#on my own again but i need to gently shoo it away and just...let this support in ;;

[thebestandworstdayofjune]

desperate people find faith

summary: your first mission ends with you in Jean's lab and a very worried Logan who's had trouble leaving your side wc: 2.0k a/n: thank you thank you so much for all of your very positive feedback on the previous fics with these two!!! I am really looking forward to writing more for them, so please feel free to send any requests for them my way, or Logan requests in general! And yes, the title is from a Taylor Swift song again. Lots of hurt/comfort in this one, talks of mushy gushy feelings, very worried Logan find the previous part here! all empath!reader fics here!

You took the cold table underneath you as a sign that something had gone wrong. You peaked one eye open before quickly squeezing it closed, the bright florescent lights too much to handle. You took a beat, trying to make sense of your surroundings. 

You remembered the jet landing in what seemed like the middle of nowhere, you and Jean searching an abandoned building looking for the young mutant that Charles had promised would be there and coming up empty. The two of you had made your way back to the jet and.. shit. The kid had freaked, and you distinctly remember taking enough damage to warrant a swift retreat back to the school. You must be downstairs, in Jean’s lab. It’s probably a bad sign that the first thing you worry about how much shit Logan is going to give you for this. 

You reached out with your power, too cautious of the lights (and the judgment of the rest of the team) to look with your eyes. A few people were mildly worried just across the room, but it was hard not to be distracted by the huge amounts of anger and exhaustion on your left. You debated facing him head on, being a grown up about it and fessing up to the fact that you were wrong. Thankfully, you could be immature when the situation called for it. You attempted to even out your breathing and smooth out the crease between your eyebrows, anything that could give you away. 

“Sweetheart?” Logan’s voice is so much softer than you were expecting, based on the waves of pure fury currently radiating off of him. 

You shush him, blinking one eye open. “I’m sleeping.” You whisper, letting your eye fall shut again. 

You felt his hand gently brush over the top of your head. His voice is closer, air tickling your ear as he leans down beside you. “Been sleeping for three days, bub. Need you to wake up now.” 

You turn your head to the side and are treated to Logan dropping a small kiss on your forehead. You can’t help but smile at the affection, eyes half open against the bright lights. After a few moments, they dim. Jean takes her place on the other side of the table, lab coat on and stethoscope in hand. You expected her to shoo Logan away in the name of a more thorough analysis but she doesn’t even attempt it. 

Logan’s hand finds your own, gripping tight enough to be just short of uncomfortable. Jean makes quick work of taking your diagnostics, and gently informs you that besides feeling fatigued, you are just fine. 

That can’t be right. 

You know that you caught the brunt of the impact, it was beginning to come back to you. The young mutant had lashed out, and before you’d had the chance to get close, he’d sent a car flying towards you and Jean. She’d managed to counteract it with her own mutation, firmly shoving you out of the way. But she hadn’t been fast enough to catch the small metal spikes he’d also thrown. There was no way you should be ‘just fine’ by now. 

Either Jean was in your head or the confusion was showing clearly on your face. She gave you a tight smile, eyes darting between you and the door. She took a few steps back, clearly intent of making her exit. “Jean, wait, there’s no way-”

She gave you her please stop talking smile. “I think it’s best if this comes from him,” she nodded at Logan, placing her stethoscope and clipboard on the side table. “I’ll be back in a bit to do one final check before we clear you.” She gives you another smile that didn’t meet her eyes, and then she was gone. 

You began to sit up slowly, still in shock that there was little to no pain, only stiffness from being immobile for too long. “What is she talking about?” Logan huffed, supporting you with a hand on your back. “What’s going on?” 

One hand made long, slow strokes up and down your spine, while the other had not loosened it’s grip on your own since you’d woken up. His eyebrows were scrunched together, the tell tale sign of his thinking face. You tried your best not to rush him, but everything about the situation was so confusing and your mind was racing. You were far too healed, and he was being far too calm for the anger that was rolling off go him, still. 

“Didn’t expect me to just sit around when you came back one foot in the grave, did ya?” 

“I’m sorry if me coming back banged up gave you extra work, I just don’t understand why you’re so upset with me.” 

His eyes went wide, the hand on your back stilling. “I’m not mad at you, sweetheart.” The tremble in his voice almost had you convinced. 

“Don’t lie to me about it,” you help up your hand, still firmly entwined with his. “I can tell.” 

“I’m notmad at you, bub.” He brought the back of your hand to his lips, peppering it with kisses. “I’m mad at the little fuck who did this to you, I’m mad that they let this happen, and I’m furious with myself that I wasn’t there.” 

“He’s just a kid, Logan.” 

His shoulders shook with silent laughter, a stark white dancing at the edge of his emotions now. Shock. “You almost died, and your first instinct is to defend the little asshole responsible.” 

You leaned forward, bumping your shoulder against his chest in warning. “I feel fine.” He nodded, taking a deep breath in through his nose while his hand not currently locked with yours resumed it’s path up and down your back. You let it go on for a few moments, appreciating the silence and the grounding effect of his touch. “Do you… wanna fill me in on why exactly that is?” 

He sucked in a breath, shoulders visibly tense. “We were lucky that Hank was stopping by for a visit.” He played with your fingers, distracting himself. You tilted your head to the side, wondering why that information was important at a time like this. “When they brought you in, god there was so much blood. Jean managed to take care of a lot of it, but she didn’t know when, or uh, if you were going to wake up.” He blew out a breath, steadying himself. “You know that Hank has been asking for a long time-”

Both of your hands gripped his tightly. “Tell me you didn’t.” 

Hank had been asking for ages to use some of Logan’s blood to synthesize a more advanced healing serum for the X-Men. It was rare they came back with more than bumps and bruises, but he was a worrier and felt that Logan was the key to making something truly effective. The only problem? Logan hated needles. You’d only gotten bits and pieces from him about why, but you had a hunch that when you were alive for as long as he had been, people were willing to poke and prod for some answers. He’d never admit it, but you had felt how terrified he was the last time he’d been down hard after a mission, and Jean had tried to give him an IV of fluids to speed up the regeneration. It hadn’t ended well, to say the least. 

“I should’ve done it sooner. Seeing you like this, knowing I could have done something about it.” He shook his head, clearing his thoughts. 

Cautiously, you fit yourself against him, arms tight around his neck and your chest flush with his own. You half expected him to reprimand you, to remind you that you should be careful, not to move too much. Instead, he held you tightly, the side of his face pressed against the top of your head. The two of you stayed like that for a good long while, reveling in the comfort of the other. 

“I know you think that you only did it because,” you paused, steeling yourself. “Because it was me.” You can feel him trying to pull away, but you mold yourself to him even more tightly, knowing that if he really wanted to he could break away from you like it was nothing. “You’re wrong. You would have done this for anyone.” 

“Except for-”

“Even for Scott.” You were quick to cut him off, unwilling to hear him being so harsh on himself.

You pulled back, just enough so that you were able to meet his eyes. You needed him to know that you are being earnest. “You are a good man, Logan. And before you even try to deny it or say I’m lying I know you can hear my heart beat. And I know you can tell when people are lying. And besides, I’ve never ever lied to you, have I?” He shakes his head slowly, one tear falling, and a few more after that. You reached up, brushing them away. He grabbed your hand, gently placing a kiss on your wrist, and then your palm. 

“Y’scared me, sweetheart.” He murmured, voice muffled by your palm still against his lips. “Don’t ever do that again.” 

You slide your hand to cup the side of his face, prompting him to meet your gaze. “You know I can’t guarantee that.” His eyes closed for a moment, and you knew he was doing his best not to shout. “I will always be careful, but I can’t stay back and leave the work to everyone else. If I can help, I’m gonna help.” 

His eyes narrowed, the tiniest hint of a smirk playing at his lips. “Fine. But we’re getting you trained up and you aren’t going out there without me again for a good long while.” 

You rolled your eyes, the both of you well aware there was no ill will behind it. “If you insist.” 

“I absolutely do.” He pulled you back into his chest, keeping you there until Jean peaked her head in through the door. 

“If you two are done being mushy, there are a few people who have been dying to see you.” 

Ororo rushed into the room, playfully shoving Logan away to scoop you into her arms. She gently checked you over, ignoring the fact that you’d already had several medical professionals on the case. Scott clasped you on the shoulder, reassuring you that for a first mission, this was a success. You laughed before shooting Logan a look that begged him to let it pass. He huffed, but nodded all the same. 

“Shocked we didn't have to keep him from trying to tear the kid apart, but he refused to leave the lab.” Scott nodded his head at Logan, who was continuing to shuffle closer to the table where you sat. 

Well, you would be dutifully ignoring the latter half of Scott's quip, instead choosing to focus on the young mutant. “You mean he's?” 

Scott smiled, nodding. “He’s settling in upstairs.” 

You grinned, glad to know that it hadn’t all been for nothing. You fixed your gaze on Logan, narrowing your eyes at him. “Don’t even think about failing him out of history as some kind of weird revenge, I’ll know and I will find a way to get back at you for it.” 

Your friends laughed around you, let you know that Charles has ordered in your favorite take out for dinner and started to filter out of the room. Eventually, you and Logan are left alone again, sitting side by side on the metal table. 

“You still owe me an important conversation, ya know.” You bump your shoulder against his. You stay there, pressed against his side with your head leaning on his shoulders. His hand rests on your shoulder, holding you close. 

“Maybe wait until you aren’t in a hospital gown, sweetheart.” You rolled your eyes, clearly aware that he was deflecting, but still content to take in his warmth and quiet support. You were safe, and you were home. Not just at school, but with him.

[lmaowhatt]

LOVER BOY!JJ WITH A BABY

requested by: me! (lmao)

i just wanna see how i would interpret lover boy!jj with a baby! sorry😭

pairing: lover boy!jj x gf!reader

warnings: cursing, mentions of john b and sarah's baby, jj being cutesy

if theres any others feel free to let me know!

lover boy!jj masterlist | main masterlist

jj had finally acknowledged that john b and sarah’s kid was a real person about two months after she was born. even then, he wasn’t exactly sure how to exist in an environment he used to thrive in. back then, there was always a beer in hand or a blunt getting passed around—but now? after john b laid down the rule that none of that could happen within ten feet of their daughter, jj felt completely out of place.

jj was currently sitting with his legs stretched out on the pull-out couch, eyebrows furrowing when he glances at sarah, who was currently nursing baby josephine joy, a lightweight blacket draped over the baby and her shoulder as she watched whatever the rest of the pogues were debating about.

you tugged gently at his chin, "stop making that face at your goddaughter, j," you whispered, giving him a soft smile when he turned him head to glance at you. he narrowed his eyes at sarah one more time, eyes then trailing down to the tiny fist peeking out from under the blanket. "its hard not to," he muttered, leaning his head back on the back rest of the couch. he huffed out a small breath, lifting his head back up, "im not in my zone with... her like, right there."

giggling, you let your fingers trail down his arm, all the way to his hand until you two interlaced your fingers. "shes named after you, j. at least try to bond," you tilted your head up at him, pressing a kiss to his shoulder, "for me?" he sighed, like hed just been given the hardest task of his life. he turned to press a kiss to the top of your head, "fine, fine. for you, baby."

around ten minutes passed of john b and jj debating something that one would argue did not need to be debated and cleo laughing alongside them, eventually migrating to the backyard when sarah, who was now burping baby jj, shooed them away with a quiet glare only a new mom could gain. you smiled, watching jj soften slightly when a small burp echoed from the baby girls mouth.

you two watched sarah adjust baby jj in her arms so she could stand properly and make her way over to where you and jj were sitting. sarah took a seat on the armrest, "okay, hold your arms out," she directed, stifling a laugh when jj quite literally stuck his arms straight out.

she gently bounced the baby in her arms when she squirmed, rolling her eyes fondly and fixing her words, "okay—no. like youre holding a football, jj." he nodded, a small 'ah' leaving his lips as he adjusted his arms. he stiffened slightly when he felt the babys weight on his arms, not moving a muscle as sarah adjusted baby josies head into the crook of his arm. he leaned further into the couch, shoulders losing a bit of their previous tension.

sarah sat up straight again, rolling out her shoulders with a heavy sigh. "im gonna go... just fuckin' shower or something. you got her?" her question was directed more towards you but jj nodded absentmindedly, his attention fully drawn to the baby in his arms. you looked up at sarah with a small smirk playing on your lips, "we got her, sar." she nodded, dropping the burping cloth onto jjs lap and heading upstairs.

you turned back to jj, only to find him in his own world. he was staring down at baby josie, swaying her in his arms ever so slightly so she wouldnt squirm. you smiled, resting your head on his shoulder. "shes cute." you could hear the smile in his voice as he said that. "yeah, she is," you turned you head to catch how he looked at her. like she was a new addition into his world and somehow becoming one of the most important parts of it already.

it stayed like that for a couple of minutes, until josie started squirming, face scrunching and reddening slightly like she was about to cry. jj sat up straighter, eyes already staring a hole through the ceiling like he could summon sarah downstairs. "um," he muttered, wincing when a small cry echoed around the living room. "like what—um, what?" he turned to you, eyes already slightly frantic.

"hey, calm down," you smiled warmly, reaching a hand out to run down his back. "just, lift her so her head can rest on your shoulder. maybe she needs some more burping." he nodded along, doing what you said as you placed the burping cloth next to josies mouth. "see, youre a natural, baby," you teased as he began patting her back, ocassionally stopping to rub soothing circles on her back, then resuming his previous motions.

he sat back into the couch after a while, still patting josies back, willing her to burp. and when she finally did, she let out a physical sigh of relief, shifting the baby back to how he was holding her before. "okay, football... got it," he muttered to himself, fixing josies head into the crook of his arm while making sure her diapered butt was in the adjacent hand. he barely hummed when you told him youd be back, glancing up just in time to see you disapper up the stairs.

"hey, this baby things kinda easy, huh?" he whispered down at his goddaughter, dipping his head down to press a gentle kiss to the babys forehead. "well, guess for you it is. you dont do shit all day," he mumbled, "must be nice." he sighed, leaning back further into the couch, smiling when he caught the faint smile playing on her lips. "youre a cute kid. y'dont cry, love that for you." he trailed off, eyes darting around the room for a conversation starter.

he froze when she whimpered in his arms. he groaned lowly, "cmon kid, dont do that. we were just getting along," he mumbled when she continued, standing slowly and making sure she was secure in his arms as he made his way to the backyard where john b, pope, and cleo were. "jb? the hell do i do?" john bs head snapped up and he stood, slowly taking josie from jjs arms and holding her in his.

the two headed inside, john b shifting josie to one arm while moving to rummage around the kitchen to prepare a bottle. jj leaned against the counter, eyebrow raised at how easily john b handled the situation considering before josie, he was one of the biggest wildcards of the group. after preparing a bottle, he handed josie back to jj and making sure she was settled before testing the bottle on his wrist and handing it to him.

john b watched as jj slowly eased the bottle into baby jjs mouth, catching the small smile that appeared on his lips when she finally latched, tiny hands coming up to grip the bottle. "you like this kid, dont you?" jj looked up at john b, smile falling from his face, eyes darting away from him. he scoffed, " 'course not, just takin' care of the kid." john b nodded, a small "right, right," leaving his lips like he didnt believe him, because he didnt.

"just admit it, j!" john b called as he made his way back to the backyard. jj rolled his eyes, walking back over to the living room couch, sitting down slowly and letting his eyes drift back down to the baby in his arms. "i like you kid, you catch my drift. youre cool, i mean you got me as an uncle, bound to happen." he mumbled, easing the bottle back into her mouth when it fell out of her lips. he threw his head back on the couch, a soft sigh escaping his lips.

he sat back up, ducking his head down again to press a kiss to her temple, smiling when she shifted closer into him. "you and me, kid? were gonna be really good friends. i can see it. i got superpowers 'n shit y'know? im actually superjj. like superman, but better. dont tell anyone, though." his head darted up at the sudden movement in his peripheral, catching you standing at the bottom of the stairs with a smile playing on your face. his smile dropped.

"hey, get this kid away from me, my arms hurt."

[butterymangowrites]

distribution system

paring: cat hybrid kageyama tobio x fem reader

warnings: dub-con, smut, hybrid au, stray hybrid kageyama, social discrimination, power imbalance, domestic life, kageyama with his platinum face card, kageyama has a tail

word count: 4.2k

english is not my first language. please excuse any mistakes. thank you for reading!

Being a stray hybrid was exhausting. Tobio thought as he wandered around a new neighborhood trying to find food after every house in the last one shooed him away.

