#maybe because they stole lunch box's lunch

[sadlynotthevoid]

I'm voting Box Lunch and Harriet Chin because they teaming up to uncover a case would be amazing, but boy, do I not desire a Lance Thunder fic where he ends up in the middle of serious stuff and has to solve it?

Again again!

Random spin wheel of DP characters for creating a headlining duo for an imaginary and probably never made ff story.

Boredom funsies!

Whichever sounds the most interesting/entertaining/whatever.

[devil-in-hiding]

STOP cause imagine when bully soap gets an injury and she helps him and he, grumpily thanks her and she gets emotional over it

please yes because the moment Price introduces you to the team, you and Soap are staring at each other, gobsmacked

He is still the same Johnny that he’s always been, loud and explosive, and you’ve seen a fair share of rookies come through from him pushing them in training.

You’re restocking ice packs when the door swings open, and Soap stumbles through, blood dripping down into his eye and his eyes are unfocused.

“Fuck sake’s Johnny!” You gasp, steadying him when he slumps against the wall. “Sergeant MacTavish.” He grunts, narrowing his eyes at you and you scoff. “What happened?” You demand, leading him over to a chair.

He mutters something, eyeing you wearily as you slip on a fresh pair of gloves, wetting a towel so you can clean up his face and the area surrounding the wound.

“Speak up.”

“Lass you’re toein’ the fuckin line-“

“I am your medic Soap. I have to know how you got this.” You snap, glaring at him even as you gently clean away the blood from his eye.

“One of the gun boxes wasn’t put away properly and it fell and hit me in the head, happy?” He barks, crossing his arms, the slightest hint of a pout on his face and you roll your eyes.

“Was that so hard?” You mumble, reaching for a zip suture.

You finish up in silence, double checking him for any other injuries, his chin in your hand as you tilt his head back and forth slowly. “Are you dizzy?”

“Will be if you don’t stop moving me around.”

“How’s your vision?” You frown, searching his eyes. They’re clearer than they were when he first stumbled in, focused.

Soap abruptly pulls away, and you’re surprised that his face is red. “‘M seein just fine..” He mutters, and you tilt your head.

“Well, it’s better you don’t fall asleep for a bit, and if you start feeling disoriented you’re gonna have to come see me again.” You explain as you start cleaning the station, and you can feel his eyes on you as you move around med.

“Is there anything else I can do for you Sergeant?” You ask, and the flush on his face darkens. Strange.

“No. I’m fine now just uh…” he trails off, muttering something under his breath and you sigh, crossing your arms. “You think after all these years you’d have grown out of that.” You observe, and his eyes shoot to yours.

“Thank you.” He blurts, and you freeze. “Thanks for uh.. for cleaning me up. Soft touch.” He’s tripping over himself, and you can only stand there, heart pounding.

You have known this man since the two of you were in primary, he use to shove you off the swings and squeal with glee, steal your homework assignments when he forgot his at home, stole SO many of your lunches.

You’re not sure what comes over you, maybe just the feeling of dejavu, but you feel tears pool in the corner of your eyes, and you see Soap panic.

“I thought you’d have grown of this!” He sputters, and you can’t help the laugh that spills out, shaking your head. “Shut up, I don’t even know why i’m crying.”

“Did you ever know why you were crying?”

“Yeah, you!” You laugh, wiping your cheeks as Soap finally cracks a smile. You smile back, and watch as he slowly stands. “You sure you’re okay?”

“Aye I’m good lass, thanks to you.” He grins, and your heart flutters. This is the Johnny you see with his team.

[h-ngm-nssluttt]

Deployment Birth

Jake Seresin One Shot

Pov: jake misses the birth of your baby while on deployment but the Dagger Squad makes sure they help you along the way.

The old saying goes ‘When you know you know’ and that was the truth for Jake Seresin. The moment he met Hazel it’s like the stars in his universe aligned as sappy as that sounds, but there was just something about her that made him simply… know.

When Hazel moved to North Island the last thing on her mind was finding someone to be in a relationship with but the universe on that one fateful night at the hard deck when she met up with her childhood friend Natasha Trace had other plans. Hazel wasn’t sure if it was the Southern drawl or the million dollar smile or maybe even the captivatingly gorgeous green eyes that stared deeply into hers like she was the only one in the room even though they were surrounded by the many patrons of the Hard Deck on a Saturday night, but Jake Seresin stole her heart that night whether she realized it right away or not.

The usual cocky, egotistical, womanizer Aviator everyone was used to had changed faster than they could blink. Cocky attitude was replaced with sweet nothings and compliments. Flowers on a random Tuesday just because and coffee runs on his lunch just so he could see you for 10 minutes. Jake Seresin was in love and he was in it deep.

They moved in together after dating for 9 months. She brought warmth and life to Jake's boring beige apartment which he loved. He loved the throw pillows that now adorned his couch, the scented candles that seemed to be in each room. The pictures that now hung on the walls, he loved it all. The engagement followed suit after a year and a half of dating and the wedding wasn’t too far behind. It felt like a whirlwind romance to everyone around them but they just simply knew. They were each other’s person, made for each other by the gods above so why waste anytime when you just simply know.

Hazel was not used to having a partner that actually put in effort. When they say “if he wanted to he would” Jake always wanted to. The smallest of things like doing the dishes, getting her shower ready to just the right temperature that he knew she liked. Having a glass of wine and her book ready for her on the coffee table after a long day of work so she could relax while he sat on the couch with her watching a muted tv with sports recaps on it just to spend time with her. He wanted it all. At first it scared her, but once she realized that Jake wasn’t like her past relationships she was in deep too.

2.5 years in a new journey was about to begin.

She stood in the bathroom staring at the test on the counter. 2 dark pink lines staring right back at her. She wasn’t convinced at first but the 5 tests she took told her otherwise, all showing the same result. She was pregnant. They were going to have a baby. She was growing something half Jake and Half her. She honestly couldn’t believe it. They weren’t actively trying but they decided that if it happened then so be it, and honestly, she couldn’t believe it happened.

The next week was spent going to the doctor’s office just to confirm that she was 100% pregnant (which she was). 5 weeks to be exact. Once she realized it was without a doubt positive she began trying to come up with a creative way to tell Jake.

She stood over the box on the kitchen island making sure it was perfect one more time before gently closing the lid just as she heard the door of Jake's truck close from outside their apartment. Hazel acted like she was busy tidying up the kitchen counter when she heard his boots thud across the hardwood floor as a hand wrapped around her waist from behind and a gentle kiss was placed to the top of her head.

“Hey sweetheart. How was your day?” I smiled as I turned around and faced Jake as I gently wrapped my arms around his neck

“It was good. Busy. How about you?” Jakes smile widened as he looked down at me

“Long and tiring. Was flying from the moment I got on base till it was time to leave”

“Sounds like it’s going to be relaxing on the couch and takeout kind of night?” He smiles as he leans down and places a soft kiss to my lips

“its like you read my mind sweetheart”

I smile as he removes his arm from around my waist and walks across the kitchen. I admire how good he looks in his khaki uniform. He always looks so good. It almost has to be a sin for someone to look that good. He stops at the sight of the box on the kitchen island

“What's this?”

“Just a little something for you” I smile as he looks at me almost confused as he looks back down at the box

“I’m not forgetting something am i?”

“no..go ahead and open it up”

I smile as I watch him look between the box and myself a few more times before slowly grabbing the lid and opening the box as I lean against the kitchen island, my eyes never leaving his face as he looks at the contents of the box. His hands grip the sides of the box as he intently stares at the small pair of aviator sunglasses and a small onesie that says “daddy’s wingman” with a jet underneath it. He quickly looks up at me and back down at the contents of the box multiple times before looking at me.

“are… are you. you’re”

I smile widely as I look at him nodding my head yes as he tries to form a complete sentence. Before I could even get a word out he closes the distance between us as he rounds the corner of the island and cradles my face in his hands as he stares into my eyes and quietly whispers

“we’re having a baby?”

“were having a baby” He leans down and places a soft but passionate kiss to my lips, resting his forehead against mine as he looks into my eyes

“I can’t believe this…. Were… were going to have a baby…”

I smile as I gently place my hands on his shoulders as he moves his hands to my waist as we stand there in the kitchen together. The smile never leaves his face as he slowly kneels down in front of me and rests his forehead against my stomach as he quietly whispers something I can’t fully make out to my stomach. Excitement settling between the two of us as the realization that our greatest adventure together was about to begin in a short 9 months.

They say pregnancy is supposed to be a happy time in a couple’s life… and I suppose that’s true if your husband is not in the military. Nothing can ruin the happiness of a pregnancy like the word ‘deployment’… a 6-month deployment at that. 6 months which happens to be the amount of time that I have left in my pregnancy. 6 months that will be cutting it close to the due date of our baby, if the baby comes on time that is. 6 months of experiencing everything alone. 6 months of sending updates and pictures through letters as often as we can send them. 6 months and the chance that Jake will miss the birth of our baby…

Jake, Payback and Fanboy got the orders a week ago and they leave in 2 days. Those two days were spent barely leaving our bed. Jake's hand never leaves my stomach, caressing the very small baby bump that has formed. Two days of him talking to our baby telling them that they had to wait for him to come home before coming into the world.

“Everyone says that the first baby comes late as long as everything goes well”

I lay there running my fingers through jakes hair as he rests his forehead against my bare stomach running his thumb against the small bump

“I really hope they are right… I can’t miss this.. I just..” he sighs as he places a kiss to my stomach

“I just really need you to wait for daddy to get home… just hang on tight in there for me please”

“We will do our best honey”

The send off was a crying fest. Natasha had to drive me home and ended up spending the night to make sure I was okay. The Dagger squad tried to make this deployment as easy as possible on me as they could. Every Monday Bob came over for dinner. On Tuesdays Bradley and I went grocery shopping together to ensure I didn’t have to lift anything on my own. Wednesdays Natasha and I went to a yoga class. Thursdays Javi came over and mowed the lawn and helped with anything I needed done, and on Friday’s we all went out for dinner and ended the night at the Hard Deck together where I would sit and sip on water while we all went on with our lives. Well they went on with their lives like normal. I felt like I was on autopilot going through the motions each day.

Penny went with me to all of my dr. appointments and has been giving me some parenting advice here and there from when she had Amelia. Everyone made sure I wasn’t alone even though I felt like I was a majority of the time. I made sure to take video’s of our appointments so he can see them when he returns home. The sound of the baby’s heartbeat, the black and white screen showing our little baby moving around.

Every Monday I wrote Jake a new letter with a picture to show how much my belly was growing. With each letter I felt like my heart broke more and more. Each letter included something new about my pregnancy, like how I went to the appointment to find out the gender but refused to know what the baby was until Jake was home. Another one was about how I felt that baby kick for the first time. Another was how hard it was starting to get comfortable because my stomach was so big I could only fit in Jake's shirts anymore and waddle around like a penguin.

Another letter was simply just a list of names for either gender that we liked, eventually deciding on a name for either or that we felt would fit perfectly for our baby.

Each letter was met with a response about how he wishes he was there to experience everything with me. How guilty he feels that he is missing everything and the dreaded line of ‘I still don’t have an exact date as to when I will be home’ that one gets me every time and usually brings me to tears as it feels like the closer and closer I get to our due date that the reality of me having to do this alone is become more and more real as each day passes. And being 4 weeks away from our due date really made that fear a reality.

Each day this week I texted everyone the same excuse ‘you won’t need to come over today. I’m not feeling well. Super tired’. In reality I laid in our bed snuggled into one of jakes sweatshirts clutching onto his pillow as I laid their and slept and cried all week long. Friday night rolled around and I was laying in bed watching some crappy reality show when I heard footsteps and saw Bob, Natasha, Bradley and Javi standing in my hallway. Natasha walked into the room and knelt down by the side of my bed as I looked at her with my tired and red rimmed eyes

“We pieced it all together when we got to dinner tonight. You aren’t sick”

“I mean I am sick.. I’m sick of this deployment…” and that’s all it took before the tears started flowing again as Natasha tried to console me.

“I’m so scared… Each day passes and it becomes more and more real that…. That he’s not going to be here… I’m going to be doing this alone… I can’t do this alone.. I .. he … I can’t”

After crying for a solid hour, I fell asleep as Natasha sat on the bed with me trying to calm me down. Bob, Bradly and Javi cleaned up the apartment and went to the store to ensure I had enough food in the apartment for next 2 weeks and picked up dinner from my favorite Chinese place to try and cheer me up.

We spent the rest of Friday night all crowded in Jake and I’s bedroom. Natasha and Bradley crammed onto the bed with me while Javi and Bob settled onto the floor by the bed. If it wasn’t for this group of friends right here I honestly don’t think I would have made it through this.

The week of the baby’s due date approached fast and Natasha refused to let me be alone. She took up residency on the couch in case I needed anything or god forbid the baby decided to come. This week felt agonizingly slow. Like my body knew it needed to hold on but unfortunately it had other plans. 3 days before our due date I was standing in the kitchen making myself breakfast when I felt it… my water broke. I stood there with wide eyes and I stared at Natasha who was sitting at the kitchen island. It didn’t take long for the tears to cascade down my cheeks as I realized this was it… I silently cursed my body for not holding on longer to even give the slightest chance that Jake could have made it home in time.

72 hours of intense labor later and the Dagger squad crammed into a tiny hospital room, Sonny Amelia Seresin made her appearance and my god did she look just like her daddy, green eyes and all. After a brief hospital stay we made it home and two weeks later we got the call that Jake would be coming home.

