#like hey so long as maybe you do it without....well they did also physically assault him in the end so really no limits obviously

[unproduciblesmackdown]

take 4: the tension (gulf spanned with incomplete, continuously crumbling bridges) between the perspective of oneself as the Deservingly Epic Winner Protagonist Person who dares to be Out Of Line versus the need to actually completely stay in line within this b/c it hinges on being in harmony with the preexisting hierarchies which will supposedly reward the "merit" of this Actor. while everyone whose existence is Inferior, according to the hierarchies, is defined by being Out Of Line, which these same people resent & respond to, also Staying In Line with the hierarchy, by trying to reinforce the dynamics of these inferior / superior groupings. "everything pathologized about the inferior groups / rejected as what's Wrong with their existence so as to "cause" these dynamics is "take 4" b/c this is from me trying to write about winston quant kid 2 billions like holy shit a series operating on this logic huh, giving this unvarnished expression of this perspective b/c it's assuming (& requiring...) we all have it. winston is constantly responded to as Guy Who's Out Of Line. the "superior" parties who hate him & get to have him as their punching bag / hit with the butt of the joke / at least ignored & excluded, but taken advantage of, but who all have to Stay In Line, how's that going for them even when it comes to the writing, where characters can't do anything if it's too disruptive of the In Universe hierarchy, unless it's a finale zone for a permissable shakeup, where ppl insulating/supporting each other being a bit Out Of Line is not a problem b/c they individually recognize each other's transcendently True worthiness in thee objective hierarchy we all assume exists, but definitely can never disrupt the out of universe hierarchy, e.g. the show decides wendy is the true hero, b/c she deserves to be. taylor has to hire back dollar bill & stand back while wags & wendy take the lead & the spotlight & hate the autistic guy they hired & show up so the Winner, who was written into the show with nothing to do but tell taylor they're not quite as good as wendy & then provide a vagina amidst otherwise being an Everyemployee who fails to even differentiate from an Axe Cap style everyemployee, can announce their winningness detached from anything that actually happened ever.

counterpart to winston's departure needing an audience of people to stand there & stay in line, which on that side of the same coin meant punishing his Out Of Lineness that doesn't even act like anyone bothered to think of [this is one particular preexisting guy. you thought he liked scifi once before you lost interest in even suggesting he has interests, though, will roland likes scifi, will roland wore his own open buttonup as quant kid 2 that'd define the Look, will roland happened to have the facial hair just kept for production b/c who would care, will roland brought the entire je ne sais quoi acting interpretation that made quant kid 2 go from "out of line guy we kill once" to "out of line guy we keep around to kill all thee time until finale 'haha but seriously though' material means pushing him out of the way in s6 & then s7 alike" like hmm] like everyone just spitballed "annoying things! cringe loser things! things that would never happen to me, a deserving winner!!" & put it in as easter eggs as though that would even make sense, much less [you have no other priority?] but like. rian's sendoff didn't do any better for acting like she's a specific character who's said & done things we're meant to remember & have thought about then & now. taylor didn't get to have resolution with philip. they Had to have resolution with wendy that, again, has nothing to do with any/everything prior, except perhaps to contradict it. this is what anyone got for Staying In Line like superior winners. the autistic [annoying arrogant inferior undeserving etc] Out Of Lineness that would be so supposedly admired instead seen as pure Other shit that's projected upon ppl so as to Reject it thusly. couldn't be me!! i'm a winner who will always have Superior ranking in the hierarchy & treated accordingly!!! i Must be!!!! like i must Kill people who seem to be disrupting this, even by acting like a person who assumes they're equal to me despite being Different. there all along like wow winston existing Out Of Line is so powerful. he can harmonize with & support taylor so well b/c they're introduced as being so Out Of Line, up to the inevitable point of breaking out & starting their own thing entirely!!! but while it's like, okay yeah, you Have to reel them back in by thwarting them b/c otherwise they break so far from central men's orbit they exit the series or you have to put Them at the center (imagine...) (plus! the role winston plays in them getting as close to this as they ever can be!) but then in the end taylor's just shortchanged b/c when it comes time to take down a central man as thee main thing all season, series finale style, they should be knocking it out in a few episodes with sacker & philip. instead we focus on wendy given the helm & fucking around all season. after disposing of winston b/c who even needs him for anything, this is Stay In Line times, and to do that we can do nothing w/autistic people but hate them & punish them for being undeserving. but don't worry b/c he doesn't get to be so Out Of Line as to easily cause problems for them & thwart them, b/c he just doesn't. taylor waits around on wendy & tells her she's the best b/c they just do. we are all in line on all of this ourselves so whew, there's no Disruption to notice if that key Alignment is maintained. rian was never holding herself Above winston if we just really tentatively suggest she doesn't think that she was, while letting every double standard at play be acted out. rian being "out of line" was that she wasn't being aggressive enough about any of her Superiority, b/c if you didn't leave bruising then nothing was That Bad; cue the assaults and boundary violations Reserved for the inferior losers as fun times & nothing anyone is beholden to with Consequences, we don't even make the viewer stick with the consequences of how it affects the target a second too long, lest you start to think it's Drama & not Jokes.

anyways it's all about the [categorization as inferior Other based on an assumed Hierarchy = inherently defined as Out Of Line] all "why get a formal diagnosis from a professional who doesn't know what to look for when at age 5 my peers went 'something's wrong with this one' & acted 'accordingly'" like even when people "know" what's Wrong with someone to make them the odd one out / "incompatible" w/what makes others exist Right, it's time to interpret everything else about them as "backing that up" no matter what, certainly no matter if it involves theoretically Valued concepts, b/c it's all first & foremost Staying In Line with the hierarchy, where the correct way to do things is: if you Can push someone else into greater vulnerability while you're established as Insulated, you Do. tl;dr winston inherently continuously Out Of Line; being "superior" requires an ultimate (&/or also quite Immediate. especially when it comes to "simple" matters already "correctly" arranged in the supposed Objective Hierarchy, like: winston's "objectively" inferiority (autistic swag)) Staying In Line. and what comes of it. all the most engaging & complex shit when people get to not actually stay in line. the power of it if taylor & tmc & allies didn't have to ultimately be shoved into Staying In Line even when it means wendy is the best & oh who cares about taylor & philip when wags is around etc etc. if winston being someone Out Of Line was seen as relevant & not an easy nonstop joke. while a quant who is so In Line as to correctly personally abuse him even more than others are doing is so ""out of line"" as to decide she's already gotten everything she wants & may as well live the dream now, b/c she's not an aggressive man, one has to suppose, same diff as wendy getting to believe she's Better than everyone & is nobly in charge of orchestrating their fates when she Means & Knows so well, & is somehow pitted against prince being this same figure but without having to confront that fact. he's mean! or whatever. he's talking about killing people & wendy isn't so that sorts it out forever. "abuse your local autists; it's funny & their fault & consequenceless b/c they're not real people" is also harmonious with all our ideas. edgy rulebreaking bold independent Out of Line heroes completely in accord w/the established hierarchies. & those whose existence threatening peership disrupts it who are written off losers who could never upend those heroes' goings on. everyone Actually being peers is unimagineable, not as a figure of speech. we do not imagine it, what are you even talking about. now for the Merited Hierarchy to be acted out as arranged, which is fun, god i wish that were me. Independent Agents ascending it only!! & people who Cheat to get in like loser nerds w/their math, b/c they can't Deserve it. now to keep insisting that everyone else could just be On My Level if they tried, while also responding violently if it seems like weirdos / ppl who aren't Supposed to be here are infringing on my level (the only violence is physical strikes that made contact, & perhaps killed you)

anyways just another installment of [fake fans haunted by billions, & other things which are in real life, such as the fictional series billions] musings i have to excise at all b/c [this was take 4]. winston Out Of Line. superior correct winners who have to Stay In Line at related great costs despite the supposed associated wins of that. his autistic swag. knowing ppl Are different autism style b/c they're "out of line." encountering irl autistic people without realizing it & repeatedly writing "this nerd guy is just So annoying ugh!! he's just like weird & doing everything wrong for no reason & won't just Be Normal or Shut Up & Go Away!! but at least his intractible arrogant cluelessness also means we have fun punishing & taking advantage of him" Type butt of jokes into things. those cringe loser Insistently Annoying Weirdo nerds who we all find insufferable & punish, we all know them, inherent Inferior Other Out Of Line that they are. now it's a Guy we all hate & enjoy seeing suffer & Understand as a less deserving less [person] just dropped into the periphery of this fiction. he will easily be thwarted from an alliance with the [person designed to be Out of Line in a way that Is considered Legitimate] that would let them shatter the limits of the series in 5 sec which we're also holding them back by the scruff of the neck to prevent anyways while pushing forward ppl supposed to be even More correct b/c uh um they're a little more Normal, & perhaps even Women, who are innately more caring & gentle. there they go hurting those around them as much as they can, with nothing stopping them at all, but they're using their inside voices & not issuing physical threats so that's what i'm talking about. that is heroic, vs the villainous efforts to navigate life as though everyone will respect them as a fellow person which Autists egregiously pull, to which you can do anything you want to Reject this. maybe even decide you wanna personally use them. isn't that nice of you. no, we don't know what to do with the "this guy won't stop acting like he gets to think he's a person" but eventually send him away after the dozen trampled boundaries to punish him for fun b/c what else was the point of him? anyways don't worry i saw the autistic swag. the nonbinary swag it didn't even know was there. the nonbinary swag it knew was there but held back by the scruff of the neck b/c all billions' most engaging, potential filled characters are the ones Held Back b/c they're threatening too much [out of line] / their out of Lineness must be contained; vs everyone perfectly in line who keeps being pushed in front of them no matter what b/c uhhh.

let's go Out of Line gang. continual inevitable Disruption of the norm(tm). like even just standing there vs "oh immediately i fucking Hate this guy." billions where anyone considers winston for 5 sec would also shatter apart. taylor would be too powerful even more than they already are if they didn't have to stay wendy's sidekick no matter what. rian who didn't have to come back from the hiatus even more "right" than they presumably intended her to always be (bound to thee hierachy / actually always Staying In Line. if she's out of it, psych, actually that was just a correction of the "objective" hierarchal order waiting to reconfigure itself around the situation). standing around waiting like okay but the payoff that Could happen....okay still time though lol....well here we are

the fundamentalness of the Out Of Lineness. quantessential....send post

[retroellie]

The Weight of the World

Summary: the horrors of the world are once again nipping at you, decisions that could lead to deaths lay upon your shoulders. Daryl wants to cheer you up in the way he knows you love.

A/N: I know it’s late but I wanted to post another Daryl fic because I’m a whore for him :) This is kinda sloppy and I made in like 2 hours on very little sleep so hey :) enjoy <3

Warnings: NSFW, mentions of torture (regular twd things) , dirty talk, unprotected sex

Word count: 3.7K

This week has been exhausting, mentally and physically. Your body felt as though someone had piled pounds of bricks on top of you, all the while scratching at your bruised skin. It was draining you of your emotions and ability to function. The whisperers were gaining on Alexandria, the threat of the hoard being released floating over everyone’s heads. This caused panic and worry, the walls wouldn’t be able to withhold them and the people inside couldn’t fight them off.

This led to everyone in the council, you and daryl included, to make some hard decisions. Everyone that ran the town was on their toes at all times, always looking for answers to every problem that threatened the town you called home. These problems led to you having to take care of alphas daughter, trying to hunt down Negan and now you even had a whisper tied up underneath your home. You were barely getting any sleep, barely eating and you had no time to spend with Daryl which meant your relationship wasn’t doing the best.

Obviously Daryl understood this, he was also dealing with shit and didn’t have time to do anything for himself. With trying to locate the hoard as well as trying to keep Carol from killing everyone, he had his hands full. The way this was affecting you hurt him though, seeing your exhausted eyes, all red and puffy all the while you were trying to come up with a plan to hunt down negan… it pained him. He was used to having so much on his plate that this didn’t affect him too harshly, he could go days without sleep and only live in crackers but you weren’t like him.

He tried to tell you to get some sleep and even tried to force some food down your throat but you didn’t have time. He just let you take your time because that’s all he could do, is wait for you to realize that none of this shit mattered. You would always find a way to get everything back to it, it always worked out for y’all so Daryl wasn’t too worried about you going sleepless and hungry for too long.

For now though you trudged up the stairs to your shared home with Daryl and Carol, or pretty much everyone who came and went a lot. You were exhausted and honestly disgusted at what you just did. Before this moment you had watched carol beat the ever living fuck out of a whisperer and you even got a few punches in there. This didn’t feel like you, you weren’t the type yo torture someone and you were even the one who was strongly against it. Well that’s until the man started talking, he gave strong details about what he’d do to you if he was a free man and found you in the woods.

You were mad, you couldn’t help but lay him flat on his ass and maybe you even took a few fingers with you. But right now though, you told Lydia to make herself at home. You made her comfortable in your guest bed room, giving her blankets and towels for if she wanted to wash up. After that though you walked downstairs to the basement to yours and Daryl’s shared room.

When you stepped foot into the room you saw Daryl, he was unpacking his backpack, setting his crossbow and bows down. You stared at him for a minute, wondering what he was thinking. He did just see you torture a man, well a man that was talking about sexually assaulting his girlfriend. Daryl has done things he’s not proud of, he has seen the dark underbelly of people but what was he thinking about his “innocent '' little girlfriend doing those same things.

You shook your head, walking towards the coach and plopping down. You laid your head back, trying to stretch out your stiff muscles and shake the exhaustion off tired bones. You sighed, putting your feet up on top of the coffee table as you shut your eyes for a split moment.

“You need sleep.” You heard Daryl say, not turning around to look at you.

You looked over at him, seeing him mess with his backpack. You rolled your eyes slightly, you hated when he said that. It was maybe the 30th time you had heard those words come out of his mouth and everytime it annoyed you. I mean how could you rest when everything, the fate of Alexandria, the protecting of your friends, the capturing of the man who killed your friends, was all on your shoulders.

“Yeah…” was all you said, you didn’t feel like protesting.

You sat up, starting to untie your shoes. They were muddy and covered in blood. Come to think of it, you were covered in blood. The whisperer's blood still streaked your clothes, still fresh but it was starting to dry on your skin. You quickly took off your boots, not wanting to think of the horrors you just did and just wanting to lie on this couch with no worries, if that was even possible. When you succeed with pulling your shoes off you stand up once more, pulling off your bloody sweater.

You lifted it up to see all the blood had stained it, still bright red and standing to attention. You rolled your eyes, throwing it over to the dirty clothes basket and then making your way to the dresser that sat right next to the table Daryl stood at. You dug through the drawers, trying to find another shirt you could wear.

Daryl couldn’t help but watch as you dug through the drawers, watching your bra covered breast heave up and down. He knew it was wrong of him, seeing you in such a distressed state and getting all hot but he couldn’t help it. While you both were neglecting your relationship, your sex life hadn't been much better. So the slight glimpse of your unclothed body would send Daryl in a mood of wanting your touch.

You found a shirt, a clean band tee that you’ve had forever now and you stood in the mirror that laid against the wall. You could see yourself in your entirety now. The blood had stained through your clothes and onto your stomach along with your chest but also you had new bruises forming which added onto the pain of your exhaustion. You didn’t even hear or see Daryl sneak up behind you, you were too focused on your blood soaked body right now.

He had crept his hands around your waist, being careful as to not press too hard onto your newly formed bruises. You jumped slightly before remembering he was in the room with you, then you melted back into him.

“Even all bloody and smelly, you’re still the most beautiful girl I’d ever seen..” he whispered, taking one hand and moving your hair from your neck.

You chuckled as his lips attached to your neck softly. He kissed the spots that made you nothing but putty in his hands, your eyes closed slowly as he did wonders with his lips. His hands gripped onto your hips softly, rubbing soft circles on your skin. He tried to be careful with your fragile body, knowing you could take anything that comes your way but wanting to be the one thing that made you feel like you didn’t have to try.

His lips attached to your neck, biting down lightly on the spot that made you gasp. You pressed yourself into him, your ass grazing his hardening cock. He let out a soft groan, biting down harder onto your soft skin. One of his hands made their way up to your breasts, needing one of them in his hands gently. This caused you to throw your head back onto his shoulder, moaning softly at the sudden touch.

He sucked harder on your skin, your reaction fueling his actions. You couldn’t deny how touch starved you were, how weak in the knees you had gotten when seeing Daryl in his button up shirts, all sweaty and dirt streaked his face. This was hell to you, not being able to be with him every day. It ate you up inside and Daryl knew it, there just wasn’t enough time. It was either you were gone or he was gone or Gabriel asked you to do this or Carol asked Daryl to do that… it was never ending. Moments like this you basked in them, you soaked them up and right now you were going to take it.

“What you did to that man…” he spoke in between his kisses.

The hand in your hip lowered down to the top of your jeans, unbuttoning them slowly. His actions were drawn out, going as slow as he could to take in the moment with you.

“Seein’ you like that… so angry and aggressive” he continued.

He unzipped your fly, giving you feather-like kisses on your skin now. His fingers danced above your panties, teasingly slow as you grabbed onto his hand that was continuing his movement on your boob. Your body had turned burning hot and he was the only one that could cool you down now.

“I think that might’ve been the hottest thing I had ever seen you do…” he admitted, slipping his fingers into your panties before teasing your slit.

Daryl watched you from a far as you beat the living hell out of the whisperer, watching him beg for you to stop as you put the blade against his throat. You were angry, you hadn’t been this angry in a long time and the anger just kept building up until you couldn’t handle it anymore. He watched as your arms flexed every time you threw a punch, making the blush on his face more noticeable. He was so in love with you, with everything you did even something so disgusting like what you were doing.

You’re finger dug into his hand, practically begging him to touch you without even saying anything. He chuckled lowly, giving you everything you wanted and more. He shoved two fingers in you without hesitation, making you gasp out into the air. The feeling of the delicious stretch blurred your senses, leaning more on Daryl than you already had been. It had been so long since you two have had such an intimate moment like this, weeks maybe a month at most. The stress of it all really affects your desire for intimacy but your love never dulled.

You bucked your hips against Daryl’s fingers, your wetness already making a mess out of them. It didn’t take you long to become a quivering mess, your moans trying to escape your mouth but being swallowed back down. You were embarrassed at your sensitivity, you were well respected around town for being so high headed but all it took was Daryl’s fingers to show what you really are… a needy little whore.

“Come on honey… don’t hold up on me now.” He whispered in your ear, biting your lobe lightly.

Daryl curled his fingers in a rough way, grazing your g-spot.You bit your lip harder, not wanting the two girls who were just above you to hear what was happening just below them. Daryl grinned at you, knowing exactly what he was doing. He sped up his movements, thrusting his fingers deep inside of you before curling them to graze your spot again before continuing to thrust deeper inside.

Your body felt like it was on fire, your blood streaked skin turning bright red and your face had a small sheet of sweat that coated it. You wanted more of Daryl … no not wanted, you needed it. You could cum with just his fingers now but you wanted all of him inside you, you wanted to feel him so deep inside you that all the horrible things that man said to you were far gone and all you could think about was how good Daryl’s cock felt inside you. You were nobody’s bitch but Daryl’s, no matter if you admired it or not.

“Daryl… please.. just fuck me… SHIT.” You yelled out at a particular delicious angle that Daryl hit.

Daryl didn’t hesitate to your surprise, with his fingers still deep inside you, he walked you over to the desk that he was once sitting on and slammed you on top of it. You felt your bruises as he did so but it felt so good, you didn’t mind it.

“Dirty slut… so needy for my cock” Daryl hissed, taking his fingers out of you and quickly shoving them in your mouth.

It took you a minute to register what was happening, your body still aching from injury but when his fingers hit your tongue and you could taste your own juices… you sucked them clean. Daryl’s free hand grabbed your hair, pulling it into a makeshift ponytail so he could pull you up to watch as you sucked on his fingers.

“You like that hmmm..???” He teased, shoving his fingers deeper into your mouth until they reached the back of your throat. “You like when I treat you like the whore you are hmm… so cock starved for me?”

You licked every crevice of his fingers, loving the taste of yourself mixed with Daryl’s flesh and all Daryl could do was watch you. He subconsciously rubbed against your ass, getting insanely hard just watching you.  You moved your head to the side, looking at him with puppy dog eyes. He took his now clean fingers out of your mouth, watching as a single piece of your saliva connected the two.

“I just want you inside me Daryl!!” You started bucking your hips back onto his hard cock. “Please, I’ll do anything!! Just please fuck me until I can’t stand, in anyway you want too just please!! I want you!!” You pleaded

You sounded pathetic you know but you were desperate for him. You have wanted him so badly for weeks now, the sexual frustration building up until just now when all you can think about is him rearranging your insides. Daryl grinned, pulling on your hair tighter. He thought about all the ways he was going to make you suffer tonight, thinking about how he’d fuck you silly until everyone in the whole town could hear and he couldn’t wait to make his thoughts a reality. Daryl moved his hand down to your pants, ripping them off your legs and then started to remove his own.

“You're gonna wish you never begged me hun…” he said, unbuttoning his pants and pulling them down. “Because I ain’t going to hold back…”

Daryl moved his hand from your hair to your neck, wrapping his hand around your neck before tightening his grip. He lined himself up to you, teasing your entrance slowly, getting his cock nice and wet so he could fuck you nice and smooth.

“Gonna fuck you until your just a cock dumb whore…” he whispered, putting small amounts of pressure on your neck.

You bucked your hips back at him, wanting him inside you already and he was going to give you what you wanted. He shoved himself in you quickly, feeling your velvety walls along the way could make him cum just then. He held himself back from going at an animalistic pace, trying to allow you to adjust to him since it had been a couple weeks. You swore you could feel your eyes go cross eyed, he was in you so deep right off the bat.

He stayed there for a moment until he couldn’t take it anymore, he needed to fill you up, he needed to fuck you until you couldn’t think straight. He pulled himself almost all the way out before ramming into you nice and deep once again. He kept his slow deep pace for only minutes until his hips began to have a mind of their own and started thrusting into you wildly.

His hand on your throat, the table digging into your hips, his cock filling you… it was enough to send you off of earth completely. You couldn’t stop the moans escaping your mouth this time, they fell out of your lips like honey and Daryl basked in them, they only encouraged his movements.

“God…you’re so fuckin’ tight…” he spit out, his free hand exploring your body, making their way to your bra that had somehow still been on.

He grabbed at one of your boobs, feeling the soft flesh beneath his fingers as he played with it. This sent you to overdrive, you were so close to an orgasm and Daryl knew too but he had no intentions of stopping. He only sped up his actions, fucking you at such a fast pace you were cumming in mere seconds after that.

The orgasm ran through your body, leaving you shaking and unable to stand properly. Daryl kept his pace, only slowly down when you clenched around him tightly, making sure you were okay but then keeping up with his same pace before. You didn’t want him to stop, even after orgasming once you still craved the feeling of him filling you to the brim.

His hand on your neck tightened more once again but this time he brought you up, pulling your flush against his front. Brought you into a kiss, a sloppy wet kiss that had no real rhythm to it. Teeth masked, tongues collided and lips were bitten. Daryl’s hand on your boob hooked around the cup of your bra, pulling them down along with the straps.

“Lemme see those tits hmm…” he hummed in between a kiss.

Your tits bounced free which caused Daryl’s attention to be turned to them. The way they bounced every thrust made Daryl feral, he couldn’t take it anymore. He pulled out of your for only a split second, taking the time to flip you over onto your back and placing you on top of the table.

Your reaction was delayed due to your post orgasm brain fog but also you being on the verge of yet another orgasm. Daryl spread your legs as far as he could, spread you out so deliciously for him and than he went right back to fucking you. Your head cocked back, resting on the wall as your face was stuck in a look of pure pleasure.

“Daryl! Please.... FUCK... cum inside me....” you screamed out, wrapping your legs around his waist basically pinning him inside you.

Daryl thrusted harder and harder, his hips becoming more wild as he came closer to his orgasm. You pulled him closer to you, kiss him roughly as you pulled his dark locks. You were so close to your second orgasm when Daryl came deep inside of you, his cum filling you up so nicely. Daryl’s hips slowed but still continued to fuck himself through his own orgasm while also brining your closer to your own . You bucked your hips into his as your brain was once again taken by a earth shattering orgasm that almost knocked you clean out.

You felt Daryl twitch inside you as you came, his orgasm wiping him out as well. He stayed close to you as you saw stars, his hand rubbing your back softly and comfortably. You were shaking violently underneath him, his cum along with yours mixed onto the table and created a sticky mess. You two stayed silent for a minute or two, taking in the stillness of the room.

It was moments like this that you would choose over anything. Moments so intimate yet so filthy, it was pure heaven to you. Daryl felt the same, he would give anything just to be able to be in this moment forever. You comfortably stroked Daryl’s back with your fingernails, pulling him close to you.

“I missed you…” Daryl whispered

You had been here this whole time, you guys never left each other’s side… you had made an agreement not too a long time ago when you first met in Atlanta. Daryl couldn’t explain the way he missed you though, you were there but you weren’t THERE to him. Only a stressed out shell of what you used to be. He can’t blame you, you’ve been through a lot these last couple of months and he’s been with you through it all.

“I’ve been here the entire time dar…” you spoke, voice worn and almost gone.

“No I mean.. I missed YOU… I missed the Y/N I have always known.” He explained

He didn’t mean that in a mean way but he just knew that this world changed you into a person you weren’t and he could start to see it happen to you. The shy little book reading girl you once were was disappearing and being replaced by this emotionless woman. He loves you for every version you were but he wanted to see the real you and not the one the world has forced you to turn into.

“Well… you Daryl Dixon, are the only one who can ever bring me back to earth…” you stated. “And that’s why I’m so pathetically in love with you.”

Daryl smiled, pulling you into a long kiss that this time felt more romantic and less sloppy. You knew the decisions you still had yet to make were just right out your door but for now you would like to bask in this moment with your lover. You could worry about the horrors of the world later, it can wait and it can be put in pause so you can make this night yours.

[traumasurvivorshelpingsurvivors]

Tw domestic abuse, sexual assault, suicide, self harm and eating disorder mentions (those last two not in detail, just mentioned)

Nickname: turquoise

Looking for advice, either on how to get out or just come to terms with this being the rest of my life, either way.

So I have a situation kind of similar to this ask posted just now.

https://www.tumblr.com/traumasurvivorshelpingsurvivors/712807834009665536/tw-romantic-partner-violence-hey-so-ive-known

I've been with my wife for seven years now. A lot of her issues come from childhood trauma, but it's just...been wearing me down lately. Nearly from the start there were emotional issues between us, and physical violence and one sexual assault within the first six months (she said I agreed to let her do stuff while I was asleep but I don't remember that, and either way she didn't stop when I asked her to). I'm honestly not sure why I stayed but that's neither here nor there. Maybe I kept thinking it would get better but it didn't and at a lot of points I was genuinely scared for my safety, especially since the one time I did try to leave she found me in under a day and the friend I'd run away to decided I should go back home with her since, in her words 'well, you are kind of a bitch'. Anyway, there would be times when things got better but they'd always get bad again. We're in one of the better periods, though recently there's still been a lot of emotional stuff, some minor physical stuff (only small bruises and no lingering pain) and two sexual assaults last week. Still, things have definitely tapered off from a couple years ago, and she has been putting in more effort to be nicer, so if nothing else it's been a while since I've been balled up on the floor trying to be a small target so that's something. Still, as much as I should be happy about that I just...honestly I feel like shit a lot of the time, and I can't seem to stop being on edge no matter what happens, even though she gets mad at me whenever she notices that.

Also over the past two years she's developed significant anxiety, to the point where even after being on meds and in therapy for over a year she says she can't work.. We have no income now and I have a lot of my own mental difficulties that have made jobs difficult for me for most of my life (not self dxing, but likely autism and ADHD and a PD that have never been treated, along with a lot of past trauma from her and people before her, that's she's sometimes triggered on purpose or been dismissive of, though she is trying to stop that), but more difficult since I met her, especially since I've spent the past year at least in one of the worst depressive episodes I've had in my life, with my self harm and eating disorder getting worse again (both of which she knows about and does not respond well to at all), to the point that I'm pretty much always passively suicidal and have attempted a few times. At the very least I'm out of the bout of drinking I dealt with for a few months. I'm not outlining this to make anyone feel bad for me, just to point out that a full time work week, especially in the kinds of fast paced, people centric jobs I could reasonably get, would be very difficult for me to handle at this point. I've asked her if we could both work part time, since I thought a few days a week for each of us would be easier to handle, and at first she said yes but now she's flat out refusing, saying that since she supported us for a while she deserves a long break too, completely glossing over how often she hit me during that time and how generally shit she made me feel every day, or the fact that the abuse didn't stop when I went back to work, or that the circumstances that led to it being best for only her to work in that time were out of our control.

