#longest one I've ever done heads up LOL

[justauthoring]

that cherished feeling.

it's a feeling you've never felt before, but bakugou shows you just how wonderful it can feel.

a/n: this is the longest oneshot i've ever written and ive been working on this for like a week lol. i really hope you guys enjoy this :)) i love fantasy au's and specifically (1) barbarian!bakugou!

pairing: barbarian!bakugou katsuki x f!reader

word count: 8,010

warnings: parental abuse, death

“Make sure she looks decent enough for him.”

With a frown, you keep your gaze held ahead even as you’re pulled and tugged in all directions without a single care for your own wellbeing. You know to keep silent, hands held tightly before yourself to stop the violent shaking that overwhelms your body caused by the fear that strikes you deep in the heart.

“He’ll be here any moment,” your step-mother continues, voice cruel, “hurry up!” Her words are hissed at the maids that fret around you, bustling about as they pin your hair back and dust makeup across your face to hide the insecurities your mother refuses to let him see. They’ve been at it for hours now, or at least it feels that way, and you’re tired of being poked and prodded at all for the sake of a man who will probably kill you the second he’s done using you.

They’re barbaric..

They fuck and kill and pillage anything within sight.

They’re monsters.

You’ve heard these whispers around the castle your entire life, maids tucked into corners whispering amongst themselves, the cruel words your step-mother has spat to her council plenty of times. Your entire life you’ve heard about how horrible the Adroghar’s are, that they came into power and nobility by killing Kings, Queens, Princes and Princess’ of different lands, stealing money and destroying villages. 

Your entire life, you’ve been terrified of them.

And now, today, you were about to be married off to one – in other words, sold.

Have you heard? The Queen means to sell Y/N off to the King of the Adroghar tribe!

To Bakugou Katsuki? Isn’t he said to be the most ruthless King they’ve ever had in power?

He’ll kill her. Or worse. Certainly.

If it’s for our safety though, I can’t say I care much…

Yes. Our Queen is doing her best to keep us all safe.

Your step-mother has hated you since the day you were born. You were a constant, living, breathing reminder of your father’s indecency towards her and the second he’d died when you were two, she’s made it her goal to remind you of this fact every day of your life. You’ve been beaten, starved, locked away and treated like garbage by every single person you’ve ever known.

You’ve never felt love. Never felt warmth.

Not a single person has ever cared for you.

And now, to stop the Adroghar tribe from trampling on your land, your step-mother has sold you off to appease them. You had no say just like you never have.

“They’re here!”

A knight comes running into the room, flustered as he calls for your mother’s attention. His words make your entire being freeze, breath caught in the back of your throat as the fear makes your muscles tense.

“The Adrogharian tribe is here!”

Everything else happens in the blink of an eye–you’re forced to move, pulled by hands that grip and pinch at you, your corset tightened around your waist and a sheer shawl draped over your face to cover you from view. Before you know it you’re being led into the main hall where quickly the sound of boisterous chatter echoes and bounces around. You keep your head dipped down as your mother ordered you to, hands clasped politely before you as your nails dig and pinch into your skin.

The second the large doors slam behind you, you know your fate is sealed if it hadn’t already been.

Maybe you could’ve run. Maybe you could’ve tried to fight.

But you know it would’ve ended the same either way.

This is how it’s been your entire life.

Your mother stands directly in front of you, blocking you from view, but you let yourself slowly peek upward, through your lashes. You see the tenseness of your mother’s back as she moves to greet your guests, before slowly letting your eyes drift to who will soon be your husband. Katsuki Bakugou. He’s been the King of the Adroghar tribe for a few years now, having taken over after his mother passed–and since then has made quite a name for himself for being one of the most ruthless and cruel Kings to ever grace the Adroghar tribe.

Considering their record of ruthlessness, this fact scared you even more.

He’s tall, buff with wide shoulders and large hands. His hair is a light blonde that sticks out in every direction, unruly on his head and yet it suits his red, piercing eyes that seem as they penetrate your very sole. He’s wearing a cloak lined with fur, his neck decorated with necklaces with what you can only assume is teeth. The fashion of the Adroghar tribe is very different from the customs of your people, as he wears only trousers and no shirt, showing the world his chiseled chest.

He’s both intimidating and terrifying.

“Ah, King Bakugou,” your step-mother calls out, bowing slowly. It’s odd to see your step-mother bend for another, but you also know she’s deathly afraid of the man before her; given that they had the ability to completely wipe all of you out. “Thank you for making the long trip this way.”

Bakugou regards her with narrowed eyes, shoulders set back as he grunts out; “what’s this offer you have for me?”

Your eyes widen, hands clutching your skirt–he didn’t know?

Letting out a nervous laugh, your step-mother nods; “I heard you have yet to take a wife, my King.”

You watch, best you can see, as his lips set into a thin line. “Our traditions are different from your own,” he hisses, “but… yes. I have not.”

“Well, then, my Bakugou, I offer you my daughter in return for the safety of our Kingdom.”

She steps back then, and you tense, nails digging into the palm of your hands hard enough to draw blood as you raise your head just slightly. Bakugou’s eyes fall on you then, narrowed and dark as he regards you, and feels as if he’s peering into your very soul as you stare back at him then.

“Let me see her face.” Bakugou calls, gesturing for you to step forward.

You move to do so, but you can’t get your feet to work. You’re paralyzed with fear, you realize somewhere along the way–terrified of this man in front of you and the men that linger around him, laughing, cheering, all staring at you with the same leering look that fills your stomach with knots and makes it hard to breathe.

You catch your step-mothers gaze when you don’t move and she’s looking at you with wild panic as she gestures for you to step forward.

You can’t.

“Is she mute or just stupid?” Bakugou hisses.

Your eyes widen, and you feel like you might puke.

Your step-mother’s hand is wrapping around your arm in the next second, grip pinching, yanking you forward as a small yelp leaves your lips in response. You’re thrown, losing your footing as you come crashing to your knees directly in front of the King, your step-mother yanking the shawl off of your head in the next second and a new sense of vulnerability washes over you.

Your step-mother had adorned you in incredibly revealing clothing, more skin than you’ve ever shown on display for all of these leering men to see.

Too afraid to raise your head, you let out a whimper, curling into yourself.

You realize your actions could have you killed but you’re too afraid to care.

I’m going to be killed anyway… raped and then killed. What does any of it matter?

A minute passes and then slowly, Bakugou shifts in front of you. Before you know it, he’s kneeling in front of you, and terror strikes at you when you notice his arm move out of the corner of your eyes, flinching, expecting to be hit or worse, maybe he’s reaching for his sword to kill you–but, neither of that happens. You don’t feel pain or a slap across your cheek, instead, the touch is light and gentle despite his coarse skin as Bakugou gently clasps your jaw, moving your gaze upwards and on his own.

It’s the first time you’ve met his gaze head on, but oddly, his eyes don’t seem so intimidating this close.

He stares at you for a moment, a deep frown etched on his face, before his gaze raises, past you and onto your step-mother.

“Do you always treat your own family like this?”

Your eyes widen. Did he just–

“Bu-but my King, she wouldn’t–”

He scoffs, not even letting her finish and your step-mother falls eerily silent as he does. It’s like his entire personality had changed in the split second you’d been thrown to the ground. He shifts, his hands moving to grab you by the arm, but his grip is gentle, just tight enough to pull you up to your feet. You let him, confused and baffled by what was happening, as your arms curl around you to cover yourself, letting him guide you behind him as you turn to face your step-mother.

You don’t see it, too focused on her harsh gaze on you, but something warm is wrapped around your shoulders a moment later and your eyes fall on Bakugou with parted lips as he clasps his cloak around your neck. He doesn’t smile, but his eyes are soft as you grab his cloak gently, gripping the material close to yourself as the warmth envelops you. 

Bakugou turns to face your step-mother, his face dark and his words menacing. “I should have your head for that.”

Her eyes bulge, as do yours—you can’t believe what you’re hearing. You can’t believe what’s happening. Never once has anyone stood up for you, and the last person you ever thought that would was the man you���d been sold to. A barbarian. A monster.

Yet, despite everything you’ve been told your entire life, he didn’t didn’t seem like a monster to you at that moment.

Your step-mother sputters over her words, indignation flooding her as she stares back at Bakugou. Then, her eyes drift to yours, gaze cold and steely and you know in that moment, like everything else she’s felt has gone wrong, she blames you entirely.

“She’s just the daughter of a measly prostitute!” Your step-mother bellows, eyes crazed as she loses her composure, voice echoing across the suddenly silent hall. No one says a word as she stands there, huffing with rage. Even Bakugou’s men have fallen eerily silent. 

“She’s just the baby of a whore with not a single claim to the throne,” she laughs, hand reaching out to point towards you. “I was giving you to her as a ruse! She’s nothing more than scum on the underside of my shoe.”

The silence echoes and drags.

It feels like hours of agonizing anticipation as not a single person says anything. You can’t see Bakugou’s face but yours is burning red with the humiliation of your truth being spilled out to everyone, most of all Bakugou. Your step-mother has spent her life reminding you, never once letting you live without hearing similar words in the back of your mind. It wasn’t like your people didn’t know either—maids had spent their life leering down at you and knights had laughed at you anytime you’d drifted past them.

But it’s a new sort of humiliation having it be said in front of Bakugou and his men. 

A minute later, but it feels like eternity, Bakugou finally steps forward. It’s one single step, his wide back thoroughly blocking your view of your step-mother in front of you. It’s one step but he’s standing right in front of your mother, close enough to touch her.

“You should know,” Bakugou starts slowly, voice low. “That your background isn’t a matter of concern in the Adroghar tribe. We don’t care if you’re born from a whore or nobility.”

Your face eases, staring at his bare back.

Then, in the next second, he shifts. It feels like you blink and you miss it. There’s a flash of something red and then the thud of something falling to the ground, before your eyes lower and fall on the head of your step-mother, severed from the rest of her body. Her now lifeless eyes stare back at you, lips left parted from her attempt to scream before Bakugou beheaded her—but she never got the chance. 

“Kill the rest of them,” Bakugou orders, turning to face you, a streak of blood across his cheek.

Everyone?

He wanted to kill everyone?

“Here!”

Small hands are thrust in your face, gripping onto the delicate, beautifully made flower crown and behind the hands, rest a beaming face, staring up at you with twinkling eyes.

“For the princess.”

But– the children…

“P-Please!” You’re speaking before you realize it, your voice squeaking in panic as you step towards Bakugou. Your arm pulls out from beneath the large, heavy cloak he’d draped over you seconds ago, meeting his eyes imploringly. “The v-villagers! The children! Please, spare them.”

Bakugou turns to you, shocked eyes falling on you.

You take his expression as one of anger and with a cry, you fall to your knees, holding your hands out before you. “Please, my K-King. Spare the villagers. They’re… they’re innocent.”

A moment of silence passes. Your face is turned towards the ground, forehead all but pressed against the cold stoned floor, shaking as flashes of that sweet, innocent little girl smiling at you surface in your mind. They don’t deserve to die. You don’t care about the rest of them–not your mother who laid dead and beheaded a few feet in front of you and not the maids or the guards who have leered and laughed and tortured you your entire life. But the villagers–the children don’t deserve to die.

“Spare the villagers,” Bakugou orders, and your eyes widen, the beige of the floor flooding your vision. “But kill the rest.”

He–

“Stand up.” Hands fall on your arms, tugging you back to your feet as you stare at Bakugou bewildered. His face is blank, but there’s a hint of something in his eyes you just can’t quite make out. “If you are to be my Queen, I cannot have you on your knees. Not for anyone, including me.”

It seems the customs of the Adroghar tribe are much different than your own, the thought occurs to you. But it isn’t this fact that baffles you. It’s the fact that he calls you his Queen…

He–he still wants to marry you?

“I was promised a bride,” Bakugou calls out, as if he’d heard your thoughts and it’s the first hint of a smile you see on his face as he glances down at you. “I intend to have one.”

-

You stare at the licks of the fire before you, eyes watching the dance of the flames that heat your cheeks.  

In the dead of the night, Bakugou’s men are as loud as ever. They cheer and laugh around the fire a few feet away from you, some bustling about as they feed the horses and make sure everything is in order for travel tomorrow. 

You’d all only travelled for a few hours before Bakugou had called for you all to stop for rest. His men had seemed confused and you yourself had expected to travel for longer given that it had still been quite bright out at the time–but Bakugou had just brushed off the questioning gazes of his men and had helped you off the horse you’d been riding with him. His grip was gentle as he guided you to your feet, ordered his men to prepare a fire for you and then left you there once it was done.

You hadn’t seen him since.

You held his cloak which was still wrapped around your shoulders tightly, your grip tight as every step that sounded just a little too close made you flinch. You were confused and dazed by the events of the day, still not even sure if you’d properly registered what had happened. Your step-mother was dead, murdered in front of you, and now the rest of your family and all of your servants are dead as well. 

You’d expected Bakugou to reject the marriage at the end of it all but…

I was promised a bride. I intend to have one.

And yet he’d said those words so softly, with an odd warmth to them. Yet, you’d be taken with him as he left your castle, the only home you’ve ever known, placed on his horse right in front of him and now staring at a fire in his people’s camp. Yet, you were meant to follow him all the way back to his home and marry him.

Just how has your life changed so much in such a short amount of time?

“Have you eaten anything?”

Gasping lightly at the voice, your head snaps upwards, wide eyes falling on Bakugou’s. He’s stepping towards you, a plate in his hands as he makes his way to sit beside you on the small cot his men had prepared for you. Your eyes watch as he moves, not having properly registered his question as he takes a seat directly beside you. His leg brushes against your own and you hug his cloak tighter to yourself, body tensing.

“Sorry,” he mumbles gruffly, having caught your reaction. He pulls his leg away and then holds the plate out in front of you. “Are you hungry?”

Your eyes dance across the food on the plate, puzzled by the sight. It’s unlike anything you’ve ever seen before.

“All that’s… for me?”

Bakugou’s eyes flicker to the plate, raising a brow; “yes?”

“O-oh, thank you,” with shaky hands, you grab the plate, setting it down on your lap. You feel Bakugou’s eyes on you as you ponder what to try first. It’s not just the amount of the food on the plate, it looks much different than anything you’ve ever seen back at home. You may not have been fed much and whilst you usually were given scraps, you know that this is very different to the traditional food your people eat.

Tentatively, you reach out, taking a bit of it in between your fingers once you notice the lack of utensils and place it in your mouth. Instantly, you're hit with a wave of flavour you’ve never tasted before. Your eyes widen as the taste floods your entire mouth, eyes gleaming with delight as you let out a small moan without thinking.

Bakugou chuckles beside you.

Your eyes fall on him, cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

“Never tried Adrograhian food before, I take it?”

You shake your head, “that and… well, I’ve never had something so… full of flavour.”

Bakugou blinks, the smile fading from his lips as you turn away, trying to ignore the look on his face as you place your attention back on the food. The two of you sit in silence as you eat the rest of the food, perhaps eating faster and bit more messier than Bakugou probably would’ve expected from you–but you’ve never tasted something so decedent nor had so much food to eat all for yourself. 

When he doesn’t punish you the first few times for shoving your mouth full, you figure it’s alright too.

“Thank you,” you call out to him once the food is done, your voice a soft whisper as you smile softly over at him. “Thank you.” You bow your head.

“There’s no need to do that,” Bakugou calls out in a rush, shaking his head. “You don’t… I won’t… hurt you.”

Blinking, you stare at him, lips left parted.

Distantly, you notice red across his cheeks but Bakugou is standing before you can get a better look, pushing himself to his feet before turning, back facing you. “Get some rest,” he grunts, “we have a long day of travel ahead of us tomorrow.”

You watch him walk off, watch as his back grows further and further away, until you’re once again left alone. Except, this time you don’t feel so lonely. 

A small smile curls onto your lips as his words echo in your mind.

I won’t hurt you.

-

Adroghar is beautiful and unlike anything you’ve ever heard.

You’re not sure what you expected, but tall, ornate buildings with intricate and detailed designs across them all are not what you expected. There’s people everywhere, bustling about, and cheers echo as Bakugou comes marching through with the rest of his men, smiles on their faces as they reach out towards him, celebrating his return.

It isn’t barbaric.

And it isn’t poor and littered and destroyed like you expected.

It’s… lively and warm and inviting.

“So, this is the famous daughter of Cassian Heinrich.”

The second Bakugou pulls you off his horse and sets you onto your feet, you’re grabbed by a pair of hands and pulled into a bright smiling face that beams back at you. It’s a woman, her eyes twinkling with delight and her skin pink and her hair the same colour. She’s unlike anything you’ve ever seen before, and you’re shocked, confused by this sudden demanding presence but yet, as you meet her eyes, there’s only warmth staring back at you.

“Oi,” Bakugou calls out, a hand resting on your shoulder as his other hand moves to the girl and yanks her back. “Don’t bombard her like that.”

“Whatever, Bakugou,” the woman scoffs, brushing him off with a wave of the hand.

Your eyes widen at the action–isn’t he the King?

Just who is this woman to regard him so casually?

You half expect Bakugou to kill her for her lack of respect towards him, but as your eyes flutter toward him, you’re bewildered as he simply just scoffs, a light smile on his head as he shakes his head.

“Mina,” Bakugou calls after a moment.

Mina. What a pretty name.

“Hm?” she hums, eyes flickering lazily to glance at him.

“Could you please help Y/N bathe and find some clothes for her to wear?” Bakugou calls out, gesturing to you. “Make sure to wash that shit off her face.”

You pause at his words, eyes flickering to the ground as you distantly reach towards your face. It wasn’t that you thought you were particularly beautiful, if anything, you’d always thought you were quite ugly and your mother had reminded you often that you were. But… but you’d hoped maybe Bakugou had thought differently.

That maybe he’d seen something in you.

Had the makeup your mother had put you made you look worse?

“You really don’t know how to talk to women, Bakugou,” Mina scoffs, stepping towards her as she pulls her arm, tucking you into her side. You stare at her, blinking, before glancing over at Bakugou who stares back, baffled. “Don’t worry,” Mina sings, smiling brightly at you as you slowly put your attention back on her. “Let’s get you bathed and cleaned, all right?”

You nod, slowly, staring back at Bakugou who watches you leave.

Oddly, you don’t want to leave his side.

-

Mina was chatty.

Very.

The entire time she bathes you, washes your face and hair and dresses you, she barely stops speaking.

It’s comforting, in an odd way. She fills in the silence where you can’t find the words, too overwhelmed by everything to know what to say. 

She’s gentle, too. Where the maids back home had pulled and prodded, sneering at you as they reluctantly helped bathed you–it was rare, only on special occasions where your mother needed you for appearances but you’d always dreaded it. They were cruel and harsh and mean and everything in between.

Mina is none of that.

You even smile as she tells you stories about Bakugou. Apparently the two of them have known each other since they were children–them and a few others that Mina tells you about and assures you’ll meet soon.

Once cleaned, dried and dressed, she politely excuses herself, assuring you Bakugou will arrive shortly. You’re left startled when she distantly informs you that it’s Bakugou’s room you’ve been led to but she’s gone before you can say anything otherwise, so, once again left alone, you take a seat on the edge of his bed, not sure what to do.

Your eyes drift across the room, but you don’t dare move.

His room is rather vacant but large. There’s a huge bed, fur carpets draped across the floors and the bed, some swords lined on the wall and a set of armor tucked away in the corner, along with a desk scattered with papers right across from you. It’s everything you would’ve expected from a man like Bakugou.

Still, it makes you feel like you learn just a little about him.

You jump as the door slams open, body freezing as Bakugou comes barelling in. There's a nasty look on his face and it’s like he doesn’t notice you as he strides right past you, throwing a piece of paper onto the desk across from the bed. Your entire body tenses, shoulders straightening as you hesitate, unsure if you should say something or not.

But before you can make the decision, Bakugou’s red, piercing eyes are on you.

However, in an instant, the anger in his eyes is gone. Instead, his gaze softens, eyes wide with pure shock at the sight of you.

“I… I told Mina to lead you to a spare room,” Bakugou explains, “I wasn’t expecting you.”

You move to stand; “I-I can leave–”

“No,” Bakugou calls out, crossing the distance between you in seconds as he reaches for you. You pause, not daring to move as his hand hovers in front of you, instinctively flinching–he halts the second you do, panicked. Your eyes meet his, and you stare, both of you silent, before your gaze flickers to his hand, and you nod.

His fingers brush against the skin of your cheek, eyes dancing across your face.

“You look… beautiful.”

It’s not what you expected. 

It never would’ve been what you expected.

No… no one has ever called you beautiful.

“They covered you with all that makeup,” he continues, voice soft. “But now that I can really see you… you’re beautiful, Y/N.”

Your eyes stare at his cheeks warming.

“You… you really think that?”

He frowns, “yes,” and there isn’t an ounce of doubt in his voice.

Tentatively, unsure, you raise your hand, setting it over his own. “No one has ever called me that before.”

“Beautiful?”

You nod.

The frown deepens, and Bakugou wants to say more but all he says instead is; “well, you are.”

You smile up at him. Soft, gentle and demure. But there’s so much feeling behind the smile, portraying every bit of emotion Bakugou has made you feel in the short amount of time you've been with him.

“Thank you.”

And he stares back, unsure of the feelings coursing through him–he’d had every intention of denying your mother’s proposal, of slaughtering them all and you included. When he’d first seen you, he’d scoffed at the sight of you, dressed in fine silk that didn’t leave anything to the imagination, your face covered as it was tradition for your people. You’d look skittish, curled into yourself, head bowed and Bakugou couldn’t deny that in that moment, he’d felt nothing.

Not a single thing towards you.

And then your mother had grabbed you and tossed you to his feet, ripping the shawl off your face and Bakugou can’t quite explain it but… something had changed.

Everything had changed.

He thinks back to the conversation he’d had with one of his men just minutes before entering his room, about what was expected of him.

“You must consummate your marriage.”

Bakugou sighs, “I’ve told you, Sero, I have no intention of–”

“Why’d you take her back with us if you had no intention of giving her a child?”

Narrowing his eyes, Bakugou turns to look at the man standing across from him. “Did you expect me to just leave her there? With her family's blood across the walls and no one to take care of her?”

Sero pauses, face twisting into an expression of bewilderment; “I expected you to kill her like the rest of them. She’s just an ordinary human.”

Bakugou can’t rightly explain it but rage seethes through his body at Sero’s word. He’s crossing the distance over to him in seconds, wrapping a hand around the man’s throat and squeezing with a manic look in his face.

“Don’t talk about her like that.”

To his credit, Sero doesn’t falter; “I don’t understand why this girl means so much to you.”

Swallowing thickly, Bakugou huffs, pulling away as he spins, scoffing. “I don’t know,” he mutters, frustrated at his own lack of understanding. Sero was right. You were just an ordinary woman, apparently born from an illegitimate relationship. You had no special qualities, had been raised as a noble by the looks of it–you were skittish and quiet and jumpy and nothing special. 

Bakugou was the King of the Adroghar tribe. He had dragon’s blood coursing through his veins, had strength unheard of and the endurance and ability of a warrior. He’s been raised to be a King, to take charge, to pillage and kill and take what he wants without a single care for anyone else.

Most of all, everyone expected him to pick an Adrogharian woman to marry.

Not a human.

Not you.

“I’m heading to my tent,” Bakugou grunts, “make sure I am left alone.”

“Bakugou?”

Blinking, Bakugou is pulled from his thoughts at the sound of your soft voice calling for him.

He leans back when he realizes you’ve leaned forward, concern etched in your eyes as you stare up at him. It’s instinctive the way his eyes trail lower, and he does it without thought, eyes drifting across your soft, supple skin, taking note of the dress Mina had dressed you in; it was thin, the edges hemmed with lace and rather sheer.