The Dagger squad and I made our way to the dock to welcome Jake, Reuben and Jay home. Sonny was curled up against my chest as I stood there frantically searching through the sea of people just trying to catch a glimpse of that familiar head of sandy blonde hair and green eyes. Natasha placed her hand on my shoulder and pointed and as soon as I followed the direction her finger was pointing I saw him. The instant our eyes met it felt like the first night we met all over again. It was like we were the only two there even though there were hundreds of people there. His eyes drifted to the tiny bundle curled up against my chest and I could see the tears from here. It’s like the world was moving in slow motion as he made his way to us. The second he made it to us one hand was placed on my waist the other on my cheek as he leaned down and placed a kiss on my lips as his tears fell on to my cheeks. I love you whispered between the two of us before he pulled back and gently removed his hand from my cheek and gently ran a finger over his daughters’ tiny cheek and ran his hand gently over her tiny tuft of sandy blonde hair on her head. The second she was in his arms he placed a small kiss to her forehead as she snuggled into his chest and greeted his daughter for the first time with tears in his eyes.

“Hi my Sonny girl… Daddy loves you so so much”

Those words were the beginning of our new adventure together. A deployment may have gotten in the way but everything fell right back into place the second our eyes met when he got off that carrier. The stars in our universe aligned again and you could tell Jake Seresin was in love and he was in it deep with the way he looked down at his baby girl.

[angel-of-the-moons]

Your Beanies are My Babies, too

Steven Grant x Reader (Implied Marc & Jake x Reader)

TW/CW: None!

Summary:

Steven makes sure you know nothing is too silly or childish for him if it makes you happy.

A/N: This came to me because unpacking some things I found the few Beanie Babies I have! Including my sweet lil froggy I thought my sister stole :')

You sighed as you closed the little plastic tote, your shoulders sagging with guilt as you prepared to stuff the container on the top shelf in the back of the closet.

"What's wrong, love?" Steven asked curiously as he carefully placed your clothes in the freshly emptied drawers in the dresser.

You had decided to make everything more official in your relationship by moving in together. Steven's place was bigger than yours, and with some TLC and cleaning, it was plenty big for your stuff as well.

"Oh, it's... it's nothing, don't worry about it." You reply, your smile strained and not quite reaching your eyes. He noticed, but didn't say anything.

Instead, he nodded and smiled back, his dark eyes twinkling, "Right, then. Let's stop and make lunch, yeah? Been at this all morning!"

Steven set the empty cardboard box atop the dresser, and wiped his hands dramatically free of imaginary dust, "You hungry?"

Your smile widened just a bit, genuine mirth taking hold at the thought of one of his delicious veggie wraps. "I'm starving."

He didn't mean to be nosey. He really, really, truly, absolutely didn't!

It's just that you looked so... forlorn when you looked inside the tote. Steven got curious and merely wanted to see what had upset you so.

What he didn't anticipate, was rather cute, small, and well-loved toys! "Beanie Babies"; Marc had told him. "But why keep them in a tote?"

"I d'nno." Steven mumbled softly. "Bad memories? Gifts from a dead relative?"

Jake spoke up. "Well, whatever the case, maybe we should put them back--"

"Oooh! Look at this one! It's a hippo!" Steven cooed at the cute, purple little toy. "This one is called "Happy the Hippo"... And his birthday is..." He said as he read the colorful heart-shaped tag.

"Steven?" Your voice barked.

He jumped and dropped the little toy, his face lighting with a scarlet hue at being caught snooping.

"I--I--" He stammered.

"Wh-why are you..." You paled, beginning to feel a surge of panic sweep through you. The last time this happened....

"Hey, hey! It's okay." Steven said, quickly climbing to his feet to rush over to you. He rubbed your arms up and down as you pressed the heels of your palms to your eyes.

"Please don't be mad..." You say, biting back a soft sob.

"M... Mad?" He blinked, "Why on earth would I be mad at you? I'm the one who went through your things without permission!"

You look into his eyes; not picking up on a single hint of malice or mockery there, all you could see was... concern and sympathy?

"My--my B-Beanie Babies..." You blubber softly, looking over to the tote he'd been looking into.

"Y-yeah? What about them?" He asked, trying to follow your train of thought.

"My... My exes, they..." You sniffle. "They said they were stupid. That they were stupid little kid toys and as an adult I shouldn't have them..."

You swallow, "M-my ex boyfriend before you... He tried to throw them away because he said they were dumb... I've had most of them since I was little. I've taken good care of them, and..."

"Oh, love..." He breathed. "Did you think I'd have a problem with your collection? Is that why you're so scared?"

"I.... Yeah."

"Well, in case you haven't noticed... I have quite the collection myself." Steven giggled, looking around at his stacks of books, museum paraphernalia, bits and baubles... "Why would you think I'd have a problem with your Beanie Babies?"

"I... Everyone says they're a stupid hobby, that they're for kids--" You say hastily, as if trying to defend those that insulted something so precious to you. And that hurt him.

He leaned in and kissed your forehead affectionately, "Sweetheart, they're adorable. I didn't have Beanie Babies growing up. Mum was... Well. Things like that were for "girls"..."

"So you... Like them?" You ask hopefully.

"I love them!" He chirped cheerfully. "Why don't we get them out of that dreary old tote and put them on a special little shelf? Give them a view? Maybe they could overlook the fish tank!"

You sniffle again and nod, smiling gratefully as you wipe at your cheek. "Yeah... Yeah. We... We can do that?"

"Yep!" He kissed your cheek, "Because your Babies are my Babies... They're charming and cute... Now let's clear off a shelf for them!"

You watched, your heart squeezing so sweetly in your chest as he began to precariously climb atop his desk (and almost fell) to prepare the new place for your special collection.

Why did you ever think he'd make fun of you?

[wlntrsldler]

soldier, poet, king | luke castellan

song: soldier, poet, king by the oh hellos

warnings: not canon compliant, struck by inspiration and wrote this in one sitting so it's kinda just me rambling

i. the soldier

luke grew up a gentle child. he was the type of child who showed mercy at everything, at everyone, even when he knew that he held more power than them. and he did have more power than them.

from a young age, he knew he was different. he just didn't know how or why. it wasn't like he could just ask his mother why locked doors suddenly unlocked when he touched the knob, or why he always seemed to get away with stealing an extra cookie at the lunch line, or why he seemed to understand people who gossiped in other languages. not only were these odd talents to have (and yes he used odd because that's what his classmates used to call him) and his mother would probably not know the answers anyway, but his mother was unreliable at best.

luke was a quiet child. he never talked about what life at home was like and nobody ever asked him. after all, he showed up to school showered, dressed, and fed. there were no red flags there. he didn't blame the school for not knowing his living situation. how could they know? but sometimes, nine-year-old luke castellan wished someone bothered to ask.

maybe if they did, luke would tell them about how his mother talked to herself in the middle of the night and seemed to argue with the pictures on the walls. maybe if they did, luke would tell them that his mother didn't recognize him sometimes and that she would scream at the top of her lungs until her body grew tired then she'd sit still at the kitchen table until the sun rose.

or maybe he wouldn't. he didn't want to be a bother to anyone.

luke had never hurt anything until he was nine. up until then, he used to scoop up spiders on a piece of paper and release them into the world. it felt wrong to kill them so he never did. he used to watch his steps on the way home from school in fear of accidentally killing a centipede on the sidewalk. he used to leave food on the porch for the stray animals that passed by his neighborhood.

luke grew up a gentle child. until he fled home.

the first time luke killed something was when he was roaming the forests of massachusetts. he ran out of food days ago and was surviving on the honey bun an old lady at the gas station bought for him. it wasn't the healthiest option, but she assumed that he was starving from a long day at school and took pity on him. luke said his thanks and returned to his journey.

he could see the sun beginning to set behind the trees. in another life, he'd be watching the sunset in a tent with his mom. it would've been a family camping trip. he took a bite of the now stale honey bun and imagined it was a gooey marshmallow that his mom helped him roast over the campfire. as he crumpled the plastic, he heard it-- a scream from a girl.

luke's eyes widened and he raced to where the sound came from, reaching for the pocket knife he stole from the box his mom kept hidden in the attic. she never let him up there, but as luke was packing his things to leave, something told him to disobey his mother.

he found you with your back against a tree, terrified, with a dog-like creature snarling at you. it had two heads, glowing eyes, and what seemed like a million teeth. it turned its heads to look at luke, and the smile that dawned on its face was haunting. luke fumbled with the pocket knife and watched in amazement as it grew into a sword, both silver and gold, and seemed to illuminate underneath the descending rays of the sun.

luke stumbled in his steps as he held the sword tightly in his small hands and he swung. the dog barred its teeth, no doubt upset that luke was putting up a fight. his technique was nonexistent. he just swung and swung until he managed to lay a blow on the creature, and when he'd done enough damage, luke pierced the sword between the dog's two heads and watched it vanish into thin air.

luke dropped the sword by his feet, trying to catch his breath. he'd almost forgotten that you were there, that he did all that to save someone else. it wasn't until you placed a hand on his shoulder that luke was pulled back to life.

"thank you," you whispered. luke got a good look at you then. tear streaks down your face, hair a mess in two thick braids on either side of your head, and eyes that seemed hollow, though the will of wanting to survive fought to keep the traces of you there. "you saved my life."

luke looked down at his feet to find the pocket knife back in its original form. he bent down to pick it up, hands still trembling as he stuffed it in his back pocket. he wiped his sweaty palms against the fabric of his jeans, "i-i've never killed something before."

"me either," you gulped, nodding. "i'm y/n."

luke brushed his stray curls from his forehead, "luke."

ii. the poet

life at camp half blood became repetitive after a while. training, dinner, offerings, and repeat. luke was excited when he became the head counselor of the hermes cabin because at least he had something new to do. he no longer needed to follow you around to fill his time, though he'd be lying if he said he didn't miss spending so much time with you.

you'd been promoted as the head counselor of your own cabin months before luke, which was overdue in his opinion. you'd grown dependable, strong, and fearless over the years at camp. sometimes luke couldn't believe that you were the same girl who cowered against a hellhound all those years ago.

the life he had before he met you seemed like a lifetime ago, and in some ways, it was. eight years had gone by since he arrived at camp half blood. he's seventeen now. time had taken away many of his memories from his childhood.

"hey soldier," you greeted, bumping his shoulder with your own. "done with your list yet?"

"soldier," he greeted with a bright smile. "just about. want to tag along while i finish up?"

the nickname grew out of a morbid conversation the two of you had a few years ago. it was after you'd just gotten claimed by your parent, the night before you were due to move out of the hermes cabin. luke had found you sitting in the middle of the arena, your sword tossed carelessly on the floor. when you didn't show up to the cabin after lights out, luke knew he had to look for you.

"hey," luke approached you gently, taking the spot beside you. "everything ok?"

you lifted your head, craning your neck to look at him. you shook your head, "no."

his eyebrows furrowed in concern, "what's wrong?"

"i have a quest," you mumbled, tears welling up in your eyes. "that's why she claimed me."

for years, you found home in the hermes cabin. year by year, you admitted defeat, thinking that your parent would never claim you as theirs. it was painful, watching new arrivals get claimed by their parent while you watched on the sidelines, clapping in celebration. you faked smiles and niceties, but luke knew how much it hurt you.

he'd walk with you back to the hermes cabin and kept you company until you felt better. if he had it his way, he'd stay beside you forever, but he'll be content if he got to stay with you until you didn't want him to anymore. thankfully, that time hadn't come yet.

luke felt anger bubbling in his chest as he scoffed, "all these years... i'm sorry y/n. that's fucked up."

"it's okay, luke."

"it's not, though," he shook his head, "it's not okay that she only wants to claim you because she needs you. what about when you needed her, huh? all those years that she ignored you."

your shoulders deflated. luke was saying all the things you'd been repeating in your head since you've been claimed. "i know, luke, but that's just how the gods are."

"maybe that's the problem," he said. his anger kept increasing, his voice sharpening after each word. he thought about the worst-case scenarios if you left. you could get hurt. you could get trapped somewhere. you could die. the thought of it made luke sick. "maybe the gods need to get a taste of their own medicine. tell me you're not going on that quest."

"i have to."

"then i'll come with you."

you placed a hand on his thigh, "i can't ask you to do that."

"you're not asking. i'm offering."

"no, luke," you sighed, "as much as i would like you there, someone needs to stay here. someone needs to look after annie and the rest of the kids."

"and who's gonna look after you?"

"i'll be okay," you managed to smile, "i can hold my own now. i have the best teacher, remember?"

luke's eyes softened at your words. he'd been teaching you fighting techniques since he was dubbed the best swordsman of camp in centuries. everything he learned, he passed onto you. the life of a demigod was unpredictable outside the walls of camp half blood, and if there came a time when he wouldn't be around, he wanted to make sure you could fend for yourself.

he took your hand in his, tugging on your arm to pull you closer. once you were close enough, he wrapped an arm around you and placed his chin on the top of your head. "i know you can."

there was a silence that fell upon the two of you after that. the two of you sat there beside each other for a beat before you spoke again, "do you think they will ever change?"

"no," luke answered honestly. "we are not their children. we're soldiers to them."

as time passed, the truer those words became. he watched his friends, his siblings, return as a shell of themselves after their quest. he often wondered when he'd be called for his, though he was in no rush. some people were gone for weeks, months, sometimes years, and he couldn't fathom being apart from you for that long.

as he snapped out of his thoughts, you laced your fingers with his, "i'd love to join. i miss your siblings."

luke laughed, "they miss you too. i'm no longer their favorite now that i'm head counselor."

"that's because you never let them have fun," you joked, "fun is good. in moderation."

"hermes kids don't understand the word moderation."

"true," you giggled, running your finger across his knuckles. "chiron is looking for you, by the way. said it's urgent."

luke shrugged, placing a kiss on your temple, "i'm sure it can wait. wanna spend some time with you after finishing up. feels like i haven't seen you in ages."

