#or at least not paying yet. maybe in a month or so i might just buy it so i can keep showing my brother more seasons

[gilverrwrites]

If that ask was too long and elaborate, I have another one!

What about a fic with Batman, where the reader finds out she’s pregnant and doesn’t know how to tell Bruce since he already has mature/ teenager kids and she doesn’t know if he wants to raise one from the infant stage to adulthood.

She kinda overthinks about it and distance herself from Bruce. He notice it and when she would confess, to her surprise, Bruce would get super exited!

What I don't understand

AN: I'm back baby! At least partly, my hand is still on and off achy so I won't we posting as activiely as I have previously. I've done so much research on pregnancy that all my adds are now of pregancy tests, fertilitie test, baby stuff, I'm worried my bf might start to suspect that I'm pregnant which would be akward Bruce Wayne/F!Reader, 3.9K words CW: Husband/Wife dynamic, pregnancy, feet (none sexual), mentions of vomit, body dysmorphia, lying/sneaking around, prenatal anxiety/depression, martial problems, swearing. Fluffy ending tho!

Pregnancy brain is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different result. Or maybe that's insanity, who knows? You ponder the thought as you fidget with the flimsy cardboard packaging of the pregnancy test you're awaiting the results of as if you don't know the answer. You'd already taken countless tests, trialling different brands in the hopes of a different outcome but every single one of them had confirmed your situation with variations on lines and plus signs. They'd never offered you a negative, and yet you keep trying.

There was no denying it, and pretty soon there would be no hiding. You were fast approaching the end of your first trimester at 9 weeks but had only found out about a month ago. The task of informing Bruce while there was still time to act seems to grow bigger and scarier with each passing day. Not to mention; it's becoming increasingly obvious that he already suspected something is wrong.

3 weeks ago:

The cold tile against your aching feet felt like ecstasy. You couldn’t help but close your eyes and lean against the wall, relishing in every second of release as you awaited Jason’s return.

You’d spend hours hiding your pain, precariously balancing in a pair of heels as you kept up appearances during a charity event being held at the manor. Bruce was currently being cornered by a visiting dignitary, and as bad as you felt leaving him alone, it might have been your only chance. You’d slipped away to an off-limits hallway, grasping Jason’s who had drawn the short straw for event appearances along the way. Once out of view to your guests you’d begged him to retrieve a pair of pumps from your bedroom, the petty prospect of keeping it secret from, and thus getting a one-up on his adoptive father being the primary motivator. That and he owed you, a lot, for defusing many situations in which he and your husband had butt heads.

The weight of your discarded shoes hung heavily from your fingers, you hadn’t realised how weighty they were. A shame, because they were so pretty. They were a gift from Bruce, strappy and bedazzled, the perfect colour to match your dress. Another pair for your ever-expanding collection, he’d always favoured gifting you shoes and purses, and you certainly didn’t mind, at least not until your ankles had begun swelling at the mere notion of being used for their primary function.

“Are you okay? You seem off.” Jason’s voice returning to the hall made you jump out of your stupor, and he watched with concern as you tucked your heels behind a curtain and slipped into the flats he’d brought you.

“Fine, fine.” You smile, patting his arm with a reassuring smile. “Just didn’t wear those in properly and now I’m paying the price.”

“Right.” He still seemed dubious and was about to say something else when a door creeks open, redirecting both of your attention.

Bruce stood in the doorway, stern, arms crossed. He glares at the both of you, he and Jason have a very similar glare. His eyes focus in on you, identifying you as the main culprit, his gaze roves across your form, lingering on your feet for an uncomfortably long time before speaking.

“If I have to suffer through this, so do the two of you.” He points behind him. “In.”

Jason’s face is obscured as he takes the lead, but Bruce must not like his expression because his frown seems to deepen.

You followed close behind, careful not to step on the hem of your dress now that you lack the additional six inches the heels had offered but your integration back into the crowd is halted. Bruce traced his hand along your back, cupping the curve of your waist and directing you to a lesser populated spot amongst the outskirts of your visitants.

The stony look on his face was gone, replaced with a polite smile for the crowd and softer eyes for you.

“What happened to your shoes?” His voice was low, in-perceivable to anyone but yourself.

“My feet were sore is all.” It’s not a lie.

“Too sore for dancing?” He asks, voice as slick as silk and you don’t want to agree but yes, they are too sore dancing. Not to mention you’d gotten nauseous from standing up too quickly only hours earlier but damn if you didn’t want to dance with your husband. Want to feel his chest against yours, his hands on your curves, admire the smile on his face. There are few things you enjoy more than any form of intimacy with Bruce.

“Maybe later.” You sighed, “I think I need to sit down for a while.”

2 weeks ago:

‘Breast changes are another very early sign of pregnancy. Your hormone levels rapidly change after the egg is fertilized. Because of these changes, your breasts may become swollen, sore, or tingly.’

You groaned aloud, rereading the entry on WebMD once more. You hadn’t expected your breasts to change so early on, incorrectly assuming any swelling or pain would be a result of breast milk, but you were wrong.

Believing you had the house to yourself, you figure now was as good a time as any to read up on more early pregnancy symptoms, to correct any other misconception you might have. You were midway through reading about progesterone and how it causes constipation when your laptop pinged.

A notification popped up in the corner of the screen, a DM from UserDC27, Bruce’s bat-server codename. You click to open the message and audibly gasp when a screenshot of your browsing history greets you, framed in red with its own ‘suspicious activity’ notification in the corner.

‘Pregnancy trimesters in weeks’ ‘Swollen breasts pregnant’ ‘Early pregnancy symptoms’

Amongst all the suspicious browsing habits of this family, of course yours had flagged up! Fucking ridiculous!

UserDC27: ? UserRI01: For a friend UserRI01: dw UserRI01: Love you x UserDC27: is typing… UserRI01: has signed out.

1 weeks ago:

“Good morning.” A familiar voice greeted you, strong hands slink around your body, brushing against your back and hips before settling on your stomach. What should have been a sweet moment frightened you, disturbing you from your train of thought and causing you to almost spill your morning decaf coffee.

“Woah there.” Bruce laughed, the warmth and proximity of him soothing you quickly. He effortlessly took the mug from your hands and settled it on the kitchen island so he could pull you closer without spillage.

“Sorry.” You mumbled, turning your head to rest it against his chest. The strength of his cologne is always so much stronger in the mornings, the scent of the man you love, of citrus and woodsiness does wonders to comfort your frantic brain no matter the time or place. “Just lost in thought.”

After a second you realise your mistake, you’ve allowed him an opening to ask what you’re thinking about and that exact moment certainly did not feel like the right time, what with Damian in the next room. You should be alone, completely alone.

He surprises you however, always one for keeping everyone on their toes, by spinning you around to face him and telling you, “I don’t think that’s it.”

“What do you think it is?” You tried to keep your voice airy, relaxed, unsuspicious but even you can hear the guilt in your tone.

“I think you’re tired.” He watches you with a playful glint in his eye, but the next words out of his mouth are accusatory no matter how light his tone is. “Where are you sneaking off to in the mornings, oh wife of mine?”

“W-what?” You heard him fine, you were stalling while you calculated a response. You had been sneaking off in the mornings and the fact that he’s asking so playfully, as opposed to interrogating which he is not unknown to do even with you, means he knows more than he’s letting on.

Bruce isn’t exactly an early riser, often too tired from long nights of crime fighting and case filing, but he is a light sleeper. Always on alert. He’d already caught you in a bought of morning sickness once. Roused by the unpleasant noises you’d been making. You’d lied about it, citing an upset tummy from something you’d eaten. You weren’t sure which was worse, the vomiting, the sombre expression he’d given you as he approached to rub your back throughout, or the look of horror on Alfred’s face when Bruce had brought up your supposed food poisoning later that day.

Ever since you’d purposely been rising early and sneaking off to dispel any nausea in one of the many guest bedrooms.

“Nowhere, I’m just becoming more of a morning person I guess.”

He eyed you sceptically, and you thought you might crack under the pressure. His hands reach up to cup your face, preventing you from turning away. His touch is so gentle, so soft for a man of his stature. “You can tell me anything, you know that?”

“Of course.”

As if you couldn’t feel worse he adds; “I miss waking up to you beside me.”

“Oh Brucie-“

You’re already on your tip toes, ready to concede, to apologise, to shower your sullen husband with kisses when you’re saved by the signal. Literally, a call from Duke 'The Signal' Thomas, with a reminder of your apprehension; an active situation that needed Batman’s participation.

Your relationship, and now marriage to Bruce had always hinged on an unspoken understanding that Gotham comes first. Even with Tim taking over most of his responsibilities at Wayne Tech, Bruce simply does not have enough time to raise a baby. You can't expect him to take turns with the nighttime feeds, with the frequent nappy changes, with the constant attention an infant will need.

You’ve no doubt Alfred would delight in assisting you, he's been dropping hints about wanting a baby Brucie since the engagement, and you love him very much but if you’re to raise a baby, you want to do it with your husband, not his butler.

That’s presuming your husband even wants a child. Another child. He already has enough children to populate a small village. Children with lives of their own. Children who in some way or another have followed in his vigilante footsteps. You think of the stress and trauma each of them has faced, and how it has affected them and their father. You think of Steph and her tremulous relationships with Bruce and Arthur. Of Jason’s deaths, plural. Of Dicks ineptitude to form meaningful relationships with anyone outside of the lifestyle. Of all the childhoods so many, but especially Cass and Damian missed out on. Could you be responsible for putting another child through any of that?

Furthermore, if your child wanted to live this life, could you really stop them? Nobody stopped Tim. Nobody stopped Barbara, when Jim had tried it only caused the rift between them to grow bigger.

Could Bruce stop your unborn child? Would he want to?

Speak of the Oracle. The chime of your phone draws you out of your spiral of perinatal anxieties. It’s Barbara, informing the girls-only group chat that she’s running late for lunch. Crap. You’d completely forgotten that you’d promised the girls lunch and shopping. Barbara had some tech on hold, Steph wanted to try the new caramel cookie waffles at Goodilicious, and Cass needed new boots whether she knew it or not.

Hurriedly, you shove the used test into a previously disused makeup bag that is now full of other used tests. It's starting to smell, but you don't have time to figure out how to stealthily throw it out, so you hide it at the back of a cupboard behind a basket of sanitary products before rushing out the door.

Later

Catching up with the girls had been fun, it had really helped you forget about your predicament and just relax for a while, but it had also taken a lot out of you, keeping you out well past dinner. Your body just was not functioning as well as it used to, for obvious reasons.

Upon returning to the mansion you’d made it to the ground floor lounge, feet too sore to even consider the stairs, and collapsed on the closest couch, exerting just enough energy to pry your shoes and sock off of your swollen feet prior to falling asleep. Just a quick nap you tell yourself, to regain some energy, you’ll be right as rain in time for Damian’s bedtime. He’s old enough now to put himself to bed, especially given that he often patrols with his father until the early hours of the morning, but tonight is his night off and you’d always make the effort to wish him sweet dreams when you can.

You’re awoken by the feel of calloused fingers pressing into the arches of your feet. You hadn’t heard him enter, but Bruce is sitting on the arm of the couch, in nothing but sweatpants and slippers. Between his bare chest and cowl hair, he is a welcome sight, bruised chest and freshly cut lip and all.

“What happened to you?” You ask, voice husky from your impromptu nap. You manage to draw your eyes away from Bruce long enough to check the time on an antique wall clock, it’s 4 AM. You’d far exceeded a nap. “Where’s Damian?”

“Nothing I couldn’t handle. Damian is asleep. When you didn’t wish him a goodnight he came to look for you, that’s how I knew you were here.” He asserts. He looks at you with a furrowed brow and pinched lips, working his thumb into the arch of your feet with just enough pressure to make you mewl in relief. “Are you punishing me for something?”

The question hits you like a ton of bricks, it’s not without merit. You hadn’t intended to spend the night on the couch, but you can understand how it must look to him, especially in tangent with the ways in which you had intentionally been avoiding him; sneaking out in the mornings, not allowing him to see your naked body for fear that he’ll notice your swollen breasts, and growing belly. You hadn’t had sex in at least three weeks.

All at once you are overcome with remorse. You’d been so consumed with the pregnancy and how best to approach the subject with Bruce that you hadn’t stopped to think how your actions would weigh on him. He’s so strong, your anchor, an unchanging presence for the whole family. He locks himself and his emotions behind the big bad bat or billionaire Brucie so well that sometimes he forgets he has them. Sometimes you forget. Even now, clearly hurting and concerned for his marriage, he’s rubbing your feet.

“No of course not Bruce, I’m sorry…” your mind starts to form the end of your apology ‘I was just so tired’ or ‘it’s been a long day’ and they wouldn’t be lies but they’re not the right thing to say. You can’t keep postponing for the ‘right moment’ that will never come, can’t keep chickening out. He needs to know the truth. “I’m- I’m pregnant.”

You’re not sure how you’d expected him to respond really. You’d feared anger, hoped for joy but instead, he continues to stare at you, his brows raising in a way that implied he needed more information. He swaps your left foot for your right as he awaits your resumption. When you don’t speak he nods and states; “I know.”

“You know?” As though possessed your tired body launches into an upright seated position. “How could you know?”

Bruce smiles in response, an amused, tight-lipped ‘Are you kidding?’ smile.

“Well, to name a few things;” he counts off each observation on his fingers. “You’ve stopped wearing heels because your ankles are constantly swollen, your breasts are also noticeably swollen even under your clothes, you now only drink decaf, you seemingly have ‘food poisoning’ every morning and at no other time of day, a massive increase in urination, and my personal favourite, the bag full of positive pregnancy tests behind a crate-full of menstrual products that haven’t been used in almost three months.”

He’s trying to hide it, but he’s smug about his own detective skills. His mouth might be straight but there’s a fire in his eyes that has you drawing your legs away from him with a huff, abruptly ending the massage you had been enjoying. “How long have you known?”

“I’d had my suspicions for about 6 weeks, but I wasn’t certain until I found your stash last week.” Typical of Bruce to have figured out you were pregnant before you’d known yourself. “What I don’t understand, is why you didn’t tell me. Why you’ve been lying.”

“I’m sorry, I know I shouldn’t have kept this from you. I was going to but…” You trail off,  straightening your thoughts as best you can and finding your composure, preparing to begin monologuing about your concerns. “I didn’t know how you’d feel about it, what with you know, already having so many kids. Everyone but Damian has flown the nest, Dick and Babs are married! They’re all so grown up, do you really want to start again? And then…”

Conscious of your rambling you cut yourself off, looking to Bruce for reassurance that you’re not talking too much, that he’s not offended by your worries. He consoles you by coming closer, sitting on the cushion beside you and easily coaxing your legs over his. His firm hands are gentle as they grasp your knee.

“And what?” He questions.

“I wasn’t sure how I feel, I wanted to figure that out before talking to you.”

“What do you think you feel about it?”

“I think I want to have your baby Bruce, our baby.” So caught up in your thoughts, you hadn’t noticed your husband’s hands creeping higher and higher up your body until a hand settles on your stomach, his thumb stroking you through the fabric of your shirt. You’d been so self-conscious of its growth but as you look at it now, under Bruce’s sturdy fingers, you realise it isn’t much bigger than it had been pre-pregnancy. How tedious your problems seemed when voiced and put into perspective, except maybe one. “I’m just not sure about how… well I guess I never thought about raising a child within your lifestyle.”

“I understand.” He nods, confirming his statement. He’s done well to keep his face soft but neutral throughout, a staple of his Batman facade but also a careful way not to let his own emotions interfere with yours.

“What do you think?” He looks down at your abdomen as he considers his words. You follow his gaze, watching as his fingers lift your top, exposing your skin to him. Without warning he lowers himself to pepper your belly with gentle kisses, the ticklish motion causes you to giggle and writhe beneath him.

When he looks up at you again he’s smiling, the motion causing the scab on his lip to split and bleed. Without thought you pull yourself closer to him, using his broad shoulders as leverage. Once close enough you dab at the minor wound with your thumb soaking up the fluid as best you can and examining the cut to ensure no further damage.

Bruce watches you intently the whole time, cupping your face in his hand when you appear satisfied. The adoration in his eyes makes you feel sheepish even after everything you’ve been through together.

“I think,” his voice is low, sincere. “I couldn’t be happier to be growing our family together. I think this child, like all our children, will be lucky to have you as a mother, whatever life they choose to lead.”

The amount of pent-up tension in your body had not been apparent to you until now. Until your body noticeably lightens in response to his words. The relief of no longer sneaking around, no more fretting over how he might react has you wishing you’d done this a long time ago.

“Bruce?” You sag into his chest, breathing him in. His arms unconsciously wrap around you in response, pulling you in for a tighter embrace. “We’re having a baby.”

“Were are having a baby.” He confirms, pressing more, tender kisses to your neck, the curve of a smile apparent as his lips press to your exposed skin. "I've been waiting for this moment since the day we me. But, I think it’s time we got to bed, it’s late.”

Swift and practiced, Bruce lifts you from the couch, cradling you in the bridal position. You stretch to check the clock, 4:34 AM.

