#no more spelling errors or editing...I hope.

[mariasparrow]

Warriors is Hyrule's successor and Artemis is Hyrule's granddaughter!

So I've been doing some thinking, and I've come to believe that after all the blood, sweat, and tears Hyrule shed for his country, the end result is the prosperous kingdom we see in Hyrule Warriors! And that Artemis is his granddaughter!

I think we have strong evidence for it as well! During Hyrule's second adventure, he reads from a scroll that only a "Great King" could. Zelda II legendary difficulty could be seen, in-universe, as a trial of Hyrule's worthiness to receive Kingship. Which the Downfall Era desperately needs after its Prince was corrupted and his sister cursed.

Through his skill and refusal to give up, Hyrule triumphs over both the monsters and the dark side of his own soul. And he retrieves the Triforce of Courage needed to awaken Aurora (the Sleeping Princess of AoL).

Judging from the kiss she gave him at the end, I'd say she's rather smittened!

(Art by Kikker-Oma for me from Fan Joy July, used with her permission- isn't she great!)

With the Triforce in one hand, his Fae-blood in the other, and Aurora at his side, Hyrule brings his kingdom out of the Downfall and into a new golden age with his power and street smarts. He is called the Fae-King and the Traveling King because he rarely stays in one castle to long -he loves traveling to much, and uses it to help expand Hyrule while Aurora minds court and their kids. She's called the Gentle Queen for bring back the old culture. Hyrule's Fae blood is why faeries are such allies in Warriors Era, in remembrance of their brother.

But of course, evil is lingering. Remember Ganon floating spirit fragments, and how they were locked under heavy duty chains all through out Hyrule Warriors? I'll bet that was Hyrule's attempt to beat his blood curse (TM), and that upon his death, he ordered his body to be split apart and lain to rest in separate locations.

Needless to say, Aurora didn't help with this, she couldn't take it. But she managed the seal to buy time...

Until their granddaughter came of age.

Art belongs to @linkeduniverse

I can't be the only one who thinks Artemis seems a little more...Fae-like than Goddess in Hyrule Warriors. She's wild, bold, hands-on and leads from the front, and has STRONG magic. I like to think a great deal of that comes from her grandfather. Maybe her parents died young, so Artemis was raised by Hyrule and Aurora, who adored her and taught her everything they knew. Aurora taught her music magic, ancient history and legends (and fashion, cause that didn't come from Hyrule). Hyrule taught her battle magic, fencing, and survival skills that come in handy when she's disguised as Sheik (he also taught her his thunder spell). That's how she can do Hyrule's sword beams with her kunai in the game. His pet name for her was "Little Fairy." She adored them right back.

It would be rather poetic, if the granddaughter of the most passive Zelda (but still interesting and one of my favorite!) ends up the most active.

When Artemis saw that Ganon's forces had defiled her grandfather's resting places to retrieve his spirit fragments she was inconsolable...and FURIOUS. She loved her grandparents and vows that evil will not destroy all they suffered and bled to build. She will defend their legacy will all the magic and will power she has. Fortunately, she has her own Hero to help her seal evil right back where it belongs.

[zillychu]

designs for a zine piece! enjoy some background story my illustration never needed under the read more (fair warning I did NOT edit this at all):

newbie mage apprentices Sam and Tucker who became friends bc they're kinda… the ones at the bottom of their class and struggle the most, for different reasons. they become besties over time and practice together!

except one night, something goes terribly wrong. they spent the last few nights preparing for a project, a bigger spell that needs an intricate circle with precise measurements to work. but when they try to activate it, well… 

oops. they summoned a demon.

which is, for one, extremely illegal. only certified demonologists are allowed to summon demons because they're so dangerous. anything less than a perfect binding circle and thoroughly researched info on the demon, including their true name, is even remotely safe.

but, weirdly enough… the demon seems just as surprised as they are. as Sam and Tuck frantically try to figure out how to dispel the demon, they realize–oh god, did their circle actually sufficiently bind the demon? it can't leave. they watch the demon tentatively poke it's claws into the air around the boundary, and watch it fizzle, retreating back with a strained hiss.

okay. okay, they can do this. without death looming over their heads, they can figure out how to send the demon back. it's cool, it's fine. except while they leaf through their books, they notice the demon watching them. it looks kind of… curious. timid. interested in what they're doing. it catches them noticing his staring, and it. apologizes? it seems flustered?

weird, okay. they keep looking, and the demon starts talking. at first, little comments to itself. mumbles that soon get just loud enough to hear. little “ooh, is that a telescope?" and “is that what fire looks like up here?" and “that must be for making charcoal…”

Sam is the one brave enough to be like "are all demons as chatty as you??” and the demon gets flustered again, apologizing. says he's just never been topside before, he's only read about humans in tomes. oh wow is that the moon outside? it really IS blue up here! is it always blue? what are you doing up? I thought humans slept at night?

Sam and Tuck can't help getting pulled in with the demon's genuine curiosity. they're wary though, since they know demons can be clever, conniving. there's a number of ways a demon can get the upper hand on a summoner who has them bound. if he gets their full names, gets them to smudge and break the circle… there could also be ways they aren't aware of. so they consider their words carefully, but engage in some chatter while they research.

it's almost morning by the time they find a way to send the demon back–but as they prepare the spell, the demon says WAIT WAIT and they stop, uncertain. the demon starts stammering out how this is weird but like… he really had fun tonight. he doesn't get to just hang out much, especially with anyone his age.

Tuck is like “how do you know our ages??" and the demon points out "oh, you said something about Paulie’s 18th birthday party, so I thought…” and they're both like oh shit we didn't even notice we did that?

“Paulina" Sam corrects in her dumbfounded stupor. 

“Right, Paulina!" the demon snaps his fingers, but quickly loses his confidence when Sam and Tuck continue to stare at him like they're not sure what's going on. he coughs and fidgets and says “um, well, I was just wondering, I guess… if you wanted to summon me another time, I wouldn't mind. you see those circles there? yeah, that's what summoned me. the candles helped too I think. oh, it doesn't need all those runes though, probably don't want to redraw all those.”

Sam and Tuck are practically gawking, but… for some reason, this demon looks so sincere. so much like them, awkward and lonely and genuinely curious.

it's a bad idea. a terrible one, even. the demon probably noticed they're newbies and not demonologists. it could be hoping they make an error in their circle, or mess up a candle, or reveal their names on accident. 

But, well. They're stupid. they're also eager for anything to help them in school, and too empathetic for their own good. they send the demon off with a yeah, no. they then think about it for a week, and end up summoning the demon against their better judgment.

the demon is shocked and so happy, they can't help but be a little endeared. they lay down some ground rules, take care to be as safe as possible… and soon, this demon that introduces himself as “Phantom" becomes a nightly visitor. they talk about their worlds, find out they share a lot of common interests, and help each other in their studies. which, hello, demons also study? bro are you serious??

they play games, laugh till their ribs hurt, and open up to each other on a far deeper level than anyone expected. over time, Phantom becomes a true friend.

Sam and Tuck quietly begin to lament the fact Phantom is stuck in that damn circle. they want to take him places, let him see the human world he seems so interested in. they want to paint his stupid claws and noogie him between his dumb horns and hug him.

but it's an astronomical risk. it's legal for a demonologist with a proper permit, but it's still considered a grave taboo to grant access to a demon outside a circle. there's just too much at risk. demons can be dangerous enough to lay waste to entire towns, take multiple teams of military-rank mages to take down.

they wouldn't risk it… if they hadn't snuck into the library’s restricted section and copy a page from a demonologist book that gives them good framework for a contract. they make some edits to it though, giving Phantom at least a little wiggle room to protect himself if need be. and allow him use of transformation magic so he can hide somehow. but they spend weeks making sure they have airtight wording to ensure Phantom can't cause anyone or anything any substantial harm. 

when they finally bring the contract to Phantom, he's stunned. he cries. nothing needs to be said, they all know the gravity of their proposal. even if they ask for proof of Phantom's trust in turn, first. they ask for his full name, so they can bind him. just temporarily. but in that moment, they'll have full control over him. they could instead tell Phantom to serve them, force him to obey their every order. even if it's just for a moment, giving them his full name with the proper circle and incantation, is putting his life in their hands. 

Phantom, with tears still in his eyes, smiles warmly and nods. with only a breath to steel himself, he gives them his full name. Daniel James Fenton.

magic sparks in the circle, and Sam and Tuck finish the incantation. ethereal chains sprout up to wrap around Phantom's arms and legs, which makes him jump–but the unwavering trust in his eyes makes the two humans choke up.

they release the binding. all that's left is to break the containment barrier in the circle, so Phantom can walk free.

“Uh, about that…” Phantom laughs sheepishly… then proceeds to step outside of the circle, merely wincing when the barrier zaps around him.

Sam and Tucker gawk. Phantom scratches his neck. “Y-yeah, so… your barrier circle was already broken that first night. It's, uh… right over there. You missed a spot.”

abject horror overcomes them because this entire time Phantom's been visiting, he could have broken out? EASILY?? THEY WOULD HAVE BEEN DEAD.

Tucker falls to his knees, but soon starts to laugh. it's kind of hysterical at first but slowly, he and Sam are genuinely laughing. they're so STUPID, and Phantom is the most un-demonlike demon they've ever HEARD of. Phantom is still flustered, stammering out apologies because he wasn't trying to deceive them or anything! he just didn't want to scare them! without a proper containment circle they technically couldn't send him back either, so he just… went back using his own magic each time they “dispelled" him. 

once they've calmed down, Phantom morphs his body into a human form–which shock Sam and Tuck, because uh, only elite demons are capable of that. they were expecting an animal, or straight up going invisible. Phantom laughs it off, says he just, spent a lot of time practicing bc he's so interested in the human world (not a lie, but). he proceeds to adopt the nickname Danny, and they all have FUN WONDERFUL SHENANIGANS

(and sometime in the near future, when faced with something truly threatening he needs to protect them from, Danny reveals that. well. their contract also had some holes in it. and he's had access to his full demon power this whole time. whoopsie! it's a good thing he genuinely loves them and doesn't want to hurt anyone, or their asses would be SO dead lol)

they're about as normal about his full demon form as you'd expect from me btw:

[empty-blog-for-lurking]

Oh also i forgot to add for Lance-

They are better as a part of a dynamic- I think Lance is one of the characters who specifically requires to have a dynamic with others in order to truly reach his full potential. Even though Lance wants to standout, his greatest strengths lie in him being support, whether to be emotional one or sniper cover (Which again leans into him being contradiction, truly the bisexual man of all time). Lance works best when he is working with people, especially when it comes to filling out gaps the other person can't cover (whether it is trying to push Hunk out of his comfort zone, getting Keith to stop and think before running off, trying to form connection with Pidge who is trying to work alone etc (s1 is full of such examples))

To me it's like he wants to be the star of the show when in actually he works best as the production manager

@sockdooe

Lance/hunk/shiro for character opinion bingo :3?

Hi!! Thanks for asking!!!!

Lance-

Everyone but me is wrong about them<3- Source: trust me bro. But ok seriously, everyone is going to have their own opinions and interpretations and they are more or less valid. I get that! And i also get that people are just having fun! I really do! I am not trying to be fun police! But also there is so much in the fandom that is Just......plain wrong whether it's coming from Lance stans or Lance haters or Keith stans who ship kl, i don't even know where to begin with. And even if i did know, if i started listing all of them we'll be here all day. Ok i think my biggest gripe is this insistence that if kl (or anu Keith ship really) had became canon it could have saved vld, cause just no. No it won't. The writers hate their characters of colour and the Love Keith, if kl had became canon Lance would have just been reduced to being Keith's eye candy. Neither would making him Black paladin. Just look at what happened to Shiro and Kuron

They got done dirty by the fans- Kl shippers insisting that their fanon 'fixed' Lance and said fanon is Lance having every nuance or complexity removed with only things remaining is either his insecurities and him having a crush on Keith my beloathed. Please i need most fans (especially Keith stans) away from him, doesn't matter what their feelings about Lance are, all of them somehow come up with worse canon

They got done dirty by the creators- Everyone and their mother has talked about this in great detail but still. Just. A farmer?!?! A FARMER?!?!?!!? Also apparently him moving to Altea even though he spent so much time missing Earth like?!??! I would have accepted that if it's because he is Allura's Prince Consort or a diplomat or something but this is just bullshit

Wasted Potential- Lance could have had such a great arc about being support and humility and finding his own place with his own strength but noOooOoo it's instead about how he'll only ever be second choice to fucking Keith

I am constantly going insane rotating him in my brain like a fork in a microwave- this fucker has been in my brain for 7 goddamn years and he is neither planning to leave nor planning to pay rent

Popular ships for this character suck- i actually like most of his ships except klance, the blight that it is (i enjoy it too occasionally but it's so everywhere it's getting on my nerves, free my boy i am tired of Keith)

Overrated- I love him. He is my most favorite character ever, but people need to shut up about him forever <333, especially because that fanon guy is not my son

Constantly listening to songs and mentally holding them up like paint swatches- i have. So. Many animatic ideas around Lance. So many of them

I WANT TO STUDY THEM LIKE COCKROACH- He's my little labrat and i am an unethical scientist about to have fun experimenting. He's just so intriguing, i think what's intriguing to me about is how much messy, contradictory and human he is as a character

FREE SPACE- Maybe i am bit biased here but in my opinion vld should have had three main focal points. Shiro, as he has connection with galra empire and the horrors they were committing in the present and the universe that needs to be rescued, saved and healed. Allura, as she has connection with the lions and their legend as well as the past of the galran empire and what was destroyed in their wake and seeks justice, healing, and remembrance. And finally, Lance, as he's connected to every member of the new team, no matter how uncertain and one sided those bonds were, to Earth and his family who never even knew about those dangers and are unprepared, what's at stake and the future that needs to be defended and protected.

What's wrong with him (affectionate)- He's so goddamn annoying<33333

Not Enough ScreenTime- Or atleast he definitely he needed more focus

My opinions would be received by most fans as akin to hitting a wasps nest with baseball bat- other than my dislike for kl? I think allurance was fine, yes the relationship needed to be better written. But So was every relationship in this goddamn show buddy, as a matter is one of the only ones that actually had some development for both the characters. Also Lance should have stayed the blue paladin "He deserved to be someone's first choice" HE WAS ALREADY SOMEONE'S FIRST CHOICE!!! HE WAS BLUE'S FIRST CHOICE!!!! BLUE WAITED FOR HIM FOR 10,000 YEARS!!! SHE CHOSE HIM OVER THE BEST PILOTS, THE BEST ENGINEERS, THE BEST SCIENTIST AND SO MANY OTHERS!!!!! *rattling and gnawing on my cage bars*

BITING AND KILLING AND MAIMING THEM AND DEATH AND VIOLENCE- I am definitely Normal™ about him. Yup. Just don't look at my blog

Hunk-

i have answered him here!

Shiro-

They got done dirty by the fans- I do not get this opinion that Shiro staying dead. Like Shiro had been dead since s2 and only came back at the end of s6 to be a side character. Him staying alive was not the reason behind the quality of the show decreasing. Also the entire "who should be the Black Paladin" debate is pointless the answer will always be the guy who fought Zarkon in the Astral Plane for it.

They got done dirty by the creators- Literally so fucking dirty, Shiro really goes from one of the most interesting character with compelling backstory integral to the plot, to a side character who may as well just not be there. The absolute bs of it all

Wasted Potential- Shiro had So Much going for him as a character, but alas

They work better as a part of a dynamic- Shiro and Black Lion parallel mirrored dynamic my beloved they'll never make me hate you <333. Cause seriously it's the most Lion-Paladin bond in the whole show, their shared similar trauma and that too from same people!!! How can you not???

The popular ships for this character suck- maybe this is just me being a Keith hater, but Shiro's dynamic with literally character was far more compelling over his dynamic with Keith. Like with Allura? Shared trauma from same people and also shared responsibility. With Pidge? Trying to find the same people they love. With Hunk? Two characters who struggle with their neurodivergency and need stability. With Lance? Character foils. In all these cases Shiro is in an equal position and feels like a character. With Keith however, platonic or romantic, the entire relationship is about how Keith feels about Shiro, and how sad Keith gets when Shiro gets hurt/missing etc etc, and just a completely one sided mess that is less about them equals and more about putting Keith on pedestal, which is just utterly boring nothing burger to me

I want to study them like a cockroach- Tell me your secrets boy <33

Not enough screen time- Yeah </3

My opinions would be received by most fans as akin to hitting a wasps nest with baseball bat- Like i said i find his dynamic with Keith at best boring and at worst detrimental to his character in canon in Doylist perspective way. Which sucks cause like it's fan favorite relationship in both canon and fanon and is also almost everywhere.

Also i know twinganes (Kuron and Shiro being bros) is really popular but i personally cant see them get along. Especially at first. Shiro canonically doesn't like Kuron and refers to him as an evil clone, which understandable, Shiro did spend months dead in astral plane while Kuron (unknowingly) took over his life and then goes on to nearly kill his friends. But it is also so unfair to Kuron who is not only dead but also no one is mourning AND his body is being used by Shiro. So if Kuron were to survive all That™ i doubt he'll have high opinions about Shiro as well (hence my post s8 au)

And even if all that didn't happen i still think they'll have problems. Like at best they will be civil and friendly but also deeply uncomfortable around each other (Kuron cuz clone trauma and Shiro cuz Haggar trauma). At worst it's just this-

I like them but i don't think about him much- confession i personally found Kuron to be much more compelling as a character. Shiro is a good character! I get why people like him!!! But also if i had to choose between the two it would be Kuron without a doubt. Shiro just doesn't hit the brainrot levels of likability to me

[auroreliis]

OMGGG!! Imagine platonic yandere batfam and reader on a vacation at the beach on a privat Island. Would you like to do headcanons/or a scenario (you can decide) of it. Hope you have a good day/night!!

Aaaaa anon <333 We had the same idea <3333 Thank you so much!!!

Perhaps a little late for summer, but inspiration only struck me now!!! <33

Also, I wrote this on like 4 energy drinks so forgive any spelling errors

Also it's not edited or anything...

If reception is positive on this one, I might make a part 2 with the other characters, so let me know if you'd be interested in that :)

Platonic Yandere!Batfamily

Summary: The Batfamily takes you to their private island for summer vacation.

It was just you. Just you and the gently lapping of the waves against the shore. Finally, some alone time. You had to make the most of it, since you were convinced that it wouldn’t last long.

It was about 8 o’clock in the morning. Bruce, Damian and Stephanie had left the island for whatever reason. Dick was either at home or at main beach, looking for you. You had come here about half an hour ago, surely they would’ve noticed your absence and the fact that you had left your phone at home. They were going to chip you eventually, you had come to accept that. However, you certainly enjoyed the time you had away from them whenever they couldn’t find you.

Jason was probably inside the villa. He wasn’t particularly fond of the heat outside. Either that or he’d gone swimming to cool off. Cassandra could’ve been looking for you. Maybe she had already found you.

Instinctively, you looked around. No one was in sight. Then again, she probably wouldn’t let herself be seen anyway.

The shore surrounding the island was wider at the main beach. Here, it was only a few feet wide. Behind you laid a sparse palm forest. Cassandra could certainly hide there. Whatever. You wouldn’t find her anyway. Besides, she would have probably come to talk to you. Probably.

Where would Duke and Tim be? At the villa, right? Where else would they be? Hopefully not looking for you.

Now that you had considered it, you were probably being observed by someone. And if you weren’t, then soon, you would be.

Whatever, just take your mind off it. Think of something else, like…the beautiful beach you’re at. Yes, it is much nicer to think about the gentle breeze. How wonderful. Just you, the beach and the ocean.

You hadn’t ever been at a private beach, so this was a unique experience. All of this belonged to you. Well it actually belonged to your new family, but still, it almost belonged to you.

Your soul nearly left your body at the sound of rustling coming from behind you.

“Hi”, Tim waved nervously after you had spotted him sneaking up on you.

You didn’t feel like answering, so you just turned back to the ocean. Wanting to engage with you somehow, Tim sat down on the sand next to you.

“So…what are you doing here?”, he kept looking at you, but you tried very hard to ignore his gaze.

“Just sitting.”

“Well, I can tell that, but why here? Why not on the main beach? Dick and Jason are scrambling to find you there.”

You had thought that was the case.

“I wanted to be alone.”, you emphasized every word.

He chuckles nervously. That was it. He didn’t say anything. That told you everything you needed to know: He was only here to annoy you.

“How did you even find me?”, you turned to him, your voice tinged with frustration.

“Find you? Oh, I wasn’t looking for you, I just wanted to go somewhere alone. You know, somewhere peaceful”, he turned to the ocean, as though in deep thought,”I get it, you know. You also want to be alone sometimes.”

If he “gets it”, then why is he always right behind you?

“I think you and I have a lot more in common than you think”, he said, crossing his arms on his propped up knees and turning to you.

The audacity to say something like that made you shudder.

“I think you’re full of shit”, you wouldn’t let him think that he’s getting closer to you. You could never like someone like him.

He tried to hide his frown, but you saw right through him,”That’s pretty mean, you know. I’m just trying to connect with you.”

He didn’t say it directly, but you knew his words were a warning. Bruce had talked to you about this. You were allowed to have your opinions about them, but being overly rude was a violation of the rules—rules, which he made up. In other words, if Tim thought you were being mean, then you were being mean. Against this, there would be no arguing.

Well, you know what they say: If you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all.

“Ahem, I’m trying to connect with you…”, Tim persisted. You merely pursed your lips and nodded.

Noticing the awkward silence, he spoke again, ”So, will you go swimming?”

You shook your head.

He nodded, “Yes, it isn’t that hot yet, so there’s no need to cool off, I suppose.”

“Well”, he turned to you with a smile, his determination unwavering, “What would you like for breakfast? Alfred already started preparing something. Let’s head back and let him know what you want before he finishes.” But wouldn’t Alfred already know your preference? Perhaps this was Tim’s idea of “bonding”…

Still, his offer seemed tempting, since you hadn’t eaten yet. However, you weren’t jumping at the idea of going back only to place your order with Alfred and then get dragged off to go swimming by either Jason or Dick. Or worse, Tim.

Only now that you felt the hopelessness more intensely, did you begin to question things. Why did Tim always find you first. And how? They didn’t secretly chip you, did they?

…Did they?

Asking them wouldn’t result in an honest answer, so you didn’t really see a point in it. But how else would you figure it out?

You supposed the best person to ask was Bruce—AKA. Dad. He was likely the only person who would answer truthfully…as long as you behaved properly, that is.

“Is dad home yet?”, you turned to Tim, ignoring his previous rambling.

“Oh uh, I’m not sure. Shall we go check together?”, Tim scrambled to use every opportunity he was given, despite being caught off guard.

Perhaps it won’t get any better than this: Mediocre at best.

“Fine, let’s go.”

From the corner of your eye, after Tim grabbed your hand, you saw his smile widen remarkably.

The walk was long and awkward. Your older brother was desperately trying to talk about something, anything, that would catch your interest. Meanwhile, you were silent for the most part.

You had to admit, the villa was quite nice (if only it came without the addition of desperate, touch starved reprobates). Despite having your own room, you were forced to share a room—and often even a bed—with someone, unless you gained Bruce’s special favour for the day.

Luckily, Damian, the person you had to share the room with last night, had left very early in the morning. You weren’t sure how long ago, though, since the letter he’d written to inform you of his absence was…detailed, to say the least. Surely it would’ve taken him more than an hour to even come up with it, let alone write it. What a waster of paper. He didn’t have to say anything at all…

Entering the cool living room made you relax enough to finally engage with Tim, “Um…are Jay and Dick home, or…?”

In respone, he laughed, “Oh, no. I didn’t tell them that you’re with me. They’re probably still looking for you at the main beach. Dick went on about how we shouldn’t let you go anywhere alone in case you drowned or something like that.”

“Wait, what? But I know how to swim! Please tell Bruce that Dick’s rule is unnecessary…I already have enough restrictions, don’t I?” You panicked.

“Well…” He grinned, “That depends on what you’ll do for me in exchange.”

Even sighing was tiring for you at this point, “Fine, I’ll sleep in your room tonight.”

“Until the end of the week, or no deal.”

Holding back a groan, you responded, “Fine, whatever, just…work your magic, okay?” He nodded eagerly.

“Greeting, Masters. Breakfast is almost prepared”, Alfred appeared from the kitchen.

“Hi. Alfred, did you make-”

“Your favourite? Of course I did”, Alfred interrupted.

“…Right.” You should’ve known, to be fair, “Well, when will it be done?”

“When Master Bruce and Master Damian return”

“What about Steph? Isn’t she returning?” If she didn’t return at all, your life would improve considerably.

“Oh, Steph? She wanted to stay in the city for a bit, probably to buy you gifts or something”, Tim responds in Alfred’s stead.

“Gifts…? You don’t think she’ll, you know, make me play dress-up again, right?”, the thought sent a shiver down your spine. In this heat? There was no way you’d wear layers upon layers of clothes just because she was bored. You immediately left the living room, leaving Tim and Alfred behind.

While waiting for everyone to return to eat breakfast, you went and hid somewhere in the villa to avoid social interractions. And hopefully the heat. It was very hot.

[rafeyscurtainbangs]

“𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐠𝐧𝐞 𝐑𝐨𝐨𝐦” - 𝐀 𝐑𝐚𝐟𝐞 𝐂𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐧 𝐎𝐧𝐞 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐭

𝙵𝚛𝚊𝚝!𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚡 𝚂𝚝𝚛𝚒𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚛!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚡 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛’𝚜 𝚋𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚎

warnings: Rafe and reader are messy, quick to forgive, filthy, f/f/m, f/f, f/m, bisexual reader, oral male receiving, tit job, spit kink, cum play, snowballing, name calling, pet names, unprotected p in v, breakup -> makeup, first time ‘I love you’s’, reader purposefully makes Rafe jealous, pathetic!rafe, mating press, reader slaps rafe

𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟐 𝐭𝐨 “𝐁𝐥𝐮𝐞 𝐅𝐥𝐚𝐦𝐞” 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐢𝐭 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐛𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐞. 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 “𝐢𝐧 𝐜𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐭 𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐰”.

✨𝐈𝐧 𝐜𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐭, 𝐁𝐥𝐮𝐞 𝐅𝐥𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐚𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐉𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐨𝐰 𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐠 “𝐀𝐥𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐲 𝐁𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐅𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬.” 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐫. 𝐇𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐂𝐚𝐥𝐢 𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐚 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐛. 𝐑𝐚𝐟𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐠𝐞. 𝐖𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐚𝐭 𝐚 𝐟𝐫𝐚𝐭 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐲, 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫, 𝐑𝐚𝐟𝐞, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐂𝐚𝐥𝐢 𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐮𝐩 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞. 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐑𝐚𝐟𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞…✨

lightly edited

a/n: sorry, babes. I've been so sick between stomach surgery and strep this took forever but I wanted to get it out before kinkmas. I hope it’s okay. Low key kinda bad but good smut imo 💕 Sorry in advance for spelling errors and plot holes 😭

5K

Reader's POV:

𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖ ⋆ ࣪. ˖ ࣪⭑ ˖ ࣪ ٬ ุ๋ ⸱ ⊹ ｡✧ ﾟ˖ flashback

You had completed your midterms, confident enough to feel like you aced it after studying. You went out with friends, Rafe, pulling his group along as well. It was a huge crowd: laughing, dancing, drinking, finally relaxing after a long week of studying, but cutting loose only made him tense up more, the outfit you wore fading his smile. The things that he couldn’t get enough of at the start just seemed to be a point of concern now.

Rafe’s big arm wrapped around your waist, holding you tight like he was worried you’d slip away. He finally eased up after teasing from your friends, letting you go on the dancefloor reluctantly. Rafe’s eyes only left you to scan the crowd, making sure no one was eyeing you up. Rafe, resting bitch face, sat a little deeper, his strong arms crossed over his tight chest.

Of course, JJ took notice. Seizing the opportunity to fuck with Rafe in the simplest way possible. Merely saying, “Hey, pretty girl,” as he shuffled past the two of you, walking toward the bar to order another round, his baby blue eyes roaming your body before looking at his frat brother, greeting him smugly. The look you gave JJ could have burned a hole through that pretty boy's face; your little exchange made the corners of his lips curl up into a smirk.

Rafe was done. The night was far from over. But, all his worries about coming out to this bar, with these people, with you dressed like this, were coming true. When you got in the cab, the accusations started flying.

“Dressin’ like that in front of these boys? Are you fuckin’ kidding me right now? What the hell did you think was going to happen? Huh? Why the hell did he come over in the first place if you weren’t smilin’ at him or some shit? Did you notice the way he was lookin’ at you? Do you even fuckin’ care? No. Because you love it. Fuckin’ whore-” Your hand connected with his cheek fast and hard, sending the whole car silent.

“I don’t know who the fuck you think your talkin’ to, Rafe, but it ain’t me,” you hissed as you look up at the man before you, red-cheeked and glossy-eyed. “I wore this for you. I only care about you. If I didn’t care about you, do you think I’d be putting up with all this shit? Huh?”

“M’sorry, I called you that. Aight? But, you were doin’ just fine when you were drinkin’ with me. We were havin’ a good time-”

“Were we?” You lift your voice as he lies through his teeth. “You hated every second of that, Rafe.”

“Bullshit.”

“You held onto me like you were afraid I was gonna run away-”

”I just wanted to be with you. Okay? Your friends were pullin’ you away. Sorry for wanting to have a night out with my girlfriend-”

“You’re smothering me, Rafe.”

“Why is that a fuckin’ issue? You’re mad at me because I’m giving you attention. You’re mad because I care? You’re mad because I want you for myself. Do you hear how ridiculous you sound?”

”Do you want me to feel bad for you, Rafe? Because I don’t. You knew who I was when you started dating me. I’m not some girl that’ll stand by you and look pretty. I won’t apologize for dressing like a woman and wanting to have some fun.”

“So you don’t have any fun with me. Is that what I’m hearing? Am I not giving you enough attention? You gotta dress like this and get it from someone else?”

“What?”

”’Cause if that’s what you were tryin’ to do, Princess. You succeed. M’sure JJ’s gonna be strokin’ his shit thinkin’ about you.”

“JJ?” You ask tiredly. “You think I dressed like this for Maybank? Are you kidding me?”

”M’Not.”

”5th and Main,” you call out to the driver. “Can you stop at 5th and Main first? Please?”

”Nah. Nah. Fuck that-”

”Fuck that? Fuck you,” you snap as your frustration bubbles over. “If you think I’m going back to the frat with you, you’re crazy.”

“I AM fuckin’ crazy. Jesus fuck. She’s not goin’ home,” Rafe shouts at you, then the driver.

“Pull over the car,” you level your voice.

“Don’t,” Rafe challenges him through the rearview mirror. The driver pulls over regardless, making Rafe let out a growl of frustration, pushing open the door before the vehicle can even roll to a complete stop.

You climb out of the car, two blocks away from your place, wrapping your arms tightly around your waist as you bound toward your place. Tears gather in your eyes, hazing your vision. You hear a step of big feet walking behind you, making your anger swell inside.

“Go away, Rafe.”

“You’re not walkin’ home alone. If you’re going to be a fuckin’ brat and not talk to me, I don’t give a fuck. If you think lettin’ you walk alone downtown on a Friday night, you’re fucking delusional.”

“Asshole,” you grumble.

“Ungratful fucking bitch. Jesus Christ,” he mumbles.

“Oh yeah, Rafe?” You call back as you turn on your heels, walking toward him fast, making his eyes double as he catches the outrage in your eyes. “Call me a fuckin’ bitch one more time and see what happens.” You step in, shoving him back, making him scoff and suck his teeth.

“‘See what happens?’” He laughs weakly. “‘See what happens, princess?’ You fuckin’ serious right now?” He asks as he looks down at you in irritation.

“Can only say that shit when I have my back turned, fuckin’ pussy.”

“You’re drunk,” he scoffs.

“I should be, Rafe! I should be drunk right now. I should be drinkin’ and dancin’ with you and my friends. I should be dragging you off the dancefloor because I can’t take my hands off you. I shouldn’t be fightin’ with you right now. I deserve to be happy. I deserve to have someone who makes me feel secure. Your insecurity is bringin’ the both of us down.”

“I’m not insecure-”

”The fuck you aren’t,” you cut him off as you turn and walk away. “I need space.”

“Space? This isn’t high school. The fuck do you need space for? You either want me or you don’t.”

“I want you, Rafe. I don’t want whoever the fuck this is,” you sneer.

“You walk away from me, and we’re fuckin’ done. All right?”

“Done? So, a break isn’t an option. You can even let me have space; it's just one or the other.”

“If you liked me, sweetheart, that wouldn’t be a fuckin’ worry of yours. Hey, where the hell are you goin’?” He barks as you press toward your place. “Did you hear what I said?”

“Obviously.” You scoff before looking back, watching his beautiful blue eyes glisten under the streetlight— the man biting his cheek and flaring his nostrils to hold back his tears between controlled breaths.

“You’re such a bitch. You know that?” He asks, barely able to press the words past his quivering lips.

“Yeah, Rafe? A bitch you couldn’t handle. I’ve been me since the start… The only person that changed is you.”

Rafe lowers his head, nodding, accepting defeat for the moment, or maybe he’s planning his next dig. Either way, you were done. You turn around, walking toward your place, climbing the stairs before back at him. His eyes are still on you, making sure you’re safe before rubbing the tears of frustration out of his eyes and pulling out his phone.

𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖ ⋆ ࣪. ˖ ࣪⭑ ˖ ࣪ ٬ ุ๋ ⸱ ⊹ ｡✧ ﾟ˖ the blue flame…

“What should the caption be?” You ask with a devilish smile as you lay back on the couch, fingers hovering over your phone as Cali taps her chin, thinking of something that would piss Rafe off the most.

“Something simple. I don’t think it’s going to take a lot.” You laugh at her understatement of the century. Drumming your fingers, you play around with a few captions yourself as Cali workshops her own while dusting on some setting powder in the mirror. “Miss me?”

“Hmm… I mean, I want him to think I’m unbothered.”

“You are unbothered.”

“For sure,” you sigh.

”Umm… What about ‘she’s back and hotter than ever?’ I can send it to my account. You’ll look completely unbothered, which you are-“

“Completely,” you laugh as you let her do your dirty work.

“Sent,” she looks up at you with a smile.

“Ahh!” You squeal as you see the notification come in, and before you can even open the post to double-tap, he’s there…

Picture liked by: Rafe Cameron

You tilt into the mirror, the bright lights of the vanity casting a warm glow on your face as you slick on some shimmery gloss. You take out your perfume, spritzing on your signature scent. Turning to the side you check your reflection, seeing a very different woman than before, one you hadn’t seen in a while. Your curves are dressed in pink lace lingerie purchased by Rafe, a matching bubble gum-colored wig on your head, styled just right.

Cali breezes past; her energy, infectious. Deja vu sets in as she presses a quick kiss on your cheek. “Old times, baby,” she sings as her eyes sparkle with excitement.

“Old times,” you coo as you give her a little turn in your Pleaser heels.

“Oh, sweetheart,” she hums. “You’re about to ruin that man’s life.” She gestures toward the stage, widening your eyes as you put two and two together.

