#while my heart was like visibly pounding out of my chest and u could probably see on my face i was internally thinking girl shut UP!!! LEAVE

[ayyponine]

girl help im going back n forth on whether or not i should send an email to thank the beautiful man fr letting me join the drawing session last week (more info on that entire situation here and here) and letting him know i probably wont be back but appreciate having had the experience either way. great or horrible idea leave a comment or DM to lmk.

[antoncyng]

౨ৎ. not the same. — c.yj

synopsis - waking up a week after you and yeonjun’s breakup, only to remember it was supposed to be your anniversary today.

warnings - angst with no happy ending ;(, yeonjun cheated, gn!reader, mentions of alcohol and being drunk, cursing, not proofread | wc : ??

notes - do not read if u get sad easily…

head pounding headache, heavy heart and chest, blurry eyes and a dried face was all you could feel right now. ever since you and yeonjun broke up only a week ago, your routine has been much different.

no motivation to go out, the feeling of your phone vibrating with notifications from your friends trying to get you to go out, occasionally some from yeonjun still attempting to apologize for his actions.

LAST WEEK

it was your bestfriend, yuna’s birthday party. she was a huge party person, so it was basically a whole frat/house party just celebrating her birthday. a dj blasting music, self serve bar with lots of alcohol, and food.

you came with yeonjun, but were soon separated after he told you he would just get another drink and maybe say hi to some friends who he passed by while walking with you. you trusted yeonjun with your whole heart, of course, how couldn’t you after dating for almost 2 years?

the minute yeonjun left you alone with your friends, something in your gut was telling you something bad would happen, but you couldn’t get yourself to believe it.

that was until about 10 minutes later, you told your group of girls you would be back to find yeonjun, leaving to the kitchen and searching for him everywhere, even asking his friends you never talked to. you soon spotted a familiar head in the corner of the dining room, that was also filled with many people.

you didn’t want to believe it, you wanted to rub your eyes and make the sight you were seeing blur away, you wanted to cover your ears from the music and shut your eyes just to tell yourself it wasn’t true, but it was. you stood there for a good 3 minutes, tears well falling out of your eyes and down your face already, your shaky hand making its way to cover your mouth that was wide open.

“y-yeonjun..?” you called out as loud as you could, watching the boy turn around after separating his lips from the girl he was cornering, face turning red as soon as he saw your crying figure, you could tell he was horribly drunk but definitely sobered up in some way from the sight of you. “what are you.. doing..?” was the last thing you could murmur out before breaking into tears and turning around, pushing past people to make your way to the front door.

you heard yeonjun shouting your name and telling you to stop and turn around, his voice desperate and almost sweetly convincing. but it was shut out by your mind, your eyes were blurry as tears flowed down your face, everything that entered your ears sounded drowned out, all you could think of was how you needed to get home and just rot in bed.

“y/n, please talk to me! it’s not what it looked like!” he finally said as he got to you, holding your wrist to get you to turn around and face him. after yanking your wrist from his hand, you could see the visible hurt on his face, forcing everything in you to stop yourself from pulling him into your embrace and apologize for “overreacting”.

“don’t start with that bullshit yeonjun! what do you mean its not what it looks like? you wanna sit here and lie to my fucking face and say you weren’t full on making out with that girl? who knows what would even happen if i didn’t catch you, you probably would’ve took her upstairs and fucked her for all i know!” you shouted at him, watching the waterline of his eyes fill with tears of guilt, knowing he messed up bad. you knew yeonjun, and the look he had on his face looked like he just wanted to crouch down and rip all his hair out from guilt, all you could think of is hugging him tightly as if he just had a bad day, but you knew you had to end it here. “you know yeonjun, if you wanna do this shit at parties like you did before we met, you can now. we’re done.” you stated, trying to sound as stern as you could, only to break down after taking a few steps away from the boy.

after walking away, you heard yeonjun break down into tears and sob while watching you walk away, but you knee you had to fight yourself from running back to him and taking him in your arms.

AND HERE WE ARE NOW …

you finally decided to pick up your phone, looking at the time and date, tears welling up once again after seeing it was you and yeonjun’s second anniversary, but it broke you knowing you weren’t together anymore to spend this special day.

unlocking yourself and checking your notifications just broke you more, seeing the messages yeonjun left you after the break up.

my jun ♡

APR 7TH . 8:39 PM

my jun ♡ : hey yn, can we please talk?

my jun ♡ : i know i fucked up

my jun ♡ : just please let me know you’re okay

APR 9TH . 11:46 AM

my jun ♡ : i know you probably don’t wanna see my messages

my jun ♡ : but i can’t stop thinking about you

my jun ♡ : it’s not the same waking up without you

my jun ♡ : i hope you know you’ll always be the one i love with my whole heart

my jun ♡ : i’m so sorry y/n

APR 9TH . 5:34 PM

my jun ♡ : hi y/n, i hope you’ve eaten today

my jun ♡ : i know you have a hard time eating after your classes

my jun ♡ : i’m sorry i can’t be that reminder for you anymore

APR 10TH . 4:26 AM

my jun ♡ : i miss you so much

my jun ♡ : i would do anything to go back and never leave your side at that party again

my jun ♡ : i would do anything to have another chance

my jun ♡ : fuck i’m probably bothering your sleep

my jun ♡ : i’m sorry, i’ll always be sorry. sleep well y/n, 🤍

APR 11TH . 6:38 PM

my jun ♡ : you haven’t been active on any of your social medias

my jun ♡ : are you okay?

my jun ♡ : well i know you aren’t okay

my jun ♡ : i didn’t mean it like that i know you could be okay of course

my jun ♡ : fuck i’m sorry

APR 12TH . 2:17 PM

my jun ♡ : hi y/n

my jun ♡ : i feel a little stalkerish continuing to text you even when you don’t reply, kinda funny isn’t it?

my jun ♡ : what am i kidding, nothings funny to me anymore

my jun ♡ : i can’t even bring myself to talk to anyone anymore

my jun ♡ : i hope you’re doing okay, and not crying anymore

my jun ♡ : you know i hate seeing you cry

my jun ♡ : even tho you look gorgeous when you cry

my jun ♡ : i love you y/n

APR 13TH . 1:07 AM

my jun ♡ : i hope you remember what day it is

my jun ♡ : because i sure do

my jun ♡ : here i am, sitting in my bed alone

my jun ♡ : our song playing on repeat

my jun ♡ : i would do everything and anything just for you to forgive me

my jun ♡ : even just a hug would get me to smile again

my jun ♡ : happy anniversary, i love you forever y/n, even if it’s not the same anymore.

authors note - thank you for reading! i’ve always been bad with angst so this might be total booty cheeks but.. oh well its worth a shot ^-^

PLEASE DO NOT STEAL NOR REPOST !

[thisismeracing]

PLEASE write a fic/blurb about how to mentioned the idea of staying up for mick to get home after his long night in the sim and just cuddling and comforting him and listening to him rant 🙏🏾

I love it when you guys read my tags and bring something out of them hahahah ❤️ I adjusted the idea a bit, hope u like it!

Based on my reaction to the sim work video (here)

word count: 0.6k

pairing: mick schumacher x reader (she/her pronouns)

warnings: tooth-rotting fluff, not proofread, mentions of food, and lack of sleep.

It was past two AM when Mick got home after the whole day at the Merc factory doing sim work with the team. He was tired, although he had a can or two of an energy drink, almost giving up and adding a cup of coffee to the list by the end of the night.

The apartment was silent when he unlocked the door, most of the lights were switched off, except for a small lamp between the living room exit and the kitchen entrance, the flickering light illuminating the corridor that took him to the bedroom. Yn would always leave a light or two for him, and it warmed his heart, it felt like her saying she thought of him before going to bed, that she knew he would come home to her before the sun was up in the sky.

Mick made his way to the bedroom, stopping by the threshold. Right in the middle of the bed, Yn was sound asleep cuddling one of his pillows, her hair in a satin bonnet to protect the braids she got recently, her phone still between her fingers probably waiting for a message or call from him.

He smiled.

Nothing would ever beat coming home to her.

He was exhausted, his head pounding and his body full of knots, but seeing her there, just taking a look at her, was enough to lift half of the weight of the world from his shoulders.

Mick made quick work of taking off his clothes and climbing into bed beside her. Yn stirred when the mattress dipped and she felt the familiar warmth engulf her body. In her hazy sleepy state, eyes still closed, she extended her arms looking for any limb she could grab and hug. Her boyfriend chuckled lightly and positioned half of her on top of him, her hands quickly finding his torso and shoulders.

"What time do you leave?" she mumbled, pecking his chest.

Mick sighed, drawing patterns on her dark skin.

"In a couple hours."

"Wake me up when you do, we are still supposed to have breakfast together," she reminded the German and he kissed her forehead before weariness knocked them out.

It was just three hours later when Mick woke up. He tried his best to leave the bed without waking Yn, but the second his body shifted to move her, she opened her eyes.

"We can have breakfast tomorrow, Liebe, it's not a problem," he whispered, easing her back into bed, but Yn sat up rubbings the sleep out of her eyes.

"I can go back to sleep once you leave, let's enjoy our hour together, mkey?"

He smiled, and although the morning was a bit cold, his body and heart felt warmer than ever.

Yn helped Mick check all his documents and small stuff he tended to forget at home, and they cooked a quick breakfast together, all while he ranted about last night's sim work and how excited he was for the race later today. Yn listened attentively, eyes never leaving him. Every once in a while she would drop a comment or hmm in agreement, but Mick did most of the talking and she took the time to enjoy the gleam in his eyes while talking about what he loved, his relaxed posture though his body was visibly tired.

She loved to be on the receiving end of that passionate talk, especially when breakfast was finished and they sat in the living room to eat and cuddle.

When it was time Mick left for the airport and promised to text her as soon as he landed. She knew he would because he always did. And just like that she went to sleep with the lights on again, knowing that in the morning he would be back home to her.

taglist: @sachaa-ff @ferrariloverr @mellowpizzapuppy @kenanlotus0 @mickslover @dalsuwaha @formulakay3 @mishaandthebrits @iloveyou3000morgan @crimeshowjunkie @chaoticevilbakugo @carojasmin2204 @wondergirl101ks @smiithys

[nomniki]

eternity with you ━━ hwang hyunjin ⟡ spending the summer festival with hyunjin and falling a little more in love with him

genre﹒fluff word count﹒1918 warnings﹒a little angst ig? bc u don’t think u have a chance w jinnie but it’s ok!!

an﹒this was not supposed to be this long i got SOOOO carried away but i luv this n i rly hope u guys like it it’s so cute and dramatic and UGH this is probably one of my favourite things i’ve written it’s just 1.9k words of appreciating how pretty hyunjin is and being in love with him…real and pt. 3 of my genshin au

a canvas of ever changing colours spread out before you, vast and infinitely beautiful in a way you couldn’t hope to accurately describe. sunsets were ethereal in inazuma. you hoped hyunjin would arrive in time to see it, capture the moment with his kamera and recreate its beauty tenfold in one of his otherworldly paintings.

as though you’d summoned him by the mere thought, you heard a scuffle on the other side of the wall. one of his sandals came into view, eliciting a laugh at the huffs and whines of exertion you heard as he pulled himself up. his chest heaved when he planted himself at the top, dolled up in indigo and midnight blue robes that complimented his blond hair, glowing a warm orange in the dying sunlight.

the sunset paled in comparison to hyunjin, who looked nothing short of angelic, a feat only he could manage after scaling a wall. the look in his eyes when he spotted you was one you tucked away into the crevices of your chest, cradled it somewhere hidden and close to your heart, a place where all things concerning hyunjin belonged.

“yn!”

he exclaimed, giggling brightly. you were embarrassed to realise you were staring, so you waved up to him meekly. when he was safely planted on his feet, wobbly but upright, hyunjin tugged you towards him into a hug. you returned it earnestly, hoping distantly that the suns filtered light would disguise the blush on your cheeks.

“you won’t believe how difficult it was to escape that dreadful place,” he whined, hand searching for yours. “my mother truly is the worst.”

“but you made it, so let’s enjoy the festival as much as we possibly can.”

getting to spend the summer festival with hyunjin was a fever dream you hoped never to wake from. his hand never left your own, pulling away to wipe the sweat off of your hand was deemed a task that took too long in hyunjin’s eyes and he chased you, settled only when your fingers were interlocked again. even when it was inconvenient, hyunjin insisted you stay by his side, joined at the hand for every moment.

“hyunjin, let me go, you can’t even hold your food properly!”

though you spoke sternly, your voice was laced with fondness unmistakable to hyunjin, who knew the intricacies of your mannerisms better than he knew himself. he let you go with a pout that was soothed as you shared one of your skewers with him, loaded with tricolour dango that made his mouth water.

the sun settled below the horizon and sprinkled stars across the sky, one’s you believed looked so much prettier reflected in hyunjin’s eyes. lanterns were strung above your heads, hyunjin brushed them with his fingertips, mouth wide in awe. his emotions were so raw, so visible on his pretty features that the moment felt distinctly intimate. for as long as you'd known him, hyunjin had been an honest boy, and as the years passed and maturity spun its fine threads into his handsome face, it was nice to see that hadn't changed. for the sake of your weak heart, you averted your gaze. it was a stark reminder that however close hyunjin remained, no matter the lack of contact between you, he was never truly in reach. he was like the moon, desirable and admirable but you could never truly have him.

before you could fall victim to those melancholy thoughts, you were being tugged through the crowds, your heart pounding along to the rhythm of hyunjin’s melodious laughter. clearly in the few moments that had passed while you were lost in your own head, you had missed something crucial, but you would have followed hyunjin anywhere. running after him, through the bustling crowds and between the festival stalls was no exception. shouts floated through the air behind you, barely distinguishable from the buzz of noise. you were intimately familiar with the bellows of the inazuman guards, this wasn’t your first escapade with the runaway eldest son of the yashiro commission.

after a few dizzying minutes of running, hand held so tightly onto hyunjin your knuckles ached, you slowed to a stop. you’d entered a thicket of trees and it seemed celestia had set you up. hyunjin sparkled beneath the fragments of moonlight filtering through the canopy of leaves, entranced by the glittering water ahead of you while it seemed sinful to take your eyes off of him.

the sound of your breathing was much too loud, interrupting the peace you’d discovered. cold water lapped at your feet as you stepped into its shallow depths, hyunjin at your side and giggling all the while.

“that never gets old.”

“says you!”

very quickly the appeal of the cool water dwindled to uncomfortableness and you settled in the undergrowth, content to let the residual heat from the evening dry your skin. wordlessly, hyunjin pulled your legs over his lap, fretting and fiddling with your gifted robes in interest.

“i never told you how pretty you looked tonight.”

something ached deep in your chest, a thrum of discomfort through your body alongside the hoard of butterflies waking in your gut.

you laughed the compliment off a little awkwardly, “i don’t think i need to tell you how pretty you look, jinnie. you always look pretty.”

your teasing tone was a poor excuse to hide the genuine nature of your words. it was almost ironic how you praised hyunjin’s honesty, his openness and his empathy, but you could not afford him the same courtesy, hiding behind feeble words in hopes he would never know the true extent of your feelings for him.

“you’re thinking too loud, penny for your thoughts?”

you huffed, “you rich people don’t carry pennies.”

he hid his face in your knees, mumbling, “it’s just a phrase, shut up.”

a quiet sigh left you and you tipped your head up to the stars.

“when we were at that one stall, what did you wish for?”

hyunjin asked suddenly.

“your wishes won’t come true if you tell them to other people,” you muttered, almost petulantly.

the pause that followed was pregnant with unspoken words you couldn’t bring yourself to say, it wouldn’t be fair to him. how could you possibly tell him that you wished he would look at you with the adoration he directed towards faceless nobodies going about their daily lives in the streets? how could you tell him that you had wished that there was a future in which he loved you in the same manner you loved him, body and soul, so wholeheartedly that sometimes it felt like you couldn’t breathe without him.

you were too egalitarian to admit your love to someone who doesn’t love you back the same amount. you think hyunjin is the opposite. he will love someone and make them his home, even if they don't think of him enough to leave the lights on. it brings a slight frown to your face, hyunjin put out so much love into the world and all you wished is that he would pour a little of that into you. fill the empty cavities in your chest with his soft hands and softer lips, fill your ears with nothing but his voice and his laughter. how selfish.

the silence had stretched on too long, tense and hyunjin felt the stiffness in your limbs where they rested under his palms. he puffed out his cheeks, drumming his fingers thoughtfully and oblivious to the way it made your heart drop into your stomach.

“well, i wished that i could spend eternity with you. truthfully, i don’t think there will ever be enough time, not ever, that i feel like i’ve spent enough at your side. i guess eternity’s a start though.”

for all his perceptiveness, it seemed hyunjin had no idea he was breaking your heart. a lump was forming in your throat, traitorous tears in your eyes that you prayed to the archon wouldn’t fall in front of him. you swayed, pushing him playfully.

“all that time spent around the archons fanatic worshippers is starting to get to you,” your voice wobbled, unsteady, “eternity, huh?”

the glance you spared at him was a mistake, you froze under his honest gaze.

“we have shared eighteen long years steeped in love and tenderness so deeply rooted in our beings that it has branded our very souls. i spend my every sleeping moment dreaming up all manner of ways in which i can show my love for you, and every waking moment calculating the soonest possible opportunity in which i can see you again. i want us to be entwined for all eternity, tied together in a tree of knots that will forever hold our memories on its aged branches. if you’ll have me, i’ll spend our eternity proving that i am worthy of you.”

cotton filled your head and it seemed your brain had funnelled out through your ears, leaving you devoid of any coherent thought. the archon had betrayed you, and silent tears traced the slope of your cheek.

“worthy of me? hyunjin, i’ve spent my whole life hoping that one day i might be worthy of you.”

his thumbs brushed over the apples of your cheeks, eyes fluttering shut at the delicate touch. the care with which he treated you, with which he always treated you, was dizzying. the expected press of his lips against yours did nothing to prepare you for the phenomenon itself, your breath punched out of your lungs when you kissed. hwang hyunjin, the sole love and light of your life, who’d spent his entire lifetime existing as the one thing you could never truly have, was kissing you.

each kiss left you a little more breathless, all your nerves standing on end and electricity pulsing through your veins. you were getting worked up with each brush of your skin, each point of content bursting with sparks, even through the veil of fabric. you kissed him back ferociously, imbuing more passion into the calculated movement of your lips than you had for any other menial endeavour in your life.

you kissed him until your lungs burnt and your lips ached under the ministrations of his teeth, terrified that when you opened your eyes you would realise that it had all been the culmination of an exceedingly vivid hallucination.

hyunjin pressed a kiss to your nose, scattering them across the expanse of your face that made it scrunch under the ticklish sensation.

“will you? will you have me?” he asked breathlessly, not ceasing in his task to plaster every stretch of your skin in kisses, deposit his love on every available inch until you were positively drowning in it.

“yes, yes, jinnie, one hundred thousand yes’.”

his toothy smile was infectious, you grinned in turn. you spoke sweet nothings against his clammy skin in electric brushes of your lips. you kissed again and wondered what you possibly could’ve done to deserve to have hyunjin. to belong to him, for him equally to be yours, to love and be loved by the object of your utmost adoration. he squeezed your hands, and that was enough. it was enough to quell your doubtful thoughts and immerse you again wholly in hyunjin and you, greedily, made another wish.

in accordance with his wishes, those of which you had spent your life accommodating to thus far and planned to do forever on afterwards, you wished that you could spent eternity with hyunjin.

✦ to my masterlist

[lostinthewiind]

I don’t know if you write for them as well, but could I request a poly fic for Reki, Langa and the reader and maybe them explaining them explaining their relationship to Langas and/or Rekis mom after being caught cuddling together? Thank you in advance and sorry, if you don’t write for them.

Polyamorous Relationship w/ Reki & Langa: Three's a Crowd

A/N: my first request for Reki and Langa! I'm so excited because I love those boys with my whole heart; they deserve the world! So excited to write this!

Rating: PG13

Warnings: use of the term "slut", complex teenage relationships/sexuality discussed

Flopping over onto your back on the bed, you stretched your arms and legs out and let out a loud yawn. You, Reki, and Langa had been working on homework ever since the three of you had arrived at Langa's house after school and you were starting to get mentally exhausted. 

"I'm done!" you exclaimed, shutting your eyes and exhaling.

Peeking at you from where he was lying on the floor, Reki cocked a brow at you. "You finished all of it?"

"No." You shook your head. "I'm just done. My brain hurts. If I do any more I think I might die."

"Good enough for me!" Reki closed his textbook as well and stopped doing his homework too.

Sighing from his spot at his desk, Langa turned in his desk chair to face the two of you. "We have to have this done for tomorrow. You do know that, right?"

"Yes, obviously." You rolled your eyes. "I'm going to do the rest later. I just need a break."

"Exactly. Break time!" Reki stood up from the floor and promptly fell down on top of you on Langa's bed, crushing you and pushing the air out of your lungs in the process. "I'll finish later too."

Langa scoffed. "Y/N I believe . . . but Reki, we all know you'll forget about it tonight and end up scrambling to finish as the teacher goes around collecting it tomorrow morning."

"He does have a point," you wheezed out, trying your hardest to push Reki off of your stomach.

Reki frowned and stuck his bottom lip out dramatically. "You guys are so mean to me." He adjusted himself on top of you so his face was hovering right above yours. "I expected this from Langa, but you, Y/N? I thought you loved me."

You forced out a laugh as you cupped his face with your hands. "I do love you, but that doesn't mean you don't have faults, Reki. I love you despite your faults, and one of your faults is procrastination."

He furrowed his brows, his face scrunching up in thought. "I can't tell if that was a compliment or not."

"The gist was that you're loved," Langa muttered as he continued working away at the homework one question at a time, trying his best to ignore the two of you.

Reki's eyes lit up at that. "Well, good!" He smiled as he cupped your face with his hands in return and pressed a soft kiss to your lips.

Immediately, your cheeks turned red and you averted his gaze. Things between the three of you were still relatively new and you were still working out how a relationship with three people worked, exactly. The fact that neither one of you had ever really had a serious relationship before only made things more complicated.

Noticing your reaction, Reki brushed the pads of his thumbs over your cheeks. "Sorry," he apologized. "I should have asked before I kissed you."

"No, it's okay," you assured him, a soft smile on your face as you did so. "I'm just not used to it yet, especially since our relationship isn't exactly . . . normal."

"I know." Reki hugged you tight and buried his face in your neck, pressing a soft kiss to the skin there. "Did you tell your parents yet?"

You shook your head as your heart began to pound nervously. "No. Did you?"

