#at least it's not immediately obvious i have a strong enough grip i could probably snap someone's neck without much effort at this point

[le4ftea]

So, uhh how would Tanjiro Inosuke and Genya act after having sex with their s/o for the first time? Would they be protective? Shy? Lovey-dovey? Thank you ^^

OWO HONEY. I'll tell you.

Demon Slayer Boys after being Intimate. G/N!Reader

Tanjirou

When he found out about you liking him back...

He was shaking with excitement, his hands shaking and his fingers going numb.

He was so happy that he felt that he could die and know that at least he had you.

But when you both had sex

He was very passionate and kind with each thrust, the world spinning with every deep pound into you.

After you both had lose your innocents to one another

He was shy and very gentle with you the next day, and felt as if he fell in love with you all over again.

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You softly hummed as you felt like the day had been washed in vanilla and cinnamon, the morning was somehow more lovely then before. Slowly rising up from the bed, you felt a bit of soreness in the lower half of your body.

Groaning quietly to yourself, you sat up.

A fuzzy bath robe wrapped around you yet slipped off your shoulders due to the fact it was a little bigger then usual.

Both of your bare shoulders shining with a pink blush.

Still half closed, you looked around the room almost drunkly.

Confused of why you were alone in the bed you passionately shared with the hero to all himself.

Tanjirou.

Without another minute of worry of his where abouts, the sliding doors open in a clumsy way.

A soft gasp leaving whomever it was, as the sound of dishes cling together.

"Oh oh no!" He whispered shouted as they struggled with the door and what seemed to be a tray.

You stumble onto your feet and quietly walk over to the man at the door, gently holding the door open for him to enter.

A soft smile on your face as you spoke to him, silky and smooth.

"Need help love?"

Tanjirou squaled and almost fell back from your sudden presence.

"D-Darling! Did I wake you?" Sounding worried about being to loud.

Giggling and shaking your head you replied with a 'no'.

Tanjirou had brought a tray of rice eggs and bacon that had sliced green onion and some yellow mashed potatoes that had some cheese inside, with some tea.(I wish I could eat this.)

A small blush on your face at the cute gesture.

You sat next to him and kissed his cheek.

Turning to face you immediately, his face burning a bright red. Almost whimpering at you.

Both of you grabbed your chop sticks and started to eat while you asked why he brought the food himself.

He looked away as he scratched his cheek, a blush still visible.

"Well... I just felt bad that I went to rough on you last night, I got selfish near the end and gave into my needs and probably hurt you a bit. So I asked if I could take our food here today as an apology."

His mood at change the atmosphere in the room, his face also turned into a sad frown.

You gently crested his cheek drawing his attention to you.

"You didn't hurt me love, all you did is make me fall in love with you more."

His frown jumped into a smile as a small tears popped from his eyes.

He would never be able to let you go now.

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Inosuke

He was very obvious with his crush on you, yet you seemed to be denser then a brick.

When he start up told you he loved you.

You had no other choice but to know.

And when you both finally got intimate.

Holy Hell.

This man was going really hard and rough with you, gentle groaning as you screamed his name. It was like he had been waiting forever to pound you into the bed.

Like a beast breeding his mate.

The next day he was in a daze almost for a week.

Not speaking to anyone but only staying by your side with flowers dancing around him.

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Laying on his chest, you would occasionally snuggle into him. His arm underneath you holding you closer to him.

His other laying on his toned stomach.

You both stayed like this for a while till you had the feeling of hunger, stomach grumbling quite loud now.

You pushed yourself from his warm body and saw his state that you didn't notice before.

He seemed to be a melted puddle of happiness, his aura a heart warmed glow as he had finally had you.

A dopey grin on his face until he saw you about to leave, gripping your wrist he sat up too. Looking you in your eyes deeply.

"I'm going to get food Inosuke" you whined almost at the growing hunger.

He pouted and almost asked you to stay with his eyes alone, his body language begging for you to not leave him yet.

Sighing you stood up but helped him up too and hugged him.

"Just come with me, we can eat together." His aura rising back to a heart warming glow as you felt hims nod, grabbing his bore hat he placed it on and walked with you to find food.

Sitting outside together, munching on bean buns. Humming at the yummy flavors, you turned to look at Inosuke.

A soft smile on his mouth as he ate his bun, still happy as a puppy that got a treat.

You giggled and sat closer to him as you both enjoyed eachother presences.

The wamr spring breeze blowing soft smells of nature, it was a perfect morning with Inosuke.

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Genya

This man was so rough when it came to all but you. He just silently stays by your side and always make sure he gives you enough attention.

When he confessed to you, he was a stuttering mess which was quite out of character.

And when you both decided to have sex

O my God.

You would think he would go crazy

But when he put himself in.

He would slowly pound into you, with each thrust he would whisper how much you truly meant to him.

Telling you how long he waited to be connected with you.

And he made sure you had at least four orgasms.

So in the morning he was more prideful then ever and actually acted happy to others which made people scared for their lives.

He also marked you up quite a lot on your neck to make sure they all knew you both were together.

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"Ouch! G-Genya that hurts!"

You whined as Genya gently pressed each hickey that was a beautiful purple on your neck.

Small tears forming at your big loveable eyes.

The morning was bright and fresh as the two of you woke form your long night of love making, the both of you were hugging one another when you guys opened your eyes.

Genya quickly moved away from you and wore blush of crimson while yelling at you to not get the wrong idea.

Even though the two of you basically saw eachother naked.

You both chatted about how silly he was acting but Genya smirked when he saw your neck that looked like you came back from a fight.

Blushing at how many you had, he kissed each one with a cute smile on his rough face.

"You look so beautiful."

He made sure you did not hide any of his marks with your cloths and walked with you around the temple where all of the demon slayers stayed.

The others asked if you were okay since you looked like you were in a fight to the death.

You waved them off, saying it was nothing serious and they shouldn't worry to much.

As you drifted off to the reality of what gave you such mark in the first place.

Blushing and shaking the heat from your face, you saw in the corner of your eye.

Genya grinning like an idiot. But you found this quite charming.

Running to him after saying your goodbye to the others you were talking too

You hugged Genya and hid your face in his chest, a soft groan at the sudden impact.

He frantically tried to get you off him as you could tell he was blushing at your embrace, you laughed to yourself quietly as you heard his heart beating faster then anything in the world.

He was adorable in his own strong way.

[yandere-sins]

Stares

Horrortober Day 5: Disturbance “Nothing can interrupt us now.”

I will admit I wrote this one way too late into the night. I should go to sleep yikes :’D Enjoy!

Warnings: Yandere, Body Horror, Kidnapping, Molestation, Harrassment, Sexual Innuendos/Actions Characters: Sukuna x Reader

It was rare to see the King of Curses calm and even a little approachable.

Not that you liked seeing him at all, but you preferred it this way than any other. Ever so often, he peeked out of Itadori Yuji’s face, taunting you, belittling his host. However, you were just glad to get through with your work that day, teaching the boy the necessary theory he had to learn. You’d be gone before you had to deal with the host or the curse inside of him, just like every day. Routine, that’s what Nanami called it. Routine would benefit all of you, but you still hadn’t come around to like what you were forced to do.

Morally, it was wrong to call the boy a curse. He ate something cursed, and now he was beyond screwed, but still… Whenever you saw him, pure survival instinct ran through your veins. You wanted to defeat him, end this miserable life, but you weren’t allowed. Sorcerers weren’t supposed to teach curses, just kill. But you were torn between your orders and duty, looking at what was sitting in front of you.

Asking other sorcerers for their opinion on the matter, and you were faced with the same responses. The same struggle and conflict you were facing, except, maybe, Gojo, who seemed to be unbothered by what he dragged into your holy halls. However, the most unnerving thing that came up in conversation was how often Sukuna showed himself in your class… but not in the others. Given, they did see the casual third or fourth eye, or one mouth too many. Still, even if the others were unnerved, they chose to ignore, while you were the only one to actually have spoken to the king—though it was no honor.

“Brat, the teacher’s staring.” Instantly, Yuji’s attention shifted to the extra mouth on his cheek and then to you, expecting you to say something. You quickly caught your composure, not having realized you’ve been staring - probably in disgust - at him, almost feeling bad. Clearing your throat, you picked up your book again, shaking your head in denial before continuing to monotonously read the text inside of it out loud. Sorcerer history hadn’t been your favorite subject either, but you were stuck with it, unfortunately. Yuji was diligent enough, but even while you read, you couldn’t get your mind off the threat in front of you.

Especially not when long, clawed fingers gripped your book by the spine, lowering it with surprising force.

“No, you’ve been staring. There’s no denying it, Sorcerer, spit it out,” Sukuna grinned at you cheekily, having temporarily taken over your real student.

“I was trying not to vomit looking at you,” you snarled back, slapping his hand away that he retracted in fake hurt. “Bad liar,” he called you before the marks suddenly faded, Yuji going back to being himself.

“Ah, sorry about that,” he muttered apologetically like so many times before. And you sighed, assuring him it wasn’t his fault.

»»————————

It wasn’t his fault either when Sukuna cornered you in one of the hallways around the school. Being cornered by strong two arms did not give you the butterflies that all these novels always tried to sell. Granted, you flinched pretty hard, but once you were face to face with him, your anger far outweighed your fear. He was scary, no question asked. Sukuna could destroy you with a flick of his finger. But somehow, naively so, you didn’t believe he would. Something about ‘he could have, but he hasn’t’ made you bold apparently. Stupidly so.

“You’re not supposed to be here,” you hissed, and he rolled his eyes. Yuji’s body looked stupidly wasted on him, the boy being such a ray of sunshine in contrast to his evil counterpart. Sukuna didn’t become him. His attitude didn’t.

“You’ve been staring at me,” he repeated. Why was the topic so important to him?

“So what? What is it to you?” you returned snidely. Lips curling into a grin, you felt like you had actually humored him. Not the direction you wanted to go with the King. “Well, I wanted a good look at you…” he mumbled, his eyes driving from the shirt on your collarbones to the shoes you were wearing slowly, noticeably, and… lusty.

“...too,” he finished his sentence before licking his lips.

“Disgusting,” you whispered dryly, staring at him perturbed, and Sukuna chuckled at your obvious rejection.

“Well, I have what I wanted.”

Before you could repeat, he disappeared, leaving behind a slumping student of yours, and you cursed the King of Curses quietly, dropping everything to had in your arms to support Yuji. “Asshole,” you mumbled, and for a brief moment, you thought you heard him chuckle again, but you couldn’t be sure.

»»————————

It was him. He was planning something all along, and you knew it.

But no one could see it since this plan almost exclusively involved you.

“Shrivel and die,” you told him through gritted teeth, pushing at his chest as hard as you could. Sukuna was undeterred, pressing you against the old chalkboard and nibbling on your earlobe. Why did no one believe you when you swore up and down that he wasn’t just a quiet bystander? That he indeed was trying to do something—or someone?

“I do love a filthy mouth,” he sighed, making you want to throw up just from the implications alone. Even with your elbow between you, there was no movement. The other sorcerers had told you about Yuji’s strength, but you didn’t think you couldn’t handle it. Apparently, however, you couldn’t, and it was infuriating. While Sukuna was doing as he pleased, you decided on a different approach, opening your mouth to scream.

Finally, it caused some reaction in him, his head recoiling at the jarring sound, but before long, your lips were captured with his, a fight breaking out between your mouths. He was trying to silence you efficiently with his tongue in your throat, the mere thought of kissing a student repulsing you, and you were biting at his lips which didn’t seem to bother Sukuna at all.

“Someone will come,” you reminded him fiercely as he broke away to give you some air.

“Silly,” he only commented before kissing you again. You were hammering at his chest, trying to make your disapproval evident, but it was to no avail. Sukuna wouldn’t budge. Only when he, mercifully, allowed another breath, you screamed again, using your palms to defend from his face closing in to shut you up. The weight of his body was pressing you into the wall painfully, but realizing your powers simply wouldn’t show no matter how hard you tried was even worse. Did he have some kind of ability that stole your energy from you? Was it fear that blocked you from using it? Were you afraid?

You were. 

It was indeed silly, even if it was painful to agree with Sukuna. You never feared for your life, taking every day and mission as it came. But you were scared now because of the monster in front of you. You had been right: you should have killed him when you could. Stupid! Absolutely stupid to keep around!

Even you understood that it wasn’t death you feared. You feared Sukuna’s presence and the effects it had on you. How defenseless you were suddenly and how, even though he always disappeared in the end after annoying you, he just didn’t seem to let go of you now. 

“Scream some more,” he taunted, and you weren’t going to object. Immediately, you put up the fight again, feeling your lungs clench when you robbed them of all the air to get some help. But nothing happened. “I like it when they struggle,” Sukuna laughed, crazy, madly, victoriously. As if he won a war you didn’t know about.

“Come, open your eyes! Look where you are!” he encouraged you, grinning from ear to ear. Confused, you looked around, seeing the same old classroom that you always had when teaching Yuji. The sight slowly began to shift, fog collecting at your feet and the walls moving unnaturally under your gaze. You’ve been scared before, but it was nothing compared to what you felt as everything shifted. 

You hadn’t realized it. 

Not for one moment did you know he activated his domain, something no one had been able to explore until now. It was different from what you expected, much more vast and deadly. But you also saw the remainders of the classroom, and you wondered how much of it was taking up the actual reality. Horrified, you looked around, now knowing your screams wouldn’t echo for no one but you two here. You always thought you were a decent sorcerer but maybe… maybe you were nothing at all. At least not in the eyes of Sukuna.

“Finally,” Sukuna sighed, satisfied and seemingly exhausted by effort you didn’t know he was making. “Nothing can interrupt us now. I just needed you to lower your guard.”

“You…” Your mumble was met with deafening silence. Not even Sukuna’s breathing made a sound in this space, and you immediately felt claustrophobic in the pitch black that encased the realm. His realm.

“I was nice. I waited. Those… manga said it was proper in these times, though, I don’t care for them. But you kept staring at me as if you were trying to kill me. Do you know how hard it was to wait? A king shouldn’t have to wait-no. I shouldn’t have to wait for you when you are coming on to me.”

Blinking a few times, you looked back at him. Perhaps, for the first time, you were truly meeting his gaze, always finding a reason to not look at him directly before. But not anymore. Now you were indeed looking at him, not remembering those times he said you stared when this was the first and only time you really saw him. “It’s been too long that I had company. How nice of you to offer yourself up to me~”

“I never did-” you tried to argue, but you were swept into another kiss, flailing in his arms as you feared falling. Endlessly. You could no longer discern where the realm started and ended. “You’re mine now,” he growled, unhinged.

“I will devour you, Looker. It’s punishment for not welcoming me sooner. There’s a lot to make up for.”

You’ve never seen Sukuna calm before. Because if what you had witnessed was what you called calm, it had been because he was waiting for the right moment. The right moment to pounce, and to your misery, it was now. Stares could kill, people said. It was true, you found out, as you killed yourself with it by making the King of Curses recognize you. Though, you wished you were dead.

You merely killed your freedom with your actions, as there was no way Sukuna would let you have that ever again after you piqued his interest unwillingly.

[mothra-mcyt]

☾ "Don't worry i'm here now." ☽

platonic!Philza x reader

!Trigger Warning: aftermath of physical abuse, blood!

Summary:

After your biological angry father thought taking his anger out on you physically was the best idea, you ran out of the house. Not knowing what to do you called the person that would be able to comfort and help you most in that moment. Philza Minecraft.

2.2k words

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Moving your legs as fast as you could you felt rainwater slowly drench your feet. With every sharp breath you took in you could feel your lungs more hurting. The tears streaming down your face blurred your vision making it hard to see where you're going but you could care less.

The only thing on your mind right now was getting away. Away from the danger that is at home.

What you didn't expect was to see your dad standing in front of you, brows furrowed in anger and beer bottle in his hand when you came home. You couldn't understand much about what he was shouting at you about but when he stomped down on your ribs while blaming you for loosing his job you began to understand what he was so raged about.

Thinking back to it you put your hand over where you know a boot formed bruise would probably form in purple colours.

You came back to your senses when you slipped in a puddle and slammed down onto the ground. A groan left your mouth feeling the already strong pain intensifying.

Trying your best at wiping away the tears forming in your eyes again to look around you saw where you ran.

The train station where you met Wilbur, Tommy, Phil etc. for the first time. Immediately memories started running through your head of seeing Tommy sprint out of the train, running up to you and hugging you as tight as he could. Or of Phil trying to hold you and Wilbur back from trying to steal a pigeon.

At the thought of Phil your eyes started to water again.

He always was there for you, always making sure you took care of yourself.

Never was mad at you when you made a mistake.

He was always so nice and gentle, you didn't want to bother him with your family problems.

None of you talked about it but both of you knew he was basically your father figure.

"Maybe i should call him...but wouldn't i just annoy him i did that... fuck it."

Thankfully you remembered to grab your phone when you started sprinting through the front door onto the sidewalk in a panicked state. Carefully taking it out of your pocket a curse left your mouth. The water of the rain soaked through your pants making your phone wet. Praying to whoever is out there you hoped that it wasn't broken.

A sigh of relief left your mouth when your phone screen lit up showing your familiar background image.

"Dammit. Only 23% left."

Unlocking your phone you immediately went to your contacts. Tapping on Phil's name you were about to press on the call button but you hesitated.

"Is this really a good idea...what if he's busy right now..."

Not realising it your finger accidentally pressed on the call button. Panicking you were about to stop the call but Phil already picked up.

"Hey mate what's going on. Why did you call me?"

Completely frozen you tried to think of a way to get out of this situation but before you could say anything Phil's voice started coming out of the phone again.

"Wait a minute. I hear rain. Are you outside?! It's in the middle of the night! Why are you outside?!"

"I- I'm sorry Phil. I don't know. I don't know anymore."

"Where are you, Are you okay?!"

"I'm at the train station Phil. The one where You, Wilbur, Tommy and the others met me for the first time."

You tried to your best to hide the fact that you were crying in your voice but apparently it didn't work well enough.

"Isn't that like really fucking far away from your home? Also are you crying? You sound like you're crying. Are you okay mate? Please talk to me."

Not being able to stop yourself a sob left your mouth. When you tried to open your mouth again to answer him just more sobs came out.

"Fuck shit okay i'll drive to you. Stay out of the rain and try to get somewhere warmer. I don't want you getting fucking sick. Just go to the toilets or something okay. I'll be there as fast as possible. Stay on the ca-"

It broke off before he could finish. Confused you looked down through blurry vision at your phone clutched in your hands. The screen was black. Frustrated you shoved your phone back into the front pocket of your hoodie.

"Of course the battery had to go empty at this exact time."

Mumbling to yourself you pulled the hood over your head before you went back into the rain to get somewhere warmer. Hoping that your memory for once wasn't gonna betray you you started to walk in the direction where you remember the toilets being.

Thankfully there was a single gender neutral bathroom stall so you don't have to worry about someone coming in and hearing you crying.

Pushing down the handle you stepped into the bathroom. It was bigger than a normal stall would be because it was also for disabled people. The floor looked like it was cleaned not long ago. There was some graffiti next to the door looking like someone tried to scrub it off but gave up.

Stepping to the sink you glanced up into the mirror to see how much of a mess you looked like.

There were obvious marks of a hand on your neck from where he choked you. It may have been only for a few seconds but it was still strong enough to make you shiver just from thinking back to it. Some dried blood that trickled down your forehead from where the green glass beer bottle crashed into your head. If you looked long enough you could see a fading handprint at your left cheek.

"Damn i look like a fucking mess."

Turning on the sink you looked down at your hands. There was some blood on your fingers from when you wiped away the blood running from your nose. Holding them under the water you immediately flinched away feeling how cold it was.

Taking a deep breath you put them under the stream again and started washing the blood away from your hands away first. Forming them to bowl you held them under the water. Knowing this is not going to feel great you splashed it on your face. Immediately regretting your decision you gasped for air.

Feeling it slowly running down your face you took some papers and dried the remaining water and blood off of your face. After throwing them in the trash can you looked back up into the mirror. Even without the scabs and dirt you still looked like a mess. With a sigh leaving your mouth you made your way over to the toilet and sat down on the closed seat. About to put your head in your hands you jumped when you suddenly heard a voice from outside the door.

Slowly starting to recognise the voice you quickly stood up.

"Da- Phil? Is that you?"

Raising your voice only a little to avoid other people other than him hearing it you stepped closer to do the door to listen more closely.

"Yeah it's me, i'm here now. Can you open the door mate? I wanna make sure you're safe."

Hesitating for a moment you slowly wrapped your fingers around the door handle. Carefully opening it you stared down at the ground making your hair shadow your face in hopes of hiding how much of a mess you are or maybe because you weren't able to look him in the eyes, too ashamed to let him see you in this state.

"Can you please look up at me?"

Tears started forming in the corners of your eyes when you looked up at him. You were surprised at seeing how much worry and concerned was showing on his face but also at how shocked he looked.

"Who . . . who did this to you?"

Not being able to hold it back any longer sobs started leaving your mouth. Tears started spilling when you felt Phil wrap his arms around you and pulled you in a tight embrace. Gripping the back of his shirt you felt him putting his hand against the back of your head. He pushed your head against his chest making your tears soak up the fabric of his shirt but he could care less right now.

"Take your time don't worry. I'm here for you and i promise i won't let go."

Slowly starting to calm down again, eyes dry from crying so much you still didn't wanna let go. This is the most comfort you ever felt in your entire life you were sure. But knowing you sadly couldn't stay like this forever you carefully pulled your arms back and stepped back a little. You tried wiping away the remaining tears but it only resulted in your cheeks getting even more wet from your rain soaked hoodie sleeves.

"Let's first get you to somewhere warm and safe. My house is closer so i'll just drive to my place if that's alright with you mate."

Seeing you nod was enough was enough of a response for him so he wrapped his arm around your shoulder and started walking to the exist. Or at least you thought it was in that direction. You don't really remember anything from before you went in the bathroom stall leading to you realising you probably dissociated the whole way here. Probably better that way.

