#like granted I’m a regular and he knows me but it’s still so funny

[just-rogi]

Ik I’m not white passing bc every Arab restaurant owner who sees my face can instantly clock me as brown and give me extra food and discounts and ask if I speak Arabic and if I’m staying in school and where my family is from and my thoughts on soccer, like sorry Emxly on tiktok just who learned the word white passing last week thinks that I’m not brown, but the Azerbaijani pizza shop staff cheer when I walk in the door so maybe it’s a skill issue?

[lumiolivier]

Feel Better, Sweetheart

Series: One Piece

Chapter: One Shot

Word Count: 2296

Rating: T

Pairing(s): Law x Reader (YN)

You're not feeling too hot...It's a good thing the doctor's cute...but he's also mean. And means well.

“YN?” You knew right then and there.  That gentle, yet viciously biting voice floating through the air that could warm and chill all the same.  You were screwed.  You were hard at work, finishing up some paperwork for the Polar Tang.  Just some logistical things.  Mostly the grocery list for the next time you were at port.  But that was the funny thing…

You were supposed to be in bed already.  You were supposed to have those blankets pulled up to your chin while you slept on your stomach as ordered.  Instead, you were still hard at work.  Despite your violent chills that froze you to the bone, hoarse cough that rattled both your chest and the entire ship every time it came out, and thousand pound head that was just about to the point where it distorted your vision.  You could hardly see straight and yet, you pressed on with all of your regular administrative duties.  Even though it went against both doctor’s and captain’s orders…And you were about to reap what you’ve sown.

“Captain…” You sat up to the best of your ability.  Although it felt like someone was twisting your spine as hard as they could.  You knew mistakes were made.  And you were about to get viciously rammed for them.

“What are you doing in here?” Law asked, leaning against the doorway, his steely gaze glaring you down.  Oh, yeah.  You’re definitely screwed.

“I…” You could hardly speak.  Your voice was shot.  Violent coughing fits did that to you, “I was working on…”

“You were working?” Oh, yeah.  You’re absolutely screwed.  And a pissed off Trafalgar Law was not something you wished on your worst enemies…Well, maybe a few.  But like this?  Oh, no.

“It still needs to get done, Law,” you rolled your eyes.  Although, you immediately regretted it.  You could’ve easily thrown up right then and there.  But you held it back.  Not in front of Law.  You knew the kind of disaster that would breed.

“You do know,” Law moved closer to you.  Granted, under any other circumstances, with that same fire in his eyes, you’d be sweating.  And in a much better way than you sweating out a fever, “I have Penguin and Shachi down here, right?  That they’ve been more than capable of picking up your slack, right?  That you’re supposed to be in bed when you’re this sick, right?  Not just because you need the rest, but so you’re not infecting the rest of the ship, right?”

“I know.” But…Did you?  Did you really?  Of course not.  You were a vicious workaholic and Law knew that the day he brought you onto the Polar Tang.  And yet…You come down with something and all of a sudden, he seems to forget that, “But…!”

“No.”

“Law…”

“Don’t you Law me,” Law groaned, “Go.  Bed.  Now.”

“Fine,” you caved, “But let me finish up with-”

“YN…” Law held his face in his hands.  He knew he’d have to do it the hard way.  Whether you liked it or not, “You’re not finishing anything.  You’re going to go to bed.  I’m going to have Bepo watching the door, so I don’t have to worry about you.”

“Law…”

“No,” Law didn’t even think twice.  He scooped you up and threw you over his shoulder.  It was like carrying nothing for him and yet, he carried his everything.

“Law!” You flailed, kicking yourself into another coughing fit.  And you fell limp in his arm.

“You were saying?” You hated when Law got smug.  When you could hear the I told you so in his voice.  When you wanted to lock him in a room in the Polar Tang all by himself and tell him to open a window.  But you knew he meant well.  He always meant well when it came to you.  Especially when you were as sick as you were.

“I told you,” you could finally catch your breath again.  And Law paraded you down the hall to your room, “I still have, cough, cough, shit to do.”

“And I told you.” Or so you thought he was bringing you to your room.  Instead, he went down a few more doors and into his own room, “You need the rest, YN.  You know I wouldn’t be doing this unless you had me worried.  And right now, you do.  There’s a reason why I was keeping you from work.  You don’t need to be wasting your energy on us right now.  You need to get better.  And you’re not going to do that with your face buried in paperwork.  Do you understand?”

You hated when Law babied you.  When he treated you like you were made out of sugar.  You were more than capable of getting better and getting your work done.  But in your defense, you were also getting worse as the days went by and Law had to manhandle you onto his bed.  When he got you tucked in, you started to see his perspective much clearer, “Yes, Captain.”

“Hey,” Law sat at the edge of his bed and pulled you into his lap, “No need to be so formal, sweetheart.  It’s just you and me.  And I know this shit’s rough, but you’ll get over it.  And when you do, we’ll all be waiting for you.  But we also deserve you at your best.  Got it?”

“Fine,” you fell limp in Law’s bed and nuzzled into his thigh, “Hey, Law?”

“Hmm?” Law pushed your hair out of your face, “What do you need?”

“I, uh…” you bit your lip, knowing the further ass reaming you were about to get, “I’m a little hungry.  Do you think you could get me something to eat?”

“I’m just glad your appetite’s coming back,” Law kissed your forehead, “Of course.  Tell you what.  I’ll even make it myself if I have…Hold on.”

And there it was.  There was the sudden realization that would make Law want to kill you even more.  You braced yourself for impact, “What?”

“YN…” Law sighed out, “Have you eaten anything today?”

“You said it yourself, Law,” you threw it back in his face, hoping that could serve as your armor, “My appetite’s been in and out since I’ve been sick.  Cut me some-”

“No.” Law refused to give you any slack.  But he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t happy you were eating again, “Stay here.  If you even so much as move, I will know.  I’ll be right back.  This shouldn’t take long to make.  Ok?”

“Ok.” Not that you really had the energy to move anyway.  You were too wrecked to fight him anymore.  And the warmth in his bed was quite lovely…and it smelled nice, too.  Like sandalwood and leather.  With just a little bit of sea air.  You weren’t complaining.  However, you thought about taking a nap.  Until another coughing fit got to you.  And it rattled your chest like some manner of creature wanted to get out.  You’d be more than happy to let it out if you knew how.

“YN,” Law came in with a bowl in his hand and sat at the edge of his bed.  He put it down on the nightstand and helped you sit up a bit better.  Although, you still wanted to go to sleep.  For just a while. 

“Mmm…” you laid your head on Law’s thigh and shut your eyes.

“No, no,” Law nudged you up to his chest, “I just made you something to eat.  You’ve hardly eaten anything in days.  You’re eating.”

“Mmm…” Your stubbornness would put Law into an early grave.  But in your defense, you were sick.  You were already miserable.  Anything you could do to make yourself comfortable at this point, you were going to do it.  It was Law’s fault for taking you away from your desk.  You were perfectly fine…ish. 

“No,” Law grabbed the spoon out of your bowl and held it up to your mouth, “Eat, YN.”

Lazily, you wrapped your lips around the spoon and finally started eating.  Although, you weren’t expecting it to taste so good.  And a little spicy.  Not that you were mad about it, “What is that?”

“Cora-san called it a medicine ball,” Law sat you up a little more and continued to feed you, “When I’d get sick as a kid like you are now, he’d always get nervous.  So, the least he could do was feed me and keep me from starving to death.  But back when he was still with the Marines, half his platoon ended up coming down with the flu.  There was one who was visiting their base that week.  She made this for everyone.  They were down in the morning.  She fed them.  They were all good to go by the next morning.  And it worked for me when I was younger, too, so I don’t see why it wouldn’t work for you, too.”

It always warmed your heart to hear Law talk about Corazon.  But it broke you all the same that you’d never get to meet him, “What was her name?”

“I don’t remember,” Law thought back, “Belle…?  Bella…?  Something like that.  Rumor has it, she ended up lost at sea.  Cora-san said she was a nice lady.  Wouldn’t surprise me if there was a little something, something between them at some point.  That wasn’t the last time he talked about her.  The man had his moments when he was a hopeless romantic.  It’s weird to think about in hindsight, but whatever made him happy, I guess.”

“Actually…” You wouldn’t admit it out loud, but having Law spoon feeding you was doing something to your heart and soul.  You weren’t sure if it was the deep nostalgic connection or if it was something else.  The thought of being taken care of.  The thought of being up on that pedestal.  The thought of still being asleep at your desk and waking up just enough to realize you were being carried in Law’s arms, but asleep enough to stay that way.  Regardless of the psychological aspect of it, you were fighting back a smile with everything you had, “This is really good, Law.  I appreciate it.”

“You’re welcome,” he spooned another bite of soup into your mouth and cradled your cheek in his palm, “I wish we had some bread, too.  Not that this won’t give you everything you need, but something more substantial in your stomach would be nice, too.”

“I’ll make some when I get better.”

“But,” Law put the bowl on the nightstand, “You need to get better first.  And you can’t do that if you’re busting your ass at your desk.  I’d rather not have to peel you off your chair again.  Or worse, from off the floor.  I don’t need you passing out on me, sweetheart.”

“Sorry…” You winced a bit as a jolt of pain ran through your head.

“No need for apologies now,” Law settled you, making sure you were covered up.  He checked you quickly for a fever.  The back of his hand on your forehead felt phenomenal, “Your fever’s still a little too high for my liking.  I’m going to go get you some medicine and then, I’ll let you get some sleep.  When was the last time you got a full, continuous eight hours?”

“Uh…” In all honesty, you couldn’t think of the last time you got decent sleep.  That may have attributed to your current predicament.  But you knew telling Law would just result in a verbal spanking and you didn’t have the lecture in you today, “I’m not entirely sure.  I’ve been sleeping, though!  Does that count for something?”

“More than it should,” Law knew better.  He knew your sleeping habits were…less than stellar.  And he’s tried.  Bless him, he’s tried to do everything in his power to try and get you on a normal sleeping schedule, but it’s only led to you spending more nights on watch duty than anything else, “Some sleep is better than no sleep, I suppose.  But you are going to sleep tonight.  I will make sure of it.”

“And how do you propose you’ll do that, Dr. Trafalgar?” you taunted him, knowing your body didn’t allow you much for sleep anyway, “Are you going to put me in a coma?”

“Why would I put you in a coma?” Law chuckled under his breath, “You forget where you are.  You’re in my bed.  And I know for a fact that if there’s anywhere on the entire ship you can sleep and sleep hard, it’s right here.  Once I give you your last dose of medicine for the night, I’ll risk myself getting sick for you getting a decent night’s sleep.  I will gladly share my bed with you.”

Although the sentiment was touching, you knew the real reason he was staying with you, “You just want to make sure I stay in bed like you told me to, don’t you?”

“I’d be lying if I said that wasn’t an ulterior motive,” Law confessed, already pulling you into his arms, “But I also can’t be too mad at this either.  I miss you, YN.  Sure, I’ve been taking care of you for the last couple days, but I miss you.  There’s a big difference between having you as my patient and having you as my girlfriend.  And I miss the latter.”

Law didn’t get sentimental often.  But hearing him pour his heart out…at least as much as Law could…melted you inside.  You laid your head in his chest, listening to the steady beating of his heart, and you shut your eyes, “Ok.  Stay with me.”

“That’s the plan,” Law kissed the top of your head and pulled your blankets over you, “Good night, YN.  I love you…Feel better, sweetheart…”

[autisticlancemcclain]

fic rec friday 60

hello and welcome to fic rec friday! where, on friday, i rec five of my favourite fics.

Dream, Seam by @ardett and @maychorian

Lance is the blue paladin. The Galra realize this before he does.

y'all....this au is insane. like genuinely one of the coolest concepts i have seen in this fandom. lance, taken by the galra as an infant and raised by them (altho they treat him like shit, obviously, so fair warning for that), as an asset, because they know he is the blue paladin, because he can See things he should not be able to see? and then he has to get integrated into voltron...yall nothing i can say can do this au justice. there's this almost ethereal feel to the entire fic, there were several moments where my chest was swoopy and my breathing was off bc i was like oh god oh god oh god. the complicated relationships, lance's struggle, and ALSO BONUS!!! das thace!!! i miss dad thace!!! do my fellow voltron geriatrics remember when dad thace was everywhere!! bc i do!! and i miss it!!!

2. five times someone didn't know keith and lance were dating, and one time everyone did by Shorty

Keith shrugs nonchalantly. “I’m still mad about the whole ‘babe’ thing.” ... Or, exactly what the title says.

there is nothing i can say about this fic that isn't in the title 💀 it's exactly what it says it is. and it hits. but some crumbs to intrigue you: 1) one of the tags on this fic is 'hunk is a hunk', 2) it's a 2016 fic, and 3) trust me.

3. Some Secrets Don't Need To Be Kept by @squirenonny

Keith finds out he's part Galra. It's not as big a deal as he expects.

look. sometimes i just want things to be soft. what if keith had it easy? for once in his fucking life? what if people chilled the hell out? for ten minutes? this is seven thousand words of people being like hey keith u know what. take it easy. we got u babes. and i am grateful

4. How to Fake an Interest in Biochemical Engineering by @squirenonny

Shiro has a crush on Matt Holt. But every time he runs into Matt he ends up embarrassing himself. Shiro's best friend Allura is no help. His little brother Keith is even worse. But Shiro is going to make his move before graduation if it kills him. (And it just might kill him.)

SHATT SHATT SHATT SHATT SHATT. shockingly, i didn't just choose this one bc of the recent discourse lol. this is another 2016 fic that i adore. it's just -- disaster shiro, whipped shiro, down bad shiro, sweet matt, cackling keith, shiro who is dying of embarrassment, gay as all fuck shiro, etc etc. it hits. i laughed.

5. Neighbors by starryeyedchar

Lance stood in front of him, but it was a Lance he'd never seen before. Granted, Keith didn't know him well by any means, but he was positive that the regular Lance would be leaning against the doorframe with a smirk, maybe a couple finger-guns. Not this. This Lance had wrapped himself in a blanket, and was still shivering slightly. His skin was much paler than usual, with flushed cheeks and sweat on his brow. He sniffled. “Um.” Or the one where Keith and Lance live in apartments next to each other, and Lance is too sick for Keith to just leave him by himself.

this one is just very dorky and sweet. i love any fic that captures the exact moment in keiths brain when he goes oh no oh shit oh fuck hes HAWT and lance looks like genuine actual shit actually. its so funny to me

that’s it for today!! i’ll see y’all back next friday for the next fic rec post!!!

[dramaturgydrakes]

Hnmmm I’m bad at asking questions but I want to know more about baby!hermes AU/any headcanons you have for epic!hermes so uhh use this ask to shameless share stuff

ok ok i dont actually have too much cuz its like 6am BUT.

rebabied hermes AU

he has a cow plushie. possibly made by penelope? either way it’s funny

ABSOLUTELY tried to steal ody’s cattle first thing. ended with anti-hermes measures aided by apollo

has woken up ody and pen several times playing the lyre like a guitar in the middle of the night. for funsies.

while he’s very bold, he’s also very easily spooked. bolts faster than a cat at sudden movements and loud noises (realizing my hermes is very catlike help)

notoriously known for “if you can’t find him, he’s causing trouble.” ody and pen will search the palace for him for hours then find out him and telemachus are wreaking havoc down in the market

he can ramble for hours. either about the same thing or he jumps topics every 30 seconds. sometimes it devolves into gibberish. penelope is VERY used to this from ody and tele and able to actually engage, while ody looks at her like “?? is this what i put you through”. telemachus is “← his ass is NOT listening” but sits thru it without a problem

for the first few weeks he pretends that he has to shed feathers just to cause problems for One Specific Servant he doesn’t like. then apollo stops by like “why tf is the palace covered in baby fluff. this is unnecessary” and hermes has to actually communicate because apollo is trained to see through his bs lol

ody tries to put him in timeout and he goes “you’re MY great-grandson!! and i’m a god!!! you can’t make me do anything!! YOU go in the corner!!!!!” which earns him a very long lecture from penelope as the alternative. never fusses over timeout again and does a very good job thinking about what he’s done. as an equivalent for stickers pen just gives him interesting little baubles that have his attention for hours afterwards

despite being a small child he still traumatizes telemachus with completely unnecessary tidbits about ody. then they go cause problems together anyways

probably more later idk lol

epic / regular hermes

he’s a stoner. this is basically accepted as canon by most fans now but i digress

this is kinda more general hermes than just epic, but: i imagine that when ody was a baby he was a BIG crier—anticlea and laertes were up almost every night trying to figure out how to calm him down. then, one night, anticlea wakes to him crying, but it stops suddenly and she panics, hurrying to his room. there, instead of something terrible, she finds hermes gently dancing with baby ody and singing lullabies that apollo used to sing to him. ody is absolutely enamored with him, just staring up at hermes with the biggest, most fascinated eyes. i imagine hermes also has his facial wings aside, but baby ody doesn’t seem at all scared of having the full attention of six glowing eyes :)

every problem odysseus causes is reason for celebration. every trick, every feat, every theft—and, at the same time, every generosity to the beggars and less fortunate of his kingdom. (i mean. hermes is a patron of groups that are usually lower class hshhs)

he and apollo are besties now but apollo absolutely still has days where he wants to throttle hermes. especially when hermes brings up the cows. hermes LOVES bringing up the cows. apollo proceeds to set his clothes on fire, like any immensely irritated big brother

sad moment but hermes has so much guilt over odysseus’s suffering. he’s meant to protect travelers, and he’s granted odysseus as much luck and protection as he can, but he couldn’t protect his crew and he couldn’t spare his great-grandson from horrible anguish. i know gods in mythos care very little for mortals, but hermes just feels different to me. in the odyssey he’s very kind and benevolent, legitimately caring for odysseus from what we can tell, and seeing his family in so much pain hurts him too

he visits anticlea frequently after her death

my brain is not at functioning capacity so this is all i got but yeah :)

[planet-crait]

Okay so I lied I uh can’t find episode 6. Of anyone has help for that I would appreciate it. Anyways episode 7 does not have the intro and once again I am devastated.

It should be illegal to be that perked up on a Monday. Mondays are evil I have decided. Wait Hazel made a new friend? Dang it curse missing episode 6. Oh Jasmine uh she struggles to sing oh no. At least she’s proud to sing.

Oh Hazel. Fame is uh not what it’s cracked up to be. Is this technically cheating in a contest? Wait didn’t Timmy wish to be popular not involve Father Time? And Hazel being confused about the 15 minutes being literal is strange since that wasn’t her wish it was to be famous.

But also what’s the cost? If he offered a deal…what’s the cost? Fairy’s don’t usually have a cost or even a deal aspect it’s just wish then granted. Also we can clearly see their is hardly any sand in the top while their is quiet a bit on the bottom.

And I’m pretty sure later the watch looks the same despite have some 22 hours left so it’s a very odd choice to do this.

Also side note uh I had to break out a calculator to do that math and Hazel did it in her head? It I’m afraid of her power.

Wait is that squirrel supposed to be Timmy? Was he a squirrel at one point?

Wasn’t this guy a movie star before? Are they just reusing the not Timmy model or does he have two jobs and is working the grind? Not important at all I wouldn’t be surprised if they had to reuse models for stuff given the right budget but also it could be a commentary on the massive wage gaps for movie stars.

Hazel wears hand me downs. I appreciate that as someone with an older sister I always had those. Interesting she wears her older brothers clothes or is it just his shirt because she likes it and wants to feel close to him or she has to? Not important at all but interesting character thing depending on which it is.

Huh why did Cosmo become the interviewing girls mug?

I was wondering when the principle would appear again. Funny it’s this episode. I do like the show showing the haters side of fame even if it’s more over the top to get the point across. The more in the spotlight you are the more jerks come out of the woodworks. The kids all booing her is kind of hilarious though.

