#a snippet before i lose my mind a little

[thedeathdeelers]

dreams (on ao3)

he dreams of her again.

only problem is: he doesn’t actually know who she is.

it’s more of a feeling than anything else….this desperate ache in his chest making him restless — like he should be reaching out towards someone — running towards her.

he wakes up in a cold sweat every night, water droplets running down his face and the back of his neck as he sits up in a panic. he takes in one deep breath after another, struggling to calm his racing heart.

sunjae squeezes his eyes shut, pressing a hand against his chest.

the pang of fear that had woken him up was starting to subside, but he couldn’t fully shake it off.

why were these dreams haunting him? who was he so desperately trying to catch up to? to find?

and why did they have such a visceral effect on his heart?

he tries hard to remember the dark shadows in his dreams, the blurry figure as it sunk deeper and deeper away from him, but the harder he tries, the less he remembers.

sunjae shakes his head as he lets his eyes ease open. what was he doing?

it was just a dream. a nightmare.

it must be the script, he tells himself resolutely — the story in that damn script was haunting him even in his dreams.

he thinks of the crazy woman who was behind it all, and barely notices the soft pang in his heart at the thought of her as he slowly eases back into a sleeping position.

his last incoherent thoughts as he drifts back to sleep are of yellow umbrellas and summer kisses.

odd, he thinks as he turns to his side and gives into the dark pull of unconsciousness once more, he’s never had a girlfriend in the summer.

[sttoru]

·.⌇ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. you leave megumi with your husband so you can make them breakfast. you quickly realise that that might have backfired.

wc. around 1.3k

tags. dad!toji x wife!female reader. fluff. reader gets called ‘mama’ by both toji & megumi. half beta read.

“ow, careful there, brat.”

your husband’s deep voice echoes from within the bathroom. you’ve left megumi in his care this morning so you’d be able to make breakfast in peace. toji was all grumpy about it, since he had to wake up early when he had no work, but eventually agreed to your proposal.

you hum your favorite song while frying eggs. the sizzling in the pan did help avert your attention from toji’s grunts of annoyance somewhere in the distance, though only for a couple seconds. your hear your child’s laughter slip between the noises of aggravation. it piques your interest.

“one more time and i’m putting y’r ass in time out,” toji’s deep voice sounds muffled. he sounds rather serious about whatever is bothering him.

you turn the stove off and walk towards the hallway, standing at the doorframe as you look in the direction of the bathroom. you tilt your head and try your best to pick up on snippets of the conversation between your husband and son.

the sound of bottles dropping on the floor is the first thing that allows you to guess that megumi’s acting up. you know how mischievous your little toddler can get, especially at his age. toji isn’t one to gentle parent his kid—he tries to, of course, but sometimes he can’t help but be a bit rough.

“megumi fushiguro.”

you raise your eyebrows as toji uses your child’s full name. he rarely does, only when he’s really upset or about to lose his marbles. you decide to see what was going on for yourself. you walk towards the bathroom, cleaning your hands against the material of your apron. you knock once before pushing the door open.

you stick your head through the little gap, ready to identify the cause of the commotion. the first thing you notice is the chaos on the floor; bottles, tubes, toothbrushes, and all other kinds of products lay cluttered on the bathroom tiles.

your eyes then land on your husband’s broad and scarred back, “hey, honey. did something hap—”

your voice trails off once toji turns around, revealing the jaw dropping scene. nearly his entire face is covered in loads of shaving cream and even his black hair hasn’t escaped the soft foam.

the bathroom counter is completely wet, and the water runs down the edges in small drops. the culprit of this entire scene is sitting right on that same counter, clapping his dirty hands together that were smeared with toji’s shaving cream.

you blink and walk towards the two. you can’t possibly be mad at the sight, finding toji’s situation more funny than worrisome. You try to act serious and clear your throat, “uh, yeah. so what’s happened here?”

your husband rolls his eyes and nods his head at the little boy in front of him, who’s giggling and kicking his legs. toji tries to wipe the shaving cream from his nose, attempting to get it out of his hair as well, “i tried to be a good dad and include him in my morning routine, that’s what.”

the man clicks his tongue as he now realises how dumb of a mistake that was, “gave him the opportunity to put some shaving foam on my jaw ‘n the brat totally blew it. started attackin’ me with the stuff.”

toji grumbles. he wipes away the foam that got on the mirror afterwards. it’s nearly gotten everywhere. he lightly nudges megumi’s forehead with a scoff, “never again, y’hear? the little shit can’t sit still for even one second.”

that explains the stuff on the floor. you know that megumi could grow bored easily if he isn’t the centre of attention. he’d start doing anything to be the focus of his parents. toji probably didn’t pay him much mind, wanting to get his morning routine over with.

“language, honey.” you sigh and look down at megumi who’s still reaching his messy hands up to his dad.

toji huffs and leans back, not giving the little boy a chance to put more shaving cream on his face. he’s learnt his lesson; kids do not understand it when you tell them to ‘only put a little bit’.

megumi whines and threatens to throw a tantrum. you notice that immediately and try to keep his mind off things by picking him up. you turn on the faucet and try to wash his little hands, “c’mon. give mama your hands.”

the little boy shakes his head furiously, squirming in your embrace in attempt to get away. you sigh and grab his little wrists gently. you lower him to the sink, trying your best to wash away the shaving cream as the first step of solving this grande mess.

“no, mama!” megumi is stubborn as he voices his complains. toji watches from a distance whilst he struggles to clean the overload of shaving cream from his face.

you make the mistake of letting go of your child’s wrists to grab a washcloth. megumi takes his chance and pats his messy hands against your face, leaving you no space to process what he’s doing.

your mind takes a second before you realise what’s happening, “hey! quit it, ‘gumi.”

you try to grab ahold of megumi’s tiny hands again, but they move too fast for you. plus, he’s pretty skilled at avoiding yours. you can feel the foam slowly cover your entire face; from your jaw and cheeks, to your nose and forehead.

it was inevitable at this point.

“toji, do something,” you grunt and struggle to contain the energetic toddler in your arms. you take a peek at your husband and find him grinning at the predicament you’ve gotten yourself in.

toji simply shrugs and enjoys the fact that you’re experiencing exactly what he had experienced just moments ago. seeing you struggle to contain your disobedient child only proves that his parenting skills are not the problem in this situation, your toddler is.

“ye did that to y’rself, mama.” toji hums in amusement. he leans against the wall, the blue towel now loosely hanging off head after he’s given up on getting the foam out of his hair, “now y’know what i’m talkin’ about. he’s a lil’ monster.”

megumi squeals in victory after he’s gotten both his parents covered in shaving cream. you want to say something to your child, but you’re at a loss for words. even now, you cannot bring yourself to be mad at him. he’s just a kid who’s having fun with his parents.

“i made mama pretty! hehe.” megumi grins and encourages you to look in the mirror. he points at your reflection and awaits the words of confirmation. his blue eyes look up at you, nearly sparkling with joy, admiring how pretty he’s made you look with that white foam all over your face.

toji joins in on the fun. he comes to stand behind you, looking at you through the mirror. he snickers, already forgotten about his irritations that occurred in the first place. he nods in approval at megumi’s words, “gotta agree, son. y’r mama looks much prettier like this.”

your husband’s teasing comment adds fuel to the fire. though again, you cannot bring yourself to be upset at the situation.

you look at the reflection in the dirty mirror. you all may appear disheveled due to the foamy mess on your bodies—and yet even at that moment—the only thing you actually manage to see is a happy family of three.

[weirdrandomtina]

So, I experienced some deju vu during this scene in Trolls Band Together:

John Dory grabs his backpack, says he's leaving (I'm done, YOLO, etc.), and then the last thing he says is "Goodbye Forever!", followed by Branch's distraught face, and the next thing Branch knows, all his brothers have left him and he never sees them again.

I was trying to figure out why that little snippet stuck with me, then it hit me:

Trolls Holiday in Harmony, when Branch is trying to figure out a gift for Poppy. He's worried about doing the wrong thing, disappointing her or freaking her out, and says "I CAN'T let that happen". He illustrates his point with Poppy packing a suitcase, and what does she say right before she runs off?

Really brings his abandonment issues into the light😢

I've seen a few comments of people being annoyed when Branch said to Poppy "aren't you going to leave me anyway", but they clearly don't understand how trauma affects people's mental and emotional state.

He knows Poppy loves him and doesn't actually believe she'd leave, but after a lifetime of being alone, even though he's happy and loved now, there's still that subconscious fear that he'll end up alone again. Poppy means everything to him, and he can't bear the thought of losing her too, especially as a result of something he's done (his grandma died to save him, and he believed his brothers leaving was his fault because he 'ruined everything' at the concert).

Sometimes this results in Branch trying to push Poppy away, which seems conflicting, yes, but again: trauma messes with your mind. He was already heartbroken and angry at his brothers, so he wasn't thinking clearly and blurted out his hidden main fear.

And when he says "everyone else [leaves me]" I hear "everyone in my life has left me so I must deserve to be alone, so you might as well leave me too."

And that's probably why Branch was so hesitant to be open with Poppy - 1. I might scare her away, and 2. why bother expressing my feelings to someone when I'll likely just lose them anyway. Plus he's still getting used to having someone to confide to in his life. Keeping emotions bottled up for years is a hard habit to get out of.

[dixons-sunshine]

Just A Bad Dream | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

*GIF isn't mine.*

Summary: Despite being together for over a year, Daryl had never once uttered those three important words to you. You had never let it bother you, choosing to move at the archers preferred pace. One night, after a particularly bad dream, was when those important words were uttered to you.

Genre: Angst to fluff.

Era: Alexandria, post Saviour arc, pre the building of the bridge.

Warnings: Nightmares.

Word count: 1k.

A/n: Working on transferring all of my projects from my old phone to this one, so I wrote this little snippet instead to have something to post. Hope y'all like it! This was inspired by a post I saw on my dash but I don't know who made the original post.

➳༻❀✿❀༺➳

“No. Please, no! Dun' hurt her, please!”

Stirred from your slumber by your partner's distressed mumbling, you turned over in the bed. You slowly rubbed the sleep from your eyes, clearing the sleep induced fog from your mind before turning your head towards the sleeping archer beside you.

Your heart clenched in pain at the sight of distress evident on his face. His eyes were scrunched tightly and his eyebrows were furrowed into a deep frown. His breathing was erratic and there was sweat rolling down his temple.

While deciding whether or not to gently shake Daryl awake, Daryl bolted upright in bed. “No!”

“Daryl?” you spoke softly, sitting up slowly and placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. However, it seemed as though he was still stuck in a daze, because he jerked away from your touch, whipping his head to stare at you with wide eyes.

“Daryl, baby, it's okay! It's just me. It's just me. You're okay. You're here with me,” you reassured him in a soft voice, slowly placing your hand on his shoulder again. When he didn't flinch away this time, you brought both of your hands up to cup his cheeks. “You're okay.”

Daryl slowly nodded, his breathing sounding choked off. Unwillingly, a tear slipped from his glossy eyes, and you gently wiped it away with your thumb. Acting on instinct, Daryl moved forward and wrapped his arms around you, dropping his head onto your shoulder. A sob wracked through his body, causing your heart to break into a million pieces for the man who you loved dearly.

You placed a small, tender kiss to his temple, slightly rocking your bodies from side to side. You simply held Daryl in your arms and allowed him to cry it out, acutely aware of the fact that he rarely, if ever, cried. His emotions bottled over and this one particular nightmare was his breaking point. Whatever the nightmare was about, it must've been terrible for the strong archer to break down.

“He killed ya,” Daryl finally told you in a broken whisper, his voice cracking towards the end. “He killed ya and I couldn't stop him.”

“Who?” you gently urged, rubbing your hand soothingly over his back, hoping to bring him some comfort.

Daryl shook his head, tightening his arms around you. “I dun'—I dun' know,” he whispered with a strain in his voice, sniffling slightly. “It was Negan at first, but then it was my father, and after a while I couldn't tell 'em apart anymore. One of 'em brought that fuckin' bat over yer head and I had to watch. I couldn't stop him. I can't lose ya, I can't—”

You pressed another kiss to his head, holding the back of his head gently as he buried his head deeper into your shoulder. His tears were staining your—technically his—shirt, but you didn't even notice. Your only focus at that moment was to try and calm the archer down. To reassure him that it was only a nightmare, that you were okay.

“Daryl, hey. Look at me,” you softly urged him, watching carefully as he slowly lifted his head and looked into your eyes. “I'm okay. I'm right here. It was only a nightmare. Your father's dead and Negan is locked up. He might as well be dead. Neither of them will ever get to me or anyone else ever again.”

Daryl nodded, his eyes casting downwards. “I know. S'jus'... M'scared,” he admitted, bringing one of his hands up to wipe the tears from his eyes. “I can't lose ya. I jus' can't. I won't survive if somethin' happened to ya.”

“You won't lose me,” you reassured him, pulling him into your arms. Slowly and carefully, you lowered yourself down until you were laying back on the bed, Daryl now comfortably laying on your chest. “I promise you, nothing will happen to me. I won't go anywhere near Negan. You're stuck with me for the rest of your life, Dixon.”

Daryl chuckled softly, burying his head deeper into your chest. “I like the sound of tha',” he mumbled, pressing a kiss to your chest. He sighed in content when he felt your fingers begin to thread through his hair, closing his eyes at the comforting feeling.

In no time at all, Daryl was yawning, eliciting a fond giggle from you. “Go to sleep, baby. I promise I'll be here when you wake up.”

Daryl nodded and allowed his body to relax, willing his mind to shut off. You were okay. He was okay. His father is dead and couldn't terrorize him anymore. Negan wasn't dead, but he was locked up and couldn't get out. Everything was starting to get better.

As he was being lulled into slumber, he let a confession fall from his lips, something he should've told you long ago:

“I love ya.”

You smiled softly down at him, pressing a soft kiss against his forehead. You had waited for a long time to hear those three important words from him. Deep down, you always knew Daryl loved you, but hearing it from the man himself finally confirmed it. Your heart swelled with love, and you couldn't believe how lucky you had gotten with this beautiful man.

“I love you more, Daryl Dixon.”

