#and interrogating yourself about why you accept something in one situation and not in another

[wrexie]

every time I log into this website and I see posts and I leave so angry. would it kill you people to start swapping out your premises to see if your conclusion no longer follows before you feel like you've made a point

[ms-demeanor]

You posted about adhd and I was hoping to follow up to clarify something. I’ve explained to my partner a million times about how the borderline-hoarding mess of his space is very mentally draining to me, and he understands but we’ve both essentially accepted he won’t clean his mess because he can’t because of his adhd. You’re saying he’s actually being a shit head?

This isn't necessarily an issue of him being a shithead, but it also isn't a sustainable situation. It's not good for you and there's a level of clutter that's probably not good for him either.

Large bastard is a lot more clutter-y than I am. The solution we've come to is trying to keep our messes at least isolated from one another; he can have his messes and I can have mine, but he can have those messes in his spaces, not all over the place. Sometimes those messes migrate, and that's when it's important for him to make the effort to rein them in rather than trying and failing to make a daily effort to keep our entire shared space tidy.

I think when you say "we've both essentially accepted he won't clean his mess" what I'm hearing is resignation; you're not happy about this but you don't know what to do so you've thrown up your hands and he feels helpless and unsure of what to do to improve the situation. This is the kind of "it's fine" that isn't really fine.

I think it would be worthwhile for you to each separately think about the mess and talk about it together. Are there areas that YOU *need* to have not-messy? Both for utility and your mental health? Are there areas where you can tolerate more mess than otherwise? Are there areas that are going to be harder for him to keep the mess out of than others? Are there things he doesn't *know* about cleaning up the mess?

I'm obviously a big "communication communication communication" person so I'm going to recommend a lot of talking about stuff, which is probably going to mean a lot of thinking about and interrogating stuff. I'm going to say "talk to him about why the mess bothers you" which means you also have to really articulate to yourself why the mess bothers you (for instance I'm not actually *bothered* by a messy kitchen, but I know it's going to reflect badly on us - and me specifically b/c of presumed gender roles - if someone pops by and the kitchen is a disaster, AND a messy kitchen is going to be harder to use). Genuinely, sometimes knowing *why* something is a problem might make it easier for someone with ADHD to do something. And it's not that he doesn't care that it upsets you, it's just that "Oh if I don't wash my breakfast dishes Anon won't have clear counterspace to make lunch" might be stickier in his brain (and less hard to look at emotionally) than "this thing I forget to do upsets my partner so I should do it."

For the record, I think that people with ADHD should read up on Demand Avoidance and see if it might explain some of the issues that they have in their day-to-day life; I've seen some really unfortunate situations with friends where trying to do things that their partner needed became the subject of demand avoidance. *I* have experienced negative outcomes of demand avoidance. The solution to that, however, isn't to stop making attempts to do the thing OR to simply try harder to do as they're asked/told (which reinforces the demand), it's to work on setting up a situation where the partners' needs are not interpreted as a demand. This is fuck-off difficult and requires a lot of patience and care and many attempts to succeed and will be different for each person and relationship.

(Also for the record demand avoidance isn't *super* strongly linked to ADHD and it's not a definitive symptom; like Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria, it is something that occurs in some number of people with ADHD and can be a useful lens through which to examine various behaviors; you don't need to have DA or RSD to have ADHD, and having DA or RSD also doesn't invalidate your diagnosis; they're symptoms. For me, DA often feels like "if I don't look at it, it can't get me" - If I ignore all the messages I've got they aren't real and don't have real consequences so I'll just ignore my texts. If I don't look at the vendor email about the order, the problem with the order isn't real and it won't get added to my task list. If I don't look at the requests in my inbox I can't let people down when I don't do them. It's a self-protective coping mechanism but it's *maladaptive* and I can't just ignore the vendor email or all my texts. I need to work on a way of doing the stuff that I'm avoiding in a way that makes it less stressful and doesn't hurt the people relying on me. That takes a lot of effort, personal insight, trial and error, and )

But before I dive into specifics I want to be really really clear about one thing: sometimes people are simply incompatible. Sometimes one person has such a low tolerance for "mess" and the other person has such a high threshold for "mess" that it can't be reconciled. It sucks that this can end up being a thing that people break up over, but it is MUCH better to acknowledge incompatibility as early as possible instead of spending years and years building resentment.

There used to be a great forum called MiL's Anonymous that I spent a lot of time on. It had a lot of people in a lot of difficult situations struggling to get by and hold their relationships together. The question that was used as a litmus test to approach each situation was simple: If you knew today that everything about living with this person would be the same in five years, would you stay?

Because you can't control your partner. You can't control the future. You can only control yourself and your proximity to situations that are harmful to you. If you knew, 100%, that things wouldn't get better in five years, would you be okay with staying in this relationship? If the answer is "no," then that's that. Don't worry about questions of whether or not your boyfriend is a shithead, start the process of ending the relationship because there's a good chance the situation is going to be exactly the same in five years.

If the answer is "yes," and you'd stay in the relationship regardless of whether or not things changed, then it's time to take actions to improve your life within the context of the relationship.

(No judgement on that yes or no, btw. If you would hate living like this for another five years, and you would feel like you'd wasted your time and hadn't done the things you wanted to with your life, get out. Bail. Go. It will be better for you and better for your partner if you split instead of spending half a decade building resentments and and problems that you'll have to spend another half a decade healing from.)

Also, a note: you describe your boyfriend's mess as borderline hoarding - is the issue *mess* or is the issue *clutter*? I have friends who are very tidy, but whose homes are very cluttered. They like things, they have many things, they keep many things around, but their houses are always clean and well-dusted and orderly, just with a tremendous amount of *stuff.* I am addressing all of this as though the issue is mess, not clutter. If your boyfriend's situation is clutter (the space is busy and packed with things but it is functional and clean) and your issue isn't with *mess* (things out of place, things not having a place, things that need to be cleaned up gathering in stacks, falling behind on regular chores like laundry and dishes and taking out the trash) then you definitely need to assess whether or not you are compatible.

For instance here's a room that is messy but not cluttered compared to a room that is cluttered but not messy:

That first room is a *mess* but it would be very easy to clean up in under an hour. The second room is fairly tidy, but would take significant effort to pare down and declutter. BOTH of these can be difficult to live with but the second one is not dangerous or threatening to anyone's health. (The second one is QUITE cluttered and if every room in a house looks like this it can be overwhelming to live with; this is actually harder to deal with in a relationship than the first one in a lot of ways. I don't have a lot of advice for what to do if your partner is a high degree of tidy-but-cluttered because I don't actually think it's a problem or wrong to have thousands of books or bins full of lego or a million kitchen appliances as long as you have the space and can keep it safe and well-maintained; this is a really significant compatibility issue)

Okay, all that out of the way, here's the hard work.

Talk about this shit

Talk to your partner and define "mess." Make sure you are on the same page about what you mean when you're talking about what a messy room looks like versus what a tidy room looks like. Gather reference pictures. DRAW reference pictures.

Explain not just that the mess upsets you, but *why* and *how* it upsets you. In this context don't think of it as your boyfriend's mess, think of it as an unpleasant roommate. Discuss this using "I-statements". "When I have to pick up laundry all over the apartment, I feel like a parent more than a partner." "When there are piles of miniatures all over the table, I feel like I don't have anywhere to do things I'm interested in." "When there are dishes in the sink, I feel frustrated because I have to clean before I can feed myself."

Discuss, frankly and openly, whether he knows how to clean. I'm not trying to make excuses for him here but a lot of people with ADHD have a lot of stress and avoidance around cleaning because they spent a lot of time getting yelled at for not knowing how to clean properly.

Discuss your needs, be firm about what you require but willing to compromise. You *need* some spaces to be clean, and some spaces may be harder for him to keep clean than others. It may be MUCH harder for him to keep a bedroom tidy than it is to keep a kitchen tidy; if you need a clean and empty bedroom with everything put away and he simply cannot do that, that is a compatibility issue. But perhaps you need *your* side of the bedroom to be very orderly and can tolerate a moderate level of mess and clutter on his side. Maybe you're really really bothered by a messy kitchen, but it doesn't bug you if the dining table is covered with projects and papers. Figure out something more workable than "his mess goes everywhere and i live with it because he's incapable of cleaning" because he probably is not incapable of cleaning and you deserve to have places in your home that are comfortable for you.

Reduce friction for cleaning

Sometimes the problem isn't cleaning, the problem is the many many steps before cleaning, or not knowing where something should go when you are done cleaning. One of the absolute best things I've done for myself for cleaning my space is getting a broom holder and mounting the broom to the wall. Sweeping is now essentially thoughtless. I don't have to find the broom or pull it out from a pile of fans or go scrounging around for a dustpan it's right there on the wall, frictionless. So here are some ways to reduce the barriers to cleaning:

Make sure you and your partner both know how to use your cleaning supplies and know where those supplies are. When I switched dishwasher soap I had to re-show Large Bastard where I was storing it and how it was used, because to him what happened was the dishwasher tabs just vanished one day and he didn't know what I was putting in the machine or the process I used. He sometimes puts tools away in places that I can't see (he's more than a foot taller than me) so sometimes I can't get started on a maintenance project until he shows me where he put the battery pack for the drill.

Consider making a how-to chart to or having him make a how-to chart to keep someplace accessible so he can reference it while cleaning. Goblin.Tools Magic ToDo is great for this. Basically a lot of the time people with ADHD have trouble knowing what to do from step to step even if they've done something before, so having a step by step guide can make it easier (I have notebooks full of step-by-step guides for everything from paying for my tuition to removing licenses for my customers to weeding my yard)

Remove obstacles; don't keep cleaning chemicals in the garage in a box that's behind a stack of parts, keep them in the room you'll be cleaning. Don't keep the cleaning supplies that you use to clean the bathroom in the kitchen. Sometimes this means buying two bottles of bleach solution and two scrubbers and two sets of cleaning gloves but having fewer steps (fetch the windex, fetch the paper towels, fetch the gloves) is often the key to getting things done (open under-sink cabinet and grab windex, gloves, and paper towels that are there instead of in the kitchen).

This sort of overlaps with the next category, which is:

Create Dump Zones

One thing that I've found that seems very different between people with ADHD cleaning and neurotypical people cleaning is that neurotypical people are good at getting to a point where the cleaning is "done." They have checked off their tasks and they have finished and it is over. There are *SOME* chores that are like this (taking out the trash is a binary state, the trash has been taken out or it has not) and some chores are perpetual (horrid cursed dishes) but I think with people with ADHD, some chores that are binary for neurotypicals are actually perpetual chores. For instance "clean off the counter" is not a one and done for me. "Clean off the counter" may involve a three day reorganization project. "Clean off the counter" does not mean "wipe down the tile and put dishes away" it means assessing whether or not I need to make vegetable stock and bleaching three tea containers and reconsidering whether or not the sharps container should live somewhere else and going through the mail and figuring out what needs to be responded to and taking out the recycling and on and on and on.

We have had company at the house for the last two weeks, so I asked large bastard to clean off the dining room table, which is largely a project zone for him. Cleaning off the dining room table meant putting away his meds (and since he's a transplant patient that involves a 30 gallon rubbermade tote), throwing away some trash, and totally reorganizing his workshop. It also incidentally involved picking up a table from facebook marketplace and moving my plants, which has now involved moving my former plant rack outside (moving buckets, finding and organizing planters and gardening tools) and taking the former table to the thrift store (not done yet) and cleaning the rug that was under the former table. So "either the table is clean, or it isn't" isn't really true for us.

HOWEVER "hang on we can't eat until the table is clear so let's drive to Pico Rivera to get that console table right now" isn't a workable plan, so you create dumpzones as areas of holding between the start and the finish of the chore.

A dump zone can be a laundry basket. It can be a craft bin. It can be a back room or under your bed. It is a place to put things that you are going to deal with later because if you deal with them now it is going to derail the thing you are actually trying to do, which is set the table for dinner.

Dump zones are vital to cleaning with ADHD and I recommend them for day-to-day cleaning as well. The day-to-day dump zones might be more for you than for your boyfriend. For instance, Large Bastard works with bullets and he sheds bullets all over the house. I used to get stressed when I found bullets when I was cleaning because are these work bullets? Are these recreational bullets? Are they in testing? Do they need to be pulled? Do they go in the workshop or the office or the garage or does he need these today so they have to stay on the counter? And the answer now is "that's not my problem naughty bullets go in the jar." Which is perfectly sensible because he gets to say "mystery yarn goes in the bin" and "art supplies go in the bucket."

I feel helpless when cleaning a lot of the time. I'm frustrated and lost and I don't know where stuff goes and everything I pick up spins off into three projects in my head and every step feels like a wall to scale. Dump zones help me with that when there's pressure or a reason for cleaning beyond day to day home maintenance. People are coming over? The bedroom is a dump zone, I'll deal with that later. I'm just cleaning up because I need to? Okay I can find a permanent home for this new dish soap.

AS A VERY IMPORTANT COROLLARY TO THIS:

Active projects do not go in dump zones while you or your partner are cleaning. This may mean designating a project sanctuary area like a corner of the table or one particular chair in your main room where a project can be placed so as not to be disturbed. (if my current crochet project ends up in the yarn bin, that may mean that I don't pick the project up for another three months, it lives on the windowsill behind the couch because that's where it'll get worked on)

Do not put things away for your partner, put them in the dump zone for your partner. Your partner has to be the one to put their own stuff away in a way that works for them. I tend to find that this naturally puts a limit on the time stuff sits in the dump zone, because eventually you'll go "hey where's my thing?" and will put stuff away. If that doesn't happen, it's still generally better to have stuff in a dump zone than all over the home.

Do not decide you know what things go together from your partner's stuff and try to "put like things together." The neurotypical urge to put like things together is the mindkiller(j/k). You do not know which things are "similar" in your partner's organization schema and attempting to organize things on your own is going to end up with all of the things "organized" being functionally lost forever from your partner's perspective. Large Bastard's mom would do this and it was infuriating, she'd say "oh I put all the electronics stuff in one box" and she would mean soldering irons, transistors, ham radios, HDMI cables, and cellphone chargers. We are *still* going through boxes of stuff that she "tidied up" when he was hospitalized in 2020 and 2021.

To prevent the need for quite so many dump zones over time, you can work on setting up landing zones and "homes" for projects and tools.

Landing Zones

Landing zones are places where things go when you come inside from doing various things. Sometimes your landing zone only needs to be a tray for your wallet and keys, sometimes your landing zone needs to be a place to take off muddy boots and put a trowel and gloves down before you shower.

To make an effective landing zone, consider what behaviors you're trying to minimize and whether the people using it are ACTUALLY going to use it. For instance I was tired of the corner of my hearth getting cluttered with random junk so I hung up some hooks and put a shelf and a basket there and it became a really effective landing zone for my bag and keys and the mail, but it was VERY ineffective for Large Bastard because it's by a door that isn't the primary door he uses to enter the house. As a result I always know where my keys and bag are but he has trouble finding his keys and wallet. He tends to enter the house through our bedroom and has an overloaded valet next to the door and that's usually where his wallet ends up. Mounting a shelf to the wall above the valet and putting a basket and a hook on it will be a better place for his stuff to land. It's not that he's not using the first zone because he doesn't know that it's there, or because he doesn't care about lost time when I'm searching for my car keys after he borrows them, he's not using it because it's not by the door he uses. That's all.

I have a landing space for when I come in for gardening that's different than the one when I come in from grocery shopping. I have a landing space for when I walk into the dining room instead of the kitchen when I get home.

Landing spaces prevent stuff from piling up all over the place because they are a limited functional space that should be used frequently. Mail ONLY goes in the landing zone. If you have mystery mail or if you're not sure it's safe to toss, you put it in the landing zone. You can't let the mail get piled up too high or you won't have a space for your keys. You can't let the change in your wallet tray get too deep or your wallet is going to slide off, etc., but you also don't just put change on the coffee table or your nightstand because the landing zone is right there.

Homes for items are just what they sound like. They're the place the item goes. It lives there. My meds live on my nightstand. You would not believe how poorly I did with taking my meds on my vacation because they weren't on my nightstand. A while back large bastard lost one of his sets of sorted meds and we tore the house up looking for them because he couldn't find them in his nightstand, which is where they live. *I* found them in his nightstand because I emptied out the entire top drawer (he had only looked on the top layer) and found them underneath a radio and a hammock. Even though they were *hidden* they were in their home, so they were findable. I recently needed ink for an art class. Art supplies live in a dresser by my desk. Ink lives in the art bin or the top left drawer. The ink was not in either of these places (it was on a cabinet in the dining room behind a teacup) so it took me weeks to find it.

Sometimes the reason that ADHD spaces are so messy is because objects have been assigned homes in places that are visible and if they get moved they get lost. This is a genuinely difficult problem that requires a lot of effort to solve and can involve a lot of trial and error for creating a tidy living space. For some people, open shelving and visible storage might be a good solution. For some people, assigning a VERY clear home and inculcating that location by habit is the only way to clean up a space. For some people one very cluttered corner to at least isolate the chaos does the trick (for me and large bastard open shelving doesn't work because anything in one place for too long becomes invisible; that means that I rely on assigning things homes and large bastard relies on having contained chaos and a general idea of where to search but what that DOES NOT mean is that he is clean or tidy. His spaces look like an explosion. But he can mostly find his stuff and do what he needs to do and as long as that's limited to specific places in shared spaces I can live with it; the dining room table can be a disaster, the kitchen cannot).

People organize things differently. It often takes a while for neurotypical adults to settle into an organizational style that works for them and ADHD adults may need to settle into a new system every few months for it to continue working. The cleanup and declutter is most likely going to be a permanent project that is always going to demand some level of attention from everyone in a shared space, but "my ADHD means I can't do it" is not really going to fly. Maybe his ADHD means that he can't keep his space tidy, but it doesn't mean you can't move stuff from shared spaces into dump zones or that he can't do stuff around the house.

If he's insisting that his ADHD means that he can't clean it is possible that he's not being a shithead, he just feels helpless and doesn't know where to start and has adopted the belief that he's a useless piece of shit who can't even keep a tidy space like a grownup because he's internalized a lot of shitty attitudes (hello, my internal monologue about keeping a clean house). But it's also possible that he's just being a shithead.

It's something that's worthwhile to investigate with him. If he's unwilling to make an attempt, then he's being a shithead.

It is also not your responsibility to rehabilitate another person. If he wants to clean and it's something he feels bad about and needs some help and support with the way that someone might need help or support for learning to use a mobility aid, that is fine but you don't have to be the one who gives him that support if it's detrimental to your health, and you don't have to be the one to teach him that stuff if it's not something you're capable of. And if he is NOT interested in working on making your shared living space more accessible for you, that is not your suitcase to unpack and you just have to ask yourself the question from the start: would I stay with this person if I knew the situation was never going to change?

IDK, I'm sure a lot of this reads like "anon you must take on the emotional labor of training your partner to be an adult" but it's really meant to be more of a way of assessing yourself and your relationship. If you created landing zones do you think he'd use them? Would he get angry if you assigned a laundry basket as a dump zone for his stuff while you tidy the living room? Is living with him long-term going to be comfortable for you if nothing changes? Do you have enough of a shared definition of "mess" that you're at least in the ballpark for what counts as a clean house?

anyway good luck, and a reminder to folks that I'm compiling a bunch of adhd resources and other information on my personal website, ms-demeanor.com. It's coming along slowly but it will eventually include stuff like ADHD cleaning tips and how to tackle a hoard, so maybe keep your eye on that space.

[shibaincubus]

How to stop being a doormat.-

-> . . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋ [By a healed people pleaser] ࿐ྂ

Being nice to others is not a bad trait, but becoming THE NICE GIRL is.

Excessive people pleasing brings you nowhere and makes you vulnerable to becoming a doormat, disrespect, and sacrificing yourself.

People pleasing isn’t just about being nice to everyone all the time; it actually messes with your head and how you think about yourself deep down. 

We can look at people pleasing from an conscious and subconscious side.

Conscious People pleasing

This is what we typically associate with people pleasing:

You can't say no: Every request feels like an obligation.

You prioritize others over yourself: Your needs take a backseat.

You apologize for everything: Even when it’s unnecessary.

You avoid conflicts: Peace at any cost, right?

You make yourself small: Shrinking your presence to fit in.

Subconscious people pleasing

This is the impact people pleasing has on your mindset and behaviours

While breaking people pleasing one should focus here more

Servant mindset -> catering to others drains your energy.

