#sometimes you just wake up in a place and find it WRECKED

[cappycodeart]

The remains of a broken world...

[wtfsteveharrington]

after midnight | carmen berzatto x reader

summary: chicago is expensive, okay? so you pick up a job outside of the restaurant which just so happens to involve your camera. everything's fine until richie stumbles upon the website and shares it with camry.

contents: perv!carmy, male & female masturbation, sex toys, dirty talk, cam sex, slight dub-con kinda if you look for it. carmy’s honestly a wreck. mentions of unprotected sex, choking, oral sex, overstimulation. please note!! no formal intercourse takes place yet but it's cuming coming but ya girl wants a slow burn

reader description: she/her pronouns, there is semi a hair scene but i use no real descriptors so still vague!

word count: basically 3.9k

author notes: first fic in a year baby and boy did i lose the plot!! filth!! also i sure love saying fuck in this so enjoy that

part two

★–————————–

Richie’s voice is annoying. It echos, ricochets off the walls, and can’t be contained by even the highest quality of sound proofing. Which is why, at 8 in the morning, Carmen’s already considering having to take Excedrin as Richie bursts through the doors. 

“Carmy, Cousin, you’re never gonna fuckin’ believe what I found last night.” He’s out of breath after running in, fumbling around with his phone in a rush to pull something up. He’d spent all night contemplating if he texted Carmen or waited to show him in person. Ultimately the urge to see his reaction won but that didn’t stop Richie from waking up before his alarm out of excitement. “Listen, we’re both grown ass men so I’m gonna say it -“ he’s glancing around to make sure they’re alone, “- So I’m laying there and jerkin’ my shit, right?” 

Carmen’s wincing, pinching the bridge of his nose and contemplating every decision that brought him back to Chicago. 

“Dude, fuck off. I don’t wanna hear -“ Richie tsks, cutting him off. 

“Nah, shut the fuck up because you wanna hear this. In fact, you’re gonna wanna fall to your knees and kiss my shoes and praise my ass as a thank you for finding this.” 

He’s holding up his phone, an iPhone 8 he refuses to upgrade, and illuminated on the screen is a video of you. You, on your knees, in lingerie. You, with your fingers dragging down your chest, across the lace that covers your breasts. Your head falls back as you run your thumbs across your nipples. A sound so angelic coming from your lips that Carmen starts to understand why people spend so much time at Church. He’s convinced you’re hand carved by God, or Buddha, or whatever might be up there. 

Carmy’s instantly feeling a rush of heat across his chest and his cheeks as he takes the sight of you in. It feels wrong but at the same time the coiling in his stomach feels so good he can’t look away quite yet. “Why the…” He’s cut off by a whine coming from Richie’s speaker as you keep teasing yourself. His brain is frying for a second as he tries to focus on finishing his sentence. “How the hell did you find this?” 

“Listen, sometimes I get bored on the same ole sites, okay? Clicked an ad to see who was live and ended up here. Now I stopped watching, obviously, out of respect but this? I’ve known you long enough to know when you gotta thing for someone and you’re not gonna act on it. Also, I caught you staring at her ass as she filled the deep freeze the other night. Kinda gave it away. So this is the way you can still get some pussy while being a fuckin’ pussy.” Richie’s punching the air, clearly proud of himself.

Carmy’s smacking him upside the head, his body now torn between lust and annoyance. “Watch your mouth, alright? That is so fucked, Richie. Put that shit anyway and I better not see you tell a single other person this exists.” 

And yeah, he took note of your screen name before he walked away. Don’t judge him. 

———★–————————–

Look - There have been a lot of times in his life where Carmen hasn’t been proud of himself. But settling back into bed, hooking his thumbs on the waistband of his boxers and pulling them down to rest under his balls? Yeah, he’s not proud to say the least. After seeing even just the glimpse of you this morning though it’s been all he could think about. The. Whole. Fucking. Day. He watched out of the corner of his eye while you bent over the line to scrub down the wall behind your station tonight. Burning to memory the way your ass just slightly jiggled from the aggressive motion of wiping down the surface. A soft grunt coming from you as you reach for something just a little too high. He finally snapped out of it when the smell of the chemicals he sprayed down on his own surface got a little too strong and refocused. 

He wasn’t proud when he ran to the restroom and contemplated just jacking off over the toilet to get some relief. You were clouding his brain, only the rush of the evening giving him some small relief. 

You seemed vocal in the small clip he saw. He’s wondering if you would have asked him to cum for you. Would you think it’s a waste that he’s cumming down the drain instead of covering your ass with it? Filling your mouth and making you swallow every drop around him? Or, Jesus Christ, would you wrap your legs around his waist and beg him not to pull out? 

So yeah. Carmy’s had quite the fucking day to say the least. 

He’s finally home and running straight to bed. His stuff dropped in a heap by the front door and was easily forgotten. Throwing himself back onto the mattress after ripping off his shirt and his pants. Left just groaning into the empty room, his cock twitching at the thought of you. Your page has been sitting on an Incognito tab all day and it’s finally, finally being loaded up. This feels like an invasion of privacy in a way but Carmen can’t quite think logically with how heavy his balls feel and how painfully hard he is. There’s not much time to spare so he clicks the first video you’ve uploaded that he can.

And there you are. 

Sitting in the middle of a big bed and rubbing your hands along your thighs, smiling at the camera. His heart is twitching, cock is twitching, everything is fucking twitching. And you’re just sitting there, licking your lips and sliding your hands under the thin material of some weird lace one piece he wants to rip off. 

“Hi there, Pretty Boy.” Your voice is music to his ears and Carmy can’t take it any longer. His fist is wrapping around his cock, a broken moan filling the room as he finally gets some relief. “I’ve been waiting for you to come home all day.”

Sue him, but he’s skipping ahead a little. There’s not much time until he cums and he needs to see you. All of you. He’s gripping his phone with one hand, bringing the other that’s around his cock up to his mouth to spit in. His thumb is haphazardly trying to keep the phone balanced while scrubbing through the video until he thinks he’s at a good spot. You’re laid back now, thighs spread for the camera and pussy on display. Carmen’s muttering to himself about how gorgeous you are, longing to tell you in person. You’re holding this royal blue dildo in your hands that’s suddenly his biggest enemy. He deserves to be there, not this stupid, useless chuck of silicone. There’s a whimper from the speaker as you take the toy and slide it along yourself, tapping it twice against your clit. “Fuck, I need you.” 

Fuckin’ hell does he needs you too. 

His fist is clamped around his dick once again, fucking his hips up into the the slick, tight grip. You’re still teasing yourself by sticking just the head of the dildo in before gasping and pulling it back out. “Please, Baby. I need you so bad, need to come for you.” His brain is breaking. An animalistic urge taking over to fuck you until you can’t move, can’t think, just a blubbering mess begging him for more. Without warning you push the dildo all the way in, throwing your head back with a pleasured scream. 

Carmy gasps, hips sputtering and losing their rhythm as he watches you fuck yourself. He’s stroking himself at the same pace you’re moving the dildo, imaging it’s you he’s fucking into. Picturing you laid under him, your breasts covered in hickies because he hates the idea of these… Perverts watching you get off. He wants to mark you, claim you as his. His balls are tightening and he can’t think of the last time he came this quick. It’s almost embarrassing - What are you doing to him? 

Your free hand comes up to shove two fingers in your mouth, lewdly sucking them for the camera. The sucking noise now accompanying the wet, addictive sounds of your pussy being fucked. Carmen whimpers, actually fucking whimpers, and twists his wrist over his cock to get a little more friction. Your voice hits him once again as you slide your wet fingers out of your mouth and down your throat. “Oh fuck I’m so close. So, so close. Are you close, Baby? Want you to come with me.” You’re lightly choking yourself, a whining mess. 

Carmy’s aware he’s talking to an empty room but he can’t stop himself. “Fuck, oh fuck. Gonna come for you.” And his stomach coils, hips sputter, the phone falling to the bed as he has to let go of it as his orgasm washes over him. He’s slack jaw, warm cum landing on his chest and the sounds of you finishing at the same time ringing out from his phone. 

Oh he’s so fucked. 

————–——★–————

Carmy slept well for once in his life. His orgasm lulling his body to sleep, dreams filled of you. How beautiful you look sucking his cock. The way you must sound while he eats you out. And he takes his time in his dream. Tongue dragging between your folds as his rough hands hold your hips in place. You’re powerless, made to lay back and let him eat you out for his own pleasure. Tongue circling around your clit but he waits until you’re close to tears to stop teasing. He’d praise you. “Look how fucking wet you are, Princess. You’re already getting the bed wet, aren’t you? Gonna have to lick you for hours to get you all cleaned up. Can you say please, huh? Ask me to suck on your clit, Baby. You know you need it.” 

He woke up hard and overstimulated, rolling over onto his stomach and pathetically dragging his hips against the warm bed to get some much needed friction along his cock. Carmy’s telling himself how pathetic this is and forcing himself to push off the bed and get into the shower before he’s late. 

Yes, he jacked off in the shower before work. 

He had to. 

Carmy can’t decide if it’s heaven or hell when he walks in to see you standing in the kitchen. 

You’re on your tiptoes, balancing haphazardly as you’re reaching up to change the light. There’s a wobbly step stool under you. Everyone keeps saying it needs to be replaced but it continues to live on. Your face is scrunching up in concentration. Carmy’s chuckling at the sight and ignoring the way he feels his balls tug at the sight of you. “What’re you doing there, Chef?” 

You huff in annoyance, finally untwisting the light cover from the ceiling. “Damn light went out right as I started veggie prep. Hate to be a bother but will you come spot me while I’m up on this thing? I’ve seen Fak bust his ass one too many times to trust it.” 

Carmy can’t verbally respond at first, instead stalking over to stand next to you. His hand comes up to cup the back of your knee and he’s lying to himself saying it’s for your own safety. To keep you balanced. “Yea well something tells me you’re less clumsy than Fak. I’ve seen that guy fall over while just standing still.” 

And you laugh. 

You laugh. At him. At his joke. He, Carmen Berzatto, made you laugh. The sound filling his ears and now his damn heart and balls are both reacting to you and what the hell is he supposed to do with all these emotions. 

“Don’t distract me up here, Chef.” He doesn’t mind taking commands from you. Silently reaching up to hold the light fixture you’re passing him as you change gears to switch out the lightbulbs now. 

And maybe his eyes are wandering around the kitchen to see who else might catch a glimpse of you two together. Everyone who’s in so far is honed in on their prep task and Carmy thanks God that Richie hasn’t shown up yet today. 

He’s become quite faithful since he started falling for you it seems. 

It happens, by chance, that you feel a little unsteady and Carmen tightens his grip on the back of your leg. Fingers digging into your soft skin. He’s looking down at the stool to make sure it’s level before looking up to take in the sight that is his hand around your leg. 

And he stops looking there. 

Okay fine that’s a fucking lie - he’s looking up. Eyes trailing up your thighs, following along the curve of your ass. When you have to lean forward just slightly to twist in the light cover he’s convinced he can see the outline of your pussy through the thin material of your leggings. He’s contemplating his options - If he could, would he lean in and lick over the outline? His warm mouth teasing you through your leggings. Through your underwear. Are you wearing underwear? He’s torn between picturing you with or without them. 

Or would he slide his hand up your leg, palming your thigh as he goes. Cupping over you and dragging his middle finger across the shape of you. Memorizing the feeling. Would you whine? Grind down against his hand? He doesn’t think you’d shoo his touch away. 

God he just knows you’re a needy little thing. 

He wonders what it would feel like for you to lick your own wetness from his jaw after he’s decided he’s done savoring you. To taste you on your own tongue when he kissed you after. You’d look so pretty with his cum dripping down your lips too. All fucked out and exhausted and full of bliss. 

“Okay, I think I got it fixed, Carmy.” God, he’s so fucked for thinking of you like this as you’re innocently changing the light. Just trying to improve the kitchen and he’s thinking about ruining you. He was so caught up in daydreaming that he didn’t even feel you take the light cover back out of his hand and screw it into place again. 

You’re beaming down at him, using his shoulders as arm rests as you bounce down from the stepping stool. His hand grazes your ass - A total accident. He swears it. You reach behind him to sit the screwdriver down, your chest firmly against his. Nothing thinking anything of the personal space violation as you’re used to it from so many slammed nights in the kitchen. 

“Thank you for helping me. Sorry it was basically just five minutes of my ass in your face.” Carmy chokes. 

His cheeks are hot. 

Fuck is he blushing? 

He’s sputtering out of his words. “It uh, it wasn’t in my face. Not that I looked, y’know. Just uh… Just - just trying to say that I’m happy to help.” He sounds like an idiot

You’re cocking an eyebrow, clearly entertained. “Holy shit, Carmy.” You pat your hands against his chest, not knowing your touch was like fire on his skin. He grabs the screwdriver and makes a beeline to the office to put it away for you. 

Sure he grabbed a rag on the way. No it’s not for him to jack off into while he thinks of you. 

Okay fine, it is. 

“Fuck me.” The only thing Carmy can risk trying to say as the door shuts heavy behind him and his pants hit the ground. 

———————–★–———

Carmen doesn’t avoid you now but he certainly makes it hard to get close to you. He’s too distracted when you’re around. Maybe there’s a bit of guilt mixed in too at his new night routine. Leave the restaurant, load your page, and wait to see what happens. New videos? New pictures? You were wormed into the back of his brain and it had to stop. 

So your station got moved further down rotation. You’re at the end of the line on the left, he’s at the start on the right. It helps clear his mind, lets him hone in on perfecting what goes to the floor. 

He’s able to move quickly, shifts blowing by as the restaurant’s rush takes all his attention. The clock clicks down two minutes till close, everyone working in silence to get the place flipped and go home. He’s wrapping up with Syd, helping her make a few adjustments to expo before grabbing a dead plate off of the end of the line and heading to the office with his food and a cup of water in hand. He needs a mental minute, a bite of food, and to let his thoughts all catch up. 

The door’s already cracked and he’s halfway through the entry way when he registers you. Sitting there. At his desk. Your legs are crossed, a cool damp towel resting over your eyes. He wants to turn on his heel and retreat but decides that he can’t treat you any differently just because he’s developed some silly little crush. Running away would be treating you different. 

“You good, Chef?” 

To which you groan. Different from the ones he’s used to - This one is guttural, pained. You press your hands flat against the rag and will the cool temperature to help the pressure in your head. “Killer migraine, that’s all. Shit was moving so fast tonight and I wacked the back of my head on something in the walk in. Sorry for being in here, Carm. Just uh, needed a second.” You should push up out of the chair, show your respect. But right now you’re half convinced that standing up would be detrimental so for now you’re cemented to the seat. 

“Heard.” Carmen nods to himself, sitting down the plate before opening up the desk drawer as quietly as possible. Your knee is pressing into the side of his thigh, grounding and warm. He fishes out a bottle of medicine, shaking out two pills. “Hold out your hand.” 

You take a second to brace yourself for movement, sitting up and moving the towel off your eyes. Letting it pile up into a clump on the desk besides you. There’s no way around it - You look pitiful. Pouting up at Carmen as he hands over two pills and his cup out water. You take the pills diligently, taking a few gulps and letting your eyes fall back closed as you will them to kick in instantly. “Can I ask a favor?” 

“Anything, Chef.” 

Slowly, so not to shake yourself up, you turn the chair until your back is to Carmen. “Will you see if I gotta bump back there? Kinda terrified I gave myself a concussion but I don’t wanna believe it was that hard.” 

He snickering, a grin pulling up the corners of his mouth as he steps closer. “Well you’d absolutely fuck me if you needed to file workmen’s comp so I’m gonna need you to be fine, ‘kay? Way too much fuckin’ paperwork to do on a Friday night.” You start to laugh but it’s quickly cut off into a small groan of appreciation as you feel warm, rough hands clasp either side of your shoulders. 

Carmen works his way up your neck and catches himself holding his breath as his fingers brush along your scalp. He’s taking his time, savoring the moment, all under the pretense of taking care of his employee. That’s all. “Think we’re both in the clear. You feeling alright besides the headache? Need me to hold up some fingers for ya to guess? Haven’t managed to cut any off so we’ve got all ten to work with.” He’s got you laughing again while rough fingers work their way back down to your neck. The feeling of the vibration of your laughter against his hands sending chills down his back. 

Wordlessly Carmen gets to work rubbing your shoulders. Tender, deep. Years of practice rolling out dough and desserts and tenderizing meat coming into play as he continues to knead away at your tense body. You let out an appreciative moan and Carmen has to start thinking of something to keep his inevitable hard on from being obvious. 

When his hands come up closer to your neck once again he’s hit with flashbacks of the first video he watched. You choking yourself — Is that something you truly liked? If his hand came around to cup your throat, palm resting on one side with his fingertips firmly against the other, and lightly squeezed would you moan? Rub your thighs together in search of some hint of relief? 

“Are you always this good with your hands, Chef? Hmm? Can’t imagine you giving Marcus this treatment.” You’re laughing and can practically hear the smirk in Carmen’s voice as he responds. “Yeah - You uh, didn’t know that? I just love you know, rubbing shoulders. It’s my thing. Kick your ass all night and then rub the stress out.” 

He’s blanching a little at his reply. Kinda obvious but okay then, Carmen. You reach up, putting your hands atop his with a little smile. “Well thank you for… Rubbing my stress out, Chef.” 

Carmen’s red. Head to toe just bright red. “Of course, Chef. Anytime.” He’s entertaining to say the least as you pat his hands before spinning around in his chair. You snag another drink of water, throwing him a wink before moving to exit the office. Your hand runs along his chest, an appreciative gesture, as you head back to the floor. 

——————————★–

Late Saturday night Carmen’s so exhausted that he barely has the energy to take his work clothes off. Falling haphazardly onto his old couch, kicking his work boots off one at a time. His eyes are heavy, body aching, and he almost falls asleep before he gets to see you. 

But he’s fishing his phone from his pocket, refreshing the all too familiar landing page to see you’re actively live. How you have the energy is beyond him. 

You’re standing there trying on clothes that someone must send in and Carmy feels a pang of jealousy. He’s watching through half hooded eyes as you slip in a pair of shorts, turning your behind towards the camera and pulling them up just slightly to put more of your ass on display. You’re chatting away about the material while slowly pulling them down to reveal just this frilly little pair of panties that was sent in as well. 

He’s propping the phone up on the armrest of the couch, laying on his side while he watches you chat away. It’s soothing. Almost like an ASMR video. 

Carmen’s not sure when he fell asleep - Somewhere in-between you trying on a third outfit and attempting to clean up your bed from all the packaging. He finds you soothing, comforting. He makes a mental note to hunt out some sort of wish list you must have for these items before passing out and, once again, dreaming of you.

[hotpinkstars]

i need some wriothesley pregnancy drabbles there's seriously not enough of those yet...

-> pregnancy

synopsis -> a rundown of your pregnancy with wriothesleys baby, and how supportive he is.

warnings -> pregnancy, mentions of crying and screaming, mentions of labor

w/c -> 968

wriothesley didn’t really remember the day you constantly started asking for hugs and cuddles. and the day he realized that cuddling you in the ways easiest to him are no longer an option. and, the day he knew that you wouldn’t be able to handle yourself without his help. 

yes, you’re pregnant, but sometimes he wonders if you even understand that he’s the one working here! and because he’s working, he can’t give you what you want 24/7. you do understand that though, but you just can’t help it! your hormones have changed so much over the past few months that now you feel like a needy wreck who constantly needs her husband to be touching her in some way. 

and on the other end, you feel like wriothesley doesn’t understand why you’re so needy. obviously, you can tell him why, but he won’t be able to relate. he’s a man, he can’t carry a child. and sometimes, you get mad at him for that, and so on.

but on the frequent occasions that he puts his work down for even just a few minutes to focus his attention onto you, you’re content. and he’s happy if you are. 

whether it’s a long hug, snuggling into his side and resting your eyes on the couch, or cuddling him in bed, he’ll be up for it if he’s not necessarily doing anything. he doesn’t mind putting his work down for you, but it’s not possible to leave rather important matters alone just so he can satisfy his pregnant wife. 

he knows you’re no longer able to get good sleep at night- he’s up with you through the majority of it. so, he just tries to cuddle you to at least make you feel a little better, considering he knows how much you want to just lay down, forget about the world around you, and breathe in his refreshing scent. it’s one of the only smells you can stand at this point. 

and, he mostly welcomes you when you come over to his side of the desk, and try your hardest to sit yourself on the edge of it. to say you normally get whatever you want whenever you want it is an understatement. 

when it was earlier on in your pregnancy, your clinginess seemed a lot easier to manage, he thinks. he’d just sit you down on his lap and rub your back. but later on, he can’t do that, making your neediness a little more challenging to relieve. he knows he’s going to have to take that work leave soon. 

but, don’t fret, he’s fantastic at massages. whether it’s in the bathtub, before bed, or even in the middle of the night, where you wake him up with a pool of tears in your eyes. his back and neck massages are great, but his calf and foot massages are to die for.

once, you woke him up at around 2 in the morning. at that point, you could be considered heavily pregnant, nearing that 40 week mark, and in obvious discomfort on the daily. you woke up with a charley horse, and had no way of ridding the pain by yourself. 

he’s used to you waking him up like this, so without opening his eyes, he rolled over and started massaging the soreness out of your leg. it felt absolutely heavenly, and lulled you into a shallow sleep. for now, at least, until you need to get up and use the restroom for the 80th time that night. 

poor guy will be so nervous when he comes home from work and finds you bent over the counter, breathing in and out while swaying your hips back and forth. he knew it was labor, he knew he’d have to bring you to sigewinne so she can either send you up to the overworld or deliver your baby herself, and he knew that you two were going to be parents in the next few days.

he prays your labor is the most peaceful it can be, but he soon found that there is no such thing as an epidural in the medicinal part of the fortress. it was the closest place he could take you, and relatively one of the nicest. the whole medical wing besides the simple cots sigewinne has in her room was likely the nicest part of the fortress (besides your living quarters), with a nice, clean look and the pearly white floors and walls, and could be compared to a regular hospital. 

and get this, the maternity wing was the nicest wing of the whole entire building. most people didn’t know about this secret hospital in the deepest parts of the fortress, where its mainly used for prisoners who came in pregnant and their sentence will end after their due date and surgical procedures by nurses hired on by sigewinne with the approval of wriothesley.

you were so glad that you two were immediately given the nicest room and the best nurses, who helped you as best as possible while you went through unmedicated labor. it was a grueling process, tears leaving even wriothesleys eyes every single time you screeched in pain while a particularly bad contraction hit your body like a semi truck. and considering how long it went on, your husband thought he’d pass out.

after a horrifying 34 hour labor, you were with your baby at last. at this point your legs were numb and you felt exhausted, taking a nice nap while your wriothesley held your newborn.

that day was one of the only times you’ve seen him cry in your whole life, and you wonder if he’s ready for your upcoming pregnancy announcement, nearly 3 years after the last one.

[shintaru]

One piece | cuddling head canons pt.2

pt.1

Nico Robin

Likes when you fall asleep on her shoulder

loves reading while sitting in your lap

will fall asleep reading a book in your arms

let’s you sleep in. She’ll lay wrapped up in your embrace and just watch you sleep peacefully

Every since you brought up cuddling she doesn’t like sleeping alone

Nami 

Likes holding you tightly when she misses you

loves waking up in your arms it reminds her she’s safe

will wear your clothes to bed

let’s you sneak in her room to sleep in her bed

Pillow stealer, you always wake up without a pillow to find out that she has it

Shanks

Likes waking up next to you

loves having you straddle his lap

will get drunk and find you so he can cuddle with you

let’s you sleep in his shirt

Somehow always manages to lay on top of you

Portgas D’Ace 

Likes when you fall asleep on his chest, he thinks you look cute when you’re sleeping

loves when it’s cold outside he uses it as a excuse to cuddle with you. He tell’s you that he can keep you warm.

will be a blushing mess. He acts all confident at first but when it comes down to it he’s a nervous wreck.

