#when startled or otherwise ruffled

[therealdogsinmymind]

✩ My Rival (All Mine) ✩

18+ MDNI

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AO3 Link | Word Count: 2,394 | Chapters 1/1

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Synopsis: Sung Jinwoo pisses you off but maybe you've you've finally found a way to ruffle his feathers a little bit.

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Pairing: Sung Jinwoo/Reader, Sung Jinwoo/You

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Tags: Reader POV, Gender Neutral Reader, Virgin Sung Jinwoo, Jealous Jinwoo, Rivals to Lovers, Bickering, Kissing, Neck Kissing, Tenderness, Light Angst, Miscommunication, Conflict Resolution, Happy Ending

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Picture from @oo0mika0oo ‘s icon edits

“You piss me off,” you say under your breath, fully intending for him to hear it. He always fucking does. 

You don’t like Jinwoo, you never have. Not before you awakened as an S-Rank hunter and you saw him on TV and certainly not now that you know him personally. He’s got shitty vibes and an even worse personality. He’s closed off, and you can smell his fucking god complex from a mile away. 

“Good to know,” Jinwoo says coolly, taking a sip of his water. You don’t know why he needs it, he hasn’t even broken a sweat, despite the fact that he’s been running circles around everyone in the training arena for hours. Just to show off, you suppose. He’s kicked almost everyone’s ass so far, sans for yours. You really don’t feel like going up against him though, you’d like your ass to remain un-kicked, thank you. There’s also some cards you’d rather keep close to your chest; but god you wish you could rub his face in the dirt just once. 

As Jinwoo lingers against the wall next to you, head turned just barely so you’re in his line of sight, you grow increasingly agitated. Why the fuck did he come over here? Why is he looking at you? What’s his deal? He’s always doing this, he’ll follow you around just to piss you off. You swear he started going to the only coffee shop you like just to torment you with his extremely pretty, extremely punchable face. As your irritation reaches max cap you decide it’d be better to just take a deep breath and walk away, you don’t need to get into a pissing contest with this guy, you’re better than that. You’ll be taking your leave now.

You spring up, intent on heading for the door when Jinwoo calls after you, ”You don’t want a round?” Yeah, no. 

You turn around briefly, still walking backwards towards the door. ”With you? No. I can think of better things to do with my time.” You take a little pleasure in the way Jinwoo looks slightly shocked at your rebuff. You turn around and pick up the pace, hoping to get the hell out of dodge. 

Suddenly Jinwoo’s in front of you, blocking the door, having somehow appeared out of the shadows. ”Fuck!” You startle, you didn’t know he could do that, is there anything he can’t do? 

“The better things, what are they?” Jinwoo asks, staring at you intently as if your face will reveal the answer.

”What?”

”What are the better things?” He repeats.

”I don’t know, dude? Get laid? Not that you would know anything about that.” It doesn’t even occur to you until his face twists, all sorts of emotions that you’ve never seen on him. They mar his usually such impassive features; he’s jealous. You said it as a joke, really more than anything wanting to call him a virgin, but this is too good.  You have to hold in a laugh, it’s almost unthinkable, you have an antagonistic relationship with him at best. It intrigues you though, you wonder if you could push his buttons like this, he’s usually so unconcerned with others.

When Jinwoo doesn’t reply right away you take that as your cue, needling him, “Anyway- I do actually want to get fucked sometime today, so if you’ll excuse me…” You have no such plans but you wave your hand at him dismissively anyway, just to be a bitch. 

His face stays twisted but he doesn’t otherwise react so you push harder. Leaning in close to him and speaking low so as to not be overheard, “Unless you want to see to that.” It’s just to throw him off his game, you just want to see him gape like a fish, or maybe sputter, curse you out, anything. You’ve thought about what Jinwoo might be like in bed before of course, who hasn’t, a simple curiosity if you will. That’s neither here nor there, you’re truly just aiming to rile him up at this point; surely any second now he’ll reel back and run away.

 Instead Jinwoo grabs your wrist and pulls you out of the training arena. All that comes out of your mouth is a grunt, too worried about making a scene. Although maybe you should, where the hell is he taking you and why? He says nothing, simply dragging you down the hallway until he seems to sense an empty room where he promptly tosses you in; and for all your agility and grace you still land right on your ass. Great.

He shuts the door behind him just as you’re springing up, ready for a fight. That’s the only reason you can think he dragged you out here, to kick your ass away from prying eyes, the room is kind of small though, maybe he’s just that overconfident. You decide you won’t let him throw the first punch but it’s too late, Jinwoo’s fast, faster than you. You’ve barely had any real combat training as a new hunter and he’s the real deal. He’s in your space before you can even blink and you’re sure he’s about to beat you to a pulp. However no pain comes, there’s only a horrible sense of too-quick motion and then you’re seated firmly, feeling a bit dizzy. It takes you all but a moment to realize you’re sitting on Jinwoo’s lap, he seems to have scooped you up and sat down on a couch; you must be in someone’s office. 

“I’ll be seeing to that now,” Jinwoo says in a low voice, giving a healthy pause before he moves at all, perhaps to let your brain catch up with his words. 

It sure tries its best, running at a million miles a minute. You think about the fact that you hate Jinwoo, he’s fucking annoying, he’s stupid as shit. Your mind screams at you that he’s too powerful, it's dangerous, you shouldn’t get close. He’s too confident even if he can back it up, it’s kind of hot. You ignore that last part, you don’t who said that. However you also have eyes, he’s really fucking good looking and maybe if Jinwoo wants to fuck you so bad you can make him work for it a little.

You slip out of his arms and off of his lap. You don’t even dream of laughing at the poorly concealed heartbroken look on his face; it’s actually kind of sad to see. You click your tongue before sliding back onto his lap but this time straddling him.

“Come now, don’t make that face, I'm just getting comfortable,” you coo at him, stroking your thumb across Jinwoo’s cheek, it’s oddly tender for what the two of you have. He just looked so sad. He leans into it and it makes you want to be nice to him again, disgustingly enough. You lean in and give Jinwoo a soft kiss on the tip of his nose, deciding to kiss him more when he sigh softly, happily. You’ve never heard him make that noise, it’s entirely new to you, you wonder what kinds of other new sounds you can drag from him. More kisses, one on each of his cheeks, and again on the corners of his lips, missing the true mark purposefully. Jinwoo audibly swallows and his arms wrap loosely and hesitantly around your back. It appears all of his earlier confidence has sapped right out of him. You wonder if you were right on the money when you said he doesn’t know anything about getting laid.

You press a kiss to his jaw and linger there. “Jinwoo,” you whisper softly against his skin and he shudders. That’s cute, but you must stay focused, you have to ask, “Have you done this before?”

Jinwoo stiffens, “Define…’this’...”

“Fuck someone, baby.” He whines a little at the pet name and you make mental note of that. “Have you ever fucked someone before? Been with anyone? Made out? Kissed? What are we working with here?” 

He clears his throat and turns his head away from you as his cheeks go red. You groan and drop your forehead onto his shoulder. You were just going to mess with him a little, kiss him a bit and leave him wanting more; but there’s no shot in hell you’re going to fuck up his first time. He deserves someone better than you for that, someone he actually likes. You have to ignore the way that thought stabs you in the heart so badly you can barely breathe. 

“I’m sorry, baby,” you say, your forehead still resting against his shoulder, “We can’t do this.” 

“Oh,” Jinwoo says, voice flat, devoid of any emotion, truly reminiscent of the closed-off man that you so often see. His hands fall away from your back and you wince at the way he shuts down. 

“Hey,” you pour as much emotion into your voice as possible, “I promise it’s not you.” You tuck your head into Jinwoo’s neck and squeeze him tightly. You wonder if he can still breathe like this, you feel like you can’t despite nothing restricting you. “When you find someone you like you’ll be glad we didn’t do this.” He says nothing so you pull back to take a hesitant look at his face. Jinwoo looks angrier than you’ve ever personally seen him. 

“Already did.”

He grabs you by the face with both hands and before you can figure out if you heard him right, Jinwoo crushes your lips together too hard and too fast. However once your lips are touching he hesitates for a second, unsure of what to do next. Well, apparently you heard him right, and his hasty kiss answers all of your follow up questions about what he said, go figure. 

You can’t just leave him hanging, so you kiss him back like your life depends on it. All in all it’s a crappy kiss. Your teeth clack together painfully, he can’t seem to find a rhythm with you, and you bump noses incessantly too. Despite all this you can’t fucking stop kissing him; you don’t think you could even if the world was ending. Jinwoo pulls back after a bit, gasping, apparently no one ever taught him how to breathe.

You grab Jinwoo by his hair, “Breathe through your nose, dipshit.” Using your hold on his hair you pull him back into another kiss, delighting in his shocked moan. This kiss is slightly better, he seems to be learning quickly. Jinwoo wraps his arms around you again and grasps at the back of your shirt, you worry if he pulls any harder he might tear it. That could be hot though, an idea for later. 

This time you pull back first and Jinwoo emits an uncharacteristically pathetic whine in response. “Shh.”

 You press kisses up his jaw, before sucking a mark directly below his ear. You’ve never known anyone to leave a scratch on Jinwoo, maybe you’ll be the first. The thought fuels something new and feral in you. You begin covering his throat in as many marks as you possibly can, something delightful burning inside of you when you see each new bruise forming. You want him covered, you want everyone to know that this stupid man, this dangerous, closed off man is yours. Nobody else is allowed to see Jinwoo a mess like this, this is for your eyes only. That’s all you’ve ever really wanted, isn’t it?

“Jinwoo…” you whisper, your breath fanning across the spit-slick marks you’ve just made on his throat. 

Jinwoo shudders beneath you, “Yeah?”

“We are not fucking in a stranger’s office.” Just on so many levels that is not happening.

He sags into the couch like a puppet that just had all of its strings cut. “I truly hate you sometimes…” he says with absolutely no malice, in fact it sounds kind of whiny and you have to hold in a giggle. 

“Until about ten minutes ago, I was under the impression that you hated me all the time.”

Jinwoo scoffs and runs his hand up your side gently, “I don’t hate you ever, you’re just really annoying.”

You rub a thumb over one of his blossoming bruises, admiring your hard work. “Awww thanks, you’re also a real fuckin’ peach.”

“I do try.”

You roll your eyes, patting him on the head now that you know he won’t kill you for doing that, “Come on, you can fuck me in my bed later. I’m dying to know if I can fit your dick in my throat.” The last bit is tacked on with a pointed wiggle of your hips, just so you can feel Jinwoo’s cock straining against his pants. God, he’s such a virgin, it’s painfully cute. You absolutely would give him a quick hand job here just to help him out but it’s so much funnier not to. 

Jinwoo’s hips twitch and he groans deeply, the sound reverberating in his chest, “Fuck you-” 

“Happy to help!” Being a hindrance is your favorite activity, especially when it’s Jinwoo you’re hindering. You can’t believe you’ve finally found his weak spot. 

“Yeah, I’m sure you are…”

“Aww, I’m sorry baby,” you say, voice thick with condescension, “I promise I’ll make it up to you later, just be patient.” You press a quick kiss to his lips before you slip off his lap. He sighs, folding over and dropping his head into his hands.

“You’re a nightmare…”

“Yeah but I think you might like that about me… Just a hunch.” You’re not actually sure if that’s true or not. You’re not sure of anything anymore. Really where the two of you stand now is a total mystery, but the soft laugh Jinwoo warms your chest, and that’s something isn’t it?

With a soft tone Jinwoo says, “Get out of here, menace.”

“Yeah, yeah… Hey- see you later?” Your words come out as a question, quiet and hopeful.

He sits up and looks at you, the corners of his lips quirked up. “See you later,” he says, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

Of course, you almost forgot, ever since you came here it’s been that way hasn’t it? Where you go he follows and vice versa, he’s your rival after all, what would you do without him?

[novamariestark]

Stress Relief...

Summary: Over the last 9 months, your life has changed a lot, it was hard not to feel stressed, but after meeting quite possibly the sexiest guy you'd ever met at Molly's, stress was the last thing on your mind

Warnings: age gap, smut, unprotected sex (wrap b4 you tap), drunk-ish sex

Word count: 3354

Fandom: Chicago P.D

Pairing: Hank Voight x halstead!reader

[A/N] I've been wanting to write for Hank a long time, but every time i watched Chicago P.D to get ideas and inspiration, I got distracted 🤣, It's very hard not to

You were a creature of habit. Always have been. So it didn’t take long for everyone to learn them. One particular habit was your nightly trip to Molly’s. The firefighter bar. You met Herrmann in the ER one day and you became friends. He was quite possibly the sweetest person you’d ever met. He was also the only one who knew your full past.

You weren’t always here in Chicago nor were you aware of your brothers, Will and Jay. Up until 9 months ago you didn’t know that they existed. You were an orphan, or at least that’s what you were always told and you had no reason to think otherwise. But sure enough, after a trip to Chicago and one freak accident that took you to the ER, you found them. Well one. Your older brother Will. How he found out, you still didn’t know but he did. Shortly after, you met Jay, who apparently is your twin brother.

You spent as much time with them as possible before leaving for your college graduation, promising to visit. Little did you know that they were coming back with you. You didn’t find out until they “dropped you off” at the airport the next day but with bags.

“You think we’d miss our little sister’s graduation?” Will asked smiling warmly.

"Seriously?" you asked, your face lighting up like a child's on Christmas morning.

Will chuckled, ruffling your hair, "Of course. We wouldn't miss it for the world."

As soon as your flight number was called, you all boarded the plane, excitement bubbling under the surface. You couldn't believe it. Just a week ago, you thought you'd be walking across the stage to receive your degree with no one in the crowd cheering for you. But now, you were going to have two people there, and not just anyone—your brothers.

As you settled into your seat, you glanced over at Will and Jay, who were chatting animatedly about the plans for the weekend. The reality of the situation finally hit you, and felt a smile creeping up your face. You'd spent so much of your life moving from place to place, rarely feeling like you truly belonged anywhere. But now, it felt like you finally did belong.

When the plane landed, you turned to your brothers with a smile. "I'll head home and change, and then I'll meet you both at the hotel with my husband," you said, still riding the high of excitement from the journey.

They nodded, and after a quick hug and a promise to catch up soon, you headed off towards your apartment. You didn’t live so far away, so you decided to walk. As you walked up the driveway, you noticed your husband's car was there. A small, happy smile crossed your face.

You unlocked the front door and stepped inside, calling out a cheerful greeting. "I'm home!"

But there was no response. The house was eerily quiet, and an uneasy feeling began to settle in your stomach. You walked through the hallway, your footsteps echoing in the silence. As you approached the bedroom door, you noticed it was slightly ajar. Pushing it open, your eyes widened in shock.

There, on the bed, was your husband—tangled up with another woman. It was almost too surreal to process at first; your mind struggled to comprehend what you were seeing. They both looked up, startled by your sudden entrance. Your husband quickly pulled away from the woman, but he didn't seem particularly shocked or apologetic. Instead, he simply stared at you. In fact, a look of mild annoyance was plastered on his face.

For a moment, you just stood there, frozen, as a tidal wave of emotions crashed over you—betrayal, anger, sadness. You felt like you had been punched in the gut. You'd been so excited to share your news with him, and now this?

You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to speak. "I'll be back for my things," you said, your voice surprisingly steady despite earthquake of emotions rattling inside you. You didn't wait for a response. You turned on your heel and walked out, grabbing your car keys on the way out.

As you got into your car, your hands were trembling. You took a deep breath, trying to calm yourself. Tears welled up in your eyes, but you wiped them away and started the engine. You drove to the hotel in a daze, trying to shake the image of your husband and the other woman from your mind. How you didn’t have an accident was beyond you.

Needless to say, they were furious when you showed up at their hotel room in tears. You had tried so hard to hold it together, but as soon as the elevator doors closed behind you, the dam broke. The tears came fast and hard, and you struggled to keep your sobs quiet as you rode up to their floor.

When you reached their room and knocked, Will opened the door, his smile fading instantly when he saw your tear-streaked face. Without a word, he pulled you into a tight hug, wrapping his arms around you protectively. The warmth of his embrace made you feel better, even if just for a moment.

Jay quickly crossed the space between you, "What happened?" he asked, his voice tense.

You tried to speak, but your voice caught in your throat. The pain was too raw, the words too painful. Instead, you just shook your head, fresh tears spilling down your cheeks. Will held you tighter, his hand gently rubbing your back in a soothing motion.

"He... he was with someone else," you finally managed to choke out between sobs, your voice barely above a whisper.

Jay's face turned red with anger, his fists clenching at his sides. "What?" he nearly shouted; his voice filled with fury. He took a step towards the door, clearly ready to confront your husband. "I'm gonna kill him," he muttered under his breath.

Will, still holding you close, turned to block Jay's path. "No, Jay," he said firmly, "This isn't the time. She needs us."

"I don't know what I'm going to do," you said, more tears streaming down your face as the realization hit you—you were now possibly homeless. You felt the weight of everything, slowly crushing you. But you needn’t worry about anything.

