#they already responded and asked a question about whether i need them packaged in a specific way

[honeybeeofficial]

ordered sixteen thousand wood beads from a random supplier in china (off alibaba. i do not have the ability to just Find That.). insane statement. fingers crossed for no surprise billion dollar import fees or lost packages ^_^

[capybaramurdock]

Red Ring Series ♡Chapter Fourteen♡

“The Menu and the Misunderstanding” (Matt POV – 13 Days Until the Wedding)

"You didn’t have to make a scene, but you could’ve said something. Anything. She’s not asking you to fight her father physically. She just needed to know you were on her side."

Summary: The wedding menu tasting is supposed to be a simple event—just one more task checked off the long list. But when she suggests a dish with deep personal meaning, hoping to share a memory of her mother, her father quickly shuts her down. And Matt? Matt says nothing.

She offered him something small but tender. And when she needed him most, he stayed silent.

And Karen, once again, is a true MVP.

⚠️Warnings⚠️️: ~ Emotional hurt/comfort ~ Silent treatment/emotional withdrawal ~ Parental emotional manipulation (mild) ~ Mention of deceased parent (mother) ~ Brief reference to food insecurity ~ One (1) Catholic man spiraling in guilt™

Series Masterlist | Next Chapter

Want to read on ao3? Available there too! 🫶🏻

The next day, the two of them find themselves in one of her father's cars on the way to a fancy, uppity resort that offers catering somewhere upstate to taste and pick out their options for the menu. Usually, the ride would feel long and tedious. But today, she’s bright. Chattier than usual.

“So, I know Karen described my dress to you a little bit. It’s mostly white, but, as she said, it has embroidered wildflowers along the bottom, waist, and sleeves. The colors are very autumnal. Do you think you’d want to wear a suit that’s white with details to match the wildflowers or a black suit with details to match the wildflowers?”

He tilts his head at the question, considering it. “Hmm…” he hums, signaling he’s listening. A moment passes before he responds.

“Since they’re autumnal colors, instead of black or white, what about gray… oh, or brown? Perhaps a darker brown? Do you think either of those would match? I always think of brown when I think of Autumn, like when I could see leaves as a kid.”

Her breath catches slightly, a subtle yet unmistakable sign to him. There’s a spark of energy in the way her voice lifts with excitement.

“Oh! I think a dark brown would match perfectly, actually! Who knew you were such a fashionista, huh?”

And then she giggles. A soft, warm sound that practically wraps around him.

God, he’s so done for with her.

He chuckles genuinely, nudging her playfully. “Are you really telling me that after all this time, seeing me in my spiffy, coordinated lawyer suits, you’re just now realizing how much of a true man of fashion I am?”

Another giggle. And that’s it—he’s warm all over.

“Oh yes, I can’t believe I forgot how much of a diva you are, Matt!”

The rest of the drive is filled with light teasing and gentle laughter, the kind that soaks into your ribs and settles there.

When they arrive at the resort, her father’s voice greets them, and Matt notes the smugness tucked beneath the pleasantry, faint but undeniable. He knows that tone. It grates like a whisper behind a mask.

They’re escorted into the restaurant area, and just before they reach the table, she tugs at his hand.

Then, she laces her fingers with his.

Her pulse is quick beneath his thumb, jittery and tense. Whether from her father’s presence or the boldness of reaching for him, he doesn’t know. But he wants to ground her.

He gives her hand a gentle squeeze, and when they reach the table, he pulls out her chair for her. Small things. Anchoring things.

As they settle in, one of the event staff offers menus. A voice apologizes—no braille menu available.

But before Matt can respond, she’s already jumped in, quietly beginning to read the offerings to him. Her voice is calm and patient, touching each word and pausing in certain spots like she’s laying down stones for him to walk across.

She reads through the arrival station of the diamond package. He can tell she’s scanning ahead—her cadence changes, a pause, a more extended breath.

She shifts slightly in her seat before addressing her father.

“All of these entrée options sound nice. The beef striploin and spiced rack of lamb would probably do well… but do you think… could we maybe see if the chefs would do a chicken parmesan dish for one of the options, y’know, for—”

She’s cut off mid-thought.

“Absolutely not,” her father says, dismissive and sharp. “That’s way too simple and not on brand enough for this wedding. I’m already letting you have a simple aspect by having it in that corner church. Your menu has to be elegant enough, at least.” He laughs—a dry, cruel sound that echoes in the room. “And really? Chicken parmesan? That sounds like something to be served to a child. Or as a special at a soup kitchen.”

There’s the soft scrape of a pen as the event planner strikes the dish from their notepad. The suggestion is gone, a stark reminder of her father's actual control over the wedding planning.

Her heartbeat stutters. She swallows hard. And then…she turns toward him.

She doesn’t say anything, but he can feel it—a silent plea for support, an expectation.

He offers a small, careful smile. But says nothing.

He reaches out, trying to offer comfort with his touch, to close the distance in a way he couldn’t with words.

But she doesn’t respond.

Her fingers remain still in his for a beat…and then slowly slip away.

She nods politely to her father. Doesn’t argue. Doesn’t fight. Just…goes quiet.

The rest of the tasting moves forward. They sample hors d���oeuvres, a plated salad, and several entrée options. She reads descriptions when needed and answers when prompted. But her voice is thinner now. Mechanical.

When the menu is finalized and repeated back to them, Matt has to nudge her slightly.

She startles—just a fraction—before murmuring, “Yeah, that all sounds lovely, thank you.”

As soon as they’re dismissed, she bolts out the door in a blink, her bag rustling as she digs for her phone.

She still tells the staff goodbye politely. But her tone’s different. Dimmed.

Matt shifts in his seat, unease creeping under his skin. He tries to push it down. It’s just food, right?

And he can convince himself of that, even when she hardly speaks to him in the car on the way back, only giving him polite responses. 

He continues to think that until they make it back to the apartment.

She disappears into the bathroom. The sound of the shower kicks on, and then his phone rings.

Karen.

She starts in on him before he even has a chance to realize what she's talking about. 

“Matt, what did you do?”

He frowns immediately at Karen’s sharp tone, sitting up straighter on the couch.

“I… I genuinely don’t know. What did I do? I didn’t even know I had done anything.”

He hears her sigh over the line. Not exasperated—just disappointed. Tired.

“She texted me.”

Matt’s brows draw together. “Texted you?”

Karen’s voice is a little gentler now, but it doesn’t lose its weight. “Almost right after you all finished, but before you left. She said she didn’t want to make a big deal out of it, but I could tell something was wrong. Her message was short. Polite. I asked how it went, and she just said it was ‘fine.’”

Matt leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees.

“It was fine,” he says softly. “Her father shut down a suggestion she made, that’s all. I didn’t think—”

“Matt,” Karen cuts in, voice firm now, “she suggested something sentimental. Something personal. I could tell just from the way she typed about it. She was excited. Nervous. And you let him laugh at her. Shut her down. Called it childish. And you didn’t say a word.”

Matt swallows hard. His jaw clenches. “I didn’t want to escalate anything. It didn’t seem worth—”

“It was worth it to her.”

Karen’s voice cracks slightly, just enough to hurt.

“You didn’t have to make a scene, but you could’ve said something. Anything. She’s not asking you to fight her father physically. She just needed to know you were on her side.”

Matt is silent for a beat too long.

Then, quietly: “I didn’t realize it meant that much.”

Karen exhales slowly. “Matt…she was gonna explain why it mattered.”

He stills, every muscle tensing. “What do you mean?”

“I asked her,” Karen says gently. “After she texted me. She told me she was going to explain the reason behind the dish, that it was somehow tied to her mom. But her dad cut her off and steamrolled over her before she could finish the sentence.”

Matt’s brow furrows. His voice is soft, almost pleading. “Karen, I didn’t know. I—I didn’t realize it was about her mom.”

Karen snaps—just a little, her voice growing even firmer. Not out of anger, but from hurt for her. “Even if you didn’t, Matt, come on. I'm sure you could hear it in her voice, how damn excited she was, and how nervous she was to ask. That should’ve been enough. You didn’t need the backstory to know it meant something. I know you had to have sensed it in that moment.”

His jaw clenches, breath catching.

Karen softens again, this time quieter. “She was trusting you with something tender. Something that still aches.”

Silence.

“She doesn’t offer things like that lightly. And if she was tying that dish to a memory of her mom? Matt, that wasn’t just a suggestion. That was a piece of her.”

Another pause.

“You don’t have to be perfect. But you can’t be silent when it matters. Not with her.”

He leans back slowly, running a hand over his face.

“She pulled away from me,” he admits, voice quiet and ragged. “I tried to hold her hand, I thought what her father said was rude and was trying to comfort her about that, and she just…let go.”

There’s a long pause on Karen’s end. Then:

“Because she felt alone in that moment. Because she was.”

Silence.

“She’s still in the shower,” Matt murmurs after a while, guilt pooling in his chest like lead. “She hasn’t really spoken since.”

Karen softens, just a little. “Then make it right.”

Matt’s brows pull together. “How?”

“I don’t know,” she says honestly. “But if you want her to keep trusting you, if you want her to stay, you need to show her that her feelings matter. That she matters. More than keeping the peace. More than politeness. More than optics.”

Karen sighs before she adds. “You’ve still got time to show her that you see her in your own way. That you care.”

There’s silence on the other end.

Matt’s voice is quiet. “…Yeah. Okay.”

“I’ve gotta run,” she says gently. “But just think about what matters to her. That’s where you’ll find your answer.”

The call ends.

Matt stands there for a long moment, the phone still in his hand, the silence around him pressing in.

And then it hits him.

That moment—just days ago—when they sat going over the guest list in the kitchen.

Her voice had gone soft. “My mom passed when I was young, too. It was part of what caused my dad to become…what he is now.”

He hadn’t pushed and hadn’t asked for more. But he remembers the way she said it. Like it hurt. Like it shaped everything that came after.

And now, oh God.

Chicken parmesan.

She wasn’t just suggesting something she liked.

She was seeking a sense of comfort, for a memory. A part of her mother, she wanted to be present that day.

And he hadn’t said a damn thing.

His throat goes tight. Guilt rolls over him in a wave, hollow and immediate.

He hears the faucet of the shower shut off; he grabs his phone and dials as fast as he can, before he can even think.

Foggy barely has time to say “hello” before Matt blurts:

“Do you know how to make chicken parmesan?”

A/N: Here is the wedding dress for those that were curious!!

[fastrevenuecoaching]

Coach Via Email

How To Coach Via Email by Rob Goyette

Video Coaching is a clever way to coach via email and is yet another way that you can package up your coaching.

It's irresistible to clients and it's not what it sounds like.

Essentially, Video Coaching is coaching clients through email, but making video replies for them, which feel a lot more valuable than, say, a text email.

The way that I came up with this is several years ago I had a client who told me he was going to have to give up coaching because he took on a full-time job and there wouldn't be time to do both.

And when he told me a little bit more about this job he took on, he said he'd be on the road traveling a lot.

And the idea occurred to me that if he was going to be in his car anyway, maybe he could coach on the phone while he was driving (if he was comfortable with that), and perhaps offer his current clients a lower price if they were okay with him coaching while driving.

And this was a home run idea.

Well, it occurred to me in my own coaching practice that I was having a lot of phone calls, a lot of Laser Coaching calls - and really, filling up those spots on my calendar was okay, but I sure preferred getting back to people through email versus scheduling calls.

And I realized that I was already kind of supporting people by emailing their questions, whether they were a client or not.

And I thought, I wonder if there's some kind of way that, just like my client who was able to coach while he was driving, if I could coach via email.

In other words, if I could actually charge clients to respond to their emails, but in a way that feels valuable, in a way that uses video instead of just text.

And so I came up with the idea of Video Coaching, and I had recently created Laser Coaching, which is unlimited 15-minute calls.

And I thought, I wonder if I offered a year of Unlimited Video Coaching, what that would look like?

And so I packaged it together, and it's different than Laser Coaching.

Laser Coaching is where people can have a 15-minute call with you, they do their homework and then they can schedule another one.

And I thought, what would make the Video Coaching super irresistible to people?

And the idea that I came up with was to, instead of telling them that they had to do homework before they could get back to me, to just make it totally Unlimited.

They could email me as much as they like, meaning reach out as much as they like, and I would coach via email and get back to them within 24 hours.

And the big benefits there, especially if they understood Laser Coaching, is that number one, they didn't have to wait and find a spot on my calendar.

Anytime they needed some support, they could reach out to me right away.

And the other thing is that there was no homework rule, so therefore it didn't slow them down.

They could reach out several times a day if they wished.

I don't think anybody did.

Most people were pretty respectful with it.

They'd reach out, wait for me to respond, and then they'd reach out again.

But what pleasantly surprised me is that people did use it a lot during their first month, just like with Laser Coaching, but it really slowed down after that.

So it was an irresistible program to offer, especially if your audience, or if my audience, has been exposed to Laser Coaching.

If they understand how great Laser Coaching is and then they see this by comparison, they realize there's no homework rule and they can get support a lot faster, it becomes irresistible to them.

And it was irresistible to me because it didn't take up a spot on my calendar, and I could have a lazy morning and reply to emails in the afternoon or the evening, or have a lazy evening and reply the next morning.

My goal was to get back to them within one business day.

That way I didn't have to go over the weekends - though, I really tried to get back to everybody within 24 hours.

And so it was a home run.

In fact, I even had some Laser Coaching clients ask if they could switch over to the Video Coaching model.

And the great thing about Video Coaching is that, just like with Laser Coaching, you can sell it without strategy sessions and simply coach via email.

So this means you could literally sell and coach to clients without getting on a zoom call.

And this is just so awesome for us as coaches to be able to run our business from behind our keyboard without getting on zoom calls, in this case.

So if you'd like to learn more about this Unlimited Video Coaching model so you can coach via email, you can go here:  https://tgy426.isrefer.com/go/T3/S27/

Thanks for reading this article.

And remember, Getting Clients Is All About Trust And An Irresistible Offer.

https://tgy426.isrefer.com/go/T3/S27/

[chaisarinawat]

Chai nervously shifted onto his knees, keeping his eyes away from Khun Dan out of both embarrassment for having once again fallen in front of him like this, and because he found it hard to maintain the contact in the first place. In an instant, his hackles were raised. He hadn't seen Khun Dan in a while, and actually wasn't even expecting to with all the new departments he had been moved to. A lot of the hands-on activities were pretty far from the meeting rooms and Khun Dan's office, so he had been hoping to avoid him for a long time.

Khun Dan asked if he was okay and apologised, and Chai glanced up, offering a single nod in response, not confident in saying anything back. Khun Dan said a lot of things, but Chai wasn't even sure if he meant them. He was so so so confused. Chai thought Khun Dan was a good boss, even if he was strict or shouted at him sometimes, but after what happened in Japan and the onsen his perceptions shifted Chai couldn't understand how his boss could saving him from Japanese businessmen trying to take advantage of him, but then turn around and copy that very same behaviour not even one day later...

Picking up his things, Chai didn't bother organising them in any particular order since he wanted to get away from Khun Dan quickly, even if he knew it would bite him in the butt later.

"How's - the mail room?" Khun Dan asked, helping Chai pick up his dropped packages, even though Chai didn't want his help.

Could he just ignore his boss' question? N-no, he supposed that wasn't smart, if Khun Dan got angry at him for it. He had already been moved so much and he didn't know where he'd end up next if he was kicked out of the mail room. "It's... nice. Quiet. Easy." Boring, Chai didn't add, willing himself to be appreciative of the opportunity. At least he was mostly alone, and nobody could touch him. Khun Dan couldn't touch him.

"Is Uncle Maew treating you right?"

Chai glanced up, noticing the small smile on Khun Dan's face at the mention of the older worker. He forgot, sometimes, that Khun Dan grew up in this company. That it belonged to his family. A lot of people had so many good things to say about Khun Dan, especially the older staff members who had watched him grow up. P'Rachi had told him the same, that Khun Dan would be a good boss to him. Chai... used to be able to say nice things too. Now, he just kept his mouth shut. Especially to P'Rachi. His self-proclaimed mommy had been trying to get in contact with him, but Chai had felt so ashamed about being in such a predicament with his friend's childhood friend that he hadn't been responding.

"Yeah, Khun. Everyone's been really nice, even though I kind of... u-uh... I messed up a lot..." Chai said with a wince. "But that's okay... I'm learning."

Getting up off of the floor, Chai hesitantly accepted the mail from Khun Dan, who apologised again and offered to use the stairs. Chai was trying to avoid Khun Dan but after hearing that... it looked like his boss was trying to avoid him too.

It's for the best, Chai told himself. He still couldn't even look Khun Dan in the eye for a long time. Working under him in these conditions would be hell.

"O-okay Khun. Thank you." Noticing the paperwork in Khun Dan's hand, Chai debated with himself whether he should offer to take it or not since he'd probably be going there anyway. He didn't really want to help Khun Dan, but it would show that he was still willing to work despite the a weird situation between them. "Khun, does that need to be delivered? I can take that if you want. I'm visiting all the departments so it'll be on my way. You... probably have other stuff to do, right?" Chai finally asked, thinking that would be the extent of his interactions with Khun Dan at the company these days. He... he could be comfortable with that, if that was it.

distance

Timeline: 2024 October 14th, Monday, midday Location: Dragon Entertainment Office, Bangkok Mood: Stressed, discouraged, worried Attire: See this post. Baby boy is in oversized clothing and a more relaxed fit, since he's been banished to the mail room With: @ippotis Music: N/A

Chai was stressed - but then again, these days, when was he not? He had become so familiar with the feeling because it followed him around all day and all night, keeping him on his toes and also weighing heavily on his mind. The young man was always rushing, trying to prove himself worthy of holding down a good job, because he couldn't afford to leave Dragon Entertainment - even if, every day, there was a chance he would bump into him.

Khun Dan hadn't fired Chai after the Japan trip almost a month ago, but was very obviously putting distance between them. Since... the onsen incident... Khun Dan had been virtually absent from Chai's life.

Chai went to work as normal on the Monday after his arrival back to Thailand, nervous about what was going to happen now between himself and Khun Dan, only to be told by his boss that he'd be moving to a different department in the company. He was no longer needed as Khun Dan's assistant.

Chai was conflicted about that. On the one hand, he was relieved; Khun Dan had apologised to him in Japan, but they hadn't talked about what transpired, because Chai had been a wreck. But now they were back in Thailand, and they still hadn't talked, leaving everything kinda... unfinished. And he wouldn't even know how to face Khun Dan everyday after what happened, if they didn't talk about it - not that Chai was going to bring it up. No way. He was terrified of confrontation. He had also decided not to file any kind of complaint or report against his boss. For everything that went wrong at the onsen, he didn't think Khun Dan was a monster like other men he knew. If he was, then Chai believed that more would have occurred in that hot spring. Still, not having some kind of resolution kept Chai in an anxious state, so having a job away from Khun Dan would definitely help settle his nerves.

The other part of Chai though... felt like he had failed. He failed himself, he failed Khun Dan, and he failed his P'Rachi. This was one of the best jobs he had had in terms of prestige and income, and Chai had been getting so much better at it. He hadn't had the experience, but was still lucky enough to have the chance to work it because of his mommy Rachi, and now it was gone.

