#and it’s tall and thin so it’s easier on my wrist for me to hold

[lesbianstarlightglimmer]

Dude why’d I pay $40 for a insulated water bottle tf is wrong w me

[talkteatennis]

Body

Summary: Andrey Rublev trying to get reader to go on a date.

Warnings: body conscious conversation, no smut but suggestive

“Andrey you are a twig,” y/n stated as you held his wrists in your hands as the tall lanky boy looked at you in shock.

“Am not, I am very toned” Andrey stated releasing his wrists from your grip to flex his biceps. Which made areas of your body tremble but you knew he wasn’t wrong.

All that played in your mind, was the battering you would receive from the media about not being one of those ‘twig bitch models’ he usually went for.

“Fine you are not. Now leave me alone please,” you said walking away from him trying to exit the players lounge only for him to rush in front and stop you from leaving.

“Y/N, you have been making excuses for why you can’t be with me! Why is that?” You sighed at his words. It was something he would never understand actually you thought.

“Because your not my type.” Y/N simply said, because it was easier this than to have to explain how you really felt.

“If thats so then why do you look at me as if you want to undress me?” He said getting closer and you were taken aback. You hadn’t realised Andrey had noticed your occasional glances but how could he not it’s not like you tired to hide it very well anyway.

Stammers and mutterings of words flowed out of your mouth but nothing to form coherent sentences.

“Its just dinner Y/N” he said looking at you as his hand gently caresses your cheekbones.

“No” you said again making herself clear and then leaving but once again only to be pulled back. Y/N let out a sigh of frustration as you once again you were faced with Andrey’s handsome face.

“I’m not letting you go,” he said this time his strong hands firmly placed on your waist holding you still right in front of him. He didn’t care who saw them at this point as players were just squeezing past the two of them trying to enter and exit the lounge. He wasn’t dropping the subject till you explained yourself.

“I am fat okay and I don’t want to go on a date with you because the media will rip me to shreds for not being thin and beautiful like all the models you go for!” You said eyes welling up a little. Andrey squeezed your sides tighter shaking his head before looking you in your beautiful eyes.

“Thats crazy. You are not fat you are cruvy in all the right places Y/N and I love it,” Andrey said letting his hand roam from your waist to your hips then butt which made blush, “ I don’t care what they think about you and you shouldn’t either and if they want to say stuff about the way you look I’ll put them in their place.” You smiled at his words and he leant in to kiss her but she stopped him by placing a finger on his lips just separating them.

“Okay, I will go to dinner only if you are sure that you want to date a poc, curvy woman,” you said looking him dead in the eyes.

“Oh I am sure. The things I would kill do to you right now,” he said whisperig the last part lustfully into your ear sending a warm an fuzzy feeling below your stomach.

You removed your finger slowly making sure to look him in the eye then gently placed your lips on his.

[sinfulcries]

hi sir! i really enjoy your works so could i request atsumu's senpai catching him jacking off while moaning reader's name in the locker room and reader takes his virginity on the spot?

maneater — atsumu x male reader

author's notes. UHM I AM SO SORRY THIS IS REALLY LONG I GOT REALLY INTO IT HAHAHA. this was also beta read by my lodicakes @bunbyy <3 thank you so much NJKNDKJA

tw. senpai kink, public sex, exhibitionism, mating press, caught masturbation, university au, virginity loss, peer pressure, belly bulge, size difference, unprotected sex, barebacking, facefucking, facial, sleazy senpai reader

Miya Atsumu, by all means, was never interested in dating or the concept of love and crushes and infatuation. All of those seemed vaguely unfamiliar to the boy who only had volleyball on his victory-hungry mind. When it came to a certain male on his team however, he would instantly lose his composure. His knees would feel like jelly whenever their fingers would brush against each others accidentally and his face would heat up like wildfire when the flirty, tall senior would attempt to flirt with him.

A crush, Miya supposed. These feelings would go away sooner or later but Osamu and his teammates who clearly caught onto Atsumu’s strange behavior, begged to differ.

More often than intended, you two would have the thickest and most uncomfortable sexual tension. And one of those instances was right now.

After one of your practice matches, you had peeled your shirt off to reveal your seemingly perfect body. Atsumu revelled in the way your skin glistened under the sheer layer of sweat coating your big arms and your toned abdomen, or the way the fabric of your shorts hung low and exposed more than what meets the eye, leaving Atsumu to imagine the rest of what laid beneath. The blonde made sure to take his sweet time memorizing every crevice of your toned stomach, failing to notice the teasing smirk plastered on your face.

Interrupting the male’s not so discreet sightseeing, you chuckled. “Enjoying the view, Tsumu?” You teased, making the said male blush embarrassedly. “N-No! Shut yer trap, Senpai!” He sneered only to receive a grin from you in reply. “You know, You’re really cute when you’re flustered, dollface.”

God, the things you did to him were dangerous and the cute pet name went straight to his cock, making it noticeably twitch against his thigh. The shorter man merely ignored your statement with a blush on his face, giving you an embarrassed wave before walking towards the locker room, “I'm gonna take a shower.”

By showering, Atsumu meant releasing his sexual frustration by jacking off to the thought of you fucking him. The wing spiker shut his eyes in pleasure as he flicked his wrist around his length shamelessly, lips parted ever so slightly as he moaned your name.

The thought of you manhandling him, having him pressed up against your chest as you fucked him raw made Atsumu shut his eyes tightly. His pace only increased as he fisted his cock much faster, imagining that it was your bigger hand instead. This was definitely more than a crush-- Miya just came to the thought of his teammate for fuck’s sake! Thank God you weren’t there to witness the sinful and humiliating act that he had just committed.

By the time he came, shooting thick ribbons of white cum onto the tile walls, he rinsed the rest of his body clean before reaching out of the stall to grab his towel. Before he could even grasp the cloth, another person snatched it before he could, making him groan frustratedly.

“‘Samu, I swear if this is you, I’ll cut yer ba—”

When Atsumu opened the shower curtain however, the culprit was not his twin brother but instead, you stood in front of him with an amused look on your face. Your teasing expression only making the shorter man gulp nervously.

Avoiding your coy gaze, you taunted, “You’re a bad boy, Atsumu.” while moving to pin the blonde against the tile walls. Atsumu let out a soft squeak, feeling your calloused fingertips rubbing teasingly against the rim of his ass.

“Touching yourself to the thought of me.” You growled, leaning in to lap at the expanse of his neck, your teeth slowly dragging against his skin leaving bite marks on the clean flesh.

The blonde let out a breathy moan, as he tried to explain himself, however his mind was clouded with nothing but lust and disbelief. “I’ll give you the real thing instead. How does that sound?” You whispered, making the blonde shake his head. “I-I don’t want to..”

As much as he desperately wanted to feel your cock messing up his insides, he was embarrassingly enough, a virgin. And to have his virginity taken in some dirty locker room had him thinking more rationally, holding himself back from succumbing into his desires.

“Why not? Are you a virgin?” You teased, making Atsumu pipe up with humiliation. “Am not!” He protested.

Not believing the blonde, your hand inched towards his ass, prodding at his entrance with one finger. The male immediately jolted forward into your chest, squeaking as you pushed the digit in. “F-feels weird…” Atsumu murmured.

Ah, a virgin. How adorable.

The best people to fuck, in your not so humble opinion, were virgins. They were quite similar to new toys— they’d have your cock inside of their cunts, getting a good feel of how big you are before they’re reduced to a sobbing mess, feeling your cock molding them into your shape.

“C’mon now, ‘Tsumu, don’t be such a buzzkill for yer senpai.” You mused, giving his ass a harsh slap. “I’ll take good care of you. I’ll be gentle.” Your words weren’t the most convincing especially paired with the predatory gaze in your eyes. Nonetheless, Atsumu complied hesitantly, deciding to trust you instead, “Ugh fine. Ya better be gentle or I’m backing out.”

‘You’d be too addicted to even think about backing out’ You thought to yourself, grinning as you pulled the blonde out of the shower, urging him to lay down on one of the benches before pulling your shorts off along with your boxers.

By no means were you remotely close to small. Atsumu shamelessly drooling at the sight of your thick cock leaking beads of precum in your hand. Miya could only gulp as you pressed the smooth head of your cock against his bottom lip, letting the fat head part his lips open. “W-Wait you won’t go too deep right?” Atsumu mumbled worriedly.

“Just trust me.” You responded, guiding the rest of your cock inside of his mouth slowly. And without a single warning, you grabbed the boy by the back of his head, pulling him in closer as he choked helplessly on your cock. “You can take it right Tsum? Senpai knows you can.” The condescending grin that wormed its way onto your lips made Atsumu moan against your cock, your hips now moving to fuck the wing spiker’s warm throat.

You could vaguely hear the sound of him choking and gurgling around your thick length, the younger man’s jaw now going slack with how long you’ve been mercilessly thrusting into his mouth. “Shh, Samu might walk in at any minute. How would he react to seeing his cute lil twin getting facefucked by his sleazy senior?” You whispered tauntingly, Miya only “mmf!”-ing in reply.

With your thrusts slowly becoming sloppy as you felt your high approaching, you took your cock of the blonde’s mouth before spilling your load on his pretty face, relishing in the way your cum dripped over the boy’s cute features. “S-Senpai…” The boy panted, shakily taking your cock in his small hand “Want more…”

Your prediction was proven to be correct. Miya Atsumu was already addicted to your cock and you haven’t even taken his virginity yet! What a charming lil whore, so easy for you to break and corrupt!

Smiling at the blonde, your fingers were now pushed against the puffy rim of his ass, the dampness from his recent shower making it much easier to prep his hole for your cock. Atsumu let out a soft gasp as you started to curl and twist your fingers inside of him, his body writhing cutely against the bench he was laying on. “Mm so tight, I can’t wait to fill this cute cunt up.”

Miya blushed at your words, the venom in your voice making him flush red with how needy he was for you. Jolting upwards, he could feel your fingers brushing against his prostate, a flurry of high pitched moans ripping past his throat as you continued to fingerfuck the poor boy. “Ssssso good~!” Squealing girlishly, Atsumu’s cock trembled before he came on his stomach.

“Fuck, you look so hot” You rasped out, admiring the way his chest heaved up and down, his oversensitive cock now twitching against his stomach. As much as you wanted to spend your time admiring the view, your patience was wearing thin, and you could barely keep yourself from climbing on top of his quivering figure, aligning the head of your cock against his puckered rim before pushing every inch inside of him. The pain was absolutely unbearable-- the thought of pushing you off of him was the only thing occupying his mind as he blinked back the fat tears forming in his eyes.

As expected, his ass felt so good wrapped around your cock. Nothing beats the feel of a freshly entered, young virgin, especially since he looked so pretty folded down on the bench with your cock filling his ass.

“It hurts! Too big--!” Atsumu whimpered, finally letting the tears he had been holding back stream down his pretty little face. You only grasped both of his legs in response, folding him with ease so that his ass was raised to take in more of your cock. With you, balls deep inside of him-- It was safe to say that Atsumu was slowly breaking. It was obvious with how his tongue was stuck out, eyes crossed lewdly as the tears, cum and drool on his face mixed messily together. The satisfaction of burying every inch of your cock inside of his ass only brought a wicked smile on to your face and it didn’t take long for you to start fucking him and breeding him against the dirty bench, each euphoric thrust sending atsumu overdrive as he breathlessly panted for more. His whimpers sent you into a frenzy, your hips pistolling deeper to abuse his prostate-- and the blonde could only scream for dear life as you pounded into his guts mercilessly.

Rich, deep moans spilled from your lips only aiding Atsumu into orgasming much faster. And Your brash, rapid thrusts made ‘Tsumu moan out in pure bliss, keeping himself balanced as he held onto your sturdy arms. “Such a fucking cockslut for a virgin.” You groaned, Driving your cock deeper inside of him so that you could marvel at the little bump bulging out of his toned stomach.

“Look at that, you can even see my cock in yer little tummy.” Teasing him never got old, especially with the cute whine that came out of his mouth. “If only the team was able to see just how much of a virgin whore you really are.”

That alone was enough to make Atsumu cum once more, and with one more drive of your hips against his colon, you watched as his body spasmed against your cock, his eyes rolling into the back of his head as he cried out your name.

Although you did have a bad habit of tossing virgins away once you were done using them up, you were certain that you’d keep Miya Atsumu for a while. After all, he was quite fun to play with.

[anyoneseenadam]

we all know azriel is one kinky mf 😂 what about the reader introducing him the mortal basic sex toys and him ‘experimenting’ the whole bdsm thing on the reader because he thought only bondage was the only thing that existed

pairing: azriel x reader (acotar)

warnings: this is filthy, pet play, dom az, sub reader, slight breath play, overstiulation, orgasm denial (lemme know if i missed anything)

a/n: ummmmm i may have over done this but im horny and lonely so leave me alone lol, lemme know what u think <33

--------------------------------------------------

Azriel knew you were into a lot of stuff. Fuck he was too. But your world was completely different to his so when you approached him with a box and the cute smile you always wore when you wanted something, he knew you were taking it a step up.

It wasn’t as if your sex life was vanilla. Azriel revelled in looking after your every need and you fell so easily into a submissive nature that it worked perfectly. But the two of you had rarely ventured past light bondage and the spoken aspect that came with your power dynamic.

He sat facing you now, watching as you bounced cutely in excitement with the box secure in your lap. He had never seen the box before, but you had recently returned from a trip home to the world you were born in, so he presumed that was why.

“Are you going to open that bunny?” he asked, a smile tugging at his lips when you scrunched up your face.

“I need to explain it first,” you said, and he tilted his head, wondering what it could possibly be. “It’s just- while I love our sex and all, like top-notch, ten out of ten I have no complaints.”

Azriel laughed as you spoke, “Out with-it bunny,”

“Well actually, it’s about that.” He raised his eyebrows in question, and you moved to explain, “Bunny.”

“What? Do you not like the name?” he asked, growing more confused by the second.

“No I love it!” you were failing at articulating your thoughts, so you slumped your shoulders before pushing the box to him.

“Can I open this?” he asked, wanting to be sure he wasn’t crossing your boundaries smiling when you nodded. Inside revealed dozens of foreign objects, small rubber tools, handcuffs, rope, but what caught his attention was the fluffy rabbit tale attached to what appeared to be a plug and the matching ears. He looked up at you with a smile as he picked it up.

“Bunny huh?” he asked, and you felt your face heating up, nodding shyly.

“Yeah I was wanting to try it out,” your voice was quiet, and he reached for you, pulling you tightly into his lap.

“What does everything else do?” he asked, and you smiled, picking up a small tool and pressing it against his palm, flipping a switch on the other side as he felt vibrations run through his palm. You then talked him through other things, your voice getting smaller and shyer with certain objects in the box, namely the leash.

“I also got this,” you said at the end, reaching to grab a bad he recognised, the fancy lingerie store that was located near the old house. He reached in, eyes widening when he pulled out an intimate lace two piece with matching stockings and a garter belt. And upon further inspection he found the thin panties were crotchless, looking up at you with dark eyes.

“Tonight, you are going to get dressed up nice and pretty for me, tail and ears included, and then we’ll really see how some of this works. Okay bunny?” you gulped as his voice lowered in pitch.

“Yes daddy.”

--

You were sat on your knees. The floor was cold and hard, pressing against you roughly but you didn’t dare move. You had nothing on but the white lingerie you had purchased and, the headband holding fluffy rabbit ears. You shifted slightly, the plug that was wedged deep inside of you, shifting as you whimpered. You didn’t know how you hadn’t dripped on the floor yet, your pussy soaking and pulsating with need.

Azriel was standing in front of you, his eyes impassive as they raked over your features. He bent down slightly, tilting your head via the collar he had secured around your neck and kissing you deeply.

“Such a cute little bunny,” he whispered against your mouth as he pulled away, smiling when you chased his lips. “So desperate for me, aren’t you bunny?”

You nodded desperately and he slapped your cheek lightly, “Words.”

“Yes daddy,” you whispered, voice shy as he smiled down at you. He was so tall you felt even smaller than usual as he towered over you, standing back to his full height. His wings and shadows made it all the more intimidating, crowding you in until all you could see was him.

He had already discarded his shirt and you watched in awe as he undid his trousers, pulling his impressive length out and running the leaking tip over your bottom lip. He smiled as your tongue darted out, licking away the precum that was left on your lips as he gripped your hair.

“Keep those hands behind your back,” he ordered, and you moved them, pushing your breasts forward as a result. “Open wide, bunny.”

He pushed into your mouth gently to start. He was big and he knew it, and he didn’t want to hurt his bunny to early. Although his composure was slipping as you sat at his feet, all pouty lips and doe eyes. Looking like the epitome of innocence.

He pushed in further, tip hitting the back of your throat as you willed yourself to relax around him, sucking lightly as he started to thrust slowly into your mouth. He started to lose himself in the thrusts, and moved faster, going deeper into your mouth as you gagged around him, tears falling and smudging your makeup.

He looked down and looked at you, his cock in the back of your throat with tears streaming down your face as you gazed up at him with eyes full of adoration. He felt himself get impossibly harder and thrust particularly hard into your mouth, your hands moving to balance yourself on his thighs automatically.

He growled and your eyes widened as he roughly pulled himself from your mouth, “What did I say bunny?”

You stayed quiet, eyes wide as he grabbed your collar again, tugging harshly as he pulled your face up to his.

“Bunny…” his voice was low, and you spoke quickly, afraid of your punishment.

“To keep my hands behind my back daddy,” he gripped your chin in one hand,

“And what did you do?”

“I moved them, I’m sorry daddy,” you whined as he pulled away, not daring to move when he walked away, rustling in something behind you. You flinched when you felt his hand on your wrists, securing them behind your back with the baby pink handcuffs you had bought.

He moved to stand in front of you again, moving his cock back to your lips and pushing into your mouth, even deeper this time. He smiled ferally when you gagged, “Awe can the little bunny not take it? Is it too much bunny?” he mocked, and you moaned around him as he started thrusting again.

His thrusts got sloppy quickly, too turned on by the sight of you underneath him. “You’re so pretty bunny,” he moaned, stroking one of your cheeks as his other hand held the back of your head. He sped up again when you moaned before pulling you flush against his base, one hand moving to rest around your throat where he could feel himself as he spilled inside of you.

You moaned as he came, some of it spilling into your mouth and coating your tongue with the salty taste as he pulled back, tucking himself back into his trousers as you caught your breath.

“Good bunny, you did so well,” he praised, and you smiled up at him as he brought you to stand, your knees aching. He went to sit on the bed, pulling you to sit onto his lap as you rested your head on his shoulder, his hands moving slowly as they stroked your back.

“Fuck bunny you’re so wet, can feel you through my trousers.” He swore and you whimpered as he shifted you, so you were straddling on thigh, leaning back on his hands as you tried to remain balanced with your hands behind your back.

“Go on baby, fuck yourself on my thigh,” he commanded, and you felt your face heat up. “Well get on with it, you don’t need me to do everything for you, do you? Such a dumb bunny.” He smacked your thigh lightly and you started grinding down, letting out a whiny moan as he degraded you, your pussy dripping onto his thigh as you ran your cunt over him.

The friction his trousers creates on your clit was fogging up your mind and you struggled to stay upright as you moved, balance thrown off with nothing to hold onto. You started moving quicker, desperate for release. Azriel was watching you intently, a lazy smirk on his face as he watched you struggle to move on his thigh.

You found a rhythm and started grinding down harder onto him, moaning with your head back. As you neared your release, Azriel gripped your hips and helped pulling you down harder against him, your wetness making it easier to guid you along his leg. You were almost there when suddenly he lifted you completely off his leg, causing you to shriek as you fell forward in his grasp.

“Not yet bunny,” he cooed as you looked up at him with wide eyes,

“But, but daddy I was almost there,” you whined, and he glared at you.

“Are you talking back?” he demanded, and you shook your head fervently, “Good bunny. Daddy always knows what’s best doesn’t he?”

You nodded quickly and he smiled, dropping you onto the bed and turning you onto your back, pulling your hips up and pushing your head down.

“Oh you’re such a cute bunny,” he muttered, twisting the plug secured in your ass, laughing when you moaned loudly, not used to the sensation. He tapped the end of it a few times as he got his hard cock back out, dragging the head through your folds.

You shivered at the sensation, still shaking from the orgasm that was ripped away from you. He pushed the head of his cock into your entrance slightly, one hand still stroking the white tail between your ass cheeks.

“Daddy please!” you whined, trying to push back as he moved his hand to grip the cuffs you were in.

“Such a desperate bunny,” he mocked as he watched you struggle to push him into your entrance, hips moving on their own accord. He decided to put you out of your misery, gripping your cuffs tightly as he pushed in, pulling you back to him.

You moaned loudly, never prepared for the intrusion of his monster cock. It always felt like he would never bottom out but soon enough he was pressed into the base, leaning over you to press dizzying kisses into you neck as he allowed you a few seconds to adjust to him. He reached a hand underneath you, pressing into your stomach where he could feel a slight bulge, groaning into your ear.

“Fuck bunny, you’re so small I can feel myself all the way in your cute tummy,” he cooed as you whined, tears falling already, even though he was yet to move. He pulled his hips back completely, leaving you feeling empty for half a second before he roughly shoved himself back in, groaning at the sound your achingly wet pussy created.

He sat back up, holding your hips as he began thrusting roughly in and out of you. You simply laid there, allowing him to use your body as he liked as you moaned into your sheets. He was so deep inside you, you could feel him hitting your cervix, the pleasure far outweighing any pain.

He was groaning above you, eyes focused on where your bodies met, and the cute tail protruding above it. Unable to stop himself he reached for it, tugging it gently as your whole body shook, moaning loudly.