Jay offered you a place to stay and went back with you to collect the rest of your belongings. He was also there when you filed for divorce. Despite his assurances that he didn't mind you staying with him, you started looking for a place of your own. When you thought you had found one, Jay insisted it "wasn't safe enough" for you. So, almost nine months later, you’re still living with him. It had been a long time since you had a brother around, and you'd forgotten how much of a nuisance they could be—but you loved it.

You're now a nurse at Gaffney, the same hospital where Will works. While you love being near your brothers, the ER can be incredibly stressful, and when it gets overwhelming, you find yourself at Molly's, sitting on your usual barstool. Herrmann could tell just by the look on your face which usual you needed. You had two orders: one for a good day and one for a bad one. Clearly, today was the latter.

You smiled as the drink appeared in front of you. "Thanks, Hermie," you said, picking up the shot glass and downing it in one go, welcoming the familiar burn.

"No problem, kid," he said, a gentle smile playing on his lips. "Wanna talk about it?" You shook your head, offering a grateful smile. He casually draped the towel over his shoulder and placed another drink in front of you, a glass of coke with double vodka, "You know where to find me if you change your mind."

You nodded once more as he moved to serve other patrons. You let your eyes leave their place on the glass and wander around the bar. Many people were regulars, in fact all of them were except for one.

He caught your eye immediately. He was quite possibly the hottest person you’d ever laid your eyes on. He was definitely older than you, by about 20 years but damn you didn’t care. His short, neatly trimmed hair was greying slightly but it only made him sexier. As you continue to admire him you could feel yourself being pulled from reality as your eyes trace his strong jawline. They then made their way further south to where the luckiest pieces of clothing hugs him. Especially the leather jacket. You love leather jackets. You’re not sure why but when they are wrapped around men like that, do you need a reason?

He must have felt your eyes on him because his flicked over to them. You quickly avert your eyes back to your glass, feeling a blush creep up your cheeks and you hope that it’s dark enough so no one can see.

You want to talk to him, but you feel you need some more liquid courage. You continued to drink your double vodka and coke and when you finished you signalled for a refill but just coke this time. You picked up the drink and made your way over to the man and sat beside him.

“Hey, I haven’t seen you here before,” you said, trying to make yourself sound like you weren’t completely freaking out on the inside.

“It’s not my usual place,” he replied with the deepest gravelly voice you had ever heard. You had to squeeze your thighs shut because of the effect it had on you.

Nevertheless, you try and ignore the feeling and held your hand out to him, “I’m (y/n)” you said with a small smile.

“Henry” he replied, placing his hand in yours. The rough skin on his fingertips felt good against your soft skin. You couldn’t help but think where else they’d feel good.

You both talked for a while as more people started to filter in. It started to get really loud and you wouldn’t mind going somewhere private with Henry. So you asked, “Hey, wanna go somewhere quieter,” you bite your lip hoping he says yes... And he does.

The drive to his was quiet, I left you to your thoughts. This wasn’t what you intended when you left the apartment tonight but hey apparently sex is a great stress reliever and you have a feeling you are about to be well taken care of.

You shoot Jay a quick text to let him know you are okay and as you press send you stopped. He’s a gentleman and opens the door for you and holds his hand out for you to take.

You take it and you get out of the car, following him into the house, his hand on the small of your back guiding you towards it.

The next few moments are a blur. As soon as the door shut, his mouth was on yours. The kiss started off tender but slowly got more passionate. You certainly weren’t complaining. He slowly guided you towards the bedroom, his lips never leaving yours. You had no idea where in the house you were until the back of your legs hit the cool sheets. His hands moved from your face to the zipper on your dress pulling it down swiftly. He slid the small straps down your arms as you fiddled with the buttons on his shirt. The dress dropped from your frame and pooled at your feet, leaving you in just your underwear. When you undid the last button, you slowly removed both the shirt and the leather jacket. You let your hands follow the garments until they landed on his belt. Your mouths were still attached. You could taste the whiskey on his tongue and he could taste the vodka on yours. You continue fumbling with his jeans until thy joined your dress. His hands glide down your body until they reach your ass, you moan as he gives them a firm squeeze before lifting you up.

He turned and sat on the bed, so you were straddling him. You could feel him beneath you and you couldn’t help but grind against him. When he groaned you felt your pussy yip as if it had just been shocked. Was anything this man did not sexy?

Your tongues continue to battle each other as your wet core rides his clothed hardness. Until you couldn’t take it anymore. You stood only to remove your panties. He removed his boxers quickly before you climbed back on top of him, wasting no time sinking down on him.

“fuck* you breathed, the word falling from your lips as your head falls back.

His hands hold your shoulders, slamming you down harder on him. You were already seeing stars and you had barely started.

His lips attached themselves to your neck, licking and nibbling at the soft flesh. They then trailed lower towards your still covered breasts. He kissed the valley between but made no movement to take off the piece of fabric in his way. So you reached behind you and unclasped it, discarding it with the rest of your clothes.

He smirked against your skin taking one in his mouth, sucking hard on the sensitive nub, his hand played with the other, rolling it between his thumb and index finger. Then he switched, giving them equal attention.

Without warning, he stood up and chucked you onto the bed, leaving you feeling cold and empty. Your hand went to your clit to give you something as he climbed towards you. Eyes locked on you as if you were his prey.

His hand slowly runs up your thigh until it reaches your hand. He looks at you and you move your hand and rest it on your stomach. His hand replaces yours. Teasing you. One finger gliding through the lips, dipping it ever so slightly into your wet hole.

“Please” you whimpered as his fingers continue to tease you.

With a smirk, he enters you fully, making you arch off the bed. He starts to move in and out, your body begging for more. You can’t help but let out a low moan that echoes through the room.

“Oh, baby, you like that?” he whispers in your ear, his voice sending shivers down your spine.

You nod your head, unable to form words as pleasure overtakes you.

He slammed into you, hard and fast, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the darkness. You dig your nails into the bed, trying to hold on as he fucks you into oblivion.

You’re not sure how long it goes on, but you feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge.

And just as you’re about to go over, he pulls out and flips you onto your stomach, pushing your legs apart. You know what’s coming next, and the few second wait is almost too much to handle. He slams into you from behind, his hands gripping your hips tightly as he drives into you, over and over again.

You bite the pillow to muffle your screams as he takes you roughly, your body trembling with every thrust. You can feel yourself about to cum, and you know it’s going to be the best fucking orgasm of your life.

Finally, with one last, hard thrust, you do. Your orgasm rips through you like a tornado in a trailer park, leaving you a trembling mess on the bed. Henry follows shortly after, his own groan of pleasure muffled against your neck.

The two of you collapse onto the bed, both panting and sweaty. You lay there for a moment, trying to catch your breath, before you feel him roll over and wrap an arm around you.

The next morning you open your eyes, and you don’t recognise your surroundings. Your eyes squeeze shut as the bright light burns them and you become aware of the arm draped across your bare waist. Its then you remember the events from last night and it wasn’t just an amazing dream.

As your mind replays the sex a tone begins to sound. You knew it wasn’t your phone. The arm removed itself from your body and the sound stopped shortly after.

You turned to look at him, “hi,” your voice is small and unsure. You hadn’t done anything like this before so you didn’t know the protocol.

“Hey... I uh... Got to get to work,” he said removing the covers and going to get changed, “I’ll take you to get your car,”

“Thank you,” you smiled as you grab your outfit off the floor and quickly threw it on. You got your phone out your bag and checked the time, “shit,”

“What’s wrong?” Henry asked turning around as he continued buttoning up his shirt.

“Nothing, just my brother might have left for work already and he hasn’t given me a spare key,” you groaned inwardly. You couldn’t show up at the hospital looking like this.

As soon as you both were ready, as promised, Henry took you back to Molly’s to get your car. Much to your disappointment, plans were not made to see each other again.

You got in your car and drove as fast as you could without breaking the law but when you got there it was indeed too late. Jay had already gone to work. You got back in your car and headed to his workplace. What a first impression you were going to make. You haven’t met any of Jay’s colleagues and dressed in last night’s outfit and possibly smelling like sex.

You took a deep breath as you walked through the doors and up the steps to find a huge desk in front of you. You watched as the woman gave a sarcastic reply to a couple of patrol officers and you tried to stifle a laugh but failed. Her eyes flashed over to you, “Can I help you?” she asked in a tone that would probably send the uniforms running but you just give her your sweetest smile.

“I’m looking for my brother, Jay Halstead,”

“Oh, so you’re the mini-Halstead,” she said with the same tone, “Lets hope you aren’t like the other two,”

“Well, I’m a female,” you shrugged “Thats a difference,”

She pointed to another set of stairs leading up to a gate, “He’s up there,” she said resting her hand on the button waiting to buzz you in.

As soon as you hear it buzz, you open the gate and head up the rest of the steps. Jay spotted you before you got to the top.

“Look who decided to show up,” he called out. Everyone in the room turned to look at you and you kinda felt a little exposed. They probably thought you were a prostitute or something.

“Jay, I don’t have time for this,” you said walking over to his desk, your palm held out ready to receive the keys, “I’ve got to go to work,”

He fished the keys from his pocket and tossed them up in the air, a smug grin on his face, “Come home at a reasonable time then,”

“Or you could have gotten me a key cut, asshole,” you said rolling your eyes as you put the keys in your bag. When you looked back at your brother, he was looking at you funny, “What?”

“Where did you get that jacket?” he asked pointing to the leather jacket Henry gave you. You had forgotten you were wearing it.

You shrugged, “Just a friend,” you replied nonchalantly. Jay went to say something else when a voice spoke from behind you. A familiar one. You turned and sure enough, there he was, “Henry?”

It didn’t take a detective to connect the dots. You had slept with your brother’s boss. You hadn’t meant to. You had no idea who he was. But the thing is... You want to do it again. You want to fuck him again.

[A/N 2.0] Part 2?

[1hot-mess-express1]

Eepy

WC: 3,084

Based on Eloguentmoon's Romantic Confessions prompt #12 “You are all I can think about.” 

Summary: Satoru can't sleep, and it's all your fault

CW: Slightly suggestive

A/N: I wrote this way too fast, not sure I like it but the brain rot is getting to me (Not proofread). Also would love to have someone to Beta read/edit since I can never bring myself to do that haha, so if anyone is interested message me!

Satoru’s alarm blares through the otherwise quiet morning air, and he can’t be bothered to jump in surprise despite its ear-grating volume. With a groan, he swings his arm over to slap at his phone a few times, somehow effectively turning off the alarm before reaching up to drag his hand across his face and rubbing the grit from his sunken eyes. He sits upright, his head sagging slightly, his feet haphazardly placed on the ground, and he is staring at his wall, trying to gain the motivation to hoist himself from the bed. He doesn’t notice when his eyes droop and his hands fall limp at his side until he’s startled from his partial sleep by obnoxiously loud music wafting in from your shared bathroom down the hall. He curses before standing up and shuffling his way to the bathroom. Standing in the hallway, he looks at you through the mirror as you brush your teeth, getting toothpaste all over your cheeks before glancing up at him and smiling through your toothbrush. 

“So you’re why these counters are always so dirty, huh? Knew it wasn’t me,” Satoru chuckles to himself while you spit the foam into the sink, effectively spraying the entire bowl. 

You turn to face him fully, hands on your hips like some kind of angry cartoon character. “You’re so full of it, Gojo. You get toothpaste all over the mirror. Just the other day, I watched you wipe hair gel on the counter, too.” 

“Did not, whatever, move. It’s my turn. I have an exam today, and I can’t be late.” He emphasizes his point by lightly shoving you with his shoulder before reaching for his toothbrush. With a grumble and a subtle stomp, you push into his side, reaching for the water cup. 

“It's not my fault you slept in, loser.” You make a point of sticking your tongue out at him in the mirror before filling your cup and swishing your mouth out. Satoru reaches over your hand to grab the capless toothpaste before placing some onto his toothbrush and bringing it to his mouth. 

“It's not my fault I was up all night either,” he mumbles through his toothbrush, lazily swiping at his pearly whites while glaring daggers into you through the mirror as you begin to brush out your hair. 

“I fail to see how that’s my fault. You didn’t have to stay up and movie marathon with me…could have gone to bed at any point.” You elbow him slightly while yanking at a particularly gruesome knot in your hair and fail to notice the slight blush that covers his cheeks at your statement. You’re right; he didn’t have to stay up, but when he thinks back to last night, having you curled up to his side, head resting on his shoulder while you make the softest snoring noise, he can’t help but think that he’d do it again in a heartbeat. 

“Yeah, right, you woulda cried like a baby if I said no. Can’t make it through a jump scare without crying about it,” he giggles to himself before ruffling your hair, effectively undoing your progress, and sliding out of the bathroom before you could yell at him. 

He clicks the door shut and rubs his eyes again. God, he was so lovesick, literally. 

The exhaustion from staying up late with you made him feel awful. His eyes were egregiously sunken in, his skin paler than usual, and his stomach twisted in knots. He couldn’t focus while studying, his mind always wandering to you; he wondered what you were up to, what movies you might watch tonight, and if you ended up texting that frat guy back. He thought about how cute you looked in his shirt, washing the dishes while you bitched about it not being his day to do laundry; honestly, he wasn’t paying attention. How could he when you were standing there, engulfed in his shirt, the late sun highlighting your profile perfectly, the back of your plush thighs staring at him, begging to be squeezed? 

After you fell asleep against him during your now nightly movie binges, he found himself tossing and turning in his bed, unable to sleep while visions of you flashed through his mind repeatedly. Thinking of your hands on his thigh haphazardly as the tiny breaths you puffed out tickled his neck, your chest unknowingly squished into his arm so he could feel the slow rise and fall of your chest—nothing like his own erratic breaths as he tried desperately to keep his attention on whatever movie was playing. When he’d tuck you into your bed after you fell asleep, sometimes he couldn’t help but sit and watch you as you slept so peacefully, unaware of his presence, your hair falling around your face and your arms tucked close to your chin. He knows how creepy that sounds, but he was frankly lovesick, like he said. 

After dragging his palms down his face, he pushes himself from the door with a newfound determination to just get today over with. He throws on a hoodie before glancing at himself in the mirror. He looked like shit. He stops for a moment and contemplates doing his hair or even throwing on jeans to try and feel more like himself, but even reaching his arms up to his head makes him feel exhausted, so with a groan, he throws on a beanie and decides not to think about it. 

When he makes his way to the front door, he’s met with you, tipped over in a skirt, trying to pull on your shoes; the back of your skirt is riding up, nearly exposing your panties to him. 

“Gojo?” You must have felt him staring, and he felt his face heat up in response. 

He gulps the shakiness in his voice down before speaking, “Yeah?”

“Do you want to walk to class together today?” you stand up to your full height now, and he can’t help but give you a once over; he looks like a bum next to you, “I have a presentation today, so I figured I should show up a little early.” You offer him a smile as you pull a coat on, trapping your hair underneath it. 

Almost on instinct, he steps towards you and pulls the hair out from your coat, noticing how good you smell when he drops the locks down to your shoulders, “Sure, but I gotta be quick, can’t miss another exam, or I’m fucked, think you can keep up?” He chuckles lightly before swinging his bag over his shoulders and peering down at you. 

“That’s a pretty high demand, considering your legs are so freakishly long, but I’ll try.” you let out a breathy laugh before grabbing your bag and reaching for the door. 

Satoru slips his shoes on and follows you into the crisp morning air. 

“I mean this in the nicest way possible, but you look like shit.” You say while looking him over once and taking in his slightly disheveled appearance. Really, he didn’t look much different than every other overworked college student, but he didn’t look like Gojo. He always wore something bordering on too nice for school, dress pants or jeans and a button-up shirt of some kind, never sweat pants and a hoodie.

He scoffed, kicking at rocks on the sidewalk, “So you wore something nice once, and now I’m the bum? Jeez, that’s unfair.” 

“Rude, first of all, I look cute in my sweats, I’ll have you know; secondly, it’s just…weird, you hate leaving your hair down and have told me on several occasions that you can’t stand the way it gets in your eyes, but also you just look sick, are you sleeping okay?” You spare him a glance before looking down towards your shoes, your voice growing a little quieter, “You really don’t have to stay up with me, yaknow?”

“No,” he stammers out a bit too fast for his liking, slowing his pace a little to look at you entirely, “I mean, that’s not it, I just…have a lot on my mind yaknow? Term’s almost over so I’ll be able to sleep all I want soon, and I’ll be back to annoying the shit outta you don’t worry” he lets out a hearty laugh at his last statement. You seem to perk up a little at this statement as if you were really worried about him. 

The rest of the day drags on forever. He falls asleep in his last class, not stirring, even when his classmates hurriedly stuff their belongings into their bags. He lies there blissfully unaware of the world around him. That is until he’s jolted back to reality by a delicate hand pushing his hair away from his eyes. Groggy and unsure, he looks up to see you through the stubborn sleep in his eyes. You look upset, brows furrowed, and a hand on your hip while you lean down to be at eye level with him. 

“That’s it, you’re grounded, Mr.” you huff out before pushing his shoulder in an attempt to get him to move from his place on the desk. 

“Who the fuck’r you to ground me?” he mutters out, slowly making his way to stand before offering you an indignant look. 

“At this rate, I’m starting to think I’m your mother,” you state before reaching down to grab his bag, but he swats your hand away, slinging it over his shoulder haphazardly. 

