throat as you feel a few tears slide down your face as you sniffle and turn to look at the bookshelf, your eyes landing on one of Eddie’s old ones.

You don’t know why you felt the need to unload all of this on Eddie right now of all times but you couldn’t stop yourself and you know at the end of the day it’ll just help him better understand why sometimes you look at him like he truly isn’t real because you really aren’t used to nice guys. A big part of you wants to tell him everything so it’s all just out there and he can get the full picture of who William was and get why you need him to be patient with you but it’ll come with time and as Eddie loves to remind you, the two of you have all the time in the world because he’s not going anywhere anytime soon. But sometimes you do find yourself wishing William wouldn’t have left you feeling so broken because Eddie treats you in a way that makes you feel a little nervous at times but you know it shouldn’t because he’s just treating you the way you actually deserve.

“You know it wasn’t your fault right?” Eddie’s voice is soft but with a slight edge to it because he needs you to fully grasp what he’s saying as he reaches over with his free hand and tucks some of your hair behind your ears as you look back down at your hands. “You didn’t deserve to be treated like that and I’m so sorry he made you think otherwise.” His hand slides to the back of your neck making you relax under his touch and before you can process what’s happening Eddie is ever so gently pulling you into his chest as he drops his hand from your knee so your hands can grip onto his dress shirt that you know is going to need to be dry cleaned due to the wrinkles and tear stains you’re causing.

“He wasn’t worthy of you and he knew it that’s why he tried so hard to make you think you deserved his subpar treatment because he knew the moment you realized he wasn’t good enough or worth your time it would be over for him so he tried to manipulate you in all the worst ways possible in order to get you to stay and I’m so sorry you had to put up with that.” Eddie places a kiss to the side of your head as he begins to run a hand up and down your back as you rest your cheek against the soft fabric of his work shirt. “But I’m so proud of you for leaving him baby that’s the hardest thing to do in those kind of situations but you did it.” You sniffle as a few more tears stream down your cheeks at Eddie’s words because while your friends had told you the same thing it just felt different hearing it come from him.

“You’re nothing like him.” You mumble and you know it’s an obvious statement but you haven’t said it out loud to Eddie before and you just felt like he deserved to hear you say it. “You make me feel safe.” Eddie feels like he could actually burst the moment the words leave your lips, he just smiles and places a few kisses to the side and top of your head.

“You’ll always be safe with me Princess.” You just let out a hum in response and smile to yourself as you snuggle into his chest.

“You think Wayne would like how I decorated?” Eddie looks around for a moment after you ask your question and while his dad may have liked some questionably tacky nascar or other random goodwill finds of his own and preferred a more brown centered color pallet he doesn’t feel like he’s being dishonest at all when he answers.

“Oh yeah baby he’d love it.” He feels you smile against his chest as his hand continues rubbing soothingly up and down your back. “Especially your mug collection.”

[totheblood]

true blue. (three)

pairing: modern!ellie williams x reader

summary: ellie buys a scone and you drink a shirley temple

warnings: suggestive themes, drug/alcohol usage, cursing, descriptions of abusive behavior (neither ellie or reader engages in these behaviors)

a/n: i love writing as ellie writing in her journal... also the ai audios were a bitch to make this time... hope u like them THIS IS NOT PROOFREAD - I apologize.

here is the masterlist where you can read part one and two!

Ellie wanted nothing more than to pretend the last two days of her life didn’t exist.

But that wasn’t possible. This was real life and Ellie had received a booty call from her most recent heartbreak merely hours after she had her fingers tucked inside of her ex. Ellie wasn’t even completely sure why she was entertaining it, but she knew that whatever choice she made she would curse herself forever. 

The truth was that Ellie had missed Cat almost as much as she hated her. There’s a certain kind of comfort that only your first love can bring, and a certain kind of addiction Ellie had for her. But at the end of the day, it always came down to one thing: Ellie wanted to be known by someone.

And she was known by Cat, albeit for only for a few months, but still she was known. Cat saw all the worst parts of her and still held her like glass every night. She saw the things that Ellie couldn’t even imagine liking about herself and turned them into something beautiful. Ellie’s heart had been harbored in the chest of Cat’s for almost a year and that was something you couldn’t just forget.

Then there was you. Ellie had known you all for a few weeks and was already entranced by you. She liked the little things you did, like buy her tea after realizing she didn’t like coffee or how you always printed an extra sheet of notes knowing she would forget to bring hers to class. What astonished Ellie even more was that you did most of this while she was giving you the cold shoulder.

What plagued Ellie about this was that she knew for a fact that if she got to know you, she would fall in love with you. She had already written down a list of things about you in her journal and she was starting to feel like she was going insane.

Likes a lot of sugar in her coffee… too much sugar almost, made a comment about it and she told me ‘that’s why she was so sweet’.. It was corny as fuck. She’s fucking adorable.

This little freak told me how she communicates with squirrels, she waves her arm or some shit, i told her she was clinically insane… AND THEN SHE DID IT??? She moved her arm and a fucking squirrel ran up to us… what the fuck, is this girl magic?

She smiles everytime she sees me, even after I’ve been a jerk.. Dina told me I should drop it but I can’t, when I see her stupid beautiful face I remember Cat, am i the crazy one?

She looked so sad today. I wanted to ask her what was wrong but I didn’t… I’m such an asshole sometimes. I don’t know why I do this to myself. If I was her I’d run the other way but she just sticks around… who does that?

I swear she’s playing mind games with me, her shirt was so tight today that i just

 She smells like cherry and vanilla… almost want to take a bite

She didn’t text me about the project today… is she forgetting about me?

Ellie never thought she would be in this predicament. She never imagined having a sense of loyalty to you, but a part of her felt that if she went over to Cat’s she would be betraying you. 

So she didn’t.

That Saturday morning Ellie went to Bean and picked up the strawberry scone you love so much and your coffee with extra sugar and headed over to your dorm. As she approached your building her palms got increasingly more sweaty. She was quickly losing the confidence she had when she was with you yesterday, but she was determined to start fresh with you. 

She even imagined the two of you bonding over shitty exes, kissing all the places they refused to. She imagined crying in your lap instead of Dina’s and kissing the inside of your thigh when she finally felt better. She imagined taking a bath with you, you rubbing whatever sickly sweet cherry scent you were obsessed with over her body. She was imagining a lot of things, but she was getting ahead of herself. 

Ellie knocked about five times before deciding that you were asleep. Just as she turned to leave she heard a groan from the other side of the door.

“Ugh, hello?” Your voice came out raspy, evidence of last night in your voice. 

“Um, hi… it’s me.” Ellie spoke, her throat getting a little bit dry. “It’s Ellie.”

“Oh shit, Ellie.” You opened the door quickly ushering her in. She stepped in and watched as you put a hand on your forehead, the hangover written all over your face. It was evident that you had slept in your make-up, as she could see the mascara smudged across your face. You looked like a fucking mess, but Ellie thought you looked beautiful.

Suddenly, she was shy again. “Fun night, huh?” She joked, trying to lighten the mood.

“Yeah, it was fucking fantastic.” You replied sarcastically, climbing back onto your bed and patting the spot next to you, ushering Ellie to join you. “What’cha got there?” You questioned, eyes glancing at the bag and cup she had resting in her hands. 

“Oh it’s, uh, it’s that scone you like… and your sugar coffee.” She walked over to where you were, handing you the bag and cup as she sat down next to you. She smiled as she watched your features soften as you blinked up at her, a small genuine smile on your face. 

“For me?” You beamed. Ellie noticed two things right away: you had tears in your eyes, and no one had ever done something like this for you before. It was so small in terms of gestures, but Ellie’s heart swelled with pride as you thanked her.

She watched you take a bite, before you closed your eyes and gave her a fake moan. “This is so fucking good. I needed this.” 

“I’m glad.” She gently nudged your shoulder with hers. 

“Ellie… I don’t mean this to be rude, but why are you here?” You asked reluctantly. She could tell you weren’t trying to be rude so she didn’t take any real offense to it. If Ellie was being honest with herself she couldn’t exactly place why she was here either. All she knew was that she didn’t want to be at Cat’s. She also knew that she wanted to hang out with you, but the more she sat here the more she realized she should’ve asked you. 

“Oh I, I just wanted to talk about yesterday…” She came up with the lie quickly knowing it may be the only thing that made sense. “And what that means for us… not that there is an us but… you know.”

All you did was nod and take another bite of your scone. “What does it mean for us?” 

She took a deep breath as she eyed you. You truly were the eighth wonder of the world to her. It was like there was something that was always pulling her towards you. At first she thought that something was Cat, but there was no way that whatever attraction she had to you was based on Cat alone. 

You were completely different. When she spoke, it was obvious you were listening. It was like you wanted to hear what she had to say. You laughed at her lame joke and never made her feel like an idiot for making them. When she got quiet you would try to bring her out of her shell by telling her stupid puns. She was mad at you at the time, but her heart still appreciated it. You never let her look stupid in class or in public. One time you even got down on your knee and tied her shoe for her. You were heaven incarnate, and you made her feel like she was deserving of that.

“I just… I think when I met you it scared me how much I liked you. I had just gotten broken up with and I couldn’t get into another thing… you know? But there you were with your sweet fucking voice and pens and I just.. I shut down and I pulled away from you and I know yesterday felt so sudden but I had been thinking about doing that for a while now. I think I want to know you more, but in order to do that I think we should start over. Clean slate. Act like my fingers were never inside you and all that. Maybe even let me take you out on a date.” Ellie rambled out, carefully watching your face for any reaction that would give you away. 

“Oh Ellie,” You whispered, your voice soft and tender. You brought a hand up to push her hair behind her ears, ignoring how her face flushed and grew hot. “I would love that. But I refuse to forget those fingers.”

“They’re good fingers, right?” She was beaming up at you, freckled and starry eyed. “How about tomorrow for that date?” 

“Works for me.” You smiled, pressing a soft kiss to her lips. This had felt more like a first kiss to Ellie than anything she had done prior. It was gentle and sweet and left her pulse racing. It was the kind of kiss that she closed her eyes for, hoping it would last longer. It was the kind of kiss you held your breath for.

-

It had been almost three weeks since you and Ellie started going out, and she was on the verge of asking you to be her girlfriend. That title was still sore in her chest but she was fighting through it for you. 

You were someone who had ‘girlfriend’ written all over them. You were the type of person people would want to call their girlfriend. You always kissed Ellie goodbye, held her hand as much as possible, and best of all you gave really good head. Ellie was trying to be less vulgar and more romantic but the minute you started working her with your tongue, she became 16 again. 

Ellie had made it a habit to add more about you in her journal after every date you had, the scribbles getting more frantic as the time went on. She felt like a fucking child.

She ordered a Shirley Temple at dinner today… At first I was like??? What the fuck? But then she took the cherry stem and tied it with her tongue. THEN she told me that she was going to show me again later… and in my head I’m like??? But then later came and… well so did I.

We saw a stray cat on our walk today and it approached us… a cat has never fucking approached me in my life? Maybe I have shit vibes or something.. But not my girl, she’s like a fucking rainbow. She pet it and made a comment about getting pussy. I’m crushing on the girl I’m going out with.

This little weirdo made me a mug in her pottery class, carved her name into a heart and everything. Even said the heart was mine.. It was so fucking cute… her… not the mug. The mug was ugly as fuck. She did her best.

Joel came for family day today and met her. He told me she was cute but a little fucking weird, just like me. What an asshole. I counted the amount of times she made him laugh. It was 24. 24 times in 2 hours. Joel Miller has never laughed that much in his entire life. But the fact that he likes her so much makes my heart warm. I don’t even mind that he might like her more than me.

She had been begging to hang out with my friends so Dina and Jesse and us went on a double date. Her and Dina act like they know each other. They were all giggly. It was gross. Jesse even seems to like her. He gave her the last bread in the basket. JESSE! Jesse did that. It seems small but that’s like something he never does. I’m starting to believe this girl is a witch… I’m starting to believe I’m in love with her.

I’ve been writing her a song on the guitar. She saw the guitar in my room one time and called me “her little rockstar”... what a fucking nerd. She asked me to play for her but I got nervous… that has never happened before… What are you doing to me????

Ellie was smitten. Ellie was so smitten that she almost forgot about Cat. Almost. Because at this very moment Cat was charging towards her as she sat on the grass with her journal in her hands.

“Hey.” Cat sighed, sitting down next to Ellie.

“What do you want, Cat?” Ellie grunted out, moving over so she wasn’t sat so close to her. 

“You never came by.” She sounded genuinely sad, so much so that it threw Ellie off. 

“I got busy.” Ellie wanted this to be over so badly.

“With my ex? If you two are playing the long game it isn’t going to work. I don’t care.” Cat replied, anger almost evident in your voice. 

“How is my relationship about you?” This time Ellie turned towards Cat, closing the journal in your hands.

“It’s obvious what you guys are doing. This little act to make me upset, yeah, it’s not working. You’re both my exes for a reason” She spat.

“Not everything is about you. She doesn’t even know I’m your ex, you have never come up in our conversations.” Ellie was getting annoyed, but instead Cat just laughed, something sinister filling her eyes.

“Oh, you don’t know?” Cat snorted.

“Know what?” Ellie questioned, trying to keep the anger in her voice to a minimum. 

