#anyway i’m just swooning and babbling

[chantalstacys]

weekend 📓

sleeping in, getting coffee, grocery shopping, napping. wine, homemade soup, watching tv together, going to bed late. sleeping in again and snuggling our cats, cute outfits, shopping downtown, smelling candles, giving him my bags to carry and feeling him follow me around, meeting cousin at our favorite bar for drinks & apps ♡

[anundyingfidelity]

WHAT IF...? — Soldier Boy/Ben (2)

Summary: Ben, now as your husband, gives up Vought for good and retires along with you far away from the spotlight and the big cities once you're pregnant with your first child. He knows better than to make the same mistakes his father did.

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x female reader

Word count: 900ish.

Warnings: none, soft Ben, OOC!Ben? idk, this is sweet.

GEN MASTERLIST! — DRABBLES MASTERLIST!

taglist is here!

PART 2

1990

The way back home was tiring to say the least. You and Ben had a weekend shopping schedule. It wasn’t the best idea John had for a funny Saturday, but you could tell he enjoyed being at the mall. He was six already, full of energy, joy, and eager to discover the wonders of the world.

From the passenger seat you moved slightly just to check on your son. He was already snoring in the back seat, drooling and sleeping peacefully as if it was his own bed. The sight of him just made you smile.

“He had a great time, huh?” Ben asked, giving you a side glance. He got better at driving after you gave birth, which you were so thankful for.

“Yeah, I mean, he’d definitely pick a baseball game instead but this is good for him,” you said back. “He’s been at home too much, don’t you think?”

“Hey, it's school break! Do you really love your kid?” Ben teased with a playful smile, you rolled your eyes.

“Shut up. All I mean is that I’d just like him to have friends and talk to other kids, do the normal kindergarten stuff… That’s all.”

Ben nodded more for himself. There have been a couple of weeks already, and he was more than happy to spend time with the little brat, but he got your point. You didn’t want him to be alone and the teacher at kindergarten had told both of you John was having some trouble with making friends and socializing in general. He was shy, but smart and creative, but even the teacher had some issues when talking to him at first. John wasn’t like that at home and it hurted you just a bit.

“Probably we should call Janine and some of the parents that were there in the last parent conference, you still have their numbers. We can do something for our kids to meet outside school,” you suggested.

“I think those moms were hitting on me,” your husband said, taking a last turn on the highway before heading home. He chuckled as low as he could when you patted his arm. You got pretty jealous at the last meeting when those ladies approached him, almost swooning. Even John’s teacher looked like she’d faint anytime. “What? I’m Soldier Boy anyway.”

“You’re an idiot.”

He parked the car outside your house after an hour of driving. There were some cons of living in the outskirts of the city, but as long as his family got the calm and green life around, driving for so long was not a problem.

You took John between your arms, careful of not waking him up. He weighed more and more each year, reminding you he wasn’t a baby anymore. He was taller, a good talker at least with you and Ben, he liked seeing the squirrels in the trees that surrounded the house, and he was very, very smart.

It felt like a day ago you gave birth to him, that he started babbling nonsense, and mere seconds that he started walking little baby steps… Now, his eyes were bright blue, his hair long and blonde, his cheeks sprinkled with freckles just like his dad…

Most of his factions were just like Ben’s mother, and she was beautiful from the old pictures he’d show you before. You were happy John was like an exact copy of her, you knew how much Ben loved her and how much her death hurted for him. John was like a reincarnation of her spirit, now sleeping in your arms.

Ben started to take out the grocery bags and some other stuff you had gotten yourself from the city, most of them puzzles, board games, and teddies John picked back there. As much as you tried to get him to reason to not buy unnecessary things, he would just spoil John a lot. But you understood why he did it. He was nothing like his father, he had time to learn how to be a better man, how to manage his own feelings and slowly, teach John to be a good man, even at his young age. You felt so proud of him, watching him discharge the bags on the kitchen counter with John clinging to you, deep in slumber, his little arms now wrapped around your neck to not let go.

When finished, Ben looked at you with a soft look on his eyes. You, holding his son, was a picture he’d never grown tired of. He would hit himself to confirm it wasn’t just a beautiful dream; it was real. You and John were very real, and he was thankful for giving up the superhero shit already. This could never compare to anything Vought offered to him before; what he built in there with you was everything he ever needed.

“I’m gonna take him to his room,” you mumbled, but before you could walk up the stairs, Ben approached you.

“I’ll do,” he announced in an equally low voice.

“You sure? I don’t want him to wake up-”

“John sleeps like a trunk, trust me,” Ben said, taking the kid softly away from your arms. John immediately wrapped his arms around his dad’s neck, hiding his face on the crook of his neck. He was so exhausted after the trip.

“Right,” you nodded. “Thanks, I love you.”

Ben gave you a charming smile, one that you never could grow tired of. He leaned down to kiss your lips softly, his new and trimmed beard tickling your skin a little.

“I’ll be here in a couple of minutes to help you,” he said.

You watched him disappear on the stairs to the second floor, John deeply sleeping in his strong arms, hugging each other.

Weekend trips like this were monotonous sometimes, but it was okay because you always came back home with your boys after all.

Soldier Boy taglist:

@delaynew @k-slla @thesilmarillionblog @onlyangel-444 @mrsjenniferwinchester

@daisy-the-quake @jackles010378 @mostlymarvelgirl @deans-spinster-witch @drasticemotions

@stoneyggirl2 @sapnaploves

@believeinthefireflies95 @demodemo909

[scaranation]

HELLOOO can u do one where scara and reader are best friends and scara likes reader but we’re superrrr oblivious and keeps complaining ab how we’re so alone to scara AND HE GETS SO JEALOUS WHENEVER WE START TALKING AB OUR NEW CRUSHES W HIM

THIS IS SO SWEET OMG shbdhfdhs but hear me out: reader being a super romantic person (like reading lots of ya novels and crushing on basically everyone ) AND SCARA TRYING TO ACT LIKE THE MALE LEADS READER LIKES BUT THEN READER STILL DOESNT REALISE SCARA’S FEELINGS 😭😭

༊*·˚ 𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐃 𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐃 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐃𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐄

Pairing: Scaramouche x GN!reader

Content: fluff, pining, modern high school AU

You were constantly dreaming about a distant love you found amongst the pages of your romance novels, flitting around to find your Prince Charming. Scaramouche, your best friend, always felt like the second male lead - perhaps, it was time for him to take matters into his own hands.

Scaramouche was quite a contrary character - volatile, and highly irritable. Most people were surprised to see he was capable of an emotion other than smugness or annoyance, much less being able to display something as absurd as love. And yet, it was apparent to everyone except the object of his affections that he held you in his gaze with a certain tenderness - a tenderness you never noticed.

You, being heavily into romance novels, would constantly gush to your best friend about everything that made your heart flutter. You romanticised anything and anyone, swooning over a new crush almost every week. You were in love with the idea of being in love, and yet, you never saw the love coming from the one closest to you.

“Maybe I’m just destined to be single forever…” You sighed, collapsing onto Scaramouche’s bed. The summer heat clung to you like a second skin, sweat seeping into your collar.

“Can you turn on the fan? It’s so hot in here.” You whined, briefly lifting your head to watch as Scaramouche walked over to switch on the air conditioning.

“Did you get rejected?” He tossed out the question jokingly, despite him hoping for a very specific response.

“I don’t even know anymore… Do you still have ice cream in the freezer?” You rolled over, pressing your face into the mattress with yet another long sigh.

“Do I look like your butler?” Scaramouche, your best friend - and the pretentious prick most people hated - scoffed, rolling his eyes but going to fetch ice cream anyway.

“You’re the best…” You mumbled. Scaramouche prodded your cheek with the cold bowl, holding in his smile at seeing you sit up - your hair messy from rolling around.

“So, what happened with crush number what? Sixteen?”

“I was going to confess, but they looked nervous for some reason and just left before I could say anything. If they really wanted to reject me, they should’ve at least heard me out.” You took in a spoonful of ice cream, pouting.

Scaramouche stared. Perhaps him glaring at that crush of yours every chance he got had really worked in driving them off.

“It’s such a shame, I really wanted my first kiss to be with them today. It’s such a nice idea, you know? Kissing at the lockers after a heartfelt teen confession.” You sighed dreamily.

“You should be kissed and often, and by someone who knows how.” Scaramouche replied smoothly, although he felt his heartbeat shudder. You were always babbling about your romance novels, and so he’d read them too - memorised the important lines, studied the male leads’ behaviour. He’d quoted one just now, adrenaline leaping at the possibility you would’ve caught his subtle cue.

Your oblivious self did not. Or at least, you did - but didn’t.

“Oh, isn’t that from Gone with the Wind? I love that book! Did you finally read it?” You squealed excitedly.

“Yes, and it’s complete idiocy. Just as I expected.” Scaramouche rolled his eyes, looking away. His gaze flitted back to you quickly to scan for your reaction, his lips turning downwards at the lack of a blush on your face.

“Aww, did you enjoy it at least a little?”

“No, I should blame you for wasting my time.” Scaramouche feigned annoyance, but he didn't mind.

"It's such a good book though! How could you not?" You huffed, but changed the topic as your attention span stretched thin. Scaramouche chuckled at your behaviour, watching you in rapt attention as you continued rambling on about your love life.

He was conflicted. He enjoyed resting beside you and simply listening to you happily talk, but it filled him with sickening jealousy knowing you could make yourself love anyone but him.

When would you finally notice him?

The truth was, although Scaramouche was never one for literature, he’d somewhat enjoyed Gone with the Wind, in a roundabout way. He’d found himself in the alienated, self-proclaimed “dishonoured” character that was Rhett Butler. Despite the character’s cynical personality, he held an undying love for the heroine - although their relationship had failed due to his inability to express that love, and the heroine pining after another man. As much as Scaramouche hated to admit, it was a crude allegory of his current predicament. He was, irrevocably, the second male lead - either that, or a mere side character trapped forever in the friend zone. Your hyper-receptive behaviour towards others and obliviousness when it came to him was proof of that, and it was displayed now more clearly than ever.

Scaramouche’s hands clenched into fists as his usual mask of annoyance slipped into one of - miraculously - even deeper annoyance.

You’d found yourself infatuated with another person (or was it crush number nine for the second time?) and Scaramouche could barely contain his jealousy. He’d been dropping hints left and right, but for someone who spent most of their time immersed in romantic texts, you remained as ignorant as ever to his almost blatant advances. You’d been staring at your latest crush throughout class, barely even paying attention to what was going on.

"They're so dreamy..." You sighed, idly doodling the face of your aforementioned crush in the pages of your notebook.

"No, they're not. They stink, have you smelled them after gym?" Scaramouche prodded your side, drinking in the adorably irritated look on your face. His eyes roved over your every feature, wondering if one day they'd stretch into some semblance of the affection he so desperately craved from you.

"I can tolerate that."

"Oh yeah? What can't you tolerate, then?"

"Good question. They could punch me and I'd be thankful." You flopped onto the desk in a melodramatic display. If you punched Scaramouche, he'd probably be confused and concerned about your mood. Was it really love you felt for your crushes, or just a forced obsession?

"You're so childish." Scaramouche scoffed. He had a way of filtering his thoughts so the only thing that came out of his mouth were the mean parts - a habit he'd have to try and fix. Your beloved Mr Darcy would never behave so crudely.

"And you have a big mouth." You snapped, turning away to gaze at your crush again with exaggerated excitement.

Scaramouche rolled his eyes.

Scaramouche's fiery temper could surprisingly carry over to his love life. In a moment of impulsiveness, he'd (rather rudely) make sure you knew how he felt - as if he was entitled to your love. Before that however, he possessed some patience, so it'd taken a while for him to get to that point.

"When will someone ever like me back? If only real life could be like the books." You grumbled. Crush number seventeen had been a failure, and you moped about dejectedly.

“The minute I heard my first love story, I started looking for you.” Scaramouche responded, looking you straight in the eye.

“The Illustrated too now? I’m proud, it seems you have been reading all my recommendations!” You perked up. Your gleeful expression made Scaramouche’s heart soften, but at the same time, a sense of irritation worked its way into his restless heart.

“You know, if you talked a bit more about what you read, I can find better books for you.” You added.

“If I loved you less, I might be able to talk about it more.”

“Oh, I love a good Jane Austen-”

“Stop it.” Scaramouche’s patience finally snapped and in an instant you found your back against the wall, his arm propped up beside you.

“I like you, okay? Like how your silly little book characters love each other. That’s how I feel, for you. I’m tired of having to spell it out, just so you can understand!” Scaramouche scowled. You stared in surprise.

“Are you… confessing to me right now?”

“Yes! For god’s sake, what else would this be?”

“So you meant those quotes, all this time?”

“Of course I did.” Scaramouche winced. He really was desperate - his former self would’ve laughed at him for doing something as self-deprecating as reciting romantic lines. Such frivolous behaviour, and yet he’d do it again, just for you.

“Oh.” Your cheeks flushed red with that expression Scaramouche had longed to see, your eyes suddenly uncertain to meet his gaze. How could you be so endearing, rendering him so enamoured with your mere existence? He felt himself falling for you even further, until you opened your mouth and promptly reminded him of your naivety.

“So… does that mean we’re like, dating now?” You asked.

For a romantic, you definitely were clueless.

“Yes, if you’d like.” Scaramouche replied.

You didn’t give a verbal answer, but Scaramouche felt it in the shy push of your hand against his as your fingers intertwined, the accepting way you leaned into him.

He should’ve found you annoying. He should’ve been extremely irritated long ago, but for some reason, there he was - secretly over the moon at finally being the main love interest of your life.

[calzone-d]

Growing (Ted Lasso x Fem!Reader)

pairing: ted lasso x fem!reader

warnings: so much fluff, michelle & ted’s mom mention, ted worrying as per usual, talks of having a child

summary: just some domestic fluff and then a deep convo caused by something henry said

a/n: promise i’m alive! posting this from the basement of nursing school. but only 7 more months left then i will go crazy on here. anyways here’s dad!ted fluff to make your heart swoon. i miss ted so much, he deserved so much more 😭

find my masterlist here.

requests are always open!

————-

the morning sun felt warm against your skin as you stretched in bed. you’d slept throughout the night for the first time in months. usually, you’d wake up with your baby girl a few times a night. sometimes you and ted would swap off.

apparently he took it upon himself to be on baby duty all night, and you definitely appreciated the extra sleep.

if you listened close enough you could hear ted talking to henry. henry’s laughter echoed through the hallways and it made you smile softly.

henry was the best big brother to charlotte. he loved helping pick out her outfits and teach her new things. at first he was worried you’d pull away because after all, he isn’t technically your kid. luckily, after lots of pinky promises and hugs he got comfortable with the idea of a new addition to your tight knit family.

from the minute he first held her they’ve been best friends.

as you lay reminiscing, you could hear her high-pitched giggles and babbles mixed in with the rest of the chatter.

your joints popped as you stretched once more before pulling yourself out of bed to slip on one of ted’s old sweatshirts and your pajama shorts. the floor was cold on your feet, so you slipped on a pair of fuzzy socks and followed the sound of the laughter.

henry was in the living room, and had swapped out entertaining ted and charlotte for his video game. ted had your baby strapped to his chest in the baby carrier while he moved around the kitchen making breakfast. he had her facing forward, and her chubby little hands reached out to grab at anything he dared to pick up. her dark wispy hair and button nose were a replica of ted’s and it was even more obvious when their faces were close enough to compare.

when he wasn’t using two hands, he had one planted firmly on the front of the baby carrier over her stomach. even though she was secure, they both found a bit of extra comfort knowing the other was right there. by the way her fingers gripped his larger ones, she clearly didn’t mind.

ted made conversation with her like she was able to communicate with real words.

“the batter look good enough to you, baby?”

she cooed at him. he dipped the tip of his index finger into the batter and brought it up to her mouth to taste.

“try some, charlotte.. here you go”, his voice was soft as she mouthed the pancake batter off his finger. she was silent for a moment before she began smacking her lips.

“you like it, sweet pea?”

she cooed and squealed more excitedly this time while kicking her legs out. her actions made ted giggle while he wiped his hand on a dish towel.

after a few minutes she started reaching for bowl of batter. ted brought another fingertip up to her mouth for her to taste. this time, it drew a sharp “ow!” out of him.

“shoot, sweetheart.. feels like you’ve got a tooth comin’ in there, huh?”

she looked up and backwards as best she could at him. one of ted’s hands came up to brush her hair out of her forehead while he rubbed his finger around her gums. she grunted at him and brought her tiny hands up to hold his. ted moved to the freezer to get a gel teething ring out for her to chew on.

charlotte babbled when he handed it to her and quickly realized it gave her more relief when it was in her mouth.

“that feel better? hmm.. there you go, baby.”

he murmured to her as he went back to breakfast. when he turned around, the sight of you made him break out into a smile, while charlotte broke out into a fit of babbles. her chubby legs were kicking in the air, occasionally hitting ted’s stomach.

“well good mornin’, sweetheart.”

“hi, teddy.”

you smiled at the pair and let ted pull you in for a sweet kiss. it didn’t last very long with the way charlotte was growing restless at the sight of you. she was a daddy’s girl all day long, but she still loved some time with her mom.

ted held a strong hand against her while he unfastened her harness, which wasn’t the easiest job with how wiggly she was. you chuckled lovingly at him and stepped closer to help him out.

“mama! mamamama! mamaaa!”, charlotte’s squeals and babbles made henry want to join in on the fun.

his feet raced across the floor until he came in the kitchen and immediately hugged you. he knew to not hug you in a way that would make you drop baby girl, but still found a way to give you a routine good morning hug.

“..there you go, sweetheart. go show mama those chompers.”

with one hand around henry and another holding charlotte on your hip, you shot ted a look.

“her teeth are coming in?”, this was news to you.

ted shared his discovery with you as he finally began cooking the pancakes.

“sure are, didn’t even realize ‘til she ‘bout bit my finger off”, he jokingly waved a finger at charlotte and you all laughed as she giggled at him.

“oooh! can i see?!”, even henry was excited about her new milestone.

you sat down at the kitchen table and placed charlotte on top so that she was facing you. henry joined and held a hand to her back while you took her face in your hands. charlotte was chomping away at her freezer ring and it was already covered in drool.

you softly pulled it from her mouth, “let mama see, baby.. oh my goodness! you do have some teeth in there!”, you cooed as you gently opened her mouth to take a look at her baby teeth.

ever the responsive baby, she squealed in response to your words. she let you hold her mouth open long enough for henry to take a peek, but she realized that her mouth was starting to hurt without her teething ring.

she settled down as you put her back in your lap with an arm holding her close to you. you bounced her softly and brushed her curls from her face, “she’s growing up, ted..”

ted shot you a smile from where he was flipping the pancakes, “i know! if we’re not careful, she’ll be as tall as henry next week!”

ted’s words made henry laugh, “no she won’t dad! she’s just a baby!”

more quiet now, charlotte have a drool-covered smile around her teething ring that was slowly growing warm.

“our big girl, huh baby?”, her high-pitched giggle made you all smile.

“alright, henry these are about done. want to help me with the last ones?”

henry eagerly shot up and ran to help ted flip the pancakes. you flipped charlotte around to where she could lie against your chest and gave yourself a moment to just hold her.

she immediately pressed her cheek against the part of your chest not covered by your t-shirt. her eyelashes fluttered against your skin, and even though it tickled you had no intentions of moving her. she began growing fussy against you as her teeth began hurting again.

“shhh,” you shushed her and began gently rocking her, “i know it hurts baby, i’m sorry.”

you didn’t realize it but ted had stepped away and left henry in charge of the pancakes. he quickly returned with some baby teething gel you’d picked up in preparation for this moment.

“oh- thank you, honey.”, he handed it to you before returning back to where henry was standing near the stove.

“look at that sweet girl, daddy’s got us all fixed up.”, you sat her back on the table and she fiddled with her now lukewarm teething ring. she watched you take the cap off the gel and smear a little on your pinky.

“here, baby..” she quickly opened her mouth to gnaw on your pinky and hummed in content as the gel began kicking in.

in seconds your finger was covered with drool but it was worth it to know she was a little bit more comfortable.

“breakfast is ready, darlin’.. you want a plate?”, Ted came up behind you and put a warm hand on your back as he spoke.

“I’m okay right now, tryin’ to help out our girl here. We’re gonna come to the table though, I’ve missed you guys these past few days.”

ted smiled and pressed a quick kiss to your hair. “I’ll go ahead and put a plate in the fridge for you?”

you smiled back, “thanks teddy.”

charlotte had somehow calmed down even more after you moved her to the table and she could see everyone. her eyes grew heavy after she finally got comfortable and you moved her so that she could nap on your chest.

her chubby hands grabbed a hold of your shirt while she drifted off in your arms. mouth slightly open, she was drooling all over your pajama top but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. you were just glad she’d finally got some relief.

as ted and henry filled you in on their upcoming week, you rubbed soft circles on her back and pressed kisses to her wispy curls.