Being a stray hybrid was exhausting. Being a bone-thin, dirty black cat hybrid was worse. 

He looked ghastly—hair long to his chest, cheeks all sunken, and without a smile on his face, Tobio looked unapproachable. Some people said he might have rabies, warning their own hybrids to stay away; he was scared of that, too, but only because he didn’t know what it actually was, just that it was fatal and humans hated it. 

Did he have rabies? He felt fine though. Tobio thought as he put his hand through the narrow opening of a trash can that was likely to have some food waste in there. After some time rummaging through, he grabbed onto a bottle; it was milk. When he shook it softly and felt some milk left inside, Tobio got his dinner. 

“You shouldn’t drink that. You will get sick.” 

A voice interrupted when he was almost done with the meal. It was a human woman in very nice clothing, the kind he saw humans in the office area wear. His previous owner also wore something like this, the male one, the one who hit him when he was drunk and angry at his wife. The wife was his favorite of the two, always patted him gently on the head and gave him nice things—snacks, toys, letting him watch TV and play with a round leather ball in their small backyard. But when he knocked over some of the flower pots, the husband forbade him from touching the ball again. 

The wife disappeared one day, so Tobio ran away. 

“Here.” The human took something out of her shoulder bag and handed it to him. “Take this.”

It was an unopened, brand new milk bottle, looking exactly the same as the one he was holding. Too late, Tobio drank all of it, spoiled as it was, it filled his belly for the night. Together with the milk, Tobio saw a banana. He wanted that.

“Sorry, this is all I have.” 

It was funny thinking back to the first time he saw you, that it was the guilt in your voice that made Tobio carefully look past his long hair at you again. Being closer in order to take the food from your hand and seeing things clearer than before, he had never seen anyone so concerned about how they didn’t have more food to give away, concerned about him. And because being a stray hybrid was exhausting, Tobio really wanted a home. 

He finally succeeded that night. He found one, after roaming around for many years…

— 

High up on a building, that was your place. It wasn’t big, but Tobio didn’t mind. He was just happy to be warm and have a roof over his head. 

Your bathroom had a tub, small but deep, he could only fit in there if he sat with his knees up. He did that while he let you wash him, at a loss on how to adjust the water temperature and not knowing which was the shampoo and which was for the body cleaning. So he just sat there in silence, not even turning the water on so he didn’t cause any problems, till you knocked and asked if he needed help. 

Your hands were smooth, slathering the body wash over his back and chest while he watched you, his now-clean hair tied up with a big claw clip. Having his field of vision expanded made Tobio feel exposed, but it was not totally a bad feeling, just a bit foreign after many years of having it down to hide his face.

“You wash,” you pointed down to his crotch, “down there by yourself, okay?”

Tobio nodded, didn’t mind. He understood you didn’t want to touch him there, you probably didn’t want to touch him anywhere, only doing it out of necessity because he was such an incompetent cat who didn’t know how to use a human's shower. He used to know, he just forgot. Tobio hoped you were not mad. 

—

It was the next day when you took him to the hybrid clinic for a check-up. He was healthy, needed to put on some weight, yes, but fine nonetheless. The doctor said the hybrid was in his early 20s and prescribed some vitamins, and just like that, the visit ended. Before you left, one of the staff suggested you buy a collar. 

“Is it necessary?” you asked before looking around the waiting area and saw that every hybrid wore one. “Okay.” 

You bought one in a random color after trying to let the feline hybrid choose and he just stared at you. He was tall, hovering over most people in the clinic. You had to tell him to crouch down so you could put the newly purchased collar on his neck. It was blue, cartoon printed. This was why making rational decisions was important. 

Next stop was the haircut. This time you handed him a magazine and tried again by letting him pick a style for himself; however, he just pointed at the first model he saw. Nothing was wrong with a mohawk, and you would have believed it was a thought-through decision if he had turned the pages of the magazine a little and at least pretended to contemplate. He did neither. 

Same with the breakfast that morning, you asked if he wanted blueberry or strawberry jam on his toast, he answered with a nod. When asked again, he pointed at the jar closest to his hand and didn’t finish the toast.

The stray you brought home—Tobio—definitely understood human language and was not mute since he was the one whispering his name to you when you asked what he was called. For some reason, he just did not make decisions. And… he hated strawberry jam.

So you rectified that, selecting two most popular styles and let him choose again. But before he could point, you said, “This is your hair, Tobio. Yours. You can choose how you want your own hair to look.” 

He listened and blinked. And for the first time in twenty hours, Tobio took his time deciding between things. He picked the style that would get his bangs cut very short, and if his swishing tail was anything to go by, he seemed to like the end result very much. Despite his head looking like a coconut with a wig on, he still looked good, all because of his face. 

The man was strikingly handsome. Without all the matted hair masking his face, his features were bare to the beholder’s eye. Dark blue eyes, sharp jawline, small perky nose, and lips—though chapped and dry—were baby pink. He was a sight for sore eyes. 

Clothes, toiletries, and extra groceries that included cat food and snacks he admitted to liking were all carried by him. It was a long walk from place to place and from the train station to yours, but Tobio didn’t allow you to take any bag out of his hands. 

It was already dark when you entered your apartment. You unpacked the groceries and officially taught him how to use the shower, learning that he was illiterate when he asked if he remembered correctly which bottle was the shampoo and which was the conditioner. He got them mixed up but was right on the body wash because it was a different brand with a different label. 

What you did was point out the difference in the words written on the bottles, but the easiest way you could think of was to place them in fixed positions, so you did just that, temporarily resolving the problem.

“Shampoo on your left, conditioner on your right,” you told him, pointing at each respectively. “But don’t wash your hair today, that would be a waste of the products the salon put on it. Unless it—stinks?”

Tobio, who was sitting on the rim of the tub, touched his hair, trying to pull it to his nose for a sniff, but it was too short. Suddenly, he turned to look at you, expectation clear in his eyes.

“You smell for me.” he bowed his head and waited. 

“Oh, no need.” You waved your hands no. “Should be okay.” 

You were not going to do it, but his head stayed down and showed no sign of coming back up. Not wanting to disappoint him, you stooped down for a quick sniff. The tip of your nose brushed against his freshly cut hair, it was soft and silky now, no trace of yesterday's dirt and grime. And it smelled so good you could have died. 

Tobio breathed out a low purr before he looked up at you again, his pupils dilated. “How was it?”

“Nice,” you replied. “No need to wash it.” 

“Okay.” His voice was small, faint. 

Out of the bathroom, you prepared dinner for two and arranged a sleeping spot at the couch in the living room as you did the night before. Your apartment was a one-bedroom, so even if you wanted him to sleep somewhere nicer, you didn’t have a better option. 

You didn’t expect to see him lying on the cold, hard floor the next morning, sleeping in the fetal position and hugging himself, pillow and blanket left on the couch. 

“Why were you on the floor?” you asked that same morning while teaching him how to make basic breakfast—a bowl of cereal for you and two slices of toast for himself, this time topped with blueberry jam. He ended up asking for more with a growling belly and round blue eyes, piercing through your heart like a sharp stalactite falling down on tender meat. The damage was so severe that you had to tell him not to seek permission for food again; it was all his to have. 

“My legs are too long.” answered Tobio. “They went over the couch arm—hurt.” 

And the cushions were probably too small for him to sleep with legs folded. Decision instantly made, you let him sleep with you on the bed from then on.

—

It was nice not having to go about people’s houses searching for food and sleep at the train station when it rained. Tobio looked out the bedroom window, sitting on the floor with his head under the curtains, his tail flicking slowly as he watched the wet street below and couldn’t help but feel grateful for the human sleeping on the bed. 

It had been one hundred and twenty two days since he had been here. 

The bed was springy; it rocked a little when he climbed back on no matter how careful he tried to be, making you stir but overall still pretty much in your deep slumber. He settled on his side, laying his head on the same pillow as you. If he were to pull you to his chest, no one would see you again. Tobio was so big now with a tremendous amount of food consumed daily. 

So much money was spent on him just to put skin, fat, and muscles on his bones, and you never once complained about the increasing expenses. He knew numbers now, and he saw them on the bills each time and noticed that you spent less on yourself. You had never gotten the blouse you said you wanted, and you ate half sometimes just to keep the leftover for the next day. He wished he could do more than just helping around with the household chores. 

“Thank you,” whispered Tobio.

He wanted so much to cuddle up to you, sink his little fangs into your skin, and touch you in the way that would get him cute noises as a reward. He liked being close to you, finding himself awake nose to nose with you more often than not and using the time before you woke to count your eyelashes. You didn’t like any of that, always pushing yourself away and hurrying up to get off the bed. 

Pouting, pouting, all he did when that happened was pout. But in his sleep, instinct took over nevertheless, he would find himself clinging to you anyway come morning, and he would pout, pout and pout…

—

This was why you never considered adopting a hybrid before you found Tobio that night. You didn’t want to feel like a scum excuse of a human being, getting so wet that you heard the squelching sound when Tobio pumped his fingers in and out of you, deep, nudging your front wall now and again, making you squirm. 

You know what many hybrids were adopted and bought for, and you didn’t want to be one of those using them for sexual pleasure, letting him help around the house was bad enough. He didn’t ask to be here, you offered. What he was doing now might just mean he got the wrong idea about what he was here for. 

“Tobio, no.” 

“I’m so hard. It hurts.” 

He propped himself up on one of his elbows, pouting while he watched his hand’s movement under your pajama shorts. “Please help.” 

“Tobio, we need to talk.”

There was no talk, Tobio flipped you to lie flat on his body, his hands tugging your shorts and underwear down before doing the same with his. When your bare core touched his, the cat hybrid moaned loudly and rubbed you frantically against his cock. 

It had never come this far, small touches here and there but never this. 

“I—don’t want—,” you gasped, “to use you.”

“Please use me. Please use me. Use me.” He pouted more, tears welling in his eyes. 

Damn those eyes to hell though you were certain Tobio himself belonged in heaven. It was these same orbs that had you ask if he wanted to come home with you, earning yourself the sweetest companion one could ever ask for. 

Coming home to see the apartment cleaned, plants watered, laundry done, nothing was left to be done but dinner because he was scared he would burn the kitchen down because there was fire involved. He was getting better at it now, you feared cooking for you might be next in his plan. Power imbalance hung in the air, but Tobio had no clue. 

“You’re not here for this.” You tried to say, turning away from his lips that grazed all over your face, trying to get to your mouth. “You are my friend.” 

“I’m yours.” 

“My—friend.” 

“Umm, yours.” he purred, so cat-like. “You own me.” 

Why did he only listen to what he wanted to hear? Not just yours, but your friend, that was what you were trying to convey. 

“You are not a thing to be owned.” 

For some reason, his eyes darkened. “Don’t be too good to me.” 

Next thing you knew, you were on all fours, ass up, face down, hands in his grip behind your back. His hot shaft spread your wetness to your clit before fooling around with your entrance. 

“Don’t—”

“Must be warm in there. Wetter, too.” the hybrid whined, claws sharpened, penetrating the skin of your hands. “Please let me get in, please please.” 

“Tobio, don’t be bad.” That was the first time you reprimanded him, and you felt him freeze. “You’re not a thing to be used, you hear me?” 

“But I’m a pet, your pet.”

“You’re not just an animal to me.” 

“But that’s what I am.” 

“You’re half human.” 

“You don’t understand.” His mouth was next to your ear when he said it. “I am more animal than human, all hybrids are.”

Following his statement was the tip of his cock threatening to push in, you had to cry out his name again to stop the deed. 

“Please. Just one dip,” he begged. “One dip and out.” 

He was so stubborn, you had never seen this side of him before, literally nonplussed as to how to handle the persistence, the negotiation, and his pitiful cries. He had never been like this, even when you told him his favorite milk was out of stock, all he did was nod and say he was happy with whatever you had. 

“Just once.” You choked out the words. “Only one dip and you’re out. You let me go, okay?” 

You made a deal. 

“Okay.” 

The head was not the problem, the thick body and base were, stretching you to the point of pain. You heard a low growl rumble in his chest as he went deep to the hilt and lingered there. 

“Thank you for taking care of me,” he said, tremblingly. “Please don’t be mad.”

You couldn’t imagine being mad at Tobio, not even when he didn’t keep his word, pulling himself out and slamming back into you. Again and again he went, pulling at your wrists with each thrust for leverage. Your upper body was lifted from the bed from how hard he pulled, head lolling from side to side. 

“Please don’t put me back on the streets.” He bottomed out with a cry. “Keep me, keep me.” 

The wanton scream you let out was embarrassing, your pussy throbbed and clenched around his cock as he pounded on the right spot. And Tobio was a quick learner, he hammered down on it repeatedly, fucking you into the mattress until you came with a shudder, eyes rolled to the back of your head; you were glad he didn’t have to see that from where he was.

He shot out a lot of cum when he came, filling you up to the brim. One dip and out? Sure. The thing was, you weren't even mad at him. His clear blueberry eyes trained on you after he rolled you onto your back, tilting his head to one side before he bent down to give a kitten lick at your mouth. 

No, you weren’t mad at Tobio, you were mad at yourself for giving in. 

—

The leather ball he used to play with was for a sport called volleyball. Tobio saw it on TV one day and immediately pointed at it with excitement. So being a good owner as you were—allowing him to fuck and hold you close after each night, albeit not without some begging and whining first—you took him out to an open gym to play with other hybrids. 

Him having to wear a collar when going out bothered you, and when it strained his neck while he was out on the court looking up at the ball, you told him to take it off. 

“Why?” Tobio asked. Every hybrid in the gym had it on, he didn’t want to be different. 

“It’s too tight on your neck.” 

“It’s fine.” 

A round of laughter erupted from the nearby court when a rabbit hybrid fell on her face trying to get the ball. It was from the humans who sat and watched the play, one in particular seemed concerned—perhaps her owner—seeing as he stood up and told her to get back on her feet. 

“You just don’t get it.” you shook your head feebly and walked out the court back to your seat which was just a chair situated not far off the sideline. But as an afterthought, you turned around and said, “Just loosen it a bit, yeah?” 

“Okay.” 

You seemed to dislike the idea of him being an animal, but at the end of the day, he was. He loved watching birds from the window and making noises at them. He loved sleeping, and when he woke, after exerting himself with the chores until the energy ran out, it was nice to curl up on the couch for a nap. 

It was not him who didn’t get it, it was you. Tobio liked being an animal. 

So when your boss, who was one of the owners of the hybrid who played volleyball with him, approached and broached the idea of getting him on a cat food commercial you and he were working on, Tobio wanted in, even more interested when the older man said this would earn you extra money to take home after the shoot ended. 

“See? Tobio wants to.” The boss gestured his hands at him. 

“But—”

“Yes,” Tobio said, earnestly. 

“Let’s talk about the shooting date together with the team on Monday.” 

The deal was sealed. 

—

The shoot was stressful for you, seeing people coo at how cute Tobio looked in faux cat ears, some even dared coming close to scratch under his chin. Tobio liked the attention, but he didn’t like strangers touching him. He would look for you, asking for help with his impossible-to-deny eyes whenever that happened, and you would come to the rescue. 

“Aren’t cat hybrids supposed to keep to themselves?” you asked, walking ahead of him, just about five minutes more until you reached home. “How come you like people so much?” 

“Not all the time.” Tobio replied. “I just happened to like them today.”

“Doesn’t it bother you,” You stopped walking and turned to face him. “being treated like that?”

“Like what?” 

“They played with you with a laser pointer, Tobio. Trying to grab your tail, calling you names.” You held on to your shoulder bag as you spoke. “They didn’t respect you at all.” 

“I’m an animal.”

“This again?” 

“You have to accept that I am one and there is nothing wrong with it.” 

There was no anger in this voice, never with Tobio, only dull sadness that dimmed his usual bright eyes down a notch. 

“But you don’t agree, do you? That’s why you’re trying to change me.” 

“You missed the point.”

“And what was it?” 

When you didn’t respond instantly, he continued, “I like wearing a collar because it shows people I’m taken, taken by you, not a stray no one wants. I like that you own me.” 

“Oh Tobio—”

“Is it wrong that I love doing the housework, that I don’t care that people want to give me treats and play laser pointer with me? I know what I am and how they see me. I’m an ani—”

“I don’t care that you’re an animal, a hybrid or whatever!” you interrupted with a soft shout. “I’m saying that no matter what you are, you deserve respect,” you said. “I don’t know what you experienced that made you think you can’t pick between strawberry and blueberry jam. And they can play laser pointer with you for all I care, but they should be aware that you have a life and mind of your own and not just assume they can do it without even asking. Just because you’re fine with it doesn’t make it okay.” 