Emulating others ->  You lose sight of who you truly are.

Seeking validation: "I need to be ... to get validation 'love' from others

Ignoring your feelings: Suppressing your emotions to keep the peace.

Feeling judged: Worrying about what others think of you.

Anxiousness about acceptance: "Do they really like me?"

The Why of People pleasing

The first step in breaking free is understanding why you engage in people pleasing.

Here are some common reasons:

You might be people pleasing because of...

Anxiety: fear of disappointing others or rejection

Low self esteem: "pleasing others is the only way to get acceptance and love"

Past trauma: can link others' needs to safety and affection

Cultural or family expectations: Pressure from those around you.

Perfectionism:  The need to be flawless in the eyes of others.

Insecurity: Doubting your own worthiness.

Avoidance of Conflict: Preferring peace over confrontation.

To get the exact cause you should also utilise journaling.

Use 15 min. for three or more of these journaling prompts each

Does People pleasing really help me? How do I feel when I please people? Happy or drained?

Do I get something back by pleasing people. Is it one sided?

What is my earliest memory of people pleasing? Why did I decide to please people at that time?

How do I perceive the people that I please in reality? Do I even like them.

What is the thing I really want in this situation that I might feel too scared, vulnerable, or ashamed to ask for?

What is one thing that I'm scared people will think of me, and how is this actually true and useful for me?

What do I want to change about my people pleasing habit

This reflection makes it clear why we do it and what caused people pleasing to be ingrained in us in the first place.

Recovering from People pleasing

Start small.-

Begin by setting boundaries in low stakes situations

declining invitations to events etc.

declining requests that you don't have time or desire to do

Gradually work yourself up to more significant situations practicing assertiveness along the way.

Learn to tolerate discomfort

Recognise that asserting yourself and setting boundaries may initially feel uncomfortable or cause anxiety

Embrace the discomfort as a sign of growth and remind yourself that it's necessary to prioritize your own well being.

Strengthen your sense of self

When we are people pleasing we are placing our self worth on another person

With journaling, self care, setting personal goals and new hobbies, you can construct and identity independent of others opinions.

The Intention Interrogation

Ask yourself a specific question before agreeing to a request:

"Am I doing this because I genuinely want to, or because I'm afraid of potential consequences?" 

This can delay automatic people pleasing reflexes

Cut toxic people off

If someone is using you for their gain, it’s time to create distance.

Limit your availability and emotional investment

Create space between yourself and toxic relationships

And Trust your instincts

The 24-Hour Rule

Make it a commitment to not immediately respond to requests.

Give yourself a full day and then decide if you actually want to do this.

Get therapy

If people pleasing has a deep impact socially or otherwise on you consider therapy

It's really helpful against people pleasing if nothing else helps

That's it lovelies

People pleasing is a destructive social mechanism of ours that we developed in young years.

Unfolding these behaviours and taking a stance against pleasing others frees ourself for positive change and levelling ourselves up

[kkayyerr]

Hii can I request a rafe c little!reader when he is talking to some girl but reader gets jealous. You don’t have to write it if you don’t want to 💕

The only one.

Summary: Rafe is talking to the Kiara and little!reader getting very jealous and hurt.

Warnings: Age regression, angst, jealousy, fluff in the end.

Author’s note: Rafe is more soft in this one because it isn’t the early seasons Rafe that I’m usually writing about.

Since the very start of your relationship, you knew that Rafe hated all the Pogues. His only exception was you; he excepted you and was still dealing with excepting your lifestyle. So of course you were more than shocked when you saw him talking to another Pogue, and you were even more surprised when you found out that it was Kiara. As you knew, they never liked each other, so why was he standing there, smiling at her? You didn’t even want to know. The only thing that you knew is that you were unhappy about this, and when you were regressed and unhappy, it meant that Rafe might ended up running to the store to buy you something that will be accepted as an apology and would make that pouty look go away from your pretty face. 

However, today you didn’t want anything. You didn’t need new plushies or some sweets; you just wanted to make sure that he wouldn’t trade you for another girl, because even thoughts of it were making you anxious. You start sucking on your thumb, trying to calm yourself down, but thoughts were only getting louder.

You left the beach and went home without letting Rafe know, ignoring his calls as he was probably going crazy thinking that something bad might’ve happened to you. And it did, but this time Rafe was the one who hurt you instead of being your protector. As you got home, you went straight to your room, covering yourself with your favorite blanket. You were overwhelmed by all the thoughts and memories that had popped up in your head.

Rafe sweared that he won’t leave you no matter what, but that’s what they all had said, right? 

Maybe you just became too much and he decided to finally break free from you and your regression; maybe you finally became a burden to him. Tears streamed down your face, and you were trying to quiet your sniffles by hiding your face in the pillow when suddenly you heard someone entering the room, loudly shutting the door. 

 

„What have I told you about always telling me where you are, hm?”

 

Rafe was angry, probably even furious with your behavior. He probably thought that you were just being stupid and irresponsible, ignoring his words as always. He ripped off the blanket from you when he saw something that he wasn’t expected to see at all. You were lying there, your face all puffy, strings of tears on your red cheeks. 

 

„Baby, what happened? Did someone hurt you?”

 

Rafe asked quickly, trying to make you look at him by softly touching your arm, but you slapped his hand right away, pointing your little finger at him. 

 

„You.”

 

You mumbled, making Rafe’s face expression turn from worried to confused. He didn’t do anything to hurt you today; he was trying to not hurt you at all. What could he've possibly done to make you this upset? His heart ached just from the thought of being the one who makes you cry like that. He actually had no ideas, and the only way to find out was talking about it with you. Gently.

 

„How exactly did I make you feel so bad, little one?”

 

His voice was not only softer but also quieter. He didn’t want to make you even more overwhelmed, loudly interrogating you with his questions. You finally stood up from where you were laying, still looking upset but more cooperative.

 

„Do you like Kiara?”

 

You asked, ignoring his question but basically answering it anyway. Rafe’s face finally brightened up, and he gave you a small, soft smile, also getting up from the bed. Rafe was relieved when you finally told him why you were so upset. The situation wasn’t so bad after all, and he had a chance to explain himself. He wanted to hold you in his arms, or at least put you on his lap and keep you close to him, until all those stupid thoughts won’t go away. He wanted you to know just how much he needed you. Though he knew that he needed to explain himself to you first. 

 

„No, baby. I don’t like her at all. She was afraid of me a little bit, and you were always telling me not to terrorize people, so I wanted to make sure that she wasn’t taking your Daddy for a bad guy anymore.”

 

After he had said that, you finally let him touch your arm. His fingers were caressing your skin in a soothing manner, while you gave him a soft smile back. All those thoughts about you being a useless burden finally disappeared when you saw his loving glare. Well, he definitely wasn’t looking at Kiara that way. 

 

„You’re the only one for me, and everything I do is for us, baby.”

 

Rafe said, pulling you in his arms and sighing with relief when cuddled up to him instead of breaking free from his embrace, even though he deserved that for not letting you know about his plans with the Pogues. He kissed your head gently, making sure that you are feeling loved and important, even though it was extremely hard for him to say that to you out loud.

 

„Don’t talk to that bitch anymore.”

 

His eyes widened at your words. He wasn’t used to you swearing, especially in the littlespace, because he was teaching you manners and not to repeat bad words after him or anyone else. He opened his mouth to call you out on it, but you quickly covered it with your hand, giving him a sly smile.

 

„Shh, Daddy. No whining.”

 

Well, it looks like his talking privilege was just taking away. 

Taglist: @tinylilacbun @rafecameronsloverrrrr @aew-regression-cove

[archivalofsins]

Addendum (September 23, 2024 5:03pm )- It was brought to my attention by a concerned friend inquiring if something had happened yesterday that this post can come off as complaining about a fandom issue of some sort. Because of how often "Don't be like x" (in particularly Futa) has been used in regards to ongoing Milgram fandom incidents.

It was not my intention to invoke those sort of alarming past experiences for anyone that may have come across this post. My intentions when writing this were to interrogate the prevalence of that phrasing when it came to Futa as a character while including the prisoner paired with him known for bullying as well.

To put it in a plain and jovial way- These are my feelings in regards to this topic in a meme format,

Since I have now been informed of how emotionally disruptive this phrasing can be given the things it's been associated with in the past at least within the tumblr Milgram community I will be putting it under a cut with one more addendum further down that uses the same phrasing.

Once again saying to not be like Mu.

It's easy for individuals to understand why they shouldn't be like Futa. In a lot of ways, not many people would see their actions as being similar to his even when they are. This is why I stress not to be like Mu either.

Because it seems to me that a lot of people are comfortable with being bullies as long as they convince themselves they were the victim first.

A trait that's present throughout both Futa and Mu's narratives. Even if not many people recognize how emotionally manipulative, insidious, and abusive this sort of behavior is socially.

Because just like with these two, some will convince themselves it's the other parties fault for doing something wrong first.

That the person who did something wrong should just,

"You apologize if you do something wrong, you learn that even before words, don't you?"

Q.09 Do you want to apologise to the person you killed?

Mu: I think the person who did something wrong first should apologise first.

These two are simply not as different as some fans like to tell themselves. They are both reactionary bullies. Just because one goes on offense (attacks) and the other defense (cries/deflects) doesn't make one any better than the other. That's why they both got into codependent relationships with another prisoner over the first trial intermission.

Both Amane and Haruka provide them with something. Giving Futa and Mu hope and help in a difficult situation. Along with something to do with themselves to prove their own worth. They also both took on a naturing and protective role in Amane and Haruka's lives. Making the other their main priorities as of the second trial.

23/07/05 (Mu’s Birthday)

Futa: Oi, you. Is he ok? He’s not even left his room lately.

Mu: You mean Haruka-kun? Hmm. Yeah, probably. I’ve been bringing all his meals to him so he should be fine. Isn’t that great of me?

Futa: Hah? Who the hell says that sort of thing about themself. ……ah, no, well, right now I understand a bit. When you’re feeling down, it’s nice to have someone who relies on you and accepts you. The rest of us can’t really understand you from where we’re standing. But well, if you’re Haruka’s “salvation” then I guess it really is great.

Mu: Salvation……? I don’t know what you mean. Futa-kun, you don’t sound like yourself. Did you hit your head or something? Oh, wait, you actually did, didn’t you. Ahaha. Ah, putting that aside though, did you know it’s my birthday today?

Q.02 What do you think of Haruka?

Futa: I can’t afford to be worrying about other people at the moment. Anyway, he’s not a little kid.

This is also why one of my first posts discussed them together. They were both even abandoned by their groups,

"Everyone else was having fun, weren't they? What about them?! Why is it just me?!"

Q.18 Do you regret anything?

Mu: I think maybe I should have chosen my friends a bit more carefully.

Q.11 Who do you want to see right now?

Mu: I miss my friends too. But most of all, Papa and Mama.

Yeah, don't be like either of them, actually.

This is not a healthy thing to strive for. The only difference between them is that Futa takes the orders, and Mu gives them. Aptly portrayed in the relationships they've formed over the course of Milgram.

Also, a bully is a bully regardless of if they cry about it. Women have been weaponizing crying for decades. Stop pretending like this is a brand new undiscovered form of manipulation it's not.

Addendum (September 23, 2024 5:03pm ) continued: Also it was not intent to specifically call to attention Mu's characters flaws or take any digs at people who relate to her. Saying things like don't be like x character can be inconsiderate towards individuals who relate to that character a lot especially if it's something done on a consistent enough basis.

These are once again my feelings on that in meme format.

[dragonmasterhiccup]

(🥲🥲yours is too! I can't wait for what's about to happen here...lol)

Knowing she wasn't the only one who struggled with the whole topic of..emotions, the defensive guard in her that was already tumbled down was definitely even more non-existent around Hiccup. He showed another side to her that she didn't ever think she'd see, and she was grateful he was open and willing enough to even share those things with her; she wanted to handle it carefully, since she wasn't any professional either when it came to it. "...Please..don't hide those feelings in, Hiccup. I don't want you to crumble underneath the weight of..everything. I think we both need time to accept all that's happened today.."

Freya nodded at his suggestion, a new warmth springing up within her at the realization that they would help each other in that area more. "You just met your mom after 20 years, so those things are to be expected... But if it does come again later, I'll be there by your side to get you through that; can't have you all by yourself if it happens... So, yes, we can work on it..." She pointedly looked at him, conveying that she meant what was being said. "Together."

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

Valka gazed at her son with all the motherly love and affection that she hadn't known she'd been keeping in, not wanting to cause him any extra pain as she confessed that she wasn't coming with them just yet. "I will, I promise... Just, give me a little bit of time... I'll be sure to return when I'm ready, which won't be another twenty years.." She added the last part in an attempt to show that she was serious, but also not to sound so..disheartening.

Noticing Hiccup rubbing her hand again, a flicker of a smile formed on Freya's lips, finding the action soothing. It also told her that he didn't mind it, her holding his hand, and it sparked the weird, fluttery feeling to steadily come back to make itself welcomed in her. Even if it was as small as something like what they were doing now, she hoped all the same that it brought him a little relief from the situation.

Nodding, Valka faintly smiled. "Yes, and when we see each other, perhaps I could take you to the dragon sanctuary for a new...experience..!"

Freya, hearing his words, focused in on his eyes once more, acknowledging how the color eased her nerves; all the while ignoring the urge to close the distance between them. "...Good, cause I don't wanna watch him being carried like this often.."

It relieved her that Hiccup would tell Fishlegs about the wing, his reassurance that Blaze would fly also allowing her heart to calm down from starting to beat faster due to her anxiousness. "..Thank you." She paused, resisting from grabbing his hand like they did earlier. "For everything."

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

Not wanting to give off the impression that she was panicking in a similar way to their previous walk, she kept her forehead resting on his back, her arms that were wrapped around him during the flight loosening slightly to make herself more comfortable. "I just...never would've thought that we'd be coming home with your mother following us on a giant Stormcutter, with Blaze in his current..predicament.."

Freya turned to let her cheek lean on his back now. "Do you need to talk about anything, though? I'm, uh.. I'm still wondering if you were gonna tell Stoick about this whole thing..." After a moment, she spoke in an encouraging tone: "Whatever happens, remember I'm right here..if you need the extra support.."

It was quiet for a little bit, until she suddenly froze, blinking at an abrupt realization that struck her mind. "Oh, geez..." She muttered, 'hiding' her face behind his neck as she barely registered some of his hair practically brushing against hers. "I just remembered... My dad is probably gonna interrogate us on why we were gone all day..." Lightly sighing, she pushed away the assumptions of Ragnar possibly getting too angry. "Don't worry, I'll explain to him...but we won't have to mention Valka...or, at least give her an exact identity to who she is.."

Avoiding her gaze, he nodded. He couldn't make any promises, but he could try. Pouring himself into a project or just dragons in general was just...so much easier. Emotions needed to be processed, and it could take time. Time that Hiccup didn't always have the patience for.

Finally looking back at her, "I can try. Old habits...they're hard to break...but, I don't want to crumble, either..."

"Thank you. Even if my dad was the type that I could talk to about these things...I can't, not about something like this. Knowing that I have you..." He gave a slight nod, "it's...let's just say, it's something I won't forget, and...it means a lot."

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

Giving a lopsided smile, he said to Valka, "I should hope not. Who knows what can happen in twenty years?" Pausing, he became more serious, "In all honesty... I'm glad our paths crossed today. I do wish it was under better circumstances, but...this changes everything."

At the suggestion of seeing the dragon sanctuary, Hiccup perked up, looking at Freya and silently asking her if she'd want to join. With a gentle squeeze of her hand, he faced his mom again. "That, that sounds great!"

"No, I'm sure you don't...I wouldn't either, if it were Toothless..." Watching your dragon be unable to fly...it was difficult.

At her thanks, he locked eyes with her, the corners of his mouth tugging upwards ever so slightly. "Of course. I just...wish I could do more."

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

Feeling her grip loosen, he instantly knew that she wasn't feeling the same as she had in the woods. It was a relief, to say the least. After the day they've had, he wasn't sure how well he'd take it if she panicked again.

Not that he'd react badly, moreso what it would do to his heart. He learned today that it ached when he saw Freya in any kind of distress.

"It certainly wasn't what I expected, either..." Holding himself back from placing one of his hands over hers, he tightened his grip on the handles of Toothless' saddle. "I'm not sure how we could've gotten Blaze home without her help...I guess we could've made a raft, had Toothless pull it..." Was he rambling? "but, that's beside the point..."

At her comment, he shook his head. "I can't tell dad...not until mom is ready for him to know...though that will be quite the conversation..." Would Stoick be angry with him as well?

Hearing her support, he finally allowed himself to place his hand over hers. "I appreciate that. I won't forget... I might just need a little time..."

"What is it?"

The mention of Ragnar made him freeze as well, a bad feeling churning in the pit of his stomach. "Oh gods, you're right...yeah, it's uh, it's best to keep Mom a secret for now, we don't need any pressure adding to her possible return..."

"I'll help you explain. It's my fault, we could've gone home sooner, I just...I had to know..."

[pagepainter]

Triggers

Lately I’ve just been trying to figure things out - my feelings, my thought process, the opinions I have of the world and of people. It’s been so draining, having to do all these at once. I want to take one thing at a time, but all of these aspects are interconnected, one way or another.

I haven’t been able to get the chance to step into my feelings and understand why I’m feeling the way I’m feeling, mainly because I’ve been trying to rationalize the situations at hand. I realize that I have a habit of suppressing my emotions, a process I do it so often it eventually becomes emotional repression - I did not realize (until recently) that whenever I feel upset, I’d automatically go onto social media because I want to avoid feeling what I’m feeling, I’d hang out with friends to forget the sadness and the pain, I’d go for a long run to vent my emotions, but these feelings just keep coming back. They never leave entirely. I hate to deal with them, but I realize that there’s no choice but to come face to face with them and find the root of the trigger because they’ve been affecting me mentally, more than I would have thought. Now I would just sit down and process my emotions, and identify what caused the trigger, why I get triggered, and what I should do to help me regulate my feelings.

I read somewhere in a post from Tumblr (or probably on another social media platform lol I feel like I have lost track of the source of information, it really shows how much screen time I spend on social media) that says something along the lines of ‘you’ll only start to change when you’re able to accept the hard truths that you received about yourself.’ There have been a lot of critiques I have received from the people I care about, and I’m not one to take critiques negatively, because I do appreciate these critiques to be pointed out to me so I can work on them and be more self-aware of my flaws, and I know that working on self-development is non-linear, some days can feel discouraging, while some days I feel like I see progress in myself, but it’s especially when I see myself falling back to square one, I can’t help but think why I’m brought up the way I was brought up, why I’m born into this family, why I’m brought up to think this way or that way. Is it a natural reflex, and I have not changed? Will I be able to change my mindset and make that change permanent, or would all these effort to change go down the drain? Would life have been easier if I was brought up in a more supportive family, brought up to have a more open mind and better mindset - being less judgmental, giving non-generalized statements, being more mature intellectually - would I have been able to handle life’s difficulties easier with that ‘better mindset’? Or would the problems be different, or probably difficult in an another aspect that challenges the hypothetically ‘better mindset’ that I wished I had?

I find that all of my own flaws lie in the way that I have been brought up, and the way that my parents and I handle arguments have formed the way that I now handle arguments. I hate conflict, so I would always try to avoid it. Whenever I need to get their permission for something (i.e, an outing or a book) I would always have to read their body language and infer from the tone they use towards me to gauge for myself whether it was the right moment to ask, and I have been subconsciously doing that for every single interaction I have with the people I care about. I get hesitant, I withdraw, I ponder over the thought so much I overthink about every single hypothetical consequence that could potentially result from just me asking. However, whenever an argument does surface, I realize that I would shut down, I would give very vague descriptions of situations when I’m placed under interrogation, and now I’ve become unclear and unspecific in my conversations, even when I am not arguing. I make assumptions just to be told that I should have asked to clarify to begin with. I’m carrying all these into my conversations with the people I care about, and I’m causing more conflict and hurt than comfort. It hurts me to see that I’m not giving them peace and comfort, but I’m adding to their burdens.