“mom, did you know my friend alex has TWO baby sisters?”, henry’s hopeful tone made you raise your eyebrows.

“does he, now?”

“mhm”, henry hummed as ted shot you a panicked ‘I’m sorry’ look.

you couldn’t quite wrap your head around the look, though. you loved the family you’d made with ted and had no qualms with expanding it.

henry continued filling you in on the details of his weekend plans with ted as he got up to put his plate in the sink. he ran to the living room to turn on the show he’s been watching recently.

charlotte stirred on your chest, and you looked at her with the biggest heart eyes on earth. she looked so much like ted.

while you admired her features, ted stammered out an, “i-i’m so sorry about what he said. i don’t want you to think- i know you just-“

“you don’t want another one, teddy?”

“wha- no! no, i absolutely do! i just.. i had no clue he was gonna say that, i’m sorry.”

“s’not anything to worry about, love. would love another one of your babies. maybe not right now, but that doesn’t mean i want that any less.”

ted seemed almost relieved, his shoulders relaxing at your words.

charlotte had begun to stir at the sound of ted’s voice, and it was clear she still felt poorly. as soon as she took in her surroundings and registered the pain in her mouth, she began to cry around her pacifier. little tears rolled down her rosy cheeks.

her tiny feet dug into your legs as she tried standing up with her hands grabbing onto your shoulders.

“hi, baby.. you’re okay sweet girl..” you shushed her.

“dada! dada!” she wailed around her pacifier. she seemed inconsolable. and as soon as ted heard her words, he was on his feet and approaching the two of you with open arms.

her outstretched arms mirrored his, and her wailing turned into whimpering the moment she was settled in his arms. charlotte turned and tucked her face into ted’s neck. she was still whimpering but had definitely settled down some.

you stood in front of them and rubbed at her back while ted cooed at her. she always loved attention from you both at the same time, so she really settled down after that.

“you’re such a good mom, angel.”

your cheeks turned bright red at his compliment.

“you’re a great dad, teddy. we love you so much.”

“the three of you are my world. how could i not want more?”

you and ted went into the living room, where the three of you settled on the couch. henry had fallen asleep in ted’s oversized recliner while watching his show, and you didn’t miss the tiny grin on his face when you draped his favorite blanket over him.

ted changed the channel to watch the day’s football match, and charlotte got comfortable against his broad chest. seeing her tiny form draped over his strong, hairy chest always does things to you. he still hasn’t acknowledged your statement, but you’d learned to give him a bit of time to mull things over in his head over the years.

her eyes grew heavy as she listened to his heartbeat and the hum of the TV. it wasn’t long before you followed, drifting off with your head on the armrest and feet in ted’s lap.

ted rubbed her back while her breathing evened out and spoke up after a few minutes, “you’d really want another?”

a smile spread across your face, “of course, ted. absolutely.”

ted nodded silently and you could tell he was beginning to overthink.

“talk to me, babe.”, you poked your foot into the side of his thigh. when you first met him, he would’ve denied anything was wrong. he would’ve pushed it down and bottled it up.

now, he found comfort in telling you his fears. he let himself be scared and be taken care of by you. he’d come such a long way from the dark place he was in when you first met.

“you don’t think i’m gettin’ too old?”, his voice was small and he kept his eyes fixed on charlotte as he spoke.

“ted you aren’t old! i call you my old man but it’s out of love. you have so much life and brightness in you.. being old isn’t anywhere on your radar yet.”

“but, what about when my mom pulls some more bull again, talkin’ about me movin’ to kansas n’all that? because now it won’t just be her, it’ll be another one she’s gon’ try to use as leverage and-“

“ted, breathe.”, you’d sat up now and rubbed at his arms that were wrapped around your daughter.

“that.. what happened when your mom came here last time isn’t going to happen again. we’re not putting any of us through that regardless of if we have another one or not.. did she call again?”

“yeah. last night while you had the kids in the bath. throwin’ all kinds of stuff out there about this being a ‘phase’ n’all that. told her to call me if there’s an emergency and just hung up.”

you were both silent, and you could tell his blood was boiling just as yours was.

“i’m proud of you ted. i know she’s being.. difficult.”

“m’just scared because.. havin’ another just gives me more chances to screw ‘em up and i don’t- i couldn’t.”, his eyes stayed fixed on the little girl in his arms as his voice grew tight.

“you haven’t screwed anything up. you love these kids, you love me. you were literally meant to be a dad and, shit, a husband too. you have the most gentle, kind, loving heart. there’s not a single bit of me that worries about these kids with you.”

“s’just so easy to imagine sometimes, you know? I worry about somethin’, then I imagine it happenin’ and I start circling the drain..”

“you’re growing and learning too, just like them. it’s okay to worry, hun.. but they’re here, and they’re wonderful.. they’re you.”

“it has been brought up by the boys lately.. especially now that she’s getting older.”

a smile had finally appeared on his face.

“just think about it, ted. doesn’t have to happen tonight. just want you to know that i’m beyond happy to have another baby with you, love.”, your words were exactly what he needed to hear.

“we may need to get to practicin’ then..”

thanks for reading!

[kingdaddydaichi]

Need a quick break from writing for Daichi. Let me get this out of my system then I'll go write another 10k words for my King Daddy...

k. bokuto x reader (fem)

nsfw. mdni. size kink.

I just KNOW Bokuto has a size kink! I’ve always hc’d that he likes short girls. And I don’t mean just girls who are shorter than him bc that’s…well pretty much all of them. I’m talking about girls who are like 5’4” or less. The closer to 5’0” the better in his book.

Bo thinks it’s the cutest thing when you tug on shirt and pout up at him when you want to give him a kiss.

His heart swoons when he leans down to kiss you and you stand on your tippy toes bc it shows him that you’re doing your best to meet him halfway.

The first time y’all are at a concert together and Bo can see over everyone’s heads, and he notices you standing on your tip-toes, craning your neck this way and that trying to see over people’s shoulders. Then he squats down so you can sit on his shoulders with the back of his neck between your legs. And when he slowly stands up to give you a better view, your eyes light up and you're like Princess Jasmine when she sings 🎶 IT’S A WHOLE NEW WORRRRLD 🎶 “so THIS is what the world looks like from almost 9 feet up!”

In typical himbo fashion, Bo has been known to scan the area wherever y’all are, looking for you and when he calls your name, you flatly say, “down here, Bo.” And he looks down while the biggest grin graces his sweet face bc he’s just so happy he found you. “Hey, baby! I thought I lost you there for a second!”

When he’s hitting it from behind, it turns Bo on to no end to be able to hunch all the way over you and give you little love bites on the back of your neck. He can kiss you without straining with his arms right next to yours, your fingers interlaced together. It makes his cock throb inside you when you moan in his mouth, his big hands pressing yours into the mattress while he slaps his strong, wet hips against your ass.

Missionary is a little awkward with Bo because your face is level with his chest, but it does provide the perfect opportunity to tease his nipples with your tongue. Mans has the most sensitive nips so when you lick and gently nip at them, Bo's pretty golden eyes roll back while his whole body shudders with pleasure. But he does try his best to kiss you while he's making love to you. You're making him feel so amazing all over, he doesn't even notice the discomfort in his back from forcing his spine to arch into an unnatural position sksskkksss. Then again, his back is pretty damn flexible. Have you seen the way it curves when he goes for a spike? 👁👄👁

Leaves you breathless when he's about to cum bc he throws his weight against you, fucking into you harder. He just doesn't know his own strength? But you don't mind bc the grunts and groans that leave this man's lips when he's about to bust a fat nut inside you give you life, and you swear you don't need to breathe anyway.

Is there anything sexier than making a brick shithouse of a man whimper your name when your orgasm hits and your tight pussy clamps down on his monstrous cock? No. No, there isn't.

Let me tell you, getting railed against the wall by Bo is a religious experience. The way he's effortlessly got your relatively tiny body pinned against the wall with your legs dangling over his forearms? His cock hitting spots that it just won't reach in any other position? His long fingers squishing into the fat of your ass as he guides you up and down all 9 inches of his slippery dick. And you're babbling between whimpers of his name while he presses his forehead to yours and grunts, "I'm so in love with you, baby owl. Always gonna take good care of you and treat you right," the force of his thrusts audible in his needy voice as he desperately tries to fuck all his love into you. He'll have both of you seeing the promised land. 🙏

There. I feel better now. This list is by no means exhaustive, but at least I got some of it off my chest. Thanks for listening.

tagging my fellow bokuhoes: @yuujispinkhair @luvkun4 @briokayama @chaoskrakenuwu @crystal-lilac

bokuto mlist | haikyuu mlist

[xuseokgyu]

🦌.

[loverofallthingssarah]

With arms wide open

Request: i was hoping you could write evil queen w/ pregnant wife i feel like she would be so cute in the EF and so over protective ☺️ @thestrangecollectioncycle

WARNING: none

Word count: 600+

A/N: sorry for any mistakes or typos! I also kind tweaked the idea which i hope is okay but anyway I hope you like it!! Also I know this isn’t a sarah character fic but I hope you all enjoy anyway!

Her protectiveness of the ones she loves the most was stronger than ever. She didn’t want you to lift a finger. She had everything under control and all you had to do was rest. You hated every second of that, all you wanted to do was nest, but Regina made sure she had her faintly liege handle everything. But it wasn’t for your lack of trying.

Today marked your eighth month of pregnancy, and you wanted to redo a few aspects of the baby’s nursery. Regina had just left the master suite to handle some duties, and you knew now was the perfect time to slip past all the guards without her watchful eye. As you waddle down the hallway, you rub circular motions on your swollen tummy. You felt a kick just as you passed through the doorway of the nursery.

“Yes, little flower. . This is your room!” you giggled as you made a beeline towards the baby toys. You get lost in your organization thinking about how wonderful it’s going to be to see Regina with your babygirl. You know how soft she is with you and you already know she’s going to wrapped around her tiny fingers. And before you know it, you hear a familiar tsk coming from the other side of the room. You immediately lift your arms, “I surrender,” you laugh out as your turn to face your beautiful wife.

“Very funny! What have I told you about over exerting yourself? You never listen…,” Regina babbles as you watch her adoringly. No one would have guessed the notorious Evil Queen would care for anyone quite the way she does for you. The worrisome Regina was a new character development in your ever evolving wife and you found it kind of cute.

“Baby, relax! Everything is fine. See?” you gesture at yourself, “I’m just organizing her room! And you interrupted,” Regina scoffs, “just in time. I’m finished.”

“Well, well. I must say it does look better in here, petal.” Regina says and she moves in closer to you. You feel her arms wrap around you as she pulls you in tight. You swoon as you feel her nose nuzzling against your neck, “I’ve missed you and my little princess.”

“Regina, it’s only been an hour,” you rolled your eyes playfully, “you haven’t missed much.”

The baby starts to kick again, “I see, my little princess missed me too,” Regina walks around to face you, and gets down on her knees. She places a single kiss on your tummy, “I can’t wait to meet you, pretty princess.”

“She’ll be here soon enough, Regina. Let’s not rush it!” Regina huffs, “Fine! It’s just that I want to hold her so badly. Anyway, we still haven’t picked out a name yet! I think it’s about time we picked something, don’t you?”

You nod, as you think to yourself. Regina starts spewing out horrid names and you blurt out, “Sarah?”

“Sarah? Why Sarah?” Regina asks.

“It means princess. She’s our little princess. She’ll forever be our little princess… it just seems fitting, you know?” you shyly reply.

Regina puts her hands on your belly and you both feel the baby kick, “I love you so, my little Sarah.”

Sfw taglist: @orchid-fairy @rainbow-hedgehog @twistedpoeticjustice @tissaias-lover @peggycarter-steverogers @mrsdeanhoward @citizenoftheworld-stuff-blog @commanderspeach @lanawinters-ily @lntlmate @sapphicforsarahh @talulahmae @billiedeansgirl @dreamypqulson @goodeday2u

[wallflowerimagines]

Hi! I looove your posts! Thank you so much for sharing your writing!

I was wondering… could you maybe write about the Four Lords with a shy S/O that gets bold and defensive when someone insults the lords? or calls them names? And the Lord’s reaction to the S/O acting different? Dk if im explaining myself >.<

Again! Love your work! Have a great day!

We stan protective partners on this blog!!

Warnings: uh...insults? They're pretty over the top😅 Also swearing.

Alcina Dimitrescu

Honestly, Alcina is more than able to defend herself.

She's got a tongue like a viper, and the thickest skin imaginable. If you really want to hurt her feelings, you have to be someone whom she already respects to a certain degree, or she won't even be phased.

Still, when she leaves a room, there's always some idiot that thinks it's a smart idea to talk shit.

Maybe it's a maid, maybe it's a guest in the Castle, but either way you're not having it.

"God, you're annoying." There was a pause before they opened their mouth again, and you rolled your eyes. "No please, by all means, continue to share your lack of taste with the rest of us."

You disassemble this dumbass, starting small with comments about their personality (trying to keep it classy), but escalating the more they choose to double down on the comments.

Alcina comes back into the room to find you practically screaming at this asshole.

"Look, all you have accomplished here today is revealing that you are a fundamental disappointment on every possible level. My life is worse now that I've heard you open your mouth, you disrespectful, shit licking worm fucker."

Alcina is stunned. You do not give off "aggressive guard dog" vibes at all, yet here you are defending her tooth and nail. While she had seen brief moments of your inner strength and protective streak (mostly towards her daughters) she just...never thought you would do the same for her.

It's not because she doesn't trust you or love you! But nobody has ever done something like this for her before? Ever? She's never had anyone try to protect her--not physically, and not even verbally. She's been so independent for so long that it's... Strange to see you support her so openly.

She doesn't need you to do this for her, she doesn't even expect it, but you do it anyway for no other reason than the fact that you love her. You want people to give her the respect she deserves.

I'm going to be real here: Alcina has never been closer to swooning before in her life. You're overcoming your shyness because you believe in her so much-- it's not a gesture meant to be romantic, but Alcina can't help but see this as a massive statement of your commitment to her.

Seriously. This is such a massive thing for her that if proposals weren't already on her mind, she is mentally picking out a ring for you the minute this happens.

Then, of course, she glides into the room, kisses you until you're breathless and babbling, and smirks at the unfortunate peon who thought they could get away with insulting House Dimitrescu.

She's in such a good mood that she's considering going easy on the idiot. Maybe removing their tongue would be enough of a warning?

Donna Dimitrescu

You don't really know how it's possible but apparently some people don't like Donna Beneviento? Some people think she's scary and unpleasant????

Wild. Can't imagine what that's like.

The two of you are honestly the sweetest, most toothrottingly adorable couple-- blushing when you hold each other's hands, sneaking glances at each other across rooms, giving each other kisses and forgetting whatever was on your mind...

Honestly, anybody who's critical of your relationship with your girlfriend is just a hater. Fuckers can pound sand😤

Still, you are pretty shy, so it takes a lot for you to defend yourself if someone comments about you. It can take a lot of courage to stand up against rude remarks, and sometimes it's easier to walk away.

Defending Donna, on the other hand?

The minute someone even thinks about dismissing her, you are ready to throw hands.

"My lovely girlfriend already said no, meaning you're either deaf or too stupid to pick up on simple social cues," you purse your lips and give the rude and pushy Villager a patronizing once over. "You and your opinion are equally useless. Get the fuck away from us."

Donna blinks.

She... Was not expecting this??? At all?? You're so nice! You always tell her about your attempts to avoid confrontation! What's going on??? How did you get the guts to say what she's always wanted to say?

Meanwhile, Angie is LIVING.

The little doll chimes in to assist you with the verbal homicide, working as a tag team to absolutely murder this moron. She's half partner, half hype man, and is so excited to do this with you. Normally, she has to protect Donna all by herself, but she's relieved and reassured that you stepped in first.

'USELESS IS TOO NICE, THOUGH! THAT IMPLIES THEY AREN'T A POINTLESS, RANCID, LONELY FREAK. THEY LOOK LIKE THEY CRY WHEN THEY MASTURBATE.'

You high five Angie, still glaring daggers at the unfortunate villager.

The two of you continue to ream into the villager, while Donna hovers nearby.

As surprised as she is, she's also grateful. She's only really ever had Angie to help shield her from insults and disrespect (and occasionally inducing horrifying hallucinations that make people claw off their own skin), but having you in her corner makes her feel safe.

Not to get totally sappy, but you're like her knight in shining armor in a lot of ways. And the fact you two are so similar is really motivating-- She wants to one day be confident enough to return the favor. Until then, she's happy to watch her two favorite people have fun insulting some stranger ❤️

Salvatore Moreau

With you being so shy, Salvatore is surprised how often he takes the lead in your relationship.

He's not normally all that outgoing, but you seem to bring out a side of him that's very protective. Whenever you have a bad day he wants to bundle you up and keep you safe from the world.

If he so much as holds your hand you start stuttering and avert your gaze. It creates a feedback loop where you both get flustered, but Moreau has never felt steadier. Despite your shyness, you make sure he knows how much you love him.

You're sweet as pie and twice as kind--Salvatore is the luckiest man in the world, nobody can convince him otherwise 💕💕

So it comes as a total shock that when a passing fisherman spits in your path and calls him a freak, your entire demeanor does a 180.

Your posture straightens and you look the villager dead in the eye, "I don't believe anyone asked your opinion."

Salvatore: 😳

This is not the time, and he totally knows it, but, uh, something about your tone??? Really does it for him???

While he's attempting to process why exactly he's starting to short circuit, you proceed to verbally shred this person to bits with clinical efficiency-- nothing is off limits.

They might try to defend themselves, but it's useless. You do not let up.

"Ugly? Monster? Bitch your teeth are throwing gang signs, don't throw stones from your shining glass house."

You insult their appearance, what they're holding, their smell-- you get so fucking mean that you might even make them cry.

Moreau is just lost right now, trying hard to figure out how exactly you were able to gain all of this confidence so quickly.

He's not upset! In fact he's very flattered! But, he also doesn't want you to get into a fight with some unimportant stranger. (After all, if they so much as throw a punch, they're straight up dead. Moreau is a patient man, but he's not that patient. You do not hurt his partner and live to tell the tale.)

He may a healer but...

Eventually he steps between you and the fisherman in an attempt to deescalate the situation, but you just kiss him on the cheek and step around him, determined to make your point.

Blushing hard, Moreau lets you do what you want. What can he say? Fish man likes himself a protective partner 💞

Karl Heisenberg

Magnet Man is not the most social guy to begin with, so any opportunities you have to stick up for him are already pretty slim.

He mostly knows you as the shy, sweet, easily flustered partner that lets out a cute squeak every time he sneaks up to hug you from behind.

Karl's honestly happy just to spend time with you all alone in the Factory. It's not the best or healthiest mindset, but he'd be perfectly content to only ever see you for the rest of his life. Spending time with anybody else feels like a boring waste in comparison.

But occasionally, you do head out into town with him. Heisenberg wants you to be safe so he doesn't do it often, but running errands with you is a weakness of his. It's domestic in a way that he's never experienced before.

He likes it ❤️

What he does not like is the shopkeeper starting to give their opinions on the quality of your relationship with him.

Most insults Karl will let slide because he doesn't particularly care. However if anyone makes a comment on how scared (shy) you look around him, how you must be being threatened into being with him, how poorly Lord Heisenberg is treating you...he won't stand for it.

But before his fingers can even twitch towards his hammer, you snap.

"You're clearly the blindest cocksucker I've ever met--so wipe the cum out of eyes and mind your own fucking business."

Karl does a double take.

He's heard you curse before, but quietly. The words coming out of your mouth are WILD right now, he has NEVER seen you so angry. You're defending him with the aggression of a wild animal, and it's simultaneously HILARIOUS, but for some reason he's also getting a warm fuzzy feeling in his chest?

He doesn't need you to protect him like this, but seeing you blatantly argue how much you love and cherish him in public reassures him in a way he didn't know he needed.

Still, hearing you call the shopkeeper "shit for brains" is the funniest thing that's happened in years.

Heisenberg starts laughing, and the more you shout at the idiot, the harder he laughs. Is it weird how hard he wants to kiss you right now?

Eventually, he just has to drag you away, cackling as you continue to shout insults at the unfortunate shopkeep. There's got to be an alley around here for some good old fashioned privacy 💕

[multifandomwritings]

Hii, may I get slashers with a S/O who is insecure about their height because they've been told all throughout their life that they are too short and people like taller hoomans? Because of that, they feel a little ridiculous when standing next to the slasher in question (They are 150cm tall, I think that would be around 4'11 - 5'0 ft) Thank you for reading and have a lovely day!

