#yeah i like how this looks more too but it also just feels better

[suiana]

yandere! officer who holds a rather high rank in the military. he's proud of it too! i mean, it's the 1800s. how many men do you know that hold the rank of an an officer? and a high ranked one too at that! not many, that's for sure.

yandere! officer who's ALSO your childhood friend. how convenient is that, huh? you would hate it if he was also your fiancé, huh? 😂😂😂 i mean, what an absolute COINCIDENCE that would be... oh yeah, did i mention he was the one who proposed marriage? not your father, not his father. him.

"father, must i really get married to him? he's just my friend!" yet, your words fall on deaf ears as your father merely lets out a sigh and shakes his head. damn it, there's no getting through to him. it's like he's already made up his mind. "I've already told you, he's a good man to marry. you should be happy that such a noble man wants you." yeah, noble status. that's all there is, huh? it's not like you can say anything though. you're just the child of a small no name noble, who are you to reject someone who's highly respected in the military? but hey, at the very least it's your childhood friend that you're close with. you're sure that he just wants your friendship out of this. it's not like he's madly in love with you or anything...

yandere! officer who's definitely in love with you. you don't even have to be a genius to know that, just looking at him will tell anyone and everyone that he's madly enamoured. and as always, everyone but you knows it.

"you love me?" your breath hitches, eyes widening as you feel a warm flush creep up your cheeks. no way... he... likes you? your childhood best friend who's been showing obvious signs of a crush ever since the two of you were kids? "yes... i would think that was obvious by now." his words are flat, face deadpanning at you. despite the exasperation in his tone, his eyes are soft and the corner of his lips are upturned. "you are the only one in my heart, mein liebling."

yandere! officer that has a different side he shows to others and one reserved specifically for you. he only ever bears his heart and soul to you, his future spouse. he could care less for others, you come first and foremost. sure he might have pledged allegiance to the nation but you're his one and only. he'd betray the country if it's for you, throw away everything he's worked for just to make you happy.

yandere! officer who has discovered your... apreciation for his uniform. he finds it interesting to say the least. oh, so you think he looks attractive? he doesn't get what's so good looking about his uniform but he'll gladly wear it more often if you like it so much.

"schatz, i need to change out of my uniform-" "just give me a minute..." your fiancé could only look down in silence as you stared intensely at his attire. you're doing it again. he doesn't even know what you're doing, just staring at his uniform with your pretty eyes and serious expression. he thinks you're appreciating him but he's not quite sure. you never say anything after all. all you do is simply stare quietly. you don't even as much as touch him! "you can... touch, y'know? you don't need to just stare." he sure hopes you do. what he'd give to feel your hands on him... and he's pretty sure you want to touch him too. or maybe you want him to touch you? "can i?" "of course you can. we are to be married anyway." "nah... i think I'll just... look..." man. looks like he's going to be just standing here for a while, huh? oh well, as long as you're happy. it's not like he has anything better to do anyway.

[plainclothesdisaster]

Danny opens the door to his apartment to find one Jason Todd on his doormat, knuckles raised as if about to knock, tupperware in hand. Surprise surprise.

“Uh,” Jason lowers his hand. Maybe Danny should have let him actually knock- better to keep up appearances, like he couldn’t sense Jason anytime they’re within a three block radius of each other. But he’s tired- so goddamn tired- of this whole charade.

“What’s on the menu today?” He levels Jason with a look.

“Soup. Lentils. It’s, uh, high protein. Very healthy.”

Danny shouldn’t find Jason’s floundering so cute, knowing what he knows. But seeing as he didn’t ask for this (in fact, he explicitly asked for /not/ this), he thinks he’s allowed a little fun.

“Healthy, huh?”

Jason nods, and presents the container for him to take. Instead Danny swings the door wider.

“You might as well come in.”

//

Jason sits at the modest kitchen table as Danny sets a mug of warmed soup in front of him, then takes his own seat, another mug in hand.

He hasn’t actually been inside Danny’s apartment before, he’d always just left the meals outside his door. Bruce had been coy about sharing details on his top Watchtower engineer, but the breadcrumbs from the case files told enough of the story: Danny was just a kid barely out of college with a large dose of trauma and way too much responsibility. Bruce had also been clear on one thing: Danny didn’t want help.

That just meant Jason would have to get creative with how he helped him.

But now that he’s actually here, face to face with his most recent pet project, he’s not quite sure what to do. Danny just watches him, completely unmoving, except for his eyes that watch as Jason lifts an awkward spoonful of soup.

“So did Bruce put you up to this?”

Jason sputters over his spoon. “Bruce? Don’t know who you’re talking about. I just saw a neighbor in need, and I cook a lot anyway, so-“

“Sure. And you just happen to deliver only on days I’m not scheduled to be off planet? You’re not slick.”

Jason swallows. He sure does know Danny’s schedule and he sure doesn’t have a good excuse. Danny sighs.

“It’s okay. The food’s good. I’m just trying to figure out, well, why?”

“It was um, implied that Batman’s favorite Watchtower tech could use a home cooked meal or two.”

“He never knows when to leave it alone, huh.”

“Not in the slightest.”

“Then why you? Unless—ah. He must have made the connection to your whole… situation.”

“My what?”

��Okay. Um. So, you do know you died, right?”

Jason chokes on soup. Again.

“Is that a yes…?”

“Yeah,” he croaks, “Yeah I just— How the hell do you know?”

“Ah. Well. That’s a bit of a long story.”

Danny gives him a strained smile and Jason takes a measured breath, not trying very hard to mask his disappointment. He wants to ask for more- desperately- but he shouldn’t. He’s supposed to be helping Danny, not the other way around.

Then Danny takes a spoonful of soup. He leans back in his chair the moment he tastes it. “Goddammit that’s good.”

Jason flushes with pride before Danny pins him with a look that chills him to his toes. His heart races, and he feels for a moment like he’s a bug under a microscope, and he’s not so sure he hates it.

Yet it’s Danny’s crooked smile that follows that makes his heart race even faster.

“Okay. How much time do you have?”

DPxDC Mechanical Engineer Danny

Danny caught the attention of Batman while studying at Gotham University for his alternative energy projects. He’s hired right out of college to work on the Watchtower.

He shows absolutely no tell of his abilities till there’s a dire situation- Flash’s electric discharge messes with one of his projects in progress and the whole base would have lost air pressure if he hadn’t done a quick fix using telekinesis and ice.

Of course Batman notices.

Batman assumes the worst- he suspects Danny’s a rogue of some kind, someone who has infiltrated the Justice League with an ulterior motive. But he can’t just fire Danny now- he’s the only one who knows how the new Watchtower energy source works. Plus, he’s not letting Danny go anywhere until he’s figured out his true motives.

Cue Batman subtly testing Danny- tossing things at him to trigger inhuman fast reflexes, having him lift too-heavy machinery, setting up convenient opportunities to steal or snoop or otherwise be up to no good. Danny does take advantage but only once, to use a computer terminal with unlocked clearance. He didn’t plant any bugs that Barman could find, and he otherwise kept up his powerless civilian act perfectly.

Still, Batman’s not satisfied. He brings an infrasonic sound emitter to Danny’s lab one day, and that, of all things, is what gets Danny to break.

“I know what you’re doing,” Danny admits with a sigh, finally. “If you’re really that suspicious of me, I can leave, but I kinda like my job so I’d prefer not to. The benefits are insane compared to what’s standard.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Sure. yeah. How about you turn off the freaking noise generator and we can talk?”

“Hm.” Batman obliges, and he takes the stool next to Danny at his gesture.

“Number one, I’m not a meta. Despite all the data and conclusions you’ve probably drawn otherwise. Number two, I’m on your side. I’m here to work on the base, that’s it. I follow your rules to the letter.”

“The-“

“The classified files I looked at? Yeah that was the one exception. You already know what I looked at, I’m sure, but maybe you haven’t figured out why. It goes back to point one- I may not be a meta, but I am something that organization, the GIW, cares about. I looked at your files on them to sus out your relations. Seeing as I don’t particularly love being the victim to twelve degrees of human rights violations if I can avoid it.”

“Hm.” The Ghost Intelligence Ward was one of many government agencies that the Justice League hadn’t worked closely with. But they also hadn’t been flagged for Justice League investigation. Danny’s comments made him doubt that call.

“Any other questions?”

“If you’re not a meta, what are you?”

“I’m an engineer. A pretty decent one. And I’d really, really like it to stay that way.”

Batman considers, and ultimately lets him stay. He likes Danny (everyone likes Danny), and it would be a massive pain in the ass to replace him. He really is a good engineer.

It’s only much later that his faith in Danny is repaid in spades.

Batman finds Danny on the Watchtower command bridge. Alarms are blaring, the station has been knocked out of orbit, out the window there’s shrapnel floating everywhere as a space battle rages around them.

On the station it’s chaos. Technicians run around, shouts from the med bay, sparks from the walls.

Batman and Danny stand at the main controls, watching the battle outside, stoic, unmoving.

Wonder Woman’s harried voice crackles through on coms: “We need backup.”

“There is no more backup.” Batman replies, while looking pointedly at Danny.

“What?”

Batman doesn’t move.

“What.”

“The impact from Darkseid’s initial attack should have sent this station on a terminal trajectory toward the planet.”

“Well. We aren’t currently plummeting to our deaths, so turns out it didn’t do that.”

“You did something.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You’re lying.”

“Maybe Superman nudged us back on course in all the chaos.”

“I’ve been watching the trackers. No one else with the capability has come near the station.”

“Can’t you just be grateful we got lucky?”

Sounds of peril screech over the coms. Danny’s face scrunches.

“Luck had nothing to do with it. As it is now, we are going to lose this fight.”

“Isn’t there anyone else you can call?”

“I’m asking you. You can help, can’t you?”

The glare-off lasts a long moment more before Danny breaks.

“Fuck. Fuckity fuck.” Danny runs his hands through his hair. “Shit. You don’t know what you’re asking.”

“I’m asking you to save this and countless other worlds from a genocide. I’m also asking you to save my friends.”

Danny looks at him, hard, weary, and with a kind of deep resolve that feels far too ancient to be on the face of a supposed twenty-something.

“Fine. Fine. Okay.” He steps back and transforms. If Batman is surprised when he shakes off his human appearance like an old coat, he doesn’t show it. But what’s undeniable is the being in Danny’s place has the unmistakable presence of power.

“No one else can know.” His voice echoes in a way that’s sonically impossible, both sounding closer and further away than he should be.

He pulls a gear-shaped medallion seemingly out of thin air and puts it over his head in one motion.

“If I get in trouble for this, I’m blaming you.”

He vanishes. Outside, the shape of the battle changes instantly. The stars seem to glow brighter as the arms of the galaxy flash with the colors of the aurora. Then it’s like the void of space itself comes alive. It moves the spaceships back like they’re toys, plucking them from one side of the field to the other. It finds Darkseid at the heart of the chaos and massive arms of nothingness and darkness wrap around him. He’s screaming as it swallows him whole.

His armies scatter. The battle turns. The JL deal with the stragglers, but the air of relief is palpable.

Danny reappears next to Batman, once again donning his grease-stained coveralls. Arms folded.

“Happy?”

It took all of five minutes. Less, probably. Batman tamps down a thousand questions.

“Thank you.”

“I’m gonna need two weeks off minimum.” Danny snaps. “One to deal with the bureaucratic nightmare you’ve just caused me, and another to recover from the headache.”

Batman blanks. “Granted.”

Danny sighs. “And I’m not fixing the station until I’m back. It won’t fall out of the sky as is. Make up whatever excuse you want.”

“Done.” He considers. “I would prefer to tell them the truth. That you saved us.”

Danny glares. “I’m not supposed to save you. I made a pact not to use my power to influence the mortal realm.”

“A pact with who?”

Danny rolls his eyes. “The embodiment of Time. The concept of Justice. Among others.” He smirks at Batman’s confusion.

“And what, exactly, does that make you?”

He stands, framed by the space window, haloed by the stars. “I’ll give you three guesses.”

Batman frowns.

“Look. I like you guys. I like working on your base. I like supporting the work you do. But you can not go factoring me in to any of your plans or contingencies. This was a one time thing.

“So to answer your question again: I’m an engineer.”

[mindmelter]

A Better Marcus Than Marcus

It all started when my sister’s boyfriend, Marcus, did a complete 180. The guy used to be your textbook finance bro—straight-laced, all about stocks, cryptos, and protein shakes. He was also the type who’d casually flex his "intellectual superiority" at family dinners like he was the human embodiment of a TED Talk nobody asked for.

Then, out of nowhere, he turned into this fun, carefree dude. He started to grow his hair and beard and constantly walk shirtless, showcasing his unfairly perfect pair of pecs and set of abs. He even tattooed his arm—something I would never expect from him. It wasn’t just a change in style; it was like he had become a totally different person.

I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. Then it hit me—my sister’s ex, Dylan, a scrawny hippie who could’ve been the poster child for essential oils and “love, man” vibes. Dylan and I had gotten along great back in the day, mostly because he shared a little secret with me: a drug. No, not this kind of drug. This stuff could turn anyone into a bodysuit. Yeah, you heard me. One hit of this thing, and you could empty someone out, leaving behind a perfectly usable, skin-tight vessel. Thanks to him, I solved my bullying problem at school by wearing the jock leader's body.

Then, one day, Dylan disappeared from our lives after my sister dumped him. No warning, no goodbye, nothing. I thought that was the end of it. Turns out, it wasn’t.

Fast-forward to tonight. We’re having a family dinner at my parents’ house, and Marcus is here, all smiles and carefree vibes, making dumb jokes with my parents. It was the perfect chance to test my theory. I waited until everyone was distracted with dessert and pulled Marcus aside to a quiet corner of the house.

“I need to talk to you,” I whispered, trying to keep my voice low.

He cocked an eyebrow but followed me. Once we were out of earshot, I didn’t waste any time.

“I know you’re not really Marcus,” I said, crossing my arms. “I know it’s you, Dylan.”