Basically, I want to leave. Ideally I'd just leave her, but she says she can't survive without my support, and that she'll kill herself if I actually go. I don't know if that's true or not but I don't want to find out the hard way, but I also know I can't handle both working full time and taking care of her full time (she refuses to do anything at home or to manage and organize our lives either, sometimes to the point of yanking me out of bed after only a few hours of sleep to make her food even though she is able to cook, arguably better than me).

Im basically never happy, and I want to leave but I can't, not with the way she is mentally now, not with what she might do, especially since the only person I know she could go to is her mother, who wouldn't be accepting of her being trans which isn't something I want to put her through. I've been thinking of asking a friend or relative of mine (what few I have left after she isolated me for so long, since I can't drive and for years she's been in charge of if I leave the house or not, which she rarely lets me do), to let me stay with them during the work week, since it would be easier to find and keep a job that way. I'd have limited contact with my wife, only seeing her on the weekends and preferably not talking much during the week, but still with me supporting both of us.

I don't know if she'd go for this, or even how to ask, but I know I can't handle dealing with both work and her and my own issues at the same time. I've tried to say this a bit and she's said I'm just being whiny and lazy, so I just don't know what to do or how to fully broach the subject, but I'm just so scared for the future between us in general.

I'm sorry this was a long post my thoughts are just not organized sometimes. Thank you for everything you do.

Amendment from turquoise. Abuse mention.

I just really wanted to clarify that I don't want anything I said about my wife to be attributed to the fact that she's trans. I don't think any of the mods of this blog would do that, but I just worry that others would, or that it came across as me saying her abuse and her gender are somehow connected but I swear I don't think they are and if anything came across that way I never meant for it to. I know most trans people don't hurt others (not to mention I'm trans myself but that just didn't seem relevant, still not sure if it is here)

Basically I just hope I didn't paint an entire group in a bad light and I really didn't mean to if I did sorry I was just worried about that.

Hi turquoise,

I'm so sorry about what's been going on. Also, I wouldn't worry about potentially coming off as transphobic, I don't get that vibe at all and I see what you mean to say quite clearly.

Just because the abuse has been tapering off doesn't mean you should tolerate it. Being assaulted violates your boundaries, and it's important to respect and assert them. Just because it's tapering off doesn't mean you're supposed to be happy in this relationship. It makes absolute sense why you still feel like shit. You're on edge because you may have developed trauma responses and you're around someone who your brain has been conditioned to perceive as a threat.

Emotional availability is essential for the longevity of a relationship. For your partner to not be there for you or respond well to depressive episodes or even suicidal thoughts is definitely a problem. I feel like if she truly cared about you she would make a better effort to be there for you, especially when you're contemplating suicide.

It sounds like your partner is refusing to share the responsibility of any productive or reproductive labor, which puts unnecessary stress on you. Just because she's been working doesn't mean you have to do everything. Most people just continue working without breaks, you know? So how is it fair for her to refuse to work when that means no income? It would make more sense if she was overwhelmed with burdens, but she really has pushed virtually every responsibility of hers onto you and is expecting you to be absolutely fine with that.

It seems like you've tried communicating with her but she's given you a hard time. If it is safe to do so, it may be helpful to simply assert a boundary such as "I feel x when you do y. If you continue to treat me this way, this isn't going to work." Just letting her know where things stand may be helpful in terms of communication, but if this would be unsafe to do, then it may be best to simply leave without warning.

Like I said in the other ask, if she is going to choose to mistreat you then it is your right to leave if necessary. It's a hard decision though of course, because you don't want her to go back to her abusers, but really, that's not your problem. If you need to leave then you need to leave, where she goes is not really for you to worry about. It's important to assert your boundaries and put your foot down when you've had enough, even if it doesn't benefit everyone.

Abusers often block the exit in various ways, and that can include threatening suicide. Please know that it is manipulative for someone to blame suicide or self harm on someone else. It is your right to leave when you want or need to. Your partner's actions are her responsibility alone. Breaking up does not hold you liable to what your partner chooses to do as a result.

If anyone else has any comments or suggestions, feel free to add on. Otherwise, I hope I could help. Please let us know if you need anything.

-Bun

[dysfunctionalmaki]

To Realize

Main Masterlist

Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Stark!Reader

Summary: Natasha's been connecting all the dots about how she feels about you, it's up to her to how she'll handle the situation.

A/N: This was supposed to be a oneshot until... I wanted to base it on the whole Black Widow movie :"))

Warnings: none, let me know if there's any.

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Your last interaction with your father didn't go well, he simply told you that Secretary Ross is now after you and Natasha after helping Steve, and Bucky to get in the Quinjet while T'challa was after them.

Quickly tackling the king of Wakanda on the ground, while Natasha shot something at him to give Rogers and his friend time to take off, as soon as the jet flew away, you removed your arms that are restraining him.

"Your father will hear about this, and you too Miss Romanoff." The exact words that came out of T'challa, and now you're on the run with Natasha, considered as a global fugitive.

Your father looked at you with disappointment when he mentioned that Ross will be chasing you and the latter, you looked at Natasha before she took your hand and leading you out, taking you to who knows where.

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆

"You miss your daddy?" Natasha spoke while driving, you chuckle at her words then resting your head against the car window. "Hmm, kinda, so what are we doing here in Norway?" You ask the latter.

"Well, you've noticed that Ross is after our asses after assaulting the King of Wakanda, and helping Steve and Barnes escape the airport, I believe we should lay low, right?" She propped her elbow by the window, resting her head on her knuckle as she drives with one hand. "Oh? I didn't know that." You replied sarcastically, making Natasha roll her eyes.

"What I mean is, why Norway of all places?" Now you're kindly asking, arms crossed over your chest and slowly drifting off to sleep, exhausted after hours of traveling, without Daddy's private planes, sports car, and Quinjet also.

Natasha noticed how your voice softens, a long yawn coming out of your mouth, and quickly glancing at you. "Ross has no jurisdiction here, his boys would stay away from here for the time being." She answered, you softly nodded and replied with an 'okay' almost a whisper with how silent it was.

In a split second, you're already fast asleep at the passenger seat, both arms hugging yourself and your head resting against the window. Nat maintained her eyes on the road as she attempts to reach for a blanket she stashed in the backseat, after few shifts in her place, the Russian managed to grab the cloth.

She gently placed the soft blanket over you, and now focusing herself on driving, for some reason, she has always felt this warm feeling in her heart when she's alone with you, adoration maybe?

Your peaceful state while you're in deep slumber, and hearing your soft snores as she admires the view of the landscape, she would offer everything she has just to stay like this most of the time.

The thought caught her off-guard, why would she want to spend all of her time with her friend's daughter? She shrugged the thought off from her mind, she knows what love feels like, she felt it with Bruce until Hulk decided to drive off somewhere they won't find him.

She did get sad because of it, but she chose to move forward and move on, successfully removing any romantic feelings for Banner, focusing on her work as an Agent and an Avenger.

But why is she feeling this way with you? Her heart melts when she sees you getting all excited when you've successfully upgraded your techs, how she would automatically smile when her eyes would catch you smiling, and how she feels warm when you're there to ease her mind when a mission didn't go as planned.

She's now connecting the dots, using the silence and peace surrounding her, she got time to think about herself and her feelings towards Tony Stark's daughter.

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆

After half an hour of the drive, you slowly wake up from your nap, looking around the surroundings you're in the middle of the woods, Natasha's still driving. "Good uhh... Evening?" You greeted Nat with your groggy voice.

Natasha stopped the car beside the safehouse, which is a caravan and you don't mind, you can't really call your father to get you a 5-star hotel to stay in. "Did you manage to replenish your energy?" She asked, unbuckling her seat belt and you did the same.

Getting out of the car, she has her gun out and you also have one on your hand, staying alert until both of you heard a loud snore in the room. Natasha immediately returned to her relaxed posture before heading into where the sound belongs, and she found her contractor sleeping.

Kicking his foot that is off the bed, the man immediately woke up. "You're sleeping in my bed." Natasha commented, "I'm not even under the covers." He replied, then his eyes trail at you, awkwardly looking away noticing that the two seemed close.

"I've got what you asked for, fake IDs, drivers licenses, and some VISAs, also for Miss Stark too, just like what you've told me to do." He says as he handed out the fake identifications to Natasha, while reading, the Russian frowned upon what she just read. "Really? Fanny Longbottom?"

"That is a legitimate name." He defended himself, them Natasha handed your fake IDs, taking a good look at them and you're amazed about how real they seem to be. "Thank you...?" You softly spoke.

"Rick, Rick Mason." He introduced himself, and you shook his hand also introducing yourself, with little chit-chat soon after the man left leaving you and Natasha alone.

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆

An hour has passed it's already dark out, you're currently sitting by the front door, knees up to your chest, and you already felt homesick, Natasha's company is nice honestly, but the feeling of being far away from your father and home sucks.

Natasha looks at you while you're way too busy gazing at the woods, she knows you aren't used to this type of setup, running away from authorities, and far from home, she felt bad for you.

She walks up behind you, making sure you're aware of her presence before placing a hand on your shoulder. "I'm going to watch a movie on my laptop, feel free to join me, I'm also eating the ice cream we bought at the convenience store earlier." She softly spoke before leaving you alone.

Minutes after, you finally stood up from where you are sitting and closing the front door, almost dragging your way to Natasha. Two bowls of ice cream in front of her, and her laptop already on, she was waiting for you.

You placed yourself beside her, head resting on her shoulder then she plays the movie on the screen, lazily taking a spoonful of the cold treat in your mouth, and eyes glued on the screen, but you weren't paying attention to the movie, you're spacing out.

"Hey, Y/N? Are you okay?" Of course, not, Natasha knows damn well you aren't okay, she thought that it's a dumb question. "Of course, why wouldn't I be?" You answered just like your father, she paused the film and causing you to look at her. "No, you're not okay, and that's okay." She says before taking you into her arms.

You're surprised actually, Natasha isn't usually the one who initiates physical contact but here she is, her arms wrapped around your body. You needed this, you needed to feel home and somehow being hugged by Natasha feels like it.

Burying your face at her shoulders then you knew you're melting in her arms, it almost brought the tears out of you, as if her touch is enough the lift the burden you've been feeling.

Natasha feels like home.

You try not to think anything about the affection she just gave, but damn, you think you'd go batshit crazy if you won't get to experience this again.

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆

Let's be clear here, you've had a crush on Natasha while she's still Natalie, then as soon as Fury revealed that she is some secret agent, you were so amazed that you started liking her, though she didn't contact after that.

You weren't part of the Avengers initiative, but you did join them in the battle of Sokovia, but she and Banner have a thing going on, so you've decided to set those feelings aside. Which you successfully did for a few months, and after Bruce flying who knows where maybe you can make a move?

So you did, you would jokingly flirt around Natasha, and your father would give a questioning look then you slowly back away, but you were also a great friend to Nat, it's just that you can't seem to get all romantic with Natasha.

Just as much of a playboy your father is, that's all his, you suck at this type of thing, so Nat probably thought you're just a caring and affectionate person.

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆

You gently pull away from Natasha's grasp, and she looks at you with her emerald eyes. "Better?" She asked, placing a hand on your cheek softly caressing your skin. "Much better, thank you." She smiled with your answer, the next thing you know is that you're way too close to her, and you're looking at her plump lips.

This would be a perfect time to make a move.

You hold the back of her hand that is on your cheek, slowly closing in, and Natasha is leaning closer, so near that you could feel each other breathing, just when your lips were about to touch hers... the power died.

Nat cleared her throat and awkwardly moving away, removing her hand away from you and she stood up. "I'm just going to check the power generator." She says before going outside.

Her face turned red as soon as she was out of your sight, she got way too vulnerable with you, she almost kissed you but she sure knows she's going to like it but no, not at a time like this.

She tried to get the power back on, only to find that there's no more fuel in the generator, she came back inside finding you eating ice cream in the corner, and probably waiting for her to come back.

"I'm going to a gas station, do you want to come with me?" She asked, you nodded before getting off your ass and bringing yourself into her car, there's this awkward tension between the two of you, and as soon as she started driving, the silence swallowed the two of you.

"Can I turn the radio on?" You asked her, she simply nodded while eyes fixated on the road, you played the radio, and Sia's Cheap Thrills came on. "Damn, even here? When is this song going to die?" You commented.

Natasha taps her fingers on the steering wheel according to the beats, despite hearing the song over and over whenever you would turn on the radio, you still liked it.

Midway through the song, you felt chills on your body, and as soon as you look at the window beside you, suddenly you see an RPG heading towards the car.

"Nat—" Before she could react it has already hit the car causing an explosion, now the vehicle is hanging on the edge of the bridge, and with one wrong move it'll head straight down to the water. "Ooh, fuck that hurts." Hissing as you try to collect yourself and trying to fight the headache it caused.

Natasha on the other hand is in pain and boy, she's mad. "I'm pretty sure Ross has no jurisdiction here, and you should know that I'm a better shot when I'm pissed off," Nat spoke before firing few bullets at the person, you look at her and biting your lip, finding her hot.

"Wow, that's hot..." You spoke under your breath but Natasha heard, glaring at you. "Really? At a time like this?" She says, before heading out of the car when you tried to get out Nat stopped you. "How long can you hold your breath?" She asked. "Last time I beat Sam it was a good 4 minutes and a half."

"As soon as this psycho comes close enough, I'll push you into the water, it's not after us." She says you look at her as if she's speaking lies. "Nat, I'm not leaving you here–" before you could protest, you felt her lips against yours it was quick but you know damn well, that Natasha kissed you.

"I'll meet you down there, I promise." She says before a shield comes charging towards her, and managed to avoid it, yet it hit the car, now you're falling off the bridge and you suddenly noticed a small case on her hand.

You quickly got out of the car before it could hit the water, then you swam heading to safety where the one who ambushed wouldn't see you.

Closing your eyes hoping that Nat would come back to you in one piece, there's no way you'll let her die after kissing you, of course, you wanted to fight but your body just wouldn't.

You can't risk losing Natasha now.

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆

Next Part: To Remember

[whoree321]

Hey, I believe your requests are open, so, could you please write smth were reader and Tech are friends with benefits?

Also, I’m in the same dilemma as you, cause everyone already forgot tbb and I’m still obsessed??? Like, were is everybody excitement about the show, it was gone so fast…

Anyway, thank ya <3

hello friend! this is a delicious request and i am more than happy to oblige! i’m not sure if you wanted like pure angst or like sexy successful fwb but above all else i am a dirty dirty slut for happy endings so i went light angst, heavy fluff, mild smut to get a little of everything lmaooooo. this also got a little out of control and i’m not sorry.

and literally i am suffering so much in this ever increasing drought of bad batch excitement. like i feel like the person at a party when everyone else is tired and wants to leave who’s still just way too hyped and is like “NO WAIT GUYS LETS HAVE MORE SHOTS AND PLAY TRUTH OR DARE COME ON ITLL BE FUN”. i am in absolute agony. but anyways!

a mutually beneficial arrangement (tech x gn!reader)

it was purely sex. just two friends helping each other relieve some stress occasionally. just two friends who happened to have sex with each other. until it wasn’t.

warnings: fwb, mild smut, reader is gender/genital neutral but they are penetrated by tech (amab)

word count: no idea but it’s pretty long

***

In hindsight, it really shouldn’t have shocked you that this was how things played out.

It’s not like you’d ever been friends with benefits with someone before. It’s not like you didn’t know how easily you could develop feelings for people. It’s not like you didn’t know you were maybe just a little too interested in Tech non-platonically before any of this even started.

No, you knew all of those things going into it. You made the conscious decision to be the biggest dumbass in the galaxy.

When Tech had first suggested a friends with benefits situation, it seemed like a much better idea than it actually was. You had been assigned to Clone Force 99 for a few weeks at that point and had already developed fast friendships with all of them (Crosshair even sometimes acknowledged your presence with neutrality and that definitely felt like at least an acquaintanceship). You were closest with Tech, and one tipsy night at 79’s found the two of you making out in a hallway near the bathroom. You could still remember the way his mouth tasted like whiskey as he pressed you up against the wall

He paused his assault on your lips to look at you, breath fanning lightly across your face. You whined at the loss of contact, not noticing in your haze the intensity in his eyes as he studied you, as though if he took in enough of you he would have the answer to an imposssible question. He migrated lower, planting kisses and sucking lightly on your neck until he made his way to your ear.

“Have you ever heard of people being platonic sexual partners?”, he asked low in your ear. You shuddered at the feeling of his breath and the deeper tone to his voice before you answered.

“You mean like friends with benefits?”

“Yes, that is exactly what I mean,” Tech clarified as he moved to once again nibble on the sweet spots of your neck. Had you had a little more sense, you would have warned him not to leave any noticeable marks, lest you suffer the teasing of the rest of the boys.

“I’ve heard of it, I’ve never done it before though. Why?”

“Well, given our current circumstance,” his response was punctuated by his ministrations on your pressure points, “it may be mutually beneficial for us to enter into that type of arrangement.”

You stopped him for a moment, and lifted his face so that you could make eye contact. Tech stood up a little straighter, hands running up and down your sides lightly as he gazed down at you.

“You think that we should be friends with benefits?”

Tech nodded, one hand moving to brush a strand of hair out of your face.

“I believe it would be an advantageous relationship. We could have relations while still maintaining our successful platonicity, thus eliminating the need to alter the dynamic of the squad with the complications of some trivial romance. It would also be physically beneficial. Sexual intercourse has been shown to successfully alleviate stress, as well as…”

He kept going, explaining the health benefits of sex, but it was hard to pay attention to his rambling while you tried to clear your head of the alcohol and the intoxication of his touch and figure out where you stood on his proposition. In that moment, everything he said made total sense. Granted, that part about “trivial romance” stung a little, but you could still fuck him without ruining the squad or your friendship with him, and Maker did you want to fuck him…

Uncharacteristically cutting off his rant, you responded. “I accept your offer. I would love to be friends with benefits with you.”

Tech grinned, a lust forming in his eyes at the new promise of the benefits the night was leading to.

“Splendid”

From that (mind-blowing) night, sex became a very regular thing. A mission went poorly? Frustrated sex. A mission went well? Celebratory sex. The Batch got leave time? Vacation sex. The Batch hadn’t gotten leave time in too long? Cabin fever sex. It really had started out pretty platonically, but after the first few times you could feel yourself falling head over heels for him. You knew you should stop it, Tech would never hold it against you or be upset if you changed your mind. You told yourself again and again that you would just break it off with him, but then his hands and his lips and his body would be on you, and the hungry way he looked at you would knock the air, and any ideas of making him stop, out of you.

In your defense, it wasn’t like you were the one who had suggested it. Tech had to know the likelihood that your “platonic sexual relationship” would only stay platonic for so long. Actually, you were surprised he hadn’t done a little more analysis of the situation. If he had taken into account all of the factors (the rate of failure in friends with benefits situations, each of your levels of emotionality and past relationships, the effects of living and working in close quarters, etc), you can’t imagine he would have thought it was a smart idea. If Tech had crunched the numbers like he normally would, it wouldn’t have produced favorable results. So for him to want to do it anyway, or to not even analyze it beforehand, must mean he had some sort of feelings for you, right?

This was one of the various problem in your current situation. Tech would always do things that were just on the line between “friends” and “more than friends”. He would go out of his way to do little things for you, he would share info and jokes and side comments with you that he never tried to share with brothers, he would blush when you complimented any of his work, he would stand just a little too close to you or let his touch linger just a little too long. He would suggest a sexual relationship that was highly statistically improbable to be successful.

And while Tech offered nothing but mixed signals, you took it a step further and let those mixed signals fester in your brain until you had warped them into one very clear signal: he liked you as more than a friend. You were so sure of it too. Why would he do all of those things if he didn’t like you like that? It’s not even like he treated you like some one night stand when he fucked you. He cared about making you feel good (usually it seemed like he cared more about you getting off than him), he would clean you up after and you always stayed the night together, cuddled and whispering late into the night about nothing and everything.

There was nothing friendly about your intimate nights together, come to think of it. Friends that just fucked would never treat each other so tenderly or lovingly. It’s not that completely unbelievable to think you would accidentally blurt out that you love him. Tech should have expected that.

But it was out there, unfortunately. You had committed the cardinal sin of being friends with benefits and you couldn’t take it back.

Tech’s brutal pace never faltered as he pumped in and out of you, your moans growing louder and louder as you began to approach your peak. He gazed down at you, locking eyes, and the emotion you could feel behind them was overwhelming. You could tell that he was close, with all the experience you had with him you knew his body better than your own, and he brought his hand up to softly caress your cheek.

“You’re so beautiful. I can’t believe I get to see you like this,” he huffed out, brow furrowing as the rhythmic slamming of his hips against you brought him closer and closer to the edge.

At his words, you reached your climax, and as you came undone words of ecstasy slipped from your lips between wails of pleasure.

“Kriff Tech… ah…. Tech..fuck…I love you”

You didn’t even realize it at first, too caught up in the moment, but Tech did. His eyes grew impossibly wide, and he was finishing inside you before either of you could fully process what you had just said.

As you both came down from your high, the gravity of your admission settled between you. Tech pulled out and flopped down next to you wordlessly, and for a few minutes you both just stared at the ceiling in torturous silence. And then he got up and walked to the refresher, not even looking at you once, and you felt like that was all the confirmation you needed that you woefully misinterpreted your entire relationship with him.

You lept out of his bunk, threw your clothes on, and left as silently as possible, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill down your cheeks. At least you could spare yourself the embarrassment of your words in that moment, and both of you could just forget it and move on.

Of course, you knew that pretending it didn’t happen would be impossible. You told him you loved him, and he said nothing. For several minutes. And then hid in the fresher. That was a clear rejection, and while it devastated you, you were still hoping that the two of you could just move on and be friends like you were before the benefits were added.

Apparently to Tech, you had offended him beyond repair. He never spoke to you (unless it was specifically mission oriented), he rarely looked at you or acknowledged your presence, and he positioned himself as far from you as possible at every opportunity. It had been two weeks since your slip up, and he hadn’t even made eye contact with you once.

It was agony. You missed him. You didn’t even really know what it was like to be on this squad without keeping him company while he made repairs or asking him questions about the next place you were going just to hear him talk. You missed making snide jokes with him. You missed admiring the way his goggles magnified his gorgeous caramel eyes.

The other boys noticed the shift very quickly. They had suspected the two of you had some sort of arrangement, and they knew how close you were, so to see it change so abruptly was concerning. Hunter had tried talking to you about it a few times, but you just reassured him that everything was fine and it was nothing he needed to worry about. Wrecker and Crosshair tried to pick up the slack, and started filling in the holes in your routine that Tech used to occupy. Crosshair would sit next to you in the mornings and during briefings, sometimes trying to make little comments in your ear like Tech would. On missions, Wrecker would always aim to pair up with you, and afterwards would try to do something fun like find a sweet treat or rent a good movie.

You appreciated so much what they did for you. But no matter how hard they tried, nothing could take your mind off the wall of ice Tech had built between you. You loved the other boys, but trying to share happy moments with them when all you could think about was how much better it would be with him was becoming unbearable. You didn’t want to leave them, but you couldn’t stay with Tech being so close to you and yet lightyears away.

As you filled out your transfer paperwork, you chuckled wryly to yourself. Even without the “trivial romance”, the squad was still disrupted. In a bittersweet way, it felt good for Tech to be wrong.

***

Tech had really done his best to analyze the evidence and make an informed decision based on his findings. He had been crunching his numbers with you since the day you joined the Batch, after all. Back then, it was the probability of your attraction to each of them. Tech was fascinated with you, and right off the bat he wanted to know his odds- just out of curiosity of course (for the record, they were pretty highly in his favor).

He knew there were pros and cons to the possibility of a relationship with you. First of all, it was technically against regulation for any clone to be involved in a romantic relationship. Second of all, it was likely that such a relationship would have the potential to cause countless rifts and points of weakness among his squad (regardless of the relationship’s success). Then there was also the very possible chance that the relationship wouldn’t work out anyway, leaving both of you hurt and irreparably damaging your friendship. As much as Tech may have wanted you, the costs unfortunately outweighed the benefits.

But then he kissed you at 79’s. And you kissed him back. And there he was, kissing you at 79’s, memorizing the sweetness of your lips on his. And he knew he should stop. He had studied the data and it’s conclusions were not very good, and if he had any sense at all he would stop. But he pulled away and looked at you, took in the flush on your cheeks and the dazed look accompanying your dilated pupils and the swell of your bruised lips. And he couldn’t bring himself to part ways with you. So he offered the closest thing to a relationship he could think of: friends with benefits.

A friends with benefits arrangement would be a more than adequate solution, Tech had decided. He could be physical with you in the proper moments, and then outside of those moments everything would be just as it was before. The squad’s dynamic and mission proficiency would remain consistent, and technically no regulations were being broken since they only specified romantic relationships. Of course, it wasn’t truly what he wanted, but in this arrangement he would get to enjoy you so much more than he currently was.

Unfortunately, he had made a critical oversight. In the dim haze of the club hallway, Tech had only considered how casual sex would compare to a full blown relationship. He didn’t think to analyze it singularly. And he certainly didn’t calculate the logistics of a friends with benefits agreement when one of the friends in question already had romantic feelings for the other friend.

But Tech knew himself. He knew he could have feelings for you and not let them get in the way. He could accept what he was able to have and make peace with what he couldn’t. Casual sex seemed like a good idea when his emotions were the only ones he took into account.

He wasn’t expecting you to fall in love with him.

When you had said it, Tech thought his heart was going to stop right then and there. In the heat of the moment, he couldn’t have imagined more precious words falling from your lips, and instantly it had him spiraling over the edge into ecstasy. But then the moment ended, and you didn’t say anything. He wanted to end the silence, to find out if you really meant it, but his brain was moving too fast to figure out what to say because he really hadn’t considered this would happen. It was naive of him, he supposed, but he really had thought the two of you could have done it without the emotional complications. Part of him, of course, was thrilled, but the other part of him, the logical part, was thrown into absolute chaos at the implications of your statement and what it would mean and all the statistics and probabilities he had calculated and

And you still hadn’t said anything. Tech could see you out of the corner of his eye, face red and chest heaving with emotion. You looked embarassed, regretful, and the realization that maybe you didn’t mean it hit him like a brick to the face. Maybe it was just something that slipped out, something your orgasm-addled mind had conjured up against your will and now you didn’t know how to take it back, didn’t know the right way to tell him you don’t actually love him.

It was too much for him to process at once, and he ran to the refresher in the hopes that he could clear his head and actually think coherently about the situation for a moment. Tech couldn’t have been in there long, maybe a few minutes, just long enough to splash some water on his face, look himself in the eye, and come to the conclusion that he needed to just have a conversation with you instead of playing with hypothetical numbers in his head. But then he came back out and you were gone, and that seemed like all the answer he needed. You didn’t mean it.

That was good, right? You didn’t mean it, and the two of you could keep going the way you had been.

But the ache in Tech’s heart said otherwise. You didn’t love him. He loved you, he knew he did, and he could be ok with pretending he didn’t when he didn’t know how you felt. But he knew now. And it hurt.

It hurt everytime he talked to you, so he stopped talking to you. It hurt everytime he was near you, so he stopped being near you. It hurt everytime he looked at you, so he stopped looking. The squad’s performance hadn’t been altered, so Tech concluded that the awkwardness could be tolerated until your presence didn’t feel so much like a blaster shot to his chest.

But just like pretty much every other choice Tech had made in regards to you, that plan only worked until it backfired horrifically.

***

The Batch were back on Kamino in between missions. Tech had been vaguely aware of Hunter being called in to a meeting of some sort, but he offered his full attention as Hunter stormed back into their room and huffed his way to Tech’s workbench.

“I don’t know what you did, but you need to fix things with Y/N. Now”

At the mention of your name, Tech pretended to return to his work, fiddling with a tool and avoiding eye contact.

“I do not know what you are referring-“

“Like hell you don’t Tech! The two of you haven’t even looked at each other in weeks and now they’ve put in a request to be transferred to another unit, so don’t tell me there’s nothing going on between you.”

Tech shot up, tools abandoned and stool knocked over with the force of his standing.

“They requested a transfer?”

“Yeah, they did. Now, I don’t know what happened, but I know your little silent treatment has been hurting them a lot. I don’t want to see them go, and you don’t either. So go talk to them and fix it, or I’ll have you transferred instead,” Hunter ordered, finger pointed at Tech’s chest. The threat was empty, of course, but it had fallen on deaf ears regardless.

Tech all but sprinted out into the hall, desperate to change your mind before you left them for good. As much as it pained him to be near you, the thought of being without you was somehow so much worse. He reached your quarters and unceremoniously burst in, barely giving the doors enough time to slide open before he was moving past them.