“He’s here?” You ask, biting back an anxious smile.

“First one in the house, baby doll.” She struts toward you, pulling you in for a hug, grounding you in the moment as your thoughts race away. This isn’t just about dancing and games; it’s about reclaiming my space, my confidence, who I was before I met him too… “Let him know who he lost. Huh?” She looks back at you lovingly as she brushes your hair into place.

You walk toward the stage, heart thudding with excitement, wig bouncing with every leggy stride. Shit. You look through the slight gap in the curtain, seeing Rafe from afar. His eyes are locked on his phone as a girl dances before him, paying her no attention. He looks up, making your stomach fall as his eyes set on yours; he blinks a few times to ensure he’s seeing this just right as the music shifts.

Rafe swallows thickly, adjusting in his seat uneasily, looking around at his frat brothers to clock where their attention is paid. You step out onto the stage, feeling yourself in your element again. Avoiding his eye contact, you glance around the dim room, pulling attention from every corner as you approach the beat. Cheers and whistles fill the space—a familiar chorus of sounds that have you smiling through the pressure.

You can feel the burn of Rafe’s gaze, heavy and intense, but you choose to ignore it as you step toward the end of the stage; toward the pole—toward Rafe and his brothers.

Shifting to your knees, you crawl to his frat brother, watching from the corner of your eye as Rafe’s expressions changes. The tension between the two of you is thick. “Holy shit,” the other boy groans as you roll to your back, hands working up your body, toiling over the pink set that your ex bought you. You roll away, moving toward the pole, feeling the pull of Rafe still as you step away.

You grab the bar and flick your hair back to the beat drop, feeling the music pulse through you as you start to find your rhythm. “Y/n?” That same boy gossips to the boys next to him, the news spreading like wildfire a second later.

“Ain’t that your ex, Rafey?” You hear JJ chime in and feel your first sting of regret. “Just fuckin’ killin’ it. Aren’t you, princess?” He continues to needle as the rest of the boys pile on. Rafe’s brothers hoop and holler as he throws daggers at the group—his stare looking like it could fuckin’ kill.

And in that moment you can’t help but think back to the fight you had with Rafe, the one where he called ‘a fuckin’ whore’. The one where he questioned your loyalty to him, spouting off that you might be doing this all for the very boy who’s praising you now. That little ‘hey, pretty girl’ JJ said in passing just to grind his gears seemed ludicrous now. That slight sting of regret quickly soothed by the balm of pleasure.

Grabbing the pole, you spin around it with slight work, the spotlight shining as you danced. The crowd cheered louder and louder as the expression on Rafe’s face pulled darker and darker. His anger only fueling your performance.

“Take it all,” one of the boys cheers, tossing cash like rain. You turn around, smiling at the man on the opposite side of Rafe, thanking him with a look as you work lower and lower. The brunette moves forward, tucking a fifty-dollar bill in your bra strap with a smile. “For you, baby,” he hums in a smooth, inviting voice as the crowd roars. Rafe’s frat brother leans in closer, and so do you, lowering his voice slightly. “I’m reserving the champagne room, and I want you and only you. Alright?”

“What?” You ask with a curious tip of your head, playing innocent, but you heard him loud and clear.

“The champagne room. You and me,” he calls a little louder with a wicked smirk plastered on his lips. You smile at him, not agreeing or disagreeing, watching as Rafe pushes to his feet before your eyes can even turn to his— a mix of regret and helplessness as he shoves his way through the thick crowd toward the bar as your song closes out.

You crash down on the couch and pull out your phone, pounting your lip, half-expecting some message from Rafe. Nothing… You open Instagram, scanning Cali’s page, checking the post.

Rafe Cameron: My beautiful girl

Warmth floods through your body, butterflies swirling in your stomach. He could have sent a nasty DM telling you to take it down; he could have cursed out all the thirsty commenters, but he chose this route. My girl… Not at the moment, but your heart melted at his words.

“You saw it too?” Cali asks teasingly.

“Mhmm…” You admit, biting back your giddy smile.

“And, how does that make you feel, beautiful girl? Swooning?”

You chuckle and nod, feeling your cheeks burn from your smile. “A little.”

Before you can say anymore, the stage manager pops her head through the door. “Ladies, one of those boys reserved the champagne room. He specifically requested the both of you.” Your stomach turns, thinking about Rafe’s frat brother’s offer and the thought of him making good on his word.

The idea of dancing on the stage was one thing… Dancing privately? That would not happen. Not if I ever wanted to work things out with Rafe.

“Umm,” your friend hums uneasily from the other end of the room, picking up on the same thing.

“You two in or are you out? The guy who reserved the champagne room paid a lot to buy his brother out. He’s got it reserved until the bar close.” The anxiety you felt is snuffed out in an instant, a surge of happiness courses through you the next. Rafe. You nod excitedly as Cali rises on her heels as the night changes.

You take a deep breath, walking toward the Champagne Room, heart pounding with the bass. You look toward the stage, all of the boys long gone. Maybe they’re all in there? You step toward the curtain, hearing the glass clinking as a drink’s poured.

Cali grabs the curtain, pulling it back, drawing a wave of relief with it. You see your handsome ex sitting behind the table with three glasses of champagne drawn, thankful you only had to share him with Cali. You smile at him, watching the tension in his shoulders physically fall as he sees your expression, the man not knowing what to expect; the moment reminiscent of your first night together, how excited you were to climb into the hot tub with him.

“Hey, baby,” he grins, his voice deep and warm—eyes never leaving yours. Your heart swells at the sound of his voice. “This alright?” He asks, still giving you control of the situation, a genuine tone letting you know he was still giving you an out if this isn’t something you wanted to deal with. If you no longer wanted this… If you no longer wanted him.

“Mhmm,” you hum as you walk closer with Cali.

“I wanted to make sure you both felt comfortable,” he replies, glancing briefly at her before returning his focus to you. “I didn’t want you to feel pressured, especially since we’re… you know, figuring things out.”

“The entire night, Cameron?” Cali cuts in teasingly as she climbs on the table.

“Couldn’t take any risks,” Rafe sighs blissfully, watching you grab her hand to step on the table. The song changes overhead, filling the space around you.

Your heart pounds and you and Cali move in perfect harmony, bodies flowing and swaying to the music as if you’d never left. You catch his gaze again, causing a rush of adrenaline to course through your system. You can see the adoration in his eyes and the smile playing on his lips with every stolen glimpse.

He can't take his eyes off of you, that feeling that you lost coming back to you fast. You twirl and spin around the pole, catching your ex’s broad expression—a mixture of awe and lust. Rafe’s had more lap dances than he could count, but he’s never seen you like this.

As the song shifts, the beat transforms into something slower, the vibe in the room shifting to match the rhythm. You climb to your knees, crawling toward Rafe just as you did to his brother before. He smiles and shakes his head, leaning in as you draw nearer. The air between you, charged; tension thick, begging to be cut.

In one swift motion, he reaches for you, tugging you off the table and onto his lap, making you gasp as you settle into his embrace. The warmth of his body envelopes you, his rich cologne muddling your senses. “Princess. You’re killin’ me,” he groans, in a voice low and needy; his hold firm yet gently—the perfect cocktail.

“We just started, Rafey,” you whisper against his lips.

“Before we go any further, you gotta know how sorry I am, baby.”

“I know,” you whisper earnestly. “I know, Rafe.” You stare back into his pretty blue eyes, watching them shimmer under the neon club lights just like they had the week before when he was fighting back the tears like he is right now, but this time, he looks a little more hopeful. “Let’s have a little fun tonight. We can talk about it later. Yeah?” You echo those exact words you said to him on the first night you were together, making him chuckle and smile, feeling it too.

“Whatever you want. I’m down.”

“Atta boy.”

His hands hold onto your waist, letting loose enough for you to turn, pressing your back against his broad chest and your heels firmly planted on the ground, not wanting to let go now that he has you close.

Rafe’s big hands rest against the fullness of your thighs, moving higher, playing with the hem of your panties before skimming your stomach, resting on your tits. You grab his wrists, lifting his hands, and he doesn’t fight you, knowing he’s getting away with murder already, given the situation. “What does the sign say, baby boy?” Cali asks mockingly. Rafe’s head falls back on the back of the booth as he lets out a sleazy laugh. Rafe follows your lead, tucking his hands under his thighs.

“No touchin’.”

“No touchin’, Cameron,” you smile. You roll your body into him as Cali steps down from the table. Your curves push into him, each grind and roll making him sweep for a breath. "Remember this, Daddy?" You whisper against his ear in a taunting hum, feeling as his heartbeat racing against your back.

He turns toward you, tucking himself in your neck, chuckling warmly, his voice fanning against your skin as you hook your hand around, clutching him for support, manicured nails scratching into his hair at the nape of his neck. “You feel how hard I am right now, doll? Been thinkin’ about this shit every night. ‘Course I remember.”

“Look at you bein’ a good boy,” Cali praises as Rafe keeps his hands to himself, his jaw clenched tight as he tries to keep himself in check.

“Tryin’ Cals…” He soughs as his eyes fall down your body, picturing you riding him just like this. “Fuck, baby. You looked amazing up there,” Rafe praises as you swivel your ass on top of him. “So fuckin’ perfect.”

“Our girl always looks good,” Cali coos as she hooks her finger under your chin, guiding your lips to hers. Cali leans in, her mouth barely grazing over yours, turning it into a soft, lingering kiss. “Just give me the word, and I’m out,” she smiles along your lips, her sultry voice gentle, for your ears only.

“Thank you, Cals,” you hum, watching Rafe shift closer, hoping you’ll invite him in too. You pull back slightly, glancing at Rafe, catching the heat in his stare. He swallows hard, every inch of him screaming with desire, muscles flexed to keep his hands at bay, fully lost in the moment. You look back at Cali, cocking your head slightly, nodding at Rafe, a secret conversation shared between the two of you.

"What are you two doing? Huh?" He asks through a breathy laugh, feigning innocence, but his dark, lust-hazed stare says the complete opposite.

"Just making sure you're comfortable," you smile as you cup his cheeks. Rafe melts into your touch as you lean in, the man humming as you kiss the corner of his mouth. Rafe chases your lips as you pull away; lashes fluttering open as your hands fall down his body. You pop each button open, feeling the moment's thrill intensify with each peek of tanned skin. "Look at you," you whisper desperately as you eye the man before you.

“So handsome,” Cali mumbles as she pushes your hair off your shoulder, kissing along your neck.

"More comfortable now," Rafe quips, reveling in your playful teasing. His broad, muscular chest rises and falls with his quick breathing.“Fuck… Ya’ll aren't doin’ this for everyone? Right?” He pants with a joking bite as his eyes follow you.

You roll your eyes and smile as you play with the hardware of Rafe’s belt as Cali toys with the clasps of your lingerie, peeling the lace off your skin before grabbing your tits. “Only for you.”You lower his zipper; Rafe quickly takes his cue, fighting his jeans off his thighs as he watches Cali’s hands and lips caress you. Rafe pulls his boxers down, fat cock painfully hard, smacking his toned stomach with an upward curve.

You reach for him, guiding him where to sit, pulling him to the edge of the seat. Wrapping your fingers around his long dick you stroke him nice and slow with your hands as Cali gathers your hair from behind, pulling it into a makeshift ponytail, the sight making the big frat boy’s eyes roll back in his skull.

You swirl your tongue around his pulsing head, taking a few shallow, teasing bobs that has his abs flexing tight. You drag off his cock, leaving behind a wet mess, saliva strung from his red tip to your pillowy lips. “So beautiful. Fucking hell, sweetheart. More… Give it to me,” he groans drunkenly as you move even closer, resting his girthy dick between your breasts. Cali reaches around your body, pushing your plush tits around him, making him suck his bottom lip between his teeth.

His hooded eyes finally leave yours, falling down your perfect body, landing where his throbbing cock lay nestled between you. “Fuck me, Rafe.”

“Oh, fuck,” Rafe moans in reply; forearms and biceps flexing as he quickly pitches his hips upward, fucking himself with your tits. He moans like a fucking pornstar, panting and huffing as he uses your body like a toy.

Precum beads at the tip of his cock, rolling down the side before coating his length as he continues to stroke. You lay out your tongue for him, looking for a little more, and without being told, he smiles down at you devilishly, tilting in just enough to spit in your mouth. The wet drips off your tongue, falling between your breasts onto his cock. Cali jiggles your tits, playing a cruel game with him, making his thick thighs clench under your hold.

"Just killin’ me… C’mon," Rafe moans, still using your breasts to stroke his length. “Gonna cum. Where do you want it, princess?”

“In our mouths,” you smile, making him let out your name through a shaky breath. The two of you move on either side of his trembling body, gliding your tongues up the side of his long, thick dick to the tip.

“Fuckkkk,” he curses and groans, releasing his arms from under his thighs to grip the back of the leather bench as your tongues swirl together, teasing the tip of his cock again and again until he’s cumming in spurts, the two of you catching his load on your lips and tongue continuing to kiss eachother as you wrap your fingers around his dick, coaxing out the last bit of his release.

Cali reaches over, pinching your cheeks, snowballing his cum into your mouth. Smiling at you as you swallow it all, cleaning off your pouty bottom lip with her thumb.

Rafe loses all control, reaching for you and pulling you toward his lips. Your mouths crash together, your heart fluttering with warmth at his softness and familiar taste that has shivers falling down your spine. With each swirl and flick of your tongue against his leaves, you feel like you could float away.

He slows his pace, wrapping his strong arm around your body, pulling you into him, his dewy skin clinging to yours. “Can we have a minute, Cals,” Rafe mumbles against your lips. Her heels click against the floor, already at the curtain, smiling delightedly for you and him, giving you a little wink before slipping out.

“I’m sorry, baby,” he whispers just above the thump of the music, his deep voice laced with raw vulnerability. “I was… I don’t even have the right words for how stupid I was. My jealousy. I know it was out of control. I just… I was jealous, especially when I saw other guys looking at you. I was scared of losing you.”

“I never gave you a reason to worry, Rafe…”

“I know, princess. I never wanted to make you feel like I didn’t trust you or make you feel suffocated. I see now how unfair I was being. I was lettin’ my insecurity get the better of me. You were right, baby.” The regret is clear, painted all over his handsome face. His broad shoulders slump at the weight of his regret; his forehead tilts against yours. “Called you some awful shit too…”

“You did…”

“Please, forgive me,” he begs. “I just need you in my life. You make everything better. I’ll treat you right. Yeah? Just please.”

“I forgive you, baby-”

“Need you to say it,” he whispers. “Tell me you're my mine.”

“I’m your yours.”

“God, that sounds so fuckin’ good,” he drawls, his voice thick like honey. “You mean everything to me. I'm not perfect. Clearly… We both know that, but I’m not going to fuck up like I did. I promise. Okay? You mean too much to me.”

“Okay, baby,” you smile warmly as your forehead rests against his.

“You know, I love you.”

You brush your thumbs along his cheeks, relishing those sweet words he's never said before. "I love you too," you whisper back, trembling with excitement and emotion.

“Yeah?” He asks happily as he pulls you in a little closer, elated, somehow worried you wouldn’t say it back.

“Mhmm… I love you, baby,” you mumble against his lips.

“I love you, princess… So much. Holy shit,” he groans as he buries himself in your neck, hugging you tight. “Worst fuckin’ week of my life, baby—Missed you. Fuck, I missed you, pretty girl. N’shit… I forgot how filthy you are,” he teases as he kisses along your neck, tickling your sides, making you squirm away, but he’s just too strong.

“Rafe, stop,” you scold through a giggle. He pulls back, relaxing in the booth, beckoning you with his stare as he licks his perfect lips. “Maybe I am… But you fuckin’ love it,” you smile as you tilt closer with each word that falls from your tongue.

“I’m a slut for you. That shit’s clear, princess.”

“Crystal clear,” you whisper as your lips brush him gently. Rafe lifts his hand, flicking his wrist, catching the time on his watch.

“Got an hour left, pretty,” he smiles as his big hands move lower, playing with the hem of your panties. You rise on your heels, letting the man pull your lingerie over your curves. He kisses your skin, lingering as the pink lace falls around your ankles.

“I’m all yours,” you breathe as he pulls you back onto his lap.

You suck in a breath as he cups your wet pussy in his big hand before curling two fingers, easing them inside you slowly as your head falls back. "That's it… Just take it, baby,” he groans, working them in and out of you at the perfect pace.

You lean forward, wrapping your hands around his neck, panting into his warm neck as he curls his fingers inside you, rolling his big thumb on your clit. Your pussy squelches with each push of his hand, making him release a hungry moan. Rafe lifts you effortlessly, laying you on your back, burying himself between your thighs, lips locking on your puffy clit. Your hips buck, but he strong-arms you, pinning your hips in place, lapping at your cunt.

“Rafe… Please,” you whimper, teetering on the edge of ecstasy as he plunges his tongue in your greedy hole, throwing you over the edge. Your fingers twist into his carmel-colored strands, tugging as your pleasure releases, pulsing around his tongue as he brushes his fingers quickly; Rafe moaning into your pussy between breaths.

Your body melts into the booth, hips rocking into him as his tongue dances, kisses, and drags through your soaked folds. He lets out a raspy, satisfied chuckle as he crawls closer, jerking his cock in his big fist before pressing it against your glossy hole. You reach for a breath, tears of pleasure soaking your cheeks already, looking up at the man who has no intention to stop ‘til you properly fucked out.

You gasp as he thrusts into you roughly, knocking the breath out of your chest. “Finally, princess… Mpfhh. Fuckin’ missed this shit,” he croons as he hooks your legs over his wide shoulders, pressing his weight into you to see how deep he can get.

“Fuck, Daddy,” you whimper, eyes rolling back as he drags his cock out before before thrusting deep again. Your clear heels clack with every snap of his hips; Rafe, hitting all the right spots, making you see stars.

“You like this shit, princess. Love bein’ stuffed full of me. Huh?”

“Yes. Yes, Fuck.” You whine as he punctuates your words with a rough thrust.

Rafe switches positions, grabbing your wrists, pinning them above your head with a single hand. He uses the other to clasp your chin, guiding your lips to his. His tongue slides along yours, hints of your arousal and his melting together, along with the sweetness of his lips, leaving you whimpering against his mouth. “Just pullin’ me in,” he grunts as your body swallows him up.

“Rafe… Fuck. Shit,” You whine as he snakes his other hand up, fingers interlocking with yours.

"Me too, princess," he whispers against your lips, toned hips speeding up, chasing his orgasm and yours.

Just like that, your body lets go, heels digging into the leather seat, hands squeezing Rafe’s tightly as your wet walls pulse around his thick length; Rafe fills you with white ropes of cum as he pushes his load deeper and deeper ‘til all that’s left is panting breathes and ‘I love you’s.’

𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖ ⋆ ࣪. ˖ ࣪⭑ ˖ ࣪ ٬ ุ๋ ⸱ ⊹ ｡✧ ﾟ˖

tags: @loserboysandlithium @rafesthroatbaby @kisses4angels @watchmerora @babygorewhore @buckybarnessweetheart @anamiad00msday @littlelamy @namelesslosers @cades-outsider @romaescapes @starkeysprincess @oxpogues4lifexo @unrealmirrorball @sleepiibunniiii @gri959 @rafesgiirl @daryldixon83 @akobx @hyperfixationgirl @lhhlver @rrafeswhore @slut-4-gojo

[cheyisagirlkisser]

Hi can u pls do like a tag team type thing with Ellie Williams and vi or vi and Caitlyn please. Thank you!

Hi anon, thank you for this request. You gave me the perfect opportunity to try writing a threesome! I hope you enjoy this, I know it's more Vi-centric but I love my girl Ellie too.

Content: 1.5k words, Slight virgin/corruption kink (reader is their good girl and they gotta take her virginity!!), fingering (r! receiving), nipple-play (r! receiving), strap-on sex (r! receiving), use of pet names, not edited so may have some spelling errors

“I know what you want, angel.”

Vi’s voice cuts through your daydream. You were stuck on the way Ellie’s veins were visible through her hands and how you wanted her fingers deep inside you..you shouldn’t, ‘cause she’s supposed to be just a friend. Still, you’re a sick slut who’s imagining Ellie fucking you into outer space.

Not only that, but Vi, too. Her back, oh fuck..it’s so hard to think when she is wearing a wife-beater and her burly build is on display. You wanna claw into her back-

You’re so fucking obsessed with your two best friends, it’s unreal.

Ellie, for one, is a dream. She’s more standoffish and quiet—not shy, but prefers to keep to herself unless she’s with you and Vi. She feels comfortable, but she’s not like Vi in really any way that matters.

Where Ellie is into playing the guitar and reading comics, Vi’s into boxing and sports. You’re their cute best friend who somehow puts up with their bullshit. And right now, it’s so hard to study when Ellie suddenly shifts closer, and Vi’s words are on the other side of you, words spoken softly but teasingly into your ear.

You’re supposed to be doing peer review in your bedroom..

“W-What are you even talking about, Vi?!” You feign innocence.

Vi only laughs, and your core is heating up. How the hell did you go from playful banter to the room suddenly dripping with sexual tension, laid on so thick you swear it’s already filling your nostrils.

“Don’t act dumb, angel. We see the way you look at us. C’mon..” Her voice is alluring, soft, and it doesn’t help that Ellie is just staring at you with hungry eyes. She isn’t like Vi, not teasing and comedic when it comes to romance. That’s what is so enticing about the situation you’ve found yourself in; you have two completely different but beautiful girls in your bed! You’re somehow getting more pussy than the average masc, and you’re sporting stocking for fuck’s sake.

When your face goes all read and your fingers are trembling, it almost goes unnoticed by Ellie the way your thighs are squeezing together. She lays a hand on your left thigh, the side of you she’s sitting next to, and slowly traces her touch up and down, soft patterns as if she’s making sure you’re really into all this.

Ellie and Vi both know you’re into this..these bitches read your journal in which you talked about getting drilled by both their straps!

“Gonna get all shy on us now, angel?” Vi murmurs into your ear, lips hardly making contact with your soft skin. The funniest thing about all of this is that Ellie is the one touching you and she hasn’t said a single word. It’s Vi guiding this, and Ellie adds onto your neediness.

Then, you feel Vi’s soft lips trace over the side of your neck. You could’ve came right then and there, and Vi earned herself a gasp.

“P-Please..” Is all you can even say. Your brain is much too fucked to process anything else, to think of anything but getting fucked by your two friends who you cherish more than anything in this world.

Your thighs squeeze and Ellie leans closer into you. Now, her lips are smothering the opposite side of your neck. You’re currently feeling all the blood in your body rush down to your clit. Your panties are as soaked as they’d be at a water park.

“Please what? C’mon, baby..tell me ‘n Els what you need.”

“I need you to make me feel good!”

You sounded so breathless already, it was pretty cute. They couldn’t deny you when you were like this.

-

You were left in absolutely but your thigh-high stockings—Vi and Ellie mutually agreed to keep those on. You’re laid out, Vi holding your legs open so you don’t shy away, with your slick pussy on full display. You’re already a goner.

Vi has a huge dildo attached to the harness around her waist. You did not know she brought that monster. Ellie definitely knew this, it had to be planned.

Vi needs to prep you first, she doesn’t wanna hurt her and Ellie’s good girl. Her fingers first trail over your pussy lips, eliciting already desperate moans from you. Ellie is watching and you swear she has hearts in her eyes. She pressed her middle finger into your pussy slightly, making you immediately clench your thighs together around her hand, but she doesn’t let up because you’re giving her soft little little pleas, “p-please, Vi..”, all she wants is to please you.

“Fuck, you’re so tight.” She groans as she slides her finger knuckles deep into your sopping pussy, watching your reaction to make sure you’re doing okay, and then slowly pulls out and adds another, stretching you open slowly as your inner walls swallow her fingers up.

Ellie is sat beside your sprawled body, groping your tits and leaning down to swallow your little whines of need with her mouth.

Kissing Ellie is like another level of heaven. It’s what you imagine being high to be like, if you ever actually smoked weed. Her lips are so soft, so warm. Her tongue licks all over your mouth and it makes you moan even more. When she pulls away, you’re breathless.

“Think you can take my dick, baby?” Vi inquires, and you immediately let out a slutty moan.

“I can, I promise!! Please give it to me, Vi..”

Vi nearly loses her shit when she hears that. It’s always the good girls that are most desperate, am I right?

“Give it to her, Vi. She’ll take it.” Ellie assures the pink-haired girl, and it makes you even wetter that she is talking to Vi as if you’re not there, like you’re basically too dumbed down to understand what she is talking about.

Vi doesn’t seem to wanna waste much time. She pulls her fingers out slowly, making you whine in protest before letting Ellie lick them clean. She spits down and rubs it all over the silicone cock, then she runs the cock up and down along your pussy, making you dizzy with need.

She finally parts your pussy lips and slides just the tip in when she’s got enough of your slick on her dick, and your legs automatically wrap around her waist, making her almost say “fuck it” and pound into you like you’re just some whore.

Ellie watches with hunger as Vi slowly fucks her cock into you. There’s less resistance with all of your juices and Vi’s own..lubricant, but she can practically tell your pussy clamping down on the cock. She realizes just how long she has been sitting in complete awe and leans down to wrap her lips around one of your nipples, making you moan even louder and tangle your fingers into Ellie’s hair.

Getting fucked feels so dirty, and yet so, so good. You’ve got Vi pounding into you now, the ridges of the cock slamming into your spongey walls right where you need it. You’ve got Ellie’s eager tongue flicking against your nipples, taking turns with each while her hand is between you and Vi’s bodies, rubbing tight circles onto your clit.

Your eyes want to just close and feel what these girls are giving you, but you can’t. The sight is so embarrassing for you to watch, but it makes it all the more better to just watch Vi groan as she thrusts into you, and watch as Ellie softly bites your tits.

“Baby’s getting close, hm?” Vi teases, making you involuntarily clench on her cock, only hastening your upcoming orgasm. Ellie’s mouth leaves your nipple, much to your disappointment, to whisper into your ear.

“Cum for us.” Her words are so vulgar, but the soft pecks she plants on your neck is what really sends you over.

You cry out their names like you’re worshipping them, frantically grasping onto Ellie’s hair and tugging at it to keep her mouth all over you, her tongue on your throat, and Vi is saying the most filthy things you’ve ever heard her say as your orgasm crashes through you like waves.

“Fuckkk, swear I can feel your pretty little cunt milk me.”

“There you go, good girl..just cum for me and Ellie.”

When you finally come down from your high, Vi slows down and Ellie’s mouth leaves your neck to plant a few soft kisses on your lips, her fingers leaving your clit to squeeze your hand.

You’re all blissed out, cute little stockings still adorned, and panting with closed eyes.

You just know you’re gonna get the best aftercare.

[satxnsupreme666]

Even after all these years: Agatha Harkness/Agnes x Fem!Reader

Masterlist

Summary: You´re a witch, your mother was killed by witch-hunters and you end up in New Salem where you meet Agatha, you fall in love with her but what happens when the coven accuses her of practicing dark magic?

Words: 3000+

Warnings: Fem reader, angst (well kind of), but apart from that, I do not think there’s something else.

Author´s notes:

This was one of the first stories I wrote three years ago, I had posted them on Tumblr on my old account, but due to my mental health, I had to take a break from Tumblr and the toxicity and hate that had suddenly increased, I deleted all of my stories and my old account, now I have decided to upload them again here on Tumblr and also on Ao3.

Again, as this was one of the first stories I wrote for Agatha Harkness is a little bit short, I will be uploading the rest of the stories from time to time, I have to edit them and make sure they are legible enough and with not a lot of grammatical errors.

I hope you enjoy!

If you enjoy, could you comment, like or reblog? it would help a lot really ♥️

You were born in 1670, in Massachusetts, and as well as your mother, you were a witch.

While growing up, your mother taught you some basic spells that you could perform without any problem, you were just 6 years old and your mother said you held a lot of power, she was very proud that at such a young age, you could cast spells without making a lot of effort, it was so natural and easy for you.

You were always a curious child, so when your showed signs of wanting to know more, your mother started to teach everything else she knew, from making potions to different spells and to conjure stronger things, she was willing to show and teach you every single thing that she had learnt before.

From your usual spot at the table you always watched her make beverages, different creams, herbal potions and liquids all made out of herbs, she used them to help different people, she made potions that could disappear the effects of a poisoning, and she had a huge knowledge about all different kind of herbs, you were amazed about that, you really admired your mother.

You were just 7 years old when you started to read her herbal books and when you didn’t understand a word you would ask her the meaning, and while you were entertained or doing any other thing, she was always making sure you were alright, and that you were safe, that’s why she had casted a spell all around your hidden cottage, so that no one, not even the witch-hunters could find both of you

On your 9th birthday she gave you a book of spells, the cover of the book was hard, it was made out of leather, you passed your hand through the cover to feel the texture and you smiled, you were amazed, it contained thousands of spells which you started to practice right away, for you it was a dream come true, you were eager to start learning each one of them, so you tried to memorize almost all of them, your mother would always watch you while she read a book in a corner, sitting on a chair, reading out loud in your room or just reading silently outside in the backyard.

In 1690 at night you were preparing an herbal tea that accelerated the healing process of wounds, but in the middle of the preparation you heard gunshots coming from outside your mother’s cottage

Panic filled your entire body but you tried to remain calm, remembering all of the protection and conjuring spells that your mother had taught you, you were not about to back off, ready to attack whoever was outside the once hidden cottage, but before you could conjure a fireball the door flew open, revealing your panicked mother running straight towards you

When your eyes landed on her panicked figure, worry started to grow inside you, you had never seen her in such an altered state, before you could even ask her what was wrong or what had happened to her she spoke first, trying to catch her breath she almost spat her words

 -“You have to run way, I thought I had kept you safe and that they would never find us, I was so wrong, they’re here y/n, there are at least 7 of them on their way” -

 You knew right away of about whom she was talking about, witch-hunters

-“Mom we can leave together! We can run together; I’m not going to leave you here!”-

 - “Oh, my sweet y/n, I can’t, I won’t make it, they will take you too”-

 You frowned in confusion, what was she talking about? You couldn’t understand, until you realized, she had been holding her side with her left hand, she had been shot and tears started to run through your cheeks

- “c'mon mom, we can make it, I- I can give you something to help you heal the wound, I won’t leave you here!”-

 You took you mother’s free hand in your own ones, you were shaking, trembling, and fear was consuming you

 -“It’s too late for me, it was a silver bullet, it will take longer for me to heal, hours and we don’t have time, here take this”-

 She took her hand out of yours and with her shaking hand ripped her necklace and then took the brooch from her lilac collar blouse, and handed them to you

 -“Take this with you and never forget, I will always be with you”-  she put her hand on you face, caressing your cheek, she wiped away the fresh tears that had fallen from your eyes and put her own forehead against yours

 -“I won’t leave you; I can’t leave you here to die”-  You were choking on your own tears and she was sobbing as well as you-

 She shushed you and said that everything was going to be ok

-“I love you y/n”-  your mother said and put her hand in your temple and started to chant something in an unknown language, before you had the chance to ask something you realized what was happening, smoke of a baby blue color surrounded you and before closing your eyes you saw 5 men entering into your cottage yelling to each other to catch the witch, you started to scream and tried to conjure something but suddenly everything went black, you didn’t feel your mother’s grip loosening and then disappearing, but when you opened your eyes again, you were in the middle of a misty forest, hastily you turned your head to the sides and looked for you mother, you were shocked.

Tightening the grip around the necklace and the brooch that you mother gave you, she was nowhere to be seen, you did not know what to do so you started to run through the thick forest.

What had happened? How did you end up in the middle of a forest? But most important where was you mother? suddenly you remembered everything, and images of the witch Hunters entering to your house took your breath away, you gasped for air, everything around you was blurry and you felt dizzy, you tried to keep yourself steady and tried to reach for something, to keep your balance and not to fall, but you tripped over something and lost your balance, you were too tired to even try to hold onto something, so you just let yourself fall, you waited for the hard hit against the rough surface, but the hit never came, instead you felt  two strong arms catching you and tightened around your waist, you tried to see who had caught you and lifted your head a little but the only thing that you had caught a glimpse of was of some long strands of dark-brown hair before you passed away.

The sunrays started to bother you, why had your mother opened the shutters, you were sure it was 7 in the morning because of the way you felt, your body ached and you didn’t want to rise from bed, it was weird, a smell of lavender and vanilla filled your nostrils, it was so good, something you had never smelled before, it was calming and you felt relaxed, you turned yourself to the other side of the bed to hug your pillow, but you found nothing, it was strange, you didn’t remember your mother taking your pillow to be washed, but it was at that instant, in which you remembered everything that had happened the day before, you opened your eyes and hastily sat down on the bed, ready to leave but you felt a hand against your shoulder and you were greeted by a pair of piercing baby blue eyes. The woman in front of you gently pushed you back against the soft purple mattress and you laid back.

-“ You need to calm down, sweetheart you fainted last night, I caught you before you could hit the ground, why were you alone in the woods at night?”-

-“ My mother! I need to go back to look for her, she’s in danger, some witch hunters shot her and I do not know what happened, she said something in another language and the next thing I knew I was standing in the middle of a forest and…” -  You stopped rambling and started to touch your clothes and you hair, Agatha understood that you were looking for something and took something out of her pocket dress, she gently touched your face to catch your attention and showed you her hand, your eyes became glossy, you stopped for a moment and slowly reached her hand with yours, she handed you the brooch and the pendant.

- “Sweetheart I’m sorry about what happened, those witch-hunters keep looking for us…” -  Before she kept talking, she looked at your palm and hers, she could feel your soft hand against hers and she changed what she was going to say next

  - “ I noticed you had this with you and I supposed it was yours, even though you fainted you still had a tight grip around this so I took it from your hand to keep it safe” -

 She looked at you in a curious way, you were mesmerized by her beauty, you had never seen such a beautiful woman like her, she radiated something else even though you could tell what it was, but you could feel it, before you could keep staring at her, you remembered her first words about the witch Hunters looking for you, you were surprised, did that mean that she was a witch too?

-“Are you a witch too?”-

She laughed about your question, her laugh was a little bit loud but at the same time it was kind of soothing, but you did not understand why she was laughing, she saw you frowning and stopped, she looked right in your eyes before speaking again with a serious look

- “We´re in New Salem, only witches with great power can enter this place, New Salem has been hidden for centuries, people who don’t have powers can´t enter, this place is totally invisible for humans, only witches like you and me can enter this place”- She stopped for a moment

- “So, you’ve never heard of New Salem?”-  She asked and you just shook your head

She looked surprised for a moment and gave you a quick look, a witch as powerful as you who could enter New Salem only could come from a mother or should have descendants with great power too, how came that you’ve never heard of the place, every powerful witch had been there before, the older witch in charge of the Coven had registered every witch that had been in New Salem

- “What is your name?”-  She asked

- “My name´s Y/N Le Fay, why do you ask?”- Your told her, confused in why she was suddenly interested in knowing your name

She seemed to be deep in her thoughts before talking again

“I was curious, and now that you told me your name, I will tell you mine, the name´s Agatha Harkness and now that we have introduced each other properly, it´s a pleasure to finally meet you dear”-

You smiled, she was very charming and you felt your face becoming hotter because you realised both of you had been holding hands all this time, you started to blush and Agatha found the fact interesting and cute.

