#now if only he'd Shut Up for five minutes so I don't decide to kill him first

[apocalypseornaw]

Meant to Be (Pt 5/5)

Dean Winchester x Reader

With Sam's help Dean tracks you down.

@lacilou idea I ran with

Warnings: NSFW happenings

When you left the cabin it had been a split decision kind of thing. A part of you was surprised you'd been able to get out past Sam without waking him up. You'd quickly grabbed your bag of clothes, your gun and knives that weren't in your car along with the green quilt you'd claimed and slid out of the bedroom. Dean was asleep on the couch and you knew you had to be silent to get past him.

The door thankfully didn't creak any when you opened it and stepped out. You pulled it shut behind you then ran for the barn where your car was parked alongside baby.

You just needed some space. You'd decide where you were going once you hit the road and you'd call Bobby to let him know you were ok.

You could hear a knocking at your door as soon as you got out the shower. Who the hell was that? Tavi had hit the road as soon as the bones had gotten salted and burnt, maybe she'd forgotten something in your car?

"GIVE ME A MINUTE!" You hollered, throwing a sports bra then t-shirt on over the shorts you normally slept in. You almost headed right for the door but thought better of that in case it wasn't Tavi. You grabbed your gun from your duffle before moving to the door, gripping it in your hand as you turned the knob.

You would've been better prepared for damn near anything other than Dean standing on the other side of the door. "How the hell did you find me?" You asked, knowing if you tried to shut the door he had you on strength and thanks to purgatory on speed as well.

---------------

A smirk slipped onto his face "Cmon now Y/N. Think about who your best friend is" you groaned "I'm gonna kill him" "He was worried about you sweetheart, so was I" you closed your eyes at the nickname that had never bothered you before now "I would've answered the phone for him if I would've known you weren't nearby. Look Dean, what happened we can chalk up to cabin fever ok?"

He shook his head "I don't want to chalk it up to cabin fever. I just drove eight hours to get to you, can you let me come in and give me five minutes" you sighed, then stepped to the side to allow him into the room.

He watched you as you shut the door then walked over to lay your gun back onto your duffle "I'm giving you five" he nodded and started to take a step towards you but you stepped back, crossing your arms.

---------------

Dean knew you pretty well. The moment you'd opened the door you'd wanted to be happy to see him. That half second flash had told him that you really did have feelings for him and that he'd really hurt you. As if Sam bitching him out didn't tell him enough.

You stood about two feet from him with your arms crossed over your chest. The plain black tshirt you had on was a stark contrast to those bright pink sleep shorts but to him? You were the most beautiful woman he'd ever laid eyes on.

---------------

"I'm an idiot" Dean finally said and you couldn't even attempt to stop the laugh that fell from you "You could say that" he raised an eyebrow at your laugh "I'm being serious, trying to share my feelings here and you're gonna laugh at me?"

"You deserve it Dean! I'm sorry but you do. I have had feelings for you for years! I never asked you to reciprocate those feelings. I know the heart wants what it wants but damn, I got sliced by hellhounds trying not to lose you. I have tried so many times to bury how I feel, to forget it but then your ass comes strutting in with those green eyes and that smile and I lose every train of thought. I want you Dean in every way. I know your past, I know who you truly are. Your scars don't scare me I have plenty of my own. I know you push people away to protect them, I know you're a huge dork. I know Sam is the most important person to you, hell I know you wanted to be a firefighter as a kid because you couldn't save Mary. The only thing I don't know is what I would have to do to ever be good enough for you to see me!"

You hadn't realized tears had started to slip down your face until Dean quickly covered the area between you and when you didn't move away he gently wiped your tears with his fingertips. "Feel better to get that out?" He'd purposely pushed you into admitting your feelings. Damn him.

"Why did you come here? Why do you care if I feel better?" You asked, letting him pull you against his chest. "Because it took me too long to open my damn eyes but I do see you sweetheart. I am so damn sorry for every ounce of pain I've ever caused you" you pulled away from him and he let you. You looked up at him and he smiled "What will it take to prove to you that I'm genuine?"

He motioned between you "Want me on my knees? I'll get on my knees" he started to kneel but you grabbed his arm "Dean, be serious!" He looked at where you were holding his arm "I am. I never would've dreamt of being good enough for you. You're beautiful, an amazing hunter and friend. You're smart, dangerous when you're mad and downright sneaky when you wanna be. You went from that smart mouthed ten year old that wasn't afraid of anything to the amazing woman standing in front of me. If you still want me I am yours"

You shook your head "I don't want a night Dean" "Neither do I" the look in his eyes made your stomach flip. He was being genuine. Dean Winchester felt the same about you as you felt about him. He must have seen the look in your eyes because one of his hands came to rest on your hip, a grin slipping onto his face "Y/N?" You shook your head "and if this doesn't work? What about Sam?" His grin deepened "It'll work"

You couldn't resist any longer, you were in Dean's arms, the way he was looking at you "Kiss me?" "Thought you'd never ask" he pulled you closer to him, crashing his lips against yours.

-----------------

You'd thought about kissing Dean so damn many times but it was nothing like the real thing. The way his lips moved against yours, his grip tightening on your hips and the way he used the small gasp that escaped you to slip his tongue into your mouth, rolling it against yours in a way that made your knees go weak.

You pushed him away after a moment the need for air even greater than your need for him. He pulled back and almost looked disappointed until he saw the look in your eyes then he chuckled lightly before walking you backwards towards the bed "Tell me you want this and I promise you'll be sure come morning that I don't want anyone else"

You were trying to form words when the back of your legs hit the bed. Dean was silent, waiting for your answer with a smirk on his face "Use your words princess" "I want you Dean"

---------------

"You've got me" He promised before catching your lips in a passionate kiss. Your hands slipped under his shirt and when you tugged at it he broke the kiss long enough to slip the shirt over his head then tossed it behind him.

You moved from his lips to kiss across his jaw then down his neck and was rewarded with a low groan leaving his lips when you found his pulse point on his neck.

"Damn sweetheart" he murmured, reaching for the hem of your shirt. You let him pull it over your head along with the sports bra "Look at you" he whispered in awe before pushing you back gently onto the bed.

You watched as he quickly kicked his boots off then climbed onto the bed. "C'mere Winchester" you reached for his shoulders to pull him down with you. He groaned again as he caught your lips with his, one of his hands moved to cup your breast causing you to moan into his mouth at the feeling of his hands on your sensitive flesh.

He kissed from his lips across your jaw and when he got to your neck you had to stop your hips from bucking up against his. "So eager for me" He spoke into your skin.

He continued kissing down your chest until he got down to your left breast, he licked the nipple into his mouth while his hand worked the right breast. Your fingers found the hair at the nape of his neck, tangling there and when you tugged lightly he bite down just hard enough on your breast to pull a moan of his name from your lips.

He leaned back to look up at you and if you were being honest you damn near came just from the look in his eyes. Dean Winchester looked completely wrecked on top of you and you'd barely done anything yet. "You are so damn beautiful" he praised before continuing his trail of kissing and nipping down your stomach until he got to the waistband of your shorts. He looked up at you for permission and you nodded "Words baby. I want words" "Yes Dean" you breathed and he smiled "I love hearing you say my name like that"

----------------

He slipped your shorts off your legs and tossed them behind him before settling himself between your thighs. Anyone else on earth you would've felt self conscious, too exposed but with Dean? You felt wanted, like the only woman on earth the way he was looking at you.

---------------

He slipped one finger into you, watching as your eyes fluttered slightly from such the smallest of touch. He added a second finger, curling it up slightly until he found that small spot inside of you.

"Oh my God, Dean" you moaned, bucking your hips up. He used his other arm to slip over your waist to hold your lower half still as he licked into you, using his tongue to work at your clit while his fingers worked you over the edge. He could tell you were getting close when your thighs started to shake slightly. He changed his angle just slightly and knew he'd hit the right spot when your fingers moved to the back of his head, your grip tight as you moaned his name again.

-----------------

Words couldn't describe the feeling coursing through you. You closed your eyes tightly against the flood of pleasure "Dean" you moaned, trying to hold back and could feel your legs shaking from the effort. He chuckled against your core and you felt that coil inside of you threaten to snap.

He changed his angle just enough that the coil snapped, your vision going soft around the edges as your orgasm washed over you. Your fingers found the hair at the back of his neck, gripping tightly as he worked you through your orgasm.

You pushed at his head weakly when you began to come down off the high "Too much Dean. Too much" he pulled back to look up at you and grinned, wiping his lower lip with his thumb "You taste as good as I thought you would"

--------------

You moaned just from that "Fuck Dean. That was amazing" you looked down where he still wore his jeans "Can I return the favor?"

He stood up on the side of the bed and reached for your arm, pulling you into a sitting position "Whatever you want baby. I'm yours" you reached for the snap of his jeans, laughing lightly when you realized your hands were shaking a bit. "You ok?" He asked and you smiled "I'm perfect"

-----------------

You unzipped his jeans then he helped you push them down off his hips and kicked them away. Your eyes widened when you saw his hardened cock, straining against his boxers. He was long and thick. You reached for his boxers and he let you push them off his hips.

You looked up at him as you reached for his cock. You held his gaze as you licked a line from the base up to the tip. His eyes fluttered shut just for a moment and a praise of your name fell from his lips.

"God damn" he groaned before you leaned closer taking as much of him as you could into your mouth. You could feel his hips twitch in effort to not thrust so you started to move your head up and down licking and sucking him listening to his breathing to tell what touches he liked. You used your free hand to cup his balls gently massaging them and was rewarded with a moan from him of your name. "Y/N....sweetheart"

You pulled back from him with a wet pop to look up at him "Something wrong?" He shook his head with a smile "Hell no but I don't want to come yet" you smiled slightly "Oh" then grabbed his hand "C'mere Dean"

You laid back onto the pillows, pulling him with you. He crawled up your body, leaving a trail of kisses everywhere his lips could reach until he made it up to your lips. He caught them in a probing kiss, rolling his tongue against yours so you could still taste yourself on him. "Are you sure about this? About me?" He asked and you laughed "I'm sure Dean"

---------------

You felt him line himself up with your opening before he slowly plunged himself into you, both of you moaning from the feeling. Once he was fully sheathed inside of you, he stilled to let you adjust to his size. He rested his forehead against yours, his breathing ragged as he struggled to not thrust before you were ready "I meant it baby. I only want you. I was an idiot"

You leaned up to kiss him "It's ok Dean. We can make up for loss time" you tapped his shoulders "Move" he gave a tentative roll of his hips and when you moaned he smirked "I could get used to hearing that" you shoved his shoulder "Oh shut up and fuck me already"

He raised an eyebrow "Yes ma'am" he rolled his hips into yours and when your back arched slightly at the movement he groaned "Fuck I was an idiot"

-----------------

Every movement of Dean's hips meant he was hitting that spot deep inside of you. It wasn't long before you felt that coil tightening again. "Fuck Dean. I'm so damn close" You moaned, nails biting into his shoulders slightly. One of his hands slipped between your bodies, nimble fingers working at your clit while he kept his pace pushing you over that edge.

You came with a scream of his name on your lips. He fucked you through your orgasm then you could feel his hips stutter, "you can fuck me harder Dean" you breathed and he nodded "I don't wanna hurt you" you reached up to grab his face forcing him to look at you "You know I'm harder to break than that"

He caught your lips in a frenzied kiss before pulling back. He kissed the tip of your nose then buried his face into your neck. His hips started to snap forward into yours, the angle was the same but the depth he was hitting had you seeing stars again in no time.

You knew he could feel you were close again, his thrusts were starting to get a little sloppy and you knew he had to be close. He kissed your neck then said "You can come again baby. I won't be far behind" that seemed to be all it took for that coil to snap yet again. You could feel your legs shake around Dean as he continued to fuck into you, chasing his own release. "Do I need to pull out?" He asked and you shook your head "I'm covered. Please come in me Dean. Let me feel you"

He thrust a few times before burying himself inside of you. You gasped as you felt him come deep inside of you, coating your walls. He remained still on top of you, bracing his weight on his arms. When he met your eyes you smiled "That was amazing" he smiled in return "Took the words right out of my mouth" he kissed you gently this time as he pulled out causing a small gasp to escape you both.

He collapsed next to you, pulling you over on his chest. "We'll go get a shower in a few minutes" you cut your eyes up at him "You gonna carry me if my legs aren't working by then?" He grinned broadly "Of course sweetheart"

----------------

You lay there for a while in silence, both of you working to get your breathing back to normal before Dean spoke "I meant what I said Y/N. This, us...it's all I've ever wanted I was just too much of an idiot to realize it. I hope you can forgive me for the past because my future is all yours"

You placed a kiss over his heart before meeting his eyes "I forgive you Dean" he brushed your hair back from your face "How did I ever not see what was right in front of me?" You gave him a small smile before teasing "Well you have called yourself an idiot multiple times tonight" he rolled his eyes before pulling you on top of him.

Your hips straddled his waist and he gripped them tightly "As long as I'm your idiot I don't care" you laughed before leaning down to catch his lips in a kiss. "Of course you're mine" he smiled against your lips "I could damn sure get used to hearing that"

@lacilou

@deans-spinster-witch

@suckitands33

@deans-baby-momma

@jackles010378

@someonewhoisdesperate

@ferrersbiggestfan

@123passwort

[acourtofthought]

I haven't seen this particular gem of a post but there is apparently one going around stating that everyone in the ACOTAR world has suffered more than Lucien, that he doesn't know suffering.

Just a little starter here. The first book began with Lucien's friend being murdered because they needed to sacrifice him in order to break the curse on Spring.

"Autumn Court is ...cutthroat. Beautiful, but his brothers see each other only as competition, since the strongest of them will inherit the title."

"Lucien fell in love with a faerie whom his father considered to be grossly inappropriate for someone of his bloodline." "His father had her put down. Executed, in front of Lucien, as his two eldest brothers held him and made him watch."

"Without his title protecting him, his brothers thought to eliminate one more contender to the High Lord's crown. Three of them went out to kill him."

"But he has never forgotten what they did to her, or what his brothers tried to do to him. Even if he pretends that he has."

"She took his eye as punishment. Carved it out with her own fingernail, then scarred his face. She sent him back so bloody that Tamlin...The High Lord vomited when he saw his friend."

Lucien's brothers lurked on the edges of the crowd - no remorse, no fear on their handsome faces. Amarantha sighed. "I thought you would have learned your lesson, Lucien. Though this time your silence will damn you as much as your tongue." Lucien kept his eyes shut. Ready - he was ready for Rhysand to wipe out everything he was, to turn his mind, his self into dust.

"but only after she made Tamlin bestow Lucien's punishment. Twenty lashes." (remember, because he tried to help Feyre in her trial? Also she prevented Lucien from being able to heal).

"Lucien lay chained to the center of the floor on the other side of the chamber, his remaining russet eye so wide that it was surrounded with white. / Again he was to be Amarantha's toy to torment."

"Don't give me that look, Lucien." SIlence again. Then a vicious snarl, and a shudder of magic rocked the house. Tamlin's voice had been low, deadly. Do not push me on this. I didn't want to know what was happening in that room, what he'd done to Lucien.

Thoughts slammed into me, images and memories, a pattern of thinking and feeling that was old, and clever and sad, endlessly sad and guilt-ridden, hopeless -

"She - she didn't act that way at..." Lucien. Lucien had hated her. Had made vague, vicious allusions to not liking her, to being approached by her. I was going to throw up. Had she...had she pursued him like that? Had he...had he been forced to say yes because of her position?

He might have completed the Great Rite with Ianthe of his own free will, but he certainly hadn't enjoyed it. Some line had been blurred - badly.

I waited the five minutes it took Tamlin to decide not to kill Lucien, and then smiled. I wondered if Lucien had pieced it together. That I had known Tamlin would come to my room tonight, after I had given him so many shy touches and glances today.

"Back off". "Do not touch me," he growled." Where Lucien stood, back against a tree - twin bands of blue stone shackled around his wrists. / And in this case...holding Lucien against that tree as Ianthe surveyed him like a snake before a meal. She slid a hand over the broad panes of his chest, his stomach. And Lucien's eyes shot to me as I stepped between the trees, fear and humiliation reddening his golden skin.

As the youngest of seven sons, I wasn't particularly needed or wanted."

"Did you think it was mere hatred that prompted my brothers to do their best to break and kill me?"

The circle of people who now claimed to be Feyre's new family...It was what, long ago, he'd once thought life at Tamlin's court would be. An ache like a blow to the chest went through him.

"I am Lucien. Seventh son of the High Lord of the Autumn Court. And a whole lot of nothing.

"I do not belong in the Autumn Court. And I'm willing to be I'm no longer welcome at h- the Spring Court." Home, he had almost said.

"The same things he does now." Helion waved a hand. "Belittle her, leave bruises where no one but him will see them." (So to recap, Beron physically and verbally abuses his WIFE, killed Lucien's love and people think he had an easy childhood with this man?)

It would explain why his father and brothers detest him so much - why they have tormented him his entire life.

I hadn't asked Lucien any questions about that visit - to Tamlin. Lucien hadn't explained the black eye and cut lip, either.

"I don't have anywhere else to go." "You ruined any chances I have of going back to Spring. Not to Tamlin, but to the court beyond his house. Everyone either still believes the lies you spun or they believe me complicit in your deceit" - Side note but even knowing this, about how the people feel about him because of Feyre's schemes, Lucien still allowed the NC to permanently station him there in SF. It's really cute of E/riels to think Az is having such a rough go of it, living in the Night Court with the brothers who love him, while Lucien just has it so easy, right?

The male had grown up alongside Eris. Had dealt with Eris's and Beron's cruelty. Had his lover slaughtered by his own father.

This paragraph is about Eris: Beron had tortured his own son for information, rather than thanking the Mother for returning him. / The male had been raised with every luxury and privilege - on paper. But who knew what terrors Beron had inflicted upon him?

So with that said, If that's how Beron treated his own son how do you think he treated the son he suspected belonged to another man?

Cassian knew Beron had murdered Lucien's lover. If the High Lord of Autumn had been willing to do that, what wouldn't he do?

So by all means, I'd love to know how a character who we have canon evidence of suffering from his younger years all the way through the present has it so much easier than everyone else?

Someone's selective reading is showing!!

[quietwingsinthesky]

rules: tagger gives a word, then for each letter of that word you share an excerpt from your WIPs that start with that letter.

@cousin-quartz-of-house-paradox tagged me with the word "Palace" :3 and uhhhhmmm its like all assassins creed now. rip.

P

"Powerful muscle flexes beneath Henry's fingers, feathers lifting and settling like hairs on the back of a neck. Evie's wings are a sea of shiny black. 'Lower,' she says. Henry follows her directions without hesitation, fingers slipping down over her coverts until she sucks in a breath. 'There,' Evie breathes, 'it's driving me mad, please-' Separating her feathers is the easy part. Dipping his fingers deep between the soft vanes to touch her skin is... And when Henry scratches the spot that's been bothering her, she makes a sound that's utterly indecent. Evie puts her hand over her mouth. Her wing jerks from Henry's hand." (adding to my winged!assassin fics pile with uhhhh The Inherent Eroticism Of Giving Wing Scritches askldjsalkdj)

A

"Again, there’s no reason to lift her hand over Desmond’s eyes and cover them herself. Just commanding him to shut them would be quicker and easier. She feels the tickle of his eyelashes on her palm, the rub of his brows as they settle. She takes her hand back. With his head tilted into the seat and his eyes shut, he looks like he could be anywhere, anyone, in time. But he’s here. The unconscious flex of his fingers on the armrests reminds her of that. If the Animus was on, he’d be limp, heavier than sleep, even misfired neurons halted before they can reach the rest of his muscles. 'I’m going to guide your breathing,' Lucy says. Desmond’s eyes flicker beneath his lids, but they don��t open. 'You will inhale for the count of five, and then exhale as I count back down. Do you understand your instructions, subject seventeen?' 'It’s breathing,' Desmond mumbles. 'I can’t mess up breathing.'" (deslucy hypno fic)

L

"Laughter erupts out of Jacob, mirthless and almost cruel. His fists are clenched in Henry's shirt, so tight as to give an excuse as to why they're trembling. Smoke, Henry realizes, that's the acrid scent caught in Jacob's hair. Jacob presses him harder into the wall of the traincar, and when he hisses, 'Why not?', it doesn't come out like a taunt or a threat he can control, it sounds like he's trying to tear it out of him by any means necessary." (or, the fic where i tried to let henry & jacob do no-strings-attached dry humping for fun and instead jacob decided he'd rather have the worst sex of his life)

A

"Altaïr keeps his head low. He can watch the rise and fall of his own chest, feel the dry air fill and abandon his lungs. It's nothing. It should be nothing. He has had his hood knocked away in battle, so it is nothing to have Al Mualim remove it. Compared to the other punishments that await him, it shouldn't matter. To feel the Master's touch glide over Altaïr's bared head until his hand is cupping the back of his skull. And Altaïr cannot move. He can only stand obedient beneath the weight of Al Mualim's hand, exposed in the smallest way and feeling as naked as if he had been commanded to run bare in the courtyard." (fic wip currently titled 'what if assassin's creed 1 but we add more sexy dehumanizing aspects to altaïr getting demoted')

C

"'Can you stop and think for five seconds?' Millie snaps, bristling like a little chihuahua between Gabriel and Sam. She hasn't figured it out yet. Gabriel's hoping that one day he won't have to teach her, but... There it still is, what an easy mistake to make, that you can save your brother from himself. 'You're not killing Bobby, and you're not killing some innocent rando. We've got enough time, don't we? Fifteen minutes and a wi-fi connection, we can probably find some sick fuck we can stick instead. Someone who deserves it.' And Sam's expression shifts, not the cold-blooded acceptance of taking a life, but something Gabriel's much more familiar with—driven and sharp and furious, the kind of rage that puts a stake to your throat and means to drive it through. 'Just deserts, huh,' Sam says. 'Yeah,' Millie says, sounding relieved, ;yeah, I guess so. Better than what you were planning.' Gabriel's an archangel. Near limitless power and all that jazz. He could have stopped it. He doesn't, though. Sam's got to learn somehow. Millie doesn't make much of a noise when she's stabbed. Just a quiet wheeze, like the air being let out of a tire. Gabriel tips his head and keeps her heart pumping around the stake." (mystery spot redux, or: is it torture if you aren't gonna remember it happened to you)

E

"'Evie-' Jacob leans in and quiets Henry with a kiss. Henry shuts his eyes to enjoy it despite the slightly sour taste of Jacob's mouth, not that he imagines he has much room to complain. It's not the worst thing he's ever tasted off of Jacob, no coat of ash or split-lip iron." (evie/henry/jacob pwp)

im gonna pick my favorite word from anatomy class right now: Septum

and i shall curse with this tag game uhmmmm hmmmmm.... @schizosamwincester, @transgenderdoctorwhomst, @holyfreaks, @73chn1c0l0rr3v3l, @honestlydarkprincess, & @buddyapologist. and honestly whoever else wants in, it's always more fun when more people join the chain alksjdakljd

[pickledpascal]

Killer Queen

Chapter Three: Sweet Emotion

Warnings: smut for sure brother, penetrative sex, collars, BDSM elements, slurs, ben likes it rough i guess

Word Count: 3.8k

Killer Queen Masterlist

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Eventually, Eden was able to coax Amber and Soldier Boy out of their room to have something for dinner. Well, she mostly wanted to get Amber to eat, Soldier Boy was… a change, that's for sure. Something about him when Eden was in school or, hell, even when she grew up, she thought he'd be shorter. The boots had to give him an extra inch or two so they lied about his height. But they didn't. Soldier Boy was a six-foot-two all-American man. Eden always thought he'd be five-eight. 

Amber grabbed a few slices of the pizza Eden provided and stuffed a piece in her mouth. On the other hand, Eden kept staring at Soldier Boy. Nervous wasn't the right word, no, more like she was sizing him up. She knew she likely couldn't take him in a fight, even if she was a Supe, but she would probably be able to do something that made him suffer. 

“Who's that?” Ryan said when he came out of his room. He was looking up at Soldier Boy. Butcher was one of the only other men who had ever entered the house.

Soldier Boy glanced down at the kid and narrowed his eyes a bit. Why the hell did he look so much like him? He kept his mouth shut, opting to follow Amber's rules. For now. So he ate. 

Eden answered, “He's gonna be staying with us for a little while, kiddo. He's, uh,” She didn't want to lie. Ryan was a smart kid and he'd likely figure out why he was here in the long run but she also didn't want to say Soldier Boy was going to kill his dad. “He's one of Amber's special friends.” 

“Oh.” Ryan recoiled at the comment. 

Soldier Boy cocked an eyebrow at Amber. “He doesn't know what a f–”

“Shut the hell up.” Amber cut him off, gaze hardening. 

Once dinner was done and Ryan was away from Soldier Boy—Eden immediately decided they couldn't be together for more than fifteen minutes since Ryan would likely learn something he wasn't supposed to at ten. 

“So who the fuck are you?” Soldier Boy turned to Eden, lips pursed into a thin line that showed his dimples. A sign he was discontented. 

Eden looked at him unimpressed. “The smartest person in any room.” She shrugged. She liked to brag as humbly as possible. She wished Amber would do it more or else people wouldn't test her as much as they did. 

Soldier Boy scoffed, “You're a woman.” 

“And you don't know what an OnlyFans is so who's really winning here?” Eden countered with a lop-sided smile.

Soldier Boy tilted his head, glancing at Amber for an answer. She didn't give him one. 

“Do you think if we can get Homelander, Butcher will let us psychologically torture him? We’ll let him kill him afterward. Or, we could all bitch him together.” Eden suggested, an excited glint in her eyes before she glanced back at Soldier Boy. “Sorry your son turned into such a fucking bitch, by the way–”

Soldier Boy’s eyebrows shot up. “Wait, what the fuck does she mean?” He'd seen pictures of Homelander, pictures of him were plastered almost everywhere.

Amber glared at Eden. She was glad Ryan wasn't here for this. Especially considering his grandpa had quite the mouth on him. 