You didn't know whether he had heard you or not. Everything was silent after you had said that. The warm press of Daryl's body against yours and the reassuring rise and fall of his chest lulled you into sleep as well. However, right before darkness overtook you, you heard him mumbling one last thing.

“I love ya the most, sunshine.”

[sarahscribbles]

𝐔𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐥 𝐍𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐓𝐢𝐦𝐞

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞𝐝 𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐋𝐨𝐤𝐢'𝐬 𝐩𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐭 𝐛𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐞𝐟𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐞𝐥𝐝, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐢𝐝𝐧'𝐭 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬 𝐚𝐬 𝐚 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐞

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐓𝐕𝐀!𝐋𝐨𝐤𝐢 𝐱 𝐟!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: 𝐒𝐦𝐮𝐭

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟐.𝟗𝐤

𝐀𝐍: 𝐈 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐡𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐝𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬, 𝐬𝐨 𝐢𝐭'𝐬 𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐲 𝐈'𝐦 𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐲.

𝐋𝐨𝐤𝐢 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

You hear the sharp sound of Loki’s footsteps on the atrium floor roughly twenty minutes after slipping the note undetected into his coat pocket. 

“You’re too chicken to fuck me in public,” you had scrawled across the yellow TVA issued notepaper, feeling a heat begin to form between your thighs with each stroke of your pen. 

Was he too chicken, though? You aren’t sure what you and Loki are exactly, but heaven help you you’re enjoying the secret trysts in broom cupboards and bathrooms. It’s what spawned the idea to write him the note - the fact that all your hook ups have been in secret away from prying eyes. 

It was meant to do nothing but tease him, to poke the proverbial bear, but with how quickly and forcefully his footsteps are approaching from behind, you fear you may have flown too close to the sun.

Your heart begins to thump wildly in your chest with each step he takes, and you lose track of what the analysts huddled around you are discussing. Vaguely, you catch snippets of their concern over yet another variant causing havoc on the Sacred Timeline, but their voices fade to a faint drone when the familiar scent of cinnamon and patchouli wraps around you. 

Each quiet inhale of his scent sends an addictive giddiness zipping through your veins. You imagine him slipping his hands in his pockets and feeling the sharp edges of the note - had he just stepped through the Time Door on another assignment with Mobius? Or had he only found it while they were already in the field? How long has he been stewing over that single, teasing sentence and assembling, to him, a suitable consequence?

It has you fighting not to squeeze your thighs together where you stand.

“Terribly sorry!” That familiar, smooth voice rolls over you only seconds later, and you feel two firm hands grip your shoulders. “I’m afraid I have a very pressing issue that requires one of the best minds in the TVA! I’ll have her back in a jiffy!”

Before you can even draw breath to object Loki’s fingers are curling possessively around your upper arm. His pace is frantic as he steers you through Chrono Bay Three, so much so that it really does look like the future of the TVA rests on your shoulders. 

You know different, though. 

You know that, beside you, is a man with enough pent up sexual energy to power a small town. 

It’s exhilarating to see what you do to him. From your place at his side, you can see the tense way he’s holding that strong jaw; you can see how his free hand is curled into a half fist, and you can feel the flex of his fingers through the material of your shirt like he’s itching to get his hands on your bare skin. 

Again. 

“So, what’s this pressing issue that requires my brilliant mind?” you tease him as he continues to pull you through the deserted atrium. “Are the threads of time disintegrating as we speak? Has Miss Minutes gone rogue?” 

You swear that the corner of his mouth quirks, just a little bit, and, for a second, all you want to do is make him laugh. 

Loki’s pace doesn’t falter even for a second as he keeps weaving you both through the intricate halls of the TVA, but he turns briefly to flash you that devilish grin. “Do you really wish to do this, darling? After that little stunt you just pulled?”

Something lurches to life in your stomach, but you forcibly will it down. This is all just a little bit of fun, really. A little bit of excitement in the otherwise boring days of being an analyst. What better way to liven things up than with this man with those beautiful green eyes and the…

No.

Not this time. 

You’re, ironically, saved from any further traitorous thoughts by the very subject of them. Loki comes to an almost comical stop beside that ridiculous “minimise chat in the cafeteria please” sign that’s become a favoured inside joke between you and Mobius, in large part due to the weary sigh it garners from Loki. He throws a casual glance at the handful of other agents milling around - none of whom seem remotely interested in either of you - and yanks you through a door with a sign that reads “Authorised Personnel Only.”

Although the corridor he’s pulled you into looks just like every other corridor in the labyrinth of the TVA, you recognise this as one you’re not overly familiar with. Does this one lead to Repairs and Advancement? Or is this the shorter route to the Automat? You aren’t sure. 

What you are sure of is that it isn’t very wide. 

You turn to face Loki as the door snaps shut. Even under the harsh yellow lights running overhead, he still manages to look every inch the handsome god that he is. It’s both infuriating and exhilarating. 

“A stunt?” you whisper with feigned disbelief. “Who would dare to try the God of Mischief?”

Loki takes two steps to the side so he’s standing directly in front of you at what counts as the “other side” of the corridor. One hand is deep in his trouser pocket while the other rises from his side. Between two elegant fingers sits your little note. “Care to explain?”

An impish smile curls across your face in tandem with your heart beginning to thump wildly in your chest. “Oh, that! I meant to slip that to the new Minuteman this morning. You know, the tall one with the blonde hair? Whoops.”

The god in front of you doesn’t smile. Instead, he inhales slowly, deeply, and locks those hypnotising green eyes with yours. “I thought we had addressed this little issue last week? Do I need to put you over my knee again?”

You swallow silently and make a valent effort to ignore the heat that’s rising to a crescendo between your thighs. The last time Loki had held you over his knee you hadn’t been able to sit comfortably for three days. It hadn’t been the first time and you pray it won’t be the last. 

“Don’t threaten me with a good time, Your Highness.” You smirk at him, knowing how much he loves this.

The quirk of his lip is barely perceptible, blink and you would have missed it. He takes two silent steps forward, closing the remaining distance until he’s looming over you. He’s so deliciously close that you could easily get drunk on the scent of him and on the mix of mischief, desire and lust that’s swirling in those pretty green eyes. 

A lavender haze of raw arousal has settled around you like a blanket, twisting tighter and tighter with each second Loki stays silent. His lips are quirked in a half smirk that makes you desperate to know what’s going on in that devilish mind of his, to know what concoction of pleasure and pain he’s cooked up to make you pay for your brattiness. 

It’s foolish, though, to think you’ll ever be able to guess his next move. 

You become overly aware of the wall at your back when he reaches out a thumb and forefinger to grip your chin. It’s a soft touch, but there’s no denying the jolt of electricity that rushes through every vein and pore. 

Because that’s what Loki is; he’s electrifying. 

“On your knees, Agent. Now.” His voice rolls over you low and smooth, but there’s a clear undertone of dominance flowing beneath each word. 

A thrill of excitement shoots along your spine, but it leaves something else in its wake. Something that feels oddly like nerves. 

“Here?” you question him, turning panicked eyes to the rows of doors lining both sides of the corridors. “But…Loki, there are people here!”

Loki answers you with a raising of his brow. “Oh, I do beg your pardon. Perhaps you’re too chicken to be fucked in public?” He throws your own taunt back at you. 

Something in you bristles and you curse your nervous outburst. He has quite enough to hold over your head. “You wish. I do this all the time,” you lie. 

His face is impossible to read. “Then why am I waiting? On your knees.” 

He expects you to obey and the threat of what will happen if you don’t hangs heavily in the air. Normally, you’d want to keep pushing his buttons to see just how far you could push him, your ass be damned, but you’re so completely under his spell that you fall to your knees after only half a second of defiance. 

A satisfied smirk curls across Loki’s face. “There. See how much easier it is when you obey, sweet girl?” he purrs, using those sinfully long fingers to tuck some hair behind your ears. 

“Don’t get used to it,” you shoot back before you can help yourself. 

Loki’s answering laughter is short but genuine. “I wouldn’t be so foolish.” 

His hand curling around your skull is a sign that the talking is over. He holds you there firmly in place while his other hand works at the belt and zipper of his trousers. In several seamless movements, he frees himself from the black boxers he’s wearing underneath, and you feel the slightest pressure on the back of your head as he pushes it forward.

“Open,” Loki orders, curling a hand around his cock and guiding it to your lips. 

They part obediently and he wastes no time in feeding you his cock inch by inch. It’s becoming familiar to you now - the taste of him on your tongue and the musky scent that quickly wraps around you - and yoi’ve done this enough times before to know how much he loves when you run the tip of your tongue along the underside of his cock. 

As expected, you’re rewarded with a soft moan and the feel of his fingers flexing in your hair. It only serves to embolden you. 

Loki’s eyes drift closed as he savours the warm wetness of your mouth around him, and you take the opportunity to take as much of him as you can into your mouth, refusing to stop until the tip of his cock slips down your throat. With teary eyes you hold it as long as you can until you feel your throat start to convulse with the need for air. Only then do you pull back off him until just the tip rests between your lips. 

“Fuck! You divine creature!” Loki rasps out, curling his hand even tighter in your hair. “Keep going! That’s my good girl.” 

You eagerly obey. 

Ignoring the ache that’s beginning in your knees and the quiet hum of voices from behind several of the doors, you focus your attention solely on getting this man off. You do everything that you know he loves - you swirl your tongue hungrily around his tip and lick the aching length of him until his hand flies out to slam into the wall with a groan. 

“Faster !” he grunts, and when you peer up at him, you see him slowly coming apart piece by piece. 

That beautiful face is contorted in pleasure and several black curls have fallen haphardly around his shoulders. He’s panting and moaning like a whore, causing your eyes to dart frantically back and forth between him and the doors behind.

But it’s no longer fear that’s pumping through your blood. It’s raw, hot arousal. 

Loki won’t last much longer, but just when you begin to drive him towards release, he pulls his cock free from between your lips.  “Enough,” he says huskily. “On your feet.” 

Shakily, and with Loki’s help, you climb to your feet, but you barely have a second to appreciate the relief before his lips crash against yours. His kiss is hungry and dominating and, at the same time his tongue slips into your mouth, a hand is pulling your leg around his waist and pushing the brown material of your skirt around your hips.

“Tell me you were wrong,” he pants, hot and heavy against your lips. “Say it.”

“I…I was wrong,” you say as his skilled hands make short work of your underwear. 

“Yes. You were,” Loki taunts, “and I’m going to show you just how wrong right here in this corridor.”

One long finger begins to circle your clit at the same time the blunt head of his cock presses against your soaked cunt. You’re aching for him - you have been since the last time he had pulled you into Time Theatre Four - but Loki only slides his cock through your wetness.

“Fucking hell!” you whimper, reaching out to grab his shoulder through the thick material of his pea coat. “Loki, enough. Just fuck me, please!” 

You see a flash of white teeth before he rolls his hips, sinking his cock into you in one smooth thrust. It’s been so long since he’s filled you that a shameless moan slips from your lips before you can stop it and echoes down the empty hallway. 

You snap your mouth closed and look to Loki with panicked eyes, but he only gives you that infuriating smirk. “I hope you can be sufficiently quiet, little mouse. We’re in quite the compromising situation.”

“Fuck you,” you murmur, but press down on his ass with your foot to coax him into moving. 

Loki chuckles and thrusts into you once more, forcing you to bite your cheek to stop from crying out. “You do have such a way with words.”

His fingers stay at your clit as he thrusts his cock into you over and over. It’s enough to send you dizzy and you grip his shoulders for dear life, but it’s impossible not to let them drift into his curls. They’re soft and silken between your fingers - like they always are - and you’re rewarded with the same deep groan when you twist them around your finger and tug. 

It’s something you accidentally discovered that night Loki had taken you on top of one of the desks in the library - he enjoys having his hair pulled. It’s a small slice of knowledge that you filed away, and it only made you eager to discover what other filth this man got off on. 

Loki, it seems, is just as kinky as you are. 

“How is it…that you feel better…every time?” he pants and slams into you with such force that you can’t swallow your cry of pleasure. 

“Just part of my charm,” you answer on a single breath, though it’s a breath that’s quickly lost to you as Loki increases the pressure on your swollen clit. 

He builds you up expertly, and the tiny ripples of pleasure that begin to ripple in your core are like no other. Whatever this thing is between you and Loki, it’s ruined you for anyone else. 

Each thrust of his cock has the edge crest ever closer, and every pant and groan that escapes his lips has you clenching down harder around him. 

But it’s right when you feel the first swells of your orgasm that the scraping of chairs begins behind a door only a few feet away. 

You look to Loki wildly, but the asshole only waggles his eyebrows at you. “I’d say you have about two minutes to cum, Agent,” he whispers wickedly in your ear. 

You whine and tug him closer, willing your orgasm to wash over you before the door opens. You’re too pent up, too desperate to be left dangling on the edge today.

“One minute,” Loki taunts, though it’s questionable if he’ll last that long.

Maybe it’s from how relentlessly he’s fucking you and the gloriously filthy way he’s grunting in your ear, or maybe it’s due to the exhilarating thought of being caught fucking this god in an open corridor, but your orgasm tears through you only seconds later, drowning you in a pleasure so intense that you bury your face in Loki’s shoulder to stop from crying out. 

It’s white hot and steals the breath from your lungs. You feel it from the very tips of your fingers to the tips of your toes. It’s a neverending tsunami that you would happily drown beneath again and again. 

Loki spills inside you moments later, panting your name and cupping your ass to keep you as close to him as physically possible. It’s a release so blinding that it leaves your ears ringing and your heart hammering in your chest, and you’ve barely come down off your high when your leg falls from Loki’s waist back to the ground. 

The afterglow of release settles around you like a pink cloud. Your chest is heaving as you stand boneless against the wall on shaky legs. It’s beyond you how they’re still supporting you in the wake of a climax so powerful that it’s robbed you of your ability to speak or to form a coherent thought. 

Though you aren’t sure if the feeling of relief is from the explosive orgasm he’s just given you or the fact that you managed to reach it before being caught. 

Your eyes drift lazily to Loki. He’s standing before you infuriatingly proud smirk as he tucks himself away and straightens the brown pea coat that you’ve nearly clawed off his shoulders. It only grows when he reaches out to straighten your skirt down just as a door opens several feet down the corridor. 