Wait they have a separate school for “famous” kids? What state is Dimedelphia in? Cuz Hollywood could potentially be in another state? I’m not sure how legal that is. But I’m also not sure if the legality of forcing all students to repeat a year if one student fails so I suppose that’s on track. I get they need to raise the stakes and give Hazel motive to undo the wish but it’s just. Well weirdly done for me.

Father Time has a boss? Wait Nick of time? Is she his boss? That doesn’t make much sense but who is the boss? I thought the point was Father Time was the ultimate timekeeper? How does New York minutes move faster than regular? I’m so confused about this.

Most head of her time? And mean. Not sure where that one came from lolz.

To help tighten up the script a little and to more organically bring in Father Time I would have had Hazel right off the bat with for her fifteen minutes of fame instead of Cosmo and Wanda changing it on their own. They’ve dealt with Father Time before and should know he’d get involved so having Hazel right off the bat wish for the fifteen minutes herself would fix that issue. Again I appreciate taking a different spin on Timmy’s wishes but for me I think the minor changes would help a lot to make it flow better.

Still not a deal breaker though just something to help out. I also really still don’t get the New York Minute thing. Is it a commentary on the fast pace of New York? Cuz other places are like that too LA coming to mind. Unless I’m missing something which isn’t entirely out of the question. The song was fun though. Onto episode 7!

[adultswim2021]

Aqua Teen Hunger Force #93: “A PE Christmas” | December 13, 2009 - 11:45PM | S08E01 regular series version aired March 15, 2010 @ 12:00AM

It’s the Aqua Teen Christmas episode, in which Shake and Meatwad steal Public Enemy’s identity and try to cut a rap record to sell on Christmas. It’s a pretty bad plan because they record it on Christmas eve and Shake sorta just believes the CD will appear in stores on Christmas day. The stores aren’t even open on Christmas day!! SHAKE COME ON! 

Mostly this one just consists of two scenes: one where the Aqua Teens attend Christmas mass and Shake acts childish. There’s a nice crowd scene filled with people from previous episodes, and for some reason the monsters are all sitting on the opposite side of the room. You hate to see a segregated church on Christmas. Then there’s the scene in the recording studio, with Shake and Meatwad coming up with bad ideas and recording them. The gag at the end of this, where Shake takes a big shit and it winds up on Meatwad’s track for Silent Night, is pretty low-brow, but it’s maybe the funniest thing in the episode. I don’t want to like it, I’m not about that life. 

This episode featured a bit of a twist where it turns out that Shake was filled with eels, hence his violent butthole outbursts. The original broadcast of this ended with Shake in jail, because he broke into a Better Buy store to see how his record was selling. He gets exploded to death after a bunch of eels burst out of him. When this episode aired as part of season seven, they added an ending that sorta explains that the Eels belonged to Chuck D (flagrantly misidentified as Flava Flav on the ATHF wiki). 

This one’s pretty lame, TBH. There were things in it I liked, but the best thing being a poo poo joke really should sum it all up. It also mildly perturbed me that this one airs between the live-action episode and the official season premiere “Rabbot Redux” which includes some continuity, so I numbered it according to the in-season air order. It also airs in some fucked up order on DVD! I don’t know why! I don’t know why they do that! 

Oh yeah I also liked the part where Shake rudely bangs on the glass in the recording studio. Pretty funny.

EPHEMERA CORNER: 

15th Annual Holiday Content Marathon (December 18, 2009)

An evening of Christmas specials. Also scheduled was “Gary’s Posse”, a promo that aired for a show that didn’t actually exist; in fact, I forgot all about this. Gary’s Posse was put on the schedule for AM this evening, but it was just a repeat of King of the Hill. Swimpedia (where I got this and nearly all of my scheduling information from) uncovered the fact that this is actually just stock footage from Julien Tromeur called "Afraid of your sexual fantasies." The promo advertising Gary’s Posse was just a gag. 

10:00/2:00 King of the Hill: Livin' on Reds, Vitamin C and Propane (Schedule Promo Falsely Announced Gary's Posse at 2:00 AM)

10:30/2:30 King of the Hill: 'Twas the Nut Before Christmas

11:00/3:00 Robot Chicken: Dear Consumer

11:15/3:15 The Venture Bros.: A Very Venture Christmas

11:30/3:30 American Dad!: The Best Christmas Story Never

12:00/4:00 Aqua Teen Hunger Force: Cybernetic Ghost of Christmas Past from the Future

12:15/4:15 Aqua Teen Hunger Force: T-Shirt of the Dead

12:30/4:30 Moral Orel: The Best Christmas Ever!

12:45/4:45 Moral Orel: Honor

1:00/5:00 Baby Blues: A Baby Blues Christmas Special

1:30 Tom Goes to the Mayor: Rats Off to Ya!

1:45 Sealab 2021: Feast of Alvis

5:30 Home Movies: The Adventures of Cho & Amy Lee

MAIL BAG

KON writes:

Worth noting about THE VENTURE BROS S04E07 "THE BETTER MAN"... it features the use of the Dana Snyder character completely unironically going "sooo... that happened." Granted this was right before that became the exclusive domain of MCU-type dialogue, but it still hit my ear about as harshly as any Bush-era slur. Nasty!

OH YEAH! I think I made note of that but for some reason it didn't make my write-up. i couldn't tell if that was bad writing or if that was an intentional character thing, but usually characters call each other out for saying stuff like that. So, that happened.

[m1ckeyb3rry]

SHSHSHS HONORARY MUTUAL SHUT UP IM SO HONORED!!!! Also @/i-am-so-strange you’re too kind!!!!! Hsjshsjs always happy to provide more bllk content hehe but also thank YOU for supplying us with that glorious art I really got a kick out of seeing that LMAO I’m ngl stressing hiori is one of my favorites HAHAHA

BRO I LOST IT AT THE YUKI MARIOKART!!! We’re literally being stalked it’s insane….yes Reddit is definitely….a place…..honestly I only really use it when I wanna see non bot reviews for things and occasional bllk news because there’s usually at least one chronically online member active whos posting the latest stuff….

LMAOOOO NO ITS SO FUNNY HAHSGSHAAH ok but that makes more sense I feel like it’d be hard to expand too much on a request like that!! I love how it coincidentally lined up with Isagi being difficult/not as interesting to write about though LMAO

Wait that’s a good point HAHAHA maybe your inner tabieitaken agenda seeped out and you attracted side character enjoyers (me)……is that a sign to slide in secondary main character thoughts /j that is pretty hilarious though……I mean granted I also contributed to the hiori pile a bit when I sent in that like…(wanted to put this note in here that I straight up FORGOT what I wrote omg let’s see how long it takes me to scroll and find that ask I could’ve sworn I wrote it down somewhere but the fact that I don’t remember exactly what I wrote down is kinda embarrassing LMAO)

LMAOOO no because I love the idea of building up ego nation and just leaving like idk those cheesy stories where the lore is like yeah our great founders/creators one day disappeared HAHAHAHAAH I forgot that the man canonically doesn’t do laundry or cook decent food so that’s true too I’m here for the long ride though if you do end up writing that at some point then we can truly become the fake ego nationals LMAOO

MEGUMI I love megumi too omg bruh the recent events in jjk are really not good for the soul someone bring back megumi and his shadow animals :( Ah yes very brief Yuta interlude LMAOO (pi slapped so hard) also SHDJSH GET OUT SHIN AHS MY FAV TOO I also really liked Kija too!! I’m still sad that they didn’t continue with the anime though I heard it’s because it was just promo for the manga? Man. Ok but being converted by content is a little too real it happens to me too often….you know what’s funny. I saw a tiktok roasting Karasu for being number 3 and then like disappearing and I remember saying to my friend “yikes I don’t even like Karasu but why’d they do him so dirty” haha. Ha. I have no idea how it spiraled from there but it was quite literally shortly after that moment. But yeah I’ve definitely been converted by a good edit or piece of art! I’m pretty certain I started liking chigiri after seeing some fanart someone showed me LMAO

No I have full faith in you….you’re cooking in Michelin chef mode…so take your time LMAOOO it really does make me realize yet again that no one is serving Karasu nation like you s2 bring my man some justice….ok genuinely crazy has me really curious like if we’re talking genuinely crazy via Mira standards I’m eyeballing something around 30k (don’t say anything to this LMFAO)

WHEN I TELL YOU I LAUGHED SO HARD “I’d stay downstairs when my brother has friends over” IS SO FUNNY??? I’m actually crying but also agree!! I usually don’t watch as much slice of life to begin with so

the oikawa thing is actually so funny as a running joke now but I think (I’m also not a hardcore hq fan nor have I dipped my toes in the hq circles on social media) it stemmed from people actually thinking oikawa was really mean…? Maybe?? But if that was the case I’m like…..he seems pretty regular to me….seeing people put him next to like Sukuna and Kenjaku though is so hilarious LMAOOO

“#unfortunately idt I am built for the sports manga/anime life” AHAHABAAHHAAHAH you really were in for it LMFAOOOO

The soccer dudebro side of the fandom…ah yes….you know sometimes I forget dudebros actually watch and then I’m painfully reminded by some power scaling tiktok…this is also oddly specific but I remember seeing Maddie on tiktok talk about how she traded some blind bag keychain pull with a dudebro and gave her Kunigami to him for nagi or Reo or some Nagi Reo combo keychain and I really thought to myself like wait dude bros watch and buy merch?? Then I realize it makes sense that he wanted Kunigami LOL

HAHA Honesty translating is so fun and gives me more opportunities to use the target language too so I got you!!! <3 Classic Otoya activities indeed….CHATTER X CHATTER CHEMICAL REACTION IS CRAZY guys we are devouring bllk itself we devoured kaneshiro now he’s gotta give us his seat as bllk creator!!!!!! And also ok good I’m glad LOL I didn’t want to be like rapid fire pinging your inbox and messing up anything HAHAH

Oh…omg…….wait I hope that all worked out ok for you because omg….yeah that’s so awkward and honestly sounds like a nightmare…..hoping you get some platonic male irls too!!! Maybe you just have too much rizz LMFAO well….at least you didn’t find out during the actually dinner ig!

-Karasu anon

LMAOOO idk if i follow you or not but trust i would if i don’t…you’re like one of my tumblr besties atp HAHAHA one of my elite employees 🫡 and YES that art cracked me up poor hiori was struggling

to be honest if i’m looking smth up or i have a question i always go straight to the reddit results…truly it’s the best place for research questions because you can tell by upvotes how accurate smth is and especially if you’re looking for an answer about the contemporary world it’s better to get answers from people who live that experience vs study it!! so i can never be a full reddit hater even if some sections of the community are horrific

HAHAH i think a more focused prompt like that might’ve made me struggle for ANY character but yeah it coinciding w isagi definitely made me do a double take…although i would def write for him again if anyone else ever requested for him LMAOO i just wouldn’t seek out writing him on my own the way i do w tabieita and nagi

LMAOOO i give off a general aura of side character enjoyment 😩🙏🏻 that was back when my blog was only nagi themed too and he’s pretty popular so i’m surprised i didn’t get more reqs for him too!! you can always slide secondary main character thoughts my way 😋😏 but yeah i just found it funny that i’ve gotten more reqs for karasu than literally any other character…maybe too it’s because once i wrote for a side character the people who are into more random characters realized i would write for them and came to req?? vs people who like more popular characters have a wide range of people they can req/read from so they might not even see my blog in the results compared to me being one of very few authors who writes longer fics in the hiori/karasu/otoya/etc tags…idk if that makes sense but it could be one explanation

no because idk if you saw the vol30 color spread with the coaches but why is ego looking lowkey kinda…like sure i’ll join ego nation myself if i must HFJDDNJSSN

OMG YONA OF THE DAWN FAN???? you are officially my fav person ever I LOVEEEE YONA OF THE DAWN I CANNOT BELIEVE YOU ALSO LIKE SHINAH BCKDNFJSDJDMSN WHY ARE WE THE SAME PERSON 😭😭😭 he’s my fav ever omg…besides him i rlly liked hak and soowon 😓 but shinah is my number one my bae my man 👹 forever hoping for a reboot of the show because from what i’ve heard the manga is sooo good and yona is such a well written fmc!! i need them to get mappa level animation and finish the whole show 😔 i’m surprised they haven’t yet it’s one of the most popular mangas i’ve heard?? i know SOOO many people would watch it if it came out plus it would appeal to such a broad audience because it truly has everything 😩 okay sorry for the brief rant i just love yona of the dawn i wish the fandom wasn’t NONEXISTENT because it has so much potential for fics art and analysis!!

i’ve learned to never say i don’t like a character because almost immediately after i WILL fall in love with them!! idek how i started liking karasu because after season one i could not tell you who karasu otoya or any of the others were (i did remember liking yukimiya though)…after i finished the show i was SET on not reading the manga because i thought it wouldn’t be as fun as watching it animated but the same mutual who convinced me to watch the show told me to read the manga and eventually i caved 😩 and that was when i was like “ok lowkey why is karasu so fine…” but it wasn’t until i took a break halfway through third selection to read epinagi that i really became a FAN 🤔 at least i think that’s how it happened HFJDJSN i don’t remember it as well as i remember becoming a fan of nagi (didn’t gaf abt him until i realized i was lowkey giggling at his scenes in team z vs team v…tried to hold out as a rin fan throughout second selection but it was impossible and then i was the number one nagi fan before i knew it)

i will not comment on your prediction 🤐 but michelin star meal OMG i can only hope it’s that good…truly i am doing what i can for karasu nation 😭🙏🏻 laying a foundation for those to come after me (aka his fandom which will surely grow after s2) 🤞🏻 i wonder what his fanon version will look like actually 🤔 are we going to get fboy tabito??? hopefully not because aiku and otoya are right there but bby karasu is a sarcastic dark haired handsome asshole who’s secretly a sweetheart so i do fear he’s going to be bastardized a la the itoshis a bit 😔 at least i can imagine him being flirty even if i do think he’s too much of a loser and undercover loverboy to ever sleep around or anything

i guess by slice of life/chill anime standards oikawa might seem mean?? like he’s nothing compared to sukuna/kenjaku or even kaiser but in comparison to others in the show he might be ruder hence the general perception of him being as such…no idea though 😩 i agree it is funny seeing him in the top villain compilations

LMAOOO I HAD NO IDEA WHAT WAS GOING TO HAPPEN TO ME TRULY now i’m in so deep but like i love it…the bllk community on tumblr is also rlly fun and i’ve made so many mutuals/friends because of being active in the fandom which has been awesome!! no regrets for sure

PLEASEEE the dudebros are awful but also hilarious to me like lowkey i love them because they simply are so unreal like NO ONE irl talks like that 😭 one time i commented on a bllk dudebro’s tik tok and my comment was the only one he responded to despite how many of his fellow dudebros also commented…tell me that was the most interaction you’ve had w a woman in weeks without telling me 😓 but also omg the chokehold that kunigami and barou have on dudebros HAHAH i’m always scared to say i like barou because i need to specify it’s NOT in a dudebro way it’s in a “he’s my housewife and i love him very much” way

PLS WE DEVOURED KANESHIRO FR entering destroyer mode now…watch out the tongue’s abt to make an appearance 😩

unfortunately i have a lot of accidental rizz 😔 one time i actually didn’t realize i was on a date (i thought it was a family hangout) until the guy’s mom told us she was leaving so she didn’t third wheel us and then i had to pretend i had a boyfriend so i could escape 😭 that was a crazy day because that guy knew i was in love with his best friend?? so idk what he thought he was doing there…anyways this time i just pretended like my father wasn’t allowing me to hangout with anyone so i got out of it 😪 unfortunately no matter how hard i try to have male friends irl it inevitably ends up with them asking me out and me saying no 💔 one day it will be different i hope 😩

[writebackatya]

3. The best character you’ve written for

Della. Your love of her character absolutely shows in how you write her. She’s hilarious, snarky, and caring at the same time. She’s an absolute ball to read when you write her.

6. Something I remember vividly from reading one of your fics

When Dewey accidentally got high on pot brownies when he met his Great Aunt Matilda in the 1960s.

10. A character/ship I didn't enjoy/think about as much before you wrote about them

Jane. In the grand scheme of things, she’s a relatively minor character, but at the same time, she has such an interesting relationship with both Louie and Webby. And she’s so relatable, in that she’s just a regular Joe, trying to get by by working at a children’s entertainment center. And just how you write her in general is so interesting!

3. Thank you! Della is always a blast to write for! Even when her role is smaller in an overall story I still like to think she makes a big impression. Especially when I not so subtlety let the reader know, “Yeah. Della is in this story!” like in this one where Della was basically given the role of “supportive soccer mom”

If I have an excuse to include Della in a story I will. If she has no story purpose reason to be in a story, I’ll probably just have a character mention her

Yeah I definitely don’t play favorites

And I’m glad I know at least one person out there enjoys how I capture! I remember early on when I started I writing I had a worry that my readers would get sick of me writing stuff around Della Duck and so far no complaints!

6. Oh my god! Thanks! I had a lot of fun writing that but I wasn’t sure if people would think it was as funny as I thought it was or they thought I was a messed up individual for writing this kid eating not one, but TWO pot brownies that a family member gave him. (Granted, neither knew they were related to one another but, still)

But at the same time…how could I NOT do a story about Dewey getting high during the events of Timephoon!?!

Timephoon! fics are always so fixated on that one scene when other characters were going through some stuff in that episode too. Well everybody but Dewey and Webby! They were having a fun play date with Bubba and got to eat chili dogs! And then they fought pirates! And went back in time to the 1960s and dressed up like hippies! Talk about a fun day!

I remember when I was writing it I was back and forth with whether or not I wanted Webby to eat a brownie. Glad I didn’t, I have something far more sinister planned for her in the next story which I had planned long before I even wrote Dewey eating that pot brownie

Also. Matilda definitely made edibles and was a hippie during the 60s.

10. Oh Jane, I’m gonna do whatever I can to make more people in the fandom realize you’re great! Because she is! So far I think I only have her in two of my stories. Indi-Quack!’s F.O.W.L Play! where she vents to Gandra about her job (because she deserves to, damn it!) and Up, Up, and Away! where she is on the clock and getting paid time and half to be in the Funso’s ad

I just think she’s the type of person that would be on the good side of everyone in McDuck Family. Besides Louie and Webby, I like to think she’s chill with all the kids.

Also I’m sure Jane has stories about working with Magica that she could share with Lena

I don’t have a whole lot of other stuff planned for Jane. She has a small role in my Iron Duck of Steel story and will definitely appear throughout the story (such acting as sort of a bartender to two characters later on in the story when they’re at a low point in their lives)

And I do have another idea for a story that will take place at Funso’s that I really wanna do. Basically as a way to combat the public finding out about FOWL operating underneath them, Funso’s starts doing adult nights where it basically becomes a Dave and Buster’s because alcohol makes arcades sooooo much better

[thisis-an-original-name]

y’all really took Umbrella Academy season 2 for granted and I bet you’re regretting it now that we’ve all lived through the clusterfuck that was season 3

Luther was smack in the middle of a realistic and well written “redemption” arc (redemption in quotes because he was never really a villain in the first place). The Allison/Luther bullshit was firmly behind us and we got to see him FINALLY being pissed at Reggie which was so satisfying.

We got to see Diego’s softer side in his relationship with Lila but we also got to see him being a capable badass at the Commission. And the HAIR. 🥵🥵🤯🥹

God I miss season 2 Allison. I miss her so much. She deserves to have a wholesome, supportive relationship and the character development of her living a life that she EARNED was so satisfying. I still wish we’d gotten to see the aftermath of her injury a little more but it was nice to watch the flashback where she and Ray fell in love. (Raymond Chestnut my beloved you will always be famous)

I know we all like to clown on Klaus’ cult storyline and how dismissive he was of Ben but I see Season 2 Klaus as a necessary waypoint for him to get to a better, more well adjusted place. Recovery isn’t linear and I think Klaus did need to hit a few more rock bottoms before he got there. He was also such a sympathetic character, dealing with loss and the long avoided consequences of his actions. And yeah, the Ben/Klaus beef came kinda out of nowhere but it was realistic for Ben to start to resent Klaus after 15 years of putting up with his bullshit nonstop. At least it was more realistic than whatever happened with Viktor and Allison in S3.

