#nearest co-working space

[lvl1l1]

LaDS men when you get flowers from someone else

pairings: Sylus, Rafayel, Xavier, Caleb, Zayne x F!Reader(separate)

content: jealousy, fluff, caleb and xavier are a teensy bit insane, charlie taking another L

Sylus

You two decided to spend the weekend at your apartment, he obviously wouldn’t be caught dead showing up empty handed.

As you open the door, the first thing you see is a beautifully arranged bouquet of camellias and carnations. The second is the smug grin on your boyfriend’s face, which is wiped right off as soon as he steps into your living room and notices the pathetically small bouquet you had already hosted in a vase.

“Kitten, was your budget for those flowers chump change and a dream? You should’ve known, I’d bring you a little something.”

Once you tell him, that those were a gift from a co-worker for helping him out, his demeanour shifts slightly, unnoticeable to the untrained eye. Luckily, you were the one person who could see right through him.

Not like that mattered, when he went to grab his phone before you could even say anything. You see him tap around a little before raising it to his ear, speaking into the device.

“Yeah, I want them all delivered.”

You look at him with furrowed brows and he finally went back to paying attention to you. A sharp smile makes its way to his face.

“I don’t mind you leaving these, to put it bluntly, sad flowers here. They’ll make all the bouquets i’m getting you stand out even more.”

The unimpressed stare you give him, clearly doesn’t phase him, as he just walks into your bedroom, pulling you along.

“You deserve only the best, the biggest and the grandest. For everything.”

“You’re almost winning me over, Sy. But shouldn’t we wait until those poor florists actually deliver whatever ridiculous amount of flowers you ordered?”

At that, Sylus pulled you closer, nuzzling his face into your hair,

“The flowers will be fine waiting outside of your door. It’ll also be a nice way to send a message to everyone living in this apartment complex. Now, how about a lesson in why you shouldn’t accept flowers from other men?”

You sigh first, suddenly going rigid as a realisation hits you,

“I don’t have enough vases. Or even space for more flowers!”

Being the last thing you mumbled before your bedroom door closed with a ‘click’.

Rafayel

You two were out running some errands together, grabbing art supplies for him, groceries and what-not.

Linkon City was as lively as ever, a melting pot for diverse people. You and Rafayel held hands, pushing through the crowd.

Rafayel was about to pull you into another store, when you’re stopped by a man.

He’s holding a small bouquet of red roses and smiles at you, not looking at Rafayel,

“Hi, miss. We’re giving out free flowers today, these are for you.”

You feel Rafayel squeeze your hand and you know he’s glaring without even looking at him,

“Oh, thank you but I don’t-“

The man practically shoves the flowers into your free hand,

“I insist. Have a good day!”

And with that, he turns and leaves you standing there holding the small bouquet.

A hum leaves your throat, shrugging and leaning in to smell the flowers, before you’re stopped by your boyfriend.

“Why would you accept these ugly flowers? There’s no artistic flair, just basic roses and their stems aren’t even cut evenly! Honestly, It’s like he’s trying to harass my girlfriend by making her look at something so hideous. Besides, you have a rich boyfriend capable of making you a wayyy better bouquet standing right here.”

You narrow your eyes at him, lips curling upwards, leaning closer to him,

“Don’t tell me you’re jealous.”

Rafayel’s eyes widened at that, mouth falling open slightly,

“These are clearly just for a campaign, he’s just working. I wouldn’t have accepted them otherwise, don’t worry.”

Your boyfriend jutted out his lower lip, taking the bouquet out of your hand. He made the flowers go up in flames and before you could react he pulled you towards the nearest flower shop.

“Doesn’t matter. My girlfriend deserves flowers as pretty as her. I’m arranging this bouquet myself and it’ll be the prettiest you’ve ever seen!”

You playfully roll your eyes at his antics but you couldn’t help but appreciate his effort. So, you let him pull you along.

Xavier

It was date night and you and Xavier decided to go to your usual hotpot place. You were waiting outside of your apartment building for him, as he went to grab his wallet that he had forgotten at his place.

You were leaning against the gate, when a familiar voice suddenly called out to you,

“Oh, hey! I haven’t seen you in a while.”

Charlie walked up to you, you flashed him a little smile as you noticed the flowers he was holding.

“Someone brought me these at the bakery today! They look nice, don’t you think?”

You nodded curtly, not wanting to talk to him for too long, knowing Xavier might see.

Not taking the hint, Charlie’s face lit up, an idea flashing through his mind, not having learned anything from your last interaction.

“Hey, why don’t you take them? I don’t really have a place for them anyway.”

Not waiting for your reply, he pushed the bouquet towards you. Hesitantly, you take them,

“I don’t think this is a good idea-“

He waved you off and went to walk inside.

You stared at the flowers, biting your lips, thinking of what to do before Xavier returned.

You knew it was too late once you noticed the streetlights flickering and an ominous presence manifesting behind you.

“Throw them away.”

You quickly straightened your posture, turning around with a teasing smile,

“Hey there, Xav.”

“Throw them away.”

He repeated in a serious tone.

A sigh left you,

“I was planning on doing that anyway. Don’t you think it’d be a waste though?”

Xavier shook his head, a stern expression on his usually neutral face.

“Doesn’t matter, they’re ugly anyway. Besides, who gives away a gift they received? He’s got no shame.”

You raised an eyebrow at him,

“Why didn’t you come out earlier, if you were here already?”

He came closer, taking the flowers out of your grasp, not answering. He teleported over to the dumpsters, throwing the flowers in.

“I’ll get you prettier ones. Ones that actually mean something.”

You met him halfway and grabbed his hand,

“Alright. But let’s get going, before we miss our reservation.”

Xavier’s expression finally softened, a small smile making its way to his face as he looked at you.

You two started walking, you started talking to him about your day and he listened, nodding along.

Luckily, you didn’t notice how the entire buildings lights suddenly went out. He was gonna deal with that evil baker later.

Caleb

Caleb just got done cooking, when he finally heard a knock on his door.

You had finally gotten some days off after a gruelling week filled with missions back to back and you were staying with him in Skyhaven.

He was planning on helping you relax the entire time you were going to be with him. He would cook for you, take you wherever you wanted to go and monopolise your attention.

The brunet happily opened the door, immediately greeting you with a hug,

“Pipsqueak, I gave you the key to my place for a reason. You don’t have to knock.”

You giggled at him, walking inside and taking your shoes off with one hand.

That’s when he noticed the flowers you were holding, he cocked his head, not saying anything.

“Oh, a friend of mine gave these to me right before I left! Do you have a vase we could put them in?”

Caleb’s brows furrowed, his eyes darkening slightly.

“What was the occasion? These aren’t even your favourite flowers. Would expect them to be thoughtful, when pulling off a gesture like this.”

You looked at him, amused.

“Caleb, they’re just flowers. From someone who’s just a friend.”

He walked into the living room with you, looking at the bouquet like it personally offended him.

“Well, seems like we’ll have to take the bouquet apart, pipsqueak. Your friend put iris and chrysanthemums together. Vastly different vase life, would be bad if we put them together. Might as well throw them out, honestly. I’ll get you flowers that actually survive together.”

He didn’t miss the scepticism on your face as you put the bouquet on the coffee table. You walked over to him, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“Caleb, honey, you don’t need to let it out on the flowers, they’re innocent. My friend was just trying to be nice but if they bother you, we can throw them away.”

His hands found your waist, as he looked at you with those eyes, resembling a kicked puppy.

“But if you like them…”

You shook your head,

“They’re just flowers. You can just get me some. Or even better, I’ll bring you some next time!”

His face lit up again, pressing your foreheads together,

“You don’t need to bring me flowers, pips. That’s my job! Besides, I actually know which flowers you like, I’d never just carelessly put a bouquet together.”

You looked up at him through your lashes, realising what he was pulling,

“Caleb, you-“

He picked you up and brought you over to the kitchen, putting you down on the counter.

“Too late, you already agreed.”

He winked at you, and you noticed something fly out the window through your peripheral vision.

“Now, let’s eat and after that I’ll take you out shopping. We’ll pick up some flowers on the way.”

Zayne

Zayne was just finishing up the last of his work at the hospital, when he received a text from you,

“ahhh i just saw them, love the flowers zaynie! thank you so much”

He stared at his phone in confusion, trying to think of a response,

“What are you talking about, love?”

You sent him a picture of a bouquet of amaryllis, followed up by a text,

“they’re so pretty! they were just delivered, thank u<3”

His fingers twitched, as he left his office, making his way to his car.

“Leave them on the table. I’ll be home soon.”

With that, he put his phone away and got in his car.

-

You were slightly confused at Zayne’s last text but did as he said.

Once you heard keys turn in the lock, you quickly walked over to the door to welcome your boyfriend.

The door pushed open and your boyfriend walked inside, you noticed his bag wasn’t the only thing he was holding.

He presented you with a bouquet of your favourite flowers, before he even took off his coat.

“…welcome back, dear.”

The confusion in your voice evident, still accepting the flowers gratefully.

Zayne quietly took off his shoes and hung up his coat, pressing a kiss to your temple before walking into the kitchen.

“These flowers…”

He picked them off the table and glanced at them.

“They were delivered, yes? Did a note come with them?”

You went to stand next to him, holding the bouquet he just brought you,

“Nope. I’ll take it, those aren’t from you?”

He let out an affirmative hum,

“What do you say, we gift these to the elderly lady next door? And you find a vase for the ones I got you.”

“Sounds good! Just… who do you think sent these?”

His gaze met yours and his eyes lit up with affection for you.

“I’m not sure but I intent to find out. I can’t just stand by and watch as someone tries to make the woman I love swoon.”

You chuckled at that, switching to holding the bouquet he got you with one hand, caressing his face with your other,

“No one besides you could ever make me swoon, Zayne.”

He leaned into your touch, closing his eyes,

“I know. Still, I won’t let this slide. I want you to be happy over things that are actually from me.”

At that, you press a sweet kiss to his lips. He was just so lovely.

[whateverjynx]

Co-Parenting

Your new boyfriend and baby daddy, Eren, have never gotten along, so it only made sense that when it came to your daughter’s birthday, your boyfriend would sit this one out—not knowing that this would turn out to be the biggest mistake of his life.

1:00 PM

It was a hot day in June, so it was only reasonable to throw your six-year-old a pool party at the community pool of your apartment complex. A table was set up with blues and purples, her favorite colors, along with an assortment of food and drinks for the kids and parents who would be coming. You wore a beautiful blue two-piece that matched your daughter's one-piece, with your Brazilian wavy bundles styled into a messy bun, gold hoops, and dangles to match.

“Where’s Daddy?” your daughter asked after just coming out of the water leaving her friends. The party had started an hour ago! But it was typical for Eren to show up late.

“He should be here soon, baby, I promise,” you assured her with a smile as you watched her accept your answer before turning and running back to her friends.

Just as you were about to pull out your phone to start blowing him up, you saw that same emerald green Trackhawk that had brought you here in the first place pull into the nearest parking space. Out stepped Eren, wearing white swim trunks that showcased his chiseled abs, holding a large purple gift box and two bags. You rolled your eyes at the sight, trying your hardest not to smile—even just a little bit—at his entrance. You could hear your daughter scream, “DADDY!” as she dashed past you.

You watched as he dropped the box and bags, picked her up, and twirled her around, water dripping from her soaked swimsuit onto him. They chatted for a few seconds before walking to you in the swimming area.

“You’re late,” you said, rolling your eyes and trying not to look at his beautifully sculpted body.

“Hey to you, mamas,” he said with a slight chuckle.

“What did you get me?” your daughter asked eagerly, having overheard the small talk beforehand.

“You’ll see when we open all your presents. Now go play so I can talk to your father.”

She did as told, leaving the two of you. It was silent as you both began to study one another's attire for just a few seconds, like a race against time.

“Are you going to tell me why you’re late?” you asked, turning around so he couldn’t see you begin to fluster.

“You try wrapping a dirt bike; that shit is harder than a motherf—”

“You bought her a dirt bike?” you asked, irritated.

“That’s what she texted she wanted.”

“Yeah, she also said she wanted the Willy Wonka Chocolate Factory. You don’t see me buying that.”

“Girl, calm down. She’s good; she’s eight now.”

You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose as you began to mentally figure out where you were going to put it in your apartment.

Still turned around, you could feel him step closer, just a step away before your butt would touch his shorts. “Where’s that man at?” he asked in a low tone.

“At work,” you said smugly, cocking your head to the side while turning around in the small space you had, trying not to bump into him, getting a good look at just how close he was.

“And where’s that bitch at?” you asked just as cockily.

“Damn, why she gotta be a bitch for?” he said with a low chuckle, using his fingers as a comb to fix his hair.

“Oh, you must have Alzheimer’s or something,” you said, folding your arms.

“I mean, shid, you right, you right. But nah, we, um, broke up.”

“Hmm, I wonder why.”

“Chill, nothing like that, I swear. We just weren’t a good match, you know?”

You raised an eyebrow before rolling your eyes, a smile creeping onto your face as the words left his mouth. Why were you slightly happy about that?! You’re in a relationship—REMEMBER!

You could see a smile beginning to form on his lips as you could feel where his mind was going.

“Anyways, I’m going to go set up the birthday cake—tired of looking at you,” you said in a serious yet playful tone.

“Yeah, right.”

This was normal for you and Eren, although unhealthy. You’d find yourself in a relationship, then he would be too, but once you broke up, he would also. But not this time! Or so you thought...

Nighttime came, and by now everyone had left. Your baby had enjoyed herself, and that was all that mattered. You were feeling like an accomplished parent, and everything had gone to plan—except that Eren was still here...

“She’s asleep, you know,” you said cockily as he began to open your balcony door.

“Yeah, I know,” he said, pulling his shorts up while walking around like he owned the place and not even bothering to put on some real clothes. You followed him onto the balcony in only a nightgown, your daughter fast asleep from the day’s activities.

“So, what are you still doing here?” you asked.

He chuckled in response, pulling out a cigarette from the pack already on the balcony and lighting it.

“Why that man really didn’t show? I mean, this is his what…daughter-in-law?” he asked, taking a puff while eyeing you up and down slowly.

“Well, let’s see…you fucked me, got me pregnant, and are still fucking me. I mean, the list goes on—”

“I’m still fucking you?” he asked, a smirk creeping onto his lips as he took another hit.

You rolled your eyes, annoyed with his bullshit, as if he were oblivious to just two months ago when you and that “man” were on a break.

“So what does that mean? Because he knows I ain’t going nowhere. The real question is, why stay? Some simp ass shit if you ask me.”

“Because he actually loves me, Eren, and he wants to give it a chance and work to be a family and grow a family—”

“He ain’t special. F/n, I love you too; it’s just you be tripping, bro.”

“I be tripping? Asking you to come home was tripping, and asking you to be involved with your family was tripping? You act like I was asking for money?! Mind you, I worked just as hard as you—”

“Bro, that was what, seven years ago? We were kids, and I didn’t know what I was doing. I’ve told you I’m sorry for all that.”

“Yeah, well, sorry doesn’t account for me going through my pregnancy alone, Eren. I didn’t even have my family…member? I was doing all this shit alone, remember?”

“And I’m sorry, mamas, I am. I tell you that every time we have this conversation,” he said, his voice getting lower as he walked towards you, moving a few strands of hair from your face behind your ears.

“I’d tell you that every day just to make it right—to take it back, I would. Why won’t you let me?”

You glared at him, but it was hard to resist those pleading green orbs staring into your soul. A mix of regret and sadness lay behind them, but you weren’t falling for it…or were you?

You looked away, rolling your eyes, not knowing what to say. Why was it that you couldn’t take him back? Why, in his case, he been trying to make it right? What was it about him that made you want him yet hate him all at the same time? So many question yet no answers tonight…

there was no telling how to two of you had gotten from point A to point B but it was happening.

Without another word, Eren closed the distance between them, his hands cupping her face as he leaned in. Their lips met, tentative at first, as if testing the waters. But it didn’t take long for the kiss to deepen, growing more passionate with each passing moment.

F/n melted into him, her hands finding their way to his hair, fingers tangling in the soft strands as she pulled him closer. The taste of him was intoxicating, a mix of warmth and sweetness that sent shivers down her spine. Eren’s hands moved to her waist, drawing her against him, their bodies fitting together perfectly.

As the kiss intensified, F/n felt her body responding to him, the heat spreading through her as she pressed herself against him. Eren groaned softly, the sound reverberating through her, fueling the fire that burned between them.

They kissed like they were the only two people in the world, losing themselves in the moment. Eren’s lips traveled from hers to her jawline, trailing soft kisses down her neck, eliciting a sigh from F/n. She leaned her head back, giving him more access, reveling in the sensations he was creating.

“Eren,” she whispered, her voice a mix of desire and urgency.

He pulled back slightly, his eyes dark with need as he searched her face. “Tell me you want this,” he urged, his breath warm against her skin.

“I want this,” F/n breathed, her heart racing. “I want you.”

With that, Eren captured her lips again, their kisses growing more frantic, fueled by the overwhelming emotions they had been holding back. The world outside faded away, leaving only the two of them, lost in their own universe of passion and connection.

By now, they were on the bed, slowly pulling off one another’s clothes, barely breaking the passionate make-out session the two shared. The air was thick with desire, and each kiss ignited a fire within them that couldn’t be contained.

Eren’s hands roamed over F/n’s back, his fingers tracing the soft curves of her body as he peeled away the last barriers between them. Her skin felt electric under his touch, and he couldn’t suppress the low growl that escaped him as he reveled in the warmth of her.

F/n responded eagerly, her hands exploring the toned muscles of his chest and arms, feeling the strength in his body. She pulled him closer, their bodies pressed tightly together, the heat radiating between them almost overwhelming. Every kiss deepened their connection, and every touch sent shivers down their spines.

As they finally broke apart to catch their breaths, Eren looked into her eyes, a mix of desire and tenderness in his gaze. “Are you sure?” he asked, jokingly, the weight of the moment settling between them.

“Yes nigga now fuck me,” she breathed with a couple giggles in between, her heart racing with anticipation.

With a shared understanding, they leaned into each other again, kissing hungrily as Eren’s hands found their way to her thighs, gently coaxing her legs apart. F/n gasped against his lips, the sensation sending waves of excitement coursing through her.

Eren took a moment to admire her, his gaze filled with awe and longing. “You’re so sexy,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion.

F/n felt her cheeks flush at his words, and before she could respond, Eren captured her lips again, their mouths moving together as he positioned himself between her legs. The heat between them was palpable, and F/n could feel the tension building once more.

As Eren began to move, slowly at first, he watched her reaction closely, wanting to savor every moment. F/n arched her back, a moan escaping her lips as he deepened their connection, their bodies moving together in a rhythm that felt both exhilarating and intimate.

“Eren,” she gasped, gripping the sheets as he continued to thrust, each movement sending ripples of pleasure through her body.

“Just like that, baby,” he encouraged, his breath coming in heavy pants as he lost himself in the sensations.

F/n met his movements with her own, her body instinctively arching against him, urging him on. The world outside faded away as they became lost in each other, the only sounds filling the room were their breathless gasps and whispered encouragements.

Eren’s hands found her waist, pulling her closer as he quickened their pace, the intensity building with each thrust. F/n felt the pressure mounting within her, a delicious tension that threatened to consume her.

“Eren, I’m so close,” she cried out, her nails digging into his back as she clung to him.

“Fuck mama,Me too,” he grunted, his voice thick with desire. “Let go for me, F/n. I’m right there with you.”

With his words, the dam broke. F/n’s body surged with pleasure as waves of ecstasy washed over her, and she cried out Eren’s name, the sound echoing in the room. Eren followed closely behind, his own release crashing over him as he buried himself deep inside her, their bodies trembling together in the blissful aftermath.

They collapsed onto the bed, breathless and entwined, the world around them fading away as they held each other close. Eren pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead, a satisfied smile spreading across his lips.

*high as FUCK writing this I promise imma get better 😭🙏🏾

[psformybss]

hey, back again. btw LOVED the last one.

this request is for hidden vows (im obsessed with the series)

yn gets stormed by paparazzi and drew tells them to bakc off this happens 4 times so much that it affect yn and it just has to be stopped so they do something about maybe his team or drew personally

thanks lovely xx

Under Watchful Eyes

series masterlist

warnings: mentions of paparazzi, anxiety, mild harassment, protective behavior, emotional conversations, established relationship

an: im so glad you loved the last one, i hope you like this one too 🫶🏼

════════════════

They were supposed to be in Los Angeles for a few months, just long enough for Drew to finish shooting, maybe squeeze in some meetings. They had a plan, one that left plenty of space for beach mornings with Teddy and quiet nights on the balcony. A way to stay them in the middle of a city that demanded to be watched.

At first, it worked.

They kept to themselves, slipped in and out of coffee shops, found tucked-away restaurants no one seemed to care about.

Drew told her once, back when he first started seeing his name on billboards, that the trick was simple.

Keep walking.

Ignore it.

Let it roll off you.

The first time she got spotted alone, she remembered that.

It was a Sunday morning.

She had Teddy with her, leash in one hand and a bag of pastries in the other.

When she heard the click of the shutter, she stiffened but didn’t stop.

“Hey, Mrs. Starkey, smile for us!” a voice called.

She kept her face forward, her pace steady. Teddy, sensing her tension, stayed close to her side.

Her heart raced all the way back to their rental apartment, but she made it through.

When Drew came home that evening, she mentioned it in passing, a small shrug to brush it off.

He kissed her forehead, murmured, “You did good, baby.”

And she believed him.

For a while, she managed to shake it off.

Until it happened again.

This time she was alone, just a quick coffee run a few blocks away. She stepped out of the shop into a wall of cameras.

Two men this time, lenses flashing, voices sharp and quick.

“Where’s Drew?”

“Are you guys fighting?”

“Pregnant yet?”

The questions were personal without being cruel, but it was the way they boxed her in that made her skin crawl.

She kept moving, head down, remembering Drew’s voice in her head.

Still, when she got back to the apartment, her hands were trembling so badly she spilled the coffee across the counter.

She wiped it up before Drew got home, but the knot in her chest stayed.

It came out later over dinner.

They were eating takeout on the couch, Teddy sprawled at their feet.

“You sure you’re okay, baby?” Drew asked, nudging her with his foot.

She hesitated, poking at her food.

“I hate being watched like that,” she admitted finally.

“I can handle it once or twice, but it feels like they are… waiting for me now. Like I can’t even grab a coffee without someone watching.”

Drew set down his container, giving her his full attention.

“You don’t deserve that,” he said quietly.

“I don’t care what anyone says, being with me doesn’t mean you signed up for this shit.”

“I’m not weak,” she said, needing him to hear it.

His expression softened.

“I know you’re not. You’re the strongest person I know,” he said, leaning in.

“But strong or not, you’re still mine to protect.”

She swallowed hard at that, blinking quickly.

He tucked a piece of hair behind her ear, his hand lingering against her cheek.

“I’ll take care of it,” he said. “Promise.”

A few days later, they went to dinner together, thinking it would be safer if they stuck close.

They were laughing about something stupid when the flashes started.

Three men, cameras up, voices rising over each other.

“Look this way, Drew!”

“Is your wife jealous of your co-stars?”

“How does she feel about all the kissing scenes?”

Drew moved fast.

One hand slid around her waist, pulling her tightly against him, shielding her from the flashes.

He said nothing at first, just leveled a look at the nearest guy that could have stopped a moving car.

“Move,” Drew said, voice low and dangerous.

There was no shouting, no scene. Just a command. And for a second, they listened.

He tucked her into the car, slamming the door closed, the sharp click cutting through the noise.

Inside, she pressed her forehead against the window, heart hammering.

Drew reached over, pulling her hand into his.

“I got you, baby,” he said quietly. “I got you.”

Her fingers curled tightly around his. She breathed in the familiar scent of him, the safety he wrapped around her so easily.

“I hate feeling like this,” she said when they were pulling out of the lot.

“Like I have to think about every step I take.”

“You should never have to,” Drew said. His voice was hard in a way it rarely was with her.

“You deserve to live your life without looking over your shoulder.”

He meant it.

Within the week, things started changing.

The paparazzi sightings slowed. Some of the more aggressive photographers disappeared entirely.

When she asked Drew about it, he only shrugged, a quiet smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“Handled it,” he said simply.

What she did not know until later was that Drew had moved his team into action behind the scenes.

Threats of harassment lawsuits were sent out.