He takes a few steps backward to begin melting into the small crowd that emerges from within, but not without sticking his hands in his pockets and giving you a filthy wink. “Until next time, Agent.”

[thesherrinfordfacility]

this is going to be the speediest speculation you have ever seen in your life because it is gone 3am and im losing my mind BUT. this little snippet? from rob wilkins? well i think - i think - i found what he was referring to.

in the frame behind the bentley and aziraphale, it's clearly flooded. we know the set was built within a studio, so elemental factors can't be at play here - this is deliberate. and noone seems to notice it, but it's very neatly framed between the two.

now, let's consider references to flooding re: second coming. well, matthew was a bullseye:

"as it was in the days of noah", there will be a flood that arrives when the second coming does. it will be there before anyone knew it, and swept them away. ergo, i think we can assume that the second coming has in fact already happened (still think it's greasy but whatever)

but also look at the splitting of humanity; sound familiar to the final fifteen? one will be taken, and the other left? marrying and giving in marriage - failed in our boys' case 💀 but did nina set a timeline, saying "one day", when she's ready to be with maggie?

also - people eating and drinking? sounds familiar also, when you consider how ham they went on pushing the vol-au-vents, the tiny dinners (thanks jim) on people at the ball.

im not okay.

[mechanicalpiper]

Hey so I know your busy doing important things (And hearts out for whatever your doing) but I just had another idea come to mind that maybe you could put in a catalog for the future!

"Villain has just been defeated in a long battle by Hero and has decided to try a bit of seduction to win the day. However, Hero is Touch Starved to hell and back and cries at the slightest nice touch/caress"

Bonus points for some heart clenching fluff

Yours truly!

Cooper

You ever procrastinate so hard you start and finish an entirely different project?

By FAR the sappiest and most hurt/comfort-y I've done and was stupidly fun to write. Enjoy :3

Snippet #8

The sounds of strike after strike rang out through the empty city street.

Hero and Villain were once more locked in a tense brawl- nothing new, of course. It had become second nature to them by now- when you spend almost every other day scrapping with the same person for years, it's not hard to get used to it. Hell, with how familiar the two had gotten with each other's fighting styles by now, it was easy for either of them to just let their mind wander while they brawled if they just weren't feeling too up to it that day.

Hero was certainly having one of those days.

They semi-consciously blocked Villain's strikes and threw blows back, less like they were brawling for the safety of the city and more like they were doing a boring day job. An entirely different focus was on their mind... one that had stuck around for a while now. A thought? A worry? A feeling, or the lack of one? Hero couldn't tell by now.

They quickly ducked out of the way just in time as Villain threw a kick at their head, knocking them out of their train of thought and back into full consciousness.

Yeah, fuck, they were fighting Villain. Almost forgot.

Villain certainly took notice of their sudden attention. "Oh, THERE you are. C'mon, can't you at least focus? It's so much less fun when you zone out like that."

"Whuh-? Pff, fun? I'm here to stop you from committing murder, not for a little playdate." Hero grumbled back at their rival, still not fully back at attention.

"Hm. Certainly not the attitude from our first battle. Losing your touch, maybe?" Villain taunted back.

"You wish."

"I don't think I need to. You seem to be dulling just fine without help."

"Still sharper than you. I was winning without paying attention! You couldn't beat my subconscious, how do you expect to beat the rest of me?" As Hero shot back, a tiny smile began to form on their face. Wow, it's been a while since they've bantered in combat like this... it felt nice to just speak with someone, even if that someone was Villain, of all people.

"PFFFF. Winning? The only reason you're not bleeding out on the concrete right now is because I'm having fun with this. I spared you there, y'know~" Villain taunted, a confident grin on their face.

"Yeah, riiiight. How about you actually do something threatening before making simple empty thr-"

Hero was cut off by a sudden feeling- they brought a forearm up to block a strike from Villain, but instead of the expected punch, they felt a grab.

A... grab?

Hero froze in place for the slightest moment.

It was only a split second, but it felt like ages, as if their brain was desperately trying to to cling onto the brief moment. The slightest sensation.

Villain's touch was soft.

Yet, despite everything, the moment was still over far too quickly. Hero hardly even considered why Villain would go for a grab in the moment- by the time they processed the fact it was an attack, it was far too late.

Villain turned around to throw Hero against the concrete wall of the building behind them.

They let out a yelp of pain as they slammed backwards into the wall. After the touch, the motion of being thrown, the hard hit... Hero was far too disoriented to get back into action, let alone stay balanced. Unable to stand up, they just slid down against the wall with a small groan of pain until they found themself at a sitting position, defeated.

Villain let out a small, cocky giggle, stepping closer to Hero to look down at them.

Hero, while still rather disoriented, looked up to see Villain towering over them. ...Wow.

"Is that 'threatening' enough for you, sweetie~?" Villain taunted once more, looking down at the defeated Hero with cocky confidence. God, they loved the feeling of the weakened Hero looking up at them. Always felt nice to win against them.

Hero was already ignoring the pain.

Their brain latched onto that one word- one Villain didn't so much as emphasize saying, like it was nothing special.

Sweetie??

A pet name. A pet name??? Villain called them a pet name??? Sure, they've heard of it being used for taunting before, and really never thought much of it, but- but something about it felt so, so different. When was the last time they were acknowledged like that? Was there a last time? Why did just being acknowledged feel so good? Fuck, they shouldn't like this, they were beat up and lying against a wall with their arch nemesis towering over them, taunting them, but- but not k-killing them? It shouldn't feel... c-comforting, should it?...

...'Sweetheart'...

Villain just looked down at Hero, their cocky expression switched to mild confusion. They certainly didn't react like they were in much pain... Hero's face wasn't that red before, was it?

"Hm. Losing focus agai-"

Hero shook their head 'no' almost instantly, cutting Villain off in mild surprise. They were definitely paying attention, alright, but...

Villain slightly cocked their head at Hero, thinking for a moment. The pause was only a second or two, though. They were quick to get back to teasing, assuming they were simply overthinking a weird reaction.

"Hmmm~" they muttered, crouching down to get level with their defeated rival, keeping that same smug, satisfied look.

"See? I could've taken you out like that aaany time I wanted~"

Hero looked off to the side, as if trying to hide from the other's gaze- Villain's confidence only grew seeing the embarrassment they wanted out of Hero.

At least, what they saw as embarrassment. While that certainly was an aspect of it... it wasn't why Hero's attention diverted like that. Their thoughts weren't the feelings of humiliation and defeat Villain assumed.

An entirely different focus was on their mind.

A thought?

A worry?

A feeling, or the lack of one?

It could be any of them. It could depend on the circumstance. It could technically fall under every one of them, with the right logic.

Hero didn't know nor care.

All they knew is what it felt like right now.

It's a fear.

A fear of this. This emotion.

The first time in memory they've felt so... acknowledged, so strangely comfy- the only time they could have this feeling was when their nemesis was using it to taunt them. The only thing they were ever really seen or known for is their protection of the city. The Agency was obviously impersonal and corporate, other Heroes saw them as an antisocial business partner, the citizens of course only liked them for the protection, and they had nobody else outside of that despite their years of previous efforts.

The only value others saw in them was the tangible benefit they provided. The only value they saw in themself was just that. They so, so badly wanted this feeling of comfort, but they so, so deeply believed they didn't deserve it.

Believed the only way they could ever be worth loving is when it was a punishment like this.

All Villain saw was Hero looking off to the side. Zoning out again? They mumbled something to themself, leaning down just a little more.

Hero didn't always used to do that. It had them worried, honestly. It only began somewhat recently, but it was absolutely constant.

Villain felt bad. Yeah, their public motive was always money or power or whatever evil plot they had for the week would accomplish, and while those certainty were good benefits, they weren't the reason they did it.

They did it for Hero.

They weren't joking when they said they were messing with them for fun earlier. It started as just a want to fight, but the second they came across Hero, they couldn't keep themself away. At first it was simply their fighting style being fun, as Villain justified it to themself. Then the wit in their banter was more entertaining than others. Then they provided the biggest challenge. Then... well, Villain couldn't deny a sense of warmth when they were around Hero.

They had so much personality, so much energy, but as time passed it felt like they got less so. Villain was almost scared to watch it. Not because it was more fun to fight them, but rather... well, they had to admit to themself they just didn't want to see Hero so thoroughly unhappy. So sapped of life.

Villain took one hand and gently swooped it under Hero's chin, turning their head back to face them and lifting their chin a little. Hero flinched a little, but didn't pull back.

"Hey. Pay attention, sweetie."

Hero's breathing got slightly quicker. Shallower. Starting off subtle, it ramped up.

Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit, hOLY SHIT, HOLY SHIT.

The feeling of Villain's hand was the best thing they'd ever felt. In their life. They didn't know anything could be this soft, any temperature could be this comforting and warm, that any grip could be so firm yet gentle, that any gaze could be so powerful yet soft- they were completely hyperventilating, tears welling in their eyes. They didn't want to trust it, but they wanted the comfort too badly to treat this rationally. They'd never felt anything so unbelievably wonderful. They wanted it so, so bad.

Villain couldn't stop themself from gasping. They certainly weren't expecting that reaction, but seeing Hero just break down like that, they were absolutely overcome with the heat of the moment need to just... protect them. Comfort them.

Only a moment later, the two simultaneously fell into an impulsive hug.

Villain squeezed Hero tightly against them as Hero buried their face in Villain's shoulder. Hero completely stopped thinking about their doubts- only one thing mattered right now, and that was Villain. It was so unbelievably comfy, warm, happy, soft, safe... years of built up serotonin was flooding out all at once, and it only got better as Villain brought one hand up from the hug to run it through Hero's hair.

They'd never been this much of an absolute mess. They'd never been this happy in their life.

Villain just continued holding Hero tight.

Minutes passed. Neither wanted the moment to end.

But finally, after what felt like years, Hero's breathing finally began to get deeper again. Villain let out a relived sigh, though didn't quite let go yet, allowing Hero's tears to dry and breathing to fully steady. Villain stayed patient as Hero got calmer and calmer until their desperate squeeze against Villain finally relaxed.

Hero felt the safest they ever had, and Villain couldn't be happier. The idea that they were rivals didn't even cross either of their minds- it just felt so right.

"...How're you feeling?"

Hero answered in a quiet, vulnerable, satisfied whisper, more emotion in their voice than Villain had ever heard.

"...n-needed this."

For the first time in ages, an entirely new focus was on Hero's mind.

A thought?

A worry?

A feeling?

They were certainly leaning towards it being a feeling.

That feeling was love.

[ladytauria]

"tell me a secret" with jaytim if youre still taking prompts, been enjoying all of the snippets!

um.

so.

this one ran away with me. a little bit.

it's. it feels very messy. but i like the direction i ended up going with it. i think--- i think i might revisit this premise again. but for now, nonny, i hope you like it!

(also, i'm glad you enjoyed my snippets~)

There are few things worse than truth pollen, in Tim’s opinion. Give him fear gas or sex pollen any day of the week. Losing control of his tongue, confessions spilling from his mouth, helpless to do anything to stop it… It makes him shudder just to think about.

However—

He would gladly have taken a blast of truth pollen right to the face, if it meant Jason wouldn’t have.

Jason’s locked himself in an isolation cell, now, while Tim synthesizes an antidote. The general pollen vaccine had done little to help the effects of this strain. Confessions had tumbled from Jason’s lips all the way home, all through the blood draw. Tim tries hard not to think about them, to forget them completely, but they linger in the back of his mind. Whether he wants them to be or not, he knows they’ve been imprinted in the back of his mind, where they’ll be sorted and cataloged, brought out later if ever he needs them.

He never forgets. It’s something of a curse.

As soon as the antidote finishes, Tim sends it to Jason through a panel in the isolation cell. It should take an hour for it to kick in—Tim will be upstairs, whenever Jason is ready.

~

Two hours pass before Jason joins him. Tim sits at the kitchen island, hands around a mug. Steam still wafts up from it; his face warm and damp where it caresses his skin.

“That better not be coffee,” Jason says. He sounds even grumpier than usual—not that Tim can blame him.

He chooses not to comment on his mood, for the moment.

“It’s not,” he says. “It’s tea.” He pauses. “Herbal tea.”

Jason grunts. 

“There’s some for you on the counter.” He gestures.

Jason rounds the counter, finally coming into view. Tim’s shoulders loosen a little at the sight of him; curls and skin damp from a shower, cotton tee sticking to him. Sweatpants ride low on his hips. His socks have little gray cats on them.

“Did your cameras alert you I was coming up?”

Tim ignores the confrontational sneer in his tone. “No.”

For a moment, Jason’s body tenses like he’s going to challenge him on it—turn it into a fight, until one of them storms out or ends up sleeping in the guest room. Then he finds his tea, in a thermal traveling cup. The tension drains from him, then; weariness in the bow of his shoulders. He takes the cup and joins Tim at the island, settling onto the stool next to his.

Their shoulders brush. Tim knows it’s as close to an apology as he’ll get right now. He brushes against him again when he raises his mug to his mouth; a silent forgiveness.

Jason drinks his tea. He hums softly; a quiet, pleased noise.

They drink in silence. Tim wouldn’t describe it as comfortable, but the air isn’t as thick with tension as it could have been. He knew they would have to address it before they went to sleep; knew, for a while at least, that things would be… delicate. He’s not looking forward to walking on tiptoes—but it’s better than the alternative. It’s better than Jason leaving.

“We don’t have to talk about it,” Tim murmurs, finally. “I’m not— I won’t ask. We can pretend like you never said anything.”

Jason is quiet for a moment, and then he says, “Thank you.” It’s barely a whisper. Tim isn’t sure he would have heard it, if he hadn’t been listening for it.

He brushes against him again, as he gets up to put his mug in the sink. He smooths his hand over Jason’s back; from one shoulder to the other as he walks by—both touches a silent reassurance.

He puts his mug in the sink and stops by Jason again. This time, he kisses his temple. “I’m going to bed,” he murmurs. “Join me when you’re ready.”

Jason leans into his touch—turning, when Tim pulls away, to catch around the waist and pull him close. He kisses the corner of Tim’s eye. “I love you,” he murmurs.

