#after years of just hiking shoes all the time

[upmala]

woman shaped day

[andypantsx3]

𝑤𝘩𝑒𝑛 𝑖 𝑚𝑎𝑘𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑒 : 𝑡𝑜𝑑𝑜𝑟𝑜𝑘𝑖 𝑠ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑡𝑜 𝑥 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟 : 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑡 𝑖

𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦: In order to placate your anxious mother, you agree to return to your hometown to participate in a mating run—knowing full well that betas rarely get chased, never mind betas nearly old enough to age out of the practice. You’ve decided to treat it like a vacation, a chance to visit with your childhood friends, the mating run itself a nice relaxing hike. All in all it’s a solid plan—until alpha Todoroki Shouto, your best friend's little brother, steps in and blows it all to pieces. 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑛𝑡: omegaverse, no quirks au, alpha!shouto, beta!reader, mating rituals, age gap, best friend’s little brother, older reader, afab reader, some class differences, aged up characters, semi-public sex, slight small town romance vibes, background implied dabihawks for some reason, smut, 18+; mdni! 𝑙𝑒𝑛𝑔𝑡ℎ: 5.7k | chapter 1 of 4

Then

It was a freezing day in spring the first time you set foot in the Todoroki house.

You had shared a class with Touya for years now, and in that time you’d become something of his best friend. You’d bonded early over a mutual hatred of fish and your status as the two best tree climbers on the playground—two integral friendship quality bars if ever you’d met them—and your entente had strengthened over the following months.

After enough time together Touya had even seemed to like you, seeking out your opinion, deploying you like a shield between himself and the other kids. He wanted to be paired with you for group projects constantly, as he seemed to disdain the ability of the other kids in your class.

He eventually acquiesced to two other friends—Rumi and Keigo—as Keigo was a really fast runner, and Rumi could kick a kid almost clear across a playground. But the two of you remained particularly close, and a few years in, Touya had seemed to want to check the final box of your friendship.

That was the day he’d haughtily informed you that you were coming home with him.

You’d phoned your mother from the school office to obtain permission, and then pulled your jacket on to follow Touya out into the cold, his skinny legs beating a quick path through the streets.

You’d half-expected that Touya lived in a box behind a shop, with the way he descended ravenously on his lunches (as well as yours, and Rumi’s, when he could occasionally get them—though notably not Keigo’s, something that had only retroactively made sense to you as an adult). But the house Touya steered you to was enormous—easily the biggest house you’d ever seen—a stately pile at the end of a fancy neighborhood.

You’d later learn this was because his father was the mayor, and the Todorokis were neck-deep in generational wealth. At the time you’d been mildly annoyed, because what had you let him eat part of your lunches for if he lived in a house like this?

“I’m home,” Touya had called into the echoey foyer, grand but strangely barren. He’d kicked off his coat and shoes, discarding them carelessly—perhaps purposefully—on the floor, then gestured for you to follow him into the kitchen as a warm voice called out to him. “Welcome home, Touya.”

“I brought Y/N,” he announced grandly as he prowled into the room. To you he said, “This is my mother, Rei.”

The voice you’d heard resolved itself into a woman, tall, with beautiful long white hair and a small, but unmistakably fond smile on her mouth. You startled, immediately floored by her beauty. She looked just like Touya, the same delicate prettiness to her mouth, the shape of her eyes—but even lovelier. She looked simultaneously like she belonged on the cover of a magazine, and would be embarrassed by one saying so.

She also smelled like an omega—sweet, but a little wilder than you were used to. Like spring flowers blooming on a cold day.

“Hello Y/N,” she said warmly, turning to you. You gave a shy wave back, suddenly nervous in front of her.

As she turned you finally noticed the child on her hip—a small, round, pudgy little thing with half red and half white hair, and two mismatched grey and blue eyes that pinned on you immediately. It was wearing a horrendous polkadot onesie, and you felt your eyebrows raise without your permission.

“That’s Shouto,” Touya informed you, and the pieces slotted together in your brain. Ah, so that was the face to the name.

Shouto was the little brother Touya complained about incessantly—the one that was his father’s favorite, the one that stared too much and wanted to play with all of Touya’s toys even though he was too little for them, the one Touya was saddled with babysitting constantly. He’d made Shouto out to be this sort of tiny harbinger of evil—but Shouto did not look very evil, perched there on his mother’s hip.

He blinked at you, a flutter of surprisingly long eyelashes, for a baby. You had the thought that actually he was kind of cute. Most probably not a harbinger of evil, and actually very sweet-looking, if weirdly round.

“I need to be excused from Shouto duty,” Touya said, the question posed more like a statement.

Rei shook her head, a somber little smile playing about her mouth. “I have to make dinner before Fuyumi and Natsuo get back from their playdates and your father gets home. Why don’t you take Shouto to play with you and Y/N?”

Touya rolled his eyes in the long-suffering manner of a man who’d endured it all. Shouto didn’t seem to notice, however, his mismatched gaze barely detaching from your face. You noticed Shouto’s left eye was the exact vivid blue of Touya’s, and his other eye the same silver as his mother’s.

“He’s staring like a weirdo,” Touya complained, but collected Shouto from Rei anyway. Shouto let himself be passed over as placidly as a bag of potatoes, still watching you.

“Y/N is a new face for him, he’s just curious, Touya,” Rei said, smoothing Shouto’s hair down as Touya hefted him in his arms. Shouto reached out a hand towards you, fat fingers flexing.

“What, you think I’m some taxi service who’s gonna bring you wherever you want to go?” Touya demanded. Shouto ignored him, his little chubby arm wavering.

Strangely, something compelled you to step closer, reaching out a hand in return. Shouto seized it in his pudgy little fist, staring up at you with solemn eyes. His other hand reached out to you, too, twisting in Touya’s grip, and Touya let out an annoyed scoff.

“Y/N didn’t come here to hang out with you,” he said. But Shouto ignored him, his little hand fisting in your tee shirt. He seemed to be trying to lever himself up out of Touya’s arms and into yours.

You were startled, never having held a baby before, and Shouto was kind of a big one. But Touya showed you how to hold him under his butt and across his back, and you heard the rustle of his diaper as he was handed off to you.

“Hi Shouto,” you said, watching him watch you.

His eyebrows raised, some small happiness lighting up his expression, and he gave a little kick that wiggled his whole body in your arms.

“He likes you,” Rei said over the counter top, as she settled a cutting board and a pile of vegetables across it.

You looked back at Shouto, feeling weirdly pleased. Maybe babies weren’t that bad.

Touya made an annoyed sort of grunt, stomping past you. “We’re going to play in the living room,” he announced imperiously. You glanced at Rei to make sure that was okay, then followed Touya, Shouto heavy in your arms.

By the time you arrived, Shouto had settled a hand on either of your cheeks and seemed to be trying to stare directly into your soul, and Touya patted him firmly on the back, clucking. “Stop being such a little freak.”

“He’s fine,” you said, bemused. No one had told you really little kids were this intense and weird. But Shouto’s little round face was kind of sweet, and it was hard to be annoyed at a baby staring up at you, that clearly enamored.

“Actually he’s being way nicer to me than you,” you told Touya.

Touya rolled his eyes and busied himself pulling out a horde of action figures, legos, puzzles, and games, as well as a turtle with multi-colored blocks set into it that appeared to be for Shouto.

“Oi, it’s turtle time, weirdo,” he told Shouto.

That seemed to break the baby’s singular focus on you, and he peered around, lighting up nearly the same way when he saw his blocks as he had when he’d seen you. You laughed, and helped him settle on the floor next to you, watching his clumsy, chubby grip fumble on the blocks as he carefully removed them one-by-one from the plastic turtle.

Touya set up the legos around you, an older parallel of his brother, though you thought he would kill you for saying so.

A block appeared in your lap, carefully and deliberately placed by a fat-fingered hand. You smiled down at Shouto, picking it up and gesturing grandly. “For me?”

A grey-and-blue gaze attached itself solemnly to your face, as if awaiting your judgment, and an instant fondness swept over you. Who knew babies could be this cute—when they weren’t screaming and crying and generally being small and annoying near you. Touya had massively undersold his little brother, who was the sweetest baby you’d ever encountered.

You bowed your head, clutching your gifted block close to you. “Thank you, Shouto. It’s very nice.”

Shouto stared up at you, smiling a shy little almost-smile, clearly pleased. You couldn’t help but reach up and ruffle that distinct tuft of hair, taken with him already. Yep, definitely a good little kid.

And you decided then and there that you liked Todoroki Shouto—though for now he was a child—you both were children—and he could only mean so much to you.

You wouldn’t realize how much he’d actually come to mean to you, until many, many years later.

Now

Touya’s white mess of hair was the first thing you spotted as you stumbled into the restaurant.

Outside it was unseasonably cold, an icy wind tearing through you as you’d rushed all the way from your mother’s house. The inside of the restaurant was blessedly warm, and slightly smoky from the meat and vegetables grilling away on each table top. Touya was on the far side, and you could see Rumi’s white hair beyond him, Keigo’s blonde riot of waves peeking over the top of the booth next to him.

Rumi faced the door so she spotted you first, a mouth-splitting grin overtaking her face as she waved you down.

You hurried your way over, letting out a surprised hrrk! when Rumi drew you down into a rib-crushing hug, her alpha strength barely contained. You fell into the seat at an awkward angle, your joints screaming.

“Well look what the cat dragged in! You don’t look a bit changed, you little beta cuck,” she crowed, making you choke on a laugh as you almost inhaled a mouthful of her hair.

“Rumi—!” you sputtered, half-pleased and half-scandalized that she clearly hadn’t changed in the years since you’d seen her last. She crushed you to her harder, and you could feel your eyeballs all but bulging like a rubber doll.

“If you plan to crush her to death you could at least wait until I clear the scene,” came Touya’s disaffected drawl from the other side of the table. “The last thing I need is police on my case again.”

That was so typical of him, too, after all this time.

“Good to see you too, Touya,” you said, even though you couldn’t get a look at him through Rumi’s hair. She ground her knuckles into the top of your head for good measure before releasing you, and you came up for air gratefully, watching the two men on the other side of the table grin at you.

Keigo looked exactly as you’d left him, a little bit more filled out than the skinny teen he’d been, the same wiry facial scruff growing in, those golden eyes alight with typical playfulness. Touya looked like he’d aged the most, his scars—fresher when you’d graduated—now deepened to the color of dark bruises. His features were still achingly familiar under them, however, the fine-boned prettiness of his mother shining through, his father’s blazing cerulean eyes the only nod to the other half of his parentage.

“So you really obeyed mommy dearest huh,” Touya said, pinning you with a smirk.

You rolled your eyes at him. As your closest childhood friend, he still knew all your weak spots, your mother the biggest of them. Growing up she’d been lonely and overworked, and you’d tried to care for her and please her the best you could. You still called her several times a week and sent back your wages to help pay for the house, and pay down the pile of debt your father had left her in when he’d died.

The concession of returning home for a few days to attend the annual mating run, as pointless as it was going to be, was the least you could do for her.

“You know as well as I do that no one is going to run down a beta,” you said, settling yourself in next to Rumi and shedding your coat and hat. “Especially not now that I’m well past newly-presented. It’ll be like a vacation.”

“You never know,” Keigo said, raising his fluffy eyebrows at you, his grin wicked. You flung the pile of your things across the table at him, but he intercepted easily, all alpha reflex. He stuffed your jacket down next to him, laughing at you.

“I do know,” you said emphatically. “And I’m not fussed about it. I don’t know who she thinks is going to pay her bills if I’m off getting dicked down by some knothead idiot.”

Touya made a dismissive noise and you looked around the table for something to fling at him too. He’d never had to worry about money, his future shored up with the Todoroki family fortune, built over generations and then basically quadrupled by his father. Since coming out of the correctional facility for a string of petty crimes, Touya had been skating by on family generosity, and you knew he wasn’t about to stop.

“Just burn her house down like mine,” he said, an unholy grin overtaking his face as he leaned forward. There was a light behind his eyes like he wasn’t entirely kidding. No one had ever been able to determine if the Todoroki family fire had been an accident or not, although Touya claimed it had been.

But you’d known Touya your whole life and you had your suspicions. Touya had hated his father for nearly all of your living memory—and the Todoroki men had an almost disturbing single-mindedness about them. You had long wondered if Touya’s fixation on his break with Enji had ever played into the fire that ravaged their house during your middle school years.

The one exception to the Todoroki single-mindedness was sweet little Shouto, who you’d last seen at your high school graduation. He was several years younger than you and had still been round-faced and chubby-cheeked then, all wide solemn eyes and pouty little mouth, just like when he was a baby.

You hadn’t seen him since, but couldn’t imagine Shouto turning out anything like Touya.

“I’ll take that under advisement,” you said to Touya, not liking how his grin widened.

Purportedly he’d come out of the correctional facility for good behavior, his record squeaky clean.

Purportedly.

“So why even agree to the run?” Rumi asked. “If you’re not looking to actually take anyone home?”

You helped yourself to the water that had been laid out before answering. “It’s just easier to appease my mother. She gets what she wants—some indication I’m open to my life mate-–and I get what I want, which is to be able to use this as an excuse next year.”

“Aww you won’t come back to see little old us?” Keigo asked. His tone was wheedling but his eyes tracked your expression carefully, always observing.

You smiled at him. You did miss your old friends, and you liked how easy it felt to sink right back into them after so many years away. You wanted to see them outside of the confines of a group chat or the rare facetime.

And you missed a lot about the town you’d grown up in. You liked the tiny storefronts of the downtown shops and the easy access to the coast and miles of hiking trails. You’d had a dream of opening up a little bookstore in one of the lovely brick buildings downtown when you were younger—but that was back before the staggering number of dollar signs on your mother’s bills had made themselves known to you and the romance of your daydream had begun to seem more like foolishness.

The bigger cities offered the bigger jobs, the bigger wages to send home. Even if it meant you could only see your friends every few years and mostly kept in touch via group chat.

“How about you guys come to me?” you asked. “There’s a chicken place I think Keigo will want to make the trip for.”

Keigo’s grin widened and he leaned in, interested. “Say no more,” he drawled.

On the table top, Touya’s phone vibrated. He peered at it, dismissing the notification with a swipe. “Rei wants to see you,” he reported, the usual blend of disrespect and unwilling fondness for his own mother layered in his voice. “She says you should come by the house.”

You smiled, pleased to be remembered. “I’d love that. Who’s living there now?”

Touya stretched, his back brushing the booth. “I do. And she does. Enji visits sometimes—” his tone was pointedly colorless “—and Fuyumi and Natsuo come by a couple times a week. Shouto is there almost daily for dinner when he’s not on shift, because his own cooking is absolute shit.”

You blinked, struggling to reconcile the idea of sweet-faced little Shouto with an adult who lived on his own now. “On shift?” you asked.

“He’s a fireman,” Touya rolled his eyes. “Little fucking do gooder. Ever since the house fire he’s wanted to.”

Your eyelashes fluttered again, your brain floating with the images of skinny, round-faced Shouto struggling to haul people out of a burning building. You struggled not to voice this disbelief.

“Wow, good for him,” you said.

“Not for me,” Touya complained. “Ever since he’s presented he’s been eating us out of house and home. Can’t find a fucking thing in the cabinets after he’s been through—”

And that shocked you, too, the idea that Shouto was already grown enough to have presented.

Objectively you knew he had to be into his early twenties at this point, but hearing the changes life had wrought on him was almost too much to contemplate. You wondered what he had presented as, and whether he’d be subject to the run this week as well. You’d always sort of suspected he’d be an omega, with that wide-eyed, beautiful face—almost a carbon copy of his mother’s, the same delicate prettiness in it as Touya.

And he’d been so sweet, too. When you’d been much, much younger—before Touya had become too cool and too emo for it—you remembered playing house together, remembered how often you’d dragged Shouto in to play the part of your son. He’d always sat there, a chubby-faced toddler, smashing blocks together and staring up at you with big eyes as you and Touya made plastic food and Touya unrolled a days-old newspaper collected from his father, bossing you around from his armchair.

Even when Shouto had gotten older and started to get as fresh with Touya as Touya was with him, he’d always been nice to you, always watched you with those same wide, mismatched eyes.

Yeah. He was most probably an omega.

“Well I’d love to see Rei, and Natsuo and Fuyumi and Shouto,” you said.

Touya stretched in the booth, not minding Keigo and thumping him right across the chest. Keigo squawked in annoyance.

“I’ll tell Rei you’re coming for dinner,” Touya said.

You smiled, pleased. You knew what a huge deal it was for both Touya and Rei to be in the same house again—both in recovery, both sharing the same space again.

When you’d left, Rei had been hospitalized and Touya had already been knee deep in petty crimes and utterly disinterested in any sort of overtures of help. For them to both be together again, getting regular help, with Enji out of the house and a rotating string of their family members checking in on them—you were happy to see them healing.

The buoyant feeling lasted all the way through lunch and too many drinks, until Touya shepherded you out of the restaurant, blazing a familiar path towards his family home. You followed, gratified when you saw that the Todoroki house was just as you remembered it, even the rebuilt pieces nostalgic.

Its grandness had been a shock to you as a child—not only in comparison to the tiny, squashed little two bed you’d grown up in—but that Touya had grown up there, in so vast and elegant a space. Touya who you dug in the dirt with. Touya who picked bugs out of the mud and put them on you. Touya who turned his nose up at dolls and ate things right out of your lunch box without asking, like he was a starving child without any access to food.

The house said otherwise.

Touya treated the Todoroki mansion with the same pointed lack of care he had as a teenager, kicking in the door as he led you inside, throwing his things in a pile in the entry. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes, fondly nostalgic over his shithead behavior.

“You missed a spot—I think there’s a bare patch of floor over there,” you said.

Touya gave you a narrow-eyed gaze over his shoulder as he uttered a string of objects you might suck.

You raised your eyebrows at him, smiling and unbothered. He’d always said it was your beta nature that left you unfussed with his various attitudes, taking everything in stride. You didn’t know if that was true—you’d always sort of suspected it was the strange, inherent connection you felt to him, and to the Todoroki family at large that kept you fond of him, even as he descended into teenage fury.

You didn’t know what it was, as you’d not ever felt it with your other friends’ families who you’d spent nearly as much time with. But if it netted you a lifelong friend, you weren’t about to question it.

Rei was in the kitchen like she had been that first day Touya brought you home, an enormous expanse of marble counter and vaulted ceiling that made her look unfathomably small. Her snow white hair had been cropped short into a page boy cut and made her look younger than her years, especially when she glanced up at you with the very same smile she had when you were a child.

“Welcome back, Y/N,” she said. You bowed respectfully, Touya scoffing and grabbing the back of the collar to haul you up.

“She’s not the fucking prime minister,” he grunted.

“And you’re not the boss of me,” you sniped, the drinks you’d both shared at lunch making you a little looser tongued in front of Rei than you’d have liked.

“Shouto will be by in just a few minutes as well, and he’ll be so happy to see you,” Rei said, smiling gently.

“Shouto lives on his own?” you asked, curious. Aside from picturing him as the skinny preteen you’d last seen him as, you also had trouble imagining kind, sweet little Shouto leaving his mother on her own—and with Touya definitely counted as on her own, for all the help he was. Shouto seemed devoted, familial.

“He’s wanted his own space since he presented,” Rei said lightly, clearly unbothered.

It was rare for omegas to peel off from their family units before finding a mate, and the strangeness of striking out on his own struck you even further. Maybe he wanted a nest to bring someone back to, after finding the right person?

You wondered if he was going to be participating in this year’s mating run, and made a mental note to try and find out if he wanted help avoiding any undesirable alphas. If he was an omega, your beta scent would help disguise some of his tracks, you’d just have to follow in his footsteps far enough away from the main track that a ranging alpha wouldn’t accidentally stumble upon it.

