#ill knock his head off his tiny little shoulders

[takes1]

bokuto fucking your insecurities away

i LOVE his character. very fun to write. would love to do any requests for him!! working on an oikawa request now :)

warnings. nsfw. conversations around body image issues info. nsfw / rough sex / friend sex / chubby!reader / insecure!reader / bokuto has a praise thing / impatient!bokuto / airhead!bokuto / sweet!bokuto / bokuto likes big girls / dumb dick bokuto / pool party setting / 2.3k words

haikyuu collection. more here. links. masterlist / my ao3 / request box

Watchful eyes tracked the arrival of a group of girls from the house to the poolside, all clad in their colorful swimsuits, hats, sunglasses, and smiles.

Bokuto bumped a serve up to Akaashi and grinned at the perfect opportunity to show off in front of you.

SLAM! Right into the water on the other side of the net, splashing Washio hard in the face.

He cursed loud at his unnecessary force, but quickly shut himself up when the girls came walking around the side of the pool. He pushed the water off of his face with flexed arms.

Something was wrong, though. Bokuto swam to the side of the deep-end and pushed his body up to sit on the edge despite the game going on.

"Hey!" He waved enthusiastically to a couple of girls and brought them over.

They were more than happy to bend over in front of his sculpted, shiny body, but his attention was only taken by your absence.

"Where's (Y/n)?"

They frowned and stood back up, half-heartedly mentioning that you wouldn't come out of the room they all changed in, and walked away.

That just wouldn't do. He turned to look at the house.

"Put a towel on before you go inside!!" Akaashi called, exasperated he even had to tell him.

"AAAAAHH!!" Was his response; as good at articulating his frustration as any that he had to jog the distance back for a stupid towel.

Akaashi rolled his eyes into setting another ball. Bokuto rolled his eyes, too, and slid the screen door open.

It was so cold inside, his skin prickled up instantly. He wished you'd just come out already-- enjoy the warm sunshine, let him rub sunscreen all over you, lay on his chest in the pool. His stomach pooled with heat at the fantasy of it all.

Oh, you were coming out of that room even if he had to drag you out.

Just before his hand grabbed the doorknob, he thought better for a second. A loud, rhythmic knock.

"(Y/n)!! Come outside!" He yelled into the door.

He didn't spare a single second more to linger when he heard a faint sniffle.

You weren't a mess, but your eyes were still stinging and you were not happy to be walked in on when you had nothing but an ill-fitting t-shirt over your bikini, even if it was Bokuto.

His proportions were ridiculous. Giant, hulking shoulders and a strong, wide back dipped deliciously into his tiny waist. Itty-bitty trunks showed off his powerful thighs, though he was dripping all over the carpet.

In a way, it only brought you back down to the feeling that you were not up-to-snuff to walk out in your bathing suit with all these athletic bodies outside.

"What the hell?" He yelled; not at you, just at the fact that you were clothed, and clearly trying to not cry.

A couple steps forward made you tense. He caught this, so he turned around and closed the door behind him.

Being soft wasn't one of his strong suits, but he tried with you.

His affinity for you was never-ending after he passed you one day in the hallway. One big, empty-headed smile was all it took to start your odd friendship. He used this one interaction to wedge his way up to 'studying' with your small, academic club.

His eccentricities made him charming and personable to talk to, but Bokuto was undeniably attractive and even more popular. So, you weren't sure why he associated with you, since he never paid attention in your study group.

You pushed the wet off of your face with the heel of your hand and tried to sober up a little, "I'm going home."

Your voice sounded so hoarse and weak, you regretted saying anything and not just walking out when you had the chance.

Bokuto laughed as if you were really joking.

Instead of trying to explain yourself to him, which historically never went well in your favor, you grabbed your pants off of the floor.

His gaze dropping and necessary palming of his growing ache wasn't subtle, but you couldn't see it. That tiny shirt didn't cover your ass; he had to savor the sight.

His head spun with confusion and the beginnings of frustration at the sight of more clothes, "What are you doing?"

He tried again, desperate to keep you from putting on those pants, and closed the distance between you, "Come oooon, let's just go out there and have some fun! We're playin' some ball- I want'cha to watch me win!"

His big, adoring eyes chipped at your guard. Instead of getting lost in them, you looked to the side, to the corner you were changing in when you first started feeling like this bikini was a horrible idea.

A frown made his entire face droopy when he saw your expression harden.

"I should've gotten a one-piece," You muttered.

It took a few moments for him to process what was so bad about that. It took him longer to come up with a response, which gave you enough time to shiver at the lack of space he gave you.

You felt horrible that you wanted to leave him, since he was the reason you were invited and had the courage to wear something like this in the first place. It just didn't stand up to how overwhelming the possibility of judgement might be.

Bokuto closed the gap even more so you'd look up at him, face set, "You always think too hard about this stuff."

Frustrated that he couldn't even grasp at the concept, you gripped your shirt harder.

He let up, physically unable to keep a mean mug on his face for more than a few seconds.

"I'm sure ya look real good-," His wild and unruly imagination inspired an obvious up-and-down with his eyes. Your heart skipped at his intense energy.

"So come on!" He tore himself away, grabbed your wrist, and didn't give you the chance to pick apart his tone, "Let's go!"

You weren't moving despite his jerk towards the door. A frustrated sigh made you feel a bit smaller.

He was pretty imposing when he was close to you, and not his usual high-energy self.

This topic of contention wasn't new. He brushed away your usual self-deprecating jokes, and called you cute on a number of occasions-- you thought it was a joke, or just politeness. But he never got irritated before.

"Need me to prove it?" His thumb hooked under his the hem of his trunks and pulled on them enough to make you give a quick, uneven:

"N-o,"

One uncontrollable glance down, and your face was burning fast.

You were pretty sure you just saw his dick. He laughed at your sheepish reaction and slapped a hand to the back of his neck.

"I dunno how else to convince you that you're fuckin' gorgeous."

You tried to pretend not to see him adjust, but he was watching you, like an owl waiting for his mousey dinner. It was difficult to not feel aroused and curious when you were so plainly desired and lusted after by this big, stupid hottie.

The air between you was warm and still.

After a moment of deliberation, your fingers gripped the edges of your shirt and you lifted it off. It was more of a test to see if he still felt the same.

"Damn," He sighed, lids heavy, thumb still hooked to his trunks.

His free hand guided your face up to his- you found no reason to deny him a needy, raunchy kiss. He was so forward, there was no room to doubt or overthink his intentions when his hands were filling with your hips and chest so fervently.

You had never felt so wanted before.

The ease in which he picked you up and set you onto the bed forced a startled moan against his lips.

He sucked a toothy kiss to the side of your mouth with a boyish giggle, "Sooo pretty."

This time, you took his compliment as it was intended. Unlike the countless other times he told you that and you assumed the worst.

He was only gone for the moment it took for him to wrench his own trunks off, leaving him completely bare with a generous size straining against the air.

Being naked truly didn't bother him at all. He looked so natural it was like he could walk outside like that, completely fine.

You envied his simplistic mind.

His cock was burning hot against your skin once he sandwiched it between yourself and his weight.

If there was one thing you could tell from his messy, rushed kissing, it was that he hated taking things slow. It took a few deliberate whines to keep him from yanking on the bottom piece of your bikini.

He melted at your successful efforts and the squeeze of your legs around his hips.

Your hands fluttered over his strong back, pushing, pulling, poking here and there at some hard muscles that you didn't even know existed. You wanted to enjoy as much of him as you could.

To keep his discomfort at bay, he rubbed himself against your softness, breath labored and hot on your lips.

"'Need you so fuckin' bad," He laughed, unable to cope with his peaked impatience.

This time you didn't fight his efforts to remove your bikini bottoms-- but you gasped at his unhinged lick to the inside, where you had been slowly getting them wet.

He tossed them to the side with a smile and pulled you to the edge of the mattress so he could stand. This was better for his control, in his opinion.

The guy had clocked this height to work before you had even expressed any interest much earlier.

Another few kisses you had to reign him in for and he was sliding against you, getting himself coated with your wet, yearning to be inside you already.

It helped that he gave you such a good view.

His hands kept your twitchy, plush thighs still as he pushed into you.

You gave a fretful sound, not quite as prepared for his size as you preferred.

A guttural groan escaped from him, one that only further proved his bottomless lust as valid. You watched his face tighten, then drop into something a bit sleepier- it helped you adjust better, feeling, seeing, hearing exactly how much he wanted you.

His big, strong hand grabbed the bottom half of your face, "That feel good, baby?"

He didn't wait for you to respond to him before stealing a few hungry, rough kisses from your puffy lips.

When he pulled away after stealing enough of your breath, his head flew back and left you to watch his taut, muscular body twitch and flex as he fucked deeper into your cunt.

An absolute piece of art was taking you, in a stranger's bed no less.

"Ah-h!" You whined as he set an intense pace.

His cock felt so good, stretching you out over and over again, and you gladly adjusted to his unquestionable enthusiasm.

A handsome, boyish sound was his giddy chuckle, "Ya like that?"

Those skilled, eager thrusts resonated throughout your entire body- he watched your tits bounce in your strappy top under him in a stupid daze. His hands were filled with the plush of your hips, constantly stretching to grab and pull more of you onto him.

He fucked you like he'd never get the chance to again. Under his touch, you felt like the most beautiful girl in the world. Nothing else mattered much in comparison.

"Fuck, yeah," It came out in a whimper, but still captivated him like you'd muttered some spell.

His satisfied moan at your affirmation was choked and uneven. He nabbed one of your wrists to place a kiss on, but his pussy-fixated brain could handle one thing at a time.

You needed him deeper- fuck, he looked so pretty panting on your wrist like that.

The squeeze of your thighs stalled him. His eyes were filled with a confused, yet intrigued restlessness when you pushed on him so you could flip over.

"Mm, yeah, yeah- That's so-o fucking hot!!" Bokuto whined.

He let you take the lead because he loved seeing your confidence shine through. It was beyond sexy watching you own it and put your ass in the air for him.

"Oh, f-uck," He moaned, breathless as he sunk into you.

You squeezed around him when he landed a hard slap on your soft, supple skin.

Yeah, this was all you needed. Next time you were feeling down, this perfect man could just fuck the insecurity out of you.

You settled into a deep stretch with a nice arch for him and felt a calloused hand pressing into your lower back to keep you still.

He certainly hated wasting time.

At this point you leaned into it, crying whiny curses into the pillow beneath you while he fucked you hard.

His heart skipped a few beat when you cried, uneven at each thrust, "Feel s-o good, Bokuto"

His nails dug hard into your ass, his breath getting choppier, voice raspy when he told you, "Been waitin' so long."

He laughed, barely swallowing his own whine at the threat of needing to cum so bad.

"You'll get this- h-ah," He winced, having to stall a moment when you clenched around him, "Nex-t 'ime you wanna act all fuckin' shy..."

Your climax was hard and fast, rendering you a bit lightheaded as he pounded his last few strokes out and finished all over your ass.

Everything was hot and hazy when he rolled onto his back next to you. You slid so you were laying onto your tummy.

His big, goofy grin was a bit cloudy in your vision: "One more?"

requests: open

masterlist

[norrisleclercf1]

imagine being like charles’ assistant so you see max and like at an after party charles invited you to some guy starts flirting and eventually touching you and then…

furious mad max tells the guy “touch her and ill kill you” 🥺

im just a little (literally im short asf) girl and need to be protected

A/N: Hehehehehe

"Pretty pretty please," Charles whines, jutting out his bottom lip as he leans ontop of you. Charles has been your friend for years, and now your assistant helping him with his crazy schedule. "Charles, I really don't want to go." You whisper, curling in on yourself a tiny bit.

"Please come, you'll have fun. Besides the others will be there as well. So you'll know others." Charles smiles playing with your hair, knowing how much you liked a certain Dutch driver. "Will, um will Max," You blush, twiddling with your pen.

"Ugh," Charles fakes gags and rests his chin on the top of your head. "Yes, he'll be there." Charles grumbles and watches as Max walks past where you two stand. Charles can see Max's eyes scan the crowd and settle on you. A small smile graces his lips but as his eyes move upward his smile leaves as he glares at how close you and Charles stand.

Charles giggles and sticks his tongue out, knowing how much Max hated seeing you two close. Max's jaw tightens but he walks off, and Charles smirks, cuddling closer to you. "Party is late, come when you can." Charles pulls away and kisses your cheek which has you blushing.

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

Stupid.

Wearing black ripped jeans and dark navy-blue shirt you knock on the door which someone rips open. You don't recognize the person and hate that some stranger is opening up Charles's door. Walking in you take in the sight of strangers and friends drinking. Going deeper into the party, you see Charles flirting with his girlfriend whose laughing and you see Pierre pouring drinks.

Daniel and Carlos playing some drinking game while Lando stands at the DJ booth. Lando notices you and waves brightly before going back to his work. Going up to the bar you tap Pierre on the shoulder. The French men turns and laughs, happily gathering you in his arms.

In another world, you'd have fallen for Pierre. A sweet older man who made you laugh and made you feel safe. "Want something to drink, cherry blossom?" You giggle at the silly nickname. But the first time you two meet was in Japan under the cherry blossoms. You thought they were gorgeous, but your nose said otherwise and sneezed through him saying hello.

"Just a coke, please Pear?" Pierre nods and grabs a cold unopened can and watches you open it. "Don't sit it down, while we're here you can be safe, but still." He urges and you nod your head. "Yes sir," You giggle, and Pierre chuckles and you walk off. "Silly girl," Pierre mumbles and goes back to bartending.

The hours tick by and you don't see Max, losing hope. "Hey," "Max?" You turn around happy, but your smile slips when you see a total stranger smiling down at you. "Oh, sorry. Thought you were someone else," You whisper and stand smiling at the stranger. "Well, I can always pretend to be that someone else." The guy leans in close.

Stepping back you hit a wall and chuckle shyly. "No, you're not him." You start to play with your fingers, trying to get away from him. The man leans in chuckling. "Oh, come now." You squeeze your eyes. You wait for him to touch you but instead you feel a warm body, one that makes you feel safe step in front of you.

"Touch her, and I'll rip your fucking throat out," Opening your eyes you see the broad back of Max. "Max," Sighing you rest your forehead on his back, even going as far as to wrap your arms around his waist. "Hey, she's mine." The guy bites but Max scuffs and shoves him backwards.

Moving he pulls you to his front and checks you over. "Stay here, baby." Max turns, the anger pure and raw as he steps forward. The guy stumbles back and runs away as Max turns back to you. "Come on, you're coming home." Max doesn't take no for an answer as he pulls you out of the party. You turn and see Charles and Pierre giggling and giving you thumbs up.

"Why?" You ask and Max chuckles you. "SO we can go on a date." He grumbles looking shy. "Okay," You giggle so happy to have Max.

[iceman-soup]

masc!reader x roach

Fuck's sake, you're thinking, laying in bed, wide awake and somehow still feeling like you have done all day - ready to fall asleep at the first opportunity. And now it's here, the room in darkness aside from the moonlight through the open blinds just the way you like it, and yet your exhausted body refuses to shut off. Typical.

If it weren't for how damn quickly your lips got cracked and dry, you'd be breathing through your mouth. Thankfully, you're not forced to do so quite yet - although the way your stuffy nose is sounding at every inhale, you might be soon, and that would be the equivalent of admitting defeat. So far, you'd been ignoring your earache, headache, every ache you had; you'd put aside how your eyes hurt and your legs and arms were tired from more than just training exercises with the rookies.

Now, though, you couldn't quite dismiss it, and it was catching up to you. Damn fast. Tossing and turning in the too-warm blankets (despite it being 2°C in the barracks, due to the inconveniently-timed broken heating), you let out a frustrated sigh, pulling on your comfy military socks and a hoodie and padding out from your tiny room, shoulders hunched against the chill.