After a while of just trusting Phil with where you two were going you stopped next to what you presumed was his car. Stepping in front of you he opened the door of the passenger seat and let you get in. Closing the car door you immediately relaxed feeling the warmth around you.

When he got in he quickly glanced over making sure you were okay before he started driving. You didn't really remember much from the car ride besides him asking you if you were okay every other 5 minutes to which you always responded with a small nod. Knowing at some point he's gonna want a better response from you but for now that was enough to satisfy him thankfully.

Slowly coming back to the real world you looked out of the window to your left and saw Phil's house. You don't really remember much from when you were here the last time one of the things that was still in your memory that it was bigger than you expected. But it felt comfortable and like there was put a lot of thought and detail into his home.

Jumping a little in surprise at Phil opening the car door he tried to help you out of the car but deciding to ignore him you started to get up.

"For fucks sake just let me help you you stubborn child."

A sigh of annoyance left you but you took his hand and let him take you out of the car.

"I'm gonna be honest Da- Phil i thought i was the one who was going to have to help you out of the car since you're becoming so old-"

"Shut!"

A giggle left you making him give you an obviously joking annoyed look. God you missed these interactions so much. Not like you two stopped having them they just felt a lot better in person rather than over discord or when calling.

Letting him walk to the door you stepped under the roof and waited for him to open it. Glancing behind you one last time you saw that the rain was still going strong but now you wouldn't have to worry about it anymore. Cautiously you stepped into the warmth of what you would love to call home and let Phil close the door.

Bending down you took off your wet shoes. A feeling of disgust went through you feeling how soaked your socks were. Standing up straight again you looked around confused because you didn't see Phil anymore. Immediately panic started rising in you. Feeling your heartbeat getting faster you quickly stepped further inside.

"Phil?!"

Trying your best to hide the anxiousness you heard the quick footsteps of a concerned Phil letting you know you failed miserably at it.

"You okay? What's wrong? What happened i was just getting dry and more comfortable clothes for you."

Slowly tears started forming and when you tried to speak your voice cracked.

"I- I don't know. I just thought maybe maybe you left because i-"

Noticing you starting to panic he put his hand under your chin making you look up at him.

"I am not going to leave you. I am not going to hurt you. No matter what i will stay with you. If you need something i will be there to help you. If you're ever sad i'm there to comfort you. No matter how long you cry i won't let you go until you're feeling better."

Not knowing what to do you rubbed away the tears that were about to fall.

"Thank you. Thank you so much Da- Phil-"

"Don't worry you can call me dad."

Registering his words the corners of your mouth went up forming a smile.

"Now come on. Here are better clothes to wear. Don't want you getting sick."

Masterlist

[nickynop]

The Wake up (Chapter 2)

Lungs surged open, big, panicked breaths taking over as you felt your body arch in response to adrenaline rushing through you like a flash flood. Immediately your heart was speeding up an felt like it could beat itself out of you. Anymore panic and you might of have screamed loud enough to make the guard outside have to check on you. Instead of a scream through, you let a low, sad groan, it echoing through the room you were kept in. Your body started slowly curling in on itself, hands sliding down to grip your pant legs, just praying the feeling would go away soon. 'Why. Why out of all the decisions did I make the worst one.' you whispered, throat painfully dry from the cold air around you.

Out of everything that has happened, and is still happening, that memory is one of the hardest for you to relive. You hated yourself for that moment, hated the potential it had. Because maybe if you had just done things differently, like if you had pretended to be asleep until you arrived then caught them by surprise. Or perhaps if instead of trying to wake Eric up you just jumped up and charged them, stealing their guns and making the driver do what you wanted.

Maybe if you had just done anything other than what you did, you and Eric would be free right now, back home having the hardest thing in the day to day being the recruit's that smart off the most. It haunted you, that idea, of how you could have saved you both. But despite the regret that practically lived in your stomach, what's done is done. You have to live with that truth.

God, you remembered when you woke up the second time, it had been the first time you saw this room, it was so dark, and cold, so so cold. The cold is what woke you up actually, the chill reaching your bones and pulling you from your unconscious state. Not much has changed there, because they, whoever they are, like keep you cold and in the dark. You honestly didn't know why, or what the point was, maybe just to make things that much harder for you, maybe to make you get a headache went you went from the dark to aggressive florescent lights, you might not ever know.

-- And the fear, oh god the fear that had flooded you the second you woke up; it was so strong it had kept you froze in place. Probably 15 minutes you had let yourself lay there, and it took most of that time to notice things like your hands were unbound now, and your mouth uncovered, head still felt like shit but that wasn't a surprise.

It took a lot of counting breaths and time but once you had calmed down you told yourself it was time to look around. Time to take your room in for the first time. You tried turning your head slowly, hoping to not make the pain worse. Once your head was up you started looking around, the room was bare and gray, it looked like it was all concrete, explain why everything was so cold. You twisted your head around, eyes settling on the corner of the room behind you. You hadn't expected to see a figure hunched over, leaning against the wall, head dipped low, it was startling. Before you could even really think your legs started trying to push themselves away from whoever was there. Your heart was racing again, back about to hit the wall. Then the figure slowly raised its head. Only when it did, did you stop pushing away.

Oh my god, it was Eric. You couldn't believe how much worse he looked, he was still covered in blood, but bruises were really starting to form on his face and arms. Honestly if you hadn't spent the previous morning with him, you weren't sure recognizing him would have been easy at all. He, for lack of a better term, looked like shit. And for a while you just looked at him, getting used to it, to the beat up and bloodied him. Once you had taken some, you decided to try and gage how he was. Mentally at least. Because physically well, physically was pretty obvious. There was one problem with trying to do that though.

He had a completely unreadable expression on his face, it wasn't sad, happy, scared, mad, not even stressed. Completely blank like nothing was happening in his head, it kind of freaked you out to be honest. He slowly moved his eyes to you, looking at each other for just a moment more before he spoke "Finally awake." Was all he said, and besides the natural sternness of his voice, not even that had any emotion. "Where are we?". A small sigh left him, "How the hell should I know? I've been passed out for lord knows how fucking long." That took you back, I mean you didn't expect him to know but you also didn't expect that answer. It made you feel sad, and dumb for asking such an obvious question to get such a snarky reply. "... How's your head?" you asked, hoping to draw attention away from the previous.

He shrugged, slowly putting a hand up to of feel it "Hurts like a bitch. Your's?", "Not much better." you replied, almost as if the pain heard you talking about it, it decided to make itself more present. That alone made sure you didn't touch yours like he had his. Probably had a goose egg the size of a softball at this point. You heard a sigh from him as he dropped his arm back down "Think you'll be fight worthy?" were the next set of words he said.

"Uhhhh, fight worthy? Just who are you planning to fight? We're trapped if you hadn't noticed.", you just woke up with a probable concussion. He looked like he stepped out of a war zone and yet he's talking about fighting? You were just lucky neither of you had passed back out yet.

What had been an expressionless face turned into a mildly annoyed one. "How about whoever brought us here. They'll be back to try and get whatever they want from us. That's who we fight, now you either are ready or you're not. Which is it rookie?". You simply gaped at him, sure dauntless were supposed to be fearless but you two got your ass whooped on your own territory. Now he wants to try again but in theirs? He really was as headstrong as everyone said.

"If you ever want to be a leader, then you have to be ready to fight anywhere, anytime, no giving up. That's what we do." his voice was completely in trainer mode now. Honestly if it wasn't for his current physical state, it would be easy to be intimidated. But he was right, that is what you're taught as a new recruit, you're the warrior faction. You fight till you win or die.

You also knew that with or without you he would be fighting as soon as he got the chance. "Fine, I'll fight. But if you don't remember, we got our asses handed to us last time. Whoever those guys were, they weren't newbies, they knew exactly what they were doing. How are we supposed to win?" "We make a plan." A plan, right. Plan plan plan. "You're right, last time we couldn't beat them, they caught us completely off guard, so this time. We do the same to them." "But they know we're her-" "They don't know we're awake." he said this while looking at the giant iron door, "If they did know, they would have already been in here."

You couldn't help but look at the door too. "Get back in the spot you woke up from, rest. When they come to check on us, pretend to be asleep still, and when they are in here. Jump them." That plan was basic, and risky. But you also couldn't think of a better one. You both could hide on either side of the door and try to rush them, but the moment they wouldn't see you guys they would be on guard.

And there is no chance of busting through that door on y'alls own. Not even if you both were in perfect shape, that is a solid door, it's not going anywhere. Sigh. This would be difficult to say the least. You turned your head back to him as you simply stated "Alright." he gave a single nod in reply, watching as you scooted forward back into the place you were. ''

You were about to go over what happened next when a creeking sound pulled you out of your thoughts, you didn't move though, at least not until you heard coughing. Your body shot up immediately and turning towards the sound. In the room were those two figures you had come to recognize so well. They both were walking more into room, the two holding a shaking, half conscious Eric. They didn't even look your way, they just, threw him on the floor mumbling something about "a worthless waste of time."

You spit in their direction as they left the room and ran to eric as soon as they closed the door, your stomach twisting seeing his state. His eyes were closed, sweat was beaded on his entire body. On top of that he was shaking and sometimes violently twitching, his muscles in some form of shock. 'Fuck Eric, what did they do to you?' you thought to yourself, gently lifting his head and setting it on your leg, trying to get his eyes to open to see if you could keep him awake enough to tell you what happened.

All you got were glazed eyes that would roll whenever he twitched. This was one of the worst you had ever seen him, they were getting less careful. "Shit, Eric, can you hear me? Please say something if you can.". what you got was nothing. He was too far gone right now, and even if he could hear you, he probably wouldn't be able to reply. You sighed, stomach feeling queasy as you lifted him up and pulled him closer. Trying to give his un-resting body some comfort, which unfortunately was all that could be done.

[shig-a-shig-ah]

@potatoes-is-are-food​  @kugutsuu​ great minds think alike! 

» pairing: shigaraki tomura x gn!reader

» cw: claustrophobia, I guess? Otherwise this is fluff fluff fluff. 

» a/n: Tato also wanted gloves, so gloves there be. 

» wc: 1k

» prompts: “You can hold my hand.” / “It’s okay to be afraid sometimes.” 

Trapped in a basement with your boss is the last place you want to be, for so, so many reasons.

There's the trapped part, of course, which is less than desirable all on its own and for obvious reasons. Neither of you had expected part of the roof to cave in as you were exploring the basement of this abandoned building, scouting it out in the hopes of finding someplace for the League to lay low for a few weeks. And Shigaraki could decay away some of the rubble, but without knowing just what the situation looks like on the other side, he'd decided it was better to wait rather than risk the entire thing collapsing inward onto him with one wrong touch. Kurogiri and the others know where you are, after all, and even though there's no cell service in this pit of a basement, the warp villain will be able to easily extract you once he realizes something is amiss and sends someone to investigate.

It's a sensible decision on Shigaraki's part. Sensible, but awful—for you at least. Because the second reason you really, really don't want to be trapped in a  basement with your boss is that you are, generally speaking, very much not a fan of dark, enclosed spaces.

And the basement is very, very dark, and not exactly roomy. It’s just large enough that your phone light helps some, but doesn’t beat back the inky blackness in its entirety. And Shigaraki, practical as ever, had turned off the flashlight on his own phone the moment he decided it was better to wait this out.

Which brings you to the third reason this is the last situation you want to be in: it's embarrassing enough to be a grown adult who's scared of of things like this without Shigaraki of all people finding out about it.

The universe, however, is apparently trying to actively punish you for something (the villainy, maybe?) because just as you're fretting over that possibility, your phone battery dies and your plunged into true black. It has panic blooming in your chest almost immediately, your teeth sinking into your lower lip in a desperate bid to bite back a whimper. You lean back against the wall, try to focus on the firmness of the concrete you're currently sitting on, and the coolness of the air on your skin, anything but your anxiety. Despite those efforts to maintain your composure, however, Shigaraki—perceptive as ever—seems to immediately notice something is amiss.

"Why are you breathing weird?" he asks, his words a confused huff. It's only then you realize you'd started sucking in long, slow breaths, in through your nose and out through mouth, trying to contain your nerves so that he wouldn't notice them.

Instead you'd given yourself away.

You know sound meek, your voice quivering slightly, when you mumble, "It's nothing." 

You'd hoped he would leave it alone, drop the subject, but of course he doesn't. There's only a long silence filled with the sound of nails dragging over skin, and then an incredulous scoff. "Are you scared?"

There's no point lying about it now, shrewd as he is. Any denials you offered would be too feeble to be convincing; you opt for defensiveness instead.

"So what if I am? It's okay to be afraid sometimes," you snap.

You don't expect any sympathy. Shigaraki isn't particularly gentle or tactful, though the fact that he's lacking in those qualities doesn't much bother you. He's other things that you find admirable—smart, strong, a good leader.

Handsome.

So, you don't expect taunts, necessarily, but you don't any coddling either. It's surprising when you hear a faint shuffling next to you, and then feel Shigaraki's shoulder brushing up against your own before he makes an unexpected offer.

"You can hold my hand," he mumbles, sounding more uncertain of himself than you've ever heard. "If you want."

It’s actually enough to distract you from your fear for a moment. You wouldn't have thought he'd bother to try and make you feel better at all, and you certainly wouldn't have expected him to offer something like that, or even realize it might make you feel better.

"Really?" you ask. You feel suddenly shy, and it's not just self-consciousness about your childish phobia. The two of you have never really touched, which might not bother you now if it weren't for the fact that you have definitely thought about it, more than you probably should have in the month or so since you joined the League. Wondering what that scarred, pale skin would feel like under your fingers, or what those calloused hands might feel like touching you.

And now you suppose you're going to find out, because he grumbles, "Yeah, really." It's followed by the sounds of his fingers digging again at his neck.

"Okay," you say quickly.

"Hold on." There's more rustling sounds beside you, followed by a hand groping tentatively at your arm and then tracing a path blindly downward, long fingers interlacing with your own. "Is that okay?"

You're not sure why he's asking, or why it wouldn't be, but you hum an affirmative all the same. You're half-distracted by the feel of his hand in yours, and the fact that it feels funny—wrong somehow. After another moment and adjusting your grip slightly, you realize why feels so strange—he's wearing a glove. The fabric is soft, and you let your thumb stroke hesitantly over it and along his fingers, feeling the place where two of those spindly digits remain uncovered.

"I didn't think you ever wore gloves."

He fidgets a little. "I don't, really. I only had Kurogiri pick them up a few weeks ago."

You consider that for a moment—a few weeks ago. I.e., not all that long after you joined the League. A coincidence, you think—it has to be. But that doesn't stop you from asking, tentatively, "How come?"

There's another long silence, one that feels weightier than first. Then his thumb is brushing tentatively over your hand, running along your knuckles and tracing hesitantly over you palm, sending the skin there tingling.

"Because of this."

[atticsandwitch]

Obey Me Headcannons

What they do when you have chronic pain and you get stuck. Sometimes with chronic pain, you try to move but the pain stops you and you get stuck in place. Here's how I think the characters would react.

(This mostly happens to me with my back, so that's mostly how I wrote these, though I tried to be vague)

Some angst in Solomon and Simeon's.

I might post Solomon's separately too because I actually really love how it turned out.

Lucifer

It had been quite the long day and you decided to spend a little time somewhere quiet. You head to Lucifer's study, where you can spend some time listening to music with him and reading while he finishes his paperwork for the day.

You settle in on the sofa with your book and a cup of tea, but it's difficult to get comfortable and you find yourself shifting positions more and more as the night wears on and the aches set in. Though the scratch of Lucifer's pen never stops, he doesn't fail to notice this.

Eventually you decide to head to bed, but as you go to sit up you freeze in an awkward position and gasp as a sharp pain shoots through you. Your hand reaches gingerly for the source of the pain for a little support as your eyes scrunch shut.

Lucifer is up as soon as he hears your pained voice, coat falling from his shoulders and forgotten on the floor. By the time you open your eyes, he's kneeling by your side.

"Are you alright?" He asks, not bothering to hide the concern on his face.

"It hurts..." is all you can mumble, "I can't move"

He replaces your hand with his, trying gently to soothe the pain, "Try to relax" He looks up at you through a few strands of hair that have fallen into his face and you feel an intense warmth where his hand lies on your body, followed by your muscles loosening and relaxing slowly. You sigh in relief

Satisfied that the pain has passed, at least for the moment, Lucifer gingerly scoops you into his arms and carries you upstairs to his room. He tucks you into his bed, and still leaning over you places a soft kiss to your forehead as his hair tickles your face.

"If you need anything just call for me. I'll be along shortly. Until then, get some rest" He says. As he leaves he turns out the lights and leaves the door to the study open in case you need him.

True to his word, you're barely drifting off to sleep when you feel the weight of the bed shift, and an arm pulling you close to his chest.

Mammon

Every time it happens he panics a little, even as he starts to get used to it happening.

You two had been out shopping all day, running around until you were both exhausted. As you got back to his room with all of the shopping bags, you could already feel your body stiffening up as though it could sense that the day was ending.

You sat down on his bed while he unpacked a few of the shopping bags, and let yourself fall backwards onto the soft mattress as the exhaustion started to fully set in.

"Hey, I can't find that watch I bought, is it in one of your bags?" He asks. You start to sit up, but your body freezes at an awkward angle as a pained noise escapes you and you try to support yourself with one hand on the mattress, the other on your back where it feels like you're being stabbed.

The noise startles Mammon, and he drops what he's holding as his head whips in your direction, "What-!? MC, are ya okay? What's'a matter?!" It feels like someone put his heart in a vice grip and crushed it when he sees the pained expression on your face and he rushes to your side.

"I'm stuck!"

"Whaddaya mean stuck?!" No one told him this happens to humans! His hands hover near you for a moment, afraid to touch you in case he makes it worse.

"Hurts... Can't move"

"Okay... uhhh. here!" he puts a hand on your back and tries to help you sit up but you yelp again and shake your head. "A-Ahh! So-sorry MC! Here, just lean on me then" Feeling guilty and sad for his human he sits down and wraps his arm fully around you, to support your weight until the pain starts to subside, "Don't worry, Mammon's here. I've got you, so just relax" His face reddens further as you grip his shirt, and his heart swells as you lean into his touch, relying on him. Trusting him. Needing him. He'd stay like this forever if he had to, but soon you move tentatively, testing whether the pain has subsided enough for you to move again.

His strong arms support you, helping you lay down and get comfortable in his bed. He's not letting you go anywhere or do anything else tonight.

"Geez, don't push yourself so hard. Tell me next time before ya over do it, okay?" He sighs, looking down at you with a troubled expression before taking his jacket off and climbing in next to you.

Leviathan

You two were having one of your gaming / anime binge nights and you had been sitting in the same position for far too long, so you might've guessed that this would end up happening. When you finally try to move to change positions, you get stuck, with a soft noise of pain that startles Levi.

"Ah!"

"Wh-What was that?!" Startled, His face turns bright red. He can't tell you what it sounded like, but when he sees the look on your face his turns redder in embarrassment at where his mind had gone.

"I'll be fine in a minute... I just... can't move" the pain in your voice is obvious and his heart shatters.

"What can I- Is there anything I can-?" He's not sure what to do or say, but he knows he wants to help, and yet his heart sinks when you shake your head. He feels so useless.

"I just have to wait it out" You try to move again, but it brings tears to your eyes as you gasp a second time. All he wants to do is protect you, to be your hero, but how can he protect you from your own body?

He hesitantly reaches out, half pulling back for a split second before resting a tentative hand on your back and trying to rub calming circles there.

"I... think I have a heating pad somewhere?" He offers.

"That would be great"

"Okay" He doesn't move to go get it until you're able to move on your own again. He couldn't bring himself to leave your side.

"Alright, I have a few other things that might help too" He returns with a bag he'd loaded with supplies, "Let's go to your room, MC"

He knows the bed-tub probably isn't the best place for you to properly rest in, and he also knows that there's really no place like your own room when you're not feeling well. So, he helps you limp to your room and into bed with his Ruri-chan heating pad, supporting you the whole way and blushing furiously. Then, he puts on an anime on your tv so the two of you can continue your binge more comfortably.

He pulls you in close, and with one hand, tilts your head to lean on his chest, still blushing at his own boldness.

Satan

He's in the library at the House of Lamentation, sitting on one of the couches reading when he hears a sharp intake of breath and a quiet whine. He puts down his book and gets up to investigate, where he finds you at one of the tables, half standing from your seat, but unmoving.

He quickly approaches you, noting the look of pain on your face, "MC, what's wrong?" He asks, sliding an arm around your waist to help support you. Without much thought he tries to help lift you into a standing position, but you moan in pain again and he stops immediately, eyes widening.

"I can't-! I can't move" You gasp, "It hurts"

Briefly his face reddens at the realization that the two of you are stuck like this for a little while, but his worry overshadows anything else.

"I'll be okay in a minute" You try to assure him, but the way your voice sounds is anything but reassuring. He just nods, prepared to hold you for as long as it takes. He looks down into your face with concern in his eyes.

"What brought this on?" He asks.

"It just happens some times. I guess I pushed myself too hard today, and my body just locks up" You explain. He nods, already mentally trying to figure out the best way to look up a phenomenon like this to try to calm his racing heart.

Eventually you try to move again, and he helps you stand up.

"You should rest, now. Let's get you back to your room to lie down" He says, pulling one of your arms over his shoulder and supporting your weight, one arm still around your waist as he walks you there. He takes it slow, and helps you into bed, making sure you're comfortable. He leaves for a little while but returns with a few books, some tea, and a bottle from the medicine cabinet for you.

"Do you mind if I read with you for a while?" He can't bring himself to leave your side just yet, though he knows you need some rest. He wants to be there in case you need anything. He'll likely be there until you fall asleep, possibly falling asleep next to you as well.

