#is now here and is trying to babysit our father too

[scorpion-flower]

Oh, so my stupid and abusive parents and brother are fighting like crazy for the last couple of months, and my mother got up and left? Lol, see if I care.

[too-deviant]

strategic manoeuvre.

— WITH…ART DONALDSON!

contains...babysitter!reader, age gap, 18+ MDNI, art cheats w reader but it is lowkey implied that tashi planned the whole thing, car sex, semi-public sex, head (f receiving), p in v, unprotected sex, inspired by this post from @traumatrios

You had never been interested in tennis before Art. 

You weren’t interested in sports at all, really — you just wanted to buckle down and focus on your college work, earn some money with an easy part-time job. You didn’t have time to follow sports, or anything else. 

But then you got a call. You had been in the middle of a lecture when your phone buzzed against your notebook, a California number shining up at you and enticing you to pick up. Normally you would’ve let it go to voicemail, but you had recently gone around some of the fancier hotels in your city with flyers, asking for babysitting jobs and posting your number, so you excused yourself with a wave and took the call in the hallway. 

You didn’t know who Tashi Donaldson was when she introduced herself, but the hotel she’d asked you to come to later that night was fancy enough that you didn’t question it. You had done an extensive google search afterwards, of course, but simply raised an impressed brow at her repertoire. 

Then you met Art, her tennis player husband and the father of the lovely little girl you would be taking care of, and suddenly you were pretty interested in tennis. 

It started when Lily had a bad nightmare and you couldn’t get her down — well, it started when you met the guy, palm sweaty in his own as he introduced himself, but it didn’t really start until you had to put one of his old games on the TV for the girl to watch until she fell asleep at your side, tear tracks from her bad dream dry on her cheeks. 

You had been planning on carrying her back to her bed when she was down for the count, but you had been so fixated on Art’s movements; his determined look, his arms, his legs, that you ended up dropping out too. You woke up a few hours later with a blanket over your body and Art standing quietly at the kitchen island behind the sofa. 

“You looked peaceful. Didn't wanna wake you.” He’d said, sipping at his tea, and you knew you were done for. 

Now all of a sudden you had time to watch a tennis match in the morning, play one as background noise while you studied. You had started following his tennis journey right from the Junior Open in 2006 — you didn’t think you'd ever actually see him again, but you could fantasise about it whenever you remembered the smell of his cologne as he thanked you for taking care of Lily, promising a big tip would go straight into your account in the morning. 

(The money went in fifteen minutes after you’d left).

It came as a pleasant surprise when Tashi’s number popped up on your screen once more, a few months later. You had been in your kitchen, and took the call the moment you recognised the digits. 

“We’re a little ways out of town.” She’d said, “But Lily raved about you for days after last time, and we know you better than a stranger. If you can’t make it out here, don’t worry, but we still wanted to try our luck.”

We she’d said. As in her and Art. 

You cursed yourself for lusting after a married man in the uber to the hotel. 

From then on out, you became their primary babysitter. Since they travelled a lot, and Tashi’s mom was with them most of the time, you only really sat for them once every couple of months. The town you lived in was sunny and had a huge private sports centre for professional athletes — a fact you weren’t aware of until Art told you over a cup of tea — so they always came back. You were glad you could count on them coming back — it was like magic, the way your phone lit up with Tashi’s now saved contact whenever the late night bingeing of matches and interviews stopped fueling your infatuation. 

The guilt was almost enough to make you ignore it, say you were busy or just get a new number all together. But you never did. As much as you knew it was wrong, you always dropped what you were doing and drove to that cushy hotel where the receptionist knew your face and let you in with a smile. You travelled that same memorised route to the master suite, knocked on the door and made sure you were standing far enough away from the peep hole that you didn’t look weird and distorted when Art would look through before letting you in. 

It was always Art now. Tashi had greeted you a few times but lately it had always been him — a sick part of you thought she might’ve known about your crush on him, played with it for fun because she couldn’t play tennis anymore. But that was crazy, and you really needed to sort yourself out. 

You would greet him with a smile, push through the small talk, lean up against the kitchen island and watch his shirt stretch around the planes of his back as he made you coffee (On those unlucky days he would be wearing a shirt. Sometimes he would be just done with warm ups and physio and would answer the door half naked and covered in sweat. Those were the good days). Then Lily would come running at you from her room, hug you around your waist and pull you in to play; Art would laugh and grin at you, sliding the coffee cup in your direction and holding your eyes before heading to his room to get ready. 

You would be knee deep in headless barbies and chewed up polly pocket clothes when he and would return, dressed up and ready to go. He would lean down, kiss Lily on the forehead, and press his hand to your back in a silent goodbye. Then he would leave, and you would spend the whole day trying to pull yourself together. 

He was married. He was ten years older than you. He had a child, and was paying you to look after her. 

But he always made you coffee when you arrived — just how you liked it because he remembered. He always checked in on you, asked you how your life was while you nursed the mug that was warm from the beverage and his hands. He would tell Lily to behave for you because We like her, and we don’t want to scare her off. He would let his land linger on your back half a second longer every single time he left. 

But.

But Tashi was the one who would call you. She was the one who made you coffee the first time, told you it was the least they could do for you. She would walk out of her room with Art, smile at you and tell you how beautiful you look in that shirt. She would grin at you before leaving, waiting patiently by the door for her husband to take his hand off your back. 

You were evil. Truly. The guy was married. 

But as evil as you were, you always made sure there was an old game of his playing on the TV when they would return — because then Art would prompt you to stay and listen to him talk about it. And you would have an excuse to lean up against that island and watch him make tea while Tashi excused herself to bed. Hours would pass before he was checking his watch and hissing out an apology for keeping you so late, and then letting you leave. 

The first couple of times he’d simply make sure you got in your uber safely. Then he started calling cars himself, the same ones that would drive him and his family to and from matches, press events. The same sort of service celebrites used, not their babysitters. You didn’t mind — it was a thrill, listening to him ask the person behind the wheel to make sure you got back safely.

(The bar was under the court at this point, but at least you were aware of that).

But tonight was different. In more ways than one. 

In the beginning, all was the same. You were left sitting on the plush carpet of Lily’s room surrounded by lego pieces, a burning in your gut and guilt in your heart. You played doctor, you made dinner, ordered room service after her relentless begging, put on a movie, carried her sleeping form to bed, came back and watched Art play tennis until he returned. 

You had started to run out of games to watch, ones you hadn’t already seen, so settled for an old game from 2006. He was playing against his old partner, Patrick something, and you wondered where the lesser known second half of Fire and Ice had disappeared to after that night. 

Then Art came back, Tashi right behind him, and you smiled at them both over the back of the sofa. Tashi watched the game, something unfamiliar glinting in her irises, before blinking back at Art, “I’m going to bed.”

He responded a little slower, kissing her goodnight and looking back at you, “Tea? This game was one of my most memorable.”

“Even though you lost?” You teased, leaning against the marble. 

He paused, looking back at you. He blinked, “Yeah.”

You drank your tea. You pretended like you weren’t full of shame for standing that inch closer to him. You let him talk until he had nothing left to talk about, and watched him check his watch. You waited for him to pick up the phone and call the car — only he paused by the phone, hand floating just before it, and retracted his steps to the kitchen, “I’m gonna drive you back, if it’s not too much trouble. Saves waking up my driver.”

“Oh.” Your fingers twitched, and you told them to stop. “Sure, of course.” 

Art’s car wasn’t what you had expected. Thinking back on it, he didn’t seem like the sports car type, but his status and riches led you to assume you were about to get into one of the two seats in his Bugatti — you didn’t. The black jeep was expensive enough for someone like him, but close enough to home that you didn’t feel like an outsider climbing into the passenger seat.  

The drive wasn’t all that far — twenty minutes both ways, so Art would’ve been back before Tashi fell asleep if he hadn't pulled into a parking lot five minutes out. 

Your lips parted, eyes following his hands as they slid slowly off the wheel and into his thighs. His chest rose with a deep breath and his jaw constricted when he swallowed. Then he was looking at you, eyes piercing. 

“Lily likes you.”

You were unsure, feet shifting beneath you, the sound encasing the silence of the space and forcing you to stop and blink, “I’m glad. I like her.” 

“Tashi likes you.” 

You weren’t too positive that she would like you if she could feel how you were feeling now — that all too familiar heartbeat pulsing between your legs with every one of Art’s breaths. 

“I like you.” He finished, tilting his head until his temple rested softly on the headrest of his seat. His smile was almost taunting when he undid his seatbelt, “Which is your favourite?”

“What?”

“The games.” He clarified, knowing his question was too broad and that you would have to ask, “The ones you watch every time you’re over. The ones I assume you watch even when you aren’t sitting for us. My games. Which is your favourite?” 

“Oh. Um —“ Slightly distracted by the way he shed his jacket, dumping it in the backseat. He’d lent all the way forward to take it off and his eyes didn’t leave yours once. “I don’t know.” 