Trodding through the corridors, wishing you'd bothered to put on shoes, you soon found yourself in the mess hall, quiet and dark and empty. You hated how eerie it was at night, but did appreciate the little coffee and tea machines at the sides, however cheap they tasted. Grabbing a chipped mug and pressing the breakfast tea option, you let your tired head fall to your chest, closing your eyes and swaying a little where you stand.

As the tea finishes making itself, you pick up the mug, grateful for its warmth, and sit yourself down at a nearby table, blowing your nose with a scratchy napkin but glad it was there anyway. More mulling over the tea than drinking it, you lay your head down, foggy mind drifting from thought to thought and not noticing the other man enter the mess hall.

A gentle tap on the shoulder jolts you upright, and you realise how you're sitting in almost complete darkness as your eyes adjust to make out the figure of Roach standing in front of you. He's wearing a set of matching pyjamas - one of those soft, chequered ones with a button-up shirt and drawstring trousers tied in a floppy bow - and fluffy socks, and is missing his usual helmet, goggles and gloves. Which you suppose is expected seeing as it's probably early hours of the morning. That being said, he's got on a smaller version of his normal mask, covering only the bottom half of his face.

"Are you okay?" he asks, tapping his fingers to his chest then doing a double thumbs-up to sign it. You smile tiredly, trying to be polite and say you're fine but your voice is raspy and painful when you speak. Roach tilts his head slightly at you, then points at the tea and signs for you to drink it. Too ill to argue, you do as he says and watch as he picks up your now-empty mug, putting it to the side apparently for someone else to clean up, then holding his hand out expectantly.

"What're'y' doing?" you mumble, taking his hand and entwining your fingers as you stand up, leaning into his body almost instinctively. He tries to sign something, but with only one hand free and your groggy brain, the message doesn't really get across. You follow him blindly anyway, not really caring so long as you can nab his warmth for as long as possible.

He leads you along the corridors of the barracks to a room that definitely isn't your own, going by the completely different layout and the fact that there's a knocked out Lieutenant in one of the bunks. You don't bother to question it when you're bundled into the bed opposite and followed by Roach, who wraps the seemingly infinite blankets around the both of you and presses a firm kiss to your forehead through his mask, despite the fact you're not at all dating or even close to this being normal.

He doesn't give you time to argue (not that you have the brain power to anyway), instead pushing you to lie down and quickly cuddling into your side, resting his head on your shoulder and tracing absent-minded patterns into your chest. You curl your arms around him, letting your mind catch up.

"Did you just kidnap me to snuggle with?" you process after a moment, glancing down to see him nod. "You share a room with Ghost." Another nod. "And you couldn't've gone the three metres over to his bed?" Roach hesitates; thinks. Then shakes his head stubbornly, legs tangling with yours.

Maybe that scratchy napkin was just brilliant, but you're certainly not feeling as ill and uncomfortable as before when you finally drift off to sleep, the Sergeant in your arms as your own little personal weighted warming blanket.

[specialagentlokitty]

Master chief x reader - look after you

Hi, not sure if you wanted more Master Chief request now or not since your request are still closed. So feel free not to write this if they are closed. But what about John x reader with this prompt “It tastes like…. You tried…. I’ll eat it. It’s a good attempt. Really.” Love your writing❤️ - Anon 💜

John had been trying to understand his emotions, understand how to interact with people that weren’t the other Spartans, that were just ordinary humans.

That’s how he met you, a while back while on a mission with you and you were just happily talking away to him like he was one of your friends.

You had made it your own personal mission to befriend him, finding him on your breaks, or coming to see him before you had some time off.

You were teaching him normal things as well, about music, books, anything that didn’t involve military talk or training you were the one to teach him.

So you were slightly shocked when he came to you, asking to learn how to cook but you were happy to help him along the way.

He came around yours twice a week so you could show him basic things.

Today was no different, he knocked on your door at exactly 7pm.

Walking over, you opened the door you beamed brightly at John.

“Hey Chief! Come on in!”

“Thank you. You weren’t at the base today.”

You laughed a little, closing the door behind him.

“I know, I’m not feeling too great. I did call and asked Miranda to pass along the message that we had to rearrange.”

“I never received that message, I apologise if I’m intruding.”

You waved your hand dismissively, grabbing the blanket from the back of your chair and you swung it back around your shoulders.

Walking over to the couch you sat back down, looking up at him.

“May I?”

You nodded, and he sat down.

“What’s wrong with you?”

“I mean do you want a list or a summary?”

John furrowed his brows a little in confusion, titling his head to the right just a tiny bit, his tell that he was confused about something.

“Is that you using sarcasm or is it something bad?”

You smiled softly.

“I’m joking with you. I have some illness, medics aren’t sure what yet they’re running tests. I’m not supposed to have visitors, but because you’re a Spartan it’s fine that you’re here.”

John nodded slightly.

“I will be back in a moment.”

John got up, walking into the kitchen and you looked at him.

You rested your head on the back of the couch, closing your eyes as you waited for him to come back in.

John was in there for maybe half an hour and when he came back you were fast asleep on the couch, sitting at an awkward angle.

Walking over, he crouched down next to you, resting his arms on his knees as he thought for a moment.

He slowly reached out then hesitated, pulling his hand back.

He wasn’t sure if he was supposed to wake you up, but he didn’t know if you had eaten today, or when the last time you ate was.

Getting up, he walked into the kitchen, checking your sink, then cupboards.

He knew you had a habit of not washing your dishes straight away after eating, and if you were sink he wasn’t sure that you would even have the energy to stand there and wash them.

But there was no sign of you having made any food recently.

John went through your food, pulling a few things out and he walked back over to you.

He placed his hand on your forehead, making sure you didn’t have a fever, and he carefully picked you up.

You grumbled a little bit.

“I don’t like heights…” you mumbled.

“You’re a pilot.”

“Shush…”

You tried to turn over, and he quickly readjusted his grip on you so you didn’t roll yourself out of his arms.

Once you stopped moving he carried on walking, hesitating outside of your room before he pushed the door open with his foot.

He walked in, carefully holding you in one arm and he set moved your quilt, laying you down on the bed before he covered you up and left the room.

Making your way back into the kitchen he looked at the food he was going to make for you.

It was the first thing you taught him to cook, it was something simple, but you explained to him how much you loved it.

So he got to work preparing the food, stopping halfway through to check on you before he finished.

He put it in the oven to cook, and made his way back to your room, bringing a chair so he could sit next to your bed.

“John…?”

He sat up, setting the book he found down.

“Yes? What is it?”

You coughed a little bit.

“In my bathroom… I have some medicine… can you bring it…”

“Of course I can.”

He went to get the medicine while you sat up in bed, running a hand over your forehead.

John walked back carrying a few things and a glass of water.

“I wasn’t sure which one you wanted.”

He set them all next to you, and you looked through them all, picking out the pain killer patches, and you put one on your forehead, then the tablets, taking a couple of them and downing some water.

You set everything aside, and you leant back against the wall.

“I think it’s the flu…”

“Is it deadly?”

You laughed a little bit.

“No John, it’s not deadly. It just means I have to rest, that’s all.”

He nodded, sitting back down in his chair.

“Do you need me to call for help?”

“No, no it’s alright. You don’t have to stay though, you can go.”

“I am making you something to eat.”

You smiled softly.

“You are?”

“Yes. You are sick I believe you haven’t eaten yet. In order for you to get better I was informed that you need sleep, medication, and food. With your permission I will stay here and ensure you don’t get worse.”

“Yeah, yeah that would be nice. Thanks.”

He nodded his head, standing up.

“I will go check on your food.”

You nodded, watching him leave.

After a few minutes of water, you got up to follow him, blanket around your shoulders as you walked to the kitchen.

You leant over the counter and you smiled as you saw what he made.

“You made pasta bake.”

“Yes, is that okay?”

“That’s perfect John.”

He gestured to the couch, and you walked over, taking a seat.

He put some on a plate for you and walked over, handing you the plate, and he sat down on the other couch.

“Did I do it right?”

You picked up the fork, taking a bite.

It tasted slightly burnt, a little salty, and the pasta was somehow undercooked.

You looked up at him.

“It tastes like…. You tried…. I’ll eat it. It’s a good attempt. Really.”

“I’m sorry, I will try again.”

He went to take your plate away and you swatted his hand away lightly.

“No, you worked really hard to make this. I’m eating it.”

“But it’s wrong.”

You smiled softly.

“It’s your first attempt at cooking alone John, you’re still learning. And you made this for me to help me get better.”

He slowly sat back down.

“If you don’t like it there is no need to eat it.”

“I’m eating, hush.”

You beamed a little at him, going back to eating your food.

John felt a small sense of achievement, it was something he hadn’t done before, he did it wrong but you were still going to eat it for him.

You ate everything, and you set your plate on the table.

Getting up, you walked over, sitting next to him and you rested your head on his arm, closing your eyes.

“Are you okay? Did my cooking cooking make you unwell.”

You reached out, patting his hands a few times.

“No… I’m just really tired…”

John nodded his head, staying perfectly still so he didn’t disturb you as you fell back asleep.

He pulled your blanket up to cover your shoulders, and leant back a little, carefully moving your body so you weren’t sleeping at an angle.

He didn’t have any missions to focus on, you had done so much to help him that he wanted to do something to help you, he didn’t like seeing you so tried and sick.

He just had to figure out how to help you, even if it meant sitting there with you asleep against his side.

Your skin felt cold, and he wrapped an arm around you, making sure the blanket was wrapped tightly around you to keep you warm.

You coughed a little bit, and he shot up, carefully laying you back against the couch as he got a glass of water and woke up.

“Drink.”

He passed it to you, letting you you drink from the glass before he set it aside.

You laid down, and he grabbed your quilt to cover you up before sitting in front of the couch and you tapped his shoulder a few times.

“I’m really proud of you…”

John didn’t say anything, but he did reach up to place his hand on your for a second before he moved it away

[bratshaws]

goodness gracious 23. brb x oc

(ill just repeat gifs guys)

a/n: I GOT MY NEW KEYBOARD AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA yes YESSS yes ok yes. we're back in business guys. Also I kinda worked a little bit on Rooster's past??? Just tiny things really.

check out the fic's playlist made by the sweet @wiipes !!

pairing: plus size!oc x rooster

warnings: fluff ,Rooster being horny (do i even need to tag this anymore) and supportive.

chapters:

1/2/3/4/5/6/7/8/9/10/11/12/13/14/15/16/17/18/19/20/21/22

(pls let me know if you want to be added to the taglist!!)

taglist: @mirandastuckinthe80s @roosterschanelslut @wiipes @lcahwriter @shrimping-for-all @gretagerwigsmuse @frenchtoastix

@lizzie-rdj @fanboyluvr @atarmychick007 @comebacktoearthpls

@peachiicherries @mak-32 @lizziespidiepridie @roosterswifey @ollyoxenfrees @piceous21

-

 “He said yes?”

“He did!” Beatrice says with the phone on her ear, holding it up with a shoulder as she folds her laundry, “Didn’t even hesitate.”

“Huh…I mean, you did tell him he’d be like fresh blood on shark infested waters right?”

“Yes, Leo, I made that very clear.”

Her brother on the other end ‘huh’ed again, the sound of kitchen utensils being washed in the background, “Brave man. I get freaked out sometimes and it's my family too…did you just call me to tell me that?”

“Kind of,” Beatrice changes ears while propping the laundry basket to her hip bone, “I just wanted to ask you when we get there, to let him in on some info, who to not talk to.”

“Like the Bitch Trio?” while she wouldn’t call her cousins that, Leonardo wouldn’t be wrong, “Those would be the first ones he should avoid.”

“I don’t get why people keep inviting them.” the brunette huffed, walking up the steps to the loft area, Jolene following her right behind, just waiting for her to drop the laundry basket so she could hop inside and enjoy the warmth.

“‘Cause they are family, which is some bullshit. Everyone knows they love starting drama. Especially Melinda,” he makes a disgusted noise, “I swear, aunt Martha is just too nice, I would never invite them to any celebration.”

Beatrice chuckles, kneeling to the floor with the basket by her side, giving Jolene a sigh when she hopped inside immediately. Instead of pushing her off, she just scratched the top of her head as the pittie got comfortable, “I wouldn’t either. Is there anyone else you think he should be careful with?”

“Oh, oof, man…I think everyone pretty much is a huge warning sign before they meet him for real. I do think uncle Roberto will like him, maybe even uncle Elia.”

“Uncle Eli is coming??? He never joins celebrations.”

“The wedding thank you gifts are expensive wine bottles, Little Bitty. Do you really think he wouldn’t come?”

“You got a point.” she says, gently tapping Jolene’s butt so she could move and Beatrice finally could put her clothes in the armoire “Do you think he’s going to try and sing on stage, pushing the actual singer off?”

“Oh absolutely, he is the reincarnation of Louis Prima after all. With aunt Sonia following behind as his backing vocals.”

“Jesus.”

Leonardo laughs on the other end, shutting the water off when he’s done washing dishes, “But, I dunno, I think it’ll be fine. Him saying yes is already a good sign.” his sister’s less than enthusiastic noise doesn’t stop him from speaking, “Hey, you guys will sit with us, I’ll help him out the best I can. Plus, having Bibi there will help with distraction.”

Beatrice smiles looking down at her folded laundry inside the drawer, “I guess you are right.”

“She’s very excited to be the flower girl,” he begins, “But even more because she thinks the vineyard will have frogs that she’ll try to bring home and scare the fuck out of Cyn.”

Beatrice chuckles softly, remembering the time Bianca grabbed a bunch of frogs and put them inside the little bag she was holding. When asked by her mother what it was, she just opened and Cynthia shrieked in fear, running away to hide inside the house while Leonardo had to tell Bibi to let the frogs go. There was a knock to her front door that made Jolene scramble to her paws, whining all the way down since she knew who’d be, “Leo, I gotta go. I’ll talk to you before the wedding, okay?”

“Sure Little Bitty, just a tip, you should come by during lunchtime ‘cause everyone will be too busy to notice any car coming to the hotel.”

“Oh,you are right, thanks Leo.”

“No problem, talk to you later.”

She finished the call, rushing down the staircase with her bare feet hitting the steps loudly, the smile already on her face before she even reached the door. Jolene’s whole body shook with excitement when Beatrice opened it, the pittie immediately greeted Rooster by jumping around him and standing on her hind legs with her paws on his stomach. Beatrice allowed him to pet the dog first, knowing Jolene would neve leave him be if he didn’t, then leaned up to kiss his lips when he stood to his full height. “Hey,” she whispers, giving him another peck, “How was the gym?”

“Fine.” he smiles, fixing the duffel bag on his shoulder as he enters, Beatrice closing the door behind him, “By the way, I found out your friend Evelyn’s last name.”

“Oh?”

“Yep, Simpson.” 

“Oh, oh yeah.” she smiles, oblivious as to why he seemed so elated on telling her that, “How did you find out?”

Rooster chuckles, “Well, yesterday Hangman tried to score up with her again right?” she nods, signaling she was still listening, “So he walks up with her through the base until he sees Cyclone, who’s a vice admiral and whose name is what? Beau Simpson. I wasn’t there but Nat was and she said that Hangman’s face lost all color when he figured out who her father really was.”

Beatrice blinked, walking into her kitchen with him following, “Oh…did that scare him off?” 

“I mean, he looked terrified according to Nat.” she hums, which in turn makes him look at her, “What?”

“Well…Evelyn’s main issue with Navy guys is how they’d always freak out once they met her dad, running away.” Maybe it was the hopeless romantic in her, but she felt the two of them could work out, “I guess, I don’t know, maybe if Jake really is interested in her he could show he had no issues with her father being who he is.”

Rooster blinks in silence, then a smile slowly spreads over his lips, “You are so cute.” he says, stepping closer to kiss her,  “But I’ve never seen Jake with a girl for more than twenty four hours, babe.”

“Maybe Evelyn is the change he needed.” she says it back, wrapping her arms around his neck while he does the same to her waist, he showered at the gym before coming so he smelled so fresh, “Would it be so weird?”