“She hated you, Ellie. Thought you were the one I left her for. Technically she was right, but she called me to curse me out about it. Showed me the birthday post I made you with literal tears in her eyes.” 

And if Ellie’s heart was broken by Cat, it was absolutely shattered by you.

ai audios:

i've reached my daily limit for audios (tumblr hates happy people) so i have attached them as links this time.. cause i did not work so hard on them for them not to be posted.

oh i just wanted to talk about yesterday

i just i think when i met you it scared me

they're good fingers, right?

[scary-grace]

Opposites Attract (Chapter 3) - a Shigaraki x f!Reader fic

Your quirk lets you capture almost anyone with ease, and you can't believe you let Shigaraki Tomura escape. Shigaraki can't believe it, either, and according to the League, there's only one possible explanation -- you let him go because you've fallen in love with him. He decides to find out if it's true. You decide you won't fail to capture him again. You both get a lot more than you bargained for. (cross-posted to Ao3)

Chapters: 1 2 3 4

Chapter 3

You don’t notice the envelope that’s been shoved under your front door until you trip on it, and even once you pick it up, you’re not sure it’s for you. The name scrawled on the front of it is almost illegible, but after studying it for a few seconds you’re able to determine that it does in fact say Skynet. Maybe it’s hate mail. Even if your public profile’s improved significantly since the incident with the train, someone could have mailed this last week and you’re just finding it now.

You were in the hospital for three days. Getting dragged by a train isn’t the kind of thing you can just walk off. If you’d had the boots from your costume, you would have been able to anchor yourself, and with your feet planted and a good grip on a magnetic field nearby, you’d have avoided getting pulled off your feet. But you didn’t have your boots, because Yue made you wear heels, and you fractured your femur when one of them got caught in the rails. You also dislocated your shoulder, bit a chunk out of the inside of your cheek, and picked up the road rash from hell on the entire anterior of your body. It’s the worst set of injuries you’ve gotten in your career, and there wasn’t a single villain involved.

It got you off the public’s shit list, though, and it taught you something important about your quirk. If a metal has a distinct profile, different from what’s around it, you can latch onto just that metal and avoid drawing in anything else. Bullet-train steel is a beast of its own, unlike everything else in the area, which allowed you to focus all your power on it without ripping downtown Tokyo apart. So you can use Magnetism on a larger scale, as long as you know exactly what you’re aiming for. Most of the time, you don’t, and most of the time, there are too many metals with similar properties for you to yank one towards you without pulling up everything else. But it’s good to know that there are some cases where it’s safe to let loose.

You employ your metal sense on the envelope you’re holding and find only inert compounds, no moving parts. Nothing dangerous in here. You open it, fumbling slightly, and pull out a 500-yen coin. There’s a note wrapped around it. The handwriting on the note is just as bad as the handwriting on the envelope. Worse, maybe, because so much of it is crossed out, but in between all the cross-outs you’re able to make out a pair of sentences. Nice job with the train. Buy yourself a flower or something.

Huh. Whoever sent it didn’t leave a name, or a return address, and the note is sort of abrupt – but it’s still a nice note. And a nice thing to do. Maybe you will buy yourself a flower or something. Or maybe you’ll save the coin, so there’s evidence of the first time somebody thanked you personally for something heroic you did. Or evidence of the first truly heroic thing you’ve done in your career. One of the two.

You had some time to think in the hospital, and you thought a lot of things over. Some thoughts are ones you’ve had for a while, like the thought that stopping petty criminals isn’t actually that heroic, especially when they’re stealing things like food, warm clothes in the winter, or water bottles in the summer. Some are thoughts that make you wonder if you got a concussion during the train incident – like the idea that the existence of hero as a profession creates a demand for villains, and an incentive to expand the definition of villain as much as possible. The people you’re expected to arrest for stealing food from a convenience store aren’t in the same category as one of the various yakuza groups. They’re not even close to the League of Villains.

Those are the kind of thoughts you should keep to yourself if you want to have friends. You sit down on your couch and log into the hero network, seeing that you’ve got a pileup of messages. A lot of them are from heroes congratulating you on the train rescue. When you look closer at them, about a third of them were pretty clearly prompted by their agencies, as evidenced by the request to stop by their offices “at your earliest convenience” to “discuss your future”. After the way everyone’s been treating you, it rings pretty hollow.

Some of the messages are about team-ups, or requests to join missions. Those are usually about taking down actual criminals, which you’re still interested in, and most of them are yellow-flagged – important, but not urgent. You wouldn’t be able to respond to urgent ones. Even though UA’s Recovery Girl made a special trip out to Tokyo to heal your leg, you’re still supposed to rest for at least three more days.

Social media next. You took it off private while you were in the hospital, then forgot about it, and now you’re looking at an influx of followers and a ton of private messages. You get into the messages and start deleting anything that looks like a pickup line, which clears things out a bit. There are sponsorship offers, too, although why anybody wants to sponsor a hero whose twin claims to fame are letting the League of Villains slip through her fingers and getting dragged by a train is absolutely beyond you. You leave the offers alone for now. Time to look at the actual people who messaged you.

One in particular catches your eye. The profile picture is a cloudburst and most of the page is aesthetic photos – usually of clouds, with a secondary theme of purple things. The message doesn’t match the content of the page at all. Which iron supplements would you recommend for someone with iron-deficiency anemia?

You message back. Hi. I’m not a doctor. It would probably be best to ask a doctor about this.

Medical care is not universally accessible. What is the best supplement to use?

That was a fast response, but they’re right, whoever they are – Japan might have universal healthcare, but there are still a lot of reasons why somebody might not feel comfortable going to a doctor. And you do have some familiarity with this stuff. Of the supplements, sublingual is best. The capsules or the pills can do stuff to your digestive system. You want something that dissolves.

In what dosage?

It depends on your height, weight, and the severity of your anemia, you answer, only to remember that this person probably isn’t running off to the lab for a blood panel. Just go by what’s on the bottle. But honestly, the best way to improve your iron is to eat more iron-rich foods. That’s how your body really wants to absorb it.

Which foods?

Whoever this is could just look it up, but you’re feeling benevolent right now. Shellfish, legumes, fish, quinoa, spinach, red meat, dark chocolate, tofu, broccoli, pumpkin seeds. Organ meat is good for that, too.

He is not going to eat any of that.

If you have the right recipe, basically all of it tastes good, you reply. You’re about to send this person a link to your favorite recipe site, but then something clicks in your head – something about who’d ask you these questions, who wouldn’t be able to go to a doctor and get bloodwork done, or iron infusions prescribed. He wouldn’t refer to himself in the third person, which means the person messaging you right now can only be – Kurogiri?

Thank you for your assistance, Kurogiri says, and blocks you. All you can do is stare down at your phone in horror.

Shigaraki still has his anemia, it sounds like. Kurogiri is trying to help him treat it, but it must not be going well. You know next to nothing about Shigaraki, but it’s hard to imagine him popping an iron supplement or sitting down to a healthy meal. You weren’t on any of the teams during the first Kamino incident, but you heard things about what Shigaraki’s room was like when they searched it, and it sounds like he eats – or ate – a lot of processed food. He’s probably deficient in everything else along with the iron. If you end up being the one who finally apprehends him, you’ll probably swing by an urgent care on the way to the nearest police station so you can quantify just how not-okay he is.

You’re not sure why it bothers you. Except that Shigaraki’s supposed to be All For One’s heir, and All For One was funding the League, and apparently still had enough money left over to put himself in a tailored, custom-made suit for his showdown with All Might. All For One was loaded. If he had all that money, why didn’t he spend some of it on taking care of his successor? It’s not really a question you’re equipped to answer. You’re not a supervillain or a criminal mastermind. You’re not even investigating the League yourself. You’re just some hero who was there when they attacked. You don’t need to think about him any more than that.

It. You don’t need to think about it. The League, the fight at Kamino, anything. Sure, asking Shigaraki about his symptoms broke his focus so badly that you’d have had him dead to rights if Kurogiri hadn’t shown up, and sure, Kurogiri was messaging you on Instagram thirty seconds ago, but this has nothing to do with you.

You set your phone aside and roll the 500-yen coin between your fingers, first palm-side, then knuckle-side, then alternating, in an exercise you’ve been practicing since you were little to improve your control over your quirk. Maybe you’ll keep the coin. You can afford to buy your own flowers, but this is something you want to hang onto.

Life goes back to normal at shocking speed as soon as you’ve recovered from your injuries. Saving approximately three hundred people and getting dragged behind a train in the process is apparently enough to cancel out letting the League of Villains escape, and you’re back to being an approximate zero in the public consciousness. Which is how you like it. Even when you were at UA, you were never very interested in the spotlight – not because you don’t need the money you’d get from sponsorships, endorsements, and high-profile missions, but because your quirk was too much to handle, and the bigger the spotlight was, the more likely it was to catch you in a fatal mistake.

You’re out of the spotlight, but you’re a little busier than usual. When you went to work with Eraserhead’s class again, they had questions about how you stopped the train, and the girl with the Creation quirk suggested memorizing the profile of specific alloys, the ones commonly used in cars, buses, and building supports. That way you could focus your power on only objects with the specific profile rather than exerting a general pull and destroying whole city blocks. You decided it couldn’t hurt to give it a shot, and after a few days of memorizing the metallic profiles of the twenty most common car makes and models in Japan, you averted a car accident by magnetizing one of the two out-of-control vehicles and hoisting it – it, and only it – out of the way.

You can’t memorize every alloy on the planet, some of the alloys show up in almost everything, and the risk of tipping too many gravitational fields and causing a chain reaction is just as present as ever. But you’re a little more useful now. A little better at saving people. You’ve been wondering lately if it might not be a good idea to pivot to rescue heroics. Rescue heroics don’t have the same kind of ethical issues as combat heroics do.

But you can’t step out of combat heroics entirely. You’ve had a watch on a Shie Hassaikai safehouse in your city for a while, and you got a ping from the Nighteye agency summoning you to a strategy meeting about it sometime next week. In the meantime, you’re still getting into it with muggers, carjackers, and assorted creeps on a nightly basis. You’re busy. Tired when you wake up, tired when you get home. Most nights you’re too tired to cook.

Not tonight, though. Tonight you’re not allowed to fall asleep on the couch. You bought groceries on your day off last week in a fit of truly absurd optimism, and if you don’t use them tonight, they’ll go bad. You get home from patrol, shower off cold to wake yourself up, and get into the kitchen. Your rice cooker is waiting for you. You thank your lucky stars that you remembered to wash it out after your last kitchen escapade and get it started again.

You aren’t a good cook, but you aren’t a bad one, either. Maybe it’s more accurate to say that you’re not a pretty cook. Most meals you make are a bunch of different components piled up on a bowl or rice or noodles or dumped into a broth – not visually appealing, but still pretty tasty. Back when you were rooming with Yue and Kagura and Mayuko, Yue used to put a blindfold on so she wouldn’t see what the food you made looked like. Then again, she only ever ate seconds when it was your turn to cook.

That’s the other problem with your cooking – there are always seconds, and thirds, and sometimes fourths, because you always buy more than you can eat in one sitting, and you get bored with leftovers really fast. The scope of the problem begins to occur to you as you dice garlic and ginger and scrape them into a saucepan filled with sizzling cooking oil. You’ll eat this tonight, sure. Definitely tomorrow, but by the next day, you’ll be so sick of beef and assorted vegetables over rice that you’d almost rather run into the League of Villains a second time than have to eat it again. At least if you have to go into hiding from a vengeful public, no one will question why you didn’t eat your leftovers.

Once the aromatics start to brown and the smell infuses your apartment, the mass quantities of food you’re pawing through start to look a little less intimidating. You put on some music – quietly, since it’s past midnight and you’ve got neighbors, humming along to some English-language pop song from a decade and a half ago. The girl who babysat you back home always played it, the lyrics so simple that even four-year-old you could follow along. I really, really, really, really, really, really like you! And I want you – do you want me – do you want me too?

Between the sizzling of the flank steak and vegetables you’re currently sauteing, the sound of the music, and the rush of the wind whipping through the alley outside, you could almost write off the sound on the fire escape. It could be squirrels, or raccoons, or even a particularly chunky pigeon. It could just be the wind. But you reach for your metal-sense to check, just in case, and what you find sends a chill straight down your spine. You know that iron concentration. You couldn’t forget it if you tried.

This time, you react the right way. The fire escape is perfect for it. You bend the rails apart with a flick of your fingers, then wrap them tightly around the figure perched on the landing, pulling him down to seated. One around his waist, two immobilizing each arm, three spreading and pinning his fingers apart, so there’s no chance of all five making contact with anything at once. And one more railing around his throat, just to be extra safe.

You don’t step away from the stove until you know he’s secure. Your heart is racing as you turn off the music and make your way through your apartment to the window. You need four fingers on your right hand to manage the restraints, and you flip the latch on the window with your thumb and use your quirk to lever it open. This isn’t like last time. You’ve got the undisputed upper hand. So why do you feel so tense?

The tension comes through in your voice when you speak. “What are you doing here?”

Shigaraki Tomura looks up at you from where he’s ensnared by the railings you bent to your will. He’s not at ease like this. You can feel him straining to bring his fingers together, to break out of your grip, but he still manages the ghost of a cocky smirk. “Skynet,” he says. “Did you miss me?”

