#I don’t mind that it just means that zero very quickly arrives and makes an utter mess of eyrie’s head and then leaves

[impossible-rat-babies]

thinking. rotating even. eyrie’s way of showing love and how it so quietly bloomed during their time in thavnair w estinien. how it slowly found its way there and so much of how it was both felt. they love each other—as friends and romantically. it’s all there, utterly unspoken, but it’s there.

[thesith]

— Chapter Two: Attachment

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“It is Hunter’s turn to keep watch, so I am on story duty. Where did he leave off?” Tech asked, uninterested in telling the story - there are many things he could do with his time; fix devices that don’t need to be fixed, watch a holomovie, tinkering with tools. But no, Hunter needed him to help Omega fall asleep, so that’s what he’ll do. Maybe he’ll even supplement parts of the story with recordings he took during battle.

Your first mission with your new squad exceeded your expectations. The group of four was more capable than an army - more efficient, too. After showering to cleanse your body of filth, you took residence in the gunner’s mount to meditate.

You closed your eyes and quieted your mind, finding solitude in the darkness behind your eyelids. You opened your senses, feeling small blips in the engine, the powering-up of Gonky, a presence behind you.

The intentions of the person standing there were clear as day, and you thought it was time to answer the question that laid on the sniper’s mind.

“My Master was killed. This isn’t a punishment - it’s a temporary placement.” You quietly spoke to Crosshair, who didn’t respond verbally. The nod of his head reverberated through the Force, as did his echoing footsteps. You relaxed once more, finding some semblance of peace in such a violent galaxy.

Crosshair walked up to his brothers who were all sitting in their respective seats in the cockpit, taking a seat on his own chair, “Their Master died.”

Unsurprised looks from Tech and Hunter met his eyes, along with a gasp from an unsuspecting Wrecker.

“I know. I was told when they were first assigned to our squad,” Hunter started, thinking of his next words, “I know you don’t do well with change - none of us do. It’s always been us against the world, but I need you to try - that goes for all of you. They will open up about things when they’re ready.”

Days turned into weeks and weeks into months with your new team, and you quickly found your place among them - you felt like one of them; a luxury you’d never had before. Among the Jedi, the only place you felt you belonged was with your Master - now you’re making a new meaning for yourself.

You were laying in your bunk and staring at the ceiling when Wrecker came to you, a nervous energy filling the room.

“What’s up, Wrecker? Are you feeling okay?” You asked out of concern for the large clone, throwing your legs over the side of your bunk and looking at him.

He nodded and rubbed the back of his head, “I was wondering, y’know, if I could try your laser sword? It just seems super cool ‘nd every time I see one I wanna try it.”

So he was nervous you’d say no, note taken. “Not on the ship, but when we arrive at the next planet maybe.” In very rare circumstances non-Jedi/Force-wielders were allowed to use a lightsaber, but you liked Wrecker and trust him - plus, he’d be under your watchful eye the entire time.

His eyes widened with glee and a large smile encased his lips. He excitedly skipped to the cockpit, making the floor rumble with each landing.

You thoroughly enjoyed working with the self-proclaimed ‘Bad Batch’ - more individualistic than most other clones you’d worked with before. They seemed to have a blatant disregard for orders (save for Hunter’s) & their own way of doing things, which earned them a 100% success rate with zero casualties.

After being away for half a year (approximately 190 rotations), you were hailed back to Coruscant to provide the Council with an update on your endeavors. You hadn’t been back since your departure with the Bad Batch, which earned you and your squad a few days “vacation-time” on the ecumenopolis.

The Council was eager to hear your report - which was very evident by the continuous stream of questions - that you spoke in detail. You elaborated on your missions, what actions you took during, and the roles you played.

“Clone Force 99 is proficient in many areas, they are some of the finest clones I’ve had the pleasure of working with.”

Master Windu was next to speak, “And if we were to transfer you to another squadron? How would you feel about that?”

‘Pissed’ is what you wanted to say, yet you held your tongue. You opted for “I’d go wherever you send me, Master Windu.”

“I don’t think that was the question, Padawan. How would you feel?” He pushed, not believing your initial answer. “Attachments are forbidden, you know this.”

“Yes, Master Windu. I understand that attachments are forbidden to Jedi, so I would not have any feelings on the matter. I would believe that you used your judgement to transfer me and had the best interests of the Republic in mind.” It was a bold-faced lie - you would have feelings about it, but you’d never admit that to the Council.

Mace nodded, “We still haven't found a Master to finish your training - if one isn’t found in the next few months, one of the Council members will take over.”

“I see.” Honestly you hadn’t thought of that in the past few months - you found your footing with the Bad Batch, and the thought of having to leave them hadn’t crossed your mind. Then again, you were a Padawan still so that’s to be expected.

“Have something on your mind, do you?” The Grand Master asked, observing the thoughtful look on your face. Nothing got past him.

You replied, “Just haven’t thought much about what comes next, Master Yoda.”

“Mmm.” He hummed, looking around the room, “Adjourned, this meeting is.”

You took your leave from the room, exhaling a breath you didn’t know you were holding. You made a bee-line for the Marauder, wanting nothing more than to speak to Hunter. When you arrived, you found Hunter in the cock-pit.

“How’d the meeting go?” It was almost as if he sensed your discomfort - or maybe he saw the look on your face. Contemplative features, every few seconds scrunching in distaste. “How about we go for a walk?”

You nodded and tugged your robes closer to you - a habit you’d picked up from your Master. The two of you exited the Marauder and breathed in the Coruscant air. You turned your head to look at Hunter and were met with an uncomfortable face.

Oh shit. Coruscant is a planet-wide city - he’s overwhelmed by the electromagnetic frequencies, the bustling vehicles, the many voices crowding the streets. You tugged Hunter’s arm and led him into the Temple, straight toward your empty quarters.

“Sorry for dragging you,” You apologized while opening the door, “I could sense how uncomfortable you were - y’know, the city and everything. Hopefully this is at least a little better.”

Hunter looked at you thoughtfully, “It is. Thanks.”

You made yourself comfortable on the couch, motioning for Hunter to sit next to you.

He took a seat on the opposite end of the couch and faced you, “So, what happened?”

“They asked me a ton of questions regarding our missions, how effectively we completed them, and you know, how I’d feel if they placed me with another unit…”

Something in Hunter snapped, “They what?”

“Yeah, they also told me that if they can’t find a new master for me to complete my training under within the coming months, I’ll be placed with a Council member.” You placed a hand on your forehead and allowed it to run down your face, “I haven’t even thought about having to leave.”

“Yeah, us either. You’re part of our team…” Hunter trailed off, leaving many things left unsaid, “Just gotta make the most of the time we have left.”

You didn’t think literally, but when nightfall came and your squad dragged you into the busy night-life of Coruscant and into a tattoo shop, you realized his words were literal. You’d seen all of their squad tattoos (in various places), and they’d all expressed interest in getting more done, but you weren’t sure why they dragged you there too.

“I think I’m gonna get a face-tat. Like, a half-skull?”

The idea of that on Hunter was mouth-watering, “Like your helmet? Sounds cool.”

”I think Cross is gonna get the crosshair on his eye, too - not sure about Tech and Wrecker, but they’ll probably come up with something.”

“So, am I here to give my opinion?” You asked, the loud music making it hard for your to hear yourself.

Hunter smiled and shook his head, “Nah, you’re here to get one too,” he paused, scanning your face for a negative sign, “Only if you want to, though! No pressure.”

“Jedi don’t usually get tattoos, Hunter.” No matter how desperately you’d wanted one, you weren’t sure if it’d be in your best interest.

He placed a hand to your shoulder, “Well, it’s a good thing you aren’t a usual Jedi, then. I was thinking, how about our squad logo? I wasn’t lying when I said that you are one of us.”

Your heart warmed at the admission and implication - no matter where you were and what you were doing, you’d always be part of the Bad Batch. You loved the idea, “Where are you thinking, then? I can’t have it somewhere obvious - the council would know, and I’d probably be expelled from the Order.”

“More time with us, then.” Hunter deadpanned before breaking into a smile, “Joking, joking - you’ve seen where Tech’s is, right? His lower back?”

“That’s a good place, but I was thinking…” You trailed off, not wanting to reveal anything just yet.

All bearing new tattoos, you exited the sketchy-looking building (which you discovered is where most clones get theirs done) and trekked down the street to 79s for some drinks, which was definitely also against the code. You were dressed in civvies: the clones in the bar wouldn’t recognize you without your staple-robes.

After safely making it back to your quarters (and somehow sneaking the group of clones inside the Temple), you flopped onto your bed, releasing a tired sigh. You wanted nothing more than to pass out, but the Batch had other plans.

“Are clones permitted to be in the Jedi Temple?” Tech asked your flat body.

You used your elbows to push yourself up, leaning on them, “Only some facilities. Definitely not personal quarters, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Are clones allowed in the library? Or archives? I find the Jedi Order to be fascinating with all of the rules and regulations set in place.”

“I don’t think so - I’ve never seen a clone in either. Then again, no clone is as interested in learning as you, Tech. I can ask around for you, see if there’s any way?” You proposed, not wanting to take the clone away from knowledge he’s so eager to learn about. “Holocrons are different, though. They hold teachings and wisdom of Jedi and can only be activated through the use of the Force.”

“How exactly does the Force work? Anything notable on how it feels?”

You sighed and sat up completely, resting your back against the wall and crossing your legs. “I can try to show you - it’s difficult to explain. I’ve never meditated with non-Jedi, but I think I can help you feel it for yourself. Everybody has a presence in the Force.”

Tech sat on the cold floor and imitated your form, watching you intently. He watched as you allowed your eyes to close, resulting in him doing the same.

You opened yourself up to the Force, feeling everything around you. You could feel Hunter’s breathing in the room over, Crosshair’s meddling with his civvie wristwatch, Wrecker scavenging your kitchen for food.

“The Force surrounds you, flows through you. Silence your mind and subject yourself to feeling,” You stretched your Force presence toward Tech in hopes that it’d calm him and help him to feel his surroundings. Your method proved successful, as a gasp escaped Tech’s mouth. “Hear the bustling vehicles, the humming of ships, people conversing on the streets.” You pushed further, allowing some of your strength in the Force to run through Tech.

“I feel… worried. I can hear a familiar voice in my head - your voice.”

Maybe Tech was more Force-sensitive than you’d anticipated.

“I can feel Hunter’s concern from the adjacent room. I believe he’s worried about you.” Tech stopped to take a deep breath, “He doesn’t want you to leave us - he lo-”

You brought your Force presence back to yourself, cutting Tech off. You didn’t want to hear the rest of that sentence, as it’d make your attachment to them more real. You’d been doing a good job at pushing down your feelings, pretending the attachment doesn’t exist - if you’d allowed Tech to finish that sentence, you didn’t know if you’d be able to hold out any longer.

“That was… enlightening. Thank you, Commander, for allowing me to experience the Force as you do. My hypothesis was incorrect, though I should have been sure of that earlier on.” Tech paused, crafting his next sentence carefully, “The Force really is living and breathing, residing in all life.”

“The Force is life, Tech.” You added on, “and you’re welcome. I hope that gave you more insight.”

“It did,” Tech unfolded from his position and pulled out his datapad to presumably take notes, “If I’d asked any other Jedi, or Force-wielder for insight, they would not have allowed me to experience it first-hand as you did.”

You nodded as a sign of recognition and Tech turned and left the room, fondling with his datapad as he returned to his brothers.

Your Master’s quarters felt a lot less lonely with them here.

[guess-my-next-obsession]

August — Chapter Seven

pairing: frankie morales x f!ofc (rebecca herrera)

chapter rating: E (marijuana use, handjob, cum eating, oral sex (m/f receiving), unprotected piv, creampie)

word count: 4.3k

series masterlist

“Did you have a good time?” Frankie walked Becca to his car in the parking lot with his arm draped over her shoulder, leaning over and placing a kiss to her temple.

“Uh…yeah. It was a nice concert.” She kept her true feelings close to the chest, but Frankie could see right through it. He stopped her in the middle of the parking lot and frowned, lacing his brows together in concern. “It’s nothing, I’m probably just tired and overreacting. It’s nothing.”

“It’s not nothing to me, cariño. What’s wrong? Did you not like the music?” He asked with investigative eyes, trying to study even the slightest of movements to uncover the truth.

“No, no, it’s just…” She sighed as she thought back to how his friends talked over her the entire night.

She knew it likely wasn’t intentional—Santi and Benny seemed like genuinely nice people, and she held no ill-feelings towards them. They probably just missed Frankie and wanted to get in a good amount of quality time with him while he was around, something Becca completely empathized with. But still, getting talked over and ignored was never a good feeling, especially when she was coming in as someone much younger and a total outsider to their friendship. “I’m tired, Frankie. I don’t wanna talk about it. Can we just go?”

“Well, I do want to talk about it, Becca. You’re obviously upset and I’m just trying to understand why, because I had a great time tonight—“

“Of course you did.” She snapped, surprising not only Frankie but also herself with her tone. With a sigh she looked off to the side, a tear of frustration falling down her cheeks.

She really was tired. It had been a long day—starting with her parents negative reaction to their relationship, then the four hour road trip, and almost immediately once they got back into town they were off to a concert with two forty year old men she’d never met. It was a lot for anyone to take in less than 24-hours.

“Hey,” he cooed and reached to wipe her tear away with his thumb, cradling her face. “Do you want to talk in the car?”

Becca nodded and avoided his eyes as he grabbed her hand and held it in his, his thumb stroking her skin as he led them to his car. He helped her inside, this time with zero fight from her, and quickly walked around to climb into the drivers side. Turning the ignition on, he looked over at her, her eyes turned down as she studied the lines on her palms.

“What’s going on, baby?” His voice was so tender, making her feel even worse for ruining his night. This was the last thing she wanted to happen, and for it to happen so soon after they arrived back to town was surely not setting them off on the right foot.

“I just felt like…like everyone was talking over me and sort of just…I don’t know. Like nobody cared that I was there or just…I don’t know. I told you it was stupid.” Becca kept her eyes locked on her hands until Frankie tilted her chin towards him with his fingers. She chuckled weakly at her own emotions, shrugging. “I know that they didn’t mean any harm, but it’s never nice to be so anxious to meet someone and then have your anxieties confirmed by them.”

“I don’t want you to think that you should hold your feelings in because you think it’s nothing. It’s not nothing, Becca. I want to know what’s going on in your head, okay?” Becca nodded and reached her hand over to intertwine with his. “And I’m really sorry that we made you feel that way. I sort of noticed it towards the end of the night, but I just assumed you were tired. I really didn’t mean to ignore you or talk over you—“

“No, you didn’t. It was mostly your friends, but like I said, I get it. They wanted a night out with their friend and instead got a night out with you plus your 24 year-old girlfriend—your very new girlfriend, at that. It makes sense that they wouldn’t pay me much mind.” She shrugged, watching as Frankie shook his head.

“No, stop making excuses for people, Bex. If they hurt your feelings, they hurt your feelings. I’ll talk to them and ask them what happened.” Becca shook her head and protested adamantly.

“No, I don’t want them to see me as some whiny little kid who wants you all to myself. I’m glad you had such a good time tonight with your friends. I want you to have more good nights like this, even if you don’t bring me along from now on.” Frankie frowned at the idea of that. He really didn’t think it was possible anymore to have a good night without having Becca woven into it at least a little. “I’m fine, just…just a little hungry and a lot tired.”

“Okay, I’ll leave it alone.” He offered her a soft smile before backing out of the parking lot. “Where do you want to eat, baby?”

“In-N-Out sounds pretty good right now.” She gave him puppy dog eyes and earned a sincere chuckle, effectively taking him out of his concerned state and back to the man she knew well. “Oh! But I need to stop by my apartment really quick to grab something.”

“Okay, put in the address in my GPS and we can swing by before we grab your precious food.” Frankie couldn’t help the grin that grew on his face as he glanced over at Becca’s concentrated eyes, watching as she tried and failed to figure out his car’s touch-screen stereo.

“Fuck this,” she huffed out after a couple minutes, sitting back in her seat and using her phone’s GPS instead. Frankie chuckled in his seat and faced the road, the red and green stoplights casting a pretty glow on his face anytime Becca dared to look over at him. “I’ve never felt more old in my life.”

“You’ll figure it out one day, baby. Just hang in there.” His tone was purposefully condescending, earning him a pinch on his thigh. “Just kidding, cariño.”

Becca dodged his hand with a smirk as he reached over to pat her head, grabbing his wrist and bringing it to her mouth for a playful bite. Frankie gasped in feigned offense at her action before giving her another smile, resting his hand on her thigh as her phone read out directions.

Sooner than he predicted, he was pulling up to a modern but modest looking apartment complex, Becca instructing him to just park on the road while she ran upstairs.

“I can’t come in?” He asked with a pout.

“I have roommates,” she reminded him again as she stood outside the car, holding the door open and ducking her head down to speak. “Don’t want them asking me questions about my hot older boyfriend just yet.”

“Alright, the hot, older boyfriend will stay down here, I suppose.” He gave her a playful eye roll and begrudgingly gave in to remaining in the car, his bottom lip still poked out in a frown.

“I promise you’re not missing out. I’ll only be a minute.” He nodded and Becca closed the door before jogging inside the building and disappearing.

As he sat in the car, he couldn’t help but think about the earlier fight—if you could even call it that. Still, it bothered him that she tended to do this whole bottling-things-up thing rather than just openly communicating with him. Perhaps it was the age difference, or perhaps it was just a matter of personality, but through years of trial and error, he leaned how important it was to talk about how he was feeling. Keeping feelings buried inside like that only made them fester and rot, and even the littlest of negative thoughts could grow into something nasty and consuming.

Pulling out his phone, he opened up his text chain with Santi and began typing a message.

F—Hey, so Bex and I just had our first fight.

Only a few seconds later, his phone buzzed.

S—Oh no, what happened?

F—She sort of felt like we were talking over her and ignoring her, and I can see it. I’m just trying to make sure she feels comfortable when she’s hanging out with us in the future.

It took a little bit longer for him to get a response this time, but soon his phone rang in his lap. He sighed and slid the button to answer the call from his friend, his eyes glued to the door Becca went into to watch for when she came back out.

“Hey,” Frankie exhaled into the phone, rubbing his temples.

“Hey, man. I’m so sorry that she felt that way, I really tried to include her but she was just being so quiet. I just assumed she was tired or not really into the conversation. I didn’t mean anything by it.” Santi sounded genuinely apologetic, and to hear him be anything but the sarcastic and slightly neurotic little shit Frankie had come to know was strange. “I feel bad, man.”

“No, yeah. I thought the same thing, but she said she was really anxious going into it, I guess, and the way she was sort of forgotten about kinda confirmed those anxieties.” He sighed into the phone and shrugged though no one was there to see it. “I just want her to be able to enjoy herself with you guys, so maybe next time just try and include her a bit more. Even if she’s being quiet. I think she was just nervous, and not to mention it’s been a long fucking day for her. I mean, just this morning her parents found out and they didn’t react well at all. So…I just want to make sure she’s feeling welcomed, in case her family excludes her because of me. I don’t know.”

