#and both of them fighting so hard to escape the inevitable

[stardotnet]

i've been reading the song of achilles and playing hades and listening to mcr. anyway who else is doomed by the narrative

[whitexwolfxx310]

|| Baby Mine ||

Pairing: Bucky x female reader || Bucky x y/n

Summary: Bucky comes home from from a mission and finds you sick. You make an appointment at the medical bay expecting a routine visit only to find out some pretty surprising news.

Warnings: Unplanned pregnancy, minor talk of options pertaining to, morning sickness, a disgusting amount of fluff, and a small sprinkle of spice at the end just because I felt like it.

Word Count: 3323

A/Ns: First and foremost, I would like to apologize for my hiatus. It was not intended and I hit a writers block. With that being said, I do have a decent amount in my drafts and have been working on getting some new things out there!

I would like to say a special thank you to @lil-darhk who gave me some encouraging words that I really needed to hear & helped get me back on here. ♥️

This is a ONE SHOT. This is not part of my BBWWS. I am still working on that but this is something I have been thinking of for a while and just felt like writing about. I know that a pregnancy troupe is not for everyone. (Personally, I love it and I'm not sure if I will write it into my other storyline.) SO because of that....I give you this. I hope you all enjoy it because the idea of Daddy Bucky to me is just 🤌🏻💋

Waking up to the smell of fresh ground coffee was always a tall tale sign of Bucky being home. Missions can be unpredictable. He can be gone for a few days, to a few weeks, and sometimes even months at a time. Luckily, this time he had only been gone about a month and a half.

Excitement took over as you forego your usual procrastinating in bed stretch to run out of the bedroom. Opening the door, the aroma was heavenly- as if a coffee shop had replaced your kitchen overnight. But your eyes immediately fixed on Bucky who was wearing a smirk while plating two separate stacks of pancakes.

“Breakfast, doll?” His voice as smooth as the warm syrup flowing down from those pancake stacks.

Running and jumping to wrap your arms around his neck was your response. Bucky chuckled, holding both arms out wider so he didn’t drop the plates. He put them down gently onto the counter so that his arms would now be only consumed with you.

“I missed you too.” You don’t have to look up from being buried in his chest to know that he’s smiling, it’s in the lighthearted tone of his voice.

Leaning back slightly with his arms still holding you, he looks into your eyes and plants a petal soft kiss on your lips.

“How come you didn’t wake me up when you got in?” You frown slightly looking up at him.

He shakes his head slightly and shrugs, “You just looked so… peaceful. I couldn’t bare to wake you up. At least, not without sustenance,” Bucky laughs.

Shifting your eyes from Bucky to the pancakes and back, your lips tug in each corner. “Smart man.”

His cooking always felt like home. It was filling, delicious, and you could almost taste the love it was made it with. “Mm,” the small noise escapes low in your throat as you take the last bite. Looking across the kitchen table, Bucky is slumped in his chair, arms folded with a warm smile as he watches you. “What?” The question comes out as a half joke and half concern.

Shaking his head slightly the smile grew. “Nothing, doll. Just missed you is all.” Leaning forward, Bucky rests his elbows on the table continuing to stare a tad bit more than normal.

“You’re acting weird.” You say, adjusting in your seat feeling slightly awkward.

“So what have you been up to while I was away?” He completely ignored your statement, asking an easy and lighthearted question.

“Um..” you start, breakfast starting to feel suddenly heavy in your stomach. “I uh-“ your teeth start to clench down as you swallow hard at the pooling saliva in your mouth. “I went out with Nat-“ your brows furrowed, starting to have difficulty with getting the words out. Bucky’s face quickly contorts to concern as you continue to fight the inevitable. “and her sister for some…s-some drinks-“ the word makes you gag.

Almost as if you channeled some super soldier serum, you pushed back from the table and ran- praying that the pressure of your hand over your mouth will be enough insurance to get to the toilet. It barely was. Breakfast came back up violently, loudly as you kneeled in front of the porcelain king. Even when you thought there couldn’t possibly be anything else to throw up, your stomach wrung on itself, forcing up every last drop of bile.

Breathing heavily into the bowl, skin now glistening with cooling sweat, you realize that your hair has been pulled out of your face. Your eyesight, now no longer blurry, sees Bucky sitting next to you; his right hand holding your hair back in a make shift ponytail and his left hand on the nape of your neck, the coolness of his metal hand being your favorite thing in the world at the moment.

“I’m sorry…” your sob echoed lightly in the toilet. “I’ve never been hung over like this before,” you sit back on your knees, grabbing some tissues to wipe your mouth. You bring yourself to look up at him through hooded and puffy red eyes, feeling instantly embarrassed. Bucky gives you a small reassuring smile as his hand gently rubs up and down your back.

“I’ve had the Russians drink me under the table a few times too. C’mon…” He helps you off of the floor, “let’s get you cleaned up.”

A warm bath, some fresh comfy clothes and a plain cup of tea seemed to make the nausea subside.

“I knew I shouldn’t have drank last night,” you say, looking into the lightly steaming mug. “My stomach hasn’t felt right in a few weeks. I actually have an appointment this afternoon in the medical bay, but I didn’t know you would be home. I can cancel it-”

“What time is your appointment?” He cuts you off,

“Um,” you look towards the wall and squint at the clock. “Actually in 45 minutes,” you laugh softly at the realization.

“Do you want me to go with you?” He offers.

“And miss your debriefing? Why, Sargent Barnes, that’s highly unlike you.” Even with not feeling great you can’t help but give him shit. This is the normal

Shaking his head softly he lets out a small laugh. “Alright,” he puts his hands up in a surrendering gesture, “but call me if anything comes up, okay? I’m worried about you.” Bucky’s voice is soft and sincere as he leans in and plants a small kiss on your forehead. His eyes hesitate, locking on yours for a moment. Leaning back in, he presses his lips to yours. “I love you. So much,”

“Love you more, Bucky.” You smile back up at him.

Sitting on the exam table in nothing but a medical gown, you swing your legs gently back and forth while gently nibbling the tip of your thumb as you wait for the provider.

You jump at the sudden knock at the door. In walks the new physicians assistant for The Compound, a young and beautiful woman who looked like she was straight out of school.

“Hi! My names Bree and I’ll be working with you today. According to the nurse who did your intake, you’re here for-“ she scrolls through your electronic chart on a tablet, “some abdominal issues. Tell me about that,” she sits down on a stool, listening intently.

“It’s.. really not a big deal,” you start, she keeps quiet waiting for you to explain in more detail. “I don’t know,” you start to fumble with a few loose strands of hair. “I’ve just felt this sort of… heaviness? It hasn’t gone away and is just always sort of there?” Your voice is unsure, feeling self conscious as you describe this silly little symptom that you felt the need to make an appointment for. “This morning I got sick. Well, I went out drinking last night, so I’m assuming I’m a little hung over.” Your words start to sound like your rambling.

“Hmm,” Bree says in response. “When was your last period?”

“Um,” the gears start turning in your head as you try to backdate events, plans that had been interrupted because of aunt flow. “About 4 months ago?” It probably wasn’t on purpose, but you could see the clinicians eyebrow raise a centimeter in question. “It’s not what you think!” You quickly try to defend, “I’m on the pill! My periods have always been irregular which is part of the reason I’m on birth control in the first place.”

“Okay,” she responds, skeptical. “And you take the pill religiously?”

“Yes,”

“Everyday?”

“Yeah…”

“At the same time?” Bree’s eyebrow inclines just a little more.

“Well,” now she has you questioning everything that you’ve said. “I always have an alarm on my phone and try to take it the same time everyday.” That makes you feel better, justified.

“Have you been sick recently? Aside from this morning, any need for any prescriptions, antibiotics?”

“I had bronchitis, but that was… god months ago?”

“Okay,” she says flatly, “so we’ll just go ahead and do a minor work up to see if we can figure out what’s going on. The first thing I want to do though, is a pregnancy test.” Even though you could feel your face change, Bree quickly added, “Routine stuff. It’s one of the bases that we always cover early on.”

You suddenly become hyper focused on the urine sample you left on the counter top, as asked by the nurse. Bree takes out a small, flat test from a nearby drawer and uses a pipette to transfer the fluid.

It could have been 30 seconds or 20 minutes, but the idea that pregnancy was even a remote possibility has your insides feeling like they’re folding in on themselves.

“Okay so,” Bree starts, getting your attention. “The test did in fact, come out positive. Since your cycles have been irregular, I’d like to do an ultrasound to see how far along you are and then we can talk about options. Just go ahead and lay back on the table, feet in the stirrups.”

"Positive?" You repeat. "But... What? How?" It comes out breathless.

"Well, sometimes antibiotics can actually cancel out the effects of birth control. We try to advise women to not be sexually active as the body might seize the opportunity to ovulate and result in an unplanned pregnancy. How about we just take a look and go from there, okay?" Bree says just a little too cheerfully as she pats the stirrups.

Following her directions is the only thing you’re able to focus on. Going through the motions of laying down, putting your feet up and opening your legs. Bree’s voice is a murmur mixed with a high pitch ringing as you look up at the ceiling tiles, counting each spect while she sets up the portable sono machine.

“Just a little pressure,” she says, guiding the wand like probe, looking at the screen. “Okay. So, judging from the size… I’d say you’re close to about 9 weeks, give or take a bit. Do you want to hear the heartbeat?” She asks, sweetly. And it’s the first time you’re able to look at her since lying down. Bree patiently waits for your answer with a warm smile. You reluctantly nod your head.

The room fills with soft, muffled whooshing. “It’s so fast. I-is that okay? Is everything okay?” You’re searching her face for any hint of something being wrong. In return, Bree just nods gently as she keeps her smile, still examining the screen.

“A fetus’ heartbeat is a lot quicker than ours. Everything looks perfect actually. Would you… like to see?”

“Yes, please.” You didn't hesitate with your answer this time.

The screen gets tilted towards you and your eyes start darting all around looking for the baby. Your baby. At first you don't see anything. It doesn't look like photos you've seen on Instagram of pregnancy announcements. But then, in the middle of what looks like a black balloon, is a bean with limbs. In the center of this bean is a lively flicker. Bree uses her index finger to point to the screen.

"There's the fetus' arms and legs," she points to the extremities, "and here," her finger gently taps on the pulsing center, "is the heart."

The whooshing matches the pace of the flicker; lub-dub, lub-dub, lub-dub. Hearing the heartbeat in synch with the pulsing on the screen causes your own heartbeat to match for a moment.

So this is love.

After a moment, Bree removes the probe and rips a paper from the ultrasound machine. "Here's some pictures for you," she hands them to you as you sit up on the bed. "I want to see you back here in three weeks for another check up... unless you want to discuss other options?" You shake your head. "Do you have any questions for me?"

“No, not right now.” You’re solely focused on the pictures now in your hand. Even though the image is burned into your brain, holding a physical copy has some how made it more real.

The rest of the afternoon was a whirlwind. There was no possible way that you’re actually pregnant. Even with the new noticeable symptoms and bathroom counter littered in double pink lined tests, it still seemed so unbelievable. That’s not even the hardest part. How am I going to tell Bucky?

Just as the reality starts to set in of having to tell the other adult who is directly involved, the front door to the apartment opens.

"Hey, doll!" Bucky calls loudly from the hallway, the thumping of his boots following his voice. "Sorry that the meeting ran late. I figured we could order in tonight. What about that Thai place you like?" He waits for a response while buzzing around the kitchen, no doubt making himself coffee for the dozenth time today. "Doll?" The question echoes through the quiet apartment.

"I'm in here," you acknowledge softly from the living room couch. Bucky pokes his head out from the hallway, breathing a sigh of relief.

"There you are," he starts walking towards you. "If you tell me what you would like for dinner, I'll call it in and then-" his voice and steps stop abruptly. "Hey... you okay?"

"Uh, yeah. Yeah, I'm okay." You answer, obviously distracted.

"That doesn't sound too convincing," Bucky hesitated, looking you over and taking a few steps closer.

"I-I have to tell you something." Your tone is soft, scared. You’re fidgeting with the edges of your sweater sleeves.

“Is it something the doctor said?” His voice is softer now, reluctant and afraid. While his piercing, cerulean blue eyes continue to search yours for the answer, wide and terrified.

“I-“

Should I have gotten balloons? Made him open a box with one of the pregnancy tests or a cute onesie inside? Bake a damn cake?

“Y/n?!” Bucky didn’t yell but definitely had to get your attention. “You’re scaring me. What’s going on?!” He pleaded. Why were the words so difficult to say? Maybe because it hasn’t been said out loud yet. Or that it’s still so shocking. Or maybe that verbalizing it will just make it that more real. You turn on your heels and run to the bathroom.

“Y/n!!” He calls after you, but you know he’ll be just a few steps behind.

Picking up a handful of the positive tests off of the vanity counter with your heartbeat pounding in your ears in combination with his heavy footsteps getting closer.

“Seriously! What is going on-“ Bucky is flustered as he steps into the entryway and stops abruptly at the sight of you facing him, holding the tests fanned out.

“I’m pregnant.” There it is. You’re holding your breath, waiting to see what he’ll say. Aside from contraceptives, you’ve never had any kind of discussions pertaining to a family.

His face softens as he takes a step forward, his eyes hyper fixated on all the double pink lines. Bucky’s chest rises and falls deeply now. “You’re… pregnant? Not sick?” He asks to clarify, being cautious.

“Morning sickness, apparently”, a small laugh escapes and it surprises you. “But other than that, I’m fine. We’re fine.”

The ‘we’re’ part catches his attention. He’s looking into your eyes once again, searching. But, for what?

“Is this… something you want? With… me?” He suddenly sounds so adolescent and anxious. Who can blame him? This took you both completely by surprise. Knowing Bucky, he would support you in whatever you wanted. Whatever decision you thought was best for you, your body, your health in every aspect, he would respect and advocate for. He is being cautious with his response to the news until he knows what your decision is.

Putting the tests down, you take both of his hands into yours and take a deep breath.

“Bucky, if you had asked me this morning, I wouldn’t have known what our future would hold. But knowing what I know now… I want this baby. I want to be a mom and for us to be a family. That being said, I know that this is something that we never talked about. If this isn’t something you want, I underst-“

You’re suddenly cut off by his lips pressing into yours. It feels like a weight has been lifted as Bucky’s arms gently wrap around you to bring you closer. Kissing becomes increasingly difficult around giggles and the obnoxiously big smiles you’re both wearing.

When your lips finally part, Bucky’s eyebrows are raised in excitement. His eyes are darting around your torso as if the news would suddenly show physical changes on your body.

“I can’t believe it…” he breathes, ��I actually get the chance to be a Dad-” The word comes out almost as a choked sob. My heart.

Reaching into your back pocket, you pull out the ultrasound Bree had given to you earlier, holding it up for him to see.

"Look, our baby's first photo!"

Bucky takes the picture as gently as if someone were handing him an actual newborn baby. He just stares, probably confused as to what he was looking at similarly to you just a few hours ago.