Shigaraki was expecting you to be surprised to see him, but he wasn’t expecting you to react quite this fast. Or to immobilize him this quickly. He squirms slightly, testing the restraints, only for two more to come up, wrapping around his thighs and welding him to the platform. You got him from inside your apartment, before he even realized you knew he was there. You’re good. Shigaraki hardens his resolve. If you’re this good, he absolutely needs you for the League.

“Did I miss you?” you repeat, incredulous. “Answer my question, Shigaraki. What are you doing here?”

Before Shigaraki can answer, you ask another question. “How do you know where I live?”

“I was in the neighborhood,” Shigaraki says. “I came to see if you bought yourself a flower like I said to.”

Your jaw drops. “That was you?”

“Who else?” Shigaraki can’t figure out why you looked so shocked. You’re in love with him. You should have guessed it was him, wanted it to be him. Is there somebody else you wanted it to be from? “Who did you think it was?”

“You can’t be here,” you say instead of answering. “You need to leave.”

“Do you want me to leave?” Shigaraki challenges. “You’re the one who won’t let me go.”

Your grip on him doesn’t loosen, and he still can’t bring his fingers together. Shigaraki’s stuck. If you call the cops to come get him, he can’t get away. Would you really call the cops on him? There’s no way. You love him. Right?

You still aren’t saying anything, but you also aren’t letting him go. Shigaraki tries to bring the subject back around to you liking him. “Did you buy a flower or not?”

“Why did you leave me that note?”

“I asked first.”

“Sure, I bought a flower.” You roll your eyes, which pisses Shigaraki off. He gave you something when he didn’t have to. What happened to gratitude? “Why did you leave me that note? Were you messing with me or something?”

“Messing with you?” Is that what you thought? Shigaraki wouldn’t be grateful, either. “I wasn’t messing with you. I saw the train thing, so I’m interested. I was just letting you know.”

He was expecting the news that he’s interested in you to land a little better. Then again, everything that’s happened today has proved that he’s a shitty judge of character, so maybe he’s wrong. He’s wrong, and the rest of the League was fucking with him, and because Shigaraki was stupid enough to believe them he’s now landed squarely in the hands of a hero who has every reason to think that turning him in will redeem her. He practically gift-wrapped himself.

Shigaraki’s throat tightens with rage, or something else. His skin crawls and his eyes burn. He can’t rub or scratch it away, because you’ve got him completely pinned. This is awful. It’s –

A timer goes off somewhere in your apartment, and you look away. Shigaraki seizes the opportunity to try to struggle free, but you’re already shaking your head. “Did you forget I’m the Capture Hero?” you ask. “If I can’t hang onto you and take a pan off the stove at the same time, I should hand in my license right now.”

You’re cooking something. The smell of it is drifting through the open window, and Shigaraki’s stupid mouth starts to water. He swallows. “You’re making dinner at midnight?”

You shrug. “That’s when I got home.”

“Kurogiri’s been cooking.” Trying to cook, and it’s weird that he’s trying. He used to leave Shigaraki alone about what he ate, but lately he’s been making Shigaraki eat things that have iron on them, or take iron pills, or dissolve iron tablets under his tongue. It’s a pain in the ass. “The stuff he makes doesn’t smell like that.”

You raise your eyebrows. “Like that?”

Maybe once you’re in the League, you can give Kurogiri lessons. Shigaraki had better start hinting about that now. “Good.”

You don’t say anything. Shigaraki’s stomach growls, so loudly that people on the moon can probably hear it, and his face heats up with embarrassment. But your expression is shifting, almost the same way it shifted in the square at Kamino. Seeing it gives Shigaraki a weird sense of relief. He wasn’t imagining it. The League wasn’t screwing with him. You do care. He can’t figure out why it took his stomach making stupid sounds to get it out of you.

“Are you hungry?” you ask.

Your voice sounds the same as it did when you asked if he was okay. This time Shigaraki tells the truth. “Yes.”

You glance back into your apartment, then look at him – then back to your apartment, then to him. “I must be out of my mind,” you mumble, and then you square your shoulders and make eye contact. “You’re hungry, and I made too much food. If you want, you can come inside.”

“What?” Shigaraki manages. You can’t be serious – but the metal railings are unwrapping from around his throat, his waist, his arms, until he’s anchored at the thighs and wrists and nowhere else. “You’re going to let me leave if I say no?”

“No one knows you’re here except me,” you say. “If you leave now, it’ll be like it never happened.”

Shigaraki should take you up on it, five seconds ago. You could change your mind at any moment, and now he knows he has to be a lot more careful the next time he tries to recruit you – keep a greater distance, stay disguised at first, not get complacent listening to you sing some song in English about how you really, really, really, really, really, really like someone. This was today’s second colossal fuckup, and unlike the first one, it’s recoverable. Shigaraki needs to leave. Now.

Instead – “I could eat,” he says, and you let him go.

Or you sort of let him go. He’s not attached to the fire escape anymore, but there are thin metal bands around his wrists and ankles. He shakes one of them at you. “What’s this?”

“Insurance policy,” you say. Huh. Shigaraki decides it’s fair, and probably a good sign as far as your usefulness to the League. After what happened today, it’s pretty clear that the League could use some members who are a little less trusting. You step back from the window, leaving space for Shigaraki to step through. “Get in here before someone sees you.”

Shigaraki smacks his head on the window frame, and it’s your fault. Your fault, because you’re holding out your hand for him to take, so you can help him through, and it’s such a weird thing to do that he can’t focus. You know how his quirk works. Why would you give him a chance to touch you? He avoids your outstretched hand, loses his balance, smacks his head on the other side of the window this time, and you catch his elbow to steady him. You’re touching him. Nobody touches Shigaraki on purpose. Nobody who’s not trying to hurt him.

You act like it’s nothing, and you let him go, shutting the window behind him with a wave of your hand. Then you turn away. “Find somewhere to sit. The food’s almost done.”

It smells even better inside your apartment than it did on the fire escape. Shigaraki wants to pay attention to that, but you just turned your back on him. “You sure you trust me this much?”

“I don’t need to look at you to know what you’re doing. My metal sense takes care of that.” You’re stirring something in a pan on the stove now. “I wouldn’t say I love my odds, but I’m okay with them. Do you want water to drink or something?”

“Uh, okay.” Shigaraki watches as you leave whatever’s on the stove to open a cabinet and retrieve a glass, which you fill from a pitcher in the fridge. You hand it to him and go back to the stove, and Shigaraki stares at it stupidly. Better that he stares at it than at you.

You aren’t doing what he expected you to do. Now that Shigaraki thinks about it, he’s got no idea what he was expecting you to do. Scream? Faint? Be ecstatic to see him? Drag him into your apartment and offer yourself to him – not just your allegiance to the League, but all of you, all for him? Shigaraki’s face heats up at the thought. You wouldn’t do that. You don’t even post thirst-traps on Instagram. There’s no way you’d get physical with him on your second meeting. Which is good. Because Shigaraki’s not exactly experienced in that department, and it’s possible that he’s never been less in the mood.

Shigaraki is used to having shitty days. He’s had a lot of shitty days in the last year. He’s gotten shot, stabbed, punched, punched but with explosions added in, and fucked things up so badly that Sensei had to get involved, only for Sensei get captured by the heroes. But today is abnormally, astronomically shitty – shitty enough to top all the others combined. This is the first shitty day in Shigaraki’s adult life where someone he cares about has died. And the first time it’s been his fault.

Maybe not totally his fault. There’s blame to go around. But Shigaraki’s the leader, so it’s on him. He should have been more suspicious of Overhaul from the start, regardless of what Twice said. He should have ended the meeting immediately when he realized Overhaul’s true intentions, and he should have had Kurogiri on standby, so the League could leave if Overhaul refused to. Failing all that, he should have found a way to stop Magne and Compress from engaging Overhaul – something he could have planned for, if he’d been smart enough to be suspicious. Instead he was stupid, and now Magne’s dead.

And Shigaraki couldn’t even take revenge on Overhaul. Assessing the scene, realizing they were outmatched, and calling a pause was probably the smartest thing Shigaraki did all day.

They couldn’t keep using that hideout. No one wanted to stay after what happened, and there was a chance Overhaul had tipped off the police to where they were. Shigaraki ordered the League to scatter for twenty-four hours and reunite at a new hideout, which Kurogiri is responsible for finding. Shigaraki doesn’t know where everyone else went. But he didn’t think twice before coming here, to your city. To your neighborhood. To you.

“Shigaraki.” You say his name as you’re setting two rice bowls in front of two chairs at a tiny kitchen table. “Do you want to sit down?”

Right. He’s standing here, staring at a glass of water, like an idiot. Shigaraki sits down in front of one bowl and you sit at the other. “What’s in here?”

“Flank steak, spinach, broccoli, mushrooms, carrots, garlic, ginger, green onions –” You trail off to eat some of it. “And rice underneath. I’m guessing Kurogiri forgot some of that stuff.”

“The last three things.” Shigaraki picks up his chopsticks, lifts out a piece of broccoli, and inspects it. It doesn’t look quite as disgusting as whatever Kurogiri made. He sticks it in his mouth, burns his tongue, realizes that it doesn’t actually taste bad, and starts talking in a hurry. “You can’t tell anyone about this. If they find out –”

“That you ate a vegetable?” You look skeptical. Maybe because Shigaraki’s talking with his mouth full. “There are lots of reasons I can’t tell anybody about this. I might as well add that to the list.”

Shigaraki makes sure to finish chewing before he tries to say anything else, then decides against saying anything at all in favor of trying to figure out which of the vegetables tastes the worst. You don’t ask him any questions. You’re just eating dinner, like it’s a normal night, like it doesn’t matter that Shigaraki’s here at all.

Maybe you’re playing it cool. “So,” Shigaraki starts, after a sip of water to wash the taste of carrots out of his mouth, “you must not think much of the League of Villains, if you used more of your quirk on a train than on us.”

You used more of your quirk pinning Shigaraki to the fire escape than you did during the second Kamino incident, but Shigaraki decides not to point that out. You’re making a face. “They were totally different situations. If I’d used that kind of power in our fight, I’d have taken down all the buildings your boss and All Might didn’t get to during the first battle.”

“So what? Capturing us wasn’t worth it?” Shigaraki can tell by your expression that this is the wrong way to go. He stuffs a wad of spinach into his mouth to give himself some time to think, then drinks some water to give a little more. “You said it was different with the train. Why?”

“It was on an elevated track.”

“Huh?”

“The train was on an elevated track.” You’re picking at your food. “The problem with my quirk isn’t whether I can grab something and pull it towards me, the problem is what happens to everything in between. If the train had been street level or underground, the magnetic field I was altering would have torn up everything with a similar metallic signature to the train. But the train was on an elevated track. There was nothing around it with a matching signature, so I could let loose.”

It sounds like there’s not a limit to your quirk. You held back at Kamino because you didn’t want to make a mess. “How hard was it to stop the train?”

“Harder once I fell over.”

You’re avoiding Shigaraki’s eyes, and Shigaraki adjusts your answer to reflect reality. “It wasn’t hard at all,” he says. You keep averting your eyes. There’s color coming up in your face. “Damn.”

You eat a few more bites, and so does Shigaraki. The food is good, or at least good enough to highlight how bad Kurogiri’s cooking is. If Shigaraki wasn’t already sure he needed you for the League, he’d be convinced now – between your quirk and the fact that you can make the vegetables he’s supposed to eat taste like anything other than garbage, he’s pretty sure you’ll be essential. “Is that why you came here?” you ask, and Shigaraki looks up. “To talk about my quirk?”

“What else is there to talk about?” What do people talk about on dinner dates, anyway? “How our days were? Like I’d tell you that.”

“You could,” you say. “There’s nobody I could tell about it.”

“Bullshit. You’re a hero –”

“And if I went to the cops and spilled all your secrets, their next question would be where I got the information,” you say. “I can’t exactly say ‘I got it from Shigaraki Tomura, when he came over for dinner last night.’ So if you want to talk about how your day went, you can.”

Shigaraki’s chest goes tight. Maybe he swallowed something wrong. “You first,” he says. “What did you do today? Let me guess – dispensing peace and justice with government-sponsored violence.”

You laugh. “Today I fixed some girl’s bike so she could get to work on time. Then I got called out to a primary school to help some kid who got his head stuck in the rails on a staircase. After that I caught some guy spray-painting ‘bitch’ on his ex-wife’s car. That would have been a nuisance crime, except he’d been stalking her, too.”

Shigaraki knew you were small-time, but this is ridiculous. “Don’t you get bored?”

“There was a car accident, too,” you say. “The fire department was late, so I helped pry open the car so the passengers could get out. And then I helped clear wreckage from somebody else’s villain fight downtown until my shift ended.”

Five incidents, one actual interaction with a criminal. “That’s not going to get you back in the headlines.”

“Believe me, I’d love to stay out of them,” you say. Shigaraki remembers what Spinner said about how you’re a hero Stain would approve of. It sounds like he’s right. “Today was a decent day. How was yours?”

Shigaraki’s throat closes. He’s still hungry – really hungry – but if he tried to swallow something right now, he’s pretty sure he’d choke on it. The anger builds inside him, seeking any target, and you’re the closest. “Don’t ask me that. You don’t give a shit about me.”

“Hey –”

“You call someone a villain and you can write them off for good. It doesn’t matter what happens to villains. Villains aren’t people to you.” Shigaraki can’t believe you’re trying to argue with him. “Sure, I could tell you how my day was. If I wanted to watch you pretend to care that one of my friends died.”

