#dodging while using focus sight

[mikkalia]

mini-fic! Cal and Merrin training, from Greez's POV. 1k words.

Cal and Merrin face off in a small clearing not far from the Mantis. She has a staff in hand, new and sturdy, just picked up from an outpost market, and Cal has…nothing. In fact, his lightsaber sits next to a nonchalant Cere, who’s scrolling through a holopad, seemingly unaware that Cal is about to get his ass kicked by an armed Nightsister.

Their resident Jedi Knight is a powerhouse, sure, and Greez is thankful every day he’s on their side, but without his lightsaber… Greez takes one look at the situation and decides he really don’t want to know.

He asks anyway.

“Training!” Cal says without opening his eyes. Greez isn’t going to question it. Not this time. Nope. Merrin watches Cal closely, one end of her staff buried in the soil, her hands folded on the other end so she can rest her cheek on the back of them. She waits patiently.

They all seem to be waiting for something. Even Greez, who still has no idea how this qualifies as ‘training.’ And Cere, who still doesn’t look up from her ‘pad, takes a serene sip of her drink. She’s probably using some freaky Force thing to sense what’s going on.

Cal looks like he’s meditating standing up. Deep, slow breaths. Calm expression. He keeps his hands lowered, like he’d used them to direct his breaths and then left them down on the exhale. Greez has seen Cal and Cere on early mornings, moving in sync with each other as they go through a fluid, tranquil set of movements without their lightsabers. It always started and ended with them directing their breaths like that.

Greez moves next to Cere, feeling like an intruder, but unable to stop watching.

The atmosphere is calm. Poised.

Then Cere says, “Go.”

Merrin is fast. She kicks her staff up and swings fiercely, devastating even without her magicks. She’s aiming straight for Cal’s head –

 – who doesn’t karkin’ move. Greez lurches, a shout on his lips, but Cere puts out a hand to stop him. Wait and see, she doesn’t say, but Greez knows that look.

Cal dodges without opening his eyes. Minimal movement, languid in a way Greez’s never seen before. Merrin’s eyes flash in determination and she’s quick to go in for another strike. He dodges again, body twisting, never taking more than a couple centimeters more than he needs to avoid her staff. Greez’s heart eventually calms as the two of them move in tandem. Like a dance. An elegant and mesmerizing back and forth.

It could almost be a performance. Something specially created for a dramatic stage.

Eventually, though, Cal’s calm expression starts to pinch. Mouth twisted into a grimace, sweat beads up on his forehead and darkens his training top. He falters. Dodges a second slower. Moves a little further out of the way than he was before.

Merrin swings her staff just has hard, just as fast as she has been, but Cal doesn’t dodge in time. He flinches and stumbles – and Merrin’s not stopping.

That determination slides into panic, Merrin’s eyes widening, but the momentum is too quick even for her. She tries to change the target from Cal’s head to somewhere safer, like his arm, because a broken arm is better than a broken skull, but she’s too fast and he’s fumbling and –

Just before the staff connects – it wasn’t going to make it to his arm, Greez realized with a sick horror – it flies out of Merrin’s grip into Cere’s hand. Holopad and drink forgotten, Cere twirls the staff in one hand before she plants the edge into the dirt. Greez hadn’t even seen her move. Hells.

Cal drops to the ground, heaving for breath. He groans out a heartfelt swear in some language Greez doesn’t recognize – Greez discovered early in their mission for the holocron that the kid knew way too many languages. Seriously, a kid that young, five years on a backwater planet like Bracca or not, shouldn’t know so many languages! Let alone all those karkin’ swears.

“Language,” Cere scolds mildly. Cal just groans again. “What happened?”

He props himself up on his elbows, hair in disarray and the side of his face speckled with dark soil. Merrin carefully pats the soil off the back of his head, her movements stiff. “It started to feel too easy, and I panicked,” he admits. “I started overthinking.”

“How do we fix it?”

“…Don’t do that?” Cal offers, grinning. Cere raises an eyebrow. He takes Merrin’s hand and allows her to heave him up. Greez doesn’t miss the way he subtly squeezes her hand in reassurance before he lets go. “I got complacent. If there was another opponent, I would’ve been taken out a lot sooner. It was only the Force and Merrin, and I freaked when I realized I didn’t know anything else.”

Cere nods. “In other words, you sank too deep. That’ll only be fixed with more practice. You can’t do that in the middle of real combat.”

Cal sighs gustily. “More practice,” he agrees as he holds out a hand and Merrin’s staff comes flying to smack into it. He twirls it with a flourish before presenting it in a low and dramatic bow to an amused Merrin just to make her smile. She does, helplessly charmed, before she quickly twists it into a smirk as she takes it back, a faint blush on her cheeks. Cere hides her own smile behind her hand.

“Next time, maybe don’t aim for his head?” Greez suggests.

Merrin looks disgusted by the very idea. “Then how will he learn? Training must prepare you for battle. If you do not fear for your life in training, then you will not fear for your life in true war. You will die.”

Cal laughs loudly over Greez’s sputtering. “Yeah, Greez, how will I learn? Merrin, aim for the head any time.”

“With pleasure. Someone must knock sense into you.”

Greez drags a hand down his face in despair. What did he get himself into?

[captain-hawks]

patience

soshiro hoshina x f!reader

It's more than a little difficult to hide your attraction to the Vice-Captain of the Third Division when you accidentally find yourself sparring with him in your pajamas in the middle of the night. Especially when he's wearing that goddamn shirt.

wc: 4k

c: 18+ ONLY, smut, slight power imbalance, semi-public sex, fingering, oral sex (f!receiving), edging, unprotected p in v

“You get sloppy when you’re tired.”

A knee digs into the back of your own as you find yourself pinned face down on the training mats, the steady grip of a hand trapping both of your wrists against the small of your back. The vice-captain’s voice is tinged with amusement as he lets you go, easily dodging the kick you send his way as you roll in the opposite direction and jump to your feet, breathing hard.

“Fuck you,” you pant out, though there’s no real heat behind your words.

He raises an eyebrow.

“—Vice-Captain Hoshina,” you finish, offering him a patronizing smile.

Clicking his tongue against his teeth, Hoshina begins to circle you slowly, “Officer Furuhashi had to do seventy pushups last week for that, ya know.”

While he’s not wrong about your sloppy footwork, the late hour is hardly the top contender of blame for your piss-poor performance in this impromptu sparring match.

Rather, the real issue at hand is the workout shirt that Hoshina’s currently wearing, the black, skin-tight material leaving little to the imagination as it clings to his firm, defined abdomen. 

Clad in nothing but your pajama shorts and an oversized t-shirt, you had made the mistake of slowing down to peek into the slightly ajar door to the training room on your way back to the dorms, curious who was still awake at such a late hour. Your breath had hitched at the sight of the vice-captain working through a series of complex sword maneuvers by himself, mouth going dry as you found yourself mesmerized by the sight of his bare hands and arms—features normally obscured by his suit on the field—and that goddamn shirt.

Naturally, he’d spotted you lingering and cajoled you inside, mouth curving sideways in a smirk as he reminded you of a few glaring mistakes you’d made earlier during training with the squad.

Now, your level of exhaustion is a moot point when it’s all you can do to reign in the traitorous swell of desire building in your chest as the sleeves of his shirt dig into his biceps each and every time he moves. The muscle that keeps fighting against the high neck of his shirt isn’t helping, either. 

This heady, insistent tug you feel toward him, this dizzying, smoldering attraction that has a penchant for clouding your better judgment—it’s nothing new. Your eyes developed this unfortunate habit of instinctually straying to the vice-captain the day he volunteered to give you a tour of the base when you transferred to the Third Division, a problem that only increased tenfold the first time you had a front row seat to his…competency in dual swordsmanship.

(It’s borderline embarrassing—the way even thinking about him wielding those blades sets your heart racing.)

You’ve learned to ignore it, despite the flirtatious undercurrent to each and every interaction you share.

And yet—sparring alone with him right now while the rest of the base sleeps, sweat dripping down your back as your skin burns all over with the ghost of his touch, seeing this stripped down version of one of the Defense Force’s most lethal weapons in a moment that feels far more intimate than it has any right to be…it’s difficult to remember why you should.

Hoshina uses his forearm to wipe the perspiration from his forehead, tongue darting out along his bottom lip, and a subtle shudder runs through you as you track the unconscious movement. Unfortunately, his keen eyes don’t miss the trajectory of your waning focus, and he takes advantage of the opening, the room quickly spinning as you find yourself on the floor beneath him once again.

This time, you’re lying on your back, both hands pinned above your head, his fingers incidentally laced with your own. Hoshina’s wide-eyed and panting, and you can tell you at least accomplished something—he clearly hadn’t been intending to hit the floor with you until your survival instincts kicked in enough to gracelessly drag him down on top of you. 

As you go to pull free, you find something solid pressed between your legs, and it’s an effort in and of itself to stifle your gasp at the feeling that instantly curls hotly in your gut at the friction. Belatedly, you reorient yourself to find that you had hooked your left leg around his waist during the fall, and the firm wall of muscle that you’re two seconds from accidentally dry humping is his thigh that’s slotted between your legs.

Hoshina’s face sobers as he stares down at you, and you swear you feel his fingers flex minutely against your own, his expression now unreadable. 

Seemingly continuing his earlier thought, he muses, “Well, I guess I get sloppy when I’m distracted.” Your heart thunders in your chest as you find yourself balancing precariously on the tightrope of what could very well be an incredibly bad decision. 

If you were smart, you’d let this moment pass.

If you were smart, you’d tap out and tell him you’re going to bed, letting out the rest of your frustration with a hand between your legs, your soft, quiet moans muffled by the spray of the shower water or the layers of your duvet.

But the words are wrestling their way past your teeth before you can stop yourself as you ask, “What could possibly distract the vice-captain of the Third Division?”

He laughs under his breath, and for a wild moment, you think he’s about to kiss you when he leans in, but his lips skirt the shell of your ear instead as he murmurs, “You don’t normally wear this when we’re trainin’ with everyone else.”

Hoshina’s lower half nudges you slightly for emphasis, his hands still occupied by your own, and you belatedly realize—with embarrassment—that you’re the one now essentially holding them in the grip of your fingers. However, the thought is quickly replaced by another jolt of pleasure as the movement presses his thigh just a hair more firmly against the heat between your legs.

At the slight widening of his eyes, you also realize something else—that soft, little moan in your head wasn’t so silent after all. 

He tilts his head and sighs, “You make this real difficult for me sometimes.”

You’re far too aware of every place your bodies are touching.

“What do I make difficult?” you ask carefully, surprising yourself with your boldness. 

He regards you with a look like you should already know what he’s referring to. “Ignoring the things I think about when I’m around you.”

Your mouth goes dry, a polar opposite to the arousal now soaking into your panties. “Maybe you should stop ignoring them,” you whisper before you can think better of it. 

Hoshina groans, fingers tightening around yours, eyes falling shut. “Don’t say that.”

Freeing one of your hands from their entanglement with his, you reach up, pushing his dark violet locks out of his face. “Why not?”

He leans in, mouth so close to yours you can feel the heat of his exhales as he murmurs, “Cause I might be the vice-captain of this division, but I’m not above fucking you right here on the floor.”

Heat sears insistently in your lower abdomen, and you shift just enough to press into him again. He audibly breathes out through his nose, and you tilt your head slightly askew as you stare up at him. “Are you asking me to beg, then?”

You’re suddenly very grateful to have unconsciously pulled the door shut behind you when you walked in, given that this training room can only be opened from the outside with an authorized key fob after hours.

Hoshina laughs a little incredulously under his breath, tongue curling against the inside of his cheek. “I’ll make you a deal.”

You raise a brow, imploring him to continue.

“We’ll forget about those pushups for that mouth of yours, but…” he trails off, one finger ghosting over your lips. “You don’t get to come until I say so.”

It’s instant—the way your brain briefly short circuits as you take in the full meaning of his words.

“I—what?”

He smirks. “You might be one of the most talented officers in this division, but your patience could really use some work.”

Well, he’s not wrong.

Smiling up at him sweetly, you shift so that your leg presses against the erection noticeably tented at the front of his pants. “Then teach me.”

You’re not prepared for it—the way all of the air leaves your lungs when Hoshina’s lips come crashing into yours. There’s no pretense to the way he claims your mouth, swallowing down the tiny little gasp that crawls up your throat, one hand cupping the side of your neck as the other reaches out to pin both of yours back to the floor. You push back a little, just for the thrill that arches down your spine when he tightens his grip, pinning you down even harder. 

His tongue dances along the seam of your lips, thumb stroking the sensitive spot where your neck meets your jaw, and he groans a little when you part them, deepening the kiss. A blistering wave of arousal floods your veins as Hoshina does what can only be described as fucking his way into your mouth with his tongue, and you’re helpless to control how eagerly you take him in. Truthfully, you’ve never felt quite so turned on over the taste of someone else’s saliva, so desperate to feel the filthy, slick slide of their tongue and lips slotting and tangling with your own.

It takes you a minute to realize that you’ve started grinding against his thigh, but clearly he’s well aware, because as soon as you stop, he murmurs against your mouth, “Go ahead, keep going.”

Compiling without hesitation, you drag your clothed pussy down against the friction of his leg once more, and he bites down on your lip as you moan at the delicious sensation. 

“Does that feel good?” he asks coyly.

You nod, losing any lingering senses of embarrassment over dry humping your vice-captain’s leg as you observe the way his pupils are blown wide with lust, gasping and panting as you rut against him even harder. Panties damp with arousal, you wouldn’t be surprised to find a wet spot forming against his pants, as you can already feel the surplus of sticky fluid dripping down your ass cheeks. 

You could come like this.

“Stop.”

Freezing immediately at the tone of Hoshina’s voice, you open your half-lidded eyes to stare up at him, lips parted slightly.

“Didn’t say you could come yet,” he reminds you, expression tinged with amusement. “But show me how wet you are.”

He releases your hands, and you nearly whimper when he pulls his knee away, shifting to place his knees on either side of you. He slides both hands down your sides, stopping at your hips, and he trails two fingers along the waistband of your shorts, curling one of the short, loose strings around a digit before continuing his journey down your mound. 

A hum of satisfaction leaves his lips as he feels the way your juices have soaked clear through the little cotton shorts. You whine in frustration when he drags a slow, deliberate circle over your swollen clit through the fabric, rocking your hips upward.

Hoshina looks like he wants to say something, possibly to chide you for your impatient behavior, but clearly the other thought in his head wins out when he slides his hand up the bottom of your shorts and hooks a finger in your underwear, tugging them aside. 

Despite his teasing, the pressure of his fingers through your clothing is still nothing compared to the feather-light touch of his fingers drifting down the length of your slit. 

“Fuck,” he murmurs softly in approval, sliding one digit into your wet hole. 

Your pussy spasms at the sensation, and you moan for him, which only spurs him on further, earning you a second finger. The stretch still isn’t enough, and you buck your hips into his touch eagerly. 

“How the fuck are you so wet,” he mutters, one hand slipping up your shirt to clutch your side as he pumps his fingers in and out of you, the lewd, wet squelch contending with the rising volume of your moans.

It’s impressive—how close you are to coming already with just two of his fingers massaging your slick, tight walls, his thumb barely teasing over the bud of your throbbing clit. It’s nearly laughable compared to how long it took the last man who touched you to get you off. 

“You look so pretty when you’re about to come,” Hoshina comments, curling his fingers inside of you, and you gasp.

He swiftly removes them, lips curling upward at the dismayed look on your face as you cant your hips upward into nothing, the wave of pleasure building inside of you unceremoniously crashing at the breakers before reaching the shore. 

“Hoshina,” you whimper, not caring if it sounds a little pathetic as your chest heaves.

“I thought we were working on your patience,” he replies, before sticking your fingers in his mouth and licking your slick arousal clean off of them.

The warmth stirring inside of you turns molten, and your nipples feel achingly hard against the cotton fabric of your t-shirt. When he reaches down to cup your chin, your mouth falls open of its own volition, and you don’t hesitate to take his spit-soaked fingers between your lips instead. 

“Jesus Christ,” he breathes out as you suck on the digits, a thin trail of saliva escaping in the process and dribbling past your lips. 

You reach up, threading your fingers into his hair, and you tug his mouth down toward yours. He strays off course, licking the spit from your chin and dragging his tongue across your lips. 

He follows the curve of your jaw with his mouth, lips blazing a trail of kisses down the side of your neck until he begins to nip and suck at your collarbone while his hands slide down to ruck up your t-shirt. He seems pleased by your lack of a bra, eyes darkening at the sight of your plush breasts bared before him. His fingers are precise as they cup one, thumb slowly dragging across your peaked nipple before he leans in and laps at the supple, sensitive skin. 

You arch upward into his touch, gasping out his name, and he groans, taking your peaked bud into his mouth. Despite the fact that you know he won’t let you finish, you reach between your legs anyway, keening as you dip two fingers into your empty, wet cunt while Hoshina turns his attention to filthily sucking on your other breast. Legs spreading wider against the cage of his own, you plunge a third finger in, and Hoshina makes a displeased sound, mouth abandoning your tits to trail down your stomach. 

“D’you think of me when you touch yourself?” he asks with a hint of amusement in his voice, his hands gently pulling yours away from between your legs before sliding off your shorts and panties. 

“Maybe,” you pant out, fingers now pressing down into the soft mats beneath you.

“Maybe?” he echoes, nose brushing against your clit.

He pauses, and you can feel the warm huff of air that hits your slit as you whimper a strangled “Yes” when he lazily begins to slide a single finger back into your needy cunt. 

Another fresh thrill of arousal shudders through you as he calmly replies, “Good girl,” before he spreads your legs even wider and drags his tongue through your folds.

You blink back the spots from the bright ceiling lights that dance against your eyelids as your entire body arches upward off of the mats, the grip of his hands on the globes of your ass the only thing keeping you grounded as Hoshina groans lewdly at the taste of your pussy, lapping another broad, hungry stroke, 

You’d do anything to come at this point, tears now pricking at the corners of your eyes as another blazing hot onslaught of pleasure trickles through your limbs, ruthlessly dragging you toward the edge.

He abruptly stops again, his lips covered in the slick sheen of your arousal when he looks up at you.

“Hoshina, please,” you whimper.

“Soshiro,” he exhales roughly, hips aligning with yours as he makes his way up your body to press a wet, filthy kiss to your lips.

“Soshiro,” you repeat a little breathlessly, and he kisses you again, more roughly this time. 

You can feel his thick erection as it presses down against your naked mound through his pants, and there’s little you can do to hold back your urge to roll your hips upward, dragging your wet, naked heat along his shaft. 