"I know it doesn't really look like anything right now- but I go back in a few weeks and-"

"Are you kidding?" He looks up from the black and white photo to meet your eyes, a watery sheen coating his own. "This is the most amazing thing I have ever seen in my life." Bucky says softly, as if to himself, looking back down at the picture. And he's smiling. A genuine, heartfelt smile.

That night was the closest he had ever held you in his arms. The two of you made up for lost conversations and started planning for your future and what it held as you laid in bed. Bucky talked about how he wanted to build a crib instead of buying one and was curious what the appropriate amount of time was to wait until you could both start telling everyone. Excitement was an understatement for this man.

"Can I go with you to your next appointment?" He asked, in a hopeful tone as his fingers traced along smooth, soft circles around your belly button. You giggle, wincing at one specific caress.

"Hey! That tickles! But, of course you can. You can come to all of them. I was... kinda hoping you would?" In return, your tone holds the same anticipation.

"I wouldn't miss it." Bucky's palm flattens against your belly as he places a kiss against your temple.

"Don't get used to that," You say looking down. "We're going to start growing and getting bigger any day now." You fake a frown, although there is a small part of you that isn't necessarily faking.

"Hmm." A low hum vibrates from the back of Bucky's throat as he shifts his body down along yours.

His fingertips skim the hem of your sleep shirt before pulling it up and exposing your stomach. The coolness of the air makes your abdomen tighten, but is soon replaced with petal soft kisses. "When you say 'grow', I hope you mean grow more beautiful by the day." Each firm press of his lips feels like its igniting your skin on fire with the newfound sensitivity. Your toes start to dig down into the mattress.

"Because, y/n..." Bucky repositions himself onto his knees, one now conveniently pressed in-between your legs. The pressure alone makes your heart rate spike and has you borderline panting. He hovers over you, "There isn't anything in this world I find more beautiful or more attractive than my girl carrying my child." He holds your gaze, intense and primal- more than you've ever seen.

"Do you understand?" Bucky asks with a raised brow. You nod hastily and he grins in response. "Good girl. Now, let's see if those rumors about hyper sensitivity are true. Judging by how you're writhing under me and the wet spot on my knee... I'm really going to enjoy the next few months."

If you enjoyed this, please check out my masterlist! Requests are open!

@peaches1958 @aquabrie @elsie-bells @pono-pura-vida @redbloodedgurl @almosttoopizza @beware-my-thorns @prettylittlepluviophile @annoyinglythoughtfuldestiny @calwitch @ozwriterchick @roofwitty779 @lessersole @lil-darhk @agoddoesnotplead @saranghaey @erinallene @mrsvxder @elizabeth916 @cjand10 @bucky-barnes-lover @skyf-7

[lace-coffin]

Hay, Sugar ~ ✨

Sorry if I bother you but, do you mind if I give you my rq about Billy lenz and Brams heelshire with mommy kink.Fem s/o look at them like babies because every time they do that~ they love sucking on her tits.

Sorry to bother you and thank you ❤️

Slashers with a mommy kink x fem!reader (Nsfw)

Warning for mommy kink, focus on nipple and breast play, humiliation/degradation

Requests are closed (for now!)

You’re no bother at all!! As a lesbian I’m always happy to write or read a mommy kink ; )

Brahms Heelshire

It was really only a matter of time with Brahms, any time spent together curled up on the sofa ended with him suckling on your tits sooner or later.

The first time it happened you hadn’t known what to think. Both of you had settled onto the sofa for the night, throwing on a movie you’d inevitably loose interest in and slumping over eachother. It had been a hard day for the both of you, you heading to the village for home supplies and additional items that weren’t exactly Malcom’s job to bring, and Brahms staying at home trying not to loose his mind whilst you were gone.

Brahms was getting better at keeping his cool when you had to leave, you’d been working on it together, even convincing him to see a therapist on the grounds that it was over the phone and you were present to help him verbalise his thoughts. However healing is an upwards fight and it takes time, so despite making progress the notion of you leaving for long periods of time is still distressing to him.

Needless to say Brahms was a cuddle bug when you returned, meeting you at the door like a lost puppy after padding back and forth past the window waiting for you 20 minutes prior. You had already accounted for this, you knew he’d need some extra love when you returned, picking up some snacks as a treat for him whilst you were shopping. After placating him with soft kisses to his mask and finally detaching him from your waist you convince him to watch a movie.

Not even 15 minutes into the movie Brahms is getting handsy with you, large hands pawing at the hem of your shirt, fingers wiggling under to press against your warm skin. You pretend not to notice and he doesn’t go any further than that for another 20 or so. You know he can’t help himself.

Calloused hands slip under your bra and you let out a groan, biting your lip and finally paying full attention to the man next to you. “You miss me that much baby?” You murmur, scooting closer and speeding things up by pulling your shirt and bra over your head. Even behind the mask you can tell your partner is blushing, tips of his ears a soft pink. Brahms doesn’t think he’ll ever get tired of seeing you topless.

You sigh contently as he fully cups your breasts, fitting perfectly in his hands, a squeak of surprise escapes your mouth as a finger glides over your nipple, pinching and pulling, working you up just right. An idea crosses your mind, despite not having brought it up before you know Brahms is game to most things if they involve getting to touch you.

“Brahms?” He slowly looks away from what he was doing and meets your eyes, tilting his head in question. “You wanna try something new?” He visibly perks up at this. “I need to take your mask off for it though, is that ok with you honey?” “Take it off for me?” He asks back. You nod and gently pull it away from his face, setting it on the side table. “There’s my pretty boy” you coo, running your fingers across the puckered burn scars.

A beat passes and you work up the courage to ask. “Do you want to suck on mommy’s tits baby?” An almost pained noise of arousal slips from his mouth, you don’t even get another word out before he’s latching onto your chest, hot tongue laving over your hardened nipple, the other being given attention with his free hand.

“Fuck..just like that, my perfect boy” Brahms whines around your breast in his mouth, hips bucking at the praise. Swapping to the opposite breast he switches to kneading your tits in his other hand. You can already see he’s hard and leaking in his boxers. So cute. You’re equally as needy from all the attention to your sensitive tits, but unwilling to let it end this early in favour of getting off, he looks so lost in it, worshiping your body like a god.

Billy Lenz

Billy isn’t shy when it comes to his sexual wants and needs and with the way his childhood played out it’s no surprise he has a mommy kink, he didn’t stand a chance let’s be honest. Luckily you’re more than eager to indulge him in this, loving the power exchange and the confidence it fills you with, seeing your partner pathetic on his knees, cock needy and wet for you.

Crossing your legs you sit on a deep green velvety chair, bought just for this purpose. It’s ornate and exemplifies your expensive and untouchable aura in this setting. Below you sits Billy, in nothing but his boxers. There’s something thrilling about you being fully dressed whilst he’s stripped at your feet.

Billy isn’t hard to please, letting him rut his leaky cock against your leg as you spit filthy words at him is enough to get him off if you’d be kind enough to allow it. You drop your gaze to him, sickly sweet look on your face, patronising. “Are you close you little freak? Almost cumming in your pants from rutting against me like a dog in heat? That’s disgusting.”

Billy grunts in agreement, words going straight to his cock. You hum, raising your foot to press into the base of his cock, making him squirm. “Use your words, slut.” He pants again, pushing his face into your calf and whining. “Y-yes mommy, I’m disgusting, pathetic..fuck. Gonna cum please-“ you cut him off before he can finish his plead.

“Quiet, come up here and help mommy out and maybe I’ll think about it” you snap back, unbuttoning your shirt and removing your bra, revealing your chest to him and revelling in the way he eyes it hungrily. Billy wastes no time in pulling himself up shakily, plopping down on your lap and attaching himself to your nipple. You let out a gasp of surprise and groan, slipping your hands into his curly chestnut hair and guiding him.

It’s wet and sloppy, saliva cooling slowly on your skin. His tongue is eager and making sure to switch between both nipples. Popping off he gives you a bit of respite, sucking red marks into the meat of your tits that he knows will bruise beautifully tomorrow. “Mmm there we go, that’s what you’re good for isn’t it? Just a slutty little mouth for me?” Billy moans in reply. It’s like he’s in a trance, lost to the sensation and taste of your skin under his teeth and tongue, eyes glazed over and unfocused, only interested in pleasing you and taking as much of you as he can into his enthusiastic mouth.

You could watch him forever, he almost seems content if it wasn’t for the obvious hardness pressing against your thigh, you’ll reward him well for this, after you’ve had your fun that is, you aren’t ready to let him go just yet.

[clockwork-krow]

I've been thinking a lot about Kai and Morro again, and specifically their parallels (dangerous thing, I know) and I just really wanted to ramble about what I've taken to calling the inferno of destiny parallel.

As a beginner ninja, both Morro and Kai dealt with arrogance, recklessness, and anger. We see this in how Morro took extremely dangerous risks to get Wu to save him, with how he assumed he was to be the green ninja when Wu told him he believed Morro was to wear green, and how Morro reacted when the weapons didn't react to him (ripping off the sliding door). We see this in how younger Kai jumps into situations without a genuine plan, how he gets angry and often (literally) explodes with fire when something frustrates him, and how he kind of defaults to the coolest person on the team/the hot one/the center of attention/etc when that's just really the immature persona he's thrown up to try and be the best.

Both Morro and Kai want to be the best at what they can do, and when they heard about a chance to be even better than their original concepts of the best (becoming the Green Ninja), both of them jumped at it.

Morro trained so hard he ended up hurting the kids he was training against and worrying Wu

Kai tried so hard to be the green ninja he ended up placing unnecessary strain on his relationships and even went so far as to risk letting people get hurt/die because he was prioritizing what he thought might get him closer to being the Green Ninja (a competitive line of thinking that Kai's been known to buy into in addition to his constant needs to try to be the best in the situation before he matures) (btw I'm talking about him originally trying to get the fang blade instead of. yknow. the CHILD about to burn lol.)

So, where do we see the shift from heroic to villanous in these two suspiciously similar characters? Well, it's when both of them are placed in an inferno scenario where they have to choose between pursuing their perceived destiny and their true destiny; hence, the inferno of destiny parallel.

Morro

When Morro searches so long to try and find a way to become the Legendary Green Ninja and rewrite destiny, he eventually finds himself in the Caves of Despair. We don't have the details of what happened, but we see the ninja try to escape Morro's fate in season 5 episode 7 titled "The Crooked Path". Here we see them encounter geysers that are releasing poisonous gases at an alarming rate, and they also spray boiling water/steam out in addition to rising the temperature to an unbearable level in the cave. It's reasonable to assume that Morro experienced a cave-in due to the caves' lack of structural integrity (also experienced by the ninja)* and then was killed either from burns from the hot steam and/or due to inhaling too much of the dangerous gasses.

The point of Morro's inferno: Morro couldn't accept the fact that he was not destined to be the Green Ninja, so he wasn't willing to turn away from his perceived destiny to save his own life. He wouldn't leave the cave because he couldn't let go of the fact that his perceived destiny wasn't his true destiny.

Kai

When Kai trains and practices to become the Green Ninja, making rash decisions (like jumping down for the Fang Blade again) and reckless choices that hurt his relationships (like barricading himself into a room to fight Garmadon for… literally no reason other than his desire to be the Green Ninja), he eventually finds himself in a similar inferno: The Fire Temple. An ancient temple constructed inside a volcano that once held the Sword of Fire, this is where the fourth and final Fang Blade is located and where the ninja must fight against Pythor and the other Serpentine generals for it. The volcano begins to erupt and collapse in on itself, and Kai ends up with a choice: save young Lloyd from his inevitable death in the erupting volcano, or try to reach the Fang Blade before it ends up in the hands of Pythor. This is the critical moment* for Kai, as he has to choose between his percieved destiny (becoming the Green Ninja and getting the Fang Blade) or his true destiny (protecting Lloyd in the hopes of saving both of their lives). In the end, he chooses to give up the thing he'd been working towards for most likely months now to try and be the best in the favor of saving a kid that used to be a massive pain in the ass (no offense, little Lloyd).

The point of Kai's inferno: Kai gave up his perceived destiny in the end, and only then was he able to unlock his True Potential in addition to being able to escape the Fire Temple safely with Lloyd and himself still alive. He was able to save himself and Lloyd because he gave up something that had felt like such a core part of his being, that he believed was his destiny, even though it turned out not to be.

He even says this himself to Sensei Wu: "I knew when I had to make a choice. I wanted the Fangblade so badly, to prove I was good enough to become the Green Ninja. But then I figured it out. All of my training to become the best ninja wasn't in preparation to become the Green Ninja. It was… to protect him." (s1e10, titled "The Green Ninja")

Kai and Morro both experience infernos that threaten their lives and rely on their ability to relinquish their percieved goals in favor of the objectively best choice in the moment. Morro was unable to give up what he truly believed was his destiny, and he ended up dead and sent to the Cursed Realm as a result. Kai was able to give up what he had been working towards for so long, and was able to save his life and Lloyd's life (especially entertaining when you remember that Kai had to give up trying to be the Green Ninja to… save the Green Ninja, lmao)

The critical moment I noted with a * for both Kai and Morro is that this point is the moment where each of them have to decide what's more important to them: what they believe is their destiny, or what would save their life. Morro tried to push through to his "destiny" and became too hurt or sick from the fumes to escape, and eventually died there. Kai gave up his "destiny" and just barely managed to escape with his life and Lloyd's.

So yes, I love the inferno of destiny parallel quite a bit! All three of these characters are very near and dear to my heart and they're rotating in my brain like a rotisserie chicken lmao

[barrenclan]

I don't want to overly challenge the anon who criticized the decision to blind Ranger and damage Hacksaws wing, but I think reading it has me wondering: What would the alternatives be?

Before I go super into this, I want to acknowledge that while I am disabled, my disabilities aren't connected to visual impairment or losing a limb, so I want to make it clear that I'm not trying to speak on behalf of that experience. That's not really my place, yeah?

But I think something about Warrior Cats, especially when extended to something like this, is also a story about exploring pain. Death and disability are as synonymous with this story as they are with most warrior cats fiction, for the better or worse, because the themes of the story revolve around what it means to suffer. The main distinction between the living and dead of this story is that the living get to see another day, as physically or emotionally damaged as they are. Barrenclan and the Defiance are ruled by this concept, even though the defiance perverts the idea into something grander than it actually is. Hacksaw and Rangers fate is kind of just an inevitably of the lives of all defiance members: They fight, and they either die or live to suffer another day. I don't really see it as a moral to their lives so much as just a consequence. The defiance can hurt and kill and maim, but it can't escape the fact these things can and will happen to them. The defiance is just a way for characters to trick themselves into thinking they're above that fate.

As for a writing perspective... If you have things you want to do with the characters after this, then yeah, I understand the decision. Otherwise they kinda have to die, since they wouldn't leave Barrenclan alone. It's always good to keep in mind things to avoid for the future, but it's also okay to tell complicated stories that leave messages that are hard to digest. Art isn't going to resonate with people all the time, and it shouldn't. I respect that you've responded to the criticism with humility and openness though!

I'm not gonna post any more about this after now, but I wanted to share this ask both because it's very well written and I think it does bring up some big themes in the story that I didn't mention but think are important!