“Are you going to cum bunny? Huh? You’ve been so needy all evening, just needed my cock so badly.” You couldn’t even reply, too cock drunk to form a coherent sentence. He slapped you ass, enamoured as it rippled under his palm.

“C’mon slut, speak up.” He spanked you again and you screamed out, seconds from your orgasm.

“I need to cum so badly daddy, please! Please let me cum,” you begged as he laughed behind you, delivering another particularly hard thrust before pulling from you completely, grinning when you swore. Your body was shining with sweat in the low light and Azriel kissed your shoulder lightly, tasting the salty skin.

“Hmm sorry bunny, not quite yet.” He muttered as you cried, pushing your hips further up, presenting yourself to him.

“Please daddy please, I need to cum,” you begged but he just laughed.

“Oh you will my sweet bunny,” he whispered, standing, and moving to the box and you watched with fearful eyes as he picked up the vibrator. “But I want to see how this works first.”

He moved back behind you, pushing into you slowly as you groaned in tandem. He started thrusting slowly making you shake, moaning when you heard the electrical buzz of your bullet vibrator. He pressed the small tool against your clit, hips speeding up as he flicked the switch higher, feeling the vibrations on his cock from where the vibrator was pressed against your clit.

“Oh fuck bunny, that’s powerful,” he groaned as you moaned, desperate for release. “You can cum bunny, don’t worry. Cum as much as you like.”

Too distracted by your orgasm you missed the change in tone as he kept thrusting into you through your orgasm, not pulling the vibrator away or finishing himself. Your legs shook violently as you rode through your orgasm only to feel another building just as quickly.

It only took a few more thrusts and you were coming again, screaming into the covers on your bed as Azriel groaned behind you at the feeling of your cunt tightening around his cock. But his thrusts didn’t slow, only growing sloppier as he threw you straight into your third orgasm, suddenly realising that you had maybe bargained for too much as he moved your body roughly.

Your legs were numb, and you were shaking all over, sobbing from the pleasure as Azriel started slowing, groaning behind you.

“Give me one more bunny, and I’ll fill you up, I promise. Last one bunny, c’mon I know you’ve got it in you.” He pleaded as you moaned, knowing you would anything to please him. You felt your fourth orgasm build and moaned lowly, voice hoarse as you came again, barely able to make a sound.

You vaguely heard Azriel moan behind you, filling you as you shook from the force of your orgasm, your body slumping as you lost consciousness.

When you came to less than a minute later, Azriel was hovering over you, eyebrows furrowed in worry.

“I’m sorry bunny, I was too harsh, are you okay?” you reached up and smoothed between his eyebrows with a soft smile growing on your face.

“I love you so much,” you muttered, and his shoulders relaxed, moving so he was laying on your back, pulling you into his arms.

“I love you more bunny, you’re perfect,” he kissed your head gently as you giggled.

“You’re going to have to carry me everywhere for a week or two though.” You joked as Azriel sat up and went about removing the plug and lingerie, wiping your sweaty skin down with a cool cloth.

“That was my plan sweetness,” he replied, eyes bright. “I also think you need to take me with you next time you go back, and we need to have a look in that shop.”

[ohheyitsokay]

Okay so I finally came up with a Soulmate AU request to celebrate your (very well-deserved) milestone! How about a soulmark au with poly frontier? I’m really curious to hear your thoughts on how everyone would handle having the same mark as four other people! (Aside from Will and Benny of course - so maybe everyone else has two marks while they each have one??) - Ghost

ghost, my first fandom friend, by biggest encourager of self-indulgent chaos... I sincerely hope you enjoy

warnings: this takes place "in" my poly frontier au, which means it's 18+.

and by in, I mean this is an au to my au, so just... yeah. you know what's happening.

<<

soulmate requests / follower celebration

>>

They knew, deep down that they were soulmates before the marks came in solid.

Even when there was just the faintest echo of shading, almost a bruise of a moment, they already knew.

Because the four of them, and Tom, had willing gone to hell and back with each other. They had felt the lifeblood bleed out of each other, and given their very breath to try to make up for it, sacrificed... everything, for each other. Not for their country, like the thought, and it wasn't even for the greater good that they survived - it was the men who's eyes found each other's across the fire that fortified their souls. And they'd been pushed and pulled and stretched together, and when only four remained, thoroughly broken and then healing together, they knew.

Months into therapy, each on their own, and a lifetime into tired phonecalls with quiet apologies, the tattoos solidified.

It was Santi who organized the dinner

"Can... can I ask you guys something?"

"A little late for that, don't you think?" Will’s words were without bite, and he sipped his drink carefully.

"Fuck off," he said begrudgingly, endearingly. "Your guy's... came in, too?" That part was false confidance, a thin veil over wild fear.

"Yep," Frankie's tone was matter-of-fact, satisfied. Glances and nods, they all... processed it. Benny swallowed the last of his drink and Frankie's knuckles ran over his thighs. Santi inhaled deeply before letting the breathe out slowly, trying to ignore the slight tremble of his hands.

It was messy, the soulmate talk. They'd been having it all their lives - the intricacies that even the world's most powerful governments still couldn't untangle. And Frankie and Santi each had two.

Will dragged his thumb through the condensation on his glass, looking involuntarily at his brother.

"I need to tell you guys something." Their heads shot up to look at him, and Benny almost laughed.

"There's someone else."

They were looking at him in blank shock, an appropriate reaction.

"Fuck."

"You know this... how, exactly?"

"Childhood friend. She got two, in college. Matches Will and me, the same as you guys. " Ben sounded almost giddy, his words making the chaos real.

"Mom hated it - was sure one of us was going to die or get our heart broken. But then we saw your guy's and -"

"Fuck."

"Yeah."

"Why didn't you say anything before now?" Frankie was mad. It was too much - it felt unreal.

"She said she didn't want to choose either brother, said it didn't feel right."

"Now we know why, I guess." Benny's hand ran across Frankie's shoulder, his attempt to make light of it all had been put aside.

"She?"

"Yeah."

Pope dragged his hand along his jaw, drink forgotten. There was a familiar glint in his eye, and Will knew he felt it too - like it or not, it felt right. Frankie would take longer to convince - he looked like he wanted to crack his head open and cook whatever was inside.

"You guys should meet her."

Catfish made a strangled noise, and Will couldn't help but kiss his temple.

"Whenever you're ready."

-

It took weeks.

Frankie went silent for ten days, ignoring calls and texts, before Will came home and found him on his couch.

They talked for awhile and it was nice, different than therapy. Not about being Delta, not about Columbia or cocaine, they talked about... you. About how you'd been Will's first love, since he was a pretend knight in shining armor, and you'd asked to be the dragon. About how he'd seen that same look in Benny's eyes when you'd been the only one to turn up at one of his high school shows. Their long talks, trying to figure out how to move on from their soulmate, how impossible it felt until they all met on the force. About how scary it was, for all these friendships to become something so... unknown.

And over chili, Frankie sighed, and agreed to meet you. Because of Will, he was already in love with you more than he'd admit even to himself.

-

They invited you over to Santi's for dinner, not wanting to cause a scene at a restaurant.

Benny hugged you the moment you walked in, crushing your nerves and your ribcage at the same time. Your hand cradled his cheek, a reassuring touch.

Then Will gently pulled you into his arms, harboring you against his chest. He asked questions into your hair, and you grabbed fistfulls of his shirt before you nodded.

The one they introduced as Frankie - Catfish - didn't touch you but he might as well have. He stepping into your space, looking right into your eyes, standing over you like he was as tall as Ben. His words were kind, and careful. His tattoos matched yours.

The other - Santi, Pope - dropped the package of farmer's market veggies he'd been holding onto the ground. Then he shook your hand, while the others shot him looks like he'd grown an extra head. You wondered if Will had texted you the wrong names - he didn't seem excited to meet you like they'd said. If anything, he seemed caught off-guard, like there was a confidance you had taken away. But his tattoos matched yours.

Your nerves returned.

Food helped, polite conversations melting into teasing stories and giddy laughter. They ate a lot, and you smiled when they shared bites with each other. Under the table Benny’s hand found yours, and squeezed before he got distracted. Above, Will touched your cheek and for the first time, you let yourself lean into his warmth.

And when you began to clean the dishes, something shifted. Frankie's hands ran over yours in the soapy water, and he seemed startled, but he shifter closer to you, both of you flushing as you sought the touch again.

Moments later you stumbled upon Santi looking at the stars when you took out the trash. It was flattering, that such a man would be nervous because of you. Standing on your toes, you kissed his cheek, and he pulled you into his arms, grab so tight you though you understood his fears. His palm held your head against his neck,, and you wrapped your arms around his broad ribcage. Will found you like that, and leaned against the doorframe, watching.

You felt like you were free falling, and you could tell they felt it too. It was a lot to take in, but no one seemed like they wanted the night to end. Trading stories and sharing glances, it dragged on and on, until Francisco caught you yawning, and coaxed the evening to a close.

By the time he succeeded, you knew, and so did they. Marks be damned - this was it.

-

Your first individual date was with Benny. It wasn't as easy as either of you expected - his own anxiety about the situation finally catching up to his excitement. He was a good friend, always had been, always would be, and you knew him like the back of your hand. Dating had been off-limits for so long.... it was going to take time to rewrite.

"I just... I love you. I love you all so much." Your Ben was always honest. It would've felt like a crazy thing to say, on a first date, but everything about this wasn't traditional.

"I love you too, Ben, you know I do." Your voice was quiet, trying to convey how strange this was for you, too, and he let out a long, slow breath. After awhile, air full of thoughtful silence, his shoulders relaxed and he smiled, soft and happy.

His rough hands found yours again, and this time, he didn't let go until he had to.

-

When you met Frankie for lunch, you felt suddenly shy. His dark eyes felt like they could see right into your heart, and you fidgeted, hoping he liked whatever he saw.

He talked like he knew you, and you felt like he did, a strange comfort in the chaos of your worlds. When your wrist bumped your glass he caught both, hand lingering on your skin as he ducked his head and pulled his eyes away.

Words came easier, then, and more and more, until suddenly you felt like maybe fate know what it was doing.

Frankie was thoughtful - so thoughtful and careful and kind, you watched him in awe, tempted to hug him without abandon. And he talked with passion, about your boys, how they saved him time and time again, and how he took care of them, when you couldn't.

You realized, as you kissed his cheek goodbye, that he was the one who helped change Benny's tire, so he could make it to your birthday party a few years ago. Footsteps already on the way down the street, your heart tugged, begging you to take one last look at his fluffy curls and steady eyes. When you turned back, he was watching you, hands in his pockets, and you wondered as you waved if it was too soon to say you were head over heels for Francisco Morales.

-

Dinner with Santi felt the most like a first date, of all of them. He was quick to flirt, but his eyes held yours, and his smile was perfectly crooked, and you knew he meant every word.

He told you information, rather than stories, rambling excitedly, one train of thought stringing into the next. When he realized his tangents, he flushed, wringing his napkin as he apologized.

"Don't," you shushed him, "Tell me more, please."

He was silent for a moment, pausing to drink you in, heart racing in spite of himself. And then he resumed, and you thought maybe you got it.

For years, he'd had loves all around him, but... you were his first opportunity to be romantic in a dramatic way, as intense as his heart had ached for, silently. It was lovely, watching him settle into his skin, and when he kissed your temple that night, it was a thank you, and a promise.

Despite all logic, the free falling and stumbling steps towards whatever came next, he made you feel safe.

-

It was a familiar grassy hill, you met Will on, one you'd climb to when you were teens who needed to talk.

He sat close - closer than he ever had - but enough away that you could move, if you wanted to. It was strange, talking about the others with him, seeing the relief in his eyes as your honesty poured out. Moments later, he matched it, and you saw that golden glow as he smiled.

"I'm glad, really I am."

You waited.

"But..." gently, you bumped into him and he looked at you, blue eyes questioning. "I know you, Will."

His smile grew.

"Could I... I want to kiss you." It wasn't really a question - and he held himself back, watching for your response. There was no need to add I want to kiss you because I've been waiting to, aching to. Since we were kids - let me kiss you first. Please. Both lf you knew what he meant.

You weren't sure who leaned in first, but his hands, grabbed at your cheeks, fingertips in your hair, and his lips were warm and soft.

It, all of it, felt like home.

<<

taglist:

@fangirl-316 @scribbledghost @writeforfandoms @beautyagegoodnesssize @princess76179 @mrsbentallmadge @horton-hears-a-honk

[thedummysdummy]

Little League

The result of a request from @kazuko-stuff Hopefully it’s everything you hoped for!

The sound of tiny feet pounding up and down metal bleachers and shrill blasts from coaches’ whistles formed the soundtrack of the day. Victor sat on a thin cushion with a squirming Cleo in his arms, trying his best to hold her still while her mother applied sunscreen to her already apple-y toddler cheeks. She burbled happily and reached out for her mother’s hands, grasping her fingers and shaking them vigorously. “Come on now, Lolo. You’ll end up like a lobster if we don’t get this sunscreen on you! You got your daddy’s fair skin.” 

“Don’t blame the tendency to sunburn on me,” Victor grumbled, gently pinning his daughter’s hands to her sides to allow easier access to her face. “You don’t exactly have the most tannable skin yourself. When is Little Vic’s team supposed to play, again? Are they running late?”

The girl glanced at the watch on her wrist as she finished rubbing the white lotion into the toddler’s skin. “About five more minutes. Looks like the current teams are just finishing up.” Sure enough, the baseball field was clearing out as the kids ran back to their dugouts to get treats from their coaches. Just outside the gates stood the next teams, and among the throng of children was the tall and spindly form of Victor’s eldest son. He stood with that same ramrod straight back and unapproachable expression that he had inherited from his father, though the other children did not seem to be intimidated by him in the least. In fact, they gathered around him and chatted animatedly with huge grins on their shining faces. 

Victor handed his daughter to his wife and straightened the too-small cap on his head, the one his son had so proudly handed him that morning and requested he wear to the game. Even on the largest setting it barely clung to Victor’s dark hair, but he wore it dutifully. “Ah, there they go,” he murmured as his son and his friends filed into the dugout and began rummaging through the helmets and bats in search of their favorites. 

Little Vic peered out through the chain link fencing, his cloudy eyes scanning the bleachers until they fell on the forms of his family. Those eyes lit up and he gave a small wave, smiling as he saw the cap on his father’s head. They waved back, the girl gently waving Cleo’s little arm as well. “Good luck!” she mouthed, blowing Little Vic a kiss. A soft blush spread over his cheeks and Little Vic looked around to see if any of his teammates had seen his mother being embarrassing. They all seemed engaged in their own tasks and he let out a small sigh before turning away. “Hopefully he has improved since the last game,” Victor drawled, picking up the camera at his side and snapping a few photos of his son. 

“He’s five, Victor. Give him a break! Besides, you had him practicing his pitching and batting for hours this week. How could he not have improved?” The girl placed a tender kiss on Victor’s cheek and rested her head on his shoulder, prompting him to wrap his arm around her shoulders and pull her in closer. He returned her gesture with a kiss on the top of her head, his lips absorbing the warmth the sun had imparted to his wife’s hair. “Just don’t push him too hard, okay? I know you expect big things of him, but I have no doubts he will make you proud in his own way. He absolutely idolizes you.” 

A frown crossed Victor’s face and he shook his head. “He doesn’t have to do anything special to make me proud of him. He is my son! I will always be proud of anything he accomplishes.” 

The girl looked up at Victor’s face and smiled softly. “You should definitely tell him that, and tell him that often. If I’ve learned anything from you, it’s the importance of having the support of those you love who love you back.” Victor met her eyes, his own narrowed slightly in thought. He nodded and gave her a squeeze, his gaze returning back to the field. 

Little boys in red and white uniforms swarmed the field, with Little Vic taking center stage on the pitcher’s mound. The cold expression had returned to his face and the little boy at bat shifted around nervously. “Well, if nothing else that expression he inherited from you helps intimidate the other team,” the girl giggled, earning an eye roll and a sigh from her husband. “What? You know it’s true! That boy is your son through and through.” 

“Better that than a dummy like his mother,” Victor teased, giving her a squeeze. She feigned offense, leaning forward out of his arms for a moment before giggling and laying back again. “Oh, here we go.” Victor’s proud eyes settled on his son as he wound up his arm and released his first pitch, sending the ball sailing directly over the plate. The little batter swung hard in a total miss. “Yes! That’s my boy!” Victor shouted, causing his wife to giggle at his enthusiasm.

“I never thought I’d see the LFG CEO cheering loudly at a little league game,” she teased, shifting their daughter to Victor’s lap so she could settle against him more comfortably. He wrapped his free arm around little Cleo, who immediately grabbed his long fingers and began chewing on his knuckle. 

Victor shrugged and ruffled Cleo’s hair softly with his breath. “I never imagined my son would choose sports over books either, but here we are.” 

“There’s nothing wrong with a little boy doing little boy things. I’m sure he’ll be just as smart as his daddy someday too. For now, let’s just let him be a child. We already saved the world, after all. There’s no reason for him to grow up as fast as we had to.” 

A sigh escaped Victor’s lips and he nodded, the lighthearted atmosphere of the tournament dampened somewhat by the turn in the conversation. Victor held his little family close and continued to watch his son, the ghost of his past superimposed with the vision of the future held in the boy’s eyes. He ruminated over his wife’s words, realizing she was right. Perhaps…it would be alright to let Little Vic stay little as long as possible. After all, who knew how long the little league tournaments, warm bear hugs from tiny arms, and badly drawn crayon pictures proudly displayed on the fridge door would last? 

The game ended and Little Vic returned to his family’s side, cookie frosting on his face and a juice box in his hand. He wrapped his arms around his mother’s neck and grabbed his father’s hand with his own sticky fingers. “I’m sorry we didn’t win, Daddy…I did everything you taught me and we still only tied. I’ll do better next time!” 

Victor shifted Cleo to his wife’s lap and sat Little Vic on his knee, running his fingers through that familiar dark hair. “Son, I’m going to give you a bit of advice that took me a long, long time to learn. Some things just can’t be won alone. Sometimes you need someone to help you, or even an entire team of someones to help you reach your goals. Do you understand what I’m saying?” The little boy shifted on his father’s knee and shrugged, his little eyes focused intently on his father’s face. Victor chuckled and planted a kiss on Little Vic’s forehead. “That’s alright. I’m proud of you, son. Someday you’ll understand. Now, how about we go to Souvenir for lunch?” 

“Can we have pudding?!” Little Vic exclaimed, jumping down from Victor’s knee and looking up with hopeful eyes. Victor sighed that helpless little sigh and nodded, taking Cleo in his arms so his wife could stand more easily. 

“I suppose so. Grab your sister’s bag and let’s go back to the car. Wipe your face while you walk!” With Cleo in one arm and his wife’s hand in his, Victor ambled across the grass with his heart bursting. He couldn’t imagine a fuller or more beautiful day than this, with the sun shining on his little family and more love surrounding him than he could ever have wished for.

[ookybatt]

can i have a madeleine cookie x depressed reader oneshot??? is fine if you can't do it

I should be asleep but instead I'm doing requests<3

Its 1am and I have school today but fuck it. Request time!

Also if your request hasn't been done yet, it's because I'm going though the easier to harder requests :)

Tw: depression, self harm, Suicidal thoughts, violence

Madeleine x depressed!reader

I have been feeling like shit but that never changed.

Y/N's pov

I couldn't even get out of bed at the moment.

It pains me to think that this is how I live. This is how I was going to live if nothing could save me.

I feel bad. Not for myself but for Madeleine. He wants an s/o that's happy and wanting to go on adventures but I'm just laying here, an empty shell of a human being.

He's probably out finding someone new. I wouldn't be surprised at this point.

I just feel so useless. Maybe I should break up with Madeleine and let him be free to find someone better. I felt pain in my chest thinking about it.

I'm too attached to Madeleine but I'm running out of time.

My life is like an hourglass, slowly running out and losing more and more of my reasons to live.

My time was going to be cut short and nothing could stop it.

I always have the urge to swallow pills or to stab myself until my organs are spilled on the floor or even to jump off the highest building in this damned kingdom.

But I couldn't.

What was stopping me though?

That dumb tall blondie.

Everytime I think of suicide, the thought of him holding my dead body comes to mind.

It breaks my slowly dying heart.

I love when he's with me. It makes me feel something for once instead of being alone with this horrible emptiness.

He keeps me alive.

I'm just too paranoid and anxious to admit it.

I think he had caught onto my happy act. I'd seen the worried and desperate glances he gave me everytime he was with me.

I think Espresso has something to do with it.

Espresso was the first person I had told after I got diagnosed since he also had diagnosed depression. He hadn't promised not to tell anybody so i guess it's also my own fault.

My head turned to my bedside table where my razor blade sat.

I reached towards the blade and held it in my hands, sitting up to get a closer and more observant look at the small shiny weapon.

I nod at myself silently, agreeing with nobody but myself that I was allowed to do this.

I press the thin metal blade against my skin and drag it across my skin swiftly.

The wounds always stung for a minuet or two but it hurt less if I forgot about them.

I repeatedly drag the blade across my already scarred wrists.

I don't know how Madeleine hasn't found out yet. Maybe its because my arms are always covered by the fabric of my clothes.

I sigh, finishing my bloody artwork. The razor I had used serves me no use at this moment anymore so i simply hid it under a sheet of paper that was laying on my bedside table.

At least Madeleine doesn't know.

Suddenly, I got shocked by hearing the loud, booming footsteps walking towards my bedroom door.

The only people who had access to my house were the two I didn't want to see.

It's either Madeleine or Espresso.

Espresso only visits me on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays though and it was a dull Saturday morning.

That could only mean one thing.

Madeleine burst though my door, wearing no armour or anything protective.

He had worry painted on his beautiful face.