Certain agencies found themselves banned from events, their access quietly revoked.

A few meetings with local security firms had made it clear that if they wanted to keep working in this town, they would steer clear of Drew Starkey’s wife.

No statement. No drama.

Just quiet, unwavering protection.

Exactly the way she needed it.

There were still moments.

Small things.

A flash across the street.

A man pretending to scroll through his phone a little too close to where she and Teddy sat outside a coffee shop.

But the pressure had lifted.

It was not perfect, but it was livable again.

And the difference showed.

One night, they sat on the balcony, Teddy snoring at their feet, the city buzzing soft and low beyond them.

Drew leaned back in his chair, one arm draped around her shoulders.

“You’re getting your spark back,” he said, voice low against her ear.

She smiled, feeling it too. That lightness that had been missing for weeks.

“You made it possible,” she said, turning to kiss his jaw.

He caught her chin in his hand, pulling her closer.

“I would do anything for you,” he said, so simply it rooted into her bones.

“Anything.”

Teddy snorted at their feet, shifting in his sleep.

She laughed softly and tucked herself closer into Drew’s side, the city humming, the world feeling wide and open again.

Not because it was easy.

Not because it was perfect.

But because it was theirs.

And they had fought for it together.

════════════════

taglist: @maybankslover

[rynfiles]

mommy kissing santa claus ? oh goodness !

✎ᝰ — your adorable children catches you and your husband sneaking kisses from one another, except that they see santa claus and not your actual husband

★ — gojo, toji, geto x fem!reader

★ — genre + warnings: fluff & very suggestive + allusion to sex from previous night in geto’s (nothing explained/nothing in detail)

★ — a/n: thank you to my pookie kai for your help (@strawhatkia) and dedicated to my tia baeeee <3 (@tiathecreator)

꒰ SATORU GOJO ꒱

°❆ christmas day lingers quicker and quicker and midnight is close to striking, but of course, you and your husband are wrapping gifts very last minute. there would be a great explanation to this but there isn’t, both of your work schedules and the children's school schedules, made it barely possible to wrap gifts. which leads to the two of you rapidly, and terribly, wrapping gifts as your twin children sleep.

but, to make the night slightly more festive, gojo decided to dress up as santa claus. he bought two sets, one as pajamas and one for the morning as everyone unwrapped their gifts. he thought it would excite the children for the festive holiday. you laughed at his frivolous idea and immediately he pulled out a mrs. claus outfit….oh gosh. you laughed at the suit, you rejected the outfit and continued wrapping, ignoring his pleas as it got worse and worse.

gojo dressed up with the beard and santa hat, trying to convince you that dressing up is a wonderful idea and the kids would love it. though in your mind, you’re thinking of wondering how to tell this white-haired man that he looks like a creep and not santa claus, but you wouldn’t hurt his precious little heart like that. instead, you continued to wrap the remaining gifts, until you felt a sudden heaviness on your chest. heaviness that could be described as your brawny, whiny, six-foot-four husband still pleading with you to dress up with him. his usual gleeful blue eyes become doe-y, now giving away the desperation that gojo is never ashamed of.

you laugh at his desperation and ask him to get off but of course, he refuses. he hugs you and traps you in a tight space, you trying to squirm out of his hold and him hovering you. it also doesn’t make it better that his doe-y look turned into a sense of mischief, you raised your eyebrow at his look, and he simply shrugged at it. you two stared at each other until gojo’s lips formed a smirk and placed a sensual kiss on you. you opened your mouth to object to the kiss but instead, he placed another one and another…and another. he continued to kiss you until you kissed back, light noises made as both of your hands traveled. the kiss continued and distracted both of you from the gift wrapping and the fact that the twins had woken up from their sleep.

your bedroom door opens widely, but of course, you and gojo hadn’t noticed, and both of them yelled, “santa?!”. your child’s voice startled both of you and gojo immediately fell off of you and almost until the gifts. you elbowed him to get the gifts out of their sight, he grabbed the nearest blanket and threw it on top of their gifts. you asked your children why they couldn’t sleep and they answered back why you were kissing thee santa claus, the big dude with a sack of gifts. why is santa kissing their mom and not their dad? this is nuts, insane, crazy to even think about!

while the kids were trying to lecture you on how much dad loves you and how you’re such a bad person to dad, you looked to gojo and gojo burst into laughter, you followed along and laughed as well. both kids looked at each other with confusion and hurt on their faces. gojo patted the space between the two of you and told them to sit there as he explained a (terribly) exaggerated story on how their dad is the real santa claus, that’s why he’s extra busy during the month of december. he even took off the beard and hat to prove that’s it their giddy father and not the man in red with a bunch of elves. both children were confused and continued to ask questions, one of them didn’t believe him and still pointed to you as a cheater. you shook your head and added fictional events to gojo’s story, no matter how exaggerated it sounded aloud.

꒰ SUGURU GETO ꒱

°❆ christmas springs upon the morning, and you only know this because both of the young girls, nanako and mimiko, are banging at the door. you and geto groan and try to ignore it, if only the girls didn’t start fiddling with the door, and that startled the both of you. particularly ‘cause the aftermath of last night was still present, since the both of you weren’t clothed.

thankfully, yet oddly, you were reminded to tell geto about the santa suit to wear for the morning. now was it a silly idea? most definitely! was for nanako and mimiko? mostly yes, and you needed some type of memory of christmas morning on your phone. you walk over to your closet and shuffle around the boxes of presents until you spotted the big red suit and hat to match. you smiled ever so cunningly to yourself, geto noticed but shrugged his shoulders and went about to brush his teeth. you pulled the suit from behind the presents and showed it geto, proposing to him to wear it for this merry morning. geto being geto, he immediately rejected but that no didn’t stop you from convincing him to wear. did it take a lot of convincing? oh definitely. did it take a lot of “are you guys done yet?” from your two girls? yes…sadly yes.

the only thing that convinced him was that it would bring a lot of glee to his girls and he can’t disappoint his girls, he just can’t. even if it means sucking up his pride and dressing up as santa claus and pretending to bring the gifts from the north pole. it also helps, not geto though, that you bought a sack similar to santa’s so he could truly be in character.

after some time of getting ready for the morning, as in fussing with geto about the suit and carefully placing the presents into sack, you entered the living room with a smile that is hiding something, but the girls are too focused on their stocking stuffers to notice. they bounce with gleefulness as they open small gifts such as doll clothes, hair accessories, some candy, and other minuscule things they asked for. they continued to bounce around the tree as they tried to peek at what their gifts could be but were forced not to open them until their surprise arrived.

the girls grew tired after some minutes and frequently asked when is their surprise is coming. nanako tried to sneakily open one of her gifts under the tree until the iconic, “ho! ho! ho!”, made it’s way into your home and the girls jumped up from their spot to see santa claus in their home. their jaws dropped and their eyes grew from the sudden appearance of santa claus, the true (fake) santa in their home! you giggled at their amusement and you noticed geto’s mouth growing from annoyed to relaxed as he small childish smiles on his girl’s faces. maybe dressing up as santa wasn’t too bad of an idea for geto, but who is he to tell you that you’re right?

the girls eagerly asked questions as santa geto sat down to give their gifts, he tried to answer to the best of his abilities or at least give believable answers for them. mimiko questioned him on why santa’s hair looked similar to their father’s and he immediately answered with hair dye and extensions. you smiled to yourself at the beautiful, and playful, sight of the girls enjoying geto as santa claus, you took many pictures on your phone while they weren’t looking.

though, geto caught you mid-click and pulled you onto his lap. he peppered kisses all over your face and gave you “your gift”, an enduring and sweet kiss to say “I love you”. though, maybe nanako and mimiko shouldn’t have been present to witness that cause immediate yelling came from the both of them. they mostly yelled at geto and asked him why he kissed their mother, he’s supposed to be married to mrs. claus! he shouldn’t have his lips on their mother and their mom shouldn’t like that, their father would be furious!

you and geto smiled at their lecture, you giggled to yourself and geto pulled off his costume, reavealing to them that he is santa claus. mimiko tried to say that she always knew from the hair but the both of you knew that was a lie.

꒰ TOJI FUSHIGURO ꒱

°❆ a clink goes and laughter fills the living room, just as much as it is with red and white, and the typical splatter of different colors from megumi and tsumiki, love and peace decorate it as well. two bottles of wine sat at the dresser, one already halfway done as you and toji chatted (and drank) away for christmas eve. but as the wine bottle becomes empty, the space between you two becomes closer. then again, he has been gone for a whole month and a half, it’s only right to feel this way with him.

it’s only right to feel this way of yearning from his absence, which explains why his arm slyly brings your lower body closer to him. it explains why his fingers drag themselves along your thigh, lightly dragging around your stretch marks. it explains why toji brought himself closer to your face, only a mere inch away from your lips interlocking. but instead he brings the idea of dressing as santa claus and mrs. claus for the night? sounds odd, trust it is and the way your head is titled, he knew that it sounded odd to you.

he explains himself further and says that it's only right that you dress up for the holiday season. plus, he’s one hundred percent sure that mrs. claus misses her dead old husband. you still had a look of confusion on your face, toji sighed and went into the closet to change into the costume he had prepared. except when he came out, it was barely anything like the classic look of santa; it was a red thermal top with fur cuffs, barely cropped but can still show a peek of his abs, the top had a bell at the collar, quite small and quite annoying. red thermal pants to match as well and a santa hat (something to keep it classic).

you burst into laughter as you saw the awful outfit he claimed to be dressed as “santa claus”. when in actuality, he looks like an elf on the shelf and you told him that, crying in laughter as toji huffs in embarrassment. he grumbled to himself, saying it was the last time he tried to be “in the merry spirit”. he continued to grumble to himself and you continued to laugh at him, still not over the ridiculous outfit, you gave props for trying, but couldn’t get over it.

granted, his muscle build made it look somewhat attractive but the amount of red on him just threw you in for a loop. it also doesn’t help that the bell jingles every time he moves. his embarrassment grew into frustration, making him throw off the top and your laugh dialed down. the both of you forgot how bashful you can get when toji is topless, due to his absence.

toji noticed, finding amusement at how your laughter was taken back as soon as he removed his shirt. which made him want to tease you just a slight bit; he moved back to the bed and grabbed your hand, moving it to place on his hips. then drags it along his waist, he lets out a small groan when you press your nails onto it.

as both of your hands roamed over each other, the space between your bodies constricted, leaning closer and closer until your lips ghosted over. you both chuckled before kissing one another, a kiss that could be described as loving, enduring, and passionate. but could you blame each other?

well, the only thing to blame is that door wasn’t completely closed and tsumiki happened to pass by. she glanced and continued to the kitchen, but then backtracked to your room. she spotted the red hat and thought to herself, “santa? there’s no way, why is santa in mommy’s room?”. she tip-toed closer to the small crack that your door left and viewed the kiss shared between you and toji. her jaw dropped and she immediately ran, quietly ran, to megumi’s room to wake him up. megumi grumbled to her to let him sleep, yet tsumiki insisted that she saw her mom kissing santa claus. she saw it with her own two eyes!

megumi didn’t believe her and tried to ignore her but he knew that wouldn’t work, therefore getting up from his bed and treading towards your bedroom. he didn’t even bother knocking and opening the door, immediately wishing he didn’t from the way his parents were on each other. thankfully, you both were clothed and didn’t do anything…yet.

toji scolded megumi for not knocking on the door and megumi rolled his eyes. megumi turned over to tsumiki and pointed out to her that santa claus was just their dad in a santa hat, it wasn’t the actual santa eating their mom’s mouth. tsumiki felt naive for falling for something so obvious but she can admit that she was a bit spooked that santa looked much too similar to toji. she even commented on how toji’s back looks sharp like rocks while santa’s doesn’t, that only made toji confused and you and megumi laughing at the comment.

toji came closer to tsumiki and started to chase her around the house, yelling how she’s gonna coal for christmas for peeking into her parent’s bedroom. you and megumi shook your heads but was amused at this family’s dynamic.

★ I tried so hard not to make toji’s include smut, yall please- like it’s so hard not making this whore when it’s literally canon that he is

★ would yall believe me if i said toji’s was the longest 🧍🏽‍♀️…?

★ lemme know which one was yall fav <3

© 𝟤𝟢𝟤𝟥 𝗋𝗒𝗇𝖿𝗂𝗅𝖾𝗌. 𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗋𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍𝗌 𝗋𝖾𝗌𝖾𝗋𝗏𝖾𝖽

[absurdthirst]

Unexpectedly Mated {Alpha!Mando x F!Omega!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 6.1k

Warnings: Alpha/Omega dynamics, heats, denying biological needs, religious creeds, removing your helmet, jealousy, territorial aggression, fingering, first kisses, vaginal sex, rough sex, knotting, mates, marking

Comments: Forbidden to remove your helmet by Creed, Mandalorians deny their basic biological needs as Alphas and Omegas. The helmet blocks the scant of their true mate. Until an open air vent leads Mando to discover that you are his omega.

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

*** When reblogging or talking about Omegaverse, please remember that ‘a/b/o’ without the slash punctuation marks (/) is considered a slur for the Aboriginal people in Australia.

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|| MasterList || The Mandalorian MasterList ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

“You must never remove your helmet.” The creed and these words drilled into you at a young age and you have never forgotten, would never be allowed to forget. The creed comes before all else. The covert comes before the individual. In a galaxy full of alphas, omegas, and betas…Mandalorians stood alone. Defying their biological status to better the covert, to keep the numbers up. You wear the helmet to not only protect your face but to keep you from recognizing your mate. The scent recognition of a mate is instant so the Mandalorian solution is to wear helmets with filters so that one can breed with anyone they prefer. Their minds are clouded with scent so the desire is the driving factor. The younglings are raised by the covert as a unit so the aim is to repopulate Mandalore. You suppress your omega urges with supplements and you’ve yet to breed. Too busy with bounty hunting alongside a certain Din Djarin. You’re drawn to him, that’s for sure, but you’ve never bred with him. He’s not interested in a family, in an ad. He wants credits. He wants to protect the foundling under his care and you’ve gone along for the ride.

“Din.” Your modulated voice calls out to him as he strides ahead of you after you reunited the frog woman with her husband. “The kid needs to eat.” You tell him, knowing you need to find the nearest cantina.

The sigh Din gives you is one of frustration and resignation. He likes the kid, he’s risked a lot to protect him, even his covert. The sins he has committed weigh heavily on his shoulders and he nods. “Come on.” He grumbles to the little one. “I know you’re hungry, we’ll get you something to eat.” Hopefully the Crest will be fixed soon. Unable to take off his helmet unless he is in his bunk is starting to frustrate him, the hermetically sealed space is starting to feel stale with the cycled air and he longs for a single breath of fresh air. He had also hoped to slip away for a moment, needing to find a medical facility to replace his implant. It had been damaged from his fight with Moff Gideon and he’s not had time to have it seen to. While he doesn’t visit a brothel or find a sexual partner often, he can feel the need to rut building up in his system. The alpha side he tries to suppress starts to bleed through his normally calm demeanor. 

You sit with the kid in the cantina, snorting when Din saves him from his own lunch and you glance around at the sailors. They mention Mandalorians and you are surprised to hear of your kind here, especially since Din wants to find them so he can help the kid return to his own planet. “Before we head off, maybe we can freshen up. I need to use the fresher and I’m sure you also want some time out of beskar.”

He groans at the idea of time outside the suit. Letting his skin breath and maybe he can work in a quick tug on his cock while he’s in the ‘fresher. “We’ll have to get rooms.” He reminds you, his head tilting towards yours. “Do you want to do that?”

You nod, “that sounds like a plan. I’m sure this one needs a nap after everything.” You say, reaching out to caress the kid’s ear. He coos at you and finishes his broth with a loud slurp. “Let’s find somewhere.” You say and throw some credits down for the broth. Din nods and you’re soon following him into the inn nearby. You are eager for a shower and some time out of the heavy beskar. Despite wearing it since you were a kid, you have always been weighed down by it. Din gets two rooms and you nod at him when he carries the now sleeping child into the room.

The child’s eyes never open, making Din chuckle quietly as he closes the pod and sets it in the corner of the room. Looking around to make sure the windows are covered before he reaches up and unlatches the edge of his helmet and groans quietly when he pulls it off his head. His hair is sweaty, but immediately the scent of the outside world is much more vivid. Making him inhale deeply and growl quietly at how good it all smells. Being an alpha as a Mandalorian was tricky, his own scent blocked by the helmet, but others could smell him. Making things difficult for him at times, especially when he cannot even walk around his own ship with his helmet unsealed because you are with him. Now, he sits on the edge of the bed, with his eyes closed and breathes deep, unaware that the vent between your two rooms has not been closed. 

You hum as you tilt your head under the water. An actual shower instead of the ‘fresher on the ship is a welcome surprise. You don’t realize the vent in your room is open so Din can smell you as your omega scent wafts through the room, warmed up from the shower and the water flowing onto your face blocks you from smelling Din.

It’s subtle at first. A teasing waft that caresses his nose and makes his cock twitch. The beautiful, heady scent of an omega. Making him groan quietly until the next wave hits him. His omega. The scent overwhelms him and he’s immediately hard, aching and desperate to claim the omega who is meant to be his mate. His mate. His eyes widen when he sees the vent opened, called to it as he follows the scent. It’s the vent that connects your room to his. You’re his mate.

You can feel a tugging in your stomach when you step out of the shower and you frown, wondering if you’re going to go into heat soon. You’ll need to get some more suppressants since you don’t have the time to spend days nesting while you are with Din. He doesn’t want you to be a needy omega holding him back from his quest. You dry off, shutting the door to the bathroom behind you and you lay down on the bed, unable to stop your hand from snaking down to rub your clit, a whimper escaping your lips.

Din snaps the vent closed. Hand curling into a fist as he pants against the shared wall. You’re his mate, his omega. His mind whirls as he tries to reconcile that new information with the stalwart and steady Mandalorian he has been bounty hunting with. He won’t deny that he wondered about fucking you before, it’s only natural that he would given how close you had been. His cock throbs as he imagines you in your armor, slowly stripping it off and walking around your room nude. Building a nest and begging him to join you. “Fuck.” He hisses.

You fall asleep naked on the bed after making yourself cum, relieving the ache in your stomach, enjoying being out of your beskar. You sleep until there’s a knock on the door and you groan, waking up and immediately grabbing your helmet to slide it onto your head. “It’s time to go.” Din says and you call out, “no problem. I’ll get ready and be right out.”

You redress in your beskar, your stomach still aching but you decide you’ll seek out some suppressants later. Opening the door, you find Din standing there with the kid. “Morning buddy.” You coo to the child and look up at Din who looks tense. “Everything okay?” You ask him, tilting your helmet. 

You know that Din can be all business but there’s something off about him. You ignore it and follow Din down the hall to find the sailors who are granting you passage on their boat to find the Mandalorians that are apparently on the planet. Later on, you admire the water as the raft moves along, glancing at Din who is stiff, well, stiffer than normal. “Are you sure you’re okay?” You ask softly, the sailors moving around behind you.

“Let me go!” You growl in anger, swinging your arm to fling a sailor into the water. Using your strength to try and untangle yourself from the ropes when Din and the child are in danger and that’s when they appear: the Mandalorians.

The redhead who introduced herself as Bo Katan shakes her head. “I’ve heard of your sect of the religion but Maker…I didn’t know how far it went in controlling its followers. On Mandalore, we wish for alphas and omegas to find their mate, it makes for stronger bonds, stronger families. We don’t - that is not something we dictate.” You swallow harshly as her words, feeling a tugging in your stomach that makes you want to lean towards Din but you push that aside. “You can remove your helmet and you would not be dar'manda.” Bo Katan explains and you’re so tempted.

Din stands up, angry at them for tempting him, tempting you. He shakes his head. “You are not mandalorian.” He growls, reaching down and takes your arm to pull you to your feet. “We are leaving.” He tells you, turning and striding away from the group angrily. 

You let Din guide you out of the cantina and you sigh, “Din. Slow down. Maybe…maybe they are telling the truth. As Mandalorians, we are denying our biological need. We are denying nature itself. Why? What- what good is it?” You ask him, the child in the pouch nestled against his hip.

“What good is it?” Din stops and spins around, crowding you slightly and even though you cannot smell it, pheromones pour off of him in heavy waves. All this talk of mates and finding out you are his has him desperate to claim you. To take what is his. “The Creed. That is what good it is. Our secrecy is our survival. We. Do. Not. Remove. Our. Helmets.” 

You shake your helmet, stumbling back away from him. “I do not want to breed with whomever the armorer tells me to. I want to find my mate. I want to feel complete.” You yell, quickly flicking the lock to your helmet and you waste no time lifting it off of your head in public for the first time since you were twelve. It hits you immediately. His scent. He’s an alpha. Your alpha. “You- oh Maker. Alpha.” You address him, your stomach twisting with sudden need for him.

Din hisses, his body jerking at the tone of your voice, the submissive nature of it. Calling to him. His hands curl into fists and he moves, shielding you from any eyes that could possibly see your face. “Put your helmet on.” He demands roughly, knowing that he cannot do this right now. He cannot have this conversation with you in the middle of a spaceport. 

Your lower lip trembles, feeling the rejection, and you shove your helmet back on your head, flicking the lock and his scent is replaced with fresh air through the filter. “Clearly you do not wish to have me as your omega so I am going to go back to the cantina. Perhaps another alpha can help with my heat.” You didn’t get a chance to pick up suppressants and the scent of your alpha has your stomach twisting with the sudden heat, the urge to mate and be claimed by him has you sweating already. You need to be touched and as much as you wish for it to be him, it’s obvious that he doesn’t want that. You spin on your heel before he can answer to make your way back into the cantina.

Growling, Din watches you walk off. Sighing when he knows he cannot follow you. The child is still beside him, looking up and cooing at him as if to tell him that he had fucked up. “Come on kid.” He grunts, turning and walking away from you even though his entire body is screaming to follow you. “I need to find someone to watch you.” He knows he cannot have a conversation with you around the kid, around anyone. He needs to find another room, then he will bring you back for a talk. 

You want to take off your helmet and down a spotchka or five, but Din’s command to not remove your helmet is ringing in your ears. You sit at the bar when you feel a presence next to you. “What’s a Mandalorian omega doing all alone?” He asks and you snort, “I haven’t got an alpha.” You state despite your chest aching, knowing you have an alpha but he doesn’t want you. On your walk to the cantina, you realized that Din didn’t question being your alpha. Which means he must’ve taken his helmet off at some point and found out. You wonder how long he’s known. Why he had kept it from you. “That’s good news for me, sweetheart. I’ve never been with a Mandalorian before and it smells like you might be needing an alpha at any moment.” He says, leaning closer and your stomach pangs with the beginning of a heat. 

“I- I ran out of suppressants.” You confess, turning towards him despite everything in you wanting to run to find Din.

The Frog Lady had agreed to watch the baby, leaving Din to go back to the little inn where you had stayed last night and get another room. He knows that he owes you a conversation, a real conversation and he cannot do that in public. Once he has the key, Din tucks it into his belt and sets off for the cantina. He knows you are angry at him, hurt. He wants to give you time to cool down for a moment, to think rationally again. To remember your creed so both of you can agree that nothing will happen until you can find the armorer again and speak with her. Striding confidently towards the seedy little bar, he is sure that it would work. 

You giggle when the alpha leans in, telling you a joke about Jawas and you are distracted for a moment from talking about your heat. He offers to buy you a drink but you decline, not wanting to take your helmet off, but it’s nice to talk to someone without them just giving you a grunt as an answer. You unconsciously lean closer to the alpha, your body heated as your biological need threatens to overwhelm you.

Walking into the bar, Din unlocks his helmet, unsealing it so he can smell you. Attraction and arousal, pouring from you and he follows the scent. Finding you sitting at the bar, another alpha leaning in, obviously interested in touching you, fucking you. The need to protect you roars to life in his chest and his alpha nature  rips through his self control. Moving quickly to you, barely resisting the urge to pull his blaster on the cocksure alpha who is grinning at his mate. “Get the fuck away from her.” He growls, shoving between the two of you and puffing up his chest, towering over the other man and trying to be as intimidating as possible.

You gasp at Din’s sudden appearance and you stand up from your stool. “Alpha.” You place your hand on Din’s chest plate to keep him back from the other alpha. 

“Hey buddy. Me and this omega were talking.” The alpha says and you wince under your helmet, knowing that he needs to shut up before he gets a blaster in the face. 