“Don’t need you to baby me, ‘m grown yaknow?” he speaks through a yawn while stretching out his obscenely lanky body, showing off just the tiny bit of midriff, causing you to avert your eyes with a light flush to your cheeks, but this goes unnoticed by Satoru’s hazy mind. 

“At this rate, I’m afraid you’ll fall asleep in traffic,” you grumble out, tagging behind him as he slowly trudges out to the parking lot. He trips over his own feet a bit, his exhaustion weighing on him like a ton of bricks, swaying slightly, blinking repeatedly in an effort to keep himself awake and upright, blue eyes burning from the afternoon sun. Your smaller frame, keeping pace with him, easily draws a look of concern on your features before you throw his arm over your shoulder in an effort to keep him walking straight. He recedes further into his hood in an effort to hide the blush creeping across his face. Your smaller frame does little to keep him upright; he’s certain that if he were to collapse right now, he’d take you both out, but he keeps this thought to himself, not wanting you to let go of him. He pulls you ever so slightly closer to him, nerves alive at the feel of your small hand on his back despite the copious layers between you. 

You walk home the rest of the way in silence, only letting go of him when you breach the front door of your shared apartment, where Satoru drops his bag at the door with a dramatic thud before sulking over to the couch throwing himself across the couch and reaching for the remote, absentmindedly scrolling through Netflix. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” you snap out before striding over to him, snatching the remote from his hands and moving to the edge of the couch before yanking his shoes off, halfheartedly tossing them in front of the door. 

“Well, I was looking for a movie, grump ass,” Satoru mumbles pulling his feet closer to himself in embarrassment. 

“Nope, I said you’re grounded, go get in your bed,” You really were starting to sound like his mom at this rate. 

He looks up at you, absolutely flabbergasted, mouth opening and closing as he tries to find the words to tell you just how insane you sound. 

“Gojo, you can’t hardly stand up straight, you look like shit, and pretty soon your grades are gonna start dropping…” You bark out before looking meek, fiddling with a stray thread on the arm of the couch to avoid his gaze before continuing, “I’m worried about you. What’s going on?” you look up at him with probably the most adorable look on your face and he’s not sure why, but he crumbles on the spot, he’ll blame the lack of sleep later if this goes poorly for him.

 Folding his arms under his chin, letting his eyes fall closed he mumbles, “It’s your fault anyways,” silently praying you dont hear him but of course you do. 

“How is this my fault?” you bark out with offense, “You’re the one choosing to stay up, besides I know you stay up after you put me to bed.” 

At this, his eyes shoot up, and his face goes beat red. Have you heard him? Oh god, he wishes the floor would swallow him whole at the thought alone. You knew he put you to bed, too? Obviously, you didn’t think you teleported to your bed, but why didn’t you say anything? His heart was in his throat, and his eyes began to sting. This was definitely the exhaustion. He buries his face deeper into the couch, hoping to avoid whatever this is, but of course, you saunter around the couch and crouch down to his level, pushing his hair back with a tentative hand. 

“Gojo…please, just tell me what’s wrong, I can’t stand to see you like this…” your voice barely above a whisper. He mumbles into the couch, tucking his head impossibly further into the cushions. 

“What?” You lean in impossibly closer, and he feels dizzy. God, why were you like this?

His head shoots up from the couch, allowing you too see just how red his face is, blue eyes determined and brows trained down in anger. 

“You’re all I can fucking think about, and it’s killing me!” He huffs out in a single breath. Your eyes go wide, and you bring your hand closer to your chest, leaning back on your heels and putting distance between you two. 

When you speak, your voice is shaky and barely audible, “I-I’m sorry…” Shit, his jaw goes slack, and he can’t seem to find the words when your eyes glitter, threatening to spill over with tears at his sudden outburst. 

“No, fuck, I-I…It’s not your fault. I’m sorry, I just…” He reaches out tentatively, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear and rubbing soothing circles into your cheek, searching your eyes for the words that might make this better. He lets out a heavy sigh, looking down again, he thinks to himself fuck it. He looks back up at you, gently urging your head closer to his, “You’re all I can think about. You’re gonna be the death of me,” he lets out a breathy laugh, “I close my eyes to sleep, and all I can see is your cute little pout begging me to share my snacks, or the way you look first thing in the morning, hair a mess and eyes heavy with sleep, when I read I hear you laugh over and over again, that sweet giggle or the roaring laughter that has you rolling on the floor, I think about how you feel pressed into my side, the way I count your heartbeats to keep myself from freaking out cause I’m afraid to wake you. God, I think about how you call me Gojo still despite the fact that we live together cause you’re grossly polite; I just can’t get you out of my head.” His voice trails off at the end as your silence engulfs him in shame, and he can't bear to look you in the eyes anymore. He moves to pull his hand away from you, ready to rot in his room, never escaping his shame again, but instead, you place your much smaller hand over his; your hand is freezing, but his skin feels like it’s on fire. 

“I-I don’t actually fall asleep on movie nights,” you stutter out and he looks at you brows clenched in confusion. “I…I just pretend to sleep so I can get closer to you, a-and that day I stole your shirt? I still had clothes to wear but you left it in my basket and I couldn’t help myself” you mumble out gaze trained on a loose thread in his hoodie. 

He looks at you, blinking in confusion before what you said registers, and a devilish smirk makes its way across his features. 

“You’re a filthy pervert, huh? Sorry, I never would have pegged you for the creepy roommate.” He lets out a hearty laugh as your face goes beat red. 

“Hey, I know about your underwear collection, Satoru, if you play that game.” It's his turn to feel embarrassed as he reaches his uncannily long arms over the edge of the couch, dragging you over the side and settling you to lay on his chest. 

“Say that again sweet girl,” he speaks in a whisper brushing your hair back and staring egregiosuly at your lips. 

“I know about your underwear collection?...Satoru,” You state in a teasing tone, leaning slightly in to his lips. 

He lets out a breathy chuckle before closing the distance and encompassing your lips in a restrained kiss. You let out the smallest whimper, and his grip tightens around your waist as he begins trying to coax your mouth open for him. He presses you against him, relishing in the way you shiver when his warm hand reaches under your shirt, feather-light touches causing you to squeak into his mouth. He wastes no time tracing the edge of your tongue with his slow and deliberate teasing. You reach into his hair, pulling lightly at his hair before pulling your face away from his, looking into his eyes, and pushing the stray hairs back away from his eyes. 

“You’re still grounded; nothing nasty until you sleep, lover boy,” you smile through the words, and Satoru is certain that his heart stopped right then and there. 

“Yeah yeah whatever, going to sleep now,” he says before rolling onto his side, tugging you close to him, burying his nose into your hair, letting his eyes fall closed as his breaths begin to even out, focusing on the way your chest rises and falls against his. For the first time in entirely too long he falls into a deep sleep, clutching tightly to your frame, oh yeah you were in for it when he woke up. 

[brucewaynehater101]

Hurt/comfort AU based on a dream I had:

Tim has been Robin for a short time now.

Bruce finds Tim's fanfiction account.

At this point in time, Bruce has warmed up a little bit to Tim, but they still have a more professional relationship. Tim thinks he has to earn his spot still.

Bruce finds Tim's fanfiction account that has fics from before and after Tim becomes Robin.

The before ones are self-insert Bats ones. Plots like a nine, ten, and eleven year old being saved, being the witness to a crime, or solving the case before them. They all end with the self-insert joining the team.

The ones after Tim becomes Robin are filled with Batman being fatherly and kind to the self-insert (who's an additional vigilante) or to Robin. He'll ruffle their hair, hug them, and tell them that he's proud of them. All of this is stuff Bruce currently doesn't do for Tim.

There's only a few fics where Batman is written in embarrassed situations (and Bruce crossed referenced the upload dates. Some of the dates were after Bruce did something mean or fucked up. The others, Bruce has no idea why Tim might have been upset).

When Bruce first reads the fics, he's mad. He, incorrectly, assumes that Tim has always been trying to become part of the team and took the first opportunity available. He's cold to Tim for a few weeks because of this (because Bruce is an emotionally constipated asshole who doesn't communicate).

Then Bruce starts to notice that the relationships Tim describes in his fics don't match up with how their relationship currently is. The teen doesn't eagerly ramble about his activities, ask Bruce to hang out with him, or otherwise engage unless it's mission related.

In fact, Tim's fanfics seem to portray what doesn't happen in their interactions. With Bruce being cold to Tim, the self-insert gets more hugs, words of affection, and praise.

Bruce learns more about Tim's hobbies, likes, dislikes, and passions from the fanfics than he ever knew. Bruce has the startling realization that they just don't talk.

There's a few fics Bruce has been avoiding (the ones with Robin II tags), but he read the ones with Nightwing. Tons of brotherly bonding and affection, basically.

Bruce finally makes up his mind when Tim releases a new fanfic a few days after an interaction with Poison Ivy. In the fic, Robin had gotten dosed with cuddle pollen and was cuddled all night with Batman and Nightwing.

Bruce is in a panic because he realizes that Tim could've gone back to his own house afflicted with cuddle pollen, and Bruce would have never known. He doesn't even know if Tim was making this fanfic as a desire due to him actually being dosed or if it just came to his mind. This freaks Bruce the fuck out.

Thus, Bruce then uses the fanfics as guides for how he should be acting with Tim and Dick. He puts the effort to be a better mentor and parent to them.

It freaks the other two out at first (and Tim is the most resistant to the change), but they slowly become closer.

Bruce never tells anyone that he found Tim's fanfic account.

Part 2: After Red Hood comes back and does the whole Titan's Tower Attack.

Bruce, after realizing that Tim's fanfiction account now had Red Hood fics (both ones making fun of the man and ones where the crime lord is being kind/brotherly), tells Jason mid-fight that he should check out this random fanfic account Bruce thinks he'd enjoy.

Jason, obviously fucking confused why Batman is recommending fanfiction in the middle of a fight, just stops.

Bruce nods at this, tells Jason he cares about him (Bruce has been working on it!), and then just leaves.

Cue Jason researching this account (that he doesn't initially know is Tim's) and going through a series of conflicted emotions.

[gallusrostromegalus]

Ask game: 39, 39, 39, 39, oh and also 39

Blease give me more of your writing your brain weirdness is extremely satisfying to my brain weirdness in a way that few others understand or can replicate

Immediately after the battle with Aizen, in what's left of Fake Karakura:

--

Something neon pink appeared at Shinji's elbow At Speed and he startled, yelping loudly and having to fight the reflex to kick what appeared to be a small girl.

"HeyifyouseemydadIwaswiththefallbacktimethewholetimeokay?" She spoke at a speed Shinji had only ever heard from a dangerously overcaffienated Mashiro before.

"I'm not lying for you, Kusajishi." sighed Kuchiki.

"YACHIRU!" someone bellowed loud enough to make the few unbroken windows ring, and Shinji turned to the sound of Ominous Jingling to see a giant of a man with a peculiar vertical hairstyle and a captain's Haori approaching, livid.

"Shit." She muttered, turning to grin sheepishly at her father as he stomped over, expression dark and a tiny, teal-haired toddler on his hip.

"Where were you supposed to be today?" The Giant growled down at Yachiru, and Kuchiki excused himself to sit down on a nearby piece of bench-height rubble.

"...You told me to stay with the fallback team in Seireitei." She sighed.

"So why are you here?" the giant growled.

"BECAUSE YOU'VE BEEN WEIRD ALL MONTH AND IF SOMETHING HAPPENED TO YOU IN LAS NOCHES I'D NEVER FORGIVE MYSELF!" She shouted, reflexive foot-stomp blasting out a wave of enraged reiatsu.

"So, uh, who're Pinky and Punky here?" Shinji asked, limping over to sit down to watch next to Kuchiki.

"Eleventh Division Captain Zaraki Kenpachi and his daughter, Yachiru Kusajishi." Kuchiki nodded. "They're loud, but honorable and reliable."

"I'VE BEEN WEIRD ALL MONTH BECAUSE- Shit, it's- Its complicated, okay?" Kenpachi groaned.

"And the other girl?" Shinji asked.

"I believe Kurosaki said her name was 'Nel' or similar." Kuchiki nodded. "Not entirely sure why Zaraki is the one carrying her around but it's nothing to worry about. He's great with kids."

"SINCE WHEN HAS 'COMPLICATED' BEEN A REASON TO HIDE STUFF FROM ME?" Yachiru demanded, bristling at him.

"Great with kids, huh?" Shinji glanced over at Kuchiki.

"-BECAUSE I DIDN'T KNOW WHAT WAS GOING ON EITHER UNTIL ABOUT TWO HOURS AGO! WHAT IF SOMETHING HAD HAPPENED TO YOU, HUH? IT'S *MY* JOB TO WORRY ABOUT WHAT HAPPENS TO YOU, NOT THE OTHER WAY AROUND DAMMIT!"

"Oh, nevermind, I see what you mean." Shinji nodded and there was the barest hint of a smirk on Kuchiki's face.

Yachiru sniffled, tearing up with rage. "WHAT? I'M NOT ALLOWED TO WORRY ABOUT YOU!?"

"YOU CAN WORRY ALL YOU WANT BUT YOU CAN'T RISK YOUR HIDE FOR MY SAKE, THAT'S NOT HOW IT FUCKING WORKS-!" he roared, jabbing his finger at Yachiru.

"Can I have a juice?" the teal-haired toddler asked from Zaraki's hip.

"-In a minute Yachiru, I need to-" Kenpachi started and stopped. He blinked a few times, then slowly turned to frown at Nel, then at Yachiru, then back at Nel, pointing between the two girls and expression shifting from rage to utter confusion.

"Did you see another abandoned baby and just pick it up because it was Yachiru-shaped and Neon Colored?" Kuchiki called, teasing.

Kenpachi looked up at him, bewildered "MAYBE??" and Yachiru rolled her eyes behind him.

"That’s the most 'Raised By Birds' thing you’ve done in a while." Kuchiki laughed, getting up to peer down at Nel with curiosity.

"Raised by WHAT?" Shinji asked, jogging up after him.

Kenpachi Stood up straight, shaking his shoulders like he was ruffling feathers. "One, I’m not putting her back, two, who the fuck are these assholes?" He asked, gesturing at Shinji and the other Visored who had started to gather in the rubble to catch their breath after the battle.

"Remember how half the captains had fallen in battle or otherwise vanished before you showed up?" Byakuya asked.

"No, because I wasn’t there." Huffed Kenpachi, rifling through his Kosode and producing a Juice Box for Nel. "-but I remember Ikkaku complaining about the employee turnover."

"-AND I WAS RIGHT!" Ikkaku bellowed from his stretcher behind them, too injured to stand but not about to stop fighting, as expected of someone wearing the 11th Division's lieutenant insignia.

"YOU'RE STILL IN DEEP SHIT FOR THAT BANKAI THING, CUEBALL." Zaraki holled back at his lieutenant, who only turned his head away, sulking.

"Apparently the assorted missing officers weren’t dead, they just caught an artificially induced case of hollowfication from Aizen, but managed to survive and stayed out here in the living world to recover and learn to control their abilities out of sight from him." Kuchiki explained. Beside them, meaningful eye contact was exchanged between father and daughter, and he gave her a juice box as well. "Tactical." Zaraki nodded approvingly. "Also, non-zero chance The Old Man would have killed y'all on sight."

"Er. Yeah." Shinji winced, looking over his shoulder to where a surprisingly non-apocalyptic-looking Captain-General was discussing something with Unohana.

"This man specifically is is Hirako Shinji, Aizen’s former boss." Kuchiki continued, introducing them properly. "Captain Hirako, Captain Zaraki."

"Hiya!" Shinji grinned, holding out a hand for Zaraki to shake, but instead, he too was handed a juice box.

Kenpachi eyed Shinji in a not precisely hostile but still unnerving manner, as he offered Kuchiki a juice box as well and when turned down, opened it for himself and drank, studying him.

"…This explains six or seven things." Zaraki finally spoke, nodding sagely.

Shinji glared up at the giant. "Excuse me?"

Kuchiki waved a hand between Shinji and Zaraki. "I promise, it’s technically a compliment."

"Yeah, if Ken-chan didn't like you, you wouldn't have a head right now." Yachiru giggled.

"Mostly explains the two sets of teaspoons in the 5th division break room." Zaraki nodded, holding his hands out to his sides. "You're, whatsit- tiger-tiger thing?"

"Huh?" Puzzled Shinji.

"Symmetry?" Tried Kuchiki. "I do recall Captain Hirako having immense talent with mirroring and reversing text and other things."

"That's the bitch!" Zaraki grinned. "Not a bad idea though, you always have enough spoons."

"Huh. I guess so?" Shinji pondered, eyeballing Zaraki in turn. "Kenpachi, so you're captain of the 11th? If I remember correctly, Kiganjo was the tenth Kenpachi- so how many Kenpachis did we run through while I was away?"

"Just him for the last century. Only the two serious challenges to his post." Kuchiki explained, looking almost... proud? There were strange political currents swirling here, leaving Shinji feeling adrift.

"For real?" Shinji asked with genuine admiration. Outside of statistical outliers like Unohana and The Old Man, it was rare for a captain to hold their post for more than two centuries, and the average in the 11th more like 60 years.