“Technically it’s early.” You jest, expecting him to punish your cheek by jolting you in the air or throwing you over his shoulder as he normally does, but instead, he chides you with an amused glare, clearly too concerned about the baby for play fighting.

“Neither of us has been to bed, it’s late.” His grip tightens on your body as he makes his way up the stairs, one steady step at a time. “And I expect my wife to be in our bed when I wake up.”

“Hmmm.” Your morning sickness has eased in the last few days, you’d only persisted in sneaking out to be safe, but he doesn’t need to know that just yet. “I’ll try, but I might be in our bathroom.”

“I can cope with that. At least then I can care for you. And we can throw out your hoard.” You don’t fuss over the likelihood of him having to rush off to save the day or for an urgent board meeting, you just throw your head back, laughing at yourself for trying to hide anything from Bruce.

When you reach the bedroom he lays you in the bed and climbs over your form. He’s in full caretaker mode, a manner you could get used to. He carefully removes your clothes, offers to redress you in your sleepwear and to bring you your lotions, or anything you should need from the bathroom.

Dawn is breaking behind your blackout curtains by the time you’re both settled in bed, entangled in each other’s arms. Sleep has nearly taken you again when Bruce whispers; “I do have one other thought.”

“Oh?" You peer at him curiously over your shoulder. "Yes dear?”

“I think you should be the one to tell Damian.”

His request hangs heavy in the air as you consider the implication. “Tell Damian that he will no longer be your only blood child?”

The room remains silent, he doesn’t expand because you know what he’s getting at. Damian probably won’t mind, because he’ll still be the oldest, the first in line and you’re certain he’ll be a wonderful older brother, he’s great with animals, so why not babies? Right?

“… That's not fair.”

“Think of it as penance for lying to me all month.” There’s an air of humour in his voice as he pulls you closer still, squeezing himself into your back and planting sleepy kisses against your neck. “Besides, he’ll probably take it better from you. I think he likes you more.”

[adkawariatka]

Hi, it turns out that fanfiction is really addictive and I still cant move past any recomendations without checking it out. So I have another idea for a dcxdp crossover….

Danny is living on Gotham streets for 4 months. Its perfect hiding place becouse of its aura. Many tradic deaths and general danger on every corner creats ideal barier for all sorts of ghost hunting equipment. Danny wos relucant about Gotham at first but after few failed attempts at finding hiding space, he decided that to hell with that and he will at least try. And thank the ancients that he did because its perfect. No one pays him any attention there is too much homless out there. Even if most kids are staying at Crime Alley seeking Red hood protection. thats one of the reasons why he hestitated at coming to ghotam: vigilinates. They are dangerous, becouse of partnership with goverment…. Who according to Anti-Ecto laws considers him non-sentient and in need of contamination or more often elimination. So yes Danny wos relucant but it turned out fine….. for now. No ghost or human gosthunter found him yet so he counts it as a success. Any other city, forest, mountains or everything else he tried didn’t last longer that a month. He might not be proud of his surviving technics like stealing, laying and dumpster diving but its not like he has a choice…. He is too much alive to be accepted in to infinite relams for good which is dumb if you ask Danny becouse he is at the same time its Crown Prince. But maybe Danny is just too naive or something. He does not care. On the other hand he is too dead to be accepted by humans so he kind of floats in between never to fit properly anywhere. He is surviving, and for about a year he wos completly alone until that one day…

Danny wos sitting on the bench in his favourite park close to lovely Café that had really beatifull cupcakes with blue whipped cream. He liked to pretend that he is a customer there and just waits for his order….that wos never placed…. Well who is he kidding he is just creepy homless kid that stares at people eating sweets from across the street. Pretty pathetic IF you ask Danny but he prefers not to dwell on his mental health thank you very much. So he is staring when a group of kids takes one of the outside tables. And like a serious creep listens in to their conversation. Well its not like he can swich off his super hearing.

The boys are talking about some homework from school. Danny assumes they are classmates becouse of their maching clothes. When to their table comes another one with darker skin and black hairs. The occupants share meanigfull glances and let the newcommer sit. Danny knows that look. It does not indicates anything good. Its the expression that Dash would make whenever he wos about to do something awful to him. Then the guy with blonde hair says

- Damian why don’ t you eat with us?

And then procedes to push the plate with cookies closer to the boy

- I thought I informed you Winser that I do not eat anything made of milk or other animals products. I am vegan.

Answered Damian with monotone voice. He sat incredybly straight and wos so stiff that Danny thought that must hurt.

- But its so good. beside I offered it. wouldnt it be polite of you to at least try?

Wisner insisted. Sly grin on his lips.

- Leave him be Mike he probably has problems with digesting such hard avaible products.

Said boy to the left with massive collection of pimples on his Chin. Danny named him spotty.

- I do not have any „digestive problems” as you put it Jenkin. I simply choose not to.

- of course pardon our lack of knowledge. Its just we worry that your… original diet wos a little lacking… or maybe you ate a little too much chocholate when you where younger. Thats all

And all of the group snickers to spotty „jokes”. Danny Thinks its primitive and disgusting. Racizm is low blow specially after Damians next words:

- I do not understand

And they laught even more. Damian just sits there confused and oblivious to insults vowen in to conversation. And Danny listens and decides that he must tell that boy the truth. He cant turn blind eye to that. He may no longer be a hero but that? He can help with that. Soon bullies get bored of throwing hidden insults at Damian and go away. Damian sits at their table alone staring at the crumbs of cookies. He looks lonely. Danny standard and walks over to him. But before he reaches the table his occupant whirles to face him. His eyes are very green. Not like ectoplasm but close. They are pretty expresive. Danny can see frustration and confusion in them.

-hi there!

Geats cheerfully.

- I don’t have any cash on me right now

Its the first thing Damian says to him. Rude Danny thinks even if he does looks like a beggar with his thorn jeans and dirty jumper, but he has a mission. And he does the one thing that helps him in stressfull, akward or life treathening situations: he turns it into a joke

- Shame but I will make an exeption for you and give you my services for free

- I am not interested

Damian seems irritated now. Danny procedes to ignore him and sits at the table.

- Well as an expert in friendship I can tell you that those guys weren’t your friends. Better keep away from them

- Thats none of your business. Go away

- well maybe not but you should know what they were saying to you….

And then Danny proceded to inform Damian about the hidden insults and racizem comments. Damian tried to say something and even walk away but Danny wos presistent. When he finaly finished Damian exploded

- Leave me you insolent lowborn go find yourself another imbecyle to milk for money! Or I will stab you!

- Wow that same fancy insults there. I havent Heard lowborn yet. Anyway have a good day!

And Danny proceded to turn on his heel and walk away. He left Damian dumbfoned staring at his back. if the boy decided to do something about this then good if not then Danny at least feels like he did everything he could in this situation.

-

Damian wos confused. That homless lowborn wos strange. He wos not familiar with Damian nor his family. But. Damian couldnt stop thinking about what he told him. About his classmates their words and hidden meanings. Damian wos not hier to Demons head and son of Batman without a reason. He had skills, keen mind and wos curious. So he checked, he spent almost all night reading different forums and sites about bulling and racizem. He tried not Think about how much he resembled Drake in the morning. What he found wos…. Not plesant. It turned out he missed a lot of signs of his position at school. It wos unbeconing of someone of his class. He wos glad to be aware of that problem but now he did not know what to do with it. Father and Grayson expected him to make „friends” and up until yesterday he thought he fullfiled their orders thru his classmates but now he realised it wos failure. He did not want father to Discover his mistake. So now he has different problem he does not know exacly what that „friendship” wos supposed to be. Internet wos not really helpfull, there were so many diversive definitions that he wos confused about what wos true. He wos not going to admit to father or Grayson his incompetence. He will find solution himself. He has one idea that just might work. The lowborn named himself expert in friendship. Damian just has to find him and ask. He seemed willing to sell his knowledge.

-

Danny wos a little confused and suprised to see angry boy from two days before him. In his defense Danny did not start this conversation. It wos Damian who came to his bench across the café and demanded his services. Which wos weird in itself even before he asked about the price. But he did remember that he made a joke about services so that checks.

- look I am not…

Started Danny but Damian cut him off.

- you introduced yourself as an expert in friendship so I require your services. I will pay generously.

God now Danny wos going to be arrested for child manipulation and thieft. No that can’t happen. He already is hunted for his halfa status that’s enough.

- Listen I don’t want any money. I joked that day. I saw a kid being bullied and stepped in. Further events does not concern me.

Danny tried to leave but the kid wos presistent.

- Well your knowledge proved usefull. I want more

-kid, Damian I don’t want to get in trouble by using you or something. I am pretty sure there is some paragraph for that. Ask Google, it’s better option. And without me involved

- you think I didn’t do it already?! I am not stupid, but the information there are contradicting itself and I can’t distinguish what is true and what is not!!!!

Danny looks at Damian. He is shaking a little, and his words are colored by desperation. Ancients this is trouble… but he wos in this situation before wosnt he? A boy who does not know basic social skills in foreign dimension…alone and lost. Fuck he can’t leave Damian hanging. He can feel his fear in the air. Damn ghost abilities.

- Fine what’s your problem?

-

Danny has been meeting with Damian for over 2 months now. the kid wos socially awkward but quick witted and genarlly nice company. Well Danny wos alone for so long that his judgement may be clouded by he does not dwell on that. It’s nice having someone around. And Damian talks to him. He missed that. First few meeting wos a little awkward but it got better. Danny tried to be helpful,?first they talked about the school interactions, who even wos a friend. But then they got deeper, it turned out that Damian knew about social interactions little to nothing. They talked about family how it works, what it should be like. It wos ironic considering Danny neglectful parents and dangerous home. But he knew how it should look like. Jazz make sure of that when she wos alive. Then Damian started to open up about his origin. Trainings, mother and weird hierarchy. Well Danny saw a lot wilder shit in the zone. A kid from assassin cult wosnt the most shocking but still fucked up. He thinks that Damian might be even winning his little competition: „who had more screwed childhood” He thinks that his calmness helped Damian to share. Ancients he feels like Jazz…. It is not that bad. Damian brings him snacks, becouse Danny refused any money. And Danny talks to him too. Tells him about the stars, laughs about stories of Sam and Tucker Damian will never know who is he talking about so there is no harm. First time from death of everyone loved he does not feel alone.

-

Damian didnt plan to get close to Danny. It wosnt the plan. But he wos such good listener. Danny wos systematic in his explanation of reactions and habits that are „normal” in society. He wosnt showing horror or acted surprised when he told him about discipline in league or it’s hierarchy. He didn’t even flinch when he conveyed stories of trying to establish his position in manor by attempting to murder Drake. He listened then pointed out how different manor and league functioned and then calmly suggested that he should talk to Timothy. Just like that no screaming or anger. Now he knows why father wos so frustrated with him. According to Danny family doesn’t have strict hierarchy or rules punishable by death. It wos strange to have everything finally explained. He understands so much more. He sees that Grayson tried to explain it to him before. But as much as he is fond of the man he wos unsuccessful in his attempts. But he still has one problem… father told him to make friends. It’s a mission that he is failing right now. And if he is being honest he is not talented in this department. Not that he will admit it to anyone… well apart from Danny. When he asked him what else he should do to accomplish this mission he got quiet and fidgeted for a while and then offered

- well if you want I can be your friend

Damian stopped his walk and stared at him. Did Danny filled all the requirements? He did helped Damian not expecting anything in return which friends are supposed to do according to Danny himself, his presence wos entertaining. They understood each other. Both suspicious of their surroundings and cautious in every situation. They know about each other a lot of useless information like favourite food (Danny loved burgers), colors, hobbies or general interests.

-yes that would be acceptable

Damian saw the happy glint in Danny’s eyes and the way he relaxed. They started to walk again as if it wosnt admission of most importance.

So I may post a little follow up about how Tim reacted to Damian apology? I will see. As you can see my writing isn’t the best sorry😅. So in here Danny’s family and friends from Amity are dead and he is 16-isch Damian is fresh from the league and is obviously confused.

[merakiui]

ex-husband floyd thoughts...

in which you're living alone with your daughter. it's been two years since everything, and you're all settled. it took a while to truly feel secure and stable, and you received lots of help from family and friends. surprisingly (or maybe not), floyd's twin brother was one of the first to extend a helping hand. it's mostly thanks to him that you were able to have enough money to pay the first few months of rent at your new apartment. but now you're back on your feet, and things have never been better.

your daughter didn't understand it when you told her she'd be living with you from now on. awkwardly, you tried to explain that papa couldn't come with because he was getting involved with some bad people, and that was dangerous. your daughter didn't understand or believe you. it was difficult. you know how much she adored her papa and how much he adored her. but this is for the best. this is safe.

following the divorce, your daughter started saying strange things. things like "i saw papa today and he made me a yummy lunch!" you tell her this can't be; that was the babysitter, not floyd. besides, the dishes are clean and everything is stocked as it normally is. there's no evidence floyd could have been here. furthermore, he doesn't even have a key and your daughter isn't tall enough to reach the doorknob to let him in. your daughter calls you a liar and storms off most days because you refuse to believe her stories. that's all they are, really. she's just missing her papa.

you told floyd you had no problems letting him see her so long as he cleaned up his act and stopped getting involved with delinquents. seeing as it's been two years and floyd's still running from people, you (as a parent) have a responsibility to keep your daughter safe. and you know it's terrible for her and floyd, but this is the best option you can think of. the safest option.

floyd thinks that's bullshit because he can protect you and his daughter plenty, but then he gets it. you never liked the shadows that accompanied his surname. he understands. but he thinks it's awfully unfair of you to just cut him out of your life when he promised you he'd change and do better and be better. :/

he sees how hard you work, how rough it gets when you haven't been paid yet. he has jade send you money because he knows you don't want to see him, and most of the time you accept it. but sometimes it's sent back, accompanied with a note thanking him for his generosity and that you can manage by yourself. again, floyd knows this is bullshit.

his shrimpy works so hard. :( you deserve a break.

so when you're sleeping every night, he pays your apartment a visit. you've started sleeping on the couch most nights, with the tv still on, your work spread out on the coffee table, your daughter tucked away in her bed... it's hard being a single parent, isn't it? why don't you stop being stubborn and let him back into your life? floyd will take good care of you. he always has, hasn't he?

he carries you to bed and tucks you in, cleans up the room, stacks your books, prepares a meal for you to heat up tomorrow at work, etc. and how do you respond to his kindness? you go and change the locks without saying anything.

so next time floyd thinks he has no choice but to be drastic. so next time floyd will make sure you understand that there is no life worth living if it's not you and him together. as a pair. as a whole. you might be frightened when he wakes you up in the middle of the night to drag you back to his home (to your home) and you might continue to be scared of him when he confines you to the basement, but this is for your own good. think of your daughter! she deserves to grow up with both parents. at the very least, be good for her sake.

floyd tells your daughter that you're in perpetual timeout because you've been bad and she believes him. after all, it was you who refused to let her spend more time with her papa. that's a very bad thing to do!

floyd brings you your meals, carries you to the bath, bathes you, dresses you... you scowl at him the entire time, call him crazy, tell him to get away from your daughter, refuse to eat, fight him every time he tries to undress you for the bath. he smiles, eerily patient, and simply says, "i'm willing to letcha see her once you've cleaned up your act. you can do that, can'tcha?"

[sandsorghum]

synopsis: Higuruma makes *you* breakfast in bed for the first time

wc: 1.7k tags: fluffy! (unlike his eggs) . established relationship. romance.

a/n: inspired by @breekento's absolutely lovely photoset. a lil idyll, a smidge of indulgence. i couldn't help myself when he's so boyfriend-shaped [to the best of his abilities because...it's higuruma after all]

You were both supposed to be paying off some fairly massive sleep debts;and you hadn't even been incurring them in the usual fun ways.

The tradeoff of being slumber deprived to be a little depraved - ok, maybe more than a little - was hardly a dilemma for you and Higuruma; something you had figured out together early on in your relationship. Just one more way the two of you complemented each other, a pair of stubborn night owls turned lovebirds.

But work has been brutal; you're up to your neck in revisions to proposals for the sustainability bureau, and Higuruma's latest case had him building his defense strategy from scratch twice over now.

You can't remember the last time you shared a dinner that wasn't microwaveable. And pretty soon even the heaps of instant ramen packets were replaced by looming piles of onigiri wrappers, threatening to spill out of the bins - because fiddling with tiny sachets of powdered soup and rinsing out pots became too much of a luxury. So it was lots of take out, and very little making out.

You came to cherish the front doorstep to your apartments, a sacred altar where your bodies crossed each other in the morning bustle, swift as pedestrians, surrendering to serendipity; yet Cupid's best efforts could only conspire to the briefest, briskest brushes of your mouths before you hurried off towards your hectic jobs.

Evenings fared little better. Slouching past where he'd be collapsed on the couch at 2am, you'd drop a peck on his forehead when you could, if you had the strength to peel back the post-its with comments on penal code sections and the stacks of annotated alibis, gentle in your excavation of the mountainous documents, even as you know there's never any erosion of Higuruma's workaholism.