For a moment, he just stared at me, then a wide grin spread across his face. “Took you long enough, bro,"

He opened his robe even more to show me his muscular body, looking like he was showing me an outfit and not another man's skin, “Yeah, it’s me. Poor Marcus never saw it coming. Injected this asshole with the stuff after he dropped your sister at your house, and bam! Marcus went to bodysuit city.” He chuckled darkly. “I’ve been living my best life ever since and with the love of my life."

I’ll admit, I wasn’t surprised. But hearing it confirmed still left my mouth agape.

"So, what now? You gonna rat me out to your sister? You wouldn't do that to good old Dylan here, would you? Not after I helped you turn your jock bully into a bodysuit. I even helped you out at faking his disappearance, I had to drive to another state to get rid of that bodysuit."

I smirked. “That depends. What’s in it for me?”

Dylan—or Marcus, I guess—laughed. “Alright, how about this: I let you enjoy Marcus’s body anytime you want, as long as you keep your mouth shut.”

It was a twisted offer, but let’s be real—I’d had a thing for Marcus since day one. The chance to have him, even under these bizarre circumstances, was too good to pass up.

“Deal,” I said, extending a hand.

“You’ve got yourself a deal, bro,” he replied, shaking my hand. Before we could head upstairs, my sister caught us in the hallway.

“Where are you two going?” she asked.

Thinking quickly, Dylan—Marcus—flashed his charming smile. “Your brother wanted to show me his collectible…uh…vinyl record collection. Said he’s got some rare finds.”

She bought it. “Wow, bonding over music. Finally. I’m proud of you two. Don't take too long, we're going to have karaoke." She leaned forward to give Marcus a kiss and walked away.

As soon as we were in my room, the facade dropped. I locked the door, and he turned to me, that sly grin back on his face. “Alright, bro,” he said, taking off his already unbuttoned white shirt and letting it fall to the floor. “Let’s see what you’ve been fantasizing about.”

I immediately pushed him down onto his knees, grabbing a handful of his long hair to assert control. “You’re going to start by sucking me off like a good slut,” I whispered.

His grin widened as he complied, reaching for my pants and pulling them down. His warm mouth quickly wrapped around me, and I let out a satisfied groan as he worked his tongue expertly. Once my cock was slick and throbbing, I pulled him back by his hair, forcing him to look up at me.

“Get on the bed, on all fours, now! You're my secret boyfriend slut now,” I ordered. He obeyed, taking off his pants and crawling onto the bed completely naked with his huge ass waiting for me. It was the sight I've been dreaming of ever since my sister introduced Marcus.

I walked over to my desk and turned on some rock music to muffle what was about to happen.

Climbing onto the bed behind him, I gripped his long hair tightly as I positioned myself. Without hesitation, I thrust into him hard, using his hair as leverage. Dylan moaned as I filled Marcus' ass. This wasn't our first time together. When Dylan was wearing my hot bully's body, he let me fuck him as a final revenge before he dumped the bodysuit in another state.

Marcus' back arched, and he let out a muffled moan, the sound drowned out by the loud music. I didn’t let up, pulling his hair like reins as I pounded into him mercilessly.

I leaned down on his back as I filled Dylan's—Marcus' ass with my cum. “You make a better Marcus."

[gf2bellamy]

Hello!

Can you do a spencer x reader where there was a hard case and in the way back on the jet spencer takes care of reader? maybe they fall asleep together in the couch. Derek and Prentiss gossiping about them. Hotchner happy for them.

Thanks love 🩵

doubt — spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid x reader ( no use of y/n ) content warnings: mention of victims, feelings of guilt, a/n: thank you for your request !! <3 hope you like this also derek and emily r so me i'd gossip too

The jet hummed as it cut through the night sky, a constant, rhythmic drone filling the quiet cabin. It was a sound you had grown used to, one that usually wrapped around you like a cocoon of familiarity after long, grueling cases. But tonight, it didn't help. 

Your mind was elsewhere.The faces of the victims haunted you, their unfinished stories clawing at you. You had done everything you could. You knew that. But the ghosts of "what if" still lingered. 

You stood near the small coffee machine, fingers loosely curled around a cooling mug. You hadn't taken a sip. You weren’t sure how long you’d been standing there, staring blankly at the darkness outside the window, your mind replaying every decision, every clue, every missed sign. Searching for something—anything—you could have done differently. 

"Hi." 

The quiet voice pulled you from the fog of your thoughts, and you turned slightly, blinking as Spencer stood beside you. He wasn’t looking at you, not directly, but instead at the untouched coffee in your hands. His own fingers fidgeted at his sides—an unconscious habit of his, one you’d come to recognize over time. 

"You haven’t had a sip." His voice was soft, careful.

You exhaled a small, humorless breath. "Didn’t really feel like it." 

Spencer nodded, his eyes flicking up to meet yours for just a moment before settling on the floor. "It was a hard case." 

You swallowed against the lump forming in your throat and nodded. "They’re all hard." 

"Yeah," he agreed, his voice quieter now. "But some of them stay with you longer than others." 

A heavy silence stretched between you, thick with unspoken thoughts. You knew Spencer understood.

Maybe better than anyone.

"I keep thinking about what we missed," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. "If we had just caught something sooner, maybe they—" 

"You can’t do that to yourself," Spencer interrupted gently. "We did everything we could. You did everything you could." 

You wanted to believe that. Needed to. But the doubt still clung to you, stubborn and unrelenting. 

Spencer hesitated for a second before shifting closer, his fingers brushing lightly against yours where they gripped the mug. It was the smallest touch, barely there, but enough to comfort you for a second. Enough to remind you that you weren’t alone in this. 

"Come sit with me?" he asked, his voice almost hesitant.

For a moment, you considered saying no, retreating back into the safety of your solitude. But the exhaustion in Spencer’s eyes mirrored your own, and you realized—maybe you weren’t the only one who needed this. 

You sat down next to each other on the couch, your body sinking into the plush seat with a quiet sigh. Spencer sat beside you, close enough that you could feel his warmth, but not quite touching.

Your arm rested along the back of the couch, fingers absentmindedly tracing the fabric as you stared ahead. Spencer remained silent for a moment, as if carefully considering his words. 

"You know," he started, his voice barely above a murmur, "statistically, most law enforcement professionals experience some level of post-case guilt, even when they’ve done everything right. It’s—" he hesitated, then continued more softly, "it’s normal to feel like this." 

You huffed a quiet breath. "That doesn’t make it any easier." 

"No," he admitted. "It doesn’t." 

There was another pause, but it wasn’t uncomfortable.

"But…" Spencer shifted slightly, his knee brushing against yours. "It helps to remember that what we do matters. Even when it doesn’t feel like enough. Even when it hurts." He glanced at you then, his brown eyes searching yours. "Because if we weren’t there—if you weren’t there—it would be worse. And that has to mean something." 

Something in your chest tightened at his words. Spencer wasn’t one for empty reassurances. He never said things just to say them. So you knew, without a doubt, that he meant every word. 

You let out a slow breath, your body finally allowing itself to release some of the tension you’d been holding. Without thinking too much about it, you shifted closer, resting your head against his shoulder. 

For a moment, he tensed, just slightly, like he wasn’t expecting it. But then, just as quickly, he relaxed. You felt him tilt his head, the warmth of his cheek resting lightly against your hair. 

Neither of you spoke. There was nothing more that needed to be said. 

The hum of the jet and the rhythm of his breathing all of it lulled you into a drowsy calm. And as your eyelids fluttered closed, the last thing you felt was Spencer’s fingers ghosting over your arm in the lightest touch.

Across the cabin, Derek and Emily sat across from each other, a deck of playing cards scattered between them on the table. The game had lost its appeal somewhere around the third round, both of them too drained from the case to focus, but neither ready to sleep just yet. 

It was Emily who noticed first. She had been mid-sip of her coffee when her gaze drifted toward the couch, and her eyebrows lifted slightly in surprise. Nudging Derek’s foot under the table, she tilted her head in their direction. 

Derek followed her gaze, and a slow grin spread across his face. 

"Well, well," he murmured, leaning back in his seat. "Would you look at that?" 

Emily smirked, setting her mug down. "About time, don’t you think?" 

Spencer and you were curled together on the small jet couch, your head tucked against his shoulder, his resting gently against yours. His arm had shifted somewhere during the flight, now draped lightly along the back of the seat, fingers barely brushing against your shoulder in sleep.

And for the first time all night, you both looked… peaceful. 

Derek shook his head, amusement flickering in his eyes. "I knew Pretty Boy had it in him. Took him long enough, though." 

Emily chuckled, crossing her arms. "We should let them sleep. I think they both needed it." 

"Yeah, yeah," Derek said, waving a hand. But the teasing glint in his eye remained. "Doesn’t mean I won’t bring this up later." 

Just then, a shadow shifted in the doorway. 

Aaron Hotchner stood near the back of the cabin, watching the two of you with something almost unnoticeable softening his usually serious expression. 

Emily and Derek exchanged a glance before Derek leaned forward, keeping his voice low. "So, what do you think, Hotch? Should we start taking bets?" 

Hotch exhaled a quiet breath, shaking his head. His gaze flickered back toward you and Spencer, and for a moment, something warm crossed his expression. A quiet kind of approval. 

Without another word, Hotch turned, making his way toward his seat. 

Emily smirked, leaning toward Derek. "That’s a yes on the betting pool, by the way." 

Derek let out a low chuckle, shaking his head as they settled back into their seats.

And on the couch, nestled against Spencer, you slept on—blissfully unaware of the knowing smiles around you. 

[mangionebabymama]

“six thirty” — Luigi Mangione

“Whatcha gonna do when I’m bored and I wanna play video games at 2 am? What if I need a friend? Will you ride ‘til the end?” - “six thirty” by Ariana Grande

Word Count: 3.0k

Warnings: LOTS of pining and yearning, sort of slow-burn online romance, but it's also platonic, maybe? This also contains some slight mentions of depression and loneliness; please proceed with caution.

A/N: Inspired by this ask from a while ago, where those particular lyrics of "six thirty" about playing video games at 2 am have always stuck with me. If you don't know this about me by now, I am a Cancer sun, and it shows. I am emotional, and I'm going to be an emotional writer. Please note that this is purely fictional, but these feelings are real.

The glow of Luigi’s monitor lit up the dim room, casting long shadows across the walls. It was 2 a.m., and the quiet hum of his computer was the only sound breaking the silence. He shifted in his chair, wincing slightly as the faded memories of his surgery still lingered in his movements. Recovery had been slow, and lately, he’d found himself retreating into the digital world more and more. The real world felt heavy, distant—like it wasn’t his anymore. Like he was watching his life happen from somewhere far away. His family and friends tried to reach out, but he’d been pulling away, retreating into himself.

His cursor hovered over his Steam library, scrolling aimlessly. He wasn’t even sure what he was looking for. Just something to fill the void. That’s when he noticed it—the little green dot next to your username. You were online. His heart gave a little leap, and before he could reconsider his decision, a notification appeared from you.

Can’t sleep either? Is it the insomnia again or were you hoping to see if I was up?

Luigi’s fingers flew over the keyboard for a moment, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips despite the heaviness in his chest. He glanced at the clock on his desk— now 2:01 AM—and then back at the glowing screen of his monitor. The room was darkling, lit only by the soft blue light of his computer, and the hum of the fan inside the tower was the only sound accompanying his thoughts.

Pep: Both.

The reply came almost instantaneously, like a reflex, as if you’d been waiting for him. 

You: Figured. You’ve been on late a lot lately. Not that I’m complaining—company’s nice.

Luigi leaned back in his chair, letting out a slow breath. His back ached faintly, a dull reminder of the surgery he’d had months ago. The doctors had said he’d recover fully, but they hadn’t warned him about the mental toll it would take. The weeks spent in bed, staring at the ceiling, had given him too much time to think. And now, even though he was physically better, he couldn’t shake the weight that seemed to settle deeper into his chest every day.

Pep: Yeah, I guess I have. Sleeping’s been… hard.

You: Hard as in “can’t fall asleep” or hard as in “don’t want to”?

Luigi hesitated. You always seemed to know the right questions to ask, the questions that cut straight through the noise and got to the heart of things. He wasn’t sure if it was comforting or terrifying.

Pep: Both.

There was a pause before your next message appeared. 

You: You’ve been quiet lately. Not just tonight—like, in general. Even when we’re playing. You okay?

He stared at the words, his chest tightening. How does she always know? He wondered. You’d never met in person, never even seen each other’s faces, but somehow, you always seemed to see him. 

Pep: I don’t know. I guess… I’ve just been feeling kind of lost. I don’t even know how to explain it.

You: Try. 

Luigi let out a short, humorless laugh. Leave it to you to cut straight to the point. He ran a hand through his hair, trying to find the words.

Pep: It’s like… everything just feels heavy, you know? Like I’m just going through the motions. I’ve been distancing myself from everyone—my family, my friends—but I don’t even know why. I just… I can’t seem to connect with anything anymore. Except this. 

He added, gesturing to the screen even though you couldn’t see him. 

Talking to you. Playing games. It’s like the only time I feel… I don’t know, alive, I guess. 

The cursor blinked as he waited for your response, his heart beating a little faster than it should have.

After a moment, you wrote back. 

You: You’re not alone in that. I think a lot of people feel that way sometimes. Especially now, with everything going on in the world. It’s easy to get lost in your own head.

Pep: But it’s not just that. It’s like… I’m stuck. Like I’m just watching my life pass by, and I don’t know how to make it stop. I don’t know how to fix it.

There was another pause, longer this time.

You: Have you talked to anyone about this? Like, really talked?

Luigi shook his head, though he knew you couldn’t see him. 

Pep: Not really. I don’t want to bother anyone with it. And I don’t even know what I’d say.

You: You’re not bothering me

And you don’t have to have all the answers. Sometimes, just saying it out loud helps.

Or typing it out, lol

He smiled faintly, a warmth spreading through his chest that he hadn’t felt in a long time. 

Pep: Thanks. Seriously. I don’t know what I’d do without you.

You: Probably be even more of a mess

You joked about that last bit of your message, and he could almost hear the teasing tone in your voice as he let out a chuckle reading what you said. 