Kenpachi waved his hand noncommitally. "One and a half. Tetsuzaimon Iba was really challenging his Mother by proxy." he corrected, head tilting with a jingle and Shinji realized the vertiginous hairstyle was there to support a dozen or so small bells, before the rest of the sentence caught up with him.

"Tetsuzaimon?" Shinji blinked. "Wasn't that what Chikane Iba was going to call her son?

"Yah." Zaraki nodded, sounding like a sleigh full of presents.

Shinji stared blankly. "But- but- She was still pregnant when I.. left? He’s an infant!

"Nah, Lieutenant Iba's a whole-ass man now." Zaraki looked over his shoulder. "Ay Iba-" he called to a robust man with sunglasses wearing the 7th Division's lieutenant's badge, currently engaged in picking up Ikkaku and moving him out of the way for the 4th division triage. "-How come you're spotless when my vice looks like someone fucked up at the abattoir?"

"Hi Captain Zaraki!" Iba waved back, , Ikkaku slung over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. "It's because he's a fucking idiot, sir!"

"FUCK YOU!" Ikkaku shrieked, flipping them off from where he hung awkwardly over his friend's shoulder.

"FUCK ME YOURSELF YOU COWARD!" Zaraki bellowed back.

Shinji watched the spectacle with wide eyes, slowly coming to an unpleasant realization, before slowly putting a hand on Kuchiki’s shoulder. "…Sojun." He sighed, using his colleauges given name with heavy morose. "I’m afraid we may be Old Men now."

Kuchiki turned and blinked at him, confused. "I’m Byakuya."

It was Shinji's turn to stare in confusion. "...Kuchiki Byakuya isn't even in the Academy yet?"

"No, I'm a captain now. Sojun, my father, died shortly after your disappearance." Apparently-Byakuya explained, arching a concerned eyebrow down at him.

"Fucking what." Shinji said flatly, feeling like he'd been drained of all color and redrawn with a sharpie by someone's off-hand.

"HAH!" Barked Zaraki. "Yer Old Fart, Tiger."

Byakuya scoffed up at Zaraki. "What’s that make you then?"

"An Ancient and Revered Relic, thank you." Kenpachi said, puffing up his chest in mock-pride.

"What's going on?" Nel asked Yachiru in a loud whisper.

"Bowlcut here is an old fart who is just now realizing that he's an old fart, but he’s younger than me, so he’s also a baby." Yachiru explained. "Either way, impressive bowel control for his age!"

"HEY!" Yelped Shinji.

"Drink ya Battle Victory juice, Tiger." Zaraki said, giving Shinji a consoling pat on the shoulder.

"...It's a bitter Juicy Juice I drink this day." Shinji sighed, disconsolately stabbing the box with the straw and drinking with despair.

[minhmynchi]

wingfrin bc i was thinking about the silly ☺️

feat. some twohats writing in the read more bc i would love to draw this but don't know how to compose it so i wrote it instead (edit: it's now on ao3 if reading on tumblr doesn't suit ur fancy)

You keep your wings hidden all the time, now. They were adequately sized, enough to glide short distances like the Housemaiden, but that's no longer the case. As you push past what you unfortunately recognize as your thousandth loop, you are painfully aware of how your wings pull and tear at your cloak every loop, ripping it only to become fixed when you loop back after dying to the King or otherwise. Every loop, your wings grow the smallest bit bigger, and you can't help but tear a feather off each time, using the pain to ground you better than the quick, useless reset your dagger was.

Wrap your wings around yourself, pull a piece off, mutter something thrice or more, let it fall unceremoniously to the dark, cold floor of the House, unbeknownst to your friends who question you all the time but you shove it off because it's not like they can care anyways. They show as much, and you don't want to worry them, but one loop you seemed to have dropped a lot more feathers than necessary. You chalk it up to the half bottle of wine you had picked up and drank. You shivered, your hand reaching around your body once more, but the Kid pushes into you, pressing against your body in what you presume is an awkward no-arms hug, and you startle so bad that they flinch back and they look distraught for a moment before frowning pensively at you and crossing their arms. Saying that you looked bad, and pushing a hard candy into you until you let your arm show itself from its clothed cage, hand shakily taking the proffered treat.Your feathers ruffled, and a few fell to the ground, and the others stared at it, their own wings spreading in alarm as they stared at you with questions in their eyes. You quickly shove the candy into your mouth, relishing the new taste. Realizing the taste was not the only thing that was new.

You want to cry, but you march on into your designated failure. Down the familiar hallways of despair, even if your friends were acting weird.

A lot of things happened then. You had a talk, your hands were held, your face was cupped. You were given snacks, and told to say something, anything. Hands held once again in a sweaty grip, and you laugh for the first time in what felt like months. Years.

You do your best not to cry, because you can't have hope. Something new doesn't mean anything good. It can't.

You don't feel that great, but you think that this loop is a little more manageable until you get to the end.

And what an end it is.

You give up, but your friends don't. You remember their names, you see them for the first time, you really, truly see them.

You stand up. You hold your hand in a Scissors sign, channeling Craft through it, and your burning wings spread beneath your cloak, and it doesn't tear. No feathers fall.

But the King does.

And you won.

Right?

You won!

You want to collapse out of relief as your friends cheer and scream, and you feel the tears you held in for years suddenly start to overflow, and then you feel it.

The familiar tug on your stomach.

Before you know it, you were dragged all the way back to Dormont, and Mirabelle is leaning over you with a blissful smile on her face.

No, no, no--

You can't breathe, and your wings burn against your back, against your cloak, against the grass.

You smile at Mirabelle and she leaves.

You sit up, and make your way to the Favor Tree one last time.

You haven't been here in years.

Your wings, originally small and graceful, are now as big as your torso and feathers glide past your waist, hugging against you under your cloak.

You chase away Isabeau, your memory somehow not failing you (you try not to laugh as he leaves).

And you climb.

You climb, climb, climb up the Favor Tree, flapping your useless wings to help with balance. You toss down your hat in the process so you could see better, and you make it to the top.

You see that accursed House in the distance. The King's Craft, keeping it shrouded in night forever.

The King, who you killed, and should have stayed dead.

Why did you loop back?

Why?

You tear at a feather, and then another, and another as you whisper into each one, voice choked and hurried.

Why?

You know why.

You wanted to stay with your friends, and so you do! But you can't escape!

You want to stay with them, but not like this!

Night falls around you as you continue plucking your feathers, because you don't want to fly anymore. Whispering into the dark, light appears from somewhere you can't identify in your haze. Your wings hurt, your head hurts, everything hurts and burns and tears at your soul as you feel frustration and rage build up within you.

You can't take it anymore, as you hold up your last feather, covered in a dark, unidentifiable liquid. You wish, you wish, you wish one last time to be helped.

Someone, anyone...

Pain blooms through your entire body as the Universe listens, sending down a star into your outstretched hands and taking the feather with it.

Finally...

You rid yourself of your feathers, of your wings, of your friends, of yourself.

Dropping off of the canopy of leaves from the shock of the pain, unlike what you've inflicted upon yourself, unlike any you've experienced. You felt like you were being torn apart and rearranged, and you couldn't help but let out a scream as you fell, fell, fell.

And you wake up.

At the Favor Tree in Dormont.

You shove your face into your hands and scream so loud, you send a few birds flying, and you realize.

Your wings have returned, but they are no longer soft. Something much more sinister had happened, and you opened your eyes. Gazing into your lightless, starry hands.

And you laugh, shrill and manic.

Is this a joke?

Giant, inhuman wings to accompany your sudden inhuman body? Is this the Universe's idea of an escape? Of help?

There are no feathers to pluck. No pain to instill upon yourself any longer.

Right?

You attempt to check, but you hear a loud guffaw that tugs at your chest, and you peek around the tree and see yourself talking to Isabeau.

And that same self, that same mirror image walks up to the Favor Tree, and makes a wish. Their wings are free and fluttering, happy to be there.

You want to tear their feathers apart. Rip their wings from their back. Cause unimaginable pain to him, because what the stars is this?

Are you even Siffrin anymore, if this pitiful, laughable shadow is starting again for you?

The Universe pokes at your head, and you have to school your expression into something level.

You're here now. There's no doubt about that. Siffrin asked for help, and Siffrin will get it.

Blindingly ironic that it's not you that will get help.

Why give you wings if you could never fly free, if you'll be stuck for eternity again?

What else is there to gain when you have been given everything to lose?

[jaegeraether]

Sunsets and footballers (Part 68)

Lucy Bronze x Reader (56) / Alexia Putellas x Character (26) MINI

Masterlist (other parts here)

Join our WOSO Discord chat! Link in bio :)

((**< 1k**))

YFN POV

Sudden loud banging startled YFN and Lucy awake. They jolted upright, the Australian whimpering at her broken body as she did so; Lucy’s arms quick to find her.

“I’m okay Luce-”

More loud, insistent banging and Narla now yapping. Lucy felt around without her glasses, trying to find her phone. It felt like they’d barely slept – having had dealt with the Mark situation the day before and Lucy attending the Arsenal game with Alexia. Lucy had seen the fatigue wearing YFN down and had ushered the players from the apartment by 9pm.

“Fucking 3am.”

More loud banging. So hard, in fact, that YFN thought the door may break down.

“Luce…”

“I’ve got it, little one. Stay here.”

Lucy’s glasses were on and she was up, stalking for the door and almost ready for a fight. Understandably so – she was protective.

YFN rolled off the bed and hopped her way towards the doorway as she heard Lucy rip the front door open.

“Wha-”

Lucy’s voice cut off as footsteps entered the apartment without a word. YFN watched as Ridley rounded the corner looking the most dishevelled she’d ever seen her. Hair ruffled, and clothes just thrown on without a care. Not at all the well put together Ridley she usually was. Lucy was right behind her looking confused and a little annoyed at the intrusion. “Hey!”

But Ridley only had eyes for thing and as soon as she saw her, YFN inhaled sharply at the redness surrounding her eyes. Alexia.

She stalked forward with purpose and a grieving expression. If YFN didn’t know her as well as she did, she would have thought she were about to beat the hell out of her. But it was Ridley. She dropped to her knees and her face found YFN’s body, her arms wrapping around her legs and hugging her as she sobbed.

YFN’s heart broke into little pieces. She looked over at Lucy whose annoyance had faded, instead replaced with pure empathy. This wasn’t a Ridley she’d seen before.

YFN’s hand found Ridley’s hair and held her close, stroking it.

“Oh, Riddles.”

The strongest woman she knew – broken down into a sobbing mess. She let her work herself down a little before speaking.

“What can I – we do? What do you need?”

Her sobs had faded now. “I need to go, Blue.”

She needed to go. To escape. To move again. She’d said that to Blue every single time she’d moved on to a different place, and every time it was just as heart-breaking. She was going to just abandon Alexia here?

“She deserves more than me. Please make sure she’s happy. Look after her… let me know if she needs anything at all…” her head tilted up to look at her as she repeated herself. “Please. I need to go, Blue.”

It was desperate. Almost asking. She didn’t want to leave her.

“Okay, Riddles. I have Luce to take care of me…”

Her forehead found her abdomen again and nodded. She squeezed a little tighter and then stood, taking her head into her hands and placed a long, loving, lingering kiss onto her forehead. “I love you Blue. So, so much. You know how to reach me. Only you.”

She did. She was the only person who knew how to reach her when she disappeared. YFN nodded and pressed herself into her, not knowing how long it would be until they saw each other again.

“I love you, Riddles.”

“Anything you need… call me.”

“You’re going to leave her like this?” She whispered against her.

“She-”

“-will be lucky to have you. And you, her.”

“You know it’s more complicated than that. I have nothing to offer beyond money and sex. No family. I’ll always be gone. I’ve killed people. I still do. She deserves the world, Blue. I can’t taint that.”

YFN sighed, knowing she’d never be able to convince her otherwise. “Will we… still see you at Christmas?”

A brief pause. “I’m not sure.”

YFN was crying now. She kissed wherever she could reach. “Thank you for saying goodbye. I love you, Riddles.”

“I love you too, Blue.”

They held each other a little longer before Ridley broke it with another kiss to her forehead that came straight from her heart.

“Bye my baby Blue.”

Ridley turned to leave, stopping at Lucy briefly. “You’d better look after her, Bronze. Treat her like a fucking Queen. I’m trusting you.”

Lucy knew her well enough for that, though, and extended her hand for a goodbye with a sympathetic smile. “We're right here when you need us. For anything. Goodbye Ridley.”

And then she was gone for good.

[koisuko]

I love your writing so much!!! Part two of Johnny cage x shy easily flustered reader? It doesn’t have to be a continuation of the first part it could be whatever you’d like

can do! Hope you like ehtttt

TW: nothing crazy, cute shid

The next morning came quickly, for the first time in years, you felt fully rested. You had no nightmares that night, nothing but a blank canvas behind your closed eyes as you nestled comfortably into Johnny's arms. To say you were surprised was an understatement, that Johnny knew you had feelings the whole time, and that he was likely waiting for you to fess up yourself. The fact that everyone knew about it, including him, scared you more than you can comprehend. It's not like you were good at hiding it, although you thought otherwise entirely, not realizing how obvious you really were.

Your eyes flutter open softly, the morning sun filtering through the curtains, providing a soothing backdrop to your waking brain. You felt the urge to stretch fill your stiff muscles, only to be restricted by a gentle squeeze of Johnny's arms around your waist. You jumped slightly, startled by the fact that he was there, holding you close in his bed, until the memories of the previous night filed into your brain picture by picture like a movie. The heat engulfed your body quickly, as he nuzzled his face into the back of your neck, feeling a hum vibrate your back as it pressed against his bare chest.

You were almost surprised that he was this much of a cuddler, his entire body enveloped yours as if afraid you would slip through his fingers like sand. Your nose was filled with his scent, feeling his bare skin against yours sent a shiver running through your spine.

With a bit of a struggle, you managed to untangle yourself from his arms, feeling too overwhelmed by the sudden emotion filling your chest. It nearly felt like removing glue, he held you so close that you thought you would be trapped forever, not that you mind much. The bed creaked as you stood, stretching slightly, eliciting a satisfying pop from your spine.

Standing still for a moment, the warm rays of gold seeping through the curtains blanketed your skin, the smell of breakfast wafting through your senses. You were brought out of your sleepy daze by the sound of Johnny stirring behind you, a soft groan from his chest ringing in your ears like a soothing melody. “Morning, beautiful,” his voice was soft and raspy, another blush creeping up your cheeks at the nickname, “morning.” In contrast to his, your voice was barely above a whisper, nearly cracking under the pressure of his presence. “Did you sleep well?” He asked as he sat up, the ruffling of sheets followed by the sounds of approaching footsteps before you suddenly felt his arms wrap around your waist in a tender embrace. He placed a soft kiss on the crook of your neck, “Y-ya, I did actually,” you managed to croak out, feeling a familiar choke in your throat from the rising nervousness, “h-how-“ you cleared your throat awkwardly, “how about you?” You couldn’t help but feel yourself melt in his arms, pressing your back more against his chest, leaning on him slightly, “I slept great, thanks to you doll.”

Majority of the day was spent training, your eyes never leaving Johnny’s sculpted figure as he honed his skills with the monks. He never failed to shoot you a wink across the courtyard, knowing full well you were watching him, and you swore you would see a sparkle on his teeth when he’d flash you his signature smile. It was only making training more difficult for you, catching yourself checking him out and fumbling as you’d spar.

It came as a surprised when he approached you during dinner, “saved you a seat, honey,” gesturing to the end of the dining table where an open spot was visible. His hand found purchase on the small of your back, guiding you to his chosen seat, “I have a surprise for you later, meet me in the courtyard tonight.” He wiggled his eyebrows in a suggestively teasing way as he spoke, smirking with satisfaction as your face bore a bright red hue.

Later that night, you felt yourself giggle, anticipation bubbling in your chest as he covered your eyes with his hands, “don’t run me into a wall, Johnny,” you joked, reaching your hands out on instinct at the lack of vision, “don’t worry doll, you ready to see your surprise?” You could practically hear the smirk on his face as he lifted his hands from your eyes. You saw nothing out of the ordinary, just the courtyard heavy with the darkness of night, the nocturnal creatures buzzing with life in the background. Before you could question what you were looking for, he walked into your view with a bouquet of flowers in hand, “I thought we could make it official, maybe go on a real date together, how’s that sound?” He held a genuine smile on his face, holding the flowers towards you, gauging your reaction to the gift before you. “J-Johnny I-“ you cursed yourself at how easily flustered he made you, this sweet gesture causing butterflies to flutter frantically in your stomach, “I-I’d love to, thank you.”

You took the bouquet gingerly into your hands, sniffing the scent leaking from the petals with a sigh of enjoyment, “these are beautiful,” Johnny looked at you for a moment with a soft expression, “not as beautiful as you,” he added. You welcomed the warmth that crept through your chest, wearing the blush on your cheeks proud as you smiled at him. You lost yourself in his crystal eyes, the heat on your face peaking in temperature as you watch his face approach your own. He placed a hand on your cheek, gently caressing the skin, providing a cooling contrast to your flustered face. In a swift motion, you felt his lips meet your own, a delicate dance of emotion between you, your heart exploding with excitement and flooding your being with affection. He's kissing you, oh my god, he's kissing you, pulling away with a mouse like squeak, your body shaking with an emotional overload. He chuckled at your reaction, "you're so cute," he cooed, gently caressing your cheek once more.

