#you didn't see them holding hands the entire way out of that cave

[softquietsteadylove]

Alright your Pokémon au is just amazing! Here is another prompt to this beautiful AU! Gillade watching Gil and Thena dancing around each other a while now and decided to take a little action by bumping Gil “accidentally“ so he kisses Thena 😂

"Thanks again for the save, today."

"Don't mention it," Thena said softly, opting for that rather than telling him that it was insane to think that she wouldn't come to his rescue if he needed her. "Did you at least get some rest this afternoon?"

"The Audino checked me over and I was cleared for duty!" he smiled, although Thena glared at him for it. He chuckled, stirring around his bowl of soup. "Really, Thena, I promise I'm fine. They're trained to treat people and pokemon there, and they all agreed I could go back to work tomorrow."

He was omitting the fact that they wanted to keep him overnight for observation. The only reason he was here for dinner was on the promise that he would come back tonight and sleep with routine check-ins by the medical staff at the ranger centre.

"Ursa?!"

Gil chuckled, patting Teddiursa on the head as Thena ladled him more soup before he could even protest. "Don't worry, buddy, I'm fine. Your brave Mama came and rescued me from a pack of wild pokemon today."

"Teddi!" Yes, the little cub knew that, because he had been left home with Ninetales since it was 'too dangerous', and 'nowhere for her baby'. "Teddiursa!"

"No," Thena reasserted, and it silenced the little bear in one blow. Although he did sit himself on the counter with his little paws crossed and his cheeks puffed out. Thena shook her head, poking one of those fuzzy little cheeks and immediately receiving a giggle as a reward. "Bewear are very dangerous pokemon. I couldn't risk you getting hurt if things didn't go well."

"Teddiursa!" it protested, gesturing to Gallade. If the fighting/psychic type was entrusted to protect Thena and Gil out in the field, then why couldn't it have come too?

Thena set Gil's bowl back in his hands before poking Teddiursa in the tummy, getting another giggle for it. "That's enough of that, sweetie-poffin. Gallade had enough to worry about out there."

Damn right he did, Gallade mused as he observed the little family around him. Thena was tickling the grumpiness out of her little cub while Ranger Gil...well, he was watching Thena. Like always.

Gil took another bite of soup. The base of it was his own recipe that he'd managed to teach Thena (through excruciating trial and error). She was terrible at making human food, but at least with his soup base recipe all she had to do was throw in edible ingredients. And this soup sure was edible.

Thena settled Teddiursa against her hip, looking at Gil to see if he was regaining the colour in his cheeks. But when she looked at him he was already looking at her, and with a funny look on his face. Thena's cheeks took on colour of their own.

Gallade rolled its eyes. One night of watching tv without witnessing its trainer's terrible attempt at a love life--was that so much to ask?

"Ninetales," the fox pokemon by the fire commented. As always, she chose to stay out of it; if Thena figured out her feelings for the Ranger then good for her. But Ninetales was happy to let it happen organically.

After all, Ninetales had known about Gil's feelings for Thena since she was a Vulpix. Gil had a similar ignorance to it all as Thena did, but certainly he knew he felt...something, for Thena. It was further than the ace trainer had gotten to figuring it out, for Arceus' sake.

"Gallade," the Blade pokemon replied, looking over its shoulder again.

"Tell me you don't have to go out there again tonight," Thena frowned at Gil, scratching behind Teddiursa's ears idly.

"Not tonight, I'm just heading back to the centre to rest," Gil shook his head, still eating the soup. "I've got afternoon duty tomorrow, though."

Thena sighed, although her eyes made it seem like she'd rather be yelling, "I would think you could take a few days off after nearly being choked to death by a wild Bewear."

Gil didn't even blink, though, just laughing into his next spoonful. "Ah, it's okay. And besides, it's pretty much just aerial sweeps."

"Just don't go flying into a flock of Altaria," Thena teased a little more lightly, bumping his hip with hers.

They could just sit at her table, like normal people. But they took all their meals in the kitchen, standing up, talking with their heads close, elbows bumping, trading soft stories and loud, belting laughs.

Gallade turned the tv off and stood; enough was enough.

"I know you'd rescue me anyway," Gil chuckled, bumping her hip right back and setting down his third empty bowl on the counter. He turned to face her properly.

"Excuse me," she laughed, letting Teddiursa hop out of her arms to take Gil's bowl to the sink for her. "Who's the Ranger here?"

"Hey, I'm a pokemon Ranger, I range pokemon," Gil corrected, making Thena laugh until her cheeks were pink.

Gallade sighed, 'bumping' into Gil's back on its way to the berry cupboard.

Gil blinked rapidly, eyes wide. He had collided with Thena, pressing her against the counter, although he'd reached out to brace himself - and her - from the fall.

Thena's eyes had squeezed shut as Gil's lips landed against hers. She had been laughing--she un-pursed her lips, relaxing them against his. It was...kind of nice.

Gil was stunned as he felt Thena melt against him, just a little. But he realised too late that his eyes were already closed. He was already kissing her back. His hand was already on her cheek to do it.

Thena sighed as they parted ways, pulling away slowly. Her eyes fluttered open and found Gil's doing the same. She stared at him, wondering if he always looked so...wonderful. "Um..."

"Uh," Gil blinked right back at her, also at a loss for words. But blood rushed to his ears, making him wish he had his hat to hide his embarrassment (or at least fidget with). "S-Sorry! I-I didn't-"

"No, it was-"

Both stared the other down, trying to figure out what the next move was. Did they deny it?--deny that it happened, deny that it was nice? Deny that they undeniably both liked it?

Gallade glared at them from the couch again; did he do all this for nothing?

"It was," Thena paused, her voice barely coming out as she took in a shaky breath, "nice."

"Oh," Gil let out numbly (dumbly). The singular word made the colour in Thena's cheeks deepen and his heart nearly threw itself through his chest to offer itself to her, "I-I liked it too!"

"Okay," Thena mumbled, clearly at a loss for words.

"Okay," Gil mumbled back, trying to think of what to say. He had no fear wandering right into a pack of Bewear, sure, but uttering a few words to his beautiful trainer friend?--apparently impossible.

"Right."

"Uh," Gil sucked in a breath. He was still standing close to her, not having moved all that far away after the kiss. He tapped his thumb against her hip, "hey."

Thena peeked up at him through long, sandy lashes.

Gil kissed her again. Thena leaned into it more naturally this time. His hand came up, brushing over her cheek and pushing her hair back a little. Their heads tilted to the side together as they pulled apart again. Gil licked his lips. "I have to go, but...can I...come see you in the morning?"

Thena licked her lips too, nodding as they eyes held together almost too strongly. She smiled, "same time as always?"

"Yeah," Gil let out a faint laugh, smiling at her like he had never seen anything like her.

He hadn't.

"Okay," Thena whispered, keeping her eyes on him as he reached around blindly for his hat, gripping it in his hand as he waved to her on his way out. She waved back, "see you then."

Gil stared at her until the door had to break their gazes for them.

Thena immediately turned around, throwing her head in her hands on the kitchen counter. She pressed a scream of sorts into the back of her hand.

Teddiursa tumbled back, startled by the sudden outburst from his usually calm Mama. He turned over, petting her hair the way she pet his fur when he needed comforting. "Teddi?"

Thena didn't look up, only pointing to where she knew her Arceus forsaken pokemon was sitting on the couch (like a menace). "You don't deserve a luxury ball!"

"Gallade," he waved off, willing to accept any frustrations of hers if it meant not having to watch them dance around anymore.

[writersdrug]

Heyyyyyy!!! So I’m absolutely freaking OBSESSED with your bartender AU… like I’m just eating up everything that’s coming out with itttttt!!! I love your writing so much and I’m honestly so hooked whenever I read your stuff!

I was wondering if I could request something with bartender Simon Riley and it’s where he finds reader crying in the backroom/pantry/stock area of the pub cause it’s been one of *THOSE* days. So he finds her there and sits with her and she just absolutely melts onto him and it’s all very sweet… sorry if this too much info for a request! Again, I absolutely love your work! 🤭🫶

Combining this with a few other asks about reader and Simon having a tender moment + reader having monetary issues

You're rather quiet today - you'd come in and spoken your hello's to everyone, then promptly got to work. Starting on rolling silverware in the far booth, then fifo-ing the pantry and fridge upstairs, then cleaning the bathrooms (you hated cleaning them, which is how Simon first figured out something was wrong). Didn't even reach for the French toast sticks Soap had put under the warmer for everyone. You have an expression plastered to your face as you work. Something between frustration and worry, and it has Price, Johnny, and Simon all on edge. Still, they let you be; it was well-known by now that personal space is sacred to them, and Simon trusts that you'll speak up if you need a shoulder.

Gaz couldn't stay to help drag the kegs upstairs today - something about the Brewmaster being on a trip to Austria, so he was left to watch the brewery. Simon doesn't mind that much. He can easily lift two kegs onto his shoulders and trudge them upstairs to the fridge. He grunts as he moves past the office, careful not to bang the kegs on any corners. Adjusting his grip, he pushes his way into the walk-in fridge-

He sees you, facing the boxes of fruits. "Oh- sorry, luv-" he sets the first keg down, then the second. "Y' need me to reach somethin'?"

You shake your head. Simon furrows his brow, noticing how tense your shoulders are. You're just... standing there. Not reaching for anything, not even looking at the shelves. Just staring at your feet.

You're crying.

All of his duties as a bartender fall to the side. He lets the door fall shut behind him. "Hey, hey... what's goin' on?" he places a hand on your upper back, rubbing his thumb back and forth as he waits for you to turn around. His mind is racing a million miles a minute, trying to imagine what could possibly have you this upset - and what he can do to fix it.

You shake your head, sniffling and trying to control your breaths. "It's nothing, I'm just - just a weird day, y'know? Not sure why I'm crying." You turn to look up at him and muster a smile, though your teary eyes say something else entirely.

He sighs. "C'mon, what's wrong?" He kneels down so that he's looking up at you - something his mom used to do when he felt too overwhelmed to tell her why he was crying. He can't explain it, but it made it easier to let go of whatever was troubling him.

Your lip wobbles, and you cave. Simon holds himself steady as you hug him, his burly arms wrapping around the small of your back. You sob, chest shaking with sharp inhales and sniffles, and Simon closes his eyes and sighs. This is what he wants: to be the lighthouse in your storm, to hold you steady while you began to slip. More than anything, though, he doesn't want you to cry.

He does what he remembers his mother doing. He gently shushes you, heart aching as you fist the back of his shirt and try to compose yourself. He uses one hand to drag an upturned crate behind you, slowly lowering you to sit down. The last thing he wants to do is let go of you, but he needs you to talk. He grabs a bucket and pulls it under him, planting himself in front of you and looking into your eyes.

"Talk to me. What's on your mind, hmm?"

You explain it all through sniffles and sobs: you're mom's recently called and said she wants to visit you. You're embarrassed with yourself, still living in that shitty apartment with your shitty roommate, a marketing degree hanging on your wall that you've never used (believe me, you've tried, but places really aren't hiring). Money isn't tight, but you're not saving - just making enough to exist and occasionally buy the name brand instead of the generic. One thing spirals into another, and you find yourself despairing about how you're never going to be anyone important, you're never going to make a difference - you're not even a cog in the machine. You're just the space between it.

God knows Simon's felt it, too.

"See?" you laugh at yourself, wiping a tear away with your fingers. "It's stupid. I do this every once in a while, right before my period."

Simon grunts. Good to know he can start buying chocolate and leaving it stuffed in the server cabinet. "It's not stupid, luv. You're worried - it's alright."

You cover your eyes, fighting the urge to start sobbing again. "I just... I feel like I'm not doing what I should be doing. I'm not getting anywhere. I thought I was going to be in a corporate office by now, living in a penthouse apartment and travelling wherever I want."

Simon scoffs. "Well, that's just unrealistic."

You huff. "I know. But that's success, isn't it?"

"Is that what you want?"

"Success? I mean... doesn't everyone?"

"Lemme put it this way." Simo leans his elbows on his knees, and you find yourself being drawn in to meet him, arms folded over your stomach.

"I assume you're happy 'ere." he says, looking you in the eyes. "What, with making your silly li'l drinks and swappin' all my shit for somethin' pink, 'n whatnot."

You giggle. "Yeah, I am..."

"Do you want to be happy?"

"I..." you pause. "Yeah, I do. Of course."

"Then aren't you already successful?" he asks. "You're not drownin' in bills - I hope you'd tell me if ya were - and you're happy. Is workin' a stupid corporate job n' livin' above the clouds gonna make it better?"

You looked at his hands, turning over the words in your head. It was stupid. It was the stupidest thing you've ever been worried about - he was completely right. You're happy here. You've never been happier - not in college, not at your data entry job, and definitely not in high school. You laugh, looking down at your own hands. "Yeah, you're... you're right. God, that was stupid-"

"Oi." he says sternly, slapping your knee - you froze, attention fully directed to him now.

"'S not stupid." he says, pointing a finger at you. "Just have to work through this sort of shit."

You watch as he stands and stretches his arms over his head, joints popping and cracking. "Should leave, 'fore we start heating up the fridge." he opens the door, and you quickly stand and follow him on the way out.

"What about the kegs?" you ask, following him down the stairs. "Do you need help bringing those up?"

"Give it time. Let it cool back down in there." He pauses at the bottom of the stairs, hand on the doorknob as he watches you quickly smear away the mascara under your eyes. "You eat anything today?"

You shake your head, fixing the knot on your server apron.

Simon forces his eyes away from your waist. "There's French Toast on the warmer - Soap made it for you. Go take a fifteen."

"But I haven't fini-"

"'M not askin'." he grunts out, pushing through the stairwell door and into the restaurant. He leaves you there to finish collecting yourself, staring after him with a small smile.

If this was you when you had first started working here, you would have thought he was frustrated with you for being so emotional. Now, that's just how you've come to know him. You quickly fix your hair and wipe your face once more, stepping out into the pub. The smell of cinnamon sugar wafts through the air as you make your way towards the kitchen, sparing one last sentimental glance to Simon as he begins setting up his bar.

[smuddee-papabear]

Thinking of a dragon that's hoard is entirely made up of knights who came to slay him and were all fucked out of their minds instead. (male dragon X male reader)

Just imagine you're a knight sent to slay a dragon who has killed an unholy amount of your fellow knights. You're not feeling too great about your chances but you weren't given a choice by your king, who just wants the beast's horns mounted above his throne.

You found the cave easily, even getting in was a breeze, but instead of piles of jewels and other fineries you see a good chunk of half or fully naked men lounging casually.

You're almost too shocked to notice the unmistakable feeling of something looming behind you. But notice it you do.

Whirling around isn't an option. A large clawed hand curls around your torso as a single claw slips your helmet off. Hot breath hits your newly exposed neck.

"Hello little knight. Did the king send me another treasure for my hoard?"

The men in the cave turn at the voice, and with heavy shock you realize that you recognize several of them. A blonde man lounging nude next to a natural pool was the very knight sent out before you.

His knowing smile does nothing to ease your confusion.

The dragon lets out a low growl as he turns you around. "Look at me little one."

You brace your sword for an attack but the creature stuns all action from you. His emerald scales seem to glitter in the dappled light, massive curled horns framing the sharp face lowered to stare back at you. There's an elegant grace to his poised musculature; powerful but sleek.

His body is long and slender. It's nothing like the stocky build you were expecting to encounter. Lost in awe you almost miss the sound of your sword clattering upon the stones.

His amber eyes crinkle as if in amusement. There's an animalistic playfulness in them that holds you hostage. "Quite a lovely little trinket you are. Come, we'll get those awful chunks of metal from your body so I may see you properly."

Before you can object you're scooped up in those massive claws and taken to a smaller pocket in the cave out of view to the others. You were back to complete confusion.

Dragons were supposed to like treasure, gold and jewels and silver, not knights.

Your armor is removed with a delicate and practiced air. This was most definitely not the first time the dragon unclothed a human knight.

Stripped bare you suddenly feel self conscious. The way the dragon's gaze trails every curve, every scar and blemish, causes a fire to burn across your skin.

A low rumble fills the cavern. "Yes, you will make a fine addition to my hoard."

Movement draws your eyes to the dragon's lower legs. A spear tipped cock was unsheathing, already dripping to the stones. It was small for his size but still massive compared to yourself.

Was he expecting you to take that? You figured it would end up splitting you in two. Again before you can protest you are firmly pressed into the fur lined bed.

His long tongue trails down, the warmth giving you goosebumps as it travels over your sternum to your belly and even lower. A whine slips from your lips as your own cock hardens in response. The dragon lets out a rumble.

Something slides to your ass. For a moment you panic, thinking it to be the dragon's cock already, and twist to see. It's not his penis.

You realize it's a claw, worn down to a dull point for safety. As your entrance is teased you fight against you own thoughts. You shouldn't enjoy this! You should be slaying the beast!

But you can't deny the warm weight that settles in your lower stomach, the barely contained whimpers. Many knights have lovers but you chose not to. You wanted to be fully dedicated to your training. Unfortunately that didn't mean that you didn't feel the urges, it just meant you never acted on them before.