You paused to breathe. 

“And trust me those people—those people in the studio, they don’t—they don’t understand this, yet.” You closed your eyes. “After the shoot, one of them asked me if they could buy you.” 

Opening your eyes again, he was so close you had to tilt your head back to look at him. 

“I don’t want to hear anyone say that about you ever again.” 

His kiss didn’t take you by surprise. His tongue was welcome, and his moan was your guest. Tobio held your hand all the way home and didn’t let go even when the apartment door closed behind you and him, instead, he kissed you against it. Then from your mouth, he headed downwards.

“I thought I disgusted you.” he said, nipping at the soft flesh of the thigh he put on his shoulder. 

“That is crazy. Ouch! Tobio, your claws.”

It had been almost a year already since Tobio moved in, and with his typical cat behavior, your body was full of scratches, some faded, some didn’t. He had a second haircut just two months ago, the same style with his bangs cut short, resembling a coconut for a while until it grew out past the stage, and now it was just in the right length—perfect for a grab. 

He liked when you played with his hair, loved it when you pulled hard during sex. For someone who was soft spoken and had a hobby of watching birds and playing volleyball, Tobio was surprisingly perverted when it came to fucking. 

The man purred loudly when he got the taste of your soaking folds, lapping greedily at the core and dragging his wet tongue up your inner thighs, collecting every drop like it was essential for his being. 

When your hands remained by your sides, taking action too slow for his liking, Tobio searched blindly without pulling his face away from your nectar and grabbed one of them to put on his head. Automatically, you gripped a handful, hearing him groan with relief and satisfaction. 

“So good to me.” he mumbled, his thumb leisurely circling your clit. “I like you more than anything.” 

More than the milk you gave him that first night, or the banana, even the blueberry jam could not compare to you. And despite him not being brave enough to make a choice of his own haircut, he did make a choice in that moment he followed you home—he chose you. 

[heartlyvampzz]

❝𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐃𝐄, 𝐈𝐓'𝐒 𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐄, 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐘.❞ —- ft. blade

– cws: blood, slight gore (a large gash on readers leg, not described), some mentioned violence, possible ooc blade wc: 731 , platonic/fluff , gn reader

You step through the door with Kafka at your side, helping you walk due to the gash on your right thigh. You two had just come back from a grueling mission Elio had sent you two on and while Kafka came out unscathed, you were caught off guard and got severely wounded.

Kafka sighs as she sits you on the couch, still putting pressure on the wound with a cloth so the bleeding would hopefully cease. She chuckled a bit and you look to her with slight confusion on your face. “Bladie won't be very happy about this,” She says as she leaves the pressure holding to you to stand up. You quirk an eyebrow.

“Um.. with all due respect, Miss Kafka, but I think he could give two shits less about the teenage Stellaron Hunter,” you reply. Kafka looks back at you and laughs again, patting you on the head with her clean hand as she starts to walk away to get the needed supplies to help your wound, looking back at you.

“He cares more about you than you'd think, [name]. You are our youngest member, after all,” she smiles before disappearing.

You groan at the agonizing pain of the gash, not caring about the blood dripping onto the couch, and not noticing Blade walk in. He stops walking and hums, getting your attention. “Oh, Blade, what are you—” you don't get to finish as Blade walks over, shooing your hand away and kneels down in front of you, letting him put the pressure on your thigh.

“What the hell happened, [name],” he asks, though rather roughly in contrast to the gentleness he has towards your wound. It confuses you, but you answer nonetheless.

“Me and Kafka were out on a mission and the opponent managed to snag their weapon on my leg.. obviously..” you explain. “But they were dealt with, so no need to worry,” you quickly add, seeing the hardened glare in Blade's eyes as you had explained the events.

“Mmm.. well that's good,” he grumbles, shifting his hands a bit to be able to see the wound and how bad it is. He was now sitting on his knees as he analyzed the gash.

It was then when Kafka came back with the necessary items and she just smiled as she stopped beside the couch. You two look at her and Blade hums again, looking at her with slightly narrowed eyes as if to silently ask ‘what are you doing here.’

“Well, I see that Bladie is taking care of you now, so I'll leave this here,” Kafka says as she puts the utilities on the table and then walks away. She looks back at you and stops in the doorway as Blade moves to get the things on the table and gives you a ‘told you so’ look with a wink.

After he lets you wrap your own leg — so that you can make it comfortable for yourself — he does check to make sure it's on tight enough. You then try to stand but pain shoots through your leg, and you stumble and wince as you feel a firm hand on your shoulder. You look up and see the stoic face of Blade as he sits you back down.

“Stay here,” was all he said before sitting down next to you. Your leg was still in agonizing pain so you obliged, kneeling over yourself to try and ease the pain with furrowed brows, pursed lips and eyes closed.

You feel Blade put his hand on your shoulder again, placing your head gently where his shoulder and neck meet. Too exhausted to complain or say that he doesn't need to do this, you settle down and fall into a much needed slumber.

Your face eases up and Blade keeps his hand on your shoulder and making sure you don't hurt your leg while sleeping, looking at you with a softened expression (as soft as it could get at least).

You thought that Blade didn't really care for anyone — let alone you — but even the toughest of people have their favorite person it seems.

♱ —- 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒: reupload from my old blog ^_^ still rlly proud of this. one of my best works to date I think!! revised it just a bit to make it a little better :33

★ — © heartlyvampzz || I appreciate any reblogs made, and pls don't repost or feed my works into ai, thanks — ✦

[nonsensenook]

Chapter 3 | Powdered Snow, Warm Hands

Synopsis: The New West offered plenty of alone time, new meetings, and an unforeseen pause in travel plans. A continuation of this unapologetic take on you, the reader, accompanying the Destined One on his journey.

Word Count: 3,692

Warnings: None

Author's Note: Thank you very much for the continued support and kindness for my writing. I gratefully read every comment repeatedly. They're really encouraging! I hope you enjoy!

Read on AO3: Link

Ch. 1 - Ch. 2 - 3.5 (Optional) - Ch. 4 - Ch. 5

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The sand strewn desolate valley became snow capped mountains as you entered into the New West. The Destined One had worked hard conquering Yaoguais, acquiring his second relic, and making you a garment insulated enough for the harsh winter weather. At your suggestion, the Destined One had traveled through the shrines again, transferring his soul from one plucked offering to another in order to gain every hidden item he needed. As your head soon became a halo of snow, you wondered if your contributions held any unforeseen consequences. Or were your actions in line with this so-called Destiny? There were too many questions to hold onto and no one to spare you the burden. 

You were recovering from hitching a ride on the Destined One after the Keeper turned him into a bat and you into a little flea. It wasn’t fun being a flea and the vertigo you felt when you turned back was still affecting you. You had reassured your companion you just needed a moment to settle yourself. He promptly sat you down and made you use his shoulder as a warm cushion. It was too nice of an offer for you to reject. You let him pamper you for just a moment. 

You were meant to relax, but the same worries always seem to creep over you time and time again. You closed your eyes, hoping the semi-darkness would hush your mind. The Destined One offered you a piece of celestial pear which you felt gently press against your lips. You bit into the fruit from his hand without opening your eyes. You giggled when you felt he’d pressed another piece to your lips the moment the first was gone. You ate the second piece the same way then said, “I hope I’m not the only one eating.” You then hear a small crunch as he bites into the pear. You stayed like this for a little while longer, letting him switch between feeding you and himself as the gentle snow stopped falling.

You opened up your eyes, doing your best to readjust to the bright surroundings. The dizziness had subsided. You shooed him away gently, telling him to continue on as you waited for him at the lone shrine. Satisfied that you were at least well enough to eat, the Destined One stepped away to give you more time to recover as he went around the area clearing out enemies and collecting materials. You instructed him to leave the temple on the lake for last. 

You stretched and began setting up camp near the shrine. When he returned from his meditation you invited him to sit down for a small break. Arguably, it was an unnecessary one for him. Truthfully, it was an excuse to spend just a little bit more time together. The small fire you prepared was heating up water steeped in flowers and herbal leaves. You passed him a cup and some food, encouraging him to eat some more. When he sat down his tail wrapped around you protectively. You took a sip of the hot tea, letting the warmth fill you. 

“Whatever happens after you go to that temple,” you said, picking a loose twig off his leg, “know that I’ll be here safe and sound. So, take your time and explore at your own pace.” You then listed off some things he should look out for and what advice you could spare from your memories. Soon enough, sooner than you had liked, he had finished off his meal. You joined him in walking to the frozen lake. You stayed at the very edge of it as you watched him approach New Thunderclap Temple.

~

You’ve been alone for three days. You spent that time stretching, repairing equipment, and giving the simple staff he’d left you for a spin. You would then switch to making snow angels, singing to no one, and building snowmen big and small. When the night came you would set up your little resting area to keep the snow from falling on you as you slept. The time without the Destined One was long and seemed to drag on. You hoped the Pagoda wasn’t too difficult to traverse for him. You wondered if you could have warned him a bit more about it.

You had too much time for yourself. You decided to give meditation a try as you sat on the very spot the Destined One had before he left. You closed your eyes, breathing deeply in through your nose. As you tried to empty your mind, those same thoughts found the opportunity to barrage you again. You’ve been in this world for months now. The Destined One has been proceeding as he should through the journey even with your presence thrown into the mix. You wondered to yourself, would you truly return back to your world once he reaches the end? Is returning to your world what you really wanted? Was it ever what you wanted? You frowned, groaning as you held your fingertips to your temple. You were sure you were doing the very opposite of what meditation was meant to be. 

You opened your eyes in frustration and found a monkey crouched down with his chin in his palm staring at you. You blinked. It was your monkey. You tilted your head, brow furrowed in confusion. You looked behind him. The New Thunderclap Temple was still gone from the lake. The hole from the last battle was slowly freezing over. He had returned before gaining the relic. You looked back at the Destined One who seemed amused at your response as his tail flicked behind him. 

“What are you doing back so soon?” You asked. All other questions were gone from your mind as you noticed a fresh cut on his cheek still dripping with blood. You immediately pulled out a spare cloth to press against the wound. The Destined One watched with a wistful look on his face as you dabbed at his cheek. He smiled a little when you began frowning at him. He then followed you as you stood up with your arms crossed. 

“You seem content for someone still bleeding. What-” You were interrupted by him pulling you into a hug. You felt his tail wrap around your leg as he gently nuzzled your head. Your worried frown became a thin line then faltered into a smile. You returned the hug, wrapping your arms around him as you lost yourself in his warmth. He pulled back to lift you up and spin you once as you squealed in delighted surprise. He lifted you further until you were sitting on his shoulder. With one hand on you to help keep balance, he walked back to your little camp. He admired your snow angels, snowmen, and little sculptures as he passed by them. He stopped briefly to look closely at one sculpture with a stick leaning on its back that seemed to resemble a certain monkey. You urged him onward to spare you further embarrassment. 

He set you down gently before stepping back and pulling out his staff. With one end of the staff he drew a perfect circle which ignited into flames. The Ring of Fire. You hovered your hand over the flames feeling no scorching heat, only warmth. 

The Young Sage watched as you marveled at the ring. You let him take your hand to lead you to its center. As you stepped through the ring you felt as if you were wrapped snug in a heated comforter. You looked at your companion, the smile on your face full of wonder. His gaze was tender as he watched your expressions. For a brief moment you both stood there hand in hand. He closed his eyes as he pressed his forehead against yours. You took down each detail you could: his smell, the way his fur tickled your face, his breathing, his coarse hands gently holding your own. It was just the two of you, together in your little circle of warmth amidst the cold white snow. For just a moment, there wasn’t a destiny to fulfill or a lost soul to return. For just a moment, the world itself seemed to have stopped its endless toil. For just a moment, you let yourself hold on for a little longer. 

When the moment passed, you let go. The Destined One stepped back from you, bidding you goodbye with a warm hand cupping your cheek. His hand lingered there after his body had begun to move away. He stepped out of the circle and towards the shrine. You watched as he vanished in a flash of golden light. The Ring of Fire he created remained long after he was gone. In the protective circle, you wrapped your arms around yourself against the sudden cold. 

~

Day slipped into night once again as you made an inventory check on supplies. You drank some warmed tea then tucked in for the night with the staff he left you by your side. As you slipped into sleep you watched the flames dance in the Ring of Fire. 

You woke up suddenly from the sound of lightning striking. Disoriented, you felt for your staff as you tried to get your bearings. In the bright morning light the snow was blinding. Your eyes adjusted to the scene on Mirrormere Lake. New Thunderclap Temple has returned to its center. A small group was watching the giant He-Luo fish circle above before it dove into the Destined One. He had gained his third relic. With the sense of danger passed, you left the staff to meet them at the edge of the lake.

You saw the monk exchange a few small words with them before disappearing in a puff of smoke leaving only The Destined One and a smaller figure you recognized immediately. Both of them walked back to land where you were waiting. The Destined One lagged a little behind as he looked at his hands, no doubt feeling what he’d gained from this new relic. You suddenly felt nervous as your palms began to perspire. Zhu Bajie approached you, the tip of his ears not reaching past your chin. He looked you over, then gave a huff. 

“So this is the little interloper that old monkey told me about. You-” he cocked his head to one side, “What’s that grin for?” 

Excitement coursed through you. You couldn’t hide your smile even as he called you out for it. You were finally meeting Zhu Bajie, the companion you had already come to adore in another lifetime. You couldn’t control your elation. He was even more charming in person. 

“I’ve always wanted to meet you, Zhu Bajie,” you said with hands nervously clasped together. Bajie turned up his nose, trying but failing to hide a rather satisfied smirk. 

“I see my reputation precedes me,” he said, giving a small chuckle. Then he sputtered, waving you off with a hoofed hand, “Flattery will get you nowhere. I am not here to babysit two kids-I barely signed up for the one.” The kid in question was behind him, still a bit off in his own world. 

Bajie circled you, propping his rake over his shoulder. “Well, it hardly matters how and why you’re here. Our goal is the same and so long as you don’t get in the way or slow us down or-” Bajie paused. His snout sniffed the air around you. He looked at you, then at the Destined One.

“-or distract us,” he added with mirth, “Then all should fall into place.” 

You felt your cheeks warm as you read inbetween the lines of Bajie’s comment. Bajie chuckled to himself, shaking his head, then began making his way to your little camp. The Destined One was at your side, promptly returned from wherever his mind briefly traveled to. You looked up at your companion whose head was slightly tilted in inquiry. “Welcome back,” you said.

You heard Bajie call out loudly from the camp. He was pointing to one of your snow sculptures. 

“Hey, kid! This one looks just like you!” 

~

You were covered in sweat. An inordinate amount of both blankets and clothing weighed you down. The Ring of Fire surrounding you had been burning for hours and still you couldn’t stop shivering. 

“It’s not looking good, kid,” Bajie had said hours before. Or had that just happened? You weren’t sure anymore. 

The fever had struck you suddenly while venturing through the snowy terrain. Days had passed since Bajie had joined. You thought you were just light headed when you suddenly fainted. The Destined One had caught you, then carried you to a long abandoned home where you currently rested. You had a fever that kept rising along with a terrible cough that rattled you to the core. You thought you saw Bajie start to say something, but a harsh bout of coughing from you made him stop. Soon enough, you could no longer keep awake. 

When you woke up, Bajie was tending to a fire beside you. Half dazed, you kept apologizing to him as he warmed up some tea. “Oh, shut it,” he grumbled softly, “Focus that energy on resting, why don’t you?” He then sat you up to have you drink. Every so often when you were awake he would continue to have you sit up to drink or eat what little you could. You realized you hadn’t seen the Destined One for some time. Bajie noticed you looking around and answered your question before you could ask. 

“The kid’s gone off to get ingredients for a pill. Xu dog’s getting something prepared for you,” he said, then threw the covers over you again before you could ask anything else. 

You kept phasing in and out of consciousness. You no longer had a grasp on time. The constant blizzard outside did not help you either. Each time you opened your eyes you would see Bajie in a different spot doing a different action. He would be resting in the corner with his rake propped against his shoulder, in another moment you saw him help himself to some of The Destined One’s drink, then you saw him pacing as he talked to himself, and sometimes he was just quietly staring out into the storm. Each time he noticed you were awake he’d tend to you. You weren’t sure how long this went on for. 

When you woke up again Bajie was beside you eating and heating up more tea. You slowly propped yourself up by your elbows. Each movement seemed to drain you of energy the moment you thought of exerting yourself. You sat up just as Bajie handed you a drink. Both the cup and your arms were unbearably heavy. You took a small sip before resting the cup on your lap. Bajie himself took a swig of wine. The wind howled outside the house, shaking the walls and boarded windows. You hoped the Destined One’s fur was keeping him warm enough in this weather. You looked at Bajie who was wiping his mouth with his wrist. 