[loupy-mongoose]

PREVIOUS NEXT

ARC START | CHRONO

(Banished to the long dimension lol)

~~~~~~

The two felines teleported into the mountains northeast of Lavender Town.

Akoya looked around for a moment, before pointing happily. Ah! There! Smiling, Lav followed her mother as she floated over to a crevasse in the cliff wall.

She was startled to find the entry blocked by a green bubble.

As soon as she noticed it, however, it burst.

Sisiiiiiii!!!!

Suddenly she was charged by a tiny, peach-colored pompom.

In her astonishment, Lav did a backwards flip in the air, propelled by the unexpected force. Hahaha ha ha ha ha! Momo! Hey, Lil Sis! She ruffled the little Mew's head, sending them both into a giggling fit.

Sisiii!

Lav looked toward to cave entrance to see Midas crouched there, staying away from the edge but watching her longingly. Persim hovered protectively close, watching his little nephew carefully. Akoya approached the two and scooped Midas up. Lav felt a pang as she realized how big he had gotten. It's a good thing Momo can fly now.

The small collection of Mews gathered into the cave, which was barely big enough to fit their biggest member comfortably.

Before he could say anything, Lav managed to snatch her uncle up in a hug.

Hhgh!?

Sorry, Uncle Perzi. I know you're not really into hugs. But I'm so happy to see you!

I-It's fine! Just this once, for you, Lavvy. His voice was strained as he fought the urge to teleport away.

Soon Lav released him, and noticed Midas looking up at her with big, pleading eyes.

Instead of hugging him, she crouched down and wrapped her tail and arms around him. Hi, Midas. It's good to see you, too!

The little Mew gave her a lick on the cheek, startling Lav and melting her heart. She pulled him into a gentle squeeze, being careful to not overwhelm him.

Beside her, little Rosemary poked her face out of her daddy's pelt. Mee?

Hello, Rosie~! Lav carefully held her finger toward her. The little red Mew dabbed it with her nose before disappearing back into her orange shelter.

Persim flicked his fluff-tipped tail, a concerned frown on his face. Where's Randy?

Akoya settled into a crouch, tucking her arms under he chest. He went for a walk with our unexpected host. Something came up, and he's... having a rough time right now.

Oh...

We thought we'd come check in while he's gone.

We're doing alright. Aren't we, Kiddos?

Momo and Midas stared blankly at him.

...Okay, so the kits have been a bit bored.

Akoya looked at her two Mew children. Midas was contently loafing beside Lav's face, while Momo was pawing a pebble around on the floor.

Her ear flicked thoughtfully. Hmmmm....

What's up, Mom?

Akoya turned to Lav. Maybe we could bring them to Fuji's place?

Persim tilted his head. Fuji? Is that that "host" you mentioned? Is... is it a human?

Lav sat up, earning a protesting Mah! from her brother.

Yes. She ignored Persim's horrified glare. He feels like a good man to me, and we already showed him that we're Mews. So that's one hurdle out of the way.

He takes care of hurt and mistreated Pokemon. So I'm sure he'd have the twins' best interests at heart. He'd love them!

Seeing Perzi's still uncertain face, Akoya went on. I'll talk to Randy about it first, of course. If he doesn't think that's what's best, I'll listen. But I think they'll be safer there than here.

You don't have to come with us, if we do. But I trust Mr. Fuji. I trust we'll all be safe there.

Persim still looked uncertain, but didn't argue. Well, you've met him, and both seem to agree. So who am I to say otherwise? Just... be careful.

We will.

The Mews settled around the cave, just chilling and chatting, or attempting to curb Momo's excitement.

As Lav waggled her finger for the little puffball to to follow and catch, Akoya turned to her.

Lav, has Nico mentioned Mo to you?

Lav thought for a moment, caught off guard by the question. She jolted when Momo bit into her finger. Ouch, gentle mouth, Momo.

Sowwy, Sisi.

Lav smiled and gave Momo an accepting head ruffle before turning to her mom. No, he hasn't. He didn't get to know Mo. He's told me that he remembers seeing his parent Mew float away, and that's all he knows.

Ah. Okay.

Lav didn't say the continuation of her thought; that Nico seemed to feel his parent--Mo-- abandoned him.

She drifted into her own thoughts as Akoya and Persim engaged in their own conversation. Thinking about how her dad was doing. Thinking about how she should go about approaching him.

Thinking about how she should approach Nico.

Lavender?

Lav hopped onto her hands and feet, her eyes wide and pelt standing on end. She scanned the cave wildly.

Lav? You okay, Hon?

The pale Mewtwo shook herself, attempting to flatten her telltale fur. I-I'm fine. Just one of those... falling asleep nightmares, y'know? She turned toward the cave entrance. I'm gonna go get some air.

Lav ignored the doubtful look on her mom's face as she walked out. Once certain that she wasn't followed, she sat down and took a few stabilizing breaths.

When she was calmed down, she carefully reached out, keeping out of her family's mindfields.

Nico?

His response was immediate. Lavender!

Lav smiled. Nico! Jeez, you scared me! It sounded like you were right next to me!

Sorry!

...

You made it to Kanto, didn't you?

Lav struggled to not react to the statement, afraid that one of the Mews would notice.

How did you know?

...

Our connection is stronger...

Lav felt a strange thrill rush through her body.

So you must be closer to me.

Y... You're in Kanto?

Yes...

Lavender took a moment to control her feelings, and the energy they might be giving out.

...We could meet...

We could actually meet. In person.

If...

If my family would be okay with it...

Are they with you?

Yeah... They caught up really quickly... Impressively so, really.

Good.

Lav flicked an ear in annoyance. "Good"?

I'm glad they followed you. I told you from the beginning that coming on your own was risky.

Lav sighed quietly. Yeah, you did. Despite her best efforts, her ears fell back in guilt. And it ended up being for nothing anyway.

What do you mean?

I came alone to keep my family from getting hurt, but my dad's still the one suffering from this...

She stopped to consider how much she should tell him.

I... I don't want to tell you too much right now, okay? I already feel like I betrayed my dad's trust, and I don't want to do it any more. I want to talk some stuff out with him first.

I understand.

You're a sweet girl, Lav. Considering your family's needs.

Be patient, okay? I'm sure we'll meet someday, but I would rather have it be on good terms. With everyone involved.

Lavender smiled. ...Yeah... I agree...

We'll talk later, Nico. I hope we can meet soon...

I hope so too, Lav. Talk to you later.

Akoya floated over to her Mewtwo daughter in the cave entrance. She purred to make herself known, causing Lav to turn her way.

She nuzzled Lav's face before speaking quietly. You were talking to Nico, weren't you?

The 'two's tail flicked. H-How'd you know?

Akoya ignored the words of the question, and decided to focus on the feelings behind them.

You don't need to be shy about connecting with him, Hon. So far we really don't have any reason to say you shouldn't... She thought for a moment. Well, aside from you thinking what you know about him would make your dad more afraid than he already is.

Lavender's ears fell back as the words from her note were spoken to her.

Akoya's face grew serious. ...Lav, tell me the truth. Is there anything your dad and I should be afraid of about Nico?

Lav took a second to form the words. Once she was ready, she looked steadily into her mom's eyes.

As he is now, no. I don't think so.

But as he was...

Akoya raised an eyebrow at the hesitation, urging her to go on.

He was made to be a weapon... and... for a while, he lived it... He killed Pokemon and people...

But he changed. He's not like that anymore. Fuji helped him learn what kindness was, and Jovie helped him practice it.

He regrets what he did in the past.

The blue Mew kept her face even as Lavender spoke to her. Her thoughts tumbled in her mind as the little Mewtwo watched her expectantly.

After a while, Akoya sighed and shook her head lightly. I don't think your dad or I will ever have a clear picture of him until we talk to him ourselves.

All I can do for now is take your word for it, Lav. But if you start keeping vital information from us... We may have to put a stop to you connecting with him.

Lavender gave a solemn nod. I understand, Mom. I promise, I'll bring everything to you guys as soon as I can from now on. And I won't tell Nico anything until I get the okay!

Akoya smiled lightly, though her eyes were still thoughtful. She hovered over and gave Lav a kiss on the forehead.

We don't want to control you, though... We know you're your own person, and can make your own decisions... We just want to make sure you know how to make them safely...

I know, Mom. She gently butted her head against Akoya's with a warm smile of her own. I love you.

I love you too, Lav.

The blue Mew floated back from Lav a little bit.

I'm going to check on your dad. I'll be back soon~

Mom, wait.

She stopped and glanced back.

There's one more thing about Nico, that I just learned...

He's in Kanto.

~~~~~~

PREVIOUS NEXT

ARC START | CHRONO

I never had them talk about it on screen, but Lav did tell Nico that she was planning on coming by herself.

[loveisanimaginarydagger3000]

The Babysitter (4)

Parks And Puppies

Wanda Maximoff X Reader

Summary: In need of money and a way to escape the problems at home, you get a job babysitting two lovely boys named Billy and Tommy Maximoff. What happens when you start to feel things you shouldn't for their mother? Will it bloom into love or leave you heartbroken?

A/N- I would just like to say that there will be some sensitive issues in this story such as alcoholism, homophobia, anxiety as well as more mature content such as smut so, if you continue to read this, please consider this warning.

The Babysitter Master list | General Master List

Chapter 4- W/c 2.3k

Parks And Puppies

A loud ringing noise startles you awake, your hand shooting out of the comfort of your duvet to reach the device, eyes squinting as you see Natasha's name flash on the screen.

"Hey," your voice raspy from just waking up, your hand moving to cover your yawn as you flop back onto the bed, leaving your phone on speaker as you talk to your best friend.

"Hey Y/n, my best, best friend," her tone is too sweet, her words too complimentary making you groan.

"What do you want, Nat?" you grumble, only just looking at the time and realising she's woken you up at nine on a Saturday.

"Who says I want anything?" she answers back, you push your face against your pillow, wishing you could be swallowed up by sleep again and be left to bask in the warmth of your bed.

"It's nine in the morning Nat, tell me what you want now otherwise I'm going back to bed," you can hear her chuckle at your moody and tired tone.

"Well, Yelena is currently out for some school trip that's lasting the weekend and I'm in charge of looking after Fanny," you laugh at the dog's name as always, Natasha groaning at your childishness. "Really Y/n? Every time," you hear her mutter something else in Russian before continuing, "Any chance you would walk her with me? I don't want to go alone and, well, you practically love that dog more than me."

"Are you jealous, Romanov?" you tease, reluctantly sitting up in bed, back cracking in a satisfying way when you stretch a little. "I'll come on one condition; you pick me up to go to the park."

"Deal," she says, "What time do you want me to pick you up?"

"Ten?" you hear her agree to that and a bark in the background, "Tell my favourite resident of the Romanov household I love her, and I'll see her soon."

"Cyka," she mutters before saying goodbye, leaving you to get ready before meeting her.

Around an hour later, you've showered and gotten dressed into a simple outfit, pulling a hoodie on to keep you warm from the slight chill of outside. You check the living room to see your mum still on the sofa, not even bothering to wake her up and tell her you're going out. You do, however, grab a quick snack from the kitchen, only a breakfast bar as you're hoping to persuade Natasha to go with you to get food somewhere else, and start to head outside the apartment block, looking for your best friend and her car.

"Are you ready?" she calls out when you approach her car, confusing her as you walk towards the backseats with a grin on your face.

"Yeah," you answer, not wanting to ignore her and climb into the back where Fanny sits, Natasha rolling her eyes in the rear mirror as you hug the American Akita, ruffling her fur before making contact with Nat's green eyes in the mirror.

"Why don't I get a greeting like this?" she grumbles playfully, unable to hide her smile as you decide to move to sit next to her in the front.

"I can always do that to you," your hand jokingly goes to her hair, face pulling up into disgust and a grimace as you try to ruffle her red locks. "Oh, aren't you a good girl," you put on the voice people do when they talk to their pets, voice slightly higher than normal.

"Go away," she huffs out, fixing her appearance while you sit back into the passenger seat, a giggle escaping you, especially when Fanny decides to try and lick your face from the back of the car.

"You're the one who invited me," you retorted, her shaking her head at your antics before putting the car in reverse and starting the journey towards the park.

***

"Just so you know, as much as I love her, I'm not picking her shit up this time," you make clear, looking over towards your best friend as you see Fanny starting to sniff around a certain patch of grass.

"Fair enough," she mumbles, watching closely as the dog decides to walk away from that area and come back to you two, your hand instinctively scratching her side while her tongue sticks out, hot pants of breath showing in the cold air.

The three of you casually stroll around the park, Fanny wandering off occasionally to play with other dogs and coming back when called, you and Natasha talking about everything and anything. You can't stop the laugh that escapes you when you see a child fall over, Natasha hitting you softly on the back of your head as the child's parents look at you with annoyed looks.

"How on earth are you a babysitter?" she says in disbelief, walking away with you to evade the angry parents for your reaction.

"Oh, come on, that was funny," another chuckle leaves your lips as you replay the small child falling over, the way their face slowly changed from happiness to a confused and sad expression. "And, for your information, I'm great with kids, that's how I'm a babysitter."

"Doesn't seem like it," she mocks, bumping your shoulder to hers in fake annoyance as you continue to walk around.

"Y/n!" you hear voices scream your name, turning around only to feel two bodies crash into your legs, Natasha's arm stopping you from falling over.

"Mini Maximoffs!" your tone playful as you hug the two boys, looking up to see Wanda strolling up towards you with a smile on her face. Your breath hitches slightly, the sight of her making you speechless as she wears a long beige coat with a white shirt underneath, black high waist jeans accentuating her curves and long legs. Her hair frames her face perfectly as you peer up at her, now standing in front of you.

"Hello Y/n, sweetheart," she greets, your cheeks tinting pink that you're definitely blaming on the cold weather, not the older woman.

"Wanda," you manage out, giving her a shy smile while the twins notice the dog running up to you.

"Oh my god!" Tommy exclaims while Fanny sits by Natasha's side, looking up expectantly as she wants a treat. "A puppy!" Both twins move closer to the dog, looking back at their mother for permission who nods her head.

"Can we stroke it?" Billy asks Natasha who hands Fanny a treat.

"Of course, you can," she replies, crouching down and petting the dog herself. "She likes it like this," she shows the boys how to scratch the dog in her favourite way, her fur on her head being messed up slightly by the twins' small fingers.

"What's her name?" Wanda asks you as the twins busy themselves with the dog, you look back at the older woman and ignore the smirk your friend gives you.

"She's called Fanny," you say embarrassedly, Wanda's eyes widening and brows raising at the name. Her laughter makes you smile, the sound something you could listen to forever, her hand raising to cover her smile while you let out your own laugh. "I did not name her by the way, Yelena did," you clarify.

"Is that Yelena?" she asks, motioning to the redhead currently talking to her children, an indecipherable look in her eyes.

"Oh no, that's Natasha, Yelena's sister," you say before calling her name again. "Natasha," she stands up and makes her way over to you two, giving you an insinuating look before moving her gaze to the other woman, "This is Wanda, Wanda this is Natasha." They share a smile before Natasha starts to smirk, making you tempted to clamp your hand over her mouth to prevent whatever was about to come out.

"It's nice to finally meet you," she starts off, "I've heard so much about you." You want the ground to swallow you up, your blush darkening as Wanda looks to you with a teasing smile.

"Oh really?" Natasha hums in response, "I hope it's all been good things."

"Oh, it's all been good Miss Maximoff," she smiles at you while you scowl at your friend, quickly switching to a smile when Wanda looks over you.

"Why don't you show the boys the trick Fanny can do with the tennis ball?" you say to Natasha in a fake sweet voice, noticing how she's enjoying making you suffer. She raises her brow at you in a challenging way, the only reason she gives in is because of the way the boys practically buzz with excitement.

"Sorry about her," you say when the boys run off, Natasha throwing the tennis ball so Fanny can catch it in her mouth, cheers coming from the twins as they chase her playfully.

"There's no need to apologise dear," she chuckles out, walking with you to a nearby bench and sitting down, motioning for you to take the other seat by moving her head. "Billy has a present for you the next time you come over by the way," she says while a smile tugs at her lips at the way your face brightens.

"Really?" your voice shocked, teeth showing as you smile while looking at the boy currently trying to throw the tennis ball further than his brother could.

"Yeah, he's been drawing a lot lately and he said it's thanks to you," her voice is grateful, thankful that you've helped her son find something he enjoys doing.

"Not really," you try to dismiss, "I just told him whatever Vision said to him earlier was wrong." Wanda's face turns to confusion, tearing her gaze away from the twins to look at you, eyes scanning your features briefly before speaking up.

"What did Vision say to him?" there's a little coldness in her tone, you turning to look to your side, her green eyes swirling with curiosity.