That thought was cut short, however, by the sound of the door creaking open in the foyer you’d just come in from. There was the sound of rustling fabric, like someone shedding their coat, and then footsteps padded through the hall. A hint of a scent met your nose, slightly sweet and smoky, with an undercurrent of something fresh—like a campfire burning on a cold, clear day. Your brow furrowed, the frostiness an almost-familiar dimension, like Rei's cold widlflower scent. Who was—?

Then a tall, unfamiliar alpha poked his head through the door, fluffy red and white strands of hair tangling across his forehead. He was an arresting sight—easily the most beautiful person you had ever seen, every single one of his features so perfectly and evenly placed, like he'd been put together deliberately. He looked startlingly like Rei, if Rei were a man, except for the fiery blue of his left eye, the shock of scarlet hair above it.

You stared at this new interloper, confused, until you were seized with a sudden memory of that scar, that same mop of hair bent over a turtle-shaped block puzzle.

No. No fucking way.

Rei smiled, opening her arms, and you gaped after him as Todoroki Shouto prowled across the kitchen to her, enveloping her in a hug. Where Touya was taller than his mother, his baby brother almost dwarfed her, easily clearing six feet, his shoulders broad and his frame packed with dense muscle. He'd always had the same elegant, sweetly beautiful set to his features that his mother and Touya did, but there was something sharper about them now, a slightly more alpha edge to him.

An enormous bicep shifted against the sleeve of his t-shirt as Shouto held Rei, and suddenly it was very clear how Shouto had managed to become a firefighter.

Something pinched your arm, hard, and you whipped around to stare at Touya accusingly. “Ouch!”

He smirked. “Don’t fucking stare like he does.”

You scowled at him, and opened your mouth to say something unsavory, until two mismatched eyes turned on you, pinning you in place.

“Y/N,” Shouto said. His voice was deep as midnight—so much lower than you had remembered—careful and smooth. The sound of it slithered up your spine like a shiver.

“Shouto?” you answered, stepping closer. “You’re Shouto? Are you sure?”

Shouto released his mother, only the tiniest corner of his mouth twitching. And that was confirmation enough. Shouto had always been a little serious, watching you carefully and intently. He was most like his mother that way—withdrawn, a little bit solemn.

“As far as I am aware,” he said. His tone was flat but you heard the tease in it, regardless. And that was so like him too, couching his inner little shit under the most serious tone, under those earnest heterochromatic eyes.

“Wish he wasn’t,” Touya muttered.

“Oh my god, Shouto. You’ve grown up so much,” you said, a strange thrill zinging up your spine as he stepped closer. That scent like campfire on a cold day washed over you, making you a little dizzy.

Shouto’s eyes got a little bit round at the edges, and something pulled at the corner of his mouth again, an expression you didn’t recognize. His tone was soft as he observed, “You are exactly the same as I remember.”

You could tell he meant it kindly, so you chose not to be offended with his obvious tact. You were well aware you were not a fresh-faced high school graduate anymore.

“I’m definitely older than you remember,” you said, resisting the urge to poke him in the chest. Your hand felt magnetized toward it for some reason. “Don’t be surprised if you hear my bones creaking all the way from the preserve during the run.”

Something sudden and strange passed over Shouto’s face, those mismatched eyes narrowing in on you.

“You’re running,” he said, his tone suddenly flat. “This year.”

“Yeah I’m back in town for it,” you said, ignoring Touya’s scoff at your side. “Gotta appease my mother. She doesn’t get that betas aren’t the target crowd for this, nevermind ancient ones. That, and I plan to disappear up a tree if someone so much as sniffs in my direction.”

“Up a tree,” Shouto repeated, sounding contemplative.

You wondered if he was internalizing how weird you were. He probably wouldn’t have remembered you being weird, considering how younger kids never thought to question their older peers. Maybe he’d even thought you cool when you were growing up together—you’d quickly disabuse him of that notion.

You nodded. “I’ve only been followed by alphas twice and both times I lost them up that big willow overlooking the bay, if you take the seaside path out two miles?”

Shouto’s eyes tracked you closely, like he was committing every word to memory. “I know it.”

You smiled. “The sea breeze is just enough to hide a beta’s scent, once you’re out of sight up there. I hope the city life hasn’t gotten me too out of shape to get up the trunk. Though to be frank I’m not too worried about it this year. Are you running?”

“Yes,” Shouto said, so quickly that it looked like he’d startled himself.

Touya’s head whipped around to stare at him, and Rei’s eyelashes fluttered momentarily, a weird stillness overcoming her—until a sort of look of understanding came over her features. You thought you caught a hint of a smile as she ducked her head to return to her dinner preparations.

“Thought you said you weren’t interested,” Touya said, his tone accusing. “You’ve never run before.”

Shouto looked deeply unfussed by his older brother’s sudden consternation. “Perhaps I have changed my mind.”

“The hell you did,” Touya said snottily. “You said you knew you wouldn’t find your life mate there.”

“Perhaps that has changed too,” Shouto said, his tone so dry that you could tell he was purposefully needling Touya. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes. Brothers.

Touya’s scoff overlaid the thump of Rei’s knife as she returned to chopping, and you realized how rude it looked for the three of you to be standing there arguing while she was working.

You hurriedly stepped around Touya and Shouto, peering over Rei’s shoulder. For some reason you were hyperaware of Shouto as you passed him, a thought you shoved right back out of your mind as you approached Rei. “Is there anything I can help with? I feel like I have years of free dinners to pay you back for.”

“I am almost done, but thank you, Y/N,” Rei said, as Touya said something in a haughty tone of voice, and Shouto’s low baritone answered. Rei’s mouth quirked softly at this—and you realized it was the same way Shouto smiled, small and private.

“—Not bringing home some weird fucking omega,” Touya was saying when you turned back to the boys. You startled when you realized Shouto had shifted to face you instead of his brother, and his body language looked like he was mostly ignoring him.

You channeled your sudden laugh into a fake cough. Touya eyed you sourly, long used to your tricks.

“Well if you want any help on the run, let me know,” you told Shouto, cutting into their argument with the practice of a beta used to diffusing things, especially between Touya and others. Shouto’s mouth twitched again like he knew what you were doing, and you watched his eyes pick over you speculatively.

You marveled at how far back you had to tilt your head if you wanted to look him directly in the eye now. He was so big, and so unexpectedly handsome—he really had grown up well. Some omega was going to be very, very pleased at the end of this week, provided he really did go after someone.

“If it’s your first you probably won’t know all the best hiding spots,” you told him.

Not that they were really hiding spots, considering most omegas wanted to be found. And there was no one on this earth who wouldn’t want to be found by an alpha who looked like Shouto did now. But he’d probably want to make sure he got to his intended first, before any other alpha found them.

Shouto nodded, leaning forward conspiratorially. “I will take you up on that,” his tone was low, intimate.

You smiled up at him, though something weird twinged in your chest. “Lunch sometime this week then? I’ll walk you through everything.”

Touya made a noise of disgust, and you shushed him. Shouto’s smile pulled into a quarter-moon sliver, sweet and beautiful. “I would like that.”

A strange little thrill zinged down your spine. You very pointedly did not think about it, instead shooting Shouto a thumbs up. And then, seized by a sudden need to get away, you marched forward to grab Touya by his collar, dragging him out into the dining room.

“Do you have to make your mother do everything? Let’s set the table,” you ordered him, shoving him at the cabinets. Touya swore at you, trying to twist his lanky body out of your hands, spitting like a wet cat.

But your mind was already elsewhere, occupied by this strange new turn of events. It really had been a long time away from your hometown, and much more had changed than you realized. You’d missed seeing Touya start to recover his life, you’d missed Rei returning to herself, you’d missed Shouto growing up into a man—and an alpha. You were suddenly overcome by the feeling that you did not want to miss any more, did not want to leave again—though of course that was foolishness.

The run was less than a week away, and you had train tickets back into the city just after.

And you had your mom to provide for, much as she wanted you to settle down with the first rando who got handsy with you in the woods. An alpha would have to bring more than an interest in you to your coupling in order to win you—and that was not going to happen, especially not to a beta, and especially not to you.

You laid the dishes out, resolving yourself. You’d enjoy this week, but never lose sight of the fact that you’d still have to leave at the end of it.

After all, it wasn’t like some miraculous twist of fate was lurking just around the corner of the Todoroki kitchen, ready to change your life.

[cutielando]

Hey I absolutely love your writing it’s amazing!!!!!

I really loved your lando fix where he loved to see you train and workout in the gym I was wondering if you would do it for Charles leclerc pleaseee if not that’s totally fine ily and your fics

gym rats | c.l.

warnings!!: implied active and gym rat reader, a lot of working out in a way

my masterlist

Charles had always been athletic, ever since he could remember. He had to, building up the neck muscle and tolerance needed to be able to sustain the force he felt every time he would get into the car, and over the years he had come to love working out.

Even though his day-to-day routine consisted of working out constantly, he would never ask his partner to exercise as actively or hardcore as he did.

He didn’t believe he should have a say in how someone else lived their life.

But ever since he met you and discovered your love for a healthy lifestyle and the passion that you held for exercising, he honestly felt like he had hit the jackpot. 

He loved sharing his love and passion for working out with you, aligning his workout times with yours just so you could be with him during every single one. It had become a habit of yours, your own little ritual giving you even more time to bond.

However, running with you was, by far, his favorite way to exercise. Getting to see so many beautiful views all around Monaco or Italy, depending where you were at the moment, being able to bask in the serenity of getting to share those beautiful moments with you.

Such an example was your current outing in the beautiful Monte Carlo, hiking through the mountains with Charles and Andrea. 

However, Charles had been slacking more than usual, always being steps behind you and in no hurry whatsoever.

“Charles, please stop staring at Y/N’s ass, we’re never going to make it back home in time if you keep this up” Andrea said once he had caught the driver falling behind you just to stare up at your behind.

You turned around and caught your boyfriend ogling your behind with no shame, staring up at you with wide eyes, like a deer caught in the headlights. 

“Charles! We talked about this” you said in a hushed tone, swatting him on the arm.

“I don’t know what you guys are talking about” he shrugged his shoulders and suddenly picked up the pace, walking in front of both you and Andrea all of a sudden.

You and his trainer shared a look, laughing before you followed him up the trail.

It took you a while to reach the intended target of the day, having to make multiple stops because Charles just couldn’t help staring at you, but you had made it in the end.

When you guys returned home and parted ways with Andrea, Charles was ready to take a shower and get into bed to cuddle you, but he wasn’t expecting you to have totally different plans.

“What do you mean by working out? Mon coeur, we just hiked the entire day, all we need to do right now is shower and cuddle” he argued, following you around as you prepared your bag to go downstairs in the gym for a quick session.

Working out in the evenings always helped you unload from the day, get in touch with yourself after a long day and just relax altogether. And even though Charles was right, you couldn’t ignore the feeling of longing when you thought about skipping a workout session.

“Baby, you know how important evening workouts are for me. I can’t sleep if I don’t work out at least a little bit” you argued back, chuckling at the sound of his stomps and huffs as he followed you to the front door. 

“Aren’t you tired, though? We’ve been outside all day, it hasn’t exactly been a chill activity” he said, still hoping to convince you to just get in the shower with him.

“Not really, no. If anything, I have way more energy and adrenaline to burn off right now” you said, putting on your shoes.

Charles sighed, realizing he didn’t stand a chance in convincing you to stay home. Instead of going about his business by himself, he picked up his shoes and put them on, making you furrow your eyebrows in confusion.

“What are you doing?” you asked, slinging your bag over your shoulder.

“I’m joining you. I don’t want to shower without you, so I’m going to come and watch you do your thing because I’m way too tired to do anything” he explained, opening the door for you and locking it on your way out.

You didn’t want to admit it, but you secretly loved it whenever he came with you to the gym. Even if he didn’t do anything, you liked just having him there with you, cheering you on so to speak.

When you got to the gym, you were feeling a little relieved that there was nobody left at that hour. You preferred when it was just the two of you, finally being able to take a break from your busy life and just bask in the feeling of sharing the same love for something.

“I’m just gonna run on the treadmill a little so I can burn some energy and then we can go” you said, pressing a kiss to his cheek as he took your bag from you and sat down on a bench nearest to you.

He settled for playing around on his phone for a while, sneaking glances at you every now and then. He even snapped a picture of you which he proceeded to post on his story, boasting about how hot his girlfriend was.

And as he sat there, your eyes finding his every now and then, he realized just how lucky he was to have you by his side.

He won in life.

comments and re-blogs help us grow!

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[simplyraeblue]

hunter and hunted (jjk)

college (summer) break au: a fic in which y/n is pining over Yuji's older brother Sukuna, while unbeknownst to her, Choso is doing the same thing for her. contents: sukuna x reader, choso x reader, modern college AU, yuji and choso are brothers, sukuna and yuji are brothers, smut warning, fem reader

chapter warnings/tags: lil bit of angst, choso's feelings are starting to show, drinking games, reader is starting to get butterflies from choso A/N: just a simple plot chapter! we're closer to a little choso x reader action, and sukuna may react poorly... ( • ᴗ - ) also no matter if there's smut in the chapter or not, I will always use MDNI!

index part seven | part nine

part eight word count: 2,912

you had decided that this weekend would be the best one of your life. after all, it was finally time for the annual summer trip that you go on with Yuji and your friends every break; last year it was the beach, but this year the group vote was to stay in a cozy cabin in the woods with plans for hiking and exploring. but your favorite part was the idea of making smores and drinking around the campfire.

“Yuji let’s go! we have to get a move on!” you yelled up the stairs, your patience wearing thin as you waited for him to hurry. you heard a clumsy thud from above, followed by a series of frantic footsteps. Yuji appeared, hopping down the stairs on one foot while struggling to put his shoes on fast enough.

“jeez, mom, I’m moving as fast as I can.” Yuji quipped, nearly losing his balance but catching himself on the stair railing. “why am I the only one getting yelling at?”

he had a point. you turned back to the stairs and hollered, “Choso, we’re going to leave without you!”

convincing Choso to join this years trip had been a small miracle – and Yuji insisted it was because you asked him to. normally, Choso wasn’t one for group outings, often dismissing your friends as immature and obnoxious. it was a mystery to you as to why he agreed to come along this time, but you weren’t complaining.

you silently thanked your lucky stars that Sukuna wasn’t around when you’d asked; he had been off on a trip with his own friends this week, conveniently coming back after you guys had left. with the increased distance between the two of you, you were slowly forgetting the anxiety you had about what had happened, instead opting to focus on the joy of hanging out with Yuji and Choso.

finally, Choso came down the stairs, at a snail’s pace you might add, carrying a duffel bag and wearing headphones around his neck. “I’ve got my music queued up for when we get in the car, so don’t even think about bothering me.” he plainly told you and Yuji, his expression already showing signs of the annoyance to come.

“Aw come on Choso. what if I wanted to play I Spy with you?” you teased, poking him in the side to agitate him more – but it had the opposite effect. instead of swatting you away and groaning like usual, Choso merely smiled at you and shrugged away from your intrusion, a hint of amusement flickering in his eyes.

by the time you managed to herd the two of them out the door, Nobara and Megumi were waiting by the car. Nobara was tapping her foot impatiently, her gaze sweeping over the three of you with a critical eye. “which one of you took the longest to get ready?” she demanded.

without hesitation, you pointed at Choso and Yuji, while they both pointed back at you. your jaw dropped in outrage. “hey! I was the one yelling at you two to get your asses downstairs!”

“doesn’t matter.” Megumi said with a sigh, rolling his eyes. “just get in the car so we can get moving.” he slid into the driver’s seat, with Nobara taking the passenger seat. you were left to squeeze in the back, wedged between Yuji and Choso. with a final round of groans and shuffles, you all took off on the journey.

being sandwiched between Yuji and Choso wasn’t the most comfortable arrangement, and there was absolutely no room to stretch out. Yuji, like a child, kept poking and pestering Nobara from behind her seat – this inevitably led to you getting caught in the crossfire, often receiving a swift swipe from the red head accidentally.

the drive wasn’t long, but it was just long enough to leave you feeling cramped and achy. you glanced over at Choso, who had his headphones in and his eyes shut, likely tuning out the chaos of the car. deciding to take a chance, you gently pulled one of the earbuds from his ear.

Choso’s eyes snapped open in irritation before he realized it was you. “can I listen too?” you asked, offering a hopeful smile hoping to persuade him.

he nodded, a soft smile spreading across his face. you took the extra earbud and popped it into your ear. to your surprise, Choso’s playlist was filled with lo-fi music – pleasantly surprising you. the gentle beats began to relax you, and you found yourself leaning against Choso’s shoulder, closing your eyes.

unbeknownst to you, Choso’s face turned a delicate shade of pink at the unexpected contact. he looked down at you, finding you utterly adorable as you sought comfort in his presence. his smile widened as he enjoyed the moment. just then, he noticed Yuji staring at him, eyes wide in disbelief.

“what the hell?” Yuji mouthed silently, his expression a mix of surprise and confusing.

Choso quickly mouthed back, “don’t know what you’re talking about,” before settling back into his seat and closing his eyes. even though he was eager for the car ride to be over, a part of him wished it would go on forever so he could savor your closeness a bit longer.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .

you hadn’t meant to fall asleep, but the gentle shaking your shoulder woke you, and you realized you’d dozed off for the entire ride.

“y/n, we’re here.” Choso said softly, nudging you awake. as you blinked away the remnant of sleep and sat up, you stretched and tried to shake off the drowsiness. “I think you drooled on my shirt a little.” he added with a hint of amusement.

your eyes widened in alarm as you quickly glanced at Choso’s shirt, but there was no sign of drool. Choso’s laughter only made your cheeks flush with embarrassment. “don’t do that to me; I was about to feel terrible for sleeping on you.” you snapped, giving him a playful swat.

once you all exited the car, you took a deep breath and stretched your limbs, relishing the opportunity to pop a few joints. the cabin that stood before you was charming and cozy, exactly what you’d been looking forward to. the surrounding quiet was a welcome change from the car ride chaos. you mentally noted to thank Megumi later for using Gojo’s card to book the place – or perhaps thank Gojo himself.

Nobara broke the silence, questioning, “so, what’s the sleeping arrangement?”

“I’ll bunk with Yuji, and the rest of you can get your own rooms.” Megumi answered, a smirk on his face as Yuji beamed with approval.

“but Megumi, you booked the place.” you protested. “surely, you should get your own room.”

“don’t argue.” Nobara cut in firmly. “we get our own rooms.” you suspected that Nobara’s insistence was partly why Megumi had arranged it this way. while you loved her to death, her sometimes picky nature made you relieved to not be sharing a room with her.

the group entered the cabin, immediately splitting off to go find the bedrooms and place luggage inside. you chose a bedroom on the second floor, away from the action, perfect. if you needed a quiet moment, you knew you would be able to escape up here.

while unpacking your bag, you heard footsteps approaching up the stairs. curiosity piqued, you peeked out of your room to see who would be claiming the other room on the second floor. to your surprise, it was Choso.

he caught your eye and smiled warmly. “coming up here for the quiet too?” he asked, his voice gentle.

you blushed slightly and nodded. “yeah, you know how those three can drink and stay up late. I didn’t want to be kept up all night.”

Choso nodded in understanding and proceeded to the extra room to settle in, the door directly across from yours. you felt a wave of relief knowing that Choso was your neighbor up here. it was reassuring to have someone who wouldn’t be a nuisance, and thankfully, he didn’t have his stereo system from home to blast music all the time.

once everyone had settled in, you all regrouped in the kitchen, where Megumi and Yuji were taking charge of dinner. they were in full swing, cooking up a storm as they worked together seamlessly. Nobara, perched on a stool nearby, pestered them with a constant stream of corrections.

you and Choso, seated comfortably at the bar, watched the spectacle with amusement. Yuji had thoughtfully packed your favorite drinks in the cooler before you all left home, and you took a satisfied sip from the can. even though you knew that the weekend was likely to be filled with drinking games, you were just content to unwind and enjoy your alcohol responsibly.

as dinner came to a close, Yuji, Megumi, and Nobara set up a game of drunk jenga in the living room, their excitement building with every clink of a beer bottle. Choso and you decided to bow out; it was the first night at the cabin, and you wanted to wake up refreshed without a hangover tomorrow.

as the night progessed, the room was filled with the sounds of laughter and playful competition. you found yourself feeling blissfully content, sitting a little closer to Choso on the couch and relishing in the comfort.