So you got good at deciphering the same crabbed handwriting on the fridge's notepad, mostly apologies and promises, before they dwindled down to hasty scratches of frowny emojis, blotting out dates on the calendar. All of it sincere, and all of it thwarted.

Weeks grated by like that, with their numbing addendums of cancelled grocery lists and rainchecks, strings of his snarky texts and your grumpy selfies becoming the lifeline of your relationship.

A month or maybe two, passed and finally, finally the pitches were accepted, as were the plea deals. Surely things could go back to normal now?

So, when you rolled over this morning anticipating a long overdue snuggle against Higuruma's chest, to instead find only a cold spot on his side of bed, the chagrin prickles through you so sharply it pierces through the groggy fog of sleep you still very much need.

"Hiro..." The pillows, absent of even his scent have the further audacity to muffle your grumble. But then you feel a slightly self-conscious chuckle roll honeywarm over your spine, and the dip of the bed as it welcomes the return of a weight that never should have left it at this hour.

"Sorry darling, I got hungry. Figured you might be too."

Your head creaks to the side, a warm scent wafting through the final defenses of your pillow fort. It's one you haven't smelled in a very, very long time.

"Masako's?"

Higuruma chuckles at the disbelief in your voice, still slumber-hoarse.

"That's right, made the pilgrimage all the way to Yoyogi. Just for you."

You hear the scrape of a knife and a rich, buttery aroma mingles with the morning air. Then you hear Higuruma's voice, dredged in huskiness from his drowsiness, drawling close to your ear. "So, forgive me yet?"

Your huff is already half buried in the pillow as you turn away from him and Higuruma sighs, wishing you'd at least treat him to your scowl. But he'll play along, after all it's been a while since the both of you could squander a morning on feigned pettiness.

"It's cute when you pretend to hold out on me," he muses, teasing his fingers through your locks before a heated palm comes to cup your cheek. "But the bagels are getting cold."

You can't help leaning into Higuruma's touch, purely instinctive, a vine supine toward its sun. But still you manage to mutter, "W'er s'posed to cuddle this mrngh."

You feel the grin in his voice long before it sneaks up to the corner of your lips. "We'll have the whole day to cuddle..."

Higuruma's aquiline nose dips down your neck, stopping just short of the spot he knows elicits a hitch in your breath. "Or not cuddle."

Drat him, and those nimble fingertips, just starting to skim beneath the hem of your shirt, summoning butterflies so swiftly you're uncertain if the swoop in your belly is from their innocently tickling antennae, or his digits' dexterous pretense of roaming your skin idly.

"For now, I'd like you to acknowledge the attempt I'm calling an omelette."

Now that has your eyes snapping open and jolting upright, shuffling around to stare at your partner who, for all his towering intellect, has never been able to distinguish a whisk from a sieve.

"You cooked? I didn't hear anything. What happened, were the batteries dead in the smoke alarm?"

"I'll have you know I actually replaced them recently."

Your skepticism retreats as you register Higuruma's mildly wounded expression. He turns to the side table, retrieving a breakfast tray and setting it before you. True, the yellow oblong by the perfectly browned discs is a little squat and misshapen, but it's distinctly missing the burnt, greasy odour you've come to reflexively associate with even his best attempts.

But this morning, you aren't even seeing any flecks of black. In fact, you start to notice the specks of green.

"Scallions?"

You raise the dish, squinting at the garnish, before lowering it to stare at Higuruma.

"Who are you and what have you done with my lover?"

"I guess I'm just some other man who's fallen for the charms of your terribly exacting egg standards," he deadpans, ruffling your hair and pressing a fork into your hand. "Now dear, if you'd be so kind as to make your judgment."

You take a sip of tea, made exactly how you like it (black, half a teaspoon of sugar, sans milk or creamer - maybe this man seated across from you isn't an impostor after all) and once you've washed down your bewilderment, set to properly tackling breakfast.

You take a breath, and let your fork cleave through the omelette. It cuts through cleanly, and doesn't wobble once on its way to your mouth.

It's...edible, you decide. Serviceable even, provided you were getting served at a road side gas station. But then you remember who cooked it, which practically makes it a 3 Michelin Star meal.

"It's good. Properly seasoned and everything." You smile, taking another bite.

"So how many dozens of eggs did you go through before you achieved this masterpiece?"

Higuruma shakes his head and huffs, casting his eyes heavenward. "Oh ye of little faith."

"In my defense, this is a novelty, Hiro. You've never spoiled me this way before."

You chuckle, tweaking his cheek, and his put-upon morose expression falters, as affection glimmers in his eyes instead.

"Three-quarters are still intact," he informs you, watching you sip your tea.

"Three quarters of the carton?" Your lip curls knowingly around the edge of your mug, and something stirs within Higuruma.

"Of the tray," he confesses, pulling your hand into his, starting to rub soft circles against your wrist.

"Couldn't be too cautious, hm?"

"I had Wikihow's assistance. And it's not my first time cooking eggs, you know."

You chew on the bagel for a quiet, contemplative moment.

"But the first time serving them?"

Your partner shrugs, but the way he averts his gaze for a moment tells you what you need to know. You squeeze his hand, and he looks back up at you.

"Thanks, Hiro. For making the morning special." You brush your forehead against his, savouring his happy hum reverberating against your cheeks as you put the tray off to the side.

"With this display of confidence, maybe you could even try tamagoyaki some time."

"Well, now that seems a tad ambitious-" Higuruma begins to equivocate but you shut him up with a kiss, tossing off the quilts and clambering into his lap, your appetite truly having been awakened at last.

He lets your hunger rush over him, falling backwards as his tongue greedily clambers towards yours, feeling a burden lift as your weight presses him back into bed, as your hips settle into their slow, needy grind against his. He kisses you, drinks you in more deeply, tasting the tannins of the tea he'd over-brewed while fussing with that dang omelette, but mingling with your scent and sweetness, it's nothing short of the most potent ambrosia. Higuruma groans, he's been parched of your taste and starved of your touch for weeks and weeks and he wants - needs you to drain him of these reservoirs of ache and desperation that have been suffocating him for so long.

Delirium and his desire floods through you, Higuruma's hands skittering everywhere, almost antsy enough to shred the fabric off of you. Higuruma nips urgently at your lips and you let his tongue, his limbs, his scent coil around you, entwined in his essence and embrace. His name spills from you in shallow gasps, pleading for a minor reprieve from the pleasure, but he persists, busying himself at your nape, suckling eagerly, flint-edged nose and canines planting tender bruises. It's only when you flinch slightly from the overstimulation of his roving mouth that he relents, reluctantly, tipping your head back to assess his efforts.

He likes what he sees; Your skin glowing in roses, dewy with his sweat and spit. Your famished gaze, devouring him as he devours you

"Maybe you should spend more time in the kitchen after all," you giggle, running your hands through his scalp, and you feel that burst of familiar wet heat as Higuruma quivers underneath you, a sodden spot growing and twitching against your core.

He presses his lips to you once more, his smirk both scalding and saccharine as he murmurs, "Never mind my rudimentary culinary skills darling, I'm going to spoil you in all the ways you already know, and then some."

@houseofsolisoccasum

[halfwayhearted]

…What Are We? — Pablo Gavi.

Pairing: Pablo Gavi x Fem!Reader

Summary: Four months into your guys’ relationship, the realization that you’re not a priority is hitting you harder than you expected. You decide it’s time to talk to him about it.

Word Count: 690+

Disclaimer/s — Angst… angst… angst…

A/N: OHHHHHHH YEAHHHHHHHH.

Things between you and Gavi were going… okay.

Okay, because it wasn’t going badly per se, but it definitely wasn’t going, well, good. With him slowly getting back into training and practice, you wouldn’t be able to see him as much, which was fine. He was happy, and you were happy for him.

Though, with that, confirmed one of your doubts: that he would start treating you like you weren’t there. He would simply wake up, eat, get ready, and then leave for hours and hours, only to come back and do nothing but shower and go to sleep.

He just couldn’t bother making any time for you.

And at first, you understood. This was quite literally his passion—something he loved and was finally able to get back into after such a difficult journey. He deserved this. You knew he did.

But after a couple of weeks of silent, empty days and painfully lonely nights, missing the comforting warmth of your boyfriend’s presence, you realized you just couldn’t bear it anymore.

Fortunately, you had managed to secure at least thirty minutes with him, your back turned to him as you prepared a quick and easy breakfast.

Do you just… go for it?

Yes!

“So, I was wondering if you wanted to go out this weekend? It’s been a while since our last dinner date.” The question was met with only silence.

Looking over your shoulder, you felt your smile slowly fade when you saw he was packing up his bag, paying zero attention to you. The usual. You just wanted one weekend with him, to solidify that your relationship would be fine, that this wouldn’t actually break something so, so good.

“Gavi?” You uttered with a frown, taking out a plate and carefully placing the food from the pan onto it. No answer, yet again. “Hey, Pablo, I'm—”

Lifting his head, his gaze falls onto the plate in your hand. He takes a few strides toward you and gently grabs hold of it. “Looks good, thank you.”

Your heart drops. “Did you, uh, hear what I said?”

“This weekend,” he states, “I’ll be busy, I’m sorry.”

Busy. He’ll be busy, of course. Wringing your hands together nervously, you say, “It’s just one night. I thought practice ended early then.”

The man runs a hand through his tousled hair. “It usually depends. Maybe another time, yeah?”

“Right, yeah. Well, that’s what you said last time.” You hadn’t meant to say that. The way he stiffens tells you all you need to know. “I just—I… feel like we aren’t spending a lot of time together lately.”

All he does is stare at you, unsure of what to do or say. You were clearly disappointed. Not in him. He knew that. Just in how things have been. “I know, and I’m sorry. But practice is going really well for me, and I might even have a chance to play soon.”

“I’m happy for you,” you quickly replied. “I am, I promise. I love that you’re finally able to do what you love again. I just don’t want it to ruin this. What we have, you know? I mean, four months, I don’t want that to just, I don’t know, be gone.”

His eyebrows pinch together. “Well, me neither. Listen, I just don’t have time, okay? It’s not you.”

“Why is it so hard to make time? I miss you.” Your voice breaking with defeat. Keep it together.

He breathes out your name and slings his bag over his shoulder, like he couldn’t be bothered to actually stand there and communicate with you. “It’s just hard, that’s it. It’s hard balancing this. I have to go, but we can talk about this later.”

If your heart hadn’t dropped before, it certainly did now. After saying that, he placed a small kiss to your cheek before exiting your apartment.

His breakfast still sat on the table, untouched and now cold, a silent testament to his absence.

You knew ‘later’ wouldn’t come. This was a habit.

There was nothing else you could do about it now. You let out a sigh and slumped into a chair.

Likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated ^_^.

DT(s) — @pedrilcvr ! ౨ৎ

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

Would I be the asshole if I refused to pay my phone bill?

📱🧾♿️ <- To recognize my post for later :)

The title is probably already a bit of a red flag, but I genuinely didn’t know how else to word it…

For context: I am a disabled, chronically and mentally ill trans guy who recently turned 20. I haven’t left home yet for a lot of reasons, some being that my parents promised to let me live rent-free so long as I was in college (which I am, just not currently for the summer) as well as the fact that they really haven’t raised me to be very independent and rely solely on them (which is honestly a whole other can of worms), but primarily because of my disability. It isn’t safe for me to live on my own, as I faint commonly, cannot stand up for more than maybe fifteen minutes at a time roughly, and sometimes am unable to eat for long periods of time due to debilitating nausea which leads to weakness. I also have severe chronic pain in my limbs and gut, something I’ve had most of my life, while my chronic illness I’ve only had for about a year and a half now and am still struggling to adjust to.

Because of my disability, I also can’t work a traditional job. I offer art commissions online, because I’m very passionate about art and it’s one of the few things I’m good at, and I haul in a decent amount, but certainly not enough to live off of. I make enough to set aside some good savings (I’m currently saving for a wheelchair, as that might grant me more freedom and the potential to get a job at least for the summer) while also indulging myself in buying the occasional fatty treat (I’m very underweight so that’s not an issue, and I was raised essentially in an almond mom household all my life, so this form of eating is really the only sense of control I have over my life, as I’m fully dependent on my parents elsewise).

The issue has come upon relatively recently. I feel like a huge entitled brat for it as well, and if others believe the same, I sincerely don’t blame you.

My mom sat me down the other day and said that she expected me to start paying at least one bill. She offered my cheapest bill (which would be for my phone; my parents bought it, and it’s theirs, they’re just letting me use it as my own.. I don’t own a whole lot of “my” items myself) and asked what I thought about that. I was fully honest with her: if I had a steady stream of income, I wouldn’t hesitate to offer to pay for all of my bills, but with the way it stands, I just don’t make enough month-to-month to regularly afford the bill. I also do my commissions through my phone, so if I could afford the bill, my phone would be turned off, and I’d be unable to continue.

My mom got very upset and started talking to me like a child (though she really has every right to, honestly, and I know that). She went on a very long rant about teaching me responsibility, and how I can’t rely on my parents forever, and that I need to grow up at some point… All things that I fully agree with. I sincerely want to! I want nothing more than to be fully independent. But the way it stands, my parents cover my entire medical bills and they pay for my meds… And I just don’t make enough to survive on my own, and I can just barely afford a meal or two from a sandwich shop I enjoy twice a month to keep my sanity in check because I’m usually bedbound.

I tried explaining to her that I would if I could, sincerely, and that I’m not trying to be a leech or lazy, but she wasn’t having it. She just scolded me and said that if I can afford to eat out every month, then I can afford the phone bill. But again, with the way things are, I don’t think I’d be able to do it every month without tapping into my savings, which again, is for my wheelchair so I can regain some sense of freedom for myself. I’m seriously debating just telling her no straight out, but I don’t know what the aftermath might look like…

So, sincerely: Am I in the wrong here? Should I just swallow my protests and cough up the money somehow? I really don’t know and would love an outside perspective.

[gguk-n]

Wheels of Desire (Fernando Alonso x Lance Stroll's friend!Reader)

Summary- Finding an older man attractive is the oldest rule in the book, what if said older man is a little hesitant?

{Reader's POV}

Lance and I had recently made acquaintance through our fathers a few months ago. Since we were closer in age, we started to get along quite well. That's how I found myself at the Canadian Grand Prix. Did I know anything about cars? Nope. Did I know anything about Formula One? Nada. But was I supportive friend? Debatable. My dad wanted me at the race, I have an inkling they are trying to set me and Lance up but I believe that ship sailed a long time ago since he already has a girlfriend. That's Lance's burden to bear not mine, I'm here to keep up appearances.

I had the Aston Martin paddock pass slightly sway along as I strode to the hospitality. I did not know anyone here and that asshole didn't even come to greet me at the entrance. As I walked in, I spotted Lance. I smacked the back of his head, "You knew I came here for you, yet you wouldn't even come and greet me" I whined. "I thought you were a big girl" he laughed giving me a hug. "Whatever" I mumbled when my eyes met the man in front of me, who was also dressed in the same shirt as Lance. "Fernando, this is Y/N Y/L/N. Y/N, this is Fernando Alonso, my teammate" Lance introduced us. I smiled at him and shook his hand.

I pulled Lance to the side before whispering, "I didn't know your team was this hot" "He's old enough to be your dad." he pointed out. "He isn't my dad and my dad's way older than him" I explained. "Y/N come on" he whined. "Listen, you don't have to do anything, I'm pretty enough to handle it on my own, my only qualm is you hid that beautiful Spanish man from me" I said flipping him off. "How do you know he's Spanish?" he quizzed. "Accent and name, pay attention Strulovich" I sighed. "Now, if you'll excuse me I have a hot man to woo" I whispered and sauntered over to Fernando.

It was tragic honestly, even I could tell the way I was practically throwing myself at Fernando at this point and this man wouldn't even bat an eye. My spirit was starting to run low. But I wasn't giving up just yet, the weekend had just started and I had 2 more days.

Lance took me out to dinner to cheer me up. "In your defence, Fernando probably likes older women not infants" Lance chided. "I hate you" I seethed. "You're just hangry, here have a bite" he said placing a forkful of pasta in my mouth. "You do know how to cheer me up, Lancey" I hummed chewing on the food.

The dinner from last night made it on the tabloid, here, I am trying to woo Fernando and the tabloids are running a story of me and Lance. I think I might have to have a strongly worded letter with the said media houses.

Fernando seemed even more off than the last day; my jokes weren't landing, I couldn't even make him smile at this point. I found myself subconsciously chewing on my lower lip. "You're bleeding" Fernando said holding up a tissue to my lips. His fingers brushed past my lips and now sat on my chin as he added pressure to the wound. "What's got you so anxious?" Fernando asked. "Nothing" I shook my head. "Don't move, yet" Fernando reprimanded holding my head from the back in place with his other hand. I stood still, my brain running a 100 miles an hour, my eyes scanning his face which had creased in focus and his eyes laced with worry. He slowly moved his hand away to see the blood had stopped, I wish it hadn't. All I could think about was how maybe Fernando held your head as he kissed you aggressively.