She and Eden knew of this after Eden hacked into Vought. Partly for fun, partly for work. They just so happened to come across a file about Homelander and his origins. And how Soldier Boy, by artificial insemination, was his father. Immediately after finding out the information, Eden blamed that on why Homelander was so horrible. Amber didn't know all of the details of Soldier Boy’s life but she didn't think that was the case. The file also included all the American propaganda Homelander was forced to watch as a child. 

A boy who grew up only watching American propaganda was going to fuck him up somehow. 

“You remember when Vougelbaum called you into your lab? It was 1980. Some sort of genetic test,” Recognition dawned in Soldier Boy’s face as he leaned back into the couch he sat on. “He was born in 1981. And part of the reason Payback did what they did. So he could take the spotlight once he was older.” Amber explained softly. She had a feeling it would be jarring for anyone to find out they had a secret child, no matter if they were a fascist piece of shit. 

Soldier Boy’s lips drew back into a snarl as he tried to choke down his emotions. Amber, he was fine with crying in front of, but Eden? Fuck that. He didn't need other people to know he was weak. 

He had a son. A fucking child. And he wasn't there like he wished he would. Anger rose in his chest. Soldier Boy abruptly stood and Amber could feel the air in the room shifting. She didn't have a radiation counter on her but she could tell, if she did, it would be skyrocketing. 

Amber lifted a hand to try and calm Soldier Boy which he slapped away. “Shut the fuck up and don't say you understand. You fucking don't. You don't even have the fucking parts to have a kid, you tranny bitch.��� He spat, chest heaving. 

Eden's eyes widened, looking between the two of them. Even most bigot fucks Amber came across, they didn't say it to her face. Amber's stare turned cold. Any sympathy she had for him was flushed down the drain. 

“Yeah, uh… I'm gonna take Ryan downstairs.” Eden excused herself. The basement was soundproof for the most part. And built like a fortress. She was glad she decided to make it out of metal. Sound didn't travel that well through it. 

Soldier Boy let out a sharp breath from his nose as he stared at Amber. There was a small part of him that regretted what he said but he was too prideful to go back on it. A muscle in his jaw tightened while his nose turned into a sneer. 

Amber wasn't intimidated by whatever tactics Soldier Boy was trying to use. “You think you're strong? That you scare me? Not more than an hour ago you were gagging on my dick. Some small part—or, hell, big part—of you is scared you like me,” The air in the room was tense, the radiation rising when she hit a little too close to home. “But another part,” She stepped closer, causing Soldier Boy to step away. “Is excited by that. You're not the most powerful in the room anymore. Maybe that way you'll be a little normal for once.” 

“Fuck you, you don't know shit about me.” Soldier Boy’s shoulders were rigid as he tried to stand his ground. 

Amber cocked a doubtful eyebrow at him, a smirk on her lips. “Uh-huh. I know for the past few seconds, your eyes have been on my dick,” Soldier Boy’s lip quivered with his anger but he made no move to deny it. “What Eden failed to mention is that Ryan is your grandson.”

Blinking, Soldier Boy's shoulders slumped. His jaw unclenched as he drew in a sharp breath. “He's—”

“Homelander’s son. The reason why he's here. Homelander wants to make Ryan like him,” Amber explained softly. Maybe she did have a little bit of sympathy for Ben. A shred. But it could easily be snuffed out and replaced with that white-hot feeling from earlier. “This could be your chance to be a father like you wanted. And, maybe, he could be better. Not like you or him.”

Soldier Boy dropped onto the couch, frame creaking underneath his weight. His whole world was shattered and put back together again in a matter of a few minutes. How could he have failed Homelander so badly? Hell, he would've let him take the spotlight. What kind of father wouldn't? He bit his cheek. Ryan wasn't his and he never would be. Sure, they were related but it was different. He'd know it would be different. 

But Ryan was so young. A whole life ahead of him. Soldier Boy pushed his hands through his hair, tears stung the edges of his eyes. He wanted kids. For selfish reasons. As a big fuck you to his father that he could do better than him. 

“Does he know?” Soldier Boy looked up at Amber, hands falling in his lap.

Amber shook her head. “No. I mean, Ryan knows who his father is. Not that you're his grandpa. And Homelander, as far as I know, doesn't know about you.” She sat next to him. 

“God fucking hell.” Soldier Boy sighed. Why did this feel a hell of a lot more messed up than anything he'd ever done before? He'd be stealing his son’s son away from him. Perhaps for good reason. “You–You’re—” A part of him really wanted to yell at Amber, accuse her of turning him against his own kin, but he had a feeling Homelander committed far worse atrocities than he did. At an even larger scale. 

Soldier Boy ran a hand down his face. “Ryan—he’s a good kid?” He asked after a while. 

“Yeah,” Amber hummed softly. Besides a few times of him slicing open the roof with his laser eyes or hugging Eden a little too tight, it was sunshine and rainbows. Eden was durable enough not to get immediately crushed. “I think he looks a lot more like you than Homelander anyway. Especially with that fucking box-dye. I mean, if you're gonna be the epitome of ‘blonde and blue-eyed,’ at least make sure it looks good before you base your entire personality on it.” 

Soldier Boy let out a small breath. A laugh. Even though he didn't understand half the words that came out of Amber's mouth, he knew the point she was trying to make. Homelander was an artificial fuck. Quite literally. He and Homelander's surrogate never even touched, he just sent his seed to Vougelbaum and never thought about it again. Whoever she was, they would've had a good night if they did it the proper way. Or Soldier Boy would've broken her. 

Amber hooked a finger under Soldier Boy's chin and tilted his head so he looked at her. “You remember that deal we made?” Her eyes flicked from his lips to his eyes. Soldier Boy’s breath hitched. “You called me something bad. Which means…” She intentionally trailed off. 

“Consequences.” Soldier Boy finished for her with dilated pupils. 

Amber winked, “Bingo.” 

After a scramble to get upstairs, Amber's door was locked behind her while she and Soldier Boy were inside her bedroom. He breathed heavily while she appeared calm. Way too calm. It was unsettling. Something about it made Soldier Boy’s pulse hasten. With dread or something else, he wasn't sure he'd want to admit.

“Turn around and strip.” Amber instructed with a smile. 

Soldier Boy wanted to ask why he'd need to turn around but the words were caught in his throat. He complied, taking off his Dodgers jersey and sweatpants along with his boxers. He heard a scraping of a drawer opening and closing. And then a light ding of a bell. He flinched as he felt his neck constricted. Soldier Boy glanced down and caught sight of the small jingle bell on his neck. Connected to a leather collar. 

Avery pressed a kiss to Ben's jaw and hummed as she stood behind him. “On the bed for me, hands and knees.” The way she sounded, it was more of a request. But he knew if he didn't comply, something worse would likely happen. 

Soldier Boy hated the way he so easily followed her order. And he hated it more when Amber pushed his head into the sheets and he liked it. If only his father could see him now. He wondered what he'd say. Probably something worse than what he could come up with. But, then again, that would take a lot more work than what his father wanted to do. 

“Take a deep breath,” Amber advised. Soldier Boy could hear a cap opening and closing. He had an idea as to what it was. “Or don't. You might like it better.” She teased as she pushed her finger inside him without any other warning. 

The muscles in his legs tensed as he moved his head, the bell on his collar ringing as he did. “What the—” Another finger. Soldier Boy was even less prepared than before. “Fuck!” Pain seared inside him. Not overwhelming but a lot more than he thought he'd ever experience in this setting. “What—”

“Shhh,” Amber cooed softly, “Bad boys don't get to speak. Now, I want you to be quiet. Or else something worse might happen.” Soldier Boy couldn't see her face but he could imagine what it looked like. A nice, but unsettling, smile on her face as hooded eyes stared down at him. “Give me a nod that you understand,” She pressed her fingers deeper inside and he had to bite on his bottom lip to keep a noise from escaping him. “C'mon, sweetheart, please?”

Soldier Boy nodded, eyes screwed shut. A satisfied noise left Amber's lips. She curled her slender fingers inside him while his face contorted, trying his best not to let out a strained moan as he gripped the sheets. His whole body tensed when Amber's hand started to move. 

In and out. In and out. In and out. Harder, harder, harder. He wanted to scream. Yell. Maybe kick a door in. He wanted to do something. But this power Amber had over him made him have second thoughts. The way she made him feel. Like he was a teenager again. Powerless. Soldier Boy had lived so long that he forgot what it was like. A life that was mostly filled with drugs, women, and alcohol to ease some sort of pain he didn't want to acknowledge. But Amber fucked it out of him. Somehow. 

So Soldier Boy stayed quiet. Like she asked—no, demanded—him to. And then there was that bell. It rang with each push. He felt like it was too much. The noises, the sensations, the fact that he couldn't let the tension in him release in some way. But it also wasn't enough. He wanted more. Needed more. That gnat inside him was going insane. He needed to feel sore the next morning, needed to be reminded of what happened, needed to follow her rules.

“That’s a good boy,” Soldier Boy could hear pants being unzipped. He drew in a sharp breath. “Only good boys get to be fucked by my cock. Do you think you deserve that?” Amber's voice was smooth and sweet, like honey, but grounded and strong. He couldn't get enough of it. “Use your words.” Her movements stopped so he could form more coherent words. 

“Please.” Soldier Boy panted softly, finally easing some of the tension built in his shoulders and arms. 

Amber tsked. “I can't hear you, sweetheart. Louder,” She thrusted her fingers in suddenly, eliciting a sudden, choked whine from Soldier Boy. And another ring of the bell. “Like that.” 

“God, please! Please! Amber, I-I need you so much.” He whined, pleading with every ounce of want in his body. His knuckles were white as they fisted the sheets. Soldier Boy was painfully aware that he tore them—he was so close—Amber would have half a mind to stop and think of something worse to put him through. “Like—fuck! Like nothing else I've ever needed in my life.” The words jumbled out of him faster than he could think. 

The air stilled. For just a moment. 

He was surprised at himself for admitting such a thing. Was meeting Amber really all it took for his walls to start crumbling? Not completely, but enough. To the point where maybe falling in love again wasn't so hard for him. 

Amber slid a hand up Soldier Boy’s side and let out a hum. “Really?” Her voice was amused. “Get on your back for me, then.” 

Quickly, Soldier Boy turned on the bed. His knees were bent in front of him. He was happy to finally be able to see her face. And appreciate her body. Amber was stripped back down to her underwear. Well, minus her actual underwear. Her bra was still on but he couldn't find it in himself to care. Amber pushed his legs apart and looked down at him. 

The view of Soldier Boy below her made her feel accomplished. Prideful somehow. Amber did always like the idea of a man begging for her. And this man just so happened to be a really powerful one. Yeah, that was gratifying. 

“I want you to promise me something,” Amber began with a light, intentionally, sweet smile as she pushed inside him. Soldier Boy's jaw dropped open. He felt like he was being split down the middle. “Don't say anything like tranny or fag or, hell, even pussy again to me or anyone else. Okay?” Her smile dropped from her lips, eyes glaring down at him. 

The bell on his collar rang frantically as he nodded, eyebrows furrowed with pleasure. 

Amber lifted Soldier Boy’s calf over her shoulder as she leaned over him, admiring the way he looked in the black leather collar as she pushed her pelvis into the flesh of his ass. His chest shook as he took in a sharp breath. 

“Please—please move!” Soldier Boy begged softly, lifting a hand to Amber's neck to gingerly caress underneath the curve of her jaw. He wanted to sob with need. He was way too close to having his fortress be completely and utterly destroyed. And he didn't want to stop it. 

A wicked smile graced Amber's lips. A twinge of desire churned in his stomach. “A little more, sweetheart, I like this.” She admitted as she jerked her hips. 

That goddamned bell chimed again.

Soldier Boy choked on a whimper. “Baby, fuck—I need you to move! Please.” His brain was buzzing louder and louder as time went on but he was still very much conscious and hadn't turned Amber into dust—not that he'd be able to do that in the first place. 

“Hmm. Okay.” Amber relented. Only slightly. 

Her immediate pace was hard and fast and Soldier Boy panted heavily, a whine or whimper at the end of every single noise he made. The bell rang with each movement, swinging softly. He pushed his head back onto the bed as his whole body tensed up. His muscles ached while his mind reeled with delight.

Soldier Boy had never felt anything like this before. Pure ecstasy. Better than the drug. Any drug for that matter. His ass was starting to get sore with each thrust but he couldn't have cared less. The ache made it all the more worth it. Hell, even the sound of her skin pounding into his made his mind whir like an old computer. 

“Your sounds,” Avery panted into his ear. “They’re fucking beautiful.” She attached her lips to Soldier Boy’s jaw, nipping at the skin. She wanted to do this more often. 

And judging by Soldier Boy’s sounds, he'd like that too.

“Ah, fuck!” Soldier Boy’s free hand gripped at Amber's waist, digging his nails into her skin. “Baby–Baby, shit—I can't—I can't—” He sobbed. He couldn't hold on anymore. All the touching and feeling and everything was rising and rising. A part of him was surprised he lasted this long. Especially with the finger-fucking he went through earlier. 

Avery flipped the bell around Soldier Boy’s neck as she sucked a mark above it. A helpless whimper escaped his lips. 

“Be a doll and hold it in,” Avery ground out, giving Soldier Boy a particularly hard thrust. He drew in a sharp breath which morphed into a whine. “You'll do that for me?” 

Soldier Boy whimpered, “Uh-huh.” He was so drunk on feeling that he couldn't stop himself from obeying her. But it got harder and harder with each snap of her hips. “Shit–” He breathed as the muscles in his legs started to twitch. 

“You're almost there,” Compared to the almost carnal way Amber was fucking into him, the way her lips pressed against his skin was soft, gentle, and felt strangely more sensual than everything else. “I can feel it, sweetheart. So am I. Just—” Amber grunted lowly into Soldier Boy’s ear. “Just hold on. A little more.” Her voice was strained.

That's when Soldier Boy had a moment of clarity. Amber was going to cum. Inside him. A shiver of delight ran throughout his body. 

After a few more deep pushes, Amber let out a harbored sigh. The tightness in her stomach broke and Soldier Boy cried out as he felt her paint his insides. Not more than a few seconds later, as Amber slowed her hips, he came as well. Drops of white landed on both of their stomachs. 

Soldier Boy had to resist the urge to actually cry. He had never felt more thoroughly satisfied in his life. 

“Oh, my sweet boy,” Amber cupped his face, tilting it so he would look her in the eyes. “You like this, hm? Me inside you? You'd like it if it was like this all the time, wouldn't you?” She teased softly. 

The man underneath her loved the weight of her inside him. Maybe he secretly wished she would split him in half. He nodded silently, his face red as he felt a bead of sweat run down the back of his neck. Soldier Boy didn't sweat. Not in a long time. 

Amber caressed the side of his face and smiled down at him. “I could arrange that.” She hummed. “But,” She pulled his leg from her shoulder and let it fall. “We have things to do tomorrow.” Her cock slipped from him and he immediately felt empty. 

He pursed his lips, a crease between his eyebrows when he let out a whine from the loss of her touch. He could barely speak after feeling something so intense. Amber went to the bathroom connected to her room to grab a towel and cleaned him up. Soldier Boy’s whole body was sore but his ass was where he felt it the most. 

“C'mon, sweetheart,” Amber sighed, running a hand through his hair which he gladly leaned into. “Don't be like that.” She sighed as she picked up her underwear to put it back on to, at the very least, have something to cover herself in bed. Amber didn't like being naked underneath covers. It just felt wrong. 

After some coaxing, Amber was able to get Soldier Boy to put his boxers back on himself and lay in bed correctly. However, he immediately clung to her like a vice once they were both in her bed. He buried his face into her neck while an arm rested over her stomach. Amber hadn't bothered to take the collar off his neck and Soldier Boy didn't mention it. He liked how it felt. A symbol of her ownership over him. 

That little bell stopped ringing. And so did his head. 

-----

A/N: I JUST WANTED TO SAY THANKS FOR THE SUPPORT ON THIS FIC !!! i never thought so many other people would want to read about soldier boy getting dicked down but here we are !!! ���

taglist: @aleemendoza2425-blog

taglist open here !!

[noonmutter]

Best Boy

DWC Feb 2024 Day 4: Vengeance/Satisfaction

Pandaria was already meeting spring with wide open arms, and the cheerful, bright sunlight was almost offensive to Shedwyn's eyes. That wasn't really new, though; everything was almost offensive to Shedwyn's eyes right now. Her fucking husband had gone and got himself fucking titled--legitimately titled, through no effort of his own, the fuckhead--and he had no idea how it'd happened. She had even less idea, and his babbling explanation hadn't made it a whole lot clearer.

The fact that they were shouting at each other about it the whole time probably hadn't helped.

But still.

Fucker.

After they'd gone in circles for about half an hour, and she'd slugged him in the chest a little bit harder than she'd actually meant to, she'd decided it was time for a breather.

"I'm going to Leon's. I need sex in my mouth right now and I don't mean you."

"First of all, fuckin' ew--"

"YOU KNOW WHAT I MEANT, ASSBAG OF KEEL."

She hadn't realized she'd been growling obscenities, mostly about her husband, out loud until the younger Ambroce whistled at her from his front door.

"Y'gonna keep me in suspense or kin we take this inside?"

"I want to be petulant and snarl some more and maybe blow something up, but I also want pizza, and I know if I do the first thing I won't get the second."

Leon nodded and stepped aside to let her into the house. "Yer becomin' downright self-policin' these days. I'm pretty sure tha's a good thin', but..."

"Shut up and feed me."

"Fine, but this better be good, y' grumpy li'l shit." He adored his sister-in-law, but that also meant he was a lot more willing to be crass with her than most. She was family, ergo she was tough enough to take a little bit of honest ribbing.

"Food then snark. Please. I want to not be the adult right now."

"Fair enough. Does tha' mean I don't get an explanation? Only if tha's th' case, I'm not gonna make yer fav'rite."

"But--"

"Them's th' rules."

Shedwyn sighed. She would kill a man for anchovies, and the man who did the absolute best thing with them was standing right in front of her, and she was a Lady, god dammit, and... She sighed again. She could be polite for a little while.

"All right."

"Attagirl."

"Don't push it, Ambroce."

Laughing, Leon closed the door behind them and fled to the kitchen to get to work. It was a good thing everyone else had left for their own chores for the day, or the complaints would've started within five minutes of the fishy dish going into the oven. For the most part, the house smelled of salt, generic "fish" smell, shrimp, ham, cheese, and tomatoes, but those first two really overpowered the rest. Anchovies were not popular at the restaurant in Stormwind, but the ones who liked them really liked them, as he'd found out, so he kept a small supply at home for emergencies. Emergencies like his little mana-bomb of a sister having a bad day, for example.

They didn't talk about much of anything while he was cooking. Leon was too focused to offer up much of anything without being prompted, and Shedwyn was in no mood to talk like an adult yet. She was in the mood to pout, and scream, and maybe punch Terry again. She'd had to go through so frickin' much to get her own title set down on paper and into the records that mattered; she'd memorized every stupid word of the stupid Doppelganger Decree of 28 and would probably not be able to forget about it for years. And Terry'd gone and fuckin' farted out a dynasty.

Shedwyn Lias-Ambroce was not strictly speaking a jealous woman, but she had limits. It just wasn't fair!

Somewhere amid the interminable brooding, a steaming pizza appeared on the table in front of her, and the clouds parted. Angels didn't sing, because angels sucked and didn't like anchovies, but that was fine. More for her. The first bite was always the best, but the second through sixth bites were pretty damned amazing, too.

Leon was kind enough to wait until she'd torn through two slices before he cleared his throat. When Shedwyn was not immediately forthcoming, he made his point by taking a slice of his own and sitting down. She growled to herself, then picked up a napkin and dabbed at her mouth.

"Your brother got lucky again."

"...Like yer 'avin' another kid, or...?"

This time, the sigh was loud, extremely melodramatic, and seemed almost to propel her backwards to drape over the back of her chair. "Like he didn't end up dead or promoted at the end of the Gilneas campaign, so he fell ass-backwards into a viscountcy instead!"

Leon blinked, then took a bite of his slice. Nope. Still don't like anchovies. "Alright..?"

"All right? Really? That's the first thing you say? Your brother's a goddamn titled, landed Gilnean nobleman out of nowhere! After all the shit I went through to get my shitty little Barony carved out of Duskwood! Not only does he just walk into some office in Stromgarde and walk out with a title, he walks out outranking me! Which I didn't know I would care about until it happened!"

Leon said nothing, simply letting her unload, as was his wont. His neverending patience pissed her off even more, as was her wont.

"I had, and still have, to work my absolute ass off for every single scrap I've ever gotten or ever will get, and then I have to work even more to keep it, and your bullfuckin' Ambroce luck has Terry just survive long enough! What the fuck, Leon?!"

When she stopped to ask him a question, even if it was a rhetorical one, Leon looked up from finishing off his slice. He calmly licked his fingers, then set his elbows on the table. Then, he set his chin on his hands. "Would it 'elp any if I said it wasn't all luck this time?"

"Well of course it wasn't all luck, it takes a shitload of skill to survive the absolute fuckalanche of shit he's been through, but--"

"No, I mean it was me."

That stopped the little mage mid-rant. "What was you?"

"Th' Gilnean Repatriation Initiative sent out letters somethin' like a month ago. I got one, you prolly got one tha' got tossed out, knowin' 'ow you an' Terry feel about anythin' bearin' th' royal seal of anywhere."

Shedwyn gaped.

Leon continued, "I'm just as much a Gilnean as 'e is, but I've my life 'ere, an' I very much like it. An' really, goin' 'ome does not bring 'appy mem'ries t' th' fore. Maybe I coulda got th' ranch back, but... gods, I don't want it. But I know Terry does. An' anybody 'o'd met th' man fer five minutes knew 'e'd go back t' Gilneas th' instant th' call went out. So I sent a reply with a couple suggestions."

Shedwyn's hair was starting to crackle like one of those globe toys that made lightning strike where your fingertips touched them.

Leon, undeterred, picked up the pizza plate and walked it back into the kitchen.

"My brother is a turd, a recoverin' racist, an' more than a bit of a jackass. But 'e's also an extremely patriotic, loyal man when 'e wants t' be. Tha's admirable as 'ell! Downright noble, even. Apparently they agreed, eh?"

The chair clattered to the floor as Shedwyn stood up, both hands up in front of her, grasping at the air in a strangling motions.

"You- you-"

"Feel free t' tell 'im Leroy says congratulations." He turned and stared her straight in the eye, even as they crackled with arcane lightning. "Elroy does, too."

Later on, Shedwyn would say the only reason Leon survived that meeting was because she didn't want to destroy the house, his spouses didn't deserve that.

Mostly it was because everytime she'd try to gather up the energy to cast something, he'd headbutt her, and she was too stubborn to dodge.

( @daily-writing-challenge @shedwyn )

[mackenzielovee]

jealous - rafe cameron

a/n: hi! im kinda a mess right now and this story is a little all over the place so im sorry if you hate it lol but i really wanted to write something based on what i think Rafe would really be like as a bf so here it is! (not my pic)

Summary: Your boyfriend, Rafe Cameron, takes you to a party.

Warnings: swearing, drug use (cocaine), alcohol consumption, mentions of sex

Word Count: 2k

my writing

You can hear the music coming from the house before you see it. It's Friday night on Figure Eight, and you already know what that means. Accompanying your boyfriend to yet another party. You and Rafe have been together for almost a year, and some days, you really think you could rip his head off.

You hadn't even wanted to come tonight. When you voiced that to Rafe, however, he told you with a shrug of his shoulders that he'd just find someone else to dance with. Of course, it started a fight, and now, you're sitting in the back of Topper's Jeep beside Rafe, watching as he stares at his phone.

He isn't talking to you or looking at you, but apparently it's enough for him that he just knows exactly where you are and what you're doing. It's not enough for you, though. You reach over and grab his hand from his phone, looping yours through it. Rafe hesitates at first, wanting his hand back so he can continue what he had been doing. When he sees your expression, his eyes soften just a bit and he relaxes into his seat and your touch.

Topper parks the car and tells all of you to hop out, which you do with the help of Rafe. You appreciate that he doesn't let go of your hand, even though you know it's only because you all are approaching the party and he wants every single person to know that you are with him.

Rafe leans over and kisses your temple quickly, then brings his lips down to your ear.

"Stay close, yeah?" he whispers, his hand gripping yours even tighter.

You know the drill by now. Of course you're going to stay close, because Rafe never lets you get more than five feet away from him at these things. You envy the way Topper treats Sarah sometimes, even though you really think Topper's a tool and would never date him.

Once you all enter the house, Rafe moves his hand from yours to around your waist, leading you through the party and glaring at any guy that even looks over at you. You all make your way into the living room area and find seats on the couch, Rafe immediately pulling you down dangerously close to him.

"Yo, who got this shit?" Rafe points to the cocaine on the table in front of him, the rolled up dollar bill tempting him.

"Bought it from Barry this morning, bro," Kelce speaks up, grinning. Kelce is always trying to please Rafe.

"Always reading my mind, brother," Rafe smirks, and leads forward to take a line without hesitation.

When he comes back up from his line, he grins and daps up Kelce, telling him it's good shit. Then, without you even moving, he leans over and kisses you roughly. His tongue enters your mouth quickly, which you accept and grab onto his neck. He moans into your mouth and then pulls away, immediately going back to the coke.

You sigh and sit back, pulling your phone out. You know Rafe will be high as a kite when you two leave tonight, which only makes you hopeful that he won't turn into an absolute asshole once that stuff kicks in.

He turns back to you with a devious smirk on his face, and before you can even ask what he's doing, he's collecting a line up on your thigh.

"I don't want that shit on me, Rafe," you grumble, but you know better than to move. He might just kill you if you spilled that shit all over the couch and the floor.

"Relax, baby," he tells you, not looking up at you. He's too focused on perfecting his line.