"Billy didn't tell you?" She shakes her head, clearly unaware of the false information her husband had been saying, "Vision told him he should like science stuff or sports instead of art, calling it a waste of time." Her jaw clenches and you curse yourself internally for finding the action attractive.

"He really said that?" you nod your head, feeling sympathetic when you see the defeated look take over her. Fingers push her hair back, her auburn locks falling backwards as she lets out a sigh. "He didn't even tell me," her voice is barely a whisper, but you still hear it, "Billy didn't even tell me, his mother."

"Hey," you say softly but she just bites her bottom lip, a worried expression on her face as she ignores your words.

"Am I a bad mother?" you blink in response to her question, eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

"What? No," your quick to answer her, "The twins absolutely adore you Wanda, honestly, all they do when they talk about you is say how amazing you are." You watch her reaction closely, doubt still in her eyes, "It's 'my mom is so good at this' or 'Y/n did you know my mom is so cool when she does this?' all the time." A small smile tugs at her lips as you continue to tell her about how much her children love her. When you finish there's a small period of silence, Wanda letting the information sink in for a minute.

"Thank you," she murmurs, finger playing with her wedding ring, "It's just Vis would say..." Before she can finish her sentence, the boys come sprinting over, Fanny following behind and sitting at your feet.

"Mom, please can we get a dog?" Tommy asks, Natahsa following with a sheepish look.

"Please," Billy adds, both of them hugging the dog while giving their mother puppy eyes.

"I'm sorry Dorogies," she says, your eyes widening at her use of another language, "But your father is allergic to dogs." They both pout and decide to shower Fanny in affection, while Natasha looks at Wanda curiously.

"Are you Russian?" she asks, knowing that dorogies was the masculine version of darlings, you also interested in knowing the answer.

"Sovokian," she answers, you then accidentally speaking without thinking.

"You don't have an accent though?" luckily for you, the question doesn't seem to bother her.

"When I moved to America, I learnt to hide my accent, now I'm just used to it, sometimes it slips out though," she explains, and you wish you could hear her normal voice. You were about to ask another question but Natasha's phone rings, telling you it's Melina and moving away to talk to her mother.

"You don't have to hide your accent with me," you say a little shyly, not wanting to sound weird. Wanda simply smiles softly at you before moving forwards, wrapping you in an embrace that has you melting against her body. Her lips press against your forehead before she pulls back to whisper.

"Thank you Detka," your cheeks flush at the sound of her voice, her accent causing a slight rasp to her words before she pulls away, Natasha returning with a shit eating grin on her face.

"I'm sorry to break this up," you glare at her, "But Melina is inviting you over for lunch Y/n, if we're going, we need to start heading back now."

"Yeah, I can do lunch," you say, trying to think straight and calm your body down from the way Wanda's arms felt wrapped around your waist.

"It was lovely seeing you two," Wanda's words break you from your thoughts, the boys saying goodbye to Fanny.

"Bye Fluffy!" They both hug her one last time, you raise your eyebrow at Natasha while she swiftly hooks the lead on the dog and starts to walk away with you after you say goodbye to Wanda and the twins.

"Fluffy?" your voice teasing while Natasha rolls her eyes at you, groaning at your mocking tone.

"I wasn't going to have them screaming Fanny in a park and I also didn't want them to ask me what a fanny was either," laughter spills from your lips at her answer, her pushing your shoulder to move you away.

"I would have paid to see you try and deal with that," you chuckle out, wrapping your arm around her shoulders and walking back to the car with her, unaware of the set of green eyes watching you laugh and joke with Natasha, a disheartened look in them.

---

I used Google translate for the translations so if anything is wrong, please correct me (:

I hope you enjoyed :)

Please leave any thoughts/comments/votes <3 I really appreciate them!

Ao3- LoveIsAnImaginaryDagger

[gtwscratch]

(No) Hard Feelings

Summary: Scar talks to Grian after a not-so-great session (Secret Life, session 4)

CW: a tad bit of angst, but that's all :)

Word count: 2,227

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Scar shakily held out a bouquet of lilacs and poppies, haphazardly put together with fumbling hands.

“Can we still be friends?” He made eye contact with Grian as he asked, but he was about two seconds away from turning on his heel and running back into the desert to their home.

Grian didn’t say anything for a moment and just stared at Scar. Then at the flowers. And then back to Scar again. It made Scar antsy and nervous, afraid the avian would run away from him. Grian had all the right to run if he really wanted to. Scar figured that he’d leave the second he turned red. While there was still the vow Grian had made to him, Scar knew Grian. Grian was a survivor—not a risk taker. Scar could never bring himself to hurt Grian, but Grian didn’t necessarily know that.

Scar knows the phrase “if you love something, you need to let it go,” and he’s fully prepared to let Grian leave. But, void below, he’d be lying if he said the thought didn’t hurt like hell.

Gentle hands brushing against his own scarred ones jolt him out of his thoughts and back into the present moment. Grian is looking at him with a soft expression as he carefully takes the bouquet from him. 

“Of course we can.. Besides, I’m still in debt to you, aren't I?” There’s a small smirk on the avian’s face, and Scar can tell that he’s trying not to fully smile.

Oh, Scar could cry. Relief washed over him like a tsunami, and he let out a quiet, shaky laugh. “Oh, thank the void.. I honestly didn’t know what I was going to do if you said no.”

“Good thing I didn’t say no then.” Grian is smiling now despite his best efforts not to, and Scar’s heart swells, taking a moment to just stare at the shorter man.

Grian’s purple eyes crinkle softly at the edges, and the light freckles on his cheeks contrast beautifully with his pale skin. The wind gently rustles his hair and feathers, making a few stray strands fall into his eyes. Scar carefully takes one of the flowers out of the bouquet and tucks the loose strands behind one of Grian’s head wings, pinning it in place with the flower. 

He looks absolutely angelic. 

Even though he was down two lives, Scar had never felt luckier than in this moment. How in the void was Grian able to trust him so easily? It makes Scar feel important, and loved, and cared for—so much so that he can’t contain his emotions and quickly picks Grian up, spinning him as he laughs and smiles.

Grian’s feathers ruffle and puff out in alarm. He grabs onto Scar’s arms and shawl for some sense of security “Scar!! Put me down! We’re still so close to the edge!!”

“You’re fine! I’m not gonna drop you!” Scar sets the avian down, pressing his forehead to Grian’s. “I would never.”

Grian smiles softly and rolls his eyes as if he didn’t almost potentially become a yellow name. “I would certainly hope you wouldn’t.”

“You’re too special to hurt—on accident or otherwise.”

The avian trills happily at Scar’s words. “Yeah, you too.” He gently places a hand on Scar’s cheek, and he leans into the touch immediately.

“I’d never hurt you..”

===============================

Scar woke up hugging his pillow to his chest. His immediate reaction was confusion. Where was Grian? He always makes sure Scar wakes up since he was a heavy sleeper, so this is unusual..

Scar sits up, yawning and rubbing his eyes. “Gri? Where’d you go?”

He blinks, startled for a moment when he sees wooden orange walls instead of tan, sandy ones. It’s then that he realizes.

Oh.

Right.

This isn’t the desert.

And Grian isn’t my partner teammate.

He sighs deeply and forces himself to get up and prepare for whatever task the Secret Keeper decides to give him today. 

===============================

Welp, this has been the worst session by far.

Scar’s still out of breath, shaky, and sweaty from everyone chasing him today. It’s not his fault that he did so many bad things—it was the Secret Keeper’s! They’re the one who had assigned the task to him in the first place!

Scar of course apologized to everyone when it was over, and while everyone seemed sympathetic and forgave him, he still felt a lingering wariness aimed towards him. To make matters worse, he had also failed the task at the very end of the session. He might as well have just said ‘screw it’ at the beginning if he'd known it was impossible.

 The only person who hadn’t been angry with him today was Grian.

Maybe he was too obvious with his task, or perhaps Grian was just that good at reading him (Scar hopes it was the latter), but, either way, the avian had managed to figure out Scar’s task incredibly fast. He even showed some pity for Scar and not only let him take that stupid helmet off but also invited Scar to follow him around for a bit.

That was probably the best part of the session.

Now, Scar was alone again. Trudging back to his base slowly as the day turned to night. It was so quiet.

The games were always eerily quiet to him. There were no birds chirping or bugs.. bugs making whatever sounds they’re supposed to make. The silence was so loud it was almost deafening, and Scar hummed quietly to get rid of it. He didn’t realize anyone was around until there was a touch on his shoulder, and Scar flinched back quickly, fumbling for his sword.

Grian’s hands are lifted up in defense. “Woah! Scar, it’s alright! It’s only me.”

Scar’s shoulders sagged with relief. “Oh jeez-! You can’t sneak up on a man like that, G!”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry! You just.. I was headed back to base when I overheard you humming. Thought I’d check up on you,” Grian explains, and Scar could just melt from the concern, even if it was only a little.

Scar only gives a small nod, still getting some of his bearings together.

“So..?” Grian prompts.

“Hm? Oh! I’m okay..! I’m good. Everything’s good,” he responds, trying to put on a smile. He knows Grian doesn’t believe him.

Grian sighs softly, wrapping a hand around Scar’s wrist gently and leading him. Scar follows without complaint or questioning. 

They go to Cleo and Etho’s base, and Scar’s confused for a moment before remembering they invited Grian to join them during this session. He ignores the small ache in his chest that he wasn’t also invited.

Grian brought him inside and to a small room with a bed and a chest with random items scattered around it on the floor. Scar figures this must be Grian’s makeshift room until they can clean it up for him. While he’s looking at the space, Grian sits him down on the bed and takes his hat off.

“You should rest,” he says softly. Scar’s heart flutters at his gentle tone.

“I’m okay,” he tries to insist. Judging by the look on Grian’s face, he doesn’t believe him.

“You just ran around the server this entire session with basically no break,” the avian reasons. He helps Scar take off his shawl. “You’re gonna worry me more.”

Although he’s tired, Scar gives Grian one of his signature smirks. “Aww, you were worried about me?” Despite his smoothness, his heart skips a beat.

Grian worries about him still.

Grian rolls his eyes, but Scar doesn’t miss the light dust of pink that settles on his cheeks. “Yeah, yeah, whatever.”

The two men just stay there for a moment with Scar sitting on Grian’s bed and Grian standing in front of Scar. They don’t speak for a few long moments, and the silence starts to get to Scar again. Despite being content to be around Grian, some bitterness still lingers over the fact that Grian was accepted so quickly into Cleo and Etho’s home, and Scar suddenly feels the urge to talk about it.

“.. So,” he starts, clearing his throat. “.. Cleo and Etho, huh?”

“Yeah.. They said I was free to move in with them since I desperately didn’t want to be alone.” There’s a soft chuckle at the end of his sentence.

That strikes something in Scar, and he can’t stop the slight malice from entering his tone . “What about me?” He pauses for just a moment. He quickly continues when he sees Grian open his mouth to respond. “You said earlier that you were in the market for friends. I-I couldn’t answer you properly because of my task, but you knew that. You knew that I would’ve said yes in a heartbeat. So why did you immediately move on when I couldn’t give you an answer that second?” His throat threatens to close up towards the end of his question, almost choking on the lump in his throat, but he manages to compose himself with a deep breath.

Grian looks a little taken aback by the sudden aggression. “.. S-Scar, I-”

“I thought.. I thought that you wanted me for once,” Scar confesses, running a hand through his hair. “Any time we’ve been paired together, you were unwilling. I know you were, and.. I didn’t say anything because I wanted you there with me so badly… And I know that’s selfish of me, and that you’re your own person, and I can’t just keep you to myself, but I.. I just thought..” He lowers his head with a shaky sigh as tears fill his eyes. He desperately doesn’t want to cry right now. Damn his big stupid emotions.

Several seconds of silence go by before Scar feels a gentle hand slowly lift his head to look back up at him, and he’s surprised to see so much guilt and remorse in the avian’s eyes.

“I am so sorry, Scar.” His voice is so soft and genuine, and Scar wants to forgive him just like that. He holds back from doing so, though.

“Is that all you have to say..?”

Grian opens his mouth again to say something, but he closes it, pressing his lips together in a thin line, and Scar can tell he’s thinking carefully about his words.

“..I’m sorry that I didn’t try to hide my initial discontent when I was with you. I honestly don’t have an excuse. You didn’t deserve to deal with that. You still don’t,” he insisted.

“So you would still team with me? You’d leave Cleo and Etho?”

Scar is met with silence, and that’s all he needs.

“Yeah.. That checks out.” He wants to be angry. He wants to sound angry. He wishes that he could hate Grian for a moment, but he can’t. Even after all this time, he can’t shake how much he cares for the avian, so he just settles for disappointed but not surprised.

“.. I promise you, there is a reason I went back on my offer,” he assures.

“And what would that be?”

“I.. can’t tell you.”

Scar scoffs. “Of course you can’t.”

“.. Look at me, please.” Grian’s voice is so soft, so scared. Scar hesitantly looks up into those beautiful purple eyes. “If I could, I would tell you in a heartbeat why we can’t team this time. If we could, I would leave Cleo and Etho without a second thought to be by your side again.” he pauses, taking in a shaky breath. “.. I miss you. More than you will ever know.. And I know you deserve a better explanation than that, and I’m sorry I can’t give you one.”

Scar studies Grian’s face for a moment. He should be mad at him. He should be shouting at him. It’s not like it’s undeserved, but Scar doesn’t want to, so he doesn’t. Instead, he slowly brings his hands to rest on Grian’s hips, and he gently pulls him forward. He wraps his arms around his waist and looks up at Grian. Deep down, Scar knows that Grian will tell him why in time, and he thinks that’s enough for him.

“.. It’s.. okay. I believe you.”

Grian frowns slightly and sets one hand on Scar’s shoulder while the other carefully cards through Scar’s hair, making him close his eyes at the feeling. “You shouldn’t forgive me that easily.”

“Probably not,” Scar opens his eyes again, “but it’s just so easy when it’s you.”

Grian shakes his head slightly with a roll of his eyes before his gaze softens. “Next time. I promise you that I will choose you without hesitation.”

For a moment, Scar thinks that maybe he’s a bit too naive. Maybe he has too much trust in Grian, but he really can’t help himself. He tucks that promise away into his heart for safekeeping and gives Grian a soft, sad smile. “That would be really nice.” Grian gives him a similar smile.  

They stay like that for a long time, Grian staying in Scar’s embrace. They eventually move to be laying down as it gets later. As Grian drifts into sleep, Scar watches his features relax, admiring how pretty he looked. Void, has he missed this. He gently kisses Grian’s forehead and pulls him a little closer, falling asleep himself with the hope of this being a regular thing in their next life.

===============================

FINALLY!! I'M SORRY IT'S BEEN SO LONG!!! I buckled down and finished the one shot last night, and I am so glad I pushed myself to finish it! I've got some more one shot ideas still, but I can't promise when I'll have them done rip

I can however give you guys a little spoiler and say the next one is Scar and Jellie centric >:3

[thatgirlwithasquid]

Sometimes Werewolves Need Baths Too

4,374 words || also on ao3

Super excited to share this fic and art as my contribution to the @harringrove-relay-race :D

---

The fur on Billy’s back is matted and tangled, clumped up with dirt and forest debris that itches against his skin infuriatingly. Every time he shifts he can feel it tugging at the roots of his fur, pinching his skin with every panting breath that clouds in the cold winter air that has draped over the woods like a smothering icy embrace.

It’s calm, though. 

That’s something that life in the lab had never been, not even for a moment. Only pain, and suffering, and sorrow. Howling calls of every other child locked away and experimented on echoing through every empty room.

Living like this, feral and animalistic in these endless frosted woods, will always be preferable to the sorrow of that man-made hell. The air here, though burning cold in his lungs, is fresh and clear. The water runs free in its rivers and the ground beneath the pads of his feet is soft dirt rather than sickly impersonal tiles.

Freedom, out here, is something he would endure any dirt and coldness to keep. No matter that he’ll only ever be safe as a wolf out here, not a boy. He has made too many careless choices around his freedom before now, something he’ll be sure never to do again.

Hunting is difficult. Living in that damn lab for so long had stolen any wild instincts from him, save for that primal need to claw and bite his way to freedom. They could manage though, him and Eleven. They will.

Next to him, she finally catches up from their run and flops down into the crystalised grass, disturbing the frost there. With any luck, it can clean her coat some; or, at least better than Billy has been managing.

Billy doesn’t think he was made to be a big brother. It’d only been him and his mom against the world when he was younger, at least until his mom ran and his dad handed him over like some oddity to be poked and prodded in the name of science. 

It’s not going to stop him from trying, because Eleven deserves better than this. Hell, she deserves better than him but he’s the best he can offer here.

Leaning down, Billy licks away a spot of dirt from between her ears. It ruffles the fur there and she huffs at him, kicking out a paw to bat at his leg.

Grumbling at her ungratefulness, Billy trots away. 

There was a reason they were running out this way, after all. Hunting is hard, but begging is infeasible… save for one person.

It’s incredibly lucky for them that the Harrington residence backs directly onto the forest where Billy and Eleven have set up their little den and claimed it as their own. Otherwise they’d have never found him, and, especially in those early days, that was all that kept them alive. Without the young Harrington’s generosity, he and Eleven wouldn’t have made it three weeks.