And now you are so desperate to feel it that your orders are slipping from your mind.

Your dragon licks and teases until you're shaking. Once you're a begging mess he pulls his claw back and positions his cock. You moan as it goes in.

It's so large it burns but not in a way that makes you want to stop. In, in in, until he bottoms out. You never thought you'd feel this full. Your dragon waits until your muscles ease to start a steady pace.

His rumbles combine with your groans. You scramble to grab ahold of him, finding his forearms, and arch your back. New sensations wipe the last of your concerns from your mind.

"Ple-please-!" Your breathy whisper causes your dragon to shudder. From the side of your vision you see his pupils blow out.

No longer gentle, you dragon's eyes roll up as his hips buck the thick penis into your hole over and over. The calm pace turns into a fever pitch. You squirm from the overwhelming pleasure rolling over you in thundering waves.

You feel a climax building and with a breathy gasp white ropes shoot out onto your dragon's scales and your own belly. That only encourages him more.

He takes quite a few more minutes, amazing minutes, to cum himself. A roar shakes the cavern.

Your dragon doesn't collapse on you so much as lays down but his weight still bears down strong. Both of you are breathing hard.

"The claiming process is long, trinket. I need to be sure it properly sticks." Your chest heaves in anticipation. A few hours, the rest of the day, you weren't sure how long long was but you find yourself too cock drunk to care. The dragon's tongue laps your chest again.

In the end, "long" is a three day haze of pleasure and climaxes. Being sent to slay the dragon, you decide, was the best thing to happen to you.

[unify-life]

Letters from Beyond

(A.K.A Field Notes and other Emotions)

Demon Twins AU told through letters addressed to Damian from Danny. Written as his promise to return to Damian eventually.

A freshly vivisected Danny flying frantically through the ghost zone - pinching his skin together and gathering himself in a desperate hug in attempt to keep himself in one peice. He knows he needs to get away and his ever present goal of finding his brother ringing in his brain.

Danny doesn't notice a portal open up in front of him, so he isnt prepared to fly headfirst into a wall.

The batfam are just leaving the dining hall after a family supper when a portal opens up in front of them. They all tense in preparation for an attack when a black blur speeds past them and face plants into the opposite wall.

Danny looks up, sees Damian, and bursts into hysterical giggle-sobs.

"I did it Ahki. I made it back to you! I did it! I did it... I am so sorry - this is not how I wanted our reunion to go! I'm sorry - I'm sorry."

Danny's being flickers sickly as he coughs, Lazarus green trickling from his lips.

Damian snaps out of his shock in horrified recognition.

"Ahki... Danyal? Is that you?" He runs to his brothers side to help him sit up, noticing and alarmed by the growing puddle of green.

"Dami! I made it back! I am so sorry it took so long. I didn't want this to go this way. I don't - I can't - I am going to pass out and what little is holding me together will fail me. I didn't want you to get me back this way, I didn't want to do this to you! I love you, I'm sorry!"

Danyal manifests a small wooden box seemingly from thin air and hands it to his twin. "Take this." Before his eyes roll back and with a flash, he becomes human. More reminiscent of the boy Damian remembers. Red begins to rapidly mix with the glowing green pool beneath them.

Damian becomes frantic, snapping himself out of it and then calling the stunned batfam to action.

Dr. Leslie is called to the cave, the mysterious boy is settled into a cot and several emergency surgeries are performed half blind because they do not know his base stats. They eventually get him somewhat stable.

Damian gives a bare boned explanation to his family about his dead brother.

He keeps vigil at Danyal's side and takes out the box he had been given.

Inside is a set of notebooks and a stack of drawings.

The drawings are mostly of Damian. Some of the stars over Nanda Parbat, sketches of little memories they shared together, etc.

He roots through the notebooks to find them dated and organized by year, starting a week or so after Danyal 'died.'

Damian opens the first and begins to read through them. He is pleased to note they are almost entirely written in the code they came up with together.

The rest of the story is told through Danny's journals and occasionally cutting back to the present the get batfam reactions to having another brother they hope they will get to meet if/when he ever wakes up. They also are trying to investigate who could be responsible for the vivisection. Every one of them is up in arms over it.

Journal #1 begins as a mission log.

The demon twins had been training or sparring or just back from a mission. Ra's took issue with Danny over some supposed wrongdoing. He was dragged away from his brother - beaten and killed and brought back to life with the Lazarus Pits.

The Pits took pity on Danny and did not return him to Ra's. Rather, Danyal awoke perhaps a week later in the same pool and cavern, but something is off. There is nobody there. When he goes to exit the cave, there is only empty mountain tops. No sign or trace of any buildings.

At first, Danny believes this is some strange, elaborate mission. So. Determined to get back to his brother and prove he deserved to be at his side, he takes up the mission to find the league.

He steals himself a notebook, knife, and food in the town at the base of the mountain before he goes off in search of the other bases.

There is a skillfully hand drawn map in the notebook, surrounded by neatly scrawled notes and crossed off sections.

There is a faint smear of mud and blood like someone had tried to brush away the dirt with bloody hands and only half succeeded. One of the bases in a cliff filled area is crosses off in blood. Notes added after are in a noticeably different colour of pen.

After several bases and field notes, are the words "Bases nonexistent. More research needed."

What follows are increasingly messy notes of research done in a library. Comparison notes of what should and should not exist. There is no Justice League, no aliens, no meta rights acts, no Batman. Upon further investigation, whole constellations are missing from the sky - some replaced with unfamiliar galaxies. 

He is not where he used to be.

The journals take a sharp turn from mission reports and field notes to a series of letters addressed to Damian.

"I do not know how I ended up here, Ahki, but I swear I will come back for you. I cannot leave you with a man who could do what he did to his own family. I do not believe you are safe. I cannot leave you behind, I would not know what to do without you."

There are extensive notes on dimensional travel and research that eventually provides a strange lead. The Drs. Fenton. Their research is unorthodox, but could have potential for what he wants. It couldn't hurt to check it out, he was already running out of options and stamina. Hunting without tools and a partner was so much harder than he expected and stealing was trickier when your vision blurred from an empty stomach and it's growling threatened to give you away.

Danny manages to sneak onto a cargo plane into the USA and goes in search of the Fentons.

He finds them 6-12 months after waking up in this dimension. He comes to them with questions about their research which they find endearing and agree to take him in without much thought to legality. This is ok though, because the twins were taught how to forge identities. Jazz comes back from camp to find she has a new brother and doesn't question it much because "New Brother!" and she isn't so alone anymore.

There are a couple of journals spanning the time in between. Fairly mundane moments mixed in with longing and research to return to Damian.

"The Drs. Fenton are an odd pair. If I had other options for returning to you, I would not have given them the time of day. Alas, I must endure their bazaar mix of genius and idiocy."

"Jasmine is an idealistic girl, but not wholly unpleasant to have in my presence."

"They have remembered my age and existence long enough to decide that I must go to 'school' before they will allow me to help more in their labratory. Tt. A waste of time, but I will do what I must to earn their favour."

"Jasmine has gotten it into her head that 'school' will be good for me and my 'budding social skills' I have yet to see any evidence of this."

"I have been approached by a boy named Tucker Foley with the intent to become 'friends.' You are the only friend I have need of, Ahki, but perhaps I will allow it in my endeavors to disguise myself in this realm."

"I am beginning to make actual friends here. I must admit I don't know what to feel about this. Am I allowed to find happiness without you by my side? Am I allowed to want this even as I throw myself at every possibility of going home to you? If I could bring you here - away from the league - maybe I would. I think you would like it here too."

"Jack and Maddie have been letting me aid them in their work more and more these days. Most of their science seems sound, even if their theories are unfounded and full of bias. However, if Jack does not stop smearing fudge all over my finished equations he may soon find himself missing a hand."

"It has been nearly 4 years since I last saw you. I must admit that the longer my stay in this world stretches on, the faster I lose hope of ever seeing you again."

"I doubt you will ever read these and Jazz is always nagging at me to write down my thoughts and worries. My nights have been plagued with never-ending nightmares. That I will never see you again, that you die at my hands or I die at yours, that all of this is some strange afterlife. I do not know what Mother told you about my disappearance, but I doubt it was the full truth. Grandfather was very angry with me. I do not like to think of it outside of sleep, but I will never forget counting my deaths after he tortured me. I believe my count was somewhere around 13, though my memories are hazy and pain filled. I am ashamed to admit I begged the Pits for an end. To let me die so I did not have to go through it all again. Maybe it listened? Maybe that is why I am here. I do not regret that I am away from the League. I likely will not have survived going back. I do regret that I do not have you here. I feel you like a hole in my heart, a missing piece."

"Sam, Tuck and I went to the Nasty Burger again today. I really think you would like it, they have amazing veggie burgers! I know you never really liked the meat dishes served to us in the League. I feel you would enjoy the veggitarian life style. Maybe you and Sam would bond over it."

"Mom and Dad are so close to finishing the portal! I have checked and rechecked all of their calculations and I really think this is it this time!"

"...I think I am dead. Or. Dead adjacent? I know what death feels like, she and I are intimately acquainted. I died, but I still breath. The portal opened up on top of me when the Fentons left the lab in despair. I don't know who to tell. I cannot let Jack and Maddie find out, who knows what they would do to me? The accident has left me with meta-like abilities that I have no control over as of yet. ...I don't trust that they care for me enough not to try experimenting on me should they find out."

"I seem to be following in Father's footsteps. I have become a vigilante. Is this irony? All the blood on my hands and now I use those same hands to protect those both living and dead."

"Progress on mapping the Infinite Realms is slower than I would like. There is a system, but the system is nonsensical. Some doors have lead to other dimensions but I have not found ours yet. I hope I find you soon."

"The Fentons are becoming more adept at this ghost hunting business. I do not want to admit that this scares me."

"They have partnered with the GIW. I didn't think they ever would, but their hatred of my other half is stronger than their hatred for government control. I am no longer safe here."

[ilovenatasharomanoff2-0]

Hey, can I request an intersex Nat where she accidentally got R pregnant? And then she decided to hide the baby from Nat because she didn't want to burden Natasha or something (idk, you can change the reason), and then 5 years later, Nat was shocked to find R with a child. She did a computation and some research to know that it was her child too! Fluffy ending, please? Sorry for rambling, I just love single mother AUs rn and idk why?? Thank youuu!!

It's never over.

Warnings: y/s/n (your son's name), unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), fingering, praise kink

Pairings: Intersex Natasha x fem reader

Word count: 2.5k

A/n: It has actually been a hot minute since I posted. I'm sorry, but I'm ready for this writing grind to return. This fic is my apology. I'm getting to it if I didn't get to your request. Trust me, I've seen it and probably already started writing it.

"Fuck baby, I don't have a condom," Natasha tells you while hurriedly taking off her shirt.

You moaned quietly and muttered, "It's fine." Your hands go to Natasha's sweatpants to pull them down. "Just pull out, okay?"

Natasha lets out a low groan in reply to you, and her hands promptly find their way to your bra. In one swift mention, your bra was unclasped and thrown somewhere in the dimly lit bedroom.

Her hand soon came up to your face, tracing your face. Her eyes were glued on you, on how beautiful you were. Her face comes intact with your neck, kissing you slowly. Her lips dragged down and down. Soon, meeting your pelvis. Her head slowly moved back up to look at you. "So pretty baby, love you so much," she muttered. Her fingers traced down your body 'till they got to your clothed cunt. Her middle and index finger glided over your clit, and a soft whine erupted from your mouth.

"Please, Tasha, need you."

"Yeah, baby? I got you, okay?" She murmured out to you. A small kiss was left on your forehead. Natasha's two fingers pulled your panties to the side. Her attention was now on your pussy.

"So wet for me." Her lips curled upwards, forming a proud smirk. She didn't even do anything to you, and she had you dripping.

Her fingers dipped themselves in your hole, and a small gasp left your mouth. You threw your head against the pillow that lay beneath your head.

"Look at me, y/n, how good I'm making you feel." She mutters out to you, immediately drawing her fingers away from your cunt.

"Need your fingers, please." You moan out to her, your head shooting back up to see her in front of you, her two fingers up to her mouth to taste you.

"Taste so fucking good." she sighs out to you. "Need my fingers, baby? How bad do you need them?"

"Really bad, Natasha." Your hips start to buck forward, trying to relieve that ache you had in your core.

Natasha's hand comes to your hips, pushing them back down into the bed. You know you can't do anything about it. She's so much more potent than you. A force of one hand has your hips pinned down.

"Sorr-" Your plead is cut short when you feel her fingers entirely make their way into you. A languid yelp leaves your mouth. Your head shoots back once more.

"Feels good, huh? Bet my cock will feel better, though."

You can't respond back to her, too focused on her fingers that are curling in you. Her fingers pump faster, lewd sounds of your wetness caving the room, echoing every now and then.

Natahsa's free hand moves up to your clit, circling the bud just like she did before.

"So good, Nat, don't stop p-please."

"'M not gonna stop, baby."

As you lay, you feel the muscles in your legs tense up, and your feet shift slightly as your legs come together, creating a subtle but noticeable closure.

"You close y/n?" She whispers in your ear, her body leaning onto you ever so slightly, but enough to feel her hard-on press onto you.

Your voice quivers as you let out a mournful "Mhm." You reach out and grasp her shoulder, fingers digging into her skin. The pressure of your grip is tight, as if you're trying to hold on to something slipping away.

As you near your high, Natasha pulls her fingers out of you. A high-pitched sob leaves your mouth. "N-no, Natasha."

"Shh, it's okay, my love. I gonna make you feel so much better." She mumbles out to you. Her body moves off of you and onto her knees. The tent in her boxers is more noticeable than it was before. Your gaze is fixated on the intricate network of veins coursing down her pelvis, descending further and further out of sight.

She let out a low groan as she moved her boxers down, sliding them off and tossing them somewhere in the room. Her cock sprung out of the piece of clothing, precum leaked from her tip.

"So fucking hard for you, baby, I just want to feel your pussy so bad."

A shattered breath left your mouth as you heard Natahsa's explicit words. Her hand slowly moved up and down on her cock, lowering her head down to use her spit as lube.

She slowly inched her hips closer to you, grabbing ahold of her hard cock. Her tip rubbed in between your folds, teasing for a few more minutes.

"Already feel so good." She sputters, her tip finally coming down to your hole. She takes her time easing into you, her eyes looking at how your pussy takes in all of her cock.

Once Natasha had bottomed out in you, she stilled her hips, giving you time to adjust to her length. "Tell me when I can move, baby, okay?" She softly tells you.

After a few minutes of waiting, you finally adjusted to her.

"O-okay, I'm ready, Nat."

Natasha needs to hear no more, her hips thrusting rhythmically.

"Th-that feels good, Tasha." Your breathing is labored. You can feel the deliberate slowness and shallowness of Natasha's thrusts, as though she is deliberately holding back from unleashing her full power upon you. It's as though she is carefully testing your limits, teasing you with the promise of what could come if she let go.

"Can I do this?" She asks, her eyes filled with anticipation. Her back straightens, and her hands move ever so sneakily, reaching out to grab your thighs.

The silence in the room was palpable, broken only by the sound of a small head slowly nodding.

Her hands pushed your thighs back for a better angle. Her thrusting resumes and her cock hits new depths. Loud moans left your mouth as Natasha's hips grew in speed, her cock aimlessly hitting the spot that you love.

The way you clenched around her had her in a trance. The grip she had on your thighs tightened. A grunt came out of her mouth, and she snapped her hips faster into you. Your hands were trying to search for a place for stability.

"So fucking tight and warm, y/n. C-could be in you forever." She moans out to you.

"Fuck, I'm close, nat." a whine left your mouth as you closed your eyes and focused on all of the pleasure.

"Let me cum inside y/n, please."

You quickly nodded, trying to hide the knot that was forming in your stomach. The overwhelming feeling of unease made it hard to process anything else.

"Gonna cum!"

"Comon, do it, my love, cum for me." She reassures you. You can tell she's close to releasing by how her hips start to, for their own pace, a rhythm. With a few more strong thrusts from Natasha's hips, your orgasm came crashing down. Your back arched off of the bed as you felt Natasha shoot her load into you.

She lays down on top of you and catches her breath. She quickly rolls off of you and moves herself next to you on the suitable bed. Her side is slightly turned so she can look at your face.

"Did so good for me y/n." You feel her soft breath on your face as she leans in and gently presses her lips to your forehead, letting out a soft murmur.

You couldn't help but smile as you turned to face Natasha. She slowly lifted herself off you, her eyes fixed on yours as if trying to decipher your thoughts.

After standing up, she gracefully slips back into her boxers, her every move exuding confidence and poise. She walks into your bathroom with purpose, her eyes scanning the room until she spots a towel, which she swiftly grabs and wets under the tap. She returns to you, her gaze unwavering, and gently cleans you up with the damp towel, her soothing and reassuring touch.