Sometimes he puts his hat on your head when you fall asleep in weird positions because he thinks you look hilarious

If you’re eating while cuddling expect him to fall asleep mid sentence or mid eating. Don’t worry too much he’ll get back up eventually

Vivi Nefertari 

Likes being the big spoon

loves waking up and seeing you asleep next to her

Will alternate between big and small spoon she doesn’t care as long as she can cuddle you

let’s you play with her hair while she lays on your chest

If you sleep over and you end up in separate rooms she’ll often come and check on you before she decides to sleep in your room next to you

Crocodile 

Likes kissing your forehead when you lay beside him

loves teasing you a lot and laughing at your reactions. Ex: will place his hands on your thigh rubbing the inner part of your thigh with his thumb knowing what it does to you and will just randomly walk away after that and laugh.

will cover you up with his coat if you forget to grab blankets when you cuddle

let’s you sit on his lap

You can always smell a strong lingering scent of the cigars he smokes

not a head canon but imagine how hot it would be for him to drag his cold hook against your jawline while pulling your chin up to look at him 😭

[loveshotzz]

Favorite Part

steve harrington x fem!reader

🎵I’m tangled in his arms, this is my favorite part, suddenly there’s no worries anymore. 🎵

summary: In the middle of the night, you and steve miss each other.

word count: 1.5k

warnings: 18 + soft semi desperate spooning smut with no plot besides that you and steve had a long week apart, mentions of ass play (fem receiving), dirty talk, cream pie.

author’s note: adjusting to new meds has made writing not come easy, this little blurb is to help me get back into the swing of this. I hope you enjoy 🥹

Your bedroom was dark when you opened your eyes, nothing but the deep purple haze of the late night and the soft glow of street lights in the distance illuminating your four walls. The big tree outside your window dances shadows across your blinds, the low hum of wind carrying what’s left of the storm with it. You loved it best like this, surrounded by him, he’s warm like the sun that was somewhere shining on the other side of the planet, soft with sleep and the smell of spearmint fresh on his breath. The rich pine of his body wash still lingers on his skin from the shower you shared before climbing in bed too tired for anything but sleep. The rain tapping against your window in just the right rhythm to send you both into your dreams.

Your naked limbs lay tangled under the sheets, the dark patch of hair on his chest tickles against the dip of your back with every deep breath your boyfriend takes. The blunt edges of his nails digging into the soft flesh of your hips when he stirs like something exciting is happening to him in whatever place he’s lost in behind his shifting lids. A low puff of air exhales through his parted lips, fanning hot across the nape of your neck, goosebumps rising in its wake while his nose nudges against the shell of your ear. A tight grip by his big hands pulls you closer, strong arms caging you in. You wonder if he’s awake now, like you.

It’s only when you feel the softest press of his lips against your hairline that you know he is. Pushing deeper into his chest, he hums low in approval, wrapping himself even tighter around you, muscles flexing under a sea of freckles. His skin was tanner than usual from the beginnings of the summer sun and you swear you can still feel the heat it left behind while your fingertips trace invisible lines. Lulling your head back to rest against his shoulder, you open your neck up for more, enticing a path for his lips to go. You feel him smile, the stubble on his jaw a little more noticeable as he lights a fire inside of you with each kiss, the sweetness from before becoming a little more hungry when you grind against his hard length pressed between your ass.

“Sweet girl.” His voice is low with a warning he doesn’t mean, the hand on your hip working its way down to grab at the soft meat of your thigh, squeezing, encouraging.

Rolling your hips again, he palms the side of your ass cheek, his own hips meeting yours, his tip catches the entrance you’d only let him explore with his tongue or sometimes a thumb while he’d make you come undone. He taunts you with it, pushing just enough to have you whine, wiggling against him for more.

“That feels good, baby?” His lips brush against your ear with every word, nodding dumbly, the sleep is still so thick in his voice makes your eyes roll in the back of your head. “Is this where you want me?”

“Steve.” You huff already tired of his teasing, he chuckles in between sucking purple bruises where the one’s he’d left before had faded.

His palm curves under your knee to hook your leg over his hip and you can’t find it in yourself to be embarrassed when your thighs pull apart sticky, a disbelieving groan leaving his throat when his cock slides heavy between your slick lips. He can feel how wet you are from just a little bit of his teasing.

“Honey,” He sounds wrecked when he talks again, pulling your leg even farther back so his tip can catch your clit with just the right amount of pressure to make you gasp. “Were you dreamin’ about me or somethin’?”

Maybe you were, you couldn’t remember, not when he starts circling your entrance, your walls fluttering around his head with anticipation.

“Please,” your voice sounds small, pleading, as the week of not seeing your boyfriend starts to all hit you at once. “Missed you so much, please, I need it.” It sounds like you're throwing a fit as all of it starts to feel like too much and he’s not even giving you enough.

“Shhh, I got you, I got you. I’ll always give you what you want, so sweet for me. Asking so nice baby.” He coos in your ear, his words dripping with honey as he lines himself up, your back arching against him as he inches in slow enough for you to adjust to the big stretch.

It’s like warm silk the way you wrap around him, your walls giving into him no matter how impossible it always seemed at first. Whispered words of I missed you’s, and I love you’s flow freely from his wet lips while you take him to the hilt. The thick patch of hair that frames his base rubbing against your clit in a way that has you keening.

“Fuuuuck.” He huffs, his forehead pressing to your shoulder, his cock twitching against your muscles that flutter and constrict around him. Stilling your hips with a firm hold you can tell he’s trying hard not to cum.

He leaves lazy kisses along your back when he finally starts to move, he’s slow, taking his time so you can feel all of him. Every ridge and curve takes up space, stealing your breath with each punch to the spot only he can find. The tip of his nose runs along the back of your neck while his palm finds a new home on the swell of your breast, your nipples peaking instantly just for him.

“Takin’ me so well, look at you. Always so good to me baby.” His praise only adds to the lewd noises filling the room, sliding in and out of you with the kind of ease he usually only gets after he’s made you cum a few times. Steve feels like he might lose his mind.

You whine a little when he pinches your nipple, your own hand reaching behind to sink your fingers into his hair. You needed to kiss him. He obliges, always picking up on exactly what you want. What you need. His bottom lip connects with your top one in a messy way, the power of his thrusts making it hard for anything more than this. Panting into each other’s mouths, your tongues find each other, licking dirty in the middle. The animalistic need for each other finally comes to a head, when two of his fingers find your puffy ignored clit.

“Babbbyyy.” You're so loud and he loves the way you sound like you’re gonna cry, tightening around him like a vice.

His lips tug up in a smirk when he nods against your open mouth, silently telling you he knows. You make a mess of his fingers that circle the bundle of nerves with just the right amount of pressure to make your toes curl and your eyebrows pinch together.

“You wanna cum for me?” He sounds strained, teetering the edge like you despite the confidence of his words, his hips stuttering to prove it.

“P- please.” Your response makes him groan, his fingers picking up their pace as you meet each thrust with just as much vigor desperate to reach your high. White hot heat fills your insides as your body starts to come apart, the sound of your sweat slick skin smacking together bouncing off your walls.

“Saying please like that is gonna me cum too, you want that? You want it baby?” He eggs you on as your head falls back, your jaw going slack when he circles his hips hitting the deepest spot inside of you. “Say please one more time for me, come on.”

He’s practically growling for you to give him what he wants. A fucked out “please!” falling from your trembling lips before your body goes limp in his arms overwhelmed by all of him as your orgasm starts to rip through you like a tidal wave.

Your vision blurs from the intensity of it, mouth open in a silent scream as tears prick the corners of your eyes. He stills to paint your insides, burying his face in the crook of your neck as he bites down on your pulse point to keep from crying out. His whole body trembling against yours as he pulls you impossibly close. You’ve never felt so full, as he slowly starts to leak out.

An aftershock causes you to flutter, making him hiss against your bruised skin overstimulated by the intensity of it all before he’s finally soft enough to slip out of you. The sleepiness from after the shower returns to both of your spent bodies as he nuzzles his face back into you making no moves to untangle himself.

“I really missed you.” He mumbles, pressing a tender kiss to his favorite spot behind your ear.

“I really missed you too Stevie.” You hum content, the sound of the storm returning filling the quiet again.

[aikuse]

hello! I’m so happy to see more wind breaker content it feeds my fan girl soul. may I request suo hayato sleeping headcanons please? a million thanks if you do 🫶

-> sleeping angel | 708 words. gn!reader, really just fluffy nonsense.

author’s notes: i feel like this guy just doesn’t sleep, and he’s not a napper, so when he does nap/sleep, that mf is EXHAUSTED. it’s tiring telling white lies every day :/ LMAO, enjoy!

I have a strong feeling that Suo is not a big sleeper. He doesn’t really seem to get tired, and he’s always on alert even though he makes you seem like he’s not. It’s so hard to creep around him, because he’ll pop up with a smile on his face and a “where you going, darling?” falling from his lips.

He does sleep with you at night, of course, but you’ve noticed he spends more time staring up at the ceiling instead of curling up with you and falling asleep. His brain gears moving are so loud for you that you end up barely sleeping, too worried about him and what he could possibly be thinking about. You don’t comment on it at first, as its really not your place, but as your relationship gets more serious, you can’t help but ask.

“Why don’t you sleep with me at night?” you blurt out over dinner once. The silence that follows has your face reddening in embarrassment, looking down at your food to avoid Suo's gaze. When you do look back up, he’s staring at you with an appreciation that makes your heart flutter. He closes his eyes with a smile, his head slightly tilting to the side. “How did you notice?” he asks, and you sigh, your fork clinking against the plate as you lean back, arms folding across your chest. You didn’t want to tell him this, but he’s driven you to it, and you need to be honest; your sleep is being affected. “I can’t sleep with you thinking so loudly,” you say, gently, as if worried he’ll snap at you, “and I want to know what’s wrong. You know, so I can help you. It’s okay to ask, Suo.”

His eyes go wide, then, and the smile drops to an expression of shock. It’s almost like he didn’t know that you were up all those nights, because you hid it so well. That, or he was too busy thinking about himself, as usual. “I’m sorry,” he says, reaching across the table and grabbing your hand, “I just don’t sleep very well. I get nightmares and I don’t want to wake you up.” He looks genuinely upset that he’s wrecked your sleeping schedule, and that expression is something you can’t deny. You sigh, squeezing his hand. “Alright. But you need to start sleeping. I don’t care if you have nightmares, I’ll help you through them. I’m here to help you, okay? Please don’t forget that.”

His nightmares, you discover, are horrendous. He’s constantly sweating, cursing under his breath, twitching and squirming; but you’d rather him go through this than not sleep at all. You often curl around him, petting his hair and kissing his forehead, whispering sweet nothings into his ear. You know he can’t really hear you, but feeling him relax into you, eventually, is more rewarding than anything else. He doesn’t talk about the subject of them, and you don’t need to know; he’ll tell you when he wants to.

Now that he’s sleeping better with you, his nightmares not occurring every night the longer you snuggle with him and take care of him, he doesn’t nap much anymore. Although, sometimes you’ll find him on the couch, his phone at risk of falling out of his hand, a silly video of Sakura and Nirei playing on it. His gentle breaths fan against the hair falling into his face, and you brush it out of the way as you press a kiss to his forehead. He’ll smile in his sleep, too; he knows it’s you.

You have so many photos of him sleeping in odd positions when he does end up taking a nap; one of them is him curled up in a chair like a cat, another is him spread-eagled across the couch leaving a fraction of space for you to sit to watch a movie, and yet another is him sleeping on a bus with you, cheek pressed against the window, eyelashes flat against his cheeks. You rotate them with your phone home screen wallpaper; the Furin boys eventually take notice, but say nothing. Suo would have their heads if they did; you are his exception.

divider credit: @/benkeibear networks: @enchantedforest-network

disclaimer: DO NOT copy or repost my works for any reason. translations are acceptable, but please ask for permission first!

© togamest 2023-2024

[m2ok]

Golden Salvation Pt.3

Pt.1 Pt.2

Cowboy!ghost x m!reader

A/N: The final part is here !! This series has been so fun to do that part of me wants to do another cowboy AU but with Price. I might do some smaller fics first, we’ll see. Anyways! Enjoy my loves! Mwah mwah 

Simon slept late into the next morning, lost to the world in a rare moment of utter relaxation. Skin scrubbed clean of its usual dirt and stubble, he looked almost boyish - troubled brow smoothed, dense frame gone lax in your arms. An image of vulnerable peace you’d wager few had witnessed in all his storied years. 

Stirring faintly as you subtly moved, Simon nestled closer with a contented sigh, arm reflexively tightening its protective hold around your frame as if even in his sleep he sought to shield you from further harm. 

Exhaustion had etched itself deep in him, but in the dull light seeping past lowered lashes you could see shadows beginning to fade from his features. A sight to lift even the most wounded soul’s spirit, seeing one who guarded others so staunchly finally finding solace in another’s care. 

You would smile softly as you ran your thumb across his brow, smoothing away the rest of his worries as you cupped his cheek. You were careful not to wake him with the gentle touches, content to just watch him slumber for as long as he chooses.

You felt lucky to see him like this, and a large part of you thought taking a bullet was worth it. To be able to see him so relaxed and content was something you never thought you would be able to witness. It was like the eighth wonder of the world seeing him so…at ease. 

You were hopelessly in love with this man, feelings that ran so deep it almost ached to feel them entirely. Your heart was filled to the brim with absolute adoration for Simon, and it was the one thing in your life you knew would never change, you would always be his. 

Simon began to stir slowly as if sensing your tender gaze, even submerged in dreams. Blearily his eyes flickered open to meet your smiling face, and for a moment he simply blinked in bemused confusion - as if certain this couldn't be real. 

But no, you were there. Warm and soft and smiling down at him like he was some kind of miracle himself. It still struck him dumb sometimes, the purity of your emotion shining through despite all he’s put you through. That you could look upon a wreck of a man like him and feel anything close to what swelled in his own heart. 

Wordlessly, Simon reached up to lightly brush calloused knuckles against your cheek, drinking in every beloved feature like a dying man granted water. He didn’t deserve your forgiveness. Didn’t deserve the love shining in your eyes, warming him through like sunlight, but he'd be damned if he wasn’t going to spend every last day making sure you never regretted giving him a place beside you. 

“Mornin’, Sunshine,” he rumbled, voice sleep-rough but smoldering with intent. Leaning up to capture your lips in a gentle kiss, Simon silently swore to spend his every waking moment showing you just how much you meant to him. 

You would smile softly into the kiss, languid and slow in order to make up for lost time. It was only when you both needed to breath that you pulled away, a smile on your lips and eyes crinkled in happiness as his taste lingered on your tongue. You ran a hand through his bed tousled hair with a soft hum.

“Good morning, Si. Slept well, hm?”

Simon stretched out with a groan, nuzzling into your gentle touch like an oversized housecat. Your presence alone was enough to chase the last clinging shards of dreams from his mind, grounding him fully in this blessed moment. 

“Mm, best sleep I’ve had in ages, darlin’,” he rumbled, pressing a lingering kiss to your palm. 

Meeting your gaze steadily, Simon spoke softly, “from here on out, you’ll have me guardian’ your rest same as your safety. Ain’t no one gonna lay so much as a finger on you again, not while I still draw breath.” A gentle brush of calloused thumbs swept away imaginary tears, etching promise into your skin.

“Im settlin’ down for good, if you’ll have me,” always cautious of hoping, but trusting you to see straight to what lived beneath scar and grit. 

Your heart stuttered at his words, nearly stopping as you took a minute to take in his statement. 

“If I’ll have you,” you laughed softly, “as if I’ve ever wanted anything more.” Your words were firm, no space for him to think twice about the truth behind what you were saying. 

Simon’s brows hiked in delight and disbelieving relief at your response. A brilliant, boyish grin broke across weathered features - for once unburdened by ghosts of his bloody past. 

“Then I’m yours, darlin’. Mind, body and soul.” He pledged fervent promises between peppered kisses. “Gonna make you so happy you’ll forget I was ever nothin’ but a no-good outlaw.”

Rolling fluidly, Simon maneuvered your form beneath his bigger one, caging you safely in rough hands and walls of corded muscles. Gazing down at your beauty with something akin to wonder in whiskey eyes, he pressed his brow to yours. 

“My light. My home,” he rumbled, pure affection sending shivers down your spine. Happiness felt strange on features so used to scowls - but by God, Simon was going to savor every sweet moment for all he was worth. 

You giggled softly at his words and the ticklish feeling of his hasty kisses on your skin, a warm smile near permanent on your lips as you soaked up all the love you had missed out on these past years. 

With a brain too fuzzy with pure affection, you spoke words you’d been wanting to for years, “I reckon we head North.” You said, heart once again speeding up as you realized the gravity of your words, you continued, though with waning confidence, “We could find a small plot of land - build ourselves a nice little home and a small barn and coop.” You were rambling as you reached under his arm to grab an envelope tucked into the bedside drawer, “these past couple of months without you here..I’ve been takin’ extra shifts at the saloon. Reckon I’ve got enough here for all that if we’re careful,” you said, hands shaking with fear of rejection as you held out the envelope as if worried he wouldn’t believe you. 

Simon’s eyes widened into saucers at your proposition, heartbeat stuttering to a gallop in his heaving chest. For a long moment he could only stare in disbelief - scarcely daring to hope this was real. But then your shy explanation sunk in, washing over him with such a profound surge of pride and love he thought surely his seams would burst. All this time spent in your light, you’d been preparing your future without him even having a clue of knowing. Trusting that in hope when he’d scarcely trusted in himself. 

Without warning Simon was clutching you tight against his pounding heart, raining desperate kisses across your sweet face near frantic with tender emotion. “Darlin’ you- this is more’n I ever dreamed could be mine,” he choked, rough thumbs wiping away tears he didn’t remember shedding. 

Pulling back just enough to claim your lips in a long, slow glide of unbridled joy, Simon poured every ounce of reverence, gratitude, and love into the kiss for your blessing him so. “North it is, my light - and I’ll spend the rest of my days makin’ you proud of me.”

You would gasp at his sudden movement, holding on tight to him as he peppered kisses across your smiling face before eventually catching your lips with his. 

With a soft, relaxed sigh you melted into the kiss, body melting in his hold as you looked up at him with shining eyes. You would cup his face, his cheeks squishing under your hold to create an almost laughable look as you moved your thumbs gently across scarred cheeks with loving ministrations. 

“Was hoping you’d say that,” you whispered, giddy with the thought of starting a new life with this man. 

Simon grinned unrepentantly down at you, “and what would I say but yes to the sweetest darlin’ this side of creation?” he rumbled, nuzzling fondly into your palm like some great, affectionate bear. 

“North we’ll go then, just as soon as you’re on your feet,” Simon declared, pressing a lingering kiss to your brow. His hands swept reverently down your sides, lingering protectively over the slowly healing wound before tipping your chin up to meet his steady gaze. 

“I’ll start preppin’ for the trip straightaway, and you just focus on getting your strength back, y’hear?” Low and intent, brooking no argument - but shining with a tenderness to disguise any threat in his words. 

You would nod at his firm words, tucking yourself under his chin, “Can’t wait to see the mountains… and the pretty trees.” You said with a happy sigh, “oh! And snow! We’ll have to get cold weather gear - add that to your list.” You said as you grinned up at the man.

Simon listened with rapt attention, holding you close as vision of your bright future danced before his eyes. 

“Snow, eh? Can’t say I’ve seen much of that white stuff before…” He mused thoughtfully, already calculating additions to be made to your little home to withstand Northern winters. Wool blankets aplenty, a sturdy chimney, thick oak doors - he’d ensure not a single draft could creep past your cozy walls. 

“We’ll have the warmest cabin this side of the mountain, darlin’ - not a soul we’ll envy, I promise ya that.” Calloused fingers carded gently through your hair. 

“Cabin or not, there ain’t a soul I envy as long as I have you, Simon.” You said almost immediately, words tumbling out so fast you didn’t remember even thinking them first. 

Simon huffed a soft, affectionate laugh at your sweet words, cupping your cheek to brush a grateful kiss to your lips. 

“And I you, darlin’. More’n any future this wanderin’ soul coulda dreamed.” 

He would follow you to the end of the earth. 

“Now, you just focus on healin’, Sunshine. I’ll go rustle us up some supplies proper,” with a soft parting kiss Simon crawled out of the warmth of the bed. With a soft promise to be back quick he left the cabin, boots crunching surefooted trails into the dusty streets. Townsfolk surely sensed the change in their resident outlaw. 

True to his word, within quick hours supplies were stacked neat as you please - all necessities for your healing, the journey north, and simple homestead pleasures. Duty was done. Gently slipping back into covers rosy with sleep-warmth, he curled protectively around your rested form, home again at last where he belonged. 

The next few days were spent with careful planning, mapping out safe routes and stops for supply refills should you need them. 

The morning you were set to leave you were giddier than a child in a candy shop. While the wound still had tender healing to go through, the worst part had healed. There were a few aches here and there should you move too quickly, but nothing like the searing pain it once was. 

“I’m ready, Simon!” You said, nearly skipping over to where he was packing the carriage. 

Simon grinned wide as a cheshire at your bouncing excitement, spirits lifting further at your every sweet sound. You shone brighter than the rising sun, lighting his heavy heart like dawn breaking on winter’s gloom. 

Gently steadying the horses with practiced care, he turned brown eyes alight with warmth and promise upon your rosy face. “Then let's be off to our future, Sunshine - I got a feelin’ It’s gonna be brighter’n any we left behind” 

Kicking the team into a steady amble after climbing on, Simon settled back with a content sigh, surveying the dusty trail unfurling ahead like a red carpet rolled out just for their feet. Nothing but open sky and promise as far as the eyes could see - and each mile would bring them closer to simple joys he’d never dared dream. 

Calloused fingers found yours, tangling together in bonds stronger than any chain. With your light to lead him true, Simon swore not a demon from either hell nor earth would tear him from you. 

The journey was tiring - days spent riding along dirt roads and nights spent tucked away in the back of a little cart, straw bedding doing little to cushion against the splintered wooden planks. 

Yet you wouldn’t trade it for the world  - not with Simon by your side to keep you warm and safe, to regale you with tales of his past life and adventures. 

As you made your way through the northern mountains your body seemed to relax even more than it had been, gazing out upon the sacred land as you inched ever closer to your destination. 

Each mile marker fell away like shackles, yet still Simon was loathe to see the journey end - if only to keep your radiance shining beside him a moment more. 

Nights found him awake long after your restful breaths smoothed to dreams, watching over your slumber as stars wheeled endlessly beyond paper-thin walls. You were here, smiling still as dawn kissed snow capped pines in greeting, two weary souls near to their destination and all the hopes therein. 

By mid-morn a cheer went up as a familiar clearing broke through evergreens. Turning brown eyes bright as brandy, Simon rumbled softly, “ Welcome home, darlin’.” He said, voice near a whisper as he took in the magnificent sight in front of him. 

You would gasp as you finally reached the little plot of land, eyes wide as you took in the scene of gorgeous mountains behind and trees abound ahead. 

The plot had been cleared just enough for all you talked about, including a little garden. A perfect dreamy homestead just waiting for your caring hands to create. 

Simon let loose a rare, boyish whoop of delight at your awestruck expression, every hardship and dark deed weighing his heavy soul suddenly justified a thousand times over. 

“I know it’s a sight a bit rougher than your sunny smile, but just you wait’ll I get my hands to work!” Brown eyes gleamed with fierce passion and promise, already thinking about feats of forestry and framing his calloused fingers itched to create.

With care belying his bulky frame, Simon quickly began unpacking essentials for a cozy camp - sparse but sufficient until more permanent lodgings could be raised from rich wood. 

“For now let's get you fed and rest all proper,” he rumbled, pressing a doting kiss to your cheek. 

After a humble meal of game Simon caught and red wine from a nearby town, you both fell asleep that night happy and looking forward to the next day when you could find helping hands to start making your perfect home. 

It was about a month and a half later when you were done, with the help of many new kind folk, there standing proud and bright was a quaint cottage big enough for the two of you with a bit of extra room for hobbies. It was painted a soft shade of blue, a red wood door adorning the front and a cute little wrap around porch protecting your new shared home. 