Amodeous

You two spent nearly an entire day doing Devilgram photoshoots, and you had no idea how exhausting and painful it was to be doing modeling poses for so long. Your muscles were burning after thirty minutes, but obviously Asmo wouldn't be satisfied with such a short photoshoot.

He'd noticed that you were getting tired, so the two of you were heading back to the House of Lamentation. He thought it would be romantic to stop at the park for a rest, and maybe a few candid Devilgram shots, and so he lead you to a nearby bench.

"Smile!" He pulls out his phone, and as you turn to lean into him, you jolt in pain as your body freezes awkwardly and you grab his thigh for support.

"MC! So forward today~! You know I lov-" He stops as he looks into your face, scrunched unpleasantly in pain, "Oh, dear! Are you alright?"

"It hurts..." You whine, tears prickling at your vision. He gives you a heartbroken look before sliding an arm around you to support you, and leaning over you to block you from anyone else's view. He brings his other hand to your face to stroke your cheek with his thumb and wipe away your tears. It tugs at his heart when one of your hands reaches up and grips his shirt for more support.

He peppers your face with soft, comforting kisses, assuring you that he's there for you, "Shhh, just focus on me, okay? I'm right here" he whispers.

Once you're ready to move again, he encourages you to put your arms around him so he can help you the rest of the way home, high key loving the excuse to have you touching him. The rest of the walk back is filled with promises of relaxing baths and massages. He is going to take such good care of you tonight.

Beelzebub

The two of you had spent the day on a hiking trail that Beel had been excited to check out, and really wanted to share the experience with you. However you felt about hiking, you did not expect the trail to be so intense.

Beel checked in with you regularly, making sure you were doing alright, but he had been so excited about this trail that you were determined to make it through. Unfortunately this meant that by the time the two of you made it to the top you'd already pushed yourself too hard.

You supported yourself with one arm against a tree, breathing heavily as Beel happily took a look at the scenery from where the two of you stood. You try to straighten up and move to join him closer to the edge of the cliff where he stood, but you froze.

His head whips around when he hears you whine in pain, and he's at your side in a second, "Are you okay?"

"I'm stuck"

"Stuck?" His eyes widen, hands hovering near you, unsure what to do.

"I overdid it" You say with an apologetic look, "It hurts to move"

"I'm sorry" He says sadly, moving closer, "Where does it hurt?"

You slowly move your arm to point to the locked up portion of your lower back, and he kneels behind you, "Will it hurt if I touch you?" He asks tentatively. When you give him permission you feel his strong hands begin gently rubbing the sore muscles there. The way his thumbs and palms massage your back feels so good you can't help but sigh, and you blush a little as you feel how big his hands really are. He's slow and gentle, and has a knack for finding all of the knotted muscles, and he doesn't stop until you give him the signal that you're feeling better.

Once you're able to move again you turn around to thank him and see a hint of pink dusting his cheeks as he looks up at you, "I'll carry you back. Here" He turns on his knees, offering you his back.

"Are you sure?" You ask guiltily, remembering the arduous trail.

"Yea!" He smiles over his shoulder at you, "You should take it easy, and it'll be a great work out for me too"

You feed him trail snacks as he happily carries you all the way back to the House of Lamentation. He'll run you a bath and get some food together for the two of you and make sure you're resting comfortably before he goes and gets cleaned up himself.

Belphegor

It had been a long day and you were looking forward to getting home and laying down. Of course you and Belphie are nap buddies, and today you can't think of anything better than a big bed full of soft pillows and blankets, so you head off to find him.

He's in the attic today, and your body doesn't particularly want to climb all of the stairs, but neither of you can help but smile when you see each other. He greets you with a laugh as you flop down in bed next to him, your greeting muffled in pillows.

"Aww, what's the matter?" He laughs, and the little shit begins tickling you so he can see your smile. And at first you do. You're laughing and twitching, trying to escape his touch, when suddenly your body jerks and you moan in pain. Belphie immediately pulls away in shock, seeing you frozen at an awkward angle, face scrunched up in a heartbreaking expression.

"Are you okay? Did I hurt you?" He's afraid to touch you now, feeling guilty. Unwanted images of the last time he hurt you surfacing in his mind.

"Hurts to move..." You whine, "I'll be okay... in a few minutes" You try to breathe but even that hurts your stiff body in this position. He leans back over you and slowly reaches out to stroke your hair.

"Try to relax" He says softly, feeling quite helpless and unsure of what else to do. So, he stays like that, stroking your hair and giving you gentle, comforting caresses as he encourages you to breathe and relax. He'll kiss your forehead and help you get more comfortable once you can move again before showering you with more kisses.

He'll curl up next to you and hold you close for the rest of the night, still patting your head, and running his hands over your arms or sides or wherever he can reach to comfort you and let you know he's there. He'll help you fall asleep quickly and makes sure you have good dreams tonight.

Diavolo

You've been bent over your Devildom History paper for hours, and you knew you needed a break but you were nowhere near done. You were working on it at the castle, because you thought that there couldn't be a better place to go for references than somewhere so central to Devildom history and Diavolo was happy to open his home to you. Diavolo was working on his own paperwork nearby in case you had any questions, and as an excuse to allow himself to be distracted.

You stood to stretch, but immediately regretted it. As soon as your back straightened, you collapsed forward to support yourself with your fists balled on the table before you, arms rigid and body trembling with pain.

You don't even hear him get up, but he's at your side almost instantly, "MC! What happened, are you alright?" Worry clear in his tone. He thinks his heart may stop as it stutters in his chest.

You try to straighten again, but whine in pain, body forcing you to stay put, "I'm stuck"

"Stuck?" He's surprised, confused, and concerned in equal measures. He didn't know humans could get 'stuck,' and what's more, it's breaking his heart to see the pain you're in.

"I think I sat in a bad position for too long... It hurts to move"

"I see. It hurts... here?" He asks, placing a heavy hand gently on your back. When you nod you feel a soothing, tingling sensation spread out from where his hand lay. He rubs your back in comforting circles as the magic spreads from nerve ending to nerve ending and slowly, you feel your body start to relax and the pain subside.

Standing hesitantly, you test your body, and find only the remnants of a dull ache as you straighten fully.

"You've worked hard today," He looks down at you with kind, sad eyes, "I think it's time for some rest and a reward!" One hand still against your back, he bends down and places the other behind your knees, picking you up slowly so as not to jostle you too much and cause your muscles to tense again. "How does dinner in bed sound? You can stay here tonight"

Barbatos

It had already been a long day of chasing the brothers around and participating in their antics, and it was barely past lunch. You were leaning against a nearby wall for support when Barbatos walked by.

"Ah, MC! I was preparing to take a walk in the gardens, care to join me?" He asks with a pleasant smile. A relaxing walk sounded like just the thing you needed. You nodded with a smile and moved to step away from the wall only to wince, and fall back against it for support.

His eyes widen, "Mc? Are you quite alright?" He steps nearer, worry plain in his usually composed features. He extends a steadying hand to you, which you gladly accept.

"I'll be okay..." You gasp, "It hurts to move, but it'll pass"

"I see. Allow me to support you" Gently, he wraps his other arm around you, taking your weight easily. You wince again as you lean away from the wall and into his embrace and he feels a harsh tug at his heart as you let out a small whine. "I apologize, MC. I did not realize you were feeling unwell today. If there is any way I can be of assistance, please tell me"

"I appreciate you," He blushes a little at your words, "I just need a little rest. It's been a long day" you continue.

"In that case, I'm happy to stay like this as long as you need. I must say it does feel nice to be able to be this close" He admits, looking into your eyes with a soft expression.

Once the pain begins to fade, you let him know. He slowly helps you shift your weight back. You still limp a little as you take a few hesitant steps, but he never lets you go.

"Shall I escort you home? I could call a car" He offers.

"I think I'd like to take that walk with you" You smile.

"If you are sure, then we shall take it slow" He can't help but return your smile. He remains quite attentive as he supports you along the walk. One arm remains around you even after your walk returns to normal and you assure him the pain has gone. He just can't bring himself to let you go, "I'll stay by your side as long as you'll allow me to"

Solomon

Solomon had invited you to Purgatory Hall to work on an experiment with him. It had been a long day, but you were looking forward to spending some time with him even if you were tired. You sat next to him as he worked, getting completely wrapped up in the experiment, as he often tended to.

Simeon and Luke were out for the evening, so it was quiet, particularly compared to the House of Lamentation, and it afforded you some time to relax. Today was one of those days where there wasn't much for you to help with, which your achy body wasn't going to complain about, but you still found Solomon's company soothing and enjoyed watching him work.

"Do you mind if I go grab a drink real quick?" You say, standing from your spot beside him and heading to the door.

"Sure" He responds absently. You leave and after a few moments he realizes something, and calls out to you from his desk without looking up, "Be careful though, some of my other experiments are in th-"

His voice dies in his throat when he hears your gasp of pain, immediately followed by the shattering of glass on tile. He stands so quickly he knocks over his chair and stumbles over it as he runs toward the kitchen, long fingertips pushing his upper body away from the floor as he struggles not to lose his momentum.

In seconds he's in the kitchen, noting the clear liquid pooling around the shards of glass on the floor and the way you're supporting yourself on the counter, unable to stand up fully. He does a mental inventory of the unlabeled experiments in the refrigerator and comes up short. He can't remember which one that was, but he knows any of those unfinished potions could mean a painful demise.

He's standing in front of you without even realizing he had crossed the kitchen, gripping your upper arms and staring into your face with wide, worried eyes.

"What did it taste like? How do you feel?" His words are rushed with panic.

"What?" You're confused, but the pain in your voice makes him feel like the ground might slip out from under his feet.

He swallows past the lump in his throat, "I need to figure out what you drank so I can counteract the effects! Please-" The plea in his voice gripped your heart and something he once told you floated into your mind uninvited; 'I don't think I could remain calm if I lost you.'

"It was water" You assure him. He looses a deep sigh of relief as the panic begins to subside at the realization that he hadn't poisoned you, and is suddenly aware of how fast his heart is beating. He has to stop himself from hugging you, realizing with new worry that you still looked like you were in pain.

"Then what...?" He searches your face for answers.

"I'll be okay in a few minutes... I'm just stuck"

"..." He blinks a few times, "Stuck?"

"It hurts... I can't move" You try to breathe an explanation. He looks so worried that you try to move again to show him you're alright, but it's too soon. You wince and freeze again with a small whine, failing to make him feel any better as you'd intended to.

His expression shifts from worry to sadness. "I might be able to help. If you'd like, I could offer a temporary magical solution?" He asks.

"Please"

One word from you and his heart skips a beat. He rolls up his sleeves and moves to stand at your side where he can reach behind you. He rests a large hand on your back, eyes never leaving your face, and you feel something soothing and cool move through your muscles, relaxing them and easing the pain. Soon you're able to stand again without supporting yourself on the counter.

"Feeling any better?" He asks, still looking concerned.

You look into his eyes, "So much better. Thank you," You look down at the floor, "The glass! I'm sorry..." You sigh, looking for something to clean it up with.

He chuckles, "I don't give a damn about the glass, MC" with a wave of his hand the liquid evaporates and the shards dissolve into a glittering dust that is carried away on an otherwise imperceptible breeze.

You give a somewhat embarrassed smile, "And... I'm sorry I scared you"

It's his turn to look embarrassed, "No" He shakes his head, "I'm just happy you're alright. I don't know how I'd live with myself if I'd... If I'd lost you like that," 'If I'd killed you,' he's unable to even vocalize the fear that had opened a yawning hole in his heart just moments ago.

He sets his experiment aside and the two of you spend the rest of the night together enjoying each others' company.

Simeon

Luke had suggested another exchange student sleepover at Purgatory Hall, no demons allowed!

The four of you always had such fun with these sleepovers, playing games, baking, watching movies, and just spending time together that it became something of a regular thing. It was almost a tradition. Simeon loved the way you played with Luke, how your smile lit up the room, and just getting to spend time with you. Though it was rarely time spent alone together, he still cherished it and would often find ways to get closer to you; holding your hand under the table, partnering with you in a game, leaning against you as the two of you giggled at a funny movie, sleeping next to you on the common room floor when it was time to go to bed.

It was long since lights out, and though you and Simeon stayed up talking well past the time when the others had fallen asleep, you'd both since gone quiet and you assumed that he'd drifted off as well.

You moved to get more comfortable, and a surge of pain caught you by surprise, a quiet moan escaping your lips as you froze, half held up by one elbow.

"MC...?" Simeon's voice in the dark followed by the sound of rustling fabric as you sense him moving closer to you "Are you alright?" He whispers. You can feel his breath on your skin. You nod, both pairs of eyes having long since adjusted to the dark.

"I'm stuck" You whisper back, pain evident in your voice even at such a low volume, "It hurts to move...!" Even in the dark you can see the look of concern on his handsome face, and he can see the tears brimming in your eyes. He slides even closer to you until you're hip to hip.

You look up into his eyes as he leans over you, "Here," He slips an arm under you to support your weight and holds you, "Relax, I've got you" He says, hair falling into his face as he looks down at you in his arms. His normally cheerful face is uncharacteristically serious.

Humans are fragile, mortal creatures with short lives. He knows this, he's always known this but... This is perhaps the first time that you're mortality has really hit him. And it hits him hard.

His wings appear behind him, and wrap around the two of you. They radiate warmth as he tries to embrace you with his whole being, but they also serve to further remind him of the distance between the two of you. How different he is from you. The rules he's supposed to follow, though their rules were never going to stop him. He can't help but feel angry at the unfairness of it all for a moment.

He'd always thought he'd understood why the brothers fell for their sister, but in this moment everything became so much clearer, and now he felt like he understood Lilith too. Why she risked her life and fell to help a sick human. And he realized, that if he'd known then what he knew now, he happily would have fought and fallen for her too. Seeing you so fragile, in his arms, he vows to himself to protect you no matter what it would cost him.

The two of you stay wrapped in his wings in silence for a long time. Even after the pain subsides, he can't bring himself to let you go. You reach up to caress his face, and he leans his cheek into your palm, allowing your touch to soothe his worries away. Eventually the two of you fall asleep wrapped up in each other.

Luke and Solomon are surprised at the sight the next morning; You curled against Simeon's chest, and Simeon's wings still wrapped around the two of you. They both secretly snap pictures, and their excited 'Awwww!'s and teasing eventually wake the both of you.

[suzukiblu]

About 3k of handmaiden!Anakin for @thisarenotarealblog. Bit of a timeskip from where we last left off this time, so we're writing a bit out of order right now.

And a read-more, of course!

--

Obi-Wan has no idea why he's at this party, but he is. It was the Supreme Chancellor's idea, certainly. Usually the Supreme Chancellor is to blame in these situations. Obi-Wan appreciates the man's efforts, but not in this kind of thing.

“Enjoy yourself, Obi-Wan. How often do you take a break?” Palpatine says with a smile, handing him a glass of something definitely alcoholic, and Obi-Wan can’t really argue with that.

He doesn't take breaks, though.

"If you say so, Supreme Chancellor," he says, taking a sip of the drink. It is definitely alcoholic. Palpatine looks amused.

"I do," he says. "Relax. You don't have any responsibilities tonight."

Obi-Wan always has responsibilities.

He drinks the drink, though, and he listens as Palpatine makes political small talk with various senators and other dignitaries, and he follows him from group to group as he does. Palpatine occasionally ropes him into the conversations, but Obi-Wan manages to escape most of them effectively enough. It's a bit of a trick to do it without offending anyone, but he pulls it off, hopefully.

Someone gives him another drink. He’s more than glad to take it.

"Hm," Palpatine says at one point, pausing in his steps between one group and another. Obi-Wan isn't sure what's distracted him, mostly because he's just been hugely distracted himself.

Anakin Skywalker just walked into the building, is the thing. Obi-Wan has no idea where he actually is, but in his defense, the ballroom is crowded and he might be a little tipsy. Or—well, perhaps a little drunk.

But he can feel Anakin Skywalker in the Force like a force, and there is no mistaking his presence. And yes, Obi-Wan is a little drunk, but not drunk enough to miss someone so obvious as that boy. It's been years, but he's never forgotten the feeling of Anakin Skywalker’s Force presence.

He's never forgotten anything about that awful, awful mission.

He exhales, steadies himself, and has another drink. Palpatine continues making his way around the room, continues all his little small talk and pleasantries, and a few minutes later they come face-to-face with Queen Amidala.

Obi-Wan reflexively looks at Padmé, not the handmaiden in the white face paint and red lipstick and golden headdress. The handmaiden is wearing layers upon layers of shining black silk and heavy gold ornaments. Padmé and the rest of her handmaidens are in robes with a simple dark gray ombre, flanking "Amidala".

Palpatine greets Amidala, not Padmé. Amidala inclines her head in reciprocation. Padmé looks at Obi-Wan, just for a moment, and he has to look anywhere else.

She brought Anakin Skywalker here, wherever he is. He can't figure out why. The boy can't be more than . . . twelve? Thirteen, maybe?

He doesn't know.

He should know. Anakin Skywalker should be here with him, in fact, wearing Jedi robes and a padawan braid, and Obi-Wan should know everything about him.

He takes another drink.

"Such a pleasure to see you again, Your Majesty," Palpatine says, smiling serenely at Amidala. Padmé’s eyebrow quirks, and one of the other handmaidens makes a subtle little gesture that Obi-Wan only catches in the reflection of another dignitary's shiny ornamental armor. "It makes me think of home."

"And you as well, Supreme Chancellor," Amidala says. Her voice is a very close match to the way Padmé’s own voice as Amidala was, actually, though that's definitely her actively imitating it. Or she might be wearing some kind of voice modulator; it's hard to tell with all the layers of silk wrapped around her throat. "Naboo misses your company."

"Perhaps one day soon I'll have time to go back for a vacation," Palpatine says, clearly amused by the idea that he'd ever have time for one. "You remember Knight Kenobi, yes?"

"Yes," Amidala says. "Of course."

She bows her head to Obi-Wan. He bows properly in return. He could say something, but all he's thinking about is the smell of burned flesh and the weight of Qui-Gon’s body in his arms.

"Naboo is still very grateful to you, Knight Kenobi," Amidala says. Padmé is watching him intently out of the corner of her eye.

"Thank you, Your Majesty," Obi-Wan says, immediately wanting to leave. He doesn't want to be anywhere near all this black silk and bad memories. Everything about Naboo is another reminder of his failures, and Queen Amidala more than most.

He's tried so hard to be a Jedi Qui-Gon would've been proud of, but always there is Qui-Gon’s own death and Anakin Skywalker’s existence.

He can never be the Jedi Qui-Gon would've wanted.

Not that Qui-Gon actually wanted him, in the end.

But that's such a selfish, miserable thought.

"I hope the party is to your tastes, Your Majesty," Palpatine says.

"Of course, Supreme Chancellor," Amidala says, inclining her head politely.

"Good, good," Palpatine says gamely. "I'd hate to see you bored."

"We are far from bored," Amidala says. The handmaidens shift very slightly behind her, but Obi-Wan misses whatever little gesture they've made this time. He's not sure if they're communicating among themselves or just fidgeting, and he's a little too drunk to trust a guess.

It doesn't matter anyway, really. He doubts they'd be saying anything he wants to know.

Or deserves to, more like.

An attendant comes up to Palpatine and murmurs in his ear, and Palpatine pauses to listen, then smiles pleasantly at Amidala and Obi-Wan.

"I may be needed, it seems. Why don't you two catch up?" he says. "I won't be but a moment."

"Supreme Chancellor—" Obi-Wan starts warily, and Palpatine pats his shoulder.

"Offer the queen a dance, Knight Kenobi," he suggests. "I'll be right back."

". . . of course, Supreme Chancellor," Obi-Wan says, too baffled by the idea to argue it. Also he's fairly sure arguing it would come across as an insult to Amidala, so . . .

Palpatine walks away with the attendant. The handmaidens rustle amongst themselves. Amidala looks momentarily bemused, but then clears her face.

"If it pleases Your Majesty," Obi-Wan says, feeling like a fool. He holds out his hand to Amidala, who looks momentarily bemused again but takes it.

And she's not a handmaiden, Obi-Wan realizes the moment their hands touch.

She's Anakin Skywalker.

Hell.

It's too damn late to do anything else, though, so he leads the other to the dance floor. Anakin Skywalker follows with perfect manners, and they step into the dance. Obi-Wan knows it, but not quite as well as Anakin apparently does. It's not too demanding, at least, which is probably for the best for the both of them—Obi-Wan is a little drunk, still, and Anakin is wearing very heavy robes and jewelry. He doubts they're the best for dancing in, though Anakin doesn't seem to mind.

Obi-Wan can feel the handmaidens' eyes on them.

He could speak to him, he supposes, but he can't imagine what he'd say.

What could he, after everything?

"Hi," Anakin says, his voice still a near-faultless match to Padmé’s. Obi-Wan still doesn't know what to say.

"Hello, Anakin," he replies, voice pitched low so as not to carry to the other dancers. Anakin doesn't seem surprised to be recognized. Well . . . Obi-Wan supposes he remembers a bit about Jedi senses, more than likely.

"Nobody calls me that anymore," Anakin says. He doesn't make a face, but Obi-Wan gets the impression that he would, if not for Amidala’s makeup.

"What do they call you, then?" he asks. It's only polite.

"Anaké," Anakin says. Obi-Wan frowns faintly. He would've expected "Ani", he supposes, or just "Skywalker".

"Anaké?" he repeats questioningly.

"Yes," Anakin—Anaké—says. "Except my mom calls me Ani."

"Your mother?" Obi-Wan says, his frown deepening. "Isn't she . . ."

"Padmé bought her," Anaké says.

"Oh." Obi-Wan feels like a fool, again.

"You missed a step," Anaké says.

"Ah—my apologies," Obi-Wan says. Anaké’s right; he did. "It's been some time since I danced."