As you lay on your bed, you hear a soft call of "Y/nnn." Turning your head, you see her standing there, a smile forming as she catches your gaze. Closing your eyes, you feel her hands gently cleaning you up, making you feel refreshed and cared for. Soon after, she hops onto the bed and wraps her arms around you from behind, holding you close in a warm embrace. It's a moment of comfort and intimacy that makes you feel safe and loved.

As you were lost in thought, you were suddenly jolted back to reality by boisterous laughter. You quickly checked your phone to see a message, only to find your son standing before you with a half-eaten Rice Krispie treat in his hand.

"Hey, buddy!" You bellowed out to him. His face lit up as he heard you talking to him.

He looks up at you with a beaming smile and says, "Hi, mama!" His little hands reach up toward you despite your close proximity, signaling his desire to be held in your embrace.

You bend down slightly to pick him up, even more laughter erupting from his tiny body. You quickly pick up the phone you put on the counter to take a picture of y/s/n. Your eyes get lost in the notification on your screen. You quickly forget about it and take a picture of the both of you in your matching Patagonia jackets, hoping you could post it to your Instagram later.

As you set him down on the ground, you turn to him and ask, "Would you like to go get some ice cream?" With a quick nod, he excitedly runs towards the door, nearly stumbling over the scattered toys that litter the floor. You can't help but chuckle at the sight as you make your way over to the accent table where your car keys are displayed.

As you two drove, the car was filled with the loud beats of y/s/n's favorite YouTube music, his laughter growing increasingly raucous as he found something particularly amusing. After a few minutes, we arrived at the ice cream shop, but getting y/s/n out of his seatbelt proved difficult due to all the kicking and squirming.

As you both stepped out of the car, you noticed the small ice cream shop across the street. You helped him out of the car and walked towards the shop. As you entered the tiny shop, the aroma of freshly made waffle cones filled your nostrils. The colorful display of ice cream flavors made your little companion's eyes widen with excitement. He carefully picked out his favorite flavor and waited patiently for you to pay. As you handed over the money, his tiny head looked up at you with gratitude and back at his ice cream, watching it drip from the cone onto his hand. The sound of his happy slurping filled the air as you both savored the moment.

Walking around the ice cream, you turn to your son and say, "Come on, let's find a table." You take his hand and navigate the large crowd, scanning for an available booth. Suddenly, the sound of the front door opening catches your attention. You freeze when you see the girl who just walked in. She looks familiar, like someone you used to know. She stands tall with a confident posture and a mess of long red hair pulled back into a loose ponytail. A few strands fall across her face, framing her sharp features. Dressed in a sleek compression shirt and shorts, she just came from the gym.

As you both stand in the ice cream shop, your eyes meet with a woman scanning the room. Suddenly, her gaze locks onto yours, and you feel a jolt of electricity pass between you. Her eyes slowly drift down to the child standing next to you, and she can't help but notice the resemblance between them. You're unsure what to do, but you feel frozen in place as you stare at each other. When your child tugs at your pants, reminding you that his ice cream is melting, you snap out of your trance and slowly start to move away.

"Mommy, ice cream!" he says loud enough for the girl you know to hear you.

"O-okay, y/s/n, follow me." You quickly find a table. As soon as you sit down, your son is on his tablet, watching PBS Kids to entertain him. And that's when you finally remember it was Natasha. She has changed a lot since you saw her 4 years ago.

Before you can get together to talk to her, she's already at your table. Your son quickly looks up at her and looks back down; his attention is on the ice cream and TV show.

"Y/n?" She whispered out to you. Her voice sounded the same, just as you remembered.

"Hi Natasha, I know that thi-"

"You have a kid now?" Her voice is a little shaky now; if you have to be honest, you feel bad for her. And now that you're face to face with her you start to regret your actions.

You stayed silent for a minute trying to find the right response to tell Natasha.

"Why didn't you tell me y/n? I've waited so long for you."

"I...I don't know Natasha." Our hands touch your face, rubbing it harshly, trying to process what was happening.

"Is he mine, Y/n?" You could tell her nervousness, her breath quickening as she awaited your response. The only thing you could do was nod your head up and down.

"have a seat, Nat." She hesitates momentarily before slowly taking a seat, her mind racing with mixed emotions. The air around you is tense as you wait for her to speak.

"You know I wanted to tell you."

"Why didn't you then? I was never able to get over you, y/n."

"I guess I...I guess I was too scared, Natasha. I didn't want you to ghost me, and I felt like a burden like you wouldn't want to be with me anymore." You looked down at the table, trying to hide your watering eyes from Natasha.

You feel her body shifting gently as she moves closer to you. Her arm gracefully wraps itself around your back and pulls you in closer. You respond to her embrace, feeling your entire body pressing against hers with a sense of comfort and warmth.

"I don't think you are a burden. I would've been so happy if you told me we would have a kid together. You know that I will always love you."

You do a slow nod into her chest. Natasha's face turns every once in a while, looking at the toddler across from her.

"What's his name?"

"Y/s/n. It made me think of you when I first gave birth to him."

Natasha's delicate fingers gently touch your chin, lifting your face towards hers. As you meet her gaze, a radiant smile spreads across her lips, illuminating her face with a warm glow.

"Do you wanna come back home with me, Nat?" you whisper just loud enough for her to hear.

"Yeah, actually. I want to catch up with you and my son."

You find yourself unable to do anything but return the smile of the person in front of you. As you gaze into her eyes, a flood of memories from your past together comes rushing back. You feel a sense of excitement and anticipation for the new chapter that is about to unfold in your life.

[izzabela]

Can I request bi han x fem reader.

Reader is sent on a mission in Russia and bi han misses her,sektor tells him to get a phone so it'll be easy to communicate and y/n introduces him to phone sex and they have phone sex.

New Things - Bi Han x fem!reader

in which you introduce Bi Han to something new while away on a mission

a/n: Bi Han with a phone is a crazy idea- i like it

ship[s]: bi han x fem!reader

warning(s): MDNI, porn with semi-plot, phone sex, f!reader = f!genitalia, masturbation, dirty talk, degradation, post-kanon story

"He- Hel- Hello? Bi Han?" you voice called, breaking slightly over the phone.

Bi Han put the device close to his ear, your voice finally patching through his phone. He smiles, the only witnesses of this soft act being the walls of his bedroom. He coughs before answering you.

"I can hear you, darling," he responds. "How do you find Russia? Have you eaten yet? Is the mission going well?"

You chuckle at the onslaught of questions, "Cold, but not as cold as home, yes I ate already, and the mission is going decent."

Bi Han sighs, "Good, I am glad you are alright."

Bi Han originally didn't have a phone, hell he was opposed to such devices. He caved after you were gone for a mission a couple months back, and the letter he wrote you was intercepted by the enemy. It was also Sektor's idea, he even accompanied Bi Han in choosing one.

Now, here he was, talking to you over the phone while you were oceans away. Elder gods, what a sight to behold, the grandmaster using technology.

"And you, my dear, is there anything to note back home?" you ask. Bi Han groans as he relays the struggles you were missing out on.

From setbacks to the coding of the cyber-ninjas, to even more dreadful losses with this brotherly war, Bi Han was having a hard time dealing with these setbacks. It was uncharacteristic of him, since he's usually more calculated and put together.

"You sound stressed, my dear," you mention, twirling your hair as get in the bed of the hotel you were staying in. You hear Bi Han sigh over your end of the phone.

"You are greatly missed here, none more so than by me," Bi Han says softly, and you coo at the vulnerability he displayed.

"I also wish I were home," you respond solemnly. It's quiet over the line, the light breathing filling the silence.

That is, until a light bulb is lit in your mind. It's a little risky, but it isn't entirely a bad thing. Just to blow off some steam.

"Darling, would you like to relax?" you ask, but Bi Han is perplexed as he answers you.

"I am unwinding just fine with you on the phone."

You tut him, clicking your tongue as you clarify yourself. Apparently, subtly in words was not his strongest trait.

"Would you like try phone sex?" you blurt out. It's quiet on your end, Bi Han not saying a thing for a couple of beats.

"...What exactly is that?" he asks, his voice sounding lost and confused. You then explain that it would just be them on the phone, whispering dirty things about themselves as they touched themselves rather inappropriately.

TLDR, a horny way to unwind the stress of missing each other.

"I see," is all Bi Han says. "I do not know how to start, though."

You chuckle, "Remaining ever so honest, grandmaster. Do not be worried, though, I can lead us."

You strip down into nothing, putting your phone on speaker as you lay comfortably in your bed. Bi Han still remains in his sleepwear, but he can see that his member is growing erect as the minutes pass.

"For starters, it must feel rather lonely in bed without me," you begin, your voice a little breathy. Bi Han sighs, palming his growing erection as he responds.

"It is, it pains me that you are so far. I cannot hold nor touch you." Bi Han sets his phone down after indulging you, on speaker mode as well so he has... a better range of motion.

"I have only my thoughts to keep me company," you admit, slowly rolling your breasts in your hands.

"Do tell me what you think about when I am not present," Bi Han eggs you with a teasing voice.

"I, uh," you stutter. "I think of how you tease nipples. Your fingers always squeeze them the way I like." Bi Han groans a bit.

"Touch them as I do, then," he tells you, palming his rock-hard dick. "To let you know, I miss the way you stroke me, my dear."

Bi Han gave up on his pants and boxers. His dick was hard and free from its fabric prison, and he was going in constant strokes to mimic the way you did. Bi Han grunts as he touches himself, pumping his dick in his fist as he heard your breath over the phone.

If the wetness between your legs were relayed to a leaky pipe, you were practically bursting at this point. You moan at the though of his hand pumping his cock, trying to emulate your touch. It filled you with pride knowing you left such an impression on him.

You reach down in between your legs, rubbing the wet folds as you imagine your fingers as Bi Han's length. You bite your lip to stifle a moan, but it slips through and Bi Han catches your poor attempt of hiding your voice.

"Do not be shy, my darling," Bi Han says breathlessly. "Let me hear you. Touching yourself as you think of me, in and out of your tightness."

Bi Han was getting into it now. Still keeping his constant strokes, he imagines your body on top of him. Visages of your perky nips in his face, your voice bouncing off the walls of the shared room. He can imagine the marks on his back, a great side effect on how well he dicks you down.

For you, you stuck a finger in your wet cunt. Just like Bi Han, you pump the digit in and out of you at a good speed. It hits your good spot perfectly, and the moans you had been so desperate to hide come through and enter Bi Han's ear. He's smirking, and he pumps a little faster.

"Can you hear that? Though you are so far, you still manage to please me," Bi Han's voice is sultry and deep, praising you a job well done (so far).

"Are you this degenerate when you are away?" Bi Han's tone shifts, and it shocks you a little bit. "Touching yourself, desperate to relieve yourself- disgusting."

By the elder gods, he was really leaning into this phone sex business. As much as you want to deny it, you can't help but moan and agree with his degradation of you. Yes, you missed him. Yes, you touched yourself on those occasions where the longing was too much.

You stop yourself and add another finger inside yourself, curling it slightly to hit your g-spot even better. You moan louder, and Bi Han takes it as a sign to go faster in his fist. He's grunting a little louder, and through your ecstasy you can hear a couple of shaky exhales of his breath.

"By the gods, I can just imagine it," Bi Han says breathlessly. "Your fingers won't be enough, not when I have marked you, molded you... made you mine."

You gasp at how dirty his words have become. Gods, he was immersed, and your bodily response was to get even more wet. Practically soaking the sheets underneath you, you respond to the claims Bi Han was acclaiming.

"Yes grandmaster! You've molded me so well- I am yours wholly!"

As you keep pumping yourself, your hand that was previously on your tit is on your pleasuring yourself two-fold as you focus on reaching your high. Bi Han is huffing and puffing now, his hand going up and down as he also chases his peak.

"Very good. Keep the thought of my length as you come," Bi Han says. "Your warmth is all I can think about- I even squeeze my fist to think of how you squeeze around me."

The mention of it makes you squeeze around your fingers, and that was the last sensory necessity for you to zone in on cumming. The feeling of your fingers rubbing your clit, your other fingers going in and out of your tight cunt, and the gentle squeeze to give you more friction, it's sending you over the edge.

Bi Han has a gentle tightness around his cock. He's trying to imagine you squeezing around him, and it works as he can feel his high coming. The thoughts of your body bouncing up and down his cock, your moans ringing in his ears, and the little squelches he can hear from the speaker, send Bi Han into overdrive.

"B-Bi Han!" you cry out. "I- oh gods, I'm close!" Bi Han just grunts in response, muttering under his breath as he's about to peak.

"Bi Han!" you cry out, literally squeaking as your legs twitch and shake as your body begins to relax from your climax. You're breathless, hands damp with your slick, and your body dripping with sweat.

Bi Han also climaxes, calling your name as strings of translucent white coming out. They land on his lower stomach and thighs. His chest heaves up and down, yearning for air as he comes down from his high. He's sticky with sweat, extra sticky near his penile area, and his hand has a bit of his own slickness too.

He reaches for a tissue on his nightstand, and you do the same on the other side of the world. Over the phone, Bi Han can hear you shift on the bed, putting your clothes on and shuffling around the room to clean up. Bi Han is wrapping up his own clean-up operations, putting his clothes on before settling into bed.

"Bi Han darling?" you call for him through the phone. "Are you there?"

Bi Han grabs his phone, "Yes I am." It's a bit quiet before he speaks again. "Did you enjoy?"

You laugh heartily, "Of course! Who knew you were really good at this, my darling~" you drag out the "ing" sound, and he chuckles at your antics.

"Thank you for introducing this to me," he says, calling your name softly. Your face warms, and you can't tell if it's from the warmth of your phone.

"You're welcome, Bi Han. Perhaps we can do this again when I have more time," you offer.

"Finish up the mission, and we won't need to do this over the phone." That's all Bi Han says before he drops an "I love you" and hangs up.

The call drops, and you sleep with motivation to come home.

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

phone sex is... odd, but i did finish it. i hope you liked it anon!

still finishing up all my reqs, let's see if i can do it before school starts for me

see yall in the next fic!

[lostinwildflowers]

To Befriend A Dragon

Shoto Todoroki x Reader

Summary: Shoto will always deny his father's wishes to find the rarest Mystery Class dragon out there. You're his long-time best friend, and you happen to have a dragon. Things grow intense as your dragon grows more and more hostile toward your friend.

Word Count: 7.3K (...oopsie)

Warnings: Best friends to lovers, idiots to lovers, fluff, mutual pining, smidge of angst if you look, jealous dragon(think Maximus and Flynn Rider), erm... Enji Todoroki mentioned, like 2 cuss words, and a small cut/blood mention

A/N: Hello my lovelies, I have emerged from my cave to finish this Shoto x HTTYD fic! I have been super excited about this one for a long time(like, April of 2023), and I really do love the plot. Be sure to give me your feedback, and please, enjoy!-Birch<3

Useful Info:

Scauldron

Inspo for wet Shoto(This isn't graphic, this is just a wet Shoto XD)

Part i. Romantic Flight- Katsuki Bakugou x Reader

Part ii. Dragon Island- Eijiro Kirishima x Reader

"Y/n!" the call came. It was light, not angry; soft, and yet still somehow loud enough to hear over the crashing of waves on the old wooden fishing docks.

"Y/n?" the call came again, less sure than the first time. It sounded like an ancient hymn, floating on the ocean's fine mist, disappearing just as soon as it arrived.

"Y/n, there you are," this time the voice was just behind you. It was the voice of someone you could spend your entire life listening to. Deep and rich at the same time, tranquil but firm in its timbre.

Your gaze was fixed on the moving waters in front of you, (colored) orbs scoping out every cresting wave, waiting. The gentle touch of a hand on your shoulder draws your attention away from the sea for a split second, long enough to see who was looking for your attention.

Unnaturally white hair. Unusually bright red hair. The locks were split down the center of his head, messy around his eyes, but delicate braids danced around the nape of his neck. One eye was a deep stormy grey, the other a piercing icy blue.

His smile was as warm as the summer rain that fell in the late morning. His posture was straight yet relaxed, just as he was trained. His presence and demeanor were kind, yet stoic.

Shoto Todoroki. Your long-time best friend.

-

It all started way back. Even further than the village could remember. Your cradles after birth were almost always next to each other growing up. The two of you spent almost every waking moment together as toddlers, mainly being raised by the village elders.

The pair of you spent hours playing on the light, sandy beach looking for unique shells or conches. Hiking through the woods to find interesting colored stones and lush mosses to build forts outside of your houses became an every-summer activity.

You even snuck out to watch the young vikings train their dragons in the middle of the night with the young Todoroki boy. When the flames stopped dancing in the sky, you both would gaze up at the stars, wondering what your lives would hold.

Yes, you had other friends as well, but none of them understood you as deeply as the two-tone-haired boy who you spent every day with. You were the finest of friends, no one could separate you two.

The one thing that could twist your whole relationship with the Todokori boy was the fact that he was the chieftain's son. The Todoroki Tribe was known for finding and taming the rarest mystery class dragons, the most dangerous of dragons.

Shoto's oldest brother had managed to find and tame a gnarly male Bone Knapper, while his sister gentled a Light Fury while traveling. Even Shoto's other brother trained a Changewing that had tried attacking the village.

