#ok i love the idea of jack with kids

[rosemaryfuckingwalten]

crass

[miley1442111]

Heyyy!! Would you be interested in writing an angst aaron and bau!reader fic where they're in an established relationship for quite a while now and even have a kid together other than jack. they having relationship problems tho and maybe decided to take some time off their relationship temporarily. so reader takes her and aarons kid in their time off and jack is with aaron. angst where poor jack feels abandoned by reader and thinks she's leaving them cause both the adults are too prideful to talk everything out and make it work. (you can write it however like btw but hopefully with a happy ending 🤞🤍🤍🤍)

i love this idea, sorry i let it sit for so long! only realised i hadn't posted this now :0

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

pinky promises-a.hotchner

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

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

a/n: fem reader but as per usual, imagine what you like :)

summary: how you and aaron worry jack, and how aaron finds something out 20 years later.

pairing: aaron hotchner x reader

warnings: angst, fighting, mentions of divorce, jack being upset, etc.

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

It had been weeks and weeks of pointless fighting. You were exhausted. Aaron was exhausted. 

“What do you want me to say about it Aaron?” You sighed, exasperation running through your bones. 

“I want you to say anything!” He shouted. You felt a wire snap inside you. Aaron never shouted at you. He knew how horrible he was being. He knew how bad you felt. He knew that this was a stupid thing to be fighting about.

“I’m going to my brother’s house, how about that?” You sighed. “Is that what you wanted me to say?” 

Aaron rolled his eyes, irritated at your dramatics. When he came home from one of the worst cases he’d been on for a while, all he’d wanted was to wrap you up in his arms and not let you go. But of course, he had to ruin it by starting an argument. You were 7 months postpartum, he shouldn’t have been picking fights and he knew it. But he was just so irritated. He realised something, he was taking the worst parts of his job home with him again.

“I need a break from it Aaron, alright. I’ll take Marcy and you’ll get some real sleep for a weekend and we’ll calm down and talk on Monday, alright?” 

Some sleep sounded great. Calming down sounded great. Reconciling sounded great. “Alright,” he nodded curtly. 

“Alright,” you sighed. You had never wanted it to come to this. He promised you it wouldn’t come to this. 

Yet it had. 

“I’ll pack a bag for you,” He pressed a soft kiss to your cheek as he started to walk off but you grabbed his hand and kissed it softly.

“I love you. Always,” you reminded him. His heart melted a little bit. 

“I love you too.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------ While you and Aaron were busy fighting, Jack was in his playroom down the hall. He was terrified, you were leaving? You were taking Marcy? 

What would happen to him? He’d already lost his mom, he couldn’t lose you too.

“Honey?” He whispered as you passed the playroom. He’d picked up the habit of calling you ‘honey’ the same way Aaron did. 

“Hey Jackers,” you smiled through the inner monologue running through your head. “Shouldn’t you be in bed?” 

Jack thought this would be his last time with you tucking him in, so he got up immediately and hugged your legs. You chuckled at his antics, unaware of his anxieties, and picked him up in your arms. 

“Can I say goodnight to Marcy?” He asked and you nodded.

“Of course you can, I’ll get your dad as well, we can all say goodnight,” You smiled.

Jack, being the little profiler he was, noticed the way you’d said ‘his dad’ not just ‘dad’. His stomach dropped. He felt sick, the kind of sick he felt before he vomited.  Jack ran into Marcy’s nursery as you went to find Aaron.

“Ok Marcy, I love you, I don’t say it enough,” he whispered into her cot as she slept soundly. “I hope I was a good big brother, you were a great little sister-”

“What are you doing jack?” You asked, worried  and confused by his actions. Aaron stood behind you, his signature frown painted on his face. 

Jack started crying and both you and Aaron ran to him, wrapping him up in your arms. After a few minutes of calming him down, and calming Marcy down after she woke up with Jack crying, you sat on the floor of the nursery beside Aaron as Jack explained. 

“WellIheardyouguysfightingandIknowY/nisgoingawaynowandI’llmissher-” He rushed out but Aaron held up a hand to stop him. 

“Slowly Jack, slowly,” he reminded him and Jack crawled into Aaron’s lap and whispered it to him. 

“I heard you two fighting, and it was like when mom and you used to fight, so I know it means that Y/n and Marcy are going away now, like when you went away and I’m sad because I’ll miss them like I miss mommy,” he sniffled as Aaron’s heart broke. His eyes filled with tears that he forced himself to swallow, the task almost proving too difficult. He looked at you, your head in your hands, you’d heard him too. 

“Jack, your dad and I aren’t breaking up, we’re both just really stressed right now and we thought it would be a good idea to give each other some space. The only reason I’d take Marcy is because I have to breastfeed her,” you explained, your voice breaking. “I love your dad so much, and I love you so much, I could never leave you,” you smiled sadly and took his hand. “Remember the pinky promise I made to you on my wedding day? I meant that.”

Aaron’s ears peaked up as Jack nodded. There was something unspoken about the way that Jack seemed to relax at your words, his entire body lacking any and all tension in mere seconds. 

What was the pinky promise?

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

Aaron walked out of Jack’s bedroom and leant against the door of your bedroom, watching you read your book. When you looked up, you were reminded of a younger Aaron, the one you'd met in college when he was with Haley. You felt awful having a massive crush on one of your friend’s boyfriend so you steered clear of him. Who knew you’d be here now? His wife. The mother to his children. 

“Hey handsome,” you smiled at him. 

“I don’t want space. Please don’t leave,” he asked, not meeting your eyes. 

“Let’s be honest, we both know I wasn’t getting over the threshold of my brother’s place before I ran back,” you smiled. Aaron plunked himself down beside you, lying down and pressing kisses against your neck. 

“I’m sorry I picked a fight,” he sighed.

“Sorry I kept it going,” you whispered, kissing his head. 

“So we're alright?” he asked hopefully.

“Yes, we’re ok,” you chuckled. His hands wrapped around you, pulling himself closer into your comforting embrace. For a few minutes, he tried to read your book alongside you, but his question still nagged, what was the promise?

“You want to know what the promise was, don’t you,” you chuckled.

“Yes,” he admitted, a shy smile on his face.

“Too bad,” you smirked, making him roll his eyes. 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------It was 20 years later that he found out what the promise was, on Jack’s wedding day.

“Now, probably 20 odd years or so, I made a promise to Jack on my wedding day,” you admitted in your speech. Aaron’s interest peaked once more. “I promised him that I would love him and his dad as long as they allowed me to. That as long as Jack wanted me there, I would be. I told him he could call it off at any time, if anything was ever too much for him or if he hated me when he became a teenager. I promised him I’d go without a word of his involvement. I swore that I’d love him until the minute he didn't want me there, and even then that I'd just love him from far away. But I’m so happy you let me stay around Jack, you’ve become quite the amazing person,” you smiled through tears as he held your hand in his, just like he had all those years ago. Aaron’s heart swelled. You’d thought about Jack since day one. When your speech was finished, Aaron pulled you away from the rest of the party to kiss you in the beautiful sunset, the same venue you two had gotten married in. 

He loved you.

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

criminal minds masterlist :)

navigation for my blog :) (criminal minds, obx, the bear, marvel, top gun, the hunger games :)

[sunny-knight]

What Kind Of Monster Was He?

A @forgettable-au fan (colored) animatic

MINOR BLOOD WARNING!

*Was he the kind to do too much, or not enough?

…OK, SO WHAT HAD HAPPENED WAS-

I had planned to finish this into a full fledged animation, but a lot of the parts I did end up finishing just didnt live up to what I imagined…I waited for more motivation to happen, but it just didnt so HERES THE COLORED ANIMATIC CAUSE IM REALLLY HAPPY WITH WHAT I HAVE and ive sat on posting this for like a 2 weeks 😭 which is an eternity in my time

Im gonna post the unfinished “finished” part on my side account @o-sunny-day though! and probably have people yell at me cause it actually isnt that bad AND IT TOTALLY ISNT I just… art. You get it. ENOUGH YAPPING! ITS TIME TO YAP!

except not yet, MORE BACKGROUND INFO HUCDHUC- but its background info on explaining the lore…

The explaining is much less expansive than in Dear My Dear just because I didnt work on it long enough to think every bit of it through. This is just a clean, nicer looking, and colored version of the very first storyboard.

I usually think about and put more effort into the little stuff while making the FINISHED bits since ive had so much more time to think about that in all the preppin n sketching.

BUT I liked the explaining format I did for Dear My Dear so im sticking with it!

The main idea for this was to do a study of Wingdings’ character from what we’ve been given, mainly focusing in on the expectations he puts on himself because holy shit the lyrics for this works so stupidly well it makes me mad LOOK AT THIS???

its ridiculous. i love it. I didnt know Jack Stauber helped write Forgettable AU???? woww!!! ANYWHO thats the gist of it, not much context is needed past that. Onto the sillies!!!! (per usual excuse the shitty quality of the pngs idk why Tumblr does that-)

Did you know love? Will you rest in peace?

Wingdings and Sans holding hands as kids, before turning to a casket like appearance for adult WD. The flowers hes holding are pretty important too, Marigolds to represent grief, Lilys, new life, and Forget Me Nots for this lovely little line I found when looking up good flowers to use-

“a promise to always remember” ….stop that.

That actually also has a double meaning in this case too. 1, ofc the forgetting of Wingdings. But ALSO Wingdings forgetting something himself. Forgetting who he is. Almost like a Zuko ATLA situation.

Did you have a family?

Who knows where theyre parents are, but this is HAPPY TIME and we’re gonna assume they were so awesome and very kind but had to leave or went to a farm in the sky for whatever reason.

The colors here I had a lot of fun with. Their parents had warm colors but the boys have cold, still with warm accents. Its said they more or less raised each other being very independent as shown in the second part with them running out the door by themselves.

How was the view from the shelf? Did you ever believe in yourself?

Before, we started with the beginnings. The good things, the only thing Wingdings cares to even recall. Now we’re seeing his life really start to turn upside down- making first contact with The Player :D

He’s hesitant to reach out, but is intrigued, before getting a rushing revelation of his reality and how it isnt “real”

Rather than feeling crushing existential dread, he more feels pressured to be BETTER, to figure a solution, to do something. Thats what white represents here

WHAT KIND OF MILK WERE YOU?

We then switch to more examples of how Wingdings is taking this pressure (not well) The soft tones of yellow that were shown before, turn to way brighter, intensifying that feeling that he should be fine, he should be happy, drowning in success of being the Royal Scientist.

But he just desperately wants to just go back to a time of nice coldness.

The warm vs cold tones in this I had so much fun with, coldness is supposed to represent hostility usually, while warm is nice and happy. (same with Black and white. Scary, relieving,) But these points often contradict each other, its hard to tell what you’re feeling vs what you’re supposed to be feeling. Just like Wingdings!

WHAT KIND OF LIFE DID YOU LIVE THROUGH?

The white lab coats, the expectations, theyre on all of them. But Wingdings has essentially become his expectations.

He questions what life he wants to live, one being himself and alone (speaking in wingdings) or not himself and with company (speaking in a “normal” font) Still, he frames it in past tense as he believes theres no going back now, based on what he knows.

“One of the last happy moments they had together” stop that. (i cant find a link to when that was said but I know it was once, about them taking a photo together….)

DID YOUR LIFE RUN RICH WITH CALCIUM?

Calcium….bonesss :3 Hehehehdhehfhehehheheheh still dont know why he has holes in his hands so we’re movin on

DID THEY LAUGH AT YOU OR DID YOU LAUGH AT THEM?

Compared to the childhood Wingdings remembered, heres the sadder, bleaker, more realistic version. He always thought they were laughing at him but… maybe they werent.

DAIRY BELOVED. YOUR DAYS ARE GONE,

It doesnt matter now though. Because in the NOW, Wingdings has become consumed by his expectations of himself, seeing this has the “only option” to do the only thing that he feels will give his life meaning and purpose, establishing connection with THE PLAYER

But the grocery list goes on…

And yet life continues on without him, and his room is transformed into a more livable space now that someone is…living in it. Always hurts so much making the differences between Wingdings and Papyrus’ room. It feels like making something out of the man Wingdings COULD HAVE been. Because honestly thats just what Papyrus is,

Thank you to my bestie @fruitytrip for helping me with all of my art in general but especially the storyboarding on this :3 <3

[creepypasta65]

OK BUT HOW WOULD THE CREEPYPASTAS REACT TO PREGNANCY????

I am assuming that they react to their s/o being pregnant. Thanks for the request :)

How would the Creepypasta's react to their s/o being pregnant:

Jeff:

Jeff is terrified and will probably distance himself from you.

He doesn't believe he can be a great father.

Jeff wants you to get rid of that child because the child wouldn't have a good father.

However, he will feel guilty leaving you pregnant with his kid.

He will return to you when you're nearing labor and attend the birth.

Jeff will love the child watching their little fingers grabbing his.

Jeff will try to be involved in his child's life.

Toby:

Toby has mixed feelings. He loves the idea of having his domestic little family, which is normal, but he is also scared about being like his own father and doesn't wish to be his father.

He is so sweet during your pregnancy getting all your midnight cravings, massaging your feet or back, and giving you cuddles.

When it comes to the birth of the child, he is nervous and feels so bad when you're screaming or crying from how painful a child's birth is.

He makes sure you're okay first then his child.

Eyeless Jack:

Jack was hoping that you didn't get pregnant and when he found out he was disappointed.

He did want children when he was a human but now, he doesn't for obvious reasons.

However, Jack will take care of you during your pregnancy.

But when you give birth, he will eat the child out of his demon instincts.

Afterward, Jack feels horrible and will try to confront you, but you left him.

Have a nice day/night :)

[brucewaynehater101]

I have a vent fic wip that I may or may not finish so I just need to tell someone that I am...feeling so many things all the time about the consequences of the 16th birthday but...

primarily, right now, at this moment. without Robin/Bruce, Tim thought he would lose Dick and everyone else he knew through Robin. and then a little bit later when he quit for Jack, he got radio silence for Months until he became a potential victim, and even then it was just Cass stopping in to give the message and be like "I'll watch you to keep you safe 👁️👁️ ok bye" and he had actual Proof that without Robin, he would lose everyone.

and then. Dick "you're my equal (even tho I'm drastically changing your life without your knowledge or permission), you're my closest ally (even tho you don't even have a name to go out in the field to assist me as backup), I need you (even tho, as mentioned, I made a huge decision without your input because I didn't need it because I know best actually)" Grayson.

skipping over the fact that Dick didn't even have the time to say "you're fired" or anything resembling that, when Tim lost "Robin" to Damian, he felt like he lost everything else too. it didn't matter what Dick said about "equals" or "allies" or "needing". he already had Concrete Proof that it was all false. cheap words that are easily disproven do nothing in this situation, Dichard!

(disclaimer: I love and respect Dick Grayson, I just also think Dick Stopped Existing as soon as he made Damian his Robin for the most pathetic stupid illogical risky-ass excuse he could ever give for making anyone Robin (or a vigilante in general). "because he'll kill someone again". who the fuck says that?? who thinks "oh no oh god oh fuck this kid is gonna go off the rails he's gonna kill someone, I need to Put Him In A Place Of Power Over Oblivious Innocent Untrained People Who Are Expecting A Kind And Empathetic Hero To Save Them" hUH???? ok sorry, I just wanted to rant about what Tim "losing Robin" meant)

I agree with ya. Dick Grayson is fantastic, but it seems weird that he nuked his entire relationship with Tim (a very strong one that other fans have referred to them as "The Brothers") for the new kid.

Yes, Damian is a ten year old traumatized kid who just lost the dad he didn't really have the chance to get to know. Yes, Damian needed guidance, boundaries, and compassion.

But DC spent so much time and effort building up Tim and Dick's rapport only to obliterate it once the "blood son" came in (I also love Damian. This is not hate on the kid. This is confused commentary on DC's choices). It's just a strange idea, but that's also why it hurts so much when Dick does that to Tim.

Then you tie in Tim losing Robin by Dick to Tim's experiences before? Fuck. You are so right for that.

As far as the RR run, Dick could've handled Tim believing Bruce a bit better. I don't necessarily blame him for that one. I get why he wasn't supportive in the way Tim wanted, even though I would've chosen differently for my siblings.

Dick taking Robin, though? That was fucked up. I, honest to the gods, do not see how that was a justified course of action. I can understand his perspective, but it's still not okay. At all.

There's your very adequate analysis:

Robin, for Tim, is his tie to his loved ones. He has proof (twice) that without it, he does not have access to the people he cares about and his support system.

Dick said a lot of pretty words about "equals," but his actions were precisely contradictory to his "intentions."

Tim has had Robin taken from him before or had to give it up. He chose to go back despite this. He obviously feels strongly about being Robin

Damian has not proven, at this point, to be trustworthy as a vigilante (someone in power without oversight). He has instead shown use of excessive force

This isn't even going into the way he found out. That's just an extra layer.

The way Tim has repeated lost and regained Robin (even after RR) as well as his title as Red ROBIN are, to me, a sign that he's still trying to hold on. It's my belief that he would have moved onto a new title, like his predecessors, if it hadn't constantly been an unsure role.

