#if something doesn’t have an Exact List Of Steps than I will never touch said thing again

[ctommyisnt]

Arfhhffhjf thinking of trying to draw again but every time I’ve tried has been super disheartening

[hoodievixen]

With My Own Eyes - Part 7 (Dream of the Endless x OC)

Based off of this

Summary: Morpheus just wanted to keep his soulmate safe. She just wanted to make her own decisions. Doesn't help that he doesn't show her his face.

Words Count: ~ 2 K

Warnings: swearing, mentions of blood, witchcraft, bad grammar and even worse spelling, !Comic Spoilers!

A/N:  Ya know what, f*ck it! I'm writing the parts I want to, no more filler I don't want to write.

Tag List:   @intothesoul @  poemfreak306  ​

Master List

Lily was walking beside Morpheus as they walked between locations. She looked over to the horizon, looking at the sun set. It had been a long day, and it wasn't even done yet. And she was so appreciative for it. "Thanks," she said to Morpheus through the familiar science.

"For what?" he asked, genuinely unaware of what she was greatful for.

"Not treating me any different," Lily answered. "Usually when people learn about my chronic pain, they treat me like something fragile, like I need to be taken care of. But you didn't. Like we're out here walking around just like we did my second day here. I wouldn't know what to do if someone else constantly took care of me. Like I'm not glass, I won't break that easily."

Dream paused to watch her. She wore such a sweet genuine smile ad her face was lit up by the sunset. He felt so guilty. That was the exact reason he brought her with him today. He didn't want her to leave his sight, incase something happened. Dream did not want her to experience any more pain, but incase she did, he wanted to be there. But since he could not abandon his own duties, he brought her along, where she showd to be helpful.

-----

Lily couldn't get the dumb smile off her face. She loved today. It was like she ha been a kid again. It all started with her jumping off the bridge to the castle to the lake below. It was the world of dreams, with the king at her side, there was nothing she needed to be afraid of.

She and Dream walked back into the palace long after the sun had set. "Please," she pleaded with him. She held up her reaction, dropping quire few flower in the process. "I made it for you," she said about the flower crown. Lily was already wearing her own.

"And it is quite lovely," he assured her.

The two had quickly made their way to the throne room. "There you are my lord," Lucienne commented, "Did he two of you enjoy your day."

"Indeed", Dream answered.

"It was fun," Lily gave a fraction more of detail.

The librarian smiled, "I am glad to hear that."

Her expression returned to that of business. "My Lord, might I have a word with you in the library?"

Lily was quick to pick up when she wasn't wanted. "I'll get going," she assured them, "I should get some him in my stomach." The witch walked out, still doing so him with the collection of flowers in her arms.

"What is it Lucienne?" the dream lord asked, already haven taken of his helm.

The librarian gave him a look of disamusement. "You still refuse to show her your face?" she wondered in a way that was more closer to scolding than asking. "Clearly things are going well. If you want to proceed with this relationship, you are doing to need to take that step."

"I don't not wish to risk anything," Dream reminded her, "She'll see my face when the time is right."

-------

Dream wasn't sure what to think I the smile Lily wore. It was muh loer to a smirk. How ere the blush on her cheeks was a good sighn. "Never durst a poet touch a pen to write," she tried to disregard all that was in his hear dealt letter with the quote.

"Until his ink was tempered with love's sigh," He finished the quote for her.

He hel onto her hand lowering his head to her. "It has a precious seeing to the eye: A lover's eyes will gaze an eagle blind: a loves ears will hear the lowest sound." Whole it was not the same quote it did one from the same source material.

Sibyl snorted, "So you know Shakespeare."

"Hes more of a business aquantence than anything, we did have a deal or his insperation," Dream commented nonchalantly.

"What!?" she dramatically yelled in disbelief. "You can't just say something like that without an explanation!"

------

Sibyl thought she was being clever. She really just wanted to see his face. It felt off relation all these feeling of fondness toward a mosquito like face, knowing there was so thin else beneath it. She had already done portraits for Lucienne and a handful of others who were will. To it for a sketch. Sue they wee enor masterpieces, but Sibyl quite liked the collection he was a assembling. Of course a collection of portraits of a royal ourt would be nothing without a portrait of it's king.

Dream still reused to take of his helm, saying that there was no rush to do his painting, as there were still many castle residences that she had yet to do.

Lily came up with a compromise. She grabbed a sketch book as well as pencils. "How about you tell m what you look like, and I try to draw you," she offered, "Sorta like a police sketch."

Dream said nothing.

Sibyl wasn't sure what that meant so she started to ask questions. "What color is your hair," she asked hesitantly, wanting to jot down notes of colors.

"Black," he softly answers, "And my eyes are of stars."

That was all she was able to get out of him.

------

Lily sat on the stairs near Dream. While she had a sketchbook beside her, she wasn't drawing in it, to distracted by the pain in her lower abdomen, and the counsil the king of the realm was giving to his subjects.

"Thank you my lord," the dream said, containing excitement. They bowed to Dream before turning to Sibyl. "My lady."

Her eyebrows quirked, but the dream was already rushing out before she could say anything. It took her long enough to get Lucienne to stop calling her that all the time, she didn't want to with every other resident of the Dreaming. "Why do people call me that?" she complained.

"It is the most common form of respect they can give," Morpheus explained, "Do you wish for them to call you something different? Just say the word, and it shall be so."

Sibyl leaned back against the stairs, somehow both relevwainf ache and causing more. "Can't they just ya know, use my name," she pointed out, "I'd even accept Miss Crow, it's what my students call me."

"Lily," Dream called out calmly, "They dare not disrespect you. After all we are fated." He gestured to her arm. She had recently worn shorter sleeves more often so it was viable there amongst her tattoos, Dream of the Endless.

Lily rubbed the heel of her palm against it as if trying to rub it off. "But it's not like we're married or anything," she pointed out. "... What even is our relationship..?" Her voice was soft, barely a whisper.

Dream intertwined his fingers with hers, holding her hold before she found something else to occupy her fidgety fingers. "I have expressed my intent to court you since you arrived in the Dreaming," he pointed out, "Might I point out you've been returning such actions recently as well."

Sibyl looked at him, pressing her lips together. Everything was so much weirdsd cause of him helm. It would be so much easier to accepted it, if there wasn't a blatant sign he didn't trust her. But there was little denying it, "I guess we're dating."

-------

Sibyl had fallen asleep in the library. Across the table before her were grimores of old, as well as her notes of them. So many of the witch stories have been lost to time and man, he was glad there was at least one person left to find the meaning and uses they hold.

Dream reached out a crossed her check. She let out a little mumble, but stayed asleep. She wasn't likely going to walk back to her own chambers. Still Dream did not wanting her to wake up more sore than she already would be.

Lily was weightless in his arms as he carried her to her room. She continued to sleep, curled up against him, breath tickling his neck. It had been quite warm in the Dreaming that day, and Sibyl had dressed as soon, with much skin on show. He knew she was still rather modest in modern standard, but he had not been there for the development for those standards. So of course it would be hard for him touching the bare skin of the woman he loves.

The way she grips onto him as he set her down is aching. He gives into her tugs, laying down next to her. She looked so peaceful asleep, her mind dreamless. How he'd love to fill her mind of the sweetest dreams, but dare not risk her safety with her physically being in the Dreaming.

There was however another way he could bring her pleasure.

-----

Lily woke up with a groan. Not from her stubbornness of wanting to stay asleep. It was more so brought about by the sensation of lips kissing the inside of her legs. But still with her eyes open she saw nothing but darkness, as there was a had over her eyes.

"You can go back to sleep, Love," a soft voice cooed before a light kiss was pressed against her jaw.

"Morpheus," she declared, in both confusion and excitement. To kiss her he had to remove his helm, meaning if he were to remove his hand she be able to see his face. That's all she wanted.

She reached up to grab at his hand, but she felt the hand on her face stiffen. "Stop," he demanded.

Lily moved to sit up, something not quiet easy with Morpheus looming over her. He returned to placing kissing in her neck, going lower to her chest and lingering close to her shirt's neckline. She felt his hair tickling at her cheek and jawline. Sibyl slowly reached out in the direction it came frem, wanting to run her hand through his hair, or cup his cheek, just to touch him. She resisted a smile at the thought of how romantic it would be, already in love, but the night she would first see his face filled with said love and passion.

His other hand came up and grabbed at her wrist. He placed a lingering kiss to the corner of her mouth, before Morpheus moved down once again, to where he had been when she first awoke.

"Stop," she pleaded. Still he continued. Lily forced her legs together, "Morpheus stop!" Any sleep or amusement had left her voice. If anything she was a bit angry.

Morpheus listened to her, though he was confused on why she wanted that.

Sibyl let out a quick sigh of agrivation. "You expect me to trust you with my body, while you do not trust me to know your face," she pointed out, "You have to see the hypocracy in that."

Morpheus open his mouth to speak. Even though she couldn't see it, it was like she knew he was going to reaspond. "I don't care about what excuse you're going to say," she scolded him calmly, "Trust is a two way street, and I feel like your not even acknowledging it's existence. Now either remove your hand and let me see you, or this needs to stop."

Lily had enough. She had been patient long enough, but if her wanted the intamancy of lovers, he'd need to have more trust in her than that of a stranger.

She did not expect him to actually leave.

------

They both needed time to calm down. So Lily waited until morning before going to find Morpheus. He was in the throne room, the most common place she finds him. Sitting upon his head, once again, was that stupid spine trunked helm.

"We need to talk," she told him calmly. She did not hesitate to approach him, even if he was just silently watching her. "And not just me talking to you. We need to have dialog back and forth."

"There is nothing we need to talk about," he said simply.

Lily huffed, crossing her arms across her chest. "Morpheus I was serious about what I said last night," she told him. "I feel you do not trust me. I have gone against common sense and have learned to trust. Despite the fact you kidnapped me, refused to let me go home, and continue to not show me your face.

I want to presume a relationship between us, but I can't with out knowing you trust me." Clearly she was angry, but she waa staying calm, pleading with him to be reasonable.

"Lily," he sighed, stepping a single step closer for her to be in reach. "There will come a day that I will."

Sibyl took another step, standing in front of him. She reached up placing her hand on his shoulders. "Why can't it be today?" she stressed.

Morpheus didn't answer. He couldn't answer. How would one explain that the mere knowledge of his face may cause her to leaving him. Dream wouldn't be able to live if that were to happen.

Sibyl grew frustrated with his silence. Slowly she moved her hands to his neck. She slid her fingers under the helm.

Lily fell onto her bed. Her bed in her flat in London. She let out a scream of frustration, kicking at her mattress. He sent her out of the Dreaming, ending it it all with her.

[amarantine-amirite]

Christmas at the Mall

The things I've tolerated before that I consider unacceptable now continue to surprise the crap out of me. I used to be OK with waiting in line. While waiting, I'd pass the time watching people, and it filled me with a sense of how everyone has a life story as rich as my own. Now I find it far too much to bear. If there are at least four people in line for something, I'll turn around and leave and come back when there aren't as many people.

Mom could see how agitated it was. "Is this that big of a problem?" she asked.

"Absolutely. It's much too crowded here." I don't think I could have made it more obvious.

Usually, Mom would reassure me or try to make it easier, but she didn't seem to have the patience for it today. "you know how a room can't be empty if you're still in it?"

"Yeah?"

"That."

It's getting harder to avoid crowds. Every single public amenity we have is always at or over full capacity. There's so little to do, everything you can do is constantly overcrowded to the point where if you step on one person, you inevitably step on another person trying to get away from the first person. It ceases to be enjoyable when people have to stack on top of each other.

I've missed out on a lot because there are too many people. We don't go skating anymore because there's only one open ice time a week and it's full of idiot little boys doing hockey drills. We don't go to fall fairs because of tourists and selfie morons clogging up the aisles. We barely even go to the supermarket unless we are solidly out of something, and even then, we go during off-peak hours. "We don't do this because it's too crowded. Can't we go home?"

Mom shook her head, "No, because it's your fault that we're here."

In the week leading up to the holiday season, most families come to the mall to do some shopping, take the kids to see Santa, or maybe duck in for a nice holiday brunch. We're here because we have a to-do list. First, we need to go to the bank and close all our accounts, not just the one that got breached. Then, we need to go to a different bank and put all our things in a new account there. Finally, we then need to join my mother's boss for Christmas brunch at Jean-Paul (this new restaurant in the department store) and negotiate a raise to replace the stolen amount. Realistically, we could do these separately, but if we did it like this, it would only be one outing instead of three.

This all started when I had to pay for groceries with Mom's card while she took a work call. She gave me her ATM card even though I had $205 in cash with me.

Things started to go south when the cashier insisted that I total the groceries myself, probably because she was too lazy to do it herself. After adding it all up, I came up with a total of $140.77. I gave her the four $50 bills, so the change would be $60.23.

She wouldn't take cash. She insisted on the exact amount. I don't think she could have bothered to calculate the change.

What happened next blindsided me. The cashier said that her manager told her that Rhode Island state law requires people to either provide exact change or pay with debit or credit. She told me if I couldn't provide exact change, I would have to give the woman my card or face a shoplifting charge. I didn't think that was true. Even if it were, it doesn't apply as we live in Minnesota.

I told her that I don't let strangers touch my cards. She didn't care. She used a sleight of hand to take the card anyway. The card I got back wasn't the card I started with.

I had to call the bank. They put me on hold. I waited for more than three hours, during which their offices closed and the money rolled out of Mom's checking account.

Mom never noticed anything untoward until our utility payments bounced. I told her what happened, and she seemed convinced that I did my best. She's probably repressing how angry she is with me for the sake of my feelings. Regardless of how she feels, it is my fault that we're here.

Mom had a work call, and her boss hadn't shown up yet. From where I sat at Jean-Paul, you could see everything. I attempted to watch people again. I saw someone moving a mattress. She moved it by hand because the store's too busy to safely operate a sled. She also had to take it through the regular checkout line. Apparently, the combination of both frustrated her so much that she felt the need to crash into as many things in the store as possible.

People scrambled to get out of the way of a falling stack of perfume bottles. I watched the crowd pour out of the large department store and into the considerably smaller Bath And Body Works.

I saw the people in line to see Santa Claus decide to leave and come back when the mall is less busy upon seeing the throngs of people flow into the Bath And Body Works. The wide aisles of the department store are much narrower than usual because of how much stuff the girl with the mattress knocked over. The crowd washes into the department store. People fall as the crowd pools into the Jean-Paul.

It freaked me out. Rather than wondering what their stories are, I'm wondering who's going to get trampled.

No, I'm not exaggerating. This crowd is big enough that people lose the ability to move for themselves. People don't have enough space around them to act based on decisions anymore. The entire crowd moves like a fluid, forced forward by the pressure of the people walking forwards behind them. You had better hope the laws of fluid dynamics are on your side.

It gets worse if you fall. You pull other people down with you. People around the group on the floor trip and fall on top and you end up with a pile of tangled people. The crowd continues to move. The people on the floor can't get up, and the people standing on top of you can't move enough to help you up.

Crowds this great move like tidal waves, surging forwards then receding. It behooves you to wait until the crowd recedes to move out, even if you're just passing one person then bracing yourself for the surge forward and then moving again. Staying on your feet is crucial. If you fall, get up as quickly as you can. Don't fight the waves or you'll go under.

The tidal wave of people receded from the restaurant. I ran out of the waiting area and booked it into the relatively quiet swimwear department. I saw my Mom come out of the bathroom. She scowled at me. "Alison, you better explain why you ran out of there,"

"I didn't have a choice. There were so many people it felt like I would get stuck in an ocean of syrup if I didn't leave."

She didn't seem to care that I had applied the principles taught in Professor Chang's fluid dynamics course to save my sorry hide. "That's not an excuse!"

Now, I struggle to tell the difference between someone who is annoyed and frustrated and angry. "OK, Mom," I began, "On a scale of one to ten, how would you rate your anger, with one being I'm so proud of you, here, take the keys to the car and ten being the police will never find your body?"

"Twelve."

"Why does it matter that I ran out?" I asked. What really went through my mind was, crap.

Mom struggled to think of a reason so she started insulting me. She said I was stupid, a flight risk, and a whole load of other things.

She wouldn't say that if she saw the crowd.

@clean-prompts

[mandos-sluts]

The Payment

The Mandolorian x Fem!Reader

Rating: Explicit

Wordcount: 2.8k

Warnings: Smut, fingering, vibrator usage, bondage, dubious consent

Summary: The Mandalorian detains your criminal boyfriend you barter for his release

A/N: Please message us or comment if you want to be on our tag list!!

You’ve been tailing the Mandalorian for about half a mile, keeping a long enough distance behind him so that he doesn’t know he’s being followed. He and his bounty finally reach his ship and enter the open hatch. Once he disappears behind the walls, you sprint to the ship and tip toe up the ramp. You’re lucky he didn’t close the door as soon as they entered.

“Let him go.” You say holding a blaster in the air with two hands. It’s pointed directly at the Mandalorian’s back. He jumps and turns around quickly, reaching for his blaster on his hip. Once he lays his eyes on you, however, his stance relaxes and his hands fall back to his sides.

“Who are you?” The Mandalorian sighs in annoyance.

“Let. Him. Go.” You say as confidently as you can, staring him down, arms straight out in front of you. Why isn’t he alert? Why isn’t he trying to get you to drop your blaster? Ugh, why isn’t he intimidated by you?

“He your boyfriend or something?” He returns casually.

“I’ll say this one more time.” You state slowly. “Let him go, or I will shoot you.” Your arms begin to shake.

“Listen sweetheart, your little boyfriend is already in carbonite, and I'm wearing beskar, so good luck shooting me.” The Mandalorian says in a condescending tone.

You lower your blaster in irritation. This is not at all what you had envisioned this playing out. You thought he would at least be semi threatened by you?

“How much do you want for him?” You ask bluntly.

The Mandalorian let out a chuckle.

“Come on.” You say.  “The bounty on his head can’t be that high. How much do you want?” You honestly weren’t even certain the exact reason for the bounty. It was probably embezzlement or fraud or something involving the illegal methods he used to amass his wealth.

The Mandalorian is barely paying attention to you. He’s unloading and his blaster, or organizing his blasters, or doing some trivial task in his weapons armory. “I’m not gonna let him go, I don’t care how much money you offer.” The Mandalorian says without lifting his head. “But consider yourself lucky.” He turns to look at you. “Now you can go off and find yourself a real man. Someone who can actually satisfy you.” He turns back to whatever it is he was doing.

“Excuse me?” You say, crossing your arms. The Mandalorian doesn’t respond or look up, and you stand there in silence for a moment. “Not that it’s any of your concern, but my boyfriend satisfies me just fine. Now...how about two thousand credits.” You ask awkwardly.

“That pretty boy?” He asks pointing at the carbonite chamber, not acknowledging your offer. “Ha. The fight he tried to put up was laughable. There’s no way he can fuck you good.” The Mandalorian says with ease. “Which is a shame, because you seem like you need a good fuck.”

“I–”

“I’m gonna depart now.” He cuts you off. “So unless you wanna go to Nevarro, I’d get off my ship.” His voice is deep and unsympathetic.

Who does this Mandalorian think he is? Why does he think he knows anything about your relationship? You feel like you should feel insulted, but it’s your boyfriend he’s insulting, not you. In a fucked up way, he is sort of complimenting you– implying that you deserve better than your boyfriend. You have a feeling the Mandalorian knows exactly what he was doing.

You open your mouth but pause for a moment, unsure of how to proceed. “Five thousand credits.” Is all that you can think to say.

“Little girl.” The Mandalorian exhales. “Your credits are worthless to me.” He says peering at you. “...but...” He pauses as he considers if he actually wants to do this. The Mandalorian is a highly respected professional bounty hunter after all, and proposing this kind of trade is anything but professional. Yet at the same time, you are one of the most beautiful women he has ever seen; he’s never wanted to fuck someone more. And he just apprehended your pathetic and weak boyfriend, he knows you haven’t been properly taken care of. He knows he can take you to a level you’ve never been to before and give you the best pleasure you’ve ever felt. That concept in and of itself fills the Mandalorian with arousal.

“...but perhaps we could arrange a different form of payment.” He says taking big, slow steps closer to you. *see gif*

“….A different form?” You say hesitantly as he continues to approach you. You can’t believe what you are hearing. You’re well aware of the reputations that Mandalorians boast, and you would never guess that one of them would propose something so risqué. To be honest, you’d be lying if you said that a small part of you wasn’t really turned on by the situation at hand. The Mandalorian was the opposite of your boyfriend. Sure, your boyfriend was conventionally handsome, but he is cocky while the Mandalorian is confident. The Mandalorian is big, strong, and tough, and your boyfriend has been waited on his entire life.

You’re frozen where you stand and your heart is racing as the Mandalorian creeps into your personal space. He puts his gloved hand on the bottom of your chin and pulls your head up so that you’re looking directly into his visor.

“Let me fuck you, and I’ll let this loser boyfriend of yours go.” The Mandalorian says in the deepest, sexist voice you’ve ever heard. But snap out of it! Your attraction to him doesn’t matter. You’re here to save your boyfriend.

“Fine.” You say, trying your best to project a neutral demeanor. “But I’m not going to pretend to enjoy it.”

The Mandalorian lets go of you and presses a button on the wall. “You won’t need to.” He says removing his gloves as the hatch closes. He sits on a bench and leans back, spreading his legs. He has an unmistakably large bulge that he’s not at all trying to hide. His arms stretch out on either side of him to rest on the back of the bench. You’re standing a few feet away from where he sits, and his helmet is glued to your image.

“Take off your clothes.” He commands in a flat modulated voice.

Your heart has fallen to your stomach. The idea of this was hot, but now that it’s actually happening, you’re terrified. What have you gotten yourself into? Why would you agree to have sex with a Mandalorian? Mandalorians are ruthless. They are feared across the galaxy for a reason!

You shake with fear as you struggle to get your shoes, pants, and shirt off your body. You discard your clothes on the cold metal floor and are left standing in just your tiny thong.

The Mandalorian stares at you for what seems like forever. “C’mere.” He says sitting up straight.

You walk over to him and he pulls you to stand in between his legs. You look down at him with what you hope is a poker face. He runs his bare hands all over you. His hands are so big wrapped around your waist, you feel like he could snap you in two. He gropes your ass and your tits and pulls you even closer. Your skin is so frikin smooth against his rough hands, and the Mandalorian can’t get enough of it.

“Fuck.” He spits out. “You’re so fuckin sexy. I can’t believe you settle for such a coward. He must be loaded or something.” He maneuvers one of your legs over his.

“Why you with him, huh?” He asks in a patronizing tone.

“None–”

“Doesn’t matter.” He interrupts. “I’m gonna show you what you’re missing.” He says as he lifts his thigh to meet your crotch. He begins rubbing his thigh between your legs, and the friction against your clit feels amazing. You bite your bottom lip to stop yourself from letting out a little pathetic moan.

He removes one of his hands from your butt and brings it to his belt. All of the sudden, he clasps handcuffs on you, binding your hands in front of your body. Your body tenses up. “What are you doing?!” You exclaim. Any arousal you had is now overridden by fear. If you were nervous before, you are petrified now. The panic you feel is written all over your face.

“Don’t worry, little girl.” The Mandalorian says in a low, soothing voice. “I’m not gonna hurt you.” He says as rubs your cheek with the back of his hand. Then, he abruptly stands up and throws you over his shoulder.

“Ah!!” You scream. That’s it, you’re pretty sure you’re gonna die. He carries you deeper into the ship. Your ass is in the air, and your handcuffed hands are swinging down by the Mandalorian’s legs. “Wha– what are you doing?! Where are you taking me?!” You shout as distress pulses through your veins.