You stood outside, hands now rough and calloused from hard work resting on your hips as you stared at the building. 

Simon slotted the final beam true, wonderment stealing his breath away as months of toil melted beneath the aching brilliance of your smile, every callus and strain of muscle well repaid. 

Striding to your side, broad hands gently encircled your waist until foreheads met in shared bliss, eyes aglow with all the tender hopes this home’s thick walls now sheltered. 

“Darlin’, I do believe we’ve gone an’ built us our own corner of heaven here,” he rumbled softly, thrilling to feel your heart swell against his in answer. No finer reward than seeing the light in your face nourished by comforts his hands had wrought. 

Too choked with tears to respond, you took his hand and stepped inside the new home. The fresh scent of cedar and pine filling your nose as you explored each and every room with child-like wonder. Simon watched with a gentle smile as you explored your new domain, following dutifully behind as he too studied each detail with a sharp painter’s eyes, mentally furnishing each bare space with memories and comforts yet to be. 

Turning you gently in well worn hands when the tour came to an end, Simon gazed upon your sweet face with all the devotion of endless skies. 

You all but smirked up at him, planting a soft kiss on his lips before encircling your arms around his neck to press warm bodies together. 

“Reckon we need to uh… christen that new bedroom of ours, hm?” You teased, a hint of something mischievous in your voice as you batted long eyelashes up at him. 

Simon let out a low chuckle, eyes already turning dark as rich barley fields at your siren’s song. Fingers trailing feather-soft along the flawless planes of cheek and jaw long dreamed of, he peered deep into eyes overflowing with all he once believed himself unworthy of. 

Scooping you up with practiced care, never breaking contact save to brush a reverent kiss to willing lips, Simon turned towards the bedroom with a purposeful stride. 

“An’ why darlin’, I reckon that’s the finest idea I’ve heard in many a year,” gently shouldering through freshly hung door to deposit treasure of beyond calculating worth amidst downy rumples waiting to cradle your joinings, Simon gazed upon the angel fate had seen fit to place within his blessed and devoted keeping. 

The night was spent with soft moans filling the room, Simon near worshiping your body as he pulled every whine and whimper he could out of your sweet lips. He was intent on showing you just how deeply he loved you, no doubt leaving you nearly unable to walk the next morning because of it. 

As you lay in the bed, the only furniture in the house, you gazed out the window with a weary yet blissful gaze - body content with the pleasure it had been blessed with before you fell asleep with a happy hum, spent bodies pressed against one another as you drifted off into a peaceful slumber. The next days and weeks would bring their own hardships, but here in this moment you were safe and full with love. With Simon holding you close and protective in his arms you were happier beyond belief, and you felt more than lucky that you would get to feel this same way for the rest of your new shared lives. You had saved Simon from damnation, your golden light pulling him from the dark. You were his salvation, his everything. 

end~

[bimobuddy]

Fizzarolli x Asmodeus TK Headcanons

I love these two so much!! If you haven't seen S2 - E6, I highly suggest you go do that right now.

These might contain spoilers, but nothing too big, I don't think

Fizzarolli

Lee:

He's a giggler!

While he usually wakes up first, on the rare days he doesn't, Ozzie will tickle him awake. Partly because he thinks the sleepy giggles are adorable, but also partly out of revenge for the air horns (it's not gonna stop Fizz from using them though)

With anyone else, he'll fight back, but with Ozzie, he enjoys it and finds it fun. He'll even go as far as to try and provoke him sometimes.

Worst spots are his sides and tail, he'll probably start flailing. If you're unfamiliar with how he reacts, it's easy for you to accidentally get swatted, but Oz knows him and knows just how to avoid the swinging limbs or wagging tail

The tip or 'blade' of his tail REALLY gets him kicking

Tummy gets him curling up and giggling, tail thumping against the floor happily

He even gets flustered and giggly when Oz starts kissing on his cheeks and forehead. Not the most ticklish place, but just enough to get him giggly and smiley

Ler:

Back when they were kids, Fizz used to go after Blitz all the time. He'd usually win most of their tickle fights

Now, his main target is Ozzie, even if he isn't able to get him most of the time, as Oz usually just turns the tables on him

With his extendable limbs, it's pretty easy for him to wrap up his victim and still get at their sides or tummy

This is usually how he gets Ozzie, the rare moments his attacks actually work

Has chased Ozzie around their room a couple times during a chaotic ler mood (Poor rooster is just such a big guy though, it's hard for him to get away)

Has only ever gotten Blitz once since they've made up, but Blitz is an assassin now and was very quick to escape and turn it back around on him

Asmodeus

Lee:

Usually isn't much of a lee, as Fizz is really the only one able to get close enough or catch him off guard

And even then, it only works if he's in the mood or if Fizz sneaks up on him

DEEP CHUCKLES DEEP LAUGH

Fizz absolutely adores his voice, especially when he laughs

He knows he could easily overpower the little imp, but why in Hell would he risk hurting his Fizzy or ruining his fun? He'd much rather sacrifice his sensitivity to Fizz to see him happy

If you get him good, he'll accidentally crow. This has only ever happened one time when Fizz snuck up on him and grabbed his hips. However it didnt last long because he IMMEDIATELY wrecked the imp afterward

Sometimes Fizz starts kissing (or even scritching under the chins of) the other two heads in Oz's fluff. It's not exactly super ticklish, but it has gotten a chuckle or two from the Prince, as it felt weird, and he'll usually gently pull Fizz away with a soft "stooop"

Worst spot is his hips

Ler:

oh boy

This man can be absolutely ruthless

It's easy for him to scoop Fizz up in one hand and tickle him with the other

If he's feeling evil, he'll go after Fizz's tail and hips

But he's also such a sweetheart though, the SECOND he hears Fizz so much as even start the word 'stop,' he stops. He'd feel so bad if he overwhelmed his little clown

When they're alone, he'll start peppering Fizz's face with little kisses, while his other two heads do the same to his neck (in a sfw way) and it gets him super flustered and giggly

Big fan of teases. He'll go for the cliché 'tickle tickle tickle,' and stuff, but he'll also make kissy noises, make that clawing hand motion right over Fizz's tummy, or make him ask for it. ("I don't understand what you want, Fizzy, you're going to have to ask")

He's got feathers, he's basically a demonic chicken man. Sometimes he molts (sheds) his feathers too. (see where I'm going with this?)

When he loses his feathers, all he's gotta say is, "You know, Fizzy, it's molting season," and the imp is either immediately running away or hopping up into his lap for the gentle tickles.

Just like Fizz, he gets chaotic Ler moods too. He can and WILL chase or hunt down his partner, which is sometimes a challenge. Yes, he might be bigger, but Fizz is also very good at outmaneuvering him

But jokes on Fizz, this just makes the attack worse when Ozzie finally catches him

On mornings when they don't have to work, when Fizz goes to get up and out of bed, Ozzie will just hold him close to his chest, not letting him up, and give morning tickles

[lumosinlove]

@oknutzy-week-2024 day four!!!

Write Me In

Part Two

Leo tried very hard not to be early. He really did. Then he ended up walking around Finn and Logan’s block about six times and sweating in the heat. He was stupid. He should have just worn a t-shirt. From what it sounded like, they were only just waking up. He didn’t need to be in this dark blue button down.

When it finally hit two o’clock, Leo let himself walk into the lobby. The doorman looked up and called him by his name, taking Leo by such surprise that he had to stutter through a yes, sir as if he was back home in New Orleans.

“Mr. O’Hara’s expecting you,” the man said. “You can go right up.”

The elevator was all mirrors and gold and Leo tried to make himself look slightly less sweaty and nervous than he felt as it rose—and rose. Penthouse. He should have known. He swept his blond hair back. At least in the AC he felt cooler—if not a little flushed looking. His shirt hid any sweat and he had his laptop and recorder this time. This would be a proper interview. He’d make sure of it. After all, this was his dream.

The doors dinged open. Leo had thought he’d have a few more moments. He’d get to walk down a hallway, knock on the door.

But no. One moment he was in the small elevator, and the next he was stepping directly into a massive, open living room. It was beautiful, too. The couch was a huge low-backed leather U. A coffee table that looked like it had once been a cross section of a massive tree was covered in notebooks and a laptop. A dining room table that could hold ten rested just on the other side of the room beneath a papery light that looked more like a sculpture. To its left sat an actual bar, complete with six stools, shelves of backlit bottles, and beer taps. The wall beyond was pure window and the afternoon light slanted in. Leo didn’t see a TV, but apartments like these usually had them concealed somehow. Maybe a projector screen waiting to drop down. Maybe there was a theater room. He knew a lot of artists had recording studios right at home. Who knew how big this place was.

It was also perfectly quiet. Leo didn’t hear a sound. He felt like he was an intruder as he hesitantly stepped out of the elevator and listened to it slide shut behind him. Maybe he should’ve taken his shoes off? The rug beneath the couch was pure white and plush, and the hardwood floors beyond that were honey-colored and gleaming. Four guitars sat along one wall. Beyond the huge dining table, there was a grand piano.

How many of Leo’s favorite songs had been written in this room?

“Kind of freaks me out sometimes.”

Leo jumped and turned at the voice, only to find Finn standing there in running shorts and a t-shirt that said The Strand Bookstore. He held a sleek gray ceramic mug.

“The windows, I mean,” Finn said with a smile. “I always worry about them cracking. Sometimes they rattle during storms.”

“That’s…unsettling,” Leo said.

“Yeah, Lo hates it.”

Finn looked, yes, a little sleep-rumpled. His red hair looked like it had been styled for a photoshoot to be messy though, not like it was actually slept on. Unfair, Leo thought. His hair was a wreck in the morning. He’d been right about not needing his button-down, though. He badly wished he was in a t-shirt and that he’d worn sneakers instead of these pinching dress shoes.

“What a beautiful place, though,” Leo said. “That’s quite a view.”

Finn’s eyes wandered behind him out the window. “Yeah, I like to see the city.” He held up his mug. “Well, Lo’s fucking grumpy when he wakes up, but coffee helps. Can I get you some? I was going to order some breakfast, too.”

“Oh. Sure.”

Finn smiled and jerked his head in a way that Leo guessed meant follow me.

The kitchen was no less impressive. There were huge marble counters, slightly iridescent. A complicated looking espresso machine. Massive silver appliances—fridge, wine fridge, dishwasher, three ovens. God, what Leo could do in this kitchen.

“Wow.” Leo turned in a slow circle. “Do you like to cook?”

Finn laughed. He’d gone over to the coffee pot—probably the simplest thing in here. “If I was ever home long enough to try, I might.”

All this, and no one was even home to use it.

“And Logan’s hopeless,” Finn said. “He can make tea.”

Leo laughed. “Right.”

“Do you take milk or sugar?”

“A little milk,” Leo said, and accepted the mug. “Thank you.”

Leo sipped the coffee. It was good. Strong and nutty. It calmed him a little to hold something warm. Finn had poured the perfect amount of milk in.

“He’ll be up in a second. Or I’ll go get him.” Finn looked a little bashful. “It takes us a while to—wind down after a show, we usually don’t get to sleep until around three or four.”

After a show. Leo could see them still, pressed up against the wall in Finn’s dressing room. What the hell did wind down mean in this sentence?

“No worries,” Leo said. “Where um. Where do you guys go next?”

Are you dating your drummer? Is your drummer dating you? Do you think of him as your drummer? Or Lo? Are you best friends like you make the world believe? Are you just fucking? Are you in love?

He took a sip of coffee.

“Boston,” Finn said. “We just came back from the West Coast. Then we have about a month off before we go to Paris. Then London, then Ireland—you get the idea.”

“It must be fantastic to see all those places.”

I had your poster on my wall. You got me through some of my toughest times in high school. I can’t believe I’m seeing your smile this close up.

“It is when we have days off,” Finn said. “But mostly it’s just a grind.”

“But if you had to choose a favorite city?”

“Rome,” Finn said instantly.

“You wrote your most recent album there,” Leo said.

“Yeah.” Finn smiled down at his mug. “Yeah.”

“Leo,” Finn he said suddenly before Leo could ask another question.

Leo straightened up. Finn O’Hara just said his name. “Yeah?”

“I know…” Finn smiled a little. “We both know what you saw in my dressing room last night.”

Leo had been wondering if this would come up. Or, how, really. Finn pushed his hair back and Leo watched the strands feather forward again. He had a flush to his cheeks.

“We do,” Leo said softly. “I’m so sorry about that. Your team—one second I was following someone and the next I was at your door—”

Finn nodded sharply and Leo stopped talking. He messed with his hair again. “It’s not your fault. I’m just—what I’m trying to ask—” Finn’s eyes went somewhere behind Leo and he smiled. “Finally. He lives.”

Leo turned towards a doorway he hadn’t noticed before—it must lead to the bedrooms—to find Logan shuffling into the room wearing nothing but a pair of white socks and tight, grey boxer shorts.

Leo choked on his next sip and hurried to put the mug down. God, how could Finn not be dating that? There on Logan’s hip was that tattoo. The fleur-de-lis. Right there, real, not a photograph. It was slightly lower than Leo had thought.

“Salut,” Logan said. His voice was hoarse. “Sorry. I’m not…” he looked at Finn and put on what Leo guessed was a try at Finn’s American accent. “a morning person.”

“That you aren’t,” Finn agreed. “Even if it’s nearly three in the afternoon.”

“Hi,” Leo cleared his throat. “I mean, good morning.” He looked at Finn and pointed to his mug. “Do I need a coaster?”

Finn looked back at him quietly for a moment. He had a tilt to his head and a slight smile on his face. “No.”

“Okay. It’s just that sometimes marble stains so I wanted to check. I read this article about different ways of protecting—I mean, not that I have marble counters. But I definitely would like some. They’re beautiful. This is a beautiful kitchen.”

What the hell was he talking about?

“I’m glad someone appreciates it. We certainly don’t,” Finn said. He took down another mug from a cupboard and Leo watched as he poured the coffee, lots of milk, and even more sugar into a mug before passing it to Logan, whose fingers had been drumming idly on the counter while he waited.

The lyrics to Lucky Me popped into Leo’s head.

Let me fill you up with sugar, let me drown in sweet and sweat.

He looked at Logan and found him already watching Leo over the rim of his cup.

“Well, I don’t want to take up too much of your time. So, maybe, um. Maybe once you’re ready we can—”

Logan cut him off. “Aren’t you supposed to follow us around twenty-four-seven for a week?”

Leo swallowed. Oh. “Oh. Yes. Yeah, no, I am. I just…I want this to be as comfortable for you as possible. I don’t want to feel like an intrusion. I’m here for whatever your normal life entails.”

“Right now…” Finn was scrolling on his phone. “That’s breakfast burritos.”

Leo quickly figured out that Logan made him nervous—more than Finn. His green eyes were intense, to say the least, where Finn’s were almost unbearably gentle. Leo had thought that was all for the cameras, a look designed to be photographed. But Finn seemed to look at everyone like that. Logan, definitely. The doorman who brought up their breakfast when it arrived. Even Leo.

Finn also responded to Logan’s movements like he was just an extension of his own body. It would be impressive if Leo didn’t think it was so sweet. He arranged the sauces Logan liked in front of him, took out the bacon from his burrito and put it on his own plate, all before Logan even had time to sit down. The smile Finn received from Logan in return felt private. Intimate, even. Logan’s entire face changed when he looked at Finn. It opened up. He looked younger.

It went right back to guarded when he looked at Leo.

“All right,” Finn said after he set down water bottles for the three of them. They were sitting at a little table in a nook off the kitchen that Leo hadn’t seen before. Finn and Logan were side by side, across from him. Leo had his burrito and coffee to one side of him, and his laptop and recorder set up on the other. Finn snapped a mocking finger gun towards him. “Shoot.”

Leo hesitated. It didn’t seem like Finn was going to finish what he had been about to say to Leo. Possibly ask Leo not to write about what he’d seen? He’d stopped hard when Logan had walked in. Leo was slowly getting the sense that what he’d seen was much more than a kiss.

Maybe that was what was behind all of the looks Logan was giving him. Fear.

“Well,” Leo said, brushing crumbs off his hands. He cleared his throat. “Okay—” They were both looking at him expectantly. Well, Finn looked expectant. Logan looked a little wary. Leo’s resolve dropped. “I just want you to know that I won’t write or publish anything that you don’t approve first.”

There. That seemed like the easiest way.

The two of them exchanged a glance.

“Isn’t that a given?” Logan said flatly.

“It is,” Leo said. “But I still want it to be said first.”

He made himself hold Logan’s gaze. His eyes looked vividly green in the kitchen light.

No, you don’t—say much—but I read—your touch. You fall—I sigh—Oh my—green eyes.

“Oh,” Leo said out loud.

“What?”

Just slowly realizing that it’s possible you two only write songs about each other?

“Nothing,” Leo said. “Why don’t we begin with how you two found yourselves in a band together?”

“People already know this,” Logan said.

Leo smiled. “Yes, people do know this, but I’m not going to use someone else’s quotes in my story.”

Finn stretched his arm out across the back of the breakfast nook’s bench, behind Logan’s back. Would that have been around his shoulders if Leo hadn’t been here?

“We met in high school, started the band there. Then we had a falling out but we both got into Harvard,” Finn said. “We were matched randomly as roommates.”

It was a smooth, well-practiced answer to the absolutely wild story that Leo had heard before. It left no room for further questions.

“Must have been a shock.” Leo wanted to ask what the fight in high school had been about, but he didn’t think the room was nearly warm enough for that yet. “Or fate?”

“I like fate,” Finn said. Logan kept his eyes down. “I mean, look at us now.”

Leo kept the easier career and life questions going for the next couple hours, then they took a break. It was getting closer to five o’clock and Logan went to take a shower. Leo was preparing to go back out into the summer heat, just to give them some breathing room, when Finn picked up his guitar and began asking him questions.

“So, do you even like our music?”

Leo gasped. “Oh my God.”

Only at the surprised, maybe delighted, look on Finn’s face did he realized he’d completely dropped any professionalism right there. It was all Leo could do not to slap a hand over his mouth. Besides, Finn O’Hara was sitting in front of him, plucking some gorgeous little melody out on a guitar Leo happened to know he’d had since he was sixteen, and smiling—he could probably afford to let his guard down a little.

“I’ve loved your music since your first album,” Leo said. “And Rooftop is my favorite song in the world.”

“Rooftop,” Finn repeated softly. His fingers were still moving on the strings and Leo was trying not to stare. They were strong and quick. Subtly, the unfamiliar melody shifted into Rooftop.

“Oh,” Leo said, not bothering to pretend not to watch anymore. “I’ve never heard it on the guitar.”

“Why is that song your favorite?” Finn asked. He didn’t sound hurt exactly, but something like it. Brittle, maybe. “Just… Most people like the upbeat stuff more. At least that’s what I’m always being told.”

“Well…” Leo cleared his throat. “The way you talk about how sometimes it feels like you’re just barely holding on by your fingertips to something you want. That’s true for a lot of people I think. Waiting for someone who isn’t waiting for you back.” He thought of Logan’s eyes on him in Finn’s dressing room last night, Finn’s mouth on his neck. “Or maybe they are and just didn’t know it yet, I don’t know. But I listen to it all the time.”

Finn was leaning forward a little in his seat, listening.

Leo smiled and looked down. “I mean, I like the upbeat stuff, too. But yeah.”

“We’re around the same age, aren’t we?”

“I’m a few years younger than both of you.”

“Back then, I always thought it was just, like, twelve year old girls listening. Not that anything is wrong with twelve year old girls, but when you’re seventeen you don’t exactly want…” Finn winced. “Please don’t quote me on any of this.”

Leo laughed. “No, I understand. But also, no, it wasn’t just twelve year old girls. And it certainly isn’t now. At yesterday’s show—it’s incredible the range of people you captivate.”

Finn shrugged a little and switched back to the melody he was playing earlier.

“Can I ask what that is?” Leo nodded to the guitar.

“You can.” Finn huffed out a laugh. “But I’m not sure yet.”

“Ah. So, I’m watching the secret process right now.”

“You are. Gotta warn you, though, sometimes it’s like watching paint dry.”

“What’s the fastest time you’ve ever written a song in?”

Finn’s fingers fumbled, just for a moment. He looked out towards the windows, the city and sun. It was beginning to lower in the sky now.

“Oh,” he said softly. “About twenty minutes, I guess.”

Leo opened his mouth to ask what song it was, but stopped. Now Finn looked hurt. Sad. The guitar seemed to drink the feeling in. Leo heard him slip new minor chords into the notes, a tumbling, beautiful sound. Then he was suddenly playing Rooftop again.

“Would you like a cocktail?” Finn asked suddenly.

Leo looked over at the beautiful bar. “I think anyone would want a cocktail at that counter.”

Finn smiled. He settled the guitar on the couch and stood. “It’s gorgeous, isn’t it? I had it custom made for the space. Usually I wouldn’t give a shit, I’m never home, but I’ve always wanted to do it.” He went behind the bar. “Also. You can help with something. Lo and I are always at a bit of a impasse.” Finn put a hand to his own chest. “I like to taste the alcohol. Logan won’t touch anything that doesn’t taste like someone dumped a load of frosting into it.”

“So, he’s a sweet tooth.”

“Oh-ho yeah. Understatement. You know that edible cookie dough? Take a look in our fridge.”

I watch you fill your cup with sugar.

Finn read that thought clear as day. He bit his lip, elbows on the bar. “You’re putting us together a little bit, huh?”

“I won’t put anything together you don’t want me to.”

Finn glanced in the direction Logan had disappeared to.

“You’re under no obligation to explain it to me. I should have knocked loud and clear.”

“No, we…We’ve talked.” Finn fixed him with intent brown eyes. “We’ve talked. We love each other and…”

So they are in love, Leo thought triumphantly.

“It’s just that we don’t know what comes next.”

“I understand,” Leo said. “Really. Just…” Leo set his hands in front of him, trying to pour truth into his words. “I’m not here to, like, drag anything out of you. I’m here about your music, that’s my job, that’s what I love to write about. If what you two feel for each other is something that is not only important to that but that you’d like to tell me about, that’s wonderful. If not, that’s wonderful. And we also don’t have to decide now. Okay? Please don’t feel like you have to tip toe around me or my pen.”

Finn was looking at him with a slight smile on his face. He gave a small nod.

“And please tell Logan that, as well,” Leo said. Leo wasn’t sure he’d get those sentences out as smoothly under Logan’s gaze.

“Okay.” Finn swept his hand out towards the shelves behind him. “Gin? Whiskey? Tequila? Rum?”

“Rum,” Logan’s voice said from behind Leo. He appeared a moment later. His wet hair was combed back and out of his face, his skin flushed from the shower’s heat. He wore a dark green t-shirt, stretched across his strong chest and gray sweatpants. In his hand was a pair of drumsticks.

“Well, I wasn’t asking you,” Finn said. “Leo, please. I can make anything.”

Logan slid onto the stool beside him. “It’s true, he’s very good.”

“I’ll have whatever you’re having,” Leo said.

Finn gave his head a hard shake and hit his hands down on the bar. “Nope. I want to know what you want.”

Finn ended up fixing the two of them gin martinis. He gave Logan his rum and coke with, to Leo’s surprise, a kiss to Logan’s hand. Logan blushed, glanced at Leo, but didn’t pull away. He took his drink and his drumsticks over to a stool where a muted, practice kit was set up and began tapping out rhythms. This was not what Leo had been expecting when he took this job. He expected it to be wilder, like some of the pure and chaotic party scenes he’d been apart of when following musicians around before.

Night Swimming was soft. Domestic, even. Finn and Logan’s wildness on stage melted away into something tender. Finn brought out cheese and crackers and sliced apple and, as Leo sank into the massive comfy couch, he found that as the sun set, he wasn’t asking questions anymore. They were, the three of them, simply talking.

~

“So, so, so,” Cassie’s voice said in Leo’s AirPods. “How’s it going, you’re four shows in now you lucky duck.”

“That I am,” Leo said, looking around his Boston hotel room. Tonight was Finn and Logan’s third and final Boston show and Leo was basically in seventh heaven. Maybe they were all in hotel rooms now and he missed their cozy apartment a bit, but he couldn’t complain. He got to write about his favorite band and watch them perform every night?