“No, you’re being a very good boyfriend. Ew, do you hear that? Frankie Morales is a boyfriend.”

“At the ripe age of forty. Finally did it.” He chuckled but it was cut off by seeing Becca walk towards the car. “Hey, gotta go.”

Without saying goodbye, he hung up the call and unlocked the back door for Becca to toss her overnight bag in along with an oddly shaped one. When she sat back in the passenger seat he nudged his head back towards it, earning a grin.

“What’s that?”

“My bong. Is it okay that I brought it? You and I have never really had the drug chat.” Frankie chuckled and nodded his head, actually a bit delighted in the idea of getting high with her.

“No, I’m cool with weed. Just maybe not the harder stuff…there’s a…a history there, but I can tell you all about that some other time.” Becca laced her brows together in interest, but given the way he stiffened up while talking about it, she decided not to pry. Sucking in a quick inhale, Frankie looked over at her with a nervous smile. “Okay, time for burgers.”

An hour or so later, Becca had set up her bong on Frankie’s coffee table along with their burgers, fries and shakes. Frankie was in the kitchen grabbing two plates and some napkins while she loaded up the bowl with her ground up weed and sat criss-cross on the sofa cushion. When he came back into the room, she was looking up at him with a wide grin, eager to watch him get high for the first time with her.

“You already starting without me?” He smiled back at her as he settled into the seat beside her, his arm wrapping around her back to pull her closer.

“No, just excited to watch you smoke.” She grabbed the bong and placed it onto his lap, watching as he took it with a nervous smile. “How seasoned in the art of marijuana are you?”

“I used to do it a lot, but I’ve calmed down in my old age.” He chuckled and accepted her lighter, lighting up the bowl and sucking on the stem of the clear glass piece, the bong filling with an opaque white smoke. He lifted the bowl off and sucked in deep, only managing to take in half the smoke. Becca giggled and reached to inhale the rest, trying not to laugh at him as he doubled over onto the seat beside him in a coughing fit while Becca barely even wheezed. “Jesus—you’re a pro.”

“I didn’t take a full hit, but you did. That was a big boy hit.” She chuckled again as he nodded in agreement, reaching for his shake and humming in relief as the cold liquid soothed the burn in his throat. Becca took her turn in taking an actual hit, coughing a bit but not as much him as she set the bong down on the hardwood floor.

It only took a few minutes for the two of them to be swept away in giggles as they scarfed their food and drinks down. Frankie had a really difficult time trying to figure out his smart TV in his current state, earning a laugh once he finally threw his remote down on the coffee table in defeat and surrendered.

“That’s a puzzle. And I’m never gonna solve it.” She giggled and set her nearly-empty shake down on the coffee table before standing up, holding her hand out for him to take. Frankie was all smiles as he accepted it, taking the lead as he walked her through his nicer-than-average north Los Angeles home.

“Your house is bigger than I imagined. Who would’ve thought being a pilot was so lucrative,” she whispered as though they were in a library, making him snort with laughter. “I mean really, how many doors can one home hold?”

“That’s…that question is going to keep me up all night.” He chuckled and finally opened the door to the master bedroom, spinning around as he unveiled it dramatically. “Ta-dah! What do you think?”

“You know, I thought you’d be more messy. You seem like you’d be a messy guy. You always have stains on your shirts and stuff—“

“I don’t always have stains—“ He looked down at the t-shirt he was currently wearing and spotted a big ketchup stain on it, making Becca snort out a chuckle. “Okay, maybe I have a lot of stained clothing. But I like to keep my place clean.”

“In case any ladies come over?”

“In case my sister comes over and tries to berate me for being messy.” He corrected with a grin as he walked to her in the doorway, his hands on her hips pulling her further inside. She giggled as he studied her every feature with the most adoring look she’d ever been on the receiving end of. “She’d like you.”

She looked more nervous and flustered than she ever had as she lovingly removed his hands from her hips, using the ruse of her exploring his bedroom to get out of talking about the possibility of meeting anymore people in his life after tonight’s disaster. His eyes followed her as she walked around the room, her eyes lingering on all the picture frames on his dresser.

“You have a big family,” she commented quietly as she looked at a picture of his entire family around a Christmas tree, one of his nephews on his lap in another photo.

“You wanna take a shower? I’m feeling a little gross after being out all day.” He scratched his neck as he watched her, his stomach filled with nerves at the way she’d dismissed his comment about his sister liking her. He didn’t want to dwell on what that could possibly mean. Becca turned around and nodded at him with a smile, and just like that, his nerves were temporarily washed away.

“Yeah, a shower sounds good.” He held his hand out for her to take as he led her to his en-suite. Becca nodded in impressment at the luxurious state of his bathroom, having both a shower and a stand alone bathtub. “Sheesh, I might as well move in.”

“Feel free.” She giggled at what she thought was a joke, but Frankie meant it. She could intrude on his life anyway she wanted as long as she kept smiling at him like that.

Becca turned to look at him with a bitten grin, stepping closer to him until her hands were resting on his hips. Frankie’s smile had faded as she slid her hands over to the buttons on his shirt, starting from the bottom and working her way up. His eyes were locked to her grin as she finally unbuttoned it completely, her eyes meeting his as she slid the shirt off his shoulders.

He was completely enamored with every single thing she did, even the slightest move, even the slightest glance. It had been so long since he could feel his heart flutter this way inside his chest, but she made it happen as though it was nothing. He knew she had no idea how fond he was of her, and he really wanted to play it cool so that he didn’t scare her off, but all these little moments were beginning to add up quickly, with the only logical summation being that he was in love.

“I love your chest,” her breath fanned across his tanned and lightly freckled skin as she kissed his chest in three different places from one side to the other. Frankie let out a shaky breath at the physical contact, her touch made all the more pleasurable from the weed he smoked. Her fingers dipped into the waistline of his jeans so that she could unbutton them before lowering his zipper. Her hand grazed his clothed erection as she slid the zipper down, earning a soft, exhaled moan. Becca palmed him through his jeans after hearing what her touch did to him, grinning as she looked up into his eyes. “And I love this.”

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful.” He grabbed her face with both hands and pulled her to his lips, walking her backwards into the hot, running shower water without regard for their clothes.

Becca moaned as her back hit the cold stone wall of his shower, the oversized t-shirt she’d changed into now completely soaked and clinging to her form as he hoisted her up around his hips. She threw her arms over his shoulders and hugged him close, their lips never parting as he pushed his clothed erection against her center.

Frankie grabbed the hem of her t-shirt and peeled it off her body, letting it slap against the shower floor. He set her onto her feet so that he could peel off his jeans and underwear while she shimmied out of her now-see-through white thong.

The second the pair was fully nude, their bodies crashed together again, this time Frankie being the one pushed against the wall. He moaned when she kissed down his bearded jawline until she reached his throat, choosing to lick and lightly bite it since she couldn’t leave a mark. He dug his fingertips into the flesh of her waist as her lips moved lower and lower until they were kissing just underneath his bellybutton.

“Wait,” he stopped her as she tried to kiss the base of his shaft. “I probably need to shower if you’re going to do that.”

“Well, hand me the soap. I’m already down here.” Her grin made his own appear, only tearing his eyes away in order to find his body wash so that he could hand it to her. Becca licked her lips at the sight of his hard length dangling in front of her face, it’s girth and beauty never failing to make her mouth water.

Frankie watched with an open mouth as she squeezed some of the soap into her hand and lathered it in her palms before stroking his erection with both hands. His head constantly teetered between falling backwards against the cold stone wall due to the pleasure, and wanting to keep his eyes down so that he could watch the way she grinned with every twitch and moan he gave. For the time being, he kept his eyes locked with hers.

“You look so good like this,” she hummed as her hands moved lower to cup his balls, Frankie’s jaw opening wider as she massaged them gently. “I love making you feel good.”

“You do it well.” He smiled at her before she gripped his length again, the air getting knocked out of his lungs with the way her fists twisted in and up and down motion, one teasing the head while the other stroked the shaft.

Before he got a chance to verbalize what was about to happen, his release was spurting out, covering her chin and chest. His eyes went wide as he looked at her shock, immediately feeling like an asshole.

“I’m so sorry, cariño, I didn’t know I was there yet, it just sort of—“ He was cut off by her finger swiping through the mess, Becca grinning as she lifted it to her lips and sucked it clean. “Fuck me,” he sighed in pure awe.

Frankie lifted her to her feet and spun her around so that her chest was pressed against the cold tile, her ass poked out for him. He lowered to his knees and slid his tongue from one hole to the other, over and over until she was mewling loud enough to be heard over the running water. His hands spread her cheeks apart while Becca’s reached back to hold his head firmly against her.

“That feels so good,” she whined as his tongue began lapping at her clit from behind, his nose pressing into her entrance with every swipe. He hummed against her as he sucked the bud into his lips, her legs trembling as they held her weight. With a pop, he pulled off and stood up behind her, kissing up her spine until he reached her ear.

“Turn around, I want to see your face when I make you cum.” His words were nothing more than a whisper, but it would stay seared into her brain for a lifetime. She eagerly did as he asked, spinning around and wiping his release off her chin before crashing her lips with his. Frankie hummed at the leftover taste of himself on her lower lip and hoisted her up again, using one hand to guide himself into her heat slowly but surely.

He pulled away enough to be able to watch her face as he pressed inside, her jaw going more slack with each passing inch. Her eyes never left his as he withdrew himself before prodding inside again, the pleasure and pain his girth brought making her feel as though she’d died and gone to the most holy of hells or sinful of heavens.

“How is it that you can make me cum and I’m still hard as a rock for you? I always want more of you, baby. Can’t get enough.” He breathed out against her cheek as she began to rock her hips in rhythm with his, her lips forming a circle and her eyes lidded from the pleasure and weed. “Does it feel good, baby?”

“So good.” She sighed out with a shaky moan, her eyes dropping to look at the place where they were connected, a whimper leaving her lips at the sight of his length disappearing into her over and over again, her fingers sliding down to rub tight circles on her clit. “I’m going to cum, Frankie, fuck! Please don’t stop what you’re doing. It feels so good.”

“Where do you want me?” He asked as his eyes fought the urge to join her in looking down, determined to not miss a single moment of watching her face as she came undone for him.

“Inside,” she exhaled and shivered as she spoke the word, her eyes fluttering all the way closed and body going limp in his arms as she came undone for him. Frankie knew that he was done for the minute her lips pressed against his racing pulse, his cock seated deep inside of her as he came.

“Cariño, fuck, I…fuck” He breathed out as he recovered from his high, having caught himself from confessing something it was much too soon for.

After the pounding in his ears went away, he smiled at her, stroking his thumb across her cheek.

“Frankie,” Becca spoke softly and he closed his eyes, bathing in her softness a little longer underneath the heat of the running water. “You’re so…amazing.”

It had only been a week. One week of everyday together, one week of pure bliss, one week of complete secrecy. It was far too soon to give into his heart’s eagerness, he knew it deep down, but it grew harder and harder to keep those three little words at bay when she whispered his name like she did. “Frankie, look at me for a second.”

He did as she asked, his eyes soft as he lifted them to meet hers, internally panicking over whether or not she could read his mind. Becca smiled and stroked his cheek with her thumb, chuckling at his nervous state, the mounting feeling in her chest almost too much to handle.

“I’m so glad we met.”

Frankie’s eyes bounced across her features, memorizing her by heart in case this was a dream after all and when he wakes up, she’ll disappear. Pressing his lips to hers softly, he hummed against her.

“Me too, baby. You have no idea.”

frankie taglist: @joelmillerscoffee @ajeff855 @wildemaven @axshadows @sherala007 @browneyes-issac @tooflef @mariasabana @tae27 @kimm4710 @stxrrylunatic @sara-alonso @paulalikestuff @jbh-castaway @oceandolores @mandomover @chxpsi @auberosier @mashomasho @vanemando15 @wickedmunson @marvel-sw-lover @jediknight122 @harriedandharassed @star-wars-fan-2005 @alwaysdjarin @jalobro @trickstersp8 @mccn-bcys @manuymesut @trinkets01 @tanzthompson @jlmaddinson @hopeamarsu @fanofverymanythings @lovesbiggerthanpride @pinkything @fireproofmarta @littlenosoul @tryonmyworld @berriesarepunk @laureliciousdefinition @camishadjarin @rav3n-pascal22 @fishingforpike @rocketrhap3000 @amneris21 @lexloon (please let me know if you’d like to be removed/added to future frankie content!)

[xaeyrnofnbe]

here’s the general plot i have in mind for my ZTHAB (Zeros To Heroes And Beyond) au. (so far. think of this as a first draft)

because i’ve been meaning to get around to it. i’m organizing it by arcs bc that’s the best word i can think of off the top of my head for this. you could also think of them as chapters. or episodes. yeah 👍. also i do not intend to write this as an actual fanfic because every time i try to do something like that i lose so much steam and excitement for my idea.

characters will be prefixed with mana! or prime! at the beginning of a paragraph, so assume i am talking about that version until i explicitly mention the alternate version of them.

oh and important detail: albatrio are basically platonic soulmates. so keep that in mind.

this au is based on a single just roll what-if. i have had too much fun with this. well, me and @theblacktiecacti who has suggested SO many good ideas that i have since incorporated.

(also, even though this is an alternate universe where things play out wildly different, there are still a LOT of spoilers for the riptide campaign, so i wouldn’t recommend getting into this idea if you aren’t caught up. not really any spoilers for prime defenders though.)

anyway

ARC ONE

mana!gillion, after attacking mr. ferin, is hauled off by guards. but instead of being banished from the undersea no forced to swim to the surface, (like in canon riptide,) he is brought to a room with a portal, which activates, and he is pulled through. he then falls from the sky in the world of prime.

previously on the prime side of things, prime!chip and prime!jay meet for the first time. this happens in a police station in a very tall building. flying cars are present. chip has been arrested, jay works at the station but isn’t officially an officer yet. she just kinda gets to hang around and do the jobs bc of who her dad is. she questions chip, who is having none of it and highly suspects her of having powers, much like himself. she denies this. but when he teleports out of the building while she isn’t looking, to sit on a narrow ledge, jay impulsively flies out the window to go grab him, blah blah, “so you DO have powers,” he invites her to join his new team of superheroes. she accepts begrudgingly. it’s basically like their first meeting oneshot, just in a different context.

back on mana again, mana!chip and mana!jay are blowing up the navy tower on zero, but things don’t go exactly to plan. they barely make it to the big chipper before they’re captured by marshal john, and taken to a holding cell until jay’s dad arrives, and takes her away. this solidifies in her mind that her undercover pirate thing never would have worked out anyway. she decides her best option is to climb navy ranks until she can find and kill her sister’s murderer herself. and chip? he’s left for days, stewing in irritation and building up a heavy grudge in response to jay’s betrayal, and he escapes before he can be taken anywhere worse, and sets off on a stolen ship looking for some real pirates.

ARC TWO

mana!gillion wakes up on a kitchen counter in prime!chip’s little apartment. prime!jay is also there. gillion, at first, is disoriented and lashes out, but he’s quickly calmed down by his new companions, who are incredibly curious about whatever the hell this fish guy’s got going on. the two wannabe heroes catch their new friend up on where he is and what’s happening, (at least, as far as what they’re aware of; they won’t find out about his banishment for a long time.) at some point, it turns out chip’s been training some kid who also has powers, (ollie,) and thus, the oneshot what-if this is based off of, occurs. nothing comes of that, they still aren’t prime defenders.

mana!jay is, indeed, rising in the ranks. she’s becoming a formidable soldier. and mana!chip finds mana!lizzie, and joins her crew, the grandberry pirates, with the end goal of getting back at the navy and by extension, jay.

ARC THREE

in both dimensions, something isn’t right.

mana!gillion finds himself at home and at peace with his hero friends, but something isn’t quiet right. he’s like a puzzle piece that fits perfectly, and yet is from the wrong set entirely. additionally, there’s an individual, labeled a supervillain by the news, that’s been stirring up trouble in the very city the three friends live in, and gillion can’t help but find the mechsuit of this villain incredibly familiar. gill also gets some new clothes, and some more futuristic armor. pretzel keeps her hero mask.

mana!chip is falling into old patterns from his time with reuben price, and is becoming nearly as ruthless as his captain.

mana!jay talks to her friend, kira, who voices some concerns. jay brushes these off and continues training and barking orders at the people around her. but when she is faced with a portrait of her sister, she starts to wonder if this is worth it. she spends a lot of her time alone crying.

ARC FOUR

mana!chip and mana!jay meet for the first time since zero in a tavern on neutral soil. jay doesn’t think of her leaving chip as a betrayal, but he does. she talks to him like an old friend, even tries to invite him to join her in her cause. but chip is angry. his hurt bubbles and boils under his skin, manifesting in an off putting display of lava cracking between his skin around the edges of his face, and he attacks her. the two fight, and when jay inevitably beats chip, she spares him, but leaves knowing exactly what they have become*, and exactly what she needs to do about it**. (*arch enemies) (**kill or throw every single pirate in the deepest darkest prisons, including chip.)

mana!gillion and prime!chip and prime!jay attempt to stop the new villain that has finally become enough of a threat for heroes to be an adequate force of retaliation. the robotic figure is about fifteen feet tall, and greatly resembles gillion, with black, turquoise, and pink plates and pieces, like a full suit of armor. it is called The T1d3str1d3r, or The Tidstrider, or just The Strider. the names it is given are varied. it also has a pink, octopus-like robot that breaks free of it’s surface in order to join in on the fight.

at a certain point during the fight, the heroes are split up, and mana!gillion goes searching for his enemy in an alley, only to be met with a single glowing blue eye in the darkness, and a voice not unlike his own. this is where he properly meets the prime version of himself. when his foe steps out of the shadows, prime!gillian introduces himself. he’s working with a group of vigilantes, with the goal of doing good for the city, even if they have to do bad things to get there. but that’s not the whole of it, as prime!gillian is onto him. he knows that mana!gill isn’t meant to be on prime, he knows he’s from another world. and he’s barely able to finish his monologue before mana!gillion slams into him and they fight, now with prime!gill at much more of a disadvantage, having sent his mech off to fight prime!chip and jay.

ARC FIVE

after a few more, uh, incidents, the two gills come to a truce of sorts. they’re both the same person, kind of, so they’re kind of the only ones who Get It. and eventually, mana!gill takes prime!gill to meet with his friends properly, who much to his surprise, (and kind of disappointingly,) they really hit it off. mana!gillion isn’t sure why exactly he’s upset at this, but he suddenly feels like a fourth wheel to a friendship he had helped happen. and it doesn’t feel good.

eventually, though, prime!gillian takes his new allies to his secret base. (i have not decided what the secret base is yet.) they meet the prime versions of lizzie, (who keeps everyone on task,) caspian, (lizzie’s #1 supporter and enabler,) marshal john, (the muscle,) edyn, (here called eden, she’s an inventor and mechanic,) and finn, (resident weird old guy who’s really into biology, zoology, writing romance novels, helping his granddaughter with her tech, and, finally, the multiverse.) chip is incredibly excited to see lizzie, since they were really good childhood friends, and he hadn’t seen her since the black rose heroes all split up and retired. mana!gillion talks to prime!gillian and finn, and learns about what they’ve been doing (studying the multiverse and trying to steal the tech they need to travel between dimensions, without success,) why he shouldn’t be here, and why his home dimension needs him.

over on mana, mana!chip and mana!jay have gotten to the point where they command great numbers of their respective people, and have been sending letters back and forth in an attempt to negotiate territory and resources, to no avail. they’ve also both had some pretty wild makeovers.