Without responding, he enters a room, and gently lays you down on a bed. Then he reaches over you and attaches your handcuffs to the head of the bed frame. You lie on the bed with your hands bound and stretched up above your head, completely naked except your panties. The Mandalorian loosens the handcuffs and lengthens the cord between your hands so as to spread your hands further apart from each other.

You take a deep breath and begin to feel a little bit better. Although the position he’s put you in screams danger, you for some reason feel safe with him. Your body still trembles, though.

The Mandalorian can sense your unease. “Relax, pretty girl.” He says with his modulated voice. He’s standing on his knees with one of your legs between his on the bed. “I told you I wouldn’t hurt you. Just breath.” He says quietly as his hands travel down your sides. He alternates between softly caressing and aggressively kneading your body. The way he’s touching you, the way his visor is swallowing every part of your body, it makes you wet. You feel so small as he kneels over you, you can hear his breathing, and you can tell he’s holding back.

The Mandalorian is holding back. He can tell that you’re scared and shy, and he knows you’re inexperienced, so he’s trying his best to be gentle. He’s restraining himself from treating you like the whores he fucks the shit out of in brothels. The Mandalorian scoots back and runs one of his hands up your thigh before dancing his fingers on your clothed cunt.

“Fuck. You’re already leaking through your panties.” He spits looking up at you. You say nothing in response and try to give off an uninterested look. The Mandalorian moves your thong to the side, exposing your glistening pussy. “What a pretty little cunt you have.” He says as he drags his fingers through your wet folds.

The feeling of his fingers trailing through your pussy sends shocks through your body. You let out a high-pitched breath and bite your lip to stifle any more from escaping your lips. You really don’t want to give the Mandalorian the satisfaction.

The Mandalorian slyly reaches under the bed and grabs a small, roundish cylinder-shaped object of metal, of which you could tell is beskar. He gently pushes your thighs apart, and repositions himself in between them, your legs laying flat on the bed. He flips a switch on the object and it begins vibrating. He brings it to your groin and starts circling the vibrator on your clit.

You gasp and bring your knees into the air and plant your feet on the bed. Your back arches and your legs impulsively open up wider, almost inviting the Mandalorian in for more. You can’t even attempt to look inexpressive anymore. Your breathing picks up and your exhales are laced in moans. His other hand is on your thigh, and his thumb is stroking your skin. You close your eyes.

“Open your eyes. And keep them on me.” The Mandalorian orders, squeezing your thigh. He wants you to be looking at him as you come apart at his will. He wants you to see the things he’s doing to your pussy. He wants you to have to face the fact that he is bringing you such immense pleasure. The Mandalorian flips another switch and the object begins vibrating faster. You clench your teeth down on your bottom lip as you try to keep your moans as small as possible. Your pussy is so wet you can hear its gushing sounds over the vibrating.

“You like that?” He asks.

“N–no...” You respond. You wish that was true. It should be true. You’re handcuffed to a bed on a dirty old ship, forced let this vulgar Mandalorian fuck you to save your boyfriend. You should not be liking it.

He scoffs. “Your mouth is telling me one thing, but your pussy is telling me another.” Your denial of the obvious truth just turns on the Mandalorian even more. He loves watching your pathetic struggle to hide and contain your reactions. It makes him all the more determined to break you; he loves a good challenge.

Keeping the vibrator on your clit, he teases your entrance with his middle finger before pushing it inside of you. “Fuck.” You mutter out between breathy moans as he starts thrusting his long thick finger in and out of your hole.

“Of course you’re tight as shit.” The Mandalorian says under his breath. “Tell me, baby girl, have you ever cum?” He asks in his deep voice.

“I– I don’t know.” You respond as he continues pumping his finger and circling your clit with the vibrator. Frankly, you didn’t even know if you could cum. You know that it's possible for women to orgasm– you’ve heard your friends speak about it before. But you're fairly certain you’ve never cum before.

“Awww, poor girl.” He says in an arrogant tone. An “I don’t know” is a “no” and both of you know it.

Suddenly, he starts circling your clit and thrusting you even faster. He adds another finger and this just about sends you over the edge.

Alright, you don’t have the energy to pretend anymore; you’re over trying to put on this charade, which you know isn’t fooling him. Now all you care about is chasing this high you’re feeling creeping into your pussy. Your body has never felt this way before, you can feel the pleasure pulsing in your cunt. Your heaving breathing is now unapologetic moans.

You can tell you’re approaching a climax. Your legs are twitching and your back is arching so much. But then the Mandalorian begins slowing things down, though still persisting.

“Plea–Please.” You moan out, looking at him with puppy dog eyes. If you could, you would grab his arm and guide him to finger you faster, but your hands are still bound above your head.

“Please what?” The Mandalorian inquires. “You want me to stop? Or you want me to keep going? Be a good girl and use your words.”

You wrap your legs around him. “Keep going. Harder. Fas–Faster. Please!”

The Mandalorian lets out a satisfied grunt as he grabs one of your legs and brings it on his shoulder, opening your pussy up even more and affording him a better angle. He cranks up the vibrator’s speed and his two fingers pump you with unmatched rapidity. Your mouth is open wide as your chest heaves. Your eyes fall shut as you can feel your orgasm on the horizon.

“I said, eyes on me.” The Mandalorian orders with a stern voice. “I want you looking at me while you cum for the first time.” You force your eyes open and glue them on his visor.

He watches you scream out and come apart on his hand. “Ahhh!! Mando! Fu– fuck ahhh yes Mando! Yes!!” You cry, maintaining eye contact with his visor. Your entire body is shaking as your orgasm rips through you, a sensation you’ve never felt before.

“Good girl.” He says, pushing a strand of hair out of your face. “You look so pretty when you cum.”

“Mando, I– I want your cock.” You stutter out, coming down from your orgasm.

“Oh yeah?” He asks caressing your thigh.

“Can you let my hands go, please?” You ask in the most begging-little-girl-voice you can.

The Mandalorian sighs out. “Sure...You’ve been a good girl.” He says taking your handcuffs off. You bring your hands down and sit up while you move your hair behind your ears. You take a deep breath and move your hand down to cup his bulge. You’re so turned on that you’ve completely forgotten why you’re here. All you want to do is release the Mandalorian’s cock and pleasure him the same way he did to you.

TO BE CONTINUED

The Payment Part Two

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Masterlist

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Taglist:

@pinkninja200 @raspberrymama @stevie75

[the-last-kenobi]

*kciks down door* ReQuEsTs?!??! uh, 18. “Is it all right if I hug you?” with Obi-wan and character of your choice (please, this boy needs a hug so bad)

Hugs!!!! What an excellent ask.

Took me forever to pick a character though. I came this close to writing multiple hugs throughout the years but it would’ve been very long...

It’s still long. Whoops.

Note: I skipped the actual sentence and instead went for ✨vibes only✨

(From this various prompts list.)

_

Obi-Wan is twenty-three standard years old, very nearly twenty-four.

It is a delightful stage of life. (It’s awful.)

He’s growing in independence, so close to Knighthood he can almost taste it. (Is he? Nobody seems to have a clear opinion.)

He’s receiving more and more solo assignments, and on his missions with Master Jinn, the older Jedi makes an effort to at least await the Padawan’s input before making a decision, sometimes even deferring to Obi-Wan’s word. (Only in public, though, is there a sense of equality. Behind the scenes, Obi-Wan is still very much the learner.)

He longs to be free. (He doesn’t want to be alone.)

The confusing clash of thoughts and emotions is, in and of itself, a creator of more clashing emotions, all resulting in a bundle of self-doubt that crouches near his heart, like a greedy bird, picking away at his strength and certainty when he most needs it.

Doesn’t your doubt show you that you’re truly not ready? the pestering creature asks.

Doesn’t your longing for freedom prove you don’t deserve it? it says, tapping against the veins of ice and fear that lie right against the heat of his heart.

Doesn’t your need to be reassured tell you that you’re too hesitant, too weak to be alone?

His desire to fly is wrong. His desire to be sheltered, even more so.

Both together, coexisting in his heart and mind, could quite possibly mean the one thing he had been dreading for over a decade now, the thing older Jedi, real Jedi, had put into words and addressed to his face when he was only twelve, only eleven, only ten.

You are too emotional, they said.

You are overeager, they said.

You are not destined to be a Jedi, Qui-Gon had told him. I will not train you.

He had, in the end, and Obi-Wan has been wondering in the depths of his heart for all these years of it had not been a dreadful mistake. As much as the Force sings in his ears Jedi, Jedi, Jedi, endure, Jedi, Jedi, it felt like everything he touched, everything tangible, argues back failure, weak, selfish, foolish, unwanted, not fit.

Obi-Wan is twenty-three, almost twenty-four, and he is years into adulthood and light years away from proving that he’s capable of handling it.

When will he be Knighted?

Nobody seems to be expecting it from him.

Do they know, he wonders, have they known since the beginning that I am doomed to fail? Has this all been a gracious attempt, a thank you for my actions on Bandomeer, and they have drawn this out and out and out as long as they can?

How much longer can this go on?

Still, there are moments when he is at peace, when Obi-Wan is sure. When he meditates, when he accomplishes something new, when he walks away from an assignment feeling unashamed when he translates his memories into a tidy mission report.

When he has one of his long talks with Master Yoda, or Master Windu, who despite their revered status have taken to talking to him more like a friend than a child, outside of the Council chambers.

When he remembers the Force whispering inside, Jedi Jedi Jedi Jedi, endure, Jedi...

And then, on one of the missions assigned to both himself and his Master - still the overwhelming majority of his assignments - he and Qui-Gon are separated during a violent uprising.

There are bodies in the streets and buildings are aflame; children weep over the bodies of their parents and parents cradle the bodies of their children and scream as if the sound is their only companion left in the world. The standing government has a point, the rebellion has a point, the civilians caught in the crossfire don’t say which point they agree with because they’re too busy screaming and perishing, and Qui-Gon is simply gone.

Obi-Wan, faced with the threat of further bloodshed right here and right now even as the air is still clogged with ash and flame and as another body topples from a rooftop in front of his feet, raises his hand in surrender and calmly proposes a truce, offering himself as a legal hostage against the government that brought the Jedi here.

Obi-Wan is led away with his hands bound behind his back and his lightsaber taken away, and though his face is calm, the furrow between is brow speaks of his inner turmoil, which sounds like tapping against the cracks in his heart and Qui-Gon, where is Master Qui-Gon, I don’t know what I’m doing, if I fail more people will die, if I fail it will be my fault, is this taking charge or stepping aside, am I a leader or a victim?

He spends not days, not weeks, but three standard months as a hostage. He spends a terrible amount of time sitting in a cell and pondering his uselessness, the gravity of his foolishness, but every time someone opens the door and escorts him out to hold parley with the leaders of the rebellion and the ministry of the planet, he holds his head high, tempers his fear, and speaks to them with all he has.

Which is honesty. Humility.

You don’t know what to do, he says. Neither do I.

We all know we must do something. No matter how much blood you spill and how much earth you scorch you will eventually come back here to this table to have this same discussion until either both of you are broken beyond belief or one of you has been crushed, and half your planet’s voice stolen away. And you will have sacrificed two of the Republic’s Jedi along the way, a black mark against whichever victor is left standing.

Or, he says, we choose to pass over the violence and talk here and now, and choose this again and again and again. You have already had your fighting. Your people are already hoping for negotiation.

Are you here for their sakes or to kill them for show?

He does not use these exact words.

He sews them into his brief speeches, hammers in the point sharply when he must, weaves the common thread over and over again.

He knows they fight while he is locked away.

But he believes, from the growing respect in the eyes of these people who hold him both by his and against his will, that he is making a difference. He must be.

And Obi-Wan is twenty-three, very very nearly twenty-four, when he finally walks free to witness the signing of a treaty like this planet has never had before, to witness the formation of a new government, and he discovers not ashes and mass graves when he sees daylight for the first time in three months — but instead, a city and a planet marred only by scattered battlefields, and marked more clearly by the way its people have fought to keep it clean, to keep it safe.

Children race through the streets, unafraid, because they have had real shelter during the war. It has not entered their homes since that first terrible day.

Neighbors from opposing sides of this fight and friends who staked no claim in this war mingle freely. Their smiles are a little hesitant, but they are there.

The dead are all honored equally.

It is leaps and bounds, it is a civilization that propelled itself through years of struggle in three months, and Obi-Wan is awed by them.

He knows it cannot be this way everywhere.

He knows that there will be wars where no one wants to surrender, or where one side will be so certain of their point of view that they would rather raise hell than cease, and he knows there will be people who resist them.

But today it is real.

Obi-Wan looks at his pale and clammy hands, the marks around his wrists where he was so often bound, and feels the way his limbs shake from months of too little sunlight, not quite enough food, and more than his share of fear and doubt and self-recrimination.

As he smiles for a camera that will record this moment forever, he glimpses Qui-Gon amongst the crowd.

Someone explains to him, when he asks, that his Master had been injured during the uprising and spent the first three weeks of Obi-Wan’s captivity in convalescence. The remaining time, he has spent on the sidelines, forced there by his Padawan’s actions. With Obi-Wan a willing hostage, playing negotiator and leverage both, Qui-Gon had no role except to mingle with the people, offer them comfort and aid.

Something Obi-Wan knows his Master loved, but — he had still stolen his Master’s role.

He had thrown himself into a stupid, foolish situation, and how many times had Qui-Gon teased him about playing damsel in distress? And here he has gone and surrendered of his own accord. What would Qui-Gon have done if Obi-Wan had led them all to ruin?

Obi-Wan slowly loses his confidence, his relief, his silver tongue, as the press and the people recede, and he and his Master walk to a room that has been prepared for both of them, as honored guests by this new government.

Qui-Gon says nothing to him.

They walk in silence for twelve minutes.

And then, as soon as the door has shut behind them, Obi-Wan finds himself pulled into a fierce embrace, one of his Master’s hands buried in his hair, Qui-Gon’s chin resting atop his head.

Obi-Wan hesitates.

Does his Master think him a child?

Perhaps Qui-Gon senses his thoughts, because the man pulls away briefly, still holding his Padawan by the shoulders, as if unwilling to let him go completely, else he vanish like smoke.

“Padawan,” Qui-Gon says, and his voice is loud and strong and brimming with warmth that washes over Obi-Wan like sunlight, like water, like an embrace. “Well done, my Padawan.”

And then he is pulled again into Qui-Gon’s comforting arms, and Obi-Wan breathes in and gives in, folding against his teacher like a child, and if a few tears stain Qui-Gon’s robes or drop into Obi-Wan’s hair, neither of them speaks of it.

Obi-Wan lets his Master hold him, lets go of fear and pride and doubt, and finds that he is safe.

~

[loth-wolffe]

Midnight warmth

Pairing: Tech x reader (no y/n)

Summary: you try (not really) to convince your workaholic lover to come to bed, but instead end up joining him on the chilly floor of the Marauder to keep him company.

Warnings: none but fluffy stuff that will rot your teeth.

Word count: 1k aprox

A/n: to the anon asked me for something with tech a while ago, I completely forgot about it (sorry) and I wrote this and checked my request list just before proofreading and saw the request so, sweet anon, my love, this goes for you. i hope you still, and I quote, love tech as much as you can and are low (high) key pinning for him too. love u bubs, wherever you are.

The night was cold, not too much, but enough to make you leave your bed with the blanket over your shoulders, seeking for a particular someone to help you get warm. The blanket was, but you missed him.

Steps being muffled by your socks it's what lets him know you're up, a soft smile appearing into his lips as he finds you, sleepy eyes, and disheveled hair, your pijamas were basically one of his shirts and a short that was covered by the length of his blacks and the view made butterflies flutter uncontrollably in his chest.

"Hey." You greet, coming to place the blanket on his shoulders, his eyes going back to the task at hand on the floor of the Marauder, which was repairing Wrecker's blaster.

"Hello." He replies after a low thank you leave his lips, you kiss his cheek, his head titling slightly just so you don't have to lean down too much even though the action doesn't really help.

You look how his fingers move as they work, mesmerized for a second before remembering what you came for.

"Are you coming to bed?" You place your hand on his shoulder, settling the blanket better on his body, Tech's eyes doesn't leave the blaster.

"In a minute," but it's always more than a minute, finding something else to keep his mind on, not because he doesn't want to be with you, but because his mind is always going two miles a minute and he needs to keep it busy, "I just need to finish repairing this and I'll be on my way."

You let out a little oh, taking a seat beside him and he moves just a bit to make more space for you, pushing some tools to the side so they don't bother you, you smile.

"What are you doing?" He asks, pausing a moment to look at you as you start to lower yourself, brown eyes trying to find the answer in your face, chuckling you finally come to rest your head on his thigh. His face casts down at you and you give him a radiant smile that makes him feel dizzy, he doesn't wait for an answer as he tries to cover you with the blanket as well, your legs were mostly exposed but you didn't mind the chilly air nor the cold floor as long as you were with him.

"Waiting for you, silly." You say, as if the most obvious thing in the world, and he feels slightly taken aback, still getting used to the simplest acts of love you perform for him every day and wondering how is it that he got so lucky. "What are you doing?"

He looks a bit shy for a moment, eyes flickering to the tools before they go back to your own, the beginning of a smile make the corners of his lips lift upwards. Tech pushes his goggles back but it's no use as they move back to the end of the bridge of his nose as he looks back down at you, you giggle, his smile widening at the sound.

"Well..." he says after a moment before starting a rant about what's the exact problem with Wrecker's blaster, how he's supposed to rapire it and what's he currently doing.

Your eyes start feel heavy, and you don't know if it's because you don't understand half of the things he said or because the sound of his voice soothes you as if it were the softest lullaby. Probably both.

"That sounds like fun." You mumble, even if it doesn't, but he appreciates it with a hum and a light peck on your lips, eyes shining bright behind his goggles with a little something you can't quite place.

"It is." It's a simple statement, and the surprise that comes with the next one is one that you like to come back to sometimes, fluttering heart beating for him and you find yourself falling harder when he goes, "but it's more fun now that you're around."

There is something in his voice, maybe it's how small he sounded, or the honesty that was dripping from the words as they rolled down his tongue, but the feeling they brought, like a scream that wanted to leave your lungs, like a rush of emotions, of happiness and love, that wants to get out just to soak him full with everything he makes you feel.

You smile softly, touched by his words.

"Nice to know." It's all you say, and all you need to, really, a silent conversation that lets him know you feel the same happen fast between your eyes.

You cuddle up to him, forehead almost touching his tummy, hand coming to wrap around your shoulders as he moves slightly to keep working in what must be an uncomfortable position, but as long as he doesn't care, you suppose its fine.

"Do you mind if I stay?"

"Not really," he replies quickly, "as you should know, I quite enjoy your company." You smirk, never leaving the sight above you, a slight frown in concentration covered by his goggles, tongue darting just a little from between his lips, sharp jawline and cheekbones looking even sharper with the shadows, skin seeming lighter and yet warmer under the bright illumination.

"Quite, huh?"

He spares you a quick glance.

"Well, more like a lot." You chuckle lightly, and he gives you a warm smile, you could swear his cheeks taint with a soft pink, but you're not too sure as your eyes close with the feeling of lips pressing against your forehead.

You try to chase for his touch, humming again in content, words blurring in your mind as sleep clouds it whole.

"I don't mind if you fall asleep, either."

"You don't?"

"Of course not, you'll need your energy tomorrow," he says matter-o-factly, eyes squinting as he brings the blaster close to his face, "I wouldn't want you get hurt just because you couldn't focus for staying up too late."

You nod, not being able to fight him on the matter even if he was staying up late too, instead nuzzling closer to him, forehead against the soft fabric of his pajamas, and he tugs your blanket enough to cover most of your back.

"Tech?" He hums in acknowledgement, "I too enjoy your company a lot."

You hear him chuckle, a soft sound that disappears into the night as quickly as it came, he murmurs a sleep tight, and there's the ghost of a smile on your lips as you let slumber wash over you.

taglist: @foodandbooksplease @dottiechan @ladykatakuri @tacticalsparkles @lightning-wolffe @hellothere-generalangsty @beskarprincessjenny @badbatch-simp24 @milppa @obi-bae-kenobi @baroclinicinstability @murdertoothpick @ahsoka1 @kybacrystal @m-o-o-n-s-g-o-o-n-s @amaryllis23

[maddiwrites]

Secret Lives (Part 2)

Paring: JJ Maybank x reader 

Summary: You and JJ never got along so your friends trap the two of you on a boat in the middle of the marsh to work it out. Only it doesn’t go as planned. (Part 2)

Note: I couldn’t be happier with the feedback I am getting from Part 1!! Thank you guys so much for helping me out and hanging on there with me as I figure all of this out! I’m so grateful for all the comments and messages and I am ready every single one! Now I saw a couple people asking to be a part of a tag list...so if someone could tell me how to set one of them up I would be more than happy to lol. I will tag the two people I’ve seen who asked to be tagged! But yeah, am I supposed to set something up for a tag list or do people just message me if they want to be tagged in my stuff? Someone let me know!! 

Word Count: 5.6k

Warnings: Language, angst, small parts of child abuse. 

Part 1

It’s been about two weeks since you’ve seen or talked to the Pogues. Everyday felt ten hours longer and the air felt thinner. You missed your friends. You missed surfing with John B, you missed debating about the accuracy of medical TV shows with Pope, you missed sleepovers with Kie, and yes, you even missed JJ. 

As much as you hated yourself for it, you knew you did the right thing. Staying with the Pogues would have caused more harm than good. It was clear as day that you and JJ would never get along because he didn’t like you and you weren’t going to stand around and be insulted by a guy you still can’t help but think about every single day. 

Every night, you pictured the hatred behind JJ’s blue eyes when he spoke about you being nothing but a spoiled brat who didn’t deserve his trust or your friendship with the other Pogues. Each word felt like an individual stab to the heart. You were use to people not liking you. The girls at your school hated you for not giving them the time of day, the boys threw hurtful remarks at you all the time after you rejected them. But they never hurt as much JJ’s. Because they didn’t come from the guy you loved. 

It didn’t matter how much JJ hated you. You couldn’t help but fall for his sparkling blue eyes, tan skin, and fluffy blonde hair. You swooned every time JJ laughed and smiled because you loved seeing him happy. You were turned on every time JJ stood up for one of your friends, threatening to fight whoever it was that was bothering them, even if it was an uptight Kook. You were silently heartbroken every time JJ told you and his friends about his sexcapade from the previous night.  You were concerned and personally infuriated when JJ would come to the Chateau with new sets of bruises without telling you where they came from because that little voice inside your head told you exactly where they were from. 

You loved him, and you hated that you loved him. 

But this was for the best. At least thats what you told yourself.

Kie didn’t agree though. She found you in your room the next day, ready to apologize for stranding you on a boat with JJ, but it just ended in another screaming match when you told her what happened. 

“So just like that? You’re gonna leave?” She yelled. 

“I can’t do it anymore, Kie! He doesn’t want me there, and I am so sick and tired of trying to get him to like me.”

“What about John B and Pope? What about me? You’re our friend too!”

“We can still hangout -”

“Without JJ? That’s so unfair!”

“He hates me, Kie! How would you like it if I forced you to hang out with Sarah Cameron, huh?”

“That’s not the same.”

“Its the exact fucking same, and you know it!”

Kie ended up storming out of your room, neither one of you feeling any sort of peace or satisfaction with your decision. You haven’t talked to her since, and you contemplated calling her every day. 

But you never do.

The alarm you set on your phone blared in your ear from the pillow next to your head - a reminder that you needed to leave to pick up your father. You slapped the touch screen of your phone until the stupid alarm turned off. The last place you wanted to be was anywhere outside of your room. The thought of being with you father, the man you continued to blame for all your problems, filled you with self-hatred. You hated how easily he was able to manipulate you to help him, making you and your mother out to be the bad guys. He used Andrew’s wealth as a guilt trip for you, saying that since you didn’t do anything to deserve his money, the least you could do was help him out because you and your mother left him with absolutely nothing. And you fall for it. You fall for it every single time because he says you use to be daddy’s little girl - that he had big plans for the two of you when you were old enough to learn life’s pleasures. Little did you know his biggest life pleasures had always been drugs, alcohol, and gambling.