“Yes. It’s Hangman, Bea.” Rooster smiles at her little pout, rubbing the pad of his thumb on the plump flesh of her lower lip, “You are very sweet, but I don’t see Jake changing how he is just because of a woman.”

“I still think there’s a chance.” she murmurs, “If Jake wants to make the effort.” 

He sighs deeply, making a face, “I don’t think it’s possible but I also don’t want to talk about Hangman anymore,” he cups the back of her legs to pick her up and set her on the counter, pressing a trail of kisses down her jaw to her neck, “It’s weird when I’m trying to kiss you.”

She giggles, leaning her head back to give him more space, her hand dragging up from his nape to the top of his hair, nails dragging on his scalp. He moans quietly, pressing his hips to hers while her legs wrap around his waist, “Brad…” he hums, keeping his teeth and tongue on her skin, “I thought you said you were coming with me to buy Halloween candy for tonight. Remember?”

The pilot groaned on her neck, dropping his forehead against the skin, “I did, didn’t I?”

“If you don’t want to–”

“No I do, it’s just,” he inhales her lavender scent with a happy groan “You are just so sexy I can’t think straight.” he pulls back from her neck, after pressing a kiss right under her jaw for good measure, tugging her out of the counter.

She just blushed even harder, laughing softly at him, “We’ll be back before you know it.” she pecks his pouting lips, “I promise I’ll make it up to you.”

-

“I haven’t eaten Halloween candy in years.” Rooster says, leaning his elbows on the back of the shopping cart while Beatrice was picking colorful bags of soft chewy candy, in her hands. Bradley followed the bag being dropped inside the cart with his eyes, picking it up for him to check what it was.

“Oh I used to sometimes.” she giggles, “Bibi liked to share hers with me. So I always had a little bit to myself.” Beatrice crouches down the aisle to pick another bag of candy, this one shaped like witches hats “Halloween was always a nice holiday for me.”

“Yeah?” he asks, not being able to keep the smile on his face when she nods, the movement shaking the french braid behind her head, “Was it your favorite holiday?”

“Christmas is my favorite, with Halloween in close second.” she walks forward a bit more, with Rooster following close behind, grabbing a few Nerds packets to drop inside too, “I loved dressing up for Halloween, it was always so fun.”

He smiles, pushing himself off the cart to step close to her, one of his hands touching her jeans clad hip as she struggled to reach a bag of cherry Twizzlers, easily grabbing a good amount in his hand, “I loved getting treats.” he says it while pressing a kiss to the edge of her jaw, making Beatrice smile and kiss him back quickly.

“We can’t make out in the middle of an aisle, Roos.” she whispers but still presses her lips to his once more.

“Why not? It’s not like I’ll…push you into a dark corner and just make sure you get out of breath just by kissing.”

“Roos!” the brunette giggles, pressing a hand on the middle of his chest, just to hold him back. “You’ll have to be patient.” he sighs, straightening himself before returning to his earlier position by the red handle, his lips pursing into a little pout. She smiles sweetly, going back on her quest to get as many candy types as she could, tossing a few Halloween toys in the cart as well. 

His smile however, only got bigger when he noticed how excited she got while getting treats for the trick or treaters. When he got to her place earlier that morning, he saw the front of her house adorned with several spooky decorations, including a pair of fake pumpkins that glowed from the inside and a ghost made out of fabric and a wire stabbed in between her flower pots. She did tell him this would be her first time getting trick or treaters at her house and she wanted them to have a good time.

Hence why she was so pumped on getting a variation of sweets, of toys and things she knew kids would love. While looking down to the slowly filling cart, Rooster couldn’t help but ask her “What’s your favorite?” she turns her head to him in question and he nods to the candy bags inside the cart “Halloween candy.”

“Oh!” Beatrice purses her lips, “I don’t know, I always liked Twizzlers, the cherry ones…and gummy bears and Butterfingers. What about you?”

Rooster hums, looking around the aisle to wrack his memory “I don’t know,anything with chocolate I guess.” he chuckles, “But I do like Butterfingers too…and Sour Patch Kids. I loved those, I liked beheading them.”

That makes a laugh sputter out of Beatrice’s mouth, dropping a few more bags inside the cart, “Weirdly cannibalistic but very cute.” she smiles, “I used to do the same too.” she looks down at her phone, peeking her tongue out while checking her notes, “I think we got pretty much everything…I already have the baggies at home, so!I think we are done here.”

“I think the kids will love it.”

“Yeah?”

“Hell yeah, look.” he spreads his arms over the cart, grinning up at her “If I was a kid getting treats, I’d go insane for all of this.” her smile makes his heart flip with happiness, her cheeks dusting with red over his compliments. God he loved it, he loved her…he still had to find a good time to say it, which he wanted badly, but it had to be the perfect time. Nothing to interrupt them, no one to ask them questions, just two people confessing to one another.

Yes, the perfect time. He hoped it would happen soon.

Beatrice slid her phone back into her back pocket, “I hope so…” she walks next to him as he leads the cart for her, “I can’t wait to see their costumes. Some kids can be very creative!Or…their parents, in that case.”

“I don’t even know what kids watch these days.” he mutters, “Is Muppet Babies still a thing?”

“I don’t think so.” she chuckles, “They’ll probably dress up as the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles or something, they never go out of style.”

Rooster keeps her in his peripheral, her smaller hand covering his own when he moves the cart, so he decides to push it one handed to interlace their fingers together. They approach the cashier, who looks bored out of her mind with a bat fascinator on top of her head, who rings everything quickly, her monotone voice wishing them a ‘Happy Halloween’ before they leave the market.

Beatrice was so busy putting everything inside Rooster’s Bronco, that she did not notice the pair of eyes looking her way…but Rooster did. He looked over his shoulder to where a guy, a bit shorter than him, watched the two from a Chevrolet red pickup truck. He could only describe his appearance as an off brand Vanilla Ice with longer hair. While he was wearing his sunglasses, his head was turned right in the guy’s direction, so he was sure the dude could notice he was looking.

The guy moved his eyes from Beatrice to Rooster when the pilot stepped right in his line of sight. Clearly the guy wasn’t expecting him to move, nor the not so subtle nod of ‘what are you looking at’, he sent his way. He followed the guy with his eyes narrowed, watching him scramble to get into his truck and speed out of the parking lot.

Rooster stood behind Beatrice for a little while longer, just until she announced she was done. His annoyed façade dropped, turning into a smile when he looked down at her, “Let’s go then.” He didn't feel like sharing the info about the guy yet, he didn’t want to scare her with the news of a creep looking her way. 

“Ohh,I’m so excited!” she said happily, shimmying a bit on her seat, his anger fading completely once he got in, “I hope this is enough, do you think it’s enough?”

Bradley laughs when he turns the car on, “I think it’s more than enough. You’ll make a lot of kids happy tonight.” her little smile only got bigger and brighter, clasping her hands together on her lap. “Are you dressing up too?”

“Oh, no, I’ll just wear black and call it a modern witch.” she giggles, “My costume is set for tomorrow.”

His ears perk up with interest, then his brain makes the connection “Penny’s Halloween Party?” she nods, unaware of how his jaw moved with a question “I didn’t know you were dressing up.”

“Oh,I mean, Penny said we could if we wanted to.” she shrugs, leaning on a hand while looking outside the window. He was quiet for a while, making Beatrice blink in his direction, finally noticing he wanted to know what she was going to dress up as “Oh! Julie Newmar’s Catwoman.”

It took every fiber in his body to not swerve in the road, choosing to instead clench the steering wheel tight enough to make the cover creak under his grasp. When he was a prepubescent boy, he discovered the Batman series by random. He couldn’t remember if there were vhs tapes or some channel was running the show again just for shits and giggles. But what he did remember was his crush on every single version of Catwoman from that show, but especially Julie Newmar.

He was just a young boy whose interest in girls hadn’t developed fully yet, he knew he liked them but not enough to be gobsmacked by one of them. Then he saw Julie Newmar’s Catwoman and his brain exploded, discovering that he was really into brunettes. But of course, it wasn’t only Beatrice’s hair color that attracted him to her, it was much more than that but it genuinely made him pay more attention the first time.

So to hear that her, his very gorgeous girlfriend, was going to dress up as one of his childhood crushes was doing something to him.  He cleared his throat, accommodating himself on the seat when a sudden heat came from below towards his neck, definitely flushing the tanned skin, “That’s nice.” he croaked out, “I mean, you’ll look nice.”

Bea smiled, “Thank you, I’ve always wanted to dress as her and Ev knew someone who could make her outfit with my measurements.” he let out a shaky breath just imagining her with that skin tight outfit, shaking his head to refocus, “I don’t know what Shells will be dressed as, I know Penny will be Wonder Woman.”

“That’s nice.” he had to remember he was driving a car, in the middle of a road in the afternoon, with candy that could definitely melt if he chose to park the car somewhere and just figure out how flexible he could be in the front seat. “Do we have to dress up too?”

She shrugs, pursing her lips “If you want. I know some patrons will dress up…and Phoenix said she will too.” he arches his eyebrow at her “She said she’ll dress up as a cactus.”

He was about to say something, but knowing how Phoenix humor could be sometimes he chose to just keep his mouth shut. “I have an idea for a costume.” she tilts her head towards him, waiting for his reply “A strapping pilot who likes to wear Hawaiian shirts.” Beatrice rolls her eyes laughing, which in turn makes him laugh as well, parking the Bronco in front of her house “No, but seriously, I don’t have any idea what I could dress up as.”

“Well,” she unbuckled her seatbelt, pursing her lips, “You could be…hmmm…oh you’d be a great Gomez. You know, from the Addams Family?” 

“I do look great in a suit.” he chuckles, stepping out from the car to open the passenger seat for her, helping her carry the bags “But I couldn’t be a Gomez without my Morticia, and you are dressing up as Catwoman.” her cheeks flushed under his words, “So maybe a second option is needed.”

Beatrice held two bags up, allowing Rooster to close the passenger door and lock the blue Bronco as she got closer to her door. She gasped, turning to him with a smile, “I know! Magnum P.I! He has a mustache and likes Hawaiian shirts too.”

Rooster couldn’t help but chuckle, “I mean, you have a point.” He waits until she enters the house, Jolene greeting both of them with leaps of joy, running between their legs, bringing her sock monkey as a welcome gift. Beatrice rushes to the kitchen where the colorful Halloween baggies were waiting to be filled inside a large pumpkin bucket, “I could do that.”

“You’d look really good too,” she throws over her shoulder, dropping the bags on her kitchen table -which she just got!! -, the different types of sweets spilling over the dark colored wood “You’d just have to use your shirt, no top underneath.”

With her giving her back to him, Rooster smiled, approaching her from behind to wrap his arms around her waist. “You just want to make it easier for you to take it off,” he kisses right below her earlobe “Which is completely fine by me.”

“Roos…” she bites back her smile “I have to set everything ready and you said you’d help me…” her pilot groans, letting her go with a heavy sigh but he’s smiling, removing his sunglasses to slip them on the collar of his tee, taking a seat next to hers. She was so happy, so excited to do this he had no other feelings but pure adoration towards her.

Every baggie had candies and a gift, a tiny notepad with crayons. She didn’t want to give the kids something that’d be too locked within a gender and pretty much every child liked to draw so it’d be a good gift! While they were busy, she was a lot faster than he was too, he couldn’t help but let his eyes wander to her backyard where he knew she was painting from the time he was deployed. “So…did you finish your picture?” she looks up from tying the baggie with a bright green bow “You said you were painting something when I was gone. Did you finish it?”

Beatrice slows her movements, her cheeks reddening “Oh…um…not yet.” she doesn’t meet his eyes, choosing to focus on filling the baggies instead. His eyes squint humorously, so she was hiding something from him, he was too used to her mannerisms for her to hide stuff like that.

“Do you still want to show it to me once it’s done?”

“Yes.”

“You sure?” his smile turns boyish, the idea it was probably something of a surprise for him making him feel giddy.

“Yes.” she repeats, biting back her smile “You just gotta be patient..and we have to finish this now so we can’t focus on anything else.” he laughs but nods, offering a shrug in her direction as they continue fixing the baggies. 

-

She peeks through the curtains again, the pumpkin bucket on her hand as she looks outside “There’s no one yet.” she murmurs, “What if they don’t come here,Roos? I don’t even know if this neighborhood has a lot of kids.”

He steps behind her, nudging his head on her shoulder to look out just like she did “They’ll be here, gorgeous.” she makes a sad noise, her crestfallen expression when she looks down at the bucket tugs at his heart “Hey, hey, they’ll be here. Okay? Give it a few more minutes.”

Beatrice gives him a look, the dark kohl around her eyes making them appear even bigger “Okay…” she couldn’t hold back the smile when he kisses her cheek, “Thank you.”

“You are welcome, pretty girl.” he chuckles, “You sure you don’t want my help?”

“No, I’ll be fine. Just go ahead and relax, you are my guest after all.” she smiles, a soft laugh tittering out of her mouth when he presses a noisy kiss to her cheek again, walking back to the couch where Jolene remained. Beatrice couldn’t help but sigh happily, remembering that after she told him about the wedding, he suggested he could spend the few days before it happened if it helped her feel calmer. So he’d packed up his duffel bag with enough clothes and hygienic products for the time being, choosing to get the suit for the wedding early Friday.

It was comforting having him there, just lounging on her couch wearing his gray sweatpants and no shirt. It was…very nice to know he was in her space. Beatrice’s line of thoughts broke when she started to hear the sudden noise of voices approaching, “Oh my god, oh my god!!” she peeks through the curtain again, seeing a group of kids wander by “Roos!!They are here!”

Rooster chuckles, looking back at Beatrice who was bouncing on the spot with how happy she was, watching her open the door and greet the kids with as much joy as the kids had. He heard the kids gasp and thank her when she gave them the heavy baggies filled with candy, while his eyes remained on the tv, watching Kandy Muse and Tamisha Iman argue during Untucked.

Beatrice remained close to the window, while Bradley and Jolene stayed on the couch, watching Drag Race together. The pitbull’s large head resting on top of his thigh, her eyes blinking sleepily when he petted her head repeatedly, before she succumbed to sleep. He was so focused on watching Drag Race - it was a great show and he already shared his own thoughts with the others, especially Nat who was an avid watcher as well - he didn’t see the time go by.

His girlfriend was just so happy being able to give the kids a good Halloween night she didn’t even move too much from her spot by the window. She did however, blink in surprise when a black Toro pick up truck rolled to a park right outside, a large figure walking out of the driver’s seat to open the passenger door, where a tiny person rushed out.

She could only blink in surprise, seeing the large figure wobble closer, then the doorbell rang. When she opened her eyes immediately focused on her brother looking downright miserable,”Leo?” he purses his lips, then nods “You…uh…what are you doing here?”

“Bibi wanted to see you.” he gestures to the little girl, which makes Bea drop her gaze as well. Bianca was wearing blue overalls, a red shirt and a large red cap with a big M on it with her blonde hair pulled back into it. Not to mention, the paper mustache glued above her niece’s lips. 

“Oh…I–”

“Its-a me! Mario!!” Bibi shouts with gusto, pulling out a tiny stuffed mushroom, playing that she bit into it, then bouncing as if she got bigger - much like Mario did.

Realization hits Beatrice, her eyes slowly dragging back to her older brother and his costume. It was a full green onesie with a sewn on head, big fake eyes staring down at her “Oh my God…you–”

“I am Yoshi, obviously.” 

“No!” Bianca looked back at her father, “You need to make Yoshi sounds!!”

Leonardo sighed heavily, licking his lips and saying the word ‘mlem’ in the highest tone his voice could get. Beatrice sputters, biting her lips to prevent her grin, “Yes, yes laugh all you want.”

“I-I’m s-sorry..” she tried so hard to hold back her laughter, but only managed to cackle even harder, “I-I, you–” she snickers, covering her mouth with a hand while her brother looks at her unamused, “Oh…oh my g-god…I-I’m so sorry. You look-” a quiet snort comes out of her nose “You look gr-great.”

“Uh-huh.” Leo’s drone reply didn’t help the situation, “Bibi, ask auntie.”