Pep: Ya, probably

There was a comfortable silence between you both, broken only by the soft sound of his keyboard as he typed some more.

What about you? Why are you up so late?

You: Couldn’t sleep either. Insomnia’s a bitch. Plus, I was kind of hoping you’d be on.

Luigi’s heart skipped a beat, and he had to remind himself to breathe.

Pep: Yeah?

You: Yeah. You make the nights better.

He felt his face heat up.

Pep: You make them better, too. 

Another pause preceded your following message.

You: You know, it’s okay to not be okay. And it’s okay to lean on people when you need to. You don’t have to go through this alone.

Luigi stared at the words, his throat tightening. He wasn’t sure if it was the late hour or the raw honesty of the conversation, but he felt tears prick at the corners of his eyes. He typed, his fingers lingering uncertainly over the keys.

Pep: I don’t want to be a burden. 

You: You’re not a burden. 

If anything, you’re the opposite. You’re important to me, Luigi—more than you realize.

His breath caught in his throat, and he had to blink back the tears that threatened to fall. 

Pep: You’re important to me too.

His hands shook as he typed. 

More than I think I’ve ever admitted.

There was a long silence, and for a moment, he wondered if he’d said too much. Yet, your response showed up, and he felt a surge of adrenaline in his chest.

You: Maybe we should admit it more. To each other. To ourselves. Life’s too short to keep everything bottled up.

Luigi nodded, even though you couldn’t see him.

Pep: Yeah. Maybe we should.

He tilted back in his seat, caught in a strange sensation of relief intertwined with fragility. He wasn’t sure where this conversation was going, but at last, he felt like he wasn’t alone.

You: You know…

Sometimes, I think about what it would be like to meet you in person.

Luigi felt a flutter in his heart once more. 

Pep: Yeah?

You: Yeah. I think it’d be… nice. To talk face-to-face. To really see you.

Pep: I think it’d be nice too.

You: Maybe, one day, we will

Pep: One day, for sure

The cursor blinked on the screen, expecting the next words to appear. For once, Luigi felt a spark of something he hadn’t felt in months: hope.

You: Until then, I’m here. 

Whenever you need me.

Luigi smiled, his chest swelling with gratitude. 

Pep: Same goes for you. Always.

The cursor blinked lazily on the screen, as if it, too, was holding on for Luigi to gather his courage. He sat in the dim glow of his monitor, the rest of the room swallowed by the darkness of the early hours. His fingers hovered over the keyboard, shaking, as if betraying the weight of the words he was about to type. He swallowed hard, his throat dry.

Why now? He thought. Why does it feel like I can only tell the truth at 2 a.m. when the world is asleep?

But he knew the answer. It wasn’t the time that mattered. It was you. The way you listened without judgment and your words seemed to reach into the parts of him he’d locked away. You made him feel like maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t as broken as he thought.

He took a deep breath, his chest tightening as he started typing.

Pep: There’s something I’ve never told anyone.

He wrote away, his words appearing on the screen in a rush as if they were desperate to escape. He paused, his heart pounding in his ears. Was he really going to do this? Was he really going to lay himself bare like this?

Just as he was about to second-guess himself, your reply appeared up.

You: You can tell me anything, Luigi. You know that.

He exhaled shakily, his fingers moving almost of their own accord.

Pep: It’s about why I’ve been so… distant lately. It’s not just the surgery. Not just the insomnia. It’s… I’ve always felt like I don’t belong. Like I’m on the outside looking in. Even with everybody in my life. I try to act like I’m okay, like I’m fine, but I’m not. I haven’t been for a long time.

He stopped, his chest heaving as if he’d just run a marathon. His eyes darted to the clock in the corner of the screen—2:04 AM. The world was still asleep, but he felt more awake than in months.

Your reply came quickly, longing for him to say those words all along. 

You: That’s a heavy burden to carry alone. You don’t have to, you know. You’re not as alone as you think you are.

Luigi’s lips trembled as he absorbed your words, a tight knot swirling in his throat. Deep down, he yearned to trust you, to hold on to the fragile hope that he wasn’t as solitary as he often felt. Yet, the weight of loneliness pressed heavily on him, an ever-present shadow that made believing in that hope a daunting challenge.

Pep: It’s not just that

He typed, his fingers moving faster now, as if they couldn’t keep up with the thoughts tumbling out of his head. 

I’ve been struggling 

with something else

Something I’ve never told anyone. Not even my closest friends.

The cursor blinked mockingly, sitting tight for him to continue. He swallowed hard, his stomach churning. This was it. The moment of truth. The moment he either let it all out or shut it away forever.

You: Take your time, Luigi. I’m here.

He closed his eyes for a moment, gathering his courage. When he opened them, he started typing again, the words spilling out, his cup runneth over with transparency. 

Pep: I’ve always felt like I was different. Like there was something wrong with me. Something I couldn’t put into words. It’s not just the loneliness. It’s like… I’ve been searching for something my whole life, but I don’t know what it is. And it’s tearing me apart.

His hands trembled as he pressed the enter key, the letters materializing on the screen in sharp black and white. A rush of vulnerability washed over him, as if he had peeled away a layer of skin, revealing the raw, bleeding chaos lurking beneath. It was an eerie sensation, as though he was standing naked before an unseen audience, laid bare and utterly exposed.

His heart pounded as he waited for your reply, each second stretching into an eternity. When your message finally appeared, it was simple but profound.

You: Thank you for trusting me enough to share that. You’re not alone in feeling that way. A lot of people feel lost, like they’re searching for something they can’t quite name. It’s part of being human. But you don’t have to figure it all out right now. 

Just take it one step at a time, one day at a time.

Luigi’s breath caught in his throat as he read your words. It wasn’t judgment or pity that he saw in them. It was understanding. Compassion. And something else—something that made his chest ache in a way he couldn’t quite explain.

Pep: I don’t know where to start

He confessed, his fingers shaking as he typed. 

I feel like I’m stuck in this… this loop. Like I’m just going through the motions, but I’m not really living. I don’t know how to break out of it.

Your response was prompt, as though you had anticipated him saying those words. 

You: Start by being honest with yourself. About what you want, what you need. It doesn’t have to be all at once. Just take small steps. And remember, you don’t have to do it alone. I’m here. As much as you’ll let me be.

Luigi's vision swam before him as he absorbed your message, a lump rising stubbornly in his throat. He scrubbed at his eyes, fighting back the tide of emotions that surged within him—gratitude coursing through his veins, relief washing over him like a gentle wave, and a flutter of fear that danced just beneath the surface. Yet, amid this tumult, there was something else—a warm, comforting sensation enveloping him, as if he were being wrapped in a soft, reassuring hug that eased the weight on his shoulders.

Pep: I don’t know why you’re so kind to me.

He typed, his fingers moving slowly now as if each word carried the weight of his heart. 

I don’t feel like I deserve it.

You: You don’t have to earn kindness, Luigi. You deserve it just because you’re you. And you’re worth it. Don’t ever doubt that.

He stared at the screen, his breath hitching. Those words—those simple, powerful words—struck something deep inside him, something he’d buried long ago—a tiny spark of hope, flickering in the darkness.

Pep: I don’t know what to say. I just… Thank you. For being here. For listening. For… for seeing me.

You: Always, Luigi. Always.

He closed his eyes, letting out a shaky breath. For the first time in what felt like forever, he felt like he could breathe. Like the weight on his chest had shifted, just a little. It wasn’t gone, but it was bearable. And for now, that was enough.

Pep: There’s one more thing. Something I’ve never told anyone. Not even myself, really.

He paused, his fingers trembling. This was it. The moment of truth. The moment he either let it all out or shut it away forever.

You: You can tell me anything, Luigi. I’m here.

He closed his eyes, gathering his courage. When he opened them, he started typing again, the words spilling out in a raw, unfiltered stream.

Pep: I think… I think I’ve been searching for someone. Not just anyone, but… you. I don’t know how to explain it, but talking to you, it feels like… like I’ve finally found what I’ve been looking for. I know it sounds crazy, but—

Your reply interrupted him, cutting off his words before he could finish.

You: It’s not crazy, Luigi. I feel it, too.

His breath caught in his throat, his heart pounding in his chest. He stared at the screen, his mind racing. Did you really mean it? Or was it just the late hour, the vulnerability of the moment, making you say things you might not normally say?

Pep: Do you really mean that?

As he typed, his fingers erratically tremored; he couldn’t keep up with the thoughts tumbling out of his head. 

Or is it just the insomnia talking?

You: I mean it, Luigi. I’ve felt it, too. This connection between us. It’s real. 

It’s always been real. 

Pep: I want it to be real.

You: Then let’s make it real. 

His pulse quickened. The compulsion hung in the air, heavy and loaded. He’d thought about it—more times than he could count. He’d imagined what it would be like to hear your voice, to see your face, to feel your presence beside him. But it felt like a dream, something just out of reach.

Pep: But there’s so much distance. And I… I don’t know if I’m ready for that. If I’m even capable of it. I know you’re real, and this is, but I want to feel it, too. 

The honesty in his words surprised him. He hadn’t meant to say so much, but something about the late hour, the quiet, you—it made it impossible to hold back.

You: I get it. I really do. But… what if we didn’t have to figure it all out right now? What if we just… let ourselves want it? Even if it’s just for tonight.

I mean… what if we stopped pretending like this isn’t something real? Like we’re just two strangers who happen to be online at the same time. Because we’re not. We’re more than that. 

And… I don’t want to hide it anymore.

Luigi gazed at the words, his chest constricting. He felt naked and vulnerable, yet also… relieved. It was as if someone had torn off a bandage he hadn’t known was there.

Pep: I don’t want to hide it, either. I do want this. I want you. Even if it’s just like this, for now. Even if it’s just words on a screen. It just feels so real to me.

You: Then let’s stop pretending. Let’s just… be. Together. Even if it’s just for tonight.

He hesitated for a moment, his heart pounding in his chest. He let out a slow breath, feeling the pressure ease slightly, now knowing that deep down, he understood what he wanted—he wanted you, and at long last, you were there, waiting for him. He was no longer alone. At this moment, going forward for however long the night would last, it would be just you and him—and only you and him. And it was going to be real. 

Then, slowly, he typed.

Pep: Okay. Let’s be together.

[shimmernspice]

Contraindicated

pairing: college dealer Vi x college student reader

Description: Vi knows better than to get involved with customers - especially the pretty ones who get her tongue-tied and nervous.

Warnings: 18+, drugs (weed)

The party was already in full swing by the time Vi arrived, her shoulders tense beneath her as she weaved through the crowd. Vi hated these things. She wouldn't have shown up if it weren't for Jinx and Ekko dragging her out of their apartment.

These things were too loud with too many people - but it was also good for business. Quick deals in dim hallways, maybe saying hi to familiar faces, and then she would leave.

That was the plan anyways.

You leaned against the wooden railing of the porch, enjoying the way the smoke from your blunt curled into the dark. The back door creaked open and shut. You didn't bother looking up from your spot - just another person needing a break from the party. But when the new person made herself comfortable against the railing you finally glanced over.

She was tall, broad-shouldered, and wearing a tight jacket that did nothing to hide her muscles underneath. She exhaled slowly and rolled her shoulders like she was trying to shake something off.

You studied her for a moment, your gaze lingering a little too long on her face. Her eyes met yours before you could look away and a blush spread across your cheeks. So embarrassing you thought to yourself. Holding out your blunt, "Want a hit?"

She snorted, shaking her head. "Nah I'm good. Appreciate it though."

You gave her a small grin, "Trying to quit or something?"

"More like I've got better shit at home." Shooting you an amused but cautious look, "I deal."

That caught your attention. You hummed, weighing the information before taking another hit. "Good to know."

She let out a small laugh, shaking her head before replying. "You say that like you're gonna actually remember." You grin.

"I've been looking for a new dealer anyway. My guy has been upcharging me since I said no to a date."

Vi hesitated and against her judgment, held out her hand to you. "Vi," she said, introducing herself. Vi hated selling to people who weren't introduced by her customers, the risk of getting caught made her nervous. Hell, she had only known you for a couple of minutes and she was willing to throw her caution to the wind.

But Vi always had a weakness for pretty girls. And staring at you in the dim glow of the porch light shut her brain down.

She reaches into her pocket, pulls her phone out and offers it to you to put your number in. What am I doing? Stepping closer, she presses it into your free hand.

You come forward, taking the phone from her. Her fingers are rough against yours. You try to convince yourself that the electricity you felt was because you took one too many hits and not because of how nervous the hot redhead is making you feel. You slip your hand away from hers and Vi almost chases it. Gods, what Vi would do to feel your hand it hers again.

"Don't make me regret that," she murmured, low and serious.

Something in her tone sent a thrill down your spine. Not a warning exactly. But maybe a challange.

You smirked, typing your number into the phone. You hand her back the phone, leaning in closer than you already were. "No promises."

Before anything else could happen, Jinx burst through the door. A knowing and mischievous smile graces her face. "Don't let me ruin the moment guys." Her voice cuts the obviously thick tension between the two of you.

You offer Vi a smile before you disappear back into the house, the door clicking shut behind you.

Vi sighed, staring down at the phone that was in her grip.

The screen lit up. New Contact: Trouble❤️

Her jaw clenched. A chuckle escaped her lips as she turned off the phone and put it back in her pocket.

Yeah. She was in for it.

[munsonsmixtapes]

I Have You Strung, Strung in My Web

Billy Hargrove x Hopper!reader

You and Billy try to make it clear that you want more, but you keep missing each other.

part one

The bed shakes and squeaks as Billy pounds into this girl-what what her name? Jamie? Jackie? Definitely something with a J, but that doesn’t matter. Her usually just calls her “bitch” and she responds to that quite well.

She’s responding exactly the way he wants her too, so close to coming, but he doesn’t care. He actually couldn’t give less of a fuck. He’s only going this to get over you. He knows the only way to get over someone is to get under-well in this case, on top of-someone else.

But it’s not working. In fact, all he can think about is you and the way you made him feel so good. He wants that again. He wants it so bad but he’s not going to ask you not matter how much he wants to.