I think he knows.

Madeleine looks down at my revealed and bloody wrists and his eyes widen.

After a few seconds, which felt like a lifetime, Madeleine looked up at me with tears.

The image of Madeleine crying was too much to handle in my mind right now so I simply looked away.

He walked to me, sitting carefully in front of me on the bed. Madeleine's large hand held my smaller one and turns my arm the other way up so he had a better view of my artwork.

Madeleine was, for once, speechless. He just stared at my cuts with tears in his beautiful blue eyes.

"Oh my love.." Madeleine practically grabs me and pulls me into a hug, holding my head and laying if on his shoulder carefully.

I had not expected this but it was a pleasant surprise. I hug him back, not wanting to talk about what he just saw moments ago.

"My love, what have I not been doing to cause you to do this to yourself? I've tried my hardest to be there for you and make you smile but I'm always put on the hardest quests so I rarely have time to visit you. I practically ran here after what Espresso told me had been going on." He put his hands on my cheeks, cupping my face.

I hadn't realised I was crying until I felt Madeleine wipe away one of my tears with his thumb.

"It's not you Madeleine. It never has been. It's my own fault for feeling like this." He shakes his head. "I know you like keeping secrets but this mustn't be kept a secret. I need to know whats wrong so I can help you. I will take all the time in the world off from work if it means your okay."

I felt myself tear up more so I hug him tight, crying into his shoulder.

I'm such an asshole.

I should be grateful to have him, not wanting him to be free.

I spent the next hour or two explaining to Madeleine my problems and he just sat and listened, wanting to know more about my sadness.

When I had finished, Madeleine was holding my now bandaged hands and rubbing our thumbs together.

"You should never, and I mean never, be afraid to reach out. Whether that be to me or professional help, you need to tell someone. I know you and Espresso had conversations about this before but he can't give any help other than coffee related help. That sod is useless towards feelings." I smile at him and kiss him, stopping him from badmouthing Espresso again.

I felt Madeleine smile into the kiss and hold me close.

A/N: AAA THIS IS SO LONG AND SORRY FOR ANY SPELLING MISTAKES<\3

Maybe I should stay.

[jabbagabba]

La La Land

Read Prologue

Warning ⚠️

Triggering subjects: disassociation, manipulation, mind control, grief. (READ AT OWN RISK)

Wandavision: spoilers (up to episode 6 - just to be safe), violence

———

Pools Of Despair

You weren’t sure how long it’d been, the drive feeling as though it had taken a lifetime. It might have been just down the road and you wouldn’t have been able to tell; time seemed to move torturously slow under Wanda’s control.

She tried to keep herself calm besides your frozen body, already thinking of a way out as she turned the steering wheel. But it was too late to go back.

‘No other way. No other way.’ The words replayed over and over in her head as she finally made it to the front of the building, and it was the first time she fully looked at you. Your face was stoic, the only sign of life being the soft breaths escaping your mouth. You couldn’t look at her - even if you wanted to - and as she reached a hand to your face, the feeling of complete numbness returned.

During the drive there had been small moments of clarity; moments where for the first time you felt in control. It was almost euphoric being able to push through the fog.

But then, as quickly as it had subsided, she would crawl her way back in.

Even now as she turned you toward her fully, you tried to swim through the heaviness, but the black swirls of grief and anguish just got tighter the harder you fought.

Wanda sighed in annoyance. “You can’t go in looking like that.” She pulled at a strand of her hair with a small huff. “Need glasses.”

You were sure if you had control of your body, the pain of your neck would be unbearable, the awkward angle surely making every muscle strain as you were forced to watch her pull apart the car.

This had to have been owned by the only man on the planet that didn’t carry sunglasses in their car. Wanda almost laughed, a punishment for stealing it? She couldn’t be sure.

“Well...” Wanda pulled the blue and white baseball cap by the brim from under her seat. “Better then nothing.” She gave a small smile as she adjusted it on your head, pulling back and grabbing your hand and letting it rest in her lap. “If there was any other way, I swear, I would let you go. But... I just... I can’t live without him.”

You said nothing as she cried.

———

“Head down, get Vision. Leave.” Her voice plagued your every step, each word carved into your brain as you finally reached the front desk.

‘Sword’ was a nice place - or at least had nice flooring - and from the bright light that filled each and every inch of the glossy tile, you knew there had to be a lot of glass. It was a government building after all.

“Can I help you?” Her voice is chirpy, a polite smile painted on her lips, you don’t need to see her eyes to know it wasn’t anything but genuine. She lets the wheels of her chair carry her forward, her computer forgotten besides her as you near the desk.

“Do you have... a meeting?” She smiles again, more forced and you’re able to see the golden pin on her chest that proudly says ‘Mary’ and try once more to float above the darkness.

“I -“ The word leaves your lips aprubtly and the fight drains from you just as fast. “I’m here to inquire about some of my father’s equipment. I’d like it back.” You let the darkness swallow you whole.

“And who are you again?” Mary is quick to pull her deskphone to her ear, hand hovering over the numbers.

———

The name that fell from her lips made Mary freeze. She looked up with wide eyes, both fearful and exited.

Starks were top priority at ‘SWORD’ - she was sure they were top priority everywhere - and as she desperately tried to recall if her boss mentioned anything about Stark equipment, the girl’s patients quickly wore thin.

“Can you please just tell me where to go? I have a long drive ahead of me.” Her voice was a sharp contrast from her apparance. The girl’s voice was stern and loud while her body was scrunched in on itself, eyes glued to the desk. Mary took a glance over the desk and saw the dark fabric of a dress, the hat didn’t even match the girl’s shoes.

“Right.” Mary said. “I’m sorry, just a little... starstruck.” She tried to keep her cool, turning again in her chair and started typing as fast as possible on her little keyboard. The atmosphere was thick with uncomfortable silence and Mary had to make sure not to shiver in the girl’s presence. She scrolled down the list of names and let out a small “ah” when she found your name. Just as quickly as she clicked on it, a pop up window filled the screen

STARK - Access Denined. Call Security

She felt sick; her nerves making her skin pucker as she tried to keep calm. When Mary finally found the courage to move, bile reached through her throat as she saw red eyes looking back.

“Ahh!” Mary was quick to jump out of her chair.

“Fine.” The girl sighed, hand flat on the counter as she took long strides around it. “If you won’t help me.” A red trail flowed through one of the doors; slithering like a snake as it wrapped around the shell shocked receptionist. “I’ll do it myself.”

———

Wanda’s mind had warped, grief and anger become one as she ripped through each and every room of the building. No one was safe from the witch’s wrath as she swung them through various glass panels and equipment. By the third turn she took, guards had given up, opting to instead try desperately to get out of her way.

She had left you at the desk, too transfixed to care and as she heard the various shouts of alarm from down the hallway, she was glad you weren’t in her way.

———

The group of four man were shocked; watching as the two guards dropped their guns and put their hands up for mercy.

“We’ll give you what you want. Please!” One of them - Felix - cried as the woman barreled through the double doors.

Wanda simply flicked her hand and he was sent flying to a wall, his partner following.

“Where is he?” Her accent was thick and the youngest tech almost asked her to repeat herself. “Where is Vision?” The stunned silence only fueled her anger. “You.” Red swirled under one of the men’s feet and lifted him from the ground. “Where?”

If the man could have, he’d be shivering in fear right about now. His life was in the hands of a deranged woman who with a simple flick of her wrist could send him plummeting down ten floors.

Wanda tightened her hold on him in warning and he knew he had to speak.

“Behind us.” He said. “There is a set of double doors, turn left and there’s an examination room.”

“He should be there!” A colleague on his left was shaking as she turn to face him. “He’s not lying.” Wanda let her power swim under him once more beofre gently letting him go.

“Thank you.” She gave a small smile. “Now, go.”

They didn’t have to be told twice.

———

Wanda felt as though she couldn’t breathe, the sight of her dead lover on the table was crippling. Vision was a dark grey; his eyes blank as they stared into her. If it wasn’t for the table itself she would have probably collapsed on to the floor as sobs took over her.

“I cant. I can’t. I -“ The words fell from her lips like a mystical chant. She couldn’t look at him anymore, his body was nothing but an empty shell of parts.

When her body turned to ash; Wanda was ready to die, her last shred of humanity died with Vision. The battlefield would be her final resting place. She chose to spend her last moments hoping that If there was a God that they’d be merciful, that she’d be allowed to spent her afterlife in blissful ignorance.

But instead she woke up.

Five years had passed and she was still there, only now she was alone. It was only after the death of Tony Stark that she let the floodgate of loss fill up her veins. While Thanos was alive, she had a mission; kill him and reverse the snap.

Wanda never imagined the pain that followed. She should have died that day, why couldn’t she have died that day?

Grief had a knack for turning the strongest people into helpless pools of despair.

Vision deserved better. That was what go her up, got her to calm her tears and push herself up. She wasn’t going to let them win. Vision was hers to mourn, to love, and hers to take care of.

She had a new mission, one that was stronger then her need to submit to pain.

But... she needed help carrying him.

———

Your body moved through the halls, following the tethered rope of energy that wrapped around your waist. If it wasn’t for your boots, your feet would have been covered in cuts from the sharp edges of the broken glass that filled the hallways.

The fog had cleared more then before and if you tried hard enough, you might’ve even been able to pull free completely. Wanda was exhausted and the fight had been ripped from you So you let her pull you, let the fog seep through every inch of you.

And as you entered the small room, you forgot you were suppose to care anymore.

“I need you to hold onto his legs.” She said softly, hand stroking his cheek. “Easier to carry both of you.” Your body moved again and you placed a gentle hand onto vision’s ankle.

Wanda wiped the last of her tears away, grabbed onto his arm, and all three of you were lifted off the ground.

———

Hot air blew through Wanda’s hair making her hands continuously push back strands from her face as she walked. The afternoon sun was unrelenting and she had to take several short breaks.

The car was too dangerous to return to - a swarm of agents was not something she wanted to deal with - and controlling someone for almost 24 hour straight took a lot out of her. Her hold on you was weak enough for you to sometimes fully take over, her control turning into a dull ache at the back of your brain.

As she walked in front of you thoughts of running flooded through your brain but the walking had tired your body out, and you were sure that if her little pushes weren’t there, you’d have already collapsed. Even if you had the strength to do it, the empty roads had long ago turned into tall trees and bush. You were in the middle of nowhere and getting loss in the woods with a heartbroken witch was not something you wanted to deal with. So, like a trained puppy, you followed silently behind Vision’s dragging body. It wasn’t hard to keep up, she was as slow as she could be while Vision’s body left a dirt trail.

“Break.” Wanda breathed. Who knew an empty little spot of grass would be so inviting? “Sit.” You felt a small push and follow it down to the ground. You let your fingers grip the direr under them, the cool breeze making you sigh.

“Where-“ The sound of your voice startled both of you but she stayed still. “Where are we going?”

She said nothing, choosing to instead turn on her knees and pull Vision forward by the arms.

“When I was little-“ Wanda smiled to herself as she stared down at Vision. “- I use to dream about this field. Me and Peitro went past it everyday during the summer. It had all these small flowers growing.” You listen intently as she giggles, eyes losing focus as she is hit with the memory. “I always tried to sneak past the fence... but, I was alway stopped by someone.” Her mouth twitches and you feel the pulsing return in your neck. “It’s probably nothing but dirt now, like everything.”

“Where are we going, Wanda?” You try to keep your voice soft, afraid of ruining the small moment as you reached out for her but she was quick to stop you, hand glowing red and inches away from your face.

“Don’t.” She warns. You nod in silent apology.

“We’re not far from a road.” Wanda let’s her hand fall back to her side. “I want you go and call whoever you need to.” You’re almost startled when her control leaves fully from your body, it almost feels empty. “Tell them what I did, or don’t, I don’t care. I have what I want.”

“Wanda -“

“Please.” The crack in her voice makes tears pool in your eyes. “Just go.”

You stand on shaking legs. The world was spinning and you felt as though you had just gotten off a rollercoaster but you tried to steady yourself. Unsure of where to go, you turn to her once more for guidance and she simply points behind you.

Your conscious wouldn’t let you leave. Wanda was tired and you were afraid of leaving her alone. Regardless of what she did; you knew you couldn’t blame her, she had lost everyone.

In a way, so did you.

“I’m sorry about Vision.” Wanda looked up again and gave you a small nod. “About Pietro, about everyone. I wish it was different.”

“Me too, Stark.” She let her fingers wrap around your hand and squeezed. The warmth from the dock returned and you couldn’t help but give her a small grin of gratitude. “I meant what I said at the funeral.”

Both of you were so wrapped up in your own little bubble, you didn’t even question why the birds stopped.

————

Tag list (open, just ask)

@white-wolf-buckaroo @y-napotat

All my stuff is open, and I’m always happy to hear from people so feel free to let me know what ya thought. I always get stuck halfway through writing but I hope it wasn’t too hard to read.

Next chapter will be fun.

[jokertrap-ran]

(光与夜之恋 Light and Night) Evan’s 6✩ Inspiration: Twilight Facet [暮光之境] Date Translation (END 5+6: Heart-throb)

“I offer you my hand, my heart, my everything; are you willing to believe me?”

*Light and Night Master-list | Evan’s Personal Masterlist *Spoiler free: Translations will remain under cut *Join the Light & Night Discord (＾▽＾)~ ♪ *6✩ Inspirations have 6 Endings!! *CG Image used with permission from 蓝咕咕 ☆ *Evan’s tag will be #For Night, For Revolution

✥ Choice: Heart-throb [心动] ✩Light & Night★

it was the perfect time for a lunchtime nap. I…

✩ E5 LIGHT: Ask about his other bedtime habits ✩

I leaned closer to Evan out of curiosity.

MC: Then, do you have anything else prepared other than the aromatherapy? Or… are there any other rules about this stuff set in place?

Evan pauses for a moment, not saying anything.

His eyes were bright, but also as deep as an abyss. It made me tempted to venture further into it, yet I didn't dare proceed any more than half a step.

After staying in place for a few seconds, I suddenly came to the startling realization of just how close I was to him. My body couldn't help but stiffen as I carefully retracted my neck as I inched backwards.

I leaned so close to him and even asked him such a personal question. Will he think that I'm…

Evan: Are you really that interested in these things?

MC: I just wanted to understand you a little more…

I was so embarrassed that I didn't look at him at all. I kept my head lowered, my face a burning mess.

Evan chuckled lightly. His voice was as deep as ever, and it felt pleasant to the ears.

Evan: Then, I'm glad that you're the one who's trying to understand me.

Evan: But, they're all merely small habits that have followed me through childhood. Take this for example…

He picked up the delicate, yet exquisite cup, shaking the red liquid within.

Evan: This here’s called Hereafter. I started drinking it ever since I was a kid, and it has stuck with me ever since. Now, I need this to sleep.

Evan: I wasn't willing to, at first;  but I slowly got used to it.

I nodded in understanding. After thinking about it for a while, I picked up the teapot and filled his cup with more of said drink.

MC: Then you should finish these off properly.

Evan: Very well.

He picked up the cup and took a sip before pausing. He looked at me a little hesitantly, a conflicted expression on his face.

MC: ...Why are you looking at me like that?

Evan: This is… a little too thick.

MC: Ah! I forgot to add water to it earlier. Sorry, sorry…

I quickly added hot water into his cup and stirred it before handing it back to him. However, his brow furrowed a little after just a sip.

Evan: It's a little too hot now.

MC: I'll blow on it for you!

I took the cup over from him without another word, blowing gently on it. It was only after I'd done it a couple of times that I heard a sudden laugh coming from him.

I froze, looking back at him in suspicion.

He was unable to wipe the smile off his face, leaning affectionately into the sofa as he observed me. His eyes sparkled with glee.

MC: ...You…

I looked at the cup and back to him again. Something clicked in my head.

Is he doing this on purpose?

He chuckled lightly, swiftly taking the cup from my grasp and gracefully downing it in one fell swoop.

Evan: Thank you. Now everything's in place.

MC: ……

He's DEFINITELY doing it on purpose!

I helped him close the curtains after he’d finished up his special drink.

MC: Is there anything else that you'd like prepared, Sir?

Evan looked at me, hesitating for a while before shaking his head.

Evan: That's all there is. Thank you.

I glanced at his dark red tie.

MC: How about I help you take off your tie then? I'm sure it'll be uncomfortable to sleep in.

Evan: ……

MC: ……

An awkward silence lapsed between us. It took some time before the realization that I’d just said something really inappropriate hit me...

I hurriedly averted my gaze away from his tie.

MC: Ahaha… What nonsense am I spouting now…

Evan: Sure.

MC: Huh?

Evan: I'll have to trouble you to help me get it off then. Thank you.

MC: ...Okay.

A warm smile slowly filtered into his orbs as he removed his gold-rimmed glasses. He slowly stood up from his reclining position and moved to stand before me.

He was tall and his shadow almost completely enveloped me. My breathing involuntarily stuttered.

I raised my head and reached upwards, carefully starting to work the knot out.

Looks like he did his tie with an exceptionally complicated knot today. I had a go at it for quite some time, but to no avail.

Evan: Is it hard to undo?

MC: A-A little… Erm, could you… bend down a little?

Evan: Alright… Looks like it was a lack of consideration on my part.

He gave an apologetic smile, moving closer to me and leaning further down.

That slightly smiling face of his suddenly drew up close. My brain blanked out, and I could do nothing but stare dumbly at him.

Evan: Will this do?

MC: ……

My breath hitched in my throat. I hurriedly averted my gaze, frantically nodding as I reached out to have another go at his tie.

However, the knot didn't budge at all no matter how hard I tried. It was almost as if the thing had a grudge on me. I couldn't help but feel a little upset at my futile efforts.

Evan: Looks like this doesn't work either. Then, how about...

The words had only just left his mouth when he suddenly reached over. He wrapped his arm around my waist and hoisted me up!

MC: !!!

I jolted. Startled by the sudden movement, I instinctively clung to him, wrapping my arms around his neck and earning another chuckle from him.

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

Carrying me, Evan retreated a couple of steps backwards. He seated himself on the side of the bed with me sitting sideways atop his thigh. He held my hand and brought it up to his collar which was already loose and dishevelled.

MC: Evan…

Evan: It should be much easier now. Try again?

There was a pleasantly warm smile on his face, but it was hard to ignore the firm chest pressed up to my palm, rising and falling in time with his breathing.

This is all to undo his tie, right? Still, this position is a little…

I bit my lip and tried to calm my rapid breathing. I tentatively moved a little, only to feel his entire body suddenly stiffen in response.

I stiffened as well, freezing in place. I didn't dare move an inch.

It was a few seconds later that his voice sounded in my ears again.

Evan: Are you going to start?

MC: ...Yeah.

I tried my hardest to shelve the wild thought that had taken refuge in my head as my trembling hands took hold of his tie once more.

After composing myself, I was soon able to undo his tie. I also helped him unbutton the first button of his dress shirt.

And just like that, his pretty and prominent collarbones were revealed to my eye. Going further up was his adam's apple that bobbed ever so occasionally. And going further down would be his chest, which my hand was currently pressed against, rising and falling with his every breath.

The muscles beneath my touch were firm but relaxed, rippling beneath his skin as if waiting for the perfect chance to come into play. This side of Evan was one unknown to me; one that screamed danger. Yet, it was still deadly attractive. I couldn't stop my face from flushing scarlet once more.

MC: Um… your tie's undone now… You can rest easy

Evan: I'm in no hurry. Besides, this makes up the last of my bedtime habits.

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

Evan: Now, how about you tell me about your bedtime habits?

MC: My bedtime habits?

I stared into his deep orbs. The ghost of a familiar melody sounded by my ears, soft and gentle.

It was the song that my grandmother used to sing to me before bed as a kid. Recalling these softened my heart and made me feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

MC: My grandmother used to hum to me.

Evan: A lullaby?

MC: Yup! But not just lullabies! Sometimes it's a traditional folk song, and sometimes it’s a western nursery rhyme.

MC: I recall there being one with really odd lyrics about how a leopard fell in love with a foxface rabbitfish.

MC: The foxface rabbitfish asked the leopard if it wanted to go down to the sea and see how it was like. The leopard agreed.

MC: And then they both lived happily ever after together at the bottom of the sea.

MC: Strange, isn’t it? I mean, how can a leopard live under the sea?

Evan: ...What if it's possible?

MC: Huh?

I looked towards Evan. His eyes were slightly drooping, his eyelashes casting small shadows upon his features. I couldn’t read his expressions all that well.

It was a while before he looked back at me again. This time, with his beautiful eyes fully open, and the corners of his lips curled into his usual smile.

Evan: Can you sing it to me?

MC: Yeah… Sure thing.

I softly sang him that weird nursery rhyme of mine, again and again, in a never-ending loop.

I didn’t know how many times I sang the whole rhyme in succession; but just as I stopped once more at the part where the foxface rabbitfish asked the leopard whether it wanted to visit the sea, Evan’s head suddenly fell onto the crook of my neck.

MC: !!

The nursery rhyme came to an abrupt stop as my ears were slowly filled with another sound.

It was the sound of his long and steady breathing, gently sounding in my ears. Soon, it permeated through my thin clothes, melting into my skin. His hair was soft and a little ticklish as it brushed against my neck, making my heart pound in unrest.

Our surroundings were silent, with only the soft crackling of the fireplace and the intoxicating fragrance that wafted in the air.

It felt like it was going to be a long, long time before this nap was over.

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

it was the perfect time for a lunchtime nap. I…

★ E6 NIGHT: Don't hold him up from his afternoon nap ★

It just so happens that it's the perfect time for a lunchtime nap now…

MC: Am I getting in the way of your rest? I'll wait for you out in the hall then. Have a good nap!