Five was just Five. He’s always Five. But I feel like he was peak Five in season 2. The paradox psychosis episode? His conflict with Viktor? The Five-Luther-Elliot-Diego-Lila bonding time? We got to see him be closed off and hyper focused but somehow still bonding with his siblings.

Ben 🥺 Ben 😢 Benjamin Jessica Hargreeves 😔 I miss you so much you were so kind and loyal and supportive and sassy and hot and I don’t understand why they brought you back if you were just going to be a shell of your regular self. we love you we miss you thank you for your sacrifice.

And don’t even get me started on Season 2 Viktor. God, what a badass. I think giving him temporary amnesia was a really good choice because he got to be free from the anxiety and guilt of everything that had happened at the Academy. And then we got to watch him evolve into the badass that he is and give the middle finger to token homophobe Carl and the entire FBI. Sexy of him.

And the new characters????? Listen Sloane is cool and all but she will never be Lila or Sissy or Ray. Also cutting The Handler was a shitty decision. She was such a good villain and I miss her.

It’s also funny to me that S2’s definition of family bonding was the salon scene and S3’s definition was Klaus getting thrown into traffic by his abusive father.

And the aesthetic was so good?? It was bright and colorful but still felt like The Umbrella Academy, which I’m sorry but season 3 did not.

Anyway thank you for letting me scream into the void. I’m gonna go rewatch season 2 and pretend that season 3 had no impact on canon. Hargreeves Siblings I love you all and I’m sorry they replaced you all with inconsistent cardboard cutouts. Goodnight and god bless.

[grazer-razor]

the funny part is,

most of undertale is PG. granted, flowey’s first appearance might catch players off-guard, but it’s still very PG. the “suggestive humor” is also relatively PG, and the alcohol/tobacco references are PG(burgerpants is just smoking a cig because oh cool emoji, and the dog treats are parodying cigs as well. either way, it’s all for shiggles), as is the language.

i’d even say that even omega flowey is PG, as well- aside from the flashing faces on the monitor, omega flowey’s appearance is like a pikmin monster. to me, it’s one of those things that derives it’s scariness from unexpected chaos, and not, well, actual scariness. and let’s be real. flowey destroying your save file and fighting you is no different than perfect chaos destroying station square and facing off against sonic.

even genocide run is relatively PG. yeah, you’re killing an entire race of monsters, but it feels more glum than nightmarish. mostly it’s just the game shaming you for killing all of the monsters through the rest of the monsters’ actions. heck, even the original T rating didn’t have a regular “blood”, “animated blood”, or “blood and gore” descriptor(i know this because a rating’s descriptors are in alphabetical order, and “fantasy violence” was the first descriptor).

and let’s be real here. sans’ blood is KETCHUP. 

and the true lab is PG, as well. aside from certain aspects that we’ll get to later, most of the amalgamates are these strange-looking monsters. E10 games aren’t really any stranger to containing somewhat scary things- mario odyssey is a good example.

however, there are some aspects of undertale that aren’t as PG. as previously mentioned, there are the flashing faces, and the face flowey made as he absorbed the chaos emeralds infinity stones pure hearts human souls. and there’s the end of the genocide run, where flowey is repeatedly hacked in half. and then there’s the time reaper bird forced a bunch of moths to eat everyman’s head.

but the most problematic part of undertale might be the storyline. not as much the fact that asgore has been killing humans to try and find a way out of the underground, as much as the fact that THERE ARE LITERALLY 4 SUICIDES IN THE GAME’S TIMELINES.

in the end, undertale is one of those games that somehow manages to be equal parts PG and T at the same time. and as a result, i’m not so sure what to rate it. do we rate it E10 because that’s what the game is like most of the time, or do we rate it T because that’s the extent of the inappropriate content, even though it comprises a small amount of the game?

honestly, rating it T is overkill, and rating it E10 is underkill. truly, undertale is one of the hardest-to-rate games of all time.

[genshinlover101]

May I request anything with Jean, Kaeya, Diluc, and Eula noticing their s/o slowly but surely feeling safe and comfortable in their own skin/around others and not always on high alert all the time?

Like the characters have never really heard it coming out of their s/o's mouth but just based on the body language and the calculated/hypervigilant attitude towards everything, they can tell that reader has had a life that revolved around fighting/violence/killing and has never truly come out of that fight or flight headspace.

So what would be their reaction to seeing their usually closed off s/o, just come to a revelation that they can just,,,be, without feeling like they're in danger? S/o isn't as tense when being held and allows themselves to melt against them,,,just allowing themselves vulnerability that has been denied for so long

Closed Off S/O Unwinding Around Them

Characters: Jean, Kaeya, Diluc, Eula x gn!reader

Warnings: none

A/n: this idea is so cute 🥺 I feel like it’ll fit even more with Diluc cause of his backstory

I am also ashamed to say that Diluc is my main dps on my team currently while I’m still building Miko and I know nothing of his character :,) 

• You’ve always been uptight, on guard, and stern. Jean understood the initial anxiety that came from your trauma, but 24/7 was something she couldn’t stand by. It might be hypocritical, but Jean would try and convince you to relax.

• As if it were magic, one day her wish was granted. You slowly began to calm yourself around her. Not overreacting to small noises or mishaps anymore, simply ignoring them around her as if you were suddenly at peace.

You sat on the sofa with her, your body normally sitting up straight, arms folded as you used all five senses to keep your guard up. Jean sat beside you, her posture in a similar stance but more relaxed, a cup of coffee brewed by Lisa in one hand and a newspaper in the other. She looked at you like she was observing a meerkat scouting for predators.

She leaned over to place her mug on the wooden coffee table, only to reach to your shoulder and rub it slightly. Your attention shifting from one source to Jean. “You should rest honey. The weather is fine out today, there’s no threat to Mondstadt looming over us anymore, relax,” she told you.

You took a deep breath, thinking a moment or two before weighing your options. Jean was not wrong, Mondstadt seemed to be safe in the hands of the Knights of Favonius, it was a moment of peace. Resting now wouldn’t hurt a fly. You began to slouch, your eyes feeling heavy. “Don’t mind if I rest here then,” you mumbled.

Earning a smile from Jean the woman grabbed your head with her empty arm, letting you rest on her chest as you both slouched on the couch together. Her fingers stringing through your hair, her nails scratching the best parts to lull you into a perfect sleep. Continuing to read her newspaper she planted a small kiss on your forehead. “Rest for as long as you need, I’ll protect you this time.”

• Kaeya’s carefree attitude towards everything was always a fresh breath of air. But for you it wasn’t, you still felt danger behind every corner. It turned into a game for him, trying to get you to relax even if it meant neglecting his own duties. 

• Once you started to crack, the young man would immediately take advantage. Inviting you to a drink with him, giving you a small back massage, overjoyed that you gave him the slightest space within your personal bubble.  

Kaeya sat at the bar, some regulars nearby that he recognized as he made small talk with them. You sat up straight, your arms folded, and your head held high. You felt like an accessory for Kaeya, sitting there to look all nice and dainty for him, your guard up in case anyone decided to try some funny business. 

It wasn’t until his conversations got dry that his attention divided to you, sipping from his beer he side-eyed you. “Have a drink once and a while, it’s on me?” He tried offering you. Pushing his own drink towards you for a sip. When you didn’t give a reaction or even a turning of your head, he frowned. “Sheesh you’re a tough one. I’ll even order your own- then you’ll have to drink it.”

With a smirk he stuck his hand up to call the bartender, sliding his regular order. “Here taste this, it’ll change your life,” he passed you your own cup. Looking at it hesitantly, your brows raising in suspicion. “Pfft, suit yourself... more for me then.” he shrugged your behavior off. One day or another he was going to get you.

His welcoming atmosphere gave you a sense of belonging. He always invited you out to drink with him but never had you felt like you were supposed to be there. Your guard always up in case an argument or fight broke out like always. But today felt different, lowering your posture you reached for the mug that he had taken back. Taking a slight sip, Kaeya smirked from his cup as he saw you from his peripheral. “Good, right?” he asked you.

• When Diluc was younger he knew what it felt like to be in the pit of danger at any moment. To never let your guard down and sleep with one eye open is how he lived. But when in the safety of the City of Mondstadt he would advise you to take a short break, relax, have a drink. 

• It didn’t take you long to feel safe around the man, even though he didn’t drink with you, his drinks had the skill to lull you in a state of relaxation. Even though he had many secrets, you always felt safe around him as you knew no one could stand against him. 

Diluc stood behind the bar, wiping a clear glass with a white cloth napkin till it was spotless. The young man stood poised, since it was 3:00 pm, the night rush had yet to come. You sat at the bar, looking left and right at the few customers who decided to come quite early. Ensuring they wouldn’t sabotage or try anything suspicious. 

Diluc would occasionally open one eye to check up on you. Although he was the silent type, he still wanted to make sure you were okay in his own little way. Making sure you didn’t get bored as he carried out his afternoon chores that he assigned himself. Your stiff posture made him cringe, some time had passed and you remained in the same stance.

Using one of the glasses he had just shined to perfection to pour some juice, “I know your distaste in alcohol, besides it’s the afternoon. Unwind a bit, It’s my job to ensure this environment is safe, not yours.” You caught the glass, your reflection shining from the apple juice. Looking at your eyebags and your dark circles you decided maybe it was a good idea to give your body a rest.

Besides, Diluc was tall, handsome, strong and one of Mondstadts most revered. There wasn’t much he couldn’t handle, maybe he didn’t need another pair of eyes to watch for him. Yawning you took a sip of the drink he poured. he might’ve been harsh and rigid, but he definitely knew how to calm one’s mind. Your sudden drowsiness making him feel pride in his actions.

• Eula knew why you’d have such a hyper fixation on danger. She’s been subjected to prejudice from hilichurls and citizens of Mondstadt alike. But unlike her, you never rested.

• She would urge you to rest by trying to find little hints she could throw at you to take a nap or to relax your muscles. One day however, she found it to be working even without her ushering you to.

One fateful evening Eula had invited you out to eat at Good Hunter for the afternoon. She always took Amber out for the same treatment, finding that around the young girl her mind was always clear and relaxed despite how poorly her day was going. She had high hopes that it would have the same effect on you. 

You poked at your food with your utensils, looking at it intently to ensure it wasn’t poisoned or tampered with. For some reason, you never trusted food unless it was cooked by yourself, Eula always finding that habit of yours strange. However, instead of five minutes of lingering, after a couple of pokes, you decided to dive in. Quickly devouring the mouth-watering scent that the food gave off. “Were you hungry? You seem to be enjoying your food a little much,” Eula commented.

Around Eula you felt relaxed, the woman had been making more frequent appearances in your life. Each time you hung out with her you found yourself unintentionally dropping habits that you had developed over time. Feeling safer around her each time you saw the young maiden's face.

“If you’re still hungry, we can order dessert,” Eula insisted. Your face lit up to her surprise. To so suddenly witness such a childish reaction from someone as cautious and mature as you made her heart skip a beat. A light blush on her face as she tried to hide it with her handkerchief  “I’ll treat you to as many dishes as your heart desires,” she said impulsively. 

[mrsalwayswrite]

The Arrangement (Ivar x reader x Hvitserk)

Oh boy, so I don’t normally write smut but this idea came to me and would not let me write anything else. So here we are, friends. (I’m honestly so nervous to post this.)

A huge shout out to @geekandbooknerd for beta-reading this for me and listening to my ranting. You are the best, you beautiful person!

Warnings: SMUT, some feels, Ivar being Ivar 

Words: 5200

Tag List: @youbloodymadgenius​

 The fierce, blue eyes of Kattegat's king surveyed the Great Hall, full of people as they ate the evening meal.  Jovial conversations, yells for more ale, the pop and crackle of the large fire, even the fist fight that broke out…. none of it attracted his attention. No, instead his clever mind wrestled with one simple problem. Something he was certain no other man ever had to worry about. This problem had lately been at the forefront of his mind, slithering through his thoughts like vipers, distracting him from his duties. Weeks now he mentally wrestled with seeking a solution. Wracking his brain as what to do. He even considered going to the Seer, but quickly rejected that idea. The Seer only ever spoke in riddles and it would only further muddle his already troubled mind. He cursed the gods with his lack of a solution, for putting him in this predicament. 

 But this morning as he lay in bed, willing the pain in his legs to diminish, a solution came to mind. It was so simple, something he should have considered long ago…. but one that required trust. Something which admittedly was not his strongest suit. But for this solution to work, to gain what he yearned for, he must trust. There was no other way. It was like the gods came to him, spoke into his mind during his slumber, explaining what he must do. Though he trusted no one completely, there was one who he could trust with this solution. And the rewards…. oh, the rewards would be well worth it. 

 Besides, it could be fun. 

He observed where his brother sat at a nearby table, talking and laughing with some of their warriors. A broad grin lit up his face as he freely drank and shared stories. Although Hvitserk seemed to be fully invested in the conversation around him, from where Ivar reclined on his throne, he could see the way his brother's gaze darted frequently to another table nearby. Quick looks, never lingering, almost indiscernible from how his gaze shifted to his companions around him. But Ivar could see it. Many times he had witnessed his brother's secret looks. Now was the time to test it. 

 With a sharp order, Ivar sent a nearby thrall to summon the other Ragnarsson. Hvitserk glanced at Ivar with a confused expression before giving a single nod. As he rose from his spot at the tables, Ivar had a nearby thrall fill up his ale horn, eyes shifting from his brother to the one who continued to unknowingly entice the elder Ragnarsson. When Hvitserk stood at the bottom of the dais, leading up to the thrones, Ivar waved his hand, signaling for his brother to sit on the throne next to him. The Queen's throne. Your throne. 

 Surprise flashed across the face of the flaxen-haired Ragnarsson, eyes darting between the two thrones for a moment in surprise. Ivar wondered if thoughts of their beautiful mother crossed his brother's mind as he saw the throne as often as they did his own. After a second, Hvitserk shrugged and seated himself on the other throne. Silence persisted as they nursed their ales. 

 Looking over the crowd, Ivar returned his gaze to the one person who, beside his mother, he was most devoted to. You were smiling in a way that made his heart clench and his lips twitch, wanting to mirror your joy. He never understood your need to mingle with others during meals instead of remaining on your throne. At times, jealousy reared its head in his mind, but you always returned to his side, to his bed, sharing the latest gossip you heard or a particularly funny story. He would grumble but never admit how he enjoyed listening to you, or how he used that gossip to his benefit. 

 Now you sat with a few women he recognized as wives to wealthy traders in Kattegat. A baby lay in your arms as you spoke with enthusiasm to one of the women. With the light from the flames dancing across your face and the joy radiating from you as you cooed at the baby in your arms, Ivar knew there was no one as beautiful as you. Even more so than his mother. Every day he still found himself in awe that you chose him, you agreed to be his wife, that you loved him. It was enough to make him feel invincible. To conquer the world and lay it at your feet as an offering. 

 Without moving his head, Ivar peeked over at his brother, unsurprised to see him staring in the same direction. The horn of ale at his lips helped mask where his lingering gaze lay, but Ivar could see. He knew. 

 "I see how you look at her." Ivar said nonchalantly. 

 "Who?" Hvitserk questioned, eyes pretending to roam over the Great Hall. 

 Ivar smirked, fingers lightly tapping on the armrest of his throne. "My queen…. y/n."

 "She is a beautiful woman. Is it wrong now to admire someone so clearly blessed by Freyja?"

 "Ah, but I see your mind. You want to do more than admire, dear brother."

 Hvitserk shifted uncomfortably, head snapping to the side to eye his younger brother warily. "What is this, Ivar?"

 The young king leaned back, smirk still in place. After a tense moment of watching Hvitserk squirm, he dropped his voice so he knew only his brother could hear him. "I have a proposition for you."

 "What?"

 "I need your help with a…. sensitive matter."

 The flaxen-haired Ragnarsson scoffed. "Is this Ivar the Boneless actually asking for help?" 

 "Will you help me or not?" He sharply retorted, trying to force down the rising anger that bubbled under his skin. 

 "Of course." He said with a sigh. "What is it?"

 Ivar pushed off his throne, tossing back the rest of his ale and handing his horn off to a nearby thrall. "Come. We will discuss this in my bedroom." 

 He did not wait for his brother, already leaning on his crutch as he walked down the steps and down the corridor to the royal rooms. He hoped his plan worked. He needed it to work. Even if it meant trusting his brother with what was most precious to him. 

 *****

 Your steps were sure as you left the Great Hall and walked down the corridor to your bedroom. You had seen Ivar and Hvitserk leave the evening meal some time ago, but assumed they went to discuss important matters somewhere quiet. So, you stayed to talk with your friends, something you cherished. It was important to you that even though you were their queen, they could be comfortable in your presence and feel free to speak to you. Plus, you enjoyed the juicy gossip passed around. 

 One of the guards opened the bedroom door for you. You nodded a brief thanks and walked in…. only for your feet to stutter to a stop after you entered. Surprise flooded you to see your husband and his older brother both in your bedroom. Ivar reclined on his favorite, wide chair near the lit fireplace but what was most perplexing was how Hvitserk sat on the end of your bed, elbows on his knees with a guarded expression. 

 "My wife will not be needing your assistance tonight." Ivar stated to the thrall who had followed you into the room. "You may leave us….and inform the guards we do not wish to be disturbed for any reason."

 The thrall glanced over to you, since she was yours. The routine of helping you undress and prepare for bed, a regular occurrence most nights. At your murmured acceptance, she nodded her head and left, closing the door behind her. 

 "Is everything alright, Ivar? Have you heard something from your spies?" You quickly asked once the three of you were alone. Worry gnawed in your stomach. He had confessed to you late one night that there was a nearby earl he thought might try to attack and overtake Kattegat. 

 "Come here, my love." He held his leather-clad hand out for you to take, something you did without question. He guided you to stand between his open, brace-covered legs. With his other hand, he tapped his lips, a cheeky glint in his eyes. You giggled but obliged, pressing a sweet and tender kiss to his mouth in response to his wordless demand.

 His hands on your hips, he looked up at you with devotion in those piercing blue eyes. A sight that made your heart melt every time without him even having to say a word. 

 "What is going on?"

 "You know I love you, yes?" He softly questioned, still staring up at you like you were the moon and stars. 

 You cupped his cheek, his sideburns tickling your fingers. "Of course. And I love you."

 "Mmmm…. the gods have given me wisdom as how to solve our problem."

 "Our problem?" Your brows furrowed, confused by what he was talking about. 

 He pointedly looked at your belly then back up at you. 

 Then it hit you, and your heart broke a little at the heartache in his gaze. "Oh, Ivar, I told you…."

 "It's been a year, y/n." He interrupted, the grief slipping into his voice, even as he struggled to hide it. "We've been trying for a year and there is nothing to show for it. I never thought I could pleasure a woman until you came along and I hoped…. I hoped I could give you a child. Our child. But it seems the gods still will not grant me that ability. I need an heir, and I want to see you grow round with a child. I want a family with you. Something I never dreamed of before."

 Realization dawned on you as to why Hvitserk was in your bedroom. Eyes wide, you peeked over your shoulder at the other Ragnarsson, who was staring at the ground between his feet, then looked back at your husband. 

 "Ivar…."

 "Hvitty has agreed. He will be my cock and plant a baby in you in my name."

 This time you fully turned around to stare at the flaxen-haired brother. "Hvitserk, are you sure you want to do this?" 

 Gods, this sounded like something your husband would force his brother to do. Actually, you were beyond astounded that Ivar would even let another man touch you. Before your thoughts could follow that trail, Ivar's voice brought you back. 

 He chuckled darkly, an edge to his tone like he was confessing someone else's secret. "My brother can barely keep his eyes off you whenever you are around….and when I told him my idea, he agreed without hesitation."