You have to initiate it because if Billy does, he’s gonna look like a goddamn pussy. He wouldn’t even know how to initiate it. He’s always the one being approached, and he certainly doesn’t fuck the same girl twice. That’s not who he is.

Then what makes you so different? Why are you the one he wants to break all his rules for? He doesn’t know but he wishes he did, wishes he could make sense of his feelings. Because being around you makes him feel like he can be himself. He doesn’t have to put on that persona he does with everyone else.

He zones back in as the girl finishes and he’s never been so eager to pull out, so he does. He didn’t even come and for the first time, he doesn’t care. He just wants her out so he can be left alone.

Thankfully, she knows her place and is quick to leave without even so much as a goodbye. Billy just stands there, facing his closet, now feeling like he needs a shower. He really needs to wash off this girl’s perfume along with the entire experience because now he feels dirty.

He heads to the bathroom and as soon as the faucet is turned on, he immediately feels a lot better. He stands there as the steam fogs up the mirror and as he wipes it away and looks at his reflection, he can’t help but think that he doesn’t recognize himself. Is that a smile he sees? Who hell is that staring back at him? He has no idea but he kind of likes it.

He gets into the shower and feels himself relax. In here, no one can bother him. Not his dad, not Susan or Max, and especially not you. Then why are there flashes of the two of you showering together in his mind?

He wants to have you pinned against the wall as he fucks you senseless, showing you who’s really in control. He let you take over that one time, but if he were to fuck you again, he’d be the one in charge. That’s how he operates, how he likes it. How he needs it. He has say about anything else in his life so sex is what he relies on in order to have some control.

After he’s out of the shower, he’s thinking about calling you. You told him not to be a stranger, but he’s nervous to actually give you a call. He also doesn’t want to go ask Max for your number because he’s sure that she’ll tease him about it.

He wonders if you’ll be home if he just shows up. Or maybe Chief Hopper will be there and grill him about his intentions with you. Yeah, he doesn’t want that. He knows your dad doesn’t approve of him, that much is clear. He’s been arrested for so many fights that he’s seen Jim Hopper more than his own father.

What would Jim say if he knew what Billy and his daughter had gotten up to the other night? He definitely wouldn’t make it out of the cabin alive if he ever found out. Because you’re Jim’s little girl and he’ll always think of you as such no matter how old you get.

He decides against contacting you altogether as he gets dressed. He wouldn’t know what to do or say and figures that you’ll reach out eventually. At least, he really hopes so.

“So you really went and did it?” Steve sighs as he looks at you from where he’s sitting on his couch. He’s there for your Friday night movie you do every week and the two of you are just waiting for the others to show up.

“Yep,” you nod, knowing that he has no interest in hearing anything about it and you respect that.

“Gross,” he grimaces. “Did you…enjoy it?” He honestly just wants to make sure you’re safe and that’s it. He feels like your older brother sometimes even though you’re the same age. He just wants to protect you.

“I did, actually,” you nod, trying really hard to keep the smile off your face. “ And he did too. I sense that he’ll be calling me any minute now.” You glance at the watch on your wrist. Billy hasn’t called you all weekend which doesn’t surprise you. Calling isn’t really his thing and you don’t care anyway. You guess it was only meant to be a one time thing.

“Yeah, good luck with that pipe dream,” Steve scoffs.

“It could happen.” You’ve now crossed your arms over your chest and Steve can’t help but laugh at your optimism.

“Need I remind you that we’re talking about Billy Hargrove. He’s not me.”

“And thank god for that,” You reply as a knock sounds at the door. You head over and open it to see Robin on the other side. You usher her inside and take the six pack of beer she’s carrying as she follows you inside.

Steve takes the beer from you and takes them to the kitchen, leaving you alone with Robin. The two of you take a seat on the couch as you wait for the others to arrive. Robin is someone you feel like you can tell absolutely anything to. There are things you can discuss with her that you just can’t talk about with Steve.

You want to tell her the truth about Billy. That you’re convinced he’s the best you’ve ever had and you’re desperately waiting for him to call you. But you don’t. You can’t. You know how much she dislikes Billy and you supposed she has a right to because it’s for the same reasons why you hated him.

But now that you’ve slept with him, you’ve seen a different side of him. It was softer and gentler and you wonder why he’s not like that all the time. You’re sure that he could get more women into bed if he behaved just a little bit more like Steve. But the day that happens is the day Hell freezes over.

“So what’s new with you?” She asks, scooting closer just in case there’s something you want to say that you don’t want Steve to hear.

“Just been reading,” you reply, which is partially true. You have been reading a lot. So much so that you’ve already finished all the books you own and had to buy a couple more to hold you the last couple weeks of summer.

She eyes you suspiciously and you know that she can tell that there’s something you’re not telling her. She always can. But your lips stay zipped. She’s not getting anything out of you. And you can’t imagine how she would react when you told her that you slept with Billy Hargrove.

“What have you been up to?” You ask, giving her a little nudge. “How has it been with Vicky?”

“Really good,” she replies and you can see a blush creeping up on her cheeks.

“Good,” you nod. “I’m really happy for you, Rob.”

“And I’m happy for you,” she nudges you back. “With whatever you’ve got going on.” She winks then stands from the couch. “I’m gonna go get a drink.”

“Robin-“ you’re about to chase after her, but there’s another knock at the door before you can. Nancy, Jonathan, Argyle, and Eddie are on the other side, all holding what you asked them to bring except for Eddie who always conveniently forgets every time. You’re not even sure why you even ask anymore.

You usher them all inside and once all of the snacks are on the coffee table, they all take their favorite spots in Steve’s living room. You’re on the couch next to Steve and he starts up the movie which just so happens to be a horror movie that he’s actually terrified to watch.

As you look around at your friends, you hate that you’re wishing that Billy would call, even worse, that you want him right next to you as you cuddle into his chest. You want to cuddle into his chest at the particularly scary parts as he comforts you, telling you that he;s going to be okay as he rubs your back sympathetically. What is wrong with you? Why are you even thinking about him in that way? You slept with him once and automatically think he’d want to be your boyfriend? This is Billy Hargove and Billy most certainly doesn’t have girlfriends.

-

Billy keeps to himself the rest of the day. He doesn’t even go to work because he’s afraid of running into you. He doesn’t want to do something he’ll regret like telling you that he likes you or something. He just holes up in his room and thinks about nothing but you, wondering what you’re up to, if you’re thinking about him like he is about you.

You’ve fucked with his head, used some sort of sorcery on him because he’s never felt this way about anyone before. He wants to see you so badly, even just a glimpse will help. So before he can stop himself, he’s throwing on his shoes and hurrying out the door so fast that Susan isn’t even able to ask him where he’s going. To be honest, he doesn’t even know.

But when he pulls up to your house, he realizes just how crazy he is. Why is he showing up unannounced? He could have at least had the decency to call first. But that’s not him. It’s just like Billy to randomly show up without even so much as a phone call. He doesn’t know why, but he just feels like you deserve better.

He nervously knocks on the door and is taken aback when Jim Hopper answers the door. He looks like he really doesn’t want to be bothered and Billy is so close to just making a run for it. Jim is standing there with his arms crossed over his chest, surely wondering what the hell Billy Hargrove is doing at his house.

“Hargrove,” Jim greets and Billy nods, putting on his most charming smile even though he knows it won’t work here.

“Jim, hi.”

“That’s Chief Hopper to you,” he crosses his arms over his chest. “Now what do you want?” Billy really is considering leaving because he actually doesn’t know what he’s doing. But then he sees a tiny glimpse of his sister and for once, he’s actually grateful for her existence.

“I’m actually here to pick up my sister. Dinner is soon and Susan wanted to make sure that she was home for it.” He’s smiling even weirder now, so proud of himself coming up with that on the fly.

“Max,” Hopper calls out to the girl and she’s quick to head over to him, her eyes widening at seeing her brother at the Hopper residence twice in one week. “Your brother is here to pick you up.” He says the words like he doesn’t believe Billy and he doesn’t. But he’s going to let him off the hook. This time, at least.

Max heads out the door and as soon as it’s closed, leaving her alone on the porch with her brother. She glares at him, one of the few people who can see through Billy’s bullshit. He’s up to something and she knows exactly what it is. It’s no secret that there’s something going on between the two of you and she’s going to do everything in her power to get the two of you together. Why you would willingly want to spend time with Billy, though, she has no idea.

But if she’s going to help him, he’s going to do something for her. That’s the deal, the only way any of this is going to work. It’s going to take a lot of work to make Billy boyfriend material, a chore in itself, for sure. She wonders how much she can get from him if he offers to help. Because at this rate, he’s going to need all the help he can get.

“What the hell was that?” She finally asks as she follows him down the steps. He’s walking so fast that she can barely keep up.

“Nothing,” he replies as he throws the driver’s side door open, Max heading over to the passenger seat.

“Nothing, right,” she winks as she gets into the car and for once, Billy actually makes sure that she’s fully in the car before he speeds down the road.

-

You and Steve finish cleaning up his very messy living room after the movie. You’re the only ones left. Steve’s going on and on about how unrealistic the movie was. But you’re not listening. You’re wondering why Billy hasn’t called and you don’t know why you care. Clearly it was only meant to be a one-time thing and you were just reading too much into it.

You can get his pretty moans out of your head. Images of his head leaning backwards, those sounds falling from his lips flash across your mind. You need to just get over him. Life’s too short to be anxious about getting a call from a boy who wouldn’t have even given you the time of day of sex hadn’t been on the table. Isn’t that the only reason why he agreed to meet you?

After everything is cleaned up, you say goodbye to Steve and make your way home. Only, you’re not turning onto the right street. You turn left when you’re supposed to go right and now you’ve ended up on the road that you’ve driven down so many times. You recognize every house since you bring El here almost every day before you go to the pool.

You honestly don’t know what you’re doing. You’re not thinking straight and are clearly blinded by your anger. And why wouldn’t you be? You’re so mad at Billy and you feel like he deserves to know how you feel.

You stop in front of the house you could draw from memory then quickly get out of your car. You’re stomping up the driveway and towards the front door, knocking furiously before waiting for someone to answer it.

Just your luck, it’s Max who’s on the other side. She gives you a suspicious look but then it quickly turns almost into pity. You can do so much better than her brother and she has no idea why you’re settling.

“He’s not here,” she tells you and actually feels bad when your face falls. “You just missed him, actually. But don’t worry, I’ll tell him to give you a call.”

“Thanks Max,” you smile lamely and she mimics it before closing the door.

You make the drive home and lock yourself in your room for the rest of the night, trying your best to not stare at your phone that sits on your desk. You’re silently begging it to ring, but when it reaches midnight and there’s no call, you eventually just decide to forget about the whole thing and go to bed. From now on, in your mind, Billy Hargrove doesn’t even exist.

[utilitycaster]

The identity erasure in fandom is so exhausting.

I feel like someone could write a thesis specifically about Zac Oyama’s characters being pushed into queer/ nd stories by fandom without any regard to the actual textual stories of racism, model minorities, and othering that often arise from Zac’s work.

Like I can find hundreds of Gorgug/ Zelda/ Ragh fics and fics about Gorgug being autistic and only a handful that engage with Gorgug’s race. And actually, you’re just as likely to see a fic about fantasy racism towards Riz, which. Is not the story being told.

Truly wild.

You know, this is really fascinating to me both because I tend to only see the most ridiculous discourse coming from D20 and I don't read fic, but also despite neurodivergence being not uncommon among peole in fandom, as I said, people acted like Travis Willingham was too stupid to play a druid as recently as late 2021 (even after he'd played a hexadin). It's gotten much better and more AP actors have openly talked about having ADHD (Travis McElroy, Aabria Iyengar, Siobhan Thompson, Taliesin Jaffe, Ashley Johnson) which I think forced people to consider what ADHD looks like but now it's kind of become a new "oh this character is LIKE ME" thing where basically anything can be used as evidence, which is fine for headcanons but becomes a problem when you ignore the identities you don't personally have.

But yeah, Zac in particular gets treated terribly - I haven't seen people be as awful to Lou despite him also being a man of color (though I have seen people be weird about him not necessarily choosing to play fat characters and it's like idk man why do you feel he's obligated to play characters that represent you, especially since he does clearly choose to consistently play black characters?) but a lot of people ignore that yeah, Zac has consistently played Japanese characters whenever they've been in a real-world-inspired setting, and that Gorgug is a half-orc living with gnomish parents who is curious about his parentage and who ends up pursuing artificing like his adoptive parents and feels like a very meaningful exploration of being multiracial. I do, for what it's worth, think there is textual exploration of anti-goblin racism in the first season that isn't really followed up on...but it's kind of telling that also, Gorgug isn't canonically queer and Riz is, and Riz is played by a white actor.

I would like to see someone, actually, do an academic exploration of everything talked about here because it's like:

Is this character, in-world, textually an oppressed identity (Fjord, Molly)

Is this character portrayed, in-world, as being of an identity that is oppressed in our world but is not in their world (eg, Beau being a nonwhite human lesbian in a world that doesn't really have color-based racism, usually favors humans, and doesn't have homophobia)

Is the character portrayed by an actor with an oppressed identity (Zac is nonwhite, Ally is trans, etc)

Is this actor a person with an identity shared by their character (ie, Lou and Aabria usually play black characters but those characters do not necessarily experience racism in their world - Fabian doesn't but Kingston would as does Eursolon; Deanna and Suvi don't - if I'm wrong bc I'm behind on WBN sorry)

If a character has multiple identities, which one are people connecting to and which are they ignoring?

If a character is, for example, played by an (afaik) straight cis nonwhite man and played as a straight cis nonwhite man (Ricky Matsui as played by Zac) do people headcanon them as being more like themselves to make them more relatable? Does this happen more with nonwhite characters given the heavily white AP audience?

If a character's race in a fantasy world is metaphorical, do they care about it? when and how?

anyway. much to think about.

[marianasbored]

Jun-ho, Dae-ho, thanos (separate, like 3 mini stories, if you get it??? Otherwise do how you like it) fucking reader so good she gets problems with her asthma. Not like she needs medical attention but a five minute break to get/take her medicine and then she's ready to go again!!