Aww sure, so sorry for how long this took! Hope you like it ^^ (Also being short is super cute so!! Whoever told you otherwise is wrong!! Also, height differences are super cute so the slashers with a short s/o would be so cute T-T)

I barely had time to proofread this and wrote it pretty quickly but I felt bad for not posting anything in a while so I'm sorry if there are mistakes or it isn't too good >_>

How the slashers would react to an S/O who is insecure about being shorter

Thomas:

- Thomas would find your height so precious, but he’d also be extra gentle and careful with you, since you’re smaller

- If you were insecure about your height he’d be so confused. He’d feel ridiculous standing by you, feeling all big and bulky — why are *you* insecure? 

- It might actually make him feel a little better, in a weird way. If you could be insecure about something that he found cute about you, maybe it would be the same the other way around? 

Brahms:

- He *adores* your height. You’re so small next to him he could melt

- Would nearly engulf you with his hugs, wrapping you up in his cardigan and loving how folded up in him you were

- When you mentioned you were insecure about it, he’d tilt his head in confusion and would very firmly tell you that whoever made you feel insecure about being short was *wrong*, no further discussion! 

Michael:

- Michael would simply raise an eyebrow at the sudden revelation that you’re insecure about your height, unsure why anyone would think being short is bad

- I mean Michael really isn’t the guy to go to for reassurance, but he’d somehow manage to make you feel better about it anyway, just by not even really understanding and being confused by why anyone would care

- Michael isn’t the type to easily get close to you or be affectionate, so when you kept your distance from him when he tried, he’d get kind of upset. Like...he’s /trying/ Y/N!...What’re you doing T-T When you explained it was because you feel kind of ridiculous because of being shorter, he’ll just sigh, wrapping his arm around you to reassure you in his own subtle way 

Jason:

- Like Thomas, Jason would feel a little bulky and big next to you, so hearing you admit that you were insecure about your height would surprise him a lot

- Scrambling clumsily right away to reassure you, as he would with any insecurity you had

- You’re so small next to him! He thinks you're so cute, he melts anytime you look up to meet his gaze or stand on your tiptoes to kiss him. Very protective and gentle

Bubba:

- Bubba thinks you’re the cutest. You’re so small next to him, he’d want to wrap you up and protect you

- Like Thomas, he’d also be extra careful and gentle with you out of fear he might hurt you accidentally. If you reassured him however, he’d be so affectionate, spoiling you with all the hugs and little pats on the head that he could

- If you mention that you’re insecure about your height, he’d shake his head vehemently to reassure you. He loves your height!

Chop Top:

- Chop Top doesn't even notice your height until you point it out by telling him you're insecure about it

- He'll reassure you kind of strangely by listing off some of the benefits of being shorter, all while chuckling nervously and watching your reactions to see if it was working

- Just be patient and go with it! He wants to make you feel better but it makes him surprisingly nervous because he isn't used to it and doesn't know what to say. He's sincere though!

Nubbins:

- He loves your height difference! He isn't picky though, he wouldn't mind either way. Still, he can't help but think it's so cute how small you are next to him

- Honestly though he really doesn't think too much about it. Height is height, y'know? He'd think it's cute but it wouldn't be something he noticed right away or anything like that

- When you tell him you're insecure about your height, he'll really just be confused as to why. He's always liked your height!

Beetlejuice:

- Beetlejuice is on the shorter side (at least compared to everyone else on this list) so of course he’d love it! You’d make him feel taller lol

- Will reassure you about any insecurities you have with joking self deprecating humor to cheer you up (and let you know that he also has some insecurities, even if he doesn't always show them)

- In all seriousness, he'll actually be pretty good at making you feel better about it. Definitely makes a comment or two about how ridiculous it is that anyone told you it's a bad thing though!

Candyman:

- Daniel is so over-the-top romantic, he'd just spoil you with pretty words until you felt better

- Anytime you mentioned anything you were insecure about, he’d be very quick to bombard you with compliments and affection

- He loves your height. Makes you swoon by lifting your chin gently with his finger anytime he kisses you, or anytime he’s being particularly sweet with his verbal affection

Bo:

- Bo finds your height cute. He really wouldn’t get why you were insecure about it 

- But Bo being Bo, he’d have a hard time being sweet and reassuring about it. He wants to so bad, he loves you so much and wants to tell you that you’re cute and reassure you, but like..../how/

- So when you bring it up one day it would be responded to with awkward, angry babbling about how you having nothing to be insecure about. He’d genuinely want to make you feel better but he’d also be mad at whoever told you you’re too short 

Vincent:

- Vincent is so sweet and understanding with any insecurities you have. He has his fair share of them too, so he know how it feels

- Similar to Bo, he'd be upset that anyone made you feel insecure about it anyways. He'll be surprisingly defensive if anyone makes any comments like that while he's around

- Really loves everything about you and wants you to too. Definitely a sweetheart when it comes to reassuring you and making you feel better about it

Lester:

- Lester is also on the shorter side (again just by slasher standards lol) so he thinks it’s cute! 

- He wouldn’t really mind about height either way. Tall or short, it would matter to him. But when you told him you were insecure about it, he’d be so quick to reassure you

- Lester is a sweetheart. If he even suspects you’re insecure about something he’ll clumsily compliment you on whatever it is. He also loves that you’re both on the shorter side, will say you have to stick together for that reason x-x (he can tell if you feel insecure while standing next to him too, which will earn you a reassuring pat on the arm and a cute smile to make you feel better)

Graverobber:

- He'll probably tease you a little about it, I won't lie. He can be kind of a butt sometimes (I mean this lovingly I promise)

- Only he can tease you, though. If anyone else says a word about it he'll get uncharacteristically serious and defensive, especially if you are visibly bothered by it

- He loves your height though, and will take advantage of it. Your head is now his arm/hand rest, and he'll pat it a lot randomly, too. If he's in a softer mood, he'll actually be really sweet and reassuring. Definitely loves engulfing you with his hugs, too

Luigi:

- If anyone made any comments about your height while Luigi was around (or even so much as looked at you the wrong way) he'll be so defensive of you

- If you put physical distance between yourself and him because you don't want it to be obvious, he'll actually be kind of hurt? He feels better by you and might be a bit bitter

- This will only encourage him to help you overcome your insecurity, though

Pavi:

- Pavi adores everything about you, including your height of course. Genuinely shocked when you admit you’re insecure about it, in his own overly dramatic way

- Pavi has insecurities too, so he’s actually quite good at reassuring you. Makes you laugh with how over-the-top he is as he showers you with compliments, most of which aren’t even related to your height, to cheer you up

- If anyone makes you feel bad about your height or says anything he'll turn so red (not that you can really tell) and ardently defend you! (not without some timidity of course)

Billy Lenz:

- He’d probably call you nicknames related to your height at first, to be honest. He wouldn’t even think it would upset you, as he’d find your height cute

- The second he realized you were insecure about it though he’d feel so bad, clamming up and apologizing right away. Even if you didn’t mind his nicknames he wouldn’t use them anymore

- Compliments and reassures you a lot, even when you don’t bring it up. He’d actually be pretty observant of you, always able to tell if you were feeling insecure, quickly (and clumsily) bombarding you with a bunch of sweet words, watching your expression and grinning in self-satisfaction when he finally got you to crack a smile

Asa (The Collector):

- You won’t even have to mention being insecure about your height, he’s intuitive enough to notice on his own

- He’d notice just by your body language when you were next to him, keeping your distance as you’d feel ridiculous standing by him. He’d be wickedly amused, pulling you closer to him and winding his arm tightly around you

- Despite being kind of a tease, he really likes your height and doesn’t want you to be insecure. So in his own way, he’ll /try/ to reassure you

[milkytheholy1]

Bad-boy got game

Request: Hello again!!! 👋 if you’re requests are open and you’re feeling it…

I need, some soft pining. From Rise!Donnie, specifically. I have a half-formed idea of the guys meeting reader during a mission of sorts, where it ends with them breaking an object(a camera, phone, laptop etc) and the reader looking DEJECTED, not even mad. And of course Donnie could fix it…but rise!donnie’s trying to be the emotionless bad boy™ right? But no. Sad reader eyes. Says ‘no, it’s fine. I’ll just replace it :(‘ and he feels guilty, and she looks SO sad, so he does it anyway. He gives her the new and donnie-improved whatever, with all her old shit intact (memory/sd card) and does the usual ‘aren’t I an amazing genius ’ bit, and she’s just like “yeah, you really are :)” and wow reader is so cute and Donnie.exe has stopped working

And now they’re sort of friends but there’s ~pining~ 😌

Lmao sorry ignore this if its rambly or dumb

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

TMNT masterlist

Ultimate masterlist

“Okay, so if my calculations are correct, which they usually are, Shredder should be visible from this rooftop in 15 minutes.” Donnie stated, his fingers moving fast over his tech-brace. Raph stood beside him full of nerves, his teeth jittering louder than his incohesive babbling, “Are you sure you’re right, Donnie?”

“Wha- gasp!” Donnie lamented, a hand placed against his chest in mock offence, “I am 100% certain that he’ll appear,” he declared proudly, turning his shell to his brothers as he whispered to himself: “Well, 87% certain.”

“What was that, D?” Leo asked from behind him, Donnie waved his hand around dismissively, “Nothing, nothing,”. Liar. The boys had been tracking the Shredder for over a week, using social media and Donnie’s dumb math equations to figure out where he would appear next. Mikey was laying on his shell, half of his limbs hanging over the building while the other half resided on the cemented rooftop, “I’m booooreeed,” he whined.

Donnie huffed out a breath of frustration, “Well maybe if you were on the lookout, like you were supposed to be, you wouldn’t be so bored.” he gritted through clenched teeth. Leo slid up to Mikey, nodding his head in agreement, eyes squinted shut and a hand under his chin, “I agree with Mikey, this is boring.”

“It’s only borin’ because nothin’s happened yet, look, if Donnie says Shred-head is gonna show up then we gotta believe him.” Raph cheered, the wind blowing his mask tails majestically. Donnie walked up to Raph with a cock in his step, placing a hand against his arm since he couldn’t quite reach his brother’s shoulder, he sent the others a devilish smile.

“Gee, thank you, Raph! I’m glad someone appreciates my talents.” Donnie swooned. Raph rolled his eyes and continued in an overly positive tone, “Even if Donnie brought us here 20 minutes earlier than what we needed.” Donnie continued to smile at Leo and Mikey in a confident manner, his eyes only blinking open when Raph’s words sunk in, “Thanks, Raph, wait wha- Hey!” he cried. Donnie could faintly hear the light chuckles from his two brothers, only adding fuel to the angered fire inside of him.

On the other side of town, you were busy taking pictures with your brand new camera. You had brought it for your photography course, practically costing you an arm and a leg to buy it, but you wouldn’t trade it for the world. You had essentially fallen in love with the thing, envious of how well it could take pictures and broadcast a clearer image than what your eyes could see.

You had been walking all over New York in hopes to take the picture, the picture that would scream ‘New York City’. You had yet to find it, wandering through Central Park, at the top of the Empire State, even going so far as to get to the top of the Statue of Liberty; but nothing. Even though all the things you had taken pictures of were only found in New York it didn’t feel like the city to you. You needed something with pizzaz like a jazz player, an air of confidence and grace that you couldn’t find in a ballerina, a sense of realism that came from everyday life that made the picture relatable to so many.

At first you thought maybe finding a New Yorker would work, what’s more New York than the people that lived there and made up the massive island. When everyone you ever asked passed up the opportunity, either in a rush to get to work or just grouchy, you sulked and instead made your focus on nature and wildlife. When that inevitably failed you just opted to wait for the opportunity to present itself, there was no use in forcing a picture because then it wouldn’t feel real.

You went where ever the wind took you, which happened to just be a few houses away from where the turtles were waiting for their rabid prey.

“I wanna use the binoculars!” Mikey cried, stretching his body over Leo’s to grab said binoculars from his hands. Leo went on the tips of his toes, holding his head high to avoid Mikey’s quick swipes, “It’s my turn with the binoculars, Mikey, wait your turn!”

“But I haven’t had a turn,”

“Precisely.” Leo smirked, jumping away to avoid his younger brother. Mikey quickly followed in pursuit, pushing Leo up against the edge of the building as to reach the binoculars. Leo held them over the edge, teasing the poor box-turtle as he kept faking dropping them.

“Lee-he-he-o!” Mikey wailed, tugging on his brother’s sash across his chest, pulling and tugging the poor boy back and forth like a ragdoll. By accident, Leo released the binoculars when he went to push Mikey away, “Lay off, Mikey!” both soon froze and looked over the edge of the building after they heard a cry.

Donnie and Raph turned to them with laser focus, a deep glare coming from both of them as they tried to concentrate on the mission. Leo and Mikey gave each other a side glance, all was quiet on the rooftop until:

“He did it!”

“He did it!”

They announced at the same time, both pointing an accusing finger towards the other. Donnie and Raph exchanged a glance, forcing their attention away from their goal and onto this whole situation. Leaning over the rooftop, the brothers saw the glint of (H/C) from below and something smashed in front of them. Cautiously they made their way down, not wanting to be seen by the human crouched amongst the shards that remained of their binoculars.

Approaching you further, they noticed that their binoculars were intact, a little scathed but otherwise unharmed. That only meant that whatever was laying on the floor in pieces was yours and totally their fault it got smashed, “Ooooh, looked expensive too.” Leo cringed from the fire escape. Looking up at the sound you caught their gaze, they all tried to back away quickly but failed miserably and fell to the ground in a pile.

The three brothers on the bottom were small and skinny, groaning and moaning as they rubbed their sore bones. Screaming interrupted them, glancing up a large turtle fell from the sky, “Look out guys!” he yelled. The three turtles on the floor flinched, screaming and begging him not to land on them, their arms and legs flailing around. Their voices were effectively silenced when the big one landed on them, tongue sticking out and all.

You watched quizzically, amazed that these creatures were real, they were real right? Moving your gaze from them and back to the camera, you felt the regular feeling of salty tears building up in your eyes. You had worked so hard for that camera, working way too many shifts at work and living off of very little food just to be able to afford it. Now all that hard work was gone.

The four turtles in front of you finally stood up, the three smaller ones sending a death glare to the larger one. He seemed to rub his hand against his neck and give them a cheeky smile as an apology, the others huffed out a breath and looked over to you. Quickly realising that you were sat in front of them, their spines grew strict, sweat beading down their faces from under their masks.

“Hello, human, we are also humans looking for the comic convention-” Raph started, avoiding your gaze. Leo cut him off, using a hand to display his body, “Yes, a comic convention which we are currently dressed for.” They all gave you a toothy smile, their wide eyes never blinking, it made you feel uncomfortable. “Oh, I didn’t know they held those things at night.” you mused, not really believing them.

Donnie stepped forward with a nervous laugh, finger pointed up towards the sky, “Erm, er, we’re actually late, like, really late. Oh no, we’re so late, what are we even doing? Why are we even out here dressed like dumb ninja turtles, hahahahaha” he nervously rambled. Leo elbowed him in the side, “Dude,” he hissed out with a glare. The boys went slack when they heard you laugh, bodies easing however when they saw the genuine smile on your face.

Donnie couldn’t help the flutter in his stomach when he saw your smile, like his heart grew three sizes when he first laid eyes upon you. Seeking to be closer to you, he took timid steps towards you and bent down to see the remains of a camera; your camera. Too transfixed by his presence beside you, the way his goggles shone in the moonlight, his broad shoulders, and that tech-shell, two words: Amaze-ing.

When you met his gaze he seemed to blush, cheeks illuminating a bright pink. “I-I can fix it for you, o-only if you want.” why was he stuttering, Donnie doesn’t stutter; Donnie never stutters. Looking away from you and gaining some self-control to help his -quote on quote- bad boy image, he looked back to the broken camera and started planning in his head the components he’d need to fix it.

“It’s okay, I’ll just wait and buy a new one.” you sounded so disheartened, so broken much like your camera. Donnie instantly shot to you, eyes wide, “Wha-I mean, I just offered to fix it for you, it’s really no hassle at all.” You waved your hand dismissively, reminding Donnie of his actions earlier towards his brothers, all of which had disappeared into the night when they felt the suffocating air between you and Donnie.

Don’t blush, don’t blush. Remember your bad-boy image, bad-boy image Donnie, bad-boy image.

“It’s truly fine-” you cut off, awaiting his name. Donnie seemed to be on a long pause, his brain halting production as he felt his heart beat louder for you. Shaking his head he finally replied, “Donatello, well, Donnie for short; D, if you wanted to go even shorter.”

Stop rambling, stop rambling.

“Well, Donnie, I appreciate the help but I want to earn this camera like the last time.” you spoke, moving to stand up after you felt your legs screaming at you to move. Donnie followed your actions the moment he saw your legs twitch up, “Last time?” he questioned, prompting you to carry on.

“Yeah, I worked a lot of shifts at work, probably enough to make it illegal.” you mused, a little laugh snorted out of your nose. Wow, you really did work hard for this camera and here comes Donnie and his brothers to ruin the day. Although in fairness, Donnie wasn't the one to drop the camera....but he did give the binoculars to Leo in the first place.

Idiot.

After waving a quick goodbye to you, and a short celebratory dance for scoring your number, Donnie swept up the pieces of the broken camera and poured them into a compartment in his battle shell.

Once he made it back to the lair, he ignored the kissing sounds his brothers were making at him and made a b-line for his lab. He sat there for a few hours working on fixing your camera, all the guilt helping him pursue onwards. Of course, it shouldn't have taken him a few hours to do, with Donnie being a genius and all, but he got distracted every time his phone vibrated with a message from you.

You had been texting each other all night, only really stopping when you had passed out from exhaustion at a whopping 5.30am. Donnie smiled at his phone after the last text was sent, knowing you wouldn't see it until the morning, or late afternoon in your case. Adding some last-minute adjustments to the camera, and discretely perusing all the pictures you had taken that day, Donnie called it quits and went to bed himself.

After tracking down your apartment, with the added help of you giving him your address, Donnie scampered across the roofs of New York to give you your gift; a new and Donnie-improved camera!

Tapping on your window with a bent knuckle, Donnie nervously treaded on your fire escape while he waited for you to answer. With the same beaming smile he saw yesterday, your face was right in front of his, "Hey, Donnie, or should I call you D." you teased. The soft-shell turtle could feel his cheeks heat up again, suppressing the urge he chuckled, "Ha ha, very funny, anyway, here, I brought you a little something." he ushered the carefully wrapped box into your hands. You gave him a confused head tilt, what brought this on? You had only met yesterday!

Tearing off the wrapping paper and flinging open the box your eyes caught the sparkle of the very camera you worked so hard to get. A gasp blew past your lips, eyes widening in surprise. Dropping the box with the camera delicately placed in your hands, you marvelled at it; it looked completely fine! No cracks no nothing!

"I know you said you didn't want me to fix it but I just couldn't help myself, I couldn't let you pour even more hours into getting a new one." he started to mumble off, avoiding your gaze; gotta preserve the bad-boy attitude. You placed the camera on your bed behind you, treating it like a China Doll. Turning back to Donnie, eyes meeting his, you launched your arms around him with a squeal.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" you repeated over and over again, cheeks rubbing up against his. Donnie faltered but eventually wrapped his arms around your shoulders and awkwardly patted you on the back, "I'll also accept genius as a name by the way," he huffed out in a laugh. Pulling back with rosy cheeks, you gleamed your teeth at him, "Well it does fit, hm?" you mused, tracing a finger along his cheekbones.

Donnie shuddered accidentally, praying he didn't close his eyes so he could continue to memorise the exact look you were giving him. He knew it, Donnie knew having a bad-boy image would get him a woman one day.

In your face, Leo!

[taetaesbaebaepsae]

Lunar Violence (jjk)

Summary: You’re not a big fan of your best friend’s favorite band, Lunar Violence. Their werewolf gimmick makes you roll your eyes, even if the music isn’t too bad. When she drags you to a concert just as the blood moon rises, though, everything changes.

Warnings: werewolf sex, possessive behavior, choking, knotting, marking, heats and ruts so whatever consent issues you feel are within that realm, unrpotected sex, werewolf dick, abo dynamics

Word Count:7445

Rating: Explicit

You're not normally a fan of gimmicks, particularly with your music. So when your best friend begs you for a solid week to go with her to this concert, you're wary when you do a simple Google search.

Lunar Violence might be the dumbest fucking name for a band you've ever heard, but they certainly seem like they're going for a certain vibe. You'd definitely have been into it when you were a teen, the fake fangs, the facial piercings and torn leather pants, the howling they do at the ends of some of their songs.

The music itself isn't bad, the lead singer is stupid hot and has a smooth low tenor and bedroom eyes. 

You flip through only a few of the member pictures before making a decision based on the fact that they're good eye candy, at least.

Your friend Jia jumps up and down excitedly when you tell her and shows you the signs she's made. She's got a thing for the one they call Happy, a lean bassist who has a bright smile and a sexy glare.

"What are with these names? The seven dwarfs? I think they're mixing metaphors."

Jia snorts. "They call the drummer Baby because he's the youngest. It’s not that dumb and the music is really good, you’ll love it, I promise!"