“Soshiro,” you say again, more desperately this time, and he groans, grinding back down against you with more fervor at the sound of his name on your lips. 

Slipping a hand between your bodies, your fingers fumble with the button of his pants, and he’s quick to take over, making quick work of the zipper. He guides your hand to his dick, wrapping your fingers around its thick girth as he asks, “You wanna feel this inside of you?”

The mere suggestion makes your woefully empty walls clench, and you can feel a fresh dribble of arousal leak from you. Giving his cock a few experimental pumps, you nod feverishly.

“Put it in then,” he murmurs, and there’s something undeniably erotic about the way he lazily stares down at you, waiting.

You guide his shaft toward your slick cunt, rejoicing just a bit in the slight shudder that wracks through him as you rub the flushed, leaking head of his cock against your slippery folds, his precum mixing with the lubrication of your wet juices.

If you thought you were desperate to come on his fingers and tongue, the heady buzz of need that’s been steadily buzzing inside of you is nothing compared to the gushing flood of desperation at the feeling of Hoshina’s length splitting you open. You’re a little too tight for him, but it feels so good—the way he replaces your hand with his own to stuff his cock the rest of the way inside of you. Your cunt greedily clenches down on each inch until you’re suddenly empty again. 

Hoshina—Soshiro—fucks like he fights: all teasing, taunting confidence. Every move he makes is pointed, purposeful. So you know he’s left you woefully empty now solely to bask in your frustrated reaction, just to hear your subsequent gasp of pleasure when he plunges back inside of you once more. 

You’re so fucking sensitive right now, it’s ridiculous—white-hot bursts of pleasure ignite in your abdomen with every little push and drag of the shape of his cock against the plush, tight grip of your cunt. 

“Fuckin’ hell,” he hisses, exhaling roughly as he pulls out of you entirely once more, firmly gripping the base of his cock like he’s just as close to coming as you are.

Leaning down, Hoshina drags his lips across yours in some messy approximation of a kiss, his breath hot against your cheek as his mouth veers off. Turning your head to the side, you nip at his bottom lip, and he molds his mouth to yours, tongue slipping into your mouth. 

Your muscles tense with anticipation as you feel the heavy weight of his cock pressing against your cunt, your ass lifting off of the mat to chase the friction with brazen need. But Hoshina’s hand slips between your bodies, fingers wrapping around his shaft, and he positions himself lengthwise with your slit. 

Any sounds of protest promptly die in your throat, only to be replaced by a wanton moan that Hoshina swallows down as he deepens the kiss while he begins to roll his hips, sliding his throbbing cock up and down through your drenched, sticky folds. 

“Oh fuck,” you gasp, fingers digging into his back as you writhe beneath him, nearly seeing stars each time the head of his dick catches against your sensitive, swollen clit.

There’s a thin line of spit between your lips as he breaks the kiss, watching you burn from the inside out with relentless, intoxicating tremors of pleasure.

“Not yet,” Hoshina murmurs, slowing the rocking of his hips as he lines himself with your quivering entrance once more. “When I make you come, it’ll be on my cock.”

When he buries himself inside of you this time, you choke out a sob, the ache between your thighs reaching a fever pitch as he stuffs your pussy full to the hilt. And you swear he must feel the way your cunt is gripping him—begging him to stay buried deep inside of you, to finally let you cream all over his cock—because he sounds wrecked as he roughly moans your name against your mouth.

One of his hands slides along your arm, fingertips lacing with yours as the other cups your breast, his thumb teasing your nipple. 

“You feel so fucking good,” he exhales, eyes wide, his hair far more mussed than you’ve ever seen it on the battlefield.

Despite the protest of your trembling, tightly-wound limbs, you wrap your legs around his waist, keening as you use the heel of your foot to press him even deeper inside of you and pant out, “Harder.”

He doesn’t hesitate to oblige, his steady strokes turning rough when he begins to pound into you, a litany of curses tumbling from his lips as your tits shake with each snap of his hips. 

You’re so fucking close—and you know he feels it, how fucking badly you want to give in to this torrential downpour of pleasure that’s threatening to drag you under.

“Come for me,” he finally commands in a sultry, gravelly tone that you’re certain will fucking haunt your wet dreams for years to come. 

It’s not difficult to obey—not when your entire body has been reduced to a dripping, trembling, desperate coil of tension, slipping along the tightrope of a tauntingly close climax for far too long. Shockwaves of the most intense pleasure you’ve ever felt grip every nerve ending from head to toe as your climax erupts, and Hoshina’s groan is downright filthy as he feels your pussy gush all over his cock.

“Shit,” he pants out, muscles tensing hard as you ride out your orgasm, eyes falling shut while your cunt spasms and contracts against his shaft. “Shit, shit.”

You’ve only just finished when he quickly pulls his cock from your quivering hole and groans loudly, barely giving his shaft half a stroke before ropes of hot, thick cum are spurting all over your bare chest, spilling all over your tits.

It’s quiet as he sits there kneeling between your spread legs, chest heaving just as hard as yours as you try to wrap your head around what the fuck just happened. Subtly, you reach down to pinch your thigh, not quite convinced your late night waltz to the kitchen wasn’t just the product of a fucked up dream. 

Hoshina shrugs off his shirt, hardly giving you time to ogle what the hell he’s been hiding beneath there before he begins wiping his cum off of your chest. When he’s finished, he stands, and you slip back into your clothes as you watch him ball up his soiled shirt and grab his jacket. 

He pulls you to your feet, and the way his hands slide down your sides to smooth down your wrinkled t-shirt is oddly intimate, his fingers straying lower to briefly toy with the hem of your shorts. Instead of putting on his jacket to make up for his lack of a shirt, he reaches around you to settle it over your shoulders, the familiar, dizzying scent that you’ve come to associate with him enveloping your senses. 

–

And when you accidentally wear his jacket to training the next morning, you find what must be a spare key card to his room left nestled in one of the pockets. 

There’s a coy smile on his lips when he spots you staring down at the white piece of plastic, shrugging before he returns his attention to the rest of the gathered officers. 

[otkuhotgirl]

─── 𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐕𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐅𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐓 .

# with monkey d. luffy.

when it came to food and you, luffy was insatiable. it was only fair that he had a simultaneous taste of both.

⎰ & KINKTOBER, day four. smut (mdni!) food play. cunninglingus. overstimulation. afab!reader. fingering.

countless of battles — from smaller to the most tremendous — had led the crew to this specific, well-common, instance. the feast thereafter. reconquered freedom that brought forth gratefulness from the common people, a convergence all but willing to offer their food and gold and music as the symbol of their gratitude. sanji’s warnings — our captain is a black-hole; marimo will empty your cellar and it still won’t be enough — more often than not fell on deaf ears, forcing your cook to retreat and relax, at least for once.

the celebration at hand had been lasting longer than anticipated: four entire days, with no ending in sight. you were used to pushing your limits, lingering regardless of the gradual tiredness, for once you announced your retreat, luffy would soon follow. and you hated the thought of being the one depriving him from the feast — especially since luffy was its main attraction. yet, apart from the monster trio with their inhuman resilience, the entire crew opted to return to their rooms in the country’s palace hours — days — prior. and you, too, were exhausted.

luffy busied himself with the locals and the buffet, so you figured it’d be easier to leave without being noticed. of course, that was far from the case. the second you started to tiptoe away, his head snapped towards you, a glint of delayed understanding explicit in his eyes.

he swallowed an entire chunk of meat with one go, burped, and announced: “I’M LEAVING!”

the locals began their failed coercion, offering sweets and beverages and first-course meals, but luffy was as obstinate as he was strong, and ignored their pleads for the sake of your comfort. however, he was still luffy. he outstretched a rubber arm, hugging an alarming amount of food and pressing it against his chest — a frosted cake the size of a human being following-in-suit — while the other arm wrapped itself around you. as predicted, when luffy pulled you towards him, the entire front of your figure was smashed against said sweet and covered in white cream. he all but laughed, licking it off your cheek before grabbing the palace’s construction and sending the pair of you flying towards it.

was it not for your presence, luffy would have taken solid hours to find the way back to the shared room. meaning he didn’t question your authority when you started to drag him, half-listening to his excited words — those a tad incomprehensible whenever he stuffed his face with the stolen food. upon entering the room, however, he at last noticed your silence, his glance a burning sensation in the back of your head.

“you’re not ok,” not a question; a statement. luffy had a dozen flaws, yet being emotionally unintelligent was far from one of them — especially when those he loved were concerned.

“i’m tired,” you mumbled, containing the urge to brush the sleep off your eyes, for your hand was smeared.

“let’s sleep then!” he beamed, shoving the food into his mouth.

his lower body remained round until the starting process of digestion. he hadn’t been able to eat the entire cake in one go — which was a surprise of itself — but perhaps he decided to save it for later. you were quick to dodge his efforts to pin you down on the bed, retreating to the corner near the door.

“c’moooon,” luffy whined, wrapping his arms around you, staining your skin and clothes further. “we need to sleep when we’re tired. and you need energy! because you won’t focus on me otherwise, and that’s no fun!”

a small smile made its way to your face, but you couldn’t help the hesitation whatsoever. “can’t do, luf. i need to take a shower.”

the whipped cream was the least of your issues. luffy had stolen a city-worth amount of food, and you were smashed right against it. from cake, to cookie crumbs, to meat and fruit juices. upon dressing yourself four days past, you hadn’t taken into account that your lover would decide to turn you into a walking buffet. the dress you wore was ruined and provided no protection whatsoever, hence why your thighs, too, were dripping with a combination of tastes.

luffy blinked, his grip tight enough to support your limp muscles. when his mind wrapped around the meaning of your words, he groaned. “but the bathing suites are on the opposite side of the palace.”

“i know,” you sighed, tapping his arm lightly so that he’d let you go. he didn’t.

“why haven’t you said so? i would’ve sent us there instead!”

“figured you’d rather wait here. there’s more space for you to eat and no vapor to ruin the cake; besides, if i had taken you with me, you’d have to wait outside, and i doubt it’d have been fun for you.”

luffy laughed, the sound of it contagious. “fun is wherever you are, silly!”

the affectionate words had you melting, but you refrained from answering, for luffy wore his usual “thinking” expression — pouted lips and narrowed eyes, nothing but an adorable sight. when his face brightened up yet again, you braced yourself for whatever plan he came up with.

“well, if you’re too tired to go there, i’ll just wipe you clean!”

“there’s not enough water or towels here—oh!”

luffy’s tongue claimed the flesh of your face, a long stripe from your chin to your temple. whipped cream stained his lips and he, too, licked it, beaming.

“you and food all at once, shishishi,” you closed your eyes as he lapped at your face yet again, coating it with saliva. “that’s great!”

he prepared his knees for a jump, his eyes aimed at the bed. you were but helpless in his embrace, and had to tug at his — freshly — dirty cheek to catch his attention.

“wait, i don’t want to stain the bed!”

he hummed. “that’s fine! i can clean you on the floor!”

as the wood for sure would have hurt you, for it was not as soft as the mattress, luffy laid you down with surprisingly tenderness, grinning to himself as he hovered above your figure. his wide eyes scanned your face and body; his mouth all but watered. it seemed as though he was conflicted with where to start.

his lips found the side of your neck, giggling as the cream and crumbs smeared his nose. luffy was sniffing you, searching for specifics. rather than to decide which part of your body to clean, he chose which food he wanted to taste first.

“found it!” he beamed, sucking on the flesh of your throat. you gasped, unable to squirm as his hands had you pinned down.

luffy hummed with pure bliss; tongue swirling and teeth scraping. he was famished, mouth wide and a cascate of saliva trailing down your cleavage as he devoured the aimed essence. luffy, then, strived to wipe the desserts, drowning his face on your neck, claiming the sweetness that lingered.

his presence ensued in gradual pressure as he lost the previous giddiness, leaning closer until mere inches separated his hovering chest from your own. he was moaning in delight; swallowing it all. without the barriers from the cream, his tongue had guaranteed access to your bare flesh, and luffy couldn’t help the constant biting, his smeared lips doing nothing to wipe you clean — having rather the opposite effect. the tiredness, combined with his touch and pleased moaning, had you growing sensible.

luffy raised his head and glimpsed at you. his lips held a tinge of chocolate, and he swiped a thumb on your skin, laughing as he smeared your lips with the cream. something seemed to have shifted within him at the sight of your mouth coated white; your tongue lolling out to clean it. his eyes glanced down to your cleavage, a finger teasing the fabric of your dress.

“i can’t clean you if you’re dressed,” he stated, toying with the straps. luffy’s fist clenched around the hem, tugging it above your head. you had raised your arms in order to be of use, and was surprised at the sudden lick of his tongue, starting on the inner area of your upper arm, reaching your wrist.

he curiously glanced at your armpit, and you dodged his attempt to shove his face into it. “luffy!”

he pouted. “it was dirty too!”

“you’re not licking my armpit!”

as expected, when one considered his poor attention span, luffy’s glance fell on your cleavage, and he hummed pleasantly to himself, groping your breasts. “found something better.”

he latched his mouth on the flesh, the loud sound of slurping commanding the ambience as he drank the fruits’ juices and cream off it. luffy pressed his knee in between your legs, applying pressure on your cunt. you mewled, trembling hands gripping his hair.

luffy’s pupils were blown when he stared at you, voice rough and demanding. “where’s the meat?”

he caressed your ankle before placing it above his shoulder, fingers tapping on it to grasp your attention.

“my thighs,” you whispered meekly.

another glance at your figure had him grinning — all teeth and lust. “your abdomen is dirty still. we can’t have that.”

you raised an eyebrow in confusion, for your dress had managed to shelter pieces of your skin from the onslaught of food. your abdomen had been the solemn spared inch. yet, luffy had outstretched his arm to grab a chunk of the cake, and he slapped your flesh with cream, smearing it all over from your ribs to your belly-button.

the forethought retort died at the tip of your tongue when his own worked its magic, wiping it off your flesh. luffy kept his knee pressed against your cunt, rutting his hips as he licked long, disgusting stripes on your front. spit dripped from your body to the ground, and you spasmed, rolling your eyes in an attempt to match his pace. luffy sucked on the flesh, grunting as he left a dozen bites, teeth digging into it and tongue soothing the maimed spots.

he trailed his mouth lower, reaching the waistband of your panties, removing his knee. you had no time to mewl at the lack of contact, for luffy began to drag his tongue along the inner thigh above his shoulder, moaning loudly as the taste of meat overlapped with that of your own sweat. he slurped as though a man starved, chasing the food juices, sucking on your thigh and dragging his teeth lower on your leg.

luffy bit on it harshly, dragging a gasp out of your mouth. he then moved towards the other leg, repeating the process with twice as fervor, though his glance was tethered to your cunt — wetness pooling through the fabric of your panties. he abandoned your thigh altogether, tugging on the waistband, licking his lips. luffy lost his patience, tearing the underwear from your body, and latching his face to your cunt.

the suddenness had you gasping; gripping his hair as a form of anchoring. luffy shoved two fingers into your intimacy, lapping at your folds as a man starved, rubbing his nose against your clit. he moaned and swallowed, swirling his tongue around the bundle of nerves, scissoring your insides. your back arched, and he observed you through his eyelashes, stretching his free hand to pinch your nipples.

luffy’s head retreated, though the ministrations of his fingers remained. he eyed the forgotten cake, eyes glinting with an idea he sure deemed brilliant. the sudden absence of him on your cunt had you groaning; begging. he all but ignored you, drowning his fingers in cream and shoving it inside his mouth, sucking on his own flesh and tasting at the merge of your essence and the dessert.

luffy beamed. “delicious!”

he fisted yet another chunk of cake, and before you could process his actions, luffy had cream whipped on your cunt, smiling to himself in satisfaction. you were given a brief second to collect your breathing before he shoved his tongue inside, pumping the cream. luffy groaned, drowning his nose amidst your folds. he dared not use his fingers, for the cream was but a blessing to his mouth. instead, he gripped your thigh, pumping his tongue inside and out.

your toes curled at the odd sensation born from the cream texture in your walls. luffy’s attempt to wipe it all; to swallow; had his tongue moving in an erratic manner, tearing a moan of bliss. he licked a stripe on your folds, latching his mouth around your clit, collecting the cream.

“it’s bittersweet,” he stated, his chin dripping down with your essence; nose stuffed with the white sweet. luffy licked his lips; cracked his neck.

a deep breath had him returning to your cunt, lapping at your folds with loud slurping sounds. he licked long, warm stripes on your outer lips.

“luffy,” you whined, tugging at his hair. “fingers, too. please.”

he complied, shoving his middle-finger inside, stretching it. you could feel it gradually fill you up; the tip curling and brushing on your cervix. you cried out the second his mouth returned to your clit, hollowed cheeks applying pressure before his tongue began with its usual swirling, the fast pace causing you to tremble; your legs a melting mess.

the finger around your nipple twisted it; the cream melted on his nose due to the warmth of your fluids.

“so good,” he moaned in awe, moving his head and nose to the sides, breathing you in.

luffy added yet another outstretched finger, pumping the pair in-and-out while his mouth busied itself with your labia. the knot at the pit of your stomach tightened and loosened; your tongue lolled out ever-so-slightly and you grew quite sure that luffy had managed to steal the movement of your legs.

“luffy—”

“i’m hungry,” he interrupted, tearing his face off your cunt for the briefest instance to observe you with a darkening glance. “serve me more food.”

you whimpered, and luffy maintained eye-contact as he swiped the last of the whipped cream from your urethra, challenging you to disobey. a broken moan bloomed at the pressure he held, and your orgasm was a devastating cascate. luffy was quick to remove his fingers and replace them with your mouth, swallowing your cum faster than it came out, chasing it within your walls with his tongue.

when he, at last, grew satisfied, he licked his fingers, staring at your limp figure on the ground. luffy hovered above you, licking your lower lip.

“love is sharing food,” he stated, lolling his tongue out to show it coated white with both the cream and your cum. “open up.”

his kiss was bruising. his covered cock rutted against your thigh. there was still some cake left — and luffy was famished.

— 🐈‍⬛ : another day, another kinktober!

[misfit0789]

Regret

Lia Walti x Reader

Summary: Lia has many regrets in life.

Word Count: 3.5k words

Warnings: Angst?, toxicity from Lia

This is pure fiction! I did make Lia is the bad guy here. Let me know what you guys think!

Twelve years.

It's been twelve years.

Twelve years since Y/n and Lia have seen each other or spoken to each other. Lia put her full focus into football and Y/n fell into the background before eventually being forgotten altogether. Y/n went on to become one of the best veterinarians in the world. Pets and animals being flown in from all over to be seen by Y/n. But Lia wouldn't know that. Y/n however knows all about Lia. She can't go online without seeing the Swiss woman's face on her social media.