"we just had breakfast and lunch together, luke," you cocked an eyebrow teasingly, though your grip on his hand tightened. "can't get enough of me?"

"you know the answer to that," he hummed, not deterred by your tone. he never kept it a secret that he'd follow you to the ends of the world if you asked. "but we haven't gotten time with just us two in a while. would like to be able to kiss my girlfriend without campers saying ew."

"the ew's don't seem to bother you that much because you do it anyway."

luke stopped, untangling your fingers so he could hold your face in his hands. he placed a long kiss on your lips, one that left you breathless. "like you said, i can't get enough of you."

iii. the king

the waters were rough tonight. princess andromeda rocked harshly against the current, but luke remained unmoving at the front of the ship. he stared out into the dark waters, thinking back on the memories he had left. kronos was slowly chipping away at all of them, but he held tightly on certain ones because he didn't want to forget.

all of the memories were of you-- the way your skin flushed red after hours training in the arena, the way your hair fell in a tangled mess when you let your hair down, the sound of your laughter when he kissed your neck and his curls tickled your skin. these were things he would fight to remember.

luke thinks a fate more cruel than death would be to forget you.

tomorrow would mark a year since he left camp half blood to lead kronos' army, a year since he last saw you. it seemed trivial to him now to think about the 'what-if's' of his quest, thinking about all that time he would spend without you, only to have it happen anyway. only this time, he knew for certain he wouldn't return again.

life on the ship was vastly different from camp half blood. luke never thought that he'd miss the boring routine, but he did. the only thing that stayed the same was that he remained in power. in camp half blood, he was respected, seen as the leader of the pack. and here, the same can be said. he was kronos' right hand, and until the titan was able to attain his physical form, luke was in charge.

he was the captain of the ship. he was the king. he would bring glory to the demigods.

in the distance, a faint light appeared. luke squinted as he tried to make out the object slowly coming closer. he turned to enter the ship, the room falling silent when he opened the door.

"there's something out there."

chris stood up, approaching luke. he was the only one who dared to address him and luke preferred it that way. chris was his brother. he didn't know the rest of them well.

chris cleared his throat, "we just got word from someone on the inside that they're sending some people to attack us."

"so that's what's out there," luke clenched his jaw, "who did they send?"

"percy, annabeth," chris gulped, "and y/n."

for a moment, luke's demeanor faltered. were you really on your way to fight him? is that what your relationship had come to? luke bit his tongue, trying to control his emotions. he crossed his arms across his chest, "change course now."

another one of the demigods stood up, a puzzled expression on his face, "what? there's only three of them. they're outnumbered. we can take them."

"did i stutter?" luke snarled, "i said change course."

"it doesn't make sense to. changing course will set us back at least. a day!"

"are you in charge?" luke questioned. in his heart, he knew he would pay for this later on. once kronos hears that luke changed the plans without his knowledge, he would suffer but he thinks that whatever torture kronos has in store for him would be less painful than seeing you again.

you were fighting the same war, but you stood on different sides. it was something luke still had trouble coming to terms with.

the boy shook his head, cowering in fear as he made his way out of the room to relay luke's orders to the others. luke turned around and pinched the bridge of his nose before walking back out to the front of the ship. he held onto the railing as the ship turned right, his body jerking with the motion. he always did seem to lose his composure when it came to you. as the ship sailed away, he watched the light he saw in the distance fade into the darkness.

[happypartytrain]

apollo had somebody who loved him enough to send him away to somewhere with people he doesn’t know, food he doesn’t like, holidays he doesn’t understand, and a promise that was as worthwhile as candy. it’s so, so sweet for a moment, but then it is gone — gone beyond his realm of understanding, blood shed while he lays awake feeling betrayed.

the days go by and suddenly you’re taller, stronger, and not really cute anymore

kids are so mean when you’re learning to be nice

they take your things because you’re smaller than them and hold them so high you have to stretch yourself until every muscle is screaming

they talk about their dads, they talk about their plans, they talk about their clubs, they talk about their girlfriends, they talk about sports, they talk about school, they talk about how useless you are on their dodgeball teams

but while it never stops, he’s brave enough to get your mother’s bracelet back from the kids that stole it. his timid face and his crooked bandage atop his nose warp into something unrecognizable. he’s so shy, so sad, so scared of life yet enamored by it — yet he pushes them over and before you know it you’re both high-tailing it out of the courtyard with bloody noses and their lunch boxes.

you’re crying. he’s crying. he jokes about stealing their cosmic brownies so that you don’t cry. you cry harder. you know they won’t snitch, but you’re a little scared of what’s to come. still, you promise to protect him, just like you have for the last few years. just like he protected you.

and you’ll see it until you die. you’ll see the light in his eyes, the gap in his teeth, the way he only smiles for you and his cheeks squeeze his eyes half shut

you’ll wake up one day and realize you can’t hear his voice anymore, but his smile is just as bright as the day you lost him

how could you even begin to think anyone, anyone at all, could remotely understand? how could you ever find solace in someone that isn’t him? how could you reintroduce yourself in the hopes of reliving at least a shred of that high, of being known, of learning how to be american, of hearing him burp in restaurants and then egg you on to try to do it louder, of spending late nights out when your parents couldn’t care, of stealing his clothes, of keeping his secrets, of this and that when there are wounds in you bleeding from everywhere he once touched? no one will ever love you enough to try to learn how the heck to make congee like you had over a decade ago when you can’t even remember what it tasted like. no one will ever love you enough to memorize the stars in your zodiac first when he had a full lifetime to absorb it all. no one will ever love you enough to protect you, not anymore. in a way, maybe that was the lesson you should have learned the second you got off that plane when you were so small and skinny you could barely hold onto your bag. this is the real world and no one will be there for you. no one will ever perfectly learn the shape of you.

but, with these wounds clawing you apart and the stars always watching, you vow to be all that and then some. you’ve got splinters in your hands from that damn prop dragon, you’re running out of pens because you keep trying to make it through the loops in her hair bow, you always get a large soda ‘cause someone in this weirdly close office is gonna chug half of it, and you always give it your all to paint the world screaming neon & clear up the clouds in the sky.

you love despite it all, all because he loved despite it all

[ashwhowrites]

Hi, lovely Ash!

So I had this smutty and (kind of) cute request for Eddie. Like the reader is somewhere in the gray area where she isn't bullied but not among the most popular either but she has seen how the popular gang treats Eddie - they buy his weed and then scream as he walks past because he's the devil. So she tells him she wants to buy from him but when she gets to the picnic table she instead kisses him and starts going down on him saying "I just thought you deserved some good, for once".

Can go to full on smut or not, up to you :)

Hi, one of my favorite people ever with their excellent requests! I hope this is what you were looking for and you like it <3

Never proofread

Deserving

Y/N wasn't part of the popular crowd, she couldn't stand their arrogant attitudes and how fake they were. But she wasn't a target for them, she hid in the shadows and not many paid attention to her. Which she preferred.

Eddie Munson was a loner like she was, but sadly he was one of their main targets. She always felt bad for him. They only talked to him when they wanted weed from him. Being polite during deals but mocking him in the halls. She admired how he always brushed it off, but she knew some of it he took to heart.

She couldn't lie, he was incredibly attractive. His long hair, dark eyes, and lips always curved in a smirk. She fantasized about his hands and his fingers covered in rings. He was gorgeous.

She wasn't sure why she found herself wanting to make a move on him. Maybe she was tired of feeling bad for him and wanted to give him something he could enjoy. Or maybe she was tired of craving him.

She walked to his small table in the woods, he sat with a smile as she approached. He began to empty out his lunch box, setting out the different amounts of weed. But she kept staring at him and walked around the table. Eddie was confused as to why she was standing right next to him, instead of sitting across from him.

"What's up?" Eddie asked

"Not here to buy weed, Eddie." She smiled, "Stand up."

He followed her demand, still confused. He stood up and was now facing her. He went to question her again but her lips met his. She looped her fingers through his belt loops and yanked him closer. Eddie's mind was racing, but he felt himself sinking into the kiss.

He realized he hadn't kissed her back. He wrapped his arms around her waist and followed her lead. He matched her pace and hungrily kissed her back. He never thought of kissing her, and he hated how much he has been missing out.

Once she pulled away, she giggled as his eyes were still closed. She didn't wait for his reaction when she began to unbuckle his belt and dropped to her knees.

That snapped Eddie out of his daydream, "Woah, what are you doing?" He asked nervously, his eyes looking around as if someone could be watching them. But he didn't find himself wanting to stop her.

"You don't deserve the way you've been treated. You're hot, funny, smart, and you deserve some good in your life. Let me make you feel good?" She asked, pulling his jeans down to his ankles as he stood above her, staring at her with wide eyes.

He nodded as fast as he could, not trusting his voice. Was she really about to suck hi-yeah, yeah she was definitely sucking his dick in the middle of the woods.

He tried to make sure his knees didn't buckle when she gagged on him. His hands dove into her hair as he closed his eyes. He has never felt this good in his life. He's jacked off to porn, but his hand has never made him feel this good. His mind went blank, he wasn't worried about anyone catching them, he didn't care if he was caught with his dick down her throat. Fuck, he didn't even care if someone stole all the weed that sat on the table. As long as nothing interrupted the bliss he was feeling right now.

He looked down at her, she was already watching him. His heart raced at the sight. She looked beautiful. Her eyes were slightly watering as she worked on taking him down her throat even further. He wanted to capture this moment in his head, remember how she looked on her knees for him. He'd never use porn again, just the memory of this moment.

"Shit...gonna." He warned, moving to take him out of her mouth, but she chased after him. Planting her hands on the back of his thighs, forcing him not to move. She didn't slow down, it was like she was draining him.

Before he knew it, he was cumming down her throat, his mouth dropping as silent moans left. His hands clenched her hair in a tight grip as he bucked his hips through his orgasm. Panting as she cleaned him off, wiping her mouth as she pulled his jeans back up.

He stared at her in awe, silently watching as she buckled his belt and dusted off her knees. She smiled and pecked his lips, his own cum landing on his lip.

She waved as she walked off, and Eddie was frozen watching after her.

Did he just fall in love?

tags!

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @manyfandomsfanvergentreblogs @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93

[yuri-is-online]

Ngl, Aceyuu has me in a chokehold right now. Now imagine this:

Yuu's been learning how to improve their cooking and baking so they and Grim don't have to stick to eating the same ol' food everyday. After successfully making their first successful dish, which is chicken pasta bake, they decided to kick it up a notch. Salads, meat dishes, soups, pastries and desserts, the Ramshackle duo are eating good. So, why not make lunch for the both of them to bring to school?

The first years look in awe when they see the delicious lunches Grim and Yuu are eating. Ace, however, has his eyes set on Grim's dessert: a slice of cherry pie. But just before he can grab it, Grim's already chowing down on the pie before trying to take some of Ace's food. Yuu, of course, scolds Grim and gives him one if their cranberry white chocolate buns to tame him. Noticing Ace's expression, it didn't take long for them to put two and two together. So, they ask for the first years to come over to Ramshackle for dinner. While the first years are talking excitedly, Yuu throws Ace a wink, confusing him.

At Ramshackle, the dining table was full of dishes: grilled chicken, vegetable stir fry, shish kabobs, and more. When it was time for dessert, everyone was on the edge of their seats until Yuu came out with different desserts for each first year. Mini egg tarts for Deuce, pear compote with vanilla ice cream for Jack, spiced apple muffins for Epel, double chocolate cookies for Sebek, custard pudding for Grim, and Yuu has strawberry gelato. To their shock, Ace doesn't have any dessert which bums him a little. Though, to be fair, he is super full so he probably has no room for dessert at the moment. But Yuu, ever the friendly soul, let's Ace eat some of their gelato.

Before they leave, Yuu asks Ace to stay behind because they have something to gift him. They hand him a box tied with a red ribbon and tell him to open it when no one's looking. He's confused but he complies.

Back at Heartslabyul, Ace opens up the box to find what's inside: beautiful mini black forest cakes arranged into a heart shape. Ace, who's a little hungry, snacks on the cakes while feeling all giddy.

annon this is a whole meal (⊙_⊙) and I had to make sure I had a whole meal before I let myself look at this ask, people extensively describing food makes me hungry (－－；

I would make one mini addition to your little scenario, cherry pie is listed as Ace's favorite food, so it makes a bit more sense for Yuu to give him something like that... especially since that's what he wanted from Grim in the first place! Maybe it could be something like these heart shaped cherry hand pies? And Yuu gives him one little black forest cake for desert so it doesn't seem like they are singling him out too much, I mean sure Ace is their favorite but they can't tell the other boys that!!! They need to make up some sort of excuse, maybe they stole found a pencil of his they need to give him so they ask him to stay behind so they can get it for him... and Ace "sighs" and agrees to, acting like he's soooo inconvenienced while the other first years exchange a look and book it so they don't have to deal with you two.

Ace would be so stupid embarrassed if you made him cherry pie. It's his favorite, you know him and see him. Making food for someone is a pure and heavenly form of love, and you had to think about what you wanted to make for each of them and thought long enough about him to make him something extra. It's so touching he can;t even bring himself to gloat about it, but he will thank you for the food.

How can he be expected to get more otherwise?

[dodger-chan]

On this, a totally normal day, please enjoy this short scene featuring demon Steve Harrington:

“They’re con artists,” Steve asserted, rolling his eyes. “They’re nothing I need to worry about.”

It wasn’t that Eddie thought Steve was wrong. He’d read a book about their involvement in that possession and murder case in Connecticut five years back. It had certainly read more like fiction to him.

It was just that demons tended towards overconfidence. Or at least Steve did. Maybe that was more of a jock thing than a demon thing.