“You must get this request often…” you began tentatively, voice raw from your coughing fits. 

“Knowing that won’t stop your own request, hmm?” he replied, scratching at his ear. 

You smiled, blowing gently over your cup of tea, “I’d love to hear about The Journey from you, Bajie.” You ducked into your elbow as another bout of coughing came and went. Bajie waited for the fit to pass then hummed. “Which story shall I choose from?” 

“How about the one where you arrived at the Western Empire of Women?” You suggested innocently. 

“Absolutely not that one.” Baiji shot down, bristling at the memory. With your throat so sore your laughter was constrained mimicking that of a snickering snake or, in your world’s terms, a spray bottle. You remembered the story well. At that particular moment in the Journey to the West, Bajie and their Master had unwittingly drunk from the River of Child-Bearing. Sun Wukong was tasked with finding the solution to their sudden affliction while the women took care of both pregnant Master and Pig. The look of mortification on Bajie’s face was well worth the risk of his scolding. 

“Enjoying yourself are you?” Bajie sneered as you wiped a stray tear from your eye. You vehemently denied this between scattered giggles before you managed to calm yourself down. “Please,” you said, “any story would do.” 

Bajie closed his eyes and did a long, dramatic, drawn out sigh. He opened one eye to peek at you. You put your hands together in appeasement. Bajie threw his arms up, “Alright, alright, quit pulling my hoof. Uncle Bajie will tell you a story.” You suppressed another laugh. Placing your cup aside, you settle into your covers as Bajie takes another swig of drink. 

Bajie cleared his throat, “It was another day on the road. The Journey had already been long and treacherous enough, but that didn’t stop me from being on high alert. Brother Wukong gave me the job of scouting ahead…” 

A natural storyteller, Bajie captivated you with his retelling of the epic Journey. He was a one-man show and crew. He would speak with his hands, thumping the floor for emphasis and even standing up at points to act out different characters in the story from the tone of their voice to their slight mannerisms. Moments of suspense had you gripped in anticipation while others had you tearful with laughter. You didn’t speak up to question Bajie when he seemed to stretch and reshape the original story where he saw fit. You were enjoying yourself too much to dawdle on the details. You weren’t sure when you’d fallen asleep again. The last thing you remembered was hearing Bajie’s voice turn somber as he recounted a moment with his brother, Sun Wukong. 

~

You woke up to the feeling of someone gently moving strands of hair from your face. The same gentle hand held your cheek in their palm. You reached up to cover their hand with your own. Through your heavy eyes you looked up at the Destined One. He seemed relieved to see you able to sit up as he helped you. A light layer of snow covered him which slowly melted in the Ring of Fire. 

You were glad to see he was uninjured, though you noticed how he seemed quite worn. He produced a small bag which he placed into your hands. You placed the bag on the floor next to you and opened it fully till its contents were laid out. There were tea leaves, an assortment of grown foods, a small blade in its sheath, a thickly braided red cord, and a single small pill. 

Bajie appeared with his arm casually hanging on the Destined One’s shoulder. “Look at this assortment! Aren’t you a lucky one to be gifted with such blessings by the Zodiac Deities?” 

You didn’t just feel lucky. You were overwhelmed with gratitude. 

“I don’t-I don’t know what to say,” you whispered quietly. Your vision blurred as you brushed over their gifts with trembling hands. 

“Nothing that they don’t already know,” said Bajie. 

“Even so,” you said, turning to the Destined One, “please show them my sincere appreciation for their kindness.” 

You took the pill with some warm tea. Your symptoms did not automatically disappear, but you felt yourself breathe just a little bit easier. You shared the bounty of the deities amongst your companions. The tea was fragrant and the fruits delectably sweet. The Destined One used your little mountain of covers as a backrest, taking a well deserved moment of reprieve. You looked at the braided cord and saw a note attached to it. 

“Tear at the first sign of danger,” it read. You looked closely at the red cord. It was beautiful and seemed ordinary enough, but in between the red you could see strands of gold shine in the fire light. Bajie picked up the blade, studying it closely. 

“A fine blade crafted by the Yin Tiger himself,” he said, unsheathing it. You watched him examine what you assumed was the mark of the Yin Tiger, then he flipped it over to read more characters on the other side. Bajie burst into hearty laughter. 

“Mighty Fang!” He read out loud, “quite the fitting name.” Bajie returned it to its sheath and handed the blade to you. “Now you're that much closer to matching us Yaoguai.” Bajie tilted his head to the side, showing off his protruding tusks. You pulled the blade out to look at the inscription, tracing it with your fingertips. You smiled to yourself. With this small fang of your own, you were beginning to feel like you belonged. 

~

The Destined One didn’t leave your side after he’d returned. He took up Bajie’s post at tending to you, making sure you were still fed and cared for. When it was time for him to rest you would sometimes wake to find him asleep right next to you. In those moments you would simply watch him sleep until Bajie reminded you of his presence and had you continue to eat and drink. 

Two days later, you rose from your slumber with a clear mind and clearer sinuses. The pain you felt whenever you swallowed was gone. A new revitalizing energy coursed through you. You sat up easily, stretching out unused muscles. Your companions were still sound asleep. You took this opportunity to get up and peek outside. The blizzard had passed, a cloudless dawn greeted you as you stepped into the morning cold. Every surface was covered in pure, white snow. You breathed in through your nose and out through your mouth, watching your breath collect in the air. It truly was a beautiful morning. 

Your companions woke up to a readied meal, items folded away, and you up and about shining with health. The red cord swayed around your waist, somewhere on your person was the hidden Mighty Fang. You handed both your companions steaming cups of tea. Outside, the sunlight began shining over the horizon.

[ladykailitha]

Sir Steve, Knight Protectorate

Welcome to the little story I was working on during my move! Just a fun little thing to keep my writing streak going without have to dive into my heavy hitters.

The original idea is here.

I originally planned to go farther than the original idea like season 2-4 but as I was just needing something lighthearted it became a short little story three chapters long that might get turned into a series of What if's.

Summary: After the events surrounding Will Byers and his return to life, Steve has decided he can't control anything in his life but school, so he seeks to put a stop to the bullying. Cue Eddie getting heart-eyes over popular King Steve protecting his little sheepies. So he decides Steve needs a knew title. Sir Steve, Knight Protectorate will work just fine.

~

Steve was still reeling from actual fucking monsters and shit. And he actually had to go to school the following Monday like none of it had happened.

Fuck, they didn’t even offer therapy, just NDAs and money to keep their mouths shut. He had no doubt that the Byers family and Nancy had the worst of it, so he wasn’t even mad that she broke up with him.

He got it more than most people that she needed to time to grieve the lost of her best friend, be with family and hold them close for awhile.

It sucked.

Steve wasn’t going to pretend that it didn’t, because it absolutely did. But he understood. He told Nancy that if she ever needed a friend to give him a call.

His temper was short and his capacity for bullshit was low, that was the only reason he could come up with what happened that Monday morning.

He walked into the hall that held his locker to his books for the day when he saw Tommy H. having a go at some freshman. Like this kid still looked like he was in elementary, he looked that little.

“Knock it off, Hagan,” Steve huffed. “There is no reason to be harassing this kid.”

Tommy turned around and got in his face. “What’s it to you, Harrington? I can do whatever the fuck I want.”

“Dude,” Steve said, stepping forward instead of back like Tommy thought he would, “why are you so angry all the time? Chill out.”

Tommy’s head reared back as though he’d been struck in the face. He pushed Steve away. “Again, what’s it to you? You want to be friends again now that Miss Priss is finished with your scaly ass? Because where was my loyalty? We’ve been friends for years and you threw it all away for some piece of ass!”

Steve didn’t even stumble, he just crossed his arms in front of his chest. “You know what you did was over the line and you did it anyway. Because that’s the problem, Hagan, isn’t it? You don’t know where the fucking line is, do you?”

Tommy frowned and tried to push him again, but Steve just let his body slide with the motion and it didn’t even hurt. Tommy stared at him for a moment before stalking off down the hallway to his own locker. Steve just shook his head and went over to the kid who Tommy had been bullying.

“Hey, you okay?” he asked gently, helping him pick up his books. “If he does that again, you come running for me. I’m Steve, Steve Harrington, just ask around, someone will know how to find me, yeah?”

The kid nodded and took the books back from Steve before he took off in a tear. Steve sighed and he put his hands on his hips like a disappointed mom.

He looked around the hall to see everyone staring at him in shock. And that was when he realized what he had done.

Last week, he might have called Tommy off, but not really done anything about it. But he had not only called Tommy off, he put him in his place, and then helped the kid.

Yeah that was quite the turn around. So he just did like he would have done at basketball game.

He clapped his hands together once, nice and loud to make sure everyone was paying attention to him even more now.

“Right,” he said loudly. “Nothing more to see here. Move along now.”

They stared at him in even further shock now.

“Come on,” Steve said impatiently. “Move along. Shoo!” He waved his hands in front of him, trying to get them leave, but it was like herding cats.

Someone slammed their locker and that broke them out of their trance allowing them to move about their day like that didn’t just happen.

Steve looked around and saw Eddie Munson leaning against his locker, with his arms crossed. A locker, Steve was pretty sure was open when he walked in that morning.

Huh.

That was certainly interesting.

~

Eddie had been having a rough morning. He spilled milk on his only clean pair of jeans. He was going to do laundry after school. He was! He just didn’t do it over the weekend because he had gotten a new book. A book that was currently being painstakingly dried out by Uncle Wayne with an old hair dryer, because Eddie dropped it in the sink. Then he almost forgot his homework and had to run back for it. He had managed to get to school on time, but Tommy H. had decided to chose violence that morning against a nerdy little freshman literally next to his locker.

He promised Uncle Wayne that if Tommy started something that he wouldn’t fucking finish it. He needed to graduate from high school and as it much as it sucked ass, he had to look the other way.

So imagine his surprise when Steve got in Tommy’s face and almost threw hands with the guy, telling him to back off. What was even more surprising was how quickly Tommy stood down.

But that wasn’t the last of Steve Harrington’s surprises, oh no...

He helped the kid gather up his stuff and offered himself as a white knight if Tommy did it again. But by then Harrington had drawn quite the crowd, but instead of soaking the attention like the full tilt diva the asshole jock most certainly was, he had tried to disperse the crowd. Like the attention had made him uncomfortable.

So he thought he’d throw the king a bone and slammed his locker shut. The loud noise startled the populous out of their stupor and sent them packing. He was more than a little shocked to see that maybe Steve had figured out who had rescued him.

And wasn’t that a kick in the head.

By the time he got to lunch news had spread that that morning’s incident was only the start of the king’s campaign to clean up the hallowed halls of Hawkins High. According to ye ole rumor mill, Steve had broken up a fight, called out two accounts of bullying, and stopped a class from rioting when the teacher had a medical emergency.

What was even more surp– he needed to find another word. Shocking. Astounding. Astonishing. Mind-boggling.

Anyway Steve sat down next to Carol and Tommy. Like even the great ex Nancy Wheeler dropped her fork, flabbergasted.

Tommy and Carol exchanged a glance.

“What are you doing here, Harrington?” Tommy growled. “Why don’t you sit next to your girlfriend? Oh that’s right she dumped your ass.”

Steve cocked his head to the side. “You made a valid point, we have been friends for years and I’ve decided I’m tired of running away from my problems.”

“And what,” Carol sneered, “we’re one of your problems now? Fuck off, Steve.”

Steve threaded his fingers together and rested his chin on his knuckles. “You didn’t use to be this way, you know. You used to be the sweetest girl and I’m trying to figure out if it was Tommy that made you this way or if you turning into a bitch is what made Tommy become such an ass?”

Tommy and Carol’s heads rocked back in unison. Tommy moved to stand up to hit him, but Carol pulled him back down.

“If we bother you so much why don’t you leave and stay gone?” she asked, low and menacingly. “We don’t need you, you need us. We made you king.”

Steve threw his head back and laughed. “No, you really didn’t. You need someone to keep you from your worst selves. And that’s what I’m going to do. You could be good.” He slid a piece of paper over to Tommy. “This is Miss Chen, the school counselor’s office hours. You will make an appointment with her by the end of the day.”

Tommy threw it on the table. “Fuck off, Harrington. You can’t make me.”

Steve leaned forward on his elbows. “Actually you’ll find that I can. After all they’re still trying to find the culprit who put the smoke bomb in the garbage in the principal’s office last year.” He slapped the table for emphasis. “It would be a real shame if they learned it was you.”

Tommy blanched and gulped heavily. “You wouldn’t.”

“I would,” Steve confirmed. “I know too much about you to have you go against me.”

Carol folded her arms and huffed. “Like we don’t have information on you, too.”

“Do you though?” he asked, sitting back in the chair and lazily stuff his hands in pockets. “I was never directly involved in any of it. Including the buying of weed for all those parties.”

This time Carol’s color drained. “Shit.”

“So this how it’s going to go,” Steve murmured. “You two have become my pet projects. I’m going to see if you can be reformed. Become better people. And to do that, we’re going to have to be friends again.”

Carol frowned as she twirled her hair around a finger. “Why are you doing this, Steve? I mean really. When you think people aren’t watching you, you get this haunted expression. It’s a little freaky, honestly.”

Steve sighed. “I have learned the hard way that running every time things get tough will only lead to worse consequences and I hate to see you come to harm because you realized the same thing too late.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “I do care about you guys, of course I do. But this behavior is frightening. What if you hurt someone so bad that they took their life or they died because of your direct actions? Do you really think you could live with yourselves?”

“Tha–that can’t really happen, can it?” Carol asked, holding up her hand to stall Tommy from scoffing.

Steve shrugged nonchalantly. “That something you really want to test?” He leaned forward again on his elbows. “Having someone’s blood on your hands?”

They were both thinking it but Tommy beat Carol to it. “Is this what this about? Barb Holland? You know that wasn’t your fault, right?”

Steve turned his head away.

Carol slapped her hands on the table on either side of her tray. “If that’s what Miss Priss said, blackmail be damned, Steve, I’m going throw hands, do you understand me?”

Steve’s head snapped her direction. “What?”

“Look,” Tommy said, “what happened to her was a shame, but you did everything you could to make sure she was okay before we went in to dry off.”

“Like, she wasn’t even supposed to be there that night,” Carol said, nodding. “That’s all on Nancy. Don’t carry her shit too, just because you loved her. You tried to include Barb and she was rude.”

Steve let out a shuddering breath and nodded, choking down tears. “Thanks, guys.”

“I suppose,” Tommy said with a put on sigh, “we could be nicer. I guess.”

Steve threw back his head and laughed as Carol shook her head. He stuck out his hand. “Friends?”

Tommy shook it first and then Carol.

“Friends,” they agreed.

~

Eddie wasn’t able to hear what Steve and Tommy and Carol were talking about, but whatever it was it had ripples that quivered through the halls of the school.

Word had it that Tommy was seeing the school counselor and Carol had stopped making snide comments in passing.

Like, you could tell Carol was fighting back every nasty word that came to her head, as Steve would nudge her side and she would whisper to him what she was thinking instead. You could tell she was still being nasty but at least it wasn’t aimed at the target anymore.

But there were starting to be other changes too.

The basketball team was the worst of the jocks when it came to harassing the masses, but when Steve caught one of the members bullying someone, the next day, the guy was too tired to start shit.

So Eddie decided it was time for a little research and that meant actually going to PE. Fuck, he hated high school.

He dragged his ass to PE and the coach merely raised an eyebrow, but wisely said nothing. He knew why Eddie was there. Same reason as all the other kids that never came started showing up.

Steve Harrington.

The coach blew his whistle to call a foul and the kid who had been fouled immediately got up and in the other guy’s face.

Faster than lightning, Steve was between before the coach could even take a step toward the mounting trouble.

“Come on, Kenny,” Steve was saying soothingly. “It was fair play, you were just in the right place at the wrong time. Walk it off, then take your shot. You’ve got this.”

Kenny glared at the other player, but did as Steve suggested. Steve turned to the other player and patted him on the chest, murmuring something Eddie couldn’t hear, but the other guy just nodded and took his place on the line.

Eddie laughed out loud when Kenny biffed both shots and the other team got the ball. He didn’t know enough about basketball, but he could still appreciate a good strategy when he saw it.