With that said, I moved to head out to the hall. However, I hadn't yet gotten a step further before Evan caught me by the wrist.

Evan: Wait.

The unique temperature of his body slowly spreads upon my skin. His touch brought about a slight coolness, momentarily freezing me in place.

MC: ...What's up?

I secretly peeked at the hand he used to hold onto mine. His fingers were pale and long, but there was an undeniable strength behind them. It unwittingly made people a little nervous.

Evan: I was just going to tell you that I don't intend to take an afternoon nap at all today. But what I do have, is an important document that needs my signature.

MC: Uh… I'll still wait for you out in the hall?

Evan: You can just stay here.

MC: Won't I disturb you?

Evan: You won't. I'm more worried that you'd find it boring here.

Evan: The other door in my room connects to my Study. You can go there and kill time if you feel bored.

Now that he mentions it… I do recall seeing a heavy wooden door on the other side of his bedroom…

MC: Ohh… I'll go check out your Study then!

Evan: Sure. I'll go look for you once I'm done.

MC: Okey-dokey!

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

A step into the study was all it took for me to be completely blown away by what awaited inside.

MC: Jesus Christ. These bookshelves span several walls… Who in the world has this many books in their study? It’s kind of amazing in its own right...

And it wasn’t just the bookshelves. There was also a large projector screen on the other end of the study that nearly covered the entire wall.

MC: I’d probably disrupt his work if I watch a movie here… Guess I’ll be better off looking for a book.

But rather than searching the shelves in search of a book, the thought of just what books he'd have in here intrigued me further.

MC: Wow, the bottom few shelves are filled with the biographies of famous people, mystery novels, travel guides… He even has picture books here!

MC: I never knew that he reads such a wide array of books. I wonder if the upper shelves will yield any new discoveries?

I took the stepladder that was placed not too far off and climbed up on it. I excitedly continued my perusal of what books his shelves offered. After a considerable amount of effort, I managed to pull out a thin and old book from amongst a couple of thick books on the history of music.

MC: “Jane Eyre”? Huh…? Was “Jane Eyre” supposed to be this thin, again? And it looks pretty well-thumbed too...

Curious, I opened it.

This was an incomplete copy of "Jane Eyre". There were thick scars on the spine of the book, formed from having its pages torn out. Someone had ripped out nearly ¾ of the book's contents.

Flipping it open, the very first page detailed the part where Jane Eyre wished to leave Thornfield Hall after learning that Rochester was about to get married. Conflicted with her turmoil of emotions, Jane walks to Mr. Rochester's orchard. She'd intended to sneak away as if she was never there, only to be halted by Rochester. And in the end, they finally managed to understand their true feelings for each other under the moonlight, in the eventide breeze that was tinged with the fragrance of jasmine interlaced with roses.

But why does this book start from here? What happened to all the content in front?

Evan: What book is it that has gotten you so engrossed?

MC: !

The low voice that suddenly sounded by my ear made my breathing hitch. Turning around, I hurriedly hid the book behind my back, just like how one would when the teacher found out that they were secretly reading a book in class.

Evan, dressed only in a white dress shirt, was looking at me with a smile that reached his eyes. He wasn't wearing his glasses, and the warmth in his eyes that were normally hidden behind the lenses now faced me in full force.

MC: ...You… You're done with work?

Evan smiled, reaching out to help me adjust the hemline of my skirt that had gotten slightly rumpled.

Evan: Yes. So, what were you reading?

MC: This.

I brought the book I'd hidden behind me back out front.

Evan: Jane Eyre.

His low and pleasantly smooth voice intonated, seemingly touching my very heart. It was like magic; one that miraculously made my heart race.

Evan looked back up at me after reading the title. He had a knowing look in his eyes that was soon disrupted by a flicker of mischief.

I didn't know why, but I didn't quite dare to look up at him right now.

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

Evan: “I believe you must leave now. I am sorry, but I believe indeed you must.”

MC: Huh? ...O-Oh, I’ll leave now…

Evan: “Exactly, precisely: with your usual acuteness, you have hit the nail straight on the head.”

This… sounds like the lines I’ve just read in “Jane Eyre”...?

Deep down, Jane truthfully didn't want to leave. However, Mr. Rochester had already arranged everything for her departure.

Her job, her destination, and even her future to come.

Evan: “Do you like Ireland? ...You’ll like Ireland, I think.”

He spoke with a low voice, looking at me with a sort of seriousness that I’d never seen before.

It felt as if that line wasn’t from Rochester, directed to Jane; but rather, from Evan to me.

Confounded, I slowly opened my mouth to respond to him.

MC: “It is a long way off, sir. Not the voyage, but the distance: and then the sea is a barrier—”

Evan: "From what, hm?”

MC: “From England and from Thornfield: and一 From you, Sir.”

The words had just left my lips when Evan reached a hand out, bringing it up to my waist. Just a little bit of strength behind his fingertips was all it took for him to hoist me upwards, pressing my upper body closer to him.

Suddenly, the distance between us disappeared. We were so close that our breaths intermingled.

Evan: “I sometimes have a queer feeling with regard to you— especially when you are near me, as now.”

Evan: “Are you anything akin to me, do you think?”

He gazed at me, his breath brushing across my skin in a manner as intoxicating as wine, effectively sending my rationality out of the window.

I gaped in an attempt to say something. However, my words were eviscerated into nothing by the deep red hue in his eyes.

We stared at each other as we stood within the tall and large study filled with the scent of ink. It felt like we were nothing but the small minuscule dust particles that filtered in with the sun’s rays.

So small, so minuscule that it was almost non-existent; yet still able to hang onto the other, while adrift, fluttering all the same.

Evan: “I offer you my hand, my heart, my everything.”

Evan: “Are you willing to believe me?”

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

My heart thudded heavily in my chest. It felt as if time had come to a stand-still.

I lost myself in the moment, forgetting who I was or where I was. The only thing I wanted to do now was to entrust my heart to him in all its genuineness, and to stay in this beautiful and pleasant moment forever.

According to the story, this was when Jane and Rochester finally gained a mutual understanding of their emotions for each other, sharing a long passionate kiss.

Evan's eyes lowered, coming to a slight close. His fine lashes fluttered downwards as the pale yellow light illuminated his face, casting small beautiful shadows upon his features. He slightly turned his head, the breath that had been one with mine shifting. It brushed against my face, hot and ticklish.

My body seemingly loses the ability to move, and all I could do was stare dumbfoundedly at the face with well-defined features slowly advancing closer.

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

At the very last second, I hurriedly covered my face with the book that I'd let rest against my chest in a desperate act.

And in turn, blocking off what could have happened; something that was capable of making my heart stop beating right then and there.

The air was filled with a moment of silence that was soon broken by Evan's laughter.

MC: You…

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

I slowly and carefully lowered the book that'd been covering my face. I watched as Evan lowered his head, leaning it against the crook of my neck as he laughed, shoulders quaking in his mirth.

MC: Stop… stop laughing at me…

Evan: Okay, no laughing.

Evan: ...I'm really happy, (Y/n).

Evan's laughter slowly died off, but his head remained firmly planted onto my shoulder. I quietly relished in the moment of intimate contact with burning cheeks.

MC: Erm… Why’s this book missing so many pages?

Evan: This belonged to my mother. It was already in this state when I first saw it.

Oh, so that’s how it is. Then… perhaps it’s because his mother liked how brave Jane was in this part of the story?

MC: She dared defy; she dared to love.

Evan: Yes. Although, I think my mother will definitely like you much more if she had the chance to meet you.

MC: But… I’m nowhere near as brave as Jane.

He gave a small chuckle before letting go of my shoulder, watching me with a profound look in his eyes. It was as if the Evan that had been reciting Mr. Rochester’s lines had made a comeback.

In the same manner, as Rochester would gaze affectionately at Jane… No. No, that wasn’t it… Those eyes, that gaze… It was Evan who was looking at me so.

Reflected within his orbs were twin silhouettes of me.

He patted my head, his low and intoxicating voice taking on a slightly far-away tone, yet still managing to grace my ears.

Evan: My liking you has absolutely nothing to do with “Jane Eyre”.

Evan: You are (Y/n), and I am Evan. Nothing more, nothing less.

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

Time flew past.

The glow of the sunset had begun to set in when Aunt Wang finally sent up my dry-cleaned clothes.

Seeing her so busy, I couldn't help feeling a tinge of regret at being the cause of it.

MC: I've brought so much trouble for them both… I should do something to thank them well next time!

Evan looked at me and closed the book in his hand.

Evan: They're usually the only ones here, so it'll do them a little good to be busy once in a while.

Evan: Having something to do would also make it feel all the more fulfilling.

MC: Mmhm… But I can't help but feel like they're already busy even without us, and now that we're here…

MC: Plus Uncle Chen looked like he was in a huge hurry when I took upon the task of sending the drink for him. It was like he was here for a moment, and gone like the wind in the next.

A flicker of doubt appears on Evan's face upon hearing this.

Evan: Is he truly that busy?

MC: Yeah, he is… He had to rush here to deliver your drink, and he also had to rush over to give the fireplace a change of coal.

MC: Plus, this is also one huge place. Even with the two of them here, they must be pretty busy keeping this place all neat and tidy.

Evan: They do have their work cut out for them, but…

Evan: I seem to recall that we do have scheduled professionals who come by to take care of the fireplace here, so there's no need for either of them to do it themselves.

MC: ...Huh? But he said…

A strange thought suddenly struck me, the realization making the words die in my throat.

Did Uncle Chen make me… bring Evan's drink to him on purpose?

I stared at Evan, absolutely dumbfounded.

He didn't say anything either, only chuckling lightly after a few seconds.

Evan: I suppose, sometimes, having a fireplace at home isn't all that bad.

He'd said it all so naturally, yet I couldn't help but feel like there was something a little off about it. Especially when it came to the word "fireplace". It unwittingly made me recall how oddly Uncle Chen and Aunt were acting… and their ambiguous smiles.

I silently adverted my gaze, biting on my lips as I spoke in barely a whisper.

MC: I'm definitely not getting a fireplace installed in my house next time…

Evan: Hm?

MC: Oh, nothing… nothing! I was just talking to myself!

Evan: That so?

Evan drew both of his arms up to his jaw, propping his chin on it as his heavy gaze fell upon my being.

Under the light of the setting sun, his expression was one of calm contentment and warmth.

He smiled, his voice a low baritone.

Evan: Your wish is my command. No fireplaces in the future.

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

✥ Choose another Ending:

END 1 | Choice: Do Nothing [都不做]  

END 2 + 3 | Choice: Approach [亲近] ⊹Touch⊹

END 4 | Choice: Listen [倾听] ❖ASMR

END 5 + 6 | Choice: Heart-throb [心动] ✩Light & Night★

❖☆————— ⊹ For Night, For Revolution⊹ —————★❖

Previous Part: Prologue

[rose7420]

Things Get Better

When Y/n gets hurt her only hope is with the god of mischief... requested by @lokiismyhubby

(Y/S/C)- Your skin color

Warnings: Some description about a broken bone

Y/n cradled her arm closely to her chest. While sneaking around, she had lost her balance on the third shelf of Loki’s bookcase. The little literature fanatic had become too enamored by the dozens of books upon the shelves. Now, while the shelf may have been knee height for his imposing frame the drop certainly wasn’t a short one for a person of Y/n’s stature. Her foot slipped off the side as she backed up just a little too far attempting to read the spine of an eye-catching book and consequently she fell towards the hard ground holding her arms out to break her fall. Her outstretched limbs prevented her face from slamming hard into the wood but took a lot of damage. Her arm was at a very unnatural angle, tender and warm to the touch. There was no way she’d be able to fix this on her own.

She looked over to Loki’s desk where he was slouched over, staring intently at papers before him with a scowl. His head was propped up by his hand, arm resting on the table. She took a deep breath and tip-toed her way towards him. A part of her wanted him to notice her steps and the other part wanted to dash in the opposite direction.

It didn’t take a genius to guess which instinct was stronger at the time for the borrower.

She had watched Loki for a while now. The man was intelligent, cunning, and mischievous. But she still trusted him for some unknown reason. Perhaps because of the way his green eyes never missed anything, or how she felt he knew what people were thinking with a glance. No matter the fact that she was pretty sure this man was a literal wizard.

No literally, she’d watched him make books and animals appear out of thin air. Or how he’d glamour himself as a completely different person on some occasions.

Now that was creepy… but cool.

She approached his black boot that was anxiously tapping away, sending tremors through her body. Her eyes followed the extent of his form. Even sitting his frame was unfathomably large, towering over her without effort. A shiver ran through her body as she thought of all the ways he could effortlessly kill her.

Suddenly, his foot shifted and came close to knocking little Y/n off her own feet. She squeaked in alarm, drawing the attention of the giant above.

Loki’s attention was lost from the paperwork in front of him and drawn to the noise he heard below him.

How odd, he thought.

Peering down at his feet, his eyes widened at the sight of a minuscule figure standing beside his boot.

“Oh my.” He whispered.

He slowly stood up out of his chair, towering over the little being. He quickly knelt down to lessen the distance between them. He reached out a curious hand but stopped his movement when the person shouted something he couldn’t make out. As he looked closer he saw that the person was a female, and seemed to be holding their arm as if she was injured.

“Are you hurt?” He asked.

The girl nodded, “Yes sir...I-I was hoping you could help me.” She stated with hesitancy, heart pounding. Could hearts pound out of your chest?

Hopefully not.

Loki’s tough facade softened immediately, knowing that such a tiny soul would ask him for help out of all people.

“Of course dear, let’s move to a different spot.” He lowered his palm before her, flattening his fingers to offer an easier step up.

Oh hell no, she thought; scrambling away from the outstretched hand.

“Hey now… I’m not going to hurt you. You asked for help, right? I’m here to help. I promise no foul play.”

He watched as she approached his hand cautiously and experimentally sunk her own hand into his skin. He held back a smile from the ticklish sensation. He was awed by the fact that this girl was no taller than his thumb, standing at most of two inches tall. She paused for a moment looking back up at Loki as if asking for permission. He nodded trying to lessen the intimidating expression he usually wore into a softer, more trustable one. Her tiny weight upon his palm tickled even more as she scooted closer to the middle of his hand. Seeing that she was settled, he curled his fingers around her but left her a good amount of breathing room.

“What’s your name dear?” He questioned, holding her at chest level.

He watched her mouth move not being able to hear her clearly. Slowly he raised his hand bearing her closer to his face, able to hear and see her clearly.

“I was not able to hear you down there, could you repeat that?” He said, missing how tense his simple movement had made the small girl.

“M-my name’s Y/n.” She stuttered, her hand of her uninjured arm twiddling with her threadbare shirt.

“Well Y/n, let’s get you fixed up, shall we?” He lowered his palm to the desk he was sitting at previously, removing all the papers with one large sweep of his arm.

Y/n was curious as to what the papers were for. She remembered watching him earlier and how agitated he’d looked while staring down at them.

“What are those papers for?” She asked innocently.

Loki looked at her confused as to why she would want to know as he sat down.

“Just paperwork.” He said simply.

Paperwork? What did that mean? Her confusion must’ve shown on her face when Loki spoke again.

“You do know what that is now Little One?”, humor coating his voice.

Rather embarrassed, Y/n’s cheeks flushed but she shook her head.

“Let me see your arm dear,” Loki ordered kindly, changing the subject. Y/n held it out hesitantly, the pain was almost unbearable as she moved the unstable limb. She cried out in pain, prompting Loki to lean in closer and pinch her slight wrist in his large fingers.

He was once again awed by how he couldn't even see the small hand between his fingers. He did however feel the dainty tendons and bones moving under his tender, gentle touch.

“How did you even manage to hurt yourself?” He asked with curiosity and worry.

“I fell off your shelf,” Y/n said meekly, ducking her head. Loki didn’t overlook her shyness, in fact, he wished to comfort her but he had to take care of the primary problem as of right now. He closed his eyes, imagining the bones mending back together and the arm reverting back to its (Y/S/C) tint. He opened his eyes and her arms were back to the original.

Y/n looked down at her arms in amazement. She turned her forearms upright and down. Looking up at Loki, who was already staring down at her she felt a smile stretch across her lips. Without thinking much of it, she jumped up enthusiastically and ran to his nearby hand. She threw her arms around his thumb.

“Thank you, Loki!”

Loki smiled and chuckled at the girl’s heartfelt actions. He curled his fingers in and wrapped her in a hug; the best he could offer at their different sizes.

“So Little One… you like books and you know my name; without me informing you of it… I must say you interest me very much so.”

Y/n immediately let go of his finger, backing away with dread. Before she got too far away she bumped into a wall… of skin? Loki’s hand blocked her from going any further, the huge palm thrice her own height.

“Why are you leaving?” He asked quizzically.

“Well, I invaded your privacy. I didn’t think humans liked that.” Y/n stated as a matter-of-fact her voice shaky.

“First of all… I am not a mortal or human as you say and secondly, it doesn’t bother me if you looked at my things. I’m rather happy to know someone likes literature as much as myself. Why don’t we settle down and find a good book to read?”

Y/n nodded still processing that he wasn’t human. That explained all the magic stuff. She watched as Loki strutted to the bookshelf bending down to look for the perfect book. Once he’d made his selection, he walked back to the desk and scooped Y/n up, holding her in a protective cave of fingers against his chest. He sat down on the plush bed and reclined his back against the headboard letting his legs stretch out. Y/n was astounded by how tall he was. The simple length of his legs surpassed her own house! He let Y/n crawl onto his chest, who found the fabric of his cotton shirt soft and warm. She snuggled in the blanket of his shirt and listened to him read. His voice was soothing as the deepness of it reverberated through her entire being. He let the book rest upon his upper stomach where she could see the page clearly but the words were still printed too big for her to read properly.

A little way into the story, an unfamiliar but pleasant sensation started on her back. She looked over her shoulder to see the tip of a large finger making circles on the itty width of her back. The rumbling beneath her stopped as Loki paused his reading. She turned all the way around, to face Loki. He stopped rubbing her back momentarily.

“Is everything all right?” He asked.

Y/n thought about that simple question. This kind giant had helped her immensely. The kindness in Loki’s heart surpassing even his immense stature. She smiled shyly back at him.

“Everything is all right.” And it truly was.

Thanks for reading! If you enjoyed like and reblog!

[hoe-doroki]

stay

A response to this ask:

Reader having a silent mental breakdown and trying to hide it with Bakugo and iida!( bakugo’s fine if not iida)

warning: detailed descriptions of panic attack, self-loathing

pairing: Bakugou x gn!reader

genre: hurt/comfort

word count: 2.2k

edit: I no longer write x reader but here’s my old masterlist - mobile | desktop

It seemed stupid to have any kind of mental illness around someone like Bakugou.

Bakugou had experienced near death multiple times by his mid-twenties had had witnessed the worst of the world first hand. His teens had been littered with trauma and, as an adult, his work was constantly throwing him into circumstances where his body, his life was at risk. He did this day in and day out and it wasn’t even a question. He survived it all and, more than that, he let the world think it was easy.

Sometimes just getting out of bed wasn’t easy for you.

You felt like your body was rotting. You’d been on the couch all day and it smelled stale from the layers of lazy sweat you’d gotten on it. From the shower you hadn’t taken and the hair you hadn’t touched. But was it rot from the outside in—something a bit of soap and buffing could slough off—or was it the inside out? Harder to reach, harder to fix. As your brain sent your every thought clenching on your veins, your vital organs, you couldn’t help but wonder if it was both. Rotted from the inside out and the outside in.

You tensed when you heard the door to your shared apartment click, a key being shoved into the lock. Over the cold numbness that you’d felt all day, a shot of panic sprinted through your bloodstream as a million ways to lie popped into your head. You popped off the couch and tried to think of a way to look busy, so you ran to the kitchen and started boiling some water.

This was something Bakugou couldn’t see. The last thing you wanted, the last thing he needed was for you to be another person that he had to save. Another person to risk himself for.

You eyed Bakugou when he came in, shoulders drooped, gait wide. He looked tired, but otherwise normal. You usually tried not to worry yourself with the cuts and scrapes he often showed up with after work, and, so long as he was walking, he usually told you to calm down and that he was fine. You weren’t going to test it today.

“Hi, babe,” you said, putting strained effort into your pitch, your tone, your face. Maybe your voice was too high, maybe the smile spread a bit too wide, so you turned back to the water, watching it heat.

“Hi,” Bakugou greeted as he kicked off his sneakers, voice gravely as it usually was after a shift. He was in civilian clothes now, having showered and changed at the agency. A black tee and jeans that never fit quite right on his narrow hips and tall frame. “What’re you up to?”

“Oh, I, um…” You looked down at the water, still cool enough to stick a finger into. You’d done nothing all day, having skipped out on all your classes with half-assed emails sent to the teachers. The idea of going had been too much to take—for reasons you had no language for—so you’d wallowed on the couch as the hours of the day had bled away. So the question felt like an interrogation about to put a scalpel to your flaws. “I’m just heating some water for tea. Was gonna get started on dinner.”

“What were you gonna make?”

Bakugou was in the kitchen now, coming up behind you to press a kiss against your temple. Your heart rate increased but not in the good way. Not in the way that it should. Instead of flutters it was pounding, smacking against your ribs in a reminder that he was too close, you were too visible—you might explode and you would hurt him.

“I, um, I wasn’t sure,” you said, the answer sending shameful heat to your cheeks. And then you were slapped the other way by how stupid that was. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

“Okay,” Bakugou said, going to the fridge. “I’m sure we can figure something out.”

Bakugou was always insistent on having a stocked fridge. With his job and you in your master’s program it was hard to find the time to grocery shop, much less eat consistent meals together, but those were the kinds of things that Bakugou prioritized. The things behind his sharp persona and shrinking legacy of reckless anger that made him a good boyfriend. An amazing partner and enviable roommate.