But Shoto didn't have a dragon. He didn't want a dragon. He loathed his father for forcing such pressure on him, to find the rarest dragon yet and force it to respect him. Shoto didn't ask to be raised as the next leader of his village.

All he ever wanted was a normal life with you, his best friend.

But while Shoto didn't have his own dragon, which was an ongoing argument he had with his father, you did. Your family loved the sea, building a home on the water's edge so you could grow up right next to its murky depths. When you came of age, it was only fitting that a dragon of the water became your own.

When you were just eleven years old, a Scauldron drakaina laid her clutch of eggs on the beach just down the shoreline from your house. She was a gorgeous turquoise-scaled dragon, and her eggs reflected her light bluish-green colors.

You watched her tend to her eggs for several weeks, even going as far as to tend to her needs. You didn't mind making sure she had enough food, you were right next to the sea. You checked to make sure the eggs were warm enough and in a safe location where they wouldn't get crushed when she left to hunt.

When her clutch finally did hatch, one of them instantly chose you. Storm. He was born a deep, steel grey color when he hatched, and the color of his scales reminded you of a summer thunderstorm.

Over time, Storm grew into a large and strong Scauldron, with thick muscle that grew from his swimming in the ocean and eventual flights with you on his back.

As you grew older, so did Storm, the two of you forming a strong connection and bond as a dragon and rider. From the start, he was always a... well, opinionated dragon.

Yet, through it all, Shoto was nothing of supportive of you and your dragon, knowing that his father would never let him have a common dragon such as yours.

Years passed as you and Storm bonded and grew up, and Shoto continued to spend time with you. He would be there to watch you ride Storm, help you teach him a new trick, or even go fishing for the dragon.

Shoto would spend as much time with you as he could to escape his lessons, being the chieftain's son. Holding a bag of fish for you, helping you fit the saddle to his body, anything he could do to be near you. You and Storm were his escape.

-

"Y/n, there you are," the voice behind you rings out, and a slow glance over your right shoulder allows you to see Shoto standing still behind you, a small leather bag slung over his shoulder.

"Hey, Sho," you say with a smile as you turn to face your best friend. "Did you bring lunch again?" you ask cheekily, trying to peak into the leather satchel on his shoulder.

Shoto's lip curls into what you can call a smirk. To the outside view, there was no change to the young man's face. A scoff falls from his lips as he moves to sit beside you on the edge of the wet docks, "You could call it that. What were you looking at? You seem kind of distracted, Y/n/n."

And distracted you were. You see, years of friendship with the youngest Todoroki boy did not leave you blind. He transformed from a boy into a teen into a man. His voice deepened, his shoulders broadened, and girls flocked to his door in hopes of catching his attention.

Shoto became evidently attractive, and while you tried to brush it off, he was a deadly combination. Sweet, maybe a little daft, and breathtakingly handsome.

A hand on your thigh catches your attention, and you jump at the warm touch, and you whip around to look Shoto in the eyes. There was concern on his angled features, a gentle furrow to his brow at the unusual scatter-brainedness of your actions.

"Are you alright?" he asks again, his low voice just barely more than a whisper as his bi-colored eyes bore deep into your own (colored) ones.

His grey eye reminded you of the scales on Storm's back. Dark, firm, unwavering. His blue eye reminded you of the sea. Piercing, knowing, deadly.

The intensity of his eyes paired with the concerned look on his face was enough for you to shake off your thoughts, placing your hand over his own. Your fingers graze his, and you take the push to thread them through his long digits.

"Just fine, Sho, I was thinking about Storm. I haven't seen him for a while since he went out hunting," is what you manage to croak out.

Shoto squints at you, uncertainty lacing his gaze. "You're lying," he states blankly as if it's a matter-of-fact statement. You huff at him in an almost-offended disbelief, turning to face the clouded blue water in front of you.

"No, I'm not," you grumble out, "I haven't seen Storm in almost two days, he usually comes back faster than that. I'm worried about him."

Shoto's grip on your thigh tightens a little bit as he squeezes the flesh there and replies, "I don't doubt that, Y/n. I think you're lying about being okay. You've been like this for a while now. What's going on with you?"

Deep down, Shoto was afraid you had found someone, or that your parents had found a nice young viking for you to get married to and you wouldn't see him anymore. You had been starting to pull away, and it scared him to death.

In reality, you were scared to death because you had just started to realize why your hands got shaky around Shoto. You had started to realize why his compliments made your cheeks burn and your voice weaken.

You liked him. But he was your best friend, you couldn't like him. He couldn't possibly like you like that... right?

You stay silent, so Shoto takes a moment to continue, "Y/n/n, I have spent every day of my life with you, I can tell when something is wrong." You regain eye contact with him, your lips parting as your thoughts raced through your head.

You could feel your heart pounding harder and harder with every second, the butterflies building and swelling in your stomach. The words were just on the tip of your tongue-

A roar splits and cracks the air open, an enormous wave of seawater heading directly for you and Shoto. You find the head of the dragon in an instant, and you let out a yell as the icy water coats you and the boy sitting next to you.

Storm lets out another roar, diving back into the water and splashing his tail in your direction, the water smacking an already drenched and shocked Shoto in the side furthest from you.

"What the hell, Storm!?" you screech as your dragon dove back into the depths of the water, peeking his head up above the surface once he swam far enough away he couldn't get scolded by you.

There's one important part about your dragon- he hates Shoto.

-

From the day Storm hatched, he disliked the two-toned head of the youngest Todoroki boy. Shoto never did anything to make the Scauldron hate him, but the steel-colored dragon always had a bone to pick with your best friend.

As a young hatchling, Storm had a tendency to nip at people who weren't you. It didn't matter if they had food or not, he was always a little tense around others. When you introduced Shoto to Storm, your dragon took it upon himself to launch at your best friend.

He had latched onto Shoto's boot, his razor-sharp teeth cutting through the new leather, and ripping it right off of his foot. Shoto had been knocked to the ground, the air pulled from his lungs.

You had immediately scolded Storm, putting him in a large cage in the corner of your room while you tended to Shoto. His sock had been shredded from Storm's teeth, but otherwise, he was left unharmed.

That first incident with Storm should have been Shoto's first clue that things wouldn't be smooth sailing anytime he tried to be with you.

When the two of you were older and allowed to roam freely, you often took hiking trips into the woods. You both still had the hearts of children, but were more competent and aware of your surroundings.

Plus, you had a dragon.

But, Storm still found a hatred for the Todoroki boy, tripping him when the paths in the woods got rocky. Shoto ended up with several rolled ankles, to which he would tell his father he was training and got hurt.

Your Scauldron would knock Shoto into the water when you would haul in the fishing nets at the end of the day. The air would have cooled off, leaving you chilled if you got wet.

Storm learned that you and Shoto hated it whenever Shoto got soaked. So he did it more and more often.

Shoto somehow put up with it. Ever patient, ever forgiving, Shoto never once tried to put up a fight against Storm or got truly angry with him. He had his moments where he wanted to get the dragon back, but he knew you would be angry with him.

Shoto had such a care for you that he couldn't take out his frustrations on your dragon, no matter how much torture he was put through.

It drove Shoto insane from the inside, but he could never show that to you. Storm was your dragon, and you loved him, and Storm loved you. Shoto knew there was no way he could get between you and your dragon, so he learned to live with it.

Shoto did try to befriend Storm, but he was unsuccessful every time. He would bring the large dragon an extra fish he caught when he dropped by your house. You showed the red and white-haired teen where to scratch the dragon's chin the way he liked.

The boy even went as far as to change Storm's bedding in his nesting stall. None of it worked. So, Shoto did his best to be kind to the dragon while not making it an apparent issue to you.

-

In an instant, your clothes were clinging to your frame, the iciness of the water chilling you to the bone. You were in shock, first at the surprise of being drenched in cold, salty seawater, but also at the fact that Storm went out of his way to be mean to Shoto.

Your mouth had dropped in surprise, the tang of salt clinging to your lips as you brushed a sopping piece of hair out of your eyes. You turned to look at Shoto, who was in a similar state as you.

His pink lips were parted open, water streaming down his face and dripping off at the edge of his sharp jaw. Shoto's hands clenched at his sides, instinctively trying to shy away from the dragon who sprayed the water in the first place.

"Sh-Shoto, are you alright?" you manage to stumble out, your teeth clacking together, out of your control. He turned to look at you, shock also evident on his features. He just shook his head once, water droplets spraying everywhere, much like a wet dog.

It took him a second to respond, but he managed to murmur, "Yeah, yeah, I think I'm good. I wasn't expecting that at all."

Once Shoto locked eyes on your drenched figure, he swallowed thickly. Every ounce of your clothing was clinging tightly to your body, outlining every curve and dip.

While you noticed the way Shoto grew up, he also noticed how you changed. He saw how maybe your height didn't change that much, but he saw your hips widen and chest fill out.

Shoto saw the way your hair grew longer and your cheeks became less round. He saw the way your lips would catch between your teeth when you were concentrated and the way your eyelashes fluttered when you laughed.

And now, a developed woman with clothes hugging your every curve, Shoto did his best to fight to pink that was rising to his cheeks at his unholy thoughts.

He had to stop those thoughts from swirling around in his mind. You are his best friend, for Odin's sake! He can't be thinking about you like a lover.

Shaking his head less aggressively again to clear his thoughts, he gently urges, "Let's get you warmed up." He pulls his hands from where they were clutching at his sides and offers one to you. You shudder as a chill washes over you, slowly grabbing his outreached hand.

As Shoto pulls the two of you into a standing position, you glance back into the water to see Storm's figure had disappeared. A lump forms in your throat at the cruelness of your dragon for no apparent reason.

Shoto releases your hand, instead, bringing it up to your shoulder. He lightly rubs at it, trying to get your attention, "Come on, grab your things." You turn back toward him and nod shakily, reaching down to grab your own small pack.

How could Storm do that? I know he and Shoto haven't always gotten along, but this is cruel, even for him.

While you got lost in your thoughts, walking up the length of the pier, you missed Shoto falling into step behind you. You didn't even notice him stalling, pulling his drenched shirt off to wring it out over the shore.

Your footstep creaking on a slippery wooden board makes you notice that it's quiet behind you, save for the crashing of waves. You look over your shoulder to see Shoto's back facing you.

Taut, lean muscle laced his back, the skin pale as porcelain, but intricate like a marble statue. Only then do your eyes catch a glimpse of his wet shirt in his hands, drops of water falling from it as his hands worked over the fabric.

Your eyes follow his back to his shoulders, pausing over the bulge in his bicep. He must have really started training hard, the thought races through your head.

Your (colored) gaze flicks up to find Shoto's piercing one already latched onto you.

Shit. He so just caught you staring.

"Sh-Shoto, what are you doing?!" you yelp out as you spin around as fast as you can. The slippery board under your foot gives way as heat rushes to your cheeks at the sight of your best friend undressing.

A million thoughts are racing through your mind as your knee slams into the wet dock, a cry falling from your lips. You don't hear his response as pain takes over as your main concern.

You hear a curse fall from Shoto's lips as he tosses his wet shirt over his shoulder, carefully making his way over to you. His hands, now cooled from the water, reach out to you as he replies innocently to your question, "My shirt was wet, I was trying to remove some of the water out of it."

He then offers you his hand, a kind look on his face. Ever the gentleman, you think to yourself as the pain in your knee radiates and then slowly dissipates away.

You scoffed internally as he pulled you to your feet, How many times have I seen him without a shirt on, and here I am making a big deal out of it?

A moment passes and the touch of his other hand on your shoulder makes you about jump out of your skin. Distracted (colored) eyes lock onto his own bi-colored ones, and you feel like a blubbering mess as your eyes dart between the grey and blue colors, and the toned, naked, chest in front of you.

Once again that day, Shoto has a look of concern on his face as he asks, "Are you alright, Y/n? This isn't all that strange, remember? Your dragon has hated me as long as I remember."

Just as you open your mouth to answer him, a large wave hits the dock again, and a split second later, you feel Shoto being ripped away from you and knocked into the water off the side of the pier. You catch sight of Storm emerging from the ocean, a scowl coming across your face as your lips part in anger.

A yell rips itself from your already opened mouth, and you lunge forward as Shoto is swept away in the current below the docks. His wet shirt landed on the pier next to your feet, thankfully, but that wasn't your main worry.

You were already nervous about it being so cool and then being drenched, but panic overtakes you as you realize what Shoto was headed straight for.

The fishing nets.

Storm flaps up and onto the shoreline a few yards away, looking proud of himself as water slides off of his deep grey scales. You turn toward the dragon, tears of anger pushing at the edges of your eyes as you scream, "Get out of here, Storm! Go away!"

The large Scauldron huffs out an angered roar, but with a few massive wingbeats, hauls himself into the air and flies toward the village. You don't wait to see him leave, instead turning your attention back to your best friend in the water.

Shoto had resurfaced and was coughing on seawater, his arms and legs caught in the holes of the netting. With his limbs tangled and airways full of water, this could be bad. You don't waste any time after that realization, and you dive into the water, aiming to stay away from the net.

Your limbs ache at the instant coolness of the water, and you gasp as you enter the icy sea. Forcing your arms and legs into motion, you aim toward Shoto as you feel your body slow down.

Limbs flailing to get closer, you call to him, "Shoto, hang out!" In a desperate grab, your fingers latch onto the edge of the fishing net, and you use all of your strength to start pulling it to a depth where you can stand.

You manage to take a deep, gasping breath when your feet feel sand underneath them, and you cry out as you tug on the net. "Are you okay?!" You manage as you pull the net through the shallows, still hearing Shoto coughing up water.

Shoto goes to answer you as you see him start to untangle himself, but all you hear is a "Ye-" before a wave crashes into Shoto's bare back. The force of the water knocks him face-first into the shallows, and you lunge toward him to try to help pull him up.

Fingers grasping for his arm, you tug him back up, hearing him spit out more water, exhausted from fighting the net, the salty water filling his lungs, and the effort of his body to keep him warm for so long.

Your fingers, now throbbing from the cold, fumble as you search your belt, the digits slow and uncoordinated. You grip the blade as tightly as you can once you find it, cutting at the tangled nets.

Shoto manages to sputter out, "Y/n, I- I'm o-okay," coughing and trying to regain his air. You finish tugging the final piece of net away from his feet, the two of you heaving yourselves out of the water.

Worry overtakes you as you regard your best friend, "Shoto, are you alright? Oh, my heavens..." Your eyes lock onto his paled face, white and red hair splattered across his forehead.

You lunge forward, catching his cheeks in your hands as your eyes detect pink water trailing down the side of his face. Shoto brings his hand up to push the hair off of his face, a small grunt leaving his mouth when he comes in contact with a scrape hidden on his forehead.

This scrape was the source of the pink water, and even more worry overcomes you, but not before the thought of how oddly handsome he looked at that moment.

Compared to his usual hair styling, the red and white locks were intertwined with each other. Pushed up off of his forehead into a messy comb-over, your breath was stolen for your lungs.

He looked devilishly handsome. It was a terrible thought to have when you should have been rushing him off to clean up his wound and put warm clothes on.

But he did. He looked so good, you couldn't help the way your mouth parted in shock as you gazed up at him.

Shoto, mistakenly thought your reaction was to the throbbing in his head, which he assumed to be a cut. "Is the cut that bad?" he asks daftly, the hand which had been running through his hair coming up to cover one of your own.

His other hand finds its place on your hip unknowingly, stabilizing his unsteady stance. You blink, your mind still reeling as you process his words, "N-no, it's not that bad. Just, uh, caught me off-guard."

Shoto's heterochromatic eyes fix on you, waiting for you to elaborate. It's quiet for a moment, with your hands on his cheeks, his hand covering your own.

He takes it upon himself to fill the silence, his hand moving to cup your own cheek, brushing a stray piece of wet hair away from your eyes. He takes a shivery breath and starts, "Y/n, I-" "Let's get warmed up," you state at the same time.

A flash of an unreadable emotion washes over Shoto's face, and you internally curse yourself for cutting him off. You open your mouth to ask him what he was going to say, but he beats you to it.

"I was going to say the same thing," he said slowly, dropping his hands from your face and side, taking a step back. You instantly retract your hands to your chest, nodding once as you glance at the ground.

Shoto doesn't say anything as he slightly limps back to the pier, grabbing his drenched satchel and his shirt, which is now soaked again. You bring your arms to wrap around yourself as you stiffly cross the beach, heading to the pier to grab your own small sack.

You move to pass Shoto, aiming for where you had been sitting on the edge of the wooden dock, but an outstretched arm stops you. You look up at him inquisitively until he rotates his palm to face you. His fingers open up, his large hand revealing your small leather sac.

"I figured it would save you the hassle," he murmurs lowly, setting it in your awaiting hands. You give him a small nod in thanks, clearing your throat to say, "We can go get warmed up at my house if you don't want your father to see you like this."

Now it's Shoto's turn to nod, gesturing with his chin, he asks, "Lead the way?" You offer a small smile before ducking your head down, trudging your way up the dock toward you home up the shoreline.