His start was rocky as hell due to Bruce not initially wanting it. Tim had to prove himself and put himself into the costume.

He "quit" twice before it was taken from him in a traumatic way (nothing like being instilled with the fear that the position you've held for four years can suddenly be yanked out from under you without warning)

Damian and Jason both vehemently protested to him being Robin

It would make sense if all of these factors combined to Tim's unwillingness or inability to just let Robin go, especially when we factor in his reason to be Robin. Since Bruce never really gets "better" and continually falls back into bad habits, Tim needs to maintain his task of pulling Bruce back from the edge. We could also throw Jean Paul into this to further how Tim is forced to play as the barrier between a grown adult and their desire to harm others in the name of good.

So, Tim's time as Robin is marked by consistent instability while contrasted with his inherent position as Bruce's leash and the batfam fixer. While the other Robins did have times of doubt, the predecessors of Tim did not have the pervasive role insecurity with regards to Robin.

They had their big moment at the end and some smaller moments in-between, but not quite on the continous scale of Tim. Tim had three big moments and was still sucked back into Robin when Damian quit.

To be Robin is to earn Bruce's love and the ability to be part of the Wayne family. To lose Robin is the risk of losing that (at least to the perspectives of the Robins if not 100% the reality).

I'm not sure I'm articulating this accurately. Regardless, no wonder Tim clutches the title of Robin with bleeding hands no matter how much it cuts him and costs him.

[reidreaders]

Your Insta If You Were Dating Spencer Reid Pt. 3

A/N: Requested by @its-jennarose thank u for giving me an excuse to make more lol <3

Part 1 Part 2 Part 4

Liked by babygirlpg, davidrossi, and 136 others

y/n I ❤️ being a passenger princess

View all 17 comments

drreid I ❤️ driving you around!

-> emprentiss you hate driving simp

babygirlpg best BAU coupleeeee

chocthunder he knows how to drive???

-> y/n he literally knows everything

Liked by ssahotchner, emprentiss, and 167 others

y/n can y'all believe this is what I sleep next to every night

View all 23 comments

drreid Why do you have to keep posting pictures of me in bed?

-> y/n ur so cute when ur sleepy 🥰

chocthunder oh Jesus christ

-> emprentiss I second that

babygirlpg you guys need to be nicer in these comments he's cute and you know it

-> drreid Thanks, Penelope. ☺️

Liked by jenniferj, chocthunder, and 179 others

y/n spent our day off having a picnic in the park

View all 20 comments

drreid I had the best day with you.

-> y/n me too spence 😘😘

jenniferj such a cute date idea!

davidrossi Have fun kids!

ssahotchner Glad you were able to enjoy the time off.

Liked by drreid, babygirlpg, and 195 others

y/n coffee date before work!

View all 18 comments

drreid My two favorite things!

emprentiss kind of rude you didn't bring coffee for the rest of us but ok

-> jenniferj so true

-> davidrossi so true

-> y/n Rossi???

-> davidrossi I hate the coffee here okay

Liked by davidrossi, emprentiss, and 147 others

y/n halloween came early!

View all 26 comments

drreid The ren faire was so much fun! Thank you for coming with me.

-> y/n anything for you...

ssahotchner Looks like fun! Jack said he wants to join you next time.

-> drreid He's more than welcome to!

babygirlpg I think true love might be going to a ren faire just bc your bf wants to

-> jenniferj I think you might be right

-> emprentiss well if that's the case, I hope I never find true love

Hope you guys enjoyed this one! My requests are open so lmk what else you wanna see :)

MASTERLIST

[sabrondabrainrot]

Bring back LAES!

I'm steadily making progress on catching up on sun and moon show along with foxy and monty etc etc but it's pretty difficult when one of the main key plot lines is gone. I know a few spoilers thanks to fanfiction but I want to see the drama in person.

Here's some outfit ideas for tsams cause I'm a sucker for fashion and redesigns!

Order is, SolarFlare - Lunar - NewMoon - Old Moon - Sunny (Solar's dimension) - Sun

closeups and more brainrot under the cut!

Explaining my redesigns! Lunar - he's not really a redesign and more so an overdesign. I love adding tons of little details to him to really hammer home his star-ness. He's such an interesting little guy, like yes he acts childish but I can see he's really growing (SAD I CANT WATCH MORE CAUSE THE SHOW IS GONE). I saw the ep he killed Eclipse and homeboy revived. The entire time I was like "Waaahh Lunar??? Waaahhh???" but I love the drama ngl.

SolarFlare - Same as Lunar, not really a redesign I just drew him with no dirt. I really love his base design it's so neat it makes me think of like sci-fi concepts from the 80's. Something from fallout really. I think it's kind of funny Eclipse's aesthetics for SolarFlare when you compare him next to say Jack who Solar designed.

OldMoon - I just wanted to give him a sleek mad scientist cool guy suave vibe. I saw the more recent thumbnails of him with a turtle neck and idk that's just peak character design for me. I'm a simple woman put the dumb-dumb in a dark turtleneck. I want him to kind of look like the BadGuy TM (he's not actually) so he gets all edgy and hard edges and stuff.

NewMoon - I wanted to do a similar color scheme but instead he has lighter colors like more white incorporated into his fit. To give him the whole 'reborn' aesthetic. He's all like "old moon wore black well I wear white now I'm nothing like him so hah!" kinda thinking. I gave his cap a fur texture cause of that one ep he turned into a furry. I drew rounder stuff on him cause he's a big ol' softy sweety pie.

Sunny - Sunny is my headcanon of Sun from Solar's dimension. I think it's really interesting his default with no personality was theater performance and not say...doing daycare stuff? I feel like honoring the FNAF books with this design by leaning heavily into the theater performer look. I like to think in Solar's dimension Sun and Moon were originally made for theater. (so far in the show I've noticed Creator says 'they needed a daycare attendant' something like that so it comes off more like they were intended for the daycare from the start VS. Solar's dimension where Sunny's core seems to be more so for the performing arts.) I also wanted to make Sunny look different from Sun for the extra angst potential of "They're similar but not the same" so I leaned more into a blue palette for him.

Sun - I just wanted to give him big puffy everything. I took away the tutu. nothing against the tutu I just hate drawing the damn thing. I like to think Sun in main has white eyes because he's so burnt out from within. *badum tish* (eyes are the window to the soul-) I also covered him in stickers because he totally would just be covered in stickers from the kids. I also decided to give some of his rays cracks because I think he's extremely sentimental and even in a newly upgraded body (after using star power to defeat Eclipse the first time) he'd keep rays from his original body? I also put the cracks ones on the side of his face where Old Moon hit him. Why? Because it just seems like something Sun would do. I love him so.

Ok just some brainrot stuff, look away to avoid spoilers .

RUIN DESTROYED HOW MANY DIMENSIONS?? SOLARS DEAD. LUNAR KILLED ECLIPSE. DARK SUN IS PLOTTING??? MOON BE CRYING??? Also Francine just had a birthday! ONE OF THE BLOODMOON BOYS ARE DEAD AND SAME WITH ONE OF THE STITCHY BOYS??? HELLO?!?

I love the drama.

Also, I love how every single kid vibe checks Sun and he passes every time. Francine? She loves Sun and learns from him. FC? He ONLY feels safe with Sun for a bit. Barry? He hugged Sun after gonad checking him (a right of passage for the bunny kid). Jack? I'm pretty sure he literally is just one room away from Sun at all times (he also calls Sun's cats his master???). I have yet to see Dazzle, but Dazzle 10000% loves Sun (I've seen the edits).

ALSO? When Lunar was first brought into the family the first person he hugged was Sun and then later on when Earth was in danger he ran into SUN's arms for safety/comfort. They're family your honor.

Sobbing and Crying laying on the floor over Solar's death but I think he'll be back.

Also the molten thing with Ruin? I'm excited to see more.

I don't have a youtube account to post about saving LAES but if anyone wants me to draw more LAES just to help the community please let me know. I'm planning to draw my idea of Earth next.

[brainddeadd]

About damn time

Quinn Hughes x fem!reader

Jack Hughes x fem!reader (platonic), Luke Hughes x fem!reader (platonic)

Warnings: fluff, angst, fan hate, pining, jack calls reader "bub", Jack's a menace, Nico shows up cause he's the loml

~~

You grew up with the Hughes brothers

At two months younger than Jack, you blended in with their tight-knit group

You met the Hughes brothers when you and Jack were 7. He shoved a kid in the playground for being mean to you, even though you were going to let it go, and the rest was history.

Jack became more like a twin than a friend. You two were inseparable. You were the calm to his storm.

Luke worshipped the ground you walked on. Followed you around like a lost puppy, and often, when he was having an off day, you were the only person who could calm him down. His own personal sanctuary from the world.

Quinn was the older, quiet brother who was always polite and friendly, but to anyone on the outside looking in, you guys just didn't work together well. However, they couldn't be more wrong. You quickly became each others solace in the chaos of their lives.

You went to every game you could, wearing the number of whichever brother was playing that time. Always in the stands, you were their biggest supporter, so it wasn't a surprise when you were invited to Quinn's draft.

Politely clapping and cheering with their families, fans started to be critical of your appearance and your actions. Rumours started to spread that you weren't interested in hockey, only wanted the money and fame that came along with being close to the Hughes brothers. They assume you're a bitch, instead of shy.

Jack shuts that shit down.

jackhughes: it has come to my attention that people are being little bitches towards my twin. that stops now.

liked by _quinnhughes, lhughes_06, and others

comments on this post have been disabled

The other brothers repost the pictures to their own instagrams, and the hate dies down slightly. You make a new private, personal instagram.

Jack's draft comes and goes, and you're accepted into the University of British Columbia in Vancouver. Quinn is over the moon but hides it. Jack mopes for 3 days.

Quinn asks you to move in with him while you get settled into Vancouver. He says it's to help you, but Jack and Luke know better.

Fans start to photograph you at Quinn's games, a blank look on your face, and the rumours start up again. You ignore it until they say you're a puck bunny who's fucked your way through the brothers and will move on to other players eventually.

Quinn finds you crying. He can feel his heart break in his chest at the tears streaming down your face and the way your mascara is smudged around your eyes.

_quinnhughes: my best friend. my favourite supporter.

liked by jackhughes, lhughes_06, and others

comments on this post have been disabled

Fans change their tune after Quinn's post, suddenly deciding that they love the idea of you two together. They think his use of "my" was a declaration.

The thought of being Quinn's makes your heart flutter, but you keep quiet.

Little do you know, Quinn feels the same.

Luke gets drafted and goes to New Jersey with Jack, where they're left alone to scheme and form a plan to get their big brother to finally get the girl.

"You sure about this?" Luke asked, his finger overing over the call button on your contact.

"Dude I'm telling you, they just need a lil push in the right direction."

"Uhh, this is more of a check into the boards." Nico's voice chimes from his places on the younger boys' couch.

"Just call her!" Jack ushers Luke away, firing off a text when he hears your voice through the phone.

Jack: yo quinn, is bub ok?

Quinn: yes ? I think ?

Quinn: I'm at practice

Quinn: wait

Quinn: whys she not answering her phone

Jack: idk man

Jack: I can't get through to her

Jack: neither can Luke

Quinn: she's supposed to be at home

Quinn: wait

Jack's phone remains silent for ages until he hears a commotion on the other end of the line from Luke's phone. Quinn's yelling, and Jack winces at the panicked edge to his voice.

"I'm here, Quinny," your voice is soft and gentle, confusion lacing your tone, and Jack can hear the sigh his brother heaves, picture the way his shoulders must fall in relief. "What's wrong?"

Luke chooses that moment to hang up.

"Bro!"

"I don't wanna hear that!"

It's two hours later when Jack receives a text from Quinn. It's a photo of your legs resting on Quinn's, hands entwined. The caption reads:

We've been dating for months dumbass

Jack's offended that neither of you told him and takes it upon himself to get revenge.

jackhughes: you're welcome for shoving the kid when we were 7. without me, you'd never have met.

congrats losers

tagged: yourusername, _quinnhughes

Liked by lhughes_06, _quinnhughes, and others

comments on this post have been disabled

[martincrushcameback]

Haha, stupid <3

adhd run powers and autism focus powers GO. I love that it took three roos before he's like WAIT HUH?

teehee eager Martin bouncies

The immediate slouch to crouch is so fucking cute oh my gods

Also my dad was punched by a kangaroo- Martin would NOT be laughing even if it was a baby that kicked him those things are jacked as fuck.

What am I supposed to do with his deep voice huh WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO it's supposed to be silly

Chris's face here is so good and I don't know why but I LOVE it

"Probably for the same reason I don't want to carry my mom's purse." Is... is it too heavy for you Jimmy? Is her purse full of baby? Does she keep too many weed brownies in there Jimmy???

Someone get an ambulance on standby, Chris is so dead.

Cracked_ribs_incoming.png - I am starting to think that the creature power vests must have built in protective padding or his ribs would be broken like a billion times over by now.

Chris: "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" Martin: "We catch the first bus out of here?" STOP IT I LOVE HIM.

"You ok Mr. Z?" Koki is SO endeared with Jimmy's silly antics and so am I.

Martin being so adhd and more interested in riding inside a kangaroo pouch than getting those keys god what a mood.

Look at him, he's perfect. No thoughts in there only bounce.

Chris about to get the shit beat out of him while Martin is like hippyhoppy happy bouncie boy wheeee!!! is so silly

Teehee smol

Do you think the mama kangaroo thinks Martin is a female because he's blue?

Literally the best screenshot get eagle'd idiot

Why he so smol huh what for <3

OK I GUESS

I feel like.... someone's bones should still be broken.

You WOULD like crazy ideas. The bouncing in this episode is animated so adorably

"It looks like he's trying to dunk him" definitely a kid's show he's actively trying to drown the dingo- oh hey Chris actually said it! They try to drown them holy cow.

I love that Martin has the little joey hunch through the entire episode. I also love that they give up getting the keys and immediately get them back.

GODS I love this episode.

[shogunish]

𝗹𝗮𝘂𝗻𝗱𝗿𝘆 𝗱𝗮𝘆.

pairing. pervy roommate! gojo x f! reader

genre. (implied) friends to lovers, smut

warnings. panty sniffing, gojo jacks off with reader's panties, hair-pulling, pet names (doll, love), loss of virginity, rough sex, unprotected sex, big dick gojo, choking, gojo and reader are in their late teens ok (18 - 19), fingering

words. 6k

summary. satoru always hated laundry day, but now he's quite fond of it. after all, he gets to see all your cute panties and steal a pair for his personal use.

note. i want to use his cum as a face mask and this is the result 👩🏻‍🦯

comments and reblogs are highly appreciated! <3

"Satoru, you're–"

"Handsome, intelligent, charming and funny." A smirk graces Satoru's features and he probably would've flipped his hair if it was any longer. He sends you a cheeky wink as he leans against the kitchen counter, as full of himself as ever as he strikes a pose that would make any girl swoon for him. "Yeah, I know."

Well, any girl but you.

Sometimes, you wonder why you agreed to be Satoru's roommate. Maybe it was the fact that Jujutsu dorms cost so much that you couldn't handle the finances on your own and like the snake in Adam and Eve's garden, Satoru seduced you into this hilarious arrangement.

"I've got the money," he said.

"It'll be fun," he said.

A sigh slips your lips and if it weren't for the laundry basket in your hands, you would've put your palm to your head. This man is the sole cause of all your headaches. "You're doing the laundry today."

And with an echoing smack, you drop the laundry basket in front of his feet with your infamous are-you-kidding-me look.

"Again?!" Satoru pouts as he begrudgingly picks up the basket of dirty laundry and glares at the clothes like they're his sworn enemy, his arch nemesis. "I did them like two weeks ago, right? This counts as roommate abuse, I'm certain!" Is that a whine you hear in his voice?

Crossing your arms over one another, you pop your hip to the side and raise a fine eyebrow at your stupidly handsome roommate. "And I did them last week. It's your turn now, Satoru," your voice is stern as you bend over slightly in an accusing way. "While I signed up to deal with your chaotic ass, you signed up to do the laundry every two weeks!"

The daggers your eyes throw at Satoru make him think twice about dishing out another smart comment, but he can't help it. He thinks you're cute when you glare at him like this, hands on your hips and the hint of your cleavage blessing his Six Eyes. It's the only reason why he winds you up like this.

"Whoa there! If you keep glowering like this, you'll get wrinkles!," Satoru snickers as he dashes into the bathroom before you could cuss him out or toss another piece of laundry at his head. For some reason, you had once managed to toss a pair of his dirty boxers at his head from around the damn corner.

Satoru swears up and down that you put cursed energy into your throw, but you deny all accusations like you're a saint.

"No idea what you're talking about," you smiled.

"Maybe it got possessed by the laundry curse," you said.

He still calls bullshit on your claims.

Satoru finds himself sitting on the cool tiles of the bathroom. It's a little small with the laundry basket by his side, but he'll survive..right?

A bored look settles down on his face as he glances at the laundry, sighs in agony and grabs two articles of clothing, one being white, the other being a bright baby blue. In the back of his head, he can hear you nagging him about something..something seemingly important.

What was it again..?

Ah, right.