"You're okay at it," Anaké says, with all the unforgiving bluntness of a teenager. Obi-Wan really doesn't know what he feels right now.

"Thank you," he settles for, diplomatically. He tries not to picture what Anaké might look like without the makeup, and especially not what he might look like in Jedi robes and a padawan braid. That's something that didn't happen, and never will.

Something he couldn't trust himself to let happen.

Something he wasn't strong enough to make happen.

"So you're a knight now?" Anaké says.

"Yes," Obi-Wan says.

"Not a master?" Anaké cocks his head.

"Not yet." Obi-Wan is mostly sure that wasn't meant to be an insult, but the words stab him anyway. He should've taken a padawan by now.

He should've done a lot of things.

"Sorry about your lightsaber," Anaké says.

"What?" Obi-Wan asks blankly. He's wearing his lightsaber.

"Never mind," Anaké says. "Um."

Obi-Wan is about to say something, but then he gets a bad feeling. He tightens his grip on Anaké, and Anaké stiffens.

"What's that?" Anaké says, and then the ceiling blows up. People scream. Obi-Wan throws Anaké to the floor and shields him from the debris with his body, and Anaké lets out a startled yelp. There's already a long vibroblade in his hand. Obi-Wan has no idea where he was hiding that thing.

The handmaidens swarm them. People in armor that Obi-Wan doesn't recognize drop through the ceiling with weapons drawn and start shouting demands. The panicking dignitaries are forced back towards the walls.

Obi-Wan really wishes he hadn't had those drinks earlier.

"Fall back. Don't get pinned down," Padmé says tersely. She's right at their side, a blaster drawn from somewhere within her robes. All the handmaidens are suddenly visibly armed in one way or another, but they're definitely outnumbered.

"Padmé!" Anaké says.

"We'll cover you," another handmaiden says. Obi-Wan thinks she looks familiar, but he doesn't know her name.

They fall back, and Padmé and the handmaiden lay down covering fire. Obi-Wan draws his lightsaber and flicks it on.

He really hopes Palpatine isn't in the building right now. That's not a problem they need.

The attackers shoot back. Obi-Wan dives forward and knocks back a blaster bolt before it can hit the handmaiden. She keeps firing her own blaster over his shoulder, not missing a beat. A few more of the dignitaries and attendants scream.

"Cover!" Obi-Wan barks, slashing another blaster bolt out of the air.

"You're doing fine," the handmaiden says dismissively, firing again.

"Fé!" Padmé shouts. "Fall back!"

The handmaiden sighs, but listens. Obi-Wan covers her retreat, and they fall back towards the heavy buffet tables. Someone's already kicked them over, and they drop back behind them. Fé checks her blaster. Obi-Wan feels like throwing up, which is probably the alcohol's fault.

A few other dignitaries have pulled out hopefully not ornamental weapons and there are guards in the room too, but at this point everyone's taken cover. Obi-Wan can't see or sense Palpatine, so that's some mercy.

Assuming he's not dead, anyway.

Obi-Wan steels himself. Palpatine isn't dead. He isn't even in the damn room.

One of the attackers starts shouting again. Fé takes aim at them, but Padmé puts a hand on her arm to hold her back.

The attacker is clearly under the impression that this is a hostage situation, which is awfully optimistic of them, Obi-Wan thinks. They might have more blasters, but they're nowhere near containing the situation.

"They get one chance to surrender," Padmé says. The handmaidens all nod sharply. Anaké flips his grip on his vibroblade.

Obi-Wan . . . well, he's the Jedi here, isn't he.

"Ready to wave the white flag?" he calls out to their attackers.

"You corrupt bastards will regret your crimes!" one of them yells.

"Oh, well, I could think of a couple people we could let them shoot, then," a handmaiden says.

"Very funny, Yané," Padmé says dryly.

"I was joking?"

"I don't think we should expect them to surrender," Obi-Wan says, adjusting his own grip on his lightsaber.

"Probably not," Padmé sighs.

"Maybe if we shoot a couple of them?" Anaké suggests.

"I do have the shot," Fé says.

"I'm considering it," Padmé says. Obi-Wan wonders if they're always this prepared for chaos. They seem better organized than the guards are. Definitely better than their attackers are.

"Let me take care of this," he says. "I'm the peacekeeper here, after all."

"You've been drinking," Padmé says.

"I'm still capable of negotiating," he says with as much dignity as he can muster. He's not that drunk, dammit.

This is what he gets for letting himself get talked into going to a party.

"I'm more concerned with you being capable of not getting shot or stabbed," Padmé says frankly.

"I'll be fine," Obi-Wan says.

"You almost tripped while we were dancing," Anaké says.

"I did not," Obi-Wan says indignantly. Anaké and the handmaidens give him an unconvinced look.

Teenagers. For Force's sake.

"Just try not to die, please," Padmé says.

"I haven't yet," Obi-Wan says. The attackers fire a few rounds into the ceiling. Some people scream again, which is really not helpful. He sighs, then flicks off his lightsaber.

"We'll cover you," Padmé says.

"That's very thoughtful of you, thank you," Obi-Wan says, clipping his lightsaber to his belt. He really doesn't need the assistance, but he's not going to protest a little bit of insurance either.

Now the question is, can he stand up without getting shot?

Chances may be slim, he admits to himself.

Alright, he may need the assistance. And really, he's done more dangerous things in his life.

"Let's talk, perhaps?" he calls over to the attackers.

"We don't talk to lying politicians!" one of them yells.

"Well, I'm definitely not that," Obi-Wan says.

"Padmé’s not a liar!" Anaké says with a scowl.

"Thank you for your entirely correct priorities in this situation, Anaké," Obi-Wan says dryly.

"Traitors to the people!" another attacker yells, and takes a potshot at the table they're behind. Obi-Wan is grateful that they brought out the heavy-duty furniture for this party.

"I'm going to shoot them now, my lady," Fé says.

"Let's, yes," Padmé says, and fires back at them. The other handmaidens do the same, except for Anaké, who doesn't have a blaster and looks impatient. Obi-Wan considers pulling out his lightsaber again as the attackers return fire. At least they're focused on them, and not any of the less-protected people. No one's died yet, and Obi-Wan would like to keep it that way.

It might be a fool's hope, admittedly, but it's one he lives by.

Enough people have died on his watch in his life.

The table is starting to take some serious structural damage. Obi-Wan gets his lightsaber out again after all.

"I'm going to do something a bit dangerous now," he informs Padmé and the others. "Please don't shoot me."

"No promises," Yané says.

Well, at least they're honest.

Obi-Wan sighs, then shifts into a crouch and leaps over the table with a Force push, high into the air and over the blasterfire. He flicks his lightsaber on and lands in the middle of the attackers, and things proceed logically from there. Some of them attack him; some scatter. He's a bit more worried about the scattering ones, though it looks like the handmaidens are doing their best to pick them off.

Alright, yes, he might've needed the assistance.

Obi-Wan slices his way through opponents as they do their damnedest to kill him, and blasterfire continues to rain down around them all. He's not really sure who's shooting, at this point.

Someone screams, and Obi-Wan senses terror. He jerks his head towards it and finds an attacker doing a very bad job of taking a hostage, by which he means "being viciously stabbed by Anaké".

Very viciously.

Sweet Force, Obi-Wan thinks, then narrowly avoids getting stabbed himself.

The fight is messy but brief, and it doesn't take long. Obi-Wan has been in worse ones, certainly. He does nearly get killed once or thrice, but that's just a normal day, really, and before long he's surrounded by fallen bodies. Padmé shoots past him one last time and takes out one more attacker, and then silence falls in the ballroom.

Obi-Wan rakes his hair back out of his face, trying to catch his breath. He feels . . . pained, a bit, and not because of any injuries.

He just feels Qui-Gon like a lost limb, sometimes.

"Well, that was a bit unfortunate," he says as casually as he can make himself, flicking his lightsaber off.

"A bit of an understatement," Padmé says, standing up and dusting her robes off. The other handmaidens swarm Anaké again, who's busy wiping blood off his hands. It might not be the best example of body-doubling ever committed by the Naboo, but then again, what does Obi-Wan know about either the Naboo or their body-doubling practices. He's certainly never looked into them.

Padmé joins the group around Anaké and steps up to him to carefully wipe a little more blood off of Amidala’s makeup with her thumb. It doesn't smear, to Obi-Wan's mild surprise. He doesn't know much about makeup either, of course.

The guards come out to collect the surviving attackers, and the dignitaries and attendants start coming out as well. Most of them are wary, but they're grateful too.

Obi-Wan doesn't feel drunk anymore, at least, though actually at this point he'd like another drink or two.

He thinks about going over to Amidala and her entourage, but he can't imagine why they'd want him there.

Palpatine comes back as the guards and attendants are cleaning up, looking alarmed.

"What happened?" he says. Obi-Wan still wants another drink.

"Just a minor incident, Supreme Chancellor," he says, though the hall is trashed enough that he doubts that's a convincing statement. "Nothing to worry about."

"I see you've handled things well enough yourself, Obi-Wan," Palpatine says, looking at the lightsaber wounds on the attackers. Obi-Wan straightens up, trying not to look as tired as he feels.

"I had some assistance," he says, tilting his head towards Amidala and her entourage. Palpatine makes a thoughtful noise.

"I see," he says. "Well, it's a good thing you were here."

"I suppose," Obi-Wan says, which logically he recognizes is true, and yet . . .

And yet.

"How was your dance?" Palpatine asks, and Obi-Wan smiles weakly at him.

"Perhaps I owe Queen Amidala another," he says.

"Ah, well, there's always next time," Palpatine says, and Obi-Wan really doesn't know if he ever wants to see Amidala or Padmé or Anaké's faces ever again.

"I suppose," he says again, and watches the handmaidens fuss over the debris-covered hem of Anaké's dark robes, and feels him in the Force like a star: the lineage-brother he'll never have, the padawan Qui-Gon was never able to take, the would-be Chosen One that went unchosen. The boy wearing a queen's face like he's worn it a thousand times, so impossible to miss but so well-hidden all the same.

Obi-Wan still doesn't know what he feels about any of this at all.

He supposes it doesn’t really matter, though.

No one's going to ask him, after all.

[padfoot-and-prongsie]

Sneaking Around || Fred Weasley

Character: Fred Weasley

Word Count: 4.3k

Requested: No, but feel free to send some in!

Summary: Your Slytherin friends would never approve of your boyfriend, but then again, who said they had to know?

Warnings: Fluff, swearing, Umbridge, Slytherins being bullies, sexual innuendos

Disclaimer: I did not make this gif, credit to the lovely person who did

A/N: School has certainly kept me busy, but this is finally up! This fic was written for @theweasleysredhair 9k writing contest with the trope “secretly dating” and the prompt “I could kiss you write now”. I hope ya’ll like it <3

PLEASE DO NOT COPY OR STEAL MY WORK. REBLOGS ARE JUST FINE :)

The throng of students going back to the school was filled with loud chatter over the results of the Quidditch match, but you weren’t joining in. No, instead you were frantically scanning the crowds the moment you stepped out of the locker room, hoping you could catch a glimpse of red hair.

Montague was beside you, a sickly grin on his face despite the loss. In his and Malfoy’s opinions, the match had been a success, as last they saw George Weasley and Harry Potter they had all but been dragged off the pitch by McGonagall.

“Try to aim a little better next time, L/N,” Montague said. “With Weasley defending the goal it shouldn’t be that difficult to score points.”

“Well tell Goyle to get a bit more accurate,” you snapped back. “I can’t do anything with fucking Spinnet on me the whole time.”

Though it hurt to spit that out, Montague didn’t notice. None of them ever did. You really would deserve an award for the incredible acting you had done over the past year.

Montague made a face. “There’s only so much I can do with that oaf. Just step it up, L/N.”

You mock saluted him as he walked away, before quickly restarting your search for the all to familiar Weasley.

But once more you were stopped short when Malfoy caught up to you on the grass path back to the school.

He was quietly humming Weasley is Our King under his breath, an action that made you desperately want to punch him in the face. He already had a wad of cotton shoved up his nose from the last person who did that, and you could see some light bruises beginning to form on his arms. If he was in pain, he didn’t show it, though you had a feeling he would have the act ready for dinner that night.

“I’m looking to add some new verses to the song, any ideas?” he asked, falling into step beside you.

You shrugged hoping your shoulders weren’t as tense as they felt. If he had asked you last year you would have had a long string of words to call the Weasley family, but now you could hardly bring yourself to even hum the tune.

“I don’t know,” you finally answered, hoping he would get off your back.

Draco didn’t take the hint. “I need some rhymes for ugly and loser,” he said, a sadistic smirk on his face as he brought up the words that had sent Potter and George over the edge.

“How about you’re a real loser so talking to you is quite a snoozer,” you muttered, “and I know you’re already to begin with quite ugly, but you need to upgrade your fangirls, they’re a little to fugly,” you finished, eyeing Parkinson a few yards away who was bouncing up and down on her toes as she waited for Draco.

“Fuck you,” Draco said, rolling his eyes. “You're terrible help, you know that right?”

You ignored him, not even bothering to look back as he stepped off towards where Parkinson, Crabbe, and Goyle were waiting. Merlin you hated Draco Malfoy and tried to make that plenty obvious when he was around, but for some reason he kept coming back. At least you managed to take a few jabs at his ego. You were rather pleased with your little poem, if you did say so yourself.

You were all the way up to the castle when a small paper bird fluttered over to you, it’s delicate wings flapping wildly as it battled the wind. It landed gracefully on your palm, neatly unfolding itself to reveal the scrawled out message inside.

7th floor, back corridor, behind the tapestry of the One Eyed Witch

8 o'clock

It wasn’t signed but by now you were well familiar with the messy handwriting and a smile lit your face as you thought of the Weasley you had been looking for earlier. Glancing quickly over your shoulder to make sure Draco and his goons were far enough away, you hastily shoved the parchment in your pocket and continued on your way.

By now you were well used to the odd meeting choices, the cramped alcoves under the stairs and the dusty long forgotten classrooms. Yet as unpleasant as they could be sometimes, the exhilaration of sneaking around, the thrill of not getting caught, left your heart racing.

You could hardly focus during dinner that night, trying your best not to send too many glances over to the Gryffindor table. The red and gold were all in different stages of gloom, their eyes dull and smiles non-existent ever since they heard the recent news about the state of some of their best quidditch players. Potter, George, and Fred had both been banned for life on Umbridge’s orders, which had led to a buzz of glee around the Slytherin table as they gossiped excitedly over the news.

You did your best to sound just as thrilled, laughing over the Gryffindor’s bad fortune, pitying Malfoy when he dramatically limped over to the table, and snickering with the rest of them as Pansy and Draco worked on more verses to their song. But anyone who looked close enough could see the white of your knuckles as you gripped your glass of pumpkin juice, they way you had to restrain yourself from crushing the glass as they laughed at the expense of the Weasley family.

By 8 o’clock you were so fed up with the Slytherins that you were more than happy to flee from the common room, pounding up the many flights of stairs to reach the seventh floor.

You followed the instructions you had been given, navigating your way through the halls until you found the large tapestry that had been mentioned.

You slowly pulled it aside and immediately got hit by the strong stench of dust and mold. But you didn’t care about the smell, for almost instantly a strong pair of arms were wrapped around you and let out a giggle as you were spun around, before pressing a kiss to Fred’s lips.

Fred Weasley was grinning back at you, the light in his eyes that had been lost at dinner back as he took in your smiling face.

He kissed you again hard, pouring all his frustration and stress that had built up in the last week into it as his mouth moved roughly against yours.

When you pulled back for air, you were finally able to take him in. His cheeks were flushed red, and his hair had already taken on a tousled appearance from your fingers running through it. Fred’s eyes were bright with happiness as he looked back at you, his lips quirked up in the Fred Weasley smile you loved so much. But as you glanced down, you could make out the subtle hue of bruises forming on his arms from where Angelina, Alicia, and Katie had been gripping on to him for dear life to prevent him from attacking Draco just hours earlier.

Fred followed your gaze. “I got banned you know,” he finally said, the sadness creeping back into his eyes.

“Yeah, I heard,” you replied downheartedly.

“I didn’t even do anything to that prat,” Fred continued. “If I knew that hag would ban me anyway I would have punched every inch of Malfoy’s fucking body.”

You could see the anger spike in his eyes and you quickly placed a hand on his chest.

“Calm down, Freddie,” you said softly, waiting for his heart rate to return to normal. “I should have made them stop,” you whispered, “all I did was sit there and watch, I feel horrible.”

“Don’t apologize love, there’s nothing you could have done without anyone getting suspicious.” Fred said, absently running his hand through your hair.

“Suspicious of us?” you laughed. “I think we do a rather good job if I do say so myself.”

Fred’s smile returned. “Yes we are pretty secretive,” his lips quirk into a smirk and he pressed his mouth against yours. “Abandoned classrooms, ducking into alcoves,” he whispered against your lips. “There’s something sexy-” at that word his hands slipped lower, giving your bottom a squeeze “- about sneaking around.”

“Are you groping my ass?” you asked, humor dancing in your eyes.

Fred’s smirk widened and he placed another kiss on your lips. “What would you do if I was?”

“I’d tell you to stop wasting your time talking when you could have me up against that wall,” you whispered, biting your lip.

Fred’s eyes darkened in lust. “You really are little Slytherin, so coy at getting what you want.”

You smirked. “What can I say? That Sorting Hat picked right.”

“It sure did,” Fred agreed huskily, walking you back towards the wall.

As your body pressed against the stone you jumped, wrapping your legs around his waist and dragging his mouth down to meet yours.

Needless to say, you and Fred snuck out forty five minutes later, well passed curfew and both looking rather disheveled.

“Don’t get caught going back,” Fred whispered, glancing both ways down the hall.

“I won’t,” you assured him. “Besides, if I do Umbridge will probably get me out of it, she seems to have taken a liking in me.” 

You gave him a pointed look. “It’s you I’m worried about, one bad step and she’ll expel you.”

Fred shrugged. “I’ve stopped worrying about that ever since she came to town.”

You sighed. “Just don’t do anything stupid yet, okay?”

“Okay okay,” Fred agreed grinning. “Just for you I won't.”

“Thanks,” you smiled, standing up on your tiptoes to kiss him. “I’ll see you later.”

Fred pulled you in to kiss you once more, then let you go, being sure you were well down the corridor before he himself snuck off in the other direction.

You managed to make it back to the Slytherin common room undetected, only running into Mrs. Norris, who you stunned, then slipped by before she came to. The Slytherin common room was still bright with life at 9 oclock on a Saturday night, but no one questioned you when you walked in. Most students had snuck out past curfew their fare share of times, so they wrote you off as being no different then themselves

Doing your best to hide the grin on your face that usually came after being with Fred, you slipped upstairs to the girl’s dorms. Only one of your roommates was there, sorting through her trunk, but after exchanging pleasantries she left to go downstairs.

Falling onto your bed, you let out a sigh, the smile finally getting to appear on your face. Merlin this boy was going to be the death of you.

You had met Fred at the beginning last year after you both landed yourselves a week's worth of detention with McGonagall. At the time you had thought the redhead was the biggest prick you knew, and in turn, he saw you as a stuck up brat. Somehow though, amidst trophy cleaning, quiz grading, and classroom organizing, you had taken a liking to him. There was something about that easy smile and stupid sense of humor that got to you, and in turn, your quick wit and dry sarcasm had left him smitten.

It had been over a week after your time together in detention when you had seen Fred again, this time when he had come up behind you during passing time and, with a firm grip on your wrist, proceeded to pull you behind a statue in one of the more quiet corridors of Hogwarts.

“What the hell are you doing Weasley!” you had hissed, frantically looking around to make sure no one was near.

Instead of answering, Fred had gently placed his hands on either side of your face, fixing you with an intense gaze that left your heart racing.

“What are you doing?” you had whispered again softly, unconsciously stepping closer to him.

“For some idiotic reason, I can’t stop thinking about you,” Fred had said.

“Really?” you’d breathed, your heart starting to pound more fiercely.

“And for some even more idiotic reason,” Fred had continued. “I really want to know what it’s like to kiss you.”

The speed of your racing heart increased and you unconsciously found yourself glancing at his lips

Fred noticed, a smirk spreading across his mouth. In one flourish of motion you were pressed against his chest with his lips only inches from yours.

“But our houses,” you had whispered, looking up at his dark eyes.

A smirk had slowly spread across Fred’s face. “Who says anyone has to know?”

And then he had kissed you, hard, and from that moment forward you had completely and utterly fallen for Fred Weasley.

~

“Professor Umbridge wants to see you in her office,” a voice behind you said, causing you to jump violently, dropping the book you had been reading.

Turning in annoyance, you glared at Draco, who was behind you snickering.

“Prick,” you muttered under your breath, reaching down to pick up your book with the intention of continuing it.

“She really does want to see you,” Draco said.

Instantly you froze, your mind drifting to Fred.

“Why?” you managed to squeak out.

Draco gave you a suspicious look. “I don’t know,” he finally said. “She wanted me to round up a good lot of us. Your name was on the list.”

You let out a sigh of relief.

“Okay then,” you said, getting up from the couch, your demeanor returning to normal again. “Her office?”

Draco nodded. “I have to go tell Zabini and Montague, but I’ll meet you up there.”

“Sounds good,” you responded, stepping past him to leave the common room.

When you reached the office of Professor Umbridge, you were rather surprised to find its door ajar. Tentatively pushing it open, you were greeted by an extremely pink room and at least fifteen other Slytherins looking just as confused as you were.

“Ahh, Ms. L/N, thank you for coming,” said a high pitched voice that made your blood boil.

“Of course Professor. Thank you for inviting me,” you replied, a fake smile on your face.

She let out a little giggle. “Oh do I have a treat for you.”

She quickly ushered you over to stand with the rest of the group, then, once Draco showed up with the rest of the recruits, quickly clapped her hands for attention.