“The one you were watching tonight.” He asked then, “What’d you think of it? Honestly.” 

“Honestly?” You swallowed, mortified that you were even entertaining this, “You looked a little distracted.” 

He huffed a laugh, finally looking away and letting you breathe. It didn’t last long, because he was then getting out of the car and rounding the front of it. 

The breeze was cool when it hit you, Art blocking most of it from where he stood in the gap. His hand was still on the handle, but you were busy unbuckling your own seatbelt — the message had been received, you had crossed a line and he was kicking you out of his car. 

But when you turned, legs swinging carefully into the cold, his hand on your knee stopped you from really getting out. Your eyes snapped up to his, and you realised you had been caged — with one hand on the door and one hand on you, Art Donaldson had you right where you had been dreaming of him having you. It felt surreal. 

“My opponent. In the game from tonight.” He breathed, glancing around casually like you were having one of your simple conversations over tea. “He slept with my wife.”

Out of all the things… 

“What?” Your eyes darted between his, but the rest of your body otherwise remained still. Even when his hand on your knee travelled upwards. 

“He’d slept with her before. In college. We weren’t together then.” He was now watching his hand move, like he wasn’t the one moving it, “But then he slept with her again, in Atlanta. After I’d already married her.”

“Wow.” You breathed, mainly because it was the easiest word you could slide out of your mouth whilst holding your breath. His fingers reached your thigh, begged to dip between them. “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be.” He was quick to respond. Your legs parted on instinct, and at this point you had surrendered to being an awful person — although maybe you’d fallen asleep on the couch and this was all a dream. You didn’t think you’d be able to face Art if it was. You couldn’t even face him now. 

He took the newfound space for granted, stepping between your legs and holding them open with his body. His hand on the door followed him, taking its new place on your other leg. He rubbed up and down your thighs, but you couldn’t look away from his face. 

“I don’t want you watching him play.” He spoke lowly, tracing his fingertips around your waistband, “I’ve seen enough of his games.”

“Okay.” You didn’t hesitate to let out, swallowing the hungered saliva that had built up in your mouth. 

He unbuttoned your jeans, pulled the zipper down — painstakingly slow, but it allowed you time to brace your hands on the seat and the dashboard so you could raise your hips and let him slide them off you. 

You were stuck in your head, but Art didn’t seem to notice since he was too busy folding your jeans and hanging them over the open car door. You dared question it through a heavy breath but he just moved on to your panties, throwing them precariously on the dashboard and exposing your glittering cunt to his bright eyes. 

“We shouldn’t —“ It was a half-assed attempt at reconciling with your guilt, but the fact that you were half naked and spread eagle made it lose its meaning. 

Art shushed you, kneeling down so he was looking at your pussy, “We can, and we will.” Then he glanced back at you, brow arched, “Unless you don’t want to.”

Any sense of rationale had fucked off when he put his hand on your leg, so you swallowed and said, “I want to.”

He wasted no time, licking a thick stripe from your asshole to your clit. You knocked your head back with a gasped moan, bucking into him and hissing when the gear stick poked you in the back when you led back too far. 

You let out a shaky breath as he lapped you up, tongue dipping inside of you before travelling up to that sweet spot and sucking at it gently. You gasped and moaned, hands scrambling between holding yourself up and holding him down. His own were resting on your thighs — his calm and collected demeanour was a drastic contradiction from your own. 

His head nodded calmly between your legs, relaxed in its position — yours, shaky and tense all at once, neck bracing whenever you fell back. His hands tapped soft melodies on your skin whereas yours tightened around whatever was in their old, whether that be the leather of the seats or the blonde of Art’s hair. 

When he finally came up for air, his chin was coated in your slick, and he licked his lips clean before straightening up above you. You watched, paralysed, while he unbuckled his belt, threw it over the door with your jeans, and sent you a look under his lashes that you’d only seen him wear during his tennis matches. 

You had been keeping quiet earlier, but when he bottomed out inside you and started to piston, your mind went wild. Choruses of Oh my God and Fuck!, shouts of Art’s name and whimpers under your breath — it all came tumbling out and you couldn’t even try and stop it. 

Not that you wanted to; your vocality seemed to make him go faster, harder. It made him vocal, no longer calm and relaxed as he had been when eating you out, but loud and gruff. Grunts and moans you had dreamt about hearing outside of a television screen, now being huffed into the air you shared. 

You came with a whine and Art followed not long after, and you settled there for a moment — legs spread in his passenger seat with him standing between them — until you could muster up the strength to push yourself up. 

Five minutes later and you were both dressed, Art’s black jeep parked outside of your apartment building. You hadn’t exchanged any more words, but when you turned to slam the door once you had jumped out, you found his eyes on yours. 

“I have a game this weekend. Two hours out. Tashi wanted you to come. A gift, for all you’ve done for us.” 

(You went to the game. Art won. Tashi grinned like she’d made it happen and then offered to buy you a drink).

divider by @cafekitsune !!

[reareaotaku]

No Fun Babysitting

Summary: Greg's mother gets him and Manny a babysitter, because Rodrick is 'too busy' with Band practice, and she wants a reliable sitter while her and Frank go out. Though, Rodrick's plans change when he finds out who the babysitter is. Pairings: Rodrick x Fem! Reader [Since my Rodrick posts always tend to do well, here's another you Rodrick lovers!] God this probably so dumb lol. So sorry if it's bad lol

"A babysitter?" Greg looked at his mother like she was crazy. He was 13, he didn't need a babysitter! Maybe Manny, but certainly not him. "Why do I need a babysitter?"

His mother, Susan, finishes drying off a plate, before turning towards him, "Well, Rodrick," She gestures to Rodrick who was sitting at the dining room table eating a bowl of cereal, "has a gig and I need someone reliable to watch you and Manny while me and your father are out."

"Doesn't Gramma usually watch Manny?" Rodrick asked, since they had never offered to pay HIM to watch the kids.

"She's busy."

"Why can't I watch Manny?"

Susan laughs, causing Greg to frown and roll his eyes.

"Oh, Greg. You have not shown me you are responsible enough to care for a goldfish, much less your little brother. Besides, she's supposed to be really good, her name is Y/n."

Rodrick almost spit out his food when he heard the name of Y/n and he was very quick to clarify, "Y/n? Like Y/n L/n, Y/n?"

Susan hums, before rubbing her chin and nodding, "Yes I believe so."

"She's going to be here?"

"Why do you care?" Greg quick asked, suspicious.

"I don't," Rodrick quickly justifies, trying to cover up his previous excitement. He quickly gets up and heads to his room, completely forgetting about the food.

Susan and Greg watched as he left, while the latter grew suspicious.

---

"Thank you so much for coming at such late notice," Susan hands you Manny, who wiggled in her grasp.

"It's really no problem, Mrs. Heffley. I hope you and your husband have a good night out."

"Me, too," She jokes, before shaking her head, "Our numbers are on the fridge and if we don't answer, there's the number of the restaurant...."

You nod your head, listening as she goes on and on about safety and such. When she finally left, you waved her off before carrying Manny into the living room. "So, what do you like to do, Manny?"

Before he could answer, Rodrick quickly rushes in, his guitar hanging off his back. He was covered in sweat and his hair was dismayed/a mess. He pushes his hand through his hair, before looking at you in feigned confusion.

"Oh, Y/n right? I didn't know you were going to be here."

"What are you talking about? Mom sai-"

Rodrick quickly got his shoe and threw it at Greg, hitting him smack in the face. He [Rodrick] pushes inbetween you and Manny, leaning on his hand, "Hey."

"Hi?" You looked past him, towards Manny, who was pushing on Rodrick's back.

"What.. uh, brings you around?"

"Um... What do you mean?"

He turns to face forward , leaning back on his hands, "Uh, you know, ummm...." He clicks his tongue, before looking back at you, "You like music, right?"

"Everyone likes music."

"Right!" He stands up pointing to you, Manny finally looking relieved that Rodrick had moved from his spot.

Manny gets down from the seat and pulls out a puzzle from under the table. You watch him closely as Rodrick still continues to talk.

"I'm in a band, you should come listen."

"Uhuh... Band?" You now looked at him when registering his words.

"Oh, yeah. We're called the Loaded Diaper [Löded Diper]."

"Loaded Diaper?"

"Yeah."

"When you hear them, you'll understand the name," Greg jokes, before hiding under the table when seeing Rodrick's glare.

You look at Greg, before humming and nodding, "I see. Ummm... What kind of music do you guys play?"

"Rock."

"Oh, yeah, that makes sense... Um... Maybe I can come some time."

"Yeah, you should. Just let me know when you're free."

"Yeah, will do."

He walks away from the living room and out the front door, but not before fist bumping, thrilled to have a 'date' kind of.

[hunnieknight]

"You would be a good parent"(NO Art)

Their reactions when you told them that during babysitting.