Whenever I get hurt or upset, I try not to show it, I don’t verbalize it, I suppress them, I become avoidant, my replies become shorter, more vague, and when it gets overwhelming, I burst and throw a tantrum, and things end up worse. I wasn’t given the space to process my emotions and talk out my feelings, every time it’s just shouts and yelling over one another to get each other’s points across. They listen to reply, they don’t listen to understand. Now I’ve learnt to verbalize my emotions, but it’s still hard. I get embarrassed and ashamed for feeling a certain type of way, but I’m getting better at it. It’s only fair to the other person for knowing how I am feeling because I wouldn’t want to create misunderstandings in the relationship. I can manage my anger better now, especially in the moment, because learning to be calm and collected helps me to make sound arguments, and logical ones too.

I’m taking steps to become the version I want to be, and progress isn’t linear, but I won’t give up. I think it’s best for me to just distance myself and work on myself until I have become that version I want to be so desperately. Hopefully by then, I’d be better at communicating and have a more mature mindset.

[hero-philia]

Soulmate AU: Feeling your soulmate’s strongest emotions

Headcanons for Bakugou, Todoroki, Midoriya, Kirishima, Mirio and Tamaki

A/N: Because you all enjoyed my take on the “Feeling your soulmate’s pain” AU so much, I thought I might write a little bit about another Soulmate AU! 

Today on the menu: Soulmates are capable of feeling each other���s emotions as if they were their own, if the emotion manifests strong enough (seething rage, disabling fear, thrilling excitement, etc.) - Feel free to request other AUs or send in your own headcanons!

Bakugou Katsuki

Before meeting him: 

Whatever had triggered the bond to be formed some day, you were facing one of the hardest weeks in your entire life until you figured out that your sudden resent of nearly everything and everyone was not an unexpected change of heart of yours. 

Most importantly you were asking yourself who ‘Deku’ was and why your mind was set on outdoing him. Sometimes it was quite frustrating as the most present emotion seemed to be his everlasting rage or hate towards people you didn't even know. 

All of the by then common feelings changed when your blood ran cold out of nowhere, your hands were shacking, you were sweating, everyone around you made you uneasy - As if you were waiting to be attacked any given second. You later learnt this was the day he had gotten kidnapped by the League of Villains.

In return, Bakugou tended to roll his eyes as soon as he felt random happiness wash over him. Deep down he was glad that you were doing well, but having a sudden outburst of laughter wasn't exactly what he had in mind for combat training with his class.

After meeting him:

He turns into a freaking mindreader. It took him about three dates to figure out what to do when you were facing which emotions and he always seemed to have an ace up his sleeve. 

You are having a bad day? Don't worry, he already knows. And when it was bad enough for him to feel it, he usually would prep his bed with dozens of cushions for a cuddle session where you could pour your heart out. To be fair, it usually reminds other people of an interrogation but Bakugou just doesn't know how to ask about your bad day with different measures.

With his emotions being mostly in check, you rarely experience his feelings projecting onto you once your relationship settled. If it wasn't for his nightmares. Hero work sometimes required being faced with situations one should talk about with a therapist - And Bakugou highly appreciates waking up to you, ready to cuddle him and stroke his hair for comfort when the nightmares get bad enough for you to wake up as well. He feels guilty every single time. 

Bakugou loves the warm feeling that spread inside his chest after he did something that made you specifically happy. For example, your first kiss had nearly knocked him off of his feet as he hadn't been used to thousands of butterflies joining his own butterfly garden at once.

Todoroki Shouto

Before meeting him:

In the beginning he hadn't really cared about the soulmate bond. After seeing his parents’ marriage turn to dust and hate this early in his life he had decided that he had had his fair share of love and soulmates for an entire lifetime.

Being on the timid side, it was hard for you to pin down when exactly the bond had manifested. That made the sudden outbursts of fear when facing his father even worse. One time you caught yourself nearly jumping up and yelling “Please, don't hurt me!” even though you had been sitting in your safe living room with no one around.

The day he finally accepted his second quirk and put it to full use, you had been on the edge nerve-wise for the entire duration of the staged battle, without knowing that it was even taking place. It wasn't exactly an emotion that roared through your body, but the heat enveloping especially your left side had you on your knees in excitement.

On the other hand, there was Shoto with his limited access to other children his age until he joined UA. So the pinches of happiness, cheerfulness and pride that seasoned his daily life where mostly coming from your end. As a child he always imagined all the amazing stories you would be able to tell him, even though these emotions had been triggered by pretty much normal things, like getting a good grade.

After meeting him:

You are each other’s voice of reason. While you are teaching him how to be a little bit more expressive with his feelings and are rather busy describing what different emotions feel like (he was confused sometimes), he usually just kept his hand on your back to support you and your ambitions in everyday life.

His mom loves you. His sister loves you. His brother loves you. Because you bring out the best in Shoto. He is not a complete fool but whenever he visits his mother, he likes to tell her how you described different emotions that he himself hadn't been able to put a label on yet. 

“It’s technically feeling all warm and fuzzy inside, but sometimes also like you are having a heart attack because you are just so eager for the other person to like you that you are giving it your absolute best all the time. That’s what Y/N called a crush. And I came to the conclusion that I had and still have the biggest crush on Y/N.”

He is also very considerate of the stress he is causing you as a hero. You’ve sworn to never watch a live broadcast of one of his encounters with villains in order for him to be able to stay calm - The moment he is back, you get to hug him, ruffle his hair and pick a movie for the night.

Midoriya Izuku

Before meeting him:

Looking back, your first time feeling his emotions had been at the tender age of kindergarten age when 5-year-old Izuku was told that he would most likely never develop a quirk, therefore crushing his dreams of becoming a pro hero like All Might.

Far ahead of being invested in heroes yourself, you felt yourself drawn to All Might, which didn't seem odd considering his status and popularity, but it made a lot more sense when it turned out that Midoriya was your soulmate. 

Despite of pain not being an actual emotion, you started experiencing this odd and unexplainable rush of tingles in your limbs mixed with stubbornness and pride one faithful November evening. No doctor, not even soulmate specialists, could help you figure out what was happening.

For Midoriya training had become his life. Especially ever since applying to UA. In the middle of despair and fear of failure, the emotions of your very normal life helped him ground himself whenever he was losing himself in anxiety. He realized that there was another person he was somewhat living for, not just himself.

After meeting him:

He wants to know everything about you, the very moment both of you meet. There is just so much more for him to learn about you that he can barely calm himself down enough to take a breath and answer your questions. The ecstasy happened to be addicting thanks to your soulmate bond and you ended up chatting for hours on end, in a rush of excitement and blossoming feelings.

You are his rock. It doesn't matter how much he blushes when he thinks about you, how fast his heart races inside his chest or how much of a burden you might think you are to him - All day long teeny tiny waves of happiness will hit you and they will tell you that you are on his mind this very moment. It’s the least he can do when his workload is heavy and he can't see you as often as he would love to.

On the rare occasions of both of you having a bad day at the very same time, it spirals into misery pretty quickly because he doesn't know how to handle your bad days and his stress at the same time without being overwhelmed. Don't worry, a long cuddle season will not only turn his cheeks red, but also calm his nerves rather quickly. On days like these he is the small spoon.

Kirishima Eijirou

Before meeting him:

The spring he entered UA must have left you quite baffled as not only the amount of passion, happiness and excitement basically exploded inside of you thanks to your soulmate, but it had been a huge difference from before spring holidays. If one knew how much he had changed by entering the hero school, it was definitely you.

Tiredness was not exactly something that Kirishima was experiencing often, yet when it hit him it really did. That was also the time when his dark thoughts would come back to haunt him despite his efforts of locking them up inside of his heart. His restless nights turned into your restless nights with ease.

Honestly, it always made his day when he physically felt that you were having a good day as well. He didn't know what caused your happiness, it was enough to feel the warmth spread in his body as a sign that you were doing fine. His friends were always aware of your happy feelings as well because Kirishima never managed to hide his smile when the tickling sensation of foreign happiness hit him.

After meeting him:

Not much has changed about the endless energy that is flowing through his body whenever you smile. And vice versa. When he is in his feels, he is deep down the rabbit hole, hence the fuzzy feeling in your tummy won't subside that easily. 

In contrast, it took a really long time to convince him to share his feelings verbally with you when things weren't going as planned. Being the walking sunshine he is it was hard for him to learn that him being sad or in a bad mood isn't jeopardizing your way of living and that it’s impossible to always be happy, even if it’s just on the outside.

Dating Kirishima as your soulmate is as simple as reading a book. His level of excitement as soon as you are around goes through the roof, making it easy for you to feel his reaction to you as well. Fair enough, the spark in his eyes was pretty much exposing his thoughts on top of that, but the feeling of butterflies in your stomach reached a whole new level with him around.

Togata Mirio

Before meeting him:

All there was could be describe as an eternal source of warmth. Granted, as children there was crying sometimes or anger or even jealousy, but the older you grew the stronger your constant - yet external - urge to smile got. Every. Single. Day. Some might want to describe it as slightly unnerving. How could your soulmate always be this happy?

Nevertheless, waves of seriousness would hit you regularly. Some longer, some shorter. But they remained, never completely vanishing whether it was winter or summer, raining or burning hot. Those were the moments when he was in battle, most likely during his patrol rounds through the city - It would have been hard to guess that though as there was never fear or hatred involved.

Then the day that everyone still hates talking about took place. It had started without any hint of disaster in the air, you had been going about your day as per usual. First, tension made itself known, followed by the urge to jump into action. But nothing could compare to the way your vision went blurry while he simultaneously collapsed in Tamaki’s arms and you just knew that something horrendous had happened.

After meeting him:

Honestly, thank god that you have the soulmate connection as that makes it much easier to know if he is actually happy or just pretending to be for your sake. Most of the time he is genuinely his sunshine nature, yet there are times when he locks himself in metaphorically speaking - So you better go and hug him when it’s bad enough for you to feel it. He will appreciate nothing more than a cuddle session.

Speaking of cuddle sessions - This man knows your love language down to a T and he will shower you in said love language whenever there is just a tiny bit of negativity entering his own brain through the soulmate connection: “You always make me so happy, so I gotta do my best to keep you happy as well, my honey bun.” Cue the ridiculously blinding smile.

He loves you. He simply loves you so so so much that he barely knows where to place all the excitement when he sees you or when he gets to spend time with you or when you text him. There’s always a reason for him to be happy as long as you are involved. And you physically feel it, too.

Amajiki Tamaki

Before meeting him:

Sometimes you found yourself being better at dealing with his anxiety than he was because you knew it would be over at some point and you didn't have to face the reason for his fear. From your perspective, he had always been on the more nervous side. It only occurred to you that it might be a bigger issue once nervousness turned into unsettling fear that took your breath away in the non-romantic sense.

On the other end of the connection was him - Usually hands in his pockets, eyes pinned to the floor, avoiding conversation with strangers at all cost. Feeling your happy feelings caused him to relax at basically every given opportunity, but it also had him worried that he might rob you of your light and spark if he were to step into your life.

When he couldn't sleep at night, he would try to picture you based on how being subject to your emotions felt. That gave way to him completely getting lost in his thoughts and imagination as he realized that there might be a person who was just as excited to meet him. He had to hug a pillow to keep the butterflies in check - In return, you experienced cozy dreams during those specific nights.

After meeting him:

He really had to get used to the fact that you were around now and not only a fantasy any longer. Eventually, he learnt how to come to terms with his worries of overwhelming you or scaring you away and allowed himself to not suppress his own emotions that might expose his blossoming feelings for you.

There is lots of comfort for each other. Both of you have realized, especially thanks to his constant state of insecurity, that the emotions not being strong enough to trigger the soulmate connection doesn't mean that there is nothing going on inside of you. So, casually holding hands while watching tv or some words of affirmation here and there have become part of your daily lives.

When you have one of these “Oh my god, I just fell in love with him all over again” situations, the tips of his ears turn bright red. You don't need to say anything, he feels it. Usually he doesn't know what he did to make you feel this way, but it surely eases his soul to realize that even the seemingly most mundane things like laughing can make you feel as much love for him as he has for you.

Posted: 24 April 2022 | Requests: Open

[danger-noodle-uwu]

This is a pretty graphic idea I had but I understand if you don’t want to do it or find it too triggering.

I want to request hc’s of the Brothers + Datables (but if you do the Brothers and Datables separately than just the Brothers please) reacting to MC being summoned but MC’s covered in blood and holding a weapon like a bat or knife, because they massacred their abusive family and they don’t feel bad about it at all. Mc’s pretty emotionally hollow and they don’t show much reaction or fear to dangerous situations either since the Bros do start off threatening and rude but they relate to Mammon since he’s emotionally abused by his Bros and physically punished by Lucifer.

This is only if you feel comfy doing it and I apologize if I broke the rules and making you find it very triggering and disturbing

Trigger warning!

Mentions of blood/murder/abuse

Do not proceed if sensitive

Lucifer

At the summoning part, Lucifer would be merely worried about what type of student has diavolo choosen, pitying his taste. Though he was but a demon, weary and skittish around you.

The Avatar of pride scared of mere human?

(Though he kinda was)

Blood being spilled on the floor was common in devildom yet he was unfazed.

But now, things are different and he can't help to worry about how this weak creature will influence on his brothers.

the fallen-morningstar tried to keep you away from the entire of his brothers including himself.

He also made sure that never was anything that could be used as a potential weapon surround you.

Often the man would receive rather harsh words from you and get somewhat hurt. Yet , not a single cry reach your ears.

(Que enemies to lovers dynamic)

When the pair started dating, the raven-haired demon had already known the past and what it once held for mc...

Oh how much he wishes, he helped you instead of interrogating every movement, to regain the 'you' that your parents killed. So, he will find a solution. To find those rascals in the realm of spirits or demons and put them once again at your mercy.

Prepare yourself Mc. For a whole month of pampering and love as he will never dare repeat the mistake he made.

Mammon

As the story is, Mammon didn't encounter you first but only heard melody of your voice.

The first meet was unforgettable, he was petrified to see the blood dripping off your slender bruised figure.

One thought that he was scared however, No he was anything but scared. He had thought you were the one hurt like--you know h-how Lucifer hurts him.

He rushed towards you but was stopped by the eldest saying " They aren't hurt." And this was the first person tried who befriend you.

When your words were sweetly aimed at him and just HIM. He'd feel his heart beat racing like crazy which made him believe he thought you found him special.

He was never honest with anyone, until you showed up. His biggest fear was snapping because of the mean comments his brothers pass and you had probably done something similar.

He wanted to know. Though dense he may seem, he hoped you'd tell him.

Was it scary? Do you feared this before? Is it still scary? Do you feel emotions after this?

Yet he never asked...

When the greedy Boi and mc started dating, they told everything about their condition. Of how they snapped.

He was the most understanding of his brothers and promised to never let another one harm you. Not even you.

He loved even more since that day. Not to mention 1323433454455686 'I love you's per day.

Leviathan

Blabbering lord knows what, Leviathan had stepped out of his room even if that was to scold mammon and get his money back.

He obviously knew about the exchange program but what he didn't know was that bloody murderer would be part of it!!!

He wasn't moving when he saw the numb expression you wore and the bloody knife you had held.

Inside, he was scared shitless but he didn't know how to show it.

A mere-human had terrified The great admiral of hell's navy. What shame he was.

"Oi cut it out!" Yelled the scummy yet kind demon protectively moving between the two.

In the beginning, he felt unsafe only by your gaze and refusing to make eye contact.

And then, a good day to exit to his room. The true reason being the pearly raindrops that had littered the gardens of HOL.

He saw you... soaking wet smiling and hurting... shining brightly though it felt dim.

That day. That dammed day. He found out who truly were. A beautiful person who was just hurting and breaking.

Since then, he has been a mix of a nagging mother but also shy as if a touch-me-not.

Dating him was heavenly, he wasn't shy with touch yet words were a whole another thing to him.

He always left 'Love you's in the chats and reminders on your phone that were just a bunch of 'eat healthy' 'stay safe', etc.

And this was certain that his love will never end.

Satan

Snatching the bat from your hands, the blonde-man threatened to kill you with your own weapon if you dared to move.

And that's exactly what you wanted... to die... to end the suffering...

And he saw it.

Saw how horribly you were hurting, he knew what it felt however, he couldn't lose his composure not in front of his brothers.

Wrath is a storm which is followed by pain. He knew this. Same in your case except pain knocked the doors first.

He knew it was too early for asking. So, he kept his mouth shut. Not wishing to hurt you any further though he didn't know why he felt this way.

When you finally finished your 2nd month in your new home, things had changed as the Avatar of wrath often talked to you not about how bloody you arrived or you had killed but are you okay now?

His words were soft. So sweet.

Each time he would offer you his shoulder to cry on, you would feel your heart slowly warm up. Slightly more each-time.

Soon enough you started dating the green-eyed pact demon of yours, recalling the long lost feeling of warmth and love.

The knowledgeable one loved to show physical affection especially in front of his brothers.

Oh~ the smell of their burning envy, when he kissed the nape of your neck and complimented you.

Post-its were his favorite though.

He would often write 'Love you, kitten' 'take break,love' 'you look amazing today',etc.

Asmodues

He yelped when he saw a bloodied figure emerge from the purple haze. Are they okay?

He was concerned only till a knife was spotted next your seemingly heartless figure. Now, he was somewhat hiding behind satan in disgusted yet anxious way.

You gaze deeply disturbed him to an extent he even had nightmares of you ripping him open with same knife and had that soul-less expression.

He much like Leviathan refused to see you after the encounter but what was different, was the course of events...

He saw you arguing with Lucifer, for you refused let him hurt Mammon who curled behind you.

Asmo felt pity for you as he knew the outcome of an argument with the eldest.

"Lucifer don't hurt him, please. He already has enough bruises" Asmo says giving his sweet brother Luci the puppy eyes, hoping they would work. (Yeah they didn't)

But nonetheless Luci~ still backed out and left the hallway.

You rush for the poor injured demon, he is crying while thanking you for the save.

And there for one moment, The lustful blond saw emotion in those glassy eyes of yours. It was beautiful and aching at the same time.

Making him greedy for more...

Later the very same day, he approached you finally asking the questions his head was haunted by.

What was weird? He didn't blame you for breaking instead he complimented you for being a survivor of such harsh tortures.

Accepting his confession was the best thing you ever did.

He is open with affection especially when you both are in public to show he is yours. You are his. You belong together.

for his hunger to see those pretty eyes shine with joy is endless, he makes Mc smile with happiness and love

Beelzebub

Famished as always was the sixth born. Especially after smelling human blood.

Little did he know the blood of the now dead parents of mc, the exchange student.

He wasn't even fazed unlike his brothers. He couldn't care any less than he did nor about the blood neither about the weapon clutched in your hands.

Even if you passed insults, he wouldn't mind. Sometimes, he asks why you dislike him? And is fine even if the answer is illogical. (Don't fuckin hate him)

Numb eyes. Tears flowing freely. Cuts. Bruises. Hurting. Dying inside.

The glutton wipes the sweat off his forehead remembering the condition of yours in that horrendous nightmare.

You looked awfully similar to belphi when- when s-she died. He blamed himself and hurt himself for being so useless. Just like you do.

And then realization hits--

YOU ARE HURTING!!

He now knew why your rude words didn't hurt him because you were like belphegor trying to protect your fragile heart.

Why you look numb? because you're trying to hide the pain. Push people away so you don't get hurt when they go away.

The following day, you were gently woken by the huge teddy bear. He held a hand out for you before taking you to his room for the special breakfast.

You teared upon the sight instantly realizing that he recognized your suffering. He apologized for not noticing earlier and from now, he will be there for you.

Never in the three realms did he think he'd fall for you? Maybe he had all along just didn't notice....

Once you begin dating the orange-head, he was ecstasic and cheerful all the time. Encouraging words followed you everywhere.

He would often eat the entire fridge out. So as apology, a cupcake with sorry written on it was placed on the kitchen counter. Other days, when he won't go such extreme, carrot chips or a poison apple etc. Waited for you.

Beely is the opposite of possessive. Protective. He is Protective and supports you through the ups and downs in life. He was your true savior. A savior who never judged you for your past.

His Love is the sky, you learned to fly in.

Belphegor

He had heard the tale of how the human exchange student had shown up covered in blood with a bat in hand.

Never did he believe that it was true until seeing the monotone figure of them.

The way they spoke made them like Lucifer. Emotionless. Heartless. Ruthless. Monster.

He wanted to strangle them on spot but he was stuck within the confines of the attic.

The sloth couldn't help passing comment making mc slowly reveal the aching heart of their own-self.