TYYY FOR SENDING ME A REQUEST AAAAA

THIS CONCEPT IS SO FUNNY TO ME OFC ILL DO IT 😛😛 I HAVE BREATHING PROBLEMS TOO GIRLY 🙏

SORRY THIS TOOK A HOT MINUTE TO WRITE AND I FEEL LIKE IT COULD BE BETTER BUT I JUST WANTED TO POST IT ALREADY 💔

Note: I’ve never written mini stories like this before and I barely read any Thanos or Jun-ho stuff so this might suck 💔 I’ve also never had an asthma attack before 😭

Jun-ho, Dae-ho, and Thanos x asthmatic reader !!

୭ 🎬 ✧ ˚. ᵎᵎ 🎱ྀིྀི

Jun-ho :

warning: I don’t think I’ve ever read anything Jun-ho related so sorry if this is out of character or something 😭

You woke up with Jun-ho in your bed, deciding to cuddle for a while before getting up. But one thing led to another…and now his cock is deep in your warm pussy >.< !!

I mean can you blame him? You sound so pretty when you’re sleepy, and the way the morning light fell on your face made you look like an angel.

You guys were still technically cuddling… just now with your panties pulled to the side…

“H-haah..Jun-ho..” you moan, trying to catch your breath as his cock bullied your insides

“You’re doing so good baby… so perfect all for me…” he moaned in your ear

You were being so loud, you couldn’t help it!! He was fucking you so good…your legs were literally shaking !!

“Jun-ho…!” You whined again, causing him to pick up the pace

Fuck, you really were breathing heavily now… I mean he was fucking you like it was the last time he’d be able to or something !!

He noticed pretty quickly there was something off, despite him being a little distracted by your pussy >.<

“You okay, pretty girl?” He asked softly, slowing down to help you catch your breath

“M-mhm..” you nodded, feeling dizzy “just…n-need…my…inhaler…” you panted

He reached behind him on the night stand and grabbed you your inhaler, handing it over to you gently and paying close attention to you

He gave you a moment to compose yourself before you smiled, chuckling softly, the sound making him relax

“Feeling better?” He asked, kissing your cheek with a little smirk

“Y-yeah..” you said “please..keep going now..” you whined

“That’s my girl” he said with a grin, starting to fuck you at the same pace again

Dae-ho:

Dae-ho had you in missionary, just so he could stare at your pretty face while he fucks you :3

“You look so perfect baby…” he moaned, delivering slow, deep thrusts.

All you could do was moan, watching as he moved his hands to squeeze and play with your tits. >.<

“Dae-Ho..” you whined as he fucked you faster, going impossibly deeper

“You feel so good baby..” he moaned “just so perfect..”

He kept squeezing your tits, the stimulation driving you crazy >.<

You close your eyes, tilting your head back due to the pleasure before he suddenly slows down “uh uh uh” he tsks at you

“look at me baby” he commanded softly, and you open your eyes once more

“Good girl” he smiled and kissed your neck before speeding up his thrusts, the sound of your moans increasing as you started to pant

“You sound so pretty..” he said softly, causing you to whimper

He kept speeding up, and the more he did, the worse your panting got

“Shit” you thought. You didn’t want him to stop, but you were starting to think that you needed your inhaler !!

“D-Dae-ho..” you whined, but the way you said it caused him to slow down a little in concern

“What is it baby?” He asked, tucking your hair behind your ear and kissing your forehead

“Need my . . .inhaler. . .” You panted

He wasted no time in pulling out and grabbing your inhaler, his instincts kicking in as he handed it to you, his eyebrows knitted together in concern.

“You okay baby?” He asked, handing you a cup of water as you nodded and drank it

He sat up and placed you on his lap. “You sure?” He asked

You put the water back on the nightstand “yeah I’m sure..”

He kissed you on the cheek and then started kissing your neck “wanna keep going?” He asked in between kisses

“Y-yes please..” you whined from the sensitivity of your neck, watching him continue to kiss you gently.

He then lifted you up and slowly pushed his cock into you, grabbing your hips and making his pretty girl ride him >.<

Thanos:

Warnings: Thanos calls reader “slut”, spanking, hair pulling, drug use, unprotected sex, Thanos is a little mean but nothing crazy

Thanos was fucking you from behind, your ass arched high in the air for him to see. His hands were gripping your hips tight enough to leave bruises and the sound of your moans filled the room.

You had both taken one of his pills just to hang out and watch a movie, but you know nothings ever “just a hangout” with Thanos.

“F-fuck..!” You moan as he picks up the pace, letting out a loud whimper as he lifts up a hand to slap your ass.

“Yeah you like that?” You could hear his grin “fucking slut..” he groans, watching how his cock slides in and out of you at a rough pace

He was fucking you so good, the drugs making it feel even better, and making you feel more sensitive than usual >.<

“Fuck..she’s drooling all over me..” he said with a low moan, referring to how your pussy was leaking on his cock.

He moved one of his hands from your hips to your hair, tugging at it just to hear you whine and get louder

“My perfect slut..” he moans “no one else gets to fuck you like I do..” he tugged on your hair a little harder as you murmur a little “mhm..”

“Fucking use your words” he grunts, spanking you again “Y-Yes sir..!” You managed to choke out “Good slut” he smirks, moving his hand to toy with your clit.

Fuck, he was making you see stars, making you pant, making you dizzy, making you hyperventilate-. . .-wait a minute! Hyperventilate? All of the sudden you realize you don’t remember how to breathe properly!! And the dizziness is getting worse !!

You start waving your arm at him weakly, trying to touch his hand to get him to stop, all while trying to steady your breathing. “Baby I can’t..-“

You try to speak, making him slow down a bit “what is it..?” He asks before he sees you point at your inhaler on your night stand “Ohh” he finally realizes and pulls out, causing you to whine.

He repositioned you so you were sitting up in bed and grabs your inhaler, watching you use it and start to relax

He chuckles at the realization of what happened, “was I fucking you that good, baby?” He grinned, watching you blush from embarrassment and nod.

He reached for a glass of water, handing it to you and watching you drink it.

You looked so pretty, panting, covered in a sheer layer of sweat, messy hair and tired eyes. You really were perfect to him

“Are you feeling better now?” He asked after a moment

“Yeah I think so..” you say, putting the water and inhaler on the night stand

“Good” he said, suddenly throwing your legs over his shoulders and fucking you at the same pace he was before >.<

୭ 🎬 ✧ ˚. ᵎᵎ 🎱ྀིྀི

Additional note: guys I kinda hate my writing in this srry pls don’t judge I’m still learning 💔

[alaia777]

i so squealed when i saw ur recent post could i request can we trade? yours is way better! with rin tysmmm i love ur work

oh my goddddd thank you so so so much, i hope you like it :’) i also love ur work !!!!!

if you knew he was going to frown and grumble the entire walk to the café, you would’ve just left him at home. but no—he couldn’t listen. you warned him. you threatened him. if he so much as touched a football on his day off, you were going to invite his brother over to your guys’ place. and yet, here he was, dragging his feet like a kid forced to run errands, acting like this was some huge punishment.

the least he could do was suck it up and come with you, especially after you sat through 90 minutes of a match between two teams you couldn’t even be bothered to remember.

“if you want to spend quality time together, then you should sit down and do something i enjoy for once.” that’s what he said at the time. and thinking back on it now, you try not to cringe. he wasn’t just watching the game—he was in it, barking orders at the screen like a wannabe captain. or coach. either way, he gave you the ick that day.

“my friend told me this place is amazing. they make the best crepes in the world,” you say, glancing at him.

he stops for a second, frowning even harder—if that was even possible.

“crepes? you made me skip lunch because you were taking me out to eat, and we’re getting crepes?”

you ignored him and picked up the pace as soon as the café came into view. luckily, it wasn’t too crowded—you wanted to sit down and actually enjoy the atmosphere. you didn’t bother waiting for him, heading straight to the counter to order. and, okay, maybe you went a little overboard with the toppings. whipped cream, chocolate, and peanut butter sounded like a great combo in theory. but now, staring at your plate, you weren’t so sure. especially when you saw his. simple, golden, and so much more appetizing than the sugary mess in front of you.

you cut into yours and take a bite—or at least, you try to. the way all the toppings mix together on your fork makes your stomach turn. rin doesn’t even have to look up to know you’re staring at his. you’re not exactly subtle, practically slouching over the table to get your plates closer together. he can already hear you—

“can we trade? yours is way better!” you blurt out, already reaching with your fork.

but he’s faster, dragging his plate away before you can even think about stealing a bite.

“no. yours looks disgusting. what were you even thinking when you ordered that?”

you huff, glaring at him. “i was hungry, okay? not all of us spend hours strategizing our meals like we’re in a champions league final.”

you sigh and settle back into your chair, feeling a little guilty. how selfish of you to want to take his plate after you starved him of his lunch just because you couldn’t think straight in front of so many amazing toppings and flavors. you glance up briefly to see him getting out of his chair, probably to use the restroom, and you don’t bother looking away from your plate. maybe if you just open it up and eat it from the inside… or maybe you could fold it differently? you squint at it, trying to find a way to make this work.

you don’t even know how much time has passed since you started trying to figure out how to eat your damn crepes. all you know is that you’re completely lost in your thoughts when suddenly, your plate is replaced with another one. one with a single topping on it—your favorite one! you look up, and rin is already sitting back down, casually eating his own crepes.

“rinnnn,” you say in a whiny, happy voice, leaning toward him with a wide grin, “you actually love me so much, like, you can’t live without me, right? and you want to marry me right now, right?”

rin doesn’t even look up from his food, his tone deadpan as he answers.

“yeah, sure. after you finish that thing you call a crepe.”

[moody-alcoholic]

These Violent Delights

Chapter 18 - Bonus

Summary: poly 141 x fem!reader, a/b/o AU. WC: 607

CW: hints at past abuse/sa.

TVD masterlist - next bonus

“She asked about having sex with us.” Kyle says, Simon raises an eyebrow then looks over at John. There’s silence round the table for a few seconds.

“A few days ago.” Johnny adds.

“With you?” John asks shifting in his chair. Simon and Kyle look at each other.

“No with the ghost who lives in the attic.” Johnny scoffs.

“I think she wants to talk to you about it. She thinks she needs your permission.” Kyle says. John presses his lips together.

“Should I talk to her?”

“No!” They all say at the same time, he raises an eyebrow.

“I mean, she’s making big improvements. Today at the loch that was a big step.” Kyle says. “She might need time.”

“Why tell me then?” John asks.

“So when she asks you you don’t react the way you just did.” Johnny says. John frowns looking over at Simon who shrugs.

“Do you want to have sex with her?” John asks his hand gripping tighter round his mug. Kyle and Johnny look at each other.

“Maybe it will be good for her?” Kyle asks shrugging. “Means she’s opening up again.”

John sighs looking back down at his mug, it’s almost like he wants to say no. Keep you all to himself, wait until you want to come back to him. That’s what he wants the most, for you to just come back to him. Talk to him again look at him without hostility in your eyes.

They’re right though, you’ve made such good progress, maybe this is what you need. It feels wrong though, he’s not sure why, it makes the hairs stand up on the back of his neck. Last night when he came to your door he wanted nothing more then to just grab hold of you, pull you into bed and hold you in his arms.

“She doesn’t need my permission.” John says looking back up and Johnny and Kyle.

“Yeah but she wants it.” Johnny says.

“What did she say?” John asks frowning, there’s something they’re leaving out.

“She said it was normal for packs, to all be together.” Kyle says taking a sip of his tea before looking over at Johnny.

“We know how professor Hale treated her. I think this is her taking back control.” Johnny says.

“It was her idea to go to the loch, her idea to let Piper go. I think Johnny’s right, she’s the one making all the decisions not Hale or Piper, not even us.” Simon says.

“Maybe this is her way of healing. You’re her alpha, it’s probably the most intimidating thing in the world to talk to you right now.” Johnny says. John knows he’s just trying to make him feel better about the whole thing.

“We also don’t want you to think we’re stepping on your toes. She’s your omega-”

“Our. Our omega. We’re a pack.”

“Sure but-”

“No buts.” John lets out a sigh letting go of his mug and looking over at Simon. “Whatever she needs. That’s what she gets.” Kyle smiles at him taking another sip of his tea.

“Well, I’m off to bed.” Johnny says stretching then getting up and patting Kyle on the shoulder. “You coming LT? I need someone to keep me warm in this place.” Simon tuts but gets up anyway following him out the room. John smiles, and looks back up at Kyle who’s sipping his tea.

“She does miss you.” Kyle says sympathetically.

John nods. “I know. I miss her too.”