-“What am I going to do now? – You asked, you still did not know what to do or what to think, by this time the witch-hunters had already taken your mother, and again you felt tears in the corner of your eyes threatening to fall, before you could do anything, Agatha pushed you to her chest, she was hugging you, and even if Agatha had just met you, she wanted to give you some comfort, her action only made you close your eyes and cry into her chest, she put her hand in your hair and stroke it, Agatha told you that everything was going to be ok, that the witch-hunters could not enter New Salem and that she would take care of you, by the time you had calmed down, you withdrew yourself from her and looked right into her eyes, she had no malice in her eyes and she had saved you, you felt safe with her and decided to give her a smile, maybe not everything was bad.

Since that day Agatha and you were inseparable, she presented you to the other witches and to the one in charge of everything, they let you stay and also gave you a room to sleep in, plus your room was next to Agatha´s room.

You still remembered the exact day when the older witch Madam Lane, the one in charge,  took you to your room and gave you new clothes, after examining every corner of the room and the ceiling you heard a slight knock on you door and went to answer, Agatha was standing right in front of you with some flowers and greeted you, again  –“Hi, I´m Agatha, your neighbour to the right”-  You started to laugh, she always had the power to make you smile even on your worse days, and that was one of the many things you loved about her, she was always so carefree, and she stood for herself, for you and for the things she believed in.

From time to time you would shut down remembering your mother and how much you missed her and you just wanted to lie on your bed and sleep without nobody interrupting you, but on those days Agatha had been there, all of the bad days, she would held you and stroke your hair or your back, she was so attentive, always asking if you were ok or if you needed something, without knowing you started to fall in love with her.

One day when you were studying some spells on a bench in the huge garden, one of the older witches of the coven came to your side, you tensed, you knew the other witches did not like you, Agatha was the one who made you feel safe and showed you how much she cared for you, you decided it would be better to leave the bench and as you were about to leave not wanting to bother the older witch, she grabbed the book you were reading, you tried to reach for it but she was stronger, she stood in front of you, blocking your sight

- “What are you going to do? How is it that a witch like you can be here anyway? You have never casted any powerful spells, you´re the weakest, also why Agatha would hang with someone like you though- “

She did not finish her last sentence because Agatha sent her flying to the other side of the garden, you were shocked, you watched her body colliding against the ground and before you knew Agatha was standing in front of her

She said something to her, you couldn’t hear what she said but when the girl finally stood, she tried to run, Agatha then came flying to your side, and hold your hand closer to her chest

“Are you alright? Did she do something to you?”-

She started to check for any injuries and when she did not find any injuries, she sighed in relief

-“Agatha what did you do? She´s going to tell to Madam Lane, she will ground you”-

You put your hand against her cheek and stroke it, you were so in love with her, you put your free hand on her neck and caressed the softness of her skin, she noticed you looking at her lips and took this as chance, she was a tad taller than you and she leaned her face to kiss you.

The kiss was soft and you loved the feeling of her lips against yours, you returned the kiss and she put her hands on your waist and brought you closer to her, when you feel the need to breathe again you separated a little and looked at her

-“I love you Agatha and I think I´ve done it since I first met you even if it sounds impossible”- You smiled at her and with your hand hooked one strand of her hair behind her ear, and then you caressed her cheek

“I love you too y/n and I think I´ve done it since I caught you stopping you from falling to the ground”-

You felt your heart full of love for this woman, you loved her with every piece of your heart

“Let me love you till the end of our lives; I will fix your heart and I will fill every empty space of it”

She whispered to you and you found yourself blushing, just as many other times when you were with her, she could not believe that you returned her feelings

-“Of course, I will let you love me, and I promised I will fill every part of your heart with my love too, what I feel for you I´ve never felt it before and it´s real” – You said back to her and you kissed her again

-“Also, thanks for saving me from that girl, you shouldn’t have done it, you will get yourself in trouble”- you said while stroking her cheek

-“Do not thank me my love, I will always have your back and I won´t let anyone hurt you, I will protect you with my life”- saying that she kissed you again, that was for sure the best day of your life.

On 1693 was the worst day of your life, the coven had taken Agatha for a trial, they said that Agatha had been playing with dark magic, you knew that was false, she had never told you anything related to dark magic, she could never, someone had said lies about her to madam Lane.

While she was been taken to the post, you were behind all of them yelling and begging them to let your girlfriend free, it was all a mistake.

Two witches were stopping you from getting free and also had put magical ropes to your hands, to prevent you from using your magic, you watched in horror as they tied you girlfriend to the post and while she was grunting with pain they tied their hands with magic too, you saw 10 witches surrounding your girlfriend and making a circle around her, in front of her was Madam Lane, you heard her asking if she was a witch, Agatha  said yes but Madam Lane said to her that she had betrayed the coven, but that was a lie, she could never! You tried to remove yourself from the two witches holding you, but they had a strong grip around both of your arms.

Before you could move again you heard Madam Lane accusing Agatha of practicing dark magic, your girlfriend said that she did not know anything of that crimes but Madam Lane told her to stop, you looked Agatha staying quiet for a moment before speaking again

-“I did not break your rules, they simply bent to my power”-

You gasped in shock; has she been lying to you all this time?

You looked at her with a lot of sadness in your eyes you could not believe, you told one another every single thing!

She looked at you and she could not stand the look in your face – “I´m sorry my love, I´m sorry I couldn’t help myself!”-

Tears started to run through your face, you were scared, even though she had lied to you, she did not deserve to die, you couldn’t stand the idea of her dying

- “Please Madam Lane, untie her, she´s sorry it was all mistake! You can´t burn her, she´s one of us!-

Before you could keep talking all the witches started to chant in Latin, you were confused, what were they doing? You saw your girlfriend struggling against the wooden post, and you began to worry too

Agatha looked at you and yelled to you “Do not worry my love, I will be ok, nothing will happen to me, we will be together just as we planned”- You saw the tears running through her cheeks and you couldn’t stop yourself from sobbing harder.

Your worry begins to grow harder when you saw the blue magic emanating from the hands of the witches

-“Stop! What are you doing!?”-

When your heard Agatha calling Madam Lane “mother” you felt yourself getting lost for words, Agatha never told you that she was her mother, she never mentioned it, and you never suspected anything, they rarely talk to each other, how was possible, how did you miss all of those things? However, your thoughts stopped and you screamed in horror as you watched the witches throwing their blue magic hurting Agatha, your girlfriend started to scream, she was in pain, you couldn’t stand watching her in pain, but when the blue magic turned purple, you were perplexed, was Agatha doing that? She stopped screaming and turned her head to look around her, the purple magic touched the witches and all of them started to agonize, they were starting to look like corpses, was Agatha consuming their power and their life? Her mother rose from the ground and she attacked Agatha, when her mother´s powers got to her, it was as if they were making her more powerful, she freed herself from the magical ropes and her hand and eyes glowed purple she released a huge amount of the power and all of the witches fell to the floor looking like corpses, one thing she did not realized it was that her magic had thrown you away hitting really hard a tree, you fell to the ground without her noticing.

When she was done with her mother, she turned her head hastily at her sides, she looked for you and you were nowhere to be seen, she panicked, so she ran and looked between the corpses, had you run away from her? Were you afraid of her now? She did not know what had happened, but when she took a glimpse of your dress, lying down on the ground she could not stop herself from screaming, she crouched down to take your body into her arms she could not believe it, she sobbed, she hugged and pressed your body against hers and told you how much she loved you, she had sworn to protect you and on the contrary she had hurt you, she could not believe it, she thought she had killed you, she thought you were dead because of her, she could not stand watching you like this because of her.

She took your face with her hands and caressed your face one more time, kissed your lips for the last time and stood up, she left your body on the ground and left, she would not love again.

｡ ˚ ︶︶✩︶︶‌ ₊ ˚ ︶︶✩︶︶‌ ｡˚｡ ˚ ︶︶✩︶︶‌ ₊ ˚ ︶︶✩︶︶‌ ｡˚

Agatha arrived to Westview, she had rehearsed her script one time, she was ready to knock on Wanda´s door, she changed her purple drees into a beautiful plaid dress, which matched exactly to the 50´s era, she even changed her hairstyle, when she decided she was ready she went straight to knock on Wanda´s, she was not looking when the door was opened, she was distracted by the plant she had in her hands, so she started to talk before looking at the person in front of her.

 - “Hello, dear, I´m Agnes, your neighbor to the right”-

However she stopped death in her tracks when she realized who was the person in front of her, she saw you, the person she thought she would never see again, a lot of thoughts passed through her head and she for once in her life did not know what to do, you the love of her life, you were right in front of her, was this faith to let her mend what she had done and get you back? You smiled at her, it was obvious that you were under Wanda´s mind control, and she wanted to cry, you were suffering on the inside and she could not do anything for now, Wanda would notice if someone broke away from her mind control so she decided she would help you, but how? Even after all these years, she still loved you the same.

[mint-yooxgi]

Fight or Flight Mini Masterlist

Fae!AU & Yandere!AU - Part of the CoDN Thrill of the Hunt Collab

Genre: Fantasy, Mature, Horror, Angst, Fluff, Smut

Pairing: Mingi X Reader

Words: 57,852 (Yes, you read that right, almost 57.9k words)

Rating: Mature - 18+ MDNI

Warnings and links found below the cut

Warnings: Please read the warnings carefully, as this is a very heavy story dealing with many dark topics. 8 ft tall Mingi. Slow burn. Violence: depiction of a massacre, a deer being slaughtered, as well as physical, verbal, sexual, and emotional, both alluded to and not. Blood and gore. Abuse: physical, emotional, verbal, and sexual, both alluded to and implied. Assault: physical, and sexual, both alluded to, implied, and attempted. OC has a really rough past, really this isn't for the faint of heart. Whipping, both alluded to, and done. Mentions of branding. Heavy themes of possession and ownership. Deception. Arson. Really, there's a lot of dark subject matter. Mingi falls hard and fast, thus, he simps a lot for the OC, but it's not a story written by me if Mingi doesn't simp for the OC. The reader is mentioned to be both tall and chubby, but it is not mentioned often, so it shouldn't disrupt the flow of the story when ready if you are not tall and/or chubby. I think that's everything, but if I missed something, please let me know! Smut: Biting/marking, outdoor sex, fingering (fem. rec), oral (fem. rec), hand job (male rec), come eating, overstimulation, Mingi has a dig bick, sex in a spring, really, it's very soft in comparison to the subject matter. This is a Yandere story, it will contain themes such as stalking, violence, obsession, possessive natures, and just general overall creepiness and swearing. You have been warned.

P.S. If there are any spelling or grammatical errors, please ignore them. I did my best through many rounds of editing, but some are liable to still slip through.

A/n: I am SO sorry this took me LITERALLY forever to complete. I meant to have this out so much earlier, and actually posted on time, but it turned out much, much longer than I ever anticipated it being. I'm really proud of how this story turned out, and I didn't want to split it into multiple parts because I felt it would take away from the story as a whole. I'm super excited for you all to read this one, as I had a tremendous amount of fun writing it, and I really hope you all love Mingi's and OC's journey as much as I do. Huge shoutout and thanks to @anyamaris and @kwanisms for listening to me ramble and rave about this story both before and during the writing process, and for always encouraging me while writing! Also, huge thank you to @sanjoongie for being so patient and understanding with me as I write this all out in full. I hope you all enjoy! As always feedback is greatly appreciated! Enjoy!~

Summary: Out of one horrible situation and into another, the cycle of abuse never stops. You've lived with monsters your whole life. So, what's one more?

P.P.S. Please don't let this flop guys. If you enjoyed it, please reblog!!!

→ Part One

→ Part Two

→ Part Three

→ Part Four

→ Part Five

→ Part Six {M}

[lyraoftheevergreens]

More To Love

Daemon Targaryen x Plus-size Wife

Daemon Targaryen x Stark!Reader

Smut! Minors do not engage! NSFW

Summary: His wife y/n Stark is beginning to feel insecure as she continues to gain wait with each child she bares him. He is the only one who can comfort his sobbing wife when they are forced to return to Kings Landing for a name day celebration for the princess.

Authors note: I suck at summaries. I wish I could just put “Daemon fucks the sad away. Like the good husband he is.” From one big girl to the next I hope you all enjoy this <3

Warnings: smutty smut smut, oral female receiving, p in v, Self degradation, Minor spelling and grammar errors. Semi edited

Word count: 2,280

Daemon Targaryen, Prince of Dragonstone, wielder of dark sister, rider of Caraxes, father to Baelon II, Aenar, Naerys, Aelor, Rhaena and Elaena. Husband to Y/n Stark. He married you when his brother ascended the throne, while it was no secret your family, house Stark, supported Rhaenys is claim to the throne. Your father had you marry Daemon to hopefully stop any retribution from there vote against Viserys. While your marriage was one of political duty it didn’t stop you from loving him nor he loving you. You left the north to join him in Kings landing, where you were to wed. You were just as wild as him, nothing was ever gonna stop him from falling in love with you. You had the distinct Stark characteristics of long brown hair and grey eyes. He could stare into your eyes for the rest of his life 8 years of marriage and already the two of you had 6 children and possibly another on the way. The two of you had decided it would be better to raise your children at Dragonstone without the input of others after having your first two, as well as the murmurs and rumors. You received much judgement for choosing to nurse your children rather than a wet nurse do it. It also didn’t help that you allowed your children to share the bed with you Daemon. People of the court were constantly murmuring about your family and they way you and Daemon are raising your children. They thought it repulsive that your children sleep in marital bed. It’s not as if you perform marital acts with your children present, they were far from any of that when it occurred. Then you became pregnant with Naerys, once you began to show the murmuring became worse. “How could they let there children sleep in such filth, now this child will have to sleep in it to.” “And the king allows this to happen in his castle.” “Have you heard, the dress makers had to make her new gowns again.” “How could the prince lay with someone so large.” “I suppose he has no problem lying with someone of her size when he lay with whores.” “I would not be surprised should he return to the pleasure houses, one could only lay with cattle for so long.”

Once you told Daemon what you had heard the two of you were gone to Dragonstone taking all your belongings and staff and you left. You and Daemon made sure the lust for one another would never die as you two continued to grow your family. Taking you on caraxes to Essos, leaving your children in the care of their maids. Or simply slipping into other bed chambers of the castle (empty ones, you two weren’t one to fuck on other people’s beds), or the beaches of Dragonstone to spend alone time together.

The king called for a feast to celebrate Rheanyra’s 13th name day. Daemon decided to leave for Kings Landing on Caraxes to ensure your rooms were prepared in time for your arrival with the children. Naerys is the oldest of your girls and most stubborn, like her father, refused to go on the ship with you and her siblings. Both you and Dameon felt it wasn’t a good idea for a child of only 5 years to fly on her own on via dragon back. Ultimately you and Daemon decided to allow her to fly with him on Caraxes. You knew your husband would protect your daughter with his entire life. He strapped her to him to ensure if she fell asleep she was still safe with him. He made sure to help you and the children on to the ship and to see you all off before leaving himself with Naerys. Your children loved seeing there father leave on Caraxes, they flew a bit to close to the ship causing it to rock knocking your boys to the floor, they laid there for a moment causing you to laugh as well as you held on to the knight your husband had assigned to you for the trip, Ser Ander.

Once arrived at the Kings Landing port you were met with your husband and daughter. Your daughter ran into your arms and told you how amazing flying on Caraxes was. Your boys told their father how much they enjoyed Caraxes rocking the ship and how they can’t wait for there dragons to be able to rock ships. You all left in a carriage to the Red Keep, and once arrived you were greated by Viserys, Aemma and Rhaenyra.

“Y/n, we are so glad you and the children have arrived safely.” Greated Viserys with a smile as he hugged you.

“Thank you your grace, we thank you for your invitation.”

“Please Y/n, you are my good sister, call me Viserys.”

“I will try my best, Viserys.”

“Aemma, how are you?”

“I’m quite lovely. Your self?” She asked as she rubbed her bump, you hadn’t known she was with child again.

“Lovely as well. Rhaenyra, how have you been as of late? Are you excited for the celebration?”

“I am, thank you.”

The exchange between Rhaenyra, Aemma and you felt strange in whole. You feel them judge you from their looks. You had put on a considerable amount of weight from the last time you were in kings landing and you could tell they judged you for it. While Aemma had been with child just as many times as you, you had the weight gain to show for it as she did not.

“Come let me show you to our rooms.” Daemon must have felt your unease as he thankfully interrupts the awkward exchange. The twins were to sleep with you and Daemon and the boys and Naerys in the chambers next yours and Dameon’s. Once alone you began to speak freely to Daemon.

“She’s with child once more? Poor Aemma, I pray that this babe is healthy.”

“Yes it’s quite tragic. I remember the two of you always being with child around the same time.”

“Yes, and that’s why it saddens me because we have 5 beautiful children they have one.”

“I know my dear-“ Daemon was interrupted by your children running in. Your youngest boy running behind being only 3 years of age.

“Kepa! Look they have it here! Aenar show him!” With that your second son hands his father his favorite Valyrian dragon book. All your children loved when Daemon would read to them.

“Yes there are plenty of books, perhaps we can go to the library on the morrow.”

“Yes!” Your children were so excited. They loved their father so much and it helped that he was a good one at that. Always reading to them, taking them to tend to there dragons and teaching them how to wield a sword (wooden sword).

The day had turned to night and you were nursing both twins when your husband had entered the room after seeing your other children to bed. “They are all asleep.”

“Oh good, thank you my love.” You thanked your husband and he walked over and kissed your forehead before sitting in the chair across from where you sat on the bed. He watched as you nursed his children and something began to stir inside him. Once done he took one babe and you the other and placed them in the children’s bed the maids had put in the room for the twins to sleep with you and Daemon. You had both drifted off the sleep, your head on Daemons chest and his arm around your shoulders holding you to him.

You woke the next morning feeling bloated and nauseous. The fact that none of your clothes were fitting quite right didn’t help either. You had not bled for two moon cycles now. A part of you suspected you were with child once more but you wanted to believe it wasn’t true. Daemon had entered the room after taking the boys and Naerys to the training yard, finding you sat on the floor crying.

“What has happened ñuhon dōna ābrazȳrys?”

(My sweet wife)

“Daemon.” You choked out in between sobs. He went to the floor with you holding you into his chest. “I’m with child. Again.”

“This is amazing!” Daemon said kissing your forehead.

“Tis not. I’m going to get wider, my skin will have more marks.”

“Yes but you always get smaller again. And I have scars on my body do you not love me?”

“Of course I love you, but your scars are from battle, mine are from the stretching of my skin.”

“Your skin that covers your body. Your body that grows our babes. Our children.”

“Daemon admit it. I do not get smaller, with each babe I birth I do not shrink back down in size. I will never be the size I was when we wed.”

“That is perfect for me. 6 children you have given me, soon 8-“

“There are no more twins growing in my womb.”

“We will see.” He says with a smirk. “I do not care for your size. Just means there is more to love. You are my wife, my wolf, my life and I love you. I love the marks on your skin, it’s proof that you birth my heirs, my children.”

“My marks can be hidden with gowns Daemon. With each child I birth I go up in size. I have birthed 6 children, soon to be 7 and I’m already in need of larger garments. I am huge, I’m ugly.” You sat on the floor crying into your husband’s chest when he speaks up. “I will not have you talking about my wife like this.” He picks you up with ease from the floor and toss you on to the bed. “Daemon!” You shout his name. “No, this is my wife you are discussing. Mother to my children. I will not have you slander her so.” He rips your night shift off you and you lay there bare before him. He is now on top of you and you begin to cover your growing breast when he grabs your wrist and pins them above your head, he holds them there with one hand. He kisses the palms of your hands,” these hands care for our children, they care for me, massaging parts of my aching muscles.” Kissing down both your arms. “These arms hold and comfort our children. They wrap around me at night with love, and sometimes pleasure.” He then takes one of your breast in his mouth, flicks the bud of your breast with his tongue while his free hand massages the other, he then repeats the same releasing you from his mouth to say,” these breast that kept and continue to keep our babes fed, these breast that I worship so, I thank the gods every time they grow larger.” He covers your growing abdomen in kisses,” this, this is where our babes grow, you keep them safe inside you. Our proof of the love we have for each other, proof of my love for you in the children we create.” He lowers his head between your legs and flicks your pearl with his tongue. He licks a big stripe up your core as he stays between your legs for quite sometime your a moaning mess when he releases you,” this cunt that squeezes my cock tight, that births our children,” he kisses down your legs, his hands now gripping your thighs, “these I love to hold apart while I have you screaming with pleasure while I devour you, to prevent you from squeezing my head with them. Your legs though that run to our children at the first cry. I love every part of you, small or big, you are my wife and I will worship every part of you.” With that he brings his mouth back to your pearl and uses his fingers to thrust in and out of you, his free hand massaging your breast. “Daemon please.”

“Please what my sweet wife.”

“Your cock, please.”

“As you wish ābrazȳrys.” With in second Daemons fingers were replaced with his thick, hard member thrusting into you at a pace that had you seeing stars, you moaned in pleasure as he fucked into you. “Keep moaning my sweet girl, let the whole castle know your husband makes you feel this good. Let them know how I worship you so.”

“Yes, Yes! Daemon.” You screamed and moaned for him, giving yourself away to the pleasure your husband gave you.

“Yes my dear, release your self on my cock, my good girl.” With that you were a moaning screaming mess as you reached your release, your nails clawed at his back, as you wiggled under him in pleasure, he fucked you through your release eventually reaching his own from feeling your cunt flutter around his cock. He growled into your shoulder as his seed filled you. He pulled out of you after a moment and layed next to you pulling you into him. His hand grabbing your ass and striking his palm to it,”I almost forget, this,” he grabbed,”this I absolutely love, I love to feel my stones smack against it as I fuck your sweet cunt. Or when I take you from behind I get to watch it shake as I pound into you.”

“Daemon!”

“What! It’s true! I love every part of you y/n. You are my wife, no matter your size i will worship you till I draw my last breath.

“I love you too.” You kiss his chest and he speaks once more. “Truly I thank the gods everyday for your growing tits and ass. I suppose it’s true what they say, you don’t know that something is missing from your life until you have it.”

“I assume in this case it’s tits and ass?”

“Not just any, your tits and ass my sweet wife.”

[poppinspops]

Hey I was just wondering if you could do a descendants 4 Hades x Maleficent x reader were the reader is the kid of the big bad wolf (or the younger version of the big bad wolf) so shes a werewolf and its close the full moon and she feels psychically sick and achy and shes been unintentionally avoiding them the past few days and they get worried. If you do this thank you so much.

Werewolf season

Paring: Hades x Big bad wolf reader x Maleficent

Genre: hurt/comfort, happy ending ofc & werewolf changing described kinda like growing pains..

Warnings: Hurt/comfort, descriptions of pain, cursing, and Grammer/possible spelling errors that I'll fix later

A/N: I was watching an ever after high edit whilst writing this, so if she reminds you of a certain wolf girl.. anyways I'm so sorry this took a hot minute, schools coming up but I hope u like this still!!!

God, was it torture to be in class right now

I mean, how could you stay focused in class when the full moon was coming in two days.

You started your werewolf changing process, which was rather slow this year, taking a full week to start, and of course, the changing process was causing you to be more paranoid, mainly more paranoid of hurting others around you because some werewolfs couldn't control themselves when in their werewolf forms, you being one of the unlucky people.

An incident of this being when you fully changed and attacked a student in freshman year, almost getting yourself expelled if it wasn't for your parents arguing with merlin about how horrible and a 'punch to how werewolves are already treated as monsters' so he'd be setting back all werewolves by years back and adding that you couldn't control yourself in that state making it not your fault

And clearly, your parents won that argument as you're still attending merlin Academy.

And so here you where practically laying on your desk in this boring history class with clenched teeth, wanting nothing more than for it to end.

You forget every year how painful the changing process really was as you felt sick, not a cold sick. Your whole body felt like it was growing and stretching from under your skin, and it was.

Bouncing your leg under the table, trying to distract yourself from the pain you were in as you spaced out or tried to space out, it wasn't really working all too well.

Your eyes kept flickering towards the clock, 10 more minutes until this class ended, you rolled your eyes, they now had a weird itchy feeling so did your hands balling them up and closing your eyes waiting out the minutes till you could run to your dorm room away from the prying eyes of your classmates

Honestly, this class wasn’t all that bad. The teacher was lenient to you being as she did, she'd research on werewolves and could hold your attention for long enough.

But a certain fae, your girlfriend that you just so happened to be avoiding, was currently staring holes into your skull with a slight worried expression on her usually blank face

You had almost forgotten you shared this class together and where seatmates... well, you two didn't actually sit together, but the kid she stole the seat from was too scared to get it back, so it was her seat now.

You felt her hand on your shoulder as she stared down at you. "You've been ignoring me and hades." She said, not caring for the teachers annoyed expression. When she interrupted the teachers rant, she was more focused on her girlfriend, who had been ignoring her and their boyfriend almost all week.

She didn't understand or know why

"I dont know what you're talking about. " You mumbled out a blatant lie through your clenched teeth, eyes avoiding hers.

Maleficents eyebrows furrowed at the lie, her mouth opening to say something but was interrupted by the teacher. "maleficent, i will send you to the principles office if you interrupt me again, im teaching you can talk to your girlfriend later." Maleficent rolled her eyes at the teacher but stayed silent, returning to staring at you

The teacher looked at you, shaking her head but continued on with her boring rant about some old witch called 'glinda' and all her good deeds she'd done for some girl from a place called Kansas. Who would name their kid glinda?

The bell rung signaling classes was over everyone had stared to get up gathering up their stuff to leave but being stopped by your teacher as she spoke loudly "class i will be assigning homework for you to do tomorrow."

Your whole class could be heard groaning and complaining from down the hall as they all packed up their things to leave the classroom. She was the only teacher to assign homework when Castel coming was happening in a week

You had already been out the door the second the teacher finished, heading straight for your dorm

If you had looked back, you would have seen a confused and almost hurt look on your girlfriends face as you practically ran away from her

You'd been lucky enough to get a dorm with a girl that had a boyfriend, so that meant she was never really there, so you had the whole dorm to yourself most of the time

As you rounded the corner, you collided with someone, stumbling back as growling at the person looking up to start yelling at whoever almost made you fall only to see hades your other partner you were avoiding.

Hades looked almost caught off guard by you growling at him. He'd seen you growl at others before, but never him. But that wasn't the only reason for his concerned look

You looked bad. Your hair was messier than normal, your nails looked sharper, almost claw like, and your eyes were blown wide and seemed to have this glow to them, making the normally cocky God concerned

"Are you alright?" He asked, almost uncertain of his words as he stared at his girlfriend who was looking anywhere but at him "I'm fine, I really have to go so..!" You said almost too quickly as you ran past him and towards your dorm you could hear him call out your name but you didn't turn back

Once you got to your dorm, your roommate not being here per usual you flopped onto your bed backpack thrown somewhere across the room as you immediately curled into yourself tail wrapping itself around your front as you just wanted to stay in bed and rot.

Your body ached in places it normally wouldn't it normally shouldnt. your body was growing, changing and it hurt is bad your nails digging into your arms as you held yourself tears brimming in your eyes as you wanted someone to stop it, wanted someone to hug you close without you accidentally hurting them in the process..

As you laid there you heard a knock, not a gentle one, one that makes you jump at how hard it was but it abruptly stops another person is seemingly yelling at someone and soon comes more gentle knocking oh.. you knew both of those knocks maleficent and hades where knocking at your door.

You slowly sat up staring at the door, contemplating if you wanted to open the door knowing your partners that you've been avoiding like the plague the best you could where standing on the other side of the door waiting for you

Begrudgingly, you sit up, sitting on the edge of the bed for a minute or two and getting up your bare feet touching the cold wood floor making you wanna crawl back into bed but you couldn't, not now... sadly.

You slowly walked closer to the door as you hearing the two bicker through the door, making you sigh out loud before twisting the door handle, looking down at your hand and noticing just how long your nails are and how they look a bit dirty before looking away and pulling the door open

The twk stopped arguing when they noticed you standing there, still holding the door handle, turning towards you. maleficent was the first to speak as always

"Why are you ignoring us, and don't say you aren't because you are blatantly." She said, crossing her arms as she spoke, her voice flat like she didn't care but her slightly raised eyebrow, and the way her eye twitched told you otherwise..

hades preferred to stick to snide comments, but he still nodded at what maleficent said, furrowed eyebrows and a frown

You took a breath already regreating your choice of opening the door as now you're being greeted with the consequences of ur actions, actions being not telling your clearly worried partners about being a full werewolf not just the whole werewolf traits and such.

You looked at them a frown of your own now on your face. You stayed quiet for a bit, trying to think of what to say, but your head was empty. There wasn't anything you could say that would be a good excuse, so you kinda shrugged, standing there before you quickly tried to close the door and end this rather tense and awkward silence

But you where stopped by hades boot that was now in between the door keeping you from closing the door, before his hand pushed it back open you looked at the door than him, then maleficent before sighing as you knew they wouldn't leave you alone till they knew why you where ignoring them

"Don't just close the door. We're just worried about you, and we deserve an explanation." Hades said as he looked at you. "You've been avoiding us. Why?" He said as you stayed silent looking away as you realized you couldn't hide this anymore even if you wanted too.

It's not like it was that big if a deal it was just.. you were a bit ashamed for no apparent reason but still

You put a hand on your side that felt a bit like it was streaching, which it was, and it hurt a bit. "I just... I'm sorry, yeah, I've been purposely avoiding you guys it's just.. im a werewolf, and I didn't want you two to think differently about me, so I hide it. " You took a deep breath before speaking awkwardly laughing a bit before continuing."I know it's really not that big of a deal, but it is to me! Being a werewolf is frowned upon, and i was afraid that if you knew, then you wouldn't want to be with me anymore, I guess.."

You took a shaky breath before looking at the two who stayed silent in the doorway. They both had strange looks on their faces that made your heart twist in your chest as the longer they stayed silent, the more you were sure they didn't want to be with you anymore nkt that you'd blame them you did lie to them..

You were one of the monsters people would tell stories to their children about to scare them from going too deep into the woods

Maleficent rolled her eyes as she spoke, "That was the reason you were ignoring us?" Making your eyes snap over to her before shaking your head, yes. "I mean, yeah, it was -"

Maleficent interrupted you as she spoke as if you had said the stupidest thing ever. "Well, that was a stupid reason. We've been together for two years, and I truly couldn't care less what you are. you're our girlfriend either way, beast or not." She stated, shaking her head as hades let out a laugh, making maleficent hit him in the side with her elbow

Now, it was your turn to feel slightly stunned. You felt silly for worrying about what they'd think now that they were here. You really were worrying all for nothing, eyes stinging, and the fatigue finally hitting you

Hades rough hand came to your shoulder lightly pushing you aside so that they could come in instead of standing outside of your room

A softer hand grabbed yours, being careful of the claws that now replaced your nails, leading you over to your bed sitting on the large bed, placing your head on her lap as you almost curled up immediately in her lap, bottom lip wobbling a bit

Hades moved your legs so that they were now resting on top of his lap as the two stayed silent, just listening to your slightly incoherent mumbles, and every now and then groans of pain

Maleficent already figured out that you must be shifting still. That may be why you've been more flightly than normal and more... emotional as the tears in your eyes just from your head in her lap only proved her point

Hades drew patterns on your leg that calmed you down a bit. You'd say it was the hand motions when asked, but truly, it was just his touch

Maleficent silently and skillfully undid your cape strings that were tied securely under your chin, slipping the soft meterial off of your form tossing it onto your floor. You'd complain about that later

With the cape gone now, there could be seen two small ears and a long tail that would most likely get bigger in the next two days when you actually shifted fully.

But no comment was made about it, just a comforting silence from your partners as you drifted off, succumbing to sleep in your lovers embraces.

[lixies-favorite-cookie]

hang the moon ◦ l.f

-going through the ages of time with felix, from when you told him you were pregnant to seeing him braid your baby's hair.

@feelikecinderella I hope you like it it isn't something I usually write, but I adored writing it so thank you so so much for the request ♡

Paring ◦ Dad!Lee Felix x Pregnant!Reader

Words ◦ 4,506(this was originally supposed to be 1,000 words 💀)

Genre ◦ Fluff, Dad!Lixie headcanons, MY FIRST REQUEST MWAHAHA.

Warnings ◦ Felix being the sweetest man in the whole world, super unrealistic ngl, descriptions about pain, crying, reader being kinda moody, sexual content but its literally like two lines and it just says that you give him head and him giving you an orgasm no details at all, felix being hot asf, felix being a model father, a few big bad fuck words, I'm 19 i dont know how pregnancy works so bear with me babes💀, I know their has to be at LEAST 12 spelling errors, not edited (forgive me I have no time) uhhh nothing else I don't think

A/N ◦ I love this so much it was so cute and I stand by the fact if my husband isn't like this with kids I'm not having one (also is anybody else traumatized by their present absent dads my dad was always in my life and I love him to death great father terrible husband never did anything to help my mom out which makes me really scared to have kids can anyone relate?) I just want to apologize in advance for my rambling tendency please forgive me 🙏 Also this isn't in actual bullet point because Tumblr is stupid.

~cookiecreates 🍪

Mommy-to-be!Reader who gets that feeling all mothers get when another body is currently being knitted together inside them. The month you missed your period also helped with the suspicion, but the three pregnancy tests with two thick pink lines screaming at you really confirm your hypotheses that you are indeed pregnant, and it is 100% Felixes.

Mommy-to-be!Reader who is first overwhelmed by all the thoughts that have gathered in your head—the preparations, the options—if you want to keep the baby or not, what are you going to do if he doesn't want to? Oh no, you didn't think about what you would do if he didn't want to keep the baby. How would he react? Your overwhelm quickly changed to an anxiety that bubbled in your stomach when you thought of all the possible outcomes of what could happen to your relationship because of one simple accident. No matter how secure your relationship with Felix is, it's terrifying to think that he might leave, seeing his dreams of being an idol as more important than being a dad.

Daddy-to-be!Felix who was just sitting on the couch fiddling with his computer, when you walk in with your tear-stained face and trembling hands, he immediately goes to comfort mode. "What is it, darling whats w-" he stops in his tracks, seeing the test in your hands and definitely seeing the thick pink lines that tell him you're pregnant...

Daddy-to-be!Felix whose immediate reaction is to gather you up in his arms and twirl you around in the air, overwhelmed by a feeling of unadulterated joy. His whole face is lit up like a Christmas tree, really making his sunshine title shine through.

Daddy-to-be!Felix who can’t really believe it, “Your pregnant.” “Apparently” “Oh my gosh, we're pregnant.” “I don't think that's how that works.” You chuckle, still in mild denial. “Oh yeah, it is part of my DNA is currently inside of you.” He stops, really letting it sink in. “Holy shit, we're going to have a baby! You don't think either of you has ever smiled so big in your lives. 

Daddy-to-be!Felix who goes and tells the group the next day, too ecstatic to keep it to himself.