The two were said to have been soulmates. But Lia let football overtake her life and Y/n paid the price. Y/n tried to move on, but Lia was one of a kind and no one has ever compared to her... Lia's parents still reach out to Y/n. The girl was their daughter's best friend turned girlfriend. They tried talking to Lia about Y/n, but Lia never seemed to listen.

That brings us to now Lia was watching Calvin with Mariona, Mariona having picked up an injury, so the couple agreed to watch Calvin while Steph was in the states with the Matilda's. Lia  had also picked up a minor injury during training, so she stayed back from national team duties this international break. Lia, Mariona, and Calvin are currently on a walk in the park near Steph's apartment.

The couple have their hands intertwined, Lia holding onto Calvin's leash, as they conversed. Lia and Mariona are so into their conversation they miss Calvin setting his sights on a bird in the distance, only realizing when his leash is pulled from Lia's hand as he takes off.

"Calvin!"

"Calvin! Get back here!" The two call taking off after the dog. They dodge and weave between the others in the park trying to catch up to Calvin. The couple moving even quicker when they hear Calvin cry out in pain. Finally reaching him they see him sitting on the ground holding up his left front paw as he cries.

"Oh Calvin, what happened?" Lia asks crouching down by the dog and trying to offer him some comfort.

"Excuse me?" The couple look to see a girl around seven or eight and what looks to be her father. "I saw what happened to him. He was chasing a bird, but he stepped on the tree branch and hurt his paw." The little girl explains, the couple glance at the father to see him nodding confirming what his daughter said.

"Thank you …" Mariona trails off.

"Rosie," The father supplies.

"Thank you, Rosie," Mariona says giving the young girl a smile.

"We better get Calvin to the doctor so they can look at his paw," Lia says, grabbing Calvin's leash. She turns to the father and daughter. "Thank you for helping us, Rosie. If you see is or Calvin here again feel free to come say 'hi'. I'm sure Calvin would love to play when he feels better." The girl gasps looking to her father, who nods a smile on his face, before turning to look back at the couple and Calvin a large smile on her face as she nods excitedly.

"Yes, please!" The couple chuckle at the enthusiasm from the young girl.

"Well, we better get Calvin to the doctor. Thank you again Rosie. You telling us what you saw will help Calvin! See you around!" Lia says leaning down to pick up Calvin, so he doesn't hurt himself further. The couple wave to the two before quickly making their way to the closest vet that Mario found on her phone.

After a quick ten minute walk the couple enter the vet office, Calvin still in Lia's arms. She gently sets him down, handing his leash to her girlfriend.

"Stay here with Calvin while I go check him in. There doesn't seem to be many people here so it shouldn't be too long of a wait." Lia says Mario nods in agreement taking Calvin's leash sitting in one of the empty seats in the waiting room. Lia moves to the reception desk.

"Uh hi, I'm looking after my friend's dog, but he hurt his paw in the park. Is someone able to look? He seems to be in quite a bit of pain." Lia explains. The receptionist nods.

"Is the dog a patient here?" The girl asks.

"Uhm, I'm not sure. Your office was the closest one to the park, so we came just here."

"What's the dog's full name? I can see if he is in our system to save you from having to fill out paperwork."

"Calvin Cately,"

"He is a patient here! The doctor is in with another patient now, but I will take you to a room to let Calvin settle before seeing the doctor." Lia nods, turning to wave Mario over. Mariona picks up Calvin following Lia and the receptionist to a room where she sets Calvin on the ground once more. "As I said the doctor should be almost done, so she'll be here shortly," the couple nod as the girl leaves the room, shutting the door behind her.

"I'll text Steph to let her know Calvin is at the vet." Mariona tells Lia who nods continuing to pet Calvin hoping to bring him some type of comfort as he continues to cry softly. The couple look up at the sound of the door opening. Lia freezes when she sees who walked in.

"I heard my favorite boy was here!" the doctor says in a baby voice. Calvin jumps up excitedly as he recognizes the voice. Though he quicky stops and cries in pain when he puts his paw on the ground. "Oh buddy, what happened?" the doctor looks up, expecting to see Steph but is surprised with who she sees instead. She schools her features to not show her shock.

"Y/n." Lia whispers still in shock. Mariona looks at her girlfriend in confusion.

"Hi, I'm Dr. Y/l/n, this I know is Calvin and I know neither of you are Steph so…who might you be?" Y/n asks, directing the question more to Mariona as she already knows Lia, kneeling by Calvin offering him pets and a treat from her pocket. Mariona, seeing her girlfriend still frozen, answers.

"I'm Mariona, this is my girlfriend, Lia. Steph is our teammate. We are watching Calvin while she is away." Mariona explains, her accent heavy as she speaks. Y/n nods.

"Well, nice to meet you. What seems to be going on with my friend Calvin here?" Y/n asks carefully taking Calvin's paw in her hands to inspect it. Calvin calm as Y/n does so, not trying to pull away.

"We were walking him in the park, but he saw a bird and took off. We chased after him, but he stopped and started crying. A little girl explained that he had stepped on a fallen tree branch after we had caught up to him." Lia explains, having broken from her shock but not breaking her stare from Y/n, observing the person she once not only called her best friend but her lover. Y/n is taller and more built than she remembers.

"Well Calvin is okay it looks like he got a splinter from the branch stuck in his paw." Y/n turns on her knees to grab the tweezers from the counter in the room. "Let me just -" Y/n carefully grabs the splinter with the tweezers, "-there!" She holds the tweezers up. The sliver of wood between the ends. "Still crazy to me how something so small causes so much pain, in humans and animals," Y/n jokes, the couple laughing. Lia looks at Y/n a sad smile on her face realizing how much she has missed Y/n.

Is it too late to start over? Lia thinks forgetting about her girlfriend who's in the same room.

"Calvin should be all set! I'll give him a small dosage pill to provide some pain relief before you take him home, but he should be back to normal in a couple of hours." Y/n explains, standing to grab her clip board she had set on the counter when she walked in. The couple nod moving to stand.

"How much do we owe you?" Lia asks. Y/n waves her off.

"Nothing, Calvin is great, and it was only a splinter so no need to charge. A nurse will be in shortly to give Calvin his pill then you guys are all set. It was nice to meet you." Y/n says opening the door and walking out. The door closing softly behind her. Lia quickly turns to her girlfriend.

"I'll be right back," Mariona goes to question her but Lia is out the door before she can.

Lia walks out the room seeing Y/n talking to the receptionist from earlier. Lia walks to the two clearing her throat to gain the attention. Both women look to Lia. Y/n looking at her in confusion.

"Uhm, Y/n? C-Can I t-talk to you?" Lia glances at the receptionist before adding "Alone?" Y/n glances at the receptionist with a look Lia can't decipher before Y/n nods.

"Sure, let's go to my office, Alex I'll be back" Y/n says turning towards her office. Lia follows nervously fidgeting with her hands trying to figure out what she wants to say. Y/n stops in front of a door with her name written on a name plate attached to the door. Photos of Y/n with various animals stuck on the door. Lia smiles seeing a photo of Y/n and Calvin when he was a puppy. Though her heart stutters at the photo of a young Y/n and Lia with Y/n's childhood pet, a sad smile on her face remembering that day well.

----Flashback----

"Y/n/n! Charlie! Wait up!" Six year old Lia laughs chasing after a six year old Y/n. Y/n giggles running ahead of Lia, Charlie right next to her barking as he tries to grab his toy from Y/n's hand. The six year old dog, Charlie, being Y/n's best friend, aside from Lia of course. Y/n's family had just adopted Charlie when they found out Y/n's mom was pregnant with Y/n. Charlie and Y/n got to grow up together, Y/n didn't know it yet but Charlie would be the reason she becomes a veterinarian.

"Gotta be faster than that Lia!" Y/n says gaining speed and growing the distance between her and Lia. Lia huffs pushing herself to run faster to try and tag her best friend.

"Girls! Dinner!" The two stop and turn seeing Y/n's mom, Jean, on the back porch, both turning and running towards her. Both smile at her, dirt all over their faces from where they were rolling in the dirt with Charlie. "What has happened to you both?"

"We were playing with Charlie!" Y/n explains, Lia nodding in agreement. Jean lets out a sigh but smiles at the happiness radiating from the girls.

"You two need to get cleaned up before you eat," Jean says, licking her thumb to brush some of the dirt off of Y/n's cheek. Y/n groans pushing her hand away.

"Mom," Y/n whines, Jean chuckles.

"Let me take your picture then you two need to get cleaned up for dinner." Jeans says. Lia and Y/n nod, sitting on the ground next to Charlie, all three looking at Jean, large smiles on their faces. Even Charlie as Jean snaps the photo. "Okay, now go get cleaned up," Jean says shooing the two off. The girls nod walking into the house. Y/n turns to her mom smiling, her hand resting on Charlie's head as the dog walks next to her.

"Mom? Can we eat with Charlie?" Y/n asks a hopeful look in her eye.

"Not tonight girls. Charlie needs to eat in his spot, and you two need to eat at the table with the rest of us." Jean explains, the two girls nod, a frown on their faces as they move to get cleaned up for dinner, Charlie still following behind.

----End of Flashback----

"What do you need Lia?" Y/n asks leaning back on her desk, her arms crossed on her chest as she looks at Lia. Lia shakes her head ridding her mind of the memory, moving to step into Y/n's office shutting the door behind her.

"Uhm, how are you?" Y/n quirks an eyebrow at Lia's question.

"Really? After all this time that's what you ask me?" Y/n asks. Lia sighs shaking her head.

"No," she breathes out, "I just don't know what to say," Lia whispers. Y/n lets out a scoff.

"You could start with an apology and an explanation." Lia looks at Y/n in confusion. "Do you know how long it's been since we've seen or talked to each other?" Y/n asks instead of explaining. Lia takes a second to think before shaking her head. "Twelve years." Y/n says. Lia takes a step back eyes widening in shock.

Had it really been that long? Lia thinks.

"Twelve years since you last responded to one of my messages." Y/n lets out a humorless laugh, "I didn't even know if we were still together. Your parents tried to talk to you, but you kept brushing them off. I eventually gave up trying with you. We had been dating for three years, best friends since we were five and you didn't even have the decency to break up with me. You just left." Y/n says tears building in her eyes as she voices what she's been wanting to for the last twelve years since Lia disappeared.

"I-I don't know why I did what I did." Lia sighs, starting to pace the room as she tries to gather her thoughts. "I guess I was scared," Lia stops turning to face Y/n who looks at her confused. "We were 18, you were getting ready for college, I was going to play in Germany, things just didn't feel possible with the distance." Lia explains. Y/n lets out a laugh, Lia looking at her in confusion.

"I got accepted to a college in Germany!" Y/n exclaims. Lia looks at her in shock, "If you had answered your phone and talked to me instead of running away like a coward, things would have been fine." Y/n says throwing her arms up in frustration. Lia shrinks in on herself at the tone of Y/n's voice.

"I'm sorry. Maybe if I never ran, things would have been different." Lia says moving to stand between Y/n's legs where she still leans on her desk, her hand coming to rest on Y/n's cheek. Y/n sighs but doesn't pull away. She needs closure on this part of her life.

"Do you regret leaving? Leaving me?" Y/n asks. Lia sighs her thumb brushing over Y/n's cheek.

"Yes. You were are my soulmate and I was too dumb to see that then. I still love you Y/n." Lia says, Y/n sighs and goes to speak but her office door slams open. Little feet barreling through the now open door as a little voice screams.

"Mama!! Look!" a smile instantly forms on Y/n's face as she pushed away from Lia to bend down and grab the little body and standing with them now securely in her arms.

"What is it you have there Lila?" Y/n asks, noticing the familiar stuffed animal in Delilah's hand, sparing a glance at Lia noting the look of recognition on her face at the item in her four year old daughter's hand.

"Auntie Val was cleaning at grandma's and found it! She said I could have it!" Deliliah exclaims, holding the stuffed bunny out in her arms for her mama to see. Y/n smiles sadly as she looks at the bunny that holds so many memories. Y/n places her hand on the bunny brushing her thumb over the patch that had to be sewn on the bunny's head from where the material was torn.

"This bunny was very special to Mama when she was little, you know." Y/n says, Delilah looks at her mom eyes wide In wonder.

"Really?" Y/n nods, sparing a glance at Lia seeing her with tears in her eyes.

"Yup, Clover was given to Mama by Mama's best friend. Clover went with Mama everywhere.  I thought Clover was gone forever. I had her one day then she was gone the next. Grandma must have found her and forgot to tell me. I'm glad she found you though." Y/n smiles, poking Delilah's stomach, eliciting a laugh from the child. That same bunny Lia had given to Y/n was meant to be passed down to their child. Now Clover belongs to only Y/n's child. Y/n has a knowing smile on her face as she hears someone running down the hall.

"Delilah! You can't run just run past me like that!" Lia looks up, her heart stopping at the sight of the receptionist from earlier, the woman looking exactly like the child in Y/n's arms, aside from a couple features that are all Y/n.

"Sorry, Mommy." The child says, a pout forming on her lips. "I was excited to show Mama the bunny Auntie Val gave me," Deliliah says.

"It's alright sweetheart, just don't do that again, you scared Mommy." The woman says moving to stand next to Y/n pressing a kiss to her cheek.

"You can't keep scaring Mommy like that love," Y/n says ruffling Delilah's hair. "Sorry love," Y/n gives the woman a smile pressing a kiss to her lips. The child gagging brings a laugh out of the two.

"I'm sorry did you want kisses too?" Y/n asks sharing a look with her wife before both lean in pressing kisses to the child's face, causing Delilah to erupt into a fit of giggles. Lia clearing her throat to hold back her tears breaks the little family from their moment. Y/n's eyes widening having forgotten Lia was there. "Oh, I'm sorry. Uhm Lia this is Alex, my wife, and Delilah, our daughter. Alex, Delilah this is Lia… an old friend." Y/n says. Alex now looks at Lia with a glare, knowing all about Lia and the hurt she had caused Y/n, compared to the sweet smile she had earlier before she knew exactly who Lia was.

"Delilah, why don't you go see Auntie Val at the front. Mama and Mommy will be there shortly." Alex says giving her daughter a smile. The little girl nods, wiggling out of her Mama's arms and running out of the room to find her Aunt. Alex shuts the door behind her daughter, walking to stand next to Y/n. Y/n sighs knowing this isn't going to end well now that Alex knows who Lia is.

"Y/n I -" Lia is cut off by Alex.

"What more could you possibly have to say to my wife? Haven't you done enough damage to her? Do you have any idea of the walls you made her build up? It took me years to break those down. You broke her and now you think you-" Alex stops her rant at the feel of Y/n's hand on her back, drawing soothing circles trying to keep Alex calm.

"It's okay honey," Y/n whispers pressing a kiss to Alex's head. Alex lets out a sigh, leaning into Y/n's side, her hand gripping the bottom of Y/n's shirt as she remembers all of the nights she held Y/n as she cried wondering what she did to lose her not only her lover but her best friend. Alex was jealous at first but she realized, even if Lia did come back into Y/n's life their relationship would never be what it once was. "Let me," Y/n whispers to Alex before looking at Lia. "Look Lia, I heard what you said but I'm sorry I don't love you anymore. I may have been your soulmate and I once thought you were mine too. But you broke me by just disappearing. You don't get to show up after twelve years and declare your love to me. Alex helped rebuild me. She brought me back to life. She is my soulmate." Y/n glances behind Lia a sad smile on her face when she notices Mariona and Calvin entered the room, "You can't be declaring you still love me, especially when you already have someone in your life." Lia turns seeing Mariona there, tears in her eyes.

"Tell me she's joking Lia," Mariona says, her voice breaking from the emotion she is feeling. Lia opens her mouth to explain but nothing comes out. Mariona scoffs shaking her head. "I left my home for you, I left the club I played at for ten years for you. I left my friends for you. This is what I get in return? You declaring your love for someone else? Someone who is married?" Mariona asks, her voice raising.

"Mario I'm-" Lia says trying to apologize. Mariona shakes her head. Y/n and Alex are sitting by Y/n's desk watching the scene unfold, Y/n feeling especially sorry for Mariona knowing what it feels like to be left behind by Lia.

"Save it. I'm taking Calvin back to Steph's, then I'll be staying with Laia until I can get my own place. We. Are. Done." Mariona spits, leaving the room, Calvin following behind. Lia lets out a sob realizing what she's done.

"I think you need to leave," Y/n says. Lia turns to look at Y/n tears in her eyes. She nods and walks out of the room making her way to her apartment she used to share with Mariona.

"I regret everything." Lia whispers as tears stream down her cheeks.

[lovesickhughes]

hi! loooove the celly concept!! could i request an affection letter with the prompt

Being playfully clingy in the mornings when one has an off day and the other has to rush to work

with jack hughes please?

thank u and congrats ! 🩷

a/n: switched it up a bit for why they have to get out of bed, hope you like it my angel! 👼🏼🤍 (not edited)

—

"Baby, please, c'mon," Jack groaned into your neck, his growing facial hair tickling against the skin of your shoulder while his warm breath sent electricity through your veins.

Lazy mornings with Jack were your favourite; the endless embraces, the sweet kisses, simply being close to each other with no other worries was something you cherished granted Jack's fast-paced lifestyle.

"Just five more minutes, then we can start our day." Jack grinned against your chest. You were laid against your mattress, your pillows propping your head beneath you as Jack was leaned into your side, arms wrapped tightly around your figure, insisting you stay in his hold.

You run a hand through his messy, brunette curls, loving the longer length he had been growing his hair to be before planting a soft his on his warm forehead.

"We got lots to do today, your parents are in town and want to meet us for lunch, and plus I wanna get some things done around the house." You pressed through a smile. The state you were in, the way Jack's cozy feel effected you, you couldn't help but sheepishly reciprocate the tight, loving embrace. Your fingers lightly massaged the thick muscles of his neck and shoulders, feeling his grin against your chest and hum vibrating through your bones.

Abruptly, he propped himself above you, hands bracing either side of your frame and you couldn't help but admire the sight before you. His eyes still sleepy from just waking up, to the stubble starting to grow against his jaw; even the freckles that were painted across his skin, you felt your mouth salivating and heart aching from how enamoured you were with your boy.

"Fine, if you're really that set on starting our day, I guess I have no other choice," he shrugged, causing your brows to furrow in confusion. You watched intently as Jack attempted to hold back a smile, and before you had time to question, Jack leaned down, his lips attacking your face. Kissing all over your skin, from the corner of your mouth to your forehead and bridge of your nose, you let out a squeal as your hands attempted to block Jack's efforts.