Instantly, he feels his face warm.

You must consummate your marriage tonight.

“You may sleep here tonight,” Bakugou suddenly calls out in a rush, pushing himself off the bed and turning so his back is facing you. “I will sleep somewhere else.”

He’s opening the door before you can say anything, calling out a short ‘goodnight’ over his shoulder before the door slams shut behind him. You jump as he does, lips curving down as he leaves you, once again, all by yourself.

He must’ve been repulsed, you can’t help but think despite his words.

There’s no way a man like him could think you were beautiful.

-

It’s been a few days since Bakugou took you home and you haven’t seen him once since that night.

Your days are mostly spent in the company of Mina and a handful of maids that Bakugou had assigned to you. Despite the sense of familiarity you slowly develop each day, there’s a nag at the back of your mind at Bakugou’s lack of presence–you weren’t sure what you had done, but whatever it had been clearly had been enough to cause him to avoid you.

Today’s the first day Mina has left you alone, with the excuse that there are duties she’s been neglecting that she must attend to. You brush aside her worries, assuring her that it’s alright and spend the first hour of your morning sitting in Bakugou’s room, basically doing nothing. You expected Bakugou to have you assigned to your own room since that first night he left you, given that after all this was his room you were sleeping in–but he never did and still not really knowing your way around the castle completely and not being told otherwise, you remain there.

Then again, the lack of Mina or even your handmaids, makes the experience incredibly more lonely.

You’re bored.

Incredibly so.

So, you ignore the fear striking your heart, still unsure of the limits that were expected of you, and leave his room. The whole thing is one huge maze, but eventually you find yourself outside, tucked away into a huge field lined by a huge forest, with a cave directly in the middle of it. There isn’t a single person around, and everything is entirely silent; you can hear the wind brush through the glass and leaves, can hear your footsteps as you walk and can hear your own heart racing madly against your chest.

It’s beautiful. Everything you’ve seen since arriving here has been beautiful but this… little alcove is gorgeous.

Smiling softly to yourself, you crouch, letting your hands drift across the grass, enjoying the feeling of it against your skin. This is the most freedom you’ve ever felt your entire life and you’ve never been allowed to just explore without the prying eyes of your mother watching your back, staring you down with judgement and hatred.

It’s a new feeling and one you rejoice in, laughing quietly to yourself.

But you’re quickly pulled out of your own little world at the sound of thud, one that rumbles underneath your feet. It causes you to jump, body tensing in fear, head snapping upwards, only for your eyes to fall on… a dragon.

It’s… huge.

It towers over you, a great, large beast that steps out from beneath the confines of the cave, dazzling red scales and eyes that stare right back at you. Oddly, you’re not afraid–you’re frozen in the spot, standing there as it steps towards you, hands limp by your sides and you can’t find it within you to move or walk or do anything but… but you’re not afraid. This dragon could kill you in seconds and it’s one of the most intimidating creatures you’ve ever seen, but you feel comfort as it stares back at you.

You’d known dragons had existed and somewhere in the back of your mind you’d known that the Adrogharian tribe was famous for being dragon tamers–but you’ve never seen one in person.

It… snorts? You’re not sure. Its mouth opens and a noise you’ve never quite heard before comes out, a brush of strong wind hitting you directly in the face, nearly knocking you off your feet.

And then, somehow, you find yourself laughing.

It's the most beautiful creature you’ve ever seen

Distantly wondering if you’re crazy, you step forward, small, tentative steps until you’re directly in front of the dragon. Its snout is within reach, and slowly, you raise your hand, eyes flickering from its snout to its eyes, hesitant, before you let your hand fall on the front of its snout. Your hand barely covers any of the dragon, the sheer size of it massive compared to you but its scales are coarse and rough beneath the soft touch of your fingers.

Then, ever so slightly, you watch as its eyes fall shut and he pushes, gently, toward your hand.

“Oh,” you call softly, “nice to meet you too, dragon. My name is Y/N.”

It lets out a gruff, and you pull back with a laugh as it shakes its head.

“His name is Kirishima.”

A yelp leaves your lips as you spin, eyes falling on that of Bakugou who’s stood in front of you.

Panic strikes you, worried he’ll be mad you left his castle or worse, that you even left his room. Swallowing thickly, you step towards him, hands held out before you; “my K-King, I-I–”

“He normally doesn’t like new faces,” Bakugou cuts in gently, sending you a smile as he steps forward, turning his head towards the dragon. He reaches forward and the dragon, Kirishima, nudges its snout towards Bakugou, knocking into him far more aggressively than he had you. Bakugou barely nudges, staying strongly rooted to the spot as he pats Kirishima, before letting his eyes fall back on you. 

“My King, I just wanted to get some fresh air, I–”

“You don’t need to apologize,” Bakugou assures, “everything within the castle is yours.”

Every tense muscle in your body eases, shoulders falling with disbelief.

“I wanted to introduce you to Kirishima,” Bakugou continues, smiling over at his dragon. “We’ve known each other since we were children. He’s very important to me.”

Letting your eyes fall on Kirishima, you flush; “and you wanted to introduce him to me?”

“Of course,” Bakugou assures with ease, nodding. “Isn’t it normally to share these things with your wife?”

Biting your lip, you glance at your feet; “I wasn’t sure you still… thought of me that way…”

Bakugou frowns, “I apologize for disappearing for a few days. I was preparing a surprise for you.”

Turning to him, surprised, your lips part; “a surprise?”

“Yes,” he smiles gently at you. “For tonight. Mina will help you prepare as well.”

-

“A picnic?”

Bakugou’s cheeks are bright red as he stares back at you.

“Do you not like it?”

Gathering your skirt, you shake your head, moving to sit in front of Bakugou. You’d wondered why Mina had dressed you in such light, airy clothes, a pretty pale pink colour as she fretted over making sure your hair was back and out of your face. It made sense now, you realize, that she’d gone to such lengths.

All for a picnic Bakugou had prepared.

“I love it,” you admit with a gentle smile, voice still quiet as you nod at him. “I just wasn’t expecting it.”

“Mina helped me,” he explains, looking entirely too uncomfortable for something that was his plan. He’s sat across from you, one knee up which he rests his arm on, but his face is still burning red and it’s like he can’t meet your gaze properly as he explains. “I know nothing about wooing a woman.”

Before you know it, you’re laughing.

Bakugou’s eyes snap to yours, turning red even further (if that was even possible) as you quickly press your hands to your lips, trying to muffle the giggle.

It doesn’t help.

“Are you laughing at me?” Bakugou asks incredulously, eyes bulging. 

You shake your head, despite how blatant of a lie that is. “I’m sorry,” you apologize, biting your lip as you smile over at him. “It’s just… are you trying to woo me?”

Pausing, Bakugou meets your eyes before quickly turning away. “Maybe,” he mutters, before his shoulders fall. “Yes. Is it working?”

Leaning forward, you shift, brushing your skirt under you as you get more comfortable. “Yes,” you assure. “I just didn’t expect that. Most men would’ve just married me, regardless of whether I wanted to or not.”

Bakugou stares at you. “Is that how it’s like with your people?”

You glance at the array of food, pleasantly happy when you recognize a few fruits you used to love as a little girl–it’s been ages since you’ve been allowed to taste the sweetness of a strawberry.

“Yes,” you explain, as if it’s normal. “If I were… not an illegitimate daughter, I probably would’ve been arranged to marry a few years ago.”

You pause, however, when you see the look of bafflement on Bakugou’s face.

“I mean,” you start, slowly. “That’s why my step-mother reached out to you, remember?”

You watch as Bakugou swallows thickly. “I didn’t know until I got there and I-I… well, what I said… I didn’t mean it.”

Your brows furrow before it clicks in your mind.

I was promised a bride. I intend to have one.

Lips parting, you blink at him owlishly.

“I wouldn’t ever force you to marry me.”

Hands moving to fall in your lap, you force yourself to utter the words; “and… if I said I wanted to?”

Bakugou shifts; “marry me?”

You meet his eyes nervously, nodding. “Yes.”

“Then… I’d say… I’d love to.”

The instant relief that floods you is comforting, the smile curling onto your face once more at his reassurance. “I would be honoured,” you grin over at him, “I’ve felt that way since you took me with you.”

Reaching forward, Bakugou takes your hand in his own; “it’s I who feels honoured.”

-

You were dressed in a beautiful white gown, decorated with lace and delicate designs sewn into the material. It cinched at the waist and reached the floor, with a trail that followed behind you. Your hair had been twisted and braided and pulled up into a hairstyle similar to the ones you used to wear as a little girl. 

It was exactly like the style you’d grown up with and completely different from the Adrogharian traditions you’ve grown accustomed to. The only thing missing was the makeup across the face but you hadn’t argued when Mina had purposely avoided applying any–it brought both comfort and despair to you, staring back at your reflection through the mirror in front of you.

You… felt beautiful.

More than you ever had.

And it reminded you of home–of your childhood and brought a sense of comfort and familiarity to those early years of your life when your father had still been alive, memories of things you didn’t all together remember given how young you were but was a sense of nostalgia you rejoiced in. Before it had all been stolen from you cruelly and your step-mother had made it her goal to ruin you.

In that way, at the same time, it also reminded you of everything that had been stolen from you the second he’d died.

It was bittersweet and yet, it was the sweetest, kindest thing any single person had ever done for you and you cherished it.

“Are you ready?”

Turning to Mina, you nod.

You're led out of the room and down a few halls, until eventually the warm night air surrounds you. The sight before you astonishes you. Rows and rows of Bakugou’s men, all split in the middle where a path of flowers lay and at the end of it rests Bakugou, adorned in a regal shirt and trousers, so opposite of his normal attire. It looks odd on him in the same way he looks incredibly handsome.

And the realization sinks in then.

This is your wedding.

It had come to mind before given the dress but you weren’t sure, especially since Bakugou had talked about it but never beyond that initial conversation. You also figured that the wedding would be done in Adrogharian tradition.

This though? Made everything clear.

You turn to look at Mina who smiles brightly at you, clasping your arm in her own as she slowly starts to lead you down the aisle. Everyone’s eyes are on you, watching you but your attention is solely focused on Bakugou standing in front of you, hands clasped in front of him as he watches you grow closer and closer.

And then, suddenly you’re in front of him.

“Is… all this for me?” You whisper, clasping at your skirt nervously.

“Yes,” he nods, slowly, a nervous expression crossing his face. “Is… is it too much?”

You shake your head; “no,” you smile gently, “no this is… perfect.”

“Good.” His face eases instantly, and then, he tugs at the collar of his shirt. “Because this shirt is incredibly itchy and I’m wearing it for you.”

Despite yourself, you let out a laugh. It bursts from your lips, your hand instantly raising to cover your mouth as you giggle, glancing down at your feet. Bakugou stares at you as you laugh, never having heard the sound before, before he reaches forward, tilting your head upward by the chin.

He’s smiling gently down at you, his gaze the softest you’ve ever seen.

“Shall we get married?”

-

His touch is gentle–hesitant.

You can hear every breath he takes as you stare up at him, hands hovering before yourself.

“I don’t want to pressure you,” he whispers, using his arm to hold himself up. You’re splayed across his bed, the sleeve of your wedding dress slipping down the side of your shoulder, revealing bare skin that stares up at him mockingly. 

He wants you–but he won’t force you.

Pressing your hands against his chest, you try to ignore the shake of your body; “it’s not… that I don’t want to,” you confess despite the flush across your cheeks and the heat soaring through your body. “I just… I’m afraid.”

“Of me?”

And his voice comes out quiet, scared. You barely catch it but it’s there, eyes flickering up to meet him as he stares back at you, concern etched into his face.

“No,” you assure, shaking your head. “No, not of you.”

He leans back, shifting so he’s sat back and you follow his movements, pushing yourself up to face him properly. Your hands fall limp in your lap as you stare down at them, clutching at your skin tightly as nerves well inside of you, make your chest tighten and your body tense with anxiety.

“Then…”

“My K-King–”

“Katsuki,” he cuts in, reaching for you. “Call me Katsuki.”

You pause. “Katsuki… before you, I'd never known love.” The words are uttered with pain, hands moving to hold yourself as you turn away from him, embarrassed. But you wanted him to know. Wanted him to understand. “My father died when I was just a little girl and the second he was gone, my mother spent the rest of my life torturing me. I was tucked away, kept hidden from people while she beat me, starved me and told me how I would… never measure up to anything.

“The day you came, she had every intention of selling me to you as a bargain piece for the safety of herself. And she expected you to kill me.”

Licking your lips, you turn to face him.

“That or worse.”

He stares at you, lips left parted with the hesitance of uncertainty. 

“I expected the same,” you whisper, “but now I know you’re not like that. That you’re not some ruthless, barbaric man but you have a heart and your people love you. You’ve given me more happiness than I’ve ever felt and made me feel love for the first time since my father died… I’m not scared of you, I’m scared that once you see me–truly see me, I’ll lose you.”

There’s a beat of silence before Bakugou is leaning towards you. His hands fall on your waist and suddenly you’re falling back against the bed with a light huff of shock, eyes flickering up to meet his own that hover above you. He’s smiling, you realize, but there’s anger in his eyes–yet, it’s not directed at you.

There’s rage burning in his irises and you feel safe because of it.

“You’re unlike anyone I’ve ever met,” he confesses. “The second I saw your face that day, my world lit up. I want to kill every person who’s ever hurt you, if I haven’t already. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I want to make you forget about everything.”

You feel your heart quicken, his words echoing in your mind as you stare up at him and see only sincerity staring back at you.

His words are warm and loving and they make you feel like your skin is on fire, a lit with a sensation you’ve never felt. Love pours from his words and he stares at you like you’re the only person that matters–that you're the only person who exists in this world for him.

He envelopes you completely and you relish in it.

“Nothing could ever make me think otherwise.”

Reaching up, you cup his cheeks, fingers brushing against the skin before holding him, the edges of your lips quirked up with a soft, gentle smile..

“You really mean that?”

He nods, thumbs pressing into the pads of your hips, as his eyes dance across your face. “More than anything.”

“Okay then,” you laugh lightly, “then I give myself to you.”

He blinks, lips parting.

“Everything.”

And the surprise fades, replaced by pleasure as he leans forward, the ghost of his lips brushing against your own.

“And I give you the same in return.”

[amourtoken]

I will be the brave soldier that tackles this concept that others may be too afraid to tackle 🫡

I was gonna do one big post for the whole group but the Noah part took over so I'll split it into individual parts for you. Here's some stepbro Noah for you 💀

Anyway let's get into it I feel like im virtually stalling lol. Apologies if this is insanely long it may or may not be the longest thing I've ever written so forgive me if it's rambley or not that great.

CW: stepcest, mean/annoying ass Noah, oral (M receiving), dacryphilia, choking, spit, belly bulge, raw sex, facials, squirting, fingering, nipple play, mentions of breeding, Dom Noah ftw always, oral fixation, slapping (just in general, face and pussy yk), and if I missed any others pls let me know

*NSFW below the cut, MDNI*

♡ The day Noah moved in to your dad's house was the worst day of your life unbeknownst to you at the time. He seemed tolerable at first but it took zero time for him to become a raging asshole that lived to torment you it seemed. He always blasts music late at night, is constantly yelling while playing video games with those obnoxious ass friends of his that like to come over and somehow act even more unbearable and he has the audacity to walk around YOUR house like he owns the place when he's only been here for a few months. What a cunt.

♡ Noah loves teasing you as well. He's got a couple years on you and is SUBSTANTIALLY larger than you so somewhere in the back of his mind he feels like you're easy to manipulate and manhandle the shit out of cause he's older, bigger, stronger, ect. He likes the way your voice pitches up in a yelp when he walks by and smacks your ass hard enough to bruise, he couldn't resist, not while you had those little shorts on. He also doesn't think twice abt it being "weird" or anything, he really doesn't even see you as a relative at this point, you're both grown and you've known eachother for like 6 months at the most. The fact his mom wanted to bang your dad has no effect on his life aside from the fact he had to up and move to your city.

♡ every time your parents give you two the house alone, it usually goes one of two ways. Either Noah invites those previously mentioned friends over and you get to listen to them practicing new songs in your living room until your head throbs from the volume or Noah invites some random tinder girl over to fuck half to death while you get the pleasure of listening to it through the thin wall that seperates your rooms. You've done everything to muffle the noise, but the incessant rhythmic slamming of his headboard right against the wall is similar to water torture. If you didn't care about privacy (unlike him, he frequently throws your bedroom door open while you're changing or walks in on you fresh out of the shower) you'd storm into his room and tell him to shut the fuck up but unfortunately you're a nicer person than he is so you suffer for a while longer.

♡ you end up confronting him the next night while he's on a game with his friends (again being eye twitching levels of loud and annoying). You had the decency to knock but when he opens the door he's got his hair tied up halfway, shirtless, and shorts sitting so fucking low on his hips you can see the light trail of hair that runs up his lower stomach to his navel. You hate that he's your type because shouldn't that be weird? He's your step brother, that has to be weird right?

"Yknow if you take a picture it'll last longer, right? My eyes are up here."

♡ Noah apparently clocked your staring and he has this stupid smug grin on his face that you hate. Ultimately how can he be upset for you staring at him when his eyes are always glued to your tits or ass whenever he has the chance?? He has no shame. It's not that he's upset at you, but he knows deep down you're fighting something he gave into ages ago, and he's got you wrapped around his finger whether you like it or not. You can't stand him, or is it that you want to hate him so you don't have to admit your other feelings?

"Can I help you or are you just gonna keep staring at my cock? I'm kinda fucking busy."

♡ he's always been this brash and it still somehow shocks you every time. You hate he's not really wrong, you wouldn't have been looking if his dick didn't leave a scarily large print in those shorts he was wearing. No wonder all those girls he brings over are so fucking loud. You didn't realize you still hadn't said what you came over to say, it felt like your voice was trapped in your throat especially when you looked up at him and those pretty brown eyes of his. God you fucking hate him, you hate that you're jealous of everyone that gets to spend time with him and all of those girls he's brought over to fuck and never say a word to again. He's an asshole but fuck if he isn't a pretty one. You feel like this is wrong but everything about him is wrong so what's new.

"If you want a taste you can just ask."

"Come on baby don't act like you don't think about me how I think about you. I've heard you playing with that little pussy and whining my name before, so you can't really fake hating me now, huh?"

♡ you're literally standing in his doorway dumbfounded at this point. He knew? Oh.

"Bet I could fuck that uptight attitude out of you. Maybe that's all you need, some good dick."

oh!

He shifts from where he's leaning against the doorframe to palm himself through his shorts and your heart feels like it's actually trying to escape your ribcage. Is this even real??? You came over here to bitch at him for being a loud inconsiderate asshole and he's trying to fuck you? Why doesn't he feel like this is wrong, why don't you feel like this is wrong? Why do you have this childish crush on your literal stepbrother? You feel dizzy. Noah has you right where he wants you though, he's been onto you the whole time and he could've just been nicer to you but who doesn't love a good hatefuck? He figured if he broke you down enough he could build you back up into the perfect little in home cock sleeve he knew you really wanted to be. He's fucking gross I need him but he's not wrong, is he?

♡ your eyes flit down from his eyes to his hand that's wrapped around his clothed cock again and you thought your knees would give out. How does that even fit inside anyone?? No wonder his dates sound like they're in a slasher film, they probably feel like they're getting split down the middle. You don't have much more time to think cause he's pulling you into his room and forcing you onto your knees in front of him.

"You're so much nicer when you're not bitching at me for fucking everything. Always wanted to fuck that pretty mouth of yours anyway, can't talk with your mouth full can you?"

Noah laces a large tattooed hand through the hair at the back of your head and you wince at the sting. You feel like your brain is just empty now, honestly this whole thing feels so much like a dream you're not fully convinced it's real, that you're actually letting your stepbrother smear precum on your lips with the tip of his big cock. It's even more threatening when it's not straining against his shorts, the tip is a pretty pink and there's a big thick vein running up the underside. You can't even fit your hand around it entirely, and you're so wet over it you're sure you can see through your pajama pants.

"Open."

♡ you do as you're told and Noah tugs your hair a little more to angle your head back. He's clouded up your brain so much you barely react when he spits directly onto your tongue, reaching to smear the mess around with 2 of his long fingers. You're looking up at him with big puppy eyes that water pathetically when he slides those two fingers down your throat, thrusting them in and out deeper each time to see how well you take him. He laughs when you gag and your eyes water as he sinks his fingers as deep as he can get them, you're such a fucking mess it's pathetic but that's exactly what's making his cock twitch. You're exactly how he needs you.

"gonna be a good girl for me? Let me fuck your throat and maybe I'll make you cum after if you're good."

you squeeze your thighs together to try and get some friction when he slaps his cock on your tongue, he's so fucking heavy and thick you really don't know how he expects to fit anywhere in your body let alone your mouth. Regardless, you try. You reach up to brace your hands on his tattooed thighs and focus on kissing and licking all over the tip, looking up at him when you wrap your lips around it to see his head fall back in a deep sigh. Sure he's gotten head before but something about this situation just makes him so much harder. The hand in your hair tightens and he slowly starts thrusting into your mouth, shallow at first but as you start taking more of him and it gets messy, he starts going much harder.

♡ Noah's fucking your throat so hard you have fat tears spilling down your cheeks, you're trying so hard to take him well but when he sinks in to the hilt and holds you there until you're clawing at this thighs and whimpering around his cock cause you can't breathe you can't help but pull away to catch it.

"God you're such a fucking slut."

He punctuates the phrase by landing a slap on your cheek. Not hard enough to really hurt you but definitely enough to sting. Normally you'd be upset but right now? Fuck you're almost begging him to do it again.

Once you catch your breath you open your mouth expectantly and he's right back to it. This time he has both hands tangled up in your hair while he's fucking your throat. Thank God no one's home cause he's not even trying to be a little quiet, deep moans and growls freely flowing from his mouth. You can't help but feel a little proud of yourself, normally you don't hear him make much noise when he's fucking whoever he's brought over but he's being pretty damn vocal right now. You can tell he's close by the way his thrusts falter and right before he cums he pulls out to paint your face. Whatever doesn't land on your tongue he gathers with his fingers and makes you suck them clean.

♡ you'd think he'd need a while to get hard again but no, he honestly didn't ever stop in the first place. Noah's dragging you up off the floor and nearly ripping your shorts down your legs and shirt off your torso immediately, he's seen you naked on "accident" but now that he really gets to look at you and feel you, fuck it's so much nicer. He steps back to admire your bare form but he can't go 3 seconds without teasing you. He runs his hands up your body to massage your tits and tease your nipples, pinching and playing with them until you're whimpering and teary eyed again.

He "apologizes" by leaning down and laving his tongue over the sensitive skin, making you arch against him and you can literally feel him smiling against your skin. He doesn't pull away before leaving a few dark hickeys on the underside of your tits, admiring his work after.

You don't get much of a break for long before he's picking you up and tossing you onto his bed. You can't help but notice it's neatly made (or was) before he drags your attention back to him by slapping his tip right against your clit, making you yelp. Apparently he liked your reaction cause he did it again, this time with his hand instead and with a little more force. Your voice broke into a whimper as he started rubbing circles on your clit with his fingers to ease the sting from the slap. He's mean but he still wants you to feel good.

"Can you say please? I wanna hear you beg for my cock before I give it to you, gotta know you really want it."

that smug look returns when his name and various pleads spill from your lips while he's sliding his fingers through the slick mess at your entrance, spreading the wetness around and dipping into you just enough to feel how tight you are around his fingers. He's reeling over the thought of how tight you'll be around his cock.