You tied your hair up in a messy bun and bounced down the stairs. Swiftly, grabbing the car keys to your new Mercedes Andrew bought you for your sixteenth birthday, you sped walked past your little sister who tried showing you a new trick that she taught your maltese puppy.

“Look, Y/N/N!”

“Not now, Gracie,” You huffed. 

As you drove through the Cut, you couldn’t help but keep a lookout for your Pogues.  You tried not to slam on the brakes every time you caught a glimpse of blonde hair or swerve when you saw a guy John B’s height carrying a surfboard. 

You honked your horn twice when you pulled up to your dad’s shitty apartment. After no longer being able to pay his mortgage after your mom left him, he had no choice but to move into the cheapest apartment in OBX. He always tried telling you that was your fault too. 

A few minutes later, he walked out, looking like he hasn’t showered in days or knows how to change his socks.

He slid into the passenger seat with a grunt, barely passing you a second glance. “You’re late.” He said. 

You stayed quiet, knowing that anything you said would only piss him off even more since you weren’t in the mood to put up with his antics.

You drove him to his drug dealer’s house, parking outside of the one story home that looked like it was rotting from the inside out. Your dad made you take him here a couple times. Every time you stayed in the car. But today, your father had something different planned.

“Come on,” He said.

“What?” You looked at him with your brows pinched together in confusion. 

“I need you inside.”

“No, no, no, no. That wasn’t the deal.”

“Well it is now, so let’s go.” His voice was stern through his clenched teeth, his eyes unblinking. You stared at him for a long second, debating whether fighting with him was worth it. 

Without another word, you reluctantly opened your door and followed your dad into the house. It smelled like B.O and marijuanna, just like how you pictured a frat house would. Pots, pans, and plates were filled to the brim of the sink. A moldy meal that looked a couple days old sat at the round table tucked in the corner. 

Your dad lead you into the living room where three other men were sitting. Well two men and one boy you recognized immediately. You swallowed your nerves as they all turned to look at your dad, then you.

“What’d you bring me, today, Jerry?” The guy with the long black hair tied in a low bun looked at you like you were fresh meat. 

You took a small step closer to your dad, ironically looking at him for some kind of protection. You didn’t trust any of these men in this room. You didn’t care if they were your father’s friends. They were men who made poor life choices and you didn’t know how far they could take it.

You looked over at Rafe Cameron, who compared to these guys, looked like a lost kid in a carnival. He was sporting a black eye and jaw. He looked both shocked and scared to see you here, probably worried that you would torment his reputation by letting everyone know how he really spends his weekdays when he’s not partying on his daddy’s boat. Little did he know, he had just enough blackmail to use against you too. 

“This is my daughter, Y/N,” Your dad introduced you. “Y/N, this is Barry.”

Barry looked you up and down and smirked. “You look like you a part of Country Club’s world.” By the way he was pointing his thumb back at the Kook, you figured that was his nickname for Rafe.

“She is,” Your father answered for you. “Remember when you said you didn’t trust me to come up with enough money to pay you back for my blow? This is proof that I got it. That I’ll always have it.”

Bile rose up your throat and your heart twisted in your chest. Is this how your dad thought of you? An open wallet? 

Of course it is, you thought. 

Barry nodded, impressed that someone like you came from a man like your father. “Well, take a seat. Can I offer you anything? Beer? Soda? Maybe a whiff?” He pointed to the white line on his clear coffee table.

“No. Thank you.” You said slowly before looking up at your father. “I didn’t bring any cash...”

“Don’t worry sweetheart. I paid out this time - used the check you sent me for my water bill. But now Barry knows he can trust me with his shit - that I wasn’t lying about you.”

“Maybe you can help Country Club pass my shit around. You’ll get a nice discount if you do...and maybe something else,” Barry looked at you suggestively. 

“Don’t scare her off, dude, she just got here.” The other man said. He extended his arm out for you to shake his hand. “I’m Luke Maybank.”

In that moment, it felt like the whole world stopped turning. You stared at the man in front of you, drinking in all his features and matching them to JJ’s. Same blue eyes, sharp jaw line, and a perfect nose. You looked down at his hand as you hesitantly shook it. Dirty, dry, scuffed. You remembered the days and nights that JJ would limp into the Chateau. He would blame it on the Kooks but the details in his story never stuck, like he couldn’t remember them with each person he told.

“Maybank?” You repeated.

“Yeah,” He narrowed his eyes. “Do I know you?”

“I was friends with your son.” Just like that, you went from being nervous to being angry. You hated this man more than you’re own father. JJ didn’t deserve the beatings and the abuse from the man in front of you. He was nothing but a deadbeat dad who didn’t know how good his son really was to him. 

“I would have remembered a pretty face like yours.”

“He never brought me around your house,” You looked at Luke Maybank from his shoes to his face. He was wearing jeans with dirt stains on them, a fitted white tank underneath a grey and blue flannel that was ripped by the cuffs around his wrists. The bags under his eyes were as dark as the bruise on Rafe’s face and his chin was in need of a shave. “Wonder why.” You couldn’t stop the sarcasm that dripped from your tongue.

You wished you could say more, or spit in his face, or kick him where it hurts. You weren’t afraid of what would happen to you, but how he would take it out on JJ if you did.

You looked up at your dad. “I’ll wait in the car.”

You quickly walked out of the house, immediately taking in a deep breath of fresh air. Before you could hide away in the front seat of your car, Rafe called out for you to stop.

You turned, only because you didn’t know what he wanted.

“What?” You said.

“Tell your boys this isn’t over. They’re not going to get away with -”

“I’m sorry. What are you talking about?”

“The Pogues. They sunk Topper’s 2020 Malibu, 24-MXC.”

At least now you have an idea as to where his bruises came from. “Is that suppose to mean something to me?”

Rafe smirked. “I forgot. You’re not a natural born Kook.”

“And yet you and I are standing in the same douchebag’s yard. What a coincidence.”

Rafe sneered at you. If this were a cartoon, steam would be coming out of his ears. “Just tell them.”

When Rafe turned to walk back into Barry’s home, you called out to him. “How do you know it was them?” Rafe turned around. “What’s your proof?” He didn’t answer immediately, and you watched him wrack his brain for some bullshit lie, which gave you all the answers you needed. “I’m guessing there isn’t any but you think it was them because you gave them a good reason to sink Topper’s 2020 Mailbu, 24-MXC. A boat I know is the finest wake setter and number one in luxury, quality, and performance.” The only reason you knew that was because JJ would say it every time Topper and Sarah would cruise by you on the HMS Pogue, and the look on Rafe’s face made it worth every second having to listen to JJ repeat that almost every week.

If Rafe wanted to respond, he couldn’t, because your dad was now walking towards you with a mean mug on his face.

Before you could say anything, the back of your dad’s hand whipped you across the face. His wedding ring, the one he refused to take off for eighteen years, caught on the corner of your mouth, splitting your bottom lip.

Rafe jumped back, startled, and you bit back a scream. Your thumb skimmed over your lip, blood coating your finger. 

“Don’t embarrass me like that again. Got it?” You dad glared down at you.

“Sir...” Rafe’s voice shook with unease. If you weren’t silently shaking with shame, you would have been surprised that Rafe even said anything at all. 

“Trust me, kid. You don’t wanna get in between a quarrel between a dad and their kid,” Luke Maybank smirked as he made his way to his own truck that was parked in front of yours. 

You glared at the back window of the car, now shaking with both shame and anger. You knew there was nothing else you could do to change the way Luke treated his son. You knew you couldn’t stop him from hurting JJ. 

But it shouldn’t matter. Because JJ wasn’t your problem anymore.

                                                  ***************

The next morning your mom made you run her errands for her. A trip to the Cleaners to pick up Andrew’s suits, the pet store for dog food and treats, and lastly to Heyward's because, according to Gracie, he sells the best hot dogs she’s ever had. 

You were trembling with nerves as you stalked through the aisles. You kept your head down, focusing on finding everything on your mother’s list as quickly as possible so you could get the hell out of there. When you went to check out, Mr. Heyward studied you but didn’t say anything. Lord knows what Pope told him. You wouldn’t be surprised if he charged you extra just to make a point. 

“Thank you,” You said as he handed you the brown paper bag. 

He nodded silently. 

As you walked out of the store, you’re faced with three out of your four friends that you dreaded seeing. They were huddled together, whispering and bickering about something. When they heard the bell above the door chime, they all looked up at you. The four of you stood there like you had all just gone brain dead. Your mouth dried up and you forgot how to speak. 

Pope looked surprised to see you, like a ghost he wasn’t expecting to see. Kie looked glum, and you remembered your last conversation. You didn’t know what you were now. You couldn’t read JJ’s expression. His eyes are casted down on your face. He was staring at your lips. Your beautiful soft pink lips he’s dreamt about kissing for years. Now they were tainted and he was dying to know how, so he could wrap his hands around that bastard’s neck and set him straight. 

“Hi...” You said softly. You didn’t know what else to say. 

No one else had a chance to speak because the piercing noise of a police siren cut through the awkward tension. Officer Shoupe got out of his car and started approaching Pope of all people. 

"Morning Officer,” Pope said nervously.

Shoupe acted like he didn’t hear him. “I have an arrest warrant for felony of destruction of property.”

You instantly thought back to what Rafe said to you yesterday. Topper’s boat. How they’re not going to get away with it. 

You watched Shoupe with wide eyes as he told Pope to put his hands up. “Hands where I can see them.” Kie tried blocking Shoupe from getting any closer to Pope. “Young lady, out of my way.”

Heyward walked out of his shop when he heard the commotion. “You arresting my boy?”

Shoupe didn’t answer and forcefully pulled Pope’s hands behind his back. 

“Be careful!” Kie screamed at him. 

Everyone started screaming at Shoupe, trying to get him away from the boy who didn’t deserve this. Pope had a future ahead of him. One that didn’t involve relying on his parents money to get. He was a hard worker, stayed out of trouble, and even had a scholarship interview in a couple weeks that will be his one way ticket off this island. He couldn’t go to jail. It would ruin him. 

Your head started ringing as the people in front of you moved in slow motion. Rafe’s words repeated in your head - more importantly the words he didn’t say. He hesitated when you asked how they knew it was your friends. Because he didn’t know for sure. 

“Stop!” You screamed louder than anyone else, causing everyone to pause in their movements. Your friends looked at you with wide eyes and Shoupe narrowed his in suspicion. “Pope didn’t do it.” You couldn’t stop yourself from doing what you were about to do, but you knew it was better than Pope getting pushed down to the station. “I did it.”

“Y/N...” JJ started to say softly, but you cut him off. 

“You’re here for the Thornton’s sunken boat, right?” You continued, knowing that if you proved with some details that you were there, Shoupe would have no choice but to take you instead of Pope. “Pope didn’t do it. He wasn’t even with me when I did it.”

Shoupe shook his head. “Y/N, you don’t want to cover for -”

“I’m not covering. I was sick and tired of Topper and his friends always taking advantage of my friends, who do nothing but work their asses off to make sure families like mine can prop their perfectly painted toes up on some beach chairs and do nothing but lay in the sun all day. So I hit Topper where it hurt with something so replaceable as a boat because I know money is all that matters to that family.”

“Y/N, what the hell are you doing?” JJ said through clenched teeth. 

You shrugged. “What? I’m just telling the truth.” You took a deep breath and glanced at JJ one last time before focusing back on Shoupe. “You know my dad, Shoupe. And you know I’m not talking about Andrew. I mean, my real dad.” 

You tried to act like you didn’t just spill your biggest secret to really sell your story. You pretended like the eyes of all your friends weren’t burning holes in your head. 

Shoupe used to be the officer that would frequently visit your home when you lived with your dad. Neighbors would call the cops on your family a lot because the screaming got to be too much. Without your mom pressing charges, there was nothing he could do. 

“Yeah. Yeah, I know your dad,” Shoupe said softly, like he felt sorry for you that he knew exactly what you were talking about. 

“I guess I inherited his temper.”

“What?” Kie’s voice broke and tears started cascading down her cheeks. You forced yourself not to look at her. 

“I know you don’t have any proof that Pope did it. There’s no cameras posted around the Thornton’s dock.” You knew that because Sarah made you hang out with their friends a couple of times on that boat. “And there were no witnesses.” You were banking on Rafe’s reaction for this one. “So I’m guessing the Thornton’s, most likely the Mrs., paid you or something to make the arrest. But I don’t think the Sheriff would appreciate you taking someone who you have no evidence against in instead of someone confessing to the crime right to your face.”

You didn’t blink when you stared Officer Shoupe down, challenging him to go against you and fight his way to Pope. But both of you knew he couldn’t take Pope after this. 

“Is this true?” Shoupe looked at Pope.

“Yes -”

“Not you! I’m asking Pope,” Shoupe snapped, glaring at you. You knew you just ruined his entire day. 

Pope looked at you for some kind of answer. You tried subtly nodding your head, telling him it’s okay to agree. You wanted him to say it was true. 

You didn’t know what was coming next for you, but you knew you could handle it. You didn’t know if Pope could.

“Yes, sir,” Pope said.

JJ felt like he was punched in the gut. He didn’t want Pope to go to jail, but he sure as hell didn’t want you going there either. He wanted to tell you he was sorry, that he was an idiot, that he tried not to love you but failed. He knew he treated you like shit and he pushed you away. Yet here you were, still taking bullets for each of them. 

Shoupe nodded and began reading your Miranda Rights. You handed Heyward your groceries and said, “I’ll have someone pick these up.”

“Wait!” JJ tried calling out to you as Shoupe helped you into the back seat of his car. “Wait! No!”

You kept your head down as Shoupe drove away, only looking up when you knew you were at least a mile away from your friends. 

As Shoupe closed the door to a room where you were to wait to be interrogated, you smiled to yourself. Your mom was going to be pissed, you were about to get in a shit load of trouble, and the Pogues still may never talk to you again, but you knew you just saved Pope’s entire future - the one he deserved more than anything. 

And you were proud of yourself for that.

                                                   ***************

Of course Mrs. Thornton didn’t want you to go to jail. She wanted about $30,000 of restitution money to make up for it. You rolled your eyes when you heard that. All that family cares about is money. You knew she probably didn’t even care about the boat in the first place. 

Your mom screamed at you the entire ride back to your house. She took your phone and TV away and threatened to homeschool you for the next school year. Your mom was strict but her punishments never lasted long. She usually caved somewhere in the first week. You think its because she thinks your childhood was punishment enough and that behavior like this was to be expected because of it. You tried not to get that mentality stuck in your head, but sometimes you could get yourself into some trouble here and there. 

Another part of your punishment was to do the yard work around the house. Andrew had already written you a list by the time your mom forced you to wake up at 6 a.m.

You couldn’t even be mad at the punishment. Mulching the yard was the least you could do. Andrew even planned on paying the Thornton’s back if you worked for him for free the rest of the summer. 

It was about mid morning when a car pulled up your driveway. You felt like the wind was just knocked out of you when you noticed the junky Volkswagen van park. 

JJ hopped out of the Twinkie and walked in your direction. You didn’t know what to do. Were you supposed to say hi and pretend like nothing ever happened between you two? Would you go back to bickering? You looked down at your body and was mortified at what you were wearing. Although it was only some black leggings and a white tank top, you were covered in dirt and sweat, and reeked of cow manure, which you knew was what mulch was made out of. 

You tried pushing away the butterflies that swarmed your stomach when JJ stood next to you. You turned to look at him, unsure of what to say. You hated that he had this effect on you. Usually you were quick witted and were able force any kind of small talk. I mean, you were a Kook now after all. But this felt different. You didn’t want to have small talk with JJ. You wanted to really know him. His past, his now, his future. You didn’t want to be tongue tied. 

“Hey,” He said softly.

“Hi,” You wiped the sweat off your forehead with the back of your gloved hand. You glanced back at the van, waiting for one of your other friends to appear. “What are you doing here?”

“You weren't answering your phone and I got worried,” JJ sheepishly tucked his hand in his pockets and had a hard time of meeting your eyes. 

Ever since you mentioned a dad with a bad temper, JJ couldn’t stop thinking the worst for you. When you weren’t answering your phone, he wondered if he had done something to hurt you. The thought made him so sick with anxiety, he drove to your house to make sure you were all right.

“Yeah, my mom took my phone away. Turns out she doesn’t like it when her daughter gets arrested.” You tried to joke. “Why were you worried?”

JJ finally looked at you again. “What happened to your lip?”

You coughed from the unexpected question. You reactively bit your bottom lip and looked away. “I uh, fell on Sarah’s boat the other day.”

“Y/N...” JJ said softly and touched your elbow to make you look at him. 

“What, JJ?” You snapped, turning to look at him with a glare. He probably put two and two together the second you mentioned your dad yesterday in front of him. Just like you did when you met Luke Maybank. You hated that you had this in common with the blonde Pogue, but you also knew he could be someone you could confide in, which is something you never had. “Why do you care? Just because you know about my dad now doesn’t make us friends.”

“I was wrong, okay? I was wrong about you, Y/N.”

You scoffed, “I have an asshole for a dad, JJ. Nothing else has changed.”

“I was the biggest dick to you. You tried every day to be my friend and I pushed you away. And I’m sorry. The truth is, I don’t like change and I don’t trust people because my dad -” JJ paused and looked away towards the road, unable to meet your eyes. 

“Because your dad’s just like my dad,” You said, making his head snap back to you. “I met your dad the other. It turns out they have the same drug dealer.”

“You met my dad?” JJ’s eyes went wide.

“Yeah.”

“Did you...”

“I didn’t say anything other than how we use to be friends. But trust me, there was a hell of a lot more I wanted to say.”

JJ nodded and rubbed the back of his neck. “Listen, you were right. I didn’t take the chance to get to know you because I was afraid that I would like you a lot more than I wanted to, and then you would realize you were too good for us...for me. So I pushed you away. I tried hating you so you would hate me too. But truth is, I never hated you. I could never hate you. You’re smart, funny, kind, beautiful...” Your eyes flickered up to meet his and you noticed a pink hue running up his neck, which probably matched the one on your cheeks. “I’ve always thought that. And I don’t care about where you came from. You could have been born and raised a Kook or you could have been homeless your entire life. Nothing could ever change my opinion of you. I like you, Y/N. And I miss you. The Pogues miss you and they hate me and I hate me too because I drove you away. And I’m so sorry.”

You couldn’t tell if this was a dream or not, but you weren’t going to mess this up, even if it was a dream. Because JJ was standing in front of you, telling you he missed you and that he wanted you back with him and his friends, and you’d be a fool not to take him up on that because you missed them too and you were miserable without them.

“I miss you too, JJ.”

JJ smile grew wide at your words and for a second, you thought he was going to jump up and down and cheer. “Really? You don’t hate me?”

You shook your head. “I never hated you, JJ. I never could.”

“You should.”

“No. I shouldn’t. I get why you didn’t want me around. I’m a Kook now and I was being shady when I tried hiding my dad from the rest of you. You were just protecting your friends.”

“Turned out they weren’t the ones who needed protecting,” JJ said softly.

You shook your head. “I don’t need protecting.”

“Why do you still see him if you live here now?”

“It’s complicated.”

JJ reluctantly nodded. He hated that this was a part of your life he couldn't exert himself into just yet. He had to earn that. He needed you to trust him first before you let him into such a vulnerable part of your life. But he understood that. He understood that more than anybody. 

But he was going to make sure John B kept his eyes on you. JJ knew you two were close.

“I won’t push you to tell me. But you can talk to me about it. I won’t judge you.”

“Thanks, JJ,” You said graciously. People say that all the time. You can talk to me. For the most part you never believe them. You think its just something people say to make them sound sincere. But with JJ it was different. You believed every word.

“Just promise me if you see him again to take someone with you. Like John B or something.”

“Okay,” You said. You didn’t know if you meant it because all you could think about was that JJ cared enough about you to be worried. 

“Okay...” JJ said awkwardly. “So we’re good? Friends?”

Your heart cracked at the ‘F’ word but you knew you were crazy to hope for anything else. You were lucky enough to even get called a friend. You bit down on your bottom lip as your grinned and nodded. “Friends.”

“Good,” JJ nodded. “So, I’ll see you soon?”

“Yeah, I’ll see you soon.”

“Okay...” JJ clapped his hands in front of him nervously. “Good. Then I’m just gonna...”

“Yeah, I should probably get back to...” You pointed back to the mulch.

“Bye, Sassy.”

You turned back to the mulch in your wheelbarrow and bit back the urge to squeal in delight, at least until the van pulled out of your driveway again. 

“Actually you know what?” JJ said, making you turn around. He was walking back over to you with a determined look on his face. “Screw friends.” 

“What -”

Before you could process what was happening, JJ cupped your cheeks and smashed his lips against yours. You instantly kissed him back and pulled him closer to you by fisting your hands into his shirt. The butterflies in your body transformed into a stampeded and your heart was hammering against your rib cage. 

You’ve kissed so many other guys before, but this one felt different. There was a passion behind this one - a meaning that felt so deep it could only be explained through actions. Kissing JJ felt right, like you had done this hundreds of times before. 

JJ pulled away first and rested his forehead against yours, his eyes trained on your swollen lips. His breath hit your face and your legs went weak in the knees. 

“I’ve wanted to do that for about two years.” He said.

“What took you so long?” You said, your eye lashes fluttered up to look at him.

“I didn’t know what I had until it was gone,” JJ said, looking up at you. He pulled away to look you in the eyes. “I love you, Y/N. And I understand if you don’t feel the same way but - “

You pulled him in for another kiss as fireworks exploded in your head. You didn’t want to let go of this moment. You couldn't believe that everything you wanted was happening.

“I love you too.”

JJ’s eyes lit up like lights on a Christmas tree as did his smile that widened with each second. He picked you up by your waist and spun you around. You giggled above him and beamed down at him. You’ve never felt this happy in your entire life.

When he set you down, he kissed you again. “Say it again.”

You pulled him in close enough for your faces to be nose to nose. “I. Love. You. JJ Maybank.”

JJ shook his head and chuckled. “Unbelievable.”

He kissed you again, and you didn’t care if you didn’t get the yard work done in time because you fulfilled your duty as a Kook. You officially have everything you could ever want. 

And you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Tags: @allycat449-blog @zarahsloves

[phantomchick]

Merlin fic rec list

To Be A King by clotpolesonly Teen And Up, No Archive Warnings Apply, Gen, Merlin and Arthur, Merlin and Mordred, Gwen/Arthur, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Merlin's Magic Revealed, Canonical Character Death, BAMF Merlin, Dragonlord Merlin, Original setting, Magical kingdom, King Merlin, Royal!Merlin Summary: When Merlin discovers that his father was an estranged prince and he himself is now the only heir to the throne of a magical kingdom, he is forced to leave Camelot for the perils of a royal court. Will Merlin be able to win Arthur's favor again before Morgana launches an attack on a defenseless Camelot? Will he be able to defend his own kingdom at the same time or will all be lost? -

A Matter of Sovereignty by Kizmet Gen, No Archive Warnings Apply, Friendship Summary A visiting prince takes it into his head to brutalize Merlin, but sometimes the solution to a problem is in how you phrase it.

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Bumps and Bruises by platonic_boner merthur, implied/suspected abuse, Protective Arthur, Magic Revealed, pre-relationship, teen an up, canon typical violence,

Summary: Arthur notices Merlin’s constant injuries, and decides he needs to step in and protect Merlin.

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Finding Home by riventhorn Arthur/Merlin, Hurt/Comfort Summary: Written for a kinkme_merlin prompt. When Gaius retires a new physician takes over and quickly kicks Merlin out of his room and takes it for himself. Arthur finds Merlin sleeping in the stables...and it's winter.