Expression faultered and he saw it--No, no more like felt it. The way their tears were swallowed. The way their voice turned monotone once again to cover what had already been seen.

However, the seventh born didn't say a word, he just showed affection through body language as they couldn't touch each other yet.

After he was free from the prison of an attic, he ran to you. His star. The one that guided him out to freedom.

It felt weird dating the lazy demon. Afterall, he was doing nothing other than shoving compliments in your face and dozing off here and there.

Few months pass and things become smoother than how they were.

Now, he always compliments you but softly and sweetly. Always willing to listen to whatever you wanna rant about.

"You are my true love, Mc. The star that guides to where I belong when I'm lost."

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

Welp! That was long as hell. Anyway, thank you for the request. It kinda feels like you and my sister share the same brain cell cuz she said the same thing but like- mc ate their organs and more messy. God I hope you like it...

Good day!

[hotch-stufff]

Love is Complicated

gifs by hqtchner & ncis-season-

Pairing: Hotch x reader, Gibbs x reader

Warnings!: angst, pining, kissing, fluff

Request: "well i was thinking about a criminal minds x ncis crossover, where the reader has a big crush on gibbs but then she meets hotch and she is really confused 😿" @wolviesbabes

--------

Your hand scribbled yet another word on the endless stack of paperwork that littered your desk. It really did never end. You set your pen down. You needed a break. You looked up and your eyes instantly found him. He was hunched over his desk, probably doing the same thing you were doing.

But God, did he look good doing it. Although in your opinion he looked good doing just about everything.

You noticed that about him over the past couple months on the NCIS team. You had been transfered from another similar unit in New Orleans on the recommendation of Dwayne Pride himself. Gibbs was quick to accept you to the unit, but he remained cold to you for the first couple of weeks. It wasn't until you saved him from a, for lack of better words, crazy gunman did he warm up to you.

After that, you two had gotten extremely close. So close that you developed a small crush on the man. Although, you hid it rather well. No one, atleast not to your knowledge, knew about your crush. And you intended on keeping it that way, but it was so hard when he was just sitting right in front of you, looking all handsome and just... him.

You wanted to tell him. You really did. But he was way out of your league, and you weren't even his type. But a girl could dream.

Vance suddenly came out of his office and called Gibbs up. He stood slowly and walked away. You prayed this wasn't a case. You really did not feel like dealing with a case right now.

He came back out a few moments later, a scowl on his face.

"What is it Gibbs?" You asked, he jerked his head towards Vance's office.

"He wants the team to attend an interagency gala on Saturday night." You scoffed. Of course he did. "FBI, CIA, and NCIS teams are all expected to attend. Including us." His scowled deepened at the thought of having to deal with other agencies.

"Great, just great." And you were so looking forward to a quiet weekened.

* * *

The night of the gala had arrived much quicker than expected. And of course Abby had insisted on going shopping for dresses. She herself had gotten a long black dress, with a slit. She said she would add a few things to make it more like her, and you couldn't wait to see it. You had gone with a more subtle dress. A long emerald green dress, with spaghetti straps and an open back. The front dipped slightly.

You had brought it with you to the office so you could get ready with Abby and as you were heading to the elevator to go to her floor, you heard Gibbs on the phone. Now you weren't one to eavesdrop, but you really couldn't stop yourself.

"I know, I know, it won't take long. I promise. Bye." Was he with someone else? You stood there frozen as he emerged from the room he was in.

"Hey y/n. Whatchtya doin?" He asked suspiciously.

"Oh, um nothing Gibbs, thought I heard you and wanted to say bye before we left, I didnt think you would actually go to the gala tonight, so I thought I could just stop in and-" he cut you off.

"Slow down, you're rambling. You okay?" You needed to get out of there.

"Yup, just been a long day. Alright well bye." You rushed off to Abby office. Once you got there, she instantly asked what was wrong. You explained everything. Your feelings, the conversation you heard, just everything.

"Awe, y/n/n. I'm so sorry. He's stupid if he doesn't see whats right in front of him." That made you smile.

"We should get ready." You stated standing up to grab your dress.

2 hours later, you and Abby walked up stairs looking amazing if you did say so yourself. Wolf whistles were heard coming from Tony as you two walked towards the group. You rolled your eyes, catching Gibbs smirk.

His eyes dragged up and down your body, which had confused you greatly. He had never showed any interest in you before, why now? Maybe he had and was just better at hiding it.

"Well, we should get going." You nodded, you all walked out to the SUVs ready for the night ahead of you.

* * *

The gala was interesting to say the least. Each agency decided to stay away from eachother, like elementary students. Each group taking up their own circle around the room.

You had spotted a rather handsome man who you had recognized as Aaron Hotchner sitting at the FBI tables and couldn't seem to take your eyes off of him. You new you had feelings for Gibbs,, but something about this man just drew you in. You had previously met him on a conjoined case with your old team, and you had developed the smallest of crushes on the man. You never expected anything to happen, and he was only in New Orleans for about a week.

Suddenly Gibbs popped back into your head, and you huffed slightly, turning to search for him. Finding him at a table nearby, talking with a woman. You scoffed and he looked over at you.

In a moment of impulse, you tunred away and walked across the empty dance floor straight to Agent Hotchner. He looked up from his conversation as you neared his table.

"Hi, NCIS Agent Y/l/n. We worked together on the Williams case about a year back." He nodded in recognition.

"Of course. Its great to see you again agent y/l/n." He paused looking you up and down in a way you welcomed. "Can I help you with something." He asked, not unkindly at all, but rather friendly.

"I was wondering if you would like to dance." He raised an eyebrow at you. "Someone's got to break the chill in this room." He nodded and stood up slowly, his team staring on in awe. You figured he didn't do this very often.

"I would love to." He took your hand bringing you to the dance floor as another song began. You two danced for about 10 minutes before more couples began to join you. You smiled in triumph and Hotchner laughed at your face.

"What? It worked didn't it?" He smiled shaking his head.

"I suppose it did." You two began talking and laughing and just getting to know each other. You soon found yourself at a table as you continued with your conversation.

"Okay but, im just saying if Strauss is anything like Vance, they would be perfect together." He laughed at this rather loudly, catching the eyes of a few people near by.

"That would never happen. If Vance is anything like Strauss they would drive each other crazy." You giggled softly. Soon it was time to leave, and Agent Hotchner, or Aaron as he had asked you to call him, offered to walk you to your SUV where the rest of your team was waiting. They all eyed you as this strange man walked you over, handing you a card and pressing a soft kiss to your cheek. You had blushed profusely and walked over, getting in the car.

"So y/n, whos the hottie?" Abby began interrogating you as soon as you shut your door.

"Thats Agent Hotchner. He's the Unit Chief of the FBI's BAU." You smiled to yourself.

"Must be an ass if he's from the FBI." Gibbs remarked, another scowl gracing his face.

"He was actually quite the gentlman." Was your only response before turning to look out the window. Gibbs was the one being an ass. You had just spent the night with a wonderful man and Gibbs just had to ruin it by spouting some snarky comment that only confused you more. The rest of the ride was spent in silence.

* * *

Once back at the office, Gibbs had called you to the elevator, not giving you a chance to respond. You had of course listened, and as soon as the doors shut, he had pulled the emergency button.

"What is it Gibbs?" You asked softly. He just walked closer to you, cupping your face. "What are you doing?" He leaned in slowly bringing his lips to yours.

And you had expected it to be perfect and explosive and passionate. But... it wasn't. He pulled away after only a moment.

"Hang on, let me try that again." And he leaned in once more, pressing his lips to yours. But once again, there was nothing. He pulled away.

"That was ... strange?" He asked, more to himslef than anything.

"I uh, that-that was-"

"Not what I was expecting." He finished for you.

"You know Gibbs, I've been pining over you for months, and I'm guessing you felt the same. But I think we both met someone else tonight that changed our minds." You recalled him spending the whole night side by side with the woman you had seen earlier. You smiled shyly at him. "Call that woman you were with tonight. Tell her you want to go out on a date." He smiled looking into your eyes.

"Only if you call Agent Hochie, or whatever his name was, and tell him the same." You laughed at not only his comment, but the absurdity of the situation. For the past 5 months you had been yearning for a man who ended up not being what you wanted at all. It made you think that maybe what you really wanted, what you both really wanted, was someone to love. So you latched on to the person who had become closest to you.

"I love ya y/n." He whispered as he pressed a kiss to your forehead.

"I love you too Gibbs. Now go get her." He stepped out of the elevator, pulling out his phone. You did the same, pulling out Aaron's card. It rang once. Twice.

"Hotchner." You giggled at his formal greeting. Taking a deep breath before going for it.

"Hey Aaron, I was just wondering if you were up for dinner?" He smiled.

"Of course. You know, I'm really glad you called."

"Me too." And you walked out of your office that night, a date with a man you had never expected, and a smile on your face.

-------

Not sure how I feel about this one, but I loved the request. Let me know what you guys think!! Thanks for reading! Requests are still open, so ask away! If you would like an idea of what to request, here is my prompt list, and if you would like to read more of my work, here is my masterlist.

[brattyfics]

Like That

Pairing: Rio x Black!Reader

Summary: You and Rio get to know each other better. Loosely based on ‘Like That’ by Doja Cat. 

Warnings: Smut.

Word Count: 3.5K

Installments: Say So | Like That | Talk Dirty

And baby, I want it, and I'll just be honest 'Cause I just can't front when I look at you

About six weeks have passed since Rio declared himself your man, and you quickly learned he took the title very seriously.

He was busier than usual with ‘flipping his game,’ and you were busy preparing to transition your shop, but you saw each other often despite time constraints. You agreed date nights at least once a week were a must, but when you couldn’t see each other, Rio made sure to end nights with a phone call. Virtually falling asleep next to him gave you butterflies, reminding you just how exciting new relationships could be. It took prodding, but he told you made-up bedtime stories and the boring details of his day. In return, you shared things about yourself— childhood memories, the crazy things your mom did to embarrass you. He was sweet and attentive, and you found it refreshing to be with someone who was just as infatuated with you.

On your second date, he took you to his favorite restaurant, a fancy sushi place with expensive rolls. He taught you to hold chopsticks the wrong way the way he did and even fed you across the small table, a couple of unfortunate rolls falling apart due to his prodding. You tried your best to hide your amusement at the pensive look on his face. For whatever reason, Rio thought of himself as a sushi connoisseur, but it was clear to you that he was still learning.

“You’re no better than me!” He admonished when he noticed the way you held your chopsticks. Like his technique, it was incorrect, but it worked for you— sort of. “I never said I was.” You couldn’t keep the amusement off your face any longer. “You’re the one who comes here weekly. I thought you were a professional, and we’re in the same boat.” He folded his arms on top of the table as he insisted you were wrong, but secretly he found your teasing endearing. Later that night, he called and gave you a cheesy line about loving to see you smile.

The following week, you had lunch at a mom-and-pop soul food restaurant that served the best cornbread and peach cobbler in the city. The owners, an adorable older couple, Donna and Gene, and servers alike stopped by your table to meet Rio. Donna gushed over Rio, showering him with compliments and extra cornbread. “Girl, he is cute!” She told you, failing miserably at whispering. He smirked as you rolled your eyes, but he handled the attention well, being friendly and personable even when Gene kept going on and on about changes to the menu, one chef to another.

A few days later, he called you up randomly and asked you to get ready and ride with him somewhere. “What should I wear?” You asked, hoping for a hint. You could hear him smile as he said, “It doesn’t even matter, ma. You always look good.” The occasion had turned out to be ‘Foodtruck Friday.’ Barbecue, kebab, taco, ice cream, and other miscellaneous food trucks were parked in a spacious lot in Downtown Detroit. You settled at a picnic table and shared several plates of food as you discussed the possibility of your own mobile ‘Mad Batter’ shop somewhere down the line. It got you thinking about the future.

“Where do you see yourself in five years?” You asked the dreaded question in between bites of a colorful Korean fusion taco. He stiffened as he considered the answer. “What is this, a job interview?” Sometimes you saw peeks of bossman Rio rather than the Christopher Castillo you were getting to know. It happened seemingly out of nowhere when you asked questions he felt were invasive.

You looked up from the panko-fried shrimp, red cabbage, shredded carrots, and tasty orange sauce wrapped up in a flour tortilla with a frown. You had two choices: respond in the way he had or make light of the situation. So, you said, “Kinda. You’re auditioning for a spot on my roster, so...”

He stopped chewing the half-eaten dumpling and swallowed hard. “That’s not funny.”

“You better start taking the interviewing part of the audition more seriously then.” You wiped your fingers on a napkin, and he gathered your hand in his own, wearing a look you couldn’t decipher. “You got it, ma.”

You played a game of mini-golf at the local arcade. Rio stood tall behind you, holding you by your hips as he corrected your stance. You purposefully arched your back, brushing against him just slightly. “Like this?” You looked over your shoulder with the most innocent look you could muster, but his eyes were glued to your ass. “Yeah, just like that.” He answered in a low tone without looking up. You giggled as you took your swing, adding a wiggle for his benefit. You pretended to care about the ball as it glided across the bright green tarp towards the hole. “How was that?” You chirped, looking down the lane.

“I can’t even lie. I don’t care about the game right now. I just wanna watch you.” Your aim was terrible, and the ball never went in the hole without several attempts, but he insisted you finish playing the course. You teased him about it for days after despite his claim that he actually enjoyed the game because it was one of Marcus’ favorites.

“Stop lying! You just wanted an excuse to openly watch my ass.”

“Why you always gotta call me out?”

You shopped a cozy health and wellness store with hundreds of cool little trinkets for sale. Neither of you had been there before, so you took your time exploring, stealing unexpected kisses from the other. Rio took full advantage of the size of the store, pulling you by the hand and holding you close to his side.

He frowned at the large collection of shiny crystals. “A rock, really? What does anybody need with a rock?”

“It’s not a rock!” You hissed, head whipping around as you hoped the owner didn’t hear him.

“What is it then? It looks like a rock to me.” He picked one up, turning it over in his hands.

“It’s a crystal!”

“What’s the difference?”

“It has healing properties...” Rio snorted but strung his arm across your shoulder and listened intently as you read the info cards to him. When it was all said and done, he bought an aventurine stone to apologize to the owner for prosperity, well-being, and good luck.

The next day, he disappeared with no warning. You had been worried sick until Mick let you know he was busy handling something. It would have only taken a minute to tell you that, so you were (understandably) pissed. He showed up at the shop several days later like nothing had ever happened. “What’s up, mama?” The greeting that usually melted you grated on your nerves. All of your feelings about the situation bubbled up to the surface. It was hard to find the right words— you were still getting to know each other, so how mad could you be? At the same time, how little did he think of you to not say anything? Finally, you settled on, “I can’t do the disappearing act.”

Rio wasn’t used to answering to anyone, not even his child’s mother, about his whereabouts, but he put his palms up in surrender when he saw the serious expression you wore.

“You’re right, mama. That’s my bad. It won’t happen again.”

And it hadn’t.

But knowing ahead of time only made it a tiny bit easier, especially when he didn’t have a set return date. You were going on day seven (the longest you had gone without seeing him since you started dating) when he called to say he made it home and wanted to see you. Your heavy heart swelled with relief. You missed him way more than you probably should have, so you insisted on a night in at your place, wanting him to feel relaxed and at home instead of on guard somewhere public.

It had been a long six weeks without sex while he romanced you with delicious food and beautiful words. It wasn’t an easy task, but you knew as soon as sex was thrown in the mix, you would be done for, either destined to be his or ruined by him. It was a scary thought, but distance had indeed made the heart grow fonder, and you cared about him enough to take a chance.

He was set to arrive within the hour, but you were still unsure of what to wear, frantically rummaging through the dresser for something cute and comfortable. You let out a frustrated groan when your phone started to ring, thinking Rio might have come early, but when you look down at your phone, you see your best friend’s name and face. You swipe quickly, accepting the FaceTime call. “Hey, girl!”

“Hey, stranger!” You pick up the phone, so you can look at her. “Really?”

“Yes, really.” She replies with just as much sass. “I haven’t talked to you in what— two weeks?”

“We talk—“

“—text.”

“Okay, fine. Text. We text every day. What are you talking about?”

“That’s not the same.” She insists even as you remind her of the ridiculous amount of time you spend trading memes and food pictures with her.

“Anyway, what are you doing?”

“I’m trying to decide what I’m going to wear between this, this, or this.” You move the camera around, showing her the different options. A black-and-white tank and short set with ‘Being cute is not a crime’ in a cute font. A fuzzy grey sweatsuit set with hearts, or a simple cream hoodie with matching shorts.

“Um, what’s the occasion?” You giggle at the look on her face, knowing she thinks none of the above are appropriate for wearing outside of the house.

“Movie night in.”

“You need help picking an outfit for movie night with yourself?” Her face scrunches up in confusion. “Wait, is it movie night with yourself?” You try to be casual about it, shrugging your shoulders in response. As usual, she sees through your bullshit and goes straight into an interrogation. “Oh, bitch. You been holding out on me!” She asks you five questions in a row without stopping to breathe before settling on one. “Who?”

You gnaw on your bottom lip. “...Rio.”

“Rio?” She frowns. “Like the guy we work for, Rio? With the eyebrows and the neck tattoo, Rio?”

“Yes, that Rio.”

“Wow.” You wince but decide it’s best to get it over with. “What? I know you, so I know there’s more where that came from.”

“I don’t know what to say! From what I can tell, he’s a decent dude, I guess, but you know what he does. You definitely know what we do for him! You don’t think that could be a problem?”

“It’s messy, for sure, and I can admit that, but I’ve been thinking about getting out anyway...” She nods. “Then, I guess there’s nothing else for me to say about that. You’re both grown, and you know what you’re doing.” She was your best friend, which meant she’d always give her honest opinion, but wouldn’t berate you about your choices. Just like that, you return to your regular discussion topics, everything from warehouse gossip (yes, even in the business of crime, there’s a rumor mill) to new music releases. Before you knew it, forty minutes had passed, and Rio was calling your phone. You promised to call her more often before hanging up.

You sing your ‘hello’ into the phone, hoping Rio can’t detect the shakiness in your voice as you clumsily pull on your bottoms.

“Hey, mama. You about ready? I know you’re sensitive about your space and all that.” He was referring to the fact that he had never been past the doorway of your home. Your home was your sacred place, so you were extra careful about who came in and what energy they brought. It was always nerve-wracking to let somebody into the space that you cherished so much.

“Yeah.” He picks up on the hesitancy in your voice. “Are you sure?” You nod your head as if he can see you before telling him yes with a giggle. “Alright, well, I’m outside. Can I come in?” You bite your lip, butterflies fluttering in your tummy. “Yeah, I’ll come unlock the door.” He whispers his thanks, and you take a moment to force yourself to relax. When you meet him at the door, you do so with an open mind and heart, taking in his appearance with a goofy grin on your face. As usual, he’s dressed in all black, wearing a well-fitted t-shirt and sweatpants. He’s casual but still so high quality and attractive.

“Hi.” You breathe out like a dork when you realize you’re staring. It helps that he seems just as mesmerized, stepping forward to envelop you in a tight, warm hug. He sways you from side to side before pulling back, his hands resting heavily on the top of your ass. He settles for a quick peck on the lips because he has something to say. “You’re as pretty as ever, darlin’.” He says earnestly, shaking his head as he steps back to look you over once more.

“Kiss me again.” His hands cup your ass as you devour each other in the open doorway. You forget your surroundings. “Damn, ma. Can I at least get inside before you jump my bones? I don’t mind giving your neighbors a show if that’s your thing, but…” You turn to hide your embarrassment, leaving him to close the door behind you as you gesture around the room as if you’re in an episode of MTV Cribs. “... here’s the living room. The kitchen’s through the arch. The bathroom’s over there...” He follows you with his red as you point.

“And the bedroom?”

You snort. “The tour stops here for now. Sit down.” Your tone leaves no room for argument. He settles into the soft couch while you grab the snack tray from the kitchen. Homemade popcorn, chocolate-covered pretzels, and dried fruit gummies are on the menu.

“All this for me?” His arms snake around your waist so that you can curl up into his side. “What we watching?” You grab the remote. “I saw a trailer this week that caught my attention. I’ll play it for you.” He didn’t care what you watched as long as he got to be close to you, so it didn’t take long for you to get the movie started. He stole glances at you when his knuckles brushed against your bare knees under the blanket. You’re embarrassed at how wet the small action makes you, so you stretch out across the couch and place your bare feet in his lap, silently planning your revenge. The movie may as well not be playing because you couldn’t be less interested in the plot as you lightly stroke him through his sweatpants with the balls of your feet.