♡ like I said he's mean but he still wants you to feel good, he knows you need some kind of prep before he gets to fuck you. His free hand is slowly stroking his cock while the other is teasing your entrance, gauging your reaction. He starts with just one finger but quickly ends up fucking 3 into you, watching your back arch pathetically off the bed while he curls his fingers right up against that spot inside you that makes black spots flood your vision. You're squeezing his fingers so tight he knows you're close. The hand on his cock comes up to play with your clit and you feel like there's a literal fire lit in your belly.

"Gonna cum for me baby? It's okay, you can. Just let me make you feel good, need you see you fall apart for me."

Your legs are shaking, you're panting and squirming. It really feels like too much and right before you cum you're begging and pleading Noah to slow down cause it's just too much but he doesn't, if anything he's picking up the pace. The sound of your wetness is almost as loud as your moans for him and it only gets worse when that coil in your belly snaps and you nearly scream. You're arching off the bed and clawing at anything you can grab, you've cum before on your own but you've never felt anything this intense and sure as hell never made yourself squirt so this is a first. Noah is elated, his forearm and sheets are fucking drenched but he couldn't care less about the mess he's achingly hard at the fact he got you to squirt at all.

Noah reaches up and makes you clean your mess off his fingers, sliding them down your throat again just to feel you gag around them.

You're so sensitive and your brain is so fuzzy you can barely hold your head up, your chest rising and falling quickly while Noah sizes his length up against your tummy and groans at your size difference. His tip lands right below your navel, fuck, he's gonna demolish you. He's practically dripping like a faucet at this point and can't wait to be inside you, he's wanted this since you two fucking met. Noah leans over you to spit directly on your pussy before spreading it around with his tip and prodding at your slit, he's not even inside and you're whimpering about the stretch just from him resting against you.

"Can I hear you say please one more time, baby?"

♡ you enthusiastically answer, pleading for him to just fuck you and he takes the chance gladly. You knew the stretch was gonna be a lot but fuck when he actually sank balls deep your whole body ached. You were so fucking full it was unreal. You thought he couldn't get deeper but he crawled over you to push your knees up next to your ears and the moan you produced was pornographic. His tip was pressed right against your cervix and every time he thrust into you he knocked against it, it was painful at first but once the initial sting of the stretch wore off you've never felt better.

You swore you could feel him in your stomach he was so deep, and the sound of his hips smacking against yours was filthy. There was that familiar sound of his headboard hitting your shared wall but thankfully this time you weren't annoyed by it, if anything it drove you further.

Noah's moans started out deep in his chest but as he got closer they pitched up almost into whines, he was bucking his hips into yours like an animal in heat and his nails were sinking into your hips hard enough to bruise. He only leaned back a bit to wrap a hand around your throat and squeeze, cutting your moans and whimpers into pathetic strangled sounds.

"F-fuck- fuck fuck- 'm gonna cum- so fucking hard- tell me you want it- fuck, tell me you want me to fill this pretty pussy up-"

Youd never seen or heard him so disheveled but fuck if it wasn't hot. You didn't hesitate to beg for him to cum inside you, it made his head spin at the thought. God this was wrong but he couldn't help but imagine how pretty you'd look carrying his kid either. Noah pulled back just enough to have you in normal missionary, you wondered why but when he pressed his hand on your lower stomach you figured it out pretty quick. He could feel exactly where he was inside you and was rutting against his hand through you like you were nothing more than a toy. He only stopped so he could grab your hand and have you feel as well. His dick made a noticeable bulge in your belly every time he thrust into you, and it only made you ache at the thought. He really was ruining you for anyone else.

♡ Noah slid a hand between your bodies to tease your clit while he picked up the pace of his own sloppy thrusts. He was gonna cum but he needed you to cum with him. The hand on your throat absentmindedly tightened and you were seeing black spots flood your vision already but when he sank as deep as he could possibly get and whimpered as he came you couldn't stop yourself from toppling over the same edge. You thought you'd never cum so hard in your life earlier but now? This was really it. You sank your nails into his arm hard enough to draw blood while you convulsed under him, breaking into sobs of his name while he ground his hips into yours.

Noah pulling out left you with a horrible emptiness and you almost begged him to stay for just a bit longer. He was considering it himself but his thoughts were cut short when you both heard the front door downstairs open.

Shit.

Noah nearly threw you out of bed, scrambling to pull his shorts back on. Your clothes were strewn everywhere and you didn't have time to hunt for them so you picked up the first shirt you could find off his floor and put it on before racing back to your own room. Thank God you made it quick cause Noah's cum was still dripping down your thighs.

-

*also just saw the rb but tagging @somebodyllelse cause I almost forgot 😭

[thefuseoftemptation]

wrong number

'you get a phone call and find out it's a wrong number but realize that you don't want to stop talking to the person at the other end. come to find out, he's from another decade.’

eddie munson x reader/ eddie munson x gn!reader

warning(s): cursing, au (not sure if it would be considered an au but imma put it), mention of modern time. I'm just putting tags I'm not even sure what to tag this under. lmk if there are more.

a/n: prompt # 4 from the strangerprompts by @allthingsjoeq @somnambulic-thing and @bettyfrommars. mkay, I've never done these types of things or participated before, but yknow, I took a shot and I liked it lol so thank you guys!

—

"What?"

Your voice was nothing short of clipped. The results of hearing your phone vibrate too many times for you to tolerate another call going unanswered.

It was abnormal in your opinion. To receive this many calls from the same number within a short time.

While sure, you occasionally complained about the lack of service that came through the device due to your inability to actually hold a relationship with anybody, much less a conversation, this isn't what you were looking for.

And if your shortness wasn't clear enough before, your annoyance must've been by the way you questioned a 'hello,' with a lifted brow. Not really saying it as one should when normally speaking to someone. That was, if anyone was even on the other side.

"Uh, hello." The voice imitated your previous tone, pulling out the last vowel as he sung it.

He.

If you had to guess, probably no more than your age.

"Huh, so you can speak? You know you could've begun with that? When someone picks up the phone after being called, who knows how many times," you state through your teeth, "the least you could do is have the decency to actually say something when they answer."

"Y’know I don’t like your tone, we’re going to try this again.” He mouthed.

“Wait, what? No-”

He hung up before you could refuse. Your phone pulled away from your ear as your mind tried to catch up with what just happened. And in the midst of that, your phone vibrated, again.

Your finger hovered over the button as you eyed the device, sliding it over when you’d been staring long enough.

“Hello?” You questioned, unsure. The shift in your tone is clearly obvious.

“You learn quickly.”

The same voice replied back, and his response had you narrowing your eyes.

Asshole.

“I had said it before. You were the one who needed the lesson in how to answer back.” You reiterate.

“Well, m’not about to respond to somebody who starts a conversation with 'what.' I mean, have you no manners?" The guy said. You could hear the lilt in his voice and how he seemed to be grinning on the other side, but you had to shake your head from thinking any further on it because there was still a question that you'd been meaning to ask.

"Who are you?"

"It's your conscience, clearly I haven't been able to get through to you which is why you're probably lacking, well, manners, but- worry not, for I am here."

You weren't sure if it was you still trying to comprehend everything that's happened in the last few minutes, or that this guy knew how to pull conversation so easily that you went along with it- but you hadn't even realized he never properly answered or that he just lowkey called you out on something you knew was evident to a blind person.

And you didn't even correct him, and rather than just hang up on someone you didn't know, you stayed on the phone and chose to enlighten him.

"Hm, so that's what that was? Who would've thought I'd have one of those," you sighed and shrugged, leaning back against the bed frame. You could hear him snort at the small insult you'd given yourself, hearing the feign in your voice was enough to let him know your humor was in tack.

It made you grin. The first of many, and the first in a while to tell the truth. You also couldn't stop yourself from thinking about how this was probably the longest conversation you've ever held with someone.

"I'm Eddie." His voice pulled you from your thoughts, trying to catch up in the moments you'd been away.

"Huh?"

You could hear chuckling before it was repeated. "My name. You asked me who I was."

Eddie.

It didn't sound familiar. You didn't know anyone named Eddie, but then again, you didn't really know anyone and you had questioned it when you guy's began talking. It was a number you'd never seen before either so there was that.

You hadn't realized you'd been quiet until Eddie spoke.

"Y'know, this is where you tell me your name." He remarked. "We really gotta work on your communication skills and social cues." Unbeknownst to you though, since you only just met the guy, he shouldn't be one to talk.

You let out something between a scoff and a breathy chuckle before telling him yours. And Eddie repeated what you did moments ago- saying your name under his breath, to himself- as if he was worried he'd forget it in those few seconds.

It was easy to get into conversation with him, primarily because he kept pulling you into things he’d knew would get a response out of you. Like saying shit that you’d end up reprimanding him for because it annoyed you.

He knew that, and you weren’t so sure you liked how transparent you seemed to be. You’d known him for only a short time and he already knew how to push your buttons. Which you told him but his response was anything but what you expected it to be. He simply shrugged it off, telling you that ‘you let it get to you.’

To which you rebutted fully knowing he was right, which annoyed you more. Though other than that, the conversation between you two had been decent.

There were a few times when you had been confused by what he’d been speaking about, but you just assumed it was the way he was. I mean, the guy spent- you’re guessing- most of his time today calling the wrong number, only to hang up on you just to call you again because he didn’t like your tone. And then went on to call you out on your shit, which by the way, you still haven’t let go of. Either way, you just thought that what he was talking about, was how he spoke. A sort of slang, you know? I mean, now, that’s all people use these days.

Who were you to question it? It’s not like you could ask anybody what it meant. You weren’t even sure what the words were yourself. I mean you did but nobody said that sort of thing anymore.

There were a few moments of silence that occurred, mainly between your guys' turns in speaking. It wasn’t until you heard him on his end that you asked what he’d been up to. He kept muttering something under breath.

Well, it was more him humming, every other minute or so though you’d hear a word, and the more he hummed- the more familiar it sounded.

“Is that…..Metallica?” You peeked, unsure if you were right. His side went quiet the second you said it, and you could assume it was because you were likely wrong in your guess.

“Y-You know Metallica?” Eddie enounced. He was standing upright, his previous stance of leaning on the frame gone, as he stood there with wide eyes and mouth agape at your sudden query.

So you were right.

“Uh, yes.” It came out sounding like a question rather than you stating the obvious. “My Uncle used to listen to them. Whenever he came over when I was younger, that was all I’d ever hear. He’d tell us he grew up on them, so it was only right that we did too.” You explained. Eddie’s mouth stretched up at hearing your words, too caught up in the recognition you had for one of his favorite bands, for him to even comprehend what you just said.

“I’ve never-” and then it hit him. His brows pinched together as he pulled the phone away from his ear. Did he hear you right?  “Wait…grew up on them?” If it hadn’t been for the way you told the story, as if it actually happened, he would’ve thought you were pulling his leg. And you probably were so he just reacted logically. He chuckled. “Mkay, right right.” 

It was your turn to pinch your face together, not understanding his sudden shift or why he was chuckling to begin with. “What? It’s true. The man grew up on them.” You raised, still clearly confused by his response.

“Mhm, sure.” You could hear the way he pulled the word, like he wasn’t convinced at all. Why was it so hard for him to get that what you were saying was true? “He’d have to be my age, kid.” He voiced.

W-What? 

“Excuse me?” You uttered, sitting up from your bed frame. Not only were you confused but you were getting a little freaked out. He sounded young, your age, give or take. There was no way you had been conversing with a guy in his 50’s.

“You heard me, he’d have to be my age. There’s no way this guy grew up on them. The band isn’t even that old, it hasn’t been that long. I mean, I get we were joking before but man, you really got me there. I almost fell for it!” Eddie said. “How old are you?” He managed through his breathy laughs.

You could feel your heart pick up, the genuineness clear in his voice. He really thought you were joking, that everything you just said in the last few minutes was made up. But it hadn’t been and that’s what had you getting up from your bed. This was beginning to be too much for you.

“E-Eddie, what are you talking about? You’re freaking me out.”

And suddenly it wasn’t so amusing anymore. His face fell upon hearing your tone. The humor he once found in the situation, now gone, as he stared ahead. You sounded worried, alarmed even. It was quiet for a few seconds until he spoke, his tongue swiped his bottom lip before he did so.

“Uhm, look t-this isn’t-” his hand wiped down his face. “W-What are you talking about, man? One minute we're laughing and joking around and the next you’re telling me about your Uncle growing up on Metallica. There’s no way! Mkay?” He was getting agitated, visibly shaken up as he thought about you on the other side in the same state. “Like I said, the band isn’t even that old. It's only been a couple of years, it’s 1986 for christ sake!” And though he had been saying it all so fast, you still understood them. It’s why you felt yourself unable to move upon hearing his last few words.

1986. 

The numbers repeated over and over in your head as you stood there. 

“W-What?” You stuttered, voice shaky as you asked. It wasn’t possible. “It’s not!” You raise, your hands moving with a mind of their own as you swiped out of where you were and looked at the screen. In the corner of your phone, the current date stared back. The time you were currently in. As in, right now. You could hear Eddie speaking but because you didn’t have it against your ear, you couldn’t tell what exactly he’d been saying.

It’s not possible, it's not possible, it’s not.

He said it like it was true. He didn't just think it was 86', he was saying it like he knew it was. It was just impossible, the year he said, wasn’t the year you were in.

You lifted the phone back up to your ear, hands unable to keep still as you look ahead. Your eyes glassy as you spoke.

“Who are you?”

Eddie’s breath picked up at the way you questioned it, your voice at a whisper. He ran his hand through his hair again, already disheveled from how many times he’d done it prior to when you went quiet.

“I told you. My name is Eddie....and it's 1986."

Your eyes shut as he uttered his name, the lack of deceit evident.

—

a/n: I wasn't sure how to end it.

feedback and reblogs are appreciated.

[ewanmitchellconnoisseur]

"𝑭𝒖𝒄𝒌 𝑳𝒐𝒗𝒆" 𝑬𝒕𝒕𝒐𝒓𝒆 𝒙 𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

A/N: This is part two of the Anti-Love Ettore one-shot.

Summary: Ettore mistakes a suggestion of yours as a sign that you're distancing yourself. It only gets worse when he spots you with some guy he's never seen before.

TW: Smut, Oral Sex (f receiving), fingering, tiddy sucking, lactation kink (with no lactation) p in v, creampie, bondage, vibrator play, violence

Word Count: 3k (I think this is the longest fic I've ever done lol)

← Previous Part • Next Chapter →

I can't remember who made the X Banner. If you know please tell me.

Your head was lying on his chest as you lazily drew shapes on his forearm over his tattoo. His hands gently rubbed your lower back as you both just lay there not needing to say any words. Just enjoying the moment.

Ettore had become fond of these moments. How calm they were. It was a big difference to how chaotic his life had always been. With you, there was only peace.

"Ettore?" As your voice reaches his ears he blinks back to reality and looks down at you. "Did you hear what I said?" He shakes his head while still rubbing your lower back.

"You should try BDSM. I think it would suit you. It would also keep you out of trouble." Ettore had heard of BDSM before but the costs alone to build a playroom was more than he had.

But that wasn't what was running through his mind right now. Why were you telling him this? He has no use for some random submissive girl when he has you. Were you getting tired of him? Did you find someone else?

You babbled on for a while about how you could help him start. Ettore didn't say a word the entire time. His brain bounced between different theories as to why you were all of a sudden interested in finding him a new fuck buddy.

Only when you moved to sit on top of him, straddling him, did he snap out of his thoughts. He looked up at you and held on to your waist.

"You ok?" He nodded. You knew he was a man of few words and expressed how he felt in other ways. His hips bucked upwards as he felt the heat radiating from your body just above his cock. It slowly hardened as Ettore thought of fucking any ideas you had of leaving him out of you.

Before he could initiate anything you kissed his cheek and got off of him saying you had to go.

To you, he was just being his normal self. You never would have imagined the turmoil going on in his head, the plans that were brewing. If only he had been honest from then about his feelings.

It could have saved you both some pain.

A day had gone by since you introduced the BDSM idea to Ettore. You had gone off to do God knows what. He assumed you were stealing stuff as you typically did in your spare time. He had calmed down slightly but his brain was still racked with thoughts of why you had brought it all up in the first place.

He managed to tell himself there was no cause for worry. That was until he tried to call you to hook up and you didn't answer. It only got worse when he texted you telling you to come over and you replied with "Can't. Im busy.".

Busy? Busy doing what? With who?

He paced around his apartment. Wondering if he should call you again. He chewed on his nails till they were too short to chew anymore. No matter how many deep breaths he took he couldn't calm himself. He had to know what you were doing.

In a matter of minutes Ettore was dressed and at the mall in a grey sweat suit with a black jacket. He had his hood up as he stalked around the local mall looking for you. He was there for about 30 minutes before he spotted you quickly walking out of a store.

A smile rose on his face when he saw you pull something out of your pocket with a smile.

See Ettore? She's just doing her typical shit.

The smile only dropped when he watched you turn around and wait for a boy to run out of the store after you. He was being chased by a security guard. You took his hand and began running as you both were in a fit of giggles.

The sight made his blood boil. He felt hot in his own skin and just wanted to crawl out. The guard gave up on chasing you both and returned to the store. Ettore began walking in the direction you both went. He needed answers. Who was this guy? Why were you holding his hand? Is he who you decided to spend your time with instead of being fucked by him?

He picked up the pace until he caught sight of the two of you heading towards one of the exits. it led towards the loading dock and was pretty much an abandoned side of the mall that barely anyone shopped in. He did his best to stay out of sight but with every step he just wanted to finally reach the two of you.

And when he finally does it changes your relationship forever. You barely have time to react as the man you are next to gets grabbed backwards by his hoodie and face-slammed into a brick wall. You scream as you see Ettore get on top of him and punch him repeatedly.

The man your with weakly tries to protect his head as Ettore continues to hit him in the head.

"Ettore stop! Get off of him!" You try to pull him off but that only redirects his anger. He stands up and shoves you. You stumble back and fall to the ground your hands scraping against the tough concrete. Ettore, driven by anger, pulls back his fist as if he is about to punch you.

And thats when he sees it.

The terror in your eyes. The tears that fall down your cheek.

The same look he saw in the eyes of the women he killed.

Seeing that look in your eyes. Your eyes... hurt him. Without knowing it you were the air he breathed. To know he had made you fear him, terrified him. He lowered his arm and ran off saying nothing else.

He doesn't remember much about what happened that night. He wakes up to his apartment trashed and can only assume his emotions got the better of him. He had sent you more messages than he could count and called you countless times. You ignored every call and message.

He didn't know where you lived considering you only ever hooked up at his place.

He had to get you to forgive him. He couldn't continue without you. He couldn't breathe without you.

He told himself that this wasn't love. That this was just fear of losing what you offered. Your wonderful pussy. The amazing sex. Thats all he's scared of losing, not you. He could care less about you.

It took him almost a week before he found out where you lived. He knew what bars you liked to hang out and started asking around. You were smart not to go out knowing he would be looking for you but eventually, you needed groceries. You stepped out to do some shopping wearing a more discreet outfit than you would usually wear.

Ettore watched from across the street as you pulled up your hood and walked towards the bus stop. He knew you would be gone a while and would give him time to do what he needed to.

You returned from shopping and carried in your grocery bags struggling a bit as the plastics pinched your fingers.

It's only when you step inside your apartment and place them on the table do you feel how the tense air. Your apartment feels different than before. You grabbed a knife from the kitchen and slowly walked towards your bedroom.

As you pushed open the door everything looked the same. You relaxed and took a deep breath.

Im just on edge. I need to relax.

"Drop it." You immediately tense as you hear his voice. You do as he says and drop the knife to the ground. "Turn around." Your heart beats in your chest, you're not scared of him, you never are, but you're scared of the confrontation. You turn around and face him.

"Ettore." He simply stares at you. When you first lay your eyes on him you notice his appearance. He doesn't look...well. His skin was pale and had dark bags under his eyes.

"You've ignored all of my calls and all my messages." He slowly takes a step forward and you respond with a step back.

"What was I supposed to say-"

"Hello, good morning, how are you? Fuck baby I don't know just talk to me-" He takes another step closer and you raise your hand.

"You beat my friend for no reason. Then you pushed-" He closes the gap between the two of you and pulls you against him.

"I didn't mean to...I...Im sorry." Ettore was not one to say im sorry. "Im sorry that I hurt you." He leaned down and kissed up your next stopping at your ear. "But im not sorry for beating that fucker up. He was touching you." He resumed kissing you while backing you up against the wall.

"He was just a friend." You want to be mad at him for what he did. You want to yell at him for being so violent but you can't.

"You ditched fucking me to hang out with him. You kept talking about this BDSM shit. You were planning on leaving me for him. I won't let you. I can't let you."

It all falls into place in your mind. He thought you were abandoning him. The realization made you smile and effectively softened your resolve. He was just scared to lose you, and this was his fucked up way of saying it.

You push him back slightly so you can see his face. Your hand runs over his cheek and he nuzzles into your hand.

"I wasn't leaving. I just thought maybe you'd like it more if...if you weren't just fucking me all the time..."

Deep down you had started to worry that over time Ettore could eventually become bored of you and even deeper down you slowly developed feelings for him. You knew he would never want a real relationship, and even if he did it wouldn't resemble the ones you see in movies. The ones you yearned for as a girl.

"I don't want no one else but you." He takes a deep breath and opens his mouth to say something but pauses every time. He leans down and kisses you cradling your face. It's softer than any kiss has ever given you. "And I don't want you to be anyone else's but mine."

You knew this was his way of saying it without saying it. He wants you to be his and he wants to be yours. Ettore watches as a smile creeps on your face and he knows you understood what he meant. He pulls you back into the kiss while walking you backwards into your room.

You end up falling on the bed and he crawls on top of you already pulling at your clothes. He undresses you while kissing every bit of newly exposed skin until you're fully naked in front of him.

He's still fully undressed and the idea makes you feel vulnerable. He has seen your body hundreds of times but you still press your legs together while your arms cover your tits.

He gently pushes a knee in between your legs opening them back up as his hands uncross your arms.

"You're beautiful." He rolls one of your nipples in his fingers while he suckles the other imagining again what it would feel like for milk to flow into his throat. The thought made him painfully hard.

He stands up for a moment and walks away before coming back. You sit up and watch as he undresses slowly before walking over to your dresser.

"I was doing some snooping earlier..." He looks over at you and smirks as his hands rest on the first drawer. You already know what it is he found and can't help but smile. He opens the drawer and pulls out your vibrator and a pair of handcuffs. He looks at you with one eyebrow raised. "Care to share why you have these."

You can't shake the smirk off of your face as he walks over.

"Move up." You do as he says and move up higher on the bed. Ettore returns above you and grabs your wrists positioning them above your head. He threads the handcuffs through one of the gaps of your headboard then locks each wrist. "You gonna be a good girl for me yeah?"

You nod as he kisses his way down in between your legs. He places a soft kiss on your clit before sucking on it gently. He looks up and watches as your mouth hangs open and your head is thrown back.

He moves on to fucking you with his tongue holding you tight as you try to squirm away. Ettore adds pushes in a finger and pumps it in and out of you at a relentless pace. His finger easily brushes that sweet spot and has your back arching off the bed.

You want to touch him and try to pull your hands but are only reminded that you're bound by the tightness of the cuffs.

He can feel you clenching around his finger and all he could do is smile against your pussy. As you cum Ettore praises you saying you did so well but he doesn't stop he asks you to cum again around his fingers and brings the vibrator to your clit as he adds another inside of you.

He doesn't stop fucking you with his fingers and the vibrator as he comes up and takes one of your nipples in his mouth while watching you. Your legs shake as you give him another orgasm, shivers running up your spine. He removes the vibrator and his fingers kiss your jaw.