“Din, just leave him.” You huff, pissed that he is dictating what you can and can’t do.

“My omega.” Din growls, his hand inches away from his blaster and he stares hard at the man from behind his visor. “Move away.” He warns but the man scoffs and doesn’t look impressed. 

“She doesn’t seem taken. She seems like she’s real interested in getting to know me. ‘Bout to go into heat, needs an alpha buried in her cunt, knotting her.”

His words make you wince as you know Din, any alpha, wouldn’t allow them to speak about their omega that way. “It’s obvious you haven’t claimed her. What’s wrong, Mando? Not got the balls to do what needs to be done. She doesn’t smell like you. She smells wet. She smells ready for a cock. Clearly you aren’t enough for her. She wants to get fucked.” The alpha smirks, pushing Din’s buttons even more.

Din’s hand shoots out, wrapping it around the other alpha’s throat and squeezing harshly. Enjoying the way his pheromones immediately turned to ones of distress and his eyes bulge while his blue skin turns purple as the airways are cut off by the pressure of Din’s hand. “My omega.” Din rasps out, voice dangerously low and threatening. “Mine. Not yours. Mine.” The urge to kill him is clouding his thoughts, to demonstrate that you are his. That he would protect you.

“Alpha. Alpha. Don’t. He’s not worth it. I’m yours. I’m yours.” You promise Din, knowing that fact deep within your bones but you’re still furious with him. You place your hands on his chest plate, your helmet tilted towards his, “please. Just take me back to the inn. Don’t do this.”

Slowly, Din relaxes his fingers and lets go. Getting immense satisfaction when the other alpha gasps for air and immediately grabs his throat. He grabs your hands and ducks his shoulder down, hauling you over his shoulder like he would a bounty. Ignoring your shrieks as he storms out of the cantina with you.

You are shocked that Din is carrying you back to the inn and, you can admit to yourself, turned on by the primal display. "Din. Put me down!" You demand but he ignores you until he's in front of the room he had gotten for you. Finally putting you down. "I can't believe you did that." You shake your helmet and he opens the door.

 "Inside." He demands and you obey him immediately, stepping into the room. Din steps into the room, letting the door close and locking it behind him. “You were going to let him touch you?” He demands, pissed off that you were searching for someone, despite the fact that he had not immediately claimed you.

You feel defiant now despite being alone with your alpha. "I was. I am going into heat. If you didn’t touch me, I needed to find another alpha to satisfy my needs." You declare despite knowing that no one would give you what you need from Din. 

“You’ve worked through heats before.” Din growls, remembering how he had heard your whimpering cries from your bunk as you used your toys. It had been hard to deal with, when he hadn’t known he was your alpha. Wanting to offer you his cock the entire time, but he had respected your need for privacy. “Why not this time?”

“Because - because I wanted to feel wanted. I wanted someone to touch me who wanted to touch me, to make me feel something. I know you already knew I was your omega. You weren’t shocked when I found out you were my alpha. You didn’t - you didn’t sound surprised at all. How long have you known?” You ask, crossing your arms.

He leans back from you, surprised that you are attacking him and not liking it. “I-“ he huffs, rolling his eyes under his helmet and sighs. “Yesterday.” He admits quietly. “The vents between our rooms weren't closed. I-I smelled you when I took my helmet off.”

You are placated when you find out it was only yesterday but you’re still hurt that he didn’t tell you. “I didn’t smell you yesterday. I - I was showering and I -” You frown under the helmet. “You weren’t going to tell me, were you?”

“I- we-“ Din shakes his head. “You know what Mandalorians do.” He reasons with you. “The Armorer aligns breeding partners. I-“ He bites his lip under his helmet and sighs. “I was going to ask the Armorer for you, to be paired with you when we find them again.”

You understand where he is coming from but you feel frustrated by him. "Din. We - we are mates. What we have is...it's more than the creed. It's more than just breeding. It's how it is supposed to be. It's primal and raw. We are mates. Destined for each other and you've been by my side for so long yet neither of us knew what the other was meant to be. I want - I want you. I need you. Fuck the creed. Fuck the Armorer. You're my alpha and I - I want you. No matter what the consequences are." You say, "but if you don't want that - want me - I will leave. I'll go back to the covert and you can finish your quest alone."

He wants to argue against your comments, his heart twisting when he hears you say you would walk away. “Always wanted you.” He confesses quietly, breathing deeply and soaking in your scent. “Since the second week together. Watching you wipe the floor with that Twi.” He snorts, smirking slightly under his helmet. “Wanted you all the time.”

You chuckle, remembering that fight when you were both so much younger. You step towards him, "I have always wanted you. Always imagined you when I was in my nest." You confess softly, "I think I knew, unconsciously, that I was yours."

“I thought about you a lot.” Din confesses, taking a deep breath as he remembers what Bo Katan had said about mates being able to reveal their faces to each other. He takes a deep breath and reaches up to slowly start sliding his helmet off.

Your eyes widen under your helmet as Din exposes his face to you and you get your first look at his handsome face. "Maker. You are -" You can see him tense with anxiety and you reach up with your gloved hand to cup his cheek. "Mesh'la." You tell him, unable to tear your eyes away from those beautiful brown eyes. "Do you - you can remove my helmet...if you want."

He’s proud that you find him appealing. His one glimpse of you too fleeting for his own liking, finding you mesh’la as well. “I want to see you, omega.” He hums as he slowly reaches for your helmet. “My omega. My mate.”

You’re nervous for him to fully look at you without your helmets on, and your heart pounds beneath your chest plate. You bite your lip when your eyes meet his without the pixelated visor screen and his brown eyes soften. “Din. Alpha.” You murmur, watching him as he stares at you.

“Mesh’la.” He murmurs softly, staring into your eyes and feeling his cock harden beneath his flight suit as he smells and sees you clearly for the first time. He groans your name. “Omega.”

You ache for him, your heat curling in your stomach, and you wonder what he wants, if he still wants to wait until you return to the covert. “I don’t know what you want from me right now. Do you want us to put our helmets back on and continue on like this never happened until we return to the Armorer?” You ask, a little breathless.

“I cannot pretend I haven’t seen your face, smelled you.” Din groans, his eyes nearly closing in pain when a wave of arousal drifts over him. “I- you’re mine.” He growls again. “You are going into heat, I will take care of you.”

You whimper at his words, your body starting to get overheated with need. “Alpha.” You gasp, starting to work on removing your beskar, needing to feel the air on your hot skin. “I need you.” You pant, efficiently stripping down until you’re in your bra band and panties, boots kicked aside and you slide your hand into your panties, needing to rub your clit for some relief.

“Omega.” He growls, body tense and he steps forward, his need to touch you and take care of you nearly overwhelming his rational sense. He is about to touch you, still completely dressed in his armor except for his helmet. When he sees his gloves, he stops. “Get on the bed.” He orders, starting to strip down himself. Needing to press his skin to yours. “I will make sure you don’t need your fingers. You can have mine.”

You obey his order, shifting to lay down on the bed after reluctantly pulling your fingers out of your panties, and you watch him strip off. “Alpha. You are - you’re mesh’la.” You say, sitting up on your elbows to watch him, seeing the scars from blasters that grazed the vulnerable spots in his beskar and you want to kiss every one of them.

His own groan is one of pride and need, seeing you squirming on the bed, waiting for him. His omega, needy and wet. His hand wraps around his cock and he slowly starts to jerk himself. “You are mesh’la, cyar’ika.” He hums, eyes dark and full of lust. The waves of need and want roll off of you and mix with his own desire to fill the room. “My sweet little, omega. Wanting my cock, needing my knot.”

His voice, unmodulated, makes you shiver, and you watch him with wide eyes. “Yours, alpha.” You promise, reaching behind you to unclip your bra band, tossing it onto the floor to expose your tits to his gaze as he pumps his cock. You are aching for him. “Please. Alpha. I need your touch.”

He’s heard it before. The needy begging and calling to his alpha, but never from his mate. Growling, he scrambles onto the bed, one hand grabbing your breast while the other rips your panties off effortlessly.

You cry out in satisfaction as he quickly pushes two thick digits inside of you. “Yesss.” You hiss, feeling the ache assuage slightly with his digits curling deep inside of you. “Fuck, Din. Alpha. Yes.” You whine, tilting your head towards his.

It will be the first time he’s kissed anyone and it’s fitting that it’s his mate. His lips come crashing down against yours roughly as he curls his fingers inside you. Unskilled, he relies on what he had imagined doing, watching holo vids and jerking off when he was alone in his bunk. His tongue pushing into your mouth when you moan and he makes a feral sound of pleasure of his own.

You moan into his mouth, tangling your tongue with his and it’s unskilled but passionate. Your hands tangle in his hair, tugging slightly and you feel his cock twitch against your thigh. You’ve both had sex before, neither of you have kissed and it’s clumsy but you soon get the hang of it.

He feels like he doesn’t want to ever stop kissing you. Pumping his fingers deep inside your quivering cunt, he groans and rocks his hips against your belly. Loving how eagerly you respond to me.

You pant into his mouth, getting closer to orgasm with the way his fingers pump into you. "Alpha. I'm gonna- you're gonna make me - fuck!" You cry into his mouth as you clamp down on his digits, the ache in your belly satiated for a moment.

The first orgasm from his omega nearly makes him cum untouched. Din moans your name as he works you through the way your walls clench and your juices soak his hand. Pleasured pheromones pour off of you and he ducks his head down to press his tongue to your scent gland.

Feeling his tongue on your scent gland has you whining his name and your nails dig into his back, wanting him to bite you but he won’t until he’s ready. “I need you inside of me. Please, alpha.” You beg, gently pushing him off of you so you can shift onto your hands and knees for him.

Din growls, loving the submissive display, looking at your dripping cunt as you move to your hands and knees. Showing him how badly you need him. “My omega is eager.” He groans, slapping your ass and squeezing your hips as he throbs. He knows this first time will be rough. You know it too. Taking his cock on his hand, he shuffles forward and notches it at your entrance. Hissing when he snaps his hips forward ruthlessly and buries himself deep in your cunt.

Your breath is immediately pushed from your lungs and you gasp as he stretches you out. You fall forward onto your elbows and squeeze your eyes shut as he doesn’t hesitate to start moving inside of you. It’s rough and your body feels like it’s on fire. “Yes! Oh fuck, yes! Alpha. I- shit.” You curse, cunt fluttering around his cock.

You’re perfect around him. Gloriously tight and taking every harsh thrust with a choked moan as he starts to hammer into you. Need and the instinct to give you every piece of himself has him gripping your hips like you might get away from him and rocking deep to push up against your womb.

You grip the sheets beneath you, your cheek pressed against them as he pushes into you over and over again. “Fuck. Oh fuck Din.” You pant, thighs starting to shake as he pushes you closer and closer to orgasm with every harsh rock of his hips.

Suddenly, Din stops. Circling his hips as he lifts your and grinds into you. He was going to cum and he wants to make sure that you are satisfied before he gives into any of his own needs. “Fuck, omega, you are so perfect.” He grunts out, panting as he feels you squeeze him. “Are you going to be a good girl and take my knot? Let me breed you one day?”

You whine, deep from your throat. “Yesss. I’ll let you- have as many as you want, alpha. I want to be good for you. Want you to be happy.” You pant, thighs shaking still as he grinds deep and his hand spreads wide until his thumb is pressing against your clit.

“Good girl.” He growls out, twitching inside you. He’s imagined breeding you before, many times, even before knowing you were his omega. Hoping that working with you would cause the armorer to place you together to breed. It was why he let you on his ship. “Fuck, I- you feel so good ‘mega. So fucking tight around my cock.”

Your nails dig into the sheets and you are desperate for him to make you cum. The fire in your belly is burning and sweat beads on your forehead. “Alpha. Please.” You whine, grinding yourself back onto him. “I need - need to cum. It burns.” You almost sob with need.

“It’s okay,” he coos, rubbing your clit as he starts rocking into you again. “Your alpha is going to take care of you. Make sure your little cunt is happy by the time you leave this bed.”

You grind back onto him, his hips still not moving as he rubs your clit, and you practically sob with relief when you cum. Clamping down on his cock, you moan his name, his designation, and soak him. “Yessss.” You hiss, thighs violating shaking as you ride your high.

“Fuck.” He groans, his hands tightening on you as he feels you cum around him. “It’s so good, cyar’ika. My omega.”

You slump into the sheets, the burning dissipating for a moment so you can catch your breath and Din’s fingers dig into your hips. “Alpha. Maker, I need - I want you to knot me. Please. Fuck me hard.” You beg breathlessly.

“Yes, yes, my ‘mega can take it.” He growls proudly. “Take my cock and beg for more.” As he starts to thrust harder, it feels like he’s going to beat the bed through the wall, knocking the headboard against the panel with a loud clang every time he pushes deep.

“I can take it. I want more. Always want more. Please baby. Fuck me. Fuck me harder, Alpha.” You demand, your hands coming out to stop yourself from being squashed against the headboard.

He wants to bite you, to mark you as his even though no one would ever see your marks except him. His secret claim on you under your armor. His hisses out your name and manages to increase his frantic pace. “Fuck, fuck, Dank ferik.”

You whine his name, “Alpha. Oh Maker. You - it’s - oh shit. Shit. Shit.” You wail as you cum again, clamping down on his cock and gushing around him, feeling his knot starting to catch and you know he’s close. “Cum. Cum for me.” You beg breathlessly, reaching back to touch his hand on your hip.

Din collapses on top of you, Pushing you down to the bed, hips never stopping as he drives into you again and again. Fucking you into the bed as if that was his singular focus in life. “Gonna, gonna cum.” He grunts out, warning you. “K-knot you.”

“Do it. Fuck, I need it. Need it, Alpha.” You beg and he pushes deep just as his knot catches, his seed painting your walls with spurt after spurt. You whine in pleasure, feeling satisfied and you tilt your neck. “Make me yours, Din.”

The audible pop of his knot slipping into you releases a feral growl from deep in his chest. Unable to stop himself, his face turns towards your neck and his teeth sink into your scent gland. Marking you as his irrevocably.

You cum again from the pleasure of being tamed and from him knotting you. You sigh into the sheets when Din licks the mark he left on your skin. “I love you.” You confess, “even before I found out you’re my alpha. I’ve always loved you.” You confess with your eyes closed.

Din sighs softly and even though he could not pull away from you because of his knot, he wraps his arms around you to keep you close. “I had hoped the armorer would pair us together.” He confesses quietly. “That's why I let you join my crew.”

He shifts onto his side and you curl back into his chest, “whatever happens…it’s you and me and the kid. Even if we have to leave the covert. I would like to keep you, to keep you safe.” You promise him and he leans in to nuzzle your neck.

“Kar’ta.” He murmurs, feeling like he is complete for the first time since his nature was revealed. His other half is in his arms and he wants nothing more than to keep you there. “Mhi solus tome, mhi solus dar'tome.” He whispers softly, wondering if you will repeat the wedding vows back to him. “Mhi me'dinui an, mhi ba'juri verde.”

You smile and squeeze his forearm. “Mhi solus tome, mhi solus dar'tome. Mhi me'dinui an, mhi ba'juri verde.” You repeat back, turning your head to look at him, “riduur.” You whisper, kissing his jaw, “my riduur.”

“Riduur.” His spouse. You are married to him now, his - both by your nature and by your religion. “I will keep you and the child safe.” He vows, his hand sliding down to your stomach. “And any who follow.”

You kiss his lips softly, smiling against him as you place your hand over his on your stomach. “We will face whatever we need to face together. My riduur. My alpha. And when we are ready, I’ll happily have your children. Maybe we can settle on Navarro. Get a little cottage and live a peaceful life together.” You vocalize the dream you’ve had for years.

“That would be good.” He knows that it might never happen, but he wishes for it. “First we must finish our quest.” He hopes to find the armorer again and have you declared a clan of three. It will take some time, but you have time. Both of you have implants to prevent a child and his knotted cock twitches inside you as he thinks about filling you with his baby.

“Finish the quest.” You agree, “then we have the rest of our lives together. I love you, Din Djarin. My alpha.” You murmur, kissing his jaw again. “Whatever happens, we will face it together as mates. As partners.” You promise, unsure of the road ahead but you will be together, connected as one, and you will ensure the child’s safety. This is the way.

[dreamykira]

One Way or Another Pt. 4 I IN-HO x reader

˗ˏˋSUMMARY ´ˎ˗

╰┈➤ After discovering a secret passageway in In-ho’s suite, the reader makes a daring escape, navigating through hidden corridors and nearly making it out. Will she succeed or will she be dragged back to captivity?

˗ˏˋWARNINGS ´ˎ˗

╰┈➤ in-ho is mean in this one, physical violence against reader, reader gets injured. if i missed any then pls let me know!!!

˗ˏˋAUTHOR'S NOTE ´ˎ˗

╰┈➤ long time no see😅 im sorry guys for just disappearing. im trying to manage school, work and family drama all at once rn. anyways im back (i think). i'll try to write pt. 5 and pt. 6 tonight so i have at least something to post during the week (i don't have any hw for tmrw and im feeling inspired rn). ALSOOOOO big big thank you to @androgynous-lady because she gave me so many good ideas for this part. i could literally call her my co-writer at this point!!!!

word count: 1876

The moment In-ho left, you moved.

Every second alone was a gift, a chance to search, to plot, to find a way out of this gilded cage. You had traced every inch of the suite, memorizing its layout, studying its weaknesses. And yet, until now, there had been no clear exit.

But that music box…

It had always struck you as odd—the way it sat on the same cabinet, untouched yet ever-present, playing that eerie melody whenever In-ho watched the games. You had seen him linger by it, fingers brushing against the wood before turning away, as if it held some secret only he understood.

And maybe it did.

Your heart pounded as you approached the cabinet, running your hands along the edges. It seemed solid at first, but then— A subtle indentation, a shift in the wood where it shouldn’t be.

You pressed against it.

Click.

A panel slid open, revealing a dark, narrow passageway beyond.

Your breath caught.

This was it.

Without hesitation, you slipped inside, closing the panel behind you. The air was thick, stale, the space barely wide enough for you to move comfortably. A faint red emergency light glowed along the floor, leading deeper into the unknown.

You had no idea where this led, but that didn’t matter. Forward was your only option.

✧˚ · .

The tunnel twisted and turned, forcing you to move carefully. Pipes lined the walls, humming with energy, carrying water or air to unseen places. You had to crouch in some areas, the ceiling pressing low, making every breath feel shallow, every movement tense.

Somewhere in the distance, you heard the faint echo of voices—guards, most likely, stationed in the hidden spaces between the walls. You pressed forward, silent as a ghost, ears straining to pick up anything useful.

Then, a metal grate came into view ahead of you.

Cautiously, you knelt and peered through the slats.

Below was a control room, smaller than the one In-ho usually occupied but still filled with monitors, screens flickering with live footage of the games. A single guard sat at a console, his back to you, oblivious to your presence.

Your fingers curled around the grate, an idea forming. If you could drop down, maybe you could take him out, steal his uniform, his keycard—

No. Too risky.

You kept moving.

✧˚ · .

Meanwhile, In-ho returned to the suite.

The moment he stepped inside, he knew something was wrong. The air felt… empty. Still.

His gaze flickered to the couch, where you usually sat. Nothing. The bedroom door—open, untouched.

A slow, cold realization settled in his chest.

You were gone.

In-ho exhaled through his nose, setting his mask down with precise care. Then, he turned sharply, striding toward the nearest intercom panel. His voice was measured, but there was an unmistakable edge to it.

“Pull up the security footages. Now.”

The guards hesitated. “Sir?”

“You heard me,” he said, sharper this time. “Find her.”

A few tense moments passed. Then, one of the guards responded.

“Sir, we have a location.”

In-ho’s jaw clenched. “Where?”

“She’s in the hidden passageways.”

His fingers tightened against the desk. “Don’t intercept her yet. Tell me where she’s headed.”

“Understood.”

He wasn’t going to let them drag you back like some runaway prisoner.

No.

He was going to find you himself.

✧˚ · .

You had no idea how much time had passed before you found the second door. After pushing it open, you were met with a dimly lit hallway.

Heart hammering, you stepped over the threshold, feeling cool tile beneath your socked feet. This wasn’t part of the main complex, at least not the part you had seen before. The walls were industrial, metal panels replacing the pristine luxury of the suite. You had made it somewhere deeper, somewhere real.

And yet, you didn’t have time to marvel. You needed to move.

You hurried down the hall, scanning for signs, exits, anything to tell you where you were. Doors lined the corridor, some marked with cryptic symbols, others left unmarked entirely. You paused near one and pressed your ear against it.

Silence.

Carefully, you pushed it open.

Inside was a storage room—rows of neatly folded staff uniforms, stacks of weapons locked behind glass cases. Your pulse quickened. If you could get a disguise—

A sudden noise made you freeze.

Footsteps.

Someone was coming.

Quickly, you ducked behind a shelving unit, pressing yourself into the shadows. The door swung open, and a pair of guards stepped inside, talking in low voices.

“…Check the west hall. She couldn’t have gotten far.”

Your stomach twisted.

They knew.

You held your breath, heart pounding as they rummaged through supplies, oblivious to your presence just feet away.

Then, a radio crackled to life.

“Sir, we have a situation.”

Your hands clenched into fists.

A pause.

Then—In-ho’s voice, low and calm.

“Stay back. I’ll handle this myself.”

The guards hesitated. “Sir, are you sure—”

“Did I stutter?”

Silence.

Then—“Understood.”

Your blood ran cold.

He was coming for you.

You slipped from your hiding place and ran, no real directions in your mind.

✧˚ · .

You made it farther than you ever thought possible. Past another hallway. Past another set of doors. You were close to at least some kind of an exit—you could feel it.

You turned a corner, breath coming in ragged gasps, your legs burning from the relentless sprint. You had made it so far. Just a little more, and maybe—

A shadow moved in front of you.

Too late.

A gloved hand shot out, grabbing your wrist in a vice grip. Before you could react, a second hand caught your shoulder, twisting you around with brutal force. A gasp tore from your lips as you stumbled, slamming against the cold metal wall.

Your body froze.

It was him.

In-ho.

His mask was gone, revealing his face—dark eyes locked onto yours, his expression unreadable. But something simmered beneath the surface. Something dangerous.

“You really thought you could get away?”

His voice was calm, almost eerily so.

Your heart pounded as you struggled in his grip. “Let me go!”

His fingers dug into your wrist, unrelenting. “No.”

You twisted, trying to wrench yourself free, but his hold only tightened. Panic bubbled in your chest. “You’re hurting me,” you gasped, wincing as his grip turned almost bruising.

In-ho’s jaw clenched, his eyes flashing. “Good.”

Your stomach dropped.

This wasn’t the usual In-ho, the one who tried to reason with you, the one who softened just enough to make you question everything. This was something else entirely.

“You disobeyed me,” he continued, voice still infuriatingly calm, but his grip told a different story. “I told you not to test my patience. And yet, here we are.”

Tears welled in your eyes, a mix of frustration and real pain. “Please—you’re hurting me.”

For a moment, just a second, something flickered in his gaze. But it was gone just as fast, replaced by cold indifference.

“And what did you think would happen?” he muttered. “That I’d let you go? That I’d just let you disappear?” He scoffed, yanking you forward, his strength undeniable.

His words sent a shiver down your spine. You shook your head, your voice breaking. “I didn't—”

“Shut it,” he cut you off, voice sharp now. "I don't want to hear another word from your mouth."

You let out a choked sob as he dragged you back the way you came. Every tug of his grip sent pain shooting up your arm, but he didn’t let go. He didn’t slow down. If anything, your resistance only made him rougher.

“In-ho, please,” you whimpered, barely able to keep up with his pace.

Nothing.

He wasn’t listening.

No—he was listening. He just didn’t care.

Not right now.

By the time you reached the suite, you were gasping, your wrist throbbing, your legs weak. He shoved open the door, hauling you inside with enough force that you tripped face first onto the polished floor.

You turned to him, tears streaming down your face. “Why are you doing this?”

In-ho didn’t answer.

Instead, he dragged you down the hallway, not waiting for you to get up, past the bedroom, past the sitting area, toward a door you had never seen open before.

He unlocked it, shoved it open, and without hesitation, threw you inside.

You crashed forward, rolling over the floor until you heard the door slam behind you. A sharp click followed.

Locked.