“who do you think is gonna lose this round?” you asked Choso, your eyes fixed on Yuji as he came close to toppling the wooden tower over.

“hm…” Choso pondered, watching the game intently. after a moment, he said, “I’m betting on Yuji. he’s been a bit clumsy this round.”

“wanna make it interesting?” you suggest with a playful raise of your eyebrow. Choso’s eyes sparkled with intrigue, and he tilted his head slightly.

“what do you have in mind?” he asked, his tone light but with a hint of challenge. for a moment you thought you felt butterflies begin to flutter in your stomach.

“if I win, I get to steal your headphones for the drive back.” you proposed with a grin.

“sounds fair.” Choso agreed, pausing to consider his own wager. “alright then. if I win, you have to go to dinner with me when we get home.”

your stomach did a little flip at his proposition, and you could feel the butterflies taking flight. “how does that put me out?” you asked, your cheeks warming up as you felt the heat rise.

“you’d have to pay.” Choso said with a grin, noticing your realization. “and I eat a lot – maybe not as much as Yuji, but be prepared for a hefty bill.”

you groaned in mock frustration, but there was an undeniable thrill within you at the wager. “fine, but I’m taking you to a McDonald’s.”

“what’s not what I –” Choso started to protest, but his words were cut off by sudden, unexpected knock at the front door.

everyone in the room paused, their attention shifting to the door with a mix of curiosity and concern. Nobara’s brows furrowed. “who the hell could that be?”

Yuji stood up, slightly swaying but with an air of confidence. “maybe it’s the owner of the rental.” he suggested. as he made his way to the door, you noticed Choso’s hand reaching back toward you, a subtle protective gesture that warmed your heart.

with bated breath, you all watched as Yuji turned the doorknob and pulled the door open.

you’d seen plenty of scary movies, the ones where a group of friends go to a cabin in the woods and run into an axe murderer, but nothing could have prepared you for the jump scare you received when the door opened

“guys, look who decided to show up!” Yuji exclaimed, his voice brimming with excitement as he gestured to the figure in the doorway.

“looks like my trip ended a bit early, so I thought I’d take my little bro up on his offer.” Sukuna said with a wide grin, his gaze sweeping over the room. his eyes landed on you, and his grin momentarily faltered before returning, albeit a bit force. he glanced at Choso, whose hand was still protectively reaching toward you. “Choso, didn’t think this was your scene.”

“y/n asked me to come along. I couldn’t say no.” Choso replied through gritted teeth. “didn’t think you’d show up either.”

Sukuna chuckled, making his way into the living room and sitting in a chair that, thankfully, was not next to you. “well, someone's gotta make sure none of you kids do anything stupid.” he said, his eyes lingering on you. you quickly looked away, feeling a flush of discomfort.

“we don’t have an extra bedroom.” Megumi stated calmly, though his body was visibly tense. you knew that Megumi and Nobara really didn’t like Sukuna, only tolerating his presence for Yuji’s sake.

“I’ll take the couch.” Sukuna shrugged, but his gaze remained fixed on you, making you feel increasingly nervous. “or I could share a bed if anyone’s willing.”

“the couch is fine.” Nobara said, her voice dripping with disdain as she caught the look Sukuna was giving you.

you felt like you couldn’t breathe the longer you could feel Sukuna stare at you. having Choso sitting between you two didn’t help much, considering he was beginning to act like your bodyguard making Sukuna only stare harder.

there goes your peaceful getaway.

as Sukuna settled into the living room, the tension became almost palpable. Megumi and Nobara exchanged uneasy glances, while Yuji of course remained unaware, but soon returned to their game.

you stayed put on the couch next to Choso, trying to avoid Sukuna’s lingering gaze. Choso’s presence was a small comfort, his protective demeanor evident as he subtly inched closer to you, his body language signaling he wasn’t happy with Sukuna’s intrusion either.

eventually, Sukuna leaned back in his chair, his eyes still occasionally drifting towards you. he made no effort to engage with the group’s activated, instead seemingly content to observe and occasionally interject with comments that seemed designed to provoke a reaction. Nobara was the easiest to rile up, and you heard her cursing at him every few minutes.

as if sensing the need for a break, Choso stood and stretched. “I’m going to grab a drink. anyone else want anything?” he asked. you took the opportunity to get up as well, eager to escape Sukuna’s wandering eyes.

you followed Choso into the kitchen, where he began rummaging through the cooler for another drink. “I’m sorry about this.” Choso said quietly as he handed you a drink. “I didn’t expect him to show up – honestly, I didn’t know Yuji invited him.”

you took a sip, appreciating the drink and Choso’s attempt to offer comfort. “It’s not your fault.” you replied. “I guess I thought this weekend was going to be relaxing.”

Choso shook his head, his expression shifting to one of mild annoyance. “I know he can be uncomfortable sometimes.” he admitted, his voice low. “he’s always been a bit… inappropriate around you.”

you nearly choked on your drink at his words. if only Choso knew the full extent. the thought of what would happen if Choso and Yuji found out about the bruises being left by Sukuna made your stomach churn. this was definitely not the time to reveal that particular little secret.

“actually, I appreciate the drink, but I think I’m going to head to bed early.” you said, your lips forming a thin line as you mentally cursed Sukuna for dampening your mood. you wanted to act like his presence didn’t bother you, but tonight, you didn’t have the strength to put on a brave face.

Choso’s hand gently rested on your arm, and his brows furrowed in concern, the tattoo across his nose wrinkling as well. “does he make you that uncomfortable?” he asked, his voice filled with genuine worry.

you couldn’t tell Choso exactly what you were feeling right now, so you just shrugged and gave a small weary smile. “nah, he’s just an ass. I’m just tired from the drive.” you lied, and Choso nodded in acceptance.

“I won’t let him ruin your fun, don’t worry.” Choso smiled softly, a gesture you couldn’t help but return as you set down your beer and rubbed your clammy palms on your pants.

“let me know who loses – I expect to find those headphones in my ears when we leave in a couple of days.” you teased, making him laugh, before you turned and made your way for the stairs.

Yuji caught your movement, shouting out at you, “y/n, you’re going to bed already?”

you paused at the bottom of the stairs, turning to give your best friend an apologetic smile. “yeah, just sleepy from the trip.”

you refused to acknowledge the fact that Sukuna was unabashedly staring you down, and you were unaware of Choso glancing between the two of you as you fidgeted with your fingers.

“if you need anything don’t hesitate to let me know.” Choso told you, making you look towards him. he offered you a smile, trying to make you feel better. “I’m right across the hall if you need me.”

oh boy, if only you knew how that made Sukuna’s blood boil.

you nodded your thanks, bidding everyone goodnight before almost rushing up the stairs. once you were behind a closed door, you let out a deep sigh of relief.

and all you had wanted was a peaceful getaway.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . taglist: @nighttwingg @sweetsformysoul @casualpoetrytaco @lvingd3adg0rl @haikomaiko @csolya @dealthypink if you'd like to be added to the taglist for this WIP let me know! ♡ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .

[twstfanblog]

Octavinelle Random Headcanons

Azul didn't actually become the Housewarden before he opened the lounge. But when he did, so many students started confusing him for the actual housewarden he just took advantage of the confusion until he actually became housewarden.

Azul has a personal beef with spiders. He wont explain WHY.

Its because he thinks of them as softly mocking him. How dare they, eight legs and fat body. ON LAND.

If anger enough, Azul can access his mer strength in human form.

The only time anyone's seen it was when he physically dragged Floyd and Jade down a hallway in their first year.

They all find 'Land Seafood' to be kinda werid yet really good.

They like to try new sushi recipes together.

Jade will slip in mushrooms in ANYTHING if hes left alone with the food.

Jade can get over stimulated by lights. They found that out their first year when a lightning storm sent him over the edge.

Floyd and Jade came out of the same egg which is WHY their parents call them twins

Small children trust Floyd more than Jade.

Azul keeps track of which twin is winning their 'Ambush War'. One of them will try to get a sucker hit. Physical or verbal over the other. Unsurprisingly Jade is winning.

As kids, Jade watched Floyd nearly choke to death on a plastic bag he tried to eat.

(He literally told Floyd to not eat it)

Floyd actually joined Jade on his hikes for a while, but the mountain trails were fucking up his shoes too often and he didn't like it anymore.

Azul's eyesight actually fluctuates between good and bad due to his eyes trying to shift to their natural forms at random times.

Jade is the older twin.

None of them can figure out why anyone has trouble telling Floyd and Jade apart. 'They clearly look different'

They all sleep with weighted blankets since they can't sleep in small spaces for comfort.

After Azul got the green light after his overblot, they all piled into Azul's bed and just cuddled.

[abibliophobiaa]

One word prompts are so hard for me cause they could go an infinite direction but what about the word Cherry with Steve?

don’t you call him ‘baby’

steve harrington x f!reader. angst with a happy ending. [2k]

——

There’s a cherry red stain on the edge of the grainy photo. The color of your favorite lipstick — the same color still on the collar of his old jean jacket. He'll never get rid of it, he’s decided long ago now. You’re smiling back at him, captured forever in this picture, the sunset behind you, a hand hiking up one side of your flowing dress, the fabric backlit by the orange sky, highlighting the curves of your silhouette. He doesn’t even need the photo to remember the way it feels for his hands to travel the pathway of your side, your hip, the contours of your thighs. And the memories of that day hit him like a freight train all the same, like it was only yesterday.

Your hand is in his as he peels away from the curb at Max and Lucas’ new place in California. Sun streaks across the sky still, his sunglasses perched high on his nose. He feels you squeeze him tighter, thumb stroking lovingly along his knuckles. He turns his head and captures your gaze, your mouth a firm line, eyes round and soft. Sad.

“You okay?” you ask, and he realizes that sadness is for him. Heart practically shatters at that, because you know him deeply — just as you’ve always known over the years without him ever uttering a word.

His lip wobbles, but he doesn’t cry, tries not to at least. Even so, you gather the tear that eventually streams down his face. Thumb it away so tenderly it’s like you’re trying to capture it — to encapsulate this moment. Max is gone, Lucas is starting a new career, Dustin is off to college with El, Will, and Mike. Robin’s getting married soon. And he’s peering at everyone through the window, wishing them well, watching them slip away with the passing of time.

Everything is changing, yet you remain, and though it aches to see his life changing so quickly and suddenly, you’re a constant. The thought alone has him leaning over at a red light and kissing you soundly on the lips, hands in your hair at the back of your head, his cheeks flaming hot when the light turns green and someone slams on the horn behind him.

“Let’s go somewhere,” you muse softly, a little to yourself, head against the doorframe, free hand twirling in the wind out the window, catching sunlight in the palm of your hand. “That sign says there’s a beach up ahead. I want to put my feet in the water.”

He smiles, squeezing your hand, thinking how he can’t wait to marry you one day. “Okay, honey.”

Soon enough you’re both running along the beach with your hands tangled together. You’re spinning. Twirling. Laughing as he turns you round and around on the beach, sand between your toes, sun kissing his skin, blissful words punctuated by lingering kisses. There’s a blanket strewn out nearby you brought along and laid out, shoes discarded, your newest book propped open on its front. Beside that is the camera he brought along for the trip, the same one he rushes away to grab, chest splitting in two at the wide smile that breaks along your face.

You’re perfect. Everything he could ever want and more in a person. Beautiful beyond whatever measure a camera could ever capture you within. The photo slides out and slowly develops. The same photo you hold pinched between your fingertips as you later drive back to your hotel, bringing your lips to the bare corner, leaving a cherry red stain behind.

“Give me your wallet,” you reach an arm out and he slaps the leather within, the picture sliding into an empty slot. “Now you’ll always have me with you.”

Such sweet words — if only you had known.

He’s not sure how it happened. How that one perfect day became a memory. He still remembers the feel of your warm skin after hours on the beach spent kicking up sand, dancing in the waves, falling into fits of laughter as you eventually fell back onto a blanket, hands tangled together as tightly knit as your hearts. Later you’d pulled him down against you in that hotel bed, blocked out the rest of the world, and relished the feel of two souls wound together like one. You whispered forever against his throat as he later curled you against his chest, with the sound of his heartbeat a promise to lull you into sleep.

But things changed. His anxiety after Vecna grew, he buried himself in a job he didn’t even want at his father’s company to run from it. Work became too much — distance between you grew, him on trips that drew him further and further away from Hawkins. He pushed you away, he knew it, you knew it, though neither wanted to admit it out loud. At first you fought about it, about how you wanted forever but forever couldn’t look like this if you wanted it to stand the test of time. And then the apartment grew silent. Screaming matches turned into quiet sobs before bed, when you thought he couldn’t hear you, but he did every time. The distance became a chasm, too far to broach.

Then you left. Packed your things one morning and chose yourself. He understood. Of course he did. Still it didn’t make anything better. Didn’t make his heart hurt any less.

Now he sits in the middle of your — his — bed staring at the photo of you. The box of things he kept of yours through the years stored beneath his bed, even after Eddie suggested he might want to put it away in a closet or something. It’s been six months, six months of not turning over every morning to find you already awake and propped up beside him, wanting the first thing he sees every morning to be your smiling face. Six months of wondering what you’re doing, wondering who you’re talking to, wondering if you’ve moved on.

He gets his answer that night.

Eddie’s shoving Steve along beside him. Clothes cling to sweaty bodies in the packed bar. Robin couldn’t make it, so the two decide on a ‘boy’s night out.’ They’ve not had one in a bit, since Chrissy’s just given birth to their first baby a couple months ago. But she practically pushes him out the door that night, promising her and their new son will be fine, that he deserves a fun night with his friend.

Only it’s far from fun. With July came the hottest weather Hawkins has seen all year. ‘A record breaking high,’ the news stations tout. All Steve knows is his jeans feel tighter than usual, his skirt is stuck to his sweaty back, and the woman he loves is standing at the bar with a man Steve doesn’t recognize.

“Don’t look,” Eddie warns, as though it’s not already too late. As if Steve’s not drawn to you like a magnet, even after all this time. “He could be a friend, or something.”

He could be. But the man is reaching over to rest a hand over your forearm, head bent low, eyes wide, and clearly engaged in whatever story you’re telling him. Steve’s not surprised. It’s one of his favorite things about you: this way you seem to captivate every room you walk into. Like he’s in your orbit, circling around you, pulled in close by your mere aura. Anyone who knows you loves you, he thinks — and they’re lucky for it. He’d been lucky for a time, too.

“Steve, stop torturing yourself,” Eddie says, giving his friend’s shoulder a little wiggle. “Here — let me go grab us some beers. I’ll be right back. Don’t do anything hasty.”

Steve shakes his head. What’s he going to do? Scream. Cry. Beg for you to come back. No — instead he watches. Feels his chest ache as you throw your head back in a laugh at something your date must say, hiding your smile against the lip of your glass, suddenly bashful when your eyes flicker up and clash with Steve’s. The drink in your hand falls and shatters and people rush to clean it up. Your date scrambles to find a stack of napkins, dabs at the front of your blouse, the gesture lost to you as you stay staring ahead, held in place by a ghost of your past.

Suddenly, like a light bulb flashing in your mind, you snap back to attention. He watches the bob of your throat on a swallow, the long rise and fall of your chest on your deep inhale and exhale, the forceful smile that curls your lips as you return your focus to your date.

The moment slips away as Eddie returns to the table, glasses in hand.

——

He’s not sure how he ends up here. Standing in your doorway, the ‘exit’ sign at the end of your hall flickering in the night. Your palm splays against the open door, mouth agape, eyes on his face, blinking frantically like you might think he’s an apparition.

“Please don’t tell me he’s your boyfriend.” Please don’t tell me you call him ‘baby.’ He hates himself for the tears that glimmer like pools in his eyes, hates as you reach up to cover his cheek when the first spills down his skin. “Damn it — I had a whole speech and I —” His voice breaks, throat closing around his words. You’re on your toes, face in his collar bone, clinging to him like he’s the very thing keeping you afloat at sea. “I quit my job, I started therapy, I’m not saying it excuses anything but —”

“Come with me,” you whisper, dropping back onto your heels, pajama shorts ruffling around your thighs.

Heat blooms in his belly as your fingers knit with his, dragging you further into an unfamiliar apartment. It’s very you. All your favorite colors and things, movies strewn about the living room floor, the grainy static humming on a television screen. A pot of half-eaten macaroni is left on a stove top, a plant on your kitchen table, books on a little shelf on a corner leading to a hallway. Lived in.

“Sit on the bed,” you demand as he slips inside your bedroom.

The blankets are messy, like you’ve risen from a nap recently. A stuffed animal he won you at a carnival rests beside your pillow, well-loved, as the fur is no longer as fluffy as it once had been. He watches stiffly as you reach down beneath your bed and pull out a shoebox. In your lipstick, you’ve written “Us” and decorated the top of the box with dozens of little stickers accumulated over the years. In awe, his gaze trails your hands as they pluck item after item collected throughout the years together. That first Scoops Ahoy napkin where he wrote his phone number down, that strip of photos at the photo booth at a carnival, your plush toy between your bodies as he kissed you that first time, a shirt of his from high school days that still smelled like him when you breathed deep enough, the little stack of Polaroids with all your memories scattered within. Early dates, holidays, Valentine’s Day, trips out of town with Robin, photos with the kids. Memories frozen in time of a life that feels so long ago — a life he still craves more than anything.

“I never got rid of them,” you mutter thoughtfully, holding up a photo of him napping on a lawn chair at his parent’s house, skin tanned, chest bare, marker scribbles by the kids on his face in the shape of glasses. “He’s not my boyfriend. I haven’t dated anyone since…”

“Me neither,” he swallows, inhaling sharply as your forehead rests against his. “I know I can’t…I know I messed up and I can’t take that back. But you deserve the world and I want it to be with me.”

“You’re going to give me the world, Harrington?” You tease, and he can almost hear the laughter in your voice as you reach down between the two of you to shove the memory box aside.

“If you’ll let me.”

“You have a lot of groveling to do,” you murmur, and he can feel your lips brush his, just a whisper, softly enough he wonders if he’s dreaming, “starting with this.”

He kisses you. One for every day he’s gone without. Until you’re falling onto your back and gazing up at him with stars in your eyes, fingers trailing his bare chest, lingering along the heart that thumps wildly beneath, singing of a forever.

——

[picksnrolls]

Hat Tax

Warnings- 18+.Smut.Mdni.RPF

Pairing- Caitlin Clark x Natasha Cloud

.

Caitlin stood at the elevator door watching the numbers tick up from 2 heading up to 15. She'd been hanging out with a few other basketball players and various people tied to the league and it's sponsors, at the rooftop bar in the hotel doing most of the athlete hosting. 

“Hey girl, I thought I saw you leave a while ago." Natasha walked up to her after walking into the hall from a different door. They embraced in a quick hug that ended a bit too soon. 

“Tash! I thought you left too, saw you walk out with Sophie.. was a little sad might not see you before I leave." Caitlin flashed a playful pout. “You heading home now?" 

The doors opened to the elevator, both stepping in. Natasha hit the lobby button, her hand hovering waiting for Caitlin to say which floor she was going to with a non-committal shrug. 

"Lobby for me too.”

" What, you comin’ with me?” Cloud responded with her own playful wink. "Nah.. let me stop playin’. ”

"I've gotta go to the front desk real quick. But uhh.. you can come back up and hang with me if you want.” Caitlin smiled again before heading to the lobby front desk after the doors opened. 

Natasha blinked back a hint of surprise but stayed right by the elevator door. There was a vibe she thought she was feeling between them, staying for a little while couldn't really hurt. 

Xx

“Can I get you anything? Minibar should be restocked, you can grab whatever you want.” Caitlin watched the Mercury player walk in and come to a halt, taking in the size of the one bedroom suite. 