 You witnessed an adorable blush rise to Hvitserk's cheeks as he rubbed the back of his neck and mumbled under his breath. For a moment he looked like a young boy again, caught staring at his latest crush. It was so innocent and precious. Yet with the rumors you heard from some of the women of Kattegat, you knew he was far from innocent. There had been a handful of times you secretly noticed the Ragnarsson's heated gaze on you, but your mind played it off, thinking he must have truly been looking at someone else or he was just admiring your dress. Now your mind flipped through those memories with a different lens. 

 After giving your husband's hands a quick squeeze, you stepped out of his embrace. Heart hammering away in your chest, you watched the elder brother with a new understanding as you approached. This time you did not miss the way his eyes raked over your form or how he licked his lips almost in anticipation. The shiver that rolled down your spine startled you, but not unpleasantly so. 

 Almost in a mirror image, you stood between Hvitserk's legs, his hands automatically landing on your hips, just like how you stood with Ivar; but the way his hands felt unbound by leather and almost hesitant to touch you, was a reminder this was not your husband. After a moment, you cupped his face, his beautiful brown eyes meeting yours with such naked want in them, heat coursed through you.  

 "Are you sure, Hvitty?" You whispered.   

 "I'd be lying if I said I haven't thought about laying with you." He confessed, a naughty smirk teasing his lips. His voice stayed low as you two traded secrets. "Are you alright with this…. arrangement? I know you love my brother, and I don't want to ruin that. Not for either one of you."

 You continued to stroke his cheek as you pondered his question. There was no doubt that you loved Ivar with all your heart. He was the love of your life and you knew you were his. Hvitserk easily was the brother you always wished for. You enjoyed his flirtatious teasing, especially when it made the jealous side of your husband come out because the sex after that was always mind-blowing. The blond was someone you trusted wholeheartedly. Your life was perfect, you were happier than you ever thought you would be. But there was one thing you always imagined, one thing you silently yearned for. So it was with that in mind, your answer, your decision was an easy one to make. 

 "I want a baby."

 His smirk grew, "I'll try my best to help with that."

 You laughed. "Oh, so gracious of you."

 He winked cheekily, taking one of your hands to kiss your palm slowly. 

 You shifted to meet your husband's cool gaze, with Hvitserk's hands gently kneading your hips. "Ivar, you are certain this is what you want? This won't cause jealousy between you and your brother?"

 Ivar scoffed. "Why would it?"

 "You threatened last month to gouge a trader's eyes out for staring at y/n too long." Hvitserk deadpanned. In the next second, he leaned over to lay a kiss on your hip meanwhile, his hand shifted to grab a handful of your ass cheek. You squeaked, surprised by the bold move in front of Ivar. As you tried to wriggle away, he only chuckled and pulled you to sit directly on his lap. It should not surprise you anymore how strong Hvitserk was, but somehow it always managed to catch you off guard. Though your mind certainly took notice of the bulge in his pants underneath you. 

 "He was talking only to her breasts. He is lucky I did not take at least one eye for his disrespect." Ivar leaned back in his seat. "You agree to this, my love?"

 "I do." You answered. 

 "Excellent. Come here for a moment." He beckoned you to him once again. 

 Hvitserk released you, not before palming your ass as you stood up. You swatted at his hands, but the smile on your lips let him know you were not truly upset. 

 That smile only grew as you glided over to your husband. For all of his anger and wrath, none of it ever touched you. Instead he treated you delicately, reverently. As if you were a dream and with one wrong move, you would vanish. Or a goddess he vowed to continuously worship. You thrived under his tender touches, drawing you further and further into the ocean of his profound love. 

 He guided you to stand between his legs again and for a brief moment you felt like a ball the brothers were taking turns passing back and forth. You dashed the thought away before it made you giggle. 

 "I have one condition for our arrangement." Ivar said, intently watching your face. His finger traced the edges of your lips, as if to memorize them. "Only I own your mouth. I was your first kiss. So as I live and breathe, only I get the pleasure of your kisses. Hvitserk can kiss and touch you anywhere else but there. Agreed?"

 You nodded mutely. The growing desire in his eyes caused your womb to clench and fire to begin warming your veins. 

 "Brother?"

 "Agreed." Hvitserk said from his perch on the bed behind you, his voice sounding a bit gruffer than a minute ago. 

 Ivar turned those piercing, passionate eyes back to you. "My love…." He placed a kiss to the valley between your breasts, allowing his face to linger there a moment. You carded your fingers through his loosened hair, feeling his hands gently holding your hips. When he looked up, gone was the sweet, loving devotion in his eyes, replaced with something wicked. "Shall we teach Hvitty what you like first?"

 "What do you have in mind?"

 "Take off your dress."

 "I need help with the laces." You reminded him as he was the one to demand your thrall leave earlier. 

 "Ah, you are right. Go to Hvitserk, he will help."

 Obediently, you walked the few steps back to the elder Ragnarsson wondering what game your husband was playing, but you could not deny the excitement thrumming in your veins. Without a word, you turned around to allow him access to the lacing on the back of your dress. You thought he would hesitate or his fingers would tremble knowing your husband was watching on. Instead they deftly plucked and tugged at the laces like he had done this many times. Once your back was exposed, his hand traced down your spine, causing you to shiver under the sensual touch. 

 Holding the front of the dress to your chest, you made your way back over to Ivar. Standing in front of him, his hands claimed your fingers from holding your dress to entwine with his own. Immediately, your dress slipped down your body to pool at your feet, leaving you completely bare before the two Ragnarssons. 

 Ivar's hands landed on your hips but instead of pulling you to straddle him, like you expected, he slowly spun you around and had you sit on his lap, facing his brother. What met your gaze was the wolfish look of Hvitserk, staring at you like you were something he wanted to devour. Ivar's hands slide up from your hips to cup your breasts as if offering them to his brother. 

 "Look at you, my goddess, my wife." Ivar whispered against your skin as he left hot, open-mouth kisses along the column of your throat. You could not help but whimper, your body so in tune with his. He barely had to touch you before your body begged for him to fill you. A dampness already coated your core. Without taking his eyes off of you, his hands fondling you in the way that made you breathless, he addressed his brother. "Is she not perfect, Hvitty? A goddess begging to be worshiped."

 "Gods, yes. Perfect."

 Normally you would be embarrassed by the praises. Now though, you felt like a lamb being toyed with by two wolves. Trapped by the lustful gaze of one and the feverish touches of the other. 

 Ivar's hands continued to fondle and pluck at your nipples, causing your head to fall back onto his shoulder. "That's right, you love these perfect breasts being played with, don't you?"

 "Ivar…." His name was a needy whine coming off your tongue.

 "Yes, my love. So sensitive. Just imagine it's Hvitty's mouth on them." 

 An unexpected, wanton moan escaped you at the thought. Your hips started rolling against your husband's lap, desperate for friction. 

 "Open your eyes." Ivar whispered into your ear. "Look at Hvitty."

 You obeyed even though your body demanded to close your eyes and wallow in the pleasure Ivar could induce in you. As your gaze locked with the elder Ragnarsson, you felt one of Ivar's hands skim down your stomach to part your legs, exposing your core. 

 Instinctively, you started to close your legs only for Ivar to tsk and bite the junction of your neck and shoulder. "Don't be shy. Let him see that sweet pussy." 

 Your legs fell back open, allowing his hand free reign to touch you where you most needed it. Your body automatically arched into his hand, silently begging for more. Sweat already began to dampen you as the heat burned hotter under your skin. 

 "I swear Valhalla is between her legs, brother."

 Hvitserk spoke up, his voice coming out rough and husky. "Touch her, Ivar."

 "You hear that, y/n?" Your husband teased, licking a stripe up the column of your throat. "Should I touch you?"

 "Please." You begged, too far along to care how needy you sounded. 

 He chuckled darkly, his hand dipped to your core, cupping and teasing you. You tensed as his skilled fingers played with your folds and clit but never entering you. He could tease you for hours, leave you on the brink as you begged for relief. It was a favorite game of his. You started to grind against him, your blood boiling with desire and the need for relief. 

 Somehow, he always knew when you were close, as if it was a sixth sense. 

 "She is close, Hvitty. Her pussy is weeping to be filled." He squeezed your breast, causing you to loudly moan.

"Do you want my fingers or my cock, my queen?"

 "I want you, beloved." You answered in a breathy sigh. 

 His teasing ceased, almost making you whine. Gently, he cupped your chin, turning your head to gaze lovingly into your eyes. It always seemed to astound him that you desired him, not just physically but as a person, as a friend, as a lover and a soul mate. He pressed a sweet kiss to your lips, pouring in all of his devotion in a way you understood since words always failed him. 

 Slowly you rose to your feet but instead of walking away, you turned to face him. This was a dance the two of you had done before. Knowing what he wanted, you straddled his lap without fear of the wide chair breaking under your combined weight. This was not the first time you had made love on this particular chair by the fire. 

 Still gazing at you in awe and adoration, Ivar cupped your breasts. His thumbs teased your nipples. A low moan fell from your lips as your head tipped back. His mouth then descended on your chest, first leaving small kisses before taking one of your peaked nipples into his mouth. 

 "Ivar…." You groaned. "Yes, yes."

 In an action well practiced, you were already reaching between your bodies to fumble with the laces of his pants. Without hesitation, you sank down onto him, being filled in the best way possible. Your lips sought out his, drawing pleasure from his mouth just as much as his cock. Your tongues swirled as your hips rolled. It was delirium. This pleasure he could bring out of you. It was all-consuming. No matter how much he teased, he was always gentle and reverent when it came to worshipping you. A slow, sweet burn that sunk into every fiber of your body, called forth your very soul to dance with his, just as much as your bodies writhed together. 

 You unlocked your mouth, throwing your head back with a loud moan as your pace increased, riding his cock, seeking your peak. His growls and words of praise only spurred you on. 

 Finally it came, crashing over you, eliciting a cry of Ivar's name loud enough the guards outside the door probably heard. Three more quick thrusts and you could feel Ivar spill his empty seed inside you. His head dropped onto your chest, both of you panting and sweaty. 

 "You're mine." He murmured against your skin as if reminding himself or branding the words into your naked skin. "You're my goddess, my queen, mine."

 "Always." You whispered back. 

 After both of you came down from your erotic high, Ivar leaned up, pressing a toe-curling kiss to your already swollen lips. 

 "She's ready for you, brother." He loudly announced. 

 It was then you remembered Hvitserk in the room. So caught up in making love with your husband, you had momentarily forgotten what was to happen. You stared down at your husband, silently asking him if he was sure. 

 Ivar rolled his eyes but caressed your cheek with his calloused fingers. "It's alright. Besides, if you don't go take care of him, he'll probably blow his load in his pants soon."

 You smiled, kissing him once more before carefully rising off his lap. As you turned to look at the flaxen-haired warrior, never before had you felt the seductress until now. With your husband's seed spilling down your thigh, you slowly walked the few paces to stand in front Hvitserk. With each step closer, his ravenous gaze devoured your nakedness; a predatory look that made your thighs clench and put a quiver in your belly. 

 "How do you want me?" You softly asked, standing before him. 

 He swallowed thickly, fists clenching and releasing before he cleared his throat and answered hoarsely. "Lie down on your back."

 Embracing the inner seductress in you, you crawled across your bed, giving your husband and his brother a spectacular view of your ass. Nerves aflutter, you laid down on your large marital bed. Yet you could feel the longing ache between your legs growing the more you thought about what was to come. 

 Soon, Hvitserk hovered above you, completely naked. Although you loved your husband and his body, the sight of Hvitserk in all his glory made your mouth water and core clench in anticipation.  

 "You are the most beautiful woman I've ever seen." He confessed, barely above a whisper. "Gods…." His mouth landed on your neck, lavishing his affections using both teeth and tongue. Sweeping downward, his ministrations continued, drawing soft cries from you as he equally used his mouth and hands to caress all the curves of your body. Each touch, each caress, each bite and lick, all felt like he was trying to get himself drunk on the feel of your soft skin, your scent and the sounds of pleasure coming from you. 

 It did not take long for you to begin writhing underneath him, clawing at his back, utterly at his mercy. This desire he invoked in you was molten and drugging. Your eyelids fluttered closed as you fought to remember to breathe. 

 Pulling back slightly, he lined himself up. Then instead of gradually easing into you, he slammed into you until he was fully sheathed in your womanhood. A cry left your mouth at the same time as he groaned. You expected pain but instead your body readily welcomed the intrusion, hot and wet, waiting for him. 

 He pressed his forehead to yours, remaining frozen, giving you both time to adjust. "Gods…. this is Valhalla." He whispered with a touch of awe in his voice. 

 You rolled your hips; your body begging for more, for release, for him to bring you to new heights. "Hvitty…."

 "Say my name." He grunted, a slow thrust accompanying it. 

 "Hvitserk." 

 "Again." This thrust was a little faster and harder. 

 "Hvitserk."

 "Say it." 

 His name rolled off your tongue in a gasp as he slammed into you, stars appearing in your vision. "Hvitserk."

 As a key unlocking, your fervid gasp seemed to unleash him. In the next moment, he began thrusting with abandon, almost animalistic in his pleasurable fury. He grabbed your hips, lifting them off the bed to begin pounding into you like a man possessed. 

 Never before had Ivar done anything like this and to your surprise…. you liked it. A lot. 

 Your hands clawed at the bed, desperate for something to hold onto. Cries of pleasure flowed freely from you. An inferno lived inside of you, threatening to burn you with ecstasy. Sluggishly you opened your eyes to be met with the sight of Hvitserk cradled between your thighs, sweat glistening on his flushed skin as he rocked into you, sending jolts of electricity each time. Those brown eyes stared down at you like he wanted to own your body and soul.

 With a silent scream, your peak overwhelmed you. Your eyes slammed shut as your back arched, delicious waves of pleasure making your mind cease to function. 

 Hvitserk followed quickly, a growl splitting the air between you as his thrusts stuttered to an end and his seed filled your womb. He all but collapsed on top of you after, both for you sweaty and sated. 

 "Did I hurt you?" He asked, his voice raspy and content. His head laid on your chest, his body seeming to be the only thing to keep you from floating away on waves of bliss. 

 "No." You mumbled languishly, too pleasure-drunk to say more. 

 He tipped his head to look at you, a lazy smirk on his face. "I really want to kiss you."

 "You know the one rule." You reminded him, brushing a hand over his frazzled braids. 

 He hummed, then with a mischievous glint in his eyes, he leaned forward and licked your lips. At first you just stared as he grinned at you, but giggles soon fell from your mouth. 

 "Hvitserk! What did I say?" Ivar demanded, walking over to sit on the opposite side of the bed. 

 Hvitserk rolled his head to look at his brother, but kept it on your naked chest. "I didn't kiss her. You never said anything about not licking her lips."

 Ivar rolled his eyes, muttering under his breath, as he unstrapped his braces and flopped onto the bed. His hand reached out for you, possessively tugging you out from underneath his brother and into his side. Not that you minded. You immediately curled against him, your eyelids straining to stay open. 

 "I'm alright." You answered the question you could see lingering in his eyes. "Just sleepy now."

 He smiled fondly down at you, leaving a gentle kiss on your forehead. Sleep called to you as you lay in your husband's arms. So wonderfully relaxed, your muscles were loose and your womanhood ached in the best way from the lasting effects of your pleasure. 

 The sound of movement made you tip your head to the side, only to see Hvitserk getting off the bed and reaching for his clothes. 

 "Where are you going?" You asked, your voice lethargic as if already infused by sleep. 

 Those brown eyes jumped from you to your husband and back. "I figured Ivar would want me to leave now so you two can go to sleep."

 "Stay, Hvitty. The hour is late." Ivar replied, running a hand up and down your bare back. "Besides I plan on this arrangement until y/n is with child. You can stay with us."

 With a tilt of his head, the brothers regarded each other for a long moment before Hvitserk chuckled, tossing his tunic back to the ground and crawling into bed in just his pants. 

 "Thank the gods. This bed is ridiculously comfortable."

 You smiled, rolling over so your back was pressed to Ivar's chest, snuggling closer to him. His arm settled around your waist comfortably as he placed a kiss on the back of your neck. Snaking a hand over the covers, you reach over and entwine the elder brother's fingers with yours. Hvitserk startled initially but quickly brought your hand to his lips, a brief kiss on your knuckles, then laid it back on the bed, keeping your fingers entangled. 

 Sleep found you within minutes, tucked between the two Ragnarssons, one being your husband and the other who would give you a child. 

 Your last thought was wondering if Fate would allow this arrangement to work….and maybe continue. 

[emerald-chaos]

Touchdown

*gif not mine, credit goes to the owner*

I just want to take a moment to say thank you for the love on my last fic! It made my lil ole heart swell to see that peopled enjoyed it enough to leave a like or reblog.

This is just something special I had in my arsenal that I wrote for a friend a few months ago. I touched it up a bit and added a few things here and there. It all started when we were talking about how much we loved when Chris' accent got heavier after he'd been drinking, and well, I couldn't help myself lol. I hope you enjoy the fluff! xoxo

I apologize for any grammatical errors, I tried to proof-read but am also a little exhausted lol.

Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader

Word Count: 2844

Warnings: I don't think there's anyway? Mentions of being drunk/drinking alcohol, cursing, and illusions to sexy times, but that's about it.

You hadn’t noticed how furiously your knee was bouncing up and down until the person sitting next to you on the subway got up to move seats once the train squealed to a stop. You sighed and ran your hands down the front of your thighs. Normally being a little late didn’t bother you as much, but tonight you were meeting him.

You flipped your wrist over to check your watch. 8:30pm. In all honesty, it had probably been only thirty seconds later than when you checked it the last time. Another deep sigh escaped from your lips as you started to become hyper aware of the train remaining still at the current stop. What could possibly be taking so long? You knew he wouldn’t care if you were running late, but the time the two of you had together already felt so minuscule. You wanted to capitalize on every second you could.

The train began moving again and you slumped back into your seat, feeling only a small amount of relief. It was becoming painfully apparent that you needed to try and relax. You could feel the sweat building up on your body, the sting on your palms from where your fingernails were pressing in with a vengeance moments ago, and you could hear your heart thumping in your ears. Your hand dug around in your purse for a few moments before finding the small case you were looking for. Opening it, you slipped your headphones into your ears and let your head rest on the window behind you as music intertwined with your thoughts.

Once upon a time, you made fun of people who decided to go to grad school. What kind of a clown would spend thousands of MORE dollars and go BACK to school?? Not to mention the stress of the assignments, the due dates - it was not for you...or so you thought.

Now here you are, a regular booboo the fool.

NYU’s graduate program for design and merchandising wasn’t necessarily part of your 5-year plan, but when the opportunity landed in front of you it was difficult to pass up. NYU was a school you had only dreamt of attending back in high school. When you were a senior in high school you were able to tour the campus and fell in love immediately. Hours upon hours were spent researching grants, scholarships, and all sorts of ways to try to make it happen. However, the dream ended as most teenage dreams do - crushed. There was no way you or your parents could afford the loans that it would surely wrack up to attend the out of state university, and there was no way you could ask your parents take on that kind of debt just so you could go to college. UMass was the way to go - close to home and familiar. Not to mention you were able to obtain several scholarships and grants that helped bring down the cost tremendously. Little did you know, boring ole UMass would bring you one of the most important things in your life.

Applying for graduate school wasn’t an easy decision and one you couldn’t really take all the credit for. A smile crept across your face as you reminisced on the night you nervously brought up the idea to your long-term boyfriend.

“I think you should do it,”

“I know, right?” you scoffed, “it’s insane, why would I do something so stup...wait, what? You do?”

“Of course I do. This is something you love and that you’re passionate about. Do you know how many hours of my life were spent listening to you ramble about NYU?” he questioned with a grin.

“It will open up so many doors for you. We can make things work,” a chuckle escaped from those beautiful lips as he saw your dumbfounded expression. He wrapped his fingers around your waist and pulled you close, “What? Did you expect me to forbid it? Cmon, baby, what kind of guy do you take me for?”