“I have received some shocking news,” she started, a grave look on her face. “It seems Harry Potter has formed a club. A club which wasn’t approved by me, and a club to teach others illegal and dangerous magic.” She paused dramatically.

For effect, you raised your eyebrows in surprise, though inside you were suddenly filled with a deep sense of dread. Anything Potter was involved with had a high chance Fred would be there too.

“Now, from a source we have learned where these meetings are being held, and it turns out there is one tonight. You all have been chosen by me to come stop this atrocity and give proper punishment to those involved.” Professor Umbridge's sickly smile widened. “Your services will be greatly rewarded by the minister himself.”

Around you, you could feel the Slytherins buzz in excitement, their smiles widening at a chance to get the Gryffindor's into trouble. Your smile was equally wide, but inside your nerves were piling up.

“They’re on the seventh floor, in the left corridor, across the painting of Barnabas the Barmy,” she said, jumping up and down on her stubby legs, a look of glee in her eyes. “Go catch them.”

There was a flourish of movement as everyone made for the door, pushing up the stairs and trying to be the first to catch the wrongdoers. You too were pushing to the front, but not because you wanted recognition from the ministry, but because you desperately wanted to be the one to catch Fred in hopes that you could find a way to get him out unscathed.

As you reached the seventh floor, it seemed the Gryffindors had been given a heads up, as swarms of people were running out of a doorway you had never seen before. Upon closer observation, you realized that there were far more than a few Gryffindors, as Umbridge had suggested, but in fact there were more than fifty people from a wide range of houses sprinting down the hall.

“Get them!” Umbridge shrieked from behind you, and you instantly took off, shoving your way through the chaos.

Fred and George ran from the Room of Requirement, for once not joking about their predicament. Behind them, Harry was quickly running around, trying to usher everyone out as a mob of Slytherins filled the corridor.

Together with George, Fred ducked down one of the side corridors, hoping he could make it to the boys bathroom that was only another turn away.

But before he knew it, his legs locked together and he tumbled to the floor, quickly shouting at George to run as he tried to squirm away from his captor.

Fred felt a hand grip tightly to his shoulder, pulling him up from the floor as another jinx whizzed by him towards his brother. George managed to duck it, but from behind Fred, Montague came running by, his wand in hand as he chased the other redheaded twin.

Fred reached for his wand to hex the Slytherin, but someone behind him got to it first, shooting a jinx that caused Montague to stiffen up, before falling face first on the floor.

The grip on Fred tightened, and he felt the spell on his legs release as he was suddenly able to walk as his captor pulled him down the other hallway.

Fred, sensing an opportunity, kicked his left leg back, trying to throw the Slytherin off balance, but they easily dodged it, dancing out of the way of his weak attempt at escaping.

“Merlin Freddie, that’s the thanks I get?” they asked, and Fred quickly turned in surprise to see you looking at him in amusement, a smirk playing at your lips.

“Love?” he asked, his eyebrows shooting up. “What are you doing?”

“Trying to save your arse,” you replied, a slight grin on your face.

Fred looked at you as if he were seeing you for the first time. “Damn that was so hot,” he breathed, “I could kiss you right now.”

Your heart gave a little flutter, but you tried to keep your expression neutral. “Let’s put a pause on that for right now,” you said, as Ernie McMillan ran by with Theodore Nott hot on his heels.

“I’ll hold you to it,” Fred grinned.

You rolled your eyes, then glanced around the hallway, but amidst all the chaos you hoped nobody had noticed your quick exchange.

“Just do me a favor and look pissed off and try to put up a bit of a fight,” you instructed. “I know a place where we can hide.”

Fred didn’t respond, instead quickly reverting his expression to one of anger as he pretended to pull away from your hold, though making sure he didn’t do so hard enough that you couldn’t drag him down the corridor.

Once you were out of sight of the madness of the main hall, you pulled Fred in after you into one of the secret passageways he had shown you last year. It was cramped and not well lit, but the tunnel was suited well enough for the two of you to stay in until the corridors cleared.

“Were you the one who hexed me back there?” Fred asked the instant the passage was sealed.

You shrugged. “I had to make it look convincing.”

“But why? Couldn’t you have just let us run off?” Fred pressed.

“Crabbe and Goyle had circled around to block that end, I couldn’t risk you going that way,” you replied.

“George went that way though,” Fred said, his eyes filled with concern for his brother.

You sighed. “There wasn’t much I could do in the moment,” you admitted, “I was more focused on you. I did jinx Montague for him, so hopefully that gave him enough of a head start,” you added with a laugh.

Fred grinned. “That was a rather good one.”

“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to do that,” you said, amusement dancing in your eyes. “It’s probably the highlight of my year.”

Fred put on a face of mock hurt. “You mean I’m not the highlight of your year?” he asked dramatically.

You rolled your eyes. “You make a close second,” you teased.

A smirk creeped across Fred’s face and he suddenly pulled you up against his chest, his lips brushing against yours. 

“Let’s see if I can get myself into first,” he said cockily.

~

It wasn’t until after the Easter holidays when you saw Fred again, and this time, due to a new Educational Degree (number twenty nine if you were being exact) you had a silver I hooked to your robes and about the same amount of power as the teachers.

“How’s that Inquisitorial Squad going for you?” Fred asked, the moment you stepped into your latest meeting space.

“It’s so stupid,” you complained rolling your eyes. “It just inflates Malfoy’s head more than it already is and gives Slytherins a chance to pick on everyone.”

Fred wore an amused smile on his face. “It seems you’re taking advantage of this new found power too,” he commented lazily.

“Zacharias Smith is a twat and everyone knows it, so I don’t particularly care how many points I dock him,” you stated bluntly.

Fred snorted at your response. “Bloody hell I love that about you.”

You raised your eyebrows. “Love what?”

Fred laughed, pulling you towards him so he could kiss you once on the lips.

“How when somebody pisses you off you are so determined about getting back at them,” he finally said.

“Most people say it’s one of my worst traits,” you managed to get out as Fred’s lips began attacking your neck.

“It’s actually rather adorable,” Fred hummed against your skin.

“Fred?” you asked quietly, a thought suddenly popping into your head.

“Yes love?”

“Was there something you needed to talk to me about?”

Fred detached himself from your neck to properly look at you.

“It’s just that you said you wanted to see me and we only just got back two hours ago,” you stuttered quickly, suddenly feeling you had gotten the wrong idea. “Not that of course this isn’t a good reason,” you motioned between the two of you.

A slight smile spread across Fred’s lips. “Your two observant for your own good,” he said jokingly.

“What is it then, what’s wrong?” you asked, every possible reason filling your mind.

“Nothings wrong,” Fred quickly reassured you. “But you told be not to do anything stupid yet at the beginning of the year,” he paused, “that ‘yet’ has finally come.”

Your eyes widened. “What are you going to do?”

“Harry needs some help, so George and I offered ours, though I doubt we’ll get through this without being expelled,” he said, pausing to gage your reaction.

Your eyebrows had shot up and your jaw dropped. “What?! Why would you do that?”

“Because love, George and I don’t see the need to continue our education-”

“But what about-” you tried to interrupt.

Fred held up his index finger. “Just give me a minute to explain.”

“Okay,” you agreed, though your face still held a look of concern.

“We bought a shop,” Fred continued, “Harry gave us his Triwizard winnings so we bought one in Diagon Alley. You’re the first person that knows, and well, we were going to wait until after this school year but now with Dumbledore gone and that hag taking over the school, you’re the only reason left for me to stay.”

Fred looked you in the eyes. “That’s why I had to ask, can I do one last stupid thing? I am so in love with you Y/N, and you know that and if you want me to stay I will, and I promise nothing will change. I’ll be happy either way because I have you. I just knew I could never leave you here without first asking if you would be okay.”

A swell of love for the boy sitting across from you filled your chest and the concern had left your face. In its place, a single tear rolled down your cheek as you looked at the boy who had just told you he would leave all his dreams behind for you.

“Of course you can go Fred, I could never hold you back from that,” you said, letting him pull you against his chest. “But what about-” you looked up at him “-what about us?”

Fred grinned, kissing you once on the lips. “We’ll get to finally be together,” he answered softly. “There’s a flat above the shop, George has his space, we’ll have ours.”

“But George doesn’t know about us,” you protested. “What if he doesn’t-”

Fred cut you off by placing another kiss on your mouth. “If I have to marry you with only the two of us and the official at the service, then that would be enough. I don’t care about what he thinks about you and me.”

“Marrying me?” you whispered.

Fred interlaced his hand with yours. “The moment you graduate if you want love. Then we’ll never have to be apart for more than a second.”

You looped your arms around his neck, kissing him hard. “I love you so much Fred Weasley,” you whispered against his lips.

“And I love you a thousand times more,” he replied, his mouth barely leaving yours.

Fred tugged your thighs and you jumped up, wrapping your legs tightly around his waist.

“Now,” Fred said, and you could feel his smirk against your lips. “Why don’t we make this a night to remember.”

~

Taglist: Ask to be added! @missmulti @girl-next-door-writes @28cnn @thedarlinghufflepuff @rocket-svt

[sin-of-jess]

Illumi Zoldyck

Type:  Smut

~

When I had laid down for bed tonight, I didn't expect to wake up in the night to Illumi Zoldyck standing over me.  A scream was caught in my throat, but I fought back letting it out to not give him the satisfaction of startling.  I guess I was too tired to keep the shock at bay, based on his comment.

"Did I surprise you?"  He asks, staring down at me with empty eyes. I frown as I sit up, opting to not answer his question, "I thought you were out of town?" Letting his question drop, he begins taking the clothes off the upper part of his body, "The job ended faster than anticipated, the abilities of the target were greatly overrated."

I pull the blanket to my chin to keep my naked body covered, "Why are you here?"

"Why am I ever here at this time of night?"  He asks with a raised eyebrow as if I was a moron for not knowing his intentions.

I roll my eyes, "What if I'm not in the mood?"

In a blink of an eye, he's in front of me on the bed, pushing me back into my soft sheets, "You're easy to persuade."  He replies, His hand weaving its way into my hair as he pulls me in for a kiss.

I wish he was wrong, but there was something about the man that made me weak at the knees.  I let him put his cold lips to mine, and deciding that it had been a while I relax into his touch.  He pulls the blanket down to expose my chest to the cold air, but warmth returns to me as his chest drops onto my own. 

His dick is hard against my leg, and my insides clench at the idea of the impending pleasure the pale man will bring me.  He could play me like a fiddle, and that's just what he did as his nimble fingers go below the blanket and dip into my folds.  

I don't want want to give him the satisfaction of knowing how easy it is for him to make me fold into him, but how quick my slit gets wet is an obvious giveaway.  He alternates between dipping his fingers inside me and swirling them over my clit.

Deciding I'm ready enough for him he removes the rest of his clothes and slips under the covers with me.  Unlike the rest of his body, his cock is hot, pulsing strong enough to bob his heavy rod.  He maneuvers himself to where his cock head is at my core, rubbing the bulbous head along my slit a few times before sliding inside me.  

Illumi's cock is just like him, long and slender.  Immediately it's pushing against my cervix, already feeling like it's bruised as he slams into me.  I arch my back, situating just right so that his pelvis grinds my clit as he thrusts.  

That last bit of stimulation is all I need to slip over the edge, my body tensing as I let out soft but deep moans.  I relax into the bed, but Illumi must not have liked how that made my body positioned.  He hooks one of his arms under my knee, sliding it until my leg is over his shoulder.  His dick manages to get even deeper into me in this position, and my eyes roll into the back of my head as the pleasure increases.

I dig my feet into the bed to lift my hips, matching his thrusts all while pushing my chest up even more.  It's enough to catch his eyes, which are now focused on my tits as they bounce wildly.  He surprises me by leaning forward and slipping one of my nipples into his mouth.  He's generally a selfish lover, so the act of him pleasing me while pleasing himself is shocking.

I don't think about it though, instead closing my eyes and focusing solely on the pleasure from the extra stimulation.  He swirls his tongue around and sucks deep, and I don't care about the satisfaction he probably feels as I let my moans get loud as I grip the pillows.

It all comes together like a symphony and I scream out as another orgasm hits me, this one significantly more powerful than the first.  My entire body shakes as I see stars, the sensations seeming to go on forever.  It's enough to push Illumi as well, the silent man grunting just enough for me to barely hear it as he bottoms out.  I can feel his cock jerk as he empties himself inside me and I watch as he pulls halfway out and squeezes his cock to put every last drop into me.

When he's done he rolls to the side, taking up the side of my bed that's always empty.  I don't want to ruin anything by mentioning that he's staying, another thing he seldom does.  He comes by to release tension and then leaves, something that doesn't bother me in the least.  He always made me cum and post-sex was when Illumi looked the sexiest.

His usually perfectly placed hair was mussed, a few strands clinging to his sweat-dampened temple.  His cheeks and chest were slightly flush as well, the rest of him as he always is.  He turns a dead eye to me, "I'm going to sleep now,"  He tells me before rolling over to do just that.

I stare at his back incredulously, wondering what was going on with the stoic man.  I know I won't get answers if I ask and might risk him leaving if I did, so instead, I just turn away and snuggle into my pillow, secretly relishing how good it felt to have his cum leaking out of me.

[jackrrabbit]

it will come back [pt. 1] /// Yandere Shigaraki x f!Reader

Summary: You have a bad habit of picking up strays, and the half-dead villain you find bleeding out in a dumpster is no exception. [Part 2] [Part 3]

A/N: Low budget yandere for my greasy king. This concept has definitely been done before, but I couldn’t resist. This is my first non-smut on this acct and I’ll be so sad if it bombs 😭

Title from the Hozier song: “don’t let it in with no intention to keep it / jesus christ, don’t be kind to it / oh honey don’t feed it / it will come back.”

Tags/warnings: light yandere, minor injury, angst, Shiggy likes you, reader needs a friend and a good night’s sleep. [In later parts but not in this one: violence, sex, more yandere, 18+]

You’ve always had a soft spot for strays. Maybe that’s why you became an ER nurse—from the first abandoned puppy you brought home as a kid to the patients you refuse to give up on even when it looks hopeless, you’ve never been able to turn a blind eye when something needs your help. Sometimes (times like this) you wish you knew better. It’s hard enough to take care of yourself these days.

Today’s shift was…what, 16 hours? 17? The 20-minute walk from the bus stop to your apartment building feels like it takes twice that long in the rain. God, you need a shower. And a decent night’s sleep, preferably for at least 12 hours. Tomorrow’s your day off, and you’re ready to take advantage of it the best way you know how: Netflix, soju, and your favorite vibrator. But tonight? As soon as you’re clean, you’re going to pig out on leftovers and collapse into the bed that’s the only halfway nice piece of furniture in your shithole apartment. You really do deserve a break; you’ve earned it.

Unfortunately, as usual, the universe has other plans.

You hear him before you see him: wheezing, choked breaths, like someone’s trying to breathe with an anvil on their chest. You’re not quite out of nurse mode so your mind starts trying to diagnose the issue before you even register what you’re hearing. Fluid in the lungs, possibly blood. That hacking isn’t good. Broken ribs? Definitely bruised. But probably not a puncture…

The breathing is coming from down an alley next to your building. It’s dark enough that you can’t see from the street what’s making the noise. And you’re not a fool, you know it’s a bad idea to walk down pitch-black alleys late at night, especially in this area—a neighborhood you’re living in by necessity, because it’s the only place cheap enough for you to get by. But the coughing…it just sounds so awful. It sounds like it hurts.

Your phone’s already in your hand with 119 dialed and ready to call (standard practice when you’re walking home by yourself), but you turn the flashlight on and shine it down the alleyway. “Hello? Anyone there?”

Nothing responds, but you can still hear the breathing. You step in a little deeper, swinging your light from side to side and looking over the heaps of trash bags overflowing from the dumpster. The raindrops make clicking sounds as they hit the plastic, and you can hear gurgling from a rain spout down the side of the building, but the wheezing doesn’t stop.

One more step. And then one more. You wish there was something you could do to make the splash of your rain boots in the puddles a little less loud. Something about this situation—the rain, the dark, the flat grey light from your cellphone, and that horrible hacking breath—it makes you feel like you’re walking into a horror movie. But you don’t stop walking.

The hacking is coming from a man propped up on the wall between a few XL bags of trash. The black outfit he’s wearing almost blends into the bags, but a mop of grey-blue hair gives him away. His head is slumped onto his chest, and if he’s conscious he doesn’t show it. “Hello?” you ask again, even less confident that you’re going to get a response.

No answer.

The smell of garbage is…ugh…hard to ignore, but on top of it is an oppressive stench of copper coming from the man passed out in the trash. You kneel down to get a better look and yep, he’s covered in blood. It’s hard to make out in the low light, but there’s a trio of long gashes in the man’s abdomen, cutting apart the skin and flesh so deep you can see traces of a slim layer of yellow fat between all the inky clotted blood. It looks like he was attacked by an animal. Or someone with an animal quirk. There are a lot of villains in this neighborhood.

And the coughing...definitely internal injuries. Whoever this guy is, he needs treatment. You hold up your phone to hit the call button on your pre-dialed 119—

“Don’t.” The voice is a growl, low and surprisingly firm despite the scratchiness. You jerk back and clutch your phone to your chest, caught off guard not just by the interruption but by the intensity of the face glaring up at yours.

His eyes are red. “You need an ambulance,” you tell him in your calmest nurse voice.

“If you try to call the police, I’ll—kill you,” the man says, but the threat is a little less threatening when he has to stop in the middle to retch blood onto his own chin.

You glare back at him but don’t call the emergency number. There are a lot of of reasons why he wouldn’t want to go to the hospital, but the most obvious one is probably true. “You’re a criminal. A villain?”

He doesn’t respond, choosing instead to keep glaring at you like you’ve committed some mortal sin against his ancestors by having the nerve to check on him and try to help him. Somehow it pisses you off. When you were getting your ADN, you once took a temp job doing health screenings at a local middle school and you would always get so annoyed at the kids. Didn’t they see you were just doing your job? Why is it so hard to understand that what you’re doing is for their own good?

Stupid kids. Stupid villain. “You’d rather bleed out and die?”

The man bares his teeth at you, and it’s a pretty disturbing scene considering how they’re covered in scarlet. “You think they’re going to save me? Think I’ll go to the hospital and get all my HP restored?”

He’s mocking you now. You only have a second to move out of the way before he spits off to the side. “I mean…that’s how a hospital works.”

“If you think I would—make it out of that ambulance alive, you’re—dumber than you look.” His voice is interspersed with coughs.

“Well, you’re not going to live if I leave you here.” You hold up your phone, ready to call the ambulance, but in a shocking display of agility the man lunges forward and grabs it out of your hand. “Hey, wait! Give that…back…”

Your voice trails off as your phone crumbles—literally crumbles to dust in the man’s fingers. Once he’s satisfied that there’s no way for you to call the cops, he slumps back onto the trash bags and closes his eyes, apparently exhausted from the effort.

Goddamnit…! For a second, you can only stare blankly at the pile of dust that used to be your $300 smartphone. And then you’re seized by something, maybe not hatred but an annoyance so strong you can feel it in your throat, and you decide right then and there that this villain is not going to die. You’re going to save him. Out of spite.

You’re not sure how you manage to half-carry him from the alley to your apartment, but you do. You’re lucky it’s ass-o-clock at night and no one’s in the lobby or the elevator, or you’d definitely be getting some looks trying to lug a maimed body around. What would you say if someone did call the cops? Don’t worry, don’t worry about it officer, it’s just my friend drank a little too much, oh those wounds? We were at a costume party, haha…

But no one sees you, and no one calls the cops. The man is unconscious the whole time you’re carrying him, and by the time you have him laid out on a shower curtain on your living room floor his breathing is a little bit shallower than it was before. You’ve got your tools—nothing fancy, just some gauze and closures and antiseptic from your personal first aid kit. It’s not much, but it’ll have to be enough.

“Let’s get to work, asshole,” you tell the unconscious body in front of you, and you crack your knuckles.

///

The day after you pick the villain out of the garbage, your body decides that it’s not going to let you sleep in no matter how much you need it. You can tell because the huge windows in your bedroom—the only saving grace of this apartment, honestly—are depositing golden-pink sunrise light over everything you see when you open your eyes, including the villain’s face. Which is about six inches away from yours.

“You smell like death,” you tell him sleepily. He doesn’t move.

He’s…probably in his early twenties, you think, but it’s hard to tell because of all the wrinkles. His hair is on the longer side, and it’s striped with rusty brown smears from his blood. Again, you notice how red his irises are. Have you ever seen someone with eyes that color before? You’re pretty sure you haven’t.

“You slept for a long time,” the villain says, finally moving back so he’s not breathing into your mouth.

“Yeah, I was tired. From saving your life.” You sit up and rub your temples. “I’m thirsty…”

Before you can finish your complaint, the villain is holding a glass of water out to you in an awkward 4-fingered grip.

“Um, thanks, I guess.” You suck down the water and immediately feel better, enough that you realize how wrong it is that he’s up and moving around and probably undoing all your hard work. “You should be lying down.”

“The floor hurt, and I was bored.”

“Lie on the couch then. You can watch TV. But first—“ He’s sitting on the edge of your bed next to you, and you make him lie down flat so you can look at the injuries. They’re not nearly as bad as they looked last night—no walk in the park, but at least you won’t have a corpse in your apartment in a few hours.

When you’re done inspecting him, he sits up and asks you for a shirt. You had to cut his off, not that it was any great loss. The thing was shredded. Him pointing it out is the only thing that makes you really realize he’s shirtless, so you give him an oversized pajama shirt of yours. It has the name and motto of your old high school on it, and the villain reads it out in a half-mocking tone when you hand it to him.

“Beggars shouldn’t be choosers,” you snap. “You should be grateful.”

“I am grateful,” he says, putting the shirt on. “But I don’t understand.”

“I mean, you need a shirt, right? It’s cold—“

“No. Not that.” He’s staring at you again, and you find it difficult to maintain eye contact. “Why you didn’t leave me where you found me last night.”