Your eyes widen. “Someone died?”

Shigaraki wasn’t going to tell you anything, and then he told you, right in the middle of telling you all the reasons why he wasn’t going to tell you. This is a fucking nightmare. “Save it for someone who believes your stupid act. I’m out of here.”

“My stupid act, huh?” Your voice is sharp. “Let me tell you something about what happened at Kamino, Shigaraki. I should have captured you then. I had everything I needed to take you down. And then I got so distracted when I realized you were sick that I let all four of you escape. I screwed myself pretty solidly for somebody who doesn’t care, don’t you think?”

You did, sort of. Shigaraki knows that if you hadn’t stopped the train, the public would still hate you. A society as corrupt as this one doesn’t forgive mistakes like the one you made. Like the one you’re making right now, if anybody ever finds out you let him in. “You’re still sick,” you continue. “I can feel it. And it doesn’t take a genius to see that something bad happened. I don’t know what’s going on in your head, but I don’t think you came here just to see if I bought a flower.”

You don’t say why you think Shigaraki came here. With Shigaraki’s luck, you’d guess right, and the sheer humiliation of being called out on it would probably kill him. “You said you bought one. Where is it?”

“Right there.”

Right there, as in dead center on the table, right in the middle of Shigaraki’s eyeline. And here he was thinking it couldn’t get worse. “I think you probably meant a cut flower, but I wanted this one,” you say. “It’s alive, so it should keep blooming as long as I don’t kill it through benign neglect.”

Shigaraki’s throat won’t relax. He coughs, trying to clear it. “Kill a lot of plants, do you?”

“Only by accident,” you say. “It probably doesn’t make a difference to the plant, but under human law, intention matters.”

“What?”

“Crime is bad,” you say. No shit. Shigaraki snorts. “But the degree of badness depends on the intention. If I lost control of my quirk and hurt someone, I’d be in trouble. But I’d be in a lot more trouble if I hurt them deliberately.”

Shigaraki’s stomach ties itself in a knot. “For serious crimes, the reason why a person did something matters, too,” you continue. “If I was a civilian and someone attacked me, I might hurt them with my quirk to protect myself. But if I hurt that person the same way in an argument, that would be different. And sometimes premeditation can be a mitigating factor – like, a person being stalked and threatened might feel so backed into a corner that killing the stalker feels like the only option. They’d have to plan that ahead of time, probably. But it’s not something they’d have done if they hadn’t been pushed to the limit first.”

The knot in Shigaraki’s stomach is pulling his entire body with it – intestines, heart, lungs. He stands up so fast he knocks his chair over. “Bathroom.”

“Down the hall. Door on the right,” you say. “Are you –”

Shigaraki’s in the bathroom with the door locked before you can finish asking the question. He hunches over the sink, struggling to breathe without gagging. Why did you tell him that? All that stuff about intention and premeditation and the reasons mattering – why would you think he needed to hear it? Shigaraki’s pretty sure you don’t monologue about the legal system to your hero friends, but you weren’t trying to convince him that the system’s good, or right. You were just telling him. Almost like you know.

Like you know what? That question gives Shigaraki pause, and in the pause, he forces himself to straighten up and take a look around. Your bathroom is small, like everything else in y our apartment. There’s not a lot of stuff lying around on the counter. Or a lot of stuff under the sink, when he looks down there. The cabinet behind the mirror has more in it, but Shigaraki’s not sure what to make of what he’s looking at. Girl stuff, probably. Does sunscreen count as girl stuff? There’s makeup, or what Shigaraki thinks is makeup, but not much of it has been used. Most of it is still in its packaging. There’s also a pile of narrow elastic bands – black, made of fabric, not rubber. Hair ties. Shigaraki picks one up and slides it down over his wrist.

He’s not sure why he did that, but he feels a little better, and he takes a few more deep breaths. You weren’t trying to do something to him. You were just talking, because people talk when they go out to dinner together. There’s nothing weird happening. You don’t know anything. You’re in love with him. It’s fine.

Shigaraki leaves the bathroom and makes his way down the hall, stopping in a few places to look at the pictures you have hanging up. There’s one where you’re hugging a big golden dog, looking stupid-happy and a lot younger than you are now. Another one from when you were a student at UA, in a school uniform, standing with three other girls. And then there’s one that makes Shigaraki feel sick and angry all over again – you and some guy. He’s got his arm around your shoulders.

“That’s my brother.”

Shigaraki jumps, swears. You snuck up on him. “He doesn’t live in Japan,” you continue. “So if you were planning to use him to get back at me, find something else.”

“I’ll get back at you when you do something to me,” Shigaraki says. “Not before.”

You study him, head tilted to one side. “Are you okay?” you ask. “You looked like you were going to be sick.”

“I want to finish the food,” Shigaraki says. He has a bad feeling about his ability to lie to you right now. Lying is a bad policy with somebody he’s trying to recruit. The fucking recruitment thing. How did he forget about that? “Did you get rid of it?”

“No,” you say, puzzled. “It’s probably gotten cold, though. I’ll heat it up again.”

Shigaraki leans against the kitchen counter while you mess with the microwave, and decides to test your supposed metal sense while he’s waiting. He reaches out, like he’s going to grab your shoulder, and his arm stalls in midair, held back by the metal shackle around his wrist. Pulling back doesn’t make a difference, and it fits too closely to pull his hand free. Shigaraki tries to bring up his other hand and Decay the shackle, but that hand freezes in place, too. You didn’t even turn around. “Can I help you?”

“Just testing you,” Shigaraki says. “You really are good. Want to let me go?”

You shrug. “You might not believe me, but I’m sorry about your friend,” you say. “Whichever of your friends it was. I wish it hadn’t happened. To them or to you.”

Shigaraki doesn’t sleep much. He’s pretty sure what happened to Magne and Compress will be making an appearance in his nightmares. It’ll fit in nicely with the nightmares he already has, which also include a lot of blood and dismembered bodies. “Heroes like it when villains kill villains, right? Like taking out the trash.”

“You must spend a lot of time arguing with the imaginary hero in your head.” The microwave beeps, and you lift the bowls out without touching them. “You’re talking to me. Listen to what I’m saying.”

“What are you saying, then?”

“I’m saying I’m sorry about your friend.” You turn to face Shigaraki, arms crossed over your chest, while the bowls drift back to the table and settle on opposite sides. “I wish it hadn’t happened. Is there anything I can do?”

“Let me out.” Shigaraki pulls at the shackles again, and you release your hold on them. “And if you get a chance, put Overhaul in the fucking ground.”

“Overhaul,” you repeat. “Like, Hassaikai Overhaul? He did it?”

“Yeah. Why?”

“You need to stay away from him,” you say flatly. “From all of them. It’s not safe.”

“I know it’s not fucking safe. They just killed my friend. Do you think I’m going to –” Shigaraki breaks off as a thought crosses his mind. “What do you mean, it’s not safe?”

“It’s not safe,” you say again. You step around Shigaraki, and he follows you to the table. “I can’t tell you why. But it’s not a good idea to be anywhere near Overhaul or his organization right now.”

“Why?”

“I can’t tell you,” you say. You pick up your chopsticks. “Are you going to eat?”

The food smells good heated up again. Shigaraki takes a few bites and thinks over what you said. You know something about the Shie Hassaikai, and whatever it is, it’s enough to make you warn Shigaraki away from them. You love him, so some of it is probably that you don’t want him going back near somebody who killed his friend. But it sounds like more than that. You can’t tell him why. What’s something a hero can’t tell a villain?

What the other heroes are up to. Shigaraki feels a grin spreading across his face. “The heroes are going after the Hassaikai.” Across the table, you cringe. “I’m right, aren’t I?”

“No!”

You’re not a good liar, at least not to Shigaraki. Good to know. Shigaraki eats fast, his mind working faster. Overhaul thinks he’s smarter than everyone else, heroes and villains both. Which will be more humiliating – getting his shit rocked by another villain, or being crushed by a gang of heroes? It’s the last one for sure. Shigaraki doesn’t have to do the heavy lifting of destroying Overhaul. All he has to do is pretend to help, stay out of the way, and yank the illusion of his support when Overhaul needs it most. To betray Overhaul’s trust. Just like Overhaul did to him.

Easy enough. And Shigaraki wouldn’t have known about it if you hadn’t told him.

Shigaraki has a hard time believing that he ever felt weird about you being in love with him. You didn’t hand him over to the cops. You let him in. You made food for him and tried to make him feel better and actually succeeded, at least a little, when you gave him a clue about how to crush Overhaul. As far as Shigaraki can see, there’s not a single downside to having a hero as a girlfriend.

[mj-iza-writer]

Whumptober Day 19

Blood Trail - Abandoned Cabin - One way Out - "Is there anybody alive out there?" (Bruce Springsteen, Radio Nowhere)

Alternative: Shivering

Whumper could smell breakfast cooking as they made their way into the kitchen.

Whumpee huddled close to the gas stove as they flipped the eggs.

Whumper studied them for a few seconds before Whumpee looked at them.

"Please tell me you're not sick", Whumper sighed, knowing they had just gotten over a cold last week.

"I don't think so... just really cold", Whumper held their hand close to the flame, "I hope you're okay with a hot breakfast."

"Sounds good to me", Whumper nodded.

Whumper was handed a cup of coffee.

"Let me feel your hands again", Whumper frowned when they felt Whumpee's knuckle brush against them.

"You're ice cold", Whumper squeezed Whumpee's hand.

Whumpee shivered a little, "yes Master, I know."

"Go ahead and get some warmer clothes on" Whumper looked over them, "no wonder your cold, walking around in a short sleeve shirt and shorts. You're not even wearing socks."

Whumpee nodded. They didn't want to tell Whumper that they had already checked earlier. They didn't have anything.

After breakfast was served, Whumpee went up to the closet that Whumper set aside for them to stay in. The house was a one bedroom, so that was the best Whumper could do.

"It's a walk-in, so you should have plenty of space, and a mattress fits in here", Whumper sighed when they explained the situation to their newly kidnapped slave, "I figure you would like a little privacy."

Whumpee thought back to those early days. They didn't fight to get away from their kidnapper. They were a little too scared to be defiant. Whumper was fairly kind to them. The rules were easy to follow, and punishments were possible but rarely came.

"Taking a long time to find warmer clothing", Whumper leaned into the closet and saw Whumpee pulling things out of the tote their clothes were stored in.

"I uhm, don't have any.... warmer... clothes", Whumpee looked up at them nervously.

Whumper frowned, "you don't?"

"No Master, I think they were thrown away.", Whumpee looked longingly at their blanket, "I have a hoodie", Whumpee held up the item.

"That will not keep you warm though", Whumper looked at it and saw the holes, "I think I remember throwing away some things this past summer because of how old they were. I guess you are getting some new clothes."

"Wait really?", Whumpee looked at them questioningly.

Whumper nodded, "after breakfast we'll go through and see what else you need. Do you at least have socks?"

"I do, but a lot of them have holes", Whumpee lifted their feet to show.

"I have a feeling this will be an expensive trip", Whumper frowned at the holes on the bottom of Whumpee's feet, "I guess that's what I get for keeping you here. You deserve some new clothes though."

"Thankyou Master", Whumpee smiled weakly.

Whumpee followed Whumper around the clothing section.

Whumper read through their list.

"You needed everything.... even underwear", Whumper frowned, "I can't believe I've been so neglectful of you while you've done so good to take care of me."

Whumpee felt a little overwhelmed at the selections. They held on tightly to the cart.

"We will, of course, get the essentials. If you see something you like, we can get a few pieces you pick", Whumper continued without noticing Whumpee.

Whumpee took a deep breath before nodding.

"You doing alright?", Whumper noticed the silence finally.

"There is a lot here. Lots of colors and people", Whumpee whispered.

"I'm sorry, you haven't been out for a while. It's probably a bit overwhelming", Whumper led them to a corner, "let's start here. You can get acclimated in a smaller space. When you feel comfortable we can move on."

Whumpee nodded again.

A few things were now in the cart... all picked by Whumper.

"Are you going to pick anything out", Whumper eyed Whumpee as they went to another part of the clothing department.

"I picked out the pants" Whumpee whispered.

"You picked the color. I already knew you wanted the black pair, but I was trying to get you to answer", Whumper looked at a sweater for themself.

"I'm sorry, I forgot how busy stores were", Whumpee fidgetted with their fingers.

Whumper nodded, "I guess you need to get out more."

Whumper led Whumpee to a section of the store for groceries. They wanted to give Whumpee a little break from the clothes.

Whumpee stumbled a little beside the cart when they stared at something for too long.

"Careful Whumpee", Whumper grinned at some passer bys.

"Sorry", Whumpee sighed.

Whumpee glanced back a few times before they rounded a corner.

Whumpee was a little more helpful in the groceries. Dinners were planned so Whumpee could grab the ingredients needed.

Whumper led them back to the clothes after a few snacks were grabbed.

They walked past the spot Whumpee had been staring at earlier.

Whumper saw it this time. Whumpee had a small grin on their face.

"You see something you like", Whumper chuckled, "finally."

"No Master", Whumpee shook their head nervously.

Whumper looked around, "Shh, don't call me that here", they whispered. "I know that face. You made the same one when I said you could get your chips. What did you see?"