Uncle-to-be!Group who congratulates the hell out you and Felix, promising to take care of the baby any time you two need a babysitter. Cue spontaneous gift-giving as well; one day you find a stroller on your front porch from Chan, a box of baby clothes from Han, and a diaper bag from Minho, all on the same day.

Uncle-to-be!Chan who promises to spoil the hell out of your little sunshine, letting Felix rant about all his fantasies, how he's going to be the best dad, how you're going to be a wonderful mom, how he's going to buy her the cutest clothes, and how- Chan loves Felix, but he stopped listening after the 25th compliment about how wonderful you are doing with your pregnancy.

Mommy-to-be!Reader who figures out that Han's girlfriend, your best friend, is also pregnant, so you won't have to deal with your pregnancy alone, while Felix is understanding and supportive; he is a guy after all, and some things like how your boobs hurt and are oddly getting bigger, he just won't understand, and that's okay because at least you have a friend who you can rant about your boobies too.

Mommy-to-be!Reader who promises not to tell anyone about Han's girlfriend's pregnancy. Due to her request, she and Han have already agreed that they are planning a very big event to tell the boys, and she doesn't want it to be spoiled because of your loose lips.

Daddy-to-be!Felix who's so gentle with you, even during the days when your bump is so little, it's almost nonexistent, always asking if you're okay or if you need some food, water, or if the baby is okay? Is she hungry? Maybe thirsty? You have to remind him that the baby is nothing more than a gathering of cells right now and can't partially talk.

Daddy-to-be!Felix who guarantees that your baby is a girl and no amount of convincing can persuade him he's definitely projecting.

Daddy-to-be!Felix who would refuse to let you get up from nuzzling his face in your practically flat stomach. "Felix, I have to pee." "Do you want me to carry you to the bathroom?" He looks up from your tummy with big boba eyes. You deadpan. "Yeah, okay, you're right. You've got this." Basically, giving you little praise hand emojis🙌, even though his worried eyes stare you down all the way to the bathroom. 

Daddy-to-be!Felix who sends 'how are my girls doing' texts every day at practice, "You know, you don't actually know if it's a girl or not." "I have a feeling."

Daddy-to-be!Felix who treasures you even as you sob into his chest about your nightmares from the Euphoria TikToks you've watched about parents whose relationships crumbled because of having a baby, he dusts kisses over your face, whispering promise after promise on your skin that no matter what relationship won't crumble, this baby is going to make your relationship stronger, closer, better. He loves you too much, just like how he would love you if you were a worm and how he would kiss the prettiest person in the room with the choice between you or the prettiest person in the room because the prettiest person in the room is you (all true conversations you've had in between sobbing sessions).

Daddy-to-be!Felix who deals with all your shit with a smile on his face because he understands how hard it is to carry a fuckabigillion pound baby in your belly, so if you feel like yelling at him because he's home late, then crying in his arms because you regret yelling at him, begging him for forgiveness, he'll do both gladly. Not the forgiveness part; he doesn't forgive you because you didn't need it; he was never mad at you in the first place.

Daddy-to-be!Felix who starts getting concerned when your belly starts getting bigger at a faster rate than the average rate of time that one's belly gets bigger.

Daddy-to-be!Felix who shuts down every accusation that he's been doing research on your pregnancy and that he just happened to know the statistics about rates in which baby bumps grow (what can you say, he's a smart guy🤷)

Daddy-to-be!Felix who makes you promise to tell him all the days that your ultrasounds are on so he can make sure everything with you and his little princess is okay, especially since your bump is getting so big so fast, which he just happened to know and definitely did not do research about.

Daddy-to-be!Felix who gives you the best princess treatment all the time without fail. You don't like your nails; the money is on the counter for a new pair. You want to go shopping for maternity clothes because your jeans are starting to get too tight; he's at the door with his card and a big smile on his face, practically skipping out the door to give you the best day of your life. You want him to hold your bags as you walk around the mall, spending his money on anything you think looks even remotely cute; he'll do it with a sparkle in his eye. Your feet hurt from walking all day with this watermelon-sized child in your stomach; he'll lean down on his knees and stay there, rubbing your feet for hours. No matter what, even if he's exhausted from practice, his girls come first. Which ties into...

Daddy-to-be!Felix who demands time off. Demands it or he's done, leaving the team. (He's not actually going to, but he needs to let the company know he's not going to take their shit). His girls always come first. Reluctantly, they agree that he can take a 4-week break while you are pregnant and a 6-month leave after the baby comes. He glares at them before realizing that that's a pretty good chunk of time, but he's relentless, folding his arms in front of his chest, "and I get to leave whenever they need me." "I don't know about that." Daddy Bear mode activated. The woman trembles, looking at him. "Okay," she mutters reluctantly. Back into teddy bear mode. "Thank you so much. I hope you have a beautiful rest of your day." He turns and walks away like he didn't just make this lady shit her pants. (i highly doubt this is actually how this works but idrc this is called a fanFICTION for a reason )

Daddy-to-be!Felix who doesn't mind one bit doing the dishes and sweeping the floor as long as he sees you safe and sound in your bed, snoring away with your legs stuffed between a fluffy pillow.

Daddy-to-be!Felix who went with you to one of your ultrasounds, and ended up with only 10 minutes to get ready before a photoshoot. He had never felt so many glares in one room. Newsflash: It was worth it, even though they had to rearrange the whole schedule just for him. Han sent him a smile, knowing exactly how he felt.

Daddy-to-be!Felix who gets the worst cuteness aggression as you waddle around.

Daddy-to-be!Felix who just holds you when you burst into tears, feeling so useless as you cry from the pain, not knowing what to do when you start balling because the weight of holding a baby beginning to be too much to bear, so he just holds you, not being able to keep the tears that swarm his vision at bay, especially when he holds your bump, feeling how heavy it is just for him; he couldn't even imagine how heavy it is to carry that around inside of you.

Daddy-to-be!Felix who calls his mom right after just to thank her for going through all the shit of baring a child because he sees how hard it is for you and literally can't believe women all around the world have been going through that for all of time, it genuinely baffles him, he trips out about it for a hot minute.

Daddy-to-be!Felix who takes it up as his personal mission to make you feel like the prettiest woman on the planet when you're with him, especially since he can tell you feel insecure with all the changes your body is making. He sees them, notices them, he doesn't mind them at all, what he minds is how much they are hurting you and he just can't have that. Let's just say the amount of kisses and orgasms he has given you in the past 6 hours makes you feel like the hottest bitch in the world for about 4 weeks after.

Daddy-to-be!Felix who convinces you not to do a gender reveal because he wants it to be a surprise, you are hesitant because you don't like not knowing which gender to buy certain clothes, but you know you currently have a closet full of both baby boy and baby girl clothes because of ✨princess treatment ✨and with a black card and pregnancy hormones, all the clothes at the mall looked cute. What can you say? You're just a girl. 🤷

Daddy-to-be!Felix whose biggest fear is that he's going to be away when you have the baby, and he's not going to be able to comfort you through the most memorable and painful time of your life. It quite literally brings tears to his eyes. You comfort him, telling him that it's okay even if he isn't there. You know he loves you, and you wouldn't mind, but he reminds you constantly, "I don't care if it's in the middle of a concert, a fansign, a meeting that determines my whole entire future; your water breaks, I run."

Daddy-to-be!Felix who is so relieved that your water breaks in the middle of the night when he's home, where you can screech as loud as you can to attempt to get his attention. 

Daddy-to-be!Felix who jumped up from bed so quick, grabbing you and leading you down the stairs, racked with guilt that he couldn't pick you up because A) he literally can't, and B) he's too terrified, he'll fall and hurt you.

Daddy-to-be!Felix who if all the anxiety he has ever experienced in his entire life could be multiplied and put in his body, it would still be so minuscule compared to the way he's freaking the FUCK out right now, but he still tries to calm himself down, and be sober-minded for you.

Daddy-to-be!Felix who when you get to the hospital, they have got him FUCKED UP to think he's ever leaving you. Holding your hand through it all, a part of him has to be on you the entire time. It doesn't matter if he doesn't sleep; he's an idol. Not sleeping is what he does.

Daddy-to-be!Felix who falls in love with you all over again, seeing you push through all the pain—admiring your strength and dedication— he loves you so much and makes sure you know, even in some of the most inconvenient times.  “Big push,” the nurse calls out from under you. “I love you so much, baby, so fucking much, holy shit.” He kisses your hand. “Shut up, Felix, please.” You scream, your body vibrating with pain. “Yes ma'am, shutting up right now.”

 Daddy-to-be!Felix who praises you constantly, “You're doing so well, baby.” "Keep pushing; do you see that, you're almost done?” "I'm so fuckin' proud of you, darling." "The only reason I'm going to see my beautiful baby is because of you. Do you know how much I admire you? I literally can't find the words." “SHUT UP.”

 Daddy-to-be!Felix who lets you hold onto him while you go through all the contractions, digging your nails into his skin, drawing blood, "Ow baby," "sorry," "it's okay, I understand." You obviously are not very sorry, cause two seconds later you're digging deeper into his wounds.

Dad!Felix who is just as ecstatic about them telling him it's a boy as he would be if they were telling him it was a girl, he just has to change his dreams about brushing his little girl's hair to teaching his little boy how to tie a tie (which he is very bad at, but for him, he will attempt to learn).

Dad!Felix who never knew that you could love somebody so deeply without ever even knowing them, but when he holds your little ball of sunshine in his arms and feels their heartbeats intertwining, it all seems so much more real. He has your eyes. His nose, your hands, his toes—he sees bits and pieces of the two of you in every breath he takes. He has just met your baby, and yet he immediately feels like he would burn the whole world down for him.

Dad!Felix who panics when you suddenly start having even more contractions.

Dad!Felix who breaks down in tears when they hand him your second baby, a little girl, whose freckles dust across her cheeks just like his. If he thought he was feeling happy before knowing he gets to experience the best of both worlds at the same time, makes his already bursting heart about 10 times its size. 

Dad!Felix who is sobbing happy tears, a smile plastered on his face as he cuts the umbilical cords off of both his little balls of sunshine, never thinking he would be so excited to do something in his life. 

Dad!Felix who at this point is so surprised that he hasn't had a heart attack with the amount of scares he has gotten in the past 12 hours, especially when his heart jumps out of his chest, as the doctor informs the both of you that you need to be stitched up from where you tore, you are mostly confused because you didn't know you tore. It must have blended in with the excruciating pain that was firing from all areas of your body. "What does that mean? Is she okay? Is she going to die? Is she-"

Dad!Felix who is literally going to pass out because he actually thinks you're going to die.

Dad!Felix who feels real fuckin stupid when the nurses just chuckle and tell him you're not going to die, your vagina ripped while giving birth, that it happens quite often; they just need to sew you up.

Dad!Felix who watches them like a hawk as they sew you up, making sure that they aren’t messing anything up.

Dad!Felix who literally refuses to let you do anything for at least 3 months after your birth, researching the hell out of what can ease your pain, forcing you into bed rest while he takes care of the kids, giving you massages for your aching muscles, pouring you warm baths with rose petals when your stitching hurts or itches, he's so kind and attentive, hating seeing you in pain.

Dad!Felix who is so eager to do anything; getting up when the babies are crying, changing diapers, giving bottles, singing the babies to sleep…

Dad!Felix who loves to sing the babies with his deep calming voice, knowing it puts them to sleep instantly. 

Dad!Felix who loves to eat you out when he finally puts the twins to bed about just as much, noticed the way you were looking at him as he was singing in that deep, sexy voice. 

Dad!Felix who goes right back to the kids 30 minutes later when your moans wake them up.  

Dad!Felix who just can't get over how awesome it is to see how different your babies are, not just in gender but in personality as well.

Dad!Felix who literally despises having the babies cry, does anything he can to stop it, not because it's annoying him, but because it hurts him to know his little angels are sad.

Dad!Felix who will cook dinner with both babies held carefully in his arms—something that seems atomically impossible, but he figures it out.

Dad!Felix who sees the guilt bubbling up on your face, rushing it away with gentle kisses and soft reassurances, ushering you away with a smile. “I know you're tired and hurting. Go take a nap, love, and I'll wake you up when dinner is done.”

Mom!Reader who wakes up from her nap, sees the house cleaned, the dishes done, the babies fed, and put to bed with a steaming meal in front of you, you are more than happy to suck him to the heavens after. Hey, everything's 50/50, right? 

Mom!Reader who begs Felix to get the babies because she can hear them crying through the baby monitor.

Dad!Felix who does it without a second thought. Never once complaining about how you guys could count the amount of sleep you have gotten combined on just one of your hands, he understood the twins were ornery—having a bad case of colic—so to calm them down, he sings to them just like he always does.

Mom!Reader who panics hearing such a deep voice over the baby monitor. In a fit of half-asleep—panic-induced—sleep deprivation run into the baby's room, ready to kill somebody if needed, but your heart melts instead when you meet Felix holding your sniffling twins, rocking them carefully in his arms. Tears pool in your eyes seeing the way his face glew with pure love; even though he looked exhausted, even though there were deep bags under his eyes and spit up on his shirt, no matter how hard life was, at least you know that with Felix, you’d never regret it, not even for a minute.

Dad!Felix who looks up, surprised to see you in the doorway. "Hi baby," he whispers. "Go back to bed, darling. I've got this." You look at him like he hung the moon, and for you, he would. 

Dad!Felix who is the most patient father any child could ever ask for. (I will never get over this. Definitely the type of dad who would help clean up the milk and not just yell because it was spilled)

Dad!Felix who would rather die than yell at his kids, is definitely the gentlest parent known to man.

Dad!Felix who dresses your angels like the next Louis Vuitton ambassadors, "Really, Felix, our four-month-old babies do not need a Louis blazer and jumpsuit." "Who says?” he shrugs. “Um, me, because they're 4 months old.” You enunciate every syllable as though you were talking to one of the babies in question. “Do they even sell this in stores?" “Um, no, I had it custom-made, duh." "Oh my gosh," you facepalm, not before facepalming a little harder, pulling out a Louis pair of sunglasses and a Louis purse just small enough to fit tiny hands. ”You bought the baby a Louis purse?" "Of course, my princess can be without a bag. Look deeper; there's something for mommy in there too.” You pull out a Louis Vuitton diaper bag. 🤦

Dad!Felix who has never really liked confrontation, but when a paparazzi accidentally bumped into you holding the twins because he was trying to take pictures of the group; he almost killed him, saw red, got so close to using those Taekwondo skills he spent years practicing. The team was the only reason he didn't rip someone's head off. Bangchan's glare would have been enough, but yours, his, and the whole group were enough for the man's face to go red and curl into himself, definitely regretting all of his life choices.

Dad!Felix who's the type of father who wants to protect his little angels from the world, is literally willing to glue pillows to all areas of the house so that they will never get hurt. You stare at him blankly, wondering if he's serious.

He is.

Dad!Felix who gets genuinely disappointed that you obviously oppose, so instead he baby-proofs the ever-loving shit out of the house, sharp objects gone, all corners covered, outlets concealed.

Dad!Felix who if anyone were to talk about his family online, would not be silent, would go into a fit of rage, aggressively typing on his phone, getting ready to post a long paragraph on his story that you or his team would have to keep him from sending because, you know, his job or whatever, speaking of job…

Dad!Felix who knows he has to leave for work eventually, and his 6-month hiatus from the group was not permanent. A lot of tears are shed as he holds you and your beautiful babies, knowing he isn’t going to be able to see them for a whole 3 months while they start their tour. He can't bear thinking that he might miss such pivotal moments as the first rollover, the first steps, the first word. He can see his little munchkins' lives flashing right before his eyes as he looks at the packed suitcase in the corner. “Felix, we are going to be fine, I promise." “Are you sure?? I can leave the group; I would leave them for you; I promise I would; you just say the word and I'm gone; we can buy a house in the suburbs-” You giggle, overwhelmed with admiration for his dedication to your family, “Don't be silly, Lix. I know you love your job and your team, plus we wouldn't be able to afford a house without you working." He sighs, knowing you are right. “Fine,” he mutters, holding you all close. “Just promise to call me every single day, okay?”

Dad!Felix who gets up early enough in the morning to feed the kids and get them dressed, trying to spend as much quality time with them as possible before he has to leave. 

Mom!Reader who, being the mom you are, still freaks out when you wake up, scared Felix is going to miss his plane. While you're putting your son's shoes on, you run into the room and say, “Come on, lix-” You stop dead in your tracks, seeing him beaming while brushing your little girl's hair, humming a sweet melody as the paddle goes smoothly through her locks. She looks up at him like he hung the moon, and for her, he would. Your bad mood dissipates as you remember why you got into any of this in the first place. Everything is going to be fine. You're going to be fine. Felix looks up, feeling your presence. He smiles wider. "Do you like it, momma?" He asks, clearly proud of his work. She smiles toothless and full of glee. You take her in your arms, spinning her around. "Well, of course, I like it. Did Daddy do this for you, baby?" She spits out gobbly gook, which you nod your head at, acting like she just recited pie.

Dad!Felix who brushes the little girl's hair every day before work without fail, even looks up tutorials on YouTube about different strategic hairstyles. He's terrible at them. Doesn't stop your heart from melting into a puddle on the floor while he's attempting French braids, though.

Dad!Felix who proposes to you a few years later, so he can have your two beautiful babies standing beside him as he proposes: his little princess in a cute white dress holding a bouquet of picked flowers, and your little prince in an adorable little tux holding a heart of chocolates. Everything is just so perfect, you'd be a certified idiot not to say yes (not that you were ever considering it).

Husband!Felix who when you finally get married, agrees that your baby boy is going to be the one who walks you down the aisle with your little girl being his best wo'man', right beside Hyunjin and all his other members, of course.

Extra for the ones who endured my rambling 

Mom!Reader+Hans girlfriend who had a baby boy the same day that you had your little girl. When you found out the good news, you immediately started planning for the wedding, knowing this couldn't be anything other than fate, already thinking about ship names and wedding dresses.

Dad!Felix+Han who glare at the two, Felix not liking the idea of his perfect princess being anywhere near the male species, Han not liking the idea of his girlfriend cuddling with someone that isn't him. But eventually, Felix eases on his glare, his heart melting as you giggle about the color of the bouquet.

Last but not least

Husband!Felix who will always love the way his family looks at him, like he hung the moon because, for them, he would.

©CookieCreates (posted: June, 19th 2024) All rights reserved. Do not translate, copy, or claim my works as yours! I only post on this platform so if any of my works are elsewhere, report and notify me immediately.

~ I'm probably going to redo this one day so if you have anything you would like to add/change please let me know :))

COOKIE OUT

[lincolndjarin]

Best Kept Secret

chapter twenty six : crucifixion

ao3 link ✿ series masterlist ✩ main masterlist ✧

pairing : bodyguard!Din Djarin x afab!princess!reader

rating : 18+ mdni

word count : 12.7k

summary : judgement day.

warnings: major character death, above canon typical violence, very brief references to suicide, torture, body horror (briefly), feelings of despair, blood, wounds, general kodo grossness, vomit (reader vomits several times, it is never described in detail), language, angst, brief smut, pregnancy, death, reader is not doing well in this like she's at a breaking point, i may have missed some so feel free to let me know.

a/n: please read the warnings on this chap! it's the most serious of the bks updates, definitely a bit more intense than the rest. gonna work on getting 27 out within the next few day. i've been terrified of releasing this chapter since i started writing it so once i post this i'm going to dig a hole and sit in it and hide for a while lmao.

i changed my editing style so if there's spelling errors lmk!! apologies in advance!!

“My room is too big.” 

He bursts into genuine peals of laughter and you gently smack his arm.

“Don’t laugh, it’s a serious issue! My room is enormous.” You’re giggling along with him now, it’s the hardest you’ve ever heard him laugh. You both just laugh for a few minutes, as if each other's company is the most amusing thing in the world. 

Once your giggles fizzle out you wait another moment before breaking the silence. 

“Where did you grow up?” You can’t see him but you can sense where he sits in the darkness, you crawl forward so you’re sitting between his legs, your own legs wrap around his waist. “I’m just curious.” 

“Aq Vetina.” You can’t recall anything about the planet. You aren’t even sure you’ve heard of it. 

“Do you remember your parents well? You don’t talk about them very much.” You put your hands on his shoulders, ever so slowly moving them up to his neck until you’re cupping his face. 

“I’ll never forget them.” He whispers. 

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. We can’t change the past.” You rub your nose against his, bumping them together as you hum and nod. “My mother loved ships. We didn’t travel, we never had a reason to, but she would take me outside and we’d watch ships fly past. I could never comprehend how she knew the name for all of them, it blew my mind.” You wrap your arms around his neck, staying silent in hopes that he’ll continue, he so rarely speaks so much. “My father worked a lot but he always made time for us, he was always home in time to say goodnight to me. He was always around when I needed him, he always provided for us. On his day off he’d spend the whole day cooking, I’d sit on the kitchen counter and tell him what my mother and I had done that week. When she’d come home we’d all eat dinner together.” 

“You sound like you were a happy child.” You can’t help but smile. 

“I never had reason to be otherwise.” He says it so matter of factly that you don’t doubt it for a second. He was loved. It only makes you smile wider.         

“What were you like, as a child?”

“Well behaved.” You immediately begin laughing once more. 

“I find that hard to believe.”

“Believe it. My mother homeschooled me, she always made sure I had manners. I wasn’t particularly athletic or talkative so I didn’t play with other kids a lot. It was just me and mama.” He sounds far away, it makes you want to hold him close and never let him go.

“So what did you do all day?” Your tone has softened significantly. 

“I would sew.” 

“Be serious.” He’s the one who laughs now at the disbelief in your voice.

“I am! I would sit with my mother after my lessons and we’d sew.” His fingertips dance along the back of your neck as he reminisces. 

“What kinds of things?” You don’t tease. When you really think about it you suppose such a hobby is fitting for him. A task that requires precision and care. 

“I would help her make clothes and blankets that she would sell most days. On the weekends she’d let me do whatever I wanted so I would practice my embroidery.” 

“My heart is actually about to explode out of my chest, you’re so cute.” You put on a mocking tone but the thought of such a thing really does make your heart clench. “Little Din Djarin stitching his name into his clothes.”

“You’re a cruel woman.” He leans forward, knocking his forehead against yours, almost as if he were reprimanding you. 

“What sorts of things would you embroider?” Your tone goes back to genuine, you could listen to him talk about himself for days and you’d never get bored. 

“Whatever my mother wanted. I would ask her what I should do and then I’d stitch it onto her blanket or the hem of her skirt. Mostly flowers, she loved daisies.” You’re pretty sure one of your ovaries literally popped at the thought of a little boy with dark curls and big brown eyes sitting beside his mother and embroidering a daisy onto her skirt. Your heart flutters a bit as you think of the necklace he got you. The silver outline of a flower you now realize is a daisy. “If he was ever gone for more than one night for work my father would bring her daisies, one for each day he was away.”

“Do you still know how?”

“I used to fix Grogu’s clothes when he ripped them but I haven’t done much else since I was a boy. He says it with finality but you carry on, not wanting him to stop talking. 

“What were their names? Your parents?”

“Clara and Arin Djarin.”  

“Those are pretty names.”

“What was it like for you? You said you had seven siblings right?”

“Eight actually.” You think of them now. There were eight of you and your parents' love for all of you combined wasn’t even a tenth of how much Din’s parents loved him. 

“Do you like having a big family?” He lifts you off of his lap, laying you back down as he crawls on top of you, laying against your chest. 

“I love it. I miss my siblings everyday, do you think we’ll be able to visit them someday?”

“If it’s safe to, of course we will.” He tilts his head, if you weren’t in darkness he’d be looking at you. 

“I wish they had visited here. They would have loved you.”

“You think?”

“Are you kidding me? The younger ones would adore you.” You tangle your finger in his hair, scratching his scalp. “Kids just naturally like you.” 

“They just haven’t learned to fear me.” You frown when he says it like a fact.

“I think it’s more than that.”

“Yeah?” The hopeful tilt to his voice has you leaning down to press a kiss into his hair. 

“Kids are intuitive, they can sense that you’re a good person.” He tenses up as you tell him he’s a good person. You know exactly what he’s thinking about now, how he punched your husband and then refused to leave. 

Neither one of you wants to talk about that though, not today. 

“What kind of room would you want? Since your current room isn’t to your liking.” He’s quick to change the subject and you let him.

“In all honesty, I like the cabin, I wish we could just live there.” You run your fingers through his curls as you think about it, gently pulling through any tangles.

“My cabin?” His voice is full of uncertainty as he pulls back a bit.

“It’s nice.” You feel a bit defensive, you consider the cabin to be the closest thing you have to a home. “Can you imagine getting to stay on Naboo? We could spend our mornings walking the market.” You rest your hand on the back of his neck now. “We could get jobs in the city, and then at night we’d come home.” 

“To the cabin?” He still sounds rather skeptical of your hypothetical future. 

“I’d cook dinner, you’d do the chores.”

“The cabin’s a bit small for us.” 

“We’d make it a bit bigger, add a few bedrooms, we don’t need that much space.” 

“A few?” He turns his head, his lips brush against your collar briefly as he kisses you there, freezing up when you speak again. 

“At least two, one for us and then some for any little Djarin’s who might need space.” With that he sits up entirely, his legs straddle your stomach.

“Little Djarin’s?”

“And Grogu, he would come live with us as well.” 

“You’d want him to live with us?”

“Of course, he’s a little Djarin.” Your hands rest on his thighs now as he seemingly ponders above you. He hums to himself in silence for a moment and you can’t help but grin at how seriously he’s taking all of this. 

“How many?” He finally speaks again and you laugh at the bluntness of his question. 

“Kids?”

“How many would you want?”

“You go first.” You haven’t ever talked about this sort of thing so you want to gauge his answer first so you don’t scare him too much with all the kids talk. 

“Maybe five? Or six.”

“Six?” Your voice pitches up immediately and you feel a rumble in his chest as he laughs. 

“Or five.”

“How about two, counting Grogu.” Turns out you didn’t need to worry about scaring him off. 

“How about three?” Three is manageable. 

“Counting Grogu?” 

“Counting Grogu.” He seems satisfied with that. 

“I suppose we could have three, you’re the one who has to build all the extra bedrooms.” 

“I don’t mind.”

“I’d work at the library and you’d work in a shipyard, we’d take turns staying home with the kids.” You pull him back to you, taking his hands and dragging him to lay his head on your chest once more.

“I’ve got enough savings, neither one of us has to work if you’d like.” It sends a twinge of pain to your heart how real this conversation has become, knowing that this exact dream isn’t possible. 

You could always make parts of it real.

Someday. 

“I’d want to work, to get out of the house, but you could stay home if you’d like.”

“When they’re still ik’aad, at least for the first few years I’d want to be with them.” He’s going to be a wonderful father. 

“Then I’d work, not long hours, just enough to get me out of the house, when I come home I’d give you a break, you could do the shopping and I’d watch the little’s.” 

“We’d go as a family, I wouldn’t want ‘a break.’” 

“You’d want to wrangle three kids in the markets?” You scoff in disbelief but he continues to sound completely serious. 

“They’d be well behaved.” You seriously doubt that. 

“What about either one of us makes you think our children will be well behaved? Is Grogu well behaved?” 

“We’ll manage.”

“They’ll be wild.” They will, not they would. 

“And smart.” He sits up again, hovering above you to give you a quick kiss. 

“And happy.” There isn’t a doubt in your mind that your children would be happy with Din as their father. 

“You’d really want to live here? I could build us a house anywhere.”

“I like Naboo, at least everything outside of the castle. I don’t even mind the castle, I just don’t care for the people inside it.” It’s true, somewhere along the way this place grew on you immensely. You love the city and the people in it. “And they’d get to play in the garden.” 

“I would build you a cabin anywhere you wanted, and I’d plant you a new garden.” He kisses along your cheeks and forehead as he speaks. 

“You wouldn’t need to plant me a garden if we lived here.” You insist. 

“We can’t live here, mesh’la.” He rubs a small circle with his thumb against your cheek. “This is too serious now, we’re supposed to be relaxed today.”

“When did we agree on that?” You muster up a weak laugh. 

“It was a silent mutual agreement.”

“I’m plenty relaxed.” You mumble. He buries his face in the crook of your neck, his stubble tickling you as you let out an airy giggle. 

“I’m actually very tense and I think we should take a break from all this talking and take care of that.” He mumbles against your shoulder.

“Oh?”

“Mhmm.” He emphasizes his point by pressing his erection against your hip, you hadn’t even realized that this is where he was going with that. 

“How long have you been waiting to jump me?”

“When we started talking about the five kids I was gonna put in you.” He continues to nip at your neck and shoulders as he speaks. 

“Skipping the agreed upon three and going straight to five already? You’re not even going to attempt to negotiate for four?” 

“So you’re open to four?” He pulls back and you can hear his smile. 

“Let’s start with one and go from there.”

“Right now?” His hips stutter down a bit against yours. 

“Maker, you’re insatiable.” You both burst into another fit of laughter. 

“What’s the worst thing that could happen?”

“I could get pregnant, and considering the lack of sex I’ve had with my husband I’m sure that might raise a few eyebrows.” 

“It would never get to that point, when we’re in the clear with this whole Kodo mess I’m getting you out of here.”

“Like… actually leaving Naboo?” 

“Exactly like that. I’m gonna take you far away from here when this is over, gonna keep you all for myself.” His hands move down, giving your hips a squeeze. 

“I’m already yours.” You laughed, rolling over to be on top of him. He’s right, if you’re going to leave anyway then what’s the worst thing that could happen? 

You never talked about that night after that. 

When everything sorted itself out you realized how crazy your fear had made you. You couldn’t just leave. At least that’s what you’d told yourself, now you feel like an idiot for not holding him to his words. It wasn’t realistic, you both knew actually leaving would take so much more preparation than a few whispered ideas during a time where neither one of you was in any position to be making such promises. 

It was just talk.

Lysa came to get you from the dining room. 

After everyone left you had no motivation to move, you just stood there, frozen in time. After a few hours she found you, she had taken your hand and walked you back to your chambers. She held your hand, she kept you upright when you threatened to crumble. And when you felt a wave of nausea ripple through you she rushed you to the fresher, a hand on your back as you threw up all over again. 

You sat breathlessly on the tile, Lysa rubbing your back.

“Gods, I’ve been nauseous since the wedding. Even before everything fell apart.” It’s the first words you’ve spoken since they took Din, your stomach is still churning. “This has never happened before.” You groan, you’ve had many moments of upset throughout your life, but none that made you physically ill. Lysa looks almost painfully worried. 

“Ma’am… is there a chance you might be…” 

Kriff.

You never talked about that night after that. 

Maybe you should have. 

You both did a lot of things during those days. You had been so angry, and he had done everything in his power to ease that anger, to keep both of you as happy as someone could be in your situation. 

You shouldn’t have used that as an excuse to be reckless. 

“I’d like to go to bed.” 

“Of course.” She helps you to your feet, walking you back to your room, you turn to her one last time before you close the door. 

“I’m sorry. Elaine never should have gotten involved in all this.” You’d trade places with her in a heartbeat if you could. 

“It’s not your fault.” She truly seems to believe that. 

Except it is. Elaine never would have found herself in this situation if she hadn’t so often been helping the two of you keep your secret. 

“Goodnight, Lysa.” 

“Goodnight, princess.” 

You lay on the bed, unable to bring yourself to sleep in the closet. 

It’s cold. Colder than Hoth, as you stare at the ceiling in your far too big bed in your far too big room. Even bigger now that it’s just you. 

You let your hand roam down your torso to rest on your stomach.

Just you, hopefully. 

☆

You’re now having nightly dinners with Kodo. 

You don’t get any respite from him, you just want to stay in bed. You’re nauseous and tired and your head hasn’t stopped spinning since that night. A million thoughts a minute. 

Where is he?

Is he okay?

What the fuck can I do about it?

Mostly that. 

The worst part is your lack of a plan. If the roles were reversed Din would have already rescued you and you’d be living happily ever after. 

But that isn’t how your story is going. Instead you are alone, with no scheme on how to get to him. It’s only been three days but it’s driving you insane, you have never known such hopelessness, it’s maddening. To sit alone in your room all day, staring at the ceiling until Lysa comes to dress you for dinner. Neither one of you ever speaks, afterall, what would you say to each other?

“I’m sorry the love of your life had been sentenced to die?”

How morbid. 

Not that you’re above being morbid. 

You think about it often. How easy it would be to drive your dinner knife into Kodo’s throat. You’re seated beside him now at dinner, both of you at the head of the table, joined by the rest of his family. 

The thought of killing him is the only thing that brings you peace these days. You’ve never once in your life been violent until now. Din is good. He’s a good man. In every way he is the opposite of your husband yet Din is the one locked away, Maker knows where, while Kodo is being rewarded. 

It doesn’t make you mad, it makes you furious. 

It makes you want to poison his wine. 

But you don’t have poison. 

And you can’t put yourself in danger. Because you feel fundamentally different, and even if you refuse to think that such a thing is possible you know you wouldn’t just be putting yourself in danger. There’s more at stake now. 

That’s what you tell yourself to stay calm, a feat that is getting harder by the minute as you’re sat beside Kodo who is currently bragging about how he defeated a Mandalorian. 

“They aren’t as strong as you think they are. Under the armor they’re weak, pathetic.” 

It took six battle droids to keep him down. You didn’t even get near him. 

“Some people just need to be taught a lesson, don’t touch what isn’t yours.” He sneers and the rest of the table erupts into laughter. “I certainly taught that horned bitch a lesson as well, you all should have seen what they brought me last night.” 

You perk up, this is the only thing they’ve said in days that truly matters to you. You’ve heard nothing about the current state of either of them until now. 

“What did they do to Elaine?” Everyone’s head turns to you, all their expressions look as if you’ve announced something treasonous but Kodo smiles as if he were explaining something to a child. 

“She was properly punished, the way someone who observed such a crime with no intervention should be.” He puts his hand over yours when he says it. 

You don’t ask for any follow up. 

You don’t think you could stomach it, so you stay silent for the rest of your meal. When you’re finished you stand, the rest of the table is starting to pour more drinks but you simply lean down, mumbling something about being tired before giving Kodo a quick kiss on the cheek and dismissing yourself. 

You’re waiting for the night where he joins you in your chambers, after all his father is dead, but it has yet to happen. He had told you that once he was king he would be in need of heirs but he seems happy enough with his pleasure houses and you’re more than grateful for the women you entertain him so you don’t have to. 

So you return to your chambers alone, peeling off your gown before burying yourself under the covers. 

Sleep evades you as you toss and turn. You aren’t even tired, there’s too much going on in your mind, there’s no room for exhaustion. After about an hour you manage to drift in and out of unconsciousness, earning a brief reprieve from your anxieties until a sharp knocking has you jolting upright. 

You don your robe, rubbing sleep from your eyes as you rush to the door, you’re too tired to wonder who might even be bothering you at such an hour as you pull the door open. 

Lysa?

“We have to hurry, ma’am.” She grabs your arm, frantically tugging you into the hall. 

“Lysa? What are you doing? Are you okay?” 