And a general thank you to everyone for keeping a Warriors fancomic about incredibly intense topics on Tumblr so vastly chill and normal. My inbox and my brain appreciates it.

[kaleidoscopewritings19]

Jason Todd x Reader

Title: Bad Kisser

Character(s): Jason Todd and female reader

Warnings: None. Mentions of semi smut. Not even close enough to be smut.

Prompt used is in bold and credit goes to: @asassydork

Jason was sprawled out on the couch at Wayne Manor, when you walked in and tossed your purse on the couch. “Dick’s not here you’ll have to come back later.” He said as he flipped through the TV channels.

It didn’t stop you from sitting on the couch opposite of him. Jason looked over at you, and you were wearing a black (thigh length) dress with spaghetti straps. Red heels were on your feet, and boy did your thighs look soft. If he just angled himself just right, he could see right up your dress.

After you caught onto what he was doing, you quickly crossed your legs. Jason laughed, "Don't flatter yourself, Princess. It's not like I haven't seen it before."

You glared at him, "Shut up Jason. Wait- when have you seen me-"

"Never mind that. Why are you dressed like that? Are you and Dick a thing now?" he asked, and you shook your head.

"No. And for your information, I had a date." You said as you sunk further back into the couch.

“Didn’t go well?” He asked and you shrugged your shoulders. “Is it shallow of me to say he was a bad kisser, Jay?” You genuinely asked, and he looked over at you.

The remote control was up against his lips and he chose his words carefully. “Yes.”

His words infuriated you and you grabbed a throw pillow and threw it at him. “You’re such an ass!” You shouted and Jason got up off the couch with the pillow in hand.

He began hitting you with the pillow (not hard enough to hurt you), and you tried to fight back. “Stop…. It!” You shouted between laughs. Now you were lying on your back, trying to block his hits.

You snatched the pillow out of his hands and he toppled on top of you. Instantly, you started tickling his sides, and he began laughing. “Stop! Haha- I can’t breathe!”

After you had stopped, he tried to catch his breath. His dark brown eyes were now focused on you and his smile faded away. Until now, you didn’t realize how soft Jason’s lips looked— nor did you realize how good he smelled. He smelled faintly of musk and vanilla, with a hint of cigarettes.

Your Chanel No. 5 perfume began to mix with the cigarette smell to the point it became sexily intoxicating. Jason’s eyes were now on your lips, and he couldn’t help but to slowly kiss them. His lips moved slowly against yours, sucking, and biting your lower lip.

A moan escaped past your red lips, and he smiled during the kiss. But he couldn’t find it in him to stop, so he kept going until you pulled away to catch your breath.

“Jason— we shouldn’t be doing this.” You whispered and he brought your hands above your head. He pressed kisses from your neck up to your jaw line.

“We both want this. We’ve both wanted this for a long time. Really, it was inevitable.” He whispered into your neck. His breath tickled your ear, turning you on even more.

His finger tips traced along your collar bone, and slowly started to pull down the thin strap of your dress. “You’re so beautiful.” He whispered into your ear, causing you to shiver.

But the sound of the front door opening made you sit up, making your head collide with Jason.

“Ouch!”

“Shit!” The two of you exclaimed as Dick stopped dead in his tracks.

He looked at your disheveled appearance and your smeared lipstick. Dick motioned between the two of you. “I.. I don’t even want to know.”

Dick left the room quickly, and Jason’s attention was back on you. “Want to go out on a date tonight?” He asked and you smiled.

“Well it definitely can’t be as a bad as the last one.” You said, and Jason’s lips were back on yours.

“Is it shallow of me to ask if I’m a bad kisser?” He asked and you laughed. “You’re far from a bad kisser, Todd. How long have you wanted this?” You asked and his hand rested on your thigh.

“A really….” He pressed a kiss to your chin. “Really.” He kiss your jawline. “Really.” And then his lips moved slowly against yours. “Long time.”

You had always had a crush on Jason. Who wouldn’t? He was handsome. He was sexy. And he would protect anything or anyone that was his, and that gave him extra points. After that, it was like you were marked. You were his and only his, and anyone who tried to hurt you, might as well have signed their own death sentence.

____

Another short one, and I hope you enjoyed it! I’m kind of on a Jason kick. 👀

[everydayyoulovemeless]

Oooh you do yandere stuff?? Can I please have something for yandere Joshua Graham, either headcanons or the alphabet would be great!

Yandere Joshua Alphabet

➼ Word Count » 1.7k ➼ Warnings » yandere themes ➼ Genre » Romantic, Yandere

Affection - How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?

Joshua shows his affection through how he shelters you. He hates it when you leave the camp without him, and does everything he can to ensure you won't end up being a target for the White Legs or any other Legionary assassin that may come for him again. He's fully aware of the influence Ceasar has and would take this aspect of your relationship very seriously. You won't leave without someone else going with you. He simply won't allow it.

Blood - How messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling?

In a normal relationship, Joshua would be more hesitant to show how violent he can get. But, in this situation, all the drive to hide who he really is goes out the window. He's willing to go as far as he needs to when it comes to you. Anyone necessary. The tribals, your companions, and even Daniel. He'd slaughter them all if it meant you'd be safe. He'd even do it in front of you.

Cruelty - How would they treat their darling once abducted? Would they mock them?

No. He thinks it's rude. It's not your fault that you aren't as experienced as he is. In fact, the whole reason he'd abduct you is to be able to keep a better eye on you. Making fun of you for something that was inevitably going to happen isn't something he's prone to doing.

Darling - Aside from abduction, would they do anything against their darling’s will?

He's going to have you baptized, whether you want to or not, but besides that, he wouldn't dream of forcing you to do anything you didn't want to.

Exposed - How much of their heart do they bare to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling?

There are times when it feels as if you don't even know the man. He's quiet and incredibly closed off, even to you. He'll try to discreetly tell you about himself through bible verses or poetic words, but other than that, he's not jumping for you to learn about his past with the Legion any time soon. He wants you to love and trust him, not despise him.

Fight - How would they feel if their darling fought back?

He understands it. This world is harsh, of course, your instinct is to fight him. However, after the first week of staying with him, he hopes you’ll calm down and finally just accept that you’ll never get away from him.

Game - Is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching their darling try to escape?

He won’t. If you try and escape the humble home he’s managed to set up for you both in Zion, he’s going to be upset. Even with all the knowledge he’s told you about the White Legs and all those around who want to hurt you, and you still want to try your luck? He’ll be disappointed, to say the least. He expects you to have more instinct than that.

Hell - What would be their darling’s worst experience with them?

He's always taken his philosophies seriously, even when he was in the Legion. So, if he ever overhears you saying something he deems to be blasphemous towards his religion, you're going to have a very hard time calming him down. He'll force you to pray out loud to the Lord and ask for forgiveness until he's satisfied. It doesn't matter to him if it takes hours, he refuses to let you be shunned to Hell for a sorry mistake such as the one you committed. What kind of husband would he be if he didn't seek to save you from God's wrath?

Ideals - What kind of future do they have in mind for/with their darling?

If he had it his way, you’d be the perfect housewife, staying home to cook and clean while he went out and did whatever. Some Legion habits never left him, and coming back to a loving spouse who’s prepared to comply with his every whim is one of them. Just the perfect nuclear family.

Jealousy - Do they get jealous? Do they lash out or find a way to cope?

He gets very quiet when he's jealous, preferring to be silent rather than blatantly lashing out at whoever is triggering these feelings. He thinks it's stupid that he gets so upset at the tribals for simply being around you. It's not like you'd leave him - not like you could - so why is he so stressed? He'll pray and go on walks to try and combat his jealousy, it's one of the only things he actively tries to work on.

Kisses - How do they act around or with their darling?

He acts as any spouse would. He kisses you on your hands or on your cheeks to greet you, rests a gentle hand on your lower back when you're near him, and does everything he can to take care of you.

Love letters - How would they go about courting or approaching their darling?

As he believes any man should: with trinkets and thought-out dates. He wants to court you the right way, even if you’re aware from the start that you’ve got no other choice other than to accept his advances.

Mask - Are their true colors drastically different from the way they act around everyone else?

On the outside it doesn’t appear as if anything has changed, however he feels different. There’s an urge now, something that tells him to kill. He’s felt it before during his peak in the Legion, but now it’s come back and he’s not sure what else to do than to quench the thirst of fear that floods him by ensuring your safety. Maybe it’s God's will that’s enforcing him to protect you.

Naughty - How would they punish their darling?

He’d shout and maybe grab your face, but he couldn’t imagine going any farther than that. If he wants to get his point across then he’ll just let you feel the raw fear that getting chased by Legionaries gives you (only once, he doesn’t want you to be actually harmed), but enough to get you to listen.

Oppression - How many rights would they take away from their darling?

He’ll take away your right to leave the tribes camp, your right to your weapons, your right to your opinions, your right of religion - there’s not much he doesn’t have control over.

Patience - How patient are they with their darling?

Joshua thinks he's patient, but he has a clear temper. He'll be kind one moment then angry the next. Although he does his best to not take it out on you, it's still terrifying to witness. Sometimes you wonder if it'd just be best to listen and avoid his fits altogether...

Quit - If their darling dies, leaves, or successfully escapes, would they ever be able to move on?

No, he’s got it in his mind that God assigned him specifically to defend you and keep you safe, so if he ever were to fail that, he’d feel as if he were betraying the Lord's trust.

Regret - Would they ever feel guilty about abducting their darling? Would they ever let their darling go?

How could he? You're better off this way. He's sworn to care for your every need. He'll feed you, give you access to water, cloth you, comfort you, bleed for you, house you - why should he feel guilty about doing you a favor? For loving you?

Stigma - What brought about this side of them (childhood, curiosity, etc)?

Joshua has always had this need to worship in his life. It could be seen with how devoted he was to the Legion and the will of Caesar, then with God, and now with you. There's a primal urge within him to commit himself to wherever he feels most desired, and that just happened to be you.

Tears - How do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves?

It shatters him, especially if you're acting like this because of something he did. He'll sit beside your curled-up form and whisper Bible verses and scriptures as a way to encourage and reassure you.

Unique - Would they do anything different from the classic yandere?

Vice - What weakness can their darling exploit in order to escape?

His religion is a massive weak point, and if you can somehow convince him that it was God's will for you to go elsewhere, he may just let you go. Granted, you'd have to be really good at persuading people. He's a logical man and won't just take your word for it so easily.

Wit’s end - Would they ever hurt their darling?

Not intentionally, but sometimes he forgets his own strength when it comes to handling you. He likes to brush it under the rug though, best not to think about it.

Xoanon - How much would they revere or worship their darling? To what length would they go to win their darling over?

In his mind, he's already won you over. Of course, he'll still go through the process of romancing you and won't ever stop doing that, but his delusions tell him that you've already fallen for him. One thing about Joshua, however, is that he almost sees you as a second Christ. If you ask him to do something, he'll do it no questions asked. But, in the same sense, he's paranoid that you'll be crucified just like the Lord and is constantly looking out for that certain 'Judas' that will betray you.

Yearn - How long do they pine after their darling before they snap?

Like a day. The second he feels different around you compared to others, he's got it in his head that you're a divine being or, at the very least, someone God wanted him to meet.

Zenith - Would they ever break their darling?

He hopes to 'break you in' to his way of life, but he hopes that it won't have to be violent or over the top in any way. He's certain you'll come around to his way of thinking soon enough, even if you need a little shove.

[the-modern-typewriter]

A hero and villain prompt (not romantic) with the concept built around the sentence “you never learn, do you?” In my head the villain says it to the hero, but I don’t particularly care either way. Thanks if you can, thanks if you can’t!

"You never learn, do you?"

The hero's breathing came hard, their wavering vision fixed on a spot on the horizon. "'Fraid not."

"Mm." The villain's fingers combed through the hero's hair, far too tender for the fury radiating from them. "Perhaps you simply enjoy these lessons."

"Perhaps the lesson is not one worth learning. "

They had been friends once.

The villain snorted. Their grip tightened, wrenching the hero's head back, their body off the floor. The hero’s forcefield spluttered, once, twice, before guttering out completely. Pain twinged up the hero's scalp. They closed their eyes.

"Look at me."

"No thanks," they kept their voice light. "I feel sick enough already."

But they both knew it wasn't just that.

"You've exhausted your reserves," the villain said. "Again."

"Like you care."

"You could escape for good if you stopped doing that. If you stopped coming out of hiding any time the city is threatened."

"Like. You. Care."

But of course the villain cared. And of course that changed nothing.

"I have to bring you back," the villain said. "Open your eyes. You don't need to make this more painful."

"You don't have to do anything. "

"Neither do you. This could be someone else's fight."

"I'll just escape again. I always do."

"Will you? Because the company is learning, even if you're not."

The hero swallowed.

The villain tugged at their head.

The hero's jaw clenched.

The villain clicked their tongue, frustrated. Inevitably, their other hand rose, wrapping around the hero's throat, cradling their spent and battered body against the villain’s hips. Power seeped from the villain's palm. It burrowed through skin and sinew where the eyes gave away to influence so easily.

The telepathic lessons were always the same.

Don't run. Don't resist. Do as you're told.

"Ridiculous, " the villain murmured, as the hero's eyes fell open, with no barriers or protection left in place to shield them. "Making me chase after my own bodyguard. I can't keep pleading to the board for you."

"Yes. Well," the hero rasped. "You never learn, do you?"

Eighteen months later, the cycle repeated again.

[noxturnalpascal]

Devotion 🖤 I. Stronger Together (Ch 1)

CultLeader!Joel x OFC!Reader

Series Summary: When is it enough? When is it too much? When does Devotion become Obsession?

Visit the Series Masterlist for series warnings, cult info, timeline info, and HCs on ages. Reader has a nickname and some minor physical descriptions - is an OFC from Reader POV.

*This series is 18+ MDNI. I will not be listing individual chapter warnings as I don't want to spoil the plot of each chapter. Please see the series masterlist for entire series warnings to decide if this is for you.*

I. Stronger Together

CH 1 (5.4k) You can hear it behind you, wheezing breath, strangled grunts. You’re pretty sure it’s getting closer but you don’t dare to look backwards. It’s been following you halfway down this mountain, dragging itself along, waiting for the inevitable. You plod on, one foot in front of the other, letting gravity help you fall forward, knees threatening to buckle with each slap of your foot down on the dirt. 

It’s been hours of this now, you must be miles away. Away from the little snow-topped cabin where you were ambushed by a single infected behind a closed bathroom door. Away from where the rest of your party was bitten, first by the clicker and then by each other. Away from where you had to shoot each of them, one by one, until you ran out of bullets and escaped out a window.

You wish you could silence your cumbersome steps. You wish you could quiet your labored breaths. You wish you could stop the drip, drip, drip of your blood from smattering onto the dried leaves underneath your feet. Maybe then this one-legged, blind, croaking monster behind you would cease its pursuit. Then you could stop moving and just close your eyes for a moment. You just need a moment, just one moment.