Instead of being Khun Dan's assistant, Chai had been moved elsewhere - set and costuming, because they needed extra hands. He worked his best, as he always did, but on his third day he tripped over a paint bucket and fell through one of the backdrops, ripping it straight down the middle and getting himself and his colleagues covered in paint. The next day, he was moved to the script-writing room; but after he accidentally jammed the photocopier and then mixed up the order of the scripts, he was moved again. Then again. Then again. Until finally, Chai was put away in the mail room. He... he didn't even know mail rooms still existed these days...

At least it was... just him. Nobody else would be caught in his accidental line of fire. But Chai didn't know who half the employees were in this place, so it was taking him time to deliver everything - and he knew that was pissing people off.

Trying to be quicker, Chai was rushing down the corridors while staring at the names on the envelops before he bumped into someone's back. Like some kind of goofy cartoon - and in true clumsy Chai fashion - the young man fell back on his ass with an eep! with his papers and envelops thrown out of his hands and scattered on the floor.

"S-sorry!" Chai said to the person in front of him, immediately giving them a wai. "I didn't hurt you did I- o-oh... Khun Dan..."

Chai didn't know who he offended in a past life to be so unlucky. Because the person he had collided with was none other than his old boss - who he hadn't seen in a while...

[silverdelirium]

hi! can you do one where draco and the reader are married (don’t make them old please make them like the married rich pretty milf and dilf couple), and they have a daughter. anyway, draco is out because of work/something else (it’s up to u) and the reader is with their daughter and they get into a small fight and the daughter says something really bad/hurtful to the reader (her mother) and the reader like gets sad (make it bad so it can be dramatic😏) and when draco gets home he finds the reader like crying (smoking too bc a milf smoking is hot but if you don’t want to add it it’s fine) and yeah basically the rest is up to you :)) ily hope ur well and fine. <3

CIGARETTES & INSECURITIES | D.M

thank you hoe @selenesheart for helping me with the title ily

warnings: anxiety, lowkey panic attack, insecurities of being a bad mother, mean child, smoking, angst w a happy ending

———

draco’s hurried steps were heard echoing across the hallway as he rapidly made his way downstairs, cussing his boss out under his breath for calling him on a fucking Sunday. the same sunday he was about to spend basking in the love of his wife and child, all expectations now turned to mush.

“i’m sorry i have to go, my love. call me if you need anything, okay?” spoke draco, tone soft as he held your face in his hands, giving you one last sad smile before pressing a sweet kiss on your lips.

you gave him a feeble nod in response with a reassuring smile, watching him storm off in long strides, still swearing in hushed whispers and with a flick of his wand, he was gone.

you instantly took notice of how intense the atmosphere got around the manor- almost scary. deadly quiet with your four-year-old toddler still asleep and big curtains blocking any sunlight from coming in.

it almost caused goosebumps to rise on your arms as if the universe was already warning you of the day you were gonna have to deal with today.

maybe the first bad thing to happen today was being woken up by draco’s phone going off like crazy with calls of his boss and endless text messages of his colleagues.

it didn’t matter though, you had other things to worry about. your toddler was already walking down the stairs with a sleepy stare as she made her way to you, immediately taking notice of how there was no trace of draco, and looking around for any signs of her father.

“hi there” you greeted, giving her a sympathetic smile when she asked for draco, her small body already wrapped around your torso. a small sigh with a brief explanation of a work emergency was given to her. her sour mood amplifying a tenfold for every word that left your mouth.

she stayed quiet for a moment, and just as you started beaming at the thought of calming a daddy’s girl- she sobbed heavily in your ear, clinging hard to you but still screaming for draco.

a grimace found its way to your face along with a sorrowful expression as you shushed her down, tracing your fingers down her spine; a small trick you always did to relax her in days like this.

her sobs quieted down but she still cried silently in your shoulder, hot tears rolling down her face that had you questioning whether you should call your husband or not, the thought accompanying the insecurity of being a terrible mother who can barely keep her child tranquil.

after a few minutes of letting her pour all her emotions out, you made a path to the kitchen and sat her down on the barstool, wiping her tears away as she huffed in what seemed to be an angry expression.

“would you like some breakfast, baby?” you spoke, tone soft and slow as to not aggravate the situation.

“i want daddy”

“he’s- he’s not here right now” you tried to reason, watching as she took a deep breath but said nothing.

you turned around to head for the stove. but your ears caught a small murmur of “you’re the worst” coming from none other than your daughter.

a thunder-struck look adorned your face, blinking back the tears that found their way to your waterline.

ever since you found out you were pregnant, the anxiousness of being a not good enough mom had filled you in seconds, thinking of the worst scenarios possible throughout the pregnancy. draco was always there to ease your nerves a bit, yet, never quite pushing them away completely.

and jesus- did that simple three-word sentence stung painfully at your heart.

you stayed frozen in place for a few moments before taking a deep breath and quickly collecting yourself, continuing your errands around the kitchen as you made an effort to ignore the way your hands became clammy and heartstrings were pulled harshly in your chest.

the rest of the day went painfully slow, your daughter completely ignoring you and just curling up on the couch or playing in her room, always slamming the door in your face whenever you attempted to talk to her. your back also aching from having to do all house chores by yourself. every once in a while getting a text message from draco, rushed typos of “i love you” and “i’m gonna be there soon”.

——

the clock read 6:07 P.M and you held the cigarette to your lips with shaky fingers, tears blurring your vision as all the frustration from today came crashing down at once.

sobs rocked through your body as you inhaled the smoke and blew it out past your nostrils. warm, thick tears not coming to a halt even once.

your cries muffled every sound around you. not taking notice of draco who was now frantically searching for you, already finding your daughter safe and asleep on the couch. yet you were nowhere to be found.

it took one look at the cigarette package on the dining table for draco to locate you. he knew about your anxiety and how bad it got when triggered.

his heart ached and fists clenched at his side as he turned to his baby girl, snuggling her deeper into the thick fluffy blanket before making his way to the porch where you sat with a hand to your sternum, big clouds of smoke fogging the air around you.

“oh, baby” he sympathized, not giving you time to react as he enveloped you in a big hug, feeling the way your curled your fists on his shirt and sobbed quietly, taking ragged breaths every once in a while.

after a few minutes of taking shallow breaths, you pulled your head back from his chest, just enough to stare at his face, his bright grey eyes running down every feature you had, almost like he was studying it.

“what happened today?” he whispered, closing his eyes and connecting his forehead with yours.

you released a breath through your nose and lit off the cigarette on the small table next to you before explaining every small detail from today to draco, a few tears escaping at some points.

once you were done, draco removed his head from yours, pulling back and displaying both of his palms on your cheeks, observing your tear-stained face made him ache with sorrow.

“my love” he started “you are the world’s greatest mother to ever exist, a bad day with your child does not define your abilities as a mom. she loves you, we all do. you don’t know how fuzzy she gets when you’re not here.”

his words made a small smile crack through your lips, buzzing nerves slowly weighing down after every syllable he spoke.

“we would all be doomed if it wasn’t for you. every parent has a bad day, do not beat yourself up for it, it happens to the best of us.” he finalized, chest swelling with pride once he saw how you were full-on beaming, puckering your lips like a silent sign for a kiss which he gladly provided.

“i love you” you mumbled against his mouth.

“i love you more” he responded.

———

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[hereforhalstead]

Period Pains

*Gif not mine, credits to the owner*

• Pairing: Jay Halstead x Reader.

• Requested: Nope! Just fancied some soft!Jay

• Warnings: pure fluff besties 

• Summary: Jay looks after you as you experience a rough period, unlike anything you’ve felt before. 

• Words: 2482.

• A/N : When I tell you this is the ugliest thing I’ve ever written lmao. I’m so weak for soft!Jay at the moment and had just came on my period when i started this  a few weeks ago.. I have a few ongoing requests at the moment that I’m working on, promise I’m not ignoring them but I just don’t want to post them until I’m happy with them! 

Hope you enjoy!

You notice the bed beside you dip with Jay’s weight as he joins you, fresh from the shower as you feel the heat radiating from him. You attempt to shift and face him, craving the feeling of having your head against his chest with the rhythm of his heartbeat soothing you to sleep. You wince as a cramp hits your stomach, slinging your arm across your stomach as a natural reflex for when the wave of pain arises. 

Jay places a hand on the edge of your shoulder, gripping round your skin as he moves your hair to one side to place a delicate kiss to the exposed shoulder blade “Stay facing that way, I’ll be able to rub your stomach” he whispers into the nape of your neck and causing a shiver to run down your spine at the softness of his words. 

You happily do as you’re told, still in somewhat of a half consciousness as you doze in and out of sleep with the thought of knowing he was there beside you helping the pain drift away. 

“Life your hips for me baby” he softly demands, encouraging you to lift your side for just a few seconds to allow him to slip his arm under you to rest a hand on your stomach “You’re burning up” he tuts, removing the hot water bottle you had pressed against you and placing it on the the other side of the bed “Don’t want you getting too warm, you’ll make yourself ill”. 

His firm tone made your heart flutter, he always had your best interests at heart and made the smallest of actions seem natural to him. You’d happily let yourself curl up under a blanket with a hot water bottle until you were burning hot but it would always leave you feeling faint and you’d end up cooling off in a cold bath or shower which really defeated the object..

You laid in a comfortable silence with Jay, cursing under your breath as another wave of pain hit "Why am I a girl” you mocked, digging your head further into your pillow as some form of distraction. Jay would take it in his stride, dropping a kiss to your back and chuckling as you swear under your breath to take your mind off the intense cramps. 

The motion of Jay rubbing his hand softly over your stomach didn’t stop, you expected it to after a while but it never did. He was constantly tracing shapes across your skin, running his fingernails back and forth under your shirt and laughing as you occasionally flinched if it tickled. Whether it was a placebo affect or not, the cramps would ease under his touch and helped you get a brief moment of sleep. 

You awoke just under an hour later to an empty bed, turning over to see the covers thrown back and Jay’s side of the bed vacant made your heart sink. He was the one helping you through this and even though the painkillers had kicked in, you still missed him just being beside you.

You would often be the first one up in the mornings, heading to the gym before work or just wanting to be awake to make him a morning coffee meant you weren’t used to being in bed alone. He was always there with you, even when you teased him for how long the pair of you would spend in bed on your days off, you loved it and wouldn’t want it any other way. 

In replacement of Jay’s hand, you must’ve reached for the hot water bottle in your sleep and that was a mistake. You were now sweating, the clothes clinging to your skin as it glistens with sweat, feeling clamy and gross wasn’t what you needed right now.

Trudging over to the bathroom and catching a glimpse of yourself in the mirror was an instant regret, you were hunched to try and relieve the cramps, hair disheveled and your body was covered in red blotches from the hot water bottle. If you didn’t feel horrendous before, you did now. 

You always worried in your relationship that you weren’t good enough for Jay, he woke up and looked perfect, would finish an intense workout and look like a sports model or even concentrating on some paperwork he would look flawless and here you were looking the complete opposite.

You let out a deep sigh, running your fingers through your hair in some attempt to regain a sense of decency but there was no point. Your feelings were being intensified from your period and leaving you feeling worse than ever, wanting to curl up in bed and cry was seeming most appealing but before you can enjoy a good ole pity cry you hear the keys turning in the lock.

Quickly wiping the tears from your face and using Jay’s tshirt that you were currently wearing to try and remove the stains from your cheek was useless, you panicked. Jay seemed to have unnatural ability to tell when you’re not feeling yourself, and this is no exception. Just from taking one look at you he’d be able to tell you were upset and you didn’t want that to be the case, you’d already had a pity day and the last thing he needed was to see you were feeling worse. 

You chugged some water that he had left on the side and took another glance at yourself in the mirror, the red blotches had made their way to your neck so were now much more visible and your normal cheery smile was no where to be seen. 

“Baby?” you hear Jay call out, rustling around with some bags in the kitchen before making his way over to the room you shared. You were sat on the edge of the bed with your arms folded across your stomach, leant forward in pain as you rested your head on your knees.

His heart pulled at the sight, you were in pain and there was nothing he could do about it. He prided himself on always doing whatever he could to help you in any given situation and not being able to take away the hurt was killing him. He’d helped you through many periods in the past but this was the worst one by far, you’d be able to take some paracetamol and carry on but this was defeating you.

You barely had a chance to respond before you heard the footsteps getting louder as he made his way towards you, letting out a deep sigh as he sees you scrunched over in pain. The noise of bags rustling comes to a stop as he crouches down in front of you, resting his hand on the back of your neck and the other on your knee to hold himself steady as he balances.

“What happened baby?” his smooth voice was music to your ears, he didn’t even have to do anything and he was already soothing you more than you ever could. You sniffed before bringing your attention onto him, watching as his eyes soften when he see’s the redness in your cheeks and the hurt in your gaze. 

“Nothing” you lie through your teeth, already knowing he won’t fall for it but thinking it was worth a shot. Instead of giving you the normal ‘are you forgetting how well I know you?’ speech, he simply tilted his head to the side and lifted his hand to rest on the side of your face with a doting look “We’ll talk about it later”.

You were grateful for how well he knew you, knowing not to push you and that you weren’t in the mood to be interviewed like a suspect. Normally you loved it, thinking it was cute how he always craved to prove how well he knew you and could tell you were off just by a simple look but in doing this he knew best to leave it until you were ready. 

“Did you have to go back to work?” you question, still absentmindidly leaning into Jay’s touch as he gently moves his thumb back and forth to caress your cheekbone. A simple shake of his head made you smile, you were secretly hoping you’d have him to yourself so when you awoke to the empty bed you just assumed he’d been called in. 

You couldn’t hide the frown that formed as he removed his hand and stood in front of you, reaching for something on the bed as you stayed hunched over below him. “I got your favourite ice cream” he comments, holding the tub out to you with a grin spreading on his face as your eyes light up “I thought they stopped selling it?” you questioned, already peeling off the plastic from the lid. 

“They did in our local, I asked around and drove to the only place they said still sells it” the pride in his voice was unlike anything you’d heard before as he carried on rummaging around the bag before pulling out 3 more tubs “Didn’t know how many you wanted so I stocked up” he chuckled, placing the tubs back into the bag and watching as you nibble round the edge of the container, too impatient to wait for a spoon.

“You don’t want these then?” you looked round to see him holding a family size bag of crisps, a handful of candy bars and even a box of your favourite instant hot chocolate that you used to have as a child. “How did you know” you probe, reaching for the box and examining the text.

Struggling to remember the last time you saw the packaging in a shop, let alone holding it in your hands. The box feeling so much smaller than it used to from when you were young, bounding to the cashier with 5 or 6 boxes to buy with your pocket money.

 “On our first date we passed a shop that sold them and I’ll never forget the look on your face. You told me how your mum would always make you one if you were having a bad day and they’d always make you feel better” he smiled and could feel the tears brimming in your eyes.

You and Jay had been together nearly 8 months and he still remembered the tinist detail from your first date, something you had even forgotten about. A little remark you made as you passed the shop on the way back to the car park, not thinking much of it as who would remember about a box of instant hot chocolate that probably didn’t even taste good? Jay did.

“Get into bed and I’ll get some bowls for these” he collects the items and puts them back into the bag, his tone still gentle despite the excitement you knew he had inside from presenting you with everything you needed without being asked.

You shook your head, standing to wrap your arms around his torso. Nestling your head into his chest as you feel it vibrate from a silent laugh “I told you to get into bed baby” you felt the shivers run down your spine as he rested his hand on the back of your head, allowing his hand to roam up and down your back in a soft motion. 

“What did I do to deserve you” you mumble into his chest, feeling him rest his head on top of yours as his hand settled on your lower back to push you further into him “So I did good?” you could practically hear the smirk on his lips, pulling back to examine the glowing grin peering back at you as his eyes glistened.

You reached to place a light kiss to his lips, a soft kiss that told him everything he needed to know “Are you gonna make me tell you to get into bed again?” he joked, tapping your back to retract yourself from him. Begrugingly you did so, already feeling the slight cold from the lack of contact you now craved from him. 

Picking the bags up from the bed to pull back the blanket, you felt the weight of something still in the bottom. You opened the carriers to see what must’ve been atleast 5 boxes of different sanitary products rolling around in the bags “What’s this?” you asked, confused as to why he went out of his way to buy you the snacks but you never would’ve expected him to know what products to buy you, or atleast try and guess as you always joked about how little men knew about the whole thing. 

“I didn’t know if you needed any” his voice was timid, reaching to rub the back of his neck with his hand which was a sign of nervousness you’d picked up on over the past few months . “Jay, how much do you think I bleed?” you were grateful to see the corners of his lips lift in a smile “Well, I realised I’ve never bought you any so I wanted to get a few so I had more of a chance of getting the right ones” he admitted, your hands falling to your sides as you allowed the bag to drop to the floor. 

Your feet were bounding over to him before you could even think, all you wanted to do was throw your arms around him as you had no words for everything he had done. “I can’t believe how much I love you” your voice slightly cracked as you felt the lump rise to your throat, as much as Jay loved to care for you, you never would've expected this. 

“I’m sorry I can’t take the pain away” you felt him plant a kiss to the top of your head, another one of his small guestures that made you week at the knees without him even knowing. “You’ve helped more than you’ll ever know” you smiled into him, cringing at your cheesy confession but knowing he loves to hear these things from you, adding to his ego of how well he looks after you. 

You both stood in a comfortable silence, basking in each other presence with the simplicity of the background noises coming from the streets below. From someone looking on, the way you were standing probably didn’t look very comfortable. The way you were entangled together, your arms hanging from his neck as his moved around your body to press his fingertips in the various parts he knew you were probably feeling pain. When Jay finally breaks the silence, he mutters the words that at the moment sounded better than ‘i love you’ when they fell from his lips “Do you want some ice cream, baby?” 

**

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[cinnamonest]

Since people actually liked it here's the continuation of the modern Xiao camgirl!darling post I cut from the original, as promised, most if it's under a cut. Here’s the original post. I didn’t think people would actually like the camgirl concept so I thought I was rambling too much and cut this part out lol but here it is now!

Tws: derogatory language/female slurs, mentions of reader being a cheater, reader is promiscuous, murder, incel-y mentality (our modern boy would be a 4chan user, look me in the eye and tell me I'm wrong) and mentions of upsetting realistic things, this one's darker than the first part. If you're bothered by other modern stuff for being too realistic best avoid this too probably, involuntary pornography ---------- Coming up on one year since you gained your most loyal subscriber, you get a rather... Unsettling request. He has something he would like this month, in fact, he adds a few hundred to the regular amount (he's been saving up just for this) and asks for just the answer to one simple question. What's your name?

Your real name, he clarifies. He doesn't need a last name, nothing like that. It would just... Make him feel closer to you. He avoids using the term "anniversary," even though that's what comes to mind. He also doesn't tell you that he already knows, that this is just a test of your honesty. For someone who's so cautious, you would think you would think to give a fake name whenever you go to coffee shops for them to yell out, or change it on the packages you get. You hesitate. And it would be easy to give him a fake one, yet, you don't really think about it too much, you kinda think about that as an afterthought, what you should have done, but your very real name is typed out and sent before you really process it, and you feel a sort of unease, but it's already sent. No big deal. He can't do much with just your first name, right? If your name is common, you feel pretty safe, but even if it's a rarer one, surely there are other people with it, right? He's happy though. Kinda surprised, really, that you didn't lie to him. Maybe you trust him?