Chapter 18 - next bonus

Dividers by @plum98

[tryingahandinholdingapen]

let's combine some tropes

- red eyes are blessed (and therefore Tobirama has been hiding his face (and possibly generally his appearance via seal) bc they're not sure what Uchiha do with red-eyed people)

- Tobirama is a v strong sensor

- He finds Uchiha chakra in general and Madara's chakra in particular to be v pleasant

- He sometimes hides at the edge of Uchiha land borders when he's having a bad day, or just when he feels like it, in order to better immerse himself in chakra he finds comforting

- (and also Butsuma Sucks. he's abusive to his kids, esp Tobirama bc woe red eyes akin to sharingan and Butsuma's never been the most rational about his hatred. on a related note he's a passable clan head but he'd be a lot better if he didn't let said hatred guide his actions more than his reason)

...I don't think this post will get too long but I say that every time and then it does so maybe I should just preemptively stick a read more here??

basically au in which, from a p young age, Tobirama sneaks off to chakra bathe when he's sad or stressed. the Uchiha clan haven't actually found any red-eyed people in a while so the Senju aren't sure what they do with them but rumours still abound and all the rumours Tobirama have heard have generally been... well they've been bad. very bad. but they've also all had a common theme of 'the red-eyed person is not immediately killed on the spot', which is better than Tobirama could hope for from Uchiha as the Senju surety heir. so anytime he's hiding/skulking around the edges of Uchiha land, he makes sure that, unlike usual, his true appearance+eyes are on display as well as ensuring he doesn't have the Senju mon on him anywhere

he absolutely does not want to get caught by the Uchiha but also it's only sensible to take precautions so that if the worst case scenario happens and he IS caught trespassing, he should at least have a bit more time to try and escape, bare minimum, right?

so that's Tobirama's side of things

the Uchiha side of things is more like

okay they haven't found a Blessed in some time now and it's not like there's a strict manual what you should do if you find one. it's more like "these people are important, don't hurt them if at all possible, help and protect them if at all possible, bringing them into the clan and teaching them abt all things Uchiha including our religion would be a very good thing". so there's like some guidelines but it's fairly vague

this means the patrol predominantly made up of fairly new shinobi has absolutely no idea what to do when a while after sun-down they come across a Blessed child fast asleep, but slowly blinking awake, in the branches of a tree near the edge of their lands. like. hello?? small child?? why are you here how are you here do you want some soup

they're only standing around in confused and slightly awed shock for like, 3 minutes MAX but unfortunately that's long enough for the child to wake up properly, take one look at the patrol and then fucking bolt off Uchiha lands

cue surprised and self-recriminating cursing from the Uchiha shinobi. they can't just abandon their patrol route and they're somewhat wary of a potential trap for (relatively) newbie shinobi, so they don't all go after the child. but they do send their fastest after the kid because cmon that's a tiny Blessed!!

no luck, they return empty handed

apparently the Blessed child is unreasonably fast and tricky

damn

what now?

baby Tobirama returns home absolutely furious with himself. he can't believe he fell asleep!!! of all things! yeah he was exhausted and yeah he was snuggled up in warm comforting chakra but to fall asleep in enemy territory! he's so mad at himself. it was stupid and it was reckless and it was incredibly selfish of him to risk such a thing when his family, his clan, need him and- (continues telling himself off for like, 3 hours, until his brothers eventually manage to distract him from his horrible mood)

he doesn't return to Uchiha lands for ages after that. but he does, eventually, return

he isn't spotted every time he sneaks onto Uchiha lands, far from it, maybe one time in twenty or less, but it definitely happens enough times that they must know there's a little red-eyed child who keeps skulking around their territory and then bolting whenever he's spotted. oops. regardless he's very stressed and very sad because one of his little brothers is now gone (I kind of want this to be an au where his brother lives but is now stuck in an arranged marriage/learning to be a diplomat in the capital or smth, but regardless of how Kawamara is gone now and baby Tobirama is very sad abt it) and despite how many times they've spotted him, none of the Uchiha have actually managed to catch him yet, so he deems it worth the risk. (he maybe is not thinking incredibly rationally rn and just willfully disregarding anything against what he wants to do. give him a break his life sucks rn let him have this one thing)

meanwhile the Uchiha are like. where is this tiny Blessed child coming from/going to and why does he keep running away from us? like okay we know there's some horrendous rumours abt what we do with Blessed and we can't correct those rumours bc doing so risks others using Blessed against us but like....if that was the reason this kid was running from us then surely either he'd be trying to hide his features or he'd stop sneaking onto our land?

.....maybe he's not worried abt us noticing there's a Blessed child on our lands. he doesn't seem TOO bothered by us getting glimpses of him in the relative distance after all. so...he doesn't want us to see him close up? why?

..maybe he's like, really obviously from a neutral/enemy clan or something when you get a better look at him? hmmm

maybe he'll let us talk to him/catch him eventually if we keep trying. I mean it doesn't seem like he plans to stop sneaking onto our lands and WE'RE certainly not going to stop so surely its only a matter of time before he realises that if we wanted to actually hurt him we absolutely could have been throwing jutsu or weapons at him from this distance or senbons laced with sedatives or-

(should we do that instead actually? hit the kid with a sedative, deal with the rest later?

no, then we might permanently fuck over any chance of him ever trusting us and that would make helping/protecting/integrating him SO much harder

urgh. you're right I guess. okay)

anyway. maybe the little Blessed kid will relax eventually

(Tobirama does not relax eventually)

they've fallen into a frustrating stalemate in which Tobirama will fairly frequently lurk around Uchiha lands and occasionally an Uchiha will spot him and halfheartedly attempt to catch him, only to fail because Tobirama is unreasonably fast (....part of me wants to start spouting my mokuton secondary agenda again here to explain his Speed) and also they're trying not to hurt him in any way which makes it a lot harder

Tobirama has technically relaxed somewhat in that he's now significantly less worried about the prospect of the Uchiha hurting or catching him (as long as he's obviously red-eyed and absent any Senju mon, at least, all bets are off on missions/battlefields) and has as a result started to a) gradually creep further into Uchiha lands each time bc hey if the Uchiha aren't too much of a threat then it's better to be within the patrols who would stop any bandits or rogue shinobi right? and b) has started wandering off to Uchiha lands whenever he feels like it instead of just when he's near his breaking point. like now whenever he has a free moment he's like 'hmmmm do I want to spend time fucking about with research or with Touka/brothers or do I want to go chakra bathe' and they're all weighed up near equally in his mind

(assuming that said free moment would also give him the time/cover/distraction needed for him to reach Uchiha lands and back without Butsuma noticing, ofc. he isn't stupid nor does he have a death wish. That Man assuming he'd gone traitor would be.............bad.)

so I mean the Uchiha were sort of right in assuming he'd relax once he realised they weren't incredibly intent on hurting/catching him. they were just wrong in hoping he'd relax ENOUGH to let them catch/talk to him

they're very disappointed. however they're also cautiously pleased that the Blessed child has not stopped coming back over and over again, and also that he is gradually coming further into their lands and two months ago when some (significantly less welcome) trespasser turned up and tried to attack the kid he even ran to an Uchiha patrol for help! Admittedly he didn't say anything, or stick around after, but hey he at least trusts them a tiny bit to go to them for help against an enemy, right? Progress! It might take a billion years at this rate but they WILL win over the Blessed kid eventually!

at this point it's been like, at least two years since Tobirama was first spotted. probably significantly more. the stalemate truly is getting a bit ridiculous but neither party is willing to break it for fear it would end badly (and probably specifically end badly for Tobirama/little Blessed child, realistically. given he's a small child and they're an entire clan whose land he is trespassing on, there's v few ways they could break the stalemate which wouldn't risk - at best - the kid simply never returning again or at worst the the kid/Tobirama dying or living but hating+distrusting the Uchiha forever or Tobirama getting kidnapped and suffering [unspecified bad fate bc Tobirama doesnt know which rumours may be accurate but he hates them all])

eventually, fucking years later (I'm imagining Tobirama somewhere between 11 and 16 but truly can't pin it down further it depends if/what plot I include later in this theoretical fic) the stalemate does get broken, but not exactly by choice

Tobirama was on a mission and fairly badly injured. not enough that he's at risk of dying, unless he does something truly incredibly stupid + fucks up his own condition further, but he's in a lot of pain, his adrenaline is sky high, and he generally had a shitty time on the mission. he completed it successfully- barely - but it sucked and he's pretty miserable at the moment. he knows what he SHOULD do is go home and report to the healing hall to be fixed up and then go recount the mission (and his many failures/perceived failures on said mission) to Butsuma but.

but.

he doesn't want to do that

to put it mildly

anyway, the Uchiha is significantly closer than his own clan due to the direction the mission led him in, and he's exhausted and hurt, and his disguise is compromised..

(if it's something physical like a mask/contacts/dyed hair/etc then he lost it on mission or it got washed out due to how So Many Things Happened. if it's something chakra based like a jutsu or seal then he's too low on chakra and too hurt/distracted to maintain it)

...so trying to get all the way past the Uchiha, in his Senju armour but clearly a red-eyed child, when he's too exhausted and injured to guarantee he could succeed in doing so, would be a really bad idea, right? right. like they'd probably see him at best and then they'd know there was a red-eyed Senju kid and far more realistically they'd successfully catch or kill him in this state

so obviously it makes more sense for him to discard everything that marks him as a Senju, whilst he's still conscious+has the chakra to seal it away surreptitiously, and then go nap on Uchiha lands until he's recovered enough to make it home safely

yeah, that's a good idea. he'll do that

(tbf this is a fairly decent tactic but he's also trying to convince himself because when the options are 'soak up the most wonderful chakra he's ever felt and have a nap safely on territory he knows he probably won't be hurt on' or 'go home and get horribly mistreated by Butsuma for doing so badly on a mission before he even gets a chance to rest' he knows which one he wants to pick)

so Tobirama discards his armour and most of his equipment (urgh why is the Senju mon on EVERYTHING he complains to himself) and seals it away, making sure said seal also isn't at all obvious. all the moving he has to do to get this done really sucks because ow. injuries. most of them aren't that bad, a lot of surface wounds, and none of them are fatal, but OW moving so much aggravates almost all of them

this more or less just leaves him in pants, an undershirt, shoes and a kunai pouch. it's....Not A Lot and the paranoia and vulnerability is prickling at him even once he's within Uchiha patrols on their lands and he keeps trying to assure himself he's safe there but it's not working. he's hurt and exhausted and he barely has any chakra left and now he's not even wearing his armour or most of his weapons and he doesn't USUALLY wear his armour on Uchiha lands but he's also usually wearing more and NOT INJURED and more heavily armed and-

to appease his panic so he can actually rest like he'd intended to, instead of just kind of hanging around or scaling some branches/outcropping, he instead finds a tree that has a small burrow at the roots, just big enough for him to fit and evidently not currently in use by whatever animal made it, and curls up in there. he's careful of course not to let any open wounds meet the dirt, that's just asking for infection - thankfully his pants are long and his undershirt has long sleeves, so he just has to curl his hands up in his sleeves and ensure his head is cushioned on the lightweight cloak that thankfully had no clan mon on it - but he feels a lot safer when he's hidden away in an enclosed space

he reaches out to the warm-spice-passion chakra signatures within the Uchiha compound, shifts a bit for the comfiest position he can find in his little hiding place, and finally feels able to relax for the first time since that horrible mission started

there. safe

he falls asleep

meanwhile a Uchiha patrol has found spots of blood and a lot of scuffed up footsteps along their border, plus one spot that's just, a mess of leaf litter and kicked up moss (Tobirama tripped over a tree root when trying to take his chest plate off, immediately felt irrationally angry about it, and kicked at the stupid root to get it back. he then felt stupid himself and pretended it didn't happen. the rest of the mess is bc he was p carelessly dumping his shit on the floor before sealing it away) and they're concerned about it

is this from a fight?? no signs of jutsu tho, or discarded weaponry....hm. at the very least, someone was injured and (given that as far as this patrol knows, all their clan members are accounted for or shouldn't have returned from their missions yet) probably also trespassing

better go investigate

so they do and they find....that's a Blessed. that's the same Blessed that keeps wandering onto their lands, and he's asleep in a fucking hole and bleeding everywhere. oh shit. also where the hell is his shirt?? that is not a proper over-shirt that is underclothing what-

ah fuck what do they do

ah fuck

they know they're supposed to help this Blessed but they also know that a) he's scared of them for some reason. possibly bc he may technically be an enemy to their clan? they have no proof but its a persistent theory over the years and b) he's definitely a shinobi there's no way he could have outran that trespasser without training nor ended up in some of the ridiculous places he's been (hello?? tiny Blessed?? why are you 30 feet up a tree) without the ability to tree-walk

so like. they want to just take him back to their healing halls or something, but if they try that they'll probably just scare the shit out of him and he'd likely hurt them - and more crucially - himself in trying to get away

so they probably shouldn't do that. but they also can't just leave him injured in a hole. he's a Blessed! they can't leave him like this!

so

what do they do??

they have a quiet argument/discussion and ultimately determine that some of them will stay guarding the injured Blessed and some(one) will run back to the compound to firstly explain what's happened + that someone else needs to take over their patrol route and secondly gather what medical supplies they can spare and bring those back here

when the assigned shinobi returns with the supplies they end up accidentally waking the Blessed, which unfortunately immediately confirms their worries because he freaks the fuck out. he seems to want to run but swiftly determines he couldn't get out of the fucking hole + past them without them letting him, and instead twists with a pained hiss, bringing his hands up to hide his face and build as much as possible

which is interesting. he doesn't go to hide his hair, nor specifically to hide the red eyes that mark him as Blessed, no he goes to hide other potential identifiers....which kind of suggests he is indeed from an enemy clan. hm. damn. doesn't make him any less a Blessed but oh boy that may complicate things later on

(hc for the purposes of this fic that as a kid/early teen Tobirama looked fairly generically (mainline) Senju, apart from his colouring, and it wasn't until mid teens when he got a massive growth spurt and his face started changing more that he began to look more like his (outclan) mother and taller+slimmer+narrower than the average Senju, with pointer facial features, and just generally look a lot less like Butsuma+less obviously Senju)

the Uchiha silently and unanimously agree that this would go better if he DIDN'T feel like the wounded cornered animal he currently is, so they get the fuck out of the way. they don't go too far away, still within view, but they make sure the Blessed has a clear run out of the hole and off/away, if he wants. they also ensure that the medical supplies are very visible within that cleared space

a minute or so later they're rewarded when the Blessed stops cowering, and shoots past them faster than they would have believed possible. he takes the medical supplies on his dash past though - victory! woo!

they have a little discussion whilst they wait for him to get whatever he feels is a safe distance away, and decide that yeah that behaviour definitely indicates he thinks some sort of familial resemblance or something is a) noticable and b) gives him reason to fear the Uchiha's discovery of such. so. probably from an enemy clan

but...he's Blessed, and he hasn't tried to hurt any of them or actually get far enough into their territory to spy, or anything like that at all as far as they've noticed, so...?

plausible deniability, they decide. plausible deniability is going to be the name of the game, here

they'll just pretend not to notice he's present/a potential threat and hopefully he'll pretend right back

(also, interestingly, when they send someone to try and follow after the Blessed from a distance, they find that he hasn't bolted away from Uchiha lands as he has every time previously he was spotted. as they expected him to do now, when he's probably feeling cornered and threatened as well as being injured. no, instead he's stayed well within the area the Uchiha patrol (if anything he's actually gone further within Uchiha territory which, what?) and has found another substandard hiding place in which he's using the offered medical supplies to clean and tend to what injuries he can, and then he actually goes to sleep right there. he leaves when he wakes up a few hours later, and they don't try to stop him - REALLY not the time - but. hm. interesting)

anyway that whole encounter pretty thoroughly breaks the stalemate

after that, the Uchiha clan (specifically their patrols) and Tobirama somehow develop a whole new dynamic which honestly is almost identical to the Uchiha attempting to gradually befriend and lure a feral cat into their home, meanwhile Tobirama gradually starts leaving metaphorical dead mice on their doorstep

it's...yeah, it's really weird, actually, but. it's working?? so??