Whumpee blushed.

"Come on, show me", Whumper pressed.

Whumpee turned and awkwardly shuffled back to what they were looking at.

Whumper followed curiously.

Whumpee looked down and pointed at a rack full of slippers.

"Oh, you want some slippers. That's fine. Which ones?", Whumper smiled.

"Uhm, these ones... mas... uh", Whumpee looked at them nervously.

Whumper took a closer look at what Whumpee was embarrassed about. A giant smirk now on their face.

"Oh, I see", Whumper chuckled.

Whumpee had chosen slippers that looked like bear paws. Complete with leathery claws.

"Yes, those will be cute. This is the only thing you've actually picked out today for clothes, so that tells me that you really like them", Whumper took one from the hook, "you can get them."

"Really?", Whumpee looked at them questioningly.

"Yes", Whumper nodded, "let's find your size."

Whumper laughed when they glanced over at Whumpee as they drove home.

Whumpee sat in the passenger seat and cuddled the bag that held the slippers.

Whumpee looked at Whumper nervously.

"You're okay, just being adorable", Whumper grinned.

"Thankyou for the slippers master... I'm really excited to wear them", Whumpee smiled.

Whumper nodded, "we're almost home, so you won't have to wait much longer."

Whumper had a few tasks to do before dinner, so Whumpee went through the clothes on their own and was in the middle of washing the laundry.

Whumper peaked into the laundry room and watched Whumpee as they clicked their slippers together excitedly.

They turned and nervously backed away when they saw Whumper.

"Sorry Master, just doing my chores. I got a little sidetracked", Whumpee whispered, "I really like these."

"I'm glad you are enjoying them. You are washing everything now?", Whumper looked past Whumpee at a pile.

"Yes Master, I decided to do all of the laundry so it would get done", Whumpee sighed, "you shouldn't have bought all of these things for me though. I didn't deserve it all. Even... even these slippers master. I shouldn't have shown a want like that."

"Whumpee", Whumper straightened, "you do a lot around here. You put up with a lot around here too. Since when have I said anything against you having wants and desires", Whumper stepped closer to Whumpee, "you wanted the slippers right? They make you happy?"

"Y-yes master", Whumpee nodded.

"Are they keeping you warm? This morning I found huddled against the stove to get warm. You did indeed need these warmer clothes. You might be my slave, but I do want to take care of you."

Whumpee quickly wiped away a tear, "thankyou master."

"You're welcome", Whumper grinned, "alright I'm in my bedroom if you need me", Whumper started to leave, "I want to see you wearing your new clothes once they're washed as well."

"Yes master", Whumpee smiled and looked down at their slippers again.

They giggled as they wiggled their toes, causing the slippers to wiggle.

"So comfy", Whumpee whispered.

P.s. I do actually have a pair of these slippers. Best things I've bought.

Taglist. As always please let me know if you want to be added or taken off of the list. It's not a problem at all.

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[peterparkersnose]

I Need You More Than I Wanted To

pairing: Din Djarin x reader

word count: 3k

warnings: needy din, lowkey out of character but idc, pining possibly one sided, lots of begging, angst, description of y/n’s body, masturbation reference if you squint HARD, sappy speeches at the end, arguing, lots of angst (bc angst is my favorite)

a/n i’ve had this idea in my drafts for MONTHS so i’m so happy i’ve gotten around to writing it.

summary Y/N overhears a damaging conversation between Din and Greef Karga

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join the tag list

read time: 11 mins 8 seconds

Din’s heart ached like no other watching you these past few days. The silent suffering, the longing, and the pain he has been observing was hard to watch; the hardest part was that he was the reason for this.

He knew you like the back of his hand. For years the two of you have been traveling the galaxy, searching for as many credits as possible and managing to have a fun time while doing it. Living life with you is how Din preferred it. It was carefree. The two of you made a great team and wanted to live lavishly one day. That was the dream, at least. The two of you saved credits like crazy, but it never seemed to be enough to purchase a palace. Once the kid came along everything changed. The sudden dream of living large seemed to fade over the horizon. Something clicked. The two of you were now parents.

When Greef mentioned to him about you when the two of you visited the new Nevarro, Din was sure he was just messing with him.

“Are you two finally together?”

The question confused Din.

“You know, the way she looks at you. That’s love.”

Din was shocked. Had he really been that clueless?

“That’s impossible,” Din responded. Greef laughed. “You're telling me that if she made the first move, you wouldn’t reciprocate it?”

A strict “No” came from Din. “Never.”

The child cooed and the two men turned around. There you stood in the doorway, waiting for them to finish their conversation. The exact conversation you had just overheard.

Your mouth slightly dropped. The expression on your face was shocked. You quickly blinked and closed your mouth, trying to mask your disappointment. But Din knew. Maybe it was enough to fool Greef Karga, but Din knew he had just hurt the person he cared for the most deeply.

“H-he wanted you,” you said silently, not expecting your voice to quiver. You set down Grogu on the red velvet couch. Din nodded. Your lip quivered as you stared at him through the visor in pure shock. With hurt in your eyes, you excused yourself to the shared quarters the two of you were given for the time of your stay.

“And that…” Greef began. Din scooped up Grogu in his arms. Grogu made a noise and grunted, seemingly wanting to now leave his father and attend to his heartbroken mother. He squirmed in Din’s arms until he let him down.

“That was the look of heartbreak.”

The next few days on Nevarro were filled with a cold distance. Neither you nor Din wanted to discuss the elephant in the room. Simple words were exchanged in the interest of the child, but that was about it.

It was your last night on Nevarro.

Din had been at the cantina with Greef Karga and some of his associates, celebrating the newly liberated Nevarro. You had gone to bed early, staying with Grogu.

You were surprised Din even agreed to go out, he hated outings such as drinking with friends. If things weren’t so heated at the moment, he would have much rather preferred a night staying in with you and watching some stupid show on your datapad and eating whatever your heart desired.

The sun had been set for hours. You were lounging in your satin red sleep robe that was complimentary given to you upon your arrival. The beautiful braid you had your hair up in all day was now gone, your hair was curled due to the all-day friction. The ladies assigned to your care were more than delightful. With the satin robes and braids you could never master, it was like you never wanted to leave. You lay on the king-sized bed you had been giving to Din the last few nights. The couch was beginning to hurt your back, and he was nowhere to be found. 

Grogu, still not asleep, was patting the lavish sheets with his hands. You smiled, watching the curious creature discover the new textures. Your eyes wandered to the marvelous carvings coated in gold paint that covered the pillars in your room. Eyes beginning to droop, you were suddenly awoken by a cold hand on your exposed thigh. 

“Buir!” he squealed. Recognizing the Mando’a right away, your thinned-lip smile turned into a frown. “I know,” you sighed, extending your hand towards the child and brushing the top of his head. “He’ll be back soon.”

Grogu crawled up your legs and onto your torso. Grogu began grabbing some of the strands of hair that lay on your chest, you slowly separated his hands from the grasp. “Good job on speaking, buddy.” you smiled, now sitting against the bedframe. Grogu sat in your lap, reaching for your hair once again. A genuine smile arose on your face as you watched your son rest in your lap. The thought of Din left your mind, but only temporarily. He seemed to haunt your dreams as he haunted your days. You fell asleep with Grogu in your lap. 

Din’s clanky armor trudged up the many stairs to the guest bedroom. It was almost like a full workout, he was ready to get into the shower and then get into bed. 

Din absolutely hated his time out; barely being able to sip his drink and listening to the arguing of men about topics he didn't even care about was not his idea of a good night. He didn't want to admit it though—he yearned to spend the night with you. You consumed his every thought, and with every sip of his strong alcohol, he just kept feeling worse and worse. The image of your face re played in his head all week. With the disappointment and hurt he never wanted to inflict on you, the guilt was building up in his stomach like no other. 

Slowly, his ungloved hand waved against the sensor. The door whirred open. Din hoped he didn’t wake you, it was already almost morning, even though the sunrise was hours away. He could hear the morning bugs begin to chirp on his way home. As his eyes adjusted to the lighting, he set his helmet down on the chair in the corner. He turned around to find you- his heart seemed to skip a beat. 

Laying in the silk robe you were gifted, your legs were parted awkwardly as you slept. You lay on your stomach with your face delved in a pillow. The slow movement of your back going up and down gave Din the confidence that you were okay. One arm lay at your side, the other cradled Grogu against your waist. His breath finally caught up with him once he realized he had been staring for too long. 

The only thing he could seem to think about in his shower was his best friend. The woman who had always been there for him. She was merely a partner until Greef suggested otherwise. The thought of even diving into anything romantic with you never crossed Din’s mind until then. His hand held his seemingly limp body on the wall, holding him upwards as the water washed over him. The thought of you sprawled out on the bed, on his bed was just… 

The thought went straight to his head, making him feel emotions for you he never had before. Your body, the way you lay, how you were protecting his son even in slumber. Everything about you seemed so appealing in a way Din had never felt for another woman. 

“You know, the way she looks at you. That’s love.”

Greef’s voice haunted Din’s mind as he slept. He woke up gasping for air on the couch. You turned to look at him but only for a moment. You made eye contact. It was rare you saw him without his helmet, and even rarer to make complete eye contact. Din wasn’t one for eye contact. Looking down, you continued to fold Grogu’s extra robes that were freshly cleaned and delivered to your room earlier this morning. You were packing to leave. 

Din sat upright, his hand holding his forehead. His head was pounding. Looking up, he noticed a glass of water and a few pills sitting on the table in front of him. Presumably set up for him, by you. His heart sank. Even in pain, you somehow still cared for him. He turned to look at you again. You were still getting Grogu ready to leave. He was jumping on the bed, making gargling noises as you tried to dress him. Din took the pills and finished the water and set the glass down with a clank, so you knew he had seen your gesture. 

“What time are we leaving?” he asked, standing up to finish his packing. He caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror; his hair was disheveled and he was in need of a shave. He ran a hand over the patchy stubble on his cheeks. To his surprise, his bag was sitting packed on the same chair where he rested his helmet last night. His helmet was sitting on top of the bag. 

You sighed. “Din,” you croaked, saying his name for the first time in days. He looked over at you. The same pain was there, but the look of exhaustion followed it. “I-I’m not going.” 

His brows raised. A slight panic set in. “What do you mean, your not going?” he asked in a more hostile tone than needed. You drew in a sharp breath and looked back at the same gold detailing you were looking at the night before. “Grogu is packed,” you simply said, scooping the child up in your arms. He squealed at your embrace, cuddling up in your arms. It was the last time you were going to be with Grogu, at least for a while. “Greef invited us to breakfast,” you said, swiftly walking past Din to the door. Your attempt to leave was unsuccessful.

Din grabbed your arm and pulled you back. Grogu let out a whine, as he was shuffled in the hassle. No words had to be said, the stares you were giving each other were enough. Din tilted his head slightly. The feeling of you was slipping through his fingers. Memories of you two fighting bounties, saving credits for a future, and then raising Grogu together hurt him more than ever. You were already too far gone. He had done damage that seemed irreversible.

A single tear rolled down your face. 

It was never meant to go this far. 

“Let me go,” you begged. Din didn’t realize his grasp on you was getting tighter as the seconds went by. “I don’t want to,” he whispered, closer to a mumble.

With reluctance, he let go of your arm. 

“What about the villa?” he called after you as you were about to exit the room. You stopped cold in your tracts. “Don’t bring up the villa-” you scolded him, turning around. The once-thought dream of living lavishly with Din, as a retired pair on a fancy planet scorned your broken heart. “You're really just going to leave? After everything?” he asked.

“You were my everything.” you bitterly cried out. Grogu squirmed in your arms. You sat him down on the bed.

Those words punched through Din like a thousand knives. “I didn’t mean-”

“Then what did you mean?” you ask, approaching Din. “I heard your conversation loud and clear, Din. I understand your intentions.”

“Y/N I had no clue,” he tried to defend himself. “Liar!” you screamed. Din was taken aback by your anger and took a few steps back. “I have spent the last many years of my life following you around blindly. We lived together, slept in the same bed, shared meals, shared laughs, and now share a child! I held you during cold nights! I saw your face, we’ve seen each other nude more times than I can count, you cared for me when I got hurt on that one mission to Tatooine. You cared for me while my leg was broken and I was helpless. We were everything without a title, Din! There is no way you never saw or felt anything. I simply don’t believe it. I can’t believe I thought I could see the true heart of a cold, selfish Mandalorian.”

Din was almost at a loss for words. He stood for a moment, finding words to say as he watched you realize every single word you had just spewed out at him. Your hand began to shake as you sat down, covering your mouth and staring at the carpet with wide eyes.

“Do you think I chose this? This is how I was raised, Y/N!” he argues. Your gaze moved from the carpet and back to Din. “I cannot take a spouse unless they are a Mandalorian, you know this,” Din begged, grasping for straws. He wanted you more badly than anything else in the world, but the creed that was so deeply indoctrinated in him was fighting the feelings.

“Blinded by your creed.” you spat out. Din seethed. The creed he was in the process of abandoning anyways. 

“Why do you think I’m leaving it?” he blurted out. He didn’t want to admit it, but he said it out loud. Never had he ever admitted before to himself, let alone another person that he was done with his origins. The religion he was raised in, the culture that had brought him in and saved his life was now being thrown out… but for what? The convincing Bo-Katan did and saving him from this cult-like creed saved his life, truly deep down. Even if the efforts were small, they awoke something in Din. But was he really ready to shun his culture completely? Din never really came to terms with it, I guess, until now. 