You're not stupid, you know something is wrong, you're becoming paranoid. And you connect the weird feeling to him, bc he goes radio silence for several days leading up to finally taking you. This dude who used to respond to any messages you sent within 10 seconds suddenly... It's like he disappeared? He hasn't responded to anything you send him ever since you said your name. You send him messages saying you haven't heard from him in a while and you're worried... The way you word it makes it sound like you're worried about him, but you both know that's not what you really mean. You're hesitant and suspicious of every guy you meet. You buy pepper spray and start carrying some around, you nearly spray a poor guy who you thought was trailing you, turns out he just lives in your building. He makes note of it. He watched you buy it, and is quick to realize you always hold it in the same hand. That must be your dominant hand, that's an important mental note for the future, since you're more likely to try to attack him with that hand. He'll remember. He has a note in his phone with information like that. Height, weight, birthday, social security number, parents' names, school she graduated from. All in little bullet points. He adds dominant hand to the list. He's not worried at all really. Already watched you struggle to carry packages he could lift with one hand, your strength doesn't cross his mind as a threat. At first he just doesn't know what to say, and that's why he stops responding, he feels too awkward but... He starts to enjoy the weird feeling of power the whole situation is giving him. You're worried, you're constantly paranoid, and it's because of him. Now you finally understand the same feeling you inflict on him, how you consume his thoughts every waking moment of every day. It used to irritate him that you held so much power over him, while he meant nothing to you. Now, the tables have turned. You're forced to have him constantly in your mind, whether you like it or not, just like you are in his. It's giving you what you deserve. It gives him a feeling of significance. He matters, even if it's not in a good way. And he keeps telling himself that once he's all you have, he'll matter even more. He's smart enough to realize that if you're paranoid, you might have mentioned him by username to someone else, so to ensure he knows what to do from this point, he has to sneak into your apartment at night as you sleep. It's so unbearably tempting, you have no idea -- you're right there and so vulnerable. He has to hold himself back because he knows that if he so much as touched you, he couldn't hold back. But it's torture, standing there so close, watching your chest rise and fall as he fiddles with the phone. Even when he unlocks it with your thumb, he tries to hold the phone from an angle to do so, even if the skin of his hand grazes yours, it would be too much. You have a lot of contacts across your messages and a bunch of different apps. You have one guy in your online chat you've exchanged far more messages with than anyone else! Hundreds upon hundreds of messages, and huge paypal cash drops, who the hell is -- oh, wait, that's him. Nevermind. But, to his pleasant surprise, he's the only one of your... customers that you regularly talk to, the rest just have a few paypal notifications or clarifications on your policies, but no actual conversations like you have with him. Of course, that's literally part of your deal, he's literally paying for it, but it makes him happy nonetheless. But as he goes through your personal messages, he finds that you are... in no shortage of options. Like, holy shit. It was kind of expected. You *are* really pretty, that's how you have so many followers after all, but this is a lot. So many contacts named some variation of "DO NOT ANSWER!!!" or "creepy guy that forced me to give him my number at the club", etc etc. Plenty of unsaved numbers texting you to never get a response. You've ghosted enough dudes to make your place haunted. It's... kinda awful, really. It also kinda hurts his heart a bit more than he expected. You have so, so, so many options, even without the cam thing, he's more insignificant than he even realized. ...Well, for now, at least. He'll be significant to you soon enough. And then you seem to have a sort of "boyfriend of the month" deal going on, aside from that. Plenty of male-name contacts whose last exchange is a "don't talk to me again!" message from you, plenty of messages corresponding to the same time as those to your girl friends about how you can't find a good guy and every relationship ends badly. How unfortunate. See, it's because you choose bad guys. You probably go for dicks and not.... well, he can't exactly pull the "nice guys like me" mentality, he doesn't delude himself into thinking he is one. He's lucid enough to realize that most nice guys would not be sneaking into your house and standing over your sleeping body to stalk your phone as they make plans to kidnap you. He knows he would probably fall under the classification of a creepy guy. He's just too far gone to care. Still, he would be so much better to you, he tells himself, not a cheater or a player like you complain about. To say he resents those kinds of guys -- ones that can do the unthinkable and actually talk to girls, let alone successfully, only to be assholes, and yet girls like you still go for them -- is an understatement. You're basically just a slut, you probably ignore all the guys that would be nice to you, just like all those internet forums he reads talk about. Typical.

Well, those forums also make fun of guys like him who pay for girls like you, but he can't blame them. It *is* kinda pathetic. There is one dude you talk to, though, now. Current boyfriend of the month, from the looks of it. You have a little heart emoji next to the name. He knows it's kinda pathetic that something so simple and insignificant sets him off, but it does, makes him pout and grind his teeth and curl his other hand into a fist. It's so unfair. Some dude you barely know gets to fuck you, and you haven't even known him nearly as long as you've known him! He doubts this dude -- hell, any of your boyfriends -- has put in the same amount of money that he has into you. They fuck you practically for free. And that, unfortunately for you, only solidifies his decision. If you're fucking some dude for a month because they buy you dinner every now and then, if we're going by that scale, then you owe him quite a good deal of pussy. Any hesitancy or guilt he had about the whole thing is gone. And he's a little mad. Keeps grumbling to himself that you're just a loose whore, fucking so many people and putting yourself out there on the internet. He wonders if they even know about what you do. Probably not, you probably don't tell them. Yeah, that sounds like what you'd do. Really, you're kinda lucky that someone like him is so willing to commit to you, since you are a slut. You don't deserve it, but he loves you anyway. And you'll probably have the nerve to be ungrateful for it too. Sigh. On the bright side, by some miracle, it would appear that you have not told any real-life people about him, you haven't sent out any hey if I disappear you should probably look into this creep type of messages. But he can't afford to have you doing so in between now and when you move in with him, so, he decides he has to act within the next 24 hours. While he's here, though, he decides to do a quick sweep of your place. Makes note of what snacks and drinks you like, what brand of toothpaste and shampoo and the like you use, so he can buy some for you. Maybe you'll adjust better if you have some of your favorite things. And then, after days of silence, he sends you a message, says it's fine, his internet went out for a few days. He means it to reassure you, but somehow it makes you feel more uneasy. He has everything planned out, or so he thinks. But you deviate from your usual schedule. When you leave work or class, you don't go home, you go somewhere else, first. How strange. Maybe picking up groceries? He follows from a distance. No, looks like you're going out to eat...? Maybe you're meeting friends or family or -- no that's a guy. Fuck. You must have planned this just earlier today, since there were no messages on your phone. It makes a bitter feeling rise in his gut. He hates that he can't get close enough to listen to your conversation. Well, he hates the whole thing, sits there and seethes the whole time. Watches you through the windows in the parking lot, thankfully you chose to sit outside. Feels his eye twitch and his hand clench every time you smile and laugh. It takes way too long. The fact that you split the bill feels like a punch to the stomach too. Shouldn't you be used to taking guys' money? Oh, and what's this...? This guy isn't the picture on boyfriend-of-the-month's contact. Well, well, well. You really are a whore. See, it's a very good thing he's taking you off the market. You're probably a reckless heartbreaker too. He's doing all the other men of the world a favor by taking on such a burden as you. And it makes him feel far more justified in keeping you locked away, since he has every reason to believe, now, that you'd run off and fuck someone else if given the chance. Halfway through, the guy briefly gets up and runs to the bathroom or something. While he's gone, he sees your face fall a bit. And then he sees you look around. You turn your head from one side to the other. Your eyes scan the area. You shuffle uncomfortably and you bite your lip and your eyebrows furrow. You're scared. You feel like -- no, you know you're being watched and it scares you. That makes him a little happy, for some reason. He wouldn't be sure what to do if you went home with the guy, but thankfully you don't. No big deal, this was just a bump in the road, he still beats you back to your building and he still goes through with the original plan. Even better, now that it's even darker outside. If anything, now he's got extra aggression and testosterone in his blood, running over the events in his head and going through some... very forceful and violent fantasies. The message he sent had you uneasy, and it's also how you immediately know what's going on when it does finally happen. You keep telling yourself you're being unnecessarily paranoid, that it's nothing, maybe that guy actually got his life together or got a girlfriend or something. Things like... What you fear, don't happen in real life, that's stuff that only happens in movies and stuff. You keep calling it that or it in your head. That won't happen to you. It's not going to happen. The series of events that play out in your head, scenarios you try to push out of your mind. Sure, in the movies it always takes place in the stairwell, but that's fiction, so you go up the apartment stairwell as always. You're not gonna let a bunch of B-grade old films scare you. And it's always some dude standing and waiting, but that nice young boy that you've never seen before is just leaning against the wall, scrolling on his phone, he only glances up for a second as you pass by, he's not a threat, you're being paranoid. You flash a smile and a little wave as you walk by, he doesn't return either, just looks back down at his phone. See? This guy doesn't even care, you're being paranoid for nothing, you tell yourself. But as you make the turn to go up the next set of stairs you hear the click of a phone being put on the lockscreen, a few metallic footsteps ringing out in the open hall and echoing, coming up right behind you, but for that split second you expect a tap on the shoulder, maybe he has a question, it's not like movies, it's not like movies, you're not gonna get a cloth shoved over your face and--- Well, it's not exactly like the movies. You were prepared, but it all happens in one motion - one hand grabs the hand with the spray and twists it, making you drop it, the other wraps some material over your mouth. You were prepared enough that you don't gasp in surprise, you hold your breath and thrash, but it doesn't make any difference, you wiggle and writhe for a few moments but can't even begin to break free, eventually succumb to the lack of oxygen and take a deep breath. It takes a few seconds to settle in, it's not so immediate. You instinctively panic and thrash again, but he has a complete iron grip. The dizziness takes a second to set in. He huffs a bit in frustration and says stop moving, it's fine. It's definitely not, but it occurs to you that that's not something a kidnapper looking for any potential vulnerable girl says. It's a poor attempt at comfort. It's someone specifically looking for you. And if that wasn't enough, he says your name. Your very real name. Maybe it was a mistake to tell him after all. But the worst part of it all is that there's not a single doubt in your mind, even in your panic you have the realization, it's definitely him and this is literally exactly what you were afraid of. And it's the last thing that goes through your head. And once he's got you out cold he just takes a sigh of relief. He may have been very neutral faced to you, but in reality he was incredibly nervous. He hasn't exactly made or used chloroform before, our boy is operating on YouTube tutorials here. He's got adrenaline pumping through his veins and carries you with his arms trembling. He's on autopilot carrying you out, but his mind is also consumed by holy fuck I'm touching her she smells so nice she's so warm her face is so close I'm actually touching her-- you get the idea. He feels bad about taping your hands and feet together and putting you in the trunk of his car, kinda. It feels too much like what a really bad person would do to a girl they didn't care about, like he's a trafficker or a murderer or a criminal or something, but that's not true at all. Sure, he's still mad at you for being a whore and all that, but it feels improper, he just has no choice. It's late at night, but he can't risk getting pulled or being at a stoplight and someone seeing an unconscious girl in his backseat, so, trunk it is. But once he's home, to his tiny little downtown apartment (he'll probably be able to move into a better place soon, since he's not paying you tons of money anymore), he takes a quick check to make sure the coast is clear, and drags you out, up the stairs, all the way into his apartment, sets you down on the bed, where you'll be staying. He even washed the sheets and cleaned the place up a bit for your arrival. You probably would not like to see what this place looked like before the five trash bags worth of cleaning was done. He'll probably be more motivated in the future, though, since now he won't be so depressed all the time. And then the adrenaline of the fear of being seen is over, and that's when it sets in that this is real. It's very, very hard to hold back. You're real, in the flesh, he can reach out and touch you with his hands! It feels like a dream. And he realizes he can take this opportunity to do things he would be far, far too embarrassed to do when you're awake. He takes a few minutes to do just that, cautiously reaches out to poke your face, and then run a hand down your neck, your skin is so soft! Your hair smells so nice, he lays down beside you and runs his fingers over it. Puts hands on your body and just lays there in awe of the fact that you're real. He's pretty certain he's never actually touched a human female before now. Everything about you feels soft. Weirdly feminine, which is something very foreign and confusing to him. And he kinda uh... Loses it. Goes buckwild with just taking in every aspect of you. Again, since you're unconscious he can be gross and entirely shameless about it. Peels your clothes off and runs his hands and mouth over every inch of flesh, takes the tape off your lips and presses his tongue into your limp mouth until he's forced to let go to breathe, fingers you and tonguefucks you and sucks on your nipples and your neck. Lays pressed against you and just breathes in your scent. It takes every ounce of self control he has not to fuck you already. But he does jerk off a few times. That way he'll last longer, so it's a win-win. And then... you twitch. Tape goes back over your mouth. And then, you twitch again. And this time, you make a little "mm!" under the tape, you start trembling and he sees you try to pull your hands apart. You whimper. It sounds scared and distressed. He feels kinda bad, but it also makes him hard, and that outweighs any guilt by far. Besides, it's what you deserve after what you did earlier. You tortured him mentally, it's only fair. On the good side of things, you suppose, you don't have to worry about the usual fears one would have over such a situation - you're fairly certain he's not going to kill you, nor sell you. In fact, the bed you wake up on is pretty soft. You're naked and the tape is uncomfortable, but... At least he was considerate enough to give you a blanket. He does care about you, after all. First thing he says is asking if you're awake. Can you hear me? You hesitate a moment, and then you nod. He's a bit new to this whole abduction thing. He wants to make sure he didn't pull a muscle or something with the tape. So... Do you hurt anywhere? Does your head hurt? Oh, right, the tape. He's not stupid either. You have to promise you're not going to scream. In fact, he's angry enough about earlier that he gets a bit meaner than he originally told himself he'd be. If you scream, I'll make you regret it. Understand? You nod, so he takes it off, holding it close in preparation in case you were lying, but you don't actually answer him, you're silent again for a minute, then just ask a question of your own. You're that guy, right? He's silent for a few seconds, there's no need for any clarification. Finally just says yeah. You just breathe again. Silently. Finally you summon the courage to ask him what he wants with you. And why are you doing this to me? And his answer is fairly simple. What do you think? You don't say anything for a minute, and neither does he. He's not good with words, and you don't really have ones for this situation. It occurs to you that offering to pay him to let you go is probably not the solution. After all, this is the guy that's dumped unimaginable amounts of money onto you, you couldn't even come close to paying him back. You figure maybe, after he gets what he wants... well, you get the courage to ask.  Is there anything... that I can do o-or... anything that will make you... are you gonna let me go, after you....? And the answer is, again, simple, but the one you did not want to hear. No. He's a blunt boy, so he doesn't beat around the bush, but he doesn't torment you by keeping anything from you. In fact, he's already rehearsed this speech a few hundred times in his head. He just wanted to make sure he's very clear so there's no misunderstanding, and while he likes some discomfort in a vengeful sort of way, he doesn't want you to be too freaked out to where you have a panic attack. He says he's just going to... keep you here. He has the things you'll need. He got your purse with your keys, so he'll even run to your apartment after this to go get some of your stuff. You don't need to tell him which number, he adds, he already knows which apartment you're in. He needs you here, he says. And he makes sure to add that it's your fault. If you were never out there selling yourself in the first place, this never would have happened. If you're good, he can make things a bit better for you. But you need to go ahead and accept that you're going to be staying and that no amount of begging or offers is going to convince him to let you go. He can be nice to you, he promises. A better boyfriend than the others. You just have to be a good girlfriend -- you know, obedient and sweet and do what he says. Just like you always were when you talked to him. Just keep being sweet like that and doing the things he tells you to do. You would argue that the terms boyfriend and girlfriend are not appropriate descriptors of the sort of relationship he's creating, but you keep that thought to yourself. Instead, you ask, How long are you going to keep me here? Which is a dumb question, since he's pretty sure he already made that clear. Forever. -----

There's a double homicide in the area. Takes place on the same night, and the same diameter of knife is used, so police believe maybe the two incidents are connected. Especially because they do have something in common, one girl. She was romantically involved with both of them. The girl in question's apartment has been vacated, very suddenly, and the girl has disappeared without a trace, taking things with her from the looks of it, so police believe she may be responsible, but other than that, they have no leads. A few weeks later, a video circulates all over the internet. Some famous camgirl finally started making porn, apparently. Just one video, but the description (which was totally written by her, it has to be since it's written in first person right?) says something about how she decided to quit camming, so this video marks the end of her career. She got into a relationship, so she says in the description, so she has to quit. It's roleplay porn, apparently, she's doing a good job at the acting. All tied up and gagged and getting fucked by some big-dicked guy holding the camera. He's silent, but she's making a ton of noise, cums several times. Really good acting, the fear and desperation in her eyes looks so real. Talk about going out with a bang. It gets a lot of likes. Tons of comments about how sad people are she's quitting. And of course, a lot of comments say, what a lucky guy.

[ericspinkhair]

unexpectedly becoming a sugar baby

pairing: ceo!sunwoo x fem!reader

word count: 3.4k

synopsis: reader is desperate for money so she has sex with her boss

warnings: lots of oral and fingering, use of vibrator in public , office sex, sex for money

a/n: wrote this yesterday instead of studying for my final. the exam went well tho :) also please send in requests!!!

masterlist + requests

to say you were desperate would be an understatement. today you had received an eviction notice that stated that you had exactly 30 days to either pay back all the money you owed your landlord or leave your apartment.

due to your mother's illness you had to pay for all her medical bills. your father hadn't been in the picture for a long time so you alone were responsible for your mother's health. you couldn't just let her die. but because of all these costs you hadn't been able to pay your rent and now you were on the verge of homelessness.

never in a lifetime did you imagine that you would be begging someone for help. you felt so helpless that you honestly didn't really care how you got the money.

you decided to ask your boss for a raise and were prepared to work your ass off in order to get it.

mr. kim's office was on the fourth floor of the company, one you barely had ever been to. normal employees were usually only to be found on the lower floors so taking the elevator up felt wrong.

you were determined, however, to not let your pride get in the way. the money was more important than how you felt.

you knocked on the door twice. as if to make you feel even more nervous, it seemed like mr. kim waited extra long to respond.

when you entered he was sitting behind his desk. he didn't even look up at you so you just stood there awkwardly, unsure what to do.

'why don't you just sit?' he finally asked annoyed and closed his laptop.

you quickly took a seat and tried to put up a professional front.

'what can I do for you, um…' 'y/n,' you helped him out. 'right, y/n. what can I do for you?' he asked.

'I would like to ask for a raise, sir. you see, I am usually the first employee to enter the building and also most of the time the last one to leave. I do my work reliably and deliver solid results. my coworkers are pleased with me and we also get along well. I think I contribute a lot to this company and wanted to ask whether it would be possible to raise my pay.' you really tried to not make it seem like you had simply memorized all of this and forced yourself to speak slowly but firmly while looking him in the eyes.

mr. kim didn't respond at first but opened his laptop.