Although you didn't complain, you squirmed underneath his body, as his lips travelled sporadically from your face to your neck, to your shoulder and chest, then back up to your temple, you didn't know what to expect. All you could process was the feeling of Jack's lips, his chuckles and quick movements that were hard to dodge.

"Jack! What are you doing?" You let out excitedly, giggling as he continued to pepper kisses against your skin and he pulled back suddenly, meeting your eyes with such a look you could only question even more.

"This. Is. What. You. Get." He said in between kisses to your lips, and you had to focus, your attention being torn to the feeling of his swollen lips against your own, but you managed to reach your arms up to his face, stopping his attempts between your soft fingers.

"For what?" You smiled, unable to contain the utter happiness you felt.

"You want to drag us out of bed? Not on my watch, so now, you have to pay the price." He said effortlessly, as if it was expected. You opened your mouth to speak, but before any sound could be let out, he rolled onto his back, swiftly pulling your closer to him and his hands found your sides, delicately poking and brushing against your sensitive skin, making your burst out in laughter as he had found your most ticklish spot.

Between breaths, you squirmed, laughing until your cheeks hurt as Jack's own laugh echoed through your shared bedroom.

"Seriously, Jack— please," you laughed, your head falling back against the pillows. "I can't! We gotta— we gotta get up." You let out through breaths, your stomach muscles flexing at the feeling of Jack's fingers tickling you. He paused his playful torture, hands splayed against your side as his eyes met your gaze, nothing but love being shared between.

"If this is what it takes for me to get a few extra minutes in bed with you, baby? I'll sure as hell be tickling you more often." He said with a sly grin spreading across his lips. You rolled your eyes at his remark before leaning up to connect your lips to his, sharing a soft, sweet kiss with your favourite boy.

[denwritesandcries]

Sweet Doe Eyes – L.M

Pairing: lottie matthews x fem!reader

Summary: Lottie knows very well what she's doing now, this girl, with that sad little face and doe eyes, with freckles highlighted by the cold and cheeks reddened burned through freezing. She knows you will give in every single time.

Word count: 1,1k.

Content: '96/wilderness timeline, eepy!lottie, cursing, pet names, cuddling & snuggling, kisses, van being a little shit in the background.

Note: FINALLY got to write for the biggest loser of the yjs. i love her so much.

English is not my first language.

You are supposed to be chopping wood.

Supposed is the key word here.

Normally this task didn't take up so much of your time, you ended up getting used to it, living in the wilderness for so long now. You could perform the same exhausting, repetitive movements with your eyes closed right now if you wanted.

“Baby, when're you gonna come inside?”

It turns out that the damn hatchet was blunt and everything in this place seemed to be a thousand times more difficult when done in winter, your warm body was now beginning to tremble in contact with the blizzard that was beginning to fall and your girlfriend was impatient.

“In a second, Lot.” You lift your head to look at her, adjusting the makeshift scarf to cover your face again, “I just need to finish this first. You can go back in.”

But Lottie doesn't move. She remains standing next to the porch, with her arms crossed over her chest and her shoulders hunched, as if every second she spent out there was torture and brought her a little closer to freezing, even dressed in so many layers of clothes and with that stupid fuzzy coat she wore over it. The sight is so ridiculous that it warms your heart.

“You know I can't sleep without you.” She muffles a yawn with her hand, blinking slowly to look at you with bright eyes and a sleepy look. You sigh, already feeling your resolve weaken.

Lottie sits on the steps of the cabin and wraps her arms around her knees, letting her cheek fall to rest on top of them, clearly indicating that she intends to wait for you when she sees you return to position yourself by the logs.

“Sweetie—" you stutter, “you don’t need to wait for me.”

You try to argue, feeling guilty when you see your girlfriend curled up like a kicked puppy and even more so when she lifts her head to look at you for a moment, deep dark eyes looking too innocent for their knowing depths.

“I wouldn't need to if you'd just come in.”

Lottie knows very well what she's doing now, this girl, with that sad little face and doe eyes, with freckles highlighted by the cold and cheeks reddened burned through freezing. She knows you will give in.

You think about shrugging your shoulders and actually finishing the task with her there out of pure spite, just because she can't go around winking and expecting you to do whatever she wants whenever she wants like that.

But… it's really cold and it's been dark for a while now and Lottie looks so sad and lonely by the door, waiting for you.

“...Fine.” You sigh, giving up.

Your teammates are definitely going to complain about you not finishing this and you're definitely going to take on the worst assignments along with Misty over the next few days, but it's hard to focus on that when Lottie's pout melts away.

“Finally!” You choose to ignore the way she instantly brightens and that sad puppy look is cast aside in an instant.

Ugh, you think, carrying the pile of firewood you've accumulated with you, Mari will definitely be a pain in the ass because of this.

Lottie is shifting her weight from one leg to the other anxiously when you turn to her again, grabbing your now empty hands and practically dragging you into the cabin.

You are hit by the heat the moment you enter and scattered across the floor are several bodies piled up near the fireplace so you have to let go of your hands to dodge them without kicking or tripping anyone. And Lottie looks upset again when you stop near the fire so you can warm your hands and pour yourself some tea – it's mostly just hot water now, but it's still better than nothing.

“Baby,” she whines, wrapping her arms around your body and pulling you against her, “I’m tired.”

“I know, Lot.” You rest your hand on top of hers gently. “Just let me warm up a little.”

Lottie squeezes her waist: “But I can warm you up—”

A hand abruptly grabbing your ankle scares the hell out of you and Van is on the floor looking annoyed.

“Baby,” she mocks, “Just go to sleep with her already so we can finally sleep too, Jesus.”

“Oh, fuck you—”

“She's right.” Lottie whines again, grabbing your chin and turning your face to hers, blinking her eyes at you sadly. “Let’s go, please?”

You immediately soften, “Of course, hun.”

You two end up somewhat separated from the others, wrapping yourself in the remaining blankets and Lottie immediately falls on top of you, burying her face in your neck.

“You’re so needy,” you tease.

Lottie lets out a hum, resting her chin on your chest contentedly to look up at you, her eyes shining with satisfaction, “I’m just really persuasive.”

You shake your head in amusement at her, enjoying the way she looks at you tenderly, her body pressing completely against yours now. You kiss her cheek gently.

“Whatever you say, baby.”

Lottie giggles, moving impossibly closer to capture your lips with hers and you sigh in contentment against her chapped lips until you feel a pair of incredibly cold hands sneak beneath all of your clothing and absorb all of your heat.

“Shit— Lottie!” You squirm, but it's useless trying to escape with the weight of a body on top of yours.

“Don’t go,” she says softly, rubbing circles into your skin until you stop moving, “I’m just warming up.”

“Aren’t you supposed to warm me up?” You ask completely indignantly as she hovers over you.

She shrugs, “I'm doing that too.”

“You are such a charm, aren't you?” And then you flick the faded spot on her forehead, just because you can't help but totally react to her little revenge for making her go outside to get you.

“Ouch,” she rubs the scar, trying to sound annoyed, but you know there's no real bite behind it.

You smile at Lottie and she smiles back, finally giving in when you pull her up and kiss her forehead in apology and she settles back on top of you. This time, you both feel warm inside.

“I love you, Lot.” You say.

Her eyes light up again, “I—”

You hear a dry cough that sounds too fake and you're completely sure that it's Van's way of telling you two to shut up again, you hold back the urge to laugh.

Lottie mumbles the rest of the sentence muffled against your neck, you don't hear it properly, but you feel it on your skin.

[clockwayswrites]

Tim Jr., Coffee Machine Extraordinaire

WC: 2314

Dick worried his lip between his teeth as he looked Tim over. His little brother was standing, zombie-like, in front of the Cave’s coffee machine.

Not that it was unusual.

Just the thing was, Tim had been doing better. His dark circles had been fading, his snippy moments less often, his focus better, and he’d even been putting on some much needed weight. Dick had been so proud (as had Alfred and Bruce). But now the circles were darkening again and Tim was staring at the coffee machine like he used to— like it was his only salvation.

Jason stepped up to Dick’s side, joining him in the bird watching.

“Hey Timbit,” Jason said, breaking the silence of the moment. Trust Jason to get down to it.

“Hum?”

“What happened to your hand?”

Tim blinked down at his gauze wrapped hand as if he had forgotten about the injury. Not a good sign with Tim. Dick was betting on over 48 hours without proper sleep at this point.

“Oh.” Tim said, the exclamation was emotionless. “Tim Junior bit me.”

Dick and Jason exchanged looks. Who now?

“Um, did you get a pet, baby bird?” Dick gently asked.

“Hum?”

Jason rolled his eyes. “Who’s Tim Junior, Timberino.”

“Oh.” Tim said. The brothers waited impatiently for Tim’s brain to roll over. “My coffee maker. Little brat refused to make me any…”

“Okay, yep, alright. No patrol for you tonight Timtam,” Jason said with a clap of his hands.

“Wait, what? No. Just let me get some coffee and I’ll be ready to go,” Tim whined.

“I think Jason’s right, Tim,” Dick said, stepping up to gently guide his brother away from the coffee machine.

Tim looked back over his shoulder at the machine as they walked away. Dick could practically see Jason building a plan as he lead them over to the vehicle area.

“We’ll go back to your Nest, Timbuktu. We can keep an eye on the ops from there while the rest of the idiots have to run around in this damn cold. Bet it’s going to sleet later,” Jason said gleefully.

“I see how it is, you just want to be warm. Sure you aren’t just faking those broken ribs to get some extra time off?” Dick asked, playing into the show of it. They just had to keep Tim distracted until Jason had him bundled back up in his apartment.

“Oh no. You’ve found me out,” Jason deadpanned as he tossed Tim his helmet. At least Bat reflexes were still in play and Tim caught the helmet without even looking at it.

“I knew it!” Dick cried, dodging Tim’s smacks as he doubled checked that the helmet was secure. “That’s it. I’m crashing your Nest Party after patrol so you better save me some food.”

“What makes you think there will be food?” Jason asked. His words were tough, but Dick watched him tug Tim’s arms until the other gripped him tightly. Baby bird was in good hands.

“Jaybird,” Dick said, “it’s you, of course there’s going to be food.”

Jason’s short was almost lost over the sound of the motorcycle starting. Dick waved enthusiastically as the bike sped out of the cave before he let his hand and smile both drop.

He really hoped that Tim just needed some sleep.

-

Dick landed silently onto the balcony. The lights were on low inside, changing subtly enough that Dick could tell the T.V. must be on. He found the hidden panel to flip up and enter his codes for the door’s locks to hiss open.

Jason was watching him from over the couch and even without seeing it, Dick could tell when Jason’s fingers relaxed around the gun he must had been holding. He raised a finger to his lips, and Dick gave a little nod back.

Dick slunk silently over to the couch, bracing his arms on the back right next to Jason’s head. He had to hold back a coo at the sight of Tim curled up under a fluffy green blanket with his head pillowed against Jason’s thigh. Jason must have known how close Dick was to making a noise because he smacked his hand into Dick’s face.

Hands raised, Dick backed away with a silent laugh. After rinsing off quickly in the shower he dug out some sweats from ‘his’ drawer in the guest bedroom. Tim might act like he never wanted them in his space, but he still kept a drawer for each of them stocked with civilian clothing and relaxing wear. And Dick knew his favorite cereal was stocked in the pantry too. Stomach rumbling, Dick padded back out to the open living space.

Jason must have pulled an Indiana Jones and slipped out from under Tim because he was in the kitchen making up a plate of left overs for Dick. Dick bounded over to peer into the boxes. “Ooh, Thai.”

He skipped back a step as Jason smacked at his hand with the serving spoon.

“How long has he been out?”

“Not long after eating. Food got here right after us, so most of the night,” Jason said, his words a low rumble in his efforts to stay quiet.

“Just tired then?” Dick asked, still hoping that was all it was.

Jason’s frown didn’t reassure him.

“What?”

“Sleep was restless for hours. He kept… dun know. Searching for something,” Jason said with a little shrug. “Not nightmares but not easy rest.”

Dick sighed and leaned back against the counter. He chewed idly on his thumb, wondering what was bothering their baby bird. “New cases?”

“Not from me. Wrapped the last one up last week and B’s out of town.”

“Damian wouldn’t ask. Steph is busy with the girls. And there’s nothing from me. Something made him take a turn.”

Jason just hummed and popped the plate into the microwave. Dick was never sure if Jason knew how much the noise sounded like one Batman would make. He never risked mentioning it. Dick glanced over at his brother and then past him as the shiny red caught his eye. “That it?”

“What?”

Dick jutted his chin at the coffee maker. “Tim Junior”

“…guess it is. Odd looking machine, aint it? Think he messed with it?”

“Someone had to,” Dick said, moving around Jason. The coffee machine did have a distinctly home brewed look to it. None of the knobs matched and the one panel was a slightly different shade of red like it had been spray painted to match.

“Freak’n mad scientist,” Jason groused as he stopped the microwave before it could beep.

“More engineering then he normally does,” Dick murmured. He reached out to flip the top of the machine open. It felt like solid work… the lid snapped back down with a clack.

“Shh.”

“…it wasn’t me. The machine moved.”

“Shut it, dickface.”

“I’m not kidding,” Dick hissed. “I just went to open it—”

The lid snapped open on its own.

Dick reached out to blindly smack at Jason’s arm.

“Stop it. I saw. Could just be a spring—” Jason reached out to touch it and the coffee machine lunged forward, narrowly missing Jason's fingers. "Holy fuck!"

“Did his coffee machine really bite him?!?” Dick screeched.

(Quietly.)

(He refused to wake Tim.)

“Maybe really, really strong springs?” Jason hissed back as he reached for the machine again.

Dick tackled the coffee machine as it sprang off the counter. The machine struggled, snapping its top open and closed as it strained for Jason. It was starting to heat up in his arms.

“Unplug it!”

“It’s not even plugged in!”

“What do you mean it’s not—”

The lock in the front door turned with a click and both brothers froze. The coffee machine snapped again in Dick’s arms and he shushed it without thinking.

The door creaked open.

“Tim? Starlight? You awake babe?” Whoever it was spoke quietly, like they knew how much of a light sleeper Tim was. There was a soft bang and a quiet curse as a slight figure slipped into the apartment hauling a carry-on suitcase and messenger bag that he dumped by the door. He turned away from locking the door and froze.

Three pairs of blue eyes blinked at each other.

“What are you doing to Tim Junior?” the stranger whisper screamed as he scrambled forward.

Dick let the guy snatch the coffee machine, backing up with his hands raised to show he was harmless. Not that he was, of course, he was running through all the places that he knew Tim had hidden weapons.

Not that the guy looked like much of a threat with the way he was petting the coffee machine and cooing at it. “It’s okay baby, the bad man doesn’t have you any more.”

Dick swore the coffee machine was purring back.

“Okay, who the fuck are you,” Jason growled.

Jason only got a single threatening step forward before he froze at a whine that came from a couch. Tim pulled himself up by the back of the couch, draping himself half over it.

“Danny?”

The guy— Danny— glanced at them before looking at Tim. “Hey starlight. So. Um, your brothers are here tonight?” The end of his sentence rose up in a little squeak.

Tim froze, going pale in a way that scared Dick a little as his eyes darted between all of them. “What day is it?”

“Sunday, babe.”

“Oh shit…”

“Want to introduce us, Timmallow?” Jason rumbled.

Dick was pretty sure that answer was ‘no the fuck I do not’.

Seems Danny thought the same as he jerked the hand not holding the coffee machine behind him. “I can just… leave and pretend I was never here?”

“No!” Tim said, scrambling over the back of the couch and sliding to stand next to Danny. “No, um. I should have—”

“It’s fine, babe.”

“No it’s not! I’ve been meaning to introduce you to them but— ugh.” Tim buried his face in his hands.

“Why don’t we go sit on the couch?” Dick suggested. He made sure to plaster on a cheerful smile. “Though, um, maybe without Tim Junior?”

Danny snorted and moved to set the coffee machine down on the kitchen island. Dick and Jason both gave it a wide berth as they headed over to the couch to sit. Dick steered them to stay on one side of the L-shaped couch while Tim and Danny sat on the other.

An awkward silence settled over the group.

Well they couldn’t have that. “So, Danny was it?”

“Yep, Danny Fenton. You’re… Dick? And Jason?”

“Yeah! Tim talks about us?”

“Of course, you’re his brothers,” Danny said. He reached up to rub at the back of his neck. “I guess… you haven’t heard about me?”

“Um, no,” Dick admitted. He could feel his smile falter for a moment at the hurt in Danny’s eyes.

“Danny—” Tim started.

“It’s fine.”

It didn’t sound fine.

“No it’s not,” Tim said. “I kept meaning to tell them but they— do you know how over the top they are? They would have been over here in five minutes to meet you and then for the next, like, week as they all got back into town. They would be everywhere for weeks and…”

Tim picked at his sweat pants, looking small and nervous. “And you just really moved in a few weeks ago and I wanted you to myself for longer.”

“Hey, starlight,” Danny said and reached out to curl his hand over Tim’s. “It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not and I’m sorry. So, officially, Danny, these are my brothers, Dick and Jason. Dick, Jason, this is my boyfriend Danny Fenton. He’s an engineering student at Gotham U.”

Dick offered his best smile. “I guess that explains the coffee machine!”

“Like fuck it does, that thing is alive,” Jason snapped. “It bit me!”

“You were grabbing him!” Danny said.

“It bit Tim too!”

“Aw, Tim Junior, no,” Danny sighed, taking Tim’s other hand and looking at the bandages carefully. “I wasn’t even gone for a week and you two were fighting?”

Tim whined. “He wouldn’t let me have any coffee!”

“How many cups were you on?”

Tim ducked his head in a mumble.

“How many was that?”

“Seven.”

“Tim!”

“You were gone! I couldn’t sleep,” Tim sulked.

The fight seemed to just drain out of Danny at that and he kissed Tim’s knuckles gently. “Ask your family next time before it gets so bad, okay babe? They’re obviously willing to look after you. And then Tim Junior won’t bite you.”

“Yeah Timmander, we won’t let you suffer,” Jason said with a smirk that had Tim narrowing his eyes at him.

Dick elbowed Jason (which was as effective as going for a brick wall). “We won’t. We’re happy to be around if you’re feeling lonely. Especially if it keeps you safe from your coffee machine!”

“Seriously,” Jason said, “What is that thing, er, Tim Junior made of?”

“Oh! Ectoplasm,” Danny said with a smile.

Dick paused. “…um, what?”

“Ectoplasm. You know, ghost juice?” Danny held out his cupped hand and green liquid pooled in it as if seeping out of his skin.

Jason leapt up and behind the couch before Dick was even registering what he was seeing. “What the fuck!? Why the fuck can your boyfriend make pit juice Timmy?”

Tim buried his face in his hands. “Not pit juice.”