Bianca blinked, holding up her pumpkin bucket, “TRICK OR TREAT!! YAHOO!” Beatrice, after wiping her eyes from laughing so hard, dropped a few of the baggies inside her niece’s bucket, smiling down at her when the blonde girl gasped, whispering a ‘cool’ when she opened the baggie already.

Rooster, hearing the commotion - and Bea’s laughter- decided to put on a shirt before he walked closer to the open door. His eyes widened briefly as he took in Leonardo’s costume, “Hey…Yoshi?” Leonardo nods, unamused, gesturing to his daughter who was sniffing a crayon, dressed as the Italian plumber. “Oh hey, nice costume.”

Bianca looks up, her paper mustache crooked as she gasps, “PRINCE ROOSTER!” she shouts, standing to her feet with her tiny arms up in the air “You are here!! Hi!” 

“Hey, Bianca,” he smiles, “Nice mustache, you are going to make me jealous. It looks much better than mine.”

Bianca’s eyes widened, “I’m Mario!” she grins her few toothed smile, “I’m going to get all the candy and defeat Bowser!!” 

“You do that, I believe in you.” Rooster replies, enjoying how the little girl growled out in triumph, her tiny fists in the air. He didn’t even notice his arm was around Beatrice’s waist, force of habit really, but he did see Leonardo’s eyes move to it immediately. He didn’t want to remove it, even if Leonardo’s eyes zeroed on it the moment he noticed it. But Bea’s brother just gave him a small smile and an even smaller nod - which with him dressed as Yoshi was downright hilarious- before grabbing his daughter’s fist.

“Come on BIbi, time to go home.”

Bianca frowned, looking back at her aunt and Rooster, “But I wanna stay! Can’t we stay daddy??”

“Uh… no, cause…mom is waiting for us.”

“Mommy is asleep!”

“Mommy is waiting for us while asleep, let’s go.” he swoops down to grab the little girl in his arms, kissing her cheek “Say bye, Bibi.” the little girl pouted, but did so, before pressing her cheek to her dad’s shoulder in annoyance. 

“Bye!” Beatrice smiles, leaning onto Rooster’s chest as she watches her brother turn around to his car. The moment he does, her eyes just double in size, “Oh my god YOU HAVE A TAIL TOO???”

“SHUT UP!” Leonardo retorts, covering the plushy tail from his costume with a hand. “STOP LOOKING AT MY TAIL!” but his sister was already laughing and Rooster was trying very hard to not laugh a long, rubbing the tip of his thumb against his lips while looking away. Beatrice was still giggling when her brother got into the truck, telling Bianca to cover her ears as he dropped an ‘f’ bomb, but he was laughing just as hard. Beatrice in return, shouted she loved him as he drove off.

Her laughing diminished and she looked down at the bucket in her hands:  empty. She did it. She had her very first Halloween in her house, gave out candy by herself and saw her niece and brother! It was a great night, so great she just turned to Rooster to wrap her arms around his torso, pressing her ear to his chest to hear the heartbeat, “That was fun,” he comments and she nods, “How are you feeling?”

“Good.” her body was also finally relaxing from all the excitement “And tired…but I had fun.”

“You did, it was really nice to see.” he kisses the top of her head, pulling her back inside, “What do you say we get something to eat?” she hums positively, letting go of him to drop the bucket to the floor. But she goes back to holding him,inhaling his cologne before her eyes move back to his, lashes fluttering with the promise of something else. Rooster’s eyes drooped, his tongue wetting out his lips, “Or…you have something else in mind.”

“I did say I’d make it up to you.” she whispers, biting her lower lip while grabbing his hand to lead him upstairs, “Didn’t I?”

“Hmhm.” he mutters, letting her lead him up before he looks back to where Jolene is sprawled on the couch, “What about Jojo?”

“She’ll be asleep…but if you are worried she’ll come upstairs, I have a pet gate that I use when I have to clean up here and she can’t come over.” she says, “I keep it in the laundry room.” She just laughs when he lets go of her hand to bolt downstairs, turning the lights on in the laundry room - her dog just lifting her head then dropping without much interest - before he comes out with the pet gate.

She had never seen someone set it up so quickly, but he did, rushing back upstairs to wrap his arms around her waist. Much to her surprise, he just tossed her over his shoulder, “Rooster!” she yelps, trying to balance herself the best she could, letting out a shout when she feels his hand immediately hit her ass. “Bradley!!”

“Can’t hear you! Going to get my treat!!”

[vivaladicamillo]

DRUNK!BRANDON DICAMILLO/GN!READER

im on a roll so ima js write until i cant no more, dico brain rot has been so bad so heres a little dico drabble ;))) enjoyyyyy

WARNINGS: drunkness, alcohol mentioned ofc, dico

———————————————————

one night you were at home. You and the so called “cky crew” had been friends since highschool, u were in the same grade as jess, ryan and dico so u all js kinda bonded. U were in ur 20s now, things were different bc u guys were adults, parties, drinking, sex, it was more common and less exciting. the guys decided to go out and have a “boys night” leaving u and ur cat alone at home, watching ur favorite movie. u ended up falling asleep on the couch only to be woken up around 3:35am by a loud knock at ur door.

u get up half asleep and wobble to the door, wearing only pajamas. u open the door to find bam, ryan and a very obviously drunk dico clinging onto bam for dear life.

bam giggles “yo you gotta take bran hes fucked!”

bam was also drunk but u can tell not as much

“what…” you says groggily

“js take him hes drooling on me!!!” bam shoved him towards you like a ragdoll and he bumps into you, swaying.

bam and ryan leave, ryan driving them away and now u have a drunk dico in ur home.

“y/nnnbnn hiiii!” he slurs, he gives a big goofy smile, cheeks flushes and eyes dilated, oh yea he was FUCKED alright

“hey brandon r u ok? u need some water?” you ask looking at his face

“hmmm ill take another beer!” he says and laughs

u shake ur head and yawn “here sit down and ill get u some water.”

you walk him over to your couch, sitting him down as u walk to the kitchen.

“ayeee what r we watching??” he gasps “i know what we can watch!! u got masters of the universe recorded oh god…i wanna watch ittt.” he starts to ramble as u run a cup under the tap and fill it up

ur cat gives him the stink eye as it watches him ramble, dico looks at it and starts mocking it jokingly. as soon as u walked in and saw him meowing at ur cat u knew it was over.

“listen im gonna go set up my bed, u can sleep in there if u want, or i cant set u up on the couch, im js exhausted right now.” u chuckle ad he looks at u with that wide eyed stare he always does

“hmmmm ill take the bed!” he puts his finger up and you laugh

“ok, come on big guy lets take u to bed.” you put ur hand on his shoulder, still carrying the water as u guide him to your room. he wraps his arm around you getting really comfortable

“wow i can believe ur taking me to bed…” he smirks going to make an obvious sex joke

“yea my bed, alone.” u smile back

the two of u make it to your room and he watches u make the bed, hands in his pockets, he pulled back and got a lot quieter. you put ur stuffed animals back on your bed and turn to him

“only fit for a king!” u joke and point to the bed, he smiles

“thanks y/n, your the literal best ever, best person ever born, i gotta thank ur mom more often” he chuckles

you nod and go to walk out of the room

“actual wait i have a awkward question…..” he looked a little nervous as she slurred his words

u turn to him and waited for his answer

“wanna sleep together?” he smirked

you stopped and looked at him “what??”

“nonono not like that, i feel bad letting u out on the couch…i dont mind sharing the bed.” he scratched his neck

“u dont have a girlfriend i dont know abt thats gonna jump me for sleeping in the same bed as i right ?” u cross ur arms and smirk, u always had a tiny thing for dico but he was one of ur closest friends, so u kept it underwraps

“i pinky swear!” he holds up his pinky

“fineeee” you agree, he jumps into bed, still fully clothed in jeans and a teeshirt, he even still had hid shoes on!

“BRANDON NO GET UR SHOES OFF MY BED!”

“sorry.” he said in a high pitched voice, taking his shoes off and getting under the covers

you followed suit, getting into bed and making urself comfortable, u felt a little awkward but he was ur best friend so, it wasnt that bad. he fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow, u knew from the soft snores behind u. shifting in bed, u turn to face him, his pretty sleeping face abt a foot away from your own. u smiled, he really was cute, in his sleep he ended up cuddling u, well by cuddling lazily wrapping an arm around you and then when u try to wiggle away he got u in a bear grip

u didnt mind, u gave up struggling and gave in to sleep, cuddling into his touch as u urself fell asleep

his soft breaths being ur lullaby

god u loved him

———————————————————

HOPE U ENJOYEDDD!! new format bc i wanted this to be more of a story than headcanons, i might make something similar with all the cky guys but idk i guess we will find out :))

[siremasterlawrence]

Playing With Clark

My friend Clark Kent knocks on my door this morning with a heavy heart, you can see the sadness apparent on his face and it is so totally obvious.

I slide the door open allowing him in as he is dragging his feet into the apartment he is now stood in front of the door and I kick it close.

I take his coat hanging it up as he drops on to my couch he has no idea how fucked up my mind has become over years do to this illness.

I really am not in the mood to hear him say anything so I place a metronome on my tiny table catching his attention I flip the switch on to the light.

I watch him stare in awe taking a simple soft finger fling to the arrow as it flows back and further letting it catch his eyes going from side to side.

He can’t step following loosing himself I sit next to him keeping quiet as all of the noise seams to vanish in the midst of it as my room fades away.

Taking a hand placing it firmly onto both of his shoulders beginning to rub them ever so tenderly nothing else matters forcing his cold face.

Closer and closer he gets my right hand cup his face tightly turning his head to stare in to the constantly pulling him away all he can see is my metronome.

Our skin touches gracing mine as I kiss his chin he shivers upon impact collapsing into my body and I knew I won as I always do in these cases.

“Clark stare at the cross seeing the stylish beautiful golden shining door swinging open.”

“Just nod your head in agreement.”

“Good boi!”

“Mmmmmm”

“Walk through the door as it slams close.”

“Notice the spiraling the staircase.”

“Their are thirty steps”

“Take one at a time”

“Count with each one “

“Mwahahahahaha! Excellent “

“Washing all things in your life”

“Last step”

“Thirty!”

“This is your Master Lawrence “

“You will surrender willingly to me.”

“No questions asked”

“I am all that matters”

“I am your God”

“You will stop wasting my time”

“You will message and call me all the time “

“You are madly in love with me”

I face Clark taking full advantage moving so close to him I command him to wake up still in deep trance and he die staring mindlessly at me.

I rise up to my feet he follows me matching my every move I smirk and instructing him to undo my buttons on my shirt pulling it aside.

He does as he told to hug me tightly he start by pressing his lips onto my shoulder kissing it down to my under arms he dug both of his nose into both pits.

Taking in my scent he familiarizes himself in his new favorite sent then proceeds to lick them slowly taking in every last taste he could.

I can hear him moan with pleasure rubbing his body on mine our cocks mash together

a he smashes it and soon he does seem to

truly enjoy it.

I love how his hand follow through onto my belt he undoes it sliding it off to the floor he drops my underpants and he knelt down to his knees he sucks in my cock.

“Good boi! This is so much more your style”

“You are so beneath me”

“I bet the taste is impeccable “

“So impressive all you can think about “

“You want it more than anything “

“Stare at the man who owns this cock”

“Suck it hard”

“Such me dry “

“Enjoy it “

“Embrace it “

“Mmmmmm! Yes”

“You are all I desire “

“Who am I?”

“My God! My Lord”

“Bow before me”

“Yes! Master Lawrence “

“You are my owner”

“I will serve you “

“Kiss my hand “

“What sensation “

“Oh God! I am hard”

“Master please “

“What boi?”

“Kiss me!”

I cup his chin lifting his lips to match my lips head on as we press each together we are making out intensely wrapping his arms on to me.

We kiss like crazy I sit back on my chair his legs lift over my lap sitting firmly laying on to it and starts to is slowly tide me and we kiss continuously:

I strip him of his clothes grabbing my apple iPhone I take it in hand then switch it on and hit Apple Music as the music blast a bit to my favorite song.

“Why don’t you a do a little dance for me?”

“Put them back on”

“Strip tease for me”

“Master people are looking “

“Hell no!”

“Master”

“Mwahahahahaha”

“Jackass”

“Oh My”

“I said dance “

“DANCE “

“YES”

“MASTER”

“BABE”

“USE ME”

“Work hard for it”

“Show me those”

“What things?”

“The asset”

“Mwahahahahaha “

“Fucking Hot”

“Do you like?”

“I love “

“Keep it up bitch”

“Yes sir”

“Lap dance”

“Of course”

The end

[rataticaisdreaming]

day 7 - dancing & now or never @intrualityweek

Summary: Patton decides it’s now or never to ask Remus to spend some time with him.

Pairing: Platonic Intruality (he/him for both)

Word Count: 1319

Warnings: Intrusive Thoughts / Decapitated head / Blood

The more Remus hanged out with the others, the more Patton realized that maybe, maybe, Remus wasn’t the worst like he initially thought, and now he wanted to hang out with him and had no idea how to ask. 

He started to practice what he could say by talking to the air, all while he walked towards the duke’s room.

“Hey! Do you wanna help with dinner?” he said, realizing the gremlin was banned from the kitchen. 

“Mmm… I was thinking you could show me the imagination?” that was not going to happen, he was terrified to go! Roman’s side was unpredictable enough, he didn’t want to think about what Remus’ side would be like.

“Let’s play a game!” nope, he learned from Virgil that was a terrible thing to say to the duke.

When he finally reached the green door, he started to panic. He looked down at his feet, hands sweaty and thinking those are some cute barnacles. Barnacles aren’t cute, Patton! Remus’ door had water stains, tiny barnacles and marks that looked very similar to claw marks, but he decided they were definitely not claw marks. So no, the door was not cute! Maybe it was a little bit.

It’s not like he was scared, he and Remus had been spending some time bonding and truly, it was kind of a good time. Janus had given him a look that said he was finally able to pawn the kraken to someone else, and Patton didn’t mind! In fact, he was more than happy to spend more time with Remus, that’s what this whole thing was about! Nervous. He was nervous, he realized as he started to fidget with his paw sleeves.

Maybe… He should just go. 

It’s not like Remus wanted to see him anyways, he probably had better things to do… But he wanted to see Remus, he came all this way and there was no turning back! He worked all his courage up for this and hey, maybe he will just decline and that’s okay! Just because he doesn't want to spend time with him now, doesn’t mean he won't accept the offer in the future!

Come on, Patton! You’ve got this! It’s now or never and you know it! Just knock on the door and everything will be A-OK!

He took a deep breath and shakily knocked six times, ruining the cheerful tune due to how nervous he was.

After the disruptive knock on the door, he waited, and he waited a little bit more. This was a mistake. Why would he answer the door, there was nothing important he needed to say. Maybe he was asleep, sometimes Virgil takes naps in the afternoon, sometimes he takes naps too. What if he recognized Patton’s signature knock and he is purposely pretending to not have heard the door, waiting to hear footsteps walking away… What if he hates me, what if he thinks I’m being rude or trying to make fun of him for asking him to spend time with me. The spiral of thoughts were cut off by the door slowly creaking open, hinges screaming in agony. The bottom of the door dragged blood across the floor as it opened in a sickening display. It didn’t open completely. This confused the moral side who, a little bit scared, leaned forward to look inside for any sign of the duke.

“Remus…? Are you in there?” no answer. “I just wanted to ask you something, nothing to lose your head over, don’t worry!”

The first response he got were wet sticky sounds coming from inside the room. Patton leaned back to the hall, happy there was someone, and hopefully not something, inside the room.

Remus’ decapitated head bounced its way outside the room to meet Patton, leaving splats of blue blood that mixed with the red blood on the floor. 

Patton jumped a little at the sight of the beloved devilish grinning head looking up at him, but to both his and Remus’ surprise… He wasn’t scared, he didn’t feel disgusted or feel any ill feelings towards the stunt.