'to my understanding you have been working here for a very long time already. your pay is already the highest it can get. there is no way for me to raise it because there is no room for improvement.' he sighed and waited for your reaction.

you started sweating. this wasn't going as planned. you hadn't known that you were already receiving the highest pay. you were barely able to afford food with your current money.

'please, sir. I will do anything you ask of me. I don't care how many extra hours I'd have to work. I can do it. I promise. please give me a chance,' you begged him.

he was intrigued by you. why were you so desperate for the money?

'first, why don't you tell me why you are so keen on a raise?'

was your boss even allowed to ask you such personal questions? you answered anyway.

'my mother has cancer. I am the only person paying for her medical expenses and the treatments are all very expensive. I am about to get evicted because I cannot pay my rent.'

he seemed to be deep in thought. his gaze on you was intense.

your heart skipped a beat when he placed his hand on yours.

'y/n, I'm extremely sorry that you have to deal with all of this. I wouldn't want anyone to have to experience the same thing. believe me when I tell you that I want to help you. you know what? come back tomorrow. I have an idea how I might be able to help but I need to think about it further. would that be alright for you?'

it felt like a huge weight was lifted off your shoulders. you didn't care about what you had to do. you stood up, bowed deeply and thanked him over and over.

he let out a deep chuckle. you were cute.

the next day you came back again in the afternoon. this time he answered the door quicker and his attention was focused on you from the start. the energy felt much different than the day before. he seemed excited and was smiling at you. this had to mean good news, right? he shook your hand and pressed firmly while looking you deep in the eyes.

'y/n, I came up with an idea to help you. but it is less conventional and it depends on how much you are willing to do.'

'mr. kim, I will do anything,' you assured him. the smirk he flashed you threw you off guard.

'okay then. first, I'd prefer it if you called me sunwoo as we'll be seeing more of each other if you were to agree.'

this lowkey felt like crossing some boundaries but you wanted to please him.

you nodded eagerly. 'okay, sunwoo it is.'

'so my idea is that there are certain things you can do to earn money. I will pay for everything with my own savings and you will receive it in cash. we will start off easy and over time I'll add new tasks. of course, you have the freedom to choose whether you want to do them or not. that is completely up to you.'

the look of confusion on your face must have told him you didn't fully understand.

'it's hard to explain. I'd rather you figure it out by trying it. since today is friday, the task I'll give you is for monday. I would like to choose an outfit for you. I'll send it to your apartment and you have to wear exactly what is inside the box. if you were to do this I'd give you $20 cash.'

that was a weird request. why would he want to decide what you were wearing? did he not like your outfit? did you look disgusting?

'let me get this straight. you pick an outfit for me and if I decide to wear it I get money?' you ask him to see if you had understood correctly.

'exactly. that doesn't seem so bad, right?' you shook your head. it was whatever.

'that's great. you'll receive your outfit and I can't wait to see you in it on monday.' you didn't know if you were imagining it but it seemed like he was eyeing your body. h god, he definitely didn't like what you were wearing.

$20 wasn't much but still more than nothing. and apparently the other tasks would be worth more. guess you had to start somewhere. with the money you could at least afford something to eat.

you say goodbye and continued with work until it was time to leave.

you waited anxiously all weekend for the clothes. sunday you decided to go for a walk and when you opened your door you almost tripped over a package.

on monday morning you tried on the outfit sunwoo had picked out for you.

the white blouse was a bit see through and a bit too tight around the boob area but looked neat otherwise. the black skirt hugged your curves perfectly and made you look quite sexy in your opinion. he even picked out a bra, underwear, stockings and high heels for you. the note he had left clearly stated to wear exactly and only what was in the box. so you did.

you usually wore something more simple and loose but you didn't feel too uncomfortable in this look.

when you entered his office his eyes lit up.

'I'm glad you wore this. it looks very good on you.'

you were sure you blushed a bit at his words. you weren't really used to receiving compliments from men.

'I like it too,' you admit. sunwoo smiled contentedly.

'so would you like to do the same tomorrow? I'll send you another outfit,' he asked you.

this one wasn't bad at all so you agreed. he handed you $20. when you stood up and walked out the door he couldn't stop admiring the way your butt looked in the skirt. tomorrow was going to be even better.

the blouse was almost the same one. however, this time the skirt was a lot shorter. it ended at the middle of your thighs. but that wasn't even the weirdest thing. this time he had forgotten to send you panties.

you felt very unsure what to do. the note clearly stated to only wear what was in the box.

you sighed and pulled down the skirt as much as you could. this would have to do. as long as you were just sitting, everything would be fine.

you went about your day and some time in the afternoon you were called into sunwoo's office.

you were wondering whether or not to tell him about the missing underwear but decided to keep your mouth closed. panties didn't seem to be a topic to talk about with your boss.

'today, I want to offer you an additional task. you will receive your $20 dollars for sure and you can make another 30 by cleaning my office. what do you think?' he proposed to you.

that would be $50 in total. you needed all the money you could get.

'of course. just tell me what to clean and I will be happy to help.'

everything was going according to sunwoo's plan. he was excited and told you you could start by dusting the shelves.

your eagerness was cute and he watched you out of the corner of his eyes.

some of the shelves were higher up so you had to stretch to be able to reach them. when you did your skirt rolled up higher and he was able to see the just the outline of your butt cheeks. he unconsciously licked his lips.

for the rest of the week you continued these two tasks. but you noticed that the underwear kept on missing and the skirts also progressively became shorter.

this was a struggle when you were cleaning and organizing his office. you were aware of your skirt rolling up and you were hoping that sunwoo wouldn't notice.

of course he did. that had been his intention all along. when you bent down he could sometimes get a glance at your pretty pussy. he couldn't help but get hard at the sight of this and palmed his bulge through his pants.

in one week you had received $220. you would have been more happy if you hadn't gotten another bill from the hospital asking you for another $1200. the health care system was simply fucked up. whatever the next tasks were, you had to do them.

on monday you were cleaning his office again. you wanted to pick up some files but you struggled reaching them from the highest shelf. you felt your skirt roll up again.

'wait. I'll help you,' sunwoo announced and walked over.

you gasped as you felt something hard poke your thigh as he stood behind you to reach for the files. when he took a step back you saw the clear outlines of his hardened cock.

unable to hide your surprise, sunwoo laughed.

'this is all your doing.' so he did notice your skirt roll up. wait. had he given you these clothes with this in mind?

'do you want to touch it?' he asked.

you just blinked at him. what? were you perhaps still dreaming? it was possible that you were having a wet dream about your boss. sunwoo was very handsome and you had to be blind not to notice.

'if you help me get rid of it, I'll promise you $100.' he knew you were thinking hard. you couldn't keep your eyes off his bulge, clearly not sure what to think of this.

this was against all the work protocols but you would kid yourself if you said that you didn't want to. not only was he very attractive but you'd do a lot for a mere $100.

you reached for his belt. sunwoo smirked; he had won.

you pulled his pants down and were immediately greeted with his veiny cock.

'you aren't the only one not wearing any underwear, my dear y/n.'

so that had been intentional. interesting. you realized you must have been very naive to have believed that he had simply forgotten to put panties in the boxes.

you started by rubbing the tip softly with your thumb. it was pretty and pink and already leakined pre-cum.

you felt strangely good about having this kind of effect on someone. with a few pumps his dick was completely hard.

sunwoo propped his hands on the desk behind him and leaned back in bliss.

deep moans were escaping his beautifully luscious lips while you were pleasuring him with your hands.

you decided to put your left hand you use as well by massaging his balls.

'fuck! when did you learn to do this so well?' sunwoo groaned.

during high school you had had a lot of sex. it made you feel good and you enjoyed it. now your experience turned out to be lifesaving to you. well, he'd probably pay you even if you weren't as mind blowing.

'hmm, practice,' you simply state.

'if this is already so good I wonder what your mouth can do, baby girl.' being called that aroused you way more than expected. this was so exciting.

'I'll give you another $100 if you suck me off.'

before sunwoo knew it you had already wrapped your lips around his cock. you skillfully bobbed your head up and down. when you looked up at him with big eyes he swore he was about to explode.

with most of the dick in your mouth your other hand was continuing to knead his balls.

he was coming close quickly and grabbed your hair so you would stay still.

he proceeded to fuck your mouth harshly. you felt spit running down the sides of your lips and tears escaping your eyes as he buried his cock deep in your mouth. you tried to relax in order to deep-throat him properly.

he came hard and emptied his load in your mouth. to prove a point, you swallowed it and then opened up to show him.

panting hard he said: 'fuck you're just amazing!'

you looked absolutely delicious with your face full of cum. he had a good feeling you were the right person to do this with.

you licked off some of the white liquid from your lips and smirked at him.

this was definitely not what you had expected what you would be doing but you weren't one to complain.

sunwoo quickly disappeared to search for some paper towels to clean your face. his employees couldn't see you like this.

after your face was clean again he handed you $250. 'you deserve it.' 'thanks.'

he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear and leaned closer. 'maybe we can do more tomorrow.' ooh, sounds exciting.

'then I'll look forward to seeing you.' with a wink you left.

you wondered how much money you would get for some sexy time with your boss.

the next morning, you couldn't fully button up the blouse he had sent you. the top buttons had to be left open and a lot of cleavage was visible. this horndog!

this time you actually received some underwear but only for a special reason. you found a pink mini vibrator in the box as well.

so you were walking around with a vibrating stick up your pussy. you didn't want to come in front of your co-workers so you turned it off whenever you got too close and waited to calm down.

'did you have fun today?' was the first thing sunwoo said to you.

you laughed ironically. 'I had so much fun pretending I wasn't being masturbating in front of everyone…'

he made you turn around and lifted up your skirt. the outline of the vibrator was visible and he could see your panties shaking.

with one quick move he pulled your underwear down and took the vibrator to turn it off. it came out with a wet plop and juices were running down your thighs.

sunwoo surprised you by sucking on the wet vibrator.

'sit on the desk,' he commanded you.

you did as you were told and sunwoo spread your legs wide apart.

he inserted his index and middle finger which slipped in with ease. your pussy made wet noises as he pushed them in and out of you.

finally having privacy you allowed yourself to make sounds. he made intense eye contact while fingering you, loving the way your face was scrunched up in pleasure.

you wrapped your arms around his neck and started kissing him. his tongue easily won the fight over dominance and started exploring your mouth.

you two were basically just sucking each others faces off until he broke off the kiss and lowered his body. he attached his mouth to your clit and started sucking. you pulled at his hair in pleasure and had a hard time controlling your breathing. damn, he was skilled at this as well.

when he felt you clenching around his fingers he withdrew them and you let out a disappointed noise of protest.

'don't worry. you'll have more soon.', he laughed at you. he quickly took off his pants and pulled you off the desk. he turned you around so your ass was facing him.

he started rubbing his thick cock between your ass cheeks and coated it in your juices. every time he got into contact with your tense pussy a shudder overcame your body.

he lifted your leg and placed your foot on the table. the angle from when he thrusted into you from behind was just perfect.

sunwoo attached his lips onto your neck and started leaving hickeys there. at the same time he was kneading your breast through your shirt.

he had barely ever felt such a perfect pussy around his cock. the way you took him in seemed too good to be true.

while his dick was still inside you, he lifted you up and placed you on all fours on the floor.

he grabbed your hips so tightly that he left red marks on them. at this point, he was just uncontrollably slamming into you while you were losing your mind. you were screaming his name loudly, glad that you knew no one could hear you.

as you could feel both of you getting close, he pulled your upper body up to his chest and wrapped one hand around your neck.

the pressure he applied was just enough for you to see stars but not enough for it to be unpleasant.

the lack of oxygen stimulated your senses even more and while repeatedly screaming out sunwoo's name you finally came hard on his dick.

with a few more thrusts, sunwoo's hips started stuttering as well and he shot his load into you. while riding out your highs he was just fucking his cum right back into you.

when he finally pulled out, a pool of his semen started dripping out of you. you suddenly felt so empty. his thick cock had filled you up so good that you were already missing it.

while you were still catching your breath on the floor, sunwoo had gone to get paper towels.

when he came back, however, he seemed hectic.

'I'm so sorry. there has been an emergency and I need to leave right now. I'll leave these here as well as the money.' he placed everything on the desk and walked back to the door.

he turned around one last time. 'I hope we can do this again.' he smiled at you.

you later saw that he had left you $750.

kind of becoming a sugar baby had never been your plan but you didn't mind it. if only the circumstances had been better.

[queenshelby]

Roommates – Part Ten

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Words: 3,600

Warning: Angst, Pregnancy, Smut

Note: This plays in 2020.

It was still rainy and stormy outside, but you didn’t care. You needed the fresh air on your face more than anything else right now as you felt as though you couldn’t breathe.

You walked besides the shore until, eventually, you found a sheltered area besides one of the old seaside castles where you sat down to think.

There was certainly a lot of thinking to be done and, eventually, you reached the conclusion that, what you should do now, is support your friend just as he had supported you following your breakup with James. Your friendship lasted for 12 years so far and now wasn’t the time to end it, nor was there any reason to do so.

But where did it leave you and the fact that you did what you swore to yourself you would never do. You had been intimate with Cillian and that, in your mind, was wrong now that you knew what you knew about Laura.

But why was it wrong, you then went to ponder on? What made it wrong, you wondered? Cillian and Laura were no longer together and, as far as you knew, Cillian never mislead her into thinking that he wanted a serious relationship with her. You knew it was a common theme and argument between them and, at least from his point of view, there were no feelings involved. So why shouldn’t you be with him now?

Of course, you realised fairly quickly that the reason that you should stay away from Cillian was Laura. She is your friend too and she is still hurt and wants him back, no matter how futile her desires and attempts to be with him might be. But does this mean you should deny yourself? After all, it’s been 12 years which it took you to get this far. It’s not that you had ever contemplated to sleep with Cillian, but you certainly were drawn to him now and, therefore, would you be a bad friend if you continued to be intimate with him?

Eventually, you reached the conclusion that the answer to your question was probably yes. Both, you and Cillian, found yourselves in a moral dilemma and, whilst you both slipped once and let your desires for each other get the better of you, it couldn’t happen again. That, of course, was unless the moral compass of the situation changed which made you wonder how it got so far in the first place.

***

When you arrived back home, you saw Cillian in the kitchen, making a cup of coffee and, whilst he acknowledged you, he was silent and waited for you to ask what you wanted to ask.

‘Why didn’t you tell me that Laura is pregnant?’ you eventually blurted out, causing Cillian to sigh heavily.

‘Because I promised her that I would not tell anyone until she had her first scan’ Cillian explained almost frustrated.

‘She hasn’t had a scan yet? Cillian, uhm, this is a lot to take in’ you observed and he nodded.

‘Not as far as I know’ Cillian then huffed out, causing you to walk over towards him and grab hold of both of his shoulders.

‘Listen Cillian, I don’t care what happened between you and I know said I would stay out of it, but she does need your support with this. You can’t just ignore the fact that you have a child on the way with her’ you said rather harshly, causing Cillian to break down in emotions.

‘What do you think I’ve been doing Y/N, eh?’ Cillian huffed out before one curse after another left his mouth.

‘She doesn’t fucking let me. I want to be part of the pregnancy and support her, not just financially but also emotionally. I want to be a father to this child but she just cuts me out. According to her, unless I get back together with her, I won’t be having any partake in this’ Cillian explained with a heavy heart as his eyes began to tear up.

‘Oh my god Cillian, I am sorry, I didn’t know’ you said surprised by Laura’s action before comforting him.

‘It’s alright. I didn’t tell you because I knew you wanted to stay out of it. I didn’t want to put you into this difficult position you are now in and I also knew that you had your own shit to deal with’ Cillian said, referring to your breakup with James.

‘Have you at least been able to communicate with her doctor? Or her? Anything at all?’ you then asked and Cillian shook his head.

‘No, nothing. I’ve been talking to her but she isn’t telling me much. She changes the topic and then goes on about all this shit that happened between us instead. I don’t even know how far along she is. I tried to get her in with a good obstetrician at Rotunda Hospital, but she hasn’t even made contact with the doctor nor is she registered at the maternity ward. I don’t fucking know what else to do and when I spoke to my lawyer about it, he told me that I can’t do anything until the child is born’ Cillian explained almost shattered.

‘Jesus Cillian…oh my god’ you said before asking him whether he knew about the pregnancy when he broke up with her and, as you had expected, he confirmed that he didn’t. But, little did you know that you just then and there opened up another can of worms.

‘She planned this Y/N, which makes it even more fucked up than it already is’ Cillian chuckled, unsure whether he should laugh or cry about the entire situation.

‘What do you mean she planned this?’ you asked curiously.

‘She had her implant removed without telling me, which is the real reason I ended it. I know she is your friend, but she’s fucking insane’ Cillian huffed out.

You were unsure what to make of Cillian’s comment and asked him to elaborate which is when he finally told you everything that you never wanted to know about their breakup.

According to Cillian, after the night him and Laura shared with Lindsay, which was something Laura organised, Laura became rather jealous and possessive.

Whilst there was no truth to it, Laura believed that Cillian was seeing Lindsay behind her back and that Lindsay was the reason he wouldn’t commit to her. The truth was that, according to Cillian, he never intended to commit to Laura because he simply didn’t think that this was what he wanted. At the time, his divorce with Danielle was going through settlement proceedings and committing to Laura was something that couldn’t do.

You recalled the arguments in the past and Laura pressuring Cillian to make a commitment which he outright told her he wasn’t willing to make.

‘Things had gone too far and she contacted my mother, introducing herself to her. She texted my sister and brother continuously, asking for my whereabouts when I was visiting Cork. She went through my phone checking for messages from other women. Things like that. It became relentless and she knew I was close to ending it. Little did I know that she had a plan in mind to make me stick around’ Cillian chuckled.

‘So, what made you think that she went off birth control behind your back? Did she actually admit to it?’ you then asked, causing Cillian to nod.

‘The bruise on her arm and the fact that the bulge from it under her skin was gone, gave it away. First, I didn’t think anything of it but when she did all this crazy stuff, I asked her about it and she admitted that she had, in fact, removed it. She wanted to make me stay by falling pregnant. How fucked up is that?’ Cillian then huffed out and you were shocked.

You didn’t expect that your friend Laura would ever do such a thing, going behind Cillian’s back to fall pregnant and make him commit.

Of course, after he’s been your friend for 12 years you believed him and he was quite obviously emotionally shattered by the situation.

‘So, when did you find out that she was pregnant?’ you wondered.

‘Two weeks later she texted me’ Cillian huffed out before continuing on. ‘She also texted Lindsay who then contacted me. After Laura had harassed her for weeks, she was obviously quite aware of the situation’ Cillian explained.

‘So, you decided to fuck her again? Not a smart move Murphy’ you laughed, causing Cillian to laugh as well.

‘Yeah, I think that was a mistake but I was in a pretty fucked up place at the time and Lindsay just stuck around and listened. I couldn’t really tell anyone else. Firstly, it’s fucking embarrassing and I still don’t know how I am going to explain this to any of my family. Secondly, I promised Laura and, despite of what happened between us, you know why I kept this promise right?’ Cillian said.