You think you do close your eyes for just a second, and it’s then that you trip over a buried tree root. Your eyes open as your face meets the ground, wet and hard, knocking the wind out of you. Everything immediately hurts. You can barely think. One arm remains wrapped tight around you while you attempt to pull yourself forward on your other elbow, away from the scratchy breathing. 

You feel a hand clawing at your shoe. Kicking the shoe off, you roll away, further down the hill as best you can. Reaching one hand out, you grab at sticks and stones, anything you can grasp, throwing them backwards in an attempt to slow down the inescapable. You hear nothing but your own muffled heartbeat pounding in your ears. It's so loud it sounds like hoofbeats. 

You finally roll onto your back to face it, watching it slowly closing the small gap between you, bony fingers outstretched towards you. You close your eyes again. You’re so tired.

A gunshot rings out.

Tiny specks of blood spatter outward, covering both you and a circular pattern on the ground around you in a fine red mist. The infected falls backwards, unmoving. Your eyes are open now, ears ringing. You hear muffled shouting and then there’s a gun barrel in your face. You’re too tired for this. You close your eyes again.

Another gunshot rings out.

“What the fuck you think you’re doin’?” Joel shouts, having grabbed the barrel of the gun just in time.

“He’s infected!” the man previously holding the gun says, pointing at your blood-soaked torso.

“You think that–,” Joel points to the deformed clicker lying next to you, “woulda followed him halfway down the mountain if he was already infected?”

Joel leans down at your side, gently opening your jacket to assess the damage. He sees several layers of cloth wrapped around your torso, all soaked in blood beneath your ribcage, where your bloodied hand still clutches right over a large shard of glass sunk into your middle.

“Bring my horse, now,” Joel yells at the rest of his party.

He’s sure about three things. One, unlike the fungus-covered body lying beside you, you are not infected. No one infected fights this hard to stay alive. Two, you are most definitely bleeding to death. The tight bindings around your middle likely serve as the only thing keeping your slowly-draining body alive. Three, despite your short-cut hair and boyish appearance due to the many layers enveloping your chest, you are – in fact – a woman.

Days later someone comes bursting through his office door. Come quick, Joel. It’s all he needed to hear to follow the messenger to the clinic, worried that when he arrived he’d see your cold and lifeless body lying on the bed. When he bursts in the door to your room, ignoring the shouted protests of the medical staff, he is shocked to find you alive. Not just alive but standing up against the far wall, brandishing a pair of scissors, clutching at the pulled stitches on your side. He hears the doctor beside him muttering the words fuckin crazy.

“Who the fuck are you?” you point the scissors at him.

“I saved you,” Joel whispers, not surprised you don’t recognize him as you were basically unconscious when he rode with you into town. He points to the red drops accumulating on the floor, “that’s my blood you’re drippin’ all over the place.” He briefly recalls the argument from the doctor when he brought you in two days ago and insisted you be given his Type O blood.

He watches you look down at the blood spilling over your hand and uses the distraction to close the gap between you. Ignoring the scissors in your hand he quickly grabs some gauze and presses it against your side, hearing you gasp in surprise. 

“I want to leave,” you say through clenched teeth, raising the scissors up to his eyeline, as if he forgot they were there. You make no further move to try and hurt him, somehow confident that your feeble threat is enough. He meets your eyes, wide and wild. You’re terrified. You don’t trust him. You’re threatening him in front of four other people while you bleed onto the floor. You’re fucking fantastic. 

“Let’s get you better and then you can go wherever you want to,” he says, as he nods to the doctor to come fix you up. The doctor shakes her head, motioning towards the scissors. With no fanfare Joel grabs the scissors easily from your grip and pockets them. He ignores the hey he hears come out of your mouth and guides you back to the bed, nodding once again for the doctor to come over.

You allow the doctor to fix you up with no more threats, Joel standing close guard. About halfway through the re-stitching you wince, internally chiding yourself for showing weakness to these strangers. Joel takes your hand in his, not even making eye contact, holding it for the remainder of the procedure. Once the doctor steps away Joel squeezes your hand and looks you in the eye, telling you to get some rest before following the doctor out of your room.

“When you brought that ‘wounded little animal’ in here the other day, you didn’t warn me she bites,” the doctor mocks as she walks Joel out of the clinic.

“I told you she came down that mountain half-dead with a clicker on her heels. I guess we shoulda known she was a fighter.”

“You really gonna try and keep this one too?” 

“Why wouldn’t I?” Joel answers immediately.

Joel thinks of the look in your eye; feral, distrustful, combative. When was the last time he saw that look on the face of anyone here? He has a community of people who love and adore him, who hang on to his every word. But none of them look at him like that. You have awoken something deep inside of him, something he thought long dead: burning desire.

“If you wanna keep your little pet, Joel, I think you should be the one to take care of her. I don’t want to see any of my staff get hurt and she seemed to take to you.” The doctor knows. She knows Joel brings her wounded birds all the time and she fixes them up. A broken wing here and there, sometimes scrapes and bruises, sometimes wounds that run deeper.

However, none of them have threatened her with a weapon – until today. But she knows they all “take to” Joel. That’s the kind of person he is. Everyone in this town is drawn to him that way, even her. She knows he’ll gladly take on this responsibility and bring stability to the situation. She knows she won’t have to worry about a repeat of today. 

He nods in response and promises to stop by later as he retreats back to his house.

—

He follows through on his promise, showing up later that night and bringing a bowl of hot stew for you to eat. He sits in a chair in the corner of your room, watching you sip at it while you try to avoid awkward eye contact with him. His eyes on you make you uncomfortable. He doesn’t look at you like men usually do, with malintent. He looks at you with interest and curiosity. It makes you feel like a zoo animal. No one looks at you like that. No one ever has. 

This goes on for days. He brings you three meals a day, he hands you medication, he fills your water cup, he sits in the corner of your room and watches you. The doctor comes in to check on your wound and adjust the fluid dripping into the IV in your arm twice a day, but they are the only two who enter your room. You hear the doctor call him Joel. 

You watch him out of the corner of your eye but you don’t ever make full eye contact, you don’t ever make conversation. You aren’t looking to strike up a friendship. He said you could leave after you get better, so that’s your plan. Get better, and get the fuck out of here. Finally, on the third day he speaks to you. You drop your spoon back into your bowl because it startles you so much.

“What’s your favorite book?” he asks, unphased by the clatter of your silverware.

You’re unsure if you heard him right, but you don’t ask him to repeat himself. Instead you say the first thing that comes to mind. “To Kill a Mockingbird,” you say. A lie. You’ve never read that book in your life. You don’t owe this guy the truth. You don’t even know him, you don’t owe him a goddamn thing. He says nothing further, not acknowledging your response, so you spend the rest of your meal in silence, as usual.

You’re all but certain he didn’t hear you until he shows back up with your dinner, hours later, with a book in his hands. To Kill a Mockingbird. He brought the goddamn book? As you uncover the plate of food, he takes his usual seat in the corner, but this time he clears his throat and starts reading from the book he brought. You stop fiddling with your plate to look up at him.

You stare at him for a while, you’re not sure how long. This is the first time you’ve allowed yourself to look at him, to really look at him. He has a strong jaw, a prominent nose, and dark eyes. His trimmed facial hair is flecked with grays along his cheeks, showing his age along with the lines creasing his face. He’s probably in his forties but you can appreciate he’s still got a damn good hairline.

He’s sitting down, of course, but when he was standing you remember thinking he was decently tall, towering over everyone else you’d seen in the building. His shoulders measured about a mile wide and his clothes seemed to strain against the bulk underneath them. You’d tried to ignore the way he wore his jeans but it hadn’t completely slipped your attention. He certainly wasn’t ugly.

As he continues to read aloud, your eyes drift to his lips. His top lip is obscured by his mustache but you’re pretty sure there is a near-perfect cupid’s bow hidden underneath. His bottom lip, by contrast, is plump and pouty, although you doubt anyone has ever described it that way, at least to his face. His gruff voice continues to scuffle along in the background as you watch his lips curve around the words.

His tongue darts out to wet his lips and you realize how silent it is. He’s stopped talking. Your eyes move to his, meeting his direct gaze. Why did he stop? Did he catch you staring at him?

“You gonna let your dinner get cold?”

You turn your attention back to your meal, slowly finishing it while he reads on. He continues reading long after your plate is empty, his voice lulling you into a relaxing state in your hospital bed. When he eventually closes the book and rises to leave, you let a goodnight slip from your lips. You’ve spoken maybe five words to this guy and now you’re wishing him a goodnight? Jesus, what’s next, sweet dreams?

The next morning is a repeat of the past three days; he comes in as the doctor heads out from checking on you, speaks with her at the door, then brings your breakfast in a wrapped up parcel, still warm. He takes his usual seat but picks the book up off the floor that he’d left there the previous night. He opens it up, clears his throat, and resumes reading you the story.

He’s about an hour into reading during his afternoon visit. Your lunch is long since finished and you’re trying to make sense of it in your head. 

“I don’t understand why they call him ‘Boo’ Radley,” you interrupt. Slowly his eyes raise to meet yours over the pages. A line forms between them.

“I thought this was your favorite book.”

“It is,” you blurt out, poorly reinforcing your deception. “I just– I guess it seems like a strange nickname.”

He shrugs his shoulders then, leaning back in the chair and lowering the book. 

“Well, I suppose they call him ‘Boo’ because he’s so reclusive, almost invisible.” 

You nod your head, electing not to ask any more questions about the story since you’re pretty sure he’s caught on to your lie. After a minute he lifts the books and continues reading.

The next day shortly after you finish your lunch, he finishes the book. You try your hardest not to react. You’ve been trying your best to listen to him speaking as though you’ve heard his words before, as though everything he says is familiar, as though this tale is not new to you. You’re pretty sure you’re a shit actor.

He gets up and goes to leave the room, hours before he usually would. 

“You’re leaving?” you spit out before you can stop yourself.

“That’s the end of the book,” he holds up the book and flips it over, as if to show you it’s empty.

“Y– you don’t have any other books?” you mutter, looking down at your hands.

He crosses the room and sits on the end of your bed, holding out his hand towards you. Your eyes dart between his face and his outstretched fingers.

“I’m Joel,” he says, by way of an extremely late introduction. You gently take his hand in yours, feeling his rough, warm palms grip yours and move your arm up and down. I know, you whisper, not even sure he can hear you. You don’t bother introducing yourself in return. You don’t think it matters what your name is. 

“You ever even read this book?”

You look up and he’s wiggling the book in his hands again, as if it wasn’t obvious which book he meant. You don’t answer again, you just look back down. You’re not ashamed of lying. You’re not embarrassed you got caught lying. You don’t even know this guy, Joel. He’s just some guy who keeps you in this room all day because he apparently doesn’t want you to bleed all over everything.

“What’s your favorite book?” he asks for the second time. You open your mouth to let another lie fall out, but before you can, he follows up with, “And let’s try the truth this time.” You meet his eyes.

He should be offended by the way you look at him. You are so distrustful of him. You lied about what your favorite book was, as if it was some state secret, and here you are about to do it again. And don’t think he didn’t notice you side-stepping telling him your name. This is the fifth day he’s spent by your side and you won’t give him an inch. He’s got to find a way to crack you open. He wants you to let him in so badly. 

C’mon, he urges, reaching his hand forward to touch your leg comfortingly. You pull your leg back quickly, recoiling from his touch. His eyes go to your face again, finding it full of fear, your eyes blazing. He pulls his hands back into his own space and lifts them slightly, to show that he has no intention of putting them on you again. He mutters I’m sorry as he slowly rises and heads towards the door, certain he’s just set himself back by miles. This is turning into a real shit day.

—

When he comes back with dinner, passing by the doctor at the door, you look surprised to see him. Clearly the moment between you earlier scared you, but you don’t look scared to see him, just surprised. He’s determined to gain your trust, he’s not going to be driven away by a setback here or there. He hands you your dinner plate and then lays three books down next to you on the bed.

“Pick what you want next,” he says softly.

Ignoring your dinner you look down at the selection he’s brought. Pride and Prejudice. Little Women. Jane Eyre. You can’t help the disappointment that flies across your face. He brought you girl books. He thinks you’re just a girl who likes traditional girl books. You’ve never read any of these books and you don’t want to. You don’t care if they’re ‘classics’. You don’t care if they’re read to you in a scratchy, southern drawl. 

You shake your head and eat your meal in silence while he sits in his chair with knitted brows, rubbing his hand over his beard. After you’re done he immediately rises, takes your dirty plate and all three books into his arms, and leaves the room. You don’t try to stop him this time. 

To your surprise he returns twenty minutes later. Wordlessly he places a small bowl in front of you filled with some kind of baked apple treat. He’s never brought you dessert before. Then next to you he places three new books. You look at the three very different titles. The Chronicles of Narnia. The Count of Monte Cristo. The Hobbit. You can’t stop the smile that breaks out on your face and you bite your cheek to stop the stinging behind your eyes from turning into any embarrassing tears. 

You reach out and grab The Hobbit, holding it out to him. You don’t tell him it’s the book your dad used to read to you as a kid. You don’t tell him anything and he doesn’t ask, either. He just takes the book and sits back in his chair as he opens the cover, reading it from the beginning. He notices the smile you try to hide and the wetness in your eyes but knows better than to react. He’s gained some distance back. It’s a good day after all.

—

The next few days go by much the same, with Joel spending several hours surrounding each meal reading to you. The only difference is that he’s started asking you questions. They start off about the book. You tell him you’ve read it, and this time, it’s not a lie. You’re pretty sure he believes you. He asks if you’ve traveled as far as Bilbo has, nodding to your healing side, making reference to your ill-fated trek down the mountain.

The questions slowly become more personal; did you have any siblings, how old are you, where did you grow up. Unsure of his motives you ask him back every question he asks you, making him answer first. He says he has a younger brother, he says he just turned forty five, he says he’s from Texas. If he’s making up lies then he’s quicker and better at it then you are. You’re finding him easy to talk to, which is why you almost let it slip out when he tries to get your name again. But you hold it back. 

He sees you practically bite your tongue to stop it from rolling off. He thinks you’re starting to trust him but you still look at him warily whenever he stops to ask you a question. You don't even trust him enough to tell him your damn name yet. You seem confused why he’d want to know about you, why he’d be interested in stories that don’t involve him, why he’d want answers that don’t benefit him. It’s like no one has ever tried to get to know you before.

He’s been building this community for nearly two years now and he knew the QZ’s were getting bad. He wonders where you’ve been, what you’ve gone through; these are the questions he doesn’t dare to ask you. You are frightful and distrustful for a reason. Whatever you’ve experienced it hasn’t been kindness, not for a long while. No one has been nursing you back to health, feeding you home cooked meals while they read classic novels to you.

It’s been just over a week and the doctor finally gives you clearance to start moving around and regaining some strength, albeit slowly. Joel brings you some warm clothes and guides you out the back of the clinic, which leads to a large square park in the center of town. Despite the chill of fall, you’re eager to get better, and you revel in the opportunity to feel like your old self again. You get tired easily but Joel is always a few steps away to help you back to bed if you overexert yourself.