His friends all watch as he snorts a line up your thigh, all of them silently wishing they could do the same. You try not to roll your eyes at him and end up catching the eye of some guy standing in the corner of the room. He's watching you both, curious why you're hanging out with a guy like that. You just shrug and roll your eyes only halfway, telling the guy you're over it.

You're not sure why you do it, you suppose it's the concerned look in his eye as he watches. Nobody ever looks at you like that anymore.

When Rafe glances back up to you and sees you looking at another guy, he instinctively wraps his arm around your waist.

"I don't like the way he's looking at you," Rafe tells you, "Come sit in my lap."

His voice is raspy and his jaw is clenched as he pulls you into his lap, kissing on your cheeks and your neck as he stares at the guy. After only a minute or so, the guy is intimidated enough that he ends up walking out of the living room completely.

"Did you know him?" Rafe asks you, his eyes trailing the boy out of the room.

"No, baby," you sigh.

He catches the frustration in your voice and looks up into your eyes, reaching up and tucking a piece of your hair behind your ear. This is the Rafe you love; the intimate, soft one. The one who isn't afraid to show you how he loves you.

"Are you having fun, princess?" he questions, his voice softer than it had been before.

You're not, but you know Rafe is enjoying himself and wants to stay and hang out. So, you take a deep breath and nod your head, giving him a convincing smile. Rafe smiles back and strokes his fingers against your cheek, then brings his hand down to your neck to pull you closer to him. He uses his nose to move your hair away from your ear so he can talk into it.

"I can't wait to get inside of you later, sweetheart," he whispers, feeling you instantly start to squirm against his lap.

His dirty talk always gets to you. The way his voice gets all raspy and needy just does things to your body that no other guy ever could.

"Is that right?" you tease him, bringing your lips dangerously close to him.

"Mhm," he hums against your lips, then closes the gap between the two of you.

He loves when you play with his hair, so you do. You can feel him getting excited underneath you, so you continue. One of his hands wraps around your throat and the other goes down to your ass, making you moan.

"Yo, Rafe, get a fucking room, man," Topper groans.

Rafe smirks against your lips and pulls away, gently setting you down beside him again. You try not to be mad that Topper interrupted the first ounce of attention your boyfriend has shown you tonight. Rafe leans forward to cut another line, so you stand and look around for a bathroom. When he doesn't notice you get up, you decide to just run really quick to one and then come back.

You walk from the living room into a kitchen, then see a little hallway that looks like it probably contains a bathroom. Once you get down the dimly lit hallway, you feel a hand on your arm, roughly yanking you around.

"What the fuck are you doing going off on your own?" Rafe snaps at you, his grip on your arm tightening. You can feel his nails digging into your flesh, making you wince.

"Rafe, you're hurting me," you tell him softly, gently trying to move your arm out of his grasp.

"You need to tell me when you have to go to the bathroom," he says harshly, then releases our arm.

"I'm sorry," you mumble, looking down at the floor. He brings his hand up and grabs your cheek, pulling your head up to look at him.

"C'mon," he tells you, "I'll take you."

He reaches down and takes your hand, leading you down the hallway and stopping at a random door. There's one guy waiting outside of it, who Rafe pats on the back once the two of you approach.

"Find another one," Rafe tells him.

The guy turns around and looks at Rafe like he's crazy, his eyes glancing over to you for a second. Protectively, Rafe's grip tightens around your hand.

"Dude, I've been waiting for a while. The line was long when I got here," the guy tells him, watching Rafe sarcastically smile.

"Interesting story, bro. Move along. Now," Rafe's voice is harsh.

The guy rolls his eyes and pushes past the two of you, deciding he doesn't have to go bad enough to put up with Rafe being an asshole. Rafe moves in front of the door, pulling you with him, and bangs on the door.

"Time's up," he yells, continuing to pound on the door.

The door opens up a second later, the guy Rafe had removed from the living room with his eyes earlier stepping out. Of course, you think.

"Ah, if it isn't the guy who likes to stare at my girl," Rafe grins devilishly.

"Rafe-" you start, wanting to tell him to let it go.

"Go inside, baby. I'll be right here when you're done."

He drags his hand toward the door, which in turn drags you toward the door. He lets go as soon as you're in the bathroom, then leans in and shuts the door for you. You can hear Rafe sizing up that poor guy outside, but you choose not to listen. You use the bathroom and then wash your hands quickly, trying your best to hurry so you can save that guy.

When you pull the door open again, Rafe is leaning against the doorframe with his phone in his hand. He looks up at you when you come out and doesn't speak, he just wraps his arm around your waist and leads you away, still looking at his phone.

When you get into the kitchen, Rafe suddenly pushes you up against the wall with no warning. He leans forward and grabs onto your cheeks, bringing his mouth up to yours roughly and kissing you. He quickly picks you up and wraps your legs around his waist, keeping you pinned up against the wall. You kiss him back, loving the way his hands feel all over your body. If you're honest, you're growing impatient for the night to end. You really just want Rafe to take you home and fuck you.

Rafe pulls away after a few minutes, gently setting you back down on the floor and taking his hand in yours again.

"You're mine, don't you forget it," he tells you, his voice demanding. You nod and reach up to wipe your lip, which seems to be covered in Rafe's saliva.

You watch Rafe's gaze as it lingers around the guy from the bathroom, who had just seen Rafe's explosive display of affection. You sigh, knowing that entire thing was just a way of Rafe to mark his territory.

"We're gonna go get Topper's keys," Rafe tells you, "I can't wait any longer. I need you, right now."

You give Rafe a real smile this time and nod your head, following him as he leads you through the crowd. After promising Topper you two wouldn't fuck in his Jeep, he hands Rafe his keys so you two can leave. Rafe tightens his grip around your hand as he pulls you back to the kitchen. He purposely walks past that guy again, muttering something in his ear as you two pass that you can't hear. When you look back, the guy looks disgusted.

When you two get back to Topper's Jeep, you're surprised when Rafe opens up the back door for you to get in.

"Why am I getting in the back?" you ask him.

He smirks, "We're getting in the back."

You look at the devious look on his face and figure out what he's up to, so you raise your eyebrow at him.

"You promised Topper we wouldn't fuck in his Jeep," you remind him.

Rafe rolls his eyes, "Yeah, and last month Topper promised me he wouldn't bend my nine iron when he beat up that Pogue on the golf course with my club. Trust me, baby. He owes me."

You sigh but do as you're told, watching Rafe's smirk only grow when you climb inside. No matter what that boy puts you through at these parties, the sex always makes up for it.

[sociieties]

@peachmuses: after telling makoto everything he's heard from kazuya, (and telling him how kazuya showed him how he held shuu ) tatsuya is laid across his boyfriend, eyes staring up at the ceiling. " I think I fucked shuuzou up. " he says softly, " we dated. we fucked. I left. he hasn't been in a relationship since. it's been near two years. we started dating when I was 15. then, I left him and moved here. he moved here too, and now we are here. " tatsuya breathes out, " shuu is in love with zuya. I can tell. I dont think he knows though, but he is. "

makoto's comfortable in the silence, having settled in it after tatsuya told him about what kazuya did ( and now, really, makoto's the only who who hasn't seen it for himself, but knows about it all the same ). things were fine at one point -- it's something makoto knows to be true, but that one point now feels so long ago he doesn't know if they'll actually get back to it. unwillingly, he's dragged out of his thoughts as boyfriend chooses to break the silence with one of the worse things he's ever heard the other say before / and still, makoto chooses silence over words for what feels like five minutes.

first, finally, makoto's first words are nothing more than broken breaths as he exhales stress he's been holding onto for too long. " shuu is more sensitive than he tries making himself out to be. " he knows his best friend well enough to know it / knows his boyfriend knows his ex well enough to come to the same conclusion as well. still, he doesn't really know what to say about something like that as they were only 15, therefore young and stupid. shuuzou, makoto hates to admit, is a lot more damaged than he acts and even the tiniest cracks in things shake his entire foundation. this, however, is not tatsuya's fault. " it's not your fault, " he chooses to say, leaving out how he feels like shuuzou is an earthquake waiting to happen, trying to tiptoe across the underwater fault line that is kazuya. " shuuzou... "

eyes close as he allows his voice to trail, squeezing them shut and ignoring the way they burn before he restarts and tries again. " shuuzou also has abandonment issues. you didn't cause them. " if tatsuya made them worse or not, makoto cannot and will not say. " he followed you back here because he wasn't over you. he-- " this isn't really just information he just offers people about his best friend, " he decided that if he was going to chase after someone's affection, he'd rather it be like someone like you and not the family that keeps biting his hand and making him feel like the bad dog because he's tired of feeling like the villain. "

he swallows, hating that he's telling shuuzou's business, but he knows that tatsuya knows enough. ( still, shuuzou would kill him if he knew. )

" i don't know when or how he got over you, but he did. that doesn't make it your fault, it just makes it something that happened. " and yet, shuuzou is still one busted can of spaghetti sauce that people tend to step around instead of cleaning up. makoto's been cleaning him up for so long that his hands are stained red and he can't get the smell out. shuuzou, the broken best friend / makoto, the fixer with glass cutting his hands. " about zuya... he does that. he makes people care about him even when they don't want to. " he hates knowing this. " zuya's in love with shuu, too. what happened with his boyfriend, i doubt he actually really cared about him in any real sort of capacity, or ever even tried to. it's just shuu all the time for him -- it-- " face scrunches, " zuya's been avoiding shuu all this time saying that he can't show his face because he doesn't know what to do about it because it's shuu. shuu might have this thing about not fucking his friends, but zuya has it about not dating them. "

[chocolatecakecas]

Rockin' the Suburbs: Destiel Fic Chapter 1

Chp2 Chp3 Chp4 or read on ao3

Pretending to be married to his best friend who he's secretly in love with? Dean's totally got this under control. But pretending to be married and raising an actual toddler with his best friend who he's secretly in love with? Yeah so maybe he doesn't have it totally, under control, actually he's screwed. Fake married case fic+actual baby Jack? What could go wrong?

This was all Sam's fault.

Sam had strolled into the war room yesterday afternoon announcing that he had found a case in Sudbury, Massachusetts. Six people died, all parents, all with one kid, kids lived, but the parents, they weren't so lucky. It was in one of those Stepford gated communities where every house looked the same, "Pleasant Acres", or some crap like that. Meaning, Jody, Donna and Claire were all set to take the case, but they called twenty minutes ago saying they got caught up on a hunt in Montana. So now they were all shifting through their contacts, trying to find hunters with kids, since whatever it was only seemed to target families.

And Dean's been feeling well, weird, ever since Sam brought up the case yesterday. Something itching in the back of his mind. He's of course been  trying to ignore it, but now that he's reading over the case it's getting stronger, making his twist in way he definitely doesn't want to unpack.

He glances up across the room, eyes quickly finding Cas and Jack. Cas is seated across from him on Jack's blanket, helping him build unstable block towers, just so he could knock them down.

(read the rest under the cut)

Dean's stomach twists again, and an all too familiar feeling washes over him.

Yeah, he definitely doesn't want to unpack it.

"Hey, I think I got something" Sam calls pulling Dean from his trance as Cas stands, making his way back to his chair.

"So Sarah and Mike Johnson? Jody met them, and their daughter, Katie on a hunt last year. They live somewhat close by, so I'll try to give them a call" Sam continues, reaching for his phone.

And now, Dean doesn't know why, but he felt that thing squirm deep inside him, and the next thing he knew, he was talking.

"Why don't we take it?" Dean practically shouts startling everyone, including himself.

Sam paused, cellphone halfway to his ear and Cas' head snapped up so quick Dean's worried he has whiplash.

And so Dean freezes, mouth suddenly very dry.

What the hell was he doing, why was h-

"Why don't we take the case? I mean the thing is only going after families right, and we-we've got an 18 month old super baby right here. So we cou-two of us could take Jack for a week, play house for a week, and gank the thing" Dean somehow chokes out, watching as Sam and Cas' stare with increasingly disbelieving looks.

Dean’s heart began pounding against his chest.

Dean could barely believe the suggestion to take the hunt came out of his mouth, let alone bringing the kid? Completely out of the question, way too dangerous. He's not just gonna put the kid directly in harms way, on a hunt for godsake! And yet the suggestion had rolled off his tongue anyway? Dean didn't know why.

God what the hell was wrong with him today?

But it's not like he can just take it back now that he practically screamed it, so in favor of looking like an idiot or delving into the reason behind why he said it, Dean sat in his own silent panic.

From across the table he watched Sam's face contort into about three different emotions, finally landing on something that looked like agreement.

Shit.

"Well, that might actually be a goo-" Sam started with a sigh

"You can't seriously be suggesting we bring Jack along on a hunt? It's too dangerous, we've barely even left the bunker with him" Cas immediately cut in and god Dean could kis-Dean was very relieved.

And Sam surely wouldn't argue with that. So he was in the clear. He could just forget about this whole stupid conversation like it never happened, and never have to think about it ag-

"Exactly, I mean you guys have barely left the house and Jack has barely even seen the world. I hate to say it, but I think it'd be good, for all of us" Sam replied reluctantly.

And there goes Dean's heart rate.

"Sam, we don't even know what we're up against it co-"

"I know Cas, but he'll be with us. And besides, it looks like whatever's doing this, is only taking victims with young children, not a single one is over the age of five. So it's probably better if we end up taking the case anyway, rather than Sarah and Mike, or even Jody and the girls. We're the only one with a kid under ten. Plus he's half angel, we're probably at greater risk than Jack is" Sam reasons carefully.

A tense silence fell over them, the only sound was Jack babbling to himself on the other side of the room. Dean wanted to say something, wanted to say he doesn't know what he was thinking and it's crazy and they shouldn't take the case, but his mouth wasn't exactly on his side today.

He snuck a glance at Cas who has his eyes trained on Jack.

The tension was killing him, Dean had to say something. He couldn't just let this happen because his stupid mouth started talking nonsense.

So he swallows thickly, opening his mouth to take it all back, so they could forget this whole conversation ever happened, so he wouldn't have to think about why h-

"You're right" Cas sighs, looking as if his answer deflated him.

And Dean couldn't agree more with that sentiment because suddenly all of the air was knocked out of his lungs. He must have looked like it too because Sam met his eyes across the table, leveling him with a look Dean can't decipher.

Then suddenly, a smile spread across his face, which in his experience, is never a good sign.

"Alright so, Dean can stay at a nearby hotel, while Cas and I take the nei-"

"I'll go with Cas" Dean blurted before he even realized what was happening.

He snapped his jaw shut, but apparently not quick enough. Again, Dean didn't know why he said that, but that thing was back swirling around his stomach so he assumed it had to do with whatever the hell that was. And his mouth must have a mind of it's own today because he's pretty sure he didn't tell it to start moving, let alone say that.

Dean's heart beat against his chest, face burning. He forced his eyes to look up at Sam, not daring to even glance in Cas' direction. He can't handle any look that might be on his face. What if he'd rather go with Sam? What if he's ang-

"Okay it's all settled then, I mean so long as that's good with you Cas?" Sam asked, smile turning into a smirk.

"Yes, that's good with me" Cas replied, tone unreadable.

Was he really okay with it? Was he creeped out by the way Dean cut in? Was he actually annoyed that he'd have to be with Dean?

All great questions, with sadly no answers. Because Dean would have to actually look at him, if he wanted any insight to what Cas was thinking, and that was so not going to happen. Not with his face still on fire.

"Alright perfect! I'll call the real estate agent, about setting up a house tour, you guys start packing? And oh, don't forget to think of your backstory so you're both on the same page! We can leave in the morning" Sam said with a too wide smile, as he pushed himself out of his chair. Sam stopped for a moment, giving him a look that Dean definitely didn't want to think about right now, before turning down the hall with a skip in his step.

Yup, this was definitely all Sam's fault.

Heart still racing in his chest, Dean braves a look over at Cas.

And a bit of relief floods through him when he catches those blue eyes. Cas seemed fine, doesn't look angry or disgusted at the thought of doing this thing with Dean. So he counts that as a win, and his heart rate slows a bit, but he still doesn't know what Cas is thinking, and he needs to know.

But he doesn't dare say anything, because at this point anything could come out of his mouth, and that's definitely not a risk Dean's willing to take after the mini heart attack he just suffered. So, awkward silence it was until Cas decides to speak up.

Eventually, after what feels like hours, Cas slumps forward folding his hands on the table as he stares over at Jack. Dean follows his gaze, watching Jack knock over his lopsided block tower with an excited shriek. A small smile tugs at his lips.

"Dean, I still think this is reckless" Cas sighs and Dean turns back, finding his eyes trained on him, filled with worry.

Dean's smile slips at the sight, his heart clenching and he pretends not to know the real reason why.

Things were already...weird between him and Cas lately, and now his dumbass had to go and make it worse. Because what the hell was he thinking suggesting they take this hunt, bring along the kid, and practically beg to pretend to live with Cas. Jesus, Cas is probably beyond creeped out and angry.

Dean has to fix this.

"Cas, listen I'm sorry it was a stupid idea-I don't even know why I said it. Because now we're putting Jack in danger-and it's not fair that you're gonna have to be stuck pretending to be married to me because I-I'm gonna go find Sam and we can just call the whole thing off, and he can contact that other family an-"

"Dean, no stop I want to do the hunt" Cas cut in quickly, effectively stopping Dean's rambling.

"But yo-"

"I said I still thought it was reckless, and it is-to bring Jack along I mean. But Sam's right he's barely gotten out of the bunk-we've all barely gotten out of here, so I think it'll be good for all of us. And besides Jack has his powers" Cas replied, gaze shifting back to Jack.

Dean let out a breathe he didn't realize he was holding. Cas wasn't angry at him, he wanted to go on the hunt. And he didn't seem too torn up about doing it with Dean so-

"Jack will have us to protect him the entire time. And I'm glad it's with you, I feel safer about the whole endeav-not that Sam isn't a phenomenal hunter. He is, but let's face it he isn't the world's best babysitter when it comes to Jack" Cas said turning back to Dean with an amused smile.

He's of course talking about the last time Sam watched Jack, where they walked in to see Sam trying to coax Jack off the ceiling into a laundry basket piled with blankets.

Dean couldn't help crack a smile at Cas' little joke. The squirming feeling had disappeared, leaving Dean feeling much calmer about the whole thing as he relaxed in his chair.

They'd be fine, this would be just like any other hu-

"So, Sam mentioned a backstory? Should we come up with that now, so we aren't caught off guard when someone asks?" Cas suggested, eyes staring into Dean's.

And just like that, Dean's calm had left the building.

"Uh yeah sure. Let's do th-let's start with how we met" Dean managed, now that his throat had gone dry again.

"Well, we met September 19th, 2008 in a barn in-"

"Okay September 2008, we can use that-but let's turn the barn into a bar instead? I saw you sitting at the bar alone, bought you a drink, we started talking, boom the rest is history" Dean raced, wanting very much to be done with this conversation.

"Dean, people always seem to be interested in these kinds of stories. We're probably going to need more information if anyone is going to buy it"

Damnit. Cas had a point, stupid angel always has to be right. So he puffed out a breathe, unclenching his fists under the table.

Breathe Winchester. It's just some fake story.

"Alright alright, so I saw you at the bar, you looked lonely so I bought you a drink and we got to talking. You uh...just got out of a long relationship with a bad ex, and I had just been through hell and back with my job-"

"Oh I see, like me rebelling against heaven, and you literally going to hel-"

"Yeah genius how'd you crack that cod" Dean quipped only to be cut off by a swift kick to the shin. Cas shot him a smug smile causing Dean to roll his eyes, and his stomach definitely did not flip.

Get it together Winchester

"So you helped me through a terrible breakup, and I helped you through the stress of your job. In a way we saved each other, which isn't so different from our real story" Cas continues.

And Dean swears his friggin heart stopped, Cas' words knocking the wind out of him.

God Dean should have stopped thi-

"By the way, what is your job going to be?" Cas questioned with his usual tilt of the head that definitely did not send Dean's heart racing even faster.

"Don't care you pick" Dean managed to force out, as he tried to gain control of his anxiety.

"A mechanic, I think. You love working on Baby, I think you'd enjoy getting to fix and help other people's cars for a living" Cas suggested in the most sincere tone Dean's ever heard. And how Dean somehow managed a nod of approval through his internal breakdown, he'll never know.

"Alright, so you pick what my job is then" Cas smiled softly, either not noticing Dean's panic or clearly ignoring it. Dean was grateful for either option.

Dean managed to reign in his stupid freak out long enough to get his brain working.

"A college professor-maybe like English lit or something. I know you like to read, and you always like to talk to about the books after you finish them. That is if you wa-"

"I think that's perfect, it sounds like a nice career"

"Great, so met in September 2008, mechanic and English Professor helped each other through their crap. Now they're moving to the suburbs to grill burgers in the backyard and fight to get the kid into a good preschool. Sounds like we've go-"

"Oh, we need a wedding anniversary" Cas cut in.

And yeah Dean's 100% sure his heart stopped this time.

How could Dean be so stupid, they wouldn't have to just pretend to be together (which was difficult enough within itself, for reasons he'd rather not discuss), they'd have to be married. Of course he knew this logically, but since his mouth had a friggin mind of it's own, he wasn't really thinking about the implications.

Married. To Cas. With a kid. A family.

And god, Dean couldn't even sa-no he's so not unboxing that right now.

"Uh, got married in our backyard. Just pick any date" Dean said weakly once he found his voice.

Cas was silent for a moment, expression unreadable. Then he nodded to himself

"November 2nd, 2017"

And that was the final hit. Dean was sent spiraling, losing any control he had regained.

The day Cas got out of the empty, the night he called Dean, the night Dean tried to-

"Alright, good. Sounds like we've got everything covered. I'm gonna get a start on packing, why don't you put Squirt over there down for his nap" Dean said jumping to his feet and quickly made his way to his room without a glance backwards. He feels like shit for leaving Cas just sitting there, but he had to get away before he really lost it.

Dean carefully tries not to slam his door and flops down on his bed. His thoughts buzz around in his skull, while about ten different emotions wash over him all at once. With a groan he reaches out and punches his mattress, which doesn't do much of anything seeing as its memory foam.

God what the hell had he gotten himself into.

He just agreed to be fake married to his best friend and live in a house in the suburbs with a 18 month old child.

He was crazy. He didn't even know why he said anythi-god who was he kidding. Of course he knew why he said it, he just didn't know why he let himself say them out loud. Now he's gonna have to play house with Cas and Jack for at least a week, when he can't even admit to himself th-

No. He can't let any of that get in the way. He can't throw himself a pity party just because Cas doesn-this stupid hunt was his own stupid fault, also partially Sam's (Dean's still sticking to that, thank you very much)

This is still a hunt, there are lives at stake. He can stow it. For everyone's sake.

So Dean sighs running his hands through his hair as he racked his mind for what he'd have to pack. On autopilot he began grabbing his clothes and usual crap, shoving it into his bag. As he zipped it up, his eyes landed on a box in the top of his closet.

In a flash he had the box down, lid off, sitting on his lap. Dean reached inside, pulling out two rings and his stomach flipped at the sight.

Yeah, it was gonna be a long night.

The next morning they were all in the garage packing up the trunk, getting ready to leave for their two day drive. Sam said the real estate agent was ecstatic that they were interested in the house. Must be a hard sell since the last three owners died inside.

Dean was strapping Jack into his car seat, rings weighing his pocket down, like a boulder.

"I'm gonna grab the last bag from the kitchen" Sam announced as he jogged out of the garage.

Well, it was now or never. So Dean drew in a shaky breath and walked around the car.

"Uh Cas, here" Dean said lamely, holding out a ring between his fingers.

Cas tilted his, eyes widening at the object.

"We're uh, supposed to be married right? So we need rings ya know" Dean continued unsure of how to proceed.

Cas nodded in understanding, carefully taking it from Dean's fingers, and slipped onto his left hand.

Dean gasped, and quickly tried to cover it up

"Uh yeah sorry of it's too tight, it's mind from years ago. I used to wear a few of them all the time, but they hurt like a bitch when you gotta deck someone" Dean rambled, face heating up.

"It's perfect, thank you" Cas smiled, meeting his eyes.

The squirming feeling was back, and squirmier than ever.

"What about you?" Cas asked looking at Dean's empty fingers.

"Oh! I've got my mom's old wedding ring. Had it resized to fit years ago, so I figured it would work" Dean rushed, pulling the second ring out of his pocket and slipping it onto his finger.

When he looked up again, Cas was staring at him with a look Dean had never seen on him before. It made his heart skip a beat in his chest.

"Alright! You guys ready to go?" Sam called as he walked back through the door, causing both of them to jump.

Moment ruined.

Without a word, they quickly climbed into the Impala. As Dean went to turn the key, his eyes traveled to the rearview mirror.

Jack giggling in his car seat as Cas wiggled his stuffed rabbit right above his head. Cas suddenly looked up catching his eye in the mirror, giving him a soft smile, which Dean found himself easily returning.

His eyes slid over to Sam, who was staring at the ring on his finger. Then Sam met his eyes, offering him a smirk and a raised eyebrow.

So Dean quickly snapped his attention forward, and turned the key a bit too hard.

Yeah, Dean was fucked.

Tag list:

(Please let me know if you'd like to be added or removed💛!!!)

@wormstacheangel @smiledean @shelikestv @chaoticdean @midnightwings-deancas @jellydeans @sunshine-jack @archervale @wikiangela @organicpurplepants

@writtendevastation @tkdwolf2012 @doemons-blog @rolling-stoned-girl @skylerkernaghan @shadowywerewolfqueen @the-cookie-navy @thelahatiel @thefantasyfiend @castielle-deanna @aestheticflyer26

@multi-fandom-imagine @x-mypeopleskillsarerusty-x @wellofwoes @becky-srs @multi-fandom-dark-lord @perfectkoaladream @castiel-for-lunch @it--hurts--to--become @bowtiesandneckerchiefs @dakiaty @feraldean @teamfreebees @keshetcas @hrh-princess-bea @martymar1963 @misha-moose-dean-burger-lover @midnight-sparks-studio @slipper007 @winchester-novak

[yannowhatigiveup]

A Blinded Kiss

I haven’t posted anything recently so I dug around in my WIPs to see if anything was even worth posting and I found this that I made a while ago. It certainly isn’t the best but it isn’t the worst out of all my other WIPs.