Fernando left to talk to his engineers. I stood there staring at him until Lance came and closed my mouth. "You're drooling" he chided. "I mean how can I not? Look at him?" I chuckled. Lance just shook his head and walked away.

I spent the whole night formulating but I never came up with anything to at least peak Fernando's interest in me. None of my flirting was working.

I walked into the hospitality with my head down, it was Fernando who greeted me. "You don't look so good" he remarked. "Yeah, I didn't sleep much" I replied. "What's on your mind?" he asked. "Nothing, it's stupid" I brushed him off. "If it was that stupid why'd you stay up thinking about it?" Fernando quizzed. I felt so stupid and annoyed. Before I could open my mouth, Lance had come with a cup of coffee my saving grace. I moaned as I took a large sip from the cup. "You are the best" I said, warming my hands up against the cup. The weather had gotten colder due to the rain and the clothes I had worn were covered in a thin sheet of cold mist.

I watched them move about the hospitality get ready for the race, my eyes lingering on Fernando longer. I had only found out about him 3 days ago and right now, he was taking up an unprecedented amount of space in my head.

I tried to flirt with him as the day progressed but it seemed futile. He would brush me off or just laugh it off. I was starting to lose all hope. I lost all my hope at the end of the day when the team was packing up after the race. "You staying or leaving?" Lance asked. "I have a dinner date with your parents tomorrow and then I'll leave" I said. "Have fun" he remarked. "Aren't you coming too?" I asked. "Nope, I have plans" he said winking at me. I saw Fernando looking at me with sad eyes; I felt weird.

I was out at a bar finishing up my mocktail when I felt some one sit next to me. I turned around to find Fernando. "Hi" I greeted him with a smile. "I thought you were having dinner with Lance's family" Fernando pointed out. "Ah, that's tomorrow. I'm....free today" I said. Fernando seemed like he sighed a sigh of relief but I could be hallucinating. "I'll your finest wine and for the lady" he began now looking at me, "No, I'm good. I'll be leaving now" I said gathering my stuff. "huh....stay" he whispered in the moment the song changed.

I was shocked but I sat back down. "Why?" I asked. "You look like you don't want to be alone" he commented taking a sip of his wine. "I would like company, if I am being honest" I stated. "If you don't mind an old man's company, I'm here" he shrugged his shoulder. "You're not old and I would love your company" I smiled. "Did you drive here?" I asked. "No, taxi" he said. "Great! I'll have your finest champagne" I told the bartender. The two of us sat there enjoying each other's company.

After a while, we decided to exit the bar together; Fernando had called a cab and offered to drop me back. I'm not sure if it was the close proximity in the cab or the alcohol but when our fingers brushed I felt electricity course through me. I turned to see if he felt the same and he must've since he was staring at me. Without a second thought I crashed my lips against his. It took me a moment to realise but when I did, I suddenly pulled away, "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have done that" I mumbled trying to put as much distance between us. "I...I....I thought you liked Lance" he muttered. "What? Eww!! He's like a brother to me. I've been trying to flirt with you since I laid eyes on you" I explained. "Really?" He asked. "Oh My God, did you think I'm that friendly to everyone?" I retorted. "I don't know" he mumbled running a hand through his hair. "Don't you think it's weird since I'm so much older than you?" he asked. I just shrugged, "I don't really look at people's ages" He looked hesitant. "Fernando, I wanna go on a date with you, I wanna date you, I wanna be your girlfriend, maybe" I spoke loud and clear. His mouth opened and closed a few time, "It's okay, take your time. Can I have your number though?" I asked hopeful. He took my phone entered his number and as the taxi driver pulled up to my hotel, Fernando pulled me in for a kiss. "I'm not completely sure but I think I want to go out on a date with you too" he muttered with a smile. "I'll be in Spain next month, see you then" I whispered kissing his cheek and exiting the taxi.

[ak4e7a]

sweet sugar venom — PSH (teaser)

street racer!sunghoon x street racer! reader

"pick me up and take me like a vitamin, 'cause my body's sweet like sugar venom, hell yeah..."

"so alive, i could die, give me some sweet venom..."

cw: i honestly don’t know. mentions of cheating, violence, somewhat illegal street racing. there’s no dark content lol that’s all i’ll say otherwise i might spoil something

smut cw: daddy kink, brat tamer!hoon, brat!reader, unprotected sex, creampie, spanking, spitting, choking, dacryphilia, heavy aftercare <3 ... more tbd

thank you to @karinasbaby for the sexy ass banner ... stella ILYSM my baby doll for life

taglist: open! request to be tagged so you know when i finally drop this 😋

preview under the cut, let's get this show on the road.

“Hey, Y/N! Nice wrap,” Riki says, waving his long arms at you like he’s drowning. The tall, newly-turned 21-year-old bounds towards you before tackling you in a hug that sends you almost crashing into the ground, your hands flying to tug the hem of your skirt down lest your protective younger brother scold you about not dressing for the weather. It’s a cold spring night, as proven by Riki who’s in a loose, knitted navy blue sweater and destroyed light wash jeans.

“Jeez, Riki, I just saw you yesterday, no need to suffocate me,” you grumble affectionately, reaching up to muss his black-and-silver hair before sitting back down on the hood of your car. You’ve been fond of the boy since Jungwon brought him over one day, his first new friend since losing his best friend (and yours, honestly) in a betrayal that still hurts to speak of to this day. Riki clings onto you like you’re his older sister, too, and you reckon it probably has something to do with missing his own sister back home. “You saw me finish the wrap on the car, too.”

“Yeah, yeah, but it looks good even at night! Very professional. Maybe you can wrap the GTR next?” he says, to which you side-eye him, and he adds, “I can pay you.”

“You can pay for my meals every time we go out to eat for the next three months and I’ll call it even.”

He laughs. “Okay, deal. You eat less than Jungwon hyung, anyways.”

“Why are you talking shit about me to my sister again, freak?” your younger brother demands, making his way up to the small crowd that’s starting to form around you, Riki, and Jaeyun. He looks taller today, you think to yourself, and when he comes into full view, you see that he’s riding on the back of an unfamiliar person, a tall man with a sharp jawline and a pretty nose, whose bangs droop over his eyes. He’s wearing a white tank top and jeans, with a black and blue leather racing jacket covering his torso from the chilly Seoul air.

“Well, did I fucking lie?” Riki snaps back, arms crossed. You hide your laugh in the crook of your arm, eyes locking with the man who’s got your brother draped over his broad shoulders like a backpack. He looks at you intensely, in a way that makes you feel like he’s got x-ray vision or something. What’s his deal?

“Whatever, cricket legs.” Jungwon jumps off the man’s back, shaking his hair out of his eyes. You notice that he’s yet again stolen one of your oversized hoodies. “Oh, hyung! This is my sister, by the way. Noona, this is Sunghoon hyung. He’s joining Enigma.”

He’s cute, pretty, even, and you like that. You’ve always preferred pretty boys. And up until about five seconds ago, you would have said that—even though your ex-boyfriend is a cheating bastard who deserves nothing but suffering—he was still the prettiest man you’ve come across.

But this one, this one in front of you right now, this one takes the cake. He’s got full, thick brows that frame dark almond eyes, and his cheekbones flow into his jawline in a way that makes you think his face has probably stopped traffic at least once in his life. Before you stare at him for way too long, you reach into your purse and pull out one of your mango-flavored Hi-Chews (from your personal stash) to give him. “Hi, Sunghoon. Nice to meet you. Welcome to Enigma.”

He repeats his own version of your greeting a bit too curtly for your liking, but you don’t care either way, he’ll be under your thumb in no time, just like everyone else, just the way you like. Rolling the wrapped cube in his hand, he asks, “What’s this for?”

To which you reply, “Oh, nothing. I just like candy.”

“I feel like ‘like’ is an understatement,” Riki snorts, sticking his hand in your purse for something he can snack on. You sigh and hand him your purse for him to rummage around more freely.

Sunghoon raises an eyebrow at that, but turns to you anyways. “Do you race, too? I don’t want to assume or anything.”

You give him a coy smile, translucent bubblegum-pink-manicured fingernails clicking against the hood of your car as you drum your fingers against it. “Yeah, sometimes. I’m banned from racing right now, though, until the end of the season at least.”

He cocks his head like a curious puppy, blinking slowly at you. Oh, no. He’s cute and probably doesn’t know it, but he’s definitely dressed like he knows he’s hot. “Why’s that?”

Your smile turns into a smug smirk as you answer, “Because I go too fast.”

“Fourth-gen Supra,” he muses, glancing between your bare legs at the titanium Toyota emblem on the hood that you’d had imported from Japan. For some reason, you have to resist the urge to squeeze your thighs together. “Cute.”

“Oh? And what’s your ride?”

“Beamer M8 Comp,” Sunghoon says, an air of nonchalance about the answer like it’s nothing special. It kind of pisses you off.

[steddieas-shegoes]

congrats on 3000!!! 🎉🍾🎊💖

For the sentence prompt: "I'm just gonna go freak out for a minute first."

Thank you!!!! ♥️

➰➰➰➰➰➰➰➰➰➰➰➰

Steve was holding his hand while the doctor checked his stitches. It wasn’t really that weird for him to be holding his hand, not since he woke up half-dead in the hospital.

It was a little weird that he was rubbing his thumb against the side of his thumb, though.

And probably a little weird that his other hand was resting on his head, a weight that was comforting and confusing all at once.

“Looks great, Eddie. I’d say by the next visit, we’ll be able to get them out and let these finish healing naturally,” the doctor smiled at him as he pulled his shirt back down.

Steve’s hand squeezed his, and he couldn’t help looking over at the sunshine in the seat next to him.

It had to be pretty obvious how he felt about Steve. He’s lucky none of the kids have caught on and started teasing him yet.

Robin has, but at least she knows to do it privately.

“I’ll have the front desk schedule you for two weeks out. You can grab an appointment card on the way out. Keep them all clean and don’t do any heavy lifting or physical activity quite yet,” the doctor reminded as she pulled off her gloves and threw them in the trash. “You boys have a nice day.”

As she left the room, Steve helped Eddie sit up slowly. He didn’t really need the help anymore, but he’d be an idiot to admit it with how much Steve touched him.

“Two more weeks, Eds! That’s better than what they thought last time,” Steve was so excited for him. His smile was lighting up the room and he looked five seconds away from bouncing on his feet.

“Yeah, it’s great.”

“Aren’t you excited?” Steve’s smile dropped at Eddie’s tone.

“Yeah! Yeah, it’ll be great to have less limits. Might be able to get the guys together for a jam session,” Eddie gave a small smile.

“But…?”

Eddie sighed. “But then you won’t be around anymore, right? Like, other than when we all hang out on movie nights. You only stuck around because no one else could really help me every day. Everyone had work or families that wouldn’t let them out of their sight.”

Steve looked heartbroken, and Eddie couldn’t figure out why.

“Eddie, I’m not gonna leave you just because you don’t technically need me anymore,” Steve shook his head. “We’re- we’re friends, aren’t we?”

“Of course! I mean, I thought so. But I know it could just be that you feel bad and I wouldn’t expect you to stick around because of that.”

Steve grabbed his other hand, his grip tightening on Eddie’s skin almost painfully.

“I wanna stick around for a lot of reasons, Eds.”

Eddie was caught in his gaze, his wide, pleading eyes almost too much.

“Like what?”

“Like because you’re fun to be around. You’re funny and talented and smart. You taught me about Hobbits! Love those guys,” Steve stepped closer. “You’re brave and you care about all of us. You-“ Steve swallowed. “You see me. The real me.”

“What do you mean?” Eddie’s heart was racing as he looked between Steve’s eyes, down to his lips where his tongue had poked out momentarily to wet them.

“You’ve seen me when my parents have come home and made me feel like shit and you just distracted me with singing whatever pop songs are on the radio and helping me cook dinner. You’ve been there when I had a two day long migraine and couldn’t even stand up to go to the bathroom. You made grocery shopping fun! I fucking hate grocery shopping, but you just keep being silly and making me laugh and I had fun.” Steve leaned in so his forehead was touching Eddie’s. “You laugh at my jokes, even when they aren’t that funny. You listen to me when no one else pays attention. You see who I am and you let me be who I am and I don’t feel scared that you’ll run.”

“I’m not running.”

“I know. I love that you aren’t, that you won’t.” Steve closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them again, they were watery. “I love you.”

Eddie was certain he was dead. Maybe the last month had all been some coma-induced dream and they finally pulled the plug. Maybe he actually died in the Upside Down and the last month was his final goodbye to everyone in his own head.

He stood up slowly, trying not to push Steve away, but having to guide him away from the table he’d been laying on.

“Where are you going? You’re not leaving, right?”

“Nope. I’m just gonna go freak out for a minute first.”

“Um.”

Eddie smiled, leaned in to kiss Steve’s cheek, and pulled away.

“Give me a minute. This is either the most realistic dream I’ve ever had or the best day of my life.”

Steve snorted, but let him walk to the door and stand outside of it for a moment.

When Eddie came back in, his cheeks were red, but he looked determined.

He pulled Steve into him by his hips, crushed their lips together, and smiled so hard their teeth clacked against each other. It was a little messy for a first kiss, but they could get better.

“You love me? Really?”

“I thought it was obvious,” Steve laughed as they pulled apart.

“I thought I was obvious!”

“Not really. I was convinced I was imaging things! Robin had to explain to me what the hanky code was before I even believed you liked guys!”

They both laughed so hard they cried, forgetting entirely that they were still in the doctor’s examination room.

Someone knocked on the door and they broke apart quickly, trying to stop the laughter for a moment to deal with whoever was at the door.

A nurse poked her head in. “Sorry, don’t wanna rush you, but just wanted to make sure everything was okay? Did you need to see the doctor again?”

“No, no. Sorry. We’re heading out. He just needed a minute,” Steve said quickly, smiling back at her.

She nodded and left, leaving the door open as a silent reminder that they needed to disinfect the room for the next patient.

“Steve.”

“Yeah?”

“I love you, too.”

“You don’t have to say it just-“

“I’m not. I’m saying it because I love you. I see you, remember? There’s a lot there to love.”

Steve turned a bright red, and Eddie decided then he would do just about anything to see that shade on Steve’s cheeks and neck as often as possible.

“Let’s go home,” Steve finally said when he recovered. “Wanna kiss you more.”

“Can’t argue with that.”

[sundaycentric]

JING YUAN AND NEUV!!!!!

(I too am down horrendous for them)

(seperate) neuvillette & jing yuan x reader

content ★ headcanons, NOT PROOF READ!!, sfw, fluff

note ★ SO REAL!! i love them both sm its unreal.. anyways im just going to do some basic headcanons and drabbles bc im abt to go to a dance and i need something quick to post.. other requesters i am working on your stuff!!

NEUVILLETTE ★

He has no idea what it's like to be in a relationship. He has no experience whatsoever, besides for the in occasional movies Lady Furina will force him to watch with her.

Neuvillette isn't that dumb to take the movies as reality, though. So, he ends up just being a mess.

Before you start dating, Neuvillette will try to his best to hide his feelings. He often times pushes you away, but the sky darkens not soon after. He feels torn.

Neuvillette doesn't even understand his own emotions. He can barely process what he feels, let alone name it. He's confused and worried. He thinks it's love, but what if he isn't? He's never felt love to know what it's like.

It'd take some time for him to start working through his feelings. However, he still keeps his distance. He tries not to make it obvious he is avoiding you, but someone sees through him easily.

It doesn't take long for Lady Furina to find out what's happening, especially considering how observant she is to drama. She'll pester Neuvillette about it a bit, laughing at his reactions. Neuvillette tries to appear indifferent, but the sky's definitely different from what it was before.

For all her teasing, Lady Furina does genuinely care about Neuvillette (and you). She will offer some advice to Neuvillette, even though her experience in romance is just as limited as his. At least Lady Furina can work out her emotions, though.

Gradually, Neuvillette accepts your presence and allows him to take pleasure in it. A month ago, he was doing everything to stay out of your way, but now is he practically near you every time he can be.

He tries not to talk to you too much, though. He gets flustered. Although you might not be able to see it on his face, you might notice the sky becoming brighter—way brighter than normal when you talk to him.

He will never confess first. Well, unless he felt like he had to to avoid loosing you. Other that that scenario, though, he will keep quiet until you say something

Once you do say something and confess your feelings to him, Neuvillette will be so happy. His face might be a little smile, but there is no rain for entire week and lot's of people are getting sunburnt..

He will try his best to keep you happy. Neuvillette is very big on communication since he doesn't always understand what you feel. He does try though.

Neuvillette still doesn't talk much about himself. Instead, he prefers to listen to you. Even the small, mundane things you did during your day put a smile on his face.

Overall, he is very kind and considerate. Maybe even too much. He's scared of hurting you or pushing you away because of how he is. That hasn't happened yet, though. :)

JING YUAN ★

He definitely knows what he is doing. He's had some experience in the past, both watching and doing. Although, it is different when it comes to you.

Jing Yuan took interest in you. He was curious. Why? He doesn't know himself. He just likes you presence. You remind him of his finches, maybe even lion sometimes.