And hear about their love. More and more. During their time after the show, at dinners, in dressing rooms, in Finn or Logan’s suites—and there was a suite for each of them even if it seemed like they only used one. During those times, they told Leo things. Little details about them, not as singer and drummer or best friends, but as a couple. Leo could feel the difference. He didn’t know why exactly he was being allowed to know these things when no one else did, but he let them give what they wanted to give.

“It’s good,” he told Cassie, but his mind filtered through what good was. Good was knowing how far Finn’s voice stretched as he warmed up in his dressing room. It was alone and strong. They were just scales and the occasional lyrics, but Leo could have listened all day. He also dropped to the ground and did rounds of push-ups which, while unexpected, wasn’t horrible to watch.

“I have to say though, I’m not entirely sure what happens next.”

“What do you mean?” Cassie asked.

Leo popped another salt and vinegar chip into his mouth. “Well, they’re going on vacation. Somewhere. They’ve got a month off before they’re back on tour, so I’m not sure why the magazine scheduled me for now. It’s not a full week before they leave.”

“Well, your week will be basically up. I’m sure you’re not expected to go on vacation with them.”

“No, no, I know that,” Leo said. Damn, he thought. “I’ll just—I have closing things I need. Want. Hope to ask.”

Cassie was quiet for a long minute. “Well. Better hop to it, I guess.”

~

“Will you hold this? Finn’s busy.”

Leo looked up from his notebook to see Logan holding out one end of what looked like an exercise band. He was dressed for the stage already. Black jeans, black tank top tonight. His hat had a Bruins logo on it—sometimes he did that. Matched his hat to the city. In New York, he’d been wearing Finn’s Rangers hat a lot and Finn had expressed his disgust at the switch many times. Leo had put it in the story.

“Sure.” Leo set his pen down. “What do you want me to do?”

“Just hold this steady.” Logan put one end of the band into Leo’s hand. “I like to warm up.”

Leo still didn’t quite know what that meant, but he did what he was told.

Turned out it meant getting a front row seat to the flex of Logan’s arms and wrists as he pulled the band in different directions and angles.

Suddenly, two hands appeared on his shoulders. “Hi. Would you like some tea?”

Leo held the band tighter while craning his head back to look behind him. Finn appeared to him, half upside down at this angle. “I—Yes. Sure, thank you.”

Finn smiled, squeezed once, then let go. “How’s the writing going?”

“Good.” That was half true. Sometimes, he was on. There were whole chunks that were solid and good. Then there were parts of Leo’s notebooks that were a mess of phrases which sounded far too mushy to be a proper article.  “Really good.”

The music…God, Leo could have written about their songs for hours and hours—he just had to be careful not to cross any lines into what he was quickly suspecting was the true territory of the songs. Love songs. In Leo’s opinion, the best kind of love song—when the two people they were about were right there, in the same room as each other.

Logan had switched to the other arm, opening himself up to being taken by the hips by Finn and sweetly kissed.

After, Logan smiled a little at Leo when he took the stretching band back. Still guarded, but it was improvement. “Merci.”

“Yeah,” Leo said. “Or, you’re welcome.”

He winced at himself as Logan went over to drum a bit on one of his practice pads. Leo tried to pick up the song, but it was hard without the melody until Finn, waiting for water to boil, started singing.

Oh, I wish that I was someone else so I could watch us being.

Go and love a stranger so I can see how you hard you love me.

In his notebook, Leo wrote, In the middle of warming up—which involves more push-ups and stretching than I would have thought—O’Hara stops to make me a cup of tea.

Fuck. It sounded like a diary entry.

Warming up is taken as seriously as it would be by any sports team. Tremblay prepares his body as thoroughly as his instruments.

Was that too…? Leo set his pen down and stared at the page.

Tremblay stretches in front of me and I swear to God I can see every muscle in his back.

O’Hara just squeezed my shoulders. I heard Rooftop on the guitar for the first time and it wasn’t at a show, it was in his living room and he looked so sad. He looked so sad.

When they kiss, I want to watch the gentleness between them on loop until the end of time.

And an even quieter, even more secret thought: I want to be kissed like that.

“Here we go.”

Leo looked up. Finn carefully set down a steaming paper cup. “I put a little honey in it like mine. That’s what I have before we go on.”

“That’s perfect.” Leo smiled and held the cup up to his nose. It smelled sweet and a little like licorice. “I’ll consider it research.”

Finn smiled back for a moment and Leo was reminded of the first time he’d met Alex. They both had that soft stare. It was aimed right at Leo.

“Your hair’s the color of honey,” Finn said. Then he picked up Leo’s pen and wrote down, honey!!! then winked at Leo and walked away.

The show was wild and fantastic, as usual—and it rained. Rained. Hard. The screens showed Finn, red hair dark and dripping against his forehead, his face raised to the sky. Water flew up in droplets from Logan’s drums, backlit and mesmerizing. Leo was soaked despite the VIP tent by the time it was over and shivering a little in his t-shirt as the night cooled down.

He made his way backstage, trying not to drip on everything as he knocked on Finn’s dressing room door.

A grinning Finn with Logan under his arm swung it open for him. He was soaked through, they both were, but he didn’t seem to feel the cold. Adrenaline, probably. Finn held so much of it after shows he practically shook.

“We’re going out to celebrate and you’re coming with us.”

“Great,” Leo said. He wrapped his arms around himself, trying to fight the chattering of his teeth. “Where?” He was taking in Logan now. He looked—well, soaked and kissed. Maybe Finn was just extra affectionate after shows.

“Just a bar. My brother, some friends. And you because you’re coming.”

“And my sister will be there,” Logan said.

“Which one?” Leo asked—which maybe was weird that he knew there was more than one? But they had to be used to being Googled. Right?

“Noelle,” Logan said. “And her boyfriend, Thomas.”

“I won’t kill your vibe?” Leo asked.

“Everyone knows we’re doing your interview,” Finn said. “I think we should give you more than just, like, us fucking around backstage and, you know, working.”

“You guys are pretty serious,” Leo said. Which wasn’t very true. Finn was always putting Logan in headlocks, Logan constantly hid Finn’s things from him. “But thanks. I’d love to come.”

“Good,” Finn said.

When they began peeling off their sweaty and wet stage clothes, Leo kept his eyes respectfully down, mostly, and wished he had something to change into, too. He could try to run back to his hotel, but he didn’t feel like having to chase their party down. He resigned himself to being damp and hoped a drink or two would warm him up.

“Here,” Logan said, and something soft and warm was being pushed into Leo’s chest.

It was a sweatshirt—Finn’s sweatshirt, probably, by The Strand Bookstore logo on it. Though maybe it was Logan’s, bought in New York or maybe stolen from Finn.

“Oh…” Leo looked at Logan. Those green eyes really did deserve songs to be written about them. “Thank you.” Leo said.

He pulled the sweatshirt over his head and was sure it was Logan’s. It smelled like the cologne he wore—nothing too strong and intense. It really was just like he’d bottled something piney and sweet.

When he was sure no one was looking, Leo ducked his nose a little into the collar.

~

Somehow, suddenly, it was four-thirty in the morning. Leo was pleasantly buzzed, a little exhausted, and squeezed up against strangers in a booth. He wasn’t so pleased about the squeezed part, but it was a good vantage point. As it turned out, Finn was a dancer—even when not many others were dancing. He was just as good as he was on stage. All hips and smiles.

Logan was not a dancer—but he watched. Leo watched him watch Finn. There was a quiet sort of intensity to it. He chewed on the straw of his rum and coke, crunched on ice cubes. An hour later he was all but shredding a beer label, and had his eyes on Finn and he’d lost his hat somewhere—oh, Finn’s head. It was getting warm in the bar. The place kept the doors open and Leo was sweating in Logan’s sweatshirt, but he didn’t take it off. He could see Logan’s sweat, dark on his temples. Finn had to be sweating, too, but he didn’t look it. He just looked happy.

Finn wandered over to Logan and hooked his thumbs in his belt loops. He didn’t kiss him, but he got nice and close like he might, singing words to a song Leo didn’t know and grinning.

How had the world not figured it out yet? They might not be so obvious as kissing, but Finn and Logan certainly weren’t subtle. Was a narrative of that’s how they are, that’s their friendship really so strong?

With a smile, Logan shoved Finn back out onto the floor where someone joined him—two someones. Alex and a dark-haired girl Leo had seen around. For a brief moment, across the room, Logan’s eyes met Leo’s. Then he ducked out onto the balcony. Leo wasn’t positive it was an invitation, but he wouldn’t miss it if it was.

“Excuse me, sorry,” Leo mumbled to the guy next to him. It was a bit of a mess, making these people get up. He wasn’t sure why they were all sitting there. It wasn’t like it was easy to hear each other over the music anyway. Leo was happy to rise.

Remarkably, the night air felt cool. The balcony was higher up than Leo had expected, looking down at the city below. Logan had his back to Leo, elbows on the railing. He glanced behind him when he heard Leo approaching, and the red and blue city lined his profile. He looked just like he did on stage, only calmer. Quiet. Truer to how he actually was. Leo couldn’t image putting on a show like that every single night.

“I need a break from people sometimes,” Logan said, as if answering a question Leo had asked.

“Oh. I can go—”

“No,” Logan said. “I just mean crowds.”

“I bet,” Leo said. He went to the railing and mirrored Logan’s position. That was actually an old trick he’d been taught. Apparently it made interview subjects feel at ease. Really, he’d just wanted to see the city and feel the cold metal of the railing on his skin.

“It’s hot in there.”

“Ouais.”

“Finn really loves dancing.”

Logan cracked a smile and took a drink from his beer bottle. “You’d think he’d run out of energy.”

Leo laughed. “I’m out of it just looking at him.”

“That’s Finn for you…Realest thing in the world.”

Realest thing in the world. What a quote. Leo knew he wouldn’t have to write that down to remember it.

“Who is he dancing with?”

Logan swallowed. “Hannah. She was at Harvard with us.”

“Hm.”

“They dated. In college.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yeah,” Logan said, then glanced Leo’s way. “Before I took what was mine.”

Okay, hot. Leo had to smother a pretty pathetic sounding breath.

“Hm,” Leo said again. “Can I…Can I ask something?”

“That’s your job.”

“It’s pretty personal. And you don’t have to answer.”

“I know that.” Logan said, and then just waited, looking back out at the streets.

“What happened after high school and before Harvard?”

More waiting. More of that intense, Logan-silence. Part of Leo was pleased that he had such a thing to associate with Logan, that he’d spent enough time with him for that. Leo didn’t push him. He stirred the ice cubes in his drink and took in the rest of the balcony. A few chairs. Ash trays.

“We used this bookshop’s basement to practice at night,” Logan said suddenly. “All the other stores were closed, it was below ground, we weren’t going to annoy anyone.”

Leo could picture that. Guitar and drums, maybe one of their ever rotating bass players—it must get hard, trying to bud in on two as tight as Finn and Logan were. Writing and playing late into the night.

“But one night when it was just us there was this…” Logan shook his head. “Merde, I’d say snowstorm but it was more like… Just it was like the world blinked out.” Logan scratched wet-paper trails in his beer bottle’s label. “It felt like it was just the two of us left in the world.”

“You got snowed in?”

Logan nodded. His eyes were far, far away. Green, deep forest.

“We slept together,” Logan said quietly.

Alarm bells that every good reporter should have went off. Logan had been drinking. Leo had asked the question but it was still his duty to make sure it was truly okay to get the answer. “Does Finn know you’re telling me this?”

“Ouais. We talked about you.”

Okayokayokay. Leo felt like his entire body was trying to keep his heart from pounding at that sentence. Oh, to be a fly on that wall…

“Okay,” Leo said carefully. “Still, if you want to have this conversation another time—”

“I’m not drunk,” Logan said. He looked down at his beer. “I had one drink two hours ago and this tastes like shit, I’ve been holding it for a fucking hour.”

Leo couldn’t help but laugh a little. “Not sweet?”

“Non, not at all.”

Well, Leo was glad he knew. Sometimes with the stars, it was a problem. They spilled out gorgeous sentences and feelings no matter how Leo tried to stop them when they were loose-tongued and then wouldn’t let Leo use a word of it the next morning.

“And like I said,” Logan said. “We…I wouldn’t just be telling you this if Finn didn’t…You know.”

Leo thought of all the details he’d been picking up, and then even more unspoken ones. He could see that they wanted him to know. He just wasn’t sure why.

“It was the best night of my life.” Logan leaned on the railing, his hand coming up to touch his mouth. “It was… We wrote Only Two that night.” Logan smiled at the memory and closed his eyes. “Like, in twenty minutes, it was insane. Right after we…well.”

Leo loved that song. Back in high school, he hadn’t thought of it as being about making love, but being older now, he could tell.

There are only two

Things I want

For only the two

Of us

Two more turns on this dark road

Two more inches of skin exposed

Two more minutes of this bliss

Two more hours not to miss

Two more decades of your light

Two more centuries of this night

Only two (two) two (two)

Want me, too (too) too (too)

After this conversation, he’d never listen to it the same. He’d picture some grimy basement, and snow—and he’d picture Logan and Finn…

Two more inches of skin exposed.

No. No, Leo thought to himself. You’re professional. So very professional.

“And then I pretended like nothing happened.” Logan straightened. He turned his face away a little.

He could be professional and still let his heart ache at that. A memory surged at him without warning. A voice that he tried his best not to remember. Get the lights, will you?

“Why?” Leo tried to keep the word gentle. Logan seemed like he wanted to get this out, and Leo wanted to keep it at his pace.

“I don’t know. I got scared. I thought we’d never—I don’t know. We wanted this massive thing, to play our music, that almost no one gets and I didn’t want anything to mess it up. We fought. Finn wanted to be together. And then I said…I said things I didn’t really mean, but I said them. And he was crying.” Far away eyes again. “He was crying.”

Finn, crying. Leo couldn’t put it together with the grinning boy inside. When Logan turned to look, so did Leo. Finn was facing them, half obscured by a wall of people he was chatting to. It was hard to tell through the glass and with all the reflections from outside, but Finn might have looked at them.

  “And…and we stopped talking.” Logan turned away. “We didn’t talk all of Senior year, or the summer before college.”

“But you got into the same school and showed up to the same dorm room.”

Logan snorted out a laugh, rubbing a palm over his face. “Merde. Oh my God, Leo, you have no idea. Our faces, seeing each other? Our parents’ faces? I thought I was going to die that first night, I walked in on Finn playing the guitar, and I thought I was going to die.”

“Wow,” Leo said faintly.

Logan let out a delighted laugh. Leo blinked, surprised, but couldn’t help but smile. That was a contagious sound. A rare one?

“Sorry, I mean—at least we can laugh about it now,” Logan laughed through the words. “I was going to lose my mind. I can’t tell you how much I missed him. I remember missing him now and I miss him when he’s, like, asleep next to me. That’s how bad I…” He broke off suddenly. Leo watched his throat move around a swallow. “That’s how bad I fucked up.”

Leo knew he wasn’t supposed to give his opinion to the subject of his pieces. As the writer, he was supposed to listen and organize. But his mind was telling him to comfort Logan. He wanted to do what he’d seen Finn do earlier, he wanted to know how warm Logan’s waist was through his t-shirt.

“On the topic of the songs you write together…” Leo took a breath. “Can I ask about Rooftop? You always leave the stage when Finn plays it. Is that—I mean, it’s a solo for him, I know that, but…”

Logan frowned and didn’t answer for a long time. Leo let him sit. It was a fine line, seeing that a subject had opened up, but then pushing too hard. Leo was beginning to worry he’d crossed that line when Logan spoke.

“I can’t listen to it. That’s why I leave.” Logan rubbed at his jaw and went to mess with his hat before remembering Finn had it. “Really, I can’t watch him sing it. I can’t watch what was my fault.”

Leo had had his suspicions since he’d walked into the dressing room, but this confirmed it. “It’s about you.”

Logan’s mouth was tight when he gave a small nod.

“I refused us for a long time.” Half a smile crossed his face and he sang the brief melody. “Long, long time.”

Leo smiled, too. It felt like it was okay to do. They were together now, weren’t they?

“It’s my favorite song,” Leo admitted.

Logan looked surprised. “It’s so sad. You don’t seem like a sad song person.”

“I don’t?” Leo laughed. “What kind of person do I seem like?”

Logan looked at him for a moment, then back at the city, shrugging with an almost bashful look on his face.

“And…” Leo felt a little giddy, like a sleuth figuring out a mystery. “Green Eyes.”

Logan laughed. “Ouais.” He took a sip of his beer and grimaced at the taste. “Fuck this shit about some French girl. Quote me on that.”

“Seriously?”

Logan sent him a look. “Maybe. Ask me later.”

Leo nodded. “Promise.”

Logan’s smile was gentler this time.

“When did you get together for good?” Leo asked, then realized what he said. “I mean—I mean, you look pretty solid, I didn’t mean to assume.”

Logan smiled. “Oh, he’s never getting rid of me now. I’ll never forget it. It was…maybe a year ago, I guess? No, a little more. While we were writing our most recent album. In Rome, actually, we rented this place and after those months, I didn’t think I’d be able to be far away from him again. And I mean, like, other side of the room. That felt far away.” Logan looked up, remembering. “We were pretty off-and-on until then, making out, fucking, not talking about it.”

Leo blushed. “Mhm.” Making out fucking not talking about it.

Logan sent him a sideways glance. “What?”

“Nothing, I’m listening.”

Logan narrowed his eyes playfully and turned his body towards Leo. God, his shoulders.

“Non, you’re a baby tomato. Tell me.”

“Oh God,” Leo laughed, putting a hand to his cheek. “Shit, I am, aren’t I? Well—No. Okay. All right, confession.”

Logan smiled and leaned forward. “Ouais?”

Leo pressed a palm to his own chest. “I am a fan. Quite a big fan of you both. I’m also. Well, I’m gay. I’m having a bit of a moment realizing two of the people around my age that I’ve always admired,”—You’re also unbearably hot, both of you—“shared more with me than I ever thought they did. Especially because—your music really helped me through some bad times.” It was Leo’s turn to look down. “Some bad guys.”

Now all that intense Logan-silence was trained directly on him.

“Bad guys,” Logan repeated softly. “Bad to you?”

He said it like it was madness, like he couldn’t believe it.

“It was a long time ago,” Leo said.

“What’s that mean?” Logan shrugged. “They were bad to you?”

“He,” Leo said. “Really just…he was.”

“Bad…Bad how?” Logan asked in a hushed whisper. He took a step forward, nearly right into Leo’s space.

“Nothing like—just…” Leo sighed as he stumbled over his words. “He wasn’t happy with how he wanted me. He probably wished he didn’t want me at all.”

More of those uncomprehending narrowed eyes, as if Jack, whose name Logan didn’t even know, had offended Logan by offending Leo.

“What a shit,” Logan said—and there was a snarl to it. Logan Tremblay, who had known Leo for all of a week, had just snarled about Leo’s shitty ex-boyfriend.

Leo laughed. “Yes. Understatement. Very.”

They were close now. Close enough that Logan could reach out and untuck where the collar of Leo’s sweatshirt had folded wrong.

“Oh,” Leo said. Logan’s fingers had brushed his neck and Leo fought that shiver hard. “Yeah, thank you for this. That rain got cold.”

Logan stayed quiet. He withdrew his hand, but he didn’t step back. When he looked up at Leo, he had that open look that Leo had only seen him give Finn.

“You know we chose you,” Logan said. “Right?”

Leo only had time to half let that sink in and half wonder what the hell it meant before a knocking came from behind them. “Hey-hey.”

They both turned to see a dark haired girl—this was Logan’s sister, Noelle. She smiled at Leo and held out her arms to Logan.

“Wanted to say bye, I’m taking off, Lo-bear.”

Lo-bear. Leo hid his smile in his glass but Logan caught it anyway as he hugged his sister tightly.

“Have a good vacation,” Noelle said and squeezed him tighter for a moment. She planted a kiss on his cheek and whispered. “You deserve it.”

“Merci.”

“Don’t wreck mom and dad’s house.”

Logan rolled his eyes. “When have I ever done that?”

Noelle pulled back and patted his cheeks. “Love you.”

Leo looked between them. Logan was different like this. He wasn’t a pop star. He wasn’t considered on of the best drummers in the current music scene—maybe the world. He was a baby brother.

“Je t’aime,” he said softly.

A version of the voice he saved for Finn, maybe. Leo wondered what it was like to hear them say it to each other. I love you.

People began spilling out on the balcony after that. Maybe noting that Logan Tremblay was out there. Leo and Logan got tumbled apart, but Logan caught his eye across the crowd. Between them lingered unfinished words. Leo shrugged one shoulder and gave him a smile. You chose me? What does that mean? What in the world does that mean?

Logan frowned. He set his beer bottle down, still full, and began to try and push through the crowd to Leo. It was hard. People kept wanting to speak to him. Logan looked like he was trying hard not to snap at them.

“Hey.”

Leo turned and found Finn there. Sweaty, tall, love-eyed Finn. He was definitely tipsy. No Logan-conversations for them tonight.

“Hi,” Leo said. He glanced back for Logan, but he’d lost him.

“We’re going to Logan’s family’s house in Nice tomorrow morning.”

“Oh.” Leo tried, he tried to keep his heart afloat. That felt—he didn’t feel ready. He didn’t want the week to end. Maybe it was hero-worship. Maybe he was starstruck. Maybe his heart didn’t know what to do with the proximity. Was Finn telling him that they were finished, that they were going on vacation—

Finn reached for Leo’s hand and tucked something into his palm, closing Leo’s fingers around it and covering it with his own. “I’ll send the car for you.”

The crowd whisked him away, too, leaving Leo standing in the summer night to uncurl his fingers.

It was a guitar pic, and scrawled across both sides in tiny writing, were two phone numbers.

[brokendoor16]

Okay. So I'm aware that we LOVE love of my life for S3 post-angel depression Crowley, but hear me out. What I actually NEED in S3 is a (ridiculously, impossibly, drunk-to-the-extent-that-would-kill-a-mere-mortal) post-angel depression Crowley doing karaoke to Bohemian Rhapsody. JUST IMAGINE THE FUCKING MOOD SWINGS IN THAT SONG-

As a brief demonstration, I will now pick a lyric from each verse (I'm so sorry guys, this is what happens when I don't sleep so now it's all of your problems):

I'm just a poor boy, I need no sympathy- delivered in the MOST fucking overdramatic way possible, probably throwing his arms around a looking up (to curse Heaven- AKA try and figure out if Aziraphale's about to watch him embarrass himself again)

Mama, just killed a man- standing up from his chair (this scene is taking place at the closed coffee shop, I've just decided this), with an IMPECCABLE Freddie Mercury impression and kinda staring into Nina's soul (she's both amused and terrified)

I don't wanna die // I sometimes wish I'd never been born at all- slurring his words, slumping back into a chair, sounding utterly depressed and also done with life. Maggie is deeply concerned and trying to count up how much wine he's drank.

Scaramouche, scaramouche, will you do the fandango?- completely manic. At the peak of drunkeness. At some point he has got up on the table and is now pointing at Nina like he's expecting her to actually DO the fucking Fandango (tbh he probably is)

BONUS LINE FROM THE SAME VERSE: Thunderbolts and lightening, very very frightening me- again, peak drunkeness. Slurring his words so hard you can barely tell what he's saying. Stumbling off of the table but still stupidly manic.

Easy come, easy go, will you let me go?- looking up (let's be honest he's probably fallen over and is hauling himself off of the floor) at Maggie and Nina, hammered out of his mind but oddly endearing (according to Maggie, at least. Nina has plenty of words about the whole display and 'endearing' is most DEFINITELY not one of them)

Beezlebub has a devil put aside for me, for me, for me- practically fucking SCREAMING, barely able to stand up but somehow with an inhuman amount of energy and finding himself the funniest being to ever grace the earth because BEEZLEBUB

So you think you can love me and leave me to die?- suddenly recovering a whole lot of strength. And anger. Standing up, potentially smoking, staring directly upwards and SCREAMING (he's not doing well guys)

Nothing really matters // nothing really matters to me- there's no more energy. He's on the floor and too drunk to get back up. Probably just slumps over clutching a wine bottle (did I mention he's been using it as a mic?) and goes to sleep. Maggie, Nina, and Aziraphale (IF he's watching) and deeply concerned. He wakes up with a banging headache and an intense feeling of embarrassment.