[danikamariewrites]

Hey! Would you be willing to write a fic or head cannon on how Ruhn would react to being mated to someone who is the complete opposite of him? Like maybe she is introverted and enjoys reading on the weekends instead of partying or something? If not that's okay! Hope you have a great day!

Opposites Attract

Ruhn x reader

Notes: I am 100% the opposite of Ruhn and will always be the friend that picks staying home over going out. Books over bars am i right guys

Warnings: none

The two of you met by chance. You hadn’t been paying attention while walking to work and bumped into Ruhn

He caught you when you tripped over your feet and then you apologized a million times. The moment your eyes locked the bond was instant. “I thought it was a myth.” Ruhn whispered. From there you took things slow even though the two of you fell hard for each other

You liked hanging out at your place better than Ruhn’s

It’s not that you didn’t like the frat house, you were just more comfortable in your own space

You liked staying home anyway. Everything you need is there

Ruhn didn’t mind staying at your place. He would cook you dinner, cuddle and watch movies without interruption

As your relationship progressed Ruhn was happy he could feel your comfort and happiness down the bond

It wasn’t like people didn’t know about you. You hadn’t been on double dates with Hunt and Bryce. Been to dinner with his friends and all that

But there was a part of Ruhn that felt like he was disappointing you

“Are you sure you don’t want to go out tonight?” Ruhn asked while you cuddled on your couch. “Yeah,” your eyes never leaving the TV. “If you want to go out please, don’t let me stop you.” Tilting your head back you smile at your mate

Ruhn turned off the TV, sitting up to face you. “Y/n be honest with me. Do you not like being with me?” The sadness in his voice broke your heart. Cupping his cheeks you shake your head. “Not at all baby, no. Ruhn how could you think that?” Ruhn lets out a shaky breath. “You never want to go out. And we never go to my place, why?” You hug him tight. “It has never been because of you. I just get anxious in new spaces and I don’t like partying. I’d much rather be here with you.”

After that conversation Ruhn became more understanding with you liking your space

Ruhn is a tad bit clingy but you love it

He’s always torn between going out and staying with you. How could he possible leave his beautiful mate at home?!

While he goes out you like your alone time. You chat with your friends, read, or watch TV

The first time Ruhn came home from a boys night he stumbled into your house very, very drunk

It was kinda cute because he was so happy to see you

“My love! My mate, the light of my life, I missed you!” He flops on the bed next to you, staring at you with big eyes. “My friends aren’t as fun as you,” he whispered, making you giggle. Ruhn pulls you to his chest letting out a hum. “I feel much better now. My heart hurt without you.”

You started going more places with Ruhn, trying to get comfortable with the attention that came with being the crown prince’s mate

When you didn’t like a place Ruhn was very understanding about it

You weren’t a huge fan of bars or anything like that. It’s not that you didn’t see the appeal, it just isn’t for you

You eventually grew to being comfortable at Ruhn’s place, even staying the night

Staying for parties at the frat house was also something you grew to be comfortable with. Especially when Ruhn made it clear that his bedroom was your room too

He absolutely did not give 2 shits about how clean his room was until he met you

The first time you came over to spend the night at his place Ruhn was running around like a mad man to make it look like grown-ups lived here

Ruhn was def shoving all loose items in his closet (the only neat thing being his made bed) until Dec came to check on him

“Heyyy buddy, you good?” “NO! PLEASE help me, i have too much shit.”

Whenever you’re feeling tired or just done with the party you always sneak away to Ruhn’s room

He’s never far behind you

You get about 10 min of alone time before Ruhn comes in ready to cuddle

When he comes up drunk he’s adorable

“Bbaayyyybbyyyyyy, i missed you.” He flops on the bed, pulling his clothes off and snuggles into you before falling asleep

You def read while holding him

Drunk Ruhn can fall asleep with the lights on for sure

When he comes up not drunk he just dotes on you

If the music and crowd were too much he’s very gentle with you, rubbing your back and pressing kisses to your forehead while whispering sweet nothings

[writeriguess]

Heya! May i have a Mandalorian x fem!reader? She's like his mechanic or something but she's also very attached to Grogu and is very caring towards them both. Maybe they're out somewhere and are attacked and reader gets hurt protecting Grogu and Din realizes how much he cares for her?

author's note: Thank you so much for requesting <3

A Home Among the Stars

The hiss of pressurized air filled the workshop as you carefully adjusted the hydrospanner in your hand. Your fingers danced over the controls, tightening bolts along the Razor Crest’s engine panel. Despite the old ship’s wear and tear, it had a charm that only a mechanic could appreciate—or someone who spent hours trying to keep it in the sky.

And that someone was you.

“Din,” you called out, wiping your grease-covered hands on your pants. You didn’t care about appearances when it came to your work. “When’s the last time you actually replaced the heat shielding? This thing’s held together with spit and hope.”

Din Djarin, the Mandalorian clad in his beskar armor, leaned against the entryway, arms crossed. His helmet tilted slightly, and though you couldn’t see his face, you could almost feel his sheepishness.

“It works,” he said simply, voice smooth and modulated.

You rolled your eyes, brushing a strand of hair out of your face. “Yeah, well, it won’t for long if you keep running it into blaster fire and letting Jawas ‘fix’ it with spare parts.”

A soft coo interrupted your lecture, and you glanced to the side to find Grogu perched on a crate, watching you intently. His big eyes sparkled with curiosity as his tiny hands fiddled with a stray bolt you’d left lying around.

“And you,” you said, smiling warmly as you crouched in front of him. “That’s not a toy, little guy.”

Grogu tilted his head, holding the bolt up as if in protest.

“Don’t encourage him,” Din muttered, stepping closer.

Ignoring the bounty hunter, you gently took the bolt from Grogu’s hands, replacing it with a small, smooth rock you kept in your pocket. It was something you’d found on one of your countless scavenging trips—a perfect fit for tiny hands.

“There,” you said softly, brushing your thumb over Grogu’s cheek. “Much better.”

The child made a happy sound, clutching the rock tightly. You couldn’t help but smile at the sight, your chest warming with a tenderness you hadn’t felt in years.

“You spoil him,” Din said, though his tone lacked any real bite.

You straightened, shooting him a look. “And you don’t?”

Din shrugged. “He’s—”

“Special,” you finished for him. “I know. And he deserves to be treated that way.”

For a moment, the two of you stood in silence, the hum of the ship and Grogu’s contented babbling filling the air.

“You’re good with him,” Din said eventually, his voice quieter than usual.

Your heart skipped a beat at the unexpected compliment. “He’s easy to love,” you replied, glancing at Grogu. “Both of you are.”

The words slipped out before you could stop them, and you immediately busied yourself with your tools, pretending you hadn’t just bared your soul in the middle of an engine repair.

Din didn’t respond right away, and the weight of his gaze felt almost tangible. You wondered what thoughts were running through his mind behind that expressionless helmet.

“Thank you,” he said finally, his voice softer than you’d ever heard it.

You looked up, surprised. His stance had relaxed slightly, and though you couldn’t see his face, you felt the sincerity in his words.

“Anytime,” you said, giving him a small smile.

The planet was quiet, almost too quiet, as you followed Din through the narrow, winding paths of the market. It was the kind of place that seemed like it had more shadows than people, where eyes lingered too long and conversations hushed when strangers passed. Din walked ahead, his hand resting lightly on the blaster at his hip, while Grogu cooed softly from his floating pod beside you.

“Stick close,” Din said, his voice low but firm. He didn’t turn to look at you, but you could tell from the slight tilt of his helmet that he was checking on you regardless.

“I always do,” you replied, scanning the area. The market stalls were packed with all sorts of strange goods: glowing crystals, exotic fruits, scraps of tech you couldn’t identify. Despite the eerie atmosphere, you couldn’t help but feel a flicker of curiosity.

Grogu made a delighted sound as you passed a stall selling shiny trinkets, his little hands reaching out toward the wares.

“No,” Din said immediately, his tone that of a long-suffering parent.

“Oh, come on,” you said, smiling as you reached into your pocket. “It’s just a little shiny thing. Let him have it.”

Din sighed, but he didn’t stop you as you handed over a few credits to the vendor and picked up a small metal orb. You placed it in Grogu’s hands, and his wide eyes sparkled with joy as he turned it over, inspecting it like it was the most fascinating thing he’d ever seen.

“You’re going to spoil him rotten,” Din muttered.

“That’s the goal,” you shot back, grinning.

The Mandalorian shook his head, but you could see the faintest tilt of his helmet that suggested amusement.

The moment of levity didn’t last long. A sharp noise—a blaster bolt cutting through the air—shattered the peace of the market. Din moved before you even processed what was happening, his blaster drawn and his body positioned protectively in front of you and Grogu.

“Get to cover,” he barked, his voice tense.

You didn’t argue. Scooping Grogu’s pod closer to you, you ducked behind a stack of crates, your heart pounding in your chest.

The attackers came into view a moment later—three figures clad in mismatched armor, their weapons raised. You didn’t recognize them, but their intent was clear.

“Hand over the kid,” one of them growled, his voice distorted by a crude helmet.

“Not happening,” Din replied coldly.

Blaster fire erupted, the sound deafening in the confined space. Din moved with precision, returning fire and taking down one of the attackers in seconds. But the others were quick, flanking him and forcing him to retreat closer to your position.

Your hands trembled as you reached for the small blaster Din had insisted you carry. You weren’t a fighter, not like him, but you weren’t about to sit idly by while he and Grogu were in danger.

Grogu whimpered, clutching the shiny orb you’d given him, and your resolve hardened. You shifted to shield his pod with your body, your eyes scanning for an opening.

One of the attackers broke away, heading straight for you.

“Din!” you shouted, but he was too occupied with the other assailant to intervene.

You didn’t think. You didn’t have time to. As the attacker raised his weapon, you lunged forward, firing your blaster. The shot went wide, but it was enough to throw him off. He snarled, swinging his rifle like a club. The impact caught you in the side, and pain exploded through your ribs as you hit the ground hard.

“Stay away from him!” you gasped, struggling to your feet.

The attacker ignored you, his focus locked on Grogu. Adrenaline surged through you, overriding the pain, and you threw yourself between them just as he raised his rifle again. The butt of the weapon struck your shoulder, sending you sprawling.

“Hey!” Din’s voice cut through the chaos, sharp and furious.

Before the attacker could land another blow, Din was there. His blaster fired point-blank, dropping the man instantly.

The last assailant, realizing he was outmatched, fled, leaving the market eerily quiet once more.

Din turned to you, his helmet tilting as he took in your crumpled form.

“You’re hurt,” he said, his voice tight.

“I’m fine,” you lied, wincing as you tried to sit up.

“You’re not fine.” He was already kneeling beside you, his gloved hands hovering uncertainly before settling on your arm. “Why didn’t you stay behind cover?”

You glanced at Grogu, who was peering out of his pod with a worried expression. “I couldn’t let them hurt him,” you said simply.

Din was silent for a moment, his grip on your arm tightening slightly. Then, without a word, he scooped you up, carrying you as if you weighed nothing.

“Din—”

“Quiet,” he interrupted, his voice softer now but still firm. “We’re leaving.”

Grogu’s pod floated along beside him as he carried you back toward the Razor Crest, his stride purposeful.

Back on the ship, Din set you down carefully on the small cot in the corner of the hull. He moved with an efficiency that spoke of experience, pulling out a medkit and sitting beside you.

“Let me see,” he said, gesturing to your side.

“I told you, I’m fine—”

“Let me see,” he repeated, his tone leaving no room for argument.

You sighed, relenting as you pulled up your shirt to reveal the bruises blooming across your ribs. Din’s hands stilled for a moment before he reached out, his touch surprisingly gentle as he examined the injury.

“You’re reckless,” he said quietly, though there was no anger in his voice—only something softer, something you couldn’t quite name.

“You’re one to talk,” you muttered, earning a faint huff of amusement from him.

His gloved fingers lingered on your skin for a moment longer than necessary before he pulled away, reaching for a bacta patch. As he applied it, you noticed how careful he was, as if he was afraid of hurting you.

“Why would you do that?” he asked suddenly, his voice low.

You blinked, caught off guard by the question. “Do what?”

“Put yourself in danger like that.”

You hesitated, searching for the right words. “Because I care about him. About both of you.”

Din stilled, his helmet tilted down toward you. You couldn’t see his face, but you felt the intensity of his gaze all the same.

“You didn’t have to,” he said, his voice almost a whisper.

“I did,” you said softly. “I’d do it again if I had to.”

For a long moment, neither of you spoke. Then, slowly, Din reached up and rested his gloved hand on top of yours.

“Thank you,” he said, his voice filled with a depth of emotion you hadn’t heard before.

Later, you sat on the cot in the hull, your back pressed against the cool metal wall, a blanket wrapped loosely around your shoulders. The dull ache in your ribs had subsided slightly thanks to the bacta patch Din applied earlier, but the events of the day lingered like a storm cloud in your mind.

Grogu sat beside you on the cot, cooing softly as he fiddled with the shiny orb you'd given him earlier. Every now and then, he glanced up at you, his wide, soulful eyes filled with concern. You stroked the soft fuzz on his head absentmindedly, letting his quiet presence soothe you.

The sound of heavy footsteps broke your reverie. Din emerged from the cockpit, his armor catching the dim light as he made his way toward you. He stopped a few paces away, his helmet tilted slightly downward, as if he were unsure how to approach.

“You should be resting,” he said, his voice quieter than usual.

“I’m fine,” you replied, though you knew the strain in your voice betrayed you.