You jumped at his sudden entrance, hand coming up to clutch your chest.

“Maker, Tech you scared me!”

“Please don’t leave”

You stared at him, taking in his appearance for the first time. His chest was heaving, like he’d just run a marathon, and his eyes were frantic and impossibly wide behind his goggles. You didn’t think you’d ever seen him so disheveled, even when you’d slept with him.

You wanted to look away, but you were conscious of the fact that this was the first time you had made eye contact in Maker knows how long and you couldn’t bring yourself to do it.

“Tech, I-I can’t stay with the way things are. I’m sorry about what I said, I know it was just supposed to be a friend thing and I shouldn’t have fallen in love with you. I really tried not to, but I did and I ruined everything and you can’t even look at me anymore so how can I-“

Tech took step closer, cutting off your rambling as his brow furrowed.

“You fell in love with me?”

He spoke so quietly, it was barely above a whisper. You nodded, confused at his surprised considering the whole issue was that you told him you loved him and he didn’t feel the same. That was the issue, right?

You could practically see the smoke coming out of his ears as he tried to process what was happening.

“I thought… I thought you didn’t mean it”

Now it was your turn to be confused.

“Why would you think that?”

“Y-you didn’t say anything. You confessed your affections for me while in a compromised state and didn’t say anything else afterwards. Your body language indicated regret and-and you left. I concluded that you said it by accident, and did not actually mean it,” he explained as calmly as he could in his rattled state.

“I left because I told you I loved you and you locked yourself in the fresher! And then you wouldn’t talk to me so I figured you were mad at me because I have feelings for you and you don’t feel the same way!”

Tech’s face broke out in a huge grin, and just as you were about to ask him why he was so happy all of a sudden, he rushed forward and passionately slotted his lips against yours. You gasped into him before immediately reciprocating the kiss, and you tangled your hands in his hair as his fingers desperately clutched your hips. Of all the kisses you had shared with him, none had felt the way this one did. There was an emotion pouring into it, one that had always been on the verge of spilling over but never had before. Eventually you broke apart, and you cursed your lungs for needing air.

He leaned his forehead against yours as you both caught your breath, and broke the silence after a few moments.

“I love you, too. I have for a significant amount of time. When you left that night, I incorrectly assumed you did not share my affections. I avoided you after because I… I was hurt. I apologize for misinterpreting your actions, and for allowing you to think that I was upset with you. I assure you, that could not be further from reality.”

You laughed giddily, bumping his nose with yours as you relished in his confession.

“If you loved me, why did you just want to be friends with benefits?”

Tech blushed and look down, a sheepish look overtaking his features.

“Well, I performed a cost-benefit analysis on engaging in a romantic relationship, and the potential complications were too great. A platonic sexual partnership offered a less risky alternative. Although, I must admit that I failed to properly calculate the possible outcomes of such an agreement between two individuals in our specific situation,” he elaborated.

“We might be the two dumbest people in the galaxy,” you joked with a giggle.

“Technically, it is statistically impossible for that to be true, given-“

You cut him off with another deep kiss, your hands coming to rest on his arms as they kept you in his iron-clad grip. He had never loosened his hold, as though he thought if he let you go, you would disappear.

Abruptly, the kiss ended as Tech pulled back slightly to look at you.

“Does this mean you are no longer transferring out of our squad?”

You grinned.

“That depends. Does this mean we can have a real relationship, not just sex?”

Tech brought one hand to rest on his jaw as he looked upwards and pretended to be deep in thought.

“Well, according to my calculations, we have already experienced nearly all of the possible complications of pursuing a romantic relationship, so I have no objection to enjoying some of the benefits,” he concluded with a playful smile.

You leaned up to kiss him again, pausing just before your lips made contact with his to make a sly comment.

“And we know how good we are at some of those benefits already”

[shoichee]

how would atsushi, akashi and aomine react to haizaki threatening/hitting on their s/o?? (cue that one scene where he was literally taking on himuro, kagami, kise, and alex all at once 😡... basically that, but with their s/o)

ANON…. THOSE 3???? LONG STORY SHORT…. HAIZAKI EXPERIENCES DEATH (OR AT LEAST NEAR-DEATH) 3 SEPARATE TIMES…… BUT HERE’S THE “LONG STORY” THROUGH THESE HCs 

TW: attempt of physical assault, unwanted advancements… asshole Haizaki? cut under this to keep y’all safe JUST IN CASE

[Headcanons]

Aomine Daiki

you went out to look for Aomine after noticing how he hasn’t come back to his seat for too long

this was shortly after Kaijō defeated Fukuda Sōgō, and it was currently intermission before the next match rolled in

your face was met with crisp air as your eyes adjusted to the dark, scanning for any sign of your boyfriend

upon seeing no one, you decided to walk around the perimeter, just in case Aomine decided to nap for a quick moment on a whim and forgot to tell you

maybe you shouldn’t have walked out alone and in the dark of night, but you figured that in such a public event in a public area, you didn’t think anyone had the balls to start anything fishy around the stadium

oh how you were so wrong

you unfortunately bumped into Haizaki right when he was slowly strolling with his basketball shoes over his shoulder, and you immediately stopped in place, praying that he would walk past by you or perhaps not even see you

you knew that he wasn’t good news based from what Aomine told you and from watching that unpleasant game… he was bad, bad news

why did you think he wasn’t gonna see you? his senses are as sharp as a falcon, scrutinizing you before he realizes your identity

“Oh? Now what’s a pretty little thing like you doing out here… all alone?”

“I, um, I was looking for someone, but I realized it’s been getting a little too late… I think they returned back to the stadium, so that’s where I’m heading…”

your voice slowly diminishes to a soft whisper by the end, but judging from his widened eyes from glee, you knew he wasn’t going to walk past by you after this

“That so?” he drawls, licking his thumb. “The stadium ya say?”

something about his gaze turned sharp and dangerous, “the stadium” triggering unadulterated rage and frustration from the game and from his encounter with Aomine

“I… I really gotta leave,” you say in a hurry, quickly backing up. “Th-They’re impatient, so—”

“Huh?” he mocks, leaning closer to you. “I’m kinda of an impatient guy myself, yeah?” but upon even closer inspection, he realizes that he’s seen you somewhere very recently

“Hm?” he muses lowly. “Weren’t ya sitting with Daiki that game?” when you don't answer out of fear, his eyes merely shine with excitement… “Ohhhh… is that how it is?”

. . .

Aomine returns back to his seat after settling a score with Haizaki outside the stadium, but immediately becomes confused when he sees your seat empty

Sakurai immediately apologizes and quickly informs him that you went out to look for him, and Aomine immediately dashes back out… after all, who knows if you got lost in the dark or if you kept being persistent in looking for him?

imagine his visible distress when he sees Haizaki putting an arm around your shoulder while still holding his shoes and you looking absolutely fearful because you knew what he was capable of

this was a very rare moment where Aomine was not so calm and collected

but he tries to, especially when he knows that Haizaki probably relishes in the fact of “getting revenge” for that punch earlier (and probably realized the connection between you and Aomine to do so)

“Hey, asshat,” he calls out, grabbing Haizaki’s attention away from you, but Aomine notices him pulling you slightly closer to his body. “The fuck you think you’re doing with (y/n)?”

“Hehh? So (y/n)’s your name?” Haizaki merely pays attention to you, completely ignoring Aomine

“Back off,” he says lowly, almost to a growl. “I won’t be holding myself back to just a punch this time if you do anything else.”

at his hardened glare, Haizaki does a gleeful mock-surprise expression before putting his arm off of you and says: “Whoaaa there, Daiki. Never pegged you as that typa guy.”

he licks his thumb before walking away casually without a care in the world before calling out, “It ain’t fun here anymore, I’m bouncin’ out.”

by the time he leaves Aomine’s field of vision, he finally releases a pent-up sigh before calling out your name:

“... Come’ere… he didn’t do anythin’ to you right? Sheesh, I leave you alone for one second—alright, alright I guess it was more than a second… fine, it was several minutes… look, I’m sorry… okay, okay quit lecturing me… more importantly, promise me you don’t go out alone like that. It’s dangerous out there, y’know.”

when you finally ask about what he meant by his threat to Haizaki, he smugly replies, “Aw, that? I gave him a hard sock earlier. Went down pretty easily.”

Murasakibara Atsushi

it’s quite rare that Murasakibara would agree to going to Tokyo temporarily over break, let alone leave his house, but here you two are, resting on the park benches in Tokyo

shortly after, you went to the nearest arcade hall, begging and tugging him along with you to try the strength test for the jackpot prize (totally using his physique to nab home prizes and merch LOL)

he only agreed because you looked way too excited for him to turn the plan down

he still enjoyed himself, if he was being honest; it’s just you, him, his snacks, and some games you both are playing together

Murasakibara notices that the arcade also has a mini food court to the side, and he immediately pouts at you to let him go tasting galore on a food binge

and you laugh, telling him to “hurry up” to tease him and letting him know that you were staying here to try to earn more points to exchange for rewards at the end

you entered a coin into the slot and hummed before seeing a START screen, but as soon as it went black into a loading screen you saw someone’s reflection on it

Haizaki was right behind you

“Whaddya know? Would ya look at that?” he says, hands in his pockets while sneering. “If it isn’t (y/n).”

you merely pretended that you didn’t hear him, considering that the arcade was pretty crowded and noisy, and went on to playing the game in front of you

you hoped that by the time you were done with the round, he’d be gone, but his reflection was very much still there on the arcade machine screen, depicting his laid-back posture against the back of another arcade machine, watching you with complete amusement

after spending all the available coins on hand and still sensing him behind you, you promptly turned to your left to head for the coin machine and acted completely casual, but before you got too far ahead, Haizaki easily blocks your path with an outstretched arm, the hand against the arcade machine

“Whoaaa,” he drawls. “That’s pretty fucked up for you to ignore me like that.”

“... You’re blocking the way, so can you please kindly let me pass?” you flatly say, not bothering to look at his face

“What’s with the cold shoulder?” He tilts his head with a crazed look in his eyes that spelled unpredictability. “I just came and stopped by to say hello to an old friend from Teiko. Nothin’ wrong with that, hm?”

“Look,” you sigh. “You’re in the way, and I wish to spend my time here left alone. No, I’m not interested in small talk. No, I’m not in the mood for a bite with you. No, I don’t want to give you my number. Did I address everything?” you finally turned your face to look at Haizaki, but his face contorts to one of a dangerous beast

“Good, good…” he slowly says. “You haven’t changed one bit, haven’t ya? I was wonderin’ where that feisty side of yours went.”

perhaps you shouldn’t have spoken up after all; it only riled him up more

before you can formulate any further thoughts, he grabs your chin and directed it towards him, and you immediately froze up

you tried to dart your eyes around you if anyone noticed, but no one seems to pay attention

“What’s the matter?” he asks. “Cat got ya tongue?” when he looks to where your gaze was at, he chuckles before drawing closer to your face. “No one’s gonna help… not when they think we’re a little thing…”

but he instantly feels a heavy hand on his shoulder, and Haizaki turns around, ready to cuss the perpetrator out, but his eyes widen when he sees a furious Murasakibara

a giant with a very, very hostile aura… even nearby crowds dispersed out of fear for their safety

“Hands off of (y/n)-chin, pest.”

“Oho?” Haizaki releases your face and completely turns around to face him. “Well if it isn’t Atsushi… been a while hasn’t it?” he brings up a hand in a shrugging motion. “While I’d love to chat, I’m busy. Scram.”

“Touch (y/n)-chin again, and I’ll break all of your fingers.”

“Huh?” Haizaki licks his right thumb. “What’s up with ya? It’s non’ya business.”

you took this as an opportunity to run to Murasakibara’s side and seek shelter behind his back, which Haizaki raises a defiant brow

“Hmmm?” he smiles a slow smirk. “Was I really such bad company, (y/n)?”

his smile was completely wiped when he sees Murasakibara’s outstretched hand towards his head, and he deftly dodges his grasp before he walks off with a scoff

“I’m gonna crush him—”

“W-Wait! Just leave him be…” you held onto his torso in a full-attempt to stop him from going too far, and after a few moments, he relaxes with body and finally turns to face you

he doesn’t say anything but darts his eyes all over your figure to make sure there weren’t any injuries on you

he gently holds your hand before he tugs you to follow him to the food court

“Murasakibara…?”

“... You won’t be separated from me if we hold hands, (y/n)-chin.”

“I’m fine, you know.”

he doesn’t say anything more, and when you both settled into your table with your orders, he’s constantly staring at you and giving nonverbal cues that he wants to do PDA with you

becomes very protective and affectionate of you for the rest of the trip

grows very quiet and deep in thought until you reassure him that you were okay because of him stepping in to save you

Akashi Seijuro

it’d be extremely rare for you to ever bump into Haizaki, especially when the only chance you can see him is during the annual Winter Cup

Winter Cup arrives once again with the GoMs being 2nd years this time, and Akashi is still the same Oreshi ever since last Winter Cup

Haizaki definitely had seen you walking with Akashi very closely before the opening ceremony started, and it gave him ideas on how to “get back” against Akashi without directly confronting him

he was gonna mess with you

even after all those years, he still has that grudge against Akashi; the fact that he is one of the few people who has that power over him irritates him to no end

even when Akashi told Haizaki to quit long ago to help him save face, his pride was still heavily bruised

when he was sure Akashi wasn’t with you, he approached you while you were waiting outside the stadium

. . .

Akashi exits out of the locker rooms and carries his duffel bag before he heads to the entrance to greet you, excited in reuniting with you to talk about today’s games and your opinion on Rakuzan’s performance… that is, until what he saw made him beyond furious

“O-Ow…!”

“If ya want someone to blame for,” Haizaki sneers. “Ya can thank Akashi for messin’ with me, yeah? Don’t take it too hard babe, but I’m just returnin’ the favor… by proxy.”

Akashi strides over to the two of you with the intensity of death that would even surprise Bokushi himself

“Haizaki.”

at the sound of his eerily calm voice, Haizaki turns over to Akashi, and his glee is immediately wiped off his face and replaced with one of anger… and hidden fear

he suddenly drops you from his chokehold, and as you hit the ground, coughing to intake air, he turns to Akashi with a vengeful look

after a suffocating staredown between the two, Haizaki tuts and turns to leave in unspoken defeat, knowing full well the consequences from defying against Akashi; it’s something he never did in Teiko and certainly not something he would risk doing now

Akashi immediately drops his cold facade and rushes over to your side, rubbing your back and examining the slight bruises on your neck

his HIGHEST priority at that very moment was your safety, and he decided to take you to a doctor and then to your home, opting to cancelling/rescheduling any plans for today despite your objections

all the while, he coos softly at you and touches you with such care and gentleness that you managed to calm your heartbeat from that sudden attempt of assault

as soon as he feels like you’re safe, mentally and physically (and probably in a safe environment with either a GoM or at your own home), he reveals his true emotions on his face regarding the incident for the first time when he’s alone

being super considerate about your current mental state, he didn’t want to potentially scare you even more with his anger and much more negative emotions

for the first time, he allows his darker thoughts to simmer and stir… it’s one of those rare times where he wishes that Bokushi still existed within him

he eventually finds time to pay a visit to Fukuda Sōgō… to make nice… threats conversation

if you somehow figured out that he was going to do that, only when you convinced him is when he’ll decide to back down

but that’s only IF you figured out about how Akashi really felt about this…

[screamingatanemptyroom]

One Shot Werewolf Story

So... first of all, Next part of PFTS should be coming out soon. It's going to take some work to make sure that I pull all the threads that's I've placed in all the worlds together without plot holes, so apologize for how long it's taking. Will probably finish this last world in 2-3 parts, with possibly 1 or two extra parts from Liam and the Traveler's perspective.

Now, back to the story at hand. About a week ago, I wandered into the werewolf side of Wattpad. It was very... interesting. Never written about werewolves before. Thought it might be fun to try my own using my own style. (Women who constantly think they aren't pretty or good enough for the man, men who force physical intimacy and growl "mine" aren't really going to work for me.)

Anyways, It's about a 13k oneshot. It's a bit out of my norm, so I hope you guys enjoy! (Also I would love to hear ideas on what to title this.)

Here it is:

________________________

“I can’t believe you read this garbage!” Alyssa’s coworker held up the book in her hand, staring at it with disgust. “What do you see in books like this, anyways?”

Alyssa sighed, looking up at the book in question. The cover showed a shirtless muscular man holding a busty woman while scowling at the camera, with the title written across the top in bright orange words: “The Alpha’s Timid Mate.”

“I don’t read it for fun.” She muttered, reaching up and snatching the book back. Opening the large roller suitcase behind her, she found its place among the hundreds of other werewolf books and put it away carefully.

“Then what is it?” Her coworker asked with a tone of disbelief.

“Research.”

“Really? Research? For what? When your werewolf boyfriend shows up out of nowhere? “ She let out a derisive snort. “Sure.”

“…You don’t understand.”

She doesn’t understand us. The wolf in Alyssa’s head spoke up silently.

“That’s what I said.”

Can we eat her? Her wolf seemed excited by the idea.

“No. You know we can’t. You don’t even really want to. You’re just acting out because you’re upset I won’t let you watch horror movies any more.”

I am not acting out! But since you mentioned it… bring back the horror movies!

“No.”

“What are you talking about?” Her coworker frowned; confused by the conversation she could only hear half of.

Turning to her briefly, Alyssa shrugged. “Sorry, I’m just having a small discussion. I’ll be free to talk shortly.”

“Don’t bother.” The girl walked away, whispering under her breath. “Freak.”

Should have just eaten her.

“Wolves don’t even eat people. Stop pretending.”

How do you know? Maybe WEREwolves DO eat people! You have no clue! You haven’t found a pack yet. Even though you PROMISED!

“I know, I know.” Alyssa rubbed her forehead tiredly. “It’s harder than I thought it would be.”

I’m lonely and bored! I want to go run! I want a pack!

“Anything else, Your Highness? A bone on a silver platter?”

The wolf paused at that, pouting quietly … I’m hungry. Feed us something tasty.

“That I can do. We’ll eat on our lunch break.”

Steak?

“…We’ll see.”

As her wolf silently cheered, the door to the bookstore she was tending opened. A strange smell reached her nose. Mint and pine along with another scent she couldn’t quite place.

Alyssa looked up and was startled. The man who walked in looked like he had stepped off the cover of one of her werewolf books. Muscular, handsome… his brown hair just long enough to frame his green eyes. And tall… Alyssa had always known she was short, but never felt quite so at a disadvantage height wise as she did at the man’s approach.

He looks like the lead from book #298. Her wolf suggested in an interested tone.

“I was thinking book #645, but I see your point.”

Why do you think he’s here?

“I don’t know.”

As he moved closer, his gaze meeting her own, Alyssa stepped back, the sound of her wolf’s growl filling her mind.

HE’S A WEREWOLF! … even better, he smells strong… an ALPHA? QUICK, MATE HIM!

An alpha? Crap. Alyssa had done enough research to know that was bad news. “Look here, missy, I am not assaulting some stranger just because…”

Then let’s switch over to wolf so I can do it!

“No!”

“Excuse me…” The man spoke up, his voice hesitant and trailing off.

Alyssa turned and hurried out the back. Passing through the bookshelves, she heard someone following close behind, and picked up the pace. The door squeaked loudly as she forced it open, slamming against the wall as she broke out into a run towards the back alley.

“Wait!” The man’s voice called out.

Seeing that they were now alone, she stopped in her tracks, and turned, more irritated than nervous. “What?”

“…” He seemed thrown off by her sudden change, but shook his head, studying her closely. The man seemed to recognize something, and moved quickly to stand next to her. “You’re…” His eyes widened, and he reached out to grab her. “A werewolf? My mate?!”

YES! I knew it! Her wolf’s scream of excitement echoed in her mind.

Alyssa sighed tiredly, reaching into her bag. “Well, crap.”

________________________

It had been a terrible day.

Lewis listened to his family arguing, wishing for the thousandth time that he wasn’t in charge.

“Nightfang’s pack could wipe us out!” Gary, his Beta, slammed his fist on the table, the force of it scattering plates and cups.

Lewis’s mother stood up, and despite her height only coming only to the enormous man’s chin he shrunk down in fear. “…Did you just mess up my kitchen?”

“…”

“Then you’re gonna be a good boy and clean that up right now, yes?” She raised an eyebrow. “Or you won’t have to worry about that Nightfang pack. There won’t be enough of you left for them to fight over once I’m through.”

“…I’ll clean it up right away, Ma’am.”

“That’s what I thought.” She turned to Lewis, patting his shoulder comfortingly. “What’s you plan to deal with this, dear?”

“My plan?” His voice came out slightly more stressed than he meant it to.

“Well, you’re the alpha. Your father left it to you to protect us. “

“Yes. Of course… a plan… which I definitely have.”

Gary and his mate Berta glanced at each other from the other side of the table.

“He doesn’t have a plan.”

“Did you really expect him to?”

“Hey!” At Lewis’s hurt exclamation, Gary shrugged.

“No offense, Alpha, but since your broth… since Nightfang left and took half the pack with him, things have been a little disorganized. You have to admit that’s true.”

Lewis walked over to the window of the cabin, leaning on the sill and staring up at the cloudy sky. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. We were supposed to help each other. Help the pack. But now it’s all just one huge mess and I’m the only one left to take care of it.

Hey, you’re not alone! His wolf’s irritated voice burst out. I’m always here. We’re stuck together for life!

I’m aware. He chuckled quietly. Glad to have you, Buddy.

So… Can we go find our mate now?

You know we can’t. There could be an attack any day now. Besides, I’ve already visited all the packs within driving distance. She’s not there.

Maybe she’s human, like our mom. We should go to town and find her.

Yeah, just go to town and pick up a mate like going to the grocery store to pick up milk. No problem with that.

She’s probably waiting for us! She’s wondering what’s taking us so long to find her. What if she thinks we can’t provide for her? Hurry, you have to find her…. Bring steak… no… four steaks… fatty ones! It will show that we can feed her… make her fat! She’ll definitely want to mate with us then!

Nothing turns women on more than shoving red meat in their face and telling them that you’ll help them gain weight.

Like you would know? Who have you dated? Regale me with tales of your vast experience.

Hey! You haven’t dated either.

I have instincts, at least.

“Lewis?” Gary’s voice broke him from his silent talk with his wolf.

He turned back “We’ll tighten up the patrol schedule.” He rubbed his forehead.

“It will mean giving up territory.”

“I’m aware.” The words came out as a growl. Territory was everything. In the old days it was a pack’s survival. The instinct to protect it at all costs remained, but Lewis had no choice. “Their safety matters more.”

The pack has to be protected first.

Agree. His wolf sounded unhappy, but stood by him, as always.

“Alright then. Continue with training, and preparing for if Nightfang brings his pack for war.” Lewis sighed. “Hopefully they’ll wait until the colder weather passes.”

Although it might be just delaying the inevitable.

“You are all dismissed.” As he stood up, however, his mother stopped him with a smile.

“Can you pick up some milk, dear? I’m out.”

“… Sure, Mom.” He held back a laugh thinking about his conversation with his wolf, knowing that no one else would get the joke. Maybe I’ll pick up my mate while I’m there.

He headed into town.

As he parked his car and walked towards the supermarket, however, his wolf suddenly started shouting in his head.

She’s here!

Lewis frowned. Who? Nightfang or one of his followers?

No, you idiot! Our mate!

Where? He skidded to a halt, staring around frantically. His heart started to race, as he prepared to meet his soulmate… the one he had been waiting for his entire life.

In the bookstore! His wolf wasn’t much better, barely able to communicate in its excitement.

He opened the door, ignoring the soft chime that sounded out to alert a new customer’s arrival. His eyes scanned the room, trying to spot… something. A familiar face, a special feeling. How do you know if someone is your mate…?

His silent voice trailed off in shock as he stared at… her.

She was beautiful.

Dark curls, the tips just barely brushing her shoulders. She was short… very short. He felt awkwardly tall, wondering if she would dislike his height. She seemed to be packing a book into a suitcase, but then turned to face him.

Her grey eyes widened at the sight of him.

Does she feel it too?

QUICK, FEED HER!

With what?!!! I don’t have any food!

Why didn’t you bring the steaks?!!! Now she’s going to think we’re weak and she’ll starve as our mate! What if she leaves us?!!

Human women don’t need steaks for courtship… watch.

Lewis cleared his throat. “Excuse me…”

She turned and rushed out of the store.

…

…

…You were saying?

…Maybe you were right about the steaks.

He followed her out to the back of the shop, cringing at the suspicious looks that the customers in the shop gave him.

I’m chasing after a girl into a back alley. I’ll be lucky if no one calls the cops.

She’s our mate! We could never hurt her!

They don’t know that. She might not even know that!

To his shock she stopped and turned around once they were out of the store. Placing her hands on her hips, she glared at him. “What?”

“…” She was even more mesmerizing up close. Lewis nervously cleared his throat, stepping closer.

Her scent filled his senses. Lilac and spring and… wolf?

She’s a werewolf! That’s awesome! Let’s shift and show her how strong our wolf form is. It’s much better looking than the human look.

“You’re…” Feeling stunned, he reached out, wanting to touch her, to hold her hand. “A werewolf? My mate?”

This is amazing! His mate, his soulmate was standing right in front of him. Would she be happy too? Was she excited to meet us?

She didn’t seem shocked. Didn’t seem happy either… or angry, or afraid. Her face just showed mild… annoyance?

Does she not feel the bond?

“Well, crap.”

As she spoke out with a matter of fact tone, Lewis’s hand neared her shoulder, only to spasm and drop as he fell to the ground shaking. His mate stood over him, staring down at him blankly, the Taser in her hand still sparking.

Well, crap. He silently echoed his mate’s words as darkness overcame him.

________________________

Alyssa sat on her favorite chair, holding her favorite mug, drinking her favorite tea, wrapped in her favorite blanket, hoping it would improve her mood.

It wasn’t working.

Mostly due to the large man on her living room floor, just now waking up from the effects of her Taser… and the large animal sedative she stuck him with after he went down. He blinked his eyes, seeming confused and disoriented.

He’s adorable. I bet his wolf is good looking! Can you ask him to shift? Her wolf hadn’t shut up since they met the other werewolf.

“Shush. He’s waking up now. It would be rude to ask him before we’ve talked. “

Spoilsport. At least show him all the hamburger meat we have frozen.

“Why would he want to see our hamburger meat?”

THAT will show him how effective we are at gathering food! We can be an asset to his pack! If he doesn’t have a pack he should follow us around, and we can fatten him up! … he’s too skinny.

“He’s not skinny… he’s very muscular.”

What if there’s not enough prey in the winter? His muscles will go away. He should have a nice little layer of fat.

“Do not fatten him up! I like him like this.”

“Excuse me?” The man on her living room floor struggled to sit up. Leaning back against her TV stand, he blinked a few more times, obviously still fighting off the tranquilizer. Looking around, he just seemed more confused. “Where am I?”

“My home.” Alyssa told him, taking another sip of her tea.

“Ah.” He paused, awkwardly shifting his weight and raising his hands which were tied together with silver chains, like his ankles. “Why am I tied up?”

“…” She stared at him silently a few moments. “You’re a werewolf.”

“…Yes. So are you?”

“You said I was your mate.”

He blushed at that, avoiding eye contact. “Sorry. I know that was awkward. I was surprised. I’ve been looking for years since I reached adulthood.”

“You’re an alpha?”

“Yes.” Straightening his spine, he forced a cocky looking grin. “A strong alpha of a great pack.”

“So now you know why you’re tied up.”

“…pardon?”

Alyssa rolled her eyes. “I’ve done enough research to know when an alpha finds his mate, it tends to get physical… and non-consensual… real quick.”

He still seemed confused. “Research?”

She set down her tea and blanket and dragged over the enormous roller suitcase. Opening it, she displayed hundreds of paperback romance books. She pulled one out, showing off the cover, which showed a half-naked muscular man holding a woman tightly as she half-heartedly pushed him away.

The bound man looked at the picture. “The Reluctant Mate of an Alpha? What is this?”

“There are 983 books on werewolves in my possession.” She pulled out her notebook, quickly flipping to the “alpha” section. “88% of them feature an alpha werewolf as the male lead… and 92% of those characters force their mate to engage in physical intimacy… mostly hugging and kissing… within the first few minutes of meeting them.”

“You… you’re getting your information from romance books?” He looked horrified. “Where’s your pack?”

“No pack. Abandoned as a baby. I grew up in the foster system.”

A low angry growl sounded from his chest. “What pack abandons a child?!”

“The kind of pack that I’m probably better off being abandoned than raised by.” She tapped the book again. “Back to the fact that I’m apparently the mate to an alpha wolf.”

“Not apparently!” He looked distressed still. “You ARE! Can’t you sense it?”