"Not yet," he mumbled into your neck. "Every time I try to, one of my siblings is around and I abort mission."

Craning your neck, you looked over at Langa. "Did you tell your mom yet, Langa?"

Only half-listening to the conversation, Langa perked at his name but tilted his head quizzically at the inquiry. "Did I tell my mom what?"

"About us," Reki clarified. "The three of us being together."

"Oh." He seemed to grow nervous about the topic as well. "Not yet. Soon."

Finally rolling off of you, Reki laid on his back and pulled you into his side, his arm wrapped around you and your head resting on his chest. "If only we were adults and didn't have to worry about the approval of our parents."

"Yeah," Langa agreed, thoroughly distracted from his homework now, his mind running a mile a minute while he thought about the current predicament. The three of you had to be careful when you went over to each others' houses, trying your best to convince everyone that you were just close friends and nothing more.

Cuddling and kissing were usually reserved for late nights when the sun went down, the lights were turned off, and the three of you hid behind the excuse of watching a movie together. Funnily enough, watching a movie together and cuddling had been how the three of you had discovered your feelings for one another.

"Speaking of that, you two should be careful." Langa gestured to the way you and Reki were holding each other on his bed. "What if my mom walks in?"

"Yeah, you're right," Reki sighed. "I just feel like we never get to be together how we want . . . we're worried about what our parents will think at home and worried about what everyone else will think at school. Nevermind the fact that Langa and I are gay, or, bisexual I guess . . . but polyamory? We'd never hear the end of it."

You exhaled slowly, cuddling closer to Reki. "They'd probably call me a slut for having two boyfriends."

Standing from his chair, Langa walked over to the bed and laid down with you and Reki, forgetting about all of his usual paranoid worries for the time being. "You're not a slut," he told you, wrapping his arms around you as well. "And who cares what anyone else thinks anyway, right? As long as we're happy and we're not hurting anyone else, that's all that matters."

Relishing in the feeling of having your two favourite people on either side of you, you started feeling the stress fade away and your body relax from its usual tense state. "I wish we could stay like this forever."

Before either Reki or Langa had the chance to respond, the bedroom door suddenly swung open and Langa's mom poked her head into the room. "Langa, are you friends staying for dinner or-" She stopped talking as soon as she saw the three of you tangled up in one another on the bed.

Immediately, the three of you jumped away from each other, the stress that had just left filling your body once more. Completely caught off guard since Langa's mom usually knocked first before opening the door, neither one of you knew how to explain away what she had just seen.

"M-mom!" Langa was standing on the opposite side of the room now while you and Reki stood on either side of the bed. "Why didn't you knock?"

Langa's mom eyed the three of you, quickly noticing the flushed faces and obvious nerves radiating off of you. Even if she hadn't thought anything of what she had seen at first, she definitely suspected something now with how the three of you were acting.

"I apologize," she said, pushing the door open all the way and standing in the doorway. "Langa, dear, do you have something you want to tell me?"

Fiddling nervously with his fingers, Langa turned to look at you and Reki, trying to gauge your reactions and decide whether he should tell the truth or try to pull off some sort of lie; but both you and Reki were completely useless as you stared down at the floor and shifted anxiously.

"Langa?" His mom prompted once more.

Finally meeting his mother's gaze, Langa drew in a deep breath. "Can you promise not to be mad?"

Langa's mother quirked a brow quizzically. "You're starting to worry me, honey. Just tell me what's got you so flustered."

"Well . . . u-um," Langa stumbled over his words, completely unsure how he was supposed to just come out and say it. "Well, Mom . . . Reki, Y/N, and I aren't . . . aren't just friends."

Langa's mother folded her arms over her chest and took a minute to process what she had just heard. "I'm sorry, I don't think I understand what you're trying to tell me."

Deciding to rescue Langa from having to ride solo on this, you stepped over to him and took his hand in yours. "Mrs. Hasegawa, Langa and I are dating," you told her.

"Oh, I see." Langa's mom's face flashed with understanding, but then she looked over at Reki, no doubt wondering how he fit into all of this.

"And I'm dating Y/N." Reki stood on the other side of you.

Langa nodded. "And I'm also dating Reki."

The understanding that had once been visible on Langa's mom's face had completely vanished after the three of you had elaborated. "S-so . . ." She paused as she tried to fit all the pieces together in her head. "So the three of you are all dating each other? Is that right?"

"Y-yes," Langa confirmed. "We know people will think it's weird but it's just what makes us happy and I just . . . just please don't be mad."

"Mad?" Langa's mother seemed offended at the insinuation that she could ever be mad at her son for, for lack of a better term, coming out to her more or less. "Oh, dear, I could never be mad at you for who you love."

Before either of you had the chance to process how well that conversation had just gone, Langa's mother was striding over to the three of you and pulling you all into a hug. "All that matters is that you're happy and healthy," she told Langa before looking to you and Reki. "And the same goes for the two of you. I don't know what your parents have said about this, but just remember that being happy and healthy is all that matters."

"Y-you're really okay with this?" Happy tears began to well in Langa's eyes. It was clear that he was overjoyed and shocked that his mother had been so accepting so easily.

Placing her hands on her son's face, Langa's mother smiled at him. "Of course, I am. Is it a little confusing for me? Sure. Do I know much about being in a polyamorous relationship? No. But if the three of you have discovered that this is what makes you happy, as I'm sure you have since you're all old enough to make your own decisions and know what's best for you, then I'm happy as well."

"Thank you!" Langa hugged his mom tightly, silent sobs escaping him as all the worry he had been carrying around for weeks dissipated and he was flooded with relief.

"I'll always love you, no matter what," Langa's mom told him as she glanced at you and Reki, who were starting to tear up as well. "Do your parents know as well?"

You and Reki shook your heads. "No, not yet," you said in unison.

"Well, I hope they are understanding," she told you. "And just know that the three of you are always welcome here."

"Thank you, Mrs. Hasegawa." Reki wrapped his arms around you and held you tight as you cried as well. "Really, thank you so much. We were all scared that everyone would think we were weird or gross."

"People are often scared of things that they think are different," Langa's mom explained to the three of you. "But that doesn't mean there is anything wrong with being different. I won't lie and say that everyone will be understanding, but the world is changing . . . don't assume the worst from people just yet; they might surprise you."

With that, Langa let go of his mother and engulfed you and Reki in a hug. Finally, the three of you had safe space where you could be together and not worry about judgmental people looking in on your relationship. 

Overjoyed and unable to control his excitement, Reki planted kisses on both you and Langa—marking the first time either of you had dared show affection in front of someone outside of the relationship.

Hopefully, the first of many. 

[hyunhour]

when he calls me pretty, i feel like somebody] [ changbin au

a/n: okay this is a short changbin drabble but honestly.... LONG OVERDUE!!!!/!/!/₩/2: and if u can’t tell by the title yet, it is loosely inspired by cloud 9 by beach bunny (sosososo cute btw) yes am so sorry... it is self indulgent n honestly wnted to keep this in the drafts but i think it could serve as a comfort fic for some and i hope it does c:

f2l trope kinda??? fluff mixed w angst ahakz!’snajs changbin x femreader

tw: body dysmorphia, mentions of self-harm

word count: 1.4k

you think that you’re not worthy of any love simply because you do not fit into the society’s beauty standards or you’re just not “conventionally beautiful” or whatever it is they say nowadays. but seo changbin thinks otherwise; he thinks you’re the prettiest little thing he’s ever laid eyes on since day one.

Curiousity got the best of Seo Changbin. But when he peeks through the gap of the door left ajar, he doesn’t expect to see her standing before the mirror in the most vulnerable position yet.

All that left her body were muffled sobs, she was crying through the bunched up fabric that she gathered in her mouth. It revealed her abdomen, bare for everyone to see. One hand was clamped over her mouth and the other clawed at her soft tummy, and it went on for a while.

Her legs visibly trembled underneath her as she grabbed the side of her belly, squeezing the fat that gathered there. Her knuckles turned white the tighter she squeezed, but it didn’t seem like she was crying from the physical pain she was inflicting upon herself (rather a type of intangible pain) and he can clearly see the red lines that ran across the surface of her skin.

Even from afar, Changbin could see the trickling of blood that rose above the broken skin, albeit small but smeared all over the smooth expanse of her tummy. All he could think was, why? Why would she ever do such a thing?

“Why are you crying?” his throat was swollen when he finally managed to speak up, hand clenching on the doorknob for dear life because god forbid he found out whoever made her feel this way; he barely has the control to pull himself together, let alone throw a punch or two.

She’s startled, rightfully so, his abrupt entrance causing the back of her knees to hit the edge of the bed when she stumbles. “Changbin... why are you here?” her voice is calm, nothing of what she is actually. When she turns to look at him in the face, he swears that he heard his heart shatter within his body.

Because he isn’t prepared for the sight. He’s never seen her so raw and vulnerable, face pink and puffy, eyes bloodshot red and the crimson red underneath her fingernails. She pulls her shirt further down, fists clenched at her sides as she stubbornly drags the fabric past her thighs.

It takes a lot, for him to be able to close the distance between the both of them and seat her onto the bed. “Why are you crying?” Changbin reiterates, settling between her legs as he rests on his knees. She doesn’t answer immediately, only shielding herself by placing her hands over her face.

She shakes her head and hopes he would simply just drop it. “I can’t tell you.” she’s struggling to even say anything, voice all scratchy from all the wailing beforehand.

He prys her hands away from her face, his tremulous hands then tucking strays of her hair behind her ears. Beads of sweat rolled down her swollen cheeks, though it wasn’t the most appropriate for this situation, he wonders how she can still look so pretty like this. “You don’t have to. But I need you to know that I’m worried,” he reassures her, voice dropping an octave low to ease her further.

She leans into his hand, cheek resting against his palm and he feels his heart practically rip through his chest. He thinks for a moment, he would like this moment to last. Where she trusts him enough to lift the veil she conceals herself under, by herself, without needing anyone to forcefully peel it away.

“Did you see his new girl?” her voice is practically quiet, so small that if it was anyone else, they would probably not be able to catch anything. But this was Seo Changbin, he cared for her and was most attentive to her. Traits that a lot of people around her severely lacked unfortunately. It is okay though, she thinks, because he is more than enough.

He tilts his head to the side in confusion, brows furrowed together as he tries to comprehend what her ex-boyfriend’s new partner would have to do with her bawling her eyes out. Unconsciously, his hands dropped to his lap, clenched into fists. “What about her?”

She only lets out a weak-hearted laugh, a painful smile that he refuses to witness ever again because this was just way too much for him to bear. “She’s beautiful.” she inhales sharply, her voice trembling and the tough front she displayed for him crumbles down almost immediately.

He holds back a scoff, hand reaching her knee to rub small circles around it. “She’s so, beautiful. So, so pretty...” she’s out of breath yet again, “–slim and slender..” even with her wavering eyes, he still manages to lock eyes with her. “She fits so nicely in his arms, all nice and snug. His t-shirt, it looks big on her but on me–“ her breath hitches, “–god, I probably looked so fucking ugly.”

“And?” he prompts.

“And, she’s so... not me.” she finishes, catching her bottom lip in between her teeth.

He’s never felt this much anger seething from within him. He has no idea who to be mad at, was it her stupid ex, the new girl or her? His heart physically thrums against his ribs, pounding painfully against his chest and he doesn’t even realize he’s gripping onto her knee so harshly until she winces in pain.

“Say something.” she says as she peels his fingers away from her knee. The corners of his lips tug upwards as he looks up at her, throbbing eyes observing every small detail of hers—the creases of her lips, his shirt that she was wearing that looked exceptionally good on her, her luscious thighs which he unknowingly splayed his digits on to rub soothing circles yet again.

“You’re insane, you know that?” he sighs, an incredulous laugh leaving past his lips. One of her eyebrows cocks up as he says this, unsure of what exactly he was trying to say. “Me?” she points at herself.

“Yes you.” he nods his head.

Silence settles between the both of them before he speaks up again. “You are so beautiful, and it’s insane to me that you can’t even see that.” a sliver of his teeth shows through his wide smile, and her heart wrenches at how adorable he looks, wide eyes peering up so innocently at her.

Changbin’s eyes looked like it was filled with stars were dancing within a galaxy of its own. But really all he was looking at was her, she held the universe within herself and he admired that. He looked at her like she was his world.

“Stop lying, it’s not funny.” she says sternly, arms crossing above her chest. He breaks into a small laugh, reaching for her hands and slipping his fingers in between hers. “I’m not lying, you idiot.”

She feels like all of the air within her lungs had been knocked out of her the moment he brings her into his chest, his calloused hand carding through her hair as he rests the underside of his chin above her head. Sure they have hugged several times before but something about this felt much more, intimate. Maybe it was the way he was running his fingers through the knotty bits of her hair so easily, or the way he sways their bodies to an unknown rhythm or the–

“I love you.” Changbin whispers, his voice so soft coupled with the sweet syllables, almost like a mimicry of melted chocolate and warm milk. It oozed of pure bliss. “I love every part of you, the top of your head to the tip of your toes. God, I love them all. And if I could let you see through my eyes for even a second, I would, cause’ then maybe you’d be able to understand why the hell I love you the way I do.”

She feels like crying. This time it isn’t the green envy or the seething anger from before, this time it’s different... This time it’s pure jovial tears. Her glossy eyes meets with his crescent moon shaped eyes, his smile stretching from ear to ear once they pull away. “Do you mean that?”

“When have I ever lied to you?” he rests his forehead against hers, his palms holding both her cheeks. “You’re really, really gorgoeus. Inside out.” he breathes, shying away from her for a moment as if he did not profess his love for her seconds ago. He’s a little flustered, cheeks reddening from the realization sinking in (clearly he was not used to being so endearing) and she laughs at this.

“Really? You’re shy now?” she giggles, and she feels as though all the weight had been lifted off her shoulders and she feels so free in his arms like this.

“Shut up.” he brings her head into his chest once again, muffling her next words.

Changbin has never failed her not once, and she doesn’t think he will ever do so.

[nighting-gale17]

HEY BB!!! hope you are well! a buddie fic request: exdie hearing buck scream out to him and talking about it with buck after, and maybe a feeling confessions??? 💖💖💖 love u

<3 this ended up being a little long, but i hope you like it!!!!! i love you too sooooooo much

“Eddie! No, Eddie!”

The scream of raw panic and terror was visceral even from where Eddie was trapped, almost over forty feet beneath collapsed dirt and mud. It was all Eddie heard before everything continued to fall and collapse in on itself, leaving nothing but a deafening silence and the sound of Buck’s despair ringing in his ears.

He thinks he might have been knocked out—for how long, he doesn’t know—but when he comes too, he swears he can still hear Buck screaming for him. He groaned as he came too, his head throbbing painfully even underneath the helmet he was wearing. Eddie’s hand weakly flopped against his shoulder, grimacing when he didn’t feel the radio against his hand. With great reluctance he opened his eyes, blinking a couple of times before his hazy vision cleared and he spotted the radio sitting just within arms reach in front of him.

Eddie reached out, fingers brushing against the antenna and slowly pulling it toward him. He coughed a little, his shaky hands raising the radio up to his mouth. “This is Diaz,” he rasped, his words slurring a little as he tried to get his mouth to work. “Can anybody… hear me?”

The radio remained silent aside from a brief crackle. Terror clutched at his heart and he forced himself to sit up, leaning heavily against the edge of the dirt wall next to him. “This is Eddie,” he said into the radio, struggling to keep his head up. “I’m still…” his head dropped forward a bit, exhaustion and ache in every ounce of his body. “I’m still alive.”

“I’m still alive down here!” he screamed into the radio, desperation, and panic starting to overtake the sluggish calm he’d been feeling. He pounded his fist against the dirt, praying, hoping, that someone could hear him. “I’m still alive down here!”

“Anyone?” he whispered brokenly into the radio. 

xxx

The first time Eddie laid eyes on Buck when he woke up in the hospital, his best friend was asleep.

He was laying passed out on the couch against the wall of the room with Christopher nestled tightly on his chest. One arm was curled protectively over Christopher’s back while the other hung limply off the edge of the couch. He was in a fresh pair of clothes—Eddie’s clothes, which made him swallow hard and try not to think too hard about it—but his face was still grimy with dirt and mud, lines of tension visible even while he slept.

“He was very worried about you, nieto.” his Abuela drew his attention back to her. She was gazing at Buck and Christopher with a mix of worry and fondness on her face. “He refused to leave, so after I brought Christopher here I went back home and got him a change of your clothes.”

“I’m sorry I worried you.” Eddie murmured, reaching out and holding his Abuela’s hand tightly. “Thank you for taking care of them.”

“Of course. He is family.” Abuela said simply, squeezing his hand and leaning forward to gently kiss his forehead. “Sleep, mijo, I will watch over you and them.”

Hearing Abuela call Buck family warmed Eddie’s chest like no heated blankets or warm IVs could ever compete with. He knew Abuela had been quickly enraptured by Buck’s charm—they all had—and it comforted him to know if anything happened to him, Buck would be well taken care of.

The next time he woke up, Buck was holding his hand. His friend was staring blankly at the wall across from him, exhaustion weighing heavy on his face and a haunted look in his eyes. It wasn’t until Eddie gently squeezed his hand that Buck seemed to break out of whatever trance he was in. He quickly looked down at Eddie and the relief that flooded his face knocked the breath out of Eddie’s lungs.

“Oh, thank God,” Buck breathed, squeezing his hand tightly. “How’re you feeling, Eds?”

Eddie hummed tiredly. “Okay, I think. Head kind of hurts. Little cold, still.”

“The doctor said you had a Grade 1 concussion,” Buck said, chewing on his bottom lip absently. He always did that when he was worried about something. “Mild hypothermia, so they wanted to keep you for 24 hours to make sure there weren’t any complications.”

“Hayden?” he asked, hoping Chimney and the boy he’d rescued had gotten to safety before the collapse.

“He’s fine,” Buck assured him with a tired smile. “Thanks to you. They managed to get out right before—” he cut himself off, swallowing hard and looking away.

"I heard you,” Eddie admitted, running his thumb along the inside of Buck’s wrist. It soothed his nerves to feel the steady pulse thrumming with life beneath his finger. “When the well collapsed, before I was knocked out.”

Buck inhaled shakily, looking absolutely wrecked. “I-I thought I lost you.” Fresh tears dripped down his face as he shook his head. “When the lightning struck, I turned my back on you for one second to keep Bobby safe and—”

Eddie reached up with his other hand to gently brush the tears off his cheeks, silent support, and encouragement to keep going. It breaks his heart to hear Buck talk like this, talk about what happened above ground, but it was obvious this was something he needed to tell him.

“Every time I try to help someone I keep losing you two,” Buck said brokenly, his blue eyes full of pain and guilt.

“Buck, what do you mean?” Eddie asked. His mouth twisted into a confused frown at Buck’s words.

Buck hesitated, not looking at Eddie when he quietly started talking again. “During the—the tsunami, I turned my back on Christopher for one second to help someone and he was just gone. And the same thing happened again.” When he finally looked up at Eddie, his heart broke at the pain shining in those eyes. “Why does this keep happening? Why do I keep losing you two? Is this the universe’s sick way of telling me I need to stay away from you?”

“No,” Eddie told him firmly, grasping the back of Buck’s neck and pulling him closer until their foreheads touched. “Absolutely not. Sometimes bad things just happen to good people. It’s no one's fault, Buck.”

“I know why you did it,” Buck said, eyes closing as he spoke. “I’m not mad—I mean, I probably would’ve done the exact same thing. I was just scared, of losing you, of Christopher losing you.”

“I’ll always come back to family, Buck,” Eddie promised, brushing his thumb over Buck’s cheekbone and smiling softly when those baby blues finally met his gaze. “I’m not planning on going anywhere for a long time.”

When their mouths slotted together in the gentlest of kisses, it wasn’t a surprise to either of them. It was natural—just like everything had been with Buck, and Eddie knows he’s loved this man for a long time. The kiss said everything their hearts were feeling but their mouths wouldn’t say, a quiet promise, an affirmation—not a declaration—of the love they held for each other.

When they broke the kiss, Eddie let himself be held in Buck’s arms, relishing in the warmth it brought to his cold and battered body. Buck’s hand gently carded through his hair and as Eddie’s eyes fluttered shut, he felt a small smile grow on his lips. He’s dealt with a lot of complicated things in his life but this?

Nothing was complicated about their love.

[innaminitus]

Praise

Pairing: Loki x reader 

Request:  loki smut where the reader is extremely timid and shy and he finds it endearing and also a bit of a turn on because it makes him feel that much more powerful when she blushes and has trouble making eye contact? also praise kink cause oof ps. i love love love your writing so much and this will probably be the end of me if you end up writing it (from anon)

and

The reader is super shy and part of the avengers. Loki thinks she’s cute so he’s constantly whispering dirty stuff he wants to do to her in explicit detail into her ears when he walks past her and he keeps doing this and she gets super pent up about it and then he does it one time and then she just grabs his collar and pulls him into a kiss and is like “if u really want to do all that stuff to me, do it” and then after that night they try and have sex in riskier places around the compound. (from anon)

Warnings: smut, language

Word count: 1732

A/N: so the freaking app i’ve been using for my headers had decided to fking delete my font?????? and i had to use different one, i don’t wike it

“Loki? Are you asleep?” Your voice was quiet when you asked him through the door, almost wanting him to be asleep, just not to cause any trouble.

It was around two in the morning and you woke up to use the bathroom, but was petrified when you saw a large spider crawling on the floor. As soon as it hid under your closet you run out of the room and headed to the only person that could possibly still be awake.

It wasn’t that you were always so spooky, it was just the case of spiders, ever since your childhood when a particularly fat one fell on your face while you were falling asleep in your parents’ holiday cabin.

You wanted to walk away and maybe wake Steve, but at the very moment the door opened and Loki’s sleepy face peaked at you from the gap.

“What do you need, petal?” He yawned, fixing his hair so the lost strands didn’t poke his eyes.

You blushed at the nickname he gave you. It was, after all, the whole reason for the nickname itself – your constant blushing once reminded him of roses, and the element of it stayed with you ever since.

“There’s a spider in my room,” you murmured, unwanted sense of guilt shredding your insides when he rubbed his eye, trying to wake himself up.

“Is it big?”

“Huge,” you nodded and parted your hands to show him the size, maybe exaggerating it a bit.

Loki sighed and walked out of his room, closing the door shut behind him.

“Well then, I shall make sure it doesn’t eat you.” He smirked at you as he walked past you. “At least not before I do it first.”

The blush on your face deepened and overtook your whole body, angering you as it did, since it was exactly what Loki wanted. He just loved making you blush and shy, always saying things like that.