“Ma...” He warns, watching you in the low lighting. He’s come to learn you like to tease, but he doesn’t think he can take it, not tonight. “Hmm?” You hum innocently, loving the strained look on your face. He doesn’t move even as you sit up on your haunches and kiss him. It’s slow and long in the best way. He pulls you to sit in his lap. His hands roam your body as you grind down onto him, relishing in the feeling of the soft skin on your tummy. He sighs into your mouth as one hand finds your bare breasts.

He pulls away to talk shit. “No bra? You just knew I was gonna put out, huh?” He pushes the cotton material up so he can see you properly. “Perfect.” He murmurs into your skin. You let him kiss and lick and suck on your nipples until the pressure you feel below is too much to handle. You’re a quivering mess when he finally helps you pull the cotton material up and over your head. It lands on top of the television behind you, but neither of you notice.

You nudge him until he removes his own shirt, and then he lifts his hips to help you when you begin tugging on his sweats. They puddle at his feet while you spread your legs wide, desperate to get your hands on him. “I could cry right now.” You admit honestly when you finally see him, biting your lip. He arches a brow. “Is that a good thing or a bad thing, darlin’?” His hips jerk when you take him into your hands, the cold temperature surprising him.

“It’s definitely a good thing.” You whisper excitedly, staring with wonder as he hardens in your hands. He barks out a laugh, stunned by your ability to make him laugh, even with his dick in your hands. “That’s really nice, ma. I feel real special.” Your eyes meet, and silent promises of all the filthy things you’re going to do to each other are exchanged. “You should. I’m about to change your life.” He throbs in your hands, loving that you find small ways to challenge him.

“Come on. Let’s go to bed.” He wraps his arms around you in preparation to get up, but you stop him with a shake of your head. “I don’t wanna.”

“No? What you wanna do then?”

You answer him by slipping to your knees. You spit on his dick, stroking him up and down slowly. He watches you closely as you lower your mouth, wrapping your lips around the tip. It takes a lot of restraint, but he lets you do your thing, slowly working him deeper into your throat. He closes his eyes as he concentrates on lasting, but he can’t turn his ears off, the obscene smacks painting a vivid picture for him. When you swipe your tongue across his balls, he moves to stop you, grabbing your shoulders. Fire dances in your eyes as you realize you got him where you want him. “I don’t wanna.” You repeat.

“You are a brat.”

You release him with a pop. “The biggest.” You admit, swallowing him once more. He groans, thinking he can’t believe you’re the same sweet girl who bakes in a frilly pink apron and begs him to tell her bedtime stories.

“I want you to fuck me now.” He stops you before you can bend over the couch. “Slow down. I want you on your back, darlin.”

You throw his earlier words back at him. “That’s nice. I feel really special.”

“You should.” He mocks you, instructing you to hold your legs wide. He wastes no time licking and sucking you as enthusiastically as you had done him. “You’re so pretty. I could eat this pretty pussy forever.” He compliments as you squirm in his hold. “You’d let me, huh?” You shake your head frantically. “No! You’d drive..me crazy!” Payback is a mother, especially when Rio’s the one dishing it out. “Wait, wait—“You whimper, clawing at his shoulders.

“What?” He cajoles. He almost wants to laugh at the distressed look on your face. “I want you.” You pout, trying to sweet-talk him.

“You have me.”

“Not like this. Inside.”

“Yeah? You sure?”

“Mhm.” You swallow, watching as he fumbles around with his pants searching for a condom. He opens the golden foil packet with expert fingers, positioning himself in between your spread legs. “You don’t have any pointers for me now?” He drags his tip up and down your slit, slowly pushing his way further. Teasing. You shake your head. “No. Just fuck me.”

“That ain’t polite. You gotta say please, mama.” You scowled, but he didn’t budge. “Please.” You pleaded with the sweetest tone you could muster, sighing as he gave in. You cursed at the stretch, him at the way you squeezed him. “You feel…” He couldn’t find the words, so he buried his face in your neck, trying to gain some composure. You caressed the back of his neck sweetly. “You feel good too, baby.”

His hips stuttered forward, and you gasped as he worked himself deeper. You grasp his shoulders tightly, your nails embedding themselves into the soft skin.

“Yes!” You squeal.

“Like that?” He grits out, struggling to keep his rhythm.

“Yes, just like that!” You cry, moaning as he pounds up into you. His lips find yours again, and it’s bliss. Then before you can stop yourself, you’re calling him Daddy like it’s his given name. He groans into your sweaty neck like he’s in pain.

“You’re so nasty.” Overwhelmed and breathless, you whine your protest, “You’re nasty. Look at what you’re doing to me.” His eyes shift to where you’re connected. You’re creaming all over him and leaking down onto the couch, but you can’t bring yourself to care about anything other than coming. You do just that, mewling as you make an even bigger mess between your legs. He whispers filthy things into your ear as he finishes, grunting at the way you seem to be sucking him in even deeper.

“That was—“

“—unreal.”

“Yeah.”

Neither of you can bring yourself to move. Your sweat-covered skin sticks together. You swipe your hand against your forehead while he pants.

“I wanted to ride you at least once tonight, but after that, I’ll be lucky to make it to bed.”

GENERAL TAGLIST

@woahitslucyylu @briannab1234 @sheeshgivemeabreak @breakingnewsin-no-oneasked @angelreyesgirl @blessedboo @glimmerglittergirl @apantherinmypastlife @brownsugarcoffy @marvelmaree @starrynite7114 @scuzmunkie @thewarriorprincessxo @sadeyesgf @pearlkitten33 @imanerdychubbyqueen @literaturefeen @ourlittlesecretsoveragain @everyhowlmarksthedead @yourwonkywriter @trulysuccubus @sparklemichele @luckyharley1903

RIO TAGLIST

@xsweetdellzx​

[genshin-impact-fics]

Finding out You're in the Fatui

Characters: Jean, Childe, Keqing, Albedo, Diluc, Xiao

Diluc:

Whatever way he finds out he’s very upset; he trusted you, he fell in love with you yet now he finds out you’re with the enemy? He’s fearing that everything that’s happened between the two of you was a lie, that you just used him until you got what you needed. His brain is just in a storm of thoughts

He wants to believe that you’re good at heart, that all of this was because you didn’t have much of a choice. He’s going to ask questions, but more importantly he will offer you a way out: abandon the Fatui and just live with him he will vow to protect you and even find a safe area to work if employment was a concern of yours

If you accept his offer he’s glad that he didn’t have to lose you, he loves you too much and it’d be just too sad for him to have to cut ties with you especially since you’re the first one he’s felt such strong feelings for

But if you refused and you made it clear that you willingly joined the Fatui, he’s absolutely heartbroken. He’d probably start crying out of how painful the reality of the situation was and try to beg you to leave and stay with him. He does not have the heart to even consider having to fight you, he didn’t want to harm you yet here you were showing a completely different side to you that not even he caught onto

Xiao:

He is enraged at the new information when he finds out. He curses himself for being so blind and having trusted you as much as he did. How could he be calm about this; you played a hand in the fall of the archon he served under, the archon that saved him from his horrible past and gave him a new purpose in life. How could he ever forgive you for such a betrayal

Though he refuses to bloody his hands with those of mortal blood, he will lash out and attack you. His heart hurts as how could he let this happen, he loved you yet was this the world’s way of punishing him for his past he could only wonder

If you plea to him to listen to your explanation he’s conflicted; you were either telling the truth or you were lying to just buy yourself some time… But he stopped and kept a safe distance from you as though you hurt his trust in his heart he still very much loves you so if there was a glimmer of hope that you can be saved he would be willing to listen to judge for himself. His expression softens when learning that you essentially got forced and trapped into working in the Fatui and at that point he is willing to keep you with him which mainly consisted of you living at the Wangshu Inn with him

However if you confirm that you’re in the Fatui of your own choosing he’s hurt, but he’s already withdrawing his own emotions so it didn’t get in the way of his duties. You’re no longer the mortal he fell in love with, you were just another mortal trying to use him for your personal gain. He’ll warn you to never to return and that you are no longer permitted to call out his name because from that moment on you were enemies

Albedo:

Deep down he didn’t want to accept the possible fact you were potentially bad. There were small things you did or said that made him slightly skeptical of you yet he overlooked them because he was in love with you, there was something that always made him so curious and so fascinated with you. You never judged him, you were patient with him, as you even put yourself at risk with plenty of his experiments

Of course this conversation was in the privacy of his lab in Dragonspine, surely there was no need to have a big scene be made especially when he wanted to simply hear what you had to say for yourself. He’s very composed and calm for someone who’s feeling this pain in his chest at the fact that you’ve kept this from him for so long

If you were truly innocent it saddens him to hear how you were stuck paying off a debt that wasn’t even your own and that was the only reason why you were stuck in the predicament that you’re in. Surely there had to be some way to hide you from the Fatui right? Maybe not up there in Dragonspine since there were already so many of the agents scouting the mountains, but maybe he could ask Jean if you could stay with him; however, that then led to another possible problem. If he tried to explain the details the fact that you were associated with the Fatui, Jean might just want to arrest you for interrogation which he might have to simply keep that knowledge to himself for the sake of your safety

But at any time you're telling your story he will call you out on something if he feels you weren’t being truthful. Hearing that you were a third generation agent he came to understand that it was initially a family legacy to uphold; rather unfortunate but oddly enough he still didn’t look down on you for that. Of course he’s unsure of what to do as things are surely to be complicated now, but how could he come to really see you as the enemy when he loves you

Regardless of the case, he will continue to stay with you; however, he’ll take a few precautions to insure his own safety. He won’t be sharing details of things he’s working on, no more asking to help with experiments (unless they’re just something mundane and nothing too serious), but other than that he just can only hope that you will continue to be truthful from there forth

Childe:

You are his favorite and it’s very obvious to everyone in the Fatui. You are just about the only exception out of all the agents that he will go a little bit easy on when it comes to missions not going accordingly. He love you to bits and surely made sure that you knew he was serious about your twos relationship

You are not allowed to go on missions with the other Harbingers, Childe is very keen on having you accompany him and only him on missions. He also personally sees to your training because he sees the potential in you and it just seemed like the other agents who are in charge of training don’t seem to up to the level that best benefited you

You get spoiled a lot, he also makes sure to always praise you after any mission or task you do: you had a minor task to go collect a debt? Childe will tell you a job beautifully done. You were away on a big mission that had to do with looking for evidence of the whereabouts of another archon? He’ll tell you how proud he is and how much he loves you. He will make a request the Tsaritsa to bestow a delusion onto you; cuz surely if one of her Harbingers is speaking so highly of someone truly they are worthy of her gift

There was already so much to love about you already but ever since he found out how good you were with his siblings he knew that you were the one for him. He can trust you to look after his siblings to keep them safe since they already know that you are his significant other (but of course have no clue either of you work in the fatui). You two are in Liyue and Teucer suddenly appears out of nowhere: you’re already prepared to take care of and look after the younger brother. Childe just loves how good you are with him and it shows how much Teucer likes you too. Childe only wish that he could marry you the next day (something he says often to you)

Jean:

Needless to say she was distraught when she stumbled upon you speaking in a hushed tone with La Signora in the dead of night in an alleyway during her patrol. She didn’t know what to think but of course she wanted to confront you yet she’d stay hidden and wait till you were alone which didn’t help her spiraling thoughts wondering if you had been with the enemy this whole time and what the two of you had was just pretend to you

The moment the coast is clear Jean will come out of hiding and stand tall with her arms over her chest though the expression on her face does not match the rest of her body language. She knows she should keep this professional without getting her emotions involved, but how could she not when it was you; you were her lover so naturally she can’t help it

You knew you were in trouble as you could have hightailed it the other way, but you knew it would only make matters worse though also even if you had run now you’d have to face her eventually so what was the point. You answered whatever question she asked you; Though Jean did have a slightly difficult time being able to tell when certain replies you gave were possibly a lie. It pains her to have to consider breaking up because she did love you yet how could she love someone that could pose a great threat to her home that she’s sworn to protect; would probably have you put into custody for a while just to fully ensure that you weren’t just a spy or scheming behind the knights of favonius’ back

You of all people did Jean not expect to have such a high standing in the Fatui; you weren’t just some agent to be stationed there, you were a younger sibling of one of the harbingers overseeing everything the agents did. It made everything all the more painful for Jean as she thought she finally found someone who understood her and loved her despite her business along with her flaws, but she started to doubt your relationship. She’d have to take you in for further questioning to see what information you’ve leaked out, but when you made a run for it Jean knew she should chase after you yet… She let you escape, she didn’t want you getting hurt as for this one time will she let you do so; however, if you two crossed paths again unfortunately you’d give her no other choice but to warrant your arrest

Keqing:

She’s surprised at the fact that you’re associated with the Fatui, but of course she’s going to act as if it doesn’t bother her or hurt her in the slightest (though we all know just how badly she’s hurting on the inside). She knew it was too good to be true that you so happened to share the same ideologies and that you got along so beautifully.

She has put so much trust in you that she’s brought you up to the Jade Chamber with her to have peaceful tea time dates a couple of times before its destruction. Yet you made her look like a fool, as even if you never intended to hurt her or betray her, Keqing takes it very personally even if her love for you runs deep

Regardless whether or not you were good of heart that was trapped serving the Fatui or truly was lying about everything and using her that whole time she will coldly cut you off. She’s putting on her tough act saying how she simply cannot love a traitor that has put liyue in harm's way

It’s not until she’s alone or possibly just with Ganyu that Keqing breaks down into tears sobbing over her heartbreak. Nothing hurt more than letting you go, how she wanted to give you that second chance, but she couldn’t let love cloud her judgement, as maybe one day in the future you two could be together, but for now she’d need time to heal though she probably never really gets over you

[capricorn-stark]

Protégé

pairing: red hood!jason todd x robin!reader, slow burn 

warning: swearing

a/n: for context, this is somewhat loosely based off of Battle for the Cowl (2009) which I definitely recommend as a read! 

There was something about falling that you would never, ever get tired of. 

Ever. 

Probably.

With the wind whistling in your ears, your hair floating up in a million directions, and your limbs seemingly weightless as the buildings and lights blurred into one endless streak of color, the rush of adrenaline that ran through your body right before your grappling hook shot out and you landed quietly on the concrete was about a million times better than any sparring session back at the cave. 

You grinned as you straightened, rather proud of the fact that you had actually managed to land so smoothly without nearly paralyzing yourself. Again.The landing was something you had been working on for a while now.

You could practically hear Bruce’s voice ringing through your head after your little stunt, lamenting on and on about how you had more important things to focus on during patrols, and you let out a sigh as you ran down the backway of the nearly empty streets. 

The heavy man who had been bound up with a decently made gag and one of Bruce’s fancy tech pieces (Batcuffs, maybe? Something else with Bat smacked in front of it?) grunted beside you. 

“What? Not like you had someplace to be.” You grabbed the back of his rather tacky-looking spandex suit to drag him along back to where your mentor was supposed to be.

Despite your (many) disagreements and his (many) criticisms of your hand-to-hand combat skills, attitude issues, and pretty much everything else relating to you, Bruce had actually still allowed you to go off on your own tonight. It might’ve been because he wanted a few hours of nothing but beating up petty criminals by himself for stress-relief, it might’ve been because he had started trying out that whole independence thing with you a little more (even though you were still only permitted to be about five blocks or so away), it might’ve been plot-convenience - but either way, you appreciated the gesture.

It didn’t take long for you to pull your new friend over to what should’ve been your rendezvous point with Batman, letting the man drop with a dull thud and a grunt of protest against the concrete as you glanced around for the other man. You weren’t particularly concerned by the fact that the Bat himself wasn’t there yet - after all, he was the goddamn Batman. He’d show up eventually. In the meanwhile, you decided to go over the information you had gotten on the criminal with you. 

Just for the sake of it. Bruce would make you go over it anyways.

“Drury Walker, thirty-two years old, found him trying to mug someone in a back alley and make an escape. Called himself…” you paused, looking down at his sorry-looking outfit for a few moments while he looked up at you with murder and vengence in his eyes. “...Killer Moth.”  

“Killer Moth?” A completely new voice repeated in disbelief, causing you to immediately whirl around to face them in a fight stance, heart racing at a million miles per hour. The guy in front of you had his hands up in the air, his face concealed with some sort of red knock-off Iron Man helmet. He was gonna get copyrighted by Marvel Studios. “Shit, sorry,” he started at the sight of you, still leaning up against one of the walls. “I was supposed to make a wholeass dramatic entrance, but you said his name was Killer Moth and that-” The man made a noise that was either a sharp cough or a laugh of some kind. “-sounded so fucking lame I couldn’t help myself.” 

Despite the fact that you were definitely in some sort of major trouble with this new guy, he really did have a point. Even Killer Moth himself would’ve been embarrassed by how trash his name was, if not for the fact that he looked like he was on the verge of an aneurysm - understandably so, since the new guy had produced not one, but two guns out of apparently nowhere. 

“And let me guess,” he continued, pointing one of them at your head, his tone still all-too light and easy. “You must be the Bat’s brand-new Robin.” 

Now this is where most people would've shut up and proceeded to be complicit with the dude holding two guns. But Batman hadn’t seen reason and made you his (sort of) partner because you were like other people. Hell no.

“Do I look like a traffic signal to you?” It had been the very first of your amendments with Bruce. You would not be fighting crime looking like a literal traffic signal or, at best, a clown from Haly’s Circus. And the tiny green shorts had to go. “Or Robin Hood?” The guy had a rather awkward pause where his gun sort of dipped. Killer Moth was looking between you with wide eyes. “Do I?” 

“I guess you kinda got a point.” You huffed and he raised his gun again, getting more in-your-face as his already angry-looking helmet somehow managed to look angrier. You weren’t exactly sure how a helmet could convey so much emotion. “But you work with Batman. And I heard you went by Robin.” 

Okay, so you couldn’t make him change the name, but you had agreed it would be more of an honorary thing.

“It’s complicated.” 

Using such a phrase as an excuse to escape from situations you didn’t want to go into was one of the many things you had learned from Bruce in your five months of training. Somehow, that seemed to trigger the guy further.

“So you do work with Batman.” 

Before he could do something actually insane, you had managed to push the gun pointed at your head away from you, using his brief second of surprise to take it out of his hands, kick him in the chest, and round back on him with it in hand. 

“And what about it?” 

As cool as you thought you might’ve sounded didn’t cover for the fact that you were still nerve-wracked about what was happening right then. Especially after the guy started to dramatically slow-clap like some sort of evil thespian in a high school drama. 

“Not bad, Robin. Not bad.” He looked at the gun in your hands and grinned. “If you weren’t Batman’s new replacement sidekick, I might’ve believed you had the balls to use that thing.” 

Now, you were an excellent fighter. You had to be, after your excessive training with the guy who had literally mastered about every martial art in existence during his (give or take) five year-long mission to find himself. Plus, some personal experience. But fighting someone like this guy? Built like a tank and padded up in a whole lot of armor and packing an assortment of knives, guns, and even a damn taser you got a first-hand taste of?

You fought hard, but about five minutes and another round of the taser later, you saw the knock-off Iron Man helmet staring down at you before the world went black.

~*~

You woke up in what you assumed was the self-dubbed Red Hood’s safehouse of sorts. 

“How the hell did he rope you into this shit?” he demanded with what you could only assume was him glaring at you through the helmet. Probably some expression that made someone look all angsty and annoyed - which was fair, since he had been trying to drill you for information you straight up refused to give while bound (way too tightly) to a chair for quite some time now. Rather rude. “Let me guess. You watched your parents die.” You stared at him before shrugging.

“Nope.”

“Oh, so they just went ahead and died somehow. Untimely accident caused by some psycho bitch in a Spirit Halloween costume.”

“…nope.” 

“They abandoned you as a child.”

“No, they didn’t - does divorce count?” 

Red Hoodlum’s hands kept clenching and unclenching while he stood there, staring at the wall behind you in silence. From the way his chest kept rising and falling, you were tempted to believe he was practicing breathing exercises amidst his rather violent twitching. 

“Divorce - what the hell is your trauma supposed to be? Why did he pick you?!”