"Remember to separate the whites from the colored ones," Satoru mocks you in a high-pitched voice as he disregards your advice with purpose and stuffs your baby blue summer dress into the washing machine along with his snow white dress shirt.

Honestly, what could go wrong? The laundry coming out fresh and clean? Boohoo, what a bummer. It'd be a shame if the two of you had good-smelling clothing. How scary.

Pettily, Satoru tosses the laundry into the washing machine piece after piece. As he reaches the bottom of the laundry basket, interest gleams in his eyes as he spots the couple of bras and panties you hid underneath all the clothing and his underwear (which he always boldly and responsibly puts in the laundry!).

After several months of living together, Satoru has seen your underwear more times than he can count and he wonders why you're still so embarrassed about it. He's seen all your granny panties.

A pair of simple, dark purple panties catch his attention. Nimble fingers are quick to pick them up and Satoru regards them with..intrigue. They're plain and it's obvious you haven't gotten laid yet, but there's a cute little bow at the front. These must be new, he concludes.

Your nude feet are still parading around the kitchen as you diligently clean the space just like the two of you agreed on and it'd take a while for you to finish your part of the deal. Nevertheless, Satoru quietly shuts the door just in case..

"These are cute..," he muses to himself and stretches the fabric with his two index fingers. Lips pursed in thought, brilliant blue eyes scrutinize the panties with a certain glint like he's assessing, judging them over the rim of his pitch black sunglasses.

This is a good pair of panties, but nowhere as cute as the ones with the floral patterns; those are Satoru's personal favorites that are still hidden in his nightstand's drawer. He swears he's no pervert, but he can't help himself!

You're nothing but sweet to Satoru, always offering him the last slice of pizza and taking care of him when he's sick. A cute red hue dusts your cheeks whenever he teases you and oh, the way you stumble over your words when he compliments you! You get so awkward, it's cute.

What does Shoko call you? Ah right, a girlfailure.

Luckily for you, Satoru is very much into the girlfailure he shares the dorm with, although he hides it well behind an exterior of teasing, banter and his natural charm.

Once Satoru is done inspecting your panties, he brings the fabric to his nose and inhales your scent, feeling a little ball of heat form in the pit of his stomach. He gulps down the lump in his throat. There's no scent sweeter than that of your pussy when you got your own panties wet. It's obvious on that little wet patch darkening the fabric a tad bit.

Oh, how adorable you have to be when your little cunt gets excited, soaks your panties and you can't do anything about it.

"Hmm..," Satoru hums in thought before stuffing that certain pair of panties into his pockets. "I'll keep these for research purposes."

It's late at night when Satoru tosses and turns in his bed. It's not the summer heat that makes it hard to fall asleep, but the thought of you. The way you'd show off your legs in those little shorts, your cleavage blessing his glimmering eyes from underneath the top and the way you are..you around him.

All of it gets to him in ways that he could never say out loud or else you'd kick him out in an instant.

"This sucks," Satoru groans and tosses an arm over his eyes, rolling around in self-pity. Who would've guessed that he'd fall for the cute new classmate who has as much of an attitude as he does? Maybe if you weren't like this, he wouldn't be lying on his back, fighting back a raging boner as he thinks about your sweet smile.

Satoru tries ignoring it. He thinks of Yaga's cursed corpses, Shoko calling him a loser for staring at you like a love-struck puppy and the way you felt in his arms when he had to save you from a curse.

He sighs in agony. Enough is enough!

Satoru hooks his fingers into the elastics of his sweatpants and boxers, pulling them down in one swift motion. A wet smack bounces off the walls as his cock springs free and slaps against his abdomen, twitching and throbbing. Satoru groans.

The tip is flushed a pretty shade of red and pre-cum oozes from the slit, pooling on his heated skin. His cock is curved upwards and certainly doesn't lack in thickness or length. A pretty vein runs across the sensitive skin, starting from the base and going all the way up to the flushed tip.

Shit..," Satoru cusses softly and briefly leans his head back against the headboard with a dull thud. Just thinking about you wearing those cute panties, pushing them to the side and sheathing his cock in your tight hole is enough to get him this hard, to get him this eager to fuck you.

But he can't.

You'd likely slap the living daylights out of him.

Satoru wraps your used panties around his hand like he's done many, many times before before he fists his cock. One drag up and another one going down. The soft fabric of your panties rub him just the right way, drawing a deep groan from the depth of his chest.

"Fuck, [Name]..," he breathes out and gradually begins rubbing his cock at a steady pace. "You'll be the death of me.."

Satoru can no longer help himself. His Adam's apple bobs as he gulps, thinking of your cute smile. The way you call out his name, come crawling to him when you need comfort and not to mention you accidentally flashed him your panties when you were up against a curse.

But that's not all. He can only imagine sinking himself into your cunt, stretching you out and making you cry as he fucks you into the mattress. Certainly, he'd leave your greedy pussy leaking of his cum and wanting more until he'd overstimulate himself.

Satoru moves his fist faster and tightens his grip around his cock. Pre-cum stains the dark fabric of your panties that slide along his length so effortlessly, like you've chosen that specific pair just for him to use.

"Crap, just a bit more..," he mumbles, voice thick with a mix of longing and lust alike.

One tight drag upwards, he uses his thumb to massage the swollen head of his cock, squeezing some more pre-cum out. The white essence stains his fist, your used panties and trickles down the length of his cock until the drops pool at his heavy balls.

Would you let him use your hand like that?

Scratch that, why would he cum over your delicate hand when he could fuck your mouth, have tears streaming down your cheeks and cum down your little throat?

Yeah, that seems much better.

"Fuck, yeah.. Just like that.." Satoru's abs twitch in anticipation and his cock twitches in his hands as he gradually speeds up. The scent of your panties invades his nose, making him delirious and clouding his mind. All he can think about is cumming in your pretty panties.

His hips buck up into his fists and he quickly wraps the crotch of your panties around the tip. He's so close he can taste it. "Ah.. Ngh.. Fuck.. Yes, yes, yes!"

The movement of Satoru's fist is messy, almost needy as he finally cums with your name on his tongue. "Ah fuuck, [Name].."

Pearly white cum stains the fabric of your panties and soaks them as Satoru rubs himself through his orgasm, milking himself of every last drop. Groans and moans generously spill from his lips as he thinks of you, your perfect lips wrapped around his tip and swallowing his cum like a good girl.

Sweat trickles down his temple as he comes down from his high, soft huffs escaping his lips. Pulling the panties away from the head of his cock, Satoru stares at the pool of cum like he's entranced.

He wonders if you'd wear those with his cum on them, his seed sticking to your pretty pussy all damn day.

"Shit.." Satoru wants to discard the panties, let them join the laundry basket so you wouldn't notice but when his brilliant blue eyes flutter open, they suddenly meet your gaze.

Your eyes are wide, lips parted and your tongue slides out to wet them. A glimmer of shock swims in your eyes and a hue of red dusts the apples of your cheeks.

All you wanted was to seek out his company since you had trouble sleeping, but when you opened the door just a tiny bit, you suddenly watch Satoru shamelessly jacking himself off with your newest pair of panties. As embarrassed as you are, you cannot deny the throb between your legs or the wetness pooling there.

He looked..pretty when he came.

Satoru groans. "Instead of watching, you could help a guy out, you know?"

"Excuse me..?" Your ears must be deceiving you just like your eyes. Certainly, this has to be a very realistic dream in which you catch Satoru jacking off, but you'd wake up soon, right? You'd wake up and keep this dream to yourself to save yourself from Satoru's onslaught of teasing words.

Clicking his tongue, Satoru sits up on his bed and pets the spot beside him. "You can't sleep, right? C'mere, I'll help you out."

Yes, this definitely has to be a fever dream of yours.

Against your better judgment, you sit down right next to your roommate who still has your panties - which are stained with his cum - in his fist. The mattress dips with your weight and you shyly fold your hands in your lap. You can't bring yourself to look Satoru in the eyes. Not when his cock is out in the open and standing at attention again.

"Look at me," Satoru demands and for a brief second, you do look at him only to bashfully avoid your gaze again. He thinks nothing of it. Grabbing your chin, he makes you look at him and your lips part in shock once more. "What's wrong, hm? You're usually not so..shy," he teases in low, raspy tones.

In the dim light of the little lamp on his nightstand, being dipped in soft orange hues, your eyes glimmer. Words don't come to you easily, your throat feels tight. How the hell are you supposed to react?

"This is..weird," you manage to squeak out and squeeze your eyes shut for a moment.

Satoru looks at you and then down at himself. He must admit that it is quite the entertaining situation with his dick whipped out, but with the way you're not pushing him away, he knows he's got you on the hook. All you need is a little bit of..coaxing.

"It's only weird if you want it to be." Satoru leans in until his lips are on your ear, whispering right into it. His hot breath sends a pleasant tingle down your spine and his lips press a gentle kiss to the shell of your ear. The kissing sound is soft, yet so wet.

"Satoru, you're–"

"Shh, just relax..," he whispers into your ear. Cupping your jaw lovingly, slow kisses travel from your ear to your cheek and end up on your lips. His kiss is firm, slow, yet there's a certain amount of desire laced into it like he wants you to drown in the pleasure along with him.

You hold Satoru's gaze through half-lidded eyes as your lips move in perfect sync; the result of having worked together for several years now. A firework of butterflies goes off within your tummy, sparking a fire and setting the blood within your veins ablaze. You can't fight it anymore.

Not when he kisses you like he loves you.

When Satoru sneaks his tongue past your lips and draws a soft moan from you, he smiles into the kiss. He finally has you where he's been wanting you for so long. You melt into his strong arms and paw at his chest like you want something more from him, but all he does is chuckle at your silent plea.

Breaking the kiss, a thin string of saliva connects your lips to his and your breath comes out in short huffs. Satoru smiles as he sees the hazy look on your face. "That's a good girl," he praises. "In the end, you're just my girl, aren't you?" He's oh-so-gentle when he strokes your cheeks and you swear..you're falling for him. Hard.

You nod your head. "Yes. I'm..your girl."

"Come here." Satoru cups your jaw and pulls you into another kiss, this time sneaking his tongue past your lips. He draws a surprised gasp from your lips, but he pays it little to no mind as you melt into the kiss. Freely, he explores your mouth and shoves his tongue in just a bit deeper.

Your fingers bury themselves in his hair as you let your back down onto the mattress, pulling Satoru down with you. He gets comfortable between your legs and uses one hand to caress the skin of your upper thigh. Oh, you're so soft compared to his calloused hands.

He trails kisses from your jaw down to your neck where he playfully nibbles at the sensitive skin. Frisky lips suckle your skin between his teeth, sucking pretty hues of purple and blue into your skin. Your hands grasp his tee, a pleasured hiss slips your lips. "S-Satoru.."

Satoru smiles. You sound so cute.

But he doesn't stop there. No. Calloused hands grip your waist and Satoru trails his kisses and bites lower towards your collarbone and furrows his brows when he comes into contact with the sorry excuse of a top you're wearing. It irritates him, but he knows just the way to solve it.

"Off with it." With one swift motion, he pulls your top up and off, tossing it into some corner of his room. Sitting up on his knees, brilliant blue eyes drink your body in.

Those rosy cheeks and shimmering eyes, the curve of your collarbone and your perky little tits begging for his attention. Your waist feels just right in his large hands.

Satoru can't help but smirk. "You're a pretty little thing, aren't you?," he muses more to himself than you and before you can say anything, he dips his head low and greedily. sucks your nipple into his mouth.

Arching your back off the mattress, you moan his name in broken syllables. White strands of hair tickle your skin, but that's not even the most distracting thing. It's the way he grabs your tits, gropes them and swirls his tongue around your nipples.

"A-ah, Satoru!" Your hands fly into his hair, tugging at the roots, but Satoru pays you no mind. In fact, he groans in appreciation. "Slow down!," you beg but he skillfully ignores your pleas like always.

"Are they sensitive?" Satoru pulls away from your nipple with a wet pop and smirks as it glistens in his saliva. "They look sensitive." Grabbing a new handful of your tits, he squeezes them harder until you whine, kiss-swollen lips parted and all. You curl your toes and dumbly nod your head. "Of course they are.."

Wrapping his strong arms around your waist, Satoru leans in until his lips brush against the conch of your ear. He gives it a slow, tantalizing lick. "You're so responsive and sensitive. I can't wait to hear you when I sink my cock into you," he whispers into your ear, voice rough and thick with primal lust.

"Then do it," you whine and buck your hips up into his. Your clothed pussy grinds into his cock in delicious ways. You can feel his size through the material and briefly wonder how he's supposed to fit. "Just fuck me already, Toru.."

Your begging catches Satoru off-guard. He blinks at you once, twice before his lips crack into a mischievous smile. "My, my, you're so impatient and demanding for a virgin." It feels like he's mocking you as he's pulling his tee off, revealing his toned abs to your greedy little hands. "I've gotta prep you a bit, doll. Or else you'll whine about how it's too big."

With blazing, fond eyes, Satoru watches you as your hands appreciatively wander from his toned stomach all the way up to his muscled chest. Your gentle touch is enough to leave a burning path behind that makes his muscles twitch underneath the tips of your fingers.

"I would never..," you mumble absent-mindedly, soft palms stroking his flexing biceps all the way down to his forearms. You've seen Satoru shirtless countless times and yet, you never quite realized just how..built he really is. It's about damn time you appreciate him, right?

"Oh baby.. Yes, you would.." Satoru grabs your hand and presses a kiss to the center of your palm before guiding it to the elastic of his shorts and boxers, encouraging you to pull them off completely.

You take a steady breath through your nose and hold his gaze while pulling off the rest of his clothes, tossing them away like he did earlier. For a moment, you don't dare to look any lower than his mesmerizing eyes. It felt..indecent, but isn't that the fun part?

"There we go," Satoru snickers once the remaining clothes are off your body and on his bedroom floor. He's shameless as he grabs your knees and forces your legs open to stare at your leaking cunt. The lips are glossy and sticky with arousal. If he looks closely, he can see your tight walls fluttering around nothing. "Fuck..gonna loosen you up a bit first, okay? It'll feel good, trust me."

"Y-yes.." You nod your head, voice barely above a whisper.

Satoru kneels in-between your legs and uses his fingers to spread your pussy lips open. Long fingers massage your messy lips to get you used to the feeling, steadily rubbing them up and down before his fingers go to brush your clit.

"Ah!" You curl in on yourself, your thighs want to squeeze shut but are stopped by Satoru's slim waist. "Satoru, that's–!"

"Good, isn't it?" He finishes your sentence with a smug expression on his face and cocks his head to the side as he watches you squirm. His thumb teases your clit in slow circles, playfully flicking the nub a few times until you're moaning his name. Oh, Satoru's having way too much fun touching you like this.

"Yes, yes! O-oh!" Your eyes go wide as Satoru lathers his fingers in your essence and glides his middle finger down to your entrance, slowly sliding it into your tight cunt. "It feels..funny.."

Satoru laughs. It's loud and melodious and makes you blush deeply. "Don't worry. You'll feel good in a moment. Just relax and enjoy it, doll."

Gently, Satoru curves his finger upwards and thrusts it in and out of your cunt. The initial uncertainness on your face morphs into pleasure and your head drops back into the pillows. Soft moans and sighs spill from your lips, your legs fall open. Pleasure begins to cloud your mind.

"Good girl," he praises you and lowers himself on top of you to press a kiss to your cheek. "All you have to do is take my fingers one by..," Satoru trails off and eases his ring finger into your cunt, gently rubbing that sweet spot within you. "..one."

"Ngh..ah..oh god.." You dig your fingers into the sheets below and arch your back, pressing your tits flush against his hard chest. With twitching thighs, you grind your hips into Satoru's skilled fingers and moan your praises right into his ear. "More.. Need more.."

"You're still a bit too tight for my cock, love," Satoru chuckles as he picks up the pace, fingerling your little pussy in scissoring motions. "I don't wanna see you cry about it..yet."

Each time he drills his fingers into you, his skin smacks against yours, making your hole squelch embarrassingly loud. Moans and whimpers spill from your lips as Satoru effortlessly pokes that sweet spot that you could never reach. Excitedly, your walls flutter around his fingers, sucking them in deeper and welcoming his index finger.

The stretch burns in delicious ways as he spreads his fingers a bit, making sure to spread you a bit before he'd fuck you.

"There we go," Satoru murmurs once you can take all three of his fingers and your juices drip onto the sheets. The smile gracing his lips almost seems to be one of pride. "Think you can take me yet, doll?"

Hastily, you nod your head. "Yes, please! I want you so bad, Toru.."

Satisfied with your answer, Satoru slowly pulls his fingers from your pussy, a thin string of arousal following the tips of his fingers. Your juices are webbed between his fingers and he can't help but admire it for a moment before licking his fingers clean.

"Mhh..I can't wait to put my mouth on you next time," Satoru muses as your taste clouds his taste buds. But where's the fun when he's the only one tasting your juices? With a smirk, he pries your lips open and slides his fingers into your mouth. "Go on. Taste yourself."

A soft expression falls over your face as you wrap your tongue around Satoru's fingers and suck on them. The taste of your cunt has you flushing from your chest up. This is filthy, something you've never even thought of doing, but with Satoru..you'd nearly do everything he demands of you. And so you eagerly suck his fingers clean with a little moan.