“I am fine, but we don’t have much time.”

“Surely you have enough to tell me where we are going.” 

“Do you want to see him or not?” 

Din.

You nod, taking her hand as he rushes onward, stopping at each hall to peer around the corners until you make your way to a servants stairwell, skipping several steps in your descent until you run out of stairs. You’ve never been down here, you didn’t even know there were dungeons until recently. 

It makes your stomach twist in knots the moment you stare into the darkness. 

“Are there no guards?” You whisper, squeezing her hand.

“Not for the next hour, I’ve made sure of it.” She begins walking down the poorly lit corridor, pulling you along behind her. 

The stone floor is damp and it smells of mildew. Your bare feet are already freezing after just a few steps.

Every cell you pass is lit from the outside with a hanging lantern, they’re mostly empty, but you catch glimpses of movement out of the corner of your eye every now and then. In all honesty you’re doing your best to take in as little as possible, you don’t want to think about Din being down here in such a place, but there’s one element you can’t ignore. 

The wailing. 

Someone is weeping, a low, sorrowful song filling the vast maze of halls and you realize quickly you’re heading in its direction, Lysa tenses beside you as you continue on. You’re about to turn one more corner when she abruptly stops, turning to face you.

“He needs to eat.” She removes a fistful of rations from her apron pocket, shoving them into your hands. 

“He hasn’t?” He’s been down here for three days. 

“He won’t… let me.” You pause, cocking your head to the side and she gives you an apologetic look when she turns. “He won’t let me uncover his face.”

Oh. 

“I’ll feed him.” You nod slowly, tucking them into your own pockets before turning the corner. The contents of the cell immediately on your right have you stumbling backwards but Lysa is not swayed, pulling a key from her pocket, unlocking the door quickly before handing it to you. 

“He’s two cells down, on your right.” She doesn’t look at you as she rushes in, pulling a roll of bandages from her dress. “Shh… it’s okay, I’m here.” Her voice goes soft as she kneels beside Elaine. You can’t help it as you step into the entryway of the cell. 

Well, you’ve found the source of the wailing. 

She’s sat on a cot, curled in on herself as Lysa carefully peels back a series of soiled bandages from her face. 

“I’ve got you, it’s just me.” She continues to make an attempt to sooth a rather hysterical Elaine as she peels back the final layer of bandages and your stomach flips. “You’re okay, love, I need to change these.” You don’t know how Lysa is so calm, even in the darkness you can see the extent of her wounds. Now you know what they brought Kodo last night.  

Both eyes. 

“She was properly punished, the way someone who observed such a crime with no intervention should be.” 

Oh gods. 

You’re worried you may collapse as you watch Lysa tend to her with no hesitation, cleaning them with a careful hand before she begins to redress them. You can’t bear to watch any longer as Elaine begins sobbing once more. You try desperately to force the sight of your mutilated friend from your mind as you count down two more cells before quickly fumbling for the lock, letting it hit the floor as you take the lantern outside the door off its hook, bringing it into the dark room. 

It isn’t like Elaine’s cell. 

There’s no bed or interior light, it’s terribly dark and fetid, his cell running deeper than her’s. It takes a few steps for you to finally illuminate the room enough to see him. 

Maker. 

What have they done to your Din? 

You don’t hear Elaine anymore, there isn't a single thing that could distract you from the scene in front of you. There is nothing but the sight of your kar’ta. There’s too much for you to worry about, you don’t even know where to start, you’re frozen in place, a small part of your brain refuses to recognize the man before you as Din at all. He shouldn’t look like this. 

Armorless. 

They’ve stripped him of any clothing you recognize, the thought alone makes you nearly lose your dinner. 

They took his helmet, replacing it with a linen sack.  

Did they see his face?

You briefly have to shut your eyes, taking a deep breath as you take in the rest of him. His clothes are too thin, he must be freezing, they’ve dressed him in a cotton tunic and trousers that end just below the knee. You can see just how beaten and bruised he is. Unlike Elaine he’s in chains, kneeling on the floor with his hands shackled, taut above his head. You swallow the lump in your throat and finally crouch down in front of him, setting the lantern down beside you as you reach out to place a hand on his chest.

“Din…” Your voice cracks and the moment you come in contact with him he flinches back. Suddenly you know how Lysa held it together so well with Elaine, she just had to. You can’t fall apart, who would care for him now if you did? “It’s me, just me. Just me.” You whisper and place a hand over his heart but withdraw it quickly when he trembles under your touch. You ache at the sight of it but more than anything you’re confused, it only takes a moment for you to realize the issue. 

He doesn’t have his helmet. They’ve not only left him here blind, but deaf, of course any touch would frighten him. 

He assumes you're here to harm him. 

You lean in, careful not to come in contact with him as you speak clearly and loudly. 

“Din?” His trembling stops instantly. You find it a bit troublesome how much worse his hearing seems to have gotten in such a short time, you’re half tempted to reach under the bag to make sure he still has his ears. 

“Sarad?” Oh, Din. His voice is terribly small and it sends you forward, wrapping your arms around him as you pull him into an unreciprocated embrace. 

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” You make sure to speak loud enough for him before pulling back, placing your hands against the fabric covering his face. 

“Are you okay?” He coughs a bit as he asks and you almost laugh at how ridiculous the question is considering the state he’s in. Are you okay? 

Technically no. 

But far better than he’s doing. 

“I’m perfectly fine, what can I do for you? Are you hurting?” You feel his face through the bag as you look down across his body. It doesn’t look like there’s been any permanent damage outside of a pretty nasty cut on one of his legs. 

“Don’t worry about me.”

“Now’s not the time to play the hero, Din.” He flinches a little and you calm your tone immediately. What the hell did they do to him? “Just let me help.”

“How’d you get down here?” 

“Lysa, she says you aren’t eating.” 

“She’d have to lift my- the bag to do it.” He sounds apologetic, as if you could ever fault him for following his creed. 

“It’s okay… may I?” You bring your hands to the hem of the bag but his head turns sharply.

“I- I don’t want you to look.” 

You have no response. He’s always wanted you to look. 

“I just, I don’t think you wanna see the condition I’m in. I don’t want your only memories of my face to be this.” He whispers when you don’t respond.

You should have looked when he asked you to. You should have done a lot of things differently. 

You shouldn’t have waited so long to look. 

You shouldn't have waited so long to tell him you loved him. 

You should have just let yourself love him. Why did you fight it for so long? It seems silly now. If you could do it all again you would have just taken his helmet off the first night you met him and you would have married him right then and there. You would have left Naboo that night.

And you would never keep any of it from him. You would tell him how important he is and how loved he is, you wouldn’t make him wait. 

Even now you can’t help it though, censoring yourself out of fear. Do you tell him about how nauseous you get every morning? About the way Lysa stares at your belly when she does your makeup? 

No. 

It wouldn’t do either of you any good, not when he’s in this situation. 

You take hold of the edges of the bag once more, gentler this time. 

“I’ll close my eyes.” You lift the fabric completely off of him, setting it in your lap as you simultaneously shut your eyes. You keep one hand on his face, using your thumb to find the corner of his mouth as your other hand fumbles to open a ration bar. You feel him part his lips as you feed him. He’s barely chewing, eating quickly and swallowing most of it whole. “Have they fed you at all?” You whisper as he finishes the first bar in a matter of seconds, his teeth lightly scraping against your fingers before you withdraw them, tearing open another bar.

“No.” His voice is still soft as you go to feed him once more, opening each package until he’s eaten them all. 

“Are you still hungry? I could see if Lysa has more.” 

“I’m okay.” You let your head fall forward, resting your forehead on his. 

“What else can I do for you?” 

“Nothing. Being here is enough.” 

If you had felt helpless before it was nothing compared to this. This is more than helplessness, it’s despair. 

“I’m sorry.” You pull yourself further into his lap, wrapping your arms around him in the process. 

“Hey… none of this is your fault.” It certainly feels like it is. Why does he keep comforting you when he’s the one shivering and alone down here? 

“Please, there has to be something I can do to help you.” 

“There is one thing.” You almost open your eyes, you're so relieved, you just want to ease his pain. 

“Anything. I’ll do anything.” 

“I need you to promise me you won’t look.”

“Won’t look?” Your eyes are already closed, you couldn’t look any less if you tried. 

“When they do it. I don’t want you to see it- it won’t be pretty.”

When they separate his head from his body. 

“I won’t.” You can’t deny him this, you’ll give him anything he wants. “Do you know how much I love you?” You whisper before leaning forward another inch to kiss him. 

The question is genuine. It terrifies you to your core to think that he may not know just how much you love him. 

“Of course sarad.” He murmurs against your lips until you let your head rest on his shoulder, fighting back tears. 

What do you say now?

What do you say to a man condemned to death? 

“I love you.” You mumble into the thin fabric of his tunic. 

“I love you too.” After a moment more with him you hear metal jingling as Lysa locks Elaine's cell once more. You quickly pull back from him, pulling the bag back over his head, once you know he can’t see you anymore the tears flow freely. Lysa steps into the cell and you remove your robe, wrapping it around him, immediately he begins to protest. 

“Mesh’la, you can’t leave this here.” His voice is strained and it makes you sick to think he started crying once he was out of sight as well. 

“Please, y-you’re gonna freeze.”

“They’ll know you were here, sarad’ika.” 

“Din…” You’re practically babbling as Lysa removes your robe from his shoulders, an apologetic look on her face as she grabs your arm. 

“Ma’am, I’m sorry, but we need to go.” Tears sting your eyes as Lysa urges you to hurry but you don’t want to leave him, you want to stay, no matter the consequence. You pull away from her, wrapping your arms around his torso. 

“You need to go.” His voice is urgent through the fabric as you cling to him tighter. 

Would it be easier to just stay? Get caught and join him at the executioners? You’re genuinely considering it when you feel your stomach churn once more and you’re reminded of the exact reason why you can’t stay. Before you lose your nerve and shatter completely you lift the bag, just enough to give you an eyeful of his split lip and bruised jaw as you gently lean in and kiss him one more time. 

Doing everything in your power to remember exactly what it feels like.

The curve of his lips and the shape of his chin, the overgrown stubble brushing against your skin as you press your face harder against his, desperation taking over as you taste salt on his lips. You hold him as long as you can, until you hear Lysa urging you to make haste once more. 

“I love you.” You press your forehead to his through the fabric, feeling the familiar shape of his face against yours. 

“I’ll always be yours.” 

That was the last thing he was able to say before you let Lysa drag you out of the dungeons. 

☆

It’s like everythings suddenly back to the beginning. 

You wake up alone, you go to bed alone, and you wander the castle alone.

There is no plotting or scheming to free Din. 

Even if you were a trained killer or bounty hunter, it would be more than difficult to get him out of the dungeon and on a ship off Naboo. It would be even harder to do so when you’re one of the most recognizable people on the planet. 

He is buried deep beneath the ground and there is nothing you can do about it. 

After all, you're just a doll. 

You don’t know when it happened but all your clothes are blue again. Every dress Lysa fetches from the closet is a different shade of blue and all your nightgowns are the color of the sky. A personal brand put on you by Kodo. It’s clearly more than just a preference now, it’s a reminder to you and everyone else that you’re his. 

And time blends. 

You know a date was set right around the time you visited him. One week until Kodo’s coronation and two until the execution. His first public event after being crowned king will be a death sentence, how fitting. 

So you wake. 

And you sleep. 

And you walk. 

Kodo never replaces Din and you haven’t seen Leo since that night, so you’re completely alone. It’s like he’s rubbing in the fact that you’re powerless. There’s no need for you to have a guard, you can’t leave. If you tried you’d be escorted back in an instant. 

You tried to convince Lysa to let you see him again last night. 

“Please, just a few minutes-“

“I’m sorry ma’am, it’s just not possible. The only reason I was able to get you down there the first time was because the guard that usually lets me in was working nights, he won’t be working nights again until next month.”

Din won’t live to see next month. 

“Is he eating?”

“He won’t let me-“

“You need to insist. Tell him I insist, and tell him you’ll close your eyes.” 

She pins back a bit of your hair, leaving half up and half down. You both bask in the silence for a moment.

“I’ll make sure he eats.”

“Thank you.”

That had been the last conversation you had with Lysa. 

She doesn’t come to dress you in the morning. You think nothing of it and dress yourself in the gown she’d laid out last night. It’s a bit difficult, putting your coronation gown on on your own but eventually you manage, when you’re fully dressed in the obscenely decadent blue fabric you begin to worry. 

You have no reason to assume that everything is fine. It would actually make sense for this to be a worst case scenario situation, everything else in your life is right now. 

You’re about to leave in search of her but you decide against it. Sitting at the vanity and doing your makeup as quickly as possible, the last thing you need to do right now is give Kodo a reason to be upset with you, you have to be presentable. You smear the shimmering blue eyeshadow across your lids before rushing out of your room. 

The halls are full. Servants move quickly from room to room, cleaning every inch as you carefully push through the crowds, making a beeline towards the dining room. 

Kodo is seething when you push open the large doors. 

He stands at the end of the table, shoving an armored guard as the veins in his neck jut out in his rage. 

“Where could she have possibly gone? She’s blind. You’re telling me some blind bitch outsmarted my entire guard?” 

Your heart flutters at the thought.

They escaped.

Your hope is shattered the moment Kodo begins speaking again.

“At least we still have the Mandalorian… I want security tripled, guards stationed outside his cell at all times.” He continues grumbling for a moment until he realizes you’re there. “Happy coronation day dear wife! I’m afraid we’ve had a rough morning here, somehow in the night the Togruta girl escaped, do not fret, we’ll find her.” 

God's you hope not.

Even if things are worse than ever regarding Din there is one flicker of light in that darkness. Lysa got Elaine out. Knowing that almost puts you at ease.

“Happy coronation day.” You actually manage a smile when you look at your husband, it’s weak but it’s genuine. You want to be mad that they didn’t help Din escape but you just can’t be. You know they most likely tried but if the roles had been reversed and you could only get one of them out you wouldn’t hesitate. 

So there is no animosity. Just a flicker of happiness for them.

They got out.

☆

You were under the impression that a coronation was a happy event. Yet when you step out onto the castle steps it seems to be quite the opposite. 

They look miserable. 

All of their faces are sullen and dejected. How shocking, no one is excited about Kodo being crowned king. He didn’t have any of the outside of the castle decorated or made presentable in any way. No one reacts when Kodo reads from an ancient looking book until a crown is placed on his head. 

A moment afterwards you’re instructed to kneel and a tiara is placed onto your head. 

The audience is silent and you feel shame when you stare out at them.

Even if you don’t have very much power you still feel as if you’ve failed them. The feeling follows you when you’re directed to the dining hall with Kodo.

“I have a couple gifts for you, wife.” His twisted smile makes your stomach turn as you enter the dining hall, now decorated with blue and gray banners.  

“A gift? You shouldn’t have, my king, I- I didn’t get you anything.” You feign remorse as you take a sip of the wine in front of you on instinct before spitting it back up into the cup. 

“That’s more than okay, you’re my gift, sweet wife, all mine.” The thought of such a thing makes you sick, you smile despite yourself. 

“That’s very kind.” You’ll only ever be Din’s. No amount of blue fabric and faux smiles can change that. He snaps his fingers and a large box is brought to you by a servant, they set it directly in front of you on the table. You look at Kodo who nods, sitting back in his chair as you stand, the box is wrapped in checkered blue paper, a large bow adorning the top. Your hands tremble a bit as you take hold of the edges of the ribbon, tugging on them until the bow slips free, much to your surprise the entire box falls open, the sides collapsing giving you an immediate view of the contents. 

The silver, shimmering contents. 

Din’s helmet. 

Polished like new, it sits before you, and the room suddenly empties. It’s as if you are completely alone, despite all the eyes that are most definitely pinned on you right now. Your hands continue to shake as your fingers wrap around the beskar steel, like you would when you held Din’s face, lifting it to glare into the visor. 

Empty. 

You can’t help but stare at your own emptiness reflected back at you. 

You want to hold it close, press it to your forehead but you’re snapped back to reality by the grating sound of Kodo’s voice breaking you from your focus on the helm between your hands. 

“That’s only one of your presents, open the next one.” He hisses gleefully. 

You set the helmet down, realizing there was another, much smaller box underneath it. Silently you scoop it up and cradle it in your hands. It’s a larger than a ring box, it just barely fits in your palm as you ever so gently open it, swinging the top open as if it were a tiny treasure chest.              

Huh.

It takes a moment.

You aren’t exactly sure what it is you’re looking at at first but when it registers your entire body tenses up, your grip tightening on the gift box. 

Bloody and pink, a tongue. 

Of course you know better than to assume Kodo would give you any old tongue. This is a special someone’s tongue. 

No, no, no, no, no. 

You had loved his tongue before anything else.

He can’t do this, he cannot do this to you.

You had fallen for his sharp wit first, it was what drew you into him. His sweet words had won you back, his declaration of devotion.

Now you hold all of that in the palm of your hand. 

“What do we say?” His nasally voice breaks through your mental anguish. 

No.

“Come on, where are your manners?”

Please. 

“Thank you.” Your whisper is nearly silent as you struggle to keep down the scream bubbling in your throat.

“What was that?” 

You clear your throat. 

“Thank you.” 

He makes you take it with you. You don’t bother telling him you won’t be attending the coronation ball in a few minutes, it’s not like you’ll be missed. 

In one arm you’re cradling his helmet, in the other the little blue box. 

You set each one down carefully onto the bed, even if it’s a bit demented these are the only parts of him you have left. You stare at the little box. 

You have never been hateful. 

Kodo made you into this. You are full of hate, for most things at this point. You hate your husband, you hate your room, and most of all you hate the little blue box on the bed. 

And the music starts. 

It must be deafening in the hall for you to hear it from your room but it’s there, loud and demanding of your attention. 

You’re moving before you even have a chance to think about it, in a few quick strides you’re standing beside the vanity, your hands gripping the top of the mirror as you pull it down in one swift motion, the contents spill everywhere and the glass shatters in an instant, shards splattering the floor but you take no time to process it. 

You move on to the next thing.

You yank each drawer from the dresser, throwing them to the floor, clothes strewn about until it’s light enough for you to push the entire dresser over. In your frenzy you go about the room toppling every stupid fucking table over. So many fucking end tables in  one room, and you throw everyone to the floor, trinkets and vases clattering to the ground as you destroy the room. You get a rush of adrenaline as you lift one of your nightstands and throw it against the wall leaving a small dent but more importantly the force of it makes anything hanging on the wall tumble to the floor, glass frames shatter. 

Your chest heaves as you stare at the carnage.  

And it isn’t enough.

Your face is wet with tears and your hands with blood from cuts you didn’t feel upon your skin as you tear open the closet door, the pile of blankets mock you from the floor, you grab them, your vision now blurry with tears as you pull them out of the closet, throwing them onto your bedroom floor. When you return to the closet you’re in a frenzy, you tear at the fabric before you, yanking each and every dress off their hangers, ripping what you can.

There is nothing else for you to do, so you destroy everything you can get your hands on until the only thing left untouched is your bed, left in pristine condition as you let out a small sob. 

Maybe you are a hateful person now. 

You feel as though you have every right to be at this point. 

You step over the shard of glass, giving your bloody hands a glance before wiping them on your gown.

Happy coronation day. 

You sit on the bed, your trembling fingers wrap around the helmet, now that you’re alone you waste no time to hold it against you face, until your body just gives up, too tired to stay awake anymore.

☆

A guard wakes you in the morning, knocking on your door, when you answer it they tell you Kodo requires your presence in his chambers.

You dress in a blue gown that you don’t look too closely at. Stopping at the fresher on the way, rinsing the dried gore from your palms, wincing as you clean your wounds. None of which seem too deep. 

You want to cut Kodo’s tongue out, to make him feel it. But you know that sort of thing would be an impossible task. So you daydream about it as you walk. You’re more than displeased when you open the door and are greeted by Leodall. You hadn’t seen him since that night and from the looks of it he wasn’t expecting you. He swallows loudly when you step inside Kodo’s room.

Normally you’d be curious, you’d probably take a look around but your eyes refuse to focus on anything but Leo as you scowl at him. 

“Why’d you do it?” You don’t hesitate to ask, you have no idea how quickly Kodo will be joining you. 

He simply stares at you, shame apparent on his face.

“You owe me an explanation at the very least.” You cross your arms in front of your chest as he clears his throat. 

“I thought he’d reward me.”

You laugh. A harsh dry sound 

“What could he have possibly given you that you couldn’t have just asked me for?” Your gaze never softens and you’re practically seeing red as you stare at him.

“I thought he’d give me a lordship.” 

You can’t help it as another crisp and pained laugh slips past your lips. 

“You thought Kodo would raise your status? I thought you were supposed to be smart.” Is he an idiot? “He doesn’t see servants as people, if you wanted such a thing you could have asked me, maybe I could have done something.” 

A glimmer of something similar to hope flashes through his eyes. 

“Would you- would you consider doing so now?”

“You cannot be serious-” Your expression goes from fury to disbelief as you stand. 

“It seemed worth asking.” He puts his hands up defensively as you storm up to him, poking a finger into his face. 

“You slimy little weasel, it should be you on the chopping block, not him. If it were up to me I’d have them put your head on a spike.” The words pour out of you like venom. 

“I would be nicer to me if I were you.” He sneers and your incredulity only grows. You can’t help it, you scoff in his face. 

“I would rather die.” A part of you really means it. 

“You might if you aren’t careful, I saved your life by letting Elaine and your Mandalorian take the fall, I could have told the king that you were a willing participant. I saw the two of you together, I read your little rules. He never forced himself on you. I wonder what Kodo might think about that.” You aren’t a fighter, you’ve never so much as thrown a punch in your life but you grab him by the collar of his shirt and slam him into the wall, the back of his head hits the stone and you don’t feel an ounce of remorse as you do so. 

“Do it.” You tilt your head to the side, almost as if you’re taunting him. “Tell him.” Any of the confidence he briefly had is gone in an instant. “The moment you do I’ll tell him that you’re covering your tracks, and that you made a pass at me. I wonder how Kodo would reward you for trying to touch what’s his?” Leo’s head turns as you both hear Kodo’s piercing voice in the hall. You release your grip on his shirt, brushing off your gown as you turn towards the door. Kodo and three others make their way into the room as Leo coughs behind you. 

“Dear wife, I have another gift for you.” He takes a step to the side, gesturing at a line of three people you don’t give so much as a glance. He doesn’t even seem to notice the obvious tension in the room. “A new staff!”

“I don’t need a new staff, I’m fine on my own.” You abandon the pleasantries. You’re in such a state of upset right now, what's the point? 

“You’re the queen now, staff is required. These three will replace the ones you've lost in a week, until then Leodall will be training them intensively to tend to your every need. Two guards will also be assigned to you but I promise they will be much less loathsome than your Mandalorian.”

All five of them will be trained to keep an eye on you. To report back to Kodo, after everything with Din you should have known he’d keep you on a shorter leash. 

You barely look at them. 

You hate them. 

You shouldn’t, they’ve done nothing wrong, but you hate them. 

You give each one a quick up and down, naming them in your mind. 

A BD-3000 droid commands the most authority just based on how she stands so you mentally note her as Elaine's replacement. You’ll call her new Elaine. 

New Lysa is a pasty young blonde woman with rosy cheeks. You truly wonder how well informed she has been on your circumstance. She’s smiling from ear to ear and seemingly couldn’t be happier to be here. 

And new Leo is somehow even more nervous looking than actual Leo, practically shaking like a leaf at the sight of you. The bags under his eyes are worse than your own. A lanky thing with messy brown hair. 

There’s no reason for you to fight this, Kodo always gets his way so why bother. So you nod. You don’t pretend to be grateful this time, instead you shove your way past all of them, content to return to your room and never leave. 

☆

The morning of the execution comes before you’re ready for it. 

Of course you didn’t sleep last night, how could you?

You dress yourself, apparently your new staff isn’t starting until tomorrow, not that you mind another day to yourself. You manage to find something that isn’t blue, a gray dress trimmed with gold, the closest thing you’ll find to funeral attire. No one else will dress with any respect for him but they can’t stop you. Your vanity is destroyed so you don’t bother with your hair or your makeup, you simply don’t care enough. 

For the most part you feel nothing when you open the door, only emptiness until you look down. 

Someone left you a small vase of flowers. 

You pick them up, taking a closer look but your heart skips a beat when you do so.

Daisies. 

After a few short breaths you throw the vase into the wall across from your door, tiny shards of porcelain fly everywhere as two servants at the end of the hall give you a look of horror. Your shoes crunch over the remains of it as you make your way down the hall and to the entryway of the castle. 

Kodo insists that the two of you get to see him first. 

You’re sweating wildly out on the steps as you wait.

Long before you’re ready for it they bring him out. 

A shivering skeleton of a man with a linen bag over his head, immediately bile rises in your throat. Kodo is grinning ear to ear when his legs are kicked out from under him and he’s forced to kneel.

Kodo himself reaches forward and tears the bag off, too excited for any decorum or finesse. 

You gasp as you stare down at the broken man before you.

In all honesty he isn’t at all what you envisioned. 

His eyes verge on being hazel; they're such a light brown. You’d always pictured them to be nearly black. It doesn’t matter what color they are though, when you see the tears forming in his lash line you flinch, clutching the ring on your necklace to silently let him know silently just how much he means to you. 

He’s a mess. 

You don’t like looking at what those weeks in the dungeons did to him and the last thing you need to do right now is empty your stomach on the palace steps. 

He’s too thin. Far, far, too thin, it’s like his entire being has shrunk down. He’s hollow.

Your breath hitches when Kodo grabs a fistful of his dark hair, forcing him to turn and stare at the crowd. They must have cut it while he was down there it’s a mess, jagged edges and shorter than you’re used to. 

“This man has committed an act of treason against the crown.” His voice is loud and booming as the city goes quiet. “For such a crime he shall face the proper punishment.” He yanks him downawards, you watch in horror as Din’s head hits the stone, an incoherent mess of sounds pour from his bloody mouth and you have to look away. 

He didn’t want you to look.

You remind yourself to try and calm your breathing. You can hear the scuffle as they drag him to the guillotine, placing his neck into the wooden divot, your heart threatening to beat out of your chest as you turn to look. His eyes are everywhere but on you as he looks at the people around him, desperately pleading for his life. Not a single person so much as glances at him, afterall, it’s just nonsense, no one can understand him without a tongue. 

You can’t stand it, you almost cover your ears but you manage to resist as Kodo puts an arm around your waist, pulling you close to him. 

“You’re welcome, sweet wife.” He whispers, his breath hot and wet against your ear. 

Fuck it. 

You don’t suppress the shudder in your spine as you shoot him a look of disgust. In a matter of moments everything you care about will be gone, why pretend any longer.

A bellowing chime plays from a nearby clock tower and you know it’s time, you straighten up as you stare at the guillotine in abject horror. 

This is it. 

Your chest rises and falls in sharp short bursts as everyone prepares themselves, a hush forming among the crowd on the street. 

And it begins, a chain reaction that you cannot stop now that the executioner has his ax raised above his head.

You had expected more. More time.

A part of you thought that time would slow, that you’d have a chance to stop it. 

But no. 

There is no epic fairy tale moment where the sun glimmers off of the blade and the executioner raises his ax, giving you this perfect moment to run to him, to shield him from the inevitable, to beg them to take you with him. 

That moment never comes. 

You barely have enough time to close your eyes like you promised him. In one unbroken motion the rope is cut, the blade falls and boom. 

Just like that, he’s gone. 

When you hear the metal slicing through the air you squeeze your eyes shut, hearing only the wet crunch as it cuts through flesh and bone. A soft, squishy thud when his head hits the stone. 

In fashion with your decision to no longer hide your disgust from Kodo you vomit. Bending down you puke onto the stones, spraying your own, and Kodo’s feet. The triumphant smile on his face vanishes as he realizes what’s happened. You wipe your mouth on the back of your hand, refusing to look at Din’s limp body as you give Kodo one last look of detestation before turning around and running back into the castle, not caring what anyone thinks anymore.

The moment you’re inside the reality of it all settles in as you feel tears falling wildly as you run up the steps to your room.

☆

You have been good, and kind, and in return the maker rewarded you by killing the love of your life. 

So when you stand in the center of your demolished room you do the only thing your body can do at this point. 

You scream. 

From deep within your stomach, you scream, loud and raw. 

If anything was left unbroken in your room you’d be throwing it at the wall. But there’s nothing so you scream. 

You shriek.

You howl. 

And you wail.

You scream until there is no more noise. Your voice, like the rest of you, gives up. 

You aren’t sure how late it is when you finally stop. You’re tired and it’s dark outside and your throat is raw. 

And you lay on the floor. Because the bed is too big, and too cold, and the closet is so empty. So the only place left to sleep is there. You lay on the floor with no more tears to cry and no more sounds to scream as you stare at your bed, only from this angle can you see a rectangular shape under your bed frame. 

You wipe your nose with a stray piece of fabric before slowly crawling over to it, you sit on the floor and when you retrieve the item a brand new lump forms in your throat as you stare down at the box Din had bought all those days ago at the market. 

Your failsafe. 

With quivering hands you open it, staring into the small space containing a mess of items but what catches your eye is a piece of folded paper with your name on it. You take it between your fingers, opening it, careful to not let your tears fall onto it. 

Sarad’ika,

If you’re reading this then I’m afraid things aren’t going all that well for me. There are plenty of possible reasons as to why I’m no longer with you, but what’s important is that I plan on doing everything in my power to get back to you. There is only one thing in the galaxy that could keep me from your side, and if that is my fate then this box will ensure you’re taken care of. 

The most important thing is for you to get off this planet. I have included a few possible plans for you, do what you have to to survive. Elaine will help you escape. 

You can seek out Greef Karga on Nevarro. Tell him Din Djarin sent you, tell him what’s happened and he will see to it that you are cared for. Explain our circumstances and I am certain he will provide you with safe lodging. 

Tatooine is also an option. You’ll find a Mandalorian there by the name of Boba Fett, he will not turn you away. You will be protected there, if you need to relocate for some reason after that he will help you locate the Mandalorian convert. Show the Mandalorians your ring and you will be cared for the rest of your life, the convert will protect you. 

As an absolute last resort there is a planet located in the Outer Ring called Ossus. There is a school there, taught by a man named Luke Skywalker. I doubt he would be eager to take you in but you must insist. Bring the chainmail, they’ll know who sent you. Take care of each other. 

In this box you will find enough credits to get you off planet and take care of you for several months, a year if you’re frugal, I suggest you take a few jewelry pieces to pawn off for extra credits as well. You will find a small chainmail shirt, and a necklace of mine. 

And lastly you will find your vibroblade. 

Protect yourself. You’re strong, and more than capable of doing so.

I have one request for you, please, I will only ask this one thing of you. 

Be smart. 

You are the smartest and kindest person I have ever had the honor of knowing. Be smart, take care of yourself. If the roles were reversed I know that I would go to extremes to either get you back, or find justice for you. And all I can do is ask that you do not attempt any such thing, the only thing I would ever want for you is safety and happiness. 

So seek those things out. 

Be safe. Be happy.   

I was lucky to know you, and even luckier to be yours. 

an ner kar'taylir darasuum, 

Din

All my love. 

You flip the paper over, desperate for more, more Din, but all you find is scrawled coordinates to each location. Your fingers sift through the items, everything he promised is found inside but you latch onto the blade. Laying back down on the floor you clutch it between your fingers as you think of Din.

Din, who was yours.

Din, who they took from you.

Who Kodo, took from you. 

And your grip on the knife tightens. 

☆

Two guards stand outside your door round the clock now. 

They never follow you or come into your room but they’re there, silently watching as you direct all your anger at your new staff. As promised Leo trained them to be as persistent and infuriating as he was. 

When the two new girls come to fetch you in the morning you can’t help it when you scream at them to leave you alone and to stop trying to clean the ever growing mess of things. 

It doesn’t matter that it isn’t their fault, you can’t stand the sight of anyone. 

All three of them try. New Elaine and Lysa show up three times a day, trying to dress you and squeeze their way past you into the room but after enough shrieking they always leave you be. 

New Leo usually tries once or twice a day, you don’t even look at him. You always stare at the floor, when he tries to speak you give him the same treatment as the girls, screaming at him and slamming the door. 

Why should you let them in? You know what they are. They’re here to spy on you, to be Kodo’s eyes while he’s busy being king. They’re easy to evade. When you leave to fetch yourself food or a book from the library you easily outrun them. The two girls are worse at navigating the castle than you were when you first arrived and new Leo has a bad leg, sometimes he’ll make attempts to limp after you but they’re always unsuccessful. 

You think of nothing, day after day because there is nothing to think about. 

Except for the fact that Kodo took your future away from you. He took everything from you. 

If you thought time was blending before Din’s death nothing could have prepared you for now. You don’t track the days as well, you keep your curtains drawn and only leave when you get hungry or start to think of Din. The last thing you need to do is have another screaming fit so you keep him locked away in your heart, an ache that’s always there that you don’t address. 

One day, in a fit of tears you took your knife and decided on a whim to kill Kodo. You didn’t care about the repercussions at that point you just wanted him to suffer but the moment you opened the door you nearly tripped, stumbling backwards the guards didn’t so much as glance at you. 

Another vase of flowers.

You’re tempted to just kick them down the hall but you can’t help yourself when you lean down to pick them up. 

A bouquet of blue lilies. Your nose twitches at the sight of them, out of the corner of your eye you see new Lysa and new Elaine approaching so you take the opportunity to slam the little glass vase into the stone floor. Glaring at them when you do before returning to your room. 

☆

Maybe it’s been three days since Din died. 

Maybe it’s been three months. 

You aren’t sure.

You aren’t sure when you made plans to kill Kodo either but suddenly you have them. A fool proof way to get him alone. 

And suddenly you’re dressed for the first time in, well, however long it’s been. In a baby blue nightie with a robe you march out into the hall. The guards watch in silence as you walk away, your bare feet scampering down the stairs until you find yourself watching the main entrance. Waiting for your loving husband to make his nightly trip to a pleasure house, a trip that is typically accompanied by guards. 

You grip the handle of the knife in your pocket as you wait until you finally hear footsteps approaching. 

“Kodo, honey?” You step out from behind the stone column, holding your robe closed as you bat your eyelashes at him. He stumbles around drunkenly until his eyes focus on you. 

You’ve only used your voice for screaming for so long you sound meek, exactly as you want to right now. 

“Wife?”

“I thought maybe you’d like to join me tonight…” You hold a hand out towards him, putting on a sickly sweet tone of innocence. His mouth twists into a grin. 

“I knew you’d come around eventually.”

He doesn’t question where you’re taking him, he simply follows.

What a joke. 

You pull him up the stairs, you know from hide and seek where to find an empty room so you guide him there in calculated silence until he trips a bit, laughing to himself as he stutters.

“I knew if I got rid of the Mandalorian you’d realize how much better I am than him.” The statement doesn’t sit right with you and he can see it on your face, even in his drunken state he can sense your confusion. 

You both stop, you’re above him on the stairs as you turn and stare into his eyes.

“You- you knew?”

He simply nods, that sickening smile of his is plastered on his face. His icy blue eyes shimmer with delight. 

