#[ft drabbles]

[sttoru]

dad toji x reader grocery shopping with baby megumi

ෆ tags. dad!toji x female reader. fluff. you’re gumi’s mother.

“look at your mama, kid.” toji grins as he lazily pushes your shopping cart forwards. you were walking a few steps ahead to grab some necessities, leaving the father-son duo behind, “she’s so damn beautiful, ain’t she?”

megumi was seated in the baby-seat, babbling and cooing just by hearing the familiar word ‘mama’ spill from toji’s lips. the simple mention of you gets your little son feeling all giddy on the inside, even if his limited vocabulary doesn’t allow him to fully grasp what his dad was saying.

at one point, you seem to have wandered a bit too far ahead. toji and megumi were three aisles behind you, which you didn’t even notice because you were too busy going through your grocery list.

“oh, no, what’re we gonna do?” toji playfully puts on a worried expression as he pokes his son’s chubby cheek, “we lost mama.” and as if on cue, megumi’s smile turns upside down. he couldn’t understand what his father was saying, though seeing that (fake) worried expression on his parent’s face was enough to make him burst out crying.

“hey, hey,” toji immediately tries to calm megumi down by ruffling his hair gently, “i was just jokin’, but eh— guess you don’t even know what that means, do ya?”

you immediately rush back to see what occured once you heard the familiar cries of your child and see your husband trying to soothe megumi. toji was now holding onto the baby, one hand on the back of megumi’s tiny head while the other was slowly patting his lower back in a soothing manner.

“what happened, love?” you ask worriedly as you walk over to the two. megumi seemed to have calmed down in his father’s embrace after a few moments. in fact, your son had completely forgotten his sadness the second you were visible to him again.

toji shrugs and scratches his cheek, “i was just jokin’ with the kiddo, but i guess he doesn’t like his daddy’s humor.”

you sigh and hold yourself back from giving toji an earful in the midst of the store once you realised what probably happened.

if the man’s not teasing you, he’s teasing his child. you don’t know how many times you’ve scolded your husband for making megumi cry on accident due to his jokes. it’s quite literally impossible to get him to understand that megumi is too young to pick up on social cues. it’s either that or toji simply acts like he doesn’t understand.

it was most likely the latter since you know that toji always loves getting reactions out of the people he teases;

“toji—” “yeah, yeah, i know. i won’t do it again, babe.”

oh, he most definitely will.

[ackermonie]

in a perfect world, you and satoru would get married. you would move into a bigger house, big enough for megumi and tsumiki and yuji and nobara and all the kids you wish you could just hide from the cruelty of this world. you would even have children of your own, away from the gojo clan and their obsession of who is going to inherit the six eyes next.

you always dreamt of a big kitchen with lots of natural sunlight. somewhere far, far away, somewhere you can properly take care of satoru in the way he deserves.

sometimes if your mind drifts far enough, you could almost taste how that feels. you could almost feel the sun on your skin, hear the voices of innocent laughter and running feet echo through the warmth of your home…

but this isn't a perfect world.

in this world, you just happen to be staring at the face-down pregnancy test on the counter. you are bent over on the sink, elbows planted on the counter, and you let your chin hit your chest. breathing is an impossible task.

it’s cold, dull as the worst of knives.

october 31st. you were supposed to be getting ready for the impromptu Halloween party everyone just decided to throw. but once again, since this is far, far away from the world you wish you lived in, you're right here, in one of jujutsu tech's bathrooms with a ticking time bomb within a hand's reach.

"it's probably nothing," shoko puffs out the smoke in her lungs one last time before stomping on her cigarette. "you said you always use protection. I don't think either of you would joke around about something like this."

"my period is four fucking weeks late." you mutter out, yanking on your hair in frustration. "a whole month. this never happened before."

you've been trying to ignore it for weeks, convincing yourself it's just the stress of everything that's going on; it happened before. a couple of weeks and you'd wake up to your uterus being angry at you again, but your breasts grow sorer. you grow cranky and angry and emotional, but you discarded this as another symptom of stress.

four weeks is a little too long.

shoko is quite worried herself, but she can't join your little panic attack. she's the only one you decided to trust with this, and as nonchalant as she usually is, seeing you in such a situation stirred something inside her.

even more so when she has just received a text that summons all hands on deck in shibuya. a text she's sure you're yet to see. a text she shouldn't be showing you until this situation is handled first.

"let's just see it," she steps forwards, a hand on your back for comfort. "whatever the result is."

"i can't have a fucking baby right now."

shoko's hand raises to your nape, giving you a comforting squeeze. she bends down to your level. you look at her.

"we can always get rid of it."

something twists in your chest at the thought, but it seems that this could be the only possible solution for such a situation. you can even do it without telling satoru, since he's been quite busy recently. this would only burden him even more.

"yeah," you nod, looking back down at the sink again. the thought is still running in your brain as you straighten up. you run a hand down your face, shaking your head as if to shake away the anxiety, and you finally reach for the test.

shoko watches as you pause. your chest heaves as you attempt to take deeper breaths, and before she can blink one more time, the test is in your hands.

the bathroom door opens, grabbing only shoko's attention.

"apologies, ladies," nanami's deep voice seems to echo in the breathless bathroom. "we need to go." he takes a step in hesitantly, gaze switching from shoko to your stiff frame. "something is happening in shibuya."

his words fail to be registered by your brain for a while. it takes you all your might to keep standing.

"fuck," you let out breathily.

shoko reaches for the stick in your hand, her stomach twisting at the little + sign on display.

she sighs. "fuck."

"what the hell is going on?" nanami advances towards you two, unable to locate the source of stress in the bathroom until shoko turns around, test in hand.

he stops in his tracks.

"i'm pregnant."

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

more?

[ft-3racha]

something along the lines of felix being jealous of hyunjin x reader and ends up going behind hyunjin’s back basically telling the reader that the secret is safe between them ;)

warnings: allusions of cheating (i don‘t condone this behavior and i don‘t think any of them would ever do this), fem anatomy reader (but no pronouns mentioned), rough sex (consensual), marking, dirty talk, jealousy, squirting, creampie (you better use protection istg-), a little angsty at the end

___________

„shhh baby, you gotta keep real quiet for me okay?“, felix rasped in your ear, smooth talking while he pounded you relentlessly. your eyes rolled to the back of your head, so caught up in the moment that a tiny moan found it‘s way past your lips. „baby, please, fuck-“ the way you wrapped around him so nicely made felix dizzy, your warmth engulfed him im the best way possible. „it‘s so hard, please felix“, you whispered, so fucked out to the point you didn‘t care if anyone heard. if he heard. without a second thought, felix pressed his hand to your mouth before picking up the pace, your eyes widened while they rolled back into your skull simultaneously. the head of his cock hit that perfect spot inside of you, and you could swear you saw the entirety of this universe flash before your eyes. „it‘s gonna be our little secret, okay?“, felix mumbled more to himself than anything else, but you heard him just right.