“You have hurt me deeply, Din Djarin,” you said with your lip quivering, stating your final words. With that, you took Grogu and went to breakfast. You knew using his full, true name always hit him in a spot where it hurt most.

As you were about to walk down the spiral staircase at the end of the hallway, you heard your name being called clearly from the other side of the hall. You turned around, seeing Din jogging down the hall to you.

“Din! Your helmet,” you cried out. He had left the room without it. As he only trusted you and Grogu to see his natural face, anyone who he didn’t trust could turn him into the leaders of his clan. It touched him that you seemed to care for him on some level to still care about his helmet insecurities.

Then again, the reigns the creed held on him were loosening day by day.

“Wait,” he said, huffing as he approached you. “Please.”

“I want to go eat breakfast,” you said sternly.

Din’s arms loosely fell over your figure, his hands slowly touching your arms as they cradled Grogu.

“Don’t go,” he begged.

You looked up into his glossy eyes. Often you would forget how much taller he was than you. Sighing, you looked away.

“Give me one reason why I shouldn’t.”

Din’s knees seemed to collapse under him. He gave in to the buckling of his kneecaps and grabbed both of your hands, begging on his knees for you.

“To live all these years blindly, to not see what was truly in front of me will haunt me for the rest of my days. I am lost without you. Like a galaxy without stars, I am incomplete. I hope you can forgive me for my foolish words, I did not know what I was saying. You are everything to me. The mother of my child, my partner in crime, my light in the dark, my moon to guide me at night, my motivation, my companion, my love. Please forgive me. I need you to stay. You are all I have, you are all I need. A life without you is not worth living.”

To end his plea, he kissed your hands and wept.

Your right hand moved from his grasp to cup his cheek. It was wet with tears. “Don’t cry,” you whispered, wiping a tear away. “Din please,” you said, tearing up as you watched him sit and beg for you.

As his were moments before, your knees seemed to fail you and you joined him on the ground. Your hands grasped his hair as you engulfed the sobbing man in a hug. The soothing sounds of you shushing him like a baby filled the empty hallway.

“I won’t leave, I promise,” you whispered. This seemed to only make him cry harder. The realization Din had of how lucky he was and how close he was to losing you terrified him.

You would have never thought that you would be holding a sobbing Mandalorian. This was living proof of how much he loved and adored you. “H-how could you ever forgive me?” he asked, looking up into your gaze.

“I already have, my love.”

And with that, the two of you delved into your first kiss. It was wet and filled with passion, but also had a theme of hesitation from the two of you.

In all honesty, it was Din’s first kiss ever.

He moved his lips against yours, following your lead. The passion that moved between the two of you was something you had never felt with anyone else before. His hands wandered to your waist as he feverishly begged for more, but knew the limits of the setting the two of you were in.

Moments before the inevitable breakaway, your kiss was interrupted with a cool paw on your leg and a “Patu”

You rocked back on your legs to see the tiny green baby looking angrily at the two of you. A small laugh came from you and Din as he picked Grogu up and fixed his robes.

“Go get fixed up,” you said sweetly, kissing Din on the cheek. “I’ll meet you downstairs.”

“One question?” he asked, just as you were standing up to leave.

“What time are we leaving?”

“12.” you smiled, ruffling his already messy hair.

-

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[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Winter's King 18

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, cheating, violence, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You are a maid to the Duke of Debray, a lord of the Summer Kingdom. That is, until the king of Winter appears with his particular air of coldness. (Medieval AU)

Characters: Geralt of Rivia

Note: It's Friday.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

Another day brings you just short of the mountain peak. The pace of the train is ragged as they come to a halt and murmurs crawl up and down the lines. You slump against the frigid wind, nestling your chin into the fur of your cloak as you keep your eyes on Daisy’s neck. You yawn as Bryce reaches over to fix the reins as they almost slip from your grasp. 

“You well, mouse?” He growls. 

You nod. You haven’t spoken much in the last days, not since your first night on the mountain pass. You haven’t known what to say. You know he must have seen the king and yourself, how close you were, and you feel his judgment. You just don’t know how to say it isn’t your want. It would be improper to blame the king. 

“We’re almost there. Castle’s just ahead.” He looks up at the dark shapes soaring through the skies. He pointed out the vultures a while back, inferring there must be carrion near to bring them out. “You’ll have a warm place to lay your head.” 

You hum and offer nothing else. As you think of staying still, your stomach storms as violently as the skies. At least when you have a destination, when you are moving, you can make yourself elusive. Once you’re still, you don’t quite know what you’ll do. 

“Daisy will be relieved to rest, the old beast,” he chuckles, “she’s had quite the campaign.” 

You pet the horse’s mane, your hands mittened in strips of wool the grey soldier wrapped around them. 

“I know what the matter is but if you’re not gonna say it, I won’t neither,” he grumbles. 

You dip your head, hiding under the hood. You come to a halt behind the rest of the party as it stalls completely. You lean and peer over the edge of the horse. 

“Aye, you just wait,” he swings off his horse and lands easily on his feet. The snow dusts up around his tall boots. He comes to help you off the horse, your legs as snugly bound in wool. “We’ll find ya some proper clothes for the road at the castle. You’ll need all your toes.” 

You sigh and cross your arms. You look ahead then behind you. You cough and turn to touch Daisy’s soft neck. 

“I didn’t...” you begin. “I wouldn’t betray the queen. Or the king.” 

He huffs and moves closer, blocking the wind as Daisy nuzzles his shoulder, “I know ya wouldn’t, mouse. Is that why yer so meek? You think I judge you?” 

“What happened--” you voice piques and you nearly choke on it, “sir,” you throw your hands up, “I swear, I didn’t ask for it. The king...” 

“Kings do as they will. It is in their nature, it is their right,” he shrugs, “I am not a naive lad no more. You mightn’t have noticed how my beard matches the sheen of my sword, but I’ve seen many things. The old king... he had a few loves. None of them his wife.” 

“Love? Sir. It was a mistake, surely.” 

He is quiet as he shifts his soles. He turns one way then the other, “do you really believe that?” 

Your heart swells so big your ribs hurt. You cross your arms, hooking your hands over your shoulders. You chew your lip and look up at the tall grey man. 

“I don’t know what to believe. I thought I came to serve the queen. I thought... I don’t know, sir. I don’t. I wouldn’t ever hurt anyone. I wouldn’t want to.” 

“I know it,” he affirms, “you are the gentlest soul I’ve met. Well, since my own wife. Certainly, the king is taken with a summer soul like yours. How could he not be?” 

“Taken?” You utter in horror. “I am a maid. That’s all I am. It’s all I ever needed to be.” You sniffle and bring your hands to the edges of your hood, pushing it back to see him clearer, “sir, it keeps me safe.” 

“It did. It kept you safe when it could but that shield has broken.” 

“And what about you?” You murmur. 

He averts his gaze guiltily, “what the king does behind his own walls, I cannot stop. That night, he was unsafe. He threw caution away. For your sake, I deterred him. Reminded him of his duty.” He shakes his head and frowns at his boots, “you came to serve the king, you said, and that is what he intends.” 

You whimper. How can it be? He is wed. He has beautiful wife. And a throne. And an heir on the way. You’re just the maid. Just a maid. Not... that. 

“So, you would let him?” You challenge, a surge welling up your throat, a heat unlike anything you’ve felt before. 

“I serve the king too,” he mutters. “Though I do care for you, little mouse, how could I not? But I was commanded to see to you. To keep you unbothered. Unsullied.” 

Your legs wobble beneath you and you nearly fold over. You can’t stop the rush of emotion that overcomes you, the fire that burns in your veins and makes your vision bleary. You throw out your arms and shove Bryce. Once, twice, three times. He doesn’t budge, taking each in turn. 

“How dare you, sir! How dare you!” You hit his chest with your fists and collapse into him. “I never wanted it. I don’t. I don’t. I don’t.” 

“I know, sweet mouse, I know,” he curls an arm around you and sways, petting your hood, “you’ve every right to despise me. I will take whatever you have for me.” 

You heave and tamp down a throttling sob, “why, sir, why?” 

“It is... my duty.” 

You hear the strain in his voice, you feel the tremor that rolls through him, and how he clings tightly as if he fears you’ll push him away. You can’t. Even if he's hurt you, he is all you have. 

“I won’t beg forgiveness, I don’t deserve that,” he whispers, “but I’ll always be here for you, mouse, so long as you need.” 

You stay again him, silent and weak. You’re angry. You’ve never felt this sort of way. You’ve never felt as if you could tear your flesh from the bone just to let the tension out. You hate it. You’ve never hated anything but that feeling, you loathe it. It hurts worse than anything you’ve ever known. 

“I’m so sorry, mouse,” he continues to rock you, “so very sorry...” 

⚔️

You cannot blame your daze for nearly missing the castle right before you. The dark exterior blends into the rock face, set into the side of the mountain so that an untrained eye might not pick it out. The part splits into several streams, those for the stables, some soldiers to keep watch over the pass, and many more waiting to enter the great castle of Vulture’s Peak. 

As if to proclaim their name right, at least a dozen of the long-necked scavengers perch upon the towers. Bryce keeps you close as you keep astride. You peer toward the front of the crowd. The king’s white hair defines him among the bodies. He speaks with several black-garbed soldiers as Jazlene is helped down from the cart. Neither husband or wife acknowledge each other. 

You sit back and hang your head. Bryce breathes in through his nose and clucks, “right. Let’s get you to the queen.” 

You glance over, numb from more than the cold. He dismounts and brings you down to ground level. He fixes your cloak as it opens and lets in the stirring bluster. He finds a post to tie the horses to before he herds you towards the castle. 

You approach with your head down. The queen stands with a hand on her lower back though her bodice remains snug and flat to her unchanged stomach. The fur cloak drapes from her shoulders majestically as she stands with her head high. You stare at the hem of her skirt and await your orders. 

“Let us see to our host,” the king declares as he offers his arm to his queen, a stiff and despondent gesture.  

You keep your eyes down. You would rather wait without. You sense him pausing, looking around, and he turns to face the facade. He huffs. “Right, Sir Bryce, until I give the signal, you will keep all without.” 

“Your highness,” Bryce agrees and moves closer to you. 

King Geralt stalks through the snow with his wife in tow. Her words drift back behind her, “... so bleak. Is this how they receive a king and queen?” 

The king grunts but gives no answer as he pulls her onward, climbing the steps one by one as she slows him with her odd lean back. You turn to Bryce and tuck your chin down. Neither of you have said much since the pass. 

You wait, blowing into your hands and mulling back and forth. A restlessness stirs through the bodies around you, an uncertainty as you await the king’s confirmation. The lull carries on until the sun shifts into a new phase, or rather, the sky changes hue. 

The doors of the castle creak open and a slender woman descends the stairs. Her skin is smooth like polished brass and a similar hue, her hair is a shade of straw and her eyes are an eerie shade of jade. She wears a plain cloak on her shoulders and a square cap on the crown of her head. 

“Lord Vesemir welcomes the king’s company,” she speaks boldly above the din of curious murmurs. “Please come.” 

She beckons with her gloved hand and turns back to the castle. She walks forward without waiting. Bryce tuts, “typical.” He spins and waves, “you heard her, let’s go. Servants to the east, soldiers find your stations, lords and ladies, the west wing.” 

He spins and grabs your arm, ushering you ahead of the scrambling masses. You let him lead you on, though you might have preferred to stay in the gales.  

Inside, the walls are lit with mounted lanterns. The flames glow along the spacious hall and corridors haze amber to each side of you. Bryce keeps you close as he steps out of the way of the flood of bodies. He stops several other soldiers to direct them on how to accommodate the party. 

“Right,” he peers up the central staircase, with posts like spears, and he points you up it. 

“You know this place?” You keep your voice low as you come to the top. 

“Aye, been here now and again,” he says. “Vesemir isn’t the most hospitable. Not beyond a few, but the king does hold a special bond with the old bear.” 

“Oh,” you peer around at the plain tapestries, no patterns, just cut fabric to warm the walls. There is a single marked banner with symbols you do not recognise. 

“Do not fear. He is harmless. He puts on a mean snarl but he isn’t so mean as he pretends,” Bryce explains. 

You nod and skid to a halt in fright. A large bear stands by the wall, arms raised in attack, it’s great teeth bear in a growl. You squeak and knock into the soldier beside you. It’s white fur reminds you of the king’s tresses. 

“Oh, mouse, it’s long dead,” he pats your shoulder and laughs, “Vesemir claims to have killed the beast with his own hands. He doesn’t mention that no sound or wise man would be so far north as to meet a white bear such as this.” 

You gulp and gape at the large beast. 

“Stuffed. It’s hide preserved,” he points as he gets closer to it, unafraid, “when I first came, I had my sword drawn at the sight. It’s a cruel trick by the castle lord.” 

He touches the bear’s large claw and gestures you forward. You move forward and he takes your hand, putting it to the beast’s large paw. You feel the dried pads and shudder. He lets you go but you do not rescind your reach. You feel the fur of the creature, softer than you imagined. 

“Suppose we should get you where you need to be,” he exhales, taking out his sweet leaves to put some in his mouth. 