“How long?”

“When Leo told me I remembered everything. That little altercation in the hall when your boy knocked me out came right back to me, from there it wasn’t hard to figure out.” Your eye twitches as he speaks.

He knew you loved him and he took him from you anyway.

Any hesitations you had are gone as you nod, pulling him onward until you reach the large vacant tower room. He’s so drunk you decide to just drop the voice, pointing at a spot on the floor. 

“Lay down.” You mumble, reaching into your pocket once more.

He eagerly does as he’s told, laying down on the cold stone, you take a deep breath, in one swift motion you grab your knife, holding it behind your back as you toss your robe aside. He gives you a toothy grin as you ever so slowly walk to him, standing above him before sitting, straddling his waist. 

You look him up and down, one last time. 

Your loving husband. 

One of his hands plays with the blue lace of your nightie as you collect yourself. You look up at the ceiling briefly. 

I’m sorry. 

Not for Kodo, but for Din. This is exactly what he didn’t want you to do. 

You aren’t a killer. And you aren’t hateful, but a person can only be pushed so far before something breaks. 

Be smart. 

You think of Din’s note one last time before you bring the blade out in front of you and slam the blade into Kodo’s chest. 

He makes a sickly wet sound, coughing as he stares at you in shock.

You remove the knife, the hot steel cauterizes his wounds, there isn’t so much as a drop of blood as your face twists with fury and you bring it down again into his stomach now. 

How dare he look surprised by any of this. 

After what he took from you? He deserves galaxies worse. 

So you remove the knife. 

And you stab him again.

And again,

and again,

and again,

and again,

and again.

Until there is no more shocked look on his face. You don’t have a snarky remark or a statement to commemorate your revenge, you’re all used up at this point, all you have is this, this stabbing motion. 

He didn’t even have a chance to fight back.

You crawl off of his body, sitting on the stones as you toss the knife to the side, waiting for a rush of euphoria. 

But it never comes. 

It doesn’t feel as good as you thought it would. 

Staring down at Kodo’s lifeless body. You let yourself crumble. Collapsing down onto the floor, gasping for air as you sob. 

This was never going to bring him back. 

You lay there on your hands and knees for quite some time, just wailing, because what else are you supposed to do right now? You realize far too late that this was never an act of malice, some demented and shattered part of you thought that this would somehow bring him back, that it would give you peace. 

They won’t execute you. 

You planned this exactly so they wouldn’t.

Kodo didn’t tell anyone about your relationship with Din in much detail, not enough for them to assume that you could be with child. Everyone will assume that it’s Kodo’s. They won’t kill you, they can’t. 

Not if they think you’re carrying Kodo’s child. Now that Kodo’s dead, there’s no one to tell the royal family that you never consummated your marriage, your child is the most well protected person on the planet. The future monarch. It’s almost funny, you haven’t permitted yourself to think about the stirring within you as a child until just now, in this moment of weakness. A child, your child. 

Who will most likely grow up without a mother because of the decisions you've made today.

You bite your fist, swallowing a scream as you sit back on your heels. 

Your child will never know how loved they were. Your little one will never get to sit beside their mother while their father teaches them to sew. You put your head in your hands as you wail, no longer caring who hears. Your fate is sealed, what does it matter? 

You don’t turn when you hear someone coming up the stairs. When they pull you into their arms you try uselessly to shove them away. Your vision is blurry and filled with tears as you stare up at the unfamiliar figure now holding you. They rub your back, drawing swirls and stars against your spine as they pull you closer. 

“It’s okay, I’ve got you.” They mumble into your hair. You dry your eyes hastily on your sleeve, confused by the voice you’re hearing, it’s painfully familiar, on instinct you wrap your arms around their torso, pulling yourself into their lap as you both sit on the floor beside Kodo’s body. “You’re okay, I’m here.”

“I’m- I’m sorry.” You whisper against the stranger's shirt. You knew you weren’t hateful. You’re certain of it now because even though he took quite literally everything from you, you still feel bad when you look at Kodo. 

A large hand cups your face, pulling you back to their chest so you can’t see the corpse anymore. 

“I didn’t mean it- I- I didn’t mean to kill him. Well I did but I just-” You begin to ramble as a fresh flood of tears begin sliding down your cheeks. 

“Hey- hey it’s okay. I know you didn’t mean it. We gotta get you cleaned up, okay? I’ll take care of this, I’ll fix it.” Their arms tighten around you, giving you a reassuring squeeze. You finally find the courage to look at your companion and it takes a moment for you to even realize who you’re looking at. 

New Leo. 

Why would he help you? You treat him like shit. When you look at him he looks like he’s about to cry and for the first time since Din was taken from you drop the walls you’ve put up and you let yourself feel bad for him. You show an ounce of kindness to him because in all honesty he’s the first person to make you feel safe since the night Din was taken from you. 

A lighthouse while you sail through a storm.

So you hug him. 

You pull yourself closer to him and you offer him a comfort you haven’t known for days.

“I’m sorry… for all of it, but especially the flowers, I should have told you, I just- you wouldn’t let me and the guards wouldn’t let me in without your permission and you just wouldn’t look at me.” He begins to mumble his own apologies, sending a surge of confusion through you. 

You furrow your brows, pulling back once more giving him a perplexed look as you search his nearly black eyes for some kind of answer. 

And it clicks. 

All at once it snaps into place and you want to say his name, so desperately, but you’re terribly afraid of being wrong. 

And then he smiles. A soft smile that makes you feel okay and you don’t even care if you’re wrong and you don’t care if it doesn’t make sense you just have to ask.

“Din?”

☆

a/n : yeah so uhhhhh yeah uhhhh this is the first chapter i've ever written where im actually very fond of the writing and nervous about the plot stuff so im gonna go hide?? and just vanish for a while lol

//

I don't have a tag list anymore !! follow @lincolndjarinnotifs for updates!!

[lynnlovesthestars]

Scars.

Pairing: Astarion x reader Genre and warnings: angst, lots of it, hurt barely any comfort, allusions to sexual assault, past trauma, graphic description of torture, kidnapping, blood, violence, set in act 3, mention of death. Notes: not proof read ngl, i wrote it after dreaming it, and i didnt even wanna read it again, i cried like a bitch cause it’s kinda like…. past experience projected? just yeah dont ask if im ok after writing this, the answer is no lmao... also just a side note since it’s the first time im posting on this profile, but english is not my first language so please be mindful about it. Edit 10/06/23: i finally went through it end edited it.. i hope i catched all the errors cause idk if i'll ever be strong enough to give it another read ahah

Getting so close to someone meant so much for Astarion, and the more he cared, the more new fears would swim through his brain. 

Since you arrived in the lower city, and his bed was no longer cold at night, a new nightmare snuck in.

The idea that Cazador would be able to get to you, and weaponize you against him, made his cold blood run even colder. Several nights you woke up to a trembling and sweating Astarion, as he was begging for mercy. He never explained too much about these nightmares to you, just letting you know it was about Cazador again and again, but he left out the haunting possibility of you getting hurt because of him. On the other hand you believed it was because you were getting so close to the Szarr palace, and Cazador knew about it just as much as Astarion did.

It was the middle of the night when the sound of a broken glass stirred you awake. You looked around you, Astarion still deep into his meditating state, while the others were asleep as well, none of them reacted to the sound like you did. Maybe you just had a light sleep, you thought, and someone in the tavern dropped a few glasses or something. It was when hands gripped your wrists that you jolted up, looking behind you. It was too dark to see, and all you could spot were the deep red eyes, like Astarion's, though they lacked the warmth of his.

A shiver ran through your spine as you realized what was happening, but when you tried to call for the others, you realized how deep in shit you actually were: no sound would leave your lips, like you were silenced.

"There's no need to be afraid, Tav." A deep cold voice whispered so close to your ear. "They can't hear you".

The voice chuckled at your failed attempts to call for Astarion, Karlach or anyone, as tears were starting to pool at the edge of your eyes.

Another pair of hands took hold of Astarion, magical shackles fastened around his hands and feet, just as they did to yours, and then they started dragging you both away.

The deep voice spent the whole travel taunting you with stories of Cazador, how cold blooded he was, and just how much he enjoyed torturing his victims. From one point of view you were already accustomed with such stories about him, but from the other, the idea of Cazador getting hold of Astarion again, made your blood freeze again. You were not going to let Cazador hurt him again. You were set on the idea.

When you reached the corridors of Cazador's palace, the silencing spell finally wore off, though Astarion was still not moving. Terror flashed through your eyes as you wondered if they had already…

"What did you do to him?!" You breathed out as you tried so hard to keep your calm in front of the spawns that were dragging and pushing you through the dark hallways.

The spawn scoffed as he pushed through and through.

"Don't worry, he's not dead" You could feel his eyes rolling at the question, like it was some dumb question you should have known the answer to. "..yet" he added at last.

You couldn't stop your mouth from twitching, between the state of rage that was slowly building up, or the terror of them hurting Astarion.

"What's going on? Can i know that at least?" You wanted so bad to cast a spell on him, charming him into freeing you, but without the use of your hands, you were useless.

"Cazador wants to give you a warm welcome into Baldur's gate" He giggled, as the smell of old blood mixed with the sour taste of the bile threatening to spill from your lips, and you couldn't hold it anymore, and your feelings started spilling out.

You couldn't help then to try and get Astarion free at least. You wanted to shake those hands off of you, to wiggle out of the shackles that bound your magic, but no matter how much you tried, you were like set in stone, unable to do anything but move forward, shed tears, and talk. Or more specifically, beg.

Beg them to hurt you, instead of Astarion. 

Beg them to keep you here, and let your star free.

Beg them to turn you if needed, but spare Astarion's life.

Anything, if it meant not hurting the man that stole your heart with a dagger to your throat.

Quickly you were tossed in a cage, adjacent to Astarion's, and locked in.

The shackles that bound your feet dissipated, as the cage started ascending upward.

It halted in front of an altar, you guessed, that directly faced into the chasm you ascended from. Other spawns, around twenty you were able to count, started taking seats around the edges, sitting all in religious silence on their knees.

Astarion was still passed out, cradled on the floor of the cage, both restraints still tightly bound to him.

"Please, please, please" You cried out as the last bit of your strength was going to be dedicated towards trying to get Astarion free, far away from this place. "Let Astarion go, i beg you" You repeated your plea again, as you saw all those spawns stir from their seats, they wanted to turn their heads, to face whoever was foolish enough to beg Cazador for mercy, to trade spots with Astarion.

Everyone in that room knew what was going to happen, he was going to show them what happens when you disobey, when you run away thinking you can escape him. Instead you were so foolish and blinded by love, that you wanted to take Astarion's place, unaware of the extent that Cazador would go to. Yet you didn't stop, you kept begging and begging until a voice, the voice, echoed through the altar's walls.

"Tsk you just gave me a wonderful idea" the man hummed as his scepter started glowing, and Astarion started stirring awake, he looked around him, his tired eyes quickly widening as the reality around him had set in his mind.

"Let her go, you son of a bitch" Astarion growled as he stood up so quick, and gripped at the iron bars separating him from Cazador. 

"Touch her and I swear I'll spill your guts right here" He spit out of the cage, a symbolic spit cause you were too far away to reach him.

"My, my, our dear Astarion has forgotten all the manners" He cooed as his lips smacked together, his voice so honeyed it was bringing you to the verge of vomit.

You wanted to reassure Astarion, let him know that you were going to do your best to free him, that you were both going to be out of there alive soon, but could you? Could you lie so much to the man you loved? Words were stuck on your tongue, making your throat drier and drier.

You guessed you zoned out for a few seconds as your head was flooded with thoughts, missing the hate Astarion was throwing at his master.

"Ah sweet Astarion, your dear Tav has given us a great idea though, it would be a shame to let it go to waste" He hummed, as the staff light up again, the lock on your cage fell down the chasm, as your trembling body was slowly being dragged out of the cage by magic.

"No, no, no, no" Astarion reprated as his eyes locked on you, falling on the long streaks of tears running down your cheeks as you tried to offer him a sad smile, your lips muttering an "it's going to be okay" while his body was about to give in to desperation, loud sobs echoed from him, as your heart broke at his sight: he was barely standing up now, his hand gripped tight as he screamed through the hall to let you go, to not hurt you, to stop. "This is just a nightmare" He fell on his knees as you were slowly dropped on the cold floor, barely keeping your head up as you realized you were still in his shirt, the one he loved on you.

"Oh dear Astarion" Cazador cooed again as he kneeled in front of you, his cold fingers getting ahold of your chin, to tilt your head towards his. "This is not a nightmare, this is real" His words were like cold daggers through your chests, you knew that whatever was going to happen, it was not going to be fun.

Before you could say anything, Cazador's hand slipped to your waist pulling on the shirt as you flinched away, disgusted by the touch of the vampire in front of you.

But he didn't care, he was swift in removing it, leaving you bare in front of dozens of eyes.

You could hear the rattling coming from Astarion's cage as he attempted to break free over and over again while his chest was about to explode.

He didn't have the right to undress you in front of everyone, he didn't have the right to touch you at all, not when he prayed every night to have the chance to see you bare, to hold you. His thoughts were swinging back and forth between desperation and deep seethed rage.

"My, my I can see why our Astarion has fallen for this little creature" Cazador's compliment almost made you retch as you stumbled back a little. "She even puts up a fight" He chuckled as he lunged forward just enough to grip at your wrist and whipping you on your feet.

Every inch of your skin was visible to everyone, from the battle scars you got through the years of adventuring, to the teeth marks on your neck, down to the stretchmarks that lived on your hips.

A shiver ran through your spine as Cazador’s fingers grazed over the two marks on your neck. “Mh, your blood seems to be sweet enough, right Astarion?” His cruel words hit Astarion through the chest. He was one word away from a breakdown as he couldn’t do anything but witness his nightmares coming alive, not his Tav, not when he would be so careful to cradle you and comfort you to his chest whenever he'd drink from you.

Whatever he was screaming was incomprehensible to you, as all you could feel was the way Cazador gripped and pushed you towards a plush chair, where he sat with legs wide open before dragging you on his lap. You felt so nauseous as he bent you towards the arm rest, making you face the cold grey floor.

You wanted to hear the taunting explanation of what he was going to do, but all the sounds were drowned by the thrumming of your chest and the desperation in your own thoughts, repeating over and over that you were going to find a way out, trying to convince your brain to shut off and dissociate as you were there, like you were just in a nightmare, and you’d be awake soon.

All you could gather was few words like “knife”, “mark”, reminder”, and then “Astarion”. He was torturing him through you, and you couldn’t do anything about it. The worst part in this, was that you were the one that gave him the idea, cause you wanted him to free Astarion, and instead he let it all out on you instead than on your Aster, as a punishment for you both. You cause you were so careless to offer yourself though you didn't know the risk, and Astarion for being reckless and disobedient. Right there, as the dagger pierced your spine, you regretted not whispering Astarion how much you loved him, while you were tight against his chest, when the world around you was asleep, and you had a corner of peace. You always knew what you felt for him, from that moment on the beach, at the shipwreck, and yet you just wanted to tell him in the right moment. But what was the right moment? You might never know, as a broken scream broke through your lips, salty tears flowing free, so much that you thought for a moment that you might have died of dehydration, if the knife wasn’t going to do it first.

He carved and carved over your back, intelligible lines and symbols as you finally understood what Astarion meant when he told you how he got his scars. How gut wrenching the pain was as he couldn’t move, and how Cazador didn't allow a break, and retraced the lines that were wobbly if he moved too much.

“You know?” Cazador asked, as everyone’s eyes were on what he thought was a work of art, your carved skin, while Astarion’s plea echoed over and over in the room. “Our sweet Astarion used to whine just like you” He hummed. “Just a pathetic little child” He spit out like venom as you could barely breathe out few words along the lines of “you disgusting monster”, though you were not sure you actually let them out until, Cazador’s laugh filled every corner of the disgraced altar. Your tadpole writhed as another line was cut at the height of your hips, before, Cazador started retracing the lines and pulling away the skin, exposing the deepest layers of your flesh, the pain was so deep your vision blurred, and you were so close to passing out right there.

You don’t know how long you sat there, you slipped between pain and numbness as Cazador slapped you back to consciousness whenever you'd slip away, you had to endure the agonizing scarring and remember every second of it. He decorated with bloody lines almost all over your body.

You didn’t know what was worse between laying on the raw scars of your back, seeing your own skin being peeled away or the cries and sobs coming from the man you loved. You had to find a way, you couldn’t give up, you couldn’t allow this monster to walk the earth again. You had to do it for Astarion.

You were not sure when he dropped you on the floor, your body barely able to hold itself together as finally you could look around you and towards Astarion. Every face around you was stoic, like they were used to witnessing such spectacle, and they knew what was going to happen next.

You wanted to reach for Astarion, to take him away from the revolting scene in front of his eyes, you wanted to take away his pain, give him the last bit of hope you had, but when you were about to link your tadpole to his to do it, you hesitated. Connecting your minds meant he would feel how dirty, wretched and lost you felt, along with the gut wrenching pain ebbing through your body.

You could barely make out the words Cazador said as his nails dig through your skin again, even when he pulled your eyes to his you could barely read his lips as he said words you just wanted to cancel from your brain. A broken sob regurgitated from your throat as he was going to take the last thing you had. You just had to let your brain go, right? To ignore the teeth dipping in your throat and the putrid hands slithering down your skin, taking away enough blood to barely keep you alive as he took you in front of everyone.  It was no longer just physical pain, it was the way you felt your own body being stolen away and used in way no one ever dared before.

Numbness was all that was left of you after a while, of your barely beating heart while more hands crawled their way through places were you never wanted anyone to touch, then, in that moment, you realized you were free of your shackles, because you were so drained and broken that you could barely do anything. You could barely by aware of your surroundings, of how many bodies were preying on you, as you could barely manage to move inches.

Your vision was all but clear, you could make out the outline of Cazador as he was buttoning up his blouse again. Then you could see Astarion, still caged, struggling to stay sane as he wanted just to take you away from the monsters abusing of you, abusing of the fact that you were powerless in front of them. His eyes were a bloodshot, he was so hurt that he resorted to supplicate for mercy, to let you go and just kill him, whatever that could stop the agonizing pain. You didn’t have much strength left, maybe if you put all of yourself, you could muster two spells before passing out again. 

It took all you had to even raise your hand towards the lock that sealed Astarion’s crate, you mustered all your willpower to cast that knock spell, just enough to let the damn lock fall down. Astarion instantly turned to you, to your teary form still being touched by unworthy creatures, noticing how your hand barely held up, as you tried to cast one more spell, just for him, before another broken scream echoed in the room, bouncing from wall to wall till it reached Astarion's core. The kind of scream that should never be drawn by someone, nevertheless by you.

The radiant dagger materialized in his hands, and for a moment he didn’t notice it as he was fixated on the broken look on your face, encouraging him to end his master, although you suffered right there, paces away. “I love you” You mutter barely, you wanted to let him know before you could draw your last breath, then everything blurred.

Everything was muffled, you couldn’t see what was going on around you, you just felt all the presences around you disappear, while Astarion’s voice was crystal clear through the excruciating pain.

"I'll kill you, then I'll bring you back, and kill you again.” He shoved Cazador on the floor, just like he did with you, to remind him how he hurt you, how he used you, how he touched the only person he should have never laid hands on. “I’ll do it over and over again until you have suffered a tenth of what you did to her. Then I'm going to gut you one more time, and paint this shithole with your putrid blood. The halls of this place will reek with your disgusting blood, to let the whole city be aware of your death and from which the hands it came from” His hands were shaky, but he had to do it. For him, but mainly for you. All that was left of him was you, and nothing could ever be enough to vindicate you.

The shiny dagger stabbed over and over again through Cazador’s chest, while Astarion cursed him, every thrust of the dagger through the heart earned a new mocking insult, a new reminder of what he did, while all of Astarion's anger was channeled into annihilating him.

You just laid there, all you could do was listen to the grunts and the hate slipping from your lover’s lips as he dipped that dagger in the gutted body. You didn’t even realized when he dropped the disemboweled body on the marble, you weren’t even sure you could breathe, at that point.

A pair of shaking arms wrapped around your drained body, Astarion’s shirt was used again to cover your skin, as he picked you up, trying to be as delicate as possible. His salty tears fell over your body as he carried away from the nauseating scene, you frail body barely shivering, and your chest barely moving. He was muttering something to you, but everything sounded foreign at your hear.

He had to move quickly, find Shadowheart or Halsin, or anyone to heal you, to keep you alive. It was in this moment that he wished he could beg a deity to keep you alive, but he didn’t trust anyone else to tend you. He needed to rush outside of this place and get you to safety. 

He didn’t expect to see everyone outside the locked ballroom door, as they fumbled to open the door. They were taken by surprise at the sight of Astarion cradling you to his chest, all covered in blood, while his eyes were a pit of pain and tears.

Shadowheart didn’t hesitate to heal you right there before they all guided you towards the tavern you've been resting. They all offered to carry you, to make Astarion breathe a bit while on your way back there, but he refused. “I can’t..” He mumbled. “I don’t want..” His voice was just a whisper, broken. “I need” He wanted to break down again with you in his arms, but he had to lay you down first, to let you rest in a warm bed, he had to bring you to safety again, away from anyone that could pose any harm to you. He needed to see that smile again, cause no power flowing through his veins could have replaced you. He failed you once, he was not going to do it again. You saved him, twice, he had to do it just once for you. He had to thank you, and he had to tell you how much he loved you.

[highhhfiveee]

mint

pairing: mike schmidt x blackfem!reader summary: you’re abby’s mint chocolate-loving babysitter. mike takes notice. wc: 1.3k tags: suggestiveness, swearing, fluff. *minor movie spoiler that isn’t a spoiler fr but kind of is* a/n: oi. this is my first official piece of fanfic on tumblr and i'm excited but also super nervous. i never knew what characters i wanted to write for as most of my fandoms are obsolete tbh (teen wolf and maze runner, i'm looking at you 💔) but after watching the fnaf movie and falling in love with j hutch like i'm 14 again, i wanted to try to write for mike!  i'm sorry if this story sucks tbh. i wrote it pretty quickly, did not edit it in any way (watch for grammar and spelling errors!) and i'm still trying to establish characters and plot and do all this silly billy worldbuilding, but i'll get better! i'm also taking requests for both fluff and smut, so if y'all would like to send anything for me to write, i'll def accept! like i said in my last post, i think i'm gonna redo my tumblr layout so i can feel like a true fanfic/misc blog lmao so ignore its under construction phase ((: i hope y'all enjoy this though bc i've been thinking ab mike schmidt all night 

i have sooo many ideas, but between last night and this morning, i’ve been thinking of abby’s babysitter!reader (bc fuck max). 

you’ve been channel surfing in the living room since you put abby down, working with her to lock down a nightly routine. ideally, she’d bathe, eat dinner (god willingly), brush her teeth, and then you’d be able to get her to lay in bed and doze off. some nights, this required dessert. 

“you just brushed your teeth though. it’s gonna taste gross.”

“not if it’s one of those mint chocolate things you always have.” you straighten up, eyes squinted at the child before you; she meant the small, sometimes melted, squares of Andes mint chocolate you always kept. they’d always been your favorite, a guilty pleasure in this fucked up world. 

you hadn’t been babysitting abby for long, and you didn’t realize that she'd been watching you crush the chocolates like it was light work. they were easy to eat, and once you had one, you found out how easy it was to eat another one, and then another one, and then another one until there was a mountain of crinkled foil next to your phone and chocolate smeared on your face. 

"please, y/n. just one," you didn't exactly know if it was a lie. abby was convincing, able to break you down with her eyes, pleading and puppy-dog like. "please." 

you cave, leaning down to brush her hair back from her forehead and place a gentle kiss on the skin. with pursed lips, you whisper, "fine, but tomorrow night. i have to get some more." 

abby does nothing but smile, eyes fluttering closed. you stay with her for a bit like you always do--watching the way her chest rises and falls, and how her features twitched with slumber. features scarily similar to mike's. 

of course she'd look like mike. they were siblings, no shit, but the resemblance occupied your brain. there was sweet abby, with her colorful clothes and scribbled drawings and persuasive aura, and then there was mike. 

you shake your head, giving abby another kiss before exiting her room. you didn't need to think about mike. he wasn't what you were here for. you'd come to abby's school as an aide and after she'd privately confided in you about her home life, you knew you had to help her. you would do anything for her, even if that meant taking care of her while suppressing the overwhelming school girl crush you had on her older brother.

mike was a bit older than you, which didn't scare you at all. guys in their early 20s were rarely mature, doing anything they could just to fuck; but guys in their late 20s, mike specifically, had only ever shown you couth, surprisingly. 

for nearly two months, five mornings a week, the sound of the door being unlocked would ring out. you'd turn to see sunshine pouring into the living room, enveloping mike's brooding figure in a radiant golden glow.

he'd hang his coat on the wall hooks, drop his bag down to his feet, and give you a small but warm smile. you'd try to not to embarrass yourself as you two made small talk, packing up your things.

you always left unscathed, but recently it'd been hard. you were always thinking about him, dreaming about him even; how his hair would feel between your fingers, how his hands would feel on your face, how his face would feel between your thighs. 

the thought is washed away, drowned out by the sound effects of a loud infomercial when the door opens, and you're turning and squinting against the wash of pale yellow on your face. mike steps forward with a, "hey, y/n" and you meekly raise your hand to wave. 

he hangs his hoodie up to reveal his shoulder blades flexing under an uncharacteristically tight navy blue sweater. you can't help but stare.

"just wake up?" his voice is raspy, but he's still facing the wall, rummaging in his bag for something. 

"um...yeah. brain's still turning on," you lie, tossing the thick blue blanket off your body. you didn't sleep at all, kept up with your thoughts and the last of your Andes mints (though you loved her, you couldn't give abby your last ones).

"hm," he mutters, finally turning to you but keeping his hands behind his back. something crinkles in them and you raise your eyebrow at the tired yet amused expression he takes with you. it's enough to make your body hot and you awkwardly pull at the collar of your shirt, fanning yourself off.

"hot?" the gravelly tone sends you into a giggling fit, shaking your head as you shoot to your feet. you have to leave before you do or say something you regret. 

"uh, yeah, it was s-super hot under that...um...blanket. i shouldn't have worn sweatpants to s-sleep," you stutter, nodding your head along with mike as he steps closer to you. this couldn't be the moment something happens, right? it'd been so casual between you too, very friendly, and he'd never shown any signs of trying to do anything with you before. why would he choose right now, so spontaneously? 

he stands before you, the slightest bit taller than you. you're able to see every pore, every freckle, every microscopic detail in his eyes and lips.

you open your mouth, hoping your heart doesn't fall out, to ask what's happening, when he reveals a bag of Andes mints, one bigger than you've ever seen.

your mouth stays open in surprise. "wh-"

"abby's been talking about them. i wondered where she found out about them but--" he nudges his head towards the coffee table, where a small mound of green wrappers lay. you swear under your breath, cursing yourself for not throwing them away like you usually do. 

"i'm sorry," you whisper, blushing beyond measure as you begin to frantically pack your things. "i should be more careful with that stuff."

"god, y/n, you're saying it like it's coke," mike chuckles. he sets the bag down on the couch and reaches out to you, placing his hand on yours as you shove things into your tote. "hey." 

his voice forces you to stop and look up. you melt under his stare just like you do with abby. the puppy-dog thing must run in the family.

"i feel bad about not being able to pay you yet, and i really appreciate all you're doing. abby told me that you loved those mints, so..."

"thank you, mike," you say over the sound of your pounding heart. you didn't care about the money, you didn't need it. being appreciated by someone who made your heartbeat resonate throughout your body was payment enough. "this is really sweet." 

"thank you, y/n. you don't know how much this means to me." You scoff, throwing your tote over your shoulder and looking down at your feet. 

"i'm always happy to help." you and mike stand facing each other for what feels like hours, the air as thick as molasses between you. his eyes were squinted, low and dark and intriguing.

you wished you could read his mind. what was he thinking? did his heart do the same thing as yours, wacking against his ribcage with no end in sight? did he stay up thinking about you when he was supposed to be sleeping, imagining how you felt, what you sounded like, how you tasted---

"see you later tonight?" his voice rocks you out of your trance. he's not thinking about you. he's tired, wondering when you'll leave so he can fall into his bed and doze off. 

"yeah. tell abby i said i'll see her tonight." your smile is tight as you exit the house, cursing at yourself as you get into your car. 

you didn't know how long you could go on like this. 

ya, i know this sucks and it isn't really anything but we're gonna work our way through these fics and blurbs to really develop a cute relationship (,: i will still be writing other fics for mike, and possibly using another babysitter!reader in a different universe, but as for now, we're gonna be rocking with these two (: (thinking that we’ll label her as 🌱🍫!reader)  all notes are appreciated (: thanks for reading!

[socheckitout-mikey]

do u think u could do something where johnny and the reader aren't officially dating or anything but she keeps stealing and wearing his clothes, and the gang starts teasing them for it, which eventually leads to him actually asking her out? i'm sorry if this is too much or anything but thank you so much!!

ahhh this is so cute! idk how i missed this one. my apologies for taking so long writing it out. it came out waaay longer than i anticipated, but i hope you enjoy what i came up with. (': <33 - mae

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Title: The Shirt Thief

Pairing: Johnny Cade x reader

Summary: A cold night with Johnny Cade in the vacant lot brings you an unusual sense of warmth in the form of his denim jacket. What starts off with said jacket, causes you to end up with multiple articles of Johnny's clothes. It all seems harmless until the gang starts digging their noses into Johnny's business. Are you guys friends or are you more than that?

Word Count: 9,472

Disclaimer: THIS IS EDITED! I fixed the spelling mistakes and some of the grammatical errors. I also added a few new things to it, mainly in dialogue. I hope you like it though! :)

Warnings: Mentions of abuse in Johnny's home (with his parents), animals hunting and fighting, Soc's bullying the reader - vice versa, almost attempted assault, the gang coming to the rescue, rough housing with the gang (banter mainly) and a whole lot of sass! Johnny is somewhat ooc here because he's more talkative and sassy, but it's just how the piece came along! Let me know if I forgot anything else.

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  The story of our pesky shirt thief begins in the vacant lot under the sparkling night sky. This night was a relatively clear one in the cusp of autumn’s frost. The full moon was ample, a stunning silver glow that hypnotically danced, shrouded slightly from the wispy clouds sent onward by the chilly fall wind. Amber, golden and burnt brick red crumpled leaves tumbled noisily across the sandy dirt in a mini whirlwind. A toasty fire was being nurtured timidly upon the outskirts of this deserted place, courtesy of Johnny Cade. Underneath the jagged canopy of an almost bare tree, losing its wrinkled leaves, our greasy raven haired boy’s fingers quivered around the spindly stick in his hand. Gave an experimental poke to the half snapped branch swarmed by the smouldering, orange flames. He did not shiver from the cold, but from rampant nerves that pertained to someone he was particularly fond of being there beside him. That person being you.

  In a gloomy haze, stretched over sixteen years, the dependent vacant lot with all of its decaying junk left to rot had become his home away from home. It was somewhere he could come to in order to escape the harshness he had just down the street, riddled with its cluttered and intense violence. The one he had with his parents – if he could ever really call them that – had never been consumed with even an inkling of love or nurturing. It practically rotted away from the inside out with its creaky floorboards, dust riddled insides and the damp lining the walls like a thick winter scarf. A location where he was destined to be neglected in, for the only attention he obtained was to be hollered at by his mother when she was hacked off at whatever or whoever it was that particular time: Whereas his father brandished anything he could in hand to pelt him with. The thought made Johnny shudder, a sick nauseous feeling welling up inside of him. Slimy and cold.

  However, not all was lost. There had been some silver linings in teaching him things such as love, loyalty and camaraderie: His gang of reliable buddies that would stretch to the ends of the Earth for him were the culprits. Although they had nothing too, they gave him everything he’d been missing. Well, almost everything. They were the sole reason he had not run away about a million times by now. They grounded him, created a net of safety and support that he never would have experienced otherwise if he had not been born in this very downtrodden neighbourhood. Yet they could not save him from everything – a harsh reality he came face to face with daily. Nothing and no one could ever replace the lacking love of his parents.

  Nevertheless, the youthful greaser that looked as if he were a puppy that had been kicked one too many times had grown used to bumming around most nights on the busted leather car seat left to waste away in the lot. A frequent bed he now sat upon to gaze up at the glittering stars in the midnight haze of the dark sky. He pondered to himself, watching it while his most favourite person in the world sat off to his right. The silence between you both wasn’t awkward or uncomfortable. Just off experiencing your own inner worlds whilst you enjoyed the other’s presence. Johnny wasn’t much of a talker as is. You understood the chips he had on the table and didn’t mind in the slightest, but you had your ways of getting him talking.

  Despite the fact that he had a warmer and much more benevolent destination to crash at nightly: The Curtis House. He felt an immense pang of guilt and shame engulf him entirely at the thought of taking up that space. This house did not consume the same dreamy and abundant riches that one would desire at the core. Instead those fantasies were only destined for reality on the Wicked West Side of Tulsa, Oklahoma. “The home to the rich and greedy,” as Sodapop loved to put it.

  Although the Curtis House lacked in material volume, it oozed a charm in its bare necessities and rundown appearance, with its peeling papered walls and well played piano that needed a miracle of tuning. What it lacked when it came to standardised beauty was made up for by its glowing warmth of love, companionship and acceptance of all the inhabitants that nestled under its rickety roof. It was a safe haven for anyone needing a place to lay low to avoid getting into trouble that could be avoided; a.k.a trouble with the law. Dallas and Steve were also regular inhabitants of the well loved couch perched up against the wall by the front door of the home: A product of powerful tempers that needed quenching. They found solace on that old, brown cushiony hunk of junk just as Johnny did when the nights grew too cold or unbearable on his lonesome.

  Johnny stared up at Orion's Belt wondrously, remembering the time he'd heard Ponyboy rattle on about how he'd woken up to find the notorious Tim Shepard occupying his couch, reading the morning paper.

  'Now, what in the hell was someone like Tim Shepard doin' on the Curtis’ couch?' Johnny thought silently.

  Never had he bagged the likes of the eldest Shepard to reach out for a lifeline like that. It was almost unheard of, unfathomable. Tim was a handsome young man with a gnarly looking scar running from his temple to his chin. He was hard, cold and twisted. Jail, booze and all the criminal endeavours he had under his belt were like a morbid toolkit of how to be the best hoodlum out there. He looked about as capable of accepting charity as a lost soul in Hell. Then Johnny supposed that he never really knew him like Dally did. Johnny's silent disposition made it challenging for him to get close to anyone outside of his gang of buddies. Sometimes he preferred it this way, but usually he loathed it. Loneliness was easy in warping the soul of a good man.

  From what Dally had told him of Tim Shepard, it'd be an immense knock to his swelling pride to reach out for help and have everyone aware of it. Inflated prides and fragile egos didn't do wonders for people with big mouths. Hence why Johnny kept his damn trap shut about it after Pony had told him.

  'Man, he's gotta be pullin' my leg or somethin'.' He said internally before shaking his head.