“Ghost juice. Adjacent but very different, from what Tim has explained to me,” Danny said, the liquid fading away.

“That sure looked like pit water!”

“It wasn’t, see, pit water is pulled from the living while—”

“So,” Dick said quietly, leaning over to Tim. “Maybe not just that you wanted to keep him to yourself, huh?”

Tim just groaned and tried to bury himself under the green blanket and into the couch. “I should have just let Tim Junior eat me.”

-----

AN: Thanks to spite, finally got back to this and finished it up! I know not the firmest ending, but it covered what I wanted to~

Make sure to be better than Tim and hydrate and rest! Also stay delightful, darlings!

[dearstvckyx]

Another Piastri? - OP81 (ft. JB9 + Piastri Family + Lily Zneimer)

summary: Mia distances herself from her family, leaving them worried, but Joe reassures them she’s okay. After secretly welcoming their son, Joe calls her family to Cincinnati, claiming Mia needs support. When they arrive, they’re shocked to meet baby Sebastian Oscar Burrow. Oscar gets emotional holding his namesake nephew, and the family shares a heartfelt reunion. Surrounded by love, Mia feels complete, beginning her new chapter as a mother.

pairings: older sister! oc! Mia Piastri x younger brother! Oscar Piastri / wife! Mia Piastri x husband! Joe burrow / oc! Mia Piastri x Piastri Family / newborn! Sebastian Burrow x everyone

. 　⁺ 　 . ⁺ 　 . 　⁺ 　 . ⁺ 　 . 　⁺ 　 . ⁺ 　 . 　⁺ 　 .

The months after the wedding had been strange, a mixture of joy and distance. Mia had slowly withdrawn from everyone—ignoring texts, dodging calls, and disappearing from social media. Her family had noticed, of course. Hattie and Edie texted constantly, trying to reach her. Her parents, Chris and Nicole, called Joe frequently, worried about why their usually bubbly daughter had gone so quiet.

But every time they asked Joe, his response was always the same.

“She’s okay,” he’d say in that calm, steady voice. “She just needs some space right now. Trust me, I’ve got her.”

And for a while, they trusted him. But as the weeks turned into months, the worry deepened. Even Oscar, who was usually too busy with racing, noticed. He called Joe more often, subtly pressing for answers.

“Is she really okay, Joe? She hasn’t answered me in weeks,” Oscar said during one call, his voice strained.

“She’s fine, man. I promise. Just… focus on your season, alright?”

Oscar wasn’t convinced, but he had no choice but to leave it alone.

What no one knew was that Mia and Joe had been keeping a secret. The pregnancy was something they wanted to savor privately, away from the noise of life and the whirlwind of her brother’s F1 career. Mia wanted the moment to be just theirs—for now.

. 　⁺ 　 . ⁺ 　 . 　⁺ 　 . ⁺ 　 . 　⁺ 　 . ⁺ 　 . 　⁺ 　 .

It was late one quiet evening in Cincinnati when it finally happened.

Mia had been restless all day, pacing their home with one hand on her belly. When the contractions started, Joe jumped into action, calm and collected as always. Hours later, they were in the hospital, and Mia was cradling a tiny, pink-cheeked baby boy in her arms.

“He’s perfect,” she whispered, her voice trembling as tears slipped down her face.

Joe leaned over, pressing a kiss to her temple. “He is.”

For a moment, it felt like the world had stopped. It was just the three of them—peaceful, complete. But as Mia looked down at their son, her heart ached. She’d pulled away from her family for months, and now, in this moment, all she wanted was for them to be here.

Joe noticed the hesitation in her eyes and gently took her hand.

“I’ll call them,” he said softly.

Mia blinked up at him. “But we wanted to keep this just us—”

“I know,” Joe interrupted, smiling. “But they’re your family. They’ll want to be here. Let me take care of it.”

. 　⁺ 　 . ⁺ 　 . 　⁺ 　 . ⁺ 　 . 　⁺ 　 . ⁺ 　 . 　⁺ 　 .

By morning, Chris, her mom, her sisters, and Oscar were all on their way to Cincinnati. Joe had called them late the night before, spinning a carefully crafted story.

“She’s in the hospital,” he’d said. “She’s fine, but she’ll feel more comfortable if you’re here.”

No one had questioned him. They booked flights immediately, arriving at the hospital the next morning with a mix of worry and relief. Oscar even brought Lily, who was Mia’s closer person outside their family.

When they stepped into the hospital room, the last thing they expected was the sight before them.

Mia was sitting up in bed, her hair a mess and her cheeks flushed, but she was smiling brighter than they’d seen in months. In her arms, wrapped in a soft blanket, was a tiny baby.

The room fell silent.

“Surprise,” Mia said softly, her voice trembling with emotion. “I wanted you all to meet him.”

Her father, Chris, took a shaky step forward, his face a mixture of shock and disbelief. “Him?” he asked, his voice cracking.

Mia nodded, tears spilling down her cheeks. “Your grandson.” She spoke, looking between both of her parents.

For a moment, no one moved. Then the room erupted in emotion. Hattie and Edie burst into tears, rushing to Mia’s side. Chris and her mom followed, their hands shaking as they gently touched the baby’s tiny fingers.

Oscar, however, stood frozen in the doorway, his wide eyes fixed on the little bundle in Mia’s arms.

“Are you just going to stand there, Ozzie Bear?” Mia teased, her voice soft and affectionate. “Come meet your nephew.”

Oscar blinked, snapping out of his daze. Slowly, he stepped forward, Lily nudging him gently from behind. When he reached Mia’s bedside, she carefully handed the baby to him.

Oscar’s hands shook as he cradled his nephew, his lips parting in awe. The baby squirmed slightly, letting out a tiny sigh.

“Oscar,” Mia said, her voice breaking. “Meet Sebastian Oscar Burrow.”

Oscar’s head shot up, his teary eyes locking with hers. “You… you named him after me?”

Mia nodded, her own tears falling freely now. “Of course I did. You’re my baby brother, and you mean the world to me. It just felt right.”

Oscar let out a shaky laugh, his tears falling faster now. “Mia…” he whispered, his voice cracking as he looked back down at Sebastian. “Thank you. He’s… he’s perfect.”

Lily, standing beside him, leaned over to stroke the baby’s cheek, her own eyes misty. “He really is,” she whispered.

Chris, standing off to the side, chuckled through his tears. “Looks like we’ve got another Piastri crybaby in the family.”

The room erupted in laughter, the tension melting away as joy filled the air.

. 　⁺ 　 . ⁺ 　 . 　⁺ 　 . ⁺ 　 . 　⁺ 　 . ⁺ 　 . 　⁺ 　 .

The rest of the day passed in a blur of happy tears and quiet moments. Everyone took turns holding Sebastian, marveling at his tiny fingers and soft little nose. Joe stood by Mia’s side the whole time, his hand never leaving hers.

As the sun set, Mia watched Oscar sitting in the corner of the room, cradling Sebastian with a tenderness she hadn’t seen before. Lily sat beside him, her head resting on his shoulder as she smiled down at the baby.

Mia’s heart swelled. For months, she had felt disconnected, lost in her own world. But now, surrounded by her family and her son, she felt whole again.

Looking up at Joe, she smiled through her tears. “We did good, didn’t we?”

Joe leaned down, kissing her softly. “Yeah, we did.”

And as Sebastian let out a tiny yawn, his family gathered around him, Mia knew this was just the beginning of something beautiful.

. 　⁺ 　 . ⁺ 　 . 　⁺ 　 . ⁺ 　 . 　⁺ 　 . ⁺ 　 . 　⁺ 　 .

Read Part One Here

[triptuckers]

discoveries - remy lebeau

Request: yes! "Your writing for gambit is so good omg 😭❤️ single handedly feeding me rn!! I was wondering if you would write Gambit with a S/O that has one huge tattoo? Lol I got a sea serpent tattoo last year that crawls up from my arm and onto my chest and it’s my absolute pride and joy!! I’m so curious what Remy’s reaction would be to that 👁️👁️" Pairing: remy lebeau x x-men!reader (reader has the ability to manipulate plants and tree roots and use them as shields/weapons) Summary: when you get hurt during a mission and remy takes care of you, he finds out about your tattoo Warnings: mentions of fighting, violence, injuries (reader gets injured), blood, dizziness, tattoo's, angst Word count: 1.6K A/N: anon getting this request made me realise yes I do need a new tattoo (I'm literally broke and unemployed). enjoy!

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being part of the x-men meant you always had to be ready. even if you were spending a cozy afternoon with remy in one of the gardens of the mansion. apparently the newest set of power hungry villains didn't care if you had the day off.

it's how you find yourself - after complaining about it a great deal - strapped in on the jet less than twenty minutes after you got all but hauled inside the mansion by beast.

remy is sitting next to you, long legs stretched out in front of him and crossed at the ankle, hands tucked behind his head.

'don't fret, chéri, we'll be in and out in no time.' says remy.

even though you had been dating for a short while now, it still made you blush when remy called you nicknames. and he knew it. he's smirking at you now, noticing your reddened cheeks.

'that's what you said last time, and we were there for an entire day cleaning up messes.' you say.

remy merely shrugs. 'I've got a good feeling about this one.'

'alright you lovebirds, can we focus? I'm taking her down.' says scott from the front of the jet.

once you all get out of the jet to assess the situation, you can feel remy's presence next to you.

'bet I can take out more than you, chéri.' he whispers in your ear.

'you're on.' you say.

you and remy are instructed by scott to take care of the villains on the ground while the others get the people trapped in the surrounding buildings to safety.

as the team splits up, you and remy run towards a small group of people who randomly shooting around, creating panic and chaos.

at first, you thought they were just low level criminals, but then you notice the kinds of guns they carry.

'remy!' you yell.

you're quick to manipulate the soil, making tree roots shoot up from the ground that knock remy out of the way but gently lower him to the ground behind a few upturned cars.

'that's sentinel tech.' you say once you catch up with him.

'merde.' he says, shaking his head. 'how do they always get their hands on that? ready to take them out?'

'let's go.' you say, flexing your fingers and making the soil beneath your feet rumble slightly.

remy winks at you before taking off.

the two of you work together to get take out the group currently focusing all of their fire on you. as long as the others got all the people in the buildings to safety, they could point their guns at you all they like.

you and remy move quickly through and around the group with practised ease. while you're focusing on the fight, you can hear remy make witty remarks.

'hey, chéri!' you hear him call.

as you crush a guy's windpipe by wrapping roots around his neck, you quickly shoot him a glance.

'I'm up to seven!' he says, holding up one of his cards, which is a seven of hearts.

'get your head out of the counting, remy!' you say, dodging a blow from your next attacker.

'you got less than gambit?' you hear him say somewhere in the distance.

'I got nine!' you shout.

you hear him curse, then you hear two short explosions before remy appears in your line of sight with a smirk on his face, holding up a card with the number ten on it.

'showoff.' you say, but you smile.

remy winks at you before taking off after a few men who had the sense to run away.

as you follow him, you fail to notice one guy wasn't entirely knocked out. you're too late to notice him. he quickly gets close to you and slashes a knife through your side.

you yell out in pain as your knees threaten to give up on you. you quickly turn around to throw a sharp wooden dagger at him, but your aim is off.

from the corner of you eye, you see a flash of purple and moments later a sharp card hits your attacker square in the forehead, making him crumble to the ground.

you distantly hear someone yell your name as you sway on your feet, a wave of dizziness taking over you. you blindly reach out for something to steady you when your hands find something warm and solid.

remy has caught you in his arms. he's worriedly looking down at you, then notices your side.

'oh, merde...' he says, gently prodding your side.

you suck in a sharp breath at the wave of pain spreading from your ribs. as a reflex, you tighten your hold on remy's arms.

'j'excuse, chéri, hold on, gambit's gonna take care of you.' he says.

before he can say anything else, a shot narrowly misses him. remy quickly throws a handful of cards with his free hand that isn't holding you up.

'cyclops!' he yells. 'I need backup! we got one man down!'

you can hear remy's voice both above you and in your earpiece. you hear scott's answer as remy reaches down to pick you up.

as another sharp burst of pain shoots through your body, you glance down. one of your sides is soaked in blood. the knife had ripped a large gash through your uniform.

you frown at it, you loved your uniform. and now it's ruined. you look up to remy, who is holding you into his arms as he runs toward the jet. he's talking to you, but it's like you can't understand him. you close your eyes to fight off the dizziness, but remy lightly taps your cheek.

'non, mon amour, you can't close your eyes. keep them open for remy, yeah?' he says.

mon amour. that's a new one.

you weakly nod at him.

you see a flash of red as scott runs past you.

'beast!' says remy. 'we got medical supplies on the yet?'

'yes!' comes beast's instant reply. you reach up to take the earpiece out, the sound is too loud and harsh to bear. you're so comfortable in remy's arms, who is trying the best to keep you steady as he runs to the jet as fast as he can.

you hear remy talk to beast as he enters the jet and gently lowers you onto a chair. he reclines the chair so you're more comfortable.

'I'll be right back, chéri.' he says with a kiss to your forehead.

you can hear him rummage around somewhere behind you as you're fighting to keep your eyes open. the pain in your side had shrunk down to a dull ache, but you could tell blood was still coming out of the wound.

remy comes back, carrying a bag of medical supplies with him.

'this ain't gonna be pretty.' he says as he moves closer to you.

'just get it over with.' you say.

'you just keep talking to me, yeah?'

'sure.'

'bien. here we go.'

remy reaches into the bag and gets out a pair of fabric scissors. he hesitates briefly. the two of you hadn't been dating for very long. not much had happened besides the occasional make out session. you'd seen remy without a shirt when you would play basketball with the team, but remy had never seen you without a shirt. suddenly it all felt too quickly.

'it's okay, love.' you say, bringing him out of his hesitation. 'I trust you.'

he nods at you before carefully cutting your uniform off of you. when he has cut away the biggest part of the top half of your uniform, his eyes fall to your body.

not the wound, but rather the other side.

a tattooed serpent that slithers from your rib cage over your shoulder and disappears into the sleeve remy hadn't cut off.

instead of checking the wound, remy trails his fingers softly over your tattoo. you watch as his eyes follow the pattern of ink. you would have thought you were shy and nervous to be sitting here shirtless with remy. but you loved your tattoo. the design is beautiful, and it means a lot to you.

'so that's what you've been hiding beneath that suit of yours.' he murmurs.

'you like it?' you say softly. while you loved your tattoo, there had been different kinds of reactions from people who saw it.

'chéri... it's beautiful.' says remy, soothing your worries.

'I almost feel bad for having to cover it up.' says remy, reaching out to get out the medical supplies.

'don't worry, you'll get to look at it plenty after I've healed.' you say.

'really?'

'yeah, of course. if you'd still have me with a giant scar on my side.'

'I'm with you til the end, mon amour. now let's get you fixed up.' says remy, leaning in to press a kiss to your cheek. 'in the meantime, tell me the story how you got it, hm? need you to stay awake for me.'

'alright.' you say softly, and you start telling the story of how you got the tattoo as remy works on cleaning the wound and bandaging you up.

when he wraps the binding around your chest, you can tell his hands linger on your tattoo, tracing its outlines.

you close your eyes and lean back as remy secures the bandage. you feel how he lightly taps your forehead, then presses a kiss to the tip of your nose.

'all done, chéri.' he says.

his voice sounds close, and when you open your eyes, you see his face right in front of you.

you smile tiredly at him. 'can I sleep now?'

remy smiles back at you. 'oui, mon amour.'

'stay here?'

'always.'

you feel how remy gently traces your tattoo again as you drift off to sleep.

A/N:thanks for reading! everything that I have written can be found on my masterlist. please do not copy, translate, plagiarise or repost my work! some of these are requested by other people and I spend a lot of time and effort on my works <3 much love, marit

[sweet-honey-fruit]

Wanted

Boothill x reader

Synopsis: Boothill has a wanted poster with your face on it

This is a snippet from what I was going to do. I might turn this into a series.

Warnings: boothill typical violence, cussing, boothill’s substitute cuss words, use of guns, mentions of splattered brains (but doesnt happen)

Masterlists: xxx

Out of bullets. Out of backup. Shit shit shit. You’re normally better than this. You are better than this. You wouldn’t have secured a job to personally work beside the Ten Stonehearts if you sucked at it. So why now? When it truly mattered, why start losing grip now?

The hallway on the space station was long and agonizing. It’s slim but somehow you still feel like prey in an open field. The grip you have on your gun is tight despite the blasphemous thing being out of ammo. How the metal is digging into the palm of your hand is the only thing keeping you grounded and focused. Focused on making it to the safe room. Focused on sending out that distress signal. Focused on the little hope you have left. Just focus.

The distant sound of gunshots urges you to run faster. Each round of shots fuels not only your need to escape but your overwhelming guilt as well. Normally you stay back and handle the threat. You stay back to help your agents and get them to safety. That's what you wanted to do. Yet the sight of seeing bodies upon bodies being thrown to the side by him, you started to, selfishly, second guess if you should.

What pushed you to get out was Jade's voice speaking through your earpiece. She specifically ordered you to run and to get to the safe room. She all but hinted that this was surely a fight you couldn’t win and you needed to get out now. She's normally calm and collected, tactical and calculating. Jade isn't one to order you to retreat for she has trust in your abilities. So when she told you to run, you ran like hell was after you.

For once, you prayed to the Amber Lord. Praying that your colleagues will make it out alive. Although, you doubted that.

The weight of your conscious is almost enough to weigh down your speed but once the familiar doors of the safe room enter your sight, all weight is washed away and it’s replaced with relief.

Finally, after minutes of running and dodging bullets, you’ve made it. You take deep breaths to calm your breathing as a shaky hand swipes your keycard over the mechanical padlock. With a loud beep that makes you internally cuss it out, you slip into the room. The moment the door shuts you collapse to your knees.

“Holy fuck.” You mumble, letting out a nervous laugh. Your gun clatters to the floor beside you as your hand loses the strength to continue the death grip. You run your hand over your uniform to try and soothe the ache that replaces the cold metal. What a shit show.

You have faced an astronomical amount of enemies throughout your line of work. Anywhere from the Anti-Matter Legion to Galaxy Rangers. All of them were a pain to deal with, sure, but this? This is something different. You have never seen someone so precise, so quick with a gun, and so cocky. Recalling everything just made your blood boil. It’s not even because he ambushed your crew. It was more of the fact that he was moonwalking while doing so. Honestly, who acts so casually in a fight?

Pass it off with humor all you want, but you know exactly why you’re left shaken. This was the work of one individual. The same individual that made eye contact with you in the lobby. His grin widened when you locked eyes, and his bullseye pupils seemed to have made you the target. It was chilling. The way your body tensed and the hairs on the back of your neck stood was foreign to you. You’re normally the hunter but in the moment you felt like prey. That feeling was followed up by Jade's command and it felt too much like an omen. Like all of this was for you. All of this was because of you.