He learns as much as he can about you without being seen as creepy. He'll pay attention attention to you at events or when he is in public. When he catches you staring at him, he feels warm.

Eventually, he begins to come up to you. Jing Yuan prefers to take things slow, and really wants to come up with some sort of strategy to win your heart. It's a bit hard, though. He doesn't want to manipulate you, you aren't his enemy.

Jing Yuan tries to keep things in his control, both so he can spend as much time with you possible and just because he likes it. He will pay for your lunches, buy you things you like, pay for your trips. Jing Yuan has enough money, and he is willing to spend it all if you ask for it.

He'll slowly try to become closer with you. He doesn't want to push you away. After all, Jing Yuan has all the time in the world to wait for you. He only hopes you'll actually go to him.

Jing Yuan seems more unfocused at work now. He is usually not paying attention anyways (as he is sleeping), but it's becoming a bit worse now. Lady Fu catches on quick and reprimands him.

Jing Yuan, in his tired state, tries to excuse himself before Lady Fu gets angrier. He ends up slipping and saying your name. The two of them stare at each other before Fu Xuan starts scolding him again.

Fu Xuan is mad at Jing Yuan, yes, but she cannot deny that she cares about Jing Yuan. So, she might peek into the future to see if the two of you are together. She refuses to tell Jing Yuan what she sees, but she smiles as soon as he leaves.

Jing Yuan may be first to confess. He is fine with either. In the case that he confesses, he'll laugh at the way your face lights up. If you confess first, he'll find it funny how you seem a bit unsure of yourself.

He will reassure you with a kiss on the cheek before telling you that he loves you. Jing Yuan will hug you tightly while he sleeps and take care of anything you need.

He is like a teddy bear. :)

He is attentive, and he always knows what you're feeling. He might tease you sometimes, but he is ultimately very sweet and protective over you.

Yanqing definitely looks up to you as another parental figure. Good luck with that.

Overall, very nice to sleep on. He'll take care of everything he can for you and treat you like a precious gem.

[freyito]

ᴛʀɪᴄᴋ ᴏʀ ᴛʀᴇᴀᴛ! ⨟ ɪᴅɪᴀ ꜱʜʀᴏᴜᴅ

✭ pairing(s): idia shroud x gn reader

✩ in which: he celebrates halloween with you.

✧ a/n: i got attached to this Guy overnight and i need to take a bite out of him. Anyways!

✦ taglist: @shinysora

→ trick or treat masterlist

🗒 cw: gn reader, just fluff :P, maybe a little ooc? (havent read ignihyde's chapter yet ((so many idia vignettes tho)), not proofread

✎ wc: 677

Trick

Well, for one, Idia is absolutely, positively, against any party whatsoever. He’s not here for the hype week, he’s in it for the candy and showing off his cosplay skills. As such, unless you are in his room at all times, he kind of sucks at communication during Halloween Season. Which means unless you want some alone time (or he kicks you out), you’re bunking with him quite a bit. No matter how much he protests.

You might get dragged into his games, especially with their Halloween events. If even one of them has a co-op or invitation event, you’re pushed into making a new account or joining him. And you must, at least, run dungeons with him 10 times a day. He has to stay at the top of rankings somehow! And you’re his key to that, one that he’s not necessarily willing to give up, either.

He also tends to buy extra candy. What, to give away? No! He’s hoarding this stuff like a dragon and it’s pile of gold. Sure, he’ll give you some, but if he has to play nice, he’s doubling his pay. In gummy worms. Oh, and he gatekeeps any gummies from other people. Not you, of course, you can take as much as you want (as long as you leave him some of the blue raspberry or cherry flavored ones). But, this leads to an excess of candy bags just… chilling in his room now. Not that he tosses them wherever he wants, he has a carefully crafted system, you know. But sometimes there is something known as too much candy.

Treat

Despite all of that, isn’t Idia the best person to hang out with during Halloween? With all his dedication to his costume, it comes out genuinely wonderful. He spent most of his time working on the finer details, one of the truest adaptations of… which character was it again? You’ve heard so much of this character that it feels like your brain has fizzled out. Regardless, his costume is still amazing, you’re a little jealous. And you’re sure you’ll hear much more about the character, and you’ll be subjected to watching the show regardless. Not that you mind.

You are in for a nice and cozy night, however. After the parade is done and Idia’s social battery is thoroughly drained, all he wants to do is either sleep (which he can’t because he’s gorged himself on candy), or finish up the events on his games to make sure he stays at the top of the rankings. Once he’s finally free of his costume (after about an hour…), he takes a couple of minutes in your arms, laying on top of you like a massive pillow, while he mutters something about his costume and what not. After about half an hour, he’s up and at ‘em, back at his game. Perhaps he’s realized how he’s neglected you over the month, and so he does his best to include you in his gametime, whether you choose to play with him, or simply sit on his bed and listen to what he has to say.

Before the sugar wears off, Idia is suddenly cramming in a last minute grind session, hopping from server to server to kill the event’s boss as the minutes tick down. Even as he’s fighting sleep, he’s kicking monster ass and topping the rankings. You can feel yourself slipping into sleep until he jolts you awake with a loud “YEEESSS!”. Almost immediately after that leaves his mouth, he’s apologizing profusely to you in a soft voice, completely forgetting about his game and slinking over with his hands out like he was calming down a scared horse.

With his win secured, he slips into bed easily. Which is earlier then he usually falls asleep, about a couple more hours before. But he’s won top ranking player during almost every event for three years in a row, and perhaps it’s time to celebrate (by sleeping early– and sleeping in even later), and also apologize for waking you up so abruptly.

© freyito, 2024 | masterlist | queue | kofi | discord server | star header by roseschoices DO NOT REPOST AS YOUR OWN, REPOST ON ANY OTHER PLATFORM, OR USE FOR AI/AI CHATBOTS.

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

Hear the lonely cry out

requested: for some azriel angst, maybe the reader getting pregnant but not telling az (for justifiable reasons ofc), and az only finds out later on and angst ensues?

a/n kind of feel like this might be the saddest thing I've ever written. I hurt myself while writing this so now it's your turn. So that's that...

warning: neglect, fighting, pains associated with pregnancy, nausea, mention of possibility of loosing a child and just suffering.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

"Baby, you need to sleep," you said, running your hands down your lover's shoulders. Azriel had been sitting in that chair for hours, going through the information his spies had gathered for their master. He didn't even come down to eat, nor did he eat the food that you brought up for him. You knew him well enough to know that when court responsibilities got this serious, reaching him was practically impossible. 

"I'll be there in a couple of minutes. You can go up, love," the spymaster said, catching your hand in his and bringing it to his lips, yet his eyes didn't lose focus on the paper he held in his hands. You knew it was a lie. He wouldn't be there for at least a couple more hours, maybe till the sun started to peak over the mountains. Get an hour of sleep, and then be off for a day of meetings.

Leaning in, you pressed a kiss to the side of his face before you turned to go. You've had conversations about his workload more than once. And gods forbid you weren't the one to complain. Azriel was an extremely attentive lover. He remembered the things you told him. Listen to what you have to say. He treated you well, and for the most part, you genuinely had nothing to complain about. It was those busy weeks that would turn into months that would make you feel like you didn't have a partner. Make your heart sting just a little.

Instead of going to the bedroom, you made your way back into the kitchen for some tea. For the past couple of days, you have been feeling rather odd. You didn't feel all that sick; it was more like an overall unpleasant feeling that you just couldn't shake off. But if you were being honest, you didn't pay it too much attention considering the little cramping in your lower stomach. And knowing your not-so-regular cycle, you wouldn't be too surprised if, due to the stress, it decided to knock on your door earlier.

Your gaze was drawn to the dining table, and a smile formed on your lips. When you moved here, Azriel had taken it upon himself to redo all the wooden furniture. The oak table was your mating anniversary gift. You had never seen a table so intricately carved with different ornaments of leaves and flowers. But still, what made your heart clench the most were the two letters carved into it. The first letters of your and Azriel's names. "We can add our kids' names as our family grows," he told you then, while you sobbed in his arms, snot everywhere since he had taken you so by surprise.

"Are you mad at me?", you felt two arms slip around your lower stomach, making you jump slightly. "Why would I be handsome?", you questioned, leaning more into your lover's embrace. "Just felt multiple strokes of discomfort coming from your side of your bond", you frowned at that. You were trying to keep your emotions somewhat hidden from him when he was so busy. The fewer distractions, the better.

Turning into Azriel's embrace, you wrapped your arms around his torso. Selfishly enjoying the moment of having him so close to you. "I'm fine, just crampy. I have a daunting feeling that my cycle is close," you huffed, and Azriel hummed in response. "Should I run you a bath?", but you just shook your head, knowing well that the longer you keep him here, the longer he will spend in the study. "I'll make some tea and go curl up in the bed under five blankets. You finish your work and come cuddle," you pouted your lips at him, earning a chuckle from the spymaster as he leaned in to kiss you twice. Even if it wasn't much. Just a few feathery kisses made your heart skip a beat. "I won't be long tonight, I promise," Azriel whispered to you before kissing you one last time.

You ended up falling asleep on your own last night, and it wasn't that big of a surprise when you woke up to a cold and empty bed as well. You quickly shut down your end of the bond before allowing a wave of sadness to wash over you as your mind wandered off. Wondering when was the last time you woke up with Azriel still in your bed? But as you turned to lie on your side, your stomach suddenly rumbled, and the next thing you know, you were up and rushing to the bathroom. Barely making it to the toilet as the food from last night made its way out. The sensation brought tears to your eyes as you tried to hold your hair out of the way.

Once the feeling subsided, you let your head slip down onto the hand that gripped the side of the toilet. Mother, the last thing you needed was a complicated cycle. Especially since you had no one to look after you and you were not going to tell Azriel about it. There was no way. So pretending everything was fine would be the next burden in your path.

You only managed to drag yourself out and get somewhat ready quite sometime later. You promised to help Nesta clean up alongside Feyre. She was now heavily pregnant. The babe was a surprise for both of the mates. Cassian had spent a whole day crying with excitement, and Nesta's fears of being a bad mother had died with every day that passed. At least it seemed like it. They seemed so happy, and it was a dream knowing that the inner circle was growing. Not to mention that Nyx was over the moon that he would get a friend soon. With a quick stop at the bakery, you make your way toward your friend's house. The cooler morning breeze soothed your nausea and made you feel way perkier than before. It was exactly what you needed—some time with the girls.

 Your mood almost immediately picked up as everyone laughed while folding the baby close together. "I'm telling you. I've been catching him doing breathing techniques and muttering all sorts of motivational stuff", Nesta laughed, hand on her tummy as you all gossiped about Cassian and the father mode he had entered. "Imagine hearing a - push Nes push at two in the morning", you three snickered, "That's pretty much how it goes", Nes wiped away the tears that came from laughing quickly. You were still grinning as you stood up with a basket in your hands when everything blurred. You swayed slightly to one side. Pressing your eyes shut tightly before blinking quickly a couple of times, hoping that the fog would clear up.

"Darling," Fayra said as she wrapped her arms around you, fanning you with her hand. "Reach out for Az," Nesta said worryingly, her hands holding onto you now. "No, no Azriel", you said sharply. Quickly giving both of the females a death-like look, "No one is telling him anything." Both of them looked into your pleading eyes with nothing but concern. It was unlike you to deny the presence of your mate. "But lo-", "I said no. It's nothing, just my cycle; I've been feeling weird." The two sisters shared a look. Not believing you but then again fea cycles were no joke. It took women out like the plague. With no strength to move. The list of symptoms was enormous. Yet something about this didn't seem right. Feyre handed you a cup of water. "Maybe you still seek out Madja on your way home?", the high lady asked gently. "That's unnecessary...", "Please, it would give me peace of mind," Nesta said, and you weren't about to put more stress on a pregnant woman. So you nodded your head at her, smiling ever so slightly so you could reassure her.

You softly knocked on the clinic's door, and Madja wiped it open almost in an instant. "It's nothing serious," you started, but she was already guiding you toward the bed. She asked you a question here and there, but for the most part, you could tell that she already knew everything you had told the girls. Meaning Feyre had already informed her of everything.

"Well, lay down, dear," the healer whispered, guiding her hands over your body. A fond smile spread over her face almost immediately. "This year is a blessed one. I'll need to go to the temple and give an offering to the mother," she muttered in excitement. You gave the healer a puzzled look, but her soft hand only moved to touch your cheek, saying softly, "You're with a child, girl." For a moment, you felt like you had slipped into a different universe. Hovering somewhere between the stars and the solid ground. Your head started to spin just like it did before, the sickening feeling once again increasing.

"It can't be, it's... I'm starting a cycle," she said, but Madja only shook her head, "It's early days, but you are carrying a strong babe, dear." Your eyes still searched, waiting for her to burst out laughing and tell you that she was just joking. "Why is the face like that? A child is a blessing, and Azriel, my boy... oh, he'll be so happy," you thickly swallowed at the sound of your mate's name. Oh, gods, how were you going to tell him, and when? Could you just tell him now? Should you? But this would be such a distraction. What if he thinks it's just an additional burden? You quickly pull yourself together as Madja continues to speak again, going through the appointments she would like to have and packing you all sorts of stuff to take home for nausea and aches.

You stop at the side of Sidra on your way back. Needing to clear out your fuzzy head. Put thousands in the right place. You hated the fact that this didn't at all feel as you had imagined. And Mother forbid, you were so happy. Not many get blessed with a baby. Couples grew mad while trying to conceive. But it felt like such bad timing. Azriel was not in the right mindset for this. Or maybe this was exactly what he needed? Someone or something to focus his attention on.

Your hand slips onto your still flat stomach, only slightly bloated, but that was just the impact of the food you had eaten today. "What will we do, my little joy? How do we tell dad?", you whispered into the light evening breeze. The conversation you had about kids playing on and on in your head. You knew that Azriel wanted them. He wanted a family of his own, and there had been times you caught him with his hand on your stomach after a particularly rowdy session of sex, "In case we created something. Need them to feel a warm fatherly touch from the start," he would say, leaning in closer to snuggle into you. He wanted this a lot. You even found sketches of the little crib he was making. Azriel hadn't told you about it, and you didn't ask, of course, but he wanted to have a child. He wanted it before his overworked brain turned on.

However, the moment you stepped foot into your shared home, you could practically feel the lingering essence of anger all over the place. Azriel's back was toward you. He was sitting on the sofa, one leg bouncing up and down, and he was so lost in his thoughts that he doesn't even hear you coming in. "Sweet, did something happen?", you asked carefully, Azriel's tired eyes shooting up to meet you as he let out a frustrated huff. "It's all shit," Azriel snarled, "They screwed up the entire mission, and I warned Rhys. I fucking warned him." As your mate stood up to pace the room, you flinched slightly at the sound of his loud voice. 

"Now I have to go there and try to fix this. I don't have time for that," the spymaster continued, visibly growing more and more frustrated. "Can you ask someone to go instead?", you tried to send loving strokes of support down the bond, but you were met with nothing in return, nor did it seem to do anything. "Who You fancy a trip?", Azriel barked back, and you quickly bit the inside of your cheek so your eyes wouldn't fill up with tears as you shook your head no. Well, here went your plan to tell him over a sweet dinner together that you wanted to cook. If you mentioned a child, this would be a tragedy, so you bit your tongue. Promising yourself to stay silent.

"How about I make you some food, and while you eat, I'll pack up your stuff and get everything ready?", you asked softly, trying to at least get his emotions somewhat in check. "It'll take at least something off your shoulders. Even if it's insignificant," you murmured at the end. And usually, Azriel is good at picking up on your emotions from the tone of your voice, but tonight it seemed like he either didn't hear it or didn't want to hear it.

Azriel stayed still for a moment, but then he softly nodded his head, "I'll do some work in the study in the meantime." You gave him a light smile. He did step closer to you, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. And the fact that he had lingered there for a moment gave you hope that he might have sensed you, that he considered staying. But he moved past you, his hand lightly grazing your tummy, but he doesn't stop in his tracks. If only you knew, you thought to yourself, if only you knew that that's where your child is growing now. What a difference it would make if you knew...

He doesn't come to eat, and he once again doesn't eat what you bring to him. You pack his stuff up, and you can't help but feel like you are just packing his way out of your life. The shadow singer leaves in the middle of the night. You're not asleep yet, and you don't turn to face him. You hear the sound of his clothes ruffling as he gets dressed. You don't even know how long he will be away or where he is going. Closing your eyes just as he walks to your side, leaning in to press a couple of kisses to your forehead. And with that, he's gone. 

You wait a moment longer until you're fully sure that he was not coming back before you let your eyes fill up with tears. A painful sob slipped past your lips as you clench your finger around the sheets. Cry your heart out into the darkness of the night.

At first, you felt utterly alone. Having to run to the bathroom every morning and well into the day as you gagged with your face hovering over the toilet. Needing to drag yourself to make food. You didn't care that much for yourself, and if not for the baby, you would have probably just spent your days in bed without moving. But then it struck you. You weren't alone. You were never alone. You always had your baby with you. With every step you took, a little joy was always there. Warming your weeping heart. Azriel reached out through the bond while he was away. And because you didn't want him to go flying home, you listened to him speak. Letting his voice slip into nothingness as the words went through you and out. You ignored everyone in your family. Saying that you had caught something and didn't want to get any of the kids sick. So the best decision was to stay away.