‘Yes, I do’ you responded, remembering the suffering Cillian’s ex-wife Danielle had to endure throughout 12 unsuccessful cycles of IVF and miscarriages, being the reason that her and Cillian never had any children together even after having been married for ten years.

With that in mind, you felt awful for your friend. You knew how much he wanted to have children for so many years and you realised that, despite his problems with Laura, he would probably be quite excited going through the pregnancy with her and be a father to his child if she would let him. He wanted to be involved and he wanted to be there for her, but he didn’t want to be with her.

‘Listen, I will talk to Laura, alright? I will try and convince her to let you be involved without forcing you to commit to her’ you suggested, holding onto Cillian’s hands.

‘You said that you won’t get involved in anything between Laura and me and I promised you to keep you out of it’ Cillian then said.

‘I know, but you’ve been my friend for 12 years and, after all the shit we have been through together, we will get through this too, right?’ you said with a warm smile.

‘Thank you. You are amazing you know that?’ Cillian said, finally smiling again.

‘I know’ you winked. ‘Despite, that’s just what friends do right? They help each other out’ you said with a warm smile before, without giving it another thought, giving Cillian a kiss.  

Surprised, he gave into the kiss which was gentle and warm.

‘Is that what friends do too?’ he then chuckled when your lips drifted apart.

‘Only under the added benefit scheme introduced into solid friendships as part of this lockdown relief package’ you smirked before pressing your lips back onto his.

Your reservations had gone completely after talking to Cillian about what happened and, whilst you knew you that you were betraying your friend Laura, you found it difficult to sympathise with her at this very moment.

‘So, is this what you want then, despite everything that has happened?’ Cillian asked after you each caught a breath.

‘Yes, I think so. We both have needs and we trust each other, it just makes sense, right?’ you said in order to justify your decision and Cillian couldn’t help but chuckle.

‘Makes total sense’ Cillian laughed before continuing on. ‘I learned from my mistakes Y/N and I was very careful with Lindsay, but not so careful with you last night because, apart from my family, you are probably the person I trust the most in this world. You are most defiantly on the pill though, right?’ Cillian asked somewhat concerned.

‘Oh please, Cillian. Don’t flatter yourself. I don’t want to use you as a breeding bull’ you laughed, causing him to raise one of his eyebrows. ‘Yes, I am on the pill and never forgot a single one in over ten bloody years’ you then reassured him and, without any sort of warning, he crashed his lips back onto yours.

Your tongues met as he tangled one hand in the back of your hair, kissing you furiously.

‘I felt as though you held back last night’ you huffed out as your lips drifted apart. ‘Don’t hold back! Just fuck me!’ you then said, pulling him close again after he pulled his own t-shirt over his head while you removed yours.

‘I was just testing the waters Y/N’ he smirked before he pulled down your jeans eagerly while, at the same time, your hands went to his jeans and blessedly released his throbbing cock.

‘And I am not sure if I want you to see this side of me yet’ he then smirked, causing you to raise your eyebrows in return.

‘And what side is that Cillian?’ you giggled before whispering into his ear ‘show me your real kinky and filthy side.’

‘Soon, very soon’ Cillian then said before he kissed you again, hard and fast before both of you lost your jeans completely somewhere on the kitchen floor and Cillian lifted you up to sit on the kitchen table. He was much more forceful this time around and you quite enjoyed it.

Within one swift move, he unclasped your bra and thew it to the side before his hands rested on your breasts. You gasped as he shuffled down sufficiently to kiss each of them and close his mouth around a rigid pierced nipple. He pulled on it with his teeth and bit onto slightly, making you cry out.

At the same time, Cillian’s moved to in between your legs which were spread apart by his thighs as he was standing in front of you.

‘Fucking hell Y/N. What have you been thinking about, huh? You are fucking soaking’ he groaned as he observed that you were extremely wet already.

‘About you fucking me of course’ you giggled as Cillian brought his soaking wet fingers to your mouth.

‘Show me how fucking good you taste’ he instructed, making you taste yourself and you, of course, complied with his request and licked his fingers clean. But, when he watched you do this and felt your tongue piercing press against his fingers, he couldn't take it anymore.

‘Spread your legs wider’ he instructed as he pulled his hand away from your mouth and took hold of his rigid member, aiming it towards the dripping nirvana in front of him.

He knew he was rushing things, and as much as he wanted to take you, he couldn't if you weren’t ready. Your intense gaze held a mixture of the smirk and the desire.

‘Cillian, please shove your cock inside me already’ you then whined and, without a word, he plunged into you.

‘Jesus fucking Christ, you are so tight’ Cillian groaned while his eyes screwed shut as soon as your tight pussy had engulfed him, and he couldn't tell your groans apart from his own.

Good god, he felt amazing, so fucking amazing you couldn't move, completely paralysed with pleasure.

‘Oh god Cillian’ you moaned eventually as he hovered over you, propped up against the table, his cock buried in your pussy and his face buried in the crook of your neck.

You could vaguely hear voices from the TV in the other room over the sound of your shuttering breath, but it had no more meaning than anything else in the world that wasn't currently inside of you. And that was Cillian.

‘Who would have thought that we would ever fuck, eh’ Cillian observed as he thrusted in and out of you, slow at first and then with increased speed and force, Cillian began to slightly pinch your nipples. That broke your paralysis and you wiggled and moaned in pleasure, making him fuck you harder and deeper. Cillian’s mouth eventually found your neck and ear as he began to pivot in and out of you, relishing just how tight and wet you were.

‘Crazy I know…but also so damn good’ you moaned his name and he picked up his pace again. You swore under your breath and Cillian slid a hand in between your legs to rub your clit and play with your clitoral piercing the way he had watched you do it before.

‘Fuck, that’s it, Cillian’ you moaned and then, you came, whimpering and shuddering, as Cillian watched the ecstasy pass through the delicate features of your face. He continued stroking you gently as you rode out your climax and only stopped when you gripped his wrist with your hand.

‘Too sensitive’ you huffed out, causing Cillian to smirk and, only when you pressed your hands against Cillian’s chest, he reluctantly pulled out of you.

But he wasn’t done with you yet and, before you knew it, he pulled you off the table and spun you around.

Willingly, you leaned forward, your face pressing against the hard wood of the kitchen table while you spread your legs widely, allowing him better access to your wet mound.  

It didn’t take him long to line himself up with your entrance and, as the lips of your wet pussy parted to receive the head of his cock, he could hear you moan over the drumming rain outside. You immediately pushed back against him, forcing him inside of you a little deeper.

‘That’s it, push back against my cock’ Cillian instructed as he loved seeing your figure arched with pleasure before him and his cock buried inside you. What on earth was he missing out on for twelve years, he wondered?

The first loud rumbles of the thunder outside drowned out the first fleshy slaps of his thighs against your ass as he started to pump himself in and out of the wet grip of your pussy. The feeling of pleasure on his cock was so exquisite that for a moment he could not contain the urge to pound you harder.

‘Oh god yes, Cillian fuck me’ you moaned as he thrust deeper and faster into you, enjoying the feel of you hungrily pressing against him.

‘You like being taken like this don’t you? Pinned down and fucked hard?’ Cillian groaned as your moans had become loud enough now to be heard over the storm raging outside.

‘Yes, oh god yes, Cillian, please don’t stop’ you screamed out as you could feel another orgasm building as he pumped away.

By this point, Cillian’s cock was also screaming for release and you crying out beneath him didn’t help his urge to cum.

‘Harder’ you cried out and Cillian began to piston into you with rapid sharp strokes. You dug your nails into the table to brace against the pounding as Cillian drilled you as hard as he could.

Just as he continued to thrust in and out of you, he reached one of his hands between your legs to massage your clit again. The hard slap of his body against your tight ass was loud and he felt the sweat prickling on his body. The scent of your sex was filling the kitchen and, before long, your moans turned to gasps and little sharp cries of pleasure and Cillian felt your body shudder against his as you came.

‘Oh god Cillian, yes fuck, yes’ you shouted out as your second orgasm washed over you and you indulged in the pleasure he gave you by calling out his name.

‘Jesus Y/N, fuck’ Cillian groaned as his balls tingled with his own building climax. Cillian pulled you back into him by the hips and thrust as deeply into your pussy as he could as the first waves of his orgasm broke.

The eruption was intense. The spasms of pleasure were joined with the satisfying feeling of spurts of his semen flooding deep into your body. He kept pumping, though now slowly, even after the pulsing in his crotch subsided.

You sighed your contentment. The feel of your pussy milking the last drops from his now hyper-sensitive cock was delightful torture and Cillian groaned almost in agony.

You giggled and lifted your body up and, as you did so, Cillian’s cock slipped free of the embrace of your pussy.

‘So fucking sexy, leaking all my cum from your pussy’ Cillian then observed as he ran one of his fingers through your mound again, collecting some of his semen before guiding it up to your mouth.

‘Hmm, I like the way you taste. Took me only 12 years to find out’ you grinned as you suggestively licked his cum from his fingers.

‘I didn’t ever think that this would actually happen, seeing my cock inside you’ Cillian chuckled.

‘Tell me about it’ you said before giving Cillian a quick kiss. ‘By the way, nice dirty talk, I like it’ you then smirked, being rather surprised by your friend’s dirty vocabulary.

‘You’ve heard nothing yet’ Cillian said as he was getting dressed again.

‘Coffee?’ you then asked before walking over towards the coffee machine completely naked, wiggling your butt on full display.

‘Uhm sure, thanks’ Cillian laughed before putting his briefs back on and sitting down at the table while he watched you still somewhat in disbelieve.

***

After you got on with your chores and tasks for the day, you decided to finally call Laura to have this difficult conversation with her.

But, she didn’t pick up any of your calls and, instead, sent you a text message.

‘Can’t talk right now’ was all it said.

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[seasonofthewicth]

Rowaelin Month - Day 9

prompt: co-hosts with chemistry

extras: podcaster!rowaelin, friends to lovers, tooth-rotting fluff!

word count: 2k

--

The podcast had originally been Lysandra’s idea.

She had deemed their regular conversations dissecting each of their dating lives too entertaining to keep to themselves and so it had begun. It hadn’t been very successful and they had only managed to wrangle a small number of subscribers, mostly consisting of their friends and reluctant family members. They’d had fun, but when Lysandra moved to the Southern Continent they hadn’t bothered to keep it up.

Then Aelin got drunk with Fenrys and his new roommate Rowan.

Her drunken self had thought it a fabulous idea to whip out her phone and hit record when Fenrys had begun to weave his story of the beautiful Asterin and her ruthless rejection, Rowan chipping in with quips that always made her cheeks feel a little warmer. That and the sparkle in his green eyes each time he looked at her.

She’d been intrigued by Rowan on day one. He was everything Aelin felt herself drawn to in one big package. Tall, handsome, tattoos, wicked sense of humour, didn’t take any shit, constantly gave her shit. She was charmed.

Until the podcast had taken off.

The inebriated episode featuring Fenrys and Rowan had landed her with a few thousand subscribers. And she had wanted to continue.

Fenrys had rejected her outright, claiming he didn’t need any more public humiliation, the Asterin story had been enough and she understood, but Rowan…

She’s not sure why she even asked Rowan. They weren’t friends, the episode they’d recorded had been the first night they met and they hadn’t spoken since but she’d laid the offer on the table anyway. Despite the fact that hearing all about Rowan Whitethorn’s dating exploits made her stomach twist.

What she knew of Rowan had told her he’d say no too. He hadn’t given her the impression of being particularly easy going, or that spending time with her in the absence of Fenrys would have been something he would consider. In fact, she’d wondered if he’d thought her desire to chat about something as frivolous as dating would be somewhat shallow or childish.

But then he’d said yes.

And so began their tradition. Every Thursday after his final class of the day and Aelin gets home from her office, she uncorks a bottle of wine and makes dinner. Rowan turns up at eight pm sharp each week, armed with a slice of chocolate hazelnut cake and his lilting and charming accent. They set themselves up at the desk in Aelin’s spare bedroom, each with a set of headphones and a microphone and they talk.

That started eight months ago.

Now they have hundreds of thousands of listeners, people who for some unknown reason like to listen to Aelin and Rowan. Aelin doesn’t get it, but here they are.

Aelin tucks her feet under her thighs and rests the arm holding her wine glass along the back of the sofa. They’ve just finished this week’s episode and she’s not ready for Rowan to leave just yet. He turns to her at the motion, a brow cocked in questioning. He looks good, very good.

The light from her TV highlights the cut of his jaw and plays off the silver strands of his hair, flopping onto his forehead. The green of his henley perfectly displays his golden skin and she’s desperately searching for glances of the swirls of ink that peek out of his neckline each time he shifts.

She thought that by spending more time with him her crush would fade. Except now she definitely has a thing for someone who has turned into one of her best friends.

“What’s up with you?” he asks, so aware by now of her moods. He knows when to wait and when to push her, when to joke and when to keep it real.

Aelin shrugs and the motion dislodges her neckline from her shoulder to part way down her arm. Rowan’s eyes dart down tracking the motion but flash back to hers once she speaks.

“I’m thinking about where we go next,” she says slowly. “I don’t know about you but I’m not dating very much recently and I wonder if I’m running out of funny dating stories.”

Rowan’s lips twitch and she uses the time before he speaks to desperately wonder what’s going on in his head. Then he moves his hand to her knee, his touch a comfort and a thrill, and her mind can only focus on that. Can only focus on how good it feels for him to touch her. She doesn’t have the capacity to worry where his head is at when his hands are on her.

“It’s not just you,” he says, on the same wavelength as her as always. “I don’t find myself on many dates anymore.”

He says it without even a whisper of shame, like he’s confident in why that is.

“I can’t tell if I’m thinking too much about the podcast,” she admits, “or if I just don’t want to do it anymore.”

He’s silent, which she usually uses as her prompt to continue, but his hand stays on her knee.

“I have an idea,” she says, shocked again as his eyes meet hers. “It won’t last forever, but I think it could give us a few episodes at least. We turn to other people. We get listeners to share their experiences, their horror stories, their life lessons, their advice, their failures. We give our comments, we compare them, we’re funny. I think it could work.”

She’s so nervous for his thoughts, his opinions matter to her, she wants his approval.

“I think it’s a great idea,” he says as a soft smile creeps onto his lips, tugging up his cheek and she wants to press her lips right there. “We can get people to submit their best stories, review them, add our own additions and commentary and we’re good for a while.”

He pauses, as though there’s more he wants to say. His hand on her knee squeezes and she craves more of his touch, wants his hand to slide higher, wants his fingers to entwine with hers.

Then he says, “I have an idea for an episode.”

She cocks her brow but he shakes his head.

“I need to think it through some more but I’ll let you know as soon as I have a more solid idea.”

It works and she’s relieved her lack of desire to date anyone who isn’t six foot four, silver haired and named Rowan Whitethorn hasn’t needed any expansion and hasn’t so far caused any major problems. Apart from the fact she finds herself getting lost when he talks, unable to respond right away because she’s too busy staring at his lips, his hands, his everything as he speaks.

She’s sure he’s probably noticed but he kindly hasn’t commented.

The idea to get content from their listeners leads her down a path she’s somewhat shocked to realise exists. She’s been trawling twitter to find their content and interacting with a lot more of their listeners and it’s led her to a small corner of twitter dedicated to her and Rowan.

She scrolls and scrolls through tweets that are convinced she and Rowan are either married, fucking or in love. Or if not yet already, they need to be. Aelin doesn’t disagree necessarily, but it’s weird to know people are thinking that, let alone tweeting it.

@/crochanqueen: Aelin’s laugh every time Rowan says something slightly amusing…. girl you’ve got it bad. He’s not that funny.

Gods, she hopes Rowan hasn’t seen these tweets. She needs to watch when she laughs.

“Next submission,” Rowan says, leaning forwards and speaking into his mic. He’s in his usual chair across from her and she has almost unlimited access to the sight of him in all his glory. No wonder it’s hard to concentrate when they record. “This guy says hi, I’ve got it bad for my best friend.”

Aelin swallows. She definitely needs to watch herself for this one.

“A tale as old as time,” she says with a breezy laugh.

“Right,” Rowan says, a tightness to his voice that wasn’t there before, before he turns back to his phone to continue reading. “We’ve known each other for a while now and we spend a lot of time together just the two of us and it’s as easy as breathing. We get along incredibly well, she makes me laugh and she makes me smile. She brightens my day.”

“Gods, this is so sweet,” she coos and Rowan gives her a tight smile. Okay, she’ll let him finish.

“She’s my best friend,” Rowan continues and Aelin bites her lip. “I want more but I don’t want to ruin what we have if she doesn’t feel the same.”

“Hm,” she says, twisting her hands on the table in front of her. She has to manage this one carefully, so as not to give too much away. “Is there any indication of whether she feels the same way?”

Rowan glances back to his phone. “He says; there are moments where I think she feels the same, there are moments where I think I could press my lips to hers and she’d kiss me back. There are moments she looks at me and it looks as though it would be impossible for her not to feel the way I do.”

“She sounds like a lucky girl,” Aelin says almost wistfully.

“You think?” Rowan asks, and she’s not sure his question makes sense.

“Don’t you?” she asks. “If they have these moments, moments where he could kiss her and she’d kiss him back, the moments where they get lost in each other's eyes, I don’t think those things can be made up.”

She ignores the way she always feels as though she catches herself in these moments with Rowan. She ignores them and plows straight on through.

“If he’s having these thoughts enough that they feel like a moment, they probably are.”

“Damn, Aelin.” Rowan smiles across the table. “Any advice for the poor guy?”

“Oh, it’s simple,” she says smoothly, “he has to tell her how he feels. Don’t waste any more time, if you’re reading her this way and she’s your best friend I think there’s very little chance you’ve got this wrong. If you’re listening to this,” she says leaning forwards so her voice is clear in the recording, “get the girl. Take a chance, tell her how you feel. Start small, ask her to go on a date.”

Rowan nods, the movement a sharp jerk but a smile plays on his lips. He looks up to her, his eyes meeting hers.

“Alright, Aelin. Go out with me. A date.”

She laughs, a bright sound, not allowing herself to jump to conclusions. “Is that what it says?”

His eyes flick back to his phone before he locks it and slides it onto the table. “It doesn’t say anything.”

“What do you mean?”

She’s very confused now. Is he playing with her? Has he noticed the way she feels? Surely Rowan isn’t so cruel to mock her like this.

“There’s no submission, it’s me, it’s you. Go out with me Aelin?”

Her mouth drops open.

“Go out with you? You like me?”

She’s stunned okay? Cut her a little slack.

He laughs, a hand coming up to rub at the back of his neck. “This was quite possibly not my best idea,” he says. “To go about it like this. I thought it would have worked well.”

“You’re serious?” she says, a smile creeping into her voice.

“As a heart attack.”

She pulls her headset off, needing to feel this moment just the two of them. Rowan does the same, vulnerability shining in his gorgeous, green eyes.

“Rowan,” she breathes. “I’ve been into you since day one. I thought there was no way you were interested in me.”

She stands, rising from her chair and almost floating over to him until she stands between his legs. She gently rests a hand on his shoulder as she leans down. His hands come up to her waist and pull her onto his lap.