Tim squeezes his forearm. “I love you too,” he breathes.

They stay like that for a moment—a long moment. And then, finally, Jason lets him go, smearing another kiss against his skin when he does. Tim lingers a moment more, and then he heads off to their bedroom.

It’s maybe ten, fifteen minutes before Jason joins him, curling up in Tim’s arms; letting Tim plaster himself against his back, sighing sweetly when Tim’s chin rests atop his curls. He tangles their fingers together over their stomach.

Tim falls asleep knowing everything is going to be okay.

~

Tim doesn’t just forget about it. He can’t—though he tries. The things Jason said turn over and over in his mind, every time there’s a lull at work, on patrol, in the quiet moments he spends with Jason. He keeps his word. He doesn’t ask about them. He doesn’t even go digging through Batman’s files, or the city’s files—although the temptation sits heavy on his shoulders.

Instead—he ends up thinking, again and again, about secrets.

About Jason’s. About his own. About all the things that sit, buried deep under his tongue, where he would never dare to speak them aloud. But the more he thinks about the more he sees them as cracks—fissures, things not sitting quietly in himself but things keeping them apart.

He finds himself wanting to dig them up. To look at them in the light, offer them to Jason; see if he finds even those parts of him worth loving.

He wants to do the same to Jason. To look at the ugliest parts of him again—this time without the wrongness of pollen coating them—and cradle them in his hands, tuck them in the spaces between his ribs. Soothe the hurts they left behind.

Tim knows Jason won’t let him.

But.

Tim has never needed reciprocation.

~

He starts offering them, impromptu, in their quiet moments.

“Sometimes I feel more like myself in a dress and heels than I do in a suit,” he confesses, while Jason is reading; Tim’s head in his lap while he plays on his switch. “I’ve thought about looking into it—but honestly. Exploring... that on top of everything else just sounds exhausting.” 

Jason pauses, fingers in Tim’s hair, and says, “If you ever want to, I’ll support you. I’ll love you, no matter what you decide.” 

Tim turns and kisses his stomach.

~

A few days later, they’re cooking together. Tim stirs noodles, while Jason chops vegetables. “The first time I dressed up as a woman, I looked so much like my mother I almost couldn’t leave the manor. I don't think I would have, if not for the mission.”

The knife pauses; the sound of chopping stops. “That must have been a lot,” Jason says, tentatively. 

Tim doesn’t have to look over to know Jason is giving him a weird look. He can feel it on the back of his head.

“It was,” he agrees. “Are you sure I salted this enough?”

~

His next confession is delivered when Tim is donning one of his aliases for an undercover job. Jason is sweet enough to do up his zipper for him.

“I created my first alias when I was seven. I mean, I guess it was more playing pretend, but... I dunno. It felt more serious than that, even then. I kept making more as I got older, trying them on... whenever I felt like it. Now it’s something I do as a hobby, to keep my skills sharp, but there was a time when I wanted to be anyone other than Tim Drake.”

Jason meets his eyes in the mirror; gaze unfathomable. “What changed?”

Tim’s lips quirk. “It’s hard to fall in love as anyone but yourself.”

The flush on Jason’s face is vivid red. Tim is helpless to do anything but turn and kiss him.

~

After a fight, Tim calls Jason. It goes straight to voicemail—not unexpected. It still makes his heart clench. He ignores it, instead offering, 

“Jason… I’m sorry, for what I said, earlier. It— It wasn’t true. I meant it when I said I can live with you killing. I don’t—I don’t… The truth is, I don’t disagree with your methods. I’m tempted to join you, sometimes. A lot of times. I’m tempted to go even further, too. I… Sometimes I think the only thing that keeps me from going bad is Dick’s disappointment. Bruce’s, too, but. I don’t care what he thinks as much anymore.

“Some days the temptation is stronger than others, though. And that— It scares me. I cling tighter to the rules in response. I… It’s not an excuse for me to hurt you, though. I’m sorry. I love you. Come home whenever you’re ready.” He’s crying when he finishes, hanging up the phone. Thinks about staying in the basement; distracting himself with cold cases instead of going to bed.

He decides he’s disappointed Jason enough.

Jason comes home that night. Slips into their bed, gathering Tim in his arms. 

“You could never go bad,” he whispers. “You’re too fucking good, Tim.”

Tim shakes his head, burying his face in Jason’s neck. “If I convinced myself it was right, or for a good cause…” He holds him tighter.

Jason is quiet. “Do you trust me?”

“Yes.” Tim doesn’t even hesitate.

“Then trust that I wouldn’t let you.”

Tim knows Jason has broken his own moral code more than once.

He also knows that Jason is far more careful with the people he loves than he is himself.

It’s a trait they share.

So he nods. “Okay.” 

“And you’ll do the same for me,” he says, softly—almost tentatively.

Tim holds him tighter. “Yes.”

He’s quiet for so long Tim thinks he falls asleep. Then, he offers, quietly, “Sometimes I think I’ll go too far, and— You’ll leave. Or that you’ll wake up one day, and realize I’m not going to change, that… That you can’t handle the killing after all. I don’t… I don’t want to lose you.” He doesn’t say, I thought I was losing you tonight, but Tim hears it anyway.

He kisses Jason’s neck. “You won’t,” he says, confidently. “But— If you ever do, or if it looks like you’re going to— I promise I’ll tell you. Warn you. I won’t just disappear without giving you a chance.”

Jason shudders in his arms. He tucks his face in Tim’s hair—Tim cups the back of his neck in response. “Feels like all you’ve given me a hundred second chances,” he whispers.

Tim nuzzles him. “I’ll give you a hundred more. You’re worth it.”

~

Jason starts making his own confessions, after that.

He lights a candle on the coffee table, filling the air with the scent of sandalwood. Then he stops. Turns his lighter over in his hand—flicks it on, then off again.

“I didn’t stop smoking because of how I died, or the Pit, or Talia, or for my health, or—any of the bullshit reasons I told everyone else. Sheila— Cigarettes remind me of her. The way she just sat there and watched.”

Tim stands, stepping into his space. He winds his arms around Jason’s waist. “You deserved better,” he says, quietly.

“We both did.”

‘We’ means Tim and Jason. It also means Sheila and Jason. Tim doesn’t know if he agrees with the latter—but. Whatever else she was, she was Jason’s mother, and that means something to Jason. So, he says nothing. Just presses a kiss to Jason’s shoulder.

~

After a rough patrol, another argument between Jason and Bruce—one that took both Nightwing and Red Robin to break up—Jason sits in the medbay of Tim’s nest, letting him stitch up his arm.

Tim is almost done, when Jason says, “I’ve given up on Bruce killing the Joker for me. I wish he’d let me do it. More than that—I just. I want him to tell me, to my face, that he missed me. That he loved me. That the loss of me was something painful. That—That he still loves me. I don’t. I don’t want to hear it from someone else. But I know— I know he won’t. The man who would have died with me, and sometimes I think that’s the worst of it all.”

Tim snips the thread, laying the needle down. He kisses the skin just above the wound, and lingers there. “I’m sorry.”

Jason is quiet. Then he turns, pressing his nose into Tim’s hair. He doubts it smells great—he hasn’t had time to hit the showers yet—but Jason doesn’t seem to care. “Me too,” he whispers.

~

Tim gets a box of cologne samples in the mail. He’s going through them, just for fun—handing the ones he likes best to Jason. As he passes over the third, Jason says,

“I don’t remember what Mom’s voice sounded like anymore—but. I found the perfume she loved. It was one of the most expensive things we owned. She only got it out for special occasions, or—or when she was sad, and needed something to help remind her of the good times. I— When I smell it, I can almost hear her again. Singing in the kitchen, or… Reading with me on the couch.”

Tim puts the cologne samples down. He tucks himself against Jason’s side and holds him tight. The vulnerability in Jason’s voice, in his expression… It scares Tim almost as much as it awes him. He just— He wants to protect him, to hold the softest parts of Jason close, where nothing and no one can hurt him again.

It’s an impossible wish, but. That won’t stop him from trying.

“Tell me about her?” he asks softly, laying his cheek over Jason’s heart. The steady beat is calming.

Hesitatingly—haltingly—

Jason does.

~

It keeps going. Back and forth.

“Sometimes I think no one actually wants me around—that people are happier when I’m not there.” 

“I think I left a piece of myself in the grave. It hurts less that it’s missing these days, but. It still hurts.”

“I never felt like I was alive until I became Robin. That’s part of why losing it hurt so much.”

“Sometimes Bruce and Dick will mention things—and I don’t remember them. They sound like happy memories, but, when I go poking around, all I can find are blank spaces. It’s fucking terrifying.”

“In the early days—sometimes Bruce would forget, and call me by your name. I… It feels awful to admit, but. Those nights were my favorite.”

“I hate looking in the mirror. For—for a million fucking reasons, but one of ‘em is how much I look like my dad. Like Willis. He wasn’t a bad man, except when he drank. He just… he drank a lot. I don’t want to be him.”

Secrets traded, back and forth. A lot of them big, some of them small. Always in the quietest moments, in the carefullest tones. Each one met with acceptance, with love.

Tim feels freer than he ever has. Not even swinging between buildings leaves his step so light.

He thinks Jason feels the same; thinks he smiles more, now. Tim has caught him humming in the kitchen more than once—finds himself humming the same tune.

Tim has never needed reciprocation to love someone.

Jason has given it to him anyway.

~

Ivy’s not done with truth pollen—determined to perfect this strain. This time, Tim is on the other side of the city when Jason catches a face full. He doesn’t miss a beat; working with Spoiler to wrangle her back to Arkham. As soon as it’s handled, he beelines back to the Nest.

Tim meets him there.

Jason doesn’t lock himself in an isolation cell, this time. He works with Tim to distill the antidote. Tim isn’t foolish enough to believe that all of the secrets Jason has buried in the recesses of his mind have come to light. He knows his haven’t. He knows, too, that for both of them, there are some which never will. That's okay. Jason has shared enough that the pollen’s compulsion has little to cling to; little to nourish its roots.

So this time—he doesn’t talk as much, this time; only the occasional confession spilling from his lips.

Most of them make Tim blush.

It’s a torturous hour—albeit for entirely different reasons than last time—and it ends not with a shared cup of tea but Tim pinned to the wall in the Nest shower, Jason on his knees, worshiping him until stars burst behind his eyes.

Tim turns the tables on him as soon as he remembers which way is up—and then they stumble upstairs, to bed, curling into one another like two mis-matched halves.

Jason tangles their fingers together. “Tell me a secret,” he whispers, to the darkness of the room.

Tim does.

[radioisntdead]

Hello hello for the third time!!

Once again, your fics absolutely BLOW my mind away!! And I'm here to request just a silly fic with Angel Dust (platonic) and a feral!child reader, who always gets into trouble with his workplace and the hotel?

(I mostly just wanna read Valentino be shit on lmao)

Yours Truly,

- XIN 💠

(P.S, I RLLY WANNA BECOKE UR FRIEND OMG)

Good evening my dear! You requested this at the perfect time because I had to stop the feral child I am related to from running over the elderly with a grocery cart so that's definitely going to play into this not the hitting the elderly with a cart but the general vibe, ALSO THATS SO SWEET OF YOU TO SAY, I'M OPEN TO FRIENDSHIP JUST MESSAGE ME ON HERE BECAUSE I DON'T KNOW IF I MESSAGE YOU FIRST IT'LL BE FROM THIS BLOG OR MY MAIN ONE (I've been on Tumblr for like 5-6 years now and I still don't know how it works) YOU WILL GET ME YAPPIN' ABOUT HAZBIN, SENDING RANDOM SNIPPETS OF MY WRITING WITHOUT ANY CONTEXT AND MILDLY ODD EDITS OF SOUP

@fuck-this-shit-xin

Favorite babysitter

(Or alternatively Valentino gets beat by a child)

Angel dust & child reader, platonic!!!

Warnings:

I got carried away, Valentino loses a wing and both Antennas, nothing graphic surprisingly no unholy jokes mainly because the reader is a child, this is a shorter one, mild OOC

Angel dust didn't mind children, he preferred not to be around them because well, he wasn't the most child-friendly person to be around

However it was just his luck that the hazbin hotel's resident feral child had decided he was their favorite babysitter.

You had shown up one day at the doorstep of the hotel with a note taped onto you just saying 'Good luck '

It was suspected you were some type of bomb at first but that quickly was pushed aside when it was found you were just feral, you weren't a bad kid you just didn't listen, climbed onto the walls, tabletops, bit into things you weren't supposed too but you could be a very sweet kid, playing with the Egg Bois, helping Charlie by drawing, helping Husk dry the glasses or hunting down roaches with Niffty,

That last activity had been banned since you almost stabbed one of the Egg Bois.

You were a very sneaky and little clingy thing that was evident with you latching onto his legs at random times, sometimes he wouldn't even notice you until it was pointed out or he looked down and bam! There you were wrapped around him like a baby possum sippin' on a juice box.

He made it a point to make sure someone was distracting you as he escaped the hotel to go to work, unfortunately for him Sir Pentious who was meant to be watching you was distracted by his egg minions almost smashing themselves while trying to recreate action movies and you ran after him following him through the city and into the Vee's tower, shockingly due to plot convenience you weren't noticed until Valentino was yelling at Angel dust for who knows what before any work could be done, he pulled out Angel's contract for whatever reason, maybe to make a point? You didn't really know but you didn't like that what looked like a giant dressed up purple grape was yelling at your favorite babysitter so with your little legs you stomped up to Valentino tugging on his wings that acted as a robe, he looked down in fury that quick turned into angry confusion

"Who the fuck brought their child to set?!"

Valentino shouted looking around as his employees looked around shaking their heads, a rush of pure panic rushed through Angel dust, when did you get here? He didn't even notice you? Wasn't Sir Pentious watching you?!

Before he could even get a word out you stomped your leg and pointed at him, eyes full of pure fury.

"Say sorry!"

"¿Qué? What did you just say?"

"Say sorry!"