You shake your head to get rid of those thoughts. No. There’s no reason why you should dwell on the situation. Only doing so will drag you down. With weakened legs you stand, stumbling over to the command terminal to send a distress signal out. You hesitate for a moment as you stare down at the screen. The blinking red of the button haunted your memory.

The bodies of your coworkers. The blood of the agents you were supposed to watch over on Jade's behalf. The screams of pain and terror as they tried to take down the threat that snuck onboard. No matter how hard you try, you can't push down that culpability. Your mind races at a million miles per hour, from one thought to the next, all about your irresponsibility. You tried to save who you could. You tried to take down the threat yourself. You shot so, so many bullets all for naught. Then he looked at you. Made a beeline for you. Was he here for you? Was this all your fault? Where did you go wrong? Why didn't you try harder to save the agents that were trusted to your care? Are you even worthy of saving?

Your breath hitches at the last question.

'Am I worth saving?'

Even so, that decision isn't up to you. It's up to the Ten Stonehearts. With reluctance, you press the button. There's a gentle ping that was supposed to reassure you that the distress signal was successfully sent. But all it did was make your gut twist with anguish. It shouldn't only be you in this room.

Your sorrowful eyes stare out the window with a glaze. In all of your times of need, it has always been the stars that brought you comfort. Always a shining, shimmering light in the dreadful place of your mind. For the first time since this morning, your mind goes quiet as you imagine yourself walking among the stars. You enjoy the tranquility of the safe room, taking the opportunity to worship the silence. No screaming, no commands, no gunshots.

Wait.

.

.

.

No gunshots.

Your moment of peace is ripped out of your hands and replaced with your heart dropping. Your breathing stops and slowly, ever so, you turn your head to look behind you.

Oh fuck.

There he is in all of his cowboy glory. The barrel of his gun is pointed right between your eyes and there isn’t a hint of hesitation on his face.

“Don’t tell me ya hidin’ from my welcome party.” His thick southern accent lays on thick at the realization of it all; you haven’t been fucked like this in a long time. Your gun is left on the floor. Even if it is out of ammo, you still could’ve potentially used it as an empty threat. You quite literally backed up against a wall. Alone. The only exit is being blocked by the blood-thirsty cyborg man in front of you. There’s no one left to provide backup.

That feeling creeps up your spine again as his eye pierces through you, just itching to pull the trigger on you.

"Is this what they consider southern hospitality?" You sarcastically ask, a glare settling into your eyes in hopes of masking that premonition deep within your bones.

There's a skip of a beat in your heart when there’s silence. A thick, heavy silence that only grows louder the longer you stare down the barrel of the pistol. It’s only broken by his boisterous laugh. A laugh that feels mocking. A laugh that makes you feel offended that you opened your mouth. You go from scared, to confused.

“Oh shucks! You got me gatherin’ tears in my eye! Holy fudgin shirt on a rag! It’s been a while since I had someone tell me a one-liner like that. You’re a hoot and a holler!”

He finds this humorous. He has a gun pointed between your eyes, eager to splatter your brains across the window behind you, and he finds this funny. You go from scared, to livid.

“Are you fucking serious?”

“Ha! At least one of us can say it-“

“Are you fucking serious? You murdered my coworkers, you’re threatening me, and you’re laughing?”

“Don’t go actin’ all high and mighty now, you IPC scum.” His mood switch gave you whiplash. What was once a lighthearted tone was turned into a low growl. He took one step forward, then another, and another until his chest was pressed up against yours. His breath fans over your face. Your back presses up against the command terminal. The soft red blinking of the distress button reflects off the shiny metal of the gun as he presses it against your forehead. Even so, the indignation coursing through your body is enough to fuel a stellaron.

“You shouldn’t be acting all righteous either. Wanted criminals don’t deserve to act so pompous.” You snap back, huffing out a breath.

“So ya know who I am?”

“Unfortunately.”

Boothill might as well be a cursed name among the IPC. A name that brings both fear and a migraine. You never had the courtesy to meet him until now. His wanted poster has been sitting on your desk for a while along with his list of crimes. The stack was so big that his crimes were used as a paperweight for a while. While he was annoying, the Ten Stonehearts put you on missions that were ‘more important.’ His information served more as a warning rather than a task.

Now you regret not going after him when you got the chance.

“It appears my ruckus has paid off.” He whispers, lowering the gun. You had a glimmer of hope that maybe, just maybe, that that was a sign he was leaving. That the distress signal wasn’t needed after all. He only allowed you enough relief to let out a shaky sigh.

The tip of the gun is pressed under your chin, tilting your head back to fully look up at his smug smirk.

“It’s a shame your wanted poster says wanted alive.”

Your eyes widen in his swift movements. With harsh movements, he slams the grip against your temple. There’s a burning, aching pain that spreads throughout your head and down the back of your neck. Your body falls to the floor with a harsh thud. You couldn’t help but think this is what you deserved for failing them all.

‘Am I worth saving?’ It appears the universe made that decision before your higher-ups.

Boothill kneels beside you, placing his gun back into his holster.

“Don’t ya worry. Ima take good care of ya.”

[eternalsams]

The Other Woman ➺ R.LeBeau 'Gambit'

pairing: '97!Gambit x fem mutant!reader

warning/content: angst, jealousy, oblivious Gambit, best friends to lovers?, love confession, Remy talks french, Gambit is said taller than reader, no description of reader's powers, I swear I love Rogue with all my heart

summary: you're so in love with Gambit it hurts, but it hurts more seeing him run after a girl who can't decide if she wants him or not

word count: 2.1k

a/n: English isn't my first language so please take that into consideration. This is my first time writing for Gambit, or for the x-men in general, I'm doing my best writing their characters.

main masterlist

Giggles were heard in the corridors of the school and you sighed. A Cajun accented voice reached your ears and a sad smile stretched your lips. You flipped the pages of the paper you were reading and heard your two friends walk into the kitchen. Remy noticed you first and walked up to you before kissing the top of your head. "Good morning, ma jolie." You smiled up at him and waved at Rogue with a smile. You didn't know what he had said to her but you could see she was still trying to hold in her laughter. "What's so funny?" You asked before sipping your coffee, looking between your two friends. "You wouldn't get it." Rogue chuckled before pouring herself a cup of coffee. You noticed Remy biting a smile and looking down at his feet before he went to grab the cream for Rogue's coffee.

You brushed it off with a shake of your head and finished your drink before leaving the empty cup in the sink. You smiled at Remy on your way out and swallowed the uncomfortable feeling creeping up your throat. Your eyes burned with fresh tears as you joined your room to change and your heart was beating fast and hard against your chest. You loved Gambit with your whole being, feeling like you could die, kill, for him. But for a few months already, you noticed his attention was caught by the pretty red head with deadly touch. You'd be lying if you said you didn't understand the attraction he held for her. She was beautiful, smart, funny and so strong. You knew that if she could take off those gloves and take Remy's hands in hers, they'd be going on real dates and in a few years you'd be standing next to him at the altar, watching him marry the beauty.

You then joined the danger room, ready for your training with Logan and Morph, the two of them being the best adversaries you could ask for. You opened the door, finding Logan and Morph already fighting. You smiled and decided to leave your feelings for Remy out of the room and focus on the training. Morph noticed you and waved you over, earning them a blow from a chuckling Logan who took advantage of their distraction. You jumped into the fight and used your powers on them, trying your best to dodge the different attacks from the two mutants. You managed to push Logan on the floor, and struggled to maintain the wild force still as you fought with Morph, the mutant taking your own appearance and using your powers against yours.

You didn't know how long you spent in the room but you managed to forget about Remy and Rogue for a moment, having fun with your friends. That until you slipped out of the room and fell face to face with Gambit, smiling widely at you. But no Rogue in sight this time. "Ma jolie! I didn't know you were on the schedule this morning." He said before looking over your shoulder and noticing both Logan and Morph behind you. He slightly frowned but his smile never faltered. "Come on, guys. Don't you think it's a little bit unfair against the lady here?" He chuckled, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. You forced a smile and saw Morph grimace while Logan only walked past the both of you. "Don't worry, Gumbo. She can defend herself pretty well." And with that, he disappeared in the hallways, leaving the three friends alone. Gambit laughed at the nickname and looked down at you, his red irises piercing your more natural looking ones. "Who are you training with today?" You asked, waiting for Rogue's name to fall out of Remy's lips. "I'm alone this morning. Wanna practice my aim without being distracted." He smirked before stepping around you and opening the door. No Rogue? You exchanged a look with Morph who only shrugged before waving you off and leaving to go take a shower.

"Do you mind if I join you in a bit?" You asked, wanting to get a little bit of alone time with him. You missed your best friend. Gambit's lips stretched with a grin and his eyes squinted with joy. "I'd love to, ma jolie." Oh, how you loved when he called you that. He once told you it meant darling, but you got curious and searched it up. For years, Remy was calling you my lovely and you had no idea. Your cheeks flushed with a deep red color and you never mentioned it to him, only appreciating the term of endearment he got used to call you with.

You smiled at Gambit and left him train alone for a bit, doing your best to not rush into the danger room before Rogue could ever have the chance. About an hour later, you joined Remy into the room where he was catching his breath, multiples sentinels defeated on the holographic floor. "Ready for round two?" You asked, planting your hands on your hips and watching him straighten up. You nervously swallowed as he looked down at you, his tall frame dominating your smaller one. His uneven breaths were making it hard for you to focus on something else than his parted lips. But you managed to pull your gaze away, instead looking deep into his dark eyes. Those same eyes that cost him his family and a normal life, as normal as a mutant could ask for. Those same eyes you found yourself falling for every time they looked in your direction. You were about to say something when you heard the door open behind you. "There you are, sugar!" Rogue's southern accent rang through the room. Your smile faltered as Remy's widened, walking past you to join the red head. You turned to the duo and hid your grimace the best you could. "You don't mind if I tag along, do you?" She asked you with a charming smile. And how could you say no when Remy was looking at you the way he was right now? His eyes were practically begging you to accept.

"I don't mind, the more the merrier." You smiled at them and cracked your knuckles before stretching your muscles, getting ready for training. The surroundings changed and now showed a deep forest with tall trees all around you. You could smell the fresh grass, still wet from a rainy night. You looked up and saw some birds flying among the branches. "So, sugar. What did you choose to train on?" Rogue asked Gambit as you all looked around, in search of the enemy. "He should show up any time now." Gambit said as he charged his staff with his kinetic energy before he slammed it to the ground to reach a tree branch where he perched. A man's voice echoed in the forest and Gambit smiled as he looked in the direction of the voice. "There he is." He announced before a flash of red and purple passed in front of you.

You watched Rogue's eyes widen and Gambit jumped down from his perch to land right between you and Rogue. "Team work, ladies." Gambit called before running to Magneto, sending the attack. You followed right after him, using your powers to dodge what the older mutant was sending in your direction and helped Gambit reach a higher point to attack the enemy. Rogue took a bit longer before joining you and you noticed she was holding back when punching. You didn't really know why but guessed she didn't want to harm any of you by accident.

After almost an hour of training, you finally noticed a weakness and you could finish it off if only the three of you attacked at the same time. You shared a look with Remy who nodded, getting your idea. You sent a look to Rogue who also nodded and when both you and Gambit jumped on Magneto, Rogue missed her attack and the two of you were sent back, colliding harshly on the ground. Remy wrapped his arms around your body as you rolled on the ground, protecting you. When you finally stopped, the illusion around you faded and you caught your breath, wincing slightly as your whole body hurt. Gambit got off of you and helped you get up as Rogue ran to you. "Are you okay?" You sighed at her question and turned to her, frowning in anger. "What was that? You could've gotten us seriously hurt!" You exclaimed and you could see she felt guilty for what happened but Remy's hand on your shoulder surprised you. "Come on, it was an accident, ma jolie." His smooth tone and cute nickname for you didn't soothe you, quite the contrary. "We could've had him! If only you followed the movement. What next? You're gonna do the same on an actual mission? Leave us hanging and hurt? Or worse, dead?" You pushed Remy's hand off your shoulder and stepped towards Rogue who stuttered. Gambit called your name but you only saw red, not hearing his voice. You pushed Rogue who stumbled back and Gambit's body slid between the two of you. "That's enough!" He pushed you off her. You snapped back to reality and looked up at him, surprised.

You silently pleaded for him not to choose her but he didn't back off. You sighed and left the danger room, furious and heartbroken. You took the stairs to the first floor and locked yourself in your room, stripping out of your suit and grabbed regular clothes before screaming out your frustration and pain. The anger had your powers make some mess in your room but you couldn't care less. Three knocks at your door pulled you out of your thoughts and you were about to open when you heard his voice. "Ma jolie? Can we talk please?" You sighed and leaned on the door, silent tears running down your face. "I know you're listening, darling. Please open the door." You did as he asked, unable to refuse him anything. Once he noticed your crying eyes, he felt his heart clench. "Oh, ma jolie..." He sighed, stepping into your room and closing the door behind him. Once it was done, he wrapped his arms around you and held you tightly as you cried against him. "What's wrong, ma jolie? You never reacted like this before, you scared me."

"I can't deal with her anymore, I just can't..." You whispered, still snuggled into Remy's arms, scared he might disappeared to meet her once again. "Who, Rogue?" He frowned, not knowing what the problem was between the two of you. Things got a little heated in the danger room today but before that, everything was fine. "She's always there, I can't have a single moment with you anymore. I feel like I'm losing you." You confessed, some of the weight on your heart lifting up. "Oh, darling. You're not losing me, I can promise you that. She's not replacing you, ever. She's got another place in my heart than you." And that's what scared you the most, she had the best, the biggest place in his heart. The place you forever wanted. "Why are you so scared of her taking your place?" He then asked, pulling back from your embrace and looking down into your eyes.

"Because I love you." You murmured, looking deep into his demon-like eyes. As tempting as the devil himself. He raised his eyebrows, surprised. "What did you just say?" His arms slipped from your waist, only his fingers now ghosted over your body. "I love you, Remy. I've been falling in love with you for years and it hurts. You have no idea how much it hurts to see you chase after her when she can't pull herself to pick you. I picked you. I always did and will always do." You hiccupped a sob and shrugged your shoulders in defeat. "It's alright if you don't reciprocate my feelings, I can live with that, I have been for years now. But don't keep me around when you're courting her, my heart can't handle it." You added with a sad smile, leaving Remy speechless. You loved him? You have for years? "I... Why didn't you tell me sooner?" He asked and you frowned, feeling like the answer was pretty obvious. "You're my best friend, Remy. I couldn't ruin that."

"But I loved you." He sighed, vulnerability deeply anchored in his eyes as your heart clenched at his words.

[melthegoblin]

New Rehab program

Shigaraki x Reader

~ You're the very last therapist that the law has sent to "help" Shigaraki Tomura. All Might is the one who recommended you but the thing is, you have to be roommates with the villain ~

Warnings: You have anxiety and skin picking problems (Not mentioned in this text but will be in next parts)

"Young Shimura is in his bedroom, forgive him but I do not think that he will come to meet you."

You simply nodded at the blonde 7ft tall man. Even though he wasn't in his "buff form", he looked huge nonetheless. "I understand, I'm like, what, the 10th therapist he's seeing in the span of 2 months?"

All Might offered a little smile as an apology. "Yes, but I believe it will work this time. I have faith"

You showed a weak smile, that was totally not stressful at all. The former Symbol of Peace was trusting the rehabilitation of the biggest villain of Japan into your hands. Yeah, noooo pressure.

In front of the apartment where Shigaraki lived, All Might gave you the keys and reminded you that Tomura couldn't do anything since he was wearing a necklace that was deactivating his quirk. Which reassured you, because your quirk couldn't do anything against his. But if he tried attacking you, while wearing that necklace, you'd be fine.

Your quirk consisted of enhancing your reflexes, you could dodge pretty much anything or anyone. You couldn't read their movements, but your body warned you everytime something dangerous would occur. It also helped a lot whenever you dropped something, multiple glasses of water weren't broken to this day.

All Might eventually left and you took a deep breath, you hadn't realized it earlier but you were shaking a little. Who wouldn't? You were going to become the new roommate of the worst criminal in all of Japan.

You unlocked the door and walked in with your luggages. To your surprise, the place was neat. You wouldn't need to clean on your first day, how great!

You looked around and realized that there was no one in sight. In all honesty, you didn't know how this new rehab program worked, should you tell him you were there? So he wouldn't jolt if he ever laid his eyes on you? Tightening the grip on your backpack, you shakily walked forward and closed the door behind you. "Hello?" Your voice trembled. "Um.. I'm your new roommate" Nothing happened, maybe you should've said you were the new therapist? Though, being the 10th one in the span of 2 months, you didn't think he'd care.

"Well.. I guess I'll put my stuff in the room.." You sighed to yourself, a bit relieved that he didn't directly jumped on you to try to kill you or something.

You removed your shoes and spotted a bright red pair of sneakers, they were too big to fit you. Maybe they were his? They looked almost new, guess he didn't go outside that much. You put your shoes next to them and walked towards the hallway. Based on what All Might had said, your bedroom was at the end of it and on the left.

The left door was wide open, and from what you could see inside, there was only a bed and a desk. You guessed that it was yours then, since it was empty. Right in front of your bedroom was a closed door, from the inside, you could hear noises. Mostly fast clicking and music. The sound was similar to when you used the buttons on a controller. You weren't unfamiliar with video games, but with your job, you didn't have that much time to play anymore.

Maybe you could play a bit today, you weren't planning on giving a therapy anyways as you would give yourself some time to unpack.

It was around 6pm when you were almost done unpacking most of your stuff. You just couldn't focus on that anymore when your stomach kept screaming that it was hungry. You sighed and got up. Fine, you'll eat, even if you would've preferred to finish placing your stuff first but your belly was being annoying.

Walking out of your new bedroom, you realized that Shigaraki's door was still closed. He only went to the bathroom once but you never saw him. You were inside your closet, folding clothes when you heard his bedroom door close. Maybe it was a missed opportunity, but you didn't want to force him either.

You entered the kitchen and looked inside the fridge and cupboards. After a few minutes of searching, you eventually decided to make some donburi for you and some for him too. Usually, you'd make food for yourself alone but you lived with someone now so, you thought about his stomach.

Multiple minutes later, as you were still cooking, you turned around and jolted very badly. Luckily, you didn't drop anything due to your quirk, but Shigaraki Tomura was standing right behind the kitchen island, staring at you.