out of nowhere, your phone rang, and out of the corner of your eye you could see who it was; a picture of you and hyunjin, your boyfriend, flashed across the bright screen. as soon as it happened, it was as if something in felix switched. he flipped you over onto your stomach and immediately entered you again, one hair gripping your hair while the other one covered your mouth again. „tell me, sweetheart“, he said, now more sternly than before, „does he fuck you like that, huh? does he make you feel the way i do?“ you tried to answer, but babbled incoherent nonsense against his palm, a bit of drool leaking from the corner of your mouth. „c‘mon“, he tried again, „answer.“ as soon as his hand left your mouth his thrusts became borderline brutal, each one hitting that one spot more and more and more. it was perfect. so perfect that your face found it‘s way into the pillow, the thick fabric catching every little bit of the involuntary, almost pornographic moan that left you in that very second. his big hands grabbed your hips so hard it would probably bruise, leaving marks in the process. little marks hyunjin wouldn‘t notice, but felix would know of their existence. the only marks he was allowed to leave. „answer.“ the familiar feeling of an approaching orgasm spread throughout your abdomen, and you could tell he was close as well by the way his thrusts got a little arithmetic. „fuck, you‘re squeezing me so good, baby. can tell you‘re close.“ screw him for being able to actually read your body. as if he knew your thoughts, his hand sneaked it‘s way around your body and found your clit. felix started his abuse on your most sensitive bundle of nerves immediately, the pads of his fingers rubbing small circles just the way you liked it.

„answer me right now or i‘ll stop.“ „no!“, you almost screamed, which earned you a slap to your ass. „he doesn‘t! you‘re the only one that fucks me this good, lix. please, wanna cum so bad.“ you begged, tears escaped your eyes from all the pleasure felix was providing you with. „let go then, make a mess for me like i know you can“, he finally allowed, and that was all it took for you to experience what was one of the most intense orgasms of your entire life: your whole body shook, clear spurts of cum streamed out of you like a river down your legs and on the bed, some of it hitting felix‘ legs in the process. this was all it took for him to finish as well, his cum flooded your insides as you milked him for all he had to offer.

it took a few minutes before you were able to think again. felix, who was laying next to you by now, got up as soon as he was sure you were back where you were supposed to be , and made sure to grab a towel and something to drink. as soon as he returned to the room you were on your phone. „everything alright?“, he asked as he handed you the bottle, plopping back down next to you. his hand found your thigh, long fingers drawing tiny circles on your soft skin. „yeah, i‘m good lix. was just checking because he called, but we texted a minute ago. gotta head out soon.“

as you snuggled up on him he inhaled your scent, making sure to engrave the moment in his brain, because this is the closest he‘d ever be to the intimacy of a relationship with you. he had one rule: no matter how many times this would happen, he could never get in between you and hyunjin. he would always come first, and felix knew that. it just hurt a little less when your head was on his chest.

it just had to stay your little secret.

[liliththeimp]

Squabbling

(Medic! Reader, GN, SFW)

Sooo idk if anyone is as fucked up as i am or on tt lately but ive been getting like a beauty and the beast audio with ghost cosplayers ……So this is me writing that rq :D

(i am responsible for my own fyp guys, guilty as charged)

CW: harsh British man swearing n soft stupid hidden feelings :D (also not proof read guys)

“Tha’ hurts.” Simon growled cruelly, yanking his arm away involuntarily to glower at you, making you even more frustrated at his attitude.

“Well if you’d hold still, it wouldn’t hurt as much,” you said as you gave him a moue, palm facing upwards toward him to ask for his wound back, to which he defiantly glared at you.

“Well if you hann’t been so reckless, this wouldn’t ‘ve happened.” He countered through his teeth, leaning in just a little to where you could see a crease in his eye from the angry look he had underneath his mask.

“If you hadn’t frightened me, I wouldn’t have run away.” you jeered back with a tilt of your chin upwards, wanting to properly meet his eyes as you bickered childishly with him.

Ghost paused, his gaze stuttering across your features, the pure kindness and care you had for him in this moment outshined the attitude you returned, seeing how it softened around the corners of your mouth, a mouth he might like to kiss one of these days.

His words stoped in his throat. Ghost knew you weren’t trying to argue, but that didnt mean he wasn’t still mad you were right.

“Well…you shouldn’t ‘ave been over there in tha’ first place.” He faltered, his pride getting the better of him and continued to squabble for his innocence, almost in fear you’d connect the dots for his own recklessness as protectiveness deriving from a place of love.

“Well you should learn to control your temper.” You added softly, your fingers eventually curling back around his bicep to prop his wounded forearm over the table, which he hesitantly relaxed under your touch, however much the wound might have hunted him.

“Now hold still, this might sting a little,” you muttered cautiously, taking an alcohol-damp cloth to clean his dirt infested wound, earning a hiss of pain through Simon’s lips

“Son of a cunt, could ya be more gen’le?” He muttered through another pained gravelly sigh, to which you gave him an anpologetic glance, then allowing the air of awkward tension to settle back between you two.

“By the way…” you started up again after a few seconds of silence, keeping your eyes focused on his wound and preparing to wrap it up snuggly before the exfil comes.

“Thank you. For saving my life.” You confessed, peeling your eyes from your work to look up through your lashes, seeing his gaze was locked onto you the entire time.

Begrudgingly he absorbed your gratitude, his eyes fluttered for only a moment out of embarrassment, glancing away and grumbling under his breath softly.

“You’re welcome.”

[s1mpactafterhours]

ok so i did a variation of this over on the sfw genshin main BUT i also wanted to make a filthy version too bc like my brain's been wandering- but anyway.. hear me out 🗣👏🏻

al-haitham coming home and barging into his housemate's room to tell him something or ask about something (etc etc) and accidentally walking in on kaveh absolutely plowing you, like you're both going at it hard until you suddenly hear the door open. (kaveh had assured you he wasn't supposed to be home until much, much later!) and so you're just desperately trying to cover up or hide or something, anything- but kaveh's noticed the way al-haitham looks at you, even if the man himself has no idea yet, so he just keeps going at it, witness be damned. al-haitham makes some offhand remark about how neither of you have any decency, but if he weren't wearing those damned headphone looking contraptions you'd be able to see just how red his ears were.

this is unfortunately how he begins to come to terms with his attraction to you, and unknowingly begins his learnings of the ways of heartache. kaveh pays this no mind, feeling that he's finally got the upper hand on his smart ass, seemingly unshakeable housemate. he's on a mission to make you scream his name, as many times as possible, as loud as possible. at some point, though neither of you hear it, al-haitham just ends up slamming the door on his way out, leaving to go to the library or literally anywhere else.... but not before guiltily rubbing one out. you two provided the perfect background noises he never knew he needed, but more importantly, it was your moans that were driving him insane. how would you sound screaming out his name all night long instead?

so off he goes to busy himself with work, so much work, so much that he ends up taking on extra work just to distract himself from the honeymoon phase you're both in, and the way kaveh just can't seem to stop showing you off in front of him. he can already tell the latter is doing so on purpose, but he refuses to let the blonde get the better of him. you're aware that something is going on, but attribute it to their weird relationship and how they're just always fighting.. though it has been awfully quiet lately, and you're starting to get suspicious. kaveh is quick to assure you that al-haitham is just very busy with work, and he's even quicker to get handsy with you. cuddles while he works on his projects, hands on across your shoulders or thighs at dinner, all the nights you two fuck your stress out before collapsing together in bed.. you're far too entranced by your seemingly sickly sweet lover to see through the haze, but it's always harder to think straight when you're getting your back blown out (or blowing him out-) ..and so, you don't.

and even as al-haitham has time to get himself back together, he can't help but wonder if maybe things would have turned out differently had he been more aware of his own feelings. if he had asked you out first, would that be how the both of you would be now? or had you always only had eyes for kaveh? the questions that used to keep him up at night become mindless chatter as he tries (and fails) to block you both out on the other side of unfortunately thin walls. but life goes on, and so does your relationship, and before you all know it, you're making plans to move in together, to share your lives together, and suddenly al-haitham finally knows what loneliness feels like.. all alone in a house that used to house shenanigans for three. he's not sure if he'll bother looking for a new roommate now that he's been promoted, but sometimes he can't help but wish he could share the news with you both, and how he misses your antics and smile and.... he belatedly begins to realize he misses kaveh too. in which a new set of questions unlocks thoughts he'd never even considered... had he harbored feelings for you all this time, or was he instead projecting because he was jealous... and falling in love with his own roommate all this time?