I bet you taste just as good as what you cook.

Gods, I can just imagine what else you can do with that mouth of yours.

At first he was just making fun of you, cockily enjoying how embarrassed you were, but lately it became more… intimate. As if he really wanted to do all these things to you, things he sometimes whispered hotly to your ear while holding your waist during missions.

I would rip that leather off of you in a second, petal.

You would lie if you said his words didn’t make you feel hotness between your legs, and that you never touched yourself to the memory of his breath surrounding your neck, to the fantasy of him doing all these filthy things to you.

But that was something you kept in secret. No one could know, after all, not if you didn’t want to be made fun of. Falling for the villain, for the bad boy. How very fanfiction-ish of you.

You followed him to your room, and pointed at your closet.

“I saw it last there.”

But Loki didn’t bend to see underneath it, he stretched his hands so the palms were facing the floor and a second later you felt the air pulsating, tinted with green light, playing with rays of the moonlight peaking from untight curtains. You saw it diving across the floor and walls before Loki rapidly moved one of his hands and a spider flew from under your bed, and hung in the air before you.

“Throw it out, throw it out, throw it out!” You turned away and screamed when Loki made the spider fly after you.

He laughed and threw it out the opened window.

“I must say, that’s not exactly the reason I’d like you to wake me up to in the middle of the night,” he said, heading his way to the door.

“What reason would you prefer?” You suddenly asked when his fingers were wrapped around the doorknob, ready to leave. Your heart was pounding and you weren’t actually sure you said that out loud.

He turned with a cocky smile and took a step in your direction, only then you realized how close you actually were. He wrapped a string of your hair around his finger and pulled your face closer to his, his warm lips only barely touching your cheek.

“The wetness between your legs. Your lips around my cock. Or my fingers in your pussy, driving you crazy. These are the reasons I’d prefer,” he whispered in a husky voice, your cheeks crimsoned and womanhood throbbed.

“Do it, then,” you whispered as well, forgetting how to breathe.

“What do you want me to do, petal?” His finger caressed your cheek, he looked down at you.

“Everything you always say to me,” your heart stopped beating as well, “do it all.”

And just like that, within a split second his lips were on yours, tasting the blush and bold words said in the moonlight. He kissed you gentler than you would imagine, his hands cupped your face and you couldn’t help but lean on him, diving into the soothing coldness of his skin, into the sudden affection that surrounded you whole.

Loki’s arms wrapped around your waist and brought you even closer, at the same time when his tongue sneaked into your mouth, caressed the roof of your mouth. You let yourself drown in the moment, to hope it would last forever.

His hands dived under your pajama shirt, cold fingers on your hot skin caused goose bumps. You let him take the shirt off, sudden breeze from the opened window made your nipples harden. Without a thought you covered your bare chest with your hands, sure that the crimson blush on your face was well visible despite the darkness.

Loki gently wrapped his fingers around your hands, his thumbs massaging the palms.

“Don’t…” His voice was quiet when he encouraged you to expose yourself. You did it, holding his hands, allowing him to see you. “You’re perfect.”

Somehow it was all you needed to give up to him entirely. A passionate kiss warmed your lips again, and with shaking hands you took off your pants and underwear, shivering with excitement.

Loki took a step, forcing you to sit on the bed as he kneeled in front of you. He brought you to the edge of it and with heavily beating heart you let him lay you on the bedsheets. His hands caressed your thighs before he parted them, and a delightful sigh came to your ears.

“Oh, petal... Marvelous.”

You felt his fingers dipping in your wetness, smearing it all over your pussy before he pushed two fingers inside of you, making you squirm. His fingers were skilled, he curved them just enough to hit the right spot, soon turning you into moaning mess, forgetting how to breathe when his tongue swiped a stripe between your folds, collecting the juice and groaning with satisfaction before sucking on your clit.

You had him kneeling before you, his mouth and fingers on your pussy, almost coming at the spot just at the taste of you.

Your fingers dived into his hair, but instead of pressing him firmer against you, you pulled his hair to kiss him. Your juices on his tongue were salty, his kisses became more greedy. You crawled to the head of the bed, dragging him with you, tugging on his clothes to take them off.

His naked form was pressed against your body, you were lazily kissing him back, your face wet, your bodies sweating in the hot August night, hands sticking, breaths unsteady.

You dared to kiss his neck, to taste the salt from his skin, to even tug it a little.

His length was poking your stomach, twitching, begging for friction, for warm pussy to clench around it. You wrapped your fingers around it and he let out a sigh, warming the skin of your collarbone he was kissing. He adjusted his pose, your legs rested on his back, he cocked his hips at the same time you moved yours and just like that his cock was finally sliding into your aching pussy.

You gasped when he filled you whole, every inch of his member inside you, his abdomen rubbing your clit.

“How can– how can a mortal be this ideal?” He groaned and began to thrust, quickly picking up a fast pace. “Good little girl, all tight for me–“

You dug your hills in his back, forcing him to pound into you harder, kissing every word off his lips. He was stretching you perfectly, the way you never knew you needed.

“Got anything else nice to say?” You whispered when his fingers pinched your nipple before kneading your breast.

He smiled and kissed your neck, an especially hard thrust made you moan loudly.

“My petal likes to be praised?” He licked a stripe up your neck. “Good, because there’s a lot to praise…” You pulled him to kiss you, his tongue immediately slid into your mouth, taking the control you never had. “Such a precious pussy, clenching on my cock…” He smirked when you moaned loudly, his words turning you on like you’d never imagine. “Those perfect tits bouncing when I fuck you hard, I could cum just at the sight of them,” he gasped in your jaw before kissing you, fingers on your nipple tightening the grip. “My good girl…”

It was just too much, electricity flew from the place where he was pinching your nipples, it travelled down and met the hotness between your legs, the ecstasy was closer than the sky, closer than the molecules surrounding you, Loki swallowed your moans and the only thing you heard when your legs began to tremble was the squeaking of the springs. Orgasm shattered you like a porcelain doll, you didn’t know where you started and Loki ended, you felt him groan in your neck before spilling his cum inside of you, your bodies still firmly joined seconds after.

Your breathing came back to normal, what you couldn’t say about your heart that was pounding in your chest, the outline of it almost visible on your skin. Loki collapsed next to you, his breathing no better than yours.

The only thing you recalled before suddenly falling asleep was Loki’s cold skin pressed against you, his arms wrapping around your waist to spend the night in your company.  

___

Loki smut tag list: @lokislilslut@princerowanwhitethorngalathynius@darkprincessloki92@marvelrose@bluestaratsunrise@iamverity @lokilvrr @daddyloki @meraki--mei 

[smutsonian]

I just read your works and they are fucking AMAZING!!! Idk if u already watched 'Knives Out', but if u did... can I request where Ransom and y/n are fuckbuddies but it ends with angst? idkkkkkkk... thank youuu x

‘fuck buddy’

Warning/s: smut, asshole ransom, angst, please read at your own risk, spoiler-free, nOt ProOfReAd, fluFf

masterlist

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

It was after another family reunion. You didn’t know why they keep doing that stuff when it turns into a messy fight every year but here you are with Ransom, serving as his “girlfriend” and date. But you know too well that you’re far from having that title. His girlfriend.

You’re pretty sure that Ransom is not capable of loving someone or anything but himself and maybe money. He only bought you to the reunion because he thought that maybe by bringing you there, his family would not think of him as a loser. Maybe they’ll see him as someone who’s capable of keeping something such as a relationship. Maybe they’ll think of him as someone who can actually find someone who loves him. 

Of course, all of that was just for show. You were just for show. You’re not dating Ransom. Although, you have a certain arrangement. You were fuck buddies. That’s what he calls it. You use each other in a time of need. He’ll be there for you when you’re needy and you’ll be there if he is. And one thing’s for sure, Ransom is really needy. You made a deal and so you kept your word. When he needs you, you come. But that’s all that. Nothing more. Just a body to use when needed. 

You can’t hide the fact that you find him attractive. Extremely attractive. If he weren’t such an asshole, you would’ve been in the gutter. But that’s the problem. Once you spend almost all your time with him, you get to know why he’s the way he is. When you get the chance to see how his family acts around him, you’ll understand why he became the way he is. You’ll develop a sense of pity for the guy. You’ll realize that he’s just misunderstood. He’s not asshole by nature. He became an asshole because of his nature. Because of the people around him while he’s growing up. If that makes any sense.

Back to the reunion where he introduced you as his girlfriend. It was all going so well. He got compliments. You got compliments. Something along the lines of:

“Ransom’s so lucky to have you!”

“What a pretty girl.”

“How’d Ransom score someone like you?”

Then it got progressively worse and they started targeting Ransom.

“I can’t believe Ransom would find someone like you.”

“Did he blackmail you?”

“Are you sure about him? You can do so much better.”

The way they talk so badly about him disgusts you. The toxic atmosphere was suffocating and you understood why Ransom was… Ransom. You understood why he is the way he is. Feeling nauseous from the words that came from his own family, you excused Ransom and yourself out of the living room and into an empty hallway. He was visibly shaking. Probably from anger. But his face held much more emotions. Embarrassment, sadness, and loss?

“We can go if you want… I haven’t taken any alcohol so I can drive us-” you tried to pull him towards the main door of the house but he stopped you by grabbing your much tinier wrists with his huge hand and pulled you deeper down the hallway and into a bedroom. He pushed you gently inside and closed the door behind him. “Strip.” He bellowed. 

“Ransom, we can talk about it.” You walked towards him, trying to soothe him by running a hand down his arm comfortingly but he grabbed it with his other hand and glared at you. “I’m not your fucking boyfriend. We’re not in front of them anymore so you don’t have to act like my fucking girlfriend.” He hissed as he pushed your hand away. You stepped back and nodded. Of course, you’re not his girlfriend and he’s most definitely not your boyfriend. He’s made that clear numerous times. 

“Are you going to strip or not? ‘Cause if not, you can just leave.” He hisses one more time. You sighed and began removing your clothes, him doing the same thing with his. When both of you were completely bare, he pushed you towards the bed, making you fall on your hands and your knees. He didn’t waste time and immediately settled himself inside your cunt. He started his thrusts with a slow tempo, having a tiny amount of consideration for you to adjust to his size. When he hears your low moans, he started thrusting faster pulling on your hair and using it as leverage. You groaned at the slight sting on your scalp but ignored it as the point of this night is to make him forget those filthy words that his family said about him not your pleasure. Tonight was all about him. All about his pleasure so he can forget the hurtful words.

You can feel his cock twitch against your walls and that’s when you know that he’s about to finish up. “Your pussy feels so good around me, slut.” He groaned as his hand released your hair only to push your head down the pillows, pressing your face against them and making you arch your back. It gave him better access and he started to go deeper, hitting you in just the right places. When he was able to hit your sweet spot, you couldn’t help the loud moan erupting from your mouth. 

“Little slut loves being fucked like this, huh? Let them hear how much of a whore you are.” He started ramming into you, making your knees shake as you reach your peak. You whined in pleasure as you felt your walls clench around him, earning a series of grunt from him as he chased his own release. 

“Fuck!” He groans as he pulled away from you, making you fall sideways on the mattress. You heard shuffling so you turned to lay on your back just to see him putting his clothes back on. “Put your clothes on, I’ll be waiting in the car.” And with that, he left the room. 

That’s him every time he would release his stress and frustrations out on you. Calling you names, making sure that you know your place. It can be his way of turning you or himself on but all it does is just slap you in the face with the reality. The reality that you will never be enough for him. It’s so fucked up and inconvenient to catch feelings for a person like him. For a person that is your fuck buddy. It’s fucked up because you keep staying even though your heart breaks every time he leaves after a session.

After putting your clothes back on, you went out of the room ready to go to the car but not without bidding farewell from the spiteful bunch in the living room.

Ransom rolled his eyes at you and told you the directions to a club he wanted to go to. So you drove him. Even if he’s such an asshole, you’re still a decent person and it’s just right to watch over him after a long day with his family. You have to make sure that he gets home safe.

—

Sitting beside him in a bar, you watch him as he sips on his glass of alcohol that you don’t even know the name of but it sounds fancy. He turns to you, raising an eyebrow and nodding towards the bartender. “She’ll have a margarita.” The bartender nodded and began to make your drink. “I can’t drink. I’m driving, remember?” You raised a key to emphasize your point. He shook his head as he made an eye-roll. “Don’t be such a loser. I can drive. I handle my alcohol well.” He smirked at you when you scoffed at him. “Whatever” you smiled at the bartender politely as he placed the margarita in front of you. You took a sip and turned to look at Ransom when you see him eyeing a girl just a few seats away from you. You sighed and downed the glass in front of you. It’s going to be a long night.

—

You’ve never been this drunk. Ransom has never seen you like this and it made him quite amused because drunk Y/N is quite entertaining. You’re really loud when you’re drunk. It made him smile to see you finally letting loose. You’re always so stressed and so quiet all the damn time. He tries to help you as you do with him but he feels like he wasn’t really doing a good job. He’s noticed how you’ve been so distant lately and it scares the fuck out of him. He knows he’s not good for you and the closest thing he could ever be with you is by being your fuck buddy. If he was someone else, maybe he could’ve had a chance with you. He knows his reputation. He knows that you deserve someone better. But he’s happy that he gets to be with you even if it was something casual. It was a mutual benefit type of thing but it’s starting to fade and he’s scared that you would realize it and would want out. He’s terrified of losing you and his family didn’t help by trash-talking him in front of you. It just made him feel unaccepted. His family’s rejection, that he can take. But what if you start to realize that he’s not worth your time anymore? 

Calling you names while he pounds into you is his twisted way of trying to make you see that you can be perfect for him. If he manages to make you feel a bit belittled, maybe you can see that you’re perfect for each other? Maybe you can make your arrangement more serious and turn it into a relationship? Was that too much to ask?

— 

In your drunken state, you had no morals left. That’s why when a gorgeous woman walked up to Ransom, you lost it. Your shit, it’s completely gone. The girl gave Ransom a pretty smile and turned to you with a questioning look. 

“Hey, gorgeous. Who’s this?” Gosh! Even her voice is gorgeous. That annoyed the fuck out of you. She’s here for Ransom. You completely don’t stand a chance against someone like her. 

“I’m his whore” you slurred, too drunk to hear Ransom’s shocked “what?” as he looked at you incredulously.

“What?” The girl’s eyes widened as she looked between you and Ransom.

“Is she okay?” She asked him genuinely concerned.

“That’s what I am to you, right?” You poked his chest and laughed dryly. “A whore. A cockslut. A fucktoy!” You hissed but then cried silently after. 

“Fucking asshole” You scoffed and stood up, slapping Ransom’s hands away when he tried to steady you. You wobbled away from him and tripped but the girl was nice enough to catch you.

“You should probably take her home” the girl tried to walk you towards Ransom but you were able to pry yourself away from her before she could even do that. “No, no, no! I’m pretty sure you’re the one that he wants to bring home tonight. You’re probably enough for him. You’re the one for him. You’re gorgeous and nice and pretty and gorgeous. You’re perfect for him!” You made gigantic band gestures as you drunkenly pushed the girl towards Ransom. “Hey, Asshole! I think we should end whatever this is between us. I-I think I’m ready to be in a relationship. You can go and fuck off.” You wobbled away from them and towards a man that was nearby. He caught you and steadied you, laughing at your drunken state. “You alright?” He asks. “Yeah! You want to be my girlfriend? I mean you want me to be your girlfriend?” You giggled as he smiled at you. Before he could even answer, you pushed yourself away from him, just in time to vomit all over his shoes. You were about to say sorry but you passed out before you could even do so. 

Ransom ran towards you as you puked all over the poor man’s shoes, just in time to catch you when you passed out. He ignored his beating heart as he thought of your drunken confession. He also felt his world crumble down when you asked that guy to be your boyfriend even though you’re completely drunk when you did so. He carried you towards the car and as promised, he drove.

—

He carried you into his apartment, shooing the maid away as he carried you to his bedroom. He cleaned you up and made sure to leave a glass of water an Advil on the bedside table and he went over to the huge couch on the far corner of the room. He’ll have to have a serious talk with you tomorrow.

Hopefully, it will all go well.

—

Waking up was a fucking nightmare. Your head hurts and the worst thing is… You remember everything from last night. Every-fucking-thing. That’s not how alcohol works. The universe just likes to fuck with you. Sitting up, you turned to your side to see a glass of water and an Advil. Wait. Why were you in Ransom’s bedroom? 

You looked around in panic and gasped when you saw him laying down on the sofa. You made a quick movement as you drank the Advil and downed a glass of water. Why the fuck is he sleeping on a sofa?

“Why are you in such a panic?” Ransom sat up, rubbing his eyes tiredly. “You’re not afraid about having done something with me, are you? I mean, we’ve done it a lot of times and-” his laughs were cut off by your glare. “Okay. I’m kidding. I’m sorry.” He coughed and took a seat beside you. 

“Do you remember anything from last night?” He asked you nervously as if he was a child who has done something wrong and his parents are about to punish him. 

“Sadly, yes” you admitted with a sigh. You ran a hand down your face with a groan. “Just forget it.” You try to dismiss it but Ransom wasn’t having it. 

“I didn’t know- I… I- Do you have feelings for me?” He asked after a lot of stuttering. He was really nervous yet blatant for asking. 

“Fuck off” you muttered, not in the mood for his mockery. He grabbed your hands with his big ones and looked at you. “I’m being serious. Please tell me if you do.” You were surprised to see him acting this way. He’s never one to beg. He’s never one to show weakness. He’s always so focused on looking high and mighty so this is completely new.

“I… Yeah, Ransom. I do. And I also mean it when I said that we should stop whatever we’re doing. I really don’t want to keep on torturing myself. I don’t want to be your fuck buddy anymore.” You pulled your hands away from his and tried to get out of bed and towards the door but he stopped you.

“Please don’t leave me” he sobbed. You swear your heart stopped beating right then and there. 

“Please don’t leave. I need you. Not just in a fuck buddy kind of way. It may not seem like it but I care about you. I really do.” He stood up and slowly walked towards you with teary eyes. He grabbed your hands once again and sniffled.

“You’re the best thing that ever happened to me. Even if it wasn’t anything serious, I loved every moment I had with you. It was the closest thing that I’ll ever have with you so I… I thought you’d never go for a guy like me, Y/N. Forgive me if I made you feel like shit.” 

It was silent for a moment. 

“Please say something… Anything.”

“You’re such an asshole. Why are you only telling me this now?” You scoffed and punched his arm playfully. His wobbling lips turned into a smile as he grabbed you and pulled you into an embrace. 

“Because I’m stupid. That’s why.” He whispered against your neck. 

“You really are,” you said, earning a little laugh from him. You stayed in that position for a while before he pulled away from you. 

“Can we try this again? Forget all about the fuck buddy shit and let me take you out on a real date this time?” He raised his eyebrows, giving you a hopeful smile. 

You laughed at him and nodded. “I really like this version of you.” You say as you wrap your hands around his neck, smiling up at him. 

“Don’t get too used to it.” He smirked at you. You scoffed and tried to push yourself away from him but he held you in place. One of his hands on your lower back and the other at the back of your head. He looked down on you with a smile as he leaned down to brush his lips on yours. You went on your toes to reach him and seal the kiss as he moved his hands to pull you up to him, putting you in a more comfortable position. 

“I’ll be the best version of myself for you, Y/N. Only for you.”

– 

“Hey… Whatever happened to that pretty girl at the bar?” you asked as both of you cuddled on the sofa, watching some rom-com on the television. 

“Oh yeah… She was upset but she was… nice.” Ransom laughed at the memory.

“What happened?” you asked, curious about what he found funny.

“Well, he wasn’t amused by me after you’re big revelation…” you felt your body warm up in embarrassment as the memories flashed in your mind. Ransom grinned at you cheekily as he continued.

“Turns out, she wasn’t into me. She was into you. I remember her telling me something like, “If you don’t step up your game, I’ll get her. Treat her how she deserves to be treated.”. She was really scary but nonetheless, nice.” Ransom chuckled at the memory and you just stared at him with surprised eyes. 

“She’s into me? That pretty girl was into me?” you let out a laugh. “Who would’ve thought?” 

Ransom smiled, seeing your face with a genuine smile. 

“Yeah. And so is the guy that you puked on. He even asked me to give you his number. Fucking asshole… I threw his number right in the dumpster.” he scoffed at the memory and murmured the last sentence.

“I threw his number right in the dumpster.” 

“Wow…” you breathed out. “You’re an asshole too, you know that right?” you chuckled as you playfully hit his arm.

“Hey! I’m just not a fan of others eyeing you up. I’ve got a lot of competition here, Y/N.” he gave you a nod of appreciation which you rolled your eyes at.

“And if I were you, I’m going to step my game up like that girl said,” you smirked at his priceless reaction that turned into a smirk. 

“I know, I know. I have a lot of tricks up my sleeves. ‘Gonna give what my girl deserves.” he moves his face closer to yours, giving you a peck on the lips.

“Your girl?” you raised an eyebrow at him.

“Yeah! Sooner or later, you’ll be my girl, darling. Why not speed things up?” he smirked.

“You wish!” you scoffed and stood up from the couch, squealing and giggling when he grabbed you by the waist and pressed you up against his front. He pampered you with kisses all over your face, making you breathless with giggling continuously. 

“Stop it!” you breathed out between laughs. After a while, he did stop but you stayed in that position. With you on his lap, staring at each other. He leaned down as you stared at him with a smile, capturing your lips in a sweet kiss.

“All jokes aside, I’ll do whatever it takes for you to be my girl. I’ll wait as long as it takes. I’m lucky enough to have a second chance…” he leaned down to give you another peck and smiled at each other.

“You probably wouldn’t have to wait that long. I’m a sucker for you, you asshole.” you pecked his lips and when you pulled back, Ransom was sporting that widest grin and gleeful eyes.

a/n: this was supposed to be a drabble but wtf. HI ANON HOPEFULLY THIS SATISFIES YOU SKSKKSKS

taglist

General: @readermia @unlikelygalaxygiver @xoxabs88xox

Anything Chris: @patzammit

[jenniferxprentiss]

You Are In Love -> 9/?

chapter nine. three hearts.