So yes. That was my TED talk on why Crowley should get drunk and sing Bohemian Rhapsody in S3. Thank you for making it to the end of this train wreck, and I sincerely apologise. I'm very sleep deprived.

[madameminor]

In More Ways Than One, Part 9 - Bad Batch x F!Reader - Wrecked

Summary: Everything seems perfect the morning after - until Wrecker starts acting strange.

Tags: 18+ smutty mcsmutterson, porn with plot, basically, all the good stuff

Warnings: Dom drop, aftercare, breeding kink, shiny's being jerks.

Notes: I'm experimenting writing more with less, since sometimes I get too caught up in the words - I may or may not like it. Regardless, please enjoy Wrecker being a sweet boy.

Word Count: 5k+

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 3.5 Part 4 Part 4.5 Part 5 Part 5.5 Part 6 Part 6.5 Part 7 Part 8 Part 8.5 Part 9 Part 9.5 Part 10

The bliss of a truly rested sleep is really second to none. Waking slowly from the comforting embrace of peace, you feel the necessary rest down to your soul.

That is - until you shift to stretch - and feel the full effects of yesterdays ‘punishments’.

Your stretching squeal becomes a mournful moan as you ache in places you’ve never ached before - and are met with a soft chuckle and a gentle hand on your cheek.

“Mmhmm. The lesson continues,” Crosshair smirks, kissing your nose from where he stands by his bed. You squint open your eyes and pout at him before turning your back to him, showing your disdain for his teasing. He chuckles again and gently spanks you, making you turn to pout at him again as he scoots in behind you. 

“Don’t be like that. It’s your own fault anyway,” he murmurs into your neck, kissing gently as his hand gently rubs over your hip, your thigh. 

“Hmph,” you pout away from him, too sleepy to think of a comeback.

He lightly nips along where Hunter bit you the night before, making you gasp at the light pull of memory. 

“Nnnn Crosshair, don’t get me going this early I’m so SORE.”

He smirks in your ear. “You want to stay here then?”

“Mmhmm…”

“Hmph, alright. We’re going to the mess for whatever serves as breakfast out here. You want us to bring you back something?”

“Mmhmm,” you nod in affirmation, eyes still closed, voice sleepy. “Y’s please.”

Another chuckle by your ear. “Its a good thing you’re cute.”

“M’super cute.”

“You are. We’ll be back.”

The rest is like hazy background noise as you drift in the peaceful stream of ‘sleepy’.

“So she is staying?” Tech, quietly.

“Mmhmm.” The sound of a toothpick between teeth. 

“Hmph. Can’t say I’m surprised.” Hunter, smirking. Various armors being put on. Echo’s chuckle, the sound of blasters finding holsters, its all starting to fade as you slip back into-

“Wrecker.”

Hunter’s voice is just above a whisper.

 “Hey Wrecker,” a little louder, trying not to disturb you, but obviously working to get attention. “Come on, we’re headed to the mess. Grub time.”

You don’t hear any movement, just a voice, facing towards a wall - just above a whisper, and very, very guilty.

“U-uh you guys go ahead, I-I’m not really hungry.”

Everything stops.

You’re up and by his bed before you know you’ve thought about it, pulling his shoulder towards you to make him look up, the scanner you whisked from your pack blinking readings as you draw it down his face.

He freezes like a porg in headlights as you finish your scan. You set it down in confusion, hand to his forehead. 

Hunter is just over your shoulder.

“What’s wrong with him?”

You scan again for anything, anything. “His vitals are fine. There’s no fever.”

“None of the side effects from the inoculations mentioned lack of appetite?” Tech muses quietly.

“Even if it did, Wrecker always has an appetite. He defies the odds,” Echo says firmly.

A small spark of worry in your chest has you on your feet. “I’ll take him to the infirmary and do some more tests to see if it’s anything -”

A hand grabs your wrist as you turn to get dressed. You look to where Wrecker waits, his eyes panicked instead of surprised.

“NO, no, I’m fine, really. Just… just not hungry, ok? I don’t need to… uh, go with them to the mess.” He looks down and away from his brothers.

Oh.

You almost kick yourself.

OH.

You turn to the others, “Alright my dears, I’ll take it from here. Out.” You shoo them towards the door, ignoring the fact that you’re giving orders while completely naked.

Hunter raises an eyebrow. “Are you sure-”

“BIP bip bip bip, go. Out. Bring back food for two, please. Don’t hurry back.”

The door whisks closed so fast it almost catches Echo’s kama.

You turn back to Wrecker, sitting on the bed beside him. “They’ve gone, honey.”

He looks over at you, briefly meeting your eyes before looking off to the side- he opens his mouth to say something, but nothing comes out. His eyes meet yours again, pleading for help with whatever he needs to say. Your heart melts a bit for him - your gentle giant, in unknown territory. You scoot closer to him, putting your head to his, your hand on his cheek.

“I’m right here, I’m listening. Take your time.”

He sighs in relief, closing his eyes and breathing with you. He wraps his arms around you and rolls onto his side, pulling you over him so you’re the closest to the bulk head. He buries his face in your neck - aw, he’s hiding. You stroke his bald head to soothe him, letting him find the words he needs.

You don’t have to wait long. “Are you….ok?” 

Something in his tone sets off your mental alarm bells.

“I’m wonderful. A little sore, but its a good sore. Why, honey?”

“I didn’t… hurt you, right? You aren’t… mad at me?”

…shit.

“Oh darling, no,” you say, fully turning to face him, your hand cupping his face. He leans into it, still avoiding your eyes. “No no no. I’m so grateful to you. I loved last night. I feel so lucky that all of you gave to me like that. I’m the happiest woman alive this morning.”

He finally looks up at you, still looking guilty. “Really?” 

“Yes yes yes, a thousand times yes,” you say quietly, smiling. “All the things we did last night were things I’d talked to Crosshair and Hunter about enjoying - I may have seemed like I was upset, but it's what I wanted.”

“So I’m… I’m not a bad person for liking it?”

“No,” you say firmly, still staying quiet so it doesn’t sound like a reprimand. “I like those things being done to me. And you can like doing those things to me because I’m saying yes. If you liked those things and I was screaming my safe word, that would not be ok, but that’s what a safe word is for - to tell you when I’m not ok.”

“I… w’ll, I know that. But I still feel like what I did was wrong. I don’t understand, I liked it at the time, but… I started thinking about it, and now…Whats wrong with me?”

“Nothing, babe, nothing at all. This happens sometimes, and it means you care about me, and you would never hurt me if I asked you to stop. This proves you’re a good person, not a bad one. This happens, a lot of people in your position can feel like this after they do some of what we did last night. It even has a name. It’s called ‘dom drop’.”

“It… it is?” Understanding and relief start to show on his face. You start to breathe again.

“Mmhmm.”

He’s relaxing, slowly, but steadily. “Did the others feel like this?”

You trace along his face scar. “I don’t know. They may have at some point, either last night or before, but if this isn’t their first time they probably have ways to care for themselves.” He nods, thinking. You stroke the side of his face, being sure to meet his eyes. “Babe, I’m sorry. There are things to watch out for, and I didn’t think of you in the moment at all. It was your first time, I should have checked in with you. I’m so sorry, and I’ll work to communicate with you so much more, starting right now.”

He looks at you, still hesitant, but nods before burying his head into your shoulder again.

You mentally kick yourself, feeling the gravity of your responsibility settle on you - this is the second time you left him in the dust. If you were going to make this work with all five of them, you needed to up your game - to make sure you took care of those who needed you at those junctures. And Wrecker needed you to pay more attention to guiding him - he was new to all of this.

No use beating yourself up. You didn’t know who would need what before, but now you do.

Time to make it right.

You kiss his head, willing his worries away. “What do you need right now, darling? Snuggles? Kisses? Closeness?” He nods, snuggling closer. You smile, settling into the security of his strength around you.

The silence is peaceful. You feel him breathing, heart slowing. You stroke his head, trailing kisses every few strokes. You feel him relax against you, tension releasing… but there’s still a sadness. Something isn’t quite right yet. You let your mind wander over what past lovers have liked, have asked for in their care.

 “Do you want to hear about what I liked last night?”

He looks up again in surprise - and nods. Good.

You smile, settling into him and the pillow while thinking back. “Hmm…I liked having you in my mouth while the other two were inside me.” He grins. 

You continue. “I liked when you spanked me - it felt so good to have you so big in me and spanking me at the same time. I want to do that again, if you do.” His eyes spark in interest, and you can feel something near your pelvis firm. 

Heeheehee.

“I like hearing you lose yourself and go hard with me - using me to cum like that. I liked how you didn’t let me cum, but you really wanted to. I always love feeling you cum inside of me, and what you said about wanting to push so far inside of me was SO hot.”

He gets bashful again. Interesting. “Yeah?”

You prop yourself up on one elbow, fingers tracing along his shoulders. “What did you like about last night?”

He swallows. “How hot you looked tied up like that. It was really… kriffing hot.”

You giggle in response. He smiles.

“When you choked on me because Echo fucked you so hard. That felt so good.”

“Oooo, I remember that. The look on your face was very attractive.”

He smiles. “I’m glad the boys made me wait, cause I really wanted to feel you cum, but then watching you cum so hard was really hot.” 

He pauses, then glances away while finding the words, rubbing the back of his neck.

“A-Also, uh… there was…uh… there was a moment where I thought something kind of weird, but it was really hot to think about?”

“OOooo, tell me,” you smile, shifting closer.

He keeps rubbing the back of his head. “It…um…”

He’s so kriffing cute. “I’m listening, darling, I want to hear about all the things that you like.”

He swallows, still not meeting your eyes. “I uh… I wanted to cum so hard in you that you… got pregnant.”

Your core tenses in excitement. Oh, say it isn’t so. “Oh really?”

“Y-yeah…” he looks back at you, words suddenly spilling out in a rush. “I’d never do that, I know you have, like, that thing that stops you from having babies, but the thought just popped into my head and it was really hot at the time and-”

Ooooh the Gods are good. “I think so, too.”

He blinks. “You do? It’s not weird?”

Your smile is coy. “No, it's something a fair amount of people like. Including me, at times.”

He gulps again - you feel the firm grow firmer. His voice sounds mildly strained. “But you can’t have babies right now.”

“That’s true,” you flirt, a finger tracing along his collar bone, “but we can pretend. You can fill me up so full and imagine what I look like when I have your baby growing in me. A cute little wrecking ball.”

Firmer still. You can feel his heart thumping in his chest. “Babe… thats…”

You smile, leaning in closer to him. “Do you want to try now? Want to try and cum in me so hard that you get me pregnant?”

He reflexively grips your hips, where his hand rests, bucking involuntarily. “Kriff yeah…"

His fingers trail down, pulling your leg up over his hip before moving behind your leg to trace over your slit, groaning as his fingers come away wet and sticky.

“Babe…”

Your breath catches at the need in his eyes. “See how much I like the idea?”

He groans again, bucking up, fingers eagerly returning to push inside your entrance.

You wince at the sudden intrusion. “Gently, love, You all worked me over really well last night.”

He lightens up immediately. He slides one finger inside your slippery slit, thick and firm, curling against your walls, stroking your g-spot delicately. You clench around him, savoring the feeling of his loving care in your pleasure. He groans as he pulls his finger out again.

“FUCK babe… I’m sliding in so easily.” He pumps again, watching your face fastidiously. “Can you… take another?”

“Yes, oh yes.” Your hips buck, begging for more of him inside of you, thoughts running through your head of what you’re about to do. You start to ride his fingers while he moves inside you, meeting each other with each thrust. You hold behind his neck for support, eyes meeting his, begging him not to stop.

That sets something off in him, moving forward to latch his mouth onto where neck meets shoulder. “Kriff, that’s right mesh’la, ride my fingers. Want you so ready to take my cock. You want it so bad, don’t you?”

You whimper out a cry, riding his fingers as he pumps them into you. “Can’t wait to feel you fill me…”

He involuntarily bucks against your leg. “Fuck I’m going to cum so far into you. Can’t wait to fill you up till you’re leaking, make sure it takes.”

Fuck it’s so hot to hear him say that. “O-One more, Wrecker, I c-can take another.”

He slides in a third finger, finally giving you the same girth as he is, sliding himself down to suck pulses into your clit. 

“WRECker…” Your eyes fall back into your head, your head falls back between your propped arms, and you fuck along him for all your worth, riding the wave of the pleasure cresting from his pulses. 

“Oh babe I’m cumming, I’m cumming, I’m cumming!”

“That’s right babe, cum for me, cum for me real good.” 

You feel yourself start to seize, riding his tongue as he pushes you through, eagerly licking up everything you’re releasing like its frickin’ candy.

You’re left panting - but still craving him. You whine a bit, bucking as he pulls his fingers away. You want so much more. You want what he said he’d give you.

Wrecker starts running your slick on his fingers over his hard length, already weeping precum. He bites back a groan, looking down at you with need, with… worry? Aww, the darling is checking in. Your heart swells.

“Babe, can I…”

You reach up to cup his cheek.“Yes, please yes. But kiss me when you push in? I’m afraid I’ll moan too loud…”

He kisses you deeply, sliding in so gently, both of you swallowing the other’s groans. HIs head falls to your chest as he breathes through the moment. 

“So kriffing tight. Fuck, you’re squeezing me so tight.”

“It's cause I want your cum, babe. I want it so bad.”

He groans, hips stuttering into yours, making you gasp, eyes rolling back.

“Can’t wait to give it to you,” he says, slowly starting to fuck into you. He puts his head to yours, one hand coming up to cup the side of your face. “Fill you up so good with my cum. Want to get you so big for me, kiss your belly, talk to our strong baby while you bounce on my cock. Tell them how beautiful their mom is.”

“Oh Wrecker…”Your voice comes out a moan, unable to think around his giant cock fucking into you.

His head falls to your shoulder, hips moving faster. “NNNnn I’m gonna cum, mesh’la. You ready for me? You ready for me to fill you up?”

You can barely form a thought, but the words just flow out of you. “Yes Wrecker, please. Please. Pump your cum inside me, honey, I want it so bad.”

He grips under your shoulder, holds your thigh against his hip, driving his full length inside your throbbing hole. “KRIFF. Take it then. Take it all. Nnn... NNN.”

He growls a groan as his hips stutter, releasing his seed what seems like an unnatural amount of times deep inside you, using his leverage to push in as far as he can.

He doesn’t stop, even as you feel him start to soften.

He groans. “Fuck, babe. FUCK. I want to keep going so bad, I don’t want to stop I’m still so horny.” 

You’re so on fire with need that you don’t skip a beat.“Then come here, big boy, and let me help you with that.”

He moves up the bed, offering you his slowly softening cock. Karking hell, you’re so hungry and desperate for more, you immediately take him as far as you can with one swift move. He cries out a swear - he’s so sensitive, but he wants it so bad, SO BAD. He fucks your mouth gently, watching his cock disappear down your throat. 

“Fuck, babe. That’s it. Just like that, getting me so hard again. I wanna fill you up more. So much more. Gonna make you cum this time too, so you strangle all my cum out of my cock, fill you up so good.”

You look up at him, watching him take you in, his eyes transfixed where your lips wrap around his cock.

“NNnnn could cum down your throat, fill you up from both ends,” he murmurs, almost to himself. You moan around him at the thought, making his hips stutter with a groan. “You’d like that, huh?”

You purposefully moan a yes, smirking internally as his eyes roll back.

“B-But I wanna make you cum too, feel you cum around my cock. Kriff, fuck I need to feel you cum on my cock.” He pulls out and away, clamping around the base for a moment while he breathes. As you sit up, wiping spit from your mouth, he picks you up and places you so your head is towards the other end of the bed, hooking your legs up with his elbows. He pushes into you hungrily, ravenous to feel you around him again, moaning along with your feverish cry. He starts to slowly fuck into you.

“WRECKer! Oh honey you feel so good.” You bring your hand down to play with your clit. “Wanna cum. Wanna cum while you’re fucking a baby into me.”

His hips speed up, spurred on by your rapturous cries. “That’s right mesh’la. Kriff. Milk me dry. Gonna be so full I put TWO babies in there. Gonna see you get so big. So big cause of me…”

Stars, you can FEEL how aroused he is, he’s so hard, so needy in his thrusts. “I’m so close, Wrecker, I’m so close. Fill me up while I cum for you. Give it to me, please.”

“Whatever you want, babe, anything you want.” His voice is desperate, his eyes feverish with need and arousal. “Fuck I’m gonna cum again. Take it all. Cum for me while you take it all. Kriff, kriff, KRIFF.”

You swear he pushes in so far he’s in your cervix. You feel each spurt of his spend coat your walls, fill your womb, leaving you sated and full, wishing, on some level, that this was real.

Wrecker falls to one elbow, panting, still propping himself up so as not to crush you, still shivering every few seconds as his orgasm racks him anew.

“B…Babe… that was… that was so…”

You put your head to his, your hand to his cheek, panting from the intensity of your orgasm. You feel your breath slow, leaning in and kissing him slowly, sensually, bringing him down on top of you. Your hands rove over his bald head, feeling the smooth skin under your fingertips. You pull back after a moment, laying back to look up at him while your fingers continue along his scar.

“Good?”

“Yeah,” He sighs in relief, head dropping to your shoulder as you giggle. “I’m gonna pull out, ok?”

“Ok.” You gasp a little as he gently pulls out, leaving you emptier than you were - but not by much. He turns towards the bathroom, presumably to get a towel - you gently grab his hand before he can.

“Wait. Don’t you want to see how full I am first?” You can’t help the mischievous smile dancing across your face.

He looks back at you, confused.

“Look,” you smile, laying back along the sheets, spreading your legs, hand trailing down to your lower lips - and parting them.

His widening eyes tell you he’s watching his seed brimming at your entrance, slowly trickling out of you. You clench, partly to emphasize the flow, partly because its so hot, watching him watch you like this.

He gulps, eyes glued to your pussy. “Babe, can I… do somethin’?”

“Yes,” you lilt, pulling your fingers away from your entrance.

He slides his thumb carefully over your slit, gathering some of the slick between your thighs. Eyes alight, he leans over you - and holds his thumb up to your lips. 

You smile at him, propping yourself up on your elbows, and without taking your eyes from his, you take his thumb into your mouth, tasting your combined juices, sucking him clean.

“You’re gonna get me hard again,” he groans, almost reluctantly.

You release his thumb with a smile.

“Good,” you purr, nuzzling against his hand, “because I think you promised to cum down my throat next? ‘Fill me up from both sides’?”

You see the shiver run through him.

“Kriff, babe. You’re gonna be the death of me,” he groans - right before climbing back on to his bed. 

__________________________________________________________________________

A half hour later finds Wrecker between your thighs with a damp cloth, cleaning up the substantial mess he’s made after cumming twice more. He can’t bring himself to look, he really shouldn’t look, he’ll just get going again - and hes not sure he could take another round before his brothers come back, and they’d been nice enough to leave them alone this long. There would be - he shivers - more chances another time.

Besides, he wanted to hold you after that. 

Throwing the rag toward the end of his bed, he finds you snuggling extra close into his chest, filling him with warmth as he wraps his arms around you. Yeah, this was what he wanted.

“Mmmmm… that was everything.” You look up at him. “How are you, babe? How did you like that?”

“Great,” he grins - before his face falls into uncertainty. “Though I, uh, didn’t expect that to happen, you know…”

“I know, but I just loved the idea soooo much…” you nuzzle against his nose, his grin returning. Kriff, you made him feel like a cadet again, getting his first detonator. “Did that feel like what you needed?”

“Uh…” he thinks for a moment, trying to remember where he started. “Yeah… I think I… I just wanted to know you weren’t mad, or hurt or… somethin’ else. I liked feeling… like feeling close to you.” He (very) lightly squeezes you. “I like this.”

“Then lets do this if we try something intense like we did last night. I’ll make sure to come be close to you, and tell you how happy I am. Yes?”

He kisses the top of your head, feeling a knot unclench in his chest. “Yeah. I like the sound of that.”

He’s silent for a moment, taking it all in, thinking about last night, this morning, just now… comparing it to every other moment of comfort in his life. Were there any?

He looks down to where you’re snuggled against him. “Babe?”

He can feel your answering hum through his chest. “Hm?”

“Thanks… for taking care of me.”

You look up at him with those beautiful eyes and beautiful smile, the greatest gifts of all.

“Of course, honey,” you say quietly, kissing his chin. “It’s my pleasure.”

________________________________________________________________________

“Do you ever think about it? Having kids?”

The question seemed to come out of nowhere - you had spent the time waiting for the squad cuddling and talking about what other things you wanted to try together or with the others, making sure to listen for his wants and needs. A comfortable silence followed, each of you breathing in the other, until…

“Sometimes. Not a lot, since there’s no call for it right now, but I’ve thought about it.” You look up at him. “Why? Have you?”

“W’ll. Not, uh… not til now. But I… I really liked the idea of having a kid with you.” He won’t meet your eyes, he’s so bashful. Such a sweetheart. “Never thought of anything other than hanging with my brothers, but the thought was kinda… I dunno, nice.”

You smile up at him and kiss his nose, about to answer - and are suddenly overtaken by a huge yawn, your body relaxing into the warmth surrounding you. 

He grins. “Tired, huh?”

You grimace in embarrassment as you finish your yawn. “Mmm… yes. You aren’t?”

“Naw, too hungry. You go ahead and sleep, mesh’la.” He strokes your head and kisses your crown. “I’ll take care of you.”

You can’t help but smile into his chest, enjoying the warmth blooming in yours, letting your heavy eyelids close. “Wrecker…”

“Yeah?”

“I’m really happy.” You breathe him in and sigh out relief.

His hands pause midstroke, but his body stays relaxed.

“... me too, babe.” You can hear the beaming smile in his voice. “I’m really happy too.” He continues his stroking, gentle fingers lulling you to sleep…

-until the door slides open.

“Are you two done?”

Crosshair’s slithery voice is as sardonic as ever. You smirk, your eyes staying closed.

You feel a shift next to you as Wrecker twists to whisper over his shoulder. “Shhhh - yup. Feelin’ much better.”

“Good.” Tech’s voice is, of course, matter of fact, even while quiet. “We have brought food. There is a fair amount-”

“AlRIGHT.” Wrecker whispers in joy, jumps up out of bed, doubles back to pull the blankets over you and kiss you on the head, making you giggle, then heads to the table. “I’m STARVING!”

Hunter’s whisper is sharp. “You di’kut, put on some clothes before you eat.”

You slip off into sleep with a smile, listening to your boys doing what they do best, your heart full of gratitude for every single one.

Yours to care for, as long as you have them.

__________________________________________________________________________

Earlier - The Mess Hall

“So where’s your medic?”

The four batchers look to the end of their table - where two clones with freshly painted armor stand, sneering. 

Tech adjusts his goggles, looking them up and down. “Tending to one of our teammates. He was not feeling well this morning, potentially due to our inoculations yesterday.”

“Why does it matter?” Crosshair’s hiss is sharp, but not quite dangerous. Yet.

The two smirk at each other before looking back to them. 

“Does she happen to be doing that on her back?” asks the one on the left with a mean grin.

All of their heads whip around, Crosshair, Tech, and Hunter tensed. Hunter’s eyes flash in warning. “Care to say that again, trooper?”

The left chuckles. “I think you heard me.”

The right elbows the left, indicating the group with his head. “Probably is. Probably needs it, if she was sniffing around our boys yesterday.” He looks back to the seething squad. “What's the matter? Your squad can’t keep one woman satisfied?”

“That’s enough.”

Echo stands where he is, staring down the other two. In this moment, the others can see his power shine through - this man was an ARC trooper, decorated for his many exemplary missions, a survivor from behind enemy lines, and back out in the field for brothers and Republic. 