Your breath hitched as you turned back, banging your fists against the door. “In-ho! Open the door!”

Silence.

You could hear his breathing on the other side, could imagine him standing there, unmoving, unmoved.

“You don’t get to run from me,” he finally said, voice quiet but firm. “Not anymore.”

Your throat tightened. “I hate you,” you whispered.

A pause.

Then, just before his footsteps faded—

“That’s fine. As long as you’re still here.”

And then, he was gone.

✧˚ · .

The room was cold.

Not just in temperature, but in its very essence—empty, lifeless, void of anything except the dull ache radiating from your wrist. You sat curled in the corner, knees pulled to your chest, your good hand clutching your throbbing wrist, the one that In-ho had so forcefully gripped, against your body. Every pulse of pain sent a fresh wave of nausea through you.

It felt broken. Or at the very least, badly sprained.

You had tried to ignore it at first, tried to breathe through the sharp stabs of discomfort. But the longer you sat there, the more unbearable it became. The cold didn’t help either. The floor was like ice beneath you, and without a blanket or anything to shield yourself, the chill seeped into your bones, making your entire body feel stiff.

You didn’t know how much time had passed when the door finally opened.

A guard stepped in, face unreadable beneath the black mask. He carried a tray of food—if you could even call it that. The same stale, tasteless meal they fed the players during the games. A slab of dry bread, some watery soup, and a plastic fork.

The guard placed the tray down in front of you without a word.

Your stomach clenched. You hadn’t eaten in hours, maybe longer. Hunger gnawed at you, but as you reached out, a sharp pain shot through your wrist. You hissed, drawing your arm back instinctively.

The guard said nothing. Just stood there, watching.

You tried again, using your good hand to grab the fork, but it was awkward, unsteady. The fork slipped from your fingers, clattering against the tray. You clenched your jaw, frustration bubbling in your chest.

The guard didn’t react. Didn’t offer help. Just turned and left, locking the door behind him.

Outside, in the dimly lit hall, he found In-ho waiting. The Front Man stood still, hands clasped behind his back, his mask now back in place.

“How is she?”

The guard hesitated before answering. “She didn’t eat, sir.”

In-ho’s head tilted slightly. “Why?”

“She… struggled to pick up the fork. I believe her wrist may be injured.”

Silence stretched between them.

Then, after a long pause, In-ho spoke.

“Leave it to me.”

tag list: @androgynous-lady @avsarchivez @squidgame-lover001 @plague-cure @skibidirizzzlerrrr @slytherinbackintomyroom @lazybum0

[onlyangel4]

on his radar. karrion kross. final part.

dark!karrion kross x reader

synopsis: as the shiny knew toy transferred from tna the raw locker room are desperate to get to know you, only to find out that you despite your in ring skill outside of work you are rather quiet and reserved. a lot of your new co worker's decided to give you space. but karrion kross craves closeness.

warnings: 18+. smut. exhibition (kinda). unprotected smut (please wrap it up). fingering. kissing. dark themes.

author's note: this is filth

part one // part two

∘•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•················•∘

you didn’t have a match this week.

you were fine with that. more than fine, actually. the phantom ache in your thighs and the deep, slow throb between your legs made you glad for the break. even now, nearly a week later, you could still feel him. like he was living under your skin.

but the second you walked through the back doors of the arena, you knew rest wasn’t in your cards.

because he was already there.

leaning against the far wall of the corridor, hood up, eyes locked on you like he’d been waiting hours. like he knew down to the second when you’d arrive. other wrestlers passed him with wide berths and nervous glances. no one said a word.

karrion didn’t move. not until you got close enough to feel it, that low, simmering hum in your gut. the way his presence made the air tight and charged and unmistakably his.

"you’re not on the card tonight", he said, voice low.

you shrugged. "didn’t stop me from showing up."

he stared. slow and full, taking you in like he was drinking from the sight. your gear was casual, joggers, your merch hoodie, gloves still tugged tight over your hands. the same gloves.

his gloves.

and the moment his eyes dropped to them, you saw it.

that shift. that hunger. that need.

"you wearing them for me?" he asked, like he didn’t already know.

you didn’t answer.

didn’t have to.

because he was already moving, pushing off the wall and crowding into your space until your back hit the nearest locker room door. his hand found your hip. the other came up to your throat, slow and firm, not squeezing, just holding. like he needed to remind himself you were real. here.

"you don’t fight tonight", he murmured. "but that doesn’t mean you don’t belong to me."

you nodded. swallowed. "i know."

he stared down at you, unreadable. then he leaned in, slow, so slow and pressed a kiss just beneath your ear.

"then stay close."

∘•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•················•∘

you were halfway to catering, gloved hands tucked into the pockets of your hoodie, when you heard it.

"guess all it takes to stay on the roster these days is a good pair of kneepads."

the words weren’t meant to carry, but they hit like a slap anyway.

you froze. didn’t turn. didn’t speak. but you knew who said it. grayson waller the guy who used to look through you like you didn’t exist. the guy who only noticed you now because of who walked you to your car. who waited for you by the lockers. who kissed the back of your gloved hand like it was sacred.

you should’ve kept walking.

but your feet were planted, jaw tight.

and then, behind you came a shift in the air. a ripple of silence. something cold and electric that made the whole hallway pause.

karrion had arrived.

you didn’t even have to see him. you felt it, that sudden gravity, that crackling fury like lightning about to strike. a few people scattered. some didn’t even try to hide it. they knew better.

he was next to you in seconds. close enough to feel the heat rolling off him in waves. his eyes locked on waller and didn’t move.

"say that again", karrion dared.

grayson laughed. nervous. "man, i was just kidding. come on. everyone’s talking about-"

"say it. again."

karrion stepped forward.

you saw it then, not just anger, but something deeper. a kind of terrifying calm that only made it worse. he wasn’t shouting. he didn’t need to.

he was claiming.

right there. in front of everyone.

grayson backed up a step. "look, i didn’t mean anything—"

karrion’s hand was around his throat in an instant. not enough to cut off air. just enough to make it real.

"you look at her again, you breathe her name again, you even think about her in the wrong tone" he leaned in, voice pure venom, "and i’ll rip your fucking jaw off. understood?"

there was no answer.

just a nod. wide-eyed. shaking.

karrion let go.

the guy stumbled back, clutching his neck, and disappeared down the hall without another word.

you stood there. still. breath tight in your lungs. and then, slowly karrion turned to you.

"you okay?" he asked, like he hadn’t just threatened permanent damage.

you nodded.

but he stepped closer anyway. hands bracketing your face, gentle this time. thumbs stroking your cheeks. that lethal, beautiful contrast of who he was the chaos, the comfort.

"he won’t ever look at you again", he murmured.

"i don’t care about him."

"you care about me", he said, quiet now. "and that’s why i care. you wear my gloves. you walk through these halls with my scent still on your skin. and anyone who can’t respect that" his gaze burned, "gets taught how."

you leaned into him, breath shaky. "karrion…"

he kissed you then.

right there, in front of anyone left watching. no hiding. no hesitation.

his mouth was soft but firm, claiming you like a promise.

when he pulled back, his hands dropped to yours. fingers curling around the leather of your gloves.

"these mean something now", he said. "to everyone. not just us."

and god help anyone who forgot it.

∘•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•················•∘

the adrenaline wore off slow. like sap. sticky and clinging in the hollows of your limbs.

you hadn't had a match, not tonight but the weight of it still clung to you. karrion had pulled you into the dark backstage corridor after the blow-up earlier. his mouth had been bruising. his hands had left impressions. he didn’t care who saw.

you weren’t even sure you did, anymore.

but now he was gone, called into some production meeting and the quiet crept in.

that’s when rhea found you.

she didn’t say anything at first. just appeared beside you in the hallway, sitting shoulder to shoulder on a cold equipment case like she’d always been there.

you glanced over. she was still in her gear. smudged eyeliner. bruised knuckles. a few strands of hair stuck to the sweat at her temple.

"you good?" she asked, finally. not soft. just real.

you nodded. then hesitated.

"i think so."

rhea didn’t push. she never did. but her eyes moved, from the marks on your neck to the gloves still tight on your hands.

"looks like someone’s been busy."

you gave a huff of a laugh. "you could say that."

she tilted her head. "you okay with it?"

the question cut through the noise. the buzz. the heady pull of something dark and dizzying that hadn’t stopped since you let karrion put his mouth between your thighs and his hands around your throat.

"yeah,” you said quietly. "i’m more than okay."

rhea nodded. like she understood. like she’d been there once, claimed, owned, adored in a way that didn’t ask for permission but gave you everything anyway.

she leaned her elbows on her knees. looked ahead.

"he’s not like the others", she said after a pause. "kross. he doesn’t just want someone next to him. he wants someone with him. that can be… heavy."

you glanced down at your gloved hands. flexed your fingers.

"it is."

"but you’re strong". she said. matter of fact. "i see it. always have.”

you blinked hard. that stung more than it should’ve.

rhea stood, stretched, then tossed you one last look, half smirk, half warmth.

"you ever need to breathe", she added, "you find me. gloves or not."

you nodded again. choked on the quiet gratitude trying to climb up your throat.

then she was gone.

∘•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•················•∘

you were still in the hallway, the scent of sweat and metal thick in the air, when you felt it.

the shift.

that slow-crawling shadow that always preceded him.

you didn’t turn.

not yet.

boots echoed. leather creaked. and then

his voice.

"you spoke to rhea."

not a question. just a fact he already knew.

you finally glanced over your shoulder. he was leaning against the wall like he hadn’t just come from a war council, black shirt clinging to him, hair a little damp, eyes darker than usual.

"she found me" you said, voice steady.

karrion’s gaze dragged over you like a hand. slow. heavy. "she still soft for you?"

you didn’t answer. you didn’t need to.

he pushed off the wall and came to you, close. one gloved hand slid up your throat, not choking, just there. a reminder. a weight.

"she means well", he murmured, thumb brushing your jaw. "but she doesn’t know what you are to me."

"and what’s that?" you asked, low.

his smile was a thing of nightmares. and devotion.

"everything."

you shivered. it wasn’t fear. it was never fear.

he leaned in close, mouth brushing your ear.

"i got you something."

your heart jumped. "what?"

karrion pulled back just enough to look at you and god, the pride in his face could’ve cracked bone.

"you’re facing lyra next week,” he said. "intercontinental title match."

silence.

it hit you like a steel chair.

"what?" you breathed.

"i watched the way they looked at you tonight", he said, his voice sharpening. "the way he spoke to you. they still don’t fucking get it. so i made them understand."

"you got me a title shot?"

he smirked. "i got you what you already earned. all i did was remove the obstacles."

your knees almost buckled.

not because of the opportunity, though it was massive. but because of him. the way he moved through the world like a god of war. and now that power had turned inward, toward you. lifting you higher. locking you closer.

your breath hitched. "why lyra?"

"she’s good" he said. "and you deserve to beat someone good. publicly."

there was something vicious in that. something beautifully cruel. but beneath it, deeper , you felt it. pride. obsession. love, in its most unhinged, glorious form.

you didn’t speak.

you just reached for him. gloved fingers tangling in the collar of his shirt. pulling him down. kissing him like he was the only oxygen you had left.

when you broke the kiss, you whispered against his lips

"i’ll win it for you."

his hands tightened on your waist. possessive. worshipful.

"no", he murmured. "win it for us."

∘•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•················•∘

the following week it was time.

your first promo since putting those gloves on.

the first time the fans were going to see who you really were.

the lights dimmed as your music hit, but it didn’t feel like it used to.

not like fanfare. not like nerves.

now, it felt like an omen.

you stepped onto the ramp slow and deliberate, dressed in black from boots to gloves. no smile. no acknowledgment of the crowd. just a stare sharp enough to draw blood.

the gloves caught the spotlight first, glinting as you lifted the mic to your lips.

you didn’t speak right away.

you let the silence stretch. let it settle into their skin.

and when your voice finally broke through, it was quiet. measured. but lethal.

"i’ve spent the last year breaking myself in half for this place."

your gaze swept the crowd. the camera. the locker room. you knew he was watching you could feel it.

"trying to earn your cheers. trying to play nice. be humble. be grateful."

a humourless laugh left your lips.

"but when i bled, you looked away. when i cracked a rib in that ring, you called it a fluke. when i won… you said i got lucky."

You let the silence return for a breath.

"so now i’m done asking for respect."

you raised your gloved hand. flexed your fingers. made them all see it.

"these gloves were a gift. from the man who showed me that it is okay to be the real me. but they are not just from him they are from pain. from every week i fought like hell and still got told that was not enough"

your voice dropped, like a blade slipping from its sheath.

"you wanna know what changed?"

another pause.

"i stopped pretending to be one of you."

the crowd reacted like you’d slapped them a mix of cheers, boos, stunned silence. you welcomed it all.

"lyra", you said, your eyes dark and still. "next week you’re going to walk into that ring thinking you’ve got another title defence."

"you’re wrong."

the camera zoomed in, tight on your face.

"you’ve got a reckoning."

a final beat.

"and when you’re laid out, staring at those lights with nothing left in your lungs but the sound of my name… i want you to remember one thing."

you lifted the mic one last time.

"i didn’t become a monster because of kross. i became one because none of you gave me another choice."

you dropped the mic. the thud echoed behind you like a closing door.

and as you walked back up the ramp, you didn’t look back once.

∘•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•················•∘

the night before the match the training ring was silent, save for the sound of your breathing and the echo of your boots hitting the mat.

you’d been at it for nearly an hour , drills, holds, transitions, full-sequence counters. karrion pushed you harder than anyone else ever had, and he never apologised for it.

he circled you now like a predator at rest, his shirt long discarded, sweat slicking the lines of muscle down his chest and stomach. the black gloves never left his hands.

"you’re slow on the drop", he said, voice low, calm. "again."

you didn’t argue.

you came at him, hips low, centre of gravity tight but he still reversed you like it was nothing. one second, you were lunging the next, he’d caught you, spun you, and slammed you down onto the mat beneath him.

the air left your lungs in a grunt.

he straddled you, knees pinning your thighs, and leaned over, his face inches from yours.

"too easy", he muttered.

"then make it harder", you shot back.

that grin spread across his face. feral and dark.

"careful what you wish for."

you should’ve known.

his hand, gloved, hot. slid up your torso. over your ribs. between your breasts. not rough. not yet. just claiming.

you didn’t stop him.

didn’t want to.

"you’re already wrecked", he whispered, lips brushing your jaw, "and we haven’t even gotten started."

you moaned before you could stop yourself. a quiet, wrecked sound that made his eyes blaze.

he crushed his mouth to yours.

the kiss was brutal. devouring. all teeth and heat and breath.

you clawed at his back, gloves scraping down muscle. he groaned into your mouth and rocked against you, hips grinding into the apex of your thighs, and suddenly you didn’t care about the bruises. about the soreness. about anything but him.

he pulled back, breathing hard, dragging your top up over your chest in one rough tug. your nipples peaked in the cool air, and he didn’t hesitate he just bent down and took one into his mouth, sucking hard enough to bruise. his gloved hand rolled over the other, slow and possessive.

"karrion", you gasped, arching up into him.

"shut up", he growled. "you don’t talk. you take it."

you did.

every bite of his teeth. every grind of his hips. every rough drag of his tongue across your skin like he was licking salt from a wound. you were shaking under him, writhing, completely at his mercy.

his hand went to your gear next he yanked it down, tore the seam.

"always in the way", he muttered.

you were already soaked.

and he noticed.

he slipped two fingers through your folds and groaned like it physically hurt him. "fuck, baby. always so ready for me."

you spread your thighs wider without thinking. offering. begging.

"you know what happens when you get like this", he said, voice dark.

you nodded.

he shoved his fingers into you, deep, and watched your face the whole time. he loved the way you fell apart, the way your body lost all control. he fucked you with his fingers like he was memorizing it curling, pressing, rubbing that spot until your thighs were trembling.

but he didn’t let you come.

not yet.

instead, he pulled back, unbuckled his pants, and lined himself up.

he slid in deep and slow, all the way to the hilt and stayed there, forehead pressed to yours.

"you feel that?" he whispered. "how perfect this is? how right?"

you nodded, dizzy from it.

then he started to move.

it was feral. fast. he fucked you like he was staking a claim. like this ring, this place, your body all of it belonged to him. and it did. you were nothing but his at this point.

your hands clawed at his shoulders, your body a mess of moans and curses, and he ate up every sound.

"come for me", he growled. "let them hear you."

you did.

loud. shaking. crying his name.

he came a second later, deep, possessive, teeth clenched and body locked over yours.

when it was over, he didn’t move. just buried his face in your neck and breathed you in.

you stayed tangled, a mess of sweat and bruises and something much, much deeper.

finally, he whispered against your skin, voice raw.

"you’re going to destroy her."

And god help lyra valkyria because you believed it.

∘•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•················•∘

the hallway was chaos, production crew moving like clockwork, lights pulsing, voices buzzing through radios. but the moment karrion stepped into your space, the noise died.

it always did.

he found you tucked just off gorilla, gear on, gloves tight, eyes locked on the curtain. focused. composed. almost.

he didn’t say anything at first. just looked.

and you felt it, the way his presence sank into your skin like heat, like gravity. the way it pulled at the version of you still trying to play by the rules.

"don’t do that", he said lowly, stepping close.

your jaw flexed. "do what?"

"hide." his hand came up, cupping your jaw. firm. reverent. "don’t play small. don’t pretend to be palatable for them."

his thumb brushed over your lower lip. a slow drag. "they want a champion. give them a goddamn reckoning."

your breath caught. his touch burned not just on your skin, but deeper. in the bone. in the blood.

"you remember who you are?" he murmured.

you nodded.

"say it."

"i'm yours."

a groan left him. dark and broken. he pressed his forehead to yours, both hands gripping your face like he needed to hold you together and tear you apart at once.

"they don't deserve to watch you become what i already know you are", he whispered. "but they will.”

you kissed him, brutal, desperate and he drank it like it was his last salvation.

then, voice rough, lips still touching yours, "go ruin her. and don’t fucking look back."

∘•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•················•∘

the lights hit white-hot as your music blared through the arena.

you didn’t blink.

didn’t smile.

didn’t play to the crowd.

you walked gloves on, eyes locked, the storm behind them simmering. every step was deliberate. every breath controlled.

and behind the curtain, you felt him.

watching. waiting. burning.

when you entered the ring, lyra was already there, cool and focused, stretching out her shoulders, jaw tight. you didn’t blame her. she’d seen the way your matches had changed. what you’d become.

but she didn’t know the half of it.

the bell rang.

and you exploded.

first hit, a vicious forearm that snapped her head back, followed by a brutal spinebuster that shook the mat. the crowd roared, but it was all static behind the rush of blood in your ears.

lyra fought back hard. she was technical. clean. sharp with her strikes, almost surgical. she caught you with a roundhouse to the ribs that made you stumble, then followed up with a dropkick that had you in the corner.

you grinned.

because pain didn’t shake you anymore. not since him.

she came at you again, flying knee, and you caught her. mid-air. one arm around her waist, the other slamming into the back of her knee to drop her hard. you didn’t let her breathe. mounted strikes. sharp elbows. fast, mean.

the crowd was on their feet, split between awe and disbelief.

lyra rolled you, a desperation counter but you reversed it just as fast. you had her arm. twisted. contorted.

and you paused.

just long enough for your eyes to find the hard cam.

just long enough for karrion to see.

then you snapped her down into a modified ddt, transitioned clean into your finisher, and pinned her in a flash.

one. two. three.

the bell rang.

the crowd roared, but it all sounded distant, like it was happening behind glass.

you stood in the centre of the ring, chest heaving, every nerve still lit up from the fight. your gloves were smeared with sweat, maybe blood, and your jaw ached from the last shot lyra had landed. but none of it mattered.

because the ref was holding up the title.

your title.

the intercontinental championship gleamed under the lights, polished silver and leather, heavy with history.

you stared at it like it wasn’t real.

and then you reached out and took it.

your hands shook. just for a second. but once the leather met your palms, that tremble turned to steel. you clutched the belt to your chest like it was a heartbeat, like it had always belonged to you and the world was just now catching up.

the crowd chanted your name.

and for once, you heard it.

you tilted your head back and let it wash over you, eyes fluttering shut, not with peace, but with power.

everything you’d buried. everything you’d burned. it had all led here.

you looked down at the belt again, then slowly sank to your knees in the middle of the ring, the title in your lap, gloved hands pressed flat to it.

the camera zoomed in, catching your smirk. that knowing, dangerous curve of your mouth that said this wasn’t the end.

it was the beginning.

you rose back to your feet slowly, lifting the title high above your head with one hand, the other still balled into a gloved fist. the lights painted you in gold, in glory, in fire.

and for a moment, the world stopped spinning.

you weren’t just a contender anymore.

you were the champion.

his champion.

∘•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•················•∘

the second you stepped through gorilla, the noise of the arena muffled behind thick curtains, he was there.

he was waiting in the shadows like he always did, still in his gear, black shirt clinging to him, hair damp, those eyes locked on you like you were the only thing in the world worth watching.

your chest was still rising and falling like you were in the ring. like the match hadn’t ended. like your pulse hadn’t slowed since you pinned lyra to the mat.

the intercontinental championship was clutched to your side, your glove pressed tight to the leather. you didn’t know if you were holding it or if it was holding you.

he crossed the space between you in two strides.

ripped the title from your grip — not to take it, not to claim it, but to look at it. hold it up like it was holy. his gaze flicked from the plate to your face, then back again, like he couldn’t decide which one made his blood burn hotter.

"you did it", he said, voice like gravel and smoke.

your breath caught.

"i told you i would.”

he grinned, slow and wicked, and before you could brace for it, he grabbed the back of your neck and kissed you.

hard. deep. desperate.

it wasn’t celebration. it was devotion.

when he finally broke the kiss, his forehead stayed pressed to yours, breath ragged, thumb brushing the edge of your jaw like he needed the reassurance that you were still real.

"look at you", he rasped. "they’re all gonna kneel now."

You smirked. "just like you?"

his eyes darkened.

"no", he murmured, lips ghosting yours. "not like me. i don’t kneel. i worship."

his hand slid to the belt slung over your shoulder. tightened there.

"this is just the beginning", he said. "and i'm going to make sure they all remember how it started."

with you.

with him.

with the war you were about to wage together.

you didn’t need fireworks or speeches or the roar of the crowd.

you had him. his mouth on yours. his hand fisted in your gear. and the taste of victory between your teeth.

the title was yours.

but you?

you belonged to him.

and karrion never lost what belonged to him.

[ryewwww]

Gotta say, My husband is a truck driver (retired now, since we got a little boy on the way—probably from all the truck sex), and you couldn’t have nailed what it’s like having sex in a Semi-truck/truck stop better. Would absolutely love to read more of your Trucker!Ghost! Kudos to you!

LOL congratulations!!!

Writing truck driver!Simon was a little hard because I literally had to search up the inside of a truck and just…picture how to do it.

And looking at photos inside the latest trucks—they’re actually sooo nice?!?!! Microwaves, fridge, TVs that hook up to a console. It’s like a mini hotel in the back of your truck!!!

After a long day of driving, you and Simon get some junk food from the truck stop, or maybe walk to the nearest fast food place. You hurry back, stuff your face with fries and once you’re finished, he’s stuffing you😩

For Simon, he lovessss when you tag along. Usually, he does these trips alone, in literal silence. Sometimes he’ll play like Metallica or smth but a lot of the time, it’ll just be him and the sound of his truck rumbling. And he’d never get bored because he was so used to this shit back in the military.

But now, with you in the picture, you’re talking his ear off. You’ll go on and on and on about whatever the fuck, and for a moment when you stop talking, he looks over and sees you chugging some water because your throat went dry LOL.

Eventually, you get tired of talking and Simon takes over. You love listening to his military stories on the road. He’s had some crazy ones and when you shoot him a look of concern, “I’m still breathing, aren’t I?”

When you see a different kind of semi truck or a different kind of trailer, or an oversized load, you ask sooo many questions.

“Si, why does the trailer look like that?”

“Oh my god, how did they get that big machine on there?”

“Are they allowed to do that?”

“What even is that thing?”

You’re full of questions but Simon is more than happy to answer. And thanks to him, you’ve learned so much. Now you know that trucks need lots of space to turn (left or right) so you’re more mindful about that. You’ve heard Simon swear one too many times when a person crosses the stop line because it makes it impossible for him to turn without hitting the other car.