"This is so dumb. You owe me."

"If I get close enough to Happy to make eye contact I'm gonna make him mine and then I'll give you anything you want." Jia says determinedly.

It’s a few weeks before the concert, so you find yourself listening to a few albums and actually getting pretty excited about it. It should be a fun time, get you away from the stress of your every day life, at the least.

You had no way of knowing that the night of the concert would complicate your life tenfold.

“Do we always have to schedule concerts around rutting season?” Namjoon whines after hitting yet another wrong chord on his guitar.

“It’s the best part about this job!” Hoseok grins.

“I can’t fucking concentrate being horny all the time, I agree with Joon,” Yoongi agrees, banging his forehead down on the keyboard.

“Should have called you Horny rather than Lucky,” Seokjin snorts, and Hoseok laughs so hard he nearly knocks over his bass guitar.

Jungkook watches them with a fond smile on his face, his brothers. Not by blood, of course but being the only werewolves in the city made them have an instant connection and camaraderie, and they’d created a pack pretty quickly. The music had come later, they’d all been interested in it, all had some talent and all been blessed with good looks, and after that it was only a matter of who did what and stage names.

Kim Seokjin, with his regal looks and sharp jaw: Prince.

Min Yoongi, with the scar over his left eye he’d gotten scrapping with a grey wolf in the woods behind his house in Daegu as a pup: Lucky.

Jung Hoseok with his easy smile and eager nature: Happy.

Kim Namjoon, always so serious and intelligent: Beethoven. 

Park Jimin, with his pretty face and sneaky smirk: Sly.

Kim Taehyung with his sweet nature and affectionate personality: Honey.

Finally, Jeon Jungkook, because he'd been barely old enough to breed when they'd met: Baby.

"Baby hasn't had his first rut yet, yeah?" It's Jimin, smirking, always giving Jungkook grief about something. 

Jungkook narrows his eyes and chucks a drumstick at him but it's no use, Jimin catching it in one band and twirling it like a goddamn baton. Jungkook would say Jimin was graceful if he hadn't seen him fall off about a dozen barstools and half a dozen stages, sober even for the latter.

“Kinda late, isn’t it?” Seokjin speaks up, and Jungkook knows he’s teasing but it stings a little, nonetheless. 

“He’s only just turned 23. You were two weeks from your 23rd before you ever popped a knot, hyung, or have you forgotten?” Namjoon snarks, and Jungkook snickers as Seokjin makes a face, that vein on his neck pulsing just a bit.

He shouldn’t laugh, they’re just as likely to come to blows during the beginning of a rut and in a full moon cycle, but he can’t help himself

Yoongi, as usual, manages to keep the peace by offering to order pizza and foot the bill, a truly saintlike act since they could go through a pizza each, as hot as their temperature would be running by now.

Jungkook doesn’t say that he’s had a knot for two years now, the very thought of his hyungs knowing that makes him blush so much he hides it by wiping his face with a towel, pretending to have been sweating. 

Truly, he should have had a rut by now, triggered by all the pheromones' from the shows they’d been doing, this tour had been particularly rough due to the upcoming blood moon, at least for all the other boys, and it isn’t as if Jungkook hasn’t mated, of course, but a full rut? Not even the hint of it. It worries him, but Namjoon keeps assuring him that everyone gets there in time, people are just different.

Taehyung had been a late bloomer himself, not starting his first rut until he met and fell in love with his girlfriend, a short feisty redhead he’d met after a hand injury from stringing his bass guitar and slicing his palm open. She’d been a nurse who scolded him for not coming in sooner and it’d been almost instant, her green eyes triggering every wolf thing about him, or at least that’s how he tells it, all wide eyed and dreamy.

She’s a near constant in Taehyung’s hotel rooms now, sometimes riding along on the tour bus, but he doesn’t let her into anymore of the concerts even when she pouts, because human mates around a group of wolves around rutting season can be a dangerous time.

Taehyung is one of the gentlest wolves Jungkook knows, but he’d seen him snarl when Yoongi so much as winked at the redhead near a rut, so it’s probably for the best.

Anyway, Jungkook wasn’t worried (much). He’d find his true mate eventually, but probably not at a concert. Maybe he’d start his rut there, at least, around the full moon. He’d never have imagined that he’d find both.

The crowd is nice enough, although they seem a little feral. Some of these girls have signs that should be x rated, but you're not one to judge, especially since you've never actually….done anything too x-rated. 

You feel a little strange when you enter the concert venue and you can’t quite put your finger on it. You shrug and blame it on the strong drink your friend had made you chug before you entered since she couldn’t finish it all herself.

It’s like there’s something living under your skin, some rush like heat, and it  makes you feel antsy, ready to dance along to the music or at least laugh at your friend losing her mind next to you.

There’s a lot of gimmick to the concert and it’s bright and dark at the same time near the stage. You’d swear you’d seen the guitarist strum with no pick, with a sharp claw instead, but you’re sure it’s makeup, part of the show. They’re wearing contacts, too, you’re pretty sure, and the music is good, your friend isn’t wrong.

The song you’d heard that you’d like is actually their encore song, heavy on the bass and drums, and the lead singer even makes your skin feel hot a little when he makes eye contact and winks at you. The last solo the lights come down on the drummer, he’s on the back stage so all you can see is his long hair bouncing, the flex of his admittedly impressive biceps as he finishes the song.

You’ve been jumping up and down and singing along so much that you’re sweating and feeling a bit dizzy, so you drag your friend out the back alley while she’s still swooning, having gotten a direct smile from her favorite bassist.

“Did you see him? He looked right at me! We’re in love, Y/n. Do you want to be my maid of honor?” She’s babbling when you hear the click of a lighter next to you.

There’s people milling about, it wasn’t exactly a sold out show but there was a decent crowd, and people are now piling into the bar next door.

“Did you like the show?” 

When you turn your head you’re shocked to see that it’s the lead singer, a couple strands of his silver hair falling over his eye as he smiles at you.

“Oh. Oh, yes, I liked it very...very much,” you stammer. He’s even more handsome up close. Those are some really good contacts, you can’t tell they aren’t real at all, even though surely no one’s eyes are a violet color like that.

“Sly!” Your friend screams, and you jolt forward, surprised.

The singer’s hand lights on your shoulder and you look down. You have time to think that they must make great money for these expensive special effects because they sure do look like claws before your friend rushes past you, yelling because Happy had come out the back with the rest of the band.

There’s no mob or anything, maybe a dozen people other than you and Jia, but it makes you a bit anxious nonetheless, especially since you’re still feeling just as antsy, hot and dizzy as you were before.

It might be worse, actually, as you stand outside in the moonlight.

“Sly’s just my stage name.” His voice sounds softer, closer to your ear as he leans in. “You can call me Jimin.”

“O-okay,” you stutter, unused to feeling this way. You’re usually more outgoing, talkative, but it feels so strange. You find yourself looking up at the sky as if looking for the moon.

It’s better, once you’re inside the bar, there’s not as much of a crowd and you’re sitting at a big table with Sly...Jimin, you remind yourself, and Jia and Happy, who seems to fit his name well, laughing open and loud with your best friend as if they’ve known each other forever.

After a few hours and a couple of drinks you’ve lost most of that antsy feeling since being indoors, and you and Jimin vibe well, becoming fast friends. You’re both flirty and talkative after getting to know each other, and your mood is lifted from the concert, the alcohol, and the socialization.

You even laugh about calling their gimmick dumb as they dodge questions about where they get their makeup and accessories. You assume it’s some kind of sponsorship situation or contract, not thinking much of it.

You manage to excuse yourself long enough to look for the bathroom, although Jia abandons you since she’s made her way into Happy’s lap, wrapping her arms around his neck and with a blissful smile you’re not sure you’ve ever seen on her.

There’s someone standing in the hall and it’s a narrow hallway and he’s pretty wide from the back so you stumble a little when you turn, placing a hand on the wall.

“Oh, excuse me!” You say, brightly, but when he turns you gasp, a little surprised by the bright red of his eyes before you realize it’s another member of Lunar Violence.

“Hello,” he says, quietly with a little smile and he has these prominent front teeth that are pretty cute, make him look a lot less intimidating, despite those contacts and an eyebrow piercing and his size.

“Oh, hello! You’re…”

“Baby,” he blurts, and it makes you giggle.

You feel a little tipsier than you’d realized, and you guess it must be since you’ve been sitting down for an hour or so and just gotten up.

He puts a hand over his face, embarrassed. “My name is Jungkook,” he explains. “I’m the drummer?”

It’s cute how his voice pitches up into a question, as if you wouldn’t recognize him. He’s definitely a bit more modest than the other two members you’d met, with Jimin and Happy (who you’d just learned also goes by Hoseoki), bragging about tours and performances. 

“Pretty big for a baby,” you tease, and he makes an embarrassed sound in the back of his throat.

“I keep trying to get them to let me change it,” he mutters.

You introduce yourself and he smiles again, and his eyes aren’t as red as you’d thought at first, anyway, maybe it’s just the light. You brush past him as you continue to the bathroom after excusing yourself, and it’s a little zing through you, like static electricity.

It takes you longer in the bathroom than it usually would, that last drink really must have packed a punch, and when you return to the table Jungkook is sitting there, too, next to your empty chair. Jimin looks a little sullen and pouty, but he smiles at you, those violet eyes crinkling up at the corners, and you give him a bright smile back.

Jungkook, on the other hand, is all energy, jiggling his leg and tapping his fingers on the table and Hoseok seems to be watching him intently.

The atmosphere in general seems to have changed, and after exchanging numbers with everyone with the urging of Jia, you two excuse yourself.

The three men walk you outside and Jimin is close while Jungkook hangs back. You imagine Jimin is so close since you mentioned feeling a bit dizzy and he asks you twice if he can call you a car but you tell him that the fresh air will do you good.

It’s funny, the moonlight seems to energize you a bit. When Jimin leans in to kiss you on the cheek, you jump a little at a sound behind you, something like a bark.

Jimin jolts back a little, eyes widening, and you both laugh at your nerves.

“Stray dog,” you remark, and Jimin snorts.

“Something like that.”

Namjoon pinches the bridge of his nose. “So what exactly the fuck happened after I left?”

Jimin is sullen on the couch, arms crossed over his chest with a busted lip and Jungkook is sitting next to Hoseok on the floor on the other side of the hotel room with tissue up his nose, Hoseok tilting his head back.

“Baby is about to go into rut,” Taehyung sings, laughing, his girlfriend draped over him on the bed drowsily, his teeth marks littering her neck and throat.

“Don’t,” Yoongi warns. “Everyone’s just wound up. Full moon is in two days, after all, cut him some slack.”

“Sees one girl he likes and suddenly no one else can talk to her,” Jimin complains, gingerly working his tongue across his lip ring to see if it’s torn.

“You tried to kiss her,” Jungkook growls, and Hoseok pushes on his chest to keep him from getting up.

Jungkook can’t explain why his wolf wanted to rip Jimin’s throat out when he leaned in to kiss you, he’d just met you, didn’t even know your last name, but it was visceral, sudden, something crawling up his throat. He’d almost moved forward to do it before Hoseok said his name, sharply.

“We all get a little possessive about potential mates around the full moon,” Namjoon reasons. “But that’s not the way to handle it, Jungkook.”

Jungkook hangs his head and removes the tissue from his nose with a shake of his head. “I’m sorry, hyung.” He looks over at Jimin but he means it for Namjoon. He’s still bitter, somehow, about Jimin’s hand on your lower back, his lips brushing your cheek. It makes his head feel fuzzy, his guts roll.

Namjoon, on the other hand, had been the one to “discover” Jungkook, back when he had no idea why his eyes were starting to change color with the moon cycles or why his nails grew out like claws. He’d started learning percussion just to get rid of some of the energy he had around those times, and he’d been 17 when Namjoon approached him in a music store when Jungkook was looking into buying cymbals. 

Jungkook had been abandoned when he was a baby, adopted at four years old and he had no idea about his wolf lineage, or even that they existed, until Namjoon explained it to him.

“Jungkook doesn’t know his lineage,” Namjoon reminds them all. “He might just be presenting as an alpha, that’s a lot around the full moon, Jimin, you remember.”

Jimin grumbles something under his breath and Jungkook has to take a deep breath through his nostrils, smelling iron from their scuffle earlier, in order not to lunge across the room and hit him again.

Eventually, Jungkook has to move to his own room despite usually bunking with Jimin, and he finds himself unable to sleep, staring at the ceiling. He keeps seeing your bright smile, your curls bouncing around as you talked and laughed, mostly at Jimin, and it makes him stiffen to think of how Jimin had met you first.

Why did it matter, anyway? You’re just a person, just like he is, just a girl, and he doesn’t have the best track record with talking to girls, anyway. You’d been in the front row, with your friend who Hoseok had gotten so smiley about, he’d seen you just before he started his set, his vision clearer around the full moon.

The others laughed at him for how he talked about “the wolf,” as if it wasn’t a part of him, as if it wasn’t who he was, but that’s how it had always felt. He just hadn’t had a name for it until he’d met Namjoon. It was like this thing, inside him, this beast, something that clawed and scratched to get out.

Seokjin keeps telling him that he’s fighting the wolf, that’s why he hasn’t gone into rut or popped his knot, that’s why he feels so achy and fidgety around the moon cycles, that’s why he hasn’t shifted. Namjoon would always respond there was no way to know that but Seokjin just rolled his eyes.

“Aish, I’m your hyung, listen to me. I fought mine, too, when I was young, and when I shifted I broke a few bones. You should give in, let it ride in the front seat once in a while.”

Jungkook had nodded at the time but now, he doesn’t know how to do that. Drumming helped, it was a lot of work and energy expelled and it felt like he could let him out, the wolf, just a little. It’s why he’d gotten so big, staying active and lifting weights was something the wolf liked.

The wolf came sometimes when he masturbated, too, when he’d feel particularly worked up around the full moon, after a concert, sweaty and rolling his hips into his hand.

When he tries it after meeting you, he can’t even finish, ending up panting and sore, the wolf still snarling over the memory of Jimin’s lips barely brushing across your cheek.

Surprisingly enough, it’s Jungkook who texts you first. Wanna go for a drink?

You’re not sure whether to say yes at first, you’ve been feeling so strange. You can barely sleep, your skin feeling hot, as if you’d burned yourself with a too hot shower. You think about that night at the concert a lot, Jimin’s violet eyes, Jungkook’s almost red ones, how odd you’d felt.

You would have talked to Jia about it but she’s been abducted by the werewolf band, apparently, you’ve barely seen her in a week and when you had she’d been littered with hickeys and with a big goofy smile.

Part of you wonders if this is all some sex ring cult but she seems happy, jubilant even, so you agree, meeting Jungkook at a downtown bar.

He’s there before you arrive, you can see him through the window sitting at a table, looking wide and a bit intimidating until he lifts his head and smiles at you with a little wave.

His eyes are a warm brown now, pretty and wide, you’re able to notice the shape more without the contacts.

Jungkook is still all energy, maybe that’s just how he is, talking to you more and more as the nights go on and you two share a pitcher of beer, scooting his chair closer. You find he flushes a pretty rose when you flirt with him and can’t stop laughing when he nearly falls out of his chair when you prop your legs up in his lap.

By the end of the night he can’t stop smiling at you and you’re intrigued, moreso than you’d imagined you would be when you’d first met him, smiling shyly at you at the bar near the concert. You start to feel funny again, your head fuzzy, probably from the alcohol.

When you tell him, he’s all wide eyed concern.

You giggle. “Now I know why they call you Baby.” 

He huffs a little. 

He walks you outside just as he did before but this time he doesn’t hang back, and when you reach the alleyway, he places a hand on the swell of your hip as you take a few deep breaths of the night air.

You’re surprised, laugh a little until you look up into his eyes. You’d swear they looked red tinged again, but surely it’s just the beer.

“Not a baby,” he murmurs, moving closer, pressing you up against the brick with his body, and you hitch in a breath.

“No?” You ask, boldly trailing your finger along his collarbone through the black tshirt he’s wearing.

He shakes his head, leaned down close enough to your face that his nose brushes yours.

“Prove it,” you tease, and he makes this rumbling sound in the back of his throat that makes goosebumps break out across your flesh.

He leans down further, nips at your lower lip, and you moan, body surging forward toward his as if it was made to fit it. You’re not sure if you kiss him or he kisses you, but his tongue is in your mouth, his hands on either side of your head, caging you in.

You feel hot all over, dizzy in the most pleasant way, at least until he pulls away, gasping.

You whine, a sound you don’t think you’ve ever made before, when he’s not touching you anymore.

“I’m sorry,” he gasps. “I’m sorry. I should go.”

He’s gone before you can even gasp out another whine of his name, and the moonlight on your skin burns instead of cools.

Jungkook tells this story in a burst to his bandmates the next day, hungover with his head pounding.

“You just left her there?” Jimin says, his face shocked, and Jungkook feels the wolf make a growl start at the back of his throat.

Namjoon puts a hand on his shoulder and it turns into a whine instead. 

“I’ve never felt him that close, hyung. Right at the surface. I wanted to…”

Namjoon and Seokjin meet eyes above Jungkook’s lowered head.

Jimin catches it. Jimin catches everything, it’s one of the best and worst things about him.

“What? You think…” Jimin laughs. “No. She can’t be his.... She’s not a wolf, I would’ve smelled it when-”

Jungkook surges out of his seat, a deep growl rumbling from his chest. “When what, Jimin?”

Jimin’s eyes glow a pale violet as he snarls back, uncaring that Jungkook towers over him.

In the end, Namjoon and Seokjin have to separate them physically as they bark and snarl at each other.

Hoseok and Taehyung are missing, having holed up to ride out their ruts with their human mates instead of the house the seven share.

Yoongi huffs out a breath. “He’s definitely presenting as an alpha.”

“No shit,” Namjoon barks, unusually on edge. 

Yoongi, Seokjin, and Taehyung are the betas of the group, and until now there had only been a slight difference among the bandmates despite their different rankings.

Alpha pheromones were stronger and their senses were more heightened around rutting season, particularly for other mates. 

In the end, they have to completely change how they house themselves, with Jimin sharing a room with Yoongi, and Jungkook sharing with Seokjin.

“I’m sorry, hyung,” Jungkook says miserably, his wolf finally calmed as he sits down on the bed.

“It’s not your fault,” Seokjin says, voice much less harsh than Namjoon’s had been earlier when he’d scolded him. “I saw Namjoon during this time, and it wasn’t easy.”

Jungkook looks up at the elder with wide eyes. “Really?”

Seokjin snorts and nods. “Yeah, around the full moon he was unbearable, snarling at everything.”

“I just didn’t want to scare her or...or hurt her...I wanted to put her against the wall and…” Jungkook trails off, embarrassed.

Seokjin only smiles and ruffles Jungkook’s hair. “That’s normal too, Baby. You wouldn’t have hurt her, especially if it’s what we think it is.”

“What...what does that mean?”

Seokjin shakes his head. “Something you gotta work out on your own.”

Jungkook groans and flops down on the bed as Seokjin laughs, heading downstairs to make dinner while things are calm.

He has trouble sleeping again, but this time instead of wondering why, he knew, could almost feel the soft skin of your hip on his palm like it was still there, how you’d moaned into his mouth, whined for him.

Jungkook isn’t sure there’s a cold enough shower to help.

You can’t seem to sit still as the full moon nears, feeling like you might jump out of your skin. You can’t count the number of friends you’d called but no one seems up to going out. You bite your lip while looking at Jungkook’s contact on your phone screen.

If you think about it long enough, you can still feel the way he pressed against you, how the hair on the nape of your neck stood up when he nipped at your lip, how hot you’d felt, how wet…

You sigh and scroll up, seeing Jimin’s name instead. Jimin had been fun to be with the night you’d met, easy to talk to, less….intense. And he didn’t make you feel like you were about to crawl out of your skin, so you ask if he wants to meet up for a drink.

It’s late, by the time you decide, and the moon is out, waxing toward fullness. There’s only a tiny sliver remaining, big in the sky, and you can’t stop looking up at it as you walk to the bar near your house.

You’d chosen it because it’s close and not because it’s where hot drummer Jeon Jungkook, also known as Baby, had pressed you against an alley wall and made you almost…

Jimin jolts you out of your thoughts, calling your name and waving as you approach the door. He’s leaned against the doorjamb, giving you a smirk and you think now you understand why they call him Sly.

It makes you smile and again, you vibe well with him, you get along in the best way, conversation is easy and you don’t feel gooseflesh or your hair stand up when he brushes his fingers against yours.

Jimin knows he’s playing with fire when he replies to your text, but they don’t call him Sly for nothing, and you’re interesting, for a human. He’s only met one other female wolf, a tall and feisty woman with a sharp tongue and the most beautiful brown eyes, but she’d had a mate and well...things hadn’t ended well. 