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How To Love A Living Thing by Polomonkey Mature, merthur, Merlin/Arthur, Pendragon (Merlin), Hurt/Comfort, Abuse, Violence, Sexual Harassment, Drowning, Guilt, Romance, Protective Arthur, Mild Sexual Content, Redemption, Healing, Canon Era

Summary Guilt ridden and lonely after his confrontation with Nimueh, Merlin slowly begins to isolate himself from Arthur. When two knights take it upon themselves to teach him his place, Merlin finds himself with nowhere to turn. Will he be able to reach out to his prince before it's too late?

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Obeisance by casspeach Gen, No Archive Warnings Apply, Merlin/Arthur

Summary: It's not that Arthur won't share his toys, just that he expects to get them back undamaged

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All's Well That Ends Well by StormDancer explicit, Merlin/Arthur, Arthur Finds Out, magic reveal Summary: Merlin spent the week and a half that Arthur was gone splitting his time between crafting careful explanations that never ended up explaining the important things, the things that would make Arthur listen, and making half-baked plans to escape to Ealdor. He found a number of fire-proofing spells that would have no effect if they decided to cut his head off, and figured out how to adapt an invulnerability spell he had been trying to find a way to cast on Arthur without him noticing so that it would protect him from being decapitated, but it would have no effect on anything but metal. Despite all his frantic searching, he did not find a teleportation spell, because that would have been too simple and if there was one thing Merlin had learned in his years at Camelot, it was that nothing was ever simple.

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Deeds by the5leggedCricket Merlin/Arthur Pendragon, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Episode Related, Oblivious Arthur Pendragon, Teen and Up,

Summary: Arthur is coming of age, and that means he’s about to get Deeds—marks on his body telling him of his soulmate’s greatest accomplishments. But as he tries to find his soulmate, he also makes some worrying discoveries about the kind of person his soulmate is.

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Honorable Intentions by smilebackwards Gwaine/Merlin, Guinevere/Arthur Pendragon, Courtship, Protectiveness, Protective!Arthur, Teen and Up, Summary: There are several considerations Arthur would like to go over, starting with the state of Merlin's virtue.

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Laundry's Hard Work by supercalvin Gen, Teen and Up, Canon Era, can be read as pre-slash, BAMF Merlin

Summary: Wasn't Merlin supposed to be...tiny? When the hell had he learned to use a sword and not fall on his backside? Where the hell did those scars from? What the hell?

or Arthur still thinks Merlin is the young boy he met ten years ago and he starts to notice things in his manservant that he wasn't aware had changed at all.

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Fathom Me Out by supercalvin Merlin/Arthur, Canon Era, Magic Revealed, Teen and up,

Summary: After ten years, Arthur thinks he has Merlin all figured out. But as he watches Merlin, he finds out that he has more questions than answers. The longer he thinks about it, the more uneasy he feels. So he pushes it aside. Except, he can no longer ignore the questions he has about Merlin. Not your everyday reveal!fic

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Loyalty Before Royalty by CaffeinatedFlumadiddle Gen, Gwen & Merlin, Arthur and Merlin being the most iconic duo? I think tf not, Gwen and Merlin wreaking havoc? Teaming up against Arthur? That's the most iconic duo there, as usual, Explicit Language, Fluff and Humor, Attempt at Humor, Arthur is so exasperated, someone help him, good thing he loves them both

Summary: "Where did you get that?" Arthur asked, but he already knew the answer. "Gwen." "...and the horse?" "Gwen." "What about the-" "Gwen." Merlin interrupted. Arthur nodded. At this point, he wasn't sure why he even bothered to ask. He was pretty certain his wife was going to knight Merlin any day now.He looked Merlin up and down for a few moments before accepting it all with a sigh. "As long as you get my armor to me tomorrow...I don't care." He finally said, turning away. Merlin cleared his throat. "Gwen gave me tomorrow off." "For the love of God." Or I hate that Gwen and Merlin's friendship kind of withered away in the later seasons so here's a oneshot about her and Merlin abusing her new royal powers because that's what happens when your best friend becomes queen.

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Know It All Knight by Shi_Toyu Leon & Merlin, Knights of the Round Table, Magic Revealed, protective leon, Arthur Finds Out, Oblivious Arthur

Summary: Leon couldn’t say for sure when the exact moment was that he figured out Merlin had magic. He’d suspected it for a little while, to be honest. He definitely had it figured out by the time Arthur managed to ‘kill’ the Great Dragon. What Leon could say for sure was the exact moment he figured out that no one else had figured out Merlin had magic.

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The Nature of Trust by Lynds Merlin's Magic Revealed, Leon is the Mam Friend, Leon is so done, Protective Gwaine, Lancelot Lives, Canon Era, Arthur Finds Out, Hurt Merlin, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Torture, Canon-Typical Violence, reference to hunting and cooking animals Summary: Leon starts to notice that the knights, one by one, are starting to trust Merlin's judgement. That he keeps warning Arthur about danger, and being right. Is there more to Merlin than meets the eye?

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Repercussions by PeaceHeather Fix-It of Sorts, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Lecture, Rants, Episode: s02e06 Beauty and the Beast, Episode: s02e05 Beauty and the Beast, Canon Era, One Shot, Gen Summary: Uther married a troll. In canon, that all worked out fine eventually. In this slight canon divergence, there is at least one noble who's not willing to let it slide so easily.

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No Harm Will Come to You Here by fancyh Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Season/Series 05, Merlin's Magic Revealed, Fluff and Angst, temporary amnesia, teen and up,

Summary: "That was magic," Arthur accuses.

"Oh." Merlin just nods, looking unperturbed.

Arthur fights to keep his expression calm, mind racing and heart pounding. "Sorcery is outlawed in Camelot. On pain of death."

Merlin splutters, finally fixing Arthur with an affronted glare. "It's not like I meant to do it!"

***

Merlin gets hit with a spell meant for Arthur and loses his memory. Revelations ensue. Set sometime after 5x02.

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Metamorphose by clotpolesonly Merlin/Arthur, Teen and Up, Between Seasons/Series, Episode: s03e01 The Tears of Uther Pendragon (Part I), Episode: s03e02 The Tears of Uther Pendragon (Part II), Mpreg, Magic Reveal, Angst with a Happy Ending, Pining, morgana redemption, some transphobic language from Merlin when he finds out he’s pregnant because of magic but it’s mostly just the shock that does it Summary: When Merlin falls into bed with Arthur, he doesn't expect for to wake up alone. He doesn't expect Arthur to give him the cold shoulder either, but there is something else he expects even less which forces him out of the kingdom for over a year. He returns to find a traitor in the court, an army on the way, and a love he'd thought all but lost waiting for him with open arms.

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Four Days To Fall In Love. by CupCakezys Teen and Up, No archive warnings apply, Merlin/Arthur, Morgana/Gwen, Soulmate AU, Arthur Knows About Merlin's Magic, Protective Arthur, Mutual Pining, Angst with a Happy Ending, Secret Relationship

Summary: In a world where everyone has a soulmate (or two or three), Arthur Pendragon knows he is destined to be alone. For Arthur can see his heartstring, could follow it to where his soulmate lived, and that could only mean one thing.

His soulmate had magic, and should they ever meet, Arthur would have to kill them.

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Sacrificial Lamb by RurouniHime Angst and Humor, Pining, First Time, First Kiss, Post Season 1, Initial Misunderstanding, But it’s resolved, Happy Ending, Fluff with a touch of angst at first

Summary: Arthur's been overworking his knights, so they come to Merlin as a last resort.

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Cheers and Spirits by CaffeinatedFlumadiddle Gen, The knights are kinda fools, but the best king, Humour, Fluff, Fluff and Humour, Knights of the Round Table & Merlin

Summary: Despite all the supposed trips to the tavern none of the knights have seen Merlin drunk. They decide to rectify that. A poor decision, really.

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Circle 'round the Truth by enviropony Merlin + Knights friendship, Gen, Magic Reveal, Oneshot, Knights of the Round Table & Merlin Summary: They know about the magic. Or, more accurately, Merlin's magic is the truth the knights circle around, and Merlin's loyalty is the one 'round which they rally. (A character study with some yelling, an action sequence, and a bit of walking.) Post-S4.

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Strict Justice by schweet_heart mutual pining, BAMF Arthur, magic reveal, canon au, oneshot, teen and up

Summary: After a particularly grueling battle, Merlin and Arthur share a quiet moment in their tent.

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before it breaks by schweet_heart Teen and Up, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, merlin whump, magic reveal, merlin & arthur, merthur

Summary: “It’s not what it looks like,” he says, hand still outstretched, barely a waver in his voice as he lies, outright, to Arthur’s face. “Sire, I can explain.”

“Can you,” Arthur says. He’s aware that he’s trembling, a seismic reaction to the outrage and denial still fighting it out inside his head, but he knows what he’s seen. What it must be. “Well, then, you’d better be quick about it, because it looks a lot like magic.”

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Until the Day I Die by Cookie Teen and Up, Oneshot, Angst, Temporary Character Death, Angst with a Happy Ending

Summary: Arthur believed Dragoon had killed his father, and so he plunged his sword deep into the sorcerer. Now Merlin was dying in his arms and Arthur was facing the future alone.

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These Castle Walls Bleed Lies by marguerite_26 Mature, hurt/comfort, Magic Reveal, Angst, Merthur, mentions of arthur/gwen, Gwen/Lancelot

Summary: With his father unfit to rule and Camelot decimated, Arthur must assume the role of King. But the truths he discovers shake the foundation of all he holds dear.

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before his eyes (he now sees clear) by hwc Teen And Up Audiences, Uther Pendragon is terrible and complicated, Merlin/Arthur

Summary: It takes Uther half a second to see Balinor in Merlin, and he's almost sure of what he should do.

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Keep Your Secrets by new_kate, orphan_account Mature, rape/non-con, torture, captivity, romance, alternate universe - canon, canon typical violence, hurt/comfort

Summary: Arthur Pendragon is captured by the bandits. While he waits to be ransomed, he slowly gets to know Merlin, the prisoner being held in the next cell.

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Crossing the Line by Ultrageekatlarge BAMF Merlin, Gen, Crack, Oneshot, Magic Reveal, Hurt! Merlin, Humour

Summary: In which Merlin gets bludgeoned, strangled, attacked, smothered, shot with glass, and tossed out a window, burned, whipped, stabbed, thrown down stairs, nearly drowned on dry land, and harpooned, and still manages to save Camelot from seven evil sorcerers, before lunch.

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Your Touch Is My Salvation by elirwen Magic Reveal, Canon Era, Oblivious idiots in love, Curses, Teen and Up, Oneshot, Hurt/Comfort

Summary: Merlin suffers from an effect of a curse. Arthur can help more than he initially thought.

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A Heavy Heart to Carry by Thursday_Next Rescue, Hurt/Comfort, Magic Reveal, Oneshot, Mature, Merlin/Arthur Pendragon

Summary: When Merlin is captured and injured, Arthur must face up to his own feelings for his manservant as well as the many secrets he discovers are being kept from him.

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Can you do that? by no_nutcracker Merlin/Mithian, no archive warnings apply, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Episode: s04e11 The Hunter's Heart, Arthur & Merlin friendship

Summary: Merlin should be overjoyed. He just found his soulmate. If only she was not betrothed to Arhur.

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His Remedy for Care by ArgentSleeper Teen and Up, canon au, Episode: s02e13 The Last Dragonlord, Angst, Canon Typical Violence, Hurt/Comfort, Fix It

Summary: Injured in the dragon attack in lieu of Arthur and afraid of being stopped from going on the mission, Merlin kept away from Gaius and never learned that Balinor was his father. Instead it's Arthur that puts two and two together as he seeks the dragonlord out, first to save his servant (not friend- they can't be friends), then to save his kingdom.

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A Considerable Head Start by ughbutidontwantto BAMF Merlin, Gen, when villains have more regard for you than friends, Camelot has a serious class problem, Merlin deserves better

Summary: Merlin is frighteningly competent and his friends are correctly concerned. Obviously they're going to follow him out to the woods. And obviously they're not going to like what they hea

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The Conscience of the King by ughbutidontwantto Gen, Post-Magic Reveal, Legal Drama, Oneshot, Friendship feels

Summary: Merlin's magic was revealed and now everyone has to deal with it in an official capacity since tragically most of these characters work in government. Arthur, predictably, is struggling to cope.

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Out of Sight, Out of Mind by BabyStepsAreStillSteps Merlin Deserved Better, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Merlin Needs a Hug (Merlin), Episode: s05e09 With All My Heart, Fix It

Summary: When Arthur turned his back on the Dolma that he didn’t know was his manservant, Merlin reminded him that he was missing a very important member of their rescue party.

What if he hadn’t?

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What They Owe Us by ironspidereilish Merlin/Arthur, Alternate Universe, Aredian’s a tax collector instead of a witch hunter but he’s still a bastard, Hurt/Comfort, Poverty, Angst with a Happy Ending, Protective Arthur Pendragon, BAMF Arthur, Canon Era, Romance, sexual coercion mentioned, BAMF Merlin

Summary: When Arthur finds out that the castle staff are having their wages held for weeks at a time and can no longer afford food or their homes, he will not rest until they are protected and Aredian is stopped.

The fact that Merlin’s stomach is rumbling while he delivers the prince his breakfast, and Arthur hates the thought of him suffering, only serves as extra motivation to fix this.

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royal blood by Rona23 crack!fic, humour, comedy, Balinor Lives, Dragonlord things, Golden Age, Bamf Arthur, Bamf Balinor, Bamf Merlin, Fix It, Magic reveal, Oblivious Arthur, Merthur

Summary: ..... as if Balinor could be killed by Bandits O.o

Alternatively: An alternative take on Balinor surviving and saving Camelot. ... And then proceeding to hold the entire kingdom hostage, because he has a frigging Dragon at his disposal :)

- The way by Naelyn Episode: s04e11 The Hunter's Heart, POV Arthur Pendragon, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Oblivious Arthur, Until He’s Not, Hurt/Comfort, Merlin Deserved Better, Communication or lack thereof, Canon Divergence

Summary: "One more word out of you, and I swear to God I will send you into exile."

He knows it’s not the pyre, knows there’s much worse, but banishment would mean staying away from Arthur forever – and, as pathetic as that might sound, he thinks he would rather die than let that happen. It is clear that the feeling is not reciprocated, clear that in Arthur’s eyes, he will never come first. There’ll always be people coming before him, and he’s made peace with that long ago – but if even Agravaine can come before him, then anyone could, no? Anyone could replace him. Call Merlin a traitor and have Arthur get rid of him. Anyone could.

Merlin no longer feels safe in Camelot.

or: Arthur threatens Merlin of banishment. To Arthur's eyes, it's all forgotten. To Merlin's, however... Well, let's just say that his faith in their mutual destiny, once unwavering, finds itself faltering at a dangerously quick rate.

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Better in the Mourning by CaffeinatedFlumadiddle Gen, Lancelot & Merlin, Knights of the Round Table & Merlin, Grief, Fluff and Angst, Gwen/Lance mentioned, let the characters grieve, 5 Knights of Grief

Summary: Merlin mourns Lancelot's death. The rest of the knights help out. (AKA Merlin gets to take advantage of not having to keep a dead loved one a secret and gets some goddamn support in this castle)

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I suppose that I look different (without the robes and crown) by WingedWolf121 Canon Era, Episode: s05e03 The Death Song of Uther Pendragon, Uther Pendragon’s A + Parenting, Ygraine/Uther, Arthur/Merlin, Balinor/Hunith, Dragonlord Merlin, BAMF Merlin, Fix-It, Angst with a Happy Ending

Summary: When Arthur blows the horn of Cathbdhah for the second time, the horn doesn’t just send Uther to the other world. It sends Arthur away as well – to a world where Ygraine never died, the Great Purge never happened, and magic lives freely at court. As do those who practice it.

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For Your Information by reni_days Merlin & Uther, Merlin/Arthur, Modern Era au, Oneshot, Teen and Up

Summary: Merlin sighs. "After your...announcement," he explains, "your father decided he needed a bit more information. Which is apparently where I come in. I'm sort of like his gay tutor, it's hard to explain."

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Good Fortune by platonic_boner Canon Era, Fluff, Merlin/Arthur, Oneshot

Summary: Arthur makes Merlin a lord, and Merlin does an astonishingly good job of running a village.

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Within Reach by foxy_mulder Explicit, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Sex, Merlin/Arthur, Angst with a Happy Ending, Oneshot, Slowburn

Summary: Nobody touches Arthur.

Merlin realizes it slowly, and when he does, he wants to kick himself for not seeing sooner. ___________ (Or, Arthur and Merlin's relationship with touch over time.)

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Moment of Weakness by TheAsexualofSpades Gen, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Arthur Knows About Merlin's Magic, Protective Knights, Protective Arthur Pendragon, Protective Merlin, Whump, Oneshot, Merlin/Arthur

Summary: After all Merlin's gone through, you'd think it would take some world-ending magic spell or an almost successful attempt on Arthur's life to shake him properly.

It isn't one of those, and Merlin has no idea why.

He just knows he can't be weak.

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The Only Reward Bestowed Upon Me by greatdumbking Gen, Oneshot, Merlin/Arthur, angst, hurt/comfort, angst with a happy ending, Episode: s04e05 His Father's Son, Fix-It, Agravaine, Canon Era, Love Confessions

Summary: “You’re wrong Merlin. I don’t need anyone. I can’t afford that luxury. The kingdom's my responsibility now, and mine to bear alone. And you must learn to accept that.”

How could this hurt so much, a third time? Merlin could feel the façade of his casual indifference faltering. His face fell, tears were clawing at his throat, creeping into his eyes. It took all his effort to nod, steel his eyes, and swallow down the rising sob.

(How did Merlin get chosen the be the bait? Why did Arthur start pushing Merlin away? Why couldn't he see how much it was hurting him?)

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Maybe Not the Most Awkward Dinner to Happen in Camelot's Citadel, but it's Definitely Up There by HopePrevails Gen, Gwen/Arthur Pendragon, Merlin, Fluff, Domestic Fluff, Oneshot, Humour, past Gwen/Merlin

Summary: When an argument about whether Merlin is remotely attractive or not breaks out over dinner, Queen Guinevere accidentally drops into the conversation that she had a crush on him when he first arrived in Camelot. Arthur takes it... like Arthur.

--x--

“Don’t look so surprised, Merlin.” Gwen said kindly. Perhaps she was the psychic. “You’re sweet and gentle, charismatic-” Arthur snorted. “- and I’m not going to let you walk out of those doors thinking you don’t look the part, either. Remember, even when you first came to Camelot, I-” She stopped herself, snapping her lips tightly shut.

-

[psychewithwings]

Relflections

hello, hello,

welcome to the dark side... this is my second collab with bnharem. Please, please, read through the rest of the collab list HERE. I am so grateful to be working with so many other talented writers and artists on this. Special shout out to @doinmybesthere for beta reading and for @kuso-deku whom I dedicate this piece fror giving me the Mirio brain rot...

TW: NSFW, 18++++ Villains, dub-con moments, sex, violence, YANDERE MIRIO, two crazy people, inter dimensional travel, killing, mentions of blood, dirty talk, some cum play

Around 7000 words

Breaking news: We have yet another report to add to the slew of attacks this month, this comes just days after we broadcast rumours of villains running rampant over the city. This spate of attacks has put the entire metropolitan area at a standstill, road closures and damaged property making it difficult for commuters to get to work in the morning. Road maintenance endeavour to do its best to keep the city running, but it seems futile when these attacks continue to increase. The entire city was brought to a standstill by the mysterious villain who has still not been named, but reports show they are nothing like we have ever experienced before. Where are the heroes now? Who will save us from the terror overwhelming our city? Every day the crime toll continues to rise and we have no one here to protect us. The Hero Public Safety Commission assured us earlier in the week that the crime rate would go down, that the top Heroes are out there protecting our city, but if so, where are they? Is it really safe to go out anymore, who can we trust? Would you put your life in the hands of a Hero today? When they have proved our streets are no longer safe. We still have no information on what is going on, or who is involved but we must remain observant. We will continue to report the latest news as we receive it, but for now, we must implore you to heed the warnings of the city-wide curfew that is soon to be implemented. If anyone has any information on these occurrences in the city please send them to us or contact the police, you can remain anonymous. The safety of our citizens is what is most important, stay vigilant and don’t go out unless it is absolutely necessary. One thing we know for sure: we can no longer rely on Heroes to protect us. The streets of our once-great city are no longer safe, we are no longer safe.

You flip off the television and rise from your seat on the couch. Your roommate and the object of your affection had already left for the night. Mirio would never obey that curfew, not as long as there were people he could be saving. That’s Mirio for you… always being the hero, even if he’d lost his quirk ages ago. But ever since the onslaught of new villains, and heroes turning to the darkside you’re patching him up more than normal… He returns with wounds more serious now, the scars abundant on his once smooth skin. He is becoming a reflection of the ruin and carnage that floods the streets. This is why you had come up with, planned out, and prepared for a way to fix everything. You could never stop him from being a hero, it was who he was… but you can get his quirk back… 

You check your pocket one last time… it’s there, wrapped in that small blue handkerchief. You examine the strange item one last time, careful not to prick yourself with it by mistake. It’s shaped like a sewing pin, only slightly larger. One prick, that’s all it takes, one prick and it will absorb the power from the first thing that it touches. Then one more prick, and the next thing it touches will absorb the gathered power. One chance, that’s all you have. 

You grip the chain around your neck and pull the locket out from inside your shirt. You read the engraving on the back, as you always do, and you smile. 

Come back to me ~ Mirio

It had been a gift, something to help you when you were learning how to use your quirk. The going part had always been easy, it was the returning from your travels that had been difficult. You open the locket, one side is a watch, the other a mirror. You check the time and write it down to the second on your arm in biro. 

7:43. 26 PM

You have 8 hours exactly and you fear you’ll need much more time than that. But your quirk’s limits are not forgiving in the slightest. A second longer and you’ll die. 

You take a deep breath, eyes now focussing on the mirror side of the locket. You’d returned this way ever since Mirio gave you the locket, but never once travelled forward through the mirror before. You meet your own eyes and start to feel the familiar pull, your face turning that strange shade of blue. 

Please let this work. Please, take me to Mirio. 

The gravity in the mirror builds and you can feel the surging power of your quirk. You feel yourself meet your reflection, becoming one with it for a split second before you’re absorbed to the other side of the mirror. 

You land in a darkened alley. The smell of stale beer and piss invading your senses, making your head swim even more than normal. The thickness of the summer air does nothing to help. It doesn't matter how many times you use your quirk, it always leaves you dizzy, disoriented. But that was to be expected when travelling to another dimension. Your quirk was dubbed Mirror Image, it allowed you to travel to different dimensions by looking at your own reflection. 

You check your pockets again… it’s still there. The “quirk extractor”, that’s not really what it was called but you’d forgotten the actual name of it. It had taken trying quite a few different dimensions to find something like it. It was very possible that you might never find that place again. You had to treat this like it was the only one in existence, afterall, it was the only one in this existence. But where exactly was this existence?

You blink, vision clearing and you examine the alley. It looks like a regular alley, slimy brick walls, dumpster, broken liquor bottles. A few people walk past on the main street, their laughter echoing off the alley’s walls. A lightbulb buzzes over a shut metal door. But there was no Mirio. The plan was to find a mirror Mirio, a Mirio that had never lost his quirk... extract this Mirio’s quirk and bring it back to your Mirio, the Mirio you loved. 

You had done enough dimensional travel to know that every version of the self was weirdly connected. That’s why you had travelled forward through the mirror he had given you this time. You had hoped it would bring you to another Mirio, since the mirror had never failed to take you back to him… even if you were in a strange corner of the universe. But alas, it was like travelling through any other reflection. As usual, you stand in an unknown location, trying your best to figure out where you’ve ended up. 