You didn’t have a lot of wins in your life, but you did have Chris.

When you got accepted, he took off a week from work to drive you 3 and a half hours south to help get you settled and moved into your temporary new home. The two of you ate a disgusting amount of pizza, moved a ridiculous amount of heavy furniture in the middle of a summer heat wave, and enjoyed each other’s company before the long-distance thing would set in. Chris spent that week encouraging you every step of the way, talking you off the ledge when you were convinced you had made the wrong decision, and made sure to help you christen every possible surface of your new place in the most deliciously sinful way.

You bit your lip slightly at the thought and a warm feeling spread across your face. Chris was one of the most incredible people you had met in this world. Kind, caring, funny, intelligent, passionate, and god was he sexy. The connection the two of you had was scary at first, but now you just couldn’t imagine spending your life with anyone else.

The robotic voice came over the loud-speaker in the subway car and you were rudely ripped back to reality as it pulled into your stop. You hurriedly scooped up your bag and jogged off the train.

It had been a promise between the two of you when you moved that there would be equal effort when it came to visiting and keeping in contact while having good, open communication. Long distance was hard but the two of you were determined to make it work. FaceTime calls, hours upon hours of texting, and even as far as writing the occasional letter back and forth (because your boyfriend was a hopeless romantic and you loved it so much). This weekend was your turn to come home to visit, and of course your last class had to go longer than anticipated. Fuckin’ Tiffany and her stupid ass questions.

The muscles of your calves burned as you kept up your hurried pace, weaving through the crowds of people gathered on sidewalks outside of various clubs and restaurants. It was a weekend night and the Patriots were playing, which meant the city was more alive than usual. New York was it's own beast, but it was a different type of hustle and bustle. Nights like these made your heart ache for home - the thick Massachusetts accents, the rowdy voices of bar patrons arguing about the game, the hugs shared between family members as they parted after dinner, and the faint smell of nicotine and alcohol that hung in the air.

As the neon sign that hung in the pub window came in to view you felt your heart dip down into your stomach. Last weekend’s visit had to be cancelled due to some stuff coming up with Chris’ work and a surprise assignment for you, so you hadn’t seen your boyfriend in 2 weeks. With a deep breath you swung open the door and scanned the crowd for him. He told you that he would be there promptly at 7:15pm for pregame shenanigans with his friends - which actually translated to how many pitchers of beer could they suck down before kick off.

“Aw, come ON! That is such a bullshit call!”

You heard him before you saw him. Of course. A grin spread across your lips as you shook your head. The thought of leaving to avoid secondhand embarrassment crossed your mind briefly before you picked up your feet and made your way through the crowd toward the sound. A room full of people from New England and you would still recognize that voice anywhere.

Everyone else seemed to fade away as you saw the outline of the tall, dark haired man standing at the bar. The slight freckles that spattered the back of his neck, the Brady jersey that he spent WAY too much money customizing, and the signature backward ball cap were ingrained in your subconscious memory. Not to mention if you didn’t recognize his outline or his voice, you would definitely recognize that ass anywhere.

You loved how passionate he got about sports and the way his Boston accent seemed to get thicker with each beer he consumed. Growing up in the area, you wouldn't think the accent would send a tingle down your spine the way it does, but it was different - it was Chris. Not to mention the sparkle in his eye when he would watch his favorite team or the way he would get in to arguments whenever someone tried to say something negative about them. You loved your big, handsome, over-sized toddler man so damn much.

A light tap on his shoulder made him whip around, his slightly opened mouth from his interrupted conversation curved upwards into a wicked grin as he made the connection of who was finally standing in front of him.

“Hey there, handsome. I don’t see a ring on your finger. You single?” You grinned, feeling your entire body fill with warmth as Chris leaned back and grabbed his chest as he erupted in laughter.

“Nah, nah, nah, unfortunately for you I am taken” he responded as he snaked his arms around your waist, sliding his hands into your back pockets as he pulled you into his figure.

“That is too bad,” you tsk'd, running a finger down his toned bicep, “she’s one lucky girl.”

“I think I’m the lucky one,” he grinned. He leaned down to meet your lips in a kiss. You sighed into it, allowing your body to mold itself so perfectly into his. The taste of beer on his lips and the smell of his cologne was intoxicating - it was home. You immediately allowed him entrance as you felt his tongue glide along your bottom lip. Your body felt small in his strong grip and you couldn’t help but laugh a bit as he gave your ass a firm squeeze. Normally, this type of bold, public display of affection would make you cringe away but at this point you were lost in Chris that you had absolutely no shame. Each time the two of you embraced had always felt like the first. Your heart still fluttered and your knees still got weak, like you were a 16 year old being kissed for the first time.

In the middle of your reunion moment, however, something happened in the game that made the entire bar erupt in boo’s and curses. Chris lifted his lips from yours to look over his shoulder and inspect what he had missed. You laughed and shook your head as you pushed him back towards his friends and took a seat in the bar stool he had been standing behind initially. His large hands found a natural place on your shoulders. While his eyes remained glued on the TV he began applying a moderate amount of pressure to your neck and shoulders. You didn’t realize how much your body craved that touch, his touch, until you immediately melted back into him.

The bartender slid a beer in front of you with a wink and you mouthed your thanks. You felt a twinge in your heart as you looked around, taking in the atmosphere of the bar. This was a typical weekend night for the two of you whenever you were living together. Football, drinks, pub food, and friends. If it wasn’t this pub it was your living room, just a couple blocks away. You didn’t even mind that it was your first night back and you weren’t alone, spending it immediately wrapped up in your satin sheets. The atmosphere, the people - it was so warm and familiar that you really wouldn’t rather be doing anything else. Plus, being wrapped up together in the sheets was sure to follow.

“I missed you,” hummed a pair of lips as they placed a kiss on the shell of your ear. A shiver shot down your spine at the sensation of his warm breath fanning over your neck. You reached up a hand and connected it to the nape of his neck.

“I missed you too,” you replied, turning your head to plant a kiss on his stubbled cheek.

His arms changed position as he wrapped them in front of your shoulders and crossed them, resting his chin on the top of your head. Your hand absentmindedly rubbed his forearms as you nursed your beer and placed your focus onto the game for the first time tonight.

The laughter seemed to escape from your chest naturally and effortlessly the entire night, as it always had a habit of doing when Chris was around. The camaraderie between him and his buddies during a game was something you’d grown to enjoy over the years. Chris’ competitive nature and the way his jaw clenched when something wasn’t going the way he wanted was always kinda...hot. All of his friends were huge assholes, but in the best way. It was always entertaining to hear them jab at each other and do what they could to rile someone up. They were the life of every party you had ever attended and they had a way of making a boring night a lot more interesting.

Thankfully (for the integrity of the bar) the Pats won the game with a surprise touchdown in the last 30 seconds of the game. Chris, being the guy he is, bought a final round for his friends and a nearby group they had been going back and forth with all night. You couldn’t help but laugh as he drunkenly leaned across the counter and slurred his order to the bartender.

“I need a round for m’friends and for these assholes over here who thought Tom Brady was anything but a winner!” the group started yelling in protest and he simply waved them off and started sliding beers down the bar.

The group eventually moved to a bigger round top so everyone could shoot the shit and banter about the outcome of the game. You were tucked into Chris’ side, hands intertwined as he was passionately discussing the importance of Brady’s legacy with a stranger who made the mistake of stopping to talk to him. Your eyes followed the motion of your thumb as it traced small circles onto the back of his. Your other hand under your chin, holding up the weight of your head as your exhaustion started to catch up with you. Chris, although slightly drunk, picked up on your body language and raised your hand to his lips for a kiss.

“Alright, fellas,” he said as he stood up from his seat, pulling you up with him, “the lady and I are gonna call it a night. See you boys next weekend”.

“Chris, we don’t have to go,” you began to protest as he tucked his jacket around your shoulders.

“Mm, ‘course we do,” he replied with a soft smile, “you’re so tired, baby. I can see it in those beautiful eyes”.

You could feel your cheeks turn a light shade of pink as you rolled your eyes at his attempt at laying it on thick. After what felt like a proper 10 minute goodbye session, the group said their final goodbyes, hugs included, and you walked out of the pub hand in hand.

The walk home was filled with the sounds of cars passing by and conversation of what each other had missed in the week prior. Small talk typically felt like such a chore, but with Chris every conversation came naturally. Even when he had absolutely no idea what you were talking about, he would listen intently and ask all the questions as if it was the most interesting conversation in the world.

The lock on the apartment door clicked as you pushed it open and entered. You smiled as you stopped into the middle of the living room, taking in the home you missed so dearly. A soft tapping of toenails against the hardwood made your heart soar as you met the eyes of your sweet pup, Dodger. A squeal left your lips as you squatted down to give love to the sweet boy. Chris always made fun of you when you came home, saying that you always seemed to miss Dodger more than you did him and I mean, he wasn’t entirely wrong about that statement.

Once again lost in your own world, you didn’t even notice Chris leaned up against the wall watching you with a smile.

“Oh my god,” you gushed, standing up, “do you like...like me or something?”

Chris grinned as he crossed the room and caught your belt loop with his finger, pulling you into him slowly.

“Yeah,” his voice had dropped down an octave, “you could say that”.

“Mm,” your tongue swiped across your lower lip and you wrapped your arms around his neck, “care to show me how much?”

The look in his eyes made your core burn. The tension building between you two became too much to handle as you crashed your lips into his. The kisses were messy and you could feel the sense of urgency between you two. His beard scratched against the column of your throat with a delicious burn as he left wet kisses across your jaw and down the side of your neck. Chris’ hands found their way back into the ass pockets of your jeans as he started walking you back towards the direction of the bedroom.

Soon, there was a trail of clothes leading to your bedroom and you felt very sorry for your neighbors. It had been a long time, but Chris always had a way of welcoming you home.

[no-pucks-given]

TYSON JOST | LIGHT MY WAY HOME

A/N: More than 12.000 words later, more than a month after the initial request from Taylor popped up in my notifications. What a freaking ride. My longest fic I've ever written, and maybe even my favourite one. Thank you, to everyone who hyped me up, send me inspo and send me sweet asks. I couldn't have done this without all of you. Special thanks to @dumb-and-dunner, @chicagoblackhawkslover96, @heybarzy and Chrissy (who doesn't have Tumblr unfortunately).

Warnings: Angst, ‘can I strangle him yet?’ Tyson, swearwords, some major character development and (how could I not?!) a happy ending.

Also: Gabe and Melissa Landeskog play a big part in this fic, so if you aren't comfortable with them, you might want to skip this one.

Word Count: 12.1K

Requested: Yes.

The NHL lifestyle, or the ‘popular’ lifestyle was attractive to all young, hormonal boys. You’d known that for a long time. You stood by Tyson’s side when he got drafted into the wicked world of the NHL. Parties, drinking, sex, training until you can barely move, fights, games, wins and losses. It all had it’s charms, but it also had its dangers. Just like any other guy Tyson wanted to experience it all, the whole package,

You assumed you fell under that ‘whole package’, you were his girlfriend for a reason, right? And you did, for a while. You partied together, came home together, did everything together. But the moment Tyson became older and ‘known’ outside the regular hockey fans, that title didn’t mean much anymore. He became more and more the type of guy you didn’t fall in love with, the type to take you for granted, the type to enjoy the attention of other people, other women in particular. You weren’t the jealous type, you didn’t want to claw out the eyes of every woman that looked at him, but you were at a breaking point. Maybe you were jealous, you weren’t jealous of those other women, you were jealous of the attention Tyson gave them. Attention he should’ve been giving to you, his freaking girlfriend.

You were however the loyal type, the type to come home after a long night. And that’s exactly where things went wrong with Tyson. While you were waiting for him at home with a meal, a warm bed or just simply anything else, he was out. You had no idea where he was exactly, he was simply ‘out’, whatever that might mean. You tried to talk to him, you tried to make him see that this wouldn’t end well for either of you, but he simply waved off your concerns, shrugged his shoulders and moved on.

How do you talk to someone who rediscovered himself? How do you talk to someone who thinks he’s on top of the world? How do you save someone from the downfall of success when they don’t want to be saved? You knew one day he’ll come down from this high, one day he’ll realize that he screwed up. One day he’ll come to the conclusion he let something special slip through his fingers, and for what? Fame? Drinks? A rush of adrenaline? One day. But you knew that it wouldn’t be today.

However today is the day that you’re done. Absolutely fed up with all the bullshit excuses Tyson has been feeding you, all the coming home late or not even coming home at all. You have no idea what he’s been up to these last months, he’s barely home. Even when he’s home it’s like he isn’t really there. You can’t even remember the last time the two of you slept together or the last time you actually went to bed at the same time. Breakfast together? A lifetime ago. A lazy day together? Can’t remember. Date night? Months, months ago. Even thinking about it pisses you off to no end, the pain and hurt slowly making place for a new emotion: anger.

It’s frustrating to say the least. You love and take care of him like he means the world to you, and he does. Tyson on the other hand seems to take you for granted, or forgets you’re here at all. It seems like you’re talking to a brick wall instead of your boyfriend. No matter how hard you try, your words have no impact, your tears don’t make him feel anything. It’s like he’s a totally different person. You barely recognize him anymore these days, he feels like a stranger inside the body of the man you love. It feels like you’re both living your life, besides each other instead of with each other. It hurts, that’s for sure.

Like any other day you’ve prepared dinner, put it on the table and sat down on one of the chairs. All you can do now is wait, wait and pray he’ll show up this time. You even texted him, begged him to come home and simply eat dinner with you for a change. Of course you didn’t get a response, of course it’s complete radio silence from his side. God, you were desperate at this point, you don’t even try to deny it.

With every passing minute your hope disappears little by little. You stare at the food on the table until it’s completely dark outside, no sign of Tyson. Hours passed and you barely noticed it, it isn’t until you try to stand up and your muscles ache from sitting in the same position for a long time that you realize how much time actually has passed. “Fuck this, why am I even trying anymore?” you mutter to yourself, shaking your head. This isn’t worth it, it hasn’t been for a long time. Maybe, just maybe you’re finally ready to admit it to yourself.

Deciding to choose yourself over Tyson is a major decision, one you probably should’ve made sooner. It doesn’t matter, what does matter is that you’re choosing you now. You make the split second decision to just grab your stuff, just the necessary stuff. You remember Gabe’s offer, at the time you waved it off with a smile, pretending it wasn’t as bad as it might look to the outside world, but now? You want nothing more than to take him up on his offer. So what’s stopping you?

Even though you were excruciating calm this whole time, the moment you step into your bedroom, or Tyson’s bedroom, you break. This is real, this is really happening. You grab your bags, filling them with some of your stuff. Some clothes, some toiletries, your makeup, everything you might need. It’s a tough job, it’s even harder when you almost can’t see past the tears. At some point you lose track of things you did and didn’t grab, just shoving random items into your bag.

You let out a frustrated sigh, your body sinking down on the floor. In your hands the box containing all your high school love letters, all the small gifts you made each other. Tyson was quite handy, who would’ve thought that? You smile at the memories, sorting through the box. You frown at the feeling surging through your body, is this how heartbreak feels? Looking down at the contents of the box you sigh, wiping away the tears streaming down your face. Why couldn’t life be as simple as it used to be? It shouldn’t be this hard, right? You grab your prom picture between your fingers, smiling sadly at the two people in the picture, both smiling like they just won the lottery, both utterly in love with the other. How time can change..

You throw the box on the bed, maybe it will remind Tyson what the two of you had was special, maybe he’ll realize what he’s about to lose. If it doesn’t, well, it’s his loss. Hauling your bags downstairs is a full workout, you intended to bring ‘just the essentials’ but you have way more important stuff than you originally thought. You aren’t planning on returning to this house any time soon.

Shutting the car door after you loaded in your stuff gives you some form of relief. You let out the breath you’ve been holding in. You made your decision, it’s time to follow through now. You make your way back inside, and into the kitchen. Cleaning up all leftovers from dinner, which obviously is a lot more than you expected. Although.. did you really think he would show up? You shake your head again, putting the leftovers into the fridge. After you finish the dishes you retreat back to the living room, falling down on the couch with a loud sigh. All you can do now is wait.

You could’ve just left and never look back, but that isn’t your style. If you’re going to leave, you’ll do it the right way. You won’t leave without giving him a piece of mind, letting him know he fucked this up for good. You try to focus on the movie playing on the screen, but your heart keeps beating harder and harder, at this point you wish you would’ve just left instead of waiting for Tyson to show up. God, why did you have to do it the right way? Because you know, deep down, you would’ve wanted him to do it the same way. It’s the humane thing to do, it’s only right after spending such a long time together.

The front door opening brings you out of your thoughts. Honestly you don’t even know what time it is, but frankly you don’t care. All you want right now is to get this off your chest and leave. Tyson’s eyes widen when he comes face-to-face with you, surprisingly he doesn’t seem that intoxicated. You suspected he went out, but at this point he could’ve been anywhere.

“You’re still up,” Tyson says, walking past you and flopping down on the couch.

“Yep, and you missed dinner,” you counter, crossing your arms. Tyson simply shrugs his shoulder, clearly not caring enough to explain his absence. “I texted you to make sure you would be here,” you say, even though you know it doesn’t make a difference.

“Yeah, I was busy,” Tyson answers, looking down at his phone.

You almost feel the need to chuckle, to start laughing at his stupid behavior, but this is anything but funny to you, it fucking hurts. “I’m done, Tyson. I’m fucking done,” you say, shaking your head, trying so hard to keep the tears away.

Tyson looks at you with dull eyes, no emotion visible on his face. “Then go to fucking bed, I really can’t deal with your problems right now,” he sighs, turning his head back to the phone in his hand.

Right now, at this moment you know you made the right decision. This isn’t behavior of someone who’s in love, this isn’t even behavior of someone who loves. “You don’t have to deal with me anymore, because I’m leaving. I’m done, we’re done,” you tell him, emphasizing the last part. Tyson’s eyes shoot to yours, the panic clearly written all over his face now.

“No, we’re not. You can’t break up with me, y/n!” he almost shouts at you, standing up from the couch.

“Yes, I can and I will. You don’t get to act like you care all of the sudden, Tyson. You haven’t acted like a boyfriend in months. You haven’t given me any reason to stay, so I won’t. I’m done with whatever this is,” you say, waving between the two of you. Tyson grabs your wrist, tears starting to pool in his eyes. He opens his mouth to say something but you cut him off. “No. No. You don’t get to do this. It’s over. You put on quite a show, but I can’t say it was very entertaining. This curtain fucking closes right now, show is over. You can act like you care, but I know by now that you don’t,” you tell him, ripping your arm out of his grip.

You walk over to the front door, keeping your head high. Now is not the time to break down, your time will come. You hear Tyson behind you, muttering how sorry he is, excuse after excuse leave his mouth. You open the door, turning around one last time to look at Tyson. “Don’t tell me you’re sorry, ‘cause you’re not,” you say while shaking your head. You close the door behind you, not looking back at what you’ve left behind, only looking forward to what’s yet to come.

It’s when you’re in your car mindlessly driving around when you realize you have nowhere to go. You forgot to call Gabe, and it’s probably way too late now. You quickly check the time, 2am, shit that’s late. You doubt he’s still awake, you feel bad for even thinking about waking him up. Two young children, both of them under the age of 2, and being a professional hockey player probably cost him enough energy already, you don’t need to add to that. “He did say I could always call him when I made my decision,” you say out loud, more to convince yourself that it’s okay than anything else.

You easily find Gabe’s contact, immediately pressing the dial button before you change your mind again. The line only rings twice before Gabe picks up. “I’m guessing you either finally broke up with him or there’s a fire somewhere,” Gabe says from the other side of the line. You chuckle, shaking your head. “And since you’re calling me and not the fire department, my guess is on the first one,” Gabe continues, trying to make you smile some more.