“You’re bound to the mortal plain by a two-bit ring from a Crackerjack box,” Robin snarked. “Forgive me if I’m a little concerned.”

There was that, too.

“I’ll have you know that ring cost me fifty cents. It’s solid nickel,” Eddie joked. But he kind of agreed with Robin. The ring was a flimsy object, and entirely incongruous with Steve’s preppy look. Even if the couple weren’t practiced demon killers, the ring would be an obvious target.

“So that’s why my finger keeps turning green,” Steve mused. “Look, I can’t let this stand, but one of you can wear the ring until they’re gone, okay?”

-------

Which was how Edde found himself twisting his old ouroboros ring around his finger, sitting in a diner booth across from Robin. Stealthily watching the demon hunters eat their lunch. Waiting for Steve to arrive. The wait wasn’t long, but it was tense.

Steve ignored them when he walked in, only paying attention to the couple seated behind them. Robin leaned forward and stole some of Eddie’s french fries.

“I think we’re in trouble,” she whispered. She was only half joking. They weren’t supposed to be there; Steve didn’t want either of them associated with a demon. But Robin was not about to let Steve face even fake demon hunters completely alone. And - coward or not - neither was Eddie.

He shushed her, keeping an eye on Steve as he sat down at the hunters’ table.

“I read the contract you signed with Susan Mayfield. Book rights to her daughter's story for a flat fee? Seriously? My deals are more fair.” Steve was facing away from them, so Eddie had to imagine the smug expression on his face. The older couple looked confused.

“Your deals?” The man asked, like maybe he hadn’t put it together yet.

“I’m sitting here right in front of you and you still have no idea.” Steve shook his head. “And you call yourself demon hunters. I knew you were just con artists.”

Understanding dawn on the woman first.

“You’re the demon,” she said, fear in her voice. “The one who killed those kids.”

“I am a demon. But no, I haven’t killed any kids in Hawkins,” Steve corrected. “Those three dead kids, the Mayfield girl’s injuries, that really was a human. People can be evil all on their own, you know.”

“Why should we believe you?” the man asked. He didn’t appear as afraid as his wife, but Eddie was an expert on posturing. The guy was about thirty seconds away from shitting his pants.

“Believe, don’t believe. I don’t give a fuck. I’m not here to keep you from writing your little book and ripping off the American public with your absolutely true demon stories.” Eddie would bet good money Steve was rolling his eyes. “I’m here about this.”

Robin nearly turned around to see what Steve was holding even though she knew what it would be. Eddie kicked her ankle and she turned back.

“You see,” Steve went on, “I made a deal with the Mayfield girl’s brother. It means I owe her a certain amount of protection. So this contract you sweet-talked her mom into signing? We’re going to rework the terms. I’m thinking percent off the gross?”

-----------

Notes:

"that possession and murder case" refers to the Arne Johnson murder trial, where the defense tried to argue the killer had been possessed by a demon. The book was titled The Devil in Connecticut and published in 1983. It's also the inspiration for one of the Conjuring films.

Allegedly (and I'm not doing enough research to confirm it because this six hundred word story has enough notes already) the Warrens paid people flat fees for the rights to their stories and then made bank themselves off of books and films about the 'hauntings' and 'possessions.' Frankly, everything I've read about them makes them sound like unscrupulous con artists.

"two-bit ring from a cracker jack box" is a reference to a Firesign Theatre sketch (The Further Adventures of Nick Danger) released in 1969; Robin knows it from her parents.

Two-bit means cheap in general, but also two-bits refers to a quarter, so when Eddie says he paid fifty cents for the ring he's saying it cost twice as much as Robin implied (still pretty cheap)

I doubt Eddie knows for sure what alloy any of his rings are made of, but cheap jewelry often contains nickel, and nickel can turn your skin green.

"percent off the gross" is revenue percentage rather than a percentage of the profit, so Max can't be cheated out of money via creative accounting.

[pedrostylez]

Before Mi Luz

pairing: Javier Peña x fem!reader

summary: reader and Javier are coworkers that typically hate each other, but find each other helpful in relieving that stress

rating: 18+ (no minors please)

word count:4.6k

warnings etc: smut, dirty talk, unprotected p in v sex, pet names… NO USE OF Y/N.

A/N: This is the prologue to my first writing “Mi Luz” with Javi and reader. There's some context and then a dirty ending…if I have misspelled anything or whatever please tell me omg

You were carrying your box of personal items, ready for your job to start. Did you know any Spanish? No. Did you know anyone that you were working with? No. But…they had recruited you for your organization and for your ability to remember things, and that alone gave you some confidence that you didn’t originally have.

Your first day would have gone off without any issues if you hadn’t bumped into the first person you saw as soon as you entered the building. It was the damn heels you thought you had to wear, but after today you would make the argument that you were more efficient without them. No one was hurt, but you were startled, and as you went to apologize a gruff voice said “watch it.”, which you would come to find out later was Peña. You scoffed, and continued on to your office that you had been shown the previous day. That must have been the only time you would see him…right? The embassy was big, and for all you knew, you would never see him again. 

You had never yelled at anyone before-not like this. Sure, maybe at your younger sister when she stole something from your room, or at your dad when he had drank too much and hurt your mom, but you really truly weren’t like this. You were infuriated beyond measure, to the point of almost crying. And you knew plenty of people who cried when they were angry, but you weren’t one of them. You stood your ground, said your piece, and it would end there-someone would be declared a winner. Even when they tried to stoop low and make you hurt, say things that normal people wouldn’t say, you never lost your cool. 

But fighting with Peña was different. He was in your space, fucking around with your files when you had gone on lunch, and now you were screaming at each other. He was stooping lower than anyone else you had ever met, grinding every gear and just getting under your skin. Couldn’t he leave well enough alone?

Peña didn’t know how it started at all-he had come in here to ask you a question and you were missing. He waited 10 minutes exactly, until 1 pm when lunch ended for administrative staff, and when you didn’t return he started rifling through what he assumed would give him answers. Of course, it didn’t, and so he started opening more boxes. 

He didn’t hear you come in, because unlike the other girls in the office you wore either flats or tennis shoes. He teased you about it, seeing as it was not considered protocol, but you didn’t like it when he spoke to you and he didn’t necessarily get why. 

And now you were screaming at him and he was matching your energy. He needed intel and you weren’t here, what was he supposed to do? Let them get away?

You were arguing that he could have fucking called you, or had gone to the cafeteria where you had your lunch. But how the hell was he supposed to know that? Was he supposed to crawl around on his knees and wander around and beg you to help? 

He could see the fire behind your eyes, almost as if you were blacking out this argument, and it only fueled him more. You wanted to be angry? He could be just as angry. 

And when Murphy came in to break it up, Peña was pushed out of the room and heard muffled sobs. Man, had he really been that aggressive? But you started it! He could hear Murphy cooing at you to calm you down, telling you that Peña was wrong to speak to you that way. He was asking you what Peña had asked you-for the exact same intel. The way that you blindly gave it to Murphy so that only a few minutes later that blonde-headed asshole came out into the hallway to shake his head at Peña and shove the file in his chest, made Peña wonder what your deal was. 

Today was rough on multiple levels. Everything was out of place,  Peña and Murphy needed way more intel than you could provide, and to top it all off they had caught one of Escobar's closest henchmen.

Your hair was starting to frizz. The door to the embassy and into the office and therefore into your basement back room had been opened so many times that the humidity felt like it was drowning you. You picked your shirt off your chest, trying to create some airflow as you exited the bathroom directly across from the archives.

Bumping into Peña was always a hassle, just like the first time. Today it had been happening over and over because of how much information he needed, but in general, you avoided him. Murphy was nicer, smoother with talking to women since he actually had a wife, but blunt enough that he didn't waste time.  Peña on the other hand...

You could see why the girls in the office liked him-his jaw, the puppy dog eyes he used when he wanted something...but that was all he had. And he didn’t use the puppy dog eyes on you. Speaking to him wasn't typically pleasant, and you came to find out by listening to the men in the office that he really only paid for sex. It would explain why when he was talking to women in the office he relied on his eyes and talked lowly rather than with any charisma. You were thankful that he didn’t find it worth his time to try his hand at seducing you.

When he bumped into you again as you exited the bathroom, you had to hold your tongue. Was it really that difficult to see where he was going? "We got 'em." He said breathlessly, a small smirk coming to his lips as he looked at you shaking your shirt for some sort of cool air.

"Oh, that's great." You were sure you sounded monotone, but after the length of this day you didn't really care to be polite.

"It's uh...it's because of your archives of previous intel." He stated, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand. "Why is it so damn hot in here?"

"People keep opening the door and letting out my cold basement air." You grumbled. It sounded like  Peña was trying to thank you for helping, but you weren't going to assume that. If he wanted to thank you, then he would, but since he hadn’t ever before, you doubted it.

 Peña's lips ticked up in the corner again. "Murphy sent me to invite you out for drinks with the rest of the office since it was because of you." He breathed, placing his hands on his hips.

You glanced at his shirt that seemed to have no buttons working, practically open to his navel with sweat covering his throat and collarbones. Eyes shooting back up to his face seeing his smirk deepening, you thought that maybe this was why others in the office swooned-that damn smirk.

"I appreciate it, but I am not sure I am going to go." You sighed, moving away from him and going back to the archives room where the air was still damp but cooler. He followed you, tilting his head as he held open the door. "Either come in or don't  Peña, stop holding open the door."

"You really want me to disappoint Murphy? And his wife?" Peña saw you eye him, and it was the first time he ever caught you. Maybe your walls were starting to come down after the year and a half you had worked with him and Murphy, and maybe he could get you to open up like Murphy got you to. In a way he was jealous that Murphy and his wife had such a good relationship with you-but he didn’t try too hard either. 

"I'm not sure that is all that new  Peña." You smirked, picking up files that had been used today and placing them back on their appropriate shelf.

 Peña scoffed at your dig at him. You were starting to make jokes at his expense, which he assumed was a good sign. He knew how tidy you kept this room, knowing every piece of information down to the letter and where it belonged. Most of the time Murphy would ask you a question regarding a member of the cartel and you could rattle off the answer before providing the file as proof. It was like you were their own personal library that they could press a button and the answers would appear.

He realized now that it was why you had gotten so upset with him and had a screaming match with him all those months ago. He never apologized to you, and just let Murphy do the talking.

But you were always sharp-tongued with  Peña. Murphy joked that you preferred blondes over brunettes, but  Peña saw the way you looked at him just now, and noted that it probably wasn’t the first time. It was like you wanted to know more, but wasn't willing to because of how much you hated him. Maybe you wanted to keep your job secure and not risk a hate fuck-others in the office weren't too worried about their job. He never had to work hard to get someone to fuck him. And if in the case that no one wanted to, he would go find "intel" of his own and pay for it, which typically meant he had to talk to you the next day to update you on a file or add information to one.

He could see your jaw ticking every time he came in the next day, smelling slightly of another girl's perfume as you noted down the information he gathered. Always silent, staring at his chin or his neck instead of his eyes. He didn't know how to win you over, but upsetting you was sometimes just as good.

He sighed, closing the door behind him as he walked away. He wasn't really keen on going to this celebration either. It was unusually hot today, and it wasn't like they caught Escobar himself. Sure, it was someone close to him, but he didn't want to celebrate too soon. The only way he was planning on going was if you were, if not to just annoy you and watch how you were when you relaxed.

He heard stories from the girls that would gather around a desk at lunchtime to chat about their weekend, and he knew that you could have a good time. He had just yet to see it. And he wanted to-desperately.

A deep sigh left your lips as you shut the archives door behind you, locking it and sliding the key into your purse. Somehow you had become the key holder, and you didn't mind it. You stayed later, and didn't trust one of the other workers to not mess up the organization system you had carefully crafted for the embassy.

Trudging up the stairs and breaking a sweat as a wave of heat hit your face, you glanced over to the pit-where all the officers desks were-and saw most of the lights off. Only one remained, cigarette in the air almost to it's end.  Peña's eyes shot up to yours, seeing that you were watching him. "Heading to the bar?"

You scoffed, shaking your head and walking towards the front door. "No, I am going to go home and take a cold shower."

"Wait-"  Peña put out the cigarette and quickly stood up, grabbing his jacket that had his keys in it. "I'll walk you out."

"You don't need to do that, I am typically here alone when leave anyways." Him asking to walk you out stopped you in your tracks. You couldn't tell if he had ulterior motives or if he was just being polite. Why was he all of a sudden being nice to you?

"I'm heading home too." He laughed, walking up to your side and pausing with you. "It's not as sweet of a victory until Escobar goes down."

You nodded, motioning to the door and beginning your trek to your car. It wasn't a long walk, but it was likely to be hot and you would need to take a few breaks. You didn't get the front parking spot typically, seeing as you worked in archives and weren't leaving during the day like the agents were. It made you thankful that you made the switch to sneakers early on, and didn’t have sores on the back of your feet like some of the ladies. 

 Peña walked beside you, slowing his stride enough to see which direction you were headed. His car was parked up front, now next to empty spots but typically next to Murphy's. "Where is your car?"

He followed your point, seeing that you were going to walk around 10 minutes uphill before you would reach your car. "I don't get VIP parking Peña." You laughed-he had never heard you laugh. He watched you start to walk away, giving the smallest of waves and he knew that something in the air was different tonight. He wanted to hear you laugh again. 

"Let me drive you over there then." He blurted, stomping out his cigarette and placing his sunglasses on his face. He wanted you to say yes, and he felt like he could persuade you easily. 

His offer surprised you, making you turn around and look at him. "What? No, it's fine." The sun was at the wrong angle and you had to shade your eyes, seeing his pink shirt had slight sweat marks on the collar. 