Their relationship is not just sex, but genuinely so sweet. Simon is so so happy that he has a co-pilot to accompany him on these long trips🥹 All his life he’s been alone, and constantly working. Though, he could stop working, his retirement from the military would take care of him no doubt, but being all by himself made him depressed as fuck. So he talked to price about truck driving, I mean he had his class 1 so why not right? And he’s so grateful he did, otherwise he would have never met you.

[whorangi1104]

If Jor-El was always there with the milk

Inspired by this tiktok about a Tumblr post… also because the comments are begging me: https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZP8Nojvct/

TW: description of a torture method

Everybody knows the story of how Superman crashed to earth after the destruction of his home planet, but not everyone knows of his father who arrived with him.

Jor-El, who had somehow gotten his clothes hooked onto some part of the capsule his baby was in when they fired it, was honestly surprised he survived the deep space for so long without losing his son's capsule, although weakened somewhat. It seemed that they crashed on a lesser developed planet, as the beings here were still living in small structures built of basic natural materials. With his son, Jor-El knocked on the door of the nearest settlement for help.

Pa Kent was quite surprised, to put it lightly, when he answered the door to a strange man wearing clothes that seemed quite out of place and carrying a sort of carrier containing- is that a baby? And it turns out they were aliens, and none of them could understand the other, but he knew wasn't hallucinating when the man demonstrated boiling a pot of water with his lasers for eyes. But he was taught to do the right thing and trusts people (or aliens) until they give him a reason not to, so he let them stay. He told the neighbors they were distant relatives who were tired of city life, and because they coincidentally needed a helping hand on the farm. Within a short time, they'd learned the language, became quite a help with their speed and strength, and were delightful company. Although Pa Kent still worried his wife might gravitate towards this “Jor-El”, for he was far better looking, but semi-co-parenting the adorable baby was worth it.

Jor-El quite enjoyed this simple life, and the years passed quick. He had started courting both humans, though he could not gift them his wealth, he helped whenever he could. He learned earth customs, and apparently what he thought was courting wasn't how they did it, but oh well. He would still teach he son the ways of his roots, and keep the customs of suitors.

Clark grew up like any other boy, except for the time he almost burnt down the barn, froze the lake, drifted into the clouds as a baby… you get it. His biological father taught him to control these things so he could blow on his food without making an iced sundae out of his soup, but it was Ma and Pa Kent who helped him with his school work, tucked him in most nights, and read him stories of snow white and little red riding hood. Jor-El mostly taught him a Kryptonian curriculum, and was the only one he could really let loose playing catch with without the worry of accidentally hurting him. It was kinda like having divorced parents, if the divorced parents got along just fine and still lived together, and one of them built an extension to the house that tripled its size to do experiments in (scientist on any planet). Sometimes Clark would catch his Father staring at a sketch of a woman and look up into the stars, but it was a mutual agreement not to speak of her (after Clark grew out of his ‘why’ phase anyway).

Clark grew up, had his farewell, moved to Metropolis, you know the story. Sometimes Jor-El would visit him, check up on his Kryptonian, though Clark knew he could hear him just fine across the country. Clark eventually started dating Bruce Wayne after interviewing him. Then there was some confusing things where Bruce kissed Superman, (that's still him, but he didn't think Bruce was really smart enough to figure that out at the time,) then BATMAN of all people kissed him, and they had a good laugh about how Bruce thought they both knew each other's identities, and Clark was a mess of confusion during it all. But this isn't about superbat interactions in the wild, plenty of other fanfics for that, this is about Jor-El about to have way too many adopted orphaned grandkids. So then came the time for Bruce to meet Clark's parents.

Meeting the Kent's? They were charmed, happy that Clark found someone financially stable and made him happy. The regular human stuff. Mr.El on the other hand?

Jor-El looked down at the man in a suit standing in front of him. He had never really listened in on his son's personal life, as a respectful Kryptonian, but this one seemed a bit… dim. Famously a playboy bimbo, honestly. This was the guy Kal-El was into? Well if Kal thinks he can pass the test, then so be it.

Bruce looked up at the imposing figure in front of him, tall as a mountain, calm as a river, arms crossed with a glare that could shake a lesser man. Bruce was no lesser man, but with his Brucie act, Jor-El probably thinks that he was just too stupid to be intimidated.

“So, Jake, was it?”

“Jor, of the house of El.”

The alien's glare deepened, while Bruce rivaled him with a smile.

“Potato patata, pleased to meet you sir.”

“Oh no, the pleasure is all mine.”

“Sarcasm, glad to see our species aren't so different.”

“You will need to complete the courting ritual to have my son.”

“I was thinking of breaking the ice a little, but straight to the point, a very efficient man I see. Could I interest you with a job at Wayne Enterprises?”

Jor-El ignored the job offer and switched to Kryptonian, which Clark sighed and translated, although Bruce had already learned the language and had surgery to implant an invention of his in his vocal cords to physically be able to pronounce the words that would be impossible for a normal human.

“He says the suitor may pick any activity as long as the rules are fair. If they fail to win, the parent can,— dad, I'm not translating that.”

Bruce understood it of course, giving a thoughtful “Hn.” in response. These Kryptonian rituals were certainly high stakes, and he certainly doesn't look forward to being strung up with barbed wire and left to marinate in a gas chamber for however long it would take for Clark to break through a bulletproof window with blue kryptonite strapped to his back. A Kryptonian might survive that, but certainly not mortal Bruce Wayne without his batsuit.

He knows what he has to do.

“What do you know, a royal flush!”

Batman can see Jor-El seething in the corner as this ditzy little human took the last of Clark's poker chips, an utter and undeniable victory. Bruce flashes the Man of Titanium- his new nickname- a signature Brucie smile, watching with glee as big, bright, and angry gave him a look that almost rivaled his batglare.

“...Did you just win Clark in a game of poker?”

“I also won an apple pie. The infamous Kent pie, try not to get too jealous when I take both of my hot, steamy, homegrown prizes home.”

Clark buries his head in his hands, but Bruce can feel his smile and the heat radiating off of him.

“Øh, åñd ßy thê wãy, try çœlîñg dòwñ ā bìt wíll yā? Rèd īßñ’t rælly yøúr çōlòr. Î prëfér Kål ïñ ìt mœrè.”

Bruce smirked at the brief flash of surprise on the older Kryptonian’s face at the use of his planet’s language, pulling Clark with his apple pie out the door before he can respond.

Ma Kent is cackling in the background :)

[loko4koko]

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ Bokuto Koutarou x f!reader x Miya Atsumu ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

>fanart_credit (l->r): kurolah, __kiyomaru

MDNI 18+

>word_count: 1530

>contents: biting, brief sweat/armpit fetish, panty stealing/used panty fetish, bokuto and atsumu masturbate in the same room (gay tendencies), non-consensual photo/videography, sharing of said non-consensual images, voyeurism, masturbation (m! and f!receiving), mentions of squirting, non-explicit cunnilingus, multiple orgasms (f!receiving), double penetration in 2 holes, fingering, anal (f!receiving), creampies, mentions of bo and tsum sucking each other off 😋

roommates!bokuto and atsumu, who are filthy little devils- not in measure of cleanliness (usually) but in depravity. they’re the textbook definition of perverted and you, their precious little roomie, are the main target of their lewd and lascivious behavior.

roommates!bokuto and atsumu, who are way too handsy- they poke and prod at you, they wrestle you down to the nearest surface and tickle you until you cry laughing. they aren’t above biting, either- quick to hold you down and bite the soft skin of your thighs, hips, and belly. not their faults you’re so much smaller and weaker than they are, not their faults you make it so easy. it doesn’t even stop in public; the last time you’d gone shopping atsumu took your bags in what you’d thought was a sweet gesture, only for bokuto to swoop in and pick you up, carrying you over his shoulder with his hand squeezing at your ass.

roommates!bokuto and atsumu, who practically live at the gym and not with you. and god, they’re so gross sometimes—they love to suffocate you between them as soon as they come home from a rigorous workout, your face pressed up into their sweaty, muscular pecs. it’s even worse when atsumu decides he wants to play a mean prank, wrapping himself around you with a wicked grin and sticking your face into his damp armpit, the smell of his sweat and deodorant co-mingling in your nostrils. you hate that you kind of like it, but you’d never tell them that.

roommates!bokuto and atsumu, who take up most of the space on the couch during movie nights. their thighs are huge—pounds of muscle that are definitely bigger than your head—so you usually end up on someone’s lap. they’ll fight over you and who you get to sit on; atsumu will get all mean and bokuto will get all pouty when they think you’ve been spending too much time with the other. you try to compromise by lying across both of their laps and they’re satisfied, smiling stupidly as atsumu pets your head and bokuto smooths his hands across your thigh.

roommates!bokuto and atsumu, who, despite fighting over you, love to get off with your panties. they work together like bandits, one—usually atsumu—keeping you in conversation with a story he pulled out of his ass while the other disappears to your room, grinning as he hits the x that marks the spot: your dirty laundry. he knows he’s struck gold when what he wants is right on top of the pile. it’s a thong, a real cute one with little cherries all over it- but that’s not important. what is important is that it’s the one you’d just worn to the gym.

roommates!bokuto and atsumu, who hide out in atsumu’s room late after you’ve gone to sleep. they’ll sit across from each other, atsumu on his bed and bokuto on the chair, tossing the soiled pair of panties back and forth as they jerk off together. they pant and hiss, wet slaps of their fists hitting their heavy balls and beefy thighs. they’re unabashed- eyes on each other as they lift the thong to their faces in tandem, cursing as they thumb at the drooling slits of their cocks. they both cum so hard that night- rippling abs painted with milky white lines as their chests heave; boyish, lustful and adrenaline-laced grins on their faces.

roommates!bokuto and atsumu, who trade upskirts and pics of your ass that they take throughout each day. they know it’s wrong and that they shouldn’t, but they can’t help it! seeing a photo of your perky little ass peeking out from under your big t-shirt (bokuto notices it’s actually his shirt; makes him tingle with possessiveness) as you nap on your bed just gets them so hard, they have to keep taking more for their collection. it’s not like they let anyone else see- it’s just that if atsumu walks past your room while your bent over trying to get something that rolled under your bed, he’s gonna quietly pull his phone out and snap a few photos. you’ve given him the perfect view of your panty-clad pussy and ass, who would he be to not take advantage of it? and what kind of man would he be if he didn’t share those delicious images with his best friend-slash-roommate?

roommates!bokuto and atsumu, who take you to the gym with them so they can “teach” you how to use the equipment. they show you how to deadlift and how to work different muscles and how to engage your core- all too convenient excuses to press themselves up on you, broad and solid and hard against your back, and to get their hands all over you in your tight little workout outfit. and when they offer to help you stretch? well, they’re just being good friends, of course! bokuto’s got you on your back with your leg stretched so far up that your knee is touching your shoulder and he’s shushing your little whines of exertion, telling you he needs to “stretch ya nice ‘n deep, juuust like that.” it has you a little flustered and atsumu a lot jealous, eyes narrowed at the two of you and the compromising position his counterpart has you in. despite that feeling, he can’t deny the fact that his cock is stiffening up in his loose sweatpants.

roommate!atsumu, who has his ear against the wall when he hears what sounds like moaning coming from your room one late night when he can’t sleep. he’s right, it is moaning- it’s you moaning. he feels his cock stiffening up in his boxers, reaching down to palm and squeeze at himself as he imagines how you touch your own body. are you using your fingers, or a dildo? are you lying on your back, or humping into a pillow? he groans at the thought of you doing any of those things. on the other side of the hall in roommate!bokuto’s room, said man is in a similar situation. he’s got his lip between his teeth as he fucks into a fleshlight, eyes closed as he pretends it’s your hot little pussy that his cock is twitching inside of instead.

roommates!bokuto and atsumu, who would rather be dead than let some lowlife loser get into your pants. you don’t even bother trying to hookup with people anymore, deeming it a useless endeavor after the first several times that your roommates scared away the people you’d brought over. but they couldn’t care less. you’re theirs, whether you know it or not. you don’t need dick from some tinder guy who probably won’t even eat your pussy or make you cum until you’re sobbing. you need bokuto and atsumu. they can guarantee that they’ll have you in tears, screaming their names as you drench them and yourselves in yet another spray of squirt from your battered cunt.

roommates!bokuto and atsumu, who just cant wait any longer. they box you in after a movie, your back pressed into the wall as they murmur to you how bad they want you and how good they’ll treat you. it’s atsumu that can’t keep his hands to himself, pulling you against the hard plane of his chest as he holds your hips and does his best to convince you. he keeps you in place when bokuto kneels to yank your shorts down your thighs, pulling one of your legs out and throwing it over his shoulder. he wastes no time, tongue digging in like he’d just uncovered a 5-course meal. atsumu keeps you steady as you cry out for them, muttering “see? what’d we tell ya, baby? never gonna need those assholes again- not when ya got us” into your ear.

roommates!bokuto and atsumu, who bend and contort you into so many positions as they claim you. the strength and stamina of the two is overwhelming, staving off their own orgasms while they make you cum upwards of 4 times. they stretch your pussy so wide, and when they think they’ve fucked their shapes into you enough for now, they do the same to your asshole. it’s agonizing- how gentle they are, that is. they’re so slow and careful as they prep you, taking turns using their fingers to loosen the tight ring of muscle and when you’re finally ready, your cute little hole gaped and winking at them, they take you- one at a time, over and over.

roommates!bokuto and atsumu, who don’t fight over you anymore. they’re good at sharing you- they switch off on who gets to fuck your pussy and who gets to fuck your ass. and there’s nothing to be jealous about either, ‘cause whoever gets to fuck your pussy gets your cum sucked off of their cock by the other, so it’s a win-win for both of them. instead they focus their boundless energy into making you feel good every day—after all, if they keep your pussy wet and sore and stuffed full of cum then you won’t be looking for anyone else, right?

>authors_note: hey you attract what you fear right?

>ahhhh i’m so scared of bokuto and atsumu railing me while they kiss each other ahhhhh

>thank you for reading ♡︎

>masterlist.exe

>send a request here!

© loko4koko 2024

[star-suh]

DJ

Lee Jeno x Male Reader

cw: angst attempt, fluff-ish smut, top jeno, established relationship, reconciliation sex, rimjob, blowjob, cockwarming.

—

y/n and jeno were a happy couple, days filled with smiles, hugs and kisses here and there. they were a perfect couple in the eyes of everyone around them. but that changed when jeno started to work as a dj, y/n's nights are colder now, having to eat cold food for dinner while waiting for his man to arrive, even sometimes y/n woke up sleeping on the table. 

“it's so tiring” murmured a sad y/n playing with his fingers while sitting on the couch. it's 3:33 am and it seems that jeno is not going to arrive any time soon so the guy decided to go to sleep. “morning” greeted y/n to his co-worker in the cafe “good morning y/n. want a coffee?” asked jaemin handing the cup with hot liquid to him “thank you” is the only thing he says.

jaemin is concerned about y/n he was a happy and bubbly guy but now he's like just a human shell doing things because he has to. “are you ok y/n?. you've been so cold and distant lately” he pats the other guy's back “you know, you can always count on me, right?” y/n just nodded… “it's just that i feel so tired jae… i've been trying to fix my relationship with jeno, i know he's just working but .. it feels like he's not there anymore” he sighs “i just want things to go back to the way they were before” tears starting to pool in his eyes “when i'm home he's not. dinners were the time where we connected more, we talked about ourselves and how our days were but not anymore, it was over in the blink of an eye…” jaemin hugged and comforted y/n “i’m so sorry y/n, i’m sure that you two gonna have the opportunity to talk soon and can fix this inconvenience”, “i hope so” y/n wipes his tears when the doorbell rang, a pair of girls entering.

“good afternoon, what are you going to order ladies?” jaemin took the girls' orders and went to prepare them. “did you hear there's a party tonight hosted by jackson wang?” the blonde girl tells to her friend who make a surprised face “and hot dj jeno is gonna be there too, hopefully i can sleep with him tonight” the two girls screamed and laughed while y/n listened to the conversation with a sad expression.. what if jeno doesn't need him anymore because other people can give him better things than him? “i must be overthinking” he murmured.

“goodbye jaemin” y/n waved his hand and walked away.  he unlocked his phone and searched about that party, it wasn't that hard, apparently that jackson guy is known for his eccentric parties. y/n took a taxi and went there to try to talk to jeno.

y/n was beyond surprised by the party, it was a very large mansion with beautiful gardens and colorful neon lights, y/n walked the cobbled road looking for the shirtless dj and there he was. for the first time in a while a smile appeared on y/n's face. watching how jeno was having fun made him happy too but that happiness was soon shattered by that blonde girl from before who kissed jeno.

the pretty smile dropped quickly, he can't believe what he is seeing, the love of his life kissing another person… confused he just turn around and sat on the nearest chair, failing to see how jeno pushed the girl with an annoyed expression. “please get out of my space, i have a boyfriend and i love him” were the words that came out of jeno's mouth, the girl then leaves the dj cabin with her friend.

hours have passed and y/n was emptying the liquor bottles on his table now he's getting ready to leave walking towards the exit. jeno left the cabin to go to the bathroom stumbling with an acquaintance, the love of his life. “y/n!! wha-.. what are you doing here?” the drunk guy turned around making eye contact with the taller guy “j-jeno”. it's like time around them has paused, tears started to stream down y/n's pretty eyes. jeno just hugged him, both enjoying the warm sensation of their bodies together, the warm that they both missed.

“i.. i'm so sorry y/n” said jeno. both were sitting in the bed in one of the rooms. y/n told jeno about his feelings and how he thinks jeno does not love him anymore. “that's not true y/nnie.. i really love you, you are.. you are so precious to me” he grabbed the smaller guy’s hands and put them on top of his heart “i got too immersed in my work that i didn't realize that i was leaving you aside. i'm so sorry baby you deserve so much better than this” he added.

“i understand if you want to leave me. i don't want to let you go but i was a completely asshole with you” he kissed y/n's forehead and hugged him tightly. “it's ok jeno. i’m happy that we were able to talk and work things out, this is one of the reasons why i love you." y/n commented making jeno smile. “god you're so fucking cute” jeno throws y/n onto the bed and sits on top of him, starting to kissing his neck. “i think i owe you an apology and i’m going to do it by showing how much i love you." the dj started to leave kisses everywhere. “hold on hold on.. what about the your job?” asked y/n. “don’t worry there's someone there to replace me” the older whispered.

slowly jeno discarded y/n’s clothes, making sure to always tell him how beautiful he is. mouths clashed in a desperate needy kiss, it's been a long time since they felt each other. jeno's touch leaving a burning sensation on y/n's body “you make me feel so good jeno”. “is that so? i'm about to make you feel even better then” he laughs burying his face in y/n's ass to eat his hole “hmm tasty”...

y/n started to give a blowjob to jeno while the latter plays with his tight hole “i missed this so much” a string of saliva connecting jeno's mouth to the other's ass. slowly the top introduced all his cock in the bottom's ass “so fucking tight for me” growled the taller. both make eye contact while jeno thrusted slowly, he was appreciating y/n's features being highlighted by the neon lights of the party, that perfect face, those pretty eyes, fuck such a cute guy “like what you see mr. dj?” mocked y/n. “shut up” jeno responded kissing him.

they spend the whole night fucking, they haven't done it for a long time so it worked both as a way to let out all that repressed sexual energy and as a way to reconcile. “let's cum together baby” said y/n and jeno immediately pull out and grabbed both cocks in his hands, jerking off both at the same time “fuckk~ give me that cum” grunted y/n feeling jeno's calloused hands doing friction against his cock “i'm gonna cum” a feral moan leaving jeno's mouth while jets of warm cum came out of the tip of his cock landing on y/n's face and torso while y/n's landed on jeno's torso as well.

fireworks exploded outside in front of the room's window, lighting up the room in bright pretty colors. the happy couple watching them lying on the bed in a spoon position with jeno being the big spoon so y/n can cockwarm him “i love you so much y/n.. let's be happy from now on” jeno hugged y/n tightly smooching his neck making the other giggle “i love you so much too jeno. you're the best thing that happened to me”. tired after all the sex they both just fell asleep until late in the morning when they woke up. “let's go home and eat something. i'm gonna cook” jeno says, squeezing y/n's cheek and kissing it “ok let's go” y/n replied while they walked out of the mansion holding hands.

[frogsinflannel]

WIP Wednesday

-nobody tagged me, but I saw several "consider yourself tagged" so I'm co-opting one of those. don't judge me.

untitled re-established bucktommy snippet feat. eddie

“I just want something to… to show him I’m serious, you know?  Like that this time we’re going to do things right.”

Eddie grunts, out of frame, and then pops up and wipes his forehead, a ring of tape around his wrist like a bracelet.  “Buck, isn’t he the one who broke up with you before?  You had to take him back.  And I know I’ve been teasing you about it, but.”  He shrugs his stupid bare shoulders, wearing one of his stupid muscle tanks.  Buck thinks, not for the first time, that it’s a shame Eddie’s so goddamn terrible with relationships; he could probably pull if he tried.  “I’m kind of glad that he groveled.”

Buck looks down, tries to hide his smile with a hand over his mouth.  “He didn’t… he didn’t grovel.”

“A little bit.”  Eddie’s nose wrinkles and he holds up his thumb and forefinger, almost no space between them.  “He groveled a little bit, and honestly, man?  You deserved it.”

“Well.”  Buck blows a quick stream of air.  “A-anyway, Eddie.  I just.  I want to do this right.”  He makes an emphatic motion with his hands, cutting through the air in front of him.  “I want to be intentional.”

“You could try talking to him,” Eddie suggests.  He has one eyebrow lifted, a challenge, like he thinks Buck’s not going to talk to his own boyfriend.

“We talk,” Buck says.  He’s not being defensive, either, he’s cutting Eddie off at the pass on that one.  “We talk a lot.”

“Yeah,” Eddie says, “when you’re not busy doing other things.”

Buck thinks for a moment about trying to argue the point, but Eddie’s right.  He shrugs, instead, and lets his face split into a cocky grin.

Eddie laughs. “Okay, calm down there, big guy. Keep it in your pants. And if just telling him doesn’t work—“ Buck scoffs but Eddie ignores him. “I’m sure you’ll come up with something.”  He takes a deep breath and looks off to the side.  He’s in the living room of his rental and it’s a mess, with his belongings scattered around and boxes everywhere.  Buck’s been talking to him while he’s been packing.  Soon, he and Chris are coming back to LA and Buck can’t wait.  Eddie grabs a baseball cap from the floor, inspects it, then tosses it into the nearest box.  “You know,” he says, groaning as he stretches out to reach something Buck can’t see, “maybe you could do something kind of special for an anniversary.  Take him out, get him to take you out, just.  Do something to mark the occasion.”

“I don’t know,” Buck says.  He watches Eddie pick up a stack of magazines and then throw them in a box, too.  “You don’t think it would send the wrong message?”

“I think it would say ‘hey, I’m happy to be with you, I think that’s worth celebrating, I want to mark this date to celebrate in the future’--which kind of seems like the right message to me.”

It’s not a bad idea, and Buck mulls it over.  Eddie packs up another box as they talk, and then finally tapes it up and gets off the call so he can go to his parents’ house for dinner with them and Chris.  An anniversary could be good.  Maybe.  Though their last anniversary dinner was kind of a disaster and Buck doesn’t want any kind of repeat of that.  Maybe eating at one of their places instead of going out.

About twenty minutes after they hang up, his phone pings with a text from Eddie.

>>>still think the anniversary idea is a good one but instead of going out i thought of something better. Tell tommy this is what you want:

There’s a few seconds delay and then Eddie sends a link.  Buck taps it and an Etsy page opens with a listing for a bandana and a silver tag that both say “It’s my gotcha day!  YOUR DATE HERE.”

>>VERY FUNNY EDDIE

>>HA HA

>>LAUGHING SO HARD RN 😠😠😠

Bubbles show up while Eddie’s typing, and then:

>>>stop barking or i’ll tell him to get a leash

♡♡♡

Tagging anyone who wants to be share a wip, so if you made it to the end of this goofy ass snippet consider yourself tagged!

[werezmastarbucks]

tear apart

masterlist

word count: 2689

warnings: toxic relationship (story), drunk, blood

music: i'm going slightly mad by queen

The normalcy started returning completely when you looked around the bar and made sure that the world didn't stop spinning because of your little, pathetic tragedy. Freaked out Jackson called Chibs and agreed to come and pick up the body so that it doesn't start to smell too much in this smouldering weather.