You pull back and face him. You wait for his guidance and he presses on. He pauses to ask a servant where the queen’s chamber lays. With his answer, you continue on. 

The two guards stand outside the doors. You recognise the one that is often there, with the coppery hair and sparse beards. The other is not familiar to you, though you’ve seen many faces on the road. Bryce nods to them and they let you through. 

“Don’t trouble her maid, she is in sensitive condition,” the orange-haired guard warns. 

“Eh,” Bryce growls, “mind yer business, she’ll mind hers.” 

“Don’t get your hackles up, old man,” the guard scoffs and you stop to look back. 

“In,” Bryce demands and points you through the door. 

You enter and the door closes out the voices, muffled by the barrier as their argument continues. The confrontation is most unexpected. You don’t recall either of the queen’s men ever speaking to you before. Most times, they barely took notice. You’re only happy Bryce was there to bark back at him. 

The queen is at the foot of her bed. She looks unhappy. You glance around the chamber, for a moment expecting the king to be lurking there with her. She is alone, holding her stomach as she breathes slowly. 

“Would you stop staring like a dolt and fetch a pail?” She garbles behind her hand. 

You grab the clean chamber pot from the corner and bring it to her. She seizes it and spits into it, though she hardly spits up more than saliva. She grumbles and shoves it back at you. 

“This place smells like cinder and dust,” she complains as you return the pot to its place. “And the snow is repugnant. To think, I am to be queen of ice. How dull. We should make our thrones in the summer lands.” 

Her gripes ease you. Those are expected, almost a comfort. 

“Hardly matters where I go, does it? The king never comes anyhow,” she whines and lays back across the mattress, “I carry his child and he doesn’t seem to care. Do you know what he said when I told him?” 

You don’t reply. She doesn’t want to hear more than her own voice. 

“He says, ‘see your duty done before you boast,’” she kicks her legs as they hang over the edge, “see it done? I have his seed in me and he is still distant. Will he see his child in my arms then command me see it to adulthood before my duty’s rewarded?” 

You stare at the wall. Her account of the king’s neglect sickens you, so much that you could spit up in the same pot as her. Is it you? Are you the reason he does not tend to her? Perhaps you do deserve her wrath more than you know. You wish in that moment that she would let it out upon you. You have earned any lashing she may give you. 

Though you may not have chosen your path, not as maid, not as traveler, not as the king’s desire, it does not matter. You will pay for the whims of your masters. As Merinda predicted, though not as she might have dreamt it, they have drawn you into great danger. 

[eviesaurusrex]

ᴀʟᴘɪɴᴇ | ʙ. ʙᴀʀɴᴇꜱ

summary: YN walks into their kitchen, ready to start baking Bucky’s favorite cupcakes, only for a white little intruder to thwart her plan.

prompt: There was a cat sitting in my kitchen. I don’t know where it came from because no one of my neighbors owns a cat. She just sat there on my kitchen table and stared into my eyes.

word count: 1.9k

warnings: none, pure fluff, Alpine being a little home intruder, Bucky being head over heels for her, Alpine already feeling perfectly at home, not entirely proofread

author’s note: I read the prompt, and I instantly thought of Bucky and Alpine. It’s nothing good because I’m tired, but we have to deal with it for now.

* * *

A sunny day passed at the windows of their cozy Brooklyn apartment, but YN still felt more at ease inside their home, not feeling the overwhelming urge to go outside and stock up on that vitamin D for free out there, even though fall was apparently just around the corner. She needed to go outside, but today wasn’t the day. Today was a staying as long at home as possible and not even thinking about going outside-day. At some point, everyone had such a day on their plate. Maybe today was the day because Bucky finally was back home after three cruel weeks in some rural part of the planet, without a phone line and without wifi to send a mail, telling her that everything was alright.

They had spent the entire morning and early afternoon in their bed, not in the mood to leave just yet, and had bathed in each other’s company. Bucky had drawn indecipherable patterns on her naked back, constantly pushing her to the brink of sleep again while the tv was running in the background, the countless rerun of Criminal Minds flickering over the screen. They had talked about everything and anything, Bucky had read to her, she had read to him, and they had cuddled enough to satiate their indescribable need to feel one another close again—for now.

He was showering now, and while he did that, YN could take up on her promise and bake his favorite cupcakes. She had wanted to bake them last night after Tony had informed her that Bucky, Steve, and Sam would return that night or the morning at the latest. Stubbornly, she had tried to stay awake, but ultimately, YN had fallen asleep in front of the tv on the couch, Grey’s Anatomy running in the background and lulling her into slumber, only waking up when she felt Bucky’s familiar warmth and his whispering words when he had picked her up and carried her to bed. He wasn’t too sad about the unprepped cupcakes because she had promised him, between heated and longing but also tired kisses, that she would make him some for breakfast or lunch.

Going through the list of ingredients in her head, YN strolled through the living room and into the kitchen, just to open the two windows there and let the soothing warmth of the afternoon air inside. Humming to a tune that kept stuck in her mind, she waltzed into the pantry next, stacking ingredient after ingredient into her arms, adding some colorful sprinkles to spice things up a bit, before waltzing back out—more careful now because non of them needed a flour incident yet again. “Gotta quickly jump downstairs to the store to get some more butter,” YN mumbled to herself, lost in her thoughts of planning the act of proceeding here, but fell silent at the sound of a soft meow.

At first, she thought she must’ve imagined it and slowly placed her ingredients onto the small kitchen island in the middle of the room, only to hear it again, louder this time. With the unopened pack of sugar still in her hand, YN raised her gaze and stared directly into a pair of the bluest eyes she had ever seen, a pink nose almost bumping against hers. Without moving, the two stared at one another; she even stopped breathing for a few seconds, thinking the cat might disappear right in front of her eyes and all this would just be a weird dream or a wild imagination. Maybe she was hallucinating because she didn’t eat anything today, and her blood sugar was low. But even after seconds without fresh oxygen and a deep inhale after that, the white cat still stood in front of her, her tiny paws still resting on the flour pack, her tiny nose still almost touching hers.

YN knew that this cat didn’t belong in here—they didn’t own one, and she knew for a fact that neither did their neighbors. The missing collar was just another indication of her suspicion that this cat was as homeless as she had once been. No one had wanted her, so she had searched for a place to call home on her own, probably just like this little fellow in front of her.

The sound of the stopping shower pulled the agent out of her head, and without moving her body an inch, she slightly pulled her head back to shout over her shoulder: “Uhm… Bucky?” Usually, this was all it took for the super soldier to come running and looking what his girl needed, and even after tiring weeks, she heard the sounds of his heavy steps coming closer and closer. “Everything alright, doll?” He still stood in the living room, not seeing the cat now sitting in front of YN, licking her paws and starting to clean her pristine white fur as if she wanted to make the most perfect first impression. “Well… Uh… We have a cat sitting in our kitchen.” Stepping one step aside, she opened the view for him and pointed to the small kitten—she couldn’t be much older than half a year—just in case he didn’t see the little intruder right away.

Bucky stopped moving, even breathing, as his eyes fell on the little creature now meowing in anticipation, and YN knew he felt just as confused as she still did. “I don’t know where she came from—well, okay, I know where she came from because there’s only one way in. She came through the window, obviously. But I don’t know where she came from. She just stood right in front of me, basically staring into my soul, and now she’s just… sitting there. I don’t know where she came from, but I also don’t know what-what to do?” YN had faced many difficult situations as an agent, many situations no average person would ever have to face, but this, this was uncharted territory even for her.

The white kitten meowed again, louder this time, staring from one human to another, waiting on her spot on the wooden countertop patiently, her fluffy tail sweeping from one side to the other.

YN stared back at Bucky to see his reaction to this quite unusual situation and saw him… starstruck. That was the only fitting adjective she could find at that moment, and she didn’t dare to say another word, not wanting to disturb him in his thoughts. She waited just as patiently as the little intruder did, both watching the man as closely as possible until he started moving. He crept closer and closer, a worried look now creeping up into his pretty blue eyes as he scooted inch after inch.

“What are you doing, love?” It was only a whisper, a soft giggle hiding in its depths. “Tryin’ not to scare her away, doll,” he answered even more quietly, eyes never leaving the cat, who apparently was as undisturbed by them as possible. “I don’t think she’s even slightly irritated by us, baby.” The giggle fought its way out of her body now, and Bucky finally looked at her, a teasing smile appearing on his handsome features. “And why are you still holding the sugar then, sugar?” Looking down at her hands, YN realized that she indeed held the pack of sugar and slowly placed it onto the kitchen island, but not even that disturbed the cat. She just quickly glanced from Bucky to her and back to the high-towering man.

Suddenly, she started to purr when he finally reached her, a hand slightly outstretched to let her sniff at it. But she didn’t even need to be soothed because in the next second, she elegantly jumped in his direction, and only his quick reflexes helped him to catch the cat before she could claw at his skin. “Woah there,” the brunet chuckled, cradling the now heavily purring cat in his arms and dwarfing her even more. His fingers started to scratch her soft belly, mumbling sweet nothings to her, and YN could see how heavily enraptured he already was with the tiny ball of white fur.

Slowly walking over to these two unalike seeming characters—but YN knew how much of a cuddler Bucky was, so the cat was basically him—the agent peaked into his arms to see a very content cat lying there, little paws stretched towards the ceiling and meowing in her direction as if she wanted to command even more attention. And she wasn’t that strong-willed when it came to cats. “Aw, you’re such a cute little home intruder, aren’t you?” She grinned happily as the kitten tried to catch her index finger between her paws, purring even harder when she felt YN scratch her lovingly under the chin. “And she just came through the window?” She looked up at Bucky’s quiet question, could hear the uncertainty swimming in his tone, and she nodded. “Yeah. Just sitting there all of a sudden, demanding attention and love, I suppose? She doesn’t wear a collar, and I don’t think she’s chipped, either. Look at how thin she is.” Her words turned into a worried mumble, but a smile soon etched its way back onto her face. “But you’re a strong one, little one. Yes, you are. Just like him.”

Bucky stared down at his best girl, watching her fall in love with the cat just as hard and fast as he had. He felt his heart ache and beat rapidly, especially as he watched them, knowing they must turn into a family now. He couldn’t leave the little fella all by herself, kicking her out again, putting her down in some pestering alleyway to fend for herself. She didn’t deserve it—just as he hadn’t deserved to be left behind. Just as YN hadn’t deserved it.

“We can’t put her back out there,” he finally dared to say, trying his luck, and he knew it. Sometimes, Bucky was sure that finding YN was all he could’ve hoped for, that this was all the luck the universe had granted him, but then, she had loved him back, had saved him from himself, and brought him back. They had built a home together and still loved each other, maybe even more so than at the very start. The bad dreams couldn’t get him here, the haunting memories were a distant white noise for most of the time, and even when they tried to attack him out of the shadows, YN was there to save him. That’s why he knew that this cat was meant for them. They had to protect her from the cruel outside world and welcome her in their cozy little corner of this planet.

And as Bucky glanced at YN between his long lashes, watching her face and her eyes as she finally looked up at him, he knew that she thought the same thoughts. He just knew. Apparently, the cat knew it as well because she turned in his arms, jumped down to the ground, and almost pranced toward their couch. Stretching, she prepared herself and jumped onto the cushions looking over at them and picking her favorite—the dark green one YN loved to use when Bucky’s thigh wasn’t around—and plopped down, making herself comfortable.

Softly, he wrapped his arm around the woman he loved and pulled her into his side, eyes still watching how this cat already felt perfectly at home.

“I think we have a cat now,” YN grinned and looked up at Bucky in perfect timing of his bending head and his soft lips on top of hers. “Any name ideas?” He hummed lowly at the question, lips still connected in a gentle kiss, before leaning their foreheads together and gently nudging the top of her nose with his.

“How about Alpine?”

* * *

Two in two days, what’s happening??? Anyway: I hope you liked it and enjoyed reading this one. If you did: I’d love a reblog and your thoughts about it! I know I once had a taglist, but I kinda lost it on my Mac and didn’t want to look for it now. Sorry.

[landoscaring]

my thoughts after the statements provided by mclaren, lando, and oscar about team orders (azerbaijan gp media day)

folks, it's happening.

everyone and their mother is losing their freaking head over the confirmation we've been waiting to hear for weeks: oscar has been asked by mclaren to help lando's wdc chances.

couple of things, in no particular order:

1. the key word is asked. for weeks oscar has been adamant in his interviews about the fact that the team hadn't asked him to help lando. take monza as an example where he was basically told the complete opposite. am i glad they asked? not really. did i know they would? of course.

2. where did the hesitancy come from, you may ask, why did they wait so long? there's a few possible reasons, all of them purely speculative. i for one believe they needed more data to move on with the plan. it wouldn't make much sense to go all the way with the lando wdc agenda if they were unsure about the ratio between lando's performance, the car's performance, annnnnd red bull's shitshow. monza confirmed all three (i would argue we've known for a little longer than that, but i am no strategist). max's performance going down consistently was most likely the final push they needed to make the call.

3. what does this mean for oscar? we'll know for sure on sunday, i think, but i'm pretty positive we'll see same old osc trying to score as many points as possible (think wcc). he will not slow down or make any significant changes to how he approaches the race. there's an a-z list of scenarios at play here, but things will most likely boil down to him helping lando out mid race (think pit order, covering, helping him find cleaner air) and in the last few laps, if he finds himself in a better position, he'll most likely slow down and let lando pass. i don't think this is necessarily a situation that will be recurrent for the rest of the season, realistically. oscar's only ever been in front of lando a handful of times.