No. He laughed. 

Giggles filled the empty hall, shoulders relaxed and the grinning head turned its expression to one of annoyance.

“Oh, Remus! That is awesome!” he said in between giggles and tugs of his cat sleeves.

Remus stared at him for a few seconds, smile now looking out of place with the new annoyed, confused frown. His headless body came to pick up the head, cradling it in his arms like a trophy.

“It’s not funny if it doesn’t scare you, you know?” the head said, smile replaced with a childish pout.

“Hmhmhm! I think it’s good, it means you'll have to come up with new ideas to scare me!” he said genuinely, despite not really looking forward to the heart attacks he would have in the future.

Remus didn’t look fully convinced by that, but he resigned and put his head back on. Lazily resting the side of his body against the door frame, he looked at Patton with squinting eyes.

“What are you here for?”

Oh. Right. He came here for a reason.

It was so easy to forget everything when you were around the duke, it all felt light-hearted and drama free. It was silly and, to be honest, a breath of fresh air. His mistakes were not looked down upon, instead, they were turned into sympathetic jokes and a playful punch on the shoulder. They shared a similar sense of humor. No butt of the joke (heh, butt), just funny phrases and nonsensical word play that had nothing to do with the topic at hand, but hey, it made them giggle.

That’s why it was so easy to hang around him. If you didn't think much of the gruesome commentary and simply enjoyed the moment… Remus was one hell of a friend.

Which is why he was here. He wanted to be his friend.

“I was wondering…” he started, looking at his, fingers crossed, new friend. “If you wanted to play DDR before dinner?”

“You mean the same DDR Jan and I have been using behind your back?” the gremlin said, smiling gremlinly.

“Yeah! I thought we could play some songs and then chill out in the bean bags while we wait! You know, just catching up. After dinner we could watch a movie! Any movie! Well, not any movie, just one you think would be appropriate for me, you know? And I mean it’s totally okay if you don’t want to! I just thought that maybe, and only if you want to, we could spend some time together?” 

Remus stood there, blinking and processing the rant he just heard. So many questions and ideas… Patton was sure he messed it up, he should’ve gone slower. Simpler. Now the duke would never want to spend time with him, he was too awkward! There was no way he accepted.

“Sure!”

Except there was.

“Really?” he asked carefully.

“Oh yeah! I have literally nothing to break, steal and/or poison so… I’m free!”

Patton lit up and with bouncy steps, guided Remus towards his room.

“Are you still stealing things from Roman?” he asked, looking at the demented, yet endearing, red eyes of his new, official, friend.

Friend. He was his friend! Well, not like he had explicitly said he was or anything, but it was implied! Besides, all good lasting friendships start with intense dance battles, serious discussions about whether or not cereal is a soup (they both agreed it was), annoying Logan time and falling asleep cuddling each other, after swearing to Thomas himself they wouldn’t fall asleep on their Lord of the Rings movie marathon.

Perhaps not every friendship started that way. Maybe they were not your usual duo, but that would make them special. It would make their relationship theirs and Patton was very happy it was that way.

[snapeslittlebean]

Baby

CG Snape and Boy Little

First person POV

Word Count: 1623

Snape has brought a student who previously had a bad home life into his home over the summer. What does he do when he regresses to a tiny age?

(TW? Implication of trauma though literally no details are mentioned just that character has had trauma)

Professor Snape has already done so much for me. I cant have him finding me like this. A whine escapes me as I try to force the fuzzy feeling from my mind. I want to cry.

He's already taken me in, given me a roof over my head and allowed me to eat his food. He won't want to deal with me being a baby too. I can tell if I let it this will be a very young regression. My reward for fending it off for so long.

I'd managed to hide it at school, retreating to abandoned classrooms whenever this happened. Even if that often meant in small bruises from trying to get into things I probably shouldn't have or sobbing in a mess on the floor because being alone when so little is quite scary sometimes.

The stairs creak and I wince. That'll be Snape coming to tell me to come down for dinner. I hope he's not too mad I didn’t turn up on my own.

The soft knock makes me jump even though I was expecting it. "Dinner is served."

I wince, his voice holds that sarcastic edge to it that tells me he’s a more than a little annoyed at having to walk up the stairs to call me. When I don’t respond he knocks again calling my name.

I bite my lip. There’s nothing for it, if I cant force myself to be big ill just habe to pretend to be until I can get back to my room. Standing poses a little trouble, I stumble, knocking my alarm clock from the bedside table.

"Are you alright in there?" Snape sounds concerned now. I nod but then remember he can’t see me.

"I... I'm ok." I say relieved it doesn't sound too babyish. Quickly I waddle over to the door, taking a moment to practice walking like a big boy. Then I open it, peeking around the edge up at him. .

Snape peers down at me, a suspicious expression on his face. His eyebrows furrow as he takes a step back allowing me to exit the room. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

I nod, stepping into the hallway, hoping my shaking hands aren’t too noticeable. He gives me a long look then turns his head indicating I should lead. I gulp, pushing down the childish urge to just hold my arms up and ask to be carried. He'd definitely know something was up then.

The stairs are steep, I find myself gripping the banister, afraid I'll lose balance and fall. If my decent is slower than usual Snape doesn't comment, only catching my shoulder when I stumble stopping me from tumbling down the last few steps.

On unsteady legs I make my way to the kitchen, wishing I had something to hold on to like on the stairs. All the while I can feel Snape's eyes burning into the back of my skull.

My heart drops when I spot the food laid out on the table. How am I supposed to eat that when I'm so small?

I sit anyway, staring at the plate nervously. Snape sits opposite me, I know he's watching me. "Aren't you hungry?"

It would be safer to say no and leave it at that but I know that wouldn't excuse me from the meal. Snape wants me to eat three meals a day even if they're small. He’d only tell me to eat what I can.

Besides I am hungry. I try to ignore the part of my brain that reminds me I'd rather have a nice bottle and a nap. That's a babyish thing to want and I’m not a baby. My eyes burn, no no I'm not going to cry.

I pick up my knife and fork, they don't fit very well on my hands. How am i supposed to do this again? I hold the end of the knife stabbing at the meat in hopes of cutting it.

Snape is still watching, he's only taken a couple of bites from his own dinner. He frowns watching my struggle and lowers his cutlery to his plate.

Then he does something entirely unexpected. He reaches across the table, taking my knife and fork from me gently and begins cutting up my food without a word.

I sit rigidly, waiting for the scolding I'm sure will ensue. But he only gives me a raised eyebrow when I meet his eyes. I hope I don't look as close to tears as I am.

Eating is a bit easier after that. Every time I try to cut up more of my food Snape stops me, taking over for me so I don't have to. He doesn't try to make conversation and I'm glad of that, he rarely wants to talk at meal times.

By the time my plate is empty I'm feeling pleasantly full and very sleepy. My eyes are already drooping, I rub them in an attempt to keep them open.

"Looks like you need an early night."

"Mmm." I'm too tired to use big boy words. The thought of traversing the distance back to bed is exhausting.

I barely notice when Snape stands, walking around the table and crouching down in front of me. I frown wondering what he’s doing.

"What's going on with you child? Are you ill?"

I shake my head. I don't think I could tell him even if I wanted too. He cant find out about this. Surely he won't want me living with him if he knew. Tears well up in my eyes, my lip wobbles. Oh no... Oh no.

A sob escapes me. Snape's eyes widen for a moment he looked like he didn't know what to do. Then his hand comes up to rub my arm.

"What's brought this on?" He sounded genuinely confused. I shake my head again aware that my cries are sounding more and more baby like.

I wail when the comforting hand is removed but its quickly replaced with strong arms lifting me up. The next thing I know Snape is sitting in my char and settling me into his lap, a hand cradling the back of my head. "Shhh, its alright, you're alright."

He rocks from side to side slowly. Continuing to murmur soft reassurances. The way someone might do to a real baby. Embarrassingly it's working, my wails subsiding into sniffles and hiccups. My fingers find their way to my mouth.

Snape pauses, running his fingers through my hair, pulling it from my face. I avoid looking at him, instead finding my eyes drawn to the shiny, black buttons down his front. Without much thought on my part my free hand reaches for one, playing with it absent-mindedly.

"How old are you right now?" The question is asked softly and without judgement. I whine anyway because I don't want to be little right now. Surely he'll leave me if he knows.

I'm not a baby I try to tell him but it only comes out in incomprehensible babbles. I squirm in frustration babbling more nonsense up at him.

A very small smile appears on his lips. Wait, why was he smiling? "Perhaps too young to tell me hm?"

I can feel tears forming again. He quickly shushes me when I whimper, resuming the ridiculously soothing rocking movement from before.

"It's alright little one. There's nothing to be ashamed of. This is just an understandable reaction to trauma," I don't quite understand what he’s saying but the steady rhythm of his voice accompanied by the slow rocking has my cries quietening, “I have suspected this may be the case for a while, though I was hoping to avoid this situation before you’d told me yourself. Still I suppose it cannot be helped.”

"You must be thirsty after all that," Snape noted thoughtfully, he drew his wand summoning a glass of what looked like pumpkin juice. I watch it float towards his outstretched hand with interest. He then waves his wand again muttering a spell of some sort and the glass changes shape forming a lid and....

"Bud! Bud!" I reach out for the bottle making grabby hands at it. Somewhere in the back of my mind I know I shouldn't be acting like this.

"I know," Snape says putting his wand away, "lets move somewhere more comfortable then shall we?"

I whinge, was he not going to get me have the bottle. I'm being lifted again, carried somewhere new. The bottle floats next to me, just out of reach. I babble, reaching for it only to be shushed whenever my babbles turn into whines.

When Snape sits again I realise where he's taken me. The book lined walls can only mean this is the living room. I only have a moment to look around before I'm gently moved so my head is resting in his elbow. I reach for the bottle that hovers above me but Snape takes it before I can grab it.

Why was he not letting me have it? I whine, my face screwing up as I wriggle in the surprising comfortable hold.

"Hush little one there you go." The bottle is pressed against my lips and I instinctively start suckling. This is just what my dry throat needs. Slowly I open my eyes staring up at Snape who watches me with a thoughtful expression.

I'm too tired and foggy to contemplate what that might mean. My eyelids droop and this time I let them fall shut.

[impossiblescissorspeachpaper]

Come back Nesta, please

This is perhaps the silliest thing I’ve ever written. Honestly it’s ridiculous. But considering Nike has her own Cassian at home I’m sure she can relate to these antics. Maybe :)

Happy birthday @nikethestatue! It’s been so lovely getting to know you this year and honestly I cannot imagine a day going past without chatting with you. Not only are you strong and intelligent, but you are so generous and truly care about your friends. So, here’s a little drabble of ridiculousness just for you. Don’t ever leave your Cassian 🤭 lots of love to you today, and always 💕

Bat boys + background Nessian. 1.3k words. Fluff/idiocy.

The final bars of a moody Mariah Carey song blasted through the tiny apartment Azriel shared with his brothers. It was tough being a fresh university graduate and they all told themselves the living situation was temporary, but really, it was second nature.  Azriel, Cassian and Rhys had all been living together since Rhys’ mother had fostered the other two boys when they were eleven and even shared a dorm during their college years.

It felt like home for Azriel, and he really didn’t mind it. That is, until last night. When Cassian had decided to incessantly play that fucking song on repeat. That whiny, depressing, shrill song. We Belong Together. Over and over and over.

Sure, Mariah could croon with the best of them, but his last nerve was fraying. Her voice was blasting though the speakers and echoing down the hall from Cassian’s room where he’d been holed up for about fourteen hours now and Azriel had developed a tick in his jaw.

Rhys, even more infuriatingly, seemed unperturbed.

Azriel tried to concentrate on the words he was typing on the resume he was updating to send to prospective jobs he intended to apply to. His jaw clenched as he deleted the last line he’d messed up, backspacing aggressively.

As the final notes of the tune faded off, he breathed a sigh of relief… before he heard that insufferable song start up. Again.

Slamming his laptop closed, Azriel only saw red as he muttered darkly, “I’m going to fucking kill him.”

Rhys’ head snapped up from his phone at the violent declaration, lazily sprawled in a brown leather armchair, one leg hitched up on the armrest. He sat up at attention when he spied the livid look on Azriel’s face.

“Wait. Az. Stop—”

Abruptly standing from the couch, Azriel shoved his laptop aside as he trudged down the hall, his footfalls stomping loudly, ensuring Cassian would be well aware of the onslaught that was heading his way.

Azriel didn’t even turn around as he growled back, “It’s been long enough! And if I have to hear that gods damned song one more fucking time—”

“He’s just upset, leave him be. You know what Cass is like,” Rhys reasoned, trailing after Az as he barrelled down the hall.

Azriel had reached Cassian’s room and, not bothering to knock, he burst through the door with such force Rhys was surprised it hadn’t been ripped clean off the hinges.

…I should have held on tight, I never should have let you go I didn’t know nothing I was stupid I was foolish, I was lying to myself…

The song pounded through the small space, like a wave engulfing them as Azriel opened the door. The melody ricocheted off the walls of the tiny bedroom, the curtains drawn tightly closed, Cassian seemingly intent on giving the room a cave like quality in his melancholy.

Peering around Azriel’s shoulder, Rhys spied the most pathetic sight he’d possibly ever seen: lying feebly in his bed like an 18th century maiden who had taken ill and required to either be shipped off to a distant aunts’ home by the sea or await her demise on her deathbed, was Cassian.

If Azriel hadn’t been so irritated, he would have laughed, then perhaps felt a little bad for the guy. But as it were, he was just annoyed.

“Cass!” Azriel shouted over the loud music. “Turn that shit down, or turn that shit off, but either way I do NOT want to hear it again!”

Cassian turned his hazel eyes onto his brothers, now both standing in the doorway; Azriel’s face twisted in a look of disgruntled rage, while Rhys’ mouth seemed to be wobbling, either trying not to burst out laughing or truly feeling sorry for his friend.

From his bed, he curled into a foetal position on top of his duvet, clutching his pillow with the most wretched, forlorn looking expression on his face. After a beat of silence between the brothers, Cassian just dramatically started singing along to the words, intent to ignore Azriel’s requests to turn it off.

“When you left I lost a part of me, it’s still so hard to believe, come back baby please, ‘cause we belong together.”

Azriel just exhaled through flared nostrils. “For fucks sake, Cass—”

“Who else am I gonna lean on when times get tough…”

Rhys, this time interjected. “She didn’t even—”

Cassian only got louder, singing over his brothers’ fruitless reasoning. “WHO’S GOING TO TALK TO ME ON THE PHONE ‘TIL THE SUN COMES UP?”

“Cass. She’s only—”

“WHO’S GON’ TAKE YOUR PLACE THERE AIN’T NOBODY BETTER OH BABY, BABY, WE BELONG TOGETHERRR!”

Azriel and Rhys could only stand there dumbfounded, each with various shades of disbelief and incredulity splashed across their faces.

Rhys leaned towards Azriel, his eyes flaring in alarm and flicking towards Cassian before landing back on Az. “You’d think after draining the life out of that song repeatedly for the last 14 hours he’d know the words,” Rhys muttered from the corner of his mouth, a smirk fighting its way across his lips.

Azriel pinched the bridge of his nose, breathing deeply, trying to fight the urge to straddle Cassian where he lay and suffocate him with his own pillow. Instead, he just stomped to Cassian’s desk and turned down the volume, Mariah reduced to background noise as his brain finally cleared of its rage induced fog.

“Cassian, get a fucking grip, man!”

“You don’t understand!” Cassian started heatedly, sitting up on his bed, his hair ruffled and matted behind him.

“It’s really not that bad, Cass,” Rhys placated, leaning against the door jamb, his arms crossed against his chest.

Cassian scoffed. “Easy for you to say. Feyre didn’t just up and leave you!”

“Oh my god,” Rhys sighed. “Nesta did not just up and leave you!”

“She did! She’s gone, she’s not here!”