There’s a lot you could tell him, all of it a little bit true. You were curious. You believed him when he said he wouldn’t make it out of the hospital alive. You couldn’t leave him alone the same way you can’t leave abandoned puppies alone. You wanted to prove to him that you were right, and that being stubborn wouldn’t get him what he wanted. But you don’t say that. “You killed my phone, so you owe me a new one. And I can’t get that back if you bleed out.”

He’s looking at you like he doesn’t believe you, and you fidget under his gaze until he sighs and says, “Whatever.”

You have to let him lean on your shoulder when he walks back to the living room to lie down on your couch. How the hell did he even get to your bedroom by himself? You really didn’t think this through—what are you supposed to do with an infirm possible villain who can barely walk unsupported without opening his injuries back up?

But that’s a problem for tomorrow you to deal with. Today, you’re content to set your laptop up on the coffee table so the two of you can watch TV in…oddly companionable (if you’re not imagining it) silence. It’s almost the lazy day off you were daydreaming about before you got yourself into this mess, and the atmosphere is so relaxed that before you can really decide whether to force the man to go to the hospital or turn him out on the street (or…?) you’re dozing off on your couch like there isn’t a potentially dangerous stranger lying beside you with his head just a few inches from your lap.

When you wake up, your problem is solved for you. He’s gone, and it’s like he was never there—except you’re down a cellphone and a pajama shirt, and your shower curtain is drenched with blood. You wrap it up with the rest of the soiled medical supplies and toss all of it in a dumpster a mile away from your building without knowing exactly why.

///

It’s not the last you see of him, but somehow you had a feeling that was going to be the case.

He scares the shit out of you the first time he visits (over time, that’s how you’ll start to think of his little unannounced drop-ins: visits. Like you’re being visited by a ghost or something). You’re coming back from another grueling shift in the ER, so tired you think you might be sleepwalking, and what do you find when you come in your apartment but a strange white-haired man sitting on your couch eating dry cereal out of the box and flipping through one of your books?

You nearly piss yourself.

He doesn’t seem surprised, which makes sense, considering he’s a villain and he’s probably used to pulling this dramatic entrance thing on people. He certainly doesn’t seem the least bit threatened when you brandish the mini canister of pepper spray on your keychain and demand that he tell you how he got in if he wants to retain the power of eyesight.

“It was unlocked,” he says.

“It was not unlocked,” you reply, rolling your eyes. You may be sleep deprived, but you’re not careless. Never careless.

“Whatever. Calm down. You’re not going to use that on me.”

He’s right, but you don’t want to admit it. If he wanted to do something to hurt you, he could’ve done it that first night. And you’re too tired to really put up a fight, so you just put the cap back on the pepper spray and flop down next to him on the couch. “What the hell are you doing here?”

He looks at you curiously from between his shaggy bangs, like you’re the one intruding in his home and not the other way around, then reaches out to hand something to you. “Here, payback.”

It’s a cell phone—not a smartphone like the one he destroyed, but a flip phone circa the 2000s, the kind that forces you to press “9” four times to get the letter “F”. You stare at it for a second, then look back at the villain. “Are you kidding? Did you get this from a museum?”

“Take it or leave it.” His feet are propped up on your coffee table, but you can’t make yourself care. Actually, it looks nice…him stretched out with an odd look of comfort on his lanky form.

You lean back on the couch and kick up your feet next to his. “Fine. Thanks, I guess.”

He shrugs.

“How are your wounds healing?” Why are you trying to make conversation with this guy? He’s…a villain, right? Not that you’ve ever received affirmative confirmation of that fact, but the hesitance to call the police and the breaking and entering are pretty good tells. But…it might be weird, but since you picked him up that day, you’ve felt a kind of kinship with him.

Alone. Abandoned. No place to go. No one to save him. It’s not a pretty comparison, but you can’t deny it rings true.

Maybe that’s why you pick up strays.

“They’re fine,” he tells you after so long a pause that you’ve almost forgotten your question. “Doesn’t even hurt anymore.”

You take a long look at him, at his posture—he’s relaxed, but his abdomen is crunched a little bit, curled in on himself so subtly that even you wouldn’t have noticed it if you weren’t looking. It’s not your problem. He’s an adult, and you’re sure he could be seeking real medical attention if he really needed it. You’re in no way obligated to perform some kind of checkup on this arrogant dick who literally broke into your apartment to give you a shitty phone and eat your cereal. The sensible thing to do is to tell him to forget that you live here and hopefully never see him again.

His head tips back to rest on the top of the couch, and he holds your book up to read. At this angle his long hair is out of the way of his face, and you notice among the deep-set creases in his skin a pair of wide scars across his right eye and on the corner of his lips. They’re pale and faded—old, then—but they look off to you, and after a while of snatching glances at his face you realize it’s because they’re healed badly, extraordinarily badly, the kind of healing that you don’t see very often because it only occurs when a stubborn patient tries to let a particularly nasty injury heal on its own. The part of you that isn’t sensible wonders how old he was when he got those scars.

Has he learned his lesson?

You doubt it.

“Lie down,” you sigh. “Let me see the cuts.”

Which is how you find yourself examining this annoying villain again, checking on his injuries and giving him recommendations for care like you’re his personal nurse or something. It’s not a role you enjoy playing, but at least he takes it without complaint, and you start to wonder if maybe this is why he broke into your apartment in the first place. If anything, he looks calmer when you’ve flipped up his shirt and prodded at his wounds, his eyes closing slowly and freeing you of that scarlet-red gaze.

He’s like a cat, you think, and then you shake your head and remind yourself that it’s a terrible idea to think of this man—this grown man who is probably a great danger to you and others—as a wild animal you’re trying to domesticate.

When he finally leaves (only after you drop a couple dozen unsubtle hints about how long you’ve been at work and how exhausted you are), you take a moment before you sink into bed to look at the flip phone. It’s no nicer than your original impression, but as you scroll through the screens you notice that it’s factory-new, except for one thing: there’s a contact programmed in, a phone number with an area code you don’t recognize listed under “T”. And you don’t want to be curious…

…but you are. Shocking.

Down the rabbit hole it is, you decide. So you text him.

///

[You: 12:03 AM] > Hey it’s (Y/N) > (the girl whose apartment you broke into) > What does T stand for? [T: 12:07 AM] > What do u think [You: 12:09 AM] > ?? [T: 12:09 AM] > My name > Dont you know who i am [You: 12:10 AM] > Are you famous? [T: 12:10 AM] > You dont watch the news do u [You: 12:11 AM] > Not really > What’s your name then [T: 12:12 AM] > … > Didnt u say u had to sleep [You: 12:15 AM] > Oh yeah > Whatever I guess > Good night

[T: 2:34 AM] > Its Tomura > Dont look it up

[You: 8:02 AM] > Ok > I won’t > Tomura

➠ [Part 2]

[mummybear]

Borrowed Time - Chapter Two - Sexting

Words: 2352

Warnings: Swearing, Sexting, Dirty Talk.... think that’s it! :)

Pairing: Dean Winchester X Reader

Bingo Square: Sexting - @spnkinkbingo

A/N: So this is part two of the mini series guys! There will be a few bingo squares featuring in the series too. Thank you to my lovely beta as always @negans-lucille-tblr, I really hope you guys all enjoy part two! :) Let me know! If I have missed you off the taglist please let me know and if you wanted to be added to any of my taglists they’re open too :)

Kofi - https://ko-fi.com/mummybear

Part 1    Series Masterlist

After Dean drives away, you take a shaky breath and finally head inside. This definitely wasn’t something you’d expected to happen today, but now he’s all that you can think about. His kisses had been like a drug, your head was still swimming from the effect they’d had on you, and your lips are still tingling. 

Unlocking your front door you head inside, still in somewhat of a daze as you walk upstairs and make your way into the bathroom. Hoping that maybe a nice hot shower can clear your mind a little. You quickly strip out of your clothes and climb into the hot stream of water, sighing in relief when the water finally hits your skin. Yet your thoughts are still going back to the time you’d spent in Dean’s car, the way that he’d held you close with those big strong arms, big capable hands that wouldn’t leave your skin, and you swear that you can still feel his touch everywhere; warm, firm and desperate to keep you close. You force yourself to ignore the flutter between your thighs at the mere memory of Dean and his touch, and quickly finish washing up. You step out of the shower on slightly shaking legs, you’re not sure if it’s from the heat of the shower or from the sheer arousal being caused by your racing thoughts.

You wrap yourself in your towel, and head to your room to start getting dressed. You’ve barely managed to get your underwear on when you hear the ping from your phone, telling you that you’ve just received a text. You finish towel drying your hair and toss the towel into the dirty hamper, before going to check your phone.

You’re a little surprised to find a text from Dean - you hadn’t expected one this soon, but that doesn’t stop you from smiling like an idiot at your phone. You open the new message feed, chewing on your bottom lip as you read the messages. 

> Hey sweetheart, just thought I’d let you know I finally made it to my hell for the night, so feel free to keep me company😉

You bite your lip as you consider what Dean Winchester’s hell might look like, especially considering that he hadn’t mentioned any plans before he’d left. But you’re glad he’s texted so that you can keep him company, because the last thing on your mind right now is concentrating on any assignments, even though that’s probably what you should be doing. You briefly consider your reply before you type it out.

< Hey Dean, I wasn’t expecting to hear from you so soon… someone is keen 😜 Well what exactly does your hell look like? 

You hit send and lay down on your bed, doing your best to get comfortable as you wait for a reply, all thoughts of getting dressed further had been pushed to the back of your mind. You grin to yourself when you receive his reply.

> I am very keen sweetheart 😉 I don’t think that’s exactly been a secret though has it? 

> I won’t bore you with details, but I’ve been dragged to some stupid party by a friend of mine. How about you? What are you doing right now? 

< Very true Dean, you’ve got me there. Subtly is not exactly your strong suit 😂

< Aww you poor baby! I told you, you should’ve stayed here… As it happens I just had a nice hot shower and now I’m laying in bed texting you 😏

You can’t help but giggle to yourself as you hit send, and you almost immediately see those little three dots appear on your screen to tell you he’s replying. He wanted you to distract him, you’re pretty sure that did the trick.

> You’re such a little tease sweetheart. And not to be that guy but… what are you wearing?😏

< Oh wow 😲 I am shocked! Such a pervert Dean! 😜

> Don’t pretend you don’t love it and there is no way you’re surprised by that! 

> And you didn’t answer the question princess…

You look down your body and smile to yourself, feeling a blush burning it’s way across your skin as a thought comes to mind. You’re interested to see just how far you can push him, before he snaps and decides to do something about your teasing. There’s this strange pull you’ve always felt towards him, even if you’d tried to deny it. But since the two of you had kissed that feeling is so much stronger, and dare you admit that you have feelings for a man you can never really have. Soon enough he’ll be leaving your life to take over a business, he’s already told you this can only last a limited time, so why are you so disappointed? You try to ignore the uneasy feeling and decide to lose yourself in the moment, and quickly type out your next message. 

< Hmm, I guess I didn’t answer… But I’m sure you’d be terribly bored looking at me right now. After all, I'm only wearing these red lacy panties and matching bra, all alone in bed. It’s very boring 😋

> Fuck sweetheart. Are you a constant tease? 

> Can I at least get a sneak peak? You gonna show me what I’m missing? 

You bite your lip and squeeze your thighs together. You’d never done anything like this, you’d especially never sent anyone a picture of you like this before. But you don’t want to tell him that. You don’t want Dean to think that he is pushing you in any way, because the truth is you’re tempted to send him what he wants and so much more.

< Hmm… maybe you could try and persuade me to show you. But what do I get in return?

You’re a little nervous as you hit send, but to your surprise his reply is almost instant.

> I’m sure I can find somewhere private to show you just what you do to me sweetheart. 😉 I’m just betting that the real thing looks even better than what I’m imagining right now. Haven’t stopped thinking about that perfect little mouth of yours since I dropped you off, I was hard as a damn rock driving here. 

Swallowing thickly as you reread the message for the third time, you can’t help but whimper as the thought of him between your legs rushes through your mind.

> Mmm you’re thinking about it right now aren’t you? Getting yourself all wet and worked up? All I could think about was dragging you into my lap and making you squirm 😉

“Shit,” you whisper aloud to yourself, feeling the blush rising in your cheeks, as you see exactly what he’s describing playing out in your mind, almost mixing with your real memories in that front seat. Chewing your bottom lip, you shakily type out your reply.

< I haven’t stopped thinking about it. Almost had to touch myself in the shower because I was thinking about what we could’ve gotten up to, about what I wish would’ve happened. 

< I bet you’d love to know just how wet I am right now? 😏 Well so you know… I think it’s safe to say these panties are ruined now 😏

> Fuck baby. Come on, show me. What I wouldn’t give to have you in my lap right now, need a bit of help to hide just how fucking hard you make me. Instead I’m improvising. I’ll bet you could give me something to focus on, not that it would make my current situation any less obvious 😉

You wish you were with him right now too, just thinking about the fact that he’s hard because he’s thinking about you, and that has your mind running a mile a minute. What was he thinking about? How was he imagining you? What would his reply be to a sexy picture from you? How hard could he make you come?

Nerves grip you tightly as you change onto your camera app. You adjust yourself slightly in bed, wiping your sweaty palms on the duvet as you do. You decide you want to keep your pose as simple as possible, since this is your first time. You find the best angle to take the photo, laying on your back slightly off to the side, you snap several photos and then decide to go through them. Surprisingly you manage to find one you’re happy with. You can see your lingerie perfectly, every one of your curves accentuated just right, and the photo starts at your clamped together thighs, where you can see your thumb tucked into the waistband of your panties, pulling down the edge teasingly, and goes no further than you biting your lip. So at least your face isn’t visible, you don’t need this photo coming back to bite you in the ass if the worst comes of it.

Before you can change your mind, you hit send, and you feel like you’re holding your breath from the moment he receives the message up until you see those little dots appearing. You feel your heart starting to race when those dots appear and disappear several times. Before you can type out another message to ask if everything is okay, you hear your text tone sound repeatedly.

> Son of a bitch! Where the fuck were you hiding all of that? 

> You naughty girl 😉😏

> Fuck I always thought you’d look hot in red. Guess that’s my suspicions confirmed. I’d  literally kill to bite that lip of yours right now.

> Sorry about the delay. I had to hide in the damn bathroom, you got me fully worked up now. Couldn’t hide this if I damn well tried 😜

You can’t help but giggle at the onslaught of messages, but there’s no denying the blush that stains your cheeks. You weren’t expecting that kind of reaction, not from someone like Dean, who had no doubt seen it all before. Not that there’s any part of you that’s complaining.

< Very glad that you approve, Mr Winchester. Should I be expecting some sort of retaliation then? 

> Mmm baby girl, you wanna see what you do to me? How fucking hard my cock is right now… thinking about being anywhere near that sweet pussy of yours.

You whimper at the mere idea of his hard cock being within touching distance, and another wave of arousal washes over you. You’re not sure if you’ve ever been this wet in your entire life.

> Yeah, show me baby, please 😏I want to see what I’m letting myself in for. Wanna see just how bad you’re gonna ruin me for every other man. 

Less than a minute later your phone pings, and you open the message immediately, feeling like you’ve swallowed your tongue and lost the ability to breathe, all in the space of ten seconds. His cock is fucking perfect, just like the rest of him. One of his big hands is wrapped around the thickness, and God, it’s thick. You back arches at the mere thought of him being inside you - you’re pretty sure you’ll be able to feel him inside you for weeks after you have him. 

< Jesus, Dean! Where the hell have you been hiding that!?

< You’re so big baby, you’re gonna be a tight fit. But I can’t wait to watch my pussy stretch around your thick cock. You gonna be rough with me Dean? Make me scream? 

Those dots are back and your heartbeat is in your throat, you can feel the throb between your legs becoming increasingly uncomfortable.

> Such a filthy little mouth. Oh I’ll be rough sweetheart, don’t think I’ll be able to stop myself. Can’t wait to hear you beg for my cock, bet you’re gonna sound so pretty. But I’m not gonna give it to you… not straight away 😏

You quickly force yourself to type a reply, but that’s interrupted when your phone starts to ring in your hand. You hadn’t realised before but your other hand is pressed between your thighs, resting against the thin soaked lace of your panties.

Your breath catches in your throat as you answer the phone and hear his deep breathy voice on the other end.

“Sweetheart? You there?” his voice is ragged, and almost desperate as he speaks.

“Dean, I need you. Come back please? You look like you could use some help with that very big problem,” you moan, barely even recognising your own wrecked voice.

Dean groans deeply, and you hear him moving around on the other end of the phone.

“I can’t baby, I told them I’d stay another few hours. But I promise you the second I get out of here, I’m all yours.” 

You sigh and push down the grumble of disappointment. 

“It’s okay, I get it, I won’t hold it against you,” you giggle, hearing him sigh in what sounds like relief. “What? Did you think I was gonna throw a bitch fit?”

“Honestly, I wasn’t sure. I wouldn’t blame you if you did, but it didn’t really seem like your style. Thank you for understanding, I promise I’ll be there as soon as I can get away,” he assures you, and you can tell he feels guilty, which of course is madness, he has no reason to feel that way.

“Don’t worry, have fun! Besides it’s not like you’re my real boyfriend, I don’t expect you to ask how high when I say jump,” you laugh, but very quickly you feel like you’ve said the wrong thing.

His laugh is humourless and his reply is very clipped and stiff.

“Yeah, guess you’re right. I’ll see you soon, sweetheart.”

The phone goes dead, and you can’t help but worry as you stare at your phone like it just burned you. You sigh, feeling so many mixed emotions swirl around your head, from lust to disappointment and back again. You pull on your thin lace dressing gown, and head downstairs. You really need a drink to settle you somewhat, especially after all of that excitement. But you can’t help but wonder, had you just fucked up the best thing that had happened to you in months?

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[skellebonez]

Hey, hey Skelle. 41and 51 with Spider Queen/Macaque/Wukong with the three adjusting to Spider Wukong and the first two trying not to be obvious that they're having a crisis.

Oh I know these two are absolute fucking disasters after Spider Wukong happens. They are the biggest bi/pan disasters and Wukong knows it. Here is some very important artwork that you need to be aware of (because I use them as references).

Spoilers for, well. Everything.

Can you teach me how to do that?/Can you two save the kissing for later?

"You did this," Macaque said bluntly to the Spider Queen, not taking his eyes off the display in front of them. "You did this and I don't know whether to thank you or hate you."

"I am aware," she sighed, only looking away to look down at the four armed and four eyed spider monkie beside her. "Is this a formal complaint?"

"Take a wild guess," Macaque managed out out, resting his head in his palm as he tried to stop the swishing of his tail.

"You're hopeless."

She turned back to watch Sun Wukong effortlessly move things around his island. It was always easy for him, it would take no effort for the Monkey King to move a tree with one hand. Except now... now he was a six armed and massively tall Spider Monkie just like Macaque. Only taller. With two more arms.. And always shirtless. And as he displayed this massive amount of strength he was gently grooming one of his many monkey subjects so carefully in his extra arms.

A dangerous sight for his two partners to behold.

~

Things had calmed down a lot since, well, everything that happened. Most of their lives were much less hectic with Spider Queen and her family combining with Team MK and the White Bone Spirit finally dealt with.

But that didn't mean they could afford to just relax all the time. There were still enemies out there, more so with the side switching and the reveal of MK being Spider Queen's son, and given the transformations both immortal monkies went through they needed to stretch and move around to keep themselves in decent shape. So that was how they found themselves in a light sparring match, working out excess energy and finding it more enjoyable than they had in centuries.

"You're getting rusty, Peaches!" Macaque teased, using his four arms to cartwheel sideways and then backwards with much more ease than he ever had before. "Come on, you have to have some kind of trick up your non-existent sleeves!"

Spider Queen watched from the sidelines in the shade, shaking her head at the terrible banter. "Speak for yourself."

Wukong didn't say anything, just smirked and rushed at his partner. Macaque strafed to the side, easily dogging the kicks and punches and finding himself let laughter bubble up as the fight continued. It had been so long since their last spar and he felt almost as good as he had ever been!

And then Wukong gently grabbed his face.

Distantly he felt four hands wrap around his four wrists and that was all the warning he got before Wukong flipped them sideways and Macaque landed backwards in the dirt.

He froze, the six armed spider monkie's top set of hands cupping his face like it was made of glass. He was suddenly very aware of exactly how close the other's face was to his own, how the lighter hair of his sideburns blended into his regular hair now, how bright green the other's eyes were and how wide his pupils were (was that normal? he couldn't think well enough to remember), and how excessively tall he was. He was so tall.

"I win," Wukong announced, hands now cradling the back of Macaque's head to keep it from hitting the dirt and wrists still held captive in his hands. He chuckled as he rolled them over again, so easy and so strong and Macaque felt like his own limbs were putty as Wukong sat back against a nearby boulder. He only watched with a wry smile as Macaque fell forward, hand out between two of his own arms to catch himself before he face planted into the other's chest. He felt Wukong let his wrists go, his middle arms on either side going to rest on his waist in some fashion and one of hi lower hands running up and down his back with claws digging through the coarse fur.

He didn't move the hands cradling his face.

"You're cute like this, you know."

Wukong said this with a soft low chuckle, and Macaque tensed up as he felt the taller's hand move from running along his spine to trail up the back of his tail from base to tip. His now massive stature making this a much easier endeavor, especially when Macaque's traitorous tail lifted of it's own accord to meet the touch against it.

All Macaque could do was tense as his fur poofed up, ears flared out, face flushed red, and an odd choking noise that sounded like it was mixed with a deflating tire escaped his mouth.

"Oh no... oh no, he has it baaaaaad," Spider Queen breathed from a distance, unable to hide the flush of her own face. "I made him more powerful... he's doing this on purpose, I know it."