You finally elected a vodka cocktail, as Chibs shoved you (gently) into the farthest booth, where the nearest spaces weren't occupied, and the nice shade reigned to hush all conversations.

A huge plate of food, drinks and phones on the table, he took a comfortable position, spreading wide like you imagined he would,

"Alright, tell me everything".

"Everything would be too long. I met Ned about seven years ago. It's a story of how I was naive and really dumb".

"Naive and dumb, nothing better to be when you're young", he supported, no mockery in his voice. "It's a good thing you did that back when you were young, and not now, when you're critically old".

(kritikly - it was like music to your ears)

"Cheers to that", you returned the grin to him, the cheeky laugh in his eyes. It felt like he, too, relaxed a little now, that the thing was done and you didn't stab him next. Or maybe he really, really enjoyed the shower.

"Anyway, I met him at work when I was twenty-three..."

You had to implement the drinking game, because listening to the Ned disaster without it was too much. Chibs set up a rule that you both drink every time he feels like Ned was being a disgrace.

You told him how you spent the whole night at the bar, just like this one, just speaking to Edward. You weren't drinking, even water, you forgot all about it, and people around you. In the loud booming of the weekend bar, you had to tear your throat for him to be able to hear you. You spoke about Eastern European history, which his thesis was on, and about the city, and music, and rare films; he was the kind of guy who secretly shames you for not knowing who Xavier Dolan is. He wore vintage vests, listened to Tame Impala, only drank IPA, lied a lot and made you feel very special. You spoke, and spoke, and spoke, and by morning you lost your voice. You were book smart back then, being able to uphold any conversation, and not seeing that a guy is just trying to charm himself a one night stand. Ned was hoping for a quick win, to jump, seize and fuck, but you were a virgin, and your heart was full because he was the first ever man who managed not to put you off immediately.

(Chibs drank about seven times in the very presentational first part alone).

The irony of the parallel didn't escape him, so he was threading lightly.

Then, when Ned realized that you weren't one of the quick victims who jumped into his bed at the first invitation, he decided you weren't worth it. He got angry. Life had been so easy for him before, after all, his vests, his curly rye hair and his knowledge of Francoise Sagan books opened all doors and all coed legs for him before. Not that you were unique, you were just that lonely and really, really innocent.

Finally, one evening he attacked you, unprovoked, just out of anger of your seeming, imaginary defiance of him. All because you didn't guess what he was getting at all this time, with all these kisses, and messages, and late night walks.

He broke your heart, nearly broke your neck, and then immediately fucked off to Latvia. Leaving in his wake rumors and gossips about you just to hurt you more, because you didn't break, and fell in love instead.

A couple years later you met again, through common friends, and he made an awkward attempt at peace, god knows what he wanted that time.

"Of course you know what he wanted", Chibs chimed in darkly, "it's his unfinished business. Like a vengeful spirit".

He nodded at your glass, and you both took a sip. You were on your second vodka and juice cocktail, and so far, really did feel alright. Maybe the alcohol conoisseur was right about the quality.

"Anyway, I completely ignored his existence. He even tried to egg my friend to tell me that I should bury the hatchet. A grown ass man, asking another girl to try and implant an idea into my mind. How pathetic is that".

He down his glass and looked around in the search of a waitress.

"I am positively dying. Please stab me, break yer glass and kill me with the shard. I can't listen to it no more".

"Well, you asked for it".

"I get that some men have a thing for hunt", he said, through his teeth, sounding like a scientist, "I am one of them, believe me. I do like a beautiful woman like yerself. But to do that so tremendously convolutedly!"

You clicked your tongue, the long words contrasting with his overall vibe.

"Sir, you have quite a way around your expressions". You drowned down a hiccup. Your head spinning a little, in a pleasant, mild way.

"Don't forget to eat. 'Course I do. Very distantly related to Walter Scott, even further than you to Jackie, but nevertheless".

"Oh, stop it, you're bullshitting me".

"I would never have you on, darling", he snarled happily. Completely sober, you thought. This guy is very far from tipsy.

"So should I continue, or you give up?"

"How dare ya. Filip never gives up".

"Who's Filip?"

"Filip is me", his hand snaked amongst glasses and plates to nibble you on your forearm. "You didn't think Chibs was my name? Go on, how did this excuse for a saggy dick become a stalker?"

"I had no idea where he was, what he was doing, after that one time when I was recommended to 'bury the hatchet', I haven't seen him until this very month. I travel to Charming because Jackson reappears right on schedule. You know, we haven't spoken that much, but when we did meet, about every other fifth year of our lives, we always had great connection... I don't know, I have closer cousins than him, but Jackson was always just a great boy to be around, and we always understood each other. Anyway, I work remotely, and he says that he has a son now, so I think, nothing really keeps me in that city anymore..."

Chibs, taking in the long digressions, was also trying to catch a waitress in the corner of his eye. He saw the other guys at the bar looking at you. And the deeper he dove into the inner world of you, the more he realized that he wanted to protect that, whatever you had going on. The need that you demonstrated, to bore deeply into the matter, showed the anxious nature of somebody too observant for her own good. Too thinking, caring too much about every little nonsensical thing. The small tattoos, stamps of impulsivity, a lot of which didn't make sense to him at first glance, screamed anxiety, and youth, and certain motivations that were more irregular than most. It all gave away your eternal youth which was propelled by the decision to choose joy over waning. And Chibs recognized this thing because he himself had a similar one. After forty-eight years, he finally got hold of the thing that kept him young: the desire to choose joy over sadness. To choose others over himself. To choose women, as opposed to rock his bruised and injured ego and never, ever love again.

He scratched his cheek, giving a little smile, not missing a single word.

"...and who approaches me then? Fucking Edward. I was speechless. Otherwise I wouldn't have allowed him to just sit at my table. He then tells me something along the lines of, 'hey, haven't seen you in a while, how you been? Damn, you haven't changed at all...' like we were just two normal acquaintances, you know? What the fuck? And then he orders lemonade for himself, all the while I am just sitting there with my jaw on the table. Oh how I hate myself for immediately not telling him to fuck off to hell. Well, I did stab him later, so I guess I fixed it".

"If he showed up so long ago, why didn't Jackie deal with him?" asked Chibs.

"I kind of downplayed it all because I thought he was just a nuisance. I did complain about him a week ago..."

"A week?" he snarled. "This clearly yellow one", he pointed his finger to your exposed shoulder, where a non-threatening little bruise already started departing from your skin. "Is older than a week".

"Well, we were fighting yes, I didn't wanna Jackson involved. At least it was fair fights then".

"Fair fights?" another really amusing combination from his windy valley produced mouth. "You enjoy fist fighting guys twice your size?"

"I guess I do..." you realized. "Maybe I was expressing something else there".

"Masochist", he concluded, "so, Neddie's been coming 'round, slapping you for at least two weeks, and then what changed today?"

"He tried to choke me, and I grabbed the knife", you shrugged. Chibs shook his head, not in an impressed way, but in a judgemental way.

"This bloke could've killed you. Killed a beautiful little woman, and that would've been the end of the story".

"But he didn't, and it wasn't"

"Ya got very lucky".

"Well, thanks a lot, it wasn't just luck".

"I hear you, Y/N, but believe me when I say it was", he said seriously, "you're brave girl, but having a knife at your side that moment was just wonderful".

You sighed, pouting a little. You did work hard to tear out this victory today. You didn't realize you had been actually fighting for your life, up until now. With Ned, it was always battle for your dignity. That went too far, or at least you thought so. Clearly, Chibs thought differently.

"So, there you have it, like Queen".

i'm going slightly mad,

it finally happened!

i'm slightly mad!

and there you have it,

Freddie repeated after you again, through the speakers at the bar. The space was filling with people.

Chibs was shaking his head slowly.

"Now, you", you demanded, without letting him give any comments. You didn't want to hear his estimation of this miserable story. The black eyes caught your face as he lifted his a little.

"Me? A story?"

"Yes. Where did you get the smile?"

"Me smile?" and he showed it a little. He probably was oblivious to the scars already, having worn them for so long.

"The one that's been cut into you, with a blade".

"Oh, that. I forget about them sometimes".

"They weirdly suit you".

Chibs changed a little. As if a trace of the past insecurity brushed over his face. He touched one of the scars, the more perfect one, on his left cheek, with the tip of his finger.

"That's even a longer story, for another time".

"That's not fair", you retorted.

"Life ain't fair at all".

"Y/N!" Jackson's voice said he was anxious to see you, probably to see if you were okay. The youngest of the Sons stormed into the bar, and you stretched your neck to be visible to him. He rushed to your booth, stopping in his tracks at the sight of the lavish table, the amount of alcohol, Chibs, soft and relaxed, and your bruises.

His bright blue eyes were scanning you, and Chibs, and then you again, and then Chibs.

"Took you long enough", Scotsman unplugged the tension between you.

"You wanna sit?" you offered. Jax shook his head.

"You alright? Why are you so bruised? Why are you so..."

"She's a killer widow, Jackie", Chibs explained, and you couldn't contain the laughter at his readiness to play along, be it about the very big pizza cutter, or this. "She's celebrating his death".

"Come, ugh", Jackson was speaking to his mate, but looking at you still, with worry, "with me, Chibs, help me see what to do with the body".

Chibs could give him a hundred counter arguments, but he knew why the youngster wanted him. So he quickly nodded to you, lifting himself up from the table, and they started walking.

The heat was slowly retreating by the evening, the sky raspberry and orange. But the air was still hot, like a swamp. Jax was all flustered, what and why, and Chibs is a bastard for oggling over his sister on the day that was so traumatic for her. Telford did his best to explain that he was now, at least, acting in her best interest, and noted fairly that she's been taking shit from her weird soy ex for a whole two weeks, no less.

"I had no idea..."

"Ye had no idea that's right", he nudged the boy lightly, "should keep a better eye on such a volatile kinda girl. Her aura screams trouble", Chibs jeered.

"Oh, don't give me this crap, like you know anything about aura now..."

"I know a whole lot about aura, Jackie, I'm a spiritual person..."

Jax snorted, annoyed, holding himself onto the box of the car where Ned was starting to bloat a little.

"Go on and get rid of this loser", Chibs advised, "and I'll keep an eye on her".

"Why don't we swap places?"

"Nay, I earned that. You know how heavy this motherfucker was? And I've been listening the whole fucking four hour backstory of their relationship just there", he stabbed the space behind his shoulder with a thumb, "nah, I am now collecting..."

"It's my sister you're talking about", Jackson broadened his shoulders like he always did when he wanted to assert dominance. He was a very good guy, Jackie. Chibs loved him very much. He caressed the guy's shoulder, giving him a peaceful smile.

But before he could confess just how much he appreciated her, the loud cry came from the bar. Thump, then cry again, and then, swearing.

"Jesus Christ..."

They ran back, pushing through three or four people who were just standing in the middle of the way, staring. Back at the last booth, a big guy, someone from the other side of the town, was sitting next to Y/N, at this point against his will. He probably did try to land next to her to smell her hair and give her a compliment or two. But the spooked girl pushed a sharp meat knife that had been brought together with the sausages, through the back of his hand. Now, he was attached to the table, screaming like an idiot. Jax rushed towards the bartender who, blind with shock, charged towards Y/N who was trying to fight off the enraged admirer who clutched her hair and was roaring curses. Chibs cut the space between them in three steps, pulling the knife out with a swing, and hugging the guy into the crook of his elbow.

"She must have told you to fuck off, didn't she?" he hissed, before landing a slap across his face.

"Go on, then!"

Jax was trying to calm the workers down and not let them close to you. Watching all that, you did feel like a princess for a second. Like they were some kind of very intellectually advanced apes, who protected their territory so efficiently. And you were now included into their territory. You saw Chibs, standing straight, looking back at you with his adorable dimples on scary face. That's what he is. The guarding dog. A little menacing, sure. Doesn't bite you.

He watched her face, ready to tell you off.

"Did I, or did I not say no more stabbing today?" he inquired, knowing full well that if you went on a whole stabbing spree, he'd trail behind. The blushing face pumped with blood, the glimmering eyes with red liner, the pride with which you carried you battle wounds, the skin, the innocent startled look you gave him, the small droplets of blood on collarbones, breasts tucked away under the gaping top - shit was good, and he wanted it, so bad.

[wardenparker]

In the Still of the Night, ch 6

Zach Wellison x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

Grown up and looking to the future, Zach Wellison and bunkmate Shane Morrissey are working for a new cruise line that offers its guests a vintage Vegas experience on the Mediterranean. The romantic atmosphere is rubbing off on many of the crew members, and Zach finds himself to be no exception when he meets the beautiful lead singer of Shane's band.

But being wrapped in the seductive arms of an atmospheric cruise is a far cry from real life. How will their relationship fare on dry land? They can't know unless they try.

Rating: M for Mature but this blog is always 18+ Word Count: 5.2k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this story include: Cursing, alcohol, food, cooking, eating, discussion of clothing/costumes. Mentions of prison time served, mentions of past homelessness.* Brief mention of assumptions made about the homeless, family death. Summary: Things have been going so well, that of course life finds a way to interrupt bliss. Notes: We seem to have hit the drama button this week. As always, I apologize for an errors I may have missed, and gif is for vibes not physical representation of characters. Hope you enjoy 🧡

Ch 1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3 ~ Ch 4 ~ Ch 5

It’s still astounding to Zach how much shit he has acquired since getting on the cruise ship. He’s spent so much time living in sea bags when he was in the Marines and then out of that same bag when he was homeless, it’s fucking surprising to have to make multiple trips to move his stuff from the cabin that he shares with Shane to the brand new soulmate suite he will share with you. “Fuck.” He hisses, nearly dropping a little trinket he had picked up in Athens.

“Careful.” Shane warns needlessly, lugging in the last box with both arms. This one is books and Zach likes thick hardcovers from street markets.

“Why didn’t you tell me I had too much shit?” Zach grumbles, even though it’s not Shane’s place to say anything. He never takes up too much space in their shared cabin and always keeps his side neat.

“Why the hell would I do that?” His now former roommate huffs. The fact is, Shane never wanted Zach to feel bad about a single damn thing he owned. Not when he had gone so long with so little. “Memories are fuckin’ important, Wellison.”

“Yeah.” He feels a little embarrassed though, that’s a lot of money compiled into that box. Money he could have been saving or using on necessities.

“Stop.” Shane huffs as he stands up again. “I know it’s—it makes you feel guilty. Like every single penny needs to get saved for a rainy day.” He had felt that way too, after getting out of prison and making it through a halfway house. He’d spent a year or so squatting and saving until he finally found steady work that didn’t ask too many questions. There are a lot of similar memories still working their way through Zach’s mind as he navigates the next stage of his life. “What are you saving it for if not to live? To have a life?”

One of the things that he loves and hates about Shane is his ability to read Zach easily. He guesses it’s easier since he’s walked the same path he has and can relate more than anyone else they know. It’s also comforting to know that Zach could possibly be as well adjusted as Shane one day. “You’re right.” He huffs, rolling his eyes. “Damnit.”

"You okay, baby?" The first thing you hear from the doorway of the suite when you arrive with your arms full of garment bags is Zach swearing, and your brow furrows.

“Yeah!” Zach pops his head up from where he was trying to fit the trunk into the tight space and slams his head on the desk above. “Ow! Fuck!”

"Babe!" You flinch when he swears again, mostly because it comes with hitting his head, and immediately drop what you were carrying onto the nearest piece of furniture. "Take it easy, honey. It doesn't all have to get done instantly."

“Shit, I’m sorry.” He groans, rubbing his head as he straightens up. “Thought I would have everything squared away.”

"There's no hurry," you remind him gently, checking his head for a bump and thankfully finding none. "Hi. It's been like four hours since I saw you last. Way too many."

“Hi.” He smiles even though his head still hurts, happy to see you. “It was too long.”

"Way too long." In fact, it's been long enough for your heart to start hammering just from being around him again, so you have absolutely no shame in going to wrap your arms around him in a tight hug.

He leans into your touch like he seems to always do. Basking in the simple intimacy that some might take for granted, but not him. “I’ve got all my stuff.” He tells you. “What else do you need to bring?”

“I’ve got one more trip to make.” You tell him, happily bundled into his arms. “I brought some stuff over this morning before bingo.”

“I can help you.” He promises. “I don’t have to be at the club for another hour to start prep.” He knows that he can have his staff do all the prep, but he doesn’t like to do that. It makes him feel guilty, like he’s not earning his paycheck.

“Are you sure?” Searching his face, you but your lip and frown. On the one hand? You’re not going to give up the help, but in the other you don’t want to make him feel like a packhorse.

“Of course I want to help you.” He would be offended, but you had confided that beyond a few friends like Shane, you hadn’t found many people who were willing to exert any extra time or energy when you needed help. Even though you had constantly helped anyone who needed it. “We can make quick work of it together.” He promises, flashing you a reassuring smile.

The instinct to push back and refuse is there, but you know that with Zach it isn’t necessary. Or at least, he had promised you it wasn’t and you have to remind yourself that he has no reason to lie to you. “Thank you, baby,” you murmur instead, dropping a kiss in the corner of his mouth. “It’s just one more trip.”

“Then we will get it all settled.” He loves that you are letting him help and he wraps his arms around you. “So let’s go before I want to drag you over to our new Queen sized bed to try it out.”

“That big bed is going to make such a difference.” And you won’t apologize for a second about sprawling out over him, either.

“Need me to stay?” Shane asks, smirking as if he knows the answer.

“We got it.” You promise him, tucked into Zach’s side. “Go call Diana and tell her that I said hi.”

“He’s going to be happy to have his room all to himself.” Zach chuckles. “I bet their sex talk increases.”

“Guaranteed.” The two of you close the door to your new suite behind you and head back toward your old room for the last of your things. “Ten bucks says he’s halfway back to your old room already for sex.”

“No doubt.” He snorts and knows that he would do the same thing in the other man’s shoes. “But enough about him.” He purrs playfully. “The sooner we get your stuff back here; the sooner we can have our own alone time.”

“Do we have time for a little homecoming before work tonight?” You wink for full effect, already giggling at your own joke.

“Hmmmmmm.” Zach pretended to contemplate it, grinning back at you. “I think it’s necessary at this point.”

Nudging him along the hall, you end up slipping right past him to practically pull him along. "Then why are you walking so slow, Wellison?"

His laughter follows behind you, a light, happy sound as his footsteps speed up to match yours.

The last trip is a few bags of every day items like your cosmetics, jewelry, and hair things, along with bathroom products. It’s nice to have a hand, and River takes it as a last chance to tease Zach about ‘taking you off her hands’. All the teasing in the world doesn’t make her hug you any less though, and you promise her one time that not being roommates anymore doesn’t mean a damn thing for your friendship. It just means hanging out will be even more special now.

“You’ve got a lot of jewelry.” Zach is uneasy holding the bag that seemingly holds hundreds of earrings and necklaces as you both walk back to your new home. A throw over from times where he would and could be accused of stealing a stick of gum. He keeps his hands where you can see them, even if it’s completely ridiculous, considering he is living with you and will be alone in your shared space with this stuff eventually.

“I like thrift shops.” Walking side by side, you lug your bags of cosmetics and bath things down the hall with a anime. “You can always find vintage stuff pretty cheap. A dollar or two for a pair of earrings I can wear on stage, ya know? Sometimes you can even find sets.”

“A couple of dollars?” He frowns slightly. “It’s…costume jewelry?” He asks incredulously. All of your outfits and accessories look extremely expensive.

“I mean…there might be a piece or two that’s worth something because some grandkid didn’t bother to have granny’s jewelry box valued after she died, but yeah.” You shrug, always having been more practical through your life out of necessity. “It’s pretty much all paste stone and glass. Looks pretty, though.”

His shoulders relax significantly and he nods. “Though I think you deserve real jewelry.” He frowns slightly, wondering how much something gorgeous for you would cost him.

“Maybe one day.” In an effort to make him smile, you nudge him with your elbow as you turn down another hallway together. “I’d wear a gum wrapper as long as you were the one who gave it to me.”

"I'll do better than a gum wrapper." He scoffs, but his lips pull up and his eyes are soft as he looks over at you. "That I can promise you." He'll buy you the very best ring he could find.

"My point is that the emotional weight of a gift means more than the price tag." It's something you've talked about just a little, the fact that you're both realistically broke when you're not living on the ship. "As long as it's something that made you think of me, I don't care what it costs."

“Hell, everything makes me think of you.” Zach grins and winks at you. “Hurry up and I’ll show you what I’m thinking right now.”

“Naughty.” The scandalized tone in your voice is just for show, and you pick up the pace considerably, practically racing him back down the hall to your new suite.

******

Both of you show up to work with incredibly smug smirks and a small skip to your steps. Zach rushes into the kitchen, technically late by thirty-five seconds but he couldn’t resist that one last kiss with you.

"Oh my god." Zach's sous chef and saucier are smirking right by the doorway when he walks into the kitchen. Both holding up their watches. "For the first time ever — Chef is only on time instead of early."

He couldn’t look stern even if he tried. Just too buoyed by happiness with you and the fact that you are just as giddy as he is. One day maybe the feeling will settle, but for now it’s butterflies and feeling lighter than a cloud. “Yeah, yeah.” He huffs, waving them off. “I know you have work. I might be on time but everything’s already outlined.”

"Oh, we were early today." His sous chef flashes him a grin. "We only stopped to wonder if you were actually going to be late."

“We were moving cabins.” He defends half-heartedly. He still can’t shake the grin on his face, so he knows they know that excuse is complete bullshit. “Get back to work.” He huffs, shooing them away.

“Any changes tonight? Last minute specials?” Zach’s team asks gently. They aren’t stupid. They know he’s been catering his specials to what the boss’s new girlfriend likes best. And if it weren’t so damn sweet, they might be annoyed about it.

He grins and shakes his head. “Nothing tonight, except I want to add a cherry cognac sauce to the chocolate cake.” He admits. “I appreciate you working with me on the unusual menu changes. You all have adapted admirably.”

“Keeps things interesting, chef.” His sous chef tells him, with a knowing grin. “But at this point we’re gonna be offended if we don’t get to cook your wedding dinner since we know what she loves already.”

"I couldn't imagine any other staff I would trust." Zach admits. Being in the trenches of the kitchen with this group had taught him how fucking talented most of the cooks on a ship where. Not only did they turn out the 'regular' foods served in the buffet for breakfast and lunch, but they also executed the finer dinning menu with the same ease. "Seriously."

“You heard the man!” The call goes out around the kitchen even as though few members of the staff closest to Zach are exchanging knowing smiles. He’s a good guy and an even better boss, and they would all walk through fire for him. Adjusting menus is the least of it. “Let’s get to work!”

The kitchen is a flury of activity from the moment they say 'go' and Zach just chuckles as he watches all the crew that he has assembled rush back to their stations. "Let's put a meal on the table they will never forget." He hums.

******

It goes from rare that you and Zach spend a night apart to downright impossible for the first several weeks of living together, but your old roommate River is having a little birthday party for her thirtieth and you can’t deny the request to join her that night. She’s forgoing a big party and just having a few of the girls over after hours, with wine and treats and gossip for all.

“Sweetheart, it’s okay.” Zach promises for the eighth time, leaning in and kissing the concerned frown off your lips. “Shane and the guys invited me out for a drink, so you go have fun. I won’t be pining away for you in misery.” He grins. “But I will miss you.”

“I’ll miss you, too.” The bag with River’s gift in it dangled from the same hand that your purse does and you have the other hand on his cheek. “Have fun, baby. I love you.”

“You too.” You look amazing, but you always do. Zach watches as you turn and stride towards the door. “I love you.”

Down a few hallways and in the deck below where you and Zach share a suite, River has turned your old shared room into a boho chic crash pad with beaded curtains and scarves over her lamps, and the smell of patchouli in the air. It’s her happy place and you love that she is able to fully settle in and enjoy a comfortable place to herself until the quartermaster gives her a new roommate.

The music is on, but respectfully low to not disturb the cabins around hers if they are sleeping. The sound really coming out when she opens the door and grins. “Honestly didn’t know if you could tear yourself away.” She teases, lunging forward to wrap you in a tight hug.

“I didn’t either,” you joke, though it’s not wholly a joke. You squeeze her back and let her pull you inside easily. “Happy Birthday, honey.”

“Well, come in.” She grins as she pulls you inside. “Everyone else is on their way.”