[natsudragneelswh0re]

pretty gf 🤝 protective bf

[starlightingsss]

right where you left me

a laxus x reader drabble ig?? js me yapping 😞

HES SAUR FINE THOOUUUUUU

as they - she, kagura, milliana, risley and arana - exited the endless corridors of the labyrinth that was the preliminary for the grand magic games, they were met with a roaring audience. they finished sixth, out of 8, which wasn't too bad considering their competition.

the other 2 guilds already announced were fairy tail and quatro ceberus.

fairy tail hadn't participated in these games in a while, after their humiliating defeats. but this year - they might actually have a chance at victory. she knew too much about the guild, especially with her history, and she knew the tenrou team had returned and would be participating in the games. she didn't know many of the people on the team closely, but she heard of their names and saw some pictures from him.

he disappeared with the rest of them 7 years ago. not a word, and not a trace. she still remembered the day of his departure, how he took off from the tent and how she chased him in his lightning form, how she couldn't get there in time to help them fight but still watched as acnologia blew them to shreds. what she thought was the last seconds of his life.

but there they were, the friends he told her about, competing in a fight to be the best guild. she knew she should've been happy when she first saw their guild making a comeback, but she couldn't help the feeling of fear that swept across her heart. his friends were there, but where was he?

its been 3 months since their return, and she hasn't heard a word from him. she saw the members of his team cheering in the crowd with the rest of their guild, but the man she loved was nowhere to be found.

"what's on your mind?" kagura said, leaning over to the woman. they weren't close but kagura had seemed to take some kind of interest to her, occasionally checking up on her, asking her questions about her past.

"it's.. nothing." i replied, short vague responses was usually all kagura got out of me. but, if im being honest, what else could i give? i shouldn't be in these games right now, i'm in no condition to fight. maybe a few years ago, when i was strong, but now? my body is brittle and malnourished, my eyes are dead and i haven't smiled in years. my alcoholism has aged me an unreasonable amount, and i am just a shell of my former self. my magic power has depleted beyond what seems fixable, and i feel like im slipping away faster as each agonizing day passes. hauntingly beautiful, a ghost even.

it seems i have zoned out through three of the introductions as they are now announcing the second place.

as the crowd roared in excitement, the second place team came out - fairy tail team b. it felt as if the whole world was spinning, as if nothing existed in that moment except for me - and him.

he stood there, next to the pretty white haired girl - mirajane - unscathed and just how he looked 7 years ago. perfect. i felt as a smile bloomed onto my face, tears prickling my eyes. i couldn't hear the deafening roars of the crowd as sabertooth was announced, as my heartbeat seemed to drown them all out. i wanted to run, to run across the stadium into his arms, i wanted to cry about how i missed him, ask where he'd been, i wanted to throw myself into his arms and never leave. but i couldn't, i seemed glued to the spot i was standing, with my eyes glued to him, maybe he didn't recognize me. maybe he chose not to look, but still, he was alive.

a spark seemed to have been relit in me, that fiery spirit and my will to live. my gaze never seemed to leave him, as his eyes finally met mine. i saw how they widened a little in shock as he realized it was me, how his lips curled into a rare smile - not a smirk, but a smile. a geniune smile.

how it ended as quickly as it started, as the teams were dismissed and let to leave, how his guild pulled him away as i couldn't help but smile like a lovestruck fool.

and thats exactly what i was. lovestruck. i loved him and i would forever, the anguish and worry from the past 7 years seeming to lift off my heart. my beloved would be mine again soon, my perfect.

that night, i drank. shamelessly and without a fear, i hadn't touched a drop of alcohol for months, because what if i lost myself to it again? what if i started and couldn't stop? but it was different this time. i drank, not to forget but to celebrate, i drank because i loved him and i refuse to love in fear. i drank because i had a reason to live again, and i drank in celebration, instead of out of habit or to avoid my pain. i was an alcoholic but in those moment, i wasn't. in those moments, i was a 19 year old girl again. a 19 year old girl traveling fiore with the man of my dreams, a girl without a reason to cry. someone so endlessly happy and content.

a euphoric smile lit my features as i stumbled out of our bar, determined to find the one fairy tail was occupying - and after a few block, i settled at the rowdiest bar amongst the 20 i had seen, one with men flying around in barrels.

i entered the building, unnoticed, as i scanned the group for his face.

and there he was, in all his glory - sitting at a table surrounded by his friends.

i stumbled over, tripping over my feet a little, before finally getting to him, slumping myself over him, and wrapping my arm around his neck.

he was clearly less drunk than i was, as he tugged me into his lap, before wrapping me in a tight embrace.

"almost thought you were mad at me for a sec.." he whispered into her ear, as tears filled her eyes. she missed him so so much.

"could never be mad at you.." she replied, as her tears fell and her smile grew.

she heard him murmur an "i'm sorry" as his team seemed to stare in shock a little, his grip on her didnt loosen as he held her to his torso, maybe pulling her away a few times to look at her face and plant a kiss on her cheek.

[yuzurins]

# bus rides with you — 10:56 pm

you’re just friends :) word vomit !

you usually don’t stay out this late. your parents are always busy, and the thought of taking public transposition home late at night feels so tedious and also dangerous. it’s hard to not let your anxious thoughts get the better of you when the world is pitch black outside.

well, that is, only if you were alone.

you can’t remember if you had mentioned this fact to reo or not, but even though the boy could get a drive whenever and wherever he wanted, he chose to take the slow, plain old bus with you anyways.

the two of you had been out with your classmates the entire day working on a project. it wasn’t supposed to last this long, but due to certain unexpected interruptions (bachira’s sudden urge to go to an arcade… and isagi constantly insisting that you guys stay for dinner together….), your day has yet to end as you stay stuck on the road for an estimated amount of another 47 minutes.