-

It was quiet at your house - it was only you who lived there, after all. You had moved out of your family home once you came of age, but you couldn't bring yourself to leave the shore.

There were still embers burning in the hearth when you pried your door open, Shoto not far behind. The two of you were quiet on the walk to your house, an unspoken tension thick in the air.

You couldn't deny it now. Your dragon was trying to drive a wedge in between you and your best friend.

A sigh falls from your lips as some weight leaves your shoulders upon entering your home. Shoto quietly closes the door behind you as you walk into the living room.

You make your way over to the hearth, trying to keep your teeth chattering to a minimum. Shoto, who was still shirtless, followed close behind.

Your hands wavering and numb from the cold, reached for small logs you had chopped a few days before. They were set off to the side so you could throw them on as needed.

Shivers start racing up and down your body as you fumble with the log, your teeth clacking together unceremoniously. "Let me," his deep voice sounds out, his hands coming into view.

He grabs the log from you, with much less shake than you, and gently tosses it on the fire. Shoto quietly grabs your shoulder, pulling you away from the fire. You willingly let him manhandle you, watching silently as he takes your place, throwing more kindling on the growing smoke, softly blowing to ignite a flame.

"Sh-Sho, y-your head," you stutter out as you catch sight of red leaking down his forehead. With the hair still pushed up out of his eyes, you could see the gash still oozing.

He turns to you, cocking one eyebrow as if to say, What about it? You shift on your feet as you motion shakily to his head, "It's s-still bleeding. We need to get it-t cleaned up. N-no sense in getting dry clothes d-dirty."

You offer him a crooked smile, clenching down on your teeth to stop them from chattering. He stands up and walks over to you, his height looming over you.

"You're cold," he states blankly, noting the blue tint to your lips and the short, shallow breaths you were trying to calm down. But he also knows you won't rest until he's cared for, watching your eyes flit between his and the cut.

Shoto sighs through his nose before whispering, "Alright, work your magic." With a slight roll of his eyes, you drag him toward your table, where you sit him down on a tall stool.

You struggle to take off your vest, which is drenched, but Shoto sits still and watches, his cheeks once again heating up at the way your clothes cling to your body.

You roam around for a few minutes, lighting a lantern to set next to Shoto, gathering a clean bucket of water, some clean towels, and a soft bandage that you could wrap his head with.

The moving around seemed to help warm you up a little, but you were still feeling chills run up and down your spine as you stopped in front of Shoto.

"This may sting a little," you mumble softly, "The seawater probably got dirt in there." It's a bit of an obvious statement, but you didn't know how else to face the tension of Shoto. As long as you've known him, he's been intense.

But he's never been intense like this.

His gaze is sharp and almost narrowed. There is a furrow in his brow that makes you almost nervous, but you know you have no reason to be.

Your own brows knit close together as you regard him, softly urging, "Shoto, is that alright?" His eyes seem to focus on you a little more at that, and he gives you a nod, straightening up a bit on the stool.

You quietly set to work, delicately pushing the hair off of his forehead and dipping a clean towel in the water. As you bring the towel up to his face, you can suddenly hear blood pounding in your ears.

A wave of butterflies washes over you when you realize how intimately close you are to Shoto's face. If he notices your pause, he doesn't say anything.

The towel makes wobbly contact with the edge of the cut, and Shoto draws back with a sharp hiss of pain, his hand reflexively coming up to pull your wrist away from his face.

A startled look comes across your face and you take a step back, trying to pry yourself away from him. Shoto realizes his mistake instantly and rushes, "Y/n/n, I didn't mean to-" "It's fine," you cut him off with a squeak.

Shoto can see the look of hurt on your face, and a part of his heart crumples at the sight. He releases your wrist, but he doesn't let you get away from him. Instead, he grabs you by both hips and parts his legs, allowing you to stand in between his thighs.

"I'm sorry for pulling away, I- I wasn't ready," he says lowly, looking up at you with a sincere look on his face. If you thought your blood was rushing before, now it is roaring in your ears.

You just bite your tongue and give him a small nod of your head, slowly bringing the rag up to clean the edge of his cut again. You feel Shoto tense beneath you with a fast breath, but he transforms his pain from pulling away to a tightened grip on your hip.

His jaw clenches as you work as quick as you can, cleaning his wound before reaching for the soft bandage you had found. Just as you finish securing it around his head, Shoto stops you.

"Do you know why Storm hates me so much?"

The question makes you halt, every part of your body going still. You stare at your best friend, your mind whirring as you wonder where this is coming from.

You shrug and start to dismiss his question, but he stands up, his presence regaining that oddly intense feel. His eyes darken and his voice lowers a notch as he repeats, "Do you know why Storm hates me so much?"

Your mouth falls slack and your mind goes blank as Shoto moves closer and closer to you. As you take one step back, he's already filling the space. Before you know it, he has you backed into a wall, his heterochromatic eyes never once leaving your (colored) ones.

"Sh-Shoto, I don't know what you're talking about," you stutter out, this time, not because of the cold. Your heart is racing, your cheeks are burning, and it's becoming harder and harder to breathe.

A dry laugh falls from Shoto's lips as he rests his arms on either side of your head, trapping you in. "You really don't know?" is all he asks, with no hint of emotion or degradation in his voice.

You shake your head left and then right, feeling an immense amount of pressure on your face. Shoto takes a deep breath to re-center himself before he asks, "Why doesn't Storm hate all of the other guys my age?"

A frown etches itself on your features as you ponder his question. Why didn't Storm hate all of the other guys in the village? Your lips fall open in thought, and you look down as you try to come up with a suitable answer.

Shoto's right hand moves from its place on the wall to cup your jaw, his thumb tucking itself under your chin. He pulls your head up slowly so that you meet his gaze again.

"Why doesn't Storm hate all of the other guys my age? What makes me so different?" he repeats, this time a little more emotion, a little more urgency.

You look at him again, and only one thought comes to mind. I can't. I can't say it's that. I don't even know if that is the reason.

"I don't know, Shoto," you start to whisper, but he cuts you off, "You're lying to me," and this time his voice is thick. You scan his face for emotion, and you finally start to see his walls caving.

His grey and blue eyes are beginning to line with tears as he repeats again, "What makes me so terrible that he treats me this way? Why am I his only target?"

Shoto shuffles, caging you in closer and closer until you have no other option than to answer him. Your mouth parts, your skin burning where his large hand has cupped your jaw, lips loose from the way your best friend is falling apart in front of you.

But he's not really your best friend, is he?

You go to talk, but there is even more urgency when he almost growls, "What did I do to him?! What did I do to you?!" As he talks, his grip on you gets tighter and tighter, and you notice tears starting to fall from his eyes.

Your eyes snap shut as you burst out, "You made me fall in love with you!" A rush of butterflies floods your stomach and you feel like you're about to throw up.

A moment passes and you wait to feel Shoto pull away, you wait for him to pull his hand away from your face and ask you what the hell you were talking about.

But instead, you hear him whisper, "Open your eyes." You tighten them and shake your head once, "I- I can't." You feel him shuffle and his grip on your face loosens, repositioning his hand to brush that wet, stray piece of hair away from your face.

"Y/n, open your eyes, please," he requests, his touch softening and his presence becoming less intense, "Look at me when you tell me you love me, so that I can say it back."

His statement has your eyes opening from where they were scrunched shut, and they are wide as they gaze up at him. Shoto has a smile on his face, tearstains running down his cheeks.

"Shoto, you-" "You made me fall in love with you, too," he murmurs, a soft huff of a laugh accompanying his words. A smile breaks out on your face as you lean into him, your hands coming up gently to brush the tears off of his delicate cheekbones.

Shoto leans into your touch as he explains, "From the moment Storm saw me, he has seen me as a threat. Dragons are much more emotionally intelligent than they let on. He always has known that I-"

And then his voice catches in his throat. Your heart swells at the emotion you hear in his voice, but you don't stop him. Shoto clears his throat as his hand works its way into your hair, "Storm has always known that I love you."

"Shoto, I am so deeply in love with you," you rush out as you lean into him, "I just never thought you would-" "I always have," he cuts you off, his voice rough and meaningful.

Shoto is looking at you like you hung the moon and stars, but as his gaze locks onto your (colored) one, it dips a little lower. Before you know it, your nose is brushing his, Shoto's breath hot on your face.

Butterflies rekindle in your stomach as you lean into him even more. Shoto is no better, his mind is only focused on you, and how badly he wants to kiss you.

Just as your lips start to graze his, there's a knock at the door. Shoto pulls back a few inches and you hear him whisper under his breath, "Fuck."

The curse word coming from your best friend, no, lover, draws a laugh from you, but you can't blame him. You had been dreaming of this moment for years. Then, a pang of nervousness washes over you as you realize - it's probably Enji Todoroki at the door.

"Fuck indeed," you whisper back as you look up at Shoto. Shoto, who is still very much shirtless and in wet clothes. You, who is still dressed in your drenched clothes, pinned against the wall.

You swallow deeply and say, "It's alright, I'll go check the door. I can say you're getting changed in my room. I'm pretty sure there's a spare set of clothes in there."

Shoto nods and begins to pull away, but something changes in his gaze, and he leans back in to press a soft kiss to your forehead. It's not what you had been expecting or wanting, but nonetheless, it makes your heart rate skyrocket again.

Shoto chuckles at the way your brain stalls, and he backs away into your room as you sway against the wall. Another knock sounds out from the front door and you call, "C-coming!"

You can hear another laugh come from Shoto at the waver in your voice. Damn Shoto, now he knows the effect he has on me. Your legs are wobbly as you walk up to your door, and you have to give yourself false confidence as you prepare to face Shoto's father.

You swing the door open and are met with silence. Confusion floods over you as you look to the left and right of your door, and there is no one present.

A frown etches its way onto your features as you call out, "Hello? Anyone there?" A moment later, loud scuffling sounds ring out from your roof, and then, Storm jumps onto the ground outside of your front door.

The large grey Scauldron holds his head low, a solemn look on his face. You let a sigh out of your nose as you look at your dragon, who was bearing the look of a kicked dog.

"Alright, Storm. I get it now. You were jealous because I didn't have eyes just for you. Come here, big boy," you say, opening your arms to his head. Storm swings his long neck and head over to you, cuddling into your frame in apology for his actions.

You hear footsteps behind you, and when you pull away from Storm, you are met with a freshly dressed Shoto. The red and white-haired man looks between you and the dragon, initially with distrust on his porcelain features, but then he gets a good look at your face.

You nod your head toward Storm as if to say, See? It's over now. Shoto slowly walks up behind you, offering his hand out to Storm in a friendly manner. Storm pulls away from you, looking at Shoto in a similar distrust.

I'm not letting this happen again, you think to yourself as you cut in, "Storm, stop it." The dragon turns to look at you, and you take a step closer to Shoto, taking his hand in your own.

"Storm, you are my only dragon," you tell him, and then you glance at Shoto with a smile and say, "But Shoto is my only person. You have to accept that he will be in my life."

Storm stares at you for a second before letting a low roar and breath out. He lowers his head to the ground again, pressing his large skull against Shoto's outstretched hand.

Both you and Shoto can't stop the electric smiles on your faces as Storm pulls away, kindly. The dragon turns to walk away, his wings spreading out on either side. In a couple of large, dramatic flaps, Storm heads back toward the village.

Shoto watches your gaze follow Storm until he disappears, tightening his grip on your hand. "Y/n/n, I think it's time you get changed. I don't want you to get sick because of me."

You turn to look at Shoto, and with a sly grin, you mumble, "But at least I'll have you if I get sick, right?" Shoto shakes his head with a smile but replies, "You'll have me regardless if you get sick."

He then gets shy for a moment as he says quieter, "That is, if you'll have me." You squeeze his hand before letting it go, and you see a moment of panic flash across Shoto's face.

But you wrap your arms around his neck, your fingers threading through the drying locks at the base of his head, finding the damp braids on his nape. You smile up at him gently as you lean into him slowly, "You made me fall in love with you, Shoto. I will have you in whatever ways you give me."

And that was enough incentive for him. One of Shoto's hands finds its place on your jaw, while the other grabs at your waist. The clothes are damp under his touch, but he doesn't seem to mind.

Shoto tilts your head back, moving quickly at first, his mouth chasing yours. But just as his lips go to brush over yours, he slows down. His nose brushes against yours, and a shaky breath falls from your mouth as you await his kiss.

Shoto lets out a sigh, "I will have you in every way, but you need to get in dry clothes first. I have waited my whole life to kiss you, I can wait a few more moments."

A groan builds up in your throat, but you comply, pulling away from him slowly and starting toward your house. You turn and look over your shoulder, calling out, "Shoto Todoroki, you will be the death of me."

Shoto smirks and faces you, calling back, "And befriending your dragon will be the death of me."

-The End-

[robin-evry]

Hellooo!~ I was wondering if you can do a TWST x Mitsuri!Yuu (from demon slayer)

Don't forgot to eat, sleep, and drink!~

Sure things, ask and you shall receive. Sorry for taking so long

𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐈𝐅 𝐌𝐈𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐈!𝐘𝐔𝐔 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐖𝐒𝐓 💚🩷🍡

Mitsuri Kanroji (甘かん露ろ寺じ 蜜みつ璃り, Kanroji Mitsuri?) is a major supporting character of Demon Slayer: Kimetsu no Yaiba. She is a Demon Slayer of the Demon Slayer Corps and the Love Hashira (恋こい柱ばしら, Koi Bashira?) of the Taisho era.

Big sister of the first years, always giving them advice as well supporting thru anything, offering their support towards who are having a bad time and will always try to find ways to cheer them on

Originally they suppressed their appetite since they are afraid of being judged in NRC at first so they usually have one plate during lunch and have a bunch of snacks break in between periods. But soon they started to gain more confidence to the point they eat normally at lunch.

Sebek and silver admired them seeing mitsuri!yuu as some sort of knight or warrior that protects people from the hands of demons. One time Lilia asked them to teach them swords man ship but they failed to study mitsuri!yuu swordmanship so they advise them to find their own specific sword style and find their own path.

Lilia holds respect for them, and during one time mitsuri!yuu show him his blade and color him impressed. Even if he's unable to wield it and is also Curious who has the skills to create a sword that is unique. Lilia also admires their pursuit for love and them being their own person as well being a warrior that is willing to risk their lives to protect people from monsters.

Always have snacks with them, grim will always for some of their Sakura mochi so they usually bring extra whenever anyone wants one.

The embodiment of beauty and the beast, many students actually assume that they were weak until mitsuri!yuu once lift up an entire boulder without any sweat and grim is just their smirking while their jaws drop knowing their capabilities.

Grim and mitsuri!Yuu the best pair ever, big sister of him, always encouraging him to achieve his dreams of being a mage always giving him the support or motivation. Originally grim was surprised that mitsuri!yuu believe him in wanting to be a mage.

Sometimes the first years would go to the ramshackle dorm to hang out with mitsuri!yuu, they would always prepare a big batch of food so they and the first years have a wonderful time, and sometimes would host an eating contest and mitsuri!yuu would always be the victor. Having tea parties, picnic and movie nights.

Mitsuri!Yuu has started to take interest in baking and they are very good at it. So during their birthdays the first years but then a cook book, as well getting them multiple other gifts, malleus even gave them a special sword made in briar valley.

Mitsuri!yuu and jack would usually have morning jogs together. And sometimes vil would tag along with them.

Vil originally his first interaction with them is thru a rumor, a beauty and the beast students who once lift a boulder as well known for being a ferocious appetite, during lunch vil is secretly looking at them and was impressed by how much they can eat. By now vil has respect for them and thinks they are a good role model for epel.

Rook admired their passion as well for their determination. Never giving up as well always willing to help people, he sees them as a righteous knight.

Remember the scene of mitsuri and teaching someone how to do splits, that epel with mitsuri!Yuu training is good for him his body is more flexible than ever.

During the dwarf mine cave incident, mitsuri!yuu displayed their skills Infront of the Adeuce and grim, by punching the monster and sending it back to the wall with force to the point it caused a crater behind it. The reason they didn't use their blade is due to Crowley forbidding them from using it freely in areas with students fearing it would hit them, if mitsuri!yuu have their blade the fight would be over in seconds.

Own multiple pets. A bunny, snake, cat, mouse and etc. called them a Disney princess mitsuri!yuu just admired and loved animals. They would also try to head pat jack, Leona, and ruggie and get rejected every time until they begin to allow them to pet them.

Ever since their appearance in twst, mitsuri!yuu was recommended to try ballet by the first years and vil, and soon they excel at it and become a ballerina as a hobby and something to do at the side.

They have enough money to support them and grim for a life full of comfort thanks to their job during their time as a demon slayer.

Excel at gym class is like a morning walk compared to their training as a demon slayer, professor vagas all time favourite students Always encourage students to be like them. Many students started to reconsider whether they are human or not.

Once the savanaclaw challenged them to an arm wrestling challenge and they dominated it even defeating Leona surprising the entire dorm. And now they call them big sisters mitsuri!yuu and have respect for them.

The first year's first impression of their job as a demon slayer was cool, they slay demons to protect people from demons is so cool for them. Actually it's mentally draining to be a demon slayer since you gotta witness innocent people being turned into demons or dying and eaten by demons.