He smirked, pointing his thumb at his Jeep. "I have air conditioning, and that way you don’t have to sweat the whole way over."

He knew he had you willing when you stood stock still and tilted your head, looking at his car. It was a tempting offer…

And you didn’t say anything besides walk carefully over to the passenger side of his car. He was still shocked, having to move quickly to unlock it so that you didn’t change your mind last minute. He slid into his seat, immediately starting the engine and blasting the air to get it 

moving. 

You both sat in his car for a couple minutes, staring at his radio as he changed the channel until he found something he liked while the air began to cool down and you could feel yourself start to relax. The air felt nice, and his car was much quicker than yours at making the air cool. “Is your car new?”

He glanced at you, leaning back in his seat. “It’s a couple years old, but yeah I bought it new.” He took in how you leaned back, the air making your shirt move in its gusts against your chest, and how your hands weren’t clutching your bag so tight. “Do you make that walk every day?”

You nodded, laughing lightly again. “I already told you-I’m just archives Peña, I don’t get special treatment like you and Steve.” 

Not only did you laugh but he heard how you called Murphy by his first name and it irritated him. Had he really not gotten to know you that much? “You can call me by my first name too, you know.”

You scoffed, shifting in your seat and crossing your arms. “I don’t know you well enough Peña, to be calling you anything besides that.”

He forgot why he was irritated, because how you crossed your arms made your chest look…amazing. He knew he was staring too long, but in a way he wanted you to know that he found you attractive, especially since you and him didn’t seem to get along. Maybe you would be sweeter on him if you knew he found you physically attractive. 

“Eyes up here asshole.” You snapped, rolling your eyes and sitting back straight. “Are you going to drive me to my car or what?”

Well…that didn’t work. “Yeah I’ll drive you over.” He mumbled, wondering how he could get under your skin without starting a screaming match. “You just…that shirt is really nice.” He rolled his eyes at himself-that was lame as hell. 

But he got to hear you laugh again, and while he didn’t understand you, he liked hearing you happy. It made him feel like jell-o on the inside, and it was an ego boost to have you smiling because of him after so long of you not. “I think you were just looking at my tits, Peña.”

That made him choke and cough a little. “You have a mouth on you?” He let out an exasperated laugh, pulling up to your lonesome car and parking beside it so you could get out and slide into your drivers seat. 

“I’m surprised you thought I didn’t.” 

“I wouldn’t mind seeing more of what it could do.”

That was bold. You had never heard him be so bluntly flirty, seeing as any time you over heard him trying to pick up one of the office workers it was much more “want to go to the bathroom with me?” which didn’t sound like an appealing come on. You blinked at him, both of you exchanging looks for what felt like minutes. 

He knew he fucked up. Somehow he let the thought slip out of his mouth and now he was holding his breath for your reaction. He meant to say something stupid to see you laugh again, but instead came out this vulgar come on that wasn’t untrue, but not what he intended. “Um-I’m sorry I didn’t…it just slipped out.”

You glanced back down to his neck, watching his pulse pick up speed and how even with the cold air in his car it was still slick with sweat. He was nervous, and for some reason that was endearing to you. “I can do a few things…with my mouth.”

His eyes widened glancing to your eyes and then your lips and then your chest. Was he asleep at his desk? Did he fall asleep on the drive home? Was he drunk? “Yeah? Like what?” God he was pushing the limits right now. 

And suddenly you reach out and grabbed the back of his head and licked up his neck from his collarbone to his jaw. And the obscene sound that left his mouth spurred you on to do it again but end with biting his ear. 

 Peña was losing his mind. There was no way this was real. He reached out and grabbed the back of your head, pulling on your hair to detach you from his ear. You hissed, pushing back on his hand. “You want this? Here?”

You suddenly knew why the girls swooned for him. When he was in the moment with you, the breathlessness of his words, the timber of his voice made you buzz in his seat. With the cool air still blowing, the sun setting behind the building you both worked in, you nodded your head. “I could use a destress. Is that okay?”

He had to stop himself from exploding on the spot. You wanted to fuck him? Use him as your toy to unwind from the stressfulness of the job? He was on board for that. He pulled away from you, removing his hand from your head, killing the engine and getting out of the car quickly.  He walked around to the passenger side, opening your door and almost pulling you out too hard. “Get in the back seat.”

You felt yourself get wet, hopping into the back seat with his hand on your ass as he followed you in. The idea of fucking Peña had crossed your mind a few times, but you weren’t going to act on them until today when he said those words to you. No one had to know, right?

You flipped around as he grabbed your legs to slot himself between your thighs, pressing his erection to your center and pulling your skirt up. He leaned down to your neck and gave it the same treatment you gave his, biting your jaw at the end. “Fuck, I’ve been wanting you.” He groaned, palming the part of your ass that hung over his seat, kissing at your collar bone like his life depended on it. “What do you want baby? This is your chance to unwind, remember?”

You sighed, eye going skyward as he spoke to you. This is what you wanted after all. He was annoying as hell in the office but right now you needed him. You grabbed his hair and pulling him up to be eye level with you. “Sit up, Peña.”

He scrambled off of you, sitting up and guiding your hips to his and pulling you down so you could feel the friction of his jeans against your center. His hands reached forward to your chest, palming you and untucking your shirt from your skirt. “Fuck-”

The speed at which you unbuttoned his jeans and pulled his cock out was impressive. And what was more impressive was how quickly you sunk down on to him, pulling your panties to the side and letting him fill you to the hilt. He groaned, shocked at how quickly you sat on him, holding still and reaching around to your back to keep you steady. 

His mouth was open, sweat was dripping down his hairline as the back of your shirt was becoming see through with the heat. When he got out of the car and demanding you go to the back he had turned off the engine, and now it was like you were in a sauna. But somehow it made it better, because as you started to move Peña’s eyes closed in bliss. 

You leaned your head back, wrapping your arms around the front seats as leverage as you moved up and down on him.  Peña didn’t know if he wanted to lean back and watch you do the work or if he wanted to lean forward and lick your nipples, pull your hair, maybe thumb your clit. “You’re beautiful like this cariño.”

You moaned, opening your eyes to see him in awe of your body still covered. “We can only do this once, Peña.”

He grabbed your hip, halting your movements as he began to thrust upward and do the work. “Javier is just fine darlin’.” He pistoned into you, suddenly angry at how you wanted to keep this casual. Were you not absolutely infatuated like he was? The minute you let him touch you was like a reset in his brain-there was no way anyone else would fill his needs like you could. And the way you sat on his cock? And how he fit so snugly inside you? He refused to believe you didn’t feel it too. “We can see about this being only once baby-I think you’ll be too cock hungry, huh? Would you want to ride me again?”

You bit your lip and closed your eyes again, knuckles going white as your fingers sunk farther in to the seats. A light whimper escaped you, making Peña’s thrusts falter slightly, but he regained his rhythm and grabbed one of your arms to place your fingers on your clit. The way he spoke to you made you want to say yes, please but you held back. 

“I want you to cum on my cock and show me how much you’re enjoying this like I am. Don’t even fucking lie to me-play with your clit. Show me.” He felt out of control, almost in a completely different body with the way you fit so perfectly around him.

All the breath had left you when he spoke. This was his game. This is what kept women coming back. And there was no way you would be able to resist. 

He saw how much you liked his words, smirking and feeling accomplished. So this is what he needed to do to get you to be nice to him-fuck you into oblivion. “That’s it baby girl, you look so good like this, taking my cock. Does it feel good?” He watched you nod, throwing your head back again as your fingers slowed down. “Don’t stop, I want to feel you. Don’t wait for me honey-that’s so nice of you. This is for you. I want to see it.”

It didn’t take much longer for you to lose yourself, unable to control your moans as you began to release on him. The way you clenched around him was not what he expected, the flutter and the strong squeeze made him release too. He leaned forwarded groaning as he continued, burying his head into your chest. 

He slowed down, hot breath tickling your abdomen and fingers still clutching his front seats. His arms were wrapped around you, palms of his hands searing into your back and sides as he leaned slightly back. He wanted to tell you to come back to his place, that you could take a shower together and maybe you could show him more of your tricks with your mouth. But something sunk in him when he looked up to your eyes and how you were slowly coming out of a horny stupor. “Just sit here for a second, its ok.”

You felt panic rushing to your brain as you lifted yourself off of him quickly, making him hiss and hold on to your hips tighter. “Peña. I-shit, I shouldn’t have-”

“Don’t regret this, I needed this as much as you.” He said softly, desperately. He wanted to convince you to do it again. 

You looked at him and then looked out the windows of his Jeep. No one was around, and it was dark, the only light from the emergency lights surrounding the parking lot. “We can’t do this again, I really need this job-”

“No one will know, hermosa.” He was trying so hard to not be hurt by what you said, but he understood that you and he weren’t friends before this. That you had a job that you were proud of and didn’t want to risk any of it. “If you get back in the office and everyone gives you a hard time then we don’t have to do this again if you don’t want to but-” He faltered, chasing your eye line and finally grabbing your chin to force you to look at him. 

You let go of his front seat and sat up straight, hand resting on his arm that was holding your face in place. “I want to.” 

It was like cold water being poured over him when you admitted you would want to still fuck him. “I want you as much as I can have you.” Fuck he felt pathetic, completely at the mercy of you.

“One week and if no one thinks we…if I’m not completely humiliated then maybe we can-”

“You can take your stress out on me any day of the week.” It tumbled out of him, leaning forward to brush his lips against yours for a second. Any part of you he could have he would take. 

You chuckled, sliding off his lap and opening his back door. You stood up, fixing your skirt and turning around to see his cock still out going soft, completely overwhelmed. “I’ll see you next week, Javier.”

He watched you get into your car and start the engine, still not willing to move until he watched you pull away from the parking lot. He fixed his pants, stepped out the same side of the vehicle as you had, and shut the door gently. You called him by his first name and that alone felt like an improvement. Javier didn’t know what had just happened, but he knew that he couldn’t wait for the end of next week when he got to pull you close again, knowing he wasn’t going to be able to resist.

[cold-heart-warm-writings]

OHSHC Back to School Shopping

We’re ignoring that Honey and Mori would’ve graduated. Another school year at Ouran Academy is about to begin! What are each of the Host Club members looking forward to buying?

Honey - A new lunchbox. His lunch boxes are fancy af. They are cute, they are kept cool, and they have incredible storage for all of his cakes and snacks. This year he tracked down a limited edition bunny lunch box, and he couldn’t stop talking about it and showing it off to the ladies.

Hikaru - Locker decorations. Hikaru’s locker is decked OUT! He has a mini disco ball, every type of magnet conceivable, a mini battery operated vacuum (that he does not use), a mirror, and even more locker gadgets my commoner mind cannot think of. Even Haruhi is impressed by his locker.

Tamaki - Back to school new clothes. He remembers going shopping for clothes with his mom when he was little, and he’s been chasing that high at the start of the school year ever since. Tamaki’s outfit choices are typically questionable at best, but that doesn’t stop him from going into every single store searching for clothes, love, and acceptance. He will walk out with one of those things.

Haruhi - New pens. Haruhi is resourceful and usually either repurposes things from previous years, but she’s weak when all of the pens are on display and on sale. She’s still looking for a replacement pen that’s as good as the one that the twins STOLE and then sold on the Host Club website.

Mori - Textbooks. While not the biggest reader in the world, Mori does enjoy the quiet process of getting his book list, ordering all of the textbooks, and then skimming through the pages to see what the next year will hold, as far as school is concerned. It’s an introspective process, and he’ll tell his pets what he’s looking forward to. Whoops, it might just be university students that buy textbooks… oh well.

Kaoru - New shoes. While he and Hikaru do end up matching a lot, it’s because Kaoru is the one to pick out what shoes they wear. He is a giant shoe enthusiast, something he probably got from his mother instead of her attention, and he will absolutely stand in overnight lines for the latest shoe fashion. Well… he’ll send somebody to do the actual standing in line, but he’ll send them snacks. Maybe.

Kyoya - Notebooks. He is VERY particular about his notebooks, the color of the paper, grid vs dot vs lined, the subject DOES influence that, the quality of the paper, the cover, wire spirals vs plastic vs staples, he’s VERY particular. Kyoya does use his laptop a lot, but for notes on the go? That’s all accounted for in his notebooks, so he has to have the most top quality of notebooks. He is also still on the look out for a Death Note but that’s a different conversation.

Bonus! Renge - Buying new anime folders. It doesn’t matter the time of the year, she can always validate buying them, but buying them at the beginning of the school year to pump herself up for her studies just feels extra right.

[totentnz]

some mundane things v and johnny do:

going to the laundromat. they have to stay there because someone stole v's underwear one too many times and that shits expensive

late night trip to buy cigarettes. v was convinced she still had a pack. she bought a bunch of vapes some time ago but johnny gets grumpy when she doesnt smoke a "real" cigarette

getting lunch from one of the stalls in the megabuilding. johnny picks the food, v picks the drink.

v has an impromptu "i need to dye my hair" moment, she already owns every colour under the sun but none of them are right so they do a "quick" trip to the drugstore. johnny wants new nailpolish

v decides to pop into the record store. johnny looks around and finds some old classics. v buys all of them. + a poster bc it looks cool

v is doing some coding and the sound of the keyboard relaxes him. eventually it reminds him of alt and he goes off at her. v obliges however and switches to the digital keyboard. johnny doesnt know if he likes it

they walk past a thriftstore and johnny stops v. they are selling a copy of v's favourite movie. she lost the vhs some time ago and never bothered to get a new one

even tho v lived in her apartment for a few months now she still has some boxes to unpack. johnny gets a glimpse into her past that doesnt feel like an invasion of privacy. v wishes she could do the same for him

back at the record store johnny talks about guitars. v doesnt understand a word and it reminds her of her ex. maybe she does have a type

[what-if-i-just-did]

A M B E R

Guilt & Revenge Masterlist (Amber's story)

Okay so this is the first thing I've written for this OC- I will be using him for the entirety of Whumptober. So, let me introduce you to Amber Ruane!!!! Kinda nervous ngl, it's been a while since I've posted writing here and I haven't written proper whump here in forever.