“I did it, I broke up with him, couldn’t stand to be there any second longer,” you sigh, brushing your fingers through your hair.

You hear Gabe’s sigh of relief. “I’m proud of you, y/n. I know this isn’t what you had in mind, but it’s better like this, I promise.”

Gabe turned into one of your best friends over time, Melissa is the older sister you never had and you love their children like they’re your own. Gabe and Melissa welcomed you into their family immediately after meeting you. You hadn’t expected to make friends and you definitely didn’t expect to make friends with the captain and his wife, but you’re so grateful you did. The support you receive from them is overwhelming, you couldn’t wish for better friends. So when Gabe first made you this offer, you were thankful he did, although you were still convinced at that point that Tyson would change.

“Uhm, you know.. that offer you made me? Is that still on the table?” you ask, praying he’ll say ‘yes’, praying you don’t have to sleep in some random hotel tonight.

“Of course, the guestroom is already prepared. Melissa expects you to be here as soon as possible, apparently she ‘really needs to cuddle her little sister’,” Gabe chuckles, you can almost hear him rolling his eyes at his wife.

“Thank you, Gabe. I owe you,” you say softly.

“You don’t. You’re family, y/n,” Gabe says, and you know he means every word he just said. Family. “Now get your ass over here, before Melissa starts a search party,” Gabe chuckles, making you laugh some more, because you know she would. You quickly say your goodbyes, promising you’ll be there in a few minutes. It’s just a short drive from your apartment, or Tyson’s apartment now, to Gabe and Mel’s place.

You kept up your appearance, keeping the tears at bay, but the moment you step out of your car and into Gabe’s arms you’re done. “Come here, I’m so sorry,” Gabe says softly, his hands rubbing soothing circles on your back.

You stand there for a few minutes, simply crying on your best friend’s shoulder, until Melissa squeezes herself between the two of you. “Hush, I need some sister time. Why don’t you grab her stuff?” she says, smiling sweetly at her husband.

Gabe sighs dramatically, sending a wink your way. “Whatever you say, wife.”

Melissa pulls you close to her, an arm around your waist, her head resting on your shoulder. “Come on, I’ll show you your room,” she softly says, leading you into the house. You’ve been here so many times already, but never like this. You’ve never been in a situation like this before, you’re not sure how to handle this. “I can hear the wheels turning in your head. It will be okay,” Melissa says, rubbing your arm soothingly. You sigh, shrugging your shoulders, not sure what to say.

Melissa leads you to your room, pushing you down on the bed, while she takes a seat on the edge of the bed. “I know you’re probably exhausted, but do you want to talk?” Melissa asks softly, her face showing nothing but compassion.

You lay back on the bed, staring at the ceiling, thinking about all that has happened. “I don’t even know what to say, Mel. I don’t even know how I feel right now. I’m just so...” you trail off, not knowing the right words to describe everything that you feel and think right now.

“Confused, relieved, mad?”

You sit back up, looking back at Melissa. “All of the above, I guess? It hurts, but I’m glad I did it. But I also regret it, because I love him, you know? I’m mad he didn’t try harder for me, for us,” you say, trying hard to keep the rush of tears away.

Melissa wraps her arms around you, pulling you close to her. “I know, sweetheart. It will take time, but you’re going to be okay.”

You sigh, knowing she’s right, even though it probably will take more time than just ‘some time’. You did just end a long relationship, it will take a lot of patience and time to work through that. “Thank you, Mel. For letting me stay here,” you mumble against Melissa’s shoulder.

“No need for that. You’re my sister, remember?” Melissa smiles at you.

Gabe softly knocks on the door before opening the door. “Brought your bags, thought you might need them before you go to sleep,” he says, smiling at the sight before him. Your friendship might be unconventional, but he couldn’t care less what other people think about it. Gabe absolutely adores the sister bond you and Mel share, he hoped the two of you would get along, so this? Picture perfect.

“Thanks, Gabe,” you smile at him.

“Do you mind if I steal my wife from you?” Gabe asks, making you and Melissa laugh out loud.

“Nope, she’s all yours,” you chuckle, waving at their retreating backs when they walk out of the room.

You strip out of your clothes, pulling on a sweater. You sigh, realizing you packed some of Tyson’s sweaters out of habit. His smell infiltrates your senses, making it damn hard to keep your emotions under control. It’s right this moment you know exactly how you feel. Heartbroken. The realization that your relationship with Tyson is really over doesn’t give you the satisfaction you hoped for, it doesn’t give you peace, it just fucking hurts. You simply feel hollow, even though deep down you know this was the right choice, this was what needed to happen. You know damn well why you feel so empty, you gave your heart to Tyson a long, long time ago, never expecting to be in a situation you might get it back. You don’t want it back, but you might need it back.

You realize it’s morning when the light softly shines into your room. You sigh, knowing damn well you’re lucky if you slept more than an hour this night. Rolling over you look at the clock on the wall, 9 am, perfect. Deciding it won’t do you any good if you stay in bed any longer, you force yourself out of bed and into the shower. The hot water warms your cold skin, soothing your sore muscles. All the twisting and turning you did all night surely didn’t help the way you feel right now. Why couldn’t life be a bit easier by simply letting the shower wash away all of your hurt, all of your pain? A fresh start, a clean slate.

You slip on some skinny jeans and a soft sweater, not in the mood to even think about doing your makeup. You dry your hair, before making a quick ponytail out of it. You walk down stairs, the chatter and laughter greeting you as soon as you walk into the kitchen. “Morning, guys,” you say, smiling at all the happy faces before you. A round of greetings sound throughout the room.

“How’d you sleep?” Gabe asks you as soon as you sit down next to him with a bowl of cereal.

“Can’t even tell you, suddenly it was 9 am,” you chuckle, shrugging your shoulders at Gabe’s raised eyebrow. “Do you have any idea where my phone is?” you ask Gabe, knowing he grabbed all your stuff out of your car.

“Uhh, I do, but I don’t know if you really want to look at it,” Gabe says, scratching the back of his head before pointing towards the kitchen counter. It’s your turn to raise your eyebrows, walking over to where Gabe’s pointing at.

You unlock your phone, quickly checking your notifications. “Oh damn,” you mutter, looking at the absurd amount of missed calls and messages left by none other than Tyson himself.

You sit back down next to Gabe, dropping your head on your arms. “What do I do now, Gabe?” you groan. “Why does he care all of the sudden?”

Gabe rubs his hand over your back before answering your question. “Because he lost you, y/n. He never thought he would.” You turn your head towards Gabe letting his words sink in.

Gabe gets ready to leave for practice shortly after you settle on the couch with Lucas in your arms. The little man has a fascination with your hair, maybe it’s all babies who have that, but you like to think that you’re special. “Don’t pull out all y/n’s hair, baby boy,” Gabe chuckles, giving his boy a soft kiss on his head. He gives you a kiss on your cheek, softly squeezing your shoulder. You open your mouth to say something, but Gabe cuts you off. “I know what you’re thinking. Don’t worry about it, I’m his captain, but I’m your friend, okay? Just relax, make sure Lucas doesn’t puke on you and go do whatever it is that you women do all day,” Gabe chuckles, knowing you better than you know yourself. You mouth a quick ‘thank you’ to him, wishing him good luck with practice before he runs through the house trying to find his girls to kiss them goodbye.

“Your daddy is a good guy, you know that, Lucas?” you smile at the baby on your lap. Lucas coos, his hands grabbing onto the strands of your hair. “Your daddy and mommy make me feel so loved, even though their children like to see me in pain,” you joke, trying to free your hair from Lucas’s small hands. “Buddy, you’re way stronger than you look,” you mumble, when Lucas pulls on your hair again.

Melissa laughs out loud the moment she walks into the living room. “How many times did I tell you that you need to keep your hair away from him and his grabby hands?” she says, expertly freeing your hair from her son’s fists.

“Apparently not enough times,” you chuckle at her. Melissa joins you on the couch, while Linnea Rae plays on the ground with some of her toys, happily showing you what she got every now and then. It’s times like this that you’re extra grateful for Melissa and Gabe, the way they welcomed you into their family has been nothing but perfect.

“So, what’s going through that pretty head of yours?” Melissa asks, while scrolling through series to watch on Netflix.

You shrug your shoulders. “I don’t know, I’m kind of worried about practice, I think? I don’t want to put Gabe in this position,” you say, keeping your eyes on Lucas.

“You know Gabe would do anything for you, huh? You don’t know how many times he came home utterly frustrated by the way Tyson treated you. He never said anything, because you were still with him, I can’t promise you he will stay quiet this time,” Melissa says, squeezing your shoulder. “He’ll be fine, this isn’t Gabe’s first rodeo.”

You look at Melissa, who simply gives you a wink. “I know, I know. I just don’t want him to get in trouble or anything,” you say, smiling back at her. You trust and know Gabe, so hopefully there won’t be a lot of trouble today.

“If he does though, he probably deserves it.”

Gabe surprises you all with some takeaway when he gets home from practice. It’s been nice eating with other people for change, it’s been way too long. The amount of lonely dinners has been through the roof lately. Gabe nudges you with his elbow, causing you to look up at him. “No frowning at the table.”

Melissa rolls her eyes at her husband while you just stick out your tongue at him. “Sure, dad,” you say, causing Melissa to almost choke on her bite of food before she lets out a loud laugh.

“Yeah, dad. Leave us alone,” Melissa laughs, winking at her husband. Gabe shakes his head at you and Melissa, a grin plastered on his face.

It’s during dessert you find the courage to ask about Tyson. You weren’t sure if you needed to ask Gabe, you weren’t even sure if you wanted to know anything, but now you know you do. “So, did anything happen during practice?” you ask him, playing around with your spoon.

Gabe shakes his head, giving you a small smile. “Not much, just some chirping. Told him I’m his captain and he needs to fucking focus on practice. That seemed to do the trick,” Gabe says, shrugging his shoulders, continuing to eat his dessert.

You look across the table at Melissa who has the same expression on her face as you. Not convincing at all. ‘Sure,’ Melissa mouths at you from across the table. You shake your head at her, furrowing your eyebrows at Gabe’s statement. ‘Nope,’ you mouth back at her, finishing your dessert. You decide to let it go, you don’t even know why you care so much. You shouldn’t, right? You broke things off with Tyson, so why do you care so much what he does and thinks? The answer to that question is pretty simple the longer you think about it. Because you still love him, that’s why.

You thank everyone for dinner and dessert, promising to cook something from them later this week. Right now all you can think about is your bed and a decent night of sleep. God, that sounds like a true dream right now. You strip out of your clothes, crawling into the soft and cozy bed. It doesn’t take long before you fall asleep, showing just how exhausted you truly are.

The weeks that follow are filled with all kinds of activities, the 5 of you falling back into a comfortable rhythm, surprising you considering the situation you’re in. It isn’t every day you take in the ex-girlfriend of one of your teammates, or your best friend, whatever way you want to see things. When you aren’t working you spend a lot of time with the kids, trying to make things easier for Melissa and Gabe whenever they are busy or simply need some time for the two of them. You happily take on some of their care, even if it’s as simple as making sure they get their food in time. Honestly they are two of the sweetest children you’ve ever come across, they always find ways to make you laugh, even though most of the time it isn’t on purpose.

It’s been quiet around the house tonight, Melissa went out with a few of her friends, while she left Gabe and the kids with you. Apparently she needed some ‘alone time’ which didn’t include kids, and definitely didn’t include Gabe after he mentioned he wanted some ‘alone time’ with her as well. You love their friendly bickering, the love they have for each other visible in everything they do. So when Melissa gave her husband a dirty look and flipped him the bird the only logical thing to do was to start laughing at their exchange. “Have fun with them, sweetheart!” Melissa had yelled at you when she walked through the door, leaving the four of you behind.

Together you decide to just have a movie night. It’s late enough for both children to be asleep already, yet early enough to squeeze in a full size movie marathon. “Gladiatorrrrr!” Gabe exclaims excitedly while scrolling through the movie selection on Netflix, pausing on his all-time favorite movie.

You groan, covering your face with your hands. “Please no, have mercy, Gabe,” you laugh, knowing damn well you’re going to sit through this movie again. How many times has it been already? 12? You wouldn’t even be surprised. This dude really loves his movie. You look at Gabe from between your fingers, seeing the look on his face which makes you groan even more. “Fineeee, one more time, Gabe. One more time,” you whine at him, secretly enjoying his taste in movies, something you don’t plan on telling him ever.

It’s a little after 10pm when the doorbell rings. You look at Gabe, who looks just as surprised as you are. “It’s a bit early for Mel, don’t you think?” Gabe asks, furrowing his eyebrows.

“Definitely, unless she drank the whole bottle of champagne again,” you chuckle, thinking back at one of the craziest parties you’ve ever been to with Mel and Gabe.

“Oh God, please don’t remind me of that,” Gabe shudders at the memory of that night, standing up to see who’s on the other side of the door.

Gabe hates to say that he isn’t surprised to see Tyson’s face as soon as he opens the door. Honestly he had expected him at his door days, maybe even weeks ago. The moment Tyson found out you were staying with Gabe he broke, Gabe expected him to fight, to yell, to scream, he expected him to do anything except cry. Which is exactly what Tyson did, breaking down in the middle of practice. For a moment the whole place went quiet, only Tyson’s cries echoing throughout the building. No one knew how to act, no one knew what to do, until Gabe realized he’s the captain for a reason. On and off the ice. It was a weird experience, one Gabe still feels extremely conflicted about. He comforted his teammate, his friend, while his other friend was at his home, utterly heartbroken, trying to get over the guy who was bawling his eyes out on the ice.

After Tyson got over the initial shock the anger took over, just as Gabe expected. It made him almost drop the gloves, something he tried to avoid, not wanting to hurt Tyson. He let him say his things, things that absolutely didn’t make any sense, until he got everything out of his system. “Now can we continue this fucking practice, Jost?” Gabe told him after everything calmed down. Gabe tried to avoid the Tyson/y/n topic as much as possible after that, not wanting to get in the middle of things more than he already was. Until tonight apparently.

Gabe raises an eyebrow at the boy before him. “Why are you here, Tyson?” Gabe sighs, already knowing the answer to that question.

Tyson looks around, eyes flickering from left to right, clearly uncomfortable being here. “I, uh, can I talk to y/n? I know she’s here,” Tyson asks, scratching the back of his head before putting them back in his pockets.

Gabe shakes his head at him. “You can’t, if she wants to talk to you she will find a way to contact you. As long as you don’t get your shit together and prove to me, but most of all to her, that you’ve changed, I won’t let you anywhere near her,” Gabe declares, starting to get annoyed with the way Tyson acts. There’s no way he lets him close to you until you feel like you’re ready to see him again, no way.

Tyson opens his mouth, but Gabe gives him a look that immediately shuts him up again. “I’m saying this as your captain, and definitely not as your friend right now. Go home and leave her the fuck alone. You had your chance, you fucked up and now you have to deal with the consequences. How you deal with those said consequences is up to you, but I suggest you leave now and think about everything you did and didn’t do, okay?” Tyson nods his head, turning around to walk back to his car.

When he’s a few steps away from his car he turns around, smiling sadly at Gabe. “She’s my home, Gabe. Home doesn’t feel the same without her. You out of all people should understand that.”

Gabe chuckles low, shaking his head at his clueless teammate. “I do. I do know what home feels like, but I never, never choose anyone or anything over my ‘home’. Never. You sure as hell did, time after time,” Gabe says frustratedly, before shutting the door, leaving behind an even more frustrated Tyson.

You didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but you caught the sound of Tyson’s voice when you walked to the kitchen, grabbing some more popcorn. You didn’t mean to listen to their conversation, but it felt like you were glued to your place, unable to take another step, unable to do anything but listen.

Gabe walks back into the room, the look on your face immediately letting him know you know. “How much did you hear?” he asks softly, approaching you slowly.

“Enough,” you whisper, before breaking down, no longer able to keep the tears locked away, no longer able to keep your emotions to yourself.

With two steps Gabe is in front of you, grabbing the bowl of popcorn you held onto between your trembling fingers. He guides you back to the couch, urging you to sit down, which is a true challenge for someone who can barely feel the ground they walk on. Gabe wraps his arms around you the moment you sit down, allowing you to cry onto his shoulder as much as you want and need. He whispers sweet nothings while softly brushing your hair out of your face, making sure you have room to breath. Time after time Gabe proves what kind of friend he is, always making sure to be there for you when he’s needed, always doing things with the best intentions. Even if it’s just holding you until you calm down, even if it’s just speaking the truth against Tyson, even if it’s just simply being there for one another.

“Sooner or later he would’ve realized what he lost, what he gave up for an evening of clubbing or God knows what. Apparently it’s sooner rather than later, however make sure you make him work for it, if you ever decide you want to give the two of you another chance,” Gabe softly advises you, when you finally calmed down a bit.

“I will, you know I love him, Gabe. But I don’t know if I should?” you mumble, not sure if it’s a question Gabe has the answer to.

“Sometimes the heart wants what it wants. If he’s serious about you, he will work his ass off to earn back your love and trust, I promise you,” Gabe comforts you, after knowing Tyson for so long he’s positive he knows that Tyson goes above and beyond to get what he wants in life.

Maybe it’s Gabe’s comforting words, maybe it’s knowing deep down Tyson still cares, maybe it’s your own strength, but for the first time in a while you feel a tiny flicker of hope, a little bit of light at the end of the dark tunnel. Maybe, just maybe this was all worth it, maybe this is what needed to happen to get better and move forward. Maybe this is how it was supposed to go.

It’s a weird feeling, knowing your ex still cares about you, but also knowing you aren’t ready to let him back into your life like that. You don’t feel like you’re capable of seeing him yet, let alone talk to him. The need to know how he’s doing, how he’s holding up grows, but also confuses you. It’s simply a weird and confusing situation to be in. Choosing between two, maybe even more ways to handle this, while also waiting for Tyson to make a move, which he obviously can’t since you don’t want to see him or speak to him, is a hard task. A task that will require a lot of thinking. You just need a bit more time to gather your thoughts, give all of your confusing feelings a place, while making sure you put yourself first, you need to put yourself first this time.

So when Gabe invites you to one of his home games a few weeks later you say ‘yes’ right away. It seems like the perfect time and place to see Tyson from a distance again, without putting too much stress on yourself, you can just watch and enjoy the game, you don’t have to force anything. Of course your seats turned out to be way closer to the ice than you expected them to be, although... what did you exactly expect with Gabe? You know he’s been talking to both of you, kind of acting like some sort of messenger. He tried to keep it casual, just slipping in some information during a conversation, but you noticed what he was trying to do. Frankly you’re thankful for his meddling.

Steadily your heart starts to beat faster and faster the more players appear on the ice to warm up. When Gabe appears you aren’t surprised to see Tyson close to him, knowing Gabe they probably had a little chat before they went on the ice. Tyson’s eyes shoot to yours the moment he’s close by, completely forgetting the ability to skate. You gasp when he lands on his ass on the ice, earning himself a round of laughter from the people around him, including Melissa and you. Gabe skates over to him, extending his hand and helping him upright again, but not before clearly telling him he’s ‘a dumbass’. Now that’s something you can agree on.

You know Tyson has something up his sleeve when he skates off to the bench, clearly busying himself with something you can’t see. After a few more stolen glances at each other Tyson skates closer and closer to you, until he’s right in front of the glass. His left hand catches your attention, until he gives you a small and almost shy smile. “Look at him, he’s blushing!” Melissa whispers next to you. You shoot her a quick ‘shut up’ look, before you focus your attention back on Tyson.

Tyson shows you the puck in his gloved hand, mouthing to you to catch it. It takes him two tries before the puck lands on the other side of the glass, safely in your hands. Tyson gives you one last quick smile before he skates off to get ready for the game. Melissa nudges you softly, bringing you back from your thoughts. “So, what’s on there?” she asks, knowing damn well you haven’t even checked.

“I don’t know if I want to look, Mel,” you tell her honestly. Melissa gives you a sad smile, throwing her arm around your shoulders.