ARC SIX

tensions are rising.

mana!gillion is feeling more and more distanced from his prime friends. he realizes just how alone he truly is. at the same time, prime!chip and prime!gillian are having a fight on a high rooftop, (mirroring riptide episode #15 but with a more angry-looking gill,) but they do work things out eventually, and the two have a tender moment looking out over the city lights. mana!gillion starts helping prime!finn seek out facilities to rob that might have the stuff they need to send gillion home. gillion doesn’t know where his morals and beliefs lie in a world so alien to him.

mana!chip and mana!jay are at war. at this point, they’ve had some sailing scuffles. but now they’re planning the big thing, a huge battle. jay is an admiral of the navy, and chip has command over all the pirates lizzie, his captain, has recruited to their cause. both have had family and friends feeding into their drives of vengeance, both, at this point, want the other dead. the location for the final battle between pirates and navy is set: a large island that used to be home to a bustling civilization, now mostly abandoned and overgrown. all that’s to be done now is to prepare the armies for the fight.

ARC SEVEN

prime!finn has warned mana!gillion of how dangerous it is to be away from who should have been his friends. neither have any idea of what’s actually happening on mana, but they have clues that it can’t be good. all gillion knows is that the people he’s SUPPOSED to be with, are in grave danger. and his friends on prime? they have their own gillian. they don’t need him. he feels unwanted. so he, accompanied by the grandberries as well as prime!chip and prime!jay, break into the place with the parts, beat up some guards or something, steal the things, and return to base so eden and finn can begin building the portal to mana.

unfortunately, the battle is beginning. pirate and navy ships gather on opposite sides of the island, countless people waiting for their leaders to send them out onto the soon-to-be battlefield.

ARC EIGHT

with the portal built and tested, (tested at least according to finn, when a lot of water came out,) mana!gillion steps through, and falls from the sky once more, this time into his homeworld.

it takes him a great deal of time, but eventually he finds out what’s happening, and realizes he has to move quick, or else he’d lose the two people he’s never met, and yet matter more to him than either of his whole worlds.

don’t ask how he gets there, idk, but when he arrives to the battlefield, the fight has gone on all day. the sun is setting, blood is seeping through the grass and dirt, and he lunges forth into the fray, parrying some blows and dodging others, in search of HIS chip and jay.

he finds them and uhhhh. stops them from killing eachother? yeah the ending is something i’m still very much unsure about. group healing arc is required though. yeah

again, this is a very rough first draft. in a more realized version of the story, there would be a villain, some actual subplots, a big conflict that is actually properly resolved on prime, and more stuff going on on mana. yeah 👍

[butchladymaria]

hello tumblr user Percyverance, since you asked me about the lore of Laika thrower of rocks, this peaked my curiosity about your hunter Oswin and i was wondering if you have anything else about their lore or just any other cool facts about them? 👀👀

greetings tumblr user skleech!!!! thank you for opening pandora’s box of autism 😌

oswin is loosely based off of the lone survivor background. i always loved the idea that it was an allusion to the fishing hamlet :)

they’re partially amphibious! they were only a few years old when their home was attacked, so the impact of fishy weirdness was fairly limited — but not zero. oswin still counts as kin.

obviously, this causes a lot of health problems: oswin assumes it’s a mix of asthma, amnesia, allergies, and a weird skin condition, but no doctor has been able to identify it.

when oswin first arrived in the dream, hunting was not even a possibility in their mind. they simply pretend they do not see it. eventually, though, they realized that in order to complete their research they would need to be able to defend themself.

ossy uses a cane — it helps them with balance and endurance. when they wound up in the dream, oswin used some of the workshop tools to better suit it to the hunt.

upon first talking to miss doll, oswin didn’t realize that they were actually a doll. it took an embarrassingly long time for that to dawn on them. they assumed she called herself ‘adol’ as if it were her name. (not their fault, oswin didn’t get dialogue captions lol)

oswin arrived in the dream already bearing insight thanks to their upbringing — meaning miss doll was their first interviewee. they quickly become very fond of their dreaming companion! maybe it’s their shared connection to eldritch tomfoolery. who knows!

[spiderman meme of miss doll and ossy pointing at each other] autism to autism communication

probably has read every book in the workshop library in hopes of finding further sources for their thesis. unfortunately, no one in yharnam has been enthusiastic to participate in their ethnographic research

so you can imagine that the few friendly civilians they come across are thoroughly interviewed! some are more willing than others.

the amygdala are decidedly less so, but oswin hopes they can be persuaded :)

while they can more-or-less instinctively understand the words of the great ones thanks to their kinhood, they don’t exactly have the facilities to talk back. this makes two-way communication challenging, but not impossible!

laika could throw rocks at them and i would support her in this endeavor. they're a little pathetic and it wouldn't even be hard :)

[chaengsdragon]

Hi everyone!

It feels like every time I make a post here, it's in between long periods of time with zero chapter updates. For that, I greatly apologize. Part II is still underway; I am trying my very best to write the best possible story I can, but it is taking a long time as I piece everything together (and you all know I tend to write a lot within single chapters, so be prepared!). I hope everything is worth the wait - the stakes are much higher, and there are some Twice members we'll definitely be seeing more of!

For now, here is a small snippet for Chapter 21: Hatchling

-

After December’s new moon, the following weeks passed by quickly, and soon, the winter holidays arrived.

It was the morning before Christmas Eve and students bustled about on the train platform with their small luggage cases as they prepared to board the Hogwarts Express and return home. Chatter and excitement filled the cold winter air. Everyone was looking forward to a much needed break, and Mina was no exception.

Mina could not wait to be with her family for the holidays. Although she loved school, her fifth-year studies and O.W.L. prep were quite tiring – plus, she had spent most of the term chasing after a stupid heirloom for a stupid dragon, and that turned out to be the biggest energy sucker of all. Mina was completely drained. She craved her home life: cooking with her mother, late night talks with her father, beating her older brother’s butt at the wizarding card game: Exploding Snap, and of course, cuddling with her beloved dog, Ray!

Geez, why couldn’t Chaeyoung have wanted a dog instead of a dragon?

The intrusive thought of Chaeyoung sent a jolt through Mina. Stop it! Mina bit her lip; over the last several days, the third-year had crossed her mind more often than she’d like to admit. She tried her best to push Chaeyoung out of her head. She drowned herself in readings and essays; she hung out with Jihyo and other prefects; she even made sure to run out of the Common Room the second Chaeyoung came into view. Anything to avoid a reminder of the younger girl.

“Thank goodness it’s over,” she muttered to herself.

“What’s over?” asked Jihyo as she approached Mina, causing the latter to yelp in surprise. The Gryffindor prefect had on a large parka jacket with a pair of earmuffs hanging around her neck; in her one hand was a small stylish purse and the in the other was a single bag of luggage.

“Uh . . . the term! Thank goodness, first term is over,” stammered Mina.

“Yeah. They weren’t kidding when they said fifth-year would kick your arse. I feel like I’ll have to spend my whole break revising to stay on top of my classes. Not to mention prefect duties. Whew. But by any means necessary to get into the Ministry, right?” Jihyo’s measured gaze fell upon Mina as if she was daring the Ravenclaw girl to answer otherwise.

“Of course,” squeaked Mina.

Jihyo studied Mina, and for a moment, she feared her friend would interrogate her about Chaeyoung yet again. But Jihyo just gave her a comforting pat on the shoulder. “Don’t stress yourself out too much over the holidays, Myoui. Remember this is supposed to be a break from school.”

Mina smiled weakly. “Thanks, you too, Park.”

[edgeofheavenshortnovel]

Chapter 1 - Unblanking

Paramedics and the police arrived swarming Andy and Patrice’s home in this upscale and exclusive subdivision. 

The chief of police found Andy curled up on their king-size bed in the master’s bedroom. He was quiet. He didn’t even flinch when the cop walked in. 

“Sir, may we have a word please?” Chief of Police Officer Ed Cho, sternly asked Andy. 

Although the Chief of Police Officer was a short and stout man with dark eyes and bushy eyebrows, not physical descriptions to be feared, he was very intimidating. He could look like a happy husband and a loving father when he was off from work, but he sure was daunting when he put his blue uniform on.

There had been rumors about him being a bad cop, planting drugs on suspects and framing his enemies, just to make an arrest and get his enemies off his back. 

Andy didn’t like him.

“Sir, we just wanted to get your statement regarding her death.”

“Okay,” Andy said weakly.

“We just want you to walk us through what happened and how you found her.”

“Okay… Uhm… Well, I arrived from work and she usually greets me the moment I walk into the front door, but she didn’t. So I went looking for her in the kitchen, but I didn’t find her there. I came here to the bedroom, but she was not here. So I went into that room and then I saw that she had hung herself.”

The chief police officer stared at him with a hint of incredulity on his face.

“Look, if you think I might have something to do with this, I don’t know how you come up with that. She took her own life. And if you will be incriminating me for her suicide, then I must speak to my lawyer first.” Andy hesitated.

“Did you find the suicide note?” the officer followed up quickly.

“No.”

“Then there is a reason why we need to question you at the station. You might want to call your lawyer now, we’re going to take your official statement. And meanwhile, stay out of that room. We wouldn’t want to disrupt any potential evidence for a potential crime.”

“I did not - fine. I will call my lawyer.”

Andy spoke to his lawyer, Atty. Alonso Yap, shortly after speaking to Cho for over half an hour. They made their way to the police station where Chief Police Officer Cho was posted.

After he had given his statement to the cops for more than three hours, he went home to the very home he found his dead fiancée in. 

Andy went into the bathroom to do his nightly routine hot shower. His mind was blank and he felt numb. 

He finished his bath and got changed into his night clothes and crawled into bed. 

“This can’t be real.” he sighed.

He rolled to his fiancée’s side of the bed and lit the lavender-scented candle on her side-bed table to feel her presence. 

Patrice had always done this when she was preparing to go to bed every night.

“How could you do this to yourself, Trizzy?” he caressed her pillow in hopes to hear her voice. In hopes that this is all nothing but a nightmare that he was about to wake up from and Patrice would be there sleeping next to him.

Andy just lay there for hours, unable to get any sleep. His mind was blank but at the same time in complete chaos. 

He was troubled by the thought that there was no suicide note. Or perhaps there was but Cho and his team were just trying to frame him so he could add him to his tally of arrests.

Andy took his phone for the first time since he called the emergency number and went to check his Instagram.

“Trizzy always leaves trails about her mood on her social media. Cryptic most of the time, but I can figure it out.” he thought to himself.

Patrice’s was the only account he followed on Instagram. He noticed that he was no longer following anyone on his account. Zero.

“Did she block me before she killed herself?” he wondered.

He then remembered that he and Patrice used to have a dummy account to catfish and play pranks on random people years ago. So he logged in to the account and searched Patrice’s handle on the search box. 

“No results found for pa3ssss”

“Then this must mean she deleted her account.”

He knew her login so he went on to log in to her account instead.

Error. It said the account did not exist.

“So she did delete her account.”

He went on to check all her other social media accounts. Twitter, Facebook, Snapchat, Discord, Twitch, Reddit - none. Even her Pinterest account no longer existed.

“And the police said they could not find her phone nor locate it at the moment,” he recalled.

He checked to see if her email still existed, and it did. 

The couple shared all their logins and passwords because Patrice always forgot her logins. He kept a list of the logins and passwords on his Notes app on his phone to keep track of all of them in case they needed them.

He went on his Notes app to look for her email login so he could try to get in. But this was set up to ask for a 2-Way Authentication from her phone number and her phone was missing. He could not get in. 

He hated the fact that the police had suspected him of foul play. He can afford to get her an autopsy to prove his innocence, anyway. Why should he not do that?

“No, they’ll cut her up just to prove she killed herself. That would do more disrespect to her death,” he continued to think.

He was so tempted to get into the writing room to look for clues. He knew well that she kept her journals in there. Did the police take them for evidence? There was only one way for Andy to find out.

He jumped out of his bed and strode toward the writing room.

He went in slowly making sure he does not disturb the police tapes around it, then he scuffled through the cabinet on the left wing of the room where she kept her notebooks.

He couldn’t find her journals. He most certainly knew what they looked like because, after all, he bought them for her every year. They were not there.

“She must’ve hidden them somewhere else,” he muttered.

He went through another cabinet, but he still could not find any of those notebooks. He went looking through every drawer and checked for compartments. None. 

“I wonder where she hid them,” he exhaled.

“Or did she get rid of them like how she got rid of her social media?” he started to wonder, also worried that the police must’ve gotten them when they were sweeping up the scene earlier that night. 

“If Trizzy’s suicide is going to put me in jail, damn her soul. I hope she rots in hell. She’s really managing to get on my nerves even in her death.” he felt an overwhelming resentment and anger toward his deceased fiancee. But at the same time, felt a pang of strong guilt that he could accuse her of something he is not even sure was her intention. 

He stood at the left corner of the room, right beside the shelf where Patrice kept all the children’s books she had written. 

He stared at the ceiling where she hung a few hours ago, and chills started to linger on his nape. 

Andy wasn’t superstitious. He did not believe in spirits or anything supernatural. He wasn’t even a believer in a higher being in the sky either. But at that moment, he felt a damning presence. He started to feel goosebumps running down his entire body. At least that’s how he was feeling at the moment.

He quickly walked out of the writing room and closed the door. He jumped right back to bed and forced himself to sleep.

But he couldn’t.

Every time he closed his eyes, he could see the scene of Patrice’s dead body hanging in the writing room.

He was overcome with fear and anger. He hated her for leaving him a problem. He hated that she had to leave him first in the most inconvenient way possible before he could. He hated her so much at that point, that he could not remember why he even fell in love with her in the first place.

“All you ever offered was an inconvenience since day one, Trizzy.” he cried out. 

“And now you just want to mess with me after all these years of always putting you above my needs!”

Andy sobbed hysterically.

The next thing he knew, he had fallen asleep and was awoken by his phone ringing. 

10:54 AM. 71 missed calls. 90 messages. And a whole bunch of social media notifications. 

“They probably just want to hear what I have to say about what happened to Trizzy.”

“And I’m very late for work.” he sighed. 

“I think they’ll understand if I don’t come to work today. My fiancée just died.” he thought as he stared at the bathroom door, hesitating to get out of his bed.

He didn’t bother reading the messages. He just didn’t feel like he wanted to talk to anybody.

He succumbed to his thoughts about Patrice once again.

Last night he was angry and he hated her. But today, he missed her.

He recalled the day they first met. 

She was a new hire in the same company where he worked. He was fortunate enough to have her be assigned the desk next to him.

He didn’t introduce himself at first. He was frustrated at his job because he always missed his quota. 

But then she turned to him and said, “Hi! I’m new here.” 

Her wide smile was brilliant, almost amusing that she seemed so happy to be in this wretched place.

“I can see that.” Andy returned. 

“Someone is grumpy,” she said in a mocking tone as she turned her seat back to her computer screen ignoring Andy.

He didn’t know if he had to feel bad about it, but he was intrigued by her energy.

“I’m sorry. I’m just tired, that’s all. My name is Andy.” he pushed his seat nearer to her desk.

“Andy? Almost sounds like ‘Angry’. Just like your mood and your entire vibe.” 

“Why is she so sarcastic?” Andy thought. 

“Is it your dream job to call people and sell them stuff that doesn’t work? Or are you just here because you desperately need a job?” Andy asked her in a joking manner. 

“The second one.” 

“That makes the two of us.”

“Oh really? What did you want to be before deciding to work here?”

“I wanted to be a rich model sipping on a pina colada in a yacht with three or four hot chicks around me.”

“You’ll get there.” she retorted.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name. What did you say your name was?” he shifted his posture to lean toward her.

“I didn’t tell you my name. But I’m Patrice. But everyone calls me Patty or Pat.”

“Then I am not calling you Patty or Pat. I will be calling you Trice or Trizzy.” his mouth arched upwards to a grin.

“No, you won’t.”

“Oh, yes I will.” And then he leaned back in his chair, pushed back to his desk, and returned to work.

A month went by, and they both easily got along. Andy was not making sales still, Patrice was getting the hang of the job, and they both became work friends. 

Andy’s mood towards coming to work was a lot better now. He felt a little better about his job now that there is someone he can joke around with and hang around with within the office.

He lived up to calling her Trizzy and she often got annoyed and ignored him every time he called her Trizzy. But soon, she got around to the nickname he had given her and just gave in.

Little did Andy know that he was slowly developing strong feelings toward Patrice.

The phone rang again. 

Andy saw it was a call from Patrice’s mother. He didn’t want to deal with her family yet. He was still trying to process everything for himself.

In the afternoon, Andy headed out to the mortuary to see Patrice. Her parents were already there. 

Her mother, Roselyn was crying uncontrollably. Her father, Harold, was consoling his wife while he sobbed on her shoulder. Her younger sister, Kate, was also there. She cried quietly as she watched her parents hugging each other. The only one who was not there was her older sister, Stacey. She’s currently in Singapore on a trip with her husband.

Andy stopped his pace and watched her family mourning the loss of their precious daughter and sister. 

He couldn’t face them. After his thoughts of wanting to break up with Patrice the night before, he felt this heavy guilt throbbing in his chest.

He turned around and went straight back to his car.

He felt numb again. 

He was overwhelmed by the sight of Patrice’s family. He couldn’t watch the scene for one more minute. He could never face them - not because he was guilty of causing her death, but because he failed to identify whatever caused her to take her own life beforehand. 

He was supposed to know. She was supposed to tell him things like this. He was supposed to listen and support her. But he felt that he was too busy and selfish to even give a thought about what could have been going on with her while he wasn’t around.

He should have been able to spot the slightest change in her demeanor. But he was too overwhelmed by his feelings of dissatisfaction with the relationship.

He went straight back home and planned to leave the country. He didn’t want to deal with any of this right now. He wanted to mourn the loss of his fiancee but not in an emotional territory with the rest of her friends and family. He wanted to be alone.

“Maybe I’ll go to Ireland. Trizzy always wanted to visit Dublin. I can mourn her there.” he said to himself.

“And maybe I should contact Atty. Yap first, so I would not look too suspicious for deciding to leave the country for a while.” he continued to think out loud.

He sat on his bed and turned his head toward the writing room’s door. 

“I must find her journals.”

Andy shifted and rested his head on the pillow. 

He thought, “She should’ve told me what was going on in that pretty little head of hers. She never showed any signs. She never said anything. The answer must be in her journals…”

Andy’s thoughts slowly flooded with different possibilities of why his fiancée could have taken her life.

Was it something that he had done in the past that hurt her? Was it a family problem? Did she have some sort of mental health issues he didn’t know about? Did something happen with her publishing deal and her career?

His mind swiveled to darkness. He had fallen asleep.