She ignored him, putting the book back carefully. “You know that alpha wolves aren’t even a natural thing… only happens with wolves in captivity. Wolves in the wild tend to form family units. “

“…But we aren’t normal wolves? We wouldn’t have the exact same pack structure.”

“Exactly. Thus I can’t use my wolf encyclopedia to gain information.” She frowned. “That would have been preferable, honestly. I don’t really like the alphas in these stories.”

If you’re not going to mate with him… can we eat him?

“Stop asking to eat people. You know the answer.”

Lewis’s eyes grew wide. “Did you say ‘eat PEOPLE?”

“Don’t worry. There’s a strict ‘no eating people’ rule. It’s just a phase she’s gone through since I let her watch 80s horror werewolf flicks. She thinks its funny, but its not. “ She threw her hands up helplessly. “This is WHY we are on a horror movie ban!”

This is unfair!

“It’s perfectly fair! Even if you ignore the moral implications, you wouldn’t even like the taste of human flesh!”

What about hot sauce? Didn’t you say hot sauce makes every thing taste better?

“Yes… hot sauce does make everything taste better.”

“Wait… are you going to EAT me?” Lewis questioned with a panicked tone, scooting backwards closer to the door.

“No. I told you, there’s a firm ‘no eating people’ rule in place. We’re done discussing that.”

“But…”

“We’re discussing whether or not hot sauce would make your flesh taste better if we ate you… hypothetically.”

“Oh.” He thought it over. “I do like hot sauce. But I don’t think wolves do.”

“No. It would give them diarrhea, probably.” Alyssa nodded. “See. Even hot sauce wouldn’t help.”

Then if we aren’t going to eat him, can we please just MATE with him?

“No eating. No mating.”

“Wait, can we not put a strict no mating rule in place just yet? At least not a permanent one?” He paused. “Also, if I promise not to engage in any alpha behaviors like you see in your ‘research’, can I please be untied?”

“…” She studied him warily. “I suppose.”

“Great!” He held out his wrists, smiling with relief as she started to untie him.

“I have plenty of tranquilizer anyways.” She muttered.

“…pardon?”

The bonds slipped free. The man rubbed his wrists, careful to not make any sudden movements. Relieved by his apparent honesty in not trying anything, Alyssa headed back to her chair and wrapped herself back in her blanket.

Grabbing her tea, she took a sip of the lukewarm liquid and smiled. “So what brought the great alpha into my place of work today? Were you looking for me?”

________________________

Lewis was unsure how to answer his mate. Panicking, he said the first thing he thought of.

“Actually I was going to go buy milk.”

She raised an eyebrow. “In the bookstore?”

“Yes! I mean, no!” He covered in his face. “I was on my way to the supermarket, when my wolf… sensed you.”

She tilted her head, seeming more interested. “Your wolf? What’s he like?”

TELL HER I AM VERY STRONG!

“Umm… he’s strong…”

TELL HER I CAN MAKE HER FAT!!

No!

How else will she know I can provide food for her and our children?!

No. I’m not saying we’ll make her fat!

ITS IMPORTANT! TELL HER HOW FAT WE CAN MAKE HER!

“Are you okay?”

“WE’LL MAKE YOU REALLY FAT!” Lewis blurted out… and then stared at the ground in embarrassed horror.

“…” There was a long silence.

“My wolf says that’s very attractive.” She shook her head. “She wants you to know that we have several pounds of hamburger in our freezer and that we are happy to contribute food to you and your family.”

She’s smart and stores plenty of meat in her freezer! Please convince her to stay as our mate!

“So would you like to come visit our pack? He asked, wincing as she pulled what appeared to be a miniature Taser out of thin air. “Just visiting! No mating!” He relaxed as she hid the Taser away again “…Where were you even keeping that?”

“Secret pocket in the sleeve…. It’s not my only one, so don’t think I’ve given you any advantage.”

Lewis tried to think of something that would appeal to her. “I know you don’t have a pack… it would be a chance to get to know others like you… “

“… I would be able to refine my research…” She muttered, staring down at her notebook. “Plus my wolf really wants to…”

SHE’S GOING TO SAY YES!

Shush!

“Sure. Why not?” She shrugged, holding out her hand. “I guess we should officially meet if we’re going back to your pack together. I’m Alyssa.”

Alyssa! Her name is pretty!

“Nice to meet you Alyssa.” Lewis smiled brightly. “I’m Lewis.” He shook her hand, trying to stay calm at the shocking feeling of touching her. It was almost painful, as if every cell in his body were screaming at him that he’s met his soulmate. Overwhelmed, confused, he glanced over at his mate, only to see her calm expression.

Does she not feel this? Are we just delusional?

She’s our mate! Of course she feels it!

She’s not acting like it. Maybe we’re wrong? Lewis felt a stabbing pain in his chest at the thought. She was his mate. He had waited his whole life to meet her. He belonged to her.

What if she doesn’t want us?

… His wolf didn’t have an answer to that.

Maybe she can sense our weakness… our failure.

No… we’re not weak! We’re alpha of a strong pack!

That’s fallen apart because most of them felt I wasn’t the best one for the job.

We have to be strong. We can’t fail our pack or our mate. Don’t show weakness!

I’ll try.

Lewis forced a calm smile as he looked at Alyssa. “Should we head over and meet the pack?”

“Hmm… Aren’t you forgetting something?” She angled her head, studying him.

“What?”

“Didn’t you say you were on your way to pick up milk when you met me?”

“OH SHOOT!” He jumped to his feet. “I’m glad you said something! You saved my life!”

“By remembering milk?”

“You don’t realize how horrible my death would be at my mom’s hands if I had forgotten it.”

“…” She raised an eyebrow, a slight smile at the corner of her mouth. “You’re welcome, then.”

I like her smile! Let’s help make her smile more!

Agree.

Lewis ran to pick up some milk while she packed a bag for the trip. When he returned, he was shocked by the number of suitcases she had brought with her.

“Are all these clothes?”

“Don’t be silly.” She looked at him like he was an idiot. “It’s my research.”

He was almost afraid to ask, but felt he had to. “… They’re all filled with werewolf romance books… aren’t they?

“Not just books… “ Alyssa seemed a little defensive. “There’s some weapons. And a few changes of clothes.”

“If you’re staying a few days at least, do you need to take off work?”

She shook her head. “No need.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. “

“…Okay.” He didn’t want to pry. At least not yet. Maybe one day she’ll trust us enough to tell us more.

He packed her bags into the car, glad for his superhuman strength as he lifted the suitcases filled to the brim with books. Alyssa sat in the passenger seat, clutching a notebook and a small messenger bag, which also appeared to be filled with books. As they headed outside of town, an awkward silence fell between them.

Say something witty! His wolf finally lost patience with Something that will make her think we’re smart!

Open to any suggestions, Buddy. I’m having trouble thinking straight with our mate so close, much less think of something smart to say!

Aren’t you supposed to be the more intelligent half? I’m supposed to be the stronger one.

You’re the one always saying that wolves are super intelligent creatures and I should listen to you more!

Now we’re being silent for too long! What if she thinks we’re an idiot?!

You’re not helping…

“So how do werewolves mate?” Alyssa asked calmly, the question almost causing Lewis to swerve off the road in shock.

“…”

…

“Sorry, I don’t think I heard you. Could you repeat the question?”

“How do werewolves mate?”

… I think I preferred the awkward silence.

No! This is good! She’s showing an interest in mating!

“Umm… Not differently than humans… you learned about that in health class, right?” He desperately hoped he would not have to have a “birds and bees” talk with his mate right after meeting her.

“Oh.” She sounded slightly disappointed. “So we don’t mate in wolf form?”

I’m game.

SHUT UP.

“Typically no… I mean I guess it’s possible…” He felt himself turn bright red, feeling super uncomfortable. “But usually its in human form… at least from my understanding of what mated couples say.”

“Hmm..” She seemed to be listening to something. “No, I don’t think his wolf is impotent. I think it’s a cultural thing.”

HER WOLF THINKS I’M IMPOTENT, WE’RE SHIFTING NOW!

We are currently driving down a highway! We are not shifting any time soon! Besides, what on earth do you think you’re going to do in wolf form that’s going to convince her otherwise?

I’ll show her my genitals, to reassure her.

THAT DOES NOT REASSURE WOMEN! ARE YOU TRYING TO GET US TASED?!

“So I bet that means that werewolf pregnancy follows human rules then. “ She sighed, frowning while pulling out her notebook and writing a few things down. “There was only 3% of books that presented mating and pregnancy while in wolf form, so I guess I shouldn’t be surprised.”

“… I see.”

“How long does pregnancy last? 19% of the books depict a shorter pregnancy cycle, but I wasn’t sure if it was just to get the plot to move faster.”

“Normal 9 months.”

“Number of children per pregnancy?”

“One… unless you have twins.”

She groaned, leaning back in her chair. “So no advantages at all? So disappointing.”

SHE’S DISAPOINTED! TELL HER TWINS RUN IN OUR FAMILY! WE’LL GIVE HER SO MANY CHILDREN!

“Twins run in our family!” Lewis nearly shouted.

“Really?” Alyssa studied him, looking slightly interested. “Do you have a twin?”

Great. I really had to bring HIM up.

“I do… but he left the pack.”

“Does that happen often?”

“No.”

“I see…” She made a few more notes. “Obviously the villain.”

“…” I mean, she’s not wrong. “Any other questions?” Please be something easy.

“Will mating with another werewolf change my menstrual cycle?”

“…”

…

Do you know?

Nope. Nothing in the instincts about this. Do you?

Nope.

He cleared his throat. “Sorry, I don’t know the answer to that question. One of the pack might be able to answer it. Maybe Bridget? She seems pretty knowledgeable.”

“Bridget? Your sister?”

“No… she’s just one of the warriors in the pack..”

“Hmm…” Alyssa thought that over. “Is she pretty?”

Lewis shrugged. “Seems pretty normal.”

“Do you two get along?”

“She follows orders, so I guess?”

“I see.” He could hear her pen scratching against paper again. “The female side character who will try to chase we away, maybe? How exciting.”

“…” Lewis decided he didn’t want to ask anything about it. For the sake of his sanity if nothing else.

They spent the rest of the car ride in silence.

________________________

Alyssa felt increasingly nervous the closer they got to pack territory.

I think we’re almost there. This area smells different.

“Different how?”

It smells like our mate! I like it!

“Hmm… Do you think he pees on trees to mark his territory?”

Isn’t that normal?

“It’s normal for wolves… do you think he does it in human form too?”

“I DON’T MARK TERRITORY AS A HUMAN!” Lewis spoke out frantically. “Can you stop talking about me like I’m not here?!”

She turned to him, curious by his reaction. “Don’t you talk to your wolf?”

“All the time, but I do it SILENTLY!” He paused. “Do you not know how to?”

“Oh I know how to, I just think it’s really rude to leave her out of the general conversation. She’s here too you know.”

“That makes sense… I guess…” He sighed, rubbing a hand through his hair. “Well, I assume you know since you were commenting on the scent markings, but yes, we’re in pack territory. “

Alyssa nodded, her heart rate increasing slightly. She didn’t like this. Going to unfamiliar places. Meeting new people. Especially people who may have a culture or rules that she didn’t understand. They might not like her.

How could they not love us? We’re a strong, beautiful female… at least when we’re in wolf form.

“Hey!”

We’ll be just fine.

“I hope so.” She took a deep breath, trying to steady her nerves.

A warm hand hesitantly grasped her own. She felt an electric shock traveling up her fingers from the touch, but kept her face expressionless. “Are you okay?” Lewis’s voice was quiet, a comforting sound.

I like his voice. His touch his very warm!

“If you’re worried… I know that you might not believe me, but the pack is very friendly. You’ll feel very welcome.”

“In 42% of the books the pack is welcoming to a stranger… usually because she’s the alpha’s mate. In the rest they are either wary of the unknown person, or distrustful or unfriendly. “ She thought it over. “I guess it’s not bad odds.”

The car came to a stop. Lewis squeezed her hand one last time, and then stepped out, getting her suitcases from the trunk and back seat. Alyssa stared down at her now empty hand, feeling frustrated.

I trust him.

“You trust everyone. It’s my job to keep us safe.” She got out of the car, staring around at the area. There were several nice houses, all scattered far from each other. The place was quiet, peaceful, surrounded by woods. She liked it.

He won’t hurt us. He can’t. It would be like hurting himself.

“You’d be surprised how low people can sink if they want.”

No I wouldn’t. I lived through all the same experiences with you. But wolves do better with a family. We’ll do better with a pack.

“I haven’t agreed to that yet.”

We’ll see.

Lewis carried her many bags without seeming stressed by the weight. “I’ll bring these into the main house. Do you want to come along? Or you can wait here, I can show you around.”

She glanced around at the forest around her. “I’ll wait here.”

“Ok. I’ll be right back.” He looked slightly worried about separating from her, but after a brief hesitation, he walked away.

Alyssa strolled around the clearing by the car, feeling calmer as she took in the fresh air.

I like it here. We should live here.

“We’ll see.”

Also mate Lewis before another female gets him.

“I don’t think that’s how it works. In 82% of the books, being mates meant soul mates. Only small exceptions made for if mates rejected each other and such… for the drama, I suppose. “

Don’t take chances. Even with an impotent wolf we should claim him sooner rather than later. He has fatty steaks in his house. I can smell them.

“That’s what’s important to you? And I told you, I don’t think his wolf is impotent…”

“WHO ARE YOU?” A strident voice called out.

Alyssa turned to see a beautiful young woman walking towards her with a suspicious expression. She had shorter, curly blond hair and bright green eyes, towering over her in height. Alyssa sighed slightly as she realized she would probably be the shortest werewolf here by a good amount.

We’re short but feisty! Don’t underestimate us!

“I’m Alyssa.” She waved cheerfully. “Who are you?”

“…” The young woman seemed confused. “Bridget.”

The bitch side character! Maybe she’ll shout at us to “stay away from her man!”

“You don’t know that. Maybe she’s nice. She’s pretty.”

She is pretty… but it would be more fun if she were hysterical and tried to scare us off.

“…Who are you talking to?”

“My wolf.” Alyssa grinned at her. “She’s wondering if you are going to scream at us and tell us to stay away from Lewis.”

The woman seemed stunned. “Why would I do that?”

“All the books have it.” She pulled out her notebook and spread out the books from her messenger bag. Holding up one where a woman in a ripped dress stood next to a large wolf titled “The Alpha’s Runaway Love”, she pointed to a smaller, angry looking woman in the background of the cover. “See… in 79% of these stories there’s a strong female side character who is desperately in love with the alpha despite him being mated to the main character and tries to drive her away.”

“… Are those… romance novels….?”

“But I really hope you aren’t that character type. I think you seem like an awesome older sister type.” She stepped closer, which highlighted the height difference between them. “We’ve always wanted a cool, pretty older sister like you. “

“…” Bridget seemed genuinely overwhelmed. “Umm… first of all… I don’t want to scare you away from Lewis… I grew up with the guy. He wet the bed once when I slept over when we were five… ruined my favorite princess sheets…”

Alyssa started taking notes.

“I was just curious about who you were…” She rested a hand on Alyssa’s head, almost seemingly despite herself. “Are you Lewis’ mate?”

“Yep! He found me in a bookstore.” She paused. “Do you know if mating with a werewolf changes your menstrual cycle? I asked Lewis, but he seemed like he was having a seizure and said he didn’t know.”

“…” Bridgett’s face spasmed at that, she seemed to be holding back a laugh.

“Also… I brought hamburger meat… do you want some? “

“So…” Bridget’s voice trailed off.

“So?” Alyssa tilted her head, confused.

“SO CUTE!!!” Alyssa was pulled into an enormous bear hug, squeezed almost uncomfortably tight as Bridget continued to yell. “YOU’RE ADOPTED!”

“What are you doing with my mate?” Lewis’s strained voice made Alyssa want to look over, but she was still trapped in the hug.

“She’s my little sister now, Alpha.” Bridget’s voice was calm, but stern. “If anything happens to her, I will destroy you.”

Alyssa smiled at her as the tall woman set her down. “Really?”

“Really.” Bridget grinned back. “I’ve always wanted a sister too.”

“Awesome!”

As the two girls began chatting excitedly, Lewis cleared his throat. “Guys? I hate to break up the love here, but the pack is gathering to meet Alyssa.”

He walked over towards Alyssa, stopping in his tracks as Bridget grabbed her first and tugged her in the correct direction. “Come on, let’s hurry up! I can’t wait to introduce you to them!”

“She’s MY mate! I want to introduce her!”

“Too bad, so sad, bedwetter! If you weren’t so slow maybe you could have grabbed her first.” She laughed.

“Hey, you promised never to mention that again! What if you scare my mate away?!”

“Even better, she’ll just live with me and my family.”

As they moved, Alyssa tapped her arm, leaning close. “Is this really okay?”

“Is what okay?”

“I mean… he’s your alpha… is it okay to be like this with him?”

Bridget smiled. “Don’t worry. He’s a good alpha… a strong fighter, a capable leader… but he’s very kind. He prefers his pack feel comfortable enough to joke around with him. Says if they can trust him enough to make fun of him that it means they’ll trust him enough to have the uncomfortable conversations as well.”

He’s a good leader.

“Maybe…”

Let’s mate him!

Alyssa groaned at the expected response from her wolf, shaking her head slowly.

They arrived in a clearing in the woods, where twenty or thirty people had gathered. Everyone looked very different, with skin tones, eye and hair color varying widely from person to person. People of all ages chatted excitedly, watching their approach. They did have one thing in common though:

They were all tall.

We’re… tall… too.

“We’re short.” Feeling uncomfortable, she hid behind Bridget, who growled at the crowd.

“Don’t you guys make my sister uncomfortable! Sit down, you’re scaring her.”

The crowd looked very confused at that, but sat down on the grass anyways. Besides the three of them, only one man remained standing. He was enormous, a head taller than even Lewis, who Alyssa already considered very tall. He was broad as well as tall, his muscles nearly bursting out of the flannel shirt he was wearing. His face was covered in a bushy beard, his dark hair cropped close.

Overall Alyssa thought he looked very intimidating. She watched as he approached, a hand grasping her hidden Taser in her sleeve.

“This is my Beta Gary.” Lewis’s calm voice was reassuring, but she refused to relax her vigilance as the large man bent down to look her in the eye. “Gary, this is my mate, Alyssa.”

“Hey there, Alyssa.” The hair-covered face broke into a friendly smile. “We’ve been hoping Lewis would find a nice mate for a while now. Glad you’re here. If anyone gives you trouble you let me know, I’ll knock a few heads in.”

Alyssa grinned back at him. “Nice to meet you, Gary. You’re really large.”

Ask him if we can sit on his shoulder! I want to be tall!

“It would be rude to ask to sit on his shoulder right after meeting him. We’ll ask him later.”

But…

Before her wolf could complain too much, Gary reached out and picked her up easily, placing her on one broad shoulder and steadying her with a single hand. “How’s this?”

Alyssa looked around. “This is GREAT!” She laughed.

Bow before us mortals! WE ARE TALL!

“My wolf is very happy right now. She was sad that we were so much shorter than everyone.”

HEY! You were sad too!

“Well you can ride on my shoulder anytime you want.” Gary laughed. “My mate Berta and I always wanted kids, but…” his voice trailed off slightly. “Well, anyways, feel free to come to us if you ever need help.”

“OR ME!” Bridget burst out. “I’ve already claimed her as my little sister!”

Lewis stared at the three of them, looking slightly tired. “Do I get any time with her as her mate?”

Gary and Bridget glanced at each other. “… We’ll see.”

Putting Alyssa down in front of the pack, Gary winked at her as if to reassure her before taking his place standing behind the Alpha. Lewis stepped forward, his manner becoming stronger, more confident as he addressed the crowd.

“Everyone, this is my mate Alyssa. She’s one of us, but she doesn’t have a pack. So I expect you all to make her feel safe and welcome.” He looked around, smiling as everyone nodded obediently.

“Welcome!”

“We’re glad you’re here!”

“Maybe Lewis will stop moping so much now!”

The cheerful voices of the pack made Alyssa feel calmer. She waved at them, speaking up. “Hey everyone! Like Lewis said, I’m Alyssa. I don’t know much about werewolves… I’ve only grown up around humans, but I’m excited to learn more.”

They seem nice.

Her wolf was happy about the packs’ reactions. No one seemed thrown off by her introduction. No one was glaring at her or even seeming suspicious of her.

It’s a good thing, right?

Before she could respond, Lewis spoke up, distracting her. “Let’s take you back to meet my mom.”

________________________

Lewis was relieved that the pack introduction went so well. Not that he was overly surprised; most of the more disagreeable pack members had left in the split with his brother. Who was left were either the ones too reasonable to be sucked into his rhetoric, or the very loyal ones to himself or his father.

Either way, I guess it’s a good thing.

He led his mate towards his house, breathing a small sigh of relief when Bridget and Gary didn’t insist on following. He liked them both a lot, but they could be a lot. Especially since they seemed to have instantly bonded with Alyssa.

Just admit it. We’re jealous. We want to bond with Alyssa too.

We don’t know what all she’s been through. She was abandoned by her pack as an infant. Her only knowledge of us doesn’t paint Alpha’s in a good light… or at least they don’t seem to. Lewis resolved to get his hands on some of those books and read through this. It might help us understand how she views us… and how to reassure her.

I like her. His wolf’s voice was filled with a patient care. Even if she doesn’t like us just yet, I hope she’s happy and feels safe here.

I do too. Lewis desperately wanted to reassure his mate. He could feel her anxiety through the bond. Even when she was smiling she didn’t feel safe. But he didn’t know how to help just yet.

They reached the house, and as they were about to enter, the door swung open and Lewis’s mother rushed out. Making a beeline for Alyssa, she hugged her tightly, grinning.

“I’M SO HAPPY YOU’RE HERE!”

Alyssa seemed shocked at the sudden appearance of his mother. Lewis tried to step in. “Mom, don’t scare her…”

“Finally someone normal sized!” Alyssa burst out, hugging his mother back.

“I know, right? They’re all way too tall!” Lewis’s mother stepped back, patting her head fondly. “I forgive them since they’re all such good people, but still, I’m happy to have someone I don’t have to strain my neck to look at.”

“Mom, this is Alyssa, my mate.”

“I figured as much dear. You’ve never paid so much attention and care to a single person before. “ She grabbed Alyssa’s hand. “Come in, I made food.”

Our mother understands! She’ll show our mate how much food we can provide!

Alyssa glanced at him. “My wolf wants to make sure that the hamburger meat we brought got put in the fridge.”

“I took care of it.” Lewis puffed out his chest, feeling accomplished.

His mother just shook her head. “Boys. Why don’t you take her bags up to the room next to mine while I get her something to pad her stomach?”

“Yes, Ma’am.” He grabbed the suitcases full of books, weapons and clothes and rushed up the stairs. Her room was on the opposite end of the house from him, right next to his mother’s rooms.

Why is she staying so far away from us? His wolf whined in his head. What if something happens? How will we protect her?

She already doesn’t trust us. Hopefully the living arrangements will make her less nervous. If she doesn’t like it, she might go stay with Bridget instead. Do you want that?

No. Stupid Bridgett. She brought up the bedwetting incident. Our childhood shame bared in front of our mate! What if she doesn’t like us now?

We were young. I can’t imagine she would hold it against us… although yes, it is very embarrassing.

As he neared the kitchen once more, he overheard Alyssa and his mother talking. About to announce his arrival, his mouth slammed shut as he heard his mate’s question.

“So Lewis’ brother is a villain, right?”

“…” His mother sighed. “How much has he told you?”

“Just that he has a twin, and he’s not with the pack.”

“Well, I guess you haven’t known each other long… you’ll hear it anyways, might as well be from me, since he’s my son.” She sat down at the counter, rubbing her forehead tiredly.

“I had three children, actually. Twins boys and a younger girl. My husband was the Alpha of the Western pack, and although it’s not set in stone, usually one of the children of the Alpha will inherit the position.”

Lewis could hear Alyssa’s pen moving as she frantically took notes. He silently laughed, even as his chest hurt at the sound of his mother’s disappointed tone, leaning against the wall to hear how she would describe their situation.

“Now, I’m not a werewolf, you know. I’m a human who happened to be mates with a werewolf. So maybe I didn’t instill the idea of pack values as strongly as I could have.” She sighed. “Lewis seemed to get it naturally. He got hurt when he was ten… the first time he transformed, just to protect an elderly pack member who was being attacked. He’s got a large scar on his left elbow from a hunter’s arrow. Werewolves heal well… but the scars remain.”

My other son… Benjamin… he wasn’t nearly as concerned about the pack’s well being. Just obsessed with being strong. Being in charge. My daughter Emily seemed to feel very similar.”

“Seems pretty Alpha-like… at least how the books describe them.”

“But that’s the thing. Alphas SHOULD be strong. My mate was very strong, in fact. But their strength exists to protect and feed the pack. Strength and power for its own sake has no purpose… and often leads down a dangerous pack.”

“…”

“My mate died.” His mother whispered, the pain in her voice breaking Lewis’s heart. “Lung cancer. Even werewolves can die from disease. They heal… but not fast enough for more aggressive wounds or diseases. They’re not immortal.”

“I’m sorry.” Alyssa seemed genuinely concerned. “How did you survive losing your mate?”

“It helps that I’m human.” Her voice was still quiet. “The pain is still there…it’s like a piece of your soul missing. But I had family, pack … people who needed me to keep waking up each morning. And I’m glad I have.”

“So what happened next?”

“My mate’s will left the pack to Lewis.” His mother shrugged, turning back to stir the contents of a pot on the stove. “It was an obvious choice to us. He is strong, careful… puts the pack first.”

“But Benjamin didn’t agree?”

“He rebelled. Said Lewis was weak. Tried to fight him, but was pushed back by the loyal members of the pack. In the end he took almost half the pack with him to start a new one… including my daughter who also thought Lewis was too weak to lead.”

“…” Alyssa was silent. Lewis leaned against the wall, desperately trying to sense his mate’s emotions. Was she disappointed in him? Did she think he was a failure.

“He goes by Nightfang now… his group is our pack’s greatest threat.”

“…” Suddenly in the silent kitchen, Alyssa chuckled. “Seriously? Nightfang? Did he think that was a cool name?”

Lewis’s mother laughed too. “I know, right. I mean, it’s a serious situation and all, but seriously… he sounds like a villain in a Saturday morning cartoon.” She looked over, and chuckled again. “Alright, Lewis. Stop hiding around the corner and come join the conversation.”

Shamefully, Lewis ducked his head and entered the kitchen. He noticed Alyssa didn’t seem surprised by his presence.

She probably can sense when we’re nearby. It means our bond is slightly stronger!

It also means she knows we were eavesdropping like a creep!

Well we were… not like it’s much better if she doesn’t know.

“So…” He spoke up, trying to appear less awkward. “Can I help with dinner at all, Mom?”

She smiled, reaching up high to pat his head as well. “I’m pretty much done. How about after we eat you show her around the territory?”

Alyssa seemed a little more relaxed, to Lewis’s relief. “I’d like that.”

WE GET TO SPEND TIME WITH HER! THIS IS GREAT!

Play it cool! She already knows that half the pack left because we’re too weak to convince them we’re a good Alpha. If we look like an idiot too…

OH SHUT UP! His wolf snapped at it. Don’t pretend you’re not super excited. We’re the same person!

…Stupid wolf.

Silly human.

... Lewis was excited. So excited he could hardly breathe. His mate was right here, in front of him. She was smart, beautiful, friendly… at least to everyone else… more than he could have ever dared to dream of.

I just want her to like us… any ideas?

I still vote for bringing her food or showing her our genitals. .

… Never mind… I’ll think of something.

________________________

A few weeks passed.

Alyssa sat on the cool grass, watching Lewis in wolf form teaching some of the younger pack members how to fight.

“Watch out for each other.” His voice resounded her mind. “You can’t be so focused on the enemy that you lose track of what’s behind you.”

Having never spent any time prior to this visit around other werewolves, she was interested to find that although she did understand some of wolf language – a combination of scents, sounds and body language – the majority of the time werewolves simply spoke through mental communication.

Lewis batted one of the young wolves aside, snapping at another’s flank and using his weight to push a third to the ground, baring his teeth. The fallen wolf whimpered slightly, more with frustration than pain.

“Alpha, I thought we had to focus all of our attention on the attack, and not stop until the enemy was dead?” The youngest of the three, a male wolf named Teddy, finally spoke up, his tail between his legs. “How are we supposed to do that AND watch our backs?”

“Who told you that?” Lewis seemed shocked. “You are nothing without your pack! Only by working together and looking out for each other will you be at your strongest.”

“It was Uncle Ben…mmph” Teddy’s voice was muffled as the other two wolves tackled him.