“are you tired?” reo queries, glancing over at you as he rests his bag on his lap.

he must have noticed how your head’s been bobbing up and down for as long as you’ve been seated. despite it being obvious enough, you still shook your head in denial, refusing to sleep on the stiff seat because you knew you were going to wake up with neck pain.

he’s aware that you’re capable of taking care of yourself, but still, he can’t help but worry. “are you sure? it’s been a long day after all. i think we met up around… 10 hours ago? i don’t blame you for wanting to sleep. i promise to wake you up when it gets to our stop!”

you laugh at his consideration and the way his eyes visibly carry concern. “thank you reo, but i think i’ll leave it for later so i won’t wake up with a broken neck.”

his mouth makes an “O” shape as he acknowledges your reason, and he looks away with a faint red tinting his cheeks.

the back of the bus is empty, the dark outside making the window across show a reflection of reo and you sitting side by side instead of the usual scenery. the light flickers dimly, the sound of the bus engine being the only thing filling the empty atmosphere. you aren’t sure if it’s air conditioning making you shiver, or if it’s because of the feeling of being the only ones in the world.

you stare into your reflection. reo’s looking down, hugging his bag. there’s silence, except it isn’t awkward.

it’s weird, you think, because under any other circumstance, you would be dying to get home immediately. thinking about it realistically, you had just spent your entire day outside, probably lost enough brain cells working on that project together, the rest of them went into playing along with your friends who had way too much energy. anyone would want to get home as soon as possible, but for some odd reason, you want to bask in this mundane scenario for a little longer than 47 minutes.

your social battery is drained, you lack the energy to talk, yet you still feel comfortable just sitting here staring at nothing with reo.

quite strange, isn’t it?

a few minutes pass by as you’re both lost in thought. reo’s attention is focused on you again as you rummage through your bag for something.

you pull out your earbuds and offer the left side to him. “want to listen to music together?”

he takes the earbud and smiles. “yeah. i’d love to.”

you smile back at him, and the sound of the bus engine is overwritten with songs from your favourite playlist. it’s cute how he turns over excitedly with wide eyes asking you for the name of the song that’s playing and how he’s intently listening to each one as well, like he’s studying your music taste.

before you know it, you’re drifting off again despite the fun little musical exchange with reo. regardless of how your mind feels wide awake, ready to savour more of the moment, your body struggles to keep up, an inevitable outcome due to the hectic day you had.

a quiet laugh comes out of the boy next to you, and he tilts his head at you when you shift your gaze over to look at him.

“so much for ‘leaving it for later’, hmm?” he asks.

you hum in agreement, too tired to think of a witty response.

reo taps his shoulder and leans closer to you, signalling for you to rest your head against him. “just sleep, i’ll wake you up and walk you home when it’s time.”

his voice is no louder than a whisper; a saccharine lullaby coaxing you to sleep. it’s tempting, and despite you refusing the first time, you take him up on his offer almost immediately.

he’s warm, his body akin to that of a blanket as you loll in his company.

you wonder if the swelling warmth in your heart is because of him too.

BONUS:

taglist: @kitorin

[enjoythesilentworld]

Wille's Month - Engagement

how is it already/only day 8?? ily @youngroyals-events <3

enjoy some tooth-rotting fluff

Wille asks Simon to marry him. Simon says no. rating: T (cw implied sexual content but very minor)

read below the cut or on ao3 ! xx

He’d had the ring for a while now. Of course he had. Simon was pretty sure that — had he not been a little distracted by the whole sex scandal and the monarchy and the shitstorm of other problems that came with that — he would’ve known that Wille was it for him right when they’d met. The boy was such a dork that, despite his position, Simon found himself immediately interested. If you looked past the centuries of privilege and unfairly accumulated wealth, he was rather cute. 

While the first year had been absolutely the worst ever in a kind of ridiculous way, they made it. Things had only gotten better for them after Wille stepped down and they finally got to be together. Just them. No monarchy, no royal court, no crown. Just Wille and Simon. 

The years slid by in unimaginable bliss. They fit so well together. Every touch was just as burning as the last, every look just as charged with love and lust. Everything between them fell into place. Most of the time. Wille was a bit of a drama queen, after all, and Simon was, even he could admit, a little hard headed. They’d fight over little things, but usually ended up falling into bed together later that night. Sometimes they’d fight about big things; things they couldn’t ignore. They’d scream at each other and then they’d go to bed quiet, untouching. Sometimes, one of them would break, reaching out in the middle of the night and wrapping a hand around the other, just to know they were still there. Other times, they’d wake up in the morning still on opposite sides of the bed. Then they’d sit down together and try to stumble through whatever murky problem had arisen. They got better at it over time. 

By the time they were both 25, done with school and settled into their little apartment, they barely fought over real stuff anymore. Well, they fought all the time, but it was Wille complaining that Simon was still up with the lamp on past midnight. Or it was Simon griping at Wille for forgetting to move the towels to the dryer. The fights over little, silly things were some of Simon’s favorite parts about them, and he knew Wille liked it, too. The problems were so normal. He and Wille were having normal couple arguments. Most of the time, they didn’t even mention the monarchy or the royal court or any of it anymore. That was the best part. 

Simon knew that he wanted this forever and he planned to romance the hell out of his boyfriend before asking the question. He’d been in cahoots with Felice and Sara for months, planning and making sure everything would be perfect. It wasn’t going to be anything big, and it would be private — they’d had enough of their relationship put on display for the public eye — but it had to be perfect. He’d dedicated so much time to this because Wille deserved it. After everything, Wile deserved the fucking world. Simon couldn’t actually give him the world, but he would make sure he got damn close. 

Apparently, Wille had other ideas. Simon’s plans were still a week out, but one morning he woke to Wille staring at him with teary eyes. 

“Baby?” he mumbled, scrambling to shake the sleep from his brain. “What’s wrong? Did something happen?”

Wille shook his head and gave a watery smile. “No, I’m okay. I just love you so much.” 

Breathing out in relief, Simon flopped back onto the pillows. “Jesus, Wille, you scared me.” 

“I’m sorry.”

He did actually sound a little sorry, so Simon scooted closer and wrapped his arms around Wille’s bare torso, pulling him close. “That’s okay. Warm me up and maybe I’ll forgive you.” 

Always happy to oblige, Wille did just that, wrapping strong arms around him and pulling Simon half on top of him. He buried his face in Simon’s curls and sighed happily. 

“You’re my favorite person.” 

Simon hummed back and pressed a soft kiss to Wille’s collarbone.

“Marry me.” 

Simon yanked back abruptly. “What?”

Wille grinned. “Marry me.” 

“You’re not serious,” Simon breathed.

“I am.” He reached out and cupped Simon’s face gently. “Simon, you’re it for me.”

Simon stared at him.  

“No.”

“No?” 

“No!” He pulled away and climbed out of the bed, leaving Wille to watch him go, a terribly confused look on his face. 

While he thought he’d gotten away with it when Wille didn’t mention it again, he was wrong. Three days later, Simon arrived home from work and walked into their living room to find Wille seated on the couch, surrounded by rose petals and candles. 

“What the fuck?” 

“Hi love,” Wille grinned and patted the couch next to him. “Come sit. I made us dinner.” 

Simon tentatively walked over and sat down. This was suspiciously romantic. His eyes roved over the beautiful plates of food — Simon’s favorite pasta dish which Wille had invented —, the dim lights, the sappy, nervous look on Wille’s face. 

“What is this?” he asked skeptically, fixing a hard stare on Wille. 