"You did so good." He slides himself through your folds gathering your wetness on his tip. Instinctively you try to move away from being overstimulated but he holds you in one place. His eyebrows are knit together and his mouth hangs open as he finally pushes himself inside. "Relax for me, baby." Although it's only been a week since you've last fucked you're back to being tight from the lack of his cock keeping you stretched.

You both groan when he finally bottoms out. The hairs on the base of his cock brush against your clit only making you whimper more from the contact.

Ettore sits up and grabs onto your waist holding on as leverage so he can fuck you. He watches as a white ring forms around the base of his cock and how easily he slides into you now that you soaked. the only sounds heard are your whimpers and the wet smack of his hips against your ass.

"Fuck- please Ettore." He doesn't know what your begging for but stares at your face in pride as it's screwed with pleasure. He knows no one else could make you feel this way and it only inflates his ego more.

"Does it feel good baby?" He reaches back for the vibrator and brings it down onto your clit again. At this point, tears have formed in your eyes from how fucking good this all feels.

"It's always so good." You whimper arching your hips so he slides in deeper. He can feel your pussy spazzing around him. "Fuck fuck fuck." You draw in a short breath as another orgasm washes over you. You feel heavy and spent as Ettore removes the vibrator and comes up and kisses your neck and chest.

"One more. You can give me one more." He reaches over on your nightstand and grabs the key for the handcuffs. He unlocks the cuffs and turns you over so you're lying on top of him. "Please. Please ride me." Despite how tired your body feels from the three orgasms he has drawn out from you, you sit up and look down at him.

You lift your hips slightly and reach in between you two grabbing his cock. Ettore moans as your hands wrap around him while you line yourself up. His moan only gets louder as you sink down fully on his length.

He holds on to your tits as you bounce up and down his cock rolling both nipples in between his fingers. You do your best to set a pace you know will have him cumming in a minute but you're still so tired. Ettore notices and places both hands on your hips lifting you up and down and helping you to fuck yourself on his cock.

"Fuck!" He throws his head back as he feels the tip of his cock hit your cervix. "I love you so much." The words were out of his mouth before he could control them. And though you're not sure if he means them or if they hold the same meaning for you as they do him but it only fuels you more.

You meet his thrusts and feel him throbbing inside of you. His face is screwed in what looks more like pain than pleasure as he begs you to make him cum.

"I can't cum if you don't. Please." He circles your clit once more and tells you how much he needs it. How much he needs to feel you cumming around him, how that will tell him you love him too.

You finally do cum and fall against his chest as he keeps holding on to your hips fucking up into you, his balls slapping against your ass and the vulgar noises of your bodies connecting filling your ears before he pushes you down as far as he can forcing you there. You feel him cum deep inside you moaning loudly as 'thank you' flows repeatedly from his lips like a prayer.

He eases up slightly as he rolls over and pins you down not taking himself out of you. Your breathing evens out as he kisses you gently. A drastic contrast to how ruthlessly he just fucked you.

"I meant it. Every word." Your heart flutters at his confession. He kisses you deeply.

He knows he can't let you go. But he also knows you won't stay without that confession. Even if it was hard for him to say it he was glad he did.

You both lay there wrapped in each other's embraces. Scared but excited to see where this will take you.

Nothing could go wrong now...

....Right?

A/N: Hope you guys enjoyed this! I still have an ideal 2 additional chapters planned out. The next one is shorter but still good!

Gen Taglist: @valeskafics @thought--bubble @dixie-elocin

"Fuck Love" Taglist: @hi-eleonora @scarletbedlam @fan-goddess @qyburnsghost

[tiredmamaissy]

hey 👋

i think this is the longest i've been gone. i missed you all a lot. i've been writing this entire time, and wanted to finish the last (for now, it’s definitely not completed) two chapters of the ralak series before officially coming back. i didn't want to come back without some sort of peace offering (lol how could i come back empty handed?) and i don’t want to leave you guys hanging again, gotta give some sort of closure to this series!

i'm almost finished, but i felt like i needed to come on here and explain myself.

i've been really struggling with my mental lately. it's just been pretty bad, to be frank. and when i get like this, i find it extremely difficult to juggle all that life entails, and will typically neglect certain aspects of it just to get by. unfortunately, this, and my social life, have taken the biggest hit. i find it hard to keep in touch regularly with friends, and i end up just retreating into my shell. motivation becomes little, or nothing at all.

i don't want to go into too much detail, but i've found myself between a rock and a hard place. i don't feel like i have many options in my current situation. i feel trapped. i suppose i've felt this way for the past few years, but it's just been pretty bad recently. issy has been an escape for me. i created a ‘new’ identity, one that i could unapologetically be myself. no face to the name type of thing. i fell in love with pandora, yearning to go there. and suddenly, my ideal world--my ideal everything was at my fingertips.

when i first started, the feeling of regaining my identity after so many years was exhilarating. i put many, many things on the back burner to immerse myself into this feeling and this world. quicker meals, shorter showers, later bedtimes. i did any and everything to dedicate as much time as i could muster up to hold onto this new identity. i could feel myself becoming happier, slipping back into who i was before i lost her.

but life just happens. you know? it continued, and it did so ten-fold. it was one thing after the next, and soon my plate was so full that i had to take something off of it. i guess i'm used to choosing myself to neglect first, so i told myself i'd put this off until i could get through this and then come back. so i did, and i came back. then life happened again. so i left, and came back.

but this time around life hit me hard. i felt like i was playing a game on the hardest difficulty, with a half a life, no pauses, and no way to exit safely. i'm still playing that game, but i've realised that i should really try to make the most of it. so i've been writing in what time i have. it's been one of my biggest escapes and it makes me happy that i can share it, and see that others enjoy what my silly brain comes up with.

i'm ready to come back, but i'm honestly still really overwhelmed with life. i really, really don't want to disappoint anyone…and i can't promise that i won't leave again anytime soon. i never want to leave. and honestly, i don't think i'll ever really leave for good. i will forever love avatar, and all that it’s done for me for the past 14 years. i guess i’m just trying to say… thank you all for your patience and love.

okidoki, let me stop here while i can lol.

ill be posting the chapters as soon as i'm done with them, ofc. i love you guys!! i’m heading to bed and will try to clear out my inbox and dm’s asap

-issy 💜

[glossdebut]

Take a Bite Ch. 3

✧ PAIRING: yoongi x fem!reader

✧ SUMMARY: Your fledgling career as a music journalist is finally going in some kind of direction that must be on the path to success. Your coworkers like you enough to invite you out on Fridays, your boss is starting to think you’re competent enough to let you score a few bylines, and you're finally getting the hang of InDesign. All of your hard work, late nights, and complete lack of a social life are starting to pay off... Even if it all came at the expense of the longest relationship of your life. Fine. You've accepted the fact that romance isn't for you, under any circumstances. You won't risk your career for anybody. Not even Min Yoongi.

✧ TAGS: slow burn, eventual smut, eventual romance, producer yoongi, music journalist reader, neighbors to friends to lovers? you'll see, reader is bad at feelings, reader is post-break up

✧ WARNINGS: yoongi being RICH. also... remember that eventual smut? well it's kind of here! if you wanna skip, stop reading at [Maybe you should fix that.] and then continue at [After another moment, you roll over onto your stomach...]

✧ WORDCOUNT: 3.5k

✧ STATUS: complete

✧ AUTHOR'S NOTE: hi i normally post on wednesdays but we're about to get a HURRICANE where i'm at so i'm posting early lmfao. rating goes up in this chapter whoops! not sure when chapter 4 will be posted but i'll keep you guys updated. thank you all so much for the engagement i've been receiving on this fic!!! it's my first one ever and i never expected to get so many readers so quickly <3 you guys are keeping me writing so please feel free to send me feedback if you like this chapter. i'd love to read it if i have power over the next few days LOL

Chapter 3: I Wanna Fold Clothes For You

So, you and Yoongi are friends.

Of course, seeing him three times within twenty four hours was a fluke, and over the next six days you don’t see him once, not even in passing in your shared hallway. You’re not privy to his work hours, but you know based on what little he’s told you that working as a producer demands more than the normal nine to five, as does your job.

Still, there’s something about coming home every night and knowing that you have a friend right down the hall, if you need one. You haven’t had that in a long time, and you feel so much lighter now that you do have it. 

There is, of course, an upside to not being able to see Yoongi often. Given that you’ve only just met him, you don’t have his appearance committed to memory quite yet, and mercifully, you’re beginning to forget why you were so viscerally attracted to him in the first place. 

You reason that it must’ve been the alcohol. You were getting drunk when you met him, stupidly drunk when you discovered that you’re neighbors, hungover when you shared a tangerine, and drinking from a bottomless glass of wine (courtesy of Seokjin) when you drooled over his hands for a solid ten minutes. You have yet to interact with Yoongi clear-headed and lucid. Not to mention you’re just a little bit… pent up, recently. Drunk and horny Y/N had the wheel. That has to be it. Nobody is that hot. You’re sure of that. Men ain’t special!

So you go through your week business as usual, but with a slight spring in your step, and it’s lovely. You even venture way further away from the office for your lunch hour on Friday than you normally would to go to a restaurant you’ve been dying to try. You’re usually so tied to the office that the furthest you tend to go is the convenience store down the street for the instant stuff.

And then, since the universe demands correction (or overcorrection where you’re concerned), all of the floaty goodness comes to a screeching halt when you get in your car to head back to the office. Your car which, in the past hour you’ve been blissfully stuffing your face with tteokbokki, has decided it has done its job and is ready to retire.

It just straight up won’t start.

Sitting in the parking lot of the restaurant, you go into crisis management mode.

You’re thankfully not completely clueless where cars are concerned. It comes with the territory of owning a beater. You keep up with your oil changes, you don’t leave the lights on when you get home late. You replaced your battery semi-recently, so that shouldn’t be it. Unfortunately, you don’t have much time to troubleshoot. You need to get back to work. Okay… Damage control, then.

The most obvious solution is to call one of your coworkers to come and rescue you, but your coworkers are just as notorious for being tethered within a one mile radius of the office as you are, so that would more than likely end up being a waste of time. You could find the nearest bus stop, but who knows how long public transportation could take right now? Too unpredictable. You could call your boss and tell him that you’re not going to be back to the office anytime soon (or at all today) and get your car towed and repaired. But then you would suddenly have a reputation of being unreliable, because god forbid you have a human moment. That’s straight up not an option. You’ve been doing so good this week.

You’re sure there are other options. But isn’t this what friends are for?

He answers on the fifth ring, but he answers.

“Y/N?” 

“Yoongi.” You feel your shoulders slump in relief. You try your best not to sound as panicked as you feel. “Are you busy?”

“Um. I’m at the studio,” he says, confusion in his voice. “But I have a minute. Is everything okay?” Confusion and concern? That’s nice.

“Everything’s fine!” you blurt out. “Okay, maybe not. My car won’t start! I don’t know why, but it won’t, and I need to get back to work, but you’re at work, too! I don’t even know where you work, but I doubt it’s anywhere near where I am, and even if it is, I don’t want to tear you away from anything important—”

“Y/N.”

“—I know you said you had a minute, but I really don’t want to fuck up your flow. That’s a term, right? You’re a producer, you… flow. Anyway, I just don’t really know anyone here and I didn’t know who to call, and if I don’t get back to work soon my boss is going to kill me—”

“Y/N,” he says, more firmly. Your mouth snaps shut. “Where are you?”

“In my car,” you say dumbly, frazzled.

Yoongi sighs. “Send me your location.”

“For what?”

“I’m gonna send a car to come get you and drive you to your office,” he says, and he sounds just the slightest bit exasperated about needing to explain that to you.

Send a car? What the fuck? You have so many questions, such as: how fucking loaded is the guy who lives two doors down from you in your very shitty apartment building? What label does he even work for? How famous of a producer is he to be able to send a car to you? But your immediate instinct to turn down his help wins out over asking any of them.

“What? Yoongi, no, that’s too much,” you complain. “Don’t do that. I just freaked out a little bit, I can–”

“Y/N,” he interrupts. If you’re not mistaken, it sounds a bit like he’s trying not to laugh at you. Fucker. “Location.”

So you send him your location. What other option do you have?

“You’re not far,” Yoongi says once he receives your text. A few moments pass, and then: “Car will be there in ten.”

“Thank you,” you say. You feel nauseous, like maybe you’re going to cry, but there’s also a good amount of relief there, too. “I’ll make it up to you.”

“No need,” he says. “I’d come get you myself, but I really can’t get away right now.”

“Still, there’s a comically large bottle of an alcohol of your choosing in your future. Seriously, thank you.”

His responding laugh is enough to settle your stomach just a little. “Seriously, you don’t need to pay me back…” A pause. “But for the record, I like whiskey.”

You wrinkle your nose even though he can’t see it. “Gross.”

“Don’t be a hater.”

“As long as you don’t make me drink it with you, I’ll keep my comments to myself,” you say, finding yourself smiling.

“Oh, you think I share?” Yoongi teases back. He sighs again. “I really have to go.”

“Go, go,” you say. “Thanks for saving me. Even if it’s by proxy.”

“You can always call me if you need shit like this,” he says. You can tell that he means it. “I’m glad you called me. Means I’m doing something right.”

“You are,” you say, your voice soft. Your cheeks feel warm. Probably because you’re sitting in a dead car. “Thanks.”

Yoongi hums in response. “Text me when you get back to the office safe, okay?”

“I will. Bye, Yoongi.”

And that’s that.

★ ★ ★

True to your word, you text Yoongi when the stupidly luxurious car he ordered for you drops you off at your office, only ten minutes later than you’re due back from your lunch break. You’re able to slip in without anyone noticing that you’re late at all, which is great. Crisis partially averted.

He sends back a thumbs up emoji, and then decides to drop the bomb that he intends to pay for your car to be towed.

[1:21] You: YOONGI NO

[1:21] You: you can’t do that!!!!

[1:24] Yoongi: 100% I can and will as soon as I get ten minutes to make a phone call to sort it out.

The audacity of this man.

[1:25] You: seriously i cannot ask you to do that

[1:25] You: i was just going to take the bus back to the restaurant after work and deal with it from there. i’m actively researching towing companies and repair places on company time as we speak

[1:30] Yoongi: You’re not asking me. You’ve got enough to worry about. Let me take care of it. I know the places.

[1:31] You: still, i can’t let you spend money like that on me. i don’t even wanna think about what that car cost you

[1:31] Yoongi: If it helps you sleep at night you can pay me back on your own time. You definitely don’t have to though.

[1:32] Yoongi: That reminds me. You can use that car until yours is taken care of if you need to. I’ll send you the driver’s contact. Don’t take the bus.

You feel like you’re going insane.

[1:33] You: do you have a grammy or something? what do you DO to be able to afford shit like this? why do you live in our building? are you a drug dealer?

[1:37] Yoongi: :]

Of course, he gives you no clues about what exactly he does, but after a bit more back-and-forth, you finally give in and let Yoongi handle everything under the condition that you’re going to pay him back. He doesn’t seem all that worried about it, which infuriates you just a little.

You go through the rest of your day like normal, if not a tad twitchy. Come quitting time, you take advantage of having a driver at your disposal and have him stop a liquor store on your way home.

As you take the elevator up to your floor, comically large whiskey bottle (as promised) in tow, you text Yoongi and ask if he’s home yet. At his responding ‘No, why?’ you cackle to yourself and pocket your phone. The elevator doors slide open. You were hoping that would be the case. 

You clocked out at a semi-normal time tonight, a gift to yourself to cope with the stress of the day, and so you take great pleasure in setting the bottle down on Yoongi’s very tasteful cat doormat, flipping it off right back on your way into your own apartment.

You silently pray to whatever god may be listening that the whiskey isn’t swiped by someone before Yoongi gets home. Your cat, Pepper, is blinking at you lazily on the kitchen counter, and you give her a triumphant little scratch on the head before padding to your bedroom to deal with your laundry.

Your move, Min Yoongi.

★ ★ ★

“Do I need to be jealous?”

You take advantage of getting off work early to call your best friend Rina for the first time in what feels like forever. She’s in Paris this month, debuting a play that she’s been working on tirelessly about aliens and drug addiction. You’ve read the script six times over. It’s both campy and gut wrenching all at once, and you’ve cried every time. You picture her with her very chic haircut, sipping from a flute of champagne. The thought of her being jealous of any part of your life is laughable. 

“What do you have to be jealous of, exactly?” you snort, holding your phone between your ear and shoulder as you toss your laundry basket upside down on your bed unceremoniously. Your clothes are covered in a perma-layer of Pepper hair, and you think it’s lucky that Pepper is a black cat and most of your clothes are black. Very enviable.

“Of Yoongi, dipshit,” she coos through the phone. “You’re replacing me.”

“Sure,” you say, like she’s making total sense. You’re lying on top of your laundry now instead of folding it. You put her on speakerphone and rest your phone on your chest. “I’m throwing away ten years of being your best friend for a guy that I met a week ago. I’m glad you figured it out, honestly, because I was dreading telling you. I was going to wait until your matinée, but you don’t seem too broken up about it.”

“Of course. You have to do what’s right for you, I’ve always told you that,” she deadpans back, and you groan. You don’t want to hear it. “No, I just mean… It’s good. That you’re meeting people.”

“We’re neighbors,” you say, flopping over onto your front to rub at your temples. Rina is resting on a pile of your underwear now. “We talk about work. My work, not his, because he thinks it’s funny to act like he’s too cool to tell me about his job. He’s helping me with my car. We’re… neighborly.”

“And you want to fuck him,” she says. Maybe calling Rina was a bad idea. Debriefing over text would have sufficed.

“I don’t want to fuck him,” you say, indignant. “We’re friends. He’s nice. I can have a guy friend.”

“Of course you can,” Rina says, like you’re dumb for even thinking she would imply otherwise. “And you can be friends with him all you want. But you also want to fuck him.”

You groan in protest but she speaks over it.

“Baby, you can pretend, but I know how you talk about people you want to have sex with, even if you don’t say it outright,” she continues. “He may just be feeding you and helping you and talking to you about the weather, but I know you, and I know the whole time he’s talking you’re just agonizing over how he might fuck you if you let him.”

“That’s not fair,” you mumble, letting your face drop into your laundry. It smells good. Small comforts.

“Are you going to let him?”

“No,” you whine, muffled by the cotton. “I don’t need that. There are always strings. I hate strings.”

“You said he’s a super straightforward, honest guy, right?” Rina asks.

“Brutally so,” you grumble.

“So. Maybe he’d be cool with a lack of strings. You won’t know unless you ask, baby.”

You want to tell her that’s easy for her to say, but you don’t want to fight with her when you know you won’t hear from her like this again for a while. 

Rina has never compromised for anything. She decided in both of your sophomore year of college, after flirting with both performance and directing, that she wanted to be a playwright, and that was that. 

She wrote and wrote and wrote, and after you graduated together, her career blossomed almost instantly because she worked goddamn hard for it. She got opportunities to travel and work with theatre companies around the world, and she took them without giving it a second thought because she knew it was what she wanted. And she’s had a consistent, loyal boyfriend nearly the whole time. He doesn’t always travel with her, but he supports her in everything she does. They’re excruciatingly healthy about it. 

When your long-term college boyfriend dumped you unceremoniously two months into your first reporter gig because he felt he came second to your career, Rina was there for you. But you resented her a little bit. There was no way she could understand any of it. 

Still, as much as you hate to admit it, she has a point. You could just ask Yoongi if he wants to fool around without it being a thing, and you know he’d give you a straight answer. You’re even pretty confident he wouldn’t make it weird if his answer was no. That’s not the problem. It never is.

“The problem isn’t whether or not I think he’d be cool with it,” you mumble. “The problem is if he is cool with it, and then the strings come anyway. The friendship is nice. I’m attracted to him, yeah, fine. But I can ignore it if it means I get to be his friend.”

Theres a long pause on the line, and then Rina sighs.

“Your life would be a lot easier if you could do one night stands,” she says.

Don’t you know it. 

“Yeah.”

“I’ve gotta go, okay? Text me. Keep me updated on life.” You read between the lines. On Yoongi, she means. “I love you.”

“Mmmhh,” you mumble back, still burying your face into your laundry. 

When the line disconnects, you feel considerably more twitchy and irritable than you did before talking to Rina.

So, you’re attracted to Yoongi. Or you were, when you were drunk and he was all… hot and considerate. That doesn’t mean you have to act on it! You’re not going to act on it. You’re just pent up, that’s all. It’s been a long time since you’ve had an orgasm, self-inflicted or otherwise, and you can’t think straight.

Maybe you should fix that.

It’s clear you’re giving up on laundry for the night, so you shove the mountain of clothes back into the basket on the floor, sighing as you lay back on your bed.

You feel only slightly ridiculous as you shimmy your sleep shorts down your thighs, your hands sliding up your shirt to cup your breasts, squeezing slightly. Warming yourself up.

You quickly decide to get to the point, though. You’re struggling to immerse yourself in the fantasy that usually does the trick, too wound up and embarrassed (as if it’s not you in here by yourself, as usual) at groping yourself.

Despite the embarrassment, it becomes abundantly clear that you didn’t really need to warm yourself up anyway. Your fingers slide through your folds with ease, drenched like you’ve been that way all fucking day, unbeknownst to you, and a surprised moan falls from your lips. Fuck.

Closing your eyes, you circle two fingers around your clit experimentally, making your hips jerk up under you, sensitive. You do it again, a little firmer, starting a slow rhythm that makes you squirm against your mattress, your bottom lip rolling between your teeth.

It feels good. It usually does—you’ve always been able to make quick work of an orgasm to rid yourself of any lingering jitters before bed. But it feels really good right now, your pussy extra sensitive tonight, and you can’t figure out why. There’s nothing new about what you’re doing.

Rina’s words worm their way into your brain uninvited—the whole time he’s talking you’re just agonizing over how he might fuck you if you let him—and you’re too turned on to stop that train of thought, flashes of capable hands and pink tongue (tonguetechnologytonguetechnologytonguetechnology) filling your mind, and you’re moaning softly despite yourself as you rub your clit a little faster.

You continue to make soft noises of pleasure, your tongue darting out to wet your lips, dry from panting as the barrage of Yoongi-related thoughts keep coming, bringing you closer and closer to your release. 

Dark, dark eyes looking down at you. A delicate chain dangling above your face. You whimper, your fingers sliding down from your clit to sink into your pussy, curling up to rub at your inner walls. A thick cock sliding into you, filling you so deliciously.

You pump your fingers fast and desperate as you get closer and closer to that sweet edge. You wonder what Yoongi would sound like if he was the one fucking into you right now. Would he moan in your ear in that gravelly voice of his? He’s a man of few words. Would he be like that in bed, too? Would he call you sweet names? Not so sweet? Which ones?

Your walls flutter around your fingers, your hips stuttering up off the mattress as your orgasm crashes over you and you gasp out a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding.

You stare up at the ceiling for a minute panting. The high of your release buzzes pleasantly through your body before it starts ebbing away, but the thoughts of Yoongi pervade. Well, fuck.

After another moment, you roll over onto your stomach to grab a towel from your laundry basket and wipe off your fingers, tossing it on the floor. You grab your phone, only to be greeted by a notification from the subject of your masturbation fantasy himself. He sent it about ten minutes ago.

When you tap it open, you’re greeted with a photo (!!!) of Yoongi holding your gift next to his head, the hand wrapped around the neck of the whiskey bottle almost dwarfed by its sheer size. A testament to the ridiculousness of it, because you’re well aware of how long Yoongi’s fingers are. There’s a lazy smirk on his face, and a mole that you’re just now noticing on his right cheek.