And he was irritated.

“I don’t know why you weren’t taught any manners back on Kamino. Maybe you were too distracted by your own insecurities that day.”

The two clones stiffen, slowly bristling- but Echo isn’t done.

“It doesn’t kriffing matter what she does in her private life,” he continues, eyes daring them to interrupt him. “What matters is she’s a trooper, like all of us. She puts her life on the line; fights the same battles we do, without enhanced abilities. She shows up, she works hard, and she cares for a bunch of clones like us, treats us like people,” He punches the table for emphasis, making the regs jump into a defensive stance, “so what else do you really need to know about her?”

The two regs stand, stunned, glancing at each other to think of a comeback- but there isn’t one.

“We all care about her as a member of our squad- so if you’re here to cause her trouble, then we have a problem. Now.” Echo leans forward, hand on the table, his voice getting very low.  “Is there something else you would like to say to us, vode?”

“Oh I think they’ve said enough.” Squad and regs turn to see Captain Case, helmet on, arms crossed. The two reg troopers jump to attention. 

“Mel. Felbourn. Not really showing our battalion in the best light, are ya? I think you owe their medic an apology.” His voice sounds dangerous through the vocoder. “After you finish scrubbing all the public freshers on the ship. Top. To. Bottom.”

“Sir yes sir!” The regs say in unison, stiff as boards.

“Dismissed,” the Captain waves, the two clones hurrying off and away with nary a mumble.

Hunter sits back at the table, turning to face Case. He looks over the Captain with a suspicious gratitude. “You didn’t need to do that.”

They can hear the Captain’s smirk. “I did, actually. They’re my men- and if no one has ‘taught them manners’, well, I’d better start now.”

He takes off his helmet and tucks it under his arm, shaking out his hair a little. “So, did I hear your medic isn’t feeling well?”

“No,” Tech corrects, of course. “Our demolition’s expert was not feeling well, so naturally our medic stayed behind to monitor any potential complications.”

Captain Case winces. “Ah, sorry to hear that. Though I’m not surprised, those inoculations are still new enough. Never know the side effects-”

“Why did you step in?” Crosshair interrupts, voice low and suspicious, glaring over at the reg Captain. “If you’re expecting to get to her through us, you’re wrong.”

Case blinks a few times, then chuckles. “Is that what you think that was?” He shakes his head, saying almost to himself. “You’ve all been hanging around the wrong vode.” 

He looks back up at them, meeting all of their eyes. “Rex and Cody speak highly of you boys, and they don’t do that lightly. Anyone who has earned their respect… well, is definitely worthy of mine.”

He turns to leave. “I’ll leave you to your breakfast. Just know…” he flashes a cheeky grin at them, making eye contact with Hunter. “A girl like that? Make sure to take good care of her.”

Hunter smirks. He supposes he likes this reg after all. 

“You can count on it.”

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

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[rise-my-angel]

Heart of the Great Wolf

13 - Dragged Through the Violence

Paring: Jon Snow x F!Baratheon!Reader (Slow Burn), Robb Stark x F!Baratheon!Reader (Past)

Length: 9.5k

Warnings: angst/hurt comfort, slow burn, reference/allusions to rape, physical violence, torture, nonconsensual sexual language, consensual smut in flashback, consensual orgasm denial in flashback, talk of forced marriage and pregnancy

Notes: The nightmare train just keeps chugging along. Previous Chapter Here, Series Masterlist Here.

Reunions were an odd thing, many spoke of them in reverence and happiness, of joy and relief to find yourself finding people or place that felt long and lost to you. Coming together in a place that give you back a sense of identity, or reminds you of how far you’ve come since the last time. Some found a deep happiness in their reunion, whereas some were the exact opposite. 

The dark of the night, snow lightly falling onto the ground now covered in wreck and blood in the aftermath of a fight was where the first was found. The mutineers of Craster’s Keep lay dead as their aloof attitudes made it easy for Jon and the others to sneak up on them and end the fight before it had any true chance of getting off the ground. 

Much had been lost to him now. The North that was his home lay in the hands of the Boltons under the Lannister control, ripped away from the brother who meant the world to him as well the one person who Jon felt empty without. It was as if he could always sense you before, but now there was a dark space in his heart that was not willing to find any reason to mend. 

Even though it seemed all he once called family was gone, there was one he knew for sure of their fate, now was somewhere out in this same frozen north beyond the Wall he stood currently, but what he was doing out here Jon didn’t know or where to even look. Bran was somewhere in this very North but Jon knew he would never find him in it. Just like another, only this wasn’t Jons brother. This missing one, was like part of his own identity he lost. 

Jon had to send Ghost away that day in the cave. Ghost could understand what was inside Jon’s head sometimes better then himself, and not for a moment would the direwolf had let any of it happen. But he had to, he had come too far to get his eyes inside Mance Rayder’s camp and to fail to complete this now would only mean death awaited him. Prove your worth or die, and proving his worth meant sending his one last means to protect himself away. 

He hadn’t seen Ghost since, and maybe that is what made Jon trick himself. If he pretended he wanted it, if he pretended he wanted her and cared about her it meant that he wasn’t forced into it. Without Ghost to remind him of a truth outside the complicated mess of inside his mind, Jon found no other way to cope with what he was being forced to do then pretend he liked it and he wanted all of this. But then he couldn’t anymore. 

The lies too much, and the warnings of who Ygritte truly was kept coming until then the arrows did as well. Ending the facade and in his dreams is when he found you in a pool of blood fading away only to wake up and be told it was real. He lost his family, his home, his brother, and the woman he actually loved. And what was left to Jon? Nothing but the Watch. Not even Ghost, the only thing he had left that understood him. 

That was, until in the bloody aftermath, his attention was dragged over as Grenn called his name. Looking over to the small open path inside of Craster’s Keep from the Northern entrance came a white four legged figure that as soon as their red eyes found Jon’s grey ones, he felt a bit of himself return enough that he saw nothing else around him. 

Ghost had not been seen since that day, but here he was walking right into the Keep towards him. “Where in Seven Hells?  Come here,” A grin forming on his face as he beckoned his direwolf over, crouching down to meet where his head would be. 

The sight off to many, this pure white and large Direwolf walking up to Jon Snow with a small little whine in the back of his throat as he leaned into the gentle brushing of Jon’s hand against his fur. A creature that many dismissed as a beast, but as Ghost and Jon looked to the other there was nothing else around for that moment. 

He had enough lying to himself about what and who he was or wanted, but as he looked so gently at Ghost? Jon felt more of himself. “I missed you, boy.” Jon smiled in a way he hadn’t since before he left Winterfell. He didn’t have much, hardly any family left, he didn’t even have you left in this world to dream of outside his nightmares of your blood, but Jon did have a duty to do. And with his direwolf back at his side, maybe that would be enough to get Jon through this. 

Little hope was in is life, but you had told Ghost to look out for him. Said that if you ever saw him again, Ghost better have kept him safe. Jon could still see, you knelt down in front of the then smaller direwolf with a gentle touch and affection that none but Jon treated Ghost with. You told Ghost to keep him safe, and Jon wouldn’t dishonour your last wish by sending him away ever again. 

The gods saw fit to reunite Jon with the only last mark of his real identity and he wouldn’t let go of it.

Other reunions weren’t with people though, but places that once which meant something to you. For you though, the conditions weren’t all the dissimilar but vastly opposite of that further north beyond the wall. 

The snow falling to the ground draped the now barren lands in a gorgeous blanket of white, winter had arrived as you arrived yourself, in Winterfell. The last time had been still in the summer, with the royal brigade in toe as you were to marry the man you now had failed. You too were surrounded by blood but not that of others. Your clothes were that of bloody rags hardly resembling the dress you had worn to match Robb at the Twins. 

It was still stained with blood, and there was fresh scars of blood on your skin. Snow and violence proceeded your reunion, but yours was not walking into something of good, but to strip you further of your humanity. Your lip was no longer swollen, but the cut across your bottom lip was scarred red from how difficult it was to heal over. How little it was left to heal, and the scratches and bruises on your face were not large and ugly, but small and subtle. 

Gifts from Ramsay Bolton to remind you of what you would get in larger quantities when his mood struck. Your small cuts stung in the wind, but it was the agony of being on a horse as long as you were with the new other injuries. 

Multiple times as you approached Winterfell, you could feel Theon sneaking glances at you. The dispondant look in your eye and the new wounds that he knew came from one man. You knew there was such little hope left in your eyes as you all came into the main courtyard. 

Years ago, you sat atop a horse in this very place. Looking stern and serious as the King greeted his old friend, “You got fat.” And in this very spot your eyes met Jon’s beautiful grey ones like you were destined by the gods to always drawn to each other no matter what the situation was. Both of you trying to hide away a smirk that was difficult to do as long as you looked at each other. Nothing was like that now, just pain, stares from those who could see your state was unseemly, and your hands tied once more together only in front of you, so you could at least grasp the reins of your own horse. 

Parts of it were run down, the remains of what was lit on fire as a final insult but there too was no welcome here. None who remained in Winterfell accepted the Boltons with anything but a fear for their lives should they do or say anything against them. They all knew what Roose Bolton had done, and no one felt safe now. 

Some you think, may have recognized you. It was difficult, you were clearly unwell, weak, partially tied up and clearly covered in grime, blood, and scattered wounds all over. And your position only spoke to them more as guards all but dragged you onto the ground, shoving you harshly when you stumbled. It made you wince to do so, walking hurt a bit still. He had made sure it would. 

“Fucking all those big, strong wolves made you a fighter, hasn’t it? Unfortunately for you, my lady, but very good for me, I like it when a girl fights back.” 

You had almost given yourself once to a man you always loved, then when you finally did, it was with a husband you grew to love. But now all that remains for you here was being dragged through the violence that left you bleeding and your head in a fog. Both how hard Ramsay liked to slam into the ground, but also from the chaos inside from what came after. 

The Boltons had returned to the Dreadfort from Moat Cailin and the bastard son had been decreed a legitimate son and heir under the word of the now King Tommen. And it all came to you as you dragged yourself up off the ground once he finally saw fit to leave you alone that first night he visited for something more then to speak. Just how truly bleak your life was to be. 

The man himself walking over to you, as you refused to look him in his callous pale blue eyes. “A lovely homecoming for you, my lady. Of course, there must be just a few people missing then you remember, but worry not. We will make sure to give you a fitting reminder of your new life here. Reek,” 

Theon turning to him with a quick startle, his own eyes which had been trying very hard not to look around and see what he too used to have here. Allowing him the small chance to be Theon Greyjoy, letting him see you, something in him was stirring but he couldn’t figure out what and neither could you see it. 

“Prepare a hot bath for the lady, and bring her some fresh clothes. I can’t have my bride walking around in filth as if she’s just a thing like you. That wouldn’t be right, would it?” 

You bit your tongue as your eyes stared hard into the ground. If they thought there was a chance you would allow them to dangle you in front of the north and pretend to be something they all know you aren’t? Then Roose and Ramsay were less clever then they saw themselves as. There was no chance of that.

They had no idea how much you’d been thinking about how that will never happen, if it was the only thing you ever did again. You wanted to throw up as you were eventually led down the halls of the castle. It looked just the same but like that of a stranger too now. So much emptier, colder and more grim with people who had no right to call it their own and no one that belonged there occupy it. 

You had been in these halls so often that you could give a grand tour with your eyes closed, but these halls felt as foreign as those in the Dreadfort to you. The rooms that seemed to be the ones you would all occupy, were not the right ones. Not the main ones. If you were a little more in your right mind, you would have realized there were many places in the castle you would never be allowed to step anywhere near now.

Passing a hall where you knew to find each Stark once, to a different set of corridors until arriving at a partially open door. The guard roughly turned you to him, cutting the restrains free before nodding for you to go in. Bracing a hand slowly on the door frame, you stepped inside with a narrow brow and confused tilt of your head at the sight. One of guest rooms made for such a task, a strong wooden bath sat right in the middle, water steaming from the tops and just at the wardrobe behind it was Walda.

A cheery little smile on her face as she turned to see you before glancing to the guards behind, “I trust you gentleman know it isn’t proper to watch a lady bathe?” As the door closed behind you, it left you and her alone in the room. Walda turning to you with a sigh, “Honestly, they think keep an eye on her means they can never stop looking, no matter how creepy it is.” 

Stepping closer, you could see soaps and small vials laid out. The cold Northern air meshing with the water in front of you, but such kindness felt like a trap. It was too many times a trap. You were a little more blunt then you intended the tone to be as you asked, “What are you doing here?” 

Walda took no notice of it, just coming towards you like it was not a strange sight at all for you both to be here. “Roose told me you’ve been through the ringer, and you do look it. He suggested you may want a helping hand getting settled into your new home and we’ve spent no time together haven’t we?” You hesitantly let her grab your arm and bring you over to the other side of the room as she continued to talk. “We’re going to be Boltons together one day after all. And I know you’re older then myself, but I’ll still be like a mother to you when you marry Ramsay so I may as well start getting used to that now.”

You were quiet as Walda moved to undo the laces at the back of your dress, your eyes strained to the fire in the background of the room as you fought to keep your pounding heart from exploding at such a thought. She went on but you heard but muffled sounds in the fog of your head. 

Kill the King in the North and his Queen, but when you had survived Roose Bolton came up with a new use for you. Legitimize his own monster of a son, and have him marry the once Queen in the North when he is ready to strike to seize the Kingdom as his own. Keep you dead until he was ready to flex his new power by publically dangling an heir to them and thus creating a stronger foothold in the North then the very Lannisters who gave it to him. 

You didn’t die beside Robb, and yet now the gods thought you would stand by and marry into the family who ruined everything? Marry a vile man who had...you didn’t think further. If you pretended it never happened, pretended that it was not real as it was to continue to happen then you didn’t need to say or think of the words at all. 

Ramsay would not marry you yet, but he didn’t let that stop him to show you what married life would be like with him. The door opened, bringing you from your thoughts once more as Theon came in, with a bundle in his hands. Walda paused her movements just as she was helping pull the long sleeves down, “Sit them over there.” 

Theon putting what looked like a fresh set of clothes down before placing himself against the wall, hands clasped in front of him as he tried to look as if he was not there. Walda thought nothing as she pulled the fabric off your skin, certain places needing a good tug as the dried blood stuck to your skin. “The guards following you everywhere might get tiresome, Ramsay suggested giving you Reek to watch over you. Make sure you don’t accidentally walk into trouble, take care of things for you.” 

She seemed to treat it like Theon wasn’t a person, but an object to obey orders as she thought not of how much she was pulling off you. She also said nothing of the extend of wounds and scars on your skin as she did so. Not the arrow wound in your upper arm-

You had tried desperately to hit him with a blade but an array of arrows shot into you to knock you back to the ground. Your stomach soaked in dried blood as she uncovered that too without a care. 

Theon however, you knew was seeing a different story. The cuts on your face were one thing, but purples and yellows and greens along with red welts and cuts sat across various parts of your body that were not there before. From your chest and back with longer slashes, down to your hips and lower, around your upper thighs and leading to between them as there was the truth of what Theon had been trying to figure out on the journey here. 

To Walda your bare state was just something to get scrubbed down, to you it was an agony you would kill not just others to stop, and to Theon? It was a horror as your bare frame was littered in the evidence of what Ramsay was really doing in the darkness. 

“I can do this myself, you don’t need to help me.” 

Climbing into the water, your face gave away the sting of the heat washing over your body and hitting any sensitive mark or open wound. The one on your stomach the only one noticed you couldn’t feel the pain from as you settled. Walda moved by you, and part of your mind wondered if she was used to this sort of thing with the sheer amount of people in her family. “No, of course you can. But it’s always nice to have someone help you now and again. And if we’re going to be family, it can’t be too early to start treating each other like it.” 

Oh how you felt sick. How you couldn’t physically see that scenario play out and you knew you would never find out. You have a family- had a family. Had more then one, was ready to bring new life into that family with Robb, but now that was all gone. And if no one but these people knew you were even alive, maybe you really didn’t have any family now. “Suppose so.” 

Voice but a mutter from you, starting to weakly scrub away at your skin with every pass over a bruise making you wince. Walda had added something to the water around you, the scent passing your face and hitting you with a sweetness. It was very sweet, too much so it made you take pause to readjust to the overwhelming smell. “I always add a little something, try to impress. Though I suppose I’m married, not really needing to do much of that now.” She gently nudged at you, your eyes flying up to nothing with a sharp look as you tried not to flinch away. “You on the other hand, can’t hurt to give you a little something extra to impress your husband to be.” 

Robb’s soft smile and gentle hands that would run over your stomach flashed by your eyes as it constricted your heart and lungs. “I already was married.” 

A sigh leaving her, it wasn’t a fake tone Walda spoke with but one that felt naive almost. “I know it must hurt, but sometimes things happen for a reason. Who knows, maybe the gods were just putting you on the path to meet the one you’re supposed to be with.” 

You didn’t want to lash out at her, but the one you were supposed to be with wasn’t anything these people said. You stood by the Weirwood tree outside these castle walls and the old gods recognized your life with Robb together. You were supposed to come back here with him, with your son and find a life as the ones to rule the North together. 

Ramsay’s eyes weren’t even grey.

She continued to fill the space of your silence. “At least Ramsay is a handsome lad, and you’re rather pretty underneath all of this.” Her hands prodded at your skin and still grimy hair as she begun to move to stand behind you. “Losing your husband must be awful, but you’ll have little Northern dark haired babies to love before you know it.” 

As Walda reached up to run her hands through your knotted hair, you remembered a dream that wasn’t bound in blood. It was a baby, a tiny son with a fierce attitude and curls that were dark enough to verge on black. The dream that night had them with your own eyes, but a face that radiated like his fathers like the sun against the water. You thought you knew who that child looked like, but when your mind tried to find that dream again, it wasn’t your eyes. Nor shining blue. 

No, this one as you saw him in your mind, dark almost black haired curls and face all the same, but now looking up at you were beautiful grey eyes. But right as you saw it, you could feel Walda’s hands gently running through your hair and those dark curls suddenly were older, different as they leaned over your shoulder to press a kiss to the free skin there. 

Large hands, rough against the fingertips but careful in strength ran through your hair like they did many times. Untangling the mess as he did it behind you in a looser braid, always making it feel like a massage and you’d lean back into him. His deep rasp chuckling into your ear before telling you to sit straight. 

You flinched that time. Moving from her touch right away as the water sloshed along the sides and onto the stone below. Theon’s eyes followed with their usual unsettled wide eyes but now with a concern that was not of the name they gave him. Moving to the middle out of her grasp your voice raised with a stammer to it. 

“Stop- I’m sorry, I just would rather do this myself. Okay?” A look of genuine regret in her eyes, Walda backed away apologizing. You huffed, relaxing a but from your protective curl into yourself. “I appreciate the effort, but I would rather do this alone. Please.” 

Relenting, you felt bad for your harsh attitude towards the girl but you couldn’t sit there with that feeling in your hair and the images in your head and pretend you were okay. She begun to leave, “I’ll come get you later, walk to have our first meal as a family together if you’d like?” 

You bit your tongue, hardly looked at her face but nodded. Walda was trying, and it wasn’t her fault you hated every second of it. Leaving you alone as if the other person in the room was not supposed to be acknowledged as there. Only he was, and in the few seconds of quiet you wondered if he himself remembered that. 

Slowly moving to grasp at the cloth draped over the side you honestly realized there was no point in trying to cover from him, what was the point of modesty when the underneath was as unattractive as it was painful. Who would want you looking like this but the one who did it to you? And maybe that was part of the idea. Escape and who would be out there who wants you? 

“I don’t know who he’s trying to torment more with this, you or me.” 

You didn’t look at him as you had spoke, you weren’t sure you wanted to in that moment. The people in this room were so far away from yourself and Theon Greyjoy. They didn’t even allow Theon his own name, and you? A good part of you felt like it didn’t follow you from the Twins. Theon’s voice was quiet from his corner of the room. Barley heard over the light sloshing of the water. “It only gets worse. The more you fight him.” 

Hands pausing before your face twisted in an exhausted anger as you moved to scrub the grime off you harder. “Good.” Betraying yourself, you let your eyes flicker to him who was trying not to react with any emotion, but Theon’s eyes now it seemed gave every bit of him away. “Roose Bolton took everything from me, and didn’t even have the courtesy to let me die beside Robb. They want anything else, then let them work for it.” 

Wincing the more you washed lower, the sting in your eyes had you choking it all back. Even in private, even only in front of Theon you couldn’t let yourself cry. It would just be another thing they got from you, your tears. In an instant you sunk under the water, letting it soak into your hair. The feeling was something relieving, the muffled quiet and complete isolation keeping you under for longer then you should have been. By the time you rose back up, you breathed in heavily before running the cloth over your eyes. 

Theon had stepped forward a few feet, his arm partially outstretched like he wasn’t sure which side of him should win out as you looked at him. Almost like he could tell what you wanted to do, what your solution to escape really was becoming and couldn’t let it happen. You still saw him as a person, you still saw him as Theon. If you were gone what was left of him but Reek? 

You gently nodded to some of the vials on a dresser with a small voice, “Would you bring me those, please?” His dark eyes trained intensely on you with hands threatening to shake. As you opened one, once more hit with the overwhelmingly sweet scent, you begun running it through your hands and down your hair. Theon, had not moved from his spot near the dresser. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, but...what did he do to you, Theon?” 

He fought with himself as you watched him, a good minute he did so. Eyes far away as he looked to nothing before nodding to himself. Tentatively, he looked to you before sitting down facing the opposite direction on the outside of the water. He wouldn’t look at you as he spoke, and you wouldn’t ask him too. 

Ramsay had tortured him in any way that amused his sick mind, cut at him in some ways and sliced on him in others. But then he described the girls. The girls who came in all pretty and seductive until Ramsay interrupted the game he set up. Your hands wrapped around your legs and you never once looked the other in the eye. 

It was your fault, you let Roose send Ramsay his way to handle it. You were right there helping to send this man a hellish nightmare that cut off more then you could have imaged. There was nothing you could say, but force back small tears wishing to roll down in the quiet. Theon didn’t deserve this, no one did. The man you had known for over a decade, someone who was a good friend and had become someone belonging in the North as you had. 

He betrayed you and Robb, but this was a punishment that went beyond any semblance of justice, this was beyond anything either of you had ever thought of to him. It was cruel and so severely inhumane and yet both of you sat there as the Bolton’s playthings. Too weak and tormented to find any way to escape beyond your wishes of death. 

“You’re still Theon.” Meeting his eyes, your hearts both felt too heavy. “As long as I’m here, I’m still me and you’re still Theon. Even if it’s just when it’s us, don’t let him take that away too.” The pains were both still to real and too raw, but the small distance between your hands as they both rested beside the other on the edge of the wooden tub stayed there for a while until the water was cold. 

Moving to stand, Theon on instinct jumped up to wrap a towel around you making you almost flinch away on instinct in return. Turning to him, you both looked like the kids you were when you first met, not the adults, the leaders you had once grown to become. Only then you might have both made some joke about the oddness of this exact situation, but in this day there was no laughter or reason for to be found.

“They want me to marry him.” You looked up at him with a darker look in your eye. “Ramsay. When they have a better hold on the North, they want me to marry him and so our son would have some claim to rule. If there’s some part of you that still wants to atone for what you’ve done, you’ll just slit my throat in my sleep before that day comes.” 

Neither of you spoke after that. There was no joke in your eyes or the certainty in your voice. You meant it. If there was no one left in the world who would look for you, cared, or even knew you were alive? Then the world would be no worse off if you found a permanent way out. 

“Ah, there she is. I knew there was a pretty bride under all that filth.” 

Every inch of his voice you hated, the fake sincerity that fooled not a single soul. It was coated in a maliciousness designed to poke at the worst parts of you. No doubt a coincidence that he used terms and sweetness that Robb used towards you, but you hated how tainted it made it. You loved the gentle way Robb would describe you with, and now those same words you wanted to tear up and feed to those vicious hounds chained up outside. 