“Sorry Alpha, he’s a little dumb.” Teddy’s sister Lara apologized, grinding her brother’s muzzle into the dirt with a paw. “Of course we aren’t going to follow what the traitor Nightfang taught us.”

“But LARA…”

“SHUT UP and let me get us out of this, idiot!”

Lewis stared at them for a few minutes, and then laughed silently in our heads. “It’s okay. I know he was in charge of teaching fighting for years. It’s a different strategy, but give my idea a shot before you dismiss it, okay?”

“YES ALPHA!” The three younger wolves shouted in unison.

“…” Alyssa studied Lewis with a thoughtful expression. He was kind enough to the pups, even when they challenged him and brought up his brother’s name. He didn’t lash out, just calmly guiding them forward. If she didn’t know better, she would think the mention of his brother didn’t bother him at all.

But she could feel it.

Behind his kind words, there was a deep agony. Fear, hurt, betrayal. He resented that his brother left the pack, that he split the pack with his leaving. He regretted that he had let his brother teach the pups… that he taught the pups to be killers rather than to defend and protect the pack. Feared being compared to his brother at every turn.

But mostly… he blamed himself. Hated that he wasn’t a strong enough Alpha to force the pack to stay together. He wished desperately that he could be a better leader… more like his father.

Alyssa rubbed her chest idly, feeling a pain in her heart that wasn’t physical but still wishing to ease it. She could sense his self-doubt, his feelings of helplessness, but was unsure what to do with the knowledge.

Over the last few weeks, they had spent a lot of time together. She had come to recognize that he was as kind as he first seemed, very different than what her book research had led her to expect. He was strong… she could see that in every move her made, especially in his wolf form… but he didn’t seem to place his importance on that strength.

His mother had described him well. He was strong, careful… and he put his pack first.

The closer they got, the more she learned about him, the more she could feel through their bond. His emotions, his mental state. She couldn’t hear his thoughts, not unless he was mentally communicating in wolf form. The information she was getting, however, was almost more than she could bear.

It made her terrified to guess what he could sense about her.

That’s how bonding goes. He is our soul mate. We can’t hide from him.

“…” Alyssa ignored her wolf, mad that she was telling the truth.

“Are you okay?” Alyssa looked up at Lewis’s mental question, startled to see his wolf’s face right in front of her own. “Did something upset you?”

“… What would you do if something did?”

“Help you. No matter what.” His mental voice was firm… reassuring.

“What if it was you that upset me?” Alyssa was curious how he would answer that.

“… If I did something, please let me know… I don’t want to hurt you, even by accident.” He paused. “If you don’t feel comfortable telling me… then my mom or Bridget would be happy to listen. And of course beat me up for whatever I did…”

SORRY WE UPSET YOU MATE! WOULD YOU LIKE MEAT?! Startled, Alyssa realized she could hear Lewis’s wolf directly. He sounded a lot like Lewis, but slightly more… straightforward.

TELL HIM WE LIKE MEAT! Alyssa’s wolf shouted with frustration. OR SHIFT SO I CAN TELL HIM MYSELF!

“How can I hear your wolf? I thought that could only happen after mating?”

Lewis shook his head, the motion strange appearing when performed by a wolf. “I’m not sure… I’ve never been mated before… but I think as our bond deepens we’ll hear more. I can’t hear your wolf now… if she’s speaking…”

I AM SPEAKING! TELL HIM I WANT THE STEAK HE HAS IN THE FREEZER!

“…But if you were in wolf form I might. Their control is a little stronger in that form. One day we might be able to hear each other’s wolves even when in human form.”

“…”

We like you, Mate! We think you are smart and pretty and smell nice! We spend a lot of time arguing over what would make you like us! Lewis’s wolf chimed in.

“Shush…” Lewis tried to interrupt, but the wolf kept talking.

I wanted to bring you meat and expose our genitals to reassure you of our virility, but he insisted that would make you mad.

His wolf is smart. Alyssa’s wolf approved. That would have made me happy.

“…Your wolf and my wolf are on the same page. I have no desire to see genitals, though.”

“No worries, there’s a firm ‘no flashing’ rule in place. “

Her stomach rumbled. “Wouldn’t say no to a steak though!”

Hooray! We’ll bring you the tastiest of the steaks!

See, he loves us enough to bring us the best steak! We should mate him now!

Lewis ran behind a tree and shifted, quickly changing into loose fitting shorts and t-shirt. Alyssa had learned the hard way that the pack had very little sense of modesty.

After numbing her brain to the sight of naked people who had transformed back from wolf form multiple times, she had come to somewhat accept it as normal.

She was still glad that Lewis tried to not be naked in front of her. Although she was now realizing that this might have more to do with avoiding his wolf’s desire to show off genitals then anything else.

“Let’s go.” He smiled, the expression causing her heart to skip a quick beat, and held out his hand. After a short hesitation, she took it, feeling as always the thrill that came from touching him.

They walked together in silence.

As they neared the house, Lewis spoke up. “You know everyone likes you here.”

Alyssa tensed up. “But…?”

“No buts. They just like you.” He let out a quiet sigh. “You don’t have to try this hard.”

“…”

“You look relaxed when you’re talking with the pack. You’re smiling and joking around… you’ve even got half of them addicted to those werewolf romance novels… I mean your research…” He chuckled, squeezing her hand with his own. “But I can feel it, Lyss. I can feel how stressed out you are… how hard you’re trying to make them like you.”

“I…” Alyssa started to talk but then fell silent.

I told you he knows us.

“I’m not judging.” He smiled bitterly. “I wish I had met you much earlier. I don’t know what your life has been like leading up to now. I just want you to know that people like you for the weird, lovely person you are. You can try to relax a little.”

Alyssa thought his words over. “Growing up… being liked… it was safer. Especially if you were the weird kid who had a wolf voice in her head. I learned early how to read people, and act the way they wanted. I’ve grown out of it some… it does get very tiring. But I don’t know if I could completely stop, even if I wanted to.”

“That’s okay.” He grinned. “Just know that I care about you... honestly maybe more than that, although it’s just been a few weeks. You never have to try to get on my good side.”

“I don’t think we ever tried to do that.”

We tried to scare him off. And instead he treated us better than anyone else.

He grinned. “Good. Then I guess I got to see a closer side to you than most… even if it was not meant as a compliment.”

Alyssa felt scared by this. His care. His acceptance of her. Even worse by the fact she could feel through the bond that it was completely genuine.

“Don’t let it worry you too much. Let’s just take it a day at a time for now.”

She sighed with relief at his words. “Thanks.”

“No problem.” He thought it over for a moment. “Wait? What about your job at the bookstore? You’ve been here two weeks without notice? Do you still have a job?”

“You don’t need to worry about it.”

You’ll have to tell him eventually.

“If you say so.” His expression and mental state were a little sad, but she ignored it.

She would take it one step at a time, just like Lewis suggested.

________________________

Lewis was going a little crazy.

It had been a month. He spent every day at his mate’s side. Every day talking with Alyssa, laughing with her, getting to know her more and more. As they grew closer, he couldn’t help but wish for more.

They had just returned from a run through the forest in their wolf forms. He loved spending time with her wolf as well. She was much smaller than him, with silver fur and grey eyes that saw right through him. Her wolf self was much more open and playful, often pulling him to play or run through the forest. His wolf was enamored with her, yelling out offers to feed her or provide her with pups… or both. Her wolf was in hearty agreement, only to be silenced by Alyssa, who still seemed somewhat uncomfortable about the whole situation.

Lewis was happy. He hoped she would continue to stay with the pack… stay with him. He just wasn’t sure how long that would last. Fortunately she seemed completely unconcerned about how much time she took off the bookstore.

He shifted back behind a tree, changing into his clothes stuffed nearby and staring down at the ground until he heard she was done doing the same. Stepping out of his hiding spot he grinned and offered his hand.

“Should we get something to eat?”

Alyssa took his hand without hesitation. “Sure. What should we make?” Lewis felt his heartbeat speed up at her casual use of “we”.

STEAK!

STEAK PLEASE!

Their wolves chimed in, making them both shake their heads.

“How about pasta?” He asked. Feeling the wolves’ disappointment he added “We can have meat in the sauce.

YES!

Our mate is the best!

Lewis couldn’t help but chuckle at that. Her wolf likes me at least.

“ALPHA!” Gary’s panicked voice caused him to turn, seeing the large man running towards them fully naked.

Seeing Alyssa look towards the ground, Lewis couldn’t help but growl with annoyance. “Can’t you put pants on?”

“No time.” He skidded to a halt, trying to catch his breath. “It’s your brother…”

His heart stopped.

Benjamin. Nightfang. His brother. His enemy.

“What has he done?”

Gary’s face was grim. “He’s invaded. The South Segment.”

Lewis pulled off his clothes, shifting to his wolf form.

“Are there any of our pack patrolling in the area?”

“I let Teddy and Lara take that segment… it was supposed to be our safest area…” Gary rubbed his face looking horrified. “I thought it would be okay.”

“Stay here. Protect the pack. I’ll get the young wolves.”

His silent voice projected across the entire territory.

“Everyone. We are under attack. Go to your designated areas. The Nightfang pack has definitely invaded the South Segment, but it could be a distraction. DO NOT LET DOWN YOUR GUARD! Watch each others’ backs. I’m going after Teddy and Lara who were last seen in the attacked area. Listen to the Beta while I’m gone."

He hesitated mentally, continuing to run as fast as possible to the south segment, and then reached out privately to Alyssa.

“Please keep yourself safe. If you want to fight I won’t stop you, stay near Gary. If you want to stay out of the fight, go hide in the house with my mom. The pack is instructed to guard it. “

“I… “ He trailed off, unsure of how to finish the sentence.

TELL OUR MATE YOU LOVE HER!

He wanted to. He wanted to express the thoughts, the emotions that had slowly sprouted within him in the time they had spent together. To say everything he had wanted to say when he was by her side.

But he couldn’t.

We’re not strong. We can barely protect our pack. She won’t want us. She doesn’t trust us yet.

He reached out for what he hoped wouldn’t be the last time to his beloved mate.

“Stay safe.”

With that, he continued towards the south sector.

Calling out for Teddy and Lara as he neared the attacked area, Lewis wasn’t getting any answers. He tried not to think too hard about what that could mean.

They might just be unconscious… they might not be… His wolf trailed off, hesitating.

I don’t know what Ben… what Nightfang is capable of. He might kill them. But if there is a chance they are still alive… we have to try.

He slowed down, his paws silently stepping on the soft earth. He stayed on high alert, listening for any possible signs of the intruders.

Don’t let your guard down. Someone is close. His wolf could feel the intrusion on the Packs’ territory, it bothered him.

There, in the clearing! Lewis spotted two small wolf forms laying still on the ground. Praying they were just knocked out, he crouched down and inched closer.

They were breathing.

He let out a silent sigh of relief. Scouting around, there were at least two from the NightFang pack in the clearing with the pups.

Only two.

Where’s the rest of that bastard’s pack?! Where’s Ben? His wolf snarled within him.

It’s a distraction.He had known there was a possibility. But he couldn’t leave the two young wolves for dead. He couldn’t.

And Nightfang knew that.

Let’s save them quickly and head straight back. Hopefully Gary will keep things together until we return.

I miss our mate. I hope she’s okay.

… Me too.

Lewis attacked from the shadows. Normally he would owe them a noise, some sort of warning of his approach. He should give them the chance to surrender. To run away.

He didn’t warn them. They had invaded his pack’s territory. Kidnapped and attacked their young wolves. They knew the consequences.

One wolf screamed in pain and fear as his hamstring was shredded between Lewis’ teeth. He shifted in his confusion and shock, the bloody mess even worse in human form. Lewis had already turned to the next one.

He snapped at the enemy’s flank, and as the wolf dodged to avoid his teeth, used his much heavier muscle mass to push him to the ground. He grabbed his throat, resting his canines against the carotid pulse. The wolf grew still, not wanting to push him into ending his life.

“SPEAK! What is that traitor’s plan?”

The wolf whined at his mental command, but stayed silent. Lewis began closing his jaw. We don’t have time for this. The pack is in danger. Our mate is in danger.

“He’s attacking from the West!” Sensing death close by, the wolf began to mindspeak. “He wants to wipe out your pack while you’re distracted.”

Lewis opened his jaw slightly, considering his options. If I let him go he could warn the others.

Kill him.

He surrendered.

The pack must be protected.

Let me knock him out.

“Weakling.” A snarl came behind him, and he realized it was the man whose hamstring he had torn out. Swinging a metal bar at his head. At the same time, the wolf he had pinned bucked with teeth bared, trying to throw him off and attack.

Lewis dodged, clamping down his teeth as he moved, tearing the carotid and jugular with the sharp points of his teeth. He let go, tasting blood, knowing that the wolf beneath him was dead.

One left.

Before the attacker could say anything, Lewis jumped, fangs bared, and tore his throat out as well.

We did it.

He nudged Lara, the older of the two wolves, relieved when she woke up right away.

“Grab your brother and go to the main house.” His tone didn’t allow room for argument. She nodded silently, shaking awake her brother, and the two ran into the forest.

Lewis couldn’t help but chastise himself as he watched them move away. I hesitated.

You’re our kind half. I am the viciousness we hold, the killer instinct.

I’m weak.

We have to have both, or we’ll either be a tyrant killer or a ineffective Alpha. Now stop having a personal crisis and go SAVE OUR MATE.

Lewis nodded grimly, padding off into the forest towards where he could sense the pack.

It’s time to end this.

He ran into more enemy wolves as he neared the center of his territory. This time he sighed, giving up control to his wolf. His wolf seemed relieved at taking over, fighting both enemies to severe injury or death before moving forward.

Mate. He picked up the pace.

________________________

Alyssa had never been in a fight before. At least not with other wolves.

Don’t worry, I got this. Her wolf took over and leapt at the nearest attacker. Gary and Bridget were to either side of her, their much larger wolves defending her flank.

“There’s a lot of them, but I think we’ve got control.” Gary communicated calmly, his frantic attacks never slowing.

“They seem disorganized. “ Bridgett’s silent voice conveyed her disapproval. “Did they come here just to die?”

As her wolf continued to fight, leaping nimbly in between the snarling wolves, Alyssa studied her surroundings.

This is too easy. They’re injured… starving… what have they been doing in their territory?

Her wolf had no sympathy. Bad alphas make bad packs.

She looked around in the chaos. Everywhere she looked wolves were snapping at each other. Blood stained the cold ground, trampled into the dirt churning it into mud. Howls and whines of pain filled the air.

“I don’t see him.” She communicated to the other pack members.

“Who”? Gary trampled his enemy into the mud, his jaw locking on the throat of the other wolf. “Lewis?”

“No. Benjamin. I don’t sense an alpha in this group. Shouldn’t he be larger or stronger than the rest? Where is he?”

“Maybe the Southern Sector? An alpha fight?”

“No.” Alyssa’s mind was racing. “He doesn’t seem like the type to respect Lewis enough to fight him head on. 64% of the stories show the villain attempting some sort of sneak attack. The South Sector was a distraction… and so is this. They sent their weaker, injured members to fight us.”

That means….

She took off for the main house.

Alyssa! Bridgett called out. Where are you going?

To where the real fight is.

She crashed into the house, skidding to a halt at the sight of Lewis and his mother.

No… it’s not Lewis.Their faces were very similar, but everything else was wrong: his scent, his expression, his posture.

He smells dangerous… aggressive… Her wolf complained. He’s everything our mate isn’t.

I don’t like him.

Me either… he’s scary.

We should be careful.

She kept a defensive posture, her hackles raised, her teeth bared.

Benjamin looked down at her with a mocking smile. “Ah. The princess is here.”

His mother glared at him, holding a gun in her hand. To Alyssa’s shock there were already two large wolf bodies on the floor, cooling blood spilling from multiple bullet wounds. “Don’t you look at her, Ben! You came here for me.”

“It’s Nightfang now, Mother.” Ben laughed. “And you can’t tell me what to do. Not anymore. You lost that right when you betrayed me to side with my weak brother.”

Alyssa advanced closer.

“Oh don’t give her that crap, Benjamin. You might pretend to be mysterious and evil but you’re just pathetic. You aren’t Nightfang, or Eveningclaw or even Morning-freaking-wood. You are Ben. A bitter little boy who is mad at his mommy and daddy for giving the pack to your brother.” She kept her gaze on his, and his green eyes had trouble continuing to look into her own. “Never understanding why they made the choice, even though it’s obvious to anyone else.”

“Oh really?”

“I’ve only known you for a single minute and I wouldn’t trust you to be in charge of a self-cleaning litter box, much less actual people’s lives. “

“Well, well, Princess. That’s just needlessly cruel. Trying to rile me up? Distract me?” He shook his head sadly. “That only works in stories. It’s true that I’m very disappointed in my parents’ choice. They thought I was too violent to lead. That I didn’t care enough about the pack. But I did. I’m the only one who does.”

“Sure.” She circled around, spotting one of her bags close to the wall.

“Be careful, Alyssa.” Lewis’s Mom called out, still pointing her gun at her own son. “He’s dangerous.”

“You used up all your shots in the initial attack, Mom. Don’t embarrass yourself by pretending it’s still a threat.” Benjamin reached out and took the gun from her. “I forgive you for killing my men. But you should some respect when addressing her.”

“What are you…?” She looked over at Alyssa, who stayed silent.

“You didn’t tell them? ...Interesting.” He rubbed his face, a mocking grin starting to form. “Maybe you don’t even know?”

“Shut up. “ Alyssa leapt forward, reaching for his throat. Throwing himself backwards, Benjamin shifted as he moved. At the change she miscalculated, slamming into the much larger wolf, her teeth closing on only the fur around his neck.

“You want to fight? I’ll fight.” His wolf charged, snapping at her flank while she twisted desperately to avoid him. He was larger, stronger… but she was definitely more agile.

This isn’t a winning strategy. We can’t face him head on. Her wolf was directing the movements, keeping them alive from moment to moment as Benjamin pressed the attack.

I know that… Circle around towards the back of the room. I have an idea.

They growled, running in and taking a small chunk out of his foreleg before darting in the direction Alyssa had spotted earlier. Benjamin howled in pain, slamming her with his weight, throwing her smaller form enough to slam her against the wall. At the impact she shifted, turning into her more vulnerable form.

I don’t like this. We’re easier to kill this way.

“Not excited about being naked either, but it’s necessary.” She muttered, her hands working quickly.

“He should have protected you better than this.” Benjamin laughed silently in her head. “He didn’t even realize what a treasure he had.”

SLAM!

A grey form jumped through the air, landing on Benjamin and knocking him to the ground. As they straightened up Alyssa recognized her mate with a sense of terror and relief. Relief that he was here. Terror that he was now in danger.

The two alpha wolves circled each other.

“You should have just found your own territory.” Lewis silent voice was grim, full of his authority as Alpha. “Even with your treachery, I was willing to let you go.”

“That’s because you’re weak. This is MY territory. MY pack. You are the one who has to die. And as for your lovely mate who you know so little about… how about I take her too?”

He sighed at his brother’s words. “You’re forcing me to kill you.”

“Lewis, push him my way!” Alyssa called out silently through their connection.

“That’ll put you in danger!”

“Trust me!”

Lewis ducked his head, the almost submissive posture throwing his brother into confusion. As Benjamin hesitated, Lewis charged forward, aiming not for his throat or other vulnerable points, but at his feet. Throwing all his weight behind it, Lewis tripped him up, pushing him back- straight towards Alyssa.

“Here you go! Be careful!”

“Thanks!”

“You just put your mate in harm’s way! She’s defenseless!” He snarled, turning his attention to Alyssa’s vulnerable state. “Fool!”

BZZZT

His form seized for a brief moment and collapsed to the ground,

“Nope!” Alyssa grinned and held up her Taser. “He just trusts his mate!”

“…”

“…”

There was a brief stunned silence.

“I’m so glad you’re okay!” Lewis’ mother leaned against the counter, looking relieved.

“Just one more thing.” Alyssa held up a finger. Reaching down, she grabbed her overly loaded suitcase filled with her research books.

BAM! And raised it over her head, slamming it down on top of Benjamin.

“Oof.” Both Lewis and his mother winced, but made no move to stop her.

“That’s for attacking me. Not to mention what you’ve done to Lewis!” She then reached down and pulled an ampule out of one of the pockets, stabbing Benjamin in the arm with it.

“What is that?”

“Tranquilizer.” She answered, making sure the drug injected okay.

“It’s very effective.” Lewis laughed silently in their heads, and then slowly shifting back to his human form. His green eyes met her own, and neither looked away for a long a moment.

“Are you okay?”

“Are you alright?”

They asked at the same time. Alyssa smelled his blood and panicking, ran over to look at him closely. “Where are you hurt?”

She grabbed his arm, finding a small cut there, and continued to look at his limbs.

Lewis froze. “Umm… Could we do this with clothing on?”

“…” Alyssa stepped back, rubbing her forehead as she realized that they were both naked and she had been feeling him over. “…Sure.”

“…Well” Lewis’s mother broke the silence with an awkward cough. “I’m going to go see to the pack. You two… talk.” She gave them a thumbs up and slipped out.

THIS IS A PERFECT CHANCE TO DISPLAY YOUR GENITALS! WHY DID YOU RUIN IT!Lewis’ wolf spoke up, frustrated.

“That’s not even a wolf mating ritual.” Lewis hissed. “Will you leave it alone?!”

Don’t worry! Her wolf chimed in. We don’t think you’re impotent anymore!

“See…”

So we should just get straight to the mating!

AGREE!

Lewis and Alyssa sighed slightly at their wolves’ excitement, and looked down at Benjamin, still unconscious on the floor.

“What do we do to him?” She asked, feeling tired.

“Do you still have some of those chains?” Taking the object she handed to him, Lewis bound the now human form of his brother, sneaking in a single kick in the process. “We’ll send him to the Council. He’s broken every law that I know of.”

“… You know in all the stories where he’s not killed the villain escapes and causes trouble again.”

Lewis sighed at that. “I know it would be safer to kill him. But… I…” He trailed off, looking conflicted.

“It’s okay.” She patted his arm, avoiding the injury she found before. “If you were able to kill him so easily you wouldn’t be you.”

“I worry sometimes that I’m too weak to be an Alpha.”

“I know. And I’m sure there’s probably some perfect balance of strength and mercy… but you don’t have to have everything figured out right away.”

“…thanks.”

She shrugged. “Besides, isn’t your sister still out there? Maybe the council can use Benjamin to figure out where she is.”

After handing Benjamin off to Gary and Bridgett to guard (And having them both fuss over Alyssa to make sure she was okay) the two went back to their rooms to change. Alyssa stared at the wall of her temporary bedroom, feeling conflicted.

He’s our mate. He’ll understand.

“I know. And that’s what scares me.”

Finishing her brief hesitation, she walked over to Lewis’ room, knocking on the door.

“Come in.”

“We need to talk.”

________________________

Lewis was extremely nervous as he waved his mate to sit down on the bed. He took the chair on the other side of the room.

What if she doesn’t want to stay?

She’s our mate! His wolf answered his nervous thoughts. She won’t abandon us!

“I don’t know what you told him, but your wolf is right.” Alyssa spoke up. “We won’t abandon you. Not over something silly like your evil twin brother trying to invade and kill us all.”

Lewis let out the breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. “That’s a relief.” He leaned back in his chair. “So what do you want to talk to me about?”

She stared at the ground a few moments before painfully continuing. “So I told you I grew up in the foster system, right?”

“Right.”

“So the part I didn’t tell you… is that a few years back, around the time I turned 18… a weird guy came and found me.”

Lewis growled. “Did he try to hurt you?”

“No. Quite the opposite. He said he was a friend of my family. He wasn’t one of us… definitely human.” She ran her fingers through her hair, obviously unhappy. “He wouldn’t tell me who they were, or why they abandoned me. He just said they had no choice.”

“That’s crap. I don’t know their situation but their only option was to abandon a baby?” HE shook his head. “Something’s off.”

“I thought so too. I told him to get lost.” She hesitated. “And he gave me a million dollars.”

“What…?

“He said it was a small gift from my parents. I don’t know who my family is, or what they were involved in, but it’s probably big… and definitely not good.”

Lewis processed this for a few moments. “So your job at the bookstore?”

“I actually own it. But I have a manager run it. I stop by occasionally and shelve books while I look for new research.”

“So…” He grinned. “Does this mean you can stay longer and not worry about losing your job?”

“…”

“… Is that what you’re thinking about?” Alyssa demanded, her hands twisting in the fabric of her t-shirt. “You’re not worried about unknown schemes, powerful families… who knows what nonsense could happen! I swear, haven’t you ever read one of these novels?!”

Lewis picked up the book on the table nearby. “I started reading through a few at your suggestion.

“The Seductive Alpha’s bride?” She raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

“It’s research! I’m trying to learn how to be a better mate!”

He’s hoping to learn how to make himself more attractive! His wolf added.

We already think you’re both attractive!

Great! Let’s mate then!

Agree!

“Not yet!” Alyssa stepped in as their wolves got carried away once more. “Although she’s right… we do think you’re attractive…”

“Really?”

“But how about we go slow… like a date, first?”

“A date!” Lewis jumped up, his mind racing. “Yes! Let me grab my car…”

“We were just attacked… remember?”

He stopped at her gentle reminder. “Oh. Right. How about after we get things sorted out?”

She smiled, the expression causing his heart to race.

“I’d like that.”

They fell into a comfortable silence.

“So how accurate has your research been so far?” He asked after a while, curious.

“The books?” She thought it over. “You know, considering the Alphas and the relationships I’ve read about?” She looked him over again. “I’d say I was a little surprised.”

“In a good way?” His tone was hopeful, he couldn’t help it.

“Yes. As for the future though?” She leaned in and kissed his cheek. “The majority of these stories have a happy ending. But we’ll just have to see.”

Lewis touched the spot that had been kissed, smiling. “A happy ending, huh? I’d like that.”

[whoacanada]

Zimmerbro AU

Summary: Andrew Phillip Rowe could skate before he could walk, and it wasn’t until he was almost twenty and well on his way to becoming a Las Vegas Ace before he knew why.

a/n: that’s right we’ve got a secret zimmermann brother au based on the fact that Bob was an active pro athlete for almost 15 years before Jack was born and almost definitely had relationships before Alicia. This particular one resulted in a secret love child.

When the call finally went out that year —  a request for players willing to billet the incoming draftees —  Andrew had been the first in line.

His already sparsely decorated guest room had been primed for a new tenant since he’d learned Las Vegas’ abysmal season had earned them the first pick of the 2009 draft. In his mind, Andrew had envisioned a tearful confession. A family reunion nineteen years in the making where he’d finally get a chance to connect with a half-brother he’d grown up learning about through news articles and stats pages.

He wasn’t ready for Jack to pull out of the draft days before the ceremony; wasn’t ready for the claims of an overdose or speculation about suicide attempts. He certainly wasn’t expecting to have to open his home to a young man with limp blonde hair and deep circles under his eyes with the same enthusiasm he’d promised he’d offer to a son of Bob Zimmermann.

Andrew was hoping for a little brother. 

He got Kent Parson instead.

______

“You remind me of my boyfriend.” Kent slurs one night, completely gone on Johnny Walker Blue borrowed from Andrew’s wet bar. “It’s your . . . face.”

“Shouldn’t talk about things like that,” Andrew cautions gently, covering his own surprise. “Never know who might be listening.”

“Who fucking cares? He won’t talk to me,” Kent continues, ignoring him and sniffing like he’s on the verge of sobbing or puking, both options equally unwanted. “They wouldn’t tell me if he was even alive.”

Another unwanted puzzle piece locks into place.

“Jack?” Andrew suggests softly, and Kent begins to cry.

“You won’t tell right?”

Andrew shakes his head no, long enough for Kent’s bleary eyes to focus on the gesture and take it seriously.

Things are different, after that conversation. Not worse, or better, just different.

________

“He’s my brother.”

Andrew admits this one night, for no reason other than that he can.

Kent is across the room, backlit by lights from the Strip, his legs dangling off the arm of his favorite couch as he scrolls through his phone looking for distractions. Parse hasn’t lived with Andrew for almost two seasons, but he still turns up like a bad penny whenever he needs to commiserate with someone who knows his more lascivious secrets. Truthfully, Andrew’s grateful for the company. He’s a pretty genial guy, but he’s always kept his distance, a personality trait he likes to think he shares with an unassuming sibling, but there’s no way to know for sure. The farther Andrew gets from the 2009 Draft, the less faith he has in a reunion that won’t just bring crippling sorrow to everyone involved.

A secret Zimmermann son who actually made it in the NHL. Who has his name on the Stanley Cup, not once, but twice, largely thanks to the spitfire forward lounging in Andrew’s living room.

“Who’s your brother?” Kent asks, not looking up from his phone.