Jungkook thinks of his wolf as this separate entity but Jimin disagrees, let’s his wolf do what it wants, so that all the bad things he feels have some kind of outlet. This was especially so after he’d lost his brown eyed wolf girl, so he invites you back to the house, knowing that Jungkook will be at the gym all night before the full moon tomorrow.

In fact, all of the others will be out, finding fun of their own, and why shouldn’t Jimin do the same? It isn’t as if Jungkook has marked you, or even can, since you’re human. 

Your eyes aren’t quite the same shade of hers, but he can pretend.

Jungkook works out until his muscles ache but nothing can shake this feeling he has, like something’s wrong. When he leaves the gym even the moon looks off, as if it’s dimmer than it should be, and something’s pulling him home, like this tug in his gut. It feels like it used to as a kid in his first foster home, when he’d get so anxious he’d climb onto the roof and stare up at it.

He’s almost running as he gets closer, feeling his skin prickle as he gets to the house, his wolf so close to the surface he can feel the fur that isn’t there yet standing up on the back of his neck.

He smells Jimin first, wrinkling his nose at the alpha pheromones, and when he walks upstairs it isn’t as if he decides to let the wolf take over, or struggles with it - it’s instant.

You’re standing in the hall, head tilted up, and Jimin is leaning against the wall, smiling down at you, and when you lean up to just softly brush your lips against Jimin’s, Jungkook’s heart nearly leaps out of his chest, and the wolf barks, loud and warning.

You turn, surprised, and Jungkook doesn’t think, doesn’t act, it’s all wolf. He grabs you by your waist, hefts you up over your shoulder, and begins to walk you to his room.

Jimin protests and Jungkook growls over his shoulder, daring him to try something. Later, Jungkook is glad his friend didn’t follow, because he isn’t sure that he could have held the wolf back.

You kick and yell and beat on his back and Jungkook doesn’t realize what he’s done until he’s plopped you down on his bed, crawling toward you.

You kick him in the chest and it barely registers. You stand up and that’s when he snaps back to himself, at least to a degree.

"Don't leave. You can't leave." It's panicked, his voice, higher pitched almost like a whine.

"I can do whatever I want," you snap.

He makes this sound between a whine and a snarl and it's startling, strange, and you stop at the door.

"I know that! I know, but he doesn't!" 

"He..." you turn to look at him and he's trembling, head down, and you step closer, worried. "Baby, what do you mean?"

Jungkook just stands there, still trembling, until you reach out to touch his hair, gently. "He thinks he owns you, that you're his, that no one else can touch you." He explains, almost in a whisper.

"Who is he?" You ask slowly.

He raises his head slow and you gasp when you look into his eyes, instead of a warm brown this burnt amber, red hued.

"The wolf."

You stand there, blinking in surprise, for a long moment before actively telling your feet to move to the door. Unfortunately, your brain seems to have some kind of disconnect to your limbs, because you just step even closer, lean in and inhale along his neck, this scent of sweat and the iron of the weights he’d been lifting washing over you.

Rationally, you know that you should be shocked, horrified, even, that werewolves are real and you’re apparently standing in a house full of them but all you can do is run your tongue along the vein in his throat and Jungkook is trembling all over, whimpering like a puppy.

“Y/n, please, don’t-” he chokes out.

“Why not?” You murmur against his skin, the scent of him making your body react like you’ve never felt before. There’s this ache between your thighs that you’ve only felt a hint of before and you want more, nipping at his skin, unable to think clearly.

“He wants to...wants you,” Jungkook stutters, balling his hands into fists to keep from touching you.

“He does? Or you do?” You ask, lifting your head to pout at him, and Jungkook groans.

“Both,” he whispers hoarsely. 

“Then take me,” you say, and you don’t even know where the words came from. Your head feels light on your shoulders, dizzy with the scent of him, how his skin tastes under your tongue, and you do what he did to you the last night you’d seen him, nipping at his lower lip. Your canine pierces the skin and you taste iron on your tongue

Jungkook growls and lifts you again, this time with his hands under your ass and thighs and your legs wrap around him instantly. He all but throws you down on the bed, this time, and you whimper when he grips one of your thighs with his big hand, squeezing the flesh there.

“Mine,” he snarls, that high pitched whine at the end, and it makes you arch your back, claw your nails across his shoulders.

Jungkook leans down to sniff at your neck and growls again, wrinkling his nose and when you open your eyes he’s staring down at you with those red/amber eyes. 

You look back defiantly but you’re rolling your hips against his, you can feel him hard against your core and even though you’d never gone all the way with anyone before you want him inside you, can’t think of anything else.

“You smell like him,” he accuses, voice hoarse, and his wide eyes fade back to brown, just slightly, the color dilating around his pupils.

“Jungkook,” you whisper, feeling something like guilt, even though nothing had happened, really, and even it if it had…

He rubs his nose against your throat, covers you with his body like he’s replacing any of Jimin’s scent with his own. He licks against your neck, bites down on your skin, making you yelp.

“I’m sorry,” Jungkook whines. “I’m sorry, I have to. You’re mine, I have to mark you, have to scent you anywhere he touched you,” he tries to explain, his hands skating down your ample curves.

“It’s okay,” you say, and somehow you mean it, you understand, the very thought of Jungkook smelling like anyone else makes your heart jump into your throat, something primal rise in your gut. “I know, baby.”

“You’re mine?” He says again, voice pitching up into a question just like when he’d introduced himself and it scares you, the way it makes your heart ache.

Instead of speaking you kiss him again, hard, moving your hands to his hair to get him closer. You had worn a skirt and halter out, it’s so warm even though it’s close to winter, your skin feeling so hot under the moonlight that you couldn’t wear much else.

Even as you kiss him he’s tearing at your clothes and you lean up to help him until you’re bare beneath him and panting, this whining noise coming from your throat that you can’t explain.

“God,” Jungkook groans, rubbing a hand over his face. “I don’t know what I’m doing, I-”

“You haven’t...haven’t done this before?” Your eyes widen.

Jungkook realizes what you mean and he blushes a bit. “I’ve...yeah, I’ve done this before but not...not like this. I feel like...the wolf feels like...he’s been crazy. Since the first moment I saw you.”

“Like you’re gonna jump out of your skin? Always feeling...hot?” You ask.

Jungkook nods slowly, eyes widening.

“Me too,” you admit. “I don’t...I don’t know what it means. That’s why I came out with Jimin, I-”

Jungkook cuts you off with a choked whine. “It means you’re supposed to be mine.”

He snuffles against your neck again, hands at your hips, still holding back, trembling. “It means he never should have touched you.”

“I’m sorry,” you say, even though you know you have nothing to apologize for. “I want you. I’ve never...I’ve never done this before but I want you so bad,” you admit, clutching at his tshirt, pulling it up until he gets on his knees and pulls it off, tossing it to the side. You spread your hands across his chest and he lets out a wrecked moan.

“You’re holding back,” you accuse.

He nods. “The wolf, he doesn’t….I don’t want to hurt you. Especially...fuck, no one’s touched you like this before?” His hands slide up and down your thighs as he stares down at your body, your breasts, the cleft of your cunt.

Jungkook knows that shouldn’t make him so hard, shouldn’t make his dick pulse in his sweats, shouldn’t make the wolf keen with pride. Mine mine mine, the first, the only is all his brain is chanting, he feels dizzy like he’s drank too much even though he hasn’t had a drop.

“Please, please, please,” you beg, but he can’t, can’t let the wolf out, he’s afraid he’ll rip you apart. You’re human and a virgin and he can’t risk hurting you.

The wolf won’t even let him say it, so he just shakes his head. 

You huff out a breath, your body aching all over, need making your arousal coat your thighs. You don’t know what you’re going to say until you say it.

“Should I ask Jimin to do it? I bet he can smell me,” you taunt, shocking yourself.

Jungkook freezes, his eyes bleeding to red again and one hand jolting out to wrap around your throat.

“Don’t,” he warns.

You know you should be cautious since you’re about to fuck an actual werewolf, but fuck, you’re so hot, you can’t think, you need something inside you and you drop your feet to the bed, spreading your legs wide.

“Jimin would mark me. He’d fuck me, fill me full like I want.” 

Jungkook feels something in him snap, and his heart hurts and his cock aches and the wolf is keening, clawing inside him and he can’t control it anymore, just like before.

“Never,” he growls, squeezes his fingers around your throat and you gasp, your stomach aching with need.

Finally, finally he slides his fingers along your pussy and you choke out a sob as his thumb slips across your clit but it’s not enough.

“Jungkook,” you whimper. “Make me yours.”

“Already mine,” he murmurs, and finally slides two fingers inside you, making you cry out. “You’re already mine but I’m gonna give you what you want, mark you, fuck you, make sure Park fucking Jimin never so much as sniffs at you again.”

“Yes,” you sigh. “Yes, please, please.”

Jungkook still worries somewhere in the back of his mind that he’ll hurt you, that the wolf will, and by now he understands they’re one and the same but you’re rolling your hips up and his cock feels heavy and full like he’s about to burst, somehow wider at the base and he rips down his sweats, fucking you with three fingers now. 

When his cock bounces against his stomach you gasp, and if you’d been in your right mind you might worry he’s too big but something inside you is crying out in pleasure just at the sight of it. You spread your legs wider and he releases your throat, leaning over to kiss you instead, biting your lip as he slowly works himself inside you.

It’s a tight fit even after three fingers and you’re whining into his mouth, wanting more.

Jungkook isn’t a virgin, far from it although a little less experienced than some of his band members (Hoseok had once bragged about fucking a house of sorority sisters during a rut), but the way you clench around him has his hips twitching, wanting to buck into you even if it would split you open. 

Despite his worry, neither he or the wolf wants to hurt you, though, so he waits for you to adjust even as you beg, waits until you can take all of him.

He’s barely realized that he’s popped his knot until he looks down to see where you’ve joined and he groans. He knows how to do this, has been talked to (endlessly, by Taehyung, about his human girlfriend and how she desperately wants to take his knot and they’re working on it but it will take time and training), knows that you can’t take his knot but the wolf is howling for it, wants to fuck you hard and then pop it inside you, spill a littler into your womb.

You whine and pulse around him, reaching up to tug at his hair. “Kookie,” you pout. “Baby. Want you inside me, fuck me harder, please-”

“I can’t-” he chokes out, but then you wrap your legs around his waist and pull him deeper and the wolf growls, leans down, mine mine mine chanting in his head. My mate.

You felt a tiny pop when Jungkook first entered you, nothing painful and then just need, you want more and more and you don’t even know how to say it. You look up at him, near tears, needing something that you feel he won’t give you.

“I’m not yours yet,” you slur, and he looks pained, his eyes dilating from warm brown to amber red again and again.

He rocks his hips against you slow, and you’ve orgasmed twice already, once from his fingers and one from his cock but it’s not enough and you whine, it comes out almost inhuman, like his.

“Fill me up,” you urge, and Jungkook tries to hold the wolf back, he really does, but he’s too far gone, this close to the full moon and in the start of his first rut. 

Jungkook groans, fucks you harder and faster and when you cry out his name his balls draw up and he thrusts forward harder than he’d meant to, popping his knot inside you.

You make a surprised sound and his eyes pop open, his hands cupping your face even as his hips twitch as he cums, spills inside you.

“Y/n. I’m so sorry,” he mourns. “I’m sorry, I love you, I’m sorry,” he babbles, kissing along your neck and throat, seeing that he’d already marked you twice, once on each side of your throat, and he barely remembers it.

You let out a happy sigh and wrap your arms around his neck, feeling finally sated, at least for the moment. “What are you sorry for, silly baby?”

“Doesn’t it hurt?” He asks, and you look up into his eyes and they’re heterochromatic, now, red hued amber and brown both.

“You’d never hurt me,” you mumble against his throat.

“Never,” he promises. “Never, I love you so much.” 

You’re half asleep, sated with him still inside you, planting soft kisses on your lips and face. You don’t know where you’d learned the word, but it feels right when you say it, right before you drift to sleep.

“I love you too, Alpha.”

It takes a while to understand, especially between Jungkook being barely able to leave his room since he’s in rut and you’re in heat, but eventually, you figure it out.

Your great grandmother had been an omega werewolf, and it’s a recessive gene so you’d been the lucky one to receive it. Since you had never shifted because your gene wasn’t activated by male wolves, you had no smell.

At least, not until the full moon, when you shifted into what Jungkook says is the prettiest wolf he’d ever seen.

After, when you’d near your heat, Jungkook would snap and snarl at the boys so much just for talking to you that it made you roll your eyes, but eventually you got the dates right (for the most part, there’d been one instance in which Jimin had made a snarky comment and Jungkook had lunged at him and they’d gone rolling down the stairs), and you holed up in your apartment, instead.

Jungkook was working with Seokjin to understand that the wolf is him instead of some seperate entity. You tell him you’ve always known that. From what you know now, if the wolf wasn’t, he would have taken you the very first night. True mates are rare, and you’d both known it the whole time, even when you hadn’t.

You and Jia went to every concert, her always telling you her neverending sexcapades with Hoseok to be able to take his knot, front row, waiting for your Alpha’s set. It’s cute, you think, that they call him Baby on stage but he’s your Alpha, especially since he’s both, always, to you.

[softboywriting]

Meet The Parents | Billy Russo

Summary: You introduce Billy to your parents and it doesn’t go as well as you hope. [Billy Russo x F!Reader] [Assistant!Reader Trope] [Alternate Timeline - Castle family not mentioned/never happened] [Fluff] [Problematic Parents/Divorced] [Parents Fighting] [Language] [Flirting] [Flashback/Nightmare]

 Word Count: 3.8k 

 A/N: This is a follow up to my first fic Little Moments but can be read separately as a stand alone story. I may be doing several in a series with these two.

---

The office is quiet, and has been for the whole day. Billy has been out at a client meeting since you got in. Anvil is becoming quite popular in the private military market, having taken on three new contracts in the last two weeks. You're proud of Billy, he works hard to win over his clients and offer top of the line service. As the primary contact for all contracts and placements, you've gotten busy too. More business means more expenses, and more employees to keep track of. You don't mind, it keeps you active and engaged. There is nothing more you hate than just sitting around staring at the wall or watching cat videos for the billionth time.

"Hey sweetheart."

You glance up from your work and see Billy closing the office door behind him. He's dressed up, black and grey patterned silk shirt, expensive black suit, the tailored jacket over his arm. He looks positively delicious if you do say so. Those shirts are the best thing you ever convinced him to wear.

"Hey yourself. How'd the meeting go?"

"Shitty." He sneers and tosses his jacket on his office chair. He begins unbuttoning the sleeves of his shirt to roll them up to his elbows. "The guy brought his daughter."

"Okay? What does she have to do with anything?"

Billy raises his eyebrows in an 'are you shitting me' expression. "His daughter is a model. Not naturally talented mind you, paid for by her daddy. Clearly he thought havin' her there would sway me into acceptin' the number he offered for the contract you wrote up. Like he's doing me a favor."

You stand and walk around the desk, eyes going up and down his chest. "You didn't do anything did you?"

"What kinda man do you think I am?" Billy walks you back against your desk, pinning you in with his hands on the top behind you. He drops his head to yours and stares at you with those dark endless eyes. "You think I'd fuck around?"

"I know you won't, you're too gone for me." You run your hands up his back and he arches against you. "Did she try?"

"She tried. Even sat on my lap."

"In front of her dad?"

"Mmmhmm." Billy drops his face to your neck and mouths at your skin. "I don't mind a little show and tell but even I got boundaries. Parental peepshows are off limits."

You laugh softly and he brings one hand against your lower back up to pull you against him. "Take it easy. You know the rules. No relationship stuff while I'm on the clock."

He groans, pulling his head back to look at you. "I need to touch you though. I don't want her lingering on me."

"I know." You step out of his hold and he lets his hand drag across your back as you escape his grasp. "Just another hour okay? I've gotta wrap a few things up."

Billy pulls his tie loose and unbuttons the top of his shirt. "Why did I ever make these rules?" He sinks down in his chair and spreads his legs, lolling his head against the back. He really is such a tempting little tease. How could you resist a man like that? Truth be told it's hard.

You take a seat behind your desk and focus your eyes on the invoices on screen. "You made them because you want Anvil to remain professional and not a playground."

"Bullshit."

"Your bullshit."

Billy bites his lip and gives you that look. The one that says he isn't to be messed with, that he's gonna get what he wants no matter what. And oh it's so tempting to get up and go sit on his lap in that chair. It's always been a fantasy of yours. One you haven't gotten to full fill due to his rules. He's really only cockblocking himself.

"C'mere."

"No, Billy."

"C'mon, be bad. Break my rules."

"No! You're such a jerk!" You laugh and he chuckles playfully. "We have dinner with my parents after this anyway. I'm not breaking your rules and getting all messy before we go see my parents. You hear? Parents."

"Always such a good girl."

"You like it."

"Damn right I do." He pushes up out of his chair and crosses the office to cradle your head and press a chaste kiss to your temple. "I'm gonna go home and get ready. Anything you want me to lay out for you? I think you've got a few things at the apartment."  

"The blue dress. I picked it up from the cleaners last week with a few suits. It should be in your closet."

"The one I bought you a while back for the client dinner?"

"Yeah."

"Isn't that a little revealing for a parents dinner?"

You raise your eyebrows and he narrows his eyes.

"You're a monster." He presses his lips to your ear. "If you keep teasing me I'll have to put you in your place."

"I guess I'm a glutton for punishment."

"Oh sweetheart, you have no idea what you're askin' for." Billy kisses your cheek and steps away. "Playin' with fire will get you burned."

You smile innocently. "See you later."

"You're terrible." He goes to the door and stops, looking back once more. "But I love you."

"Love you too Billy."

"Ugh," he groans, slapping a hand over his chest. "Say it again."

"Love you?" You giggle and he acts even more dramatic, pretending to swoon against the door. "What are you doing?"

"Being you."

"Wh- you son of a bitch! Get out!" You throw your squishy stress ball at him and he cackles as he runs from the office. What a child.

_____________________

"Oh, this is your boyfriend?" Your mother asks in actual surprise. As if you weren't meant to have a man that looks like Billy Russo. Truth be told you had never dated anyone half as attractive, not to you anyways. "He's so...well dressed."

Billy takes your mom's hand and kisses it politely. "We're all well dressed here ma'am. You look lovely too."

"Thank you." She flushes and giggles.

Billy gives a warm smile and tugs you closer. His hand on your back is radiating heat, its comforting. He knows you're tense. This dinner will be a strain on your nerves and he had been warned how difficult your parents can be.

"Your father should be here soon. I told him not to be late." Mom says huffily, eyeing the doors to the restaurant. You've met up with her outside and you're currently waiting for your dad to arrive. Your parents have been split for ten years and it's been hard, but not as hard as it would have been if they had divorced when you were still a young child. Well, you like to think that anyways. They waited, held on to their shit until you were graduated and old enough to understand that some people don't remain in love.

Billy leans in and presses his lips to your ear. "Are your parents going to fight? This place is very nice, I don't want to cause a scene."

"It'll be fine. They can hold it together for a few hours. I hope. Just don't mention their personal lives. It's a sore spot for mom. Dad isn't single anymore."

"Gotcha."

"Sorry I'm late." You turn and see your dad walking towards you. "Some asshole parked his Rolls Royce just on the line and I hardly squeezed into the only spot open beside it."

Mom scoffs and rolls her eyes. She bites her tongue but you know what she would say. Some comments about his truck being too damn big and a gas guzzler.

Dad puts his hand out for Billy. "You must be the lucky guy!"

Billy takes it and smiles a beautiful, toothy, shit eating grin. "Billy Russo, the asshole who parked his Rolls Royce a bit close to the line."

The way Dad's face turns pale and then red with embarrassment makes the whole evening worthwhile up until then. "That's yours?"

"One hundred percent. Bought and paid for."

"That's a beautiful piece of machinery. Expensive."

Billy leans his head on yours. "I only go for the best."

"Well you know I-"

"Oh shut up already, let's go inside." Mom says and grabs your dad's arm. "Always babbling on about shit when we've got things to do."

"Y'know what-" the conversation fades as your parents head into the restaurant. You're glad. It is bound to be petty anyways. Always was with them. Bickering children they should be called.

"Relax." Billy says in your ear, hand traveling up and down your side. "I can win over your parents for one night."

"You could charm anyone into anything and I've seen as much. You're a silver tongued sn-"

Billy catches your jaw in a light hold and presses a kiss to your lips. Your hand slides up into his hair and he grins into the kiss. "Easy now. We've not even gotten seated yet."

"Your fault."

"Usually is."

____________________

You stare at yourself in the reflection of the bathroom mirror. Dinner wasn't going so great and you had barely made it through an appetizer and drinks.

Your parents couldn't stop arguing, Billy was trying his best to charm them but apparently they're uncharmable, and you were left to play referee for your parents against each other or them against you and Billy.