Once he's certain you've done your job right, Satoru pulls his fingers out of your mouth and absent-mindedly wipes them dry on the sheets. Wrapping his arms around your waist, he pulls your body flush to his and pushes you into the mattress with his weight. His breath fans across your cheeks.

"This might sting a bit, doll. But you'll get used to it, yeah?," he assures you. Although he appears so composed and level-headed, one glance towards his cock is enough to let you know that he's just as impatient as you are.

Your eyes fall back to his and you wrap your arms around his neck. "It's okay..I can take it."

Satoru smiles and locks your lips with his as he swiftly thrusts his hips against yours, sheathing his cock within your tight walls. It's a messy kiss; you whine into his mouth as he stretches your cunt out and slowly goes deeper, deeper, deeper. Your nails are buried in his scalp, pulling at his hair and your breath comes out in pathetic huffs.

Once he's balls deep in your pussy, Satoru breaks the excuse of a kiss and rests his forehead on your own, composing himself. A steady huff slips his lips as he tries his best to keep still. "Fuck.. I loosened you up and you're still so fucking tight," he groans.

Satoru's words send a shiver down your spine and your walls seem to suck him in a bit deeper. "Shit.. You're b-big..," you say, voice a bit high-pitched but sugary sweet.

He laughs, gently. That's the sort of ego boost someone like Gojo Satoru definitely doesn't need. "I told you it'd be a tight fit."

Large palms caress your thighs and hips while he's peppering kisses up and down your neck. "Tell me when I can move, doll.."

For a moment, you bask in the attention Satoru so generously provides you with. Little kisses, gentle caresses and sweet nothings whispered in your ear. The pain of the stretch slowly ebbs away and you nod your head. "Move, Toru..," you mumble with a desperate edge. "Please move.."

You don't have to tell him twice. Satoru pulls his hips back until only the tip remains and slowly thrusts back into your cunt with a deep grunt. Dull fingernails bury themselves into the skin of your hips as he sets a slow pace and draws moan after sweet moan from your lips.

Your toes curl. Satoru's cock presses into all the right spots that you could never reach on your own. He wipes all worries and every possible thought from your mind. You throw your head back into the pillows and arch your back, tits bouncing with each thrust he delivers to your freshly popped cunt. "Ah..mh..fuck yes.."

Your moans increase in volume and pitch; he picks up the pace and buries his face in the crook of your neck where he bites into the skin to muffle his own noises, claiming you as his. "Crap..so tight..so wet.." A few curses fall from Satoru's lips.

Pushing you further into the mattress, Satoru grabs your wrists and pins them up above your head; you don't even seem to notice. He finishes each thrust with a roll of his hips and groans whenever your gummy walls flutter around him, needing him to stay right where he is.

Suddenly, your eyes go wide and a little scream is torn from your throat. "Ah! Toru! Right there!"

"Right here?," Satoru rolls his hips into yours again, placing his large palm on your lower abdomen, only to draw the very same reaction from you. You rapidly nod your head, lip bitten between your teeth. He smirks. "So that's the spot, huh.."

Satoru interlaces your fingers together and begins abusing that spot for good measure. His cock drills into your poor pussy over and over again as you moan and squirm underneath him. Around his waist, your thighs shake. Your juices drip down your ass and his balls, making each smack just a tad bit louder, filthier. His groans mix with your moans and little babbles.

The way you look at him through half-lidded eyes, taking his pounding like you're made for him specifically and offering your body for his pleasure. It's all too much for Satoru.

"Shit..can't make love to you when you're looking at me like this." Letting go of your hands, Satoru swipes his sweaty strands of hair back and briefly pulls out of you. Calloused palms grip your waist and easily flip you flat on your stomach.

A squeak of surprise slips your lips as your face is suddenly in the pillows and the way you look at him over your shoulder is probably awkward, too. "Toru..?," you ask through heavy pants.

Hands still on your waist, Satoru uses his strength to push you into the mattress, to keep you from squirming. "Hold still. I need to fuck you, doll."

There's no need to question what exactly he means by that when his cock bullies its way into your small cunt again. This time, you cry his name into the pillows and lightly kick your legs as he drills right into that spot that makes you see stars.

Satoru is no longer gentle with you as he fucks into you over and over again, shamelessly using your body like he's dreamed of for so long now. All the cute noises you make only fuel him more until he's pounding you into the mattress.

Eyes rolling into the back of your skull, all you can do is moan his name loud enough for everyone to hear. Any bit of decency or shame is wiped clean from your mind as Satoru drills his cock into you with precision.

"Still such a tight little pussy..," Satoru laughs, his balls slapping against your clit repeatedly. "Do you like it that much when I use you like this? Tell me."

A rough hand grips the roots of your hair on the top of your head as Satoru leans over your body, pressing his front flush to your back as he continues to pound away at your pussy. His mouth is right at your ear, groaning into it. "C'mon, use your big words like you always do, doll."

Tears gather at your eyes and they're quick to run down your cheeks. You can hardly think straight, much less form a coherent sentence with the way he's treating you. It takes you a moment to pull yourself together before your voice comes out as a broken moan paired with sobs. "I love it, Toru! Don't stop, please.. Please, please don't stop.. Feels too good.."

Satoru groans at your words and rewards you with a particularly sharp thrust. The hand in your hair slides down around your throat, choking you lightly as he catches your lips in a sloppy, heated kiss.

Your eyes roll back again as Satoru easily dominates your tongue. The slippery muscles slide against each other, getting all tangled up and making saliva slip from the corner of your mouth. "Fuck, you're so pretty," he grunts into your mouth, his lips finding yours a few times like he needs more of your taste.

"Toru..," you whine, lips swollen from all the kissing and glossy with his saliva. "I'm gonna.. Ah! Oh God!"

"I know baby," Satoru hushes you softly. By the way your cunt clenches around him sporadically, your shaking thighs and those hot tears rolling down your cheeks, he can tell you're close. "Let it go. I've got you."

Your orgasm comes crashing down on you with one skilled roll of Satoru's hips. A yell of his name tears through your throat as you cum all over his cock, making a mess of his lap and the sheets below. He keeps you in check as you squirm and sob and he whispers sweet praises into your ear that go in one ear and out the other. He helps you ride the waves of your high.

"Fuck, gonna fill this sweet pussy up..," Satoru groans and thrusts into your abused cunt a few more times before he buries his face in your neck, groaning your name loudly as he squirts thick ropes of cum right inside. His hips come to a halt as he grinds his essence deeper into you until it seeps out from where he's plugging your hole so deliciously.

For a while, you bask in Satoru's weight collapsing on top of you as he holds you impossibly closer and caresses your lower stomach with sweaty palms. Lazily, he peppers sweet kisses along your neck and pushes your sweaty hair away from his path so he can nuzzle into you all he wants. Snowy strands of hair tickle your face.

"That was..," you start, still out of breath.

"..amazing," Satoru finishes for you with a chuckle.

Not long after, Satoru is kind enough to pull out of you and clean up the mess he's caused. Every once in a while, he claims that it's mainly you who caused the mess since you were, quote "dripping wet", but he's just teasing you, changing not only the sheets but cleaning you up with a damp cloth as well.

Satoru slides right underneath the covers with you and lets you rest your head on his chest while holding you close to his body. Although the room smells like sex, the two of you savor the post-orgasm glow and just..hold each other.

"You know, you're quite the pervert for watching me jack off," Satoru breaks the silence and draws a faux offended gasp from you. Playfully, you smack his chest and he snickers. You always give him such perfect reactions.

"It's you who's the pervert! You jacked off with my panties!" It explains why all your panties disappear for a while only to suddenly spawn from the washing machine.

Satoru rolls his eyes. "Duh? How could I help myself when they're so cute? It's your fault, obviously."

The both of you banter back and forth for a while, mixed with laughter and giggles that fill the room. Despite the fact that Satoru is a panty stealer, the moment is quite sweet. You're glad that you can still laugh with him like this after having done..unspeakable things.

Once the laughter dies down and your eyes grow heavy, you feel like you should confess one more thing before drifting off to dreamland in Satoru's arms. Your voice is quiet and soft as you speak. "I've..used a pair of your boxers.."

Satoru tightens his arm around you and takes a breath through his nose. "Have you touched yourself in them?"

Silence follows, speaking volumes about the deeds you have committed.

"..Can I sniff them?"

"You pervert!"

"Objection! You're just as messed up as I am!"

feel free to send me your jjk thirsts/thoughts and i'll write a lil' something <3

[amialunatic]

Heyyy! I’d love to see some dom!sam head canons, or maybe an nsfw alphabet if you’re interested in writing one!

ok I know this is late but I was just a tad nervous about actually writing hehe.

This is my first writing in general. So yeah, idk how good it is, but I hope you enjoy it !!

NSFW Alphabets

Sam Winchester (Season 1-6. With the exception of demon blood, and soulless Sam)

If anyone likes any of the particular scenarios, give me a request. I could write more about them.

Words: 1k

Warning: nsfw. Minors DNI.

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Normally, very sweet. Cuddling you, gently caressing you where he was rough with you. Brushing the marks he left on you, treating you like a precious jewel. (I plan to write another one for soul-less Sam because I need more exposure to him. I'm in S6 rn)

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Everywhere, but somehow it feels like Sam would love your neck. Gently nipping with his teeth, drawing out your gasps. He is very modest, so he doesn’t admit to having any favorite body parts of his. (Mine is his back and chest though, omfg I die)

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Inside you (protected of course), even though he is scared of having kids and a family, thus passing down his toxic family dynamics, he secretly loves the idea of breeding you. 

D = Dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He sometimes hates that he loves pain. It makes him feel like the devil he believes he is. So he tries to keep that side inside himself. Sometimes, you can push past his limits and set free the untamed Sam and that ends up being the most mind-blowing experience you have had. 

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

He knows enough and guides you through it gently. Rough actions, gentle words.  

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Different moods, different positions. We know the man has different personalities. If he is feeling soft, you straddling and riding him with intense eye contact. If he is feeling more rage-y, from behind. OR with your legs on his shoulder, deep and intense yet extremely personal. He can see you underneath him, your eyes pleading and barely open with all the pleasure you’re in. 

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Oh no. He is serious. A lot of teasing, but not goofy. It’s more condescending like, “oh you like it? I thought you were above this. I thought you didn’t want this. Your body says otherwise sweetheart. “

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Yeah he is groomed. Clean and trimmed. 

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Very intimate. Romantic, but not sweet. But he knows you like it like that. 

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

When he is alone during hunts and misses you, he imagines you. If he is able to, he calls you. If not, he gets himself off in the shower, cascaded in warm water, eyes closed, imagining your body and your pleading and needy voice. 

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Bondage- The man loves this. You under his control. 

Voyeurism- He gets off from watching you in pleasure. Either self masturbation or toys, whatever it is, he loves the moans and gasps and his name emerging from your lips as you tip off the high. 

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Bed for sure. Kitchen counter. Shower. 

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Sounds, and your eyes. 

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Hurt you. You guys can be rough which is why you have a safe word. He retreats and becomes his gentle self if he hears so much as a whisper of that word. 

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He loves to give. But he loves to receive too. Both are intense. When he is eating you out, nothing can stop him. He is fully into it, determined to draw out the most sinful moans from you. He doesn't stop until you’re a shaking stammering mess underneath him. 

And when he is receiving, he has to hold himself back from slamming too hard. He runs his fingers across your full cheek and stretched lips slowly coaxing you gently to relax. “It’s okay baby, open up. I know you can take it. You look so beautiful, those lips wrapped around me taking me so well.“

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Switching between both. One minute he is slow and sensual and slowly dragging his cock inside you. The next moment, he can’t resist himself from slamming hard as he hears your gasps. Tries not to be rough, but sometimes the restricted rage and force slip through and he can’t control it. 

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Not a fan. He likes it to be detailed and loves to take his time breaking you down to your bare bones until you’re nothing but blissfully fucked out. But he also lets you ride his thighs when you’re needy, even if he is working. 

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? Do they take risks? etc.)

Yeah if you want to. Personally, he likes it traditional, he never gets bored of the basics with you. But if you propose something, he will try it out to please you. 

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? How long do they last?)

Extreme stamina. Believe me, this man can keep going as long as you need him to. 

T = Toys (do they own toys? Do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

He loves indulging you. If you like toys, he buys you toys. Secretly he likes to see you overstimulated and he is just watching from across the room, enjoying your pleasure like his. 

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He teases you but is very kind. Begging from you, one sincere plea and he will let you cum. But you liked to be teased and so he does it. 

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Not really loud. Grunts and low groans are the things you get. Heavy breaths and strings of curses when he is drawing out his and your orgasms so that you can release from the high slowly. 

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

He is not super horny. But when he is, you are done for. You probably would need to rest a couple of hours to recover from it. 

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterward)

Not that quick. He carries you and gets into the shower, slowly washing away the remains and calming you down. Then gives you something to eat before sleeping.

[ataliagold]

But My Heart Is Just A Little Boy

Pairing: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson

Rating: Teen (swearing)

W/C: 2012

Tags: Established Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson, hurt/comfort, Steve Harrington has dyscalculia, Steve Harrington has self esteem issues, Steve Harrington needs a hug, fluff, light angst, DnD, Mike and Dustin are a little mean here

Notes: Just slowly posting some of my AO3 stuff here as well :) Title from Rattlesnake by Jack Van Cleaf.

___

Steve joining in on Eddie’s campaign was supposed to be a nice surprise for his boyfriend.

And it was; Eddie’s face had lit up with joy when Steve had walked in and sat down with the kids around the table. Steve had taken the dice Dustin had loaned him and lined them up in front of him, from the D4 (the funny triangle one) up to the D20 (the one with heaps of sides, Steve reminded himself.)

If he kept them in that order it would help him pick the right dice quickly, he’d decided.

Because he wanted this to go to perfectly.

Eddie had been asking him to join in on a game for months, but Steve had so far refused, only coming along sometimes to watch quietly. There were parts of it that piqued his interest – namely the combat and the creatures Eddie planted into the game, because some of them were so damn cool even if Steve wouldn’t readily admit it out loud. A small part of him, a much younger part that had loved fairy tales and stories about knights and dragons and sword fights before his father had confiscated those books, deeming them too childish, watched with a quiet giddiness as the kids battled all manner of beasts.

But much of the game was so complicated - there were so many numbers, and Steve had no idea how Eddie and the kids managed to keep track of everything, how they added dice values together so damn quickly and kept track of a seemingly endless list of stats and bonuses and modifiers, whatever the hell they were.

Eddie knew about his difficulty with numbers. He’d seen the way Steve had to count with his fingers, how it took him far too fucking long to do a simple equation, how he stood in Melvald’s staring at the price of something just trying to make the numbers make sense so they wouldn’t blow their grocery budget.

And Eddie was patient, always. But D&D was Eddie’s realm, his place to shine, and Steve was so worried about holding him back and ruining the game every time he had to pause to add two fucking dice together.

Finally, he’d caved. Secretly, with Dustin’s help, he’d put a character sheet together. He’d made a paladin because Dustin had told him it suited him. Steve made him strong and lawful good, just like the knights he used to read about as a little boy. Dustin had rolled his eyes a little at that but Steve had been quite proud of what he’d put together.

Plus, Dustin had promised to help him with the math.

But here Steve was, well over an hour into the campaign, and he was struggling.

Cheeks burning, he turned to Dustin yet again.

“Wait, which one am I rolling?” he whispered.

Dustin rolled his eyes. The kid had been patient at first, but it was beginning to wear thin.

Steve was beginning to wear thin.

“The D10, Steve,” Dustin hissed.

“Right,” Steve nodded, grabbing for one of the dice.

“That’s the D8, Steve,” Mike said wearily.

Steve’s cheeks flushed even hotter, and he grabbed the other dice, rolling it quickly.

“Ahhh...seven,” Steve announced.

“You slash at the goblin, your blade cutting deep into its chest, the creature gurgling and reeling backwards…” Eddie leant over the table, giving a dramatic recount of events.

Steve smiled, unable to help it. His boyfriend was having such a good time, and even if Steve wasn’t enjoying himself so much, well, that was ok. He could do this, for Eddie.

“…but it scrabbles back to its feet, weak but alive,” Eddie finishes.

Mike groaned and slapped the table.

“It has to be almost dead,” Lucas announced.

“Yeah, but there’s still four others,” Mike pointed out.

“This one must be on two hit points or less,” Will surmised.

How did he know that? Steve frowned, let the kids talk amongst themselves. His gaze wandered over to Eddie, watching him lean back in his chair, eyes shining. He shot a wink at Steve when he caught him looking, then frowned a little, obviously noticing Steve wasn’t looking all that comfortable.

You ok? He mouthed at him.

Steve nodded quickly.

But he felt small.

Grow the fuck up, you’re fine.

“…Steve!” Mike groaned.

Steve’s attention snapped back to the kids. “What?”

“Stop staring at Eddie and tell us how many hit points you’ve got left.”

“Um…” Steve glanced down at the piece of paper in front of him. He’d scribbled some numbers down like Dustin had told him to every time his character had taken damage, but there were a lot of numbers there and he wasn’t sure they all actually related to his hit points…

“Give it here,” Dustin snatched the paper from him impatiently, peering down at it.