Valentino leaned uncomfortably in, opening his mouth to say something but Angel had grabbed you in his many arms fully intending to take whatever hit Valentino could throw at you, however you had a different plan, with a large frown on your face you wiggled your way out of Angels arms and pounced onto Valentino, your little clawed hands tearing into his wings, leaving small puncture wounds behind as you climbed up him, the contract that bounded Angel dust's soul to Valentino floated down to the ground.

Valentino yelled out words you couldn't quite understand as his wings flared out, you took the opportunity to steal his hat and bite into it tearing it apart before throwing the remaining fabric onto the ground.

The unholy studio's employees could only watch stunned as you grabbed onto his antennas completely ripping them off, if he couldn't fly because of his damaged one before, he definitely had no hope of it now.

Valentino dropped to the ground screeching, arms reaching up to throw you off only for you to start crawling around his back like a little bug leaving more scratches and wounds

Angel dust once he recovered from the shock of you absolutely tearing apart Valentino tried to grab you fully intending on taking you and booking it to the hotel where you'd be safe,

Unfortunately you were freakishly strong and in angel's attempts of trying to pull you off ended up pulling one of Valentino's wings out.

"Are you going to say sorry now?"

Valentino let out a groan of disoriented pain,

That didn't sound like an 'I'm sorry' to you, so you climbed up his remaining wing and ripped a large chunk of his fluff from it, Niffty would be proud!

"¡Lo siento! ¡Lo siento, solo vete!" the still disoriented Valentino shouted from the ground,

You smiled as you stood up from the overlord and skipped towards Angel dust, your eyes caught the contract that had floated to the ground, now you didn't know what it contained because you couldn't read but you assumed it probably meant something to the purple guy and so you decided that you should rip it.

"[Name] get over here' I gotta get you outta here before-" Angel dust started as you swiped the contact off the floor and ripped it to shreds, the smoke-like chain briefly appeared around Angel dust's neck before breaking apart and whooshing away.

Angel was stunned for a moment before a large grin broke out on his face, before anyone could say anything he picked you up, raised a certain finger up and shouted that he was quitting, after all Valentino didn't have his soul anymore, and frankly the work environment would be awkward now to say the least since a child had just inflicted permeant damage to his now former boss, he could find another job.

Unfortunately someone who didn't have good morals called the security team and now Angel dust was running down the Vee's tower holding you, he would pull out the guns that he kept in I assume his ribcage or something but you were right there and the gunshots would hurt your little eardrums, eventually the two of you outran them and returned into the safety of the hotel.

Angel dust sat you down on the ground as he breathed in, catching his breath while Sir Pentious rushed to you lifting you up while asking where you were before looking at Angel in confusion.

"Aren't you ssssssupposed to be at work?"

"I quit! Lil' chronic juice-o-holic over there ripped up my contract and fucked up Valentino! hAh!" Angel said still trying to catch his breath as you slipped out of Sir Pentious's hold and ran to go bug Husk for a juice box.

The news of you ripping Valentino's antennas and a wing out made hotel news, you were lightly scolded by Charlie about taking the violent route but she gave you ice cream and bought you a toy as a reward, Alastor saw great potential in you, Husk patted your head saying that you did good, Vaggie would eventually decide to teach you how to fight, you got being feral down but it couldn't help to teach you to be more calculated, Niffty was happy when you gave her the big clump of fluff for her collection, she already had some from her earlier interaction with the now antenna-less moth but more couldn't hurt!

And Angel dust, well he owed ya big time although he did scold you for following him into a dangerous place [thank goodness you didn't see anythin' unholy or Vaggie would've had his head!]

He spent a little more time with you the following week before he decided to do some job huntin', he would sneak you some candy or a extra juicebox when he could, and the two of you would watch kid friendly Disney or dreamworks movies on the hotel's TV.

Valentino laid down in his hospital room, full of fury that he got injured by a child of all things, a small child that had some type of connection with Angel dust who's soul he no longer owned, he swore that he would get payback against the child, unfortunately for him the mere presence of that child would strike enough fear into him that he wouldn't be able to make a move, and even if he could he wouldn't be able to do anything to the feral child.

He got off easy this time, he wouldn't be as lucky the next he messed with your favorite babysitter again.

Good evening folks! Hope you enjoyed! I'm working on getting the older requests in my inbox done and getting them out next week along with the 100 followers fic with Angel dust! So tune on in for that! Goodnight folks!

[honestlydarkprincess]

Snippet Sunday!

tagged by the lovely @underwater-ninja-13, @giddyupbuck, @wikiangela, @daffi-990, @exhuastedpigeon, @loveyouanyway, @rogerzsteven

more of the stubble fic<3

“C’mon, Buck,” Eddie murmured, his shoulders relaxing, a smirk appearing on his lips. “Tell me. Is it the beard or is it me?”

“It’s you,” Buck said breathlessly, staring into Eddie’s eyes. “I mean— the beard helps— all I can think about is—” He started before he cut himself off, blushing.

“What, Buck? What are you thinking about?” Eddie whispered, his breath fanning across Buck’s lips he was so close.

Buck whimpered. “I can’t— I’m not— I can’t think when you’re this close,” He finally admitted.

Eddie grinned, grabbing Buck’s t-shirt and hauling him into a kiss. The second their lips touched Buck let out a low moan and pressed as close to Eddie as possible.

“Fuck,” Eddie muttered in-between kisses, nipping Buck’s bottom lip and demanding entrance. Buck opened his mouth and groaned happily when Eddie’s tongue touched his. “Can’t believe,” Eddie panted, releasing Buck’s mouth so he could plant harsh kisses down his throat. “that you were losing your mind over a little bit of stubble.”

Buck whined. “It’s not my fault,” His hands went to Eddie’s hair, pulling on the soft strands. “You just look so good and I want you to—” Buck cut himself off with a moan.

“What, baby? You want me to what?” Eddie teased. “Cat got your tongue tonight, huh?”

Buck whimpered. Fuck, this was really happening. He was really standing in Eddie’s kitchen with Eddie plastered against his front, casually teasing him as he nipped and sucked his way down Buck’s throat. Calling him baby. It was everything Buck had ever wanted. He felt overwhelmed, in the very best way, but still overwhelmed. He let out a broken sound, it was all he was capable of.

tagging: @bigfootsmom, @maygrantgf, @loserdiaz, @monsterrae1, @eddiebabygirldiaz, @watchyourbuck, @princessfbi, @sunshinediaz, @spagheddiediaz, @jeeyuns, @puppyboybuckley, @buck-coded, @excuseme-greentea, @hoodie-buck, @firemedicdiaz, @spotsandsocks, @devirnis, @barbiediaz, @disasterbuckdiaz, @lover-of-mine, @theotherbuckley, and @epicbuddieficrecs

[writing-fanics]

I'm loving your works so faaaar! Especially that one where the reader is charlie's mum and that snippet where the reader leaves heaven to save her daughter😭

So I'm here like: what if the reader was reborn in heaven and meant to be Adam's wife but she refuses and is forced to be in Heaven, and it doesn't matter how many times Adam tries to woo her, she's loyal to Luci.

Then when she sees her daughter is in danger, she chooses to leave Heaven,(Emily sets her free, with the Entity's approval, like the god in that universe) knowing the consequences of her actions.

I imagine after saving her daughter, Adam is furious, a chain forms around her neck and Adam pulls her in roughly.

Charlie screams for her Mum and is like "LET HER GO"

"Remember our deal you-" the reader spits on him.

Got inspired by a Lucifer x Lilith tweet where Lucifer goes bersek when the exorcists want to kill Lilith for treason and Lucifer embraces his demon's side to protect her.

I see the reader embracing her demonic side just for Charlotte.

"Say goodbye to your offspring you whore!"

Adam holds reader by the hair, as the exorcists surround Charlie, spare at her troath.

The quality is so bad but I didn't want to look like I was stealing this beautiful artwork to this artist in twitter.

"Yes the great noble angel" Adam chants as you say that you'll accept any punishment, even dead if that means sparring your daughter's life

"Your pure heart won't spare your daughter!"

The rest of the members of the hotels tries to catch up with you to no avail.

"Mum!" Charlie screams and as you see blood, her blood, you lose your mind.

You break free from Adam's iron grip, eyes red and shatter his mask.

"BRING IT ON, CHARLIE IS NOT DYING HERE!"🤭

yes I’m still working on it and will for sure be adding this

mama bear will be coming out and then adam threatens the two toddlers y/n has.. the babies she was pregnant with before she died protecting her people.

and goes sicko mode and goes ham like her demon form isn’t her true demon form she turns into some primordial being and just destroys him

“YOU COME AT ME AND MY FAMILY?!”

“DONT FORGET YOURE IN MY HOUSE NOW BITCH!”

it takes Lucifer to stop her the little ones hiding behind Angel Dust scared. She notices and calms down breathing heavily then she remembers Charlie

She’s okay I healed her

Lucifer glares at Adam as she flew out of the crater, “You’re lucky I stopped her, I should’ve let her finish you off”

“Don’t ever come near me or my family again, and don’t you think about laying a hand on my wife!”

[pvrkacciosan]

Breaks and Bruises

Summary: During a lesson on hand to hand combat, the reader receives a little more of a kicking than she bargained for, Bodhi is pissed to find her injured, having not admitted feeling for her he struggles to grasp with his panic for her safety.

Pairing : Bodhi Durran X Fem!Reader

Word count: unchecked.

Warning : swearing, angst, Bodhi losing his shit at Xaden, suggestive content towards the end, sexual tension,

Part 2

☽⋆❈⋆☾

You stood watching from the side, the mats in the middle of the room filled with bodies that danced around one another, matching hit for hit.

Xaden Riorson circled around the room, he was your Wingleader and one of the few third years present right now as almost the whole of second and first years were here sparring one another. Un unorthodox training session he had planned.

You observed from beside another group of first years all of you picking up ever snippet of information you could from the second years that fought before you.

Fighting stances, patterns, strikes. The older students did well, their bodies toned to become weapons bred for war.

You could be like that too, if you actually practised. The clipped tone of your dragon, Asralethia sided into your thoughts.

You should have put your shields up against Asra as Bodhi has taught you, but watching the other students bodies move in tandem to one another was a dance to be observed and respected. One which you just couldn't seem to look away from.

You have known Bodhi for years, and since arriving at Basgiath, bonding with Asra and surviving towards the end of your first year. You had managed to settle back into the relaxed nature of your friendship.

Not that you could just call it that. The older you both seemed to get the more you seemed to notice just how... Well how much you, desire Bodhi to be more then your friend.

Not that those thoughts had ever been shared beyond your own mind. Apprehension always got the better of you.

Perhaps if he-

You're always thinking about this boy, Focus girl. Asra's voice in your head brought you halting back into your own body once more. Present just as the girl in the mat before you flipped her opponent straight onto his back, his chest racked upwards as he tried to gulp air back into his lungs.

Get out of my head. You could sense Asra's snarl of disapproval rippled through the bond you both shared,

Get on one of those mats and I will. Your dragon's words were final and she seemed to build up her side of your shield.

When the guy on the mat at your front slapped a hand onto the padding beneath him, you tried to avoid Xaden's gaze.

He must have noticed you trying to slip away,

"Y/n you're up next, to the mat now"

You cast a scathing look towards him, Bastard. Xaden's answering smirk was an indicator that he knew exactly of your current thoughts. And found amusement within them.

You would have taken the chance to flip him off but the girl on the mat began to bounce on the balls of her feet, preparing herself as she looked you over once.

You didn't know her name, didn't know anything about her beyond her position as a third year, one of the few to attend this sparring today. She had made mince of the second year boy before you.

Stepping closer, you planted a foot into the circle, shifting to keep the space between your bodies for now, anticipating her movement.

When she didn't immediately swing for you, you feigned to the right, it did little more then rendering your own balance off centre.

Eyeballing from the side she waited for you to right yourself before moving, it was a tactic you should have foresaw and would have had you more time to prepare yourself.

Her balled fist collided with the side of her face, knuckles cracking into the bone of your cheek.

With shock you had little time to release yourself when she gripped your shoulders. Holding you in place as she brought her knees driving upwards into the line of your chest.

Even with the blood roaring in your ears you couldn't miss the sound of the surrounding group when they hissed in unison of your legs giving out under you. The collapse jolting you to your very senses.

Tensing the muscles in your legs, lower back and ass you spun on the mat using your opposite foot to push. Kicking for the girls feet.

Your shin connected with her calf, sending her to back flat land harshly against the surface of the mat. The air whoosing from her lungs with audible affect.

You danced away from her frame, the edge of the padding stopping you from backing up any further, you couldn't be pushed off. It never looked good, for anyone.

Xaden was circling the mats, keeping a close eye on where the two of you were sparring. The girl launched up from the ground, having caught her breath.

You knew she would come at you fast and hard but hadn't expected her to full on tackle you to the ground, trying to dodge it by stepping to the side, you only succeeded in putting yourself in an awkward position. When she collided with you, her shoulder had driven itself directly into your ribs,

Pain bloomed there but you hadn't any time to recover as you both went rolling to the floor.

With the weight of both your bodies you landed hard, the noise seemed to draw in more attention around the room. Other mats slowing to watch as this girl handed your ass to you on a plate.

It was a pathetic attempt to dislodge her from the position she had on you, straddling your torso she pinned your arms down one by one with her knees.

"Marked bastard" she leaned closer to spit the words in your face, her eyes narrowing on the relic swirling around your collar bone that rooted up from your arm.

Desperate to free yourself when she landed the first punch on your face. You could feel the warm rush of blood spilling from beneath the bone of your cheek.

Pushing all the effort you could into willing your muscles to work you drove your heel closer to your ass as much as you could, using the leverage it gave you to thrush your hips upwards.

Her face and upper body came flying towards your own, thrown off her own balance. You heard her curse as she tried to catch herself. Twisting your hips beneath her you used this moment to wiggle out from her grip turning to get upright.

She grabbed for you and despite you launching yourself out the way you felt her hand wrap around your forearm.

She jerked your arm back towards her before sharply twisting it. You screamed out as the muscles stretched to their limit,

Even with him across the room, you watched Xaden spin at the sound, wide steps eating up the space to come back to your mat.

"Cassandra!" His voice boomed but the girl didn't seemed to hear him, instead twisting hard on your arm.