“How many people are we going to cram into this place?” It’s nice to be back in a sort of nostalgic way. You had liked living with River and been fast friends with the philosophically-inclined bartender.

“Only four others.” She promises. “Intimate. Wine and gossip.”

“And snacks.” Along with River’s present, you have a tray of treats Zach made for you to bring for the party.

“Your soulmate is the best.” She gushes, eyes lighting up in delight. Zach had picked your brain for her favorites and managed to put together a finger food tray that was completely River. Right down to the mini cucumber sandwiches.

“He says happy birthday, too,” you laugh as she pulls you inside with gleeful giggles.

“What’s he doing tonight?” She asks, taking the tray and setting it down on the desk where she already has four bottles of wine and six glasses ready to go. “Pining for you?”

“Maybe.” You huff, though you can feel the warmth in your cheeks at the suggestion. “He’s having beers with the band. Boy gossip time.”

“Good.” She knows that you will be thinking about Zach, you have this almost dreamy expression on your face now. “Then I won’t feel guilty about pumping you for details.”

That only makes you laugh, because you had a feeling she would go that route, but she’s still your friend to tease. “Oh, so I’m the subject of tonight’s gossip?”

“Of course.” She huffs, rolling her eyes dramatically as if it was never in question. “No one else has anything as interesting going on in their lives.”

“Oh my god, you are not starting without me!” Madi — one of the hostesses from the ship’s high end restaurants and the most fashionable person you’ve ever met — comes in right behind you with a look of conspiratorial glee on her face. “I need to know everything.”

Quickly after her, the three other women who were invited arrive, all squealing about seeing you and soon all of you are lounging around the room with wine glasses in your hands. All of them waiting for the gossip to begin.

“Okay, okay.” You can pretend all you like, but getting to talk to some new people about Zach is actually nice. The guys in the band have heard every story already. Or they were there when it happened. “What do you vultures want to know?”

Tara grins, picking up a cucumber sandwich and examining it. “How much food play is involved in your bedroom life?” She asks, cackling at the joke. She’s a casino host from Zimbabwe and has a wickedly sharp sense of humor. Guests and crew alike adore her.

“Surprisingly very little.” You shouldn’t be stressed that that is the first question, but it still makes you grin. Zach doesn’t like food play because he still has hang ups about wasting food, but you use it in other ways. “Food is usually flirting with him. Seduction. Sometimes I walk into the club at night and his menu special is something I know he meant just for me.”

“That is so damn romantic.” Madi huffs. “I want a man who makes me special meals.” She takes a sip of her wine. “I bet he does that a lot, doesn’t he?”

“Almost every day,” you admit, hiding your grin behind your wine glass. “I swear I’m going to need a gym membership when we get back to New York. His food is so fucking good.”

"It looks like you are getting plenty of workouts." Jasmine snickers, lifting a brow at you. "You haven't gained a pound so you are sweating it off somewhere."

Zach doesn’t mind if you gossip a bit, you had made sure to ask how much he was comfortable with and he said it was fine. The broad strokes will surely be shared tonight, even while you keep the finer details for yourself. So you have no qualms admitting how active you actually have been. “I’m putting my birth control through the wringer.”

All of the girls erupt into giggles, happy about how proud of that fact you look and the playful banter starts to ping pong back and forth between them. All of them teasing you about positions and techniques to keep your soulmate making you fabulous meals for months to come.

“I know you guys didn’t invite me just to hear about how incredible my soulmate is,” you tease. Pouring your third glass of wine has you just as giggly as the rest of them. “Did you?”

A form chorus of ‘yes! is only counter by one ‘of course not! and that was only River who disagrees. Everyone starts laughing again and Tara hums. “We are all so happy for you babe. You light up at the mere mention of him.”

"He's..." The dreamy sign you let out is undeniable. Not that you ever would deny him. "He's the love of my life. I really don't know how I got so lucky."

"Did you know?" Jasmine asks quietly. "Before you actually knew? Were you like, drawn to him?"

"Hindsight is twenty-twenty," you admit, with a shrug of your shoulders that convinces no one at all. "I was definitely drawn to him, but I had no idea why. It was just..." The feeling had been there. It had blossomed in you and taken hold and grown so fast you couldn't keep it up. "I just thought it was the most intense crush I'd ever had. Like when you're a tween and have that very first puppy love experience? But as an adult it was so much more intense. I thought that's what it was...but it was the bond."

"Did Zach feel the same way?" Tara asks. "I can only assume he thought you were gorgeous, but every man on the crew thinks you're beautiful."

"Oh come on, don't be ridiculous." It's a lovely compliment, but it's definitely an exaggeration. "If you were to ask him, he would tell you that it was love at first sight for him. But he didn't think I'd ever like him, too. Which is patently ridiculous. Obviously."

"Obviously." River giggles. "Don't kill me, but Zach is hot."

“Why would I kill your for that?” You giggle over a sip of wine. “You’re right and you should say it.”

"Are you not jealous?" Tara asks, impressed by the idea that you wouldn't be. "I mean, I guess you wouldn't be, when he's so obviously devoted to you."

“I’m not going to be jealous that people have eyes. That’s silly.” Besides which, you’ve dealt with jealousy. You’ve seen it firsthand. It’s an ugly emotion that you never intend to face if you can ever help it. “As long as I’m the one he comes home to at night, I don’t care who else notices him. I know I’m damn lucky.”

"You are truly lucky." Madi sighs. "So lucky."

“Maybe you’ll find out Olaf is your soulmate,” you tease, grinning and making the other girls giggle. Madi had been long distance dating a Swiss hotel heir that she met while on vacation with her family in London. “You should get up the gumption to ask him if he has that tattoo of yours.”

"I would rather see it." She groans, rolling her eyes. "I need to see him. Tell the captain to sail around the continent. I have a man to jump."

"Get. It. Girl!" Jasmine crows, clapping and practically cheering.

Everyone laughs and you nearly spill your wine in the jostle of enthusiastic women.

It's a breath of fresh air to feel this happy and this free. This happy about your life. It might be the first time ever that you really are happy with exactly how things are, and that itself is a miracle.

******

Coming back to the room he shares with you, Zach is pleasantly buzzed. He had shared quite a few beers with Shane and the other guys, as well as shooting the shit and catching up. Trading jokes and stories. It’s different working back of the house in a kitchen and being up on stage in front of the same crowd of people. Both have interesting outlooks and everyone had laughed over the similarities and differences.

The click of the door startles you, mostly for reasons you can't quite articulate, but you jump out of your seat when Zach comes into the room. Cheeks stained with tears that you're still crying, your phone is clutched in one hand but you immediately reach for him with the other.

“What’s wrong?” Zach is immediately grabbing you, rushing over to your side and he sees that you seem physically alright. But your tears are aching, painful. He can feel how you are heartbroken. “What is it?” He demands, crushing you to him and instantly sobering.

"My, um—" You have to gasp between the tears, but you had hung up the phone with your mother just seconds before Zach came home and you haven't had time to process it all yet. "My Gram died." It seems so surreal, that sentence, and the very fact that you have to say it. She had seemed so well the last time you saw her. So capable and healthy. You had talked to her barely a week ago and she was perfectly fine. "It was—she had a stroke. This morning."

“Oh baby.” Zach has no family left to speak of, but he knows the heartbreak of loss. He closes his eyes as he holds you close. “I am so sorry.”

"They're organizing the funeral." Your voice wobbles, as uncertain as you feel, and you hold onto him tightly. "I—I gotta go home."

“Yes you do.” Zach squeezes you tight. “Do you want me to come with you?”

"Can you be away from the club?" Honestly you hadn't even processed the idea that Zach would offer to come with you, let alone that he actually could. "The, uh...the cruise—" You sniff back tears as best you can, trying to give yourself a clear head. "It's almost over. I have to talk to...I don't even know who. Someone. About going home."

“I’ll make sure I can.” Because of the pilot program on the cruise ship, they are docking and spending a week in port for meetings to make sure that there aren’t any changes that need to be made. It’s unusual, but it’s actually a good thing in this case. “My crew can handle the kitchen, even if it’s not new recipes.”

"Are you sure?" His willingness to just drop everything to be there for you is astonishing, and you couldn't be more grateful.

“Unless….you don’t want me to go?” He asks, unsure of why you’re so resistant to the idea of him supporting you during your loss. “I don’t have to if you’d rather go alone.”

"No, no — I want you to." Your hands tighten a little on his arms, silently begging him not to pull back. "I'm just...I'm still processing. And I guess I didn't expect you to offer it so easily."

“Of course I would.” He firms up his hold on you and leans into the embrace. “Whatever you need, I’m here for you.”

"Thank you." You lean your forehead on his chest and breathe an extremely shaky breath, trying to keep hold of yourself so you don't break down crying again. "I love you so much."

"I love you too." He promises softly, his hand running up and down your back to soothe you. "Come on, let's lay down and you can cry it out." He knows it's too late for anything to be done tonight, but in the morning will be soon enough.

******

The morning, it turns out, is a whirlwind. The crew is given notice that the docking in port will be for two weeks instead of one due to a necessary repair on the ship, so when you go into the office to ask for a few extra days of bereavement leave, you’re told to take whatever you need. Shane promises to keep the band rolling in your absence and Zach turns his kitchen over to his sous chef for the time being. Things at work will be perfectly fine while the two of you are on dry land. You keep telling yourself that over and over while you pack.

Zach doesn't have many formal clothes, so he frets over that while he packs the nicest ones he has. "I— I will have to get a suit." He tells you after a moment. " I don't have one, and I'm assuming you want me at the funeral?"

You nod, still feeling fuzzy and vague, like your whole reality is off center. “I’m sorry honey, I mean—yes. We can get you one. The funeral isn’t for a few days, thankfully.”

"Don't be sorry." He sets the shirt down he had been folding carefully and moves over to where you are stuffing a large black suitcase full. Sliding his arms around you and hugging your back in support. "I'm sorry that I have to get one, that it will take time away from family."

“It’s okay,” you promise him quietly, drowning in the feeling of actual comfort and security inherent in being held in his arms. You’re so fucking grateful for Zach all of the time, but especially now. “I have a feeling that an excuse to get out of the house will be helpful now and then.”

"Whatever you need." He assures you. "I know it's not the best way to meet the family, but I'm here for you. If you need time away, you just let me know."

“I thought I could show you around Tulsa a little.” The good parts, anyway. He’ll see enough of the shitty parts while he’s with you. “When we decided we needed to get out, I mean.”

“That sounds good.” Zach nods. “What time is our flight?” You had made the arrangements, since you knew what to do. He had offered, and he had insisted on paying for his travel since you wouldn’t let him pay for both of you.

“Seven tonight. It’s going to be a long-ass flight home. Two layovers and every flight is at least a few hours long.” That draws another long, low sigh out of you and you lean back against his chest. “You’re amazing for doing this with me, baby. I can’t tell you how grateful I am.”

“Of course.” He makes it sound simple and for him, it is. “Don’t forget to pack your book.” He murmurs. “And your sleep mask. Maybe you can get a few hours of sleep on the flights.” You didn’t sleep last night, but that’s almost expected.

“You’ll have to teach me the military trick for sleeping anywhere.” Zach’s ability to fall asleep at the drop of a hat is fairly spectacular, and you grab your sleep mask from the bedside table as he recommends. It can go in your carryon with the book you’ve been reading. And a spare, for good measure.

He grins at you and drops a kiss on your forehead. "Exhaustion beyond compare." He explains. "There's no other way to describe it."

“I have a feeling I might get there this week.” Slowly, methodically, the two of you work through your packing. Your little hometown right outside of Tulsa, Oklahoma isn’t much to talk about but you tell him little bits here and there. It doesn’t feel real to be going back like this. It doesn’t feel right. But it is what it is and cannot be anymore.

"It'll be alright." He knows you are bouncing back and forth between grief and nervousness, but he lets you talk it out how you need to. "If you need me to do anything at all, you just let me know."

“The fact that you’re coming with me means more than you know.”

"Baby, you are my soulmate." He reminds you. "We are a team, and I know that if it was me, you would be right beside me." He appreciates that and he takes your hand when you turn to him. "I want you to know you can lean on me anytime. I'm here for you."

“If it was you, I wouldn’t hesitate.” And that, you suppose, is his point. So you nod your head and to your head back, pressing a short kiss to his lips. “I love you more than anything.”

“I love you too, sweetheart.” He murmurs. “You’re my world.”

------ Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @haylzcyon   @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3 @avaleineandafryingpan @charlyrmv @avidreader73 @iceclaw101 @loveslide @elegantduckturtle @becsworld @julesonrecord @its-nebuleuse @itsrubberbisquit @mikeyswifie @guelyury @lizzie-cakes @for-a-longlongtime @vabeachazn @purplerain04 @weho2kcmo @madnessofadaydreamer

ItSotN: @greenwitchfromthewoods @copperhalfcent @ariavitiellos @spishsstuff @76bookworm76

[lovegalor333]

fresh start

part four (chapter 10-12) previous part • next part

word count: 6.9k

content warnings: vomit

Lily

Time was moving fast in my first semester in Connecticut. August had flown by in a whirlwind of classes, new friends, finding my feet at work and navigating mine and Paiges clandestine meetings.

As September dwindled on we debated telling our nearest and dearest hoping to be able to spend more time together outside of our cars and closed bedroom doors. We ultimately decided to keep things under wraps a little longer, the reason going unspoken but the truth was, how could we explain us to others when we hadn't even defined us to us?

I could confidently say that Paige was the only person I was entertaining and I intended to keep it that way. I couldn't speak for the blue eyed girl but I was equally confident that I was the only person she was entertaining. I mean it would be hard for her to have anyone else in her life, between training, classes and work commitments she barely had time to just be and when she did, she was tucked away in a corner of Storrs with me.

We spent most evenings buckled in our cars, taking turns to be the passenger and driver. Paige enjoyed being behind the wheel so I took the role of passenger princess most of the time but I didn't mind. Getting to watch Paige do the simplest of tasks like driving brought me so much contentment.

We frequented the Fro-Yo store we went to on our first date - which Paige now refused to call a date because of its simplicity and spontaneity.

"I want a re-do." She had said when I mentioned our first date on our first return to the store. "Why?" I questioned, not seeing an issue with the frozen yogurt store being part of our history. "Because you deserve more." She told me and promised a 'proper' first date.

I didn't care where I was with Paige just being with her was more than enough.

While our roommates were out, we bunkered down in our apartments watching movies and sharing our favourite TV shows, silently slipping out before anyone returned home and caught us tangled together.

Kelsey was definitely getting suspicious of my actions but I'd been able to play it off, blaming work and an ungodly amount of 'library sessions'. Lucky for me, she had picked up a job which meant more of her time was occupied meaning she was less focused on my whereabouts.

Paige and I still managed to spend time with each other around our friends, it just meant no PDA but that didn't stop the stolen glances and covert touches shared.

"Do you have to leave?" Paige dramatically wined, her bottom lip poking out and eyes hooded making her look like a sad puppy.

"Yes, P." I say peeling myself off the girl that was spread out on her bed, me tucked perfectly into her side like we were two pieces of a puzzle that were made to be connected.

"The girls will be back any second and I have dinner plans with Hannah and Kels." I remind her.

"Fine." She says feigning annoyance.

Paige had texted me to come over after Azzi, Nika, Ice, KK and Ines had left for late Friday classes and I immediately complied. Time with Paige, after a long week of studying and writing up notes for Marcus to turn into articles, was just what I had needed to shut off.

"But I'll see you tomorrow right? You're coming to the party?" Paige asks and I nod my head as I stretch out my hands for Paige to take and I pull her up from her bed.

There was a party on campus tomorrow in one of the frat houses and apparently it wasn't to be missed.

"We're having pre drinks here, come with the girls." She tells me referring to my roommates.

"Sure." I say melting into Paiges arms as she hugged me goodbye.

Before I had the chance to make my escape, the apartment door clicked open and a series of voices filled the once quiet space.

Paige and I quickly released each other from our grips and sent one another a panicked look, the girls were home and what excuse did we have for being together?

Paiges bedroom door was open and anyone in the living room could see directly in and that's exactly what Azzi did.

"Oh hey Lily! What are you doing here?" She greeted, joining me and Paige in her room.

"Hey Azzi!" I replied racking my brain for an answer to her question.

Paige stayed awkwardly silent by my side, thanks P.

We both watched as Azzi looked between us and then to Paiges bed which was a bundle of blankets with a clear mould of where our bodies laid just minutes ago. Her eyebrows raised in a knowing way and she smiled before turning and walking out, back to the living room.

"Well if she didn't already, I think Azzi knows." I laugh turning to Paige.

She pulls me out of the view of the door, "I trust Azzi." She says pressing a short quick kiss to my lips, neither of us daring to deepen it incase another one of her roommates walked in.

I managed to leave Paiges apartment with no more questions asked and left her to explain to Azzi what she'd interpreted.

Saturday slipped quietly away in a mix of alone time and relaxed small talk with my roommates. We were all lounging around our living room, each occupying a corner of the couch, phones in hand.

Kelsey was playing TikToks out loud occasionally turning her phone to the rest of us when there was a video we 'needed to see'.

I was texting Paige, us both excited about seeing each other later on that night. After a talk with her best friend, it was concluded that Azzi did in fact know that there was something going on between us. She had noticed Paige slipping out of the apartment at random times, not returning for hours and her sudden uninsterest to do things she would usually never say no to. Paige reiterated that she trusted Azzi and if she did, I did too.

are you going to tell kelsey?

idk

i feel pretty bad, with our pact and all

kelseys cool

im sure she'd understand

im just too irresistible to keep a promise like that

ha ha.

im not sure what id even tell her

wdym?

well the pact was to stay single

im not your girlfriend?

oh

dont be like that

like what?

dont make me feel bad for questioning what we are

we're getting to know each other like we said

you suggested it

i know, im enjoying it

you also agreed

me too

like a lot

lets talk about this when we're together

ok

I felt bad saying that I wasn't Paiges girlfriend so bluntly but it was the truth and it didn't mean I wasn't committed to her and only her because I was. Clarity on the situation would be nice but Paige was right, we were still getting to know each other at my suggestion to do so.

Yesterday marked one month since we'd met so it made sense that we were still taking things slow but something in me deep down felt like I'd known Paige longer than four weeks.

I was pulled from my thoughts as Madison asked everyone what they planned on wearing to the party and the discussion quickly escalated into a full blown planning session. Outfits, hair and makeup all being a topic.

Paige

"Well she's right. She's not your girlfriend." Azzi said matter-of-factly from her place at the end of my bed.

I had shown my best friend the texts between me and Lily hoping for some good ol' Azzi wisdom.

"I know that but it still hurt to read it. Do you think she's talking to other people?" I ask propping myself up on my elbow so I could look at my friend properly.

"From what you've told me, I don't think she has the time! Y'all spend all your free time together." She pointed out and she was right, if Lily wasn't with me she was either in class or at work and I knew that for a fact because I frequently drove her there wanting to spent as much time with the girl as possible.

"Do you want her to be your girlfriend?"

I hadn't thought about it but I supposed I did, I was just extremely aware what it would come with. Not just a million questions from our friends but also the media and I had a college career to think about it. I knew being with Lily officially wouldn't jeopardise my basketball in anyway but the pressure of a public relationship was something I'd never dealt with before and if I was honest, it scared me.

"Eventually, yes." I admit now fully sitting up on my bed.

"OK, so if you know where it's headed, don't stress the journey Paige."

"I want her to know I'm serious though."

"Then tell her, it's that simple."

Azzi was right, she always was, unfortunately.

Azzi and I spent the rest of the afternoon preparing the apartment for our arranged pre drinks. We did a Target run for supplies and picked up a crazy amount of liquor.

"A party on campus means no DD." Azzi triumphed as we packed several crates of beer and bottles of spirits into my trunk.

If we were ever out drinking off campus, a few of the team always stayed sober to ensure we would make it home safe but that didn't need to happen tonight, the party was in walking distance.

"Music to my ears." I say as we climb back into the car.

"So you're going to let loose for once?"

I almost always volunteered to be a DD, mainly to save myself from deathly hangovers the next morning but also because drunk Paige got very messy, very quickly especially when cameras were around and my teammates had a love of livestreaming.

"Dirty Shirleys all night." I smirked beginning our short drive back to campus to begin getting ready.

I also think a little dutch courage wouldn't go amiss when it came to telling Lily that I was locked in when it came to us.

˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊✧˚ · .

Lily

For the first time since meeting her, I was nervous to see Paige. Our text conversation earlier in the day weighed heavy on my mind. She wanted to talk about us when we saw each other but I'm not sure a frat house party was the best setting for such a loaded topic. Even though she had reassured me that she was enjoying what we had going on - whatever it was - there was still a voice in the back of my mind that told me I wasn't good enough for Paige.

"Lils, are you ready?" Madison asked peeking her head into my bedroom as I spritzed my favourite perfume on my wrists and collarbones.

"Yep! Coming now." I replied, grabbing my bag and slinging it over my shoulder, my phone, wallet and keys nestled perfectly inside.

I checked my outfit one last time in my full length mirror, I had gone for a simple black mini skirt and white baby tee with some black boots and an oversized leather jacket, before joining my roommates in the living room.

"You guys look amazing!" I complemented seeing my friends fully ready for tonight's party.

"Says you!" Hannah responds, "Paige is going to be like a dog with a bone!"

I look to Kelsey as she says this to gauge her reaction. I had told Paige I would tell her about us but hadn't had the chance to yet. I didn't want to disappoint her at my lack of loyalty to our pact, our friendship meant a lot to me.

"I'm sure Paige has lots of bones." I say trying to play off Hannahs comment but just voicing that made me recoil. The thought of Paige with anyone else the way I'd been with her made me want to hurl.

"And she'd be crazy to not choose you. You're for sure the juiciest." Kelsey quips playfully smacking my ass and we all laugh.

My friends relaxed demeanour about the topic of me and Paige put my anxious thoughts at ease.

"OK, enough with the bone metaphors, lets go!" Madison piped up, leading us out of the door.

Kelsey and I walked together behind Hannah and Madison as we made our way across campus to the girls' apartment for pre drinks.

"What's up?" She asks, nudging me gently. I'd not said a word so far, trying to work out the right ones.

"So..." I begin, "I've kinda been hanging out with Paige a lot recently."

She gasps dramatically, hands over her chest, "Really? I would have never guessed."

I look at her seriously, has it been that obvious?

"Are you mad?"

"Mad? About how long it's taken you to tell me? Yes."

"But our pact...our bracelets...I don't want you to think-"

"Girl, those bracelets cost me like $2, don't sweat it." She says placing a reassuring hand on my arm.

"Really?"

"Really. Besides, I don't know who I was fooling telling myself I'd be single an entire semester. I'm already so bored, I got a job!" She laughs.

"This wasn't my intention, it just kind of happened naturally and the more time we spend together, the more I'm realising how much I actually like Paige." I confess.

"OK lover girl, you've got a lot to catch me up on tomorrow!" She says as we reach our destination.

We take the elevator to Paiges floor, my roommates following behind me as I navigate us to the front door brandishing a number 9 and open it, letting us into the apartment.

"You can tell shes done this before." Kelsey comments and I turn around giving her a cheeky smirk.

"Hey girly pops!" KK greets us as we step inside, taking her time to hug us all.

Azzi and Ice are soon at our sides too, shot glasses in there hands, extended in our direction, "Shots on entry!" Ice announces and I take the small glass and swallow its content.

My eyes scan the room seeing the rest of the team. Jana, Caroline and Kayla are pouring drinks in the kitchen. Ines, Amari, Nika, Aubrey and Aaliyah are huddled around the table focused on some sort of drinking game that involved guessing what number one of them was thinking of. The others were scattered around engrossed in conversation. Everyone was in the living room apart from Paige.

"She's in her room." KK says into my ear as if reading my mind, "You know where that is."

"Thanks KK." I say to the girl as I make my way to Paiges bedroom.

It seems like Paige and I had been quite naive in thinking our movements had gone unnoticed.

"Hello, little miss unsocial." I smile leaning against the door frame.

Paiges head flicks up from her phone in a swift movement at the sound of my voice.

"Hello, little miss..." She looks me up and down and I blush under her gaze. "...hottie. Come here." She motions for me to join her as she stands up from the edge of her bed and I do.

She pulls me into a hug, both her arms slipping around my waist and mine going around her neck, her lips press to my neck and I melt at the sensation.