You were sitting with a big blanket over your body, eyes gazing at the fire when the front door suddenly opened. You had felt this was going to happen considering that for the past couple of days, you had completely shut off the bond. "Take that off," Azriel said, his voice shaking as he stepped through the living room, making his way to you. Looking like nothing but a frightened animal in the woods.

"Azriel," you spoke weakly, your hallow eyes turning his way, and you just hoped that he would drop it. "Take it off," he yanked at the blanket's side, reaching for your arms to get you to stand. So you did, letting the material crumble to the floor. The spymaster's mouth gaped at the sight of you. At the sight of your bump, which had become more visible. Even if it wasn't all that big yet. "You're..." the male trailed off. Chest falling and rising rapidly. "I am, yes. I am pregnant," you said coldly, as you walked past him and into the kitchen. Azriel just shook his head, turning your way, "Why did you... when did you find out?" His steps followed right behind you. You debate over your answer. The pain stings your chest.

"Before you left", "And said nothing?", his voice grew louder, and you slammed your cup down on the counter. "Don't you dare! You were boiling with rage that night," you said, firmly pointing your finger at him. "That's not a good enough excuse," he muttered under his breath, and your blood filled with so much rage. So much anger was pushed away. "You are unbelievable... I've been neglected by you for weeks like some dirty foot rag. You enjoyed just wiping your shit at me, didn't you?", you shouted at him now. You didn't seem to mind that you'd never done that before.

"What the fuck are you on about?", Azriel barked back, leaning closer to you. "You and your work. Are you sure you shouldn't be mated to your papers?", you spat his way, moving to push past him, but Azriel gripped your hand firmly, making you stop in your tracks. "Don't start with this shit again", "I will start because ahh...", you leaned forward, hand coming to your bump as the pain shoots through you. Azriel's grip on your hand loosens as he moved to wrap his arm over you, but you coldly push it away. Gritting your teeth. Until another pain shoots through you, a much louder cry slipping past your lips, and you have no other option but to let your mate lift you as he carried you to the sofa.

"Love, talk to me, what is it?", his worried eyes sought you out. "It hurts," and you try to take deep breaths in and calm your heart down. Fighting like this. All of these emotions at once were not what your body needed. Not what you needed. You were so tired. You didn't have it in you to deal with this. And it's not even a couple of minutes later that the door opens and Madja rushes in accompanied by Rhys.

Azriel is being pushed out of the room. Your teary eyes, hands gripping the bump, a bump that he hasn't even touched yet, the last thing he sees before the doors are closed right in front of him. A small bump that carries his child. And it all comes crashing down. It's him. It's him. He's the problem. He's the one who caused this. The darkest scenarios cloud his mind, and he's about to march back in, but Rhys is in his way instantly.

"Move, Rhys, move!", the spymaster wept as he tried to reach for the door handle. "Azriel, it's not the right time", "Rhysand, don't test me; there's my mate and my child there. I need to know if they are okay," Azriel roared, trying to somehow find a way to feel you through the bond, but there was nothing but coldness there. "Don't cause a scene. Let her be checked and calm down," the high lord tried to say calmly, but anxiousness was inevitable on his face. "If she.. if I", the images of his father fill Azriel's mind. His mother being pushed around. Whimpering as his father yelled at her. Her cries were all he could hear at night, and she was nothing but lonely and scared. Alone. You've been alone through all of this. You've made up your mind to keep it from him. To keep his baby away from him. Because he wasn't worthy. He was nothing better than a piece of trash. He wasn't any better than his father. Worse, perhaps.

The time seemed to slow down; it feels like years as Azriel stands there. Hoping that he had at least done something good in his five hundred years of existence that would be enough to buy the gift of keeping you both safe. When Madja walks out the door, Azriel practically falls to his knees. "She's okay; both of them are. I've got her to sleep," her words set the tears flowing down Azriel's cheeks, "She's distressed and hasn't been drinking or eating enough."

He walked inside as quietly as he could. The sight of you curled up on the bed both warmed and broke the spymaster's heart. The male debated whether he should just leave you here or carry you up to your bed. Carefully, Azriel ran his hand over your head before scooping you up in his arms. The sofa, no matter how comfortable it was, would most likely leave your back sore, and the shadow singer had a feeling you already had those pains as it was. Once you were tucked in between your sheets and Azriel had sat and watched you for an hour, he went back downstairs. Cleaning up the place as he went along, washing up the dishes, and sorting out the trash. Started making some soup as well. All the little things. Small things he realized he hadn't done in what seemed like an eternity.

You woke up sometime later. Feeling much more refreshed yet slightly dissociated. The window was narrowly open, letting just the right amount of fresh air flow into the room. The pitcher with water was nestled against the side of your nightstand. You reached for the glass, only now realizing just how thirsty you were. Taking a couple of dried fruits and nuts from the bowl as you swing your legs over the edge. The heavy feeling in your chest still lingered, yet you threw on one of Azriel's sweaters before you went downstairs. His scent instantly relieves some of the tension in your body. Azriel was lost in his head again. Stirring whatever he was cooking in that pot so viscously that you almost felt sorry for both the pot and the spoon.

"That smells nice," to the sound of your voice Azriel practically threw the spoon as he rushed to you and asked, "What are you doing up? You need to be laying in bed", his arms were hooked under your legs in an instant as he carried you back to the sofa. "Azriel, I can walk", "Madja said you need to take it easy for a couple of days. Are you in pain now? Do you need anything? Are you craving something? Because I can...", your head was starting to spin again from the number of questions he managed to cramp in the space of one breath. Placing your palm on his, you squeezed it gently.

"Calm down," you mumbled, watching as your mate practically started hyperventilating right beside you. "I don't deserve you. You shouldn't be speaking to me now. You shouldn't be speaking to me ever again," he blurted out, his eyes glossing over with tears. "Love," you tried to interfere, but Azriel only shook his head. "I've failed you. I'm no better than my father. You deserve so much more. I've failed my kid, and the baby isn't even born yet. You shouldn't even tell them that I'm their father", you crooked your head to the side, watching Azriel self-sabotaging himself once again. "You're talking nonsense now. They will know that you are the father, and you will be here by their side as they grow up," you said firmly, sitting up so you could reach for Azrie's face. Gently turning it towards you so his eyes would be on you as you spoke.

"Am I upset with you? Very much so. But I will always choose you. It will always be you, Azriel. I just can't be... I won't be... We won't be a second option," moving closer, Azriel rested his forehead on yours. "You were never a second option. I just... I get so scared sometimes. Your love, it overwhelms me," the spymaster said, his brows furrowed. "It's been years, and I still tell myself that the cauldron made a mistake. I'm not good enough for you; we are not equal. You are so much more than me", "Azriel, you get in your ways with thoughts like that", you mutter, pulling away slightly, so you could see his face better. "You need to realize that you are not the same little boy locked up in the basement. You made it out of there. So live, my love. Don't rob yourself of the happiness you deserve", Azriel's bottom lip quivered before tears started rolling down his cheeks once again. You give him a sad look before pulling him closer to yourself, "Let it all out, my love. You've pushed yourself too much," you said, running your fingers through his already messy hair as you tried to soothe the cries that escaped his lips.

"Give me your hand", you nudged his arms slightly, taking it into your much smaller one. Guiding it under your sweater, Azriel's sweater, "Calm your breathing and listen to this," you said calmly, keeping your hand on top of his. Even the fact that his palm got to rest on the swell of your stomach made him let out yet another cry. But his ears picked up on something else. A tiny little heartbeat. Tiny but so strong. As if it was screaming from the inside of your tummy at it's parents about just how much it wanted to be there and grow. Azriel pulled back to look at you, eyes wide now that he could feel the life growing inside you. "Our baby...", the spymaster mumbled, and you let a tear slide down your cheek, "Yes, our little joy", "I love you", he muttered, leaning in to pack your lips softly before he moved down, lifting the knitted fabric. "And I love you," Azriel said, running his hand over your bump carefully before pressing a kiss on your skin. "I love you. I love you. I love you," he repeated over and over. You watched your mate with a fond smile, finally feeling somewhat content. Finally feeling the other side of the bond flourishing, no longer cold and unwelcoming.

[anundyingfidelity]

BLIND COLORS — Dean Winchester

Summary: Dean finally makes a confession, but you don't feel the same way.

Pairing: Dean x female!asexual reader.

Word count: 1k.

Notes: this is part of @artyandink Jensen's drabble marathon. 🫶 as an ace girl I think it was good to start with an ace reader as well, I don't know if someone has wrote about this before but I just wanted to do it. This is based on my own personal experience as an ace and how I feel and see it, we're kind of ignored everywhere so just trying to make us more visible I guess? Hope I did it justice anyway and happy pride month to everyone! <3

GEN MASTERLIST!

If you’d like to be added, the taglist is here!

☕ if you like my writing, support me with a ko-fi !

There has been an unresolved tension between you and Dean. The only problem was that you didn't really notice that. But Sam, on the other hand, did, and he was wondering if you would ever realize how attracted to you his brother was.

It was just a case, like any other, that you were working on together. A poltergeist that had appeared in a small town you were driving near by and of course, you had to stop before at least you got home. The same things as always happening: going undercover, interviewing any witnesses, getting clues, reading some old stuff, calling Bobby for help...

So you found yourself invested on research with the Winchesters in complete, utter silence in their motel room. It was already dark and you had no dinner yet. You heard Sam turning off his laptop and getting up the couch until he walked towards you and Dean, sitting in the dinning table reading and marking stuff in old documents.

"It's late already, I'll go grab something to eat," Sam said, looking at you and then turning his gaze to his brother for more than a couple of seconds.

Dean shifted in his seat, realizing he had to be alone with you. Again.

During the past few weeks, Dean had been thinking on how to confess his feelings for you, and Sam was actually encouraging him to do it whenever it was fit. You were pretty chill with cases, even the difficult ones, and this was just another job for you. A love confession wouldn't harm, would it?

Thing was that Dean didn't want to ruin your friendship, and you seemed too naive to understand the subtext between his attempts at hitting on you and constant flirting, or the way he would remark suggestive things. You just laughed back at him and continued with your life, and maybe he had to do something.

He cleared his throat after his chain of thoughts, staring at you for a moment and then going back to Sam. "A cheese hamburger will work for me."

"I think a sandwich is good," you said. "Thanks."

"Alright, I'll be back soon," Sam announced and he gave a last glance at his brother, communicating in a way they only knew.

As always, you didn't pay attention to what was going on, instead, you went back to mark something in your notebook while checking an old file. Sam left the room and you were alone with Dean. Quickly, you were so invested on your notes that he began to think it was a bad idea. But he had to try.

"Hey, can I talk to you about something?" Dean asked. You lifted up your gaze to see him.

"Go ahead."

He shifted uncomfortably, but smiled nonetheless and pursed his lips in a tight line before speaking.

"I, uhm, I feel that I have to tell you that... I like you. Like a lot, a damn lot. We've known each other for years, and I- I don't know, it just happened. I'm very attracted to you and been trying to find a way for you to notice that, but I guess I might just have to tell you straight away."

The whole time his voice was calm and soft, and you found yourself looking directly into his deep, green eyes as he confessed. And then, you actually noticed the change in Dean. He stopped hooking with random women in bars, stopped flirting with them in front of you, and instead, he would flirt with you and then remark sexual stuff. But you didn't see him that way, at least not the sex part. For you, it was almost irrelevant, even though Dean was a very handsome man you just couldn't bring yourself to feel sexually attracted to him, nor anyone.

"Dean, I like you but... Is not like that for me," you said in a whisper.

He blinked a couple of times as his softened eyes remained on yours. "What do you mean?"

"I'm not... I'm not sexually attracted to you. Or anyone, is just- I don't know how to explain it, but sex isn't everything to me. I just don't get to feel it," you began, but afraid he might judge you, you continued. "Is like I'm blind to a color, I can't see it. I can't see the point on that, and I cannot give it to you if that's what you're looking for."

Dean had a look on his face you couldn't decode. You knew he wasn't probably used to being turned down, but it was the truth. You never really fit into that. He finally gave a nod, slowly with a soft smile.

"Okay, I understand that. I just wanted you to know, I'm sorry, I didn't want to mess up our friendship."

"You didn't, trust me. I think you're the first person to not judge what I feel anyway," you said, smiling as well but looking away.

"Why would I do that? It's your choice, I mean, is perfectly fine."

"It's not really a choice for me, you know, I can't feel it. Really, it never has grown in me, and a lot of people have judged me for that... I don't need to find the right person to feel like a complete woman, is just who I am and that's alright."

Dean smiled more for himself this time. That was the reason he liked you so much. You didn't give a crap about anything and you were just you, and he loved that from you.

"I understand that. You being you is what has drawn me to you," he said and you chuckled softly. Even when you turned him down, he would still try. "I'd like to know more about it, if it's okay."

"You'd like to?" you asked with a playful voice, and sounding surprised. "Really?"

He shrugged. "I've met gays, lesbians, trans people who are great... What's with understanding one more?"

"Right," you nodded. "We don't really fit the norm, do we?"

"You don't have to. I told you, I like you like this," he said, proudly.

There was a heat covering your cheeks at how he looked at you. Maybe you didn't experience a physical attraction in regard to sex, but how about falling in love with someone? You had such a long time without letting your feelings flourish.

"Thank you, I like you a lot too."

Dean taglist (some of them I can't tag them sorry :/)

@thesilmarillionblog

@onlyangel-444

@daisy-the-quake

@jackles010378

@cassieriddle713

@deans-spinster-witch

@feyresqueen

@drasticemotions

@stoneyggirl2

@sapnaploves

[bonny-kookoo]

Jungkook

𝐔𝐍𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐁𝐋𝐄 | Hide Me

Wrong place, wrong time, wrong everything. And yet, maybe it's not as bad as you thought.

Tags/Warnings: Alien!Jungkook, Human!Reader, Angst, injury, medical things such as needles, mentions of potential murder

Length: ~2k words

A/N: T H E R E I S N O T A G L I S T-

-> Masterlist

⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──👽── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅

Okay, your plan might not work the way you'd hoped after all.

You'd wanted to just get away from earth for a while now- with the intergalactic union basically punishing the whole human race for ruining planet earth, by taking away any humans from leading positions in the government, and by entirely changing the law system across the globe.

But down the line, money seems to be enticing even for people from outer space- and so the humans with the most of it had stayed in their roles, corrupting the system even more these days.

You don't want to be here to watch everything inevitably crumble.

What you didn't really plan for had been the drunk guy robbing you just half an hour before you were supposed to go to the port where the interstellar cargo ships would soon get ready to fly out to other planets to trade produce and other food products. But really, you can't pay much attention to your own injury, because otherwise you'll miss your chance entirely.

And considering they only fly out once every two to three months, you really don't wanna miss this.

So you go through with your plan despite your blurry mind- hunger and your injury by now having definitely made things more and more difficult to handle. You mostly trust into your instincts at the moment, unsure if you could really pay attention to anything out of the ordinary in order to check your plan- but maybe you should've.

Because now that the heavy steel doors close, and the ship starts to rumble, engines starting, you realize that your environment isn't what you'd expected to find as you lift the heavy tarp from over your head a little.

It doesn't make sense.

The interior, now that you look at it, looks nothing like the cargo ship from Heza that you had been supposed to be boarding. There's also been almost no security, no other staff around, no guards or even workers seen anywhere.

Everything is metal, a bit bent and busted here and there but still good and well taken care of. The model of the ship must be the same as the one from Heza -

But this is absolutely not the ship you thought you were sneaking into.

This is bad.

It's the worst, in fact, considering your still throbbing and probably bleeding wound, which had also not been part of the plan. The shaking of the ship finally subsides, a calm buzz and steady vibrations instead filling the space, your ears feeling strangely pressurized, something that subsides after moving your jaw a little. You know what this must mean.

You're no longer on earth.

Well, this is a problem now. You don't know where the hell this person is traveling to, let alone who owns the ship in the first place. For all you know, it could have no pilot at all, flying on pure autopilot which would at least make you feel a bit easier knowing that only actual cargo ships fly predetermined routes like that.

You feel like you're gonna throw up. Your stomach is so empty that your throat is closing up, or at least that's what it feels like. And considering this isn't a Heza ship, there will probably be nothing edible here at all.

And suddenly, there's a rumbling noise, metal scraping on the floor as the pressurized doors open, causing you to hide under the thick plastic coverings again, hoping, praying no one finds you. Boots click on the floor, and you hear chains hitting each other in high pitched noises, leather squeaking a bit and then-

You hear plastic being lifted. Whoever is currently here is aware that you're not supposed to be here. That something's off, not quite right. They're searching for something.

Someone.