He leaves the book in the room but he continues on with your conversations, which have become more lengthy. Despite your reluctance to trust and his seemingly gruff nature, you find your time together has become easy, maybe even friendly. He still asks most of the questions and you still make him answer them all first. But you wonder things about him that he isn’t asking.

You know he’s in his mid-forties, but you don’t know if he’s married or if he has kids. It makes sense though, most people don’t talk about their family because people aren’t exactly living white-picket-fence lives anymore. You know he’s from Texas but you don’t know how he ended up here, in the mountains of Vermont. You don’t know why he comes to see you three times a day, why he reads to you, where he goes when he’s not with you. You don’t know what his favorite book is. You don’t know why you care.

You jokingly call yourself a Plain Jane and he perks up, chuckling while he tells you that’s your name now. Well you still haven’t told him your real name so it might as well be. When he calls you that name an hour later – Plain Jane – you feel your cheeks burn. It’s not exactly a complimentary name but the smile on his face when he calls you by it makes you look away from him. What is he doing to you?

Why does he look at you like that? You have been half-invisible most of your life and when anyone does actually give you attention it’s never been a good thing. You prefer it when they don’t look at you, when they don’t see you. But Joel has been sitting in that chair and watching you, looking at you, seeing you. He’s been asking you questions, reading to you, and bringing you meals. Yet you still don’t trust it. You don’t trust him and you don’t trust the feelings he stirs inside of you.

Joel is walking by your side during one of your afternoon walks and he tells a bad joke. He wasn’t expecting you to laugh, he’s never made you laugh. Until today. You’re not just laughing, you’re giggling, and he thinks it might be one of the best sounds he’s ever heard. It makes him feel as light as air. You grab his arm as you double over, losing yourself in the laughter. 

This is the first time you’ve ever touched him aside from your hands grazing when he hands you your meals. Not that those count, he doesn’t even count those. He shouldn’t even notice when it happens, yet he does. It’s like you have his insides twisted up and his head all fuzzy but somehow he feels like himself for the first time in nearly a decade.

He has been ignoring responsibilities for over a week now, sneaking away three times a day to spend hours with you. He rushes out of the house with breakfast in his hands, opting to eat it with you instead. His afternoon and evening meetings all get pushed back, until he’s left your side and can make time. No one questions him but he knows Tess is starting to get annoyed with him. She doesn’t approve of his behavior, his attention so focused on one person. She hasn’t said anything yet but she has that look.

It’s easy to be with you. It was easy in your room, even when you weren’t talking to him yet. He could sit there in the corner in silence and just be, without anyone asking him anything. Then when you finally spoke to him he couldn’t wait to hear more. He asks stupid, pointless questions all day just to hear you answer them. He has to be more guarded when you’re outside together, everyone is watching. 

They’re all watching him, watching you, wondering why he’s spending all of his time with you when he used to spread himself around to the whole community. But the answer is easy. You don’t look at him the way they do. You don’t have their expectations of him. You don’t think he’s got all the answers. You don’t stand around waiting for him to save you.

–

When it’s been almost two weeks since you came under the doctor’s care she tells you that she thinks you’re well enough to leave the clinic. “Where do I go?” you ask her before you can stop yourself. She lets a huff escape her lips, but before she can reply, you both notice Joel standing in the doorway. You see a look of panic cross her face and you don’t miss the way she dodges his hand grabbing for her arm as she slips out the door past him.

He turns back to you and you notice he has three new books tucked under his arm. He’d finished The Hobbit, The Count of Monte Cristo, and The Chronicles of Narnia this past week. Part of you wonders what selection he’s brought for you this time. You still haven’t told him your favorite. Now you’re not sure you ever will. The doctor said you’re well enough to leave, and that’s what you wanted to do. Leave. Right?

You look up at Joel and just as he opens his mouth to speak you hear the main door open behind him and a commotion of conversation coming through the door. You hear someone say, “fell off a ladder” and Joel’s attention is diverted down the hallway behind him. Suddenly a woman is at his side. She’s tall, with long chestnut hair and freckles that dot her cheeks and nose. She’s gorgeous.

You instantly feel like you’re one foot tall. You feel inferior. You feel like you’re staring at a marble sculpture. This woman is beautiful and she’s standing so close to Joel. He’s listening to her talk and nodding and he’s not even looking at you anymore. He probably forgot you were even there; look at this goddess in front of him. She stops talking and looks at you, pinning you with her stare. You freeze.

“Hi, I’m Tess,” she reaches out her hand to you, closing the distance between you since you’re stuck to your spot. “You must be the reason I never see this guy anymore,” she teases. You think she’s teasing.

“I was just about to invite PJ to come stay with us,” Joel clears his throat behind her, using his newest version of your nickname – Plain Jane. You look at him, eyes bulging out of your head. He was going to what? Stay with him? Who is us?

“Oh, you were?” she says, as if reading your mind. She’s still gently shaking your hand, regarding you with a curious eye.

“Yeah, we’ve got the room,” he says casually, flashing you a smile. Tess says nothing. You look back and forth between them. They’re both looking at you, waiting for you to speak. 

“S– stay?” you manage to squeak at him. Does that even begin to cover the questions you have?

“Just until you’re feeling a hundred percent,” he says, gesturing to your nearly-healed side.

Now Tess drops your hand and turns back to look at Joel. You can’t quite read her expression. He doesn’t meet her eyes, he keeps them locked on you. He walks over to you and hands you the three books, placing your small breakfast plate on the top of the stack.

“Pick which one we should read next and Tess’ll come by after lunchtime to bring you home.” Without waiting for a response he grabs Tess by the shoulders and leads her out of the room.

“Since when do we ‘have the room’, Joel?” she questions as soon as they spill out onto the front sidewalk of the clinic.

“You can put her in the room next to mine,” he replies, taking strides so long that she has to hustle to keep up.

“My room is the room next to yours,” she mutters. He stops dead in his tracks, causing her boots to scuffle on the sidewalk to stop from crashing into him.

“Well obviously I didn’t fuckin’ mean your room. She can have Bianca’s room,” Joel huffs as he walks on.

“So, across the hall from your room?” He stops again and this time she does crash into him. He grabs her shoulders, pulling her even tighter to him and brings his head down to her ear.

“You’re supposed to be the one who worries about all this shit for me, so just figure it out, okay Tess?”

She stays standing in place while he resumes his walk back home. She doesn’t bother answering him since she knows his question was rhetorical. Tess did agree to manage his house. However, that was before she realized that he was going to be bringing little lost pets in and out of it all the time. She always knew their relationship was transactional. It served a purpose, it fulfilled their needs, but it was never loving. 

When they agreed to start this community, she thought they’d do it together. He convinced her that he needed her help, and he did – he still does – there’s no way he could do this without her. He never wanted to manage the details. But she thought she’d be his partner, in the community even if not in life. Instead she finds herself at his mercy. She also finds herself not disliking it as much as she should. She lets herself get lost in him, lost in what they’ve created here in this valley.

She plays the role of his partner, but only behind the scenes. She plays his girlfriend, but only when he’s not otherwise occupied. She’s his friend, but only if he’s feeling in need of comfort. She’s mother to his children, but only the broken little birds he brings home to their doorstep. She does all of the work, but reaps none of the rewards. And yet, she lives a safe, comfortable life. She can’t help but feel grateful to him. In a lot of ways she still feels like he saved her. She was once a broken little bird herself.

After lunch she comes back to the clinic and finds you sitting on the edge of your bed, as if you’ve been waiting there all morning. You probably were. She fights the urge to ask if you have everything, reminding herself that you had no possessions save for the bloody clothes they found you in. Let’s go, is all she says, and you follow her out of the clinic in silence, nodding a goodbye to the doctor as you exit. 

“Are you Joel’s wife?” you ask as you walk side-by-side, mustering up courage from god-knows-where.

“Joel doesn’t have a wife.”

🖤

NEXT

Thank you endlessly to @papipascalispunk for helping me with this series and listening to me rant about Cult Leader Joel. 🫂 I appreciate you SO much. Thank you to @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin and @strang3lov3 for your support and help creating this world. 🫶

TAGLIST (lmk if you wanna be added or removed) @covetyou @iamasaddie @sr-lrn @clawdee @theywhowriteandknowthings @beefrobeefcal @merz-8 @speckledemerald @alltheseperfectimperfections @survivingandenduring @afraidtofear @millennial-teenybopper

[jiwon1es]

I see Yujin taking such good care of kids like I imagine her getting along so well with your neice or nephew or smth like that🥺 She would also be an amazing mom and a great gf to reader who alr has a kid 😔 I jst love her sm 😔🤭

- I wanna be your 🐸 anon

pairing: wife!yujin x fem!reader

genre: fluff

hi 🐸 anon! i changed a little bit, hope that's okay! i hope you like this, this was really really cute.

yujin has the kindest heart of all, it was no surprise. everyone gets dragged in to her, her beautiful energy being so contagious that no matter where you are you just want to be near her and that was one of the things that got you head over heels for her, even starting to think if it’s really possible for someone like her to exist. she was so charismatic, even your family was enchanted! always asking questions like “when does she come back?”, “is she staying?”, “how is yujin doing?”. it was inevitable to think about a future with her. she was so nice to everyone, and everything took a turn the moment you saw her playing with your little cousins at a family dinner. she kept her brightest smile on her face while hearing the little kids laugh so hard at her jokes. maybe it was too soon to be picturing her with the kids of your own, but how could you not?

“she is so pretty! can she be my girlfriend too?” the little kid asked with anticipation at you. everyone was laughing at him.

“absolutely not! she’s yn’s!” his twin defended your girlfriend, hugging her tightly and making sure her brother won’t get closer.

“how come you be so patient with them? i barely can do it myself.” you ask, staring at the girls hugging with adoration.

“i don’t know, they’re just so cute and remind me of you.” you giggle, grabbing the glass of water in front of you and drinking. “who knows, maybe years later you will be carrying little ahn.” and you choked.

at your 19, talking about a family or even a future together was a big topic. both of you were still so young and you never liked to think about the future without feeling empty or scared at the road ahead, but somehow… being right by her side made everything look nice, no longer feeling worried or lost. so, it was still crazy to even imagine it, but it wasn’t that bad. you were actually dying for the day you could call ahn yujin your wife.

then, it happens. your eyes can’t leave the view in front of them and you can’t stop thinking about how did all of that happen. the litte girl’s laughter is filling your ears like a melodic song, praying for your wife’s hands to stop tickling her.

“mommy! please help me!” she calls you, laughing and trying to escape from the embrace.

“if mommy ever dares to help you… she’s gonna fall too!” and your daughter screams.

“how can this monster go away?” you ask, pretending to be worried. you see how they stop fighting, both of them waiting for you to jump in.

“kisses!” your daughter yells.

“yeah kisses!” yujin supports your daughter’s decision. of course your wife would never stop being a cute puppy totally in love with you, desperate for your love and affection.

“is that so?” you cross your arms, genuinely curious about what can set your daughter free. you step closer and yujin caught once again the little girl in her arms.

“kiss her!”

yujin was happily waiting for the kiss, with her eyes closed and trying not to smile. then, you place your hands on her face, pulling her in for the kiss. a squeak can be heard from the little girl that is now jumping excited at the sight of her two moms kissing. now she is free to go, but decides to stay and try to separate the two of you.

“mommy! what if she traps you?” yujin laughs, because that’s exactly what she wants to do.

[palioom]

snow angels

summary: who knew that clearing the driveway of fresh snow could be fun?

pairing: dave york x f!reader

word count: 1.8k

warnings: 18+ content; no use of y/n; public/semi-public sex; fingering; leg humping; established relationship

a/n: follow @palioomfics for updates // banners by @saradika

• masterlist •

Winter wonderland.

It was the only way to describe what it looked like outside, their yard and driveway and everything beyond covered in several inches of snow. Looking too perfect almost, fluffy and a brilliant white.

Their kids were still asleep when she went outside with Dave to try and at least clear the driveway a little. He had insisted on doing it alone, ever the gentleman and insisting she stay inside with a hot cocoa, that she could watch him as he worked. But she liked doing this with him, shovelling snow onto the sides so there was a way to their front door.

He would be inside much quicker too, so they could cozy up on the sofa in the living room before the girls would inevitably drag them outside to play.

It was fun, too, in a way. At least once she was halfway done with her side, ignoring her cold, aching fingers inside of her thick gloves. She decided to pick up some snow, forming it into a ball before throwing it at him. The snowball hit Dave square in the back, leaving a white patch and she giggled. Dave turned around to her, his eyebrow raised but the smallest tug of a smile on the corner of his lips.

“It wasn’t me.” She laughed, breath coming out in white clouds, wafting up into the crisp December air.

Putting on her most innocent pout and look, Dave was almost willing to believe her, but he could see right through, noticing the sparkle in her eyes.

He laughed when he turned back around, continuing to shovel snow out of the way. “Oh, of course, honey. It just fell from the sky.”

“That’s what snow usually does, yeah.”

Shaking his head with a small chuckle, they continued, until another snowball hit him, this time right between the shoulder blades. It didn’t hurt, but some of the snow splattered and fell right into the small space between his thick jacket and the fluffy scarf around his neck.

When he turned, he found her still shovelling snow, humming along to some song, clearly trying to look busy. He could see the cheek of her apple from how hard she was smiling, knowing she was holding back her laugh.

And she looked more than adorable as she whistled, not noticing that Dave was putting down his own shovel in favour of picking up some of the fresh, powdery snow. Slowly and quietly he made his way over to her, hoping the snow wouldn’t crunch under his feet as he walked, the smile widening on his face the closer he got to her.

Just as she was about to turn around to him, Dave covered her face with the icy snow, rubbing his hand over her face to really rub it all in while a high-pitched sound escaped her, a cross between a laugh and a scream. His free arm wrapped around her middle, pulling her back into his strong chest, laughing with her as she struggled to get away from him.

“Babe, stop!” She gasped, still laughing as she fought against his tight grip. All of her tiredness was definitely gone now, the snow waking her up as it stung in her face. Some of it dropped into the front of her jacket, melting on her heated skin and leaving an icy trail behind. “Dave!”

“So you can throw more snowballs at me, sweetpea?” Dave laughed, sliding around a little on the icy ground below them, finally wrapping both arms around her middle to keep her crushed against him.

He liked this, liked the small moments before he had to leave again and travel around for his jobs.

Turning her around in his arms while still maintaining his grip on her, he pressed his lips against hers. They were icy and wet from the snow and she gasped into his mouth, forgetting her fight for just a moment. Chasing the warmth of his lips as he pulled back, then trying to free herself.

“Let me go!” She giggled, her feet slippery on the ground. “You’re paying for th-”

Before she could finish her sentence, her feet slipped from underneath her body, falling right into the pile of snow behind her and taking Dave down as well with how tightly she gripped his jacket. He was heavy on top of her, and for a moment they both went quiet, Dave’s eyes wide as he looked down into her face.

Then, they both broke into loud laughter, first her and then him as well.