It is a whole mess and you want to just leave, just walk out say fuck everything and go to Billy's apartment and go to bed. You haven't even had a chance to tease Billy like you were planning, hell, you've barely gotten a word in that wasn't defending him or fielding your parents insults they continuously hurdled over the table at one another.

The door rattles on your left and you clear your throat. "Occupied!" You shout and it stops.

It's a single use bathroom, not a multi-stall type set up. So the person outside would just have to wait until you were done having your crisis. Maybe not so fair to them but you'll be damned if you won't let yourself have a moment.

The handle turns and you back into the sink as the door opens. To your surprise it is Billy, not some worker with a key. "What the-"

"Your parents are insufferable. How the hell did you grow up with them? I mean I was in a group home and a few of the adults weren't great but holy shit they weren't my parents."

"I'm sorry."

Billy closes the door and shakes his head, taking your hands in his. "Don't be sorry for their actions. Never apologize for anyone but yourself."

"I knew this would happen. I just thought that maybe...I don't know...maybe they'd be different. Maybe they'd be proud of me, of you, so they would get along for two fucking hours."

"Sweetheart, you're nearly thirty, you're still seeking your parents approval?"

You laugh joylessly and bite the inside of your cheek. "You don't understand. You can't understand."

Billy brings your forehead to his lips and he rubs your back. He's always so affectionate with you, careful to hold and to love you like a man who never received it himself so he wants to make sure those he loves receives it tenfold.

"I understand seeking approval, but there is nothing you need approval for. You're an adult with a good job, a place to stay, an outstanding boyfriend with his own company. I'd say you're doin' alright honey."

You let out an actual little laugh, and he does too, bumping his nose against yours. "You're so full of yourself."

"You like that?" He bumps again, eyes on yours. "I said it to get you to giggle."

"You know it's a little true."

His lips meet yours in a warm tender kiss. "Confidence is sexy."

"It is."

"I could tell your parents there's a work emergency." He slides his hands over your ass and pulls you flush against him. "A real pain in the ass employee is causin' trouble."

You smile into his lips and he smiles back. "Oh yeah?"

"Mmhmm."

He chuckles softly and cradles your head to his chest. "You can't choose how your family acts. Remember that. It's up to you to decide how you act, and if you want to deal with them."

"I know."

"Do you?" He runs a hand over your hair, tangling his fingers in the strands briefly.. "I know it's different for you, I can distance myself easier since I didn't grow up with proper parents. Maybe I'm cold, or indifferent but-"

"Stop." You dig your fingers into his side and he falls quiet. "Don't compare your childhood to mine. It's not fair. I don't want you to begin resenting me because-"

Billy gives you a look that is all warning and it silences you instantly. "I would never resent you for having parents and growing up like a normal kid should. I ended up in a shit situation and that is no one's fault but my own mother's. She is the only person I will ever resent." He softens, leaning in and kissing your nose. "Do you wanna ditch or go try to make something of this dinner?"

You swallow harshly and look at the door. Ditching would be easy, but the repercussions would be insufferable. Your mom would never stop calling about it, your dad would hold it over your head forever. It would be more of a disaster to leave than it would be to stay. No matter how valid the reason.

"We'll stay. I can try and redirect the conversation."

"That's my girl." He pats your cheek. "Proud of you."

"T-thanks."

Billy takes your hand and interlocks your fingers with his. "I'll take care of it. I can get them to shut up."

"If you can get a word in."

"I have my ways. Don't worry."

You cut him a look as you exit the bathroom and head for the table. "What are you-"

"Don't worry." He presses against your ear and guides you down to sit at the table.

Your parents are still bickering.

"Hey!" Billy says firmly with his hands on the table, not a yell, but enough to get his point across and the attention of your parents but not many others.

"Yes?" Mom asks surprisingly quietly.

Billy smiles and it's all venom, beautiful venom. You know this look, these eyes, that deadly grin. He isn't fucking around and the way he can express that so physically subtly astounds you. "The arguing is going to stop. The petty comments are going to stop. We're going to sit here and have conversations like adults, or you can leave and your daughter and I will have a nice dinner."

"Wh-" Dad starts but doesn't get any further.

"I am not goin' to repeat myself." Billy stands up straight and raises his eyebrows, daring your parents to say another word. The tension is thick, you can hardly breathe. Never did you think you'd have to witness Billy being like this with your parents of all people.

You grab a roll from the basket at the center of the table and pick at it. "How's work been, Dad?"

Dad clears his throat. "Good, busy. People always need an electrician for something. I did a school the other day, new classroom."

Billy sits beside you and lays his hand on your leg, thumb stroking your skin gently. He leans in and whispers "I told you don't worry." He turns his attention back to your parents. "So you're an electrician? Contractor?"

"Yeah, I work for Mundun Electric. Union job, pays well."

"And you?" Billy looks to your mom.

"I'm a medical receptionist. Clarke Center Hospital."

Billy smiles. "That's incredible. You're both hardworking people it seems, I see where she gets her work ethic. She's incredible, the best I've hired for Anvil."

You chew your lip and look down, flushed. "You're just being nice."

"I'm serious." He holds your hand up and kisses your knuckles. "I admire your dedication and the hard work you've put into making Anvil a success. Without you, I don't know where I'd be. Probably buried in paperwork."

"So you work for Billy? That's how you met?" Mom asks and you nod.

Dad raises his eyebrows.

"Dad, don't start."

Billy cuts a glare at your dad. "Don't start what?"

"Nothing." Dad says nonchalantly, eyes going to somewhere else in the room. "I just think inter-workplace relationships are never a good idea."

You squeeze Billy's hand and he just smiles oh so sweetly. "Dad, it's fine. Billy and I are both professionals. If things don't work out we'll make it work for the sake of the company."

"He'll fire you and you'll be looking for a job yet again." Mom pipes up, rolling her eyes. "See, things like this are why you can't hold a career."

"Mom!"

"Alright." Billy says firmly. "We're done here. Ma'am, sir, with all due respect you can both go fuck yourselves."

"Excuse me!?" Dad bellows and your mom looks flustered at the use of language. "You have no right-!"

"Actually I do." Billy stands and guides you to stand with him. "I'm going to love and care about your daughter the way she should be. You two are self absorbed monsters who should have never had a child, let alone forced the one you had to live through a loveless marriage. The fact that you cannot manage to sit here and have dinner with her and myself, which mind you has left quite a first impression, is sad and disappointing."

You grab his hand and you're shaking. You don't even know what to say. It's like Billy is telling them everything you've wanted to for your whole life.

"C'mon sweetheart." He puts his arm around you and guides you out of the restaurant. You know there are people staring but it's fine. It's over now.

"I'm s-"

"Uh uh." Billy puts his finger to your lips. "No apologies. Here." He shrugs his suit jacket off and puts it around your shoulders.

"Thanks."

"You wanna get out of here before your parents come out. Go get some burgers or something?"

You can't help the little smile that tugs at the corner of your mouth. "Pete's Diner?"

"Anywhere you like." He takes your hand and walks you toward the parking area. "Fuck this fancy bullshit anyway. I never understood the food they serve."

"Me neither. A hamburger and fries with a big ole pickle is good enough for me."

Billy opens the passenger door for you. "You're a girl after my heart y'know that?"

"I think I already have it."

He leans in and kisses your forehead. "That's for damn sure."

_____________________

Midnight you wake up crying. A nightmare, a reoccurring one as it would be. Though it is more of a twisted memory than a nightmare in actuality.

You are always around seven or eight years old, it's nighttime, you've been in bed for an hour and still not asleep. Downstairs your parents are awake, their disembodied voices float through the old floors. Their voices grow louder, shouting, screaming at each other. A glass shatters and you crawl under the bed. Footsteps come closer in the hall, heavy and slow.

The dream shifts. You're not a child but an adult. Under the bed is smaller now, the footsteps grow louder. The door opens and you scream when your foot is grabbed and you wake up crying.

"What's wrong?" Billy asks, sitting up in bed abruptly and turning on the light, hand instinctively going for the nightstand where you know a weapon is stored.

You had stayed the night, both of you decided it was best to stay together while you decompress from your tragic meet the parents dinner. Didn't matter in the end though. The nightmare still came.

"Just a bad dream. I'm going to get some water." You push back the blankets and plant your feet on the cold floor. It's a nice shock to the system, reminding you this is reality.

Billy's arm snakes around your waist. "Care to share with the class?"

"It's nothing. Just a nonsense dream about old crap."

"Your parents?"

"Yeah. Um, just a dream." You yawn and pat his hand on top of your stomach. "I need water."

"Grab me a bottle?"

"Sure."

You end up in the kitchen, looking out at the New York skyline. His place is so beautiful. It's luxurious, and you can't get used to it. You lean on the island and sip a bottle of cold water from the fridge. You don't think you belong here.

Then the dream comes creeping back in. Rationally you know that dream is never going to become a reality. Not with Billy around.

"Hey."

You look back to see Billy walking in with his sleep pants low on his hips. He scrubs a hand over his face before meeting you at the island.

"Sorry, I just got caught up in the view."

"It s'okay." His arms wrap around you and he presses his face to your neck. "I love you." He whispers softly into your skin.

"Are you alright?"

"Mmm."

You thread a hand into his hair and scratch at his scalp. It elicits a hum that's nearly a purr against your back. "Do you ever feel like you don't deserve this? Like everyday you can't comprehend that you're loved."

"I didn't think I could fall in love before I met you, yeah. I'm familiar."

"Oh."

"Wasn't expecting that?" He chuckles, flexing his fingers against your tummy.

You shake your head and he kisses along your jaw. "Billy, stop," you giggle as his short beard tickles your skin.

"No way." He starts walking you back away from the island counter and toward the bedroom. "I've got a disease and if I don't kiss you all the time I'll definitely succumb to it."

The two of you tumble onto the bed and he straddles your hips, mouthing at your neck and chest relentlessly.

"It's three in the morning. We need to go back to sleep."

Billy hums and settles on top of you, nose in your hair. "Sleep is for the weak."

"Then I'm weak." You trail a hand up his back, fingers flitting over his shoulder blade. His skin is so soft, so warm. "Thank you by the way."

"For what?"

"Being here when I had a nightmare."

"Of course." Billy pets your hair, stroking it down against the pillow. "I've suffered my share of them alone. I'm glad you were here so you weren't."

"Me too."

"Go to sleep." He kisses your cheek and rolls off to the side. His arm curls around you and pulls you close. "Love you."

"Love you too."

_____________________

*****Note: none of my works should be posted anywhere outside of my linked accounts. I do not give permission to repost with or without credit to my accounts. Please notify me of any reposted works.*****

Header image by delicate-venus

Thank you so much for reading, please reblog to support content creators. -A

[tteokdoroki]

hello! if you’re still doing these could i please request 7 with Bakugou?

if you’re not taking them pls delete !! 💕

katsuki bakugou x gn!reader.

tteokdoroki teaparty event masterpost!!

♡ prompt #7  —  reader has a secret admirer, character of choice doesn’t know how to confess.

♡ genre: everyone, fluff + slight angst.

♡ word count: 1.8K

♡ warnings: cursiing!

♡ author’s notes: thank you for requestiing my lovely !!

yet again, warmth spreads underneath your skin and across your chest at the sight of the chocolates displayed cutely across your desk. for the last week or so, you’d received a flurry of gifts from an unknown admirer— each attached to a sweet note, written with such deep feelings that every time you read one your heart thumped loudly in your chest.  

“let me guess, another one?” mina swoons from your right, joining you in the empty classroom for the day ahead. pink hair tickles at the junction between your head and your shoulder as she reaches for the box of sweets in your grip— you don’t bother putting up a fight, knowing she’d take it from you anyway. “that’s like the third time this week, yn.”

bowing your head shyly, you run your fingers over the small note that lays unfolded on your desk. ‘for you, i’d do anything.’ it reads and you wonder for the umpteenth time; you out of all of classmates is capable of writing such a thing. “i know, i really wish i knew who’s sending them— no ones ever quite done something like this for me before.” you voice is quiet and hopeful, a contrast to the bustling energetic babbles that come from your third year classmates as they filter in for the day ahead. you scan them all to look for a possible source, knowing that your heart could belong to anyone of them.

“it’s gotta be deku!” kaminari cuts through your train of thought like a knife through butter— throwing his arm around your shoulders as he plucks the box of chocolates from mina’s grip, much to her annoyance. “he’s like the sweetest dude in the class, there’s no way it could be anyone else. we’re not capable of cute shit like that.” you roll your eyes and allow your friend to tear open the box for a morning treat but let your gaze slip over to where izuku chats animatedly with ochako. not him.

jirou is next to speak, ripping the box from the blonde to take it to her desk beside yours. kaminari whines as the girl divides up the sweet snacks for, taking one for both herself and mina. chaos is ensuing and yet again, your friends are the centre of it. “nah, my bet’s on sato...how else would yn be getting so many sweet treats every day?”

the group falls silent, mulling over the choice as you finally take a seat and swipe one of the chocolates for yourself. popping it into your mouth, you huff in frustration.

“doesn’t make sense, everything gifted to me so far has been insanely exclusive or expensive...some are even my favourites from abroad and— i don’t speak to sato enough for him to know them...“ you admit, pawing your cheeks with embarrassment.

“maybe it’s kirishima then! you guys are always together and he kinda seems like the romantic type..?” your pink haired friend suggests and the more you think about it, the more it makes sense. it was true, you were both always together— even if it was in the presence of others like bakugou and kaminari— and had more than enough in common, from music tastes to gaming. you could see the hardening hero as someone you’d go for as well, eijirou was an obvious choice. “what do you think, bakugou?”

you peek up from the note ( neatly folded ) and box of chocolates ( now returned ) that sit on your desk, catching the arrival of your final three friends. bakugou, sero and kirishima himself. you feel body flush with warmth as you catch the latter’s ruby eyed gaze and give him a small wave accompanied by a smile; that kirishima quickly returns.  

the blonde however, tsks at mina’s question before making his way to his seat. you considered yourself and katsuki to be good friends; it was usually quiet whenever you too were around one another which was a nice change of pace from his usual rowdy personality— but the majority of your time with each other was spent with him teasing you for your quirk.

“‘m callin’ bullshit. whoever this is should hurry up and face how they feel. the candy shit is stupid.” bakugou growls out, throwing his backpack onto the desk; ready to begin class. in all three years of knowing him, he’d never showed any signs of romantic interest towards anyone in your class, especially you. meaning that your admirer, definitely bakugou.

you turn away from him and your group of friends to face the board, ignoring how they scold him for his harsh words. “right, stupid...” you sigh quietly, just as aizawa enters the room.

ever since your brief conversation with the explosive boy himself, bakugou had been increasingly rude to you throughout the day and it was starting to get on your last nerves. at first, it had been subtle— bumping you in the corridors between classes, pretending he didn’t have an extra pen for you when you knew that he carried spares for your friends who often forgot and then he’d straight up ignored your invitation to study during lunch like you usually did.

you figured that the blonde was having a bad day, bakugou was never usually this harsh to you and you could talk it out with him later. this behaviour was something you hadn’t seen from your friend since first year, and you almost believed that something else had been bothering him— until he almost blew you high into the sky during hero training that afternoon. of course you called him out on it, yelling at him in front of the entire class as your frustrations finally bubbled over but bakugou remained straight faced— leading to your current predicament.

aizawa thought it was best for the two of you to work things out over cleaning duties after school— something you thought you’d been well past seeing as you were third years now. mature, grown up third years who knew how to talk about their problems. apparently, katsuki bakugou was not one of them. even while you rearranged chairs and swept under desks, he still managed to crawl under your skin with petty remarks and hums of disapproval.

it’s only when you realised that katsuki had been actively trying to avoid your gaze or rather, your entire presence— that you snapped, dropping the broom you held in your hands and letting it clatter to the floor beside him, ultimately grabbing his attention.

“are you fucking insane—?”

“what the hell is your problem, bakugou?” you slice right through his words, a quiet rage flooding your bloodstream as you glare down at him. the boy himself looks dumbfounded, having never heard you talk to him in such away, before and stops shelving the books he had been holding. “did i do something to you?”

“like I’d let you do anythin’ to piss me off.”

god, he infuriates you. you step closer to the blonde, who stands at least half a head taller than you and shove at his chest as best you can— needing an outlet for your frustrations. “then why have you been acting like an asshole all day? first you blow me off and then you quite literally blow me up, and now? you’re avoiding me?” your fists curl in his untucked shirt, tugging at it as all of your emotions spill out into the space between you. “i don’t know what i did, but it doesn’t mean you get to treat your friend like shit, katsuki. you’ve been so mean to me today!”

bakugou looks away, avoiding your eyes that cloud with a sadness he can’t bare to face. you tell yourself not to cry, hating the way your bottom lip wobbles at his change in attitude. “’m mean to everyone, there’s nothin’ special about you.” he excuses himself, trying to step away from you.

“but not to me, you know that,” your voice shakes, everything you’d held back finally slipping through opened cracks. why was he treating you this way? what had you done to deserve this? you glance up, trying to find his vermillion eyes and the answers that may lie behind them. “you’ve been acting so...so off, since this morning, when mina asked about my admirer. you called it stupid. is it so hard to believe that someone, that kirishima might even like me?” the grip you had on bakugou’s shirt loosens but you remain leaning against him, neither of you daring to breathe. “why should i even care what you think? you’ve never been one for romance...u-unless you count the manga that you read but i don’t know how that would...”

and then your babbling stops, realisation washing over you in heavy waves. bakugou appears visibly tense before you, fist clenching and unclenching by his aides as you process your own train of thought. he hadn’t been mean to you for the sake of it, he had been because he didn’t know how else to express his feelings of jealously. it wasn’t kirishima that had been sending you notes, no— it had been bakugou all along. “how that would relate to me...” you think out loud, feeling him flinch beneath your grip. “k-katsuki...do you have a crush on me?”

“...don’t...” the blonde warns, heat rushing to his cheeks at your very accusation. a smile comes rushing to your cheeks, the familiar warmth finding its way back into your chest. “don’t look at me like that, fucker. i-i’m not good at this emotion shit, you know that and this was easier than talking— yn, stop fucking lookin’ at me like that.”

the almost whine that slips from between katsuki’s lips makes your tummy fill with affectionate butterflies, causing you to finally let go of his poor shirt and throw your arms around him in a tight hug. bakugou hesitates for a moment, trying to decode the situation and decide for himself if this was real— but you decide to do the talking and tell him foot yourself. “can’t help it, not when i feel the same way about you, katsuki.” you knew that no matter who was behind your little gifts and love notes, your heart would belong to your admirer and your admirer alone. with a rush of adrenaline after feeling katsuki return your embrace, you lean up to press a soft lingering kiss to his chapped lips.

he tastes like honey and smoke, feels warm like a soft summer breeze but as your lips love together and speak a thousand unspoken confessions, the pair of you realise that you never want the moment to end. “i meant what i said in that last note,” bakugou hums softly, pressing his forehead to yours and holding you close as if you’re going to disappear or suddenly realise your feelings for him aren’t true. “i’d do anything for you...”

“anything?” for the second time that day, you swoon at the blonde’s words and peck his nose gently.

he nods once, lost in thought before speaking again. “except for buy you those fucking chocolates again. they’re fucking expensive, cost a shitload.”

you snort at that, leaning up to lock lips him again— who needed chocolate when you could kiss katsuki bakugou instead.

[notanotherockstar]

 ‘The Whole World Is a Stage’

(Headcannons of dating Neil Perry)

Warnings: slight smut ig, dps spoilers, Knox Overstreet’s endless pursuit of Chris Noel, Neil being absolutely adorable.

You met Neil when he came to audition for the part of ‘Puck’ in a Midsummer Nights Dream.

You had joined the production to help with the sets, props, costumes, etc. and were just about to leave when you see him recite his lines for the audition.

To say that you were instantly enamoured would be putting it lightly.

You introduce yourself to Neil just as he’s about to leave and compliment him on his acting skills.

And the boy is a stuttering fool when you do so because, going to an all boys school and having incredibly strict parents, he’s not used to interacting with girls let alone having very pretty girls come up to him and tell him that his acting is good.

He thanks you but tells you that he isn’t sure if he’ll get the part since it’s his first time acting professionally— unless the silly little plays he used to put up for his parents in his living room when he was a child count.

You laugh at first, thinking he’s joking.

But then you notice the ‘shit did I say something wrong’ expression on his face and you understand that he is not only very serious but also very nervous.

So, you assure him, telling him that, “I was there for all the auditions and yours was by far the best. They would have to be idiots to not cast you.”

Neil is blushing like crazy at the compliment.

He’s blushing even harder when you ask him if he wants to grab a cup of coffee or something from the diner nearby.

He wants to say yes but then remembers that he needs to be back at Welton before dinner so that no one realises that he’s been gone.

“It’s alright,” you tell him, “I have a feeling we’re going to be seeing a lot of each other— I’m working on the set and all of that stuff.”