Suddenly any nerves I had about seeing Paige had disappeared and I don't know why they were there in first place because she has this way of making me feel like nothing bad exists in the world.

"Who are you looking so good for?" She asks, her voice low and husky.

"Oh, I don't know. There's this girl I'm getting to know." I say referencing our earlier texts, hoping to probe Paige into a conversation.

My hopes are answered with her response.

"Lily, I want to tell you that you're the only girl I'm getting to know. You're the only girl I want to know." She tells me, her hands moving from my waist to hold both of mine. Her words were rushed but no less clear and her signature, intense eye contact told me it was genuine.

A smile spread on my face as I processed what Paige had just said.

"P-"

"If you're talking to other people, that's fine." She cuts me off.

"P, you're the only girl I want to know too. Since you shook my hand in the gym, that first day we met, you've been the only girl."

"So you're not talking to anyone else?"

I laugh, "No, I'm not."

"Good because I lied, it wouldn't be fine." She says truthfully and I laugh again at her serious expression.

"How many drinks have you had?" I ask her smiling, now that I'm looking in her eyes, it's clear she's had a few.

"Two, maybe three. I was kinda nervous." She admits, breaking her eyes away from mine and looking down.

"You don't have to be nervous with me." I say lifting her face, my hand staying on her jaw, "I'm all in." I declare before leaning in and connecting our lips. She kisses me back passionately, her hands finding my hips and digging in pulling me closer to her, our bodies pressing against each other.

"All in." She says breathlessly as we break away and we both take each other in for a moment, big smiles of both our faces.

"Ever had a Dirty Shirley?" She asks smirking.

"Never."

"Oh, let me introduce you."

She grabs my hand and leads me out of her bedroom.

Our moment alone made me forget that everyone was just a room away and multiple sets of eyes fell on us as we emerged hand in hand in the living room. Paige didn't seem to notice or care as she continued to lead me to the kitchen.

I locked eyes with Kelsey who was stood beside Azzi, both girls grinning cheesily, and she shot me an exaggerated wink.

Gone were the days of sneaking around.

An ungodly amount of alcohol was consumed in the girls apartment in preparation for the party and it was safe to say we were beginning to feel the effects.

"Can you walk straight and stop bumping into me!" Ice barged KK away from her as we made our way to the frat house.

"I am walking straight!" KK argued but from my view from behind the girls, it was clear she was not at all walking straight.

"OK kids, stop arguing." Kayla fake scolds, pushing herself in between Ice and KK in a attempt to stop them bickering.

I laugh at the girls and the seemingly mundane moment but being here, with them, means the world to me after losing my old friends in the worst way possible.

"You good?" Paige asks me, her arm rested comfortably over my shoulders.

I hum in response and nod my head.

"Why you so quiet then pretty girl?"

"Trying to make sure I can walk in a straight line! Those Dirty Shirleys got me good!" I laughed.

"You know I've got the best taste!" Paige bragged and the once distant sound of music grew closer as we turned a corner.

"Well, I mean yeah, you do have the best taste." I joke motioning down at myself cockily.

"Damn right." Paige agrees, removing her arm from my shoulder and slipping her hand into mine as we enter the frat house.

The house was absolutely packed with people in every room and the music was so loud I could feel the bass in my chest.

"Drinks!" Jana ordered pointing over to the makeshift bar - a kitchen island laden with various different glass bottles, stacks of red solo cups and buckets of ice.

Paige poured us what she called 'Dirty Shirleys on the go' because they didn't have her usual ingredients but she refused to drink anything else.

Most of the girls dispersed in different directions once we each had drinks in our hands but I stayed with Paige, Azzi and Aubrey and we found ourselves next in line to play beer pong.

Paige

Lily and I had taken the L in beer pong and were being forced to drink a concoction of everyones drink mixed together as our forfeit.

"Ugh! That tastes like shit!" She exclaimed, her words slurred as she swallowed down the cocktail, her face screwed up in disgust.

"I'm not doing it." I prostest, my words equally as slurred as Lilys and I cross my arms over my chest refusing to take the cup from Azzi.

"Stop being a sore loser Bueckers!" Aubrey chimed in.

"I'm not! I just don't want to throw up." The mix of shots, multiple Dirty Shirleys and now beer was already enough to make my stomach churn.

"P, there's no way I just did that and you're not going to." Lily chimes in now, hands on her hips, staring me down.

"You're really going to let your girl do that by herself?" Azzi smirks knowing that will get the better of me.

"No...hand it over." I say defeated, taking the cup from Azzi and downing the liquid inside.

"That's fucking nasty!"

"Here, wash it down with that." Lily says handing me my original cup containing my favourite drink.

The sweetness of the Shirley Temple counteracted the harshness of the alcohol mix.

"This is my favourite song!" Lily did a small jump on the spot before disappearing off into the crowd of college kids to make her way closer to the booming speakers.

I followed after the petite girl, knowing how drunk she was and not wanting her to be alone in a frat house full of random people.

It didn't take me long to catch up with her and I admired the girl from afar - who somehow already had another drink in her hand. She moved effortlessly, her hips swaying to the rhythm of the music, her hands held above her head as she sang along to the lyrics.

"Come here!" She called over the music beckoning me to come closer.

I take the few steps needed to close the space between us and Lily latches onto my waist, still dancing until our bodies are moving as one.

We stayed dancing, our hands all over each other as if we're not surrounded by a fuck tonne of other people. People that probably know who I am. People that definitely have social media and could post about what they were witnessing, but I didn't care. Lily was mine and I was hers and I didn't care who knew.

Our moment came to an abrupt halt when Lily stopped moving and shot me a panicked look, "What's wrong?" I ask confused.

"I think I'm going to be sick."

I grab her hand and quickly manoeuvre us out of the crowded room and into the front yard. There's a trash can on the lawn and Lily rushes to it, bending over the barrel and throwing up. I hold back her hair to keep it out of the firing line.

She looks up at me with watery eyes, "I think I had one too many Dirty Shirleys." She murmurs, hands resting of the edge of the trash can to steady herself.

"And the rest." I joke still holding her hair back, out of her face.

"Home?" I sympathetically ask the defeated girl and she nods.

I sit Lily on the porch steps while I go back into the party to let everyone know we're leaving. Kelsey was preoccupied with someone I recognised from the soccer team and Ice reassured me that her and the other girls would make sure she made it home safely.

I get back to Lily and she's exactly where I left her, her head rested on the porch beam, eyes closed. Even though she was extremely drunk and had just thrown up she still looked angelic as ever with the moonlight reflecting on her face, lighting up her features.

I felt bad disturbing her but we had to get home, my apartment was closest so we headed there. I kept my hand securely round her waist as I lead us away from the party.

"Do you feel like you're going to be sick again?" I ask Lily as we enter my apartment, the remnants of our pre drinks still scattered across the living room.

"No, I think I'm good now." She says softly.

I take her into my bathroom, "Stay there." I tell her and she salutes me.

I go into my bedroom and find a t-shirt and shorts for her to wear.

When I return to the bathroom, Lily's perched on the vanity attempting to remove her makeup with whatever she found, her mascara is smudged around her eyes making her resemble a panda and I laugh.

"Some help would be nice." She says handing me the cotton pad soaked in makeup remover.

I take it and she opens her legs, giving me space to move into so I can reach her. Her hands rest on my shoulders as I drag the cotton round across her face removing the last of her makeup.

"There, all done." I say placing the dirty cotton rounds down.

"Thank you Paigey." Lily coos, her hands moving from my shoulders to cup my face, "You're so pretty." She says, her eyes locked onto mine, "Have I ever told you that?"

"You've mentioned it." I smile at the drunk girl from the space inbetween her legs.

"And I mean it, you're like the prettiest girl I've ever seen."

"You're the prettiest girl I've ever seen, Lily Kent." I tell her, my hands now rested on her thighs.

"Even when I'm throwing up?" She pouts.

"Even when you're throwing up." I assure her.

I leave Lily to change into my clothes and I undress myself before getting into bed.

"I think you're just a little bit taller than me." She says emerging from the bathroom my clothes, that fit me perfectly, hanging oversized on her small frame.

"You look cute, now come get in bed." I tell her opening my arms for her to fit into like she has done so many times before.

"At least take me on a date first, Bueckers." She jokes climbing into bed next to me, her head instinctively finding my chest and arm falling over my stomach.

"Oh, I plan on." I say before pressing a kiss to Lily's head, "I'm all in."

"All in." She replies sleepily.

˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊✧˚ · .

Paige

Basketball season was fast approaching. The one month countdown to our first game was on so it was safe to say my schedule was busy. Between training, workouts, classes and work, I barely had time to do anything else. But I wasn't complaining.

I had worked hard over the summer getting as fit and healthy as possible to ensure I'd have an injury free junior year and I felt positive about it as it neared.

Now that everyone knew about me and Lily, it was easy for us to spend time with each other. If she wasn't at my apartment, I was at hers. She'd often sit in on the end of sessions so we could grab lunch together afterwards. I'd meet her after classes and we'd walk home or to the library. Sleepovers we a regular occurrence too, in fact it felt more normal when Lily was snuggled into me than when she wasn't.

Everyone in real life had grown accustomed to me and Lily but we kept things pretty lowkey on social media, never addressing the situation. We'd post a random Instagram story together here and there and we'd both appeared in each others photo dumps over the past few weeks. Lily and I decided this was best for now, she had made it clear that she didn't want to be at the mercy of my one million plus followers and I understood that perfectly. The internet had a funny way of jumping to conclusions and creating rumours and drama out of nothing and I would do everything I could to protect Lily from that.

Of course people had figured something was going on between us pretty quickly, between the minimal photos posted, Instagram comments and infamous Tiktok lives, it was hard to conceal what was really going on. But ultimately, we had nothing to hide, just our peace to protect. Our relationship was private, not a secret and that suited us.

It was Wednesday evening, I had just finished training and checked my phone before leaving the facilities to head home, Lily had text me letting me know that she was wrapping up her day working with the soccer team. They had played a match today and Lily was needed for post match interviews and behind the scenes content during the game.

Selfishly, I was jealous that Lily worked with other teams and not just mine but I knew how much she loved soccer and there was nothing better than seeing Lily happy.

I texted Lily back telling her I'd pick her up from the soccer field and I got in my car and drove the few minutes it took to get there.

"Hi pretty girl." I beamed as Lily climbed into my passenger seat. Any tiredness or irritability that had built up throughout the day completely diminished at the site of the brown haired girl.

"Hi P." She smiled back leaning her body over the centre console and kissing me.

I will never get bored of that.

"How was your day?" I asked as I began the short drive back to the apartments.

"It was good! I've missed watching soccer so it was fun to be with the team today - they're all so nice too. I like them a lot!" Lily said clearly happy at how her day had gone.

"Not as much as you like me, I hope." I joke with her and quickly glance in her direction to find her brown eyes already focused on me.

"Paige Bueckers, there isn't anyone in the entire state of Connecticut that I like as much as you." She says extending her arm to rest her hand on my thigh.

I smile at the simple sign of affection and switch to driving with one hand so I can link my other with Lilys.

"So who have I got to worry about in other states?"

"Oh I don't know, Billie Eilish is walking around somewhere in LA just waiting for me to step foot in California." She jokes.

"Is she your celebrity crush?" I ask realising we've never had this conversation.

"She was." She says simply.

"What happened?"

"I met you." She replies shooting me a small smile, eyes hooded as she looks up from her slouched position.

"Lily Kent, are you flirting with me?" I ask smirking, bringing the car to a halt outside my apartment block.

"It doesn't work when you point it out Paige." She huffs, rolling her eyes at me.

"Oh my bad, my bad!" I say in exaggerated apology, "Go again." I encourage.

She looks as if she about to argue but she doesn't.

"I met you." She repeats, the same hooded eyes looking up at me and this time instead of saying anything, I grab her face with both hands and press my lips to hers.

Lily giggles into the kiss before deepening it, her hand finding the back of my neck.

My phone, still connected to my cars bluetooth, abruptly brought us back to reality as my ringtone blasted through the speakers. Glancing at my car's display screen, I could see it was KK calling.

"Hey whats up?"

"Where are you?"

"Outside the apartment, in my car."

"Perfect! Stay there, I'm coming and we're going to Target to get Tru Fru!"

Before I could even argue with KK, I heard the door close letting me know she had already left the apartment.

"Looks like we're going to Target." I say to Lily and she seemed pretty content with our impromptu trip.

We had nothing planned for the evening, like most nights, we were just going to watch TV and have dinner together and maybe (almost definitely), Lily would end up staying over.

KK bundled into the back seat of my car and proceeded to rant the whole way to Target about how much she craved Trü Frü and how she needed every flavour and how once we got back into the car with our haul she is going to livestream a tatsetest.

Lily

KK, Paige and I had enough Trü Frü in our hands to feed the entirety of UConn.

"This has got to be enough!" Paige exclaimed as she struggled to balance the multiple tubs and packets making me laugh and then in turn I also stuggled to balance my load.

We should have got a cart.

"This is for sure enough, KK." I agreed with Paige.

"Wait, one more Piña Colada packet! Ice will like those." She says opening the large freezer with one hand and grabbing yet another pack of the frozen, chocolate covered fruit.

We carefully made out way to the checkouts each of us doing our best not to drop anything. KK paid, of course, and we left the store with three bags full of the frozen treats.

Getting back into the car, we took our respective seats, Paige in the drivers seat, me in the passenger and KK in the back.

"Y'all cool if we do some taste tests on live?" KK asked peeking her face between me and Paige, elbows rested on the console.

Paige looked to me with raised brows as if to say 'your call' and I nodded, I didn't mind.

I had been in a few of the girls' livestreams since becoming friends with them but I'd always remained pretty silent, almost like a background character. There had of course been questions about me and Paige but as a group, we ignored them and let everyone wonder.

"Here." KK hands me her phone, the live button waiting to be pressed and I prop it up on Paiges dashboard.

Paige leans over and starts the livestream and it doesn't take long for the viewer count to reach the hundreds and comments to come flying in.

The camera pointed slightly more in Paiges direction with her being almost centre of the frame and KK over her left shoulder, I sat half out of the shot, leaning in.

KK addressed her live and introduced me, "This is Lily y'all. You've seen her before." She says and I send a small wave to the camera, "Hi." And I watch as comment after comment comes in.

"Be nice." Paige interjects pointing her finger at the screen.

'hi lily!'

'how do you know the team?'

'so pretty'

'PAIGE'

'ok boom'

'her and paige for sure dating'

KK starts of her taste test and hands us each a piece of the chocolate covered fruit. We start with strawberry - my personal favourite - before making our way through five different flavours. We rank them from best to worst, bickering every now and then when we didn't agree with each other.

"Theres no way you're putting raspberry above blueberry." Paige shook her head in disbelief and I looked at KK in shock, "Yes we are."

"We already allowed you to put peach at number three when it should have been four." KK continues defending our opinion.

"I can't believe you're not backing me here, you love blueberries!" Paige says looking at me.

I hold my hands up in defence, I do love blueberries, "But raspberries are better."

"Unbelievable." She huffs knowing shes outnumbered.

I laugh and reach out a sympathetic hand and place it on Paiges shoulder, "It's OK to be wrong babe." I say and as the words leave my mouth, realisation hits and all three of our heads snap towards the propped up phone.

As if we're frozen, we all stare at the live stream and the influx of comments.

'OMG'

'yall heard that too?'

'BABE?'

'i knew it!'

'damn lily is lucky'

KK is the first to speak, "Alright..." She says bringing herself forward to be inline with me and Paige, "not too much on my girls now." She reaches out and grabs her phone bringing it close to her face so its just her in the frame, "Love y'all! Bye live!" And she ends the stream.

"I'm so sorry!" I blurt slapping a hand over my mouth. I look at Paige and her expression is hard to read until she breaks a smile and bursts out laughing, "It's fine, Lily." She says pulling me into a hug over the console.

"It's just force of habit." I say referring to the pet name.

"It's fine," She says again, this time looking into my eyes, "everyone's going to find out eventually, you're just...speeding up the process." She jokes, squeezing my hand in reassurance.

"Y'all sorry to break it you but you are not slick. You didn't fool anyone with your sneaking around so I doubt you're fooling anyone else, especially with those IG comments." KK remarks from the backseat and Paige and I laugh.

The devil works hard but fan pages work harder. By the time we're back at the girls' apartment, not only had all of my roommates sent me screen recordings of my slip up but Azzi and Nika had practically knocked us over as we walked through the door.

"Y'all couldn't be lowkey if you tried." Nika laughed as we all sat on the couches, KK proudly packing her Trü Frü into the freezer.

"We're starting to realise that." I say looking towards Paige who sat slouched behind me.

"I don't think there'll be much backlash," Azzi says, "people want you together at this point!" She continues to scroll through her phone, "Look." She turns her screen towards me and Paige and an edit of us to Taylor Swift - False God played.

Clips had been taken from livestreams, including tonight's, videos from our stories and even a few moments from the open training when Marcus and I interviewed Paige and they had been edited together with a screenshot of mine or Paiges comments on each other posts appearing every few seconds.

I blushed watching the short video and turned to Paige with red cheeks. Her hand had been toying with the hem of my shirt and her fingers gently grazing across the bottom of my back, she extended her arm out and wrapped it around my waist pulling me to her. My back was flush with her chest and I was completely encased in her arms now, "Looks like they love you already." She says into my ear before pressing a kiss to my temple.

"I hope so." I say back genuinely wanting to be liked by Paige's fans.

"They'll see how happy you make me and they'll have no choice to love you." She says pushing us up off the couch so we're standing.

We both had had long days and it was getting late and I could tell Paige was tired so it came as no surprise to me when she asked if I wanted to order Chipotle and watch Greys Anatomy.

"What are you doing on Saturday?" Paige asks as we brush our teeth, getting ready for bed.

With a mouthful of toothpaste, I shrug my shoulders.

"Well don't make any plans." I look at her confused, "I'm taking you on a date." She says proudly.

I spit the toothpaste out of my mouth and grin up at the blonde haired girl, "Really?"

"Yes, really and its a surprise so no questions." She tells me and I pout.

"Don't give me that face pretty girl." She says as she takes my hand and leads me back to her bedroom.

"But how will I know what to wear." I protest.

"You always look good, it doesn't matter." She says far to casually for my liking.

"How about a clue?" I prod giving Paige my best pout and fluttering eyelashes combo.

"How about you come lay down and watch Greys with me? This is one of my favourite episodes." She says from her place on her bed where she was laying, one hand behind her head and the other outstretched to me.

I give in and shuffle myself over to Paige and lay next to her. Her arm instinctively wraps around me and pulls me closer, so close I can smell the minty toothpaste she just used.

As we watch the episode I can see why it's one of Paiges favourites.

˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊✧˚ · .

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Naomi Kritzer's "Liberty's Daughter"

Tomorrow (November 22), I'll be joined by Vass Bednar at the Toronto Metro Reference Library for a talk about my new novel, The Lost Cause, a preapocalyptic tale of hope in the climate emergency.

There's so much sf about "competent men" running their families with entrepreneurial zeal, clarity of vision and a firm confident hand. But there's precious little fiction about how much being raised by a Heinlein dad would suuuck. But it would, and in Naomi Kritzer's Liberty's Daughter, we get a peek inside the nightmare:

https://fairwoodpress.com/store/p148/LIBERTY%27S_DAUGHTER.html

Beck Garrison is a seasteader, living on a floating platform built by libertarian cranks to get away from big government, taxes, and the idea that people owe each other care and consideration. Various kinds of market trufans have built their own fiefdoms: there's a sin city, a biotech free-for-all, a lawless Mad Max zone, and so on.

Beck's father, Paul, is some kind of local functionary. He's wealthy and respected, both a power-broker and a power in his own right. He pays for Beck to get private tutoring (no public schools – no public anything) and if she needs bailing out from some kind of sticky situation, he's got her on his account with Alpha Dogs, the toughest mercenaries on the sea (no police, either). An armed society is a polite society, after all.

Beck has a job, naturally (there ain't no such thing as a free lunch). She's a finder: for all that the steaders worship commerce as a sacrament consecrated to the holy Invisible Hand, there's not a lot of retail at sea. California – the nearest onshore neighbor – has lots of pesky taxes, and besides, it's a long ways off. Besides, space is at a premium on the stead, so people don't have attics and basements to fill with excess consumer junk.

Instead, when a steader needs something – a shoelace, a fashion accessory, or any other creature comfort – they hire a finder like Beck to clamber around between the decks of the aircraft carriers, scows, yachts and other vessels comprising the stead. It's a good way for Beck to earn spending money, and she's a natural at it. After all, she's been a steader since she was four, when her mother died in a drunk driving accident and her father took her to sea.

The story opens with a finding job. Beck wants a pair of sparkly shoes for her client, and the woman who owns them is an indentured servant whose sister has gone missing. Find the sister, get the shoes.

Indentured servant? Yeah, of course. Freedom of contract is the one freedom from which all the others flow, so you can sell yourself into bond labor. Hell, maybe you can earn enough to buy a share in the stead and become a co-owner/citizen.

This is the setup for Beck's adventure, which sees her liberating bond slaves tricked into fatal work details, getting involved in reality TV production, meeting illegal IWW organizers, and becoming embroiled in a pandemic that threatens the lives of all the steaders. It's a coming of age novel, told with the same straightforward, spunky zeal of Heinlein's juvies, but from the perspective of the daughter, not the dad.

Kritzer makes it clear that growing up under the thumb of a TANSTAAFL-worshipping, self-regarding, wealthy autocrat who worships selfishness as the necessary precondition for market clearing would be a goddamned nightmare. She also thinks through some of the important implications of life in one of these offshore libertarian archipelagos, like the fact that the wealthy residents would be overwhelming drawn from the ranks of corporate criminals and tax-cheats, and the underclass would be bail-skipping proles ensnared in the War on Drugs.

But Liberty's Daughter isn't a hymn to big government. Most of the steaders are escaping the US government, a state whose authoritarian and cruel proclivities are well-documented. Kritzer uses the labor dispute at the core of the novel to reveal market authoritarianism – the coercive power that hunger and poverty transfers from the have-nots to the haves. Think of Anatole France's wry observation that "the law, in its majestic equality, equally forbids the rich as well as the poor to sleep under bridges, to beg in the streets, and to steal bread."

If you're familiar with Kritzer's work, you won't be surprised to learn that she tells a zippy, fast moving tale that smuggles in sharp observations about the cleavage lines between solidarity and selfishness. Her story "So Much Cooking" – published years before the pandemic – captured life under lockdown with eerie prescience:

https://pluralistic.net/2020/04/17/pack-of-knaves/#so-much-cooking

More recently, her "Better Living Through Algorithms" is a dazzling display of knifework that'll cut you a dozen times before you even notice that you're bleeding:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/05/02/wunderkammer/#jubillee

If you habitually read Kritzer's short fiction, Liberty's Daughter might be familiar to you, as it is adapted from a series of stories that originally ran in The Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction. Kritzer's YA debut, Catfishing on the CatNet, was also adapted from a short story, "Cat Pictures Please," which won the Hugo Award in 2016:

https://boingboing.net/2019/11/19/setec-astronomy-kitteh.html

"Libertarian exit" – buying a country, or an archipelago, or just a luxury bunker – has been in the air lately. It's a major element of my new novel, The Lost Cause, which came out this month – anarchocapitalist wreckers try to sabotage the Green New Deal from the seastead they've moored to the tallest point in the drowned Grand Caymans and declared to be a sovereign nation:

https://us.macmillan.com/books/9781250865939/the-lost-cause

Kritzer is great at catching that zeitgeist. Seasteading is part of a long, bitter dream of a certain kind of selfish person to escape society, a tale told in lurid and fascinating detail in Raymond Craib's 2022 history Adventure Capitalism:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/06/14/this-way-to-the-egress/#terra-nullius

There's a longstanding joke to the effect that you can shut down any discussion of the merits of a libertarian exit by asking three questions about the brave new world:

Whether you can sell your organs;

Whether you can sell yourself into slavery; and

Whether there is any age of consent.

Kritzer tackles the first two, but tacks around the third. Instead, by giving us a young adult protagonist who has been raised in a rusting libertopia, she finds a decidedly less incendiary way to think about the role of autonomy in adolescents, and thus generates far more light than heat.

The result is a cracking read with a sting in its tail.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/11/21/podkaynes-dad-was-a-dick/#age-of-consent