[letsgetrowdy43]

Two's company, three's a crowd☆—

Request: Quinn and Honey find out they are pregnant with Maeve.

Ahhhh I'm in love with this 🤭

Au Masterlist!!

Jack's girlfriend placed baby Weston right into Quinn's arms, a soft smile on the man's face as he held the little bundle of joy close to his chest. "He's beautiful J," Honey whispered, teary-eyed at how fatherly Jack looked as he began to tear up at Hun's comment.

The woman admired the intimate scenery in front of her, a baby in Quinn's arms and a misting of tears in his eyes as he held his godson for the first time.

The moment Honey and Quinn made it to their own room in the Lake House Honey sat her husband down on the edge of the bed. A serious look in her eyes as she began, "I'm about to throw an idea out into the open, if you're not on the same page that's fine, just think about it." "You wanna have another baby?" Quinn mused with a grin as he leaned back onto his elbows as Honey smiled shyly. "Sooo badly," she said finally sitting down next to him on the mattress, "my babies aren't babies anymore, and you were holding Weston and I missed that," she watched as Quinn smirked at her, her hands running through his curls as he closed his eyes contently at the feeling.

Quinn pretended to think for a second as his wife waited eagerly for his response, "I'll have as many babies as your heart desires," he grinned as she smacked him in the arm and then pressed a slow kiss to his lips. "I think three is the perfect amount," she mumbled against his mouth as he nipped at her bottom lip.

"I think we should start trying right now," he whispered smugly, his hands running over her hips as he pulled her into his lap. A shallow breath left her lips as he trailed as many kisses along her skin as he possibly could, "your brother is still downstair with the baby," she said in a hushed tone trying to gain enough composure to pull herself off of him. "This is entirely his fault," he said in between kisses as his lips found hers once again, "shouldn't have let me hold the baby looking all sexy, he knew you'd cave," Quinn joked as he flipped her on her back as she let out a quiet squeal.

☆☆

The summer was long over and the hockey season was beginning to pick up, the kids were back in school and Honey's work was starting to pick back up. So the hopes of trying again kinda of withered away as life got busy.

That was until Honey laid in bed reading one of those cheesy romance novels that she couldn't get enough of, a tired Quinn asleep next to her, buried in the sheets with one arm wrapped around his wife's torso.

Something had felt off with Honey, she knew her body, she could feel some sort of sickness coming on as the work week came to an end, but what she didn't expect was for a little notification from her period tracker app to pop up saying she was just over three weeks late. A little gasp left her lips as she stared at her phone, "Q," she shook him gently and she got up and out of bed. "What's wrong," he sat up alert, as he stared at his wife who was making her way to the ensuite bathroom.

He followed her tiredly after coming to the realization that there was no real danger, she grinned and stood with a box in her hands. "I'm late," she said with a grin as Quinn leaned against the bathroom counter a tired smile on his face as she leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his lips, "now get out so I can take this," she shooed him back into their room and shut the door behind him. Quinn laughed at her bossy demeanour, waiting right outside the door for her to open it again. "Can you start a timer for two minutes," she said faintly through the door as she washed her hands and opened it up to see a smiling Quinn.

The two of them stood in the bathroom, her on the counter, and him in between her legs, hands on both of her thighs as they stared at the stopwatch on the phone. It was silent, not tense, but quiet.

A little under a minute left on the clock as Quinn looked up at her, "Remember the first time, in the old apartment, and I proposed to you right after I made you think I was about to leave you."

Forty-five seconds.

"I was so panicked, and then you left me crying," she mumbled, looking away from the clock to see him watching her with so much love in his eyes. "The outcome was perfect though," he whispered, "I can't believe that was almost nine years ago."

Thirty seconds left.

"We had no idea what we were doing," she reminisced as she looked back down at the clock. "I had no doubts in us." "Of course, you didn't" "I'm serious," he laughed, "we were so in love, I had no hesitations that we would figure it out," he was so serious, his tone so genuine as he spewed love-sick words, blush rising up her cheeks as his eyes landed back on the timer

Fifteen seconds.

"You think we have it figured out by now?" she asked, leaning forward to place a kiss on his brow bone as he stared in concentration. "I think we'll be just fine," he said with a little grin, "our first two are perfect, I'm sure this one will be just fine."

Five seconds.

"I love you," he looked at her as she leaned down and placed a soft kiss on his lips. "I love you so much Q," she whispered as her forehead pressed against his.

The time startled both of them as Quinn silenced it, a nervous grin on both of their faces as they stared at the test that was placed upside down on the other end of the bathroom counter. "I'll do it," she reached over the sink and grabbed the little pink stick, holding it upside down in between them. both of them saying a silent little prayer inside their heads as Honey flipped it over.

"Pregnant 2 weeks"

A gasp left her lips as she looked up at Quinn who pulled her into his chest, squeezing her so tight as she whispered about just how much she loved him in his ear. "We are having a baby," he pulled away, his hands now cupping her face as he kissed her once again, tears rolling down both of their cheeks as they shared sloppy emotional kisses, surrounded by their love for one another and their little, now complete, family.

-

-

-

[writer-in-theory]

inspired by a conversation i had with @serenity-lattes over a fic i'm writing

--

"Hey, Steve, why didn't you tell us you had a brother?"

There were a lot of things that Steve still didn't know about his family. He didn't know his great-grandparents moved to the United States from Italy until he had to do an ancestry project his senior year, and he'd just learned last week that there were others on his mother's side with hearing loss like him. Still, Steve knew that despite all the secrecy, there was no way he had a secret brother.

"I don't have a brother," Steve told Robin as much, coming back into the living room to see Robin and Eddie huddled over something. "What makes you think that?"

"Harrington, I think dear ol' dad's lying to you," Eddie teased, handing over the paper they were staring at.

Birth Certificate

This is to certify that Robert Steven Harrington Jr weighing 8 lbs. 13 oz. was born on the 13th day of December to Robert and Theresa Harrington in the year of 1967.

"How the hell did you find my birth certificate?" Steve balked, watching his best friend and boyfriend stare at him like he had two heads.

"Your birth certificate?" Robin repeated, eyes drifting back down to stare at the paper in his hands.

"Who else's would it be? Am I missing something?" It wasn't too uncommon for Steve to miss the joke, especially with people as quick-witted as Robin and Eddie. Still, this one seemed particularly confusing to even the others, with all three of them staring at each other in complete cluelessness.

"No, no, no," Eddie spoke up then, snatching the certificate out of Steve's hands and holding it up to the light like that might make reading it easier. "There is no way I'm dating a Robert."

Wait...

"You thought my legal name was Steve?"

Was that all this was? Steve didn't fully understand the big deal, especially since he'd never once gone by his legal first name. Even as a kid his parents were calling him Steven, eventually caving and calling him Steve as he wished by the time he entered middle school. He thought everyone had known by now, what with Tommy choosing to call him 'Robert' whenever he was upset with Steve.

"Why would I think anything else? Steven Harrington, how could you not tell me!" Robin shouted, playfully hitting his shoulder when all he did was laugh.

"Robert Harrington," Eddie corrected, immediately pulling a groan from his boyfriend.

"Uh uh, you're not calling me that," Steve decided, taking the certificate back and tucking it away in the drawer where they'd found it. Tomorrow he'd have to dig through the house and hide anything else he didn't want them to see, including any pictures his mother might have left lying around.

"How about Junior?" Robin tried, bursting into laughter at Eddie's responsive cackle. "I mean, who knew someone would go by a nickname of their middle name?

"Are you two done yet?" Steve groaned, tipping his head back to look at the ceiling.

"Aw, c'mon, Robbie, you love us." That was Eddie judging by the arm quickly slung over Steve's shoulders and the kiss planted firmly on his cheek. "I just can't believe you didn't tell us that Stevie isn't your name."

"Stevie has never been my name," Steve laughed, stepping away from Eddie's hug and laughing when the man's arms reached out to hold onto him tighter. "I'll take it over Robert."

"I knew you loved it, baby," Eddie teased, laughing at Steve's expression.

Then Steve grinned, turning to face Eddie so he could lean in close. Right as Eddie licked his lips in anticipation of a kiss, Steve patted his cheek and said, "Baby, you didn't even know my name."

He and Robin laughed until they could hardly breathe, but Eddie was the one laughing when he had the entire Party calling Steve "Rob" the next morning.

[livesworthlivingau]

Behind the Vale Chapter 22

ISAT/Two Hats spoilers below the break! CW: Blood soaking clothes.

And the OTHER new fit reveal! also by @kuro-is-doodlin

[You slowly stir back awake a couple hours later, groggy and weak. You find the strength to lift yourself up, realizing you were still lying with Nille, who had remained in her soft slumber. Her face holding that soft smile she often sported. You're shaken out of your love struck stare as you notice the dark stains across her clothing, looking back down at yourself to see it having drenched your own clothing as well... at least that horrible shade had faded away.]

[You carefully climb out of bed, trying your best not to disturb Nille. You undress from your soiled outfit, cleaning your face and neck as well. The bandages covering your chest were soaked through as well, slowly peeling them off one strip at a time, revealing that caved in scar across your chest again, just staring for a moment as the nightmare flashed in your mind once again. Seeing your own face twisted into a horrid mask, pulled from your very chest...]

[You take a deep breath, doing your best to shake it off and going back to cleaning yourself. Once you were done cleaning up, you decide to swap to your other new outfit. A backless, near lightless turtleneck tank top with a small cutout on the chest and loose, sheer fabric sleeves that go around the rear as well, along with a pair of dark shaded, tapered capris. The outfit complimented by your usual gloves and boots of course.]

[You admire yourself in the mirror for a moment, you're grateful that it get your mind off of everything else for the moment. The moment is short lived though as you notice Nille's still slumbering form in the mirror. You decide to take a walk, needing some fresh air to clear your mind, you think. You creep to the door, very carefully opening it up and shutting it behind you, trying to be as silent as possible.]

"Oh good morning!" [You almost leap out of your boots as the sudden voice startles you, turning to see the old woman who runs the inn just leaving her room as well. You take a second to catch your breath as she lets out a little chuckle.]

"Oh, sorry dear, didn't mean to scare you! I hope the two of you made up, you gals are so cute together~." [She remarks in a hopeless romantic way. You try your best to hide the emotions on your face, though you weren't entirely sure how to filter through the countless emotions rushing through you at the moment. You just give a nervous smile and go along with it.]

"N-Nothing but a silly little spat is all! We've been through far worse, I assure you~." [Stars why are we humoring this?]

"That's great to hear, sweetie! Well just so you know, most places won't be open this early of course, but the park on the north side has such a lovely serenity to it, watching the sunrise from there is breathtaking~. I'm sure your girlfriend would love to see it too." [She continues with her assumptions. This is what we get for playing along...]

"I-I'll keep that in mind, thank you very much m'dame~!" [You try your best to be polite, rushing towards the stairs as you speak to ensure she couldn't get any more words out, waving goodbye just as you slip out of sight, heading out of the front door and shutting it behind you, leaning back against it with a relieved sigh.]

[The cool night air blows through you... there's something comforting about the cold chill cutting through your form, a feeling you hadn't felt in a long while. You place a hand over your chest, the little cut out on your top revealing the tip of your scar to the air, sending a shiver through your whole body. The sensation was uncomfortable, yet welcome. Just another thing about you that was different now, finally different, no longer that damned star you trapped yourself as... You struggle out a deep breath through the chill of night and head off to the park the innkeeper mentioned.]

[It was peaceful, serene, so still and perfect. Almost as if the land had been frozen again in some beautiful way. You'd believe that if not for the cool breeze lightly rustling the grass as it flows by. You take a seat at one of the benches, just absorbing the scene before you, enjoying the cold air, even as you begin to shake and shiver from the consistent cold.]

[You look up at the night sky, seeing all the stars twinkling and shining as always... They feel so distant, more than they ever have before... you're not sure if that's a good thing or not at this point. You glance about them all, trying to find something, anything to recognize, anything that feels familiar. Then you finally spot it, a star, one that feels brighter, stronger, oddly so... It calls to you, like a guide... that must be your wish. You close your eyes and struggle for another deep breath... It's almost time... we can feel it. Stars we're not ready...]

"Vale?" [You perk up, turning to see Nille approaching, wearing her cloak over her form, likely to cover up your blood that still stained her clothes.]

"I thought you'd ran off again..." [Crab... we probably should have left a note or something...]

"O-Oh, sorry, I just... needed some fresh air." [Nille sighs in relief... then her face starts to darken, the panic fading away and she takes in your whole outfit.]

"Th-Those are quite the threads you got on, there." [Your own face darkens a bit too, looking away.]

"Th-Thank you! I thought it was rather stunning, is it not~?" [You try to keep your little flirty mask up, but you still can't even manage to look at her. You quickly perk up as she was suddenly sitting beside you, her arms wrapping around yours and holding close.]

"Change, it's freezing out here, how can you stand this? I mean crab, you're even shivering!"

"Hehe, it actually feels sort of n-nice." [You start to explain through your chattering teeth.]

"I-I ran so hot as a star, it's nice to feel cold finally~."

"Well that's great for you, but I'm freezing! Can we go back inside now?" [She asks, causing you to chuckle some, glancing back up at the sky, looking at that star.]

"Not yet... Do you see it?" [You ask, helping point it out to her. She looks up to it as her annoyed, uncomfortable look swaps to one of awe.]

"Th... That's... Bonnie is that way, I can feel it!"

"It seems my wish came true..." [Your own expression falls to a more bittersweet one. You perk back up as you feel Nille's fingers intertwine with yours, holding your hand tightly.]

"Hey... It's gonna be alright, I'm here for yah, and I'm not going anywhere, alright?"

"... Thank you Nille." [You sigh out, looking up to the sky again as you notice the light of the sun starting to poke through, just savoring the gorgeous sight of the sun rising. Nille's head lightly lays onto your shoulder as she watches. You both sit in silence, taking in the beautiful view together.]

[topknot32]

Girl Dad (2/2)

Rio/OFC

summary- Rio sees his pregnant ex-girlfriend out one night not long after their breakup. He seizes the opportunity, and tries to persuade her to let him be in his kid's life, and hers, too.

warnings- 18+. Smut below the cut

word count- 3.4K

CAMILA

The smell of cigarette smoke had always been a turn off for Camila, always. Until she met Rio. Now, the smell of menthol and cedar wood cologne were comforts. The combination was entirely Christopher, and she breathed it in as he held her in the middle of the restaurant without a care who saw them.

She could blame it on hormones all she wanted, but in truth, she missed him. The few weeks they spent being consumed by one another were some of the best she ever had. There were several moments in their affair when she believed it could be something real, that he might not be the stereotype she'd originally labeled him as.

But every time she opened her mouth to tell her friends and family, something held her back. It was the lifestyle. The unpredictable and dangerous way he lived his life when they weren't together. Christopher had never involved her in his business, but she wasn't stupid or naive.

Camila understood the money he earned to buy luxury vehicles and expensive jewelry wasn't brought in by honest means. That part didn't bother her, no. The part that did was the danger it posed to him. He'd been shot, he told her so, and she'd seen the scars. She was a nurse, she knew what the three healed wounds on his chest were before he even said the words. Getting attached to someone who could end up getting themselves killed was terrifying no matter how much she enjoyed his company and getting pregnant by him was equally so.

When she looked up as he held her, she forgot all of that. He stared down at her with the kind of intensity that made butterflies take flight in her stomach, and she chanced a glance down at his lips. When Christopher put all his attention on her, no one else existed.

"Sorry for the waterworks. I always thought pregnancy hormones were an over dramatization, but nope. They are, in fact, very real."

"You good?" he asked after brushing away the remaining tears from her cheeks. She nodded just as the waitress came over with her salad.

Camila straightened up, and Chris released her, but he didn't retreat. He stayed on her side of the booth while she ate, an arm thrown up behind her on the back of the seat.

The winds seemed to have shifted between them since his apology. She didn't feel as angry, and he didn't seem as arrogant or confrontational. It didn't feel awkward between the two, and a comfortable kind of silence settled over them.

When Camila was finished, Chris brushed a few fallen strands of hair behind her ear. "Come home with me," he said softly, sending a chill down her spine.

She avoided looking at him because the second she did, she'd cave. "I don't think that's a good idea."

"Why not?"

He looks irresistible, she thought. "It's just not."

"Please."

The way that one word left his lips pulled her gaze. She could get lost in his brown eyes, and she nearly did. He gave her one of those up and down glances that made her breathe quicken, the kind he snuck so quickly she wasn't even sure if she really saw it.

"I don't—"

"Don't fight me. We don't have to do anything. That's not what this is." He motioned between them with a silver ringed hand. "Let me take care of you. It's the least I can do."

"I have to work early," she tried, but he brushed that off before she'd barely gotten the words out.

"I'll have you tucked in before midnight. Come on."

Chris pulled out his wallet and threw down a few bills, then pulled out his beanie and slid it on. He was always a good tipper, having sympathy for people in the service industry. She admired him for it. Wealth hadn't made him selfish, at least not in that aspect.