[dicloniusgames]

The Pipe Bomb #25: The Claustrophobia Of The Open World

Open-world games have been prevalent throughout the gaming industry since the arrival of GTA 3 that they became commonplace over the last couple decades. 

What if I said open-world games could make you feel virtually claustrophobic? For me, it’s very real. Now I don’t mean actual claustrophobia because that’d make no sense but a form of claustrophobia to where you don’t want to finish the activities in the open world and just get through the story as fast as possible. While not all open-world games suffer from this, there are some I’ve played that either threw on too much at once or over time became too much content to try and tackle to a point where finishing the story was the end goal and not going for 100% completion. 

A few of these come to mind. 

First is a game I’ve recently finished...that being Hogwarts Legacy. At first I didn’t mind that you got to explore not only the entire castle, but Hogsmeade, the Forbidden Forest and other parts known to the Harry Potter universe. Being able to play as your own created student is something I enjoyed as well as having zero tie ins to the films as the game takes place before the films. You’re sorted into one of the four houses (for my playthrough it was Slytherin) and you go on an adventure to uncover a mystery while making friends along the way and learning new spells. 

While I think this game is good, it suffers from the vast amount of open-world content that it contains and there’s a lot to do along with the student relationship side quests like Natty and Sebastian. This is the basis for this essay that there needs to be a perfect balance of side activities vs. how large the map is. At first I was doing some of the side activities, side missions and going for the collectibles until the map became cluttered with it to the point where I stopped going for everything and just focused on the story. 

All of the examples I’ll point out will prove open-world burnout is a real thing and game devs need to find that perfect balance. There’s having an abundance to do and having jack to do in an open world. Games like entries in the Assassin’s Creed series balance this equation out equally as well as the Arkham games. 

The second example to take a look at is the Far Cry series (mainly after 3) but focusing on Far Cry 6. With the exception of Far Cry Primal, which I oddly enjoyed for the setting and gameplay of the game, after Primal, my enjoyment of the Far Cry games waned a lot especially after 5. My enjoyment tanked to absolute zero after playing 6. Far Cry 6 suffers some of the same issues with the open-world equation that Hogwarts Legacy does but turns into a bore fest quickly as you feel you’re doing the same thing, but only in different parts of the map with the goal of taking down Anton Castillo’s empire. The differential issue here is that there’s no variance of activities within each district of the map. Far Cry 6 feels like the Just Cause games as you’re destroying things and infiltrating bases and you come to the same conclusion of skipping a good majority of the side content to get through the story which I was able to. The story was good, but having so much to do on such a large map in Far Cry 6 is demanding. 

The final example (and sadly one I couldn’t bring myself to finish) is Assassin’s Creed Valhalla. Remember when I said the Assassin’s Creed games had good balance of open-world activities vs. map size? Valhalla destroys this equation with a nuke. 

With Valhalla, the maps are large and the activities are about as abundant as PS5′s in scalpers’ dens. Previous entries like Syndicate, Origins, and Black Flag had a balance of activities on their maps to where it had a fair balance. Valhalla’s maps just throw the Encyclopedia Britannica at you when it comes to activities to a point where you’re overwhelmed from the very start. It makes Valhalla (if you’re a completionist) almost impossible to do without an extreme time sink. I stopped playing this twice for the same reason of open-world burnout from the AC series. 

You’ll probably stop to conclude that I hate open-world games....I don’t actually. I just don’t like ones that don’t have an equal balance of activities vs. how large the map is. Maybe that’s why I prefer the PS2 GTA games because their maps weren’t seen as large compared to today’s standards of open-world games. 

The other question being, will I go back to 100% some of the open-world games I never finished? Possibly. For me it not only depends on the game but also if there are other releases that take precedent over having down time to play what I want. 

In conclusion, open-world games are good, but should also be played at a steady pace and mixed in with other games to avoid burnout from trying to do everything all at once. 

[whoacanada]

(Hey, look! That Zimbits AU where Jack goes into PR after retiring from the NHL and NHL!Bitty comes looking for advice about coming out!)

“Your ten-o-clock, remember?” April gestures to the conference room with her pen. “The cutie the Hurricanes coughed up for Pride Night outreach? He’s here.”

Jack tugs down the blinds with a cautious finger and zeroes in on the handsome blonde sitting awkwardly at one end of their large conference table, conspicuously alone. “There’s always suits for outreach talks,” Jack hazards, looking back at his receptionist over his shoulder. “They never send players alone.”

“It’s what we’ve got on the books. Eric Bittle, Carolina Hurricanes. No plus ones.” April whispers, checking her calendar. “Well? Get in there, Boss; and buckle up, he’s got an accent.”

.

Eric Bittle looks up, his dark brown eyes wide and unfairly attractive as Jack extends his hand, Bittle rising to take it. Everything about Bittle is polished and perfected; suit tailored, hair coiffed so neatly Jack would posit he’d gone in to have it trimmed before he’d arrived this morning. He’s pulled together so tightly, in fact, that Jack can’t find any loose threads, and if he remembers his time in The Show correctly, no loose threads means Mr. Bittle’s probably hiding something.

“Eric? I’m Jack Zimmermann. It’s great to meet you.”

“Oh, I know who you are,” Bittle chuckles, and Jack’s heart would skip a beat if he wasn’t so certain there’s a huge piece of context still missing from this meeting. “It’s still very nice to meet you in person.”

“So, tell me about Pride Night,” Jack pops the button on his suit jacket and settles down across the table. “What, exactly are the ‘Canes thinking about doing that involves you coming to see us?”

Bittle bites his lip briefly, gaze darting off before coming back to settle on Jack, and Jack is reminded of so many media training sessions it’s like he’s back in Vegas again.

“I may have, ah, fudged the reason for my visit a bit. Yes, we have Pride Night coming up, yes I’m the designated sacrifice, but I’m more here on personal business.”

Jack eases the tip of his pen from the legal pad, recognizing an off-the-record admission is coming. “How personal?” He questions. “Are we talking potential legal trouble or just potential social trouble? Or no trouble at all.”

“I’m gay.” Bittle says plainly. “Whatever trouble that may be. My team knows it, my family knows it, and I want to come out — I need to come out — and I can’t mess it up.”

Jack is grateful for his game face, reaching for the coffee carafe near him to couch his surprise and no small measure of his excitement. “Oh, you mean like I did?” Jack jokes, earning a soft smile.

“No active player has come out since you retired,” Eric skirts Jack’s comment, taking the mug before gingerly amending, “Not voluntarily, at least. I’d like to break that streak. Given your experience, and what you do now, it seemed like the smart move to come speak with you.”

“Well, I’ll be the first to admit my behavior didn’t lend itself to much confidence with the public at large, but that’s why I’m where I am today. Making sure people like you can learn from my mistakes.”

“And you made a lot of mistakes,” Bittle murmurs, taking the mug from Jack gingerly, glances back out the window as he takes a sip, and Jack fights a smile when he realizes what’s happening.

“Are you . . . chirping me?”

“Makes me less nervous,” Bittle admits, apologetic. “But that was rude, I’m sorry.”

Bittle’s eyes are bright. His smile is bright. Everything about him is warm, inviting. Jack might be biased, though, he’s always had a soft spot for compact blondes.

“Don’t apologize.” Jack leans back in his chair, feeling lighter than he has in weeks. “You might be the only one in the whole league right now that doesn’t need to apologize.”

“I think I need to have a partner,” Eric clears his throat. “I can’t come out without a reason, otherwise what’s the point.”

“That answers one of my first questions, gives us a place to start. Yes, a boyfriend gets you points, but not in the way you’re thinking. If you come out with a guy on your arm, the story becomes maintaining the relationship, not that you have one or that you are ‘out’ at all. The scandal is the relationship falling apart, or you flirting with a fan when you have your partner at home, that kind of drama.”

“And if I just say, ‘hello, I am a homosexual’ people will think I’m promiscuous, or just trying to get laid.”

“Maybe. Are you?”

Bittle’s expression turns indignant, lips twisting into a judgmental frown that reminds Jack of his grandmother before a scolding.

“What kind of question is that? Yes, of course, but they don’t need to know that. But that doesn’t — You know, you gave me hope?”

Jack doesn’t quite startle, he’s well beyond the jumpyness of his youth, but he has no clue where this conversation is about to go.

“When you came out, when you were drafted, your cup season . . . every time you succeeded, beat the odds, it made me think, maybe, I could do it, too. I could be a professional athlete, I could play hockey, and it didn’t matter who I wanted to be with.”

Jack knows there’s a ‘but’ coming, he can feel it; so he gets there first.

“But . . . then I overdosed.”

“Then you retired.” Eric corrects. “Two years before I signed with Carolina, and you just gave up. I was going to be the first out NCAA men’s hockey captain, you ‘retired’ in scandal, and suddenly the trustees didn’t want the attention. Back to square one.”

“Eric, I wasn’t well.” Jack defends gently, knowing Bittle isn’t trying to be cruel.

“You let them get to you! You were supposed to be untouchable. I needed you to be untouchable.”

“Eric.”

“I’m sorry,” Bittle looks down at his hands, the table, anywhere but Jack. “I genuinely didn’t intend for any of this to come up so quickly, you’ve been nothing but charming and here I am dumping all my baggage on you like we’ve been talking for years . . . ”

“It’s actually alright. I’ve made peace with what happened to me, what I put myself through, and I wasn’t kidding that I’m very intent on making sure I can help others avoid the same pitfalls. So, what do you need from me right now?” Jack asks, genuinely curious. “An apology? A hug? You wouldn’t be the first to ask.”

“I want . . .” Bittle huffs, closing his eyes and evening his breathing. “I want dinner.”

“I’m sorry?”

“I’ve loved the idea of you since I was sixteen, but now I actually need your advice on how to do this without losing my mind, and I can’t plan my future from a boardroom, so, I want you to take me to dinner. I want to hash this out like two normal, well functioning adult men. Also, maybe alcohol.”

“Speak for yourself on the well-functioning part,” Jack chirps himself, “but I think dinner can be arranged. I assure you, you’ll have my full support moving forward. The firm’s, as well.”

Bittle’s lips quirk, holding Jack’s gaze. He caught the slip, and now there’s nothing to do but own it. They lapse into a gentle silence. Jack sipping his coffee, Bittle doing the same. Jack isn’t sure what he’s waiting for, the puck is at the end of his stick. He flashes a smile. Bittle blushes.

“So,” Jack begins. “Do you like Burmese?”

____

They part ways and April’s eyes are huge with suspicion. “Should we discuss fees?” she asks. “Do we need to start billing? Sounds like it went well.”

“Nah, we’ll talk later about payment,” Jack replies, folding his jacket over his arm, hiding the slip of paper with Bittle’s personal number and trying not to stare as the forward walks away. “I have a strong feeling I might be handling this pro bono.”

[h0tchner]

Any Age, Any Day, Anywhere (Part 1) - aaron hotchner x fem!reader

pairing: aaron hotchner x fem!reader

summary: WRITTEN FOR AN ANON REQUEST: "ok hi so u already wrote a jealous reader and was wondering whats your take on jealous hotch? i mostly see him in fics as possessive and yeah being the leader type i would think he could also be possessive but i also think that he would just be sad like ya know he doubts himself as we saw in some episodes and i think he would need assurance and a lot of convincing that u only love him but if you’ve given that to him then thats the time he would be possessive and god i would love to imagine a possessive and feral aaron hotchner"

word count: 3.5k

includes: kissing, so much freaking adorable fluff, talk of body insecurities, insecure!hotch, protective!hotch, wifey reader, super brief mentions of pregnancy, alcohol, confrontation with a drunk asshole (derek & hotch are all over it tho dw), party at papa rossi's!, smut to come in next chapter...

rating: 18+ (technically there is no smut in this part, but there are adult themes such as drinking, kissing, etc.).

a/n: HELLO BESTIES! This is part one of a two-part fic! The next part will be pure filth, so keep your eyes peeled for some feral hotch content... ALSO! PLS (!!!!!!!!!!!) interact if you liked this, rb, comment, like and/or send me a request if you have ideas for future fics! i love y’all! - rivka💞

“Aaron! Can you come here for a sec?” you call out to your husband from the bathroom, muttering curses under your breath as you try (and fail) for the third time to zip up the back of your black cocktail dress.

“Sure, I just need a minute,” he replies from the bedroom closet, securing the last opalescent button on the arm of his white dress shirt. He looks at himself in the closet mirror, zeroing in at the bags under his eyes and the sprinkling of grey in his stubble. He looks… tired. Tired and old. And he hates it.

Even though Aaron is only in his late-40s, he has lived lifetimes; years of working as Unit Chief of the BAU will do that to a man. Every horror he’s seen and every person he’s lost has weighed on his body and mind. In the past few months, amidst work changes and a new baby, he’s been exhausted and in fear that he’s letting himself go. Of course, being the stoic man that he is, he’s done his absolute best to hide these feelings from you. Tonight, however, he doesn’t know if he can. It’ll be your first night out together as a couple since welcoming baby girl Hotchner to the family four months ago. With no pressing family or work distractions, he just knows that you’ll be able to sense his apprehensions. It’s only a matter of when.

Taking in a breath, he turns a little to the side, frowning at his profile. Aaron winces a little at his “dad bod,” but quickly recovers from the discomfort, milliseconds after it flashes across his face.

“Aaron Hotchner get your handsome butt in here and help me zip my dress! We’re gonna be late,” you exclaim, trying one last time to reach the zipper before giving up and crossing your arms in defeat. You lean back lightly against the countertop facing the door, letting the fabric slip off your shoulders, and wait for your husband to rescue you from the hell that is this dress.

At the sound of your voice, Aaron snaps out of his trance. He shakes his head lightly, as if to physically erase the intrusive thoughts, and clears his throat. Grabbing his suit jacket off the hanger, he flicks off the closet light and closes the door behind him.

Languidly, he meanders from the closet toward the bathroom. He drags his feet a little longer than he normally would, still feeling off and a little bit shy about his appearance.

“Aaron,” you sing, “I’m waiting for –,” your jaw drops mid-sentence when Aaron appears in the doorway.

“Oh fuck,” you breathe out before you can stop yourself, eyes widening at the sight of the gorgeous man in front of you.

“What’s wrong?” He asks, crossing over to you, searching your face for any ounce of reprieve.

“Nothing, nothing’s wrong,” you’re quick to reply, standing from your leaning position to meet him, holding out your hands.

He takes them in his own, cocking his head slightly, his soft hazel eyes boring into yours.

You shift forward, moving up on your toes to peck his soft pink lips.

He sighs into the kiss, feeling the warmth of your lips against his own. It feels so good that it almost makes him forget about how he is feeling… almost. But the dark thoughts come back, and he pulls away from you a bit, reluctantly.

Aaron clears his throat.

“You called me?” He questions, but it sounds more like a fact.

“Yeah,” you give his hands a squeeze. “I needed you to zip up my dress, but now,” you lean in again, “I kinda want you to rip it off me.” You offer him a sultry smirk, moving your hands up to rest on his broad chest. He moves his hands to settle on your hips.

You lick your lips and let your eyes rake over his body, taking in every ounce of his sexy frame. The way his crisp, white dress shirt hugs his solid body makes you go weak in the knees. His strong, toned legs in those black dress pants? Yes please. His soft black hair and salt and pepper stubble on his face are practically begging to be touched. He looks good. Damn good.

“You look…” you pause, tapping a finger lightly against his pectoral, searching for the right word, “…delicious.”

Aaron blushes lightly at your ogling, offering you a sad smile as he squeezes his eyes shut out of embarrassment.

You sense the falter in his demeanor, knowing that there’s something else nagging at him far beyond his usual flustering when you vocalize your attraction to him.

“Honey,” you implore, looping your hands around his neck to bring his forehead down to touch yours. “What’s going on in that big, beautiful brain of yours?”

“It’s nothing,” he mutters, swallowing, rubbing soft circles into your sides.

“It’s something,” you counter, carding a hand through his hair at the nape of his neck. You scratch lightly at his scalp, waiting for him to speak. You’ve learned that the best thing to do when Aaron gets in a mood is to give him some time to gather his thoughts. Keeping him close, physically, is a way to show him some comfort without pressuring him to speak. It encourages him, without words, that your arms are a safe place.

“I don’t…” he starts, and then stops himself. His dark eyebrows furrow and his mouth presses into a thin line.

“Mhm?” you question, fingers still tangled in his thick, black locks.

He pulls his forehead away from yours and locks eyes with you. You let your hands be still now, a silent gesture to show him that you’re listening.

He takes in a breath.

“I don’t look the way I used to,” he says quietly, shifting his eyes away from yours.

“What do you mean,” you urge him to continue.

“I mean, I don’t look like I did five years ago. Two years ago. Four months ago. I mean, I was practically a different man when we first met. I was younger, fitter…” he trails off, visibly upset.

“Yes, Aaron, you were,” you agree, keeping your tone temperate.

His eyes snap to yours, confused. It’s clear that was not what he was expecting you to say.

“You were a different man,” you continue gently, resuming your pacifying touch in his hair, “and I was a different woman.”

Aaron lets out a huff.

“Do you love me any less now than you did five years ago?” You ask him.

“Of course not,” he’s quick to answer.

“Why is that?” You prod.

“You’re gorgeous, inside and out. You’re funny, smart, loving…” he begins, but you interrupt him before he can go on.

“And,” you butt in, “if I were to go completely grey, gain thirty pounds, and only wear a potato sack to work every day would you love me any less?”

Aaron huffs again, but this time he’s fighting a smile. He’s starting to catch on. You watch as a spark of levity returns to his eyes. He holds you a little tighter.

“No. There’s nothing you could do or say to make me love you any less,” he grumbles in annoyance, but his upturned lip and matching eyebrow tell a different story.

“Ditto, baby,” you smile up at him. “I love you at any age, any day, anywhere, and there is nothing in the world that can make me change my mind.”

He dips down then, capturing you in a kiss, grinning against your lips.

You giggle as Aaron works his way down your jawline and neck, gasping as he kisses the soft skin at the junction of your neck and shoulder, thick fingers gripping the sides of your hips. He moves his lips back up to your earlobe, nipping at it lightly as you let out another soft gasp.

“You always know the right thing to say,” he whispers into your ear, pressing another kiss right underneath it.

“Aaron, I know I said I wanted you to take this dress off me,” you say breathlessly as Aaron nips at your shoulder again, “but Rossi will kill us if we don’t show up tonight. Plus, I really want the chance to show off my super sexy FBI husband. It’s been far too long.”

He lets out a low groan into your skin and gives your hips a squeeze, nuzzling his head into your neck.

“Yeah,” he mumbles, “you’re right.”

“Aren’t I always,” you snort, eliciting a chuckle from your husband as you turn around in his arms to let him zip you up.

He takes his time, letting his fingers brush lightly over your spine as he draws the zipper over your back. When he’s done and the clasp is latched, he kisses one shoulder lightly, and then the other.

“Thank you,” you whisper, leaning back against his warm body.

“No, honey,” he kisses the top of your head, “thank you.”

_____________________________________________________________

By the time you and Aaron arrive at Rossi’s mansion, the party is already in full swing. Judging by the number of cars in the makeshift parking lot on his spacious front lawn, there must be at least fifty, maybe even a hundred people here.