"Is this really necessary?" The bluenette asked, eyeing a blindfold given by her brotherly figure.

"Of course it is Pixie!" An older man with two-toned hair replied, way too over enthusiastic about the whole situation. "It's a great way to find your way around the manor”

"And it's a great family bonding experience too!" Another man in the room replied, even more enthusiastic than the first.

"Fine, I'll do it Jay" the blue-eyed girl huffed, twirling the blindfold between her fingers. "What are the rules again, Dick?"

Dick beamed at the girl before answering. "Well Mari, it's simple. Put the blindfold on, count to fifty, spin around and try to steal a hug from anyone in the manor"

"So I have to walk around the manor blindfolded and try to sneak up on you? You know that's impossible!" Marinette exclaimed, she would not go around the house looking like a touch-starved fool.

"That's exactly why we're doing it" Jason replied, shrugging his shoulders. "It'll last a long time."

After a few seconds, the blue-eyed girl sighed, giving in to both Jason and Dick. "Fine, if that's what makes you happy" Marinette wrapped the matte-black fabric tightly around her eyes, already struggling within the first few seconds. She began counting and she heard the two scuffling away, smiling while being able to tell which direction they went in. In the mean time, Marinette debated her options.

'Both Jason and Dick would be the ideal choices but they'll be able to hear me from a mile away. Tim would be the most logical one since he's half asleep, but where does he even go in this maze? God knows where Alfred is, Mr Wayne is scary. Damian-' She paused her train of thoughts, granted Marinette had only met him a few days ago but that didn't stop the crush she had heavily try to cease. 'He'd probably hear me from a mile away as well. This game is so unfair'

Soon enough, Marinette reached fifty and spun herself around, she used a bit too much force than needed so now not only was she blinded but she lost her sense of direction. Giving herself a minute to recover, the bluenette began to walk. Using her improved senses, thanks to the miraculous, Mari was slowly able to create a theoretical map in her mind, though it did take much more energy than she desired.

"Fighting an akuma is easier than this" The bluenette muttered as she hit her thigh along the corner of a wall.

Even though she was using her enhanced abilities, she'd pump into a corner or a wall every now and again, the amount of times increased when her energy was being used. After wondering a hall for what seemed like hours, the bluenette came to a staircase, one that she ever so carefully used to get to a higher floor. Once she did, she kept a hand on one of the walls, using it as a guide. Soon enough, her hand came to what felt like a doorframe. The door was closed she could tell but it was recent used due to the fact that the doorknob was warm. Making sure not to intrude, she knocked on said door, she almost missed the muffled 'come in' had she not been paying attention. Marinette opened the door, went in and quickly shut it behind her, taking a deep breath.

"Okay I hope you don't mind but which room is this and whose in the room? Dick and Jason thought it would be a good idea to walk around the manor blindfolded while trying to sneak up on them" The bluenette huffed, only to freeze when she heard a familiar chuckle.

"I've heard, you're in my room, It's Damian just to clarify" 'Sh-' "So, what task must be fulfilled to give you permission to take the blindfold off? I doubt you want to keep it on any longer" Marinette giggled.

"You're right, I would probably get lost of I continue. Um, I have to 'steal a hug' apparently"

"So you have to hug someone without them inspecting it" Damian came to that conclusion to which the bluenette nodded her head.

"Yeah that's basically it, hey do you have anywhere I could sit down? I'm getting tired..."

"Of course, my bed is five steps to your front and two steps to your right, make yourself comfortable" She wasn't sure how red she had gotten but she obliged anyway. Had she not been wearing the blindfold, she would've seen Damian smiling at her flustered state. Giving herself a moment to regain her energy, Marinette turned to where she presumed Damian was working at his desk. "Can I hug you? Jay never said I couldn't ask the person first. I-I won't if you don't want me to! I just wanted to ask so..."

She heard the boy thoughtfully hum before he made his way over to her. From what she could tell, Damian was now in front of Marinette, looming over her.

"Did Todd or Grayson say it had to be a hug?" Marinette tilted her head in confusion and thoughtfulness, that had never crossed her mind before.

"W-"

"What happens if I kiss you instead?"

The bluenette didn’t reply with words as she knew how terrible her words would be in her flustered state. But she wanted this, her heart longed for it in a way it never did for anyone else. Instead, she nodded, giving the green-eyed boy permission to do as he wished.

She felt his hand lightly tilt her chin up towards, where she presumed, his face was. Then he pressed his lips onto hers, his other had behind her head, tugging at the fabric around her eyes. Marinette felt bliss, she was glad that no one else would interrupt this moment. Shivers went down her spine as she felt Damian’s hands travel up from behind her neck and to wear the blindfold was knotted, gently tugging at the binding. She was glad that when her face was free from the fabric that comprised her vision, the first thing in her line of eyesight were Damian's deep emerald eyes, the shimmered the same way they had when she first laid eyes on him, she'd been enraptured ever since. The boy, however, was smirking as he noticed the pink that dusted her face. Without a moment passing, she threw herself the green-eyed boy, delivering a hug. As she pulled away, her hands cupped his face and she returned his embrace with one of her own. When she pulled away once more, she smiled in satisfaction at his flustered expression.

"When did you realise you had feelings for me?" Marinette asked softly, her forehead pressed against his trying to regain her breath.

"That's a very easy question" Damian stared lovingly into her eyes. "I fell the moment I saw you take down that Akuma three times your size" Her eyes widened.

"You know about me being Ladybug?"

"The same way you know I'm Robin"

They both smiled, creating a truce to not reveal anything.

"Well I better get going, see you later." She got up from the bed and opened the door, only to turn around and say "Je t'aime mon cœur" before exiting the room, leaving a blushing Damian.

Marinette walked back down the stairs, the piece of cloth in hand and small love-struck smile on her face. When she entered the main living room, she came face to face with the owner of the manor.

"Oh hello Mr Wayne"

"Hello Marinette, I see you managed to get the blindfold off" The older man gestured towards the piece of fabric in her hand. "And please, do call me Bruce. Who did you end up surprising with a hug then?"

She smiled brightly before replying. "Damian"

His usual formal demeanor broke for a moment but Bruce quickly picked the pieces back up. "He didn't attack you or injure you in any shape or form?"

Marinette decided to play the oblivious little girl. "No..? Why, does he do it often?" Her head titled in confusion.

"Nothing it doesn't matter" Bruce simply sighed and shook his head. "Also, there's something I'd like to discuss with you at dinner, if you don't mind"

"No not at all, I'll see you at dinner then?" Bruce nodded and left, leaving Marinette alone in the room, waiting for her honorary older brother and his brother to come in. Which they did but only after some time, it was hilarious to see them crouched down, talking to each other in hushed voices. They flinched as she cleared her throat, both slowly turning towards the sound to find a smug looking Marinette and a blindfold whipped around her finger.

"I win"

~~~

Most of the occupants at the table were either in an all out war or were about to be, except for Marinette and an exasperated Bruce Wayne.

"So Marinette" The eldest Wayne began, silencing the rest of the table. "I hope you don't mind me asking but when you were off searching for Jason, you mentioned attacks that have been occurring in Paris, is this true?"

No one failed to notice the girl flinch. "Yeah it's true"

"...how bad are the attacks? In your opinion"

"Well it depends on how strong the person's emotions are really. If their emotions are strong, then the Akuma is strong too"

"What's the strongest akuma that Paris has seen?" It was Tim who asked and memories of the event began swimming through her mind, she got rid of them with a shake of her head.

"The deadliest akuma Paris has experienced was an akuma called 'Syren'. She's a regular person but, as an akuma, she managed to kill around 2 million people. But don't worry! Ladybug's cure managed to bring them back to life"

"D-did... did you die, Pixie?" Jason asked, his anger mixed with worry was boiling over and luckily simmered after seeing her shake her head.

"Do you think the heroes of Paris would let heroes from the Justice League come over to help?"

Marinette contemplated for a moment, should she really risk the heroes getting akumatized? "I think they would but I wouldn't know"

Bruce nodded while Jason leaned over the table to talk closer to his honorary little-sister. "Why didn't you tell me sooner?"

"I didn't want to bother you"

"You're not a bother, Pixie" Jason smiled at the bluenette on the other side of the table. "You never are and you never will be"

~~~

Marinette returned to Paris a few days later, in the mean time, Bruce and the rest of the batfam were planning their visit to the City of Love. Soon enough, the vigilantes were boarded on the plane. Their flight to Paris was relatively silent. After a few hours, they landed and the vigilantes waited on the Eiffel Tower, only to find out there was a battle going on. Before they could engage in the fight, they were engulfed with magical ladybugs that seemed to fix anything destroyed. As they were mesmerized by the cure, a certain spotted-heroine wobbly landed on the platform. Batman was first to notice.

"Ladybug" His voice caused the others to turn around. "Thank you for allowing us into your city"

Ladybug nodded, not uttering a single word.

"We were hoping, with your permission of course, that we could help you be rid of Hawkmoth once and for good" Again, Ladybug didn't reply. "Ladybug?"

When the heroine didn't respond, Batman glanced at Nightwing and the rest of his sons, clearly something was wrong. Unexpectedly, Robin took his glove off, approached the Ladybug-themed hero and placed his hand onto her forehead.

"You have a fever" he stated, his hand trailing down her face to cup her cheek. His family all shot him weird looks. She tiredly blinked at the vigilante, recognising him as Robin and allowed herself to fall into his arms, detransforming while doing so, leaving a burning hot Marinette.

"Dami?" He hummed. "Take me home, please..." She drifted off to sleep, comforted in her lover's arms. He glanced at his family, holding the bluenette close.

"Pixie...is Ladybug?" Red Hood's voice was first.

"You didn't know?" Robin's voice mocking confusion, enraging Red Hood that his youngest brother knew something about his sister that he didn't. Even more so that his demon brother was holding said sister,

"We should take her back home" Dick went over to feel the girl's forehead. "She's burning"

"Tikki?" Robin asked and a red creature flew out from one of Mari's pockets, startling most of the people there.

"I'll try to heal her on the way, follow me"

The floating red creature flew down from the Eiffel Tower, Robin and Marinette close behind. After some hesitation, the others followed, they ended up on top of a bakery. One by one, they entered through the trapdoor on the balcony, finding both Damian with his mask off and a weak looking Marinette. Despite her enfeebled state, the bluenette greeted each vigilante, her gaze landed on Jason.

"It's just a fever, I'll be fine"

Jason removed his helmet and ran a hand through his hair before both settled on his hips. "You don't look fine"

"I promise I am" She wasn't convincing, not at all.

"Fine" Jason huffed, he could never truly say no to the girl he viewed as his little sister. "But since when were you two a thing" He pointed at the two, his gaze resting maliciously on Damian.

"It's all thanks to you, you know" Marinette smirked at Jason's confusion. Tim snickered as he seemed to catch on to what she was saying.

"Had you not organized that 'blindfolded game', I doubt we would be together at this moment" Damian supplied the information, clearly unfazed by the burning rage in the eyes of his older brother.

"Baby Bird's all grown up" The eldest Wayne son overdramatized wiping a fake tear, Batman sighed at his two eldest sons while pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Get your fucking hands off her, Demon Brat!" Jason tried to lunge at Damian, only to be stopped by both Dick and Tim. Though his fury only grew when Marinette snuggled closer to the green-eyed boy, both smirked in victory over Jason's horrified appearance.

Marinette was now part of the family in more ways than one. Though they wish they had found out in better circumstances, they would be able to take down Hawkmoth once and for all, side by side, all together. And to think this all happened because of a silly blindfold game.

[lucis-dove]

New York High Rise {3}

Series summary; What does Steve think of what just happened? Well, not only will his next client get to know but also a dear friend of the mob boss.

Pairing: mob!Steve x mob!reader  

Rating: Mature

CHAPTER NO/ONESHOT: Chapter 3/5

Word; 6.2k

Warnings; canon type violence, death, anything you could expect from a mafia!au

Author; @the-goddess-of-mischief-writing

A/N: I just want to warn anyone, this chapter revolve around Steve and contains graphic scenes so if anyone feel like they may get triggered, I have now warned you. If you choose to read anyways it is YOUR choice.

SERIES MASTERLIST

Steve was fuming. He could practically feel the steam rising from the top of his head. This time, compared to earlier, it wasn't because of the feverish warmth inside the club. Nor the sunny season's air outside. It was because of the folder resting on the table.

The Canine boss could still hear the echoing slap the orderly stacked papers had done when landing on the table. Even your words reverberated in his head like an annoying tune he couldn't help but mutely sing in his mind.

This was not how he'd thought this meeting would go.

Steve had planned to get his will through, to expand his empire from Brooklyn to the most successful part of New York, Manhattan, your territory. But no. You'd decided to be as stubborn as a mule and as stuck up as the bureaucrats that he needed to handle in exclusive deals.

Now he understood why so many said your empire wasn't the usual kind, rather something new. You'd built your syndicate from the best, or worst in regard of how the Canine for the moment saw you, of two worlds.

"Bitch", you were long gone, so the growled curse aimed at you went unheard. However, the walls around Steve caught the profanity he uttered whilst snagging the folder from the table and pursued to head out of the room.

Only the guards stationed outside the corridor leading to the conference room was still in the club. Yet, the Canine boss paid them no mind as he stalked out of the private area, making them scramble to follow him. The rest of his party, even those previously undercover, must have either retreated for the night or waited outside. Concerning how Steve himself hadn't left yet, he suspected at least his most trusted team was waiting by the car.

Passing through the lobby, the mob boss frightened some of the staff lingering about. Not only thanks to the authority he always carried himself with but also his visible darkened features. However, Steve's attention didn't stray to the people following him with wary eyes. Instead, he looked straight forward, focusing on his guards where they lounged around the black Chrysler he'd arrived with a few hours earlier.

Seemingly, they had enough of an engaging conversation that they shared some laughs. But that changed the moment Steve stepped through the door a bouncer held open for him.

Usually, the Canine boss' hard exterior dissolved somewhat among his men, seeing how they'd become good comrades. Although now, when the dark-blonde man came out of the club looking like he could kill someone, their easy smiles and carefree stance immediately smartened up. Backs straightened and jaws clenched upon seeing the fury Steve not only emitted with a scowl but his whole body.

"How did it go?" One of the guards questioned, more out of courtesy than curiosity, concerning it was clear how it went. As suspected, he got nothing more than a glare from Steve, seeing how his anger hadn't flickered out the slightest, only heightened when feeling how his fingers clutched the folder in his hand even tighter. Your folder with your contract.

"Where's Barnes?" Some flinched by his bark of a question.

"He's still inside...", the rest of the answer fell on deaf ears as the blonde rounded the car, not caring too much where his head bodyguard was for the moment, only that he would hurry up to finish whatever he dealt with.

"As soon as he's back, we go", the driver, who had noticed the Canine boss and stepped out of the vehicle to hold open the door for him, didn't even get the chance to do what he intended. Steve all but tore open the backseat door and climbed into the car. Leaving the chauffeur to stand there and look at his boss in perplexity, as the Canine didn't more than touch the black leather seat before he slammed the door shut again.

That Steven had a temper everyone in his vicinity knew. But how he now acted reached not only a new level but contrasted heavily to how you'd appeared.

You'd left about ten minutes ago, looking indifferent to how everyone in Steven's patrol had seen you when first entering the designated conference room. That guard of yours had led you to the car parked mere ten feet from their own boss'. There, your chauffeur had greeted you with a smile and a few quiet words none besides you were meant to hear. Neither was your response, that likewise was accompanied with a smile, able to be distinguished.

As you stepped into your transport, none of the men trying to read your expressions noted anything more than a similar politeness Steve could show them once in their company. However, when comparing it to the state of their own boss once he exited, it was clear that the meeting didn't favour the Canine boss, but rather the Feline. And though none who had accompanied Steven knew what the two of you'd discussed concerning the meeting had been a closed-door discussion, they knew their boss hadn't brought anything with him earlier. So when spotting the portfolio that the mob boss had held in his hand, it only sealed the deal further.

That was why none of the guards nor the chauffeur intruded on the solitude Steve had sought inside the car, merely waiting for the right-hand man of the Canine boss to return so they could head to their next stop.

And it was good none did either, seeing how Steve mulled over everything that had happened with curses leaving him every five seconds. Additionally, anyone who would've opened the opposite backseat door would have got your folder smack in the forehead, seeing how the blonde man had thrown it as harshly and as far away from himself that he could, once in his own confinement.

He didn't need to hold the damned contract you'd offered him, even less open and study it, to know he would read it in your annoying voice. And that aggravated Steve even more.

It annoyed him that your voice echoed as a constant reminder in his mind. It annoyed him that you'd prepared a contract, which so obviously cried you hadn't even come here to listen to him in the first place. It annoyed him to such a fucking degree that you'd played him by a mere act of forced courtesy rather than a gentlemen move, to use your own words, that it felt like he could just tear the contract to shreds.

Still, he didn't.

The blonde man seethed, turning his head to look at the folder. 'If you don't sign it and have it delivered to me, I know you've declined my offer and this war will be ended in another way.' He knew you were serious about that, so perhaps that was why he hadn't left it behind in the conference room. Nonetheless, it had taken a great effort for Steve to push away every ounce of pride in his body to grab ahold of it. And when he finally held the stiff cartoon folder, it had almost felt like it burned him like some crucifix. No, it burned like a sign of defeat.

Joseph Rogers would never have done it, never admitted when he was defeated.

At the thought of his father, Steve's hand fisted where it rested on the armrest dividing the two seats in the back of the car. What would he say? He probably wouldn't have said anything, just walked out as you had done to him. A vibration deep in his chest made a low sound leave him at the realisation you actually played the game his father always had and Steve himself only thought he had.

Fittingly, or unfittingly in his own mind, the door connected to the other seat opened with a click to interrupt the abusive thoughts of his father.

Although pulled out of his mind, Steve didn't glance to see whoever plucked the folder occupying the seat beside him before they climbed in themselves. There was only one person that first and foremost would dare to be in his presence right now. On top of that, also knew he was the only one who didn't need to repeatedly ask for permission to join him.

Not even when he saw the person shift in his peripheral, from simply holding the folder to actually waving it slightly to catch his attention, clearly wanting to ask him a question, did Steve look towards them. Although, he did speak up.

"Not a word, Barnes", the Canine boss raised his fist, so it was levelled with his cheek as he said this. By now, his nails had dug into his palm and there was no question small crescent moons would be dented in his skin.

"Maybe I should've stayed, after all", the sentence was followed by a chuckle, the sound making Steve snap to watch the man sitting beside him.

"Didn't I say you should keep your mouth shut?" The blonde stared at the brunette. Who, unlike earlier, now had pulled his hair into a low bun in the nape of his neck. However, no matter the fury the Canine's cold blue eyes conveyed, Bucky Barnes saw no real threat.

"You often do, but you have so far not put a bullet in me", Bucky shrugged with an easy smile.

The mob boss remained silent as his head bodyguard leaned forwards far enough to knock on the wall beside the still open windshield that could separate the driver from those in the back seat.

"Close it up", Steve honestly thought the brunette would've given the chauffeur, who now had taken his place behind the wheel, directions of where to go. Gauging by his act, he must have done it before getting into the car. Hence, the driver did nothing but nod to signify he heard what the guard said before closing the visor, leaving whatever Steve knew Bucky wanted to talk to him about for only him to hear.

He felt the car rock to a gentle start, the road underneath the vehicle sending small vibrations throughout Steve. Tilting his head, he saw the scenery blur as he didn't concentrate on anything specific they drow by.

Despite the initial silence of the car ride, the blonde saw how the man beside him shifted, angling his body just slightly more his way. The minimal change of where Bucky attention laid told the mob boss he would initiate a conversation. And as on a cue, Bucky spoke. "So what happened? 'Cause clearly you scared half of your squad enough for them to want to take a week off".

He didn't redirect his gaze, fearing that his now fisted hand would connect with his friend's jaw if he didn't control himself. What happened? The question taunted in his mind, enough so that Steve clenched his jaw. Everything that shouldn't have happened.

"You have the folder", he gritted out, continuing to aimlessly stare out of the window, now concentrating on how the scenery changed from the narrow streets the nightclub had been located in to instead manifest the glittering sunset reflecting off the water in East River.

Beside him, he felt how Bucky shifted and shortly afterwards came the sounds of papers starting to be turned over. The head guard sat silent as he read the contract that not even the Canine had looked through.

The lack of verbal confirmation of Steve's evident loss in this meeting spurred the blonde, whether he wanted or not, to glance at the brunette.

Bucky's brows were furrowed. Consequently causing the grooves on his forehead, which always appeared when he pondered something, to become extremely visible. His features remained this way as his eyes scanned over the rows stitching together the contract. Then, for some reason, they changed.

From an expression showing the brunette tried to fathom the situation that had made Steve considerably harsher to anyone in his close vicinity, his face now fell and a smirk began to toy with his lips. On top of this, he let out a low whistle turning to the next page.

The smouldering anger in Steve's chest flared up to the same intensity it had burned with earlier. Back when he had sat in silence and glared at the folder inside the club. He ground his teeth together, feeling how they caught in each other's pointy edges.

"What?" He demanded to know what the man all of a sudden found so entertaining. Yet, the answer didn't come immediately. Instead, Bucky sat there with the same expression pinning his face while finishing the document in his grip.

Not until the brunette had closed the binder and waved it similarly to how he'd done when entering the car did his gaze meet Steve's. His eyes, also blue but slightly greyer in colour, was crinkled in the corners. The amusement, or whatever caused the mob boss nostrils to flare in agitation, was only further displayed by the shake of his head.

"She's good".

"What?" Bucky almost hadn't finished his nearly wordless reply before Steve barked his requirement of an explanation.

"Whether you want to admit it aloud or not, I know you think about it in that analysing brain of yours", the brunette begun, pushing the folder underneath the mob boss' arm on the armrest. Steve, who followed the act with disdain, shuffled in his seat directly afterwards so he wouldn't be touching the contract which you formerly had been carrying around.

Watching the blonde's action, Bucky only continued, now even less worried his words might be wrong and evoke further anger from the Canine. Of course, he might still get mad, though Bucky knew he at least was right. "She is good, Steve. If not shown by this contract, which I suggest you read, then at least how she's gotten to you".

The blonde man elected to ignore the last part of his bodyguard's sentence. Hence, only questioning the first part. "Why should I read it?"

Arrogance was a trait many shared once someone stepped on their pride, but never had Bucky witnessed such amounts of it exhibited by the Canine boss. His nose twitched in the corner as if the mere thought of opening the papers offended him. The mistrust in his voice showed he didn't believe what just was advised to him, nor that the words of you being competent could be true. All signs of denial, a damaged pride.

"Sometimes I wondered how you even could've come this far to rebuild your father's empire when you're so stubborn to see the truth at times", the comment made Steve cock his head.

"Is that a threat or a call for resignation, I hear?" Bucky simply rolled his eyes and turned to fully face the man, now giving him his undivided attention.

"I may have been here from the day you called me and asked me to join your plans, but believe me, working outside this world for some time, especially in the field I was in, you learn to see who is good at their job and not".

Although Bucky had known Steve ever since they were kids, essentially because their fathers had been partners when the Canine empire was worth more than its own power in gold, the two had fallen out of the regular touch they'd kept after Joseph had passed. Steve had remained close to his mother. While Bucky returned to have both his feet in the ordinary world.

His name had never been brought into the discussion of conviction or any kind of youth crimes, essentially thanks to his father never being proven guilty of the few charges raised against him. Another favour his old man thanked the former Canine boss for. For Bucky, it made things easy to find live his life as if he didn't know what went on underneath the city he walked in.

He went to school, took a degree in law. Which his father before passing as well, considered humorous. Though, Bucky didn't start working directly even if offered jobs. He'd been young and not really knowing which direction he would go. He had no mothers footsteps to follow, seeing how she'd passed before he even had a memory of her. His father shoes still felt too big to fill, so he decided to follow a path he felt natural.

Bucky joined the army. Not more than a few years and two trips. Nevertheless, it was easy pocket change concerning two factors. His father had urged him to take the same martial art classes as Steve's father had done to him. He'd also lived with one foot in the syndicate and the other outside during his whole childhood. The concept of order, planning and warfare wasn't anything alarmingly new to him.

Then he'd begun to explore more, starting to step into the low tier position as an intern at different firms. It was easy to get in, concerning his degree and quickly, he gained enough working experience to get a promotion. His former boss at the advocate company may have thought Bucky was a natural talent or a genius from school. But, it was all thanks to his upbringing he possed the requirements a higher position demanded.

It's mainly thanks to his years working within the judiciary before reconnecting with Steve and began working as his head guard Bucky knows you fall into the group of people who are good at what you do.

The blonde had sat silent this whole time, never breaking away from Bucky's stare. It made the brunette believe that his friend would settle whatever resent he had towards you personally and at least read through the arrangement you assembled for the greater of his empire. Apparently, he was wrong.

"But now you're not working with that anymore", Bucky actually let out a low scoff of annoyance.

"I'm working as a head personal guard for someone I'm swaying on keeping alive at the moment, I know. And I do this because we both know I'm better at the combat part than you, ever since we were kids", despite the jab, it was the mention of how the man, despite being roughly the same size as Steve, always had been slightly better at fighting then himself that made the blonde bite his inner cheek. "I also know that I'm still damn good at what used to be my former profession. Which, you actually also should know concerning you never shoo me out of the room when discussing with your official advisors of the plans to come", when he finally ended the point he wanted to prove, he cocked a brow at Steve, who now had furrowed his brows.

Bucky saw the ire still lingering in the blondes' eyes, making them go cold rather than warm. Nevertheless, he said nothing. The Canine boss simply gave the folder, which hadn't moved from its settlement no matter how much the two men gently had rocked with the turns of the car, one last glare before he altogether turned away as much as his seat let him.