Will had done exactly what Emily warned her he would do, told her he was coming and canceled a little under an hour before the appointment. The way he treated JJ and their unborn child never failed to fill Emily with a seething anger, heart racing and breath quickening at only the thought of him. She had to suppress a smile at the memory of the sickening crack when her fist connected with his face, easily one of the proudest moments of her adult life.

hi! okay. this has been SUCH A LONG WAIT for y’all. and I hope this little bit of fluff brings you all some joy as I get into the *real* plot of this fic. as always, the biggest of thank yous goes out to my group chat for always inspiring me and helping me with my writing — and reminding me to take breaks. without you all, this fic wouldn’t exist. so thank you. I love u all. ALSO. a oneshot & 2 chapters to fics in a weekend? y’all do be blessed.

tag list? tag list. lmk if u wanna be added xo. @jjsgirlfriend @whiskey-fluent @babyblockcolorcat @criminalmindsgonewrong @heat-waveee @anepiphany @j3mily @dont-trustyourfeelings @blakes-dictionxry @clockedstar @ellegreenawy

————

Fuck Will.

Fuck Will for being the deadbeat father she knew he was going to be, for stringing JJ along and never following through. Emily tapped her fingers impatiently against the steering wheel, stuck in bumper to bumper traffic — just her luck as she was trying to race across town to get to JJ before the sonogram, Will having stood her up.

She was so angry when JJ declined her offer to go with her in favor of Will, couldn’t describe the crushing hurt she felt. She tried to remind herself that she and JJ were nothing — not in a romantic way, at least, despite the stirring feelings she had been feeling for the other woman since she had moved in.

Another car cut her off and Emily slammed on the horn, yelling an obscenity out the window. She took a deep breath, remembered how sad and scared JJ sounded when she called, begging Emily to come to the sonogram only thirty minutes before her appointment.

Will had done exactly what Emily warned her he would do, told her he was coming and canceled a little under an hour before the appointment. The way he treated JJ and their unborn child never failed to fill Emily with a seething anger, heart racing and breath quickening at only the thought of him. She had to suppress a smile at the memory of the sickening crack when her fist connected with his face, easily one of the proudest moments of her adult life.

She swung her car into a space in front of the doctor’s office before jumping out and hastily shoving quarters into the parking meter. Emily took the stairs two at a time, burst into the waiting room and noticed that JJ wasn’t there, having already been taken back to an exam room. Her heart sped up at the thought of missing the appointment — of letting JJ down.

“Can I help you?” The receptionist directed a warm smile towards Emily, looked over her glasses at her and back to the computer screen. “First appointment?”

“I’m here for JJ — Jennifer Jareau.” Her words came out in a rush, heart still pounding and hands fidgeting.

The woman’s eyes lit up in understanding, nodding quickly as though she knew something before writing on a visitor’s badge for Emily. She handed it over, a knowing smile on her face as she watched Emily affix the sticker on her shirt.

“Your wife told me you’d be coming, said you’d probably be right on time. She’s through that door and in the first room on the left.”

“My — thank you.”

Emily couldn’t help the way her face heated up in a red hot blush at the way the receptionist said JJ was her wife. She knew it wasn’t anything they had done or said — most people don’t take their friend to the first sonogram after their ex-boyfriend cancels — but the implication still filled Emily’s stomach with a nervous flutter. She knocked on the exam room door, waited for a soft murmur from the technician before she opened the door slowly, stepping inside and shutting it behind her.

The sight of JJ reclined on the bed, towel thrown over her stomach made Emily’s stomach flip worse than it already was — her bright blue eyes wide and filled with nervous excitement. She barely registered the technician making a joke about showing up in the nick of time, smiled politely as she watched JJ mouth a silent thank you, her lips curling up into a wide grin.

“Are you guys ready to see your baby?”

Emily nodded hesitantly, stood dutifully at JJ’s side and let her fingertips graze her shoulder. She couldn’t look away from the blue of her eyes — the way her lips were still twitching up into a smile despite every tell that she was trying to fight it, trying to be as serious as possible. Her eyes were immediately drawn to the subtle swell of JJ’s stomach when the ultrasound technician removed the towel and squirted the gel onto her stomach, letting out a breathy laugh when JJ jumped at the temperature of the gel.

The small bump made her heart flutter, eyes transfixed on the slightly tanned skin, mind racing with all of the possibilities for the future — visions of an infant cooing in a crib while JJ looked down and sang. She felt a pang in her chest when she reminded herself that no, that may not be the life JJ wanted to give her child — and it was just that, hers, and not Emily’s. She was brought from her thoughts when JJ reached up, fingers wiggling until Emily grasped her hand and she visibly relaxed, only to tense up again when the technician pressed the wand to her gel covered stomach.

They both stared at the dark screen, eyes transfixed on the grey and black static until it finally focused — a little gummy bear of a baby jumping around on the screen. JJ let out a delighted gasp, lips curled into a grin as Emily wiped tears from her face. She hadn’t expected to be so affected by the image, but she already loved this little baby so much it hurt.

“There you go, mommies… there’s your baby.”

“Oh I’m not…” Emily started, hastily wiping at the tears that were rapidly falling down her face.

She wasn’t a mother, this wasn’t her baby — hell, JJ wasn’t even her girlfriend, merely a friend that lived with her and fell into her bed occasionally. A roommate, and she had already reasoned with herself that she would be beyond lucky to be able to co-parent and cohabitate with JJ and the baby at best — knew it may not be a likely scenario and didn’t want to get her hopes up, despite the excited flutter in her stomach she felt when she let herself sit and think about it for too long.

“Shut up. You’re mom too.”

“You guys make a great couple, I can already tell you’re going to be amazing parents.” The technician tapped at the keyboard before moving the wand around, pressing down on another spot. “I just have to grab a few more…”

“Take your time.”

JJ meant what she said — would have been content to sit there all afternoon and watch both the bouncing baby on the screen and the light in Emily’s eyes as she stared, completely transfixed by the image. It was a look JJ couldn’t quite decipher — love, she could tell, but a bit of something else that made her heart flutter and stomach flip. It was the same feeling she got when Emily’s fingers grazed hers in the car on the way to work, the giddy happiness in the pit of her stomach that no one else seemed to ignite.

“And I’ve got it. Thanks for being so patient with me, ladies.” The ultrasound technician pulled the wand from JJ’s stomach, wiping it clean before handing Emily a towel to clean the gel and a sheet of pictures. “I think that’s all for today… when you get cleaned up you can just check out and book your next appointment.”

They both murmured out a thanks as the technician stepped out of the room, Emily already wiping gently at JJ’s stomach and cleaning the gel off. It was like there was a trance between them — neither able to speak or look at each other, only the slight protrusion of JJ’s stomach as it really settled in that there was, in fact, a tiny baby growing inside of her.

“Emily…” JJ’s fingers grazed Emily’s wrist gently, looked up at her face and waited for their eyes to make contact before continuing. “Thank you. For everything… for coming, for doing this with me.”

“Jayje, you don’t even have to ask, you know I’ll always…”

“I meant it.”

“You — what…?”

There was a pause between them as Emily tried to decipher what JJ meant by her statement. Her eyebrows were knit together in a look of confusion, eyes half squinted in a way that made JJ let out a soft, airy laugh. After a moment, she reached up and let her thumb graze Emily’s cheek, smiling gently at her.

“Meant that you’re mom too, we’re doing this together… if you want to?”

It was a loaded question and they both knew it, and this wasn’t the place to have that sort of conversation. Emily knew she wanted to — wanted to raise this baby with JJ more than she had ever wanted anything, so badly that it scared her a little bit — but rationalized with herself that they should probably sit down over lunch and discuss it.

“We need to leave before they send another patient in.” She noticed the way JJ’s face fell, pressed a soft kiss to the top of her head before pulling her shirt down over her stomach and gently patting the bump. “Hey, this isn’t a no, it’s a we’re not having this conversation in this doctor’s office because I’ll cry. Come on, we both have the rest of the day off… I have plans for us.”

“Plans?”

JJ hopped off the table, letting her hand bump against Emily’s until she got the hint and laced their fingers together — fell into step beside her as they rounded the corner and walked to the checkout counter. They were understaffed for as many patients as they had, receptionists bustling around the circular desk as they tried to tend to everyone at once. Emily waved her wrist, signaled to them that they could take as long as they needed, before turning to JJ with a slight smile.

“I may have reserved a table at Olive Garden for us, and it’s right by this darling baby boutique I found on Facebook.”

She watched as JJ’s eyes lit up to that sparkling, shiny blue she adored so much, the way her smile reached her eyes and wrinkled her nose. It was endearing, the way her entire body seemed to thrum with every emotion, from the good to the bad, always feeling so deeply, so purely. Emily found herself hoping that the same energy — the same ability to feel so truly — would be passed on to the baby dancing about in her stomach.

“How do you always manage to make bad days better?”

“I just do, I guess.”

A receptionist hurried over to where they were standing, breaking them from their trance and snapping them back into the real world — a world where more existed than just the energy between the two of them. Emily couldn’t tear her gaze away from JJ’s subtle smile as she spoke to the woman, nodding enthusiastically, a few strands of shorter hair falling from her ponytail and shaking into her face.

JJ slipped the appointment card in her pocket as they walked out, entering the elevator hand in hand with giddy smiles on their faces. She almost hated the fact that they drove separately, wished she could sit beside Emily and bask in the happiness she was feeling, just be with her and present in the moment. There was never pressure with her — never any pressure to be more than she wanted to be, to carry on conversation when words seemed too hard — always content to just exist together.

Outside of the office, too many eyes on them, Emily found herself able to let out a breath she didn’t know she had been holding. She let herself look at JJ — truly look at her, the way her eyes were still shining and cheeks pinkened in what could only be described as a glow. The way her hair was falling in her face, having been shook free from the confines of her ponytail, was endearing — and Emily found herself gazing deep into JJ’s eyes as her fingers gently brushed the hair back out of her face.

The metallic grind of the elevator doors opening broke them from the moment, from their lips slowly gravitating towards each other as though pulled by magnetic force. They laughed, straightening up and walking out of the elevator, Emily’s hand on the small of JJ’s back as she guided her to her car just a few spaces away from her own.

“Follow me to the restaurant?”

“I’d follow you anywhere, Emily Prentiss.”

[plus-ultra-oneshots]

Nerd {BakugouXFemale!Reader}

Nerd

BakugouXFemale!Reader Oneshot

-Reader is very shy-

"... you afraid of me or something?"

.:+:.

"Load up and sit down. The bus will be leaving shortly."

Everyone clamored into the bus in an excited rush, stuffing their bags away in the undercarriage and bringing their carry-ons with them. Pillows, blankets, books, music- the works. All things they wanted to have with them the seven or so hours the bus ride was gonna take in order to get to the offsite training facility you would all be staying at for the week. Most everyone was excited about it, and you were too, though a bit nervous regardless.... You were always nervous about something though.

You sat down in a seat near the window in the middle of the bus, hands folded in your lap and headphones hung around your shoulders, connected to your DS. You were probably gonna spend the whole ride playing a game and keeping to yourself. You usually did, you weren't very social and you were very quiet... To be honest you'd not really talked to any of your classmates all that much. Asui and Kouda were the only two people you were even really comfortable around, because they were fairly and quiet and laid back like you.

Anyone in the class who was bubbly or loud, you didn't really feel comfortable around... It was just too much, so you stayed away from commotion. And it didn't have to be someone who had done something to you or anything- pretty much ANYONE who was loud, confrontational or just super angry or mean looking set you on edge in no time at all. Which is not really an attitude a Pro Hero should have maybe, but you couldn't help it. You'd always been shy, your whole life, and a part of you have hoped that coming to UA would help make you less shy... It didn't really seem to have done much so far.

You saw Asui take up a seat next to Ururaka, and Kouda took a familiar spot beside Tokoyami. You averted your eyes from watching people file in (with Iida directing everyone... Or at least attempting to), the whole bus a wash of noise and conversation all around. You glanced out the window, and toward the sky overhead, watching a few birds fly passed and disappear behind the tall and looming figure of the Main UA Building.

You were aware of someone taking a silent seat beside you, though you didn't glance up for a few seconds as you saw Mr. Aizawa outside the bus and saying something to Mr. Present Mic... You couldn't honestly hear them or read their lips if you tried, and besides- that's eavesdropping.

You glanced left to see who it was that had taken the seat next to you only out of curiosity, and your heart felt like it nearly leapt from your chest.

B-Bakugou...?!

You jumped, your body turning slightly as your back hit the window and pinned you there as you reflexively scooted backwards from him as much as was humanly possible. You let out a none too flattering yelp of surprise and those narrowed, angry red eyes of his shifted toward you as he scowled.

W-why did he sit next to me...?!

"Tch... What the hell is your problem?" He grumbled hotly, your heart skipped another beat at the less than happy look on his face and the steely glare he set on you. You visibly wilted under the intense stare, your limbs pulled toward you and backed against the window- and words failed you entirely as he waited for a reply... and only seemed to get more aggravated when you failed to give one. "Oi, why are you staring at me like that? You look like I'm gonna blow your head off." He muttered lowly, and you took in a sharp breath of air at what sounded dangerously close to a threat in your mind.

O-oh my god... I'm gonna die... why did he sit next to ME of all people...!?

You sucked in a smaller, sharper breath of air and swallowed, hard. He was still waiting and you felt like your life possibly depended on giving him at least some reply that might make him not wanna... snap at... you...

"...U...uh...uhm... n-nothing..." You managed (somehow) to stammer, averting your eyes from him quickly and doing your best not to look at him at all- that might set him off, and you wanted nothing less than that. You attempted to shift your back from the window and sit in your seat properly, but you were still pushed up against the glass with your shoulder and as far from him as you could be. It was uncomfortable, and would be for the duration of the trip, but worth it. Your heart was pounding in your chest and a cold drop of sweat seemed to fall down your spine as you swallowed again, and your breathing halted for a few seconds, hoping maybe that would calm you down... though the pounding of your heart in your ears getting faster indicated it did not help.

Bakugou shot you a narrowed stare for a few seconds more as you adjusted, before clicking his tongue and looking forward and crossing his arms over his chest with a huff. "Tch... Whatever.." He muttered under his breath, his tone icy and the sound of it made you stiffen, though your eyes remained locked on the seat in front of you and frozen there. You might have tried to catch the gaze of one of your classmates and sent them a silent plea for help- and maybe convince someone into offering to switch seats with you- but you couldn't break your eyes from the chair, and you felt trapped further being on the inside seat with Bakugou to bar your way.

T-this... oh my god why me...? I'm gonna spend the whole ride stiff as a board... I can't relax with him next to me...!

You shut your eyes and wrung your hands together in your lap, letting out the breath you were holding slowly and doing your best not to fidget as everyone settled in, and the bus began to roll forward in very little time.

It's fine, (Y/N)... you're gonna be fine... you'll just sit here, nice and quiet and not moving, and not bothering him... not for the whole... seven hour... trip...

You bit the inside of both cheeks and stifled the grumble in the back of your throat,

It's fine... you can do this... believe in you..! ... me...?

Oh... I'm gonna die. Today is the day... damn it... WHY ME..!?

To your credit, you stayed perfectly still for a long while after the bus started moving, regardless of how much your muscles strained and your back started to hurt from sitting up so straight and being so stiff. And the whole while your stomach and your core seemed to twist into a million different knots just out of sheer nervousness- which was a feeling you were familiar with, but it seemed to have been amped up to times ten given who it was that was sitting beside you. You'd never been this worked up nor stressed in your life, and all he was doing was sitting next to you!

I hate this... I just... I can't help it...!

Your body wouldn't listen to you and unwind no matter how much you tried to rationalize and calm yourself down. It was just unconsciously stiff and even if you were actively trying to keep from leaning close to him, your body would have kept you forcefully leaned in the other direction anyway. It was just something you did without knowing it, you always leaned one way or another when someone sat next to you. And if you were between two people, you kept in your own space as much as you could and scarcely moved at all.

The general hum and murmur of the people around you talking became nothing but a low drone in the back of your mind as you poured all of your focus into sitting still. And time seemed to drag on forever as you sat there, silent, motionless, and with your eyes closed and hardly daring to breathe. Time passed long enough though that the noise of your classmates talking to each other died out, at least mostly.

"... Oi, (Y/N), why are you sitting like that?"

Your breathing halted altogether as your eyes shot open, panic and surprise racing anew at the sound of Bakugou's voice on your left and the growl in it... But most of all at the sound of your name on his lips.

W-wait a minute, he knows my name...?!

I didn't think he hardly knew I was in this class, let alone my name...!

A-And he... He's asking me why I'm so stiff...?! W-was he watching me...?!

Your eyes darted sideways toward Bakugou and your heart did another leap when you caught his eyes the instant you did so. He was watching you intently, eyes narrowed and lips pulled into a tight line that bordered a frown as he quirked a brow at the very clear nervousness, and even borderline franticness that appeared in you when he addressed you.

"Seriously, what is your problem? You act like I'm fucking contagious or something." He muttered lowly, you gulped.

"N-nothing...! I... It's really nothing, I'm sorry if I'm... Uh... Bothering you...!" You stammered quickly, apologizing to him as his eyes narrowed further. "... I... Uhmm... I'm just a little tense is all... It's not a big deal...! And I-i don't think you're contagious or anything...! Of course now, w-why would I...?" Your hands wrung together as your eyes darted from him and toward them and then toward the seat and all things in between. "... well, uh... a-actually I'm a little surprised you k-know my name...? N-not that that is super important or anything, I just got caught off guard by it and you saying it o-out of nowhere...!" You were rambling now in the fit of your own nervousness and panic, and he frowned slightly as you continued to ramble on and on and without seeming to relax in the slightest. "Y-yeah, I'm just a little tense, b-but that's normal...! Am I bothering you..? C-cause I can shut up now, I wouldn't wanna make you m-mad or anything..!" You went on softly, "I-i really don't-"

"Stop!" Bakugou ordered sharply and you reflexively jumped at the sudden harshness in his tone. Your eyes snapped shut as you shrunk away from him, and your shoulders hunched slightly as you held your hands together in front of you.

"S-Sorry...!" Your voice was quiet and almost meek in the apology, and he blinked several times at the reaction when he raised his voice at you. Your posture seemed almost... defensive?

His jaw dropped the tiniest bit as his red eyes quickly scanned over your composure and the small, faint little inklings of fear in your face. He noticed the way you tried to put more space between the both of you, and seeing as how you were pressed against the window you almost looked like a cornered animal. There was a short pause of silence as he just took you in, before his jaw closed again and he grimaced, his eyes flashing as he seemed to take in a silent breath of air.

He was used to people being uneasy when he snapped at them, and he expected no less from you since you seemed so damned shy. But your reaction wasn't just shyness or unease like he expected- this was fear.

Fear

"... you afraid of me or something?" He muttered slowly, you stiffened at the question, your eyes snapping open and toward him, before flitting away almost sheepishly.

"O-oh... uhm... no... o-of course not..." You stammered quickly, and less than convincing as his lips pulled into a tight line and he seemed to grumble to himself at the answer.

"I'm not gonna murder you, ya know." Bakugou mumbled lowly, you swallowed, your words cutting off as you blinked at him. He let out an annoyed huff and turned away from you, facing front and letting his eyes drop closed as he crossed his arms about his chest. He slumped a little in his seat, leaning slightly in the direction away from you- subtly, just a little, and so little you barely noticed it, but he definitely did it... heh? W-What..?

"Tch... quit being such a weirdo and relax." He ordered, his tone low but his voice not raising in the slightest. "I'm not gonna kill you, and you don't need to act like a cornered rabbit. Just ignore me and stop being so freakin' tense."

You blinked, once, twice, and then several times over as your flitting gaze finally managed to stop moving and locked on to him. Your mind was whirling and the sudden shift in attitude from him, and the instructions to 'relax' caught you completely off guard.

Because... well, what? That response from him just didn't seem like him. You completely expected him to snap at you for rambling (and he kinda did) and being annoying and he should have blown a fuse with you like he was so prone to doing with everyone and everything. You'd seen him set off explosions at the most trivial and little things, and damn near get in an all out fist-fight with other students just because they 'looked at him funny' or 'said something stupid'. He had the shortest fuse and near to no patience with anyone, and your shy and fumbling personality was the very sort of thing that he was known to hate.

And knowing that, and your already lacking constitution with abrasive people (like him)- you were petrified of pissing him off to the point he'd blow up at you like he did with literally almost everyone else... and you probably would die if he ever decided to treat you like he seemed to treat Midoriya. The green-haired boy seemed to catch the brunt of Bakugou's ire at all times, and it was (admittedly) a fear of yours that that same sort of ire might ever be targeted at you.

And he seemed annoyed right now, as to be expected- but it wasn't explosive annoyance. In fact he sort of seemed like he was trying to be calm...? And maybe even assure you...? Had you maybe offended him when it was clear you were a little afraid of him? But didn't offending Bakugou spell for getting your head snapped off and possibly punched?

But he seemed to try and... And not be aggressive about it? At least a little?

B...but... WHAT? I... I'M SO CONFUSED, WHAT THE FUCK...?!

You were failing to come up with a rational explanation for the behavior, and for it you were failing to just do anything. So you just sat there and stared at him, and you probably looked like an idiot and were apt to actually piss him off... But it was like your mind derailed and you froze.

What was that thing you'd seen on the Internet before...?

'(Y/N).exe has stopped responding'?

Bakugou seemed quite aware of your staring without ever having to open his eyes, and his lips pulled downward at the edges as he seemed to bite back his rising agitation. "... Quit staring." he muttered lowly, his tone a borderline growl and you were snapped from your stunned stupor, your heart speeding up at the words. You quickly averted your eyes and sat back in your seat, hands fidgeting around your DS in your lap and nodding stiffly.

"..y...yeah...s..sorry..." You mumbled quietly, chewing the inside of your cheek in nervousness as you fumbled with your headphones and put them in... Whilst also forcing your body to try and lose some of it's tension, though it did you little good.

.... Uh... Somehow I think I avoided death at the hands of Bakugou today...? Somehow... I really don't get it...

You tried to pour your focus on starting up the device and the game loaded into it, but you felt knotted up and your heart was pounding.

...buuuuut, I think I need to just... Just focus on something else before I have a stroke or something...!

You bit the inside of both cheeks and set every ounce of will and brainpower and focus onto the game, trying to block out the world and manage some way of forgetting the blonde on your left. And hoping that doing so, would help make you feel less like a ball of yarn that had been twisted and knotted up to all seven sorts of hell.

And much to your relief, after awhile you got absorbed in the game and hardly thought about Bakugou or the bus or anyone else on it. Your fingers worked in deft movement as you pressed the button and moved the small joystick around, and your mind falling further and further into the fictional world and story you (as the character) were playing through. That stylus was pinned lightly between your index and middle finger when not needing it- and moved over the touch screen on the bottom in swift, precise strokes when the time called for it. You hadn't any semblance of how much time had dragged passed and your body had fallen out of the bulk of it's stiff posture unconsciously as you played. And due to the headphones you had in, you couldn't hear anything that might be going on in the bus around you.