“You alright, honey?” He asked, his gloved hand coming up to brush some hair and snow from her face. Still looking for any sign she had hurt herself while falling and ignoring the own pain that bloomed in his knees.

“Mhmm.” She hummed while nodding, a big smirk breaking on her face.

Before Dave knew it, his face was covered in snow as well, all while she laughed heartily, trapped below his broad body.

“Mrs. York is a feisty one today.” He commented, pinning her wrists into the snow, lips slotting over hers again.

The cold was biting at them, especially now laying in the snow, but the kiss was warming them right back up again, growing more passionate as they continued. Blood boiling hot, Dave’s knee, which rested between her legs, brushed up against her heated core, making her moan softly.

It was like a switch had been flipped, their task forgotten as Dave felt his dick twitch in his pants, his kisses more demanding, his knee pressing against her again. He loved those moans, and right now he really wanted to hear more of them, letting go of one of her wrists to pull his glove off with his teeth.

Her eyes followed his hand as he let it vanish between them, his thick fingers swiftly finding a way into the front of her pants. They were icy as one slipped between her already wet folds, nudging against her clit and making her moan louder.

“Babe, the kids, the neighbours-” She whispered urgently, hoping no one could see what they were doing with how they were laying. The small pile of snow obstructed some of the view, and their car might spare them the glances of their neighbours from across the street. “What if they- oh, fuck.”

Dave only smirked, the thrill of possibly being seen by their neighbours making this so much more exciting as he pressed his finger down harder on the small bundle of nerves.

“No one’s gonna see.” He hushed, then pressed his lips against hers, tongue slipping into her mouth when another small noise left her.

The icy temperature of his finger in contrast to his warm mouth helped to build her up swiftly, Dave’s own hips rutting against her thigh – the hard bulge able to be felt even through her thick pants.

“Dave-” His name came out in a weak whine, his fingers finding her dripping entrance and teasingly pressing against it. The cold was nearly gone at this point, the heat of her pussy warming his hand right back up.

A damn shame, because she already missed the sensation of them, wondering what it would feel like when he pressed inside of her aching, wet hole.

Maybe this was something they could explore. In a different setting, of course.

“I know, sweetpea.” He replied, his fingers pressing into her, groaning at how tightly she gripped him. Unable to stop his own hips from rutting against her leg, a moan escaped him, muffled against the corner of her mouth.

He’d much prefer to be inside her wet pussy that was currently dripping all over his thick fingers as he thrust into her, but if humping against her leg was all he could get right now, he would.

The heel of his palm perfectly pushed against her clit as he pumped his fingers faster, scissoring and curling them inside of her. Her gloved fingers curled into his thick jacket, her moans muffled still.

From inside the house she was sure she could hear their girls, excitedly screaming about the snow, then the loud thudding of little feet on the stairs.

“Dave-” She whined again, her eyes wide as she looked at him, suddenly torn between needing him to get her off and needing him to stop entirely before the girls saw them. “Oh, fuck-”

The coldness didn’t even bother her anymore, too damn hot in these thick clothes that she just wanted to rip them off, every press of his fingers against that sweet spot making it worse. All while his hard cock brushed over her thigh again and again, Dave’s movements speeding up.

His eyes were on the door of their house, his laboured breaths forming white clouds in the chilly air. So damn close to spilling himself in his snow pants, grinding down harder against her while his fingers worked faster.

“C’mon, honey.” He whispered, his dark eyes darting down to hers again, taking in the thin layer of sweat and her knitted eyebrows. “I can feel her gripping me, cum on my fingers, honey.”

Grinding the heel of his palm into her clit harder, she clamped down around his thick fingers, the moans that left her mouth so loud that he had to shut her up with his own. His hips stuttered against her leg, his cum wetting Dave’s underwear as he came with a low grunt.

Somehow knowing that her husband couldn’t wait and humped her leg only made this hotter, breathing heavily when he parted from her and whining at the loss of his fingers.

Dave pulled back just in time, their daughters opening the door and running out with loud giggles. Barely dressed appropriately for the weather and stopping when they saw their parents still laying in the snow.

“Mom, dad! We were looking for you!” Their younger daughter yelled, hopping down the stairs and landing in the fluffy snow. “What are you doing?”

Dave chuckled, moving to help his wife up with a smile.

“We were just having some fun of our own, sweetie.” He said, patting off his own clothes, then giving his wife a look which made her laugh. “Making snow angels.”

Walking over to the kids, he picked up their younger daughter, ready to carry her back inside again. They both were missing their scarves and knowing them, they only threw on their jackets over their pyjamas.

“Now let’s get you two monsters dressed so you can play, too.”

She just looked after them for a moment, watching Dave ruffle the hair of the older girl who was reluctantly going back inside with him.

Looking down, she felt hot again as she saw the imprint they had both made in the snow, the driveway still halfway covered with it.

Snow angels.

That must have been the most enjoyable way to make them, and she couldn’t wait to make more of these specific ones some other time.

[geotjwrs]

Can u do a Jenna Ortega x Male reader singer (Maybe music from Frank ocean or Tyler?🤷🏾‍♂️)

ivy

Pairings ; Jenna Ortega x Male!Reader

Warning/s ; angsty

Note ; hello everyone since i'm getting a lot of requests lately, i just want to clear to you that i'm slowing down the updates first since i can't think that many of the scenarios i'm mostly receiving smut requests and i'm having a hard time to write some so i hope you understand. please don't rush me with your requests I'll update as soon as possible if i have plenty of time to write tysm!

The city lights of Los Angeles twinkled below as Jenna Ortega stood on the balcony of her apartment, the cool night air doing little to soothe her frayed nerves. Inside, Y/N paced back and forth, frustration etched on his face. They had been arguing for what felt like hours, their once warm and loving home now filled with tension.

“Jenna, you know I have to go on tour. This is my career we’re talking about!” Y/N’s voice was strained, his hands running through his hair in exasperation.

“And what about us?” Jenna shot back, her eyes brimming with unshed tears. “You’re always on the road, always busy. When do we get time for us?”

Y/N stopped pacing and faced her, his expression softening for a moment. “I love you, Jenna. But I can’t just give up on my dreams. You knew this was part of the deal when we started dating.”

Jenna’s shoulders sagged, the fight draining out of her. “I know, but it feels like I’m losing you to your career. We barely see each other anymore.”

Y/N stepped closer, reaching out to touch her arm. “I’m trying, Jenna. But it’s hard to balance everything.”

She pulled away, shaking her head. “Maybe it’s not meant to be. Maybe we’re just too different.”

The words hung in the air, heavy and final. Y/N’s face fell, and he knew deep down that she was right. They had grown apart, their lives pulling them in different directions. The realization was painful, but it was the truth.

“Is this it, then?” he asked quietly, his voice barely above a whisper.

Jenna looked away, unable to meet his eyes. “I think it has to be. For both our sakes.”

The silence that followed was deafening. Y/N nodded slowly, accepting the inevitable. He walked past her, pausing at the door. “I’ll always love you, Jenna. But maybe we need to let go to find ourselves again.”

Jenna closed her eyes, tears streaming down her cheeks. “I love you too, Y/N. Goodbye.”

With that, he left, closing the door softly behind him. Jenna sank to the floor, her heart breaking as the reality of their breakup set in. The apartment felt emptier than ever, the echoes of their love lingering like ghosts.

Months passed, and life moved on. Jenna threw herself into her work, trying to fill the void Y/N had left. But no matter how busy she kept herself, she couldn’t escape the memories of their time together. She missed him terribly, but she knew they had made the right decision.

One night, while scrolling through her phone, Jenna came across a notification for Y/N’s upcoming concert. Despite everything, she couldn’t resist tuning in. The livestream showed a packed venue, the crowd buzzing with excitement as Y/N took the stage.

“Good evening, everyone,” Y/N’s voice echoed through the speakers. “Tonight, I have something special to share with you. This is a new song I wrote called ‘Ivy.’ It’s about someone who was very important to me, someone I loved deeply.”

Jenna’s heart clenched as she listened. She knew this song was about their relationship, about the love and heartbreak they had experienced. Y/N began to play, the soft, haunting melody filling the room. His voice, rich and emotional, carried the weight of their shared history.

I thought that I was dreaming when you said you loved me the start of nothing, I had no chance to prepare I couldn’t see you coming…

Flashback

It had been a particularly difficult day on set for Jenna. She was exhausted, emotionally drained from the intense scenes she’d filmed. She came home hoping to find solace in Y/N’s arms, but he was busy with his own work, preparing for his upcoming tour.

“Y/N, I really need to talk to you,” Jenna said, her voice weary as she leaned against the kitchen counter.

He looked up from his laptop, concern flickering in his eyes. “What’s wrong, Jenna?”

She sighed, running a hand through her hair. “It’s just… everything feels overwhelming. I feel like I’m constantly juggling my career and our relationship, and I’m not sure if I’m doing a good job at either.”

Y/N got up and walked over to her, wrapping his arms around her in a comforting embrace. “I know it’s hard, Jenna. But we’re in this together. We’ll figure it out.”

Jenna buried her face in his chest, trying to draw strength from his presence. But even as he held her, she couldn’t shake the feeling of loneliness that had been creeping in. “Do you really believe that? Because sometimes it feels like we’re drifting apart.”

He pulled back slightly, looking into her eyes. “Jenna, I love you. But we both have demanding careers. We knew it wouldn’t be easy.”

Flashback ended

Jenna found herself back in her apartment, tears streaming down her face. The song continued, Y/N’s voice filled with raw emotion as he sang about the love they had lost:

We’ll never be those kids again the streetlights in the middle of your back I wish I could go back to when I was just a boy staring at my bedroom ceiling

The chorus hit harder, a reminder of the love they had shared and lost. Jenna’s tears flowed freely, the song cutting deep into her soul.

Ivy’s in my life until the end of time it's part of the plan to just keep me by your side

The audience was captivated, many moved to tears by the raw vulnerability of the performance. Y/N poured his heart out, every word a testament to the love he had lost.

As the song ended, Y/N looked out into the crowd, his expression a mix of sadness and acceptance. “Thank you,” he said, his voice trembling. “This song means a lot to me, and I’m grateful to have been able to share it with you tonight.”

Jenna closed her laptop, her heart heavy yet oddly at peace. She knew that both she and Y/N would always carry a piece of each other, no matter where life took them. Their love story, though brief, had left an indelible mark on their souls.

[yslende]

cabin 16 ー children of nemesis headcanons

| author's note: yeah i only really made this because i figured out that nemesis would be my godly parent. quite a few of these are based on me. probably not going to do any more of these, if only because i'd be unable to emulate this amount of detail again.

vindictive. do i even need to say it.

ambidextrous. the lot of them.

all of them have stares that seem like they look right through you. 

insane resting bitch and poker faces. nothing shows unless they explicitly let it.

⬆️ however, any emotion they feel, they feel it STRONGLY. happiness? more like euphoria. sadness? more like depression. annoyance? more like fury. (the furies *wish* they had what nemesis kids do.)

they're the type of people to be fashionable by default because all they wear is black, red, and Leather Jacket (which is a color in itself.)

⬆️ despite this, they don't mind the camp shirts, if only because everyone else is wearing them.

three options: read rulebooks for fun, be the reason rules are created, or both. 

they treat death like a trip to the dentist: an unpleasant inevitability. 

unshakeable loyalty. once you've got a nemesis demigod on your side, they'll follow you to tartarus and back.

⬆️ likewise, if you harm them or their friends, there is nothing they won't do to get back at you. nothing is beneath them. be terrified.

natural skeptics. nemesis is a daughter of nyx, so some of her kids have likely been to the underworld. they've met shades. even so, they'll passionately argue against the existence of ghosts.

weirdly good memory. of course, they remember every insult said about them, but they also remember how many arrows you shot into the woods at archery practice last tuesday. especially good with remembering strings of letters or numbers.

⬆️ they're some of the few demigods that can do math. they do it for fun, that's how bad it is.

really good at strategy, but often people don't go along with their plans. see: nothing is beneath them.

geese fucking love them. a common sight at chb is watching geese try and bite everyone's faces off, then trip over themselves to be pet like drugged cats by the nemesis cabin.

all super good at board games, especially chess, settlers of catan, and monopoly. uno skills are 50/50.

they're the type of people to save every deus ex machina item in a video game for later, and then proceed to never use them.

great sense of balance. they're great at tightropes, and can do triple pirouettes (a type of turn in ballet) easily. they like perching in trees and watching during capture the flag if they're not fighting.

if you're unwilling to debate or close-minded, be prepared to find spiders in your underwear. *especially* if you're an athena kid.

⬆️ probably have a tarantula as a cabin pet, named 'houdini,' because he keeps ""escaping"" to the athena cabin. it's super unfortunate like that.

⬆️ they also probably have a favorite wild goose, too. 

there are no extroverted nemesis demigods. if one seems like an extrovert, they're either in denial or masking super hard.

they're the type of people to do all of the group project work alone. they have no patience for anyone who can't pull their weight.

each have their own methods of organization. if you touch their stuff you will die. they always know.

can't sleep without the ends of their blankets tucked underneath the mattress and the sides perfectly even. it just feels off to them.

socialism. communism. literally anything except pro-capitalist. look at me in my face and tell me i'm wrong.

optimistic pessimism? very 'the glass is half-empty, but at least there's something in there' vibes.

about as blunt as a club. if you want the brutal truth, ask a nemesis kid about your swordsmanship. you'll come out crying.

they take things very literally. jokes often fly over their head, but they catch sarcasm and veiled insults faster than hermes runs. 

always take things seriously. even things that aren't supposed to be taken seriously. like 'packing rocks in snowballs' seriously.

all of them despise bullies with all of their being. there isn't a nemesis demigod who won't introduce their knee to a bully's crotch for fun. hades, they'll *pay* you to let them do it.

their fighting skills and athleticism increase when serving justice, revenge, or vengeance. like normally, they're really good, but then someone steals their marshmallow or something and then they get REALLY good.

like to put extra effort into scaring and prank new campers before being nice to them. trial by fire, i guess.

however, after the inital hazing, they protect unclaimed kids with their lives. again, see: nothing is beneath them.

want to know everything, including but not limited to why you didn't put any grapes on your plate to every single reason why your godly parent acts the way they do towards you. once again, see: nothing is beneath them.

fight best with either a sword or a shield, but they're especially good with both. 

(sidenote: their favorite swords would probably be executioners' swords, which imo are super fucking cool. their favorite shields would probably be aspis (roman: clipeus) but specifically the ones with faces or figures carved in them.)

nemesis isn't a super caring mother tbh. she punishes her children mercilessly if they do something wrong or malicious. however, likewise, she praises them lavishly whenever they complete a quest or do something that demonstrates the power of cabin 16.

⬆️ her kids either have huge problems with authority or zero problems with authority. most swing wildly between the two, but that's what balance means, right?

friends with cabins: 1, 5, 8, 13, 15, 20

chill with cabins: 3, 9, 12, 14, 17, 19

does not get along with cabins: 4, 6, 7, 10, 11, 18

[kimbureh]

Guidance vs Leadership, and why Crosshair is a Dad now (cuz he's not a Soldier anymore)

let's talk about Crosshair and Omega seeing eye to eye, forming a relationship beyond militarism and Crosshair being a better father than Hunter (oh noo, whoopsie).