“Let’s look together?” she suggests. You don’t know why you’re so nervous, how much can you actually write on a puck? He seemed happy to see you, so there’s no need to be nervous that it’s a bad thing. You look at the puck, turning it around in your hands so you can read the whole thing. ‘Talk after the game?’ is written on the puck, you immediately recognize Tyson’s handwriting and his little smiley face, or.. something that should resemble a smiley face.

“That wasn’t that bad, right?” Melissa asks softly, squeezing your shoulder.

“What if I’m not ready?” you ask her, a question that has been on your mind a lot lately.

“Then you take a step back, you don’t have to prove yourself to anyone, you don’t have any obligations. But he’s trying, y/n. You’ve heard all of Gabe’s stories, you’ve seen it yourself just now. It can’t hurt to at least talk to him.” You think about Melissa’s words, she does have a point there. Talking is something you should’ve done ages ago, or at least Tyson should’ve done that. So this is progress, he’s at least trying this time, that’s more than he used to do.

It’s hard to keep the smile off your face, you can’t even pinpoint why exactly you’re smiling. Whatever the reason is, it’s a good feeling to smile again. The game sure as hell plays a big part in it, the guys are on fire, scoring goal after goal, never giving the puck away for long. There’s barely any time for you to give Tyson a thumbs up, indicating you’re up for a talk after the game. Whenever you look at Tyson when he’s off the ice he’s smiling, whether it is to himself or to one of his teammates, that smile won’t leave his face.

You follow Melissa down to the locker room after the game is over. You’ve done this so many times, but this time it couldn’t be more different. You greet all the girls who are patiently waiting on their man, getting enough comforting words from them to last you a lifetime. When the door to the locker room opens you come face-to-face with Mikko, someone you haven’t seen in a while. Mikko’s face lights up when he spots you outside the locker room. “y/n! I haven’t seen you in so long,” he says, while hugging you tightly.

“I missed you too, goof. It’s great to see you,” you smile at him, wiggling out of his iron grip. Dude’s definitely stronger than he looks.

“Between you and me, Tyson’s a good kid, he just needed to grow up a bit,” Mikko whispers against your ear, before leaving you alone again.

You raise your eyebrow at Melissa, who just shrugs her shoulders. Weird. After a few more minutes Gabe and Tyson appear in front of you, both of them joking around. Tyson nervously looks around, not sure if he should come any closer. Gabe hugs you swiftly before throwing his arm around his wife’s shoulders. “Make sure you bring her home safely, Jost,” Gabe warns him, before quickly saying goodbye to both of you.

You watch them leave, your mouth agape by the way they just left you here. Rude. “Did they just really do that?” you ask no one in particular, still shocked by their actions.

You turn around, looking back at Tyson, who still appears to be nervous. Is he nervous to talk to you? Why would he be nervous? It’s just you. “Hi there,” you smile, looking up at the man in front of you.

“Hi beautiful, it was nice seeing you tonight,” Tyson softly says, giving you a small smile.

Your insides flutter with his use of words, it’s nice hearing them even though you’re not completely sure if he means them the way you hope he does. “It was. You played great, I had a lot of fun,” you say, smiling at the proud look that crosses Tyson’s face for a moment.

Tyson leads you back to the rink, which is now completely deserted, thinking it would be a nice place to chat. For a while the two of you fall back into small talk, ‘how’s life?’, ‘how’s work?’, all that bullshit. You know Tyson and you are avoiding the actual topic that needs to be discussed, or topics? Whatever it is, there’s a lot to talk about. “I missed it here, I forgot how much I loved being here,” you tell Tyson, looking at the lights that lighten up the place, thinking back at the memories full of fun and happiness you both created here.

“I missed you, baby,” Tyson blurts out, completely catching you off guard.

Your eyes shoot back to his, you feel the panic rising inside your body. “Tyson...,” you start, warning him he’s walking on thin ice here.

Tyson’s face falls a bit, seeing the anxious look on your face. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that,” Tyson groans, rubbing his face harshly, utterly frustrated with himself and the situation.

It’s quiet for a minute, both of you completely lost in thoughts. “Why is this so hard? We used to be able to talk about anything and everything. What changed, y/n?” Tyson wonders out loud.

You feel a painful pang in your heart, because you know damn well what changed. “You did, Tyson. You changed,” you almost whisper, the truth behind those words more clear than ever before.

You watch as Tyson’s whole composure changes in the blink of an eye, in just a split second he goes from the ‘happy’ guy to the guy who’s just as heartbroken as you are. “I did, didn’t I?” Tyson whispers, the tears pooling in his eyes. “I fucked this up, how could I be so stupid?” he mumbles, burying in face in his hands. “I’m so sorry, I regret this more than I could ever admit to you. I’m so sorry, baby,” Tyson cries, trying to keep his eyes focused on you. It’s hard to keep your own tears at bay when the guy you love so much has a breakdown in front of you, so you don’t. You just let them fall.

You don’t make a move to comfort him, you do give him room to let it all out, give him time to gather his composure again. “I looked through the box, the one you left on our bed?” Tyson says, his voice still broken, still thick with emotion. You nod your head, it was something you hoped he would do. “I had no idea you kept all of that throughout the years,” Tyson smiles weakly at you. “It made me realize what a moron I have been these past few months, maybe even longer,” he continues, shaking his head in disappointment. You listen intently at him, this, this is what you hoped for all this time: realization.

“I’m not telling you that you weren’t a moron, because you absolutely were. But I’m glad you came to the same conclusion.”

Tyson chuckles at your statement, giving you half a smile. “I know, I’m a dumbass. I’m a dumbass for acting this way and a dumbass for letting you go. Any guy would be on top of the world with you by his side, and I just let you slip through my fingers,” Tyson tells you, finally showing he knows he’s been a fool all this time, he knows he let something special go.

“Is it too late for us? Can you give us another chance?” Tysons asks you, his eyes flickering between you and the ground.

You sigh softly, knowing this question would come. It’s something you gave a lot of thought, something that crossed your mind daily. “I don’t know, Tyson. I really don’t know. You really fucking hurt me, you know? I can’t just look past that, I need to heal from that,” you tell him. Tyson nods his head, a guilty expression on his face. “You made me feel worthless every single day. You didn’t even give me a second of your time day after day. All you cared about was being away. Being away from me?”

It’s right that moment Tyson interrupts you by grabbing your hands. “No. No. That’s not true, you need to believe me,” he tells you as fast as he can.

“But how can I believe you when you never gave me a reason to? Your actions showed me exactly that, Tyson. I need answers, I need to know why,” you exclaim, starting to panic again, your anxiety taking over.

“Easy, baby. I’ll tell you everything you want to know, everything you want, but right now I need you to breath. Breathe, baby,” Tyson says softly, trying to calm your shallow breathing back down to normal. “Listen to my breathing, try to follow the way I breathe.” You do as he says, following the rise and fall of his chest, gaining back control of your own breathing.

“I’m sorry,” you apologize, while Tyson just shakes his head at you, letting you know it’s okay. “Can you take me home, Ty? We can talk later, okay?” you ask him, suddenly feeling the need to crawl underneath the covers of your bed and just simply sleep for a while.

“Anything you want, y/n,” Tyson says, leading you out of the room and back to his car. You’re pretty sure he mumbled something under his breath, something very closely resembling ‘your home isn’t there, it’s with me’.

The drive to Gabe takes longer than expected, giving you more time to think about Tyson’s earlier question. You still need and want to know how he spent his nights, where he spent his nights, and why he acted like you didn’t exist. That conversation might need to wait until another day, you aren’t up for any more information, any more realizations, you still need to process everything you heard, saw and felt today.

Tyson stops the car in front of Gabe’s house, looking back at you with hopeful eyes. You know he still hopes he gets an answer to his earlier question, and you want to give him at least that. “You need to show me you changed, Tyson. Show me you changed for real and I’ll try to get past everything that happened. I can’t promise you anything,” you tell him softly, meaning everything you just said.

Tyson nods his head, a smile of relief on his lips. “I will, I promise you I will show you I changed and that you’re everything to me. I promise, baby.”

So that’s exactly what Tyson does the next few weeks, every free moment he tries to show you just how much you mean to him, without smothering you. Whether it’s taking you out for dinner, although you’re still waiting for Tyson to actually make you dinner by himself one day, to small coffee dates and fresh flowers at work. It’s been a lot to process, a lot of adjusting to this ‘new’ Tyson, or rather seeing the ‘old’ Tyson again. And you missed him, God you missed him so much.

Tyson seems happier, more at peace with himself these days, it’s a pleasant change. Often you wondered what was really going on inside his head, but you stopped trying after he waved it off again, and again, and again. The late night phone calls, or facetiming during road trips have become a habit again, something you didn’t think you would ever experience again with him. You still take things slow with Tyson, deciding to rather allow yourself to slowly start trusting him again than diving head first into a relationship again. Maybe it will never come that far again, you don’t know how the future will look like for the two of you, but for now it’s enough.

You come face-to-face with a smirking Melissa when you get home from yet another ‘iced coffee and donut’ date, even though you’re pretty sure Tyson isn’t allowed to eat any donuts. “Oh no,” you groan at Melissa’s expression.

“It’s time we have a little sister-sister conversation, don’t you think?” she asks you, ushering you into the living room.

“Do we?” you groan again, not in the mood to handle whatever Melissa wants to talk about now, because you already know it’s either about you, Tyson or you and Tyson.

Melissa flops down on the couch, patting the place next to her, indicating for you to sit your ass down. “Did you already talk to him about it?” she asks, straight to point in pure Melissa-style.

You let your head fall back against the cushions, sighing loudly. “I didn’t. We’re doing great, we’re having fun. I’m going to ruin it if I start asking questions again.”

Melissa stays quiet for a minute, trying to figure out the right way to approach this sensitive topic. “You know you deserve the truth, right? You can’t rebuild a relationship when not everything’s on the table, sweetheart,” Melissa says softly, knowing you’re struggling with this.

“I promise I’ll talk to him after the road trip, I don’t want to create any unnecessary negative energy before,” you promise Melissa, although she gives you a ‘who are you trying to fool here’ look before switching topics.

A few days later you find yourself back at Tyson’s place. It’s weird being here, knowing you don’t live here anymore. Nothing changed, absolutely nothing, Tyson kept everything the way you did, whether it’s out of laziness or out of hope you’ll come back on day. Either way it’s weird coming back to a place that’s no longer your home. You came here to talk, nothing more nothing less. You promised Mel you would, and if you’re being honest with yourself it’s time to know the truth, time to reopen old wounds and finally get some answers. You’ve grown closer and closer to Tyson, without knowing everything, without knowing you’d be able to forgive him if he ever made a misstep. It’s time.

Tyson has been a nervous wreck ever since you called him last night after he returned from the road trip to St. Louis. He knew this was coming, but he prayed you would simply forget, even though he knows that’s not fair at all. He can’t excuse his behavior, and he won’t, not anymore. You deserve nothing but the truth, the full truth. He’s not proud of it, but you leaving him opened his eyes, showed him he really needed to change. Tyson feels like that’s something he truly did, he changed for the better, he can only hope you’ll feel the same way. He can only hope you’re still on the same path after tonight.

“You did great these last games, Ty,” you smile at him. You’re proud of the way he’s been performing these last couple of games, he really stepped up his game.

“I know you didn’t come here to talk about my performances on the ice, so can we please skip the pleasantries?” Tyson sighs, catching you completely off guard with his rather harsh approach. “Fuck, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it that way, I’ve just been so fucking nervous since you called me,” Tyson curses, frustratedly brushing his fingers through his curls.

“You’re right though, I did come to talk. I think it’s time we lay all our cards on the table,” you tell him, nodding at your own answer.

You nervously bite on your lip, playing with the cup of water in your hand. It isn’t every day you ask your ex these questions. Questions you want the answers to, question you maybe don’t even want to hear the answers of. “I need to know if you cheated on me, Ty,” you blurt out, keeping your eyes on the ground, not wanting to see the look on Tyson’s face.

“Look at me, baby,” Tyson says, urging you to look up at him. “I never cheated on you, I wouldn’t do that to you. I promise.”

You shake your head at him, not knowing what to do with these emotions surging through your body. “It doesn’t make sense, Ty. Where were you all those nights? Where were you every time I lay in bed alone waiting for my boyfriend to come home? Waiting if he actually comes home this time or stays out all night again? Where were you?” At this point you’re past the civil conversations, past the friendly banter, you need answers, you need to know why he did what he did. The reason doesn’t even matter at this point, you need to know why. Why did he leave you alone so many nights, worrying about his well being, worrying about if he would come home at some point?

“Fuck, y/n! I know I fucked up, I know I did. But I swear on everything, I swear on my career, I swear on you that I never, never, touched another woman. I never kissed another woman, I never even danced with another woman, I did not cheat on you,” Tyson exclaims, hoping, praying you hear what he’s saying, that you’ll believe him. He didn’t do anything with another person, it was always you, it still is only you and he’ll do everything in his power to prove that to you every damn day.

“Then where were you, Ty? If you weren’t with another woman, then where the fuck were you every night you didn’t came home? Please enlighten me, because I’m so lost, so fucking lost,” you say, feeling utterly frustrated with yourself, with Tyson, with this shitty situation.

Tyson takes a deep breath, placing his cup back on the table. “Shitfaced drunk to the point I couldn’t even remember my own name, or so stoned I saw freaking elephants running all around town. Spending my money on unnecessary shit at clubs and bars, all to forget, trying to forget the fact that I had a perfect girlfriend waiting for me at home, while I did stupid shit. Fuck, this sounds even worse out loud than in my head,” Tyson groans, burying his face in his hands.

“But...,” you start, before Tyson cuts you off.

“I felt ashamed and guilty, y/n. Ashamed I let it get that far every time, guilty I didn’t tell you, guilty I didn’t come home again. One of the guys would just take me back to their place out of sympathy, letting me crash on their couch, trying to sleep off my haze.”

You try to come up with words to say, with anything but nothing comes out, you just feel.. empty? “I don’t understand, Tyson,” you say, at this point not even sure what you don’t understand.

“I tried, y/n. I tried to just come clean, but I couldn’t when you were so nice all the time, I couldn’t when I knew you would hate it, hate me. You know I’m a fucking lightweight, that makes it even worse. But those are no excuses, there aren’t any. I fucked up,” Tyson sighs, giving you a sad smile, “I couldn’t face you, I didn’t know how to show you my vulnerable side without letting it change the way you saw me. I didn’t want you to see me any different, but I didn’t notice I changed until you packed your bags and left me standing in the doorway.”

You’re absolutely speechless, there are so many things you want to say but you can’t form any sentences, any words. You just stare at him, your mind racing with an unlimited amount of thoughts. “Are you okay, baby?” Tyson asks softly, reaching out to put his hand on your arm.

You shake your head from side to side, wiping away the tears that spilled out. “I’m not okay, I’m definitely not okay,” you tell him. “I feel terrible knowing you didn’t feel like you could come to me, like you couldn’t talk to me. I’ve always been your biggest supporter, nothing would’ve changed that, Ty.”

Tyson gently wipes the tears away from underneath your eyes, scooting closer to where you’re seated. “Come here, baby,” he softly says, opening his arms for you. You hesitate for a second, not knowing if this is the right thing to do. Fuck the right thing, you definitely need a hug right now, and judging by Tyson’s facial expression he needs one as well. You lean forward, putting your arms around his neck, breathing in the familiar scent of his body. How long has it been since you hugged each other? You can’t even remember, way too long. Tyson closes his arms around you, pulling you as close as possible to his own body.

“I missed this, Ty. I missed you,” you confess, the feeling of his arms around you, the feeling of Tyson, bringing back so many memories, so many happier times.

“I know we still have a long way to go, but I hope we’ll do this together. I can’t even tell you how great it feels to have my arms around you again, even if it’s just for a moment,” Tyson says, after you both let go of each other.

“We do, but I’m in if you’re in, Ty,” you agree, wanting nothing more than to work through the issues you still have. It’s time to forgive, time to let go, time to change and time to move on.

“I’m all in.”

The talk you had with Tyson that Wednesday evening did wonders for the both of you. You still had a long way to go before you were even remotely close to where you used to be with Tyson, but the most important thing was that you were working on things. Slowly, but steadily the two of you worked on trusting each other again, telling each other important things again, just simply working on being in a healthy relationship again. Although the word never came up, you were nowhere near ready for that commitment, so you settled on something less intimidating. Friends.

It was supposed to be a regular, normal Friday evening with just Melissa and the kids. Gabe and Tyson were playing one of their most important games this season, both of them begged you to come, but it was too late to find a babysitter. Not wanting to be by yourself there and leaving Mel alone, you decided to sit this one out as well, promising to cheer them on in front of the tv. It’s the least you could do. So there you are, seated on the couch wearing your Jost jersey for the very first time again, just as you promised. Weird, like nothing ever changed, even though the exact opposite is true.

You’re bouncing a giggling Linnea Rae on your knee, looking down at her adorable mini jersey. “Look it’s your daddy!” you exclaim excitedly, pointing at the closeup shot of Gabe.

“Daddy!” Linnea Rae giggles just as excited.

You catch Mel softly smiling at your little interaction with her daughter, enjoying the love you share for each other. It’s been a blessing to have you around here, the way you care for her children, but also for her and her husband has been phenomenal. Mel couldn’t wish for a better friend, for a better sister than you.

“Oh no,” you whisper when Tyson gets slammed hard into the glass. Melissa grabs your hand, squeezing softly.

“He’s going to be fine, he’s a tough guy,” she says, trying her best to comfort you. And he is, like the tough guy Tyson is, he gets up again, shaking off the hard hit. The game continues and you’re glad Tyson is fine, skating like he didn’t just get squeezed between a glass wall and a 200 pound hockey player.

All goes well until Gabe decides the best place to smack his stick is directly against Tyson’s face, again. “Not his face, Gabe! Not his fucking face again!” you yell at the screen, thanking Mel for already putting the kids to sleep.

“Shit, that looks bad,” Melissa almost whispers, squeezing your hand again.

You don’t know many things for sure in life, but you sure as hell know Tyson will be spotting a black eye for weeks. But like the tough guy he already proved to be, he just goes on with the game, trying his absolute best to work as hard as he can, giving himself completely to the game, anything to get his team the victory.

“That’s the second time you gave my man a black eye, Gabe. Why do you keep hurting him?” you whine the second Gabe walks into the living room. For a moment the room stays awfully quiet, until you realize what you just said. “I really said that, huh?” you ask, fighting to keep the smile off your face.

“You sure did. But I’m sorry, it was an accident. Again,” Gabe chuckles, shrugging his shoulders.

“Uhu, again,” you say, rolling your eyes at your best friend.

Gabe grins at you, flopping down on the couch next to Mel. “I’ll try not to hurt his pretty face again, okay?” Gabe laughs, shaking his head at you in a playful way.

“Is it weird if I, you know.. went over to check up on him?” you ask your friends, suddenly insecure about the thought of just showing up at his door.

Gabe gives you a soft smile. “I’m absolutely convinced he’d love that, y/n,” Gabe says, pulling Melissa closer to him.

“I know he would, sis,” Melissa agrees with her husband.

“Fine, okay. I’ll be back in a few. Don’t enjoy yourself too much,” you tell the two lovebirds before finding your stuff and almost running out of the front door.

You’re giddy the entire drive to Tyson’s apartment. This could go two ways, either it goes extremely well or this backfires completely. You’re hoping for the first one. Seeing Tyson get hurt gave you some realizations. One of them is that you absolutely hate to see him hurt, and you want nothing more than to be there for him, care for him, to tell him everything will be alright. Which brings you to your second discovery of the evening: you still love him, you’re still completely and utterly in love with Tyson. You can’t, really can’t imagine your life without Tyson in it. It’s your turn to tell him you need him, tell him you don’t want to do anything without him, tell him you still see a future together.