They took Robb from you, your son, and now the very memory of your intimate moments together were being replaced with a terrorizing pain both on your body and in your heart. What more of him was to be stripped away from you? 

Ramsay pulling a seat out for you that made you close up, his hand brushing your shoulder as he tucked you politely into the table and you found no desire to consume anything that had been placed in front of you. Roose finding it in himself to speak. “I hope you find your new accommodations adequate, my lady.” 

Eyes peeling up to find Roose’s as he and Walda sat in front of you, he seemed to just continue on as if you being here was normal, as if this was a family dinner, as if he had any right to be in this place and pretend like you were as new to it as they were. “I do, thank you.” 

It was not the tone of the woman who Roose had served with for three years, and that was the way he wanted it. “This isn’t your first time in Winterfell, if I’m not mistaken?” Oh you wanted to take the plate in front of you and smash it down his throat, but you nodded. “Good, I was hoping you could take the time tomorrow to show Walda around. It is a big castle, and I’m sure she would appreciate a female friend at her side.” 

Looking to her, Walda played the part of the kind wife with ease. Like who these men were, and who you were and why you were here did not get taken into account. “You don’t need to show me the woods or anything, I’m not much of an outside girl if you hadn’t guessed.” The little laugh light on her lips that you wished you could find amusement in. 

Maybe in another life, you would have liked the girl. You nodded though, raising your glass to your lips but finding the wine thick and bitter as it went down your throat before speaking. “I would love to.” 

Were there not guards to keep you under their watchful eyes, you had a few places you would want to go see for your own sanity. But Roose and Ramsay knew where to let you go, and none of them included spaces that would let you simmer in the remnants of the last home you knew, and the family you had joined with so much love. 

The noise in your head was loud, blocking out the truth and the pain of where the glass had smashed against your cheek. Theon said you would be making it worse for yourself, and indeed that was the truth. A glass thrown in defence, only to have your face smashed right up against where it lay and scratch deeper at your cheek. 

At least you could be thankful this was one of the rare times Ramsay didn’t speak much to you directly. His focus on cruelty and not whatever vile he could spit from his mouth in your ear. He too focused on another after he dragged Theon into the room with the intentions of making him watch, “Maybe once upon a time, I would have made you do this part Reek, have you bond with my bride,” Having dragged you back to speak into your ear in a loud whisper by a painful grip on your hair. “But he doesn’t have the right equipment anymore, now does he?” 

Claiming to him, as he shoved your face against the glass you tried throwing into his own face, “You see Reek, the best part about my bride being a sad little widow, is that I have no reason to preserve her innocence do I? She’s already been well broken in by the wolves, hasn’t she.” 

It wasn’t the physical pain that you couldn’t handle, it was being so in the moment. You couldn’t think about what was happening and be forced to endure it at the same time, he could watch you bleed and wince but he would not see you cry over it. 

Instead, you coped almost in a way that should’ve made you feel even more guilty. It was Robb and your son together you were dragged away from, but it wasn’t his touch or warm soothing voice you drifted away too. You didn’t mean to, but it was the only thing your mind could desperately cling onto that had sent you far enough away that you couldn’t remember where you were. 

It was in the outside you weren’t allowed to go to. The summer late in it’s years but still warm enough that snow didn’t often touch the North so heavily yet. It was a small cliff you were on, overlooking a denser part of the wolfswood hidden away from people who didn’t traverse far too long to get there. It was a place to be alone, and a place that didn’t need to hide what you were doing. 

Truly you were cursed to have fallen in love Jon Snow of all men, you had thought in that memory. You both were sat atop a rock once looking out to the woods and making jokes with him. Only when you had admitted something, in complete passing, it turned the air. Now, you were living the reason why to come to that place. 

Still sitting on the rock yourself, but Jon was now on his feet standing between your legs as he had pulled your face up to press his lips to yours. His kiss spoke so much of what he struggled to ever say, hardly giving you space to breathe before he would pull you right back in. One hand drifting downwards to bunch the skirt of your dress up tightly in his fist before yanking it up. His other gently raked through your hair.

Your hands had grasped his shoulders as you whined into his lips, rough calloused hand running flat across your thigh before running on it’s innermost side and upwards. He smiled as he gently deepened the kiss, coaxing your tongue to follow his guide and brush against his. He had no more experience then you did, but you still hated how he so easily found every way to tease and overwhelm your senses.

Fingers finally brushed between your legs, and even through the fabric hiding you from him, you jumped at the spark. Jon’s tender assurance was deep as he pulled from your lips enough to gently run them across your jaw, hand running along the back of your hair soothingly. “You’re alright. Not here to rush you, just let me explore a bit?” 

You nodded eagerly, both the nerves running through you but desperate to let him do exactly what he wanted. You should never have admitted you didn’t know what an orgasm felt like, because now he was determined to show you but in a way you didn’t expect. 

Spent so much time working you up with his kiss alone, and now he didn’t even get to the one thing he said he wanted to do, show you what it would feel like. Jon was so quick to get riled up over your comment but so damned slow at doing anything about it. And worse, he enjoyed it, it seemed. A hum in his throat as his lips brushed against your neck everytime you shook slightly.  

Fingers running up and down your covered entrance until he let out his own shaking breathe, feeling the fabric grow wet under his touch. He pulled you into another kiss at that, moving suddenly to dance his fingertips under the fabric and run just along the top of your mound. Your nails digging into his shoulders as you let him take your breathe away once more. 

When Jon pulled back, his eyes were so dark, his lips parted as he breathed heavy pants trying to reign himself in. “I want you to tell me, do you want this?” Leaning down slightly to make sure he caught your direct eyeline. “I want to make you feel good, but only if you tell me you want it too.” 

You paused, the need between your legs so close to where he was touching burned and you wondered how not normal this might be. One of your hands slid up to gently run through his long curls, “Please,  Jon. Please show me.” 

The smile on his lips was so genuine and gentle that it surprised you with how harsh it was when he actually kissed you once more. A kiss that distracted you as his hand slipped underneath to lightly run his fingers along your wetness. You seized in his touch as he moved to kiss your cheek, “Hey, hey, relax for me.” 

Nudging you to look up at him, his fingers still gently running along your slit and up to your clit and back with as light a touch as he could manage. “I’m sorry-”

Shaking his head he used his free hand to run along the cup the back of your neck and pull you close, “I don’t want you to be sorry, I want you to tell me if you need me to stop.” You said no, many times over like you couldn’t figure out why you felt so out of your mind but Jon kissed you again and you relaxed a bit. 

Finally, he pressed more firmly against your clit as you cried into his mouth, your body arching into his chest as your hands wrapped around the back of his neck. Had you asked Jon in that moment he would’ve told you how difficult you had made it to control himself. How much he wanted to sink those same fingers deep inside you just to hear the kind of sounds you’d make then, to know just what it felt like inside you, even just with this.

Not too much pressure or too fast, he rubbed tight circles against you. A changing pattern as he carefully figured out what worked you up the most it seemed. Your core insides were spinning like an iron coil twisting so tight it could snap as it burned. You moaned his name as he ran his fingertips over it like he would when he’d stand behind you some moments alone, running his hands down the front of your dress and teasing your breasts, just to hear your breathe stutter. And you had thought that made you feel worked up.

Quickly you felt that tightening inside of you strengthen, your hands holding onto his hair tighter as you arched into his chest completely. And just as something inside you was about to break, it faded away in a painful quickness just as his touch did. 

Pulling back to look at him with a breathless needy confusion, “Wha-why did you-” Jon just grabbed your cheeks and kissed you deeply once more. Keeping you pressed tightly against him before his hand slid back down as he felt you relax again. A small groan of his own into the kiss as he could feel you tense up as he returned. This time his touch a little firmer and rhythm a little faster that had you moan much more freely. 

Once more he build you up before pulling back, nuzzling your cheek despite your annoyed whine. “Jon, fuck, why won’t you let me-”

He kissed your cheek and spoke deeply with his thick rasp in your ear. “I thought you didn’t know what it feels like, maybe that’s exactly it.” 

You narrowed your eyes to pull back and look at him, his touch against your clit but stopped moving entirely. “I don’t, I’m sorry please just..I need you, so much, please.” Jon kissed you gently once more. A hint of a dark tint in his grey eyes when he pulled back, told you that he just might be enjoying keeping you so on an edge. 

Keeping you pressed close, his tone was much softer then before. “I know, but I’m not doing this to torment you, I just want you to remember this. Will you trust me?” 

You did, you told him yes and just as his touch grew more against what you needed, your mind begun to spin. The man in front no longer Jon, but the rougher and more greedy touch of Robb. His blue eyes finding yours before a hand ran across your stomach. Looking down though, it was soaked in blood and as you looked back up to Robb his face was fading fast. 

Heart racing at how you only just got him and now you bled out in front of him as his eyes were fading in front of your and you couldn’t stop him from leaving first. But he did, Robb’s image burned away and all that was left was where you were now. 

This wasn’t anything like your memory, it wasn’t anything like the man this family took away from you either. Your stomach twisted and burned when there was nothing to aggravate it and all you could see as you stared to nothing was the fading of Robb’s eyes before you and how disgusting you were for not following him in it. Not even a son was left behind, just a wife who outlived a promise you made to him and forced at the no mercy of Ramsay Bolton and his father only using you for the gain of power. 

Theon was made to watch the whole time. Many nights he was made to watch. Some nights were brutal, the further you tried to drift away into your mind, Ramsay would order you to look up, look at Theon and him you. Watch the other as it happened and there was simply no words to describe how that felt for either of you. 

It was supposed to be a torture for his mind as much as it was a physical one for you, but all he could see was his failing. He betrayed Robb, he betrayed the Starks and the North that treated him as much as one of their own. Robb wanted his head no doubt, but as he was forced to watch what his captor did to you, to the woman Robb loved and let it happen? 

Reek was watching, but Theon was angry. He betrayed his brother enough and he died thinking Theon murdered Bran and Rickon too. Reek would do as ordered, but Theon could think and Ramsay wouldn’t know. He couldn’t know, but he was not the man Theon swore his sword too and maybe he should find a way to do right by the last person Robb left behind. 

He knew you wouldn’t marry Ramsay, never would allow yourself to even have a child with him. You had both of those things, and you felt desperate on the inside to not let the things that come after Robb be this. You were stolen your chance to stay with him, and you would rather die then let Ramsay take Robb’s place. And Theon knew that you were willing to take that action on your own, the closer the Boltons would get to marrying you. 

As you were left, your eyes found Theon’s, and when they were dragged away from you and left alone on the floor of your room, you wished you could tell Robb it’s okay. He’s been through enough, it’s okay to forgive him and that it’s you he should be ashamed and angry with. You loved Robb and you betrayed him by letting any of this happen. 

Jon wondered if he should be ashamed for what he wasn’t actually feeling, but he didn’t. If he had actually loved her, then her loss would be devastating to him, but it wasn’t. He lost his brothers, men like Grenn and Pyp. Those hurt so much deeper then her death did. Far more. He had listened to Olly’s story of what had been done to his village, his family, and he knew that was an Ygritte that Jon tried to pretend he didn’t know. 

That was a woman who had forced Jon into that cave, sent away the last companion he had and forced him into fucking her to prove he wasn’t a crow anymore. That was who died in Castle Black that night and Jon couldn’t pretend like it was someone he loved, or ever loved. Leave that false version of himself behind too.

Instead, as he had gone to Mance Rayder he knew getting out of there alive might be impossible. Jon had dreamt of the horrors he’s seen and the blood around your body every single night and if there was no one left out in the world to care about him, then he would do one last thing for the only family he had left. The brothers who fought and died beside him, and had looked to him in the darkest part of the night. 

If he did one thing right, maybe it would be this. Only, that didn’t happen either. 

What did happen, was an attack none suspected. What did happen, was men riding into the camp north of the wall dressed in armours Jon knew not to be from the free folk. Men with skills that he’d seen as soldiers use, and banners that he didn’t recognize but hit something strange inside him. 

The day they found the direwolves, the group had come across a Stag lying dead in the grass, it’s stomach opened up and spilled out from whatever killed it. And for a long time Jon only remembered that image as he could see you, laying out on your side bleeding from the stomach. Like the Stag was a warning to Jon of what would happen to you.

Only the Stag on these banners, weren’t the Baratheon ones he knew. This stag sat in a heart that was set on fire. The men with such a sigil were coordinated, well timed and took the remainder of Mance’s army by total suprise and forced the King Beyond the Wall to end the fight before it could slaughter what remained. 

Jon had managed to hold off the onslaught at Castle Black, but as the leader of the men in this charge came into view he realized he knew what happened. Sam and Maester Aemon had sent out pleas, begs for help from the leaders of the Seven Kingdoms, the Kings that remained for help in a battle beyond the wars they fought each other for. 

He didn’t need to have met him before to know who it was who had come to their aid. Older, much more rough and serious in every way but he could see it clear as day. He knew what was coming, yet still wasn’t prepared for it. Still too raw, as the second man spoke. 

“This is Stannis Baratheon, the one true King of the Seven Kingdoms.” And suddenly Jon’s heart weighed more in his chest at such a truth then anything else. The King who had answered their call for aid, was a man his father died for, the father of the very woman Jon would never let go of again. 

Everything he had heard made sense as he met the man, and yet there was something intimidating about him. Something of his confidence and skill that was not often found in Jon’s life anymore. Mance beside Jon, who clearly felt none of the strangeness in his heart as he spoke. “We’re not in the Seven Kingdom’s and you’re not dressed for this weather.” 

It was a such strange time to think it, but what came into his head was, so it wasn’t just a you thing. The amount of times in Winterfell Jon would spend forcing you to wear anything warmer, wasn’t you being stubborn alone. He wondered just how many traits he would find you shared with this man, and if all of them hurt as much as such a tiny one already did. 

The conversation it seemed, continued around him. “I’m not here to slaughter beat dogs. Their fate depends on their King.” Jon had no understanding of why, as he thought to himself that Mance wouldn’t break, he saw you. In a place that he didn’t know, and you stood just like Mance did now. Sure of yourself, and brave in your actions knowing they were the right ones. 

As the remaining free folk were taken away, and his direction turned to Jon, he had a strange feeling the look in Stannis’s eyes were that of recognition. 

The one next to him, older and more grey and white in his hair spoke with a much different cadence then that of the King next to him. Quick spoken, and something he recognized as less refined and more of something like a common tongue. “What’s a man of the Night’s Watch doing in a wildling camp?” 

It was the truth, only perhaps with a few details left out that were too complicated to explain Jon’s state of mind. “I was sent to discuss terms with the King Beyond the Wall.” 

The man spoke to him further as the King only watched him with a curious eye. “You’re speaking to the one true King, boy. You will address him as Your Grace.”

Oh he knew all too well this was the King, he knew painfully. This was the King that got his father’s head chopped off and begun the very wars that left his family destroyed by now. His voice was rough, more tense then he should’ve been but there was no stopping it once he opened his mouth. 

“I know he’s the King. My father died for him.” Looking to the man, he tried not to think about how much of you he could see in the way the King watched him. A curious look that wasn’t marred in a judgment but a trust in his words. “My name is Jon Snow, your grace. I’m-” 

But Stannis finished the introduction himself, much to Jon’s and the man beside him’s suprise. “I know who you are. You’re Ned Stark’s son. Your father was an honourable man.” 

How you managed to keep so calm and collected as often as you did in your life must have been a skill you inherited from Stannis, because it took all of Jon’s remaining will power to keep himself even remotely together. Thinking about his father was painful enough without seeing the man he had died for.

“He was, your grace.” 

No doubt he had come here with a plan, a plan Jon was curious as to how it landed them surprising in an attack beyond the wall of all places. But he was genuine in his ask to Jon of, “What do you think he’d have done with him?” Looking to Mance beside him still, watching with a strange curiosity himself.

He could only hope he knew his father well enough, and his head and heart too cloudy to realize that as much as Jon saw you in Stannis Baratheon as they stood there, Stannis could easily see Eddard Stark in Jon as he spoke honestly. “I was this man’s prisoner once. He could have tortured me, he could have killed me, but he spared my life. I think my father would have taken him prisoner, listened to what he had to say.” 

But with one last detail, he suspected that this was a man who would believe what was coming, Jon also told him, “If my father had seen the things that I’ve seen, he’d also tell you to burn the bodies before nightfall. All of them.” 

As he looked at Stannis, Jon had too many questions to ask about you, and none of the heart to speak a single one of them. He barley spoke about you since your death, it was something that only made him fall deeper into a darkness that made him hate himself for ever pretending someone could replace you. 

It was later with Tormund that Jon had told him he didn’t love her. He never did and he won’t stand here and lie about it, or let others lie about him anymore. “It was be with her, lay with her, say I loved her or I’d be long dead. If she loved me, it was only someone I was pretending to be. That’s all there was to it. I can’t be sorry when the woman I really loved was slaughtered like an animal, while I was pretending to love Ygritte just to save my own life.” 

The wild orange bearded man didn’t speak of it, but there was something in the crow’s painful honesty that caught his attention. And he had plenty of time to think on it. “He your King now?” Tormund had later asked him.  

And Jon was honest, the life he held outside of the Night’s Watch no longer existed. Everyone in it was dead and gone, and he didn’t have a clue how to feel about it. “I don’t have a King.” He paused, and spoke the truth to only the second person in his life before he left Tormund down in the cells. His back turned and his voice rough as ever. “But, it was his daughter I loved.” 

He gave the man no time to have a response. Only Sam had known that. Samwell Tarley and Tormund Giantsbane, a strange duo for Jon to confess his heart too, they were. But the longer he thought about it, Jon had a strange, unsettled feeling that the King himself, already knows it too. 

Stannis Baratheon watched the man carefully. Much of Eddard Stark was in him in values and appearance, it was that which made it easy for him to know this wasn’t just any man of the Night’s Watch. Then he begun to talk, and it all pieced itself together before he ever had to ask.

He recognized Jon Snow because he was clearly a younger image of Eddard Stark but with black hair and a dark look beyond his eyes. One that Stannis knew came from the horrors, both of them were aware was the true threat. But he also recognized Jon Snow, because he was exactly as you described him as over the years. 

There was a pain in his eyes though as he looked at Stannis, and it only made him wonder. That was a pain he knew was lost to more then just someone who was his friend. And the way despite what he knew was a deep closeness, that Jon not a single time ever came close to bringing you up. He could tell that there was more beyond that emotion then Jon wanted people to see. 

What it was Melisendre was seeing, he did not know and Stannis was losing the patience to let her find out. Something had been bothering him ever since learning of your death. She would claim she could see the same visions in the flames, but he knew all too well his daughter and the wolf she spoke of were long dead. 

She would speak of you, but Stannis only felt the reminder of how broken they had parted ways. It was Davos who had to remind him in the end of what truly mattered, that his hubris to take the Throne had blinded him for too long and by the time he recognized it, you and Robb Stark both were dead. 

Slaughtered by the rumours sounded. You and Robb had come to Stannis and his ambition to his rights had left both of you vulnerable to the cursed traitors who killed you. If he had done things differently, then you may have lived, both of you and then he wouldn’t have a new fight on his hands just to take the North from the Boltons who killed you. 

It was as Stannis watched Jon in the yard, training the new recruits, did something else click. The way he guided them through things, some of the basics, and the specific movements that were unique to only one other person he’d seen use, a more graceful style. It was different, he was larger, older, and stronger but the foundations of that style were there that first day Stannis started to pick up the task himself to keep you on track.

You never said who it was who started you on it, afraid that somehow it would get them into trouble, but you already begun and Stannis felt it would be a waste not to continue. And as he watched more now, it was the first time he had any kind of a real smile in a very long time. It seemed fitting to him that after all these years, in this place, in these events, did the answer finally reveal itself.

The person who first taught you to use a sword he realized, was Jon Snow. 

[oceansssblue]

~[INDEPENDENT ONE-SHOTS]

[THE BAD BATCH]– "ONE HUG AWAY"

HUNTER/F READER 💖💔

TRAVELLING WITH THE BATCH FOR QUITE SOME TIME NOW, HUNTER AND YOU HAVE GROWN TO BE THE BEST OF FRIENDS. BUT FRIENDS DON'T FEEL LIKE YOU DO AFTER JUST ONE –OR MAYBE TOO MANY– HUGS, RIGHT?

I JUST WANTED AN EXCUSE TO HUG HUNTER OKAY?

WARNINGS: PTSD–EXPLICIT WAR NIGHTMARES (BLOOD&FAMILY LOSS) IN THE FIRST PART 💔 (CAN SKIP IF YOU WANNA), OTHERWISE PURE FLUFF 💖.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

You have a recurring nightmare. Sometimes it's just the smell; smoke and ashes, and the rotting skin of the deceased bodies that pile around you being burnt. Your nose scrunches in your sleep and you turn to your side, trying to get rid of the stench of blood and death. It doesn't usually work; and it doesn't this time, either.

Sometimes it progresses to images. Flashes of endless battalions of droids and endless battalions of clones; mixed with your own people in between, the numbers of the three groups reducing drastically each day the war drags on. It used to be beautiful, your planet, with it's peculiar blue grass and vibrant flowers; tall delicate trees and a fascinating wildlife. Now everything is mutted to orange, grey and black; fire and the shattered debris of the capital left behind.

The images turn real with sounds. It's a slow transition. It starts as a distant distorted echo, as if you were listening to something underwater. Then it blasts; roaring in increasing intensity until your ears ring and you shake unconsciously in your sleep, trashing around in your bunk.

Screams. Orders. Cries. Begging for help. Tears in your eyes. Smoke. Fire. Blood, dripping from the open gash of your shoulder and the shot wound on your side. Where are they? You can't see them. Are they safe? Are they...?

You shout their names. The tears keep streaming down your face, wetting your cheeks in real life too. You whimper in your sleep, your body shaking in place.

You can't see them again. You beg not to. But the "you" in your nightmare turns around, slowly, almost recreatively; and then...

"No!" You wake up crying, no restraint whatsoever in how you do.

You weren't even aware of it; of the way your body replicated the same emotions of that damned day of your past while sleeping in your bunk in the Marauder, surrounded by your boys, the family you have now.

You take a deep breath –a weak, stuttering thing–. Your hands quickly find their way to the collar of your t-shirt, tugging it down harshly to expose the scar on your shoulder. Your eyes flicker over every inch.

Another

deep

breath.

Your heartbeat hammers in your chest. Your trembling hands slowly pull up the end of the shirt to reveal your side as well; another scar etched in place.

You touch them. You breathe. You're safe. That had been the past; and while your loss had been heartbreaking and terrible, you were not alone in your present. You had the Batch; you were not back there.

Your breathing pattern starts to slow; your heartbeat still protesting madly in your chest. You let your shirt drop back to place and sigh, still sitting in the middle of your bunk. You take a glance around. You hope you haven't woken up any of them; Maker knows they need the sleep, after last night. You specially hope you haven't startled...

Hunter. He's laying on his bunk with his torso propped up on his elbows; gaze stady and intent on your shape. You can barely see him in the darkness of the room; just his siluete and the weight of his heavy stare. He knows. He can hear your heartbeat, your breathing. He could hear your quiet whimpers and cries, before, maybe even smell your tears. Hell, he can probably guess what the dream was all about. After all, he had been the one to help her escape the wrath of the Separatists. He had seen the destruction of her planet, too.

A powerful need to go to him wrecks you. Your fingers tremble, and a choked sound threatens to pour out of your lips. You hesitate for just a second. Hunter and you have never really been that close before –fellowship, fondness and polite respect, sure, but not that level of raw affection–; and you don't want to bother him. Or make him feel weird. Or like he has to take care of you out of duty as the good human being he is but not really wanting to do so. But you need him. You do.

You cross the small space between both of your bunks as noiseless as posible, wavering on your tip-toes. He tracks every one of your movements; chin tilting up slightly to look up at you when you finally stand in front of him. You play with your own hands for a moment; feeling uncertain and restless in the expectant silence. You can see him a tiny bit better now; long hair –a bit of a mess without his bandana on–, sharp profile and impossibly magnetic eyes. He's always being so good to you...