As the game wore on, Eddie was starting to see the pattern emerge. If it was malicious, Steve would be up in the guy’s face telling him to knock it off and to play clean. If it was a good play and the fouled player was pissed, Steve would calm him down and praise the other team.

It was almost freaky how well Steve seemed to know the difference. And Eddie loved freaky.

~

Part 2 Part 3

Tag List: CLOSED

1-@mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog

2- @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @cryptid-system

3- @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

4- @justforthedead89 @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @forgottenkanji

5- @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon

6- @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman

7- @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @ravenfrog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @lingeringmirth

8- @gutterflower77 @a-lovely-craziness @just-a-tiny-void @w1ll0wtr33 @beelze-the-bubkiss

[thatwritterbeach]

One messed up bat pt.1

Dc masterlist all other parts found here

Batfam x femreader Jason x reader eventually

Warnings: angst, self harm, self hate, depression,

Summary:Y/n gets caught self harming by Damian, and Tim calls in some backup

A/N: I do not own dc booohooo ooc Tim, I don't spend much time watching/reading his robin sorry **^ so I can't remember if it's canon or from a fic but at this point who cares the storyline is all fucked so in this story I'm saying that Jason tried to call dick for help with his mom but dick was asleep/didn't pick up so Jay went alone and died, now Dick CAN NOT miss a phone call it sends him into a panic attack, thank you for coming to my trauma talk

ok so we all know the timeline is shit so this is the ages for this story only found it on a reddit post, fight me at dawn if you don't like it

Bruce Wayne (Batman) at 45

Barbara Gordon (Oracle) at 27

Dick Grayson (Nightwing) at 25

Jason Todd (Red Hood) at 22

Tim Drake (Red Robin) at 18

Damian Wayne (Robin) at 11

Y/n 21

not my gif^

(2 weeks ago)

"Y/n, you can't keep acting like a child you're twenty-one," Dick whisper shouted in the corner of the batcave.

"Dick, I'm not going to apologize for helping people-"

"You disobeyed a direct order. You could have been hurt, you can't be that kind of influence to Tim and Damian."

"You don't even live here, Dick, you can't just-"

"You're benched until further notice."

"You can't-"

"Benched," Bruce confirmed stepping over to them.

(1 week ago)

"Hey, Dick, do you have a sec," she asked into the phone then immediately bit firmly into her hand to hold back a sob.

"You're still benched," he said without remorse.

"That's not-you know what never mind." She hung up on him and threw the phone onto her bed heading to her en-suite bathroom to release the itch.

(present)

"Beloved! Beloved, look I-," Damian shouted with glee but cut himself off with a scream when he opened her unlocked bathroom door. He thought she was doing her face masks not...in the bathtub with blood dripping from her arms into pink bubble filled water.

"Damian wait," she called after his retreating form. Shit, shit. She hurried to drain the water and throw on her over sized t-shirt just managing to pull some boxers on when Damian burst back in with Tim, practically dragging him into the space.

"Damian what's the problem-"

"Fix her," he shouted with haste and was about to shove Tim into the room when he noticed y/n standing there looking fine.

"Damian, I'm ok, I promise," she tried to convince him softly. He looked from her to the tub, not even a drop of evidence in sight.

"No, you-I saw the blood. Tim she cut herself I saw it," he told the older boy trying to lunge for her arm but she side stepped him.

"Damian, give us a minute," Tim tried to gently shoo him away. Damian shook his head aggressively and latched himself onto her side, clinging to her like a koala. She combed her fingers through his hair and gently detangled him.

"Dami, Tim and I just need to have a quick chat, he's gonna fix me right up, aren't you, Tim," she asked, sending him a look that clearly gave direction.

"Yeah, kid, I'll take care of her, she'll be right as rain."

"You won't hurt yourself again?" He was giving her puppy eyes, looking his own age for once and it pulled on her heart strings.

"I won't," she agreed patting him on the head and crossing her fingers behind her back with the other hand. Damian gave her one last hug then hurried out of the room. There was an awkward silence as Tim stood blocking the doorway, his jaw ticking and toe nearly tapping.

"You know I have to tell."

"Please don't." She shook her head then grabbed the first aid kit beneath the sink.

"Let me," he said softly, taking it from her and getting out the supplies. When she set her arm on the counter for him to work he sucked in a breath. "Those are deep," he accused.

"I wasn't trying anything. I'm not stupid, just a heavy bleeder." She rolled her eyes where he couldn't see and hissed when he dumped alcohol on her arm.

"They almost need stitches."

"Butterfly stickers are fine," she said digging them out of the kit one handed.

"I at least have to tell Dick-"

"NO," she said so firm he actually stepped back to look at her.

"I have to tell someone, I can't watch you 24/7."

"I don't need babysat," she seethed.

"I can tell Bruce or I can tell Dick first. Either way you aren't doing this alone."

"I cant stop you?"

"Not a chance."

"Dick told me I needed to be a better influence for you. Sorry for fucking that up, but to be fair there's worse things about me. I tried to call him a week ago, I was feeling the um...the 'itch' so to speak but as soon as he picked up he told me I was still benched. I was so pissed that he immediately thought that's what I called for I told him never mind and hung up. You can't tell him that, after Jason you know he-"

"Hates missing phone calls," Tim finished for her. **^

Tim had every intention of telling him, he knew it would hurt but come on, she tried to get help. Of course she didn't ask anyone in the house, but he wasn't about to be offended she didn't ask the child or his newly adult self for help, and he sure as hell got the not wanting to tell Bruce.

"Why not Alfred?"

"Hmm?"

"Why didn't you go to Alfred for help."

"He deals with enough shit from the rest of you, coming in half dead each night."

"That doesn't mean you come second, and sure as hell not last, we love you."

"Yeah, well it doesn't feel like it most of the time." He was finished with her arm and she resisted the urge to yank it away from him. One of Jason's flannel was on a towel hook on the wall and she quickly put it on to hide the bandages.

"I'm gonna go make sure Dami's ok," she said gently moving him out of the way. The second she was gone he hurried back to his room for his phone, that he'd left on the charger and yanked the cord out. He hit speed dial 3, Dick's cell, and held the phone to his ear while he headed out on his balcony to totally not scale down the wall instead of taking the stairs. Dick picked up on the 4th ring with a tired sigh and a 'this better be good' Tim told him to wait a sec while he got way out of hearing range.

"Did Y/n call you last week?"

"Uh, yeah, why?"

"Did you jump her case and not give her a second to speak?"

"You sound a bit pissed timbers, cut to it and tell me what I did. I haven't slept in 37 and a half hours."

"And you call me an idiot," he snorted.

"Tick tock bro," Dick mumbled head already sinking into his pillow.

"She'd been cutting herself and she called you to ask for help, well, she didn't say that word, but she was calling to tell you what she'd been doing to herself," Tim stated with little to no remorse for the heart attack he'd just given his brother.

"She what," Dick shouted throwing off the blankets and grabbing his go bag.

"I assume you'll catch the next train?" The sound of Dick falling and cursing while he hopped into pants could be heard and Tim nodded and hung up. Thankfully because the author said so Dick had switched from his police job to a remote roll in Wayne industries he just stayed in Bludhaven to have his independence and not deal with Bruce more than he had to. Alfred insisted he come for monthly dinners and he did.

Tim went back inside to hunt for Y/n and Damian and found them having mugs of hot chocolate together on the kitchen counter.

"So, you're ok," Damian asked in a small voice using a stir stick to hold his marshmallows under the liquid.

"I told you, Tim fixed me, and he probably ran off to call Dick so he could come make double sure I'm ok. You don't need to worry, I promise I'll always be here to have hot cocoa with," she replied, crossing her heart and holding out her pinkie to him. He hooks his with hers and to her surprise continued to hold on, not moving to actually hold her hand but simply letting their hands rest on the counter pinkies linked. Not wanting to interrupt Tim quietly made his way back out, he still had some calls to make.

Jason picked didn't pick up on the first call, or the second but finally on the third he answered out of breath and with gunshots loud in the foreground.

"The hell dya' want," he all but shouted into the line dodging hits and getting in several of his own.

"Sorry, I'll call back later-"

"No, talk now, I got it under *way too loud thud* control."

"Just uh, get here as quick as you can, nobodies dying so-"

"Make it quick but don't freak, got it." And he hung up. Next was Bruce who surprise surprise didn't answer a call or text, so Tim left a message.

"Get off Selena and come help your kid," he said with more aggression than snark. (this doesn't feel at all like something Tim would say but i'm not familiar enough with his character to fix it)

This time when he went to the kitchen it was just Y/n on the counter Damian had gone who knows where.

"So who all did you tell?"

"Just Dick so far, he's on his way. Jason was in the middle of a fight so he's coming later but I didn't tell him and Bruce didn't pick up-"

"Shocker, dude nabs all these kids then can't be bothered to spend time with them outside of a Halloween costume," she scoffed rolling her eyes.

"You're not wrong but-"

"Oh, don't start Stan." She waved him off hopping down to wash the mugs not willing to leave them for Alfred.

9-20-24

[softxsuki]

Hellooo!! For your valentines letter event, can I please request Sabo, one piece, with fem!reader? Any pet name is okay except for baby/bae/babe etc. As for the relationship I just want it to be mutual pining where the reader is a pirate (straw hats or unspecified, i don't mind) and because he is in the revolutionary army, it's not often they see eachother. For the tone it's comfort from being so far away and adoration, he's just too afraid to actually confess when he can't physically be with reader. I'd prefer angst with comfort :). Location is long distance. Other info: they've known each other since they were children, and Sabo has just always had feelings for reader + she has always had feelings for him too, which they always got teased for by Ace and Luffy🙈 I hope this is specific enough! Thank you so much in advance!!! I'm gonna be giggling and kicking my feet as I wait in patience 🫡

Adoring Letter from Sabo to His Crush

This event is now CLOSED, but you can view the masterlist for the other letters here.

| Pairing: Sabo x Fem!Reader| Genre: angst | Post-Type: Letter | Word Count: 515 |

Warnings: long distance love, forbidden love??? Idk man

Note: HI! Fed my soul by requesting something for one piece, thank you! I took this as him not directly confessing to her, but kinda hinting at it…hopefully I got that right, bc girl I would have made Y/N jump into a row boat and row her way to Sabo’s side if he actually confessed heheh.

It was a beautiful day on the Thousand Sunny, the sun was shining, the waves were calm, and the crew was absorbed in their own activities for the day.

You glanced out at the waves, leaning your head on the deck rails, sighing. You missed Sabo…

“Y/N, you have a letter from Sabo, he had one of the news coo birds drop it off,” Nami grins, a knowing smirk on her face. “Perhaps a love letter~?” She teases. 

Of course she knew how you felt about the second in command of the Revolutionary Army.

“Stop it…it’s not like that,” you grumble, taking the envelope from her.

Though the mention of Sabo makes Luffy’s ears raise and he runs over in excitement.

“A letter from Sabo! I wanna read it too! Y/N let me read it!!” He whines, his rubber arms stretching out towards you, in which you gently push them away.

“No…he wrote this for me,” you could feel your cheeks reddening, as Luffy and Nami began teasing you again.

It takes a while to shoo them away, going back to your shared cabin with Nami and Robin which was thankfully empty as you open the letter to begin reading it;

Y/N,

Hey lovely. Hope Luffy and the rest of the crew are doing a great job taking care of you over there. Can’t have you getting hurt now can we? 

Since we reunited a few months ago, I couldn’t help but think of you and miss you…though I shouldn’t. 

You’re great, you know that? Beautiful, caring, hilarious, I realized in that moment, when all my memories came back to me how much I missed those moments. How much I missed you. So many years have passed, all time I missed without you, and yet…distance continues to grow between us even now that you’re in my mind. 

I want- no…i can’t. I hope one day things are different. When this world is safe again, when my job here is over. But I can’t ask you to wait for me, just know that you’re in my heart. Always. No matter how much ocean lies between us, you’ll always have my heart. So be happy and be free, and know that I’ll always be here to support you.

Yours,

Sabo.

The letter was short, but weighed heavily on your heart. 

Idiot, you thought to yourself.

As if you could just forget him and move on. You’d wait for him for as long as you’d need to. At least now you knew he felt something towards you, yet pushed you away just because he couldn’t be by your side. How stupid. 

“I’d rather call you mine, then not be yours, despite the distance. It’s not like we’ll never see each other again,” you huff to yourself, getting a pen and paper ready. 

Maybe this letter will get lost at sea, or hopefully it’ll make its way back to Sabo. You hold his letter to your heart as you begin writing one yourself, pouring out your heart to the man it belonged to. It always belonged to him.

Posted: 2/14/2025

[thenanbakacorner]

Hi! I hope you’re doing well. Can you do some headcannons of the boys of building 13 or 5 for abuse/trauma comfort? Thank you!

Hiii, I'm doing good, ty!! Absolutely! These boys'll do everything in their power to shoo the sad away!!

I went with the Building 13 boys for this, but feel free to send another ask asking for the boys of Building 5 if you wanna see theirs!

* * *

🔓 Jyugo 🔓

Jyugo is quite perceptive of other's emotions, so he picks up on your negative mood before you even say anything

He's by your side in an instant, silently asking what's wrong and if there's anything he can do to help

If you're hesitant to tell him, he'll assure you that you can talk to him and he'll gently coax you, but if you aren't ready, he won't push it

He's silent as he allows you to vent your frustrations, and takes your hand to provide a bit of wordless comfort until you let everything out

Runs a hand up and down your back to soothe any tears that fall, quietly shushing you, murmuring that you're okay, that you're safe

"It's okay, Y/N. You're safe here with us. Nothing/Nobody will ever hurt you again as long as I'm around. I promise you that."

🎲 Uno 🎲

Uno is quick to realize something is amiss with you with how silent and distant you seem, and approaches you as soon as he possibly can

A hand on your cheek, he gently asks what the matter is, his cerulean blue eyes gazing warmly into your own

A soft look of concern and sadness flits across his face as you explain to him what's been ailing you, and he runs his thumb across your eye to dry any tears there

"Aww.. there there, Y/N. I've got you. (Trauma/Abuser) can't hurt you anymore. Not while I'm here."

He wraps his arms around you and holds you close, petting the back of your head gently as he quietly shushes you and dries your tears

Won't let go of you until your tears have run dry, and when you pull away from the hug, he'll squish your cheeks lightly and ask with a warm smile, "Now, where's my happy Y/N? Huh? There they are!~"

🍩 Rock 🍩

As soon as he picks up on your upset state, he's pulling you aside and putting his hands on your shoulders, a concerned look on his face

He asks what's wrong, voice stern yet gentle, worried for your emotional well being

Frowns when you start telling him what's wrong, and keeps his hold on you, a thumb rolling back and forth against your shoulder to soothe you as you speak

When you start to tear up, he lifts a hand to wipe away the tears before they have the chance to fall, and he pulls you into a warm hug, hooking his chin against your shoulder

"It's alright, Y/N, everything's okay now. I won't let anything or anyone harm you ever again, I'll make sure of it."

He stands there and allows you to sob into his shoulder, rubbing soothing circles into your upper back as he whispers gentle words of comfort and reassurance

💊 Nico 💊

You don't even need to try to hide your emotions from this boy-- he can just tell you're down in the dumps by looking at you

Is quick to come up to you and ask what's wrong, taking your hands into his own and holding them against his chest as his eyes meet yours

His heart breaks for you with every word you say, and he completely relates to the pain you've gone through with his own fair share of trauma and abuse

He envelops you in a big, tight hug and nuzzles against your cheek, trying not to cry himself

"I'm so, so sorry, Y/N..! It'll be okay, though; we've got each other now.. you're safe!"

Absolutely refuses to let go as he clings to you and you cling to him. You'll be cuddled till the two of you fall asleep for all he cares!

[gingervitus]

Davrin Week Day Five: Woodworking

Oh hello friends.

The end of this week was... not my favorite end to the week, and then I ended up taking a three hour nap today. SO HERE I AM A LITTLE LATE BUT THAT'S OK.

thank you as always to @datvcompanionweeks for hosting these super wonderful events.

Here's some more modern AU.

The Sun (3,728 words)

It has been a quarter after six o’clock for the past two hours.

Silvia picks absently at her nails. The monitor of the computer she’s slumped in front of glows back at her in the dark room. A blank schedule has been haunting her for the past week. Arguably, several blank schedules have been nipping at her heels. Gnawing at her insides. Picking apart her brain when she tries to go to sleep at night. Her fingers drag through her hair, balls of her hands pressing up against her closed eyes. 

Things are easier when she can just count through different routine variations to fall asleep instead of wondering what is going to happen over the coming months.