[8:23] Yoongi: Cute. 

Yep. Yep. Cool.

You swipe out, tapping on Rina’s contact.

[8:35] You: okay. i want to fuck him. 

[8:35] Rina: 🥂🥳🎉

Shit.

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[kyber-crystal]

scarlet ibis (songbird) || anakin skywalker

summary: they say the purest love takes the longest time, and your story is nothing short of that. there’s fragility within beauty and to him, you’re a mosaic of stained glass (alt title: 5 times you call anakin skywalker by his last name, and 1 time you finally call him by his first.)

words: ~3.2k

warnings: angst, mild violence, mentions of blood + death (but no major character death dw), two oblivious idiots in love

a/n: 2nd place fic from my mini poll! not my best work LOL, but i think this is one of my favorite fics i've written (so far). i've had this in drafts for about a year or so as well...

one

It was safe to say that even a nanosecond of interacting with Anakin Skywalker made your blood boil. 

He knew just how to push all your buttons and you hated it. How could one person exist for seemingly one purpose only—to piss you off—you didn’t understand it and weren’t sure if you ever would. “Loyal Jedi” my ass. 

If you were the first person to speak up during meetings, he was also the first to counter your points and shoot you down. If you were late to meals in the mess hall, he took the last roll of bread, so you’d have to wait an extra half hour for more to come out. If you were dueling together, he would always point out every microscopic flaw in your technique. You were sure that your head would explode at any moment by his existence alone.

This is so ridiculous—you’re ridiculous.

“You know I can hear you, right?” Anakin glanced at you in his peripheral vision. “Don’t be mad because my plan worked, and yours didn’t. There’s this thing called accepting defeat.”

“Just because I don’t do things the way you do doesn’t mean they’re wrong.”

“They’re not wrong, but they’re not safe. You can’t declare safety compromisation a success. There’s a clear difference between the two.”

You scoffed. “Since when did you, out of all people, account for safety?”

“I should be asking you the same thing.”

“You’re not answering my question.”

“And you’re not answering mine, either.” He reaches behind his ear and turns his comms on. “Now are we going to head home or what?” 

“Aye aye, General,” you responded sarcastically, rolling your eyes. “Let’s embark on the journey of a lifetime.” 

Awkward silence pierces the air like a dozen tiny needles, but you’ll take it over arguing with a wall any day. You knew what you were fighting for and why. You were confident in your actions and believed you always stood on the right side. 

Except, he didn’t. 

It was a quick two day recon and you got the job done in half the allotted time. In and out faster than you could blink. Of course, Anakin would find fault in that one way or another…and he did. You got caught as you were escaping…dragging the mission duration out by an extra day.

Granted, you were only delayed by a few hours, but it was enough to upset him. You couldn’t even feel the ropes digging into your wrists after hour two, anyway. But from the moment he broke in and saw the first speck of blood on you, a look of fury flashed across his eyes. I’d be surprised if he had even half a heart under all that thick skin, you grumbled to yourself. He’ll slice at anything that moves. 

“You know—” Anakin’s voice breaks through the tension-filled air. He wants to say something else, but the words get stuck in the back of his throat and his tongue goes numb.

“I don’t care.” You pick at your scabbing wounds, not caring that they’re starting to sting and peel all over again. Before he can catch you doing so, you tug your sleeves over them and grit your teeth. “We got the job done, Skywalker, that’s all that matters.”

two

Maybe it was time to stop trying to commit mass murder on the punching bags. They weren’t going to do anything except break after two minutes of merciless attacks. 

Hopefully…you wouldn’t get in trouble for the glass vase that happened to get in your path. Nobody ever bothered to wander to the west wing of the Temple often enough to notice, anyway.

As you clenched and unclenched your fists, the cracks in your knuckles slowly started to stretch out like thin, red spiderwebs. The dots of brilliant ruby seemed to glitter among the pristine flooring—almost like they were meant to be there from the start. 

With every shard you threw away, the cracks and fury dug themselves further into your skin, threatening to explode.

You didn’t even need to look up afterward to know his scalding gaze was on you again.  

“Are you trying to get an infection?”

“Fuck off.”

He ignored your biting reply and kneeled down to clean up the mess. Once he was done, he stood back up and grabbed you by the wrist, leading you down the hall to his quarters.

As soon as he sat you down at the edge of his bed, you shot him a death glare. “What in Force’s name is your problem?”

“My problem,” Anakin replied, “is that you’re about to bleed all over the place. Let me help.”

“I don’t need fixing, Skywalker,” you snapped. “It’s just a cut.”

Anakin raised a brow at you, then looked down at your hands. “Too bad, I think you do. Broken glass will buryinto places you don’t expect.”

“Then you’re severely underestimating what I’m capable of. So let me go,” you snapped, jerking your wrist out of his grip. You unfortunately did this too fast, and hissed in pain as a result. “I’m fine.”

Sighing, the young Jedi reaches for the bacta pads next to him and works carefully to patch you up. He pretends not to notice the tears welling up in the corners of your eyes. Or the way you pick at the skin by your thumb, or the way your left foot taps the floor in a nervous rhythm. He pretends not to notice everything you do, but you’re everywhere. It frustrates him because he can’t escape. 

“Why do I have a feeling that exterminating the centuries-old vase of magic and splendor wasn’t in your original plan?”

“I was,” your voice wavers, fingers twitching. He notices this, too. “Leave me be.”

Shadows of the late afternoon light dance across the bridge of your nose, and he lets himself stare for a bit longer than normal. And…being who you two are, neither of you realize the fact.  

“You can go now, if you want,” he finally says after the sun begins descending into the horizon. “But make sure not to overexert yourself again.”

You don’t move. You stay there; quietly sitting in the middle of his room with glistening cheeks. Anakin doesn’t bother asking you to leave a second time. 

A fallen angel trapped in an endless prison; a halo and fractured wings that rendered her unable to fly. And yet, amidst all that death and despair, nothing could mar her beauty.

He feels those same little spiderwebs running through his palms, and he feels them shorten. Just a little bit.

three

The halls of the Temple were eerily quiet early in the morning. You would expect more Jedi to be up before the sun rose, but today, all activity had seemed to stop. Gathering the ends of your cloak into your arms, you made a careful climb up onto the rooftops to watch the sunrise. 

It seemed like you weren’t the only one who had this in mind, though.

“The hell are you doing at this hour?” 

“I could ask you the same exact thing,” Anakin replied as he stood up and turned around to face you. “You’re going to fall.” 

“I’m fine, don’t—” You let out a small squeak as you lose your footing and slip. Luckily, though, he catches you in time by wrapping an arm around your waist and holding on tight. Fire shoots through your veins at the feeling of him pressed up against you. “Let go of me, Skywalker!”

Once he leads you to where you can get more stable footing, he lets you go. But even then, there’s a hand that hovers over the small of your back. 

Brilliant bursts of sunlight stream over the horizon and wash over the world in pale red and pink. It stops you from saying something snarky to Anakin because you’re speechless at the breathtaking sight above. 

“I have…something for you,” he clears his throat. “—And don’t hit me. I’m not trying to poison you.” 

“Okay…?”

He reaches into his cloak pocket and pulls out what appears to be jewelry of some kind. 

“How many innocent beings did you kill to get this? Please don’t tell me it was smuggled. Or that you robbed someone for it. I can’t keep something like that.” 

“Y/N.” 

“What?”

“Do you…like it?”

You paused and took one good look at the necklace in his hand. It had to be the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen in all twenty years of living, and even that was an understatement. A teardrop-shaped, deep vermillion stone encased by tiny, glittering jewels—it was as if he had captured the stormclouds himself. It was perfect—too perfect, almost. 

Your voice came out in a whisper. “It’s so pretty.”

He takes a careful step to stand behind you in response. His fingers brush against your neck as he puts the necklace on, and fireworks explode behind your eyes.

Without another word, you turn towards him and rest your chin on his shoulder. He pulls you closer, and your heart feels a little fuller than before. 

four

The warzone was an ugly place. 

If hell was a real thing, this had to be it. The sky is bleeding red and each burst of lightning splits it further apart, the smell of death swirling around with the debris. Battle droids push forward in a stampede and you try your best to ignore the sickening crunch of bone beneath their metal feet. You squeeze your eyes shut as you tighten your hold around your lightsaber and pray to every god out there in the universe because war was cruel and mean and you just wanted to go home and sleep forever because anything, absolutely anything, was better than the suffering you were having to endure now. 

When the shot originally meant for Anakin hits you in the side, you’re unable to fully comprehend the pain because your brain won’t let you. You force yourself to keep going. Pain was temporary…you’d deal with the aftermath later. You could afford to.

What feels like hours passes by and the gunfire doesn’t stop. The incessant ringing in your ears is something you’ve forced yourself to grow accustomed to. 

“Y/N!” Anakin’s voice manages to cut through the howling winds. “You need to—”

He doesn’t get to finish his sentence before a grenade detonates near you and throws you against the walls. A searing pain shoots through your body at the impact and the world tilts on its axis. Scarlet seeps into your tear-stained vision and suddenly, the whole world is drenched in blood.

This was it…

If you were going to die now, it would be as far from pretty as you could possibly get. 

It’s another slow few minutes before he finally finds you slumped against the stone. Somehow, you manage to shoot him a small smile before wincing. “Took you long enough to get here.” 

“You…”

“Oh, wow, I’ve been shot,” you let out a dry laugh, pressing a hand over your wound. The color immediately drained from his face as he saw blood seeping through your fingers. “That’s a whole lot of red.”

He crouches down next to you to assess your state, pressing the commlink in his ear as he does so. “Why is it that you’re always getting hurt?” 

“My middle name is Trouble, that’s why.” You cough, and more red drips down your lips. “Trouble follows me around wherever I go.”

“It’s not fair,” Anakin mumbled under his breath, applying pressure to your torso as you wince again. “I’m supposed to be jumping in front of bullets for you and getting close to being blown up, not the other way around.” 

“I decided that your massive ego needed a little break so I took the workload for you,” you snarked. “Happy now, Skywalker?”

For the first time ever, he doesn’t bite back with an equally sarcastic response. You don’t question it. “No. I’m not.”

The returning journey's dead silent, save for your labored breathing due to your cracked ribs. You try to sit up, but he places a firm hand on your shoulder to keep you from moving. 

“I told you I’m fine—”

“You need to rest,” he exhales, the distress and tiredness evident in his eyes. “Please.”

“Okay…”

Wordlessly, Anakin reaches over to cup his hands over yours and and brings them to his lips. A pleasant sense of warmth overtakes you and you can almost pretend like the ship’s heater isn't broken and you’re melting, little by little. And if you look closer, you can see clusters of galaxies and shooting stars behind his steel blue eyes. The thought alone comforts you and starts to lull you to sleep. 

His eyes shift to the necklace; the gemstone sits still against your sternum as your chest rises and falls. Beauty among chaos. He wonders every day how such stark differences can coexist in a peaceful manner. 

“For what it’s worth,” he murmurs long after you’ve drifted off, “I never really hated you.”

five

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

You placed your hands on your hips as you observed the pitiful scene before you. The Jedi Order could host extravagant events and use expensive artillery and clones, but wouldn’t account for comfortable sleeping accommodations. Making a mental note to politely complain to Master Windu, you let out a long sigh. 

“If I stretch out, I’ll fall off,” Anakin pointed out as he too stared at the small queen bed (you were sure it was a twin, though). 

“I’d fall off, too.”

“You know what…I’ll take the floor. I don’t want to hear you complaining about back pain in the morning.” 

He was about to take his pillow and toss it to the floor before you grabbed his wrist. “Are you nuts? I can’t let you do that.”

“Then what do you want me to do?” 

You rolled your eyes. “I don’t know, share the bed without kicking me in the middle of the night?”

Both of you stopped and stared at each other at this. 

“The audacity you have to say that when you’re the kicker…” Anakin began. 

“I’m using the bathroom first.” You pushed past him to go wash up. “Don’t be a bed hog, Skywalker.”

Minutes later, you’re both settled in under the covers and have fallen into a comfortable silence. The only things you can hear are the crickets chirping outside and Anakin’s steady breathing. If you ignored the fact that you were on a mission and crammed into an incredibly tiny motel room, you could imagine that this was a peaceful weekend getaway to some tropical planet. 

You’re the first one to break the silence and speak up. “Do you wonder when the war will end? Or if it’ll end at all?”

“All the time.” He rolls over on his side to face you. “And what I’d do afterwards.”

“Where would you go?”

Anakin hums for a moment before responding. “I don’t know. You?”

“I’d go back to Naboo. To the lakes, where the water is so clear you can see your future, and the roses are redder than your face under the summer sun. Padme would take me there all the time when we were younger.” 

“I think I’d follow you, then.”

“But there’s sand, and lots of it,” you laughed. “Are you sure?”

“I’d be willing to bear its coarse, rough, and irritating qualities for you. Only once, though. I have my limits.”

Your heart warms at the mini confession. “I wish we could just end everything now. Call off the troops, sign a few treaties or something…end the war. I’m tired of the violence and bloodshed. I know everyone else is too.”

“I know.”

Anakin’s hand finds its way into yours, and the tension in your shoulders slowly unravels as your fingers lace with his. 

And all the cracked and bleeding crevices on your skin start healing the longer you lean into his touch. It’s like he has a needle and spool of thread in hand, and he’s slowly but surely stitching you back together. 

plus one

The giant metropolis of Coruscant had gone quiet under blankets of snow—it was a sight unlike any other. You hadn’t seen a speck of snow hit since you stepped foot onto the Jedi Temple as a child. 

You stood alone in the hangar bay with bated breath and reddened, frostbitten fingers. Like you’d dipped them in blood before letting them dry for a bit.. He had to be here any minute now; you didn’t want him to return and not have anyone to welcome him back. So despite the subzero temperatures and barely-healing knuckles, you remained in place. 

When his ship touches down and he hops out with a wide smile, you can feel a giant weight being lifted off your chest. He jogs toward you and brings you in for a crushing embrace, and for once, you finally feel at home. 

“It’s freezing. What are you doing here?” He’s sweating, even though he looks like he should be cold. “You should’ve headed inside.”

“I waited for you, what else would I be doing?”

Anakin grins again and hugs you even tighter. “I missed you. More than anything.” 

Your heart suddenly starts to ache at his admission and that’s when the realization kicks in. “I thought I lost you, Anakin. You could’ve died. I couldn’t sleep for three days after I lost your signal. And yet you’re standing here acting like it’s no big deal because at least you’re alive and in one piece.”

“Y/N…”

A chill runs down your spine and you know in that moment that it has nothing to do with the weather. You knew this wasn’t right; you weren’t supposed to be doing this, but it felt more natural than anything you’d ever done.

That’s when you find an Anakin-shaped shard of glass wedged deep in your heart and you don’t know how it found its way there, but you don’t even bother pulling it out. Glass splinters are supposed to be these jagged, disfigured things, but this one is beautiful and even shines amongst the rubble. It’ll bury its way into places you don’t expect. With the way he fits against your body, you can’t help but feel like he was meant to fill the gaping hole in your heart. So wholly, so perfectly without a single scratch or flaw. 

You look up at him and feel your breath get caught in your throat. Since when did he make you so nervous? 

He’s even closer now and so are you, so you press your mouth to his as if doing so would save you from falling apart. Your brain short-circuits, and as you sink into the sudden burst of warmth you realize you don’t want this to end.

“Took you long enough,” he mumbles against your skin as you pull apart. “I was starting to wonder when…”

“Shut up. Don’t ruin the moment,” you muttered before bringing your hand to his cheek and kissing him a second time. He doesn’t object and tightens his hold around you, and a fire spreads through you from head to toe. 

“I love you,” Anakin says after a while. “Even though you like sand, and I don’t.”

“I knew that already,” you joked with a smile and close your eyes, taking in a deep breath. “You’re not exactly the most subtle person ever.”

“Neither are you,” he chuckles.

“But I love you too.”

tags, including people who may be interested: @arkofblake @dameronology @fl0ating @voguesir @lady-elena-adeline @aliciaasky @katelynnwrites @freeshavocadoooo @buckysbeloved @kelieah @kaleidoscope1967eyes @lam-ila @unstablecaffeinatedmind @elenavampire21 @joyfullyswimmingface

add yourself to the general taglist/top gun specific taglist !

[notsoattractivearenti]

1+1 = 4 (Mason Mount x Fem!Reader)

WC: 3.0K

Warnings: mention of c-section, post-surgery recovery

A/N: i haven’t written anything since last month and i’ve missed writing so here it is... dad!Mason for me and y'all my loves 🥰🫶🏻 apologies if this isn’t so good lol tbh i wrote this for my own comfort cuz it's been an extremely rough few weeks so i kinda needed this and i’m a huge sucker for my faves as attentive partner and dad fics! not to mention this is officially the longest fic I've written + posted here! hope you guys enjoy and i’d love to hear your thoughts thru ask/reply/reblog 💗 apologies for any grammatical errors! feedbacks are highly appreciated 🤍

—

You just woke up from a short nap after your C-section. Your baby was not supposed to be born for another month, but when your doctor saw the umbilical cord was wrapped around their neck during ultrasound, they told you and Mason that an emergency C-section had to be done the next day before your baby moved to the birth position. You recalled the day it happened.

—

You were really scared and nervous even though you have given birth before – but your first pregnancy and labor went smoothly so you didn’t exactly anticipate this. Plus, you had never gone through any major surgery your whole life ­– you just were not ready at all. You wanted another vaginal delivery but since the circumstances changed, you didn’t have a choice and all you cared about was your little one coming into the world safe and sound.

Mason was scared too, but he tried to conceal it from you. He just knew he had to be by your side all the time, as you were about to go through another life-changing moment but not as you planned. He was worried about the baby but even more about you ­– he felt so helpless because he basically couldn’t do anything but be there for you. If he could, he would make himself be the one who bears the pain instead of you.

On the way home after the checkup, you sat in the passenger seat and just silently stared at the road with your hand resting on top of your belly – subconsciously rubbing it sometimes – while thinking about the sudden news. Mason noticed how quiet you were, and as he drove he grabbed your hand to hold it tight.

“My dear, everything will be okay,” he said softly, “little peanut will be just fine. So will you.”

You sighed. “Maybe you’re right, but Mase...” Your voice was shaky, “I’m terrified. I really am...”

He took his eyes off the road for a second to glance at you, then kissed your hand and rubbed it with his thumbs repeatedly.

“I know, Y/N. But you’re the strongest person I’ve ever known and you’re going to get through this like the badass you are.” He assured you.

“And I will be with you the entire time and take care of you. I promise.” He added.

You smiled a little, still nervous but way less than before. You knew he was also worried yet he still gave you the comfort you needed. That is one of the things about Mason that made you fall in love with him in the first place.

“Also, picture how excited Gem will be when she finds out she’s going to meet her baby sibling soon!”

Before Mason even finished his sentence, the possible scenario was already playing in your head. You looked back to the time you and Mason broke the news to Gemma, your 4 year-old daughter – she screamed then cried out of happiness. She has been so excited to have a little sister or brother since and kept asking when will the baby be born. You could clearly imagine how she would react this time.

“Oh God,” you put your hand on your forehead and jokingly groaned, “she’s going to scream her ass off again isn’t she?”

He shook his head playfully and laughed. “Well that’s my daughter alright!”

—

During the surgery, Mason was sitting next to you the whole time, not wanting to let go of your hand. You were fully conscious since you had regional anesthesia, and to distract yourself from your anxious thoughts you and Mason chatted about the most random things – and it helped calming you down.

You both decided not to find out about your baby’s sex just like when you were pregnant with Gemma. Of course you two were curious, but you wanted to surprise yourselves. A boy or a girl, it doesn't really matter because you will love the baby regardless of the sex.

Suddenly, you both heard the sound of your baby’s cry. The doctor lifted them up so you two could see and excitedly announced, “Congratulations, it’s a girl!”

You and Mason had your mouths wide open and looked at each other immediately once you knew you had another daughter. She came to join your little family sooner than expected, but she was healthy and all your worry was gone in an instant. Mason kissed your forehead and your lips, then whispered to your ears, “Thank you baby, I’m so proud of you.”

The nurse then brought the baby to you so you could see her up close. She put her next to your face, and you could feel tears of happiness streaming down your face – the presence of your newborn girl warmed your heart.

“Hi baby girl,” you tearfully greeted your daughter, “welcome to the world! Mommy loves you so much.”

Mason watched that moment and he was left speechless. He couldn’t stop smiling and crying as he couldn’t find the words to describe the overwhelming joy and immense love he felt at the moment. He was still processing the fact that he had another girl to love for the rest of his life. As he wiped his tears, he quietly whimpered in awe, “she’s so precious… My little peanut.”

—

As you woke up from your nap post surgery, you could feel the anesthesia started to wear off. You moaned and pressed your lips together over the pain you felt on the incision area. You couldn’t really get up because when you tried to move even a little bit, it would hurt so bad. You looked around the hospital room you were in and you saw Mason sitting on the sofa near the window while holding your newborn daughter.

He didn’t take his eyes off of her even for a second, you could tell he was so in love. This reminded you of the day when Gemma was just born – once he held her in his arms, his eyes were locked on her.

You couldn’t stop staring at him as you found this moment so heartwarming and adorable. He then took a quick look at you and when he saw you were awake, a wide smile appeared on his face.

“Oh look, Mommy’s awake,” he said as he got off the sofa to come over to you, “how are you feeling sweetheart?”

“Uh… pain...” You muttered. “But don’t worry, I’m okay.”

“Oh no… I’m sorry, Y/N.” He knitted his eyebrows, the tone of his voice showed how worried he really was. “Tell me what I can do to help ease it. I’ll do anything to make you feel better.”

You smiled as his hand was stroking your arm.

“Thank you love,” you said to Mason, “but let’s just wait for the nurse. With you two here with me right now I can handle this pain.”

“By the way… Can you stop hogging my baby and hand her over to her mom?” You jokingly asked him.

“Oops, sorry!” He laughed while gently putting her on your side.

—

Few hours later, the nurse suggested you get out of bed and try walking around for a bit. Even though you were still experiencing discomfort, you gladly took her suggestion as you didn’t like laying in the bed for too long. Mason, who wasn’t fond of the idea, expressed his concern to the nurse.

“Ma’am, are you sure it’s okay? The wound on my wife’s stomach is still fresh… Isn’t it too soon?”

“Sir, I get your concern and I can guarantee you it is necessary as it is a part of the recovery. Moving around after the surgery helps the recovery process. Don’t need to worry, we’ll check in on you every so often. If you need anything, you can call us by pushing the button next to the bed.” The nurse explained to both of you in a calm manner.

Mason sighed in relief and nodded.

“Thank you,” you said to the nurse, “this is my first time going through a C-section and my husband and I have been very anxious about it. Not to mention this was unplanned so we didn’t exactly come prepared.”

“Understandable. It is normal to feel nervous, Ma’am. We are happy to help.” The nurse acknowledged your worries.

As soon as the nurse left the room, you tried to get out of bed and grimaced while one of your hands was on your wound area. Mason was getting you a glass of water when he saw you – fright was written all over his face immediately.

“Baby!” He spontaneously yelled as he rushed over to your side and helped you. out.

“Ssshh, Mase, I’m alright,” you put your arm around his neck and tried to soothe him, “just want to get up, that's all.”

“Don’t be so stubborn!” He was shaking a little – he felt a genuine fear. “My God, Y/N, you almost gave me a heart attack.”

“Oh please, don’t be a drama queen,” you couldn’t help but make fun of his reaction. “I said I’m alright, hahaha!”