The head bodyguard was close to letting the comment of how similar the mob boss, who'd made a name for himself lately of being indifferent to everything standing in his way, was to a rebellious child. Yet, in the end, he didn't, knowing the car ride would become even more atrocious than it already was set to be.

As suspected, the whole drive from the club to the luxurious hotel, where the Canine boss' next stop was, went by in complete silence. And, when they finally pulled up outside the building, the car had almost not stopped before Steve opened the door without a word. The brunette couldn't but let out a huff and follow the man out of the vehicle.

As Bucky tracked a few steps behind the blonde mob boss, he nodded to a few of the other bodyguards to follow as well. Whatever he might have remarked about considering to keep Steve alive was very much said as a dig at the moment to remind the man he might be written as his subordinate, but he was true to nature working side by side with him. After all, Steven was his friend and Bucky didn't desire to get his blood on his hands.

When the little party of Canines neared the entrance, both men stationed on each side of the doors opened them without further ado. Either they thought Steve looked like someone fitting to live here, or they could've been paid to do so. The brunette figured it was the latter concerning the overall safety measures, not only this hotel but the district in general upheld. Although, he didn't question it way too much as he now concentrated on the slightly denser crowd of people in the lobby.

Not only did they blend in quite well, concerning the people living at this hotel was flanked by at least two bodyguards each. Bucky also noticed how some of the former rigidity in Steve's shoulder lessened as he weaved through the lobby.

Though anyone else may find it excellent that the physical aspect of the blondes former irritation trickled off, it unsettled Bucky even further. Thus, having grown up with Steve, he knew that the silent seething anger was worse than the outgoing one. This, in other words, didn't bode particularly well.

However, even though the brunette had a raising suspicion, along with fear, that this visit the mob boss had decided to do after his meeting with you wouldn't have a good outcome, he had no chance to voice his worry. Essentially because the elevator they'd taken to reach the floor they were heading to now stopped.

Bucky was first to exit the elevator. Checking that the coast was clear before looking back to the Canine boss. He tried making the blonde meet his gaze, now seriously doubting if Steve was fit to meet the partner he'd had an escalating problem with the past weeks. Yet, the blue-eyed man kept his attention straight forward and didn't even spare his childhood friend a glance.

A thousand things were running through Steve's mind as he headed down the corridor, spotting the door his business partner was on the other side of.

He knew Bucky tried gaining his attention with the repetitive looks he threw his way. His most entrusted bodyguard and friend could read him like an open book. Thus knowing the silent facade that he'd put up was just that, a facade. Still, he continued to ignore him as he'd done ever since their conversation was over half an hour ago.

As the party stopped before the door, Steve decided to give the inclining nod to one of his other guards to step forwards and knock on the door.

Following three rapid knocks, a call of 'no cleaning' followed by a similar set of knockings later, footsteps could be heard near the door from the other side. A few seconds after, the door swung open, revealing a man currently trying to fasten his cufflinks.

"I said I didn't...". Even though the brunette's eyes had been cast down as he'd began to speak, the second they flickered up to watch, what the man must have assumed would be a hotel maid but rather was the Canine mob boss, he trailed off in his sentence.

"Good day Mr Jefferson", if the man's body hadn't already gone rigid, his shoulders bounced up even closer to his ears after Steve's greeting.

In a hurried attempt to smarten up, he completed his attempt of fastening the jewellery pin.

"Mr Rogers", he breathed out almost shakily while pulling a hand through his hair, some of the strands sticking to his scalp while others simply fell forwards once more. "Why do I owe the pleasure?"

Without answering, Steve stepped forwards, forcing the man to open the door wider.

As he walked into the pad, the blonde gazed around it uninterestingly. It was lavish. Probably like most rooms were in the hotel.

"I'm here to talk with you". Steve answered his associates question the second he heard the door closed. Taking the liberty, he sat down in the couch group occupying a vaster portion of the entry room's space. "Sit", with a wave of his hand, the Canine motioned to the sitting place at the other side of the dark oak table.

Jefferson, who glanced warily at the guards that had stationed themselves around the room -one by the window, another two directly behind Steve and the last lingering by the door out to the corridor- had no other choice than to follow the mob boss' directions.

Sitting down at the edge of the seat, he swallowed around the lump in his throat.

"How's business going?" The mob boss asked as he leaned against the couches backrest. One arm was slung over the ridge, fingers tapping against the material, while his other hand rested on his thigh.

"Bussines is going well".

"Good, always nice to hear companies you invest in are going strong", Steve hummed, noticing the minimal shift Jefferson did as he said this. "How's my money going?"

"Ah... t-that question is a little more complicated...".

Even though the brunette continued to ramble about all the different reasons his payments were late, or not even that, non-existing, the Canine boss didn't listen. He knew he was being screwed over by the man opposite him. He'd gotten the information weeks ago that the CEO of the company he's worked with since the beginning of the year wanted to change sides.

At first, it had been more of a rumour and he hadn't been able to dig up where Jefferson's company was heading. Then it became clear they would switch partners to one of the other godfather's around New York. However, even if Steve thought he didn't like how they tried doing so in the shadows while still upholding their deal, the worst thing was when he got to know who they shifted their alliance to. You.

Seeing how much unfavourable publicity you'd given his empire in the last few months was aggravating. However, listening to the man talking his ear off as if Steve hadn't already figured why exactly fifteen percentages of the profit capital was rolling into your account instead of his was the last drop.

Without even noticing it himself, Steve's hand that had rested upon his thigh raised and were tucked into his suit.

The metal handle he gripped wasn't cold anymore, not after having rested so close to his heart for over an hour. Nor did it get cooled down as he hastily pulled it out of its holster and aimed it at the man opposite him.

"I don't like rats, Landon", the use of the man's first name rather than surname would've made him quiet if the gun aimed his way already hadn't silenced him. "Pray you don't get reborn as one in your next life as well".

On the firearm, a silencer was mounted. So the characteristic bang sounded much more like a pop. Therefore, the noise of the gun was even less intimidating than the ricochet. However, neither of the telltale signs of a shot made Steve flinch, not even as he watched the bullet penetrate the space in-between his former associate's eyes, did he react.

As the mob boss stood, Jefferson's upper body slumped forward, hitting the table with a heavy thud and ugly clap as his head was the first thing that connected with it. No tears were trickling down his cheeks. Only a red streak that steadily created a near-invisible puddle on the mahogany table.

"Steve!" The silence and peace Steve found in watching the body was cut short by Bucky's voice.

The Canine glanced to his side, regarding how his head bodyguard rounded the couch and stood before him with one single step.

"What the fuck was that?" The brunette exclaimed, hand motioning to the dead body.

If any other person than Bucky would've done the same thing in this instance, they either would've ended up joining peaceful Mr Jefferson, or they wouldn't work within the Canine empire anymore. However, concerning that it now was his childhood friend staring at him in disbelief, Steve made sure none of the options was carried through.

"Problem-solving", Steve answered, about to take a step forwards but were stopped with a hand planting itself on his chest. He looked down before looking up with a cocked eyebrow.

"That ain't how we solve shit!"

"Not we, but I", Steve said, gripping Bucky's wrist, ripping it away from him. "You see, now both our problems are solved. He doesn't need to fear his cover being blown and I don't need to lose more money". That was all Steve said before taking a step around the brunette, whose eyes had narrowed considerably.

As most of his colleagues trailed after their boss, Bucky stayed back just a second longer, looking at the lifeless body giving a new sheen to the table whilst staining the carpet underneath. He'd known Steve had taken your conference badly and he also knew it hadn't been a good idea to have this appointment so shortly afterwards, especially when it was connected to you, but in such a different way. Still, he hadn't believed it would take this much of a turn.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

"Damn that fucking thing!" Steve roared, not thinking when he swept his hands over his desk. Everything from pencils, an empty coffee cup and other things crashed to the floor. However, it wasn’t solely that which now was littering the ground. The papers of your contract had flown out of the folder as well.

Staring down at the mess of shattered glass and paper from his standing position. The Canine boss felt a sneer enter his features. Ever since returning home late last night, he'd been locked inside his study. Primary because it was the place no one dared to disturb him in, but also because he didn't feel like arguing with Bucky.

He knew that after the stunt, as he knew his friend and bodyguard would label his approach to the Jefferson problem, the brunette wanted to speak with him. Yet, with the residue anger of not only a restless night, one Steve had powered through thanks to copious amounts of coffee. But also the subject now taunting him on the floor, a conversation with his right-hand man would lead nowhere.

He and Bucky didn't often get into fights, but Steve was convinced this was one of the matters that could force such a confrontation. He'd still not gathered his bearings enough to admit that he needed to yield. Because that was what he would need to do.

The mob boss switched from watching the scattered pieces of the contract to instead stare straight into the oaken surface of his desk as he now leant on it, knuckles turning white from how strongly he held the countertop. By now, he'd read through the four-page agreement. Something that was a step in the right, or in Steve's regard wrong, direction.

He didn't want to admit it. But as Bucky had mentioned yesterday, it was a top-certified contract. He couldn't find any loopholes. No grey-zones. No area that he could play you on.

Steve knew that you would be hard to crack, but he hadn't anticipated this.

Despite knowing that you and the Felina empire had overtaken his father's grip on New York, he had underestimated you. A woman running the empire you did was so uncommon he thought you would have some weak spot regarding how you had no one else to look up to. Nor did you have any previous family connections to the underworld. Which honestly made your success even more astonishing. 

Almost so much it was questionable if you had done it yourself.

Steve had assumed you hadn't. Someone else must be the brain behind the operation, simply using you as a puppet. However, it seemed he'd made a tremendous mistake by assuming just that. It wasn't anyone else running your empire. You were involved in every little part of the well-oiled machine.

Once more, the canine boss let out an irritated noise, sounding more like a growl than a harsh sigh in his own ears.

He pushed off from the countertop and, in one motion, had side-stepped his chair. Now, with the room behind him, Steve stared out of the windows lining the wall furthest from the entrance. His arms had crossed over his chest and remained there as he stared out at the bay not far away.

Ferries and other boats travelled the waters. Breaking the tension and creating small waves. If it wasn't for this, it almost would've looked like they travelled through the city. Regarding how not only New York's but also Brooklyn's dusk lightning reflected in the water.

When the Canine boss finally felt the sight before him lessened the tension in his shoulders, a knock came from the door.

If his features ever had lightened, the sound immediately beckoned a furrow to take its place. Even more so when the door opened without him having given the person on the other side permission.

He knew who it was, Bucky.

"What do you want?" Steve's voice was cold, harsh. 

"I want to speak with you", instantly, the mob boss noticed how his friend's voice didn't carry that joyous tone when he spoke to him as just that, friends. Bur rather the more levelled one, the professional one.

"I won't speak about Jefferson".

"Neither is that why I'm here", glancing over his shoulder upon hearing the rustle of paper, the Canine boss saw his guard pick up the pieces of the contract from the floor. He arranged them before putting them back into the folder. Contrary to how Steve would've caused the map to give away a whack when flinging it onto his desk. Bucky's hand followed through the whole movement. His fingers even resting upon the grey folder as it laid placid on the middle of the counter.

"I'm here to talk about the real problem", Steve turned to face the brunette. He didn't say anything. Still, Bucky knew that having gotten this much attention was a sign he either was about to be shot or given a limited amount to talk.

"I know this is hard for you, Steve... actually scratch that, it is hard for everyone who's supported you. But I'll be damned if you let everything we've worked for go to waste because you don't have it in you to lose a battle in favour of winning a later war"

All of a sudden, Bucky's face twisted as an unexpected crash echoed. His fist had smashed onto the table. Enough for the countertop to rattle.

“I love to give you the most personal advice I've ever had”, he started, not even holding back his pent up frustration. “Sign that fucking contract, pal". The canine boss' blue eyes narrowed as he met the stormy grey ones of the man before him.

"Get out", Bucky clenched his jaw and straightened himself.

"I'll be waiting for the call to come and pick it up", was the last thing the brunette said before swiftly turning on his heel and heading to the door.

Steve followed his oldest friend with his eyes until the door echoes shut behind him. Even after Bucky's footsteps were long gone, did the Canine boss stare forward. He did it simply because he didn't want to let his eyes flicker down to the contract, now turned to the last page where the paper waited for his signature.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

A day later, Steve still stared at the folder resting un-signed on his desk. It was out of pure spite he hadn't signed it. To keep your victory at bay.

Two days later and he felt how the clock on his wall ticked louder than before. How the voices in his head escalated from whispering to shouting at him. 'Sign that fucking contract, pal.'

Three days later and Steve felt how time was running out.

Even if he didn't want to admit it aloud. To not sign would be foolish. Sure, he had the resources to continue this war. Hence, the short extra time the meeting and his delay in signing the contract had abled him to recoup. But still, his empire was lacking a significant piece his father's syndicate had, time. He needed more time to grow but wasn't given that. So yes, he could continue this battle, but he could not win it.

Therefore the mob boss gripped the pen and pressed the ink dipped tip to the dotted line.

His signature was darker than usual. More colour bleeding onto the paper. The curves of the letters were not as smooth as regular either. Instead, straighter, pointier. Forced.

Steve didn't look at his name shining back at him once he raised the pen and put it back in its stand. Instead, Steve stood and dialled a number on his phone. One tone was all it took before the person on the other end picked up.

"Get it out of my sight, Barnes", was all he said before instantly hanging up. The call had lasted four seconds. Even so, Steve deleted it from the history of his 'latest' list.

Shoving the phone into his pockets, the blonde man stood from his chair and headed to the office doors. He didn't look back once at the folder left behind on his desk. Not even when he closed the doors behind him.

Series taglist: @njrronaldo7​ @fanfic-love-show​ @gabycamargo22​ @fckdeusername​

[ohgodmyeyes]

Patience

Heavily implied Ferus x Anakin; 6.5k words; T-rated; hurt/comfort. (I really like this one.)

Summary: Anakin's guilt over Darra's death killed his marriage before it even began, and now it's killing him, too.

How many more times can he call on Ferus to clean up his messes for him before Ferus decides he's had enough?

...

"No, Anakin— I can't. I can't do it this time; I'm sorry."

"Ferus, please— sh-she's going to be here with them at noon, a-and—"

"I've already missed three of the last five practices because of this! If they think they can't even trust me to show up to the arena, they'll—"

"I know! I know, okay? But I can't do it by myself, and I don't have anyone else to call."

"Anakin, I told you last time that I can't keep—"

"I won't bother you again! Not after this! Christ, Ferus, please! You know she'll—"

"Fine! Fine, I'll be there in twenty minutes. But you have to promise me this time that you'll—"

"I will! I will; whatever you want! Just— just... hurry, okay? Please?"

"I'm already on my way, Anakin— I'll see you soon."

"O-okay. I'll be waiting."

"I know."

Anakin's phone hit the dusty carpet at his feet, landing with a muted thump. Face-up with its lockscreen lit, he couldn't help but wonder if the device didn't actually intend to mock him with the big, blatant 9:37 am situated prominently in the centre of the display.

He wanted to stand up from the sofa... but no matter how much we willed himself to try, he just couldn't seem to straighten out his legs.

Ferus was going to be furious with him if he couldn't even manage to answer the door when he arrived, and he knew it.

His eyes travelled across the surface of the coffee table in front of him; it was crowded, but his cigarettes and lighter— both bright-blue— stood out clearly, even in the dim light (Anakin nearly always kept his blinds shut). He took a smoke, stuck it in his mouth, and lit it; after that, he reached back over to the table, and picked up something else: A small photograph; wallet-sized, and unframed. One of those ones everybody's parents used to buy from their school every year, and line up on top of the refrigerator or television or fireplace.

This one was of a girl— a happy-looking, mousey-haired, teenage girl.

Anakin bit his lip and turned it over onto its face, because now that he wasn't quite so drunk as he'd been last night, he couldn't bring himself to look at it.

The rest of the table around the picture was littered with loose cigarette butts and miniature bottles of vodka; here and there, a beer can stood tall as if to break up the monotony of the landscape. All of the containers were empty, and all of the butts were burned right down to their melted filters: Anakin hadn't had a good night last night.

The back of the photo wasn't much better than the front, but it was easier not to look at Darra's hand-printed name than it was to try not to look at her face.

I'm sorry— I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.

That's all he ever said to her anymore, whether he was drunk or not; still, he took out that damn picture and laid it out on the table every time he so much as thought of her. Anakin owed Darra that, didn't he?

She'd still be alive, after all, if he hadn't tried to drive her home that night— hammered drunk, and pumped full of adrenaline. He'd only tried it because he was the one who'd dragged her to the stupid graduation party in the first place; he was the one with the car, and the licence. When she'd asked him to get her out of there, desperation writ clear on her face, what else was he supposed to have done?

Anything. Anything else.

He'd ended up wrapping his little red car around a tree that night; Darra had broken her neck flying through the windshield and out onto the pavement, but Anakin had walked away virtually unscathed.

It was almost funny to him that, even all these years later, he still liked to drink.

"Okay," he said out loud, although even he wasn't sure why. Likely, it was intended to be self-motivational; however, Anakin remained just as immobilized after he finished saying it than he had been before.

All he could smell was smoke; smoke, and maybe some old food, although he couldn't begin to guess where he might have left something like that (unless, of course, the kitchen had grown so bad that the stench was wafting in from there). He was clothed, but his clothes were filthy; it was Saturday now, and he'd had them on since about Thursday morning.

...How the hell was it already Saturday, anyway?

Counting like a toddler on a set of shaky, calloused fingers, Anakin tried as he choked back his smoke to recount the past few days in his head. He'd started drinking Thursday evening after work, because he knew he wasn't going to have to go back until Monday; he had known to expect his kids on Saturday, but something had obviously gone wrong, and now—

Now, his living room was littered with garbage and bottles and misplaced items of just about every description, the air in his house was blue with smoke, and he was sure he looked precisely as terrible as he felt.

All that, and his kids were due to be here in less time than it would have taken Ferus to attend his hockey practice, if only he'd made it out the door that morning before Anakin had made his phone buzz.

At least, he thought, Ferus was used to him making his phone buzz.

"Okay," he repeated to himself, after a few more grateful lungfuls of smoke... and this time, he seemed to have a bit more luck with his legs: Stubbing out his cigarette (he even managed to do it in the ashtray), he grunted as he pulled himself to his feet, and reluctantly surveyed the mess in front of him.

Shit.

No— no 'shit'. Ferus is coming, remember?

Even Ferus said he can't keep doing this. Next time—

"Shut up." Anakin was no stranger to arguing with himself. "There won't be a 'next time', alright?" He didn't know if he really believed that or not; all he wanted was for his brain to pipe down.

He kicked at a half-crumpled beer can near his foot on the floor, and when its tinny rattle was all he could hear, he supposed it meant his talking back had worked.

Knock knock.

"Ferus."

Maybe he would be impressed instead of disappointed, Anakin thought— here he was, after all; up on his own two feet. That was better than last time, wasn't it?

...When the hell had Anakin Skywalker become a person who hoped against hope that someone would be 'impressed' with him for getting up and walking ten feet across a room to answer a goddamn door?

"Hey," he started in a near-mechanical fashion, desperate to ignore his own intrusive thoughts. "I really can't thank you enough for—"

"Not this time, Anakin."

Shit. "I— I didn't mean to—"

Ferus breezed right past, before Anakin could get another word in— as soon as there was enough room between himself and the open front door to do so. The first thing he did was wrinkle his nose in response to the rank odour of old smoke and stale food lingering in the air; the second thing he did was survey the space. His face was stony, and his shoulders were squared; to Anakin, he looked almost confrontational.

"At least it's not as bad as it was last time," he observed, even though he knew very well that wasn't saying very much.

Anakin didn't answer to that— what was there to say?

Immediately, Ferus started opening windows: Between the smoke and the acrid stench of whatever was rotting away in the kitchen, he felt he didn't have much of a choice.

"I've told you before," he said as he finished his walk around the perimeter of the room, "that if you're having a hard time, you need to tell her— be honest with her! I know you aren't together anymore, but—"

"If I could tell her about things like this," interrupted Anakin, motioning about at the mess, "then we would still be together. She doesn't understand; all she does is get angry. If she sees the house— sees me— this way, she'll take me right back to court. I... I might not see my kids for months." She hadn't always been so stringent, but over the years, Padmé's patience with Anakin and his struggles had worn thin. She wanted to go to work, raise her children, and see her friends— not babysit her sad, drunk husband.

Now that he was approaching thirty years of age, in fact, no one wanted to do that for Anakin anymore. Few ever did, except for Ferus, and even he'd grown increasingly distant since the start of the most recent spiral: It had all started almost a year ago, with Anakin quitting the hockey team; as far as Ferus could tell, there was still no end to it in sight.

He'd been there for Anakin as much as he could over the years: Sometimes that had been a lot and sometimes it had only been a little, but no matter what, it only ever got harder. Anakin made it that way, whether he meant to or not— like a heavy stone, inexplicably destined to be rolled uphill.

"If you're afraid of not being allowed to see your kids, Anakin..." Ferus trailed off; he sounded just exasperated enough that he knew he didn't need to finish. He didn't want to finish.

"I know," said Anakin, because he did— he did know. Swallowing hard in an effort to forgo the last sticky, useless vestiges of his own ego, he admitted, "I was going to a group, but..."

"But what?" Ferus demanded. Anakin had been in and out of about a dozen 'groups'.

"But... there were too many people. Every time I went to say something, I froze up— and— well, it—"

Ferus interrupted with a heavy sigh. "Whatever, Anakin," he said, with deliberate dismissiveness. "It doesn't matter. You called me here today to clean up for you, right?"

Anakin bit down on his lip. "Y-yeah— but it's not just—"

"Then I'll get cleaning." He walked off in the direction of the kitchen, then. Even though Anakin had only lived in it since his divorce, Ferus was quite familiar with the layout of his home: Again, this wasn't the first time he'd been called to fix things after one of his binges.

Ferus soon discovered (predictably) that the countertop needed as much work as the living room seemed to, if not more; several days worth of barely-picked-at food was stagnating in dishes all over every surface. The stove was near-invisible, and the sink might as well not have existed just then for how much there was stacked up inside of it.

There was a garbage can in the corner, but Ferus could hardly hazard a guess at the last time the bag inside had been changed.

Goddamnit, Anakin.

Ferus tightly clenched his own jaw as he bent to retrieve a big, plastic garbage bag from the cupboard beneath that tragically-overloaded sink; the one he hated that he was likely about to have to clean. He didn't like to be frustrated; not with Anakin, or anyone else— very likely (and somewhat juxtapositionally), his own inherent distaste for those types of feelings were what let him tolerate things like this as well as he did.

There was, however, only so much a person could take— even when that person happened to be Ferus Olin.

Anyway, cleaning Anakin's sink for him time after time didn't seem to be helping him very much. Briefly, Ferus wondered if he shouldn't just leave right then— if it might actually end up being better for Anakin (and everyone else) if his ex-wife were allowed to see for herself just how terribly he seemed to fall to pieces every few weeks.

...That thought, though, left his mind almost as quickly as it had invaded it. Even in the midst of his own irritation, Ferus couldn't bring himself to imagine the pain it would cause Anakin to have his children turned around on a dime, and marched back out to their mother's car on a day they were supposed to have visited.

Garbage bag in hand, he walked back out into the living room. Seeing Anakin standing there was, somehow, jarring; to view him head-to-toe was to be forced to acknowledge just how much of a toll nearly a decade's worth of guilt and grief had taken on him.

He was more pale (ashen, really) than Ferus could ever remember him being; skinnier, too; with dull, greasy hair far longer than anyone who knew Anakin would ever have presumed him to be comfortable with. His face was drawn, and his eyes were red— he didn't look well. It was then that Ferus came to understand that a large part of why he'd been so distant lately was (to his own deep and immediate regret) that Anakin had, quite simply, grown increasingly difficult to lay eyes on at as time had marched on.

It wasn't because he was ugly— no matter what Anakin did to himself, he could never have been ugly— but rather, because he didn't seem 'right'. He didn't seem like Anakin. At the very least, he wasn't who Ferus had come to know him to be, and witnessing his decline was, above all else, painful.

Even right now— from several feet away— Ferus was quite sure he could smell the days of grime that had built up on his body as he'd sat and drank, sprawled out on his gross, old couch.

"You should go upstairs and have a shower," he said, almost certainly more tersely than he actually intended. "I'll start taking care of things down here." That was, after all, how it had worked every other time he'd been called for this.

Anakin nodded, exactly as aware as Ferus of just how badly he needed to scrub himself down. After a brief moment of silent hesitation, he turned on his heel and walked off in the direction of the narrow staircase at the far end of the room. As he did, Ferus watched him; again, it hurt to do: From this angle, Anakin looked too old; almost gaunt beneath his clothes, with lines on his face and even a few subtle streaks of grey in his hair.

...In another way, though, he looked altogether too young: Like he hadn't aged (or, for that matter, grown) since the day he'd killed Darra.

He didn't 'kill' Darra.

He didn't mean to kill her.

By the time Anakin was trudging his way up the stairs (maybe for the first time that week), Ferus was glad not to be facing him.

He knew he shouldn't blame Anakin for what happened that night; he knew nobody else should, either— but it was, to an extent, unavoidable. He did it anyway (although he certainly wasn't the only one), and Anakin was all too aware of it. Her death had driven a silent wedge between them, and their relationship had never quite recovered. Ferus often theorized that it was a large part of why Anakin had run so readily into Padmé's arms after high school.

That endeavour, however well-intended, had always been destined to fail. Anakin had been broken beyond measure by then; too broken, anyway, for a single person to be able to pick up all of the pieces. Ferus had, in essence, left Padmé to do that all alone— was it really any wonder it hadn't worked out for them?

It hadn't all been Ferus' fault, of course, and he did know that, even if he didn't always feel it. Anakin had, frankly, been too young to get married— too young to have babies, and certainly too young to get divorced. Although fatherhood obviously brought him great joy (if it didn't, he would never have embarrassed himself by phoning anyone about this at all), it also took more from him than Ferus sometimes suspected he had to give.