“Hey, just because my trauma doesn’t include people dying doesn’t make it any less traumatic,” you scoffed in response, knowing you were absolutely right about that. Your middle school guidance counselor had said so (and it’s true, ladies and gentlemen, trauma comes in many forms!). “Kinda rude to assume it didn’t affect me somehow.”

He seemed rather abashed at that and you heard him clear his throat a little. 

“...right, yeah. Sorry.”

“Apology accepted - can you loosen these ropes a little? It’s starting to kinda hurt.” 

“Do I look ten? That’s the oldest trick in the book, I’m not gonna-”

“I’m not going to run, just loosen the ropes a little.” He still looked like he didn’t believe you. “Come on, I don’t think I can outrun your guns.” As in his literal array of guns tacked up to the wall behind him, not his gigantic biceps. 

And you weren’t too worried about being held hostage by him, either. You figured you had ten minutes tops before Batman burst in through the doorway, ready to give you a lecture on why straying from the specifically designated parts of Gotham he had let you traipse around was a terribly stupid idea. 

“No.” He was already walking towards the door, because apparently, he had enough of trying to interrogate you. 

“Hold on, I feel like my wrists are actually about to start bleeding or something - where are you going?”

“Keep talking and I’m gonna get the duct tape.” 

“Is that a threat?” Sounding more confident than you actually felt should eventually make you more confident. Eventually. 

The Red Hood sucked in a breath, stopping by the doorway and turning to face you, reaching into his pockets to get what you assumed was either a gun or duct tape when you both startled from a sudden crash. The man in front of you was already whirling around with two guns positioned to shoot when you heard the familiar voice of someone else.

“Hold your fire, soldier. I’m not here for you.” A pause. “Or I wasn’t, but now I kind of am.”

Apparently, Batman was too busy to save you. Now, you got Nightwing. 

And as much as you liked Nightwing, that still kinda stung. 

[wickedw3asleys]

JUST LIKE HEAVEN (Pt.2)

Fred x female reader (mentions of George)

AN: it is 5am i cannot sleep i need help oh my god i am SWEATING, FRED WEASLEY WILL BE THE DEATH OF ME. he's a dom and i do not accept any kind of criticism. Okay but more seriously, thank you so much for the support for the 1st part! I truly appreciate it and I hope you'll like this one as much as the first one!

WARNINGS: smut smut smut smut and more smut... unprotected sex... and cussing

A few days had passed after your talk with Fred and George.

And still nothing had happened.

And you never thought you'd be so eager for one of them to reach out to you to fill his needs. But you weren't going to be the one to give in first.

And they knew what they did to you, because the first moment they saw you after the big talk they started teasing the shit out of you, and you were too easy to piss off, way too horny to have patience with them. Could be an accidental brush of George's hand on your thigh; Fred whispering things in your ear that weren't necessarily explicit; or again, George finding any kind of excuse to touch you, even the slightest... And that drove you crazy. And the fact that they exactly what they were doing, only made it worse, them making clear that they wanted you.

And today was the day that your patience was at its limits. So you were going to play it reverse on them, and make them suffer a little bit.

You decided to just play it cool, not to look to hard for them, and just let the big boys come to you, as they liked to call themselves. So when you least expected, you saw them appear with the biggest grins on their faces.

You were hanging out with Hermione and Luna at the library, and once again you were going crazy with your studies. You already have had 2 exams, and you could feel your brain slowly dying from all the information it was absorbing.

So obviously, when the twins saw you in such a frustrated state, they knew once again how to play their cards.

"Oh, darling... You look so stressed...", Fred came behind you, "and those shoulders! You're way too tense..."

He winked at his brother and put his hands on your shoulders, slowly massaging them.

Hermione looked at you with an interrogating gaze, not really sure if she should say something or not, to what you unconsciously shrugged your shoulders.

Fred dominantly put his hand on the back of your neck, applying a slight pressure to the sides of your neck, "Keep still, sweetheart..."

You could feel the blood rushing up to cheeks and to other unholy places on your body.

"What. The. Hell.", Hermione mouthed to you, Luna getting more and more confused about all the situation, since she was way too preoccupied reading her Astronomy book.

"I. DON'T. KNOW.", you mouthed back.

Fred continued to massage and apply pressure on your shoulder and the back of your neck, and you felt like you were going completely mad. And when you saw George glancing at his brother, you knew this was another one of their games; so why not join in?

You sighed, mouthed a quick "sorry" to the two girls and started playing.

"Freddie! Oh my god! You're so good!", you softly moaned, stretching your back and neck. You could catch a confused and nervous look on George's face, who was once again looking at his brother, expecting a reaction from him.

"Mmhhh... you like that?", he whispered down to your ear. Fuck, he was a way too good player.

You turned your face to his, just to be a few inches from his lips. "Yeah, I like it...", you said, trying to sound convincing; when you knew that you were affected by him to your bloody core.

You could feel his breath shake as he straighten up, leaving a satisfied smile on your face.

"And what about you, Georgie?", you asked, looking at him with puppy eyes, "How's my favorite Weasley?"

"I'm fine...", he said, smirking, "Why? You missed me, darling?"

You couldn't see any type of nervousness in him, he never answered wrong, always continuing the game.

Not wanting to leave poor Hermione and Luna alone, you decided after a while to semi ignore the twins, and go back to your conversation with the girls, including the boys in from time to time, and when you could feel Fred being totally distracted, you made your killer move.

"OH! I'm so sorry, Fred!", you said, looking how your ink pot just had fallen on his lap.

"Damn it!"

Everybody had taken a few steps back, not wanting to have ink all over them, and when Hermione got up to go for some tissues, you got on your knees and started wiping Fred's thigh with your robes. Fortunately you knew a spell that would make these stains go away, otherwise you wouldn't have sacrificed yourself like that.

The sight of your on your knees, a hand on his upper thigh and the other one wiping the ink stains that were dangerously close to his dick, almost made him cum in his pants. He had spent too much time without doing anything and you being you didn't made it better. You've always drove him completely mad, and the fact that you've actually accorded to be shared between him and his brother was all he could have ever asked for.

He dominantly grabbed your hand, "Bloody hell, Y/N! Stop!", he groaned between his teeth, making sure no one else but you could hear him.

"What's wrong?", you asked innocently, looking up at him through your lashes.

"Shit", he groaned.

He quickly got up, took his brother by the arm and left the library.

"Oh... Where did they go?", Hermione asked with the tissues in her hand.

"I don't know...", you couldn't help but smile victoriously. You've beaten Fred Weasley at his own game. You've put down one of the two twins. You still had to win against George, and from what you've been observing, he'd be the harder one to play against; fooling everybody with his innocent looks.

"Am I right saying that there was completely an unsolved tension in here for a second?", Luna asks.

"Y/N, what the hell was all this?!", Hermione says, clearly aware of what's happening.

"It's just a game! Nothing harmful! Don't worry", you smile, blushing.

"I don't know what kind of games you're playing with them but when I saw Fred going through that door he looked like he could spit fire...", Hermione points out, "I just hope you know what you're doing..."

"I do, Mione... I've talk to them..."

"What do you mean you've talked to them?", Luna asks, curious.

"Oops...", you say as you start getting up and taking your books with you, earning a gasp and shocked laugh from both of them. You winked at the girls and got out of the library.

There wasn't a lot of students out in the corridors at this time of the evening. It was almost bed time so everybody was either in their common rooms or still at the library, just like Hermione and Luna.

So when you felt a hand on the back of your neck again, you felt relief that no one was there.

"Good night, Freddie...", you smiled, his hand adding pressure.

"I hate you", he says between his teeth.

"Oh... Why is that?", you pout. If he'd thought he was the only one able to play this game, he was damn wrong.

"Don't play innocent here, you knew what you were doing"

"Just how you knew what you were doing to me for the past days. Both you and your brother. Am I wrong?", you tried turning your head, but his grip on your neck didn't let you, "Didn't your mother tell you to not play with your food, Freddie?"

The smirk you had on your face the second you pronounced these words could have killed Fred in an instant. It was the weirdest, yet most erotic, thing a girl have ever said to him, and he felt those words resonate through his whole body, specially under his pants.

"Fuck...", he groaned. He grabbed your arm and started leading you. You didn't knew where but you wanted to follow him so bad right now, nothing could have stopped you. You wanted him and you knew the feeling was reciprocal.

You turned a corner and arrived at the second-floor girl's bathroom. Fred quickly opened the door, making sure no one saw them go in and the second the door closed, his pressed his lips against yours. Almost with anger. He was so eager to kiss you...

Neither of you took the time to completely undress the other, you just stayed there, him pressing his body on yours, devouring your mouth.

Without breaking the kiss, he started leading you to the sinks, where he lifted you and sat you. Your skirt almost lifted to your waist and his hands fiercely groping your thighs.

"How DARE you come snog in MY bathroom?!", a whining voice made you both jump, trying to regain your breath.

"Mimi!", Fred breathed out, "Sorry! W-we..."

"Oh... Hi, Frederick...", Moaning Myrtle slowly approached Fred, not even paying attention to you, "You're looking good tonight...", she says.

"You too, Mimi, but we're kind in the middle of something right now...", he says, awkwardly.

"Oh... I see that...", she says, glaring at you in anger.

"Hi, Myrtle..."

"Come on Myrtle, please... I promise to make Harry come visit you tomorrow, but please, please, let us stay here...", he pleaded. You could hear the desperation in his voice and that only turned you on even more.

Moaning Myrtle was taking his proposal in consideration, and quickly ended up agreeing. "Tell him I want to see him in that grey shirt he always wears, he looks so good in it...", she says before completely disappearing in the darkness of the bathroom.

"Wow... So Moaning Myrtle too, huh?", you teased Fred.

"Yeah, yeah, don't start", he quickly cupped your face with one hand and started kissing you again, this time with more passion, more fire. He was kissing you as his life depended on it, his hands always groping your skin; your thighs, your stomach, your waist... He was like an animal, so eager and needy. And you loved every bit of it.

Fred pulled out from your lips and started going down, kissing your jaw... You neck... Licking it and making sure to leave at least two or three visible marks for him to admire the next day. You moaned when he started kissing that sweet spot of you, just behind your ear, as he started slightly pulling your hair. That combination would be the death of you.

"Fuck, Fred...", you moaned in his ear. He raised his head and took a second to finally admire your messed up state, which only made him want to go rough on you.

He leaned in again and started kissing you while unbuttoning your white shirt, not losing a single second. Just as he kept unbuttoning it, he started kissing your chest until it was completely at sight. He groaned to himself when he saw the black lace bra you were wearing that day.

This time, you were the one to not lose time. The second your blouse was unbuttoned, you started attacking his pants, taking of his belt and lowering it a little so you could play with the elastic of his boxers.

"Wait...", he suddenly stopped.

"What? What are you- FUCK!", you loudly moaned as you saw him going down on his knees before you and taking your clit in his mouth. Your hands directly went to his hair, pulling it gently.

You could have come by the simple sight of what was happening, Fred on his knees eating you out, his hair all messy and his arms strongly around your thighs.

"Oh my-... Yes, just like that", you moaned again, making Fred chuckle against you, sending vibrations through you.

He started placing little kisses and kitten licks all over your pussy, licking every inch of it, making it his.

"If you keep... FUCK! Doing this... I'm going to cum... Oh my god, Fred..."

He chuckled again and stopped his movements to look up at you. Fuck, you were looking so pretty, already all fucked up.

He got up, never breaking eye contact with you. He was literally towering you, you sitting on the small sink, your legs around his waist.

He was going to start kissing you again when you stopped him, putting your soft hand on his clothed chest.

"Wait... My turn...", you seductively said, slowly kneeling.

He instantly knew what you were about to do, so he helped you lowered his pants down a little.

"Bloody hell, you're so big...", you whispered.

"Well, wait are you waiting for?", he said, lifting up your chin.

Your mouth instantly started drooling the moment you took him in your mouth. You slowly lowered your head down his shaft, taking all you could of him in your mouth, and then up again.

You started licking his tip and his sides, trying to get it as wet as you could.

"Y/N... Fuck... You're so good at this...", you felt his body lean against the sink you were previously sitting on, and saw his hand grab the edge of it to gain support. "Keep going please, keep going..."

You did as he pleaded. You slowly started to bob your head up and down his dick, both of you making the most sinful sounds. You could feel him throb in your mouth as your lowered your head more and more, and you loved it.

Suddenly, he grabs you by the hair and lifts you up again, helping you sit on the sink again.

"Legs up for me, will you sweetheart?", he says, caressing your inner thighs.

"If you ask so nicely...", and you lifted your legs to wrap them around his waist.

Fred sucked his thumb and lowered it to your clit, drawing figures eight on it, slowly.

"Mmmhhh...", you moaned, throwing your head back.

"Are you ready?", he asks, his thumb still on your clit.

"Yes", you smiled back at him, locking eyes with him and not breaking contact when he entirely slid into you.

"Merlin, you're so tight...", Fred moaned in the crook of your neck.

You grab him by the shoulders and let him start thrusting in and out of you; first at an awful slow pace, making him bite your neck.

"Come on, darling...", you encouraged him. And with that, as if something lightened up inside him, he straightened himself, towering over you again, and roughly putting one of his hands around your neck and the other one around your thigh. That made him gain stability, so he started thrusting deeper and harder tan before.

"YES! Oh my god... Yes...", you put your forehead against his and closed your eyes shut, lost in the feeling.

"Yeah... Like that...", he says, going even faster, hitting that special spot of yours that made you almost scream. "That's it, darling... Show me where I am..."

You clumsily took his hand and tried to find on your lower abdomen the spot that Fred was hitting so you could show him how deep he was buried in you.

"Oohh, yes... There it is...", he says, feeling his tip brushing against his hand. He applied more pressure to your abdomen, making his dick hit that spot again and again.

"FUCKKKKK! YES!", you screamed, eyes almost rolling back in your head.

"Look at me, sweetheart, look at me...", Fred took your face and started to thrust deeper and harder just to watch your reaction, to which he wasn't disappointed. Your swollen lips, messy hair and the spots he had been leaving along your neck and chest were the most beautiful view ever.

He started massaging your breast through your bra as he once again increased his speed.

All you could do was messily breathe and loudly moan as he trusted in and out of you. He was so big. Stretching you so good. And the fact that he was being so rough yet so gentle with you was insane.

Once again he brought his hand to your clit, slowly massaging it and making you moan even louder.

"Ssshhhh... Sweetheart, do I have to remind you how to be quiet?", he says, his hand against your mouth.

You remembered the moment he first pressed his big hand on your mouth, all the thoughts that were crossing your mind and all the fantasies you've created because of that specific moment, and now all of them where becoming reality.

"Do I reckon you like my hand on you like this, right?", he smiled, thrusting deeper.

Your screams were now muffled by his hand, but he could see your eyes starting to water, which only made him increase the pace.

You were a moaning mess, your nails going to his back, his arms and chest, also leaving your little marks.

"Come on, I want you to see yourself when you cum...", he says before slipping out of you and turning you, now facing the mirror.

He put his hand where it belonged: your neck. And started to kiss you again, looking at you through the mirror's reflection.

With no previous notice, he slammed into you from behind, making your face contort in pleasure.

"Oh my god...", you say, trying to grab the edge of the sink.

He pulled your hair again, leaning your head back on his chest.

"Look at you...", he says, "so fucking... pretty..."

He brought his free hand to your clit again, the new angle making it easier for him to massage it in the correct way.

That made you scream again, feeling your legs fail you.

"I've got you, darling... Come on...", he whispered, tightly holding on to you.

He continued his relentless attack on your pussy and clit, making the pleasure almost unbearable for you.

"F-Fred... I-I'm c-cumming... SHIT!"

He smirked at your reflection and didn't stop his thrusting until he felt your inner walls tightly close again his cock. The feeling of you cumming with him inside you made it impossible for him to hold any longer, so as he was helping you riding your orgasm, he chased his own one, both of you moaning loudly in the other's ears and clinging to each other as your lives depended on it.

He stayed inside you a few more seconds, trying to regain his breath and strength.

"I think that deserves a big high five...", you say, lazily raising your hand.

He weakly moaned, trying to high five you, but terribly failed.

He finally got the strength to pull out of you with a hiss, slowly pulling his dick out and letting a pool of both of your fluids form in the sink.

"Thank you", he breathed out, kissing your forehead.

"No! Thank you!"

"I knew this was a good idea!", he says, proud of him.

"The most brilliant idea you've ever had...", you say, helping him putting his belt back on.

"What are you doing?", he asks.

"That, my friend, is a souvenir...", you laughed, patting the panties you just put in his pocket.

"Oh, you're a nasty one... Very, very nasty...", he smirks.

"You have no idea...", you say, kissing his neck again. "Let's go, before the others start asking too many questions"

"We're definitely doing that again, I hope you know that...", he says, entering the Gryffindor common room.

"Isn't that why we've talked about it, you git?" you laughed.

"Hey, where were you two?", Hermione asks, "We've been waiting for you for almost two hours!"

"Oh, we just quickly went to visit Moaning Myrtle...", you say, eyeing how George was looking at the marks on your neck, "Harry by the way, she wants you there tomorrow with your grey shirt. No discussion!"

You hear Harry groan and throw his head in his hands, "Why? Why did you this to me? Why do you hate me so much!?!"

"Come on, she's not that bad...", you say, sitting next to George.

"How does she even know I have that shirt?!", he starts whining, but soon enough, your attention was turned to George, who was playing with the back of your skirt.

"Looking good...", he whispered, "Who would have thought you're such a dirty player?"

"You have no idea...", you smirked.

He looked at you and chuckled, "You'll show me soon enough...", he said, discretely placing his hand on your inner thigh.

You looked up trying to see if anyone was looking at you, but for your luck, they were too busy hearing Harry whine about Myrtle. And then, you crossed Fred's gaze. He winked at you and raised to you his plastic bottle and drank a sip, that making George chuckle again.

For Goddrick's sake... These two were going to drive you completely mad...

[mimi-cee-hq]

A Glimpse of Yellow: Suna x f!reader - Chapter 2

« Chapter 1 | Masterlist

Read on AO3

Relationships: Suna x f!reader, mostly platonic!Inarizaki x f!reader

Summary:

Despite being Atsumu's best friend, you barely knew his aloof and nonchalant teammate. Suna only made the occasional comment on the twins' antics when you were around.

So when you needed a way to escape from the twins' interrogations –including one about your longtime crush because you were definitely over him– Suna offered to walk with you after school to provide a way out. This raised a few eyebrows including yours.

Things got even stranger when the twins assumed you were dating Suna. And for some reason, he went along with it.

Genre, etc.: fluff, romance, friendship, getting together, fake dating, slow burn, acquaintances to friends to lovers, canon compliant, eventual angst but it's the shoujo type

Warnings: none

Words: 2.4k

*****

You bit your lip. How were you stuck in this situation again? You tensed your arms and gripped your shoulder straps. Suna was walking next to you. You wondered what was the best way to get out of this, preferably in a way that wasn't so awkward.

Over the past few days since your last walk, Suna hadn't said a word to you. Nothing had changed either. He'd still have the occasional conversation with the twins when you weren't around, but he never interacted with you.

The embarrassing thing was that you had tried to greet him yesterday to be polite. When you saw him walk down the hall, you gave him a wave, only to be ignored as he passed you, staring at his phone. You felt the heat rising on your face, hoping nobody saw what happened.

But despite that, you chose to walk with him today. The twins had started chatting about Interhigh and the different teams to watch out for this year. It was only the beginning of the school year and they were already creating strategies for June's tournament. When they gave their critiques and criticisms of the various players, you became stiff and your shoulders grew heavy. You wanted to get out of that conversation, and Suna provided a way out.

You sighed, unsure of your decision to accept Suna's offer to walk together. You glanced at him, attempting to analyze his face. His eyes weren't glued to his phone surprisingly. Instead he took a glance at you from the corner of his eye. You widened your eyes and quickly turned away. That lamppost was suddenly much more interesting to look at.

A train signal sounded and wheels clattered at a distance. You sighed at the thought of being stuck with Suna, waiting for the train to pass. Looking around for something to get you out of this, a store sign to the right caught your eyes.

"Oh!" you thought to yourself, eyes perking up. "I forgot to check that out!" You glanced at your phone. You were fifteen minutes earlier than usual.

You spun to the right and took a few steps. Suna's shadow followed. "Why was he coming too?" You sighed, deciding to just give up. At least being at the store wouldn't be as awkward. You would have something to occupy yourself.