He playfully rolled his eyes in response. You laughed at him and suddenly felt stabbing pain on your wound.

“Ouch!” You shouted. “Man, I can't even laugh without feeling pain!”

“Well, I’m glad you were amused but I guess no more comedy for a while for you, Mrs. Mount.” he said as he stroked your back.

Mason gently supported your body and carefully assisted you on taking your first steps post surgery. You squeezed your eyes, ground your teeth and winced as you were still experiencing the sharp pain – especially when you moved. Mason’s heart ached seeing you struggling like this, he felt guilty even but he knew nothing else he could do but support you throughout the recovery.

“Don’t rush it, sweetheart. It hasn’t been 12 hours after the surgery,” he emphasized. “Just take one little step at the time when you’re ready, okay?”

—

“Baby, Gem is coming here with my parents!” He excitedly shouted from across the room.

Your eyes widened and a squeal left your mouth when you heard that Gemma was coming. As you were in the hospital, Mason’s parents were taking care of her. You have been looking forward to the moment when your girls finally met. She had been impatiently waiting to be able to hold her baby sibling – she even practiced with her doll all the time. 

At this point you could stand up, walk, and sit down. The incision still hurt and discomfort came and went all the time but the painkiller was working well and the bliss of having a newborn was able to distract your mind from the pain. Mason had been so attentive to you and always ready to help you. He thought you needed a day to rest, therefore with your permission he respectfully asked everyone – except your parents and siblings – not to pay a visit at the hospital and wait until you all settled at your home instead. 

“Where is Gem now? Is she close? Are they here already?” You eagerly asked.

“I don’t know,” he answered, “I’ll call my mum.”

And before he even pressed call, Debbie texted him to let him know they just arrived at the hospital. He was beaming when he saw the text, and passed the news to you.

“They’re here! I’ll go get them,” he said as he kissed your forehead and got out to pick them up.

Trying not to hurt yourself, you didn’t act too excited on the outside but you sure were within. Sitting down on your bed, you pulled the baby crib closer and carefully picked her up.

“Hey little angel,” you whispered softly into her tiny ear, “you’re about to meet your big sister. She’s been waiting for you… You’re going to love her as much as she loves you.”

She made a slight smile and you noticed that. You chuckled, you thought it was like she was also excited to meet Gemma. You gave little kisses all over her cute face, and as you did that you could feel how you were completely filled with great love and glee – one more girl has stolen your heart. 

Suddenly, you heard the door was opened, followed by a little giggle you love so much. Your heart was beating really fast – it was going to be one of the biggest moments in your life – you didn’t know if you could handle your emotions when it happened.

You saw Gemma walking in with one hand holding her dad’s and the other covering her mouth. She looked so eager to finally see her baby sibling – she didn’t know it was a girl beforehand – and you wanted to see how she reacted when she found out she had a sister. Behind them were Debbie and Tony, and Debbie had already started recording with Mason’s phone. Gemma then saw you and excitedly yelled, “Mommy!”

You giggled and waved at her in response. 

“Do you want to sit next to Mommy and baby peanut, Gem?” Mason gently asked her.

“Yes Daddy! I want to see my baby peanut now!” She responded impatiently.

Mason picked her up and sat her down next to you. When she saw her sister up close, she squealed and said “Wow, baby peanut is so small and cute!”

You introduced your firstborn to your newborn.

“Gemma, meet Iris…”

She gasped and looked at both you and Mason in disbelief.

“You have a sister, Gem!” Mason cheered.

Gemma was so happy to have a sister and she started to cry. You might have pictured this beautiful moment in your head before but what really happened was a lot better than you had imagined. It was quite overwhelming to see how emotional she was and you eventually cried as well. Mason was really touched, almost shed a tear when he saw how you and Gemma were crying. He immediately grabbed some tissues from his pocket – he was aware this was going to happen – to wipe the tears off his girls’ faces.

“Mommy… Can I hold Iris?” Gemma nervously asked, her big brown eyes were still watery but you could see the sparkles of joy in them.

“Of course, sweetie.”

You carefully handed Iris onto Gemma’s lap, teaching her how to support Iris’ little body. She was so gentle and cautious, uneasy at first as if she was afraid to hurt Iris. Mason tried to ease her since he got how nervous Gemma was – he kissed the top of her head over and over again while assuring her that she was doing fine holding her sister – and it worked out even though it took a while.

Finally feeling comfortable, Gemma gently let go of one of her hands and started caressing Iris’ cheeks. Her eyes were locked in just like his dad earlier, and you just knew she was so deeply in love with her little sister. 

“She’s so beautiful, isn’t she, Gem?” Mason was beaming in awe and Gemma nodded in agreement.

Both Gemma and Mason showered Iris with kisses. The immense amount of love Iris was getting made your heart soar. You looked at your husband and your girls and thought to yourself: how did I get so lucky?

Mason then gave you a quick but passionate kiss on your lips. He looked deeply into your eyes and expressed his gratitude and appreciation for you.

“Y/N, the way you had to bear the pain to bring me two amazing kids to our life is unbelievable. You are the most incredible woman and I can never thank you enough for everything you’ve done for me, for us… I’m so lucky to have you as my wife and the mother of our girls. I will always try to make you happy, feel loved and give you everything you need and deserve because you have given me the life I’ve always dreamed of…”

You had no words and were about to cry again. You pulled him closer and pressed your lips against his – it was a moment full of tenderness and sweet affection. As your lips parted, you two whispered “I love you” to one another.

Debbie – who was still recording – and Tony were also emotional although they were trying to keep themselves together because they thought they didn’t want to ruin the beautiful moment between your little family. You then asked the grandparents to come see the newest addition to the Mount family.

“Iris Mount… Such a beautiful name, Y/N!” Tony complimented.

“That’s perfect for her! Thank you, Y/N, for giving us wonderful grandkids!” Debbie chimed in and gave you a hug.

“Uh, Mum… I contributed too, you know. Why don’t I get a thank-you? ” Mason jokingly protested.

“Yes but you weren’t the one who carried them for months and gave birth, were you?” Debbie lightheartedly replied.

You chuckled at their banter – you held yourself back from laughing as usual because it would hurt you.

With his mother clearly winning the argument, Mason humorously backed out, pouted then stated his closing statement.

“That’s true. But Y/N and I do make the most beautiful babies.”

Debbie and Tony couldn’t help but laugh at his comeback.

—

Yes, he might not be the one who was pregnant and given birth, but he has always been an amazing and present father to Gemma. No matter how tight his schedule could be, he would always make time for her daughter. He might have missed a few milestones that happened unexpectedly but other than those he never wanted to miss out so much on his daughter’s life. When he was out of town for away games, he always asked for daily updates on Gemma and called you on Facetime in every chance he got.

Mason is an ultimate girl dad and takes great pride in it. He would dress up as princess wearing a tiara and Gemma’s little dress that barely fits him and have a tea party with her, buy a makeup set she asked for, and sometimes he would show up at training wearing a headband with the biggest bow on his head because Gemma put it on him before he left. He always said he loves being a girl dad and would do it all over again – now he really gets to do it all over again…

—

taglist: @pulisicsgirl @neverinadream @masonspulisic @swimmingismywholelife @chelseagirl98 @bracedes @lovelynikol16 @thoseboysinblue @lizzypotter14 @mortirolo @masonsrem

[reivrze]

Hii!

So maybe crush en- when them and their crush kiss but then their crush gets distant (what it is is that their crush is nervous abt the new feelings ofc) like highschool au. But if you want you can make it like the last one where’s it’s a Niki imagine that’s enemies to lovers idk lol

a/n : i apologize for the wait, i wanted to work on my series so i didn't do many requests but i hope you like this ! also i decided to leave a few of these as a cliff hanger to add suspense hehe 😈 also i didn't really commit to the highschool au thing sorry, but i wanted to make the scenarios vary, and the highschool au is restricting

pairing : crush!enha x gn!reader genre : fluff, angst warning : cursing ( ? ), probably the longest reaction i've ever written, didn't proof read lmao sorry

l. heeseung . ⁺

you guys had kiss during a truth or dare game amongst friends, your friends had been the one that dared you to kiss him as they knew you had the biggest crush on him since first grade. sure this wasn't how you had wanted your first kiss with him to go like but you were sure as hell not going to let this opportunity slip from you.

you had avoided heeseung for the rest of the night, feeling embarrassed from the earlier kiss between you two. you had been scared that if he could talk to you alone for two second that he'd tell you that the kiss was purely platonic and he had just complied because it was a dare.

what you didn't know what that he had been looking for you while you were hiding away from you. you didn't see how his cheeks turned pink the second your lips made contact with his. you didn't catch the way his hands flinched at your proximity, oh how he wanted to pull you closer to him and it killed him to keep his hands to himself. you didn't notice how his eyes saddened when he felt the warmth of your lips leave him. if only you knew all the things you missed.

p. jongseong . ⁺

jay had invited you to the studio, he had been working on a song for past month and wanted you to help him review it. you guys spent the night going over his work, not even noticing how tipsy you were getting from the wine you had been sipping together for over a few hours.

as the alcohol made its way through your veins, you head started feeling dizzy and your lids heavy, feeling tired, you laid your head on jay's shoulder. you looked up from underneath him, staring at his strong jaw, straight nose, beautiful eyes, and his oh-so soft looking lips. not really thinking much of it, your hand made its way to jay's cheek and turning his face down towards you. for once, you took a risk ad you brought his lips down to yours.

jay, not wanting to kiss you while you were intoxicated, pulled you away from him gently. realizing what you had just done, you panicked, profusely apologizing while slurring your words and pushing yourself back up ready to leave. jay didn't want you to ge the wrong message as he quickly stood up, helping you get steady,

"hey hey, love, you don't have to apologize, i want to kiss oyu but i want it to be when you'll remember it, not when you're drunk"

i struggled with that last line of dialogue, it doesn't sound as good as i wished it to be

s. jaeyun . ⁺

jake and you were engrossed in a friendly game of Twister. the colorful mat sprawled out on the floor, and your bodies twisted and contorted in an attempt to follow the game's instructions. laughter filled the room as you struggled to maintain your balance, your limbs tangled.

as the game progressed and trying to keep your balance got increasingly difficult, one misstep caused you to fall down, right on top jake, ultimately making him fall as well. for a moment, time stilled as the realization that your lips were against one another's sank into both of you, you body reacting quickly after, as you lifted your self off him, stammering apology after apology.

jake, however, had a different response, ignoring the words coming out of you as he snaked his hand around your waist, bring you back down, reconnecting your lips.

p. sunghoon . ⁺

you and sunghoon found yourselves in the middle of a heated argument. your voices grew louder, each trying to prove your point. as the tension escalated, you couldn't help but notice sunghoon's lips, mesmerized by their shape and the way they moved when he spoke. it was distracting, to say the least.

lost in your thoughts, your attention wandered from the argument, and without thinking, you leaned forward, capturing sunghoon's lips in an unexpected kiss. time seemed to stand still as your lips met, momentarily silencing the escalating argument. your action caught sunghoon off guard, and he blinked in surprise before quickly reciprocating the kiss, his lips molding with yours.

feeling a mix of embarrassment and excitement, you pulled away slightly, your cheeks turning a shade of crimson. but before you could apologize or explain yourself, sunghoon reached out and gently pulled you back in, deepening the kiss. in that moment, he whispered against your lips,

"this does not mean you won the argument."

the unexpected passion of the kiss lingered in the air as you finally broke apart, your eyes locked for a brief moment. both you and sunghoon were left speechless, your argument momentarily forgotten amidst the charged atmosphere. tt was clear that the kiss had stirred something within both of you, a connection that went beyond your disagreement.

k. sunoo . ⁺

the room was filled with tension as sunoo sat on the couch, listening intently to you pouring out your stress and anxiety over your upcoming finals. you could feel the weight of the world on your shoulders, you voice quivering and tears welling up in your eyes. the pressure had become too much, and you couldn't hold it back any longer.

"I just… I don't know what to do anymore," you managed to say between sobs, your vulnerability shining through your words.

sunoo's heart ached seeing you like this, feeling the depth of your pain. without hesitation, he moved closer, his warm presence offering solace. he reached out and gently wiped away your tears with his thumb, offering a comforting smile.

"hey, it's okay," he whispered softly. "you don't have to face this alone. I'm here for you."

as his words washed over you, a mix of emotions swirled within you. the rawness of the moment, coupled with the care he displayed, brought you closer to him. in that instant, you closed the gap between you and pressed your lips against his, seeking solace and connection amidst the chaos.

immediately realizing what you had done, you pulled away abruptly, your cheeks flushed with embarrassment and regret. "I'm so sorry," you stammered, your voice barely audible. "I shouldn't have done that.

sunoo's eyes sparkled with a mix of amusement and affection. he pulled you back into his embrace, holding you gently but firmly. with a lighthearted tone and a soft chuckle, he reassured you,

"you know, I'll always be here to listen to your worries, no matter how big or small. and as for the kissing part, let's save that for better conditions. maybe when you're not feeling so overwhelmed with finals stress."

y. jungwon . ⁺

you and jungwon found yourselves attending a lively new year's party, surrounded by friends and shimmering decorations. the air was filled with anticipation as the countdown to midnight approached. as the clock's hands neared 12, you couldn't help but steal glances at jungwon. you had been friends for a while, but lately, your feelings had blossomed into something more. your heart raced with nervous excitement, unsure of how jungwon felt.

when the moment finally arrived, the room erupted in cheers, and all eyes turned toward the large clock hanging on the wall. you couldn't resist stealing one last glance at jungwon, your eyes locking just as the clock struck 12.

in that instant, an impulsive surge of courage overcame you. you leaned in and pressed your lips against jungwon's, sharing a brief but electrifying kiss. immediately pulling back, your cheeks flushed with a mix of embarrassment and excitement. "I'm so sorry, I don't know what came over me," you stammered.

to your surprise, instead of being taken aback, jungwon burst into a warm laughter. he gently took your hand in his and brought it to his lips, pressing a tender kiss on your knuckles. "what a cute and romantic way to ask me to be your boyfriend," he said, his voice filled with affectionate amusement.

n. riki . ⁺

you and niki had been diligently practicing a beautiful and romantic choreography for the end-of-year showcase. the dance was filled with intricate movements and delicate touches that reflected your deep connection. as the music swelled to its crescendo, you found yourselves in the final position, your bodies intertwined and faces mere inches apart.

lost in the intensity of the moment, your heart raced, overwhelmed by the electric energy between you. without thinking, you leaned in and pressed your lips against niki's. realizing what had just happened, you quickly pulled away, your face flushed with surprise and embarrassment.

"m-my apologies," you stammered, your voice barely audible as you hastily gathered your things and dashed out of the practice room, desperately needing a moment alone to process the unexpected kiss. but you didn't get far before niki caught up to you, his footsteps echoing behind. gasping for breath, you turned around to face him, your eyes wide with trepidation. before you could utter a single word, niki reached out and gently took hold of your trembling hand.

"hey, you didn't give me time to say something.." he breathed out, slightly amused at the whole situation.

"i wanted to ask you if you'd like to grab coffee sometime? get to know each other outside of dance practice, you know?"

© miyu 2023 - do not copy, translate, repost or plagiarise my work anywhere !

[nahimjustfeelingit-writes]

I feel like you have made such a safe space and I really need to tell you my IRL Erik moment after reading about my girl with fairytale ending with her bestie <3

Um.. I thought I gave pretty good head y'all. Truly I did. But then last week I came face to face with a man who humbled the fuck out of me and my knees are still so weak still from his presence. 🫠

Ok so boom! I was on my period and we had been flirting for awhile so although we agreed to hang out my master plan was originally to come in the door looking good, charm him with my wit, and give him some bomb sloppy toppy to blow his mind and make him really be feenin for wanting to fuck me later on.... I know, I know. I was trying to be on my femme fatale Charlie's Angel shit and failed miserably 🙄

Hunny did I ever get humbled so quickly. I'll keep it short but BABY let me tell you the shock in my soul when I saw it...he has the longest dick I've ever seen in person. Like I seriously had my two hands cranking at the base and still had a mouth full of dick at the top. It was insane.

I walked in with confidence and walked out as happy and broken woman lmfao. We were kissing and touching and I told him I wanted to take care of him. He asked how and when he realized what I wanted to do he was like "ok ma but if u want that ur gonna have to pull him out" so me being me went straight to pull that shit out. No going back.

I was feeling myself at first. In my head like go meeeee mini superhead!! I got this boo.

I think he was amused by my attempts to swallow him y'all I could tell he was enjoying it but my deep throat was leaving some dick unsucked and he wanted more from me

Next thing I know this man is standing on the bed. One hand on the ceiling and the other is gently on the back of my head guiding me so he can fuck my mouth. TRAINING MY THROAT. 😭 He was sticking it down my throat until I gasped for air and he pulled out and then he did it over and over again.... 😫 It worked too cuz when he laid me back on the bed and told me to try again baby I was down on that thang further than I knew I could handle. I knew at that moment I fucked up and this man was not there to play with me and also that I must be a real freak cuz I loved every minute of that shit. I felt myself getting creamy from getting him off. Lord.

He really claimed my mouth and I'm not even mad about it. Then he has the nerve to be able to stop himself from cumming WELL so I was getting my throat fucked for like 40 mins 🥴 so yeah mission failed but he did nut and I sucked that shit down like it was the sweetest prize I've ever won! I worked hard for that!!! It felt so powerful to see him submit to me for even a second. This powerful man gave me some of his power in that moment and it tasted so sweet too lol

THE ICING ON THE CAKE? When we were done he takes a towel and gets some warm water on it and starts cleaning my face GENTLY.... INTIMATELY.... Staring me in my eyes while he slowly wiped my mouth, eyebrows, bridge of nose 😭😭😭😭

So yeah I'm in lust now. This is how stalkers are created I just know it....smfh

We are on opposite schedules so idk when I'll see him again. He tried to hit me up yesterday but I couldn't get to him and I was kicking myself. I'm off myself and ready to get dicked down 😭 I feel like such a stalker though cuz this man has me in an actual chokehold just from that.

Sorry I didn't edit this!! Thank you for letting me get this off my chest. I feel better now 🥹

Y'all please pray I get some help soon lmao

😩😩🥵🥵😭😭🤯🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥

“Okay ma but if you want that you’re gonna have to pull him out.”

Bruh!!!!!!! And the after care while staring you in the eyes on some “that’s my good girl.” Shit?!!!!!’

This was too damn good!!!!!

Thanks for sharing!

[ticklygiggles]

Heroic Feat | Scaramouche & Elise (commissioner's oc)

A/N: Last commission for @thornoisdono! Thank you very much for your kind support and patience! I hope you enjoy this!

I think this is the longest fic I've ever written and I don't think I'll do such thing again LOL jasnjsf

Summary: Scaramouche is in a stupid mission with the traveler, but they somehow end up separated and Scaramouche has a very interesting encounter.

Words: 7k

Where the heck was Aether?!

This was so frustrating. Seriously, Scaramouche only took his eyes off Aether for one second, he simply looked behind him when he felt a presence following them, but when he turned back around to tell Aether about it, the traveler was no longer there, not even his little fairy. Were they taken by the presence Scaramouche felt earlier?

He hated this. He knew this was a bad idea as soon as Lesser God Kusanali told him about it. Why did he have to accompany Aether, the traveler who had conquered four, (or more), regions of Teyvat by his own, to this stupid mission? Of course this was one of Lesser God Kusanali's attempts to help him redeem himself for what he had done in the past, and, even though Nahida wouldn’t admit it right in front of his face, this was also to make him socialize and start to feel a bit more… human? 

He couldn’t deny that he felt a certain warm sensation swirling inside his chest knowing that Nahida actually worried about him so tenderly; it felt nice and actually motivated him in certain way to be better, so she could feel proud of him- but those were thoughts he wouldn’t dare to say to anyone, not even to Nahida herself. Thoughts that he wouldn’t even think in that moment if it weren't because, out of wanting to make Nahida proud, he had agreed to come on this stupid expedition with Aether and now they were both lost.

Scaramouche sighed heavily, looking from right to left, hoping to find a single clue that would tell him where Aether had gone, but he couldn’t even find one of his long golden hairs. Had Aether been swallowed by the earth? He wouldn’t doubt it taking in consideration the place they were in. The Wanderer wasn’t exactly sure if they were still in Teyvat, he never knew of such lands like these, so far away from any civilization.

Every few moments, he would think that they were in Liyue, if the amber rocks meant anything, but then he would catch a glimpse of a Windwheel Aster that made him think that they were, in fact, in the City of Freedom. However, he would think twice after seeing an Onikabuto bug climbing up a tree surrounded by Rukkhashava Mushrooms and Padisarahs.

That place was nothing Scaramouche had seen before and it made him feel worried about Aether and his fairy. Were they caught by an unknown monster? Did they fall into an underground trap? Did they get sucked into a domain? Were they kidnapped? 

Worse still, what was Buer going to say when Scaramouche told her that not only had he lost the traveler and his little friend, but that they were…

Scaramouche shook his head with a growl. The best decision was to go ahead; clearly the traveler was not going to disappear off the face of the earth so easily, was he? Scaramouche would eventually find him and then they could pick up that stupid book they came looking for and they would leave as soon as possible. This place was more than Scaramouche could bear and he wanted to get out of there as soon as possible.

But things never go the way you want and he realized that when, after having passed a dense wall of bushes, a giant mansion stood right in front of him. He fought the urge to groan; if Aether wasn't in there, then he was gone forever.

Sighing heavily once more, Scaramouche reluctantly headed towards the mansion. He had never seen architecture like it, they were definitely not in Teyvat anymore.

He couldn't tell exactly what that mansion was. A house? A church? He had never seen such a construction, but for a moment he thought that a certain blond architect he knew would have liked to see this.

The closer he got to the building, the better he could appreciate every detail. This building had a very distinctive ornate style, it seemed that the entire structure was made of stone, vines climbing up the walls made it look like an abandoned place.

Ahem…

The sloping roofs, for some reason, gave him a headache and the towers and chimney seemed to stretch endlessly into the sky and it seemed as if, on a small flat part on the roof, there was some kind of garden, protected by metal with intricate designs that even Scaramouche thought looked pretty.

He had never seen so many windows in one single structure, there were more windows in this mansion than walls. The arches of the windows were perfectly rounded or rose to a small point and he could see a glass door in a balcony, also with a perfectly rounded arch and a strange pattern just above. Was it some kind of crest?

Before he knew it, he was already standing in front of the door and was surprised to see that even on the wood of the door frame, it could be seen pretty patterns of flowers, leaves and more shapes that all together made it really something exquisite to see. Scaramouche fought the urge to caress the details with his fingertips.

Up close, the mansion was huge. No matter how much he craned his neck back, he never seemed to be able to see the top of the mansion.

Did he really need to knock on the door? Perhaps he could only get in? Yet again, this was a strange place, what if he activated some kind of mechanism when he opened the door? He did a quick inspection with his eyes, and it certainly didn't seem any different from a common door.

Barging in would be. He lifted one of his legs, feeling the air around him wrap around his calf and swirl under the sole of his shoe, just as he was about to kick the beautiful door open, it opened of its own accord and Scaramouche held his breath, surprised to see someone right in front of him.

A young lady smiled dangerously at him, behind her red lips two sharp fangs peeked out and Scaramouche realized at that moment that they were definitely not in Teyvat. He had never seen a… person with fangs this long and sharp, countless beasts, of course, but never a human unless, of course, this girl in front of him was not a human.

Her long violet hair almost reached her heels and the ends of it ended in small curls that bounced slightly with her movements. Her clothing was… eccentric and he reminded him a little of the type of clothing La Signora used to wear, but he quickly shook off that memory and tried to tear his eyes away from all of this girl's exposed skin.