He helped her out of the booth, holding her hand like a gentleman. His black SUV was parked on the street just a block away, and once they were inside, he turned up the heat for her sake, knowing how much she hated to be cold. It was a warm cocoon that smelled like him, enveloping her in a sense of calm and safety she hadn't felt since she ended their relationship.

Rap music played quietly, not too loud to interrupt a conversation if she wanted to start one, and it seemed like he was waiting for just that. His fingers tapped a soft beat on the steering wheel as he drove, and he glanced her way every so often.

"I don't want you to pay for things," she said after a while. Chris looked over, a frown forming. "You said you wanted to help, to pay for stuff for the baby."

“And that’s a problem?”

Camila took in a deep, shaky breath. "I don't want to be a single mom, to do all of this alone." She shifted a little in her seat to see him better. She could tell by the tension in his jawline he didn't like the words coming out of her mouth. "Did you mean what you said, about Beth?"

He laughed, a sarcastic kind of laugh. She hated it. "I wouldn't have said it if I didn't mean it. I figured you knew that by now."

"If she's nothing to you, then do this with me. I don't want your money, I can do that myself. I want you in it, too. All the way. Like, up all night, no sleep, covered in puke all the way."

The sarcastic humor vanished as he processed. He looked over at her, then back at the road. "You're serious?"

"I'm not saying I want to get back together, but I need you, Christopher."

"You have me," he said softly, reaching over to take her hand. "I promise."

Inside his apartment, Christopher pulled his jacket off, heading for the bedroom. Camila always loved his place. The open concept, the warm touches of wood and leather, the photographs.

"Strip," he said, dragging his sweatshirt off next. With his back to her, she admired the newly exposed tan skin, the muscles rippling as he moved. She loved the way his jeans hung on his hips.

She had to drag her eyes away from the lines of his hip bones. "I'm not sleeping with you."

He looked back over his shoulder, hands reaching for his belt buckle. "I'm a grown man, Camila. I can see you naked and not have to fuck. Do what I said."

He disappeared around the corner into the bathroom where she heard the sound of the shower turning on. Her stomach did a nervous flip, but she was happy to be here. She kicked off her shoes and pulled her own sweatshirt off, leaving her in jeans and a lace bralette in her favorite shade of lavender.

He was already in the shower by the time she came in. It was a massive glass box of smooth, black tile with two shower heads, one on each side. His back was to her as she unfastened her jeans and pushed them down along with her panties, then stripped off the bralette, leaving her naked. Next, Camila pulled the hair tie from her hair and let it fall. The steamy air in the bathroom felt like heaven on her skin, the tense muscles in her neck and shoulders already loosening.

When she stepped into the shower, Christopher glanced at her with heavy eyes, drinking her in slowly, like it was the first time, but he kept his distance. She liked the way he looked at her, like she was something rare and special to behold. He turned so he could see her better, but they stayed beneath their separate sprays.

While Camila washed her hair, she snuck a few glances at his perfectly tan, tattooed body. If he saw, he didn't make it known, or at least he didn't chastise her for it. She could admire him for hours and not get tired of the view. With an internal scolding, she turned so he was out of her line of sight.

She found her thoughts drifting to a very similar scene, but a different time. A series of many different times in this very room when there was no space between them, just skin on skin, his long fingers tangled in her hair, lips exploring every single inch of her body. When desire was the ruler of her emotions.

Fingertips brushing the wet hair off the back of her neck and over her shoulder yanked Camila back to now, and her heart nearly stopped. Christopher was standing beneath the spray just behind her. She'd been so wrapped up in her thoughts she hadn't even noticed him come over.

"Where you at?" he hummed, pressing his lips to the spot where her neck and shoulder connected.

Camila shivered, hyper aware of how close he was behind her, the heat of his body giving her goosebumps. His fingers ran down her arm where he laced them through hers, pulling her hand up to press a kiss to the center of her palm. The other hand slid around her waist, resting right over her abdomen.

"I was just thinking," she said softly, eyes fluttering closed.

"About what?"

The sound of his voice was enough to make her melt into him, and she found all rational thought disappearing.

"Us."

She felt him chuckle—a slow, sleepy sound as he kissed his way across her shoulder blade. "Quit makin' me ask and say what's on your mind."

Camila turned her head to see him better, and he looked down with half lidded eyes. He was irresistible, water dripping down his face, his focus entirely on her. Surprising even herself, she leaned up and connected their lips, answering his question without words.

Christopher didn't deny her. He kissed her back, deep and slow, eliciting feelings only he knew how to. It was a sensation she'd desperately missed. She tried to turn in his arms, but he held firm, keeping her right where she was. Keeping her under his control. When he pulled back, he released her hand and cupped her cheek.

"Stop it," he whispered, and she blushed, but kept eye contact.

It was a battle of wills. She waited to see if he would kiss her again, and he waited to see what she wanted, what she was thinking. She could feel his cock hardening, pressing into the small of her back, but he made no move to push her further.

"Tell me what you want, Camila," he said, ghosting his lips across hers, but pulling back when she tried to kiss him.

"Christopher—"

"No."

She bit her bottom lip, drawing his eyes down to the movement. Wanting him and asking for it were two different things. In her mind, she wanted him to let go of his restraints, for him to devour her like only he could, but she didn't know how to say that out loud.

Christopher waited patiently, holding her body tight to him, but there was that look in his eye that told her he wanted an answer.

"I want you," she finally whispered, feeling the heat of embarrassment spreading up from her chest.

He grinned. "You have me. All wrapped around your pretty finger."

“You know what I mean."

"You should be really clear because what I think you might mean, you told me wasn't gonna happen."

The hand on her abdomen slipped lower, and her heart jumped into her throat. His fingertips drew shapes just above where she wanted them. She shifted back, connecting their lower bodies firmly, making a sharp breath leave his chest. He was hard as a rock now. Heat pooled in her lower body that had nothing to do with the temperature of the shower.

"Please fuck me," she managed to get out, leaning up to kiss him again, the words vibrating against his mouth. He let her have it this time, slipping his tongue between her lips to tangle with her own.

He nudged her forward toward the shower wall just out of the spray. She nearly cried with relief. Christopher took her hand again, raising it to rest against the tile, his covering hers as his other finally dipped between her legs, brushing over her clit, making her shudder.

She pulled away from his lips, dropping her forehead and resting it against the tile. His fingers worked over her dripping pussy, mouth dropping to her shoulder, teeth grazing the skin there. It was everything she'd been daydreaming about, but everything she said she wouldn't do if she came here. And yet she needed it, needed him.

He moved his hand lower, slipping a finger inside her, and the groan that came from his lips could've made her come right on the spot. He added a second finger and pumped them slow and torturous. It felt like heaven, but it wasn't enough.

"Please," she begged, resting her other hand on the tile, lips parting when his fingers curled in a way that made her cry out.

"Fuck, Camila." He removed his fingers and used his knee to knock her thighs wider apart. The thought that he was as eager as she was made her body flush even more. He used his free hand to guide his cock to her entrance, and pushed inside.

She tried to pull her hand under his free from the wall, but he held her there, forcing the other one up, caging her in, sinking himself deeper inside her. He stayed like that for what felt like forever, letting her body adjust to him by just barely pulsing in and out of her as he kissed every inch of skin he could reach. After tormenting her for several agonizing moments, his hips moved quicker, body pressing flat against hers.

"Your pussy feels so goddamn good, baby," he whispered in her ear, making her legs turn to jelly as he fucked her. "I missed this, I missed you."

He finally let her hands go, running one up her body to squeeze one of her breasts, brushing over her nipple with his thumb. It sent shocks of electricity straight between her legs, and she gasped, chin dropping to her chest.

Christopher leaned forward and kissed her jaw, teeth nipping at the skin. "Did you miss me, too?"

"Yes." She could barely form words. His cock stroked magic along her walls, his thrusts forceful and fast enough to make her lose her breath.

His hand moved back down between her legs, circling her clit with expert precision. "Tell me."

"Yes, I missed you," she gasped, latching onto his forearm and digging her nails in hard enough to leave indents. A ball of pleasure had begun to form in her lower body.

"I want you to come for me, baby,"

She moaned his name, unable to hold it in at his encouragement, the sound of his hips snapping against hers making her tremble. He took her chin in his other hand and forced her to look up at him, to meet his gaze. She could feel herself falling apart, and by the way he stared down at her, he liked the mess he'd made. Her eyes fluttered closed as she reached the precipice, so close to tipping over the edge into sheer bliss.

"Look at me," he whispered, his own pleasure thick in his voice. She opened her eyes, her lips parting as the hunger in his voice made the ball of pleasure explode.

The orgasm took her breath away, snatching it right from her chest, but Christopher held her tight and fucked her through it, not giving her an inch of space to pull back. It went on for what felt like forever, sapping every ounce of energy from her, and she was grateful for his grip or she would've dropped like a stone.

Just as hers was dissipating, his hit him full force, and she gazed up at him with heavy, satiated eyes. She loved the way his own eyes closed, his mouth dropping open, breath hitching in his chest. When Christopher opened his eyes again, he stole a kiss, his cock softening inside her. He pulled out and rested his forehead against her shoulder to catch his breath.

The water was still running hot, and Camila had to thank whoever installed the water heater in his building. When her legs felt steady enough, she pulled out of his hold and moved back under the spray, washing away the sweat and come from her skin. Christopher watched her with a half smirk, looking satisfied.

He joined her under the spray, pressing a hand to the tiny bump of her abdomen, the other running up from her ass to the cradle back of her neck. "Boy or girl," he asked.

It was a question she'd pondered for hours and hours over the last few weeks. Who would this little life be?

"Girl," she finally said, leaning up to kiss him. "You've got 'girl dad' in your DNA."

Christopher laughed, the smile covering his entire face, and Camila couldn't help but be smitten. "Why would you wish that on me? A lifetime of ass beatings and threats."

"Come on, I'm getting wrinkly."

Camila stepped out of the shower on shaky legs, Christopher right behind. She slipped into a robe on the hook on the wall and brushed her fingers through her hair, looking herself over in the mirror. He came to stand behind her, a towel tied around his waist.

He watched her as she pulled bottles from the cabinets—facial serum and moisturizers she'd stocked here when they were together. It warmed her heart to find them right where she left them, completely untouched like he knew she would be back.

"So, a girl, huh?" he asked, and she met his gaze in the mirror.

"I hope so."

He smiled, but shook his head. "I guess I should start prayin' now. I got a lot of bad karma just waitin' to rain down on my head."

"Hey, it's going to be okay either way."

He took a step forward and hugged her from behind, squeezing her tight and pressing a kiss to her temple. "Yeah, we will."

Finally, while she was putting lotion on her legs, he walked out of the bathroom, leaving her to finish getting ready for bed in a peaceful silence. By the time she was finished, Christopher had changed into sweats and pulled down the covers on the bed. He was putting on deodorant when she came back in.

"Get in bed, mama," he said, turning out the lights, leaving them in near darkness except for the city lights shining in through the enormous windows.

Camila thought the way he demanded nearly everything in life would get under her skin and drive them apart, but after the last few weeks of work without him around, she relished the way she could turn her mind off. It made her feel cozy and warm inside.

She slid between the sheets on her side of the bed, and he followed after adjusting the thermostat and closing the door. They laid beside each other for a while without speaking until he broke the silence.

"See, tucked in before midnight," he said, and she could hear the smirk without even seeing his face.

"I do believe I said coming home with you was a bad idea, though, and I was right."

He laughed. "My intentions were pure, I promise. You were the poor influence."

She reached out and swatted at his chest. Christopher snatched her up by the wrist and dragged her into his chest. She wound her arms around his waist and pressed a kiss to one of the scars on his chest—the bullet wound that'd pierced through to his lung. The one that nearly killed him.

"I want you to fire her," Camila said softly.

"What?"

She sat up a little so she could see his face. "Beth. She almost killed you once. She should never get the chance to try again."

The wheels turned inside his head, she could see it as he held her gaze. "You gonna stick around this time?"

"I'm here aren't I?"

"You gonna keep me a secret?" One of his eyebrows cocked curiously. "I give a little, you give a little, sweetheart." He brushed a finger over her bottom lip.

"No, you won't be a secret."

Christopher kissed her softly. "Good."

[sabcandoit]

Lately it's been raining in my town, so I had an idea, how do you think Spider-Noir would protect the reader from the rain? Would he give her an umbrella or would he give her his coat?

Do you think Noir would give the reader a kiss in the rain? 😏🌧

- Crystal ✨️💞

Thank you Crystal! Hope you like it :)

Walking in the Rain

Spider-Man Noir x Female reader

Summary: Reader and Peter are on a walk and it suddenly rains, causing them to run to shelter as Peter gives her his coat. They share a few kisses and get back home, sharing a few more.

Warnings: Fluff! Pet names and lots of romance, very on-brand for Noir. Kinda suggestive at the end there! What if I wrote a part two... what would you guys think?

A/N: Thanks for all of the continued love! Requests are still open. I love reading all of them although it takes me some time to actually write them. So please don't lose hope that I will write your request if I don't answer it right away :D

You and Peter were out for a walk. It was your average New York evening, except for the sudden sprinkle of rain starting to come down. Also, it was getting quite dark and cold. You wore a simple house dress and some comfortable flat shoes, not thinking much of it as the walk was supposed to be short anyway. It ended up lasting much longer than anticipated, with both of you conversing about your day. He wore his usual white button-down with black dress pants and a trenchcoat. 

You both looked up at the sky as the first few droplets came down, catching you off guard. “Oh, no,” he said disappointedly, watching as you giggled and grabbed his arm, leading him to the nearest shelter. He followed swiftly behind, both of you smiling now. After successfully getting away from the rain, you held your upper arms, shivering from the cold wetness. Your hair and clothes were damp now, but Peter was fairly dry except for the outer layer of his coat. He noticed your quivering and quickly took off said coat, shaking off some of the rain and holding it out to you. “Please take it, dear, I can’t allow my lady to be in such distress,” he went on dramatically as you accepted the coat. “Thank you, Peter,” you blushed and chuckled, hastily putting it on.

 It was long and large on you. You looked up at Peter with a grin, holding your arms up in a playful manner to show him the size difference. He smiled wider, bringing a hand out to adjust the shoulder of the coat to cover you better as you looked down at his actions. You both were grinning idiots, occupied with this sweet moment, it only becoming more romantic as your eyes met, his deep with love and yours softening. He brought his hand up to your cheek, cupping it as his thumb caressed the area. He was the first to lean in, bringing his lips close and kissing yours. As he closed his eyes, the rainwater dripped from his hat and onto his nose, trickling towards your skin. You kissed back, changing the positions of your faces making it only deepen. You parted for a moment, murmuring, “Such a gentleman,” to which he responded with a smirk, kissing you harder and wrapping an arm wound your waist. You put your arms around his shoulders and chuckled a bit more, seeing the rain pour down behind him. 

“Race ya,” you blurted, running with Peter’s trench coat above your head. He was left high and dry, the kisses only getting more passionate before he caved in and ran after you. You got to the front steps of your apartment before him, laughing heartily with your hands on your hips and bending over as he was still making his way. He stopped at the steps, looking up at you perched on them. As he tried to catch his breath he stared at you with total adoration, making your laughter turn into the familiar blushing you always felt whenever he did this. His entire self was now drenched, but he didn't mind, all that mattered was you, looking as beautiful as ever, even in your house dress and messy hair. What really topped the cake was seeing his coat completely covering your smaller frame. “You’re pretty as a picture,” he said exasperatedly. You shooed him teasingly but were swooning under the masquerade. “Come inside, you lover boy,” you unlocked the door and swung it open, walking inside and shrugging off his coat. You looked back to see him making his way up the stairs but still ogling at you as you strained your wet hair between your hands. You blushed more and rolled your eyes as he closed the door behind him, making his way over to you. He pinned you against the wall with his soaked white shirt, not leaving much to the imagination. He snaked both hands around your waist again, smirking in the kiss as he mumbled, “Oh, darling, I love you”.

TAGS: @miguelswifey04 @kairiscorner @alliwriteistrash @thecoolerdor

[elsaellaelys]

We can beat any shit together

summary: JJ finds scars on Y/N's thight and they don't look like an acidente.

pairing: JJ Maybank x fem!depressed reader

WARNINGS: Depression, anxiety, mensions of SH, kinda angst, but comforting.

800 words

a/n: I had to write about this. If you're going through something like that, look for help, someone you can trust, if you don't anybody call 211 or feel free to send a message. I wish somebody had told me this so I'll tell you. You are not alone.

--★--

JJ knows Y/N for as long as he can remember himself. Sweet John B's neighboor, living just down the road, joing all the times Big John took them to go fishing. He really liked her, the way she never judge him, always so kind and gentle, than he decided to take the self obligation to protect she no matter what - she looked like such a cute china doll and he wouldn't let she break. The pogues made fun of his behavior. Gotta pick her up from work! Gotta drop her at work! Save this for Y/N! No pickles, Y/N doesn't like it. He had to repay all the love she gave him, the love she made he feel. She barely realised it though, walking around with JJ just in front clearing her way, making sure there was no thorns.