She settles with a smile as she reaches up to cup his cheek in her palm.

“I’ll edit this out tomorrow,” is all she says before she closes the gap between them, pressing her lips to his, sealing it with a kiss.

[shokobuns]

something sweet

maybe having someone to help you out in the stockroom wasn't so bad after all.

PAIRING: itadori yuuji x reader

GENRE: fluff, strangers to lovers

WORD COUNT: 2.5k

WARNINGS: almost stabbed, mentions of sharp things (boxcutters and broken glass), making out

it’s not like you had a problem with the same menial tasks everyday.

in fact, you would even say that it was a fun way to spend your free period. it was better than doing some complicated assignment or even having to talk to people with your lack of sleep and patience. coffee never allowed for a proper nap no matter how exhausted you were and your teacher wouldn’t allow that anyways.

it was an easy job that you could do with minimal help. all you had to do was put the beakers away, clean up the floor once in awhile, maybe pop some bubble wrap when new packages arrived. being alone in the stockroom was nice because you were able to turn on some music on your headphones, do whatever dances you felt like doing as long as you were still doing your job. no help was needed or wanted.

“where should i put this?”

you jump, nearly stabbing the blonde haired boy behind you with a boxcutter. luckily, he was quick, jumping backwards with a yelp as you took a deep breath in to process the situation. you didn’t accidentally hurt the boy in front of you, did you? your face falls and the initial rush of fear turns into guilt. “i’m sorry! i didn’t know you were there!”

“it’s okay,’ he responds with a smile, unphased by the fact his shirt had almost been slashed, ‘i understand. you’re probably here alone most of the time, right?”

“yeah, i wasn’t expecting for anyone else to be here,” you sigh before realizing what he had probably walked in on before the whole ordeal, “wait.. did you see me doing anything?”

“you’re a pretty good dancer if that’s what you’re asking.”

embarrassment. your cheeks feel unbelievably hot and your stomach turns while embarrassment settles in your body. this period was your alone time, your chance to flail about and having someone else witness it? definitely not preferable. although, he does seem nice and he hasn’t made fun of you. not yet, at least.

his voice brings you out of your train of thought. “so, where should i put that thing?”

he carries on as if nothing happened. thank god. “the flask goes in that cabinet, bottom shelf. you’ll see more just like it.” you reply, pointing to the space.

he mumbles a quick thank you before doing unloading more of the new flasks onto the cabinet. you work on your own, choosing to count the new magnets on the other side of the room, doing your best to avoid him considering you just embarrassed yourself in front of the stranger by nearly injuring him for asking a simple question. though, he looks slightly familiar, he’ll probably be gone tomorrow and that’s all that matters.

behind you, yuji takes small glances while he puts away the flasks, waiting for you to turn around and ask for his name. hell, he’s waiting for any type of question. after all, who sees a random boy in their work space and doesn’t question it at all?

when the next day comes, you’re proven wrong because he sits in the chair, awaiting another order from you. you curse under your breath before putting on a faux smile. “do you need help with anything?”

“do you need help with anything?”

“no, thanks. i’m good on my own. you can go back to whatever you do in this period.”

he scratches his head, eyebrows furrowing together. “i thought you needed help. that’s what my math teacher told me when he sent me here.”

“not really? i can usually get a lot done on my own. who told you i needed help?”

“gojo. i’m his teacher assistant, but i don’t know how to do the math he’s teaching, so i can’t really help anyone.” he explains

“oh, yeah! i had him for calculus last semester,” your eyes light up at the mention of your favorite white haired mentor, “weird guy. good teacher.”

wait. gojo’s teacher assistant?

you’ve heard your friends talk about him, given that they were in that exact class the blonde haired boy was supposed to be in right now. the one guy that pe teachers fawn over and coaches try to recruit? why did they put him in the math department instead of pe? what’s his name again? yuki? yugi?

“you’re yuji itadori?”

“yuji itadori.” he confirms and you’re relieved. good thing you didn’t mess up his name.

no wonder he looked familiar. miwa was fascinated by his physical ability, you distinctly remember her pointing him out during lunch and telling you about how he was ‘scarily fast’ and could probably ‘lift ten of her at a time.’ although, it was from far away and he was partially blocked by a girl with short brown hair and megumi, the intimidating spikey haired quiet boy in some of your classes.

but yuji didn’t look like someone who could lift ten miwas up close. maybe he was hiding behind the oversized hoodie he wore, but he was a kind looking boy with wide eyes and messy tufts of strawberry blonde hair. throughout the short time you’ve seen him up close, he always had a slight smile on his resting face. in short, he looked approachable and was seemingly friendly.

“so, do you need help with anything?” he asks again and you decide that maybe he can be of use to you. especially if he has the strength that miwa had described.

“actually, yeah. can you lift those boxes over there and bring them to the other side of the room? they’re kind of heavy-”

she was correct because he lifts the box, which is supposedly about thirty kilograms according to your teacher, with ease. now, you don’t have to constantly go back and forth around the room just to put the packaged metal away in a farther cabinet and he can probably just put them away himself, too. it goes that way for the next hour and a half, both of you staying in your respective sides of the room, putting away your own respective items.

“thanks, itadori.”

“call me yuji.”

“will do.”

over the next two weeks, you two don’t talk as much as yuji had hoped.

he still remembers gojo’s words of encouragement, his push to get his favorite student to talk to the person who drops off notes to the teacher across the hallway from time to time. he’s never talked to you and he doubts you would even know that he existed in the first place. in fact, he was perfectly content with just stapling the papers that gojo would give him, maybe getting his own homework done in the period, but he was insistent.

“i’ve seen you staring outside the window whenever they pass by, yuji. just talk to them.”

“it’s okay.’

“no it’s not. get to know her. what if they’re nice? hmmmmm?”

“i’ll talk to her myself at some point.”

that was all it took for gojo to leave him alone, not that he didn’t like gojo or anything, especially with gojo being his second favorite teacher in the first place, but he’s content with his little crush. and again, he doubted that you would remember him in your history class and from the looks of it, he was right.

he just didn’t expect to be sent at the very stockroom that you would be in. for the rest of the semester. gojo had definitely set him up for something.

yuji was in that conflicting position in which he didn’t know whether to start a conversation or not because he didn’t want to bother you. but he also wanted to get to know you up close. of course he can sense your exhaustion himself through droopy eyelids that threaten to close and your dependence on caffeine, something he had learned about you so far in these few weeks. the only thing, it seems like.

as for you, a short talk with your science teacher confirmed that he wouldn’t be leaving anytime soon and though you will miss dancing around the stockroom by yourself, he wasn’t bad company. he mostly kept to himself, often being more rigid when you barely spared him a glance. at the times you would speak to him, he seemed more excitable and easygoing, listening to every word you say.

“yuji?”

“hmm?”

“come help me by unboxing these beakers, alright?” you patted the spot next to you before sliding the blade down the tape, “don’t worry. i’m not gonna stab you.”

“i guess i’ll help,” he snorts, “don’t you usually do these by yourself?”

“yeah, but since you’re spending the semester with me in here, we might as well get to know each other right?”

the whirring of the fan, the sound of your voice — it all seemed to fade into the background as his heart thumped hard in his chest. a million thoughts, both good and bad, race through his head as he formulated different questions, answers, and scenarios in his mind, all of them being a jumble of fantasy and panic.

you wave a hand in front of his face in an attempt to catch his attention. he seemed completely frozen, staring at you with dead eyes and it’s now that you realize you haven’t seen him up this close. honey brown eyes, the soft curve of his nose, and were those crinkles under his eyes, too? up until now, you only knew him as the ‘athletic man who was bad at math’, but he was also undeniably beautiful with his carved face and strawberry blonde hair.

“yuuuuuuuji?”

“oh! i’m sorry! did you say you wanted to get to know me?”

“yeah, we’re kind of stuck in this room everyday for an hour and a half together. i might as well find out what your favorite color is or something.”

“red! my turn! what were you listening to when you almost stabbed me?”

“hey! it was an accident!” he giggles, slicing the tape seal down the middle and opening up the package and pointing right at it. “you see that? that could have been me. i should at least know what i’m being stabbed to.”

“meg thee stallion..”

“nevermind. she’s beautiful and i wouldn’t mind dying to her music.”

you snort, thinking up another question. maybe you should ask him about why that megumi guy was so gloomy? nope, might get too personal. what about the reason he’s here? nope, you already know.

“why don’t you do any sports even though you’re literally physically gifted?” you ask curiously. there’s still a smile on his face, but his expression becomes more wistful. you didn’t accidentally hit a spot, did you?

“my grandpa is in the hospital,” oh shit, you think, “i visit him everyday and if i was on a team, i would have to go to practice at the same time.”

“i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to hit a sensitive topic, but that’s sweet of you.’

“i don’t mind. and i’m sorry if i made you uncomfortable.”

“no, it’s alright. let’s just keep asking questions then, okay?”

he nods.

in one hour, you learn that yuji itadori also likes karaoke, rice bowls, and that he’s just as bad at science than math. ironic. and yuji enjoys getting to know more about you, falling into easy conversation, becoming less of a nervous wreck. the more you speak, the deeper he falls into the trance and he silently thanks gojo for letting him get a closer look because you’re even better than what he could have imagined.

but the period is coming to an end and it’s time for him to carry off the last box of beakers to his side of the room. at least there’s time for another question and it’s his turn to ask.

“what’s your type?”

you place your fingers on your chin as you think for a moment, finding a common trait in every crush for a proper answer.

“i guess my type would be sweet boys. with pretty faces, like you, i guess.”

the response is nonchalant and you don’t think twice about it. maybe you were a little too tired to process how he’d interpret it or maybe a little too tired to filter yourself, but it slips out of your mouth like butter and you’re completely unphased. shameless, even.

meanwhile, the box drops to the ground and like before, every other noise besides his own heartbeat fades into the background, even the sound of shattering glass. heat creeps of his neck into his cheeks until his face is burning, his feet stuck in their place and his palms becoming uncomfortably sweaty. his mouth is wide open, but no words come out.

“yuji! we need to clean this, hurry up!”

your voice brings him out of his thoughts as he realizes what’s been done and immediately snaps back to carefully, but quickly, picking up the shards of glass and placing them in this box. “i-i’m sorry!”

“don’t worry. just leave the box on the counter and we’ll deal with it tomorrow.”

maybe you didn’t quite realize what you had said or what effect you had on him during that time in the stockroom because you continue everyday as if nothing happened.

it’s been, what? a little over a three weeks? and sitting next to you still causes his mind to go to odd places, ones with you. he starts to notice little things about you, too. how your tongue peaks out of your mouth when you’re peeling another sheet of bubble wrap off of some glassware, how you only count in even numbers when you take inventory of the containers.

god, you were adorable.

“yuji?”

“yeah?”

“did gojo ever tell you that there’s no cameras in here?”

“no? i thought they had security cameras everywhere.”

“that’s only hallways and classrooms. there’s none of them here. do you know what that means?”

“what?”

his head is already turned in your direction, the perfect opportunity to lean in and catch his lips. it’s small and he’s hesitant at first, but before you know it, your hands tangle in his hair, bringing him closer to you. he tastes like something sweet, like cherries, and his lips are warm. one hand rests on your cheek, his thumb brushing against it endearingly. when he pulls away, both of you are panting for air, the packages long forgotten.

“this sounds bad, but i’m glad that you’re terrible at math.”

“thanks.” he laughs and admires the look of your heated cheeks and swollen lips before pulling you back in for another searing kiss.

sure. being in that room by yourself could be fun, a perfect break with menial tasks lacking human interaction. you were far too tired to be patient with other people. but there was an exception.

© this is a work of @crybabygumi, all rights reserved. do not plagiarize, copy, or repost.

[dinner-djarin]

dar'manda (Mando x f!reader)

Chapter 1: The Only Way Out is Through

Summary: Things have been quiet since The Mandalorian's disappearing act on Nevarro. However, things change quickly at his sudden return, and the changes are sure to impact your own life. That is, if you don't screw it up for yourself.

Warnings: Canon typical violence, yearning/awkward flirting/reader doesn’t know how to act around Mando, Cara Dune lol (I feel like she needs a warning)

Word Count: 3.8k

Prologue - Next

In the weeks that the Mandalorian had been gone, things on Nevarro had taken a turn for the worse. Ever since making his grand escape, remaining Imperial officers seemed to get word of a Mandalorian bounty hunter gone rogue. He took some sort of “package” right out of their hands, and they really didn’t like that. So, they sent out every bounty hunter idiotic enough to go after a Mandalorian. And to double their efforts, they effectively made Nevarro their new base.

Well, that probably wasn’t exactly accurate, but either way it seemed like every stormtrooper left was sent to keep watch in case their prize ever returned.

You could not imagine that anyone would be stupid enough to come back to the place where they so flagrantly disregarded every rule of the Guild, and yet – there he was. Walking into town at the side of his...former boss. As he approached however, you noticed he probably wasn't there by choice. His hands were bound in front of him, and a muscley looking woman, with a very large gun, was not too far behind them. Well then, you think to yourself, I guess no one crosses the Guild, not even Mando.

Just as they enter town you being to consider the precarity of your own situation. With the town being occupied by stormtroopers, times are tough. Curfews have been put in place and wandering through town is highly discouraged. The marketplace has turned into a ghost town as people have become less and less inclined to spend time outside of their homes. They might come by for the basics, but business is definitely not what it used to be. So, you often find yourself with “free time” – moments you should realistically be working – where you instead spy on the invaders who have ruined your already unpleasant life. Basically, the exact thing you were doing in that very moment.

It's a matter of fate that he showed up just as you made your way to the town entrance. Even more so when you overhear a conversation between the Guild leader and the Mandalorians captor.

“Things got really heated once Mando crashed the safehouse” you hear the Guild leader say.

“Slip him his blaster” whispers the woman. These words bring you utter confusion. Did she mean slip Mando his blaster?

“Not yet,” he says under his breath.

And suddenly you are more confused than before. Why would she say something like that? How did any of this make sense? You’re thankful you were not seen as they pass by you, but you think you perceive a subtle change in the reflection from the shiny metal helmet that your eyes have been locked on to. His gaze fell to the metal orb that was trailing the trio through the city centre. When he looked back up however, he did not return his gaze to the direction he had been looking previously. Now you think, and you know it’s completely self-centred of you to do so, but you feel like he is staring straight at you. You don't think he would be able to see into the shadows that were providing your cover, but something about the angle of his visor as he walks by sends a shiver down your spine.

The three of them and the metal orb enter the cantina and you adjust your position in attempt for a better view. Only a few minutes later does a blaster shot eviscerate the long transparisteel window on the front wall of the building, allowing you a glimpse of the chaos inside. A plethora of various blaster bolts ricochet through the building, evidence that the situation was drastically more complicated than you initially observed. However, the next events prove that things could still get worse for the group inside.

From the safety of your hiding spot, you see the scene unfold. The entire courtyard of the village is filled with stormtroopers in seconds, and then you hear it. The unmistakable screech that has haunted you since you were young. A sound that would forever be branded into your head, as it signaled the end of your childhood. The last time you heard that sound was the last time you saw your father and brother.

The Tie Fighter lands right in front of the cantina, completely blocking your view of any further events. You take that as your sign to get the hell out of there, knowing the level of destruction that is sure to follow. Even with the high amount of adrenaline pumping through your veins, you manage to keep a level head and find your way back to the marketplace, where most other citizens are gathered.

You quickly alert everyone to the impending danger nearby, and although some are slow to react, they begin to gather their belongings and search for safety.

Luckily, you recall a nearby alley that would lead to the part of town furthest away from the calamity, and you tell them all to make their way there immediately. Once you were sure that no one was left behind you head towards the alley only for an explosion to go off somewhere near the cantina. And although the source of the blast is far enough away not to injure you, the shockwave ripples through a one of the buildings, whose integrity was already questionable, causing it to crumble and block your previously secure exit route. With your mind in panic mode, you glance over to a spot which had caught your eye a hundred times before, a spot you kept noticing the Mandalorian disappear to.

You quickly run for cover hoping no other buildings decide to fall apart in the meantime, and you find the passageway was actually concealing a staircase which led to the sewers. Unsure of where to go next, your adrenaline high mind keeps you moving fast, taking random turns, having no understanding of where the tunnels lead to and where the safest exit may be. It wasn't until you rapidly took a corner and ran straight into an armoured chest plate that your mind stopped running wild.

A few second too late you realize it wasn’t the armour you would have hoped to see. The Mandalorians captor stands in front of you, with a package wrapped in her arms. Beside her is the Guild leader. You stand there dumbstruck and panting, unsure of what move to make.

The Guild leader approaches you, but you recoil, stepping back.

“What did you do to him?” is all you can think to growl at them.

“He’s just sleeping.” She attempts to assure you, “Wait how do you know the kid?” the woman asks, evidently confused by your accusation.

“What kid? No, the Mandalorian. You captured him. I saw you two walk in to town with him handcuffed”

“Young lady, I think you are confused. Please allow me to explain our situation.” the leader states, taking another step closer to you. This time you stand your ground, making clear you want answers.

He explains his name is Greef Karga, and the woman is Cara Dune, an ex-rebel shock trooper. And despite walking into town with Mando handcuffed by their sides, they were actually all in on the plan together. However, it seems that once they got inside things went south, a habit Mando seemed to be making for himself. It turns out that this elaborate scheme was set in place in an attempt to save a tiny green baby from the Empire, which now rests in the woman’s – Cara’s – arms.

You have no idea what to think. There's no way any of this can be true. Although, you then recall the conversation you overheard as they entered the town, and everything else seems to line up with your own experiences of the past hour.

You also realize that the Child must be the reason Mando went rogue in the first place. And after sneaking a peak at his resting wrinkly face, you completely understand why. After only one look, you’d probably jump in front of speeder for that little guy.

But before you can make up your mind on whether to believe Karga or not, Mando rounds the corner being supported by a very tall, very thin droid that you recognize to be an IG unit. As they approach, Cara hands off the baby to the droid and attempts to support Mando, and for some maker-forsaken reason you decide to help too. As you slide your arm under Mando’s shoulder and rest your hand on his back you feel him tense – you know you’ve made a mistake. But it’s too late to turn back now, so you carry some of his weight and continue on down the ominous path. The only way out, is through.

Your mind is running at 100 parsecs per hour. This is the closest, physically, you’ve been to anyone in years, and if that weren't enough you seem to be in the middle of both your wildest dream and worst nightmare. You can’t remember the last time you were tucked under someone's arm, and pressed up against them so tightly, if you ever were. And in your panicked state you start to realize you’ve basically been holding your breath this whole time, making your heart beat erratically and your head throb. But just as you think you might pass out from your stupidity, the Mandalorians voice shakes you back to reality.

“Stop.” His word sends you into a new panic. Were you thinking out loud? Could he read your heartbeat through his helmet? Did he know what a complete mess you were at his touch? “I can stand,” he says, finishing his thought.

Oh thank the gods.

He lets go of you and switches something in his helmet to look for tracks, and you allow yourself to finally take a deep breath.