He waited until he heard the shower upstairs begin to squeal before he started loading trash from the table into the bag. He couldn't help but shake his head as he did; the sheer volume of cigarette butts and liquor containers was, to him, patently morbid. Was Anakin trying to die?

He didn't have a right to that, Ferus thought bitterly. Not when he still had his kids; not when he still had people (or, one person, at least) who would come to him when he called. Darra never even got a chance to have anything like that.

Doesn't that mean anything to him?!

In his frustration, Ferus found himself being a bit less careful with what he was grabbing from the table— handfuls of trash went into the bag all at once; bottles and cigarette wrappers and loose bits of all manner of crap. As the dirty, semi-lacquered surface started to become visible again, he almost didn't notice when he happened to pick up something that wasn't garbage.

It was a good thing he did notice— because not only would Anakin never have forgiven Ferus for throwing out one of the only remaining photos of Darra in his possession, it was quite likely that Ferus wouldn't have forgiven himself, either.

"I don't know why you do this to yourself, Anakin," he muttered anyway, setting down the trash bag. He didn't actually look at the photo as he walked it over to a shelf at the edge of the room, and put it up out of harm's way: Why the hell would he have looked at it?

Looking at Darra wasn't going to bring her back.

The shower upstairs was still running; by now, Ferus could smell Anakin's soap as its scent wafted down the stairs. Graciously, it seemed to be helping displace some of the stale smoke that had built up in the living room—encouraging it out the newly-opened windows, and replacing it with something more palatable.

Anakin had been using the same soap for years; the familiarity of it was enough to dissolve Ferus' irritation (for now, at least) while he went back to work on the coffee table. Anyway, if he'd truly been upset with Anakin for this, would he really have shown up to help?

...Maybe.

He supposed that since he was already here, it didn't particularly matter anymore what he'd been feeling when he'd made the decision to show up.

Ferus would rather have been shooting pucks at Tru right now— he and Anakin had once done that together, alongside Ben and a number of other assorted alumni of their local high school; however, Anakin hadn't played hockey for a long time, now. Anyway, Tru hadn't spoken to him in any meaningful capacity since the accident with Darra; likewise, Anakin hadn't been close with Ben for years.

When she died, they had all died— all in their own ways.

Maybe Anakin's death was simply the ugliest. Maybe that was why it stood out.

The shower had stopped by then, and Ferus had moved onto the floor. He knew he couldn't vacuum the carpet until he'd at least picked up a few of the bigger chunks of clothing and garbage scattered about it. He managed to make a bit of progress before he heard Anakin's footsteps; segueing first into the hallway above him, and then starting heavily back down the stairs.

"Why aren't you dressed?" he asked, when Anakin appeared at the threshold of the living room with a towel wrapped around his waist.

"I don't have any clean clothes," he answered simply. He didn't even seem embarrassed to admit it, which somehow made it all the more sad.

Ferus sighed— sighed, and tried not to react to the sight of Anakin clad in a saggy, threadbare strip of terrycloth (it felt like a long time since he'd seen him in just a towel).

"My hockey bag is in my car," he said. "I have clean sweatpants, and a clean shirt in there, too— if you want, you can borrow them."

"I, um— that wouldn't... bother you?" Now Anakin did look ashamed, if only a little bit.

"Of course it wouldn't. We used to share clothes all the time, didn't we?"

Anakin nodded. The two had, in fact, once made quite a habit out of exchanging t-shirts and hoodies. "You, um— you don't mind going to get them, then...?"

"I'll be right back," said Ferus, setting the trash bag down in front of Anakin. "Try to pick up a couple of things while I'm gone, alright?"

"...Alright."

As Ferus walked out to his car, he couldn't help but wonder if the clothes he had in his bag would even fit Anakin properly. For someone who sat around drinking on most of his days off, he was disconcertingly thin; he supposed it must be a consequence of all that prepared-but-uneaten food he'd detected rotting away in the kitchen. He and Anakin had once shared dinners together— lots of them. Before he'd gotten married; sometimes even after that too, if Padmé was busy and her husband was lonely.

Ferus hadn't had dinner with Anakin for almost as long as he'd gone without seeing him in a towel.

Maybe it was something he ought to try again sometime.

"Here," he said, thrusting a soft, mostly-black bundle into Anakin's arms once he'd closed up his car, and made his way back into the house. "Go and put these on— you'll have to tie the pants up tight."

"Thanks," said Anakin. "I'll wash them and give them back; I—"

"Don't worry about it right now, okay? Just go and get dressed. I'll vacuum, and start gathering up laundry; once you've put yourself together, you can help with the kitchen." Ferus started to go back to the mess on the living room floor (there was even a small, dried-up puddle of what looked like vomit near the couch; that would require a bit of extra attention), but paused for a moment before fully turning his back.

"What?" asked Anakin. Of course he had noticed.

"...Nothing," replied Ferus. Anything else he had to say right now would have been inherently distracting; Anakin didn't need that. Anakin needed to get dressed.

"...O-okay," he conceded. "Okay, I... uh, I'll be right back, then." He wanted more than anything to prod Ferus (it had been a long time since the two had spoken meaningfully), but even he knew the time wasn't right— in less than two hours, he had to be a father.

He could always talk to Ferus later on... couldn't he?

It was too late to ask, because Ferus was already back at work filling up that garbage bag.

Anakin, in retreating back upstairs momentarily, found that Ferus' supposition had been correct: The pants were, indeed, too big; pulling the drawstring tight only seemed to do so much to rectify the issue. It made him feel insecure, but insecurity was just another luxury he didn't have time for today. After combing his hair through with his fingers, he tugged the shirt over his head— unable to keep from noticing that it bore the bright, cheerful emblem of the team they both used to play for.

The team whose practice Ferus is missing right now to help your sorry, drunk ass.

"Shut up. Not now."

Okay— but it's true.

The shirt was about as baggy as the pants, but that was alright. Ferus had always been a litter taller than Anakin, and Anakin had always liked clothes he could hide in. Back in high school— before what had happened to Darra; before he'd ever met Padmé— Ferus' hooded sweatshirts had been some of his favourite things to wear.

He probably still had one or two of them laying around, he thought... but his closet was as much a mess as the lower half of his house; he knew he wouldn't have had time to find one of them, even if he'd tried.

Another day, maybe.

Anakin's next descent into the living room was, to his dismay, marked by a brief-but-intense flash of abject terror: It expanded like fresh ice in his gut as he raced against his own angry body to get to the coffee table, whose spotlessly-clean surface was the source of his disconcert.

Ferus had left the room— presumably to go off and get the vacuum cleaner.

Unsure as to whether he was about to vomit or fall down, Anakin gripped the back of the couch.

"She's fine."

"I— I didn't—"

"I put her up on your bookshelf," said Ferus calmly, approaching Anakin where he stood by the sofa, vacuum in hand. "But... you know you should really get a frame for her, right?" If he'd been annoyed with Anakin for dwelling on the photo before, he wasn't anymore.

Anakin didn't look up from the surface of the coffee table. He didn't know why he was surprised that Ferus seemed to understand what he'd been doing— probably, it was because they hadn't talked about it in so damn long.

That made it even more difficult for him to confess to him, "If I put her in a frame, I... I won't be able to see her name anymore."

"...What?"

"Her name— on the back. She wrote it there for me; if I put it in a frame, I won't be able to flip it over and see it whenever I want."

Ferus was only barely successful in fighting his urge to sigh (later on, he'd be glad he had managed). "Why do you want to 'see' it, Anakin?" he asked. Ferus' voice was, inherently, more sharp than it was soft; he'd never been a gentle speaker, necessarily, but he tried hard to be one right now for his friend's sake. He didn't want his exasperation to show— not the full extent of it. "Why do you want to see Darra?"

"I miss her," said Anakin flatly. He sounded just the way he had when he'd answered the door; as though his words were a pre-programmed response to just the kind of question Ferus was posing him.

"You can't beat yourself up over her forever," Ferus pointed out. "You can't keep beating yourself in the head with this, and expecting—"

"Everyone else does."

"That isn't true! You—"

"Yes it is!" Anakin shouted, even though shouting hurt his head. "Tru and Ben both blame me; so do Darra's friends— and her mom and dad, not to mention everyone else we went to school with!" Anakin finally did look up at Ferus, then. "No one treats me normally anymore," he said, "and they haven't for years."

"You barely treat yourself normally anymore, Anakin!" There was that exasperation he'd been trying so hard to tamp down. "No one knows what to do with you; all we can do anymore is stand by and watch you get worse! You don't let us do anything else!"

"Th-this— this is why I stopped going to hockey," croaked Anakin, surprising even himself with the way his voice caught in his throat. He meant to say more, but he couldn't; his chest had already tightened, and his eyes were rapidly filling up with tears.

Ferus regretted saying anything about the picture at all beyond revealing that it was safe; alas, it seemed too late to remedy that. What was he supposed to say now? Anakin hadn't been able to solve this for ten years; Ferus certainly wasn't about to fix it in the span of a few minutes on a single, panicked, hung-over morning.

If he had that particular superpower, he'd have used it a long time ago.

"I— I'm sorry, Anakin," he tried. "I didn't mean—"

He stopped speaking when he realized that it didn't matter what he 'meant'. Anakin couldn't hear him anymore, because Anakin had started to cry.

When was the last time Ferus had seen Anakin cry?

The tears didn't come quietly; rather, Anakin's sobs made him shudder and heave, grateful he was still gripping the back of the sofa with his hand. When he started to double over anyway, he quickly resigned himself to hitting the floor— nothing he hadn't done before; nothing, even, that Ferus hadn't previously witnessed him do.

The confusion that overtook him when his knees failed to impact the carpeted hardwood was almost enough to shock him out of his fit.

Almost.

"Wh-what— what a-are... y-you—"

"Shh."

"F-Ferus, I— I don't—"

"Quiet," Ferus whispered, unafraid of bearing Anakin's entire weight against his chest. If anything, it was too easy to hold him up. "Just be quiet, alright? I'm sorry I said anything— I'm sorry I ever brought it up."

He felt Anakin shake his head ruefully against his breastbone.

"No," he shouted! muffled, into Ferus' shirt. "No, you— you're right; right about everything, a-and I— I—"

Anakin couldn't seem to finish a sentence; Ferus, for his part, dug his fingers into his old friend's back as a wave of conflicting emotions crashed into him: Relief, first, because this was as honest as the two had been with one another in an exceptionally long time; fear, too, because he didn't know where the hell to go from this point. His phone buzzed from inside his pocket— an alarm, he knew, telling him that hockey practice was starting. It made him jump anyway.

"Anakin," he said, taking an inordinately deep breath in an attempt to maintain his own composure. "Anakin, it's eleven o'clock— your kids are going to be—"

"I know! And if I— i-i-if I c-can't even c-clean up for them, th-then—"

"You can clean up for them, though! I've seen you do it; I've helped you do it!" Carefully, Ferus moved to peel Anakin's head away from his chest. He wanted to look at his face, no matter how difficult it was. Something told him he was going to be seeing a lot more of it, in the weeks and months to follow.

Anakin shook his head again, looking up at Ferus through his own wet hair and tears. "No," he protested. "Not this time! I... I just can't— you're right; it's too bad this time, I need—"

"You need to let me help you, Anakin! Not just help you clean; not just help you hide things from Padmé! You'll let me in long enough to do this," he emphasized, daring to take a hand from Anakin to motion at the room around them, "but you always throw me out before I have a chance to even try to figure out what else you need!" He could feel tears of his own, now; they were gathering at the very edges of his eyes, making him angry at himself. "You do that, and then you get mad at me for not understanding!"

"Ferus—"

"How can I understand?!"

"F— Ferus—"

"How can I?!"

Anakin didn't have an answer for Ferus— not then. How was he supposed to help him understand? After so many years of awkward silence and walking on eggshells, how was he supposed to know how to do anything else?

"I... I don't know. I don't know, Ferus— I'm sorry."

Ferus didn't know either... but once again, it had been years and years since he'd felt so close to finding out. He wanted to sit Anakin down and get him talking; in a very big way, this was the perfect time to do it.

...In a much, much bigger way, though, it truly wasn't— and that was because Anakin had more than just himself to worry about these days.

Ferus had been steeling himself against one thing or another for most of his life: He did it against his own long-repressed empathy and affection just then, telling Anakin with an utterly feigned air of authority, "That's fine— that's fine; you don't have to know right now."

Whether he truly understood his choice or not, Ferus had already decided that he wasn't going to leave today just because Anakin's house was clean. That meant they had plenty of time to figure it out together... as long as Anakin would talk to him later.

He hoped Anakin would talk to him later.

"B-but—"

"No," said Ferus. "No buts. Your kitchen is a mess, there's puke to scrape out of your rug, and your kids are on their way— the only thing you need to know right now is how you want them to see their dad when they get here. Do you understand?"

Anakin's stomach clenched, and he found himself having to repress one final, heaving sob before he could will himself to separate entirely from Ferus... who had, by now, been buttressing him for a rather extended period of time.

He did it, though— he did it, and once he was standing under his own power again, he bit down on his lip and nodded.

"I do," he said. "I... I do."

"Good— then go into the kitchen, and start throwing things out while I take care of your carpet. If we don't stop until we're finished, we might just be able to make this place look okay in time for Luke and Leia."

Hearing his kids' names spoken out loud seemed to be the last little spark Anakin needed to ignite his motivation: He came unstuck from the floor, then... that newly-bare coffee table in front of the couch finally having become a source of relief rather than fear.

Darra is as safe as she's ever going to be, his brain reminded him, far more gently than it had told him anything else that day. Leave her, just for now— Ferus is right.

It seemed he really was... because once Anakin started scraping old food into the trash, loading up his dishwasher, and soaking his pots, he felt significantly more capable than he had when he'd woken up. Not better, necessarily... but certainly more apt, if nothing else.

He'd desperately needed the boost of confidence.

"I still don't know how I'm going to be 'on' for them," he confessed, when the two finally met in the living room to survey the house at the tail-end of their mutual cleaning endeavour. Ferus had just ascended from the basement, having loaded some laundry into the washer; Anakin had just put the finishing touches on the kitchen.

"What do you mean 'on'? They're your kids." Driven purely by old instinct, he took Anakin's hand in his; held it tight. It felt as natural as anything.

Anakin didn't pull away, because why would he have? Ferus hadn't held his hand in years; so many that he'd barely realized how much he'd missed it. He also couldn't help but laugh: Ferus didn't understand, because he didn't have children of his own. "That's exactly it," he said. "They are my kids. They're six years old; they're going to want to talk, play, and have fun... and because I was an idiot all week, I still feel too much like shit to be what they need me to be."

Ferus thought.

"...We could take them to a movie together," he offered tentatively. That fake authority he'd been injecting into his voice back before Anakin had begun to come around was all but gone, right along with his own initial desire to leave.

If anything, he was now far more frightened of being sent away than he was at the notion of staying behind to help.

"You can sit in the dark for a little while," he went on, when Anakin didn't answer him right away. "And drink some water, too. I'll do the driving, and the kids will think it's all for fun; by the time we get back here, you'll feel a lot better." With his eyes instead of his mouth, Ferus added to that, If you're as tired as you look, you can even rest your head on my shoulder for a while and try to fall asleep— just like you always used to. Few things had felt better to Ferus, back when he'd still been nineteen.

Anakin was a bit slow sometimes, but he wasn't stupid: He more than understood. Although he smiled, Ferus' offer was nearly enough to start him crying again; the only thing that stopped it was a noise— one that seemed sudden, but really wasn't.

He turned his head, because he could hear the gravel in the driveway crunching beneath the tires of what he already knew to be his ex-wife's little green sedan. (It did not escape him that the sound would never have wafted through the front window so clearly, had Ferus not had the prescience to open it when he'd arrived.)

"...Ferus," he said, voice catching in his throat yet again as somebody outside opened and shut one of the car's doors. "I... I think a movie is a good idea, but I— I... I'm also still sorry for—"

"Don't be." Ferus squeezed Anakin's hand one last time, then released it in favour of motioning towards the front door, as if to usher him in its direction. "You don't have time for 'sorry' right now, remember?"

Anakin nodded. "...Still," he said, grasping the knob, "I know I need to make this up to you, and I will— I promise."

Briefly, Ferus paused to think. "...If you really want to make it up to me," he proposed with an admittedly sly smile, "then you can do it by coming to the game on Wednesday. How does that sound?" He felt especially satisfied with himself, because he knew Anakin didn't have time to argue with him. Besides— during their initial phone conversation, he had promised to do 'anything' in return for Ferus' help.

"I— Ferus, you know I haven't been to the arena in—"

Just then, there was a knock at the door: It was quick and enthusiastic, almost certainly belonging to either Luke or Leia (but probably Luke).

Anakin half-sighed, and— feeling for all intents and purposes as though he didn't have any other options available to him— reluctantly agreed to Ferus' condition. "...Fine," he said, "I'll come by, but I really don't think—"

It didn't matter what Anakin thought, though, because he'd already begun to open the door... and as soon as the gap was wide enough for Luke and Leia to slide in past one another, they did: Calling out greetings to both their dad and to their newly-grinning 'uncle' Ferus beside him— whose presence, of course, they didn't think twice about as they bounded into the freshly-tidied living room, immediately taking it upon themselves to make it their own.

They had no idea what it (or their dad) had looked like mere hours before... and now, thanks to Ferus, they wouldn't have to. All Luke and Leia needed to know about their dad today was that he loved them, and (hockey or no hockey) Ferus was going to make sure that his love for them was all they got to see this weekend.

Anything else he and Anakin needed to worry about, they could worry about it later on— together, the way they always should have.

[katsukithme]

First Aid

Pairing: Katsuki Bakugou x reader

Summary: Your pro hero boyfriend is annoyingly opposed to first aid, and you have to get a little persuasive.

Warnings: Language, suggestive themes, lil bit spicy!! Not smut but like I’m easing into it. Mentions of injury.

Word count: about 1.9k :)

A/N: idek what this is man I am just h word on main for angry blonde firecracker man

**Character is aged up to at least 20**

You've about had it with this man. This absolute stubborn child of a man. If his bottom lip weren't already split, right now you'd be very highly considering doing it yourself.

You both were crowded into your small bathroom in your apartment, first aid supplies strewn across what little counter space you had, a few knocked onto the tile floor. You'd learned very early on in your relationship that keeping a first aid kit on deck was essential to dating Katsuki Bakugou. If only the bastard would sit still so you could actually use it.

It was a feat in and of itself that you managed to get him in here for the first aid in the first place. It was like luring a cat into the bathroom right before a bath. He knew what was coming... and it took bribery of course. But he was here, hips leaning against the edge of the sink, arms crossed over his bare chest as he faces you. You were standing in front of him (conveniently between him and the door), antiseptic in one hand and a bandage in the other, desperately trying to clean the cuts that littered his skin.

"Katsuki, come on! Quit moving around!" You say sternly, trying once again to dab the cloth over the wide gash that reached from his collarbone to his shoulder. It had stopped bleeding a while ago, but it looked pretty gnarly. And you'd be damned if you didn't at least disinfect it.

"I told you, I don't need first aid! I'm not even hurt." He retorts, indignantly avoiding every move you make towards him. Finally you throw down the bandage with a loud groan.

"We do this every time! How many times do I have to tell you? If you don't clean them they could get infected!" You demand, hands on your hips.

"Tch. As if I'd ever let something like that happen to me." He was operating with one singular braincell, you were sure of it. And the braincell was sitting in the 'stubborn asshole' part of Katsuki's brain.

"You- it's not... Jesus christ. It's not something you let happen! It'll only take a minute to clean them up, I promise."

He doesn't seem the least bit convinced, brows drawn together in such a deep scowl. It was exactly the sort of face a mother would scold you for, saying it'd get stuck that way.

Sometimes for him, you really thought it did.

"You said it'd take just a minute last time. And it absolutely fuckin' did not." He gripes and you throw your hands up in exasperation. It was like talking to a brick wall.

"Because you kept moving!" He rolls his eyes and stands up from the counter, pushing past you gently to go towards the door.

"Whatever. I don't need first aid." He growls out. Your hands ball into fists and your face sets into a hard expression. You'd had enough... no more good cop.

Before he turns the door handle you say just one more thing- and it stops him dead in his tracks.

"Bakugou Katsuki, if you don't come over here and sit your ass down so I can treat your wounds, so help me god I won't fuck you for a month."

He freezes, hand still holding the doorknob. He turns slowly to look at you over his shoulder, expecting to find any sort of lie, a trace of a fracturing exterior so he knew you didn't mean it. Instead, all he was met with was a stone cold glare.

He scoffs. "You're bluffing." He tries, and your arms cross over your chest.

"Try me. Go ahead, leave the bathroom. Get used to fucking your hand, it'll be the only action you see."

He was tempted of course to just leave. The odds of you bluffing were pretty high... he wasn't stupid, he knew it was just as much of a punishment for you as it would be for him. But the look in your eyes– it was threatening. Kind of hot, but he'd keep that to himself. The threat of an agonizing dry spell was too risky for him to point that out.

"Fuck. Fine..." he relents. And he takes his hand slowly off the doorknob.

You smirk triumphantly as he trudged slowly back into the bathroom, scowl still set into his face with no signs of leaving any time soon. You take a few steps back, however many the right space would allow so you could direct him. As much as he despised it, your threat had him wrapped around your little finger. More than usual.

You jut out your chin once towards the toilet, which had the lid closed. "Sit, asshole. Lemme fix you up." You say, tone firm but just a little soft around the edges as he finally starts to do as you say.

He plops himself down on the seat with a grumble under his breath, something along the lines of 'this is cruel and unusual punishment, but he sits nonetheless. And he was almost pouting with that expression on his face. It was cute... even if he was acting like an child. You decide to make the ordeal a little sweeter for the man, even if he was being unruly. With antiseptic in one hand and a bandage in the other, you give a soft push to his chest so he'd sit back and make space for you.

It was a cramped sort of space, not super ideal for his comfort or yours. But he always had space for you. He cocks a brow curiously as you move him, but says nothing when he realizes you're going to take a seat. How could he say no? Even he'd admit, he liked having you so close. Even if you're tending to injuries that really weren't that bad.

You straddle his thighs as settle in on his lap, shifting just a little to get comfortable. His hands immediately find your hips, keeping you nice and close. Once he seemed contented enough, you get to work cleaning him up.

It's quiet in the bathroom as you tend to the wounds, the only sounds being that of your first aid ministrations and your mingled breathing. He watches you intently, taking in every little mannerism and facial expression, hands tracing absentminded circles into your hips. His fingertips were barely beneath the hem of your shirt, seeking out the warmth of your bare skin to keep him entertained while you treat his minor injuries.

Finally once most of the scratches and such were taken care of, you turn to the cut on his lip, eyes meeting that intense vermillion gaze. He was uncharacteristically quiet, but you knew it was much more than that.

Katsuki wasn't really a man of words. He didn't express his undying love every five minutes, and you didn't expect him to. Instead he showed it in actions, in unspoken words found shining in his eyes. In a small quirk of his lips when you laugh, or an affectionate eye roll when you do something dumb. Showed it in the way he kissed you. In the way he'd lay you down and give it to you nice and good, just the way you liked.

You lightly dab at the wound on his lip, being careful not to hurt him since it was still pretty fresh. He doesn't seem even slightly fazed.

"Gotta be more careful, and lemme do this for you. Can't have you getting more hurt because you're bein' stubborn." You mumble, averting your eyes from that deep stare to eye the plush of his split bottom lip while you cleaned him up. If you made eye contact any longer, he'd have the satisfaction of making you blush.

He grunts softly, pulling you a little closer on his lap. "I was gonna let you." He mumbles, and it makes you roll your eyes. And his lips quirk up just a bit.

"You were not. You were gonna walk right out that door if I didn't threaten to take away sex." You mumble, and one of his hands starts to trace up your spine, effectively arching you against his chest.

"Maybe. But if I hadn't, you wouldn't be on my lap, would you?" He snarks, but his voice is all soft. You put your first aid supplies down on the counter and turn your eyes back to his once again, and he was grinning. He almost looked smug.

"Ah, shut up. Didn't have to sit here. Did it for you." He snorts in response, strong arms wrapping firmly around your waist.

"Sure you were." He was sarcastic, but his tone was still fond. "You like bein' this close just as much as I do, ass." You wrinkle your nose at him and push at his chest in retaliation, but it only makes him draw you in closer.

"You're the ass. Wouldn't sit still, wouldn't shut up till I said I wouldn't fuck you. Think with your dick, huh?" You tease, and his lips raise in a half playful snarl. Large palms slide over your hips to grab handfuls of your ass, keeping you right up against him.

"Shut the fuck up. You like when I think with my dick. Gets you all hot for me." He mumbles, lips barely brushing yours when he leans in close. You could feel the heat in your cheeks at the comment, spreading to the tips of your ears. He always did know just what to say to get you wrapped around his finger.

"What," he continues, dragging your hips forward against his own and you choke back a gasp. "Suddenly you're all quiet? Bet t's'cause I'm right. But I dunno, maybe I'm just thinking with my dick." You have to struggle not to whine as his hands guide you back and forth across his lap, and by god the friction was going to kill you. Your hands clutch to hard muscled shoulders, aching to gain back some semblance of self control.

But it was hard to keep sane around Katsuki. Damn near impossible.

"Fuck... you..." you breathe, trying to give him a glare but it comes off a little more wanton than you intended. His teeth graze your bottom lip, biting it gently and tugging outward before letting it back into place. His hips cant upwards, rolling into yours as he keeps you rooted firmly in place, and it tears a moan from your lips.

"Yeah? You wanna?" His voice has dipped down dangerously low in his throat, rumbling through his chest and sleeping into your bones. Between the movement of his hips and his mouthing along your jaw you felt as if you were going to combust.

"You're gonna be the death of me..." You can feel that damn shit eating grin against your jaw, and when your eyes meet deep vermillion you know you're a goner. He had you, hook line and sinker.