You'd almost completely forgotten about everything and everyone else before a small tap on your shoulder dragged your mind from the game and threw you back into reality. You reflexively turned the sound down so you could hear without pulling your headphones out, and were in the midst of turning your head to whoever had tapped you when you heard Bakugou's low voice.

"What in the hell are you playing? You look like a mutt." He grumbled, and you blinked, stiffening in surprise as you caught his eye. He had leaned back in your direction at some point, and was almost leaning with his elbow on the arrest between you two- in the position he would need to be to be able to watch you as you played your game...

...uh... Was he watching me play...?

"... Uhm... Well I sort of am a dog...? W-well, not me but the main character... And he's not a dog really, he's actually a wolf pup... Who's sort of the son of a wolf god..." You explained quickly, though to be honest you were surprised you managed to answer as calmly as you did. "... It's a game called Okamiden, it's a sequel to another game called Okami... The premise of it is that you go around with a Celestial Brush and bring life back to the world..." You trailed off, chewing the inside of your cheek in part nervousness, and part embarrassment. He probably didn't need an entire explanation, and it was likely to piss him off again if you started to ramble... Besides, it was a game, you needn't talk about it like you were obsessed or anything.

"You're fighting things too." he pointed out, and you paused.

"... Yeah... Imps and demons and stuff like that..." you mumbled uncertainly, not really sure why the conversation had persisted...?

You fidgeted a little, your attention on him instead of your game for a few seconds, and somewhat failing to register the fact that your thumb was still pressed against the joystick, and little Chibitarasu was moving without you paying any mind to him.

"... You're gonna die if you don't pay attention." Bakugou pointed out, directing your eyes to the screen and you jumped when you saw it filled with a band of enemies.

"... O-oh crap..!" You hissed under your breath, quickly pressing buttons and getting back into it, enough to keep yourself alive (not that this game was super intense or anything), but not enough to miss the fact that Bakugou was definitely watching you play. He said absolutely nothing as you took care of the enemies and you tapped the pause button, glancing his way cautiously as he met your gaze when he noticed you looking.

"... What?" He mumbled,

"... Uh... N-nothing I guess... I'm just surprised you're even interested...?" you stammered softly, he let out a sigh and stuck his cheek in the palm of his hand as he leaned into it.

"There's nothing else to do on this stupid bus." he muttered tartly, "And you are sitting right there." He pointed out lowly, you swallowed a bit and nodded.

"...r...right..." You mumbled, averting your eyes again as he seemed to huff at you.

"I told you to quit being so tense already." he muttered, you nodded quickly though the words did nothing to get rid of the nervousness that hit you anew at the unexpected spur of conversation- and it got worse when there came and incredible awkward silence where neither you nor Bakugou did or said anything. You weren't looking at Bakugou to know, but you were sure you could hear his blood slowly beginning to boil with your less than graceful social skills.

What even possessed him to ask you anything? Wasn't he the one that said ignore him? So why did he even try and start any semblance of a conversation?

I just... I hate talking to people I am so bad at it, but I'm worse with him...

"... Tch... So what's with 'wolf god'?" He asked, earning your surprised eyes again as he gave you a look that seemed almost stubborn, and a little uncertain. "You said the mutt had a 'god' for a parent, yeah?" You shifted a little, swallowing back your surprise and your nervousness to the best of your ability.

I'm reading this wrong, right...?

I have to be... cause it almost seems like...?

"... uhm... do you want me to... to explain the game to you...? And the lore and stuff...?" You asked slowly, your eyes narrowing at him as your mind whirled and you watched him- closely. Because this seemed... out of the norm for him, and in some way he seemed a little unsure of himself- like he was doing something he wasn't used to...

... like maybe... is he... trying to be friendly...?

No way, right...? This is Bakugou... he doesn't care about being 'nice'...

"... might as well, I have nothing better to do." He murmured, settling in a bit more into leaning against the armrest and about as calm and neutral-faced as was possible. Your eyes went wide though,

H-he actually wants me to talk to him...?! And about a video game...?!

I... I think he IS trying to be friendly, what the hell..?!

You were so shocked at his answer that you failed to reply right away, and there came another awkward pause in the conversation that he seemed to grumble at- though only just.

"...Tch... don't look so freaked out, I'm bored and you know a lot about this game, yeah? You've been sucked into it for the last hour." He mumbled, "So just talk about it, maybe rambling will help you relax and not look like a stiff stone statue... seriously, you bein' so tense is irking me."

"...Uh... o-okay..." You mumbled, swallowing a bit as your eyes darted from him and toward your game for a moment. "... I... uh... I'll try... but...uhmm... Bakugou...?"

"What?" He muttered, a brow quirking.

"... you sure me rambling isn't gonna... irk you more...?" You asked tentatively, your fingers tapping nervously against the edges of your DS. He blinked at the question, frowning a bit to himself as he seemed to hold back on letting out an aggravated huff.

"I wouldn't tell you to talk if I thought you were gonna piss me off, so just talk." He replied lowly, though internally he muttered to himself something along the lines of 'you idiot'... though given it was clear there was little he did that didn't make you look ready to have a heart attack, he refrained from saying that out loud.

"... uh... okay... so... where to start..." You mumbled, near all to yourself as you did your best to settle the whirling of your head and your thoughts- and your nerves too- but all of this was just about waaaaaaaay off base for what you expected from him... like ever.

You weren't even sure you could imagine a world where he would try to be any sort of 'friendly' with anyone, let alone you- and yet there wasn't another explanation you could come up with for the sudden turn in events. And that just made you all the more nervous and flustered to boot. Again, you SUCKED at talking to people, it came with the territory of being as painfully shy as you were. And this?

This is waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay out of my comfort zone, damn it!

You sucked in a breath of air and held it, doing your best to cast off the nagging thoughts and telling yourself you needed to relax, somehow. Relax just a little and just start talking, because maybe if you did that- maybe he would be right- and you might relax because you were talking about something you were familiar with.

... I hope...

You swallowed back the lump in your throat and pulled one headphone from your ear. And then you started talking, your voice shaky and soft and for a minute you were afraid he might not be able to even hear you. But there was little space between you two, and the bus was pretty quiet by now so there was little an issue on that end. You started in from the sort of start, beginning with the game's predecessor and explaining the characters and the higher lore of the game, breaking off here and there and everywhere to explain things when the thought occurred, and jumping between this specific topic and that so much it was probably impossible to follow with what you were saying. But he didn't say anything, and in reality he just listened, his expression flat and giving nothing away as you went on, but he didn't look bored, at least... or at least, you didn't think so?

The more you talked the more tangents you broke off on, and the more you lost track of where you had originally intended to be steering the conversation. You didn't notice, and Bakugou never corrected you either. And after awhile he interjected, but only to ask a question. Being interrupted out of nowhere made you jump, and you hated yourself for the reaction, but he didn't pause and he asked what he wanted, with you doing your best to come up with the best and most explanatory answer you could muster. After the first question, there came a few more here and there, and with every occurrence you grew less and less nervous at him saying anything at all. It was pretty clear to him you stopped just explaining things, because your voice got a little firmer and you sounded less like a stuttering Wikipedia page on the subject. You started to talk about the things you liked and with more vigor and excitement, and you mentioned the things that bothered you and the things you 'loved'- and then things broke away from the game itself and started toward the fan content that came with it.

The art was the thing you seemed to light up the most about. Both the art in the game and online had your eyes gleaming and all sense of your constant nervousness seemed to melt as you talked about it, and he just listened, quiet and content.

At some point you reverted back to the game itself and started playing it again while simultaneously talking to him all the while. Pointing things out and explaining the mechanics and the like, and he watched and listened with the same rapt attention he had had the whole time, and he didn't seem bothered, or annoyed, or bored at all... which surprised you the whole way through, but a part of you felt pleasantly surprised with it.

You'd been talking the whole way through the next few hours until the sun outside started to sink and the world was bathed in a low, orange light flooding in through the windows. You reached the end of your very lengthy spiel and smiled in embarrassment as your explanations and whatnot came to a close, and your shyness flooded back in after being absent.

"... ah... I think that's about all I can really say about it... sorry if I talked your ear off.. I realize that was a lot all at once, heh..." You told him quickly, your eyes breaking from your game and finding him as he blinked at you once, before his lips twitched at one corner in a lopsided, and almost lazy smirk.

"... hmmph... you're such a nerd." He murmured quietly, his tone a little rough but not annoyed. It wasn't an insult or anything, it sounded like a tease and your eyes flashed as surprise hit you straight on. You glanced away from him quickly and back toward your game, your cheeks flushing a little as you felt your face heat up and grumbled internally as you tried to smile and offer up a laugh,

"U-uh.. yeah, I guess I am a little..." You murmured softly, but you felt awkward as all hell and bit the inside of your cheek. He didn't say anything after that and silence settled down between the two of you as you played the game awhile longer, ever aware that Bakugou was still watching you in silence. You cast him a sideways glance only to find his eyes on your game and not your face, and you chewed on the inside of your cheek.

You were entirely sure he was attempting to be friendly with the whole striking up a conversation thing, even if that seemed an impossible and unbelievable idea when concerning him. And while you weren't entirely sure why he would do such a thing, a part of you thought maybe it had been because of how incredibly clear it was that you were nervous and even scared around him, and even of him.

Not that you could understand why he would care, anyhow- but that was what your mind had come up with for an answer for this whole situation, and there was some feeling in your gut that made you think you might be right.

I just... I have a hard time wrapping my head around that... or any of this really...

The orange light of sunset outside shone against his pale blonde hair and turned it a brand of yellow-orange that was so warm in color, and you blinked.

... though... maybe today taught me a lesson... that he's not as bad as I've imagined him to be. And maybe I don't have to be so scared of him either... he seems capable of being calm and some amount of pleasant, enough so even I was talking for a long while... that never happens...

You glanced back to your game and your shoulders sagged slightly as you put a little more focus in the playing, though your mind still wandered. Despite the very unwanted situation of being stuck sitting next to him, and the near panic-attack you'd been having about it for the first hour or so... things had gone better on the ride than you could have imagined. Weird and shocking, no doubt... but better than you could have hoped, and you were admittedly more relaxed with that blonde boy sitting next to you right now than you could have imagined you would be in about a million freakin' years.

He just seemed so loud and rude and daunting all the time, you know? He was always in such a foul mood and his behavior around the class and with your classmates hadn't done him any credit nor made you inclined to liking him, or ever thinking you could get along with him. And sitting with him on a 7 hour bus ride? No way! Talking to him, and for as long as you did? Not a chance! Finding a sort of content silence between the two of you? Content? Never! And he's not actually an all around abrasive, and brutish person who gets set off at every little thing? Are we even talking about the same guy?!

... and yet all of those things had happened, and you were no small amount of surprised about it.

So admittedly... Bakugou wasn't as scary as you thought. He'd proved that today, and what a turn it was.

So that content silence you mentioned lasted awhile longer as you played the game, and all the way up until the time the DS died on you, and you were subsequently forced to put your faithful companion away. You briefly thought about asking Kaminari to use his Quirk and charge it for you, but a quick glance back you found him several rows away and completely conked out... most of the other students on the bus were asleep too, or otherwise sitting quietly and minding themselves.

You shut the lid on the DS and held it lightly between both hands and in your lap, your eyes trailing to your left and toward Bakugou when he shifted and sat up a little straighter. He was well aware you were done and he seemed content to be quiet still, and you paused as he stretched a little.

"... Bakugou...?" You murmured softly, uncertainly almost- you weren't sure you should say anything, but to be honest- you started talking without any chance to stop yourself. He didn't look your way, his eyes were closed as he rolled his shoulders and bit and gave you little but a small 'hmm?' in reply to you having said his name.

"... thank you... for listening... talking helped..." You murmured softly, he paused at your thanks, almost surprised by it as his narrowed eyes moved toward you. You offered up a small, gentle, and still very nervous smile, but it wasn't strained, and he sighed.

"... yeah, well- I told you I wasn't gonna kill you." He mumbled, almost hotly, and lacking a bit in social grace enough that you got that feeling he was a little out of his element again. You smiled a bit more and nodded at him though,

"Yeah." You hummed softly, he crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back in his seat all the way, grumbling something incoherent in reply to you but nothing else. He seemed to want to drop the subject and you were okay with that, so you looked away smiled softly to yourself for a little while as your eyes dropped closed.

... this is not how I could have imagined this bus ride to go... hmmm... I'm not complaining though...

You were faintly aware of the orange light of sunset fading on the other side of your eyelids, but you also hardly cared either as your mind seemed to tilt toward an abyss and quickly fall into it. Before you knew it, the world around you and the bus got lost into black waves of nothing as consciousness left you behind and what lingering tension in your body melted away altogether.

Bakugou heard your breathing deepen and slow, and he knew you were asleep long before he ever spared a glance your way. The sun dropped all the way out of the sky and twilight was setting in fast as the ever darkening world outside the window went by and the inside of the bus grew all the more dim with it. His red eyes reflected what little light was left as he let out a small sigh and let his eyes fall again.

He'd not done so for more than a few minutes or so, before he felt something bump against his shoulder an his eyes snapped open in reaction to it. He glanced quickly right, and stiffened slightly to see your head tilted and resting against his shoulder out of nowhere. You were still fast asleep and gave no indication of waking up as your posture melted a little more and your head rest against him like he was the most comfortable pillow in the world- and he bit the inside of his cheek as his eyes narrowed at you.

He paused for a few seconds, staring at you (what little he could see of your face with the angle you and he were at now) and your hair brushing lightly against his shoulder and neck. He frowned a little, grumbling to himself as he shook his head a little but shifted so he was closer to you and leaning against the armrest between the both of you again. His eyes locked forward with his arms still crossed over his chest as you slept on with your head resting against his shoulder, and Bakugou seemed to bite the inside of his cheek. But he resigned himself to sitting there and not pushing you off regardless of how annoyed he might have looked on the outside- because damned if he would do that after all that stupid 'friendly' shit he'd been doing to try and get you to relax.

His jaw clenched a little as he let out a long, low sigh.

"...tch... what a nerd..."

.:+:.

.:+:.

I hope you all enjoyed it! Thank you for reading!

MasterList Right Here

[enchantedlokii]

The Last Great American Dynasty

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: mentions of death, mentions of terrorism

Characters: Pepper Potts, Tony Stark, Dum-E, JARVIS, James Rhodes, Happy Hogan, Peter Parker, Morgan Stark, Lila Barton, Shuri, Harley Keener, Cassie Lang, EDITH

Mentioned: U, Butterfingers, Howard Stark, The Mandarin, Aldrich Killian

“Rebekah rode up on the afternoon train, it was sunny. Her saltbox house on the coast took her mind off St. Louis. Bill was the heir to the Standard Oil name and money. And the town said, ‘How did a middle-class divorcée do it?’”

Pepper’s heels clicked as she made her way down the long stairwell. She smirked when she saw what Tony was up to. The man was arguing with one of the robots that helped around the lab, pointing at it and scolding it like a child. “Be nice to Dum-E, Tony,” she reprimanded, stepping into the workshop. “You’ll hurt his feelings.”

Tony gaped at her, grabbing his chest dramatically. “I’ve been betrayed,” he gasped. “You’re supposed to be on my side, Pep.”

Pepper rolled her eyes and set the paperwork down on the desk he was sitting at. She couldn’t stop herself from leaning over for a kiss. A few years ago, she would have laughed at anyone who suggested she had a thing for her boss. Now it was common knowledge that the two were together.

“Are we going for a drive?” She asked, looking over at the row of cars. “Maybe drive down to the ocean? Find somewhere private?”

“Because it’s not private here?” Tony asked, raising an eyebrow. “Last I checked, it’s just the two of us.”

“The two of us, JARVIS, Dum-E, U, Butterfingers,” she listed, looking over at the robot that was now distracted picking up spilled parts. “Let’s go somewhere that it’s really just the two of us. No tech. No suits.” She glanced over at the line of different suits enclosed in glass. “Just us.”

And that’s how Pepper found herself wanting her life to be. It wasn’t always easy being the girlfriend of someone like Tony Stark. They were never truly alone. There was always paparazzi or agents or someone watching them. And people liked to talk. They liked to twist words and create tales. And she understood it when she first started working for Stark Industries. The company was none for the scandals and the questionable decisions that Tony made, and before him, Howard. But that was before.

Not everyone could see that Tony had changed, but she could. She knew that he was different now. She knew that he cared for her and that he wanted nothing more than to protect her. His eyes sparkled now as he looked at her. “Okay,” he breathed. “Let’s go.”

“The wedding was charming, if a little gauche. There’s only so far new money goes. They picked out a home and called it ‘Holiday House.’ Their parties were tasteful, if a little loud. The doctor had told him to settle down. It must have been her fault his heart gave out.”

“You okay, Tony?”

Tony glanced over his shoulder and saw that Rhodey had came in. He had a red tux on that Tony had picked out for him to wear. Happy had a similar one on. But there was another matching tux hanging on the closet. “I’m okay,” he replied, giving his friend a small smile. “Just. . . He was supposed to be here.”

Rhodey frowned, glancing over at the suit. He looked back at Tony and walked over, putting a hand on his shoulder. “He wouldn’t want you to be upset,” Rhodey reminded him, crouching down to be level with him as he sat. “You know he’s here in spirit. He’ll be watching, and I bet his cheers will be the loudest of all.”

Tony smiled and hugged his friend. “Thanks, Rhodey,” he whispered, his voice shaking. “I-I think I’m ready.”

“Great,” Rhodey replied, holding out a hand to help him up. “Let’s get you out there.”

Tony could feel his heart pounding as he let Rhodey lead him outside. Everyone turned to look at him, smiling. His chest ached. It always ached some, but more than usual now. Because there were empty seats in the crowd. They had lost.

He stepped off the porch, glancing back at the beautiful home behind him. He loved the lake house, and so did Pepper. It was safe, tucked away in the woods of Upstate New York. It was a great place to raise their unborn daughter.

But not even the beauty of the home compared to how Pepper looked when she finally stepped out, a veil covering her ginger hair. The tight-fitted dress made her small bump visible, and she held one arm around it protectively. She would do whatever it took to protect her child. And so would he.

“And they said: There goes the last great American dynasty. Who knows, if she never showed up, what could’ve been. There goes the maddest woman this town has ever seen. She had a marvelous time ruining everything.”

“Mommy!”

Pepper forced a smile as Morgan ran towards her, a wide smile on her face. She crouched down and held out her arms, pulling the girl close to her chest and stroking her hair. She didn’t even realize she was crying until a sob escaped her throat. How was she supposed to explain to her baby that her dad wasn’t coming home?

“Mommy, why you crying?” Morgan asked, looking up at her with wide eyes. “What’s wrong?”

“Sweetie,” Pepper choked out, pulling Morgan closer once again. “Y-you know how sometimes bad things happen? H-how Daddy has to help fix them?”

“Yeah,” Morgan said quietly.

“Morgan. . . Baby, he went to go help. You know that. He went to try to bring Peter home. You remember him telling you that, right?” she asked.

“Mommy, I’m scared,” Morgan whimpered. Pepper only held on tighter, unable to stop the streams of tears that spilled into her daughter’s hair.

“I’m sorry, Baby. Daddy’s not coming home.”

“Rebekah gave up on the Rhode Island set forever. Flew in all her B*tch Pack friends from the city. Filled the pool with champagne and swam with the big names. And blew through the money on the boys and the ballet. And losing on card game bets with Dalí.”

Morgan looked up as someone knocked on the door. She abandoned the project she was working on when she thought she heard her mother moving upstairs. “I’ve got it, Mom!” she called, walking over to the door and swinging it open. She smiled when she saw the familiar faces.

“Morgan!” One of the girls spoke up first; Lila. She was a lot older than Morgan. Most of them were, but their parents were friends. They grew up together. Morgan was smarter than most girls her age, anyway, so they didn’t mind.

One by one, her friends stepped inside. Until one stopped in front of her. “Hey, M,” the boy said softly. He was just a bit taller than her despite being so much older. “How are you, Little Miss?”

Morgan smiled and moved to hug him. “Hey, Petey,” she murmured, pressing her face against his chest. “I’m good. I’m really good.”

“Peter! Morgan! Come on!”

Morgan turned as Shuri waved them over. Her hair was wrapped in a tight bun, and she was pulling her shirt over her head to reveal her green bathing suit. “Let’s go!”

“Okay! Okay!” Morgan called, grabbing Peter’s hand and pulling him over. She made sure to give him a tight squeeze before letting him move to talk to Harley while she joined Lila, Shuri, and Cassie.

The girl pulled the oversized MIT shirt over her head to reveal the red-and-gold bathing suit she was wearing underneath. She grinned widely, heading towards the back door. “Avengers!” All the others looked up at her curiously. “Assemble!”

“And they said: There goes the last great American dynasty. Who knows, if she never showed up, what could’ve been. There goes the most shameless woman this town has ever seen. She had a marvelous time ruining everything.”

Morgan huffed as she dropped the box in her uncle’s trunk. She turned to make sure he wasn’t looking before peeking inside and making sure the nanobot casing was still inside. She grinned and patted it before closing the box back and pushing it against the back of the seat.

“Alright, Morgan, I think this is the last of it,” Rhodey called, carrying a box out of the house. Happy was behind him, talking quietly with Pepper. She silently wished that Peter was here with them, but he stopped by the day before to give her a hug and wish her luck.

“Good,” Morgan said, smiling as Rhodey put the box with the others. “We should probably go ahead and leave then, yeah?”

“Yeah, if we want to get there before dark,” Rhodey agreed, putting an arm around her shoulders and pulling her into a side hug. “Go tell Pep and Happy bye.”

Morgan nodded and ran up the steps to stand in front of the two. “Well,” she started. “This is it.”

Pepper smiled and ran a hand through Morgan’s long hair. “I’m gonna miss you, Baby Girl,” she murmured before pulling her into a hug. “Your dad would be so proud of you. You know that, right?”

Morgan just nodded into her chest. That’s what everyone had told her when she was accepted into MIT. “You think he knows?” she asked quietly.

“I’m sure he does,” Pepper assured her. “I know that he’ll never stop looking out for you. He wouldn’t dare.”

“I hope so,” she mumbled before pulling away and going to hug Happy. “Keep an eye on Peter while I’m gone?”

“Morgan, I’ve been keeping an eye on him since before you were born,” Happy chuckled, rubbing her back. “Don’t worry. I won’t let him do anything stupid while you’re gone.”

“Good,” Morgan smiled. “I’ll miss you, Uncle Happy.”