After entering through the front door, you passed by some athletic shirts and tank tops. Metal and wood bats leaned against the shelves where baseball gloves hung. You stopped at a small stand and rotated it to the right. There were a couple of balls striped with green and red amidst a bunch of blue and yellow ones. You didn't need another volleyball. You stopped turning the stand at the white and black knee pads. Crouching down, you picked up a pair. Its plastic covering crinkled under your grasp.

"Who's that for?" Suna asked, looking over your shoulder. You suddenly straightened your back, nearly jumping at his voice. You had almost forgotten he was here. Holding the knee pads, you thought that he must have noticed they were junior sized.

"It's a gift," you simply replied.

You approached the cashier and then waited for her to ring in the knee pads. But then something odd happened. Suna held out a candy stick to you. You eyed him before receiving it. The candy flopped when you held it between your fingers.

"What's this?" you asked, though you knew exactly what it was.

"Fruit jelly," he replied. When you raised your eyebrow at him, he added, "It's a gift."

The cashier gave you your receipt along with the knee pads in a bag. "Well, that was weird," you noted, ripping open the jelly stick anyway and placing it in your mouth. Apple flavored. You squished the jelly with your tongue, enjoying its sweet taste.

You watched Suna fix his bag. Just when a bunch of jelly sticks were about to fall out of the box, Suna caught them. He fumbled a little as he straightened the candy back into place. Looking a little closer, you saw two more boxes.

"Pfft," you accidently let out a laugh. He must like those.

"Hm?"

"Nothing," you promptly replied before turning to the door.

*****

You glared at your fingers as you exited the gym. What the heck was that? Taking a deep breath, you walked towards the water fountain, hoping a drink would make you feel better.

You heard your teammates smacking their volleyballs, practicing their serves. It felt like you had messed up every single set during spiking practice. How were they supposed to have a proper warm up when your tosses didn't go anywhere you wanted? You mentally apologized to each of your teammates when you were setting. (Rika had gently forbidden you from saying sorry every single time.)

You smiled. Your teammates were always so encouraging, which was a contrast from your middle school years.

Click.

Your classmate was in front of you. Black pants, hand in his brown blazer, black phone, maroon tie, yellow narrow eyes. It was Suna.

You blinked.

He blinked as well.

"What are you doing?" you snapped at him, mildly annoyed. Saying that you didn't like getting your picture taken was an understatement. It was one thing to take one yourself. It was a different ballpark when it was someone else. You could already imagine how badly the picture must have turned out.

Click.

Click.

"Suna!" you lunged for his phone. "Stop it!" Was he trying to take a picture at every unflattering angle? "What the heck are you doing?" At this point you were jumping for his phone. He continued to dodge you.

"It's a nice picture," he flatly said.

"Yeah, right," you rolled your eyes as you reached for his phone.

"I just thought my–," Suna stopped midway through his thought. His arm was outstretched to the ceiling but after a few seconds he brought it back down to eye level. He sighed and showed you his phone. He had deleted the photos.

You narrowed your eyes and furrowed your brows. What was up with this guy? What was going through his mind?

"You two are so cute."

You jumped a little before turning around. It was Rika and Momo, two of your close teammates. They giggled and waved at you before heading back to warm up for the practice match.

"What was that about?" you wondered.

"Oh," Suna said with a calm face. "It's probably the rumours."

"Rumours?" You cocked an eyebrow at him.

"That we're dating."

It took you a moment to process what he just said. Then you spat out a laugh. "Pfft! What?! Where did that even come from?"

Suna only shrugged. "Who knows. Someone said he heard from one of our classmates."

You continued to laugh at how ridiculous this was. At the same time, your cheeks heated up at the awkwardness of this situation. It was already hard enough to hold a conversation with him. Now the two of you would have even more uncomfortable interactions in the future.

But after one look at Suna, you saw that none of this even fazed him. He continued to wear a straight face. Was he a robot or something? Did he not care? Was this just his personality?

All of your questions flew away when you got a glimpse of yellow hair from a certain twin. You quickly hid behind Suna's back. Hugging your arms, you clutched onto the short sleeve of your volleyball jersey.

"Atsumu's gone," Suna told you a few seconds later. He stared at you without much expression, but you both knew your actions weren't normal. He was curious.

When you didn't reply, Suna instead glanced at your black jersey. "So… you're number 10?" he asked.

You quickly looked down at your jersey. "Yeah," you rubbed the back of your neck. "I play setter. It's not like I get to play during games though." You fiddled with the hem of your jersey. "Our main setter is really good. Maybe almost as good as Atsumu. They don't really need me during the game."

You looked up at Suna to see a slight but soft smile. "You still need to cheer for your teammates."

Your eyes grew. You knew from his eyes and his matter-of-fact tone that he was serious. You never expected to hear that from him. Actually, you never expected to hear that from anyone. But then again, it's not as if Atsumu liked cheers in the first place.

"Uh… er… thanks?" you told him. You did cheer for your teammates. A lot. You knew how hard they worked and loved seeing their progress. Suna's comment made you feel like your cheers really did matter.

*****

The moment the waitress left your table, Atsumu's chopsticks went after your bowl of hot soba.

"Stop it!" you told him as you jousted him with your own utensils. "Get your own fried tofu!"

"But I ordered the tonkatsu already!" he replied. "You don't even eat it right away."

"That's because I'm saving the best for last!"

As the two of you bickered, Osamu proceeded to orient the dishes to your preferences. He put Atsumu's hard boiled egg in your bowl. Then, he scooped the scallions from your soba for his own soup and gave Atsumu a couple of his shrimp tempura.

"Fine, I'll trade. You can have some of my tonkatsu," Atsumu negotiated with you.

"Oh really?" you raised your eyebrow. "How much?"

"Here." Atsumu placed a sliver of tonkatsu in your bowl. You quickly stuffed it in your mouth. "Okay now give it to me," Atsumu demanded.

"Not for that tiny piece," you retorted.

"What the heck? You ate it already!"

"I didn't agree."

"'Samu!" Atsumu said. "Take the tofu from Y/n!"

"Uhh… No," Osamu replied as he continued to munch his food.

You saw the waitress giggle at your interactions. The owner rang up the bill for another customer, telling him that the three of you were always this lively. The small restaurant was warm and the steam from your soup tickled your nose.

Atsumu stuffed his mouth with a glob of rice. "Do yew wamma cam oveh tomowwrah?"

Before you could ask, Osamu translated, "Do you wanna come over tomorrow?" He added, "We bought a new game."

"Hmm… tomorrow?" you answered. "I think I have a –" A game. A volleyball game. "I'm hanging out with Rika and Momo," you replied.

Atsumu narrowed his eyes at you. Osamu noticed why you hesitated and changed the subject.

The three of you continued to eat until Atsumu exclaimed, "Oh! It's Suna!" and waved at him. You froze, wondering if you should turn around or not. You heard the chair next to you screech. Suna sat beside you and placed a tied bag with takeout containers on your table. You decide to continue eating your noodles.

"Wait! The girls' have a practice game tomorrow!' Atsumu suddenly remembered. "Are you playing tomorrow?"

You stayed quiet for a moment, stirring the noodles with your chopsticks. "I don't know. I'm not the coach." You knew that you wouldn't be playing though. You weren't good enough. You were fine with that.

"Did you practice the technique I showed you?" Atsumu questioned you. "What about your serve? Did you get better? You should also be working on your core muscles."

You pressed your lips together. You didn't want to reply. It wasn't like you knew what to say either. You allowed Atsumu to continue pestering you with questions. It wasn't always like this. How were you going to get out of it?

You then felt a light touch on your cheek. You furrowed your brows and glanced to the right. Suna's finger had poked you.

The twins' narrowed eyes mirrored each other. They couldn't believe what they were seeing.

"Ha? Those rumours were true?" exclaimed Osamu.

"Is this for real?" asked Atsumu.

How did they suddenly jump to that conclusion from one tiny gesture? Was this what confirmation bias looked like?

"Hmm… she does get super quiet when she first likes someone," noted Atsumu.

You froze. Were they really going to talk about this now?

"That's true," commented Osamu. "And then they only started talking to each other when you blabbed that she liked him."

You felt your face heat up. "H-Hey... you can stop now," you told them.

"Remember when she texted us in the middle of the night asking how she could get him to propose to her?" Atsumu exclaimed. "Because she couldn't stand not being married to him?"

"Did you get rid of your desktop picture with him yet?" Osamu pondered.

"Stop!" you groaned, your whole body heating up. "This is so embarrassing!"

"Yeah Samu, you shouldn't embarrass her in front of her boyfriend," Atsumu said as if he wasn't a perpetrator.

You groaned yet again. "I never said that we were dating." Could this get any more awkward?

You felt Suna give you nudge. When he got your attention, he asked, "Did you want to tell them?"

"Uh… What?"

"Did you want to tell them why you walked with me after school?" he clarified.

You narrowed your eyes. You walked with him to avoid talking to Atsumu about volleyball and that you were going to the park. Suna must have picked up on that. But in the current context, it sounded like he was asking to tell them if they were dating. Did he want to make it seem like you were dating? You didn't get it.

But if the two of you pretended to date, maybe he'd let you use him as an excuse on the days you'd go to the park. Maybe it would also get them off your back about your former crush. Was this what he was trying to do?

"Really? Are you sure about this?" you asked.

"Yeah," Suna replied, resting his chin on his palm. "I can tell them that you're my girlfriend."

He said that in a way where you could still say no. You didn't. So the twins freaked out. They took it as confirmation that you were dating.

This was an odd way to start a fake relationship – and you had no idea why Suna went along with it.

*****

Chapter 3 ›

I hope you're enjoying this so far. I won't be able to get the next chapter out for a bit since I'll be busy. But in the meantime, please consider liking and reblogging the story. Maybe even recommending it. :) I'd really appreciate it.

You can also send an ask or fill out this Google form to be added to my taglist so that you'll get a notification when I post the next chapter.

Taglist: @anejuuuuoy @madmelle @lilith412426 @kyleikie @wonhomarshmallow @rintomoj @kasaitashi @thepoeticfirefly

[unhinged-summer-fun]

the art of second place

chapter 7: tendril loving care

Elder God!Boba Fett x f!Reader (22+)

“No one’s died from having your child, so I’m. Can we try? Right now?”

His head bobbed up and down, and he didn’t let the table in his way stop him from climbing over to pull your face to his in a kiss.

Summary: You’re a sacrifice to the god who created the world and all its pieces, but what’s at the end of your fate isn’t what you quite expect.

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: ~6.7k

Content warnings (overall): Tentacle sex, size kink, breeding kink, alien/strange genitalia, preganananancy, fatal religious sacrifices.

Chapter warnings: earning the breeding kink tag, earning the pregnancy tag, earning the alien genitalia tag, swearing, fucking, cum inflation, poetry

Crossposted to AO3. | AO2P Masterlist

Chapter 1 | <- Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - Chapter 8 ->

You needed more time to process it. You compartmentalized like a professional, and quietly requested some space to absorb this. He looked almost saddened, that you didn’t react with either absolute disgust or absolute eagerness. You were as new to him as he was to you, you had to remind yourself. He never had a Magna in the Pocket, only subservient sacrificial Summas who were more grateful to be alive than curious about what kind of life they now had.

Nothing you looked through in the study seemed remotely helpful for this situation. There was no book of poetry, no ancient text, that could tell you what you should do next, save perhaps a few out-of-context lines from a book on alternative religion you suspected Boba kept around for personal amusement.

It is both Named and Nameless As Nameless, it is the origin of all things As Named, it is the mother of all things

Motherhood was the reason you were even down here. Abelina back up in the village, with all of her clever tricks and near-sighted scheming. You genuinely hoped she was doing alright, despite whatever bitterness you felt over those final ten days on the surface. Were you ready to make that kind of step? Did you want to follow in the footsteps of all the thousands of other women who’d stepped off the jumping block? Was it wise?

You caught glimpses of him, though this time it was you seeking solitude. You held your tongue before any nightly prayers, considering what to even say and finding you had nothing but questions. Prayers weren’t for finding answers, though, and your curiosity manifested in observation, the two of you quietly orbiting one another throughout the Pocket. You could feel him through the walls, in the walls, the whisper of his breath across your cheek though he never touched you. Three days, this went on. You’d worked out certain logical elements, accepting his truth as gospel, ironically, though you had your other questions as well.

The ambush happened at breakfast, as all your favorite moments were. Jittery after a long night of little sleep, you sat at the bench with your hands folded before you on the table. He turned to face you after finishing up at the stove. “Is this your interrogation, little cat?” he asked, crossing his arms and leaning comfortably on the counter.

“Nothing so aggressive. You’ve been forthcoming with whatever I ask, but I’m starting to see that there’s a lot I need to learn about asking questions.” He nods, but sighs.

“I could have told you everything, but you wouldn’t have believed me.”

“That time is in the past, Boba,” you said, not unkindly. “If there’s something you think I should know, just tell me.”

“There’s a whole lot of somethings,” he said warily.

“I do have specific questions, first.” The quirk of a smile pulled at the corner of his lips, and he bowed his head, signaling to you to start. “I know Meija was a large part of it, but why else did the Blessings stop?”

He takes a breath, considering. “The last thousand years have shown a marked change in Temple teachings, values. The Sacrifices were all incredibly naive, and innocent. Some even shook so hard they fainted upon hearing me speak. It made me uncomfortable to try and coax them into motherhood, or at least what qualifies as motherhood down here.” You nodded.

“When was the last?”

“I’ll answer your question, but first you should understand that my children aren’t always seen or appreciated by humankind. There are the visible ones, the three moons Meija and I made, trees and rivers and mountains from the adventurous, stars and storms and winds from the short-tempered, serpents and beasts and companions from the kind-hearted. Many of these things, humans have studied, categorized, the like. But there are others, smaller ones, unseen little miracles that are my children all the same.” He must have long ago reconciled that the mothers didn’t want much of any ownership over what they’d helped in creating, by the possessive note in his words. “There are elements and minerals too deep in the ground to be studied, there were important parts of the ecosystem which went extinct thousands of years ago, the only things remaining are their bones.

“I learned over the centuries, certain things about the process. How much they wanted to be here, be a mother for me, affected the outcome of their children, but the process affected them as well.”

“What do you mean?”

“Most mothers had stars, the ones that were uncertain about their commitment. They’re flung to the far reaches of the universe, smaller than a speck of sand to anyone on earth. Meija stayed longer than anyone, and she gave me three moons. I have so much poetry about our children, it. I was. She. I suppose she was always a bit out of reach of me, in the end.”

“Is... is there an emotional connection, between you and your children?” you asked carefully.

“Yes,” he said emphatically. “Seeing, being there for each birth. It was... It’s one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen.”

Your heart had started to race, leaping into your throat and wanting to take the reins of your tongue, wanting to ask for something you didn’t know the extent of just yet. You bit your tongue and nodded. “So there have been some, after. Blessings we don’t see.”

“There were a few. But overall, those mothers were few and far between. The last few scores of sacrifices dropped in my living room hadn’t even had sex, or pleasure. I couldn’t make that choice for them.”

It astounded you, to hear a god acknowledge the severe power imbalance in these relationships. While part of it still slightly reeked of dubious ethics, you supposed this was a ‘greater good’ type of deal. And if the changes that affected the mothers only happened in the boundaries of the Pocket, all that was done to them would have been undone when he’d sent them back up to the surface, like Meija wanted.

It also saddened you, to hear his willful acceptance of his eternal solitude. You wanted nothing more than to go to him, but the hard wood table between you two reminded you of your goal.

“Why not tell the Temple, then? To find willing earth-mothers, instead of clueless Sacrifices?”

He gave a laugh, and turned to the stove to plate up your breakfast. “Bureaucracy seems to have more power than I do, these days. From what I understand, as things were turning to a more conservative approach in the Temple, they took their power through control of information and knowledge, not through knowledge-seeking itself. That kind of cloak-and-dagger manipulation is difficult to undo, in such a powerful institution. It would take... a lot more than I am capable of, to change them.”

You saw the fire in his eyes, the distaste at the injustice on the surface. Boba was a person who craved the opportunity to repair things, you reminded yourself, and for his hands to be tied so must have been a long-simmering point of frustration. You changed the subject, after giving a hum of agreement.

“So the typical mother, not that I’m trying to generalize any of them,” you added quickly, “Would come down here, get the schpiel, have a child with you, and then take the out instead of spending eternity with you?”

“Pregnancy isn’t exactly comfortable, princess,” he said, rolling his eyes and handing you a plate of eggs and toast. You saved the toast for later, knowing it would have had at least some latent orgasmic nonsense in it. “They considered it a duty, a lot of the times. I feel—” He cut himself off abruptly, a stony expression crossing his brow.

“What is it?” you asked gently, reaching out to take his hand. “You can tell me.”

“I feel indebted to each and every one of them. They walk through the spirit dimension with no regrets because—” his voice cracked then, and your heart felt the same way. “The only time I know I was ever happy was when I was crafting the world with another.”

Your heart fell, and you stood, abandoning your breakfast to come closer to him. “Boba...” you said, but you were unsure of what you could possibly say to begin to comfort him in his immense grief. Instead, you did the one thing you knew you could: you were there for him. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, and pulled him close. He felt stiff for a moment, before realizing you were embracing him, holding him because you wanted to. His arms came up to wrap around you, and you found yourself pulled into his lap with a little squeal. His tentacles kept you supported, but you didn’t let go once.

“Do you have any other questions?” he asked after a while, his voice sounding a little ragged.

“No, not right now,” you said, a quick and merciful lie. “Why don’t you ask me some questions instead, while we eat?” you suggested, kissing his cheek and forehead, anywhere you could until he smiled.

“Thank you,” he whispered against your skin before you stood. You knew it meant more than he could say, so you said nothing. “You mentioned you were at the Temple since you were a girl? Do you remember it?”

“I was orphaned. I don’t remember too many things about my parents, only that they seemed to frown over a great many things. They certainly raised a stoic little six-year-old by the time they died.” He didn’t try to placate you with soft condolences. Death was part of life, he would know.

“You couldn’t have always been so by-the-book. You must have rebelled against the priestesses at some point.” He smiled and took a bite of breakfast.

You narrowed your eyes. “For a while, I was,” you admitted, drinking your tea sassily. “But that changed when I made Magna.” They start ranking the classes in the tenth year, and you’d been Magna (or briefly, Summa) for most of the decade after. “My counselors were so upset with me, I could never choose a focus.”

“That just means you’re a jack of all trades.”

“Oh, I mastered quite a few. I took to the physical sciences rather well, but I was pulled by social sciences, by arts, a fair few times. The issue with the class structure at the Temple, of the great very many issues at the Temple, was that you needed to stick with a focus for good in order to be taught it. I kept jumping around, but I made up for my gaps in knowledge in the library.”

“Art?” Boba asked, and you grinned. Of course he would have caught that bit.

“I love consuming art. I never make it myself. I’m a bit like the sarlacc in that way, always eating.”

“She’d be very pleased to hear your comparison, little cat,” he grinned.

You spoke back and forth for a while longer. You realized you were having so much fun because you were learning new things, even though you were just making conversation.

“I can fix the instruments, but I don’t know how to play them.”

“If you find some cotton, I’m sure we can teach ourselves how.”

It was like any other conversation with a new friend you’d ever had, though neither of you had met a single person that was like the other.

“Do you make art of your own?”

“I can sketch, and I can restore most damage I come across when need be. I haven’t really felt the need to paint my own canvas. I’m more interested in what others make.”

“Did you feel that way with Earth One?”

“Absolutely not.”

Boba had a quick wit, and the sharpest humor you’d ever encountered. For someone who hadn’t done much but float through the halls of the Pocket and sleep for the last thousand years, you were pleasantly surprised with how quickly he took to banter with you.

“What did you do with the mothers before Meija?”

“The world was younger, then. I could trust them to keep things secret, and I checked up on them whenever I had the energy.”

“They’re lucky. There are far too many absent fathers in the world, it would be a shame if the father of the world were one as well.”

“Sure I’m not a shame anyway?” he asked, clearly joking, but you could see the thread of fear, of uncertainty, of insecurity, behind his eyes.

“I’ve never been more sure of that.”

Time, it seemed did funny things while in the Pocket. You were certain that while there was some sort of stasis to the whole place, there was enough evidence to convince you that time did, in fact, pass down here. The plants in the orchard grew. The days cycled on the usual night-and-day you were always used to. The stars moved in the observatory, and the phases of the moons changed.