Of course this would be the room she had. 

Caitlin plucked the red Phillies cap from Natasha's head and popped it onto her own with a shrug and a grin. “Hat tax." 

“Oh alright, I see you now." Natasha abandoned the want for a drink, her attention now fully on the girl moving around the space putting the few things she had been holding down, taking shoes off, readjusting the red cap on her head.

“I can always order up room service if you want." She said while settling down on the couch, skirt hiking up just the tiniest bit, showing off more porcelain muscular thighs. 

Natasha felt a little jolt as she stole a few glances of the sight sat before her. “Nobody else is staying up here with you? Or..?" 

“Nope. Just me." 

Earlier in the day she and Sophie had joked about whether or not either of them would be hooking up with anyone before the weekend was over, while she didn't think it wasn't a possibility, and still wasn't exactly sure how or why she was up in Caitlin Clark's hotel suite, the potential was becoming a little more real. 

“You can come sit, ya know. You can get comfortable, unless you have somewhere to be? I hear All Star Weekend can get..  I don't know, it's my first so..”

Natasha sat close enough so their knees knocked but shifted so there was some space between them. There was a little spark of.. something.. but she wasn't about to assume anything. Her eyes bounced from the expanse of uncovered legs to the neck she wanted to be nipping. The way Caitlin was biting her lower lip had her questioning her own resolve. 

“You know you're trouble right now." 

“What.. why? I promise I won't keep your hat." Caitlin wasn't usually this bold but the energy of the game and everything that happened so far had her confidence still running high. “Those boots though.. " 

“My Timbs?" 

“What size? They look like they'll fit, lemme try them on?" Caitlin sprung up from the couch.

“Taking my clothes one piece at a time?" Natasha didn't know why but she kicked them off. Watching as her boots were now on Caitlin's feet paired with her skirt and that white top, she was turned on and itching to touch every inch of exposed skin. 

“I can rock this, whaddya think?" CC did a hip sway. The boots and skirt didn't exactly match but the air between them was getting hotter by the second. 

 The thought of hooking up with the 8 year vet hadn't crossed her mind, even after inviting her to stay but in that moment, when their eyes locked while she was standing over her still wearing the boots, Caitlin desperately wanted to. The ache building between her legs taking her by surprise. 

Her inexperience started to show as she pitched forward to kiss Natasha, the brim of the hat slamming into the bridge of her nose. Caitlin instantly panicked, taking a step back.  "Fuck! I'm sorry.  I.. “

" Let's take that off? We can try that again if you're sure you wanna?” The hat hit the floor with a thump and the boots were kicked off and left next to the couch. 

The kiss was heavy and slow, the space between them closed as Natasha pulled her in tight, wanting to feel everything she could while still standing and both still fully clothed. 

Caitlin tried to rush things along again, gripping the hem of Natasha's sweatshirt and tugging upwards, the button up still layered over it causing it to bunch up. She flushed with a bit of embarrassment. 

“Someone's a little eager." Natasha said with a hiccup of a laugh.  

Caitlin’s blush spread from her neck to her cheeks, her inexperience showing again. "Sorry.. I just.. “

"Have you done this before?” Natasha ran her fingers up the back of Caitlin's bare leg stopping just under the line of the  leather skirt. The feeling better than she could have anticipated. 

"No.. this? No. Wait yeah.. I've been with other.. “ The blush started to clear but the thumping in her center steadily increased.

Xx

“Taaash.. fuck.. stop teas-"  Caitlin sucked in a harsh breath as she was pushed over the edge, her fingers digging into braided scalp and the rumpled sheets beneath their naked bodies tugged to the brink of tearing.  Her moans were half silenced by the taste of her own juices on the fingers being slid into her mouth. 

They had been going at it for hours at this point. Starting at the couch, Caitlin claiming the first orgasm out of Natasha while on her knees. They stripped each other down to underwear. Cait in a matching lacy grey bra and thong set, Tash in matching black sports bra and boxer briefs. 

Watching Caitlin sink to her knees tugging the boxers down, big dark doe eyes waiting for permission had Tasha wide eyed with her own arousal. Once granted she held nothing back and what she lacked in experience and skill she more than made up for with enthusiasm. It hadn't taken long after Tasha fisted dark hair to both hold on and guide the rookie. 

The pair moved to the bedroom, having shed the rest of what was left on their bodies, Caitlin's back hitting the bed with the guard landing on top, fitting between her legs. 

“I did not have this on my radar but I got a feeling you did. You do seem to get whatever it is you want." 

“Shut up I do not!" Caitlin emphasized her words with a firm squeeze of her ass. “But I did feel a little sad when I left the bar thinking I wouldn't see you again before the break. And then there you were.. " 

Natasha kisses and lightly suckled her way down the length of Caitlin's body while her hands explored. She tweaked both nipples, squeezed and massaged both tits, enjoying the size and response to her actions. When she reached the area just above her hair line she looked up waiting for permission. A quick nod came but she waited still. 

" I need more, I wanna hear you say it.”

Caitlin whined a bit, verbalizing the things she wanted in bed had never come easy. She sighed at the kisses being pressed into her inner thighs but whined again when they stopped. 

"Tash.. please..”

"Please? Please what babygirl? What do you want and like?” Natasha held down the hips that were trying to roll up, her center searching for some relief. She knew the effects she was having but would wait until she got what she wanted.

" Touch me.”

" How?”

" I.. with your mouth?”

" Is that all?” Natasha was barely able to hold back, the sweet scent pulling her in inch by inch.

“I want your fingers inside me.. FUCK!" 

Caitlin was so worked up she yelped at the first pass of Natasha's tongue through her dripping folds, it was a miracle she didn't cum right there. After being edged for what felt like an eternity, she was finally allowed to fall over the edge. The instant bliss was unlike anything she'd felt before. The sheer force of the orgasm had her shaking and mumbling and seeing stars.

The pair switched up a few more times, Caitlin cumming while riding Natasha's thigh, Natasha taking a quick explosive ride on Caitlin's face. The time had gone by in a blink but both women finally collapsed side by side in the middle of the king sized bed, trying their best to avoid any of the wet spots they each left behind. 

“Babygirl!” Natasha said with a light laugh. "That was.. I woulda never thought you could give head like that.. damn.." 

“Nah.. now you're just saying that.." Caitlin buried her face in the pillow, not really sure how to take that specific compliment but she'd let it feed her ego for the time being. 

Xx 

Caitlin's eyes flew open at the sound of a ringing that wasn't familiar to her, then she felt the warmth of the body pressed into her side. "Tash.. hey.. is that your phone?”

She burrowed back down under the covers and was just about to doze off when she heard the sound of her phone ringing and buzzing on the nightstand beside her. Without thinking she hit answer and Kate's face lit up the screen. 

"Hey.. what time is it?” She wiped some of the sleep from her eyes. Her hair still in a sleep rumpled mess. 

"Like 8:15”  Natasha answered and rolled into frame, not realizing she wasn't the one being asked or that it was a FaceTime. "Oh shit!”

"Who is that? What is.. where are you? Did you hookup with-" 

Caitlin had hit end call before Kate could finish her sentence. She tossed her phone aside and laid there trying not to panic. 

" Tell her or don't. Either is okay with me, whatever works for you, okay?” Natasha pressed a soft kiss to Caitlin's forehead, a look of sincerity written on her face. 

“Okay.. You want to stay for breakfast? We can order. Coffee's actually uhm pretty good here. "  Caitlin sat up, the sheet falling down to pool in her lap. 

“Babygirl. I bet you a red Phillies cap that the coffee doesn't taste anywhere as good as you. I do have to head out though. Got a flight in a couple hours and haven't packed yet because *somebody* kept me out all night.”

" I've never done *this* before.. like hookup with someone spontaneously. So I.. or do we.. is this..?”

" Enjoy Mexico.” Natasha walked back into the room fully dressed, hat in hand, she tossed it onto the bed with a wink. "Message me any time and if you want this to happen again.. and the circumstances are right.. yeah, I'm here for that. No hard feelings either way.”

" I might wanna wear those Timbs again.”

" I might let you..” Natasha yelled back just before the door clicked shut. 

Caitlin flopped back on the bed, phone in hand, blankets pulled up tight and FaceTime’d Kate. The second she answered Kate wanted to know all the details. She held out for a few minutes, fully intending to tell her but making her wait. 

“Was that Natasha? Tash Cloud?! I know her braids anywhere! Phoenix really rolled out the red carpet for you!" 

“Shut up! Wasn't like I planned it.. but if I did, she would have far exceeded.." Caitlin nestled back into her pillows, getting lost in the memories for a little bit longer while Kate confirmed their plans to meet up the next day on the Iowa campus before heading to Mexico for a few days of basketball free vacation. 

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The Rebound 4

Warnings: non/dubcon, body insecurity, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Curtis Everett

Summary: after a divorce, you try to start over.

Part of the Backwoods AU

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

You take a new path. You tell yourself it's to mix it up, to be a hit more spontaneous. You're downfall had come from being a creature of habit. 

So instead of north, you go south, away from the river and towards the ravine where trees slant and the land turns bumpy and peaty. You stop at the edge and peer down at the steep incline. You breathe in the slightly damp air, the night's rain still wet on the grass and bark. 

You're hypnotised by the lightheadedness caused by the drop. You slowly back up and walk along the border. You couldn't make the hike down though you've seen teens hanging around there. You press on, walking over even ground. 

A sudden snap has you on high alert. You look over your shoulder. You try not to think of Curtis, try not to assume or expect. You don't want to make a big deal of nothing. Lee always said you were good at that, where he did the opposite. 

There's no one there but you feel something beneath your foot. You look down. A snare. You've walked straight into a rabbit trap. Is it his? You wish you knew how reset it. Instead you'll have to leave his hard work spoiled. 

You make your way back to the road and follow it to your sister's house. He lingers in the back of your mind. You haven't seen him at the library. It's been weeks. You shouldn't care so much. You don't.  

He came when you weren't there. You know that. You saw his book in returns. Is he avoiding you? Were you that awkward? No, it's just Curtis. He avoids everyone. He's smart. Hammer Ford does not inspire trust. 

You enter the house, kicking the dirt off your shoes before you break the threshold. You leave the sneakers on the mat as you hear your sister with the kids. You look in on them and she gives you a sharp look as you offer a small wave. You cringe and go to the kitchen to get water. 

You hear the Bluey song play and your sister appears as you chug down a tall glass. You pull your lips of the brim and wipe the dribble down your chin. She looks tired. Kids do that to ya. 

"You've lost weight," Katie says. 

You should be proud for her noticing but even after two births, she's effortlessly petite. You nod, "yeah." 

"Great, and... how about a place? You found one yet?" 

She's never been particularly tactful. She gets that from your mother. Maybe that's why she's the favourite. 

"Looking," you assure her, "I have enough for a deposit now but not much around here." 

She nods and opens the fridge. She takes out two of the drinkable yogurts for the kids. You drink nervously. 

"I heard about him. Lee," she says as she stands on the other side of the island, "he's with some young one now." 

"Oh." 

"Good riddance," she sneers, "I never liked him. Never mentioned it but one time at Christmas... well, he made a suggestion." 

You frown. Why is she telling you this? It doesn't make you feel better. 

"Oh, I'm... sorry he did that." 

"We all tried to warn you," she shrugs. 

You finish your water and rinse the glass. It's easier than pointing out she was still a teen when you got engaged. Whatever. 

"Mom's coming for dinner tonight." 

You pause before you can set the glass in the rack. Great. Another judgement to come.  

"She wants you there too." 

"Okay," you don't argue. Twenty years of it with Lee, you don't need to keep it up. 

"Right, well, I gotta go look after the kids. Life, you know." 

She leaves and you put the glass down. You blink back her underhanded jab. You don't have kids or a husband or even a house. Look at her, taking in her tragic sister. How fucking merciful. 

🌲

Your mother barely acknowledges you when she gets there. She’s too caught up in her favourite and her grandchildren. You’re fine with it; used to it. You’re far enough in life that you know it isn’t worth it to try or care. Same as with your husband. Ex now. Officially. 

Finally, after the last months of struggling, you have some good news. The email was both a relief and a final punctuation. Now you can move on, just like Lee. 

You sit at the table. You have your chicken breast, a thoughtful portion of rice, and lots of green beans. You’re life might not be any more balanced but your meals are. 

As your mom finishes her preening and cooing over the messy toddler beside her, she turns to you. You know by the glint in her eye, it won’t be any different than your last conversation. Or any over the last how many decades. 

“How nice it is of Katie to take you in,” she chimes. 

“Yeah, very nice,” you gulp, “um, but not for much longer. Divorce is final. Lawyer’s fees will come off the alimony. Which I’m getting.” 

It feels nice to say it out loud. Hearing it come out of your own mouth makes it real. Makes it true. 

“When did you find this out?” Your sister chirps. 

“Couple hours ago.” 

“Wow,” both your mother and sister utter. 

“That’s great news,” your mother grins, “but you’re still divorced and childless. You don’t have much time left on the clock.” 

You look at your plate. For every win, they find a loss. Yes, that’s true, but you don’t want kids and after your marriage, you want a husband even less. One is just fine. 

[justasecretflower]

~🪻𝐒𝐃𝐕 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐚𝐬 𝐝𝐚𝐝𝐬~

Incl: alex, Shane, Elliot, Harvey, Wizard, Willy, Gunther, Sam, Sebastian.

‼️Do not reblog‼️

_____________________________________

𝘈𝘭𝘦𝘹－ he’s such a boy dad. He’d be the type to want a lot of boys but end up with a little boy and then a girl right after.

- he’s REALLY disconnected during the pregnancy with the girl. When you finally get it out of him of why he says he just doesn’t think he can relate to her as much as he can with a boy.

- you convinced him to read some parenting books. He did, while doing his daily crunches.

-slowly warmed up to the idea..

-he was her favourite parent. 100%.

-he let his nails get painted, face masks, little rainbow beaded bracelets.

-Loves doing family hikes, runs, gridball games, all that physical activity stuff.

- his kids love him so much.

Shane- girl dad. I really can’t see him having a boy.

- he’s very loving and doting. All of her drawings are on the fridge and honestly they’re completely covering it to the point you can’t even see the silver anymore

-Had a problem with sending her to school.

- “just one more year.” Kinda dad

- he loves his little buddy. She helps with his chickens and they have fun. Why would he ever want her away for hours every day?

- when she finally got to her first day of kindergarten. He gave her a kiss on the cheek and realised that it wasn’t that bad and stopped worrying.

𝘏𝘢𝘳𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 - boy dad. And he’s the shyest, sweetest, most polite little boy ever.

- the little boy would be decked out in either Ralph Lauren or knitted sweaters with little animals or insects on them

-I have a feeling Harvey’s son is either obsessed with bugs or dinosaurs..idk

- Harvey stays away from insects but definitely acts like he isn’t scared of them.

- the kid has a bug watch where he can put them in a little watch and carry them around.

- such a health nut with his son. No extra sweets, or more juice. Bundles him up during winter. Maybe a little overboard he just loves his little boy so much:(.

Elliot - i see him being a parent to both? He has very polite kids and they speak fresh out of the 1800s. Thanks to him. But they’re very picky towards everything.

- his daughter wears those frilly white socks and cute little ribbons in her hair all the time (which is Elliot’s hair colour.)

- his son wears his hair slicked back and those black shoes.

- Elliot picks his kids outfits out. Does his daughter’s hair while she eats breakfast and kicks her feet.

-Elliot reads his kids to sleep, has a designated reading nook in each of their rooms. Has little notebooks that they write about their day in.

- Mentions his kids in his book. In the dedication before the story, in the “about the author” section, little side characters like his kids, everywhere.

Wizard- he’s really awkward as a dad. But he tries!

- a boy and girl dad, he has no preference.

- teaches his kids magic.

- can’t punish his kids for the life of him, he just can’t, y/n, you do it.

- his kids aren’t allowed to use magic to clean their rooms / do chores but if they do he isn’t gonna tell 😭.

- “Wanna hear how I met your mother?” He tells your kids stories from your youth ALL. THE. TIME!!

Willy- tears, tears, tears, when he holds his newborn for the first time and tells people all the time he doesn’t care.

- neither a boy or girl dad. He just loves his kids.

- “grab it d/n!!” *his daughter, in literal tears* “I CANT DADDY😰😭”

- both of his kids are fishing, they both have their own mini poles. His daughters has her name in pink sparkles and princesses on it.

- his sons has little dinosaurs on it with his name in bold green print.

- I’m leaning more towards Willy’s daughter loving animals, fish included, so she breaks down whenever a fish dies or gets hurt. At a point Willy has to lie about the fish they have for dinner.

- “this fish? Oh no baby this fish was already dead! It’s not one of the ones I caught today!” Daughter - :)

- hates sending his kids off to school. “Why do they need it? They can learn how to fish and own the store?” Is his line 24/7 every morning before school.

- Willy and ur kids will gang up on you and they’ll fake sick if they promise Willy they’ll go fishing (🙄).

Sam- he’s the fun parent. Again, not a girl or boy dad.

- his daughter match nail polish.

- his kids have mini skateboards (my dad got me a mini skateboard when I was younger as well:) )

- always nagging them about a helmet or kneepads when he himself doesn’t even wear them?

- writes songs for them, and lullabies to go to sleep.

- he can’t dress his kids to save his life, especially his daughter.

- she has baggy jeans on, a pink tutu, baggy hot pink princess shirt, and mismatched white and pink converse.

- “Sam what is my daughter wearing.” “..clothes..”

- tries to teach ur son how to swoon girls. I heard a story about a little boy telling a cute older woman that he has big building blocks at home and made motorcycle noises for 10 minutes.

-that’d be his son.

- also, he can’t cook. Don’t leave him alone with the kids it’s cereal/ McDonald’s for dinner and Ice cream for breakfast.

Sebastian- stops smoking when he finds out you’re pregnant/ adopting.

GIRL DAD!!!

- his daughter is really introverted like him. They take little cat naps together.

- speaking of cats, you have one.

- she finds her dads work so interesting; sits there and watches her daddy work.

- you have to force now both of them out of the house.

- your daughter is the definition of dressing down EVERYWHERE.

- she has little pink sweat sets galore. Doesn’t like dressing up.

- he can’t really express his love for his girl, so he does it with tiny things like randomly reading to her, or sometimes giving her a lil forehead kiss just cuz.

Gunther- I CAN’T DECIDE IF HE’S A GIRL OR BOY DAD..😟

- teaches his kids history

- takes them out digging.

- I feel like..his son would be the lazy one when it comes to digging up bones with dad💀

- “can we stop now?..” - son “NEVER!!” - daughter

- your son definitely likes to be more of a hermit, your daughter likes to go out digging, watch video essays about the 16-1800s and stuff.

- she’s obsessed with those huge puffy dresses from the Rocco era. She has a whole clothing rack just for those type of styled dresses.

- Gunther likes slow dancing with his little girl.

- tries his absolute best to engage in whatever your son likes.

————————————-_________________———————

Hope you liked this!! Please request some more stardew HCS with the “🪻” emoji! This tells me you want more of Stardew Valley

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[thesightstoshowyou]

Au Courant

- Part 2 -

(Read Part 1 here)

Asa Emory x AFAB Reader

Summary: The night of your weekly support group doesn’t go as planned either.

Warnings: Soulmate AU, angst, violence, attempted mugging, mention of minor character death, manipulation, mentions of stalking.

~~

Chilly evening wind gusts, crispy leaves rustling around your feet as you walk. The breeze stirs up the scent of decaying foliage and rotting trash from a nearby dumpster. Wrinkling your nose, you shrug further into your jacket, wishing you’d worn another layer. The quick tap, tap of your shoes echoes off brick as you pick up your pace.

Ahead lies your destination: An unassuming little church, brick facade freshly power-washed and cleaner than the surrounding buildings. The light above the door shines bright in the gloom, illuminating various fliers taped to glass.