You kick a stray tin can in frustration as you walk towards the more populated streets. You laugh at your own stupidity. You knew the real reason you were doing this. Maybe, this act of love, retrieving his stolen quirk would change his mind. Maybe he would take back what he had said all those years ago… the words that would never stop ringing in your ears.

You’re standing on the sidewalk, trying to decide which way to go when the sound of rusty hinges snaps you from your thoughts. You turn to look back down the dim lit alley. A man with shaggy blue hair exits the building, his red eyes gleam and your heart drops. It’s hard to see but you’d know his face anywhere, he’s practically taken over your city, Shigaraki Tomura. Take a few steps to where you’re concealed by the wall of the building. He speaks to someone who is still inside the building. You angle your head to try and hear over the busy street. “They’ve just been getting in the way is all, and I need you to get them out of the way… see?” 

Why did your quirk take you to Shigaraki when you had specifically thought of Mirio? The streetlight’s shadows help to hide your shape. You peek around to see who he is talking to. Your breath hitches in your throat as you see the tall blonde exit from the building’s wall. Mirio. You watch as he leans his shoulder against the brick from which he just emerged. He looks taller, stronger, and still has his quirk… would your Mirio have looked like this if his power had never been robbed?  His grey tshirt is pulled tight around his body and his usually done hair is ungelled, almost messy, bangs hanging just above his eyes. “That’s easy, you have anything actually worth my time?” he jokes. Shigaraki looks unamused, eyes closing in annoyance.

 “Just do it, and don’t make it so messy this time… you tend to leave a trail wherever you go,” Shigaraki scolds. Mirio grins, but it’s not the same warm smile you’d grown to love, this smile is darker, more sinister. “I’ll take care of it boss, sheesh, you worry too much,” he rolls his shoulder on the wall until his back is flush against the brick. He pushes off of it and heads towards the end of the alley. You panic as he heads your way. “It’s that hotel on the corner of Roosevelt and Third,” Shigaraki screeches after Mirio who gives him a wave of his hand. “If you weren’t so useful I’d kill you,” Shigaraki adds. Mirio’s laugh bounces off of the alley walls. “You could try,” he calls as he rounds the corner, just passing you as you crouch near some bags of garbage praying he doesn’t notice you. But he passes you, languidly walking towards the destination he was just given by Shigaraki Tomura. That’s when it hits you… by going through Mirio’s mirror, you have found yourself a mirror Mirio. An exact opposite to the man you know.  

The thoughts are swirling around in your head but there’s no time to sort through them… you have to follow him. You slowly rise from your hiding place and melt into the crowds of people. It’s lucky that Mirio is so tall, it makes him easy to follow from a safe distance away. The crowded main streets turn to less populated side streets and you have to maneuver accordingly to stay well hidden. Mirio approaches a building with a neon sign that spells out HOTEL in red letters. A glowing arrow points to the double doors at the front of the building. He hurries up the steps before slipping inside.  

You follow close behind to make sure not to lose him inside but leave a long enough gap so that it isn’t too obvious. Upon entering, you’re met with the old red carpet that should have been replaced twenty years ago. Dust clings to the fabric of the sofa and cobwebs dangle from the antique crystal chandelier. The floor is well polished however, reflecting the lights that hang from the ceiling. It’s strange that there’s no clerk at the desk but a few people piddle about the lobby. A man makes eye contact with you, furrowing his brow in confusion. A woman in a short, low cut dress slips her hand below another man's belt and whispers something in his ear. No one blinks when Mirio makes a beeline down the hallway to the left. This was not an ordinary hotel. You walk calmly after Mirio and peer down the long dark corridor. There’s not sight of him but you watch the door at the end of the hall close. There. The lights in this section of the hall are off and everything seems quiet, whereas the hall to the right was lit and loud. Sounds of pleasure and partying spilling from underneath each door. You curse Mirio for walking down the more sinister path and follow begrudgingly. 

The hall is dark save one room where hysterical cries seep out. You don’t want to know what was going on and instead keep your eyes trained on the small bit of light that pours from the window inside that end door. Upon closer inspection there is a coating of condensation on the glass. This must be the pool. 

You retrieve the quirk extractor from your pocket and remove it from it’s wrapping, careful not to prick yourself.  You slowly open the door he had gone through just moments ago. You slid inside the door slowly and carefully, making more sound than you would have liked, but it can’t be helped. Any sound easily bounces off the water of the glistening blue pool. The smell of chlorine is overwhelming and you start to realise that there aren’t very many good hiding places in a place like this.... And Mirio is nowhere to be found. You grip the quirk extractor as you hear a door towards the back of the room slam shut. Another exit… your footsteps echo far more than you would like for them to as you head towards the door. 

“Gotchya.”

The voice startles you. Your grip on the quirk extractor falters, coupled with the way you jump… you watch as it slowly descends into the water, effectively pricking the pool. The ball at the end of the extractor emits a green light as it sinks to the bottom. “You idiot!” you shout before you can think better of it. Mirio steps from the wall and quirks an eyebrow up at you. “Me idiot? You’re the one following me with the stealth of one of the 3 stooges.”

He looks even more dangerous up close. A long scar descends from his chin down his neck. And while his eyes are the same colour, there’s a glint in them which your Mirio lacks. He’s faster as this version of himself, and you don’t have time to think before your back is against the cold tile wall. “So gorgeous, gonna tell me what that thing was and why you’re following me… or will I just rip the answers out of you one by one.” You’re too confused watching as he looms over you. His expression is half pleased, half irritated. You inhale to speak but the words don’t come. The smile on his face right now… it’s the expression of someone who has killed and enjoyed it. It’s never something you could have pictured to play across Mirio’s face and it jars you. A chill runs up your spine and goosebumps prickle on your arms. He’s terrifying but also so beautiful. 

One of his hands moves up to grip your throat as he growls, “I’m waiting, bitch.” You flail as his grip tightens, scratching your nails into his arm in hopes that he will let go.  “Please Mirio, I-I’m sorry.” His grip loosens suddenly but his hand stays around your neck. “What did you call me?” You cough and inhale, then meet his eyes. There is a familiar curiosity within his gaze but it’s joined by something else, that same strange glint. Is it amusement or something much more sinister? You can’t put your finger on it. “Mirio, your name is Mirio,” you murmur. A sly smile crosses his face as he moves closer to you, his hips pinning yours to the tile. “Yes, but how do you know that?” 

You stutter, trying to find the right words, a sigh haphazardly escaping your lips as the heat from his body becomes intoxicating. “You been sent to spy by the heroes?” You shake your head and try to wiggle free, but only succeed in grinding against him. A low laugh bubbles from his throat as he pins your wrists above your head with one hand and stills your hips with his other. “That’s real cute, but not gonna get you out of trouble with me…” His eyes flick down your body then back up. “Quite the opposite actually,” he teases. Your face feels warm and your eyes dart down and away. “Aww you’re so shy now, makes me wanna eat you up.” Mirio tilts your chin upwards so you’re looking at him. His eyes have softened slightly. “Just tell me,okay? I don’t wanna have to hurt ya.” There's a strange pleading in his tone, a sincerity you didn't expect. “We know each other, Mirio… well sort of,” you match the tone of his voice. A smirk breaks on his face, “are you my stalker?” You roll your eyes, he still had a sense of humour in this universe. It’s nice to know some things never change. 

“No, no we’re friends, but I know a different… you.” He blinks before his eyes narrow. He starts to speak but you continue to explain… about your quirk, the Mirio you know, and how you’d planned to steal his quirk. You show him your locket, the engraving. He still seems suspicious as he turns it over in his hands, examining it. “You’re a crafty little liar, I’ll give you that, had this made and all, but now I’ll have to pull the truth out of you, and like I said, I really didn’t want to have to do that to you.” “Wait… I can prove it, just let me use the mirror… then I’ll leave you alone.” Mirio looks you up and down again before opening the locket and holding it out for you. 

You focus on your reflection and watch as your face turns that strange blue black colour. Guilt seeps from your mind and travels down your spine as you’re pulled towards your reflection. The quirk extractor was sitting at the bottom of the pool, now carrying within it the power of chlorine… You hadn’t helped Mirio, only discovered a dark side to his existence… which wasn’t all that bad it seemed. He hadn’t harmed you at all, just threatened you slightly and even then it had seemed he was teasing and flirting more than anything. Your Mirio had never flirted with you… on purpose. The pull of the mirror became stronger and there was a strange sadness, a feeling that you would miss this version of Mirio. This version of Mirio was void of the sunshine that the original Mirio held within him at all times, but this Mirio seemed to see you. This Mirio had given you more in a few seconds than the original Mirio had in years. You shut your eyes as you began to fall into the mirror’s reflection. The original Mirio’s words that he’d said to you that day still hanging heavy in your heart. You laugh at your own pathetic nature for the second time today. You fantasies of Mirio were just that… just fantasies. In all universes. 

A hand pushes you backwards away from the mirror. The impact is so strong you stumble, but the same hand catches you and pulls you into him. You gasp for air, your head reeling from being ripped from the portal. Mirio holds you close, rubbing a hand up and down your back. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you, I just- I didn’t want you to go.” His voice is riddled with guilt, shaking slightly. You fist your hands into his shirt, gripping the fabric as you struggle to stand. “Whoa whoa, hey,” he consoles as he sinks to his knees, bringing you with him. He wraps his arms around you and pulls you into his lap. “I really didn’t mean to- I’m sorry,” he murmurs. “I’m okay, I’ve just never been pulled from a portal before,” you stutter. His thumb brushes over your face temple. “You remember your name?” You state your name and he repeats it, “Y/n… I love it.” A smile plays on your features, cheeks heating once again upon hearing the compliment. “Hey, what’s 2 + 2?” 

“4,”

“Damn, well I guess you’re a math wiz.”

Your eyes flutter open and he smiles, “there she is.” You squeeze your eyes shut then open them once more in an effort to stop the room from spinning. “Are you gonna kill me now?” you drawl. Mirio pouts, “well that depends, are you still gonna steal my quirk for other me?” You laugh and roll your head away from him. “I can’t, it’s in the pool now, it’s absorbed the fucking power of chlorine.” Mirio laughs, “well whose fault is that?” You look up at him, there’s an intensity to his gaze when you meet his eyes. Your heart hammers against your chest… “yours.” You start to sit up, his arms still cling to you. “You’re the dummy who let go just ‘cuz I scared you.” You hum considering his words, “you don’t scare me Mirio.” 

His arms relax around you and you move to lay down on the tile floor. Your back relaxes against the floor and you move your arms over your head to rest your head in your hands. “You should be afraid, I’m a whole different me, sweetheart,” he remarks. He moves to lay next to you, mimicking your position. “You’re still Mirio,” you sigh, your eyes taking in the blank space of the ceiling. “You don’t know the things I’ve done, my body count, nothing.” “You’re still Mirio,” you insist. Laying like this you can hear the echo of your words bouncing off of the water. “He’s lucky, other me… to have a girl like you.” His last few words are whispered, failing to bounce around the room. They hang over you, adding weight to the atmosphere. “Ah well, the Mirio in my universe doesn’t see it that way,” you deflect. Mirio rolls to face you, his head laying in the crook of his arm. “I know we don’t know each other… not really, but it’s strange, I feel like I’ve known you forever.” You turn your head to look at him. His eyes are practically on fire now, that small glint having grown into a flame. “In a way we have, I know a version of you… what I’ve come to find is every universe has overlaps of some sort… you and the Mirio I know will share some things… memories even.” Mirio’s face lights up, “yes exactly, I feel like I’ve seen you in a dream or something…” You shrug, “it’s possible.” Mirio smiles, it’s a familiar smile, a sincere happiness that the Mirio of your universe wears often. Much different than the smiles this Mirio had even just a few moments ago. 

“Why are you a villain?” you ask him. Mirio clutches his chest in mock pain. “That hurts, sweetheart… Just because I don’t accept the truths the rule makers of our world have given me… that’s what makes me a “villain”?” You narrow your eyes, “I meant more that you’re a hitman working for Shigaraki Tomura.” He laughs, “heard that did you? Guess you were following me for longer than I’d realised.” He pauses and moves closer to you. “I have no problem getting rid of a few people who won’t contribute anything of value… most lives are a total waste, I’m merely an exterminator… getting rid of the bad to make more space for the good…” He says it so casually that it makes chills run up your spine. “So does that make you the good or the bad?” He laughs again though this time he is less amused with your question. “I’m just a sacrificial pawn, sweetheart… can’t be good to make space for it.” 

You reach out and touch his bare arm. His skin is hot against his fingertips. “You didn’t hurt me… when you thought I was lying, you can’t be bad…” He smiles, “That’s just because I see how good you are and I want to protect that… protect you.” His hand begins to mirror yours, stroking up and down your arm with light fingertips. “If you can see the good, then that makes you good.” 

His fingers grip into your arm and he pulls you closer to him. He reaches for the back of your neck when he notices the smudge of ink on his hand. He examines your arm and finds the numbers. “What’s this?” he asks. You sigh, “it’s the time I have to go…” He pulls your face closer to his, your noses almost touching. “You can’t stay?” You shake your head, “Only for 8 hours, else I’ll be torn apart by the universal pulls… I’m not really supposed to be here ya know,” you joke. Mirio’s face falls, “Can you come back?” You shrug, “I can but the time I can stay is deducted every single time I return to a universe until I can no longer visit anymore…” Mirio’s thumb rubs soft circles into the flesh of your cheek. “What should we do then?” he asks. You smile sadly before sitting up. You give him an impish smirk. “Well, there’s a pool, I say we swim.” 

You start by removing your top, slowly peeling it away and discarding it to the floor. Mirio follows, taking off his grey tshirt. His figure is chiseled, each muscle toned and defined. You start unbuttoning your trousers when you feel the heat of his chest flush against your back. “Can I?” he asks as his hands rest on your hips. You nod and he slowly pulls your pants down your legs. He helps you step out of them before throwing them towards the growing pile of clothes. “You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs into your skin, trailing kisses up your thighs. You grab his face with two hands and pull him to standing. “My turn,” you smirk, looping your fingers in his belt loops and pulling him towards you. You undo his pants, kissing down his chest. Savoring the taste of his skin. He groans at your touch and you feel the heat pooling low in your belly. His pants removed his stands only in grey underwear, while you remain in your bra and panties. 

You teasingly move away from him and stand on the first rung of the ladder in the deep end of the pool. You look back to where he stands, calling him to you with your gaze. He groans as he moves towards you. “I’m really holding back you know,” he growls, pressing his chest against your back, his a. “Why hold back? You can have whatever you want… Just take it, make it yours.” Mirio trails his lips up your neck, ready to suckle a mark into your skin, when you add, “if you can,” and step off the ladder into the blue water. 

As soon as the water touches your skin you’re swimming towards the other side. You hear Mirio dive in after you and know that this has all been futile. He grabs your hand and slings you gently towards the wall. He places both of his hands on either side of your body, pinning you. You wipe the water from your eyes before wrapping them around his neck. “You caught me so fast… I thought you’d chase me around more,” you provoke. He shakes the water from his hair and moves his body closer to yours. “Chasing you is a waste of fucking time right? I want to have you,” he growls. You open your mouth to say something but are silenced by his lips on yours. 

The kiss is needy, sloppy. He kisses you like he’s starving, finally being fed. His tongue draws circles around yours before sucking it into his mouth. You moan into the kiss and he responds by pulling you closer, grinding on your clothed cunt with his hardening cock. He moves to run his tongue along your bottom lip before nipping at it. You sight into the kiss, turning your head to deepen it. You pull away a wry smile on your face. Mirio’s pupils are blown, that unfamiliar glint in his eye now having a name for it, desire. 

“Miri, I want you,” his hips stutter against yours upon hearing this. “Fuck princess, I won’t be able to hold back anymore if you keep looking at me like that.” You pepper kisses to his face, tasting the chlorine on his skin. “Don’t hold back,” you whisper, “I trust you, you’re good to me, I’m yours if that’s what you really want.” His breath shakes upon hearing this and he presses his forehead to yours. “Mine? All fucking mine? Like this me?” You nod and kiss him again. This time you catch his bottom lip and suck it, pulling on it just to hear him moan. 

He helps lift you to where you’re sitting on the edge of the pool. He peels your panties down your legs before spreading them. He kisses one of your thighs before massaging the other. “So fucking perfect,” he praises, “all fucking mine.” He trails his hand and mouth up the inside of your thigh. He spreads your folds, drinking in the sight of your bare cunt. “Fuck, you’re perfect,” he sighs. “I’m gonna make you forget about any other versions of me, you’re going to be all mine.” He presses a kiss to your clit, “gonna be all fucking mine, princess.” 

He drags his tongue, slow, up your slit and circles it around your clit before sucking on it gently. You stifle a whine and you can feel him smiling in pride. “That is princess, lemme hear those sweet sounds.” He does the same move again and this time you don’t hold it in. Your sounds of pleasure echo around the pool, bouncing around and finally landing back on your own ears. But you don’t hear them, as you’re too lost in the pleasure. Mirio grips the wall of the pool with one hand while the other comes up to rest on your lower abdomen. His thumb starts rubbing soft circles on your clit while his tongue circles your hole. “Tastes so fucking good,” he growls and then shoves his tongue inside. The muscle is hot, wet, and he slowly begins to add more pressure to your clit while tongue fucking you. You’re completely overcome with a mind melting pleasure as you fall back onto your elbows, your hips grinding against his face. You aren’t sure how, but you can already feel that familiar knot forming in the pit of your stomach. You’re close and Mirio seems to know as he picks up the pace. “Cum all over my face- wanna taste you-” His permission was all you needed and soon you’re clamping down around his tongue, calling broken syllables of his name. He kisses your cunt as you come down from your high. “Such a good girl for me, cumming when I say.”

He lifts himself out of the pool and removes his underwear. He’s thick, incredibly so and long. The head is red, leaking pre cum. You groan at the sight, cunt aching to be filled. You reach for him, pulling him on top of you. He kisses you, deep, passionate, with lots of tongue and teeth. You can feel his cock, thick and hard pressing into your thigh. He ruts his hips into yours, his cock sliding along your thigh. “Please,” you beg. He growls and flips you to where you’re on top and he sits pressing you to him, cock wedged between the two of you. You grind against him in anticipation. “Please Miri,” you plead. He lifts you and in one swift move, you’re impaled on his cock. 

You cry out, and it echoes back to you. The stretch is incredible, a pleasurable, dull pain that makes your eyes roll into the back of your head. He carefully thrusts up into you, and you crumble, burying your face in the crook of his neck. “I don’t wanna hurt my baby,” he coos, body stilling. You shake your head, “no it feels good, y-you're just so big.” He laughs darkly, “you love the pain, don't you?” He gives another thrust to test your reaction and this time he can feel it. Your pussy dripping down his cock.He looks down, eyes blowing at the sight, “fuck baby look, I’m not even all the way inside…” You look down and moan, his cock is a little over half inside. It’s too big to fit all the way. “You cute little cunt keeps throbbing on my cock, and when she does, she drools.” He wipes up some of your combined juices with his thumb and rubs into your clit again, just as he had before. Then he starts to move. 

He starts slowly bouncing you in his lap at a gentle pace, but soon his eyes change and his thrusts become harder and faster. “I’m sorry princess, but you feel too good, I need more of you, need all of you.” Mirio fucks into you harder, his cock so big he hits every spot inside of you that makes you weak with each thrust. Your cries become louder and more desperate. His cock kissing your cervix with each thrust causes you to disintegrate in his lap. The lewd sounds of his hips smacking into your ass fills the pool. Mirio’s eyes flick down and he growls. “Look at that baby, ‘m all the way inside now, doing so good, so fucking perfect taking every inch I have to give. God you’re fucking made for me.” You sink your teeth into his neck in a desperate effort to stave off your orgasm, to savor the moment you’d waited so long for. The moment where you and Mirio Togata become one. But it feels too good, the pleasure so intense that you’re pushed over the edge again, clenching tightly around Mirio’s fat cock. “Fuck baby, do that again, milk my cock for me while I fuck you into my shape.” 

His thrusts become sloppier but he manages to continue to hit all your spots, driving his cock into you at a bruising pace. You’re shaking in his lap, body convulsing from your last orgasm as another starts to build. “Fucking hell baby, you’re so fucking perfect, and you’re mine, all fucking mine.” His hips start to stutter but his pace quickens. “I’m all yours Miri, yes, I’m yours,” you moan. He pulls your head towards him and kisses you with that same hunger as before, teeth gripping at your lower lip and him sucking on your tongue. You moan into his mouth as your orgasm washes over you, white hot. It’s too much and sends him over the edge. “That’s it, milk my cock, milk my fucking cock,” he pants, pouring his cum deep inside you. “I’m gonna get you pregnant, gonna make you mine forever,” he growls as his hot ropes of cum still paint your walls. 

Your body is shaking, the post orgasm cold mixed with your wet body has goosebumps prickling your body. He pulls his cock out and groans at the way his cum drips from your hole. He smiles, “you’re even more beautiful now that I’ve claimed you.” You smile against his skin. “I feel more beautiful,” you reply. But Mirio’s words ring in your ears. You sit up quickly but wince. “I hurt you, I’m so-” “No, that isn’t it…” You lay your head in the crook of his neck. “The longer I’m here in this dimension the weaker I become… but I’m okay, don't worry.” You nuzzle into him, trying to steal some of his warmth. He caresses your back, “I wish you could stay…” “I-I have to go back, we can’t be together forever, even though it’s all I want,” when you finally say the words you start to cry. Mirio wraps his arms around you. “You’re cold,” he says. He helps you up holding your hands, “can you stand?” You nod and he walks you back towards the shallow end of the water. He eases himself in first and then takes your hand to help you do the same. 

He cradles you to him, “but you can go back to other me, and when you make love to him, you can just think of me… we’re the same.” You look into his eyes, face pleading, “that’s just it Mirio, you aren’t the same at all… he will never love me.” Mirio’s face darkens, anger, pure anger resides in his features. “Why not?” You take a deep breath. These were the words that haunted you from the moment the other Mirio had spoken them. “He told me, I will always love you, but I will never, ever, love you like that.” You whisper this secret to him.

Mirio can see it, the weight you’ve carried in your heart. That Mirio might save people all day long, be an actual hero, but he’s the one that’s more fucked… evil. Breaking the most perfect girl he has ever known into small pieces. No, Mirio could never let such evil exist, even if that evil was technically himself. “I’m gonna kill him,” he vows as he cradles you protectively. 

Your eyes widen, and you grip onto his face. He looks at you, smiling. “Miri, do you really want to be with me forever?” He nods and kisses you, “more than anything, you’re mine now, I’ve claimed you, you belong to me.” “I belong to you,” you echo and press your forehead against his. “I think I know a way,” you inform, the grin breaking over your face. He awaits an explanation with wide eyes. “You can come back to my world with me.” Mirio narrows his eyes in confusion, “won’t that kill me? Like it kills you?” You shake your head, “no… that just has to do with the limitations of my quirk… I’ve brought someone back with me before, the only thing is… that there’s already a Mirio in my universe, which could technically throw time and space out of balance. But there’s a small window where it wouldn’t… and if you really want to kill him… then there would only be one again.” You smile and hold his face, peppering it with kisses. “You can kill him and take his place!” 

You’re met with Mirio’s grin and another sloppy kiss. “I knew I was right about you, you’re perfect.” You both climb out of the pool and dress in your clothes again. You put the locket around your neck and open it focussing on your reflection. For the first time, holding the mirror, you don’t feel the weight of the other Mirio’s words. This Mirio, now your Mirio, has filled the void that the Mirio of your universe put inside your heart. You wonder now if you’d really loved him all this time or if it was a disguised hatred and rage. You’d always found blood somewhat disturbing but now you were excited to see it. Excited to watch the man who hurt you bleed out and be destroyed by the man you loved. Excited to watch him die. 