Eventually Wukong stood the two of them up and had to run off to take care of some of the baby monkeys on their island home, leaving Macaque to stand there. And watch. As he left.

Then he immediately covered his face with his hands and screamed into them.

Spider Queen snuck away from Macaque later in the day, finding the courage to ask Wukong "Can you teach me how to do that?"

He laughed but obliged.

~

Spider Queen wasn't unused to moving around on her real legs, she'd done it before. Like when she had tricked Pigsy (and Tang by association) at the food market that long long time ago. But she had relied on her mech so much since then and had been ripped from it so violently, torn from it in a way that wasn't supposed to disconnect her from it at all, and then spent so much time in... whatever plane she was trapped in within the Trigram Furnace that walking again was difficult at times.

Then again... maybe if she hadn't insisted to herself that she needed to wear longer dressed and massive pumps and wedges and heels to make herself taller, so that she wouldn't have to crane her neck to look at her partners and so they wouldn't have to strain their backs to look at her... maybe she wouldn't be in this position.

Not that she was complaining. Oh no. Complaints about this exact scenario left the second it started.

She'd followed at least some of her partner's insistence that she stop wearing stilettos until she got the hang of safer heels. She was wearing wedges this time, still tall and extreme and probably not the best for someone still recovering. But she managed well enough.

Until she stumbled standing from the stool at Pigsy's, her legs more tired from the walk then she had expected.

It almost felt like it happened in slow motion. She was headed face first toward the floor. Then two arms grabbed her from behind, then another two, then when her momentum stopped a fifth and sixth brushed her hair away from her face as Wukong stood her up back onto shaky feet.

"Are you alright?" He asked, his grip loose but not entirely letting go yet. "Do your legs hurt?"

"N-no," she stuttered out, trying her best to keep her face impartial and to not let the blush forming take hold. "They're just... tired, I suppose."

"That's good," Wukong said, shaking his head after a moment. "Well, it's not good they're tired, but still. How about I help you get home?"

"UH... ok?" She said softly, and instantly she was off the ground.

And Wukong was off the ground.

They were both off the ground, the Monkey King lounged lazily on his cloud and Spider Queen cradled carefully in two of his sets of arms with her head resting on his chest. And... oh no. This was nice actually.

She felt her face flush more.

"Comfortable?" Wukong asked, tone low and soft with a smirk on his face as he moved it closer and she knew that he was doing it on purpose again. His pupils were oddly dilated as well... spiders and monkeys didn't do that, they weren't cats, but this was the monkey king and demons purred so... who knows.

"Yes," was the high pitched squeak that escaped her, and who knows what would have happened if a loud cough had not sounded from Pigsy.

Oh right. They were in his shop still.

"Can you two save the kissing for later? When you're not blocking the entrance to my shop, maybe?"

Wukong only laughed and zipped out of the store on his cloud, hugging Spider Queen more firmly against his chest.

... she needed to wear even more heels if this is where it got her.

~

The two were pressed into and laid their heads on either side of the partner's chest, the couch almost just a smidgen too small for all of them. But Wukong had fallen asleep in between them and they didn't have the hearts to wake him up. His head rested on one of his top arms, the other lazily slung over the back of the couch, while the other two wrapped around Spider Queen and Macaque softly.

Protectively.

One of Macaque's own arms was reaching over to hold Spider Queen's hand softly.

"Thank you," Macaque said after a moment. "I am with drawing my formal complaint."

She couldn't help but laugh.

[dongofthewolf]

Everything in Between- Chapter 1

Abby Anderson x Fem!Reader

The reader stumbles across Abby one sleepless night and can’t help but become an absolute stuttering mess.

Warnings: swearing, mild violence, fluff, bad grammar lol

I’m extremely new to this so please be gentle T-T

Read chapter 2 here !

The first thing that you always noticed about a person was their eyes (it’s cliché you knew that, but you really couldn’t help it), and anyways… that was the first thing you noticed about her. The first time you saw her it was pouring outside; the kind of pouring where it got dark at 5pm and the reflections in the puddles on the pavement—partly distorted by the heavy raindrops—looked like fun house mirrors. It was brief and she only passed you for a second, but the clouds that were concealing the sun left a shadow of darkness in the air and in her eyes. Making her regularly blue eyes a much darker shade from the lack of sunlight, a blue that looked like the part of the ocean you can see from the shore but avoid from fear you may drown in it. 

You had forgotten your umbrella that day leaving your hair drenched, you were shivering from the cold and desperately made your way to your room as quickly as you could. But as you hastily walked with your head down in an effort to conceal your eyes from the raindrops, you bumped into her. She was a lot taller than you and was incredibly built, she had her long blonde hair in a neat braid and was wearing some simple cargo pants with a grey sweater. She was also carrying some bags but you were walking too fast to really get a good look at them. Although this was the first time you had seen her and it was only for a moment you’ll never forget those eyes, those dark blue eyes that made it seem as if she was hiding from something. That was the first time you saw her but it certainly wouldn’t be the last.

It was stormy again but at least today you were inside, the howling of the wind against the windows woke you up and when you glanced at the digital clock it read 2:30. You always had trouble falling asleep again once you were woken from your slumber, and found that you required at least an hour before you could actually sleep again. Since it was so late though you figured that the cafeteria would be empty and you could grab a cup of tea before going back to bed, you also often sat in the commons room to read because it’s pretty isolated from the rest of the place and very seldom did anyone else sit there too. 

You pulled a black crewneck over your messy hair and put on some slides before making your way down to the cafeteria, the hallways leading up to it were lit with fluorescent lights that burned your eyes when you stepped out of the darkness of your room. It was surprisingly silent (with the exception of your footsteps of course) and after living in a place constantly occupied by so many people for so many years, it was a rare occasion to find some peace and quiet; an anomaly that still surprised you to this day. 

The cafeteria was nothing special, there were 30-40 folding tables lined up near the big tear stained windows and next to the kitchen there was a communal fridge with a basket of fruits no one dared to touch. Cabinets lined the whole half of the room and you reached into the second last one to grab some chamomile tea before setting the kettle on the stove. 

You sat by the windows while you waited for the water to boil when you saw a strike of lightning, it was purple and quickly followed by a large cracking noise which weirdly enough didn’t quite startle you. You supposed that after all these years of living in a place that is universally known to rain more than anything, you become accustomed to the crashing sound of thunder and the sudden flashes of lightning. Plus, it’s a lot better than the sound of guns going off or those dreaded clickers that haunted your nightmares. So consumed by your thoughts you hadn’t even noticed the whistling noise coming from the tea kettle. It wasn’t until you heard an unfamiliar voice that nearly made you leap out of your skin, you turned around and standing there was the very girl you had briefly seen that rainy afternoon just three days ago.

“You gonna get that or should I?” She was wearing some grey sweats and a khaki tank top that showcased her huge biceps, you admired her toned forearms, unable to form any combination of words that wouldn’t make you sound like a complete and utter idiot. She must have noticed you staring though because she repeated the question with a raised eyebrow and a small smirk. “Hello?” She asked.

“Right… sorry” you immediately responded. You laughed nervously and hurriedly ran to the tea kettle, a small blush forming on your cheeks as you removed it from the stovetop. While pouring the hot water into a small cup you quickly threw the tea bag in so she wouldn’t notice your shaking hands, as you threw the bag in you quietly ignored the quickening beat of your heart. At this point you couldn’t tell if the shaking was because you were startled by her sudden presence or if you were nervous because of the literal goddess staring down at you.

“Sorry again about that I was just distracted.” You looked up and she was studying you with those same blue eyes, the intensity from her gaze made you ramble on.

“Did you want some tea? I accidentally boiled too much water, I guess eyeballing measurements just isn’t my forte.” You chuckled again, clearly flustered by this gorgeous woman looking at you in your damn pajamas. Somehow even at two in the morning she managed to look effortlessly beautiful and you couldn’t help but be fiercely jealous of her overwhelming confidence. Up until now, no one had ever had this effect on you, then all of a sudden this stranger looks at you once and BOOM you’re a stuttering mess.

“Sure, does this place have any chamomile tea?” She said nonchalantly while grabbing a chair from the stack in the corner. She sat in it backwards with her arms resting on top of the chair and you flashed a glance at her toned forearms “holy shit is she strong” you thought.

“Yeah, I’m having some too actually.” You poured out the tea and sat down across from her, this was the first time you had actually been able to really see her and you were in awe of how gorgeous she was; Her hair was in a simple braid which had a few strands astray (most likely from sleeping in it) and she had these adorable freckles that spread from her face all the way down to her arms. She was staring at her cup with those same intense blue eyes—this time the fluorescents adding a tint of green to them—she looked like a statue that was literally sculpted by the Gods and you couldn’t take your eyes off of her. As you looked down at her calloused hands that were cupping the warm ceramic cup, you noticed that they were a lot larger than your own, but they also had a delicacy to them; the kind of delicacy that deserved to be in a museum. Every aspect of her was absolutely perfect and never in your life had you seen someone like her, you were struck with this sudden need to know everything about her (even though she didn’t really seem like the chatty kind). Consumed by the essence of her beauty and strength you almost hadn’t realized that she was talking to you, and “oh God” You thought “I was staring again”.

“So uh… what’s your name?” It was obvious she was trying to fill the silence but there was a softness and kindness to her words, almost as if she was trying to appear harmless. 

“Y/n and yours?” You replied in the calmest way that you could even though your hands were shaking like crazy, you gripped on to your cup for dear life hoping she wouldn’t notice. You were always so terrible around new people and now with the combination of not just a complete stranger, but an incredibly charming and attractive stranger? You were surely doomed.

“It’s Abigail but you can call me Abby, most everybody does.” She was clearly not oblivious to your nervous manner (and your staring) but she pretended not to notice, probably to spare you the embarrassment. Having people stare at her was nothing new to Abby and honestly, she liked it. She felt powerful and strong when men were intimidated by her, but the way y/n was staring at her was different. It certainly wasn’t fear because despite the shaking of y/n’s hands that she tried so desperately to conceal, she didn’t look at Abby with fear “Perhaps it was admiration?” Abby thought. But she soon nudged any ideas of romanticism from her mind figuring that y/n was probably into those douchebags who act cocky and disrespectful but are too chicken to ask a girl out; Abby despised disrespectful people. However, if there was anything that Abby hated more than disrespectful assholes, it was embarrassment. Abby’s confidence was one of her greatest strengths, it was like a shield she put forward that helped her endure the incredibly misogynistic environment she lived in. She figured that the staring was just intimidation. Abby was quite confident in her ability to judge a person’s character and brushed any thoughts of attraction to the back of her mind, not wanting to risk the possibility of rejection or being wrong. 

“So what brings you to the cafeteria at this fine hour? Besides the tea of course.” She smirked, her smile was so infectious that you couldn’t help but smile as well.

“I woke up and couldn’t go back to sleep, figured I’d drink some tea and read for a bit in the commons room. Better than laying in my bed and staring at the ceiling for an hour I guess.” You stopped yourself before you could say something stupid or embarrassing. “What about you?”

“I just got here a couple days ago and I’m a pretty light sleeper which normally would be fine, but that damn thunder won’t shut the hell up!” She pointed her fist to the sky dramatically and you couldn’t help but giggle, she looked at you with a smile. “They stationed me here to do some work and I haven’t had much time to myself, they gave me some time off tomorrow and now thanks to this storm I’m gonna spend it passed out in my bed.” She paused, contemplating her words before continuing. “I’m glad I met you though, late nights are much better with company.” You could feel a heat trickle to your cheeks. “So what are you reading?” 

“Pride and Prejudice” You answered excitedly. “It’s my favourite book, I’ve read it like a hundred times. I guess I’m just a sucker for cheesy love stories” She grinned.

“It was good but Elizabeth? She was way out of Darcy’s league, I mean yeah she had pride but Darcy was prideful and snobby.” You giggled at her response and the thought of this tough and brawny girl reading Jane Austen. “I mean, if you’re gonna have a terrible character trait just choose one. Not both!” 

“Okay… But you gotta admit they were perfect for each other” You added. “Their weaknesses complimented each other and then their strengths the same. It’s like they were meant to find each other, and I mean just the thought of something like that gives me hope you know?” She looked at you with a raised eyebrow, urging you to elaborate. “Soulmates, I mean… just the thought of there being one single person on this entire Earth who was put here alongside you, the perfect match who’s strengths compliment your weaknesses and vice versa makes me feel some sort of hope.” You felt yourself getting carried away and decided to let her speak. “What can I say, I guess I’m nothing if not an optimist.”

“I get what you mean but I feel like that’ll just set you up for disappointment. There's so much more to life than just love and finding your ‘soulmate’. There’s thunderstorms, books, good food, there’s family and friends, and strangers that make you tea.” she glanced at you and your heart skipped a beat “this is insane!” You thought “Not only is she totally gorgeous, but she’s smart and funny? God she’s so perfect I think I might melt where I stand”

“Fine, fine, you got me there.” You smiled and was struck with this sudden feeling of security that you’d never felt before Abby, and though you’d never really admit it, you realized that all this time living in a facility had made you really lonely. Speaking to Abby was seriously the first time in this place that you weren’t thinking about the end of the world or crying over lost family and friends. At this small fold-out table in this dull and dreary cafeteria, you felt the first modicum of safety that you hadn’t felt for a really long time, and it was all because of her. You noticed that your mind had wandered off again of course but Abby’s mind seemed to be elsewhere as well, she had an almost nervous or unsure look on her face.

“Hey, so I know you said you were gonna go read in the commons room but do you think you could ditch Elizabeth and Darcy for a bit? I haven’t really gotten a chance to see this place and I was hoping you could maybe give me a tour.” Abby asked in a casual tone, hoping y/n wouldn’t notice the slight nervousness in her voice. 

“Of course! I’d love to show you around, though there isn’t much to see other than empty halls and abandoned rooms” You replied enthusiastically. You were ecstatic, she was the first person you had really connected with in a while and you jumped at the opportunity to spend more time with her.

“I don’t mind, as long as I have you to keep me company.” She winked at you and smiled warmly. You felt your heart skip a beat again “Is Abby flirting with me?” You thought. “Nah, probably not” She was the coolest and most beautiful girl you’d ever seen. What would she see in you? Plus Abby probably isn’t even into girls, she’s just being friendly.

You walked her through each of the empty halls and corridors while you guys chatted about books, friends, family, life before the outbreak, and everything in between. You even traded embarrassing dating stories in which you both had to stifle loud outbursts of laughter so you wouldn’t wake up the rest of the facility. While you were speaking about your various dating escapades you decided to sprinkle in a story about a girl to see Abby’s reaction.

“Okay okay I got a good one, so once I was dating this girl and we actually moved in with each other like a month into the relationship but that’s not important. Anyways, so I had this cat right and when we broke up a few months later and she moved out, she took the cat!” You both bursted out laughing. “She literally stole my cat and I was so pissed that I keyed ‘thief’ into her car.” 

“Remind me not to piss you off y/n, you’re a vengeful one.” Abby chuckled and responded casually. You were slightly unsatisfied, she hadn’t reacted to that statement (or any of the subtly gay references you made) at all and you couldn’t tell if it was because she liked girls or because she didn’t care. It didn’t really bother you that much though because this was the most fun you had had in a long time. When you were laughing and talking with Abby all the thoughts about your family and impending doom—thoughts that were once constant—had begun to fade away. All that mattered now was Abby, she was the best thing that had happened to you in a really long time and you were so grateful to have met her.

By the time you guys had decided to depart it was six in the morning, Abby walked you back to your room and you couldn’t help but feel like every atom in your entire body was vibrating. 

You had spent an entire night with this amazing girl who was now the first friend that you’ve had in a while, your cheeks were bright red and your heart felt like it was shaking. When you laid your head on your pillow to sleep you couldn’t shake the thought of those brilliant blue eyes, and that clever, knowing grin that made you melt. God, and you couldn’t forget those gigantic biceps, you just wanted her to crush your skull with those beautiful, freckled arms. You adored her, and as you drifted off into a deep and peaceful slumber you dreamt of the most incredibly gorgeous, funny, charming, and intelligent girl you had ever met: Abigail Anderson.

[lilxberry]

Fond Of This Dwarf - Thorin Oakenshield

Requested By: @heyitsgarnet​

Hi! I really love your writing! Could I request a Thorin x elf reader who's with the company? He's kind of an doushe to her but then she saves his ass from orcs or something and he's like "oh shit I'm in love." thank yooou! <3

This probably isn’t exactly what you were looking for but I think it’s sweet and does just a good a job. I’m so sorry it took me forever to finish your request, I really wish I could’ve done something for you sooner. Thank you so much for being patient 

Warnings: Probably a bad word somewhere lmao. I guess racism??? Angst. Fluff. Mentions of war and death. Pretty much it, I reckon.

Words: 2,331

Parings: Thorin Oakenshield x Reader (x elf reader) (x female reader)

_______________

How on Middle Earth had Gandalf think adding you to a company that consisted of multiple dwarves were a good decision you’ll never quite know. You’re completely certain that the grey wizard knew of the dwarves hatred for elves, of course he knew, definitely explains the precautions he had taken when introducing you to those who you were to travel to the lonely mountain with.

Luckily, that hatred slowly dispersed as time passed during your journey. All the dwarves had eventually taken a liking to you, apart from the ever grouchy, complacently brooding Thorin Oakensheild. Even Dwalin had begun to be a more civilised dwarf towards you, for Valars’ sake!

The first one to show some form of kindness to you were Balin. Obviously, he had reason to be all sorts of rude and crude towards you because of your race but you figured he has witnessed enough hostility within his lifetime so refused to show any when truly nessicary.

Ori had been next. It took some time considering he was under the watchful eyes and influential words of his older brothers. Fílí and Kílí followed after that and before you knew it, they all began to follow suit.

Needless to say, you and Bilbo had no issues from the get-go. In fact, you were and still are joined at the hip. And Gandalf, well, he’s Gandalf. You’re not even sure he can actually hate anything.

The journey had been long and treacherous, but you were getting closer and closer each day, even with each and every hindrance and snag you faced. Running everyday for survival is outright exhausting but utterly needed, which is what you were currently partaking in.

“I spy-“

Ori was swiftly cut off with a collective groan from the company whilst you and Bilbo shared an amused look, no doubt Gandalf had a similar expression across his face at the front of the group.

“Not again, lad, for the love of Mahal, please.” Dwalin grumbled as he pressed his fingers against his forehead as if trying to sooth a forming migraine. Ori visibly deflates and sighs quietly, looking like a kicked puppy.

“No, go on, Ori. I’ll play with you.” He perked up just as quickly as he had been denied moments earlier. He beamed up towards you as he straightened out his posture.

“I spy, with my little eye, something…beginning with…T!”

“Tree.” The company’s response was almost automatic, the answer as clear as daylight.

You and Bilbo chuckled before you both turned your attention to the dwarf beside you once again looking down and ashamed. “Don’t worry, Ori. I’m sure as we get closer to the lonely mountain, we’ll find more things to spy.” Bilbo’s encouragement was so sweet that you just had to jump in and help brighten the young dwarfs sour mood also.

“Definitely. Don’t get me started about the endless possibilities for ‘I spy’ inside Erebor.” Ori smiled his widest smile towards you and the hobbit as the others chuckled. All finding amusement in your merriment of a silly childs’ game. All except one.

“You humour me how you would think I would allow you to step foot inside my mountain.”

All humour, all happiness quickly faded until there were scowling faces amongst everyone. You furrowed your shaped eyebrows and slowed to a stop and burn holes into the back of Thorins’ head. You shook your head and began to walk once more with haste, shouldering the rude dwarf as you pass him and race ahead of the company.

You wouldn’t admit it, not verbally, not so outwardly, but his words and distain towards you hurt, very much so. Even though Thorin has shown nothing but his dislike towards you, you couldn’t help to admire his strong will, his caring side that he had shown his kin, his handsome appearance-

-‘NO! Y/N, stop it!’ You scolded yourself mentally as you shook your head to rid yourself of those thoughts just as quickly as they had entered your mind once more. He didn’t like you, not your race at least. He made that more than obvious for you and everyone around you.

You sighed inwardly before slowing your strides, allowing the company to catch up to where you had stormed off. You could hear the scolding the few bold enough to do so were giving Thorin, though you knew that the probability of him actually considering of what they were saying were nought.

Someone, who you presumed to be Gandalf, cleared their throat, noting the proximity between you and the group now they have caught up to your small steps. The silence consumed the company as they all sluggishly dragged their feet as they trudged along, awkwardness surrounding each and every dwarf, once again, all except that stubborn royal pain in the jacksie.

“Out of the way, elf.” He spat the name of your kind with such distain and disgust that your heart panged with an immense pain, your chest tightened, your intake of breath quick and sharp. You felt the burning of tears build up within your eyes as he passed you gruffly but refused to let them fall.

You will NOT seem weak in front of people- no, dwarves- like him. Bilbo caught up to walk beside you and places a gentle, comforting hand on to your forearm, smiling up at you sympathetically. The rest of the walk was silent, that was until you all heard the shrill cry of an orcs horn.

_______________

Your lungs begged for air, every inch of muscle within your body burned and longed for rest. Fatigue was catching up with all of you and fast.

“We cannot run any longer, we must stand our ground!” You couldn’t tell if Dwalin was pleading or trying to be demanding with Thorin and Gandalf, all you knew was that his tone was as brass and harsh as usual.

“We can take them, of do you really have such little faith towards your company, Thorin?!” You huffed, clearly just as agitated and enraged as the others.

Thorin halted immediately and swiftly turned on his heel to face you, a deep, raging fire of hatred filled his gaze. He groaned in aggravation and drew his sword, ensuring the others quickly followed suit. You deeply exhaled through your nose and you spun yourself around to face the oncoming threat as you unshouldered you bow and raising it higher.

You withdrew an arrow from your quiver, quickly lining your body perpendicular towards the enemy and drawing the arrow back towards your cheek, staring down the length of the arrow. You exhaled as you released your firm grip and so, first blood had been drawn.