Even after all this time, with nearly a year passing since they broke out, Billy can’t be sure if the Harrington boy knows what they are or just thinks they’re normal wolves. Nearly a year of running, and hiding, and chasing down rabbits to keep them alive and Billy still can’t even tell if the closest thing to a friend they have out here knows that they’re werewolves.

He smelled what Harrington was the first time he came across him, of course. Spending half his childhood shut away with other kids like him and a bunch of humans gave him a good basis for understanding what their kind smells like. It doesn’t matter that Harrington and his dad don’t smell nearly as strong as the werewolves Billy is used to, he can still smell what lingers in their blood.

And, even if he hadn’t, he’d have recognised it the first time the younger Harrington saw him, eyes flashing that familiar amber as he startled. The werewolf in his blood may be weak and distant, but it’s still very much there, and that’s enough for Billy to be certain and Eleven to take a liking to him. 

The crunching of tires on gravel gives them pause, but, after pricking his ears, Billy is sure it’s just the Harringtons’ car pulling out of the driveway. Date night, he thinks. Which means it’s just them and the son.

That’s always preferable; Mrs Harrington had screamed the first time her son told his parents about the wolves he saw prowling out the back of their garden. She wouldn’t be happy to know her son feeds them when hunting comes up sparse, and even if Mr Harrington is indifferent Billy doesn’t think he’s unlikely to take his wife’s side.

The teen likes them, though. 

His face splits into a hesitant smile when he spots them through the glass doors at the back of his home. Billy and Eleven’s eyes glow out like flickering embers from the darkness of the treeline, hiding in the growing shadows of a darkening hour.

Knowing the house will be empty other than their ally, Billy nudges Eleven forward, keeping a careful eye on her as she walks around the edge of the Harringtons’ covered pool. 

The back door slides open and, as they have made their routine, Billy and Eleven hover at the edge of the patio. Harrington, as usual, stays one step from the door. It’s a good truce; enough space for either of them to turn and run.

“Hi,” Harrington greets them, crouching down and tucking his legs under himself to sit and face them. “You haven’t been back for a month.”

Billy chuffs, feeling unfairly chastised, but the effect is minimal with Eleven wagging her tail delightedly. Since they got out, she’s really begun to come out of her shell, especially around Harrington. Billy really wishes she could have friends her age, but in their situation that’s just not safe.

Rolling his eyes at her enthusiasm, Billy settles down on his belly, watching the pair of them from the corner of his eye with a feigned disinterest.

“Are you hungry?”

Billy can almost feel the air shift as Eleven perks up in excitement. Her nose twitches, smelling for any treats he might have hidden away on his person for her.

“Yeah? Great! I’ll get you something. I don’t think there’s much in, but I can… put some chicken tenders in the oven?”

With that, he gets up and lets himself back into his house. It shows a great deal of, frankly, stupid trust in what he perceives to be just some wild wolves that he leaves the door open behind him. Eleven is happy to use that to her benefit, though. 

She scurries around to the other side of Billy, trying to peer into the house through the open door to watch Steve make them some food. It’s endearing, of the both of them; Harrington feeding wild animals food from his freezer and Eleven’s delight in his company and the human food it brings.

Truth be told, Billy is excited too. Until Harrington, Billy hadn’t had any human food since his mother was around. It’s nice, a little reminder of the other side of their nature that they’re unable to indulge in anymore.

He’s not sure Eleven had even had chicken tenders until Harrington. 

The girl beside him, growing impatient, goes to take a step closer to the house. With a nip to her flank, Billy warns her off that idea as quick as she can even act on it. It’s not something Eleven is too pleased with, given the grumbling growl she lets out, but she does listen to him. He’s glad she still listens to that prerequisite of their escape; she always has to do as Billy says, to keep them safe.

Harrington’s face, when Billy looks back over, has appeared in the doorway. It seems he has seen Billy’s warning, because his face is considering and his feet carry him a step further than their usual place. The closer proximity makes Billy growl, a low warning in his throat.

This isn’t how they do this. For both of their safety, they have the unspoken agreement that they never get closer.

For a moment, it seems as if Harrington remembers himself. He glances away anxiously, stilling there. It’s almost enough for Billy to ease his tension, but then the boy’s shoulders set and he takes another deliberate step forward.

This time, Billy’s on his feet like a shot, snarling openly at him. He doesn’t want to have to attack, or run. He likes what they have with Harrington, it’s saved their skins too many times for comfort, but if he has to give it up to keep Eleven safe, he will. He’s all Eleven’s got and he won’t let anything happen to her just because they trusted the wrong person; even those who have been kind to Billy in the past have betrayed him before.

He thinks of his mother’s face, and the absence of her smell from their house. It was so long ago that he almost can’t remember it.

Eleven seems uncertain too, hesitating in moving away but holding her body tense.

“It’s okay,” Harrington soothes. “It’s okay.”

His tone makes some of the tension bleed out of Eleven’s posture, but that alone has Billy’s hackles rising further. She can’t drop her guard, they can’t afford to! For them it’s the difference between life and death. Friends are just something they can’t risk, no matter what she and Harrington want. No matter what Billy might want.

When Harrington takes another step, Billy’s growl grows even louder. One more step and he’ll be signalling Eleven to run. One more step and he’ll fend Harrington off, no matter what he has to do. One more step and—

“Enough,” Harrington huffs, eyes glowing their steady amber now. 

Despite everything, it calms something in him. Amber eyes have meant safety to him, always, no matter what situation they’re in. He wants to pounce when Harrington shuffles another inch closer, but all the fight seems to flow out of him, something in his panicked chest settling.

Harrington stops in arms reach of them, dropping into a crouch in front. Billy remains still as a statue, but Eleven’s tail starts to sway back and forth happily. Harrington’s eyes are still glowing that warm, safe amber and Billy can’t look away. It’s like he’s been hypnotised. Transfixed.

A frown tugs at Harrington’s face as he takes in the state of them, but that doesn’t stop him from offering out a hand for Eleven to sniff. Seemingly content with the offering, Eleven nudges her head against his palm, encouraging him to rake his fingers through her fur.

Even when the texture of it makes Harrington cringe, he obliges. Turning to Billy doesn’t get him met with the same acceptance, though. He’s not prepared to throw away all his caution, not just for some pretty eyes.

“You’re filthy,” he observes, dusting the dried mud off his hands. 

As if remembering the discomfort of the filth caking her fur, Eleven shakes and scratches at her skin.

“Yeah, that doesn’t feel good, does it?”

Harrington glances around, looking for a solution to the problem.

“I could hose you off…?”

Billy growls again. There is no way he’s letting some guy hose him down with icy water, no matter how mucky he gets. He'd rather remain filthy than suffer that humiliation.

“Fine, okay. Whatever.”

Harrington huffs, sitting down on the floor in front of them. Eleven happily trots over to his side, dropping her head onto his lap in a bid to receive more affection. Months in these woods have turned her pretty touch starved, no matter how often Billy curls up with her.

Hesitantly, Billy settles down again, keeping a watchful eye on Harrington with Eleven. Just in case.

When a timer goes off in the kitchen, Harrington jumps to his feet and hurries off to take the food out of the oven. It’s a little while before he gives it over to them, letting it properly cool so as to not upset their stomachs, but every bite is heavenly.

“That’s better,” Harrington coos as they eat, reaching out to pet Billy’s fur, not that Billy allows him to actually do that.

Eleven flops down contentedly, but Harrington still looks thoughtful. If he’s about to suggest the hose again Billy will be happy to rethink his thankfulness.

“I’m going to get in so much trouble for this,” he murmurs under his breath before Harrington addresses them again with a clap of his hands. “Okay! Let’s go get you guys in the tub. You need a bath.”

Eleven doesn’t even hesitate before she’s jumping up to follow Harrington into the house. It’s something that Billy doesn’t even have time to contest before the both of them are slipping through the doorway and into the building. That leaves Billy with no choice but to follow them inside, listening out for anything alarming. Even if Eleven has let down her guard, he won’t.

The Harringtons’ house is huge and immaculate, not a piece of furniture out of place. Of course, that changes when Eleven comes bounding through, leaving a trail of muddy pawprints that has Harrington cringing again. Billy is prepared to jump in and defend Eleven from his frustration… but nothing comes. Harrington simply pats her on the head and continues down the hall with her. 

The bathroom is upstairs and two doors on the left. 

The walls are all pristine teal tiles, the colour matched in all the bathroom furniture. Out of a cupboard, Harrington pulls out a pair of fluffy white towels that has even Billy feeling incredulous. He wants to wash two filthy werewolves… here? With those? In this nice clean bathroom?

Maybe they are safe with Harrington; the guy is clearly an idiot. 

If wolves could make incredulous facial expressions, that’s what Billy would be doing right now. Instead he simply watches on as Harrington runs the taps, testing the water temperature between grabbing different colourful bottles of soap from the shelves. 

Eleven looks ecstatic, hopping from foot to foot at the prospect of finally having a wash after far too long. It’s understandable, even Billy finds himself somewhat excited for her as the water froths with a sweet-smelling bubbly solution. 

The younger lets out a happy yip when Harrington beckens her over and clambers into the tub. She seats herself in the centre, sniffing at the bubbles and sneezing when they inevitably tickle her nose. It makes Harrington laugh as he rolls up the sleeves of his shirt, kneeling on the floor beside the tub.

His hands quickly become covered in the frothy brown evidence of the dirt being washed from Eleven’s fur as he scrubs. It’s not something he minds too much, given the minimal complaining—though he does curse when Eleven shakes and splatters droplets of dissolved mud and murky water his way.

Eleven seems to be enjoying the bath a great deal, even when Harrington removes the plug to drain away the ruined water and reaches for the showerhead to blast away the final stubborn patches of muck. She even leans into a particularly satisfying scratch with a great aura of contentment.

Before long, she’s clean enough for Harrington to deem suitable, and even Billy has to nod his approval at the immaculate state of her coat. It’ll save her a great deal of discomfort in the coming months.

Towelling off has Eleven excited again, darting around the bathroom space to avoid the towel. It’s only a game, though, and she does eventually get dried. If she had wanted to escape the rub down, she could have easily squeezed her way between Billy and the edge of the doorway and dashed away to safety—and Billy would have been right behind her!

In the end, she tires herself out with all the fun and the warmth from the bath water that soothed her cold bones from days in the winter chill. Harrington notices it only a minute or so after Billy, shooting her a fond smile.

The next room he leads them to is, apparently, his bedroom. 

He places a layer of dry towels over the surface and allows Eleven to hop up and get comfortable. With her settled in for a nap, Billy allows himself to be ushered from the room. He won’t divulge her of a comfortable rest, God knows she needs it.

“Okay,” Steve huffs, evidently feeling the energy drain after dealing with an overactive pup. “Now you.”

That makes the fur on Billy’s back stand on end, entire body tensing. Sorry, him? Does Harrington really think Billy is going to let him anywhere near him?

Until now, Billy hasn’t even let Harrington come within six metres of them! And even with this strange truce they have going on, he doesn’t intend to suffer the vulnerability and the indignation of letting this teenager bathe him. Has Harrington forgotten that Billy is the one who has been sending him warning looks and cautionary growls all day?

Another growl rumbles with his distaste at the very thought but, before Billy can dart away, or bite, or anything else, Harrington’s hand clamps around the scruff at the back of his neck. Billy finds himself startled at the sheer audacity! This part-human thinks he can just pick him up and carry him around like an unruly dog? 

He finally snaps back to his senses when Harrington tries to encourage him into the slippery tub. Not that this is something Billy has any intention of allowing to happen on his watch. With a great deal of kicking and growling, head butting back to collide with Harrington’s shoulder with as much force as he can manage, he tries to buck his way free.

It doesn’t work. Barely. Harrington manages to wrestle him into the tub, panting with exhaustion, and jolts into action when Billy tries to jump back out. 

Effectively, he’s been trapped by this idiot. This idiot who invited two wolves into his lovely clean house like lovable stray dogs.

It’s not a good look for Billy. He’s just glad Eleven is asleep and not watching him be outsmarted by this nitwit.

The water around him is indulgently warm as it pours from the tap, filling the tub with it and frothing white bubbles. Given the state of him and what happened during Eleven’s bath he’s sure it’s not going to stay that way for long.

Harrington has lathered up some soap between his hands and is reaching for Billy before he even knows it’s happening. Billy had been so distracted by the indulgence of the water that he hadn’t even noticed Harrington moving. The sudden proximity startles him and, within an instant, he has Harrington’s forearm caught between his teeth.

“Gah!”

They both freeze, caught in the moment. Billy waits for Harrington to hit back as the other just stares at him, but Harrington doesn’t do anything. 

Slowly, Billy releases his hold. There’s no taste of iron or flash of broken skin, but he can see the indents of his teeth on Harrington’s flesh. That’s enough to make him feel guilty.

When Harrington, cautiously, tries again to wash him, Billy just lets it happen. Sure, he grumbles through it, but there’s no more fighting it. Of course, he’d never admit it—because this is still humiliating!—but, to an extent, it’s… nice.

The water is warm and Harrington is gentle, not lingering anywhere that has Billy stiffening nervously. After a few minutes, Harrington seems to settle, losing himself in his task and rambling happily at Billy.

“There we go. No one would have known you had lighter patches before this.”

Billy huffs.

“Yeah, I get it. You’re nearly clean, stop whining.”

Insulted, Billy thumps his sudsy head against Harrington’s side, making the other grumble in annoyance.

“See if I do anything nice for you again.”

The plug is pulled and Billy shakes off the water, reasoning that the bathroom was already trashed by Eleven anyway, and Harrington clearly wouldn’t do anything about it.

“Dude.”

If a wolf could grin, Billy would be.

Harrington dries him off with another towel and, wow. Billy hasn’t felt this human in years; clean and free and in a normal, if posh, house… It almost makes him homesick, but otherwise it just feels nice.

“There we go…” Harrington soothes, and Billy actually settles.

It makes him nervous, somewhere in the back of his mind. Billy has had his guard raised non stop since… Fuck, probably since his mom left. And now, after the better part of a year being spent cold and alone, on high alert as if the people from Hawkins lab would just jump out of the shadows and drag them away to that place again, he’s just tired.

He’s so fucking tired, and Harrington’s house is warm, and he’s clean, and the guy feeds them, and for once Billy just wants to stop. He doesn’t want to look over his shoulder, worrying about when their next meal will be and getting piss poor sleep. 

Fingers brush hesitantly through the fur on his back, and Billy lets it. Only for a moment but, god, is it nice. He knew Eleven was lonely but… he hadn’t realised how alone he’d felt. He thought he’d gotten used to it, but maybe he never had. Maybe that was just a comfortable lie.

He refuses to leave Harrington alone to do god only knows what behind their backs, though. He may be relaxed and lethargic, but he’s still a safe amount of paranoid. Eleven can rest up, but Billy only pointedly glares at Harrington when he tries to coax Billy to have a nap with her.

In the end, they settle in the Harringtons’ living room after Billy watches Harrington painstakingly scrub down the bathroom and the muddy trails he and Eleven made on their way in. Honestly, watching paint dry would have been just as interesting, but Billy, strangely, liked the company, muttered cursing included. 

The Harringtons’ sofa is comfortable, almost too much so. As the young Harrington settled down with a book, Billy sat beside him. He felt a little weird about it—Neil had never let him or his mother on any of the furniture if they were shifted, and that is really the only example of home life Billy had ever had—but Harrington had been the one to invite him up onto the cushions so he just went with it.

It’s proving more and more difficult to stay awake, now. Warm and clean and full, resting on a comfortable sofa, Billy finds himself reluctantly laying down and fighting his eyes as they drift closed again and again. Each blink seems to last a century, becoming harder and harder to fight back open.

At least, until he finds himself waking with a start at the sound of the doorbell. 

With a groan, Harrington pushes himself to his feet, moving to answer it. All of Billy’s fears come rushing back. 

It could be anyone out there! He should never have let his guard down. What if Hawkins Lab had finally caught up to them? What if someone had seen Billy and Eleven sneaking around? What if Mr and Mrs Harrington have come back? 

No matter what, any situation seems to spell doom for them, but Harrington is just up and walking over to the door like it’s nothing. What if it’s him? What if he took advantage of the time Billy fell asleep for? Maybe this has all been some sick ploy to sell them out.

Billy jumps up, darting over to stand in his way, a wary growl rumbling from his throat.

“It’s fine,” Harrington dismisses, walking past without a care.

Billy should fight him, do whatever it takes to stop him from opening the door. He should buy him and Eleven a little bit of time to run. But he just doesn’t have it in him. After everything, the idea of causing Harrington any more grief has his stomach churning in despair. 

But he has to do something.

His hand clamps around Harrington’s wrist, holding him in place as he startles at the sudden contact. He turns around in a panic to face Billy, eyes darting downwards before resolutely focusing on his face, cheeks burning.

Billy, though, pays no mind to his state of undress. It doesn’t matter that this is the most vulnerable he’s been in years. He needs to get Harrington to listen, he wants to be able to trust him. It’s been so long since Billy has had a good thing.