“You’re not,” he said, taking another step closer. He gestured to the bruises on your side. “That’s going to take time to heal. You should stay off your feet for a while.”

“And what about you?” you countered, raising an eyebrow. “When’s the last time you rested?”

He didn’t answer, his helmet tilting slightly as if to avoid your gaze.

“Exactly,” you said, shaking your head. “Don’t lecture me about rest when you’re just as bad at it.”

Din sighed, the sound soft but unmistakable. He stepped closer, lowering himself onto the bench across from you. For a moment, the two of you sat in silence, the hum of the ship filling the space between you.

“Why did you do it?” he asked suddenly, breaking the quiet. His voice was steady, but there was something beneath it—something raw.

“Do what?” you asked, though you already knew the answer.

“Put yourself in danger for him. For us.”

You glanced down at Grogu, who was now chewing on the edge of the blanket draped over your lap. “Because I care,” you said simply, your voice barely above a whisper.

Din didn’t respond right away. Instead, he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. His helmet was angled toward the floor, but you could feel the weight of his gaze even if you couldn’t see his eyes.

“I’ve seen people do reckless things for credits, for revenge, for power,” he said slowly. “But you… You didn’t hesitate. You didn’t even think about yourself.”

“I thought about Grogu,” you said, your tone firmer now. “And about you. I couldn’t just sit back and let something happen to either of you.”

His shoulders stiffened slightly, and you wondered if you’d said too much. But then he spoke again, his voice softer this time.

“You could’ve been killed.”

“I know.”

“And you’d do it again.”

It wasn’t a question, but you nodded anyway. “I would.”

Din leaned back against the wall, his gloved hands resting on his thighs. He stayed silent for a long moment, the tension in the air thick enough to cut.

“You shouldn’t have to,” he said finally, his voice barely audible.

You frowned, tilting your head to the side. “What do you mean?”

“It’s my job to protect him,” he said, his tone almost bitter. “And you. I should’ve been faster, better. You shouldn’t have had to step in.”

The guilt in his voice was palpable, and it twisted something in your chest. You leaned forward, reaching out to rest a hand on his arm.

“Din, you can’t be everywhere at once,” you said gently. “You did everything you could. You always do.”

He didn’t pull away from your touch, but his posture remained rigid. “It’s not enough,” he murmured.

“It is,” you insisted. “And even if it wasn’t, we’re a team, aren’t we? You don’t have to do everything on your own.”

He finally turned his helmet toward you, the reflective surface catching the faint light of the hull. “A team,” he repeated, as if testing the word.

“Yes,” you said firmly. “And a team watches out for each other. That’s what I was doing. Watching out for you and Grogu.”

Grogu chose that moment to coo softly, reaching out with his tiny hands to touch Din’s armored knee. The gesture seemed to break through some of the tension, and Din let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head.

“You spoil him,” he said, though his tone lacked any real admonishment.

“Someone has to,” you replied with a grin.

Din fell quiet again, but this time the silence felt different—less heavy, more contemplative. He reached out, gently brushing his gloved fingers over Grogu’s ear, eliciting a delighted squeal from the child.

“He cares about you,” Din said, his voice warm. “More than I’ve seen him care about anyone else.”

You felt a lump form in your throat, and you swallowed hard before answering. “I care about him, too. And you.”

The words hung in the air between you, heavier than you intended. Din’s helmet tilted slightly, as if he were studying you, and your heart raced under his scrutiny.

“I know,” he said finally, his voice quiet but certain.

You blinked, unsure how to respond. Before you could say anything, Din rose to his feet, his movements fluid and deliberate. He reached out, resting a hand on your shoulder—a brief, almost hesitant gesture, but one that sent warmth spreading through you.

“Get some rest,” he said, his voice soft. “I’ll take first watch.”

“Din—”

“Please,” he added, cutting you off.

The word caught you off guard. You nodded slowly, leaning back against the cot as Grogu snuggled closer to your side. Din lingered for a moment longer before turning and walking back toward the cockpit, his steps heavy but purposeful.

As the door hissed shut behind him, you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding. Grogu made a soft, contented sound, and you stroked his head absently, your thoughts spinning.

Din’s words echoed in your mind, mingling with the unspoken emotions you’d seen in his actions. There was something there—something deeper than duty, something neither of you were ready to name.

For now, you let it be.

Feel free to request <3

[lxvesicklili]

— ✦ Quiet jealousy ✦ —

✦ Pairing: Mikael x Audrey (MC) ✦ Book: Astrea's Broken Heart ✦ Rating: T ✦ Warning: Slight mention of possessive behaviour ✦ Tagging: @rc-catalog ✦ Special tags: @bubblexly @mikaelsrose @liykaii @adilqalbi <3 ✦ Note: A Mikael fic! I hope everyone enjoys it. Comments and reblogs are always appreciated :)

Mikael followed her with his gaze, wine glass in hand, posture relaxed…but that was not quite true. His brows were slightly furrowed, mouth set in a straight line, and if you looked closely—

David took a sip of his drink, masking a smile. He swirled the liquid, pointing it first at Mikael, then at their evaluator. Sure, her smile is dazzling. He chuckled, eyes twinkling.

“Oh, you are so jealous.”

The archangel turned his head to face him, swift and sharp. An unamused sigh escaped him, his posture stiff. “David, don’t.”

Raphael looked at his brother with quiet curiosity but said nothing. Of course, the man’s so-called ‘hidden’ affections for Audrey weren’t well-hidden at all. Everyone could see the way his stern eyes softened every time she looked at him, or spoke during their meetings. Her laughter—scratch that, even the woman’s smile made him tongue-tied.

The melancholic man also tried to mask his suddenly bright expression. He noticed Mikael holding back a sigh as he turned his gaze away from her, clenching the glass in his hand a little too tightly than required.

David laughed as he nudged Cassiel. “Here he’s frowning and on the verge of tears, but as soon as our dear Audrey comes back, he’s going to be back to his normal self.”

The boss didn’t hear him, looking absorbed in his thoughts. Cassiel rolled his eyes, looking uncomfortable in such a place. The party venues had never been his thing. The stoic man raised an eyebrow at the lawyer.

“Don’t you have better things to say, David?” Cassiel murmured, voice low.

David shrugged, downing his glass of wine. “I mean, I can tell in detail how the old woman tried to run and beat up her husband with a designer bag during today’s case.” 

Cassiel grimaced. “Keep your mouth shut, David.”

But Mikael’s words interrupted their banter, they turned to look at the approaching figure.

“You are back.” Mikael said, nodding his head. “Good. We should leave.”

David nodded his head, whisper of the earlier smile still present. “Our boss missed you.” Mikael simply raised an eyebrow, daring him to go further, and Audrey looked at the man in question, a gentle look appearing on her face upon hearing David’s words.

Raphael shook his head, seeming tired. “Let’s just leave.” The evaluator agreed with him, and the small group began to walk outside when Audrey looked at the appraiser.

“You aren’t coming with us, right?” She asked, remembering Raphael mentioning that he had to go somewhere after attending the event. He nodded his head, a tired yet warm smile on his face.

“Yes.” Raphael replied, “Go ahead. I will be home later.”

Home. Audrey’s lips twitched a little. It feels right, now. Home. The guys, Felonia, and me. Especially…her gaze travelled towards their boss, Mikael. Home feels complete with him in it.

She quickly averted her gaze, not wanting him to catch her staring at him. A smirk, it’s not like he doesn’t know how much I look at him, though.

—

The sky had darkened considerably. Night brought stars with it, and Audrey looked up at them from the car’s window. She was lost in her thoughts. It was David’s sudden question that had her looking ahead.

“So, who was that? A friend from college?” The woman could almost hear the amused smile in her friend’s voice.

“Yeah, you could say that.” A quick glance at the man she loved. “One of the only decent guys there.”

David chuckled, catching her eye in the rear-view mirror. “With the way he was making heart eyes at you…”

Cassiel sighed from the passenger seat, already knowing what the lawyer was up to. He almost let out a scoff again. Getting a rise out of their boss—

“David, just drive. Be quiet.” The archangel’s voice was more stern than usual.

—Is not easy? Cassiel’s eyes widened. Well…okay.

—

“Mikael,” Audrey said as she entered his office behind him. It was late. They should go sleep—well, she should go to bed because it’s not as if the immortals require rest as much as she does. “Is everything okay?”

He paused in the middle of loosening his tie, the archangel’s back turned to her. The evaluator heard him take a small breath before he took off the suffocating material, and turned around to face her. Audrey’s breath hitched.

The moon’s light enveloped him. It kissed the top of his hair, the loose strands placed neatly on his shoulders, the sharp contours of his face, and—Mikael’s voice brought her out of her thoughts that were pulling the woman deeper and deeper. Audrey hoped he didn’t catch the sight of her cheeks warming.

“Why wouldn’t I be alright, Audrey?” There was a sense of finality in his tone, as if telling her to not look too deeply into it. Everything was fine. He wasn’t…irritated. But she didn’t like the hint of steel in his beautiful eyes.

Especially not when he looked at her like that.

Her brows pinched together a little. She crossed her arms over her chest, and regarded him, “You are…different tonight.” With a sigh, “Did I do or say something?”

He didn’t answer, continuing to look at her. 

The black-haired woman’s earlier expression slowly morphed into a surprised one, “I know you aren’t the type to really get jealous, so did I accidentally say something wrong...?”

Despite his annoyance—but he shouldn’t be annoyed. He wasn’t a young mortal—his lips quirked up in a gesture of fondness. Something he did often in the company of the woman he…well, it was just her. Her presence made him feel things of varying degrees.

“It wasn’t a pleasant sight to see his arm wrapped around your waist.” Mikael admitted, taking a step closer towards her, and relishing in the sight of her adorable flustered expression.

“Oh…” She said, not knowing what else to respond with. “Well…”

“I apologize for my straightforwardness,” the man softly spoke, gaze trained on her beautiful face as he caressed her cheek. He didn’t sound apologetic at all. “Seeing you smile at another man so warmly was…”

“Not a pleasant sight?” She smirked.

He chuckled. “I see. Your sense of humour is back.” Mikael’s eyes softened, “I have never felt like this before. At times, it's troubling...”

Audrey waited for him to continue, her heart hammering against her ribcage, wanting to be set free. “...Feeling so possessive over someone.”

The urge to protect her and make her feel loved. To hold her.

“I do wonder if you ate something wrong at the event…” she murmured, cheeks flushing. “But it’s not like I have feelings for him, you know.”

“I’m aware.”

Audrey stepped closer to him, slipping her arms around his waist. Mikael caressed her back, not breaking eye contact with her. Steely grey eyes softened even further upon connecting with warm brown ones.

“Then why?”

This time, his reply was swift. He whispered, “You are a master at making me lose my composure.” Mikael paused near her lips, asking for permission, she nodded.

Yes, she’s certainly good at it…

[inhuman-obey-me]

Congrats on 100k likes!! Is there any more room or space left? If so, Belphegor and 7 pls!

Thank you!! And you're the lucky last one we're doing. <3

Belphegor + 7 | "Better Days" - Currents

cw: depression talk

It's said that when humans have a sleep paralysis demon haunting them, they often feel an unyielding weight upon their bodies, rendering them unable to move. It's a tried and true trick that Belphegor knows quite well.

"Is this what it feels like?" he muses, sprawled out on his bed as he stares at the ceiling, eyes tracing a pattern of painted stars. He's been doing this for the past ten hours, unable to get himself up to do much of anything else. The weight pressing down on him was suffocating, so why did he also find it so oddly comforting? Had he just gotten used to the heaviness? Used to the hole that had dug itself deep into his chest?

"Belphie, you haven't eaten anything all day." Beelzebub's voice draws him out of his thoughts. Lazily turning his head to meet his twin's gaze, he lets out a long sigh.

"Not hungry."

Beelzebub frowns, crumbs littering his face as he chews on whatever he just stuffed into his mouth. It's clear he wants to say something, but he instead plops down on the floor beside Belphegor's bed, leaning back and pulling out another snack to munch on. The seventh-born almost wants to tell him to leave, but he knows it'll get him nowhere — Beelzebub always knew when something was wrong.

"…Do you ever miss it?"

"Mish wha?" His brother responds, his mouth full.

"The Celestial Realm." Belphegor's fingers curl into fists, his brows furrowed as he turns to look at the wall. "Being an angel."

He can hear Beel pause his chewing before resuming at a quicker pace. After a few moments, Belphegor feels the bed tilt and move, Beelzebub now having lifted himself to sit on its edge.

"I mean, yeah. Sometimes." Beelzebub shifts. "It was a big part of our lives, so it's only natural, right? But I'm happy to be a demon now too, and to be here with our family, which is what's really important."

"Except for Lilith."

"…Yeah. Except for Lilith." His twin deflates. "…What's on your mind, Belphie?"

"Sometimes it feels like I'm the only one who just gets stuck." The words are bitter on his tongue, frustration rising in his voice. "I'm glad we finally found out the truth about what happened to her, but it doesn't erase the fact that she's gone. Everyone else just…moved on! And I'm just here."

That suffocating yet comforting weight, keeping him in place.

"…Are you here? It sounds more like you're there." With a forceful tap on Belphegor's shoulder, Beelzebub makes him turn towards him. "I…get it. You know I do. I still feel guilty — and yes, I know," he stops Belphie from interrupting, "…it's not my fault, it couldn't be helped. But I still feel that way. So sometimes I feel like I'm more there, you know." He scratches the back of his neck, trying to find the right words. "Mammon and Asmo talk a lot about 'living in the moment', and I think I get it. We can't change the past, but we can hold onto what we have right now, like each other."

"…Really? You got your great advice from those two?" Belphegor groans, but it's hard to hide the hint of a smile on his lips. "I think they're probably talking more about partying and doing something stupid."

"Probably, but it doesn't change what I said." Beelzebub stands up, holding out a hand to his brother with a determined look. "So, how about we try living in the moment right now? Maybe we can even go do something stupid."

A low chuckle, and it's like the weight lessens. A knowing sigh, and it lessens again. Belphegor reaches out to take the other's hand, letting himself get dragged off the bed.

"Okay. But don't blame me if Lucifer gets mad."