  Expelling a breath, Johnny settled back into the leather seat as comfortably as possible. He swore he'd get a bad back after opting to take the lumpy side of the car bench with the springs gnawing their way through. It had been the gentlemanly thing to do after all. He was a good guy with a good heart.

  Warmth pervaded nicely from the reasonably sized fire he'd established in front of you both, but the chilly wind licked at any bare bits of skin daring to peer through tiny cracks in clothes. He hardly shivered outside of a nervous twitch. Perhaps that was only due to the fact he'd grown accustomed to the elements no matter the weather – unlike yourself.

  Instead his charcoal eyes were doe-like, shakily flickering to his right where you sat. Only then in this moment did he fully come to the present moment, understanding the cold bit at your nose, ears and fingers in a way that looked cute. Yet despite your shivering that you so desperately attempted to hide, you sat there in all of your beautiful glory with only a few inches of space between you both. A comfortability you bathed in that seemed so raw, as if you were merely sitting on your living room couch with both of your knees and feet tucked under you and just off to the side. Peace prevailed from the tender smile gracing your features. A subconscious practice, you definitely seemed to be lost in your own thoughts. Johnny stared at you, and wondered what kind of movie was flashing behind those pretty eyes to have the sun dawn across your face like that. To him, all he could see was the vacant lot – a desolate place where only hoodlums would hang in droves, drawn in by its trashy grounds.

  "You starin' cuz I got somethin' on my mug or it's just that ugly?" You grinned like a chessy cat, turning to look him directly in the eye. Thinking that being a wise cracker was funny.

  Damn you and your perceptiveness.

  Instantaneously Johnny ripped his gaze from yours, stiff as a plank. Embarrassment dashed across every cell in his body and left his lungs flat of oxygen. Man, if he thought his usual heartbeat was fast, what was happening inside of his chest right then must have been the speed of goddamn light!

  All he could do was stammer out, "U-u-uh n-n-neither!" The poor guy sounded like Porky The Pig. 

  Your eyelids fluttered in astonishment at the stuttering mess of a young man he was. So jumpy. A mouse scuttling around on sharp eggshells. Part of you would've felt proud of your handiwork if it had been anyone else, but it was Johnny, your best friend. "Awe shucks, Johnny-cake," you offered him sheepishly, "I didn't tell you to stop. I was just messin' with ya. Gotta keep you on your toes somehow."

  Messing with him? That was evident. He wasn't cross with you for pulling on his leg, just bothered by himself for getting caught out in the act. "S'okay, I g-get it." He shrugged, trying to play it cool whilst he stared into the portal to the Underworld.

  "Penny for your thoughts?" You tried again, bumping him softly with your shoulder.

  "Nothin' much," He lied smoothly, picking at the hole in his tennis shoe.

  "You sure you ain't developin' the cure for cancer or somethin'? You're pretty smart." You inquired with a cheeky beam.

  "Shoot! Do I look like I know what two plus two equals?" Johnny was getting a little bit sassy.

  "Okay okay, I get it. I'll back off." You chortled.

  'Yeah, thank goodness for that…' Johnny thought to himself. Suddenly he was uneasy with the idea of you ever discovering his little moments of staring at you because he loved the way you looked in candid moments like this one just passed. How did one go about saying these kinds of things? Johnny didn't know a lick. He was a dejected lost cause in the romance department. An awkward bump on a log. Felt he looked cruddy right about now too so he scratched the back of his head fervently for a second. No one really gave him a second glance. He was invisible and too quiet to be noticed.

  Yet he failed to realise that you noticed him.

  His forlorn expression had been obscured by his shaggy bangs that hung on his forehead. In fact, they no longer existed. You watched him struggle with something akin to wrestling a twenty foot gator inside of that skull of his. It made you feel funny on the inside, as if you were to blame. Diligently Johnny picked up the jagged stick he'd used to poke the flames with earlier. Started drawing in the dusty cold dirt at his feet. Back and forth, left and right, then round and round. A tedious therapeutic cycle.

  'Yup, he's off to the moon again.' You thought. 'I'll give him a sec to recoup. I think I made him short circuit a little too hard.' 

  Just then the bleakness of the night pressed its breathy lips against you. You shivered in response, huddling unconsciously to Johnny for his radiator heat. Part of him was shaking too. The flames jolted haphazardly. A violent twirl of dead leaves kicked up into the air before the wind relented altogether and they fluttered into the fire that engulfed them. It was a beautiful sight indeed, albeit destructive. The elements typically were unforgiving. That was the cycle of life. Mother Nature worked in wondrous ways that went beyond the mere perception of the human mind. Ever evolving and always there. It had put a smile on your face, and Johnny looked at you once more.

  "Now, you wanna give me a penny for your thoughts?" He asked.

  You slowly turned to look at him, your smile unwavering, "And cash in my trade secrets when you won't give me yours? That don't tally up to me."

  Johnny shrugged, trying to hide a ghost of a smile on his features, "You just caught me off guard that's all…"

  "Oooooh so I got the element of surprise on my side?" You wiggled your eyebrows. "Who knew I was mighty smooth!"

  Johnny rolled his charcoal eyes, shook his head with a laugh, "Don't get too big headed now," he warned.

  "Why, cuz I'll float away?" 

  "Naw," Johnny shook his head, "You sound like Two-bit."

  Your countenance fell from grace then; all of the humour drained completely, replaced with a sulk. "Now you just went and ruined it."

  Johnny laughed heartily, "I dunno why you got it against him, yn. It was only fifth grade-," 

  "Don't remind me of fifth grade! He put gum in my hair and you saw it." You warned with a finger pointed at him. “I looked like a coconut headed bum for two years, Johnny Cade! Two years I ain’t ever gonna get back.”

  "Alright, alright! Don't shoot." He mumbled with a half smirk on his face.

  "And don't laugh either. Who's side are you on anyway?" You mumbled with your arms folded over your chest.

  Johnny met his match in attempting to swallow the laughter down, "Who knew you were this much of a sore loser," with a shake of his head.

  "Sore loser my ass…" You retorted, looking off to the side like a petulant child.

  All Johnny could do was laugh.

  The sourness of your mood forced you to realise the lateness of the night. The cold showed its first signs of frost that danced mistily away from the firelight. You quivered fully this time, rubbing your nimble hands up and down your arms. "Are you cold?" Johnny finally had the courage to ask.

  "Uh-huh! But I'll be okay."

  "You know you don't have to tough it out for me, right?" Johnny said sincerely. "You shoulda brought a coat. It's November not August."

  "I forgot, mom." You mumbled wryly.

  "Man, don't call me that. It sounds strange." He pulled a face as he spoke.

  "And why not?" You demanded. 

  "Cuz you sound like T-," He began, but you cut him off.

  "Don't even think about saying that name!"

  Despite himself, Johnny was laughing something awful. A grin spread across his face akin to a mixture of pride and victory. He'd bested you in the end and even you knew it. "You asshole-," You muttered, but it all bled through into your own sense of laughter that mingled with his. 

  Then it seemed to die down, a comfortable glow encasing you both. In the midst of it you hardly realised Johnny shimmying beside you – too caught up in the afterglow. But then an uncanny warmth of freshly worn denim was draped over your shoulders. Ghosts of fingertips touched the nape of your neck as it was laid there. Your head turned to find Johnny retracting his hands shyly and passing it off without a word. The gesture touched you, made you feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

  "Why?" Your better judgement couldn't stop the question from flying out of your mouth.

  Johnny squirmed uncomfortably under your focused stare, "I dunno…" he shrugged. "You were cold and didn't have a jacket. It was the right thing to do I guess."

  The right thing to do. It made you beam beautifully then. Johnny Cade was always doing the right thing. Well, maybe not all the time when he was with his buddies, but usually he did. A good guy with a good heart that made yours flutter at the touch. The act of giving you his most prized possession really touched you in ways that made your eyes begin to water. You needed a second to blink them back. Hoping he hadn't noticed. Luckily he hadn't. 

  You thanked him in the only way you knew how to, by leaning your head on his shoulder. He stiffened to the touch, unfamiliar with it. Johnny wasn't much of a hugger, so physical contact was reserved for special moments. He allowed it this time and you felt his body shake, unsure with what to do with himself. Your fingers wrapped around his bicep, a reassuring squeeze so light it helped him realise you weren't going to hurt him. You never could. He was too special, too gentle, but wild in his own way when he let himself out freely. Yet the person he was now, the boy that gave you his jacket and talked with you the most; that was your Johnny Cade.

  "Thank you, Johnny-cake." You whispered into the air, gently holding his hand and squeezing softly. It was sweaty.

  "D-don't mention it." He swallowed, giving you an experimental squeeze back. "It's just my jacket, softie."

  "Who you callin' softie?" You look up at him with a cocked eyebrow.

  "You."

  Silence befell you, and it was laced in a tranquil dose. Hushed whispers reverberated off of the caverns in your hearts, growing more prominent. All the giggles filled with the springy frolicking of baby lambs. Clumsy and endearing. Johnny lit a fire in you unmatched and vice versa. Young love that was mutual, but unknown to the other. You stayed with him for quite some time, until he walked you home. You'd sent him off with a wave after him shyly telling you to keep it. Made him promise not to sleep out in the cold, and Johnny kept his word. Slunk all the way to the Curtis House three hours before sunup to fortunately find it free. Rest was his, all with a smile screwed on tightly to his features.

  Many more instances of thievery occurred with your pesky little fingers and the growing feelings that possessed you like a restless spirit. Time spent with Johnny became your drug of choice, and you could not get enough of him. No funny business was happening, it was just your personalities melding well together. You brought out a sassy part to him, and surprisingly he could keep up with you. Each meeting was set in colder conditions than the last. Forcing Johnny to bring in what little reinforcements he had. You either seemed to forget a jacket or your layers weren't nearly enough. His jacket was a chameleon's skin, bouncing from his shoulders to yours. His shirts were a comforting reminder of him when he wasn't around – shields against the bleakness of winter. His grey sweatshirt was your favourite. Everything began to accumulate. 

  One day you were both coming from the tracks in the Shepard outfit where a little creek was running through another vacant lot by an old abandoned factory. The water was still frozen and the trees were barren. All sorts of junk stuck to the frosty ground. It was kind of niche-like, a quiet place that seemed abandoned when the sun shone its rays upon Tulsa. It had been an accidental find during a summer day the year before. A superb place to explore when things were warmer and less soggy. Though it was apparent that neither of you had the courage to explore the dangerous insides of the abandoned warehouse in its entirety. Anyone could be lurking there, boobietrapped the innards to protect their stashed hoards. So the pair of you stuck to the outskirts towards the vacant lot beside it.

  There you both were, sat upon a crumpled wall, admiring a winter's afternoon like a pair of Humpty Dumpty’s. The sun was bright in the sky, threatening to melt the world entirely. The first inklings of spring graced reality. The robins were chirping, hopping around in search of food nearby. Adorable feathered critters, so fluffy. They reminded Johnny of Christmas as one turned its neck beside him, curiously looking up into his black eyes. Both were inquisitive of the other.

  "He looks like you-," your half whisper broke out into the air too loudly. The disturbance made the robin jolt and fly off.

  Johnny sighed, "Man, he got so close this time. You just had to go and ruin it didn't you?"

  "I'm sorry. Was there a spiritual connection happening? How rude of me!" You gasped with a hand over your heart.

  He shook his head, grinning because he wasn't angry about it at all. "He was a cute little guy though…"

  "Hence why I said he looked like you." You clarified.

  Johnny exploded with a blush, shaking his head again, "You must've hit your head when you fell on the ice earlier."

  "My head is not any worse off than it was before, thank you very much!" You defended yourself.

  "You know, the first sign of someone tellin’ porkies is denial, right?"

  "I am not tellin’ porkies!"

  "Are too-," Johnny countered, nudging you with his elbow.

  "Am not!"

  Falling back into that effortless banter made you both grin like chessy cats. It was silly, but very much needed. You knew Johnny got extra embarrassed whenever you'd start complimenting him, especially in the looks department. You didn't say these things just to throw him off, but because you truly meant them. Johnny was cute. One of the cutest guys you'd seen in a longtime. Maybe he wasn't moviestar handsome like Sodapop, but girls were missing out when they overlooked him. He had his own things to bring to the table; loyalty, kindness, abiding the law… Just to name a few. You suddenly shook these thoughts out of your head, deciding if you went too deeply down this path that it was best not to be done in Johnny’s presence. Lest you were to blabber about it like you'd done to your other friends who'd told you to ask him out already. They just didn't understand how delicate the matter was really. Johnny wouldn't say yes anyway.

  "Hey look! Those cats are back," Johnny quietly hissed by your side, pulling you out of your daze.

  You followed his line of sight and sure enough the two male felines were there. Lithe in nature and mean looking. A skinny orange tabby trotted forward, a snaggle tooth protruding from his mouth. By his side was his black Bombay counterpart, scraggy bodied with dirty fur and a distinct chip taken from his ear. They were silent, far from their former glory days when they knew what a good home was. The Bombay was a little bigger than his cheddar companion, and it was easily understood by any human looking in that a pact had been formed between them through a necessity to survive. The pair of you had spied them before, a distrusting set that initially hissed and growled. They were all claws and teeth so you kept your distance to avoid any surprise visits to the clinic. However now they seemed to tolerate your presence, acting as if the silence you exuded exempted your existence. Johnny and you admired them, goofy grins on your faces, because the cats were ready to commit their timely crime of hunting for some grub of the day. You knew who they reminded you of.

  "Well if that ain't Dally and Tim," You consciously made the effort to whisper.

  Johnny nodded in agreement, "Yeah, I can see it."

  "Which one's which?" You asked, genuinely curious about Johnny's take.

  He was reluctant to take his eyes off the cats, watching them begin prowling forth towards an unsuspecting robin. "Huh?" he hummed, finally looking at you just as you leaned your head on his shoulder.

  "Which cat is Dally and which one is Tim? You know 'em better than I do." You pressed softly.

  "Oh, that's easy, Dally's the ginger tabby and Tim's the Bombay." He offered with a nod of his head in the felines direction.

  "What why?" You demanded it up at him.

  “Well if we’re goin’ off their looks for a start, Tim looks like the Bombay cat. Guy is a real alley cat – got a lot of street smarts and carries himself well. Besides, he's tougher than a bag of nails.” Johnny did have a point – Tim looked just like that black cat with his curly jet hair.

  Speaking of the black cat, it had entered a state of hunting, kneeling down with coiled taught muscles – just ready to pounce on that unsuspecting robin below, pecking at the seeds you and Johnny had left behind earlier. You hoped it wouldn’t be eaten, couldn’t stomach to see something so savage. However, you supposed that was only the way the circle of life worked.

  “The orange tabby’s Dally cuz of that cool look in his eyes. The way he carries himself so freely. Out of the two, the tabby’s the one that’s in charge somehow. He writes the rules that the other cat’s always tryna best.” Johnny offered with a brief shrug before continuing, “Not that the black cat is following any rules. Both have minds of their own.”

  Boy, you could really hear the way he admired Dallas Winston from the way he spoke about the orange tabby. It was wholesome. Dally was Johnny’s hero — the kid practically worshipped the ground the guy walked on. You didn’t see why. To you, Dallas Winston was a rotten hoodlum with a track record of breaking the law in every way, shape and form that he could. He frightened you like The Boogeyman had when you were nine. Where you both engaged with each other somewhat cordially, you preferred to keep your distance. You supposed that you had no room to judge after all. There was a deep friendship that had developed between him and Johnny; you’d seen it in Dally’s cold hard eyes… affection. It made you grin then, wondering if Johnny thought strangely of your heroes too.

  “And both of them are jackasses.” You countered, bumping his shoulder mischievously.

  Johnny laughed a little, looking at you for a few short moments. “Yeah alright, I’ll give you that.”

  You liked the way he’d described the two though. It was a statement that fit the pair of hoodlums in a peapod together. Yet the orange tabby did appear to be the leader as it licked its wonky chops delectably. Inched closer by the second, a silent assassin to carry out its hunter gatherer lifestyle. It was intelligent, mimicking the movement of the robin that had caught onto it. It lured the bird on a swift and winding course, swiping for it good and hard but missed. Never mind. The robin fluttered up and into the line of sight of the black cat, a moment of fear in its beady eyes. Yet just as the night-like feline swept its razors at it, the robin burst into the air and flew off in the opposite direction. It had missed its meal by a feathers length. Every other robin in the vicinity flew off instantly, leaving the two cats dumbfounded.

  In frustration, the orange tabby yowled and darted forth. Its clawed paw zipped out and popped the mouth of the black cat. The black cat hissed, stunned for a mere second before it lunged for the only comrade it had in this god forsaken world. The two tumbled together in an infuriated Halloween special of blurred fur. A gasp floated from your mouth as they rolled back and forth. A genuine cat fight unheard of. They sounded like two ghouls trying to out spook the other – alien and loud.

  Johnny couldn’t help but laugh out of nervousness. He wasn’t trying to be cruel whatsoever. Didn’t like to see animals fighting and hurting each other, but it humoured some sick part of him. “Just like Dally and Tim, huh? Buddies one minute then at each other’s throats the next.”

  “Amen to that.” You found the humour of the situation, only because it was too similar to the real life hoodlums you both knew.

  You’d seen your fair share of those guys beefing it out in the past together in The Dingo parking lot, let alone practically in your own backyard. They were a strange duo – too competitive and cut from the same cloth. They’d never find another person just like them, that was for sure.

  Just then an icy gust came throttling through the area, reminding you both that it was still winter. A tremor ran through the pair of you, and you huddled together for warmth. By now the cats had slumped off to their own corners of the lot, hissing and growling as they went. Sore egos and bodies made them sulk and mewl in the shade whilst they licked their wounds.

  “Dammit-,” your teeth chattered, moving closer to Johnny. “March my ass…”

  Johnny breathed a laugh, shaking his head. He scanned your features humorously, those bushy brows hidden by a thick blanket of his black greasy bangs that flopped onto his forehead.

  “What?” You mumbled, your fingertips unconsciously reached for him in the space between you both. Johnny didn’t notice.

  He stared at you for a good three seconds before opening his mouth to speak, “How can you be cold with all those layers you got on?”

  “Well I mean it’s obvious, it’s winter.”

  “Uh-huh-,” Johnny sassed, smirking slightly, “As if you ain’t wearin’ my shirt, my sweater and my jeans jacket too. Got the whole department store on your back.”

  Abashment took hold of you as your gaze dropped down to inspect yourself. There was Johnny’s jacket on you, and underneath his tattered grey sweater, that black t-shirt poking up above the collar. And Johnny? He was adorned in a wrinkled white shirt with a blue and creamy egg yellow flannel over the top you guessed was one of the gang’s. Worn over that was Dally’s brown leather jacket with the cosy sheepskin lining. You pouted with a bruised ego, looking off to the side, “It’s not like you’re naked or nothin’…” you murmured petulantly.

  Johnny chuckled breathily, your joined hands jostling as he tugged on it without any semblance of awareness, as if to gain your attention. “Not yet, but I’m gonna be! Man, do you know what I had to say to get this jacket from Dally?” He was teasing you.

  “Mmmppppffff…” you grunted, crossing your legs on that wall.

  “The guys are askin’ questions and I dunno what to tell ‘em any more!” His voice broke a bit before he continued, “Two thinks I’m preparin' to run down the centre of town butt naked!”

  That made you burst out into fits of giggles. The thought was so unorthodox it was hilarious. “You’re tellin’ him that’s the truth right? God, could you imagine? I can see the news articles now: Johnny Cade, Teenage Delinquent Gone Buck Wild!” You beamed, throwing your free hand out to elaborate some unseen picture.

  Johnny shook his head again, laughing with you, “Man, you’re just as bad as Soda!”

  “I’m twice as good looking too!” You offered with all the cheekiness you could muster.

  All he could offer was an entertained roll of his eyes. Your shoulders bumped together, old comrades turned into something more. His soft gaze fell onto your interwoven fingers, and his heart fluttered like dove wings. A widened gaze, then that notorious blush exploded under that tanned flesh. His mind was incapable of functioning. It was wholesome, but you read everything wrong. Made a move to release his hand and he stopped you.

  "Don't." It was the strongest word you'd heard from him as he held your hand tighter than he ever had before. Not enough to hurt you, but to let you know it was real too.

  "Y-you sure?" It was your turn to stutter.

  The look he shared with you may have been wavering to some degree, but there was certainty in those eyes. His mouth opened to speak, "Yeah, I don't mind one bit."

   I don't mind one bit. It ran round and round in your head. A starstruck expression invaded your beautiful countenance. The reassurance was a bonus that made your belly fill with a plethora of butterflies. Cloud nine had nothing on this moment.

  Johnny explored the expressions flitting across your face with a newfound sense of wonder. That pleasant delight racing through you was infectious as you stared off into the junk riddled vacant lot, your mind preoccupied with his hand in yours. The sun dawned across your features once again, like that autumn night you'd spent with him in your neighbourhood's vacant lot. The understanding that he was the source of that made his belly squirm, a giddiness overcoming him. He could no longer deny the fondness he had for you so blatantly.

  With him leaning a little closer to you, he whispered, "How about you give me at least some of my stuff back?" 

  "Mmmmm maybe,"

  "yn-," there was an uncommon sense of sternness in his voice.

  "But-," You tried objecting.

  "No buts-," he rushed out with a shake of his head, "At least give me one! I've been wearing this shirt for three days now!" He was hilariously incredulous.

  "Is that why you stink?" You taunted him.

  "Not funny-," He made his best attempt to be cross with you.

  "Okay, okay! I'll give them back." You said begrudgingly.

  "You better bring the cavalry with how much you have stolen from me, you little shirt thief."

  "In my defence, you did give them to me… But I'll have them for you next time I see you, scouts honour!" You spoke sincerely with your free hand held dramatically over your heart.

  "Uh-huh, that's what you said last time and I still didn't get 'em back." He bantered.

  "Well, that wasn't a real scout's honour." You admitted with a diffident rub to the back of your head.

  "yn-," he shook his head.

  "Hey! I'm serious this time."

  "Good…" He trailed off, his other hand beginning to play with the rings banded around your fingers absentmindedly.

  Blissfulness carried upon the wind, a promise of returning what wasn't yours already settled. Golden light broke through the clouds, catching Johnny in the face directly, which made him grimace evidently. You grew lost in his handsome physique, feeling the pad of his thumb drag up and down the back of your hand. The sensation was special, because Johnny had warmed up to you so much.

  It was a lively Saturday night, and with the determined honour of a scout member, you showed up like clockwork with a bag filled with Johnny's things. It was just as the crowds at The Nightly Double encroached upon the Tulsa streets in boisterous droves. Everyone was high on the giddy delight of the movie they had just watched – the late night viewing of two specials before the drive-in closed its doors for the night. Previous arrangements with another friend had you missing out on the fun, but here you were wearing your very own leather jacket with Johnny's denim one bunched up nervously in the palms of your hands. Speaking of Johnny, he had tagged along with the gang – minus Darry, because movies seemed to bore the older man to death.

  A pair of scrawny looking Socy guys stalked out of the front doors, acting like big shots, cutting in front of a dark green Corvair on its way out and into the oncoming traffic. The driver of the same social class hung out of the driver's window whilst his girl attempted to pull him back in.

  "Hey watch it, wise guys! If you're lookin' to get your asses run over, then be my guests and step back in my line of sight!" He snarled aggressively before his girlfriend won the battle and pulled him back inside to tell him to "knock it off".

  A line began to form behind them as the couple argued incessantly, presumably over the guy's foul temper. Car horns honked on the spring breeze, forcing the guy to nervously step on the gas. They almost crashed into a Chevy Impala before zipping off home. You could see the animated scowl of the girl refusing to talk to her boyfriend in the side view mirror as they retreated. She glowered at you as if you were the scum of the earth. It didn't make you feel too hot.

  The two wisecracking Soc's cackled at their attempts at being hard, stalking forth when they caught sight of your lonesome form. Vile cackles were shot your way as they walked past you before deciding the better option was to encircle you like a couple of hammerhead sharks.

  'Boy, these dingbats don't know what tree they're barking up.' You thought, stiffening your body up for any form of unexpected physical contact. You weren't gonna let yourself get blown over that easy. 

  "What's up, greaser? You lookin' to bum around on our streets?" The six foot tall pencil with the sour breath sneered down at you, bumping your shoulder, making a come around to your left. When he disappeared behind you, the other one with chestnut hair the texture of straw invaded your face.

  "Yeah, who said you were allowed round these parts anyway?" He jeered, smacking his gum obnoxiously.

  Typically these dorks wouldn't have been graced with so much of your attention, but being on your own with a whole sea of onlookers made you weary. However you sure didn't show it. No one was there to stand up for you so you had to do it yourself. All you could do was raise your eyebrows, feeling the burning sense of humiliation rise from the pits of hell beneath your feet. It felt toasty, but the wrong kind. A glower of pure vexation was sent up their way. 'Who are these cocky jackasses, anyway? I've got the same right to use these streets like anyone else!' You contemplated.

  "Oh really? I never knew white trash chequerboards like yourselves owned the streets everybody walks on." Your lips flapped wryly before you could even say a word.

  The entertained gazes of onlookers of every social class stopped to stare. Murmurs of speculation broke out: Two against one didn't typically seem like a fair fight, but with the sheer scrawniness of the socially elite, it seemed to look like the chips fell in your favour. Though you knew appearances could be deceiving, harbouring a surprising sense of physical strength.

  In a rift of the crowd, six pairs of familiar eyes honed in on your shining moment of unprovoked confrontation.

  "White trash chequerboards?!" The pencil growled out, sharing a glance with his straw haired counterpart. For the most part they were dumbfounded, not having expected you to stand up for yourself.

  "If anyone's white trash, it's you, greaseball." The second one jutted his finger in your face.

  Nothing about your countenance betrayed you. Cold and detached you stared at that finger in your face with a deep sense of boredom. Then an almost smug smirk etched your features as you stared up into his grey eyes.

  "Oh my, my!" A dripping sense of mocking venom entered your tone. "Seems like I got more class than that finger you got pointed at me. Seriously, you got a licence to be armed with carryin' that thing? You better watch what you do with it before it falls into the wrong hands. You know, because with great power comes great responsibility and all." You were armed with so much sass it made you invincible.

  The crowd surrounding you burst into a fit of laughter so potent that it burnt these punks into a startled pile of ash. The pair of Soc's were so vapid that they were a bore even to themselves, which is why they were acting out as if they were five times their sizes. You were lively, armed with a silver tongue that could slice just about anyone to pieces who tried to humiliate you.

  "Oh yeah, you little punk?" The first one growled, invading all sense of your personal space.

  You took one step back, your eyebrows raised, "It's his responsibility, not mine. Whatch'yu gettin' all riled up for, eh? Can't take a joke, Mister Funny?"

  "I'll show you a joke when I knock your two front teeth out." He barked.

  Oooh's and aaah's broke through the crowd on a symphony of guffawing. You cocked one eyebrow up at him, a cockiness overcoming you. What could you do otherwise? If no one had your back, you had to have your own. That was just the way the cookie crumbled when you were a greaser – if there was a cookie at all.

  "Oooooh~ Don't threaten me with a good time, pencil dick." You snorted. "I will bend your ass like a goddamn pretzel before you can even have a chance to beg for your mommy to save you."

  The two guys shared a look, the degradation burning their senses of pride to withering embers. Their faces were pinkened beyond recognition, boarding on a fiery red. Your insults only poured gasoline on the fires. They couldn't back out now with the engrossed mass around the three of you. Your body stiffened as they went to grab you, preparing yourself for a fight that would no doubt cause the fuzz to come shutting it down. The image of yourself being cuffed in the back of a cop car had you overcome with a sense of terror. You weren't made for jail with your sharp tongue and sass. Wouldn't last two seconds flat in a grim place like that.

  Before any contact could occur, a boisterous New York accent throttled into the air, a familiar arm slinking over your shoulders, "Hey Dumb and Dumber, you really wanna go gettin' your asses handed to you by a girl in front of all of these people?" Dallas was snickering with a smoke hanging out of his mouth, leaning against you smoothly as he patted your upper arm, but he wasn't your only saviour.

  The other five lean and hard looking members of the Curtis gang had rolled up in all of their greasy headed glory. Pony and Johnny were Dally's flanks whilst Sodapop and Steve jammed themselves on either side of the pathetic turkeys that had bothered you. Two-bit prowled like a cat, that smug, wild grin carved onto his handsome features. The oldest of the six came in the centre of the perpetrators, an arm slung on each of their shoulders. It was overly friendly, even for Two.

  "Well, well, well, if it ain't the socially elite barking up a tree they didn't know was a mountain! I'd get your eyes checked if I were you." He laughed, squeezing them together under his impressive arms. The others joined in.

  "I think it's time these tuff lookin' sons of bitches got in the ring with the big shots." Steve yipped sarcastically, clapping the straw haired guy on the back a little too roughly.

  "Lookin' like a bunch of heavyweight champs, am I right?" Soda leered, his once kind blue eyes filled with a mischievous malice.

  The two Soc's looked at each other, realising they'd made a mistake in targeting you. "We don't want any trouble." The first one said, fumbling.

  "Yeah! We was only just jokin' around." The other made a pitiful attempt at joining in on the laughter.

  "Oh really now?" Dally quipped through dragon's breath, plucking his smoke from his lips and wiping the back of his index finger under his nose like he was annoyed. "I call bullshit, beanpole. Ain't that right, Johnny?" Dally asked Johnny, motioning towards him.

  With a black gaze as cold as obsidian, Johnny nodded his head, "Sure thing, Dally." He refused to take his gaze off of the perpetrators who recognised that hoodlum's menacing name anywhere.

  "Pony?" Dally turned, looking over your head at the fourteen year old greaser with the greyish green eyes. He put that smoke back in between his lips and inhaled sharply.

  "Yup!" Pony popped the 'p' at the end of the word.

  "Great, it's settled!" Dally exclaimed, pulling his arm from over your shoulders and rubbing his hands together like a fly with an evil plan. He stepped forward, his face a mere couple of inches from theirs. "You dumbasses get to go toe to toe with me for fucking with the wrong person, and then my buddies will have what's left of you. How do you like the sound of that?" 

  The way Dally seethed it even had you shaking in your boots. There was almost a sense of honour riding on your guts. It wasn't everyday that Dallas Winston was standing up for you, but when it happened you took it willingly. The two guys had become pale ghosts, shuddering with sweat dewing their foreheads. Dally meant those words, but it seemed he was mainly toying with them. So were the rest of the gang too. With matching Cheshire grins plastered on their faces they watched as the two shoved past Soda, tripping over the boot Johnny had stuck out and shot in through an opening in the crowd to salvation. Sent to faceplant on the ground with a series of laughter as the drama seemed to be over for the most part and people lost interest.

  "Where are you goin'? Wait until we set her on ya!" Sodapop called, wrapping his arm around Steve's shoulders. 

  "Yeah, she may seem like she’s all bark, but she's got one hell of a bite!" Steve cackled.

  Lost in an ocean of chaos, Johnny's inquiry of concern for you slithered back down his throat. He bled into the background, admiring the way your eyes rolled as the wisecracking descended upon you.

  "The hell was that, kid?" Dally said between inhaling his smoke. Rubbing the top of your head with his ringed fingers awarded him with a generous shove from you. His treatment hurt, but he was happy to see you, which was unusual.

  "Get offa me-," You grunted and he eventually relented.

  Before Steve could chime in about you being a smart ass or wandering around on your lonesome, your most dreaded member of the gang came blundering on over. A half drunken stupor holding him up by some invisible string, "Haha! Where did you learn to talk like that? Dare I say you got some inspiration from somebody in particular?" He waggled his eyebrows at you.

  "Oh, well ain't those the biggest words you’ve ever said! Ugh, don’t make me sick, two cents." You bit at him.

  "Eh, at least I'm worth somethin' in this world." He chuckled, clapping your shoulder.

  "That was meant to be an insult." You retorted.

  "Really? That's a whole compliment and a half!" He exclaimed with his arms thrown up.

  "Yeah yn, I sure can hear the church bells ringin' right now!" Soda grinned at you, cupping his free hand over his ear. In fact, to seal the deal he wrapped his arm around your shoulders as the seven of you began walking to your neighbourhood.

  Steve came up on the other side, walking the tight line of the curb, "From haters to lovers!" He beamed, spreading his palms out in the open space before you like he was presenting a far away picture. "It all started when you were in fifth grade and he was in sixth, gum to the hair, a pop to the mouth and the rest was history!"

  Johnny listened and observed, laughing halfheartedly along with his buddies. Something about Soda's and Steve's words tugged on his heartstrings in a plucking fashion. It was uncomfortable and didn't sit right with him. Yet he couldn't be too mopey about it, it wasn't like anybody knew his growing feelings for you. By now there was a confusion in your friendship, as if all these special moments you'd experienced together had evolved the friendship into something else. He was afraid of what that meant. Things would never be the same ever again, and he found himself eyeing up the bag full of his clothes on your shoulder and his jeans jacket wadded into your hand.

  Well, at least your promise had been genuine this time.

  If you weren't riled up before you were now. A sucker punch to the gut was minutely dodged by Steve, who hopped to safety behind Dallas like a kangaroo. Being surrounded by people you knew was nice as the mood settled somewhat. Johnny found his natural place to the left of you, keeping in time with your easy pace.

  Sodapop raised his eyebrows and asked the question everyone had been wondering, "Hey yn, what were you doing there all alone?"

  "Ain't that Steve's line?" You quipped.

  “Gettin’ to be more and more like Ponyboy everyday, yn!” Steve warned, messing up Pony’s hair for comedic relief.

  Pony was certainly not pleased, pulling his comb out of his back pocket and using the sideview mirror of a car to fix his hair in the dark. “Stupid Steve…” grumbled past his lips.

  “What was that?” Steve barked next to Soda.

  “Nothin’, said I looked stupid…” He lied with burnt cheeks and ears to match.

  "That's what I thought, little guy." Steve stared at him.

  Once the commotion had somewhat settled Dally eyed you up and spoke through his smoke, “Soda’s got a point. What were you doing there?” He noticed that bag over your shoulder and whistled, “Did your goody two shoes ass get kicked out or are you just droppin’ by to bid your farewells on us common folk before you skip town?”

  Put on the spot, you hesitated for a second, “Uh, I just came to see Johnny.”

  “With the entire mall's inventory?” Two grinned wickedly, pressing for more information. "Johnny's become quite the charity case lately." He teased, noogying Johnny playfully who shrugged him off with a small laugh.

  “Hey wait a sec, isn't that Johnny’s jeans jacket?” Pony spoke up once his precious hair had been rearranged.

  Dallas’s pesky fingers swiped the jacket in your hands with a mind of his own – and like a chimp, he examined its authentication closely. The five other members gathered around him as if he held the fifth wonder, which left you and Johnny with the liberation of simultaneously backing up at the edges of the throng. “You wanna make a break for it?” You hissed your suggestion at Johnny, who nodded his head.