Life, though, does not seem to hand her any problems that have easy fixes. She’s been holed up so long that her business partner (and future sister-in-law however the fuck that happened) came to check on her before her last class for the evening started. “Are you still having those boy problems, Via?” Hearing this situation referred to in such a way makes her cringe even a half hour later. “Did you break up with your firefighter?” The support is always appreciated. She should really be grateful for such love around her. “Do you want to?”

She does not. 

Mostly, she wants to duck out of work early, drive over to Davrin’s place, and fight with him. Scream until her lungs give out and then fall asleep in his arms. She wants to tell him he’s a stubborn shithead that needs to figure this whole thing out. To let him know that if she’s going to be his emergency contact, he has to accept the help that emergency contact wants to give after said emergency. She wants to hold his stupid squared jaw and tell him she’s not good at any of this, but she’s trying.

Would it be easier to just let this short term relationship fizzle out until it’s just a bittersweet memory lost among the stars? Yes, absolutely. Then she thinks about how he kissed her that very first night when she had been terrified to be seen in the light of day. How gently he held her while the morning light broke into the night sky. How her heart hammered in her chest as he told her the night didn’t have to end and then proceeded to make them pancakes. So perhaps, it wouldn’t be easier after all to simply bury her head in the sand like she has time and time again with previous flings.

“No,” she whispers, much as she did earlier to the question still ruminating in her mind. “I don’t.”

That is the unfortunate complication when a fling quickly starts feeling like something that can last forever if both parties would allow for it. Suddenly, the possibility of floating off on the breeze to whatever comes next vanishes, and she’s stuck miserable, stubborn, and alone in her apartment every night wanting to swallow her own pride to smooth things over. However, she also is impulsive and makes decisions that could throw wrenches in such a thing at any given moment.

Her heart aches. Whether it’s due to this incessant need to be near him again or the uncertainty as to what is going to come next, she isn’t sure.

A soft knock comes from the open door to the office. Without removing her hands from her eyes, she yearns to shoo whoever is there away. She wants to be alone, so she can finally finish three months of scheduling in advance. And also to mope in peace. 

“Bad time?”

The voice does not belong to any of the employees that might be visiting her office. In fact, it’s a voice she hasn’t heard much at all recently. Her hands drop into her lap. When she opens her eyes, Davrin stands in the doorway, hands stuffed into the pockets of his jeans. The bruises on his face have healed to return that classically handsome face that had her heart about to shoot out of her chest in the middle of a crowded bar the first time she saw it. “No,” she breathes almost as if she’s unsure he’s really there. Which must look awfully stupid, she decides before straightening her shoulders and clearing her throat. “No, it’s not… a bad time, I mean. It’s not a bad time.”

God, she’s babbling like a fucking fool.

He nods. One of his hands flexes around something in his pocket. A wallet? Car keys? She doesn’t know, and isn’t certain why she’s speculating or even noticing it all. “That’s good.” The faintest hint of a smile touches his lips. “I was hoping we could talk.”

She frowns. “That’s foreboding,” she replies. Nothing bad has ever happened after that statement is made. Never. Not once.

“Maybe if you’re the one who was an ass,” he counters. The smile remains, but she can see the nerves beginning to glimmer in his eyes. He’s anxious. How unusual. As foolish as it is right now, she allows the hope that's been simmering in the back of her mind to come to a rolling boil. “You have five minutes?”

An empty schedule hollers that she doesn’t have five seconds, let alone five minutes. “Yeah,” she answers. A lie but he doesn’t have to know that. Glee and despair rage through her veins as her heart pounds. 

People don't usually come asking for Silvia by name, which is the assumption she makes as to why there had been no warning prior to his arrival. Plus the young woman at the desk is deeply invested in a video she’s attempting to discreetly listen to through an ear bud she thinks is hidden behind her hair. It is not well hidden at all, considering the white device is poking through long strands of brown hair. Not that it matters at this time of night really. On a Tuesday, Silvia wouldn’t even normally still be here.

Yet here she is, prepared to push heavy double doors to head out into the summer heat. An arm reaches over her to open one before she even gets the chance. “And they say chivalry is dead,” she teases, hoping to get that sideways grin she’s been longing to see in response. “First, saving kittens and now opening doors for ladies. What will he do next?”

That grin doesn’t come, though. Something more reserved takes its place. Tight lipped and anxious. “I’m being told that getting a puppy might help my market value,” he tells her, and despite all the conversations she’s planned out in her head, all the cut and dry arguments she’s been looking to have, she laughs. 

It is a damp evening. The humidity has to be up near a hundred percent. Her skin immediately feels sticky as she steps outside. Cars are sparsely parked throughout the lot, and as the sun goes down, she imagines there will be a thin wet sheen left on all of them. Peeling off her sweatshirt would make the most sense, but she didn’t expect to see Davrin when she committed to the leotard under leggings look this morning. There is no way she’ll be seen without a bra right this second. Given how she’s already melting simply under his gaze, she has to make him work for something.

“I miss you.”

So plain and to the point. He says it quietly. Not in the way of avoiding being overheard by a passerby, but rather, he intends it only for her. The statement is tender, intimate even. If the heat didn’t already have her cheeks flushing, they certainly would be now. He still stands with his hands in his pockets. His eyes are fixed on the ground between him. Like a little boy who’s been caught with his hand in a cookie jar too many times. It’s uncharacteristic of him. From that very first night, he’s oozed confidence. He is smooth and sure of himself. She loves that about him, so seeing this side is quite the stark contrast.

His chest swells with a deep intake of breath. “I used to break a lot of stuff as a kid,” he explains. “Drove my parents up a wall.” Imagining neat as a pin picture perfect Davrin giving his parents grief and making a mess is comical, but she folds her arms over her chest, watching as he fiddles with the item in his pocket. “Got to the point where my dad was so fed up with my shit that he taught me how to make something new with the things I destroyed.”

From the pocket, a small box is produced, the size and shape of which is familiar to her. Her brother recently slid a very similar vessel across her kitchen counter for her appraisal. To make sure the contents were acceptable. Were worthy of the answer he was looking to receive. Silvia sucks in a sharp breath. While that sort of box only usually holds one sort of thing, it certainly doesn’t really tie into whatever story Davrin is about delve into… right? She bites down on the inside of both cheeks in anticipation.

Eyes shift from the ground to the small wooden box that he’s turning over in his hand. “Snapped a door right off its hinges once,” he scoffs. “Dad had me turn it into a coffee table and didn’t make it easy for me either.” 

The coffee table that sits in front of his couch doesn’t draw much attention to itself. The surface is smooth and the rings in the wood are all mismatched between thin planks of wood. It reminds her of the expensive cutting boards her brother likes to purchase. Thin pieces of wood grouped together in clean even lines. Placed together piece by piece with a little elbow grease. She hadn’t even considered he might have made it himself.

“So I started making little things here and there.” A part of her wonders if he’s made the box he refuses to stop fidgeting with. “Mom got a mug rack. Made my dad one of those bottle opens you keep on the wall. My sister got a whole bookshelf.” Siblings. She hasn’t even thought to ask him about his siblings. All she knows about his parents is that they live a few hours away. Additional immediate family members have been a second thought. She can't help but wonder what else she's been too preoccupied to notice or learn about him.

Between the side of his index finger and the pad of his thumb, he now holds the box, deciding what exactly comes next. Her nostrils flare. Anticipation rolls through her belly. “Kept my hands busy and me out of trouble.” This troublesome boy is still a little tough to picture, but she thinks of that sideways grin and air of confidence and decides maybe he’s not too far removed from the man she knows now. “Maybe that’s why I became such an asshole. I can’t say I’ve done much woodworking as of late… at least not before this.” He holds the box out for her. “Here.”

She hasn’t said a single word since they came outside. The hairs at the back of her neck are curling with sweat in the heat. “For me?” the words leave her mouth quietly, barely even a question she means to consciously ask. This time when she meets his eyes, they’re staring right back at her. That fire he usually brings with him. That warmth she’s so drawn to. Something passionate and beautiful and unerring and so innately him whatever arguments she’s had well planned out in her head are gone. “You were really an ass.”

“I know,” he chuckles, though it's laced with a bitterness she isn’t used to. Someone or maybe more than one person has told him as much. Has affirmed what she felt wasn’t an overreaction. Has been on her side. Which thrills her much like finding a twenty dollar bill in a pair of clean jeans: exciting but certainly not expected. “If you don’t want it and would rather send me on my way, I get it.”

Shaking her head, she looks back down at the box in her hand. “I didn’t say that.” She would be hard pressed to kick him to the curb at the very least. It would reflect poorly on her to turn away the at risk youth he describes himself as. That’s reason enough to let him stay… on top of the fact she’s missed his voice more than she even realized. “I said you were an ass. Not that you should leave, or that I didn’t want a gift.”

He laughs a bit more genuinely this time around. Deep and hardy in his chest. She knows how the bass is rumbling in his chest, and she has half a mind to drag him back into her office and lock the door because of that. “I’ll take it.” He’s the perfect specimen. All tall and broad and carved from the most remarkable stone she’s ever had the pleasure of witnessing. 

Or maybe it’s never been stone at all. He isn’t cold like a stone. Sunlight practically radiates out of him. He’s the center of whatever room he’s in, and somehow she’s happy to stand in that light. To bask in its warmth. Perhaps he is never the marble man she pictures crafted in his likeness but rather a man built from the softest and most beautiful wood in the forest he loves so much. Crafted with such care that he shouldn’t dare enter her orbit, yet he remains. In that radiance, she would be more than happy to be the cat curled up in its warmth for days on end… forever if would allow it.

Fuck.

She clutches the box in her hand. “Davrin, I was invited to be a guest instructor at the company I used to dance for.” It seems like a different life. Drifting on an enticing emptiness through every performance. Counting. Hitting. Succeeding. Day in and day out in costume fittings. Breaking in new pointe shoes. Listening to the ever present whispers of more seasoned dancers. Dark and cruel words toward one another. Toward others. Toward her. Toward the universe. Smoking cigarettes after hard rehearsals late into the night. The empty feeling following her into bed each and every night. Thrilling and wondrous and mother approved. 

Confused, he shrugs. “That’s awesome… right?” There’s something stuck in his throat. Like there’s more he might want to say in response. Like he wants to question the topic’s introduction here. Much like his siblings, he doesn’t know much about what happened or even when she had been in the years prior to returning here. “I don’t know if you’re excited about this or not?”

The biggest draw to her studio in her home city is that she teaches classes there. She’s acquired her own following of serious ballet students. Serious enough to pay large sums of money and attend multiple classes a week in between homeschool lessons. But she wants to provide some safe space. A soft place to land and not have to listen to those intrusive whispers for as long as she can help. “I accepted,” she whispered. The box is burning in her hands.

“Okay,” he responds. She can smell his laundry detergent. Light and clean. Nothing overly fragrant because it gives him a headache. She doesn’t know when he got so close, but just a few more inches and they’ll be chest to chest. Either one of them could be the culprit moving in on the other. She doesn’t really care which one of them it is honestly. “There’s a catch?” She can hear his frown.

“I leave in two and a half weeks.”

“There it is.” She can’t bring herself to look at him. Not with the unaired anger and sadness in her eyes. He’ll immediately see it and insist on saying something nice, which will send her right over the edge. There’s already an email in her drafts rescinding her acceptance of the position. Offering to provide covering funds for whatever lodgings they have already secured for her. Choosing to stay and maintain her every day. The stable life with limited risk involved she’s built for herself. Maybe break up with a volunteer firefighter via text message who was a bit of a dick while hurt or make up with him and live happily ever after like some fairy in the woods she’s been a principal dancer in a show about. “How far away?”

Far enough that he mother didn’t have to worry about her. “About an ocean’s length,” is all she offers as a response. 

His brows shoot up, and he lets out a heavy sigh. “Damn.” There’s some nervous bouncing on the balls of his feet. An occasional nod as he processes the information. “That’s… not close.”

This wouldn’t be her first time breaking up in a parking lot, but somehow the sting of it is so much worse than any sobbing heartbreak she’s had with some shitty half baked boy trying to undersell her worth. She hasn’t even shed a tear yet, though the lump sitting firmly in her throat is begging to change that. The past weeks avoiding him and his shitty attitude have been wasted. If this is it, she would have had the fight right then and there while he was all battered and bruised. She would have taken a little more time together to enjoy the good thing before it fizzled into a grand nothingness like a falling star in the sky.

Hands land on her face with an impossibly gentle touch. “Hey.” She looks up and can feel the hot tears roll out of her eyes and over his thumbs. “Do you not want to go or–”

“No, I do!” she barks out, louder than she intends. “I do.” What a sap she is bawling in the palms of his hands. It’s only been a few months. It could have been more. She has no reason to be this broken over something that started as a blind fucking date. But it’s good. It’s so good. “I just don’t want this to end.”

His brows knit together. “End?” he repeats. “Are you ending this?”

“No… I… don’t think so?” She figures an ocean between a short term thing is enough of an axe to chop the head off of the relationship entirely. “I don’t want to… but three months is a long time.”

His hands leave her longing to be held in the stifling heat. “Open the box,” he says. Even. Commanding. The corners of his lips are curled up ever so slightly. She stares at him, crying in the parking lot of her own fucking establishment. Feeling like a fool in love. “Open it.”

She doesn’t know why she obeys so easily. There has been no apology. Just the fleeting chance that whatever this thing between them is might end. The teeth of the box yield to her touch easily and pop open to reveal the very thing she imagines could be in such a box, though it is quite different than what she might imagine. It’s still a ring but made of wood that appears to be such a dark brown she can barely make out the pattern in the grain. A thin broken line of green stones runs along the length of it. The varnish shines in the dying light of day. “I know you were trying to help,” he adds. She turns the ring over and over between her fingers. “And I didn’t appreciate that as much as I should have.”

Seeing him in that hospital had been difficult. Not only was it the middle of the night, but she was panicking now. Unable to get much of anywhere with the woman at reception. Her brother was no help. Then Davrin showed up with a forehead bandaged. All but hobbling over to her. Smelling like smoke and the goddamn hospital. There was nothing else she wanted in that moment than for him to be okay. She barely slept at all that night, counting his breaths and movements as best she could until the sun rose again. 

“I’m sorry, Silvia.”

It’s a token of apology. A piece that says he doesn’t know if his words will make up for everything, but he’s a beautiful creation I’ve made with you in mind regardless. It’s smooth and small in her hand. Something that has been so reserved and held in his past it’s been relegated to family now includes her. A tiny sob leaves her throat. “I’m so sorry,” she blathers, raising a hand. “Not about… all of that. You deserved the cold shoulder.” He laughs at this despite her meaning every word, and she doesn’t doubt that he hears her loud and clear as well. “I… no one’s ever… made me anything before.”

Not since grade school. Something like a picture or a valentine. A little fleeting craft to be shared between childhood friends. Nothing of note has had the effort put in like this. Each stone sits floating in the resin that’s been sanded and smoothed to a slick shine. Care has been put into each level of this tiny piece of an apology so much so that it has every wall she’s ever built crumbling at his feet.

The pads of his thumbs brush away stray tears once again. Her eyes meet his. Cool and sharp meeting warm and open. “I’m in this, Silvie,” he states firmly. An open declaration of words they haven’t mentioned in quite some time. “If you’re in this, too, that’s enough for me.”

Between his gaze and the lump in her throat, she’s overwhelmed by every emotion she’s tried to plow through since she’s met him. Serendipity is not meant for her life. The de Riva’s are plagued by tragedy and poor decisions. There has been no generational skip. There are no exceptions. They are destined for misfortune.

Yet the human embodiment of the sun wants to love her.

She should be called a fool for allowing this into her life, but even a fool is entitled to joy once in a while.

“I’m in this,” she agrees with a nod before settling happily against his lips.

[writeforfandoms]

Born for Greatness bonus 2

Find the series masterlist

One of the more common requests was for some of the courting between Price and momma bear! So, here we have some of their courting. Just bits and pieces. I hope you enjoy! 💖

Warnings: Swearing, kissing, shifter behavior, world building. 

Word count: 1.4k

It no longer surprised you when the pack sought you out to eat with you (or dragged you away from whatever you were doing to make you eat). It didn’t even surprise you that John sometimes shooed the others off and got the two of you a spot to yourselves, or that he sometimes brought food for the two of you to his office. 

And then he pulled out all the stops and did something like this.

“What’s all this?” You blinked at the pack room, the table actually set with a tablecloth and plates. 

“Dinner.” John’s voice was dry but he couldn’t keep the humor out of his eyes, even as he pulled out a chair for you. 