That's why the discovery stabbed him right in the chest.

They were all on the beach, had just left the water to lay in the sand. Y/N stretched out, not really caring about putting a towel under, dead tired from the surfing. JJ watched she lay like a star, he couldn't help but stare at her, of course he had seem her in a bikini thousands of times, lately it's being different, hips wider, waist defined, boobs hanging in her top and thights... looking like they're melting?

"What's this?" He lean over, running his finger over the strange blur, skin color staying in his fingertip. She recoiled from his touch trying to hide the marks that appeared, eyes starting to water.

"Y/N?!"

She squirmed, hating to have the attention of the entire group now.

"It's just a little bit of foundation" she replies.

"Why you're putting makeup on your thights?" Kiara asks, face looking scared of the answer. Y/N wiped her leg, deep dark scars full on display.

JJ fliched, they were so deep, almost screaming sadness and pain. A nott formed on his throat just thinking about how much it must have hurt, how grotesque it looked. He looked back to her face, not finding the strength she must have to do something so... I mean she wasn't just cutting, that was mutilating.

"Fuck" She cried, she ruined the moment, it was a nice day, it felt okay, especially after she putted the right green concealer, the scars almost fading under it. The thought of the washing water faded from her mind.

"Tell me it was an acident, please."

"Does it look like one?" Y/N replied.

She wished they had caved the enourmous hole JJ suggest cause now she could bury herself on it. Pope's face looked full of pity like Kiara, John B. was confused - she made it herself? - but JJ, he was hurted, and she lightly pinched her arm for causing it.

"I'm sorry. I wanna go home." the girl said, grabbing her stuff, heading to the Twinkie. JJ followed her, trying to take her bag to care it.

"Wait." he begged, not really reaching her steps.

"No! JJ! Stop! Leave me, I just wanna go home"

"Give me the bag. Let me help you"

"You can't help me!"

It was not about the bag. She stopped, she fell, holding her knees close to her chest, crying the heart out. Lucky no one was around. JJ lowered next, stroking her hair.

"It's okay" he whispered.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry" she repeated over and over.

"Hey, no, don't be. I am the one who should be sorry. Look at me." his hands reached her face to pull it up seeing her wet lashes. "Sorry I didn't realized before" he begged again, because the memories just hitted him. The way she was always complainnig about the fights her parents were having, but still refused to leave the house, how she was tired all the time, even though she just woke up. Too many alcohol, to many cigarettes, less hangouts, less calls, less partys, much thoughts, much silence.

He fastly wiped the tears down his face holping she didn't noticed, just hugged she tightly.

The pogues approxed and they were hugging she too, whispering sweet nothings. Sweet everythings.

John B. was the first to get up holding his hand out for her.

"Let's go home." he says. They all know where is home.

In the ride JJ made sure he held she close, hand on her pulse, time in time putting his nose between her hair, just to know she's there, safe, with him.

"Can I ask you..." he carefully began "Where is the thing... you used?"

"In my bag, the little left pocket."

JJ almost cried again, for knowing that she cared it around, like a thing she needed close. He found it, trew it out tge window.

"You're going to be fine." he reasured "I'm right here. We can beat any shit together."

[sardonic-the-writer]

Nacho X reader. Please

Nacho flirting with a customer at his father's shop. Him leaning over the counter to get close.

aAAArgHHHouhhh going insane over this

Dropplets of sweat were dripping down the tip of his nose.

The beams of hot New Mexico sun spared no expenses today, even indoors where walls of brick and plaster would normally provide some sort of shelter. And it was only growing hotter from what Nacho could tell.

Many of the employees both inside and outside had unbuttoned the first couple levels of their work uniform down to expose their chest to the rare breeze that would bless them. That wasn't limited to Nacho Varga, the lone man currently occupying a wooden front desk, whose golden chain bounced against his chest if he sat down too quick.

A slow trickle of perspiration on his skin made Nacho itch to rub it off. But be sighed softly, continuing to thumb through a stack of twenties in his hand.

"Here you go, sir." The sound of a register opening and change clanking ripped through the not so silent shop as he took out a few ones in exchange for placing the twenties in the box. "Have a nice day." He offered a faint smile while holding out the extra money, palms turned up toward the sky.

The man who has been standing opposite of him across the counter for the past couple minutes offered a grunt and nod of his head, turning to walk out the glass double doors behind him. Probably to his newly repaired car; curtosy of Nacho's Papa.

Nacho sighed, finally taking a moment to wipe the back of his hand over his face, only to bring it back coated in a shean of sweat. He frowned. He had been meaning to get around to looking at the lobbys air conditioning, but simply hadn't found the time. Balancing two different jobs wasn't always easy and for more reasons than one. He tried not to think about that too much when he was at his Papa's shop. Still. That didn't change the fact that this place would start feeling more and more like an oven if he didn't take a look at the metal box sometime soon.

Eventually Nacho caved. He wasn't one to put things off a lot. And it didn't seem like any customers would be stopping by for a moment.

The quiet man disappeared to the back for a quick bout of silence only to emerge seconds later lugging a six foot ladder behind him like it was nothing. He was careful to keep it a ways of the ground before setting it down with a clank, keeping in mind the freshly waxed floor that his father had stayed out late doing last month.

Quick work was made of the activity. Just a few twists of a screwdriver, poking his head around to try and see what was going on, and reassuring his dad at one point that he would be okay standing on a ladder without anyone to hold it for him.

He was hoping that he could go the evening without anyone walking in, maybe moving on from the air conditioner (which had thankfully started working again after a couple hits to the side) to fixing a few other things around the place. Something that he knew his dad would appreciate.

Clearly that wasn't going to happen though. At least not in that moment.

Cool gusts of wind blew across Nacho's back, accompanying the ones in his face from the air conditioner as he screwed the top of it back in place. Shuffling behind him and the jingling of car keys told him that someone had entered—most likely to pay for a part they needed or some repairs.

"I'll be with you in a moment." He called out over his shoulder, voice as soft as always. No one answered him back—not that he expected them to. People tended to mind their own business around here.

Still. Nacho hurried to get back behind the counter.

You really wished you had listened to your last mechanic about buying a new car.

According to the stout man that had been assigned to fix up your rust bucket, you were just better off hurting an entirely new car at this point.

"I don't know if I could even do anything more but waste your time." The gruff man had said through a bushy mustache. "I can give you the address to another shop just across town that could handle this make and model better, but really, you're just better selling it for parts."

You'd taken the small card with the adress on it anyway, thanking him with a sigh before paying for the little bit they had been able to do.

He wasn't entirely wrong by saying those things to be fair. Unable to buy even the smallest of things beyond groceries in your fruitless quest for a decent paying job, you had been stuck driving the same blue colored tin can everywhere ever since you were sixteen. Not that you really minded. The only time it gave you trouble was when a road had one too many potholes. Most of the time people would come up with excuses to have ride in their own car anyways, not particularly enthusiastic to strap themselves down into the confines of your vehicle.

At least it smelled nice and was clean enough. You hoped that the people at this other dealership would give you some brownie points for that.

The employees had been nice enough upon you pulling in, if looking a little bored. And sweaty. Not that you could blame them—you had felt the blast of heat in stepping out of your car.

One had met you, shaking your hand firmly as you explained why you were there. From the way he ordered the people around your car to pull it around the back, you could only assume he was the owner. Or at least a manager. Nonetheless, he seemed nice enough.

"Ah Emelio needs to stop sending people here." The scruffy man had barked out a laugh as he released his grip on your hand. "He's going to start running out of clients! More for me and my mijo, I suppose."

You had politely smiled your way through a few more minutes of conversation until he gave you the instructions to the cash register, along with what you might have to pay for. (According to him, you were lucky that he even had enough parts laying around to upgrade your car, much less fix it.)

So you had walked into the small looking building sat smack dab on the drab premises. It wasn't much, but it was good enough considering you were someone who had been driving a car around looking like it had been tossed off Mount Everest

It was cool inside—much to your relief. Looked cozy as well. Had a few worn chairs and a funny color scheme, but you liked it. Seemed more genuine than the stuffy car dealerships sprinkled all around the upper side of town. Where the air felt like you were inhaling febreez stright from the can and the costumer service smiles looked way too fake.

There was a man too. Your neck tilted a little to get a better look, but from his position on a rusty ladder, you weren't able to see much than the back of his uniform.

"I'll be with you in a moment."

His voice was soft, which was a suprise. With broad shoulders like that and—again, from the little they could see—strong arms, he looked like he would have a rough edge to him.

"What can I help you with today?"

You took a second to sweep your eyes across his face, observing the way his jaw clenched when you did so, quickly snapping your eyes away when you noticed. The last thing you needed to do was make someone feel uncomfortable by staring at them. Even if he did have attractive features.

"I was sent here to pay for a tune up, I think? I don't really know but they sent me in here to talk to you."

He hummed, leaning into the counter with his elbows.

"Well, I can try and help you out if you want." The corner of his lips tilted up a little, a small smile blossoming on his face. "I'm Nacho."

"Like the chip?"

Nacho let out a breathy laugh almost inaudible to you, his eyes crinkling at the corners joyfully. You couldn't help but smile back yourself.

"I guess you say that."

"Last name Cheese?"

Another slight chuckle.

"Sure."

He liked the way your eyes shone at him when he leaned toward you. And you liked the way he laughed at your terrible attempts at a joke

Maybe your shitty car wasn't such a bad thing to happen to you after all.

[arvensimp]

Yo! I love your writing so much! Thank you so much for making this. Can we have some jealous arven 🥪🥪🥪

Thank you!!!! And okay!!! So I have another jealous Arven request w specific characters already, so I hope you don't mind the one I chose for this one heheh

-

Green Eyed Tera-Type

Jealous!Arven x reader

No gendered pronouns used. Arven is a rude young man.

--

"Bye!" You call to the other trainers leaving the raid as you adjust your bag a bit on your shoulders and make your way down the hill.

"You've been going into those crystal caves a lot lately," Arven says as he joins you. "Are you sure it's safe?"

"Well...." You reply, your voice gaining pitch as you draw out the word. "Jacq isn't entirely sure..."

"Seriously?!"

"But! I mean, who else could be safer than a champion in there, right?"

Arven sighs, his shoulders slumping. "I guess... It'd still probably be best if you didn't go in at all..."

"Who else would take care of the terastallized pokemon then? Besides, I'm finding some other powerful trainers in there, and I think we're working up a pretty good system of getting the pokemon calmed."

That seems to settle Arven a bit. "Really?"

"Yeah. We all have to be powerful enough to battle them, but with a good team strategy we can get them down quickly."

"Huh..." Arven pauses a bit. "Maybe you should introduce Nemona to them."

You laugh. "Maybe! Not yet though. I love Nemona, you know that, but she's...a lot... I kinda wanna keep at least one of'em to myself for the time being. At least for his own sake. Nemona would definitely scare him off."

Arven bristles, but you don't notice.

"Oh? ...Him? Who is this guy?"

"Haven't learned his name yet. He's really quiet. I don't think he quite knows our language well yet because when he speaks it's with a really thick Unovan accent. He's super strong though. He understands his pokemon really well. It's crazy impressive. He's got a huge dragon."

"Yeah, well, so do you." Arven retorts, sounding defensive. You stop.

"Yeah. I know. I was there. You gave him to me. Technically, I think the PokeBall is still registered to the professor. What's wrong?"

"Nothing, nothing," Arven replies, continuing along the path. "I guess I just don't get what's so great about this guy."

-

The next time you leave a crystal cave with the black electricity crackling around it, Arven seems to be in a foul mood.

"So did you see that Team Plasma guy again?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Well, you said he was Unovan."

"Are you being for real right now?" You laugh. "Just because he's Unovan doesn't mean he's a member of Team Plasma. C'mon. That's gotta be racist or something."

Arven huffs. "Well, did you ask?"

"What? If he was a member of a terrorist organization? No. I didn't."

"I'm just saying..." Arven grumbles, and you let it go for the time being.

-

It's a week or so before you run into the Unovan again, so this time you decide to ask him along to your exit to the cave. May as well, right? You more or less communicate with your rotom phone the desire to strategize and talk about pokemon, so he agrees. You offer your hand so as not to lose him in the trek out, and he follows you out into the light.

In hindsight, maybe offering your hand like that was a bad idea? Because waiting there at the entrance was Arven, and when he sees you with the Unovan, you feel like you've done something wrong, somehow.

You don't have a claim on Arven. You're not dating him, and he's not dating you. You're also not dating the Unovan. There's nothing to feel bad about, yet...

"Arven!" You call out to him before he has a chance to turn tail and leave. "I wanted to introduce you to that friend I was telling you about from the raids."

He stops and turns back to the two of you with an uncomfortable look.

You gesture to your new friend. "Arven, this is... Uh... N. Just N, right? I'm saying it right?"

N nods and holds his hand out to Arven. "Good day, I am charmed." He says with an exceedingly thick accent.

Arven narrows his eyes and tentatively shakes N's hand.

"Uh...Yeah. Hi."

"I told N we should do some team strategizing for different teratypes and invited him for lunch."

You feel like you can see the hair on Arven's head stand on edge like an angry maschiff "But I was going to make us lunch." He whispers to you in frustrated tones.

"I know, I know... I'm sorry, I didn't think I'd see him again, since there's no guarantee when these things happen. We can eat somewhere if you like. All three of us? My treat? I don't want to waste your good food."

That seems to calm him somewhat. "...Fine. But you're playing translator, too."

At the restaurant, Arven makes a show of being the one to sit next to you in the booth, which you don't particularly mind. Having him next to you will make it easier for you to swipe food off his plate without him noticing.

After you all get through ordering, you and N start the ordeal of figuring out how you'd best like to approach different teratype/regular type pokemon combinations.

Arven sits there, quietly stewing, unless he has something to offer by way of insight regarding typing related to his own team of Pokemon or Pokemon he faced in the wild that left a strong impression.

N meanwhile proves a little difficult to communicate with, even with translation devices. It's not his fault; just shortcomings of the technology. You all work through it as patiently and politely as you can (Arven a little less so, admittedly), and by the time the food arrives you think you might have a simple outline. Nothing crazy, but it's a start.

Arven's the one to break the subject from the raids. "So, uh. Why are you here? Why'd you leave Unova or wherever?" You give Arven a harsh look for the blunt question, but N only tilts his head and gestures to your phone, so you type in the question to your translator. Once he's had the chance to listen in his native language he thinks for a moment before responding.

"I love pokemon. I want to do good with pokemon and see how...people and pokemon can...live together good?" He phrases it like a question, you imagine, because his grammar isn't perfect, and he's aware of it.

"You couldn't do that at home?" He retorts.

"Arven!"

N holds up a hand, seeming to get the gist.

"Home is......hard. I need to learn for myself. Unova is different...culture."

You nod, understanding.

Arven sees that and speaks up. "Yeah, I've heard about how Unovans treat their Pokemon. Didn't you all literally have a terrorist group nearly wipe out your elite four and gym league or whatever?"

You kick Arven under the table, and N very visibly bristles.

"Team Plasma." He says in the Unovan language (Galarian? They're the same language, right? Fuck, Salvatore definitely taught you better than this), but you both get the gist. N opens his mouth again then closes it and moves to his phone to have it translate for him. "Plasmid Group brainwashed people of innocence. I do not agree with them. They are unfortunate recent history."

"See, Arven?" You scold. "What did I tell you?"

"Whatever..." Arven slumps down in the booth a bit.

From there, the meal continues on a bit awkwardly, but you and N are able to continue working through your plan. He seems surprisingly unbothered by Arven's attitude, so you just kinda let it go.

The meal ends without further incident, so you usher both men from the restaurant and back outside.

The three of you dawdle for a moment, and it's clear that Arven is very uncomfortable. N meanwhile seems to be none the wiser.

You break the silence. "So..."

Before you can continue, N pulls out a PokeBall and releases his dragon whose name you don't entirely remember. He climbs up on its neck while Arven blanches at your side.

N reaches out a hand to you. "You like to ride together?"

You look up at him incredulously, thinking about the possibility of getting on top of such a large pokemon. It's definitely a lot bigger than your usual ride around the region.

"Absolutely not," Arven interjects, getting between the two of you.

"A-Arven?!"

"Just... No. Okay?" He whispers to you without turning his face from N. "Please?"

You look up at N and slide your hand into Arven's. He squeezes it gratefully.

"Sorry, but no thank you. I'll see you at another raid?"

N shrugs, then perks up like he just had an idea, then lifts his phone. "Number change?"

"O-oh! Uh..." You look to Arven. He frowns but makes no other sign to stop you.

"Sure."

N tosses his phone down to you, and you plug your number in quickly and send yourself a text before tossing it back up.

N looks at his phone then back to you and smiles.

"Okay! Until another time!" Then he flies off with a wave that has yours and Arven's hair fluffing in the resulting wind.

Once the dust has settled, Arven breathes out a major sigh of relief.

"What was that?" You both ask at the same time

"What was what?" Again you jinx one another.

"That pokemon?!"

"That behavior?!"