You babysit the kid with them and they see the future with you

Klee Edition

Modern setting, broken grammar, reverse comfort, implied proposal, babysit Klee!!, GN reader, established relationship, fluff, reverse comfort, self-conscious if u squint, again BROKEN GRAMMAR

A/N : drafted before Sumeru debut

A/N (3rd Nov 2023) : i can't finish this , so i decided to just post it, go ahead if you want to continue it

A/N (11th Dec 2023) : yeahh was about to do Kaeya in here but i can't finish it

A/N (23rd March 2024) yeah im not gonna finish this with art, enjoy

Diluc

You and Klee were in the living room, Klee was just playing on the floor when Diluc appeared from the kitchen and gave Klee a grape juice.

You see how his eyes are full of love whenever he looks at Klee, and how he easily opens the grape juice bottle when Klee couldn't.

You watched as his muscular arms open the bottle cap carefully, knowing his arms strength can lift up 2 to 3 wine barrels at the same time, yet he still knows how to be gentle around children.

After confirming Klee can open the bottle and go back to playing on the floor, he took a seat next to you and sigh in relief.

"You are going to be a good dad."

You have never seen the composed and serious Wine Tycoon turn his head towards you that fast. He stared at you with wide eyes, which made you take aback and immediately apologize.

"Oh no...I'm sorry, I know family is a hard topic and I shouldn't ha-"

"You can see me as a father?"

You asked yourself 'is this man truly can't see him as one? the man you wished to have the future with. The man who seems to be able to take everything under control. The man who would drop anything for you... can't see himself as a father figure?'

The way you quickly engulf him in a hug, you don't know why but you think it's only the appropriate answer to that question

"Will i..ever be a good one?" He whispered.

"You will be the best" You whispered back and gave his ear a quick kiss. "WE...will be the best". You can feel strong arms hugging your back. You both enjoyed each other's comfort

"Can Klee join in too?" Oh yeah..she is still here.

______________________________

Jean

All of you were sitting down on the floor while helping Klee do her homework.

You can tell Jean's ears were already full of Klee's blabbering mess about how hard the homework is yet her voice was still soft but stern guiding Klee.

You watched her palm on top of Klee's little hand to guide her. You don't mind at all when she put 100% of her attention on Klee, seeing her parenting side when you mostly see her buried in paperwork feels like a fresh breath of air

"You would be a good mother"

She just nods along since she is so busy buried in Klee's homework.

"Does that mean you gonna marry Jean?"

Until she heard Klee ask that with glee then she recalled what you said and blushed.

"N-no, I mean, yeah I will, but not now, Klee" you tried to diffuse the situation after seeing Jean just hide her face in her arms.

"You don't know that" you heard Jean whisper. "You don't know if I will ever be a good mother."

Your gaze softens, and your hand reach out to hold hers "Then prove me wrong by being the mother of our child".

She still won't look at you, hiding her face in her arms. The only answer you get is a squeeze from both of your hands intertwining.

"Her face is red!" Oh..and Klee's exclamation from peeking into Jean's arm.

______________________________

Albedo

It was dinner time, and all of you were cooking for dinner, Albedo's speciality as the main dish and a snack for Klee, Fish-Flavored Toast, her favourite. Klee was trying to spread the butter on the toast, Albedo was cutting the onions and tomatoes for the sauce whilst you cut the fish for the other dish.

As you turn around to check on Albedo and Klee, the view you see warms your heart. Albedo softly guided Klee with that calm voice of his, he showed her how to spread it better with the motion of his hands so Klee can still do it on her own but also receive help. When Klee used too much butter, he suggested she put the excess butter on the next toast instead of scolding her. Overall, a very domestic view for you.

"My my, if I didn't know any better, I would've mistaken you for Klee's father instead" You said as you walked towards them. Albedo looked up to you "Well, you aren't the first one to say that" He pats Klee "I'm your brother right, Klee?" Klee looked up at him "The best brother!" She flashed both of you a big grin then continue with her butter. You approached him, closing in to whisper right in his ear.

"Yeah right, you'd fit best as the father of my children"

You waited for his reaction, you can't see anything change with his expression yet you can tell his body is tense. He turned his head to whisper back at you. You can tell he smirked just by what he said next.

"You smell like fish~"

Your face went red and just smack him playfully on his shoulder. "I just cut fish for your dish, ya know?" You turned around to wash your hands and didn't notice how Albedo clenched his chest on his heart area. The sounds of the water splashing from you washing your hands covered the sounds of him exhaling the breath he didn't realize he had been holding.

"Father of your children..." Oh, how he wanted to make that into reality.

"Big bro Albedo, why is the air spicy?" Oh yeah...he is still busy with Klee.

_____________________________

Rosaria

Rosaria wasn't part of your plan. You and Klee were just having a lunch picnic in the park. You were trying to stop Klee from feeding the pigeons with her bread until you heard a voice behind you.

"If you don't want to eat that bread you could've shared it with me instead." You turned around and see your girlfriend Rosaria standing and staring at Klee. Klee gleefully pats the seat next to her, inviting Rosaria to join the lunch.

The three of you spent the day talking and having lunch together. Rosaria told you that she was just having a walk when she heard your voice and Klee's. "Oh! That's amazing you can hear my voice from far away!" Klee makes a motion of 'far' with both of her hands. Rosaria smiled softly and touch Klee's nose playfully "Of course, someone needs to keep an eye on you, that's why I remembered your voice." Klee giggled and continued eating her meal.

Seeing the aloof Rosaria can warm up to a playful child like Klee. Even though she is awkward with kids you could see is trying. On your guys' way home from a picnic, you felt a tug on your sleeve. You turned around to see Klee wobbling and rubbing her eyes. "Are you tired? Want to get carried?" Klee just nodded and opened her arms, ready to get picked up. Before you get to pick her up Rosaria swiftly pick her up and adjust Klee in her arms. Before you could protest Rosa points at your picnic baskets and bags. "Your hands are already full, besides I'm pretty sure you won't last long carrying her."

"Well, I can trust you carrying our children around then."

Until you see Rosaria staring at you dumbfounded then you realized the weight of your words. "I- I mean- Uh..like..you know you are strong and such-and uhh- like-ugh..s-sorry..I should think twice before saying anything." You turned your head the other way, avoiding her gaze. Then, you felt a hand on your cheek, your gaze met hers again.

"Yes, i don't mind carrying them around."

She softly smiled at you. You could feel your heart skip a beat. The Rosaria in front of you seems different. Lovely and sweet.

"Only if you agree to be the one attending any student-parents meeting."

Oh there she is...this is the Rosaria that you love too.

[harunayuuka2060]

*In MC's estate*

MC's sister: DAD-!!! MC RUINED EVERYTHING FOR ME!

MC's father: Why are you saying that?

MC's sister: They came back and they're with Prince Leona! You promised me that I would be his wife!

MC's brother: *clears throat* Er, honestly speaking, father didn't say that.

MC's brother: His exact words were, "If you could seduce him, then he's yours".

MC's brother: You were the one who was too confident that you could pull a prince, haha!

MC's sister: Grr! Dad! Do something about this!

MC's father: What do you want me to do? MC's no longer part of our family.

MC's sister: They're just a commoner!

MC's brother: But~ Their baby is a noble~.

MC's father: ...

MC's father: Baby? What baby?

MC's brother: Oh? You didn't know? You're a grandpa now, father. But, hm, I think you already forfeited that right.

MC's father: ...

MC's father: You two, get out of my office.

MC's sister: What?! But Dad-

MC's father: Out.

MC's brother: Haha! Boo-hoo! Got rejected by a prince!

MC's sister: I'm going to kill you!

*After the two have left.*

MC's father: ...

MC's father: I have a grandson...? *looking happy*

*In the Royal Palace*

Cheka: *staring at MC; wants to hug them after not seeing them for quite some time*

MC: *pretends not to notice*

Falena and his wife: *smiling awkwardly*

Falena's wife: MC, how have you been?

MC: *looks at her* ...

MC: I'm doing great.

Falena's wife: !!!

Falena's wife: *looks relieved* I heard you are serving the Al Asim's. It must've been a difficult job.

MC: Not really.

Falena: So... Leona-

Leona: What?

Falena: I want to talk about the rooms here in the Royal Palace. Unfortunately, it seems that you have to share a room with MC and your baby. If that is okay?

Ruggie: Why? What happened with the other rooms?

Falena: Cheka here had caused, uhm, a little bit of accident in each room, trying to decorate them for your arrival...

Cheka: *staring at MC with sad, puppy eyes*

MC: ...

MC: *sigh* *extends their hand to him* Come here.

Cheka: Yay!!! *hugs MC* *nuzzles against them*

Ruggie: Bwahaha! *laughing at Liora's pouting expression when he sees Cheka hugging MC*

Falena: *chuckles* It seems your son gets easily jealous like you, Leona.

Leona: Shut up. Anyway, about the room we're going to share, make sure it has a crib.