‘One is Enough: Support group for former and non-Pairs. Tuesdays at 6pm,’ one such paper reads. You purse your lips as you heave the door open, still embarrassed to be attending these meetings at all.

It has been almost two months since that day at the grocery store. You thought, maybe after a little time had passed the ache would lesson, but it’s just as sharp, just as crushing as it was when he’d left you in that parking lot.

You’d gone back several times since then. Waiting in your car, eyes trained on the door, you prayed he would show up. If you could just talk to him, just for a few minutes, maybe he would—

Shaking your head, you force yourself to stop spiraling. Replaying these scenarios in your head isn’t healthy. They only make you feel worse. He hasn’t returned to the grocery store. You won’t see him again. You must accept this.

You just wish you knew his name, at least.

Descending the stairs to the right of the door brings you to the basement. A few florescent lights flicker at the far end of the room, illuminating the circle of plastic folding chairs. Nearby sits a little table, customary carafe of hot water and assorted tea and instant coffee packets littering its surface.

Christ, it’s fucking bleak.

You sit quietly and listen, little paper cup of earl gray growing cold in your hands. It’s a full house tonight; many faces you’ve seen before. They mostly talk of loss, of soulmates that passed away too soon. Some speak of isolation, of never finding their other half.

None, however, had a soulmate reject them.

You decline to speak when asked to share your story. You can’t talk about it, not yet. It’s too fresh, and the mortification of having to disclose the fact that not even your soulmate wants you is something you can’t bare to say aloud. Better they think he died.

It kind of feels like he had, anyway.

Meeting adjourned, you stand and make your way back to the stairs, tossing your full paper cup in the trash as you go. You’re out the door and hiking your jacket up around your shoulders when you hear your name called behind you.

Turning, you find Alan, one of the group leaders hurrying out the door after you. His soulmate died a few years ago, poor guy. He beams when you meet his gaze and gives an awkward half wave as he catches up to you.

“Hey, uh, thanks for coming tonight.”

Weird. “Yeah, it’s…um, nice to be with people that get it, you know,” you comment, forcing a wan smile to your face. Alan nods, glances at his feet, back to your face. He sucks in a breath before he speaks.

Oh no. No, no, no, no—

“Um, hey I was…I mean, if you’re feeling up to it, would you, uh, like to…to get some coffee sometime?” You bite the inside of your cheek and muster every ounce of willpower to keep from grimacing.

He’s nice, really, but it’s just too soon. God, you’re never going to be able to come back here, are you?

“Oh! Oh, goodness, that’s…that’s really kind of you, Alan, but I’m not…not sure I’m ready. Yet.” You add the last word to soften the blow. Would you ever be ready? You’re not sure it’s even possible.

Alan smiles gently, warm understanding all over his face. You hope your expression is passive. “Hey, I totally get it. Maybe another time.” He moves to head back inside, then quickly spins around again to add, “Please don’t let this stop you from coming. We’re good, really, okay?”

You fake a grin and nod, hastily turning away so he can’t talk to you anymore. Shit, there goes that group. There have to be others, right?

Wrapping your arms around yourself, you bow your head against the frigid breeze as you hurry back to your car, mood now as sour as the weather. Why did he have to go and ruin this for you—

“Hey.” You startle when a voice speaks directly into your ear. Whipping around you find a young man inches away from you. You hadn’t heard him approach over the blasting wind.

You try to back away but he grasps your arm tightly. “Money. Now. Don’t make a scene.” Your stomach plummets when he produces a knife from his pocket, streetlights glinting off the blade.

You stammer, “I-I don’t have—

“Shut up. Give me what you have.” Blood rushing in your ears, hands shaking, you nod, wondering what the hell you’re going to give him. Everything is in your car. Maybe he wants your keys…?

Behind you, quick footsteps approach. The young man balks, releases you, backs away. Hurriedly, you stumble backward, bumping into whoever had interrupted. Strong hands grip your upper arms, steadying you.

Glancing over your shoulder, your mouth falls open in shock. It’s him. The man from the grocery store.

Your soulmate.

He wears that same cold expression he had at the supermarket. He’s not looking at you though, his dark gaze instead trained on the would-be thief.

He releases you just as the young robber attempts makes his escape. You watch in stunned silence as your soulmate pursues, powerful legs giving him a surprising burst of speed. The thief darts down an alley, the man hot on his heels.

Now, silence, save for your frantic breathing. Your wide eyes are glued to where you watched them disappear, your heart throwing itself wildly against your ribs. What if he gets hurt, or worse? What should you do?

The wind blusters, sending goosebumps racing across your skin. You’re about to call for help when a dark figure emerges from the alley. The air leaves your lungs in a rush of relief, your trembling hand gripping the front of your coat. He’s okay!

And he’s walking right toward you.

You swallow thickly, your heart now hammering for a different reason. What will you say? How will he respond? Are you about to get your heart broken again?

Wait, what the hell is he even doing here?

“Are you alright?” You blink and dazedly look up into his eyes. They look black in the darkness, glittering in the light of the street lamps just as the knife had.

“I…yeah, I think so. T-Thank you.” Your voice quivers as you speak and you realize you’re trembling from head to toe. Is it from fear or the chill air?

“I lost him,” the man laments, motioning to the alley. You nod, amazed he even went after him in the first place.

“Should…do I need to call the cops or something?” You hate that you sound so helpless in front of him.

“Do you remember what he looks like?”

You pause, realizing you can’t even recall what clothes he’d been wearing. Timidly, you shake your head. The man shrugs.

“Not much they can do then.” You nod, your teeth worrying your bottom lip. The urge to reach out and touch him is almost too great to resist. He watches you so intently, keen eyes trained on every shift of expression, every movement of your nervous hands.

What is he thinking, you wonder? Is this it? Will he leave now, for good?

Instead, he surprises you. “Let me walk you to your car.” You can’t suppress the hopeful smile tugging at the corners of your mouth.

Your heart stutters when his warm palm finds your lower back. He turns and guides you down the street toward your vehicle. His body is warm too, comfortingly so. You hope it’s not too obvious when you lessen the gap between you, your arm brushing his as you move.

You walk in silence for a few beats, gathering the courage to say what’s been on your mind for weeks. Clearing your throat, you steel yourself.

“Why did—

“I panicked,” he interrupts. Taken aback, you glance up at him. He offers you a wry smirk. “I wasn’t expecting you.”

You shake your head, baffled. “Does anyone?” you ask. A quick breath leaves him, the barest hint of a laugh.

“I suppose not.”

“And…what are you doing here?”

“I just happened to drive by, as crazy as it sounds. I saw you walking and knew I had to turn around.” His words make you look down to your shoes, heat spreading across your cheeks. Fate had intervened again, it seems.

All too soon, you reach the parking lot. Coming to a stop next to your car, you turn to face him. His lips press into a line and you can almost see him thinking, considering. Your hands wring anxiously.

“My life is…complicated,” he says finally. His words are measured and there’s something there just under the surface, some urgent need for you to understand.

“I don’t care,” you reply instantly, taking a step closer to him. It’s like there’s a magnetic force pulling you in. “I don’t. I just want to be a part of it.”

This close, you can see the muscles in his jaw flex. He breathes in deeply, his exhale a heavy sigh. “My name is Asa,” he says finally.

You smile so wide your face hurts.

**

Asa watches the taillights of your car until they disappear around a corner. Only then does he allow a victorious smirk to cross his face. He will never tire of the satisfaction of success.

The Collector turns on his heel and strides back down the street. One more task to complete before the night is over.

Everything had gone optimally. The druggie had played his part of “thief” perfectly, thanks to the cash Asa had given him a few hours prior. Snapping his neck in the alley had been so easy. Heaving his dying body into the dumpster had been less simple, but still manageable.

What he said to you was a different matter. Telling you the truth was difficult, much harder than he previously anticipated. Indeed, he had panicked when you’d run straight into his arms, or panicked as much as someone like him could. Meeting his soulmate had not been in his plans. Asa doubted such a thing even existed for him in the first place, and that was preferable.

You were a liability. Getting caught was not an option. The last thing Asa needed was you stumbling into his carefully curated life and spilling marina all over the place. So, he’d left.

But, you would not leave his mind. Your meeting had awoken something deep inside him, some need. The obnoxious ache gnawing away at his gut grew tiresome. As he followed you home from the grocery store parking lot, watched you leave from work to attend your silly support group, as he learned your schedule and your habits from afar, his thoughts had drifted to the potential.

A partner, even more so a soulmate would aid with his disguise: Dr. Asa Emory, entomologist, professor, and now one half of a loving Pair. It’s the epitome of “normal.” Perhaps having you around would also quell the incessant nagging of his coworkers. This is not necessary, of course, but it would be welcome none the less.

You saw him, as well. When you’d collided, you looked into his eyes and caught a glimpse of what he kept so well hidden from everyone else. Asa had seen it on your face, the fear, the understanding. And, still, you chased after him. You wanted this, wanted him. Maybe you could want the Collector too.

Could you learn to understand?

Faking tonight’s emotions, the nerves, the story he fed you about “just driving by” shouldn’t have been so simple, but you’d accepted everything without question. Your gullibility is ideal. Everything about you seems to work in his favor. Is this luck? Or is this what it is like to be a Pair?

Time will tell.

Now, Asa turns his attention to the church door. He only has to wait a few minutes before it swings open. A man exits, papers clutched under his arm. The light above the door illuminates his face when he turns to lock up. It’s him, the one who asked you out earlier this evening.

Peering around the corner, Asa watches the man adjust his coat before heading off down the street. After a slow count to ten, Asa follows, stalking silently.

One more task tonight; a lesson to be taught, a price to be paid in blood.

You belong to the Collector, and the Collector does not share.

[steddielations]

Based on this fanart!

Eddie gets into Steve’s interests too.

Steve doesn’t have many hobbies apart from babysitting and sports, but over the years, he’s come to love being outside. That’s how he found skull rock, wandering in the woods for hours. It clears his mind, getting away from everything. He likes to run too and get his heart pumping, work out his stress.

Eddie was never one for the outdoors, he prefers to be holed up in his room playing guitar, planning campaigns, reading, watching movies and stuff. But he decides to give the “outside thing” a chance because Steve has always been so great about trying Eddie’s interests, so Eddie wants to do the same for him, and agrees to go on a hike together.

“I can’t believe this is your idea of romance,” Eddie groans, slapping a mosquito off his arm.

“Hey, I never said it was romantic,” Steve shrugs, he looks so put together with his sunglasses and fancy running shoes, while Eddie’s a mess after only a couple hours of hiking. God, if Eddie didn’t love him so much, he’d hate him.

“It was implied when you asked me on a date to the woods with you,” Eddie tucks the stray hairs back into his bun, going for casual despite his tired arms feeling like jelly, “You know, if you wanted to see me all hot and sweaty, there’s other, easier, much more pleasurable ways to do it.”

Steve snorts, “This was your idea. You wanted to come.”

“Because I’m a good boyfriend who wants to do the stuff you like with you.”

“What do you mean?” Steve asks, automatically reaching for Eddie’s hands to help him step over a large rock because he’s just so perfect like that, “I do like all the stuff we normally do together.”

“Yeah but it’s always my stuff, and you don’t make fun of it and you like it cause you’re just so damn perfect, and I wanted to do the same for you.”

Except he’s failing miserably, trying to hide how badly he wants it to be over, trying to be as perfect for Steve as Steve is for him.

“Oh.” Steve looks stunned, like he didn’t realize he’s worth such a gesture and it makes Eddie want to shower him with affection until he knows how much he means to him, “Well that’s… sweet of you.”

“Yeah yeah, it’s gonna lose all sentiment if I pass out trying to impress you. How much further? Jesus, how are you not tired at all!”

“Some of us actually participated in gym instead of selling weed under the bleachers,” Steve smirks and Eddie’s heart skips not just from exertion, “We probably should’ve taken a shorter hike for your first time. Maybe we should go back.”

“What? No, y’know the nature thing isn’t so bad once you get passed the bug bites and the sunburn and the muscle aches,” Eddie tries to keep going but Steve comes to a stop in front of him, brows furrowed in concern behind his sunglasses, “I mean, my legs are totally supposed to feel like noodles, right? I’m doing great.”

Steve reaches out, gently brushing Eddie’s sweaty hair off his forehead, “I think you’ve pushed yourself hard enough, baby, your face is beet red, you’re shaking. We’re going back now. Here hop on, I’m carrying you to the car.”

He doesn’t offer any room for argument, kneeling down so Eddie can climb onto his back. As humiliating as it is, Eddie relents because he’s honestly exhausted. He locks his sore arms and legs around Steve, clinging to him, quiet for most of the way, feeling like he ruined the whole thing.

Steve must sense it, because he jokes, “Gotta say, I’m really feeling the romance now.”

Eddie smiles against the warm skin of Steve’s neck, “Shut up, I hate you.”

“No you love me,” he can hear the soft smile in Steve’s words, “You did this for me.”

He shouldn’t sound so amazed by that. As if there’s anything Eddie wouldn’t do for this damn boy.

“And I’ll do it again,” Eddie accentuates his point with a kiss to Steve’s cheek, “And again,” another, “And again until I get better at it.”

Steve chuckles, squeezing Eddie’s thighs teasingly, “You don’t have to, not if you don’t want to.”

“I wanna do everything with you, sweetheart,” Eddie says, means it, “Love you.”

And they do go hiking again, they go on lots more, shorter hikes on cooler days. Steve always brings a backpack with extra water, and snacks and bug spray and sunscreen and whatever else Eddie might need to stay comfortable.

Which, Eddie insists that Steve needs those things too. It sort of pangs his chest every time Steve only seems to remember his own needs as an afterthought, but it’s okay, they take care of each other.

Eddie finds that he doesn’t mind “the outside” so much when he’s with Steve. On every hike, he’ll pick up a cool rock or a shiny chunk of minerals and give it to Steve, who always says “oh nice, thanks, babe” and shoves it in his pocket.

Sometimes they see animals and name them after rockstars or Steve’s favorite basketball players. Sometimes they talk a lot, other times they’re more quiet, just holding hands as they tread through the leaves together.

Eddie’s favorite hikes are the ones right at dusk. They have a spot high up in the woods that no one else would ever be able to find, with the best view of the sunset over Lover’s Lake. They always sit and watch the colors melt into the water, Steve’s head resting on Eddie’s shoulder, smiling softly with Eddie’s arm around him.

It’s their spot, it’s their place to be alone together, it’s another one of their things and Eddie loves it, he loves everything with Steve.

[christinebloodwrittings]

Till' death do us apart: Chapter 1.

Pairing: Angel Y/n x Alastor Fandom: Hazbin Hotel. Warnings: Slight sexual interaction, hell being hell.

Masterlist –– Prologue –– Next chapter

Taglist: Open...

Flying gave me the impression that my body weighed less than I thought,  didn't do it frequently, only when it was my turn to go down to the human world, so yes, I almost never worked my legs outside of the occasional training, millions of years of not making a good use of my muscles.

Slight atrophy.

Walking through the streets of hell, with the heavy atmosphere, the heat, the humidity, not to mention that the bruises from the fall, although not visible under the celestial uniform, were killing me.

It didn’t exactly helped that there were lights everywhere, neon signs, reflectors, my vision wasn’t adjusting to my dark surroundings.

As soon as one little demon kid saw me and he ran away, I ditched the long robe with the golden cross, remaining only in a white dress shirt, black pants and shiny shoes. Clothes for work, not a hike.

“Hey cutie, wanna have a good time?”

 “You have an ass to polish balls, baby”

“That’s meat alright, and not what my wife puts in the stew!”

And other types of wolf calling. Well it was no wonder, I ended up in a street where sex was the predominant business, given the triple X signs, and the semi naked demons trying to lure me inside.

Next time I get a word with the big guy, I'll mention something about gender distinctions, he would’ve at least assign me one instead of making me look androgenous. Apparently, what is a problem in heaven, it doesn’t matter in hell, very ironic indeed.

A whistle caught my attention, that and also the tug someone gave to my sleeve, “Poorly defined waistline, thick thighs, slim frame, and look at that clear porcelain skin, what a beautiful creature you are” I turned my head, the lady demon, with a similitude to a lynx, purred in my ear as she caressed my face, and the other hand went straight to my thigh.

“So soft” I felt her breasts against my wounds, it sent a shiver throughout my body. “Ma’am, release me, please” I could hear my heartbeat in my ears, “Why, am I not sexy enough for ya’, prude?” she offended because I rejected her? That made me laugh, “Don’t take me wrong miss” her grasp in me softened, giving me room to turn to see her.

“You flatter me, but I don’t feel up to it, you’ll be wasting your time” She took my hands again, just when I was going to walk away, “Is there anything I can do to convince you?” her tail wrapped against the outline of my hip, “Even if you did, I don’t have a single penny on me” I tried to elude her, I had no money whatsoever, but even if I did, wouldn’t use it on sex.

“I can give you a free trial” she rolled her eyes, She pressed her breasts to my torso, her mischievous smile and the earring with the sigil of Asmodeus, gave me a slight hypothesis, “I swear, it’s not a you problem” I pointed at her breasts making her to give me the answer I needed.

“If you like men, I’m a shapeshifter” bingo, I’m right again, “Succubus, not only a human would’ve heard my lack of money and immediately desist afterwards, but also you work for Asmodeus” she laughed at my discovery, earning a light hiss out of me, “Very smart, congrats, now that you know what I am, will you give in to temptation?” tempting, ironic enough.

“Quid pro quo” she widened her eyes, “What do you want?” I went in, one thing I needed to start off this sort of adventure, “Information, where I can get quick cash without having to undress in front of millions?” she laughed, her eyes turning yellow out of a sudden, her body shifted into a smaller creature with red skin, dark wings and horns that matched her skin, “Fuck me and I’ll tell you” black lipstick really suited her face.

“I can ensure your pleasure instead” at my proposition she purred and took my hand, “Okay, suck me off and I’ll tell you all about it” her kiss on my cheek felt hot and silly, “After you” her voice was so sweet.  

I followed her, the second we walked through the doors of the club, an intoxicating fruity smell surrounded me, it was definitely better than outside.

We crossed another door further on, this one led to a velvet red room, the lighting, the heart-shaped sheets on the bed, everything.

She flew past me, getting rid of her dress and panties, I quickly catch them in the air and folded both items neatly, “Hey, you don’t have to-” I guess she saw something, because as soon as she looked at my face, she pinched her nose and went from her annoyed tone to the sweet one from before, “Just come here” her hand outstretched to me, I waited a second before I took it, “Huh, you’re rather obedient” was that a bad thing? I acted out of reflex, has it always been that way?

I cleared my throat, leaving those wayward thoughts behind me, as I adjusted her legs to go over my shoulders, my body belly-flat against the soft sheets, my elbows being my only support "Apologies if I do it wrong, it's been a long time" the smell coming out from her inner thighs was sweet for a few seconds, it made me squirm, "Have you licked lollipops? It's the same thing, honey" the smell shifted, citrus, even lemony, it made me salivate.

“You like that better?” I looked up to her smug face, “My body adjusts to please, I guess you’ve got no sweet tooth” I bit softly the inside of her thigh, her smile disappearing into a shock, even more so after I latched a full lick, making sure to push gently against her clit.

Damn, I haven't done anything like this since I worked undercover in a brothel in Sodom. That's disgusting, my hands are sweaty. Her moans are very cute, are all succubus like that? What the hell am I doing? If they found out that I purposely disturbed the sanctity of my body...Wait, what will they do? Days have passed without anyone coming down for me, Thanatos will likely replace me in the worst case scenario, and I highly doubt that Michael told Gabriel about his decision.

How horrible, my back is killing me, will it be too much to ask us to change positions? but it looks like she enjoys it, I don't want to ruin it.

He didn't cut off Samael's wings when he pushed him overboard, why was it different with me? Can I open portals without needing my wings? It's a good question, shit, concentrate.

“Ouch! Hey, watch it with those fangs” Fangs? I slowly ran my tongue over my teeth. They were sharp, the corruption had begun.