“She is on student exchange for two weeks. TWO GOD DAMN WEEKS! You’re acting like she ran off with her yoga instructor,” Azriel exasperated, arms flailing around him as he tried to make his brother see reason and stop the insanity.

Cassian narrowed his eyes, before hurling his pillow at Azriel’s face.

“At least I express how I feel. Pined after Elain much, lately?”

Azriel caught the pillow and promptly launched it back at him.

“I don’t pine! And she has a boyfriend.”

“She dumped him months ago!”

Rhys interjected, sensing one of their infamous brawls brewing, and he didn’t feel like replacing a lamp or cleaning up pieces of broken desk tonight. “Cass, why don’t you just call Nesta? She wouldn’t be starting classes straight away.”

Cassian averted his gaze, a look of sheepishness fleeting across his rough-hewn face. “I tried. I don’t think she’s landed in Japan yet.”

Azriel snorted and Cassian cast narrowed hazel eyes in his direction, as if daring him to say something. Rhys swallowed his lips, smothering his own desire to make fun of his friend as he grabbed Azriel by the shoulder and led him out.

“Well, come out when you get hungry. We ordered pizza…”

Cassian just grunted in response as Rhys closed the door behind them.

They hadn’t reached halfway back down the hall when the music started blaring through the corridor again, Mariah serenading them all once more, to Azriel’s dismay.

“Nesta better not extend her exchange program. I’ll be throwing a sack over his head and abandoning him in a forest otherwise,” Azriel muttered.

Rhys just chuckled, clapping his brother on the shoulder before responding, “It would be no use anyway, he’d eventually find his way back home. He’s incredibly needy.”

*******

tagging: @offtorivendell @fawnandshadows @swankii-art-teacher @pagemasters @the-laughing-bubble @sakurakittypeach @tswaney17 @wingedblooms @thefangirlofhp @alwayssara @ultadverb

[artificialqueens]

In Sight of Your Blinding Light (Sasha Colby x Anetra) - Athena2

Summary: Anetra is a knight for hire, and Sasha is the healer she goes to when she needs help.

A/N: Hi everyone! I’ve been very into this pairing lately, and it’s helped me get out of a very long writing slump. I hope you enjoy this! Also, thank you times 10,000 to Juno, for letting me talk about this with you, for helping with the ending, and for betaing. You are so awesome!! Please leave feedback if you’d like, I really appreciate hearing your thoughts!!

Title from Would That I by Hozier

The knock at the door is gentle, but Sasha’s a light sleeper. She pulls on a robe and heads to the door, wondering what it’ll be tonight. These late night calls are nothing new, not since she officially opened the back room of her cottage to help people with her creams and bandages and kindness. Women clutching babies, who were fussy and crying from their sickness. Adults with their own illnesses, or people who’d gotten in fights or had accidents.

The woman on her doorstep is beautiful, with dark eyes and dark hair. There’s a thin scar above her left eye that fills Sasha with intrigue. When Sasha can tear her gaze away from the face, she sees the woman is wearing arm and leg guards and a slim chest plate, a sword hanging off her hip, a knight without the full bulky suit of armor. There’s a cut on her left arm, her sleeve stained red.

“Do you need help?” Sasha asks.

The woman nods. “Um, hi. I’m sorry it’s late. Are you Sasha?”

“The one and only.”

“I was told that you’re the best healer for miles. Would you be able to help?”

“Of course.” Sasha ushers the woman inside and into the back room. She sits the woman in a chair, which looks like a doll chair next to the woman’s muscled arms, the sharp edges of her armor at odds with the rounded furniture. “Do you like tea? I have black, green, herbal…”

The woman clears her throat. “Anything is fine.”

Sasha nods and gets the kettle going. She’s been giving tea to her clients for years. It started as something she did for the kids, handing them small mugs of fruit tea with lots of honey. Having something warm to hold and sip on would take their mind off their fears or injuries or sickness, and Sasha found the same was mostly true of adults. She gave them a steaming mug of whatever kind they wanted, or a kind she thought might be a good fit—and she was very rarely wrong in her guess. For the jumpy clients, it helped them calm down, and for the shyer, quieter clients—like she has a feeling this one is—it usually helped them feel comforted.

She sorts through her teas. The woman’s shoulders were a little tense, and her sword-hilt had a carved fox—the symbol of Greenwood, where lemon was abundant. Sasha adds lemon-ginger tea to one of her stone mugs, then watches steam curl around it.

She pulls a table to the woman’s right and places her mug there, then takes her own chair in front of the woman. “Is it okay if I lift your sleeve up?”

The woman nods, extending her arm to Sasha. She’s already removed her arm guard, and she sips her tea with her free hand. “This is really good,” she says.

Sasha grins. “Thank you.” She carefully rolls up the woman’s sleeve, exposing the short red slash across her arm. It looks like a sword wound, but Sasha doesn’t need to know. It’s an easy fix, and she never asks more than she needs to.

“It looks worse than it is,” Sasha says soothingly. “I’ll get it cleaned and bandage it, then you’re good to go.”

The woman nods. She’s still as Sasha cleans the blood, still in a way that makes Sasha think she’s used to pain. It hurts to think about, and Sasha works gently, like it can make up for the pain of the past.

“It’s all set,” Sasha says, tying the bandage in place.

“Thank you.” The woman gets to her feet, her strong form even more impressive in the tiny room. “How much do you charge?”

“I don’t.” Sasha’s never charged anyone. She has enough from her old life that she doesn’t need to. That life feels like centuries ago sometimes.

“Thank you. Um, good night.”

“Good night.”

Be careful, she thinks, because even if she’d like to see the woman again, she doesn’t want her to be hurt for it to happen.

—-

In a perfect world, Anetra would sail through each assignment she’s hired for without a scratch. But she gave up on believing in perfection years ago, and being a knight for hire brings far more cuts and bruises than she imagined. Still, if she can’t be a real knight, she’ll take the jobs she can get, use the training she learned from other street knights. An extra guard outside a local lord’s manor on a party night. A night to kick the ass of a man harassing a woman and her son. A fight with an enemy of some noble, to send a warning. She doesn’t talk, doesn’t ask questions. She becomes a sword, sharp and ready for whoever wants to wield her, and their gold softens the blows.

Tonight she’s going after a thief. A woman hired her to get back a necklace belonging to her grandmother. It was stolen last night, and Anetra spends most of the day in a tree with cramping legs, searching for someone matching the description. It’s hours later when she gets lucky, hopping down and pulling the man into an alley. She doesn’t expect a fight, and she doesn’t get one—just a shove into the ground that scrapes her hip.

At least the necklace is okay.

She straightens up and stretches to see the scrape on her hip. It’s oozing blood, but it’s not bad. Still, there are bits of gravel in there, and while Anetra could try to get it out herself, it’s better left to a professional.

She heads into the village, delivers the necklace, collects her gold, and knocks on Sasha’s door. Anetra didn’t think she’d be back so soon, but Sasha’s her best option. She didn’t ask questions, didn’t try to make her talk, didn’t look at her with pity. Not to mention Sasha’s the most beautiful woman she’s ever seen.

Sasha’s hazel eyes light up in recognition, and Anetra’s heart lifts too. “Do you need help?” Sasha asks.

“It’s just a scrape,” Anetra says sheepishly, cheeks hot over coming here for a scratch. “There might be gravel in it but I’m fine, really.”

“No, it’s good you came,” Sasha says, voice so warm that Anetra wonders why she considered leaving.

It’s only the second time, but it feels routine as she heads down the hall, trying not to think about what room is Sasha’s. Sasha leads her to the chair in the back, brews tea, and returns with a mug, tweezers, and a bowl.

The tea is raspberry this time, and Anetra sips happily, thinking of the summers with fingertips stained red from picking raspberries.

“Would you feel okay showing me?” Sasha’s calm, professional, and while Anetra’s not embarrassed, she’d be comforted if she was.

“Sure.” She pulls her shirt up, wincing when the wound hits the air.

Sasha sits on the floor, tweezers in hand. “This might hurt a little.”

“It’s fine.” Anetra’s had worse.

Sasha nods and gets to work. It doesn’t hurt bad, just an occasional piece that tears her skin. When those happen, Anetra curls her left hand into a fist where Sasha can’t see. Anetra looks down at her side, seeing the top of Sasha’s soft brown hair. Her head is down, but Anetra sees her biting her lip in concentration as she works, and it’s hard to look away. She’s so close to her. If she reached down, she could feel if her hair is as soft as it looks—

“I’m Anetra, by the way. I never told you,” Anetra says, partly to fill the silence and partly to stop her own staring.

“That’s a pretty name,” Sasha says, and Anetra wonders when it got so hot in here. She stays still for the rest, turning the words over in her mind.

Sasha straightens up and brushes the hair off her face. “It’s all set. Not too bad, right?”

“Nope. Thank you.” She’s still too warm, and she quickly makes an exit, then spends most of the night wishing she had stayed longer.

—-

“I’m starting to think you’re doing this on purpose,” Sasha teases, when Anetra shows up for the third time in two weeks, painted with blood from nose to chin.

Anetra flashes a rare smile that Sasha treasures. “I swear I’m not.” Anetra sighs, dropping into the chair. She looks more at home in it now. “I really thought I’d get through this one without a scratch. But this cat came out of nowhere and distracted me, and I got punched.”

“Was it a cute cat?” Sasha asks. “I like the fluffy ones.” It’s a lighter side of herself, one she never really shows around clients, who expected her calm, professional persona. But something about Anetra is different, like Sasha doesn’t always have to be perfect around her.

“I didn’t notice. It looked fluffy, though.” Anetra smiles again. “I know it doesn’t seem like it, but I’m good at my job. I swear.”

“I believe you,” Sasha says, and she does. She doesn’t know what exactly Anetra does—she’s guessing some kind of fighter—but she knows she’s good at it, and she knows she cares about it, because she hangs in there no matter how many times she’s been hit.

“Um, how—how are you?” Anetra asks, while Sasha gently wipes the blood off her face. “I never ask. I just show up and bleed on your furniture.”

Sasha smiles to herself. Anetra’s more talkative now, like she’s grown used to Sasha, knows she’s safe with her. She’s a bit like Camden, Sasha’s neighbor. Quiet at first, but talkative once she knew you. A lake that was freezing at first dip, but quickly warmed around you.

“This furniture’s seen worse, believe me.” Sasha pauses, because none of her clients ever ask about her. “And I’m good. It’s been a slow day, I was mostly out in the garden.” She was never allowed to tend the huge garden in her old life, and the first thing she did when she got this cottage was spend a day outside, sweaty and smeared with dirt, planting seeds. The seeds of her new life.

“Did you plant it yourself?” Anetra asks, eyes on the window, where stalks of tomatoes flutter in the wind.

“I did.”

“Impressive,” Anetra says. “If I knew how to whistle, I would.”

“I can’t whistle either,” Sasha admits.

They laugh together, and Sasha leans in now that the blood is gone, gently feeling along her nose. She’s close enough to see flecks of gold in Anetra’s brown eyes, and the sight is so stunning she has to remind herself what she’s doing. “Luckily it’s not broken.”

“That’s—that’s good, then.” Anetra sounds dazed, like she also forgot what was going on. It’s a sound, and a look, she gets a lot around Sasha. “I’ll try not to be back so soon,” she teases.

“I’ll be here,” Sasha promises.

—-

Two weeks later things are going great, with a string of assignments that go well. Anetra’s body is grateful, but there’s a dull pain somewhere anyway, and it might be from missing Sasha.

Until the night she stops some poison supplier, one who signals to a friend behind Anetra, and there’s an arrow in her shoulder, just above her armor, before she can even turn around.

“Fuck.” She stares at it sticking out of her in disbelief, like she’s in a daze. It doesn’t look real. More like a toy arrow, sticking out of a shoulder that’s not real either. Even the trickles of blood seem too red to be hers.

She’s not supposed to take it out herself, she knows that much. Her training might not be from a royal guard, but others gave her tips on treating injuries to hold herself together until she can get actual help, and this was one of the first.

She swears again and gets moving.

“Ever removed an arrow?” Anetra asks Sasha by way of greeting. She’s gritting her teeth, breathing labored, but there’s relief beneath it all, because she knows she’ll be okay now.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Sasha pinches the bridge of her nose and swears under her breath. “Come in.”

Anetra eases into the chair while Sasha gets ready. She’s really focused today; there’s no tea, but she gives Anetra something else to drink, for the pain. She slowly removes Anetra’s armor, so she can be more comfortable. She gets bandages and cream, then comes back with scissors Anetra can’t help but pale at.

“Okay,” Sasha begins, calm as ever, despite what’s happening, “I’ll cut down the arrow first.”

Anetra sits as still as a statue while Sasha trims the arrow, trying to keep her breaths slow.

“You’re doing great,” Sasha says, and Anetra burns at the praise.

Sasha turns to the front. She braces her left arm across Anetra’s chest, holding her steady. Her heart is pounding so hard she has no doubt Sasha can feel it. She doesn’t know if it’s from the anticipation, or having Sasha so close. “I’ll pull it out on three.”

“No, wait,” Anetra says, hating the quiver in her voice. “Do it on a random number. A friend of mine said it’s better that way. That the anticipation of waiting for three makes it worse, or something.”

“Smart idea.” Sasha grins. “Okay. Seven. Twelve. Ninety-three. Five.”

On five, Sasha tugs the arrow out. It’s like being shot but in reverse, like part of her chest is being pulled out from the inside, and Anetra shudders out a gasping curse, curling in on herself and wincing as she pants for breath.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” Sasha’s voice breaks through the cloud of pain. She hands Anetra a bowl in case she needs it, stroking the sweaty hair off her face. The touch is soft and cool, bringing her back to the world. “It’s out. Still with me?”

Anetra nods. Whatever Sasha gave her is kicking in. It’s not knock-out strong like the whiskey people in town swear by, but it dulls the worst. Her eyes slide closed while Sasha takes care of the rest, her light touches grounding Anetra.

“I’m done,” Sasha says softly. “I had to stitch the entry and exit wounds. I can take them out in a few days, just try to take it easy until then.”

Anetra nods.

“It’s almost three. Do you want to stay here until the morning?”

The words shock Anetra, sending her eyes flying open. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to keep you up all night.”

“Don’t worry about it. So, do you want to stay?”

It’s a nice idea, and she wants to say yes so badly. Wants to watch the moon fade and the sun emerge, watch it light up Sasha’s face. But Anetra’s alert now, and the worries are springing up like enemies in the field. “But if I’m here long, what if that puts you in danger? That guy could have followed me here, I didn’t even think—” She won’t let anything happen to Sasha. Anetra’s hired to fight some people and protect others—it’s usually both at the same time, two sides of the same coin. A sword and shield in one, for whoever hires her. For Sasha, she would be both.

“I don’t think that’ll happen,” Sasha says, steadying the hand Anetra didn’t realize was shaking. “And if anyone comes here, I’m not worried. You’re here, and I’m tougher than I look. Just because I help people doesn’t mean I can’t fight.” Sasha’s expression is solemn, and Anetra realizes how true it is. Sasha is kind and caring, a shield for the people who need her. But it doesn’t mean she can’t fight, that she can’t be a sharp sword too. Just like Anetra.

“Okay,” Anetra agrees. She lets Sasha lead her into the kitchen, trying not to wonder why she would be so nice to her. Why she cares this much, when the people who hired Anetra never blinked at her injuries.

Sasha comes over with two mugs and a kettle.

“Let me.” Anetra grabs the kettle with her good arm. Sasha’s probably poured hundreds of cups of tea for people. Anetra’s betting it’s a long time since someone poured her one.

“My own personal knight.” Sasha smiles as she takes a seat across from her.

“Not a real one, anyway,” Anetra mutters.

Sasha frowns. “Do you want to tell me?”

Anetra sighs and sips her tea. Chamomile, with honey, she’s pretty sure. “Not much to tell. I’m not a noble, so I can’t get on the royal guard. I figured I’d help whoever I can around here. I’m a knight for hire, I guess.”