Falena: Of course.

MC and Leona: *alone in the room; Baby Liora isn't with them since Falena and his wife volunteered to babysit him while they rest*

Leona: ...

Leona: Why the hell am I on the floor?

MC: *is in his bed* Decorum.

Leona: What- We used to sleep together!

MC: Not anymore.

Leona: *frowns*

Leona: *pulls MC off the bed to join him*

MC: !!!

MC: Do you want to die-

Leona: Heh.

Ruggie: OHOHO- LOOK AT THAT!

Ruggie: Damn! So you two just need alone time together! Shishishi!

MC: ...

MC: Alone time to murder him, that is. *tries to stand up, but Leona pulls them back*

Leona: You had your chances in Scalding Sands. *smirks*

MC: ...

MC: We're divorced. Act like it.

Leona: But I don't want to.

Ruggie: Ehem. Second baby, when?

MC: *sets Ruggie's tail on fire*

Ruggie: Owowow!

Leona: ...

MC: Do you want to be next, Leona?

Leona: *lets go of them*

[badasmuse]

“Homewrecker”

Bada Lee x Reader

Warnings: 18+ (MDNI), lowercase intended, language, cheater!bada, bottom!bada, bada is married to h*wl, bada has a daughter, top!reader, lonely bada, she also cries, appearance from itzy’s yuna

Summary: bada is lonely, you fix that.

Part 2 Here

you absolutely loved children. ever since you were fifteen when you started babysitting for your neighbor that’s when you knew. you actually wanted to start your own daycare but you wanted a degree so you decided to take a few online classes in early childhood education. but, going to college meant you need money for books and such so you never stopped babysitting. but your usual child’s father came back into her life making you jobless once again, so when you received a text from an unknown number stating she got your number from her friend you jumped with joy. and that’s how you started working for bada lee and her husband.

on your first day, you pull up to the extremely big house, you’re nervous. you keep thinking, what if i lose this kid in this big ass house.

there’s a tall woman and a slightly shorter male standing in the doorway holding a little girl. she looks about seven. you step out of the uber and approach the little family. “hi i’m y/n. i’m looking for ms. lee?”

“that’s me.” she steps out shaking your hand. “you can call me bada. this is my husband howl, not his real name but as a dancer it’s just what he goes by, and our daughter chaeyoung. come in.”

you follow the woman in and dude when i tell you this house is huge. you could probably fit three semi trailers stacked on top of each other in here. with the wheels still on and everything. you’re too busy admiring the house to hear what bada is saying.

“got that y/n?” is all you hear.

“huh? oh i’m… im sorry i was admiring your house i didn’t hear a thing. could you… repeat that?” you say shyly.

“oh no problem. this is a list of people you can call if you can’t get in touch with either of us. always try lusher first she’s my best friend she’ll always be able to get ahold of me. i’ll be out at the studio a lot this month because i’m choreographing a few comebacks and howl is getting ready to go to japan to teach some classes. i will be back around nine tonight. here’s chae’s bedtime routine. she’ll try to stay up past eight thirty, if she fights let her because she’ll fall asleep in the next five minutes. you can just lay a blanket over her on the couch and i’ll carry her to the room when i come back. is that too much at one time?” bada asks after literally vomiting a shit ton of information.

“no no i think i got it all. also, if you’re gonna be dancing, i don’t mind carrying her to her room. you’ll be tired and probably want to shower, i can handle it.” you say smiling.

“if you can i’d appreciate it. oh we have to go. chae you be good for y/n okay? i mean it.” bada says crouching in front of the girl who just nods in response before hugging her mother tight and hugging her father’s leg.

soon, it’s just you and her. boy did she give you a run for your money. you did lose her in the house while playing hide n seek. she made you play dress up with her. she took your phone and hid it, spilled apple juice everywhere, and even went into her parent’s room and took one of her mom’s lipsticks.

by now it’s eight thirty and she surprisingly went to bed without an issue, which you were grateful for because now you have to clean the mess in the kitchen and living room.

“hi i’m home.. y/n?” you hear bada say.

“kitchen!” you respond.

“what.. happened?”

“oh she spilled apple juice. this- here. she took this from your room. um, do you mind calling my phone?” you mumble.

bada sighs and goes into a room before coming out with your phone in hand. “i’m sorry she did this to the last babysitter, and the one before. if you don’t want to continue just let me know okay?” she says helping you clean the apple juice.

you look up at her and see the sweat dripping down her face, the tired look in her eyes. she’s obviously struggling. “what time should i be here tomorrow?”

her eyes light up and she smiles brightly. “um, same time okay? it’ll just be me and her, my husband will be gone early.”

“i’ll be here. go shower. i’ll finish up and make my way out of here.” you pick up the used paper towel, throwing it in the garbage.

thirty minutes later she emerges from the bathroom dressed in a new pair of sweats and a tank with her wet hair flowing down her back.

“i’ll get your uber home. can you put your address in here?”

*

now it’s been four months and man, the feelings you feel towards this woman are crazy.

“she’s just so.. fine, yuna.” you say to your best friend. “when she comes home from the studio and she’s dripping with sweat. you know how hard it is to not jump on her?”

yuna laughs, “isn’t she married?”

“yes but… come on. her husband is never really there. she’s always tired and probably sexually frustrated. i could fix that for her for real.” you say taking the drink from her.

“that’s mine.” she sighs, “well are you gonna go for it?”

“i don’t know, should i? what if i get fired?” you say.

“then you get fired. come on i’ll drop you off. it’s almost time.”

once you arrive at the house, you knock and wait, watching yuna pull off. bada opens the door and looks at you surprised. “y/n? what are you doing here?”

you blink, “it’s.. saturday?”

“oh! oh i’m so sorry. first come in.” she steps to the side, “i’m sorry, chaeyoung is with her grandmother for today. i thought i told you. probably forgot i was doing so much this morning. i feel so bad you probably ubered here, let me pay you for that and i’ll get you one back.”

“my friend dropped me off. i can ask her to come get me.” you say sending a quick text to yuna.

“well have you eaten? let me get you something.” she says.

“i’m okay i’m not hungry.” at least, not for food.

“well.. here’s a water bottle. i’m so sorry.”

“it’s okay bada. my schedule is open.” you look at the reply from yuna and sigh. “actually could you get the uber? my friend is busy, she won’t be able to come get me for at least an hour or so.. unless you don’t mind me waiting?”

“i don’t mind. i actually wanted to talk to you about chaeyoung.” she says sitting next to you.

“what is it?”

“i’m not too sure what you’re doing but.. she used to be terrible in school, behavior wise, and ever since you came along it’s changed. what are you doing with her? what can i do to make sure she doesn’t act that way once you get your degree and stop working for me?” bada sighs, leaning back on the couch.

“bada,” you turn your body to face her, “the issue with chae is you don’t give her enough attention. i know both you and howl work a lot. it happens. but she tells me all the time how she wishes at least you were here more often. she’s lonely. it’s only her and you stick her with a bunch of strangers. she told me she feels happy when i’m here because even tho i’m leaving, i still make her happy because i’m giving her the attention she craves.”

bada wipes a tear from her cheek, “i try. it’s just hard. i want to be here. then howl took that stupid job traveling to different countries like he doesn’t have a wife and child at home. i feel like i’ve been snapping at her which is why i sent her with her grandmother. i wanted to.. be with my husband and he’s not even here he went to america. i wanted to talk to him about this.”

you pull bada in for a hug and rub her back as she cries into your shoulder. “you’re doing the best you can, bada. you can’t be too hard on yourself. howl should’ve thought about that before he left. he needs to understand you need help.” you say softly.

bada pulls back and looks at you, “you really think i’m doing my best?”

“i do.”

there’s a tension filled silence as you look at each other. you don’t know what fueled you but you lean in and kiss her on her lips before pulling back quickly. “oh shit i’m sorry you’re married-“

she cuts you off with another kiss gripping your shirt. this one is a lot more desperate. “please…” she mumbles against your lips. “i need this please.. please don’t go.” she whines.

“your room.” you say and she stands up pulling you into the bedroom she shared with howl.

she pushes you on the bed and climbs on top of you finding your lips again as your hands trail under her shirt. you pull it off her and she whines.

“relax baby, i’ll make you feel good, just be patient.” you turn her on her back kissing her neck and down to her chest. lifting up her bra you attach to her nipple, sucking gently and she moans. you pinch the other one with your fingers and her hips buck up against you, looking for friction.

“keep your hips down.” you whisper, kissing down her stomach. you leave marks on her hip bones and she moans your name.

“y/n please… please i want you so bad!” she writhes on the bed.

you pull her shorts off and she’s not wearing anything under them. “made this easy for me huh? oh you’re so wet for me bada.” you run a finger over her clit and her leg jerks. you put her leg on your shoulder and make eye contact with her. “can i?”