“We’re close,” he states. After a moment of stabilizing your heartbeat and focussing on your breath900, you quicken your pace, subtly placing yourself just behind Mando’s left shoulder as he leads the group through the tunnel. You’re close enough to catch when he mumbles, “I know you.”

“And I know you,” you respond playfully, disregarding the severity of the situation you’ve found yourself in. You’re not quite sure how Mando’s mere presence can affect you so brutally, to the point of forgetting how to act like a normal human being.

“From the market.” He doesn’t ask.

“That’s me, good to see you in one piece. I was worried when I heard about the stunt you pulled. Crossing the guild...not sure I've ever heard of anyone getting away with that.” Oh man why are you talking so much. You just need to shut up now. Literally no one wants to hear-

“Worried?” a hint of genuine curiosity hidden in his question. Well of course he found the one word in your entire sentence that incriminates you. There’s no way he doesn’t know about your crush now.

“Umm well of course, I think everyone was. It’s all anyone could talk about for weeks. Nothing that exciting has happened around here in a while,” you quickly blurt out. He turns his head for a moment and examines you.

He is silent, evidently noticing the way you awkwardly avoided his question. You stare at him trying with every muscle in your face to remain composed. You know he sees right through you – must be that bullshit reader – but you think if you maintain eye contact long enough, he’ll just move on from your stupidity. And he does.

“How did you get here?” He returns to his task of following footprints. The question and abrupt change in topic jars you, although if you had to guess, you think he must have picked up on your complete awkwardness, possibly confusing it for suspicious behaviour. You hope he doesn’t think you untrustworthy because if it.

“There were explosions, and I tried to help everyone out, but the path became blocked and the only way out was some curtain hiding a staircase.” Your explanation, you realize, now sounds completely ridiculous, especially in the flustered manner you are depicting it in. Even so, you continue, “I went to hide but it turns out it led straight down here. So, I tried to find an exit, but I bumped into them instead,” you finish, glancing behind you towards Cara and Karga.

“If you came in from the market you should have passed the covert,” Mando stated almost accusingly, increasing your worry over whether he thought trusted your story.

“I’m not sure I didn’t really see any-” but his question is immediately answered by the pile of discarded Mandalorian armour in front of you.

The Mandalorian stops, and you can see just how suddenly his body language changed. Even injured, he looked deadly as he led you through the tunnels, but at the sight of the remnants of his clan, he is weak. You can feel the sadness, remorse, and pain emanating from him all at once. And as you stand beside him you barely realize you’ve gently reached for his hand, gripping it tight and squeezing it to convey your condolence for his immense loss.

But after a moment, he moved forward and away from your grasp to kneel at the sight of his fallen brethren. Cara suggests the group leave, but he won’t. He will not leave the armour in its discarded state.

Suddenly, the mood shifts, and you see the Mandalorian transform before your eyes. He storms towards Karga, accusing that he and the Guild members must be responsible. Karga denies, but you think Mando might be on the verge of strangling him when suddenly another modulated voice fills the tunnel.

A golden warrior stands before you. Her presence shocks you. It reveals some element rooted deep, a feeling you can only describe as warm… or familiar? She explains, as she gathers the scattered armour, how revealing the covert brought the presence of Imperials. When Mando offers her to join him, she rejects, maintaining that her place is to gather the remains of her people.

You all follow her into a small room with a forge in the centre of it. “Show me the one who’s safety deemed such destruction,” she demands.

“This is the one,” Mando responds. Gesturing to the baby that was wrapped tight to the IG unit’s chest.

“This is the one that you hunted, then saved?” she asks.

“Yes. The one that saved me as well.” And with that statement you find both an answer, and more questions. That baby saved him? How the-

“From the mudhorn?” she asks.

“Yes.” he responds, making you even more confused than ever. The baby saved him from a mudhorn?

“It looks helpless” she states.

“It’s injured, but it is not helpless. Its species can move objects with its mind.” As if this conversation could get any weirder. Move objects...with its MIND.

The Armourer begins to detail battles between Mandalore the Great and some species of wizards; the species this child belongs to. She also tells Mando that he is now responsible for the baby – his foundling. And finally, she tasks him with finding these sorcerers and returning the baby to them. When Mando questions the outrageous turn of events the woman has only four words in response:

“This is the Way.” Suddenly that warm comfort you felt before resurges, but only for a moment, as Cara reminds the group of the urgency of their situation. You need to find a way out before Imperials catch your tracks. The Armourer then suggests the group find a river of lava that will lead all of you out of the tunnels. Right…

River of lava, or Imperial Troopers. What the heck did you get yourself into? Either way it seems you don’t have much of a choice. After receiving a mudhorn signet on his pauldron, the Armourer pronounces that he and the child are bound as father and son; a clan of two. Cute little family they’ll make. When the droid gets ready to defend the group from incoming Imps, it hands Cara the child who looks very uncomfortable with it, so she passes him to you.

Stunned and confused you look to the Mandalorian who shows no sign of discomfort with you holding his now adopted son, not that you’d probably be able to tell. Either way, it seems you’ve acquired a new responsibility.

Blaster fire rings just outside the room as the woman hands Mando some flying contraption, and your group decides you might need to get a move on.

You approach the lava river, only to notice the boat has melted to the docking point. Karga and Mando struggle to free it, but Cara just gives you a smug look. “You boys mind getting out of the way?” she warns only to blast the points where the boat was attached, successfully freeing it from its molten chains.

The boat quickly begins to drift from the dock, but just as you start to lift your foot over the edge to make your way inside, you feel a strong hand against your lower back, guiding you the rest of the way. Once you steady yourself on the boat you glance up at the visor which is pinned straight ahead, unwavering and unwilling to meet your gaze. His seemingly disinterested reaction makes you anxious to know the true intention of his touch. He must just realize your safety is attached to the bundle you are currently cradling against your chest. Obviously, he is only looking out for the child, you just happen to be the person responsible for his transportation. If Cara were the one holding his son, he’d probably be helping her instead. Right? Simple as that.

Even so, you can't help but notice the way his hand flexes after it returns to his side.

For just a moment your mind slips, and you let yourself think that there might be something there. That the short conversations and fleeting looks shared all those weeks ago might have held more weight than you believed. That when you were admiring his head-to-toe armor upgrade, he may have been examining you back. That he might have actually liked the fact that you worried about him in his absence. You allow yourself to think that underneath that metal, stands a man who might be gentle, and kind. A man who helps you into a boat when he himself is injured. One who is willing to leave behind everything he knows in order to ensure the security of a child.

You snap back to reality, however, when Karga notices the light at the end of the tunnel. But just when you think that your journey is almost over, Mando informs you otherwise. A battalion of stormtroopers line the edges of your only exit route. No one in your group can come up with any satisfactory solution, until the IG unit comes forward.

“They will not be satisfied with anything less than the child. This is unacceptable. I will eliminate them, and you will escape.”

Mando is quick to point out that the droid would never make it past the troopers, but the droid insists. Apparently, his manufacturer's protocol dictates that he cannot be captured and must self-destruct. He asks that Mando look over the Child once he is gone, and you swear you can hear a hint of sadness through his filtered voice. Your hypothesis is confirmed by the IG unit, and your heart warms slightly for the metal man. The droid reaches over to say goodbye to the child for the last time, patting him gently on the head, then steps into the lava river and heads down towards the mouth of the cave. You all stare silently as you watch him approach the troopers when suddenly-

Fire consumes your vision, and it overwhelms your senses. Not having actually seen an explosion in your life you seem to be the only one on the boat who is at all fazed by the sudden wall of heat and deafening boom created by IG-11’s sacrifice. In the process you cover the child with your body and wince back into the hard wall behind you. Cradling the child and shielding yourself, you almost don’t notice when the wall grabs your hip and steadies you in front of it.

Suddenly, you’re flushed with embarrassment, realizing all at once the wall was the Mandalorian and both of his hands were still gripped onto you, holding you tight against his chest plate.

But your shock only lasts a moment before the unsettling screech of a Tie Fighter pierced your ears for the second time that day. And before you could process, the Mandalorian was using his body as a shield, protecting you and the child from the blasts, and simultaneously shooting at the new threat barreling towards your group.

Will this day ever end, is the only thought in your head before Mando is flying through the air using the jetpack given to him by the Armourer only minutes ago. However, you distinctly remember her saying he would need time to get used to it before it would ‘listen to his commands’. Nevertheless, he jerks through the sky in a desperate attempt to bring the Tie down.

You watch as one of the wings are ripped off by an explosion and the tie crashes to the ground. The Mandalorian lets go just in time and falls quickly towards the ground, igniting his jetpack at the last second to make a rough landing right in front of you.

The child squirms in your arms at the first sign of peace so you set him down gently. He awkwardly runs over to Mando and hugs his leg, creating possibly the cutest sight you had ever seen. Again, your heart can’t help but melt for the new little family, and you wonder how these two are going to get by. A child with magical powers, and a father who’s built to kill. Not a pairing you would bet on.

Cara and Karga then try to convince Mando to stay on Nevarro and help the both of them sort out the aftermath of today's events. But the Mandalorian insists on sticking to his mission. The child is now his first priority and finding a group of near-extinct ancient sorcerers does not sound like easy work.

“We have a long road ahead of us, but the journey is necessary. I must return him to his kind, no matter how long it takes.” You hear him reason with the pair, refusing their kind offers to remain on the planet with them.

If you know one thing about the Mandalorian it's that everything he does is completely intentional. No one could force Mando into something he doesn’t want to do. If he is sure of this path, he will follow it through till the end.

And from your short interactions, you know he spends time forming his thoughts in order to get his point across. Each sentence is carefully crafted so that they are clear and concise. You know he means every word.

Maybe that's why the next words out of his mouth come as a complete shock to you.

“Would you like to join us?” he asks directly to you.

What the kriffing heck did he just say? You're so taken aback that you embarrassingly bark out your response, your brain evidently getting no time to process the question, so instead if vomits out the first word it can think of: “No”.

You follow it with polite ‘thank you’s’, hoping to erase the awkward tension in the air, and the Mandalorian jetpacks off with the child leaving you to dwell on your utter stupidity.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter 2

Notes: Honestly, I hate this chapter too wow. I really spent so long trying to edit this into something I could bare to publish, but I still really hate it. I did not want to write a chapter like this, but I also needed a way to put the reader into the story and the only way I could think to do that was by using an existing episode. So here we are. But I SWEAR, after this it gets good. Like not only does the story get good, but so does my own writing (relatively) so if you just bare through this, I think you’ll enjoy the rest.

Taglist: @peppywitch @tobealostwanderer @thecraftyartist

If you wanna be included in the tag list let me know! The next parts are gonna get great. I hope

[andromedasstarship]

in the stars - chapter 4

photo credit - @ssa-emilyhotchner​

pairing - aaron hotchner x reader 

warnings - canon typical criminal minds, stalking, angst. pretty tame chapter 

summary - “I’m on a date.” You responded flatly. The other end of the line went silent.

a/n - hi besties. so this chapter is p short compared to the last one, i had like  7k something chapter 4 and it just didnt feel right, BUT that means chapter 5 is basically done i just need to edit it soooooooooooo hopefully wont take a long time lol! enjoy, heart yall forever 

masterlist // series masterlist // read it on ao3 

chapter 3 / chapter 5 

-----

The rest of the team was left in various levels of shock. Everyone was struggling to process the bomb of information that had just been revealed. With hindsight, it was easy to connect the strange levels of tension and intimacy that radiated between you and Hotch. What was more difficult to swallow, was the new understanding that Hotch had been keeping this secret for nearly five years. Random ‘trips’ that Hotch would take out of state or the subtle sprinkles of wealth showing up in the form of gifts suddenly made sense. 

This was completely uncharted territory for the entire team. Given Hotch’s history, it wasn’t too difficult to understand how protective he may be of any relationships post-Haley; but the magnitude of your relationship- both in terms of your status as well as length-, and the withholding of information even on the case was a different form of betrayal that couldn’t be kicked under the rug. 

Hotch had always been one of the fiercest advocates for unity, truth and an equal playing field when it came to information concerning a case,- Morgan was still feeling second hand embarrassment for Jordan- for him to be the one to hold back such influential info was difficult to fully wrap their heads around. Anger, of course, was felt and there would certainly be time for that anger- not even getting started on the amount of questions everyone was bound to have-, but as the team was silently processing, they all reached similar conclusions. Hotch was displaying a softness and side of him they hadn’t seen in a very long time and they wouldn’t let their valid frustrations get in the way of solving this case. 

Morgan was the first to speak, pulling his phone out of his pocket. “I need to text Garcia about this.” He said, shaking the phone a bit. Everyone managed to laugh at that, all certain that Garcia would have the most interesting reaction to the news.  

“You know…, the other day when she was giving me a tour of her house, I pointed out a bottle of Dalmore 25 she had on the wall. She got really weird about it and I thought she was trying to play modest, but this, this makes a lot more sense.” JJ remarked lightheartedly. 

“So now we know Hotch has some game then, huh?” Morgan quipped, a large grin on his face. When everyone just stared blankly back at him, even more confused than they already were he continued. “Do you all not remember when he ‘magically’ got a bottle of Dalmore 45, those start at twelve grand” 

Reid was about to open his mouth and add to the conversation, but just as the words were leaving his mouth Hotch stormed back into the conference room. One hand was tightly balled in a fist while the other was gripping his phone. 

“She’s not answering her phone. Three times, it went straight to voicemail.” 

“She isn’t on set today, when she left this morning she told me she had work related errands to run.” Emily recounted, racking her brain for any more info about your whereabouts. 

Hotch strode over to an open laptop at the edge of the table, quickly hitting a series of buttons until a very flustered Garcia appeared on screen; her mouth dropping open when she saw Hotch. 

“Questions later Garcia,” Hotch opened, already anticipating that someone Derek would have informed her of the latest news, “I need you to track Y/N. I want her current and last location.” 

“Yes sir! I uh, I will do that right now for you.” Garcia responded, clearly doing her best to hold back the hoard of questions and comments she had. The sound of her vigorously typing filled the room. “Alright sir, so the bad news is that it looks like her phone is currently turned off, but! The last place it pinged at was outside of Chateau Marmont about three hours ago. Which for those of you who don’t know this place is notorious for being the A-lister hideaway-” 

“Garcia, do a wide search for her name and location for today’s date. Check to see if there’s been any media sightings on her whereabouts.” Hotch ordered. He hadn’t forgotten how uneasy it had made him once he found out how easy it was to locate you. Paparazzi were a different form of ruthless and he’d never realized how difficult it actually was for people in the spotlight until he met you. 

“Let me see…, yes sir you are right! I’m getting a bunch of hits of her entering the-” Garcia’s sentence falling off with an ‘oh’. 

“Garcia, what’d you find?” 

A headline popped up on the screen. 

“Emma Co-Stars Pictured Together Out At Lunch: Has The Love Moved Past The Screen?” 

Underneath, multiple photos of you quickly loaded. There you were, cheerily standing next to your co-star, looking up at him with a big grin on your face. The photos showed the two of you in different positions as you made your way inside. A few of him as he opened the car door for you. One of you with your arm wrapped loosely around his while you walked up the door. One of you ducking under his arm as you entered the restaurant. 

The tension in the room was palpable as everyone did their own mini attempt at profiling the photo. It was difficult, you’d clearly proven to be a great actress and they knew you were capable of manipulating your outward emotions. It was even more difficult considering it was just a handful of mediocre quality photos. 

Hotch was tightly gripping the edge of the table, forcing himself to keep a level head. He knew it was unreasonable to get angry over the idea of you with another man, but it didn’t help the pang in his heart as he recognized the genuine signs of happiness you were emitting. 

“JJ,” Hotch said, voice dangerously calm, “call the restaurant and have them discreetly tell Y/N that ‘Andi’ is calling her.” Discretion was the highest priority for him, the envelope being even further confirmation that the unsub was closely trailing you. The last thing he wanted to do was either trigger a violent reaction or cause him to go underground.

Back when the two of you had been together, out of an abundance of caution, you used to refer to Aaron as ‘Andi’ in public. You hated not being able to thank him in speeches or mention him in any capacity, so this had been your best way around it. 

“Yes sir.” JJ responded, quickly moving out of the room to make the phone call. 

“Garcia, do you have any leads on the kid that dropped off the envelope?” Hotch asked. 

“No sir. The car he left in was reported stolen a few days ago with no leads as to where it went. Camera feeds loose the car about three blocks away and his face was too obstructed to get any hits that way.” 

“Alright, once JJ comes back with confirmation Y/N’s gotten the message, I’m going to pick her up. I want the rest of you to work with Garcia and categorize these photos. Cross reference whatever you can to get a timeline.” Hotch ordered, the rest of the team not being to be told twice. 

-----

“Where the hell are you?” Aaron demanded. 

Even through the phone, you could tell he was absolutely seething. It was bad, by the time you had picked up the phone you’d amassed a total of twenty texts and nearly ten missed calls from Aaron; not even mentioning the individual missed calls you had from each member of the team. It was bad, but in your defense it had been less than an hour from the first missed call to your current response. 

What could you say? You were big on not being on your phone when you were spending time with friends. 

“What do you mean, where the hell am I,” you answered, rolling your eyes as you leaned up against one of the private bathroom countertops. “How did you describe it before Agent? I’m very in ‘demand’.”

You could hear him groan through the phone and wondered if he was running his hands over his face; something he used to always do when you were being difficult; he absolutely was. 

“Y/N-” 

“I’m on a date.” You responded flatly. The other end of the line went silent. As you were debating whether or not you should add the part about it being a publicity date, Aaron’s voice came through. 

“End it. I’m picking you up. The drive there from the station shouldn’t be more than 30 minutes.” Aaron said, his voice dangerously even. 

“I’m perfectly capable of getting back to the station on my own Agent. I don’t need you stirring up an absolute scene-”

“Y/N,” he started, voice commanding in a way that told you he was serious, “a package was delivered to the station today. Filled with hundreds of photos of you over the years,” he paused again and you could hear him take a deep breath before continuing, “there’s photos of us in there. The unsub knows.” 

You went silent, mouth opening over and over, unable to find anything to say. You had always envisioned a world where you and Aaron were some sort of ‘public’ knowledge, but never like this, obviously never like this. 

“Y/N, I need to come get you,” Hotch said, his voice much softer now, “I can’t-, I need to see that you’re safe.” 

“I’ll make something up,” You said quickly, before adding, “there’s a private valet area, I’ll send you the instructions to get past the gates and I’ll let the security know you’re coming to pick me up.” 

“I’ll be there in ten minutes, don’t draw any attention to yourself.” And with that he hung up, leaving you stunned in the bathroom. You gripped the edges of the counter, staring at yourself in the mirror. You wished you could stay in the bathroom for hours, desperately needing some time to privately process what Aaron had told you. 

That wasn’t in the cards for you though, so you quickly did some pointless attempts at ‘straightening’ your appearance- more for your benefit than anything else- before you turned the lock and left back for your table 

You slipped back into your seat across from your friend and co-star Johnny. 

“Your friend alright?” Johnny asked. 