 You grip Mirio’s hand in yours, finger interlaced. “Just don’t let go, no matter what, okay?” Mirio kisses your hand. “I won’t, swear,” he confirms. 

Your face begins to change and you feel the gravity sucking you back into your reflection, but this time, you won’t be returning to him alone and in pieces. You’ll be returning to him whole.  This time… it would be him lying in pieces on the floor. 

[sorcererrezan]

unconvinced

congratulations on outdoing yourself yet AGAIN with chapter 7 @ataleofcrowns 💛 you are truly on another level queen 😌✨

prompt: “Then tell me, how can I convince you?” (list here) pairing: X/crown rating: spicy T 😏 word count: 1,929 summary: ‘It would be so easy to make him kneel for you, the way he clearly wants to—’ 

Crown Navid shows Xelef that two can play his game.

—

Liar. 

It’s what the earth spirits had said, but now, ensconced in his palace, where he has invited in those who are merely curious about him at best and possibly strategizing his murder at worst, Navid hears it in his own voice.

The control he has maintained since Ishrah and Siham opened his doors this morning squeezes around his chest. It pinches and he can feel his heart bursting out of the gaps of its hold, turning into spikes.

Navid’s eyes thin into slits of piercing gold. His tone, now devoid of its casual charm, is flat. Unamused. “I’m not convinced.”

Xelef, just as persistent, gauges him. Navid can pinpoint the exact moment the sellsword decides on his next tactic, green eyes shifting hues like a turning emerald.

“Then tell me, how can I convince you?” 

Just as much as Xelef is surely leaning on his sensory abilities, Navid’s awareness of the situation rises. Above his disrespected aggravation and Xelef’s agile contortions he can see the conflict between his own present and Xelef’s past. In the back of his mind he notes a sense of affronted duplicity—isn’t this the same man that warned him against self-destructive paralysis, the one that saw through his worries leading up to today and offered reassuring distraction?

Why can’t Xelef use that insight to understand the position he’s put a newly coronated Crown in, instead of to devise an escape from the consequences of his impulses?

Xelef steps close, as skilled at wielding a weapon as he is his own body. Navid’s thick brows furrow at himself, at the way his reaction betrays him, heart rabbiting in response to the enticingly deep fragrance clouding the mercenary, the ridges and valleys of his form set in such a tantalizing display. Navid can feel the heat from Xelef’s bare chest even through the rich fabric of his ceremonial robes and the magic imbued in them. Xelef’s hand on his shoulder is a reminder of his size and strength, of his willful potential to overpower.  

“Shall I beg you again, on my knees this time?” 

Every single thing about him is a distraction.

If Xelef wanted to keep up their easy flirtation from this morning, he shouldn’t have soured it by testing the limits of Navid’s control. But now that he has…

An open palm finds the heated skin of Xelef’s abdomen, gliding across hard muscles; callouses catching on the random, puckered skin of his scars. Navid can hear Xelef’s rushed inhale before it turns into a low chuckle. He lets his lips brush against the goosebumps on Xelef’s neck before he murmurs, breath hot on his ear, “Kneel, mercenary.”

The last word is a sharp hiss, accompanied by the bite of his blunt nails on Xelef’s bare skin. The muscles underneath his touch jump as Navid pulls him down, fingertips gliding up his torso along the way. Xelef would look almost reverent, on his knees before him like this, if it weren’t for the devious gleam of getting what he wanted in his eyes.

Navid’s lips twist into something wicked.

“Beg for my forgiveness,” he repeats, voice husky, one hand cradling Xelef’s jaw in a commanding grip. Navid feels powerful. Different from the ways before when he has bent Xelef to his will because this time, there’s no perceptive audience. 

Distraction or not, this is all for him.

Xelef bites his bottom lip and Navid eyes the plumpness of it, gaze sharpening in vindication as the man in front of him lets out a shaky, almost whining, exhale. 

“Please forgive me, Navid,” dark eyelashes flutter in a practiced way that Navid is nonetheless susceptible to. The use of his given name throws him off guard, widening his stare. Another distraction, or an attempt at sincerity? Only the Void knows for sure.

Navid nods, letting some of his cool charm return in an inviting smile. The hand on Xelef’s jaw slides to cradle the back of his head, fingers threading through the smooth locks of his hair. “You look good like this, Xelef.”

“So do you,” he eyes Navid hungrily, not even hiding the lascivious way his stare roves from right below his waistline, up the slim taper of his waist, the flare of his shoulders, then lingers on his lips before making eye contact and meeting fire with fire. 

Navid’s smile shifts into a smirk and he tightens his hand into a domineering fist, pulling Xelef’s hair, holding him in precarious place as he leans over him. He makes a show of sliding his eyes from Xelef’s to his mouth as he bends closer then closer still, until the mercenary’s long lashes flutter closed in anticipation.

Their lips are separated only by their breath when Navid tugs—not gently—and Xelef lets out a choked half of a groan.

“Don’t ever deign to undermine me like that again. Especially not amongst these vultures,” Navid spits the last word out, voice testy and dangerous in a way Xelef has never heard before. He conceals his unspoken ‘I need you on my side.’ in another jarring pull of his hair, forcing Xelef to bare his throat to him. “Do you understand, Pale Sword?”

From his vantage point he can see Xelef’s desperate swallow, can hear the submission in his shaky exhale of a response. “Yes… my Crown.”

“Good.”

Navid breaks away like a glacier’s cliff dropping into the sea. For half a second Xelef crumples, not expecting the loss of support so immediately, before his muscles clench and he regains his balance. Spirits help him, but he is not immune to the way Xelef’s abdominals, framed by the rich textures of his formalwear, dance under his tanned, hairy skin.

Navid keeps a calculated, cunning look on his face as Xelef rises on his own, eyeing him in equal parts defeated respect and surprised annoyance. 

“I suppose I deserved that,” comes the begrudging admission. Finally, Xelef’s sincerity outweighs Navid’s doubts.

“Don’t mistake my reciprocation of your attention for naïveté,” Navid pins him with a knowing stare, a reminder that as much as Xelef can see through him, he can see the same. And to let him know that, even still, he wants to continue cultivating this “whatever you want it to be” that’s growing between them. Navid doesn’t know what Xelef’s romantic past looks like—and doesn’t much care—but if Xelef wants to keep courting his favor, he needs to know that there are harsh lines that Navid will not allow him to cross. 

“I’m sick of people hiding things I should know from me.”

The last part comes out more resentful than Navid intends, tinged with his turbulent reflections about his parents’ debilitating omissions and how exhausting it is to think of learning to divine the nobility’s nebulous motives and intentions.  

“You’ve known me for mere days, and you expect me to bare all my secrets to you because I helped you once?” Xelef snaps back, patience run ragged after Navid turned the tables on him. It stings. The fatigue of the day’s emotions slams into Navid all at once, his hurt the delayed catalyst. 

He takes a deep breath, recentering himself. Is his pride worth it? They’ve both made their point. And he doesn’t quite yet know where the line for Xelef is, when taking advantage of their attraction to each other morphs into something destructive. 

He sighs. So many calculations today, mind overstuffed by the endless observations he’s made to try to perceive everyone around him. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

Navid shrugs, closing himself off from the weight of it all. He never asked for any of this responsibility, still doesn’t understand why the spirits chose him. Did they do it with the person he could’ve been before he spent a decade on the run in mind? Or with the decorated shell of a man he is now, desperately trying to fill his insides after those he trusted to protect and guide him failed? Maybe he really is naive, for dreaming that his problems could be solved simply by finding his sorcerer and finally becoming the Crown.

“You’re right, after all. We’ve only known each other a short time, and we’re not friends. I’m only your employer, right?” If Xelef wants to shield himself with that context, so be it. Navid is just as good at hiding.

“Navid…” Regret paints Xelef’s face an unfamiliar expression. 

“It is what it is. You have your secrets. I have mine.” 

“I didn’t mean—”

“Xelef,” he interrupts tiredly with an open palm. “It’s alright. I understand. Just don’t get me killed.”

Navid forces a smile to soften the jibe, retreating back into performance. Xelef opens his mouth as if to say something, brow bunched as he seems to sway between decisions.

“I’ll just see you—”

“The Mîrs of Rojan and I have a long, bloody history together. I don’t want to speak of Behram, but…” 

Xelef holds Navid’s gaze, still wavering for a beat before choosing his path. Something parts behind his eyes, something that allows both of them to see. How alike they are. How tired. How terrified and cautiously hopeful.

Xelef tells his story about Behram’s predecessor. Navid listens raptly, fully aware that this vulnerability could be fleeting, and hangs onto it. The part of him that doesn’t ache for Xelef as he unravels the tragedy of his childhood is grateful for the distraction from his own maelstrom of trauma and emotions.

“Then why did you help me?” Navid asks, feeling the gulf of his status between him and Xelef more distinctly than ever.

“I… had my own reasons,” he doesn’t meet Navid’s eyes when he answers. Though it’s not the reassurance that he wanted to hear—that he did it for more than just the potential of gold or vengeance—at least it’s the truth.

“In any case, does this sate your curiosity a little bit?” 

Navid recognizes the attempt at lightheartedness as a tool, though just like with his own attempt earlier, it’s outweighed by the ghosts that linger around them both. 

“Is this usually how you leave people sated after kneeling for them?” It’s not quite the same playfulness that’s usually between the two of them, not after what they’ve found out about each other today, but it proves that they can bounce back. Move forward, together.

“No, but today was a special occasion,” Xelef smiles, though it looks dim on his face. It flickers away, making room for the solemnity in his voice. “You should know—I told you that because I wanted to.”

“I do know.”

Navid reaches for Xelef, this time with no ulterior motive, but someone clears their throat before they touch. 

“Yes?” Navid tries not to let exasperation color his tone—the guards don’t deserve his ire. Still, he can’t help but be disappointed at the interruption, especially since this feels like some sort of breakthrough between him and Xelef.

“Forgive the intrusion, Your Imperial Majesty.”

Ah, right. The banquet and its accompanying expectations. Navid sighs, imagining the steam rising from the bath he plans on sinking into after all this. Alone.

“You go on ahead,” Xelef concedes. “I think I need some time to myself.”

“Will I see you later?”

“You can’t get rid of me that easily,” relief flushes out Navid’s discordant emotions, and he holds on to the smile that Xelef sends his way to bolster him for the rest of the night. “You haven’t paid me yet, after all.”

“I’m good for it,” Navid hopes his returning smile, laden with the complications of things said and unsaid but sanguine nonetheless, does the same for Xelef. 

[rivalry-trope-enjoyer]

Kaeya x GN! reader: Fake Dating AU

*Started a new series of the Genshin Impact boys as different romance tropes in one-shot form, starting with Kaeya! The list will go on soon and I plan for Diluc to be next. Disclaimer: May be a little bit OOC since this is my first time writing Kaeya. 

The Kaeya as far as you had known has always been a sweet talker that wooed all the people of Mondstadt with a mysterious and alluring charm. You, too, had fallen victim to his hand. 

Unfortunately, being a traveler with no permanent place to stay in all of Teyvat, it was customary to take someone like Kaeya with you on such adventures. You didn’t hate his company; he always loved to crack jokes even if it came with a flirtatious anecdote at the end. He had even already established sweet nicknames for you and even went as far as playfully calling you “sweetheart” or “dove” from time to time. 

Spending time with him casually already seemed like a nightmare for your poor heart, and commissions and tasks were the exact same story. 

This time around you were sent on an errand to take care of some Fatui agents with Kaeya around Mondstadt, the two most capable, arguably, of sneaking around when it came to the Knights of Favonius. 

Around this time relations with diplomats have soured from the incidents that had happened in Liyue, and a lot of secretive moves are needed to take care of the root of the Fatui in Mondstadt. 

The both of you have decided to embark on your journey, in which Kaeya had the faintest of ideas that he had under his sleeves on how to get through with the Fatui. 

Upon arrival you both decide to approach them, careful with how you act and greeted them politely. 

“What is your business with the Fatui?” they grab a blade under their coats as their masked faces pointed to you both.

Kaeya casually approached them and snaked his arm around your waist, pulling your closer causing you to blush instantaneously. 

“I apologize for the intrusion, but my significant other had run a shop in Mondstadt, we sell sunsettias and apples that we farm in springvale and we have gone bankrupt from the unfair trade system of this entire nation!” Kaeya had played his part well, a little too well to make you realize how much he had been acting around you. 

He had shocked you initially with his actions, and you had thought of it to be selfish to hold onto him like this a little longer and to just pretend. 

You slowly embraced him back, which caused Kaeya to flinch initially, but tightened the grip he had on you like a warm embrace. 

“He’s right,” you stated in a sullen tone. “My husband and I, we cannot make an honest living from this, and we had heard around that your code involved economics, so we hope that we can trust you to, even out the scales a bit,” you instantly lowered your head at them with respect and tugged at Kaeya to do the same.

Waiting for a response your heart tensed up ever so slightly, but when you heard a gruff “Fine” coming from the Fatui, your heart soared in excitement. 

“We will avenge your little fruit stand at dawn tomorrow. Mondstadt’s knights will know terror,” she muttered before walking away and signaled for the rest of the Fatui to do the same. 

Kaeya had immediately let go of you and the strong winds of Mondstadt had struck you ice cold. He gave you a flirtatious smile as he held your chin with his index finger and thumb close to your lip.

“You did a great job playing my significant other there, sweetheart,” he continued to call you these playful names that made your heart twinge in confusion and embarrassment.

Realizing his skills when it came to acting, you wondered if the affection that he gave you from time to time as well as this very moment was all a ruse. 

Giving him a sullen face you slowly pulled his hand away from your chin, backing away from him and walking back to the headquarters.

“Hm? What seems to be the matter? Nothing Captain Kaeya can’t fix,” he ran to stand next to you, but you looked away from him, terrified of what he could do next to you. 

“It’s nothing, Kaeya,” you wave him off. “Nothing you can do about it, anyways...,” you mutter the last line to yourself that he had barely heard with his own ears. 

It was difficult for Kaeya to help you in such a depressed state that he had, and thought going about it by giving you space. After what had happened in the past, he preferred for you to have your moments before he’d butt in himself. 

He distracted the thoughts by letting the Knights of Favonius know about the incident and prepare for a raid at dawn. However, when leaving Jean and Lisa had noticed something drastically different about Kaeya’s behavior; a worried look on his face. 

Dismissing it as part of the Fatui’s attack, he had never really felt total fear towards them and knew how easily he could take a couple of their members head on. However, he found himself checking up on you and did not dare step in the bar he loved, knowing that because of his actions he would be the last thing that you would want to see. 

In the mean time you spent a lot of time at the tavern, letting the bard’s music and lively atmosphere drown out your overthinking thoughts, as you waited till the next morning until you had to face the mysterious Kaeya yet again. 

With a sword ready in hand and the other guards at the front of the headquarters, you watched the Fatui approach and soon became no match for the Knights of Favonius, countering the surprise raid with ease.

At first your swordsmanship kept you protected, but upon seeing Kaeya in a distance, you fumbled consistently. Forcing yourself to get back up in battle, he looked back at you, too. Worrying for your safety, a feeling that you would have last expected from him. 

As you took on more of the Fatui agents than you can handle, one had crept up behind you, and aimed a blade towards your throat. 

Fortunately, Kaeya was quick enough to act and knocked down the Fatui with a couple of blows, aiming a sword at their neck. 

“Y/N! Quit slacking off you could have died there,” his normal cunning attitude and mocking remarks seemed to have lessened tenfold.

“What, are you acting about caring about my wellbeing now?” you were fueld with anger as you let it out on the enemy attacking, knocking them out in a similar fashion with swords clashing the blades of the Fatui. 

“Well-” Kaeya parried the shots being thrown at him. “-If you consider me hiding what I’ve felt for so long acting, then I must be the most talented actor in-” he was cut off by quick attacks from the enemy. “-all of Teyvat!”

You were shocked at your statement, and in the heart of battle, yours filled with adrenaline from Kaeya’s words. “Wait-” you continued to battle those in front of you, swiftly putting them out of their misery with quick blows to free room to talk to Kaeya. “-Wait, why now?” you panted out with tire. 

He let out a cocky laugh as he took on more of the agents. “Doesn’t matter when. Doesn’t matter if you thought I was faking it before. What matters is-” he grunted out of pain when he was forcefully hit at his side. “-That I got the message across, right?”

After hours of relentless battle he finally doubled down and the Fatui had retreated, leaving you with minor injuries but Kaeya taking on more than needed. 

Sitting at his side on the battlefield, you grabbed medicine that was strapped to your waist. “Lift up your shirt,” you disregarded what he had said earlier in fear for his wellbeing. 

“Are you sure you don’t need that medicine yourself, Y/N? You’re face is awfully red,” he outstretched a shaky hand to cup your face with a wry smile, his eye shimmering as he stared at you.

Your heart thumped rapidly when combining his previous words of confession and his present actions now. You froze in time to Kaeya’s cold touch and let him be in your company this time around.

“Shut it, Captain Kaeya,” you took out the medicine and poured it over his toned chest, hands shaking from the flustered feeling you had throughout.

“Ouch, who knew that someone without a cryo vision could be so cold to a person with one?” he winced at the stinging medicine covering his wound, and in return you held his hand cupping your face.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered to him. “It’ll only hurt a for a little bit longer before it heals, if it actually hurts at all,” you stubbornly let out. 

He let out another weak laugh. “I wish I was faking it this pain this time around, Y/N, but everything I’ve said on this battlefield is the truth.”

You were silent at this point, working diligently to bandage his wound.

“Holding you had felt like I cradled the world in my arms, even if it was a temporary moment, dear,” his fingers tapped gently on your cheek. “Even if the idea of us being wed was fake, the feeling that significant others would have for each other felt real to me.”

You smiled at his notion, staring into his glimmering eye with the weak smile and face caked in scars and dirt. 

Holding him close to you, you could not help but smile back.

“And you promise that you aren’t faking it this time?” you asked.

He laughed again, taking your hand and kissing your knuckles gently. “I promise what I feel is real, Y/N, and I’d love to show you for whatever days in Teyvat we have left.” 

And in that moment, that fog of mystery unveiled Kaeya’s true nature and colors in front of you in a moment of vulnerability, one you wanted to cherish every moment and label as real. 

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

[fairy-serigala]

Are you forgetting that gray stalked lucy, by trying to follow her home?. Then getting caught by natsu. Then he broke into her apartment and stripped nude. It really shows that men can't be seen as stalkers while women characters like juvia are easy targets because she is an important side character. I literally don't understand the logic?, they did the same thing but nobody cares because gray is the tall dark and handsome guy everybody gloats over.

Look, there are other blogs for this kind of discussion, and this isn't one of them. This is the only butt-hurt gr///uvian I'm responding to, because it's the first, but from here on out I'm going to be deleting any and all messages like this.

(This ended up being much longer than I was anticipating so here's a cut so you don't have to see it all. TW: Mentions and discussion of abuse, stalking, gaslighting, sexual harassment & assault, double standards & misogyny, abuse apologism, and a single mention of rape culture.)

Let's get this over with quickly-

Gray stalked Lucy by trying to follow her home - Gray followed Lucy home because she said she thought she was being followed. He followed her to make sure she got home safely. He said this, even when he was caught by Natsu and Happy.

He broke into her apartment - So did Natsu and Happy and Erza and many, many other characters. No, it's not right when Gray does it. But it's also not right when anyone else does it. Either punish all off them or none of them, you can't cherry pick Gray because you don't like him.

He stripped nude - Yep. You're right. Go get yourself a cookie.

My friend runs the blog @absolutezerotolerance and I've heard all about you, Anon. I get it, you don't like Gray, you think he's an awful person who deserves all the abuse he endured, but here's the thing because you refuse to listen.

Just because Gray has done some shitty things, does not mean he deserves to be stalked and abused.

If you think he does then I hope to GOD that we never meet because you are an abuse apologist and I do not need to know someone like you.

Men who stalk women should be held accountable for their actions, it is not acceptable. Women who stalk men should be held accountable for their actions, it is not acceptable. There should not be a double standard, but unfortunately there is, and it doesn't go the way you think it does.

We hear all too often about men and masc. folk who get abused and stalked and hurt and no one believes them, because men are meant to be strong and tough and hide their emotions. I've seen on this very website people who believe that men are incapable of being abused because of some made up genetic component.

Men and masc. folk need to be listened to. This is not something that can be brushed aside, it is key and it is crucial. The wellbeing of men and masc. folk cannot be ignored.

And this is what's happening here, with Gray and Juvia and Lucy. No, it's not okay when Gray does it to Lucy. But Gray has suffered more at the hands of Juvia. That's all.

Gray should be held accountable for his actions, but Juvia's actions are simply further reaching and far more detrimental. They are indicative of a problem that makes me so, so sad to see.

Juvia isn't an easy target because we're looking for someone to hate. That isn't how this works, Anon. We hate Juvia because she gave us a reason to. Because she stalked Gray multiple times, including across several countries to Isvan. Because she has emotionally manipulated and gaslit him multiple times both after Ultear sacrificed herself and saved Gray, and on top of Gray's parents' grave after his father died a second time. Because she has a history of sexually harassing him - including touching him without permission and refusing to let go, and asking him to spank her when they a) aren't a couple and b) he makes it clear that he isn't comfortable with that. Because she objectifies him to such an extent that everything in her room is Gray-themed in some way - from multiple stuffed plushes, to a bar of soap that she uses to wash herself with. Because she admitted to sexually assaulting him during the one year time skip. Because he does not consent to what she does to him and she doesn't listen. Because she drugged him in an attempt to make her love him - removing consent from the equation all together.

What Gray does to Lucy isn't okay. But Juvia has a much, much longer list of crimes. This isn't okay to ignore. Especially when it's romanticised to this degree.

Your reasoning for ignoring everything Gray has gone through is the exact same reasoning that abuse apologisers and devil's advocates use to ignore women when they report abuse against them. "They're too pretty" or "this person did [x] to [third party] so they deserved it". It's a couple steps to the left of rape culture. Going to absurd lengths to ignore and dismiss Juvia of all wrongdoing and instead putting all the blame on Gray.

When I, or my friends, talk about GrUvia, we don't have to talk about Lucy. If she isn't relevant to the discussion, we don't have to bring her up and say "oh but don't think Gray's perfect because xyz". It doesn't cripple our arguments and it doesn't suddenly make everything we say redundant.

There are parts of Juvia that need to be discussed critically because they're a microcosm of a much bigger issue with today's society and the way it responds to abuse, abuse victims and abuse survivors.

We need to be able to look at situations like GrUvia and recognise that they're dangerous. Otherwise, how are we meant to do that when it comes to the real world? How am I meant to trust that if someone comes to you, Anon, saying they've been abused that you'll believe and help them?

This isn't about who's done worse, this is about the victims of stalking and abuse.

Laser focusing on the perpetrators only makes it more likely for victims to fall through the cracks without justice. And some, like Gray, may end up giving into their abusers and that isn't okay on any level.

Suffering isn't a competition, Anon. Gray is able to do shitty things and still be a victim, his right to health and safety can't be taken away because he isn't flawless. No one is flawless, but everyone deserves to be safe. This is all about empathy and listening to victims and having the ability to realise when a piece of media is perpetuating an idea that hurts and kills real people.

[libraryofloveletters]

Grey Sky Silhouette

Spencer Reid x Reader 

Warnings: Post-prison Spencer (some of y’all don't like it), brief mention of murder, some kisses

Category: Angst/ lil bit of fluff at the end

Word Count: 2.7k

Author’s Note: I saw this picture and idk inspiration struck so here we are

italics are flashbacks 

-----

Grey clouds blocked out the sun, the curtains in the bedroom pulled shut. Rolling to his side of the bed, there was an empty spot, a spot where he should be. 