Steve waited while Dustin assessed his work, the feeling vaguely reminiscent of being back in school, his teachers reading over his work with a disappointed shake of their heads.

“This can’t be right, Steve,” Dustin sighed. “It says you’re on twelve hit points…is that a twelve? Your writing’s messy.”

Steve nodded. “Yours isn’t much better, pea-brain,” he mumbled, just to shoot something back at the kid.

Dustin narrowed his eyes at him. “You must have less than that because of the damage you took in the last round. You’re probably down to…eight at the most, by now.”

“Just make it eight, then,” Steve grumbled.

“Eight it is, big boy,” Eddie agreed.

“It doesn’t work like that, though,” Mike huffed. “You actually have to keep track of this stuff Steve, there’s no point playing if you just make the numbers up.”

“It doesn’t matter, really,” Will tried to intervene quietly. “It can just be eight.”

Dustin picked up his pencil, drawing some columns on Steve’s paper. “Ok, so just use this one column to keep track of damage, don’t write all over the page. There’s your total hit points at the top, and every time you take damage, write it down under there, ok? And then just take it off the total. Simple.”

Like it was that fucking easy. Maybe for them, it was. They didn’t get every number mixed up in their brain, they didn’t stare at a single digit trying to put some numeric value behind it and coming up with zilch.

Dustin was trying to help, Steve knew. But his tone of voice was so fucking condescending that it had Steve squirming in his seat, wishing he was anywhere else.

He felt Eddie’s eyes on him.

“Come sit by me, Stevie, I’ll help you keep track.” Eddie said gently.

“You’ll just go easy on him, and that’s not fair!” Mike whined.

“Can it, Wheeler,” Eddie snapped at him.

“Just because he can’t do basic math.”

“Right, you get to roll with disadvantage now, just for that,” Eddie told him smugly.

Mike was retorting with something, but Steve didn’t hear it.

His pulse was thumping in his ears, his cheeks on fire. The years were stripped from him, the sensitive child he’d tucked away inside a long time ago forced to the surface.

“Look, just carry on without me,” Steve muttered, and stood up quick enough that his chair scraped on the floor.

“Steve -” Dustin started, but Steve was finished, striding towards the stairs and blinking back tears.

He wasn’t going to cry in front of the kids, not over a fucking game, not over something his boyfriend loved so much.

But they were coming faster than he could blink them back as he headed out of Mike’s stuffy basement and out to the driveway, the cold night air caressing his flushed face.

This was supposed to have been a treat for Eddie. It was supposed to be fun, and Steve had ruined the night by being fucking stupid.

A tear tracked down his cheek , Steve losing the battle against them. He’d just drive home, he decided. Steve had come straight from work that day, so Eddie had come separately in his van, he wouldn’t be inconvenienced.

And then they could finish their game in peace, without having to treat Steve like a five-year-old.

He was getting in the driver’s seat when Eddie ran to him, both hands reaching for him.

“Stevie…” Eddie murmured softly.

“I’m sorry,” Steve mumbled, dragging his sleeve across his face, smudging the tears there.

“Why? The kids were being assholes, I’ve already yelled at them.”

Steve shook his head. “I was just slowing everyone down, they were getting frustrated, I get it.”

“No, sweetheart, they were being rude,” Eddie corrected him. “Especially Wheeler.” Eddie brushed his thumbs across Steve’s cheeks, crouching down beside the open driver’s door. “I’ve told them to pull their heads in. Do you…do you want to come back inside?”

“Eds…” Steve leant into his hands a little. “I’m no good at it. I really wanted to try, for you, and I’m so sorry I ruined it, but there’s too many numbers and I can’t keep track of everything and it takes me so fucking long and it’s embarrassing because I can’t even keep up with a bunch of kids, and I just feel like I’m back at school again.”

Eddie cupped his cheeks again, tilting Steve’s head to look at him. “Hey. You haven’t ruined anything, they did. I’m so happy you came along tonight, because I know you did it for me. But look, D&D doesn’t have to be your thing -”

“But -”

“It doesn’t,” Eddie cut in. “Just like…your balls in laundry basket games aren’t mine. But I like hanging around while you and Wayne watch them, and I love how excited you get about it, and how you sit there with that fucking pretty smile…”

Steve huffed out a small laugh, and Eddie grabbed his wrist to press a kiss to the inside of it.

“But I don’t know what’s going on most of the time,” Eddie continued. “It makes you happy, and that’s enough for me. So, I don’t want you to feel like you have to play D&D just for me if it’s not something you enjoy. It’s more than enough that you listen to my ideas, that you help me write -”

“I don’t really,” Steve said quietly.

“You do! Or have you forgotten who came up with that fucking amazing twist with the elven prince?”

“I got it from a movie,” Steve argued.

“So? I didn’t think of it, and it had the little shrimps completely stumped.”

Steve managed a small smile. “I do like some of the stories,” he admitted quietly. “But I think…I just wanna go home, ok? You can carry on.”

Eddie shook his head. “I’m gonna get them to pack up in there. I’ll drop them home, then follow you back, ok?”

“Steve?” came Dustin’s voice from behind Eddie, small and hesitant.

Steve quickly straightened up in his seat, wiping a hand across his face.

“Yeah, buddy?” he replied, his voice a little hoarse.

“I’m…I’m sorry. That we weren’t more patient. It’s ok if you struggle with numbers, and we should’ve helped more.”

“It’s ok, Dusty,” Steve told him.

Eddie frowned, reached down to squeeze Steve’s hand, then turned to Dustin. “It isn’t ok,” he argued. “But it was nice of you to apologize.”

Dustin nodded. “If you want to try again sometime, I promise I’ll help more. I…I really liked having you play.”

“Thanks,” Steve managed.

“Tell Wheeler to start crafting his apology too,” Eddie said firmly, still cradling Steve’s hand in his own. “Otherwise he’s rolling with disadvantage for the whole next session.”

Dustin’s eyes widened a little before he nodded.

After packing up, the kids waited sheepishly by Eddie’s van. Eddie stayed crouched next to Steve a moment longer.

“Go home, get comfy on the couch, and pick out any movie you want to watch, ok?” Eddie murmured to him. “When I get home I’m gonna order us some pizza, and I’m gonna cuddle the shit out of you, understand?”

Steve laughed softly. “Sounds perfect.”

“Good. I’ll see you soon, sweetheart.”

___

[miley1442111]

shocker- a.hotchner

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

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

summary: you have some news for your husband.

pairing: aaron hotchner x wife! reader

warnings: fluff, pregnancy, mild angst, happy ending :)

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

Aaron had a day off. A day off from work, from paperwork, from travel. And he had you all to himself. 

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

He woke up much earlier than you ever would, but instead of getting in his morning thirty-minute run, he stayed in bed with you, allowing himself a few extra minutes of sleep. God, you were gorgeous like this. Unconscious and unbothered, a soft smile on your face as you lay beside him in your shared bed. Most of the time he couldn’t even believe he knew someone like you, let alone married you. 

“You’re getting handsy Mr. Hotchner,” you chuckled, swatting his hand that had in fact, landed on your ass. 

He chuckled back. “I can’t appreciate my wife?”

You finally opened your eyes, only to roll them at him. He laughed and pressed a kiss against your cheek as you yawned, too tired from the long week to get up yet. 

“We should do something today,” he pressed soft kisses to your collarbone as you nodded to what he was saying. “Movie?”

“Nothing new is out,” you reminded him. 

“Park?”

“Jess isn’t a fan of the park anymore,” you yawned. 

“Shopping?”

You stared at him in bewilderment for a moment. “Are you insane?”

“Yeah, I guess that one was a long shot.”

“We could stay in bed all day,” you offered.

“As much as I would love that,” a harsh smack landed on your ass and you yelped. “We do have two children to look after.”

“Send them to Jessica’s,” you groaned. “We haven’t had any time together in months, Aaron. I adore our kids, but I also adore my husband, and I want to see him.”

Aaron’s heart swelled, and he needed no more convincing. “I’ll call her now.”

You smiled at him, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Thank you.”

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

God, this day was more than needed. 

Sending Jack and Jessie off to their cousin's house meant you and Aaron had a whole morning to watch an entire film, without someone interrupting, then you got up and went to the farmer’s market together, and had a great time. 

“I love you,” you smiled, leaning over the centre console of the car as Aaron reversed out of your parking spot. He chuckled, then took your hand. 

“I love you too.”

“Aaron,” you smiled. 

“Y/n,” he responded, smiling cheekily. 

“Are you happy?” 

“More than anything,” he smiled. “I love our life, so much.”

“Do you want more kids?” you asked nervously. Truthfully, this is what today had been about. Four weeks ago, you found out you were pregnant. It was an accident, yes, but hopefully not a mistake. How ould he take it? Jess was planned completely and Jack had been planned too (granted, not with you but, you knew the Aaron Hotchener way). This was totally unplanned. You two were both busy people with busy jobs you loved a lot.

“Maybe in a few years-”

“I’m pregnant.” 

His mouth opened in shock, then close to a straight line. 

“You’re not happy,” you responded for him.

“I’m very happy,” he nodded. “Just… shocked and a little bit confused as to why you told me while I’m driving.”

You chuckled, but the rest of the car ride was silent and your anxiety grew. What if he wasn’t happy? What would happen? Had you ruined the day?

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

You rushed inside the house and away from him, locking yourself in your bedroom under the guise of a nap. You had gotten a full 12 hours of sleep, and now, there you were with a head full of anxious thoughts and awful ideas. 

“Can I come in?” he knocked on the door, and you just mumbled a response. You heard him sigh and unlock the door from the outside, and everything came crashing down. Your eyes watered, and immediately wrapped you up in his arms with a heavy sigh. “I’m sorry.”

“You don’t need to be sorry,” you whispered, tears falling down your face. “It’s ok Aaron.”

“I’m happy about this,” he nodded, reassuring you. His hands cupped your cheeks, turning your attention towards him. “I’m just… surprised. Jess is only 2, and Jack is getting older everyday. I was just scared about the thought of having a newborn. I’m not unhappy, I’m just scared.”

“I’m really scared about this,” you admitted. “Our last pregnancy was less than… easy.”

“This time, I’ll be here the whole time,” he promised. 

“Aaron, you’ll be at work and so will I-”

“I’m leaving the BAU. I want to be here more,” he pulled you closer. “I want to be here for you and the kids.”

You stared up at him in shock. “Really?”

“Yes,” he smiled. 

"So you'll stay home with the kids?" You asked.

"I want nothing more," he smiled.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

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

criminal minds masterlist :)

navigation for my blog :) (criminal minds, obx, the bear, marvel, top gun, the hunger games :)

[placeinthemiddleofnowhere]

How does it look? Ah, it’s an improvement

Pairing: König x Reader

Summary: You’re determined to find out why everyone thinks König is so scary, afterall he’s just some guy that’s taller than most people right? He’s probably harmless! Well, he’s a little scary, but you still like him anyway.

(No use of y/n or mention of gender/race)

AN: Ok, so another gap between updates, but for everyone that's still here, I hope you guys enjoy it, your comments and asks give me life 💕

Part 6 of A Rocky Start - Full Masterlist Here

-☠️-

In the days after your little run in with König at the gym, things had been tense with the guys. So much so that until you could find time for a ‘covert’ date, you’d tried to avoid him like the plague. Of course that meant that he was open to attack from the rest of your team, but you figured, what harm could they really do? Well as it turned out, after finally lifting your self imposed ban, he’d said they’d been on him like bloodhounds.

Apparently there was no limit they would reach to defend your honour, not that it needed defending in the first place (but you couldn’t tell them that). After a mixture of the guys trying to warn him, threaten him, jump out at him, knock his tea off of the counter and throw his food in the bin, they’d made it difficult for König to do much of anything around base. Your mind had buzzed in a near constant state of anxiety, waiting to see what they’d do next.

Luckily for your frayed nerves and König’s safety however, they stopped being as harsh to him as time went on. In only a couple weeks in fact, they’d stopped attempting to jump him and threaten him away from you, and instead took to glaring at him and giving him what you called the ‘school girl treatment’. Sure, bitching about him and saying they couldn’t wait to put Ex Nihilo in the ground once and for all so they could flush out KorTac wasn’t particularly helpful for team morale, but it meant that you didn’t need to worry about your lover getting shanked anymore. 

If you were being honest, you couldn’t help but feel he deserved it a little given it had been his bright idea to rile you up in the first place. That’s what you get for trying to show off in front of Ghost. However that didn’t mean you didn’t still worry for him, far from it. You were practically biting your tongue off whenever König would happen across your path. 

“Didn’t anyone tell you the love of your life aint in your chain of command Soap?”

“Oh shut the fuck up!”

You snorted as Soap shot you a glare. He’d momentarily distracted himself from pinning Ghost only to end up rolled over and under the heavy frame of the Lieutenant - who he’d only just managed to hold down himself. His body landed on the ground with a thundering crash, and at the very same time he let out a small ‘oof’ you held your hands at your mouth and tried to hold back on the stream of laughter threatening to burst out. Not that that was any use, you were breaking in no time, squealing like a kid. Served him right for getting cocky. He’d been leaning hard into Ghost, his eyes level and lips caught in a ridiculous smirk. 

“Looks like the next rounds on you again, Johnny boy!” Ghost chuckled, releasing Soap before he snapped something.

“No! No, no, no, I call bullshit on that,” Soap huffed, jumping to his feet like a jack in the box. “The only reason you won was because that little dick couldn’t keep their mouth shut.”

Your fellow sergeant held an accusing finger up at you, his face going pink in anger. Sore loser. You gasped in mock offence then proceeded to shoot him your best puppy eyes and shrugged, perfecting a show of innocence that would make an angel weep. 

“Me?”

“Yes you! Love of your life’s not in your chain of command’,” he echoed, pitching your words up like a little girl. “Fuck off!”

“I don’t sound like that,” you sniggered, watching as his face got redder. “Don’t be a sore loser Soap.”

Soap hit the mat just shy of his thigh, pounding it as if it were a way to wage revenge, working himself up as you and Ghost continued to laugh like hyenas. 

Ghost eventually joined your side, he picked up the water bottle he’d abandoned by his workout gear and took a long gulp, huffing as he lowered the bottle back down. Ghost’s breathing was laboured and you could smell the sharp stench of sweat coming off of him in waves, apparently even with your intervention, that hadn’t been an easy victory. You knew that well enough yourself, you were only barely able to beat him sometimes, he’d earned his nickname just as much as you’d merited yours. 

“I almost had the bastard this time!” Soap huffed, slumping. “If it hadn’t a’ been for you.”

“Well, if it makes you feel better I’ll pay for it,” you offered, rising to your feet. “Given you both go get a shower, you guys fuckin’ stink.”

Soap smirked at that, his eyes regaining their lost spark as if he’d been given a jumpstart. You didn’t care for it. 

“Really? I don’t think I smell too bad,” Soap said, his voice taking on an edge again. “C’mere, let me make you really pay for it!”

“Wait, what are you- ew! No! Get away from me!” 

You squealed as Soap made a dash for you and hopped out the way from his grabbing arms, jumping away like a scared cricket. Unfortunately he was blocking the exit, forcing you into the corner of the room, keeping you on the edge of your toes while he held his arms up, torturing you with the threat of a hug. It took everything in you to keep track of where the mats were and not to slip on the shiny wooden floors, squeaking with every step you took as you frantically traversed the hall. 

“It’s just like you said Sneaky, can’t fraternise outside my rank. Guess that just leaves you!” He laughed, making another unsuccessful lunge at you. 

“I’m sure Gaz…is around here somewhere,” you said, breathing hard as you continued to duck and dive from him.

Despite Mactavish’s best efforts, you still managed to elude him. When he leapt for you, you strafed away and even when he’d successfully grab your arm, you’d break his hold before he could wrap you in his stinking death grip. 

You were so close to the exit now. You’d danced your way there, too busy walking backwards and throwing Soap off of your intentions that you were taken unawares when you backed into something solid where an empty doorway should’ve been. It was only when two familiar big hands drew round your frame to steady you, that you realised exactly who you’d bumped into. 

“Careful Sergeant,” König said, his voice surely thick with a grin. “I see training in the 141 is as rigorous as ever.”

You sigh, taking a cautious look over at Ghost who has his eyes locked on the offensive figure behind you. Even as Ghost stood there smelling like week old laundry he’d acted as if König had dragged putrid roadkill into the room and asked him to take a bite. 

“You wanna test how good our training is, König?” Soap barked, puffing his chest out like a cartoon gorilla.

You rolled your eyes.

“No thank you, I’m afraid I’d get terribly bored.”

“Funny,” Ghost said plainly, tilting his head. “Maybe we could find out how interesting you find us once you let go of Sneak. Could make sure those dirty mitts don’t linger too long again.”

You could feel his fingers dig into your skin, and with just a cursory glance up to the slits in König’s mask, you knew he hadn’t been meaning to clutch onto you for so long. Though, even in your haste to be subtle you didn’t miss the wink he gave you when he let you go, or the way his fingers brushed against you like falling silk. Clearly someone had been missing you. Probably as much as you’d missed him. 