“Jack Zimmermann.”

Kent barks a laugh and rolls his head lazily to smirk at Andrew.

“That’s funny. I guess you kinda have the same chin. Was Marky digging for chirps?”

Andrew has no idea what that means, but he sets down his tablet and says, “No, he’s actually my half-brother. My mom dated Bad Bob in ’84 and got pregnant.”

The lackadaisical smile on Kent’s face falters as his gaze sharpens, like he’s actually looking at Andrew for the first time. Andrew responds by gesturing at himself lamely.

“That’s not funny.”

“No.” Andrew agrees. “It isn’t.”

Kent swings his feet down off the couch and braces himself against the overstuffed leather. He doesn’t look mad, but there’s something too close to disbelief for Andrew to convince himself everything’s okay. It takes a moment, but Kent must find what he’s looking for on Andrew’s face.

“Does Bob know?” Kent asks with that familiar overfamiliarity, as if they both still have some personal relationship with the living legend.

“Yeah. When Mom got pregnant she told him she didn’t want the attention since it was only a fling — ”

“Who the fuck doesn’t lock down Bob Zimmermann?” Kent breathes. “Also, why the fuck did she tell you that?”

“No shit, right? She got him to sign away parental rights, set up a trust, never spoke to him again as far as I know. I didn’t find out until after I signed with the Aces. She didn’t want me to get blindsided if it all came out, but the story never broke.”

“I mean, does Bob know who you are?” Kent questions. “Does Jack?”

Andrew shakes his head no, because he doesn’t think so, and Kent flops back against the cushions, face slack with disbelief; it doesn’t take long for his features to shift to anger.

“You knew this whole time and you didn’t tell me? Even after I told you —“

“Okay, there’s a whole-ass difference between you fucking dudes and and me being ‘Bad Bob’s bastard’,” Andrew bites, curtailing Kent’s imminent hissy fit. Appropriately, Kent closes his mouth, almost pouting.

“Fine. But that’s fucked.” Kent says after a loaded moment of silence. “I’m sorry you’re . . . you.”

“Yeah. I’m sorry you’re you, too.”

“You know Jack’s signing with the Falconers, right?” Kent offers like the worst kind of olive branch, unintentionally telling Andrew exactly what he was up to during that stretch of time between New England games a few months prior. “It’s not public but it’s happening. Ink’s dry.”

“I know. That’s why I told you. It’s gonna be weird,” Andrew swallows, thinking about playing Providence in the coming months.

“Fucking right it’s weird.”

_________

For the most part, the Las Vegas Aces are decent, stand up guys. Even with the accusations of gambling debts and mob connections with the ownership group, Andrew’s never been asked to hit a certain player a little too hard, or to take a dive so the other team gets a shot at a power play. A lot of talk, a lot of conspiracies, ‘Typical Aces hockey’, but there’s no malice. Not really.

Andrew thinks it’s hilarious he plays the game a lot like his estranged father, but he’s not a legend in the making, hell, at this point he’s barely regarded as more than a mid-level, reliable center that can bring home 40 points a season.

Carly whips behind Zimmermann’s back to clip his skate with a stick, dropping a ill advised chirp that sets every player in earshot on edge. Parse is close enough to catch the quiet slur, stiffening like he’s been hit, and Andrew watches Zimmermann recover quickly, steely and resolute. 

Jack has his mother’s eyes — not the warm brown Andrew catches every time he looks in the mirror.

“He’s a fucking goon,” Andrew breathes, gliding up to Jack’s shoulder in lieu of an apology. Zimmermann doesn’t miss a beat, his gaze flicking to Andrew with the quiet rage of ‘who gives a fuck’. Andrew admires his commitment to the game. Coming back after so much, after so long, to willingly subject himself to the same kind of treatment that Andrew knows likely led to his original fall from grace.

“Hey,” Kent ducks his head as he slides up a little while later, mouthguard clenched between his teeth, and asks, “You see his twink?”

At Andrew’s obvious confusion, Kent jerks his head toward the glass behind the Falconers’ bench, to a raucous group of fans all sporting fresh Zimmermann jerseys. Andrew’s gaze drifts along the row of faces, lingering longer on the familiar, handsome couple beside the blonde young man. He may be imagining things — the stadium lights catching a bad angle —  but for the briefest moment, Andrew holds eye contact with his father.

“He’s cute, right?” Kent says bitterly, like he doesn’t have a partner of his own back home.

“Yeah, he is. You gonna do anything about the slurs, Captain?” Andrew counters, earning a stern look from Parson.

“I’ll deal with Carly.”

“Oh, you will? Because I’ve never seen you shut him down before.”

“I’ll handle it.”

Kent’s expression goes stormy, and he gives Andrew a hard shove before skating off to set up for the next shift. To his credit, he does grab Carly by the arm and tell him something that earns a look of displeasure from the larger man, but Andrew knows a verbal warning won’t curtail someone as dead-set in his conservatism as Carly.

The next play, Carly flashes Andrew a toothy smile over the lineman’s shoulder, as if they’re in on the same joke, and his vision goes red.

__________

__________

“Bad Bob’s outside,” Scraps rasps, like whatever brief interaction he’s just had has physically winded him. “He wants to talk to Flip.”

Andrew blinks up from the water bottle in his hands, previously concerned with the pink-stained gauze wrapped around his knuckles. A few of the guys start chirping, but most of them remain silent, still processing the fact that Andrew assaulted one of their own without clear motivation, in defense of an opponent.

“That’s what this was all about? You gunning for a trade?” Sorenson spits from his stall. “Needed to impress Bad Bob by beating the snot out of Carly?”

“Maybe I am,” Andrew sighs, pushing himself to his feet, wincing at the way his jaw aches from the few good hits Carly had managed to squeeze in before he went down. “What the fuck are you gonna do about it.”

_______

Andrew’s grateful he kept his skates on. He needs the boost of confidence that comes with the added height, especially when he finds Bob Zimmermann waiting patiently in the corridor like he’s just another staff member and not the second most recognizable figure in modern hockey.

“Hey kid,” Bob greets, casting an approving, overly-familiar eye over Andrew’s padded bulk and sweat-slick hair. “You can throw a hell of a punch. Don’t think I’ve ever seen a guy beat the piss out of a teammate before. Off ice, sure, but never during a game.”

His accent is just as thick in private as every interview Andrew’s ever caught live — but his tone is unexpectedly warm, even grateful — when Bob laughs at his own recounting of Andrew’s assault attempt, the sound is light and joyous like nothing in the world comes easier to this titan of a man.

Andrew wonders if Bob can recognize the chin they share beneath a his playoff beard; if there’s any resemblance left in a nose that’s been reset a half-dozen times.

Andrew grew up loved and never wanted for anything. His step-fathers, both of them, had been good men who never left him looking for a father figure. It wasn’t until his twenties that Andrew even realized there was hole where his bio-dad should have been, and not just a regular hole, a yawning sinkhole threatening to devour his entire sense of self, because his biological father turned out to be a man he grew up idolizing as a personal hero.

He’s not mad at his mother, but when Andrew struggles to find his voice — which is bullshit seeing as he’s almost thirty-five and a god-damned professional athlete — he can’t stop himself from feeling like a misplaced child.

“Do you,” Andrew swallows, looking over Bob’s shoulder to see if anyone’s watching them. Finding they’re alone, he rallies quietly, “Do you know who I am?”

Bob’s jovial expression softens into something remorseful, but unfathomably kind. “I do, buddy,” he acknowledges, somehow squeezing three decades of affection into one term of endearment. “I’ve known for some time, now. The whole time, actually.”

That hurts more than expected.

“Does your wife? Does Jack?”

Bob shakes his head, but it isn’t a hard no.

“Alicia knows, and Jack has some idea he’s got a half-brother, but it’s all in the abstract. No specifics. Definitely doesn’t know you play. I wanted to respect your privacy and your mother’s wishes. She let me know she’d told you the truth a few years back and I wanted to give you the space you needed if you decided to reach out. When you didn’t, well, a man makes assumptions.”

Andrew looks down at the concrete beneath his skates and sniffs hard, fighting nasal drip from the smelling salts he’d needed in the third period; or, at least, that’s what he tells himself. “I had a plan, back when — ” he stops himself, looking down at his skates. Bob’s eyebrows lift in curiosity, leaving room for Andrew to gather his thoughts, but he doesn’t take the bait, unable to bring up what could have been just yet. Bob seems to grasp the context after the moment.

“2009,” he acknowledges softly. “Hell of a year.”

“Yeah. It was. Is he okay?”

“What, Jack? He’s leagues ahead of where he was then —”

“No, I mean, tonight. Carly clipped him pretty hard before I got in there.”

“Oh, a little bruised up, but he’ll live. Are you?”

“Am I what?”

“Okay.”

Andrew looks down at his bandaged fist and realizes he’s completely forgotten how gnarly his face must look.

“Trainer says I’m alright, but I’m gonna get leveled with a wicked fine, I know it.”

“Was it worth it?” There’s a look of guilty pride on Bob’s face, like the man’s enjoying himself a little too much when he leans in and whispers, “You just did something I’ve wanted to do since Jack was in mites. Fucking lay out one of those fuckers that’s got nothing better to do than bitch because they can’t play,” there’s a moment of hesitation, as if he’s worried about pushing a boundary, before he adds, “How’d it feel to look out for your little brother?”

Pride, it turns out, in contagious, and Andrew feels like he could go back on the ice and do it all over again. “Pretty fucking great,” Andrew can’t help a smile, wincing when the gesture pulls at his split lip.

Bob slaps a hand on Andrew’s shoulder pads, then gets a grip on the back of his head, heedless of his sweaty hair.

“Crisse, you’re a fuckin’ beaut, kid. I’ve wanted to tell you that for years.”

Andrew can’t blame the smelling salts anymore.

__________

Jack clearly doesn’t see his father standing there with red-rimmed eyes, or Andrew in an equally unkempt state, and has no reason to think anything untoward has happened when he offers a handshake and pulls Andrew into a hug, bouncing his free fist off the back of Andrew’s pads. “I owe you a drink,” Jack says decisively when he pulls back, shooting a grin between his father and Andrew. “Can’t believe you did that.”

“More than a drink, I think,” the blonde guy Andrew saw behind the bench pipes up. Jack’s ‘twink’. Boyfriend. Whatever. “Dinner at least.”

“A pie,” Bob suggests tightly, keeping his voice even as he turns to quickly scrub his fist over his eyes. Andrew recognizes the statuesque woman who strides up beside Bob, and one quick look tells him she definitely knows who he is.

“Hello, Andrew,” Alicia greets softly, genuinely. “It’s very nice to meet you.”

“You, too.” he says, the tightness in his throat coming out as gruffness rather than emotion. “This is great, but I should go shower and, uh, it was nice meeting you all.”

Bob’s hand whips out and fists the sleeve of Andrew’s sweater, keeping him in place.

“You have plans tonight?”

Andrew debates lying, because he doesn’t know how to move forward from this point, but they’re all looking at him. Waiting. Expectant. There’s too much at stake, and yet somehow — A sharp whistle drags Andrew’s attention back to the locker room. Kent is peeking his head out, and god knows how long he’s been eavesdropping.

“Yo, Zimmermanns. Bittle.”

“Parson.” The blonde says curtly, earning a wry smirk from Kent.

“Flip, we got a presser if you feel like putting a bow on the evening,” Kent’s gaze drifts to Bob’s flushed face, and he adds, “Or, you can shower and slip out the loading bay while I cover for your aggro ass because this is not going to be fun. Your call.”

Andrew looks at the small family surrounding him, his family, and says, “I don’t want to explain.” Kent shrugs and ducks back inside while Bob’s brow furrows in confusion. “I can do dinner, but I don’t want to,” Andrew holds his hands out in front of him, trying to gesture what he means, and Bob snaps his fingers in understanding.

“Ah, ha, I got you, kid.”

“Neat. I’m gonna go shower.”

“We will be here when you’re ready,” Alicia offers. “Take your time.”

“Oh, I will,” Andrew replies before he can stop himself, cringing the second his back is turned because what the fuck could he be any more awkward?

Time will tell.

_____________

.

[bluejayblueskies]

53 + Jon for kiss prompts <3

kiss prompt list!

53 - against a wall kiss

i went with jontim! cw for mentions of ghosts, hauntings, and demons, mentions of decay and rot, bats (the animal), and mentions of alcohol

.

Jon looks up from the small scrap of paper he’s holding, squints suspiciously at the building in front of them, and looks back down at the paper with a frown. “This can’t be right.”

 “Huh,” Tim says, peering over Jon's shoulder at the paper. It’s barely illuminated by the faint glow of the streetlamps, small pinpricks of light against the night sky. “This was supposed to be a haunting, right? Some lady kept seeing a shadowy figure out of the corner of her eye, and her lights kept burning out.”

 “Alleged haunting,” Jon says tersely. “You know as well as I do that the ‘ghost’ statements are usually absolute rubbish.”

 “Yeah, but this one’s got zest,” Tim says with a grin, swiping the paper from Jon’s hands and ignoring Jon’s noise of protest. “Usually it’s all oh, there’s a cold spot and I came home to find the telly on or whatever. But shadowy figures of darkness and deceit—”

 Tim gasps dramatically. “Jon, we could be dealing with a demon.”

 Jon fixes Tim with an unimpressed look. “It’s more likely that we’ve driven two hours outside of London just to waste our time staring at a house that looks like it hasn’t been lived in for thirty years.”

 “Yeah,” Tim says with a grimace, “the place could really use a paint job. And, uh. Some actual glass in the windows.”

 Jon sighs, pinches the bridge of his nose, and mutters something under his breath about don’t get paid enough to—

 Tim couldn’t agree more.

“Fine,” Jon says, sounding resigned. He rifles through his satchel for a few moments before retrieving a small black torch. He clicks it experimentally on and off a few times. “We might as well get this over with.”

 “As much as I love your enthusiasm,” Tim says, “the place is very clearly condemned, Jon. The chains across the door don’t exactly scream hey, come in, it’s completely safe!”

 Not to mention that, technically, they’d have to break and enter. But Tim had learned long ago that the only problem Jon had with that was the physical effort it took to lift himself through broken windows and over chain-link fences. He’d decided, the first time he’d seen Jon pull a lockpick set out of his pocket and pick a lock in less than a minute, that he did, in fact, have a bit of a predilection toward delinquency. Particularly when said delinquent dressed like a college professor and used words like ‘ostentatious’ and ‘salient.’

 The being a little bit in love with him bit had come later. But it wasn’t like Tim hadn’t seen it coming.

 “I don’t think there will be any demons,” Jon says flatly, and before Tim can explain that he was actually talking about things like asbestos and rotten floorboards, Jon’s crossing the street at a quick pace and approaching the house.

 “Christ,” Tim mutters under his breath, scooping his backpack up from the ground and swinging it over his shoulder as he jogs after Jon. “Forget safety, let’s- let’s just run right into an abandoned building. Great.”

 By the time Tim’s wriggled his way through one of the ground-floor windows, Jon’s already scanning the inside of the house with his torch, an expression of intense concentration on his face as he maps the walls, ceilings, and floor. “Forget thirty years,” Jon says under his breath. “It doesn’t look like anyone’s ever lived here.”

 Jon’s right; beneath all the rot and decay and dust, the house itself is threadbare and hollow, walls a dull white and floor still an unfinished wood. Somehow, that more than anything makes Tim’s stomach turn with unease. “Right, well. This has been fun, but I think we’ve established that the statement belongs solidly in the discredited section so maybe we should… go?”

 Jon makes a noncommittal noise. “Why? It’s just gotten interesting.”

 “Right,” Tim says under his breath, hating how fond he sounds. “If this house collapses on top of us and we die, I am never going to forgive you.”

 Jon scoffs. “Don’t be ridiculous. Nothing’s going to happen.”

 .

 “Nothing’s going to happen?” Tim demands, having just sprinted halfway down the street and into a small side alley with Jon’s hand firmly grasped in his, practically pulling him along.

 A bit breathlessly, Jon says, “Well, I- I was right. The house is still very much intact.”

 Tim affixes Jon with the strongest glare he can muster, his heart still threatening to jump straight out of his chest. “Jonathan.”

 Jon throws his hands up in the air, dragging Tim’s hand with them. “How was I supposed to know that there was something living in there?”

 “Because it was condemned, Jon! Of course there were things living there.”

 Jon lets out a noise that’s somewhere between a groan and a laugh.  “They were just bats, Tim. I would think that would be a significant improvement from demons.”

 “Hey, at least I get paid to deal with demons!” At Jon’s raised eyebrow, Tim amends, “Alleged demons. I can handle the monster-under-the-bed stories, but—”

 Tim shudders. “Bats. I hate bats.”

 Jon’s mouth curves into a smile, and this time the noise he makes falls squarely into the realm of a chuckle. “Yes, I noticed. I don’t think I’ve ever heard you make a noise quite like that.”

 “Hey, if you were getting assaulted by God’s most abhorrent creation on this Earth, you also would have screamed. I feel no shame.”

 Jon seems to realize that he’s still holding Tim’s hand at the same time Tim does. But instead of letting go, Jon squeezes Tim’s hand tighter and says, “I am sorry. I… may have gotten a bit carried away.”

 “Mm, a bit,” Tim agrees pleasantly. He squeezes Jon’s hand back reflexively, and Jon’s intake of breath is audible.

 Huh.

 Maybe it’s the adrenaline making him bold, or maybe Tim’s just gotten tired of waiting, but he finds it surprisingly easy to take a step closer, bracketing Jon between him and the brick wall of the alleyway, and say, “Jon, if I’m being completely honest: running away from a swarm of bats after breaking into a half-rotted building isn’t the worst way I pictured this evening going.”

 “Oh?” Jon says, voice pitched slightly higher.

 “I mean,” Tim says with a barely-concealed grin, “running from danger, hand in hand, catching our breath in a very narrow alley?” He shifts a bit closer to Jon, just to prove his point. “Could be worse.”

 Jon looks down at their still-joined hands, then back up at Tim with a small frown. “Are you…?” He cuts off with a small sound and a shake of his head. “Ah. Never mind.”

 God help him. Tim opts for bluntness, because if he’s going to show a few cards he may as well turn over his entire hand. “Jon, there is nowhere I’d rather be right now than holding your hand in a dingy alleyway.” He pauses, considering, then says, teasingly, “Well, almost nowhere. I hear the Canary Islands are nice this time of year.”

 Jon just stares at him for a long moment. Then, just as nerves start to creep up the back of Tim’s throat, Jon lets out a small, breathy laugh and says, “Well, until we get a statement about the Canary Islands, I suppose this will have to do.”

 Tim scoffs. “Have to do. You flatter me.”

 The smile Jon gives him warms him from the inside out. Carefully, Tim lifts his free hand and settles it on the bricks next to Jon’s head. Jon inhales sharply, and his eyes when they meet Tim’s are wide. Suddenly unsure, Tim says quietly, “Is… is this okay?”

 The noise Jon lets out is startlingly close to a whine, and he nods once before saying, in a small voice, “Are you going to kiss me or not?”

 Oh, Christ.

 Jon’s barely finished speaking when Tim leans in, tangles his fingers more firmly with Jon’s, and captures Jon’s lips with his. Jon lets out a contented sigh and relaxes back against the brick wall, and god, Tim’s never going to get that sound out of his mind. He presses closer and deepens the kiss, documenting every one of Jon’s little noises and sighs and storing them away for later, so he can relive this moment again and again and again.

 Tim’s not sure how long they stand there, Jon’s back against the wall and Tim’s hand splayed flat on the brick next to Jon’s head, before a bright flash of car headlights startles them apart. As the light fades, Jon lets out a sound suspiciously close to a giggle before pressing his free hand to his mouth to hide his smile. “Sorry,” he says, his voice muffled by his hand. “I just… all the times I imagined kissing you, I really didn’t have this in mind.”

 Tim’s brain, for a brief moment, bluescreens. “All the times?” he says in disbelief. “Jon, all the times?”

 Jon drops his hand, looking sheepish. “Yes, well. In my defense, I thought you weren’t interested.”

 “Not—” Tim cuts off with an exasperated noise. He reaches down and takes Jon’s hand in his, threading their fingers together and squeezing once. “Let it go on record that I have wanted to kiss you for a long time now and that I am very much interested.”

 “Yes,” Jon says, amused. “I know that now.”

 Tim groans. Under his breath, he mutters, “Not interested. Ridiculous.”

 Jon laughs softly before leaning forward and pressing another chaste kiss to Tim’s lips. “If it makes you feel any better, I’m glad that I was wrong.”

 “Jonathan Sims, admitting that he was wrong? I thought I’d never see the day.”

 Jon gives him a glare without any heat. “Yes, yes, all right.”

 I love you, Tim wants to say. But it’s entirely too early for that, and he’s certainly not going to give his heartfelt love confession in an alleyway that he’s starting to realize smells something awful. So instead, he pulls lightly on Jon’s hand and says, “Well, I’m definitely not working any more today. Fancy a pint?”

 “Only if you don’t ridicule my taste in beer.”

 “One time, Jon! That was one time.”

[trumpkinhotboy]

Hanging upside down

Pairing: Edmund Pevensie x Reader

Genre: A tiny bit angsty, a bit of comedy, and a bit fluffy

Warnings: A little mention of blood here and there, but nothing too intense!

Rating: g

Request: Open

A/n: First Edmund fic !! At first, this was supposed to be about mister Peter Pevensie, but then I got the divine inspiration to make it all about our dear Edmund. I had fun with this! I hope you'll like it. I recommend reading it while listening to a Narnia ambiance playlist with forest sounds or something like that! Also, THERE YOU GO @imjustdreamingig I POSTED IT

** gif is not mine !!

*** ALSO CAN WE TALK ABOUT THAT FACE??? SO HANDSOME OMGGGG

Sometimes, being part of the royal entourage, things just get so intense that you need some time apart, away from all the agitation and emotional banter. Being so included in it, you get deeply hurt and worried when nerve-racking and atrocious situations occur. Then comes in the terrible realization that there is not a thing you can do, that you are completely and utterly helpless. Even if you would like to listen to your sheer instinct, you cannot. There are protocols, political relations, and a whole country that depends on your every action. In those situations, you are stuck with these dark feelings undermining you slowly.

This time it was Edmund; involved again in a bloody affair with the Calormene. For a moment, you all got worried it would end up badly, but he had just gotten back, victorious. You were deeply attached to every member of the Pevensie family, especially the freckled adventurous young man, although that could never be revealed. Alas, with secrets to keep and worry eating your brains out you needed to be alone, take a breath or two and forget a little about the world you lived in.

Hanging upside down, hands and arms swinging down. Hair forming a curtain of various shades around your head. You went into the woods to clear your mind, soak in the freshness of the air. There is this little spot you found with an imposing willow oak and a little river right next to it; maybe you could absorb a bit of the serenity of the woods. Everything is calm and soothing, there is not a sound to be heard.

- “Hey!”

You scream, fall quite hard to the ground, and scene.

- “Aouch.”

Trapped in your hair, you sit down, a little dizzy from falling directly on the head. Rubbing your aching elbow that is going to be badly bruised without a doubt, you hear a bright laugh and see Edmund rolling in the grass.

- “Nobody taught you that it was not ideal to creep on someone while they are hanging upside down on a tree?” you grumble.

He is still trying to catch his breath when he answers you.

- “The… question… would be… why were you hanging upside down a tree without being mindful of your surroundings? Someone with bad intention could have crept up on you!” he tries to defend himself, but you can tell he thinks this is hilarious.

- “Come on, Ed.”

- “Alright, alright, I am sorry, but you must admit it was funny.” He answers while getting up.

- “Yeah, yeah, alright.”

You check your body to see any possible injury; your knees are a little scratched, but nothing too bad, your elbow still hurts, but other than that, you are all in one piece. You try to get up while Edmund is still brushing twigs and clumps of grass off his tunic. You slowly get on your feet, but the world is spinning incredibly fast; you grab the tree beside you for balance, hoping it will calm down the revolving of the world.

- “I cannot wait to tell the oth… Y/n?” he looks up, only to see you looking at the ground, eyes wide open.

- “I don’t feel so well...” You lift your gaze to meet his, seeing triples of him dancing around.

- “You are bleeding!”

- “Mh?”

He takes a step towards you, worries written on his traits. He touches the side of your face, and you cannot help but wince at the sharp pain it triggers in you. He lifts your head, turns it on the side, and examines you quickly before declaring you should get back to the castle and maybe get a stitch or two.

- “Will you be able to walk?”

- “It is just a scratch Ed, I am not deathly injured.” You scoff, taking a shaky step before the world starts spinning again. You reach your arms out, searching for anything that could balance you out, which ends up being his hand. “I just need a little support.”

- “Why, of course.” He smiles affectionately at you.

Together you walk slowly but surely to the grand castle. Luckily, you were not that far out in the woods, so the walk is not that long. From time to time, you feel a spin of dizziness. Especially when you try to look up too fast, but otherwise than that, you are fine.

- “Why were you there alone anyway?”

- “I needed some time to myself.”

You have grown up with him, he has learned to observe you and depict your physical language. Just by the tone of your voice, he knows something is wrong.

- “Something happened?” he asks you after a second of silence.

- “No, yes, I mean no! Nothing actually happened it is just….”

His eyes are piercing right through you; his stare attentively focused on your every move. You look back at him, and all at once, the stress and anxiety you felt while he was away are rushing back into your blood. You can feel your heart tighten in your chest; what if something had happened to him? The thought of losing him, you could not bear it, it physically caused you pain. What if he had been in danger and nobody could have saved him?

- “Y/n?” He interrupts your train of thought, bringing you back to reality.

- “Sorry.”

- “If you do not want to tell me it is okay, you don't have to.”

- “No, it is just that… I was so worried Ed. I hate when you go on your own, I hate when there is no way for us to reach or help you. I hate when you are gone off like that.”

You both stopped walking; you have taken two steps away from him. You cannot hold his gaze as all the terrible scenarios start playing again and again before your own.

- “I cannot help but think about all the things that could go wrong. About the actual panic and unbearable pain, I would feel if something were ever to happen to you. It drives me crazy.” You take a deep breath, trying to block the images assaulting your brain. "I needed to take a step back. This place is where I go when it all gets too much for me.”

A deep silence sets in; you are mad at yourself for telling him about it. Each word that leaves your mouth exposes your feelings a fraction more, and you cannot allow that. You do not want to annoy him with your worries. He is a king; he has many more things to worry about than you and your feelings. It is not like it would ever stop him from doing his royal duties, and you understood that. Your behavior is childish and immature. The more you think about it, shame invades each of your cells; you should have never told him about it.

- “Edmund I…” you spin on your heels to face an Edmund that is much closer than you thought. You do feel pretty dizzy from the sudden movement, but you almost forget about it as you are taken away by the emotion in his brown eyes. Almost. You trip a little, but he is quick to catch you and stabilize you.

- “I am sorry Y/n. I did not know you felt like that.” He looks down on your linked hands. “I must admit I would go crazy too if I knew you were in danger and there was nothing I could do to reach you.” He finally looks up at your surprised face. “Stop looking so surprised. I have feelings too, I am not always the rational and practical person everyone thinks I am.” He adds with a shy smirk. You are even more astonished but dare not to say a word.

He slowly lifts his hand towards your face, his whole attention centralized on your being. Holding your breath; you do not dare to move a millimeter. His hand stops in his track as his gaze slides to the long strike of blood going down your face.

- “We, we should get back to our quarters so that we can take care of you.”

You are frozen in place, not able to grasp what was just about to happen. What would have happened? What was that? You had never noticed such depth of emotions in his eyes, but at that moment, you could have sworn it was infinite.

- “Are you ready?” he slides one hand on your back while the other grasp your hand. You nod, feeling more confused than you have ever been.

Once you get inside and head for the royal quarters you suddenly think about the blood still dripping from your left eyebrow, feeling the warm liquid sliding down your throat. You already hear Susan's reprimands when she will see your ruined dress. You cannot help a smile as you think about the weird face she always makes when she is annoyed with something. Her brows furrows and she twists her mouth in an ungraceful rictus which never fails to make you and the other Pevensies laugh.

- “What are you smiling for?”

- “Susan’s face when she’ll see my ruined dress.” You smirk.

- “What do you mean?”

You lift your head to show him the multiples streaks of blood going down your neck and onto the collar and fabric of your dress.

- “Oh no, I did not think about wiping it up.”

- “No worries, as I said, it will be fun to see Su’s face.”

He lets out a chuckle before opening the door of the room. Inside Lucy is painting by the window while Susan is reading a book near her. The two sisters instantly get on their feet when they see the scenery of Edmund supporting you, blood dripping down your face.

- “What happened?”

- “Lucy, please get some towels and the healer’s pouch. Edmund bring her on the couch.”