And what did you offer him? Emotional instability without just cause? A nascent—at best—career while he was climbing the pro hero charts every cycle?

Who were you kidding? You hadn’t even gone to class. You hadn’t done any of the work that you needed to do—the evening was a wash now, so you wouldn’t catch up. You were just wasting everyone’s time, like you always did.

“Hey, babe?”

By the tone of his voice, you realized that Bakugou had called you multiple times. Your eyes flicked toward him, but your head felt heavy to lift. “Hmm?” you asked, squeezing every last bit of breath into that hum.

“The water’s boiling.” Bakugou walked over to you, two mugs with teabags slumped at the bottom. He set them on the counter and put a hand on your shoulder, turning you a degree closer to him.

“Oh,” you intoned, pulling away and turning off the fire. Stupid. You were about to grab the pot when Bakugou dropped his hand down to your elbow, giving a firm squeeze.

“Are you okay?”

You ignored his gesture to stop and reached for the kettle, putting all of your effort into keeping your hands steady as you poured hissing water in one mug and then the other. Doing something was the only thing keeping you upright as your thoughts continued to swirl in your head poisoning each brain cell you had. You hadn’t done anything worth living for today. But goddamn it, if you couldn’t make these mugs of tea, then you should just walk out of the apartment and let Bakugou be better off without you.

“Woah, woah, what’s happening?”

Bakugou’s hand was on your chin as he pulled your face a little too roughly towards him. Or, rather, it wouldn’t have been rough, if you weren’t resisting it. But you didn’t want him to look you in the eye. See what a failure you were. Someone who couldn’t even overcome a bad emotional day to go to class while he’d been out saving lives—as usual. He took the pot from your white-knuckled grip and set it on the stove.

“Why are you crying?”

Were you? You hurriedly brushed a hand under your eyes and they came away slick, the water hot as the tea you were steeping.

“The…The steam…” you started, prepared to lie and lie and lie until there was nothing real left. The real stuff was too hard to hold. “I think…It just must have irri…tated my eyes.”

Your breathing was running away with you, chest heaving as you pulled away and faced the other direction. Your attempts were thin, too threadbare to hide behind. And your boyfriend wasn’t nearly stupid enough to be fooled, even by your best efforts.

“Babe, tell me what’s wrong,” Bakugou said forcibly, stepping around to face you again.

His eyes were searching for yours, but you held fisted hands to your cheek as you turned away from him. Now you could feel the tears streaming, and you couldn’t turn them off. But what was there to tell him? That you were just a big, stupid idiot who cried for no reason? That watching him become a better man only emphasized how totally shit you were? That when the two of you were on the street together, you knew that people wondered what a guy like him was doing with a person like you?

“I just want you to stop crying,” Bakugou said, and you could hear him getting desperate, only making you feel worse. You were biting your lips closed to keep the sobs from tearing out, but that only made embarrassing little huffs come out your nose, whimpers sneak past the back of your throat.

You couldn’t stop crying. How could you stop it when you didn’t understand what had started it?

“I’ll just,” you hiccupped, backing away from him. “Just give me…I’ll be fine, just give me a minute.”

“Fuck that,” Bakugou said, grabbing your wrist. “Do you want me to go because you want me to go, or because you think you deserve to be alone?”

The words felt like a trick, a riddle from some fairytale turned nightmare intended to make you fail either way. Telling him the truth would trap him in whatever trip wires had you tied in knots right now. But, at the same time, he was expecting the lie. He wasn’t letting you save him from this.

But why? He was always saving people. Why, for once, couldn’t you save him from you?

“Idiot,” Bakugou said, pulling you in to him. You cried harder, the weight of your failure dropping in your well and spilling more tears out of you. “Why would I leave you alone?”

A sob crashed out, breaking through haphazard letters of attempted defense. He needed to go; him seeing you like this only made it worse.

“It, um,” Bakugou’s voice was low, a register that was unfamiliar even to you, unsteady and unrehearsed. “It seems easier to be alone. I know it does. But…you’ve shown me that’s not true, so just. Let me show you the same, okay?”

You could feel how hard he was trying as he pressed you into his chest and you finally, finally let him. The sobbing made you weak in the knees, light in the head, but he held you. He held you up, held you close, and he wasn’t letting go.

Everyone always talked about how crying felt good. About it being a release that helped you process your pain. And maybe that was right when talking about grief or loss, but not this. These tears felt like nothing more than splashing in the masturbatory wallowing hole of your self pity. Embarrassing and stupid.

“Why?” you finally whispered when the sobs subsided a bit, letting you keep enough of the air in to at least say that.

For a moment, Bakugou didn’t say anything, and you wondered if you’d imagined the words. If you were imagining the whole thing and he really had left like you’d wanted. But then you heard breath catch in the back of his throat as he seemed to try and fail to find the words a couple of times.

“In another world,” he finally started. “I’d come home from a day of work fucking exhausted, slump on the couch, eat, and pack it in to go to bed before starting all over the next day. And I’d probably be fine with that. But I’d be a fucking idiot, because coming home to you makes it worth coming home.”

Your breathing was steadying as he talked and you could feel the tears cooling against your cheek, against his wet t-shirt.

“Even with you looking like a damn mess like this,” Bakugou said and you could hear the smile in his voice. His smile, which had grown less rare over time, was always so wide that it made his words sound different. Warmer. They managed to draw a haggard chuckle out of you. “I’m happier just to be around you than convincing myself that being lonely at the top is the best way.”

“I don’t want to drag you down from the top,” you said. “Your company shouldn’t be dead weight.”

“Dead weight?” Bakugou repeated, pulling back to look at you. “Dumbass.”

He pulled you in again, both of his arms around the back of your head so that you were nearly smothered in his chest.

“That’s the stupidest fucking shit I’ve ever heard. You’re fucking incredible, and if that’s why you’re crying today, then you and me have to do some talking.”

Another laugh managed to crawl its way out of you and Bakugou let you pull back to breathe again.

“Are you okay now?”

‘Okay’ felt like such a far ways away. But you were above water again. Somewhere next to okay, distance undetermined.

“I’m surviving,” you decided.

Bakugou looked at you, a couple different things flashing over his eyes, too quickly for you to identify. “Well, that’ll do for now, but we’re not settling for that. Just talk to me. I’m not the best at this, but…I want to be better at it.”

In that moment, you remembered that Bakugou wasn’t perfect either. That he constantly had voices in his head telling him that he wasn’t doing enough and, not only that, he had the public constantly critiquing his attitude, his skills, his work. That, to some degree, this was already something you were going through together.

“I think you’re better at it than you think.”

Bakugou smiled again, this one not so wide, but more private. “You too, he said. Whatever bullshit you’re telling yourself—you’re better than you think.”

He pulled you in close again, and this time you sunk into it, enjoying his warm muscles, the way that his hair was still a little damp from the shower. You weren’t sure if anything had changed—all your problems were still present as they’d ever been. But yet, there was one thing. Now, with Bakugou’s arms like a buttress to your shaky but standing foundation, you, paradoxically, hoped that he would stay and stay and stay.

[anyoneseenadam]

The Moon Spirit - two

Dorian x reader, Fenrys x reader (throne of glass)

Description: When you’re taught to be a queen from such a young age, nothing could go wrong. But when the king starts to fear your growing power you find yourself thrust into a world of faeries, evil magic and powerful men, learning to stand on your own can be harder than it seems.

warnings: blood, graphic descriptions of violence, objectification, gross old men, Dorian is a ball of love and niceness however, angst, fluff, possibly smut in later chapters

word count: 2.9k 

a/n: oof the plans i have for this series omg!! i hope you like this pls comment and tell me what u think and also feel free to give any ideas/ theories i love getting that sm!! ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

——————————————————————————-

Finding a place to get a drink was easier said than done.

You had ridden along the cold, barren road for hours – your only company being the birds singing above you, the horse moving below you and the small bundle of content wrapped in your arms who had fallen asleep in your arms in seconds, occasionally yawning widely. And through those hours you had met no one and seen no place to stop.

You eventually had to stop, exhaustion slowing you down. You moved off course and tied your horse to a tree next to a small stream, running a comforting hand through its mane as it drank slowly. You slowly stripped off as well, taking your time as you removed the blood-soaked layers from your skin. Once you were bare, shivering in the cool morning air, you stepped slowly into the stream – swearing enough to make a sailor blush.

However, you relented, running your hands over your skin, wiping away the guards’ blood with a heavy heart as the water turned pink. Your whole body ached, yet you were numb. Men were dead because of you, and - if he hadn’t already – Dorian would hear of your disappearance soon. And then the king would pick him a new bride, and you would be forgotten.

Just as intended.

Amaris was mewling behind you, hungry and cold, wondering why you had left. Or maybe that was just you, maybe you were projecting. You climbed out of the water, pulling your undergarments back on as you found a sunny patch to sit in, allowing the newly risen sun to cleanse away the remnants of the night, drying your skin slowly.

After half an hour of silent tears you picked yourself back up, pulling on your stiff clothes and climbing onto your horse as you set off again. You couldn’t just lie down and die, no matter how much you wanted to, you had to look after your last gift from Dorian, and you had look after yourself.

--

You ended up riding for hours more before you wandered into a small town. Dismounting, you led your horse through the town as you searched for a place to get food and maybe clean clothes, glaring down your nose at anyone who stared to long. Much like Dorian used to.

No. You tried to expel the thought of him from your head, not needing to be swept up in the thought of his forget-me-not eyes, nor did you need to remember that you may never get to look into them again.

What you needed was the tavern you could see at the end of the street.

You pushed through the street, ignoring the townspeople as you moved to the stables beside the tavern, giving your horse rest, food, and water. You hid Amaris in your coat as you moved into the tavern – back straight and head high as you walked.

The bar quietened down when you moved in, a small sprout woman pausing handing out drinks as she stared at you over a high skew nose. The bar smelt of sour whisky and piss, the surfaces barely visible beneath the dirt that covered every surface – the only source of light coming from tall candles that had been stuffed into wine bottles. The curtains over the windows were drawn tight, not allowing any other light in and the people in the bar all looked remarkably similar, tired. The woman behind the bar was petite, with a face alike a weasel and when she spoke you discovered her voice was just as shrill as you expected.

“And who do you think you are?” she moved in front of the bar, walking towards you as you levelled your gaze.

“I’m no one.” You replied, the answer vague enough that she hopefully wouldn’t try again.

“Then what do you want?” she was exasperated as she spoke, and you allowed yourself a moment of reprise as you glanced down at your clothes.

“A drink would be nice,” your voice was curt, tired. The small lady rolled her eyes, moving away as you approached the bar, allowing her to pour you a glass of cheap, hard liquor.

She slid it towards you, and you knocked it back quickly. “Do you also have fresh clothes and maybe some food for me and my cat?”

As she left with an eye roll, a man approached you, his hairline receding and breath fowl as he slung an arm around your shoulder, leaning far too close for your comfort as you trained your eyes forward.

“I can offer you a job,” he nodded his head and you looked over to see his eyes trained on the prostitutes in the corner, “I’ll even offer a free trial. To get you started.”

You felt panic rise like bile in your throat, your entire body tensing as you shoved this man’s arm of your shoulder. You calmed your face – unwilling to let any emotion show as you faced him.

“You couldn’t afford me,” you snarled, pushing down the heat growing in you as the curious eyes of the towns’ folk were once again turned on you.

“You bitch!” the man began shouting but was cut off by the shrill woman’s return. She unceremoniously dumped a pile of clothes in your lap, along with a small loaf and some fish, her gaze expectant.

You loosened the bracelet around your wrist, dropping it into her hand as she stared at the large jewels adorning it.

“That should cover it.” you muttered as you stood, keeping your gaze angry and forward as you shouldered past the burly man. You bundled the clothing and food in one hand, the other still holding Amaris tight to your chest as you left the dirty tavern.

You found your horse again, offloading the goods you had received into the worn satchels on its side – leading it out of the barn slowly, desperate to get out of this town.

--

Dorian was a mess.

He couldn’t sleep, couldn’t eat, could barely speak anymore. It was enough to lose you, but to then realise that his own father had driven you away. His own father had made you feel so unsafe in your own home that you couldn’t even run to him, his father had made you feel so completely isolated that your only choice was to flee.

Chaol was trying to coax him back into civilised life, his brother mourning the loss of his friend, yet itching to find you. And level-headed as always, Chaol knew that wouldn’t happen with Dorian spending his days drinking or in bed – often both.

But Dorian didn’t know how to cope, he didn’t know how to plaster on a smile and pretend everything was okay. That was your specialty.

Almost a month had passed, and you certainly were nowhere to be seen. You weren’t coming home anytime soon and he was going to have to learn how to live without you eventually.

Every morning he woke up, a part of him hoped it was a bad dream, that you would be asleep in his arms, or giggling and pressing dizzying kisses into his jaw. He hoped one day he would just wake up and you would wrap your arms tight around his shoulders, tell him it was just a nightmare and stroke his hair until he fell back asleep.

But he knew that couldn’t happen, that life wasn’t kind enough to return his bride to him and so instead he chose to numb his thoughts. He ignored the flirty eyes of other woman, unable to look at them in their expensive dresses and jewels without his mind returning to you.

Everyday that passed without you hurt that much more, so when he sat on his throne as Chaol approached him with a beautiful but deadly woman, he decided since he couldn’t have his perfect woman, he must find her opposite. He couldn’t be who he was before – so he must become someone new.

--

You weren’t faring much better. The day you had left the bar, you had ridden all the way to the coast of Terrasan and had climbed onto the first boat to Doranelle. By the time you arrived in the city you had just about sold anything of value on your person and all you had left to sell was the poor horse you had taken away.

By the time it was just you and Amaris, you had acquired a small flat in the city – the walls were bare and there was only simple furniture in it, the mattress on the floor next to large windows, and worn cushions on a makeshift sofa next to a wooden table.

Every night Amaris crawled into bed next to you, licking away salty tears from your face as you pulled the thin, scratchy sheet closer over you – hoping to replicate even a shred of Dorian’s warmth, or the feeling of his arms wrapped secure around your waist. Most nights you didn’t sleep, the bags growing under your eyes as your heart slowly numbed. Amaris would bury himself in the warmth of your chest as your eyes blurred, watching the city move outside of your flat – the noise subdued and calming.

On the third day in the new city you set out to find work, desperate to find something that could numb the thoughts in your mind and make the days easier. Plus you were sick of grabbing the easiest food you could find. You found yourself walking to a library, deciding it would be the perfect mixture of solitude and work for you. And it helped that you had spent most your life reading, many nights curled under Dorians arms as you read your separate books – occasionally reciting a line to the other.

The old man at the front of the library was kind, his face wrinkled from easy smiles, and you could understand why his long, long life seemed so pleasing. The bookshelves were tall, dizzyingly tall, and filled with countless books that you wished you could search through for hours. There were also tall, stained windows lining the walls, letting in the beautiful morning light and showing how the dust danced around the room.

“So what brings you here?” he asked, moving around the desk he sat at and motioning for you to take a seat on the small, cushioned seats next to him.

You sat down gently, back straight but keeping your eyes trained on your neatly folded hands. “I need work, sir. I have very good qualifications and have been educated by the best.”

He laughed slightly at that, “That much is clear, my child. But I asked what brings you here? What is your story?”

You looked up to meet his eyes, unable to stop the pain that they revealed, and he took your hands gently in his warm ones, “The world has treated you poorly I see.”

You felt tears build in your eyes – this kindness so alien to your battered heart you couldn’t help yourself as you let out a soft sob. The man smiled kindly at you, squeezing your hands gently as he urged you to talk to him.

“I was f-forced to leave the man I loved,” you choked out, “his father tried to… hurt me.” Your explanation was an over-simplification, but you feared what may occur if you revealed the truth.

“Was he your mate?” the man asked kindly, and you shook your head.

“I am not Fae,” you explained, and he frowned, passing you his handkerchief as he stood.

“Are you sure about that?” he asked, retrieving a small, hand-held mirror, and handing it to you. You took it with a confused expression before looking in, gasping under your breath as you saw your ears had taken on a delicate point.

“I, I don’t- that’s not possible.” You shook your head, eyes wide as they met his.

“Where do you come from child?” he voice was gentle as he took in your shock.

“Adarlan.” You whispered and he smiled sympathetically.

“Then I believe a glamour has been removed recently.” You could feel yourself shaking, the weight of the knowledge hitting you. “Let me take a name dear, you can start work tomorrow, we’ve been needing some extra hands around here.”

“(y/n) (y/l/n)” your voice was small as you stood, shaking his hand lightly. “Thank you so much.”

“It’s no problem and remember when you work you can have a read through any book you like. Aisle sixteen contains many on the ancient spirits.” He looked down to your necklace pointedly and you bit your tongue so hard you tasted blood, desperate to not reveal any more than you already had.

“Thank you…” you trailed off and he smiled,

“Albert,” he finished for you. “And make sure to take care on your way home, this city is filled with powerful people, you would be smart to not mix with them.”

You nodded, pocketing the information in your mind, ready to add it to your list of rules.

--

Fenrys was tired. He had just gotten home from a month-long mission and all he wanted was to sleep, however he wasn’t quite ready to face Maeve yet and instead he decided to take a trip to his favourite library before she realised he was back.

He was walking in when he saw you, your eyes red but hopeful and he almost fell over at the sight of you. You were wearing common clothes but held yourself like royalty, head high and gaze ready to tear down a man who so much as looked at you wrong.

What he did next he wasn’t exactly proud of, but he needed an excuse, so he was willing to play his hand a bit. “Excuse me miss, do you happen to know where I could find the tilted goose?” your eyes widened when you saw him, fuelling his ego slightly.

He knew where the tilted goose was of course, it was one of his favourite bars, but you didn’t have to know that.

“Oh yeah, it’s just down this way. I’m walking that way I’ll show you,” your voice was like music to his ears, and he smiled, revelling in how you avoided his gaze, clearly intimidated by his stature.

“Thank you so much…?” he asked, and you smiled, softly, subdued.

“(y/n),” you stared walking in the correct direction, and he grinned.

“Beautiful name for a beautiful lady. Fenrys.” He placed a hand to his chest as you laughed lightly.

“Quite a flirt aren’t you?” you asked, eyes sparkling.

“Can’t help myself, I’m not sure I’ve ever met such a beautiful woman.” He looked down to you as he fell into step beside you, noticing that you were taking a much longer way than needed. “You new here?”

“How’d you tell?” your tone was self-deprecating, and he laughed.

“This way takes about five minutes longer.” He stated and you whirled around, pointing a finger accusingly.

“You know how to get there.” He felt his face heat up as he raised his hands sheepishly.

“Maybe…” he grinned, and you scoffed, rolling your eyes as you began to storm off.

“See you around princess!” he called after you, almost missing the way your shoulders stiffened momentarily before you called over your shoulder.

“You’d be so lucky!” you replied, pace quickening as he watched you climb a set of stars that led to some run-down apartments.

He laughed, the smiled on his face coming naturally and surprising him. Oh his life was about to get much better.

--

You shouldn’t have enjoyed the pretty man’s company. And you hated yourself for it.

But he was so kind and for five minutes he made you feel normal again, loved again. See you around princess! The words wouldn’t stop replaying in you head. You weren’t allowed to be a normal girl; you were a princess, and you were on the run, and you definitely had no time for handsome men who flirted with you.

You couldn’t betray Dorian like that, he was probably waiting for you to come home. And you planned to. You would build your strength and you would learn to fight, and you would tear the king to shreds.

But for now, you had to settle for getting through each day, and that meant you had no time for handsome distractions. As you steeled your nerves you felt the loneliness settle on your shoulders, wrapping around you like a shadow, and you fought to reach deep inside yourself, finding the sliver of magic that was curled up – dormant – inside of you.

You found it and fought to awaken it, only receiving a shard of the true power. You stood in front of the dirty mirror in your bathroom, taking in your newly pointed ears and watching as your necklace glowed gently, your eyes turning silver as you released a small amount magic, watching as the bright light shattered the mirror in front of you.

Your eyes widened at the loud noise and with a flinch the magic was gone, the only proof it was even there was the shattered mirror in front of you.

You stared back at the cracked reflection and squared your shoulders. You were going to train, you were going to fight, and you were going to win. Even if it broke you.

[i-am-infinite]

Guilt (Part 2): The Market

(Din Djarin x ForceSensitive!F!Reader)

Part 1 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

Description: Moff Gideon has found someone else to run his experiments on and word gets back to Din. Will he take his son far away and try and find somewhere safe? Or will the guilt of an innocent being put in his son’s place eat away at him? (No Y/N or ___ used)

Word Count: 4.5K

Warnings: violence, mention of blood, needles, crude talk, symtoms of anxiety attack, fluff, angst, implied death and death, let me know if I'm missing any

A/N: This took a while to write because I was really distraught after Chpt 14. Also planning on turning this into a little series. I'm going to try and finish it before my next semester starts in Feb. I also don’t know how to write fight sequences so sorry in advance. 

You see a stormtrooper take aim at your rescuer. Right when he pulls the trigger, you reach your hand out screaming, “NO!”

It was supposed to miss him. It missed him before. Instead of bending out of the way, it hits him and the Mandalorian goes down fast. Before you know it, more troopers come, grabbing Dr. Pershing and dragging him away. They start coming towards you when you hear yourself say, “No, please no!” You could run towards the speeders, but there’s too many of them now, they can catch up easier. Looking back at the shiny man, tears leave your eyes. You were supposes to save him. That’s how it was supposed to happen. You start screaming the only name you know for him as a stormtrooper grabs your arms and has them twisted behind your back. Dragging you back to where you escaped from, the stormtrooper is calling your name. 