“Apologies,” he’d said, not able to resist whispering after, “lucky for him he doesn’t know where these ‘mitts’ were last weekend.”

You choked on your next breath and turned so that your back was to the others before they could see your haunted expression. König was becoming a master of landing you in the shit. Even as you tried to glare at him, your paranoid mind wondered if they could see your body buzzing with worry. 

“Why are you here, König?” you asked, voice shaking with a hundred different emotions.

Even under the darkness of his full hood, König’s eyes sparkled with mischief and you didn’t miss the playful raise of his brows. He was continuing to wage war on you, even when you giving him the ‘stop fucking with me’ look. He was going to hear about that later. 

“Curiously enough, Price sent me. He wanted me to tell you to come to his office.”

Everyone’s breaths were collectively stolen from the room. 

“Price? Price asked you to talk to Sneak for him?” Soap said dubiously, first to ask before anyone else could.

You were too busy wondering if he’d figured something out. 

“Funny isn’t it?” König said, his gaze squarely fixed on you. “He was in a rush to sort something and unfortunately for him, I was the only one around. I think you’re being sent off on a mission.”

You didn’t miss the way his voice dropped in disappointment. If you were going away with Price then it was anyone’s guess how long you’d be away for. Last time he’d spirited away with Gaz he’d disappeared for days, and come back afterwards sagging like a melted ice cream. Whatever you’d be doing, it’d likely tire you out just as much and even if you were to come back through the weekend you’d likely be beat just the same. With that in mind, you knew it was unlikely you’d get to carry out your fun weekend plans with König. That meant it’d be a whole week’s wait until you got to meet with him again. 

Fuck.

“Oh…thanks for letting me know.”

“Of course. Can’t ignore an order from the Captain.”

The ‘unfortunately’ didn’t have to be said, it hung in the air between you two like black clouds of smoke. It took everything in you to ignore him from then on, turning instead to your things and stuffing them into your pockets. Your ears burned as they traced his footsteps fading from the doorway, and your chest grew heavy knowing you’d be missing him like hell until you could see him again. 

“Fancy that, Price going against his own orders,” Ghost said, folding his bulging arms over his chest. 

Always looking for a fight. 

“Fuck, probably didn’t even ask that cunt. The thing probably ate the guy that was actually supposed to come get Sneak,” Soap sniggered, finally emerging from his huff.

Oh yeah, they’d taken to calling König names now as well. They particularly enjoyed comparing him to a horrific bug monster which, even as childish as that was, was a little entertaining to you given you knew how much he hated that particular film when you’d tried to show it to him. He didn’t care for monster flicks. 

“I don’t think he’d lie,” you shrugged, trying to diffuse the situation.

“Really? I think he’d stab his own mother just to get a giggle,” Ghost snorted.

Clearly you don't know him very well. You laughed even in spite of knowing that what your Lieutenant said wasn’t remotely true, maybe even because you knew how ridiculous it was. They had a lot of fun making him out to be a raging sadist when as far as they were aware he’d done no worse than them on the field. König would stab himself before a hair on his mothers head came to harm, he practically gave half his wage just to make sure she ate well every month. 

“Maybe. Even so, I better go see what Price wants. Must be deadly urgent if he was desperate enough to send König,” you said, heading back toward the exit. 

“True. Sure you don’t want a reassuring hug before you go?” Soap asked, making a move like he’d come bounding up to you.

“Nope! Not even if this is the job I die on,” you called, speed walking down the corridor before he got any bright ideas. 

-☠️-

Just as König had said, you ended up pulled away with Price on reconnaissance. Now, while you’d much rather have been curled up in a hotel room with König and living out your lazy weekend plans, it turned out being away wasn’t all that bad. For one thing, Price was practically his old self with you again and for another it was good to get away from the rest of the 141. 

Constantly having to listen to them verbally disassemble the man that you were secretly in love with was a lot and it took everything not to sit there and defend him sometimes. Even then that would just result in an uproar about how you let people treat you. At that point you’d take Price’s steady quiet presence and occasional rumbles about coffee and football anyday. 

“You seeing anything Sneaky?”

Price’s hushed voice crackled over your comms, the tiny earpiece was flooding with interference from the busy market. Crowds of people swarmed and overflowing stalls that were bursting with goods, with salesmen boasting about their produce and wares like it was the last day on earth to buy anything. The heat beat down on your back and your outfit did little to help with the glaring sun, one of the pitfalls of wearing baggy clothing to conceal weapons. Your scent mingled with the rest of the sweltering bodies that bumped your sides and moved around you, but most of all you scented the rich foods and the old antiques that filled the stalls. Your senses were going wild, overstimulated to the max. 

“Not a fuckin’ thing,” you finally muttered.

You’d been sent out to intercept a meeting between two Ex Nihlio members, according to intel gathered from KorTac earlier in the week they were supposed to meet by one of the spice stalls. It was your job to route them out and figure out if they knew anything about Rousseau’s whereabouts. Only issue was that you were drowning in spice stalls. Both you and Price had taken turns dressing up like tourists with your big nikon cameras and neon bags and were playing a game of spot the terrorist cell with only a prayer that you hadn’t already missed them. 

Price was taking his turn up on the roof, nestled conveniently in a skillion like a bird of prey about to strike, watching and waiting with his binoculars up and gun at the ready. You felt safe knowing he was with you, his mumbled words of reassurance kept you sane as you traversed the labyrinthian pathways over and over and had to pretend to take an interest in various trinkets. 

However, you’d been on the streets for a couple hours now, you knew that soon enough you’d have to swap again and it’d be your turn to play sniper on the roof. That was - If your aching feet were anything to go by. You sighed and took a look around, deciding to do one last sweep around the stalls before you joined Price and relieved him of his position. 

“Hold on Sneak, turn around - don’t be obvious,” Price said, voice coming in low and grizzled from disuse. 

You froze in your spot and swallowed, committing yourself to your new task, taking a moment to look through your pockets before palming a warm penny. With a fake gasp, you sent it rolling behind you and leaned down, walking a few paces so that you could retrieve the penny off the ground while looking around for the source of Price’s interruption. When you looked up to the row of stalls across from you, you saw what he’d tipped you off on.

“Try to get in close.”

Situated next to an array of autumn coloured spice piles, were two men wearing dark shirts and trousers, talking hushedly to one another. While you couldn’t be absolutely sure that they were Ex Nihlio, you knew that it didn’t look like they were there to shop. You glanced away from them for a moment and set your sights on a curio stall next to them, stepping almost silently over the gritty path until you reached your target.

Their voices were low, coming in softer than a light breeze, but still you managed to catch a little of what they were saying and you knew the receiver would too. You tilted your head toward them, trying to give Price the best chance of hearing them too; all while you picked up a tiny bird figure barely bigger than one of your digits and held it to your eyes. You softly ran your fingers over the wood like you might bring it to life somehow and turned it this way and that, inspecting it carefully - it was important to make your fascination with the object look convincing. 

“Your orders are clear, you are not allowed to move forward.”

“But we have everything in place, we’re ready! I don’t understand.”

The men were tense, their voices strained as they endeavoured to stay quiet. 

“We have to be more reserved now. Ever since…he was taken and the tourists were found, things have been different. Plan’s changed.”

“What! because his-”

“Quiet! Not another word. This visit in itself was a courtesy only extended to you, we’ve had to stop everything we had planned, things have changed.”

“I don’t accept that. We have to keep the momentum going or we won’t be taken seriously.” 

You breathed out quietly, watching as the stall owner started approaching you and you let a smile melt onto your face, trying to keep up the dumb tourist charade. The woman looked keen as she approached, face reminiscent of a fox’s with her eager golden eyes and high cheekbones. Her lips were curved into a grin and she hunched over the counter tactically surveying her eyes over your form. She was probably anticipating someone stupid, someone that could be easily fleeced. 

“It’s a nice statue isn’t it? Are you interested in buying?”

“Uh, yeah I think so, it’s really cute,” you said with a short unsure laugh, trying to keep your voice low enough for Price to hear over. “How much is it though?”

Regrettably for her you weren’t going to be the easy mark that she’d assessed you as. Nevertheless, you still hoped to god she wasn’t going to ask for too much. You’d figured before setting out that you needed to buy some stuff so that you could blend in, but you hadn’t brought an awful lot and you’d already gotten some pastries and drink with the paltry change. Plus the little swallow, for all its tiny size, was very detailed, it’s little carved tail and wing feathers and dark wood would surely drive the cost up. Then there was also the fact that there was no way you’d be able to just accept the given price, you’d have to negotiate so that you had a reason for sticking around. 

While you desperately strained to try and hear the argument ensuing between the two men next to you, you weakly haggled with the woman giving her numbers that her lips upturned like a direly unamused theatre mask. Eventually though you both reached an agreement and the little figure was yours, but now you had to work out your next move. 

“‘We are from nothing, and we will fight each day until they can never reduce our names to the dirt again’- remember when that was our calling? Remember when we committed to a cause that day, does that mean nothing to you? We must act now!”

“It must mean nothing to you, if you are willing to risk everything just for a moment of glory.”

You didn’t have to struggle to blend in much longer. 

A loud shot rang out above the swathes of people around you and suddenly the entire market descended into chaos and terror, people ran and screamed and hid; fleeing like pigeons. You looked over to where the two men had been and saw only one now as he rushed away into the crowd while the other lay dead and bloody on the ground. The man’s pupils were tiny pin pricks staring emptily into the glaring sun, all life torn from the deserted vessel of his body. He’d gone back to nothing after all. 

“Price, I'm going after him.”

You tore your eyes from the dead man and chased after his killer, trying desperately to catch up as he faded into the crowds. You weaved and ducked, trying to remain discreet even still as you traced his path and took advantage of the wake he left in the crowd. He was like a speedboat tearing through choppy seas, disgruntled people were pushed to the side and made to move as he bulldozed through and gave you plenty of opportunity to follow. 

“You need to stop, Sneak. We don’t know if he has friends hiding around the area! Do you hear me? Stop! Sneak, how copy?”

Price was too late. You’d collided with the man already, strategically shoving him into an alleyway and underneath your body. You both breathed hard, groaning as your knees and his back made contact with the hard ground, but neither of you could afford to feel it for long. He fought his way up, reaching for a knife he’d stowed in a thigh pocket and attempted to plunge it into you before you disarmed him, smashing his wrist against the wall and pounding it with your other. 

“I got him pinned down, we’re in the alley a few streets up, he’s fighting back pretty hard,” you growled, thoroughly out of breath from trying to subdue the squirming screaming man. 

“That’s not what I ordered!”

“Well what are my orders now?” you asked, gritting your teeth as you punched the man, narrowly missing being hit first. 

Price didn’t speak for a beat, the silence was tense as you fought to subdue your target, filled with your gasping breaths and struggling bodies scraping against the grit like sandpaper. You could practically feel the steam that was pouring from Price’s ears coming in through the earpiece, sweat was pooling all over your body, exertion and heat were kicking in. After a moment, your captain finally responded through gritted teeth, his voice crackling all the more as you realised that he was on the move. 

“Coming to you now. Hold him there.”

Easier said than done. You felt like a bull rider as you bucked around on top of the stranger trying to subdue his movements with as little force as possible. While it was important to make sure he was kept down and kept quiet, you couldn’t do too much damage or it was worthless even stopping him in the first place. Clearly this man was in contact with Rousseau or at least someone very close to him, so it was of the utmost importance that you brought him in lucid and ready to spill. Or rather spill after some convincing, the look in his eye was that of a man that wouldn’t give you any satisfaction for nothing. 

His teeth were bared at you like an animal, one of them metallic and glinting in the sliver of light that emerged through the darkness. His eyes were wild like a feral lion. There was something about his face that terrified you in that moment, the sheer determination to kill you, the will of a man with conviction in his cause to tear you down. You had the upper hand though, finally you’d been able to reach the pistol you’d secreted away at your side and pulled it on him, holding it against him with a soundless ultimatum. 

“Get the fuck off me! I’ll have your eyes for this, fucking scum!”

The man ranted and screamed, but even still you weren’t deterred from your task. You kept him pinned down with the gun snug at his temple, praying that Price would be there soon. Luck wasn’t on your side that day though, rarely ever was, suddenly you were sailing onto your back. Stars filled your vision, light melting as the sky faded far away. It was somewhat reminiscent of what you’d seen happen days before, Ghost on top of Soap after his failed victory, Soap stuck to the ground like a monkey under a tigers paw. 

“Are you alright?” a voice asked.

Someone that you didn’t recognise, an accent you couldn’t place. 

“I’ll be fine! Finish them off and let’s go,” your target responded.

You winced, expecting that to be your final moment, the last thing you ever heard was a dismissal of your efforts. Through the murky darkness two eyes flashed through your head, two crystalline pools that opened like planets in the empty space of your mind. In your mind, König looked back on you smiling, his watchful gaze always reminding you of an angel while he loomed over you, bare chested and warm just like he’d been at the hotel.

Had that been your last though you would’ve died happy, you decided. 

Though you weren’t going to die that day, not yet. Another gunshot blasted through the atmosphere, ricocheting in your ears, but as you were still around to hear it and you weren't lying there in blinding pain - well not any more than you’d felt before the gun fired - you deduced the man had missed. Instead another man’s scream rang out and a flurry of footprints followed, scraping to get away. 

You opened your eyes, finally able to see again, but felt blinding pain replace your stolen vision. It coursed through your skull and rattled through your back, making you hiss as you sat up and stradied yourself on your scraped up hands. Colours and shapes swelled and swirled before your eyes before condensing and becoming clear. Price took form in front of you seconds later, his hands tight on your shoulders as he grabbed you and gave you a look over, running his hand gently over your head as if you were his child. 

“What the fuck did I tell you?” he muttered, eyes narrowing harshly as he realised you were ok. “You had no idea who else was there and wouldn’t you know it - who should show up, but one of his little friends”

“I…I already had him before you said to let him go,” you groaned, blinking furiously as you tried not to let the darkness at the edge of your vision take over.

“Is that right? Well, well done to you and your fucking initiative,” he groaned, “Look at you, you look like you’re going to fall apart. Are you ok, can you see?”

“Feels like it too,” you said, smiling weakly. “I can see, things just got hazy for a second there…Did you send the rest of the team after them?”

Price rolled his eyes, the bags under them looking pinched as he kept looking you over. Another group of soldiers had been kept on standby, ready to swoop in and drive you and whoever you might capture, but it didn’t look like Price was thinking of them then. He was focused on you, kneeling across from you and surveying for any changes. He let go of your shoulders, instead propping you up against an old crate that sat abandoned in the alley. 

“Course I sent them,” he said eventually. “Don’t think they’ll catch up though.”

“Fuck,” you hissed, feeling the full weight of the blow to your head.

“How bad’s the wound?” you asked, wincing as your fingers came away from it with blood. 

“Not bad. Not good either though,” Price deadpanned. “I’ll walk you out of here in a minute. I just want to make sure you’re going to stay awake.”

“Walk? You mean we can’t call an Uber?”

Price didn’t see the funny side of your joke, he shook his head and ran a hand through his beard, taking extra time to scratch as he reached the thicker sides. He was deep in thought, trying to process what had happened, and work out where to go from there. There was a look in his eyes he always got when he was catastrophizing, and you could tell he was in full crisis mode. His steady hands and stiff posture only served to throw off people that didn’t know him well enough. 

“What is it?”

“Two of em’ have seen your face now.”

You had already thought of that. 

“I know,” you said quietly, finally looking away from him. 

Neither of you said anything else for a second. You focused in on the crowd behind you instead, the people that still rushed through the streets trying to avoid a silent threat that had already run far from their paths. Their voices and scampering feet echoed and danced through the alleyway, distracting you from your pain for a moment. Thought still coursed through you in the background, remained swirling through your body like a snake constricting around your brain and back.

“We need to get you out of here and get you to a medic.”

You nodded, you wouldn’t fight him on that. A medic would have pain killers. You tried to rise on your own, gripping the rough wooden crate like a lifeline, but found yourself almost collapsing again until Price rushed to your side and held you up, grunting as he bore your weight. Through the vignette of your fading vision you could see the tight lipped grimace he was giving you and knew you were probably sporting a similar look of your own. 

“Don’t try to move on your own, let me help you,” Price growled.

“You gonna carry me all the way back to car?” you asked sceptically, remembering how far you had to go. 

“Can’t bloody well leave you. We don’t know if that bastard’s got more friends hanging around.”

“You could stick me in another alley and bring the car closer?” you asked, already knowing what his answer would be, 

“Not a chance. C’mon, get moving those feet. That’s an order!”

Stubborn. 

You grit your teeth and felt the pain shoot through your back and curl up in your stomach as you moved. You knew you hadn’t broken anything, but you were still feeling the effects of getting winded and the weeping head wound wasn’t helping matters either. Bile rose in your throat at the thought and even as Price kept his arm slung tightly round you, you felt your feet waver and drag across the ground, felt your mind struggling to keep going as your body began to give up. 

“Talk to me. Don’t give out on me now,” Price demanded, his breaths coming out punchy like wind hitting a sail. 

“Talk about what?” you laughed, wincing with the movement.

“Anything. Keep yourself focused, talk about anything.”