Despite the bustle of the evening, it doesn’t take long for you two to find Emily, Penelope, and Derek in the living room, drinks in hand, snacking on some very expensive looking food.

“Hey, look! It’s the Hotchners!” Emily cheers, teetering on the arm of the leather couch, wine glass in hand.

“Hello beautiful BAU power-couple!” Penelope chimes in from the seat next to her, cuddled up into Derek’s side.

You laugh and let go of Aaron’s hand, walking over to greet your friends.

“Hey hot stuff, look at you, look at you!” Derek chimes in, eyeing you up and down before standing to shake Aaron’s hand.

“Oh, please,” you roll your eyes at him as you give Emily a big hug.

“And you don’t look bad yourself, boss man!” Derek adds.

You shoot your husband an ‘I told you so’ look over your shoulder, before untangling your arms from Emily and giving Penelope an equally enthusiastic squeeze.

“It’s good to see you all,” Aaron smiles lightly, all dimples in the low light. He steps in to give Emily and Penelope soft hugs.

“Let’s go get you a drink,” Derek says to Aaron, clapping him on the back.

“White?” Aaron looks to you, even though he already knows the answer.

“Yes please,” you respond, “thank you.”

“Be back soon,” he smiles easily, kissing your cheek, making your heart ache.

Aaron and Derek turn and exit the room together.

Penelope drunkenly pats the seat next to her, and you plop down on the couch.

“We’ve missed you like this!” Emily exclaims, gesturing between the three of you and around the room. “I can’t believe we’ve had to wait nine whole months plusanother four just to have a drink with our best friend again.”

You laugh at her, tilting your head back lightly. “Well, you guys got a beautiful little niece out of it, doesn’t that make up for all the wild girl’s nights I missed?”

Emily sighs, dramatically, “I guess so,” she jests.

“Oh, for sure.” Penelope adds. “You look freaking gorgeous, by the way. I mean, I would have never guessed you were creating a tiny human in that body only a few months ago!”

You blush lightly at her words, “You flatter me far too much, Pen. I owe this,” you gesture down at your figure, “all to Spanx!”

“Amen!” Emily toasts. You raise an imaginary glass to theirs and pretend to clink, taking a swig of invisible liquid.

“Are J.J. and Will here?” You ask them after they’ve had a few more sips of their wine.

“Yeah, yeah,” Emily nods, “they’re around somewhere.”

You take a moment and look around the room, taking in all the sights and the sounds of the party. You see some faces you recognize from around the bureau, but others you don’t. Just as you’re about to turn back to your friends, someone catches your eye. One face stands out from the crowd: he’s a young, suave-looking man in a sharp navy suit. Sandy hair perfectly gelled, shiny brown loafers, and bright blue eyes looking right at you. In another life you would have been exhilarated by his attention, apparent charm, and good looks, but now? Now, you’re married to the love of your life with an amazing stepson and a wonderful baby girl. His wolfish gaze means absolutely nothing to you. You simply flash him a curt smile and turn back to Emily and Penelope without a second thought.

You and your friends resume your chatter, waiting for the men to return with more drinks... only they don’t. Perhaps its “new mother anxiety” talking, but the longer your husband is gone, the more you start to grow concerned. A few more minutes pass of antics, laughter, and catching up until the nagging voice in the back of your head turns into an all-out scream. All you know is that you’re suddenly feeling very overwhelmed need to be with Aaron. So, you announce to your friends that you’re going to hunt down Derek and your husband.

You stand from the couch and smooth out the skirt of your dress with the promise to be back in a few minutes.

You walk out of the living room and into the grand foyer, following the same route as Aaron had earlier. Your black kitten heels click on the marble flooring, the skirt of your dress swishing lightly as you walk with purpose towards the kitchen. You’re so concentrated on reaching your destination that you don’t realize the man who had been watching you in the living room was now hot at your heels, following you through the house. It’s only when a hand reaches out and jerks your arm backward that you stop, startled, just past the grand staircase, turning face to face with him.

“You’re not an easy woman to get alone,” he smirks, reeking of alcohol, still gripping your arm, tight. Up close he is decidedly not as handsome as the low light of the living room made him seem. In fact, he seems… creepy. Really, really, really, creepy.

“Can I help you?” You blink at him, pulling your arm out of his vice grip.

“You sure can, baby,” he steps closer to you, voice oozing with sleaze. You gag at the liquor on his breath.

Moving away, you scowl at him, crossing your arms across your chest.

“What’s say you and I head upstairs for a little while? I’m dying to get my hands on your body.” He jerks his head toward the staircase, reaching out to grab your arm again.

You’re fuming at this point, ready give him a piece of your mind when a stern voice beats you to it.

“Excuse me, what do you think you’re doing?” Aaron articulates, approaching you both with Derek not far behind.

You breathe a sigh of relief as your husband glares at the drunken man vengefully, coming to stand by your side. Aaron pulls you into him, roughly, hand tight around your waist. The anger radiating off your husband is equally terrifying and HOT.

“Take a walk, man,” Derek adds in, coming to stand next to the drunken asshole. The man looks from you, to Aaron, then over to Derek, and finally back at you.

“Whatever,” the man grumbles, putting his hands up, “she’s not worth it anyway. Not pretty enough for the hassle. I just thought she looked like an easy lay.”

“That’s enough,” Aaron snaps, seething. “Leave now, before I make you,” your husband growls. He angles his body forward so you’re slightly behind him. A shiver passes through you at his fierce protectiveness.

“Fine, I’m going to get another drink,” the man utters.

“No,” Aaron interjects, “the party. Leave the party or I’ll have you removed.”

“What’s your problem?” The creepy man retorts, this time, more confrontationally.

“My problem?” Aaron says, angrily. You feel his entire body tense at the accusation.

“Hotch,” Derek warns, “I’ll take care of it. You guys go enjoy yourselves. Forget about him.”

“Come on, Aaron,” you tug on his suit jacket lightly, eyes pleading… but Aaron doesn’t budge from his spot. He only holds you tighter as he continues to stare down the man as Derek ushers him away and towards the front door. He doesn’t falter until they are out of sight.

“Aaron?” You repeat.

He looks down at you, finally, blinking away the fury until all that’s left is an all-consuming love. He releases you from his protective hold, and you face him.

“I’m okay,” you assure him in earnest, letting out a shaky breath.

“Honey, I’m so sorry,” he breathes, bringing his hands up to cup your face.

“Aaron, it’s okay, really,” you bite your lip, shifting your eyes away from his.

“You’re so beautiful,” Aaron kisses your forehead, and then the top of your head. “So, so beautiful, and I’m so sorry.”

“Aaron, can we just go home?” You ask.

“Sure,” he kisses your head one last time before weaving his fingers between yours and guiding you gently toward the back exit.

_____________________________________________________________

The car ride home is quiet. The only sounds are the occasional click of the turn signal, and the hum of the wheels on the road. Aaron is still upset, and so are you, but you’re also… something else. Something you can’t quite put your finger on. You feel guilty for ruining the evening, guilty that you FEEL guilty for something you had no control over, hungry, tired, and… horny? Oh, and guilty for feeling horny.

It isn’t helping that one of Aaron’s hands is planted firmly on your thigh. He lifts it only to adjust the air conditioning or to scratch his nose, but otherwise it remains on you the whole way home. When he pulls into the driveway of your shared house, and shuts the car off, he still doesn’t move it.

“Honey?” You turn your head to look at him. His eyes are closed. You take in the strong features of his profile, noting the prominence of his nose and the way his eyelashes rest on his high cheekbones.

“I almost punched him.” Aaron whispers, opening his eyes to look over at you sheepishly.

“You what,” you exhale, mouth slightly agape.

“That guy,” he continues, bringing his left hand up to pinch his nose. “I almost punched him for saying that about you.”

You snort, amused by his confession.

Your husband lets out a short laugh, squeezing your thigh as he does.

“I would’ve liked to see that.” You’re grinning now and so is he.

He flashes his eyes at you and laughs again, this time less anxiously. You join him, feeling the tension dissipate with every passing moment.

“My big, bad FBI man decking a barely-legal drunk dickhead for making a move on his wife? Where can I get my tickets?” You joke.

As you say the words “his wife,” Aaron’s breath hitches in his throat. His hand on your thigh presses down instinctively. Neither of his reactions go unnoticed.

You lay a hand over his where it rests on your leg.

“You know, Aaron,” you begin.

He looks over at you, jaw tight, but this time it isn’t from anger.

“This is the first time we’ve had the house all to ourselves in months,” you pull his hand off you and bring it up to your lips. You press a kiss to his palm, and then to his wrist.

“This… is true,” he breathes out, studying you, taking you in.

“So, I’m just wondering:” you grin, linking your fingers with his, “are you going to carry your wife into our house, Aaron? Or do I have to walk myself?”

[michiieewrites]

THORST COLLAB: Bakugou - Starving till I tasted you

A/N: First: IF YOU’RE UNDER 18, BEGONE FROM MY BLOG SINCE I WRITE MATURE CONTENT!! This one has been sitting in my documents for almost 2 months now. This week inspiration finally struck me once again tho!

This fic is actually a Thorst Collab between my lovely friends & I on Discord. I’m the first one to post mine, so I can’t wait to see what the others will write!

Now.

STRAP ON YOUR SEATBELTS CAUSE THIS MOTHERF!@#$%CKER IS 4.2K+ WORDS LONG

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

If someone told you a year ago that you would have enough money to pay off your student debt, buy your dream apartment, help out your family and friends, move abroad and drive in a ’67 Chevrolet Impala, you would’ve died laughing at the joke.

You told yourself it was stupid, buying that lottery ticket. But here you are; $100.000.000,- on your bank account. A young and now rich Omega in her prime. After making sure you had spend part of it wisely, you made sure to live the rest of your life on interest alone.

The first month had been nice. Decorating your new place, going out for dinner every day, getting a new wardrobe, spoiling yourself silly. You got new nesting materials, softer blankets and bigger pillows. It felt nice. Until it didn’t anymore. It started to feel pointless and empty. You felt like you were becoming one of those people that flaunt their money and that isn’t the type of Omega you are.

So here you are. Sitting in your peach colored dress and a numbered paddle in your hand. Tonight, you attend a charity auction. The charity was a rehabilitation program for criminals who want to get back on the right path.

The auction items aren’t exactly… items. They’re Pro Heroes. People could bid on having a date with some of the most desirable Pro Heroes, Alphas, Betas, Omegas, all of them. Even No. 1 hero Deku and No. 4 hero Red Riot are up for auction, both being Omegas.

One of the last dates are being auctioned and you realize you have been zoning out. Not having bid anything yet, you put up your paddle.

“Going once, going twice… SOLD TO NUMBER 917 FOR TONIGHT’S HIGHEST BID OF $300.000,-! A date with explosion pro hero Ground Zero!”

Oh lord. Yes! You got- wait… You got actually got it? You won a date with Pro Hero Ground Zero. Wasn’t he the one with the explosion quirk? Impressive power and always capturing the villains. What separates him from Deku is his social skills. Or lack thereof, to be more precise. Ground Zero isn’t really the type of hero to stick around the people he saved to see if they’re okay.

On top of all that he’s also an Alpha. Highly sought out by Omegas who want a pup, but not the Alpha. His genes are what people want, not the man himself. His personality also making it harder for people to approach him. And you just won a date with the most desired and aggressive Pro Hero Alpha there is.

“Oi!”

The voice behind you pulled you from your thoughts. The subtle scent of caramelized candy apples caught your attention. You turn around and find a handsome Alpha standing there. Arms crossed, cardinal red eyes watching you and his lips in an almost angry looking pout. This is the man you just bought yourself a date with.

“H-hi!” you manage to stammer out.

With a huff, he places a card on your table. You pick it up and see that it’s a business card from Ground Zero’s agency. At the bottom, writing in sleek handwriting, is a phone number. You look back up at him, ready to ask him why he gave this to you. But he’s already turning around and heading for the exit.

“Just contact me when you wanna plan that date things.”

And just like that, you had Ground Zero’s personal phone number.

 ~ A few days later ~

 You’re sitting at a small booth, sipping on your matcha latte. You were a half hour too early, so you decided it wouldn’t hurt to go ahead and order a drink before Bakugou would arrive. In his very first text he made it clear to call him ‘Bakugou’ and not by his hero name. He said that it would feel too much like an interview otherwise. In return you told him to just call you ‘Y/N’.

After some back and forth texting the last couple of days, you two agreed to meet up at a local coffee shop. Not a lot of people know about this shop. It’s small and the interior looks more like cozy living room than a flashy coffee shop. It was your favorite place to sit down and enjoy a cup of coffee, tea or like right now, matcha latte.

Neither of you had any set plans for the rest of the day. Just kind of going with the flow seemed like the way to go. This would give you the freedom to hopefully have a quiet ‘date’. But you can’t really know that for sure when the person you’re on a date with is a Pro Hero.

The sound of the bell above the front door rings. You look up and see him walk in. Sitting all the way in the back, you can’t even smell him scent. Weren’t Alpha’s supposed to have very strong scents? Maybe he’s on suppressants?

He scans the shop, probably looking for you. His eyes land on you. He walks over and sits across from you. He leans back against the chair and swings his right arm over the arm rest while the left one is resting on the table. His eyes trail down from your face to the drink in your hands.

“I see you couldn’t wait for me to arrive,” he gruffly says.

“Uh-uhm, yeah. Sorry, I was super early. I hope you don’t mind.”

The silence that spreads between you two makes your Omega feel uncomfortable. Something doesn’t feel right and you’re starting to think that the Alpha in front of you truly doesn’t want to do any of this. So, to make it a little more bearable for yourself, you pump out a small amount of calming pheromones. Just to take the edge of this meeting.

Bakugou keeps looking at you. Until he finally picks up the menu card and says: “It’s fine. It’s your day, after all.”

He was right, you figured. But you still wanted him to have a pleasant time today too.

And so the day continues. The conversation isn’t very lengthy or deep. You discuss basic things like work, hobbies, favorite food. After a while the conversation kind of dies down. You suggest you two head out and into town. The man in front of you doesn’t seem overly thrilled about it, but still agrees.

When you go up to the front to pay, you hear him quickly walking up to you. He pulls your arm back. Surprised, you let out a small sound of shock and look up at him. A confused look is on his face and he pulls his hand away from you.

“The heck are you trying to do?”

Confused, you say: “Uh, paying?”

“I see that, but why? Omegas don’t pay when they’re with Alphas.”

Wow. At first you didn’t know how to respond to this remark. True, Omegas usually aren’t the ones paying on dates. In the past an Alpha would go out and hunt for their Omega. Since the hunting days are over and many Omegas work nowadays, treating them on dates are a way to show the Omega they can provide for them.

“Well,” you say as you hand over the money to the Beta barista behind the counter and thank him, “I don’t know about other Omegas, but I’m perfectly capable of paying for drinks too. I can provide just as well as any Alpha.”

You two walk outside and turn left to head into town. You’ve been meaning to go to the bookstore and hopefully find some new reading material. Two birds, one stone, right?

“Tsk, should’ve known a rich Omega like you doesn’t like to be told what to do,” Bakugou mumbles to himself.

You stop in your tracks. What? Was that really what he thought of you? A rich and snobby Omega?

Realizing you’re not walking beside him anymore, Bakugou turns around. Your head is bowed in shame. Normally your scent smells like peaches and hazelnuts, but now it turns into that of rotten fruit. You feel called out. For winning the lottery, for treating this Alpha to some drinks, for basically buying yourself a date with someone who clearly wishes to be anywhere else but here.

Your voice shakes, but you gather all your courage. “I’ll admit I was given a lot more financial freedom recently. And yes, I don’t like being told what to do. I believe everyone should be treated equally, regardless of their second gender. But I have never in my life asked for something. I was taught to work hard, to help people and to help and reward the people that help you.”

You pick up your head and look him straight in the eyes, politely smile and say: “I’m sorry you had to do this. This isn’t really how you planned your day would go. You can go, if you want to.”

As you pass him, determent to still go to the bookstore, you feel a weight being lifted from your heart. It really is unfair to the Alpha to make him go on a date with someone he doesn’t like. Deep down inside your Omega whines sadly. She recognized a good and safe provider in the Alpha, one who isn’t driven by hormones to just get an Omega pregnant. One who isn’t controlled their Alpha status. Too bad his Alpha isn’t interested in the Omega.

“Fuck, crap- wait! Shit!”

The cursing Alpha quickly catches up to you. He stops in front of you, holding up his hands to halt you. “Okay, fuck-just… let me explain.”

You cross your arms at him and wait for him to continue.

“Okay, so… Listen, I’ve been a real dick to you. Not just today, but basically since that charity event when I gave you my card. It was wrong of me assume anything about you. Shit Y/N, you’ve been nothing but nice to me. You don’t mind carrying the cost of a date, you’re not flaunting it around town that you’re spending time with a Pro Hero, you put up with my shitty responses and that isn’t how you should be treated. Or anyone for that matter! You deserve a proper date. So just, maybe I can make it up to you?”

By the end of his apology, Bakugou practically gives you angry puppy eyes in an attempt to ask for forgiveness. He reminds you of an angry Pomeranian. Smiling, you tell him that you forgive him. This day is supposed to be a fun one.

“But! You’ll have to carry the books I’ll buy as a punishment. And just so you know, I always come out with two shopping bags,” you tell him.

Bakugou just grins. “Fine. They’ll probably weigh nothing for me.”

Something in the air changes. A little sniff of your nose helps you identify the change. The scent coming from the Alpha next to you is slightly peaked. You heard that when an Alpha is preening their scents get stronger. You hardly think that’s the reason. Maybe it’s just because he’s in better mood now. Whatever the reason, you find yourself agreeing with your Omega; it’s a very nice scent.

 ~ An hour and a half later ~

 “I’ve never met someone who spends over an hour inside a bookstore!”

“I told you when we came in that it could take a while,” you reply to Bakugou’s complaints.

“You do this with nesting stuff too? You know, blankets and shit,” he asks.

In both his hands, Bakugou is carrying a bag containing close to twenty books you can add to your bookcases back at home. Even underneath the sleeves of his hoodie you can see the muscles of his arms. He’s not as bulky as Pro Heroes Deku and Red Riot, but those muscles are pretty impressive. You bet your money that those thighs could squish a watermelon. You can practically feel the water filling your Omega’s mouth. She wants nothing more than to chomp down on those delicious shoulders. And honestly, you wouldn’t mind that either.

You remember you were asked a question. “I do. How else am I gonna know I made the right choice? All of those blankets and shit, as you put it, go in my nest. I’m at my best with a perfect nest.” A confident smile forms on your face and from the corner of your eye you can see Bakugou looking at you. A small smirk creeps up on his face.

While enjoying our little banter, you both failed to notice the Alpha towards the two of you. Until he opened his mouth. “I bet I can make your nest even better, little Omega.”

The other guy stops right in front of you, completely ignoring the Alpha next to you. You’re shocked and take a step back to create some distance between you again. But the guy doesn’t let up and steps closer again.

“No, now get lost,” you firmly say. This wasn’t the first Alpha-asshole you encountered.