The sun was gone and so was your sunshine, your sweet love, your best friend, someone you hadn’t seen in months simply because he didn’t want to see you. 

You weren't ready to face the fact that you could have lost him over something he didn't do. Guilt hit you and you pushed the feeling away, you were ready to see him but he wasn't ready to see you. 

“Who are you here to see ?” 

“Spencer Reid” 

The officer took your ID and scanned the list for your name. “Sorry, you’re not on here” 

“What ?” you had heard him but you were still confused. “What do you mean I‘m not there ? I'm his partner” 

“Sometimes the inmates take people off their list” 

The officer looked behind you at the forming line. “Please move, figure this out somewhere else. There are people waiting” 

Looking over your shoulder, there were a few people behind you. An older couple, a woman and a small child, and a man at the end of the line. You stepped away from the counter, fishing your phone out of your pocket. 

Waiting for the phone to ring, her voice filled your ear. “Hello ?” she answered, “JJ?” she knew something was off from the way you called out to her. 

“Are you there?” she asked softly. 

“Why aren’t I on the list ?” 

“He doesn't want to see you” 

“I don't care. I deserve to see him.” 

JJ sighed, there were a few moments of silence before she spoke up again. “I’ll talk to him when I go tomorrow. I promise” she reassured you. “Thanks” was all you mumbled before hanging up the phone. 

The floor was cold, all the warmth seemed to leave the apartment with him. It was constantly dark and cold, nothing you did changed that. The frame on the nightstand caught your eyes, a picture of the two of you in the hospital after one of his multiple work injuries. He sat on the hospital bed and you were standing beside him. His head rested on your side with your arm over his shoulder. 

The frame strung a nerve clearly, it’s just that you didn't notice until you felt the tear roll down your face. Flipping the frame downwards so you couldn't see the picture, you went ahead with your routine. 

Get up, sulk, get ready, work, come home to an empty apartment. 

Over and over and over again. 

Your heart hurt every time you thought of Spencer, you couldn't help it. It hurt that he didn’t want to see you even though you wanted to see him. You just had to move on, move on from the pain but not from him. 

You could never move on from him. 

The phone rang, Penelope’s name flashed across the screen. She had been checking up on you a lot more after she heard about the list fiasco, they all had. 

“Hi Penelope” you cleared your throat, you could feel her happiness through the phone. “My angel y/n! how are you today ?” she asked sweetly, you couldn't help but smile. “I’m okay for now, how are you ?” 

“I’m good! I have to go right now but I'll come by for dinner tonight!” Something felt off to you. It wasn't abnormal for Penelope to stop by or even spend the night with you but she seemed cheery, unusually cheery today. 

“Sounds like a plan, is everything okay ?” 

“Oh yeah, I'm fine sugar” it sounded like something clicked on her end or unlocked. “I have to go, I love you!” she said before hanging up. The sound of an automated voice came from her end, announcing something you didn’t catch before she hung up. 

“I love you” the words rung in your head, except it wasn’t Penelope’s voice you were hearing, it was Spencer’s. 

The sand squished under your feet as you walked down the shoreline with Spencer. His face had a scowl on it as he looked down at your feet. “What’s wrong Spence ?” you asked him, noticing the expression on his face. 

“Does that not bother you ?” he questioned, his eyes still on your sand-covered feet.

“The sand ?” you asked, he nodded. 

“Did you know that sand is usually made of silica?” he looked over at you,

“I didn't, do tell me more doctor” you smiled at the man. 

“It's actually silicon dioxide, which is a compound that makes up most of the earth's crust. It also makes up mineral quartz and has many uses like making ceramics, concrete and countertops” his eyes shifted back down at the sand, kicking some with his shoe

“I love your facts Dr. Reid” 

“And I love you” he blurted out. 

Your mouth opened slightly, letting out a small “oh” 

“I didn-” “I love you too Spencer” 

The same feeling of hurt returned. He filled your thoughts 24/7, his voice, his face, his smile, his hands, everything made you think about him. You pushed the feelings away once again and got ready for work. Dragging yourself to the kitchen, his mug sat on the counter, right where he left it three months ago. Of course you had dumped the stale coffee and washed it, but you returned it to that exact spot. You cleaned and returned it to that spot. 

That was the last thing he left laying around before he got arrested. You couldn't bring yourself to move it. 

Sighing, the kitchen was empty, there was nothing to eat. Giving up on your sad apartment, you headed out for the day.

-- 

Penelope stood in front of the green barred door, her heel tapped against the concrete as she waited for them. Only two of them were allowed in and although she worked for the FBI, she didn't have clearance like Luke and JJ did. 

The officer pulled the door open and Spencer walked through, JJ and Luke not far behind him. Penelope's arms opened and he made his way over to her, pulling her into a long awaited hug. 

“I missed you so much” she whispered to him, her arms wrapped around her friend. “I missed you too” he held her for a few moments longer before letting go. 

The four of them headed to the SUV, Penelope filling Spencer in on everything he missed the last three months. “Sergio is good, he’s at my apartment right now.” she told him while showing him pictures. 

Spencer smiled at her, he appreciated everything they had done for him while he was in there, but his mind kept drifting back to the one person he had yet to see. 

“They came to see you Spence” JJ said to him, there was a feeling of tightness in his stomach. 

“I don't- I can’t let them see me like this” Spencer’s head hung low, he couldn't look at JJ. He knew what she was going to say but he couldn't bear to hear it. 

“Why?” she asked, “y/n called and said that their name wasn’t on the list. Why’d you take it off?” 

Spencer looked up at her. They both knew why he had taken your name off, he never wanted you to see him like this. He could barely bring himself to say your name right now. 

He met you after a low point in his life, you were his saving grace. Letting you see him like this was the last thing he ever wanted. As he went to answer JJ, the alarm went off. JJ promised to be back the next day to talk to him. 

Spencer looked over the window as Luke drove down the road. Penelope’s touch brought him back from his thoughts. “They’re okay. I spoke to y/n this morning” 

“Do they know ?” Spencer asked her, his eyes still fixated on the road. Penelope shook her head. “They should be at work right now. Do you want to go home or go back to the BAU?” 

“Home” Spencer whispered. 

The word felt foreign. Home was somewhere he dreamt of while he was in prison, never did he think he'd be able to see his home again, to see you again. The drive was quiet, the song of the rain hitting the vehicle was all he heard. 

Spencer stood outside the apartment building, Penelope stood beside him. She pulled out a bunch of keys from her purse and handed them to him, “do you want me to come up with you ?” Spencer shook his head. “Thank you” he hugged her once more, he walked towards the door looking back at his friends once more before heading inside. 

The walk up was quiet, it was the middle of the day. He bumped into his neighbour who was about to take his dog out on a walk. He asked Spencer where he had been the last few months, Spencer just told him he was away on a work assignment. 

The lock clicked and he pushed the door open. The scent of your perfume and coffee filled his senses. That was a smell he’d never get tired of. He looked around, taking in the space. Although it was his place, he had gotten used to a 6x6 cell and this would take some readjustment. He slipped off his shoes and walked across the floor, his feet padded across the hardwood floor rather than the sound of clicking on concrete he had gotten used too. 

Spencer’s head peered into the kitchen, there was a pot of coffee on the counter. His hand pressed against the side of the pot, it was cold but he didn’t mind. He opened the cupboard to look for his mug but it wasn't there, he looked down to see it on the counter, the sight of the mug brought a smile to his face. 

“Do you have to go ?” you asked him, your knees curled up to your chest as you sat on the chair by the table. 

“Yes I do, you know I do” Spencer smiled at you, taking a sip of his coffee. 

“What am I going to do while you’re gone? maybe I'll adopt a puppy to keep me company” you tease him, he rolled his eyes. 

This was the first time since you had moved in that Spencer was leaving you at home by yourself for a case. “Read a book my darling, but no puppies in here” he set his mug down on the counter before making his way over to you.

He leaned down slightly, his hands cupping your face. Smiling up at him, Spencer leaned down and placed a small kiss against your lips. Your hands reached up his face, holding him close to you as he began to step away. 

“Mhm no” you mumbled against his lips, getting up as he moved back from the chair. The two of you were still holding each other and you were still kissing but you didn’t want to let go. 

“It’s only 3 days” he mumbled, his lips on yours still. 

“Spencer” you whined, he moved back towards the door and you followed him. Your arms rested over his shoulder and his hands were on your waist. “I love you” he kissed you once more, 

“I love you too” 

Returning to the living room with the mug in his hand, he made his way over to the window. He pulled the curtains open in an attempt to let some light in but was met with grey, cloudy skies instead. Spencer never minded the clouds, he wasn't a big fan of the sun nor the cold, but the rain was perfect. This was his favourite type of weather, it was not cold out but it wasn't hot either, there was a warm breeze out. Everything came to a stand still when it was like this. 

-- 

The grocery bags dragged up the stairs as you fumbled through your pocket for the keys. The sound of the record player coming from the apartment, you stopped in front of the door. Taking a moment to assess your options before opening the door. 

Best case, you had turned it on this morning and forgot to take the pin off the vinyl. Worst case, someone broke into the apartment and is waiting to kill you. 

What did you have to lose ?

The lock clicked as you turned the key, you pushed the door open and pulled the bags in with you. All the lights were off, the record player had a vinyl on it and there was a person standing by the window. The person had their back to you, they looked like a silhouette in the dull light coming from the window. 

Stepping further into the apartment, you could see the person a bit better. They wore a white shirt and grey slacks. They had a head full of brown curls, the same brown curls your love has. 

But, it couldn't be him. Could it ?

“Spencer ?” you called out, a few feet away from the person by the window. They turned towards you. 

“Spencer.” you let a breath of relief, Spencer smiled at you. “Miss me ?” he asked, you shook your head. “Always.” you smiled, Spencer gave you a small smile. He picked up the bags you left by the door and walked to the kitchen, you followed him. He began putting away the groceries, “I got it” you took the cereal box from him, “it’s okay. Can I please ?” he looked at you, you handed the box back to him. 

You watched as he put them away. “I’m gonna change, I'll be back” you let him in the kitchen and headed to the bedroom. The frame was faced down, you lifted it and put it back in its place. You changed and headed back, you needed to talk to him. 

“Spence?” you sat on the couch, he made his way over and sat beside you. “Can we talk ?” you asked, he nodded. “We can do whatever you want” he said, you sighed. 

“Why didn’t you let me come see you ? I know it was hard at first but Spencer, seriously ? I love you, I wanted to be- I should have been there for you.” You let out your feelings, you both knew this conversation was coming. It didn't matter if he got out yesterday or 20 years from now, it was going to happen. 

“I couldn’t let you see me like that y/n.”

“Like what?” 

“Rock bottom. You never need to see me like that, you understand ?” Spencer reached out and rested his hands on yours, you held his. 

“Spencer, that’s why I'm here, to help you. Rock bottom or not, I’m always gonna be here because I want to be, you understand ?” putting the emphasis on the last two words. Spencer just nodded. 

Spencer leaned into the side of the couch, you could see the sleepiness on his face. You opened your arms, he leaned forward and made himself comfortable on you. He sat between your legs, his head resting on your chest, his back against you. Spencer let out a hum as you ran your fingers through his hair. 

“I’m sorry” he mumbled. 

You leaned down and pressed a kiss on his forehead. “It's okay baby. You're home and that’s all that matters.”

---- 

Tag List: @spencer-blake-supremacy​ @mac99martin @aaron-hotchner187 @tclaerh @luke-alvez @iconicc​ @lieberhers​ @pumpkin-reads​ @katexrichardson​ @sluttytears​ @thelukealvez​ @scandinavian-punk​ @rosesonmyheart​ @haleymalaffey​ @shotarosleftpinky​ @mrs-dr-reid​ @hqtchner​ @averyhotchner​ @willlemonheadsupremacy​ @potter-reid​ @cloudy-reid​

[nincompoopydoo]

PAIRING, BAGELS, REPEAT

— I’VE SEEN FIRE, I’VE SEEN RAIN ; PART 2 / ?

PAIRING: Bruce Wayne x reader

WORD COUNT: 1909

SUMMARY: Being laid off isn’t very fun but Bruce tends to find himself even more entangled in your life, including his alter ego—Batman.

A/N: I’m loving this series and if you are, feedback is appreciated. Thank you for reading my crappy stuff aka my daydreams <3

WARNINGS: Guns! Death threats! Crying! A mental breakdown!

MASTERLIST ; MASTERPOST

James Taylor’s Fire and Rain plays like a funeral hymn on the record player, echoing through your studio apartment. You’re sitting on the ground, back against the ratty couch with a pizza box on your lap. You take a bite of a BBQ Chicken pizza slice, furiously wiping your tears away as you replayed the events from six hours ago. From being called to the principal's office to only be told that you’re one of the non-tenured teachers to be laid off due to cutbacks. Gotham High was...a tough school. The students were mean to you because well, you're young and always gave them the benefit of the doubt. Plus, you taught English Literature and frankly, your students didn’t exactly enjoy the subject as much as you wanted them to. Nevertheless, you’re devastated. Teaching was a dream of yours, and it’s being taken away from you. You cried all the way back home, tried to call your mother but it kept going to voicemail. You must have called someone else, but you don’t remember and couldn’t care less to check your phone—the whole day went by like a blur.

Then, there’s a sound. An insistent buzz, it’s the doorbell. You furrow your brows, not recalling ordering anything else other than the large pizza from Domino’s. Yet, it doesn’t cease, and you’re forced to bring yourself to stand on your feet, instinctively flattening your tousled hair to make yourself seem somewhat presentable. Like, you’re doing fine and you have everything completely under control. Maybe, you did call your mother, and she’s at the door. You’re hoping she is although she’s going to kill you for the mess.

Another buzz and you’re toddling across the wooden flooring and towards the doorway. It’s starting to become infuriating by the second, like a house fly don’t won’t stop bugging you. Considering the mood you’re in, it doesn’t take much to tick you off. Swinging the door open, you expected to see the radiant face of your mother but to your surprise, it’s not.

It’s Bruce.

Shit.

You haven’t seen him in two weeks.

You nearly choke at the sight of him in a slightly crumpled oxford blue dress shirt, sleeves rolled up, hair as much of a mess as yours and tired eyes staring down at you with concern. You note how Bruce is very charming, no matter how disarrayed he is. Meanwhile, you’re realizing the current state must be a little startling. Your eyes are probably bloodshot, hair still in a tangled mess and glaring tomato stains everywhere on your GCU t-shirt. This is such a low point for you.

“Bruce,” you say, voice raising an octave with wide eyes as you stare at him like he’s grown another head, “What are you doing here?” His frown is immediate, seemingly confused by your question. “You called me.” He gestures to his phone within his grasp. “It sounded bad even though I couldn’t make out what you were saying half of the time,” He chuckles and holds up a familiar looking paper bag “So, I got you bagels. Three of them. Thought you could use some of these.”

It takes a second or two for you to finally process what he just told you before your emotionally wrecked brain decides to do the most irrational thing ever—You just start sobbing. You’re crying so hard that it terrifies Bruce. He blinks, thoughts racing. The sight of you in complete misery strikes him like a punch to his gut and for the first time, he doesn’t know what to do. Not immediately. Yet, through glassy eyes, you manage to notice the way his face dropped and morphed into pure horror. Justification is key, you don’t want to weird him out and think you’re crazy. You wave your hand in the air dismissively, rubbing your eyes as you spoke between strangled sobs. “I’m sorry, it’s been a tough day and that’s the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me all week.”

Oh.

Your words are a tug to the heartstrings, and it sends his head reeling but relief was all that overwhelmed him. Bruce would never wish to see you hurt, especially when it’s caused by him. Actions of affection were primarily reserved for those closest to him, but he never experienced the urge to be intimate and care so much for a person ever since his parents died. Yet, out of everyone, you’re the one that brings out the most in him. Moving closer to you, he reaches and pulls you in a hesitant embrace. You stiffened at the mere touch of his arms around you, unsure of what to do with yourself.

Sure, you had a fair share of intimate moments with the man but this, this was different. You couldn’t shake the thought of how something so warm felt so right, smelt right. Despite the fact you had been trying to suppress your feelings for Bruce, and this was doing the exact opposite of that, you can’t help but feel this was what you needed at the moment. So, you let your body sag, muscles becoming loose and you let yourself truly cry for the first time.

You end up inviting him in later, when your tears are dry. You eat two of the bagels, sharing the last one with him. You called a peace offering, a gift of appreciation, for the whole emotional massacre you unexpectedly shoved at him. He simply laughs, eyes crinkling with fondness. He thinks you’re beautiful, especially when your hair is wild, laughing like you don’t have a care in the world. It’s what keeps him grounded, to know you’re raw and very real. The next thing you know, you end up shuffling cards of UNO until the wee hours of the morning—exchanging knowing smiles and Bruce trying to pick a Wild Draw card from the deck to get you to lose. But, he lets you win anyway.

He slept on your couch that night, still in his dress shirt. You must've peeked a glance at his sleeping form, squeezed onto the couch that’s clearly too small for him. Cute. You snap a picture before heading to bed. For blackmail purposes, of course.

-

You end up working a night shift at a burger joint called Big Belly Burger somewhere in midtown. Your first week comes and goes, and you’re starting to hate how your uniform itches and how the restaurant can get really filthy by the end of the day. Yet, it’s the kids from Cameron Kane High that come after school that keeps you going because it makes you miss being a teacher even though they tend to leave a mess after a meal.

Thursday comes and you’re exhausted. Even so, you’re thankful it’s a slow night. You’ve done all your cleaning duties earlier on and Lucie, the manager went out to buy a pack of cigarettes from the convenience store around the corner. Hence, it’s just you, slumped against the counter, devouring a Triple Belly Burger.

You’re half way through the burger when you hear the door swing open. Expecting to see Lucie, you turned around to see two men brandishing handguns your way. “Everything from the register, now!” The taller masked man shouted, gun gesturing to the cash register. Your eyes are wide, and you can feel your chest heaving. There was no way you’ll be able to fight them. Not two of them with guns pointed at you.

The burger drops from your hand and so does your heart. With trembling hands, you slide the drawer of the cash register open and begin pulling out dollar notes. From the corner of your eye, you spot your phone on the counter, close enough for you to make an emergency call. Your eyes scan the two men wearily and with every ounce of courage you had left, you managed to unlock your phone, pulled up the messaging app and texted the first name on the list: Bruce Wayne.

help, was all you managed to say.

To say your luck ran out was an understatement; you were never lucky anyway. One of the robbers must have caught on to what you were doing and just as the call goes through, he snatches your phone away, throws it onto the ground and shoots it.

So close, yet so far.

You don't know if the message got through.

The muzzle is now inches away from your forehead, and you hear the cock of the gun. “Don’t you dare pull somethin’ funny like or I’ll blow your brains out. Give us the money, now.” It was in that moment, your tears give way and your life flashes before your eyes. You pray for a miracle, a savior.

Then, you see him.

A looming figure appears by the doorway and your breath hitches. It’s Batman, looking like a Goddamn angel. The robbers seem to realize this too, guns quickly directed towards the vigilante. He launches batarangs to the pair of men and immediately disarms them. In a flash, he knocks them out, unconscious bodies dropping to the ground like dead flies.

You stare at him in awe although he’s very frightening and intimidating but Batman...just saved you. Now, this is a story you’re going to be telling everybody until the day you die. He approaches you with caution, and you instinctively take a step back. Then, he calls you by your name like it’s second nature. You stare at him with blank amazement, brows raised.

“You know my name?” Your voice dwindled; It’s so soft and timid you hardly hear yourself. Despite the mask, the vigilante looks like his brain just short-circuited for a moment. He clears his throat.

“...Bruce has mentioned you.”

You ignore how his synthetic voice makes every hair on the back of your neck stand and the familiarity that struck for a split second when he said your name because you’re too wrapped up with the fact that Bruce has discussed about you to his other ‘best friend’ as one might call it. Brooding over this lump of a thought, the corner of your mouth twitches. “He did?” you say with a hint of affection. It’s hard to read the man under the mask, whoever he was but you’re certain he looked taken aback by your response. Maybe, it was the way you delivered it—the longing in the very core of the expression. You may have outed your feelings for Bruce to...Batman.

This doesn’t get any stranger than that.

“Yes,” he replies curtly, and you hear the police sirens afar. “Are you hurt?” Like the true caretaker of Gotham, he wants to be sure you haven’t been injured. You shake your head, lips pressed together. The whaling of the police sirens grow louder, lights of red and blue flashing before your eyes. He appears like a shadow against the glaring lights from the police cruisers and before you can blink, he flees with a muttered ‘Goodnight’ and disappears before the police come flooding in and does Lucie. The poor woman looked at with frantic eyes as soon as she glimpsed the two men on the ground, groaning in pain.

The glint of the batarang on the floor captures your attention, you smile at this.

You may or may not have taken it back to your apartment that currently sits proudly on the bookshelf in your living room.

You’re so telling Bruce.

TAGLIST:

@raineeace

[hotchley]

by any other name

So I wrote the fic inspired by this post. It's too long for a drabble. I kinda hate it. It's not been proofread and there's little plot. It's a bit anticlimactic, but it was fun in the moment and I need to go to sleep so... yeah. We're going with it. There's a happy ending!

Trigger Warnings: intrusive thoughts, past child abuse, trauma, trauma responses, implied panic attacks, food mention, blood mention, death mention, slight implication of past dissociative episodes, religion, religious trauma, religious themes

read on ao3!

The road to hell is paved with good intentions.

Aaron remembers being told that as a young boy, shifting in his seat because the clothes his mother made him wear to church were uncomfortable. It had confused him. He'd spent so long being told hell was for bad things- sometimes he was included in that list- that good seemed to be the exact opposite of that.

He'd tried to ask his mother, but she had silenced him with a look. He didn't even bother looking at his father.

Later he realised what it meant, and found himself agreeing. After all, his father was a terrible man who hurt everyone he touched, but he always said it was with good reason. Aaron hasn't set foot in a church since Haley was buried, yet he still finds himself wishing one of the men who made his life a misery is burning in hell.

He tries to not think about the implications of that too much.

The proverb comes to mind again as he argues with Jack. Not over anything serious- not in the grand scheme of things. But to a seven-year-old boy, navigating life without his mother, it is the most important thing in the world.

They're arguing over shoes.

Jack wants to wear sandals. His father wants him to wear trainers. Hotch had checked the weather forecast that morning- it was going to rain. And he didn't want Jack catching a cold because of it.

But then Jack's bottom lip starts to quiver, and he looks to his father like he's being told his mother is in heaven and Aaron thinks of the meaning behind the words. If he doesn't let this go, then what's to say he'll need to have the next thing go his way. And the thing after that. And the thing after that.

What's to say that when Jack looks back, wondering where everything went wrong and he stopped being his father's son, he will realise it was this moment?

"Okay. Okay, wear the sandals, and then let's get going," Aaron says.

Jack, completely and blissfully unaware- as he should be- of what his father has been thinking, grins, his earlier sadness forgotten. He puts his other shoe on and then runs out the door. Aaron picks up his bag and coat, smiling slightly at the trust Jack has in his ability.

Jack's teacher smiles at them when they get to his classroom. Knowing Aaron is running late, she just takes Jack's things and bids him goodbye. The relief visibly crosses his face as he realises he won't have to make small talk. He goes to tell her about Jack's bag, but she waves him away.

She's seen enough interactions between children to know what's going on. It's why she's so unsurprised when she opens his bag to see his trainers and favourite socks are neatly tucked away for when it does inevitably rain and soak him.

Aaron makes it to work on time. Of course he does.

"Morning Hotch," Anderson says when they get into the elevator together.