He keeps calling it as he shakes your arms then follows it with, “Wake up.” Why does that mechanical voice sound different from the rest? The words echo in your head. Wake up. Wake up. Wake up. 

The stormtrooper helmets transforms into the one of the Mandalorian as you open your eyes. His hands leave your upper arms as he crouches in front of you. Still disoriented, your own hand comes up to your cheeks to shield your face when you realize it feels damp to the touch. Closing your eyes again and taking deep breathes you have to tell yourself over and over again: He’s here. I’m here. It was just a dream. Finally calmed down, you open your eyes to Mando still squatting in front of you. 

“You okay?” His modulated voice says to you. Nodding your head while wiping way the last of the tears, you can’t help but feel heat rise to your cheeks, wishing you could just disappear as you sink further into the copilot chair. “You want to talk about it?” he tentatively asks next. If it were anyone else, you would’ve probably said no, but seeing his tenderness as he cared for Grogu over the past few hours in hyperspace makes you give in. 

“We- we were back there, about to get on the speeders,” your heart rate picks up again thinking of it. You have no idea why the dream is affecting you this much. Continuing on with a shaky voice, “The stormtrooper, h- he shot you before I- I could- and” tears were forming in your eyes again, “and they st- started dragging me off and-” your voice suddenly barely above a whisper as you continue, “you weren’t moving.” 

You shouldn’t have shared it. Oh gosh, you wish you could take it back now. He hasn’t said anything. He probably thinks you’re weak now, unable to handle yourself, let alone a nightmare. It was a stupid dream, you are about to tell him when you hear him sigh, “Give me your hand.” Confused, you hesitate, causing him to tilt his helmet to the side and hold out his hand. Giving in, you hold out your own, placing it in his still hesitant. Moving his hand down to your wrist, gripping it lightly as he moves it his chest plate, he speaks again, “Feel this? This is beskar, strong enough to withstand blaster shots. While what you did was impressive, all you stopped from happening is me having to clean my back plate later.” Your face falls at this, noticing it, he brings his other hand over yours. You feel all the heat you have left in your body run up to your face. He declares, “That dream wouldn’t have come true. You’re safe. They won’t get to you again, I promise.” 

Still with your hand against the cool metal, all you can say is, “Oh. Thank you.” You wait for him to let go of your hand and wrist before you pull away, but he still hasn’t. Grogu stirs on the chair to your right, waking up after seeming to have slept through your nightmare. As if the noise startled Mando, he finally lets go and picks up his son. Clanking could be heard coming up from the ladder. 

Mando sits back in the pilot chair with the little green child who keeps trying to reach for the different buttons on his lap, as Dr. Pershing also seems to have finally woken up. Coming into the cockpit carrying a discarded IV bag. Oops. Should have put that back in at some point. 

Pershing comes as squats to the side of your chair, blocked off by the arm rest. “Looks like you’ve got some of your color back, which is good. Just to be safe, you should probably leave this in for longer.” Just nodding your head in response, scared your voice will falter, but now not knowing if it was from the dream or the prolonged touch of the beskar man. Or the fact that Pershing just pointed out how you’re blushing right in front of the person who caused in the first place. 

Trying not to look up at Mando, due to sheer embarrassment, you fail at your task when he turns to watch Pershing with the child still on his lap. He tries to be causal of his hand on his thigh, a little too close to his blaster as the doctor gets closer to you, while Grogu plays with his fingers. Father and protector, you smile to yourself. Realizing your line of gaze, he moves his other hand to hold to his child and abruptly turns his chair towards the stars as you feel a cold pinch in your arm. 

. 

The next hour or so is spent in silence, preparing to land on who-knows-what-planet. As long as you can get off this chilly ship and descend out of the numbness of space, it doesn’t matter where. You might be being a little over-dramatic, but wearing a now torn, thin, short sleeved shirt, some sort of pants with blaster powder now littering it, and no shoes, you think you deserve the right to be just a tad dramatic. The IV bag is finally finished, so there’s one less ice-cold thing touching your skin. Still you shiver in your seat, not wanting to impose too much and ask for a blanket or a change of clothes. Hopefully wherever you get off is warm, or at least warmer. 

Finally descending, you see tall, colorful structures, bright blue skies, and so much green. It’s beautiful. You can’t take your gaze off the gorgeous landscape getting larger before your eyes. Pulling your legs away from your chest, you brave the cold floor yet again to try and get a closer look. Audibly making a noise as you shiver, both men turn towards you, finally taking in your tattered appearance. With a static-y sigh, your starting to think that’s how he starts everything he says, the Mandalorian notes, “We should probably get you some better clothes.” His helmet points down to your feet, then tilts as he says, “And shoes.” 

. 

Bare feet hit the luscious green grass, toes curling and uncurling into it as you deeply inhale the fresh air. The sun hitting your skin makes you feel alive again, warming you from outside to inside. It’s as if you can feel the golden rays pouring out of you. You have never seen nature as brilliant and as vibrant as it is here, you never want to leave its warmth. Too caught up in your own little world, you don’t notice the two men start walking towards the city. Grogu babbling in Mando’s bag snaps you out of it and you slightly jog to try and catch up to them. 

It takes a while to walk into the city, considering where Mando landed his ship. By the time you actually get there, your feet feel like one of the thousand rocks you’ve stepped on during this journey. The armored man barely seems to notice at first of you trailing behind, only stopping when the city is finally in view. So now to top of being cold and unequipped for this amount of walking, you are now tired. Grrrwwww. And hungry. Hopefully no one heard the atrocious noise your stomach just made. When was the last time you ate? 

Mando must of heard it growl because before you can react, he tosses you a few credits and tells you to go get something to eat while he takes Pershing somewhere to set up his new life. You didn’t catch the last part because you’re already following your nose to the nearest source of food. While walking away you hear more static come out of his helmet, like he was sighing again, but it wasn’t the same as last time. It almost sounded like a laugh. Was... was he laughing at you? You whip your head around, but they’ve already disappeared. Shaking your head, you turn back and let your stomach take the lead again. 

. 

Mando and Grogu finally come back when you are all about done with this meat on a stick. They find you sitting in front of this little shop, eyes closed in bliss about finally eating. There’s barely anyone around, so it was not very hard to spot you. Finally looking up, ripping one of the last pieces off the kebob, you beam up at him. You don’t know it but seeing you happy after the events of this morning, brings a smile to the bounty hunter’s face. Offering his hand to help you stand, he asks, “Better?” You nod your head in response while he helps pull you up. Shoving he little piece of meat into your mouth, you hear his voice yet again, “What even is that?” 

“I don’t know,” you counter. “All I know if that it smelled really good. Honestly if I knew what it was, I probably wouldn’t be able to eat it,” you finish with a giggle. He just nods, still without you seeing the smile planted on his face. You two walk side by side going into the city, with Grogu in a bag on his father’s hip of course. 

You can hear the main part of the city before you actually see it. People are bustling, vendors litter the streets, it’s astonishing. And overwhelming, very overwhelming. Your breath hitches as you recall that a vendor was the way they found you before. But no, no you’re safe with the Mandalorian, he said they wouldn’t get to you. No, that he wouldn’t let them get to you. Without noticing, you start walking closer to Mando, more into his personal space than he usually likes. You’re close enough to graze his hand while walking, and right now you desperately want to reach out and grab it. Okay, it’s okay, just focus on your breathing, in and out, in and out. 

Too busy trying to calm yourself, you don’t notice Mando look over at you after he felt you invade his space. He whispers to you, “Are you okay?” but the volume is too much to get his question to your ears. Instead he lightly puts his hand at the small of your back, causing you to slightly jump. Looking around, your line of vision finally falls on the bounty hunter’s arm, now removed from your back, moving back towards his side. A blush creeps up to your cheeks as your realize that he noticed you. Pull it together. You manage to walk only a few more feet until someone bumps into you and instinct takes over as you grab onto something to steady yourself. The thing that happens to be is Mando’s arm. 

Luckily, he extends it behind your back to steady you, but not before sending the poor soul that accidentally bumped you what can only assumed is a death glare. That poor man turns as pale as a ghost. You almost forgot how menacing he could be. You’ve only been on the receiving end of Mando’s protection and don’t want to know what the opposite would be like. You two continue to walk with his arm guiding you, until you see it. Shoes. You nearly forgot about the pain in your feet until you saw them. Hand no longer on your back, you hurry forward, leaving the now frenzied and confused Mandalorian behind. 

Reaching the stand, you turn to find Mando with his hand on his blaster and his bucket of a helmet frantically looking around the area for a sign of danger. The T of his visor finally looks back at you and you just mouth to him, shoes! and then point at your bare feet. He tilts his head to the side and you just know that he sighed. Shaking your head, you let out a huff of air that resembles a laugh at his signature way of expressing himself. 

. 

Before you know it, you have new shoes, already on your feet, a few shirts and two pairs of pants. Mando insisted you have layers because who knows where they might end up. This begs the question, what kind of trouble has he gotten into before, better yet what trouble are you getting yourself into? Babbles from a hidden baby remind you that maybe the trouble is worth it. 

The shiny man and you continue walking around the marketplace of the city. He said he wanted to see if they had any spare parts that he could use for the Razor Crest and you were just happy to be wearing boots and having the extra time to break them in. “You can go look around if you want, I’m going to be over here,” Mando states as he inspects some round, gear-looking thing. Figuring you’d get bored of the mechanical items, you go to wander. “Hey,” the modulated voice cuts through again, “stay close.” Nodding, you only go two booths down to look at the books laid out. 

Eyes scan to find anything remotely related to this thing, this power, you and Grogu possess. In the back of your mind also knowing you’re searching for something to tell you more about Mandalorian culture, as you have become intrigued by your new companion. While looking, something shiny, much like Mando, catches your eye. Turning to the next booth, the item seems to be a hair pin. You freeze. 

A flower hair pin. Pearl in the center, with gray and white iridescent petals. No, no, no, no this can’t be happening. It feels like you can’t get enough air into your lungs. Your legs feel like lead, but you need to get out of there, you have to. The table has more unfinished glass pieces there too, just like before. They can find you. They can get you. They can get the baby. No that can’t happen, you force your tense legs to move as your hands shake. Backing up away from the stand, you bump into the book stand, letting a stack of books fall into the dirt. “Sorry, sorry,” you say with an unsteady voice. You need to find Mando, you need to find the baby, you need to -

Hands grab the back of your shoulders, as you think it’s over. You try to shake them off when you’re turned around to a familiar T visor. You stop fighting against him and grab his forearms. Your breathing still hasn’t slowed as he asks with a sternness you haven’t heard from him, “What happened?”

You can’t think of how to explain with your mind and heart racing and can only answer with, “We need to get out of here.” He pesters why to better understand the situation but all you can answer with is, “please,” as tears threaten to spill. “We need to get out of here please Mando.” He looks around confused, trying to find any source of danger, but turns his attention back to you when your grip tightens and you try to pull the three of you out of there. 

He lets you lead him to the edge of the city, back towards the green scenery you landed in. Finally stopping you with his hands on your shoulders again, he calls your name, “You need to tell me what is going on.” Taking a few breaths trying to compose yourself, you explain how the day before you were taken, you were at a shop similar to the one you were at. How you saw this hair pin then cut your hand while the person working tried to help you clean up. Explaining how you thought nothing of it, until you realized they wanted your blood for experiments. You barely make it through telling him that you saw the same set up with the hair pin at that booth. 

“That’s how they must have found me. We need to get out of here before they recognize us, please,” you plead. His helmet hangs down low as he slides one hand down to take your hand and begins walking back towards the ship. 

Arriving back at the ship, Mando hands you the bag filled with new clothes, “Go change, I’ll take care of this.” Just thinking he meant to fly the three of you off the planet, you go into the ‘fresher and get ready to take off far away from here. Finally dressed and hearing the latch close, you climb up to the cockpit. Grogu gurgles and makes grabby hands for you to pick him up from the co-pilot seat. While doing so, you realize the pilot seat is empty. 

“Where’s your dad, huh little one?” you coo at him. You called out to Mando to get no response. Attempting to climb down the ladder with the child wasn’t easy, especially still worried from before. You call out to Mando again, this time more frantic as he’s nowhere to be found. Your hear rate increase as you search the ship. Pressing the button you think would open the latch of the ship does nothing. What? did he lock you in here? You open some cabinets to be met with his armory. Picking up a blaster, you start rambling to the kid, “Your dad won’t mind right? Yeah, he’d want you protected. I won’t need to use it, but just in case. Yeah, just in case. Why don’t we also hang out in the cockpit away from the doors? Sound good?” You’re only met with muffled babbles back as Grogu sticks his stubby hand in his mouth. “Yeah, we’re going to be okay. Nothing is going to happen.” You hope.

. 

Back in the city, Din is looking for a stand that has this... hair pin? Does he even know what one of those looks like? He’ll figure it out, you knocked some books over, so he decides he’ll start there. Unfortunately for Din, most of the vendors are closing down their booths. Dank farrik. He’s got to move quickly before they’re all closed. 

Speed walking, he comes across the same man working the booth Din was at before you panicked. He asks the man if he knows if there is a booth that sells this item, and thankfully he points Din in the right direction. Four booths down. The people who wanted his child, and now you, could’ve been four booths down from him and he had no idea. Now’s not the time to beat himself up over this, he needs answers. Stalking up to the table, he’s met with a young man cleaning up the stand. Without looking up the man says, “What can I help you with?” Din’s hand ghosts over the pin you described to him and sees the many broken pieces scattered on the table. 

“Seems a little... unsafe having all of these around,” Din observes while now moving around the table. The man finally looking up, goes white in the face and begins to run. Why do they always think they can outrun me? Chasing the man down an alley, Din uses his grappling hook around his feet and the man goes tumbling to the ground. Grabbing him by the collar to face him. Anger laced through his modulated voice, “Did you follow us?”

“Nope, just the lucky bastard that happened to be on the same planet as you,” He spits out. Din notices that he moves his jaw to the side, but the man continues, “Don’t worry they’ll find you and the child soon. Oh, and I’m sure the troopers will have a good time with that pretty little girl you have once  they get their hands on her.” Before Din can land a hand on this guy, he bites down on something and there’s electricity everywhere, just like he saw with Bo Katan. Din barely jumps off the man in time. Now full of adrenaline and anger he stands there for a few seconds thinking of his next move. Kriff. He needs to get back to you and his son. 

. 

You are sitting on the cold floor of the cockpit, with Grogu on your lap, hand hovering the blaster that is next to you on the ground. Banging coming from the Crest makes you jump. It sounds like the hatch opens, so you clutch Grogu closer and pick up the blaster as you stand up. The pram is still in the cockpit, so you put the baby that is pulling your hair in and close it. Going to the opening between the levels, with shaky hands, you raise the blaster and wait. Clanging can be heard when you finally hear Mando call your name and the kid’s.

Hopping down the ladder, blaster still in hand, you smile at him as he stands still. “What the hell are you doing with that,” he barks at you. You stand there dumbfounded, he’s the one that left you in the ship with his child. He should be glad your first thought was to protect him. He continues with his hands on his hips, “Do you even know how to use that?”

Still startled, you stammer, “You just- point and shoot?” With that his hands go up in astonishment and back down again, almost as if he’s saying, are you kriffing kidding me? Why is he so angry right now? 

“You’re - you’re the one that left me, that left us here,” you point back up to the cockpit, “I didn’t know if someone else could get in or not. Why are you so angry at me for trying to protect your son?” 

“You could have shot him or yourself, you don’t even know how to use it,” his voice raises and he takes it out of your hand. 

“I’m not the one that left us here defenseless!” you scream. Both of you stand there for second huffing at each other. Finally thinking a little bit more rationally, you ask, “Where did you even go?” 

Pushing past you, he put something in your hand, “I took care of it.” He climbs the ladder as you look. The hair pin. He took care of it? He took care of it. Your face falls thinking of what that means. Following him back up, you take Grogu from the pram and place him on your hip. 

“You took care of it?” you say astonished, “Care to elaborate?” Mando sits in the pilot chair already plotting a new location. 

“No.” Your eyes go wide as he spins the chair to face you. “I’m flying us out of here and I-,” his hands go up in defeat, “I need to eat. I’ll tell you when it’s safe to come up.” He sounds less angry but still very annoyed. At this point you’re fuming. You spin on your heels with Grogu playfully slapping his little 3-fingered hand across your face for attention. 

You leave the cockpit and grab two food packets on the crate before the ladder opening. Stuffing them in your pocket, you try to maneuver yet again down the ladder with a baby clinging to you. Hopping off the last wrung, you go to sit on the crates you woke up on. Opening the packets, you help feed Grogu his. 

Why was he so mad? If anything, he should be thankful that you were being resourceful. And after the past couple of days you think you deserve the right to be a little worked up about things like this. The anger is fueling you right now. It keeps spiraling, you can feel the darkness surround you. This used to happen when you were younger. Your emotions would almost devour you whole. Luckily your mother would always tell you, it’s okay to have these emotions but don’t let them consume you. She would lead you through some breathing exercises to help you calm down. Oh, you wish she were here with you right now to help. Could she have known about this ability you have? That’s not important right now, you need to breath and calm down. While doing so, you feel two little hands come and rest on your chest, as to help you relax more. Playing with his ears, the weight of the day starts to set in. You feel your eyes start to droop and before you know it, you’re asleep yet again. 

. 

Din holds his head in his hands. He shouldn’t have snapped. He knows this. It’s just knowing that Moff Gideon and his Imps could be anywhere in the galaxy trying to find others like the two Jedi he seemed to have collected. Are you even a Jedi? He still has no idea how this even works. Din shakes his head trying to clear it of what that man said. The anger boils up in him thinking of what he said about you, about their hands on you. He wishes he could’ve gotten a few punches in on him. He got out easy. 

He’d do anything to protect Grogu, he knows it and they know it. But now with you in the equation? He’s terrified. He doesn’t know what he got himself into with now both of you under his protection. You don’t know this but he saw you peeking through the opening, with your hands shaking holding the blaster and with such fear in your eyes. A pain springs up in his chest just thinking of it. Looking up towards the door, he thinks it might be time for him to stop hiding and time to go apologize for his behavior. He did just leave without explaining. You also have just been kidnapped and rescued in a matter of days. He sighs, remembering what you have gone through, and now with the reminder in the city. He should have been a little calmer and not taken out his frustrations out on you. 

Putting his helmet back on, he opens the cockpit doors and climbs down the ladder again, only to hear soft snores. There you are with your back against the wall, with Grogu in your lap. Grogu’s eyes open and he starts to make, very slow, sleep filled, grabby hands at his dad. Carefully taking the baby out of your arms, he opens up his own bunk and places the child in his little hammock. Quiet babbling is directed at him and Din responds, “I know, I know, I’m getting her a pillow and blanket.” 

Moving back over towards you with those items in hand, he places the pillow in its spot and carefully shifts you into a lying position, bringing your legs up onto the crates. After placing the blanket over you, Din moves the fallen pieces of hair out of your face. You look so peacefully, he can’t help but stare. Finally, he sighs, “I guess I better teach you how to shoot then.” 

Taglist: @rogueheretic555​ @heythere-mel​ @dancingwiththeplanets​ @ohpedromypedro​ 

[misterewrites]

Inhuman Interrogation (Welcome to the Underground!)

Hello everyone! E here hoping you are all safe and sound! Here’s the next chapter of the Underground!  A special thank you to everyone who reads my stories. I know they’re not everyone’s speed and I get wordy but I really do appreciate it! I really hope you are having some fun with it. Okay stay safe, sound, keep your loved ones safe, wash your hands, wear masks and get yourself vaccinated, push for vaccines worldwide. Here's the next chapter, enjoy! Feel free to leave likes, tell your friends, reblog and leave feedback I love it all! have a good week and I'll see you later! E is out byeeeeee!

If you want an easier way to read my story here’s the newest chapter at ao3

https://archiveofourown.org/works/27814297/chapters/79942294

Curious what this about? Here’s the first chapter

https://archiveofourown.org/works/27814297/chapters/68094967

Want an overview of my works, you can find me right over here! Fun fact I do, on a occasion, write stuff for fandoms! Shocking I know :D

https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrE42/pseuds/MrE42

Summary: Oliver's been caught red handed and there's only one thing to do: Claw and lie his way out of the situation. However, the bard might be a little over his head from this stranger who watches all.

-----

Oliver could feel a chill run down his spine, fear gripping him tightly as he scrambled to keep himself calm. Being found out was always a possibility he’d calculated in his plans, he just hadn’t wanted to deal with it tonight. Well you know what they say: When life gives you lemons, squirt lemon juice in life’s eyes and run like hell.

He’d been caught so the next step was to determine by who.

Oliver blew cool air onto his face as he pivoted around to see which person had been acute enough to catch onto his antics.

He had been expected to looking at an unhappy Lea with his sword drawn.

What found waiting for him was worse.

It was good looking man though Oliver couldn’t hazard a guess to his age. His hair was short wispy dark brown like the color of copper. His face was scratched by dozens of tiny whites line, healed scars that somehow did not detract away from his handsomeness. He wore a plain white tunic with black leggings, a large bronze hued cape hung over his unusually thin frame. The most striking feature were his golden eyes. Not golden in shade but actual gold, metallic shimmering and shining like metal caught in the glow of the sun.

He was a sight to behold, perfection made flesh and blessed by the gods.

And Oliver knew he was utterly and terribly inhuman. He was not a mortal being for no human could ever been so perfect.

The Stranger tilted his head quizzically, his eyes dilated into pupil-less orbs.

“You” He spoke in a raspy, low voice “You’ve been busy.”

Oliver coughed, trying to get his dry throat working again.

The Stranger took a step closer, his gaze unflinching “Yes, very busy.”