Shigaraki was a bit taller than you, his scarlet eyes were almost hidden behind his long white locks. He was glaring at you like you didn't belong here, and truth to be told, you also felt like you didn't belong here either. But it was your job and you needed the money to pay for your bills.

You silently stared back, what were you supposed to do? Your breathing and heartbeat increased as you felt anxious in his company, but you tried your best to remain calm.

"H-Hey, uh, I'm… making dinner… It's.." You turned to look at the pot on the oven, then back at him. "..Not ready yet.." You almost talked in whispers, your throat wasn't able to talk louder, you were just too anxious. "Y-You like donburi?"

He didn't answer, instead he just walked back to his bedroom.

Well.. That was going to be interestingly awkward.

At least, he didn't try to kill you..

During the next week, you just calmly lived your life and Shigaraki lived his. He didn't do much except locking himself into his bedroom and sometimes walking out to go to the bathroom.

The second week was more.. Rough.

The young man had decided to threaten and provoke you.

You, personally, didn't know why.

But him? He was already sick of you. Why weren't you forcing him into therapy sessions? That was more than annoying, all the other therapists were just tossing him onto the couch and forced him to have a therapy. But you never did, why?

One day, it just slipped out of his mouth. "Why aren't you doing shit?"

He was standing at the edge of the living room, his hands in his hoodie's pocket. He was fuming, you could easily see it in his body language. Yet, sitting on the floor as you played your favourite video game, you only confusedly glanced back. You put your game on pause and turned to him. "What do you mean..? I've been cooking, cleaning-"

Tomura quickly interrupted you. "I'm not talking about those, idiot. Why the hell aren't you doing your job?"

You tilted your head to the side, slightly scared and still confused. "..You want a therapy?"

His expression switched for a second, you would've missed it if you had blinked. "Obviously not" He snarled.

"Then.. W-Why are you asking? Why would I force you?" You tried your best to stay calm as you weren't sure how he would react if he'd get mad. "My job is to help people, sure, but if you don't want any help, I can't do anything." You took a deep breath as he would probably not like how you would word what was next. "It's your problem, not mine. I can only do something, if you, want to get helped"

Tomura blinked, he looked surprised at your answers for a few seconds before he stormed back to his bedroom, slamming the door behind him.

You also blinked, not really understanding what was going on.

In the past two weeks, he had never talked to you this much. Were you progressing? Maybe.. Maybe not.

Part 2

Pt 3

[1caru]

About the Sword of Koholint Island. you know, the level two sword? I like to call it Dream Weaver. the dream world equivalent to the maser sword. the thing is, once someone draws it, it's theirs till death. and i like to imagine traveler with the other links getting ambushed, his sword gets sent flying and he's about to be struck down but then *flash!* a most familiar sword appears in his hands.....a sword that while it saves his life...brings back memories he finds too painful. and suddenly he's telling the gang about Marin, the island, and what he feels is his greatest crime... just to feel less....hurt inside.

does that sound like a thing? like a cool idea?

I'm so sorry it took me so long to respond to this! You caught me right at the beginning of one of my busiest college semesters yet lol

I love your idea, here's a short fic about it to make up for the wait!

(tw: panic attack)

"Can I get some help over here?!" Legend yelped, narrowly ducking under the swing of a darknut's blade. One of the Rancher's monsters, if he recalled correctly. He could hear the young man dramatically sharing the tale of how he had once faced down four of them at once, light from the campfire dancing excitedly in his eyes as he talked about how thrilling it was to hone his swordsmanship against such highly skilled and armored foes.

Legend had decided that the man was a lunatic.

"Give me a second!" Wind responded from a platform above Legend, "I've got a few more bubbles and floormasters to clear out!"

"No problem, take your time," Legend grumbled, bracing his shield against another heavy blow that made his teeth feel like they were going to rattle out of his skull. He sidestepped the next attack, trying to keep all the darknuts in his line of sight. One was still in full armor with a claymore, the other two had lost most of their armor and were wielding broadswords. Legend narrowed his eyes, focusing on the one that looked the most injured. He could probably take it down in another hit or two, as soon as he found an opening.

The darknut, unfortunately, was smart, and was generally keeping it's distance from him. The other sword-wielding darknut recognized Legend's plan and suddenly lunged forward in an attempt to catch him off guard while his focus was elsewhere.

Fine, guess that one was going down first then.

Legend dodged and quickly struck at the opening as hard as he could, causing the darknut to stumble. He pressed the advantage, raining down blows until the darknut finally collapsed and disappeared in a small cloud of inky smoke.

"Vet, look out!"

The other wounded darknut had closed the distance and attempted to use the smokescreen to help it run Legend through. The Vet simply grinned at the predictable strategy. He readied his sword to fell the monster.

Something bit into his shoulder, and the cold, unnatural sensation of a curse spread from the wound. His sword dropped from his grasp.

Right, Wind had mentioned bubbles.

Legend managed to raise his shield just in time, but the angle of the impact still sent him crashing to the ground. He caught a brief glimpse of his tempered sword's orange blade as it spun by him. He scrambled away from the remaining two darknuts and blindly, frantically, felt around for his weapon, praying for the bubble's curse to fade by the time he found it.

One of the Sailor's arrows flew by his head, pinning the bubble to the ground. It's curse lifted from Legend's shoulders.

The darknuts towered over him, their blades raised.

His fingers grazed a hilt, and the Veteran's heart lept.

He snatched up the blade and plunged it into the wounded darknut right as a battle cry sounded from the platform above and the Sailor dropped onto the head of the other darknut, his own sword sliding right into the gap in the monster's armor right by it's neck. Legend rolled out of the way of the darknut he had just slain as Wind jumped off of the remaining darknut, and together the heroes hacked off it's armor before finally taking it down.

They stood there in the now silent room for a moment, catching their breath.

"Well, that sucked," Legend groaned.

Wind had the audacity to giggle in response. "At least we managed to get out relatively unharmed! …You aren't seriously hurt, right?"

"No, just a lot of cuts and bruises, no big deal," Legend responded dryly, "I would like a nap, though."

"Yeah, a nap sounds good," Wind sighed. "Oh, you dropped your weird orange sword by the way, here!"

"Huh?"

Legend turned to find the tempered sword lying in Wind's hands.

"Where did you pull that other sword from anyway? It looked like it just appeared out of thin air!" Wind asked excitedly. "Is it magic?"

"But, I thought I-"

Legend looked down at the sword in his hands.

The very

very

very familiar sword…

Waves crashing on the shore. Seashells and sand between his fingers. Hair as fiery as the setting sun, and a smile just as radiant. A new blade to help him along his journey, the smell of sea salt forever ingrained in the leather handle.

It was a dream.

It was always a dream…

…

…Was this also… a…?

"-et, hey Vet! Link!"

Who was…

"Link, buddy, you gotta breathe, okay?"

Breathe…

His chest hurt.

"In and out, okay?"

He tried to take a breath, and almost immediately choked. He coughed violently, his chest burning.

"Hey, hey, you're okay. Just try again, okay Link?"

He managed one tiny breath. Then another.

Still too fast, way too fast, he wasn't doing it right, his heart was fluttering like a bird in a cage-

"You're doing great, buddy, take your time. Breathe like I do, okay?"

Someone was holding him. Their chest rose and fell against his cheek, slow and steady, an anchored ship riding the choppy waves. He held on as tightly as he could and listened to the rhythm.

In, out. In, out…

Slowly but surely, Link's breathing began to even out. He exhaled slowly, the motion shaky but relieved.

"Hey, buddy, you back with us?"

Oh, the Sailor was holding him.

"Y-yeah," Legend answered hoarsely, "Sorry to make you deal with that-"

"Hey, hey, none of that," Wind interrupted, holding Legend tighter, "We've all gone through stuff like that, you know? I'll always be happy to help you."

Tears began to gather in Legend's eyes, but he quickly blinked them away. "Okay," he said softly, "Thank you, Sailor."

Wind hummed happily. "Are you ready to get out of here, away from… well, whatever sword that is?"

Legend froze, suddenly catching sight of the blade that lay on the ground by their feet.

It was still there. He hadn't hallucinated it. Why was it still there?

He broke away from the hug, instead holding Wind by the shoulders so that he could look the boy directly in the eyes. The bright blue tunic was soft beneath his fingers in spite of the fairly thick layer of dust and grime from the battle that covered it. Body heat seeped through the fabric. Worry and confusion swam in Wind's eyes.

Legend braced himself.

"Sailor… this might sound like a weird question, but… are you real?"

"I- what?"

"Please," Legend begged, "Just… tell me. Are you real?"

Wind placed his hands over Legend's. "I believe I am. Why do you think I might not be?"

The Vet glanced back down at the sword, still lying on the ground next to his usual tempered blade. "That sword… it's from one of my adventures. In that adventure, I met and grew close to a lot of people. But… it was all a dream. None of it was real, not the island, not that sword, not a single person except me."

He looked up at Wind, eyes frantic. "That sword shouldn't exist, but it does! You can see it, I can see it, but it was just a dream! It was only ever a dream! So please, tell me, what does that make you?"

Wind simply stared back at him in shock.

Legend's shoulders slumped.

"Please…"

He bowed his head in defeat, tears beginning to drip down his cheeks.

"Hey, Vet, hold on," Wind said gently. "Don't give up, we don't have proof either way yet."

"Why's that?" Legend croaked.

"Well, you know, I also had an adventure in a dream. Maybe."

Legend's ears flicked in surprise.

"It was the domain of the Ocean King, a kind of whale deity I think."

Legend's head shot up at that, his eyes wide.

"It was a separate place from my own Great Sea, and no time passed while I was there, but you know what? I had a friend there who was able to come with me back to my world, even though he was from the Ocean King's domain. Do you think, maybe, that sword did something similar?"

"I…" Legend trailed off uncertainly, "I don't know. I didn't think that was possible."

Wind thought for a moment. "Oh, do you have some way to check whether you're awake or asleep? And don't say that you stab yourself or something!" he added quickly, "Because I won't allow that!"

Legend nearly laughed in spite of himself. "No, I don't do that, too risky." He removed his hands from Wind's shoulders to dig through his item pouch, eventually coming up with a small, worn ocarina. "I have a song that can wake anything, even a deity."

Wind giggled softly. "I guess I should have expected that from you. Well, go ahead and play it!"

Legend hesitated, staring at the ocarina.

"Sailor, if… if we are sleeping, and this song wakes us up… we might never see each other again. We might never see the others again either." His hands shook. "I-I'm not ready for that."

A soft, encouraging smile shone on the boy's face. "Veteran, do you wanna know something? I don't think either of us are asleep. I believe this whole adventure has been real. I believe the Champion's cooking was real, and I believe the Captain's playful banter with you was real, and I believe Sky's excitement when we asked about his wood carvings was real."

He cupped his hands around Legend's, holding the ocarina with him as if he was making a wish on it.

"I believe the Smithy's annoyance when that like-like almost ate his shield was real, and I believe the Old Man's smile when he saw Miss Malon again was real. I believe the magic that the Traveler used when he refused to give up on our Rancher was real, and I believe that the strength that the Rancher showed when he returned from the brink was real. I believe that all the time I spent with you, and all the time you spent with us, all of it was real, Veteran. I believe that with my whole heart."

Legend let out a shaky breath as he met Wind's earnest gaze.

"Trust me," Wind said, "Play it. I'm not going anywhere, I promise."

Slowly, very slowly, the Veteran brought the ocarina to his lips.

"I'm holding you to that promise," he muttered softly, and he began to play.

The Ballad of the Windfish broke the silence of the dungeon, it's notes echoing off the vast stone walls in an utterly beautiful and haunting way. Legend nearly fumbled some of the notes as he felt the song's magic begin to flow, but Wind rested a comforting hand on his leg to steady him.

Trust.

The two heroes closed their eyes as the music washed over them. The notes climbed higher, higher, then…

They stopped.

Silence.

Legend opened his eyes to find Wind smiling back at him.

Nothing had changed.

Legend let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding and pulled the boy into an embrace. He buried his face in Wind's shoulder, whispering thanks to the goddesses over and over.

Wind held him just as tightly. "I told you, I told you!" he cheered, bouncing up and down a little in excitement.

The Vet pulled away just enough to give Wind a watery grin. "You did. Thanks, kid. I don't know what I would have done without you."

"Hmm, I'll give you a pass on calling me a kid this one time," Wind teased. "Oh, sword's still there, by the way."

"So it is," Legend hummed. "…I think I'm too exhausted to further consider the implications of that right now, though."

"Me too," Wind agreed as he rose to his feet and offered a hand to Legend, "Want to go find the others and leave this problem for future us?"

Legend looked at the two swords for a moment, then carefully ran his fingers over the Koholint sword as if to confirm it was still real. He sighed and sheathed the tempered sword on his back before picking up the Koholint sword. As soon as the thought of where he would store it crossed his mind, it vanished in his hand. He blinked in surprise, then tried willing it back into existence. It reappeared right back in his hand. He vanished it again, and turned to take Wind's hand.

"Yeah, leaving this for later sounds good."

[nightblackowlbat]

Unfinished Hiraishin: (Scars) laid bare

A close call in battle forces Tobirama to use an unfinished hiraishin to dodge a lethal blow. The teleportation works in that it transports him to safety… but only him. His weapons, armor and clothes are all left behind. Hashirama is shocked at the whip scars revealed on Tobirama’s back, Madara is shocked at how fine dat ass is and Izuna is traumatized at seeing his rival naked.

It was a seemingly normal skirmish with the Senju when Izuna let out a cry that had every Uchiha’s blood run cold.

“Argh! My eyes!”

Madara’s gaze whipped to his brother’s fight only to find…

“You bastard, how dare you flash your pasty ass while I’m wielding my sharingan? Don’t you know it’s burned into my memory now?! That’s not a sight I want to remember for as long as I live!”

Izuna’s face was beet red as he stared up to the sky and fended off ninjutsu flung his way by a very naked Tobirama.

“Then allow me to shorten your lifespan for you and stop moving!” Said man growled in frustration. The sound paired with such a sight brought a deep flush to Madara’s face.

“Izuna! What is going on? Why is the Senju attacking you in the nude?”

“The fuck if I know aniki, he just used some technique to move faster than I could see and next thing I know I’m cursed with the sight of this!”

Hashirama squawked, his half assed fight with Madara becoming a true farce as both their attention was stolen by their little brothers. “Tobi this is wildly inappropriate! We’ve talked about using untested experiments on the battlefield!”

“Well it was either that or die so excuse me for choosing this humiliation!” Tobirama snapped back as he danced away from a hail of flaming kunai. The evasion turned his back to the elder pair and Madara’s sharingan drank in the so called pasty ass that Izuna had complained about. He had no such complaints. Hot damn. Wait what?

Hashirama’s focus was taken by the sight of his brothers bare shoulders. The skin that Tobirama religiously covered with his fur was gnarled and scarred: striped by ropes of raised flesh. He couldn’t help but gasp out at the sight, baffled as to when his little brother could have sustained such a horrendous injury.

“Tobi! Your back!”

Tobirama ducked as if to avoid a blow from behind, but of course none came. That wasn’t what Hashirama meant. It put him at a bad position to dodge a gout of flame Izuna sent his way and Tobirama cursed as he hastily erected an earth wall.

“Anija, my opponent might be refusing to look at me but I am still unarmed and at a disadvantage so I would appreciate you not distracting me with false warnings about other attacks!”

But Hashirama’s distress was not to be deterred. “No, I mean what happened to your back?! Those scars…”

Madara’s attention was finally pulled from ogling other assets (really, those thighs looked delicious) to see what the tree head was talking about. He winced in sympathy when he did. That was some of the worst lashing damage he had ever seen.

Tobirama did that growly thing that had Madara’s insides flip flopping again. “Really anija? What did you think happened when father found out I knew you were sneaking out to meet an Uchiha for months?”

“Father did that to you!?” Hashirama wailed in disbelief.

Madara wasn’t so surprised. He’d always known Senju Butsuma was a cruel man. No, what did surprise him was- “What do you mean you knew about us for months?”

“I’m the best sensor in fire, of course I knew!” Tobirama’s shout held a tint of frustration as his attempt to retrieve his fallen sword was thwarted by another fire jutsu. “Anija was strong enough to handle it so I let it be. I only alerted father when I felt two other Uchiha headed his way.”

“Tobi I never knew…” Hashirama sniffled. By now he’s given up all pretense of fighting Madara to stare forlornly at his little brother.

“You never used your damn brain!” Tobirama snapped back. “Instead of thinking what would have happened if I let you be ambushed by two more Uchiha you just let your emotions rule your actions like always and shunned me for perceived betrayal while I was whipped for covering for you! Now shut up and let me fight. I need to end this before I’m left with no chakra on top of no weapons.”

“Izuna! Stop attacking!” Madara commanded. If what the other man said was true, and really it only made sense, then he owed him at least this.

“Wha- aniki are you crazy? He’ll kill me! I refuse to die at the hand of a naked man!” Izuna protested.

“Did I say stop defending? No moron, stop attacking. Let the Senju get dressed and you won’t die by nude ninjutsu.”

What followed was the most awkward and tense redressing Madara had ever born witness to and that included the morning after the time he got drunk and accidentally slept with his cousin.

Once Tobirama was dressed, Hashirama took the chance to call for a retreat before their brothers could go back at it again.

[sweettofuki]

Hoshina Soushirou | Sparring in the dead of night

genre: Fluff, slow burn, sexual tension. Pairing: hoshina x fem summary: y/n was training alone one night when Hoshina noticed the door was ajar. As they sparred together, they sensed a deeper tension between them. a/n: I honestly wanted to just write about how y/n licked the blood coming from her nose off smexily. So the ending might not be smooth. Petnames: doll, sweetheart. WC: 1.8k

“Fuck” you exclaimed. You didn’t dodge in time when a kick landed on your gut.

“Too slow,” Hoshina said, with a smug grin, begging to be punched off. At least that’s what you have been trying to do the past hour…

Hoshina slowly circled me. “Focus up y/n. Or not the next kick will end up not just on your stomach.”

[☆]

Y/n is a highly skilled recruit with extensive combat experience, having been trained in self-defense from a young age, and taught by her military father. Hence, earning her a top position among few recruits in her platoon, with exceptional combat abilities.

During the recruitment exam, when you donned the combat tech suit, your unreleased combat power was 11%—notably higher than the average recruit entering the defense force.

However, ever since you joined the Third Division, you couldn’t help being competitive and insecure about your strength.

During the third phase of the recruitment exam, you realized the huge gap between you and this year’s recruits in terms of strength, skill, and experience in neutralizing kaijus.

Having to compete against other recruits who had studied years of Kaiju neutralization before entering the Defence Force. Not to mention having a current unreleased combat power of 18%. Days go by as you watch your colleagues get stronger every day while you feel yourself falling behind.