All she wanted was that life of gleaming armor, the weight of a sword at her hip, the tales of glory. But the Queen wouldn’t consider knighting someone without a title attached to their name. So Anetra made her own title. If no one would give her armor for protection, she’d protect herself. If no one would put the sword in her hand, she’d sharpen herself into one.

Sasha nods. “I’m sorry. If it helps, being a noble isn’t that great.”

The revelation doesn’t surprise Anetra, because as much as Sasha fits here, there was something different about her, something Anetra couldn’t figure out. Now it seems obvious. It’s in Sasha’s poise, the way she carries herself. Of course she was made for a life of gowns and balls and polite society.

“No?” Anetra asks finally.

“No. There’s a lot of rules and expectations. You have to act a certain way, look a certain way, all the time.” She sighs. “I couldn’t live that life anymore. So I left. Went to a few different places, learned a few different things, before I found somewhere I wanted to stay, where I could make my own life as a healer.”

Anetra pictures Sasha alone, with no one to take care of her the way she took care of everyone, running from the life she knew to create one she wanted. She saw it earlier, and she sees it again now: Sasha’s more of a fighter than Anetra gave her credit for.

“I’m glad you’re happy now.” Anetra smiles. Sasha draws them out of her easier than anyone, and she flashes several more as they talk, about Anetra’s best fights and Sasha’s time traveling. Anetra has never talked this much, but Sasha savors every word. The hours pass until the sun rises, and Sasha turns to gold before Anetra’s eyes.

—-

Anetra gets her stitches removed, and Sasha jokes that she barely recognizes her not covered in blood. She brings Sasha sunflowers, since she mentioned the garden was too small to grow them, and the flowers turn to Sasha rather than the sun.

She takes it easy for a week, just simple jobs. She doesn’t want to ruin the hard work Sasha did putting her back together. When she feels good again, she takes one a bit harder. The owner of a tavern has been cheating customers out of money, and she’s been hired to rough him up as a warning to return it. It’s a quick job, and she hardly gets bruised.

She’s heading out of the woods when she hears footsteps.

She instantly unsheathes her sword, heart picking up as she spins around to find the noise. One man emerges from the trees. A second follows, and then two more. They all have a tattoo on their arm, she notices. An eye. It matches the one on the man she’d beat up not long ago, the enemy of a local noble. Apparently he has friends.

They circle her, and her heart sinks. She’s taken on two at once, has scraped by against three. Four is just too many.

But she’s not going easily.

They don’t have swords or shields. This is bare fists. Personal.

She tosses her sword aside. She can get by without a weapon, has won plenty of fights with just her hands. She’s her own weapon—one that’s outnumbered, but still sharp.

She dodges punches and hurls her own, the world a mess of fists and grunts and blood. She breaks one’s nose with a kick, narrowing it to three against one. But then one pulls out a knife, and the trouble really begins.

It’s not about winning anymore. It never was, against four opponents. It’s about making them work for it–taking as many hits as she can, and giving as many back. Sweat runs into her eyes, her breaths more strained, the number of hits raining on her skin growing. The knife sinks into her side just as one kicks her leg so hard it gives out. She crashes to the ground, awash in the bitter smell of blood. There’s one last kick in her bleeding side, and then they leave, satisfied that they’ve paid her back.

She doesn’t know how long she stays there, the sweet grass smell poking through the cloud of blood and sweat making her face stiff. She rolls over and stares at the black sky, can’t tell the difference between the sky and just closing her eyes.

She needs help, and there’s only one place she can go. She hauls herself up with a groan, using her sword to support her weight. Her vision spins, throwing the world sideways. She keeps her eyes on her feet, stumbling over the cobblestones.

Just a few more steps…

She falls into the door, unable to lift her arm and knock. Her eyes flutter shut as she waits, hope slipping away like the blood pouring through her fingers.

The door opens, and then she collapses, choking out the only name her mind knows, the name her body brought her to. “Sasha.”

—-

Anetra slowly blinks awake, taking in the unfamiliar ceiling, unfamiliar bed, unfamiliar white shirt she’s wearing. There are bandages on her forehead, her arms, around her knuckles, a thick one around her side. Bruises paint her arms blue and purple. She feels like one giant bruise, really, sore and stiff all over. But she’s in one piece. Fragments flood Anetra’s mind, hazy and blurred like steam. She remembers the woods, the fight, then Sasha’s door—

To her right is a chair, and in that chair, sleeping softly, is Sasha. Her legs are tucked underneath her and her cheek rests on her hand. She’s softer and more vulnerable than Anetra’s seen her, and she feels like she’s intruding on something she’s not supposed to see. She wants to wrap her arms around Sasha and hold her close, keep her safe. And in this moment, it hits her harder than a punch, because she knows she loves Sasha. Knows it like she knows her own sword. They could have a life in this cottage, and she could help Sasha in the garden even though she’s never planted anything. They could plant new seeds, share quiet nights together, take care of each other.

Anetra sighs, because it will never work. Sasha comes from nobility, and Anetra’s just some street knight. The seed will never grow.

Sasha startles awake, adjusting her position and rubbing her eyes. “Sorry, I—I didn’t mean to fall asleep. How are you feeling?”

“Were you here all night?” Anetra asks with a pang in her chest.

Sasha nods. “I wanted to keep an eye on you. You…you were in bad shape.” It must have been bad, if that’s what Sasha is telling her. Sasha’s voice is oddly small, and her eyes are red, now that she’s closer. It could be from exhaustion, but Sasha’s never looked like this even when Anetra knew she was tired. She’s never disheveled or stressed like this. When someone showed up at her door, she always knew what to do, weaving help out of bandages and tea and gentle words.

It really scared her, Anetra realizes. Anetra really scared her, showing up here covered in blood and collapsing at her door. Red still clings to Sasha’s nails, blood she couldn’t scrub off or forgot about in her worry. Worry Anetra caused her.

It’s too much. It’s one thing to have Sasha bandage a cut. But for Sasha to stay awake all night to make sure she was okay, for Anetra to scare her and cause her so much worry, is too much. Too much to leave a trail of blood here and put in her potential danger. Too much to ask of her. Too much care for Sasha to give.

And it’s more than Sasha caring about her. She cares about Sasha. She cares too much, is too attached, and she hasn’t been attached to anyone in a while. If those men found her to get payback, there’s no saying someone couldn’t find Sasha one day, hurt her as revenge. Even if that didn’t happen, how could she ask someone as amazing as Sasha to love her, with her sword-sharp edges?

She needs to leave and it needs to be now. Tearing an arrow out without waiting for the number three. Taking the pain without dragging out the anticipation.

“I have to go.” Anetra swears as she gets to her feet, stumbling forward like a newborn giraffe. She holds her side, wincing at the touch.

“But you—”

“I’m sorry, I have to.” Anetra sighs, knowing she’ll never have the right words. “Thank you for helping me. Get some sleep. Please, okay?”

“Anetra, wait—”

But she leaves before Sasha can say anything else, and the blood staining the doorstep is just another ugly reminder that Anetra did the right thing.

—–

Anetra passes the days staring at her own ceiling. She’s still in the white shirt Sasha gave her, and it smells like Sasha. Like honey and earth and something that’s just her. Anetra keeps it on, because she’s no stranger to pain.

She did the right thing, didn’t she? Leaving to stop potential pain? Yet pain is all Anetra feels now, and it’s more than just her healing injuries. Maybe it was wrong to walk away from Sasha. To think Sasha couldn’t love her with the same care and love she put into patching Anetra up. Or maybe the patching up is the problem. Because maybe there would come a time when Sasha couldn’t put her back together.

After a week of this, there’s a knock on her door.

“Hello?” Anetra’s voice is gruffer than normal, hasn’t been used all week.

The redhead standing there doesn’t seem to mind. “I’m a friend of Sasha’s. She asked me to bring you this.” She holds out a bag, and Anetra realizes it’s her armor and sword, which she’d left behind in her haste. Of course Sasha wanted her to have it back.

Anetra swallows the lump in her throat. “Thank you.”

“Of course.” The redhead bites her lip. “I know it’s not my business, but you should talk to her. I’ve never seen her this upset.”

Anetra retreats to the bed again, running her fingers over the shirt until she falls asleep.

—-

Anetra survived four men at once, but nothing has been harder than knocking on Sasha’s door now.

After a few more days replaying their last interaction, thinking about what Sasha’s neighbor said, she finally forced herself out of bed. Anetra thought she could leave and spare Sasha from the pain, that she could shoulder it for the both of them. But leaving was what hurt Sasha in the first place, the last thing Anetra ever wanted to do to her. She needed to make it right.

Sasha answers, and Anetra doesn’t miss that quick smile dart across her face. She leads Anetra to the kitchen table, and the silence between them is heavy enough to crush a building.

“I know you’re not a big talker,” Sasha finally begins. “But if you want to, I’ll listen.”

“I…I don’t know where to start.”

“Well, let me say I’m glad you’re okay, at least,” Sasha says, and it fills Anetra with hope. “Leaving like that…do you know how dangerous that was? How worried I was?” She isn’t yelling. Anetra doesn’t think she has it in her to yell. Honestly, she’d prefer yelling to the hurt and worry in Sasha’s voice.

“I know. I’m sorry I did that.” Anetra takes a breath, because she needs to tell the truth. She owes Sasha that much. “I left because…because I was scared. I realized how much I cared for you. How much I’ve asked you to care for me. It was too much, and I thought it was safer to leave. Then I wouldn’t put you through that stress or hurt you anymore.”

Sasha’s quiet, her eyes intent, taking it in. “But what if I want to care for you?”

Anetra ignores the warmth in her chest, drawing her internal armor tighter. “I told you, it’s dangerous. Someone could follow me to you. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“And I told you,” Sasha says firmly, “I’m tougher than I look. I can handle that. You won’t scare me off. And I know you wouldn’t let anything hurt me.”

She’s right, and Anetra knows it. Anetra will always protect her, but Sasha can handle the scary parts of Anetra’s life, and she can handle herself. Just because her strength and determination are wrapped in kindness doesn’t mean they aren’t there.

“There’s something else,” Sasha says. It’s not a question, because of course she knows.

Anetra nods, and she finally peels her armor away, showing Sasha what’s underneath. “I’m not good enough for you,” she breathes, blinking away tears, the confession an arrow through the chest.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean…you’re from a noble family. You’re smart and kind and beautiful. You’ve probably always expected someone better—you deserve someone better.”

Anetra looks down, sure Sasha will agree. But when she looks up, Sasha is at her side.

“It’s not about what I deserve, it’s about what I want,” Sasha says seriously, her thumb brushing away Anetra’s tears. “Anetra, I love you. I can be myself around you. Everyone sees me as some perfect hero who always knows how to help, but you see me for me. You’re the first person who ever asked about me. You’re the first person I’ve ever talked about my past with.”

“I am?”

“Yes. That old me, that old life, is gone. I don’t want some noble. I want someone I love, someone I can be me with. That’s you.”

Anetra nods shakily.

“And who says you’re not good enough?” Sasha continues. “You’re the strongest, bravest person I know. You’re kind, and you do the right thing and protect people even when it’s hard.”

The words slam into Anetra, filling her with relief and a lightness she didn’t know she could have. She’s enough. She never realized how much she needed to hear it, how every swing of her sword was an attempt to do more, do enough, prove that she was worthy of being a knight, even if she couldn’t have the title.

“Thank you,” Anetra says finally, taking in the warmth of Sasha’s eyes. In trying to protect them from the hurt, she had taken away a chance at joy. That joy is rising in both of them, and she won’t lose it. “I’m sorry, again, for trying to leave. I–-I really care about you, and I’d like to be with you.”

Sasha smiles. “I’d love that.”

“Um, so how…how do we do this?” Anetra asks, rubbing her neck. She’s gone for drinks at a pub with people on what she guesses was a date, but never became much. She doesn’t know what a real one looks like, and she doesn’t want to mess things up like she almost did already.

It’s probably a stupid question, but Sasha doesn’t miss a beat. “Well,” Sasha begins, smiling faintly, “did you know you can knock on my door when you’re not gushing blood? You can come over anytime. We can eat, go for a walk, talk in the garden…whatever you want.”

Anetra nods. It seems so simple when she puts it that way. Anetra didn’t need to come up with something elaborate—Sasha just wants to be with her, like Anetra wants to be with Sasha.

“Give me one minute.”

Anetra gets up and runs outside, spinning around on the doorstep and knocking on the door. Sasha opens it a few seconds later, a wide smile on her face.

“Can we start this over, and I’ll take you for a walk?” Anetra asks.

“That would be lovely.”

Anetra holds out her hand, and when Sasha takes it, Anetra presses a kiss to the back of Sasha’s hand. Sasha smiles ever wider, lacing their fingers together as they step outside.

[countlessrealities]

@holoharbinger gets a thing 'cause I've been too mean to Vox since we started to interact lately, so here's a...well, not mean thing?

In hindsight, choosing "cleaning day" as the chance to allow his self-appointed rival to visit the Hotel hadn't been Alastor's greatest idea. It had seemed perfect in the moment, because it meant that everyone else was out and about, and wouldn't come back for several hours, including Vaggie. Thus, she would have never known about that little meeting of theirs.

However, on the other hand, there was one tiny detail he had failed to consider. Namely the fact that Niffty would be roaming the building in a frenzy, uncaring of anything or anyone who might find themselves in her path.

In his defence, Alastor had thought that, with how big the building was, it would have been extremely unlikely for them to bump into the hyperactive maid. Why would she be in their same wing, when there were so many other spaces in dire need of a clean up?

As they say, famous last words.

They had barely turned a corner, casually strolling towards Alastor's room for yet another promised drink, when Niffty appeared at the other end of the corridor, moving faster than a rabid hurricane.

The Radio Demon, used to the little maid's antics after years of dealing with her, smoothly stepped aside, moving close to the wall to avoid her rush, but his companion wasn't so prompt in his reaction.

Niffty literally swept Vox off his feet with her broom, knocking him forward...and straight into Alastor.

The Radio Demon acted instinctively, without thinking, and caught the body falling into his own, fingers gripping at the other Overlord's shoulders. While that surely helped doing some damage control, he wasn't fast enough to prevent his forehead to slam his forehead against the TV Demon's screen.

Alastor's own back hit the wall, but he didn't even notice, too busy freezing as his mind registered the position they had ended up in.

Vox's hands had scrambled to find a handhold, grabbing the closest they could find...which had happened the Radio Demon himself. Those blue claws had wrapped around his waist, just about his hips, their pressure far too heavy to be ignored, even with the shield of the cloth that separated his skin from them. Their chests were brushing, a hair away from being pressed up against each other and he was almost sure that one of his antlers had gotten tangled up with the other's antenna.

And yet, that wasn't even the worst part.

Red eyes went painfully wide, grin stretched across his face and frozen in both shock and paralysing uneasiness. He could hear the light hiss of Vox's fans, feel the little sparks of electricity biting at his skin where their heads touched. His own breath was washing over the other Overlord's screen, perhaps a little quicker than it should have been.

Their mouths weren't touching, thankfully, but they might have if one of them had inched just a little closer or changed the angle of their faces.

Alastor's stomach lurched, a sick bitterness rushing up to his throat, filling the back of his mouth. Not only had his personal space been brutally violated, but he was being touched against his will in too many spots for his mind to process it.

It was too much. Too much all together.

And yet, very deep down, in the darkest recesses of his brain, there was the faintest whisper saying that, maybe, it wasn't too unbearable.

Vox was steady, solid, warm. He was everything the shadows Alastor usually dwelled in weren't. The way their electromagnetic waves mixed together made up an oddly melodious cacophony and his static weaved through the other's electricity astonishingly seamlessly.

It repulsed him. It made him ill in his guts.

It fascinated him. It made him ravenous.

Abruptly, the Radio Demon melted away into the shadows, causing his companion's face to hit the wall behind him, and he materialised again several steps away.

A hysterical laughter erupted from his throat, loud and straind and high-pitched as he moved even more backwards.