This is also for @alphabetofwhump's alphabetic whump prompts!!! Apology, Memory, Bawl, Emotion, Reinforcement = A M B E R

Trigger warnings: sobbing, begging, victim blaming, mentions of school bullying, hand whump, multiple whumpers, torture device... tell me if I missed anything!

(Credit for the divider to to @steddiecameraroll-graphics)

“No- please please please please please, please no, please- don’t! Please!” Amber begged fruitlessly as they dragged him to the table with the device. The dreadful device that he couldn’t rip his eyes from. The device that was making him beg desperately and mindlessly, scrambling to be anywhere but here.

The device on the table looked gruesome, and it’s function was undeniably obvious. It wasn't anything Amber had seen the likes of before, and yet he knew exactly what it would do to him. It was made of metal, with a hand-shaped base. On top of that base were small metal restraints, meant to restrain each individual joint in his fingers. Then a type of clamps to go on his nails… attached to a mechanism that would yank them right out of his fingers. Like a goddamn medieval torture device.

Of all the pain Amber had already experienced, he did not want this one added to it. It would be horrible. At least they hadn’t figured out yet how to mess with his teeth- the thought sent an extra shudder down his back. He hoped they never would.

“Please- anything, I’ll do anything, please don’t- please don’t- please!!!” 

His hysterical prattling was ignored.

Eileen and Hugo continued to drag him to the table, fastening his hand as the attempts at begging replaced themselves with little terrified noises. 

“Guys, don’t you think he- “ Paul had started to make an argument on Amber’s behalf as the begging and the sheer terror got to him, but he was quickly cut off by his girlfriend. 

“Shush!”, Mercedes said. “Let them do their thing!”

Amber barely noticed amidst his terror, but he tried to make note of it- if Paul was susceptible to begging, and would even go so far as to try to speak up for him… maybe he could push that, could make Paul help him somehow… but that would have to wait until he wasn’t about to have his goddamn nails ripped out. “Please”, he uttered, brokenly.

“You deserve this”, Hugo said coldly.

“No, I don’t, I don’t, I’m sorry, please, please, no, don’t, I don’t..”

There was a wretched grin on Eileen’s face as she tore out the first nail- his pinky finger’s.

A short, involuntary scream was heard, as Amber almost immediately lost his energy and voice.

“Don’t you remember all the times you pulled on my ponytails, my braids? I asked my parents to cut my hair because of you! I cried when they didn’t let me! This is only fair. You deserve this.”, she said, in an accusing and upset voice.

“You stole my backpack- don’t you remember? All the schoolbooks my parents paid for, my lunch, my own books- gone!!! And guess who got blamed for that? Guess who got told to ‘stand up for myself’, like that’s not what got my bag stolen in the first place? HUH?”, Hugo said. 

Amber recalled the event. He’d eaten the lunch, a pb&j. There was a little note in the box, from his mum. Saying she loved him… He’d burnt it. 

He dropped his head… he did deserve this.

Eileen pulled the next nail and, regardless of deserving or not, the yelp that escaped Amber and the instinct to curl up his hand and cradle it to his chest were still present. He started crying in earnest. Heaving sobs wracked his chest as thick tears fell from his eyes, ruining his face further as the third nail was pulled. “Please!!”, he yelled out. Surely no one could deserve this? It wasn’t as if he’d been a child rapist or a murderer. He’d just been a confused kid taking out his emotions on other kids rather than working through them… he’d gotten better since then, on his own! Right….?

“I- I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so, so sorry, I’m so sorry- “ It was all Amber could do. All he had left to him. Sorry, over and over, falling on deaf ears- another scream interrupted his prattling apologies. Sobs and shaky breaths, his voice wavering and breaking and growing quickly hoarse as he apologized, over and over and over…

“You broke my glasses!”

“You made me hate myself”

“You ruined my desk”

“You got me expelled”

“You made my mom cry”

“You put gum in my hair!”

Amber bawled and apologized, over and over, as the idea that he deserved the pain was reinforced, until it was the only thing he could think about, the pain clouding everything else. He remembered all the things he was being told, and how he’d felt at the time. Proud, smug, mischievous- like a fucking heartless asshole. Or did someone call him a heartless asshole? Amber didn’t know, his thoughts were in disarray. He thanked his lucky stars they only seemed to have the right hand of this horrible device.

Hours later, he would have noticed that Paul left at some indeterminable point. That Mercedes was still there, watching but not speaking. That it was mostly Hugo telling him all the horrible things he’d done to him, Eileen occasionally adding something. That was only two… two of the four that had found him to exact their revenge. How many more had there been…? How horrible had he made the lives of multiple other people? 

Amber had been left with his hand stuck in the device overnight. When they came back in the morning and released him, Amber protectively cradled his hand to his chest, apprehensively looking at them. He knew the day held nothing more but pain and solitude… but he knew now also that he deserved it. Just like they’d been saying all along. Silently, he sat where he was told.

[mariaofdoranelle]

Look at Us Now — Ch. 9

Fic masterlist

Look who’s back three days late! Thank y’all for your patience, I promise we’ll get back to our usual schedule this Thursday ❤️

I’m using @autumnbabylon’s prompt, and I’d also like to thank @renxzs for helping me with a few chapter titles (my translation was a huge mess)

Warnings: language, Fenrys (he’s on fire today)

Words: 5,7k (I’m never beating the irregular chapters allegations)

Rowan hovered the spoon with chili sauce over the freshly-cut mangos as he wondered if he should pour it or not. Maybe he could put the sauce in a separate container, in case she reconsiders.

One month and a half being in charge of Aelin’s food wasn’t enough to prepare him for some of her cravings. This morning, she texted him asking for hot chili sauce along with her mango, and an onion.

He was still hoping she requested the onion because Aedion’s house ran out of ingredients.

His phone pinged on the counter.

Aelin: where r u

Aelin: im abt to climb on a tree and pick some rose apples

Snorting, he thought about how she made Aedion do that last week. It was June, which meant the Rose Apple trees spread across their military housing complex were bearing fruit, its smell enticing pregnant women’s senses.

Rowan: I’ll be right there.

One quick look at the clock made him rush the lunch boxes into the huge thermal bags. Every day, he prepped several meals and snacks for Aelin to eat throughout the day. Rowan only let her run out of full lunch boxes once, and her reaction was enough so he’d never let that happen again.

Earlier today, Aelin texted him a very cryptic message telling him to meet her at another address, a short walk from his place. Before leaving his house, Rowan didn’t recognize the pair of fancy sneakers beside Fenrys’ at the front door. At least they were quiet last night. He couldn’t think about that right now, Aelin was waiting for him.

Despite his current unease, the sound of children playing at the playground in front of his house made him smile. It was usual for a Saturday morning, and Rowan never gave much thought to it until he realized one day he’d have a little one squealing there too. The reminder sent a soft smile to his lips, feeling the kind of warmth he knew wasn’t due to Doranelle’s sun burning his skin.

Which led him back to Fenrys. Rowan never minded his friend’s parade of one-night stands, but he couldn’t think of raising a kid in this kind of environment. He noticed Aelin’s car parked in front of a white, bare house. He’d have to figure out this thing about Fenrys later.

The front door was open. Rowan knocked on the door, hovering over the threshold until he heard Aelin’s voice telling him to come in. This house has the same layout as his, but it was completely bare. No lighting, no furniture, just the smell of dust.

He found Aelin in the kitchen. Standing on a ladder, its hinges squeaked while she changed a light bulb. Rowan’s heart almost jumped out of his throat as he rushed her way. Careful enough to not startle her, he picked her up by the hips and placed her on the floor, not caring about her squeal of protest.

Aelin rubbed the area below her belly. “You can’t press over a pregnant woman’s bladder. It’s rude.”

“What the fuck were you doing?” Rowan had both hands on her shoulders, his breathing still fast.

“Changing the light bulb.” Aelin took a step back and opened her arms, grinning. “Welcome to my new house.”

“Huh.” Rowan looked around, taking in… nothing. The house had nothing. “When do you plan to move in?”

“I just did.”

Rowan’s eyes widened. “You did not.”

Aelin took him by the hand and started showing her arrangements. “I stole Aedion’s cooler and one old microwave Uncle Orlon had.” She led him to the master bathroom and showed one mattress and a suitcase on the floor. “I’ll sleep here until my furniture arrives next week. I bought it all online.”

Horrified, Rowan slowly shook his head. “You’re not.”

“What?”

“Does Aedion know about this?”

She crossed her arms. “Why’s that important?”

“Aelin…” Rowan looked around, taking all the nothingness of the house in. “You’re not sleeping here. I can’t see one good reason for you to.”

She was glaring at him with a high chin, looking defiant from head to toe. Rowan had been doing everything he could to keep the easy friendship they built in the past weeks, but he couldn’t put his foot down on this.

“Well, it’s my house, and sleeping here won’t affect the baby, so you don’t get to say a word about it.” A pause. “Neither does Aedion, because if I look at him one more time, I swear to Mala, Rowan, I’m going to flip the fuck out.”

He flexed his jaw. “What did he do?”

“Everything!” Aelin flailed her arms around and started pacing around the room. “He’s so annoying! He making jokes about my cravings, and then he goes and steals a bite of my food, and then keeps suggesting ridiculous baby names.” She was finger-counting her cousin’s shenanigans, face reddening with each example of his teasing. “A few days ago, he said—“ Aelin stopped speaking to take a deep breath and look up, but her eyes were already wet. “He told me to name our daughter Wiggly Jiggly!” Her lips wobbled, and she looked away, hiding her teary face. “That’s such a horrible name.”

Oh, fuck. This wasn’t the first outburst of pregnancy hormones he witnessed, and Rowan was sure he’d never be ready for them.

He sat on the mattress and patted the spot beside him. “C’mere.”

Aelin obliged, laying down with her head on his lap, facing away from him. He just caressed her hair and let her be, knowing very well she didn’t like to cry in front of people, even if she couldn’t help it.

“For what it’s worth, I’d never let our daughter’s name be Wiggly Jiggly.”

She groaned. “You find this funny?”

“No,” he lied. It seemed to be all good-natured cousin teasing, but Rowan did a mental note to ask Aedion to tone down the name suggestions.

“Did I tell you he ate half of my mango yesterday?”

“That’s terrible.”

“He apologized when I started crying, but I haven't forgiven him yet. The apology mango he gave me wasn’t as juicy.”

Rowan snorted. “I have a very good mango supplier.”

She sniffed. “I know you do.”

Aelin’s puffy red nose was so adorable Rowan loved and hated it at the same time. He wanted to peck it with kisses because of how cute she looked, and then completely crush and destroy whatever threat made her cry.

“I have an idea.”

Aelin made a sound that was somewhere a hum and a purr. She was no better than a house cat when he ran his fingers through her hair like this.

“If you don’t want to live with Aedion anymore.” He trailed, pondering his words. “You can stay with me. Just until your house is ready,” Rowan quickly added the last part, before she could protest.

Aelin turned her body so she could lie facing him. Her eyes scanned his face, reading how much he meant it. “I don’t know…”

“I have a very comfortable guest room, but you can take mine if you want. Or my roommate’s, I can kick him out.” Aelin chuckled, eyes blissfully closed as he caressed her scalp. Rowan continued, “You can take a nap there, and when you wake up, we can discuss it over freshly baked cookies.”

Her lips morphed into a teasing smirk. “You’ve always been good at dirty talk, Ro.”

It should be illegal, the heat that flooded over Rowan’s body. Especially when they agreed their affair was over. Whenever he looked, scrambling his mind for a decent thought, his brain conjured the memory of Aelin’s flushed face and aroused looks.

He cleared his throat. “Is that a yes?”

“Let’s see how soft your bed is, Lieutenant.”

For Mala’s sake. Rowan let out a string of curses inside his head as he forced his gaze on the ceiling. She had to be doing this on purpose. Which reminded of the other menace he had to deal with.

Rowan: You have 3 minutes to get rid of your boy toy.

Fenrys: how do you know it’s a boy?

Rowan: The sneakers

He helped Aelin get up from the mattress, which was another reason she shouldn’t sleep here. It would kill her with back pain, considering her bump was bigger each day. He opened the chat again.

Rowan: Aelin may or may not spend the next few weeks in our place

Fenrys: nice

Fenrys: does it mean you’ll cook for me too?

Rowan: I already cook for you.

Fenrys: i know

Fenrys: but the pregnant lady stole my chef

When he rolled his eyes and pocketed his phone, Aelin was carefully studying him.

“I was letting Fenrys know you’re coming over.

“For the nap, right?”

He didn’t answer.

Aelin slowly shook her head. “I’m going to disturb your routine.”

Rowan squeezed her hand. “I don’t mind.”

“You’re being a big Buzzard right now, did you know that?”

Rowan tilted his head. “A what?”

Aelin tried to portray a serious look, but she was clamping her lips together, trying not to laugh. “A Buzzard. Because you’re hovering.”

After that, Rowan offered to drive her to his place, but Aelin refused, saying she was pregnant, not disabled. His only response was to chuckle and stay close to her during their short walk, in case she tripped or felt ill.

Rowan didn’t mind being called a Buzzard, as long as she didn’t mind that he acted like one.