“Awh, why the sour face, baby? Bet I’ll be more fun than the hedgehog here.”

“Oi, asshole! She said to get lost.” The smells of pheromones of two Alphas are dominating the air. The strongest one being the creepy guy, Bakugou’s not so much. You honestly confused on that point. With an Alpha as desirable as Bakugou, you truly expected a stronger scent.

You can’t help but release your own distressed scent. The tension is getting to you. Even other people noticed and are stopping to see how this plays out.

The creep briefly looks at Bakugou before returning his attention on you. “Come on, baby. Ditch this  guy and then you and I can have our fun. What do you say?”

He extends his hand to put it on our waist and before you know it, you slap his hand away and punch him in the face. He stumbles back while cupping his now bleeding nose. Screaming in pain and shouting names at you. He’s beyond pissed; punched by a fucking Omega!

The adrenaline is pumping through you and every instinct in your body is telling you to run. Hide. Find an Alpha to protect you. You’re frozen on the spot. Your mind shutting down.

That’s when you feel a hand tugging you away. Your Omega recognizes the person this scent belongs to. Caramel candy apples. Bakugou.

You don’t know where he’s taking you. Your mind still processing things. All you know is to follow. ‘Cause he’ll lead to safety. Alphas keep Omegas safe. Follow. Safety. Alpha.

By the time you get to take in your surroundings, you realize you’re in an office. An office? What are you doing here? You look around and see a wooden desk with a black leather chair. A small bookcase, a closet and a couch with coffee table. A puffy black rug is covering the wooden floor, complimenting the one black wall behind you. The other walls are a tinted orange color.

The scent hanging in this office is… comforting. Soothing. Safe. You’re safe in here.

You’re seated on the couch. Wrapped in something soft. A blanket. A big, fluffy and soft blanket. The scent is even stronger on the blanket. You slowly inhale, imprinting this delicious mix of sweetness. After a couple seconds you finally notice the man next to you. Bakugou grins as he sees your focus shifting to him.

“I take it the blanket is approved,” he jokes.

You slowly nod. This small little cocoon makes you feel less vulnerable. Just like the presence of Bakugou next to you. It feels right. “Where are we?”

“Oh yeah, fuck. We’re at my agency. This is my office.”

You’re confused. “Your office? Why? I’m sorry, I kind of… froze. Can you tell me what happened afterwards?”

The smile that spreads on his face makes you feel funny inside. “What happened?! Y/N, you punched that fucker right in his fucking face! Shithead had it coming, tho. You just beat me to it. Omega or not, you know how to fight.”

You two look at each other and burst out laughing as you think back to that glorious moment. The creep definitely didn’t see your punch coming. It feels good to know the man next to you thinks you’re a decent fighter. He seems to actually be enjoying your company. Maybe he’s one of those people that are careful with who they get comfortable with. It feels good to know he feels like he can relax a bit more around you now.

You jokingly nudge him and say: “I bet I can even take you on, you big grump.”

“Oh yeah?” His eyebrow is raised, grinning with his canines on display. “Prove it then.”

Knowing a challenge when you see one, you keep your eyes fixed on his cardinal ones and slowly lean in closer. Baring your neck to the side in submission to lure in his Alpha. Your Omega is very pleased by the motion. Just as he moves to lean in too, you throw the blanket in his face, grab his neck and shove him down on the ground. Stradling him and jabbing your elbow into his side, pressing your nails into the skin of his neck.

Smiling down at the man below you; “How’s that, Alpha?”

A short lived victory as he snarls and the two of you roll over, with Bakugou keeping you pinned underneath his weight. He may not look like it, but this man weighs a ton!

“If you’re trying to be a worthy opponent, why not call me by my first name? It’s ‘Katsuki’,” he breathes heavily atop of you.

Next to your ear you hear a low grumbling sound. Still seeing this as a playfight you laugh and reach back. Your fingers finding pressure points in his neck, making him let go of you. This gives you the chance to overpower him again and straddle him once more while holding his wrists above his head.

Victorious once again, you look down. Growling and teeth bared, the air around you growing thick. The smell surrounding you hits you like thunder. The caramelized candy apple scent overwhelming your senses. Your eyes travel down to his neck and see something you failed to notice before; gland patches. Patches to block someone’s scent from becoming too noticeable. That’s why the other Alpha smelled so much stronger. But now, now you’re drowning in it. You can pick up on rage, possessiveness and… arousal. As much as he’s growling and snarling at you, you know that he’s enjoying this too.

Chuckling at you, he cranes his neck. His face now closer to you than a moment ago. “I’m pretty sure I just got my ass handed by the most perfect Omega.” His words push through the alarm bells his instincts are sending off. His Alpha is not pleased about being pinned down. But as it takes in the Omega’s scent of peaches and hazelnuts, it can’t help but lie down and surrender itself to this tasty smelling Omega. An Omega that can fight back. An Omega that can hold him close. An Omega worthy of carrying his pups.

His Omega.

Before either can properly get out any words Bakugou has wrestled his hands free and grabs a hold of your hips while your hands pull his face closer and seal the distance between your lips. The taste of sugar coated apples is even stronger on his lips and you can’t get enough of it.

His fingers press deeply in your skin, kneading the flesh. His hips pushing upwards while holding you in place. The low rumbling sound in the back of his throat being accompanied by your mewling. You wanted more of him, your Omega needed more.

The Alpha makes his displeasure heard. You both part to breathe in fresh air. His lidded eyes are on fire and following every movement you make. Your hands slip down to his collarbones and settle on his shoulders. The path of your hands make Bakugou throw back his head. His body is pressing into yours desperately, like he has no control over it anymore. His growling increases in volume.

Through gritted teeth he manages to speak to you. “Fuck, Omega. What are you doing to me?”

Taking a leap of faith, you answer: “I don’t know. All I know right now is that I need capable Alpha to take care of me. Are you that Alpha, Katsuki?”

Before you can even blink, you’re being rolled over again. This time you’ll let him have his way. His hands are sliding their way up to your chest, grabbing the front of your shirt and tearing it apart. You try to protest, but you’re stopped by the warning growl of his Alpha. You lay back down and occupy yourself with running your fingers through his hair. Your gently massage making the Alpha let out a content sound.

Entranced by the man above you, you hardly even notice his onslaught on your clothes. And his own clothes. Getting those replaced will be a worry for later, your Omega decide. All you need to focus on right now is Katsuki. You want this Alpha to mate you and it needs to happen right now, or else your Omega just might perish on the spot.

That’s when you feel it. The hard and heavy feeling of his cock rutting itself against your core. Your body can’t help but react to it and release a good amount of slick. Katsuki’s mouth nipping along your collarbones as your bare you neck in submission. You feel his fangs graze your scent glands and you start to whimper desperately.

“Fuck, Y/N. Keep making those pretty noises,” Katsuki says.

“Yes, Alpha, yes. Just-ah shit! Just fuck me already!” you loudly exclaim.

Now who is Katsuki to deny such a nice plea from such a good Omega?

Wasting no time, he slides himself inside. The stretch making you cry out for more, deeper, more, anything he can give you. You just know you need more. Barely able to hold himself back from ramming himself inside and fucking you like you’re in a heat, he takes his time for your to fully take him in. A sigh of satisfaction leaves you both when he finally does.

Your legs wrap around his waist and try to pull him deeper in. Your fingers curl around his spikey locks and tug harshly to get him moving. Grunting, Katsuki finally complies. Being buried inside you sends him into over-drive. You feel too damn good around him. He feels too good inside you as he sets in a brutal rhythm. You’re pretty sure no other man could ever make you feel this good. No other Alpha could ever please your Omega ever again. Feeling his body slam into yours like his life depends on it is possibly the best feeling in the world. Your lungs are sending out a mix of his name, pleas for more, for him to go faster.

Katsuki can’t help it, he can’t stop himself anymore. He need to do this, he needs you, his Alpha needs to mate your Omega. Give her everything she wants and all that she’ll take. Only the best for his Omega, he will be worthy of giving her pups.

You can feel the base of his cock starting to inflate. His knot. His knot is growing. As soon as you notice, you start to claw at his back. A need filling you till the point you’re almost bursting.

“Alpha! Knot, please- Alpha, knot me- I need- Need your knot, Alpha!” you scream in desperation.

He wants to. Oh, he wants to so badly. But in the back of his mind there’s one braincell left that tells him that now is not the time nor the place. His Omega deserves better.

“You deserve better than to be knotted in my office, Y/N,” he moans, “please give me a chance to give you something better one day. I’ll be the best fucking Alpha there is!”

You love the sound of that. Something better. Somewhere in the future. A future with Katsuki. “Yes, Kastuki! Only you, you’re the only Alpha, please, I’m so cl-“

The moment he sinks his teeth into the flesh just above your collarbone, you’re send into a world of blinding lights and exploding fire. His name keeps falling from your lips. The waves of fire keep pulsing through your body.

The tight grip around him becomes too much for Katsuki. He needs to pull out or else he’ll knot you for sure. When he you keep chanting his name, he pulls out and covers you in thick, long, white streams of his cum. Covering you in his seed, marking you as his in an obscene, but beautiful way.

“Look at you, perfectly covered in my cum,” he pants.

You preen at the compliment. A content scent is released. The smell of a happily fucked Omega. Katsuki could get addicted to this smell.

With the shredded pieces of clothing he cleans you up. He pulls the blanket you discarded earlier over you both as he lies down next to you. Your tired and warm body cuddles closer to him. He drinks in your scent a you purr softly.

“What did you have the blanket for in your office?” you ask with a yawn.

Katsuki looks down at your half-asleep face. A smile forms on his lips as he gently kisses the top of your head.

“I kept it for my future mate.”

Tagged: @reinawritesbnha @thots4daze @hipster-merchant-of-death @aizawascumslut @strawbirb @ravenfeet222 @sailor-manga @yanderart @league-of-villians-headcanons

[katyasrussianaccent]

you're so golden (corpse x reader)

Summary: You're a faceless youtuber that sings cover songs. What happens when a certain faceless streamer slides into your DMs after you cover one of his songs?

Author's Note: Don't hate me! This was gonna be a cute chapter but then I decided against that. Credit to @moontwinkles for the spilling scene idea. Let me know what you think!

Masterlist

The sound of your alarm wakes you from your slumber with a suddenness. Bleary-eyed, you roll over to turn it off, letting out a small sigh as your body and brain start to awaken. You’re going to meet Corpse. You’re going to meet Corpse. It bares repeating in your mind; the prospect still not quite registering.

You haven’t had the greatest sleep, your mind racing most of the night; skittish little thoughts that had you tapping your toes on the mattress in agitation as you struggled to turn them off. Sunlight streams through the cracks in your blinds, a warm glow painted in stripes on your wall. It was going to be a good day, tiredness be damned.

You get up, stretching your arms out as wide as possible and relishing in the relief as your muscles unclench themselves. There’s a little spring in your step as you walk to the bathroom, to wash your face and brush your teeth. You aren’t nervous as you pick out your favourite outfit, instead you feel excited. It’s funny how little scraps of fabric and thread can impact your mood so much, but you smile at your reflection, the feeling of confidence is nice, albeit rare.

The rumbling in your stomach signals that you need to eat something before you leave. Nothing too fancy, just some toast and a glass of juice. You can feel the nerves start to grow a little, the food sits heavy on your tongue, forcing you to swallow it. You grab your phone, scrolling as you chew. You go onto Corpse’s twitter, smiling at the picture he’s posted.

Out of curiosity, you go onto his likes. You always find his likes interesting; the random things he’s added gives you more of an insight to his thoughts and feelings. You chew the inside of your cheek as you scroll down past girls with perfect skin and bodies; your previous confidence now feels a little misplaced.

Deciding against letting it ruin your mood, you close the tab and go to grab your bag before locking your door and heading to your car. You text Rae to let her know you’re leaving and she replies almost immediately to wish you luck. Sitting in front of the steering wheel, you exhale as you start the engine and begin to drive. This was really happening. When Corpse had asked to meet, you were shocked. While you had discussed it, you had been under the assumption it would be a while before it happened. You just hope you don’t make an idiot of yourself; a tendency you had when you were nervous.

While you love the city, there’s something about driving on the open road. No noise, just the sound of tires on concrete. The scenery remains the same; nothing but trees and the occasional house far in the horizon. You’re meeting him in Santa Barbara; a place you’ve been to once in your life, so it might as well be brand new. It’s halfway between both of you, and while it’s still a few hours drive, you’ve got good music and some sunshine to keep you happy.

The drive flies in and before you know it, you’ve arrived. You’re meeting at a cafe that sells bubble tea; it was Corpse’s recommendation. It’s a charming little place, with white table and chairs on a cobbled patio area. The building itself is white brick, plant pots decorate the window sills and there’s a small crowd of people waiting in line. You turn off the engine, and grab the perfume out your bag, the smell of peaches invading your nostrils. With one last look at yourself, you exit your car and make your way to the cafe.

You’re not sure how you’ll find him, being faceless and all. A quick scan of the people around you, your eyes zero in on a figure dressed all in black, leaning against a wall that’s slightly in the shade. There’s butterflies in your stomach as you look at him from afar, your feet apparently unable to move on their own accord. He stands out amongst the brightly coloured outfits of everyone else, and you can see the sun glint against the chains on his jeans.

“Hi,” you greet, your hand going up to half-wave at him. He’s handsome; pale skin and cheekbones that disappear under the fabric of his mask. A mop of black curls are atop his head, falling out in different directions, and he brushes one off his forehead as he looks at you.

“Hey,” he replies and you smile a little. There’s a thick fog of awkwardness between you as you both take each other in, though trying not to look so obvious about it. You feel under scrutiny as his eyes move over you, and you meet his gaze before you both look down at the ground, a faint blush on your cheeks.

“How was the drive?,” you ask at the same time he does, causing you both to laugh. “Oh. Uh yeah it was good, thanks, how was yours?”

“Yeah it was good,” he replies, his eyes still on the ground.

“That’s good.”

“Yeah.”

You scream internally as your eyes dart around, looking for something, anything to break this awkwardness. It shouldn’t be like this, you have such great chemistry on the phone and online, but there’s nothing right now. Is it you? There’s a niggling in your brain that says he was fine until now; until he saw you.

“We could go, uh, into the cafe? Get some food?” he suggests, breaking you from your self deprecating thoughts. You nod and you follow him to the door. He opens it and you dodge out the way as it narrowly escapes hitting you in the face. Corpse mutters an apology as he walks in, his eyes glued to the ground.

You order together; you get yourself a boba tea and a burger and Corpse does the same. He pays without saying anything to you, and while the day’s isn’t going quite as you pictured, the gesture makes your cheeks warm. You desperately hope it gets better. Maybe you’ve misread the situation and the chemistry you felt you had was just friendship on his part. Friends flirt all the time, and it doesn’t have to mean anything.

Your food arrives and you sit in relative silence as you eat. The times you do speak is stilted, full of one word answers and obvious observations. You go to reach for your boba as Corpse goes to grab salt, and the movement of his hand plus the crampedness of the table pushes your own hand back towards you, knocking the cup all over your neck and chest. Corpse shoots up in a speed that shouldn’t be human, his hand full of napkins as he comes towards you. The liquid is cold against your skin, and you look down to see your outfit now ruined, the fabric sticking to you in wet patches.

“I’m such a fucking idiot, I’m so sorry,” Corpse says, his tone panicky as he dabs at your neck. He continues to dab, his hands pressing at the neckline of your top and if this was another time, you’d feel all fluttery at his hands on your skin. But it’s not, you’re uncomfortable and the day has sucked so far and all you want to do is go home. He discards the napkin onto the table and grabs another, his fingers warm against your collarbone as he presses the tissue. He doesn’t realise that he’s travelling downwards to your chest before he presses once, twice, before retracting his hand back like he’s been burned, the napkin falling to the floor. “Uh fuck, sorry, I didn’t realise I - “

“It’s fine,” you reassure him. “I’ve always wanted apple scented boobs, guess I can check that off my bucket list.” It’s a failed joke but humour is a defence mechanism for you, even if it’s not very funny. Corpse widens his eyes a little, his gaze fixed on the napkin that’s on the floor.

He hands you some more napkins and you clean up a little more. Your skin feels sticky, and you smell of artificial apple; but the apple isn’t sweet, it’s bitter and slightly unpleasant.

“Uh, I should probably go home and get a shower, I feel like I fell into a vat of sugar,” you say, standing up and grabbing your bag.

“Oh, yeah, I’m so fucking sorry, I’m so clumsy,” Corpse replies. You can tell he feels awful, and while you sympathise, he’s not the one that’s just had almost a full cup of boba spilled on him.

You shake your head, “It’s fine, really. I just feel really gross. Don’t worry about it.” You smile in what you hope comes across as reassurance.

“Let me walk you back to your car,” he says. You nod and walk out together in silence; something you had gotten used to throughout the day.

“Have a safe drive back,” you say as you get to your car.

“I will. Let me know when you get home?” he asks, and you nod.

“Shall do. Goodbye Corpse,” you say, opening the door and waving at him through the window. He waves back and you watch him through the rearview mirror as he disappears out of sight. You feel like an idiot for believing this was going to be good, like you ever had a chance with him. You’d been saying it since the start; that it wouldn’t work, you had nothing in common, nothing to talk about. And you were right. Sometimes you hated being right.

You turn the engine on and sit there for a second, your head pressing against the steering wheel. What a waste of time this was. Grabbing your phone, you tweet quickly.

“Oh well, let’s go wallow in self pity,” you whisper before driving off.

Taglist: @genshinglitter @fanworrior @cherry-piee @mirahg @clara-bee @clubfairy @youretheonlyonewhomakesme @more-like-reyna @boiled-onionrings @moneybagmgk @brendalopez99 @delicateavenuenacho @dreamsofficialwife @hydrate-tion @oi-itsemily @letsloveimagines @softforqiankun @evilunicorns4minions @captain-willowwitch @afuckingunicornn @theroyalbrownbarbie @buttersnitzle @officiallyunofficialperson @aha-red @frostbitelokii @butterfly-skinnylegend @sofianunes10 @ghostfacefricker6969 @alienvarmint @helena-way07 @woah2pointo @jasmine2042003 @youhyakuya @adore-holland @hyunjinhugs @finahja @lupinpetersclearwaterodairparker @only-corpse-hands @remugoodgirl @gowhiteboygo-poggers @open-minded-chip-101 @daveedfanfics @justakpopstans @majasophieanna @mxjetlagcity @strawberrydonkey @meowtella @lizzylynch1 @chesca-791 @anescapefromtheworld @unded-bride @majasophieanna @adorkably @lost--in--the--moon @euphoricseokjin

[adelheidvonschicksal]

Gosh, the Hawks x intern! Reader sure made me tear up :(

Like imagine him regretting not being there for her and his baby girl from the start and trying to make up for it now 😭😭💖

I was going to imagine this, but I couldn't because I ended up writing 3000 words. 😭 I just love fictional babies so much and want them to be happy, okay? I left it open-ended, so I wouldn't betray the "kick his ass" gang. I'm a weak woman 🥺 I still don't know much about him other than what Wikipedia and memes tell me but here we go!