“I’ll miss you too, Sweet Pea,” he replied. “If you ever get homesick, call me. I don’t care if it’s three in the morning, I’ll come pick you up.”

“Morgan,” Morgan turned back and saw that Rhodey was closing the trunk. “We need to go.”

Morgan nodded and stepped back. “I’ll see you guys at Christmas,” she said, giving them a watery smile. “Love you three thousand.”

“They say she was seen on occasion. Pacing the rocks, staring out at the midnight sea. And in a feud with her neighbor. She stole his dog and dyed it key lime green.”

“Morgan Stark.” Morgan froze, turning slowly and lifting the faceplate of her suit. “So this is what you’ve been up to.”

“Mom, I can explain,” Morgan said, landing the suit and tapping the arc reactor so the suit would retract itself. “It’s not what it looks like.”

“It looks like you’ve been building more suits after I told you not to,” Pepper said, crossing her arms. Her expression was unreadable, and Morgan wasn’t completely sure if she was mad or amused or maybe a bit of both. Maybe even something completely different. “You’re just like Tony.”

“Is that a bad thing?” Morgan asked, unsnapping the arc reactor and rubbing it with her hand. She may not remember much about her father, but she knew that he was a hero. People loved him, and they loved her for being his daughter.

“No,” Pepper sighed, coming closer. “It just worries me, Sweetie. I don’t want to lose you too. You know you’re all I have left.”

“You won’t,” Morgan assured her before falling silent, looking out at the ocean beside them. “I just feel closer to him when I have a suit on.”

“I know,” Pepper murmured, following her gaze. Her gray hair looked silver in the moonlight. “You know, I used to hate his suits. So much. He would spend hours in the workshop sometimes. I almost left him because of it.”

“Yeah?” Morgan asked, still looking at the water.

“Yeah,” Pepper replied, looking down at her feet. “I’m glad that I came to my senses.”

Morgan smirked, glancing over at her. “I’m glad you did too,” she chuckled, earning an eye roll. She smiled as her mom pulled her into a hug. “I love you, Mom.”

“I love you too, Morgan. So much.”

“Fifty years is a long time. Holiday House sat quietly on that beach. Free of women with madness, their men and bad habits. And then it was bought by me.”

Morgan almost sobbed when she saw it. She looked down at the picture in her hand and grinned, looking back at the newly rebuilt penthouse. It looked just like the picture. This. . . This was her dad’s home. And it was beautiful.

“You ready?” Peter asked. He was standing beside her, a hand on her shoulder. He had helped her design the inside of the penthouse, and even helped set up the tech inside. It had been destroyed before he knew her dad, but he was old enough to remember seeing it on TV.

“Yeah,” she breathed, letting him lead her inside. He pushed a button on his glasses. “EDITH, lights.”

As they stepped inside, the lights turned on, brightening the room. The living room was large, a piano resting in the corner beside the couch. It looked just like the pictures that she had seen of the inside when her parents lived there.

“I-it’s perfect,” she breathed. She smiled and squeezed Peter tight. “Thank you so much, Bubba.”

“Of course, Sis,” he replied, kissing the top of her head. “I, um, I have a little surprise for you. Come on.”

Morgan tilted her head slightly before following Peter down the staircase. Morgan’s eyes widened as she saw the workshop. It was much bigger than the one in the lakehouse. She was sure this was the surprise that Peter was talking about, but he held a hand up before she could speak, closing his eyes. “Mr. Stark?”

Morgan blinked, stepping back as a blue figure popped up in front of her. She felt tears in her eyes as she immediately recognized him. “D-Dad?”

“Hey, Maguna,” he greeted her, smiling softly. He glanced around at the room, taking everything in. “Wow, never thought I would see this place again.”

Morgan gaped, looking at Peter. “I-is he. . ? H-how?”

“It’s not new tech,” he shrugged. “I’ve enhanced it. Tested it out with some memories that weren’t uploaded to the system, and. . . Yeah, it’s him.”

Morgan looked back at her father with wide eyes. “You’re real?” she questioned, still in shock. He looked just like she always remembered. Just like that hologram video that she would playback sometimes so she would never forget his voice.

“Yeah, Sweetie. I’m real.”

“Who knows, if I never showed up, what could have been. There goes the loudest woman this town has ever seen. I had a marvelous time ruining everything.”

Morgan let a small growl escape as she made her way downstairs. She picked up a pair of gauntlets and strapped them on, wanting to blast something. To destroy something. Anything. She was muttering under her breath, and nearly walked through the hologram as it appeared in front of her. “Woah, Morgan. What’s wrong?”

“Doesn’t matter,” she muttered, walking past her dad. “You wouldn’t understand.”

“Morgan. . .”

“You don’t want to know, Dad,” Morgan huffed. “You’ll be mad at me.”

“Kiddo, you know some of the things I did when I was your age,” Tony pressed. Morgan stopped but didn’t look at him. “Talk to me.”

“The press said I wasn’t fit to run Stark Industries,” she sighed, turning to give him a sad look. She used her hand to pull up an article, letting him read it. “I got mad. Furious. I yelled at them. And it just made everything so much worse. They said I’m unstable. That my temper will destroy the company.”

“Come sit with me,” Tony insisted, walking over to the couch in the corner. Morgan hesitated before joining him. “Did Pepper ever tell you how this place got destroyed?”

“She said it was attacked by terrorists,” Morgan told him. “That it was too damaged to repair.”

“But she didn’t tell you why it was attacked by terrorists?” he asked. After she shook her head he continued. “We never really talked about it much after it happened. It was the worst Christmas we ever had. . . There was this man called the Mandarin. He was claiming responsiblity for dozens of terrorist attacks around the country. One of them happened here in Malibu.

“Happy got caught in the crossfire. It almost killed him, and I was furious. I let the world know, and the next day we were attacked. Turned out the Mandarin was a coverup and it was a man named Aldrich Killian. I had met him once years before and refused to work with him, and he wanted revenge. So he came up with Extremis.”

“Wait, Extremis. . . That’s when you met Harley, right?” she asked. Everything was starting to click together.

“Right,” he replied. “The point is, we make mistakes and we pay the consequences for them. People thought I was crazy for challenging the Mandarin, but in the end, everything turned out fine. I met Harley, me and Rhodey and Pepper stopped Extremis, and no one else died because of Killian.”

“Yeah, but that was you,” Morgan countered. “You’re a hero. An Avenger. I’m just me.”

“I wasn’t always a hero, Bug,” he told her. “I made a lot of mistakes and gained a lot of enemies. My temper was bad too. Just ask your mom or your uncles. It wasn’t pretty.”

“I can’t imagine anyone hating you as much as the press hates me right now,” she sighed, leaning back against the cushion. “I don’t know what to do, Dad.”

“Just don’t let them get to you,” he replied. “Go down to the beach and blow off some steam, then tomorrow get back out there and make sure they know you’re not giving up. Remind them who you are and remind them that Starks don’t give up.”

“I had a marvelous time ruining everything. A marvelous time ruining everything. A marvelous time. I had a marvelous time.”

Morgan took a shaky breath as she walked up to the podium. The room was packed, and only a few faces in the crowd were familiar to her. She glanced down at the hologram on her watch. “You got this, Bug,” her dad whispered, giving her a small smile.

She smiled back and looked up at the people. “Hello, everyone,” she started. She glanced at the cards that she had made, skimming over the scribbled words. “A lot of you have been asking about why I should be given a chance as the next CEO of Stark Industries and. . .”

Morgan trailed off, looking at the cards again. “Really, at first, I wasn’t so sure this was for me,” she said, laying the cards face down on the podium and looking back at the crowd. “Because, really, who could do a better job at this than my parents did?”

She paused, risking a glance down at the image on her watch. Her dad just nodded for her to keep going. Letting her know that this was okay. “The truth is,” she started, looking back up. “I have been working for years to try to live up to my father’s legacy. To be the person that he would want me to be. And he told me once that if I believe something is right, to never give up on it. No matter who tells you that you’re wrong or that you’re crazy.

“I’ve built more arc reactors now than I can count. I was the top of my class at MIT. I’ve recreated every version of the Iron Man suit that’s ever existed, plus more. And I have ideas that no one else is brave enough to try.

“I’ve been called a lot of things since I’ve moved here. I’ve been told that I’m not my father. And I’m not. No one could ever be as great as he was. But I am a Stark and I will fight for this company,” she smirked at a camera, looking around the room. “I’m not Iron Man. I never will be. But I will make sure that the marks he has made are never forgotten.”

[loridrabbles]

Ok like Mandoa’s s/o revealing she’s pregnant after they like just met or for a one night stand or something, and she’s really nervous and thinks he’s going to leave her alone or be mad but he’s ends up actually being happy and admits his feeling for her or something like that ;))

One Night | Mandalorian x Reader

Warnings: Slight nsfw. I leave you hanging when it's about to get xtra steamy.

     (Y/n)'s heart pounded in her chest and her hands grew cold and clammy as she fidgeted in her spot next to the campfire the Mandalorian had built for the two of them to keep warm for the night while they rested. She'd been working with him for months now, but barely knew a thing about him. Not that he was a cold person, in fact, he had been quite welcoming, but he wasn't one to talk. She knew he was a human, around 40 years old, his parents were killed and he was taken in as a foundling, and that he is never, ever allowed to remove his helmet. That's it. 

     It was evident that he had been lacking the touch of another person from a young age. He'd probably never felt the sensation of another person' under his fingertips, their breath on his skin, or their lips against his neck, felt someone's heart pound in their chest, or hear their cries in his ear. It didn't bother him. It didn't bother him. "It doesn't bother me." He thought.

     He had had enough one night. He returned to the ship after his venture out alone, (y/n) sitting in the cockpit, unsuspecting of his return so early. His breath was heavy with anger from having been bested by an enemy, something that never happened. Was it frustration that allowed him to be so distracted? (Y/n) turned to him, white cotton shirt she would have worn to bed draped loosely over her torso, the lightweight fabric contouring her breasts, her nipples gently visible through the garment. She had never been in anything less than full tactical gear around him. Embarrassed, her chest heaved. He watched behind his helmet. He stared at her clean face, unmarked by dirt and grime from the elements. He had never noticed her features before. They were...alluring.

     "You're back early." 

     "I am." He responded, blunt as ever. He watched her hands tug on the hem of her shorts at the top of her thigh, tugging them from where they had ridden up between her legs. He wanted to reach out and stop her. She didn't want to stand, feeling that it would expose more of her body to him. She stayed put, breaking the awkward silence.

     "What happened?" She asked quietly. He never went into details. "You seem upset."

     "I'm not." He assured. His chest was still heaving, but by now it was arousal. 

     "Oh." She said quiet as a mouse. "Sorry if I knew you were coming back I wouldn't be so...u-under dressed."

     "It's ok." He said, taking a step towards her. She shifted in her seat, biting the skin of her cheek upon noticing that his garb did nothing to hide his growing erection. He'd seen countless nude women before at bars and shady joints and they never did anything for him. What was it about her? Her own breathing grew heavier and she ran her fingers through her hair, avoiding having to look at him. She knew he had likely never been intimate before and understood why he was having feelings for her. She wished there was a way to convey to him that it was ok, She could feel his gaze. Hoping he would notice, she licked her lips then bit down, slowly drawing her eyes to him. She couldn't make it to where his eyes would be without breaking, but his chest did just fine. 

     "Up until now I've been so good at pushing this away." He finally spoke. His unexpected words coaxed her eyes to his visor. "I'm sorry."

     "It's ok." She said as he stepped backwards towards the door. "Um..y-you don't have to go. If you don't want to."

     "I just- are you sure?" He asked. She nodded. "I-I can take care o-of myself." She had never in all her days of knowing him heard him so nervous. She'd never heard his voice break. He needed this.

     "You don't have to." She said, finally standing, grabbing his wrists gently, coaxing him to his pilot's seat. She was bold with her next move, but his positive, well neutral, reaction to the prior gave her the confidence. She pushed his legs apart with her hand, sitting on one of his knees. His hands formed uneasy fists on the armrests as her fingers grazed along the gathering of his cape by his neck. Her hand then fell to his, guiding it to cup her breast. He was hesitant, but as her hand left his, he squeezed and kneaded her breast, just as she had hoped.

     "May I?" She asked, tugging at the snap at the wrist. He nodded ever so slightly, so quickly. She undid the button, taking the tip of his middle finger between her teeth removing the glove. As soon as his hand was free of its burden, it fell right back to her breast. She expected it to be calloused and rough from years of work, but it was soft and tender, protected by the thick leather. As she leaned into his touch, her hand pressed against his erection, now hard and prominent beneath the fabric. She heard him let out a deep labored breath, modulated by the helmet.

     "Are you sure this is ok?" He asked.

     "I'm sure." She answered. He was elated.

     "J-just for tonight..." He said, picking her up and placing her back down in his seat. He removed his other glove, followed by the rest of her clothing and as she sat by the fire, the rest of that night was a blur. Their camp was minimal, a couple of bed rolls and their back packs, Mando's various weapons and (y'n)'s pistol. As they settled in for the long night, warming up, he noticed, apart from how gorgeous she looked in the lighting, her discomfort. 

     "Well be back at the ship by tomorrow." He said, taking a guess at what was making her uncomfortable.

     "Yeah I figured as such." She said, trying to hide her nerves in her voice. A man of few words isn't any good at making conversation. "It's nice out here though, under the stars. Even though we spend most of our time up there, I don't think I'll ever get tired of looking at the night sky."

     "Yeah it's nice." He paused. "Y/n), you seem uncomfortable." He said. "If I'm correct, may I ask why?"

     "Actually, there is something I've been meaning to talk to you about, but I don't know how to start."

     "There's something I may want to talk to you about too." He said. She nervously fiddled with her fingers, watching from her peripheral vision as he stood from his position on the ground across from her and moved closer, almost next to her. 

     "What is it?" He asked. 

     "You go first."

     "I asked you first." He said. He was joking, but (y/n) could tell there was seriousness behind it.

     "Well..." She bit her cheek to keep the tears irritating her eyes from falling. "I- I really screwed up. I'm so sorry I-" She failed, and the first tear fell, cold as it hit her wrist where it sat in her lap. He didn't say anything to coax her, he was patient. He noticed her trembling hands and took one into his own, giving her a reassuring squeeze removing it quickly. realizing what he'd done. She collected herself and sniffled back more tears. "I'm pregnant."

     He was silent next to her.

     "I wasn't thinking and I got ahead of myself a-and if you're mad I can leave and never come back and you won't have to worry." She rambled to fill the silence, hoping and praying he wouldn't actually leave her by herself. "A-and I don't care what you have to say about it, but I'm not going to get rid of it. Ever." 

     "Good." He said. She sniffled again and wiped her face.

     "What?" She asked, really not expecting more of a one word response from him. If he did decide to let her stick around, she imagined he would do it because he had to. Their relationship wouldn't progress, she'd go through the pregnancy alone with no support, she'd give birth alone, and she'd just be... alone.

     "I would never ask you to get rid of it." He said, moving closer. "This news is so sudden, but I'm...happy."

     "You are?" She asked. He took her hand in his again.

     "What I've been meaning to say is that I have feelings for you. Feelings I've never felt before. What happened that night between us, I've never shared that with anyone else before. In fact, it's a little taboo in my culture, but...I love you, so it doesn't matter to me."

     "This is sudden to me, too." She said, trying to shake away her tears with a laugh as she turned towards him.

     "I want us to be a family, and if you will, marry me before the baby gets here." He said. "Will you?"

     "I will." She smiled weakly. 

     "Close your eyes." He said. She obeyed and shut them, blackness like the dark sky overtaking her vision. She felt his hands on her cheeks and his warm lips against hers. She shuddered a little, not expecting the kiss, but it made her feel warm inside. His lips left hers and his hands left her face.

     "Ok." He said. She opened her eyes again, and the helmet was back in place. "I love you." He said, both her hands in his.

      "I- I don't think I can say I love you yet, but I will." She said.

     "That's ok." 

     "And if we're going to be married I want to get to know you, like really know you. I don't even know your name. I need you to talk to me. I want this marriage thing to work, but please, just talk to me."

     "I'll tell you my name, first thing when we marry." He said, caressing her cheek. His hand was gloved, but it was still comforting. "I promise. And I'll tell you everything. About my parents, my home, about how I became a Mandalorian."

     "Wait, you weren't born a Mandalorian?" She asked, excitedly, getting up on her knees. He laughed,

     "Nope."

     "Tell me." She sat back down, criss cross, her chin in her hands, waiting for story time.

     "Hey we have to save something for the wedding night." He teased, booping her nose. She scrunched up her nose and scowled playfully.

     "Fine." She sighed, before yawning. He stood again and grabbed his bedroll from across the fire and put it next to hers.

     "Someone's ready for bed." He said, leaning back against the rock at the head of his bedroll. 

     "Yeah." She yawned again, laying down with her head on his lap. She was lucky when he slept, he removed all but his chest plating. "Goodnight."

     "Goodnight." He sighed.

[karaliswrites]