"Complain all you want, but you're whipped for me," he mumbles, one hand leaving the plush of your ass to cup the back of your neck, dragging you into a kind of kiss that made your toes curl, your knees shake. Hot and heavy, tongue and teeth.

Yeah, you were pretty whipped for Katsuki Bakugou... but he was just as whipped for you.

[multifandom-girlie]

𝐓𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧

Imagine requested by @theshyprincess​: Your his girlfriend and he is trying to train you to be a hunter but the sexual tension becomes too much

Pairings: Jeremy x Reader

Warnings: Smut

Do you know what it's like to have a undeniably good looking, incredibly strong vampire Hunter boyfriend ? No. Well let me explain it. It's like that sweet boy you date in highschool that's had sex alot but still asks if your okay continously all through out having sex with him. Yes it's sweet but it get's a little annoying after a while. That is what me and Jeremy are like. He's the sweetest guy on the earth but he's so overprotective. I mentioned the fact it was a little irritating him being so protective all the time and luckily it went well for me.

4 Months Ago-

“Jer ?”

“Yes baby ?”

“I just wanted to talk.”

“Okay..?”

“It's nothing bad, don't worry.”

“Okay. Stopped worrying, what's up ?”

“You know we promised when we first started dating how we would always be honest with each other about how we felt ? Even if it's how we make eachother feel ?”

“Yes..? Y/N, have I upset you or something ? I'm starting to worry again.”

“Jer, stop..it’s nothing bad. It's just that your really overprotective.”

“Well yeah, I know I'm a little protective over you but that's just cause I love you and I would do anything for you.”

“No Jer, you don't understand. Your too protective, sometimes yes it's very cute. You know when you get protective in front of other men but when you stop me going out the house after certain hours or how I always have too be around you. You literally stand outside the door when I'm peeing. I'm not saying I don't appreciate, I do. It's nice to know someone cares so much, but sometimes it's too much. I need my own space. You know I love being around you but I'm going crazy Jer.”

“That was alot to hear. I'm sorry Y/N but I didn't know I was so bad. It's just I care about you alot and you know why I'm so worried all the time. I'm a Hunter you know I can protect myself, you can't.”

“Well how about we make a deal ?”

“It depends.”

“If you let me have my own space, you know let me hang with people who aren't you all the time and dump my curfew....I will train with you, like you wanted me to months ago. I will activate my Hunter gene.”

“You promise you'll actually train ? Your won't just say this, so you can go for girls night or hang with Stefan ? You will actually train, if I back off a little ?”

“Yes, of course not and yes.”

“Okay. Deal.”

“Deal, I love you Jer !”

Present Time-

So here we were in the woods, getting ready for another session. We’ve been having 4 hour sessions with 3 five minute breaks...everyday for the last 4 months. I'm glad we are sticking to the deal. You know he has backed off, I've been for a year's worth of girl's nights already and me and Stefan even went on a road trip and couple times, without Jeremy. 

The only down side to sticking to the deal though was we weren't really as lovey dovey as usual. We haven't had many dates or movie nights. All our conversations are either us arguing-which although is very rare, it still happens-or it's talking about our sessions or what he's going to train me to do next. Also I think I'm going crazy. I love him for doing all this but god I'm so frustrated. We haven't had sex in 4 months and it's bloody killing me.

I'm just glad that our anniversary is approaching because I'm hoping he will halt for one day. I guess we'll see.

Anyway so last session there was a bit of a problem when we got home yesterday my pants ripped as I was putting them on...so I had to wear an old pair of joggers, let me tell you now it was scorching. It was not good, so after our session I showered and headed to the mall with Caroline. Who helped me find some new gym wear that wouldn't rip because my ass and hips were to big to fit into my bloody pants. I also decided to get a new sports bra aswell because my other ones too tight anyway.

Yesterday-

“How are you and Jeremy then ? Are the sessions going well ?”

“Yeah they are actually but that's the only thing that is.”

“What are you talking about ? Oh sweetie, no, I can smell the frustration all over you.”

“I haven't had sex in 4 months Care.”

“Omg sweetie. Oooo, I know what we can do. Get the sexiest gym wear we can find. See if that will make him lose concentration. If he doesn't even flinch, you need to tell him. There's no way he can look at you and not want to shag you.”

“Shag ? Care I think you've been hanging out at the Mikaelsons too much.”

“Shut up.”

15 minutes later-

“This is perfect !”

Present time- 

I changed into my new outfit I got. I'm going to be so pissed if he doesn't take the fucking hint.

I went outside to the car and we drove off. Jeremy didn't even spare me a glance. God he's lucky if I don't “accidently” punch him today. We got out the car and he immediately go into position. I jogged over. Nothing. 

Obviously I'm not going to make the cut for Baywatch anytime soon.

We walked towards eachother and I threw a punch only for it to be dodged. He grabbed my wrist and span me around so my back was to his chest, I elbowed him and jumped on his back surprising him. He fell on his stomach but lifted himself up, even with me straddled on his back. He flipped so I was on my back and held me down. At this point I knew he was distracted, he could taste the tension just as much as I could but I was determined to win this. So whilst he was admiring how submissive I most likely looked under him.  

With my knees bent, I flattened my feet on the ground. My hand gripped his hips and I thrusted my hips upwards. He flew forward and caught himself by propping his hands up above my head. I still had a tight hold of his hips and I twisted my own, so I could thread my knees in-between his legs. I wrapped my legs around him and rolled us over, so I was now on top.

Now I couldn't hide the smirk on my face, showing I was proud of myself. He had a proud grin on his face, that was the first time getting out from under him-minus in bed-and it wasn’t using a technique he taught me. I just thought it was a logical solution. 

His eyes projecting his admiration and mass of lust into mine. His hands reached up to cup my face and pulled me down into a loving kiss. As I pulled away, he caught sight of my breasts peeping out my bra. I felt one of his hand loosen on my hips and trail up my body. I grabbed his wrist pushed it away and walked to the car. As soon as I was about the open my door, I was grabbed and pushed against the back door behind mine. 

My breath caught in my throat, a little surprised at the action. He leaned down and kissed me on the lips ravenously. I wrapped my arms around his neck whilst one of his were raising my legs from the ground. I clenched them around his waist and tangled my feet together. Now above him a little, I continued to kiss him whilst tugging on the short locks of his mousy hair. 

He still had a strong hold of me as he stepped back and felt around the door for the handle. When he found it he jerked the handle and opened the door with ease. He gently laid me down in the back seats and got in closing the door.

I hoisted myself up and perched on his lap. He leaned in but instead of kissing my swollen lips again he bombarded my neck with sloppy kisses. He directed his mouth to my collar bone and starting sucking slightly aswell as kissing. I threw my head back in pleasure and huffed quietly. He then moved to my boobs and started to kiss the tops of them and down my cleavage before peeling my bra off and circling my nipples with the tip of his younger and gradually enveloping them with his mouth. 

I felt that he wasn't undressed enough for my liking so I lifted his shirt off his body over his head and threw it beside us. I will never get enough of this man's body. Damn. He placed his hands on my ass but a couple seconds later pulled away from my boobs.

“When di-how is it th-woah.”

I giggled a little and started blushing a little. 

“It’s thanks to your workouts.”

He grinned and tugged the waistband of my pants but struggled to slip them off my ass. I pulled them off myself, since I knew he didn't want to break them. He saw my white thong and groaned whilst throwing his head back. I giggled and pulled down the elastic waist shorts he had on. I palmed him through his boxers, earning a slight puff. I smirked and pulled down his boxers, down to his ankles.

I kissed up his thigh closer to his thick cock. A slight breath brushing his member. My lips hovering around the tip of cock and gradually wrapping around them, gently tightening the grip. 

The moisture of my lips making it easier to inhale is big member. The nib of my tongue orbiting the head of his penis and whilst doing so gathering the pre cum, he'd let discharged. I continued this action for a couple of minutes before driving his whole cock down my throat. I did this repeatedly for a minute or so. The head hitting my throat with every jolt.

He was getting closer and closer, I could tell because of the giddy pulsation his cock was performing in my mouth. He couldn't help but nudge his hips in my mouth a little more so I could finish him off. After he started that process my little hand began to pump the base of his cock whilst my tongue was toying with the tip. Instantaneously, a smooth white liquid shot down my throat.

I lifted myself up a bit and let him taste himself on my lips. He ripped the white thong I had on but apologised straight after. I giggled and kissed him lovingly again. I raised myself a little and positioned myself comfortably on top of him. His pink tip stroking my clit in upwards motions before seeking my entrance and slipping himself in.

I bit my lip and threw my head back in pleasure. Whereas his head fell into my chest and groaned. I started to raise myself and rapidly force myself back down again. Once he was fully encased in side of me, I hoisted myself up and forced myself back down getting faster and faster with every movement. 

Steam painting the windows. The heat compelling us to break a sweat. The moans, groans and slapping of skin the single things to be heard for miles. My own pace was becoming moderate, I didn't know how long I could keep going for especially since the work out we did not 15 minutes before.  He could undoubtedly sense that I was lacking energy, most likely because of the early start each morning too. So to murder the sense of guilt he was feeling, he grabbed a tighter hold on my hips and rammed his hips in an upwards motion. Pounding into me relentlessly.

“I’m so close Jer !”

“Go on baby.”

I promptly delivered my juices at a rapid speed. They drizzled down his dense cock and chased his second orgasm down. It didn't take long before he unleashed his orgasm. We sat there for a minute or two.

“I love you Y/N.”

“I love you Jer.”

Nothing could be more perfect in that moment.

Except that was truly wrong. 

No protection.

He didn't pull out.

We are both human.

Shit.

MASTERLIST

[askdracomalfoyofficial]

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𝐢 𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐢 𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐭𝐨 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮

Note: The paragraphs that are in italic are the thoughts he is thinking —

TW: Mild thoughts of killing her. Swearing. Possession. Nothing to serious, but thought I would put this before-hand. Enjoy!

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It all started after I had called you a Mudblood. You see, my father taught me all about blood-status, pure-bloods being the highest form of witch or wizard. Magic comes easy to us, our veins are filled with it. We have control over it. Then theres you, someone who has Muggle parents, making you just that. How you had a outburst of magic is something I'm currently questioning. I can certainly see you being someone who's Drabble around with it, study it in your books.

But my father warned me about people like you. Warned me that your blood is dirty, and anyone whom surrounds themselves around you, or even do much as become friends with you is a blood-traitor.

Anyone under us, we don't care for.

Yet, there was something about you that had always piqued my interest somehow, someway or another. I can't tell you what it is, Granger. But, Merlin… I don't know how you are our Brightest Witch of Her Age became such a thing for a Muggle-born. You and your swatty ways, always raising your bloody hand in class every two, three seconds. Basically… dissecting the answers or things the Professors would teach us. God, how I wished I could cut your hands off, or cast a silencing charm on you so your mouth stops moving, you annoying wrench.

The witch with unruly messy mop on her head. Tame your fucking mane, Granger. Get some tips from Pansy for all I care, maybe then… you'd learn something. But, you're not someone who cares about appearances are you? You're the first girl I know to not. Doesn't surprise me.

He breathes out a sigh.

I bloody fucking hate you. You have no idea. I want to wrap my hands around your throat, and watch the life leave your eyes but not as much as I want to run my fingers through your hair, grab a fistful and yank your head back just to crash my lips onto yours. To make you feel the hate I have for you, to make your lips swollen. To have my tongue vigorously dance with yours, a duel to win. I want to press my lips to your neck, find your pulse and feel it beat against my lips then suck your breath from you. Suffocate in your aroma, to smell your hair and taste the salt of your skin against my tongue.

“For instance… I smell,” she leans her face more over the steam. “Freshly mown grass, and new parchment, and–“ Her words trailed off as she started to realize who it was.

Thinking about it is repulsive, thinking about you, specifically is repulsive. I’m thinking about all this, while you're smelling your Amortentia, and I bet what you're smelling is that daft bimbo, Weaselby.

Ah, the lovely Amortentia. The most powerful love potion that there is. It has a smell for each and every individual according to what attracts them.

Draco adjusts his stance, hands finding a home in the pocket of his trousers. Eyes on her, more so the back of her head, watching while she smells the steam that swirls endlessly up towards her face, and the way her hair grows with the humidity. In a way, it matches the way his had been tousled at his fringe. It looks as if someone had ran their fingers through his own hair and ruffled it up. Hers just looks like straight bed head, yet not taken care of.

His brow raised, looking through his lashes at her.

Weaselby smells like mown grass, well that's quite bloody disgusting. And, you're telling me that's what attracts you?

A scoff slipped out from somewhere in the room, and for a moment he panicked because he knew it came from him the moment Blaise lifted his eyes to look at him with a brow of his own raised. But, Draco's eyes were on the back of her head, which in that moment he regretted because she turned around and automatically met his. Jaw muscles worked as it snapped shut, clenching his teeth together.

Don't look at me like that. Who do you think you are?

Professor Slughorn dismissed the class, he hurried to get his things situated and left the room without so much as a second glance back at his fellow classmates; including her. But he could feel the way that her eyes bored into his back, setting his skin ablaze.

Eventually, Blaise caught up to him. “What was all that back there, mate?”

“What? What do you mean was all that?” He stopped in his tracks, and lifted his eyes to meet Blaise’s but grew uncomfortable and looked away, ah, the stone wall was helping particularly well in this moment.

“Why did you act that way after Granger smelled her Amortenia?”

Merlin! He wasn't going to let this up. Fucking always so observant.

“Because what she smelled was ridiculous.”

“No, what is it really? You can't possibly think I'm that stupid, Draco.” He persisted.

Draco’s eyes gravitated back to him. Jaw tight. “What would you like me to say, Blaise? Is there a specific thing you're expecting me to answer with? Because whatever you're trying to get out of me, isn't there. So, I suggest that you stop while you're ahead.” Was what he left the conversation with.

Blaise, if I told you anything, you'd think that I’ve gone bloody mental, shit, I'm beginning to wonder myself if I did.

All through the years I’ve been watching Hermione Granger, bullying her and her friends because I get amusement out of the looks on their faces. How I know that I piss them off, and I'm good at it. There was once a part of me who loved to watch her cry, to bathe in those tears that fell down her cheeks, those very cheeks I want to grab in my hand and attack her jaw with my lips.

Draco shook his head as if he were trying to dismiss the thoughts, dismiss the way he was feeling and thinking as they weren't quite appropriate.

This year was so utterly fucked. I just want it to be over.

He made his way through the corridors, retreating from Blaise and dipping around the corner. He needed some down time, perhaps the library would do some good. Settle down with a book, in a far corner sounded lovely.

An hour gone by, and he'd been so enveloped in multiple books because he couldn't just decide on one and he needed to distract his mind from the interaction with Blaise, and Hermione interfering his thoughts.

But low and behold, she came into the library. Of course! The know-it-all loved to read just as much as he did.

Oh, you got to be fucking kidding me.

Draco rolled his eyes, clenched his jaw tight and pretended to read but every so often his gaze would lift to where she was. She was huffing loudly, even two exasperated sighs left her mouth. His teeth gritted and the muscle in his jaw worked.

After a couple of moments, perhaps five minutes gone by of her continuing with her loud outbursts of breathing, huffs and sighs he had enough of it all. Draco slammed the book shut, picking up the others and went to return them to their slots. When he was done, he approached her. Shouldering the frame of one of the bookshelves.

“Do you need to be so loud? This is a library for a reason.” His voice was cold, like a cool breeze brushing through the space between them. By the looks of it, he could tell that when he spoke that he had startled her.

She turned around mid-way while pulling out a book. Her chocolate-colored eyes lifted to meet his with a glare. Her head tilted to the side, and a retort was just waiting to leave her mouth. Draco had noticed this when he seen her lips twitch.

“Do you wish for me to apologize to you? Because,” she scoffed, crossing her arms with the book over her chest and under one arm. “You won't be getting it.”

“Who said anything about you apologizing?” His brow raised. “It's the fact that you are in a library, being loud with just your breath.”

Hermione looked around them. “Seems to me like we're the only ones in here, Malfoy. So —” she put the book back and moved down the shelf more, opposite of where he was standing. “I don't really see a problem here, you're just always bothered unless it's you doing something someone doesn't like.” She retorted, rather calmly.

How are you always able to handle your composure when around me. Yes — keep going down the aisle, pretty soon you'll be stuck in that corner.

Draco’s jaw snapped, his throat clicked. He hadn't really observed the room when he came in, but she was right about it being empty and the only ones in there being them. What a situation to be in.

“And you breathing loudly happens to be something that I don't like. I wouldn't be standing here right now if otherwise.” A hand slipped from across his chest, as his index finger lifted from the light fist he held, raising it like he were thinking before taking a step closer, slowly. “I am always bothered by you. Your presence is insufferable. Anywhere I go, I always have to see your face, I'm repulsed by it.”

It's true, I am always bothered by you. You are insufferable, but I am sure I could put you into your place; if you'd let me. I may be repulsed by your face, but I can't help but also like looking at it, at those lips —

She laughed manically, like what he said was the most hilarious thing she'd ever heard, or perhaps she had seen right through him. Hermione stopped what she was doing with the books, what book was she trying to find anyways? Her body shifted, feet angled towards him and arms remained crossed over her chest.

“You're the only one who thinks these things, and quite frankly they do not bother me.”

Man, you are bloody stubborn — not as much as I am.

He stepped closer, a hand coming up to grip onto the edge of the shelf. His own height towering over her own, blocking out the library light from her face. They were now sharing each other's exhaled breathes, and he knew she could feel the way his ghosted along her face. She didn't at all seem bothered by his presence now crowding her, backed into the corner of a bookshelf. He was looming over her.

“They don't bother you?” He asked and his tone dripped sarcasm. She shifted uncomfortably. “Do tell me, what does bother you then?”

“Why would that be something you're curious about? Since when did you care about what bothers me or not?”

Draco smirks, his head turning to the side while his eyes fell to the door of the library. Tongue grazing the bottom of his upper teeth. “You're right,” he turned his head back, glaring down through his lashes. “Why would I care? I don't care for someone of the liking of you.”

With that — he leaned down towards her more, for a moment he looked as though he were going to kiss her. But it was just to give a look of intimidation before his weight pressed into the hand that gripped the shelf to push himself off. Hands finding their way back into his trouser pockets.

I fucking hate you. I fucking hate you so much and you already know that don't you, Granger? Because I make it known, it's all over my face whenever you look at me, whenever we run into each-other. I hate you, yet I want to fucking kiss you, I want to do these things to do you that I, when I was younger couldn't see myself doing. Let alone have never done with a witch before besides Pansy, she always knew how to keep my best interests in mind.

I want to have my hands in your hair, tangled in my fingers and watch as your curled locks fall through. I want my hand around your throat possessively, let my thumb graze along your jaw and down the front of your throat like I'm thirsty for you and just want a little taste.

I want to have your clothes pooled at your feet while my eyes roam your naked canvas, I want to take in every scar, beauty mark, freckle. I want to do it all.

I want to trace the pads of my fingers down your spine, to your tailbone and trail them around to your hips.

I want to do so much to you — I want to possess you.

But then I'm reminded just by looking at you that you're a Muggle witch, and I fucking hate you, you're repulsive and insufferable. A know-it-all swat, who just can't keep her fucking mouth shut.

I'm conflicted, my stomach is in knots and this'll be the one thing that takes me to my very grave.

[pedropascalssimp]

Feisty dala

Boba fett x fem reader

Summary: din djarin and you have been traveling together since you had both met that day you two had discovered Grogu, now on a mission to find a jedi seeing stone, only you find a certain mandalorian who seems to like getting on your nerve.

Warnings: language. Violence. Mentions death. Blood is mentioned. Boba being grumpy. Fluff because Im obsessed with soft old Boba 🤧💕 and lastly (gasps) IT'S LONG!?

No one asked for this I just wrote it because I was bored and finally had free time.

*not my gif*

The razor crest was submerged In silence, Grogu in the seat beside your mandalorian friend while you was in the one behind the little green boy.

The stars whizzing by in white blurs while you simply tap your fingers against the leather chair arm as you boredly look around at the ship. You was told by din to be quiet, your constant talking about various things had irked him, he claimed you couldn't be quiet for even five minutes. ever so eager to prove him wrong you decided to bet on it, telling him that you was capable of being quiet for ten minutes to up the stakes of the bet, so he threw fifty credits on the table and you agreed. But damn was it hard to keep quiet, especially whenever the urge to tease the mandalorian about how he just spoke to his son in a baby voice was so strong.

But you bite your tongue and ignore it, ignore how he puts the ship into autopilot so he can hold Grogu and continue to baby him. "are you hungry kid? You haven't eaten in nearly two hours... Surely you must be hungry little womp rat" din tickles his side making the child giggle. It was then you knew din was purposely trying to make you tease him, trying to make you lose the bet. But you stubborn and determined to win, so you cross your arms and lean back in the seat comfortably.

"lucky for you... I managed to get you some more cookies while we were on Trask, want some?" he asks the green child who nods eagerly, din proceeds to retrieve the promised cookies and soon let's Grogu dig in. Standing up from his seat, his visor falls on you.

"one more minute until the bets up, I'm actually surprised you haven't spoke yet" he said with amusement, watching how you grin at him with a cocky expression. "but I do dread when it's over... Because I'll never be able to shut you up" he jokes while patting your shoulder, walking out of the cockpit to eat you assumed. Once he was gone and the minute was up, you let out a deep sigh, smiling over at Grogu who had cookie crumbs all over his face.

"that man spoils you kid, but judging by the smile on you're face you don't seem to mind" you stand up and plop down in the pilot seat to see Grogu better, "can I have one?" you ask, eyeing a cookie. Grogu looks at you, down at the cookies then sighs deeply before handing you one, as if he was opposed to giving you one. You take it with a grateful nod, saying thanks while munching on the cookie.

The sound of the door opening makes you look back, seeing din walk in and motioning you to get out of his seat, doing so you outstretched a hand, looking at him with a smirk. "I do believe you owe me fifty credits Mando" you enjoyed the huff that escaped his modulater as he practically throws the money at you.

"I hate you, you know that right?" he said, the playful tone giving away his words was nothing but playful banter.

"the feeling is mutual buckethead" you laugh while sitting back in your usual seat, looking at the credits with a proud smirk. "can you believe that you lost to me? That is just so surprising" you sarcastically say, remembering how you always win bets, but din hasn't learnt his lesson on how not to gamble with you.... The muttered curse word's from din only make you laugh more.

"Grogu, remind me next time not to indulge her when she places a dumb bet" Grogu coos and looks out the window, "it won't take long before we land on tython" din announced after a few moments of silence.

"oh maker, everyone prepare yourselves! Mando is about to land the ship!" you giggle after you buckled in, "try and not wreck this time captain" you tease him while you watch him buckle Grogu in.

Whenever his visor falls on you, you can feel the glare fixated on you, burning holes through your head. But you offer him a innocent look. "next words that leave you're mouth will be you're last, because I'm taping you're mouth shut" he spoke while turning back to focus on flying.

"oh, kinky" you joke with a grin. That made him snap his head around.

"what!? No - no I didn't mean like -

"it's just a joke Mando, calm down" you laugh, his stuttering at a simple joke letting you know it embarrassed him. He was definitely a innocent soul, even though his line of work put blood on his hands, he was somehow still a kind person, but damned if you ever got on his bad side, because that's when the cold blooded bounty hunter comes out. Hint why you befriended him that day you and him met, you was after the same bounty, along with a Droid. You, din and the Droid made your way to the bounty and your heart dropped when you saw Grogu, innocent wide eye's looking up at the three of you. The Droid, ever so heartless, was going to kill the kid, but din killed the Droid and you and him made a promise to protect Grogu. From that bloomed your friendship.

"let's just get to this jedi rock thing" din mumbled while you chuckle behind him from your seat. Maker was he clueless about the jedi, you wasn't that educated on them either but knew more about them then him.

Din flies around in search of the right location, green mountains and blue skies a beautiful contrast to what you've usually been seeing lately. Tython wasn't much, but it was still beautiful. You watched with adoring eye's as Grogu looks around with fascinated eye's.

"Looks like that’s the magic rock I’m supposed to take you to down there" din spoke while he slows down to fly around the rock in the middle of a clearing on the mountain. "Sorry, buddy. I can’t land on the top. Too small. We’re gonna have to travel the last stretch with the windows down" you looked out the window at the seeing stone with amazement, it was definitely something new to you. But after a few moments you take in din's words.

"wait, you're gonna use the jetpack? What about me? What am I supposed to do walk?" you questioned while looking at the mandalorian.

"either walk or stay on the ship" he shrugs while finding a place to land, surprising you by how smoothly he landed the razor crest. "me and him will be back after we figure out whatever it is this jedi thing does" he picks Grogu up and holds him tightly while looking down at you. "don't destroy my ship out of boredom, I know how you get when you're bored" he points a finger at you like a dad scolding his kid.

"I'm not gonna destroy you're ship Mando, besides... Now with you gone I can finally take a peaceful nap, you're snoring won't bother me now" you lean back in your seat and spare a glance at his void visor.

"whatever, I gotta get Grogu to the jedi rock thing" he leaves without another word, taking little Grogu with as you sigh. What the hell was you supposed to do? Actually sleep? As much as you really wanted to, you found yourself to wired to sleep, so you stand up and explore the ship, descending the ladder to the cockpit. You look around at everything boredly, finding a crate to seat on while looking over your blaster. It was what felt like hours later, but really more like fifteen minutes, when you heard the landing of another ship, this made you jump up and holster your blaster while opening the ramp of the crest, looking for the mysterious ship you heard. Out in the distance, you spot a ship, it was rusted and old looking from what you could gather, but you didn't see anything. Walking back into the crest while the door closed with a hiss, you grab the com din gave you and activated it.

"Mando is everything okay?" you ask, hoping he'd respond, hell he probably didn't even have his com on him.

Crackling was heard before the sound of din's voice comes in, "yeah...sort of..." he muttered back, making you lift a brow in confusion.

"sort of!? What's happening? Who's ship just landed!?" you rushed out while pacing the floor, worried things might be going south out there while your in this ship doing nothing to help.