"Oh my! I just remembered. There's an exceedingly urgent business that demands my attention! So very sorry, my dear, but we must cut your visit short. You can find your way back on your own, can't you?"

He didn't wait for an answer, shadows already climbing along his legs, to whisk him away.

"Until next time, old pal!"

And you can bet that he would make sure that the "next time" would not happen any time soon.

[quiltedpomegrantes]

First Encounter

Young!M!Eden x F!PC

You both grew up in the orphanage together, rooms right next to each other. Same age and all. There was no difference between the two of your lives. Except, Eden didn't arrive till he was 7. You had lived there for as long as you could remember. All you ever knew was the confines of the orphanage, and the slight mothering of the owner. But Eden knew better.

The evening he arrived was foggy and humid. The kind of humidity that made it hard to breathe. Days like that seemed to stretch on forever. Summers were long and monotonous there. Nothing changed. There was nothing to do except sit and sizzle in the heat. You were too young to head out on your own, which meant being confined to the perimeter of the yard.

It was well past dusk when he arrived. You remember the knock at the door. Strong and formal. You guys didn't knock, anyone who lived here would have just waltzed in. The mother hen ran over and opened the door to see who it was.

He was brought in with no shoes. Only an ill-fitting sweater and shorts. His eyes were covered by a mop of hair, his feet were caked in mud, and his lips were pressed into a small line. Your guardian urged you to show him to the washroom. Show him how to use the bath, if he doesn't know.

The walk to the bathroom was silent. You tried asking how he was, and pointing out bits of the orphanage but nothing. Silence.

And the blankest face you've ever seen.

Opening the bathroom door revealed the underwhelming facilities. Tiny, minuscule bathtub with a ratty shower curtain. No curtain liner either. Only a small toilet paper holder and a dingy hand towel serve as decor. Twisting the knobs and explaining how to adjust does nothing except cause him to furrow his brow. Confusion covers his face.

Crap.

After soaking in the moment, you decide instead of a shower, you'll draw a bath for him. If he at least enters the tub, it'll improve his current state. Rushing water echoes off of the bathroom walls. But when you turn to leave, you're confronted with his arms, raised.

As if he wants you to help him undress.

Jeez.

You've done this with the littler kids, but typically you knew them. Despite feeling slightly annoyed at his silent demand, you still assist. Stripping him of his over-sized sweater and unbuttoning his shorts before turning around for his privacy. The water is perfect, and you add a cap full of the generic shampoo so there's a few bubbles. Just like how you do for the little ones. Seemingly done, he pokes your shoulder.

Not taps, pokes.

Rolling your eyes before clenching them shut and blindly helping him into the bath. He helps you wash his hair atleast, and knows to tilt his head back when you begin to rinse. After you rinse, his bangs are still pulled back, and you finally get to really look at his face. He has an adorable little button nose, with rosy cheeks and long dark eyelashes. But his eyes. His eyes are the most memorable part.

His left eye has a ring of amber surrounded by brown, whereas his right is green with a tiny smudge of brown around the rim.

You’re locked in a staring match, both of you waiting for the other to look away. You’re sure you look idiotic with your mouth hanging open. Are people allowed to have two different colored eyes? Is this naturally possible?

He’s suspiciously squinting at you. Probably wondering why the hell are you staring at his face. But before the bath goes cold, he reddens and looks away.

Disregarding the eyes thing, you lather a wash cloth before handing it to him, and leaving for a towel. The towel you pick is the most decent one you could find. It’s brown and green, which fits.

When you come back, he’s out of the bath going to put his disgusting clothes back on. You have no idea how his clothes are that gross. Was he living in a dumpster? Before he could put them all back on, you stop him and gesture to the towel. Handing him the towel causes his eyes to roll but he still wraps it around himself.

Leading him out to the hallway reveals the mother hen roughly grabbing both of your arms, asking what took you two so long, before leading you both to your rooms. One right next to the other.

The door’s nameplate reveals his name.

Eden.

The last biblical paradise.

[scaredofbrits]

A Sleepover

Dave miller (bc) x reader

idfk where I’m going with this series but yeah part 3, check out the rest if you haven’t already.

warnings: body praise, kissing, but fluff

(no smut)

——————————————————————

knock knock. You walked up to the door and looked through the peep hole. All you could see was tiny strands of blonde hair. You instantly knew who it was, and hesitated to open the door for a second. “Dave? Is that you?” You asked, leaning your head on the door.

“Well, obviously it’s me!” He yelled, still managing to sound stubborn but cute. You played with the locks and slowly opened the door, but, of course, he couldn’t wait. He pushed the door to the wall and barged in your home. “Wow, you couldn’t wait?”

“waiting….i don’t got time for that, doll.” he made circles around your living room and continued to ramble about waiting, and how he doesn’t like it. “mhm, yea. so can you explain why you’re here?” you stared at him and he froze, “well erm…my roommates, or whatever, kicked me out.” he looked around awkwardly, trying to avoid eye contact. you took his words into consideration, and gave a slight nod.

———————————

“yer’ sure I can shower here?” he bit his fingernails, trying to seem polite so you wouldn’t kick him out. “of course you can. I’ll prepare some clothes for you.” you gave him a look of assurance and he walked into your bathroom, and while he did that you searched your drawers and closet for some comfy clothes.

you waited patiently for him to come out of the bathroom, and held onto the clothing tight. he slowly opened the door and let all the smoke out. “hmm, I really needed that shower huh?” he laughed, but didn’t even realize you were staring at his scars. his beautiful scars all over him. you only had seen them on his arms but…everywhere else? it made him so much better looking.

you handed him the clothes and he observed them, “are ye jokin’ with me?” he gave you a death stare and you couldn’t help but laugh. he snatched the clothes and looked at the text on them, “not all princess are perfect.” you would die to see a goofball like him wear it. “ill just wear it inside out then.” he coughed, and threw the shirt on. it was so funny, he was so small and your shirt went down to his knees. you couldn’t contain your laughter and it for sure made him mad. “piss off, y/n.”

—————————-

“are you hungry at all?” you asked him, while messing with some ingredients in the fridge. “it’s whateva’…i don’t care what you make me. but where am I gonna sleep, luv?” he smirked, knowing that nickname would affect you somehow. “the couch isn’t all that comfy, you can just sleep with me.” you went back to an ingredient search, but what you suggested made his heart skip a beat. he got to sleep in the same bed…..as you?

you passed the plate over to Dave and he stared at the little snack you made, he found it cute. you let him into your home, let him shower, gave him some awful clothes, and made him a late night snack. he knew exactly what he’d do tonight. “so, do you like it?” you hummed happily, not even thinking about how he never took one bite. he looked up at you and smiled.

—————————————————

you got comfy under the covers and closed your eyes. but he shuffled next to you and flipped you over. “you’re gorgeous, did you know that?” he smiled and gave you a small kiss. you were stunned, the praise and kiss? what was happening? he started to lift up your shirt slowly, and you gave him some help. he traced along your stomach with his finger slowly, humming while he did it. he stopped to give you a small peck on the neck and shoulder.

you felt like it was only right to take off his shirt and appreciate his body, too. he stopped assaulting you with love and allowed you to observe his body. you kissed around his scars gently, making him gasp quietly. “you’re perfect, too.” you whispered, letting your breath hit his body. between every two kisses you’d praise him, which led him to wrapping his arms around your waist, and pulling you in a little.

you stopped kissing his body and let your fingers run through his soft hair. he rested his head on your chest, and pulled you in closer. you lightly pushed your shirt off the bed, because it started to bother you. but then you fell asleep, happy and comfy in his arms.

——————————————————————

IM SO SORRY THIS WAS CHEESY AND SHORT BUT I RLLY HOPE YOU LIKED IT !!

[moldbehindyourfridge]

“I love you always”

Summary: snape is your father and he hates to see you sad </3

Dad!snape x son!reader

Warnings a bit of tickling mentions of stress and feeling unhappy not perfect english

You where sitting In your private dorm taking notes on some herbs and plants you had found In the woods when you heard to Sound of your door opening. “What?” You groan pinching the bridge of your nose “is there another exam i have to study for? Or did i make the potion wrong again?” You asked annoyed “no y/n iam simply just checking up on you” your father answerd sounding a little concerned you stayed silent and looked out the window “hey Whats up with you?” He asked placing a hand on your shoulder. You sigh tears starting to form In your eyes “its just i just feel like the only reason you even talk to me is because of my grades i just keep on trying to make you proud every single day but the only reason you even talk to me is because i made one mistake thats the only reason anybody really notices me for that matter. I just cant do anything right and No matter how hard i try i Will always be a failiure” you sob tears falling down your cheeks “y/n” your father sighs pulling you into his lap letting you cry into his chest soaking his robes while he rubbed your back. “Y/n listen to me you are the most clever student i have ever had In my class words cant even discribe how proud of you i am but not only are you my favorite student you are also my son i cant help but see myself In you everytime i look at you and the reason i mostly only talk about your mistakes is because i just Want the best for you. And never forget that its okay to make mistakes and it dosent make you any less clever you are not even close to being a failure and i Will never stop being proud of you y/n” he said as you broke down your cries filling the room as you clung to him “I’m sorry” you sob “shhh you did nothing wrong y/n” he said letting you calm down. After 5 minutes you raise your head up from your fathers chest “there you are” he chuckles cupping your cheek tenderly. “My perfect boy” he adds “oh wipe that frown off your face” he said smirking you raise an eyebrow. “I can’t just wipe a frown off my face dad” you answer confused “then how about I help you a little” he asks suddenly creeping closer before you had time to react your fathers hands where on your stomach poking and tickling you “hey knock it off” you giggle trying to push His hands away. “Dad this isnt funny let go off me” you laugh “oh really you Sound like your having lots of fun tho” he teased scribbling his fingers all over your tiny body watching How you burst out laughing and start to kick your legs. You scream when he starts to poke at your Inner thighs and legs “oh no this seams like bad a spot dosent it?” He teased again lifting up your shirt and blowing a raspberry on your tummy. while still attacking your inner thighs enjoying listening to your screams mixed with laughter “dad please stop” you laugh “ill only stop if you admit that your not a failiure” your father mutters your still a laughing mess “okay okay you win!” You shriek. “So What are you?” Your father Said looking up at you “n-not a failiure” you giggle your father was tickling your hips. “Good job”he adds and he stops.”holy shit” you pant “language y/n” he warns smilling “or would you like to try again” he asked “No!” You yelp squirming and your father chuckles”alright I wont if you behave” he warns playfully. “What’s the time again?” you ask “I don’t know let me just check” he says pulling out his watch. “It’s almost 1am?!” He said “we must have lost track of time “wait I don’t have time to study for tomorrow!” You panic “you know what I think I’ll just sign us both in as sick then we can have the whole day for us self tomorrow then we can watch some movies or something like that” your father said and your eyes lit up “thanks dad your the best!” You muse hugging your father as he chuckles “your welcome but i think you need to get to bed now” your father adds “okay I’m also quite tired” you answer going into the bathroom to brush your teeth. “Goodnight y/n” Said your father “goodnight dad” you answer and close your bedroom door.

[jimilter]

ashhh, hi again! sorry i miscomunicated about the seokjin fic. i want to know about heavens a heartbreak away too, if thats okay? the hobi fic sounds so good and so funny 🤣 can you tell how much you have written for it? really want to read it 😍

the wip challenge!

hey, lovely! ah, it's completely alright! i failed to understand your ask too. and yes, of course it's okay! ❤

aaahhh thank you so much, i hope you like the hobi fic when i post it 🥺 i'm at 4k words rn, almost one-thirds in. the final word count will land somewhere b/w 12-14 k.

for the seokjin fic, i'm only 1k words in and haven't touched it in a year :( even the banner is from december :( the writing is also not that good bec this is the first draft. so idk when i'll actually get to posting the fic, but anyways. here's the banner, some synopsis and a tiny snippet from heaven's a heartbreak away:

chaebol!au ex boss!seokjin | ex secretary!reader friends to lovers!au (i say ex, bec they're both jobless now)

You knock at the door, restless, angry and more than a little disappointed by the events of the past two days.

The door opens and Kim Seokjin greets you with a flat stare. His hair is as immaculately styled as ever and he’s dressed elegantly in a pastel blue sweater and plaid pajamas. You must look worse for the wear than he does in your sweat and dirt laden dress, frazzled hair and lipstick half eaten out of stress. Ironic, given the situation.

"I quit," you blurt before he's had the chance to say anything.

His eyebrows raise, very slowly. But then his shoulders slump and his entire demeanor is a picture of resigned acceptance. "Can't say I didn't expect you to. Come on in."

You enter the penthouse, belatedly realising that this place is his own and not provided by the company that he was just kicked out of. 

"Tea?" Seokjin's voice rings out.

You purse your lips, following him all the way to the kitchen, and perch upon a stool. "You got vodka, boss?" you meekly ask, looking at his expectant face.

Seokjin's face is stoic for a while, and then he suddenly snorts, shaking his head in amusement. "Sure."

You two settle on one of the living room couches with vodka in ceramic coffee cups. 

"How'd it go? You didn't slap him, did you?" Seokjin takes a huge gulp, winces, and then turns to look at you with humor lining his face.

You laugh. "I almost did. He's so sleazy, boss,” you nearly whine. "Had this cocky smirk on his face the entire time I talked to him. He thinks he's got it all, now. Watch him burn the place down in a month."

Seokjin hums, downing the rest of the liquid in his cup. "This is not all on him, though. He's a man of art. He wanted to travel the world, not settle down in a four-by-four office with a corporate job." Seokjin pauses to sigh. "It was the reason why he agreed to take up business admin and went to study abroad, in the first place. But God bless my uncle, he twisted it to his convenience."

You groan. "But why did the board of directors vote him up?"

"Money, sweetheart." Seokjin shrugs, his casually offered endearment making you sip a larger than intended amount, and you cough. He shoots you a look. "What? You didn't think they could be bought?"

You swallow, thankful that Seokjin didn't interpret your coughing for what it was for. You roll with it. "It comes as a bit of a surprise, certainly."

"They took less than fifteen minutes to finish off the vote." Seokjin's eyes are saddened when he leaves your side to go back to the kitchen. Probably getting a refill. "They would take hours to pass the amends I’d suggest, remember? And they passed me by, just like that!" he calls out from the kitchen.

"I know, boss. I know," you sigh, reminded of the ill-fated day that you'd thought would go very differently, two days back. 

That morning, when you'd stepped out of the lift, the office had greeted you normally. A few nods, a couple of good mornings. The door to the meeting room had been firmly shut, as you'd already known it would be – the board of directors were voting, today. 

Seokjin's family politics had caught up with him after more than ten years of being the best CEO Kim Enterprises had ever seen in its run. But Seokjin's uncle was more concerned about his own son's return from abroad where he'd apparently finished off his PhD in something related to business. You didn't bother researching. You hated Seokjin's cousin – he didn't even deserve to be associated with the company, let alone compete against Seokjin for the CEO position.

At the far end of the hallway sat Seokjin's office, where you were headed.

You'd entered the CEO's office with trepidation, knowing you'd have to be at your best behavior lest you slap the guest.

Kim Taehyung had a sly grin over his face as he sat across Seokjin. From the tight set of the latter's jaw, it was clear that only one of them was having fun today. That had been the first sign of alarm to you – Seokjin didn't stress over situations that didn't really warrant it.

You'd greeted the two of them, formally, and listened to the younger go on and on about his experiences in some big shot university, abroad. The guy was either horrifically bad at reading the room, or he was way too cocky to care. In either case, you didn't think he made for an ideal candidate for the job Seokjin did.

Well, in your humble opinion, no one could ever handle the job like Seokjin did. But your opinion valued naught, here.

"Ma'am!" a subordinate had called out to you, barely ten minutes later.

"Yes?" you'd looked at his troubled face without letting your own distress show. 

"The – the votes are in. Mister Yi is asking for you."

You'd exhaled, tightly, and followed the guy to the burly man standing outside the closed doors of the meeting room.

That was where he'd delivered the news to you.

The votes had gone against Seokjin.