And you were going to have your period.

Your breasts ached when you woke one morning, too heavy by far, and sensitive even against the soft linen of your shift. You just wanted to roll back into bed and go back to sleep, morose already. Though, the familiar symptoms preceding your cycle made you sit upright in bed once more.

Oh fuck.

You counted back the days, remembering that your last period had ended just before the Rites. Twenty-five days.

“Oh fuck,” you said out loud.

When your feet carried you, half-dressed, into the kitchen for breakfast, it took Boba a moment to catch your attention. You were staring back out at the orchard, where the strawberries had started flowering in one quadrant. “What?” you asked, still far-away.

He tilted his head at you curiously. You’d always been sharp-minded, attentive around him, except when he’d had one of his cocks inside of you, of course.

Okay, where did that come from.

Boba’s eyebrows shot up, and an amused smile fell over his lips. “You’re fertile.”

Your face heated instantly. “Don’t-don’t say it like that!” You exclaimed. “How the hell do you know!?”

“I know.” His tone held mystery and no small amount of smugness, for which you were not amused. “I can conjure something for you if you want to take care of it, or...”

The memory of your conversation a few days prior sat in the room, unspoken but—okay, it was spoken fairly quickly.

“Could always get you pregnant.”

“I could always have a baby.”

You’d spoken at the same time as him, and you both tried to hide the surprised smile. Boba took the pan off the stove and came to sit with you. This was a sitting conversation.

“So you want to?” he asked, keeping his tone neutral, his emotions out of it. You remembered the pain in his voice from before, though. The only time I know I was ever happy was when I was crafting the world with another.

“I’ve got a few questions—”

“The whole process takes about a month, on average. The cycle between moons, I think. It was easier to tell when there were actual moons to count by. Sometimes we could tell what she was going to have. The symptoms line up a little bit but for the most part it’s a guessing game until the child is out, and if you’re having a mountain, it’s not like you’ll actually need to accompany a—”

“Boba.”

“—whole mountain range inside you, though the mountain-mothers did step with a heavier tread some days, and—”

“Boba.”

“I can get you any food for any craving, the fauna-mothers gave me a run for my money some days, though—”

“Boba?”

“Typically flora grow taller and like spending more time, even camping, in the orchard, and—”

“Boba Fett, hear me speak!”

He shut up, a little astounded.

“I do have questions, of which I know you will answer very well. But we have plenty of time to talk about that after you knock me up. Otherwise we’ll be here until my next cycle starts.”

His lips formed a little ‘o’ when he realized you were right, and your logic sound.

“No one’s died from having your child, so I’m. Can we try? Right now?”

His head bobbed up and down, and he didn’t let the table in his way stop him from climbing over to pull your face to his in a kiss.

His mouth plundered like the warlords in his history books. His tongue seared poetry into your mouth like a sculptor’s chisel, and you felt like nothing you’d ever felt before. A wanton moan left your lips at the ferocity in his passion, followed by a yelp as he pushed you out of your seat and onto the floor. The pain of the tiles beneath didn’t come; you were surrounded by his tentacles as if you’d simply leaned back into them. Boba didn’t once stop kissing you as he lowered you to the floor, pushed your skirts up over your hips to leave you exposed. Even in the warm air of the kitchen, the burning oven just a few meters away, you shivered in anticipation for what was coming next.

You hoped it was you.

His hands pushed your legs apart, but his tentacles kept them open, securely tying your body open for him. The easy show of his strength, the grace he controlled his movements with, made your breath catch in your throat, and your heart pound. Lightheaded, you could only make a confused noise when he pulled back from you, kissing down your body. It was then that you realized some of the other, defter tentacles had unlaced your bodice and skirt, tossing them away from your body with more ease than it took to pull them on. When your naked body was bare before him, he loomed above you, haloed by the low lanternlight above you.

The ceilings in the Pocket were difficult to look at. When Boba had created the Pocket, there weren’t yet places with roofs or ceilings yet made by man. As Boba didn’t spend too much time on the surface in the creations of man, his subconscious was left to fill in the blanks all around his inter-dimensional domain. As such, the ceilings were more theoretical than anything, the way looking directly at the smallest light in the darkness would make it disappear.

But looking up at him like this, you could tell that his subconscious was having a difficult time maintaining all the constructs of the Pocket around you. The ceiling fell apart into a pure black void, dotted with stars in the form of the kitchen lanterns. Their light, portals all, flickered and twinkled in the same way as his celestial children. As the light left the top of the room, it seemed to collect around his head in a perfect circle, rays of light spreading like outstretched arms where his scars marred the shape of hi head.

He was glorious, resplendent, and looked like more of a god than you’d ever seen him before. It left you breathless and in awe, like you could never look away and remain happy the rest of your life. It made your heart surge, and with a great feat of strength, you sat up to touch him, to kiss him, to show him the ferocity of your passion and love. It pulled a moan from Boba, and you were instantly drunk on the power that gave you; Boba may have made the world and all its wonders, but you could make him moan with just a kiss.

Had he knees, you would have brought him to them.

Your kisses lessened in their frenetic pace, slowing to a rhythmic sort of passion, the rhythm of a fire. You undressed him by hand, fumbling in places, but you refused to ask for his help, to whine for his form. He’d undressed, undone you. You wanted to do the same to him. Trappings fallen to the floor, you witnessed him up close.

In the bath several weeks ago, you’d only caught a glimpse of his naked form when he’d slipped in beside you. Now, neither of you had nowhere to hide, nothing to hide. His scars ran deep, in thick, raised gouges like the raised points of a globe of the world, denoting mountains the way his body denoted pain and past. There was no consistency to the shape. They could have been burns, could have been cuts or slashes, could have been pieces ripped from him, but you couldn’t tell. You supposed, fingers brushing over a puckered pink line over his heart, that celestial wounds took longer to heal, and bore no semblance to the kind you found on the surface.

He watched you observe him, inspect him, explore him. He guarded his expression well, but you knew him enough by now that he was most likely simmering with anxiety. You leaned in, locking eyes with him for just a moment, before laying a kiss over that scar on his heart. You prayed a little, for his healing, and for his comfort.

Boba whined, and you remembered that he could hear your prayers plain as day. His hands shook and his whole body seemed to tense, then melt at the soft wish you’d made. “Princess,” he breathed. “You know I can’t fulfill that prayer.” He sounded so resigned, but with a tinge of genuine frustration, that he couldn’t make your wishes come true, not even for his own betterment.

“Prayers aren’t always for getting the things you want,” you whispered back, holding his face in your hands. “They’re for reminding us of our heart’s direction.”

Something soft and unreadable filled Boba’s eyes, something shimmering gold in the dark brown depths of them. Like stars, you thought for a single moment before he kissed you again.

And like the first, like the second, the third was different from all the others. With how precisely he moved, it was like he was speaking spells against your lips, declarations and confessions only understandable in this language, the one that needs four lips to speak.

“You want me to get you pregnant?” he murmured at long last, breaking the hazy silence. You blinked, righting yourself again, before nodding.

“I want to bear your child, Boba,” you whispered. “Please.”

He cupped the back of your neck in his huge hands and kissed you again, before nodding and laying you down again, on the soft bed of his tentacles. He kissed down your body, starting from your shoulders, to your naked breasts, to your tummy, over which he placed a few longer kisses, near-silent whispers, to your womb. Your face flushed hard in embarrassment for how wet the gesture made you, arousal slicking your thighs and the tentacles supporting your lower half.

Boba didn’t miss a thing; he kept your legs held wide, every part of him wrapping around every part of you, but he didn’t press in with one of the red tendrils as you’d expected. No, instead he pressed his mouth to you, a hot tongue scrambling your every thought in a hurricane of feeling. Your astonished shout didn’t alarm him whatsoever. Boba knew pleasure, he knew his way around a dripping cunt better than probably anybody else in history. While that should have worried you, should have made you doubt your own ability to please him, his satisfied groan at the taste of you dashed those thoughts as well.

He ate you like it was you who was getting him drunk, the tables flipped from the first time he’d fed you. His eyes were closed - no, hooded, like he was drowsy or enchanted by your pussy alone. You gave him another deep moan, legs shaking as he did something with his tongue that made your blood sing. It was like every heartbeat of yours pushed you a mile closer to the edge. By simply breathing, you would come harder than you ever thought possible. Boba’s hands, his tentacles, they were all experts at your body from the word go, but his tongue seemed to convey that sense of neediness, of mutual pleasure, that sent you over the edge that much faster.

When he felt your walls flutter and clamp down on him, he withdrew his tongue from you, fucking you with his slick fingers, with another tentacle which had come to play. You gushed around them, mindlessly babbling and near tears with pleasure. “That’s it,” he murmured, his voice wrecked and low. “That’s it, good girl, c’mon princess, let go for me.”

When his touch became just a bit much, just on the wrong side of overstimulating, you didn’t even need to tell him to convey it. He pulled his hand and mouth back, leaving just the tentacle inside you, pulsing and long. It wasn’t as thick as the others he had used on you before, but you suspected he was working you up to something bigger than you’d ever taken. His tentacles moved your hair out of your face, sweat-drenched and messy from your thrashing. You croaked out his name - you must have been screaming his name. He chuckled, voice still dangerously sexy.

“Alright there, little cat? You’ve gone quiet again.”

You wanted to bite back at his little barb, but you were so well-fucked you couldn’t summon the effort. You simply melted against him, and suddenly you were moving.

He left your clothes in the kitchen, strewn about as if you’d simply disappeared from them between one second and the next. The ceiling put itself back into place, and you smiled as he carried you across the courtyard to the bedroom. He wisely avoided the winter quarter of the orchard, keeping you warm and comfortable so you could ease into what he had planned next.

When he set you on the bed, he laid next to you, like two lovers would. It seemed so... normal, amidst all the fathoms of the unnatural here in the Pocket. You smiled at him, easy and bright as you never had quite gotten the hang of on the surface. Boba seemed to almost glow with happiness, kissing you slowly again and wrapping his body around you once more. “Are you sure about this?” he asked again, and you gave a dazed nod, realizing his mouth still shone with your slick, with your cum.

“Want it. Want you.” Your heart took the reins of your mouth, and you shivered at the truth of the words. He was so close you could hear his breath catch. You were more than eager to hear that noise again, so you continued. “Want you to fuck me full, breed me.”

His answering moan confirmed your suspicions, that he was just as eager for this as you thought, not only for the happiness he spoke of, but for the thrill of this incredible moment of creation, of life once more. He pressed his face into your neck and nodded, acknowledging your wants, your pleas. “I’ll do that, princess, just for you.”

Those three words, just for you, made your heart sour with meaning, and you didn’t mind a bit that they weren’t another three promised by all the poets. You knew they came in many forms, and from a god, in extremely mysterious ways than any soul on the surface could.

You gasped when he held you open for him again, and you didn’t need to look down, didn’t need to look anywhere but him, as he filled you up, the slow, never-ending press of one of those thick tendrils inside of you making you shudder, but you still did not look away. He watched you with the same intensity, like he was waiting for you to rescind your consent at any moment. You wanted to scrub away that fear from him, wanted him to know that you were his as much as... as...

As much as he’d let you be. That was a safer fact to rest upon.

When he split you apart this time, it was with several of those red tendrils at once, stretching you wide and fucking you deep. Like before, he didn’t so much as rail into you as he did pulse, writhe within you. It seemed like it went against your baser nature, your thoughts on procreation more associated with feral rutting against one another. But this was nowhere near natural, you reminded yourself. This was how the god of all life and creation on your planet fucked.

He did not leave you wanting, for a single moment. He kept you full, as promised, and that second promise on the heels of the first made you feel like he’d already bred you. When some beautiful ridge of him rubbed against the front of your walls, on a spongier spot he’d worked with his tongue and fingers before, you squealed, legs going rigid at the sudden feeling. He gave a deep laugh at your reaction, and your wide eyes met his again. In the cool purple light of the bedroom, those brown eyes looked black with lust and desire, deep and dark enough to fall into.

You pulled him down for another kiss, whining your pleasure into his mouth as the three tentacles inside you worked in unison. One kept scraping deliciously against that world-shattering spot inside you, another pressed as deep as it could, and another moved in the facsimile of a cock, most likely for your own pleasure. If you’d been able to speak, you would have told him off for not fucking you how he wanted, but as it was, you could only gape at him like a fish out of water.

“That’s right,” he purred again, breath hot against your lips. “You take it. You take all of me, like a good girl, and I’ll give you what you want. You wanna carry something of me inside you so badly, don’t you. You want it so bad you’re nearly crying for it.” To prove his point, he leaned down and kissed away the tears sliding down the side of your face, not from pain or sadness, but overwhelming pleasure. When he kissed you again, you could taste the salt of them, and the tangier taste of your own cunt. You supposed fair was fair, you’d gotten just as drunk off of him as he was on you. It made your pride surge, in some part of your mind that could still process all of this.

“I’ll know when it takes, princess. And I’ve got enough in me to make sure you don’t leave this bed until it does.” His voice had dropped to a near growl, like stones passing over one another just before a rockfall. You keened, arching up into him and off the bed, and Boba dropped his forehead to you. “You ready?” he asked, and behind the passion and fire in his eyes, you could see the genuine question, the warning: last chance.

“Please,” you sobbed, the first word you’d said since asking him to breed you. He nodded, a subtle movement against you as he tore your synapses apart with pleasure. The graceful motion of his tentacles inside of you twitched once, twice, and then shivered all over, all at once, as they jockeyed for position against the tight muscle of your cervix. He shouted in pleasure as he came, and you could only look down at yourself, watching your body inflate with his seed. You nearly saw spots dance in your eyes, inverted stars, as he finished, leaving your belly slightly distended. If you weren’t bred from that, you weren’t sure how much else would fit in you.

He stayed inside of you, bearing down onto his forearms to cage you in, as if you’d ever leave. He kissed your lips lazily, the heft of him pressing against your body and making you moan, more thick gushes of his cum flooding your body. “Perfect,” he whispered. “You’re perfect.”

When your heart slowed, he still hadn’t pulled out of you, keeping his seed plugged up. “Boba,” you whispered, part of your voice returning to you. He looked up, cheeks still flushed and expression still open and sated.

“Yes?” he asked, just as quiet.

“Thank you,” you said, and for what exactly, you weren’t quite sure, but you knew that this feeling of safety, this pleasure and affection you received, made you feel better than you ever had in your life. You felt... well it was silly, but you felt closer to your god here and now than you ever did at the Temple, and you were pretty sure none of the priestesses in black ever felt this close, not ever. He rested his head against you, like you were something more than just a human to him, like you were more than a means for more children, and you realized he’d never made you feel that way, even at his angriest.

“Stole the words from my mouth,” he said, chuckling. His eyes were closed, and you felt... radiant. It was a feeling you’d get used to.

When he finally pulled out, a thick, hot gush of his cum left with him, and you canted your hips up in a vain effort to try and keep it all in. He didn’t laugh at you, he just helped your hips with a pillow tugged from the side. He didn’t seem to mind the mess, so you didn’t either. Things were silent again between you, both of you looking down at your slick, swollen lips. “What now?” you asked, a little apprehensive about the next steps.

“We wait a little, and see if it took.”

You frowned. Even up on the surface, it took months before a pregnancy would show, and at least several weeks before any of the tests would indicate pregnancy or not. “How long does that take?”

“I’ll be able to tell in an hour or so, so get comfortable.”

“An hour?” you asked incredulously. He nodded, shifting about to at least tidy up the sheets and pillows knocked around in your lovemaking.

“Typically,” he shrugged, back to his usual flippant self. He seemed to get a kick out of frustrating you, which you knew. “Would you like me to read to you?”

The question took you off guard. “What?”

It was his turn to look flustered, now. “When... when others would stick around and try with me, they tended to get antsy just waiting. I believe the anxiety would make it difficult for them to conceive with me, and later carry the child. I try to keep the mothers as relaxed as I can, and... many of them liked my voice.” He seemed almost embarrassed to admit it, self-consciousness shriveling inside like a wilted flower. You touched his hand.

“Do you have any poetry?”

Boba read poetry in a very different way than you were used to. He had opinions about the verses, and would almost have conversations with the poets as he went. You suspected he read out loud to himself when he was alone, but hadn’t had the confidence to do so when you were in the Pocket. You didn’t mind, hearing his ramblings. It wasn’t often that he had none of the answers, and it was amusing to see a god ask why of man, instead of the other way around.

“She flirted with life / and life flirted right back with her, / as if all the universe / came more alive / just for her / and everything felt her glow. / It was / in the dew / in the stars / and the colors of the sky— / they all shone / as bright as they could / in the hopes / to catch her eye. Now this author, he doesn’t like to rhyme, he takes a freeform, fenceless approach to poetry that I haven’t quite decided if I like or not, and I’ve read all of his books about a hundred times—”

You only smiled at his ramblings, nodding when he looked over to you for your opinion, and he would turn back to the words on the page, pointing out similarities and inconsistencies among the verses.

“He talks about love like it will drown him, like it has hurt him and his lovers, he talks about life as if it—here. Down in the cellar were / A hundred dusty bottles / from a hundred different years - sounds like my kind of friend - We’d open barrels to spill / just enough for a glass - wasteful. Parties and friends aren’t places for moderation. The red would drip down the oak / and with our fingers we’d feel the wood / and the wetness of the wine / and for a moment the world would warm / and we’d know somewhere in that feeling / was life as it was intended. I think that’s making something out of nothing, because humans invented wine, not me. And when I was creating life, it was more just a reflex, the first time...”

He spoke so nonchalantly about his creations, about the people in his world, like they were neighbors, instead of thousands of generations past when he’d first gone to sleep. You wondered to yourself if you had ever been a poet, if your words would end up here, if he’d talk to you about the finer points of your experiences, your loves and losses.

You sat up, a little, to snatch the book from his hands. He still stumbled over five or six words by the time his mind caught up. You bit down on your smirk and landed on a longer poem. Most of this author’s works were closer to parables, words of wisdom and quick observations about the nature of the world, but you liked the way this one started, with two simple words.

“Love is / throwing yourself into a stormy sea / hoping there are arms to catch you / knowing that without the leap / there is only the safe / and lonely shore. Considering the famous poet who drowned herself by tossing herself into the sea at losing her love, there’s also the likely possibility of the safe and lonely shore being the stormy sea of a life without love. And the salvation is in the undoing.” You were talking out your ass, of course, but the way Boba’s eyes sparkled with attention made your tongue nearly tie itself in knots. You had to look away, to the harmony of ink and paper again.

“What else?” he said, almost making you lose your place, physically and metaphorically.

“I want to know every part of you, / every—” You stopped for a moment, eyes tracing the rounded shape of such a sharp word. “Every scar, / every bruise, / I want to trace the map of you, / my fingers a compass, / your freckles the constellations—” Your lips stumbled a little, but he didn’t dissuade you from continuing. This poem was a nightmare for your nerve. “Constellations / which in my heart I will chart / so when I close my eyes...” You looked up at him for the last line. “I’ll have you in my stars forever.”

It was like the string keeping you apart snapped, then. He surged forward, knocking the book out of your hands as he kissed you so thoroughly your head spun. You were trembling, or maybe he was, maybe you both were - you couldn’t tell up from down by the flips your heart and mind were doing, as one and out of sync all at once. “You are...” his voice shook while he spoke, emotion clawing up like blood from a wound, as though his mouth could speak what his heart wanted to say.

Then, his eyes took on a sharper quality, none of the glassy, misty look he had just before. They broke away from you, and he turned to look down between your legs. He moved in a smooth slide down to where he’d been inside you just before, and to your astonishment, pressed his face between your legs. You would have called out his thorough distraction had he not pressed a hot lick between your lips, over your entrance, and moaned, closing his eyes and resting his head against your thigh.

“What is it?” you whispered. His lips curled into a wide, dopey smile, one you couldn’t help but mirror back at him. You held your breath— 

“You’re pregnant.”

Poetry/references used:

- It is both Named and Nameless... (Tao Te Ching, Lao Tzu, Trans. by Jonathan Star) - She flirted with life... (Love Her Wild, Atticus, p94) - Love is... (Love Her Wild, Atticus, p20) - Down in the cellar... (The Dark Between Stars, Atticus, p 170) - I want to know every part of you... (The Dark Between Stars, Atticus, p87)