“Ok,” you conceded, thinking for a moment as you were dragged through an empty street. “Why’d you send König to come get me the other day?”

“Really? That’s all you could think of?” Price scoffed.

You were in too much pain to feel any shame or hesitation about pushing. In fact, it was the perfect time to bring up König because there weren’t going to be many other chances for you to leverage a head wound to discuss the subject. It was the perfect thing to direct your energy on and keep you upright. 

“You’re the one that told me I wasn’t to speak to him again,” you said measuredly. “It made me wonder why you’d send him to speak to me.”

“He was the only one around and the General wanted us gone ASAP.”

“You could’ve messaged.”

“I needed to make sure you knew to come right away.”

“Are you saying I’m not reliable?” you grinned, almost tripping on a fallen basket because you were so pleased with yourself.  

You and Price stopped just before your feet could stumble over the fallen produce and rerouted around it, huffing with exertion. Price’s back was sweating just as much as yours and once again you found yourself cursing at the sun, vowing that you would never spend another minute more in the heat if it meant you could be sent to a cold room with a full deck of meds ready at your disposal. 

“If you really want to know, I figured I could trust you now,” Price said, readjusting his grip on you. “After all that's happened.”

“Oh really?”

“Well you wouldn’t want to go near him now after what happened would you?” 

You had to hold back a bout of laughter, disguising it easily with a cough. If only he knew.

“Suppose not,” you answered.

“It’s better that way…associating with a man like that, you’d only end up at the top of someone’s shit list.”

“You think he’s got enemies?” 

“Why else do men like Ghost and König wear masks?” he huffed. “You’d be vulnerable with him, even if he is a one man army. He couldn't protect you if the people he’d pissed off came after you.” 

You pursed your lips and looked toward the end of the street, sighing as you remembered the car wasn’t that far away. The last thing you needed when you were trying not to go wobbly was Price making you doubt König. Instead you faced forward and kept on marching, narrowing your eyes as you fought off the darkness. 

-☠️- 

“Are you absolutely sure that you like wearing that shirt?”

You laughed as König hovered above you, pausing in his assault on your neck so that he could play with the hem at your neckline. His hemline rather. 

“You said you wanted to look after me this week, didn’t you?”

“Well yeah, but not at the expense of my only clothing,” he said, smiling at you with narrowed eyes.

You rolled your eyes at him and kissed him, planting your lips firmly on his so as to silence his protests. All was right in the world again. You’d been dismissed for a week because of your head wound, something about you having suffered from a concussion before so you were being forced to take leave and had decided to spend your time wisely. In other words, telling Price you were going to visit family, when in actuality you were shacked up in an airbnb close to the base so that König could come visit you and stay the night. 

Eventually he broke away from you and shook his head, rolling off the bed and causing an earthquake, causing the springs to groan and for the mattress to shake like jelly beneath you. You watched him as he stood and stretched. His body illuminated by the streetlamps outside the windows, the dull yellow contrasting harshly with the dark blue shadows that snaked over his taut muscles, meeting like intertwined fingers at his ribs.

“Is it because it's the Rammstein one?” you asked, sitting up to admire him easier. “Because I’m taking good care of it.”

He shook his head again and made his way to the door. 

“I know you’re taking good care of it. I just don’t have a lot of shirts to wear,” he explained, disappearing for a moment. 

You huffed and folded your arms, obscuring the blocky logo in the tangle of your intertwined limbs. The guilt trip wasn’t going to work, this was your shirt. You felt like you’d earned it after you’d forgotten home comforts and stayed in a stranger’s house all to be with him. Not that he wasn’t taking fantastic care of you. 

You watched as he came back in with a couple glasses of water and set them down on each of your respective bedside tables and disappeared again so he could grab two bowls, walking in with steam obscuring his face. You unfolded your arms, forgetting all about your upset and took in what he’d brought you. He’d heated some soup for you both and ensured that you were propped up nicely before placing yours in your lap, joining you at your side so that he could eat his. The smell of parmesan and vegetables drifted into the air, forcing your stomach to growl in anticipation. 

“Thank you, König,” you hummed.

The soup was delicious. It was unmistakably from the Italian deli that König knew you liked to frequent as a treat and you’d deduced he must’ve been earlier in the day to pick up a takeaway just for you. Even if he were being a stickler about his clothes, he still remained sweet and ensured you had every little comfort you could want for while you recovered.

Truth was, you hadn’t really felt that bad once you’d been patched up and given a few Codeine. The pain in your head had dulled to a low thud and more than anything it was background noise to the host of other complaints you could make about your battle torn body. Though König wouldn’t hear of it. He demanded that you stay in bed as he fussed around you and cuddled you like a sickly kitten. It was a wonder you were allowed to even roam the apartment by yourself with the way he coddled you, a miracle you weren’t wrapped in cotton wool and shrunk into his pocket for safe keeping. 

“Why is it that you’d want to wear one of my dirty shirts anyway?” König asked, breaking the silence.

You snorted, only just swallowing the spoonful of soup you’d taken and shrugged, a coy smile weaving its way onto your face. 

“It smells like you. Makes me feel safe,” you said finally, only a smidge embarrassed.

“And what do I smell like?”

“I dunno…just like you,” you shrugged. “Manly I guess, and I can smell that stupid cheap citrusy soap you use.”

“Don’t belittle my soap just because you like to buy the best,” he retorted. 

“That’s right, practicality over frivolity…How German,” you said with a sly smile. 

He froze mid spoonful, just about to eat another before he paused and shot you a withering side eye. You’d delighted in finding out another way to tease him, getting to play with him all you wanted while you recovered. 

“You call me German one more time, I’m taking the shirt off your back and leaving you naked to fend for yourself,” he said simply

“Oh c’mon, you’d never do that.”

“I just might,” he smiled, taking his last spoonful and letting the cutlery clatter to the empty bowl. “You know the difference.”

“In fairness you did live there for quite a while until you moved back again.”

“Yeah, and that's an even better reason for me to enjoy being Austrian.”

“Such a mean man, poor Germany!”

You playfully shoved at his thigh with your foot and giggled when he caught it in his hand and threw it back. It sent you both laughing and soon you abandoned your soup bowl onto the table and took your little game to the next level, diving onto him before you were promptly flipped onto your back and pinned under König, resuming your usual position.

“Poor Sneak,” he laughed ominously. “Still hellbent on defending the Germans?”

“If I say yes are you gonna do that thing I hate?”

“Only one way to know for sure.”

You huffed out a breath and weighed up your options, deciding if it was really worth being tickled just to keep teasing him. In the end, you didn’t get to decide, you winced as you felt a firework of pain burst through your head and closed your eyes for a second, bunching them shut like you could forget about it behind the darkness of your closed lids. Suddenly you were grateful you were lying down surrounded by the soft topaz sheets. 

“Are you ok? Did I hurt you?” König gasped, stroking his thumb over your cheek. 

“I’m alright, it wasn’t anything you did,” you assured after a second, taking in a deep breath. “I think it’s time for me to take my meds actually. Is it after eight thirty?”

König leaned up from you and rooted around for his phone. You prayed you were right. 

“Yeah, Eight forty. If you sit up, I’ll get them out for you.”

You followed through with his request, inching up the covers and seething with every little jarring shake the bed gave you. It felt like your head was going to burst into a confetti cloud with the amount of pressure that was building. You couldn’t wait till the headaches were done with. 

“Here, take these,” König murmured, handing you the pills and your forgotten glass of water.

You threw them back and drank down a big gulp of water, focusing on not choking as you swallowed them as fast as you could. This was one of the worst pains you’d had with it since it’d happened. Stars twinkled at the edge of your vision until slowly, after a little breathing and König stroking your back, you were able to open your eyes and stare back him as he watched you those big doleful eyes of his. 

“I’m alright now, it’s ok,” you smiled, trying to reassure him. 

“Mm, it’s far from ok,” König hissed, staring harshly to his side for a moment. “If I ever get my hands on those who did this to you, they’ll be sorry.”

You widened your eyes a moment as his fury sunk in and both of you stared at each other for a tense minute. You sat hoping your understanding of the situation might be infectious, wishing he’d accept that they’d just gotten the upper hand. What happened wasn’t personal. He shook his head and let the heat escape him, the fire left his eyes and deflated him, leaving him staring down at the bed a moment until you spoke again. 

“I know how I’d feel if it were the other way around,” you sighed, knowing he’d need a little reassurance you weren’t going to run terrified. “But you don’t need to be angry for me. I’m fine, this’ll all be better in a few days, ok?”

He didn’t speak for a second, not until he looked back up at you. 

“Ok.”

“Good. Now, c’mere and give me a hug so I feel better.”

His smile returned, curving back onto his lips like magic. You smiled in turn and watched as he put your meds back in the drawer by your bedside, but frowned when he paused and stared inside. He chucked the foil packet back in its place but reached in and retrieved whatever had caught his attention, bringing it front of you in the palm of his hand.

“What’s this?” he asked curiously. 

You tilted your head and smiled as you realised it was the wooden swallow you’d unpacked from your bag earlier and shrugged. 

“It was the bird I got from the market that day,” you explained. “I found it when I was going through my bag today and chucked it in the drawer.”

He raised his brows and brought the little figure closer to his face, admiring the fine details of it not dissimilarly to the way you’d stared at it in the market. You tilted your head as you watched him and bit your lip, watching the way his eyes took in the little bird with an intense fascination. 

“Why don’t you keep it?” you offered. “And then you let me wear this for the rest of the week.”

You rolled your shoulders, showing that you wanted to keep the shirt. König chuckled, but after pretending to be deep in thought about it, sporting a deep frown and a pursed lip, he eventually nodded. 

“I suppose I could allow that… we can have shared custody. I get the bird one week and then the shirt for the next,” he said, coming to rest by your side with his arm outstretched, making the bird fly in looping patterns in the air. “Deal?”

You laughed to yourself, but nodded, settling into his warm chest with a satisfied sigh. 

“Sounds like a good deal to me.”

Next Part Here

[eff4freddie]

Touch | Part Three

Of bar fights and ice blocks

Words: 4.3

Part Two | Series Masterlist | Part Four

Warnings: slow burn to the point we might just be embers, eventual smut but next chapter I promise, teeny bit of blood, quite a lot of masculine nonsense, Joel is hot but remains grumpy

When you were in eighth grade you fell madly in love with Johnny Hocart. He was a theatre kid, wildly charismatic for a 14 year old boy, and smart enough to recognise that you had a crush on him and use you for it. You’d signed up to help out with the school play that year, Johnny being the lead in Death of a Salesman the only motivation for your sudden interest in the arts, and he turned you into his roadie almost immediately. You used your own money to fetch him chocolate from the vending machine, you carried his water bottle around behind him on the off chance he might be thirsty. The afternoon you applied his eyeliner for him, on tippy toes and terrified to topple over and take his eye out in the process, fuelled your first fumbled attempt at an orgasm (you wouldn’t get it right until eleventh grade, but you had fun figuring it out). He made you feel something heavy and relentless and heated in your chest, something that unfurled its wings and beat against your rib cage when he walked into view. The little shit let you dote on him hand and foot right up until the wrap party when he stuck his hand up Donna D’Marco’s skirt and spent the rest of the year bragging about it. You were crushed by it, the weight of the humiliation heavy on your shoulders, slumping you forward and folding you into yourself. You vowed to never forget it. But you had, until you met Joel.

Sitting in the mess hall you wondered what happened to Johnny Hocart on outbreak day. You liked the idea that he hadn’t died immediately, that he’d lived in fear for a few months before getting shot by a raider, or maybe that he’d been traded to a slaver and collapsed one day from exhaustion, from malnutrition. You hated to think of him as a clicker, because even though he was a dick no one deserved that, but at the same time you liked the kind of dramatic irony of him as a bloater, overblown as his ego had been.

You chewed your sandwich, one eye on the door, waiting for Marla and definitely not waiting for Joel. You thought instead about the clients you had booked in for the afternoon, and how you were going to finally sort out Peter Fletcher’s tennis elbow so that he could comfortably hold his rifle, and why didn’t they call it rifle elbow since that sounded so much cooler, and you considered all of this while you kept your head down, and very purposefully didn’t think about the hazel flecks in Joel’s eyes as he gazed up at you, one hand cupping and lifting his muscle while you stood square between his knees.

He’d been grumpy and dismissive, you reminded yourself, and the minute he’d felt some relief he had just up and left. You conveniently forgot the part where you had essentially ushered him out the door, suddenly keen to exorcise your living space of him. You weren’t even sure exactly what that was about, except that you had felt the first flutterings of a wing against your ribs, had recognised the feeling as something dangerous and done your best to quash it.

You were contemplating this when a shadow appeared at your table, and you startled.

‘Shit, sorry, just me,’ Ray said, and you craned your neck up to regard him. ‘Can I?’ he asked, pulling at the chair opposite you, and you nodded while you tried to calm your heart. You could see something was up.

‘You ok?’ you asked, when he was finished apologising.

‘Me and my stupid glorious brain,’ he said, and you were tempted not to let him go on any further. ‘I intercepted a message that read like it was raiders, something about a big stash, an old pharmacy that hadn’t been hit yet. Coordinates, too.’

‘That’s great,’ you said, watching his face carefully, studying the lines across his forehead, his furrowed brow, decoding Jackson’s best decoder. ‘It’s not great,’ you concluded.

‘They called in a bunch of patrols to go check it out,’ he said, and suddenly you imagined Joel on the back of a horse, leaning to the left to try and protect his right side, gun strapped to his back and his neck muscles straining under the ache of it. You grimaced. ‘Marla’s was one of them,’ Ray finished, oblivious to your sudden turmoil.

It was a poorly kept secret that Ray was in love with Marla. Poorly kept in that the only person who didn’t seem to know was her. You suspected Ray would have happily stayed put in Chicago were it not for Marla going arse over tit for the idea of living on a ranch. She had barely had to convince him to come with you both, such that he had offered to trade and borrow to get the supplies you’d need, parting with his mother’s wedding ring that he wore on a chain around his neck in the process. You weren’t even sure if Marla noticed, as it had been lost in the service of gaining three passable sleeping bags, and Marla had wrapped her arms around Ray’s neck and kissed behind his ear when he presented them to you, and you had seen in that moment that for Ray it had been enough.

You could tell Jackson hadn’t been what he expected, not least of all now having to share Marla with an entire town.

‘Ray, you did a good thing,’ you said, reaching out and putting your hand on his bicep. He nodded his head, slowly.

‘You heading to the Bison tonight?’ he asked, and you scrambled quickly to come up with an excuse.

‘I was going to check on Maria,’ you replied, grateful for your guilt reminding you that you’d still not caught up with her. ‘It’s been a while since I saw her, and she’s due soon-ish I think. I was going to take her some dinner.’

He looked at you, his mouth downturned and his brows saddled over his eyes, and you felt yourself retracting from his sadness, from his regret. Johnny Hocart had painted your face in similar colours.

‘Yeah, ok,’ you said. You tried hard not to show on your face that the idea was making your skeleton want to crawl out of your mouth and try its luck on the road. But you could see Ray was struggling, that he was bouncing his leg up and down under the table. ‘Marla’s a fighter,’ you said. He looked at you for a long moment, then nodded his head.

‘Bison. Tonight,’ he said, with finality.

You didn’t ask if he knew who else was going on the expedition. You reminded yourself you didn’t care, taking a big swig of water to drown the butterflies.

—

Propped up at a table off to the side, you had a clear view of the bar on your right and the door on your left. You were sitting with Ray and his friend that you didn’t know, and you were trying to participate in conversation but your guts were churning. As much as you wanted to stay in the moment, you couldn’t stop yourself scanning the crowd for threats. Someone smashed a glass over by the jukebox and you felt yourself startle, nearly knocking your own drink off the table. Over by the bar Chloe Bennett, owner of lumbar back problems and occasional sciatica, demonstrated how much her yelping laugh sounded like a woman being stabbed to death with her own stiletto, and you wanted very much to push your chair back and leg it, but Ray kept glancing at you to check you were ok, and his friend Simon seemed quite nice generally speaking, and if nothing else you might be able to drum up some more business out of him.

‘So you don’t charge anything?’ Simon was asking. Simon and Ray worked the radio together most days, Ray listening in to the white noise for any sign of covert communication, and Simon dutifully twisting the knobs beside him. Some part of you registered that he was conventionally attractive, and you wondered if the way he was leaning in to you as you chatted was what passed for flirting in an apocalypse, but also you were watching Ray scanning for Marla, trying to telepathically tell him it would be ok.

‘I mean, we don’t have money,’ you answered Simon.

‘You don’t barter then?’

‘I’m grateful to be here. My home is payment. My safety is payment.’

‘I don’t buy it,’ he said, and he was grinning and you knew that it was playful, but also you felt a wrinkle of frustration in the folds of your skin.

‘You don’t agree?’ Simon shrugged at you in response, and for a reason still not clear to you it made you want to slap him a little bit. You turned to Ray for help, but Ray was looking at the door, and when you looked too you saw Tommy and Joel had just walked in.

‘Fuck,’ Ray said, and you scanned his face for anxiety but found only awe. ‘They are so cool.’

Simon nodded in agreement, and you scoffed in surprise.