Din detected the concern and stress in your voice and sighs, "I'm fine, Grogu is doing his jedi thing and I'm talking with this guy -

"guy!? What guy? What the hell is happening out there din!?" you used his real name making him turn the com off. Great now your clueless as to what is exactly happening while your stuck on this ship. Perfect.

Laying the com down, more like slamming it, you let out a angry huff. Running a hand down your face while deciding if you should stay on the crest or leave. About ready to make your mind up your almost out the door, but before you could open it, the sound of yet more ships landing was heard, that's when you take out your blaster and open the crests door. Walking outside only to spot stormtroopers.

"oh you have to be kidding me!" you angry growl out while spotting din fighting stormtroopers off alongside two other people, din tries making towards Grogu who was at the top of the hill. But of course you can't focus on that now considering a few troopers spot you, rising your blaster up fast you shoot at them, hitting one in the leg while the other in the chest, taking another shot you take the last one out easily.

Running towards the hill while taking out troopers your almost toward din, but a familiar face stops you, "Fennec!?" you ask, looking the woman over, she shoots you a small smile before shooting a trooper who was behind you.

"you sound surprised to see me y/n!" she shoot another trooper while you start aiding her in taking down the damned men.

"well considering the last time I saw you, you was dead" you quickly dodged a blaster shot before looking at her again, "yes, I'm a little surprised to see you" you offer her a smile before parting ways. Trying to help your partner out, but din was already so far up the hill. That's when you spare a glance at the crest and spot a man going inside. This intrigued you and your quick to race back down the hill to see what the hell that was about.

Running inside the ship you hold your blaster up, spotting a older man putting on din's hard earned beskar. "and what do you think you're doing with my friends beskar?" you ask him, looking over his face. Although scarred greatly from what you could only assume a life threatening experience, he was quite handsome. Dark eye's and a ever present scowl on his face.

He hums before looking away and continues putting the beskar on, placing the chest piece on. "this armor belongs to me" he grunts out with a gruff voice, a accent leaking through his voice. It was beautiful, rough but still a sound you find yourself yearning to hear again. "and don't point that thing at me unless you plan on using it princess" he spoke while putting the leg pieces on now.

Holding it more firm you walk closer to him, not liking his attitude. "and who says I won't use it? Now put my friends armor back before I decide to drop you old man" you say, deciding if he wanted to call you princess, something you really didn't mind but hating how it made your heart feel weird, you'd call him old man.

Ignoring you, something that really pissed you off, he places the helmet on and pushes past you. "I knew you wouldn't pull the trigger, now either help take some of these troopers out or stay put princess, wouldn't want you to break a nail" he walks off after that, leaving your blood boiling and jaw clenched.

Oh he was definitely going to pay for that, because you don't let anyone get away with such shit like that. Practically in a fit of rage you help Fennec, asshole, and din take out the troopers, fighting your way back up the hill as you switch between using your blaster and blade. You felt his lingering gaze on you as you fought, but ignored him, to focused on killing those jerks. And finally you succeeded and stood by din as you both watched the other mandalorians shoot the ships that held the remaining, fleeing troopers. The shot hit one ship making it fall and crash into the other.

"nice shot" din said while you roll your eye's and glare at the mandalorian in green chipped and beat armor.

He turns around, visor fixated on you two. "I was aiming for the other one" he spoke and this time you found his beautiful voice annoying.

You hated the man already, yet... Why the hell did he make your belly flip and heart flutter?

Oh maker...at the realization you was falling for the stranger you hate him even more.

It all happened in a blur, one moment Grogu's in his protective blue force field thing, the next his not and some rather lethal looking droids are taking. And the crest? It's gone, blown into dust. You couldn't do anything but watch your friends world crumble before him. No matter what you said it wouldn't make him feel better you knew, but once you heard the anger in his voice and determination, you knew he would stop at nothing to get his son back.

And so that's where you was now, all on the slave I while boba, you found out the assholes name finally, paints his armor, you watched him with crossed arms and a glare. You was still angry from his earlier words and attitude, but also still hypnotized by his face, the scars looked like they had to have been deep painful wounds once upon a time. But his beauty in them was something that really drawn your attention, his dark brown eye's held this new special glent in them as he looks at his armor, painting it with care while the smallest of smiles tugs at his lips whenever his paint brush comes across a certain deep mark or dent in the armor. It was stunning.

But like hell your gonna let his good looks capture you, draw you in like some lovestruck puppy. Because you didn't like him, no, that would just be obserd, idiotic even. He was a smug, grumpy jerk, he was even a bit older then you.... But maker was his voice something else, something you could never tire of.

"like what you see princess?" he spoke up, gruff voice startling you out of your thoughts. Scoffing at him you look away, trying to glare at the wall without letting your blush creep up your cheeks at being caught staring.

"can't say I do" you retort while glaring at him again, his smug amused face making your skin burn with frustration at the man. "and stop calling me that fett, unless you want me to kick you're ass?" you offer him a little smirk this time and he chuckles, focusing back on his work.

"oh, a feisty dala eh?" he doesn't even look up to see your reaction, he didn't even know if you spoke mando'a or not. "I like that" he adds with smug smirk, this time catching the red painting your cheeks.

"I don't even know what the hell dala means" you shake your head and glare at him again, his eye's now glued to yours, the intensity of his eye contact enough to have your skin burning for other reasons besides anger.

"I see you're little boyfriend doesn't teach you his own people's language?" he hoped that din wasn't really your boyfriend, for whenever he said that you was a feisty dala and he liked it, he meant it.

"okay for one thing, that idiot is not my boyfriend, and another no, he hardly even speaks to me unless it's absolutely crucial" you chuckle at the thought and watch how boba let's a little smirk tug at his lips while he works.

"dala means woman, therefore I called you a feisty woman...which you are"

"and you like it?" you tease him with a prideful smirk, standing up and walking over to only sit back down beside him. He looks down at you with confusion and a little skeptical look.

"what are you planning little girl" he grumbled as he puts his paint brush aside and turns his attention on you.

Shrugging you simply gaze up at him, loving how he keeps flickering his gaze over your face, obviously taking in every detail. "well it's kind of boring just sitting around doing nothing so I thought you'd like some help?" you point at the extra brush and his eye's look down at it, then back up at you.

"sure, just don't mess it up" he grunts out while handing you the brush and instructing you what to do. After he explained how he wanted it, you began helping him silently, your mind souly focused on the even slow strokes of the brush, turning the beskar a deep green. While you was lost in painting the man beside you watched with the smallest of smiles, boba found himself lost in the soft expression on your angelic face, the way your brows slightly lift up when you come across a dent, the way your lips slowly tug up when you triumphantly finish and admire your handy work. Boba fett wasn't one for being all sappy or overly lovey dovey. But he couldn't help but note how his eye's was practically glued to you, because he thought you was absolutely beautiful, an angel among the galaxy he had the privilege of meeting. Looking away from you he wipes any trace of affection off his face and starts painting the more detailed red and oranges onto the beskar.

It was ever since that day spent on the older bounty hunters ship, you and him sat and painted in a comfortable silence. And although he seemed like a grumpy and cold person of few words, you couldn't help but enjoy his company. After you had both finished your work you started small talk that soon led to you befriending the man.

Walking into the cantina with boba close by your side and din taking the lead, you follow the man in silver beskar to a table where two mandalorian women sit, eating while their helmets are discarded on the table. As you approached them, they stare up at you, boba and din. The red head eyeing din, the one you knew as bo-katan, having met her back on trask, while her friend simply pays you no mind, the one who's name you have yet to learn, not that you really cared honestly.

"I need you're help" din spoke, bo doesn't bother to look at din.

"Not all Mandalorians are bounty hunters. Some of us serve a higher purpose" she tells him, making you scoff quietly and look away from them, arms crossed across your chest, eye's focused on your shoes. After that you zooned her out, not really caring what she had to say, you wasn't her biggest fan after all, she didn't really make a good first impression.

But when she starts speaking to boba? That's when you really start listening. And at first, although angry, you let her insult slide.

"You are not a Mandalorian"

Not wanting to start a fight with someone din was speaking help from. And then the one you soon discovered to be koska reeves spoke up with a jab.

"I didn’t know sidekicks were allowed to talk"

Making your blood boil, but you bite your tongue and ball your fists up by your side, boba saw you growing angry and that sparked his interest, but din also knew and you could read him like a book, you knew he was pleading you to stay calm, and you honestly tried, but then....

"You are a disgrace to your armor" bo said, while standing up. You instantly scoot closer to boba and the anger was like fire in your eyes as you glared at the red head.

"it belonged to my father" boba spoke, and you remember how he told you the stories of his father jango that one night on his ship, how his eyes would light up fondly at certain memories he told you, that same light turning to a dark look of what one could only describe as grief as he then told that jango was taken from him by the hands of a jedi...you felt sad for boba, wrapping a arm around him, and if it was any other being boba would have chopped their arm off for touching him, but he couldn't deny how nice it felt whenever you held him. Boba grew quite fond of you, that scared him in a way, but he'd be damned if he ever pushed you away, so he embraced the feeling and finds himself falling harder for you each passing day, only hoping you felt the same.

"Don’t you mean your donor?" that hung thick in the air and you couldn't take it anymore. Din noticed that your calm composer had faded into nothing and was replaced by rage.

Pushing past boba you glare at bo-katan and now stand in front of the man, "watch you're tongue bo before I cut it out" you emphasis your threat by retrieving your blade, holding it in your hand casually. Boba smiles beneath the helmet at your words, but din was shaking his head knowing that your threats was never empty.

"this isn't you're place to talk sunshine so why don't you continue being quiet and hiding behind you're Clone friend?" she takes a step closer to you, tempting your patience.

"unless you want you're ass kicked I'd suggest you shut up" you almost growled the words out, your hands twitching to just punch her in the face. You hated the disrespect she was giving boba, he was a tough man, had a tough life ever since his father was taken from him at such a young age, he deserves better then bo-katan and her little friends insults.

"y/n... Not now" din warns in a sad attempt to make you back down. But once bo opens her mouth and let's her words fly out... Din knew there was no way that would happen.

"like you could do anything" she mused while eyeing you. That's what made you throw the first punch with your left hand, the blade you carried still in your right. That made din nervous, he didn't want you to kill the people he was seeking help from. He needed them.

Bo dodged your punch and lands a kick to your leg, almost making you fall but your quick to throw yourself at her and manage to grab both her arms and forcing them behind her back while kicking the backs of her knees causing her to fall, you held the blade against her throat and force her to look at you.

"I do believe you owe my friend an apology" you pant out, having lost your breath during your brawl. Bo glares at you hard, her own pants huffing out from the fight.

"dank farrik y/n! Stop!" din snaps, hand on his blaster making you gap at the man. Boba held his blaster as well but his visor wasn't on you.

"are you seriously going to shoot me?!" you exclaim making him shake his head.

"no but if you haven't noticed there is a blaster held at the back of you're head" he seethes prompting you to peek over your shoulder and spot koska behind you with a blaster. Rolling your eye's you retract your blade from bo's neck and push her forward. She stumbled but soon stands up shooting daggers into your skull. Before you could move past her she punched you in the face making you stumble backwards with a grunt, grabbing your now bleeding nose.

This made boba step forward now, grabbing your arms and ushering closer to din. "I'm sure you can handle the rest by yourself mandalorian, we'll meet at the ship" boba told din before leaving the cantina, hold firm on your upper arm as he practically drags you away.

"you're something else dala, we didn't need you starting a fight" boba tried to scold you, but his amusement was clear as day in his voice.

Scoffing at him you shake your head. "they were disrespecting you, someone needed to put them in their place" you say while your eyes squeezed shut. The pain now slowing creeping up on you, the blood still flowing from your nose.

"that wasn't you're battle to fight, you should have kept you're mouth shut and let me handle it" boba grunts while stopping to look over your nose, it was most likely broken. "does it feel as bad as it looks?" he teased while slowly using his thumb to wipe away the blood, only to have it replaced by more.

"I'd be lying if I said no" you offer him a smile, looking up into his visor void of any signs of those brown eye's.

"well once we're back on the ship I'll fix you up, it's the least I could do after you defended my honor" he muttered and the smirk in his voice was heard. You only smile and start walking, his hold on your arm loosened up, slowly sliding down, past your elbow, fingers covered in leather do to the gloves he wore danced across the skin of your wrist. For a brief moment you thought he'd hold your hand, the thought making your heart flip in a way you've never experienced. But... He drops his hand and instead walks a little bit ahead of you, disappointment setting in deeply in your chest. Perhaps he only saw you as a friend, that thought makes you sigh softly and look at the back of his helmet. Perhaps you was ignorant for thinking a man like him could think more of you then a friend.

Boba wanted to hold your hand through, the mere thought of it appealing to him. But boba fett doesn't hold hands, he doesn't display any sort of affection, especially not publicly like hand holding.

It didn't take long for you both to arrive at his ship, Slave I. Once on the ship your met with Fennec and Cara casually talking amongst each other, both pairs of eyes falling on you and boba. Fennec takes one look at your face and gives boba a lifted brow.

"what happened?" she asks as cara shakes her head, already knowing that you most likely started a fight, you and here having met during a fight against each other along with din actually. She had a smirk and you chuckle at her lowly.

"she couldn't control her temper and feisty nature and it got her a broken nose" boba takes his helmet off and starts looking for his med supplies.

Fennec looks over your nose with a grimace, "it's broken alright. Where's the mandalorian?" she proceeded to ask boba questions as you surprisingly wait patiently for boba to get the med kit.

Finding it he walks back over to you, making you sit on a crate while he kneels in front of you, elbows resting on your knees as he wipes away the blood. The closeness almost made you blush, but you managed to compose yourself.

"he's most likely trying to salvage enough trust from his two friends to help him on his rescue, although this feisty dala here probably stomped that hope out the moment she held a knife to bo-katan's throat" boba explained and now with the helmet off, you could see the proud smile on his face, more like a smirk actually.

"what made you do that?" Cara laughs while cleaning her blaster rifle. Giving you a amused look.

Rolling your eye's you wince when boba starts putting bacta spray on the gash across the bridge of your nose. "they were being rude, so I taught them some manners.... Sort of" you wince again making boba mutter a apology. Cara chuckles and stands up, heading somewhere amongst the ship, Fennec saying something to boba you didn't quite hear as she walks off and out of the hull of the ship as well.

Boba sighs and stands up, adding the bandage to protect your new wound. Then he starts putting away the kit. "you really shouldn't have done that back there princess" he spoke while turning to look at you, arms crossed while leaning against the wall of the ship.

You sigh and start picking at the forming hole in your pants on your knee. You didn't regret what you did, you'd even do it again if it was to ever happen, but you didn't want to look boba in the eye's, you didn't want to see the angry or disappointed look he'd most likely have. So you picked at your pants, "I wasn't just going to sit there and listen to them basically trash talk you boba... You deserve better" you muttered the last part and can't help the little smile that tugs at your lips, you found it quite funny actually, hilarious that you had the upper hand in the fight and almost put her in her place.

"I don't deserve anything" he spoke gruffly. That made you snap your head up to give him a confused look. Eye's taking in every detail and scar on his face, you hated the look in his eye, the sight of self loathing. You stand up quickly and waltz over to the man and ever so cautiously placed a hand on his armored chest.

"you deserve more then what the galaxy has given you boba fett, you deserve a easier life. A damn break for once, from the stories you've told me... I know for sure you deserve only the greatest things in the galaxy. Especially after this" you trail your hand up his chest and ever so gently trace his scar's adorning his face with a look of admiration, a look boba didn't expect to see.

He grasps your wrist and holds your hand against his face. "I've been dealt with some tough obstacles in my life mesh'la, but the galaxy has finally took some pitty on me and gifted me a angel" he whispers gruffly, making sure only your ears heard the sappy words that left his mouth, he'd never live it down if Fennec heard him, she'd tease him up until he finally snapped and either killed her or glued her mouth shut. And have to settle on the last option because he would never kill the woman.

You smile at him, the sight one boba would store away in his mind forever, it was a beautiful sight. "surely you're not talking about me?" you mused, trying to hide the blush but boba saw the slight tent of your cheeks.

"who else would I be talking about?"

"well din is a absolute innocent angel under all that beskar" you joke making boba huff and give you his scowl. "but since you're obviously talking about me -

Boba rolls his eyes at your talking and grabs the back of your head and smashes his lips against yours, making you gasp in surprise but eagerly respond and kiss him back, eye's fluttering close as you cup his jaw now. Chest flush against his as his other hand grasps and squeezes at your hip. You've never felt more intoxicated by anything else in the galaxy then now, the man definitely knew how to kiss, no doubt highly experienced. His lips was chapped but addicting as yours moved against them roughly, his pace he set for the rude interruption of your words, but your not complaining.

That is until he pulls away with a smirk, making you pout up at him. "I don't expect a yes to come after this, but once I help you're mandalorian friend retrieve his kid me and Fennec are going to tatooine... Would you be willing to tag along with me?" he asked lowly, hushed almost as he cradles your face.

"you kiss me like that and expect me to say no? Of course I'm going with you boba, I don't plan on leaving you're side any time soon" you say, gazing up into those brown eye's of his. A smirk tugs at his lips. "who else would defend you're honor?" you add playfully, but a truth was laced in them.

Boba rests his forehead against yours before pulling away. "well then after this little rescue I'll give you enough time to bid you're friends goodbye and we'll make our way to tatooine" he gives you one last peck, it was rare of boba to do so, let his lips gently press against another's with such delicacy, but he liked the feeling of your soft lips in such a way. Almost tempted enough to do it again but you spoke up making him shrug that off for now.

"what are you going to do there?" you ask curiously, catching the smirk on his lips as he hums in thought.

"take what's mine... Perhaps even do what you said, take a little break" he starts walking to the cockpit with you hot on his heels, waiting for din's arrival.

Plopping down in a seat beside him, you lift a curious brow at his words, wondering what it is he'd be taking. But you decide not to pry any more. You'd figure out over time. "do you think bo and her friends will help us?" you stifle a laugh at the memory of the fight.

"if she's smart she'd stay far away from you princess, you had a murderous look in those pretty eye's of yours" he spoke with amusement.

"then she'll help us" you snort at your joke as boba shakes his head. A little blush on your cheeks from his compliment.

"I'm the luckiest man in the galaxy to have found someone like you, my feisty dala" he looks over at you from where he sat in the pilot seat.

It didn't take long after that for din to arrive, announcing bo and her friends would help. Later that night you told din that your and his ways would part as your path was wherever boba leads you. Din agreed with your decision and even felt happy for you, and after saving Grogu and bidding him goodbye as din allowed Luke to take him... You, Fennec and boba made your way to tatooine, where Boba had taken the throne that once belonged to jabba and Fortuna and given you a home. Your relationship bloomed from there and that's when you knew what you felt for him was love....

___________________________________________

[pizzaboat]

After a particular bad storm, Luz and king decide to have a movie night..

It should be fun, but Luz just hopes the two adults joining them don't kill each other in the next 2 hours...

"No way, I'd rather clean Hooty than watch some goofy kids movie"

"But Edaaa!" The teen whined, "There's nothing else to watch, and the storm nocked out all the power!"

Sure the power was out. Courtesy of the terrible weather. The magical grid through out the building had been temporarily shut off for hooty's safety, and so most things in the house had stopped working. But that wasn't a good enough reason for Eda to sacrifice napping time.

Eda watched as the human brought the box containing some human *VHS tape* titled "The Lion king" up to display. 

"Come on Its a classic," Luz pleaded, " and you agreed, after some persuasion-"

- Manipulation." 

"-that you'd do something with me and King," Luz pointed, "And you said I could pick. I pick movie night."

"Hey, I say alot of things. Doesn't make 'em true." Eda said with a shrug, "And don't even try to give me any puppy dog eyes kid, I'm immune now."

Luz pouted, and Eda watched as an idea formed on the girls face. Never a good sign..

"Well," Luz said, "You think your tough, but it'd be a shame if anyone in town found out you secretly like hugs!"

"You wouldn't dare," Eda gasped, "They'd never believe you!"

"Oh really? Try me." Luz challenged.

Damn it. Blackmail. She really was her kid. Eda knew teaching her would come back to bite her in the ass.

"Fine," She sighed, "But if anyone starts singing, I'm out."

"That might be a problem.. since it's a musical,"

Titan damn it.

***

And that's how thirty minutes later everyone was gathered in the living room as Luz stuffed human candies into some contraption and King dragged an assortment of snacks to the sofa, throwing them on the coffee table.

Even Lilith had been dragged out of her cave for the night.

"I didn't know you were interested in this stuff," King said to her sister as she settled in the furthest side of the couch, away from everyone else.

"Of course I'm not," She told him, "This is the only room in the house with sufficient enough lighting to read my book."

"If you say so," He muttered.

Eda plopped down onto the couch, opposite to her;

"Yeah, Lily's a nerd," She yawned, pulling a blanket over her self and settling in, "She doesn't do fun. So don't expect her to thrive in social situations."

"I'm not a nerd!" The other woman glared, " I'm trying to research a cure. For our curses."

"Save it," Eda snorted, "I'm fine the way I am, no thanks to you."

"I split the curse, what more do you want?"

"for you to take some damn accountability." 

"How can I do that if you don't let me!?"

"I don't care, figure it out!"

"OK!" Luz cut in with fake enthusiasm, "The movies starting! Who's excited!?"

Eda snapped her gaze to the teen. The two adults had missed the worried looks both Luz and King had been giving them as things had escalated.

Eda felt a wave of guilt, as Luz wormed her way into her side, deviding the two sisters in the hopes of preventing some all out fist fight, she guessed. Eda wrapped an arm around the girl hugging her back as the movie started and music played.

"Hey king, pass some snacks up," Luz whispered.

 

"Get your own, peasant," He whispered back.

***

Lilith had tried her best to focuse on words of the book infront of her in the flickering candle light, but her gaze always wandered back to the small box set on the coffee table infront of them.

The demon had been scolded multiple times by the other two, as he always managed to sit himself directly infront of the screen every five minutes, completely engrossed in its contents.

Lilith didn't do musicals. She hated them. Always had.

Edalyns loud complaints and groans of annoyance when the characters had broke into song, were more obnoxious than the movie its self.

That was new.. wasn't Edalyn big into musicals back when they both were in school?

The human had sung along to every word, boasting that she knew the lyrics to all the "Disney songs," What ever the hell a Disney was, Lilith didn't know. And she didn't want to find out.

Lilith had also noticed the wary glances the human sent her every now and then, as if she thought Lilith would pounce on them all. Lilith couldn't blame them for that one, so she did her best to keep her gaze anywhere else but the rest of the room, and focused back in on her book.

***

King could sympathise with the young creatures desire to become king and rule over all those bellow him. The young lion was the most relatable main character he'd ever seen. Much better than those characters from Luz's books. 

Someone hungry for status much like himself. Though King was already a king. Feared by all.

He clapped when Simba scratched the hyenas face. These animals names were weird he decided though. Lions. Hyenas. Elephants. The movie had even featured those freaks, the giraffes.

He understood the feeling of helplessness when both Simba and his companions had been trapped In the elephants grave yard, only to be saved by Simba's father Mufasa.

He gasped when he discovered Scar's plan to usurp his brother. Maybe Luz had chosen a good movie after all...

***

The human whiped tears from her eyes, then continued to blubber. King wailed clutching his stuffed animal. Even Edalyn seemed somewhat moved, though she didn't show it much.

The father had died apparently. Betrayed by his brother. Lured into a trap by his trusted sibling. His son used against him as bait.

OK maybe that one hit close to home. Hadn't she lured her sister to a witches duel using their apprentice against them? Seeing the broken form of the betrayed, forced images of what could have happened into Lilith's mind, and she suppressed a shudder.

Edalyn petrified. Luz skewered.

It hit her just how close she had come to getting both her sister and her sister's apprentice killed.

Damn it. She'd lost her page.

***

These guys had the right idea, "Hakuna matata", no worries. If society decides your not worth it, why not atleast relax and try to have a good time with your friends. Screw it. Y'know?

Maybe that's what she would've thought even a month ago. But she wasn't so sure that was such a great message to send kids. Abandon responsibly. She knew predictably that the movie would correct this. She was proved right of course.

***

Luz's excitement bubbled towards the end. She'd seen the movie a thousand times when she was younger. But big confrontations were always exhilarating to watch.

Though less fun when your the one confronting things in real life, that's where the beauty of fiction comes in; She was in the mood to enjoy some nice old fashioned living through fictional characters. No danger. Just movies and her family. And Lilith. She wasn't sure why Lilith was In the owl house. Not because of the storm. Just in general.

Luz would have figured Lilith would have found somewhere to stay by now. But it might be difficult for her, what with the Emperors Coven declaring her a wanted criminal, while the rest of them had been pardoned. A selfish part of Luz wished she'd just leave anyway. Her skin always crawled when the woman was around. 

Luz felt bad about this. But it didn't stop her from occasionally thinking it.

She caught a glimpse of the woman In question, when Scar had been left to be killed by the hyenas. Lilith look paler than what seemed possible with her already ivory complexion. Her gaze fixed on the old mini TV. Was she rooting for Scar or something?

Luz wouldn't be surprised.

***

The villian had recieved what he deserved. To be vanquished by his enimies. 

Lilith felt sick thinking of the similarities between her and the character.

Jealousy. Ambition. Cunning. The will to do what ever it takes. 

She knew they were different. But she couldn't help but wonder what could've happend if she were more like this "Scar" character. 

Titan. She thought this was just a kid's movie.

***

The movie finished. Eda had fallen asleep towards the end only to be gently shaken awake by Luz after. The movie hadn't been bad. She'd even enjoyed it, Eda wouldn't admit that to anyone though. Not in a million years.

Luz said goodnight with a tight, crushing hug, then carried King to bed. The little guy must have conked out at some point into the film. 

Movie night accomplished and no one had even died. A win if ever there was one.

They would clean up in the morning but for now sleep, she made her way to leave as well but was stopped by her sister.

"Edalyn, I think we should talk.."