What’s worse is that you’re not the only one who noticed this. Recently, the vice-captain had been pushing you harder during drills. “y/n! Three more laps!”

Under Vice Captain Hoshina’s piercing gaze, nothing escapes his sight.

[☆]

Hence why you have been staying up late at night to practice. Every night when everyone had already gone to bed, you silently make your way to the training room. Tonight was like any other, with you absorbed in your sparring session with a dummy, venting your frustrations.

Deeply lost in your thoughts, you didn't notice the training room door was slightly ajar.

“Oho, working hard I see.” you got startled by your Vice Captain’s voice out of nowhere. You turned around to see him leaning against the doorframe.

“Sleeping’s part of the job too ya know,” Hoshina said, wearing his usual coy expression.

“Jesus Christ. You can’t just sneak up on me like that! How long have you been standing there??”

He chuckled. “Long enough to see that you could use some extra help.”

He slowly strolled towards me, hands deep in the pockets of his jacket.

You narrowed your eyes. “Please, enlighten me,” you said.

“First off, your form is wrong. You need to widen your standing stance and strike low to get a more powerful punch.” He smiled, slyly. Then he pushed your feet back using his leg. “Try it.”

You stare at him for a moment, processing his words, before getting into his stance and following through. BAM! The dummy flew backward.

You raised your eyebrows. “I can’t believe his advice actually worked.”

Hoshina whistled. “Nice one y/n. “

"Now.” He added with a sly grin, “Would you like me to show you more ‘extra help’?”

He said as he unzipped his jacket, revealing a tight shirt underneath that barely left anything to the imagination. His biceps strained against the arms of his shirt, emphasizing his broad shoulders, now visible without his baggy jacket. He stretched his arms as he stalked over, a glimpse of skin peeked out from under his shirt.

“Shall we begin?”

And that’s how it led to both of you sparring in the dead of the night.

[☆]

You doubled over, the pain radiating through your entire midsection. You could still feel the rush of air escaping from your lungs where he kicked you.

You tried to walk it off, refusing to let him see how much it hurt.

“Oho. Acting strong now? Not bad though, I will give you that. Ya have a strong gut. Usually, with that kick, my opponents would be sent backward like that dummy.”

You clicked your tongue against your teeth. “Fuck o—”

“I suggest you not to finish that y/n. Unless you want to end up like your colleague Furuhashi. He had to do 100 push-ups cuz’ of that.” He warned sternly. However, despite the tone of his voice, his expression said otherwise. His eyes glinted with amusement, and his grin widened menacingly.

We slowly began to circle one another, refusing to back down from the other. Our eyes locked in a deadly stare-off, beckoning the other to move first.

Tick. Tick. Tick. In silence, the clock on the wall ticks every second.

Once the second-hand clock struck midnight, both of you surged forward simultaneously. You unleashed a series of calculated strikes, testing your opponent's defenses. Your punches were swift, but Hoshina matched your move for move, deflecting each blow with precision and practiced ease.

Feeling a surge of frustration, you switched tactics, got down, and swiped your leg over Hoshina’s legs. Unfortunately, Hoshina has fast reflexes and jumps in time to avoid your attack.

As soon as you stood back up, he feinted a low kick before aiming a high roundhouse toward your head at lightning speed.

You couldn’t counter in time.

In a split second, your world exploded into pain as a powerful kick crashed into your temple. The impact sent shockwaves through your skull, and you felt liquid warmth trickling down your face.

You staggered back, stunned by the force of the blow. Blood streamed from your nose, splattering on the mat below. You blinked rapidly, trying to clear your vision. Through your blurry vision, you caught a flicker of hesitation in Hoshina's eyes before he closed in, seizing the advantage.

“As a recruit, you should always be on alert and ready for surprise attacks.” He says, throwing another punch.

Gritting your teeth against the pain, you raised your guard, blocking another aim at my midsection. You struggled to regain your footing, your head still spinning from the blow. Every movement felt sluggish, your body protesting the punishment it had endured.

You staggered back again and wiped off some blood from your upper lip with your thumb. Your eyes flickered down at your bloodied thumb. Then you chuckled before locking eyes on Hoshina, swiping your tongue to lick the blood off your upper lip. “Playing dirty are we, Vice Captain?” you grinned.

Hoshina froze, his eyes locked on the blood on your lips. Unbeknownst to you, his mind raced with several thoughts, his heart pounding faster. No matter how deeply he breathed, it felt like you were stealing all his air. Slowly, warmth crept into his cheeks.

“Fuck, I need a cold shower after this,” he thought, unable to tear his gaze away from you.

He snapped out of his thoughts and refocused on you.

Fortunately for him, despite his internal turmoil, his expression remained nonchalant.

You lunged at him once more. He countered with a punch, but this time, you swiftly dodged and side-stepped. With a surge of determination, you used his forward momentum and threw him over your shoulders.

You quickly straddled his hips and held onto his wrists, pinning him down on the mat.

You breathed heavily down at him, still feeling the adrenaline coursing through your veins.

I stared down at him, his usual fox-like eyes widened with shock.

“What was that you said? As a Vice Captain, you should always be on alert and ready for surprise attacks. You should start showing an example Vice Captain Hoshina.” I grinned smugly.

A moment of surprise wrote on his face before his face became blank. An indifferent expression with a slight tilt at the end of his lips.

“HUHH? There was barely any force in that throw! And you finally landed a hit on me the past two hours.” His eyebrows furrowed.

“Pshaw. I would still take it as an improvement.” I smirked.

“Doll, if you want bigger improvements, I would suggest training more. Maybe with me, privately.” Hoshina said, lowering his voice on the last part as his warm hands gently wrapped around mine.

“W-what?” You said softly, warmth rushed to your face.

He effortlessly pushed you up and sat up as if your weight pinning him down meant nothing. In that brief moment, with his face mere centimeters from yours, you could have sworn his eyes flickered down to your lips. His hands gripped your hips momentarily... before gently pushing you off and rising to his feet. Bending down, he extended his hand to help you up.

“I meant that you can always come to me if you want to train. My door is always open,” he said, raising an eyebrow and stifling a chuckle at the sight of your flushed cheek.

“Yeah I knew that,” you mumbled.

A moment passed before you realized you were still holding his hand. Embarrassed, you tried to pull away, but he swiftly grabbed your hand back and pulled you toward him. His free hand cupped your chin, forcing you to look at him.

Your eyes widened in shock, but when you met his gaze, you saw his crimson eyes were just as wide.

Before he realized what he was doing, he reached for your hand, grieving the lost warmth as he interlocked his fingers with yours.

He cursed silently in his head.

As you stare deep into his crimson eyes, you feel a mixture of nervousness and excitement. The intensity of his gaze is captivating you, making it impossible to look away. You feel the rest of the world fade away as time seems to stand still, leaving just the two of you in this moment.

His grip on your hand tightens slightly, and you can feel the warmth radiating from his skin, sending shivers down your spine. The air between you crackles with an unspoken tension, and for a fleeting second, you wonder if he feels it too.

His thumb reached up to rub the blood off your lips, lingering there for a moment.

"How is your head? Is it still in pain?" he asked softly.

"Y-yeah I'm okay." You stammered. "I'm kind of getting headache now though." you added as you narrowed your eyes at him.

Hoshina chuckled lowly. "My bad doll. I swear I didn't mean to hit you that hard! I'm sorry."

He removed a strand of hair from your face and tucked it behind your ear. His hand stayed there and gently rubbed your cheek, as if to apologise.

The intensity of his gaze mixed with your anxiousness got to you, so you turned your head away.

“Look at me, sweetheart,” he said softly, in a gentle command.

You followed the force of his hand as he tilt your head back to him. “If…you keep looking at me like that,” you mumbled. “You might make me think that you actually like me.”

He paused for a moment, hesitating to say his next few words.

It made you wonder if you had spoken out of turn, if this wasn't what you had imagined.

“Y/n, I—”

RINGGG

Suddenly, a burst of alarm interrupted him.

“A kaiju alert,” he said. “Couldn’t come at a better time than this..” he sighed as he looked back down at you.

“Let’s continue this after the mission, shall we, Doll?” he said.

“As long as you promise to stay alive instead of sacrificing yourself.” You said, raising your eyebrows at him.

“For you, I will.” He said as he smiled softly.

[butterflybuckethat]

Stranger Places

🦋 Masterlist 🦋

I'm back at it again trying to combat writer's block. Hope you like it!

Notes: Carmen Berzatto x Fem!Reader; Carmy finds you drunk in the bathroom of The Bear. (1.8k words)

Warnings: Slow burn, toxic ex-boyfriends, drunkenness

Chef Carmen Berzatto designed the restroom of The Bear as a complement to the main dining room, extending its warm minimalism to the wide sink basin, pale wood shelves and simple fixtures, all tied together by a signature scent of jasmine and oud. Not that you noticed any of this, your head being in the toilet and all. 

“Cousin!” Richie was forming a plan, which always meant bad news for Carmy. A line started forming outside the bathroom. “I told you we should’ve put in two.”

“Would you shut the fuck up, Richard?” Today was not the day. It had barely been a week since the deep freeze incident, and Carmy still felt shaky at the helm. They were half a turn behind.

“Fuck you, Carmen. How am I the only one taking this seriously?” 

“We need to focus.”

“No, we need to get whoever’s puking in the bathroom up outta there.” Carmy took a deep breath, forcing his gaze off the tickets. Richie continued, “if people think our food makes people sick...” His eyes blew wide, head bobbing, as if this were a foregone conclusion. “Okay?” 

Carmen looked at him, practically flinching when Sydney yelled “hands.” Lately, he had seriously been considering the thought that he was a bad person. He knew that Sydney was capable—in fact, he would proudly describe her as brilliant—but, after she took over for him that night, everyone else saw it too. And yet, he was reluctant to hand her his position. 

“This is big picture shit, Carm.” Richie said, softer this time, using Sugar’s words against him: some things are more important. 

“Syd,” he could barely look at her. She moved into his spot, as if it were the easiest thing in the entire world, and began arranging the tickets, yelling commands. Carmy balled his hands, pushing the air out of his lungs. He didn’t resent her, he just hated himself. “Do we still have those water guns?”

“Fuck,” you spat into the toilet. Everything was spinning. This was a new low, touching your forehead to a public toilet just to feel the cold porcelain, and you had no idea how you got here. You were drinking wine! You never got drunk from wine. At least, not like this. You hadn’t been this obliterated since college, the night Mark joined Sigma and introduced you to jungle juice. You retched again, just thinking about it. 

You tried to stand, digging your nails into the ridges between the subway tiles. But you stumbled, knocking into little decorative objects so meticulously placed on a shelf, and sunk back the floor. “Fuck.” You wanted to cry, but everything was so out of control. You tried focusing your sight on the now headless ceramic bear by your stockinged foot when there was an urgent knock on the door. 

“Hello?” It came in all muffled.

“Mark?” you responded; voice hoarse. The doorknob jiggled.

“Are you okay? Can you unlock—” the voice was drowned out by cheers in the rest of the restaurant.

“What?”

“Can you unlock the door?” he repeated louder. You crawled over on your hands and knees and turned the lock. The knob turned and the door cracked open.

“Wait!” You pushed it shut. He tried to open the door again but you leaned against it, hastily smoothing your hair and wiping the makeup from underneath your eyes. Mark had seen you worse but that was when you were still together. It’s different now. “Okay,” you slurred, scooting out of the way and letting him in. You looked up. “You’re not Mark.”

It was a hassle getting you into the office. Carmy had you by the waist, dodging the squirt guns and confetti that came with the impromptu surprise, while you stumbled and swayed in the opposite direction.

“I’ll be right back,” he reassured once he got you settled in a chair with a big bottle Pellegrino and an uneven slice of bread. Richie and the sommelier, Ernesto, were waiting for him outside.

“Nice,” Richie pointed to the puke that rubbed off from your dress onto his shirt.

“Whatever,” Carmy responded, deciding it wasn’t worth it to mention that Richie’s suit was half soaked and covered in glitter. “What’s up Ernesto?”

He looked to Richie first which made Carmen’s palms sweat. “They only ordered two bottles.” Ernesto spoke quietly, wringing a towel in his hands.

“They?” Carmy asked, patting the kid on the shoulder to try and ease his nerves.

“She was sitting with some guy.”

“Who is this guy?”

“How should I fucking know? It’s a woman’s name on the reservation.” Carmen wondered, not for the first time, if Richie was capable of speaking at a reasonable volume.

“I don’t know, ask him?”

“He left.” Ernesto added.

“Don’t you have a receipt, credit card, something?” 

“He ran.” Richie was practically giddy. “Look at this.” He carefully unwrapped two empty wine glasses from a linen napkin.

“What’s this CSI?” Carmy scoffed.

“Just look,” Richie lifted the first glass up to the light. “What do you see?”

“There’s a lipstick st—”

“There’s a lipstick stain, right.” Carmy was very quickly losing patience. “The girl clearly drank from this glass.”

“Can you get to the fucking point, please?”

“Look at his,” he held the second one up. “Notice anything?”

He squinted, searching for something to find, “No.”

“Exactly.” The glass was pristine, not even a smudge. “Thanks, Ernesto.” Richie dismissed.

“Wait,” Carmen stopped him. “You poured him a glass?”

“Both of them, yeah.”

 “And you kept pouring hers?”

 “No, he did all the pouring.”

 You felt like shit; your head was pounding. The seltzer had settled your stomach a bit but you couldn’t bring yourself to touch the bread. And, to make matters worse, you were surrounded by strangers, with puke on your favorite dress, and where the fuck was Mark?

 “How are you feeling?”

 You peeked through your fingers. Carmen. “Horrible. How do I look?” You began to stand, tentatively.

He let out a little laugh.

“Jesus, you’re laughing?” you asked, incredulous.

“No, of course not.” But he had this fucking smile on his face.

“What the fuck?” You did a little shimmy, tugging down your dress, and flipped your hair which did little more than make you woozy. “How about now?” you asked after steadying yourself on his desk.

His eyes raked over you. You watched them land on your thighs, the curve of your waist, your clavicle. “You look great.” 

You cleared your throat, hoping to mask the shiver that ran down your spine. “Great,” you said. You took a sip of the Pellegrino, swished it around your mouth and headed for the door.

“Wait, where are you going?” Carmen outstretched his tattooed arms, blocking your path. Your eyes widened, suddenly understanding what a compromising situation you seem to have gotten yourself in. But he backed away immediately, taking a few steps out of your way. “I-I just meant…are you sure you’re feeling well enough?”

 “I’m here with someone,” you explained, shoulders relaxing.

“Yeah…”

How was he supposed to tell you? “I think you should sit,” he started.

“Did something happen to Mark?” Your eyes widened, “is he sick too?” 

Carmy felt an unexpected wave of rage. You were concerned for him? This fucking bastard “Mark?” “Please sit.”

He watched as you tugged the hem of your dress and sat primly. Carmy knelt in front of you, hands ghosting your calves. He was trying to be comforting which he had never really had to be before, being the youngest. He suddenly wished Sugar were around. “He left.”

“Left?” you repeated, crease forming between your brows.

“Ditched.” Carmy braced himself for your emotional fallout. But all that came was a bitter laugh.

“What a fucking asshole.”

He searched your face, looking for some kind of explanation. “First date?”

“That would be less embarrassing. Ex-boyfriend.” You leaned back, causing the leather to exhale.

“Did he do that often? Get you drunk and leave you with the bill?” Carmen didn’t mean for that to come out so bitter. He barely understood why he was getting so worked up over this. 

“Oh shit. I’m so sorry. Obviously, I’ll pay. I think my purse…” You just looked so helpless. You got a raw deal and Carmen just wanted to make sure you were okay. Big picture and all that. What kind of restaurant owner would he be if he just let shit like this happen at his place?

“No, that’s not- That’s not why I brought it up.” You looked at him. The color had returned to your cheeks, making your smudged makeup look less scary and more…hot. 

“Thank you,” you blushed. “I’ve caused you enough suffering, I’m sure. I should really get going.” There really wasn’t much he could offer you but he didn’t want you to leave.

“Are you hungry?”

Was this pathetic? To be letting the man whose restaurant you just violated cook you a grilled cheese? You had a distinct feeling you were engaging in behavior your mother warned you about.

“How do you want it cut?” Carmen asked, towel slung over his shoulder. 

“Triangles, please.”

“Excellent choice,” he mumbled. You couldn’t help but admire his broad shoulders and biceps that strained the material of his perfect white shirt. He set the plate in front of you. “So, what happened with you and the guy?”

“Asking the hard questions first, huh?” You grabbed half of the sandwich, licking your lips at the stretch of the cheese, and pushed the rest of it towards Carmen.

“It’s for you.”

“We can’t share?” He picked up the other half and took a bite, making you smile. But it was short lived, he pressed the question. “I don’t know. We dated.”

“How long?”

“Five years.” You shrugged, as if it were nothing. This was a practiced movement; one you’d perfected for a while now. 

“Oh.” Carmen put the sandwich down.

“It’s been two years,” you assured. “It’s not like— It’s not like I’m still in love with him or something.”

“Then why’d you meet up with him?” 

“What’s with the third degree?” You got down from where you were sitting on the counter. The Bear had long closed and you and Carmen were the only ones left in the kitchen. “You don’t even know me.”

“Your puke on my shirt feels pretty fucking personal.” His voice was soft, not a hint of anger or frustration. He looked tired all of a sudden, like he lost something.

“You don’t even know my name.” You spoke quietly and he inched closer, wanting to hear you. You could smell the candle, the jasmine and oud, faint on him.

“I know your name.”

“Yeah, what is it?” He was taller than you; not by much, but enough that you had to tilt you head to look him in the eyes. Bright blue.

“Milly.”

You were just staring at him, for a while, a mix of shock and confusion on your face. Did he do something wrong? “What did I say?” He asked, placing his palm on your waist.

“I should go.” You pulled away from him. Carmy wanted to pull you back but you were already halfway across the room. He could’ve kicked himself.

“I’m sorry,” he followed, watching you move things around the office. You were unsteady on your heels. Carmen rushed to help support you but you recoiled, like his touch burned. He apologized again. “Can I help you?”

“No, I got it.” You said, pulling your clutch out from behind a stack of bills.

“Can I at least take you home?” He offered, now standing on your far opposite.

“Uber.” You shook your phone. You weren’t unkind. He was a stranger after all, but he could’ve cried anyways. You made your way to the front of the restaurant, your Uber came quick. “Thanks for your help, Carmen. And the meal.” You pushed the door open, a burst of cold Chicago air cut through him.

“I’m sorry, Milly.”

“That’s not my name.” And you were gone.

Part II