This marks the beginning of a short yet lovely relationship.

You’re the first one he comes to when he finds out he’s got the part of Puck.

That’s when you two go out on your first date.

It’s nothing much just the two of you and a little picnic by the river with food you stole from your kitchen.

You two stay there still twilight when Neil realises that he needs to head back to school.

Neil helps you clean up because he’s a gentleman.

Just before he can leave you pull him into a kiss that leaves Neil weak in his knees and his cheeks brining red.

“See you tomorrow then?” You ask.

“Y-yeah, yeah.” He stutters and nodds making you giggle.

When he reaches Welton he’s completely lovesick.

The rest of the dead poets boys groan because having to deal with a lovesick Knox was bad enough but now they had to deal with a lovesick Neil too.

He tells them all about you.

He talks about you so much it’s kinda annoying.

Todd has to cover his ears with his pillow in the night for two reasons:

To block out Neil’s chatter about you before they can go to sleep, and;

To block out Neil’s moaning in the middle of the night that wakes him up no matter how deep his sleep is.

Needless to say that after all the talk the boys are very eager to meet you.

But Neil doesn’t want to introduce you to the boys, mostly because he’s afraid you’ll end up preferring Charlie or Knox over him.

So he refuses to bring you along to any of the Dead Poets Society meetings, no matter how much they insist.

Sick and tired of all the secrecy one day the boys decide sneak out to Henly Hall while Neil was at rehearsals.

They ask around backstage till they’re directed to you where you were painting a backdrop.

They introduce themselves as Neil’s friends and you surprise them by very accurately guessing who’s who since Neil had told you a lot about them too.

You and the boys hit it off right away.

Joking around with Charlie, Meeks and Pitts.

Discussing literature and art with Todd.

Discussing your friend, Chris with Knox which ends up with the you agreeing to become his wingman and talk him up to Chris since you’re not a fan of her current boyfriend.

Cameron isn’t there because he’s afraid he’ll get into trouble if the teachers find out they snuck out— not that anyone minds.

When Neil visits you after rehearsal he feel like he’s going to faint at the sight of you, Charlie, Todd, Knox, Pitts and Meeks covered in paint and laughing your asses off.

You immediately run over to Neil and kiss him, trying your hardest not to get paint all over his clothes before scolding him to not introducing you to his friends earlier.

There’s a very awkward chuckle from Neil which is followed by, “I was just waiting for the right moment.”

Charlie is stopped from making a sex joke by Knox placing his hand over the boys mouth.

That is followed by the boys informing Neil that you’ll be attending the next Dead Poets Society meeting.

Neil is speechless— on one hand he’s happy that you’re getting along so well with his closest friends, but on the other hand he wishes he had more time with you to himself before you could meet them.

Anyways, a few nights later, Neil shows up at your house around midnight and takes you to the cave where the Poets meet.

You’re excited to see them all, of course, especially Todd because he’s adorable and just needs to be hugged.

Neil starts the meeting by reciting Thoreau. 

True to mr. Keating’s words you do very much swoon as you watch him recite the verse. 

Joking around with the Dead Poets as you all take turns to recite poetry from the book Keating gave Neil. 

Flirting endlessly with Charlie throughout the night.

Cue jealous Neil.

And you don’t even notice.

You’re too busy giggling as Charlie as he plays endless melodies on his saxophone. 

Now, I kinda imagine Neil as getting all upset when he gets jealous

Because, let’s be honest, with parents like his own there is absolutely no way he doesn’t have self esteem issues. 

So, anyways, you’re babbling on about how great the night was when you notice Neil kinda looking at the floor like a puppy who has been kicked. 

You ask him whats wrong but he shrugs it off, requesting you to go on about your time with the rest of the Dead Poets.

You don’t back off however, insisting that Neil tells you what’s bothering you.

So, he spills the beans.

He’s surprised to find you laughing once he’s done. 

“Neil, Charlie’s fun but we’re only friends,” you tell him when he asks you why you’re laughing. “I love you. And only you. Besides, I’m pretty sure I cannot be around Charlie for more than an hour without throwing up- he wears way too much cologne for his own good.” 

Soon Neil’s laughing too.

The two of you are just laughing and giggling and messing around with each other till you reach your house. 

You two stare at each other for a few seconds- neither of you actually wanting this night to end.

So you invite Neil inside. 

“Aren’t your parents asleep?” Neil asks, completely oblivious to your ulterior motives. 

“Yup.” 

It takes Neil a few seconds but once he does you’re dragging him inside for, in the words of one brilliant miss Amy Santiago, “a cray-cray night of funky fun.”

Neil’s gone when you wake up the next morning leaving behind nothing except the smell of his cologne and a note telling you that he loves you too and that he’ll see you in the evening for rehearsal. 

It’s pure bliss from there on.

Sneaking kisses before he has to go on stage.

Picnic dates.

Movie and museum dates.

Library dates.

Sex every free moment you two got.

And by the time the day of the performance came around everyone knew about Neil and you.

Most of them *cough cough* your parents *cough cough* thought you were adorable.

The others *cough cough* the director, the cast and crew of the play *cough cough* just wished the two of you would stop making out and being all lovey dovey everywhere.

You give Neil a good luck kiss on the lips before he could go out on stage and promise that you will watch from the wings.

And you do. You watch and you cheer louder than the Dead Poets in the audience.

You leap into Neil’s arms once the play is finished, kissing him all over his face while he giggles.

“You were so good,” you tell him. “You were so, so good!”

“I was, wasn’t I?” Neil asked with a wide grin spread across his face. “I was really, really good!”

You’re about to say something when a teacher comes up to Neil and tells him that his father is looking for him.

“Everything okay?” You ask him as you watch his expression fall at the mention of his father.

“Yeah,” he nods and places his hand on yours before pushing it off his cheek. Neil bent forward and placed one last, soft kiss against your lips. “I’ll be right back.”

“Sure,” you tell him and watch him walk away.

You stand completely still for a few minutes before deciding to follow Neil.

You walk out of the theatre just in time to see Neil being forced into a car by a man you presumed to be his father and the car then drive away into the darkness.

You ask Charlie what just happened with Neil but he seems to be more or less as clueless as you are.

So, you end up going back home, the worst thoughts about what could have happened to Neil popping into your head when you try to go to sleep.

Then the next day, just when you’re about to leave for school your mother tells you that there’s a call for you.

You immediately rush over hoping it’s Neil.

Thankfully, it is.

He tells you that he his father pulled him out of Welton and enrolled him into military school.

You’re crying, of course, weeping happy tears because you’re just so happy that’s he’s well and alright.

“You nearly gave me a heart attack you know that?” You tell him amidst tears as you run your hand through your (y/h/c) locks.

“(Y/N) I—“ Neil’s cut off by the sound of his father yelling in the background. “I’ll call you back later.”

“You better,” you sniffle and wipe your tears against the sleeve of your shirt. “Neil?”

“(Y/N)?”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

[robininthelabyrinth]

lwj never really forgives his family's involvement in the siege, how does this manifest during the thirteen years?

If it had only been the pain in his back, the agony of punishment and icy chill of his family’s disappointment, Lan Wangji might have put it aside; he was accustomed to matters of discipline, and had known what he was likely bringing down on his own head when he had done what he did.

He knew his family loved him and only wanted the best for him, even if –

Even if.

But when Lan Wangji ran away from the jingshi to look for himself, finding only a small child, feverish but still capable of a little bit of babbling, still able to tell the story of what had happened – when he found the traces of blood on the ground, Wei Wuxian’s from when his power had backlashed on him – when he saw the bodies in the blood pool, already rotting –

They had kept this from him.

They had kept this from him on purpose.

They had all known.

For the first time in his life, Lan Wangji didn’t want to go home.

He knew he didn’t have a choice, of course. He had nowhere else to go, and the boy’s fever needed to be treated – but he didn’t want to go home.

“Is he all right?” a voice asked from behind him.

Lan Wangji turned, surprised: it was Jiang Cheng, who might very well rank at the top of people he didn’t want to see right now. He had led the siege against Wei Wuxian –

He looked awful.

Eyes full of broken blood vessels, with deep circles beneath them; skin sallow, even grey, as if he’d been stabbed and allowed to bleed out dry. He looked as though he was very nearly a corpse himself.

Jiang Cheng scowled when Lan Wangji didn’t respond.

“Is the boy all right, Hanguang-jun?” he asked, his voice raspy and harsh. “Is he – is he…”

His voice cracked.

“He lives, but he has a fever,” Lan Wangji said, ignoring the steadily increasing pain on his back. He had not been well when he’d escaped from the jingshi, not well at all; the doctors had estimated at least a year to recover, if he didn’t do anything to strain himself – after this outing, it would likely be three. The discipline whip was not kind. “Why do you care? Didn’t you execute the others?”

Jiang Cheng laughed, voice suddenly spiking into something high and horrible, and Lan Wangji abruptly became aware that Jiang Cheng was also, politely speaking, not well. No discipline whip for him, no, but something had gone wrong in the man’s brain – Lan Wangji might almost suspect a qi deviation, if only he hadn’t lived through a war.

If he hadn’t seen what grief could do to a man. How it could hollow them out while they still lived.

“I didn’t,” Jiang Cheng choked. “I didn’t – I told my people to gather them up, to take them back, we were going to interrogate them…at the time it happened, I was – not there.”

“Not there?”

“A coma, apparently,” Jiang Cheng admitted. “Not especially heroic, but then they do leave it out of all the stories: the great Jiang Wanyin, who took up arms against his own shixiong, then swooned like a blushing bride at the sight of – at the sight of –”

“The body.”

Jiang Cheng covered his eyes, shoulder shaking. “There wasn’t one left.”

Lan Wangji shuddered.

“Nothing to put in the memorial hall at home,” Jiang Cheng said. “Even his personal items, they fought over them like dogs, like they were trophies – someone stole Suibian, you know? I only managed to keep Chenqing because I fell on it. It rolled over to me. It was still –” He wavered, then laughed again, very nearly crossing the line between merely hysterical and actually insane. “I had to clean it.”

Lan Wangji had wished he had been there, at the siege, thinking that if he couldn’t save Wei Ying, he could at least die by his side, in his defense. He thought now, for the first time, that perhaps he was glad he wasn’t.

“Did you mean to kill him?” he asked, and Jiang Cheng shook his head mutely. “You led the armies so that you would have first rights to the spoils. To the prisoners.”

To one prisoner in particular.

“Nie Mingjue would have backed me,” Jiang Cheng admitted. “He obeys the rules of war – the largest faction leads, the leader claims the first prize. He didn’t want to be there, but I needed someone to support my claim to be the leader, I threw all those dead Nie cultivators at the Burial Mounds at him until he agreed…he cursed Sect Leader Jin to his face when he found out what they’d done with the rest of the Wens. I wish I’d done the same.”

“Your sect –”

“I wish I had done the same,” Jiang Cheng said, and there were tears dripping down his face. He didn’t notice them, didn’t bother to wipe them away; he had clearly become accustomed to the feeling. “At least then Wei Wuxian would be less burdened. He’s dead, you know.”

Lan Wangji knew.

“I think he must have died a long time ago, and I just never noticed,” Jiang Cheng said. “I was too blinded by my anger, by wanting to kill the Wens. I ignored it all. My shixiong died long ago, and in his place there was another person, the one who did all those things – I never understood why he did it, any of it. He once swore to me that he’d stay by my side, help me rebuild the sect, and then he turned his face away from me and never told me why, acted as if we were strangers, as if I meant nothing to him…and yet, when we were alone, he still talked as if he were the Wei Wuxian I knew.”

He shuddered, shaking hands reaching out to clutch at his sides as if he were suddenly cold.

“It never made any sense,” he mumbled, and maybe he really had lost his mind. “He said he’d stay by my side, but he didn’t; he said he wanted to do the right thing, but he – he killed all those people. So many people. He killed jiejie. He widowed her, then killed her, and – I don’t see how that’s doing the right thing. That couldn’t have been him, could it? Could Wei Wuxian, my Wei Wuxian, really have done all that?”

Lan Wangji didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know how to help – there was nothing he could do to help.

The only person who could help Jiang Cheng was already dead.

Thinking that, Lan Wangji decided to take his leave, but the barest hint of movement sent an abrupt spike of agony though his back, making him stagger; he had been standing too long, and movement was now a problem. He had promised himself he would only come for a moment, just long enough to see with his own eyes what had happened, and then he’d return – and then he’d found little A-Yuan, he’d known his time to stay was running out, he’d meant to leave, but then there was Jiang Cheng –

“Hanguang-jun? Hanguang-jun! Lan Wangji!”

The world went black before his eyes.

When he opened them again, he saw – some incredibly ugly drawings, etched into a wooden bed frame as if with a blunted dagger. He had never before seen anything quite so immediately repulsive to every aesthetic sense he possessed and yet somehow still oddly charming.

“You’re awake, then?”

Lan Wangji turned his head.

Jiang Cheng did not look noticeably better, though he had at least changed clothing; he was drinking a cup of tea with calming herbs, the uncontrollable tremor in his hand sloshing the liquid inside.

They were at the Lotus Pier.

“You brought me back?” Lan Wangji asked.

“The boy wasn’t the only one with a fever,” Jiang Cheng said. “Thirty three lashes with the discipline whip, and you went into a place as rotten as the Burial Mounds – you were almost asking to get sick.”

Lan Wangji could feel that his back had been well-bandaged, well-cared for – Jiang Cheng must have called a doctor. People would know, then, what he had done and what had been done to him in return - his reputation would be ruined, his family’s attempt to save face by claiming that he’d retreated into seclusion would be exposed for the lie it was.

He wished he was petty enough to be bitterly pleased by the thought, but all he felt was sick.

“No one will know if you don’t want them to,” Jiang Cheng said, almost as if he could hear Lan Wangji’s internal debate – he couldn’t, of course. Jiang Cheng was no Lan Xichen: he couldn’t read Lan Wangji’s expressions at all. “My Jiang sect’s Doctor Qin might as well be mute, for all he talks; he’s never said anything to anyone about anything other than medicine in the entire time I’ve known him. But he did say you shouldn’t be moved. For – a while. A long while.”

Lan Wangji wasn’t surprised; that was about what he’d resigned himself to expect. “When will my family come to pick me up?”

Jiang Cheng snorted. “The doctor didn’t say anything about you being deaf. Didn’t you hear me? You can’t be moved. You’re not going anywhere.”

Lan Wangji stared.

“No one uses this room, anyway,” Jiang Cheng continued, purposefully ignoring Lan Wangji’s incredulous gaze. “It’s off-limits to everyone, for good – sealed off. Might as well put you here, where I can keep an eye on you and make sure you’re not getting into trouble; I’m just across the hall.”

Across the hall –

The ugly drawings, the style suddenly breathlessly and painfully familiar.

This had been Wei Wuxian’s room.

Jiang Cheng wanted him to stay here, at the Lotus Pier, in Wei Wuxian’s room.

He shouldn’t, of course. His duty was clear: he should return home.

Lan Wangji thought about returning home – to the cold and empty jingshi, where there was nothing left that reminded him of his mother but his memories; to his uncle who loved him but did not trust him, who had helped kill the one he loved; to his brother who had all but lied directly to his face about it.

He thought about not having to return.

His fingers relaxed. He hadn’t even realized they were tense.

“How is the boy?” he asked, and some of the tension in Jiang Cheng’s shoulders released; he had been afraid that he would refuse and insist on leaving at once, Lan Wangji surmised. For some reason, Jiang Cheng wanted him to stay.

Lan Wangji thought he might know why. They had spent all those months searching together, side-by-side, those months when Wei Wuxian had disappeared – thrown into the Burial Mounds, though they didn’t know it at the time. Being side-by-side with Jiang Cheng again felt almost like being back then.

When they still had hope of finding him.

“He’s fine,” Jiang Cheng said, then frowned. “Depending on your definition of fine, anyway. He’d had a very high fever for a long time – by the time I got you both back here, he’d fallen unconscious; the doctor says he’s lost his memory.”

Lan Wangji thought about the things the boy had babbled about, the stories he’d told of the last moments of his family, the things he’d seen…“Good,” he said. “Better that way.”

“Never use two words when one will do, do you?” Jiang Cheng grumbled in a tone that had faint ambitions of sounding disgusted. “I guess I’ll just have to adjust to that…I’ve told my people that he’s yours, you know.”

Lan Wangji blinked. “Mine?”

“I couldn’t tell them he was surnamed Wen, could I? So it’s Lan Yuan, at least for now. Up to you if you’d prefer to keep your reputation intact by saying he’s a cousin, but it’d be easier if you claimed him as your own – that way no one could separate you. You visited Yunmeng during the war, I could say the mother was someone here. It wouldn’t be hard.”

Lan Wangji’s first instinct was to protest – A-Yuan was Wei Ying’s son, if anybody’s, not his own – but…no. The boy could not live at the Lotus Pier with the surname Wei.

Lan Yuan. It wasn’t a bad name.

He nodded his assent, and Jiang Cheng finished his tea in a single grim-faced swallow, standing up.

“I don’t suppose you told your family where you were going, did you?” he asked, and looked bitterly amused when Lan Wangji shook his head. “I figured as much. No one saw me bring you in, and no one ever comes here; the only ones allowed in the family quarters are my people, through and through. Unless anyone asks, I’m not answering. Let your family worry for a while; it’ll do them some good. You’re the best they have – they shouldn’t take you for granted.”

Lan Wangji wasn’t the sort of person who knew how to be pleased at other people’s misery, the type to be warmed inside by the spite of you hurt me now I’ll hurt you.

It was fine, though. Jiang Cheng would do it for him.

“Thank you,” Lan Wangji said, and didn’t say anything about telling his family where he’d gone. Jiang Cheng’s lips twitched in a smirk for a second. “Can you pass me the pouch I had with me?”

Jiang Cheng huffed and passed it to him. “You can’t play that thing all day and night,” he warned when Lan Wangji pulled out his guqin. “I’m just across the hall, remember?”

Lan Wangji nodded.

“And…”

“I will wait until you have returned before playing Inquiry.”

“Like I even want to talk to him,” Jiang Cheng muttered under his breath, but he didn’t deny that that had been what he had been on the verge of requesting. “It’s just a nice tune, that’s all. Catchy.”

No one had ever described Inquiry as ‘catchy’ before, and Lan Wangji suspected no one ever would again.

“The boy’s still sleeping, but I’ll bring him here when he wakes,” Jiang Cheng said, changing the subject. “I’m hoping to bring Jin Ling here, once in a while – I think Sect Leader Jin will agree if I hint strongly enough that I’ll consider leaving my sect to him if he lets me. I don’t really know how to deal with babies, though.”

“We will figure it out,” Lan Wangji said, and allowed his (totally unjustified) confidence to sooth Jiang Cheng’s ruffled feathers. It wouldn’t be that easy, of course – Jiang Cheng was still walking the tightrope on the verge of insanity, Lan Wangji was nearly crippled, and his family would be frantic once they realized he wasn’t coming home. Staying here was a stupid idea. Stupid, and spiteful.

It felt good.

[hearts-hunger]

suum ca’nara (rest and peace) || din djarin x reader

Read on AO3 || Masterlist

Summary: You and Din take your baby on a picnic, and rest and peace come more easily with the sun on your face and your husband by your side. || Standalone fic in the Jate’kara (Lucky Stars) series

Pairings: Din Djarin x Wife!Reader

Genre: Fluff | Word Count: 4.6k | Warnings: None!

A/N: So this is quite possibly the fluffiest, sweetest thing I’ve ever written. I’m proud of how it turned out, and I hope y’all like it! (Also, this gif is what I imagine Din looking like in this fic - *swoon*, am I right?) (Also also, if you’re interested, the poem I use in this isn’t mine - god, I wish - but it’s called “Do you still remember: falling stars” by Rainer Maria Rilke) ♡

“Ad’ika, I think mama is going to be madder than a razor cat once she sees the mess we’ve made of her kitchen.”

You smiled to yourself at the tone of your husband’s voice, amusement and exasperation coloring it in equal measure. You hadn’t seen the state of the kitchen yet; you were supposed to be sleeping in, but the sounds of laughter and happy baby coos had drawn you from the bunk to see what your husband and toddler were getting up to so early. You guessed they were making breakfast, if Din’s steady, one-sided dialogue was any indication.

“I can never remember how much honey to put in,” he said. “Your ba’buir used to make uj’alayi when I was little, and he never measured anything. Just threw it in the bowl.”

You pictured little Din in the kitchen with his father, hands sticky-sweet as he learned how to make the traditional Mandalorian cake. You imagined your little one was watching Din with the same reverent attention Din had watched his father with, and felt your heart swell with love for your little family.

“That’s probably good enough,” Din said. “Now we need the nuts.”

Your heard your baby give a questioning coo.

“Yeah, those,” Din said. “Hold on, the bag might be a little too - ”

Thunk. The unmistakable sound of Koja nuts rolling across the floor had you bringing your hand up to stifle a laugh. Poor Din.