_______________

It was nearing the end of the gruelling battle but in truth, it was difficult to tell, exhaustion taking over every single one of the company. It felt as though the enemy just kept coming, multiplying as you take a singular orc down.

Blood coated you and the others, mainly that of orcs and Wargs alike, dried and cracked. As you took down yet another enemy, you heaved out a shaky breath, exhaling heavily with a slight groan.

You looked towards the others, all seemingly fairing well, all grouped together, all except, you guessed it, Thorin. Two orcs atop their Wargs brought the dwarf down on to the hard, filthy ground, defenceless, weapon astray. He crawled backwards, even that looked like such a struggle for him though.

The Wargs snarled and growled as they closed in on the drained dwarf, the orcs straddled upon their fur coated backs grinning wickedly. As quick as a whippet, you powered through your own exhaustion and pain and sprinted towards the predators closing in on their prey.

You released a cry of anger and frustration as you withdrew your elven sword from its place on your back before bringing it down on to the beasts head, emitting a pained whimper before it fell harshly against the floor, body now limp and lifeless.

The orc that once sat atop the dead creature stood from where it landed next to its Wargs’ corpse with a seething anger and charged towards you. You swiftly cut him down and turned your focus to the final orc/Warg duo all the while Thorin looked on with wide eyes and bated breath, watching you with a new found admiration.

Almost as quickly as the last, you had taken down the enemy and collapsed down to your knees, exhaustion washing over you completely. Your eyes squeezed tightly shut as you inhaled and exhaled heavily in repeat.

“Are you…okay lass?” Balin approached you cautiously as the others watched on, concern and their own tiredness evident on their faces. All you could offer in response was a single nod of your head.

Thorin snapped out of his reverie and slowly came to a stand, but before he could proceed to close the gap between the two of you, you raised to your own feet and began to walk away from the group. “We should keep moving. No doubt another pack or two is a day behind them.”

“Yes, Miss Y/N makes a valid argument. Come on.” Gandalf had gruffly agreed with the statement made from over your shoulder. And with that, the company tiredly trudged further along, leaving behind the corpses of their slain foes and the final dwarves’ disdain towards you.

_______________

“We make camp here.” Thorin’s authoritative command travelled throughout the clearing within trees and into the ears of the company. Pained grunts, relieved sighs and heavy knapsacks thudding against the ground were Thorin’s confirmation that he had been heard.

He dragged his feet as he walked over to lazily slump against the bark of a sturdy tree, exhaling heavily through his nose and closing his eyes, basking in the knowledge that he lives to see a new day. His eyes barely reopen as he scans across each and every member of the company. Or at least, nearly every member.

He luckily caught a smidge of your form disappearing past the treeline and his eyebrows furrowed together in confusion. Surely you were tired? You had to be from all the walking and fighting you’ve done. Why would you head off away from the others?

With a huff of air, he pushed himself from his leaning position against the sturdy trunk and headed off towards the direction you disappeared in. Thorin kept himself quiet as he walked weaved passed trees, his strides small and light footed. He came to a slight clearing which was perfectly illuminated in the moons light, a heavenly glow across the small, vacant area.

And then he spotted you.

Sat precisely in the centre of it all, eyes softly closed, eyelashes resting on your cheek ever so delicately, the light breeze brushing your hair back from your face, a face that, even though is covered by the dried and cracked crimson smears, looked fair and filled with serenity, a calmness that was affect Thorin in many ways.

He had become so entranced that he hadn’t realised that he walked out into the opening further as he stared, stared at someone who he considered the enemy for far too long, at someone who he now admired, at someone who has kindled a newfound feeling deep within him.

“Are you going to keep standing around like some lemon or are you going to join me?” the sudden sound of your voice actually caused the dwarf to jump ever so slightly, taken off guard. You peeked an eye open, finding the situation amusing at a miniscule amount.

Thorin cleared his throat and wiped his hands down his front with a tinge of nervousness before making his way over and lowering himself beside you, arms rested atop his knees. A silence that was neither comfortable nor uncomfortable passed before he spoke.

“I’m sorry.”

The simple two-word statement accompanied by his deep, gruff voice caused your eyes to widen slightly and snap your head towards the dwarf to your right. “W-what?”

“I’m sorry. For how I acted before. It wasn’t fair of me to judge you based purely off of who, or rather what, they are. I’m greatly disappointed with myself. Please forgive my ignorance.”

You were flabbergasted. THE Thorin Oakenshield, a prideful and stubborn dwarf, was apologising, hell, even begging, for your forgiveness. Thorin must’ve thought you were trying to imitate that of a fish out of water, your mouth opening and closing multiple times as you searched for the right words to proceed.

You recomposed yourself impossibly fast before flashing the sheepish, nerve wracked dwarf in royal blue and furs a kind, sweet, small smile. “It is okay, Master dwarf. It isn’t as if you had no base reason for your hatred towards my kind. Hopefully, like the rest of the company, we may put our bad blood behind us and move forward working together.”

Thorins’ sigh of relief was large and fairly loud, causing for a small giggle to pass your lips. The corner of his mouth twitched upwards and he flashed you the smallest, microscopic of smiles. “I’m glad. Oh, and thank you. For saving me.”

You gazed at him with such a soft and gentle expression that he was certain he could have melted at the sight. “Your most certainly welcome.” You pressed a chaste kiss to his hair covered cheek before ever so gently laying your head atop his broad shoulder. His whole body tensed at the actions before slowly unwinding, leaving him red in the face and bashfully playing with his fingers.

A peaceful, comforting silence quickly engulfed you two as you sat side by side, his arm now loosely wrapped around your waist, basking in the beautiful surrounding area. You weren’t sure how long you two had sat within each other’s embrace, but you weren’t one to rush a nice thing when it presented itself, so you continued in your contented bliss with a dwarf you had grown quite fond of. Fond of indeed.

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AAYYYYOOOO IS THIS AN UPLOAD??! 

That’s right ya dang bunch of cutie pies, I ain’t dead

My uploading is still extremely slow but I thought, since I’m close to being on top with my college work, I would finally finish this fic

It’s weird and probably makes no sense but it’s the best I can do with the amount of stress I’m enduring ‘cause of college so bare with me peeps

Anywho, I hope you enjoy reading this

As always, constructive criticism and requests are welcomed and greatly appreciated :D

[mediocre-writerr]

all or nothing [shelby goodkind]

shelby goodkind x reader

requested: Ohhh what about a Shelby x reader who used to be a mma fighter and one day Rachel calls her worthless and it makes her think of her father and she’s snaps and starts fighting and all of the girls are trying to break them up but reader is delirious and actually thinks she’s fighting her dad till Shelby calms her! Sorry this is really long

*not my gif*

You were always a fighter, mentally and physically. 

MMA fighter at school who was on their way to going professional. But the road getting there wasn’t easy. Especially when your dad’s your coach and that was his dream. But it failed.

You’ve managed to keep your cool here, more than anyone. Despite the boiling rage forming inside of you every time Rachel yelled at anyone in the group. Everyone was trying their best, none of you were perfect, but Rachel really believed all of you were superhuman. 

“Rachel you need to calm down.” Shelby tries to reason with the girl who was currently yelling at everyone. 

She shook her head, “No I can’t calm down. All of you are sitting on your asses while we’re here in need of building another shelter. Dot is out for the count so I need all of you to help out!” 

“We’re all tired and need a break. You pushing us 24/7 is gonna get us killed!” you yell at her, so sick of all her bullshit.

“Stop acting like you’ve done anything since we got stranded on this island. You’ve been useless the entire time! Fucking worthless!!” Rachel shoots back. 

That’s all it took for you to snap.

You wind your fist so far and fast that you don’t even realize what you’re doing, until your fist is connecting with her face. You feel a pair of strong arms, who you’re assuming is Toni trying to hold you back.

Rachel recovers from your punch immediately tackling you. Causing both you and Toni to fall onto the ground with a satisfying thump. She took a shot at your stomach and then a hard right hook to your cheek. 

You get back up on your feet, despite all of the demands to stop this fight. All of them knowing that Rachel could get seriously hurt. You knee her in the stomach as she tried to ram you back onto the floor. 

“Y/N!” Toni tries pulling you back again with the help of Dot, but all you can see is him.

“You call yourself a fighter?!” you dad yells. 

You were in the locker room after your championship fight. After 5 rounds, you lost after a knock out. 

You told your dad you were done and couldn’t take anymore, but he insisted that you were fine. So instead of going out with dignity, you were on the floor 5 seconds into round 5. 

“Dad, that girl was tough. She’s almost in the upper weight class! I told you I was done!” you try to explain to your dad. 

He grabbed you by the hem of your shirt and smashed you into the lockers behind you. You yelp out in pain at the impact on your body, making your already bruised body worse.

“My daughter is not a quitter. We do not quit because we’re done or have too much injuries. It’s all or nothing, do you understand me?” he says, in between gritted teeth.

“Yes sir.” you mumble. 

Pushing past their restraints, you keep your form up, punching her straight in the pace. She groans out in pain as blood spewed from her mouth. 

You wanted to stop, but you couldn’t. You had to finish the fight. All or nothing.

“You’re fucking worthless! You can’t do anything right!” your dad’s voice calls out to you from Rachel’s mouth.

“What did you just say?” you whisper, your sudden calmness scaring the rest of the girls.

“You’re nothing! You’re weak!” his voice ringing through your ears as Rachel’s mouth moves.

You rush towards her grabbing the hem of her tank top before punching her face yet again. Rachel starts to throw up and you wait for the puke to leave her mouth before punching her in the face again. 

Her face slowly starts to morph into your dad’s. And all you could see is his face and red. Your hearing was shot, you couldn’t hear what the other girls were trying to say. 

All you could hear was his voice calling you awful things. 

You see blood slide down your dad’s face. His head snaps back and then falls limply just for you to hit him again. 

About to go in for another punch when you feel two pair of strong arms pulling you off, but you try to charge back at him...well her. The arms pull you back even further, heels dragging along the sand, “Let me go!!” 

You look back and see Nora and Dot helping Rachel up. Leah was going through the first aide kit we found, getting everything that Dot was asking for. Rachel’s face was bloody as she could barely hold her head up.

Toni grabs your chin forcefully, but not strong enough to hurt you. She makes you look her dead in the eyes. You try to move your head, but she only tightens her grip.

“You need to calm the fuck down, “ she says teeth gritted, “Let’s go. “

She guides you to the top of the cliff with a bottle of water. Instead of giving you something to drink, she pours it all over you. You let out a yelp and groan out in frustration.

Slamming your hands down onto the hard cliff. Your bloody hands were shaking, your bottom lip trembling slightly, while your chest is heaving. Once all of the water leaves the bottle, she tries talking to you.

“Y/N...” Toni whispers.

“Don’t-please just...” your lips starts to quiver again so you clear your throat, “Leave me alone.” you say so disappointed, your voice coming out hoarse. 

“At least tell me what’s-” she begins, but you cut her off.

“Please.” you say a little more sternly this time. 

It’s obvious you were a wreck, but trying so hard to keep it together and not fall apart. Toni leaves you staring out at the ocean. You feel someone take a seat next to you and grab your hand. 

You look at the unknown figure to see Shelby staring at you. She opens the water bottle without another word, pouring water onto your hands. You hiss and she sighs gently starting to wash away the blood. 

You start to tremble in her arms and you can’t help, but shatter at that point. She was being so gentle and soft, yet everything that happened just broke you. Shelby cradles your head into her chest and just lets you cry.

As you cry into her chest she wraps up your hand using the items from the kit. She lays the two of you down onto the rough cliff and wraps your arms around her. Your whole body start to quake at the touch. Shelby pulls you closer and holds you tighter.

“It’s okay. Whatever happened back there, it’s gonna be okay.” she whispers, soothingly into your ear. 

“I didn’t want to hurt her...I just got so mad.” you sob out.

“Oh love.” Shelby says, holding you closer, if that was even possible, “It’s okay. I know you’re not like that. I know you better than that. It’s okay.” she whispers to you.

Your chest begins to slow down as the hiccups turn into normal breathing. Your face still buried into the crook of her neck. Arms wrapped tightly around her torso like she’s going to disappear. Shelby continues to hold you, drawing patterns on your back to calm you down.

“What happened back there?” she whispers pulling away from you a little, “Rachel was telling you that she was sorry, but you went off again.” 

You remove your head from her neck and look at her, clearing your throat, “My dad was my MMA coach. It was always his dream to go professional, get a scholarship, and eventually get scouted. But he tore his ACL and lost any chances at that. So growing up I was forced to fight. I didn’t want to. I would much rather be your stereotypical lesbian and play softball.” 

Shelby chuckles softly at your choice of words, before allowing you to continue.

“But he persisted on making me fight. I was probably 9 when I had my first fight. As I got older, he got tougher. He would always call me worthless and told me I wasn’t enough after one loss. He’d even hit me himself. So when Rachel said that I just lost my mind,” you explain, “Love from my dad was all or nothing. He either loved you or he didn’t. I was rarely loved by him.” 

“I’ll love you.” Shelby whispers and you look at her with wide eyes, “I’ll love all of you. All of the time. Every little piece of you, even your flaws.” 

“You will?” you ask her, your voice breaking yet again.

“I will.” she says, kissing your bruised knuckles.

[thishintoflove]

For the bobadin prompts; maybe something angsty with a little fluff?

I feel like a lot of fics don’t do enough exploration into the ‘caring Boba’ side - the one that decided ‘I’m just gonna help this random stranger save their child because why not?’ - and it always warms my heart when I find a fic that does.

Oh I feel the same way, anon! Don’t get me wrong, I love rough!Boba fics but I also truly believe that the man has a deep, caring side too. 

Here’s some soft!Boba helping Din during an anxiety attack, shortly after losing Grogu on Tython.

Boba Fett decided that he needed more information. 

The Slave I was on autopilot, headed to Nevarro at the request of the silver Mandalorian. Fennec was off somewhere in the ship, probably polishing her weapons, and Boba decided to go track down Mando. They’d barely exchanged more than a few sentences, but here he was, piloting his ship at the direction of some Mandalorian he’d just met all because he’d willingly given Boba his armor back. 

Bounty hunters lived in a world of exchanges: everything came with a price and Boba always paid his debts. The feeling of pure relief he felt at putting his father’s armor on again was so strong that the least he could do was help this fellow bounty hunter out. 

He shook his head as he quietly made his way through the passageways of his ship. No, it was more than that. If he was being honest with himself, he felt some deep, innate need to help the silver Mando due to his unique situation. He was a father and his child had been stolen. Instinct took over when Boba realized the situation, and he’d immediately offered his services to help the guy out because the mere thought of walking away knowing that he did nothing would have driven him mad with guilt. How could he purposely leave a child in the same situation that he himself had been left in? Boba Fett was not a man to leave a child fatherless when there was something he could do to help the situation. Apparently that meant he’d offer his ship and his services without thinking twice, all because the thought of separating a father and son made his stomach churn with unaddressed feelings. 

And now here he was, serving as a taxi service and a hired hand to a Mandalorian he didn’t really know or trust yet. So he needed more information. Surely Mando would be able to explain the whole situation, and then Boba could feel better about what he was doing instead of just feeling like a bit of a sucker. 

Boba climbed down the ladder into the cargo hold and immediately picked up on the sound of heavy, modulated breathing. He quietly moved toward the sound and peered among the crates to see Mando doubled over, his hand gripping at the beskar chest plate as he tried to control his rapid breaths. 

What was going on? Was Mando injured? He hadn’t seen any blood as they’d boarded the ship. Boba quickly ran through every single possibility that might have brought on this clear anguish that Mando was experiencing, and he quickly came to the obvious conclusion: the man was having a panic attack. 

Slowly, Boba approached the hyperventilating man and cautiously called out so that he wouldn’t frighten him,

“Mando? It’s Fett. Are you alright?”

It didn’t work and the man jumped anyway. He quickly whipped around and stared at Boba through his visor, one hand immediately going to the blaster on his hip. But the movement seemed to be too much for him and he wavered, gripping the edge of the crate to hold himself up. Boba quickly stepped forward and grabbed Mando’s shoulder, squeezing it in his strong grip as he helped the man sit down on the edge of the box. The gesture was meant to ground the other man, and he hoped he could convey a sense of calmness through the touch rather than frighten the man even more. A visible shudder rippled along Mando’s arms, down his chest, and through his entire body. After a few seconds, he was finally capable of taking a full breath.

“That’s right. Try to take deep breaths, my friend. In through the nose, out through the mouth.” Boba coaxed, hoping his presence was helping Mando and not adding to his stress. 

He knew what it was like to feel small and desperately alone. Being a bounty hunter was a solo profession- there was no room for long-term relationships or building bonds with others. After all his years traversing the galaxy alone, Boba was self-aware enough to know that he didn’t react to kindness and touch in the same way that most people did. He assumed Mando was the same way. The armor they both wore put out a menacing image to others, but it didn’t change the feelings of the person inside it. They were both human, and sometimes humans needed to feel like they weren’t alone in the world. 

“It’s alright, you’re safe here,” Boba continued, speaking softly as he tried to think of what he’d like to hear if he was in this situation. He’d learned the steps necessary to regain control of his mind and body under the worst of situations and he hoped his methods would work on Mando too. “You’re safe. Take all the time you need.” 

Still sitting down, Mando’s hand landed on top of Boba’s that was settled on his shoulder. He kept his head tucked down toward his chest, still concentrating on his breathing, but his hand squeezed Boba’s in recognition and gratitude. They stayed in the same position for what seemed like an eternity before Mando finally drew his head up and turned to look at Boba through his helmet.  

“Thank you,” he whispered, his voice so small and tight that Boba could practically hear the tears in his eyes, even if he couldn’t see them. 

Mando’s other hand found its place on Boba’s forearm. While holding on tightly, the younger man emanated the gratefulness he felt at Boba’s touch. Honestly, Boba was surprised that it seemed to work so well. He wasn’t exactly known for his emotional intuition, but he was pleased he was capable of calming and resetting Mando. It confirmed his suspicion that they were more alike than he originally thought.  

“How are you feeling? Are you alright?” he asked, trying to keep his voice even but a hint of worry floated beneath it.

Mando swallowed hard before answering, “I am now. Whatever you did or are doing... it’s helping.” 

He took another deep breath, still trying to regain complete control. Boba slowly ran his hand down from Mando’s shoulder toward his lower arm, preparing to pull away, but as Mando felt him withdraw he rushed to grab his hand back, ensuring they maintained contact. Boba was surprised- expecting that Mando would want the physical contact to end as soon as possible. But maybe the man was finally being honest with himself and his own needs. It’d certainly taken Boba a long time to do the same thing, and he knew this probably wasn’t easy for Mando. If the man was asking for comfort via touch, Boba was not about to deny him. 

Mando grabbed onto his retreating hand, while the other hand gripped Boba’s forearm even tighter. Boba merely nodded and squeezed back, hoping to reassure the fragile man. 

“Please… don’t leave yet,” Mando said quietly. His voice was almost pleading, surprising Boba once again. He was pleased that Mando seemed to recognize that he would not judge, ridicule or shame him for his current weakened state. There was a new feeling in the pit of his stomach too- a gratifying, contented sensation that seemed to bloom when Mando admitted he needed him. 

“Don’t worry,” he whispered, slowly reaching up to rub the back of the other man’s neck, “I’ll stay.”

Mando hummed and let his head fall forward again, and Boba imagined his eyes falling shut in relief. Boba massaged Mando’s neck, trying to stay focused on comforting the younger man while ignoring the new feelings growing in his own chest. He realized he wanted to take care of him. He’d never felt such an immediate desire to protect someone before. Now was certainly not the time to dwell too deeply on that, but later Boba would reflect on the satisfaction he felt at being needed. 

He watched Mando’s hands clench and unclench, and finally the man tried to speak again, “I’m not usually… I never…”

“You don’t have to explain yourself to me,” Boba replied, “Especially not now. I know you’re hurting.”

Mando nodded, but he glanced up at the ceiling of the ship and spoke anyway, “I had one job. One mission: to protect him. And I failed.”

His body began to shiver again, and Boba moved to sit beside him, wrapping one strong arm around the other man’s shoulders as he continued. “I failed him, and now he could be hurt or… or worse…”

“You haven’t failed him,” Boba said sternly, “A terrible accident occurred today, but you haven’t failed him and you won’t fail him.”

“But the Moff-”

“Do you want to get him back?” Boba asked, knowing the answer but wanting Mando to say it outloud. 

“More than anything,” Mando replied without hesitation. 

“Then we will. We will find him and we will get him back to you.”

Hearing the conviction in his voice must have helped, because Mando finally slumped against him, practically collapsing into Boba’s side. It was more physical contact than Boba had received in months, and he was surprised at how normal it felt-- as if it were the most natural thing in the world for this random Mandalorian to slot into his side like a puzzle piece. 

“Today, you’ve done enough,” Boba told him, hoping to keep the tension from creeping back into the other man, “There’s nothing else we can do until we reach Nevarro.”

Mando was silent, so Boba continued, “Say it with me. You’ve done enough.”

“I’ve done enough.”

Boba let out a pleased hum when Mando obeyed him. He even managed to sound sure of himself, which was definitely a step in the right direction. Boba reached down and patted the man’s knee with the hand that wasn’t still wrapped around his shoulders. He heard Mando sigh, just the softest of sounds, and Boba wished he knew what the man looked like so that he could properly imagine the way his lips parted at the sound. 

“I don’t know how to repay you. For taking me to Nevarro and for… this.” Mando said, sounding a bit more like his normal self.

“You do not need to repay me,” Boba told him, meaning every word. For once in his long life, he truly didn’t want anything in return. All he wanted was to make this strange yet familiar Mandolorian happy again. Maybe it was because he saw himself reflected in the younger man or maybe it was something more, but all that mattered was that Boba Fett was now dedicated to helping him find the foundling. 

”I will stay as long as you need me.”