Cold

I wrote this really late so it’s probably terrible and full of mistakes. Contains spoilers

~~~~

Lio has been lying to Galo for months now. Well, it’s not necessarily lying, he's just omitting the truth. The truth that each and every night he shivers himself to sleep, despite the heavy blanket Galo gave him. He sleeps on the couch and it leaves his back sore in the morning, but he doesn’t mind. Galo offered him the empty space in his own bed many times when he first moved in, but after countless rejections, he just gave up trying.

Lio’s tried to sneak some clothes from the laundry to provide him extra warmth, but one time this little secret was revealed. He had slept through the alarm he set to wake up before Galo to change out of the blue-haired man’s clothes, and he was caught practically swimming in an old t-shirt of his. His face had turned crimson and he had quickly pulled off the shirt and chucked it at the smiling man’s head. After that incident, Lio was hesitant to steal any more of Galo’s clothes.

So every night he struggles to fall asleep and to stay asleep. Some nights he doesn’t sleep at all, and he knows Galo can tell by the way he sends him worried glances every few minutes at work. But he doesn’t tell Galo about his problem. He’s the ex-leader of the Mad Burnish and he’s been through far worse than a little chill. Even though this is much more than just a little chill. With the Promare gone, the entire world is like ice to him. But he can handle it on his own.

It’s October and Lio’s wrapped tightly in two blankets, an extra for the change in the weather. But still he finds himself trembling. He tries to stop his teeth from chattering, but to no avail. He snuggles deeper into the little warmth he gets from the blankets, and he can’t help thinking how pathetic he is. A few months ago he was leading the Mad Burnish and trying to stop Kray’s plans, and now he’s shivering despite being wrapped in two blankets, his eyes red and burning from lack of sleep. He hasn’t slept more than two hours straight in days. He’s been waking up with a frozen nose and icy skin.

Maybe that’s what has him standing and rubbing his arms as he walks towards Galo’s room. The door is slightly ajar and he nudges it open, peeking inside to see his friend soundly asleep. He’s not even wearing a shirt. Lio doesn’t understand how he isn’t a literal block of ice, but he figures Galo isn’t used to the warmth of the Promare like he is. He shivers and a jolt of cold shoots down his spine. He bites his lip as he moves towards the bed, his stomach churning. He stands there a moment, looking at Galo’s peaceful face. Strands of his hair fall across his forehead and Lio gets an overwhelming urge to sweep them away, but he stops his hand midway. He pulls it back to wrap around himself and tries to steady his shaking as much as possible. “G-Galo . . . ,” he whispers, but the man doesn’t stir. He swallows.

“Galo,” he says louder and he shifts. “G-Galo, wake u-up.”

His eyes squeeze tightly shut before they open, revealing that stunning teal. “Lio?” he asks groggily, wiping the sleep from his eyes. “What is it?”

He’s visibly more awake as he says this, sitting up as his gaze becomes clearer and his speech less slurred. “Is something wrong?”

Lio holds himself as still as he can possibly muster, but he still feels his muscles spasming. “Do you have an e-extra blanket?” he says softly, afraid if he speaks any louder he’ll lose control of his voice. Galo’s brow furrows slightly. “You’re still cold with two?”

His tone isn’t bitter. It’s more concerned. Lio shifts, feeling himself shudder as the movement breaks his resolve. “A l-little,” he mutters, wrapping his arms tighter around himself.

“Well, c’mere.”

Lio looks at him like he’s crazy as he extends his arms towards the blond. He feels his cheeks start to warm. It’s a pleasant sensation. “Wh-what do you mean?” he finds himself stuttering and Galo just smiles wider.

“I mean c’mere.”

Lio takes a shaky step forward, expecting Galo to scoot back, but he doesn’t. When Lio’s close enough, Galo grabs him around the middle and pulls him on top of him. Lio gasps at the sudden rush of cold air that whizzes past him, and when he comes to a halt on Galo’s chest, he hits his shoulder softly. “Galo!”

“You’re like ice,” he remarks and Lio huffs.

“How exactly is this helping?” he asks, trying to hide his slowly reddening cheeks behind his hair. But Galo’s hold on him is firm and he can’t do much to hide his face. “I’m keeping you warm with my burning soul!” he says cheerfully and Lio groans.

“Right.”

“Hey, it’s helping, isn’t it?”

He’s suddenly very aware of the fact that his fingers are pressed against Galo’s exposed chest and he’s definitely blushing now. Galo is practically radiating with heat, curse him, and Lio feels himself shiver as his warmth thaws his chilled bones. He lets out a sigh and melts into Galo’s arms, laying his head on the firefighter’s chest. “You are pretty warm . . . ,” he admits. He can’t see him, but he knows Galo’s smiling. “I told you! It’s my burning soul!”

Lio makes a pathetic sound as he snuggles further into Galo’s warmth and he thinks he hears the blue-haired man’s breath hitch. He lies there for a moment, basking in his body heat, until his human heater speaks up. “Were you this cold last night too?”

Lio doesn’t respond, his fingers sliding over Galos’ chest and shoulders absentmindedly. “Lio.”

“I . . . I’ve been cold this entire time . . . ,” he finally admits. “All the m-months I’ve been here. I’m not used to life without the Promare to keep me warm . . . .”

Galo is silent for a long moment. “Is that why you look so tired at work?”

Even though Galo is the biggest idiot on the face of the earth, he’s not really that dumb. He’s actually a lot smarter than anyone gives him credit for. “Yeah . . . those nights were really bad. Sometimes I couldn’t get any sleep at all.”

“What?” Galo exclaims, grabbing his shoulders and Lio raises his head. His heart stutters at the expression on his face, full of concern laced with what looks a little like heartbreak. “Why didn’t you tell me? I would’ve let you come in here with me if I knew you were suffering through that.”

He suddenly feels very ashamed of not telling Galo and his stomach sinks a little. “I’m sorry,” he mutters, his eyes fixed on Galo’s collarbone. “I didn’t want to be a bother . . . .”

“Lio,” he says and the blond can’t help looking back into those beautiful teal eyes of his. “You aren’t a bother. I opened my apartment to you. It’s yours too. And I’m here for you, okay? Always. I want to help you if you need something. I’d give you the last clean spoon so you could eat your ice cream, man.”

Lio can’t help the giggle that escapes him at that. “What?! I would!” Galo cries, but he’s smiling too. He draws a design on his bicep. Something similar to a heart. “That’s very sweet of you,” he replies, half-jokingly. “You know I can’t live without my ice cream. Especially when I constantly feel like I’m in subzero temperatures.”

“Hey, it’s always best to eat ice cream when it’s cold outside.”

Lio gives him a look. “What?”

“You idiot,” he says, looking at him like he’s lost his mind. “You don’t eat ice cream when it’s cold.”

“Why not?” Galo asks genuinely. Lio can’t believe they’re having this discussion right now. “Because it’s cold.”

“So?”

“What do you mean so?”

“I think it’s good!”

Lio shakes his head. “There is seriously something wrong with you.”

Galo pouts and Lio wishes he could kiss it from his lips. He suddenly remembers a question he’s been meaning to ask for months. “Another thing that proves there’s something wrong with your brain,” he says, gently flicking Galo’s forehead. “If there even is one in there,” he mutters beneath his breath, to which Galo cries out indignantly. Lio fixes him with a smug gaze, unable to keep the smirk off his face. “Where did you learn to do CPR?”

“I . . . learned at Burning Rescue . . . .”

“Did they teach you to use tongue?” he asks teasingly, dragging a finger over Galo’s collarbone. His face turns bright red and Lio smirks, thinking he’s adorable. “U-Uh . . . ,” he stutters and Lio’s heart does so as well. “W-Well . . . it’s uh . . . .”

“It’s what?” Lio asks, leaning slightly closer to Galo’s face, feeling his heartbeat pounding against his chest where they touch. He quickly looks around before his gaze returns to lilac eyes. “I-It’s Burning Rescue procedure!”

Lio raises an eyebrow. “Oh really?”

“Y-Yeah!” he says quickly and Lio smirks.

“Do you always whimper when you do CPR too?”

“Y-Yes! It’s . . . good for . . . c-calming me down. R-Releasing a sound is good for expelling e-energy.”

“Oh, it had the opposite effect on me,” he purrs, stretching out a little on top of Galo. “I was quite excited hearing you make those sounds.”

Galo turns impossibly redder and Lio’s stomach is doing somersaults. “I wonder if I could make you make those sounds again . . . .”

“Yes,” Galo says suddenly and Lio thinks he hadn’t meant to. He glances away nervously and Lio has to try very hard to keep himself from saying ‘cute’ aloud. “Oh really? And what would I have to do to make that happen?” he asks mocking innocence and Galo opens his mouth before closing it again. His chest is rising and falling much more shallowly and Lio tilts his head slightly. “Looks like you’re having a bit of difficulty breathing there, Galo. Maybe I have to do CPR on you.”

Galo swallows thickly and Lio inches closer. “Maybe I’ll have to try the Burning Rescue technique while I’m at it,” he says, his lips brushing Galo’s as he speaks. Before the firefighter can respond, he leans the rest of the way forward, connecting their lips once more. Just like the rest of him, Galo’s lips feel like flames. He runs a hand over his burning skin to tangle in blue hair, gently slipping his tongue between Galo’s lips like he had done to Lio months before. He releases a sweet noise and Lio’s stomach somersaults at the sound, urging him to kiss him — sorry, do CPR on him — for the rest of time. Galo’s lips are soft and eager and welcoming and Lio feels like he’s drowning. Drowning in flames. His mind is blank and the entire world fades away as their tongues dance slowly in Galo’s mouth. Lio lets out a small moan, feeling himself starting to fade as exhaustion rudely interrupts his very important resuscitation.

He pulls away reluctantly, leaving both of them panting slightly. Galo gives him a crooked grin that has his heart skipping beats. “Wow . . . you’re really good at that . . . .”

“Well, I learned from the best,” he smiles, lightly pecking the tip of Galo’s nose. He lies down on his chest and lets out a sigh that takes all the tension in his back and shoulders with it. He melts into a puddle in Galo’s arms and presses a sleepy kiss to his collarbone. “We should get some sleep though.”

“We should. Sleep is good. Especially for my boyfriend.”

Lio’s entire body is set ablaze at that word and he lifts his head. “Boyfriend?”

Galo’s face falls. “I-If that’s okay. I . . . I really really like you and I-I thought —”

Lio silences him with a soft kiss. When he pulls away, he gives Galo a smile. “I really really like you too, dumbass.”

He can practically see the fear fade from his face and he smiles a little wider. “So it’s okay. It’s more than okay.”

He settles back into Galo’s arms and another sigh dances over his boyfriend’s skin. His boyfriend . . . .

He feels himself start to drift and he lets his eyelids fall heavily shut, thankful for the sweet relief from their exhausted burn. “Wow,” Galo’s voice pulls him from the beginnings of sleep. “Lio Fotia is my boyfriend.”

He giggles. “Yes,” he mumbles, pressing a soft kiss to Galo’s neck. “Now get some sleep, you idiot.”

“Okay,” he replies, wrapping his arms tighter around the blond. Lio hums and snuggles into Galo’s warmth, feeling himself start to fade. He’s lulled by the pattern of his breathing and the soft thud of his heartbeat, and soon he’s overcome with the wonderful embrace of sleep.

[artificialqueens]

One Direction (To Your Heart), 2/6 (Methessence) - Cheetah

Summary: Jaida will share two tattoos with her soulmate: one will be her own first tattoo, whilst the other will be theirs. And if there’s anything Jaida knows about her soulmate, it’s that they love One Direction - why else would it be written out on her skin?

What Jaida doesn’t expect, though, is that she’ll meet her soulmate during the final week of preparation for her first big fashion show, or that it’ll be the bubbly, blue-haired artist she’s working with.

Maybe it’s time she learned to embrace the unexpected. And One Direction.

Chapter Summary: Jaida meets Crystal, and finally gets acquainted with One Direction.

A/N: The song in this chapter is “Kiss You” by One Direction. I will admit that writing this fic has made me appreciate them a lot more than I used to lol

Thank you so much to @dollalpaca​ for betaing!

Ao3 || my blog

~

Meeting

At first, all Jaida sees is blue.

Her gaze swims in bright necklaces and denim, in cobalt hair rippling with colour like the ocean on a summer’s day. And then she meets brown eyes as wild and untameable as the seaside cliffs, shimmering like they’ve been touched by the moon. Jaida feels her breath catch in her throat.

“I’m Crystal.” The stranger extends her hand for Jaida to shake, and the sapphire bracelets adorning her wrists glimmer in the white light of the lobby. “Crystal Methyd. I’m the assistant events coordinator - I was told we’d be working together?”

“You’d be right,” Jaida greets her with a warm smile as she shakes her hand. Crystal’s grip is soft but firm, matching the silent confidence in her umber eyes.

Today is the first of many days they’ll be working together, doing odd jobs to ensure this fashion show runs smoothly. It’s Jaida’s first show with the Del Rio brand — in fact, it’s her first big fashion show in general — and she wants nothing more than for it to go well. She started working with Bianca shortly after her graduation, when the brand was nothing more than a handful of people with sewing machines and a dream. Now, it’s expanded into so much more, and Jaida is desperate to prove that she’s really, truly meant to be here.

As she stands opposite Crystal’s sunny smile, Bianca’s words from earlier in the morning ring in her head: “Here’s your schedule, Hall. You’re working with some girl who sounds like she might be a drug addict.”

She hopes beyond hope that Bianca is wrong. Nothing is going to ruin this for her, least of all the crazy assistant of the events coordinator.

And upon first glance, Crystal is as wild as her name suggests, with her summer-sky hair and eclectic sense of style. But there is such excitement in her smile and her brilliant eyes that Jaida can’t help but be immediately endeared, the worry dissipating slightly in her chest.

“So,” Crystal says, drawing out the syllable as she bounces on the balls of her feet. “Hair and makeup artists, yeah? You ready to go?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be.” Jaida tucks her clipboard into her purse, even though she’s perused her schedule enough times that she’s sure she’s memorised it by now, and follows Crystal to her car.

They listen to One Direction for the entire drive.

At first, Jaida doesn’t realise what she’s listening to - she’s only aware that it’s some generic pop song that she’s probably heard before and couldn’t be bothered remembering. Crystal hums along, slightly off-key and warbly, but Jaida doesn’t mind.

“You okay with this music?” Crystal asks, midway through the song, as though only just realising Jaida might not agree with her taste in music.

“Yeah, I’m chill.” Jaida doesn’t actually like it, but she isn’t about to start a debate about the validity of modern pop. Besides, Crystal seems happy - and equally at ease with their lack of small talk - and Jaida is content with that.

“So tell me, girl, if everytime we to-o-ouch, you get this kinda ru-u-ush,” Crystal sings aloud while they’re waiting at a red light. “God, I love this song.”

“It’s not bad,” Jaida admits begrudgingly, stifling a smile when Crystal shoots her a look of abject horror.

“‘Not bad?’ This is art!”

“Naw, child, this ain’t it.”

Okay, so maybe she was wrong about starting a debate.

“No one knows how to appreciate One Direction anymore,” Crystal laments, as the lights change and she returns her focus to the road.

One Direction. Jaida’s mind can’t help but wander in the direction of her mysterious soulmate. It’s been four years since the night her soul tattoo appeared, and there’s still no sign of them. It doesn’t worry her like it used to; she’s decided to let fate run its course, and in the meantime, she does what she pleases. Now, seeing the mark on her skin has become routine. She’s grown accustomed to its presence the same way she got used to seeing herself with earrings after she got her ears pierced.

Soon enough, they’re arriving at the hairstylist’s studio, its walls lined with wigs and photographs of models with perfect hair. Crystal is like a bird, bright and breezy, hopping through the room with an enthusiasm that seems to radiate from all of her features. For a moment, Jaida wonders whether or not her own posture is too stiff, too poised, and has to remind herself that she’s a professional, here on business. So is Crystal, but the word professional seems to carry a different meaning for her.

And, as it turns out, any worries Jaida had about Crystal are unfounded. She is competent - incredibly so, in fact. The Crystal she sees in the stylist’s office is one who knows what she’s doing; who uses her wacky style and charm to her advantage, who gets her point across clearly and concisely. All Jaida needs to do is make sure Bianca’s vision is followed.

In a few hours, everything is sorted out, and the meeting is over faster than Jaida could have anticipated. The drive back passes in much the same fashion as the drive over: as soon as Crystal turns the key in the ignition, the same poppy, upbeat love songs begin pounding through the car. Crystal sings along shamelessly.

And again, all they seem to be listening to is One Direction.

“Do you listen to anything other than this stuff, child?”

“Well, yes,” Crystal says, “but I’m kind of obsessively listening to my One Direction playlist right now. I can change it, if you want.” She doesn’t sound offended, and Jaida likes that about her. She’s easy to get along with, and in the few short snippets of conversation they’ve had, Crystal has taken any teasing comment with an easygoing laugh and a toss of her ocean-blue hair.

“One Direction is fine,” Jaida decides after a moment. She can’t help but think of her soulmate, and whether or not they, too, have a One Direction playlist that they listen to on repeat. She might as well take this opportunity to get acquainted with their favourite band. “I just wanted to make sure you’ve got more taste than this.”

“Haters gonna hate,” Crystal replies breezily, grinning at Jaida in the rearview mirror, and Jaida grins right back.

~

Jaida is unusually nervous.

She swirls the words on her tongue — three simple words — and wonders at her own anxiety. She isn’t usually like this, and she’d hardly expect Crystal of all people to be the reason for it.

She bites the bullet as Crystal locks her car.

“You want lunch?” Jaida asks cordially.

Crystal chews on her bottom lip, silent, and for a moment, Jaida wonders what in the world she’s done wrong. Do event coordinators have something against eating lunch with their coworkers? Maybe it’s something specific to Crystal’s team, or maybe Crystal just doesn’t like her.

“I mean, I would,” Crystal says eventually, her voice high-pitched and sheepish. “But I promised I’d hang out with Widow on my break, so… I can’t.”

Jaida has no idea who Widow is, and she doesn’t bother asking. She isn’t sure whether or not she wants to know why all the people she’s hearing about today have such strange names.

“It’s cool,” she says instead. “I’ll see you after.”

“See you then!”

They part ways in the lobby. Jaida finds Nicky in her dressing room, saying something in French to her phone, adding a slow emphasis to every syllable as though she is talking to a small child. A moment later, a voice parrots it back through the phone, and Nicky visibly winces.

“We’ll work on it,” she promises. Her gaze snaps up when Jaida snickers, and Jaida takes her glare as an invitation to sit down right beside her.

“Hey, bitches,” Jaida says, grinning when she peers at the phone and sees Jackie’s pixelated face looking back. “How’re y’all going on this fine day?”

“Damn, something’s got you in a good mood,” Nicky comments wryly, but her cold facade is broken by the slight quirk of her lips. “Did that meth girl give you a joint or something?”

“I don’t smoke at work, you dumbass,” Jaida chides her playfully as Jackie laughs. “Also, her name is Crystal, and she is so fucking good at her job.”

Nicky raises a playful eyebrow. “Oh really?”

“Don’t give me that look, bitch. Didn’t you realise I’m back half an hour early?”

“Nope.”

“You guys, I’m so confused,” Jackie cuts in. “Since when was there a meth girl?”

“Oh my god, I can’t believe I forgot to tell you!” Nicky exclaims. She’d been there when Jaida had received her schedule, and had gawked right along with her when they saw Crystal’s name. “Just this chick Jaida’s working with for the next week. What was her full name again, Jaida? Crystal Meth?”

“Crystal Methyd,” Jaida corrects, as Jackie’s hand flies to her face in a feeble attempt to maintain her composure. Jaida can’t help but wonder if she’d react the same if she met Crystal in person; now that Jaida can put a face — and a personality — to the name, it seems less outlandish and more… quirky.

“So? What’s she like? Apart from being ‘so fucking good at her job?’” Nicky asks, her eyes gleaming with a strange sort of curiosity. “Is she as crazy as you thought?”

“And then some,” Jaida laughs. “But she’s, like, a fun crazy. It’s cool. She looks like a lollipop.”

Nicky nods slowly. “Please elaborate.”

“Blue hair, a fuck ton of necklaces… the whole shebang,” Jaida says. She’s still stunned at how Crystal doesn’t get sick of the constant rattling of the beads. “Like, you know those big ass lollipops we had as kids? The swirly rainbow ones? Imagine one of those, but blue. That’s Crystal.”

Nicky nearly chokes on her lunch.

“That is the single most amazing thing I have ever heard,” she proclaims, mouth still half full. “Calling someone a ‘big ass lollipop’. Have I told you I love you, Jaida?”

“Hey!” Jackie whines, pretending to be wounded by the statement. “I thought your heart belonged to me, Miss Doll.”

“You can share,” Nicky replies haughtily, sticking her tongue out at Jackie.

“No fair.”

“Deal with it.”

Jaida laughs, already all too familiar with Nicky and Jackie’s playful banter. They might bicker like an old married couple, but Jaida always sees how Nicky rolls her sleeves up when she’s nervous, sees how she’ll immediately relax as she gazes at her lilac flowers.

Jaida has known Nicky since they were kids, and she has never seen anyone make her smile like Jackie does.

“Well,” Jaida says, “unfortunately for you, child, my heart will soon belong to an avid One Direction fan. Sorry ’bout it.”

Soon, she thinks, as soon as the words have left her lips. How soon? It’s such a loose term. Soon could be twenty years, or it could be tomorrow. Fate has left her nothing but a string of words to follow, and she has given nothing back - save for the Arabic tattoo, her skin is empty.

“Girl, if they were still a thing, I would sit through an entire concert for you to find your soulmate,” Nicky promises. “And that’s no small deal, Jaida - that’s ten years off of my life, just for you.”

“Luckily for you they’re still no longer a thing,” Jackie remarks.

Jaida chuckles. “Actually, I listened to some One Direction today, in the car. Crystal played it non-stop.”

“Maybe Crystal is your soulmate!” Nicky gasps, bolting upright in her seat.

“Bitch! She’s my coworker!” Jaida can’t help but wrinkle her nose - Crystal is nice, but soulmates is taking it a bit too far.

“That’s how all the best love stories start, you know!”

“Naw, child, I doubt it. We’re too different.”

“Since when has that stopped anyone?” Jackie grins, sharing a knowing glance with Nicky.

“I’ll believe it until proven otherwise,” Nicky insists, slamming her fist on the table emphatically. “Besides, she sounds like the type to get a One Direction tattoo in a foreign language, don’t you think?”

Jaida rolls her eyes, amused. “You haven’t even met her!”

“And also,” Nicky continues slyly, ignoring Jaida. “You have no proof that she’s not your soulmate. You won’t know for sure until she shows you her collarbone.”

“Ooh, kinky,” Jaida deadpans. “What do you want me to do, take her to, like, a strip club or something and hope she takes her clothes off? You can do that, child, I’m keeping things professional.”

Jackie laughs. “Let’s plan a double date.”

“Let’s get through this next week first, then we’ll talk,” Jaida counters, knowing the possibility of her following through will be slim. Still, she can’t help but wonder if by then, she and Crystal will actually know each other well enough for the idea to be plausible.

“Oh, wait! I have something to show you,” Nicky gasps suddenly, swiping off of FaceTime and opening photos instead. She chooses an image before swivelling her phone around for Jaida to see. “Sorry, I know this is going totally off-topic, but you must see this.”

It’s a photograph of Shea Couleé, one of Nicky’s fellow models, standing in a gauzy gown of galactic violets and a shimmering ebony. Jaida recognises the design instantly - it was one of the first things she pitched to Bianca, who, later on, begrudgingly admitted that she liked it so much she’d nearly promoted Jaida on the spot. The top half of the dress is covered in jewelled stars and surrounded by rings of planets, whilst the bottom is layers of tulle and gleaming black satin that shines like the midnight sky. Jaida remembers thinking something like this would be impossible to bring to life, yet now, she’s not only seen it on a mannequin, but also right here, in this photograph of Shea.

And she looks so beautiful, Jaida almost feels herself tearing up. Shea’s warm brown skin seems to glow amidst the glimmering jewels and star-shaped rhinestones. She holds her head high, ink-dark hair cascading down her back and over her shoulders, spilling over constellations and galaxies. She looks regal, silver specks like starlight pooling in her obsidian eyes. She’s surrounded by tiny worlds, supernovas and shining stars, and Shea wears them all like she’s the sun. Jaida can’t take her eyes off of her.

“I know, right?” Nicky gushes. “Doesn’t she look so incredible?”

“Holy fuck. Holy shit, child, I can’t. This isn’t real. Pinch me.”

“It’s real!” Nicky promises, grinning from ear to ear. “I saw her at the fitting. She looks even better in person - I can’t wait for you to see her model it.”

Jaida genuinely has no words. They lodge in her throat, sticky with unspoken emotion. This moment feels… powerful. It feels like all her dreams have come true at once. All her late nights designing, sewing, stoning fabrics and adjusting seams - every moment feels worth it. She stares at the image, trying to sear it into her mind so that she’ll never forget it, wears the thought of it like a badge of honour. Jaida feels like anything is possible; like this show might just be perfect.

~

Jaida finds Crystal sitting in her car, headbanging to music so loud Jaida can hear it from outside — it’s still One Direction — as though the world isn’t passing right outside the windows.

“Hey, bitch,” Jaida greets her cheerfully, sliding into the passenger seat. She has to choke back a laugh when Crystal practically leaps out of her skin, her back stiffening until it’s ramrod straight.

“Shit,” she gasps. “Sorry. You literally gave me a heart attack. Oh my god, don’t ever do that again.”

This time, Jaida can’t hold back an amused snort. “I could tell. You were completely in your own world just then.”

“Such is the power of One Direction,” Crystal replies sagely as she turns the music back down to a more appropriate volume. “By the way, we’ve got another stop after this next meeting - the designers just finished the flyers and stuff, so we gotta go print them off.”