You pick up his favorite comfort food on the way over, cake. You know his nutritionist will hate you for this, but he deserves a treat after taking a stick to the face. You chuckle to yourself when you think of the small cake you bought, it’s stupid and childish, but you love it. The fun you already had makes it absolutely worth it. You park in front of the building, hopping out of the car and quickly making your way over to the floor Tyson occupies.

You rummage around in your coat pocket for the lighter you bought alongside the cake. Quickly placing the cover back into the bag, and lighting up the ‘2’ shaped candle. You snicker to yourself, enjoying this way too much. You knock on the door and patiently wait for Tyson to open up. You hear Tyson approaching, making it harder and harder to keep your composure.

The moment he opens the door his face shifts from slight annoyance, to confused, to happy, and back to confused again. “y/n?” he asks softly, looking between you and the cake, confusion clearly written all over his face.

“Happy second black eye!” you yell, before bursting out in laughter.

Tyson can’t help but join you in your laughter, if there’s one thing he loves about you, it’s your wicked sense of humor. “You really are something special, aren’t you?” Tyson chuckles, shaking his head softly at you, a smile playing on his lips.

“You tell me, Jost,” you say, giving him a wink before walking past him and inside his apartment.

“So you bought me a cake?” Tyson asks you, looking over your shoulder to the cake on his kitchen counter.

“I sure did, thought you’d deserved a treat after what Gabe did to you, again,” you laugh.

“He sure likes to hit me in the face with things. But thank you, this really means a lot to me, baby,” Tyson softly says, squeezing your hip with one of his hands, before grabbing two plates. While Tyson cuts the cake you look for something to drink, deciding water will do for the night.

You flop down on the couch next to Tyson, immediately bringing the fork with a piece of cake to your mouth. “Oh God, that’s so good,” you moan out, you picked some killer cake.

“Don’t make those noises, please,” Tyson groans, stuffing his face with cake.

“I’m sorry I picked such a good freaking cake, mister,” you laugh, nudging him with your foot. Tyson rolls his eyes playfully at you, grabbing your foot with his free hand before you can nudge him again and again.

“Movie?” Tyson asks after you both finished your plates, although Tyson finished the last few bites of your piece. Like he said he’s a needy and hungry man.

“Sure, but just something light and funny, Ty. Nothing dark,” you tell him, knowing he’d love to scare you throughout some horror movie.

While Tyson scrolls through the movies, you make yourself more comfortable on the couch, laying back against the cushions with your feet against Tyson. He looks at you, scanning your body, clearly thinking about something since his eyebrows keep furrowing and relaxing.

“Come here, Tyson,” you softly say when he finally picks a movie to watch, opening your arms for him. His eyes shoot to yours, like he can’t actually believe you just told him that. He gives you a quick smile, before moving towards you, laying down beside you.

He rests his head against your chest, just like he used to do so long ago, his arm wrapped around your waist. “Is this okay?” he asks you, making sure you aren’t uncomfortable, even though you’re the one who suggested this.

“It’s perfect, Ty,” you reassure him.

Halfway through the movie you can’t resist the temptation to run your fingers through his curls any longer. Tyson groans softly when your nails rake over his scalp, sending chill through your body. “That’s so good, please never stop doing that,” he groans out, pulling you tighter against him.

“I wasn’t planning on it, Ty,” you tell him, smiling at the way his eyes shoot to yours.

“You aren’t? Are you serious?” he asks you quietly, eyes still locked on yours.

“I am, love. I came to the conclusion that you’re worth all the risks in life. You’re my light, my guiding light in darkness, my light at the end of the tunnel,” you say, leaving a soft kiss on his forehead. You try to express your emotions towards Tyson, trying to make him feel what you felt when you came to the sudden realization he’s worth taking a risk.

“What does that mean, baby?” Tyson asks you softly, an uncertain smile on his lips.

“It means I’m willing to give us another shot, another go. I want to try again, Ty.”

You can’t help the smile that forms on your lips when you look at Tyson’s face, the realization setting in, the happiness and the gratefulness spreading all over his face, the relief flooding through his body.

“How does that work?” Tyson asks again, clearly trying to rid himself of any insecurities, any questions he has. You gladly take those insecurities away from him.

“A clean slate, completely starting over again to give us both a fresh start. How does that sound?” you ask him.

Tyson nods at you, the happiness radiation off him. “A fresh start, I like the sound of that,” Tyson muses. The changes on his face fascinates you, it seems like he goes through a whole range of emotions in just a few minutes. Until he reaches one you know all too well, mischief. He looks at you, the familiar glimmer in his eyes tells you he’s definitely up to something. He sends you a soft and sweet smile, that almost melts you into a puddle right there and then. “Hi, I’m Tyson,” he says, extending his hand to you. You can’t help the laughter that bubbles out of you, this is exactly how Tyson is. Funny, charming, an absolute dream.

“You’re a goof, you know that?” you tell him, softly shaking your head at him, but the big grin on your face tells him you loved that. Tyson intertwined his fingers with yours, squeezing softly. When he doesn’t make any other moves you take matters into your own hand, slowly leaning in and softly pressing your lips on his. The familiarity, the rush of emotion flooding through your body hits you like a ton of bricks. The feeling of his lips against yours light something deep inside of you, and just like that you finally feel complete again.

[missymurphy1985]

Reminiscing

Warnings - tooth rotting fluff... And smut. Obvs. Bit of a Daddy Kink thrown in cuz why the hell not?

Taglist (message me to be added!)

@queenshelby @peakyscillian @ntmynouis @margoo0 @janelongxox @being-worthy

You sat in the large armchair, in the big bay window of your Dublin home, blanket over your legs, as you immersed yourself in the latest John Grisham novel. Your husband was out, dropping his sons off back at their mum's after spending the weekend with you. You couldn't help but pinch yourself on a regular basis. Gorgeous husband, amazing young stepsons, even Cillians ex-wife, Lisa, was someone you considered a close friend - the split had been amicable, and she'd encouraged her sons with Cillian to welcome you with open arms. You even met her for lunch a few times a month, much to Cillian's surprise. He was more concerned the two of you were comparing notes than anything else!

Hearing the front door open and close, he smiled as he re-entered the room. Leaning over to kiss your lips, he sank down onto the sofa and picked his own book up from the coffee table.

"How was Lisa?" You asked, taking a sip of your coffee.

"Good - she said she'd call you later, something about a girls night out next week."

"Sounds fun - I'm up for that." You nestled down snug in the chair and continued your chapter. You could feel his eyes looking your way, and smiled internally. You loved the way he just watched you when he thought you couldn't see.

The way your legs hung over the chair, blanket covering your lower half. He smiled, remembering the day you met at the aftershow party for his latest play in Dublin. He was hesitate to go, but the director had convinced him. You were the director, Enda Walsh's niece, and you'd gone along to support your uncle's latest stage production. You knew who Cillian was of course, not that it bothered you. Working as a stagehand part time at the theatre in your teens, you'd met plenty of famous people over the years and frankly most of them were arrogant idiots with egos the size of Jupiter. Cillian was different though. Down to earth, sweet, kind, normal. Neither of you particularly looking for love, but sometimes it happens in the most unlikely of places.

Flashback

"Cillian, this my niece y/n. Y/n, this is Cillian, the star of the show!" Enda introduced the two of you and Cillian smiled, leaning forward to embrace you softly and kiss your cheek.

"I've heard so much about you y/n, nice to put a face to the name." You couldn't help but feel butterflies looking into those blue eyes, and without you realising at the time, Cillian felt exactly the same about yours. You'd spent most of the evening from that point talking about the theatre and what you each loved about it - from the lighting and production side to the audience reactions during the live show itself. You'd seen Cillian in the show three times, you'd been mesmerised by his performance, but this was the first time you'd met him.

The music changed as the night was drawing to a close. A slower number, and the other cast members and production team all took their respective partners to the dance floor. You were both now sat pretty much alone - clearly the only single people in the room!

"Would you like to dance?" Cillian asked, sheepishly. It suddenly felt a little awkward. You looked at him surprised, but found yourself nodding as he offered you his hand and led you to the dance floor. You could feel your uncle's stare as Cillian placed one hand on your waist and took your hand with his other, both of you gently swaying to the music. He was a smooth dancer, never missing a step. No toes clashing together, and the awkwardness melted away as you looked into each others eyes. The rest of the room suddenly becoming an afterthought.

"I've really enjoyed talking to you tonight y/n."

"Me too, you're not like the other actors. You're... Normal!" You giggled lightly.

"I'm boring, you mean?" He laughed in response, you could feel his fingers caressing your waist softly as you continued to sway.

"How'd you feel about dinner one night? We can talk more about how boring we both are?" That smile again.

"You're on. He pulled you a little closer, your cheeks inches apart. He desperately wanted to kiss you there and then but with your uncle a mere few feet away he didn't dare. He knew you were 28 to his 40, and he wasn't sure how his friend would react to it.

"You two seemed to be getting on well?" Enda approached you after the party, and he couldn't help but notice the glow around you after your dance with Cillian. He'd gone to the bathroom.

"He's a nice guy Uncle E, we have a lot in common."

"You know he's 40, and has two kids, right?"

"Uncle -"

"Cillian! So you're taking my niece out for dinner are you?" He returned from the men's room and froze.

"Um.. I..."

"I'm kidding... God you're too easy to wind up!! Have fun!!" Both of you audibly sighed in relief.

"He's an ass..." You smiled as Cillian offered you his arm to link into.

"I have a car outside, I'll drop you home?" You nodded, taking his arm.

You both sat in the back, the driver being given your home address as Cillian pushed the visor up between the driver and you. Privacy. He took your hand, leaning back and kissed the back of it gently. You smiled - your first kiss, but not where you wanted it.

"He can't see us, right?" You asked. He nodded and pulled you closer to him. "So..." Leaning toward you slowly, he gently ran a thumb over your cheek and pressed his lips to yours. You returned the kiss. His mouth opening slightly to gain access to yours, your tongues soon met. It quickly became heated before Cillian pulled away.

"You wanna go home?"

"You want me to go home?"

"Nope."

"Then I'm not going home." Cillian pulled the visor down and told him you were both going back to his house instead before pulling you back against his lips.

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

The memories of that first night were as clear as if it had happened only yesterday, not two years ago. It was so good that you both often got yourselves off to the thought of it when Cillian was away working. Two years on and your lives were simply idyllic.

He made his way over to you in the chair and kneeled down next to you, running a hand under your summer dress and squeezing your thigh.

"You know, I've been thinking..." He leaned closer to your ear, making you squirm. He knew the effect his voice had on you and he played on it daily.

"Dangerous..." You smirked, and he responded by tracing kisses up your back, his hand still teasing under your dress, over your now damp underwear.

"All this house.. and just the two of us.. seems a waste, don't you think?" His fingers gently moving your panties aside and slipping between your folds. Instinctively you opened your legs, granting him access.

"Hmmm....." Your hips rising slightly to meet his fingers. "Are you saying you want a dog, Cillian.."

"Funny, y/n... No.." his fingers were torturing you, caressing everywhere except where you needed him to be.

"Wanna fill me with your baby do you daddy?"

"Hmm.. call me that again..." He smiled, his erection now painfully pushing against his jeans as he dipped a finger inside you.

"Do we have a Daddy Kink, Cillian? Does making me full of your baby turn you on?" You tried to retain composure as a second finger entered you, his hand now pushing them in and out slowly.

"Fuck... Stand up." He ordered and he immediately pulled the dress over your head and your underwear down. Swiftly followed by his own clothing, before he lay you down on the sofa.

"Guess we won't be needing a condom for this then... Fuck me daddy - give me a baby..."

"Coming right up..." He kneeled back down next to you and parted your perfect legs, before sinking two fingers back inside, rubbing your clit with his thumb. It wasn't long before you were writhing under his touch, calling his name as you came hard against his hand. He moved over you, quickly turning you over so your pert behind was up in the air and you were gripping the arm of the sofa in hot anticipation. He pushed inside, feeling you for the first time without a barrier - no other contraception had suited you, so you'd stuck with condoms - and he groaned as he filled you completely.

"Jesus... God yes.. right there Daddy...." He picked up the pace at your words, thrusting into you like a man possessed.

"Fuck this is tight baby... I'm not gonna last long like this..."

"Fill me up Daddy.. make me pregnant.. give me your baby..." He couldn't hold back after that, and came hard, filling you and sending you into your second orgasm. Breathing heavy, he stayed in until he was completely spent - not daring to waste a drop.

"Lay on your back y/n... Legs in the air.." you did as he asked, confused. "Helps the whole process apparently."

"So you meant it then?" You smiled as he knelt beside you again, swirling a hand over your belly.

"What, that I want to see the love of my life's body swell with my baby inside? Damn right I meant it y/n.. nothing would make me happier than a baby with you." You were grinning now, as he leaned in to kiss you.

"Love you Cill."

"Love you more mama." The sound of him calling you that made your heart swell. You couldn't wait to hear your baby call it you too.

[capricorn-stark]

Othello

pairing: jason todd x reader, reader is a psych major because i think the concept of psych majors in Gotham is funny lmao

warning: i wrote this at 1 am, kinda short, swearing

a/n: i got strong feelings towards Othello, The Catcher in the Rye, and Jason Todd, but this one’s for @tadpole-san smirk smirk smirk

part 2

You liked studying at Gotham University’s library for the ambience. 

Whether or not you got any actual “studying” done depended wholly on your mood and whatever being that may or may not have been watching you from above, but even if you somehow managed to procrastinate the entire time you were there, at least you could walk back to your dorm with the comforting fact that you had gotten in your cardio for the day. 

The place itself was gorgeous with its overarching ceilings, long hall lined with pillars supporting a seemingly endless array of books, the cozy golden glow of the lights, and the generally pleasant atmosphere provided by the myriads of students sitting around its tables and lounging on its couches. The entire campus was stunning - but it would only be surprising if it wasn’t thanks to the very generous grants from patrons of the Gotham elite, most notably people like Bruce Wayne.

You had a particular spot you liked near the edge of the library, in a little corner mostly surrounded by shelves with enough space for a few usually-unoccupied couches. Aside from you, the only regulars to sit there mainly just consisted of one other guy who recently had started to drop in every few days or so to listen to music and do his own work. You didn’t mind him - he never bothered you, and you both kept up your mutual solidarity towards maintaining a very comfortable silence.

That was, until one particular day.

“Is that Othello?” You glanced over the book in your hand and saw the guy’s startlingly green eyes gazing right at you over his dark-rimmed reading glasses. He wasn’t wearing his earbuds as per usual, so you figured your agonized sigh of boredom must’ve come out a little too loudly. 

“Yeah,” you finally answered, slowly lowering the book a little. “Unfortunately.” He cracked a slight grin at that.

“What, you’re not a fan of Shakespeare?” 

“I don’t hate him,” you started with a fairly nonchalant shrug, “I just think this book in particular is just kinda-”

“Boring as fuck?” he finished very eloquently, causing you to grin back despite yourself. 

“Yeah. Pretty much.” 

“I can agree with that,” he said with a nod towards the book. “Definitely not one of my favorites, that’s for sure. Good premise, dynamics were pretty interesting, but I couldn’t really get into it either.” The fact that he was discussing Shakespeare’s works in a way that suggested he had fully read the book (without wholly relying on CliffNotes) and that he did perhaps genuinely enjoy some of them suggested to you that he was probably an English major. “And Iago was a bitch-”

“I know!” you nearly exclaimed, throwing your hands up in very evident frustration. “Iago was shady as hell, and I don’t get how Othello never saw it coming from him. Like, no one can be that oblivious, come on. I wouldn’t have listened to him.” RIP to Othello, but you were different. 

He was actually laughing at that point, shaking his head in disbelief. 

“You and me both. You an English major?” You shook your head, holding up your Psychology Twelfth Edition textbook that had been resting on the table beside you.

“Psych.” He raised a brow and you inwardly sighed.

“Jeez - at GU? I’m impressed.” 

Being a psych student at your particular Gotham-based university was both a blessing and somewhat of a curse. The classes were phenomenal and your professors consisted of some of the best and most experienced in the nation - but that also came with the downside that the city you lived in had some of the biggest psychopaths and the largest insane asylum in the nation as well. 

Well, you win some, you lose some.

“It’s not that bad,” you tried to say, but the smirk playing at his lips proved that you weren’t convincing anyone. “Let me guess, you’re an English major.”

“What gave it away?” he deadpanned, chuckling regardless as he closed up his own book and extended a hand out. “Name’s Jason Todd. I’ve seen you around a lot, but we never really talked, huh?” You smiled as you reached out to shake his hand, introducing yourself as well.

“I guess not. You usually look like you’re pretty busy.”

“Something like that,” Jason grinned, leaning back against his chair and sliding off his glasses. Without them, the lights somehow gave them an almost glowing effect. “I figured you wouldn’t want me to bother you.”

Bantering over Shakespeare with a cute boy wasn’t exactly your definition of being bothered, so you shook your head.

“Believe me, that was a lot better than Othello was.”

You saw Jason at your spot again the next day, then the day after and the next, lounging across from your couch and always seeming rather out-of-place with his black leather jackets and ripped jeans, but a welcome sight to you nonetheless. And just like that, suddenly, your visits to the library weren’t just for the sake of cardio and the ambience anymore.

He was surprisingly amusing to talk to, whether it was complaining about more books for your respective English courses or just ranting to each other about the struggles of being a student at GU. It was easy to bond over things like getting your midterms interrupted by random threats from the likes of the Riddler, or arguing over whether or not the city’s latest vigilante, some guy named Red Hood, was actually cooler than Batman himself. 

He had been particularly passionate about that last debate.

Aside from being easy-going and annoyingly attractive, you also figured out that he was ridiculously smart, especially when it came to helping you with your English course. Whether it was explaining the deeper societal message behind a particular reading or helping you research topics for your thesis, Jason had a knack towards figuring out exactly the things you yourself seemed to struggle with. 

“How do you figure all of this out?” You asked one day out of sheer disbelief after he connected The Catcher in the Rye to themes of disillusionment about innocence and one’s childhood, and not just towards the protagonist, Holden, being an ass. “Seriously, I thought I was pretty decent with this stuff, but you blow me out of the water.”

He shrugged it off like it was no big deal, sliding off his reading glasses and setting it on top of the wooden table you were at. You had grown fond of the way they looked on him.

“It’s nothing special,” he dismissed in response, lifting his gaze from the book to fixate it back on you. “You do great by yourself, I just kinda give you a little push with my interpretations.” 

He did that a lot - downplaying the fact that he was actually smart as hell like it really was no big deal. The way your grades had started rising after he started helping you out proved otherwise, though.

“Still, thanks for helping me out,” you insisted, eliciting another slight smile from him. “It means a lot.” 

“Oh yeah?” His tone had gotten cheekier as he leaned closer to you. “How much is a lot?” 

“That’s up for you to decide,” you smirked, moving back and closing up your laptop. “Not me.” 

“You know, if you really wanted to thank me, you should get a coffee with me sometime.” 

“We get coffee together like every week,” you deadpanned and he sighed.

“Not like that. Like a date.” 

It hit you like a truck.

“A date,” you repeated, like you hadn’t heard him the first time. 

“Only if you were into that,” he added, trying to play it cool as he moved to pack his things into his bag. “I’m not working tonight, so I thought you might wanna give it a shot.” That was even more surprising, because he always happened to have a mysterious night shift going on. He never told you what exactly that was, aside from off-handedly mentioning something about motorcycles and Crime Alley every once in a while.

You were still letting it process. 

“...if you don’t want to-”

“No, no - that sounds great,” you interjected, already starting to smile. At the sight of it, he managed another grin himself, an evident hint of relief flashing across his face.

“Right. Yeah. Cool.” He cleared his throat and shot you another grin as he tossed his bag over his shoulder. “Let’s head out. And I’m telling you right now, I’m not letting your broke ass pay for it.”

“Jason!” you protested as he laughed and nudged your shoulder with his, making you join in despite yourself.

At least Othello had managed to lead you to one good thing.