In S03 E03 of TBB, Omega is in charge of the first part of their escape because knowing her way around in the facility is *her* expertise. Once they are outside and have to resort to violence, Crosshair is taking over cuz fighting is *his* expertise. First, Crosshair follows Omega's lead, then Omega follows Crosshair's lead; they are able to pass the torch of leadership between each other seamlessly because there is no hierarchy separating them. The way they acknowledge each other's skills shows that they don't see "leader" as something that you *are* but something that you *do*. "Leader" is not an immutable identity that you're assigned (or assign yourself), but an action that anybody who has the needed expertise can perform.

Hunter is a leader not because his actions justify this role, but because he sees it as his identity. (I've talked about Hunter & Leadership before). Now, if you self-identify as a leader, you inevitably establish a hierarchy. Leadership draws a line between the leader and those who follow. All of the Batchers still cling to military hierachy even though there is no external need; they could self-organize their group differently, but they don't cuz old habits die hard and the galaxy has changed so drastically, they cling to the familiar. (more on leaderhip here and here).

Crosshair manages to do what Hunter didn't so far: Crosshair follows Omega's lead not because she's his commander (or because she begs like a child), but because she has the needed knowledge to guide them. Once Omega is out of her depth, Crosshair takes over. As an adult, he has more knowledge about the (literal) outside world, as shown in details like him tracking the flight path of the shuttle.

At this point, I think Crosshair is one step ahead of Hunter in his arc. They both start at diametrically opposed extremes of the same spectrum. Hunter is willing to form a family, Crosshair rejects this idea. Hunter trusts Omega very fast, Crosshair trusts Omega very slowly. These characteristics also become their "tragic flaws" that heros of a story often have. Hunter is *too* willing to accept Omega as family, he even sacrifices one of his teammates for it. Crosshair is *too* reluctant to trust anybody, his isolation makes him vulnerable towards the Empire's ideology. They both have to meet in the middle and solve the Hedgehog's Dilemma in order to become a family.

In order to do that, the squad of soldiers has to evolve into a group of people connected by love, not duty. Crosshair took that step in a leap in S03E03, Hunter got a taste of it in S03E02 when he tried to steer the young cadets away from militarism towards something new.

[read all my TBB meta here]

[blinkvlink]

things i predict will happen in the upcoming books

• the detective will be cage-gassed. (it's physical also i doubt that it's magic so it would work on them)

• Tina/Verda will get kidnapped if they know.

• N will go into the berserk state and hurt detective (im willing to bet my money on that this is book 5 stuff)

• A and M relationship inevitably begins at the end of book 4

• The mayor learns/ already knows the stunt Rebecca has been pulling (Book 4 since Sera has been saying he will have an intense role in book 4)

• Douglas will go rogue if you are hard on him enough

• Aunt big baddie reveal either at the end of book 4 or in the middle of book 5

• book 6 has no direct villain and is more so focused on picking up the pieces of whatever the fuck is gonna happen in book 5

• murphy will come back by attacking the detective if he escaped in the first book

• book 7 is like an endgame event where everyone the detective won over as allies (maa-luse, sin etc) comes back to fight the supernatural rogues.

• rook will make an appearence one way or another.

• rebecca will not die but will get very hurt (book 5)

• F will get kidnapped in book 5 (there is this ask where someone asks sera what would each UB member would tell to past version of themselves about their romance with the detective and F says 'They came for you')

• Drinking the detective's blood thing will happen as a last resort after the LI takes a mortal wound from the aunt big baddie. (book 5)

• If your relationship with bobby is good, A's route will use this factor the most and the detective will have the choice to get closer with Bobby while A foams at the mouth in the background.

• M's crystal is going to be broken by a villain (maybe book 5) and theu will go delulu for a while as they regain their memories.

• Douglas will hurt the mayor bad in an argument they have if he is a supernatura

• If Auntie exists, her name will be either choosable or just the whitest name you can imagine

• ending of the LT (who you will be sticking permanently with will be at the end of book 4 OR towards the end of book 5

•In book 5, LT, A's and M's routes will take a back seat when it comes to angst while F and N's will get worse.

• Alima (the girl thats in love with M) will come up to the detective and be like 'leave them while you can before they hurt you' ORRR 'whats so special about you? why didn't they want me but they want you?' OR BOTH before M shows up and goes 'go the fuck away' and has a fight with her.

• A's love confession will be right before the offical relationship starts. So like they will go 'I LOVE YOU!!!' and then, like maybe a few chapters later or right after it will be offical

this is it for now. i will add as i come up with more.

[mandos-mind-trick]

Instinct - Part 12

Summary: Omegas were rare. Some even thought them extinct. So when Boba contacts Din saying he has a gift Din can’t refuse, the last thing he expects to find is an omega in need of an alpha. Din has to make the hard decision, but what else was he really doing anyways? But naturally, there’s more to this omega than meets the eye.

Pairing: Din Djarin x reader

Warnings: NSFW, smut, fluff, A/B/O, brief mention of injuries, unplanned pregnancy, brief discussion of abortion (more implied than an actual discussion), so much softness omg

A/N: It's hard to believe this story is over. It's been fun writing it and I'm kind of sad that it's over. I wound up going a different direction with the story than I originally planned. I'm a little bummed that I didn't go with the original idea but it would have been more complex and taken a lot longer to get to inevitably the same ending. I think I'm just ready to finish this one up and let it lie with this ending.

Thank you to all of my readers, I'm so grateful that all of you took the time to read and enjoy this story. Here's to whatever comes next!

< Previous | MASTERLIST | OC Version

You stare out at the flickering blue of hyperspace. You’re tired. Your heat has taken its toll on you. You’re still achy, your inner thighs raw from Din’s stubble. You had left not long after your heat ended, Din getting a comm message from Karga about the location of some of the targets, and the bounty on their heads. 

Din wanted to get things taken care of before they disappeared again, or someone else found them. He had packed things up, hauling their belongings and you, still half asleep onto the Crest before leaving the planet. 

Three of them. One more and you’d be on their way to Navarro. 

It wasn’t like you necessarily needed the credits. Boba could easily send more, and would if you asked. Din wanted to do things his way, though. The dumb alpha instinct to prove their worth, to prove they could properly care for a mate, for a family. 

You curl up in your seat, tucking your knees to your chest. Din had proven himself time and time again to more, more than he needed to. You won’t change his mind, though. He was determined to see this through. You’re saving others from what you went through. That’s what you tell yourself. It’s not all about revenge. It would be impossible, now that you know the truth. Now that you remember. 

A shiver runs down your spine as memories run through your head. What happened to the others? Had any of them escaped? Or had you been lucky to survive, to be taken by the pirates and saved from a worse fate? 

You don't want to think about it anymore. You screw your eyes shut, focusing on the scent of your alpha heavy in the air, letting it relax you. He smells musky, both of you still recovering from your heat. From what you can remember, it had been an intense one. More intense than your last. Perhaps the suppressants were finally completely out of your system. Or maybe it was just your body’s reaction to going years without a heat. 

You can still feel the lingering effects of it. Your brain feels fuzzy still, your body warm. Everything is louder, stronger, more amplified. You want to crawl into Din’s lap and sink right under his armor into his skin. 

If only that were possible. 

***

You wake when the ship lands. It startles you for a moment before you’re able to get your bearings. You rub your eyes, Din running a hand over your head before leaving the cockpit. You let your brain wake up more before you follow him, dropping into the hull. 

“Stay with the ship.” Din says, loading the last of his weapons. “This won’t take long.” 

You grab his arm before he can walk away, turning him to face you. You reach up, lifting his helmet just enough to reveal his mouth. You stand on your toes, pressing your lips to his. His hands grab your waist, holding you steady as you kiss him. Your brain feels fuzzy, still fighting the lingering buzz from your heat. 

“As soon as I get this done,” Din murmurs against your lips, squeezing your sides. “I’ll come back and help you.” 

You let out a quiet whine, but relent, letting him go. You watch him leave the ship, the ramp closing behind him. You crawl into the nest, burrowing yourself in Din’s scent to wait for his return. 

It only takes two hours before the ramp is lowering once more, Din leading someone into the ship. You lay still, buried beneath the blankets out of sight. You hear the familiar rush of air from the carbonite chamber before footsteps approach. You don't move, don't reveal yourself, but you don't have to. The blankets shift slightly, a gloved hand reaching beneath them. You lean into his touch, keening quietly. Your underwear is soaked through, your mind racing nonstop in his absence. 

The cool air of the Crest hits your skin as the blankets are tossed off, your body rolling to present for him. His hand presses into your back, holding you flat against the floor. You buck your hips, desperate for any sort of friction, any contact to alleviate the need rushing through you.

Gloved hands slip under the waistband of your pants and underwear, tugging both down just far enough. Din inhales deeply, groaning at the scent of you heavy in the air. 

“Could smell you outside the ship.” He growls, pressing his body flat against yours. 

You keens, bucking your hips up to grind against his hard length. He reaches between them, guiding his cock into your slick folds. You gasp at the stretch, back arching to take him deeper. 

“Stinking up the ship with that needy pussy.” He growls, a hand tangling in your hair to tilt your head and reveal your neck. “All for me, huh?” 

“Yes, alpha!” You whine as he pulls back before slamming his hips against your ass. “Need you. Need you so bad.” 

He shushes you, lips tracing your neck. “I’ve got you, omega. Let your alpha take care of you.” 

You practically sob as he begins thrusting into you, his movements slow and deep. Your clit drags along the blanket under you, making you dizzy with pleasure. His lips close around your mark, fingers tangling with yours to hold you steady as he fucks you. You’re loud, keening and whining and moaning under him as he fucks you through your first orgasm. He doesn’t slow any, keeping his pace steady. 

“Alpha, alpha!” You chant his title like a prayer, moving your body with his. “Need your cum! Please!” 

He shushes you, shifting his hips just slightly to hit that spot inside you with every thrust. His teeth sink into your shoulder, your body shuddering violently under him as you cums a second time, soaking him and the blankets with your slick. 

He releases with a groan inside you, keeping his hold on your shoulder for a moment as he fills you with his cum. You let out little whines beneath him, your hips still jerking from the aftershocks of your orgasm. He releases your shoulder, running his tongue along the teeth marks indented in your skin. 

You go limp beneath him, his arms slipping under you to roll them to one side. He holds you against his chest, fingers tracing your skin as he continues to lap at your mark. He’s still buried inside you, half-hard in your pussy.

“I need to get us on our way to Nevarro.” He says, lips brushing your skin. 

You make a noise in protest, grabbing onto his wrists with surprising strength before he can get up. 

“I won’t be gone long.” He says, shifting his hips to pull out of you. “I’ll be back.” 

You make a disgruntled noise as he leaves the nest, mind working off of muscle memory to get the ship out of the atmosphere and into hyperspace. As soon as you’re headed towards Nevarro, he descends into the hull once more, crawling back into the nest with you. 

***

The warning alarm that the ship is about to drop out of hyperspace draws him from the nest. You shift in your sleep as he pulls himself from you, climbing back into the cockpit. He lands the ship, finding you sitting up in the nest when he gets back down to the hull. 

“We land already?” You ask, rubbing your eyes. 

“Just did.” He says, putting pieces of his armor back on. 

You get up, stepping into the fresher. “You’re lucky you have armor to hide behind.” 

“You look fine.” He says, slipping his blaster into the holster. 

“I most certainly do not.” You step back out. “If I go out there looking like this, people are gonna ask questions.” 

He eyes the bite mark on your shoulder, and the bruises across your collarbones and the sides of your neck. “You can always say it was a fight.” 

You give him a look. “Yeah, because people are gonna believe that. ‘You think this is bad, you should see the other guy.’” You mock, changing into clothes that offer better coverage. 

“You did quite a number on me.” He says. 

You shoot him a glare over your shoulder as you try to fix your hair so it doesn’t look like you’d fucked the entire trip. “Yeah, but no one’s gonna see it but me.” 

“Good.” He growls, his chest pressing against your back. 

You roll your eyes, smacking his arm with your brush. “Don’t we have things to do? People to see?” 

He rests his helmet against the side of your head for a moment before letting you go. He’s glad to see you're back to your normal self again, even if you are a bit of a pain in his ass. His hand brushes your side as you wait for the ramp to lower, feeling the blaster tucked into your pants. He smiles a bit behind his helmet. He never has to remind you. 

He takes your hand, leading you down the ramp. Karga and Cara are there already, waiting for you. 

“You never fail to impress me.” Karga says, greeting Din with a handshake. “I wasn’t expecting you so soon.” 

“It was an easy job.” Din says.

“Come on,” Karga says, clapping Din’s shoulder. “Let’s get them off-loaded then we can talk payment.” 

***

“How many have you found?” Cara asks as you sit around a table in the cantina. 

“Counting these three, ten.” Din answers. “Not nearly all of them, but things have gotten... complicated.” 

“They’re figuring it out.” Karga says. 

Din nods. “That, and...” 

“The Empire was involved.” You answer for him, not wanting to beat around the bush like Din was probably going to. You had no reason to lie, no reason to hide it. “They were the ones that picked us up trying to escape Mandalore.” 

“What would the Empire want with a bunch of Mandalorians?” Karga asks. 

“They wanted to study our kind.” You answer. “They wanted to know about our abilities. The heightened senses, increased strength, all of it. All beings are capable of waking it, but most have forgotten how. Mandalorians are one of the last groups that remember, and actively practice.” 

“This is getting into dangerous territory.” Cara warns. 

“I know.” Din says. “That’s why we came here after picking up the last three. We...have to decide what to do next.” 

“You can stay as long as you’d like.” Karga says. “I’ll put you up in a nice house on the outskirts, lots of privacy. My treat.” 

Din glances down at you, seeing the desire in your gaze. He’d be content staying in the ship, but he knows you miss a real roof over your head, a real bed. Your last vacation had really taken its toll on your omega instincts. He might never get you to leave if you stay. 

His shoulders slump a bit. “Fine.” 

***

What Din was hoping would only be a few days turns into a couple weeks. You had quickly fallen in love with Nevarro and its newly refreshed culture. You had yet to talk about your next move, as Karga was insistent on spoiling you and showing you all the best that Nevarro now had to offer. You were eating it up, and Din didn’t have it in him to stop you. 

After a few days, you began to slow down a bit. It was really what prompted him to stay longer than those few days. You were acting strangely, stranger than normal. You were more agitated, tossing and turning at night and then sleeping late into the day. He wondered if it was some lasting effect from your heat, or perhaps the underlying stress had caused your heat to start back up. 

You weren't showing any other normal symptoms of a heat, though. 

In fact, you were acting the opposite. 

Besides your grumpy attitude, he had been forced to sleep on the floor a couple times after you’d nearly pushed him off the bed. You’ve dodged his touches a few times, as well as shrugged off a few others. Your instincts were going haywire, and it was putting him on edge. 