“No trouble.” Jaida can’t say she’s enthusiastic about having yet another task on her itinerary, but this one is so minimal effort that she can’t complain.

“Right, cool.” Crystal shifts the gearstick as Jaida leans back in her seat, surrounded by the generic pop melodies of One Direction and her own thoughts.

She can’t help but reminisce on Nicky’s words from earlier. What if all this is the work of fate? Are these car rides — and the fact that Crystal has, so far, played absolutely nothing but One Direction — destiny?

It sends an undeniable shiver up Jaida’s spine. To think that this moment was fated to happen no matter what she does feels… strange, to say the least. But if they are fated to fall in love, why doesn’t Jaida feel it?

She chances a sidewards glance at Crystal, and realises that she must have taken her denim jacket off sometime during the lunch break. Now, the jacket is loosely tied around her waist, and the T-shirt she’s wearing above it leaves her arms bare.

Bare enough for Jaida to see her tattoos.

There’s one on her right bicep: Jaida can only see the lower half of it, but it looks intricately detailed. She notices a small cat and a pair of legs before her gaze lands on the inside of Crystal’s other arm, where two circular symbols are inked onto her skin.

A weird combination of disappointment and relief washes over Jaida. Crystal isn’t fated to be hers after all - there are her tattoos, not one but two of them, likely both tied to a mysterious, predestined love.

You haven’t seen her collarbone yet, Nicky’s voice whispers in Jaida’s mind, but Jaida shoves it away. She doesn’t care. This is confirmation enough.

It’s incredibly common for people to get their soul tattoos in obvious places, like these tattoos on Crystal’s arms, or the flowers on Nicky and Jackie’s wrists that led them to one another. Jaida still remembers how Nicky would refuse to cover up her tattoos when she went outside, because “today could be the day, Jaida!”

Jaida almost laughs at the memory. She wonders if her own soulmate has spent as much of the last four years as possible with their tattoo showing. That might make things easier.

But Jaida has decided that she doesn’t care for easy. She’s grateful that her tattoo — her fucking One Direction tattoo — is in a place that she can cover up, and that in the meantime, her freedom is still hers. She doesn’t even need to think about her soulmate if she doesn’t want to. The words on her collarbone are the only things binding them, and right now, that bond can easily be ignored.

Her thoughts drift, momentarily, to Gigi - the girl she met years ago, with the honey-gold hair and skin as smooth as flower petals. She thinks about the image of the little doll on Gigi’s ribcage: the only trace of ink on her pale skin.

They had briefly asked about each other’s marks, and that was it. They didn’t match, but it didn’t matter. It had never mattered, even as they watched the spark die out and realised that maybe it was just destiny.

They’re still friends. Jaida sees Gigi sometimes, and it still makes her smile. Even if it’s over — even if it was never meant to be — they shared something special, regardless of their mismatched tattoos.

Jaida glances over at Crystal again. She’s focused on the road ahead, but she’s still quietly murmuring along to the music. She’s undeniably beautiful, Jaida thinks, with her sandy freckles and cerulean hair. She chances one more look at Crystal’s tattoos and fires off a text to Nicky.

I was right!! She’s already tattooed, so… no chance there.

Nicky’s reply comes instantaneously.

Seen her collarbone yet? ; )

Jaida leaves her on read.

~

Jaida and Crystal are the last customers in the print store.

It’s nearly closing time, and the girl behind the counter looks rather irritated to see them there. Ordinarily, Jaida wouldn’t have been too happy to be waiting around this late either, but today, she has Crystal. Talking to Crystal is easy; conversation flows between them like bubbling spring water, and Jaida soon forgets about the time.

She picks up one of the flyers as a staff member deposits a pile of them on the counter. Beside her, Crystal looks like she’s about to vibrate right out of her skin with anticipation.

“You good there?” Jaida asks, her brows furrowing in concern.

“Oh, yeah, totally.” Crystal shoots her a self-assured grin. “Just waiting to see what you think.”

Jaida’s gaze darts back to the flyer in her hand, and she almost does a double take. Looking back at her is a gorgeous model, dark skin shining a brilliant topaz in the gold lights and falling glitter.

And she’s wearing Jaida’s galaxy dress.

The drawing of it is almost better than the real thing. It no longer looks like a garment - rather, the model has become one with the universe itself, as though she carries worlds in her palms and constellations in her eyes. She looks powerful, commanding, ethereal.

Jaida’s gaze travels down the line of the model’s body and there, in the bottom corner, is a tiny signature of swirling script and looping letters. Jaida peers closer at it, making out an elegant C and the long tail of a Y.

“…Crystal, did you draw this?”

“I did!” Crystal seems to brighten, her face alight with pleasure, at Jaida’s realisation. “Do you like it?”

“Are you kidding? Child, this is amazing!” She traces the outline of the perfect silhouette, still in awe of the work of art she’s holding. Crystal’s talent is immeasurable.

“I was given some photocopies of the designs that are gonna be in the show,” Crystal says. “And I just liked this one so much I knew I had to draw it. Do you know who designed it? The sketch didn’t look like one of Bianca’s.”

“Yeah. It’s not,” Jaida replies, almost shyly. “It’s mine.”

“No way!” Crystal gasps, slamming her palms onto the counter and wincing at the noise she makes. “How are you not, like, head designer? Hell, you could probably take Bianca’s job if you wanted to.”

This gets a laugh out of Jaida. “Bitch, I’d have to pry it from her cold, dead hands!”

“Okay, okay, true. But holy shit, Jaida. This dress is gorgeous. What are you even doing running these silly errands? You should be with all the designers. Why aren’t you with all the designers? I bet Bianca’s just scared you’re gonna outdo her.”

“Don’t let her hear you say that,” Jaida snickers, “but it’s really just that we don’t have enough people yet. We’re still a small brand, so it’s very, like, all hands on deck. Everyone’s gotta do a bit of everything.”

“Oh. I guess that makes sense.” Crystal nods slowly. “How long have you been working with Bianca?”

“A year now,” Jaida replies. “It’s a good job. I get to do a lot of stuff - I’ve designed, sewed, and I did some of the models’ makeup one time.”

“Wow,” Crystal breathes, and Jaida warms at how impressed she looks. “You’ve gotta show me more of your dresses when we do the run-through in a couple days.”

Jaida smiles. “Sure.” There’s a pause before she adds, “what about you? What got you into event coordination?”

“I wanted to be a freelance artist for the longest time,” Crystal explains, shrugging. “But it’s just… not easy making a living like that. So I found some jobs where I could do some art here and there, and this was the first one that stuck.”

“I get that,” Jaida agrees quietly. It’s easy to have big dreams, but making them come true is another story - she feels lucky to have met Bianca when she did. “But with a talent like this,” she continues, gesturing to the flyer in her hands, “I can see you going places. Big places.”

“Aw.” Crystal’s face softens in a smile. “That’s so sweet. Thanks, Jaida.”

“That’s everything,” the girl behind the counter interrupts before Jaida can respond. “You’re with Del Rio, right?”

“Yep.”

“Right. All yours, then.” She gestures to the boxes of flyers and programs before turning away to shut off the printers.

“Welp, let’s get moving,” Crystal says, grunting as she heaves a box off the counter. Jaida follows, pretending not to notice the way Crystal’s tattoos flex as she moves. They load the boxes of flyers and event programs into the car before Crystal slams the boot shut, turning to face Jaida and smiling triumphantly.

“All in a good day’s work,” Jaida says, grinning.

“We were amazing today,” Crystal agrees, putting her hand up for a high-five. Jaida smiles and hits Crystal’s palm with her own.

Crystal tuts. “That was weak,” she tells Jaida. “Come on, you can give me more than that!” She raises her hand again, waving it in Jaida’s face. “Go! Go! Go! Show me what you’ve got!”

“What the fuck,” Jaida laughs, but she complies, whacking Crystal’s hand with as much strength as she can. “Better?”

“Oof,” Crystal groans, shaking out her hand before breaking into a smile. “See? That was much better. I knew you had it in you.”

“You are so crazy.”

“That’s old news, Jaida,” Crystal replies sagely. “Old, old news.”

Jaida snorts, almost in disbelief. Crystal is so amusing.

“I see. Thanks for catching me up,” she says, playing along.

“You’re very welcome.” Crystal grins brightly before opening the car door. “Now let’s take this stuff back so we can go home. I want a warm shower and some food.”

“That sounds amazing,” Jaida murmurs, sliding into the passenger seat beside Crystal.

“Yeah. You know what else sounds amazing?” Crystal asks, grabbing her phone as the car hums to life. “This song. This is the perfect way to end a good day at work.”

A moment later, upbeat, electronic music fills the car, and Crystal immediately begins bobbing her head to the beat.

“Let me guess,” Jaida says, pretending to think, “One Direction?”

Crystal’s brilliant grin is all the confirmation she needs.

They begin driving, and Jaida will admit that while she doesn’t like the song, Crystal’s finally-free-of-work-for-the-day excitement is infectious.

“Baby say yeah, yeah, yeah!” Crystal sings as they’re waiting at a red light.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah!” Jaida joins in, and her chest warms when Crystal turns to her, eyes wide and shining with a pleasant surprise.

“If you don’t wanna take it slow, and you just wanna take me home, baby say yeah, yeah, yeah,” Crystal sings, her gaze flicking expectantly to Jaida.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah!” Jaida finishes. Crystal giggles, bubbly with delight, as the light changes and she resumes driving.

Jaida leans back into the faux leather of the seat, her skin flush with a strange — but not unwelcome — warmth. It feels like Crystal’s presence has touched her in a peculiar way. Her bluebell laughter, her childlike excitement, her wild and wonderful charisma — all of it feels so comfortable to Jaida already, even though she’s only known Crystal for a single day.

She likes Crystal, she’s decided. Crystal with the strange name and the lollipop hair. Crystal who sings along to One Direction in the car. Crystal with the tattoos painting her tanned skin.

Jaida leaves work that evening feeling light on her feet, a lively melody playing on loop in her head. This day turned out better than she could have expected, and she has high hopes for the week ahead.

She hums the melody that’s stuck in her head as she boards the train on her way home. It’s cheerful, upbeat - where did she hear this again?

With a laugh, she realises it’s the One Direction song she and Crystal had sung together on the way back home. Jaida decides it might not be so bad after all.

[rosesareviolentlyread]

Prelude: These Violent Delights Have Violent Ends

First post on whump and of course I decide to take my truly darkest plot and use it. I’m not sure where this is on the dark scale for this community, but I mean I guess beware?  CW: Self-harm, possibly implied suicide attempt, Munchausen Syndrome by Proxy, box boy setting, pet whump setting, modern slavery, domestic abuse, parental abuse, self-whump, caretaker as whumper

Thanks to @ashintheairlikesnow​ for both inspiring me and also letting me use Karen Renford, who may make an appearance in another piece with Ward about his particular taste in pets. “Amen, amen. But come what sorrow can,

It cannot countervail the exchange of joy

That one short minute gives me in her sight.

Do thou but close our hands with holy words,

Then love-devouring death do what he dare;

It is enough I may but -”

DING-DING-DING-DONG….DONG-DING-DING-DONG

The nine-chimed tune interrupts the man’s gravely reading of Shakespeare, causing him to blink, squinting in the fading light of the fireplace at the old grandfather clock that has moved on to loud BONGS to state the late hour.

Pulling off his glasses, the old man rubs at an eye “Oh my, is it already ten? Well, it’s best off to bed for both of us. We can pick up tomorrow” 

In the opposite plush leather armchair, a blonde girl blinks herself awake. Only a round, soft face is visible beneath a warm-knit blanket that cocoons her against the chair like a fly in a spider’s web.

“But Mr. Richard we were ju-u-u-st getting to the good part” Though she pouts her lip, tilting her head slightly with wide eyes to get her way, a yawn betrays her own exhaustion. 

“We can continue tomorrow, Juliet. I know you’ve memorized it already anyways. Now why don’t you run along to bed, pet? I’ve had Anita put on the heavy down comforter, we don’t want you catching another cold. I’ll be up in a minute” The man’s blue eyes drift fondly to the girl, snuggled close by the fire.

 Outside the window, soft snowfall signaled the coming of winter for his mountain home. He’d originally intended for them to seek warmer weather, perhaps in the villa in Italy. It was better for Juliet’s health, but seeing the girl enjoy winter was something they’d been unable to do for a while. With luck, she’d stay healthy enough they could enjoy it for a little longer. 

“Yes, Mr. Richard. Goodnight” With a tired smile, she wraps the overly large blanket around herself like a cloak, looking all the part a child playing dress-up. Warm lips press to the top of his white-haired head, small arms gently embracing him as well as they could from behind the large chair. With practiced ease, he rubs a warm circle on the back of one slender hand, eliciting a slight purr from the girl. And then she was gone, drifting through the house in her makeshift white cloak like a ghost. 

Richard Ward sat for a minute enjoying the fire. He was a lucky man. To have such a wonderful pet, who, while frail, enjoyed every moment of his presence. Who was devoted to every caring touch. The hours of reading to her in fevered delirium, to wheeling her in the garden when her legs refused to work, to petting her head softly when pain made sleep impossible. 

Richard Ward had learned to cherish the bad and the good in life. In business he’d learned to find opportunity in every situation. Unfortunately, it took the death of his own son  for him to take that moment into his personal life.  But now, with Juliet, he cherished the times in health as well as sickness. 

Now, he lived for every moment, every pain and pleasure, intertwined. With the fortune he’d amassed he could do right by his Juliet, by the world. He’d take care of Juliet forever, tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow as the Bard said. 

But first, he had to wait for tomorrow, and Richard Ward didn’t think five more minutes by the fire could hurt its pace. 

So he closed his eyes, enjoying the warmth of fire, happiness, and family, content with his life. 

And woke no more. 

----

In the middle of the night, some phantom pain bolts Juliet upright, covered in her own sweat. The blood of her heart pounds hot in her ears. Nightmares of fear and pain were common in her life, but so was their instant remedy: Mr. Richard. 

So wrapped in the same blanket as earlier, she pads down the hall, letting the warm glow of lights made to look like flickering candles illuminate  her way. 

“M-mr. Richard?” Her eyes feel wet with automatic tears, lip and voice trembling with an unpracticed, inherent ease. Enough to show fear, but not enough to look ugly. She knew she looked ugly when she cried. 

The old oak door to his room creaks open, revealing the same soft flickering light by an empty four-poster bed. With a sigh, fear almost forgotten, she heads for the grand stairs, back to the drawing room. Her silly old man had probably fallen asleep in his chair again. But that was alright. 

Maybe if she was good, if she made up a convincing nightmare, he’d keep reading to her until she fell asleep. Would rub the sore spots she could never tell if were real or imagined any more. The mere thought brought a smile to her face, a quick pace to her light steps. 

But when she entered the room, she found no warmth. The fire had died out into crumbling embers, letting a chill in through the chimney. Yet even its breeze that threatened to freeze her bones didn’t seem to be able to move the suffocating stillness. She felt it creep into her veins, wrong, as she fearfully walked over to Mr. Richard, sat still in the chair facing the only dying light. 

But her eyes softened to see his sleeping face, book open in his lap with eyeglasses set in the spine. The moonlight highlighted his pale, wrinkled face, but it was one she loved. One that took care of her, no matter how much trouble she was. 

Gently she placed a kiss to his forehead to wake him, already imagining his warm touch on her aching limbs-

Only to be met with the same ice in her veins. With the same stillness that threatened to stop her chest. 

“M-Mr. Richard?” She wobbled out, voice honest, not practiced. Truly imperfect, instead of perfectedly so. 

But his body didn’t move. 

So she touched his shoulder. And then grabbed it. And then shook it. 

But his body didn’t move. 

Juliet felt her breath come in small gasps, like when she was sick. But she wasn’t sick, was she? Was this a bad dream? No. Because Mr. Richard woke her from bad dreams but now he wouldn’t wake up. 

No, she just couldn’t wake him, because everything was fine. When everything was fine, Mr. Richard was sad, a kind of slow sad where the world felt too perfectly wrong, too boring. So she just had to make it wrong to make everything perfect again. 

So Juliet did what she’d been trained to do. She reached for the book, for the crisp page, and quickly slid her finger along it until sharp pain and blood dripped warmly from the edge. 

A whimper from her throat, and she held the wrist as more and more blood, impossibly warm from how cold she felt ran almost black in the barely light down her wrist. 

“Mr. Richard, I cut myself, c-can you kiss it better?” Honey voiced, thick, almost saccharine but something felt wrong. Everything felt wrong, her voice couldn’t be right. 

But his body didn’t move. 

So she pressed the bloodied finger to his lips, even as touching them threatened a shiver through her body. 

“See Mr. Richard? It hurts”

But his body didn’t move. 

With a whimper, she tried to think. Why wasn’t it working? He always came when she was hurt.

But sometimes, if it wasn’t enough, he didn’t come. 

Quickly, Juliet crossed to the small table for Mr. Richard’s drinks, grabbing the small knife he used to make the pretty orange twists she liked in hers. 

Back in front of it, in front of the still closed eyelids, she slid the knife along her palm, flinching with practice at too familiar pain. Making the high, pained sound, that one she never knew if was real or not anymore. 

His body didn’t move. 

Juliet felt tears, real tears prick at her eyes. Why wasn’t it good enough? Why wouldn’t he help her? 

She did everything right so he’d help her, so she’d get the caring touches. Like they’d taught her at the Facility. When she was sick in winter, she’d walk outside at night without clothes to stay sick. 

She’d rub dirt in wounds. She’d trip down stairs, she’d slam her hand in doors, she’d burn herself on the oven.

And when Mr. Richard was bored with what she could try, he often helped her. Because sometimes he’d give her medicine and she’d wake up and couldn’t move her legs for days. Sometimes she’d feel sick to her stomach from a drink he’d give her, until she puked for hours.

That’s it. He just wanted her to try harder. To be a good girl and go back to doing it all herself. She had to earn his caring touch. And Juliet could do that. 

Determined, she climbed the two-story staircase in the entrance hall, heart thumping. This would work, and Mr. Richard would wake up, and he’d take care of her. He’d hand feed her soup again, and gently brush her hair. He’d read her Shakespeare until she fell asleep, and bring treats from his business partners who wished her a speedy recovery. Everything would be fine. 

So why was she crying? 

With tears in her eyes, Juliet climbed the barrister, staring down at the black marble floor far below, almost swallowed in darkness. The blanket fell to the floor, a pile like pale bones in a pit. 

She pushed off, and her world exploded into painful darkness as the scream was ripped from her throat. 

--

‘Anita’ wasn’t sure how much of this she could take. Richard Ward was on the board of WRU, and she was so, so, so close to figuring out where the sick old man kept some of the emails, the dealings, the proof of WRU’s real workings. With his tech empire, they suspected Ward helped them target potential ‘candidates’. Helped them recruit and hire handlers with the appropriate mentality off the dark web. It was enough potential dirt for them to make real progress in the Pet-Lib movement. If only she could figure out where he kept it. 

And it’d been an easy enough job. A boring one, honestly, as she cleaned the house under the flimsy false identity of an illegal immigrant the man had barely bothered to check. She even got enough money to live on and give a fat check to the safe houses from it, damn rich bastard. 

But she was ready to tell them, tell Tara, she couldn’t do it anymore. Couldn’t watch this fucker and his pet, whatever he’d made the poor girl into. 

At first, she’d thought it was true, that he’d just gotten some pet with a lot of health issues. 

But then she’d seen the girl purposefully trip, break fingers, grab a burning hot plate straight from the oven. Seen her do those things without wincing and then let the tears fall so perfectly. Fall into his touch, the touch and care that made the old man beam.

She’d even found the goddamn name for it. Munchausen Syndrome by Proxy. Pleasure at taking care of someone so much that you cause them pain, make them to get sick, just to make them better yourself.

Richard Ward ordered a pet that would hurt itself for his touch, for his care. They’d turned a girl into some sick pain robot, and Mia didn’t even want to think how. She could barely watch now, wondering how he manufactured the illness and pain Juliet took with thankful smile, for the chance that he’d be kind. 

Figures there’d be someone somehow as fucked up as Karen Renford in WRU. 

So yeah, Mia was ready to quit being ‘Anita’, because even if she knew what she was doing could help kids from not becoming like Juliet, she wasn’t sure how much she could take watching. 

It was with this thought that Mia started and ended each day, determined to quit the day after tomorrow if she couldn’t find the files. 

Unlocking the door, Mia felt the similar tug of dread, ran through the same conversation Tara had taught her to help her get through when these undercover missions were hard. When she couldn’t just grab a pet and run like she wanted.

But something felt...off. ‘Anita’ was always first to arrive, to open the obscene curtains, to transform the vintage fashioned home from night to day. She was used to the entrance being cold, the fires being out. Weird guy also had a fetish for the life of antiquity, but Anita had gotten used to it. But today, the coldness seemed to seep into her bones. 

Probably should’ve just brought another sweater she thought as she walked through the service entrance, opening curtains as she went. 

Kitchen, dining room, tea room, sitting room. It was actually pretty satisfying to watch the light suddenly dance in, dim streaks through trees in the early morning. 

Or at least it was until she saw it fall on the body of Richard Ward, causing her to jump back, nearly  knocking over probably worth more than she’d make in her entire life. 

“Oh, Mr. Ward! I didn’t see you there.” Her heart threatened to flutter out of her chest, so much so that she’d almost forgotten her ‘accent’. She hoped he wouldn’t notice. 

But there was no response. 

Cautiously, Mia walked over, touching the old man’s shoulder to gently wake him.

It was stiff, cold. Dead. 

The fucker was dead. Pale as a ghost except for the tiny smear of dried blood on his face. 

The same dried, dark brown blood  that was dripped over his body, onto the book, onto the carpet, on the table holding the bar cart’s knife coated in the same. Dried blood. 

Quietly, Mia picked up the knife, the only weapon in reach. Nothing else was out of place, and as much as she wished it was, the blood didn’t seem to be Ward’s.

She tiptoed out of the room, following the dripped and dried bloody path into the entrance way. By the ridiculously ostentatious staircase, under the overhang, was a small...lump. Squinting her eyes in the dim entrance way, Mia could make out what looked like an slender arm, a head of blonde-

f u c k, fuck fuckFuckFUCK

The hardest thing about this job had been keeping her potty mouth to herself and playing the part of some Downton Abbey-esque servant in keeping with the man’s antiquated tastes. But upon seeing the small body, twisted at odd angles beneath the second floor overhang, her gut told her this job deserved every version of fuck imaginable. 

Scrambling over to the small girl Mia knelt down, hands shaking as she felt around the throat for a pulse that wasn’t the one banging in her ears. It took a minute of pressing, of forcing herself to breathe dammit before she found it, weak, but definitely there. 

Gently, so gently so as to not jostle her neck or head, Mia stroked a hand over Juliet’s brow, the way she’d seen Ward do countless times when the girl was sick. Mia tried to stop trembling, to stop thinking about how maybe if she’d told Tara about Ward, about his taste in pets, they would’ve focused on rescuing Juliet instead.

 If Mia hadn’t been determined to hide the real Ward so they could have their cake and eat it too. 

“C’mon baby girl, wake up for me. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, please, fuck, please wake up” The words fell, soft and pleading from her lips. 

Hazy blue-grey eyes blinked up at her, slow, glassy with pain. The body attempted to shift, only to whimper with pain, real pain. Not the fake whimper Mia had learned, but something deep and animalistic in her throat that reminded Mia more of a street dog than a person.

“There you are. It’s ok, you’re ok” She tried to keep her voice calm, gentle. To not let her hand shake as she thanked whatever god there was in this fucked up world that the girl hadn’t lost too much blood, hadn’t completely cracked her head open, even if her legs looked like snapped twigs. 

After a few moments of mumbled words met by calm shushing noises from Mia, Juliet finally strangled out “‘Nita, why din’t Mr. Richard wake up?” 

Mia paused, upon hearing the slurred, pained words. This wasn’t an accident. Juliet had done this to wake him up. Because the man had a second-sense for any pain in his vicinity. Even if he was a demon, not even the call of his previous pet’s pain was enough to bring his sadistic ass back from hell. Thank God.

A whimper, and Mia was immediately pulled back from her thoughts, petting the girl’s head. Because it didn’t matter where that sick fuck was. He was dead, Mia hadn’t found out where he kept his things, and she had only a few hours before other servants got here. Only a few hours to do something right on this mission.

“Shh, it’s ok. I’m gonna get you help ok? You’re gonna be ok”

Reaching into her uniform, Mia groped for the burner phone constantly pressed against her chest. At least bras were useful for hiding things, as much as she hated them. She breathed through her nose, steadying her breath and hoping questions could wait as she pressed the number.

“Tara? Yeah, I need an evac for me and a pet at Ward’s yesterday.”

Because this was Mia’s fault, because she waited for tomorrow’s petty pace to paint her a yesterday lighted fool.