˜˜

As much as Maisie deserved the best of the best on her birthday, Rowan felt like this outrageously expensive condensed milk was laughing at his face. He didn’t even pay for it, his parents did, but it was a matter of principles.

From the other side of the kitchen counter, Rory barely acknowledged her son’s distressed state. “Being cheap doesn’t look cute, Rowan.”

“Cheap?” His voice came out a pitch higher than he intended. “I’m not cheap, I just do a cost-benefit analysis before buying something, and it still ends up being expensive. But your groceries weren’t expensive, they were outrageous.”

Rory pointed a finger at her son. “Your job is to parent Maisie and teach her to be responsible.” She pointed at herself. “My job is to spoil her rotten, and that includes baking her overpriced cakes.”

“And giving overpriced gifts,” Rowan murmured to himself while organizing his shelf.

“You’re still bitter about that?”

Rowan looked at his mom dead in the eye. “You could’ve bought her a toy. You could’ve bought her a princess costume.” A dramatic pause. “You bought her an acoustic drum set.”

“It was your dad’s idea.” Rory beamed. “She’ll love it.”

“I will never know peace again.”

“Is Sellene coming tomorrow?” His mother asked, changing the subject.

Rowan resumed putting groceries away. “Just for Skull’s Bay on Saturday.”

After tomorrow morning’s surprise, Maisie had something with Aelin at Orlon’s, and on the weekend they’d go to the pirate-themed restaurant every kid in Doranelle City loved.

“It’ll be just us and Aelin, then?”

“Just us.”

“And Aelin?”

Rowan gave her a hard look, and his mother’s shoulders dropped.

“I thought things were better between the two of you.”

He ran a hand through his hair as if it’s take the frustration out of his mind. Yes, they were communicating better. It only erased one of the problems they had. And to be fair, it’s much easier to look Aelin in the face when she’s shooting daggers at him than when she’s smiling because of something their daughter did. It made him feel more at ease with his choices.

“We’re fighting less, yes, but that doesn’t mean we’re friends.”

“You’re not friends yet, that’s alright. But is the birthday yours or Maisie’s?”

“What do you mean?”

“Because you just told me you didn’t invite Aelin because she’s not your friend, but this is not your party. She’s Maisie’s mom, Rowan, it doesn’t matter if you’re friends or not.”

“Well, Aelin’s throwing another party in the evening and didn’t invite me either.”

Rory shrugged. “I don’t care about the guest list for her party. In my parties, Aelin will always be a guest.”

He raised both eyebrows. “Your party?”

It was Maisie’s party at Rowan’s house.

“I’m making the food, which means I have a say about who gets invited.”

It didn’t, but his mother was impossible to argue with.

“Fine. I’ll text her when I’m done here.”

Rowan didn’t even mind Aelin’s presence there, it was just how they operated since last year. But they were better, and maybe he should have more initiative. Rowan scrubbed the flour container clean a lot more than he needed, thinking about this over and over.

“You know how I feel about this, son.” his mother turned to him from the other side of the kitchen.

His shoulders went rigid. “I know, could you not—“

“You should’ve married her.”

Rowan spilled flour all over the counter while opening the sack.

It wasn’t the first time his mother expressed her feelings about this, but they got fewer and far between as time passed. Going from encouraging him to propose while Aelin was pregnant to… this.

“We’re seeing a therapist after years apart. Can you imagine the shitshow we’d be if we were actually together?”

His mom had to understand this. If Rowan had been telling this to himself so much he had the words memorized, it had to make sense.

She didn’t seem to, though. “Every couple has fights, Rowan. It just needs to balance out with how much sex—“

Grimacing, he felt his upper arms quiver. “Could you not?”

”Alright.” Rory sighed. “I’m just saying you chose to have just the bad end of the deal. Apart from Maisie, that is.”

Fed up with this conversation, Rowan felt his pulse faster each second. He identified the anger he was feeling and repeated to himself that he would not snap at his mother over and over as he slowly wiped his hands on a cloth.

“I know you mean well, but I don’t like it when you tell me what I should’ve done,” Rowan explained in a carefully controlled tone. At that point, he had all of Yrene’s pdfs memorized. “It makes me feel…”

“You can talk to me,” Rory insisted when silence stretched, lips pursed as she looked too concerned for his liking. “How does that make you feel?”

Resentful. Frustrated. Hurt. There was no point in admitting that, though. The worst part is that no matter how much Rowan forced his face to look neutral, his mother still read him like a book. He drew out a long breath. “I need to pick Maisie up from school.”

The kitchen couldn’t be more silent after that.

˜˜

Turns out shoving his feelings down his throat was just what Rowan needed to go on with his day. His phone pinged around an hour past Maisie’s bedtime, and he already knew who it was.

Aelin: she’s still up??

Rowan: She’s too excited

Rowan: The first party I’ll be throwing for myself, *if* she falls asleep.

Aelin: lol lmk when i can come

Since they planned two separate celebrations before inviting each other, Maisie was now having two parties on the same day with both parents.

A small smile made its way into Rowan’s lips as he watched Maisie babbling in her kitten pajamas about her birthday tomorrow. She barely noticed he was using his phone, and if his little girl even suspected what was happening soon, her chances of falling asleep would be ruined.

Rowan: You don’t need to, I’ve got this

Aelin: stop fussing

Aelin: and text me when she’s out

“…I also like my birthday because I don’t have to brush teeth.”

Rowan crossed his arms. “Who told you that?”

“Mommy!” Maisie’s voice was more high-pitched than normal, and she looked a little too eager for his response, wearing a maniac smile. His daughter was such a bad liar, and Rowan hoped that never changed. At least not before teen years. She tapped the side of her head. “I have it in my rememberys.”

Rowan felt the warmth in his chest and refused to correct this mispronunciation. They got rarer each year, and he was enjoying the remains of this phase before it stayed just in his rememberys.

“Come on, Mais.” He kissed her forehead. “The sooner you fall asleep, the sooner your birthday will be here.”

She didn’t only close her eyes, but squished her eyelids together as if it’d make her fall asleep faster. “Maybe I can turn 7 and not 5 when I wake up.”

Rowan snorted. “That’s not how birthdays work.”

“But I want to be older than Charlie!”

After a lot of wrangling and lavender sleep spray on her pillow and reading books about hippos and answering that no, tomorrow isn’t Mrs. Hippo’s birthday as well, Maisie’s tiredness finally overthrew her birthday euphoria.

Rowan: She’s asleep.

Aelin: k. i’ll be there in 5

As carefully as he could, he removed himself from Maisie’s strong hold and went to the guest bedroom.

Rowan knocked on the door, even if it was open. “Everything alright there? She’s asleep.”

His parents let out a collective sigh, as if they were the ones fighting Maisie’s frenzy with their lives.

“Finally!” Rory whisper-yelled while getting up from the bed. She tapped on Rowan’s shoulders at the threshold. ”Time to do some baking.”

As loud as his mother could be sometimes, at least she understood that this preparation needed to be as silent as possible. If his daughter wakes up and sees what they’re up to… for Mala’s sake, he doesn't even want to think about it.

Crouching, his dad dragged a huge suitcase from under the bed and opened to reveal the new bane of Rowan’s existence.

Maisie’s acoustic drum set.

Rowan’s eyes widened. “Buying her drums wasn’t enough, you got one kit so big it needed its own suitcase.”

His dad was smiling so much at that thing it showed off every crinkle around his eyes. ”Nothing more than what our Maisy Daisy deserves. And it’s pink!”

Rowan crossed his arms, feeling a little torn. As much as he hated the idea of leaving a very active kid with the loudest, messiest musical instrument of them all, it could be overwhelming when his parents and Maisie were together. Rory and Owen were the kind of doting grandparents Maisie deserves, and it warmed his heart to see how much his little girl was loved.

A notification from his phone snapped Rowan out of his thoughts.

Aelin: where r u??????

He frowned at his phone, confused.

Rowan: At home?

Aelin: GREAT. could you pls answer the front door????

Cursing under his breath, he quickly dismissed himself to get the door.

“Don’t worry about me, son! Sellene sent the link on how to assemble this.”

“Of course she did,” Rowan called over his shoulder from the hall.

Rowan’s heartbeat was a little quicker than he intended while fumbling with the door handle. He didn’t want to upset Aelin tonight, but

“Gods, Rowan, I was knocking for ages!”

“Sorry,” he apologized, but then frowned. “Why didn’t you ring the doorbell?”

Aelin crossed her arms. “And wake up Maisie?”

He grimaced. Their daughter didn’t wake up that easily, but he was actually glad she didn’t take the risk.

“Sorry.” He scratched the back of his head. “Mom’s cooking, Dad’s assembling her drums, I’ll do the decoration.”

She blinked, eyes widened. “I’m sorry, drums?”

“Yes.” Rowan mimicked playing with drumsticks with the dullest face possible, to portray how unhappy he was with it. “Drums.”

“Dear Mala, this—“ Aelin cackled into her palm, shoulders trembling as she tried not to be loud. “You are so fucked,” she wheezed.

He squinted his eyes at her amusement, arms crossed. “Are you done?”

Of course she’d find this funny. The drum set was too big to fit into Maisie’s backpack when Rowan dropped her off at Aelin’s house.

“Alright, alright.” She raised both hands in surrender. “I can’t cook, and I’m not a percussion girlie. What do we’ve got?”

She was carefully silent the whole time Rowan showed his decoration plans.

“You got…” Aelin wrinkled her nose. ”Orange, pink, red and green balloons?”

“Maisie likes those colors!”

“But this is a terrible palette!” She complained, waving a hand at the packs of balloons displayed on the table, but then something about his face made her stop. “As much as I appreciate your efforts, I…” from Aelin’s furrowed brows, Rowan knew she was trying to mentally fit her unkind words into Yrene’s Guide On How To Communicate With Kindness. “I’m not a fan of the color scheme you chose. I think we can do better for Maisie.”

“Alright.” Rowan’s posture relaxed. “I’m listening.”

Rowan still didn’t know how to feel about this new technique. They were always saying how much they acknowledged each other’s efforts and feelings and respectfully disagreed. Sometimes, it made his interactions with Aelin feel too robotic, unnatural. It gave him a weird hollow feeling to see the two of them like this, but it was for the best. They were doing the best they could for Maisie.

After some explanations Rowan didn’t pay much attention to, Aelin decided the pink and orange balloons went better with the number 5 rose gold balloon he bought, and it was settled.

She rubbed her hands together. “Where’s the balloon thingy?”

“The what?”

Aelin gestured with her hands, but he could only understand a small, squared shape. “That thing we use to fill the balloons.”

Rowan tilted his head. “Our lungs?”

“Boo! Boring!” Aelin protested, but she was smirking at him.

He sat on the couch with the pink pack of balloons and tossed the orange one at her. “Come on, I’d like to get more than three hours of sleep tonight.”

They fell into a comfortable silence after that, lungs too busy to speak, being interrupted only when Aelin groaned about the smell of food coming from the kitchen.

Her eyes were full of mischief. “Do you think your mom will let me take a bite?”

“Only after Maisie wakes up,” his mom warned from the kitchen’s threshold, pointing between the two of them with a dirty whisk. Then she aimed a soft grin at Aelin. “But I’m making those chocolate hazelnut cookies.”

She sagged back on the couch, eyes closed while wearing a small, blissful smile. “Your mom is the best.”

“Thanks, darlin’!” Rory called from the kitchen.

Aelin chuckled and turned to him. “Shall we get the tape?”

Rowan shook his head. “Nope, it’ll ruin the walls.”

“Really?” She had her arms crossed and brows raised. “Are you worried it’ll ruin Maisie’s drawings? Because it doesn’t look like you care about the paint.”

Completely ignoring Aelin’s taunt, he kneeled in front of her and tapped his shoulder. “Hop on.”

Aelin narrowed her eyes at him, but he didn’t miss the way the corner of her lip twitched. “This is terrible for your back.”

“You think I can’t take you?” Rowan wore a playful smile while watching Aelin’s blood rush into her cheeks. “Be careful, you’re about to bruise a man’s ego.”

Resigned, she carefully sat on his shoulders, cursing under her breath when he got up. When Aelin grabbed a fistful of his hair to support herself, Rowan’s body immediately tingled. It brought him back to another time when she’d yank his hair the same way, but he was quick to shrug it off. His memories were a menace.

“Okay…” holding Aelin’s legs, he kicked a balloon up and she caught it with the hand that wasn’t holding his hair. “Now rub it in my hair and put it on the ceiling.”

She was quiet for a second. “You want me to do what?”

He squeezed her calf for reassurance, since they couldn’t see each other’s faces. “I need you to make the balloon electrostatically charged enough to stick it to the ceiling.”

“And that’s better than tape?” He couldn’t see her face, but she didn’t sound happy.

“For Mala’s sake, Aelin, I’m an engineer! Just rub the damn thing in my hair.”

She kicked his torso with the heel of her foot. “Where are the manners Yrene taught you?”

“His mother too!” Rory called from the kitchen.

Rowan closed his eyes for a second, embracing his defeat. He was helpless when the women in his family ganged up on him. “Please.”

“Here we go.” Aelin did as he asked, and let out a squeal of delight when the balloon adhered to the ceiling. “It worked!”

“It had to. It’s a law of physics.”

She playfully kicked him again. “Killjoy.”

This was nice. The weight of Aelin on his shoulders didn’t even cause an itch, maybe because Rowan felt so much lighter right now he didn’t even notice the extra weight on his back. Just like he didn’t notice time running, only realizing how late it was when his parents went to the living room to say goodbye.

After they finished decorating the ceiling, Aelin started on the wall while he rested on the couch for a few minutes. As much as the orthopedist beside him disagreed, there’s no running from back pain after 30. In fact, at this point in his life, if Rowan didn’t wake up in some sort of physical pain, that’d probably mean he’s dead.