“It’s okay, just..” she sat up, took my face gently in her hands and placed a kiss to my forehead, "There's a place, in the mafia district, look for Jambo, he fixes fights, he'll pay ya’ good money if you do what he tells you, whether it's winning or losing, whateva’ makes him more money" Pity, it was clear as water.

“But you didn’t…end?” I watched her go around, grabbed a pencil and a piece of paper, “Darling, I came as soon as you bit me, believe me, your end of the deal is well paid” she handed me said paper, and a ring, “Asmodeus uses one of this to hide his angelic glow, this will make you a less of a target around here” I slip the ring in my middle finger, immediately my body dimmed, I looked like just another sinner of the lot.

“Thank you” with a kiss to her cheek I left the club. Now I needed to put my best quality to my favor, all those years of training for a nonexistent war will give me everything I need to survive.

[the-girl-wh0-cries-w0lf]

You're waiting for a train...(16) - Epilogue

I Dreamed We'd Grow Old Together...

Robert Fischer x reader

description - Robert and Y/n's life over the next five years

word count - 2k

warnings - pregnancy, and an insane amount of fluff

a/n - and so it ends! This fic has been very important to me and has given me such a great outlet. I want to thank you all for your continued love and support for this fic! If it hadnt been for you guys I probably wouldnt have had enough confidence to continue it!

Please like/comment/reblog/follow!!!

a/n pt2 - Also seeing as I have fallen in love with this relationship I will be accepting questions and headcanons on their relationship!

Previous Part Series Master list Master list

Questions and Headcanons on Robert x y/n - here

And so we came together. It felt like the culmination of a thousand dreams.

We went out on many dates. Robert would plan these luxurious and expensive expressions of affection: dinner at the fanciest restaurants, cinemas bought out for our private viewing experience. But we alternated who planned the dates, so when it came to my turn I went for the simplest. Walks on the beach, picnics in the park. One day I even found a crafting class for us, and I could’ve cried on the spot when I saw his eyes light up at the handmade windmills. Of course, he saw it as a happy coincidence when in reality I enjoyed feeling like I was healing his childhood self, one step at a time.

Days turned to weeks. Weeks turned to months. We were out on a hike which I had chosen. He had grumbled about the idea of getting up early, but I could see the stress leave his body at the first gulp of forest air. I carried on ahead as he went to tie his shoe but when I turned back I gasped. Robert was down on one knee, holding a beautiful diamond ring.

“Y/n Cobb, I have loved you since that first moment I laid eyes on you, and I think even before that.” I walked closer to him so I could hold his other outstretched hand. Tears were streaming down my face and my smile was holding back an extremely loud yes. “I know how much you believe in dreams and so on. And last night I had a dream that we grew old together. When I woke up I knew it had to be my reality. Y/n Cobb, will you…”

I threw my arms around him.

“Yes, yes, a thousand times yes!” I placed a loud kiss right on his lips.

“You could have at least let me finish!” He teasingly whined.

“Well I could see where you were going!” I argued back but was halted when he kissed me once more. We pulled away long enough so Robert could slide the ring onto my finger.

Safe to say, we did not finish the hike that day as we quickly went home to celebrate.

I had moved in with Robert before so we visited Dad and the kids for lunch the day after to give them the news. Dad had always been weary around Robert, not knowing if he would recognise him. But it was fine as, in my Dad’s words, ‘when Robert is around Y/n, it’s like the world doesn’t exist.’. Dad still couldn’t stop himself pulling Robert aside whilst Philippa was asking me a million questions about the wedding and if she could be a bridesmaid. All he did was roughly grab his hand and pulled him close and merely whispered

“She’s my precious girl. And I have a gun.”

Safe to say Robert was healthily shocked.

We got married weeks later as neither of us could wait. I told Robert I didn’t care about a big expensive wedding, but he couldn’t seem to accept that.

I got my wish for a small wedding in the garden of my childhood home, with just my closest friends. But everything else about it was still ridiculously posh. Right down to the flower arch we were married under.

James and Philippa were my brides’girl’ and brides’boy’. My father walked me down the makeshift aisle. Arthur and Eames were there as well as Yusuf and Ariadne. They were all worried about the risk of the inceptors being so close to the mark after the heist.

“There’s no telling what could trigger his memory.”

“Well, y/n spent the most time with him out of all of us and she’s marrying him.”

“We can’t all sleep with him!”

“ENOUGH!”

I then put a rule that there was to be no dream talk at my wedding. My father even gave his own little speech explaining that if anyone ruined my wedding, he would kill them. We all laughed but his continued silence quickly shut us all up.

Robert did not want any family there. And he also didn’t have friends he felt were close enough to warrant an invitation.

One night, whilst planning, I cautiously asked him about inviting his godfather. He tensed up and lowered his eyes. He brushed it off saying it would be too many people. I reluctantly agreed with him whilst looking at the sparsity of his side of the guests.

The wedding was beautiful, and we finished with dancing on the grass well into the early hours of the morning. I got my first dance with my father, a day I thought would never come. Philippa asked Robert to dance, and he graciously accepted, lifting her up onto his feet and they swayed alongside us.

The morning after we were curled up together in bed. My back leaned on his chest as he played with my fingers. The morning sun bleeding into my childhood bedroom.

“Where do you want to live?” His morning voice broke the quiet.

“I thought we were going to move into your house.” I tilted my head to look into his eyes which were trained on a picture of me, my dad and my mum.

“I don’t wanna go back. Being here, in this house, with all the love in it. I just don’t want to go back there.”

“Okay.” I leaned up and planted a soft kiss to his cheek.

“So if you could live in any house, anywhere in the world, where would you live?”

I snuggled myself back into his chest and closed my eyes as I imagined.

“Somewhere in the countryside, with a big sprawling garden that backs onto fields and forests with plenty of walks. The house should be cozy, with a big kitchen with an old fashioned stove that keeps us warm in winter. Wooden tables where I can cook and bake all day long till my hearts content. The house should have big windows so the sunlight can dictate our day. Small bedrooms but big comfy beds, fluffy rugs, open fires. And maybe even an extra room...with a cot.” I met his eyes for the last word.

“Yes.”

“To which bit?”

“To all of it.” We kissed passionately.

A few days later and Robert woke me up and told me we were going on a trip. We bundled into his car and drove for hours until we came to a stop outside a house that seeped with familiarity. I got out, transfixed by what stood before me. It was as real from my mind as if I had created it in my dream. Robert moved to unlock the little gate which led to the front door. He turned to me and held out a set of keys with a little windmill keychain.

“It needs a bit of work and I know I shouldn’t have bought it without showing you—”

“I love it.”

We didn’t need a honeymoon, the two weeks to ourselves spent decorating and filling the house with our love was enough. I drew designs for each room and Robert would do the heavy lifting. I could see how much he enjoyed working with his hands after dismantling his business a week into our relationship. I also was unable to help much as my hand found softly stroked a barely noticeable bump.

We relished in the days of decorating, where trying to paint a single wall would turn into silly games or dancing round to music, intermittent with many kisses and hugs.

Eventually we had built our home out of our house and we relaxed into our sofa, a bottle of red between us. We sealed the night with a kiss and it definitely didn’t end there.

Five Years Later

I stand at the sink washing our dishes from lunch and look out of the window onto our expansive garden. Robert runs about the grass, clad in soft jeans and a ratty knitted jumper. Our three darling children chase around him at varying speeds. Our eldest, Isla, holds her baby sister Aspen’s hand, and Nicholas, the youngest, toddles behind his sisters, excited to be involved.

Arthur runs up from behind and scoops Nicholas up into his arms through the giggling shrieks of the three. He bounces Nicholas up into the air. Isla and Aspen then run over and begin shouting up at their uncle for their turn.

I don’t hear Robert make his way into the house, I just feel a pair of arms wrap around my waist and soft kisses being ladened up and down my neck. I sink back into his body which is warm from the sun. His arms snake down and his hands lay on mine.

“Leave those now. I’ll do them later.” I agree by turning in his arms so we can meet in a proper kiss. His fingers grip my waist and stroke my sides.

Our moment is interrupted by a loud opening of the door. I roll my eyes at the familiar sound and break apart to greet Eames at the door.

“Right! Where are my darling godchildren?”

“I give you a good time to come round, and you insist on coming just before their tea and bath time.”

He laughs and knocks my chin with his knuckle.

“Motherhood suits you.” I bat his hand away and gesture out the door. “Make it quick.”

I turn back to a still laughing Robert who quickly stops once he sees my stern face.

“I’ll ask Eames if he wants to stay for tea with Arthur.” He goes to go back into the garden.

“What you thinking for tea?” I ask his retreating form.

“Chicken and potatoes?”

“Delicious.” He smiles and leaves.

I begin sorting through the mail which still sat on the side. I smiled once I reached a postcard from Dad. He’d taken the kids to Disneyland for a week and sent a picture of them with Goofy. I pinned it up on our cork board.

My peaceful moment is soon interrupted.

“Y/n! Tell Arthur that I’m the favourite uncle!”

“Y/n! Tell Eames that fun does not have to mean dangerous!”

“Mama, mama, Uncle Eames turned me upside down and span me around!”

“See! Dangerous!”

“Honey, where’s the disinfectant? Aspen scraped her knee.”

“Mummy it really hurts!”

“Mama! Uppies! Uppies!”

I picked Nicholas up into my arms and simply giggled, perfectly happy with my life.

It was now night. Arthur and Eames had left after insisting on reading the kids stories which meant they were roped into reading 3 stories per child. Nicholas had gone down first. Then Aspen and even though Isla had loved staying up with mummy and daddy, tiredness had overcome her quickly. So Robert carried her up and tucked her into bed.

We now lay in bed together, curled up. Simply relishing in the silence that was so foreign in our big house.

“Do you wanna know something strange?” He broke the silence. “That day we met, I had a dream about a girl who I fell in love with. I like to think it was you.”

I bit my lip to stop myself uncontrollably grinning.

“And since then, my dreams have been consumed by you and our little family.”

I tried to meet his eyes, but he was locked in thought and I knew I couldn’t interrupt his thoughtfulness.

“The moment I met you I realised that I wanted to create my own family rather than continue working for one that never loved me.”

I hugged him tighter as his voice shook slightly.

“Well, that’s good. Because your family is about to get a little bigger.” I took his hand and drifted it down until it landed on a subtle bump.

“Perfect.” He kissed my hairline as his hand stroked up and down my stomach.

The silence resumed and we both fell deeper into the stillness of the night. But as I drifted off one thought plagued my mind.

Perhaps the idea never actually took hold.

Perhaps it was me and him.

Us together, that changed his life.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Thank you so much for reading!!

taglist: @jonsncws @h-l-vlovesvintage @theethy @fashionki11a @felicity1994 @bearchermer @idkyoutellmesmh @mimimarvelingmarvel @butterfly-lies-chase-them-away @neotanpopper @deliriouslybi @folklorde24 @thefandomdiaries07 @viarosemcmissile @noirrose21-blog @thepoeticfirefly @xoxo-gothic-girl @skeletonwrite @jellyzelek @kaylamarie306-blog @bloodcanbehot @lazybot @raineeace @thearieunhinged @multifans-things @queenofterrasen418 @bey0ndne0 @justanotherkpopstanlol @iamliterallyspidergwen @frozenhuntress67 @alice2612

[idontbelievethehype]

This isn't for you. Part 1. F.S.

Lets give Farleigh a life outside of Oliver's gaze. ;)

Warnings: drinking, some drug use, smut if you really squint, the general disgust of the upper class, Farleigh being a bitchy pansexual, Oliver is his own warning, Farleigh can't tell the difference between friendship and love. I don't write user inserts. This is an ofc based on a vague amalgamation of several people. No beta, we die and typo like men.

Farleigh was running late. Farleigh was always running late. It wasn’t something he often even clocked about himself, but this time was different. He’d made a promise to his Art of Islam tutor that he’d attend her thesis defense, and that defense was across campus in 5 minutes. He was selling her short of course. She was a million things more than a tutor to him.

Truthfully, Farleigh didn’t give a singular fuck about the art of Islam. He did give a fuck about Maggie, though, and as poor at time management as he was, he was determined to at least try to keep his promise. So he ran. It was a first.

Maggie was already speaking when he took a seat along the back wall of the lecture hall, sliding down slowly as to not make any noise. He worked hard to steady his labored breathing as silently as possible. He mentally checked out almost immediately, but his eyes never left her nervous fingers hooked together, giving each other comforting strokes as she spoke.

45 long minutes of death by PowerPoint later, Farleigh heard his own name, snapping him from his open-eyed daydreaming.

“Lastly, I’d like to thank Farleigh Start for taking the time to read through this dissertation several times over the last year. You’ve given me lovely feedback, so thank you.” Her voice was weak and rough from having spoken for an hour straight. He simply offered a nod and a smile. Truthfully, he’d only read it once and skimmed it three times. He loved the passion and fervor that worked up in her voice when she spoke about art, and that was enough.

“So, are you a doctor of art now?” Farleigh bumped his elbow into Maggie’s shoulder as they walked side by side back to his dorms. He had waited for her while she answered questions in a closed room. He was glad he’d never know that anxiety. A second class in Art History and never returning to uni again would be more than enough for him.

“I’ll find out by the end of the day, but it is usually a foregone conclusion.” She seemed calmer than she had in months. A weight had clearly been lifted off of her shoulders. It all felt a bit silly to him, but knowing Maggie meant witnessing her drive, however pointless it may seem. She needed a doctorate just about as much as he did. Far less, even. Her future was pre-ordained and quite comfortable.

He’d grown up just a couple of years behind her in age, always stuck together at functions and events. He couldn’t even count how many times they’d been sat side by side at dinner parties. He’d watched her grow from a chubby little girl who couldn’t stop talking about anime into the gorgeous, articulate, connoisseur of fine art she was today. He knew that she’d watched him grow too. He often wondered if he was just a child in her eyes, as he sometimes was in his own.

“Will you be joining us tonight?” He opened his door for her, watching as she toed her shoes off next to his bed and flung herself down, deflating after a long morning.

“Pub?” It was mostly mouthed. Sound barely came out of her. He didn’t turn the light on. There was a softness to her when she was spent that he didn’t see in other girls. He certainly didn’t see it in any of the boys he knew. Something gentle and sleepy and begging to be held.

“Can’t tonight, love. I’ve got a dinner with mum.” She lifted her arms and legs like a bug, slowly waving them about with a foolish smile, beckoning Farleigh into her grasp. “Come, smoosh me.”

“If you’re trying to be sexy, you’re shit at it.” He complied nonetheless, lying on top of her and hiking her thighs up his hips until they were interlocked on his bed. It was intimate, yet anything but sexual. It was a position they found themselves in on a semiregular basis.

“When I’m ready to be sexy, you’ll know.” She giggled and tucked her face into his neck. The heat from her breath made his hair stand on end. “You could come to dinner if you like, Farleigh.”

“Not with THE Countess of Snowden. I couldn’t fathom taking a moment of her time.” He didn’t need to see her to know that she was rolling her eyes. The relationship between their mothers had been adversarial all their lives, though it rarely trickled down to the children. For all of the caddy shit talking and passive aggressive comments over cocktails, they all summered at the same estates and enjoyed the same trappings, even if Frederica and Serena had been at each other’s throats since birth.

The thing about Maggie that Farleigh loved the most, apart from just blanket familiarity, the thing that really set her apart from every other landed gentry in their friend groups, was that Maggie never once acknowledged her birthright. It was there, sure, and it was significant. 27th in line to crown, Easter brunch with the Queen, etc, but she lived her life quietly and calmly, in the way Farleigh imagined boring middle class people did. She never pulled the rip cord for a bailout. He respected the hell out of that. It was something he was never able to accomplish himself.

“Oh come on then, you could ask for my hand in marriage,” Maggie started, exaggerating her posh accent for his enjoyment. Farleigh squeezrf her side, making her squirm into him more. “Two great houses equal in dignity.” She recited Shakespeare mockingly. To her, they really were equals, though Farleigh knew better.

“Dignity, is that what we’re calling this now?” Farleigh slid his hand down from her waste to her hip, letting the silky fabric of her trousers slip between his fingers. If she were someone else, he’d start working on the buttons, inching the zip down, easing them away from her skin. Not Maggie though. This wasn’t a game to be won. There was no trophy at the end. To comfort and to be comforted. That was all they were there for this time.  

“Drinks after, I suppose.” Maggie mumbled, lacing her fingers into his hair softly, her nails barely grazing at his scalp. “If you’re still out.”

“We will be.” Farleigh closed his eyes and let himself appreciate the feeling of her hands on him. He was rarely touched so tenderly by his lovers. Even calling them lovers was giving too much credit on both sides. “Felix has a new pet. You can meet him.”

“Oh, god. Not again.” He felt her body go slack. Maggie’s family was closed off. True aristocracy always was. They found the way the Catton��s took on strays to be intolerable, always making Saltburn a theme park for the less fortunate. Last summer, she’d called it sad. Poverty porn in how they always fed on the stories of the downtrodden. Farleigh wanted so badly to agree, but he knew in some ways he was just as much a charity case as their flavor of the week.

They parted ways around tea, Maggie going to shower and nap, Farleigh off to attend a tutorial he had put zero thought into. He loved the way his tshirt smelled of her hair, of shampoo and the scent she’d been wearing since her 16th birthday. Vera Wang Princess. Cheap and frankly pedestrian, probably purchased at Boots, it was the sort of scent he’d drag a woman for it he met her in the pub. He didn’t mind it on Maggie. It was familiar and soothing to carry her with him for the rest of the day.

Farleigh sincerely hoped Maggie would come out to the pub. He wanted to chat shit with her and maybe dance a bit, but she text him around midnight that she was going to bed. He didn’t reply. She was wishy-washy on nights out. Always a good time, but rarely in much of a mood to have one. She got horrible hangovers regardless and he’d been talking to a boy from St. Anne’s all evening who seemed interested in fooling around.

They didn’t see each other the next day, or over the weekend. This was hardly unusual. Farleigh loved her company in a different way than that if his other friends, or his cousins. He suspected she felt the same. It wasn’t necessary to keep tabs. It was annoying even. With the school year coming to a close, they were likely not to see one another until midsummer anyway.

Farleigh arrived to Saltburn with Felix at the end of term. He’d wanted to take a weekend or two in London to party, but Venetia had pleaded with them to come home. Venetia felt more like family to Farleigh than most. His little sister, faithfully awaiting his return.

They had a peaceful, though boring week as a family with the occasional entertainment of poor dear Pamela’s idiocy. She’d worn her welcome out over the spring, but Farleigh knew that the Catton’s need a bit on tension or they’d go looking for it. He quite enjoyed having someone else be the mess on the floor for them to step around.

Once Ollie arrived, though, it all felt a bit crowded. The little gremlin attached himself to Felix like a leach. No matter where they went, Oliver was there like an unsettling shadow. He was a poor lost boy. He demanded attention and care. Farleigh longed for the comfort of someone who just gave a shit if he was in the room or not.

Felix’s man-child has arrived

Farleigh sent the text already knowing the reaction he’d receive.

Well, then, I’m not coming now. Yuck.

Maggie liked to pretend she had any control over it. Of all of the places to be and families to summer with, one could do far worse than Saltburn.

Of course you are. They’ve already made up your room for you.

It wasn’t entirely a lie. The rooms had been made up for weeks for whenever Maggie and her mother planned to stop by. Hers was one of dozens of rooms that go largely unused.

Next to yours?

As God intended, my love.

When they were children, they’d build little forts with blankets and sleep side by side all summer long, never alone in the night. At home with their mothers, they were always alone. Left to their own devices. Summer was the only time Farleigh felt truly part of anything. When they got older and shipped away to boarding schools, their summers together were sometimes supplemented with bank holidays and winter breaks. The idea was the same even while their bodies were quite different.

They would talk, maybe kiss, maybe touch, maybe more. It was equal parts educational as it was erotic. To this day, when Farleigh makes a girl cum, it’s Maggie’s body he’s using as a roadmap.