You hold your breath as if that's gonna help you at all, but you know it won't. The steps echo closer, closer, closer, plastic tarp being lifted and placed back over and over again around you. And suddenly, the tarp you're underneath lifts as well, and you're sure you're visibly shaking, especially when something cold hits the back of your head.

A gun, for sure.

"You got one try." A male voice states, the click of the gun heard and felt against your scalp and oh God, you're gonna pass out, either from blood loss, hunger, or the fact that there's someone pointing a fucking gun at you-

"Give me one reason why I shouldn't shoot you through the airlock right now."

Well, fuck.

You think hard, unsure what to really tell him- you don't even know if he's human or not, can't catch a glimpse of him considering he'll probably shoot you right away if you were to try, so you can't adjust your answer according to his race either. So, really, what do you have to lose now?

You're probably going to die either way- so why not just throw out your honest intentions.

"I'm trying to escape earth." You simply say, voice trembling as it's hardly loud enough to reach him properly.

"Why?" He presses on, leather moving again with distinctive noise as he squats down, gun still against the back of your head. "Are you a criminal?" He asks, and you shake your head.

"No." You answer. "Just.. over it." You shrug, tumbling forwards a little as you lose your balance for a second, brain becoming dizzy.

"Give me your name." He demands. "I will try and verify your information myself." The man says, and you laugh to yourself.

"Well, too bad." You chuckle. "I don't have a name. Got a number though, if you want it?" You slur by now, growing increasingly nauseous as your body seems to be hot one second and icy cold another. It seems as if he's noticing your state by now as well, hands moving your arm upwards as he inspects the blood staining your shirt by now.

"How did that happen?" He asks, and you try and explain- but there's no thought properly formed anymore. "Hah..., weak things." He mumbles to himself as he lets you fall forward onto your side, unable to sit upright any longer. He isn't very gentle as he lifts you up, over his shoulder to carry you out the cargo area of his ship and down several hallways like nothing but a sack of potatoes, into a room that looks awfully sterile and small. You're barely conscious, really, as you only somewhat feel him lay you down somewhere.

Everything between that, and now, as you wake up with a feeling of sudden panic, is just not there.

Your wrist is bound to the metal frame of the simple bedframe in the sterile, small room, machines beeping and occasionally making other noises as a voice rings out through a speaker, a sound echoing to signal an announcement. "Don't think your weak body will make me overlook the fact that you're a stowaway that illegally entered my ship." His voice echoes through the room. "You've broken human laws, and I'm required by the intergalactic union to report your crimes." He says, and you flop down onto the bed at that, a hand on your face desperately trying to hide your tears. That's even worse than getting shot through the airlock.

So you act out of panic, sitting up to rip out the IV line from your arm. "Hey- stop that!" He barks through the intercom, but you don't listen, as you try to squeeze and wiggle your hand out of the handcuffs bound to the bed, tugging on other sensors connected to your body, uncaring of the harsh sting and slight blood you're drawing.

It's when the only door of the room opens, and the man walks in, boots heavy on the floor as he leans one knee on the bed, grabbing your wrists that you're forced to stop your little panic attack. "Stop that." He growls, looking at you with both annoyance and anger as he watches you. "What in canis major is fucking wrong with you?" He scoffs, a low, clicking like sound in the back of his throat as his eyes glow an angry red.

"Throw me out the airlock then." You ask, frustrated tears brimming in your eyes as you look at him. "Shoot me in the head, I don't care." You tell him.

"Death won't lift your crimes, human." He tells you lowly. "You should've considered the consequences prior to your actions." The young man says.

"Hah, as if I didn't do that!" You bark at his face, and he leans back at that, eyes shifting slowly from their deep red to a more orange hue. "I'm not going back to earth. At least not alive." You say with a final tone to your voice, and at that he gets up, sighs, his eyes a pale yellow-ish brown as he opens them again to move around, and pick up the IV you'd tugged out from your arm, discarding the used needle before he moves to get a new, packaged one.

"How did you loose your name?" He asks, as he walks around, prepares the IV again it seems like, while you sit on the bed, legs tucked in closely. "I've looked up the number inked on your wrist. What you said about your identity seems to be true- but there's always a reason why humans loose their names, and yet there was no criminal record attached to you." He explains, and you shrug.

"Just.." You shrug again, glaring at him a bit as he rather roughly tugs your hand away from your knees, turning your forearm to locate a vein again. "Not worth it, I guess. I'm not trained in any field that's considered valuable, and I'm also not very smart- so I lost my name when I turned twenty-one because I'm not valuable enough." You say.

"That doesn't make any sense." He furrows his brows as he places the IV back in with not much regard to you hissing when he pishes the needle into your skin, securing it with medical tape before he adjusts the machines and sensors again.

"Yeah well, a lot of things don't make sense on earth." You mumble as you watch him, hissing a bit when he tugs on your skin too roughly as he checks the large plaster covering your stab wound.

"Stay here now, and stop being ungrateful for my care while I go over some things." He says, and you tug on the handcuffs a bit, as if to remind him. "What?" He asks.

"Are you.. not taking those off?" You wonder, and he seems almost amused as he looks at you with a slightly pinkish undertone in his eyes.

"No." He simply answers, door opening with a hiss of the hydraulics. "Wouldn't want you to get too comfortable here, after all."

[luminoustarlight]

"Slut!" | Modern!Anakin Skywalker

a miss americana and the heartbreak prince story

(modern!au / high school!au)

High school culture in this series is extremely dramatized and fictionalized. As mentioned in the series masterlist, the characters are 18 years old. Padmé is very out of character in this series as well. There are lots of nods to Taylor Swift lyrics in this, too. So it's really fun for swifties and star war babes.

Slut

noun

a woman who has many casual sexual partners.

The definition of “slut” more accurately describes Anakin rather than you. Afterall, he is the Heartbreak Prince of Lucas High School. But men never pay the price for sleeping around. They’re awarded a higher social status. Or in Anakin Skywalker’s case, you become the Senior every Freshman boy wants to be. 

Anakin Skywalker used to be a player. Anakin Skywalker used to go through girls faster than the news could spread around school. He had no qualms with one night stands or taking a girl’s virginity because she asked him to. He was honored to be a girls’ first time. 

He dated Padmé Amidala exclusively from January until June. When the new school year began, everyone wondered who would be the next one to get their heart broken by Anakin. Nobody could’ve guessed it would be Miss Americana. 

The crowd at the Homecoming game nearly quieted when Anakin spun you around in the middle of the field. When he nuzzled his sweaty face into your neck, kissing your warm skin as if it was a greater reward than winning the football game. It took you by surprise, to say the least. You’ve only been seeing each other for about a month and had yet to interact or show affection at school. It was quite the announcement. And the message was loud and clear. Anakin had a new girl and she’s nothing like his ex. 

Padmé had watched you and Anakin with a fire fueled by jealousy in her stomach. You had a stupid, naïve smile on your face as you walked off of the field with Anakin’s varsity jacket draped over your shoulders. That should be me. Maybe it’s all an act to make me jealous. 

So that’s how the whispers began at the Homecoming dance. Padmé had rallied her cheerleading friends to start spreading rumors. By the time you walked through the gymnasium doors attached to Anakin’s arm, everyone had made up their mind about you. You’re nothing but a slut and a man-stealer. 

It’s unnerving having so many eyes on you at once. It’s like they all have a radar when Anakin walks into a room. He’s just that magnetic of a man. And he’s used to it. But it makes you uncomfortable and Anakin can sense it. 

“Are you alright?” 

You swallow and plaster on an unconvincing smile. “‘M fine.”

“Hey,” Anakin says gently. He cups your elbows and rubs his thumbs over your arms. “We’re all dressed up, you look stunning and I’m having a particularly great hair day. They might as well look at us. I want you to enjoy yourself tonight. Do you think you can do that for me?” 

Maroon 5’s Moves Like Jagger thrumming in your ears makes it difficult to think or to argue. Anakin is right. You didn’t spend $120 on an aquamarine dress for nothing. “Fine,” you concede. “But if I hear people talking about me, can we leave and go to Denny’s?” 

“They’re going to talk about you, angel,” Anakin kisses you on the cheek. “It’s just how it is. But none of it means a thing. C’mon, let’s dance.” 

You dance for about twenty minutes before needing to get something to drink. Of course it’s the same time Anakin meets up with his football friends, leaving you at the snack table with a target on your back. Serena and Molly, Padmé’s closest friends slither up next to you. 

“Hey, Slut,” Serena jeers. That insult was bound to reach your ears sooner or later. It’s by no means true or accurate but they don’t care. They’re not about to bad mouth Anakin. 

“So… you and Anakin, huh?” Molly begins. “He’s a bit out of your league, isn’t he?” 

“Don’t worry, Mol. She’s just his rebound. He’s gonna get back with Padmé when he realizes what a loser she is. No offense,” Serena adds insincerely. 

“That definitely felt like something you wanted me to take offense to,” you say. You scan the gym for Anakin, hoping he’ll see the situation you’re in and rescue you. But when you put it like that, you sound so pathetic. You can get out of this yourself. “And I’m not his rebound.” 

“No?” Molly puts her hands on his hips. “That’s not what I heard…” 

No, you tell yourself. Don’t indulge her. Whatever she has to say isn’t true. 

Serena laughs at you. “You don’t honestly think Anakin actually likes you, do you? He’s just using you to make Padmé jealous. You’re all part of his plan to get her back.” 

Even though you know Serena is lying, her words still manage to plant seeds of doubt in you. But they don’t know anything about you and Anakin. There is something special kindling between the two of you. Anakin cares about you. It’s in the way he drops off a Dirty Chai latte on your porch before going to school. It’s written in the notes he stealthily slips into your locker when he says he’s going to the bathroom in the middle of class. It’s the sweatshirts he lets you borrow and the sleepless movie nights eating buttery popcorn and stale Red Vines over the last two weekends. 

“You’re wrong,” you say with a slight quiver in your lip. You hate how Serena has made you question everything with Anakin. If it’s all just for show then why does he kiss you when no one is watching? Why did he insist on keeping your new relationship private if not to nurture your budding romance without prying eyes? 

He’s ashamed of you. 

Then why did he ask you to the dance? 

To humiliate you in front of the whole school. 

This is just a game to him. Your embarrassment is the prize. 

“Aw, I think we hurt Little Miss Americana’s feelings,” Molly feigns a sad face, dragging her finger down her cheek as if it’s a fallen tear. “I hate to make it worse but it looks like he and Padmé might be making up right now.” 

Molly and Serena point in Anakin’s direction, where he is indeed speaking with Padmé. It’s the first time you’ve seen her all night and she looks breathtaking. Her chocolate hair is curled to perfection, bouncy locks cascading over her shoulders. A plunging neckline draws your eyes down her chest and seriously, she was allowed to wear this to a high school dance? 

She’s throwing her head back dramatically, as if Anakin just told her the joke of the year. And then— dear God, you want to throw up— he’s hugging her. You count the seconds. 1…2…3… you can’t watch it anymore. You turn away from Serena and Juliette abruptly and make your way out of the gymnasium. 

“So long, slut,” Serena waves. 

The brisk October air assaults your skin and invades your lungs, but it’s welcomed compared to the betrayal you feel coursing through your veins. Is this the end of Miss Americana and the Heartbreak Prince? You’ve only had a month with him but you want a dozen more. You’ve barely had time to discover what your relationship could become. 

Perfect pearls of salt begin falling down your cheeks. How could you have been so lovelorn? How could you have gotten it all wrong? You were too blinded by Anakin’s charm to see that it was always meant to be temporary. 

“Y/N!” Anakin calls for you. He spots you sitting on the curb with your head in your hands. 

A little piece of him crumbles. Someone has hurt you. Little does he know it was him who did. 

He rushes over to you and lays his arm over your back as he sits down. “What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing.” You let yourself relish in the feeling of having his protective arm around you. It might be the last time. “Go back inside.” 

“No,” Anakin replies, tilting your face toward him with a finger beneath your chin. “You’ve been crying.” 

“What an astute observation, Anakin.” 

Okay, so apparently you’re going back to the days when you hated each other. Right. Great. Why? 

“You’re… mad at me…?” Anakin thinks out loud. 

“I’m-” you stand abruptly, making you dizzy as all of the blood rushes out of your head. You wait until you can see clearly before continuing to speak. “I’m confused, Anakin! I’m angry at myself for falling for you, I’m angry at myself for being so naïve in thinking this was as real for you as it was for me. I can’t believe I was so fucking stupid-” 

Anakin stands as well. Clearly, something happened in the gymnasium. Someone said something to you. Or you saw something that wasn’t what it seemed.  “What are you talking about?”

“You and Padmé.”

“Are over,” Anakin emphasizes. 

“But…” you close your eyes, replaying the scene you saw before you. Padmé laughing, Anakin bringing her in for a hug… it was all so friendly. 

“But you saw us hug?” Anakin asks calmly. You nod. “But you didn’t hear me?” 

“No,” you reply shamefully. 

“I told her that I don’t want to get back together with her. My relationship with her was the first real one I’ve had and it taught me a lot, but it is not what I want. It’s not what I need. She is not who I want or who I need.” 

“Ani…”

Anakin shakes his head. “I’m not done. Look, I know we’re only 18 and I know we have our whole lives ahead of us but let’s not think about that. Think about right now,” Anakin grabs your hands. “This is real for me. You’re my favorite person to spend time with. I’m so fucking excited that everyone at this fucking school knows we’re together because now I can kiss you whenever I want. I can push you up against the lockers and make out with you until we get yelled at by Mr. Windu.” 

That makes you giggle. You can totally hear Mr. Windu telling you to get off of each other before he gives you both detention. 

“I don’t have to be so fucking sneaky with putting notes in your locker. You can wear my Varsity jacket at games. We can actually go out to a restaurant and go on a date. Don’t give up on us, baby. We’ve only just begun.” 

It’s not a proclamation of love or anything, but it’s enough. Everyone wants Anakin Skywalker and that seems to be your crime. You stole him before anyone else had the chance. 

remember to reblog and leave comments to support authors!

◂ series masterlist ▸ anakin masterlist

[misshoneyimhome]

i love the willy kick you’ve been on but can you do an auston enemies to lovers? maybe she’s will’s best friend in it too?

I can always do something with Auston, bb 😉❤️ And of course, as always, I got a bit carried away - I mean, how can you not love this handsome face 😍

Word count: 4.3K

・✶ ｡ﾟ

I'm so furious at you for making me feel this way

"Ugh, he's just so annoying..." you muttered quietly as you entered Willy’s apartment, returning to his place after a casual dinner with the team.

"Come on, y/n, you have to find a way to be around Auston. He's one of my best friends, and since you're one too, I want you two to get along."

**

For months, William had been trying to build a connection between you and Auston. 

Having just moved to Toronto six months ago, your childhood friend William Nylander had been so kind to introduce you to the city. You had happily accepted a new job opportunity, and within a few weeks, Willy messaged you on Instagram after seeing your post about the move.

As children, William had always been one of your closest friends, but due to his moving around, it was sometimes challenging to meet up. However, thanks to social media, you both managed to stay updated about each other's lives.

And as your old friendship quickly rekindled, returning to its comfortable roots, you swiftly became best friends again.

Soon after spending quite the amount of time together, William had introduced you not only to his closest friends but also to the entire team. However, there was a catch – Although your heart might belong to another team, Toronto had to earn a soft spot as this was your new home.

Fortunately, you clicked well with everyone on the team, including their significant others. Yet, for some reason, Auston had irked you from the moment you met him.

He hadn't particularly done anything against you, but it was his smug expressions and comments about your sudden switch in team loyalty just to impress Willy that grated on you. Then, he had the nerve to suggest that you wanted to cosy up to your "so called" best friends to gain entry into the NHL world and snag hockey tickets.

"Probably just to boost followers on her Instagram," he quipped one evening, speaking low enough for only a few people to catch, yet loud enough for you to hear.

However, your intentions were far from that. Fame or social media followers were nowhere near your goals. All you wanted was to spend more time with Willy, and since you loved watching hockey, you were more than willing to pay for your own tickets.

So, from that moment on, every time Auston was around, you saw red. He exuded excessive confidence and an overall air of being too much. Sure, he was a star player on the team, but he wasn't constantly on top form. He had his off days, yet he was terrible at owning up to his mistakes.

To say the least, your thoughts about Auston weren't exactly positive, and his opinions about you weren't any better.

In his eyes, you were plain and uninteresting. A workaholic who seemed to indulge excessively on weekends, not holding back when it came to alcohol. He observed you flirting with almost every guy when out, and your perpetually upbeat and positive attitude was just too sickeningly cute for his taste.

The only reason he put up with being around you was because he recognised how much you meant to Willy and what a good friend you were to him. That, he could respect.

**

"I can be around him, Willy - I just prefer not to," you quipped, as the two of you headed first to the kitchen to grab a few snacks before settling on the sofa after a long walk with Pablo and Banksy.

"I mean it, y/n/n, I want you two to get along," William sighed lightly, though his friendly smile remained.

"I know, but we just... don't," you attempted to flash a sweet smile as you conveyed your feelings to William. "I can't put my finger on it... maybe it's his terrible moustache that he's always so damn proud of..."