“I can see that.” You sat and watched as he served you, a little flustered. But only a little. “You do know you don’t need to show off for me, right?”

“What if I just want to?” He glanced at you as he set your plate in front of you before making his own. 

“Well, I’m certainly not going to stop you.” You breathed in deep, enjoying the aroma of non-mess hall food. “Did you send the boys out?” 

“Just Gaz.” John shrugged, totally unapologetic. 

You chuckled. “I appreciate the extra effort.”

John flashed you a smile, small but warm. Dinner was the easy kind of quiet that you hardly ever got - unhurried, with no pressure to talk, both of you at ease. And the food was good. 

And then he pulled you into cuddling on the LoveSac, insisting he’d clean up later. Which turned into making out on the LoveSac. 

When you finally pulled back from him, panting, mussed and warm, he just followed you to kiss your throat. 

“Could get used to this,” you mumbled, scratching the back of his head gently. 

“Which part?” he asked, lips brushing against your skin. 

“All of it,” you admitted, squirming a little, trying not to be embarrassed.

He hummed, low and thoughtful, even as he gently nipped your throat. “Good to know.” And then he set back to work, apparently determined to ruin you. 

At least until Gaz walked in, yelped, and backed out again. 

A couple days later John showed up at your room, knocking on your door. 

“Care to go for a walk?” 

“Sure.” You stood, stretching briefly (and pretending not to notice how his gaze dipped to the sliver of exposed tummy). “Where are we going?”

“Just around.” John shrugged. “No destination in mind, love.” 

You nodded and locked your room, following him outside and then tucking your hand into the crook of his arm. 

“Never expected to want to court someone,” he murmured once the two of you were away from the buildings. “Always figured I’d just have my work.”

You hummed softly, letting the words settle between you for a moment. “I never thought I’d want to be part of a proper pack,” you admitted. “Or that I’d accept a courtship.” 

“Guess we’ve both changed.” He smiled a little. 

“Not a bad thing.” You shuffled a little closer to him. “I’m glad.”

“As am I.” He pulled you off the path and behind a tree, leaning back against the trunk and guiding you to lean into his chest. 

“If I’d known I’d get this many cuddles I’d have said yes sooner,” you joked, settling your arms around his waist and happily cuddling into his warmth. 

He snorted softly, resting his head down against yours. “Don’t tell Soap that,” he muttered. “Or I’ll never be able to pry him off you.”

You stifled your laughter against his chest, delighted. 

The first time the team had to go on a mission and leave you was not easy. You weren’t actually very happy about it, and John had been grumping for days. 

You did not see them off that morning; you and John agreed it would have been distracting. Instead you said good night to them the night before. 

Half of you expected that would be it. You had some things to do to keep you busy, and you were arranging to go visit Logan. 

But you were still pleasantly surprised to find a little package waiting for you in the morning when you did finally leave your room. 

For you while I’m away, was all the note on top said. The package had a soft shirt of John’s and a scarf. 

You wore the scarf until you arrived at Logan’s, and slept in the shirt every night. 

Yeah, this courting business was not bad at all. 

One thing you hadn’t truly considered was that you’d have to meet other people. 

But Soap insisted you meet his family, and Gaz wanted to introduce you to his family (apparently both families had met the rest of the pack already and wanted to meet the newest addition). 

And then there was Kate Laswell. The only person John insisted you meet. 

Kate Laswell was not a shifter, but she worked with them enough that she knew the manners. She only met your gaze for a moment before focusing on your chin. You smiled. 

“It’s nice to finally meet you,” she said, holding out a hand for a firm handshake. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“I get that a lot,” you joked. “Nice to finally have a face to put to the stories.” 

“Hopefully they haven’t told you too much.” She definitely eyed the boys. 

“They probably only broke a few NDAs,” you said casually, grinning at the immediate outburst that got you. 

John huffed as he settled one hand on your hip, pulling you into his side. “Behave,” he grumbled at you.

“Only when necessary.” But you relaxed into him, finally used to the touching. 

Kate’s lips quirked in amusement and she started walking. “I knew recommending you for the job was a good idea.”

You blinked at her. “You did?” 

She nodded, as if that shouldn’t be a surprise. “Logan talked about you occasionally, I knew you’d be a good fit.”

You actually stopped dead. “You know Logan?” 

“Known him for years.” She smirked, clearly amused as she looked back over her shoulder at you, even as John prodded you into walking again. 

“CIA shit,” Ghost muttered from behind you. 

“Well, that feels a little contrived.” You narrowed your eyes. 

Kate shook her head. “Only that I suggested you be the one to get the job,” she said. “Nothing else.” 

You still weren’t thrilled, but you went quiet, letting John keep you close. 

It wasn’t until the next day that you had a chance to talk privately with Kate. 

“How upset are you, and how much of that is because you think you were pushed into this?” 

You huffed a little, not truly surprised that she could read you so well. “I’m not sure upset is the right word,” you mused. “And I know I wasn’t pushed into this relationship. You may have suspected that John and I would get along, but there was no way to know for certain that he’d end up courting me. Logan couldn’t even have predicted that.” You tapped your fingers against your thigh, frowning a little. 

“Agreed.” She didn’t try to touch you, just giving you a bit of space. “So, what is bothering you?” 

You slowly tipped one hand back and forth. “I… am not sure I can explain.”

“Try?” She leaned back in her seat, ankles crossed. 

You blew out a slow breath, tipping your head back a little to look at the weak sunshine. “I know I made my own choices. I’ve turned down jobs before, so I don’t feel like I was pushed into this one.” You made a face. “I think it bothers me that you implied you knew this would happen.” 

“Fair,” she allowed. 

You shrugged. “It’s not a deal breaker, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“I wasn’t.” Her smile was a little flicker. “John’s stubborn, he’d do whatever he needed to keep you. And my wife would probably kill me if I messed that up for him.”

You finally relaxed, smiling. “Yeah? Sounds like my kind of person.”

She chuckled. “I’m sure you’ll meet her at some point. We’ve had John for a few holidays.” 

The rest of the afternoon was much easier, both of you falling into telling stories about your families. (Yours were mostly about Logan but you had a couple good stories about your new pack, too.) 

When the two of you came back inside together still laughing, John looked a little terrified and immensely pleased.

[simplydannie]

Trigger Warning ‼️ : mention of pregnancy loss and blood.

A small story focusing on the twins parents, and Vivian’s beginning journey of trying to have a baby. Before the twins, the journey wasn’t always rainbows and butterflies… unfortunately it involved loss.

It was about three in the morning when Vivian awoke.

The blankets were draped over her and her husband after sharing one amazing night. Vaughn was asleep, his arms wrapped around his wife tightly, his face nuzzled at the back of her neck. She giggled gently trying to unwrap his arms from around her torso.

“Baby,” She laughed, “Baby, I have to go to the restroom.”

“Mmhm.” He murmured in his sleep as hestitantly let her go, “….Hurry back..” He was still half asleep, facing the ceiling with his arms draped over him. Vivian couldn’t help it, he was to handsome, she kissed his cheek before getting out of bed. She clothed herself with a robe and reached into her night stand pulling out a small box she had been hiding for weeks….a pregnancy test. Tonight wasn’t the only night her and Vaughn were together. She’d been keeping track. They’ve been married three years now, and Vivian has yet to concieve, being the way they were with each other, she had to get pregnant at some point…and she was hoping this was it.

Vivian waited twenty minutes pacing back and forth as she lay the test down in the sink, “Please, please, please, please…” She prayed over and over again. Her and Vaughn weren’t using any blockage to prevent her from being able to concieve….so why hasnt’ she yet? Viviain looked at the clock on the bathroom wall, one more minute.

“Please, please, please….A baby…Just one baby at least.” She continued to pray. Time was up….Taking a deep breath she leaned over the sink to look at the pregnacy test….

….. There it was…..

….. a positive pink sign.

She squealed, quickly covering her mouth. Vivian grabbed the test and hid it somewhere good; she wasn’t going to tell Vaughn, not just yet. She was going to wait just a little bit more.

Vivian looked at herself in the mirror, a smile growing across her face, “Finally!” She beamed. She had wanted to make him a father so, so bad. She wanted to give him the reason to leave this lifestyle behind and maybe just get out of Rageous all together…. And finally they could.

Vivian turned off the bathroom lights and made it back to bed. She crawled in next to her husband and hugged him tight, unable to wipe the smile off her face. Vivian nuzzled her face into his bare chest as he wrapped his arms around her once more… everything was perfect…

A week passes when she’s finally able to get a doctor to come around their home. Vaughn was out, so she had to be quick….

“Well, you’re nearly two months pregnant.” The older Rageon smiled as he began putting his things away.

“Two months? I’ve been pregnant all this time? I didn’t feel any symptoms or anything.” She places a hand over her stomach.

The doctor laughed, “You don’t need to show symptoms. It’ll just happen. The baby is looking good, so please, continue to take care of yourself just as you’ve been doing. I’ll see you again in another four weeks?”

…Till then, now that she had the confirmation, she began planning on how to break the news to Vaughn. Vivian wanted it to be special…it would be their first baby after all. He noticed her more than happy mood, the way she was much more affectionate. Vaughn was curious as to what surprise she was hiding, what was it she was planning. Before heading off one day he decided to ask.

“Okay. There’s something your planning. What is it?” He cocked his head to the side, a smile on his face.

A small blush came to her face, was she really that bad at keeping a surprise a secret? “Well, if you must know. It’s a surprise. A surprise you wont know about till you get back home. Now out!”

He chuckled, “Normally you don’t want me to leave, and now you’re practically kicking me out of my own home?”

“Yes. I love you. Be careful. Now shoo.” Vivian proceeded to push him out towards the door, but with maximum effort, he was nearly twice her height. Vaughn chuckled as she continued to try and push him out the door as he effortlessly just stood there, “Vaughn!” She complained.

“I haven’t had my goodbye kiss you know.”

“….You’re a menace.” She smiled grabbing his face and pulling him into a deep long kiss, “There. Now leave! I need to finish getting your surprise ready.”

“Fine. Fine.” He smirked as he walked off.

“…Stay safe.” Vivian murmured as she closed the front door, “Okay. I have to finish setting everything up!”

The hours went by and Vaughn finally made it back to the manor. When he walked in it was quiet, no Vivian to greet him as she normally did. A house maid walked by, “Where is Vivian?” He asked as he set aside his things.

“Oh, the mistress has been upstairs. Seems like she was getting something ready for you, sir.” She gave him a light smile.

He nodded, “Thank you.” He made his way up the steps towards their bedroom, “Vivian?” He knocked, when he heard no answer he pushed open the door….

CONGRATULATIONS! YOU HAVE BEEN PROMOTED TO DAD!

The banner read across their bedroom. He was in shock. This was her surprise to him…all this time….she was pregnant. He wobbled at his knees a bit as the realization hit him….he was going to be a father. A mixture of emotions ran through Vaughn: happiness, joy, anxiety. He wont deny that having a baby with Vivian was one of his goals, but would he be a good father? Especially in the life he was brought into? One thing was for sure….there was another precious life he was going to protect.

“Vivian! Vivian, this was your surprise all along?! Come here so I can hug you, darling!” He walked into the room looking for his wife, “Vivian?”

CRASH.

A sound was heard coming from the master bathroom. Vaughn bolted,sliding to a halt as he saw Vivian kneeling on the floor….blood surrounding her.

“Oh my god!” He rushed to her side, grabbing some towels, cleaning her up, “Baby, what happened? Look at me. What happened?” He brought her face to meet his, tears falling down her face twisted in agony and pain.

“….I just….I just needed to use the restroom…then…Blood….it wouldn’t stop��.why is there so much blood.” She began to shiver, her voice cracking as the tears began to spill out again. Vaughns eyes trailed where the blood was coming from…his heart sank to the pit of his stomach.

“….Oh Vivian…” He pulled her to an embrace as she broke down once again. She clung tightly to him as her body shook, letting out her pain and cries.

“…We were going to have a baby…a baby….everything was fine. The baby was fine…” She cried, burying her face into his chest, “Why? Why?”

“I don’t know sweetheart. I don’t know…. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“….No…no….I’m sorry….You were finally going to be dad…” She sobbed, “You were finally going to be a dad….i messed it up…”

Vaughn grabbed Vivians face, making sure she looked him square in the eye, “Don’t you dare think that you hear me. Don’t you dare. This is not in your control Vivian. Because if it was you wouldn’t have lost it. You would’ve fight to keep it….This is not your fault do you hear me. This isn’t the end. One day, Viv. One day.”

Her lipped quivered and she clung tightly to him. Her cries filled with pain and agony, “….Hold me….Just hold me and don’t let go…”

“…Always, Viv.”

Hearing the cries, house maids and guards came up to find them, but Vaughn signaled them to leave…he didn’t want anyone helping his Vivian another than him right now. He wanted to be her comfort…and so he was. He allowed her to cry in his arms till she couldn’t no more. Vaughn bathed her and changed her. Carried her to the bed, tucking her in, then went back to clean the blood…

When he went to check on her, he saw she had fallen asleep. Vaughn went to turn off the lights to leave the room.

“…No…No stay with me..” He heard her say. She looked at him with red eyes, holding her hand out to him, “…I don’t want to be alone…and I don’t want anyone else….Just you..” She told him. Vaughn smiled. He went to change himself then crawled into the bed next to her, wrapping his arms around her. She nuzzled her face into his chest….whenever she was like this she felt safe, comforted, secure….

“…Never let me go…”

“….Never, Viv…Never.”

[probably-flowers-and-cats]

woozy, yet cozy. shivering, yet scorching hot. tired, yet falling asleep seems pointless. blankets, heavy and warm. wet towel on his forehead, water slowly sliding past his ears and is ticklish. stuffed nose. labored breathing.

he turns his head, escaping the light. it makes the towel slip and plop down right in front of his eyes. he groggily tries to scramble away from the water, but he fails miserably.

damn.

he hears giggle. soft. hm. he feels someone's hand in his hair, gently brushing through tangled strands, despite them being soaked in sweat. the hand takes the wet towel away, and the light returns to torture him.

he groans and turns further, hiding his face in futon. it's stinky and wet, too, which makes him irritated. blankets start messing up with him as well, soft fabric clinging onto his hot and sweaty skin, and everything feels overwhelming.

he opens his eyes already angry at the world.

he sees Suo. who smiles. what an annoying jerk. he should share some germs with him. he stops himself. gather clues. sighs loudly and pouts.

"ya bein' too nice doesn't lemme even be angry at ya," he somehow manages to croak, wincing at his own voice. "get outta 'ere. skedaddle, shoo, shoo."

"I'm not alone," Suo almost sings it, tackling with something he doesn't see due to the angle. he assumes it's the stuff Suo took with himself. or the stuff Suo plans on leaving here, claiming his place to be his, too.

Sakura doesn't mind. somehow. it's all fever talking.

"both. ya. shoo."

"I meant myself and the spirit in my eye."

"can't help ya. not an exorcist. skedaddle."

"it takes more than one sick captain to get me moving from this place," Suo says, what a terrible vice-captain. "after all, you gave us quite a scare, collapsing in the midst of fight. you sure like to keep us alert, Sakura-kun."

"didn't meant to."

"oh?" Suo finally turns to Sakura, and the latter sees two cups for tea, roasted tea leaves, and a kettle with boiled water. oh, he's again making tea in his house. soon these walls will be smelling of teguangyin Suo tends to carry and brew at every given moment.

"didn't notice," Sakura explains, trying to get up. at least place himself in a sitting position. his back hurts. damn, he feels like he's 100 years old and is about to turn into dust. stupid cold.

Suo doesn't reply. Sakura watches him brewing his favourite tea. it's quite cozy, despite his miserable state. he feels tired, last drops of energy spent getting himself to sit. his eyes droop, mind blank.

Suo picks up the kettle and pour the water into a small teapot. water flows freely, leaves slowly straightening from their curled forms. Suo lets the tea slightly soak up some water and then pours the first water portion into a bowl. it's just slightly colored and spotty, meaning it picked up only dust and the thin layer on leaves.

he pours water again. now it stays covered for five more minutes. Sakura stares at Suo's fingers all this time. there's red spots on his knuckles, a tiny scratch. for someone who comes out of every fight unscathed it's truly a note to worry about.

Sakura does worry about it.

Suo doesn't give a crap about it, for whatever reason. instead, he picks up the teapot and slowly pours tea into cups. it's careful, very gentle. suits him. he takes one cup and hands it to him.

"what's with yer hands?"

he slips away, back into the sleep. the tea tastes like nothing, which is no wonder considering his stuffed nose and sore throat. it's warm, though, and this warmth travels all the way from his tongue to his stomach.

ends up in his heart.