Part One | Part Two

Hawks doesn’t think you’ll ever let him in, not that he could blame you. Every time you see him, your expression hardens, pretty eyes narrow into a glare, nostrils flare, breathing heavy. His only bright light during your last exchange is that you wait three seconds before slamming the door in his face rather than the usual zero.

Oh, he’s definitely softening you up. Not.

It’s been a month now that he’s been at this, and he is starting to wonder if this entire thing is worth the headache. All he’s accomplished so far is bothering you with his requests to talk. Then, he remembers the little angel that you have with you and thinks it’s worth the headache.

At first, he had ignored your previous exchange that day at the park and the nagging feeling in the corner of his mind upon seeing the two of you. Until that same feeling started to weigh on his heart. He quickly realizes what those feelings were. Guilt and regret at not taking another path with the high schooler he so carelessly took advantage of and impregnated.

If he had, he could be annoying Endeavor about his cute little wife right about now.

Hawks feels a bit like Icarus flying too close to the sun and now sinking in a turbulent ocean of his own making. Instead of drowning, the world decides to throw him a lifeline as the receptionist patches a call through to him.

His heart jumps when he hears you on the other side, resistant but succumbed in your plea, “I need your help.”

The very next day you arrive at the agency, a small hand latched in your own as you stand in the middle of his office. You didn’t want to be here. The thought of being in the same place where your daughter was conceived with the same man who left you makes you antsy. You can’t believe you actually let Fumikage talk you into this.

You remember that phone conversation.

Your daughter’s quirk had been coming in full force, so fast you didn’t know how to handle it. You hoped that Tokoyami would have been able to help her control it since he trained with the very person she received her quirk from much longer than you had and that he was part avian himself.

“Please, Fumi. It’s getting worse,” you begged over the phone. “She accidentally hurt a few of the kids at school. No. No. They’re fine, some cuts and a little shook up, but fine. They won’t let her back in until she gets it under control though, so please.”

“I told you there’s not much else I can do. The best solution would be to go to the person with the same quirk.”

He’s right. He’s absolutely right, but you don’t want to rely on someone like that man especially now. What if he ended up hurting her?

“I don’t want to do that.”

“I know you don’t, but he’s been trying to contact you, right? So I'm sure he'd do it if you asked.”

“Yeah…” You growled. “I swear if he makes one smart-ass remark, I might kill him in front of her.”

“Remember it’s not for you. Although, I don’t think you could kill him even if you tried.”

“If we combined our strength…”

“No,” Tokoyami immediately shot down.

You sighed. “I’m only joking. Do you have the number to the agency still?”

Now you’re here, watching the very man who abandoned you kneel down to your daughter’s eye level. Hawks couldn’t believe he’s actually seeing her. It’s a bit exciting to see how much bigger she’s gotten in such a short time with big fat wings at her back holding way more feathers than she can probably deal with.

“So, this is the special girl,” he says. She shies away from him, hiding behind your leg for protection. “Come on out, Baby Bird, you don’t have to be scared of me.”

Slowly, she peeks from behind you, fingers still clutched in your pants leg, and Hawks smiles.

“There you are. Did your mommy tell you who I am?”

“You’re her and uncle Toko’s old teacher, and you’re going to help me control my quirk.”

“That’s right. You just turned five, right? That’s when a lot of quirks can get kind of hectic.”

“Yeah. I had a birthday party with Elsa last month.”

Hawks’ smile falters for a second as he thinks he doesn’t know exactly what day her birthday is. At least now he knows the month. Quickly, he’s back to normal to keep an air of happiness in the situation. “You know I know a lady that looks a bit like Elsa. She has ice powers like her too,” Hawks says, having grown a little closer to the number one hero's family as he tried to figure out what to do about his own family situation.

When her eyes widen, Hawks knows he has her hook, line, and sinker. She throws her initial shyness to the wind in exchange for excitement. “She does? Can I meet her?”

“I’m sure we could make that happen. If not, her son has an ice quirk, too. I’m sure he’d show you.”

The young girl smiles at him, but Hawks notices her vision drifting to something else. Cautiously, her tiny hand stretches out to him, making him nervous as to what she’s doing, before chubby fingers clutch around the edge of his wing, squeezing into his feathers. “They’re pretty,” she mumbles.

“Want one?” he asks, and she nods.

“This is my birthday present for you, don’t lose it,” he says, offering her a single long feather from the back of his wings. She clutches it to her chest tightly, a happy smile plastered on her face.

Then, you interrupt.

“Baby, mama has to run some errands, but she’ll come right back to pick you up when the clock says twelve. You remember how that looks like, right?”

“It’s a 1 and a 2,” she says, bringing up her hands to show you.

Hawks decides to walk you out as your daughter sits in his office chair, twirling around his feather in her hand. He isn’t sure what to say to you now that he has you near him. Should he thank you for bringing her? Or would that only serve to piss you off since it’s not like you wanted to do this by choice?

“Hawks,” you say, bringing him out his thoughts. “There’s one more thing before I go.”

“What is it?”

“Don’t tell her,” you order. “Don’t you dare tell her.”

His chest squeezes at that but he can understand why you wouldn’t want her to know that information when the two of you aren’t even on speaking terms outside this issue. He didn’t want to do anything to make the situation worse either, so he brings his fingers to his mouth and zips his pinched thumb and index finger across his lips. “I’ll make sure mine and anyone else’s lips are sealed if they want to keep their job,” he calmly reassures you, always calm and carefree so you wouldn’t think that your rejection is successfully deterring him.

From then on, you drop your daughter off at his office twice a week to get a better handle on her powers. You didn’t stay long aside from that, but Hawks likes the small moments when all three of you are in the same room together.

The hero can be thankful that at least one of his girls likes him. His Baby Bird quickly attached herself to him, always pattering after his footsteps like a shadow, and always asking if he’d hold her hand, a smile forming whenever he engulfed her smaller one. He even keeps his promise to let her see Rei, or Elsa as Baby Bird so passionately refers to her, now that the woman is out of the hospital.

He thinks that if that family can recover from what happened then his shouldn’t be much different as long as he keeps trying to put in the effort and not step on your toes too much.

It isn’t long before Baby Bird begins to get a hang of her powers. At least enough that she wouldn’t be hurting anyone at school. Hawks had hoped you would still allow him to train her past that point though, but you quickly told him that she wouldn’t be returning to the agency when she reached that point.

He was sad to hear it of course, but he didn’t want to cause what little progress he made to be broken even if he really wanted to see her fly at least a few inches before she left. She’s been getting into the habit of jumping instead of walking to practice like he used to do. Although, she resembles more of a bouncy frog than a bird, to be honest.

He watches, amused, as she bounces along next to him in the hallway.

“You’ve gotten good at that,” he compliments, drawing her attention upwards.

“I’ve been practicing lots at home, but I’m not that good yet. Will you teach me how to fly like you do tomorrow?” she asks.

“No, Baby Bird. Didn’t your mommy tell you that we’re done with training after today?”

She hangs her head down, her bouncing stopping as she drags her feet. “…Yes,” she answers, letting his arm go lax as she releases his hand. Hawks pauses, watching as she draws her hands to her waist and anxiously bunches and twists the bottom of her shirt, and Hawks throat goes dry as she asks with glossy eyes, “Daddy, why doesn’t mommy like you?”

He’s completely silent, wondering exactly when she figured it out or if someone in the office had told her, let alone told her the fact that you didn’t like him. Well, he guesses it doesn’t take a genius to figure that out. “How do you know to call me that?"

“Yesterday, my teacher told us that we inhe-inhe-inherent our quirk from our parents. I remember you said Elsa and her son had the same quirk, and you have big wings like mine and can make your feathers move.”

Hawks smiles. She’s a sharp one to piece it together in a day. “Your teacher is right. I bet you’ve never seen anyone else that looks quite like us.”

“No,” she answers, sniffling. “I don’t want to go home. I want to stay and play with you. Mommy is so mean to you. I hate her!”

Hawks cups her chin in his hand, forcing her to meet his eyes. “Look at me. Don’t talk about your mommy like that. It’s my fault she always gets upset when I’m around. I was mean and bullied her a lot, so if you’re mad, be mad at me. I’m the reason we can’t play together more.”

She sniffs again but it isn’t enough to stop the globs of tears running down her cheeks. “When we saw you at the park, mommy started crying when we went home. I didn’t know why she did.”

Hawks knows why. The reason you’re always so angry at him is because of the hurt you still hold inside for what he did to you. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have cried. The opposite of love is indifference as they say, and he knows it’s true because he had been indifferent to the pain he caused ever since the day you came to him with weepy eyes and shaking arms as you told him you were pregnant. You had been scared, and he told you to deal with it.

Hawks scowls. He’s starting to feel sick.

"If you make someone cry, you should say sorry."

Hawks smiles. “I know, baby. I'll apologize to your mama, and I’m going to try my best to make it up to her, and you, too. I’m not going to make either of you cry anymore. Then, when she forgives me, we’ll play together again.”

She looks to him, a small glimmer of hope. “You promise?”

Hawks chuckles and grins at her, the same charming expression that made you fall for him in the first place. He holds out his hand. “Even better. I pinky promise,” he says and confidently hooks her finger with his. “Repeat after me: birds of a feather stick together.”

“Birds of a feather stick together.”

“That’s my girl,” he praises before dropping her hand to pet her head. “I think we might have a little time for me to teach you something before your mommy gets here.”

At the end of the day, Hawks is already waiting for you at the front steps of the agency as your call pulls into parallel park at the sidewalk. You step out and walk towards the steps, but your daughter meets you halfway by hopping over them, her wings flapping to hover before she falls back down onto her feet.

You smile at her. You can’t believe she’s actually flying, at least a little that is, but your surprise is ruined when she cheers. “Mommy, look at what daddy taught me,” she says, bouncing to show you her new hovering skills. “Are you looking? Are you looking?”

“Yes, I’m looking. You’re so good at that. You need to show me more when we get home,” you say but to be honest it’s the last thing on your mind as you glance over to Hawks. “Baby, why don’t you go sit in the car, and I’ll be right there.”

Hawks watches as she obediently follows your instructions, turning her back and happily hopping towards the vehicle.

“(Name), I-” Hawks says, unsure what to expect when your angry glare turns back on him. It isn’t until his yellow visors are already clicking against the pavement that he realizes you hit him. He hisses at the sting on his cheek. “That actually kind of hurt. I guess I had it coming, but I’m not really sure what I did at least recently,” he tries to play off, but you aren’t having it.

“You told her, you told her,” you keep repeating, and he’s backing away in case you decide to strike him again. “Are you trying to get her on your side?”

“Not in the way you’re thinking, and I didn’t tell her,” Hawks explains. “She pieced it together on her own. She’s sharper than you think, she can see that we look alike when she looks in a mirror, and she knows how quirks work. That’s more than enough for her to tell.”

His explanation is enough for you to halt in your assault, and you angrily huff under your breath. You don’t shift to leave, and there’s no door for you to slam away. He finally has you available. “So, what do you want to do now?” he asks.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean she knows; and honestly, I’m glad she does,” he confesses. “I wouldn’t mind seeing her again if you’d let me.”

Hawks swallows his anxiety as he waits for you to answer. Your eyes shift from him back to where she sits in your car, fiddling with the toys obviously left to clutter in the back before you look back at him, thinking.

“She does seem to like you…for some reason,” you add distastefully, but you know full well how happy training makes her. How her little smile beamed when she fluttered over those steps. How the word daddy came from her so sweetly. “She always likes talking about you after she spends the day here. You make her happy. But that’ll just make it harder for her when you leave ag-“

“I won’t,” he cuts off.

“How do I know that?”

“You don’t but I promise not again. (Name), I’m sorry. I’m sorry for telling you to go away like a burden and for not being there. You must’ve been scared, but I won’t leave either of you alone from now on even if you don’t want me there. I’ll be there if you need me.”

“Drop it. I’m not a part of this,” you tell him.

He knows that you’re rejecting his apology, but his ears can pick up what others can’t. He can hear those soft inflections in your voice right before you harden it into aggression, the slight stutter that you so cleverly thought you hid from him as you nearly fumbled your words, a little glimpse of a teenage girl with a crush on her sensei. “Not yet but do know I plan on trying until I make you fall for me all over again. I miss your cute little face when I'd smile at you.”

You glare. “Say that again, and I will smack you in your "cute little" face.”

"You already did that, but if it makes you feel better go ahead, I can take it if it helps you forgive me.”

He just didn’t expect you to actually take him up on the offer. This time, it’s the other cheek that burns.

“You’re right. That did make me feel better,” you say, smirking as you shake the sting from your hand. Hawks grunts, rubbing his jaw as you begin to walk towards your car. He bends down to pick up his shades before following close behind. You open the driver’s door, and say, “I expect you to pick her up at 9 tomorrow. If you’re late, don’t bother showing up ever again.”

Hawks smirks. You certainly became aggressive these past few years, but he thinks he kind of likes it. As you get in your car, he notices Baby Bird smiling at him from the window, her hand up and clutched around that birthday feather he gifted to her as she waves him off.

He’ll definitely be there on time.

[roll-da-credits]

Overprotective - Hawks x Reader

Word Count: 1.3k

Request: hi ! if you don’t mind could i request something for hawks?? you can do it as a oneshot or hcs (which ever works for you). basically my idea was that the reader and him work together but reader gets injured. its not even that bad maybe just like a deep cut on their or something but people come to load them into the ambulance and hawks is just in protective birb mode. mans has his wings around them and is glaring at anyone near and reader is just like “pls i just need to get stitches then i’ll be fine dummy”. protective hawks just makes my heart go hnnnggghhh,,

A/n: fun fact of the day, protective Hawks also make my heart go S;DFJLASDFLJA;SDJFA, I love him sm, like he's such a bastard but he's an amazing bastard yk? I mean just look at how absolutely dumb and adorable he looks in the banner❤️ Anyways, thank you so much for the request and I hope you enjoy it!!!

🖤❤️🖤

“Hawks, the situation has gotten a little bit out of hand, they can use an extra hero out there.” One of Keigo’s assistants informed him over the phone.

Before he even replied, he flew quickly over to the site, “I’m already here. Who’s on duty right now?” Keigo released some of his feathers to rescue some civilians, and listen in on whatever ruckus was happening.

“Kamui Woods and H/n, but their quirks aren’t the best fo-” Keigo didn’t even let the woman behind the phone finished before quickly turning off his phone and sending even more of his feathers to scan the area for you.

If he was called in for backup, that meant you and Kamui Woods weren’t able to contain the villain very well. Or it could mean both of you were injured far beyond being able to defeat it. His mind raced trying to listen in on every corner of the danger zone.

The villain wasn’t exactly incredibly destructive or murderous, he was just a criminal with a rather pesky quirk. Being able to create spikes wherever his skin touched and on his hands, led to a lot of bystanders in the busy area getting injured, both Kamui Woods and you, were rather overwhelmed.

“Woods, rescue the civilians, I’ll try to ambush him.” From one of his feathers, he could hear your voice and pinpointed your location before swiftly flying over there.

His eyes landed on yours, and for a brief second, you faltered in your position, rather shocked at seeing Keigo there. This small shock led your ambush to completely failing, the man had enough time to react to your attack.

The spikes on his hands were directed to slash your chest, if it wasn’t for a red feather quickly pushing you back, your chest would’ve been a giant gash by now. Keigo flew down and quickly apprehended the man with his feathers quite easily. Making you slightly scoff behind him.

“Always got to show off huh?” he looked back at you with a small smirk, only for it to immediately falter when he saw your right hand on your shoulder. Blood dripping from your fingers.

“Birdie, I thought you completely dodged it?!” Keigo walked over to you eyes glued on the wound, wings rather puffed up from worry.

“He can extend his spikes you know?” Since Keigo was still looking pretty alarmed, you tried calming his nerves down, “Love, it's literally nothing. I get worse injuries all the time, it’ll probably take 2 stitches and that’s it. I am a bit tired from all the fucking running though.”

You said the last words in a more joking manner and started to head over to an ambulance to get your wounds treated and transported to a hospital to check for any further damage.

That was your plan, before Keigo suddenly picked you up from the ground, his wings taking flight immediately.

“Oi Keigo what the FUCK are you doing?!?!??!?” You yelled, being completely shocked at the fact that a second ago your feet touched the ground, now there was no ground to be seen.

“Who knows if the people in the ambulance were actually working with the thief.”

At this point you were flabbergasted, this man picked you off your feet just because of a deep cut in your SHOULDER, not even your legs, and didn’t want you to deal with paramedics because he was scared of them being the thief’s accomplices.

“You are literally making zero sense.” You let out an exasperated sigh knowing full well Keigo isn’t letting you go any time soon.

Finally arriving at the hospital, Keigo was literally on your tail the entire time. Even when going up to the desk to explain what happened to when you had to explain the circumstances you were in (those circumstances being you didn’t get to the paramedics on sight because of a certain hero).

When one of the nurses came to bring you to another room, Keigo followed once again.

“Excuse me, sir, we need to bring you to a different room to do a check-up on you.” There were a few scratches here and there from the previous fights before your skirmish with the villain. But he completely ignored the nurse. Only fluffing up his wings even more.

“Sir?” “Oh, I’m incredibly sorry, I’d like to say with my little birdie over there.” Keigo gestured towards you who’s being led to sit on a bed before getting stitches.

He came over to stand next to you and hold your hand in his.

“Babe, I’m literally a pro hero, I’ve gotten stitches more times than I can count. It's ok.” You tried reassuring him. Codeword: tried.

When the doctor came in with her tools, Keigo literally glared daggers at her. The room felt like it dropped a couple of degrees and you can feel the doctor getting slightly nervous from the dangerous glare of the rather intimidating hero.

Who wouldn’t be intimidated when an extremely popular hero’s lover was being treated by you?

“Ok no I’m not doing this, babe wait outside.” Keigo immediately looked at you with an offended expression. As if you just insulted him and all of his ancestors before him, “You’re literally intimidating the poor doctor, this will take about 15 minutes and then you can come back in.”

You kept a stern tone to him and he dejectedly, like a child after getting scolded by his mother, walked out the room. Leaving the ‘suspicious’ (at least to him) doctor and you alone.

15 minutes had passed and when the doctor left the room, she was immediately met with the menacing glares of the fastest hero, “They’re ok right?” The doctor stammered trying to answer him, “Uhhh yeah, yeah she’s fine. Its, it's not that deep.”

After answering she immediately paced away from Keigo who was already entering your room.

He took a seat beside your bed laid his head on the crook of your uninjured shoulder, wings lightly fluttering from the joy he was feeling. He had the biggest dopey smile you had ever seen.

“Your wings look really fluffy right now.” You remarked reaching out to caress some of his feathers. They were incredibly soft despite how dangerous of weapons they can be when he wanted them to.

“I was worried, am I not allowed to worry for my incredible birdie?” He cooed to you before wrapping his hands around your waist, peppering kisses all over your face. Causing you to giggle and lightly push him away.

“I’m a pro hero you know, I know when to ask for help.” You held up the feather necklace Keigo gave you, showing you technically could signal him to come to your aid any time if you needed to, “You don’t need to worry about me, pretty boy.”