"He's a Movember ambassador..."

"Well, he doesn't limit it to just November," you replied, a hint of disgust in your expression and a sigh. "He's simply not my cup of tea, and I'm definitely not his either."

William regarded you with a thoughtful expression, slowly coming to terms with the idea that the relationship between you and Auston might not improve, although a part of him thought otherwise.

"You know, you two are actually more alike than you think," he chuckled, trying to gently nudge you out of your comfort zone.

"Oh really?" You retorted with a light huff. "And how exactly am I similar to that self-absorbed so-called hockey star?" You raised an eyebrow.

"Well, for starters, you're both incredibly stubborn," William laughed heartily, a point you begrudgingly had to admit he might be right about. "And secondly, you're both insanely passionate about what you do. And you both care about your family and friends..." He continued softly, meeting your gaze as his words began to ease your tense demeanour. "Come on, Auston's a really great guy once you get past that tough exterior of his, and you're a wonderful person too - he just needs to see it. Then, I think the two of you could actually become pretty good friends."

William genuinely believed in what he said, but he was gradually growing tired of the ongoing friction between you and Auston. So, he made an effort to establish some sort of connection.

"Alright," he sighed deeply. "I suppose I can give him another chance..."

"That's all I'm asking for," William chuckled lightly before both of you diverted the conversation and turned your attention to the TV show you had planned to watch.

**

A couple of days later, you found yourself back in your usual spot at the Scotia Bank Arena, where the Leafs were facing off against the Senators.

Despite your efforts over the past 48 hours to shift your thoughts about Auston, making an attempt for the sake of your best friend William, as the players were announced and his prominent face appeared on the large screens, applauded for his talent, you couldn't help but feel a knot of discomfort within you.

"Fucking twat," you muttered under your breath, fortunately unnoticed by anyone around.

However, as the game began, you shook your head, attempting to push away any negative thoughts about him. You concluded that he wasn't worth your energy and mental space, but avoiding thoughts of him was easier said than done. After all, you were at a hockey game where he played, and his number was frequently mentioned.

Nonetheless, you did your best to ignore it and enjoy the company of other fans, including girls and families supporting the players. The arena reverberated with cheers and excitement as both teams alternated in scoring and taking the lead, making the match almost unbearably intense to watch.

During the third period, the score stood at 4-4, and with just three minutes remaining, if nothing changed, the game would head into overtime.

Your pulse raced alongside your quickened heartbeat as your eyes fervently tracked the play. And just before the buzzer sounded, number 34 skilfully manoeuvred the puck around the skates of two Senators and swiftly shot it under the goalie's pads, concluding the match with a 5-4 win for the Leafs. Which also secured him a hatty for the game.

"Of course," you thought, lightly shaking your head as the entire arena erupted with cheers and excitement, loud applause echoing through the air, and hats being thrown onto the ice.

Following the game, everyone gathered outside the locker room, waiting for the players to finish showering, attending to media commitments, and celebrations, where Auston was naturally announced as the player of the match.

You were engaged in conversation with some of the girlfriends as the players gradually exited the dressing room. And as one of the last to emerge, you patiently waited for Willy.

"Hey," he greeted, approaching you with damp hair, dressed in his post-game outfit. "I thought you had a date tonight?"

"Oh yeah, but we rescheduled since he had to cancel," you replied with a sweet smile and a light shrug.

"You didn't ditch him, did you?" William chuckled.

"What, no, he just cancelled on me. So, I chose to come here and offer my support to my best friend and his team," you playfully responded with a light smirk.

"Alright, well, I just need to finish up some things with Brad, then maybe we can go out for a late-night snack?" William suggested.

"Sure," you said with a friendly smile as William began to walk away. However, your smile quickly faded as a certain Arizona lad playfully joined your personal space, prompting you to turn and face him. 

"Already tired of your new victim, y/n?" Auston's voice was filled with his signature confidence, clearly relishing the moment, especially after tonight's game.

"What's that supposed to mean, Auston?" Your tone was sharp and fierce as the tall lad stepped in closer to you.

"Well, just seems like you've been through every eligible bachelor in Toronto, and nobody seems to be good enough for you," a smug grin stretched across his tanned face, his ridiculous moustache curving along his lip.

"I haven't been through every bachelor in Toronto..." you retorted defensively. "Besides, there's nothing wrong with having standards - I mean, at least I'm not like you, poking into every available cunt you can find."

Your words seemed to hit a nerve with Auston, yet he responded with a dismissive huff and a chuckle, brushing off your comment.

"At least I'm getting some action - maybe you could use some too," his chuckle was cocky, and you couldn't help but express a disgusted look.

"Well, I'm sorry I don't sleep around like you do and actually prefer to be with someone I genuinely like," you retorted, matching his smug attitude. Though you knew it wasn't entirely true; you were open to casual hook up now and then, but you did prefer to get to know a person a bit before getting intimate. 

"I'm just saying it might be good for you," Auston chuckled. "Besides, didn't you just get dumped last year? I mean, you should be out there, playing the field after ending a relationship."

"I didn't get dumped! And how do you even know about that?" you retorted sharply.

"Willy mentioned it a while ago," Auston replied with a smile.

"Hmm, well, yes, I... we broke up, but that doesn't mean I've given up, you know," you huffed gently, almost desperate to make a point. You understood Auston wasn't the most romantic person, and his confident, boyish manner shouldn't make you believe that all men were like him. "And I especially don't need to go around sleeping with everyone."

You crossed your arms defensively, fixing him with an intense gaze.

However, your stern comment only made Auston chuckle even more. "Whatever, still think it'd be good for you."

And as if on cue, William returned from his chat with Brad, and Auston quickly walked away after nodding to his teammate.

"Hey, you ready?" William asked with a friendly smile.

"Yeah, I'm all set," you replied with a smile, though your attempt to contain your annoyance wasn't entirely successful.

"What was that all about?" He chuckled a little.

"Oh, nothing," you gently rolled your eyes. "Just Auston being Auston."

Knowing you well enough, William merely chuckled and let the matter drop.

**

The following Sunday, you found yourself feeling freezing, sitting outside on a bench and waiting.

Your date had been rescheduled, and now you were impatiently enduring the cold while waiting for him to show up by the outdoor ice-skating rink the city. The first 20 minutes were bearable; you assumed he was just running late. But after 40 minutes with no replies to your messages and no sign of him, you started feeling rather foolish.

This turn of events caught you off guard. Based on your last two dates, everything had seemed to go smoothly, and you'd been texting each other every day for weeks. However, suddenly, for some unknown reason, he appeared to have lost interest in you.

But you wanted to maintain some semblance of dignity, to believe that he had a valid excuse, and that something unexpected had caused this delay. However, you also didn't want to be too naive. And after an hour had passed, you realised it was time to leave. It wasn't a mere mistake about the time; he had indeed stood you up and ghosted you.

And just when you thought things couldn't get any worse, a familiar voice spoke from behind as you stood up from your seat.

"Still waiting for your knight in shining armour?"

It was Auston. Of course, HE was here. And he'd spotted you.

"Shit," you muttered to yourself as you slowly turned around to face the last person you wanted to see right now.

"And what are you doing here?" you flashed him an unsatisfied grin, letting out a deep sigh.

"I was just ice skating with some friends," he simply replied, one hand tucked comfortably in his pocket to keep warm, while the other held his pair of skates. "So, are you here alone?"

"Why do you care, Auston?" your tone softened, yet it held a deep, sharp edge.

"Just noticed you were sitting all alone from across the rink..." he spoke almost gently, taking another step towards you, a smirk still on his face.

"And what? So, you thought I was looking pathetic, and you decided to come over here with your smug face and revel in the fact that I'd been stood up? Well, I'm sorry Auston, but I'm not in the mood for your annoying comments right now," you said sarcastically, feeling your tone might be a bit more aggressive than intended. However, you couldn't seem to control yourself at this moment. It turned out you were more hurt than you initially thought.

"What... no, y/n, I'm sorry, I didn't know you'd been stood up," Auston spoke, his smirk slowly fading as he noticed the genuine sadness and disappointment on your face. "Honestly, I didn't even know you were on a date; it was just a joke."

Your eyes met his, and you found yourself unable to respond immediately. While slowly, you felt tears starting to well up, but you tried your best to hold them back and not let it show. 

"I'm sorry..." you said. "I just didn’t find it particularly funny..." Your arms crossed over your chest, not defensively but more as a way to comfort yourself, as a tear trickling down your cheek, and your heart heavy with disappointment.

Auston's expression had also completely changed. He seemed almost... concerned about you?

In that moment, Auston found himself genuinely impacted by seeing you so vulnerable. You were completely exposed emotionally, and he felt a sense of empathy for you, being treated in such a manner. While you might not have been his favourite person, he also didn't believe you deserved to be treated this way. And it stirred an unexpected urge in him to offer you comfort.

So, without overthinking it, he found himself speaking up.

"Do you want to skate together?"

His words surprised both you and himself. You never expected Auston to ask you to spend time with him, let alone attempt to console you in an emotional situation.

Baffled, you stood there, still in your skates, amidst the cheerful sounds of people skating and having fun around you. You simply stared at the man before you, shaking your head gently, trying to gather your thoughts to respond.

"What?"

Auston chuckled lightly, realising the surprising nature of his question. Yet, a sense of warmth grew within him as he contemplated trying to uplift your spirits.

"I asked, do you want to skate together?"

Though still slightly baffled, you regarded him with a curious look.

"I thought you were here with your friends?"

"I am," he flashed a smile. "But they have each other – you, on the other hand, seem like you could use some company."

You weren't entirely certain what to make of this situation. Was Auston joking? Was he playing around or something?

But oddly, he seemed genuine.

"Why... would you do that?" you inquired, a curious smile forming on your lips, prompting Auston to release a soft sigh.

"Well… maybe Willy has asked me to be a little nicer to you… and, since he's my best friend, and hanging out with him also means being around you from time to time, I figured…" Auston shrugged lightly before continuing, "Maybe I can, I don't know, try and get to know you a little bit better. And since you're all alone, why not now."

You found yourself holding your breath momentarily, contemplating his words. Yet, as you observed him, his smirk faded, gently licking his lips and replaced by a soft smile on his face.

"Alright," you replied softly, meeting his gaze as your eyes reflected the city lights around the rink. “But only if you promise me one thing…”

"Which is?" 

"You won't laugh at me skating…" you timidly requested, a hint of embarrassment colouring your cheeks.

"Why would I laugh?" Auston gently smiled.

"I'm good at skating, but I'm also rather clumsy," you admitted, a small smile forming on your lips, and Auston simply replied with a casual chuckle.

"Don't worry, I'll catch you if you fall then."

After putting on his skates as well, both of you headed onto the ice together with soft laughter. And surprisingly, Auston turned out to be excellent company.

Surely, at first, it was a bit awkward. Breaking the tension that had built up over months between you wasn't easy. But gradually, as you continued skating side by side, the atmosphere lightened. William was, of course, the primary topic of your conversation, as he was your strongest common link. However, the conversation then gradually shifted to hockey – what you both liked and disliked about the sport. And soon, you found yourselves sharing personal details, discussing your upbringing and your personal stories.

Auston even laughed when you shared childhood stories about you and Willy, talking about the times when you gave him advice about girls during your teenage years. He then reciprocated by sharing stories from their road trips and the challenges of growing up while playing in the NHL. He delved into tales about his family, highlighting how supportive they had always been, and mentioned being the protective brother and the struggles he faced in finding close friends with whom he could form genuine bonds.

And this sudden display of vulnerability started to alter your perception of him, if only slightly. As you continued gliding across the ice, maintaining your closeness, Auston began discussing how many people in his life had come and gone, primarily seeking his friendship for the sake of public recognition.

You found yourself developing a small soft spot for him as he gradually opened up, revealing a side you had never seen before, one that he probably never showed to the team or to many others. And despite having tried to maintain a distance from him, you slowly came to realise that you did, in fact, know Auston quite well. You understood that he wasn't comfortable discussing emotions or engaging in heartfelt conversations, so this talk was a significant step for him.

Eventually, both of you skated to the edge of the rink to pause for a moment, a brief silence settling between you before you decided to break it with a soft sigh.

"Is that why you said those things about me when Willy first introduced me to the team?" you looked up at him, facing each other, both resting a hand on the border. "That I only wanted to be close friends with him because of fame."

Auston understood exactly what you meant, and you were spot on. That had indeed been his initial thought about you when you re-entered the life of one of his best friends.

With a gentle nod, he softly replied, "Yes."

Another quiet moment settled between you, and it became evident what this misunderstanding had truly been about. Auston's initial desire to shield Willy from a potentially damaging friendship, and your perception of him as cocky and arrogant because of his defensive stance from the start.

Once again, your eyes locked, a bit more intensely this time, as you both felt the opportunity to break free from this tension between you.

"Well, I hope I managed to prove you wrong then," you sighed softly, offering him a sweet, friendly smile.

And Auston simply matched your expression. "You did," he replied.

With a few shared light laughs, the profound tension suddenly dissipated. And a new sensation seemed to grow between you both – perhaps even a potential friendship.

But just as everything seemed to settle into a comfortable rhythm, someone suddenly appeared out of nowhere and forcefully crashed into you, causing you to fall over and straight into Auston, who lost his footing and ended up falling backward onto his back, pulling you along with him. In the midst of the fall, you accidentally collided, your head hitting his face, resulting in both of you letting out loud yells.

"Fuck!" Auston shouted.

"Shit, Aus, are you okay?"

Your head was spinning from the adrenaline rush.

"Yeah, I think I'm good... how about you?"

"Well, I did land quite softly," you tried to offer a light chuckle, prompting Auston to do the same.

And slowly, with a bit of assistance from the stranger who had accidentally bumped into you, both of you managed to regain your footing. However, your attention snapped back to Auston as you noticed something alarming.

"Fuck, your nose is bleeding!"

Auston touched his nose, confirming that it was indeed bleeding from the collision.

"Come on, let's get out of here," you suggested, gently taking his hand as you both stepped off the ice and made your way to sit on a nearby bench.

Auston tried to lean back to prevent too much bleeding, while you gently guided him and then applied a piece of tissue to his nose. Thankfully, you had had the foresight to have a package in your pocket, though not specifically for situations like this, it turned out to be quite practical.

Sitting closely on the bench, you carefully wiped the blood off his nose, feeling a twinge of guilt despite knowing the accident wasn't your fault. And Auston's intense gaze focused on you as you attended to him.

"I guess this wasn't how you thought your date would be," he chuckled.

"Maybe not," you gently smiled back. "But despite the blood, I actually think it's been a rather fun day," you softly admitted, meeting his eyes.

Auston reciprocated your smile, feeling your gentle touch close to his face.

"He's an idiot, you know, for blowing you off like this," he gently spoke, causing you to pause and look up at him.

"Thanks, but I suppose it's just my luck… you were right, I've dated so many guys, and although I promised myself never to give up on love, it's just not always easy," you softly admitted.

"Hey, it's his loss – I mean, you're... sweet, funny, and quite good-looking, so if he doesn't want to date you, he’s the one missing out. You shouldn't feel bad about it."

"You really think so?"

"Yeah... I mean... I know I haven't always treated you nicely, but... I've always thought you were hot," Auston chuckled.

"You're not too shabby yourself," you flashed him a sweet smile, eliciting another laugh from him. 

As you sat closely together amidst the vibrant winter wonderland in the heart of Toronto, both of you couldn't help but feel a sense of connection.

It felt odd.

It was as if all previous tension had vanished. You were now just two individuals, engaged in pleasant conversation, enjoying each other's company.

And Auston finally understood what William saw in you. He had never felt this comfortable opening up and expressing his thoughts to someone. No one had ever made him feel so at ease and relaxed during a heartfelt conversation like you. You were certainly something else.

But then clearing your throat, you broke the intense gaze you shared.

"Perhaps I should better get going... it's getting late, and I shouldn't be keeping you from your friends like this," you timidly suggested, looking down at your hands for a moment before beginning to unlace your skates.

With a nod, Auston followed suit, swiftly changing back into regular shoes. Standing with your skates in hand, you exchanged a sweet smile before an unexpected surge of confidence propelled you to lean in and plant a timid kiss on his cheek.

"Thank you, Auston... I really enjoyed spending time with you today," you softly expressed, while tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

"You're welcome," he replied, exhaling softly. 

But then as you turned to walk away, an unexpected desire to keep you close surged within Auston. And with his free hand, he swiftly caught yours, drawing you back toward him, pressing his chest against yours before tenderly kissing your lips.

The kiss was gentle, yet both of you found yourselves leaning slightly into it. Auston dropped his skates, using his hand to cup your face, holding you just a little closer, before slowly pulling apart.

You exhaled deeply, confusion mingling with a pleasant sensation, ultimately giving way to a smile.

"So, I guess this means we're good?" you tentatively joked.

"Yeah... and the next date you're going on will be with me," Auston stated firmly, wearing a wide grin.

"God, you're way too confident," you teased, playfully rolling your eyes at him.

"Maybe, but I know you like it," he countered, raising an eyebrow before leaning in to connect your lips once again.