“Well,” he looked down sheepishly, then his hand started moving toward the pocket on his pants. “I thought, after the other day, maybe you were a little upset that I hadn't planned a bigger thing. Which is fair. I should have, because you deserve that, so–” 

Simon stood up quickly, nearly kicking the coffee table in the process. “Don’t you dare,” he warned, holding out a finger. 

“Simon–” 

“No!” He cut him off, again, and stomped out of the room. 

And, okay, maybe he could’ve handled it a bit better. But he wasn’t about to let his months of planning go down the drain just because Wille beat him to the punch! The poor man did seem a little sulky, even after Simon woke him up by sliding down under the sheets on a sunny Friday morning. 

“Come on, slow poke,” Simon whined, dragging Wille out of bed. “I have a surprise for you.” 

The surprise was one of many, in fact. Simon, the genius he was, had created a scavenger hunt for Wille around town. Each little clue was a song lyric which hinted at some place that was meaningful to them. 

Throughout the day, Wille’s mood improved exponentially as they traveled from place to place. The park where they shared their first date after moving to town, the coffee shop they visited every Sunday, the alleyway in which Wille had asked Simon to move in with him. Along the way, they laughed and reminisced and it was absolutely perfect. 

The last clue led them to the roof of their own apartment complex. Simon hadn’t requested anything crazy, but Felice and Sara had out done themselves. Piles of pillows laid atop a plush blanket and little string lights twinkled in the setting sun. There was an ice box of champagne and a bowl of strawberries, and it all looked a bit like something off the Bachelor. 

“Fuck,” Simon laughed.

“You didn’t do this?”

“Well, not really. I just told Sara and Felice to make it cozy up here. They… sure did.” 

Wille smiled brightly, eyes shining, and pulled Simon over to their little set-up. “It’s wonderful.”

They settled onto the pillows, curling up together and watching the sun disappear below the horizon. Simon, after all this, found himself getting nervous. He’d been planning all of this for months, meticulously picking lyrics and selecting the spots that meant the most to them. How had he forgotten to think of what he would say? 

“Today was perfect, Simon,” Wille whispered into his neck. “Thank you. I love you.” 

To calm his nerves, he took a deep breath and sat up. 

“Wille,” he started slowly. “Nothing in this world makes me as happy as you do. Getting to wake up next to you every day feels like a dream. After everything…to know we still made it– I’m just so proud of you. I’m so proud of us. I love you. So much. And I just–”

“Yes.” 

Simon froze, mouth half open. 

“Sorry,” Wille said. He didn’t look very sorry. “You can keep going. But the answer is yes.” 

Shaking his head, Simon laughed. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the little black box. “Will you marry m– oof!”

Wille jumped on him, tackling him and pinning him to the pillows. His mouth somehow found Simon’s on the way down. Simon grinned into the kiss, dropping the box in favor of putting his hands on his fiancé. 

“Is anyone coming up here?” Wille breathed into his neck, already urgently nipping at the skin there. 

“No,” Simon gasped, slipping his hands under Wille’s shirt. “Felice and Sara are guarding the stairs.”

Wille grinned, already reaching for Simon’s pants. “Perfect.”

Sometime later, Wille giggled into the darkness. 

“You rejected me. Twice.”

Simon shrugged.

“This is why you kept saying ‘no’?”

“Duh,” Simon said. “I’ve wanted to marry you since we were 16, dumbass.”

[leopardmask-ao3]

Day 6 - Jevin

Drabble for @hermitadaymay.

Skizz stared hard at Jevin, watching the blobs that made up his face wobble as Jevin talked and paced.

“...-Skizz? Hello?”

Skizz blinked and shook his head. “Huh? Uhhh. Yeah. Look, I'm sorry, dude, I got really distracted by your beautiful face, especially when I noticed your mouth doesn't move when you talk.”

Jevin chuckled. “That's fair. Also, I don't even have a mouth.”

“Then what-”

The three dark spots shuffled around like a puzzle, settling into a new, identical position. “They're all eyes,” Jevin explained as they moved. “Why would I have a mouth, anyway? That'd just be weird.”

[kryptonitejelly]

“Hey, I think you’re cute.”

Criminal Minds - Aaron Hotchner x You ft. Jack Hotchner Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x You; ft Jack Hotchner Genre: Fluff Warnings: Ass squeezing, but other than that - just domestic Hotchner family fluff. Length: Drabble Where you and Jack have perfected your own little routine.

Inspired by this instagram video.

-

As is the way with almost all teenagers, when they aren’t hiding from you, you hear Jack before you see him. The faint creak of the hinges to his room door as it opens, the light thump of his footsteps as he crosses the hallway, and the soft shuffle as he bounds down the stairs.

“Hey, I think you’re cute.” You wipe your hands on a dishtowel, as he walks into the kitchen, your announcement accompanied by a grin as he walks into the kitchen, hair still mussed from sleep, eyes still adjusting to being awake.

“I think you’re beautiful.” Is what your adopted son responds, a shy but affectionate smile on his face as he shuffles forward, shoving his hands into the front pocket of the hoodie he has on.

It was a little routine that you both had perfected over the years, you telling him that he was cute, and him telling you that you were beautiful. While his manner of speech, vocal register and physical appearance had changed over the years, the one thing that hadn’t was the smile, slightly shy, that slipped onto his face, greeting you in response every single time.

“Come here,” you extend a hand to reach for the bottom of his chin, squeezing it only in the way a parent can, and tugging your teenager towards you, fully intent on smacking a kiss onto his cheek.

“Noo, Mom.” He twists his face away, face scrunching up, eyes squeezed closed as he stumbles towards the side, freeing himself of your grip, reminding you that he is, in fact still a teenage boy.

“Buddy..” You voice is a half whine, half chuckle as you let him step away to slide onto a barstool at the kitchen counter where he drags a plate of pancakes and fruit towards him.

You walked over, hand reaching over to come to a rest on his forehead. It allows you to pull his head towards you, where you plant a loud kiss on the top of his hair. You hear a pancake muffled groan rumble from his body as you let his head go and it makes you laugh.

“We cute too?” The deep voice cuts in, and your grin grows as you turn your body towards the sight of your husband entering the kitchen, your 6 year old girl in his arms.

“Very.” You respond, depositing a kiss onto the cheek of your daughter as Aaron sets her down on a barstool beside Jack.

“Just her?” An arm snakes around your waist as you straighten. You pretend to think, placing a hand to your chin as you tilt your head, which earns you a squeeze of your waist.

“You too Mr Hotchner.” You relent with a small laugh, as you lean up to press a quick kiss to his lips. He lets you go, a twinkle in his eyes, hand dropping from your waist to briefly squeeze your ass through your jeans, winking at you as you break apart, him to to the coffee maker and you to the sink.

@taglist: @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @ssamorganhotchner @katieslotherford @14buddy22 @thebaileybugle @wheelsupkels @dadbodhotch11 @justreadingficsdontmindme @esposadomd @malindacath @captainamericasmotercycle

[ft-3racha]

Hiii!

Soft sex with Chan? 👀🩷

If not it’s ok!!

absolutely !!

i do think that chan is 100% the guy to be into rough stuff as much as he is into soft sex, as long as it‘s with you, the person he loves.

he would make sure to let you know how much he apprechiates your body and take his goddamn time, giving you slow and deep, sensual kisses, your tongues dancing around each other while breathy moans and whines escape your throat.

chan would slowly drag his lips down your neck, leaving kisses, bites and licks all over your soft skin, mumbling little praises more to himself than anything else. your body instantly responds to his actions as you grind yourself on him, your most sensitive parts rubbing against his.