She came through the doors with absolutely no fan fair. She had a way with Duncan. She seemed to disarm him. He didn’t feel the protective need with people whose stations were far higher than the family he served. She could take nothing from them, only give. And besides, he’d known her all her life.

“Good morning, lover.” She wrapped Farleigh in a hug from behind at the garden breakfast table, surprising him.  She kissed his neck, his cheek, the tip of his nose. He held his arm out as far behind himself as he could reach to not burn her with his cigarette. Almost immediately, she did the same to Venetia on her right. “Oh how I’ve missed you, my dear.”

“I didn’t even know you were coming today.” Venetia pushed Felix’s feet from the chair between herself and Farleigh to make room for their friend. Maggie had always treated Venetia with a bit more care than most others. It went a long way.

“Oh, I drove. I was only at Daylesford. Hardly a long way.” She immediately silenced the potential comments brewing within Elspeth. She knew exactly how to please her, not that she really needed to. “Mum went off to Portofino.” She cupped a hand around her mouth, allowing only Elspeth and Farleigh to see, stage whispering. “To see a man!”

This elicited a delighted laugh from all of the Catton’s who often joked about how uptight and impossible to please Lady Serena could be. Daughter of Princess Margaret, she had somehow inherited absolutely none of her mother’s good humor or sense of fun.

Suddenly, as if she felt it boring into her, Maggie seemed to clock Oliver’s unblinking gaze. “Oh, hello, you must be-“ She let the sentence linger, having never actually learned his name.

“Oliver.” Farleigh watched him make the completely wrong choice of trying stare her down, that doll-like smile on his face that had pulled so many others in. For all of Maggie’s calm demeanor and candor, she didn’t trust a soul she hadn’t known a decade or longer. There was no way in with her. No amount of charisma or flirtation could build her good will. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Ah.” Maggie raised her eyebrows, pasting a somewhat strained smile onto her own face to match his. “Sure.” Under the table, she took Farleigh’s hand. “I do hope you’ve been having a good summer so far, Oliver.”

After their somewhat tense interaction, Maggie largely ignored Oliver, and Felix too for that matter. They made plans to go to the field in the afternoon. Farleigh felt content for the first time in weeks.

“Strange, right?” Farleigh asked the second they closed his bedroom door behind him, both of them snapping into action immediately.

“Oh god, yes.” Maggie wiggled her jeans down her hips, sitting down on the edge of his mattress to kick them off. “Like a creepy porcelain doll.” She pulled her t-shirt over her head and tossed it into Farleigh’s chest. He was already half undressed himself. Maggie didn’t have a bra on. Her small chest held a sort of unexplainable, ungendered elegance. He preferred her that way.

“You should see the way he looks at Felix like he’s going to eat him or something.” Farleigh emphasized the word eat as he almost fell over trying to yank his socks off.

“I love it when you’re like this.” Maggie was down to her white cotton thong, sprawled out on his bed in a column of mid-morning sunlight. The ever-present dust from the tapestries on his walls left them in a faint, swirling fog. It felt like they were in a dream.

Farleigh stepped between her knees hanging off the bed. He ran his hands up her legs, enjoying the stubble of her unshaven thighs on his fingertips. “Like what?”

Maggie walked her fingers from the top of his hand to his chest before reaching out and pulling him down on top of her. “I like it when you’re a complete bitch.” Her eyes closed when she laughed and he laughed with her.

He shifted into her more, enjoying the way his hips forced her legs wide to compensate for their dramatic difference in size. It was his instinct to say something snide and barbed, dripping with sarcasm, but he knew he didn’t need to. He didn’t need to say anything at all.

Farleigh took his time with Maggie. He always did. They had nowhere to be but with each other. Last summer she had said he looked cast in bronze. She’d called him statuesque. Beautiful. No one else had ever described him as anything more than surface level. No one had ever looked at him long enough.

He pressed himself into her slowly, watching her lip go between her teeth and her face twist upward into a joyful smile. She craned her neck, looking down at were their bodies met. “How’s it look?” He asked with a chuckle, relishing in the way her breaths got heavier the more he moved.

“Really, really fucking hot.” Maggie spoke through a deep exhale, flopping her head back onto his bed and looking up into his eyes. “Best porn I’ve ever watched.” Her hand came up to his cheek, thumb brushing against his bottom lip. “I like to watch this too.”

“See, I like it when you’re like this.” He kept his pace slow and languid, coaxing pleasure out of her steadily. No rush.

“Talking dirty?” Her voice was husky. Her eyes still locked with his.

“No,” It came out sing-song, light. “I like it when you’re having fun.”

Movement in the window behind her caught his eye. Someone walking in the courtyard.

“Look, it’s the real-boy now.” Farleigh separated from Maggie just long enough to flip her over and slip back into her. Her ass bounced off of his hip bones. Her delighted squeal rang out through his open window so he reached forward to clasp a hand over her mouth. “Shhh, just watch him with me.”

[sadlybeans]

No More Batman AU Part 1: Robin is Dead

(link for AO3 here)

Batburger was the last restaurant Jason would’ve chosen to give money to, but it was the closest to the apartment and also the cheapest. After all, wherever else can you get two vegetarian sandwiches plus fries and drinks for 9.99? Alas, going into the store plastered with Batman and Robin memorabilia that made him want to punch a wall.

The teenager at the register talked with a bored monotone voice as he repeated the order, completely unphased by the suspicious man towering at the other side of the counter, and Jason scoured the restaurant as he did, evaluating for any possible danger. The booths by the corner were occupied by a group of girls still in their uniform and talking loudly as they discussed an upcoming dance recital, and the only other table that was occupied consisted of a young college student having a breakdown as they typed frantically on a beaten up laptop, all in all not an apparent threat. Actually, Jason was the biggest threat in that place, towering over all the costumers with his 6’3 frame and broad shoulders that were poorly concealed by a red hoodie and a black leather jacket.

“… do you want to add anything else to your order…?”

“No” he tossed a twenty bill on the counter just as his phone pinged. I’m starving, come back this instant. He sighed. “Make it twice as fast and you can keep the change”

The cashier vanished towards the kitchen in a hurry.

Gotham hadn’t changed at all since he died, from her dirty streets to the police sirens echoing in the distance and her shadows flying overhead… the same shadows he was trying to avoid as if his life depended on it. Even if he was believed to be six feet under he took all the necessary precautions to conceal his face, even wearing a surgical mask in the short three minute hike to the shitty rental unit they called home.

“Food’s here” he announced as he took off his shoes and jacket, dropping the mask as well. From the hallway you could hear the cacophony of noise the washing machine was making.

Unpack, fold the napkins, serve. Still nobody else in the kitchen.

“Your painting is still gonna be there later” he drawled in a louder voice towards the hallway.

Nothing.

Fuck… he really cursed his decisions in life in that moment, and also found a newfound respect for all single mothers and fathers out there.

“Damian Al Ghul-Wayne, it’s time for dinner and if you don’t come here this instant I’ll drag you here myself”

Something was thrown on a desk -a sketchbook most likely- and seconds later a lanky teenage boy emerged from his bedroom, slamming the door behind him and stomping his way over to the table, where he sat down without saying a word.

Damian had grown since the first time they met— back then he was only five, a tiny ball of anger that gave nightmares to his experienced tutors. Now he was fifteen and he was, to Jason’s relief, an almost completely normal child; he watched TV, he liked animals, he liked painting and writing, and he was smack middle on his teenage rebel phase. Assassin abilities aside, he was no different from most other kids his age thanks to Jason’s influence, something Thalia often reminded them both of.

He’s a little demon brat. He would tell her.

You just miss the days in which he was glued to your shadow. She would answer affectionately.

They had not seen her in over a year now and Jason knew part of his attitude was due to being in a completely different place with a different culture, away from his grandfather’s luxurious palace and his mother’s love. But it was for his own good… he deserved to know his father too, and Thalia had always intended to have him sent to Gotham eventually, although not as late as it ended up happening.

However… one year after arriving in Gotham, they had yet to seek out the Bat. Jason didn’t like to admit it, but he wasn’t ready to part from the boy he had raised for the past decade, because once he dropped Damian at his doorstep he would not see him again for a long time, if ever. And apparently Damian wasn’t eager to leave, as he hadn’t asked about it once.

“I’m going out tonight for a job” he announced, breaking the silence “tomorrow morning we have an appointment in Gotham Academy to enroll you, so wake up early and dress in something that isn’t a hoodie and sweatpants.”

Damian frowned, squeezing the empty wrapper of his sandwich on his fist.

“I don’t need to go to a stupid school full of dumb children! I’m much smarter than that bunch of… bunch of idiots!”

Jason rolled his eyes.

“Don’t get smart with me, I taught you to tie your shoes and helped you with your essays” no matter how hard Damian tried, he was still just a baby in his eyes “your mother arranged this for you, so you are going. Coming to live with your father means mixing in and being normal”

“But I am not living with father!”

Jason sighed.

“You will soon, so it’s better to arrange some things beforehand, to help you adjust—“

“It’s not fair!”

“Life isn’t fair! Look, just— going back into routine will be good for you, and besides school doesn’t start for a few more weeks. I know this is new and all but you do need to socialise too”

“But I don’t want to go, why can’t I make my own choices if you want me to grow up so badly!?”

“Because you’re still a child! You think you know everything but you don’t, I was fifteen once too! And until you can make your own decisions it’s my job to do what’s on your best interest”

Damian threw his cup to the ground spilling ice everywhere and ran back to his room, slamming the door so hard that the downstairs neighbour knocked on the floor -their ceiling- with a broom seconds after.

Jason wasn’t too hungry anymore. Maybe they could have the leftovers later.

Walking inside a Batburger was like stepping into a personalised nightmare, with Robin’s face plastered in every wall and menu. Dick Grayson pursed his lips and avoided looking anywhere but straight at the line of people in front of him, holding his bag (“it’s not a purse, Steph, who else is gonna carry all of your stuff while you guys run around?“) tightly.

Normally going to the faire every year involved them following the long standing tradition of devouring a mountain of tacos and making a competition out of it, but that year the owner of their favourite truck had retired and nothing tasted the same. They were tired and hungry, and Batburger had the shorter line of people waiting, be it for their mediocre food or their “Five Minutes or Free” slogan.

After waiting for seven minutes, he called bullshit on that slogan and texted a photo of the sign to the groupchat, demanding Bruce send them a lawsuit.

Tim answered with a zoomed in picture of the tiny print at the bottom that basically said ‘restrictions apply’.

Dick sighed defeatedly and resigned himself to wait for a few minutes more, when one of the other patrons started raising their voice.

“-sorry sir but your order says—“

“I know what it says, I’m not illiterate” the young boy answered in a snappy tone “I explicitly told your half deaf coworker that I wanted no pickles! Make it again!”

“But the ticket says—“

“Are you calling me a liar?”

“No sir, but—“

“Then make it again!”

“We’re not allowed to do that but I can offer a discount for—“

The kid seemed about to jump over the counter to strangle the employee and Dick decided he needed to step in less they caused a bigger scene, so he slipped behind the teenager.

“Hey, sorry to interrupt— I know this is a really big inconvenience for all of us here so, why don’t you just give this kid a new order? He clearly doesn’t want the pickles and your coworker might’ve simply forgotten to write it down”

The employee looked unsure.

“Company policy is very strict”

“Then is there anything else we may be able to do?” Dick asked with a smile, purposefully letting his jacket move and show a corner of his old police badge.

The employee smiled nervously.

“I’ll bring out a new one—“

He disappeared to tell the cooks and Dick sighed, shaking his head. The kid huffed and crossed his arms, clearly unimpressed, and a minute later the guy came back with the new sandwich and Dick’s full order. He smiled and took his order, but the kid didn’t bother to hide his distate as he snatched the paper bags from the counter.

For some reason, he decided to follow quickly.

“Hey, did nobody teach you to say thank you?”

The kid stopped to turn to him, and he finally got a good look to his face; he had brown skin darker than his own and black hair that tried to be arranged as rebel but was too soft and straight to stick to said style. His eyes were hidden behind round sunglasses and he wore a black hoodie that was a few sizes too big.

“Did nobody teach you how to mind your own business?” he replied sarcastically.

Dick nearly gasped like a suburban white lady, as Duke usually called said expression.

“That’s not—“

“Whatever”

The kid turned around and walked off, leaving Dick with his mouth gaping as he watched him go to a tall intimidating mountain of a man waiting by a lamppost. He too wore a pair of fashionable round sunglasses and a red mask, with only a tuft of wild white hair visible from beneath his red hood. The kid’s father or uncle maybe?

Dick’s phone pinged insistently and he groaned, turning away and forgetting about it as he walked away to go find the others less Steph started bombarding him with more texts about starving to death.

By some miracle nobody had been murdered when he sat down at their table, although Tim had left them to hang out with his friends instead. Dick thought it was so great he was socialising, and it was so nice to see Cassie and Bart all grown up. Conner looked so happy too, which was a relief after all he had gone through— Dick made a mental note to call uncle Kal and ask how Lois and Jonathan were doing. Ever since Bruce retired from the hero business Nightwing had picked up his place and he was the main line of communication between his father and the League; they never knew of his secret identity but they still considered him a close friend so they kept in touch, which Dick was grateful for since god knows Bruce needed it.

“Finally!” Steph snatched a bag from his hands and started passing on each person’s order “Why didn’t you hurry? You’ve gotta leave before six if you want to avoid rush hour”

“I’m sure they’ll make it just fine” Duke appeased her, pushing the biggest bag of chips towards Cass, who thanked him with a smile. “It doesn’t close anyways”

“That’s not the point and you know it—“

Dick offered a small smile and started eating in silence while soon their conversation drifted off into other topics. They didn’t try to include him or Bruce into it, they knew that it was already inconvenient enough that their annual faire trip had unfortunately coincided with this specific date—

Normally, this one day a year was reserved for peace and quiet; Alfred would be off from early in the morning and they’d spend their time doing their own things in relative silence, and Cass, Tim and Duke would pretend they did not notice that a certain locked door was ajar at the end of the hallway. Then at around lunch Dick would come into the manor, leave them takeout, and he would leave with Bruce, both of them dressed semi formally, not always in black. Cass, Tim and Duke would pretend there wasn’t any tears in Bruce’s eyes when they said goodbye.

Tim had gone once, when he was a kid, just to pay his respects. He says they stop by a small quaint flower shop to pick up the same arrangement as every year, and then they sit with Jason for a while in the empty cemetery. Forget-me-nots, camellias, white chrysanthemums. They would be back an hour or so later, and Bruce would hug each of his boys and his princess, and the next day they would slowly build back up to normalcy.

Duke had suggested they cancel that year, that the faire would come back the next one anyways, but it hadn’t been such a bad idea to come after all… it was nice. They shared time as a family and they had fun, and most importantly neither Bruce nor Dick had been particularly down the whole day. Not that— not that they shouldn’t be sad… none of them knew what it was like to lose a brother or a son.

“— don’t forget to use your lights” Dick came back to himself just as Bruce was lecturing Tim, car keys in hand.

“I know B, I’ve been driving for months” the boy sighed, holding out his palm.

“Don’t worry mr. Wayne, we’ll keep Tim out of trouble!” Bart chirped from behind Dick’s little brother.

Bruce looked far from convinced.

“Are you sure you don’t want Cass and Steph to drop you off?”

Tim groaned and Dick chuckled, finally stepping in.

“I’m sure they’ll be just fine, Tim’s a big boy now”

Tim gave him the middle finger but Bruce finally relented and gave him the keys, letting them go after a hasty goodbye. They watched them retreat and Dick smiled softly at his brother’s hand holding Conner’s.

“We’ll be going too, I think. Tell us when you arrive, yes?”

“Be safe on your way” Duke told him after giving him a pat on the back.

“Bye!” Steph waved from the other side of the table.

Cass hugged their father and then Dick, patting his back gently and whispering a goodbye. Dick had to keep reminding himself he’d see them later that night as they walked to the parking lot.

“—that’s why the Jason Todd Fund—“

The car breaked hard and Damian yelped as he was propelled forwards and nearly slammed his face on the windshield if not for the safety belt across his chest.

“What the fuck was that!?” he coughed as he sat back up “What’s wrong with you!?”

Jason wasn’t listening, his knuckles turning white where they held the steering wheel and his shoulders tense. He must have heard wrong, he surely had… he turned the volume on the radio nearly all the way up and the locutor’s voice filled the car.

“— today marks the tenth year since the tragic death of Jason Todd-Wayne and thirty five other victims of Park Row during a building explosion orchestrated by the Joker before his disappearance. This year’s vigil is attended by Bruce Wayne’s daughter Cassandra and his foster son, Duke Thomas. Bruce Wayne himself and his eldest son Richard Grayson have refused their appearance and expressed their wishes to mourn in private as many other families have chosen to do, but it is only thanks to Wayne Enterprises’ generous donation that the vigil is possible—“

Jason had almost stopped breathing entirely, frozen in his seat, and even Damian was shocked into silence, staring wide eyed at the radio as if that could provide any answers or context into what they were hearing.

“—tham Gazette was able to interview Richard Grayson on the matter and his words have moved the hearts of many today;” and it was him, it was his voice in his car: “There’s no words to express our gratitude at the kindness shown by all of Gotham. All of us have sadly lost a loved one to criminals like him, all of us have felt the desire to give up sometimes, but it is a testament to our strength that we continue to fight despite our pain. It reminds us that we are all equals in this world. For us… we never had a body to bury, never had closure as to what happened to my little brother, and we are not the only family with a member that will forever be missing—“

Jason turned off the radio and the silence was deafening for all of two seconds before it registered in his brain that the cars lined up behind them were honking like crazy. Slowly the car moved forwards and he turned right on the corner, parking right in front of a half deserted pizza place.

He just stared at the road outside and the people walking by going about their normal day, to the dirty sidewalk and the lights reflecting off the damp concrete. For a year he had been living in the same city, breathing the same air, and he had never once heard a single word about his ‘old family’ beyond a few commercials on the TV about Wayne Enterprises. Hell, he hadn’t even bothered to go out at night to observe Gotham’s vigilantes— and now, the first time he had to confront the fact that his past was still alive right there in Gotham, it happened to be on the damn tenth anniversary of his death.

Fuck, it wasn’t even the right date, he died nearly an entire week earlier in Ethiopia.

He had— He had to leave. He couldn’t… this was too much, he should’ve never come back to this cursed city no matter how much Thalia begged him to, he should’ve never played house with Damian for so long knowing he would have to say goodbye anyways. So he had to leave now that he wasn’t entangled in anything with them just yet. Damian’s school enrolment was all handled, he knew how to move around the city both by simple directions and public transport, he knew the basics of human interaction— he was ready. He had been ready so long ago and Jason should’ve let him go then.

He merged back onto traffic and started drafting travel plans just as a light rain started falling.

“Hey bud, your books are still all over the living room, we need to leave this place spotless by the end of the day!”

The kitchen appliances had come with the apartment and neither of them would need any of the other things he’d bought when they moved in so he left them all where they were, the landlord could probably make some use of them or donate them. The fridge was already empty and their trash had been taken out so they would just stop at a nice place to eat later.

Clothes had all been handled, documents were already on the organised folder, trinkets packed up for donation or in the car, passport ready and plane ticket right besides it—

“Damian have you seen my phone?” he lifted up the cushions and looked around, he could’ve sword he had it in hand seconds earlier! “I was thinking we could go to that lebanese place down on 38th? It’s not too fancy but the food was good and I know you liked it even if you won’t say you did.“ as he spoke he made a couple laps around the living room and then figured it might just be in his bed “Or if you want we can try something new, we can splurge as much as you want— Damian?”

He had to do a double take as he nearly walked by the open bedroom door; the last suitcase was open on the bed, neatly organised clothing and books put on it, with only a last few things on the desk. The teen boy say besides it completely still, staring at the dull grey carpet and his spotless white socks.

“You ok?”