The joint was screaming in protest, you tried to wiggle from her grasp, push against her but even the littlest of movements made you blanch with pain; white hot pain that send your vision rolling.

Somewhere in that time you had begun pleading with her to let go but still she refused to release you, Xaden was nearing the mat now, shadows swirling.

The pain only continues to build, until finally something gave way.

Something in your arm and shoulder ripped free and popped.

Cassandra dropped you in shock as she heard the audible sound that came from your joint, her eyes widening in surprise.

You had begun screaming at the pain that increased ten fold. You were aware of Asra speaking in your head but when you couldn't utter a response her end of the bond fell silent.

You ungracefully landed on the mat, good hand holding your injured shoulder. Breathing was becoming painful as you ribs which were clearly broken ached with even the smallest of movements.

You were struggling to see as the pain took everything, taking over every sense.

You would have cried out in pain when your whole body slumped forwards, giving your consciousness over to darkness.

- ❈ -

The pain was a dull ache, like a headache building behind your eyes. With the safety of darkness still blanketing your vision you could focus on the pain. Your face, shoulder and ribs, it had slowed the pain not as aggressive. Only when your blood pulsed did you shift in discomfort.

Still with your eyes closed you could only detect the noise of someone else moving when you did, someone sitting beside the bed.

"Y/n?" Heat bloomed in your core, you knew that voice anywhere. Peeling your eyes open and blinking to focus your vision.

Bodhi was up out the chair and beside you in seconds. He went to reach for your hand before stopping himself, expression shifting across the shadows on his face.

"I thought you said you weren't fighting today?" You could detect the concern in his tone, but he hadn't been there. Bodhi was supposed to have other duties to attend to today.

As though he spied your thoughts,

"Asra came to find Cuir when you stopped responding, she was worried about you" his face was clearly saying he too was worried.

He pinned you with his gaze, "What happened? I thought the first years were watching for today sparring tomorrow"

You nodded around the pain in your head that seemed to tether to the top of your spine.

"I thought I was doing alright considering she was third year. And -" you paused remember the words she had spat at you moments before she dislocated your shoulder.

Your hesitation only seemed to snag at Bodhi's attention, he brushed a knuckle across the top of your hand. Warmth coiled on the skin there.

Tell him. The tone of Asra's voice in your head left little room for debate. Even if you could detect the small degree of concern.

"She called me a 'marked bastard' while we were on the mats"

Bodhi sat up a little straighter. Out of many of the marked ones you always tried to be friendly to everyone despite their views on your group. It only seemed to anger him more at the thought.

"Who the fuck even let you on that mat?" He angrily drove his fingers through the dark curls on his hair. You would have got distracted by it if his expression hadn't shifted with utter rage.

"Y/n, who was it?"

The air lodged itself in your throat, you would hate to be the one that caused a fight between the cousins, despite their usual spats of disagreements. With the expression on Bodhi's face you could tell this wouldn't be like their usual arguments.

"Y/n-"

"Xaden."

You could see every inch of Bodhi go stiff. Eyes glazing over in thought, he was communicating with Cuir and you knew it.

Asra, where is Xaden do you know? You hesitantly asked,

The wingleader is on the flight field, she cuts her words off with a little more bite at the mention of Xaden.

Bodhi rose up from the chair and did something he hadn't done since you both were kids, without thinking and leaning closer Bodhi pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head.

"Bodhi-" the sudden act, stunned you silent.

"I'll be back shortly" he didn't say anything else before turning and walking out of the room.

You tried to push yourself up off the bed with one arm, but every muscle in your torso and spine rippled and screamed in protest.

Asra can you make sure they don't kill each other?. You let her hear the pleading in your tone.

I will keep your one safe. No promises for the Wing leader. It was clear to see exactly where she now stands with Xaden after he put you on that mat.

You couldn't only hope they didn't kill one another.

- ❈ -

Xaden had been hiding from his cousin on the flight field, he knew where Bodhi stood with his feelings on Y/n and he had no real reason as to why he put her on that mat. It was a mistake he shouldn't have made.

Bodhi was ignoring Cuir's encouragement as he strides onto the flight field passing the group from First Wing.

His tunnel vision was focused on the familiar figure near the centre of the field.

Speeding up his pacing, Bodhi reeled all his emotions as he drove back his arm. Xaden only turned quick enough to catch a quick glance of his cousin's fist before it collided with the side of his jaw.

He was sent rocking back as Bodhi scowled down at his cousin, going to forward another punch Bodhi swore out loud as Garrick intercepted and pulled him back.

"Get off me!" Garrick refused to let off, keeping his grip on Bodhi, the older boy had size on him and Bodhi would be stupid to swing for Garrick just to release himself.

There was a boom as two dragons landed nearby, a green and blue. Cuir and Asra. Y/n was probably keeping tabs by communicating through Asra. The blue watching every movement with a lethal precision.

Bodhi finally lifted both hands, palms wide in surrender. Garrick stalled a second before finally releasing him.

Xaden was rubbing at the bruise already blooming like blood along the bone. He wiggled his jaws, face contorting in discomfort.

Bodhi couldn't bring himself to care if it hurt. Xaden had put you on that mat. Couldn't think beyond the reasoning that you were hurt due to that fact.

"What the fuck Xaden?" He didn't need to elaborate further.

"I have no real reason for putting her on that mat" Xaden's head hung a little,

Bodhi looked ready to swing again, Garrick shuffled on his feet, arms folded across his chest firmly. A muscle built barrier to keep the cousins from ripping into each other.

"That's bullshit" Bodhi wouldn't even attempt to hide the anger in his voice, not when he knew both older boys knew his feelings towards you.

"I'm so-"

Bodhi scoffed shaking his head, "Don't even try to apologise. That girl called Y/n a marked bastard."

Bodhi knew it would anger them as much as it had him. You felt things more deeply then other marked ones, who's brash nature tended to defend themselves against petty name-calling. It always ate away at you.

Bodhi knew he was right as Xaden shifted, dropping his hand away from his face when Garrick shot him a gruff look.

The girl is trying to leave the room.

Bodhi glanced across to watch Cuir, his dragon shifted on her front legs, Asra beside her still watching with eyes narrowing in on Xaden, If Sgaeyl wasn't relaxed in the dried grass meter from Riorson, Bodhi might have expected Asra to bite Xaden's head off his shoulders simply from the way she watched him.

"I have to get back to Y/n." he stalked closer a step, Garrick seemed to let him take those inches closer,

"I don't care if you're my family or a Wingleader, You ever pull that shit again and I'll gut you where you stand."

Despite the weight of his words, Bodhi couldn't seem to bring himself to care what strain they put on his relationship with Xaden. Family or no, Wingleader or no. He shouldn't have put you on a fighting mat with a third year with way more experience than you. The resurfacing of those thought simply made his blood boil more.

Asra says the girl has made it to the hallway. Cuir still sounded as relaxed as ever,

Xaden seemed to nod in silent agreement, not reaching to stop Bodhi as he finally turned to leave. Garrick offered the younger boy a quipped smile before he turned towards his own dragon, which landed onto the flight field behind him.

Bodhi had begun walking back towards the building,

Where is she now? he asked of Cuir, knowing Asra would still be within communication reach.

Half way down the hall, her body is weakened. Do something. Cuir was clearly being edge on by your dragon, A demand most likely coming straight from Asra herself. Bodhi should have known you might have tried to come after him, if only to stop him from killing his own cousin.

I'm going. Cuir only seemed to chuff in his head,

Bounding back up the stairwell towards the dormitory, Bodhi slowed sensing you around the corner, funnily enough when he rounded the hallway he spotted you.

One arm brushing the wall for support, the other despite the sling it hung in, a hand was holding your side. The rib beneath screaming in protest of your movements and apparently your breathing as well. It was infuriating.

Bodhi shook off his anger with Xaden for now, you hadn't seemed to notice his approach yet. Stopping for a breather as your head swirled.

"You shouldn't be out of bed yet."

You glanced up at Bodhi, relieved to see him unharmed. You shouldn't have jerked your head up so suddenly, not ready for the sudden rush the blood would cause.

Your hand against the cool stone was the only thing tethering you, squeezing your eyes shut with a hiss of breath breaking through your clenches teeth you were vaguely aware of your body swaying.

"Y/n?" his voice was softer then usual, and closer then he had been moments before. Peeling both eyes open slowly, you could see the worry etched onto Bodhi's expression. His warm palms brushed your hip to limit the amount of swaying you did. Holding you in place, it was an effort to not gawk down at his hands.

You would have picked fun of him had you not believed you might pass out any second,

"Can you... Help me get back?" you pointed a finger behind you, in the direction of your dorm room.

"Of course."

You had been expecting him to loop your good arm over his shoulder and help you pathetically limp back down the hall. You hadn't mentally prepared yourself for him to wrap his arms around you, lifting you up off the ground.

You squeaked in surprise, Bodhi stiffens and you felt ever muscles along his chest and torso ripple with immediate affect.

"Sorry I didn't think... D-did I hurt you?"

There was a nervousness lining every edge of his body, It was an unusual characteristic for Bodhi. Even when he blinked down at you in worry, you struggled to push your words past the nervous lump forming in your throat.

"...no."

Bodhi very carefully adjusted his grip on you, the arm supporting your back pulling you closer into his chest, The one tucked under your knees tightened to keep your body as level as possible.

His warmth was encompassing your own, mixing to solidify the fact Bodhi Durran was now carrying you back to your room. Where he was going to lie you down on your bed, The thoughts that swirled your mind seemed to dull the ache of the injuries littering your body.

The bumps and bruises lost as you glanced up to watched him. The words stalled in you once more, as you became oddly aware of the tone muscles beneath his shirt. Your clothes being the only thing separating your hot skin from that direct contact you found yourself craving more and more.

"Is-" you swallowed hard, Bodhi continued walking slowing to let a couple other first years walk past. They eyed you up but said nothing, continuing on.

Bodhi glanced down at you, that usual unwavering confidence masking the nervousness that still clung to him like smoke.

"Is Xaden... Dead?" you couldn't help the hesitation in you. It hadn't been your intention for the two to fight.

Asra had filled you in on snippets of what was happening, but when you asked for the outcome she had fallen conveniently silent. The voices in your head convinced you it was your concern for the wing as a whole if Xaden were absent instead of Bodhi's personal welfare if he went head to head with the Wingleader that had you fighting the pain to leave your bed.

"He will live." Bodhi fought to bite back the word. 'Unfortunately', fearful it may give him away.

You nodded softly, hissing when the blood rush up the back of your head. The sound of your discomfort made him slow and pull you closer to him.

"Almost there." His voice had gone softer once more. As he rounded to the final edge of the hall. Slowing at your door he turned to push it with his back. It swung open, Moving inside he kicked it shut.

You glanced across. Noticing the much nicer interior,

"This isn't my room."

Bodhi moved across to the bigger bed,

"That's because it's mine."

Despite being friends long before every coming to Basgiath, you had never seen the inside of his room, never allowed yourself to get that close. Perhaps in fear of meeting another female inside or retreating our from within the dorm room.

When you went to question him, Bodhi smiles, rounding the edge of the chair

"My bed is far comfier," as if to prove his point, He began lowering you gently, the top sheet met your body first and the mattress under that sunk and molded to the lines of your body was utter bliss lifting your weight from the pressure of your injuries.

A moan of pleasure escaped you, one which you hadn't mean to release and Bodhi froze easing you onto the bed. As horror overtook you.

You had moaned right into his ear.

His face was inches from you, as he unraveled his arms from behind you.

"I know my bed was comfy, but didn't expect it to entice such sounds from you."

You face and body heated and you would have blamed it on the injuries and bruises around you, but the heat that built in your core you couldn't deny it.

Bodhi chuckled lightly, easing himself to sit away from you on the bed.

"I'm going to start accompanying you to sparring practise." That nervousness seemed to have eased away being replaced by something more you couldn't place.

"I could have taken on anyone else." The words were for yourself and him, unwilling to believe you had let yourself and your squad down with your weakness on the mats.

"Xaden shouldn't of had you fighting. Don't worry, It won't happen again." the utter conviction in his tone, it's unbreaking truth, shot shivers up your arm.

Bodhi gave you one final smile, easing up he places a soft kiss to your brow, the air stuttered out of you. You clamped your mouth shut to hide it. Sparing yourself anymore embarrassment for today.

"Get some rest Y/n."

You eased down as he began to move towards the door,

"Wait-"

Bodhi froze, glancing at you from over the curve of his muscled shoulder.

"Where will you sleep? I can't just take your bed"

Bodhi seemed to take a second,

"I'm fine with the chair for a few nights. You need the bed more."

And with those final words, Bodhi gripped the door, knuckles white as if leaving you in this room was a challenge. Nodding once he slipped out.

You sighed settling down into the bed. Letting the silence to calm the roaring he had enticed in your blood, setting it alight.

Outside the door Bodhi exhaled deeply,

When you had made that sound in his ear he had fought all restraint to keep himself from clinging to you for longer, it had taken all his fraying self restrain to leave that room.

Every inch of his skin felt tight with an invisible tension.

"Fine with the chair. Really?"

Bodhi settled his stare to glare at Garrick. The smirking bastard had his relaxed form leant against the opposite hallway wall. Brow raised in amusment.

Bodhi made his way towards him, passing Garrick who began making kissing sounds behind him.

Bodhi tried to hide his own amusement, playfully shoving Garrick's shoulder, as he followed him down the hall.

"Damn man, you're pussy whipped."

"Fuck off"

Garrick's bellowing laugh echoed down the hall.

Despite his defence of it all, Bodhi couldn't deny his friends teasing, he was well and truly fucked because if today's incident had taught him anything it was that he had fallen for you and he had fallen for you hard.

And as Bodhi went in search of Xaden, he couldn't find any part him that was unhappy by the situation.

Not one bit.