Sakura lazily thinks that humans' anatomy doesn't work this way. it doesn't worry him much, though. maybe it should. but it doesn't.

he feels hands, again. one takes the cup, another slightly pushes him, and he falls back onto his futon. he thinks that he does need some more sleep so he would be able to stand on his own, and get some things done, and change his clothes, futon cover, and, and...

"when you was falling," he hears in a daze, "I've got you. that's all."

hm. there's should be more. and definitely is more, when Suo's hand stays on his forehead.

yeah. like this.

[stargirlfics]

sneak peek!

The Gentleman Chapter 7: This Heart of Mine

Hey lovely people! I am still working on a big chunk of this chapter but wanted to give y’all a little peek at some of it because why not and I have sooo missed writing for this series so it’s been neat to dive back into it 🫶🏾 hope you’ll enjoy this next one, it’s one of my favorite chapters so far!

Alfred lay awake, a soft but worried concentration set on his face as he watched you sleep curled next to him in the haven of your bed.

Flashes of Scarecrow cross his mind, then of losing you in the street and having to leave you alone at The Tower, the anxiety as he searched for Bruce, it all crept in with the quiet of night.

You looked like an angel wrapped in his sweater so he focused on how glad he was you were finally asleep, the exhaustion of the day’s events had caught up now and he only hoped the release he’d given you tonight helped ease the sting of danger and chaos that occurred not even twelve hours ago. 

He knew it was wishful thinking, barely able to sleep himself, heart wrenched when he dozed off some time later and startled awake to find you out of bed, only guided by the soft glow of your bathroom lights that illuminated where you sat crying and curled in on yourself at the edge of the tub. 

Immediately he was at your side, hushing your apologies for the state he’d found you in, hoping the way he gently took your wrists in his hands would bring warmth or relief, anything at all to quell what he could only imagine you were feeling. 

Oh, my darling. 

It hurt to see you distraught.

The panic in your features made him feel sick but he kept the dread from showing as best he could, not wishing for you to see how quickly it was hardening into rage as he cradled your sobbing form against his chest and reassured you that you were okay, because he was here and the night terror still lingering behind your eyes wasn’t real. 

“You’re alright, just keep taking breaths with me, yeah? You’re at home, it’s safe here and I’m not going to let anyone hurt you.”

The last few words slide off his lips in a quiet promise, one made with a clenched jaw and an icy conviction going straight down to his bones just as steady as the snow falling outside, the kind he hadn’t felt since those early days caring for Bruce on his own.  

Alfred didn’t let his mind drift too far into that territory yet knowing he needed to think, to come up with a plan. 

Christ, there was far too much ground to cover with so little information still, a ripple of stress threatened to cloud his mind but he needed to focus on you right now. 

It hadn’t taken very long to realize he needed to make sure you were okay in order to be okay himself, to calm down and think properly. 

Helping you get back in bed and snuggled in his arms again had worked to soothe some tension despite the pit in his stomach as he watched you blink away tears while your fingers curled around his and it isn’t lost on him that you had sought his comfort. 

“I’m almost scared to sleep again, what if I have another bad dream?” Your voice is tired, weary and it sends another pang through his heart.

“If you do I’ll be right here to shoo it away but you do need rest, lovely. How about I tell you a story to help you sleep?” He’s pleased when your eyes perk up at the suggestion, you have told him before that he could tell the best stories. 

Maybe he’d go for an old favorite, the one about finding what he thought to be old treasure on a trip he took to the English coast, a place he wants to show you one day if he could get you both through this madness safely. 

But even as he began to speak and you tucked your face into his shoulder he knew there was no other option for him now, it wasn’t an if but an outright certainty that he would do whatever was necessary to keep you from harm.

There may or may not be lots of emotions in this chapter so 🥹🤭 I’m really excited! This was only about 600 words or so of a sneak peek but I hope that’s okay because there’s a lottt more coming and I hope to be finished with this chapter completely by next month, so thanks for all the love and patience as I work on it. It’s really appreciated and I feel more excitement and anticipation than nerves or fear about delivering on chapters going forward even if I do take my time 💕 Thank you all!

<3 dividers by @/saradika-graphics <3

[writing-until-i-drop]

Wildflowers For A Hangman Ch. 7 Pt. 1

Summary:

Daisy, a career novelist, moves in with her college best friend Phoenix who has been permanently assigned to Top Gun with Dagger Squad. She finds herself instantly connected with a cocky pilot who's soft only for her and Jake can't help but want to know everything about her. When the past comes knocking at both of their doors, will they stand together or fall apart?

Or: The Dagger Squad can't cook and Jake falls in love with a woman who makes a mean lasagna while they work their personal trauma.

Jake "Hangman" Seresin x writer!femOC | 18+ (eventually) minors dni. Fluff, smut (eventual), idiots in love, past trauma.

A/N: Daisy and Jake have a conversation. Natasha plays wingman.

AO3 Link

Previous Chapter

The house smelled delicious, I had spent the last few hours making the perfect bolognese sauce, homemade focaccia, and I had tiramisu ready in the fridge for after dinner. The Daggers were coming over for dinner and I had received a dozen texts from the group about how excited they were to have a home cooked meal, it made me feel good. The day was perfect, Cassandra had given me twice as many pages as I had anticipated, all of which I sent over to my agent to read. For once in my life, everything seemed to be falling into place. 

“Honey, we’re home,” Rooster was the first through the door, the rest of the group trailing in after him with shouted greetings and proclamations of how good everything smelled.

“Wash up, everyone!” I shooed them all away from the kitchen, even Natasha who pouted at me, but Jake just grabbed my hands, pulling me to him. He kissed my temple,

“I missed you.” 

“It’s only been a week,” I rolled my eyes but wrapped my arms around him, relishing in the warmth rolling off of him. Sure, it was largely my fault we hadn’t seen each other, dodging his texts and coming up with excuses not to go to the Hard Deck but that didn’t mean I hadn’t missed him. 

With everyone laying into me about how much Jake and I should get together, I needed a few days to breathe and sort through my own feelings about him. Plus, Cassandra really had been chatty this week, giving me a valid excuse to stay away. I raised up on my toes and pressed a kiss to his jaw, “Wash up, Jake. I’ve got to finish setting the table.” 

I pulled away but he pulled me back, pressing a long kiss to my forehead, sending my stomach into a nervous frenzy.

“We’re going to talk about this later.” I nodded, looking anywhere but him. I could feel his eyes on me as he washed up in the kitchen sink while I finished setting the table, even as the others filed back into the room. 

“Thanks for dinner, Daisy,” Bob gently squeezed my forearm with a smile.

“I already made you a take home box for later, it’s in the fridge.” Bob’s eyes lit up like a kid on Christmas. 

“Do I get one too?” Rooster threw an arm around my shoulders, “I shot down three of these guys in training today.” 

“I’ll give you an extra helping of dessert, Roo.” I patted him on the gut, “Now-”

“Now, we take our hands off the little lady,” Jake pulled me away from Rooster, “And sit down at the table.” 

“Who says the little lady doesn’t want my hands on her?” Rooster asked with a grin and Jake dug his fingers into my hip, staring down his friend and roommate. This was…a first. I’d never been stuck between two guys like this before and it had officially rendered me speechless. Luckily, Bob had my back.

“Alright, let’s not do this,” Bob pushed Rooster towards the table filled with trained naval aviators who all needed to take an acting class.

“Come on,” I patted Jake’s hand, removing it from my hip. “Let’s eat.” 

After dinner everyone spread around the apartment, Javy, Rooster, and Bob were playing video games in the living room, Phoenix was arguing with her mom over the phone in the kitchen, the rapid mix of Spanish and Italian giving me flashbacks to when Natasha failed a midterm sophomore year. Cassandra had started to speak again and Jake had accompanied me to my room, laying on my bed while I wrote. Once I reached a good stopping point, I turned to find Jake under the covers, reading one of my New York detective books. 

“You took your boots off, right?” He grinned, putting the book down on his chest.

“Want to come check?” 

“You’re an idiot,” I laughed, stretching as I stood. “And a cover hog.” 

“I can share, Wildflower.” He held up the other end of the blanket and against all good judgment, I climbed in with him, snuggling into Jake’s side. “How are you feeling?” 

“Sleepy,” I stretched an arm across his center, my fingertips coming in contact with his bare skin where his shirt must have ridden up. “How are you feeling?” 

“I’m good, sweetheart,” Jake kissed my hair. 

“You like to use nicknames a lot,” I muttered, tracing circles into his side. “Is it because you guys use callsigns at work?” He didn’t say anything and I found myself filling the silence. “Like, do you use them for everyone? Do they mean something?” 

“Are you asking if I call everyone sweetheart, sweetheart?” I tensed, was that what I was asking? Shit, it was. Jake didn’t seem bothered, running his fingers up and down my arm soothingly. “Well, there’s a ranking for things like this. Honey, darlin, and sweetheart are low hanging fruit, I’m from the south after all. Next up would be personal nicknames, based on things that are specific to them.” 

“Like Wildflower?” 

“Yeah, like Wildflower. I thought about calling you kitten too,” I cringed,

“Please don’t.” Jake shook with laughter,

“Next, every guy has the one name they use that’s reserved only for girls he’s serious about. Also, I don’t have nicknames for you, I have pet names, there’s a difference.” 

“What’s your one name?” I needed to know, my curiosity more than piqued at this point.

“Jake.” 

“That’s not what I meant and you know it.” I pinched his side. 

“No need to get rough, Daisy.” He kissed my temple, “It’s baby. I don’t ever call girls baby.” Oh. My heart dropped to my stomach, a heavy but oddly comforting feeling settling in my chest. Jake’s heart was beating loud and fast beneath my head, he was waiting for me to say something. If I did, it could change everything. If I didn’t, we could lose it. That’s what time did, it stole things away from us. I took a deep breath. Fuck it. 

“You call me baby.” 

“I do.” 

“I like when you do.” 

“Good,” He kissed my hair again, “I wasn’t planning on stopping.” After a moment he added, “You ready to talk about this, baby?” No, I was not. I moved away from him just enough to see his face, which was soft and unguarded. I took a deep breath, consciously dropping my own walls. The phrase now or never seemed a lot scarier when the now was now. 

“The idea of whatever this is scares me,” He cupped my cheek but stayed quiet. “And honestly, I don’t know when I stopped thinking you were teasing me and started believing you were actually flirting, but-” I sighed, closing my eyes for a moment to gather some courage. “But I’m right here if you’re here with me. Does that make sense?” 

“Perfect sense,” Jake leaned close, his cologne surrounding me as his lips brushed against mine. Then again more firmly. His lips were warm and soft, moving gently against mine, his hand sliding into my hair. Heat bloomed in my chest, spreading through my body as the kiss became more feverish. I parted my lips, letting him deepen the kiss as he laid me back onto the bed. 

“Jake?” He moved his kisses to my cheek, then my chin, and my neck, making my head spin. “I have a house full of people downstairs.” 

“Yes, baby?” His lips found a spot on my neck that made me gasp and Jake focused his efforts there, lavishing the spot with his tongue and teeth until I knew there would be a hickey the size of a bowling ball there for the next week. “Fuck, you’re making such pretty noises for me.” 

“Jake,” I whined, digging my fingers into his side, “We have to stop.” 

“You’re right, we do.” Jake gave me three quick kisses before rolling back to the side, “Because when I get to do what I want to do to you, you’re going to wake the dead with how loud you’ll be.”

X

A/N: This chapter was longer than I realized and I had to break it into two parts

Part Two

Taglist: @dizzybee03 @littlezee80 @cinderellasmissingshoes @carolina-on-my-mind03 @mizzzpink

[colleybri]

Together, on this beach

(Rebelcaptain appreciation week day 1 prompt: Significant Moments)

I would have loved to cook for you, on a beach like this.

Freshly caught fish, perhaps, cooked simply on a fire in a pit in the sand. No salt required as the sea lingers on their skins. Maybe a little pepper if we had some. The scent of the cooking brings you near and you watch as I turn the fish on their skewers, the skin blackening and popping a little with the moisture. I see the need in your eyes as you ask: “Is it ready yet?”. That same hunger in your eyes that first held me in their tight grip made literal here - and I catch a child-like gleam in them now as you bend nearer to look and to allow the sound and smells of my cooking to entice you. “You’re a man of hidden talents, Captain Andor,” you flirt, unashamedly, and I have to shoo you away as the need to just keep looking at you is too strong and I don’t want this meal to be anything other than perfectly cooked. But you keep coming back to where I kneel before the fire, distracting me by embracing me from behind and watching on, your chin resting on my shoulder, until the meal is finally ready. Then I watch you try to guzzle like a child, and you yelp when a bone pricks your mouth. And you also burn your tongue and your fingers too because you are so impatient and impetuous and run headlong into eating as you do into many things. And afterwards you start to lick the juices from your fingers and at the sight of that my own hunger becomes too much. We clean each other’s fingers, then each other’s lips.

We have strong appetites.

I would have loved to dance with you, on a beach like this.

To music of our own imagining, or drifting in from the distance because we are alone, together, as we dance on the shoreline. The water laps around our bare feet. The sun sets and the first stars emerge. The air stays warm, and we dance on. You like to lead, sometimes. I let you guide me, feeling your gentle but insistent support. I am strong and whole again, and your fingers feel good against the muscles of my arms as we dip and sway, and you trust me absolutely now. It ‘goes both ways’ - and so do we. Our movements are graceful, balanced, organic and united. We are like one being, perhaps some strange yet beautiful creature from the sea, come to shore this quiet night to flirt a little with the land. Who needs a ballroom on Coruscant or Chandrila and who needs fine clothes; your combat gear is as beautiful to me as any flowing gown, and far more real. And when we finally tire of dancing I will enjoy unwrapping you like a present I thought I could not possibly ever deserve again.

I would have loved to lie with you, on a beach like this.

Our only blanket, the warm night sky. Our bed, the sand: soft courseness, tactile, getting everywhere. You grumble “This will be shedding every time I shower for weeks,” and we laugh, easily, as if we have known each other for years. Enough phosphorence in the gently lapping waters to allow us to see each other, clearly. The softness of your skin, soothing on my scars. The softness of your eyes, soothing on my soul. Like the tide, we rise and fall - the rhythm of the waves in each movement. Sometimes a gentle sea. Sometimes a storm. Always in motion as one.

And we cry as we make love. Happy or heartbroken or both. I kiss the salt warmth of your tears as your body stiffens with another sweet climax, and your cries on each crashing wave of pleasure pull at my heart all over again and I weep too because all sex like this is built on the knowledge that this time, this most clear and beautiful ‘now’, might be the last. I had always had trouble, before, saying ‘goodbye’. As if never saying goodbye would keep goodbyes at bay, somehow. But now I know our final goodbye gives life meaning, and true beauty has sadness too amidst the pleasure. So we relish the before, and the after too, and each moment in between of the long warm night. The next moment and the next until the moments run out. And soon enough I don’t think, for each of those nows, of everything I’ve lost - but concentrate on what I’ve gained instead: the knowledge that I tried my best. Hope.

You.

I would have loved to sit with you, on a beach like this, and watch a sunrise.

And that, I have. We have.

Your arms are strong and supportive, and you have supported my soul as well as my broken body. In the elevator, you realised you were losing me and I wanted to comfort you, but I could hardly breathe for the agony and it was only the sight of you that kept me from fainting. But I wanted to see you without your own pain on your beautiful face and I could hardly stand it and almost wanted to look away, but I couldn’t and I didn’t. Feeling the life draining away I wanted the light of your face shining on me through the coming darkness. But I didn’t want to give you the pain of seeing my pain and I’m sorry that you did.

So in a way, seeing the blast and our clean, painless and mutual death coming… gives me strength again. I can comfort you, and myself, knowing this. I can rally myself one last time and give you what I know I would have wanted. The same message I needed, and didn’t get, on the beach at Niamos.

I give you the love of your father. My final gift of words.

You take it so gratefully, and gift me in turn with your hand, taking mine, and then the warmth of your embrace. And you hold me and support me again as you have held and supported me throughout this last vital mission, when I realised I could recommit to everything I believe and learn to love again through you and with you - side by side and heart in heart.

The Rebellion came first. We took what was left.

In this life, we couldn’t have more than this. But we have had this. We will always have had it.

So in my mind and in my heart, and in this universe and in much kinder ones… we will eat, dance, make love… and die in each other’s arms. It is what’s left. It’s ours, forever.

Together, on this beach, we have what might have been.