„you are so beautiful.“

„keep on making those sounds for me, pretty. so good f‘me.“

„fuck, i love it when you grind on me. feels so good, baby.“

foreplay would be a necessity, since that man is a god with those pretty lips of his and absolutely knows how to make you fall apart on them, so he would do exactly that…at least once, maybe twice if you beg for it nicely, since that is his favorite thing to hear; your moans, especially when you cum and can‘t get enough of him, so you beg for him to do it again, lightly tugging on his soft curls while his hands stroke your thighs.

„please channie, make me cum again.“

„it feels so good chris, please don‘t stop.“

after all the prepping and taking his time, his patience will leave him eventually, because his cock is rock hard, pre-cum leaking in his briefs (which he looses as fast as he can at that point). even after cumming already, you‘re still so needy for him to take you. and he will. once he is positioned, in missionary, because he loves looking at your face as he enters you, you feel him do exactly that. he slowly pushes into you, and you involuntarily hold your breath at the stretch, because no matter how many times you guys fucked before, the feeling is always absolutely incredible. he‘d take a second or two before moving, every stroke of his slow and deep, precisely hitting that spot inside of you that makes you go absolutely feral. chan would kiss you, whisper sweet nothings into your ear as he fucks into you, the sounds of your bodys colliding filling the room.

„you take me so well, absolutely made for my cock.“

„so good, so fucking tight.“

„feels so good around me, angel. so damn good.“

you‘d see stars with the way his cock makes you feel. your legs would wrap around his hips, nails clawing in his back as your orgasm approaches. he‘d tell you to hold on just a moment longer, his strokes getting sloppier and sloppier, indicating that he, too, is close. and with a deep groan and your name rolling off of his plump lips he‘d cum, sending you over the edge right with him. the feeling of him spilling into you makes your orgasm ten times more intense, maybe even triggering a second one (if possible, that depends on you).

„gonna fill you up baby, mark you as mine.“

„you gonna cum? just a second longer, hold on for me. i‘m almost there, my love.“

„fuck, angel. i‘m so close, can feel you squeezing me so tight.“

and afterwards? we all know this man is an absolute angel. he‘d make sure you are okay, would clean you up and give you something to drink. chan would take his time to talk about what just happened and ask if everything was absolutely okay with you or if he did anything to make you uncomfortable. he‘d make sure to shower you with kisses before having an actual shower with you, your guys‘ favorite takeout already ordered and comfy clothes waiting to be put on your freshly washed bodies.

„are you okay, angel?“

„here, drink up. you did so well for me, baby.“

„i love you unconditionally.“

[junosartsthetic]

The Babysitter

Headcanon-style fic detailing babysitter!afab!reader and everyone’s favorite gilf, Joseph Joestar. 

Warnings: penetrative sex, vaginal sex, oral sex, unprotected sex, slight mention of pregnancy, fingering, joseph being a cheater, age gap, rough sex, praising, use of pet names (sweetheart, honey), mdni, minors do not interact, all characters are 18+, smut

I should be ashamed of myself. But I’m not. Anyway.

--

You’re hired as a long-term babysitter for young Holly.

Her mother is often away on business, with her father only stopping in every so often.

It starts out innocently enough, but soon Joseph’s touches on your shoulder, and hands on your waist to get by you turn into more.

He’s a very attractive man, with scattered silver-haired dotted in his hair and beard only adding to his appeal. 

You are well aware he has a wife.

And you are well aware that when he asks you to step into his bedroom to talk for a moment, more is on the table.

You should deny his request. Tell him to have a nice evening and that you’ll be back tomorrow to watch over Holly. 

But you don’t.

Despite how wrong it is, you can’t help the excited fluttering of your chest as he shuts the door behind the two of you.

“You’ve been such a good baby-sitter for my Holly,” he explains, placing a hand on your shoulder.

“I try my best, Mr. Joestar.”

“No need for that. Just call me Joseph. I think we’re close enough for that, don’t you?”

You swallow, nodding. You can feel your entire body trembling with anticipation. 

“Good girl. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

His hand migrates down your arm, caressing your bare flesh.

Your tank top provides ample room to touch your revealed skin, prickling in the cool room.

“Since Suzie Q rarely comes home, I’ve been struggling on my own. I’ll be honest. It gets lonely for me, you understand?”

“I see. I’m sorry to hear that. Is there any way I can help?”

You know the implication of your words.

And so does he.

He says nothing as his hand slips under your clothing.

You shiver as his large fingers trace along your stomach, gliding up to gently squeeze your breast.

You notice a shimmer of hesitation.

Your hand moves atop his, feeling it through the fabric of your shirt.

You squeeze it.

Any caution he had is thrown into the wind.

Of course, he never had any to begin with.

Within moments, his lips mold against yours.

His facial hair is scratchy against your face, but you pay no mind as you deepen the kiss.

He massages your breast with his hand, his other wrapping around your waist to pull you flush against him.

You tangle your hands in his hair, desperately pushing yourself closer to his muscled physique. 

You don’t remember your top being thrown off, nor your shorts falling to the floor as you’re pushed closer to the comfortable bed sheets.

Your back touches the blanket, and you’re pinned down as Joseph kisses your neck harshly.

Hickies form as he trails down your body, teeth finally hitting the waistband of your panties.

He wastes no time in pulling them down your thighs, giving him a clear view of your dampened cunt.

He falls to his knees, smiling up at you as your breath hitches.

Teasingly, he licks up your folds, only enough to have you squirming in impatience.

“Please,” you whimper, already overstimulated from this sudden turn of events.

“Please what?” he questions, his hands spreading your quivering thighs apart.

“I, I need you, Joseph.”

“C’mon, sweetheart. Use your words.”

“I need your tongue inside, inside me,” you choke out, face burning in embaressement. “Please!”

“Good girl,” he purrs, tongue returning to explore your entrance.

He does so delicately, barely sliding inside before retreating.

It’s not enough.

You need—

“More,” you mumble, your hands finding grasp in his hair.

“Patience is not a virtue of yours,” he teases.

Suddenly, two fingers are thrust inside of you.

You let out a silent gasp, breath hitching.

You barely have time to register the digits before he begins to move them, his other hand playing with your clit.

Any words are caught in your throat as he picks up the pace, your hips bucking desperately upwards as your legs tremble.

Before you can think, a wave of breathlessness washes over you, orgasm flooding your senses.

Cum leaks from your overwhelmed cunt, covering Joseph’s fingers as he eagerly tastes your release.

You try to calm yourself, but only get a moment’s relief before Joseph rises from his spot, his muscled arms flipping you on your chest.

Your breasts push against the mattress as he unclips your bra, throwing it carelessly across the room.

Your dripping cunt feels overwhelmed, clit brushing against the silken sheets as Joseph pushes your back further down.

“Take a breath, sweetheart,” he instructs, pulling down his bottoms and boxers to reveal his hardened cock.

You do as he says, lungs taking in as much as air as they can, only to gasp it all out as he roughly slides himself into you.