[hotchgirlsummer]

Can u do a bimbo reader where her and Aaron get In a silly fight and she’s like “s’ok Aaron no one’s really stayed with me this long so I understand “ and he’s like 😖nooo

OH MY GOD YOU ARE A GENIUS 😭 can i give you aa little blurb for now before i write a full fic for this? also thank you for sending me a request

summary ⤷ a snippet from the first fight of hotch and bimbo!reader

pairing ⤷ aaron hotchner x fem!bimbo!reader

warnings ⤷ hotch getting mad (raising his voice), implications of walking out, previous bad relationships

word count ⤷ 781 words

title: fighting with a true love

"Why would you do that, Y/N?" Aaron's voice was a bit deeper, harsher than she was used to as he was frantically trying to rid his coat of the little designs she sewn in earlier in the day. Biting through her lip to prevent the tears from spilling uncontrollably. "I'm sorry, Aaron. I got confused with the two piles you had, didn't think these were the ones that had to be sent to cleaners, thought these were the old ones I could design," She clarified as she tried to be helpful to him by kneeling down on the floor and reaching for another suit jacket that had pink thread all over it to make a flower. When the clothing article was snatched away from her she looked up with glassy eyes and was surprised to see his furious-looking ones.

"Let me help you, Aar. It was an accident and I wanna make things right for you," She tried to reach out for him but could not hold out the gasp when he swatted her away.

"Can you please just stop doing anything? Just because you can a mess does not mean you should make one," That was the final blow that made her quietly sob as she sat at the ottoman by the window. Helpless and miserable as she watched him walk their bedroom and dumping all of the altered clothing article in a duffel bag that was peeking out beneath their bed.

"I'm heading out, maybe that will help resolve this issue."

In Aaron's mind, the connection was clear. He'd be heading out to find a seamstress that could reverse what she had done and head down to the dry cleaners and fetch the old suits that Y/N can design on.

For Y/N however, it meant that he had put up with her antics for too long and will be walking out on their relationship. Which, to be fair, surprised her as this has been her longest relationship ever. No one has ever lasted more than eight months with her and honestly she was surprised that Aaron's patience hadn't run out much earlier into their relationship.

"It's okay, Aaron," Her sniffly voice had him stopping right by the door as he was taken aback with how small she sounded; as he turned around his heart broke upon seeing her wiping her tears and revealed, "No one's really stayed with me this long so I understand."

And just like that what little pieces his heart was dissolved into nothing as he empathized with her. Immediately, he dropped the duffle bag and quickly strode over to where she was sitting. Thinking that he would part final words that would undoubtedly sting — as was her previous experience with former lovers — she scooted away from him to give him space.

But she was shocked when he gathered her in his arms and placed her in his lap as Aaron lovingly soothed him, "Sweetheart, I am so sorry. I never had any intentions of leaving you, of walking out on us."

Sobs were taking over her whole body as she cried and held onto him tightly, worried that if she were to ever lose him if she slipped out of his hold. "But I made you mad," She hiccupped in between words as the effects of her crying caught up with her, "And it makes sense you'd get tired of me. I know I'm a lot too handle, and not in a good way."

"Look at me, sweetheart," Tilting her chin up slightly so he could look into her eyes seriously to get across his point, and he wiped her tears until she could see him clearly, "I love you. I love every single part of you. There is absolutely nothing about you that I would change. I'm sorry I lost my cool on you, sweetheart. Raising my voice and being vague with my words was not the right approach on things."

Sniffling once more before feeling like she was all cried out, Y/N looked at him and smiled a little, "But you weren't just in the wrong! I was completely in the wrong. I'm sorry for not paying close attention to which clothes were the ones I could play around with."

"It's okay, sweetheart. I know it was an accident, but even so," He tilts his head toward the duffel bag that contained the suits that she had sewn in and smiled warmly at her, "You did a really good job decorating those suits, sweetheart."

Finally cracking a genuine smile she nuzzled herself into his neck and hummed, "How about you help me choose the design for the right suits?"

[jazzyblusnowflake]

Love really bites

[a small vuzi snippet uwu yall liked the oil exchange with nuzi so you get this too >:3 ]

V and Uzi were sitting criss-cross in front of each other, feeling awkward but still looking determined- they wanted to try exchanging oil for V, since Uzi already did it often with N; but while they lean in slowly, V takes a peak and sees Uzi with visor eyes shut and looking stressed, her bottom jaw clattering softly for a moment as her body shakes lightly- V feels a slight pang of guilt and and scoffs "ugh" pushing Uzi back slightly "look I'm not doing this when you're so obviously terrified-"

"wh- i am NOT-!" she crossed her arms, looking away, a slight blush visible on her visor- "besides- don't you LIKE teasing and scaring me-

V rolls her eyes- also crossing her arms "uh- yeeeah. I like playing with my FOOD- not-!…..not you….." both of them pause momentarily at this small confession- "…. you're… more than that… I guess…" Uzi softly peaks at V as the other turns away blushing severely.

V suddenly shook her head "UGH never mind-!! this was stupid anyway-! ill just go find real food-"

"H-Hey wAIT!" before she knew what she was doing, Uzi had jumped and grabbed Vs arm as the taller drone stood up- so now they are both standing and staring at one another and Uzis hold on Vs arm with lots of blushing lines. Uzi looks away slightly "I uh…. we can try again if... if you want?…"

V's optics hallowed and she felt heat rising in her core- the fuck are these feelings ugh- no wonder Uzi hates that she's been programmed with them- "o-okay fine- since you insist- lets just get this over with then-"

Uzi lines their bodies so that they'd be standing and pressing against each other slightly and they both tried leaning in again slowly with closed eyes-

-when suddenly Uzi yelps as she is hoisted up on Vs arms "V! what the hell-!?"

V smirks up at her "sorry shorty, if I wanna get that oil I need gravity to slide it down your throat into mine-" she licks her fangs momentarily as her 5 real eyes pulsed slightly brighter with sparks which made Uzi blush even more- feeling slightly turned on at the display- she felt like V was gonna eat her alive and somehow she was fine with that-..............shOO BE GONE THOUGHTS-

Uzi shook her head "F- fine! ugh bite me-"

"be careful what you wish for~"

Uzi grumbles as V smirks wildly at her but instead of retorting with a snarky answer she lightly holds Vs cheeks and leans in again, her eyes fluttering closed as Vs smirk fades into a nervous frown and she swallows nervously as her hold tightens a little on the other drones back-

it starts with a peck and then they press their lips against each other more firmly, tilting their heads ever so slightly- and both of their frowns disappeared softly as they got more comfortable. Uzi's hands and fingers move from V's face and neck to threading and curling around in her hair and V purrs lightly at the small tugs.

slowly V pries open Uzis mouth a bit more with her tongue as she laps at the oil shared with her from against Uzis tongue and lips, making some run away drops slide past their mouths towards their chins.

V was surprised at how much more calming and energizing this felt; not particularly her style of work but…. she thinks that she could definitely get used to this… maybe... but then Uzi momentarily makes a small surprised sound that made V grip on her a little tighter subconsciously. Uzi presses slightly back against V's tongue with her own and her soft mewls fueled V in other ways-

Fuck her noises were almost as tasty as her oil, V thought momentarily before she caught herself-

They both part with a small gasp, swallowing whatever was left in their mouths and V had a few seconds to admire Uzi's light headed state from losing her oil before she blinked, slightly shaking herself out of it, blushing-

she put Uzi down a bit faster than intended but made sure she doesn't fall over- looking away and blushing, with Uzi doing the same- panting a little to get some chill air to her rapidly heating circuitry.

V thinks of what to say really cuz that was... certainly an experience she had.... "Uh yeah soo- thanks or whatever- that was.. definitely pretty boring to be honest, I can see why you'd like to do it all day with doodle boy over there-" she crosses her arms again looking away as she coughs lightly in her fist- blush lines being repressed but still visible-

Uzi blushes at the comment of her and N exchanging Oil- though she was hoping V didn't notice when they had parted Uzi was zoomed in on V's fangs and almost wanted her to ACTUALLY bite her like dear robo christ on a jet fueled scooter-

she ends up looking away too at V's words, blush painfully obvious "you're WELCOME for not letting you starve or whatever-! not like i care or anything hmph-"

they both stay like that looking away for a while… when Uzi notices V's tail wagging slightly behind her... oh.

"….b-but if you wanted any more… well uhh- you know where to find me I guess... ykNOW-! CUZ- it'd be a drag if we had to constantly deal with you over heating and stuff- y-yeah- that-!" she explains with a slight panic and waving her hands around

V looked at her with hollowed eyes and blushes as her tail twisted around her leg to keep it from wagging more- "um.. y-yeah totally sure- whatever- doubt ill NEED it tho- she slightly looks away, her finger playing with a strand of her own hair-

suddenly there was a sound of a loud clang and they both look at N jumping in the pod giddily with a loud "im baaack-!"

they both turn towards him looking gobsmacked with blushes and N had a moment of pausing and looking at Vs slightly ruffled hair and the two of them wiping the oil dripping from their mouth and chins-

N's expression turned into a deadpan one- "I leave for like…. 5 MINUTES… and you guys are making out without me??? >:( "

[rosiecqtt]

Jealousy, Jealousy

Summary; Your back in the capital for the 75 annual Hunger Games waiting for the opening parade ceremony to begin when one of the victors, namely the male from four, comes over to talk to you which sparks certain emotions in Peeta.

Notes; Okay so I’m thinking of maybe perhaps writing a rewrite fic for the Hunger Games because, like a lot of others, I am once again in my Peeta Mellark phase. This is a little snippet from that said potential fic. Read it and let me know if you’d be interested in more? Let me know if you think its lacking anything or has too much, any feed back would be great. 

Word Count; 3.3k

Warnings; It is the Hunger games, so mentions of violence and death. It gets a little spicy at the very end, Kissing and hickeys mostly.

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The last several days had seemed like a blur, and now here I was. Back in the capital dressed in an elegant costume waiting to be paraded for all of Panem to see, literally. Cinna had walked me to the elevator, but he had more things to attend to before it started so he had left me to travel down alone.

The elevator all too quickly arrived at the ground floor of the Remake Center, which houses the huge gathering place for the tributes and their chariots before the opening ceremonies. I'm hoping to find Peeta or Haymitch, or both, but they haven't arrived yet. So I once again find myself alone.

Unlike last year, when all the tributes were practically glued to their chariots, the scene is very social. The victors, both this year's tributes and their mentors, are standing around in small groups, talking. 

Of course, they all know one another and I don't know anyone, and I'm not really the sort of person to go around introducing myself. Back in twelve, I was often teased in school for not being more social, but eventually, I grew to not mind so much. 

 Instead of mingling and trying to find allies, I just stroke the neck of one of my horses and try not to be noticed. 

It doesn't work.

 The crunching hits my ear before I even know he's beside me, and when I turn my head, Finnick Odair's famous sea-green eyes are only inches from mine. He pops a sugar cube in his mouth and leans against my horse.

 “Hello, Y/n,” he says, as if we've known each other for years, when in fact we've never met. 

“Hello, Finnick,” I say, just as casually, although I'm feeling uncomfortable at his closeness, especially since he's got so much bare skin exposed.

 “Want a sugar cube?” he says, offering his hand, which is piled high. 

“They're supposed to be for the horses, but who cares? They've got years to eat sugar, whereas you and I ... well, if we see something sweet, we better grab it quick.” he says with a flirty wink.

Finnick Odair is something of a living legend in Panem. He won the Sixty-fifth Hunger Games when he was only fourteen. So besides Peeta and I, he is one of the youngest victors. He was from district four and was a Career, so the odds of him winning again, were in his favor. I had to admit that he certainly was extraordinarily beautiful. He was very tall, probably six foot two. He has a very athletic build, with golden skin and bronze-colored hair, and those incredible eyes.

I find it hard to form an argument against how beautiful he is. But I can honestly say he's never been someone I would want to be with. Maybe he's too pretty, or maybe he's too easy to get, or maybe it's really that he'd just be too easy to lose.

 “No, thanks,” I finally say, refusing his offer of the sugar. 

“I'd love to borrow your outfit sometime, though,” I say attempting to tease him as my eyes scan his elaborate outfit. 

He's draped in a golden net that's strategically knotted at his groin so that he can't technically be called naked, but he's about as close as you can get. I'm sure his stylist thinks the more of Finnick the audience sees, the better. 

“And you're absolutely terrifying me in that getup. What happened to the pretty little-girl dresses?” he asks. He wets his lips just ever so slightly with his tongue. Probably this drives most people crazy, and I can’t deny that it didn’t raise a blush to my cheeks.

 “I outgrew them,” I say simply looking back at the horses. 

Finnick leans closer to me and takes the collar of my outfit and runs it between his fingers. I look up at his face my eyes watching him closely, trying to calculate his next move.

“It's too bad about this Quell thing. You could have made out like a bandit in the Capitol. Jewels, money, anything you wanted.”

 “I-I don't like jewels, and I have more money than I need.” I stutter out flustered at his close proximity.

I clear my throat and take a step back “What do you spend all yours on, anyway, Finnick?” I say. 

“Oh, I haven't dealt in anything as common as money for years,” says Finnick.

 “Then how do they pay you for the pleasure of your company?” I ask, genuine curiosity seeping into my voice. 

 “With secrets,” he says softly with a charming smirk. He tips his head in so his lips are almost in contact with mine and my face grows hot. 

“What about you, girl on fire? Do you have any secrets worth my time?”.

 “No, I, uh I’m an open book,” I whisper back. “Everybody seems to know my secrets before I know them myself.” I lie hoping he will back off. He smiles. 

“Unfortunately, I think that's true.” His eyes flicker off to the side and I find myself letting out a breath.

 “Peeta is coming. Sorry, you have to cancel your wedding. I know how devastating that must be for you.” He tosses another sugar cube in his mouth and saunters off as anger fills my chest.

 ‘How dare he’. I think bitterly to myself. Did everyone truly think that I was simply faking my love and adoration for Peeta? Did I really come across like I was some horrible bitch using Peeta to make myself look good? A wave of sadness washed over me and I started to question if maybe everyone is right. 

 Peeta's walking up beside me snapped me out of my thoughts. He’s dressed in an outfit identical to mine and my blush returns full force as my eyes scan his body.

 “What did Finnick Odair want?” he asks, a strange tone to his voice. I turn to face him, a frown evident on my face.

 “He offered me sugar and wanted to know all my secrets,” I say.

 Peeta laughs. “Ugh. Not really.” 