Oliver chuckled nervously “I haven’t the slightest clue what you mean increasingly creepy man. If you excuse me.”

As Oliver turned to leave, his blood turned cold when the stranger harshly whispered, his words booming in Oliver’s ears.

“How’s Death I wonder? He’s an old friend for you, right?”

Oliver whirled around, fist clenched but the Stranger hadn’t taken a step forward. In fact he had taken a step away, furthering the distance between them.

Oliver gulped nervously, trying his best to stop his racing heart.

“And you” he murmured quietly, trying to hold onto his fleeting courage “Smell of it.”

It was true: Even this far away, Oliver could smell the stench of decay, of death and blood wafting off the Stranger as if he’d come straight from a bloody battle.

The Stranger made no indication he heard Oliver’s comment, just stared with golden eyes unblinking.

Oliver let out a tense breath before closing his eyes. He centered his will, he reached out into the universe and drew in the power of his magic.

He could hear the scrawling of a pen across the scratchy surface of parchment, the squishy wet sounds of paint drying, the tuning of a lute among excited laughter and cheers.

‘I need to escape.’ Oliver spoke in his mind.

Knowledge filled his mind: Spells and their uses. The hand gestures necessary to tug at the weave to make his will, his need a reality.

An unknown force guided his hand, raising it high and surging with magical power. Oliver’s eyes snapped open with a fierce determination. He took a deep breath, his fingers at the ready as he prepared to recite the incantation.

“I…” Oliver began when the Stranger struck. There was a blink and there was the stranger in front of him, his hand wrapped tightly around Oliver’s wrist.

“So.” the Stranger spoke in an oddly smooth voice “You ready to tell me what you were doing squirreling about?”

Oliver was strained against the Stranger but his grip was as strong as iron. Unless he could complete the hand gestures and motions along with the incantation, the spell was incomplete and he was as helpless as a kitten in Stranger’s grasp.

Oliver grimaced in pain “Now you’re remembering to be human? No creepy staring or awkward conversations about death?”

“Sorry, sometimes my lady speaks through me. I am her will incarnate on this plane.” The Stranger gave a sheepish grin

Oliver smiled uneasily “Right mysterious lady sure. That’s totally normal. How about you let me go and I won’t take the psychotic act personally?”

“But it is personal.” The Stranger’s smirk widen, his teeth too sharp to be mortal “You’re up to something and I’d like to know what.”

‘Great.’ Oliver thought to himself, his eyes darting about for a sign of assistance: a cloaked figure nearby fidgeted awkwardly but ultimately did nothing, a few nobles conveniently glanced the opposite direction of their altercation. Even the guards were nowhere in sight. Whoever this person was, he was the luckiest son of a bitch in the world.

Oliver pursed his lips, his mind desperately grasping at ideas to escape this situation.

“Party planner” Oliver offered helpfully “My job is to keep track of everything, make sure the party is moving smoothly and ensure there is no issues. You know how Mr. Brambleoak dislikes unnecessary distractions.”

The Stranger nodded in understanding “Party planner? That’s a good one. Feasible. If were I shade dumber, I might actually believe you. However…”

Oliver winced in pain as his grip tightened. The bard had been manhandled once or twice before but never this single handedly.

“Now” The Stranger’s golden eyes narrowed threateningly “Let’s try this one more time before you really anger my lady. What were you doing?”

Oliver opened his mouth.

“There you are!”

For one nerve wracking moment Oliver thought the Stranger had backup but he seemed just as confused as he was.

Maria cut in between two men gracefully and forced the Stranger to release his grip. He backed away as she linked herself arm in arm with Oliver.

“Sweetie!” She spoke with honeyed words, patting his arm lovingly “You ran off so quickly. I was worried I’d upset you.”

“Umm.” Oliver eyed the Stranger carefully, wary at any sudden movements “Sorry honey. This person thought I was someone he knew.”

Maria peered closer, getting a good look at the man.

The Stranger smiled cheekily “Fraid I got the wrong person.”

“You should really be careful, the guards here dislike any disturbance to the festivities.”

Almost as if magically summoned by her words, the guards began to approach with hands on their blades.

“Of course. Of course. Wouldn’t want trouble.” the Stranger bowed mockingly “Besides, I don’t think he’s the one I want.”

“That’s certainly ominous.” Oliver murmured under his breath.

Maria jabbed him with her elbow though her gaze never left the Stranger’s golden eyes.

“We should go.” Oliver offered helpfully “I think I’ve overstayed my welcome.”

Maria beamed cheerfully “No worries, I was feeling a bit tired myself. Good night good sir.”

“Bye.”

“Good night miss” the Stranger tilted his head “Bard.”

Maria hurriedly dragged Oliver away.

“Thanks for the save.” Oliver said gratefully.

Maria blew a strain of hair from her face “You’re welcome.”

“Not mad about using you as a distraction?”

“Normally I would be” Maria admitted “But that little stunt you pull got the harpies off my back for the rest of night.”

Oliver chuckled “Basking in the admiration of their adoring fans?”

“You have no idea.” she replied wearily “I’m just happy for a moment of peace. So thank you for that.”

“You are welcome then.”

The two made their way outside and straight into quite the scene: a massive cheering crowd formed around a handful of people. Most of the combatants were faced down, sprawled across the cobbled streets though Oliver spotted two familiar faces standing tall and victorious over their fallen foes.

“ARE YOU NOT ENTERTAINED!?” Terri screamed into the roaring masses, arms flexed. Tyrell looked like he was about to pass out from exhaustion.

Oliver spotted Lea among the thundering crowd, his eyes alive with excitement and joy.

Terri caught Oliver’s eye and gave a proud smile. Oliver offered a subtle thumbs up as Maria led him away from the bank.

“I take it you can’t go far.” Maria stated simply.

“No” Oliver spoke honestly “I’m afraid my business is not yet concluded.”

“Is it alright if I stay with you for now?”

Oliver bit his lip nervously “Sure. Of course. I have a moment. Not curious about what I was up to?”

Maria gave a cheeky smirk “Naturally but I have a feeling secrecy is important here. Better to not ask than force you to lie to me."

“Thank you. I don’t like lying to you.”

The two stood side by side, arms intertwined together in a quiet comfortable near silence.

Maria smiled softly “You know my father used to warn me about my sentimentality for people. About they would use it against me.”

“People like me?”

She smirked mischievously as she puffed out her chest, speaking in a mocking tone “There will come poet whose weapon is his word. He will slay you with his tongue.”

Oliver snorted loudly, trying to hide his flushing skin “Oh lei oh lai oh lord?”

“Oh quiet you.” Maria scolded with a chuckle “Surprise you didn’t take the set up.”

“Too easy.”

“Should I be offend?”

“I mean those are pretty good lyrics” Oliver replied, hand high in surrender “Surprised they came out of your father’s bitter lips.”

“I suppose everyone has their moments. However rare.”

“I suppose so.”

Maria’s hazel eyes met Oliver’s brown, curious yet expecting “Do you remember what you said to me two months ago? At the last competition?”

“Umm…” Oliver scratched his chin thoughtfully “I say a lot of things. You need to be specific.”

“That my voice was utterly angelic?”

“Ah, I didn’t think you actually heard me.” Oliver’s cheeks blushed a bright red.

Maria giggled sweetly “Did you mean it? What you said inside?”

“Yes” Oliver answered without hesitation “You don’t need them. You would be amazing by yourself.”

Maria’s smile was sad. She sighed tiredly as she threw a glance towards the bank “My father won’t let me but you knew that, didn’t you?”

Oliver nodded in confirmation.

“I feel like I am a disappointment. A puppet controlled by a father who craves nothing but influence and status.”

“You’re not.”

“How do you know?”

Oliver shifted uneasily.

“That’s what I thought bard. Nice try though.”

Oliver caught sight of Flora and Sel making their way outside, signaling the others the mission was complete. Terri and Tyrell broke free from the fight circle and began making their way towards the rendezvous point.

Maria slipped her arm out of his “It is time I suppose.”

“Enjoy your night off.” Oliver took her hand in his own and softly kissed it. Maria flushed a pink hue but still curtsy in response.

Oliver turned to face her, his eyes gentle and understanding “You aren’t a disappointment.”

Maria rolled her eyes “You don’t have to lie to me.”

“I’m not.” Oliver firmly stated.

Maria’s eyes stared quizzically into his “Certain, are you?”

Oliver cleared his throat “You aren’t a disappointment to me.”

“That’s sweet but I’m afraid I barely know you. Besides you’ve been a thorn in my father’s plans consistently. Technically, I shouldn’t be talking to you let alone assisting.”

Oliver gave an impish grin “Yet you are.”

“You are far too charming for your own good.” Maria frowned mockingly

“Nothing compared to you.”

“Sweet words are nothing without meaning beyond them bard.”

Oliver took a deep calming breath, struggling to get the words out before he lost his nerve “The boy who used to climb your fence still loves you.”

Maria’s eyes widen with confusion before realization dawned upon her hazel eyes “How did you…?”

but Oliver ran, bravery failing. He disappeared into the crowded streets without another word. He ducked and weaved through the people in case Maria decided to chase him though he doubt she would. Perhaps those words didn’t have the same weight as they once did. Oliver really did not want to stick around to find out. He shouldn’t have said anything but he’d never been good at keeping his mouth shut.

-----

It hadn’t taken long for Oliver to meet up with the rest of the crew. Everyone managed to gather in a nearby alley, their chatter excited and cheerful.

“Boss man!” Terri boomed, arms opened wide “WE DID IT! See the pile? Do I get results or do I get results?”

Oliver gave a weak chuckle “Yes you do. Remind me not to piss you off.”

“Damn straight.” Terri flexed unnecessarily once more. Flora gave a playful wink towards her girlfriend which turned Terri a lovely bright pink.

Tyrell looked haggard and sick “I never want to do that again. Ever.”

“You did amazingly Ty! You can be First Chair in no time if you keep this up!” Terri patted his back approvingly, Tyrell nearly went sprawling to the floor below.

Oliver gave a sharp whistle, grabbing the attention of everyone “We did great team and it was an honor to work with you. If you require my assistance, I’ll be in town for a few days at the Right Hook. Ask for Ollie.”

Terri slipped her hand into Flora’s “We won’t be in town much longer. We have business up north but we wish you well! Permission to leave?”

“Granted.” Oliver waved them off “No making out until you leave our sights.”

It was impossible to know who was a redder shade: Terri or Flora.

The pair bowed respectfully before taking their leave, Flora’s head resting lovingly on Terri’s shoulder. Oliver couldn’t help chuckle at Terri’s proud “And you didn’t poison anyone! Great work sweetheart!”

Oliver turned to the remaining two “Sel, destroy the paper and report back to the local Conductor. If there’s any more trouble come get me.”

Sel gave a single nod before disappearing into the crowded streets without another word.

“And me?” Tyrell whispered anxiously “What about me?”

“You.” Oliver stretched his neck, trying to relive the tension of the night “You’re gonna tell me how to get into the Clifftop Distract.”

“E-excuse me?”

Oliver waved his question off “Don’t even. I know you’re a noble born. Your clothes are way too nice to be a simple baker or blacksmith’s son. And barely frayed means you ran away from home recently.”

Tyrell glanced away, fidgeting nervously “You noticed?”

Oliver nodded.

“And you don’t care?”

“Not in the least” Oliver admitted honestly “You got into the Choir. That means you’re good in my book.”

“Thank you.” Tyrell smiled softly “I appreciate it. May I ask why you need to get into the Clifftop Distract?”

Oliver scratched the back of his neck sheepishly “Someone I know has business up there. Figured I might as well ask you to make our lives easier.”

“You’re a good friend.”

“I’m really not.” Oliver murmured quietly, unable to stare Tyrell in the eyes.

Tyrell shook his head is disagreement but didn’t press further “Every month they change the password. This month’s is Knightly Valor.”

“Knightly Valor, thank you.”

“No, thank you for not telling the others. May I go now?”

Oliver ruffled Tyrell’s hair playfully “Go on scamp.”

Tyrell bowed and with a skip in his step, made his way out of the alleyway.

Oliver stood there alone for a moment before turning towards the shadows.

“You gonna keep follow me or we’re finally going to talk?”

The figure did not break the silence of the night as they stepped out seemingly from darkness itself.

“You knew I was following you? Impressive given not many can sense my presence” the cloaked figured spoke. unable to keep the curiosity out of her voice.

“Mhm.” Oliver grunted “Ever since West End. You were in the bar the night Abigail and I hired Archie. I heard you moving about when we camped for the night, just down the tunnel out of sight. I assume you lost us when we went down the side tunnels and decided to stake out West Haven for us to pass through. You’ve been tailing me all night since I left the Right Hook.

The figure said nothing.

“That’s what I thought.” Oliver sighed tiredly “Alright, we gonna have a problem? I've had a long night and I've been threaten one times too many today.”

“No problem.” The figure muttered.

Oliver narrowed his eyes suspiciously “Then why show yourself?”

“You need to know my presence.”

Oliver sighed “You are being very cryptic.”

“Now you know how everyone else feels.”

Oliver smirked mockingly, unable to hide the sarcasm from his voice “Thanks, I hate it!”

“Be careful bard.” the figured glanced about, worried “Something is coming.”

“Nice and vague, thanks for the tip ninja.”

The figure shifted uncomfortably but remained silent.

“Fine, go on then if you're not gonna be any more helpful.” Oliver shook his head before closing his eyes. When he opened them, the figure was gone, upped and vanished into nothingness.

Oliver ran his hand through hair tiredly as he began making his way back to the Right Hook.

“And I still have to climb two stories. Fucking hell, what a night.”

[belit0]

Caught in the Act

sharinganslut

can you like have madara ruining your shit and tobirama and hashirama come in and catch you (female reader) thank you i’m just a slut😀 and fuck anon i want people to know i’m horny

We are all horny ppl when it comes to the Uchiha. I fucking support you a lot, I’m like that but with Indra

Rating: E

Pairing: [Uchiha Madara / Fem Reader]

Additional Characters: [Senju Hashirama] [Senju Tobirama]

Tw: Domination, Degrading, Roughness, Some Praising

“Tell me why do I have to be here when this is a favor requested of you?

"Because if I have to suffer Hashirama’s lack of intellect, you as my lover will too. Now find that man’s fucking coat so he can stop bothering me.”

It’s nothing new to witness the leader of the Senju lose and forget his Hokage dressing gown, but it’s something that always causes great annoyance to the leader of the Uchiha. Outraged at his old friend’s lack of responsibility, when Hashirama asks him to help find it for him, Madara only avoids exploding in the air because he knows it’s a good excuse to spend time with you and not working.

“I could be taking a nap at home… Or having some sweet jasmine tea while thinking about the beautiful face you make when you get angry… Maybe even eating something while I remember your muscles on me and- ”

“You’re walking on thin ice, [Y/N]. Shut up and look.”

With a tense posture, Madara passed by you, heading to check out the different rooms of his best friend’s house. Imitating his action, you took a different route from him, and searched the other end of the big building.

Sliding the door of Hashirama’s main room, you hit the target first. On the large two-person bed, stretched out, red and immaculate, lay that piece of cloth that gave reason to your lover’s grumpiness.

Entering the bedroom, you slid your hand over the material, feeling the softness in your fingertips. A mischievous urge attacked your mind, and a great idea to provoke Madara suddenly struck you.

Quickly, to prevent him from catching you in the act, you put on the Hokage garment, which was considerably large. Hashirama was monstrously tall, so the cloth touched the floor and dragged over it when you slid it over your shoulders.

Laughing weakly, you looked at yourself in the mirror on one of the walls, and found that the cloth was not at all flattering in your form. Even more tempted, you tried to keep your composure, and prepared for the stampede that would come upon you in a minute.

“Dear! I found it! But there’s something wrong with it, hurry up up and come have a look!”

After a second, you heard Madara’s footsteps approaching the room where you were, and the anticipation in your chest began to grow. Suddenly, you regretted your stupid joke a little. Walking down the corridor, you heard him talking, without even reaching the door.

“What do you mean by something wrong? If you did something to that damn piece of trash I swear that-”

Posing, you surprised him with a… great… idea. With both arms in the air and over your head, you put on the best smile of satisfaction that your features could have had at his reaction, and despite the growing anxiety in your stomach about his glance, you rejoiced for a second in the situation.

Yes, one second.

From the door frame, the Uchiha was paralyzed by the image you offered to him. His eyes had quickly changed from a deep black colour to a bright red, with an unnerving dancing pattern in them, characteristic of Mangekyōu.

His shoulders were stiff in their stance, his chest was forced up and down by clearly strained breathing, his biceps were increasingly inflated with every second that passed thanks to the two fists he held tightly on either side of his body.

His hair began to bristle, and the tension in the air became extremely heavy. Not brave enough to speak or look him in the eye, you put your hands together in front of your legs, bent your shoulders and your head. Reducing your size as much as possible, as if trying to make yourself invisible to Madara’s terrifying gaze, you waited for the inevitable.

With the voice that made your blood run cold and your hair stand on end, he spoke, intimidating from across the room.

“What… are you… doing… with… that…”

“I-I-”

A grunt erupted from his chest, deep and serious, animalistic, making you exult when it hit your ears. Without courage, you continued to stare at the ground.

“That… belongs… to him.”

You nodded, hoping that your good behavior would calm the beast in front of you.

“You… are… not… his…”

Another nod.

“So, tell me… WHAT ARE YOU DOING WITH THAT?”

“I-IM S-SORRY-Y”

“Look at me.”

Trembling and in your reduced form, you raised your head reluctantly, staring at those terrifying red orbs. Suddenly, all you wanted to do was take off that dressing gown once and for all, show Madara that it was a foolish mistake.

“Who is your owner?”

“Madara-Sama.”

You said it without hesitation, quickly after his question, which generated a slight smile of satisfaction on the Uchiha’s face. Crossing his arms over his chest and looking at you over his nose, he continued.

“Are you mine, or are you his [Y/N]?

"I am all yours Madara-Sama.”

“Kneel before me.”

“Look what a pathetic bitch you are, dressed in that shit, taking my orders without a problem… Tell me [Y/N] Why should I fuck you right now?”

Knowing your man’s habits, you answered.

“Because I’m a stupid little whore who needs your cock right here, right now. Please Madara-Sama, don’t deny it to me, I need you inside my tight pussy.

"Oh well, really? If my slut is so desperate for my dick, you leave me no choice but to give you what you ask for.”

“Please sir.”

“Come here.”

On all fours, knowing what turns him on, you crawled to his feet, where you sat back on your knees and looked at him from below.

“Use your filthy little mouth.”

Obeying his orders, you rose to the height of his hips. Biting the waist of his trousers, you captured the cloth between your teeth, and with experience you lowered it strongly to his ankles.

“What a talented little pup, an expert in doing everything without hands… Go on”

Smiling slightly at his compliment, you repeated the action, but in his underwear, revealing a semi-erect limb, which promised to harden with little effort.

“No hands, or I’ll have to take them off.”

Faced with Madara’s threat, you understood that it was better to stick to his rule than to challenge him, and you introduced his penis into your mouth, maneuvering your head at a strange angle.

Working at a steady pace, his member became rigid in a matter of a couple humid strokes and your task became easier. Moaning at the situation generated by a foolish prank, you devoured your man’s cock with hunger.

After a few minutes in the same rhythm, Madara needed a speed boost, and he grabbed your hair. Combing it into his grip while breathing heavily thanks to your supplies, he held it with one of his big hands, forming a ponytail. With the new security of the hairstyle, he was able to use your hair as a handle to press your head harder against his length. As your nose hit his pelvis and your throat begged for a break, you placed both hands on his thighs, trying to free yourself from his hold.

At that moment, he stopped all activity dead on, but did not allow you to free your mouth. Even with his limb inside your moist cavity, he moved away from you a little to stop the pressure at the bottom of your throat, and spoke.

“I said without hands [Y/N]… Did your hunger for my dick cloud your mind? No problem, I told you that I would take care of it if necessary.”

Without further ado, he took your wrists and held them above your head, fully stretching your arms. Releasing your hair, he gave you the freedom to move as you wished, but now your upper limbs were minutes away from losing circulation and falling asleep, which was a big pain in the ass.

Because that’s what Madara is really like, a big, big pain in the ass.

Taking up your task, you put your best effort to make him cum just with your mouth. Moaning over his member, your pussy was dripping from him to hear him talk, on the verge of his orgasm.

“Oh [Y/N] don’t you dare stop, keep it up, you beautiful obedient whore. Eat my whole cock like it’s all you need, I want to fill that naughty little slut’s mouth with all my cum”.

“Agh… -gasp- [Y/N] -gasp- I’m… I’m…”

A shot of hot liquid hit the bottom of your throat, while you felt his limb throbbing inside your cavity. Swallowing everything he had to offer, you dutifully waited for his release to end.

“What a good puppy… I think you’ve earned the benefit of being rewarded. Take it all off.”

With a broad smile coming from his compliments, you did what he asked, standing completely naked in front of him.

“Put Hashirama’s coat back on.”

Without wanting to contradict him and make him angry again, you took the garment from the floor and dressed it on your naked body, looking at him with curious and expectant eyes.

“In bed, lying on your stomach.”

Putting yourself in the right position, you waited.

“Show me that beautiful ass of mine, rise it up.”

Following his demand, and with your stomach still leaning on the bed, you positioned your legs over your knees, providing an easy entrance for Madara. What you did not expect, is that the Uchiha would continue with his jealousy whim.

Taking Hashirama’s gown in both hands, he tore a hole where your cunt was, accessing it through the fabric instead of removing it from your body.

“MADARA! WE ARE SUPPOSED TO TAKE THIS TO HASHIR- ”

Two fingers were inserted mercilessly inside you without warning, moving towards a specific point that made you moan suddenly.