‘Are they?’ you asked, and your companions turned to you, confused, and Ray even slightly betrayed.

‘Tommy basically keeps this place going, him and Maria,’ Simon informed you as if this was news.

‘Peak Mama and Daddy Jackson,’ Ray chimed in.

‘Joel. He’s just…’ All three of you turned to watch him approach the bar, nodding to the bartender, who had started pouring him a whiskey the moment he walked in, and slid it over to him.

You weren’t sure how you wanted Simon to finish that sentence. Your eyes kept being drawn to Joel, the broadness of him, the salt and pepper in his hair in stark contrast to his strength, the power under his muscles and behind his eyes. You felt warm in your palms where you had held him, flexed your fingers to try and get the heat out.

You let the conversation move on without you, staring down at your drink, tracing the droplets of condensation first from the body of the glass and then down to the tabletop. If you hadn’t rushed him out would he have let you keep massaging him? Would you have peeled his shirt from his body and explored the planes of his skin? You wiped the water away before it could damage the wood.

‘They’re heading out tomorrow, first light,’ you heard Ray saying, and suddenly your attention snapped back to the present. ‘So I want to be on the radio early, before they go. See if we can find the signal again, make sure the raiders aren’t going in first.’

‘You said you thought they were further out,’ Simon pointed out. ‘That it was bouncing off the mountain.’

‘I know but we’re a day behind.’

‘That’s a lot of ground to cover.’

‘Not on horseback,’ Ray reasoned.

‘We don’t know if they have horses,’ Simon replied. He held his hands palm up on the table, in appeasement, you realised.

‘We don’t know that they don’t, either. We’re sending seven of our people out there…’ your stomach lurched at seven, and your eyes flicked again to Tommy and Joel, and you wondered if tonight was last drinks for them, not knowing if they would both make it back, a time for two brothers to come together before heading back into war. ‘…including Marla, and I just want to-‘

‘What does Marla have to do with it?’ Simon asked, and you decided then he was either an idiot or heartless, and neither option was preferable. You exhaled slowly through your teeth, and watched Ray for his reaction, and wondered if either of them would notice if you just slipped away into the crowd.

You watched Ray gather himself. ‘Marla is a good shot,’ he said, eventually.

You could feel Simon preparing to argue but suddenly there was yelling, actual yelling not imaginary traumatised-by-the-end-of-the-world yelling, and all three of you turned to the bar.

Jacob and another man you didn’t recognise were standing at the other end of the bar, pointing fingers at Joel and Tommy. Joel had already stepped around his little brother, squaring off with them, and you could see that his body was braced, a tightly wound spring in a flannel shirt and jeans. You picked your glass up off the table and cradled it to your chest, as if that would solve it.

You didn’t know Jacob. He was one of the men who had already decided he didn’t own muscles, or feel pain. You knew that he was younger than the men he was squaring off with, that he was full of bravado and empty of brains, the type to shoot first and think later, and it wasn’t lost on you that back in the day he would have made the type of cop that was the subject of several enquires and a few unflattering news items, who would have been shunted off to be the deputy of a shithole town that’s biggest crime wave was when a couple of cookbooks went missing from the local library, a town that he nevertheless tortured until he retired.

Jacob was currently yelling so hard spittle was flying across the bar, and you could make out the carotid artery along his red neck.

‘All well and good for you two,’ he was saying. ‘Sitting back while the real men go out and defend this town.’ Joel was moving forward towards him, despite Tommy pulling on his sleeve to bring him back, and everyone in the bar was now frozen, watching. Jacob continued, because he was as dumb as he was hateful. ‘Oh I’m on the fucking town council, that means I get to decide who lives and who dies without having to put my own arse on the line. Fuckin’ weak, pathetic-‘

‘Lower your voice,’ Joel said, completely calm and also utterly terrifying. Jacob laughed, actually laughed, in Joel’s face.

‘Fuck off old man,’ he spat, taking another step towards Joel, who wouldn’t back down. ‘You don’t get a say either, ridin your little brother’s dick all the way to retirement.’

‘It’s men and women,’ Joel continued, undeterred and still deathly calm. One afternoon on the road you’d come across a snake on the path, big and brown and poised with its head up, watching you. It had taken you ten minutes to back away from it, so sure it was about to lunge. Watching Joel now, inching forward towards Jacob, you had the same feeling. Jacob wasn’t following Joel, made too stupid by his misplaced entitlement, his anger and his impotent fury. ‘We are sending the real men and women to defend this town, and Tommy and I’ll be here to keep it safe while you’re gone.’

You exhaled for the first time all day, the tension you didn’t even know you were carrying with you suddenly releasing. But Jacob was more angry now, and Tommy was backing up Joel and squaring off too, and you felt the heat in the room ratchet up.

‘I’m having a baby, you fuck,’ Tommy said, and Joel raised his hand to calm him. Tommy immediately settled back behind his bigger brother.

‘Not to say we ain’t grateful,’ Joel continued, but Jacob had noticed that the whole bar was watching, that Joel was about to talk him out of an argument, that he was about to be alpha’d by a man twice his age. He took three steps forward toward Joel, who had already reached back to push Tommy out of the way, and Jacob’s arm was swinging just a fraction slower than Joel’s, who clocked the younger man hard in the jaw and sent him spinning, landing hard on the top of the bar and shattering glasses and bottles underneath him. He was only down for a second before he was back up and swinging, landing a blow on Joel’s eye socket before he and Tommy had him by the back of the collar. You realised you had stood up and had moved towards them only when you were close enough to hear Joel grunt ‘a fuckin bar fight, really? You that fuckin clichè?’

Jacob just grunted, his airway constricted by his shirt that Joel was now using as a vice, and even in the middle of the violence you could see he was careful not to compress harder than he needed to, holding him sturdy but without gripping so hard as to injure.

The four men headed for the door, Joel pushing Jacob through first and then following, using the momentum to swing the younger man out and down the stairs and into the dirt below. His friend rushed to him, pulling him up and away, and as you followed them out you heard Jacob spitting threats of his return. Joel was puffed, leant against the railing to catch his breath. He turned to his brother, checked on him, and then to you, where his eyebrows shot up and you realised he was seeing you only now. Your breath caught in your throat. You had no idea what you were doing there, either.

‘You’re hurt,’ you said after a moment, gesturing to his fist. You could see a scrape of blood pooling on the knuckle.

‘Ain’t broken,’ he said. Turning to Tommy he more or less ignored you. ‘You ok?’ he asked. Tommy nodded, before he also nodded to Joel’s fist.

‘Take him to ours,’ he said to you. ‘We got ice in the freezer. Time to work some more miracles.’

You were alarmed, pretty much constantly, but especially so when Tommy turned back to go inside.

‘You’re not coming?’ you asked, and you hated that your panic had carried through into your voice.

‘Gotta make it right here,’ he said, without turning around.

—

The walk to Maria’s was three minutes at most and still you would have flayed your own skin clean off not to have to do it. You could feel the wings now, beating hard against your rib cage, and you swallowed only to taste acid on the back of your tongue. Joel was silent, but it was the type of silence that belies being pissed off, a general curmudgeon-ing, that set you on edge.

You thought again back to your teacher. When the clients in pain, keep them talking.

‘How’s the shoulder?’ you asked, into the darkness in front of you instead of looking at Joel’s face.

‘Thought it wasn’t my shoulder,’ he said, and it took a second for you to realise he was teasing you, not goading. ‘S’ok, I hear it’s all connected,’ he pretend to console you, and you squawked out a surprised laugh, wondering if you’d ever, up until this moment, made a sound like that before.

At no point had you considered that Joel Miller could be funny. Now, though, you discovered you had even less of an idea of how to talk to him.

‘You’re not going out on the run?’ you asked, and you hoped not to sound too relieved, too hopeful.

‘Got things to look out for at home,’ he said, and you stayed quiet in the hope that he would keep talking. ‘Ellie and me, we had a rough time of it…she’s been quiet. Thought best to…’ he trailed off.

‘Maria said you went to Salt Lake?’ you asked, and because you were still unable to look at him you didn’t see him flinch. ‘Why did you have to go there?’ you continued on.

‘Didn’t realise Maria liked to gossip so much,’ he said, and you heard it then, the hardness of it.

You rushed to defend her. ‘I was just curious,’ you started, and Joel stopped you, stopped walking altogether. You turned back to him.

‘Dangerous thing,’ he said, and you wanted to tell him that you knew that, that you weren’t normally like that, that you were clever and you had survived this long because if it, but he was already turning up the path to Maria and Tommy’s place, and all you could do was trail behind him, like a fucking lap dog, worried he’d lock you out if you took too long to get inside.

From the couch Maria called for Tommy, and when Joel responded she pulled herself up to stand. You were surprised by how big she’d gotten, trying to remember the last time you’d seen a pregnant woman. Let alone a pregnant woman about to pop.

‘I know, I’m huge,’ she said, when she saw you staring and you snapped your eyes back to her face.

‘Radiant,’ you said, and she snorted.

‘Thank you for lying,’ she replied, and you felt the warmth of genuine affection between the two of you, thought for a moment of sunshine on your skin, of your sister.

‘Tommy said you had ice,’ Joel cut in, and Maria noticed Joel’s hand, her face hardening.

‘They started it,’ Joel said, and you nodded behind him to confirm that this was indeed true. You saw the suspicion in her eyes, the way she was careful with him, and you stepped forward, taking his elbow.

‘I’ll sort it,’ you said, smiling with what you hoped was confidence. Joel looked down at your hand on his arm, then up to your face, where you ignored his obvious indignation at being herded like a child. ‘On we go,’ you said, feeling like a deranged grade school teacher, trying to get her class of unruly six year olds through to 3 pm unscathed. You didn’t see the bemused look on Maria’s face as you pushed Joel down the hallway, but you wouldn’t have wanted to anyway.

Once again you found yourself crammed into a kitchen with Joel. Sitting him at the table you put some ice in a cloth then plopped down into the chair beside him and held out your hand. He stared at you, unmoving.

‘I can do this,’ he said, and you were tired then, having dealt with quite a lot of male bullshit in just the last two hours, and so you groaned and pulled his hand to you, holding him firm by the wrist lest he try and patriarchy his way out again.

‘I can do it better,’ you said simply, and he huffed out a laugh.

‘Now that I don’t deny,’ he said, and it was quiet, just barely muttered between the two of you, and when you looked up into his eyes you found that they were crinkled with something like amusement, something like affection.

You looked down, flexed his fingers for him, heard him hold his breath when you inspected the knuckle.

‘They teach you this in school, too?’ he asked, and you heard again that he was ribbing you. You decided it was a good sign.

‘No this is purely growing up with a daredevil older sister,’ you replied.

‘Family resemblance, then,’ he replied and you looked up at him sharply, angry for a second that he was calling you meek, that he was deriding you for a perfectly normal reaction to the collapse of society, but you saw nothing on his face that belied any aggression. If anything, you saw warmth.

‘This sore?’ you asked, just gently wresting a fingertip on the bone. His hands were big, with thick and powerful fingers, and you were doing your absolute best not to consider what they could do to you, if you let them.

‘S’alright,’ he murmured. For a moment you saw outside yourself, watched you hunched over inspecting the paw of a lion, a little mouse reaching in to extract a thorn.

‘Here?’ you said, hushed under the light of Maria’s kitchen. You pressed down slightly, on exactly the same spot, and heard his breath stutter. You realised the makeshift ice pack was too bulky to fit between his knuckles, so you opened it and took a block out, resolutely not looking up into his face.

‘Tell me if this is too cold,’ you said, holding the block between your fingers and running it gently over his skin.

‘Mmhmm,’ he hummed, gently. You kept the ice moving, your eyes watching his hand for any sign of a tremble, but he stayed resolute under your touch.

The heat of his skin started to melt it, cold water running down and snaking under his palm, between his fingers. It washed away the blood, so that you could see only scratches, surface abrasions, from where knuckle met jaw. You watched the pink of it, mixing with the water, little rivers of something precious, something Joel. You were aware only of your finger tips, the push of wings against your chest present but forgotten, as you witnessed him, his essence. As you gazed down on the thing that made him, that kept him, the life in his veins. As the block melted down to just a wafer, as it healed, sealed over the hurt, you lifted it to your mouth to taste it, wanting the iron and the tang of it, the sharpness of the cold mixed with the heat of him, of your open mouth.

You heard his breath hitch. Your eyes flew open, not having realised you’d closed them, and landed on his face, where you gasped when you saw the look of pure wanting, of pure desire, painted pink and red over his features. You dropped his hand in your panic, your face burning, your legs moving before your brain had even taken a moment to collect itself.

‘Thanks Maria I gotta go think Joel will be fine I hope you’re ok will drop some food around you’re the most beautiful pregnant lady I’ve ever seen take care bye’ you vomited, gathering your coat tight around your shoulders and wanting but not wanting, terrified but hoping, to hear footsteps down the hall behind you. You wrenched the door open, felt the welcome rush of cool on your face, already halfway down the porch before you heard it slam shut behind you.

You sprinted, shuffling over ice but not slowing, back to your home. As you went you followed the wall, wondering how it could have made you feel safe now that you were trapped behind it, wondering how you could possibly live with the snake poised to lunge at you, how you could outrun it when it had taken up home inside your belly, beside your breath.

Tag list (just learned what these are, lemme know if you want me to add you)

@orcasoul

[kiame-sama]

Dragon headvanon guy here again because a few more dropped into my head (also sorry for the typos, I'm not used to my phones big keyboard yet xD also 100% relate to you on the plushies, I have a big collection on my.own and love them with all my heart)

1. Most if not all Creatures love to be pet, it's common to see children & sometimes young teens being pet by their parents, older siblings or close friends. The older they fet the less likely they get petted tho, older Fae's and long lived Creatures tho remember that Humans would pet anyone who allowed it with great joy.

2. We know that Humans are seen as Peackeepers (or Beast Tamers) but I like to headcanon that they are also a symbol of Loyalty in many Kingdoms. Some older Creatures, like Lilia even remember Humans going through great dangers or sacrificing themself for their Pack.

An old Rumor has it that one of the Great Seven was actually once pack bounded with a human who sacrificed themself for them. (It would be an intresting idea if it was Scar and after he died many mistook the Human Sacrificing themself for him as him killing them & eating them. But you guys can go wild with this one)

3. Angry humans were a raresight to see and most only learned how dangerous humans could be once a Creature attacked a child and had to be send to a hospital after the Parent of said child got their revenge. It's also at that point that many learned how dangerous a human bite can be thanks to the bacteria in their mouth (that information sadly got lost to time though)

4. This is the last one for now, promise xD A lot of Kingdoms who were safe for humans, would have human daycares where they would watch over the Creatures kids. It was something unheard of since a lot of Creatures dont trust their young and rather weak children around others they dont know (and sometimes even close friends & family couldn't get close to the child without nearly being mauled.)

But it was a bit sucess and since it was free, low income familys would adly send their kids there to get food and have a chance at making friends. Some daycares even allowed sleepovers for Creatures who worked during the night, kids who were night active or those who weren't picked up because their parents worked late.

Sadly after humans went extinct these establishments were shutdown.

Ok one last one, this one is for the Fleur City; It's belived that humans created the Bell as a gift to the Rightous Judge who them upon getting this gift enchanted the Bell to ring in a specific tune when a human entred Fleur City.

Legends say that once the last human in Fleur City died and they went extinct as last that the Bell rung in such a sorrowfull way with the Rightous Judges cries that the spirit of the last Human in Fleur Ciry granted him a last gift. The Firelotus, so that any Magical Creature who dares to harm an Innocent Creature will be punished by humanitys judgment.

(No worries about the typos, I'm pretty bad about it too)

I'm down for all of these actually. Absolutely love how some canon things can so easily fall into place with just a little adjustment and work so wonderfully in an AU all its own.

I can see almost all of them wanting to be pet and of course hoping the soft human will pet them. Rook's already been pet by those little Human hands and he is already hooked. I could absolutely see Jack and Ruggie going nuts for petting. Lilia's already made it clear that group grooming is common so petting would likely be too. Maybe that's the Human's way of returning the grooming behavior to make Lilia sleep? Lilia has already petted Grim.

The last Human Lilia met was the surrogate mother of a young fox fae child and he will be forever haunted by how injured she was and still standing, unsure how long she must have fought to keep her young safe. Lilia had arrived near the end of the poor Human's desperate battle, stepping in himself but it was quite too late for the Human mother. He took in the child and raised them himself in Briar Valley, Silver is not the only child the old fae has taken under his wing. Lilia knows the sheer drive humans have to protect those they truly love because he saw it firsthand and he knows better than to mess with little Grim regardless of how much fun it would be. No need to upset the Human.

Humans were quite good at taking care of others young and many had a natural proclivity to protect infants regardless of what species it was. Humans aren't really all too threatening, so many mothers of the more protective species didn't feel that threat to themselves or their young like they did with other species or even their own family. Many are quite manageable as children and almost harmless, meaning the soft Humans could take care of them with no problem.

To make a world of magical creatures tremble in fear is a mighty feat and one only the fire lotus could achieve. After all, so many looked down on humans for their lack of magic, why not suffer the same fate for those who brought Humanity to heel?