“Really,” I say with an anxious laugh.

Peeta hums in response, watching as Finnick walks up to some other victor he seemed to know. He clenched his jaw tightly and looked back over to me. I thought it was strange but chose to not comment on it as the parade music began signaling for everyone to mount their chariots. 

“Shall we?” He says turning to me and stretching out a hand to help me into the chariot. 

I smile and gratefully accept it, climbing up and pulling him up after me. “Hold still,” I say, as I reach up to straighten his crown. He smiles down at me, and I return it glad that I don’t have to be here alone.

“Have you seen your suit turned on?” I ask him as I step back to make sure the crown is perfectly straight. “We're going to be fabulous again.”, I said teasingly, mocking the strange capital accent.

 “Absolutely we are”, he said with the same one. “But Portia says we're to be very above it all. No waving or anything,” he says more seriously. I nod, Cinna having said something similar.

“Where are they, anyway?” I asked eyeing the other chariots, they had set our costumes ablaze at last year's chariot ride but they were nowhere to be found.

“Maybe we better go ahead and switch ourselves on,” Peeta suggests noticing the panic growing on my face. 

So we do, and as we begin to glow, I can see people pointing at us and chattering, and I know that like last year we are going to be the talk of the opening ceremonies.

 When we’re almost out the door I crane my head around once again looking for them, but neither Portia nor Cinna, are anywhere in sight. 

With a frown, I look up into Peeta’s blue eyes that no amount of dramatic makeup can make truly deadly, and remember how, just a year ago, I thought he was prepared to kill me. I spent most of my entire time running away from him during the game, when in the end he was pretending to hate me all along so that he could protect me, which then created our start-crossed lover's story. I smile at him warmly and grab his hand without a second thought.

 We will go into this as one this time.

The voice of the crowd rises into one universal scream as we roll into the fading evening light, but neither one of us reacts. 

I simply fix my eyes on a point far in the distance and pretend there is no audience, no hysteria. But I can't stop myself from catching glimpses of us on the huge screens along the route, and we are not just beautiful, we are dark and powerful.

 We are the star-crossed lovers from District 12, who suffered so much and enjoyed so little of the rewards of our victory. We do not seek the fans' favor, grace them with our smiles, or catch their kisses. 

We are unforgiving. And I love it. Last year I craved the attention of the audience, knowing deep down that they loved Peeta more than me. I was desperate to gain the fan's attention in order to save myself. But not this time. This time I don’t care because I know I won’t win, nor do I care if they want me to. Peeta is the one who should have more fans. This time he will be the only one going home in the end. 

As we curve around the loop I hold Peeta’s hand tighter. I try to keep my gaze forward, not wanting to meet the faces of the other tributes, but I find it hard to not glance at all the others in front of us. Thankfully the ride goes by quickly and soon I find myself back in the training center but I dare not move until the doors close behind us. It seems Peeta thought the same thing because as the doors do finally close we both let out a long breath. 

Not letting go of my hand Peeta helps me off the chariot then jumps down beside me and together we walk towards our newly appeared stylists. Cinna and Porta are waiting on the far end of the room seeming very pleased with our display during our ride.

Haymitch has made an appearance as well, only he's not standing with them, he's over with the tributes of District 11. I see him nod in our direction and then they follow him over to greet us. 

I know Chaff by sight because I've spent years watching him pass a bottle back and forth with Haymitch on television. He's dark skinned, about six feet tall, and one of his arms ends in a stump because he lost his hand in the Games he won thirty years ago. I'm sure they offered him some artificial replacement like they did Peeta when they had to amputate his lower leg, but I guess he didn't take it. 

The woman, Seeder, looks almost like she could be from the Seam, with her olive skin and straight black hair streaked with silver. Only her golden brown eyes mark her as from another district. She must be around sixty, but she still looks strong, and there's no sign she's turned to liquor or morphling or any other chemical form of escape over the years.

 Before either of us says a word, she embraces me. I know somehow it must be because of Rue and Thresh. Before I can stop myself, I whisper, “The families?” 

“They're alive,” she says back softly, understanding what I meant before letting me go with a soft smile. 

Chaff throws his good arm around me and gives me a big kiss right on the mouth. My eyes grow wide and I jerk back, startled, while he and Haymitch laugh. Peeta watched Chaff with a clenched jaw, giving him the same strange look he gave Finnik earlier. 

I open my mouth to say something about it to him but the Capitol attendants are firmly directing us toward the elevators. I get the distinct feeling they're not comfortable with the camaraderie among the victors, who couldn't seem to care less. 

As I walk toward the elevators, my hand still latched tightly with Peeta's, someone else rustles up to my side. A girl pulls off a headdress of leafy branches and tosses it behind her without bothering to look where it falls. 

Johanna Mason. From District 7 Lumber and paper, thus the tree. She won by very convincingly portraying herself as weak and helpless so that she would be ignored. Then she demonstrated a wicked ability to murder. I admired her greatly and in the games last year many people assumed that I was following in her footsteps with my meek attitude. But unlike Johanna I was not as skilled at killing, just the hiding and playing dumb bit. 

She ruffles up her spiky hair and rolls her wide-set brown eyes. “Isn't my costume awful? My stylist's the biggest idiot in the Capitol. Our tributes have been trees for forty years under her. Wish I’d gotten Cinna. You look fantastic.” She says with a wink. 

My face flushes and I feel Peeta’s grip on my hand tighten further and I find myself growing increasingly curious as to why. 

While we wait for the elevators, Johanna unzips the rest of her tree, letting it drop to the floor, and then kicks it away in disgust. Except for her forest green slippers, she doesn't have on a stitch of clothing and my face grows hot at the realization.

 “That's better,” she says plainly, very unbothered at the fact that she was naked and surrounded by people. 

We end up on the same elevator with her, and she spends the whole ride to the seventh floor chatting to Peeta about his paintings while the light of his still-glowing costume reflects off her bare breasts. When she leaves, I let out a breath I didn’t know I had been holding and. I watched as the doors close behind Chaff and Seeder, leaving us alone.

We both remain silent for a moment before he looks over at me with a smirk. 

“What?” I ask nervously turning to face him as we step out on our floor.

 “It's you, Y/n. Can't you see?” he says.

 “What's me?” I say confused. 

“Why they're all acting like this. Finnick with his sugar cubes and Chaff kissing you and that whole thing with Johanna stripping down.” He tries to take on a more serious tone, trying to mask the one he's had since Finnick had spoken to her, but he was unsuccessful 

“They're playing with you because you're so ... you know.” 

“No, I don't know,” I say. And I really have no idea what he's talking about.

 “It's like when you wouldn't look at me naked in the arena even though I was half dead. You're so ... pure,” he says finally. I blush, my face turning red again at the implication. “No, I am not!” I exclaim. 

“Yeah, but ... I mean, for the Capitol, you're pure,” he says, firmly. ”And honestly, it's very attractive." He said 

I paused at that, glad that he was behind me, and could not see the blush that seemed to darken my face. I felt his warm hands wrap around my waist as I tried to think of something to say to defend myself.

“I know we are engaged, but no one seems to understand that you are mine, Y/n” Peeta says softly, resting his head on my shoulder as he holds me against him. 

“They don’t respect that you are mine, and I don’t know how to show them that you are”. He said. “But I can show you,” he whispers seductively into my ear. "Yeah?" I ask softly, not trusting myself to be able to say anything else at this moment. 

“Oh yeah, will you let me do that sugar cube?” He asks gently, teasing me with that nickname. I know he was alluding to Finnicks offerings and I couldn’t help the amused smile that fell on my face. I remained still as his hands moved across my waist only to stop and rest on my hips. 

I nervously chew on my bottom lip and nod softly, growing both excited and nervous to see what he had planned. Suddenly his behavior since my encounter with Finnick all made sense. He. was. Jealous. Soft, affectionate, and kind Peeta, my Peeta, was jealous, and it was oddly very attractive. I felt a soft, wet kiss on my neck that snapped me out of my thoughts.

 “I need an answer sweetheart,” he said placing another kiss on the opposite side of my neck.  suck in a deep breath and lean further into him, “Yes”, I say breathlessly and I feel him smirk against my skin. 

 He kisses my neck once again, and I melt into his embrace. He pulls away and looks into my eyes, his pupils were dilated and his breathing was heavy.  “Hold tight then,” He says seductively before spinning me around. I gasp at his sudden movements and cling to him as he backs me up against the wall in his room and pins me to the door with his hips. I gasp and he takes that as an opportunity to kiss me deeply, letting his tongue explore my mouth. I soon find myself pressing back against him and matching his hungry kisses that seem to devour me. 

I wrap my arms around his shoulders and he holds my waist tightly, pushing himself closer to me and I can’t stop the moan that leaves my lips. “Peeta”, I say breathlessly as his mouth leaves mine and he opts to kiss my neck. 

He hums in response and moves his hand up to my neck to where the buttons of my top sit. He starts to undo them, and I let him. Once unbuttoned he pulls it down my arms and rids me of it, leaving me in just my bra and pants. He stares at me for a moment, his eyes taking me in before he moves in closer. His lips press against mine, sending a jolt of electricity through my body. I let myself get lost in the moment, in the sensations he's making me feel. I feel my body melting into him and I reach my hands up into his blonde hair, tangling my fingers in it to ground myself.

He slowly kissed down my neck, nipping and sucking as he went. Dark red and purple marks decorated my skin as he went, successfully marking me ask his. Usually, he was gentle and sweet and though this wasn’t the first time they had kissed, it certainly seemed like the most intimate and hungry. 

He spent what seemed to be hours littering my chest and neck with his marks, successfully marking me as his, and he probably would have continued if Effie, Hamitch, and the others hadn’t gotten back and called for them. 

Pouting I looked up at Peeta, my eyes glassy and my pupils just as dilated as his. He chuckled softly and gave one last kiss to my swollen lips before resting his forehead against mine. 

“Hopefully now you’ll remember and understand that you’re mine Y/n,” Peeta said.  I smiled at him my heart racing in my chest as I looked up into his blue eyes. I nodded as I whispered, "I do." He leaned in and kissed me one last time before disappearing into his bathroom to quickly change. I stood against the door for another moment trying to process what had happened. 

After several seconds I laughed to myself, “Wow”, I whispered to myself as I looked around his room for something I could change into myself so as to not seem suspicious to everyone else. “Just wow”. I whispered shaking my head. My nickname in the Capital was the Girl on Fire, but it seemed like I wasn’t the only one who burning. 

[accio-victuuri]

June CPNs round-up ❤️💛💚

• Children’s Day candies

• similar we11done pants - i personally love seeing them in same style clothing, especially if it’s as unique as this.

• LOZ preview candies: having the same braincell playing w/ an abacus & the ok gesture reappears

• i can’t link it here because the posts are locked over at weibo, but someone on douyin commented they saw wyb on set of LOZ. but then later on said that they were mistaken. hmmm. you can take it as it is, that this person said something he shouldn’t have. or that he retracted his statement to prevent any problems or rumors. as with these things anyway, we will know as time goes by and as we see clues here and there. i’m just archiving this incident here for future use.

• Beijing same city 6/5 to 6/7 before wyb flew abroad for the french open.

• 6/6 XZ chongqing photos candies 📷

• WYB and the innocence of the little prince

• Look at them and their hats and long hair!

• french embassy paying attention to THEM!

• GG spotted wearing green tod’s shoes! and it looks like they purposely matched their airport fits 😭😭

• XZ’s dragonboat festival photos

• 6/11 xz and wyb together on the hot search

• The similarity in their ELLE magazine previews. you can say that it’s the editing from the same magazine publication that’s why this happened but it’s so uncanny!!!!

• weibo opening screen of their movies winning at weibo movie night!!!!

• August issue of MOVIE STAR magazine featuring them for CQL 5th anniversary!!!!

• venchi chocolate

• new apple watch after spending time in beijing

• rolex daytona paul newman 6263

• XZS chongqing vlog: stone island wardrobe, suitcase, ipad and same city (shanghai) - what i didn’t include here about the suitcase is that, i like the cpn of wyb bringing home stuff that xz’s parents ( in chongqing where he came from before shanghai ) has asked him to give yibo. it may be food items and other things and it makes sense that yibo is the one to take it back.

• 6/16 xiao zhan weibo posts a 🐽 and them posting so close to each other & some more clowning about a sus necklace, 18:23 and venus - i swear! this made me lose my mind! xz is so loud 🗣️🗣️🗣️on yibo’s end we got him imitating the family picture

and i forgot to add the betty boop that looked like she’s wearing luffy’s outfit!

• 6/17 zsww fake rumor

• a cpn compilation about the pig 🐽

• Loewe candies + them being in europe at the same time for 622

• going back to Beijing the same day 6/23!

• rufeng posts new audio snippet where wyb implies he is not jealous of wwx and wq

• them being number 1 for the respective weeks their new endorsements were announced. king behavior!

• tod’s x loewe business photo shoot looks! it’s matching!

• another example of ybo and xzs similarity ( yibo moment )

• the bonus content this month is a tarot card reading done for the boys. if you’ve been following me for some time you’ll know that this is my guilty pleasure when it comes to them. i understand it’s out there so feel free to skip. here is the original video. i will just share here the interesting part that made cpfs 👀.

reading was made 6/19 and people were asking about if whether they will go to europe together. the person said that it’s within the month and not a two person trip cause they will have people with them. and that they have been preparing for this. a section also explained how their state is, that it’s treating one like a husband and they will stay sweet forever. also how the two will remain “hot” or popular. and— that they will sign a contract to put themselves in equal footing which is not limited to a marriage certificate etc.

a part of it too which was asked is how wyb’s relationship is with his dad + i guess how he is taking the romance between him and xz plus other things ( probably ) idk how cpfs thought of asking this. i’m not implying anything okay? the question was “Has the father’s attitude softened?” OP said that wyb has not returned home during this period and him & his father is always separated by by geographical distance. there is no time to sit down and talk with his father so the final result is still a deadlock.But they have to talk and wyb needs to take the initiative to speak to his father.

• adding this here cause it’s blowing my mind how much they look alike recently. like this airport video of xz. i mean. he even move kinda like wyb. LIKE…WHAT…..

-END. See you next month!

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