You feel yourself starting to shake again –your emotions swirling inside your mind–; but it all stops with Hunter's movement as he pulls the covers back with one hand in a clear invitation to share his bed for the night. You make a small needy uncontrolable sound with your throat; and scramble to crawl in his bunk besides him without much thought.

Hunter's body is incredibly firm and warm. You move for a few seconds while trying to find the best position against him; quickly setting for your cheek pressing into his chest and your nose hiding in his neck, one arm wrapped around him and both legs respectfully on top of the thin matress inches away from his. Hunter make's a deep humming sound of his own and his right hand slowly presses against the middle of your back; just a reassuring presence that without words messages "i'm here". You know. He always is.

You take in his comforting familiar scent and sigh. You're too tired to give much thought to the fact that you're actually hugging Hunter; and dark memories replaced in his safe embrace, you take no time in drifting back again into unconsciousness.

Hunter stays awake for a while; making sure your nightmares don't return before going back to sleep as well, getting used to the strange feeling of being this close to you. It's new; and nicer than he'd like to admit to himself.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

The second time you hug him is a relief-driven action that holds no pre-planed thought at all. You had been waiting for news of the Batch for weeks now, having to stay back on Pabu after breaking your arm in the last mission; forced to watch them go on their own. It hadn't gone right for them either –the Empire smelling their trace and making their trip twice as long and with no coms available, even with Tech's security measures–. You had nearly picked your nails off; and a somehow un-nervous Phee standing next to you and chuckling to herself for whatever mysterious reason you couldn't care to find out had definitely not helped.

You're running towards them the moment the Marauder touches the ground. Wrecker's the first to walk the ramp; and though you care for him dearly, it's not him you jump towards.

Hunter has no other option than to hold you tightly against his chest in surprise when you crash into him. The force of your desperate hug makes him stumble –definetly not expecting that kind of welcome from you–; but he quickly gains his footing and carefully and almost hesitantly hugs you back.

"You should be more carefull with that arm" he points out, voice deep and roughned up by the tiredness and dehydratation close to your ear. "A cast doesn't give you inmunity".

You chuckle, tightening your one-arm hug against him once before taking a deep relieved breath in and stepping back. You tilt your head to look up into Hunter's dark chocolate eyes. He looks exhausted, but still holds a firm and gentle aura. He's always the composed soldier; and you admire him for that.

"No, and that's why I've mastered the one-side tackle" you joke, eying quickly the rest of the Batch and softening your glance. "I'm glad you're back and safe, Hunter".

His eyes fill with warmth and affection at your sweet, sincere tone. A fleeting thought passes through your head, noticing the difference between amicable fondness and this newfound emotion shining in his gaze. His hand briefly squeezes your un-injured shoulder once, close enough to your old scar that it somehow makes it burn. You wouldn't have been able to take your eyes of him even if you tried to.

Hunter pulls his hand back and offers a tiny tired smile.

"I'm glad to be back too".

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

The physical contact with Hunter continues to grow in the following month; until it becomes a natural expected thing, a helping hand or a brush of arms here and there.

Hunter's the one to actually give you the third hug. It's one night when you all say your goodbyes to each other and prepare to get to your respective apartments for the night that happens. The people in Pabu had been kind enough to offer a twin set for you lot; having divided yourself in boys and girls. Hunter bends down to give Omega a hug; turning right after to you and enveloping your figure in his arms as well.

You freeze momentarily –though not in disgust–; your heartbeat speeding up slightly at the surprising –and unusal– gesture. Yeah, you've hugged Hunter yourself twice now; but he has never been one to initiate contact himself, maybe too polite for that.

It's him who realises what he's done, stepping back with a confused expression on his face and pushing his long hair back in a shy selfconscious tick.

"Oh, um... I don't know why I did that. My bad" he shrugs it off, offering a sheepish smile, and you chuckle at his reaction.

Not so composed this time.

"That's alright, Hunter. I don't mind. You're a good hugger" you point out.

His expresion turns into amusement, and he shows his signature side smirk. He crosses his arms in front of his chest. He's one of a motherfucker atractive man. Future girlfriend will be ecstatic to have him.

"Am I, now?"

You both laugh softly, and he decides it's time to leave you so you can have some time to rest. They're going on a mission tomorrow, and he needs you bright and early.

"Good night, mesh'la" he tells you, voice soft feeling like a caress, and you study him in curiosity at the new Mando'a.

You've heard them say some words here and there –mostly insults or surprised expressions–; but never that one.

Before you're able to ask the meaning of it, Hunter offers a last smile and turns around, quietly walking away to their own apartment straight across from yours. Your eyes never leave his retrearing figure; while Omega's switches curiously between you both.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

You lose count after the fourth one. Hugs start to form part of your usual rutine; sometimes a quick way of saying "hello" or "goodbye" and sometimes a simple show of affection, until it reaches the point where they're not unexpected anymore –though equally pleasant–. You also start to hug the rest of the Batch as well; not Echo, of course –he isn't comfortable with you like that just yet, though he admits small pats and squeezes on the shoulder as a substitute–, but Omega, Tech and Wrecker. Each hug with them feels different than rest; Hunter's keeps being the best.

It's not just physical contact that grows over the two of you; but mental as well. You often find yourself sitting with him in the cockpit –when you're on a mission– or strolling through Pabu –sometimes with Omega on your tail, sometimes not– when you're on a break. Your relationship with him deepens. He even opens up enough to talk about Crosshair; something you know it hurts him and has never been mentioned around you before. Other times he shares his worries about Omega and her on-the-run childhood; his fears for what the future beholds. You take special care of those quiet, heartfelt moments, listening carefully and giving your thoughtfull opinion that is neither naive nor too depressing; just the right amount of truth. You must be doing something right; because Hunter keeps coming back for more.

Somewhere along the way, two months in since that day of your nightmare, he casually opens his arms wide for you –not as a hello or a goodbye, not because it has been too long since you last saw each other, just a spontaneous gesture because he wants to– and you can't help but smile and cuddle straight into his arms. He sighs, body curving slightly to drap himself closer around you; and you feel the luckiest person in the world.

You take that as a license to hug him whenever you want. Sometimes he's in the middle of a conversation with his brothers when you walk towards them and slide your arms around him, pressing softly against his side; Hunter quickly growing into it and wrapping an arm around you as well without stopping the talk. Other times it's him who does it; like when you're watching Omega play with other teens on the beach, and Hunter come's around and hugs you to him while resting his chin on your shoulder, observing her.

People in Pabu start gossipping about you; rumours spreading that you might have started dating. You almost laugh when you hear it for the first time. Yeah, Hunter and you hug a lot, now, and it's undeniable that you've grown much closer; but don't friends hug too?

You start being more aware of your own actions from there on; and conclude that maybe not like that. And maybe hugs between friends aren't supposed to make you feel this way either; the way Hunter's does.

It's like that how you realise you're falling in love with him. You've always respected and admired him so much; but your feelings for him run deeper than that.

The hugs become even more frecuent as time passes by. You start to play with his hair too; Hunter even proping his head on your lap when you're resting on your bunk to demand some. You do it each time with a small chuckle and a rush of warmth and love that makes your eyes shine. You wonder if he's able to read the differences on your reactions, now.

You gather your courage, and when one of those times he relaxes on your lap again, enjoying the soft caresses of your fingers on his hair and scalp, you bend forward to kiss his forehead. Before you do, his breath hitches; his senses detecting some kind of movement above him. When your lips finally press softly against his skin, Hunter relaxes and lets out a small content hum. His right hand travels up to close around your leg, squeezing gently; and you restart your little massage.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

You're honestly surprised with how quiet the rest of the batch has been around you; not a word of your unusual closeness with Hunter even after three months of development. Yeah, they steal glances of the two from time to time, as if expecting for something to happen; but there's no out of place comment or impatient complaint.

You're... hesitant about Hunter. About his feelings for you; sometimes so convinced they're as romantic as yours are, and other times swaying towards a strong friendship. Hunter doesn't kiss on the cheek anybody else, or cuddle with any other woman, for that matter; he's a bit reserved. But then again, he has never had a close female friend before, either; so maybe he's just curiously exploring what it means, enjoying the change. A bit of your own insecurities play their part as well. Hunter is such a striking man... And though you don't believe yourself to be unnatractive by any chance, you're not sure you're able to compete on his league. But maybe you don't have to, right? Hunter's not one of your past fleeting flings, not someone who values how you look and how many times you have sex in a week with as your main value. He's a decent person; someone who truly cares for your well-being. You snort at your following thought. Maybe that problem of your last relationship hadn't been you; you're sure you'd never lack the desire to jump in bed with Hunter. And you know he wouldn't pressure you if that weren't the case. That's the best part.

One week later, it's him who finally points out the elephant in the room. You're just entering their small apartment after watching a beautiful sunset in Pabu; deciding to make him some company while the rest of the Batch stays with Omega in the beach. He had stayed back under the need for some quiet and silence. After a whole afternoon to himself, you believe he must have had that covered.

Hunter's attention inmediatly snaps to you as soon as you walk through the open door; turning his body towards you and crossing his arms with an arching brow. He knows what's coming. It's tradition, now. You feel the inmediate need as soon as you're in front of him.

"You know... I'm one hug away from kissing you, cyare" he warns, amused little smile dancing on his lips while he gently stops your hips with his hands. "You're driving me crazy with all that physical contact, mesh'la".

You laugh. Your eyes shine up at him, insides warm and fuzzy with the raw affection he's directing towards you. His thumbs trace slow lazy circles over your hips. You love him. You have enjoyed the unhurried natural progression of your developing relationship; but you can't wait to take the next step, to finally being able to call him yours. You want to be that lucky girl you thought of once.

Oh well. If one more hug is all it takes...

You slowly stand on your tip-toes; and without taking your eyes off of him, your hands slowly skim up his arms til you're enveloping his back and shoulders in a half-hug. Your face is inches from Hunter's now. Your smile is impossibly wide and proud while you grin at him.

Hunter chuckles in amusement, quickly catching onto your logic, the silent question in your gesture; and one of his hands abandon your hips for a gentle hold on the side of your jaw.

"Love you" he mumbles, still smiling while he gives you his first ever kiss, making you giggle while you cling to his shoulders and kiss him back as well.

He deepens the kiss, demanding more of you while tigthening his grasp on your hip and pulling you closer. You make a satisfied happy noise with your throat, fingers slipping into his hair and body melting against him.

"Love you too".

THE END.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

I JUST THOUGHT OF HOW GOOD A HUG FROM STRONG HANDSOME HUNTER WOULD FEEL AND THIS IS THE RESULT.

HOPE YOU'VE LIKED IT (LET ME KNOW)!

AS ALWAYS, REBLOGS ARE DEEPLY APRECIATED.

REMEMBER I'M TAKING REQUESTS/PROMPTS!

Xx,

Sky.

PS. HELPPPP CAN SOMEONE PLS EXPLAIN TO ME HOW CAN I LINK MY ONE-SHOTS IN TUMBLR WITH JUST THE TITLE IN THE CUTE WAY EVERYONE DOES AND NOT LIKE I'M CURRENTLY DOING? TY!

(Back to general masterlist here)

[mondothebombo]

Mondo 👉👈 could you explain all the ways you connect the song Home to Wytyaa?…. Like Important Lyrics. I have been listening to it a lot and I need to know for reasons. :)

oli you have no idea how long i’ve been waiting for someone to ask this. all the lyrics are technically important, and i may or may not have storyboarded scenes to this song in my head lmaooo. i’ve been wanting to talk abt this for SO FUCKING LONG so here we go!!!

Often I am upset that I cannot fall in love but I guess

This avoids the stress of falling out of it

jay doubting whether nya actually wants to be with him or if she’s just pitying him, when he wakes up from passing out in chap 6

Are you tired of me yet?

I'm a little sick right now but I swear

When I'm ready I will fly us out of here

this is jay noticing the others are getting worried and him sitting with all his bad thoughts, also as him talking to nya, kinda like “once i get my shit together and get over this, i’ll make things better”

I'll cut my hair

To make you stare

jay and nya both subtly subconsciously changing their appearances to separate themselves from what happened

I'll hide my chest

And I'll figure out a way to get us out of here

jay hiding his scars and trying to ignore everything for nya’s sake, intending to keep his promise of fixing his mistakes

Turn off your porcelain face

jays facade dropping and the others getting progressively more worried

I can't really think right now in this place

cole confronting jay abt his scars and jay getting overstimulated he lashes out

There's too many colors enough to drive all of us insane

jay freaking out when he gets high from the pain meds and yelling at kai for touching him the day after alec breaks his wrist

Are you dead?

jay seeing nya’s dead body when he looks at her

Sometimes I think I'm dead

jay/nya feeling the phantom pains

'Cause I can feel ghosts and ghouls wrapping my head

jay hearing nadakhan’s and the pirates voices in his head

But I don't wanna fall asleep just yet

jay having that dream

My eyes went dark

nya finding out abt the SA

I don't know where

My pupils are

jay looking in the mirror and hating his eye/scars

But I'll figure out a way to get us out of here

again, jay trying to be ok for nya

Get a load of this monster

He doesn't know how to communicate

this is most definitely jay thinking his friends hate him while he’s alone on the ship

His mind is in a different place

jay spacing out during scrap n tap, thinking of how the others see him

Will everybody please give him a little bit of space

transition back to him training with lloyd the day after he resets time and freaking out, accidentally hurting lloyd in the process

Get a load of this train-wreck

His hair's a mess and he doesn't know who he is yet

this is him stuck in the memories and believing everything nadakhan and the pirates said abt him, hallucinating and seeing nadakhan at random times

But little do we know, the stars

Welcome him with open arms

slowly fades to the present, where the others keep trying to prove they love him

Time is

nya and jay having the conversation where she talks abt the extent of her trauma

Slowly

jay and nya laughing together while lightly training in the middle of the night

Tracing his face

their talk w wu when he says he’s proud of them

But strangely he feels at home in this place

and finally, the last scene of chapter 7, where jay and nya come and sit with the others after their talk w wu, and jay finally cries with relief as he cuddles w the others

i hope i explained this well enough, please feel free to ask me if anything needs clarification :D

[tea-twords]

your hcs for them. hand them over

Ugh cant BELIEVE you ask for the one thing I say not to ask🙄🙄🙄 Guess I’m forced to share them🙄🙄🙄 Against my will🙄🙄🙄

Mualani

She’s like 51% Ler 49% Lee

It’s almost 50/50 but she’s verrrry tiny bit more ler

She’s probably like…an 8.5/10 on the ticklish scale

Worst spots are her tummy (obviously), her underarms, hips, and ngl I feel like her shoulders

Whenever she’s tkld, she almost never holds back her laugh

So it always comes out a loud bright cheery laugh (and it’s so pretty)

She FLAILS

As a ler she’s only sometimes mean, it depends on her lee

She’s never a mean ler with Kachina, she’s sometimes a mean ler with Kinich

Definitely loves using “the claw”

HUGE fan of giving cheer up tks

Usually to Kachina cause she gets down on herself a lot

Now I would say Mualani also enjoys getting cheer up tks, but hear me out

Instead of receiving them, I feel like if she’s down and Kinich or Kachina are in her presence, she will drag them down and wreck their shit till she felt better

She often receives wake up tks from Kinich whenever they’re traveling together

I say this bc that scene in the archon quest where Mualani was like if only we had someone who gets up early to wake us up tomorrow and Kinich was like fine

She LOOOVES doing surprise tases to her friends (usually Kinich)

She’s also quite often the victim of revenge tks

Deserved

Kachina

80% Lee 20% Ler

About an 8/10 on how ticklish she is

I honestly feel like she’s just averagely the same level of ticklish everywhere

Esp her sides a little more tho

Always on the receiving end of cheer up tks from Mualani or Kinich

She will never take initiative to be a ler like ever

The only time she ever lers is when it’s her and Mualani ganging up on Kinich or her and Kinich ganging up on Mualani

It will pretty much never be one on one

Maybe there’s a scenario where it’s possible but right now in my head she would not do it alone

Very very gentle ler

Small hands = small quick tks

Kachina doesn’t know she could literally murder Kinich with the gentle tks if she wanted to

She doesn’t want to tho because she’s way too nice of a ler

As a lee she definitely squirms a lot

Usually it’s Mualani who gets her and it usually doesn’t last very long

Kinich and Mualani never gang up on her in a 2 on 1 bc that’s unfair

They are caring older bro and sis

Her laugh is pretty much just giggles

She doesn’t cackle or snort and is never usually loud

She’s adorable tho and I love her

Kinich

45% Lee and 55% Ler

He’s about a 6.5-7 on the scale (I can’t decide which bc it really depends on if you surprise him or not)

Despite his being more of a ler, he’s never usually the first one to initiate the tks

He almost always tickles as an act of revenge (cough mualani)

Kinich for a while thought he wasn’t all that ticklish because last time someone asked the dreaded question and tickled his sides, he didn’t feel a need to react

He’s just really good at not being ticklish when he knows it’s coming (me fr)

However

Mualani asked this question and got the same lack of response to sides

But unlike previous curious people, Mualani doesn’t give up

It didn’t take long for her to find pretty much all of Kinich’s spots after that wrecking

His spots are usually normal but sometimes a little oddly placed

He’s ticklish on his underarms, back, ribs (but only the bottom two), knees, his neck but only in front, and collarbone

He’s really not that ticklish on his sides and therefore assumed he wasn’t at all because before Mualani that was the only place people ever

As a ler depending on who you are and what you did to warrant his wrath he can either be super nice or straight merciless

Which translates to super nice with kachina and merciless with Mualani

Because 90% of the time she does something

Whether it be a surprise taser on those two ribs that are too sensitive for his own good (he screams) or something as simple as a prank

He will give her the wrecking she deserves

And sure he’s merciless with her but not exactly mean

He will remind her that she brought it upon herself

As a lee tho…

I can’t tell if I like Lee or Ler Kinich more

Because Ler Kinich is perfection but Lee Kinich is adorable

He’s honestly so good at holding in his laugh but surprise attacks are his weakness (Mualani’s specialty)

Even if it’s not a surprise attack, anything on his back will get him to crack in seconds

Even when he’s laughing though he’s really good at controlling it

Good at controlling his movements too

He won’t flail like mualani and instead just kinda curl up

Protect whatever he can

Even with all his composure though it’s still possible to get him cackling

That only ever happens when it’s both Mualani and Kachina ganging up on him

The conflict between Mualani’s firmness and Kachina’s gentle scritches just makes him lose it

Sometimes Ajaw (the bastard) tells Kachina to be rougher with Kinich bc he thinks that it’s the rough tks that drive Kinich crazy

But it’s actually the soft tks that he can’t stand

I’m sorry but I just have a feeling he’s weak to gentles

Of course after times like this he will literally wreck both of them at the same time. Bc he’s still a ler at heart and he can do that

Last one and I’m pretty sure we all know this but

Ajaw will definitely sell Kinich’s worst spots to his ler with no hesitation and no remorse

He wants to see him suffer

[seriouslysam8]

Alew Sneak Peek

Chapter Eight: Isle of Skye

Something deep within Sirius shifted as he watched Marlene and Maia recover from such a traumatic birth, knowing his wretched biological family had nearly killed them both. A boiling anger simmered on the surface watching as his godson withdrew into himself, the months of progress thrown out the window in single night. For what? Sirius hadn’t the faintest idea. Was it simply revenge or was it something more sinister? It was a question that haunted Sirius’ dreams and consumed his mind during the day.

When Marlene and Maia were cleared to leave the hospital, they didn’t have a home to return to. The flat wasn’t safe. If Sirius was being completely honest with himself, none of the McKinnon or the few Black properties in his possession were safe options. They had been too easy to find before. It was a mistake they couldn’t afford to make again. Sirius had no idea where to even go from here.

When Ted offered them his grandfather’s row house in the Isle of Skye, they accepted until they could find a more permanent solution to their housing crisis. The cheery blue house was located on the water. Harry liked watching the boats from the front window on the comfy bench seat in front of it, spending hours during the afternoon with his stuffed black dog pressed against his chest. Sometimes, Sirius curled up as Padfoot next to him, allowing Harry to use him as a pillow while he napped. Sirius appreciated Ted lending him the house, but it felt like nothing more than a holiday away from the chaos that awaited them back home. It was a place to recharge and form a plan. Therefore, Sirius couldn’t bloody well relax, especially not when Marlene sobbed into a despondent mess and Harry no longer laughed.

Harry refused to sleep in a room alone, not that Sirius was upset the first night Harry screamed and clung to him as though his life depended on it. Sirius and Marlene only moved his cot into their room. They situated it right next to Maia’s. Sometimes, if Sirius woke first, he noticed Harry had put his hand through the bars at some point during the night to hold Maia’s. Those mornings, Sirius couldn’t move as he stared at the pair of them as an awful lump formed in his throat every damn time. His limbs only began to work when one of them would wake up.

Normally, they woke up together. Sirius found himself struggling to carry both kids, mostly because of Maia’s floppy little neck. Newborn babies made him slightly anxious because of how delicate and fragile they were. He had grown used to caring for a toddler and not worrying about such things as providing neck support.

Life continued in a monotonous yet paranoid fashion. Sirius found himself checking the wards and enchantments nightly, prodding for even the smallest cracks or splinters. During the day, he walked from window to window to ensure there was no one suspicious outside of the house. Marlene refused to leave the safety of the house, a panic attack bubbling anytime Sirius suggested it. Sirius knew anytime he was gone to pick up essentials, she was a nervous wreck checking and rechecking the wards obsessively. One day, he found her and the kids barricaded in the bedroom, sitting in the corner on the floor. Sirius only felt helpless. Especially when it seemed like Marlene couldn’t find it within herself to talk about anything other than safety precautions most days.

“I’m fine,” Marlene insisted one day, rocking Maia as she fed her a bottle. 

Sirius nodded, his gaze wandering to where Harry laid curled on the bench seat watching the boats. “I’m just trying to help.”

“I don’t need help,” Marlene argued, tears springing to her eyes. “Merlin, I don’t even know why I’m bloody well crying,” she gasped, her free hand wiping the tears off her cheeks.

“When’s your appointment with Healer Weasley?” Sirius asked, his hands resting on his hips.

Marlene sniffed, her head shaking. “I didn’t make one.”

“Marly!” Sirius hissed, his eyes growing wide. “Are you bloody serious right now?”

“We can’t leave the house!” Marlene argued. “The kids can’t leave the house!”

Sirius sucked in a breath. “I’ll have Andy come watch the kids and I’ll go with you.”

“No!” Marlene exclaimed. “One of us has to be here with them!”

Sirius swallowed down his mounting frustration because he couldn’t dismiss Marlene’s concerns when he had the same damn ones. “Fine. Andy will go with you to your appointment and I’ll stay with the kids.”

“Sirius–”

“You’re not fine, Marlene!” Sirius snapped harsher than he intended to, but he was so fucking exhausted that he didn’t know how he functioned most days. “You haven’t been fine since you gave birth! I get nothing went the way we wanted it to. I know that it was hard and awful and downright terrifying. But you can’t go on like this. It’s like you’re afraid of your own ruddy shadow. It’s like pulling bloody teeth to get you out of bed in the morning. You need help because clearly something isn’t right and I haven’t the faintest idea of how to help you.”

Marlene’s chest heaved as she rose from the chair, cuddling Maia close to her chest. “You expect me to just be happy after what happened? After I nearly caused the death of our children?”

Sirius nodded, his face pulling. “Look, if you don’t want to do it for yourself than I can’t force you. But I want you to look at these kids and tell me you won’t do it for them. Because they need you. They depend on you. I know you love them more than anyone else in this world. I know you want to give them the world. But you can’t do that in the current state you’re in,” he insisted, taking a step forward and wrapping his hands around her arms. “You told me James and Lily’s deaths weren’t my fault. You told me I needed to let go of my guilt. I’m going to tell you the same thing. What happened that night wasn’t your fault. You need to let go of the guilt. You need to make an appointment with Healer Weasley. I’m willing to do whatever makes you comfortable going, but you need to go.”

Marlene let out a sob, tears pouring down her face. With a trembling lip, Marlene nodded. Sirius felt a weight lift from his shoulders.