4. what does lando say? what you'd expect from an experienced driver like him. he understands that oscar has a right to race him, and he doesn't want him to simply roll over and let him pass every race. plans seem to have been discussed, so in good theory things should work out. as lando said, people on the outside think it's as easy as just telling oscar to help him and bam, wdc achieved. a lot of things are going to play a part here, and even with oscar's help lando's wdc is still a stretch (think race strat mistakes they've made in the past, risky corners, and ferrari's rising performance with charles in 3rd place in the standings.)

5. why are team orders so controversial? they've been around forever. i think most of us just like to romanticize the situation because we like both drivers so much, and thus we want them to succeed equally. that's just not possible in this sport. both drivers know this, and we as fans have to make peace with it.

6. sigh. mclaren, mclaren, mclaren. i've been guilty of cursing them many, many times, but to offer some perspective: i think newer fans might not realize that there are three elements in F1 that guarantee a team's success. There's having a good driver lineup, a competitive car, and an effective team strategy. most teams have been trying to get all three for decades. some have the strat and the car, but not the drivers. some have the drivers and the strat, but not the car. mclaren very recently checked off the car box, and the lineup box, and they've been struggling with the last one. they've only been in this position for months, and they've had a lot of movement within the team. hopefully they figure it out for the upcoming season.

anyways, enough rambling. let's hope for the best, y'all 🧡

[sivseven]

housemates and some others

archons x gn reader [smau & hcs] (modern au)

[potential romantic: venti, zhongli, ei, furina, mavuika ft. neuvillette & scara // platonic: nahida]

Economy in Teyvat has recently been… less than stellar and you have had some certain huge adjustments. Mainly because when you accepted your work, you had to move to the city because that was where your place of work was located. Your line of work does not really want you flaking out on them, meaning you have to be close by when you are needed on certain emergencies.

And so, you had to look for listings on a living space. Most apartments were quite expensive, nothing your current savings could not handle… for like the first three months. But you had to scrap that, you’d rather not risk it, especially on possible medical emergencies that could put a dent on your bank savings.

But then, by some miracle, just a month before your new work starts, you found something relatively cheap — except the very reason why it is cheap is because the villa you will be living in will be shared with a couple of people around. Six to seven people, give or take. And that is not even including you.

You had decided to inquire, and to no one’s surprise, the owner accepts you after running a background check and getting your deposit. You’re already good to go and have been told that you won’t move in until a week later after the last few renovations are done.

You met with your landlord by then, and you are positively smitten — Mister Neuvillette is so nice and dreamy. You feel nothing but some intense catholic guilt for just imagining stupid things that involve him and you.

But this isn’t about you and him.

It’s about you and your really weird roommates.

VENTI

A musician, a composer, just an overall bonafide artist, some kind of member in an idol group that you may or may not be exposed to already — a soul like no other with one hell of a talent in drinking.

He once invited you to hang out with him on a patio, wanting your input for his new piece, you ended up drunk out of your mind with what you think to be the start of your liver problems and maybe the shortening of your lifespan.

Venti is terribly cryptic with his words and it takes every fiber of your being not to crack his skull open to just… understand what is going on with his mind. You tried deciphering most of the shit that he was saying to no avail.

He has a tendency to give you a quick ‘ehe ;P’ whenever he breaks your things, and he pays them eventually… in installments, one measly mora for each week, he tells you all the time about how he’s a starving artist with no mora to his name.

(He quite literally invited you and your other roommates to watch him perform a concert with his idol group, and you watched him get paid stacks for it — and of course, you made him buy you a new pair of headphones).

He owns a blue dragon he named Dvalin and it just floats around the tank like some washed up corpse. To this day, you don’t know if Dvalin is a plastic toy or an actual sea slug.

A huge troll — mostly to Zhongli, hassling him constantly about the ‘good old days’ and how Zhongli was so old and that he sure looks like it (probably from all his boring work, according to Venti).

One of the biggest shit talkers, but he is so cryptic about it that it takes a while for the target to understand, yes you have been on the receiving end at times but in good fun (like hiding his alcohol).

But he does shit talk anyone that does you wrong. Like any time you come to him just venting about this one person, he is quick to jump on your side and even quicker to say something so underhanded about that person that even you’re a little baffled. You and him are definitely a pair of gossip besties.

ZHONGLI

One of the more levelheaded residents in your little clubhouse arrangement. He is responsible, and extremely well put. He has the energy of either a good househusband or a grandpa, waiting for you with tea.

You got along fairly well, and you have unofficially promoted him as your encyclopedia since he seems to know so much, especially from his nation. A proud Liyuen through and through.

He has a regal aura around him, kind of like your landlord, but for some reason, you hardly see the both of them chatting or having tea. You once tried to set up an afternoon tea with him and Neuvillette, and both cancelled on you despite seemingly interested at first.

Come to think of it, you never once had him accompany you to Neuvillette’s office to pay rent — the rest always accompanies you, Furina and Nahida more often than the rest just to have some tea and chat with him. But Zhongli never did.

He is wise beyond his years, and has himself a job as a museum director. This man is a historian, you’re pretty sure with how much knowledge he has around the world. His room is always off-limits to Venti (which turns into your room becoming the drunk’s usual hangout spot that isn’t his room) because sometimes he takes home rare artifacts that could crumble into dust if anyone even dared breathing on it.

He has… odd friends. Really… really odd friends. You thought they were cold at first, but then you realized, the moment they started talking, they sound like regal idiots that are so awkward with talking, like they are not used to talking to people of your caliber (which is like… way below them).

A stickler for contracts, never did break them once. Any deal you make with him is written on paper. You still have a souvenir of a crude contact written in a Starbucks napkin.

Every time you guys go out, dinner is automatically on you. He always forgets his wallet at home that at this point, you consider giving him a chain for his wallet to not forget it.

He has a frog named Azhdaha and it hates you… and a bit of Zhongli too.

EI

Bless this woman. She is your purple wife, a hardcore recluse and gamer, going in her room for hours to just game. You’ve come to learn that Ei is a popular streamer and has once walked in on her doing so when you came to bring her dinner over.

You nearly got cancelled because apparently, her parasocial fans really dislike the idea of her having a possible caring partner that brings her food out of nowhere. They found your twitter quickly and some asshole was planning to dox you so they can hunt you down and punish you for stealing their ‘gamer wife’.

For some reason, even after that debacle, she makes you sit beside her at times during a stream and makes you ‘get along’ with her chat.

You nearly had a #[Name]IsOverParty a second time when you lightly directed her to the right direction when she was exploring the same game you were also playing just to help her, saying you were being condescending and that apparently it means you must not believe women can be gamers.

Ei cannot cook. It’s like her cooking just cannot exist in any type of universe. You were sure that if there was another universe where even she is an almighty ruler of a nation, she’d still be unable to cook.

You once made the mistake of asking her to cook you something when you were newly introduced in the house and she gave you the weirdest looking soba noodles. You swore it looked at you, but she had an expectant look on her face that you had no choice but to stomach it.

You and her are the epitome of the meme that goes like ‘x who just woke up at 2am’ 🤝 ‘y who is just about to sleep at 2am’.

Often these run ins turn into a 2am session of just binging shitty videos on the internet, or her trying to teach you the better builds for your Tarnished after you make yourself and her a bowl of instant ramen noodles.

She has a friend… Yae Miko, who is some… CEO of a publishing company. She terrifies you sometimes and you do not recommend being alone with the both of them, it is likely you will not survive for reasons… that are not to be disclosed.

NAHIDA

You were confused when you first met her. Actually, you even asked your other roommates if they also brought their kid. And everyone looked at you and said, “Oh yeah, that’s Nahida, don’t worry, she makes the best soup when you’re sick.”

And you were just genuinely perplexed about her existence. She is a literal child, but her mind transcends so much — you can even say it has a better mileage than Venti’s, but to be fair, he has borderline alcoholism to deteriorate his cognitive functions, so that probably wasn’t saying much.

She is the epitome of someone who either knows too much or knows too little and there is little space for the normal in between.

Also wise beyond her years… how many that may be. You wonder how she can pay for her rent or even afford to live without her parents… but apparently, it’s better that you know little about her origins, and that her family is with you and your other roommates (it was so hard not to melt at that).

So how can she pay for her share on the rent? She has a covert consultancy job in managing databases. For some reason, this kid is more tech savvy than you will ever be. Everyone comes to her to troubleshoot their phones and she is always happy to entertain them, provided that you let her make you try her candied al— akji… ajilenakh nuts. In all fairness though, they are pretty damn good.

Does she go to school? Technically? But she does it remotely, on her laptop, so there are hours within the day where the villa is so quiet just so Nahida can have her time with her, what you are sure, are university-level lessons.

She has a snake called Apep. It disappears from its cage randomly, and holy shit does it put everyone on edge. Everyone forgets Apep until she turns up three months later.

She has… a friend? No, a son (??), just… someone she supervises. And it’s the saltiest guy you’ve ever met. He’s an asshole but somehow you guys are casual friends that send each other the shittiest memes. He is… definitely well-connected. Nahida supervises him, he is in the same idol group with Venti and a companion of Zhongli’s (the emo one, you recall), and for some reason, he is tense and frosty around Ei.

You and her have tea parties together, with Furina usually and Zhongli. And she always accompanies you when it’s time to pay your monthly dues.

FURINA

Your darling wife in blue. She is actually also a popular figure in Teyvat. An opera singer who is constantly making the most groundbreaking performances in Teyvat. She is from Fontaine, so of course it is already very much expected.

For some reason, she is the only one with a discounted rent payment? Neuvillette permitted it, and when you asked him, he said he was looking after Furina and you just fell harder for the man.

Not going to lie, when you first met her, you were intimidated and a little standoffish. She was a star, a literal legend, a household name that even as someone who doesn’t dabble much in opera arts, you just… know her from the news.

But the moment you further got to know her, you had a cultural reset with how incredibly subdued and skittish Furina is. She is so easy to startle and extremely sensitive. You found out how much of a class act she is though.

The definition of healing her inner child. You walk into her room and you nearly got confused if it was Nahida’s or hers. But if not for the blue themed room, you’d have definitely mistaken her room for someone else’s. It wasn’t just… something you would ever expect from a star like her. Her room’s most distinct features were the four plushies that sat on her big queen bed.

A crab, a seahorse, an octopus, and a huge… thing. She said it was an Oceanid, made for her by the production that she starred a play in which was titled “The Little Oceanid”. You watch her snuggle with it when you would crash in her room just to give her some company.

She hates, hates, HATES, being alone. Not her thing. Not ever. You asked, and it was something about her being isolated for so many years despite the fact that she is a literal star. And because of that, your room gained a new tenant other than the alcoholic idol.

She has a close relationship with Neuvillette, hence the docked rent. They seem to go way back and she always joins you to his office when it’s time to pay rent. You once tried to ask her to put in a good word for you and she looked at you, offended, because she thought you and her were planning a long term cohabitation that was not at all discussed beforehand.

This goes without saying, but she invites everyone to her plays. Front row seats every time and it is just… magical every time she is out there, shining.

MAVUIKA

She is definitely the most normal roommate there is. But she’s also kind of popular? In a sense that she has a lot of connections. She has friends who are actually normal? People you can actually talk to?? No offense to Xianyun, Houzhang, and Jiehu.

Her friends come in to storm the villa every now and then. Your most memorable one was probably this Kinich guy and his rabid… dog, Ajaw. It tried to bite off any person that came close, and it won’t stop barking. Kinich calls Ajaw the yappatron and none dare contest such a name.

Other than in real life, Mavuika is also really popular online. Mostly because of her biker chick aesthetic. Apparently, the internet ate it up. How did they know? Ei posted a picture of Furina taking a selfie with her and Mavuika (and somehow your back was caught on the background picture too). Ever since then, her quiet 8k followers on Twitter and Insta blew up into a million followers.

The opposite of Zhongli. When you two go out together for dinner, it’s HER shout. It always is, somehow it evens it out, you’re not sure why. Of course, those dinners always involve you riding her bike with her.

You guys are the definition of bait. Absolute bait. You post each other on stories, which is just, hilarious because it leaves her fans always speculating. So far no one has decided on which one is it. Though in the end, as crazy as they are, you’re grateful Mavuika’s whipped fans aren’t really as terrifying as Ei’s. No one dared to cancel you and were just making some deranged comments of having a threesome with you and her. Well, now you’re not so sure which is worse.

There is an unoccupied room in the house, and Mavuika uses it for her home gym. She works out and you watch, but you always run away before she could drag you to join her. You tried, but her workouts are so intense, you’d literally rather have liver failure.

Undoubtedly one of the most caring roommate you’ve had the pleasure of living with. She is incredibly dependable and is just a warm blanket of a person. You once got sick and she’s there caring for you when Nahida is busy.

Mavuika is a street racer, and often wins it. You’re not really sure the ins and outs of it, but you’re pretty damn sure that she is, quite literally, loaded from winning those races.

You ask her why she’s still living with you all if she’s already loaded, she only shrugged and dragged you to her room, never to be seen again.

extras:

NEUVILLETTE

SCARAMOUCHE