“You will not say another man’s name when you are giving yourself to me you naughty whore.”

An overpowering spanking hit your skin covered by cloth, making your whole being vibrate.

“Tell me [Y/N], tell me whose pussy is this.”

“…M-Mad-dara’s!”

A third finger entered you, moving at an overwhelming frequency. A second spanking hit your buttock before he spoke again.

“You don’t sound very convinced… I’m going to ask you again. Who is the owner of this pathetic little cunt?”

“MADARA-SAMA!”

His tongue attacked your slit for a few long seconds, before inserting his fingers back into you accompanied by more spanking.

“PLEASE MADARA I BEG YOU.”

“What is it [Y/N]? What does my slut want?”

“I NEED YOUR COCK INSIDE ME, DON’T TEASE ME ANYMORE, PLEAHHHG… -gasp-”

He got into you firmly, using your fluids as sufficient lubrication to slide in. Hashirama’s coat soon found itself soaked in the body liquids flowing from the union between the two bodies, with the hole in the fabric being the main factor in allowing penetration.

Lost in the pleasure of both, drowning in moaning and heat, neither of you noticed when the front door opened and closed, when footsteps sounded down the hall, or when two pairs of curious and surprised eyes stopped to look at the scene unfolding before them.

“M-Madara?”

The Uchiha slammed on the brakes, being able to recognize that voice anywhere. Not coming out of you, he faced the gaze of Hashirama and Tobirama.

Understanding the situation, you refused to face those men, and hid your face in your arms and the leftover cloth, holding your eyes and hoping that the shame would soon be over.

“This… well…"

Without noticing it, his pelvis moved involuntarily towards you, hitting a spot with his member just inside you and making you moan in front of the two brothers.

Tobirama blushed completely, coughing uncomfortably and looking away, while Hashirama seemed not to care at all.

"Is that my dressing gown?

"Yes… we found it…”

“Oh well… oh well… I’ll send you the ticket later… Shall we go Tobi?”

“But brother! They are using your bed, they broke your clothes, they desecrate your room! You should say something to that damn Uchiha instead of…”

A growl of fury escaped from inside Madara, who was still inside you, when Hashirama interrupted before a fight broke out.

“Now, now, Tobi, you’ll understand when you stop being a virgin… come on, there’s a new tea shop I’m really dying to try!”

“HASHIRAMA!”

The front door soon opened and closed again, and at the same time, Madara took his overwhelming step over you, thanking his beautiful friendship with Hashi from the heart.

[hoseokisgucci]

HIFTB (Hit it from the back)

GENRE: smut

WORD COUNT: 4.2K

PAIRING: Namjoon x reader

SUMMARY: OC moves into a flat, happens upon hot neighboour joon. Gets off to thoughts of said hot neighbour, and the rest is history.

WARNING: Joon hears her get off, theres a lot of consent in there, some slut shaming, some humiliation, some soft stuff. OC might have a size kink.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I wrote something kinky in a long while. Lmk what y'all think. Hmu w requests, i wanna try writing some new stuff.

🐨

"I told you, it's a pretty good flat. I'm glad you're all moved in."

"You were very spot on with this one, thanks once again dude."

"No problem at all. I'll come over in a few days and we can have that binge session, alright?"

"Yes ma'am."

After finally breaking up with your boyfriend, ex-boyfriend now, (who was probably labelled asshat by your friends) you had to be the one to leave your shared apartment, which led to you needing a place ASAP.

Your univeristy friend was the one who had come to your rescue when you had needed a place to stay. At first, when she suggested that she had just the place in mind, you were a bit iffy. But after seeing the place, and the rent, you were willing to move in at any moment. And so you did.

Which brought you to this moment in time, where you have probably just seen Adonis in human form waiting for the lift. When you stop beside the tall serving of man, he turns to you and gives you a small smile, which brings into focus his dimples. And his face. Oh God. His dimples. His fucking face. Yeah, his fucking face would be good to see too. Shut up.

The lift opens, and he gestures for you to walk in first. He enters after you, and stands near the panel, expectantly looking at you.

"Oh, uhh 5th, thank you." You stutter out.

Surprise colors his face as he turns to you and says, "I didn't know my floor had someone this pretty."

Oh? Ohhhhhh.

Looking at him head on, your eyes twinkling, mustering all the confidence and sexual prowess in your being, you reply, "Well sweetheart, now you know."

For a second, his eyes look like they'll pop out of his head. But that moment passes, and he seems to collect himself as he chuckles and nods his head, muttering,

"That I do."

The lift doors open on your floor, and as you walk out, you turn around to coyly give him a look, twiddling your fingers in a wave. He just stands there watching you go.

Oh baby, nothing ever felt this sweet.

The next time you run into Adonis is when you're stepping out of your apartment and he's...stepping out of the apartment...beside you. The sound of you closing your door makes him look towards you, and he smiles.

Screw his face, dear God.

You smile back, hoping that your face doesn't look like that of a raccoon, and turn to face him.

"Hey neighbour," he says.

"Hey, uhhh, neighbour?" you say, trailing off.

"My bad. I'm Namjoon. How have you been?"

"I think, I've been, pretty okay. You?"

"I've been good too. You like it here?"

The way he asks this, it seems like he's hinting at something else entirely and not just asking you a basic question. The low timbre of his voice doesn't make it easier for you to not misinterpret.

Scrabbling for a reply, on autopilot, you say

"Uh yes, yes! I like it. A lot."

His smile turns into one of amusement, and he starts walking to the lift. When you don't follow, he turns to look at you, raising his brows.

"You comin' sweetheart?"

You bet your ass I am.

After running into your neighbour a few more times, you realise that this man, is truly some other being. Aside from being cute as hell and having that voice which makes anyone wanna strip, he is actually, personality wise, very nice. And kind. Everytime you've run into him, he's offered to carry your groceries or asked about your day or suggested going for a walk. This one time, he even came to your door to give you your mail, saying he went to get his and figured he'd get yours too. Other times, you've seen him at the florist, conversing with an old lady, once outside the library with a small boy, and once coming back, probably from the gym. All sweaty and flushed.

Looking at a sweaty Namjoon had triggered something inside your brain. It was as if, seeing him like that added another dimension to him in your head. Earlier he was just, nice hot neighbour. But now, now he was nice hot neighbour who can pound me into the mattress four ways to Thursday. How hot would it be, big palms holding you down, biceps flexing as he thrusted into you, skin glistening, lips rubbed raw? Very fucking hot.

All you could think about that night was Namjoon. And it was all your fucking fault. If you hadn't ogled him, then you wouldn't be wetter than London in the rain right now. And you felt like a weirdo, humiliated and dirty at the thought of what you wanted to do. Not just with him or to him, but also without him. Only if you didnt get off at feeling like this, your predicament could've been a little different. But now, after contemplating (contemplation being, you thinking of one very naked tall man), you had no damn choice. You just had to get one out while your imagination was thriving with your memory of him. So you did what you had to do. You teased yourself, fingers brushing your clit, light touches here and there. Your other hand cupped your breast, a small moan slipping your mouth as you squeezed. Your fingers left your core to traverse up and twist your nipple, gently. When you let out a sigh at feeling some sort of relief, you twisted with purpose, a sound of surprise leaving your mouth when the pain gave way to pleasure. Fondling yourself, your eyes closed and all you could think about was Namjoon. Oh, how good it would feel to have him touch you like this. To have him see you like this.

Would his eyes darken with desire, would he get off at seeing you wanting him?

With this question in your hazy mind, your hand went back to your core, where you first pressed your pointer finger to your clit testingly. Sighing in pleasure, you drew tight circles with your pointer finger as your legs fell open. As the pleasure increased, another finger joined in rubbing your clit. Your back arched, hips stuttering, body seeking more pleasure. With one last sharp twist to your nipple, you dipped your fingers into your mouth. Your imagination went wild at the thought of your mouth being filled by anything. You pressed your fingers to your tongue, eyes watery, mouth sloppy, as you moaned at the thought of Namjoon filling your mouth with his fingers, or his dick.

The hand on your clit pressed harder, but when you knew you couldn't get off with just this, you whined, the sound garbled because of the fingers in your mouth. You thrust one finger into your core at once, feeling the wet heat of your walls, and started pumping it. After a few moments, another finger was added on the way in , and the stretch made you feel good. As you continued pressing in and out, your hips moving to almost ride your fingers, your moans building in volume, the hand in your mouth came down to knead your tits. Both hands messily covered in bodily fluids, hips chasing an orgasm, throat raw from whimpering, you truly felt filthy. When you closed your eyes, you could almost see Namjoon's sweaty face, you could almost hear his groans and feel his cock pounding away. It was this thought, which made your hips move faster, made your hand squeeze harder, and before you knew it, you were writhing and cumming and moaning his name.

Little did you know that the centre of your fantasies was on the other side of the wall, in bed, feeling shocked, aroused and guilty all at once.

You woke the next morning, feeling tired and sated. When you remembered what your body had yearned for, what you had done, you were ashamed. Sure Namjoon flirted with you here and there, but maybe he was just being kind and you were just an idiot who was attracted to him. He was sweet. And very fucking nice. Last night, it felt like you crossed a very big line, and you were pretty sure you couldn't look him in the eye anymore.

After having breakfast, when you were working on laying out the plot for your next documentary project, the doorbell rang. You were pretty sure none of your friends had said they were coming over, so you were wondering who it could be as you opened the door.

Oh. Namjoon.

Your face flushed as you remembered your actions last night. You cleared your throat and smiled.

"H-hey, good morning."

When he didn't say anything, you brought your gaze up to his face, and realised where his eyes were. So, someone else is doing the ogling now. When his eyes met yours, they widened, and he cleared his throat and said,

"Hi, I was wondering if we could talk?"

Confused at his vague statement, you nodded your head. You opened the door wider, gesturing for him to get in. When he closed the door behind him, you turned to walk further inside but a hand gripped yours and yanked. Your yelp of surprise was covered by the thud you made when you were caged against the door, by Namjoon.

What the fuck. Just. Happened.

His foreams rested on either side of your head, one of his hands still holding your wrist. Looking at his face, you could only conclude that he looked wild.

Feral.

"Hey sweetheart, have fun last night?"

His low baritone sent electricity dancing up your spine, arousal stirring in your gut. But when you registered what he actually said, your blood ran cold. How did he know what you were up to last night?

As if he could read your mind, he continued, "You know, the walls are pretty thin. At first I didn't want to listen to your lovely sounds. I thought you were with someone, felt like I was being a pervert, you know? But as you went on, moaned my name, I realised what it was. Little Miss Sunshine was getting off at the thought of me. How sexy. You know what I was going to do?"

With bated breath, head turned down, you wait for him to carry on. But when you realise he was wants you to speak, you meet his gaze and whisper, "What?"

"I wanted to come here and show you how I would do it. Let you take care of the problem you gave me. You would have loved that, right?" His eyes twinkle with mirth and lust, a challenge on his lips.

It's now or never.

You surge forward and kiss the smirk right off of his stupidly attractive face. After a moment of shock, his pillowy lips start kissing you back, body coming impossibly close to yours. His hands trail down and wind around your waist, pressing your lower half to him. When his mouth parts from yours, warm breath filling the space between you, your hand grips his jaw, turning it the other way as you kiss his neck. When your kisses touch sensitive skin, his hands start roaming your body. One of the butterfly kisses you're trailing here and there turn into a hickey when you latch your mouth onto his skin and press you teeth in. The skin gives deliciously and you lave your tongue to sooth the throb. The hand on your ass squeezes as your mouth pops free from his neck, and you fall forward into him. His head dips to whisper in your ear,

"Take me to the bedroom baby."

Wobbly and inebriated, you pull away from him, and start walking towards your bedroom. As he walks in after you and comes closer, you put a hand on his chest and push. No words need to be exchanged as he stays where he is, and watches you get on the bed.

Tantalisingly, you grip your top and take it off, not once breaking eye contact with the man. His jaw ticks as he looks on, tongue teasing the inside of his cheek as you lay back, legs spreading, coqeuttishly batting your lashes at him. Your hands cup your breasts, squeezing them. When you grip one of your nipples and twist, head titling back, eyes closing and lips letting out a whimper, you feel him get on the bed, climbing his way to you. You want to close your legs, to try and save some semblance of integrity but he doesn't let you. He grips the back of your thighs, and urges you to wrap them around him. When he leans over you, you feel his hip press into yours, the onslaught of heat making you sigh. His hands urge you to leave your bosom and wrap around his neck, one of his hands brushing the hair out of your face. Tenderly, he holds your face and kisses you. Slowly, as if he's tasting you, devouring you. The thought you had last night, of him seeing you like this, makes a spark run through you and you grind your hips into his. At the sudden action, he moans into your mouth, the vibrations shaking up your core. He pulls away, fingers touching your face and asks,

"What do you want, baby?"

You contemplate while two of his fingers trace your lips, dipping in around your eager lips. When your tongue stroke his fingers, his eyes darken and he pushes his fingers deeper into your mouth, saliva coating them and making them wetter. As he feels the inside of your mouth, he says,

"Don't even wanna answer, huh? Just want something filling you up. Are you that desperate, doll?"

Of course your inability to form any thoughts, let alone words makes his eyes glint with lust, his fingers reaching the back of your throat with every thrust in. As your mouth opens wider to accommodate his fingers reaching deeper, your legs widen even more and you start grinding into him. He chuckles darkly, face hardening and says,

"Aww baby, just want to cum, don't you? Want someone to hold you down and fuck you stupid? But I haven't even done anything yet, and you're already writhing. You haven't even answered my question, such bad manners."

He ends his statement by thursting deeper, harder into your mouth, making even more drool spill over your chin, and leans down to catch one of your nipples into his mouth, and bite. You mewl, back arching off the bed and into him, tears brimming in your eyes. His tongue soothes your nipple as it swirls around it, and his fingers lessen their vigour in your mouth, stopping altogether and resting on the edge of your mouth. His face comes close to yours and he whispers,

"Tell me what you want, darling."

He patiently waits for you to come back to your senses, allowing the haze to clear from your mind. When you realise what he has said, you grind into him and say,

"Fuck me. Fuck me like you want to, like you've been wanting me."

The words make him crash his lips into yours, passion pushing him to take off your shorts. His wet hand leaves the side of your face marked with saliva and his tongue pushes into your mouth. When he tries to pulls away, you bite into his lower lip, and take it into your mouth. He stills manages to pull away from you, and sits up on his knees. Both of his palms come to rest on the inside of your thighs and massage the soft skin, eyes taking you in. He sighs and says, enamored,

"God, you look like a dream. You feel like a dream, and you sure taste like one."

Ironically, his words make you feel shy, given your state, and you whine out, "Just touch me already."

Your words make him smile, the devil incarnate, and he says, "But I did touch you, and I still am." His hands knead harder into your thighs, emphasising his statement.

You roll your eyes and huff, "If you don't fuck me soon, I'll do it myself, or get someone else to-"

Your words are cut off by a moan as he suddenly thrusts two of his fingers into you, body caging yours as his other hands comes to grasp your jaw into his hands, your mouth shutting up. The only sounds you let out are titillating whimpers. He speaks in your ear, voice darkening with dominance,

"For a slut moaning out my name last night, you sure talk a lot of shit. When I'm done with you, nobody will be able to make you feel this way baby."

When you clench around his fingers, eyes rolled back, he hisses, "Of course you like being called a whore. I shouldn't even be surprised. Desperate little minx."

He adds another finger, carefully thrusting it in and out of you, fingers slick. When your walls flutter and you moan at the stretch, he says, "Shit. Feels so good around my fingers. Can't wait to feel this pussy clenching and cumming on my cock. You want that babygirl?"

His fingers feel amazing inside of you. Longer than yours, hitting all the right spots, they make you want his cock even more. So when he asks you if you want his cock, you nod your head, which makes him loosen his grip on your jaw, and you open your mouth to let out a litany of whines, chanting "Please, please, please!"

His body straightens up again, and his fingers pull out of you. You lean up on your elbows as your eyes try and focus on him. And you see him take off his shirt, revealing toned caramel skin, almost glowing as his muscles move with him. Your mouth waters when you see his pecs, firm and strong, with nipples that are just asking to be latched onto. As he moves to take off his pants, pulling out a square foil packet from one of the pockets, your eyes focus on his bulging biceps and then his bulging thighs, and you just want to take a damn bite. You don't know from where, but you want a bite.

Coming back to the present, away from your visions of biting into honey glazed skin, you see him tearing the packet and pulling the condom onto his dick. Oh shit. Oh god. Thats. You're going to die. You're going to ascend to heaven. His cock is just asking to be sat on. Its fucking perfect. Fuck. If you weren't so delirious right now, you would've let his fuck your mouth, nice and slow and then hard and fast. But you want that cock inside of you. Now.

When he puts the condom on and strokes his dick a few times, eyes trailing up to your face, he smirks in satisfaction when he realises you kept looking at him.

"See something you like?"

"I'm seeing everything I fucking like, but if you don't fuck me right now, I'll make you watch me fuck myself."

He gets on the bed as you say this, grips your legs and yanks you to him. Eyes concentrated on your face, he says,

"As much as I would love to do that, right now, I have something else on my mind."

You sigh in relief when you realise that, finally, you'll get what you want. Only when you're expecting him to enter you, he taps the tip of his dick on your clit. The shock makes you yelp, and he does it again, harder. One of his hands grip your waist and fingers dip inside your cunt, as he spreads your slick across the inside of your labia and starts moving his dick up and down, just rubbing onto your core.

Wound up and sensitive, you arch your back when you feel him so close, and you start begging.

"Please, I've been good. Please, Namjoon plea-"

He thrusts into you, just a little, but the force of it, and his sheer girth has you moaning. The stretch that you feel borders on pain, but you know it'll turn into pleasure soon enough. Your hands find purchase in the pillow above your head, legs spread wide around Namjoon as he thrusts deeper and deeper, still not completely fucking into you.

"Since you asked so nicely, I should give a slut what she wants, huh?"

His words make you moan louder, and you start saying, "Thank you, thank you, thank you, yes, please, thank you!"

"So now that you've got a cock in you, you've remembered your manners?" His voice remains unbothered as his hips work harder to piston into you, your body getting used to him and allowing him to get deeper.

You don't answer him, his movements forcing out a staccato of moans from your mouth. When his hipbones finally touch yours, and he sheaths himself completely into you on one particular thrust, you moan so loud, youre pretty sure the whole floor heard it.

After that, his ministrations get a little bolder, his thrusts get faster, his groans get louder and his hands on your body squeeze harder. When one of your hands creep down to touch yourself, he smacks it lightly and says,

"You're not cumming like this baby. Don't you wanna be on my cock like a little slut, letting me take you from the back?"

You nod your head and say please, fingers coming up to play with your nipples instead. Namjoon slows his thrusts and pulls out completely, flipping you over, hands urging you to get on your knees. When you shakily get on your knees and arch your back, elbows supporting your upper body, you feel Namjoon get behind you, smoothing a hands down your back. Then his hands grip your waist, thumbs touching the dimples in your back and he fucks into you in one quick motion. Its like a dam breaks inside you, as you start downright wailing and cursing, hips moving in tandem as the head of his cock hitting your g-spot with every thrust, slick walls fluttering around him.

"Fuck! Fuck yes! Right there, yes, yes, yes, oh God, yes!"

Your voice eggs him on, hips gaining momentum, thighs straining to give you what you want. One of his hands push your head down into the mattress, as he says,

"Looking so beautiful baby, just like a good slut. You're taking me so well, making me feel so good."

When you start mewling, and he feels you start clenching around his dick, he moves the hand on your head to start rubbing your clit. The added stimulation makes you move your hips back onto his dick, chasing the relief that you can almost feel on your fingertips.

"That's it. You gonna let go for me? Let me feel you cum on my cock baby, come on."

His voice, straining with control, mixed with the sound of your his hips slapping into yours, makes you clench and finally orgasm, back bowing and body coiling tight and then sagging as you let yourself go. His hips grind, and his fingers draw light circles on your clit to let you ride your high.

Once the bliss you feel wears off a little, and feel Namjoon still grinding into you, you turn your head to look at him, and you croak,

"Give it to me, please. Fuck me like a slut."

His pupils dilate, jaw ticking, and his hands find purchase on your body as he starts fucking into you in the earnest. The strength behind his thrusts makes your over sensitive core feel him even more, your cunt gripping onto him tight.

When he feels your warm wet heat enveloping his cock, his hips lose momentum as he chases his peak. You start moaning out, "Cum for me Joon, please baby, come on, give it to me, fuck, please!"

Its those words spoken out in your sweet, lust laden voice which pushes him over the edge, and you feel warmth fill you as he cums into the condom inside you.

He slumps over your body, arms still holding your hips, warm breath now hitting your neck. You wince a little as he gets off of you after a moment and pulls out of you. You turn over, body sore and sated as you look at him tie off the condom and throw it in the bin on your bedside.

His body still glistens like a glazed donut, face glowing and smile blinding as he turns to look at you and climb on the bed to cage you in his arms once more. In the most shy voice, he says,

"Hi sweetheart. How you feeling?"

Your cheeks redden as you hear his voice, soft and filling with adoration. You try to keep your voice strong as you reply,

"Like I got fucked four ways to sunday. You fuck like a damn beast. How the hell are you smiling at me like this right now?"

He laughs, "Fucking you four ways to Sunday can be arranged, maybe we can add a few more ways? And I just had sex with someone I've been crushing on. Please allow me to feel the sweet joy envelope me."

For a second, your eyes widen at his words, but as you feel him nuzzle into you, naked body now resting beside you, arm thrown over your torso, you can't help but let the happiness seep into your voice as you say,

"I think I can allow that."