Any gentleness has been tossed aside, leaving him to buck into your overworked cunt mercilessly.

“Jo—Joseph,” you pant, hands desperately clawing for purchase on the sheets. “I—”

“Shh, honey,” he moans, leaning overtop your writhing and desperate form. “You’re doing so so good for me.”

His praise halts your overwhelmed cries, leaving you to babble incomprehensibly as his fast pace begins to stutter.

You can feel every twitch of his dick inside of you, walls clenching harshly around him as he slides himself completely inside, reaching places you didn’t think possible.

You know what’s coming.

You know you should beg for him to pull out.

But a part of you moans at the thought of his cum inside of you.

Becoming more than just the babysitter.

“Don’ worry,” he huffs, barely holding back a groan. “‘m sterilized.” 

WIth that, he cums violently, the warm liquid painting your walls as you reach your own high for the second time.

Your intrusive thoughts about becoming pregnant reside, a big part of you relieved at the new information.

Your entire body relaxes, muscles unconstricting as he pulls out of your leaking cunt.

You barely register his gentle hands picking you up as he carries you to the bathroom.

“Let’s clean you off, sweetheart.”

You let out a weak hum, eager to feel the hot bath water soothing your already aching core.

[mo-ok]

Ive drawn every day this week 👌👌👌 please enjoy the unnecessary amount of Go On RPM content (I cannot be stopped)

[natsudragneelswh0re]

i love this side of natsu

[trollcafe]

The Job Will Never Get Done

Google Docs Link || Song LinkCowritten with Robin<3<3 Twitch, Hanagi, Abidel, & the Headmistress are @byrdstrolls

The second your feet hit the roof of Mondes Rosado’s hive, you felt regret. That was far louder than you wanted it to be. The poor residents must be scared out of their minds. You glance up to flash your pilot a thumbs up. The lights of your ship flash once to let you know she got your message. 

It was rude not to use the front door. But, in your defense, you had been at work! Your private ship was just a bit too big to land anywhere nearby, especially without prior warning. You didn’t have time to think of sending anyone a warning. You followed your instinct.Your instinct told you to pack a bag of important things, and rush to the Rosado residence at breakneck speeds. 

The garden you landed on was very well kept. You do your best to scuff back the dirt into place with your tail before making your way to the only door you saw. 

You had little hope that anyone would be there. And yet, you knock. 

You hear the sound of footsteps, urgent, darting away from the door. But no answer. The urgency in the sound had you concerned enough to try turning the knob. Your concern and muddled thoughts made it difficult to control your grip, and as such, the doorknob cracks as you twist it too far. Oops. The front door would’ve been much easier.

The knob falls to the ground as you release it. You gently nudge the door open, slowly as to not scare whoever had been on the other side. You weren’t entirely sure who you were expecting. One of the Cheongs, maybe. A pet, perhaps. Mondes surely would’ve answered the door, so it wouldn’t be him. Of everything you would have expected, none were your daughter. 

Curled in on herself, brandishing only a pen as her weapon. Flat against the wall, shaking like a leaf. Her eyes were wild, frenzied, like a cornered animal. There was a growing pile of soda cans, coffee mugs and empty snack bowls that sat beside her, like guarding this spot had been a day-long endeavor. You didn’t catch any hint of recognition in that wild stare, not yet.  

The silence felt thick, but you couldn’t let it linger. You push the shock down deep, replacing it with a warm smile as you duck into the doorway. You kneel down to be on her level. Less threatening. You could hear the sound of footsteps, frantic in their own way, approaching. Ascending the stairs. That was the least of your worries. You let the bag on your shoulder fall to the ground beside you, and hold your hands out. 

“Hello, my bumblebee.”

She stiffens, in recognition but not quite relaxation- simply overtaken by a different kind of fear. 

“You broke Mondes’s door,” She accuses. How small she sounded, tucked in on herself like that.

“I’ll fix it,” You promise, glancing back guilty. 

“I’m sorry,” She says, the words only making it halfway through her throat before she chokes on them, trying to blink back tears springing from deep, dangerous wells in her eyes and heart. “I’m so sorry,” she says, arms clinging tightly to her sides, “I was-” She stumbles, words once again overtaken by sobs, she tries to find the words to explain, “I was so stupid,” 

 Wordlessly, you reach over and pull your daughter into a hug. 

Bee’s eyes widen, and something ancient in her releases. She leans into your embrace, burying herself in your arms as if she could disappear into them. Shakily, you raise a hand to run through her hair. She feels so small in your arms. When did she get so skinny- when did she start to feel so hollow? Had you really been so absent in her life, that you completely missed her disappearing into thin air? 

“I was so stupid,” You reply, trying to keep the waver from your voice. Stupid enough to let her enlist at all, stupid enough to spend so much time away from home. Something passes through her eyes like an unspoken argument, an unwillingness to let you have the blame, but she does not have the strength to voice it. She simply continues to cry. You hold her there for some time, rocking back and forth and muttering the occasional soft reassurance. You wait for her breathing to ease, for some of the tension in her shoulders to release, before you even attempt to speak again. 

“Bee” You say, so gently, leaning back to cup her cheek, wiping a trail of violet tears from her eyes. “Who were you waiting here for?” 

All at once again, she stiffens. The tension that took so long to release came back in an instant. “...What?” She says, quietly. 

“Who were you waiting here for?” You ask, glancing at the dishes. “Looking so scared, wielding a pen at the door.” 

“No one” She says, her voice jumping the octave, suddenly distant. Her crumbling walls bolt up once more. Desperately trying to maintain a long-dead facade. You stare at her, and she avoids your gaze. Knowing you of all people see through her like an open window, but still unwilling to back down on the lie. 

“It’s okay, Bee,” You say. “I can help you, I promise.”

She continues to look away, ever so quietly shaking her head as tears well in her eyes. 

“You know I would move heaven and earth,” you say, “to keep you safe, Bumblebee. Please, my love.” You plead. Trying your hardest to not seem as desperate as you felt. She starts to sob again. 

“You can't,” She says. 

“I’ll find a way.” You say. 

“Don’t go to her,” She begs, and your pan kicks into overdrive, playing the pronoun game, running through every she/her you know.

“She’ll tell you things about me,” She says. “She’ll turn you against me.” 

“Who?” You ask one more time. “What things?” 

“Don’t,” She begs again, eyes darting to the corners of the room as if unsure she’s being watched. 

“Bee,” You say helplessly. “Nobodies watching. Who did this to you?”

“No one” She repeats. “did anything to me. I did it all wrong. You don’t understand.” 

“Help me understand,” You ask softly. 

She is silent, trying to control her breathing for an age. 

“She promised me so much,” She sobs. “She gave me so many things. I was so greedy," she says. 

And your mind runs into overdrive once more, thinking back through the past few sweeps. Desperately connecting dots, remembering her, remembering her coming home from the holidays, with new laptops, fancy fighter vessels, top of the line scientific equipment, lavish gifts for her siblings, you remember having asked her, where it all had came from, asking her how she could afford it all, she had dismissed you with a vague and cheeky, 

“School” she had said. She had gotten it all from school. 

“Peonie,” You guess, naming one of the few teachers you knew. Her head shakes quietly. 