- “It’s not that bad Su, it’s barely a scratch, I’m fine.” You try to explain.

- “I will be determining that.” She interrupts sternly.

You sigh, knowing you will not escape this as Lucy returns with the aid kit. She starts looking at you too with concern.

- “I think it will need a stitch or two.”

- “Oh, really, guys I do not…”

The older sister glances at you with an expression that did not need any explanations; you needed to shut it. She starts preparing the supply and is still turning your head from side to side when she finally notices the bloodstains on your dress and sighs.

- “Really Ed? You could not have wiped it off? Now her new dress is totally ruined.” That is when the weird rictus and furrowed brows made their apparition.

You take a look at Edmund who is also trying his best to hold in his laughter but fails miserably when she stands there staring at him, hands on her hips.

- “And you think that is funny? You too Y/n? Lu?” she turns around to look at you and her little sister barely containing your amusement. “Maybe I should not do your stitches and ask Mr.Tumnus to do them.”

You and the two other Pevensies grimace knowing damn well that he hates to do that kind of stuff. It makes him nervous and shaky, hence making the process even more painful for the already injured.

- “Oh, please, Susan.” You shake your head while rolling your eyes which was possibly the worst idea you have ever had. The whole room took a spin and brought back the dizziness.

They all come back to you, concerned that there might be more to this injury than what they initially thought.

- “I think she might have a concussion.” Says Edmund while reaching out to you again to offer you some support.

- “How exactly did you say this happened again?” asked Susan.

- “Well, actually, it is a pretty funny story.”

He is about to tell them about your slightly embarrassing fall when the arrival of his brother in the room interrupts him.

- “What happened ?!”

He walks to you with a confused expression. Edmund is still crouching before you, examining your face. You are not even able to answer Peter’s question as you are staring into his brother’s hypnotizing eyes. All this movement makes you even dizzier but let's be honest, even if you were about to puke, you would not miss the occasion to have Edmund’s warm hands on your face. You savor this moment as best as you can, but even though this feels incredibly good, you cannot ignore the feeling of your mind looping a little and your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

- “Guys, what happened?” asks Peter again.

- “She might have a concussion; I think she fell on her head, and Edmund if you, please, stop holding onto her face, I could finally stitch her up and stop this tragedy.”

- “This tragedy?”

- “The dress Pete..” murmurs Lucy.

The older Pevensie looks at your dress, at his sister, then again at you with a look of disbelief. You lightly shrug your shoulder; he's about to say something but gives up understanding that when it comes to Susan, it is a true tragedy.

All the while, Edmund finally let go of you, his cheek a subtle shade of pink. You keep looking at him with confusion in your eyes. What is going on with this boy?

It takes a minute or two for Susan to stitch you up since the wound is small. The eyebrow arch being a place where there is a lot of blood circulation, it is typical you bled a lot. As for the concussion, there is nothing to do but wait and rest, which you absolutely despise, since everyone looks at you like a minotaur had impaled you.

You now lay on the pillowy sofa in a brand-new outfit; Susan forced you out of the dress to try to wash the blood off. Lucy went back to painting, Peter watching over her, and Edmund is sitting on the end of your couch with a book in hand. As for Susan, she is about to leave the room when she suddenly turns back.

- “You never told us what happened.”

You grin and look at Edmund who's already looking at you with a beaming smile on his face.

- “Come on, tell em.”

He does with much excitement, emphasizing the comedy of your fall, but he looks so proud, and everyone is laughing, even Susan, so you do not mind and let him have his moment.

- “Alright, alright funny guy. You told your story, now leave me alone.”

You nudge him with your foot, acting falsely angry. He swiftly grabs it, adjusting it so that both of your feet lay on his lap. He keeps a smile while going back to reading his book drawing small circles on your ankles. A swarm of butterflies is assaulting your stomach, and once again, the world starts spinning; although this time it is for a totally different reason.

...

A/n: I truly hope you liked this!!💛 Once again, just a word to tell you my requests are open. Feel free to send me anything Narnia related, I would love to make your idea come to life:))

[heresathreebee]

Wearing THAT

[Dewey Finn X Female Reader]

Summary: Reader teases Dewey in a Poison Ivy costume. You have a really hard time saying exactly what you want... Masterlist Next

Word count: 3.1k words (no beta) 

Warning(s): 17+ | teasing, lots of teasing and boners, lap sitting, near nudity, touching

AN: only Thots here, thots about Dewey Finn also is Ned British? He's British in my head

This was some sort of test. It had to be. God was testing him through you and you were not playing fair. It’s a costume party not a competition, you pompous little sycophant. And yet he can’t help but tug at the collar of his shirt. It’s not even anywhere near his throat but why else would he feel so constricted? It’s certainly not because of you…

You walked into his shared apartment wearing that and you had no idea the effect it had on him. 

Dewey watches you sling an arm around Ned and kiss Patty’s cheek in greeting. “Hi guys! Thanks for inviting me, I’ve been dying to put this on.” 

“Oh you look lovely,” Patty coos. She plucks at one of the plastic leaves on your corset. “Did you make this?! It’s so intricate.” 

You bark out a laugh. “Oh hell no! I have this cousin, right? And him and his fiancé own this shop where they make costumes for movies and theatre and if you pay ‘em right, ‘personal use.’ And they don’t ask questions what ain’t their business either.” 

“Well, I’m sold.” Ned raises his beer for a toast and Patty clinks it with her bottle of mysterious green juice. “Prost! What’s the name of the shop? Wanna see if they’re online– you know, for... support.” 

“Ned,” Patty swatted his empty hand (no need to be shy, we already know they’re freaky). 

You pat your friends on their backs and take a step towards the kitchen. “Gonna get myself a beer.” 

“Oh honey you don’t have to do that. Dewey!” The man in question nearly covered himself in his own drink when he heard his name. “Be a good host and get this lady her beer!” 

“Yes captain,” Dewey salutes and Patty can do nothing but glare in her Star Trek yellow shirt costume. Original series, of course, nothing but the best for Patricia Di Marco. 

Dewey takes a hold of the moment he has his back to you to take deep, calming breaths. He will not let this be the end of him. Your friendship means so much more to him than that and a little fancy green corset was not going to make him fuck things up with you. 

He’s ready for you when he hands you your beer. Your one arm hug is appreciated because he’s sporting a bit of wood and he’d hate to find out your corset isn’t thick enough to hide it– or god forbid you feel him on your thigh. And god, your thighs… those sheer green nylon tights were doing unspeakable things to him. Maybe if he kept you close and kept your legs out of his peripherals he could make it through the night without embarrassing himself. 

Or maybe not. 

“Are yoooouuu a college student?,” you ask and point at his inconspicuous clothes. 

“Actually– ” he opens the buttons of his shirt to reveal another shirt with a superman logo on it and buttons it back up clumsily as you laugh. “Ssshhh! Don’t tell anybody. Protect my secret.” 

“Of course,” you giggle. God you feel good hanging off him– usually he loves how physical you are but he has to figure out a way to keep his distance without offending you and quickly. “You like mine?” 

The way you pick up a thick swirling red lock and direct his attention to the very thing he’s trying not to look at is killing him. Of course you look even better up close. The leaves of your corset give the thing depth and texture, your gloves are fingerless and go over your elbows, and your heels are high, like make- him- feel- his- below- average- height high. 

“I like these.” Dewey plucks at the ring of leaves at the top of your gloves. It’s a way to keep his mind off your everything else. “Did you dye your hair?” 

“It’s a wig.” You tug on the top and then the bottom, wincing a little. “Sew in, so don’t go snatch it.” 

“I would never!” 

“Poison Ivy, eh? Think that’s one of Dewey’s favorites,” Ned blabs. 

Dewey sends him a death glare so powerful Ned chokes on his beer but you’re looking at your Spock-dressed friend so you can’t see it. 

“Oh, really?” You return your gaze to Dewey and say, “well you must be loving this, then.” 

Dewey swallows. No words come to him and there is nothing to stop the awkward silence that follows. You appear unbothered by it, maintaining eye contact as you smile almost knowingly… 

“We should play twister,” he says with the most unsure voice ever. 

“We don’t even have twister,” Patty mumbled. “Come on, there are like twenty other games setup, let’s play!” 

~

Dewey gives it a minute and when he’s free from you, he catches Ned by his pointy green ear and drags him into the hall. “Hey? What the fuck are you doing?” 

“Whah– what are you talking about?” Ned slaps at the hand fisted in his shirt but Dewey doesn’t budge. 

“You can’t just go telling people I’m into them, dude! Do you know how close you came to giving me away?!”

Ned scoffed. “Her? I hardly think she’s ignorant to your feelings, you’re not like that Steven from Austin fellow.” 

“– Are you talking about stone cold Steve Austin?"Dewey buries his face in his hands- "It’s his last name, not his birthplace–” 

“And besides…” Ned peeks around the corner to see you in the middle of some sort of posing game. Everybody's trying to take the form of some sort of vehicle, and you've got Chloe in a headlock and Vance's leg in the other hand. Ned never got to finish his thought because someone dropped a huge bowl of popcorn and that too became a game of ‘how many can you eat off the floor before Patty cleans it up.’ Ned’s got to help and he’s got to help now. 

Dewey finds himself on the couch with his fifth beer of the evening. Vance, Jeremiah, and Chloe are talking baseball stats when suddenly Dewey’s vision is filled with green and red just before you sit down. Right between his legs. He unconsciously scoots up to make room for you and before he catches on to your game, you nestle into his space by the arm of the couch and sling your legs across his like you belong there. 

Ok, something is definitely up with you. 

Would he describe you as cuddly? A little. Perhaps a more appropriate word would be… hands on. Long before he started wanting more than friendship with you, you two were always just touching. Your presence and your love language was physical. Dewey never felt like you were invading his personal space or overstepping his boundaries because he simply had none with you and the feeling was mutual. But this was something else. Something that wasn’t there before. 

Was it him? Was he fucking up his perfectly in sync companionship with you because he couldn’t keep his dick in his pants or (his heart for that matter)? He wasn’t sure if he wanted to drag you closer or push you flat on your ass right now. 

You were listening to Chloe chew Vance out for hating Gritty the mascot when you felt Dewey plant a hand on your forehead. “Hey, are you feeling ok?” 

You gently shake him off and raise a single eyebrow. He seems serious, his voice gone all soft and making you feel gooey inside. 

“You just seem… I dunno,” he fumbles, “do you want me to take you home after this?”

Hellooooo opening! “Actually, can I stay here tonight?” 

“Yeah, of course.” Fuck, who said that? Dewey? Ah, shit… 

 “Thanks,” oh oh you should not be rubbing his thigh right now… “I think I’ll go change here in a minute.”

Oh please do, please please puh-leeaaase–  

~

After a brilliant movie drinking game (which Dewey tapped out of), the crowd began to disband. 24 became 20, then 18, then 12. You went out to your car to grab your overnight stuff and Dewey was hoping for a brief reprieve from the assault of your visage. He just needed a few more people to leave so he can sequester himself and rub one out– you know, get his head straight. Ever since you left his lap he’s been rock hard, there’s not enough blood flowing to his brain. The guest count is down to 3– 2 with you in your car, and he can’t wait anymore. 

Dewey slipped into the only bathroom in the house and prayed to god nobody noticed him. He barely got his hand wrapped around his shaft when Patty’s fist banged on the door demanding he help clean up. Sulking and agitated, Dewey managed to calm down while cleaning up red solo cups, glass beer bottles, cans, and small pocket sized objects that would need to be returned to the guests after their hangovers subsided (no keys, thankfully, everybody’s got a DD). His “predicament’ is nearly forgotten when you finally return with a bundle of clothes, disappear into the bathroom and reemerge in loose sleepwear with your makeup wiped clean and uh… braless. 

You catch him looking. Dewey– surprisingly sober after he gave up drinking half way through his sixth beer– does nothing short of raise a slightly irritated eyebrow at you. “Cold in here, huh?” 

“Shut up. You know how uncomfortable it is to sleep in a bra?” 

You help him collect a couple bottles that rolled under the couch and walk with him down to Ned’s car. Patty would sort the recyclables from the trash in the morning (late morning, she did a couple rounds of tequila shots thanks to you). It’s almost like the party never happened; you’re shooting the shit again and everything is right in the world. He’s got no ulterior reaction to putting a hand on your hip– that’s just a normal thing in your perfectly platonic relationship. God, he really must have been imagining things, he was beginning to think you were actually trying to flirt with him! 

Ned’s bent over the kitchen sink with Patty and holding her hair back. He looks up as you enter the apartment and shakes his head. You and Dewey make yourself scarce by slipping into the shared bathroom to hide. You try to giggle quietly as Dewey surveys the skincare products you covered the counter with. He points to your head and asks, “you wearing that to bed?” 

“It’s sewed in, I’m not taking this off for three weeks at least,” you answer. “Get my money’s worth. I can work it like my natural hair.” 

Dewey nods. You rub your arm nervously and look for something to say, something to circle back to the whole point of showing up looking like a sexed up goddess. What do guys like? Girls wearing their clothes, right? But you need to phrase it perfectly… 

“Dewey?” He looks up from the scrubby lip balm in his hands. “I’m not quite ready to go to sleep yet and it… it is a little chilly in your place. Can I wear your jacket?” 

Just to bring your meaning home, you tug on his sleeve– the very jacket on his back. You don’t want just any jacket, you want that one, already warm and scented by him. You don’t miss the way his eyes glance past you like he was reluctant to comply. And yet… 

“Yeah, here.” He slips out of it with ease and drapes it over your shoulders. You miss the sigh of relief he makes when you pull the zipper closed and obscure your pebbling nipples. “Think I’m gonna go help Ned put Patty to bed.” 

Ned was a scrawny little thing and couldn’t carry her by himself, and she needed to be carried. Competitive by nature, it’s easy to talk her into virtually anything, especially if it feels like girl time. You need Patty in a deep sleep for your plans tonight (sorry not sorry). Dewey’s very sexy as he bears most of Patty’s weight. She’s clinging to Ned, arms around his neck and babbling incoherently while Dewey’s got an arm around her waist and legs, keeping Ned on his feet. You skirt ahead of them and open the bedroom door, help pull her shoes off, her captain insignia, her earrings, you even wipe the spit from her lips and the eyeliner smeared on her cheek. 

“You’re my favorite ever,” she whimpers, “I love you so much, you’re like my best friend ever…” 

You shush her gently. “You say that about everybody when you’re drunk, baby. I promise I’ll make you a fat breakfast in the morning but you gotta go to sleep now, OK?” 

Patty nods. She snuggles into her pillow just as Ned is taking up position as the big spoon when she looks back up at you and asks, “can we go for a run together?” 

You blink evenly. “Yes.” You already regret it as she smiles big and wide. It would be just your luck this is the one thing she doesn't forget in the morning.

Finally it's just you and Dewey in the hallway. It feels like you're standing between two choices: his open bedroom door and the living room. But it seems like only you can feel the weight of it. 

"Are you sure you want to stay over?," Dewey asks, "you can use my bed." 

You perk up out of your heavy mood. "Really?" 

"Yeah, I'll take the couch tonight." 

He can't possibly miss the way you instantly deflate but he's still not putting the pieces of the puzzle together. "Dewey. I'm not going to kick you out of your own room." 

He shrugs. "Suit yourself. I'll grab a few blankets." 

There's a storage closet in the main building with this one extra soft blanket that Dewey knows you'll love. You on the other hand have got no more patience left. Once the man leaves, you stomp your foot and decide to try one final act.

Dewey returns to the apartment to find an empty, quiet living room. Ned and Patty are in bed, but where are you? He wanders past the bathroom door because it's dark inside and checks his room. There you are reclining on his bed. He could have sworn you were wearing pants before but your legs are bare and his jacket hugs the tops of your thighs. He also could have sworn you were wearing a shirt. He finds both items folded neatly beside you with your underwear right on top. 

Oh…

This cannot be happening right now. He just survived tonight by the skin of his teeth and now you were doing this to him. He’s going to pull his hair out, going to scream, it’s so frustrating because he can’t just ask you what you want– you’ll turn the question back on him and he’ll fuck it up. He lets the blanket fall from his grip and with a heavy sigh he whispers in a weak voice, “straight answers only. What are you doing to me? Why you doin’ this?” 

You cock your head and answer leisurely, your eye drifting across the items in his room. “You know that’s not how I roll, but if you want me to address the elephant in the room: I'm naked in your bed right now." 

Against his better judgement, Dewey moves closer. "I can see that." 

One step closer and your eyes find him again. Like an invitation you lean back more, even uncross your legs but go no further. Dewey swallows his tongue and waits for you to elaborate and every second is agonizingly slow. 

"You think you can just walk around here with your pretty face and cocky little attitude like it’s nothing,” you said accusingly. 

Dewey glared at you. “That’s the pot calling the kettle black.” 

“Well we're in agreement then,” you’re almost sneering at him, but he knows it’s because you’re really frustrated with yourself, “I look and I touch and I feel but I don’t know, you know?” 

“Not a clue,” he sighs and sits himself beside you. He’s done trying to keep his distance. “Let’s go back to you being naked in my bed.” 

“Do you like it?” 

“Do I like it?,” he repeats incredulously. Dewey leans back on his elbow to look you over from top to bottom. You look damn good in nothing but his jacket. You’ve got the long ends of your red hair in braids that sweep down to your navel. The zipper rests tantalizingly right below your ribcage. Dewey dares to reach out a mollifying hand and give a tiny stroke to that silver keeper. He cannot bring himself to speak above a whisper as he nods, “yeah, I… I like it.” 

The tension leaves your shoulders and you wear a small grin. “It’s not too late to take it back. Say no, and I’ll put my clothes back on and sleep on the couch like none of this ever happened. This,” you point between the two of you, “doesn’t change unless we want it to.” 

… this was real. In answer, Dewey’s chin wrinkles and he watches his finger travel upwards, drawing a light line up the expanse of your chest between your breasts to feel you shiver at his touch. Thing is he doesn’t want to say no, but wouldn’t it be better? Safer? He asks the question he’s been dying to know all night. “What do you want from me?” 

“Whatever I can get,” you answer truthfully. “Whatever you’ll allow. Don’t trouble yourself with labels and things ‘cause what we have has always been so much more than that.” 

Dewey feels a weight lift off of his chest. His hand works around your waist and drags you closer, halfway under him and he rests his perspiring forehead on your breastbone. Whatever happens next happens, for better or for worse. 

You’re not troubled when Dewey moves the jacket to expose one of your breasts, however you are taken aback when he bites you. You barely manage to stifle your yelp when you feel him growl against your flesh and the sound vibrates straight to your core. Dewey drags his head up and stares you dead in the eye as he kneads your savaged breast. 

“All night,” he growls, “all fucking night for this? We could have done this ages ago. The salon, the drive in, Chloe’s cat’s birthday– grocery shopping last week. But no, instead you pick a party full of people and you’ve had me riled up for hours.” 

Dewey pinches your hardened peak and you keen. “‘m sorry…” 

“No you’re not, but don’t worry: you will be.”

AN: Check Out Part 2 @hoodoo12 @go-commander-kim @escape-your-grape @softbeej @imma-fucking-nerd @werwulfy

[a-froger-epic]

tw: mention of eating disorders

hey i read something about freddie having an eating disrorder, and I hate asking this but could you please explain if you know anything about it. my poor baby :(

Hey anon!

I’m sorry it took me a while to reply. This is a sensitive topic for many, so I wanted to take my time and give you the nuanced reply it deserves.

I’ve talked about this a little before, but I might as well take the opportunity now to speak about it at length. This is only my personal opinion based on everything I’ve read about Freddie and many different takes I’ve seen others put forward.

So, did Freddie have an eating disorder?

The shortest answer to that, as far as I’m concerned, is... maybe?

Before I carry on, I’d like to say that I think everyone is free to speculate about this and make up their own mind, as well as creatively explore this in their writing, and I don’t consider my opinion to be any more correct than anyone else’s.

Why do people think Freddie might have had an ED?

There are a few things about Freddie and food which could be interpreted as ED behaviours. First off, here is what Phoebe has to say about Freddie and his eating habits:

His taste in food changed over the years I was with Freddie. When I started the group of us would make monthly visits to the restaurant Shezan, an Indian eatery, in Knightsbridge. Freddie never had a menu as they always provided his favourite selection of foods without asking. As his illness progressed, his taste buds could not take the assault of spicy foods and he tended to more bland foods. He also turned his eating habits around. He used to have a lighter meal at lunch and then have a big meal in the evening, usually at a restaurant with a big group of friends. Towards the end he would eat more at lunch and a smaller meal in the evenings.

Nothing much out of the ordinary here, as far as I can see. Freddie definitely had favourite foods he enjoyed, but then, a common misconception is that people with EDs don’t like/enjoy food, and that isn’t true. Phoebe also says this:

As I have said before, Freddie was a very light eater. Some of us live to eat, but Freddie was one of those people who ate to live. He was the master of moving food around the plate to give the appearance of having eaten a good amount. He did enjoy good food, but really didn’t need to consume very much. He loved entertaining guests at meals in the dining room at Garden Lodge and was able to disguise his non-eating by making sure everyone else was ok during the meal. Don’t get me wrong, Freddie always ate enough to keep him going, but I can’t remember one time when he leant back in the chair saying ‘I’m stuffed!’

Now here we have a lot of things to unpack. There are three things in here - moving food around the plate to give the appearance of having eaten more, disguising his non-eating and never eating enough to be full - which are definitely known ED behaviours.

However, people who just do not care about food all that much and are light eaters do also exist. In fact, I’m one of them myself. I did struggle with Disordered Eating in my teens and my early 20s, but I have a healthy relationship with food now and I never like to eat until I’m stuffed because it’s not a nice feeling, physically, to overeat. I’m also someone who easily and genuinely forgets to eat when I’m in a creative haze. Just as an example.

Also, seeing as Freddie most likely was made to finish meals all throughout his boarding school times, like many children in lunch halls, which is usually not a great experience for children who are picky or light eaters, the “moving food around the plate to make it seem he’s eaten” could well be an old habit stemming from there.

Either way, Phoebe doesn’t seem too concerned about Freddie’s eating, and even though people with EDs are very good at hiding them, Phoebe did know him for a long time and very, very well. Phoebe could also be withholding information that he considers too private. All of that is possible, all of that is speculation.

There are other things which point to the fact that Freddie was definitely preoccupied with his weight/appearance. In this interview in 1974, he says:

“Oh really,” he exclaims in disgust, “this paper has no flair - I mean to print this picture three times in succession … and just look at my arms!” He was horrified, “look at how fat they appear, now my arms aren’t like that at all - what do you think?” He rolls up his sleeves for me to inspect and I’d like to state here and now that the poor dear’s arms are quite, quite slender!

The photo Freddie is most likely talking about, is this one:

It’s not a very fortunate angle, admittedly. So I think it’s possible to see where he was coming from, but even so, he was worried about his arms looking fat at a time when he looked like this:

Yes, it is important to keep in mind that people were generally thinner in the 70s than we are used to now. (Brian, for example, was also incredibly thin.) But in this picture it really is evident that Freddie was very, very thin at this point.

Other things which are often brought into the discussion around Freddie’s eating habits is the account of him throwing a fit when Brian ate one of his biscuits once, choosing to walk after a meal at a restaurant while his driver drove alongside him and his friends, eating cereal on the floor in his dressing room, this picture where he clearly prefers salad to chicken wings (unlike Roger “What Even Are Vegetables” Taylor):

All of the above, to me, are things which can be heavily read into but ultimately don’t prove very much.

And there is this bit from Mercury & Me:

The Sun did later print a photograph of Freddie taken while he was performing at the festival, which he didn't appreciate. It showed off "Flabulous Freddie" with a slight paunch, wickedly describing it as his "midriff bulge". When he saw the picture he looked at me and shook his head in despair. 'It's typical,' he said. 'If I'm slim the papers say I'm too thin and if I put on a little bit of a belly they say I'm too fat. It's a no-win situation.'

Now, that doesn’t give off the impression to me that Freddie was particularly distraught about that article, at that point in his life. But it certainly appears to have bothered him to some degree.

So what’s the conclusion?

To me, personally, it seems quite likely that Freddie did suffer from Disordered Eating in the early to mid 70s. That’s really not uncommon, sadly, although it usually afflicts young women more than young men. But he was in the spotlight and had to care about his appearance. He was clearly very preoccupied with it, not only when it came to his body, but his looks in general - there is plenty of evidence regarding that. He was very selective about which photographs of himself he did and didn’t like. However, I find it impossible to say just how much this preoccupation affected him exactly. 1974 especially was also a very taxing year for Queen. Their management was shit, they struggled with money, they almost lost Brian, their touring schedules were brutal, the press was bashing them, Freddie was struggling with his sexual identity. There were a lot of immense stress factors, and he could have very well been someone who responded to stress by not eating - just like others respond to stress by eating too much. And Disordered Eating is not classed as an eating disorder. It is, if you will, the beginning of one.

Or, he absolutely could have developed or already had an actual ED which he was hiding fairly well, and it could have affected him a lot, but nobody would have ever known because he would have been unlikely to ever speak to anybody about it.

Both is possible. I simply don’t think that there is enough information to do more than speculate on the matter, beyond: He had a preoccupation with his looks and minded what and how much he ate throughout his life.

However, in the second half of the 70s as well as the 80s, he was still thin but had started working out and looked more “athletic” thin rather than gaunt. I think it’s entirely possible that whatever issues Freddie had with food were not a constant thing but something that may have been worse and better at times, depending on his overall mental well-being and his levels of confidence.

Or, it could have been something that he always struggled with.

Again, as far as I am concerned, both is possible and I don’t feel I can say for certain. And so, my take leans towards Disordered Eating when younger and less preoccupation with it later on. That’s the impression I get.

But I wrote all this out so that others can make up their own minds, and rather than share my exact opinion, I encourage you to do just that.

[astaroth1357]

Locker Room Talk- A Beelzebub Fanfic (BeelxGN MC)

(I’m not much of a whole-ass fic writer, so I don’t think this will be a regular occurrence, but I just had a scenario play out too perfectly not to give it an upgrade. I would hope this goes without saying, but harassment is not okay, I do not condone it, and if you are experiencing it you should look into what legal options you have available to report it. Please don’t try the Beel method. You’ll go to jail.)

Warnings: Sexual harassment, unwanted innuendo, implied possibility of sexual assault, vulgarity

"Locker Room Talk” isn't really Beel's thing. In all honesty, he’s never understood the appeal since saying gross stuff where only your friends can hear doesn’t make what you’re saying any better. Because he’s been playing sports for nearly all the time he's been in the Devildom, he’s been around his fair share of these kinds of conversations. Most of the time he just keeps to himself and tries to tune out whatever the other guys have to say. It gives him a bit of a reputation as the “innocent” one sure, but he just prefers not to play along with their pervy antics. If they wanted that, they could talk to Asmo for all he cared.

That’s not to say he didn’t like his teammates or anything. Most of them were pretty good people on the court and got their acts together off of it. And Beel really loved playing sports. He needed the physical outlet as a distraction from his hunger… If he had to put up with a little vulgarity from time to time, it seemed like a fair enough trade… Or. At least it was at first.

When MC came to the Devildom, they turned his whole world upside-down. Things between his brother had always been tense before and even Belphie had grown more distant with him after what happened to Lilith, but it felt like in only a couple of short months they were able to soothe everything over. His family has never been happier and neither has he… Plus, it helped that they were a good, and eager, cook.

His teammates sniffed out his crush for the little human fairly quickly. To be fair, he wasn’t exactly hiding it very well. The first time they ever came by one of their practices, a pouch of homemade cookies in hand, he could have kissed them on the spot. No one, not even Belphie, makes the time to go check on him during practice like that... He must have made his happiness pretty obvious because the human started making it a regular habit. At least two, sometimes three, times a week they would drop in with some kind of food for him. Store-bought, homemade, a small snack, or packed meal, it honestly didn’t matter to him. Anything that came from their hands felt three times more filling than it should have. 

He’s a little embarrassed to admit that after a few weeks the anticipation would start to show in his performance… If they were on their way he could usually smell whatever they had packed heading his direction and he’d play extra aggressively just to get to a break faster. He'd mow everybody else over just to have an excuse to go meet them at the gate. He’s been more than a little reckless before and thinking back on it can make him wince, but he usually forgets all about those little mishaps as soon as he’s met by their smiling face. 

“Hey, Beel! How is practice going?” They’d ask him. And no matter how he answers, all he’d think would be, “Never as good as right now…”

It was around the time that his teammates put it together that the teasing started. It was innocent enough at first. They’d pick on him for having a little crush on the exchange student but it was always lighthearted. Nothing worse than maybe the occasional,

“Oi Beel? Did you get yourself a housewife/husband? Good for you.” or “They’ll cook for you?? What a steal!” Nothing that bad. At least, nowhere near as bad as it would get.