Her shirt fell open, exposing her clavicle and much of her chest. Her dress hugged her figure so much that Scaramouche felt a little suffocated just looking at it. The skirt of her outfit ended a little higher than the middle of her thighs and her legs were clad in long stockings that reached mid-thigh, garter belts hugging the top of her legs, disappearing under her skirt.

She had a lovely face and her large eyes shone with a strange reddish color. Her whole person exuded 'danger', from the twinkle in her eyes, the mischievous smile on her lips, and that overly confident stance. The alarms in Scaramouche's brain began to ring and he thought that this was the only person who could hold Aether and Paimon captive. He at least had found the culprit.

"Like what you see?"

The girl's voice snapped him back to reality and he arched an eyebrow as he lowered her leg and crossed her arms over her chest, dissatisfied. The girl laughed, and it seemed to Scaramouche that her laughter sounded like little bells ringing all at the same time. Annoying.

"Well," she continued, looking Scaramouche up and down. "I see you're not from around here either, right?" She cocked her head like a confused bird. "That blonde boy and his floating pet looked just as weird as you.” Scaramouche could tell she was trying to taunt him, make him react with her words, but he remained expressionless, an almost bored expression on his features, but that didn’t stop her. “From their clothes to the way they talked and, well, you don't see a child flying around every day, do you?"

Well, it was clear that she had seen Aether and Paimon around, and Scaramouche was almost certain that she had them captive, perhaps in a secret room inside this huge house?

“Where are they?” He spat, hoping that the girl would actually tell him Aether’s location so they could finally leave, but of course, things weren’t going to be that easy. He felt terribly tired. 

Her whole face lighted up and she let out a soft, excited gasp. “Ah, so you can talk! And what a nice voice you have! What is your name? I am Elise!”

“I do not care about that. Tell me where they are.”

Elise smirked, glancing at him with a humorous look, an eyebrow arched. “Now now, that’s not very nice, is it? That’s how you treat someone you just met?”

“No. Worst.”

He did not like this situation at all, as their bickering continued, Elise seemed to get more and more excited; she looked tremendously happy and dangerous all at the same time. It made Scaramouche feel uneasy in so many ways. For a moment, he thought this whole situation was the most interesting thing that had happened to her in a long time. She was like a hungry beast, now that she had had a taste of a delicious meal, she was not going to stop eating it until it was completely finished. Scaramouche winced. 

Lesser God Kusanali… do you really need that stupid artifact?

“I don’t have time for this,” Scaramouche said, taking a step forward. “Tell me where they are right now or else I’ll-

“I’m a vampire, you know?” She interrupted him and Scaramouche frowned. “I can suck your blood until you’re nothing but an empty vessel. Useless and pathetic. Writhing like a worm with these,” she pointed at her bangs, “sunk into your skin. Sounds fun to me, what about you?”

Scaramouche bared his teeth. “I don’t care who or what you are,” he said, looking her up and down. “If you don’t tell me where they are, I am going to kill your right here and now and I will destroy-

“Tch, tch, tch.” She shook her head, a fake sad expression overtaking her features. “You have such a nasty mouth. You don’t tell me your name and then you threaten me?” She sighed, shaking her head. “What a shame, with that terrible attitude of yours I certainly can’t help you get to your little friends you worry so much about!”

He fought the sudden warmth wanting to spread over his cheeks. They weren’t… his friends. He had no friends, the only thing he could ever have were enemies and many of them. He’s done so many outrageous things, he was not one worth of friendship. He did not wish to meddle with those weak foolish creatures that Nahida fervently wished he had some connection with. Having any type of feelings towards expirable beings, changing emotions, who did not know how to measure the magnitude of their words- no. Scaramouche wanted nothing to do with them… and yet, a question was asked in his head, a question he dismissed immediately, but settled in the middle of his chest.

Could Aether ever see him as a friend? Could this traveler stop being alert around Scaramouche all the time and start enjoying spending time with him just because?

Hah, ridiculous.

This was no time to think stupid things, it was clear that Elise was tempting him, she could hear in her voice the desire to make some kind of deal with him. He didn't like the idea, but if it had to be that way, then so be it.

“Unless, of course…”

There it was. 

“What do you want?” He asked, knowing from the beginning that he was going to despite anything she said to him. 

Elise giggled, covering her mouth with one of her hands before catching a strand of long hair and twirling it around her long fingers. “Well, you’ll see… You are not a human, right?” She sent a glance to him and Scaramouche stiffened a little, feeling strangely vulnerable.

“So what?” He barked, squinting his eyesa and Elise lifted her hands, showing both her palms. 

“I’m just curious,” she said with a big grin. “I'm usually pretty good at deciphering the species of all the creatures I come across, but you... what are you?” She squinted and stared at Scaramouche's face as if the answers for her questions would magically appear on his forehead. “So, I would like to do some… tests on you, nothing too intense, I promise. I just have a feeling that you’ll refuse to tell me exactly what you are, so I’ll have to find out by myself!”

A certain unpleasant sensation tightened his chest, but Scaramouche didn’t show any discomfort, on the contrary, he chuckled and shrugged. “I’ve been tested plenty of times before.” For the first time Scaramouche saw something else flash in Elise’s eyes besides mischief, perhaps a bit of surprise? “I surely can take whatever you want to do, but I will only accept if you tell me where-

She rolled her eyes, now showing disgust. “Yes, yes yes, I will. Aish, you really like those two huh?”

Scaramouche scowled,  “I do not. They’re under my care, that’s why.”

“Oh, poor things. Now I feel bad for them,” she cooed and Scaramouche sent her a nasty look, making her laugh.

Elise welcomed Scaramouche into her home and she babbled a little about the construction and everything related to every single detail in the huge mansion. Scaramouche barely paid any attention and he simply nodded and hummed here and there, but he knew Elise knew he wasn’t listening, she just enjoyed talking and would continue even if Scaramouche was unconscious. 

That awkward sensation was still swirling within him. Making him somehow nauseous. He thought that Buer would probably feel a little sad knowing that someone experimented on him, especially after past events, so he would probably leave that part out once they returned and she asked him for a verbal report. Thinking about her big eyes glowing with excitement made him feel a little less sick. He hoped this could end soon. 

“Here we are!”

He never thought there would be some kind of laboratory inside this mansion, but there it was. Exceptionally cold and terribly equipped with bottles filled with colorful substances and tools that he didn’t even want to know what they were used for. In the middle of the lab, there was some kind of bed that looked far from comfortable, four little versions of beds sticking from three sides, those were for the arms and legs, Scaramouche knew and he made his way to it without even blinking an eye. 

“Oh, how did you know- oh.” For once she closed her mouth and the air was suddenly filled with awkwardness, Scaramouche let out a breath through his nose, a soft humorless chuckle that made Elise turn a little pink. “A-Anyways, yes. Lay down right there.”

She didn’t need to tell him as he was already laying down, getting himself as comfortable as he could as his limbs spread over the extensions of the bed and he couldn’t help but tense a little when Elise was suddenly by his side, studying him with her eyes, he could see excitement brimming on them. She smiled brightly and quickly dragged a wheeled side table close to the bed Scaramouche was in. He saw some tools and he winced slightly. 

“Are you not going to tie me?”

Elise was surprised by his sudden question and he arched a brow, urging her to answer. 

“I won’t,” she said, perhaps a little too serious, making Scaramouche feel slightly uncomfortable. “I don’t plan to do anything too crazy on you, you know?” She said, scribbling on a worn out notebook. “Just a few examinations.” 

“Mhm, whatever. Get to it quickly.”

Elise rolled her eyes, but she went into action right away. From head to toe, Scaramouche was carefully examined. 

“Your resistance to pain is actually amazing,” she said, writing on her notes. “I hope it wasn’t too terrible.”

Scaramouche shrugged, he wasn’t even sweating. “Are you done?”

“Hmm, I just want to keep checking the sensitivity of your skin,” she said, quickly sending a glance to all the spots where she could see Scaramouche’s bare, milky skin. “I already saw how good you are at tolerating pain, those tests weren’t as bad either, were they?”

She smirked playfully and Scaramouche wanted to whine. Was it really worth it to do this for Aether? In the end that traveler would know how to get out on his own, Scaramouche could just wait for him sitting comfortably on a rock or on a tree branch, right? Lesser god Kusanali would not even know that he-

“Haa!” A sudden gasp escaped him as he heavily jerked his leg away from the touch of her icy fingers. “What the hell are you trying-

Elise giggled, “well, that was certainly a good reaction. Did that tickle?”

Tickle?! Scaramouche widened his eyes. Oh no. It hadn’t been long since he was forced to find out that he was, much to his absolute embarrassment, extremely ticklish, or at least, way more ticklish than what he liked to admit. His mind still couldn’t wrap around the idea of him being so sensitive to some stupid light touches to his skin.

And oh, how much he hated it when the traveler decided to ambush him with those wiggly fingers digging under his arms or squeezing that terrible spot on his inner thighs- no matter how many times Aether would say he looked rather happy and like he was enjoying himself, of course he was not enjoying himself. Not in the slightest… he liked to say that, but he couldn’t deny that that overwhelming sensation, that always made him felt breathless and so out of control, also made him feel light and human and something warm always spread inside his chest when he could see, (through teary eyes), that Aether always looked so happy while he was reducing him into a laughing, cackling mess.

He always smiled kindly, not like he was trying to make Scaramouche suffer some kind of torture, but just like he wanted… to have fun with him, even that little flying thingy, always so weary around Scaramouche, looked she was having fun with him, telling Aether where to tickle him next and giggling like a kid as she heard Scaramouche laughing his head off. 

But he would always say that he hated it, especially around this girl!

“Oh? Are you very ticklish?” She teased, and Scaramouche bit the inside of his cheek to prevent himself from laughing when her fingers wiggled against his knee, his body, however, acted by instinct and his leg jerked away again. She laughed, “oh heavens, we’re gonna have so much fun!”

“Do not do this,” he warned, scowling at her. “I let you do your little stupid experiments on me already, so now you should stop this and-

“I did say,” she started, interrupting him for the umpteenth time that day, “that I was going to tell you about your little friend’s whereabouts after I did my tests and I haven’t finished them,” she said, looking at him with a glint in her eyes. “So, are you going to take it or are you going to go and try to find them on your own?”

Scaramouche wanted to growl at her. Was she saying that he had to endure being tickled by her just so he could know where the hell were Paimon and Aether? That was ridiculous! Why did he have to put up with that humiliation just for the sake of the traveler? Yet again… would Aether be upset if Scaramouche didn’t help him out? Nahida most definitely would. Besides, what would they both say if they ever found out that he couldn’t save Aether because he couldn’t stand some stupid tickling?

That was even worse still!

Scaramouche huffed, looked at Elise and nodded, making her squeal and clap excitedly. 

“Good choice you’ve made, dear stranger!” She said, putting her notebook and pencil aside, causing Scaramouche to feel a wave of nervousness rushing through him. “I think we should start here,” she said, moving to the end of the kind of bed where Scaramouche was laying. “I really don’t understand your weird outfit at all, but aren’t you cold having your toes all uncovered like this?”

Scaramouche rolled his eyes. “You are one to talk about weird outfits, have you seen your s-sehehelf? A-Ack!”

“Hey! What do you mean by that? I look glorious in this outfit, you’re just jealous. And no holding back! Can’t you see I’m trying to see your reactions? So don’t keep yourself from laughing!”

Scaramouche whined as he curled his toes, she had undone his sandals rather quickly and now was scribbling her fingers up and down his soles. It tickled so bad, and Scaramouche wanted to laugh already, but would he give her the gratification to see him laughing already? Probably yes, because he wanted this to stop quickly.

“Nnghh– stahahap!” Ugh he hated to giggle! He gripped the edges of the bed and tried to keep his feet as still as he could, but when her long fingers scratched under his toes, he couldn’t help but jerk his feet away with a loud laugh. “I sahahahaid stahahap!”

“And I’m telling you not to move or else I’ll have to start all over again!” She said and even though she wanted to sound threatening, there was laughter mixing in her voice. “Hmm, toes seem to be very sensitive, right under them?”

Scaramouche squeaked as she continued to tickle under his toes. The scritch-scratch of her fingernails against his sensitive skin was making impossible the task to keep his feet still. That was, indeed, one of his weakest spots and she found it so quickly! Her nails scribbled against the balls of his feet, focusing on that protruding bone on the side of his foot, near his big toe that had him throwing his head back with louder laughter. 

His arches weren’t any better and when she reached them, he moved his feet away with a cackle, quickly putting them in place again so she could continue her stupid tests. 

“Oh goodness, I can’t tell what spot in your feet is more sensitive! You’re just so ticklish!”

Scaramouche felt warmth spreading across his cheeks, burning around his ears and traveling all the way down to his neck. He knew he was ticklish, was it too necessary to be reminded about it?! Was she going to keep tickling him until she found his weakest spot on his feet? Might as well help her out. 

“Ihihit’s uhuhundeheher my tohohoes- ahahaha!” That was a bad idea after all.

“Right here? Right underneath? Look how you try to curl your toes! Does it tickle that-

“It dohohohoes!” Scaramouche growled between loud laughs. “Juhuhust mohohove ohohon!”

Elise laughed, but she kept tickling Scaramouche there until he was laughing nearly in hysterics and almost kicking her right in the face. When she finally stopped, Scaramouche heaved his weight back into the uncomfortable bed, breathing heavily and trying to move his fingers that had gone stiff from gripping the bed with nearly all his strength. 

“Are you good there?” Elise asked. “Need some water or something?”

Scaramouche shook his head. “J-Just keep going. I want to finish with this soon.”

Elise chuckled, moving now to Scaramouche’s legs. “Is that so? I thought you were enjoying it.”

If it was Aether then maybe, but– no, no, no, no! What is he even thinking about right now?! Ah, he really hoped Nahida would be really happy and proud of him when they finally made it out of here. 

“Okay, let us continue.” Elise’s voice made him jump a little and Scaramouche flinched slightly, making her giggle. “Maybe I’ll tickle you here next,” she said, her hands hovering over his thighs and knees.

Scaramouche couldn’t help but widen his eyes. He so desperately wanted to tell her to not tickle him there, but he knew any plea would fall into deaf ears, if anything, he thought she’d be even meaner if he admitted that that was, in fact, his most ticklish spot. He sent a quick glance to Elise and tightly shut his eyes when he saw her smirking at him. He could handle this, he could handle this. He just needed to laugh as hard as he could to give her what she wanted and this experiment would be over, he just–

“EEEEK!” A loud, surprised shriek escaped his lips when, instead of feeling her fingers digging into the sensitive muscles of his thighs, they latched to his hips and squeezed at his flesh in the most ticklish way possible. 

Scaramouche tipped his head back with loud laughter, his arms embracing himself as his knees moved up, trying to protect his hip bones. He squirmed and shook, but Elise easily followed him as if her hands were glued to his body.

“I think I’ll leave your thighs for later,” Elise said with laughter in her voice as she clawed at Scaramouche’s hips. “I have a feeling they’ll be very fun to tickle!”

“N-Nohohoho! Gahahaha! Stahahap!”

“You know,” she said, her hands moving to wiggle at his lower stomach. “It is pretty hard to tell where you are the most ticklish when you’re this ticklish all over.”

Scaramouche shook his head, embarrassing giggles making his body shake as she vibrated her fingers in that space between his hips. “Yohohu juhuhust sahahaid you wahahanted totestmysensitivity– stahahahap!”

Elise nodded, “I want to check your sensitivity, but I also need to make a map of all of your good spots to see if they are related in any kind of way.”

That didn’t make any sense, and by the playfulness mingling in her voices, Scaramouche knew that she knew she was talking nonsense, but he could barely pay any mind as the maddening sensation was making him laugh and giggle so hard. By now, he could only focus on her fingers tickling him all over. 

She grew bored of his sweet giggles soon and Scaramouche squeaked when he felt her hands moving upwards towards his belly, sneaking under his tunic to have better access to all of his torso. Elise scribbled her fingers against his tummy, making him arch his back with bright giggles as he embraced himself tighter, trying to stop himself from pushing her hands away. The fabric of his black undershirt was not helpful at all for it only made it easier for her fingernails to scratch at the sensitive skin of his stomach. 

Scaramouche didn’t hold back any sound, not wanting to make her tickle him for longer than necessary, so his squeaks, shrieks, giggles and laughs came out freely, embarrassing him to the core, especially that stupid high-pitched sound he let out when she circled his belly button before dipping a single finger in, wiggling it around until she made him snort. 

Elise gasped, “snorting already? I’m barely starting, though!” She said, fanning her fingers out to grab a hold of Scaramouche’s lower sides, her thumbs sinking into the sides of his stomach. “Your stomach seems very ticklish, but it’s not as bad as your hips, right?” Scaramouche simply nodded. “Yes, I see. So far your feet are still in first place, your hips in second, but let’s see how I can bring out more of that loud laughter of yours.”

Scaramouche whined between laughs as she started to squeeze her way up his sides towards his ribcage. Once there, his laughter turned a tad bit more desperate and he unconsciously tried to wrap his arms around his ribs, but she stopped him.

“Nuh-uh! You can’t do that, you’ll mess up my testing!” Scaramouche growled, but he quickly moved his arms away and back to where he was gripping that bed earlier, but Elise stopped him again. “I think over your head would be better.”

Scaramouche gasped, shaking his head. “Ahahahare you crahahazy?! I cahahan’t!”

Elise shrugged, a smirk on her lips as her fingers came to a stop. “If you can’t, then I’ll have to stop and you’ll never know where your little friends are. It’s up to you, handsome boy.”

He whined. Oh, he really hoped Nahida welcomed him back with a great banquet or something. Trembling and with his body begging him not to do it, he raised his hands above his head, his hands holding tightly at the upper edge of the bed, he took a deep breath and looked up at Elise. 

“Thehere, are you happy now? You better finish this up quickly or else I- AHAHAHA!!

“Yes, yes, yes,” she said as her fingers started to claw at his exposed ribs. Scaramouche arched his back and kicked his legs, tears of laughter were already prickling at his eyes. “You keep threatening me, how mean!”

“You keheheep dohohoing so too– Ahahaha! Wait! Wahahahait!”

She didn’t know, but Scaramouche could positively howl with laughter if someone were to tickle his ribs one by one, he had found this out thanks to Aether, of course, so he couldn’t help but grow desperate when he felt her nimble fingers rubbing deep circles to both of his lowest ribs. 

“I cannot wait, sorry,” she said, with no regret in her voice. “But, hey, I wonder how many ribs you have. Do you have any more or less?” 

Scaramouche shrieked, shaking his head. “I hahahave twenty-fohohour! Twehehehenty- nahahahaha!” 

And so, the counting started, and as Scaramouche expected it, Elise lost count many times, claiming that he was moving too much, even when he was doing his best to not squirm so she could finish soon. How much he hated his stupid ribs, why did they have to be so damn ticklish? And why did Elise have to focus the most on those ribs that made him laugh like a mad man? The eighth ribs, counting from bottom to top, were Scaramouche’s weakness, along with the highest ones, close to his underarms, and it didn’t take Elise long to figure that out, her fingertips clawing into the sensitive skin.

“Whoa, your ribs really are ticklish!” She said, giggling as Scaramouche nearly lost his mind. “I think- hey!” Scaramouche’s arms came flying back down to wrap around his ribs, trapping her hands right against his most sensitive set of ribs. “Now, lift your arms! You were doing so well!”

Scaramouche gasped, shaking his head before throwing it back with shrieking laughter. 

“Ahahahare y-you ahahaout of your mihihihind?!” He laughed, jolting with a squeak when he felt her fingers massaging into his poor ribs, driving him up the wall. “I cahahan’t!”

“I’ll have to stick here, then,” she said, shrugging her shoulders, a bright smile curling her lips as a soft blush covered her cheeks. “I wonder how crazy I can drive you with just tickling your ribs? They seem plenty sensitive already.” It was a miracle that Scaramouche could hear her over his laughter. “Hey, I wonder, are you getting any more ticklish the more I tickle you here?”

There were only two options: say yes and hope that she will stop for a moment to let him catch his breath or say no and suffer the consequences of his stubbornness. For Scaramouche, the answer was quite clear.

“YEHEHES! Yehehehes, plehehase!”

“Oh, poor you.”

As much as he wanted to act tough and unfaced by it, he honestly was just too ticklish and he needed a break, so he was glad when Elise did stop, even though her words made him think that she wouldn’t. She pulled her hands away from his body and placed them behind her back, perhaps to give him the assurance that she wouldn’t start right away. 

Scaramouche gulped in air, his body going limp into the uncomfortable bed. He was sweating already, his clothes were askew, his tunic falling off one his shoulders, his hair was messy and a deep blush covered his cheeks and the bridge of his nose. He was shaking slightly, his nervous system vibrating after all of that stimulation. He hoped Elise would tell him that that was all, but he knew it wasn’t. She hadn’t even gotten his worst spot and she surely looked excitedly at that tiny crevice between his chest and arm, letting him know that she really wanted to tickle him under his arms. 

How long has it been? He felt like he had been there for days, his mind feeling a little funny, like his brain was short-circuiting, his body was tingling all over and he just couldn’t erase the forced smile upon his ribs. Ugh, really! Why did he have to grow fond of Aether and Paimon?!

“I think you can raise your arms now, right?” She suddenly said, now that Scaramouche was breathing a little more easily, her voice making him jump slightly. “I think you can raise your arms now, right? We still have some spots to go and, I’ll just let you know, I didn’t leave any water or food for your cute friends.”

Scaramouche whined deep inside himself. His underarms were already driving him crazy with phantom tickles, he was one hundred percent sure that he wouldn’t be able to stand tickling down there, not even a single poke, but even so, he swallowed thickly and started to unwrap himself from his self embrace. 

Elise giggled and he was a little thankful when she took a step back. He felt so stupid lifting his arms above his head, grippin the edge of the bed again. His arms were trembling so hard and it took him a whole minute to lift them completely to expose himself, but the worst definitely was the fact that laughter was bubbling in his chest already.

Elise seemed to notice as she laughed. “Are you nervous now? Don’t worry, you’ll have lots of fun.”

Scaramouche growled. “Just s-start already! You just keep- AHAHAHAHA!”

She seemed to love that. Start tickling him when he was mid sentence. His arms came down miserably as soon as her fingers dug into his hyper ticklish armpits, her hands sneaking past his tunic and touching his skin directly thanks to the sleeveless undershirt he wore. He arched his back and pressed his arms as tightly as he could against his sides, but her fingers still wiggled and pinched at his skin. He was nearly in hysterics, tears of laughter rolling down the sides of his face and into his hairline. He couldn’t think, couldn’t focus on anything else that wasn’t the intense sensation rushing through him.

And this was not even his most ticklish spot. 

Oh, Lesser Lord Kusanali, have mercy on him. 

“Oh heavens,” Elise said with laughter in her voice. “Aren’t you just too ticklish for your own good?”

Scaramouche didn’t know this, (and he would be glad to never know this), but he was a delight to tickle. Maybe that was the reason why Aether enjoyed doing so so much. His ticklishness was ridiculous, but at the same time so adorable. It was impossible to think that such a stubborn and rude person was just this sensitive to tickling and perhaps, it brought out a kind of sadistic side on everyone one, a need to turn that frown upside down and force a big, bright smile on his handsome face.

Besides that, his laughter was just so cute. So high pitched and bubbly, almost childish. It was nearly impossible to not laugh along with him and his smile, even though he wanted to, it looked so sincere and happy. It was a mystery to everyone to know he was actually enjoying it or not… to everyone except for Aether of course. 