“That’s ok, buddy,” he said, his voice sweet and patient as he spoke to your most likely distraught baby. Your little one loved to try and help Din whenever he could - whether Din was polishing his armor, tinkering with the Crest’s control panel, or clearing his weapons, your baby could be counted on to be there to “help”. Most of the time, his help consisted of a steady stream of chatter and attempts to do whatever Din was doing, and Din tried to find little ways for him to contribute. That your baby had been trying to help his dad make breakfast and had spilled the nuts everywhere was sure to be upsetting for him.

His little coo of apology was absolutely heartbreaking, and you knew Din would be gentle with him.

“You didn’t mean to,” Din said kindly. “It’s ok. Do you want to help me get these up so we can finish the cake?”

You backed up from the kitchen door while they cleaned up, wanting to stay hidden a little longer. Din loved being a dad, and it came to him so naturally; you cherished the moments you got to enjoy watching or listening to him interact with your son when it was just the two of them.

Your baby started babbling animatedly about something, and Din responded with “oh” and “hmm” at appropriate times, encouraging him to speak and letting him know he was listened to. They finished up the batter and put the cake on to cook, the nanowave oven crackling slightly as it heated up. It was an old model, like everything else on the Crest, and you’d become so accustomed to its finicky nature that it was more familiar than frustrating.

“Osi'kyr,” Din said, dismal. “Your mama needs a new nanowave, huh?”

Your baby chirped his agreement.

“Yeah, we’ll have to see about getting her one,” Din said. “Maybe Peli knows somebody we can ask. But for right now, we have to get this place cleaned up before mama sees.”

“Before mama sees what?”

You came out of your hiding place around the corner and were met with two guilty smiles, both Din and your baby looking like you’d caught them with their hands in the cookie jar. Your little one was sitting up on the counter, an uncracked Koja nut in hand, his ears perking up at the sight of you. Din was covered in flour - little baby-sized handprints covered his black shirt and trousers, and streaks of white appeared in his sleep-mussed curls. The kitchen was a mess, like he’d said, but it was worth it to see the two of them so happy.

“Hi, cyare,” Din said, his smile a little sheepish.

Your baby added his own coo of greeting, and you couldn’t help but smile back.

“Good morning to you too,” you said. You gave your son a kiss on the top of his head. “What are you and daddy making?”

He waved the Koja nut in his claws for you to see. 

“Uj’alayi,” Din clarified.

You smiled. “Cake for breakfast, huh?”

He grinned. “Yeah, well, it’s got fruit in it. It’s healthy.”

He leaned close and kissed you, sweet with the taste of honey and ginger from the batter he’d tested before it went in the oven. He held his flour-dusted hands to the side of you so as not to get you messy too.

“Good morning, Mrs. Djarin,” he said sweetly, bumping your noses together.

You beamed. “Good morning, Mr. Djarin.” You gave him another quick kiss. “Do you want some help getting the kitchen cleaned back up?”

He looked a little distressed as he pulled back. “No, I mean - you don’t have to help. You didn’t make the mess.”

You gave an affectionate shake of your head. “Din. I don’t mind.”

He softened. “Well, if you’re offering. It’s very sweet of you, cyare. Sorry it’s such a disaster.”

“It’s not that bad,” you said, waving him off. “Most of the flour ended up on you and not on the counters, anyway.”

He chuckled. “Yeah, we had a hard time getting it in the bowl.” He took a cloth and began wiping down the counters, scooping your baby up while he did.

“But we’re ramikadyc mandos,” he continued. “Determined, tenacious. Not to be bested by cake batter.”

Your baby chimed in to agree with his dad. You laughed as you filled the sink with hot water.

“How did I get the two bravest Mandalorians in the galaxy on my ship?” you teased.

Din considered that. “I think you’ve just got good jate’kara, my love.”

You gave a pleased hum as he kissed you. “My stars are pretty lucky, aren’t they?”

He smiled. “Not as lucky as mine, cyare.”

When the kitchen was back in order, Din excused himself to take a shower while the cake finished baking. You got your little one dressed for the day in a soft, hand-stitched blue tunic Omera had made for him and tidied the bunk before heading back to the kitchen as the timer went off.

“Quiet a view, cyar’ika.”

You blushed at the teasing warmth of your husband’s voice as you took the pan from the oven and straightened, setting it to cool out of your baby’s reach. You turned and saw Din had changed into a soft white shirt and brown pants, his suspenders resting against his hips, his hair dark and curly from his shower.

“I’ve got quite a view, too,” you said, a little bashful as he smiled and crossed to you. You only had a moment to admire the endearing crinkles by his eyes before he kissed you, all tenderness and affection.

Your little one cooed and you both looked down to see him standing on the top of Din’s boot, tugging on his pants leg and giving uppy arms. Din chuckled and scooped him up, cradling him with one arm and drawing you close with the other.

“Let’s go somewhere fun today,” he said. “This system has some beautiful planets. We can have a picnic or something.”

You smiled. “Okay,” you agreed. You were a little surprised, as Din wasn’t usually very spontaneous, but the idea of a day spent just spending time with him and your baby sounded lovely. “Where should we go?”

He kissed your forehead. “I’ll go look and see what we’re closest to.”

He took the baby up to the cockpit with him to scan the nearby planets, giving you a few minutes for your own shower. You took two slices of uj’alayi when you went to join them; you gave one to Din, and he broke off little pieces to share with the baby.

“I think we decided on a planet,” Din said, indicating the display on the instrument panel.

“Baraan-Fa,” you read. “It’s forested, low population... is it safe?”

He shrugged. “Should be, with the place we’re landing. Most of the population density is around the town and the old Rebel base, so we shouldn’t run into anybody.”

You took your seat, happily taking your baby when Din handed him over to you so he could set your course. You were amused to see that your little one had succeeded in charming Din into giving him the silver handle off the gear shift, and he held it up for you to see.

“Your daddy must love you,” you cooed to him.

Din glanced back at you, his expression bemused before he saw what you were talking about. His smile was a little exasperated.

“Maybe we should get him some actual toys.”

You laughed. “He wouldn’t play with them even if we did, honey. He wants to be like you.”

“Yeah.” Din’s expression was soft with affection, and you knew he didn’t really mind that his son had chosen a part of the ship for his plaything. He turned back to focus on bringing the Crest into Baraan-Fa’s atmosphere, and you and your baby looked out the windows in pleasantly surprised wonder at the beauty of the planet. Every inch of it was green, hilly grasslands with blue rivers snaking through the forests. Din expertly landed in a small clearing in the middle of a wooded area, settling the Crest into a glade dappled with sunlight.

No sooner had the ship landed than you were out of your seat and downstairs, impatiently waiting for the ramp to lower as the welcoming breeze flooded into the Crest’s hull. You set your baby down on the soft grass and let him explore a little, tilting your head back to feel the sun on your face, breathing deeply of the clean air.

“You like it?” Din asked. You opened your eyes to see him leaned against the door frame, watching you with a gentle smile. You would have beamed back at him and told him how much you loved it had it not been for the sudden concern you felt at his appearance.

“You’re not wearing your armor,” you said. Checking briefly to make sure the baby hadn’t wandered too far, you stepped up the ramp towards your husband and made to steer him back inside the Crest’s relative privacy.

“Din - ” you protested when he gave a soft laugh and captured your wrists in a gentle grip, just as you had put your hands on his chest to push him back inside. “What if someone sees?”

He held both of your hands close to his heart. “There’s nobody here, cyare. I checked. It’s sweet of you to worry, but you don’t have to.”

You gave him a doubtful look. “You’re going to be out here without a helmet?” That sounded awfully reckless to you.

“I want to be able to kiss you,” he said, giving you a chaste kiss to illustrate his point. “And I want to swim in the river and feel the sun on my face. Can’t do all that with beskar on, now can I?”

You sighed. “No, but...” You met his eyes. “It doesn’t frighten you?”

He softened. “Sure it does,” he admitted. “A little. I don’t know how long it’s been since I’ve been out of the Crest without armor on. But that’s exactly why I want to. And if there’s no danger of anyone seeing me... I think it’ll be alright.”

He tapped the bracelet on your wrist, a modified version of his vambrace with the same remote controls of the Crest programmed in. “Besides, I told the Crest to alert us if there’s anyone nearby. It’ll be alright.”

You reached up to brush your fingers through his hair. “Well, it would be nice to see your face,” you said. “If you’re sure about it.”

He smiled and kissed you again. “I’m sure, cyar’ika. Come on, let’s go get our son before he wanders right into the river.”

You looped your arm through his, feeling like one of the promenading couples you always saw growing up on Naboo. He was a bit scruffier and dressed more casually than any young man on Naboo would be, but you liked him that way. 

As he led you on a leisurely stroll towards the river, minding your little one closely, you took the opportunity to enjoy being outside with him and being able to see his every expression. Din was nothing if not expressive, especially in his brow, and his face was alight with a happiness and peace that made his handsome features all the more alluring.

“Is there a word in Mando’a for ‘very handsome’?” you asked.

He looked over at you with a touch of confusion, either playing coy or just being genuinely oblivious. You suspected the latter, and it was endearing to you.

“No,” he said. “But there’s ‘very beautiful’ - ori mesh’la - and it means the same thing.”

You smiled. “Well then, Din, I think you’re ori mesh’la.”

His cheeks pinked. “Well, thank you, cyare,” he said, endearingly bashful. He smiled. “I think you’re ori mesh’la, too.”

You could have watched his face forever, charmed by his blush and the way his curls looked in the sun, but your baby gave an excited babble and drew you attention. Just in time, too, as he was barrelling full-speed towards the river without a care in the world.

“Oh, ad’ika,” you chided, unwinding yourself from Din and scooping your baby up before he reached the water. His ears drooped as you held him.

 “I know you want to go in, my love,” you cooed. “But you have to be careful.”

You saw why he’d been so eager to get in the water - the riverbed was covered in bright, colorful stones, glinting where they caught the sun through the water. You knelt on the bank and held your baby in your lap, reaching into the pleasantly cool water to scoop up a handful of the stones.

“Look how pretty,” you said, drawing them close so he could take a few. He grabbed the biggest one and turned it over in his claws, mesmerized by the opalescent shimmer.

“Batu,” he said, holding it up for you to see. You smiled. You and Din hadn’t quite figured out what “batu” meant, but it seemed to signal his approval, and you were always pleased to hear it.

“I see,” you said, charmed by his enthusiasm. “Show daddy.”

You stood and turned to face Din, who was watching the two of you with a gentle smile on his face. His brow quirked in excitement when he saw his baby holding the stone out to him.

“Look at that, ad’ika,” he said, coming close to examine it.

“Batu,” your baby said again. Din grinned.

“Yeah, ‘batu’,” he repeated. “You want to go find some more?”

At your little one’s happy coo, you and Din kicked off your shoes to wade into the shallow river. Din rolled the hem of his trousers as well as yours, since your hands were full with the baby, and pressed a kiss to your thigh before he rose.

The water lapped just above your ankles with the gentle current, and you spent a few minutes looking through the clear water to find the stones you thought were prettiest. Your baby wriggled to be put down, but the water was a little too deep for him, and you settled on drawing up handfuls of rocks for him to sort through.

“Hey, cyare, look at this one.”

You turned to see the stone your husband had found and were met with a splash of water.

“Din!” you squeaked, a smile crossing your face. Your baby giggled with delight at having been splashed, and the sound mixed with Din’s warm laughter.

“Sorry, love,” he chuckled. “Couldn’t resist.”

“Oh yeah?” you challenged. You bent down and splashed him back, getting him more thoroughly than he’d gotten you; he laughed and sputtered as he wiped his face on the shoulder of his shirt.

“That was so much worse than mine,” he said. “You’re awful.”

“Good thing you like me so much,” you said cooly.

He grinned. “Yeah, lucky you.” He kissed you and brushed the water from your face. You’d grown accustomed to the feel of his leather gloves, but you’d always prefer the gentleness of his hands, rough from years of hard work but always touching you in love. 

Pressed between the two of you and impatient to get in the water, your baby patted Din’s chest and babbled up at him.

“Come on, buddy,” Din said, taking him from your arms. “You want to swim a little bit?”

“You’re swimming in your clothes?” you asked.

He gave you a wry smile. “Why not? I’m already half-soaked.”

Your smile was slightly guilty. “I'm sorry about that, actually,” you said. “I didn’t mean to splash you so much.”

He chuckled. “I know. I’m not upset. Besides, it’s warm enough that it won’t take very long to dry off.” He nodded towards the bank where a flat rock jutted out over the water. “I was just going to sit over there and let him play where it’s shallow.”

“Oh,” you said. “Well, in that case, I’ll sit with you.”

You played with them for a long while, sitting shoulder to shoulder with Din while he held your baby’s hands and let him splash around in the shallow water. Despite his excitement, your baby was a little hesitant once he was actually in the water, and held tightly to Din’s fingers. As his fear eased and his confidence grew, he was happy to stay within his dad’s reach and only occasionally grabbed onto Din’s trouser leg when he lost his balance. His outfit was thoroughly soaked within minutes of his delighted splashing, but he didn’t seem to mind; he played happily and kept handing rocks to you, and you cooed over every one. 

You might have stayed with them and watched your little one play for hours on end if it hadn’t been for Din’s stomach starting to growl; you realized you were hungry too and playfully nudged your shoulder against his.

“Should I go get us some lunch?” you asked.

His smile was a little sheepish. “If you wouldn't mind,” he said. “I can get it, if you don’t want to.”

You ran a hand over his back. “I don’t mind,” you assured him. “What do you want to eat?”

“Whatever,” he said. “You know me.”

“So, just a whole ori'skraan, then?” you teased. Mandalorians always had big elaborate feasts at their celebrations to make up for the fact that they ate rations more often than not, since they were easier while on a hunt; you’d had the pleasure of attending a few during your marriage, including the one at your wedding.

Your husband grinned. “That’ll be just fine, cyare.”

You kissed his cheek before you stood, waving goodbye to your baby. You heard Din console your little one as you left towards the ship, explaining that you’d be right back.

You found the length of fabric you used for a baby sling and tied it around you like Din had shown you; Mandalorians carried their babies in a birikaad, to keep their hands free for fighting, and this was nearly identical to that style. You filled the sling with food from your pantry, wrapping up a few slices of the uj’alayi cake for dessert, and folded up one of the spare blankets to picnic on.

You heard Din singing as you walked back to the river. You almost didn’t realize it was him, at first - he was usually so shy about his singing voice, and he reserved it for lullabies when your baby was very fussy or drinking songs when he was deep in his cups with friends. He sang to you, occasionally, when you asked him to, and he was always endearingly bashful.

His voice carried over the clearing, mixing with the sound of the river and your baby’s happy laughter, and you drank it in the closer you got to him. It was a beautiful song, full of longing; Din’s warm baritone made it rich and lovely. The lyrics were in Mando’a, and you were too caught up in the sound of your husband’s voice to translate; you let his voice wash over you, warming you from head to toe.

You didn’t know how long he would have kept singing if your baby hadn’t caught sight of you, giving a happy coo of welcome. Din’s voice cut short as he turned, perhaps fearing you were someone else, but his expression softened into a smile as soon as he saw you.

“Hi,” he said.

You smiled. “Hi.” You rested a hand on his shoulder. “Don’t stop singing on my account.”

He blushed. “No, I’d been singing that one over and over. I’m sure ad’ika’s tired of hearing it.”

You knew that wasn’t true; your little one calmed faster to Din’s voice than he did to anything else. You didn’t want to embarrass him, though, and carded a hand through your husband’s sun-warmed curls.

“You two hungry?” you asked.

You baby gave an affirmative babble and gave his dad uppy arms; Din obliged him and dried him off a little as you spread out the picnic blanket. Your little one came and sat in your lap as Din helped you set out the food. 

“You missed your mama, didn’t you?” Din said sweetly. You brushed an affectionate hand over your baby’s ears and swapped the bright purple stone he held for a piece of fruit. He watched your hand carefully to make sure you hadn’t really taken his prize away for good; satisfied when you set it next to you on the blanket, he happily ate the bite-sized food you and Din took turns giving to him.

Din took your baby back to the river as you tidied up after lunch, and you were happy to watch and listen to them play as you stretched out on the blanket and read the book you’d taken from the shelf in the bunk. It was a collection of poems that Din had gotten you for your birthday, and even though you’d been excited to read it, you hadn’t had much spare time lately. You were quickly absorbed in the poetry as you read; the sun was warm on your back, and the sounds of your husband and baby playing created a comforting backdrop.

They came back from the river after a while, their hands full of brightly colored stones, their clothes half-soaked, and their expressions as tired as they were happy. Din set your baby down and let him toddle over to you; your little one added his stones to the collection you’d made, his ears perking up as he sorted through them.

“All done?” you asked, giving Din a gentle smile as he dropped his handful of stones into the pile. 

He hummed in agreement. “For now, anyways. He probably needs a rest.”

Your husband gave a soft groan as he lay beside you, tired and comfortable in the warm sun. “Your baby is a pretty good swimmer, mama.”

You closed your book and looked over at your little one; his smile was wide at his dad’s praise, and you couldn’t help but smile back.

“I saw,” you said, tapping his nose and earning a giggle in response. “Did you like swimming with daddy?”

Your little one gave an affirmative coo as he abandoned the rocks and climbed up onto Din; with a great big yawn for such a little thing, he lay on Din’s chest and snuggled close when Din laid a hand over his back.

“Tired you out, didn’t it, ad’ika?” you said gently, brushing a finger over his ear. You looked to Din’s face and saw he was already dozing too.

You smiled. “Wore your daddy out too, I see.” His hair was light in the sun, almost golden in some places; his cheeks were rosy and sunkissed under his scruff, his expression peaceful and soft.

You kissed his cheek. “Did you know I love you?”

He gave a soft smile. “Yeah, I know. I love you too.” He turned his face towards you, your noses bumping together, his kisses tender and drowsy. You brushed your fingers through his hair.

“You’re gonna take a nap?” you asked, keeping your voice soft for your baby’s sake. He was already asleep, curled snugly under his dad’s hand, rocked by the gentle rise and fall of Din’s chest.

Din gave a content sigh. “Maybe. Lay here with me, cyare.”

You gave a soft laugh. “I’m not going anywhere, honey.” You kissed the bridge of his nose. “You want me to read to you?”

He nodded, moving his free hand to rest on the curve of your lower back. “What book is it?”

“The one you gave me for my birthday,” you said, flipping through the pages until you found where you’d left off. “Ancient Keltrian Poets, remember?”

He hummed in agreement. “You like it?”

“I love it,” you said sincerely. “Here - I was in the middle of this one, but I’ll start it from the beginning.”

You read to him for a while, pausing to underline or make notes when you found a line you really liked; his fingers drew circles on your lower back as he listened and made a few comments here and there.

“For stars, innumerable, leapt everywhere,” you read. “Almost every gaze upwards became welded to the swift hazard of their play, and our heart felt like a single thing beneath that vast disintegration of their brilliance.”

You traced your fingers over that stanza. “That’s kind of like our vows, don’t you think? ‘We are one when together, we are one when parted.’ Our heart feels like a single thing.”

When you didn’t get an answer, you looked over at your husband. “Din?”

He shifted a little, and you realized he’d fallen asleep. 

“Alright, cyare?” he mumbled.

“Sorry,” you said softly. “I didn’t mean to wake you up.”

He ran his hand over your back. “That’s ok, love.” Even mostly asleep, he still comforted you with intentional gentleness. “What did you say?”

You smiled. “Nothing. Just that I love you.”

He tilted his chin up just a little, asking for a kiss; you obliged him, gently pressing your mouth to his.

“Keep reading,” he said. “I love the sound of your voice.”

You softened. “I love the sound of your voice, too.” You brushed a wayward curl from his forehead. “What was that song you were singing earlier?”

A flicker of a smile crossed his face. “Naasad'guur mhi,” he said. “It’s a drinking song.”

“It’s pretty,” you said.

He hummed in agreement.

“What’s it about?” you asked.

“It says, ‘nobody likes us, we don’t care, we are the elite Mando boys from Mandalore.’”

You laughed. “That’s really what it says?”

He smiled. “Yeah. It sounds really nice when you have a bunch of people singing it all together.”

You gently ran your knuckles over his scruff. “Will you sing it for me later?”

“Sure, cyare. If you want me to.”

You settled closer to him and flipped the page to the next poem, reading it aloud a bit more quietly than you would have usually. Din’s breathing evened out until he was snoring softly; you smiled when you saw the way your baby had a fistful of Din’s shirt held tightly in his hand. The sound of the river kept you company as you read about stars and rainstorms and fields of aura blossoms; Din’s warmth beside you was comforting and steady. Days of rest and peace were few and far between for your little family, but they were sweeter for it; you held tightly to them when they came, and always thanked the jate’kara for days like these.

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