Damian didn’t answer, didn’t even acknowledge his presence despite the fact that for the past two years he had gone off every time Jason set half a foot into his bedroom like he was doing now.

“… I know this is probably very sudden and that’s making you nervous but I’m sure everything is going to turn out fine, if it doesn’t then Thalia will surely come pick you up right away and—“

“Why do you want to get rid of me?”

Jason’s words died in his mouth.

“W-What?” he let out in a whisper.

“I’m never going to see you again” he repeated, twisting the sleeve of Jason’s hoodie between his fingers “Is that why you’re trying to get rid of me so badly?”

For a moment, Jason stared at him, at the way his fingers moved, and then he looked around the room and all the books that once had been his but had slowly been stolen away after he was done with them, and to the suitcase full of clothes of which half had once been part of his own closet.

“Of course I’m not” he said weakly, not knowing what to say “I know this isn’t great and I… I can’t keep you here forever, kiddo. It doesn’t mean that I like it but your dad—“

“He’s not my father”

“Damian—“

“Forget it, I never said anything” he grunted as he stood up and walked out of the room, bumping their shoulders roughly as he passed by.

“I didn’t mean to—“

“I said forget it!”

Jason stood there lost on what to say or do as he heard the door of the bathroom closing and locking, and it wasn’t until minutes too long of standing there that he realised Damian wasn’t coming back. Moving in automatic like a robot, he organised the last things left in the bedroom inside the suitcase and zipped it up.

His heart felt like an endless void when they carried their things down the stairs to the car, Damian’s face obscured by his sunglasses and the hood of his sweater. It only grew larger and larger as the motor ignited and as they drove away from the building. It was just a shitty rundown unit that cost way too much for what it was actually worth, everything had broken down at least ten times over the year, the walls were paper thin and the neighbours all sucked, and yet it still felt like losing the only home he had had in the past ten years.

It didn’t brought him any relief when Damian passively aggreed to eat chinese, nor when they finally had an entire meal without bickering or full on fighting. He didn’t even scold him for wearing sunglasses indoors, or for refusing to touch the green peppers on his meal.

The food tasted like nothing as his head kept spiralling into a million thoughts and possibilities and what the repercussions could possibly be if he just refused to give up Damian, and then he felt so stupid for even thinking he was cut to take care of the boy when the past year had left clear he was a shitshow of a caretaker and that the only reason he had had success during the boy’s childhood was because Thalia was there along with a small army of tutors and caretakers. He would be so much better off, so much happier, once he arrived at the manor regardless of how Jason felt about it because like it or not, Bruce Wayne was his father and there was nothing to do about that.

As they drove away from the restaurant he kept trying to convince himself that he was just overthinking things, that he was going to be just fine once they split up, that he wasn’t going to be worried all day every day, that he wouldn’t regret walking away forever.

The taxi driver was punctual as she had promised and she helped them load the car with Damian’s suitcases and boxes, leaving only just Jason’s luggage in the backseat. Then she gave him a sympathetic pat on the back and got on the car to give them some privacy.

“I already paid for the ride, she’ll drop you off at the doors and then you give this to either your father or Alfred” Jason put the folder in Damian’s hands, repeating the instructions he had drafted and memorised days ago “your phone and electronics will likely be inspected but I already wiped any identifying or sensible information regarding me, so you text your mom when you get there and she’ll let me know, it should be right before my flight. Remember that you were here with just another random assassin, nobody of relevance, got it?”

Damian pursed his lips at the folder and nodded stiffly. Jason took a deep shaky breath.

“… I’m sorry. I’m gonna miss you, even if you don’t think I will. If I can— If I ever have the opportunity, I’ll write or- or something”

“….”

In a last impulsive decision he pulled Damian to his chest and just— hugged him. For one, two, three seconds and then just maybe an entire minute or more. He never wanted to let go. Damian didn’t hug back.

When he pulled away he cleared his throat and smoothed over the rumpled hoodie, escorting him back to the taxi and closing the door behind him. Damian didn’t look at him once as they drove off.

Jason would like to say he didn’t stand there on the empty street for long minutes after the taxi disappeared in the distance, that he didn’t feel like his entire world was ending as he drove to the airport, and that there wasn’t any tears clouding his vision the entire trip.

And if he could only just have thought of staying a minute or a few seconds longer, then maybe he would know that in the backseat of that taxi, a fifteen year old boy was sobbing quietly as he hugged a folder against his chest.

[aranciafiamma]

One day, the Tenth Boss of the illustrous Vongola family decides to go for a walk. The weather was good that morning - promised to be good all week. It was perfect for a restorative constitutional.

So the Tenth put on a pair of sturdy shoes and he walked out the front door. He walked through the front lawn, passed the main gates, and down the very long, gravel driveway that lead to the estate. In a half an hour, he reached the edge of the Vongola's property, then he kept on walking.

Now, this was not so strange. The Boss had been stuck behind the desk for the better part of a fortnight. He was trying to iron out a deal with the Insolenza, fiesty famiglia in Monopoli. They had tripled their numbers in under a decade, making good money off "waste management". Their wealth of success went straight to their heads (the ones in their pants), because it takes a pair of brass balls to challenge the Vongola family. They figured if anyone was gonna make a stand - they would have to do it now, in the Tenth's first year as boss, before he got too comfy with his power.

They weren't the only ones thinking so because a bunch of smaller famiglias allied with them. Up and down the coast of Apulia, from Barletta to Bari, capos began congregating. They were easy pickings alone but spite - oh spite could be a powerful, powerful motivator. Who does this foreigner think he is? Huh? Waltzing in like he owns the place? Well, he was about to get a taste of Italy's heel.

All eyes were on the Tenth. At 24 years old, he looked half his age, without any Roman machismo to call his own. He was as hairless as a babe, not even a stray whisker on his lip. And he kept sending foot soldiers, then capos, then finally an underboss to try and reason with the Insolenza and their associates. Each and every one was run out of town in a rain of bullets - but not blood. Not yet. Soon, they promise as each shot gets closer and closer to finding its mark.

The Tenth had to do something.

So he goes for a walk, straight off his property, and into the picturesque town of Rieti. Now, the Vongola have their proper headquarters in Sicily like any self-respecting, old blood famiglia. But a few days ago, the Tenth moved from the Iron Fort into this quaint, little place just east of Rome. People began to speculate that this was the first move - that the Tenth was beginning to shift his forces and launch an all out attack from the mainland. But Monday passed into Wednesday, and as far as anyone could tell, the Tenth was just in his office, doing paperwork same as usual. Sometimes, he goes out to town and buys himself a pastry.

As such, when the Tenth leaves the property, no one bats an eye. He's probably gonna grab himself an expresso and a biscotti before hiking back to the house. Except, he walks right past his favored cafe, and crosses the city lines.

That... That gets everyone's attention.

Of course, the first to react is the Tenth's inner circle. Gokudera Hayato hops on a bike and blazes down the road. He catches up with his boss in no time. From afar, a curious staff watches as the Tenth never once stops walking, cheerfully taking step after step as he talks to his Right Hand. Whatever he says to the Storm Guardian, they will never know, but it's enough for him to clench his jaw, nod, and then back away. No other Guardians reach out after that.

For hours and hours, the Tenth walks, heading down south. By then, all the other famiglias have sat up and tuned in, sending spies to watch his progress. When the sun sets and he reaches Bussi Officine, they all witness as he begins to shift his trajectory, heading east, towards the coast. It doesn't take a genius to figure out where he was going from there. But surely, they think, that can't be right. He can't seriously be going to the Apulia Coast, on foot, not even flying as people say he could. Yet, as the sun fully sinks and the moon rises high and this guy continues to walk eastwards, everyone had no choice but to believe it.

The Insolenza were at a loss. Half of them were laughing their asses off. The other half were plotting, scheming, trying to figure out the hidden plan that the Tenth must surely have. The Vongola Alliance was equally at a loss. Don Cavallone and Don Cozarto reached out to the Tenth's inner circle but his Right Hand offers no explanation.

"Trust in the Tenth," he tells them.

When dawn arrives, the young boss meets another of his men on the road. Xanxus di Vongola has both guns out, incandescent with rage. The Tenth doesn’t even twitch and stares straight at him. Keeping his brow in the line of fire, he continues forward, one foot in front of another until his skull nearly kisses the gun barrels. But by then, Xanxus must have found whatever answer he was searching for because he sheathes his guns, walking alongside his boss. They walk together for two - three hours in complete silence.

On the fourth hour, Xanxus speaks up, but far too quietly for any of the mics to catch. In response, the Tenth laughs - a heavy, throaty chuckle.

“Let them come,” he says.

At that, Xanxus stops walking. For a full thirty seconds, he watches his boss pass him by, going ever onward. Then he spins on his heels and flies away. The drones were able to capture his expression right before he left. It was a sight that prompted many to panic. Xanxus di Vongola rarely has any cause to smile but when he does, people rarely seek the cause.

Observers tracked Xanxus flying back to the Iron Fort. This destroys any claims of the Vongola launching a ground assault or really, any kind of assault. If they were going to wage a war, they would have summoned their prized warhounds.

By now, it’s been forty hours since the Tenth started walking. He has neither eaten or slept. And, as day becomes night, the assassins attack. To the surprise of most, they were not sent by the Insolenza. The Vongola has earned plenty of grudges in their long and disastrous history. There’s plenty of enemies willing and eager to take potshots at an unprotected boss.

Some send a few freelancers seeking glory. Others spend a small fortune hiring Named hitmen. And the rest are known to the Tenth, throwing hands just to keep him company. Those seem to find this whole endeavor hilarious.

The fights are short and sweet but numerous, enough to continue into the morning and through the afternoon. Not a single one, neither friend nor foe, could break the Tenth’s stride. As a result, he leaves a long trail of bodies behind him, all alive if not awake.

This attracts the attention of civilians. Now despite the notorious corruption of local law enforcement, a pair of polizia pull up to the Tenth. They frown and they yell and they light up their sirens. He smiles at them, speaking softly. Before the last words leave his mouth, they rush back to their car, without a bribe in their pockets and with a hefty shit in their pants. The Tenth never once misses a step.

He reaches the coast around the witching hour of the third night. After all that walking, his hair is wilder than a bird’s nest and his skin is several shades darker. A thick layer of grime and dirt cover his bespoke Armani suit and his polished, leather loafers. Yet the Tenth himself remains fair of face and strong of limb. The Insolenza are no longer laughing.

Taking a deep breath of that salty sea air, the Tenth turns south. He walks at a leisurely pace, even taking the time to wave at a few bystanders. The clueless ones wrinkle their noses, possibly mistaking him for some homeless vagabond. This brings a smile to his face and a spike of adrenaline to everyone else. At this time, no more assassins come for the Tenth as everyone shifts their focus onto the Insolenza.

They have set up a blockade. Concrete barriers sit on the road, in front of armored tanks and enough artillery to pulverize a mountain. The fourth day begins with a firestorm. They aim, and they fire, and they keep firing - bullet after bullet, shell after shell, missile after missile. The Italian countryside is transformed into a warzone within the span of five minutes, as deep craters pockmark the earth and dust blankets the air.

It was by the grace of powerful, powerful Mists that such a ruckus was largely ignored. Of course, a couple stray eyes bore witness but they knew better than to speak of it. Aside from the shroud of secrecy, no one else intervenes on behalf of either party. This was now a battle between the Insolenza and the Tenth. Enemies and allies watch on the edge of their seats as the dust swirls and twists.

The Insolenza run out of ammo and a hush falls over everyone. They don’t blink. They don’t breathe. From the lowest footsoldier to the high-handed capos, they could only watch, with ears ringing and pulse racing, as the dust settles.

The idiots are ready to rejoice, and they could be excused for they just unleashed a payload that could shame the United States. But the smarter ones expected retribution - for a wave of that infamous Vongola fire to sweep through the ranks. They get neither.

Schrnk. Schrnk. Schrnk.

At first, they barely hear it. But steadily, the sound grows louder as the footsteps come closer. Striding forward, as if on a relaxing stroll, is young Sawada Tsunayoshi, Tenth boss of the Vongola famiglia. Except unlike before, his bloodline is now proudly on display. On his thin shoulders rests a heavy mantle - blacker than the purest ash, as a crown of Flame sits thick and hot on his brow. He looks at the gathered men before him with eyes the color of a molten metal. The Insolenza reel back as if burned.

The Tenth does not stop walking.

To their credit, the Insolenza do not back down. The first to gather his wits throws a grenade at the Tenth. He bats it away with an easy backhand, flashing the engine-red of his gauntlet-covered fists. The others are not deterred, grinding down and summoning either stupidity or bravery to face the young boss. The day proceeds accordingly.

They throw everything they had left. There is a mountain of over the top violence, swearing, and unnecessary shouting. They flash him the goods, the greats, and the even betters. The Tenth keeps going, never straying from his chosen path, never changing his placid pace. When he reaches the tanks on the road, he lays his burning hands on the chromium armor and without even hesitating, melts his through.

The tank operators had the wisdom to evacuate before he could reach them but that’s the lone wisdom they had. One runs at the Tenth with a steel knife! Steel! They just watched him disrespect the strongest alloy known to man! The Tenth immediately drops that guy without a thought, his ass making a satisfying crunch.

When the Tenth makes it through the blockade, battalions of footsoldiers await him on the other side. There’s an echoing cry as they all charge in a single, furious mass. Their guns lay on the ground, completely empty clips scattered all over. They only had their fists to rely on. By then, pure desperation fuels them. There’s a primal need to mark the Tenth, to reach him in any way. Or else… Or else…

They don’t know. They don’t know! They don’t want to know! The reality they understood would be forfeited entirely. They would have to live with the knowledge that beings far greater - that power they cannot comprehend - that giants walk the earth. Death would be preferred - an act of mercy - in the face of that.

The Tenth has no mercy.

As the footsoldiers charge, the Tenth takes a step. Where his foot touches the ground, ice sweeps out - encasing everything for acres around him. Men are frozen where they stand, locked in mid-step with fists cocked and mouths half open. They don’t get anywhere near the Tenth. The fourth night passes peacefully.

He crosses into Barletta some time after daybreak, with only a spare hundred kilometers separating him from Monopoli, where the Insolenza are located. His clothes sit beneath a gritty, bitter layer of dirt, soot, and oil. But there’s not a single tear to be found in the fabric. Now his shoes have given up, which makes sense given all the walking. Only strips of barely stitched together leather are left on his feet. The civilian citizens of the city scuttle away from him, as if he was diseased and not like he was a Capo di tutti Capi. Their Flame blind eyes fail to notice the burning glow radiating from him.

It’s nearing 120 hours, a grand total of five days, and the Tenth still has not slept or eaten. Even more incredibly, he has maintained a state of Hyper Dying Will for thirty hours and counting. Any average Joe would have collapsed long before now, and even the above average Moe would have looked tired at least. Not this guy. He’s just going and going, breathing evenly, and moving fluidly.

When he leaves the more urban areas into proper enemy controlled territory, he encounters a couple more Insolenza men. But these were the assholes that ran from the battle once they realized the futility of the fight. They weren’t about to grow a spine now that the enemy was literally at their doorstep. So… They just follow him. They shadow his steps for the last stretch of the road as the unyielding and unstoppable boss heads for their headquarters. By the time Monopoli is in their sights, there’s a good three dozen of them just ambling behind him. He pays them little mind, taking it all in stride.

As the Tenth hits the city limits, an obscenely slick Porsche rolls up at his side. His new groupies back all the way up as a tall man steps out, pristine and sinful in his tailored suit. He doesn’t interrupt the Tenth’s walk, but keeps up as he circles around him. Without even zooming in, those watching know the newcomer as none other than the famed Reborn, former Sun Arcobaleno but still the world’s greatest hitman. He doesn’t say a word to his once student but his hands move quickly over him.

Taking a total of ten seconds, he completely redresses the Tenth in a new suit - white and clean as freshly fallen snow. He manages to tame the Tenth’s hair, removing all the twigs and leaves and trash that got trapped in there. With a wet towel, he wipes off the accumulated filth on the Tenth’s face, snapping his teeth when the Tenth lets out an annoyed whine. Finally, he sets down a pair of steel toed, wing tipped shoes for the Tenth to step into. All this was done as the Tenth continued his walk. It would have put any quick change Vegas act to shame.

The Tenth arrives at the gates of the Insolenza compound, perfectly coiffed and properly looking like a Mafia Boss. For the past five days, the head family’s bodyguards were inundated with news of the Tenth’s easy progress towards them. So when they finally laid their eyes on him… There was little they could do beyond standing aside, parting before him like the Red Sea did for Moses. The Tenth nods agreeably and invites himself right in.

Vittorio Alessandro Romano di Insolenza stood waiting at the steps to his front door. He sees the Tenth coming and he meets him halfway, holding out a sheaf of papers in his trembling hand. It’s the treaty that the Tenth sent to him awhile back, the first Vongola men visited. Of course, the Insolenza had torn up every single one. It was just this morning, when Romano sent a screaming call to his underbosses and demanded they find him a copy, that they got one in tact. (The truth is that a wiser underling sent a sheepish email requesting a copy from a bemused Hana Kurokawa, the head of the Vongola legal department.)

“Here, just take it. Take it already. And leave. Leave, damn you!” The Insolenza boss spits out, pulling in short, shallow breaths.

“Of course, but I should sign the treaty first, right?” The Tenth smiles, smooth and gentle as silk.

His former enemy jerks his head forward in an attempt to nod. It looks more like he’s having a seizure. Not that anything he does really matters at this point. It’s all just formalities. That doesn’t keep the Tenth from relishing every second. He takes his time patting his pockets, looking for a pen, before a bodyguard shyly offers one. Then, he spends even more time reading through the document as if the Insolenza boss had any audacity left to change something on the sly. But once five excruciating minutes pass, the Tenth signs the treaty with fancy flourish added to his name.

“There. That should do it,” he announces.

A veritable tsunami of relief washes over the gathered crowd.

“Please leave,” the Insolenza boss murmurs, just a heartbeat away from collapsing on the ground.

The Tenth gives him an arch look. “You know… Your men are impressive, I’ll grant you that. I look forward to working with you.”

The Insolenza boss straight up stares - jaw hanging loose - at the young boss who single handedly terrorized and demoralized his men. Tsunayoshi Sawada di Vongola had just won a war without shedding a single drop of blood, yet at the same time bleeding his enemies of all resources and any will to fight. He won a war by barely striking back, only lifting his hands to move something physically out of his way. He won a war by letting everyone take a good, long, hard look at what exactly he’s capable of.

To hear a compliment - earnest and sincere - from someone like that, well… Romano thinks it wouldn’t be so hard to work with him.

“But you gotta stop dumping radioactive waste in the water.”

“Right, sure.”

The Tenth chuckles - a raspy, rattling sound. “You should come to dinner. We’ll iron out the details. And you’re welcome to take a car or even fly over. Not everyone loves a good hike like me.”

Romano chokes on his spit as something warm trickles down his legs. It’s piss. He just pissed himself. Merda.

Without waiting for a response, the Tenth spins on his heel, tucking the treaty into his suit jacket, and walks out the front gates. The newly allied Insolenza family can only watch as he makes his way down the path at an even, unhurried pace.

Half an hour later finds Tsuna far from the Insolenza manor, strolling into downtown Monopoli. He swings by a nearby cafe, where a plate of biscotti and a fresh cup of espresso sit on the counter in a takeout bag.

“Oh good, you got my order!” He says brightly.

The barista gives him a funny look. “Zio, the app says that you ordered this from Rieti?”

“Yep, I just came down here to pick it up. Thanks!” With that, Tsuna grabs his food and walks away.

He takes maybe ten steps from the cafe before that same black Porsche parks itself in front of him. The door opens automatically and Tsuna climbs right in, careful not to spill his drink.

Reborn looks him over, lifting a slim, single brow. “Dame-Tsuna, we have espresso at home.”

“Sure. But I heard good things about this place.” Tsuna grins, sharp and cheeky and boundless with joy.

They laugh the whole way home.