Scaramouche was positively losing his mind. “STAHAHAP! I CAHAHAN’T!”

Elise giggled, “you can’t what? Your arms are not even up anymore,” she said, speeding her tickling to make Scaramouche shriek. “But it doesn’t really matter, you’ve trapped my hands anyway, so I will only stop until you lift your arms, how does that sound?”

He shook his head. Incapable to utter any other sound that wasn't his cackly, nearly hysterical laughter. He could barely squirm, his body stiff in rather a weird attempt to prevent Elise’s fingers from wiggling under his poor arms, but of course that didn’t work, and Scaramouche could only laugh and laugh and laugh, feeling ticklish sparks rushing through his whole body. The tickles under his arms quickly spread to his upper ribs and soon his laughter had gone silent, his body shaking and vibrating. 

“Oops,” Elise said with a little giggle as her fingers stilled and she pulled her hands out from under Scaramouche’s arms. “I think I broke you, will you be able to stand some more tickling?”

Scaramouche shook his head as his laughter got its volume back and it quickly faded into giggles and then heavy breaths. 

“N-Nohoho,” he said, trembling slightly and blinking away tears of laughter. “I’ll- Ihihi’ll dihihie…”

“Oh, you’re so dramatic,” she said, playfully rolling her eyes. “It is no fun if you die, is it? I still want to try just one more spot, okay?”

Scaramouche gulped, shaking his head again. He knew what spot she was talking about and he was not sure he would really survive a second of it. Not if Elise acted as merciless as she had done so far. 

Elise smirked, placing a single hand over Scaramouche's knee, making him jerk and shriek. Elise laughed, throwing her head back. 

"Oh, c'mon, it cannot be that bad, can it?" She pressed her fingers into the skin, not exactly tickling him, but it made Scaramouche's skin prickle with goosebumps. "I mean, we can stop here, but you will never know where your friends-

Scaramouche growled, "just do it! I want to end this as soon as-s p- ahahaha! I hahahahate yohohou!" 

Fingernails skittered against his thighs and knees, little spider-like-legs crawling all over the sensitive skin, making Scaramouche break into hysterical giggling. His legs were trembling, trying to keep them still for those tickles that made him want to crawl out of his skin. Goosebumps covered his thighs and he let out squeaks and shrieks when Elise’s fingers circled around his knees and climbed a bit too high, towards his inner thighs. 

Scaramouche could feel every pore in his body exuding sweat as he tried to keep himself from kicking Elise in the face, not because he was any kind, but because he knew she would probably tie him up and start tickling him all over one more time. It was a risk he was not going to take, so he keep himself wide open, feeling on the edge, waiting for her to actually star the torture. 

Elise chuckled. “I had a feeling your legs would be very ticklish,” she said, her fingers skittering up, sneaking under Scaramouche’s shorts and digging slightly into the tender, hidden flesh and he let out shrieky, panicky laughter. “Now I’m starting to think I might end up killing you if I really tickle you here!”

“Thehehen dohohon’t! Stahahap ahahalreaAAH! AHAHAHA! STAHAHA!”

Oh, he was expecting it, but he could never get ready for the maddening sensation of fingertips digging into his ticklish flesh, that tender and soft spot just a few centimeters away from his crotch was enough to make him scream with laughter with just a few squeezes. He caved in within seconds, his legs closing together, once again trapping Elise’s hands into his weak spots. 

“I can tell this,” she said, almost screaming over Scaramoche’s laughter so he could hear her. “You’re the most ticklish being I’ve ever met, handsome boy.”

Scaramouche wanted to pull his hair out, throw her away, jump out of that damn bed just to make her stop, but he endured. Oh, that little fairy, he hoped Paimon would stop being so on edge around him- not that he was going to tell her he had to do this in order to save her life. 

He was doomed. He couldn’t actually say anything about his heroic, (yes, heroic), feat. What would Aether, Paimon and Nahida say?! This couldn’t get any worse, could it?

“FAHAHACK! NAHAHA!”

Oh, it could. Elise was not only tickling his inner thighs, one of her hands had now moved to his hip and the heavy jerk he just did, almost threw him off the bed. He was squirming so hard, and with each of his moves, nice jingly sounds mixed with his laughter, making it sound almost angelical. Not that Scaramouche would ever think that about his crazy, desperate laughter.

“Okahahay! OKAHAHAY!” Scaramouche said, at the verge of going crazy. “Plehehease! Plehehease, STAHAHA-!”

Elise didn’t stop right away, she waited just until his laughter turned a little weezhy and snorty and so, her hands finally left his sensitive body and Scaramouche collapsed into the bed. Gulpin in sweet oxygen as he tried to stop his residual laughter. Not even Aether had dared to tickle him like this- of course, that was because he only wanted to have fun and make Scaramouche light up a bit, on the other hand this girl here… well, he wasn’t really sure what exactly she wanted. 

He was surprised and a bit thankful when she lent him a glass of water from Nahida-knows-where. He was a bit suspicious about the liquid, but he had a desert in his mouth and as he sat himself up, he gulped gladly at it and drank the whole thing in one long swallow, choking a little. 

“There, there,” she said, patting his back. “That wasn’t too bad, was it?”

He glared at her and only when he thought he wouldn’t make a fool of himself, he spoke with a hoarse voice. “Are we done?”

Elise grinned widely and his heart dropped to his feet, thinking that she would get him again, his body tingling all over, but she simply nodded, squeezing his shoulder slightly. 

“Thank you for your kind, kind collaboration with my little experiment, handsome boy,” she said, batting her lashes at him. “I hope we get to see each other again soon.”

He frowned. “I hope not. Now, tell me where- hey!”

Elise snapped her fingers, and in a blink of an eye, Scaramouche found himself out of the mansion and into the path that had led him to Elise’s manor. 

Wait.

That little-! Did she deceive him?! That woman! He went through all of that for nothing! Oh, she’d see! He was going to force her to tell him exactly where Aether and Paimon were even if he had to use force and-

“Oh? Scaramouche?” Scaramouche halted, turning around to find Aether. Paimon beside him with that book Nahida wanted so much between her hands. “You’re here! We were worried!”

“Ha?! Paimon was certainly not worried!” She said, but Scaramouche could not even argue back to annoy her, he was just staring at them with wide eyes. 

“Where the hell were you?” He said, feeling his cheeks strangely hot. 

Aether approached him and he was wearing a little smile that told Scaramouche that the traveler had not been, in fact, kept captive.

“We were looking for you!” Aether said, pointing somewhere deep into the woods. “I was talking to you, but you suddenly weren’t there anymore! Paimon and I were-

“Paimon wasn’t!”

“... Were looking for you, but we kept going in circles, but we thought we heard you laughing?” Scaramouche’s cheeks felt hotter and hotter the more Aether talked. “We tried following the sound, but we just couldn’t find the way! Are you okay? Was it really you laughing?”

Scaramouche sighed. He was really deceived, wasn’t he? He shook his head, looking at Aether as if he was out of his mind.

“Don’t be a fool,” he said, crossing his arms. “Why would I be laughing? I want to go back now.” He snatched the book from Paimon’s hands.

“Hey!”

“So let’s leave before I go crazy. Hurry up.”

“Oh, but do you know the way?”

“Paimon doesn’t want to follow you!”

“I know the way, and if you don’t want to stay here in this stupid place, little fairy, you must follow me, then.”

“Paimon is not a fairy!” She said, stomping her feet in the air and yanking at Aether’s clothes. “Aether! He’s being mean to Paimon!”

Scaramouche chuckled and he quickly made his way through a sudden path both Aether and him failed to notice before. Good, at least she could show them the way out after making him go through tickle hell for nothing!!

[jungle-angel]

Going to pick out the Christmas tree with rhett! please and thank you <333

(cue the aliens from Toy Story) Rachel I must say......you chose......wisely (lol).

You were a little wary about heading out into the middle of nowhere to the Christmas tree farm, but as long as it was with Rhett, you didn't care. You knew the guy like he was a member of your own family and would've done anything to help him out.

"Freezin ma balls off!!" Rhett loudly exclaimed as you pulled into the lot.

You almost spat out the chocolate peppermint coffee you had been drinking. Typical of Rhett to come out with something random like that at the most inopportune times.

Sure enough, there was Dusty Robertson and his young grandkids, the owner of the lot who had known Royal, John Dutton, Thomas Rainwater, Mo and the rest of their cohorts since they were knee high. Rhett never forgot the first time you had introduced Amy to him, the little one thinking that he was indeed Santa from the bushy white beard and wire rimmed glasses.

"Well, well, if it ain't Rhett and (Y/n) Abbott," Dusty greeted happily, shaking Rhett's hand. "How ya'll doin this afternoon?"

"Better'n ever Dusty," Rhett answered. "How's Rosa doin?"

"Much better'n where she was before," Dusty answered. "Just needs to keep that leg'o hers up and she'll be good to go. Now whatcha lookin for this afternoon? Balsam? Cedar? Blue Fir?"

"Whatever's fullest and smells nicest," Rhett chuckled.

"Well then I'll take ya'll over here and show ya," Dusty told him.

You and Rhett listened intently to Dusty. There was no doubt that the man knew his trees and knew them well, almost as if he could speak to them and hear their words. Your eyes fell on a pretty little tree while the men were talking and while Dusty's grandkids all ran about and chased each other in the snow. It was such a pretty little thing, full as could be with the longest and softest needles you had ever seen, brushing under your fingertips like paintbrush bristles.

"Rhett what about this one?" you asked.

Rhett gently rubbed the needles in between his fingers and inhaled their sharp scent. "Not bad, not bad at all," he said.

"That there's a Western White Pine," Dusty explained. "Every year I give some to the smokejumper and the hotshot crews and they go out and plant'em after the fires are done."

You and Rhett were a little more than surprised to find that the tree hadn't yet dropped its pinecones. "What d you think sweetheart?" Rhett asked. "Think it's worth it?"

"So worth it," you told him.

"We'll take this one Dusty," Rhett told the old cowboy.

"Alright c'mon back with me, I've gotta saw ya'll can use if you need it," Dusty said.

You, Rhett and Dusty worked to get the tree as best you could and when the last cut had been made, you paid the old cowboy and loaded the tree into the bed of the truck.

"Can't wait to see the look on Ma and Dad's faces when we get home," Rhett said excitedly.

"Your dad is gonna flip when he sees it," you told him.

Rhett leaned in and gave you a kiss. "Love you sweetheart," he said.

"I love you too Rhett," you answered, hooking your arms around his bicep and resting your head on his shoulder for the long ride home.

[gen-is-gone]

Doctor Who and 2 for the fandom meme?

2. My three favorite characters and why I love them so much.

Hello hi would you like to hear about the best TARDIS team you've never heard of, right as I've fallen back hard into special interest fixation on them :D :D :D

So there's this book series.

After The Enemy Within, aka Doctor Who the TV Movie, premiered to an astounding lack of enthusiasm in 1996, BBC books decided to steal Virgin Publishing's idea to write novels about dr who, and promptly yoinked the license so they could cut out the middleman and do just that, this time starring Paul McGann's Eighth Doctor instead of Sylvester McCoy's Seventh. This novel series was called, aptly enough, The Eighth Doctor Adventures. So entirely skipping over almost three decades' worth of entertaining intrafandom drama and also how nu!who shamelessly stole basically every good idea the EDAs ever had (the biggest being of course the Time War, tho tragically nowhere near as well done), my favorite TARDIS crew:

The Eighth Doctor (as you may have guessed), Fitz Kreiner, and Anji Kapoor.

I love them, I adore them, they're my best friends. All three of them are amazing in their own right, but they're absolutely phenomenal as a team.

Eight, and the EDA version of them specifically, is my favorite doctor bar none. They're flighty and giddy and tactile and deeply affectionate, they're extremely weird and have a number hyperfixations and special interests and other very relatable neurodivergent tendencies. They are very prone to amnesia in a way which starts off as kind of a running gag and ends up being a huge plot point for the entire second half of the series. They're easily the most genderfluid the Doctor ever gets before textually being played by a woman and going by she/her, which is a big part of why I like using they/them pronouns for the Doctor generally. They kiss people often and canonically date people of multiple genders. Being played by (or at least written in reference to) Paul McGann, they are extremely pretty. They also go through the absolute fucking wringer, both in the sense that their arc plots are really dramatic and complicated and dark, and also in the sense that some of the folks writing for the series are pretty unapologetic whump fans lol. Best Doctor. No notes.

Next up is My BoyTM. The ur-blorbo himself, Fitzgerald Michael Kreiner. He's the best and I hate him. He's the worst and I love him. He's a musician from 1963 with appalling fashion sense and truly awful luck. He's canonically bi and in love with the Doctor (and their kiss in the novel Dominion in 1998 was the first kiss between the Doctor and a man in the history of Dr Who). He's a clone of himself because Eight lost the original Fitz 600 years in the future and then he joined cult of shitty time traveling mall goths. The original Fitz lived 2000 years and was filled with hate and wanted to kill the Doctor for abandoning him but never actually stopped loving them. He's a massive idiot. He's genuinely embarrassing so often but also despite thinking of himself as a coward and an asshole he's very brave despite his constant terror and very kind despite his pretending that he's only out for himself. He is such astoundingly perfect tumblr bait it's not even funny. He's one of the longest running companions in the franchise by number of consecutive stories.

Last of my darlings is the myth, the legend herself, Anji Kapoor. The first Asian companion in the history of Doctor Who, she's a stock futures trader from 2001 and to this day the only example I can think of off the top of my head of a woman of color having her white boyfriend get fridged for the sake of her emotional pain and character development. On the surface, she's the one with braincell, but she's so much more than just the white boy babysitter stereotype. She's a massive closet nerd who loves Star Trek but won't admit it, she's got a very weird thought process that makes her jump to the most absolutely batshit decisions while justifying them to herself as being perfectly reasonable and logical and not at all insane, she thinks of Fitz as a brother and the Doctor as a sister, she once called the Doctor a useless otterfucker, literally what can't she do (other than get back to her own time and planet rip).

The three of them have such a wonderful dynamic together. They're best friends and close family despite them being thrown together entirely by chance. They banter and joke and snark together, they riff off each other and enjoy each other's company, all three of them would catch a bullet for each other and all three of them more or less have. They're in a run of I think 25 books, which is a pretty significant time to spend together, and while there are some clunkers in their run ngl, they've also got some truly amazing books together, including one of my favorite books not just in the EDAs or Dr Who, but as a whole, The Year of Intelligent Tigers. I love them so so much I can't even.

I'm... not sure how accessible anything to do with the EDAs is give I fell off the DW deep end solidly a decade ago and at this point I just have to admit I'm in for life, but I have observed that most people who do read the EDAs tend to put 8&fitz&anji in at least their top five TARDIS teams, if not their first pick. Anyway, I love them, thank you so much for letting me gush about the best TARDIS team in all of Dr Who :D

[0hboyhowdy]

Prologue

Something small for me to dip my toes into writing :)

A bat family self indulgent insert lol. I've been building up this character in my head since before the pandemic, so this character is near and dear to my heart and I've decided to share as a reader insert for fun. Short for some back story, very little bat fam in this one.

839 words.

(Y/N) was a peculiar child. Nothing immediately alarming, soft eyes and smile. Polite, quiet, raised by their grandparents in a tourist town home to a cryptid legend. An old soul they were called, mature for their age to an off-putting degree. They spoke as if they humbly knew something you didn't know. For as long as they could remember they had a purpose, a nagging feeling in the back of their mind of something they couldn’t quite place.

Age 4, (Y/N) babbled about sounds for days on end. Their earliest memory, watching Papa making lunch in their outdated kitchen while sitting in a high chair and humming a tune only they could hear. The music was soft most days, their head swaying and soothing their mood. They weren’t a fussy baby, but when the music became loud there was nothing they could to do to console them. Distress and anger were volatile emotions in their child, Nan concluded, after picture frames flew off the walls and shelves shook. Her arms pricked and tingled where her bare skin touched (Y/N). Papa took to teaching the piano to soothe their tantrums.

Age 5, Nan brings them out into the woods.

Age 7, (Y/N) became fixated on the weather. Exact amounts of rainfall, clouds in the sky, hours of sun. Before it happened. They often refused to wear light clothes, even on the hottest days they still claimed to feel a chill crawling up their neck. Nan often caught them reaching to rub their neck whenever their weather outbursts occurred.

Age 8, they had exceptional spatial awareness. Nan attempted to catch them off guard numerous times and failed. No matter how quiet, (Y/N) knew. Nan used to get them geared up with her and train in the woods behind their house. Their favorite drill, in which they never lost, involved hunting down their grandmother a half hour after she entered the woods.

Age 9, (Y/N) spoke to themselves often. Their grandparents weren’t surprised by the new development but were wary of other people. On Sunday trips to the flea market, with their yield of corn for sale, they often had to scold (Y/N) for speaking to nothing in front of customers. When pestered once, they told stories of the customers' parents, who had long since passed.

Age 10, (Y/N) was allowed in the forest alone. They came back 8 days later. Pale and bloodied, with a raised red scar across their heart.

Age 12, (Y/N) wakes in a cold sweat months after Papa’s death. Bone-chilling fear coursed through their body as they stumbled out of bed and down the hallway. They knew before Nan, was shown in a dream, but too late to wake up. They found her sitting up in bed, the lamp beside her flickered when they stepped cautiously through the door. Nan spoke calmly, her hardened features now gaunt and dark.

“(Y/N) dear,” Tears silently tread down their face, and she patted the bed beside her “Come sit”. (Y/N) sat by her thigh and took her hand. One note of a piano endlessly rang through the house. “I trust I’ve done the best I could” Nan’s voice was hoarse “I hope my job is complete”. (Y/N) sat staring into her eyes, before being pulled into the longest and only hug they’ve ever received from her. A letter was pressed into their hands. The lamp light flickered out. The room was cold.

The small tourist town of Wester quit receiving sightings of their own urban legend. A stark white face stripped to the bone, large ram horns, razor-sharp talons, and a bipedal beast-like body, that leaves behind corpses of large animals. The Wester Vulture, laid tucked in bed, hair braided and pale-faced. The Wester Vulture sat on a bus with a letter clutched in hand, a suitcase, and a large survival backpack in the seat next to them. Their claw weapons sat at the bottom of the bag

Gotham was child's play compared to the Wester forest. Starving and roaming the streets was nothing compared to really fighting for your life. Homeless shelters were unsafe unless (Y/N) wanted CPS involved. Instead, the Angel of Death traveled the slums at night searching for their father. (Y/N) walked bruised during the day with the ram skull helmet tucked in their bag. They survived for 8 months on their own. Not a very good detective, but greatly intuitive.

The 8 months came to an end, face to face with their dad. A has-been sorcerer versus a vengeful spirit with his ex wife's face and wrath. The fight was long, but the end was quick. Quicker than The Batman, who watched the beast murder in cold blood.

Their claws weren’t fully clean of flesh before Batman engaged. The battle was unlike anything Bruce had experienced in a person, more akin to an animal. Swift and brutal, aiming to kill and forcing him on the defense. Vulture’s brutality was no match for his stronger armor and wealth. Bone helmet was cracked from the mouth, huffing out in frustration. In an instant Bruce was met with the face of a child.

[lover-of-mine]

✨ Fic Writing Review 2023 ✨

I was tagged by @wikiangela thank you ❤️

Words and Fics

110,652 words published to ao3 (I think it's less than that, I think the stats page counts the full length of this one fic but i only published 2 chapters of it this year so i think we can cut like, 55k of that total lol)

2 fandoms (911 and 5sos)

Most recent drop: all i ever wanted comes right down to you (911, 3k, G)

Longest fic: we just danced backwards into each other (5sos, 73k (and going), M)

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all i ever wanted comes right down to you (3k, G, No actually unrequited love)

what if one of these days i go and change your name (2.7k, G, Eddie really wants to marry Buck)

for everything we are (everything we’ve been) (9.5k, T, the lets talk about all the trauma fic)

in case you don't live forever (8.5k, T, Buck and Eddie get trapped in a collapsed building)

My fandom fic events in 2023

Didn't participate in any.

Upcoming Events and Projects for 2024

I have a few ideas, I have the new fic I've been posting about that I'm hoping to post in the next few weeks, I'm hoping to have the Buck breakdown fic, the elevator fic, and the divorced era done before season 7 starts (the focus out of the 3 is the breakdown fic tho), i am hoping the inspiration for the wayf fic comes back to me at some point. Also, I really wanna finish the missing scene fics that work as companions to the trauma fic, I had more ideas as I was writing the eddie begins one, so that one might end up being two fics, one from eddies pov and from bucks, and i have a few others pingponging around my head. I also have a fic that's based on my buck will drown speculation for season 7 getting more and more concrete in my head, so maybe I'll write that too. And I think that's all I'm working on right now. But honestly, every fic I try to plan ends up being way too hard, so I just go where the voices take me opskasokasoaks

No pressure tagging 🩷: @eddiebabygirldiaz @try-set-me-on-fire @honestlyeddie @sherlockcrossing @steadfastsaturnsrings @watchyourbuck @housewifebuck @daffi-990 @wildlife4life @giddyupbuck @captain-hen @vampbuckley @buckleyseddie

[oopsallmabari]

✨Self-Rec Tag Game ✨

tagged by @gaysebastianvael! very cool tag game, prob should take time to appreciate my own work more often lol

Rules: Share five of your own fanworks (fic, art, etc.). Then, tag five more people to share the things they’ve made.

Something you absolutely adore

ooh i think it'd have to be this pic of daithi--i've done a few portraits of him and i like to see how the way i've drawn him has evolved!

2. Something that was challenging to create

digital painting continues to be a bit of a bear for me, and i remember plugging away at this for ages. hoping to get better at it in the future :)

3. Something that makes you laugh/smile

muppet dorian is probably the silliest thing i have ever made. but i like him. still have plans to mupp-ify other DA characters. someday.

4. Something that surprised you

this one is kind of difficult! but i guess i'll link to my longfic with arya for this one, which i can't remember if i ever actually linked to on this blog lmao. it's surprising to me that anyone has read it if i'm honest and that i wrote that many words. it's also on hiatus rn as i am. fully rewriting it (snippet of the rewritten opening under the cut at the end).

5. Something you want other people to see

time to plug some of my oc work! zeke is an oc of mine from a personal WIP--currently in the very early drafting stages of an interactive fiction of which she is a cast member. she's one of my oldest ocs so i like to make ppl look at her. (this counts as a fanwork! i can be a fan of my own work!)

tagging w no pressure (sorry if you've already been tagged before lol)! @creaking-skull, @triflingshadows, @dreadfutures, @lavellander, @glamfellens

and a preview of frostbitten blades, the redux:

“You don’t have to leave.”

Malik says it with that kind uncertainty she’s grown so accustomed to, that she expects of an older brother. Sturdy yet soft, truthful and earnest, but tapering off at the ends. They’re seven years apart. It’s a lifetime. They’ve been worlds apart for so long.

He’s grown into this role so well, the thin, gold circlet nestled comfortably within his dreadlocked hair, the purple embroidered jacket shaped perfectly around his broad shoulders. All of his fineries are well-tailored. He must actually sit for his measurements now. He didn’t as a boy. Wouldn’t sit still unless Mother was hovering behind him. Now—he waits, holds meetings at the head of the table with quiet assurance, smiles warmly at visitors.

Currently, the smile is small, but it’s there, rounding his chestnut-brown cheeks. He doesn’t want to force it—she’s barely been at the estate, at his home, for a week. It’s the longest they’ve seen each other in seventeen years. She almost left earlier, without a word of goodbye, until the twins snuck up on her. Malik knows this. He hasn’t said anything, mercifully.

She’s so bad at coming up with responses lately. Malik knows this.