“please y/n please do- OH!” she moans out when your tongue makes contact with her clit. her hands clutch the sheets as you suck on her clit, sticking two fingers in her.

her breath hitches and she lets out loud moans, “oh my god s-so good! please more!”

you insert another finger curling them up into her spot. she lets out a squeal. “why are you so good at this?” she moans, hands going to your hair as she fucks herself onto your fingers. “i’m cumming!”

you speed up your fingers, flicking your tongue skillfully and she cums with a scream, your name falling off her lips.

you pull your hand out giving her a minute to breathe. “you okay?” you run her lower stomach gently.

“i need… more. please? i have.. have toys in my sock drawer.” she pants.

you walk over to where she points and find a different array of toys. “oh you’re kinky.”

“please use whatever you want. make me your slut. please.” she whines.

you bite your lip, grabbing the dildo, a vibrator, and some handcuffs. “you mind?”

“oh please!” she moves her hands to the headboard, letting you cuff her to it. “i-i can eat you out while you fuck me. you can sit on my face.”

you shiver at the thought before stripping and doing what she wants. her tongue skillfully explores you and you question how she let a man trap her with a tongue like that? you lean forward and put the dildo in her, immediately thrusting it in and out of her while putting the vibrator on her swollen clit. she moans into you and pulls at the cuffs. you’re worried she might be uncomfortable so you lift up but she whines loudly. “i’m not finished!”

you sit back down, thrusting the toy faster and turning up the speed on the vibrator. you let out a moan trying not to grind on her face. you move when she starts to mumble something.

“what did you say baby?”

“use me. use me to get yourself off. make me your personal tuck toy.” she moans out.

you moan as you move back onto her face doing as she asks all while you fuck into her tight count with the dildo. you’re close and you know she’s close from the way her moans get higher. she latches onto your clit sucking roughly as you pound the dildo into her gspot and you’re both cumming with loud moans. you remove the toys and she squirts all over her bed. you get off her and rub her clit, helping her ride out her high.

“okay! okay i’m done i can't…i’m done please!” she moans pulling the cuffs.

“give me one more. let me make sure you’re 100% satisfied. you might not get it this good for a while.” you whisper.

she whimpers and cums one last time, her juices flow out of her and you caress her thigh gently.

“so good for me bada. did such a good job.” you uncuff her and she pulls you in for a kiss. you can taste yourself on her tongue.

“thank you.” she whispers. “i needed that. god i needed that.. tell your friend nevermind. stay with me.”

“what about your husband? and chae?” you ask.

“he’s gone for a week, chae will be back tomorrow night. after i take a nap i want to go again.” she groans, turning on her side.

grabbing your phone, you tell yuna to just bring your backpack that has your strap instead and you lay down next to bada. she immediately moves her head onto your chest and sighs, falling asleep.

that was a lot easier than you thought it would be.

[enviedear]

i've been going solo now ⟶ ben solo

description ⌙ when you get a distress signal from your dad and his life-long goon you're quick to try and come to their rescue. only problem? so is ben solo.

pairing ⌙ smuggler!ben solo x f!reader

warnings ⌙ childhood crush/frenemies turned adults with horrible communication skills, reader is the daughter of lando (biologically or not you decide), ben is a jerk, reader is a brat, petty arguments, forced proximity trope, inner conflict all the time, han and lando are just two pals getting into serious issues that their kids have to fix don't mind them (they're just mentioned), most likely incorrect knowledge of the falcon & starship parts, smuggler!ben solo au because that's canon to me, ben calls reader kid (affectionate, kinda), typos probabaly

word count ⌙ 4.1k

— request | masterlist

i just think ben solo is very much solo by future coded and i wanted to write about smuggler!ben and his smug attitude. special thanks to @crucifiedfaerie for letting me gush over this idea constantly in our dms <3

you never had the stomach for killing— the thought of it or the act itself. the notion of ending someone's life has always been abhorrent to you, leaving a sour sensation in your mouth that lingers long after the deed is done. but right now, you sit, filled with a growing and seemingly unstoppable rage that practically demands blood.

"don't even think about jumping into hyperspace, solo!" your voice is loud but erratic.

the black-haired man piloting the ship gives you a side eye, "and waste hours getting there? sure thing, kid."

you grip the co-pilot seat as hard as possible as he sends the absolutely geriatric ship into lightspeed. the force of it sends your head back onto the headrest, and you screw your eyes shut until the motion of the ship stills.

you've been flying with ben solo on the millennium falcon for a day and a half now, and this isn't even the first time you've wanted to kill him.

no, you'd harbored a hatred for ben solo for as long as you could remember. when you were little your father frequently left you in the care of the organa-solo's. any trip too risky for you to follow him on had you spending time on chandrila han and leia— and ben.

he was a few years older than you and so insufferable - spoiled rotten and full of mischief. the two of you would inevitably end up in scuffles over something, whether it be who got to shower first or which holovid show to watch. you often wondered how your father, han, or leia had managed to handle both of you. a hardheaded pair of troublemakers that needed little excuse to start bickering with one another.

but beneath it all, there had been another layer to your complex relationship with ben solo. even though you feigned anger whenever near him, deep down there had been an admiration growing since those early days spent together. your naive heart fluttered when he would absentmindedly flash his ever-present smirk in your direction. but you'd never admit or act upon any such feelings.

naviagting your crush had been difficult at first. especially having lando calrissian as a parent. you were forced to spend weeks around the source of your teen angst because of your father.

what use is a dad that can sweet-talk a jablogian if he can't fix your unwanted crush on his best friend's son.

you've cursed at his image in your mind every time you look at your ridiculous companion. if not for him, you wouldn't be with ben right now— you'd have never had the displeasure of his company.

you got away from the young solo, and most everyone else, for a good five years, hopping from planet to planet, picking up any honest work. which usually meant boring work— factory jobs, service stuff, a few instances of babysitting.

your life without ben solo is predictable and a little boring.

but you'd rather be bored than deal with the recklessness that becomes your life every time you see the smuggler.

but here you sit beside him, forced to spend an unknown amount of days with him until the both of you find your idiotic fathers.

you had gotten a rouge comm-link message from your dad just days ago. he sounded fine, voice still leisurely and warm, but it was his words that were worrisome, "han's got us in a bit of trouble, little star. would you mind coming to help your old man out? we're somewhere in the trilon sector— i'd try batuu first!"

when you got the message, your mind had gone into autopilot. you had rushed to comm leia, which had been a fatal mistake, as she had ordered her son to pick you up and accompany you. so now you're here, stuck with ben solo and his frightening flying.

"you know, dad should have warned me i'd be flying with a coward." ben's lips are curved into a grin, as usual with his teasing.

you whip your head in his direction, eyes ablaze, "well my father should have warned me that you've gotten even more annoying, somehow."

ben narrows his eyes, a stupid smirk still plastered to his face, "whatever you say, kid."

you feel your blood go hot, why he decided to start calling you kid, you didn't know, but you do know you hate it.

ben's barely your senior, only twenty-three years of age in comparison to your twenty. besides he behaves like an out-of-hand teen away.

"stop calling me that." you groan.

ben chuckles, "aw, what's the matter, kid? tired of following orders already?"

you grit your teeth, the way he talks down to you will forever get under your skin, "i don't take orders from you, solo."

"sure you do. you're on my ship, remember?" ben retorts, his eyes focused on the coordinates displayed to his left.

you cross your arms over your chest, "we're supposed to be working together to find han and my father and get them out of trouble, not bickering like children."

ben rolls his eyes, "it's not my fault you're so uptight."

you take a deep breath, trying to calm yourself down. you can't afford to lose your temper and start a fight, not when you're relying on him to get you to your destination safely. so, you force a smile, "look, can we just be civil? we're both here because we care about our dads and want to help them."

ben's expression softens a little, "fine. but if you start nagging at me again, i can't promise i won't call you kid."

you roll your eyes, "deal. now, can you tell me more about what's going on? my dad was pretty vague in his message."

ben hums, "same with mine. all i know is that lando got mixed up in some kind of shady deal, and now he's in trouble with a gang of criminals called the ninth sun. my mom's been trying to negotiate with them, but they're not ones to bend the knee."

you groan, "of course not. what's the plan?"

he shakes a stray black strand of hair from his eye, "no plan, just find them and go from there."

"lovely, that's totally going to work," you bite your lip, "oh and, it was han who made the sketch deal, not my dad."

ben shrugs, "and who told you that?" he rests his elbow on the armrest and brings his hand to his chin, "lando?"

you clench your fists, "let's just focus on finding them. no need to dwell on the semantics."

ben glances at you and for a moment, you swear there's a flicker of something in his eyes. something other than his usual teasing, mischievous demeanor, but it's gone as quickly as it came and he turns back to the console.

the ship hums steadily beneath you, and the silence between you two stretches on, broken only by the occasional beep from the controls. you fidget in your seat, uncomfortable with the unfamiliar hush. you've never been around ben so long without saying anything, and you're about to speak up before he interrupts you.