“The headmistress.” You guess, next, and she pales, pulling tight like a barbed wire, the whites of her eyes peeking through the hands that snap up to cover her face. 

“No!” She insists, sharply, angrily. Yes, you think, with a near unfounded certainty. 

“It’s okay” You say, pulling her close as she starts to cry. “You’re safe. It’s gonna be okay” You repeat, hoping the words don’t fall as flat as they feel. They must have some effect, as she goes limper in your arms again, crying quietly. 

Is this how Jodiah felt? This inability to say anything meaningful? This deep, painful ache in your chest, knowing there are better words out there, but being unable to say anything? Bless his poor pusher, and bless your little Bee’s as well. You pull her back into your chest, wrapping your arms around her once more. You press a soft kiss to her hooded head, silently hoping she knew she was safe now. You hold her as if you were afraid she’d disappear once more. Never again, you thought, would you allow this to happen. 

The blankets you had kept for her, and could never bring it upon yourself to discard, get draped over her shoulders. You do your best to bundle her up. Like you had when she was little, and afraid of the dark. The dark couldn’t hurt her when she was bundled up so safe. You wouldn’t allow it. Did she remember those days, you wonder. Did she remember hugging her stuffed shark, almost as tight as she did now? She looked about as little as she had back then. You would smooth her hair back and promise her the dark couldn’t do a thing. Now you were going to ensure that. 

“I’ll be back soon,” you promise her with a soft, almost sad smile. You stood slowly, wanting more than anything to pick her up and take her home. Somewhere she could really heal. Where she could be safe. Where you could hold her close. But you knew that wouldn’t be feasible. Not yet. 

Hanagi Cheong, the brains of the operation it seems, is everything you expected her to be. Jaded, confident, but not at her fullest. You could hardly blame her. So young, and yet she’d seen more than you could imagine. She looks up at you without much outward fear. If you were planning ons staying, you would’ve taken a seat, something to make talking easier. 

You hand a business card to her. It was a typical Fleet issued business card for those higher up fools such as yourself. On the back, however, was a different number. 

“Please, if you and your family need anything- not just in regards to Twitch- reach out.” 

The rust eyes the card suspiciously, and rightfully so. 

“It’s a secure number.” You smile softly, “It was my matesprit’s, before she passed. She smuggled Fleet-issued medications into rebel districts, and to this day has yet to be caught. If anyone has a secure line…it’d be her.” 

You’re not positive Hanagi truly accepts this, but she takes the card with a soft, “Thanks.” 

You keep your smile warm, your hands clasped together in a passive sign of pleasure. You’ve had many centuries to perfect your body language. You could fool just about anyone. 

You check on Twitch one last time before you leave. Mostly ensuring you could leave her. It hurt more than words could describe. But you would be back- you promised her that. 

- - - 

The pilot of your ship gives you a curious look when you tell her your next location. She opens her mouth as if to question you, something you usually were happy to indulge in, but there must’ve been something in your expression to shut her up. Your facade must be slipping. 

It would not take long to get there. Truth be told, using your ship rather than any other local means of transportation could easily be seen as a waste. But your ship is the only place you can hang your coat, the only place where your strife still resided. A large war hammer hung on the wall, happy in its retirement. You had affectionately called it the HammerHead when you were young and still cool. It was more a decoration than anything these days. It would occasionally accompany you for public appearances, where you’d hold it by your side like a true guard. Or some laughable version of a grim reaper. There was hardly a need for such primitive means of a fight these days- being the Head of Security means you had access to just about anything you may need. 

But this mission was personal. It required a more personal means of communication.

You instruct your pilot to enter the Fleet Academy’s airfield, not to wait for permission to land. She seems uneasy, but trusts you. Why shouldn’t she? You didn’t technically need permission if you were doing your administrative rounds. You never warned the caverns of your visits. Why should you warn the Academy? Your administrative rounds came early this sweep, is all.

You rolled your chin down to your chest and back, rolled your tight shoulders up and down. This did little to ease your pilot’s growing nerves. The ship landed on the pad, and she turned around in her chair to finally meet your gaze. 

“Sir?” 

You pause your stretching, raising your brows, “Yes, Bevins?” 

You feel her bronze eyes study you closely. Bevins had been a good pilot, she’d been with you now for many sweeps. She had yet to see you limber up before going on rounds, yet to see you bring your strife along. You fear the silence between you two would last a sweep.

“...Should I make some phone calls?” She finally asks. 

You smile softly, giving her a nod of confirmation, “That would be wise. Let the Ghoulkeeper know I may need him to ensure Merkii gets dinner.” You pause for a moment, pondering your options, “And let Syndicate know I’ll be cashing in that favor.” 

She looks unease, but nods, and finally opens the hatch for you to leave. 

You had been around too long to not know exactly how your actions would play out. This was far from your first rodeo. The Fleet could take your freedom, take the future you so desperately wanted. They took your matesprit, turned your only biological descendants into barely functioning disasters. They can muddle your name, riddle you with scars, take what was left of your autonomy. But you refused to let them take another daughter. What could they do? Add another 300 sweeps to your contract? Hah, that alone was laughable. Let them do what they want with you, but you would not let them hurt her again. 

Anger was not an emotion you pride yourself on, you worked hard to keep it buried deep within your chest. The gravel crunches softly beneath your boots as you make your way in, reflecting on the irony. Had you not scolded the young rockstar for holding his anger deep down? What was it he had said- he kept it there in a glass bottle. At the ready, like a molotov cocktail. You understood now.

Once you are inside the academy, security is sparse. This building was built to keep threats out- it was not prepared for one to walk so easily through the front door, wearing their banner, carrying fleet flight codes. It's early, just past sunset, and the headmistress’s office door is guarded only by her secretary, boredly sorting papers. Abidel nearly spits up their coffee when you enter. 

“Her Beloved Annihilation” They cough, attempting a salute and frantically trying to clean their messy desk, electing instead to just stand in front of it instead. “To what do I owe the pleasure?” 

“Just visiting. Making my rounds,” You respond with a faux smile. Trying to appear unthreatening. It was near impossible to appear such with the anger that boiled inside you. The lime reminded you, momentarily, of Jodiah. Abidel was not the source of your displeasure, you had no reason to treat them with any hostility. 

Their eyes catch your guarded, iron gaze, and trace your arm down to your weapon. Though you tried to appear at ease, you gripped the hilt of your strife tightly.  

“Right,” The limeblood squeaks. They do not dial up the button to alert Nandor when they buzz you in the door. 

“Thank you, little one.” You pat their desk lightly in appreciation, taking a silent note of the various knick-knacks, “While I have you here- I believe an old friend of mine studied here a long time ago. Would you mind fetching me his files from the archives? Hantos Charon would be the name.” 

“Oh. Um, yes…sir.” The lime is frozen for a second, as if uncertain of your request. You wait with the same forced smile until they gain their senses and leave quickly. You might’ve felt guilty sending them on a wild goose chase for records that didn’t exist if it wasn’t done in their best interest. You quietly straighten out one of the little knick-knacks that had gotten knocked over in their haste to clean. 

You take a deep breath and exhale out slowly. You hoist your hammer against your shoulder, steel your jaw, and head into the Headmistress’ office.