“Yeah, yeah,” you said with a small smile, “she’s fine. But my Agent called me when I was in there, she apparently managed to set up some last minute FBI consult to help me prep for an audition I have coming up. According to her, she ‘pulled a lot of strings for this’.” You said, rolling your eyes. The lie sliding out of your mouth with ease. “Whoever this FBI dude is, is supposed to come pick me up right about,” you looked down at your phone, “now apparently. So I guess our little date has to end early.” You said, giving him an exaggerated sad pout. 

Johnny rolled his eyes at that, giving you a small laugh. The two of you were both equally uninterested, romantically, in each other. But you did get along quite well, so being ‘forced’ into hanging out with each other outside of filming wasn’t bad; you’d probably hang out outside of filming anyway 

“No worries, we still on for running lines later tonight?” He asked. 

You thought for a moment, before nodding. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world. Now, help me flag down the waiter, I want to get one last drink in before I go.” 

-----

About twenty minutes later you found yourself waiting out in the private courtyard of the restaurant. You were doing your best to calm your nerves, this being the first opportunity you had to try and process what Aaron had told you. You should’ve seen it coming, if the stalker was so obsessed with you, he must’ve noticed Aaron in your life at some point. But you had been so careful. 

Then the other obvious thing hit you. His team knew. You were wondering how the team had taken the news when you saw the black SUV come into view. Aaron quickly stopped the car in front of you and before you could move to open the passenger door yourself, he was out of his seat in a flash, coming over to where you were standing. 

For a moment you were both silent. You felt tiny under his unrelenting gaze, his eyes scanning your entire being as he ensured himself you were okay. 

Without thinking, you launched yourself at him, wrapping your arms tightly around his waist, ensnaring his arms tight to his side. As soon you realized what you did, you were internally kicking yourself, moving to loosen your arms nearly as fast as you had put them there.

“Aaron I-” 

Before you could finish your attempted apology, Aaron had pulled his arms from under yours and repositioned them around you, pulling you tightly against him. Your head naturally fit perfectly under his and you took in a deep breath, letting his scent surround you. It was cliche, but you both were thinking about how perfectly your bodies melded against each other.  

You felt his hand rest gently on the back of your head, gently stroking down your hair in a steady rhythm. “I got you.” He whispered, so quiet you nearly didn’t hear it. 

You pulled your head back so you could look up at him. “I’m scared.” You said, admitting it aloud for the first time.  

Aaron was staring hard down at you, his face soft. “I know,” he started, moving a piece of hair away from your face, “I’m not going to let anyone hurt you, okay?” 

You nodded at that, missing his warmth when he started to pull away from you. He kept a protective hand on your lower back, guiding you towards the passenger seat. He opened the door and helped you in, gently shutting the door behind you. As soon as your door was shut he wasted no time in getting in the driver's seat, starting the car up again. With a quick check to make sure your seatbelt clicked was in, Aaron peeled out of the parking lot. 

A few floors above the courtyard, in one of the private hotel rooms, a curtain was angrily thrown shut. 

-----

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no permission is given to copy or republish my writing on any other platform or account. if you see this story outside of my blog or my ao3 it is stolen work. i do not own nor claim to own criminal minds or any of the character involved in it.

[maybemanyskeletonhats]

KISS

Hello, this is for the people who leave the nice comments and tags (yes I look at the reblogs, they really help my morale.) UNEDITED.

Genre: Fluff galore. Seriously.

Edit. There was more to Teldryns scenario. But tumblr ate it or character limit maybe?

Edit 2. It's fixed. Apparently it ate the tags I put on too.

Sotha Sil bares the burden of cruel certainty. And he can say it's something he's used too but it does weigh heavily on him. This is different when it comes to the tantalizing affections of his lover. That being said this mortal turned god knows what he wants. He wants them. It's the rampant thoughts that plague him about how to ask them for it that make him pause. He usually saved the affections for when the doors were closed and he knew no one would intrude yet here of all places his chest thumped and his lips tingled with anticipation. Why wouldn't they want it? A crimson gaze fell on the vestige who sat idle, quiet. Their fingers loose and relaxed around the spear he had given them. He wouldn't tell them where it came from, or rather who it belonged too. But as far as he was concerned. They wielded it as if it was apart of themselves. He hears them say his name, soft, worried. He must have be staring at them. Gods, he doesn't regret any time he spends looking at them. He doesn't respond even as he gently taps the side of their jaw, guiding their face to look at his. After a moment of them staring at one another, the vestige silently nodded. Seht connected their mouths together sweetly. So maybe he can't voice his wants the way other people can, but he did ask for it...in his own way, right?

Almalexia tried to give herself the idea that she never got to the point of desperation. That there was never any time when she felt that she needed to kiss the life out of her vestige. That nothing in Tamriel could make her so happy or so worried that carnal need became her priority. It was when the vestige returned to her, their face filled with exhaustion even as they sat still in the wagon. They are finally home, she thought breathlessly. Gone for three whole months that stretched on like a thousand years to her. They were a hero, a mortal, they saved Tamriel whether she liked it or not. If there was anyone in this whole world that deserved her affections, was it not them? Her feet touched the warm stone beneath her. Her golden eyed gaze widening as they slowly looked up. Eyes making contact with hers. The exhaustion that was filled to the brim in their eyes disappeared, and their slumped position turned into one of high alert. They jumped out, ignoring the distressed cries of the others with them. Ayem began to feel her feet move, unconsciously picking up speed till she was breaking into a small jog. All other thought was gone at the thought of them. It was them. She missed them. She missed them so much. As soon as they collided together, hands fervently gathering each other up. "Can I kiss you?" She asked simply, fingers tracing their lips. The vestige doesn't even wait, slamming their lips onto hers. Rule like a queen, kiss like a queen.

Vivec knows he wants to kiss them. The days after they've come to call themselves lovers drift in and out of his mind frequently. He knows he'll soon not have the luxury of claiming godhood for much longer, not that he's complaining. At least, with whatever time he has left, he wouldn't see them go before him. But for now, let's love like mortals do. He mused quietly to himself. In his lap the Nerevarine gave him an odd look but shook it off. He often said strange things that they would never quite understand. "It's humorous that as you arrive, your immortality comes, and mine drifts away like stars in the morning light." He begins, eyelashes tickling his cheeks. "I suppose that it matters not anymore. Should the Sharmat have succeed, none of us would be here. It was the right decision." He confessed. He didn't feel as conflicted about it, he surmises that that's what bothers him so. Time changes all, something Sil would have jumped to remind him of. He meets their gaze, their nose brushing against his jaw. 'I still love you, god or not. If it means anything.' They murmured, pressing a small kiss to his jaw. It was then he felt completely mortal, not a god, not a beloved figure. But someone normal, someone who grew old like others and got married, had children. "It does." His right hand came down to rub patterns onto their arm. "Am I allowed to kiss you..?" He questioned lazily, arm tightening around their middle. The Nerevarine's smokey gaze locked with his, their face growing warm. 'Like I'd say no, right?' Vehk merely hums, the arm wrapped around their middle sliding up to cuff the back of their neck. The god turned mortal pressed his lips to theirs in a rare moment of unyielding affection.

Voryn Dagoth's heart slams against his ribcage every time they enter a room. He was sure if it got any more louder they'd be able to hear it. Never had he ever so desperately wanted someone to himself. Voryn finds himself wringing his hands as he looks at them, anxiously chewing the inside of his cheek. 'Is something wrong?' They asked, head tilting. Voryn gives a hesitant smile, eyes shining with nervousness. "Yes, yes of course. I'm fine. Just thinking about something so hard it's abit...troubling." They gave him a look of sympathy, comfortingly grabbing his arm. This only made the Chimer man fidget. "I want to kiss you. Very much so." He blurts, instantly regretting it. They arch a brow at him, and nod slowly. 'Then kiss me?' Is all he needs to hear as he presses his lips to theirs in heated desperation.

Neloth leans back against his desk, arms crossed. His lips pulled into a careful line. It's not as though they were doing anything to bother him, they were just sitting there. Yet...he scowled. He was courting them, so it wasn't as if the want for some romance was alien. Neloth knew he could be hotheaded. But he loved them. The elf cursed underneath his breath. Why was it so hard to kiss someone? The Nerevarine's stops their idle humming and rolls their neck to look at him. Amusement shining in their eyes. "Oh you are insufferable aren't you?" Neloth breathes. They knew. Of course they knew. He forgets that they tease just as much as he does. He lets out a noise of exasperation, standing straight. Neloth walks over to them, leaning over their chair, his hands braced on the arm rests. The nerevarine sits still as a statue, grin still visible with the red ting across their face growing. His hand comes up to knot itself in their nape, pressing a surprsingly slow but deliberate kiss upon them. When he pulls back his face feels a lot warmer from where he started. "N'chow, there. It's of my system now at least."

Divayth Fyr usually has his hands occupied with some experiments or research. But feeling up the Nerevarine wasn't that bad right? Hands running up and down their sides he almost felt a need to keep them caged against his desk. If they didn't like it, they would have done something or said something much earlier right? Divayth's slightly stubbly chin runs across their cheek till he can press a kiss to their forehead. "Could always have you...if I wanted too right?" He breathes, nose brushing across theirs in a rare display of affection. His much larger hands come up to separate the small hands that had latched into his shirt twenty or so minutes before. "Want you...want to kiss you. You make me feel things." He whispered helplessly against their skin. Divayth barely hears the quiet consent before he's giving them a slow, passionate kiss.

Mannimarco has rare moments where he feels... possessive. But in a soft, non threatening way. His nose tenderly brushes the crown of their hair, his fingers kneading into their waist. Grip firm and assuring. Maybe he was in a good mood, he mused to himself. Didn't particularly feel that strong, bordering on vicious need to separate them from every man they interacted with. "Don't want you talking to peasants." He huffs, tightening his hold. He hears them laugh and his face burns as he rolls his eyes. Perhaps he should just marry that at that point, make them the King/Queen they ought to be at this point. What was the chances he could make them see his way about things then?

Cold fingers run on their side, feeling the warm body pressed to his cower away from the sensation. He grins mockingly. "Will I have to beg you for affection? Or am I going to have to do it myself?" The Vestige merely grins, the twinkle in the eyes he grew to knew so well the last few months. He scoffs, though his lips threaten to rise upward into a smile. His fingers dance up to nest into their nape, his other coming to tilt their chin up. "Mine.." He says with an uncharacteristic softness in his voice. "Or at least, I'm hoping you are..." His eyes betray him showing the vulnerability inside, in a rare show of open love, Mannimarco presses a firm but gentle kiss onto his Vestige.

Teldryn Sero doesn't cuddle often. Not when they're awake of course. He doesn't like to appear clingy, he's already glued to their side as is. The only spellsword from around Solstheim behind the legendary Dragonborn of Tamriel. The only one of their kind. It's not as though he wasn't getting glory though..he thought, his fingers drifting down the flat of their back. The hammock they've been lying in swaying gently with the breeze. "Your thoughts are too loud." They murmur against his collarbone. Teldryn feels a laugh bubble in his chest. Sometimes, just sometimes they could be more observant. "I'm a spellsword, subtly is not in my arsenal." His lips quirk upward as he fondly rubs his chin across their hair. "Too bad..." They start, fingers tracing patterns on his ribs. "About time you've learned another skil other then making wise remarks." They finish as he feels them smile playfully against him. Teldryn snorts in amusement, eyes fluttering closed. "All apart of the package you bought..." He hears a small 'tch' in response. "Better have a receipt." They fireback, slapping his arm. "No refunds, Sera." This time he grins, angling his face down so he can bring them into a heated kiss.

~°~°~°~°~

Translations:

N'chow is essentially the dunmer way of saying 'Damn'

[softranswolves]

For It May Not Be My Time

Fandom: Teen Wolf

Rating: Teen

Ships: n/a

Characters: Derek Hale, Laura Hale, Lydia Martin, Stiles Stilinski, Deaton

Words: 1598

LAURA HALE APPRECIATION WEEK - DAY FOUR THEME: resurrection

When Lydia shows up at his door to tell him his name unlocked the last of the list, he doesn't react. He knows Braeden is watching him, gauging how he responds. He knows Lydia will slowly come down from her premonition and switch to fix-it mode. She came alone, not wanting him to feel subjected to the pack's stares, but he knows that Stiles knows, and the kid has never been great at keeping pertinent information quiet.

He insists that he's fine each time he's asked, Braeden deciding to let him stew in whatever he's feeling while Scott and Stiles try to get more out of him. The latter goes so far as to goad Derek, trying to taunt him into talking but that isn't something they've ever done and he doesn't plan on starting now. It's easy to push back when they ask, because he's being honest. He isn't looking forward to dying, but he's resigned to it, knowing he's made his mother proud, made his family proud. He's worked to right the wrongs Peter has done, making Hale a respectable name again. Maybe he'll get to be with them soon.

"She didn't show you the whole list, did she?" Stiles asks a few days later. The whole pack has been working overtime to protect their own and figure out who is behind the deadpool in the first place. Kira returned after staying in hospital with her mom, and Scott has taken some time away from everyone to be alone with her, leaving Stiles with nobody else to pester.

"Why does it matter, Stiles? I'm marked for death, I know that already." He's exasperated but tolerant, realizing he might actually end up missing the banter they have. His gaze doesn't leave the gun he's reassembling, a task Braeden gave him for when he needs something to fill the spare time.

"Because there's a name on it that might draw your attention, sour wolf." Stiles is serious, and while this has become the norm after his possession, it's still out of place.

"So? Who was it?" He can hear the uptick in Stiles' pulse, scents anxiety in the air, but maintains his focus. If he engages, Stiles may take it as invitation for another attempt at a heart-to-heart.

There's no response for a moment, just the sound of paper unfolding, before a crumpled sheet slides into Derek's line of sight. He looks up at Stiles, who crosses his arms and simply nods toward the paper to emphasize Derek should look at it. Obliging, he scans the sheet, landing on a name two-thirds down the list.

"That's not possible," he says, eyes stuck on the letters. He doesn't pay attention to the numbers, just that string of impossibility.

"Are you sure?" Stiles asks, voice tense but gentle.

"You saw her body, you know it's not possible."

"Also shouldn't be possible for Peter to be alive, what with his quasi-possession of Lydia a few months ago, yet here we are."

Silence blossoms between them, and Derek thanks the universe for Stiles letting him sit with the information.

"Could it be outdated? Maybe the list isn't live, maybe it was made years ago," Derek suggests. He looks up to Stiles, eyes wide in hopeful shock. The only response he gets is a shrug as Stiles considers and starts to pace, running a hand through his hair in contemplation.

"I mean, it could be. We still don't know anything about it besides where the money came from. Lydia says she can feel a tangible thread to Laura, but she never met her and couldn't say for sure what it means."

Derek nods, standing to look out the window in thought.

"Have you talked to Deaton? Maybe he knows something, being human like you."

"We were kind of waiting to see what you wanted us to do," Stiles says. "She was your sister, after all, and there's no way we're bringing it to Peter without you. Y'know, her literal murderer?" He's pushing at Derek's buttons again, but this time he doesn't mind quite as much. He just nods again before turning back to Stiles.

"We can take the Camaro," Derek says, walking toward the door after grabbing a jacket and his keys."Though we should stop to pick up Lydia."

"Why Lydia?" Stiles asks as he follows after Derek.

"She can explain to Deaton what feelings she's having about Laura. He may be able to interpret them better than you or I could."

"Makes sense." Stiles is quiet after that, not saying anything for so long that Derek thinks it may be the longest he's gone without talking.

While he may have preferred this conversation to happen between the veterinarian and himself privately, he knew Lydia and Stiles would be useful at asking questions he may not consider and keep Derek from going too far off the deep end. The last time he'd been in a room with him alone was the night he kidnapped Deaton, thinking him to be the Alpha at the time. Things may have changed but he still kept his distance.

The boys drive to the Martin house, texting Lydia to join them, and continue the last few minutes to the Vet Clinic. Lydia was unsurprised when she sat down in the car, but seems uneasy around Derek, as though his impending death prediction is making her uncomfortable. He doesn't let himself dwell on it, instead focusing on clearing up his confusion.

"To what do I owe this pleasure?" Deaton asks when the trio arrives, motioning to the chairs in the back to sit in. Lydia takes a seat while Stiles continues the pacing he had started at the loft, and Derek simply hands Deaton the list of names.

"See anyone on there that shouldn't be? Any impossible names jumping out?" His voice is raised despite his efforts, and he clenches his fists to ground himself.

"I do," Deaton starts, his usual tone of knowing more than the rest of the room. "What do you think?" He directs the question at Lydia.

"I think... it's not an accident that her name is there," Lydia tries. "These lists, they don't feel arbitrary, as if everyone supernatural in Beacon Hills was added. Cora isn't on there, and as far as we know she's alive." She doesn't seem to want to meet Derek's eye, but he can understand it.

"So you think she's alive." It's a statement, not a question, but Derek' bluntness cuts through the room.

"I didn't say that," Lydia says quietly. "She doesn't feel dead, but she also doesn't feel alive either. It's not the same as when you were taken by Kate, but it's similar." She stands and puts her hand on top of Derek's, a similar motion to a few weeks ago when he'd been lying on the same table they're gathered around now, only a teenaged version of himself.

"So where does that leave us?" Stiles asks. He notes the way Derek has gone tense, and decides to push once more. "Derek, what's wrong? Isn't it a good thing if your sister is still with us?"

He's leaning over the table, arms holding his weight up at the edge, and he shakes his head, smiling to himself a little.

"I was so ready to die," he breathes out. "I'm just so... tired, and when Lydia told me my name was a key for the deadpool? I was relieved. I could stop fighting, stop pretending I know what the hell I'm doing, and be with her again."

Lydia reaches her arm up to rub circles against his back, feeling his sigh beneath her hand.

"The others, I miss them everyday. But for years it was just me and Laura against the world. I don't know what I'm supposed to do if she's alive somehow."

"You keep fighting," a voice chimes in, and it's familiar, too familiar. Derek spins around to see his older sister standing there, a sad smile on her face as she plays with the pendant hanging from her neck.

"Laura? Wha- how?" Derek is frozen in place, mouth hanging open as he stumbles over his words trying to speak properly.

"I'm sorry, Derek, I'm so sorry." She rushes forward to pull him into a hug before taking a step back, holding him at arm's length. "You've grown in just these past few months, Der. Look at you." She has tears in her eyes and laughs a little.

Derek still hasn't spoken, but Laura doesn't seem to mind.

"I haven't been back too long, I promise. I just needed to get my bearing before I came back into your life, especially considering how mine ended."

"How did you come back?" Stiles cuts in, curiosity getting the better of him. Laura turns to look at him but someone else answers first.

"Peter," Lydia says. "It happened when I brought back Peter, didn't it?" Her voice is small, shaking slightly as she recalls those traumatic months, only part of which she actually remembers.

"You're the smart one, aren't you?" Laura answers. "I still don't really know how, and Deaton hasn't been able to fully explain it either. But yes, when you resurrected him, it ended up like a package deal. Whether it was some karmic twist of fate or just Hale blood keeping us bound together, I'm back. And apparently being hunted despite only the people in this room knowing I'm alive." She scoffs at this last bit, turning her attention back to Derek.

"I'm back, baby brother. What do you say we figure this out together?"