"we'll have to make a pit stop, i need to refuel." his voice sounds tired.

you nod, "alright. any nearby planets we can stop at?"

ben checks the navicomputer, "yeah, there's one a couple of light years away. i've been there before, it's not too bad."

"okay solo, lead the way." you say, leaning back in your seat.

as he pilots the ship toward the destination, you can't help but study him from the corner of your eye. he's changed since the last time you saw him. the boy who used to pull your hair and steal your toys has grown into a man. he's lean and toned with longer hair, still as sable black as ever. it falls into his eyes, despite how much he wills it not to, giving him a slightly disheveled look that you can't help but find attractive.

you rue the thoughts plaguing your own mind.

the embarrassment you used to feel over your crush has come back ten-fold. the feeling shocks you. he's trying to act all suave and mature, but you know deep down that he's still the same old ben who annoyed the life out of you. you can feel the familiar tug in your heart every time he speaks, and you know he can't have changed much over the years. not when he's making you feel just like you're fourteen again.

but there is something different about him now. maybe it's the way he pilots the ship with ease– no longer the boy who'd cover his ears ar take off, or maybe it's just the way his muscles flex under his tight-fitting shirt. he's almost mesmerizing.

it's clear that he's been doing this for a long time, navigating the stars all alone with nothing but his shitty attitude and perfect hair. you find yourself marveling over him, sure and smooth, his hands deftly moving over the controls.

ever the realist, you try to shake off the feeling, but it's proving difficult. you feel a strange urge to preserve your current addiction.

as you watch him fly, you feel a fixation building within you. it's a sentiment you haven't felt in years, not felt since the last time you saw him.

you try to push the feeling down, knowing that it's not the time to have those kinds of thoughts. you're supposed to be focused on finding your fathers and not getting killed by some lethal syndicate, not lusting after your childhood nemesis.

you feel wrong stealing glances at him, trying to understand what's changed and why you're feeling this way. you're towing a dangerous, line. especially if those feelings are inspired by ben organa-solo.

finally, after what feels like hours, you arrive at the refueling station. as soon as ben lands the ship, you stretch your legs inside the falcon, looking out at the new scenery. the planet is bathed in the evening light, and the scene around you is wide awake. the station itself is a bustling hub of activity, with all kinds of alien species milling about.

ben leads the way to the fueling station, where he begins filling up the ship's tanks. you stand by the ship's entrance, people-watching. your eyes find ben's figure again, and you let them stall. when he looks your way, you advert your gaze and step out of the falcon, swiftly approaching him.

the evening air is cool as it hits your skin. this planet is a strange one, with vibrant purple plants and thick, white fog swirling around. but you don't pay too much attention to it, your eyes are locked on ben.

he's leaning against the ship, checking over the fuel meter with a frown on his face. you walk over to him and clear your throat, expecting to get his attention.

he looks up at you, eyes meeting your own. you feel your heart skip a beat, and you curse yourself for being soft for him.

"you know, you didn't have to follow me out here." he mumbles, hand coming to brush the hair from his eyes.

you hum, "i didn't have anything better to do."

he ignores you and looks back at the fuel gauge, his eyebrows furrow, "i found something for you to do." his voice is monotone, but you're all too familiar with the subtle cut of annoyance within.

"what does that mean?" you own voice comes out a bit too anxious.

ben groans before looking at you, "one of the damn tanks has a leak— i told chewie to fix that weeks ago." he follows up his words with a few curses before kicking the faulty gas tank.

you roll your eyes, "can't we just get another one? i'm sure if we go inside someone would know where we could get another one."

"the problem isn't finding one," he tsks at you, "the problem is that this tank has been leaking fuel into the beacon finder. without that, we're never finding our dear old dads."

your heart sinks. you had been so sure that you would find your dad quickly, but now it looks like that might not be the case. "so, what do you suggest we do?" you ask, crossing your arms over your chest.

"i'll have to fix the beacon," he sighs, "luckily i have the tools for it, but i need to find one more part, and with the sun setting soon…" he trails off, letting his silence complete the sentence for him.

you take in a deep breath at his implication. you can tell what he is suggesting without explicitly stating it.

you will be stuck on this planet with him tonight and forced to share the same cramped room. you thank god for separate cots, at least.

you try to ignore the warmth creeping up your ears, but you know that it's a losing battle. you haven't shared a room with ben solo since you were kids, endless unwilling sleepovers at each other's houses. but those instances were filled with innocent pranks and arguments, not the tension and longing glances you've found yourself giving him.

"alright," you say, trying to keep your voice even, "we'll just get the part and fix the beacon. the faster we fix this, the faster we can find our fathers and get back to our lives." you move towards the entrance of the fueling station, wanting to put space between you and ben.

"you mean so you can get back to your life." he calls out to you, and you look back at him only to be met with contempt in his brown eyes, "the one where you avoid me."

you give him a sharp eye roll before making your way toward a small gaggle of vendors, much more interested in finding this part. ben follows closely behind you, and you can feel the weight of his stare on the back of your head.

you're at a loss as to why ben solo would ever care that you've been avoiding him for the last five years. the ben you remember would've never batted an eye. when did that change?

you find a vendor selling the part that ben needs, and you both split the payment before heading back to the falcon. ben sets to work on the beacon, and you sit nearby, supposedly looking over the coordinates but mostly watching him work.

there's an abnormal sense of calm that fills you as you watch him. concentration is etched on his face, lips bitten bright red. you can't help but admire him, not for the sake of not trying.

you're brought back to reality when he starts cursing under his breath, "what's wrong?" you ask, moving closer to him.

"this damn thing won't budge," he grunts, trying to pry apart two pieces of the beacon.

you move to his side, peering down at the device. his breath is hot on your cheek, and you feel an urge to shiver. trying to focus on the task at hand you take a few breaths.

your eyes keep drifting to his lips, the way they move when he curses. you shake your head, trying to clear the inappropriate thoughts from your mind. "let me help," you offer, reaching for one of the tools he's using.

he hands it to you, and you lean in closer, your sides pressed together as you work the tool. you can feel his heat exuding into you, a warmth that isn't just from the planet's humid air. you try to focus, but it's becoming increasingly difficult. every time he moves, you catch a whiff of his scent, musky and rich, and your mind starts to wander to places it shouldn't.

finally, after what feels like an eternity, the piece pops free, and ben lets out a sigh of relief. he turns to you, a small smile on his face, and you can't help but smile back. his eyes lock onto yours, and suddenly, the air between you is charged with something foreign.

you let your tone come out sardonic, "looks like i saved the day. you're welcome, solo."

ben tilts his head, eyes narrowing, "you're a brat, kid."

"i thought i told you to stop calling me that." you want to hit him.

"i said i had a condition," he pauses, arms coming to either side of you, palms pressing into the falcon's floor, effectively trapping you against him, "a condition you just broke. so you're back to kid, kid."

you feel your resolve slipping, "you're the worst. you always have been, and i can see now that will never change."

he has the audacity to let out an amused breath, "if you're going to say shit like that, at least mean it."

your brows furrow, "pardon me? as if i don't mean that."

his hands creep from the ground and to your hips, you gasp as he pulls you in closer. if he were anyone else, you'd expect him to kiss you next, but he's not anyone else. so instead, he cranes down and whispers in your ear, his breath hot against your skin. "i know you want me," he growls, his fingers digging into your clothed flesh. "don't act like you don't,"

you're completely caught off guard, and before you can respond, he's pulling away from you and grabbing the beacon. you watch in silent horror as he makes for the falcon's exit, leaving you confused on the floor.

you sit there, rooted to the spot, your mind and body in turmoil. you know if you follow him you'd just be throwing yourself into a petty or embarrassing altercation.

what did he mean by that anyway? how could he possibly know?

taking a steadying breath, you turn away from your seat and make for the other side of the ship. you need to keep yourself busy until nighttime, and you know that there's some maintenance to do on one of the storage bays. when you get there, however, it's already been taken care of. your fists clench in frustration as you realize ben must have done it earlier.

you start searching around the ship for any other tasks that might help keep your mind off things and pass the time more quickly- checking cords, tidying up shelves or going through supplies lists so nothing gets low.

the hours seem to stretch on endlessly despite how much work you manage to do, and all too soon darkness begins to fill the sky outside of the cockpit windows. with a heavy sigh, you head back towards where you and ben had been working earlier. he's back now, tinkering away with the beacon as if nothing had ever happened between the two of you earlier— as if his words hadn't sent a tremble down your spine and confused the emotions tumbling through your mind.

you catch an expectant glance from him when he finally notices your presence. you're sure he's expecting you to say something to him. maybe he wants you to yell.

you don't say anything though, instead offering only a terse nod before checking the endless cords around you.

your fingers move quickly and expertly over the tangled cords, your mind too preoccupied to focus on anything else. but you can feel his gaze on you, burning through the back of your skull like a branding iron. his presence is suffocating and you know that if you don't get a handle on your emotions soon, you'll combust.

eventually, you're so lost in thought that you almost miss the soft footfalls approaching you. you turn to see ben standing beside you, his eyes locked onto yours. the air between you is thick with strain, unspoken words, and feelings. there are so many things you want to say to him, but you don't know where to begin.