  That’s when five heads whipped up with dumbfounded expressions. This was Johnny’s jacket! The one he said he’d lost. Soda’s eyes were the first to eye up that bag strapped to your shoulder, a familiar grey sweater poking out through the zipper that wouldn't close properly. “Hold on one stinkin’ minute.” Realisation hit him with a dopey grin.

  Two caught on next, his hand grasping the bag strap and pulling it from your shoulder. In the same motion he’d freed the grey sweater from the confines, only to find more clothes underneath. “Haha!” He cackled noisily, “You’re the one who’s been swiping his clothes? You sly fox!”

  “Johnny and yn sitting in a tree-,” Steve cackled, only to get cut off by Dally who smacked him in the chest.

  “What are you man, four?”

  “Four?! I’ll show you four!”

  “Oh glory-,” You mumbled, looking at Johnny, “I think I made a mistake.”

  “You think?” He hissed, his tone was somewhat biting, looking scared stiff for the incoming of terrible teasing.

  "Johnny's got a girlfriend! Johnny's got a girlfriend!" Soda and Two started chanting, patting and shaking their pal with enthusiasm. It wasn't long before the other three started in on it too. The chant of the year belted out from strong chests on shrill wails of hyena laughter.

  "Check him out, famous ladies man! I knew you had it in ya Johnny." Dally clapped his back.

  "Should've known you were stealing my girl, Johnny." Two teased. "You can have her the first five days of the week, but I call dibs on weekends! That's when she gets extra sassy."

  "In your dreams, two shits." You barked.

  "I dream of sixth grade every night!" Two swooned, making you laugh.

  Johnny was as red as a beet, even Ponyboy couldn’t contain his laughter. 'Boy, do we have something to tell Darry!' Pony's and Soda's eyes gleamed dazzlingly.

  "Eh, guess you won't be needing this!" Dally grinned from behind you both, softly tugging on his leather jacket Johnny was wearing. In one fell swoop it was off of his shoulders and draped over Dally’s humble forearm.

  “Here you go, young sire!” Sodapop bowed with a roll of his hand, an English accent flawlessly executed.

   In came Steve on one knee, holding up the humble denim article he'd swiped from Dally's pesky digits. “Oh Johnny, with all of my love for you, will you take this humble offer?” he exclaimed dramatically.

  Johnny snatched the jacket from Steve’s gripey hands, along with the bag of his shirts you’d brought along from Two-bit. He was embarrassed, that was evident. Wished you’d done this at a different time, but hey, duty called; a promise was a promise. Scout’s honour, right?

  Without even thinking he grabbed your hand in his, reeling you away from the madness, all sassy. “Alright, that’s enough now!”

  A chorus of wolf whistles expelled into the air. Wildness evident in the five guys who'd grown up with the both of you. They were just playing of course, excited that Johnny finally had a lady in hand. It wasn't often the raven haired greaser picked someone up, let alone initiated any physical contact – romantically of course. Johnny had always been quite reserved, but here he was taking the initiative, pulling you around in the opposite direction of them. Surprisingly assertive despite him shaking like a goddamn ghost.

  You guys got maybe a few feet away when Dallas called out on the wind, “Hey yn, you better not be takin’ off the clothes on Johnny's body or he’ll be arrested for public indecency!”

  "I said that's enough!" Johnny called back, heat vivid on his cheeks.

  With that you both escaped around the next corner, the gang's calls and laughter fading into the background. Dipped into an alleyway to lose them for good. Glory knew they'd follow you both, and Johnny couldn't bear the thought of that. There was exhilaration in your chests. Johnny's hand was hot and sweaty in yours when you wound onto Pickett and Sutton. The air felt tight and you were afraid you'd just made an inconsolable mess of everything.

  “Honest to God Johnny, that wasn’t planned-,”

  He was sour, scrunching up his face, “Shoulda just let you keep these things.” He said with a smile pulling up the corners of his mouth. “They looked better on you anyway.”

  “Johnny Cade,” you gasped, stopping in the middle of the street, the yellow light from above illuminating you both, “was that you flirting with me?”

  Albeit clumsy, he was endearing. “Maybe, I dunno.” His cheesy grin warmed your heart.

  All you could do was gawk at him.

  “Look, all I know is that I kinda don’t mind you stealing my crap, okay?”

  “So I have special authority to steal? What is this, a secret mission for your girlfriend?” You grasped onto his arm, leaning into him.

  Girlfriend settled in the air in a peculiar fashion. It had never been uttered before, you both had just been friends up until this point. The confusion between you both seemed to fizzle away. The term sounded right. Johnny didn't want to be your friend any more, the guy on the sidelines dreaming of being with you. He swallowed thickly, looking at you.

  "I'm sorry I-," he cut you short.

  "Nah don't be." He shook his head softly.

  "So uh," you breathed a laugh, "that means we're like dating? " You tested the word on your tongue.

  He exploded with a blush, and a sense of pride swelled in your heart. "Y-yeah-," he nodded softly.

  It went quiet, but nothing was awkward about it. Two hearts galloped like wild horses through summer filled fields. You found the courage to speak first, whispering mischievously into his ear, "So what about that secret mission?"

  Johnny rolled his eyes, but breathy humour expelled from his lips, “Operation Shirt Thief!” He said in his best movie man trailer voice.

  You burst out in a fit of giggles, the walk home feeling bountiful and warm.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

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[arvandus]

A Cup of Affection (Part 1)

Pairing: Barbatos x f!reader

Content warnings: cisfem!reader; short-coded reader (or tall Barbatos, you pick!); reader's hair is able to be tucked behind the ear/brushed aside, but no further description provided; a lil’ steamy toward the end but no actual smut (that’ll be in part 2 *evil laugh*); reader loves sweets/sweet drinks; not proofread (watch me edit spelling/grammar errors later after this has been reblogged....)

**MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DO NOT FOLLOW OR INTERACT**

(divider credit goes to @benkeibear)

It was the worst thing he could have ever heard uttered from your lips.

“I think I’d actually prefer coffee today, if that’s okay.”

Barbatos stared at you dumfounded as if you’d grown a second head.  You flustered under his gaze, your fingers fidgeting and eyes dropping.

“I mean, if it’s not too much trouble,” you stuttered.  Your next words came out in a rush.  “Don’t get me wrong, I love your tea! It’s just... I used to drink it all the time back home, and I’m feel a little nostalgic for it.”

Ah, you were so cute when you got flustered... Barbatos could feel his resolve fracture just the slightest, and he tightened his mental control, like sealing a crack in a teacup.

Diavolo laughed.  “There’s no need to worry.  Barbatos’s coffee is just as divine as his tea. I’m sure it’ll be no trouble at all.  Besides, he just went to the market yesterday and restocked the kitchens.  Isn’t that right?”

Diavolo looked at him expectantly, innocence in his eyes, and yet Barbatos knew better.  The corners of Barbatos’s mouth quirked just the slightest in stiff acknowledgement as he made mental notes to increase the young lord’s workload for the next day or two....

“Yes, young master.  Although, had I known the coffee would be offered to guests, I would have purchased more of a selection.”

“I’m sure whatever you have is fine, Barbatos. I’m not very picky...” you reply encouragingly with a warm smile.

Barbatos stared at you for a moment and returned the expression with more warmth than he’d given the young prince.  “You’re very gracious, Y/N.”

Diavolo clapped his hands together excitedly.  “Lovely!  With all of this talk of coffee, I believe I’d like one as well. It’s been some time since I’ve enjoyed a cup.” 

How quickly one’s control over a situation can shift...

The butler bowed low.  “Of course, my lord.  I will prepare it immediately.” He straightened his stiff spine and stared at you, although he kept his gaze at the space between your eyes so as not to give away the heat he’d undoubtedly feel when looking directly into your dark pupils.  “Is it safe to assume you enjoy your coffee like you enjoy your tea?”

You giggled, the sound of it making Barbatos’s skin tingle.  “You mean more sugar and cream than coffee? Yes, please.”

Great. Just great.

Barbatos’s smile remained firm, yet he could feel its fakeness in the way the muscles at the corner of his mouth cramped. He hoped you couldn’t see it.

With a bow he retreated. As soon as he was out of your line of sight, his mask vanished, transforming from smile to frown.

You wanted coffee.

There was only one, large, glaring problem.  The only coffee in the entire castle was Hell Coffee. 

It was Diavolo’s favorite, his enjoyment of the acidic, bitter taste a constant, warm reminder of Barbatos’s fatherly affection. He only requested it when he required reassurance after a particularly difficult day, when Barbatos’s honest feedback and praise on a job well done weren’t enough.  Barbatos had no need for any other type of coffee, especially since he himself was renowned for his teas and cakes.  No one ever, in their right mind, would request coffee when offered Barbatos’s tea.

With each step, the calm butler began to lose more and more of his composure until he nearly slammed the door open upon his entry to the kitchen.

The three Little Ds in the room startled at his entrance. One stirred a large, steaming stock pot, one washed the dishes, and the other was chopping vegetables.

Little D Two, who stirred the pot, saluted him.  “Hi, boss!”

Barbatos glared. “Out.”

The Little Ds wasted no time in rushing through the door. But before Number Two could make it, Barbatos’s sharp tone caught him.

“Not you, Number Two.  You stay.”

Number Two began to visibly shake, his small hand scratching at his head.  “A-Are you sure, boss? You look like you wanna be alone...”

Barbatos did not have to repeat himself; instead, he pinned the Little D with a stern look.

The Little D began to return to the center of the kitchen where Barbatos stood.

“Close the door,” Barbatos ordered. Little D obeyed and then returned to his side.

Barbatos put his hands on the kitchen island and stared down at its wooden, weathered surface.

“She wants coffee,” he muttered.

“What was that boss? I couldn’t hear ya...” Number Two replied, inching closer.

“I said she wants coffee.” Barbatos repeated as he looked up, his brow furrowed in frustration.

“Who does?” Number Two asked.

Barbatos clenched his jaw for a moment before averting his gaze and answering.  “Solomon’s apprentice.”

He’d hoped referring to you by your title would ease the wildness of his pulse, give him the much-needed distance between his head and his heart.

It did not.

Number Two perked up. “Well, that’s no big deal! We have coffee, don’t we?” He began shuffling through the cupboards. “Where is it, where is it. Ah, here it is!” He held it up in victory and placed it in front of Barbatos.

Barbatos glared daggers at it.

Why would anyone ever invent such a thing, anyway?

Hell indeed...

“We can’t use this,” he muttered.

“What?? Sure we can! It’s Hell Coffee, we make it all the-Ohhh.”

Number Two grew very still and Barbatos’s jaw clenched.

The silence stretched an uncomfortable length of time as Number Two fidgeted.  Finally, he drifted in front of the butler, hovering above the busy countertop.

“So, you, uhhh-”

“Shut up,” Barbatos ordered through clenched teeth.  “Not another word.”

But Number Two didn’t know the meaning of the word. “I mean,” he continued, “it can’t be that bad, right?? Some people like it bitter...”

“Well she doesn’t. You do recall how she takes her tea, do you not?”

Two fidgeted some more, his nervousness worsening. “Ah, right. Good point. But how bitter can it get, really?”

“I’d prefer not to find out,” Barbatos replied.  “No, this will not do. There must be another way.”

“Can’t we just drown it out with cream and sugar?” Number Two asked as he began rummaging through the fridge.

“The purpose of Hell Coffee is to communicate fondness, Number Two.  The magic of that cannot be undone so easily.”

‘There wouldn’t be enough sugar and cream in the entire Devildom to drown out that bitterness...’ Barbatos thought.

Panic curled his fingers into fists, his heart pounding wildly in his chest.  Time was wasting. He had to return to you soon or you and the young master begin to grow suspicious.

But then, Barbatos had an idea.  “Tell me, Number Two.  What are your feelings towards the apprentice?”

“Huh? My feelings? I mean, she’s nice and she helps me out once in a while...” The Little D answered distractedly as he continued to rummage through ingredients.

“Perfect,” Barbatos replied. “You will make it, then.”

There was a loud thump as Number Two hit his head on the inside of the fridge.  He popped out, his little black hand lifting his hat to rub a sore spot. “Me?!”

“Yes.”

“I can’t make Hell Coffee!”

“Why not?”

“I’ve never done it before!”

“It’s not difficult.”

“But what if it comes out awful? I don’t even think Hell Coffee is supposed to work on Little Ds!”

“All the better reason for you to be the one to make it. Come now. Diavolo requested a cup as well. I shall make the first, and then I will guide you through the steps so you may make the second.”

----

Diavolo talked, but you were having difficulty focusing on his words as you felt the minutes tick by.

Perhaps you’d made a mistake...

In all honesty, you weren’t sure what to expect. All you knew was that Hell Coffee was the only coffee available in the castle, a little nugget of knowledge that Lucifer had given to you when he’d told the story of Diavolo attempting to make him the coffee himself.

As soon as you learned that little tidbit of info, your mind immediately went to Barbatos. Sweet, handsome Barbatos.  Barbatos who’s presence made your skin hum, who’s soft smile and deep chuckle made your gut twist in the most lovely way.  Barbatos who’s eyes seemed to read you like a book every time you looked into them, and yet gave away nothing short of amusement in return.

He was such a tea enthusiast that you’d never questioned the lack of coffee on his elegant and detailed menu. But now the thought of Barbatos making you Hell Coffee wouldn’t leave your mind.

After all, how else were you supposed to find out how he felt about you? Ask him?  Like a normal person?? Definitely not; the very idea was laughable.  You’d rather take his rejection through small sips of coffee rather than hear the words uttered from his mouth.

Because that’s what you were certain would happen. The acidity would be mild, the beverage more sugar than coffee. It wasn’t like the royal butler harbored any feelings for you, right? Sure, there was respect and friendship, but that was it.

So then why.... why were you so nervous? Why did hope flutter in your chest like a trapped bird?

Silly.

Anxiety twisted deep in your stomach, crushing your appetite and making your small desserts taste like ash.

But a moment later, he appeared, an ornate silver tray in his steady gloved hands, with two delicate teacups of steaming dark liquid.  He set the tray down and began to prepare them to yours and Diavolo’s liking. The close proximity made the delicious scent tickle your nose, and you inhaled and let out a happy sigh.

Barbatos was unmoved, his eyes kept to the teacups as he handed Diavolo his beverage first, and then yours.

Diavolo thanked him with a happy smile and took the first sip and winced.  “Ah, as bitter as ever Barbatos.  Glad to know you haven’t tired of me yet.”

“An impossibility, young master,” he replied smoothly.

You watched the exchange as you carefully brought the beverage to your lips and sipped.

Your heart sank instantly, the sweet tang clinging to your tongue.  It crushed your hope, silenced the unspoken confessions and washed them away to a place where they’d be left to slowly die.

“And how do you like yours?” Barbatos inquired, his neutral smile hiding any emotions worth noticing.

Or, as you’d just now discovered, where none lurked.

He respected you it seemed, had some basic level of fondness since the coffee still tasted of coffee, of course.  But it lacked the sharp, bitter bite that you’d hoped for, the one you’d experienced whenever one of the brothers made you coffee at the house.

You forced a small smile even as you felt your disappointment coalesce in your throat like a stone.  “It’s delicious. Thank you, Barbatos.”

Barbatos gave a polite nod and his posture eased ever so slightly. His satisfaction of your reaction to your bland, sugary cup only drove the painful truth home further, a nail into your heart.

Barbatos didn’t love you.

----

Diavolo stared at the empty teacups in thought as Barbatos began clearing the table.  “She seemed... disappointed, didn’t she?”

Barbatos glanced at him and then averted his eyes.  “Did she?”

“She certainly left quickly enough after the coffee.”

“I’m sure she simply has many errands to run,” Barbatos replied.  “The brothers and Solomon keep her nearly as busy as me.”

Diavolo stared at him for a long moment, then let out a gentle hum.

Barbatos graced his unspoken need for further attention with a lengthy side-eye.  “Yes, young master?”

Diavolo’s mouth quirked up slightly at the corner.  “Nothing... I just... I was certain that her cup would have been more bitter.”

Barbatos straightened up, the tray of now used dishes in his hand, his own mouth quirking up in return.  “I’m sorry to disappoint.”

Diavolor raised a challenging eyebrow at him.  “You do know I can tell when someone is lying to me, Barbatos.  Even you.”

Barbatos’s smirk vanished as quickly as it came, his walls up instantly.  “I have not forgotten, my lord. As such, perhaps you should cease pursuing this topic.”

“Have it your way...” Diavolo muttered.

Barbatos bowed. “If you’ll excuse me...”

He turned towards the castle, his eyes downcast on the half-drank cup of coffee you’d left behind.  As he began to walk back, Diavolo’s quiet voice followed him.

“You’re making a mistake.”

----

Diavolo’s words lingered in Barbatos’s mind following him into the next day, and the day after that.  It haunted him endlessly, making its appearance at the most inopportune times.  While balancing the budget, monitoring Lord Diavolo’s progress on his pile of paperwork, while running errands... he was far too busy to be so, so.... distracted.

Barbatos whole-heartedly disagreed with the young prince’s assessment.  In fact, in all honesty, Barbatos hardly ever made any mistakes at all, at least not anymore. He was far too careful for such reckless behavior.  Which was why Barbatos had a million and one reasons not to confess his feelings to you.  Between Devildom politics, his duties, and your mortality just to name a few, the cons far outweighed the pros... or so he tried to tell himself.

Even so, he couldn’t deny how you watched him when you thought he wasn’t looking, or the way your smile brightened in his presence... or the way you always managed to find a reason to cross paths with him at least a couple times a week...

Barbatos shook his head to himself.  No.  Best not to go there...

And yet...

‘You’re making a mistake.’

----

The truth of those words didn’t fully solidify until he ran into you at the market a couple of weeks later. Barbatos had already noticed how he seemed to be crossing paths with you less than usual. He already suspected you were avoiding him, putting distance between your heart and him.  He’d accepted it, a consequence of his own choices.

That is, until he saw the look in your eyes; the way you couldn’t quite hide the hurt fast enough behind your smile, the way your lips curled in artificial joy at seeing him.  Your words were brief and cordial, but he could tell you were eager to disentangle from his presence.

He’d watched your retreating back with his breath lodged like spikes in his lungs, the longing to grab your wrist and pull you back to him making his fingers twitch.

Barbatos had hoped that preventing an impromptu confession with cursed coffee would have allowed him to keep you at arm’s length, to keep his affections for you separate from yours.

But this felt less like separation and every bit like entanglement.  You weren’t just drifting farther away from him like two separate objects with nothing but empty space between. It felt more like ripping, a tearing of intertangled roots. It was painful and left an ache in his chest where your presence had made a home.

Perhaps the young lord was right....

----

Even so, Barbatos was as stubborn as he was prideful.  He filled himself with distractions to ease the pain, waiting for time to work its magic and ease the empty longing for both of you.

Another two weeks passed before Diavolo took matters into his own hands.

The prince entered the kitchen to see every single surface filled with extravagant desserts and warm breads. Little D’s were at every counter and stove, while Barbatos stood at the island in the center with a piping bag in his hand, his brow furrowed in concentration.

“Are we having a celebration?” Diavolo asked jovially.

“No, young master,” Barbatos replied.

“Then what is the reason for the feast?”

“I have been making modifications to my recipes to perfect my menu.”

“You mean the menu you’ve already perfected three times this week?”  Diavolo crossed his arms and leaned against the doorframe.  “This wouldn’t have anything to do with one particular sorcerer’s apprentice, would it?”

Barbatos’s hand flexed on the piping bag and a large glob shot out onto the cake he was decorating.  He glanced briefly at Diavolo.  “Of course not.”

“Then I’m guessing that it’s just a coincidence that you’ve chosen her favorite color as your decorating inspiration....”

Barbatos blanched and his eyes looked up from his work to take in the state of the kitchen.

Damn it, he was right... cupcakes, cakes, tarts, danishes, marbled bread, muffins... everything he’d made was somehow tied back to you.  Colors, flavors, textures... it was as if he’d gotten lost in his thoughts and his hands had written out apologies in the form of desserts rather than letters.

“Perhaps we should talk about this...” Diavolo suggested.  His amber eyes took in the exhausted Little D’s.  “Okay, break time everyone!”

A roar of cheers erupted throughout the kitchen, and a swarm of dark little bodies vacated the space in record time.

“Young master, I’d appreciate it if you didn’t override my authority within the kitchen,” Barbatos chided as he eyed all of the unfinished work.

“My dear friend, work them any harder, and they’ll all go on strike, and then where will we be?”  Diavolo closed the door behind him and made himself comfortable against the island, a pastry in his hand.  Barbatos returned to piping the decoration onto the cake that was nearly complete.  “You should talk to her, Barbatos.”

Barbatos froze and finally let out a heavy sigh in defeat as he set the piping bag down. He braced his hands against the weathered edge of the counter. “I cannot.”

“Why not?”

“It is not so simple.”

“Isn’t it?”

Barbatos chuckled.  “I sometimes envy your youthful, reckless optimism...”

“You’ve been sulking ever since that day with the hell coffee.”

Barbatos scoffed and straightened his spine in reproach. “I do not sulk.”

“Like a teenager with a broken heart ,” Diavolo pressed with an arrogant tilt of his chin and mischief in his smile.

Barbatos narrowed his eyes.  “If you have enough time to watch me so closely, then perhaps you can explain to me why you’re still so behind on your work.”

“Maybe I’m too distracted watching you clean the castle top to bottom and baking enough sweets to satiate even Beel’s bottomless gut.”

His words got under the butler’s skin and so he started straightening up the space, gathering crumbs of dough and flour into piles, wiping up blotches of icing from the wood grain.  “It is work that must be done my lord, nothing more nothing less.” Then he muttered, “A teenager? Really? You do realize I’m far older than you.”

“Yes, and how many of those years have you been alone?”

“I am not alone, young master. I have you, I have the Little Ds...”

“You know what I mean. When was the last time you fell in love?”

Barbatos froze, his vision blurring. He blinked and it refocused.

Yes... how long had it been?

“Look,” Diavolo said, “all I’m saying is that perhaps this is one area that you’re a little bit... rusty in.”

Barbatos was silent for a long moment, before giving a soft sigh and turning to lean against the counter the same as Diavolo.  “My lack of a love life isn’t the issue.  I can’t afford to jeopardize your position as prince by allowing myself to become emotionally involved with a human. And not just any human, but Solomon’s apprentice.  Many demons still haven’t forgotten how he’d singlehandedly opposed the Devildom centuries ago. I am your most trusted confidant, and as such I must err on the side of caution in all of my dealings.”

Diavolo’s eyes widened.  “Is that why you’ve been doing this?”

“I am your butler first and foremost, young master. You will always be my top priority.”

Diavolo blew air out of his cheeks and leaned his head back to stare at the intricate ceiling.  “I see. I appreciate the concern, friend. However, I believe, in this instance, it’s important that you put a little more faith in me to be able to keep the nobles in line.  Regardless of their opinions, I am the law of this land, and my position is final. Besides, she’s already intricately tied up in Devildom affairs considering she has pacts with all of the brothers.”

“All the more reason to be cautious,” Barbatos replied.

“Screw that,” Diavolo scoffed.

Barbatos gasped.  “My lord!”

“After all you’ve done for me, what kind of a prince would I be if I let the fear of the masses take away your chance at happiness?” Diavolo said firmly.  “You deserve to be happy too, Barbatos.  Now please, for the love of my father, get out of this damn kitchen and go apologize to her.”

Barbatos stared at the prince with wide eyes, before bowing low. “Yes, young master.”

Before Barbatos crossed the threshold, Diavolo called out with a chuckle in his voice. “You should ask her for coffee when you get there...”

Barbatos gave a soft laugh.  He had a feeling he wouldn’t have to.

----

For all of the inspiration and reassurance Diavolo had provided, Barbatos could feel his resolve slip more and more the closer he got to the front door of the House of Lamentation.

Would you turn him away? Run away to your room and allow the brothers to host him instead?  What if you weren’t even home? What if you were with Solomon?

A sharp stab of jealousy reared its head and he forced it back down.

That certainly wouldn’t do him any good, now would it?

He walked up the steps and rang the doorbell as he held his breath.

A silent prayer of gratitude and dread echoed through his mind as you answered the door. You froze when you saw him, eyes wide, your breath caught in your chest.

“Barbatos,” you said dumbly.  “What are you doing here?”

You clamped your mouth shut as you realized how rude you sounded, and all Barbatos could think about was how cute you were...

“I...” he started, and then froze.  He couldn’t say the real reason for his arrival, not on the doorstep where anyone could hear.  “I came to inspect the House of Lamentation for any infestations.”

Your shoulder slumped slightly in disappointment.  “Oh. Okay, come in.”

He bowed graciously.  “Thank you.”

As he stepped into the large foyer, you fidgeted nervously.  He stared the gesture and fought the blush that threatened to creep across his pale cheeks.  “Where are the brothers?” he asked.

“They aren’t here right now. Diavolo called them to a student council meeting.”

Barbatos’s eyes widened.  “Oh. I see...”

He wasn’t sure whether he should thank him or punish him...

He stared down at you as his heart pounded wildly.  “So you are by yourself then?”

“For a little bit,” you replied with a small smile.  “I must admit the quiet is nice once in a while...”

Barbatos’s own lips curled gently.  “Then I promise I’ll be brief.”

“W-would you like some tea?” you asked expectantly.

Barbatos hesitated, Diavolo’s words once again coming alive in his mind.

Ask her for coffee.

But Barbatos forced the suggestion aside.

“Yes, tea would be lovely.”

“Okay, I’ll be right back.  Make yourself comfortable.” You retreated toward the kitchen, and Barbatos sat in a nearby chair.

----

Tea, tea, tea.....

You opened the cannister that sat on the counter and stared at it with wide eyes and an open mouth.

Empty.

No, that can’t be right... you always had tea.

With your brow furrowed, you rummaged through the lower pantry.

Nothing. Not a single tea bag.

No, no, no....

Dread started from your toes and crept up like invisible fingers brushing against sensitive skin.

You had hoped to make this as painless as possible; give Barbatos his tea, allow him to do his inspection, and then send him on his way.  But already things were going awry.

You hummed to yourself with a furrowed brow as you dug out any and all drink options.  Water, milk, juice, soda... none of those seemed suitable for Barbatos.

You went back to the cupboards, moving items around as you searched.  Your hand wrapped around a familiar bag and you pulled it out with trepidation.

 Coffee.

You stared at the bag of Hell Coffee with narrowed eyes as if it was the reason for the lack of tea within the kitchen.

No.  Absolutely fucking not. You’d already made that mistake once before and you’d regretted it ever since.

Panic filled your veins and you fought back the burning sensation in your eyes.

There had to be something....

Your eyes spotted the upper cabinet that was so often out of your reach. It often housed excess demonus when Lucifer’s own cabinets were full in his office.

Maybe... just maybe....

Who knows, maybe Lucifer had received some tea as a gift from Barbatos and put it up with the rest of the demonus?

You grabbed the stool that had become your best friend within the Devildom-sized kitchen and stepped up.

----

Barbatos sat and fiddled with his clothing, adjusting the uniform repeatedly. It felt awfully tight today, the house feeling particularly warm.

The minutes ticked by, time stretched, and Barbatos grew more and more restless. He checked the time.  The tall grandfather clock chimed its gong.

Finally, Barbatos got tired of waiting.  Perhaps you’d run out the back door, leaving him alone in the house...

He chuckled to himself.  You would never....

He stood up and made his way to the kitchen.  When he pushed through the double doors, he froze as he stared at the sight before him.

The kitchen was chaos, cupboards open and various contents spread out on the counter.

And you, you were on a stool, precariously balanced, as the upper half of your body vanished inside a high cabinet.

“No, no, this can’t be happening...” you muttered, unaware of Barbatos’s presence. He could hear the anxiety laced in your tone, the tension tight around your vocal chords. You were desperately searching for something.

It was almost comical, watching you stand on your tippy-toes, and it’d been so long since Barbatos saw you up close, that he paused to cherish the view. His eyes followed the curves and lines of your body, his lips slightly parted.

That is, until you started to wobble...

You could feel the balance shift, felt the scrape of the wood beneath your feet give way to nothing.

That split second of panic, of knowing you were falling, was interrupted by strong hands and lean arms wrapping around your waist, catching your weight against a firm, tall body.

The impact of your body against Barbatos’s forced his own back against the closed lower cupboard, but he held firm, keeping your feet from touching the floor. Your arms were around his neck instantly, survival instinct forcing you against him as if he were a tree.

Time felt frozen for a moment as your heart pounded with adrenaline.

You knew immediately who’d caught you. After all, there was only one other person in the house with you.

Not to mention you could smell the scent of sugar clinging to his uniform, could smell the tea on his breath as his own heart pounded beneath yours.

You were torn between embarrassment and desire, your eyes closed as you clung to him.  But then you remembered the hell coffee from weeks ago, recalled that neutral smile he’d worn when you drank it, and your heart broke all over again.

Slowly you loosened your hold around his neck and pulled back just enough to look him in the eyes.

“I... thank you.”

His green eyes stared back, his skin flushed, although you were sure it was due to the haste in which he had to have moved to catch you. Barbatos held you for a moment longer than he needed to before slowly setting you down on unsteady legs.

“You’re welcome,” he replied.  Then his eyes looked up past your head at the kitchen behind you.  “Might I inquire as to what’s happening?”

You opened your mouth hoping to find a believable lie there, but there was none.  Only simple truth came forth, clumsy and blunt.  “We don’t have any tea.”

“Oh...” Barbatos looked down at you.  “So you’ve decided to reorganize your kitchen.”

The emotion pounding in your chest finally gained enough strength to work their way up your throat and brim your eyes with tears.

“I... I only have coffee. And, and water, and juice, and soda, and...”

Barbatos watched the panic overtake you and he took your hand in his, his thumb gently rubbing across the back of your hand.

“Coffee will be fine.”

What he had hoped would assuage your fear only seemed to heighten it, causing the tears to finally break loose, running wet tracks down your cheeks. You refused to look at him, instead focusing on the details of his uniform.

“B-but... I only have Hell Coffee....”

Realization dawned on Barbatos’s face, and then his expression softened.  “I see... then let us make some.”

He began to step to the side to go around you but you clutched his hand tightly, halting his retreat.  “No, you don’t understand. It’s...” Barbatos waited patiently as you found your words. Finally, your voice came through soft and timid.  “It’s going to be too bitter.”

A soft smile spread across his lips.  “I think in this case I am willing to make an exception.”

Confusion furrowed your brow as he led you over to the counter with your fingers intertwined.  “I... I don’t understand.... I thought...”

“Y/N, I have a confession to make... and an apology as well.”

A few minutes later and the sound of laughter is filling the kitchen with the scent of coffee in rich in the air.

“So you really bullied Number Two into making it??” you laughed.

Barbatos gave you a reproachful look.  “Bullying is a strong term, Y/N... but yes, I suppose I did.”

“Well now I know how Two feels about me, I guess...”

“And you know how I feel about you, too,” Barbatos replied with a small smile.

“Wellll,” you hummed, “Yes, but...” you stared at the two cups of fresh coffee sitting in front of each of you. “I still want to try it...”

It was Barbatos’s suggestion to make each other’s cup, to assuage any lingering doubts.

“Then let us proceed,” he replied.

With your eyes locked you both picked up your cups and took a tentative sip.

Sharp, deep bitterness greeted your tongue and your face soured.  Barbatos’s cup seemed to be no better, as he attempted to stifle a cough.

“Oh...” he mustered.  “Oh goodness, that’s...”

“Truly awful,” you replied with a chuckle.  “In the best way, of course.”

“It really is, isn’t it?” he laughed.  He took another sip and you watched in amusement as his winced.

You sipped yours again as well, and forced it down with your eyes squeezed shut.

“Do... do we have to finish the whole thing?” you asked.

“It’s customary to do so... not finishing it implies you’re unwilling to fully accept the other person’s affections.”

You frowned into your cup with a pout.  “Silly Devildom customs...” you forced another sip.  “Blegh.”

Barbatos grinned, his cheeks warm as he watched you.  “Perhaps, however...” he said, “we can call a truce.”

“Don’t toy with my emotions, Barbatos,” you teased.

His expression sobered from one of amusement to calm affection.  “I promise, never again.”

Your skin felt hot and you averted your eyes down into your cup.  His hand came forward, and you felt him tuck your hair behind your ear.

“I am truly sorry for deceiving you,” he said softly.  “It was a poor decision and one I’ll always regret.”

Your gaze returned to lock with his, and suddenly you’re keenly aware of his close proximity and of the emptiness of the large house.

Barbatos’s hand lingered gently on your jawline, his fingers tucked behind your ear.  His eyes flickered to your lips before returning to your eyes again.

Then he closed the distance and kissed you, his lips soft and tender against yours.  You melted into it, melted into him, your fingers twining into the jacket of his uniform.

He pulled away slightly and you stared at each other. Then he kissed you again, his lips firmer, more confident.  His hand went from your jaw to your waist, pulling you close against him as your arms wound around his neck.  The desire written into his touch, his lips, emboldened you to open your mouth slightly and swipe your tongue against his lips.  Barbatos’s lips curled into a smirk against yours, a deep chuckle vibrating in his chest. He acquiesced to your silent plea and opened his mouth, his tongue meeting yours.

Your body awakened at the warmth and taste of him, the acrid coffee still sharp on his tongue.  You pressed yourself harder against him, and his body pivoted until you were pinned between himself and the counter, your coffee cups long since forgotten and growing cold while your body grew hotter.

Finally, Barbatos broke the kiss, his forehead pressed against yours as his hands tightened on your hips.  “You’re going to make me behave improperly if you continue to torture me so.”

He was taller than you, much taller; you barely came up to his shoulder.  It made the buckle of his belt press against your stomach.

And below that...

Heat pooled in your core, desire heavy in your gaze.

“Oh no, not improper,” you teased, your hands on his hips in return as you looked up at him with pleading eyes.

Barbatos chuckled as he cupped your cheek. “What a troublemaker... however,” - he forced his body to separate from yours - “I would like to perhaps court you before repurposing your kitchen.”

You pouted your lip in disappointment, and Barbatos stared at the gesture with flushed cheeks.  His thumb came up and brushed against your protruding lower lip.  “Don’t do that,” he chided.

You grinned and playfully nibbled at his thumb, trapping it between your teeth.  His eyes darkened. He leaned in to kiss you again, but your words halted his approach just as his lips started to brush yours.

“How about dessert?” you asked against his mouth.  “Our coffee was so bitter, we deserve something sweet.”

Barbatos froze and gave a frustrated chuckle.  “Is this how it’s going to be from now on?”

You grinned.  “Maybe...”

“Hmm,” he hummed. Then he leaned closer to you until his lips brushed your ear.  “Sounds like fun...”

Your legs felt like jelly, your heart pounding so fiercely you were sure it was going to jump from your chest into his.

But then Barbatos pulled away, putting distance between you. “Fortunately for you, I happen to have a wide variety of desserts waiting in the kitchen at the castle. So,” he extended his hand to and bowed, “if you’ll accompany me...”

You smiled and took his hand. “I’d be happy to.”

“Wonderful. Let us take a shortcut.”

Barbatos opened a doorway out of thin air, and with your hand linked with his, guided you through.

Part 2 (link coming soon!)