Harrington is a good thing. He just wants to keep it, this one indulgence.

“Don’t. Please.”

The word hurts coming out. Pleading has never gotten Billy anything good, any sympathy.

“Holy shit!” Harrington shouts, stumbling a step backwards. “No way. No fucking way.”

“Please,” Billy repeats.

“I didn’t think— I mean some part of me— …shit, dude.”

“Please. Don’t.”

Harrington regains his breath, not even seeming to notice as the doorbell rings once, twice more. It’s followed by pounding and some kid yelling. Neither of them move, eyes locked seriously on each others’. Harrington flexes his hand, making the flesh in Billy’s grasp shift. 

Billy’s eyes flash, it’s instinctive. Harrington feels like home, has done since the first time they came across each other, even if Billy didn’t let himself acknowledge it. Harrington’s shine their own unique shade of amber in return. They’re beautiful.

“It’s fine,” Harrington whispers to him. “It’s just the kids I babysit. My ex’s brother and his friends.”

His eyes dart towards the staircase.

“Is… is the other one like you?”

“Her name is Eleven, and yes. Don’t… I can’t let you do anything to put her in danger.”

“I won’t, I swear. Seriously.”

Billy nods, satisfied.

“But I have to let these guys in or they’ll break down the door.”

At that moment, someone presses down on the doorbell and doesn’t let up. It constantly chimes through the house, echoing through the empty halls.

“Fine.”

Billy lets go and Harrington takes a step away before hesitating.

“What’s your name?”

“Billy. What’s yours?”

“Steve.”

---

Next up in the race is the lovely @intothedysphoria so hang around to see what he's put together for us <3

[bepisbee]

cute cat down short!

Vio turned the page, not reading it for the millionth time but he had to keep up the appearance. Shadow was sitting in the living room, watching them all interact. He had come a long way since his return. Shadow was still learning about relationships and affection however. THeir different way to show happiness, platonic and otherwise. He sat with paws tucked under his fat fluffy cat body. When he wanted to observe without being noticed, he did that. Most of the time one of them noticed his inky abyss cat form but no one said anything. Vio was very close to picking him up and dpositing his cute cat ass into his lap for pets. He hadn’t told the others he liked that though. He found it out on accident one day.

He was overthinking when Shadow had come up to him in their room, as a cat, and just sat there blinking at him owlishly. There was obviously something wrong with his Vio, lost in his head again. He had reached out and rubbed his ears, and scritched under his chin out of sheer subconscious knowledge of cats. Shadow melted instantly and purred so loud it pulled VIo out of his stupor. Shadow froze and then an when they made eye contact. Neither of them talked about it, but Shadow would occasionally let him pet his cat from If they were alone.

Red was writing down recipes in a small book at the coffee table, sitting on the floor, back against the couch. He was humming happily and quietly, not enought to annoy, but enough that if Vio were actually reading he would have said something. The sly look Red one in a while glanced at him with, told he knew. Shadow was on top of a bookshelf, watching the two of them. He knew something was up, but not exactly what. Green and Red could be heard if he tried hard enough, perking his ears in the direction of the open window. They were supposed to be sparing, but got distracted and ended up just hanging out in the grass.

The black cat stretched, catching Vio’s glance. He could use a nice sun nap, but there was also the fact Vio was clearly fake reading. He was much faster than that and never looked around him when he got into a book. He padded over to Vio and sat before him, undecided. Vio moved his book to the side and raised an eyebrow at him.

“What’s up?” he asked softly, holding out his hand. “Bored already?” Shadow placed his little cat head into his open palm. Red was openly staring in surprise. Vio gave him time to back out, and when he didn't, he rubbed his little cat head. The shiny ruby eyes shut in satisfaction as he got attention. Red gushed immediately and ran over to join, but the second he did Shadow jumped, startled, and ran.

“Aww man.” he pouted. “I’m sorry Shadow! I should’ve asked! please come back!!” The abyss stared at him, eyes glowing under the couch.

“....” he looked to the side, embarrassed.

“It’s alright, love.” Vio offered his hand again. “It’s just like when Green ruffles our hair. It isn’t weird, I promise.” His tone was so soft it surprised even Red.  Shadow slowly scoot out and sat in front of them. HIs ears a little back but tail still. Vio ran a finger from his nose up across his forehead and Shadow purred lightly. He gave in right away, of course. Red cooed and reached out.

“Can I too?” he asked this time, Shadow looked at him intently before huffing and turning away, eyes shut. Red looked over at Vio to translate and he nodded. He gave him very gentle pets. Shadow wasn’t expecting such soft affection and from both of them doing it, he melted into Vio’s lap. His audible purrs was the best response they could have hoped for.

Vio smiled at him, his cute little monster. Shadow peeked an eye open at him as if to say “I heard that.” Red let them be and went back to the cookbook, Vio opting to stay in that spot and continue giving Shadow the attention he deserved. Shadow fell asleep on his lap within minutes. Love warmed his chest from the weight of his form in his lap.

As soon as the door opened, however, the shot up and booked it upstairs loudly.

“??” Blue looked between them and the stairs he had disappeared up. “What’d we miss?”

[wholesome-lee-trash]

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Word Count: 568

Characters: lee!Alastor, ler!Charlie, ler!Nifty

Ships: Charlie x Alastor (not written with this ship in mind) or none

Warnings: Tickles, otherwise none. Tell me if I need to add something!

A/N: apology fic for not writing a lot lately. I'm very busy. Also yes, whole new fandom. Also, I am not a master of titles.

Sleeping At The Table

"What are you still doing up?" Nifty asks. Alastor's ears perked at the sound.

"Why, I may ask the same to you, my dear." Alastor responded.

"I wasn't sleepy. What about you?"

"I need to finish up here."

"And then you'll go to sleep?"

"Yes, Nifty."

Nifty went around the hotel, dusting everywhere she could, before noticing Alastor's head dropping at the table. She walked over to him, sure to remain quiet. She heard his quiet breathing, wondering if he was asleep.

"Are you asleep?"

"No... 'm just..." His pen dropped from his hand, so Nifty zipped away to get a blanket. She came back and draped the blanket over him, and then turned off the light.

In the morning, Charlie woke up first, and saw Alastor asleep at the table. After taking a quick picture, she shook his shoulder lightly.

"Al? How long have you been like this?"

"He slept there all night!" Nifty says helpfully, climbing up on the table. "He said he needed to finish something, and then he'd go to bed."

"Well, now he needs to wake up." Charlie shakes his shoulder again, still getting no reaction out of him.

"No, no. You're doing it all wrong! Not to be rude. You have to wake him up like this!" Nifty scratches behind his ears, causing a startled yelp, and he shot up, giggling.

After rubbing his eyes, and taking a few moments to register his surroundings, he took a breath, calming himself.

"What was that?" Charlie asked curiously. Alastor cleared his throat and grabbed the pen that fell out of his hand the night before.

"Don't worry yourself with it, my dear!"

"No, why'd you make that noise?" Alastor glared at Nifty, but she giggled. She saw the nervousness behind his eyes.

"What noise, my dear?"

"You laughed."

"Hm... no, no I don't think I di-ID!" He jumps at a poke to his side, courtesy of a smiling Charlie.

"Oh my gosh."

"Charlie, my dear, you know, this is not necessary."

"Alastor, you're ticklish?" She asks in awe. A nervous chuckle slips out of Alastor.

"Charlie-" He was cut off by fingers on his ribs, tickling him. His smile went wobbly, and a laugh came out of him. A nice laugh. It sounded genuine, like a child's almost. As the tickling continued, Charlie noticed that the microphone quality was getting worse and worse.

"Awe! This is so adorable! I didn't know you were ticklish!"

"Ihihi'm nohohot!"

"Al." Charlie giggled, watching as he tried to move her hands away from him. He turned towards her, which he obviously didn't realize made it much easier to tickle him.

"Stohohop!" Alastor demanded, though his tone was diminished with his laughter.

"It's just a few tickles! Can the big and powerful Radio Demon not handle it?"

Radio static.

Alastor laughed so hard that he went static. Charlie stopped, taking her hands away.

"Is that what happens when you laugh too hard? Like, with your real laugh?"

"Stop."

Okay, there was no way that Alastor was blushing right now. Charlie had to be imagining that.

"Stop looking at me like that."

"Like what?"

"Like that." Charlie giggled and ruffled his hair, making his ears flick, and Alastor to make a strange squeaking sound. "Don't touch me."

"I hope you know that no demon that is ticklish can be an evil, bad guy overlord in my book."

"Oh, shut up."

[nova--spark]

Alright I’m back from work and have recharged my battery! Time for more headcannons!!!!

Cuddling! Now that the bots are human they can hug the Jasper trio without fear of crushing them!

Optimus Prime: Op is more reserved when it comes to touch. It’s not that he doesn’t like it he just doesn’t want to make anyone uncomfortable. Not to mention back when he was Cybertronian he was the largest, so he was afraid of hurting someone. He’ll almost always asked before hugging someone and make sure he’s in their direct eyesight before touching them so he doesn’t startle them. Optimus gives the best hugs though 9/10 you usually have to ask for them. Elita, Bumblebee, Smokescreen and the Jasper Trio are the most common recipients. Arcee and Ratchet sometimes receive them but their much more prideful when it comes to that sorta thing

Elita-One: Elita’s love language is physical touch. Prove me wrong. You’ll always find her holding hands with Optimus, though she’ll keep more intimate stuff like cuddling or kissing private, mostly for Optimus’s sake. Op already blushes like crazy when Elita holds his hand, if she kissed him in front of the other he would die on the spot. She’s also the most likely to initiate a family cuddle session with Her, Op, Bee, and Smoke (and sometimes the Jasper Trio will join in). She’ll also give little forehead kisses to her children

BumbleBee: Takes after his mom in that he adores physical touch. He’s always willing to give a hug, even when not necessarily asked to. Which back when he was Cybertronian embarrassed Team Bee to no living end. He also likes to ruffle Raf’s hair something he protests to since I can imagine it takes him awhile to style it like that.

Smokescreen: He is so awkward when it comes to physical touch. He wants it but he’s been so long without it he doesn’t know how to process it now that he has a family willing to hold him. Touch starved boi. He gets super embarrassed when Elita or Bee hug him. And when Elita wants family cuddles he’ll usually just sit next to them awkwardly until someone pulls him into the pile.

Ratchet: Not a fan of physical touch but not completely unwilling to give it out. It just has to be on his terms. He doesn’t like being hugged out of nowhere, you need to ask him first and most likely prepare for the answer to be No unless he’s in a really good mood (or your Optimus). If he initiates it usually it’ll just be a comforting hand on the shoulder or knee. It’s hard to get a hug out of Ratchet. The last time anybody saw Ratchet hug someone was when Bee lost his voice box.

Bulkhead: Two word. Bear. Hug. If Bulk is gonna give you a hug he’s gonna go all out. He will pick you up, and if he’s particularly happy he’ll swing/spin you around. The only person who can match him in hugging strength is Miko. He has a little more restraint than someone like Wheeljack so he won’t hug someone like Ratchet or Ultra Magnus if they are truly against it. But otherwise no one is safe from a Bulkhead bear hug. It could happen anytime. anywhere.

Wheeljack: Wheeljack is similar to Bulkhead but with slightly less respect for boundaries. Don’t get me wrong, if you really don’t want to be touched he’ll respect that, he’s not that kind of asshole. But he won’t really ask for permission to touch someone which has occasionally led to him getting yelled at by Ratchet, Ultra Magnus, or Arcee for hugging them when they weren’t in the mood for that. He’s much more playful when it comes to touch, he’ll pick up the kids, hurl them over his shoulder, swing them around. And they have a blast. With the autobots he’ll give them a hardy slap on the back which will send most of them stumbling forward. He’s also been known to smack Bulkhead’s ass. Bulk is the only one he does that to and Bulk doesn’t care

Arcee: Arcee is much more wary about touch. She was always the smallest in a group of much larger mechs. They’re all good mechs but some of them don’t know their own strength (*cough**cough*Bulkhead*cough**cough*). It’s much easier for her to get hurt. So if you don’t want to get punched in the nose you will approach Arcee from the front, make sure she knows you’re there, and ask her first if she would like a hug. If you’re in public expect the answer to be no unless you have really good puppy dog eyes like Bee. If you two are in private she’ll usually say yes but if you tell anyone she’ll hunt you down and skin you alive. Arcee likes physical touch but she has to protect herself and her reputation first and foremost. Also Miko snapped a picture of her and Jack asleep with Jack resting his head on Arcee’s shoulder. Though Miko does have some self preservation so she’ll probably take that picture to her grave

Ultra Magnus: No Touching. Nope. Don’t try it. You will get lectured, by multiple people. The most you could ever hope for is a hand on the shoulder. Otherwise… No. Touching.

I already said it on Discord but WHEELJACK PLEASE--

I love this.

Cherri you are too good to me I swear

[icaruskeyartist]

@pillowspace So... this isn't the time loop au but I thought you might enjoy something a little different considering I'm going to be spending my next few ficlets doubling down on the whump. I really really like dangerous Moon and exploring the cruelty of turning a daycare attendant into an assistant murderer.

So to counterbalance that I'm gonna write a little bit of clone au, and am tagging you in it for the love and maintenance of caring for your resident DCA. If you don't want to be tagged or see the other parts it's okay to let me know!

____

When you applied, it'd been for a laugh. You'd never expected to be standing outside a large plexi and metal cylinder, watching as a seven foot (eight foot? You've never been particularly good at guessing sizes) jester animatronic be tested by a diagnostic robot.

Honestly, you have no idea what you're doing, really.

The computer in front of you dings, and you glance at it. Everything had gone green except for a part in the animatronic's chest. You squint and check your notes on what to do before opening the service chamber.

"Hello! How does everything look doc?" The animatronics' personalities aren't shut down during maintenance, a fact that had startled you the first time you'd been tasked to touch up the paint on the wolf's nails. Roxy? She wasn't one of the originals, so you found it harder to remember her name.

This one is new too. A sun themed jester for the daycare with flexible rays that softly flutter as it watches you pick up a wrench. It doesn't have pupils, possibly so the children don't know where it's looking and discourage misbehaviour. You're not sure how it wouldn't be off-putting.

Then again, this animatronic was designed by the same company who hired a biologist in place of a mechanic, so maybe you shouldn't be so surprised. Fazbear seems like a company that failed upwards despite shooting itself in both feet and eyes.

Ha, your sense of humor is coming back. Your therapist will be pleased.

You stand in front of the animatronic now, tapping the wrench lightly against its front panel. "Oh, are you hoping for a surprise? Sorry, but we don't have a cake hatch like the glamrocks." It does help with unlatching it's hatch, pulling the ruffle around its neck up, the sun rays retracting as you feel for the indentations along the smooth ridge of metal. It had to be hidden and baby proofed since it was a daycare attendant.

The hatch swings open and the smell of burning plastic is accompanied by an outpouring of glitter, falling over your hands and apron, the operating table and onto your shoes and the grubby floor below. You stare at the rainbow of color before looking up at the animatronic blankly.

It has released its ruffle and waves its hands apologetically. "I am so sorry. Of course I'll help clean it up but ---" Your blank stare comes across as unnerving for most people, but you're surprised when it seems to affect the animatronic as well. "A little one decided they wanted to make me pretty since it's been awhile since I've had the chance to clean up. I must've forgotten all about it with how busy I've been. How bad is it inside?" It tries to peer inside, but the rays get in the way.

You look too, covering your mouth and nose with one hand. It's not too bad, you guess. Most of the glitter has melted around the hottest moving parts, and the fan was clogged, making it all the worse. You snap a picture before showing it to the animatronic. It wasn't. A conscious thing to do. Later, you would reason it out as a way to document your work. There was no way the higher ups would like you tinkering so much otherwise.

"Oh! Well, that is bad I suppose. Thank you for showing me." The animatronic watches you curiously as you set down your wrench, going back to the table in search of something. "I've not caught your name friend. I'm Sun! Or Sunny to friends. I'd like to think we're friends, since you're going inside me."

There's a moment of hesitation, and you take the time to test the can you've found. It hisses sluggishly, making you frown. You can feel the animatronic's eyes on you. Sun, Sunny. Your hand twitches involuntarily, and you drop the can.

"Oh!" You hear Sunny move, and turn in time to see him taking one long stride to bend and fetch the can. It holds the hatch still, keeping it from smacking into your arm. "Here you go. I saw you don't like bending down so..."

You're face to plate with it now, and you can hear the mechanics in its head clicking and whirring softly. You can't shake the feeling that it's looking past your skin and inside you, all the way down into your marrow. You shiver and push it back, rubbing your arms and looking to the side. Ignoring its apologies as it returns to the table, still holding the can of air.

You find a new can and test it as well. It hisses sharply, blowing specks of glitter off your sleeve. When you return to the table, you hold out your phone again. Typed out on it is your name.

Delicate long fingers wrap around yours so the animatronic can read the small text. They're warm and smooth and it surprises you how softly it holds you. "Ah, that is a lovely name. It's like sunshine."

When it lets go, you can't help the heat creeping up your neck from the compliment. Or, more rightly so, the very genuine sounding warmth that came from Sunny's voice. How could that be programmed in?