"so," his voice breaks through the silence like a blaster shot. "when are we going to talk about it?"

you hear the depth in his baritone voice and it's all you can do to keep your face neutral, your thoughts collected, "talk about what?" you ask, even though you know perfectly well what he's referring to.

"about me and you," he says, voice low but insistent, "or we can just keep ignoring it. the tension seems to be getting us pretty far."

your expression shifts as you take in his words, the longing that had been coiled in so tightly before now coming to the surface. you can feel yourself flustering under the intensity of his watch but you refuse to look away, instead lifting your chin higher and narrowing your eyes.

"there is no us, solo," you say firmly, though your voice is riddled with a hint of something else entirely, "there never has been, and never will be."

ben seems unfazed by your words, his eyes steady and intense. "you say that," he says, his voice softening. "but i know you better than anyone else. and i know there's some part of you that actually likes me. i bet it pisses you off, doesn't it?"

he's right— it does piss you off that your heart can't seem to let him go. no matter how annoying you find him, he's beautiful and confident. and he does know you better than anyone. he knows what buttons to press and how hard. with ben, there's always the thrill of how perceptive he is— that he can see through the walls of anger and indifference you try so hard to build up around yourself.

you can feel your will crumbling under his words, your heart throbbing in your chest, but still, you push back, "even if there is something there, solo," you say, your voice shaking slightly, "it doesn't change anything. we're two different people living two very different lives."

ben smirks, "you don't know anything about my life."

you let your eyes roll, "as if the life you lead is some kind of mystery," you take a deep breath, "i mean, what's to know? you fly alone, smuggle, and rack up credits. that's your life, solo."

he hums, right hand finding a home beside your head on the wall, "you know me so well, kid. you should write a book."

you feel inexplicably hot, "maybe i will. a long book of all the reasons you piss me off."

he doesn't respond, just looks down at you for an uncomfortable amount of time. he pushes himself from the wall and you, twisting and letting his back hit the durasteel wall. his face is turned to you, eyes downcast.

"you know," he says finally, breaking the silence, "i remember when we were kids, it was always you who used to be the one to instigate. you probably don't remember it that way, but i do, and i loved it. you never hesitated. you were fearless."

you look at him incredulously, wondering what this has to do with anything. but he continues, "you were the only girl that would play with me, and not just that, the only one that could beat me. but then one day you just stopped. you ignored me completely."

you stiffen, unwilling to admit even through body language that he might be right. a pre-teen you found avoiding your ben sized crush the most viable option. you just never thought he'd care.

he continues, eyes unwavering from yours, "you used to look at me like i was the only person that mattered. and then, you just stopped. it's was like… like you had something to hide."

it's like he can read your mind because he reaches out and grasps your wrist in his hand. his touch is nice against your skin, sending a comfortable feel through your veins.

"i miss you, the girl who wasn't afraid of liking me," he whispers, his voice low and husky. "and i want you to admit that you miss me too."

you struggle to find words, to make sense of everything inside of you, but before you can speak, his lips are on yours. his kiss is hot and demanding, and instinctively lean into him, body melting against his in perfect harmony. his hands slide around your waist and hold you close as the kiss deepens, and you can feel all of the frustrations of the past slipping away. when he finally pulls back, his eyes are bright with emotion and a hint of a smile graces his lips.

he looks down at you for a moment before speaking in a low voice, "you want me to do that again?" he steps closer to you and cups your face in his hands, his eyes twinkling with amusement. you can feel the warmth radiating from his body and if it weren't for his strong arms around you, you would have melted into a puddle.

you nod slowly in agreement, too lost in the moment to say anything else. he leans down and brushes his lips against your cheek before pulling away completely, "then be honest. right here, right now. you like me."

you screw your eyes shut, basking in the shame of being found out, "i like you, solo. i like you a lot, but if you don't get off your pedestal and kiss me again i'll withdraw the opportunity."

he gazes down at you with an expression that's tender yet mischievous all at once. "i like you too," he whispers before chuckling lightly, you open your eyes to see.

his dimples are on full display, and for a second, he's the spirit of the little brat you fell in love with all those years ago. "c'mere, kid." his voice is soft as he pulls you back into him, lips meeting yours.

[wordstome]

kingdom come - ii

king König x princess & assassin reader

2nd person, no y/n, she/her pronouns, afab reader, romance, enemies to lovers, arranged marriage, kind of age gap because König has been king for a good chunk of time but it's not really much of a factor, fantasy/medieval setting

4.4k words

tw: none

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Let's have something lighthearted and playful after the absolute Week the cod fandom has had, shall we?

“What do you mean he’s letting you kill him?”

“I don’t know what you want from me, Calliope, I thought I made myself quite clear.”

“But…but that’s mad!”

“He is mad!” You shove the sleeves of your blouse over your arms. “But I’m still alive, so I’m not complaining.”

“Of course. Should I send word to your father about these new developments?”

You bite your lip. “No,” you say. Something catches your eye outside the window, and you move closer to have a look. König is outside, walking with one of his advisors while eating an apple. It’s a strange juxtaposition between the relaxed boyishness of him throwing the apple in the air and catching it, and the stark, emotionless expression of the mask covering half his face.

As if he can feel your gaze on you, he looks upwards, eyes locking with yours. You shudder and quickly shut the curtains.

“I can do this.” You say, determined.

“You’re not eating.”

You stare resolutely at him from across the table. “I’m not hungry.”

He sighs, as if you’re a difficult child he’s being forced to babysit. “I heard your stomach growl. The food won’t bite back.”

“To be frank, I don’t know if I can trust you.”

“Who the fuck is Frank?”

You glower at him. “I know this is all a game to you, but I’m trying to stay alive.”

“By not eating?”

You look down at the food dubiously, and your doubt must be written all over your face, because König laughs. “Surely you do not think so lowly of me that I would poison my bride at the breakfast table,” he taunts. “That wouldn’t be in the spirit of the hunt.”

“You’ll have to forgive me for presuming otherwise of the man who asked me to eat a nightshade berry.”

He rolls his eyes. “One berry can’t kill a full-grown man. Or woman.” He takes a sip of wine. “And besides, that wasn’t the point of our little encounter in the garden anyway.”

Your hunger wins out over your apprehension. “Enlighten me,” you say, tucking into the food.

“Isn’t it obvious? I was testing you to see if you were going to try and kill me.” He points a fork with a piece of sausage on it at you. “Quiet, secluded place with nobody watching, plenty of exits. You surprised me by staring at me like a startled doe.”

“You caught me off guard,” you mutter. “You’re a very off-putting person.”

He gives you a bemused look. “You’re not a very good assassin.”

You bristle. “I assure you, if my target was anybody else, they would already be dead.”

“Tell me, princess. Have you ever killed anybody?”

“I’ve killed.”

“A human.”

“I know how to kill someone!”

“So that’s a no.”

You’re fuming at this point, your meal long forgotten. “It’s not to my advantage to let you know what I can and can’t do.”

He studies you, twirling his fork in an admittedly mesmerizing motion. “And your father sent you here, to kill me, having never spilled another person’s blood before.”

“My father prepared me my entire life for this.”

“Not sure that speaks highly of your skill.”

You’re already tired of him. “What’s the point of this?” you demand. “A smarter man would have either killed me or thrown me in a cell by now.”

“Not a smarter man, a boring one,” König corrects.

“So you have a death wish.”

“Of course not. I have much to live for. Eating, killing, fucking. Great fun. But not enough on its own.” His grin is near wolfish as he stares you down.

“You are vile.”

“You could be doing something about that.”

You look at him in mortified disbelief. “I’m not going to sleep with you.”

“I was referring to killing me, but it is interesting that’s where your mind went first.” He looks entirely too pleased with himself, as if he’s caught you in a clever trap.

“Fuck you.”

“Now we’re talking!” He stands up, and for one fleeting moment, you fear he’s about to make good on the offer, but instead he just wipes his mouth and makes to leave.

“As much as I’ve enjoyed this little bout of verbal sparring, I have somewhere to be.”

“You seem in quite a rush to leave my presence, for a man who seems so convinced I won’t be able to kill him.” If he wants to be a smart little asshole, you can too.

“Ah, believe me, princess. I would like nothing more than to spend all day in your lovely, murderous presence. But unfortunately, I have responsibilities.” He runs a hand through his tousled hair, and you studiously ignore the way your stomach flips a little at the motion. “I’m obligated to hear petitions.”

You stand up. “I’m coming with you.”

“Why? It’s fucking dull.”

“So I can have more opportunities to kill you.”