As the weeks passed it seemed like his teammates were expecting something out of him... Like, was he supposed to make a move on them? Though Beel really did want to be with the MC, there were a lot of complications… His brothers being a big one. Most have made no secret that they’re also pretty fond of them too, Mammon especially, and it felt wrong to make another rift in the family right after it took so long to patch the first one… Of course, his teammates didn’t know that. And they didn’t care. All they wanted to do was amp up the pressure…

“Hey, Beel, did you see what your honey was wearing today? I think they’re sending signals. You should probably jump on that, you know?” When it first started, he couldn’t actually believe what he was hearing. Sure, their little jokes sounded like innuendo but they kept things just veiled enough that he could have been reading into it. He’d get uncomfortable, but brush it off easy enough. However, it only ever got worse from there.

“Yo Beel, you boning that human yet? What? No?? What the hell are you waiting for? We see you like them so just do it!” It would grate on his nerves...

“Beel, how’s your sweetheart been doing? Still not fucking, right? Bet they’re getting lonely…” He’d tell them to stop. At first politely, then more forcefully.

“Look, man, if you don’t start taking charge then they’re going to get antsy. Plenty of other guys are here looking to get their dicks wet… Just look at your brothers, am I right?” After a while, he started shouting. But his aggravation only seemed to fuel the fire.

“I bet someone will have them bent over and forgetting all about you by the end of the week.” Eventually, he went to the coach but he didn’t care. “It’s just ‘Locker Room Talk.’ Grow up,” is all he got in response. It didn’t feel like it was just that anymore, but he started to doubt himself anyway... Was he overreacting? Every bone in his body wanted to go on a rampage whenever they started to pester him but wasn’t it all just words? He could endure words, couldn’t he? Besides, RAD has a strict no-violence on school grounds policy on its athletes. Even if he did get a good slug in, then he’d been thrown out of future games for the rest of the season.

Their words were just words. Gross, awful words, but words nonetheless. Sure. Whatever. He could endure that… but only that.

On the day he nearly lost it completely, it was right after their last practice before a big game the next night. The whole team was amped to go, but Beel was trying to keep to himself. Get in, get out, and go back to the House where MC was probably waiting. He’s long since stopped sticking around for socializing with the others. He had just finished changing when one of his teammates cornered him by his locker, the slimiest grin already plastered on his face.

“Look, Beel… We’re going to do you a favor, alright? Since you’re taking so long with this… The guys and I have decided to invite your little human to an “after-game party” tomorrow. To celebrate our victory and all that. Bet they’re dying for some action since you’re not giving any. You’re free to come if you want. Though… they might not be paying much attention to you.” Beel could feel his eye twitch as he watched the scumbag’s snickering face. That face. That fucking face. He'd never seen or heard anything so revolting in his life and-

For a few seconds, all he could see was red.

When he came back to his senses, he already had the sleazebag pinned against the lockers by the windpipe, fingers gripping his neck so tightly that his nails drew blood. At some point, he must have slipped into his demon form because the vibrations of his wings behind him made a sound not unlike a warning growl. His expression must have been ferocious because in the guy's eyes he saw nothing but pure terror. He’d never felt this much rage and hatred together before. Surely, at this moment, he ought to look more like Satan or Lucifer on a rampage than he does himself.

“If you say one more thing about that human, I will kill you. Touch them once and I will eat you. Are we clear?" His hand clenches further, making him receive a gargled cough in response. At this point, he could have probably flicked his wrist and snapped his neck in two. "Then pass it on." He tossed the man back into the metal lockers and watched him sink to the floor, clawing at his own throat and gasping for air. Oh yeah, his sporting days for this semester are over. But if it keeps him away from this trash? He’ll take it.

Of course, he made sure that he doesn’t stick around much longer. He left the scumbag to sort himself out, grabbing his gym bag quickly. He barely remembered to hide his demon form again before walking out of there, his nerves are practically shot already. Thankfully, though, he didn’t make it three steps out the door before a familiar face stopped him in his tracks. MC, who must have been waiting patiently for him this entire time, is leaned next to the bleachers with a backpack in one hand and a deli sandwich in the other. The perfect smile they got when they saw him signaling their blissful ignorance of all that just went down before.

“Hey Beel! How was pr-Oomf!” His body colliding with theirs cuts off their question. Beel’s gym bag lies already forgotten in the dirt, ditched so his arms could embrace them fully. It’s just a hug, a tight hug, but there’s a certain desperation to it. Though he knew it was ridiculous, a part of him was terrified that his teammates may just come up and try to snatch them if he let go…. After some time to process, he felt their head settle against his chest. He worried that they can hear his raging heartbeat... Would they pick up on how pissed he was just a moment ago?

“Ah… Not that great then, huh…?” His arms tense, pressing them closer against the fabric of his shirt. Should he tell them what he's been putting up with…? Does he even have the stomach for it? Letting out a sigh through his nose, he simply grunted out, “No…” 

“Well, what’s wrong then?” So many things… He just wanted to pick them up and fly them away from all this crap. He wanted to rip the tongues out from anyone who's said a bad word about them. He wanted to keep holding them in his arms, shielding them from anything and everything that could possibly take that perfect smile away… But they probably don’t know that, do they?

“Beel? Are you okay...?” He let a slow sigh draw out from his nose, resting his head atop theirs. All too soon, he'd have to let them go. But, for the moment, he could just hold them and wish this feeling would never end...

“Only if you are…”

[maemi324]

Mafia

Hey there friends! It’s been a hot minute since I’ve actually posted something. 

Let me just say, Happy Holidays! I hope you are having a wonderful and safe holiday. 

This fic was inspired and written for @butterscotchbaku​ and @in-this-house-we-stan-izuku​ based on some requests I had written in, as well as just ideas passed back and forth. 

I hope you two are having a wonderful day and may that continue into the new year! Thank you for all you’ve written and done!

Pairing: Izuku/Fem.Reader

Warnings: mentioned beatings, mentioned assault but nothing described in detail. all very vague. uhh violence, or hinted at violence. Edited only by me, so i may have missed something.

 I think that’s it. 

I hope you two enjoy this! 

Cigarette smoke hung heavily in the room, walls filled with generic knickknacks and warm colored walls gave the meeting a false sense of pleasantness. To any unsuspecting person, this was any other meeting room, one long table with rounded edges and somewhat padded chairs, the head of the table having the one most plush. 

Hell, even the people occupying them would have anyone turning up their nose in disinterest. Nothing but business men and women in dark, smart looking suits.

But you knew better. Sitting at the head was the infamous Izuku Midoriya, known under the name of Deku, direct descendent of the greatest Mafia leader Japan had ever seen; All Might. 

And here you sat, comfortably in Izuku’s lap, your temple pressed against his neck as you listened to his voice rumble on towards the other members. You were hardly paying attention to what was being said as you glanced around the room to the others.

Katsuki Bakugou- Dynamite, or TNT if you were feeling particularly cheeky. He was head of interrogation, finding out who knew what and definitely had too many ways of making people talk, and only one sure fire way of keeping them quiet. 

Todoroki Shouto- Bakugou’s counter in interrogation. He was mainly there to keep Bakugou from killing every target. He could control his temper, sure, but Todoroki added a sense of cold unease to their targets. He was effective against the folks who didn’t rise to Bakugou’s jabs and threats. He tapped the ashes of his cigarette into the small dish provided.

Kirishima Eijirou- Red Riot-another strong man and a third in the interrogation squad. He kept Bakugou from grousing the entire time, as well as leveling the two tempers in the group. Though he was a strong man, he was also incredibly sweet. You recalled that, while dealing with some unsavory characters that had children- typically rescuing the children at the other parents pleading- Red Riot was a favorite with them, his bright smile and charm keeping them distracted as Bakugou and Todoroki dealt with the problem.

Iida- Ingenium-was the getaway driver, best out of the best. He somehow always managed to get them out as quickly as possible while still following the law. It made losing the police all the easier. Ochaco Uraraka, or Uravity, was the treasurer, in charge of keeping account of all of the mafia’s funds, who owed them money and why. For more problematic clients, she was a stickler down to the very last penny. 

There were others, but those were just the ones in the room at the moment. You sighed softly, adjusting in Izuku’s lap. Someone at the end of the table was pleading for something. You could tell by the unimpressed glare on Izuku’s face that it was going south for whoever this was- a blond man with an inferiority complex for certain.

You glanced down at your left hand, engagement ring shimmering brightly despite the warm fluorescent lights. It wasn’t very large, an emerald surrounded by diamonds. He’d only given it to you a few days ago. On a rare day, you were able to go out with him in public-the benefit of a mask and some contacts while on the job- you had decided to flit about a few museums. The ring caught your eye immediately, the prized possession of some rich so and so, dating back who knows how long in their family.

Maybe it was because of how brightly it matched your lovers eyes, but the ring called to you. You didn’t mention a peep to your lover however. You knew he would have taken it right then and there. You rather liked coming to this museum, with added security after a robbery, you would have to frequent it less.

Your lovestruck fool of a man decided to do it anyway. He’d said that the plan went off without a hitch, though the smudges of dirt and a bit of blood- not his own- said otherwise. At the time, you had to question why, sure he’d robbed plenty of other places, gifts for trips that took longer than expected, but a place that you favored going?

“I’m just crazy about you doll, You deserve the best of the best. The way you eyed that ring, I knew there’d be nothing else that would be more perfect for you. But, it’s not just because you fancied it that I got it for you. We’re together, we always will be...but I want to make it more official. I wanna be yours forever, and I want you to be mine. What do you say doll? Marry me?”

You couldn’t say yes fast enough.

A gentle nudge to your shoulder brought you out of your daze. You looked up to the love of your life.

“What do you think dollface? What should we do with Monama?” 

You sat up in his lap, watching as the blond shivered in his spot, a smirk on your fiance’s face hidden by his fist as he leaned against it.

“Monama, what is it he did again?”

“Well Doll, he owes us money. He swears he’s good for it, but this is the third time he hasn’t been good for it.What should we do with this foolish, foolish man?”

Monama...ah yes now you remembered him! A little wanna be Mafia leader who went under when he ran out of money. He placed bets with other rival gangs against Deku, proclaiming that not only could he and his group get it done, but get it done better. 

There were times when they had, though just barely. It was hardly enough to keep a betting pool aimed against Deku however. Everyone but him seemed to know it. The overconfidence in his group and underestimating Deku lead to his downfall when Deku pulled off an impossible mission without even having to undo his tie.

When these gangs came to collect, he begged Deku to allow him and his group safety, help paying off the debt. Deku agreed, but in return, he had a year to earn the money back, only adding interest when the blond began getting too cocky. 

“I just need a little more time! A day, give me a day!” he pleaded, voice shrill and desperate. 

You winced, brows scrunched in annoyance.

Honestly, you didn’t care for Monama, and weren’t all too excited for his continued presence in the gang. You looked down at your nails idly.

“Have Dynamite follow him for a day then. If whatever magic he seems to think he can pull off, doesn’t in fact pull off, then he can have fun beating the change out of him. Or, whoever he’s seeing to get the money can pay it” You figured, even though he’d be annoyed at the idea of tailing that worm, Bakugou would have a good time beating it out of him.

Izuku gave Bakugou a look, who only snarled in response. A tilt of his head and Bakugou got up from his chair, footsteps heavy as he grabbed Monama by the arm, “Let’s get this over with you pathetic extra,” rolling his eyes as Moana sagged in slight relief, gratitude spilling from his lips.

Izuku held up a hand, “Let Red Riot escort him out for now. We have some business that you’d like to be here for I’m sure”

Bakugou’s eyes widened a fraction, a grin making its way onto his face as he shoved Monama towards Kirishima.

As Bakugou took his seat and Kirishima exited with Monama in tow, another man entered the room, a small man with purple hair. You recognized him as Mineta’s father. His son’s invention, a sticky substance that rendered anything in its grip as good as stuck, was what kept him in the group. What had him on thin ice however, was his treatment of the women in the group, all things he learned from his father. Izuku left Iida to beat it out of him however he saw fit. All it would take is one more strike. 

His father, however, was all out of strikes. The way he leered at you and the other girls had you all walking on eggshells around him. You only came forward to Izuku about it after you and the others had confided in one another. He had groped at you after a party the gang had thrown. It was the first and last time he’d ever made a physical move towards you.

You could feel the man's lecherous eyes on you, making you lean into Izuku, his body blocking the man's gaze. 

While you told him your story, Izuku’s face had remained calm, though the cup he had been holding shattered into thousands of pieces. He knew there were rumors about the senior, but to have it be found out as fact, and not just rumors from other gangs... He was furious, you knew that, and you knew somehow, someway, that Minoru senior would pay.

“Doll, why don’t you go talk to YaoMomo about wedding dresses, hm?” You nodded your head, though hesitant to leave the safety and comfort of his lap. You knew you were safe with Izuku by your side, but that didn’t mean you were comfortable passing by this...Disgusting being. His gaze softened and he hooked his arm around yours, escorting you personally towards the door.

Izuku tilted your head into a sweet kiss, his thumb rubbing comforting circles onto your side.

Izuku opened the door for you, but before you left, he kissed you again, deeper, sweeping away the sickly feeling of being watched with his tongue as it danced with yours, one hand cupping your jaw to pull you close.

He pulled away all too soon for your tastes, hand leaving your jaw, “Actually, maybe talk with her about the cake too, this may take a bit...” he turned away from you, eyes turning cold and jaded as the door closed.

“It’s about to get ugly in here”

[bitch-its-me-alv]

He is mine, bitches

Male Marinette! Male Damian! 

(Next You can’t touch what’s mine, bitch)

Damian did not have a type, he was a ex assassin, trained to eliminate useless impulses such as attraction, or romanticism of his person.

He didn't have a type, he didn't have ... he didn't ... he…

Oh my god, did that guy just threw a motorcycle? Damian had to get his number, his name, something!

Maybe not like robin, that would be clearly irresponsible and unprofessional. 

Judging by his outfit, he was at gotham college, the same one his civilian alter ego was in. That was convenient, he could approach like Damian wayne. 

Was Damian better than Robin? Who would attract him the most? Would he even like Damian or Robin to put his tongue down his throat?

Wait, he was talking to him! 

“I need you to take me to the hospital, I just threw my motorcycle at those thugs, could you?“ Omg, he was even more gorgeous up close, big, slanted eyes of blue, like the cosmos or something magical. Before Robin could answer him Red Hood intervened.

“Don't worry man, our Robin here will be happy to take you after your statement.” Red hood slapped his back.

The boy was even taller than Jason, Damian wasn't sure if he would survive the trip to the hospital on his motorcycle.

Robin momentarily emerged from his stupor, after red hood left, maybe hood thought it was bothering him, Robin was not comfortable with civilians after the fight, he was more fighting, hitting and then leaving the disaster for the police.

“If you're hurt, we could go first to the hospital” Robin said.

“Oh no actually, my friend Chloe was rushed to the hospital after the gas of fear paralyzed her. I am worried that when she recovers she would sue the entire floor.”The bluenette smiled

Robin just nodded, praying that none of his brothers would notice the blush under the mask, or worse, Batman might noticed.

On the way to the hospital, Robin felt the physical difference between him and Marin. It almost felt like he was being hugged by Marin.

They arrived in record time, Robin had a slight disappointment in his chest, but he crushed her, reminding himself that he would meet him later as Damian.

Marin got off the bike in front of the hospital. “Thanks for the trip robin, maybe you should go in too, that blow seems serious.” Marin touched the wound that went through his mask.

Robin didn’t blush, no one can prove it.” Things like these happen all the time, don't worry.”

“Well, I would say I hope to see you soon, but I don't think that's very good. So try not to hurt your gorgeous face.”

Leaving Robin flushed, he turned around to enter the hospital. Chloe would go crazy when he told her he flirted with a vigilante.

➞ ➞ ➞ ➞ ➞ ➞ ➞

If someone asked Marin why he had moved to Gotham city, he would tell the easy lie. After so long as a traveler with his nonna he had decided that he would finish his education in a normal and established way. And since his uncle Jagged and his aunt Penny owned a condo in the city, it was nothing suspicious.

Yeah, it is not as if the rest of his family is not completely legal and they are also conveniently around Gotham.

And if he had to hide some welcome gifts that his godparents and godmothers gave him like, a personalized flamethrower, a carnivorous plant as a pet, or exploding mallets. No one else would know, because he was not very interested in taking people home anyway.

After many close calls like Adrianna Agreste, or Lian Rossi, he did not want to rush into relationships.

But Damian was so cute, maybe he could do an exception for him. I mean, when he practically hit his chest with that stoic expression it was nice, but when Marin made him blush it was even better.

Marin was very good at flirting but not very good at getting compliments. So after seven weeks hanging out as friends, Damian discovered that he could hit him back with compliments.

Damian was in the ninth cloud, Marin was more than he had anticipated, and he couldn't love it more. He was so perfect, and that's why he had tried twice as hard to hide it from his family, he didn't want them to scare Marin away. But his plan was threatened by his very annoying and best friend, Jon.

“I seriously can’t believe it Damian, you got yourself a boyfriend and you didn’t tell me, i’m so upset.”

“Don't be dramatic kent, he is not my boyfriend ... yet. And if I did not tell you it was so that there were no rumors that would reach my family.”

“Damian, it doesn't matter, you got yourself a boyfriend and besides he is hellaMari12, I can never forgive you, meet that bonbon and save it for yourself, very bad Damian.” 

“What nonsense are you babbling kent? hellaMari12? Bonbon? Do you want my katana on your face?”

Jon showed him his cell phone, in a very famous instagram account, where in all the photos marin appeared, in a very specific one, with canvas pants, and a sweatshirt that showed his abs.

Damian couldn't control the blood that ran up his face, omg that photo was so hot. But a big part of himself was not distracted, this photo was public and had three million likes. His possessiveness made him frown, he was still not her boyfriend, he did not have to be angry, and even if he were, he had no right to claim him.

Damn, why did Marin have to be so attractive and kind? Now he not only had competition in Gotham, but also throughout the internet, excluding all the places he had been and assuming he had no suitor abroad.

Damian would have to hurry, because if he got distracted he could lose, and Damian Al-Ghul Wayne never lost.

➞ ➞ ➞ ➞ ➞ ➞ ➞

Marin was nearing the end of his patience. If damian was still so nice to him and didn't kiss him, Marin could hit something or kiss him until his soul was taken out.

With his attractive face in a constant frown, his jade eyes always fulminant, his olive skin so shiny and smooth. His always so neat black hair and his expensive cologne… Damn Damian why don't you just kiss Marin already?

That night Damian and Marin had arranged to do a marathon on how to train your dragon, because the green-eyed man had never seen such a work of art.

If Damian hadn't kissed him before the end of the first movie, Marin would. He had already arranged everything, hid the suspicious gifts, threw the dirty clothes into a closet that he had never opened before, shook the sofa. He put flavoring ... everything so that the atmosphere was perfect.

While they sat on the couch eating sour treats, with damian criticizing the characters' unrealistic choices. Damian let the sugar spread across his lips, unaware of himself as he concentrated on the movie.

Hiccup was about to feed the dragon when Marin couldn't resist any longer.

“Hey Damian, I'm about to kiss you. You can walk away if you don't want it”

Damian had recorded the question, had heard and understood it. But I couldn't believe it, so I just nodded hoping it wasn't a hallucination. 

It wasn't, the hallucinations weren't that perfect.

They were completely lost in their kisses, their environment disappeared as more and more time passed kissing, tousling the hair of the other, writhing to be closer together although that was impossible.

Someone's phone started ringing and suddenly the world was more than just the two of them. Damian was on Marin's lap, his arms under his shirt, and his legs wrapped in a possessive grip on his hips. Marin had one hand buried in Damian's midnight hair, and another dangerously low on his back.

They admired each other for five long seconds, until their phone rang in unison. They did not separate, they had been waiting for this for a shameful time, they could not lose it now that they had started it.

From Damian's phone were notifications from his brothers, asking about his absence hours before the patrol. He reply quickly informing them not to expect him and not to try to track him down. With a couple of threats in the family chat to let them know it was him, he turn off the phone and throw him away from where he was sitting.

On Marin's phone there were a couple of messages from chloe letting him know that if Damian made his boyfriend he would have to pass the blonde test, or she wouldn't approve it. While in the chat of their rouge godparents and godmothers, they would message each other about an assault they would do together soon. 

Marin answered chloe briefly, and ignored his uncles, there were things that he had to turn a blind eye to.

“So ... do you want to stay here at night?”Marin gently rubbed the spot where his left hand was, giving Damian nice chills.

“Had you anticipated this Dupain-cheng? Did you feel lucky?” Damian didn't take his eyes off his lips, making Marin blush slightly.

“I was confident, don't think I hadn't noticed how suddenly all our dates involved sweating and taking off my shirt.” 

Damian shut him up with a kiss, not because he was his boyfriend he was going to allow herself to lose to him.

The night passed with many kisses, hickies on the neck and under the clavicles. His words were lost somewhere between four and five in the morning. Falling exhausted on the sofa one on the other, with the warm sensation in their bodies of knowing that their love was reciprocated.

When the sun raised Damian was ecstatic, he could already hit all those with romantic intentions towards Marin. He could kiss him without being rejected, but… He didn't really know much about romantic relationships, but He’d find out along the way.

Marin was also full of excited and happy energy, fluttering around his kitchen and taking photos of everything as souvenirs for his future anniversaries.

After many signs on the sofa with Damian, and of him just being art lying on the sofa. Damian decided that everyone on the internet should know that Marin was not single.

With a simple photo published in Marin's account, with both disheveled and illuminated by the rising sun. The eyes of both seemed clearer than they were.

In the description Damian did not try very hard, with a simple he is mine, bitches settled, and let his followers burn while Marin danced in the kitchen and Damian tried not to get weaker for that boy.

[ladyanaconda]

Helluva Dad Vol. 3: Nerd

As I mentioned in the first one-shot, the events of the Harvest Moon Festival took place before Murder Family in this AU, so the discovery of the angelic weapon went differently. In other words, this prequel is where the canon divergence begins. Enjoy!

*HB-*

It's gonna be nice working with him. I asked him if he wants to join I.M.P.

Moxxie couldn't get those words out of his head. Striker working at I.M.P.? As much as he hated to admit it, he could actually picture it. The cowboy was an ace at… Well, everything, as far as he knew. This didn't mean Moxxie was happy at the prospect of having him as a co-worker, however. Striker had done nothing but rub Moxxie's lack of physical strength and 'balls to his face; heaven, even Striker's five-year-old kid made fun of him in a more innocent, child-like manner.

Moxxie felt a pit in the bottom of his stomach; if Striker does join I.M.P., where would this leave him in the company? Blitzo's the boss, Millie the powerhouse, and Striker might as well replace Moxxie as the weapons expert, not to mention become an additional powerhouse. Where would that leave Moxxie? Besides, he wasn't sure if he wanted to work with the guy who humiliated him via song, the one thing Moxxie thought he'd at least be better at.

Joe and Lynn never liked Moxxie for Millie from the beginning. 'Too much of a wimpy fag', he overheard them say more than once. 'He can't handle something as simple as gathering eggs from the chicken coop*, how is he going to protect or provide for Millie?' Striker, on the other hand, was strong, imposing, fearless, manly. They treated him more like a son-in-law than Moxxie even if the cowboy wasn't wedded into the family. Moxxie was no fool; he'd seen his parents-in-law subtly trying to get Millie alone with Striker and have them spend time together, practically screaming 'dump your wimp of a husband and fuck this real man'.

These thoughts crossed Moxxie's mind as he climbed upstairs. Everyone else was outside, which was good because he wanted to be alone right now.

There was a thump in one of the rooms. Following the sound out of sheer curiosity, Moxxie noticed a white glow filtering underneath the door. Hey, isn't it Striker's room? Moxxie has a policy against entering someone's bedroom without permission, but his spite towards the cowboy imp and curiosity got the better of him.

He found little Jake on the bed. The impling looked frightened for a second until he noticed it was only Moxxie. "You not daddy!"

"What do you go there, little fella?"

"Nothig!" Jake spread out his arms in a feeble attempt at hiding whatever thing was on the bed. Moxxie only had to take a few steps forward to peek over Jake.

"Oh, my crumbs!" There, in a long case, was a beautiful black rifle with silvery designs that almost seemed to glow with a heavenly light. "A genuine carmine crafted blessing-tipped rifle."As Moxxie tried to touch it, Jake snapped his teeth at his hand. "Hey, watch it!"

"No touch! Daddy's rifle!" Jake growled adorably. Geez, the brat's got his father's awful character.

"How… How in the fuck did he get one of these?"

"Why don't you ask me, little dude?" Moxxie and Jake froze, though the latter seemed more like 'shit I'm in trouble' than 'shit I'm dead.

Striker was leaning against the door, arms crossed. He didn't look very happy.

"Boy, I thought we'd talked about this already," he told Jake sternly.

"I… I just wanna touch it, daddy." Jake whispered timidly.

"W-Why do you have this?! Mister!" Moxxie asked nervously. "You are aware this kind of weapon can kill…"

"...Demon royalty?" Striker finished grimly.

"Yes, that."

"Duuh! That what it for, dummy!" Jake stuck his tongue at Moxxie.

"Kiddo, Mrs. Lin is baking the lava berry pie you like so much. Why don't you go take a look while daddy has a word with Moxxie?" Did Striker just call him by his name? Jake yelled happily and climbed off the bed, speeding out of the room.

Moxxie felt a shiver down his spine as Striker closed the door shut behind him. "Well, I'm… I'm relatively concerned by your possession of this…" he stepped back warily as the cowboy walked towards him with a devilish grin, eyes glowing as he came to a halt right in front of Moxxie, silently staring down at him. "I'm also glad my instant dislike of you has been validated!"

Neither moved for a while. Then, against Moxxie's expectations, Striker gently moved him aside to gently run his fingers along the weapon's side. There was a sad, almost nostalgic look on his face.

"I cherish it, you know. It used to belong to someone who was very dear to me. Nowadays I rarely use it, though. So it's more like a memento." Moxxie was quite surprised at the emotion in his voice.

"Then you have used it."

"Well, I wasn't always a farmhand, little fella. Let's say I'd make a living as a hitman." Striker sat down on his bed, eyes on the rifle. "Whenever people wanted someone dead, they'd call me. Kind of what you guys do at I.M.P., but down here in Hell." He sighed. "Then my… priorities shifted."

Moxxie was about to ask him what he meant when he spotted a small box full of toys. "...Jake."

Striker nodded. "When Jake was born, I realized that kind of job endangered both my and his life on a nearly daily basis, so I had to retire and find a safer job. It's not as exciting as the thrill of shooting people's brains out of their skulls, but it puts bread on the table."

Moxxie wasn't sure what to say. Tentatively, he sat down next to Striker, rubbing the back of his head awkwardly. He wasn't pushed off, so he guessed it was okay.

"You've done a decent job, you know. He's a good kid… Most of the time." he murmured the last part.

An awkward silence followed until Striker spoke again. "So, Blitz said you're I.M.P.'s weapons expert."

"I am. Why, is it such a surprise for you?"

Striker shrugged. "What can I say? You don't give that impression, wimp."

Offended, Moxxie pulled out his pistol. "Walther P.38!"

Striker raised an eyebrow. "Looks pretty anemic compared to the peacekeeper."

"It's not about size, you know. It's about stamina."

"Is that so?" Striker smirked. "What can you tell me about the Thompson submachine gun?"

"Fifty rounds a drum, twenty-five a mag!" Moxxie said in excitement. "It's a good weapon, but its cocking mechanism always jams. The Russian P.P.S. personal assault weapon is a better choice."

"Maybe, but in the end, it's the experience that wins the day. It's not all about firepower."

"Indeed! I mean, even the best gun in all of Hell can be wasted in the hands of a newbie."

Striker laughed and gave Moxxie a strong pat on the back, unintentionally sending him to the ground.

"Not bad, wimp. Looks like you are good at something, after all."

Moxxie blinked in disbelief. "Was that a compliment?"

"Don't get used to it, little nerd." Striker chuckled, smirking. "You still have a long way to go to earn my respect."

"Who're you calling a nerd?!"

"Bowtie, fragile arms, pushover, you're afraid of a mere rooster. Should I continue?"

"For your information, I'm not afraid of the rooster!" Moxxie crossed his arms. Striker raised an eyebrow. "...I simply don't like the idea of getting infected with the avian flu, thank you very much."

Smirking again, Striker closed the case and walked out of the room. "Nerd."

"I'm not a nerd!"

*HB*

*A callback to the scenes in some movies when someone goes to the chicken coops to collect the eggs and is attacked by the rooster. Come on, you can't tell me you don't see this happening to Moxxie. And if living roosters are a pain, just imagine one straight from Hell.