He's one of the few people to follow the "no inter-team profiling" rule, so he doesn't notice how some of the tension seems to bleed out of his boss' shoulders once the nickname is used. Doesn't even realise how Hotch gives him a slight smile when his back is turned.

He steps out, and everything is as it should be.

The ghost of his father may be haunting him more than usual, but Aaron spent most of his life being ignored. He knows how to hide. He knows how easy it is to forget about someone when you bury yourself in something else.

So that's exactly what he does. He logs into his computer, and he starts making his way through emails. By the time Emily- always the last to arrive, yet always on time- sits down, taking a few minutes to speak to the others, he's gotten through all the ones that came in last night.

His ear is hurting, but he chooses to ignore it as much as he can. Halfway through his second file, he opens his door. Spencer taps Derek, and a few minutes later, the rest of the team is assembled to collaborate on a profile. It means lots of talking, and the occasional shuffling of papers. It means noise, but not so much that it's unbearable.

Aaron smiles, and it feels like the ghost of his father fades. He is loved. He is cared for. He is worth time and effort.

Despite the nature of their work, he's in a good mood as the day continues.

By lunchtime, the memory of his father is breathing down his neck, criticising everything he does. His posture is crooked. His notes are too messy. His profile isn't good enough, and the killer is going to get away with their crimes.

Just like Michael Hotchner.

He has no idea where the sudden bad day is coming from, but he can't shake it now. He will not waste the day and he will not give in, but it is just one of those days where the pain is so much more than he thinks he can tolerate. He wishes he knew how to cope properly, but he doesn't.

His pen suddenly snaps. He'd been holding it too tightly, and now his hands are covered in red ink. He was annotating. He always annotates in red, but now, as it stains his hands, all he sees is Haley's blood. Foyet's. Elle's. Kate's.

There are no tissues in his room. So he goes to the bathroom, hoping the team doesn't see what's happened. They don't, but they do hatch a plan.

Again: the road to hell is paved with good intentions.

The short walk does nothing to clear his head, and every second he spends looking at the file is a second in which he thinks about the pen just suddenly breaking. How did he not realise? How did he not know? This time it was the pen. A thing.

What happens when it's a person? Then what?

He thinks he hears someone call his name. But that's ridiculous. It's too late for lunch, and too early for anything else. If someone needed something, they would've knocked on his door, especially with his ears acting up the way they were.

"Aaron Michael Hotchner," Derek shouts.

He doesn't like using Aaron's full name, but they got him a doughnut from his favourite bakery, and he can't be bothered to walk all the way up to his office. Also, Aaron didn't respond the first three times they called for him, so if anything, the shock will force him away from his desk for a few moments. God only knows how much he needs it.

Aaron doesn't hear Derek's voice.

He hears the echo of his father.

His throat starts to close. His vision starts to blur.

There is nowhere to hide. Not in his office. He used to have spots, just in case, but Jack hates it. Jack cannot stand it, so Aaron got rid of all the things that made it possible. He would never make his son hurt the way his father made him hurt, and maybe to him that is nothing, but when Jack grows up- because he will, in time- he will realise how brave his father has always been.

But that is the future.

In the present, Aaron has nowhere to turn.

The walls are closing in.

The voice is getting louder. It is getting closer. The danger is coming towards him, and he has nowhere to hide. He has nowhere to turn.

"Aaron?" Someone says.

He lets out a sound. He presses his hand to his mouth. He cannot take it back, but he won't make another one. It will only make things worse for him. He learnt that lesson long ago.

"Hotch." A different voice. A safe voice.

He turns in that direction.

He doesn't see it, but Derek Morgan's face is filled with relief and anger and sadness all at once. Because it suddenly makes sense.

"Aaron" has been tainted by the mouth of the man who gave his friend his middle name. That man and his actions are the reason Jack's middle name is Derek, not Aaron. "Hotch" has never passed Michael's lips, and it never will. "Hotch" is the man, who didn't even flinch when a bullet wedged itself in the wall next to his head.

Aaron is the boy that cried himself to sleep, wondering why his father couldn't love him the way he was meant to.

"Hotch. You're safe. Breathe with me," he says.

Hotch does.

When the panic passes, the heat rises to his cheeks, and he silently pleads with Derek to not say a word. He realises now that the other voice was Dave. Dave, who has left the room. He feels like he's failed another father.

The door and blinds are closed. He's lost all sense of time, but he feels grounded, so it isn't too concerning.

"Thank you," he whispers. For everything, goes unsaid.

"You don't need to do that," Derek replies. Because it's not difficult. Not when it's you, are the words unspoken but still communicated.

Aaron manages a weak smile. It will be a silent understanding between them, just like so many other things.

"Would you like a moment?" Derek asks him.

Hotch doesn't trust his voice, so he just nods. Derek leaves him.

Only once he stops hearing the footsteps does he break.

He doesn't scream, even though he wants to. It has been thirty years. His body stopped knowing the touch of that man long ago, and yet every waking moment feels like it is ruled by him. He hates it, but Michael- for better or for worse- made him the man he is today, and there is no way to shake that.

Realistically, he knows that he is responsible for his actions, and that he was only influenced by his father up to a certain point, but when the tears are falling and dampening his trousers- not his shirt, they'll be too obvious- rationale is hard to cling to.

He walks down ten minutes later.

The team has been guarding his doughnut. Of course they have.

Hotch's eyes are red. Nobody comments. But everyone knows. Everyone understands now.

It is an uncomfortable silence, and it is uncomfortable to watch him try and pretend he is perfectly fine, but at least he got his treat, even though it tastes like dust in his mouth.

They get it now. Why he is always so adamant about being called Hotch. Why he hates the use of his first name. Why he so violently objected to the tradition of giving Jack his name as a middle name. Because he doesn't want his son to never be free of him.

Jack will one day give his children their grandfather's name, citing him as the greatest man he's ever known.

Again, that is the future.

In the present moment, Spencer calls him Hotch without a second thought. Dave stops calling him Aaron when he wants to get a point across, realising it only works due to fear. Emily continues to make slight alterations to the nickname that either get her an eye roll or look of horror. JJ and Penelope make sure any notes written to him use Hotch.

Derek doesn't change a thing, because their bond has always been different.

Jack comes home in trainers, understanding how much his father loves him.

It makes Hotch understand that his wishes are valid. His needs matter. His comfort is important to people.

Slowly, ever so slowly, the personalities attached to Hotchner, Hotch and Aaron merge into one.

And then Hotch introduces himself as Aaron.

The road to hell may be paved with good intentions, but intentions and actions are very different things that can completely alter the destination someone finds themselves at. And a rose by any other name would smell as sweet, so whether he is Hotch or Aaron, he is a good man, who found a way to defeat their father.

[tinyboxxtink]

"Weird Secret Friends" *Chapter 12*

Chapter 11

(i fucked this up by editing on my phone and now I have to post the next chapter link like this. )

Whoooo buddy! The angst is REAL, y'all.

I apologize for this, but also I really don't. And I made it normal length to make up for that short shitty one earlier.

Enjoy!!!! Mwahahahahha

Tag List

@madamsnape921

@lolliepopsicle

@chasingeverybreakingwave

@milkshqke

@wanniiieeee

@word-scribbless

@gibbs274

@sassyada

@aprildecker-blog

@bookishfanfic

@stars-in-the-skies-world

@stars-trash-18

@omgsuperstarg

@objection-argumentative

@thatesqcrush

@shittanyy

@mrsrafaelbarba

---------

It seemed like forever for the ambulance to get there, Rafael just sat there trembling and crying while you started to convulse in his arms. Finally the door busted open and EMT’s threw you on a gurney and took you downstairs. Rafael sprinted behind them and jumped in the back of the ambulance as it sped away.

“Y/N….Carino please, please don’t die on me…” Rafael stroked your hair as you were hooked up to oxygen and anti drug meds. It was like literal hell having to watch this all over again, even worse that it was someone he actually...loved.

“Please, please don’t die…” He looked up to the sky.

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

Rafael paced the hospital waiting area furiously, they wouldn’t let him go back with you once the ambulance got you both there. When he saw Sonny running up the hallway towards him, he grabbed him by the neck and shoved him up against the wall.

“I TOLD YOU!!!!” He screamed violently, while several nurses ran over and pulled them apart.

“Rafael! Jesus Christ--” Sonny was breathing heavily while he tried to recover from Rafael’s ambush.

“I told you something was wrong, I told you I knew her better than you did!” He tried to wrestle away from the nurses.

“Okay I’m sorry, I’m sorry alright?!” Sonny yelled, tears starting to fill his eyes. “I should have listened to you--”

“You’re god damn right you should have!!!” Rafael continued to scream.“ She could die right now, do you realize that?”

“Of course I realize that!” Sonny screamed back while looking around them, trying not to make a scene.

“God dammit Carisi, she knew better than you. Why didn't you listen to her?!” Rafael was beginning to cry; he was so upset.

“Barba I--” Sonny started to apologize.

“Excuse me, is Miss Y/L/N’s family here?” An orderly came out from the back.

“I am!” Sonny forgot about Rafael and ran over to the man, Rafael did the same.

“I’m sorry sir but this is really just a family conversation--” He started to dismiss Rafael, but Sonny put his hand up.

“He’s fine,” He assured the doctor.

“Right, well--” He cleared his throat as he led them to a more quiet area. “The damage to Y/N’s body is pretty bad,”

“....God,” Sonny muttered, putting a hand over his forehead.

“The mouthwash has several chemicals that aren’t in traditional grain alcohols, mostly lethal. And her pancreas, liver and gallbladder were already severely damaged from the years of alcohol abuse,” He explained as he looked gravely between the two men.

“No…” Rafael put his hands over his face.

Flashbacks of a very similar conversation happening between a doctor and his mother filled his mind. The way his mother fell against the wall when she heard the doctor say there was a good chance his father was never waking up.

“How bad is it, doc?” Sonny’s voice quivered, and Rafael instinctively took his hand.

“Well, we had to completely remove the gallbladder, and parts of her pancreas so she’s most likely going to develop diabetes,” He further explained. “...And she most likely will need a liver transplant, depending on how the next 24 hours go,”

“Christ…” Sonny whipped his hand from Rafael’s touch and put both of his hands over his head while he paced.

“Can we see her?” Rafael asked.

“Yes, you know your daughter is very lucky to be alive,” The doctor informed them.

“...Excuse me?” Sonny asked while he and Rafael exchanged confused looks.

“...Are you two not her dads?” The doctor waved his pen between the two men.

“Oh my god,” Rafael muttered in horror, wanting to vomit right there.

“Uh, no sir-- no we’re not,” Sonny shook his head. “I’m her uncle and this is my partner,”

“Excuse me?!” Rafael practically screamed in disgust.

“...Do you want them to let you back there to see her or not, honey?” Sonny said through his teeth.

“Right,” Rafael nodded uncomfortably, taking Sonny’s hand once more. “We’re her...Uncles,” He tried not to grimace.

“Oh, right. So sorry sirs,” The doctor apologized once more as he led your “Uncles” to the room you were in. You were unconscious, but breathing on your own.

“She might be out a while from the meds, if you’d like to come back tomorrow,” The doctor informed them once more.

“Uh, I think we’ll wait at least for a little while, if you don’t mind doc,” Sonny replied while Rafael walked up to your sleeping body and just stroked your hair lovingly.

“Whatever you two want to do is fine with me,” He nodded. “I have other patients to see, if you’ll excuse me,”

Sonny nodded to him and he walked out of the room leaving the three of you alone. Sonny ran his hands through his hair while Rafael pulled a chair up next to your bed, still stroking your hair.

“...Barba I think you should leave,” Sonny said softly.

“...What?” He laughed. “Are you...are you fucking joking me, Carisi?”

“No look,” He took a deep breath. “I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you, I’m sorry I didn’t hear her. And I’m sorry that I just...gave up, protecting her,”

“Yeah well--”

“But I hear you now, and-- and she’s going to need to go away,” He looked at your sleeping body sadly.

“She’s in no shape to go anywhere, Carisi,” Rafael clutched your hand as if he was protecting you.

“Not now, no,” Sonny agreed. “But when she’s better--”

“We don’t know if she’s going to get better!” Rafael suddenly stood up and walked towards him; Sonny backed up as he approached, afraid Rafael was going to grab him again.

“Even more reason you shouldn’t be here!” Sonny argued.

“What?”

“Barba look,” He cautiously put a hand on Rafael’s shoulder. “I...I get that you two have some kind of-- I don’t know, connection,” He glanced at you.

“But it doesn’t change the fact that you barely know her, and she barely knows you. You have a job and a life waiting for you tomorrow, you can’t be sitting here sitting vigil for some girl you slept with once,”

“How dare you fucking say that to me, Carisi,” Rafael’s eyes narrowed as he snapped his shoulder from Sonny’s grasp.

“How fucking dare you. First you don’t want me anywhere near her, then you tell her she’s nothing to me, then suddenly you think that I’m in love with her, and-- and now that I’m finally...attached to her-- you want me to just leave her alone again?”

“No, I never wanted you near her because of this exact situation!” Sonny hissed, trying not to wake you. “I told you straight up that she was complicated, and that you weren’t about that life,”

“I am about that life-- I’m serious, about her,” Rafael corrected himself, rolling his eyes at the terms Sonny used.

“Well I don’t think you should be,” Sonny crossed his arms.

“This is the jealousy thing again, isn’t it?” Rafael licked his lips angrily. “You and your stupid ego can’t stand the fact that we--”

“That is NOT it Rafael and you fucking know it,” Sonny narrowed his eyes.

“Then what is it?” Rafael crossed his arms. “It’s clearly not because it’s too much for me, because I’m flat out telling you it’s not,”

“Rafael--” Sonny placed his hands over his face. “I have spent my life protecting this girl, okay? And I may have dropped the ball here, but that just means that I will sure as hell not do it again. And that means that I have to have her best interest at heart,”

“What does that even mean?” Rafael looked at him quizzically.

“Her whole world is different now, Barba!” Sonny gestured to you. “You heard the doc. She has no gallbladder, whatever the fuck that means, she will probably get diabetes, god knows what will happen even if she needs a liver transplant, but my guess is it ain’t good!”

“...Well she won’t be able to drink alcohol,” Rafael said softly.

“Which will make her sobriety that much more urgent and permanent, Barba,” Sonny stepped towards your bed.

“She’s gonna have a long hard road ahead of herself no matter which way this goes right now, and keeping her on track is the only way she is gonna get through it. You think she’s gonna be able to focus on anything but you if you stay here?”

“I can help her--” Rafael insisted, glancing down at your innocent sleeping face. It broke his heart you were hurting, now all he wanted to do was take care of you and make sure you never hurt again.

“You don’t have the time or the freedom to do that, Rafael,” Sonny said sternly. “And you know it,” Sonny’s statement brought him back to reality.

“And you do?” He looked back up at Sonny.

“I’m a detective, Barba. It’s not like I do that much,” Sonny shrugged. “And I have enough PTO for a bit to take care of her. And she’s my responsibility! She’s MY family, Liv will understand that. What she won’t understand is you sitting Shiva at some young girl’s bedside who you barely know,”

“....And what are you going to do when she gets better?” Rafael ran a finger down your bare arm, wishing you would wake up and stop this nonsense your cousin was spewing.

“I’ll ask around,” Sonny now sat next to your bed. “I’ll find her a good place, somewhere she can be taken care of the right way, not some creepy mental hospital,”

“...Alright fine,” He sighed, looking at his watch. It was getting late, and he had an early court date.

“I’m coming back--”

“No, you’re not,” Sonny shook his head. “Look I promise you if she gets worse and needs your emergency liver or kidney or somethin’, I’ll let you know. Other than that, just-- leave her be,”

Rafael flashed back to the last time Sonny had used those words, and how as soon as he agreed, you heard him and it destroyed you. He couldn’t do that again, what if you could still hear him?

“No, I’m coming back--”

“Barba if you come back here I’m gonna tell the nurses that we broke up and you are no family member of hers,”

“You,” He shook his head. “You wouldn’t do that--”

“If it keeps you away from her, I’ll do anything right now Barba, I’m sorry,” Sonny gave him a sympathetic look.

“...She’ll never forgive you for this, Carisi,” He warned Sonny. “When she finds out you kept us apart she will never forgive you,”

“What are you Romeo and Juliet all of a sudden, counselor?” Sonny scoffed. “Give me a friggin break. I’m sure she’ll get over it, when she’s clean and sober and thinking straight,”

“I’ll never forgive you for this,” he growled with a death glare.

“...Yeah, well--” Sonny stood up and started escorting Rafael out the door. “I guess that’s something I’ll just have to live with,”

Rafael glared at him once more before turning on his heels and stomping down the hall, just as you stirred from your med nap.

“Sunshine?” Sonny quickly ran to your bedside.

“Rafa..?” You sleepily asked, you swore you heard his voice just moments ago.

“It’s Sonny,” He nervously looked back at the door, making sure Rafael hadn’t heard you wake up and came running in again.

“Oh,” You blinked several times, trying to get your vision back. When the blur in your pupils resolved, you saw Sonny’s smiling face beaming at you.

“Hey there,” He kissed your forehead. “You scared the shit outta me there, Sunshine,”

“...I’m so sorry, Sonny,” You began to cry in remorse.

“Hey hey hey,” Sonny took you in his arms and shushed you while he rocked you. “Shh shh shh, you’re alright. I’m sorry I didn’t hear you when you were asking for help, I just--I just let you go,”

“...But Rafael didn’t,” You sniffled as you looked around the room for him. “Where is he?”

“He uh--” Sonny stammered. “He left, Sunshine. Early court meeting tomorrow, y’know. Lawyer stuff,”

“Right,” You nodded.

“...He said he wouldn’t be coming back,” Sonny added with a sympathetic look.

“What?” You blinked in disbelief. Had he really just taken off? Without even saying goodbye?

“Well it’s just,” Sonny took your hands. “Honey you’re-- you’re gonna have a lot to go through these next few weeks, maybe months. And Rafael--”

“He doesn’t have time for that,” You finished for him, accepting the truth.

“Yeah,” Sonny nodded slowly.

“Right,” You picked at your blanket as you stared down at it morosely. “Well, I guess I shouldn’t have expected anything more than him dropping me here. He tried telling me that he was--”

“He was what?” Sonny quirked an eyebrow. You thought about telling him that Rafael had said he was in love with you, but you weren’t entirely sure that happened anymore, given how out of it you were at the apartment.

“...He was ready for a relationship,” You lied. “But I guess he wasn’t ready for a dumpster fire of a girlfriend,”

“You’re not a dumpster fire, Sunshine,” Sonny assured you.

“...Yeah clearly this doesn’t scream ‘damaged goods’,” You gestured to all the wires you were hooked up to.

“You’re not--” Sonny sighed and shook his head as he wrapped his arms back around you. “You’ll find someone,”

“...Not someone like him,” You whispered sadly, tears dripping down onto your IV tube.

“Well hey,” Sonny coughed as he tried to change the subject. “I better get goin’ make sure you get some good sleep,”

“...But I was just--” You tried to say you had been sleeping this whole time.

“I’ll come check on you tomorrow, kay?” Sonny kissed your head and started heading towards the door. He hated to do this, but he had to keep you safe. He turned around and gave you a sad smile.

“Hey, Sunshine?”

“Yeah, Son?”

“I uh, I don’t wanna rub it in or nothin’, I just--” Sonny cleared his throat. “Barba wanted me to tell you not to contact him anymore,”

“...Oh,” You looked over at your phone, which was charging on the table next to your bed.

“He just thought it would be easier, y’know? Clean break and all,” Sonny lied with a sad smile.

“Yeah, sure no of course,” You nodded, trying to keep it together.

“Alright well, I’ll see ya,” He nodded one more time before shutting the door, leaving you alone.

You immediately grabbed your phone and began typing a message to Rafael, telling him how you were sorry and that you never should have tried to kick him out, and that he saved your life and that you knew you were a huge mess, but that you would clean yourself and do everything in your power to be good enough for him if he just let you--and you just stared at it.

You re-read it a thousand times, tears streaming down your cheeks. You couldn’t send this, it was pathetic. He already made his choice, he tried to tell you he loved you and you had blown him off by almost dying in his arms. And he ran. You couldn’t blame him either, you’d run away faster than a Kenyan track star if you were him.

After going through all that bullshit with his dad, he’d never want to relive that with you, some girl he barely knew. There was no way. And begging him to come back to you after all the shit you said to him at your apartment was just pitiful.

You deleted the message and then started to delete his contact info, but you knew you needed to be drastic. If it was a clean break he wanted, you’d have to give it to him. You’d already put him through way too much stress and punishment than he deserved, you had to be stopped. You highlighted his number and hit “BLOCK NUMBER”, before deleting it from your phone.

There. Now there was no way you could find him, or vice versa. Clean break. You put the phone down next to you and laid down, realizing what you had just done. You had just deleted the potential love of your life from your existence, forever. You cried yourself to sleep, only dreaming of Rafael.

=============

Rafael laid down in his bed after getting home and showering the bad day off of him. He opened the text thread of your messages, and saw the ellipsis light up, signaling that you were typing. It was there for a long time, he became more and more anxious as they just flashed in the darkness, taunting him. He was so happy you were okay, he had to tell you what Sonny said but that he would never be able to keep him from you. He waited and waited, and then the dots were gone. He waited a moment for you to send it, but soon got impatient and just texted you

“Y/N I’m so glad you’re okay, you had me so worried. I miss you,”

He hit SEND, but was met with the most horrifying response:

“The number you have texted has blocked you from contacting them.”

“No…” He muttered alone in the dark. “No, this can’t be happening,”

Did Sonny have your phone? Did he do this? Did he tell you something to make you do this? Did you do this on your own when you realized he had left. Sonny had to have told you something bad, something diabolical. He had no way of contacting you now, and he would never get into the hospital to see you.

What was going on?

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

The next morning after his court session, Rafael headed over to the precinct to talk to Sonny. He practically sprinted through the door into the bullpen, to find it empty.

“...Where’s the SVU squad?” Rafael asked a cop at the front desk.

“Do I look like a concierge, Barba?” The cop rolled his eyes. “Does my badge say ‘doorman’? I don’t keep tabs on you people!”

“Thanks Louie,” Rafael rolled his eyes as he walked out of the station, dialing Sonny’s number on his phone.

“Hello?”

“What did you do?”

“Barba?”

“What did you do, Carisi?!”

“What do you mean?”

“Y/N blocked my number,”

“Well good--”

“NO, not good. Carisi. What did you say to her?”

“Y’know Barba, maybe you should take the hint and move on,”

“Oh fuck you, Carisi,” He growled into the phone. “I’m going to the hospital,”

“Yeah well, good luck getting in here counselor,” Sonny shook his head with a small laugh, glancing over at you in your room, while he stood outside. “I’ve told the nurses you were a deadbeat dad who wanted to kidnap our niece for yourself, so they’re on alert not to let you anywhere near her,”

“You’re evil,” His voice was low and horrified.

“I’m doing what’s best for my baby cousin, Barba. If that makes me the bad guy, so be it,” Sonny spoke like a mob boss, tracing the glass on the window to your room.

“I’ll see her when she gets out,” Rafael sneered.

“Well that might be difficult, seeing as I’ve found her a very nice place to go as soon as she gets outta here. Somewhere far away from here, and you,” Sonny couldn’t help but smirk.

“No, Carisi don’t do this,” Rafael became desperate, his angry threats turned to pathetic pleas. “Please don’t send her away-- I love her,”

“If you love her you’ll let her go, Rafael,” Sonny simply said, ending the call before Rafael could say anything else.

“GOD DAMMIT!!!!” Rafael screamed in the middle of the foot traffic, making people turn and stare at him.

He had to fix this. He couldn’t let you leave thinking he didn’t want you. He couldn’t lose you, not now. Not after everything.

Was he going to lose you forever?