“What’re you doing?” He asked her as she grabbed the pack of green balloons, after they made a half-wall of pink flowers.

She filled a small one and placed it on the corner of one balloon flower. “A leaf! You wanted more green.”

That gave him a faint, very tired smile. Rowan barely remembered their disagreement earlier about which colors they were using, but apparently she did.

She sat on the couch next to him after adding a few more leaves to the flower wall. “I can help you with your old man's back pain if you keep teaching me cool Physics tricks. How about that?”

He snorted. “That’s basic high school Physics.”

Aelin rolled her eyes. “Of course you were the nerd.”

“And you weren’t?”

“Nope. Too cool for that.“ Aelin tried to conceal a distant look on her face as she reminisced, ”I was hot and depressed. Had bigger things going on than physics.”

Rowan stared at her, wide-eyed. “How did you get into med school without studying?”

She shrugged. “I guess I’m just that awesome.”

The TV’s remote control was right by her side, so Aelin turned it on Netflix. He didn’t feel like watching TV yet, though. Rowan didn’t miss the part about her being depressed during her teenage years, especially how she tried to laugh it off. The same way she downplayed her going to therapy weeks ago.

“So…” Rowan cleared his throat. “How are you now? With the… Yrene stuff.”

Her eyebrows drew together. “We’re doing better, right? At least that’s the impression I got from the last few weeks.”

Now that he was paying more attention, he realized Aelin sometimes talked about family while answering his questions about her. Rowan didn’t know if this was intentional, so he didn’t pressure her to correct her answer, but he didn’t like it either.

“I think so too.”

“And now that we don’t fight as much and I don’t spend half of my time being angry at you, I realized I have all this energy I can focus on something else.”

“Like what?”

He glanced at Aelin from the corner of his eye. She looked calm, relaxed. Maybe she didn’t lie to him about the reason she was seeing a therapist. Maybe Rowan was just being a worrywart and worrying about things he shouldn’t.

“I’m reading more, but sometimes I think about getting back into playing the piano too.” She paused, biting the inside of her cheek. “And sometimes I think maybe Maisie could use some siblings.”

“You’re pregnant?” Rowan blurted, completely ruining the mood they were in.

“What?” She jerked at the couch, staring at him. “Why would you think that?”

“You just brought babies up!”

Why in hell was Rowan’s heartbeat so fast?

“Gods, no.” She sighed, relaxing again. “I just get pensive around Maisie’s birthdays, that’s all.”

That definitely wasn’t all. Considering having more kids just because one turned five isn’t a thing. Rowan felt his chest burn and tighten. It felt wrong to have his family fixed just so she could finally grow another, but maybe not in Aelin’s head. Maybe he was naive to think just him and Maisie would be enough for her.

Sensing something was wrong with him, she pressed play on a half-watched show on his TV. Good. His eyelids were starting to drop, but he was a trained military man. He could survive under the hardest conditions, especially exhaustion.

˜˜

Rowan woke up with Fenrys Moonbeam slapping the side of his head. He was laying on the couch with his legs intertwined with Aelin’s, who apparently fell asleep with her head on the other end.

Turns out his friend crashed into his daughter’s birthday breakfast because he assumed there’d be food, but everyone just shrugged it off as Fenrys being Fenrys and went on with the party.

As predicted, Maisie was a little bubble of excitement. Rowan had no idea what kind of bribery his parents would do to take her to school after that, or why they insisted on doing it in the first place.

It was all nice and easy, but the second Fenrys got him alone in the car, the questions started.

“Did a bug bite your ass on that old couch?”

Rowan had his eyes narrowed at his friend. “What do you mean?”

“You’re too stiff for your daughter’s birthday. Spill.”

He grimaced, hoping Maisie didn’t notice that. There was one thing going on inside his head today, but Rowan decided to give Fenrys some other answer. “Did you see my parent’s present? I’ll never enjoy silence again.”

Fenrys clicked his tongue, shaking his head as he turned off the radio. “When Maisie pisses you off by being a little hellion, you do that thing where you’re making pissy faces while trying not to smile. Now you’re just full pissy.”

Rowan’s shoulders slumped, and she ignored the hollowness inside his chest as he recalled part of his conversation with Aelin last night. He was probably going to regret sharing this, but it was done now.

“She definitely wasn’t just thinking about it. She’s on the hunt.”

Rowan tilted his head. “The hunt?”

“Listen, man, Aelin’s different. The way she’s lighter when she talks, you can’t fake that shit.” Fenrys was counting on his fingers with one hand the same way they’d do on a mission, before becoming drill instructors. “She’s happier. Each year, her ovaries only get closer to the shrinking age or whatever. She’s on the hunt. She wants Mr. Right, and she wants him now.”

Rowan faked a bored look now that his friend could look at him during the red light. “Go on. Without the ovaries part, please.”

It was so frustrating how easily he engaged in Fenrys’ nonsense. But if he did, it must hold some truth, right?

“We need to avoid The Sam Mess from happening again.” Fenrys’ voice was so serious Rowan could barely believe it came out of his friend’s mouth.

He rolled his eyes. “It wasn’t a mess. She didn’t- green light!” Rowan winced when the car harshly took off. There was a reason he didn’t let Maisie drive with Uncle Fen. “Aelin didn’t tell me about him, probably to avoid said mess.”

“Nope, I’m talking about you. You were a mess.”

“What’s your point?” Rowan was definitely going to snap at Fenrys if he mentioned Lieutenant Cortland again.

“My point?” His friend raised his hand in surrender and Rowan gripped the steering wheel to save them from a car crash. Fenrys immediately got back to it, cursing. “My point is to save my best friend from endless heartbreak.”

“Not an endless heartbreak, that ship sailed years ago.” A pause. Fuck, he was too curious to shut Fenrys out now. “But what do you mean?”

“It’s a complicated plan with many, many steps.” His friend gave him a look as if daring Rowan to disagree or find it funny. “But when the time comes, you’ll need to be fucking someone hotter than her.”

Rowan pinched the bridge of his nose. Like it was an easy task.

Over the years, he had a few flings. Real flings, not the kind where people move in and have children together, since Aelin insists on labeling what they had like this. But these affairs happened sporadically, and Rowan never considered turning any of them into something serious.

Showing up with some arm candy out of the blue just to spite Aelin sounded petty and desperate. There was no way Fenrys was talking him into it.

His friend continued, “Being hotter than her next boyfriend works too, but that’s harder to control.”

“You know, I’m almost regretting telling you this.“

“You have an advantage over Aelin—“

“If you’re trying to suggest I’m near as good-looking or interesting as her—“

“Not that.” Fenrys gave him a quick apologetic look. “But you’re a dude. Dudes are like taxi drivers.”

Rowan rolled his eyes. “Not one of your theories again.”

“Not mine. Sex and the City’s.” Fenrys raised a finger without taking his hands off the steering wheel. “We see someone there who looks like they won’t kill us, and they hop in. That’s how dudes work. Have you ever put your love life on hold because you were hoping to get the right person?”

Rowan refused to answer this question. “This is so sexist I can barely believe it’s coming out of a queer person’s mouth.”

“It’s Sex and the City wisdom, man. Those four chicks just know things.”

“So, basically…” Rowan sighed, weighing the absurdity of it all. “You’re telling me that being a slut will make me feel better about Aelin looking for a new family.”

“That’s the quick fix, yes. You should really talk to Lorcan too, though.” Fenrys glanced at him, smirking like the devil. “But in the meanwhile, I can even help you with a Tinder profile.”

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[leggerefiore]

Not Young!Reader sharing their bento they made on their own with Young! Houndour Puppy Cyrus because a bully stole his lunch box or his lunch money. Maybe it's something that happens a few times through their school years. It nurtures a friendly pack bond that, when the sharing of meals and snacks doesn't end starting puberty, leads to questioning if it's still platonic, just an old habit, or if it's a courting move. It's worse if reader is also a hybrid of any kind because nurturing and providing are universal gestures. No matter what his human mind gets hung up on, his canine side already sees Reader as his Mate and it slowly drives him mad.

Luckily for him, when it does get confirmed that they are indeed Mates (regardless of whether it's Hybrid x Human or Double Hybrid), he gets samples of their cooking more often.

TLDR: Reader unknowingly Pavlov'd Cyrus into being Mates.

He is so quietly infatuated that he does not know what to do. His parents tell him to ignore any of his hybrid instincts – already frustrated that the genetic lottery made them one despite both of them being humans. Not to mention this Cyrus's pack instincts is probably the reason he gets Lenie within this au.

S/o helps encourage that it's so okay to embrace his Houndoom side just a little, and it becomes a lot more over time.

[thebadgerclan]

Rings

Pairing: Alex Claremont-Diaz x Henry Fox

Summary: Alex needs to return the ring...

This was a trip Alex never thought he’d have to make.  Only a month after painstakingly selecting an engagement ring for Henry; after stealthily getting his ring size, after pouring over designs, gemstones, engravings, after finally landing on the perfect ring for the love of his life, he was returning it to the jeweler.  Alex wanted to laugh at how absurd the situation was, but he thought better of it.  It wouldn’t look good if the President’s son started laughing hysterically in public, now would it.

The jeweler had cleared out her shop at Cash’s request, and she smiled when Alex entered.  “Mr. Claremont-Diaz,” she said, leaning on the counter.  “I didn’t think I’d be seeing you again.  What brings you in?”  Alex approached the counter, his hands in his pockets.  “Well,” he said, sounding sheepish.”  “I…uh…need to return this…”  He pulled the ring box from his pocket and set it on the counter, and the jeweler stared.  “Oh, Alex, I’m so sorry.”  But Alex wasn’t frowning, he wasn’t upset.  He looked…happy?

Champagne, chocolate covered strawberries, takeout from Alex’s favorite dive down the block (because Henry still wasn’t great at cooking), David in a little tuxedo, candles on every surface, copies of Le Monde littering the ground and tables.  “Baby,” Alex said.  “What’s all this?”  Henry pressed a flute of champagne into Alex’s hand and a kiss to his lips.  “Can’t a man spoil his boyfriend?” was Henry’s rebuttal, and Alex laughed.  “I guess, but I feel like you have an ulterior motive here, babe.”

There had indeed been an ulterior motive.  Henry had cleared the dishes away after dinner and returned to Alex only to drop to one knee before him.  “Henry, wha-”  “Hush, darling,” Henry said.  “I have loved you since I first saw you in Rio, and I spent years pining for a man I thought I could never have.  Then you blew back into my life and stole my heart, and I never want it back.  Alexander Gabriel Claremont-Diaz, I love you.  I have loved you for every moment of my life, and I will love you for every moment, with every breath, for the rest of my life.  My love, will you marry me?”

Alex tapped his fingers on the counter.  “Yeah, turns out I won’t be needing that.”  The jeweler was about to offer her apologies again when Alex pulled his left hand from his pocket.  “Because Henry beat me to it.”  On his finger was a silver band studded with little diamonds, and on his face was the widest, dopiest smile imaginable.  “Oh, well congratulations!  Unfortunately because yours was a custom piece, I’m unable to accept a return on it.”

“Ah,” Alex replied, and he supposed that made sense.  Henry’s ring was also a silver band, though his was engraved with roses–the Tudor rose for England and yellow roses for Texas.  There was an engraving on the inside too, two short words: History, Huh?  “Can I suggest something?” the jeweler asked, and Alex nodded.  “Maybe use it for his wedding band?  I could easily have one made for you to match, if that’s the direction you guys want to go.”

Alex smiled, the thought of wedding bands setting a riot of butterflies loose in his stomach.  “I’ll have to ask him about that,” he said.  “Thank you, sorry to bother you.”  “Oh please,” the jeweler said.  “You’re not a bother.  Plus, you cleared out my store long enough for me to take my lunch break.”

Alex made his way home, where Henry was waiting in the living room.  “Turns out I can’t return it,” he explained, accepting his fiance’s (God, would he ever get used to calling Henry his fiance?) kiss.  “Why not?”  It was then that Alex realized Henry hadn’t seen the ring.  Henry had proposed, Alex had tearfully accepted, and then they’d gotten rather distracted.  He hadn’t asked to see the ring Alex had made, and Alex hadn’t thought to offer.

“Well, I had it customized,” Alex explained, pulling the box from his jacket pocket, offering it to Henry.  Henry cracked it open, gasping softly when he saw the ring.  “Alex, this is…”  “It’s alright if you don’t want to wear it, baby.”  “Put it on me!”  Alex smiled.  “Really?”  “Yes, you cretin!  Put it on me!”  “Look at the inside first, baby.”  Henry did, letting out what sounded like a mix of a laugh and a sob.  “Dear God, I love you so damn much.  Now put my ring on me!”

Alex took the ring from him, sinking to one knee before him.  “You gave me a flowery speech, now it’s your turn.  Baby, the love of my fucking life, I understand now why I snuck into June’s room and stared at that picture of you in her magazine.  It’s because I was so stupidly in love with you, even then.  Henry George Edward James Fox-Moutchristen-Windsor, will you make me the happiest man ever and marry me?”

Now Henry was crying.  “Yes, you tosser, now kiss me.”  Alex stood, pulling Henry into his arms and kissing him deeply.  He slid the ring home, and Henry gazed at it adoringly.  “I love you.”  Alex kissed him again.  “I love you more.”  “Again, I believe that’s up for debate.”  Hours later, a post goes up on both Alex’s and Henry’s Instagrams; both the same picture with the same caption.  Their hands are the focus of the image: Alex’s resting atop Henry’s, their engagement rings shining in the evening light. The caption: Another chapter in the history books, coming up… 💍