The dopey smile somehow grew much more into a heartwarming one. He climbed onto the hospital bed, snuggling with you on it, was it slightly uncomfortable? Sure. But you wouldn’t have to stay here for that long anyway, so why not just have a little calming cuddle session.

Keigo, feeling your head on his chest, his hand tangling itself on your hair, and his other hand holding firmly on your waist, reminded himself. You will be okay. He doesn’t always need to baby you. You’re perfectly capable of doing things.

“Hey, birdie?” You hummed in reply, “Sorry for how weird I acted.” You snorted, weird was an understatement.

“It was cute seeing you overprotective though.” With that Keigo’s laughter filled your ears. Like a soft calming tune.

It was weirdly serene, bandages all over your left shoulder, the sun lightly setting, and an amazing man (bird? Man-bird?) in your arms.

[eskelbigbang]

Eskel Big Bang 2021 Masterpost

Here are all the fics and art made this year for the Eskel Big Bang. Congratulations on the hard work, everyone!

AO3 collection || #ebb works tag || #ebb art tag || #ebb fic tag

Below the cut is a full list of all EBB works:

Uprooted (T, No Pairing, 12k) by @rachofspades, art by @drachedraws

When a nondescript notice begging for a witcher's aid catches Eskel's attention on his way back to Kaer Morhen for the winter, he finds himself drawn in by his own curiosity despite his initial reservations. Once he arrives, it quickly becomes apparent that there's something more sinister going on than typical monster attacks, and he's determined to figure out what it is. Fic || Art (1) (2)

These Clay Hands (T, Eskel/Jaskier, 4.7k) by @aalizazareth, art by @hobbart-art

Eskel is a shy pottery instructor who meets Jaskier during one of his lessons. The two hit it off. Fic || Art

The Empty Safe Job (M, Eskel/Geralt/Jaskier, 18k) by @iboughtaplant, art by @gods-no-longer-tread-here

A team of thieves with complicated pasts take down the rich and powerful to help those that get left out from justice. Their latest job should be simple, but an unexpected adversary has Eskel confronting his past. Sometimes bad guys make the best good guys. Fic || Art

the broken vines are an open door (M, Eskel & Geralt & Yennefer, 5.2k) by @trissmarrygoals, art by @flyingyarn

Traveling through Aedirn with his newly acquired child surprise, Eskel stumbles upon a dead body - and with it, a mystery. Fic || Art

With you I'll never be alone (T, Eskel/Geralt, 5.8k) by @dat-carovieh, art by @mondfuchs

From their first meeting, through their whole long life Geralt and Eskel have always been there to comfort each other when one of them got hurt. --- Or five times Geralt and Eskel comfort each other through some kind of hurt and one time they're just comfortable. Fic || Art

Eskel Has A Good Day (G, Eskel & Wolf Witchers, 9.3k) by @gods-no-longer-tread-here, art by @phoenixandjacob

The Wolves (and bard) of Kaer Morhen go on a vacation to the coast, and have a good day. Fic || Art (1) (2)

Tu Me Manques. (T, Eskel/Jaskier, 8k) by @etcorsolus, art by @cvbeebop

In which, Eskel meets a bard who calms him. Body, mind, and soul. Story title is how the French say 'I miss you.' The more literal translation is 'You are missing from me.' Fic || Art

Little Red (M, Eskel/Lambert, 6.1k) by @miahclone, art by @llwynbleidd

Eskel helps Lambert while he's recovering from a serious injury. To distract him from the pain, Eskel tells stories of past hunts. Fic || Art

Constellations (M, Eskel/Geralt, 7.2k) by @dredshirtroberts, art by @dat-carovieh

Eskel loves Geralt but their soulmarks don't match - he'd know. They're witchers, and scars are their business. As he joins Geralt in retirement, Eskel figures whatever he can get with the other witcher will be enough. He might get a little bit more than he thought he was bargaining for, but Eskel's never passed up a good deal. Fic || Art (1) (2)

Trial By Fire (Eskel and Aza's Wild Ride) (E, Eskel/OFC, 11k) by @janzoo, art by @liaonyxrayne

When Eskel rescues his succubus acquaintance from witch hunters, their reunion becomes something more as they're drawn into the hunters' plot. What can they do against a twisted idealist and the danger he presents to witchers and non-humans? Fic || Art

Pardon Me While I Burst Into Flames (E, Eskel/Jaskier, 29k) by @ghostinthelibrarywrites, art by @wolfgeralt

When Eskel is hired to kill an incubus who ruined a noble wedding, he finds that his target is far from a bloodthirsty beast, a too-pretty court bard. Eskel spares Jaskier and they go their separate ways, with Eskel expecting never to see the incubus again. But Jaskier has other ideas. Fic || Art

I Could Eat the World Raw (E, Eskel/Jaskier, 7k) by @buttercupsanddandelions, art by @gods-no-longer-tread-here

“This is Eskel.” He pushes him slightly forward, “And he just had his conduit moment.” After becoming a mage, Eskel finds that he's been soul-bound to a little lordling. Fic || Art

Something we bury (M, Eskel/Geralt, 10k) by @heartoferebor, art by @craftgamerzz

“Where’s Eskel?” Ciri asks Geralt, frowning a little. “He went out to do more hunting and gather some potion ingredients. Should be back any moment,” Geralt reassures her. “Ah. Good.” She hesitates a little before deciding to forge right ahead with her next question. She’s asked everyone else in the keep, of course she’ll have to ask Geralt, too. “About his scars…” * Ciri wants to know where Eskel's scars came from, so she decides to ask everyone at the keep about them. Except, they all seem to have different stories... Fic || Art

Lord What Fools These Witchers Be (T, Aiden/Eskel, 21k) by @jayofolympus and @frenchkey, art by aviixrc

When Lambert brings Aiden to winter with him in Kaer Morhen, Eskel is catapulted straight into his own personal hell. It would be easier if he didn’t like the Cat. Instead, he finds himself falling head over heels for his brother’s boyfriend and trying to hide it from a pack of nosy Witchers. If only Aiden would stop flirting with him... Fic || Art (1) (2)

A Moment of Comfort (M, Eskel/OC) by @merpancake

An attack at a brothel begins with blood and carnage, but Eskel finds an unexpected peace in the arms of Cenna. As their paths continue to cross, Eskel carries that same peace within him on his journey through monsters and men. Art

Toussaint's Finest (M, Eskel/Geralt, 9.1k) by @kate-river, art by @justhereforeskel

Eskel is still roaming the Continent. But in recent years the Path has become harder and harder. Eskel has made it a habit to come by Corvo Bianco around vintage and this year's events might change a few things in his life forever. Fic || Art

Beneath the Shadow and the Soul (E, Eskel/Geralt/Jaskier, 32k) by @vix-spes, art by @buffskierights

Eskel had the strange feeling that everything was going to change when he passed through Dol Blathanna one year on his way back to Kaer Morhen for winter. He had been passing through a town and, instead of running away from him, someone had exclaimed “You’re a Witcher,” and proceeded to sing at him. He just hadn't realised how much of an impact it would have on him. Fic || Art

Daughter of Fire (T, Eskel/Geralt/Jaskier, 4.9k) by @kittynannygaming, art by @zmezagain

Witchers are sterile, that's a fact. No female human can bear their child. Well, the keyword here is 'human' and a succubus is very not human. And Eskel now has a sweet 7 years old daughter. Fic || Art

Break It Recklessly (E, Eskel/Geralt/Jaskier, 22k) by @anonymousblueberry, art by @nol-nol

From teenage tearaways to successful adults, Geralt and Eskel have always been inseparable. To the extent that when Geralt accepts a wedding invite with Eskel as his plus one, there’s the assumption that they have finally sorted their shit out and got together, forcing them to keep up the facade or cause chaos for the happy couple. What follows is a crash course in emotions, dating, and working out that love can burn long and slow for a very long time. Fic || Art

The Question (M, Eskel/Istredd, 40k) by @eskelchopchop, art by @stars-in-my-damn-eyes

Eskel's in Ohio when Yennefer calls. He’s reluctant to pick up; he’s still not over Geralt, and he's got zero desire to chat with Geralt's new lover. Turns out Yen isn’t his lover anymore, and this isn’t about Geralt. It’s about witcher’s work. Yennefer owns Portal, one of New York City's most popular gay clubs. A Post-Conjunction Entity (PCE) is hunting her clientele, leaving a string of withered corpses in its wake. The police are doing jackshit. Will Eskel come back to a city full of bad memories and take a job off the books to stop it? He'll sure as hell try. Along the way, he’ll cross paths with Istredd, a man with sorcerer’s eyes and a painful past of his own. If Eskel doesn't work fast enough, they both might become the PCE's next victims. Fic || Art

Is It Cold In The Water? (E, Eskel/Jaskier, 12k) by @jennyloggins, art by @jerry-of-rivia

His horse is tied to a branch a few trees out, and that’s where Eskel heads to grab his water skein, taking a deep drink and soothe his dry throat. Patting his horse’s backside affectionately on his way past her, Eskel feigns a stern voice to say, “Zuzanna, keep watch for me.” Her tail twitches as if to swat him away. Fic || Art

Everything I Want (I Can Find in You) by @eyesofshinigami, art by @phoenixandjacob

Eskel didn't think he'd ever see Jaskier again, sure the Cat witcher was only looking for a night of fun. But then he keeps showing up, taking Eskel to bed and leaving him little presents. It takes Eskel a bit, but eventually he realizes that maybe, just maybe, Jaskier means it when he says he wants to keep him. Or Eskel doesn't think he deserves nice things and Jaskier is determined to show him otherwise. Fic || Art

One Stop Shop; Tattoo's Piercings, And Love (M, Eskel/Jaskier/Lambert, 7.4k) by @jesheckah, art by @moondrunkart

When Eskel fumbles an invitation at a party to come into his tattoo shop, Jaskier and he move towards an explosive love. How many tattoo sessions does it take for the heart to know what it wants? Fic || Art

Entanglement (and other words for a mess) (E, Eskel/Geralt/Jaskier, 31k) by @violaceum-vitellina-viridis, art by @merpancake

Eskel has a hundred marks on his body, but a soulmark isn't one of them. Fic || Art

Beneath Each Other's Bones (E, Eskel/Geralt, 7.6k) by @pressedinthepages, art by @drachedraws

Winter at Kaer Morhen can be brutal. But Eskel and Geralt find warmth in each other in an effort to stave off the cold. Fic || Art (1) (2)

#9fe2bf on the Shore (T, Eskel/Jaskier, 4.5k) by @buffskierights, art by @phoenixandjacob

The sea roars with a vengeance, something angering the waves even as the stars shine brightly overhead in the clear night sky. If Eskel were a poet he’d say it almost sounded like a wail of mourning, the way the whitewater crashes upon the night black sand and the gathering foam, the sea frothing furiously. But Eskel’s always hated his poetry lessons so being a poet is firmly off the table. Fic || Art

lion in the wolf's den (T, Coen/Eskel, 5k) by @patchwork-doublet, art by @justhereforeskel

eskel is nervous being around ciri, afraid things will go south like they did last time. Fic || Art

Sugar Baby Blues (E, Eskel/Jaskier, 24k) by adevinecomedy, art by @pastelrune

Jaskier’s mind slipped back to a night several months ago when he was all worked up but had nowhere to go and a mountain of school work to get through. How it was just so much easier to log onto a camming website and watch someone perform seemingly just for him. The gorgeous, confident man on the other side of the screen had been so accommodating, even though Jaskier had been shy and hadn’t typed much into the chat. Modern au where Eskel is a Cam boy and runs into a bit of a financial bind. Enter Jaskier who just might be the answer to all his woes. Fic || Art

Winter Comfort (T, Eskel/Jaskier, 10k) by @myidlehand, art by @liaonyxrayne

Jaskier comes to Kaer Morhen to spend some time with Eskel, after briefly meeting him in the fall. And while both of them seem delighted to see each other again, Eskel starts to shy away from Jaskier's comments and flirting. It doesn't take a genius to see Eskel is having body image issue. Jaskier aims to help him through it. Fic || Art

The Subtle Knife (M, Eskel/Jaskier, 26k) by @major-trouble, art by @cylin-aka-ankamo

There's an assassin haunting the Continent. No one knows their name, everyone - that is, everyone in the know - calls them The Specter. If you want a rival out of the way, a political opponent disposed of, or a strategic target taken out, contacting The Specter gets the job done. For a price, of course. There's an art to subtlety, after all, and it wouldn't do to risk the attention of law enforcement. So there's no obvious cause, no knife to the back, and the deaths aren't usually remarked upon. The Kaer Morhen Agency, however, has noticed. One of their agents has been hired to protect potential victims, people scared that they've been targeted. And they have reason to worry. When Eskel's first assignment winds up dead of no discernible cause, it starts him on a search for the elusive Specter, hoping against hope to track down the assassin before they're hired again. Setting a trap for a ghost is something Witchers are used to. Setting one for a trained killer may prove beyond them. Fic || Art

No Funny Business (M, Eskel/Jaskier, 11k) by goldendaydreams, art by @nanero11

Eskel had long given up on finding his soulmate, his soulmark nothing but scar tissue from a house fire he’d survived as a child. Knowing that most people wait for their perfect someone, their destiny, didn’t stop him from falling in love with Jaskier, the nurse he met after a hunt gone wrong. Fic || Art

Stronger Than My Storm (E, Eskel/Geralt) by @rawrkinjd, art by @nol-nol

Eskel and Geralt were friends from the very beginning. They added the benefits later. It was another way to offer comfort and companionship when the rest of the world closed in around them, and Eskel was content with it for years. Until he wakes up one day and realises it’s become something more. He touches Geralt’s silver hair, wreathed in a halo of yellow sunlight, and allows himself to feel the cracks spreading through his heart. Witchers can’t love each other. It would only lead to suffering. Eskel realises he must weather the storm inside or let Geralt go forever. Fic || Art

Full of Life (T, Eskel/Jaskier, 6.3k) by @sternenstaub28, art by @llwynbleidd

When Eskel gets hired to solve the case of people disappearing in town, she didn’t know she’d find a friend and maybe even something more. or Beauty and strength don't necessarily make your life easier, a companion and love however do. Fic || Art

choices are the hinges of destiny (T, Eskel/Geralt, 7.5k) by @lutes-and-dandelions, art by @cassandrasartworld

After rescuing a fae from the clutches of death, they repay Eskel by helping him make a choice. -oOo- A story about what would have happened if Eskel had claimed his child of surprise. Fic || Art

Eskel Vs The Continent (And His Feelings) (M, No Pairing, 47k) by @chibitabathasloves, art by @zmezagain

Eskel decides he needs to leave Kaer Morhen after the fight with the Hunt. Where will it take him? And will he be able to face his feelings he desperately tries to ignore. Fic || Art

lookin' to the sky to save me (T, Eskel/Geralt, 10k) by @torynickles, art by @trissmarrygoals

Geralt slides his hand from Eskel’s shoulder to his back. And then. Then he keeps moving it, outwards, away from Eskel’s torso, where there should be nothing but air, but— “What the fuck?” he chokes, because he can still feel Geralt’s hand, sensation where there should be none. He shakes his head wildly, twisting his arm to reach for his own back. His fingers connect to something, but—it’s not his body, it can’t be his body, even though he can feel himself touching it. Because he’s made up of skin and flesh, bone and muscle, and this thing has all of those, but— It’s covered in sticky, damp feathers. Fic || Art

A Fine Night at the Faire (M, Eskel/Geralt/Jaskier, 12k) by Elensule, art by @liaonyxrayne

Eskel has been hurt by the world and hides for refuge in his little goat farm. He's found no reason to look for love, or much of anything else. But encouragement from his brother sends him to an unfamiliar locale; the renfaire! Maybe stepping out of his comfort zone was just what he needed. Fic || Art

[shangsclaws]

Kuai, scorpion, Fujin and Shang's reaction to their s/o giving them chocolate on Valentine's day. BONUS: they give their s/o chocolates in return on white day!

omg i didn’t think you’d mention Shang (my beloved hehe) this’ll be fun 🥴

Kuai Liang/Sub Zero

Admittedly, Kuai will forget it’s Valentines when the day arrives. Lucky for him, he’s not the one giving the chocolates. Rather embarrassed (and without outwardly saying so), he’ll be relieved that his s/o reminded him through the gift.

He seldom eats any sweets, if at all. The box will run out quickly, however, as he has them when he’s stressed out. He likes to think of his s/o when it comes to that, and so that means they’re on his mind 24/7, and that he indulges quite frequently.

Kuai will have to ask around about where to find chocolates for white day, as he’s never given chocolates as a gift before. He’s more keen on simple dates and flowers if anything else.

Either he’ll find the cheapest one and get sold by the cheesy label, or an overly expensive set of chocolates that really isn’t worth it. Either way, he’ll hope you enjoy them as much as he enjoyed your gift.

Hanzo Hasashi/Scorpion

Ah yes, Valentine’s Day. He doesn’t believe in giving extra love annually, he can do that all year, but why not indulge a little?

Hanzo has to chuck entire pieces into his mouth or else they’ll melt on his fingers — he can’t savour them. Otherwise, he really likes the feeling of chocolate quickly melting in his mouth. No other food does that for him.

These chocolates will go out quickly, not because he loves them so much to eat them in one sitting, but because letting it sit for long enough in the Shirai Ryu is like leaving them in the oven. He doesn’t want them to go to waste, so he’ll happily share it with you and other clan members.

Like Kuai, he doesn’t have sweets often, but he has tasted a greater assortment compared to the Lin Kuei. I have a feeling the Shirai Ryu make for fantastic cooks given their abilities with fire, and so his s/o should expect authentic Japanese desserts instead of simple chocolates on White day.

Fujin

Fujin is aware of Valentine’s Day. He won’t know about the tradition of giving chocolates though, as anything to do with food doesn’t really concern this immortal being. His s/o should still expect him to spoil them in any other way.

That said, he doesn’t need to eat. If this is his first time eating sweets, let alone foods, he won’t exclaim at how well the chocolates taste. He’ll kinda just nod and say it was nice of his s/o to give him a gift, lol

The real gift, as odd as it sounds, is treating him to anything but chocolate before/after the fact. It’s to put everything into perspective. Although his reaction is horrendously delayed, it’s worth it — he’ll be thanking his s/o profusely, saying the sweets tasted otherworldly.

Fujin won’t know what White day is, but that doesn’t mean he won’t gift his s/o treats when he’s gotten his. It will just come sooner than the specific day, if not immediately after the gift’s been given. His spoils will be anything but food though (think lots of tlc, wink wink), as he’s not familiar with it yet.

Shang Tsung

He isn’t a glutton for chocolates, but he sure does miss them. Working in Outworld for so long, he might even forget that it’s Valentine’s Day.

It will take him quite a while to go through the entire box as his souls alone can sustain him, but that just means savouring every piece down to its very atom.

Shang won’t buy chocolates for his s/o on White day, as Outworld delicacies, in his experience, taste much better. His special someone should expect exotic sweets, some that might go as far as being infused with magic (or aphrodisiacs...don’t @ me).

Or, as he is also an inventor, his s/o might find themselves delighting in sweets of his own design. They’ll taste fantastic, and Shang will beam from ear to ear.