His natural first thought was that someone had slipped something into some food or a drink. You weren't acting like you had been slipped a suppressant. Spice didn’t have much of an effect on your kind either, and he can’t think of anything else that could be causing such a reaction. It could just be delayed stress, or your body fighting some sort of illness. He considered contacting Boba, but he probably wouldn’t be able to offer up an explanation either. 

He should just load you up and take you back to Tatooine, but he’s worried a confined space might make you more agitated. The last thing he needs is an agitated omega in hyperspace. He could slip you something to help you sleep through the trip, but you’d be raging when you woke up again. 

He could always command you to. 

He doesn’t want to do that. It would be cruel. It would break the trust that had formed between them. He had told himself he’d only do it if he had no other choice, and this doesn't feel like the right situation. 

He won’t do that to you. 

He resorts to just asking you. 

He approaches you in the morning. You’re seated at the small table in the kitchen, your back to him. He keeps his distance, remembering the stories of how aggressive your omega is. He doesn't want to risk you getting hurt. 

He says your name, watching you from behind.. You let out a grunt in response. “Are you okay?” He asks. 

Your shoulders tense, hands closing into fists where they’re laying on the table. You're annoyed, the sharp scent filling the air. “Why?” 

Din shifts slightly on his feet. “You’ve been acting...different. Are you...feeling alright?” 

“Fine.” You snap. “I’m fine.” 

Din decides not to push it. You're not fine, but you're not in a place to answer either. 

***

You feel like you're’s going insane. You're tired, the same kind of tired you’d felt when you were on suppressants. You can’t sleep, though. Sleep evades you, leaving you tossing and turning until the early hours of the morning. You're on edge, every sound too loud, every smell too strong. 

And Din. His very presence is making your skin crawl. His scent, the quiet clank of his armor and shuffle of his flight suit is driving you up the wall. He’s been clingy lately, and you know it’s because of the way you’re acting, but the last thing you want is him close. You want space. You want to run off into the lava fields and just sit in silence for hours and breathe. 

You can’t, though. Din would be after you in an instant. 

Not to mention, you've started to feel sick. Certain smells have started to make you feel nauseous. If you lay a certain way too long you begin to feel it, the churning in your stomach. You refuse to be sick. It would only worry Din more, which would only make you more agitated. 

You hate it. 

So, you decide to visit the medical center. 

You slip out at night, after Din is fast asleep. You felt bad for forcing him on the floor, but the idea of him being that close, touching you, his body heat, all of it made your skin crawl. 

You slip out the door without him knowing, taking the short walk into town. You're on edge, every little sound making you jump and swing your light stick around. The town is dimly lit but quiet as you creep along the streets. Something tickles at the back of your neck as you nears the medical center, footsteps that aren’t your own sounding behind you. 

You slow your pace, hand slipping under your poncho. You spin, drawing your blaster, your heart in your throat. You tense, staring wide eyed at Cara. 

“Sorry,” The woman lifts her hands in surrender. “Didn’t mean to startle you.” Her lips lift in a smile. “You’re a quick draw.” 

You lower your blaster, taking a breath. “I had a good teacher.” 

“Where are you sneaking off to in the middle of the night?” Cara asks, taking a couple steps closer. 

You slip the blaster back into your waistband. “The medical center.” You answer honestly. “I need to get a test done.” 

Cara stares at you for a moment before nodding. “Would you like some company?” 

You swallow nervously. You don't want to go to the medical center. You know you might react like you did the last time. Especially being so on edge, there’s no telling what might happen, and with Din absent...

“Sure.” You nod. Maybe having someone there will help. Of course, Cara might tell Din, but he’s going to find out eventually if it is true. 

***

Din sits up, wide awake. It’s still dark out, the room lit from the moon shining in the window. Something is wrong, something is off. He can sense it, but his waking brain can’t quite figure it out. He glances around the room, seeing no intruders. He can’t hear anything either. 

He glances to the bed, the sheets messy and thrown back. You’re missing.

His heart leaps into his throat, body moving before he can even think. He’s on his feet, stepping through the door into the rest of the house. The fresher is open, the kitchen empty, and the living room. Have you run away? Did someone sneak in and take you? It would be impossible. 

You've gotten past him before. 

He slams his finger on the button to open the door, stepping out into the night. He quickly scans his gaze across the front of the house, the tension leaving his body almost instantly. 

You’re sitting in a chair in front of the house, knees pulled to your chest. The lamp is turned on, on the table next to you. You're staring out into the darkness, not even noticing his presence. 

He moves slowly, approaching you cautiously. You could snap, you could jump at him. If he startles you, you might try to shoot him again. You don’t acknowledge him at all, not seeming to notice, even as he sits in the chair next to you. He casts his gaze out where you’re looking, but he doesn’t see anything. He’s scared to break the silence, but he has to know. You're acting strangely, even more strange than before and it’s scaring him. 

“Din?” You whisper, voice barely audible even in the silence. 

“Yes, cyare?” He says, looking at you. 

Your gaze is still off in the distance, your hands tugging at your pant legs. “I want to go back to Tatooine.”

“Okay.” He says. He had told you all you needed to do was ask and he would. He had meant it. Whenever you wanted to, he would end your hunt and take you back to Tatooine. 

“I don’t want to do this anymore.” You continue.

He doesn’t need an explanation or a reason, but he’s not going to interrupt you. He does want to know what’s been going on, and if this is his answer, then he’s going to let you talk. 

“Din...I’m pregnant.”

His hands close around the arms of the chair, his stomach dropping. This was unexpected. He hadn’t even taken that into consideration. You both have the implant, though he knew the regular implant was questionable in its ability to protect against the kind of virility omegas experienced while in heat. Omegas had their own ways to protect themselves during their heat, but that knowledge had been lost. 

It would explain your sudden change, the aggressiveness, your sleep habits. There was a big change happening within you, and your body was rapidly trying to adjust. He remembered once seeing a newly pregnant omega when he was a boy. She had nearly taken the head off of her alpha. 

“It’s nothing personal.” He had said. “Just her body and her mind doing what it needs to do.” 

She’d calmed as the baby developed, and her bond with her alpha had grown to the point they were rarely apart. Had things been the way they were supposed to, you would have been surrounded by omegas, both mated and unmated, to help care for you during your pregnancy, especially in the late stages. Birthing was a sacred omega space. Alphas were only allowed in if something went wrong. The omegas would have continued to care for you and the pup after birth, until you recovered. 

Things weren’t the way they were supposed to be, though. With fewer and fewer omegas, and fewer and fewer safe spaces for them, omegas relied on their alphas for help. There was nothing sacred anymore, no help that only other omegas could provide. 

“I’m scared.” You whisper, a tear sliding down your cheek. 

He slowly reaches over, giving you plenty of time to turn, to push him away again. You stay still, letting him pull your hand from where it’s tugging at your pants. He wraps his fingers around your hand, squeezing it gently. “You don’t have to.” 

Your head snaps to him, teary eyes wide. “What?” 

“You don’t have to do this. If you’re not ready, if you want to wait, to...to plan things before...it’s your choice.” 

You stare at him. “But...but what about you?” 

He traces your knuckles with his thumb. “You’re the one that has to go through this. If you don’t want to...if you’d rather wait...it’s your choice.” 

You look back down at your lap. “I...I don’t know.” You squeeze his hand. “I think having the baby will be the easy part.” 

He tilts his head as he stares at you. “Why’s that?” 

You turn your gaze back to him. “We have to tell Boba.” 

***

Your leg bounces nervously as you sit in the Crest. You’d left Nevarro a few hours ago with promises to keep them updated and visit every so often. You had debated staying there permanently, but deep down you know you want to be with your family. You’d already lost one family, you want to spend as much time as you can with your new one. 

You're also nervous about telling Boba. You had told him you were returning, but you hadn’t explained why. You hadn’t told him about the Empire, or their little accident that led to you remembering either. He’s probably thinking the worst, and you do feel just a little guilty about not telling him anything. 

“We’ll be landing soon.” Din says, the Crest beeping as it warns of their approach. “This is the right thing to do.” 

“I know.” You say, curling your fingers around the end of your poncho. “I don’t think we could do this alone.” 

“We shouldn’t have to.” He says, guiding the ship out of hyperspace and towards the red planet. “It’s our safest option.” 

You let out a long breath as Din flies the ship towards the palace. It feels good, being home after so long, after everything that happened. Tatooine is home now, the first place that’s felt like home since you lost Mandalore so long ago. 

Din takes your hand as the ramp lowers, squeezing it gently. Fennec is waiting for them, a smile tugging at her lips as you make their way down the ramp. 

“So you survived the trip.” She says to Din. 

“Barely.” You snort, wrapping your arms around Fennec in a hug. 

“We weren’t expecting you back so soon.” Fennec says, holding you tightly. 

“There’s been a change of plans.” Din says. 

“That’s not a bad thing.” She releases you, nodding towards the door. “Boba’s got a surprise waiting for you in the throne room.” 

You glance at Din before taking his hand, following Fennec into the palace. She leads you to the throne room, Boba’s voice floating up the stairs. You half expect him to be holding court, but you're surprised there’s no one there. At least not where you’d expect. 

A tiny green head turns as you enter the throne room, letting out a soft cooing sound. 

Din stiffens beside you, dropping your hand. “Grogu?” 

The small bundle leaps into the air, practically flying right into Din’s arms. You take half a step back, surprised at the sudden agility from the small creature. 

“It’s you.” Din breathes, staring down at Grogu. “What are you doing here?” 

“Arrived in an X-Wing.” Boba says, stepping down from the throne. “I thought we were getting a visit from the New Republic.” 

“How long has he been here?” Din asks, holding Grogu against his chest. 

“Two days.” Boba answers. “I was going to tell you, but then I got your message about returning here. Figured it would be a nice welcome home.” 

You step up to Boba, throwing your arms around his neck. He holds you tightly, rubbing your back as you press your face into his neck. You can smell it, the faint whiff of something that might have been, had he not been born as a clone.

“Hello, ad’ika.” He says, continuing to hold you as you cling to him. 

“I missed you.” You whisper, not realizing just how much you had missed him. 

“I know.” He says, gently prying you away. “But you’re here now.” He brushes the hair from your face, before letting you go. 

You turn back to Din, looking down at the green bundle in his arms. You knew about Grogu, at least who he was to Din and what had happened to him. Din had told you all about his adventures with the little green troublemaker who also happened to be a wizard of sorts. Or, at least that’s how Din had described him. 

Din introduces you, looking down at Grogu. 

He leaps from Din’s arms, and you instinctively grab onto him before you even realize it’s happened. “Oh my.” You say, settling him before looking down at him. He blinks up at you with huge brown eyes, tilting his head. “You are the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.” You practically squeal, slapping Din’s arm with your hand. “You didn’t tell me he was this cute!” You wrap your arms around Grogu, squeezing him against your chest. “I just wanna squeeze him!” You release him after a couple seconds, adjusting him in your arms so you're cradling him like a baby. “You, little cutie,” You tap his little nose. “Are never leaving us again.” You turn, giving Din a pointed look. 

“I think we have a lot to discuss.” Boba says, watching you with a suspicious look on his face. 

Din nods. “We do.” 

“Are you hungry?” Boba asks. 

Both you and Grogu look up at him. “Yes!” You answer before he’s even finished asking. 

“Of course you are. Shouldn’t have bothered asking.” Boba says, calling for the table and food to be brought into the throne room. 

***

Din can barely keep his eyes off of you as you sit and eat lunch. Grogu is happily seated in your lap, eating food off your plate. You are on your third plate, having cleared most of the food yourself. Din’s arm is around the back of your seat, his own plate empty. He’d eat later. 

Instead he tells Boba about your journey. He already knew some of it, thanks to your regular updates, but the last bit and the finer details he had missed out on. Din tells him most everything, keeping the more intimate bits out of the story. He tells him about your injury and the revelation about what had happened to the ship that never made it to Concordia. 

“So why the sudden decision to come home?” Boba asks, looking between you. 

You glance up at Din, staring into his visor for a moment. “I’m pregnant.” 

The room falls silent, Boba setting his fork down slowly. Din’s hand tightens into a fist where it rests across the back of your chair. Even Grogu is quietly watching, looking between everyone. 

“I thought you both had the implant.” Fennec says, breaking the tense silence. 

“We do.” Din says. “Well, we did.”  

“The efficiency of it is only theorized.” You say. “Omegas have a higher virility rate during heat cycles and the implant is designed for non-omegas. Depending on the virility rate during a certain heat, the implant can be rendered entirely ineffective. Omegas used to have ways to prevent pregnancy during heat cycles, but now that most of us are gone and Mandalore was destroyed, I’m not sure there’s anyone out there who still knows how to do it.” 

“This is what you want?” Boba asks, still staring between you. 

“We talked about it. A lot.” You say. 

“We both agreed that maybe it’s time for a career change.” Din finishes for you. 

“The offer still stands.” Boba says.

“Then I am more than happy to accept.” Din says. 

You pass Grogu to Din before standing up, moving to Boba’s side. You wrap your arms around his neck, kissing his cheek. “Thanks, Grandpa.” 

“Easy, ad’ika.” Boba warns, but there’s a smile on his face. 

***

Din steps out of the fresher, wearing nothing but a thin shirt and pants. You’re stretched out on the bed on your side, Grogu snuggled against your chest. He was already enamored with you, seeming to understand the new dynamic in the way that he understood a lot of things. Din had told him about you and your place in his life, and though Grogu hadn’t offered much in an agreement of understanding, Din knew he understood. 

Din approaches the bed slowly, your eyes cracking open. “Do you want me to sleep on the floor?” He asks. 

You shake your head, reaching out for him. 

He crawls onto the bed, settling himself on the other side of Grogu. He can hardly believe Grogu is back. He doesn’t really understand why or how, but he’s glad Grogu has returned. He had missed the little troublemaker. Of course, the prospect of raising two children now is a bit intimidating, he at least already knew what to expect from Grogu. 

You tangle a hand in his shirt, holding onto him. He stretches an arm above Grogu’s head, slipping it under your neck. You press your nose against his arm, inhaling his scent. “I’m happy.” You whisper, turning your face back to look at him. “I’m happy we got some of those nerf herders taken care of. I’m happy we decided to come back when we did. I’m happy you have Grogu back.” 

“We have our aliit back together.” He says, lowering his other hand to your stomach. There’s no real bump there yet, no sign of the tiny life that’s forming, but he knows. Somehow he can sense your child forming inside you. “And soon, we’ll have another member.”  

“I’ll try not to beat you up too much.” You say, lifting a hand to stroke his cheek. 

He smiles, kissing the palm of your hand. “From what I’ve heard about you, I’d be more concerned if you didn’t.” 

You smile, laughing quietly. “I love you.” 

He puts a hand over yours, pressing it against his cheek. He stares at you, at the way you seem to glow in the low light of the room. You're beautiful. He’s so lucky to have you, so lucky to have been given the chance at something most Mandalorians only dreamed of. He has his aliit, you’re together and you’re safe. That’s what really matters. 

He smiles, leaning over Grogu to kiss you softly. “I love you too.” 

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