“Yes. Of course.” Again with that smile. You’ve never met anyone half as pleased to be in your presence as he is. (The only exception is Calliope, but she kind of has to be near you.) This man simply refuses to act in any normal manner whatsoever, and it’s starting to get on your nerves. You throw your dagger at the back of his head more out of irritation than a dedicated effort to kill him.

He catches it in the air with casual precision and keeps walking. “Too predictable, little one.”

You should be concerned by his razor-sharp reflexes, but it’s difficult to feel anything but annoyance right now. And…respect?

You get up and follow him before you can give yourself a chance to dissect that.

König was right. This is dull.

At first, the concept of receiving petitioners seemed like an amusing prospect. But in practice, it’s all politics and people complaining about taxes.

You entertain yourself by watching König. He seems just as bored, if not more, as you. He appears to be intrigued by your dagger: examining it, testing the edge, handling the heft.

Some man is talking animatedly with his hands, bemoaning some property dispute with his neighbor. You’re sure that if König rolls his eyes any harder into the back of his skull, he’ll go pigeon-eyed. Admirably, he manages to push through—if it had been you, you would have just told the man to get out and stop wasting your time. As loathe as you are to admit it, König is a good leader.

“Alright, we’re done here. Tell them to go home,” König says, dismissing everyone with a flick of his wrist. The guards begin to push the doors closed when one last man runs in, near crazed, and throws himself on the floor, babbling incoherently.

“What is the meaning of this?” König demands, immediately standing up. The guards begin to approach the man, hands on swords.

“Wait! Please, your majesty, I beg of you,” the man pleads. “I have journeyed many days to come here and beseech your aid.”

König heaves a sigh. “Spit it out then.”

“Thank you, my king,” the man pants, pushing himself up to a standing position. “There’s a beast. In the south.”

“A beast?”

“It’s ravaging the countryside. It follows the flocks, but it doesn’t eat them. It’s…” The man swallows hard. He looks weary, run ragged no doubt by his arduous journey to the capital. “It’s taking our children, sir.”

König’s eyes narrow. “And you haven’t attempted to track it down yourself?”

“We’ve tried, your majesty. Our most skilled hunters have gone after it.” The man sways unsteadily on his feet. “None of them have come back.”

“Has anyone laid eyes on it? Is it a wolf?”

“None who have seen it have returned to tell the tale.”

König leans back, looking contemplative. One of his advisors speaks. “We’ve received reports about this already, sire. We’ve dispatched soldiers already but had no luck.”

The man shakes his head frantically. “It doesn’t leave anyone behind to tell the tale, sir. Not many people dare to go into the woods anymore, and the ones that do…they don’t come back right.”

“How so.”

The man’s voice betrays his naked fear, trembling. “They go mad, sir. Some think…some think it’s the fae’s doing.”

That seems to finally get König’s interest. He leans forward, his entire demeanor stiffening. A hush falls over the people gathered as the man invokes the fair folk’s name.

Everybody knows the fae exist. In hushed whispers, people tell the old stories: of when the fair folk lived among men and ruled over them with cruelty and trickery. There are some forests people know to stay out of. And when a newborn babe fusses just a bit too much, or a child grows up a little too quiet, the rumors fly in secret.

The fae are cruel, beautiful, and nearly impossible for a mortal to kill. If they’re involved in this matter with the beast, then that village is as good as dead.

Before König can say anything, the man fidgets and turns. You watch as his attention lands on you, eyes widening. Something his gaze becomes unfocused, misty, his chest beginning to heave as he visibly panics.

“You…they’re here…THEY’RE HERE!” With a crazed look on his face, the man lunges towards you, moving at a threatening speed. Your hand goes instinctively to your hidden sheathe, but your fingers close around air. Shit! König still has your dagger. You brace to defend yourself as the man draws even closer—

Like a deadly blur, König is on the man in an instant. The force of him knocks you backwards, watching in shock as König subdues the screaming, flailing man with cold, expert precision.

As if in slow motion, you watch with a mixture of horror and fascination as he turns to look at you. His eyes, usually a tranquil pale green, are blue. Vivid blue, with an unearthly glow to them that makes you wonder if you’re hallucinating. You feel like a butterfly pinned to cork by that stare, simultaneously trapped and admired.

He blinks, once, and his eyes are green again.

With what looks like no effort at all, he turns the man on his stomach and pins his arms behind him as he struggles and hollers. “Put this one in a cell,” he says with a deep growl. “We’ll see what he has to say for himself when he’s in his right mind again. If he ever is.” The guards rush forward to haul the man away as König stands back up.

He gives the rest of the room a cursory glance. “Well? Back to your duties.”

The gawking staff quickly gather themselves and scatter. König claps his hands together as if dusting off some nuisance.

“…Why did you do that?” You ask, unable to help yourself.

He gives you a skeptical look. “Why did I defend my queen from an attacker?”

You take a deep breath. Gods preserve you. “I’m not your anything.”

“Technically untrue. You are my wife, which makes you the queen.” He strides over to you and offers you your dagger, holding the blade so you can grab the hilt.

Its weight soothes you as you put it back into its rightful place. “I don’t understand.”

“I’ve already said I have no intention of killing you. Besides, it wouldn’t look good for me if I allowed you to be attacked in your own home.”

This isn’t my home, you almost say, but stop yourself. You’re starting to sound too much like a whining child, and you don’t like it.

You surprise the both of you with what comes out of your mouth next. “Thank you.”

He’s looking at you that way again, like you’re a puzzle he’s trying to solve. “You’re welcome.” He averts his eyes, hesitating for a moment like he wants to say more. Then he evidently thinks better of it and strides away from you.

“My lady!” Calliope rushes forward, concern written all over her face. “Are you alright?”

“Yes, just…shaken,” you say, still watching König leave. “I’m fine.”

“Simply outrageous. I can’t believe none of the guards got to that man in time,” she fumes, fussing over you in her way.

“Yes, well. König got here in time. So no harm was done.”

Calliope follows your gaze, eyes narrowing at König’s retreating backside just as he turns the corner and vanishes from sight. “I don’t like that one.”

“Neither do I,” you snort.

“No, pet. Listen to me.” Startled, you turn to look at her. You haven’t heard her take on this tone in quite a while: the last time was when you had broken your wrist trying to scale one of the abandoned towers back home. You can’t quite recall why you had been trying to do that, but you do remember the worried look on her face, and the sternness of her words.

“He’s not right,” she says. “Something’s wrong about him.”

It’s a foregone conclusion to say that König is no ordinary man, but something about the furrow of Calliope’s brow tells you that more is happening here than she’s letting on. “Are you going to elaborate?”

A strange look passes over her face, like a cloud briefly blocking the sun. “No.”

You wait for a few moments before nodding. Whatever it is, you trust her to know what’s best. “I see. Though I didn’t need a warning on how dangerous he is, you know.”

“You are a smart girl,” she says wistfully, straightening your ruffled clothes a bit. “But there are some things that are not for you to understand.”

“I have to understand, if I’m to kill him.”

She frowns. “I think you should put that out of your mind for now.”

“What?”

“I mean, you may have to play a longer game with this one. There’s too much we don’t know.”

You open your mouth, then close it. She’s right. There was something bone-chilling about the way he looked at you just now, but instead of feeling afraid, you feel something different. Curiosity. Fascination.

Not for the first time—or the last—you feel drawn to him.

König’s been antsy lately.

You’ve gotten quite good at reading his moods, even when he’s wearing the hood. The rest of his body betrays him: his shoulders are tense, and his fingers are constantly toying with a phantom knife. He prefers to be fidgeting with an actual one, but it tends to make him too intimidating for that to be practical.

You’ve taken Calliope’s advice and taken to studying your target rather than trying to end him and be done with it. There’s a lot to notice, which is surprising: you’d taken him for some mindless hulking brute upon first impression. It’s clear that he’s intelligent, with a cunning quickness to his thinking that both impresses and chills you.

Shame he’s still as much of a raging pervert as he was in the beginning, though.

“You know, I wasn’t sure about you in pants at first, but now I think you should wear them more often,” he says, surprising you during target practice. He startles you enough to throw your shot off, the arrow clattering uselessly to the ground below the target.

“Can I help you?” you demand, giving him a venomous side eye.

“Not at all, princess. Just admiring the view.” He leans against a nearby post, watching your confused expression. It takes him shifting his gaze downward for you to realize what he means.

“Ugh!” Without hesitation, you nock another arrow and shoot it at him, aiming right between his eyes. He dodges it, of course.

“You can’t expect me to marry a pretty woman and not look at her,” he says smugly.

It’s an unfamiliar situation, being desired. You don’t have much experience with this sort of thing: not only are you the king’s daughter, but you tend to give off a chilly, hyper-competent aura that keeps men with fragile egos away from you. You’ve only had one encounter with a man: a shy kiss behind the stables, featherlight touches that sent tingles through your whole body.

König has never touched you, but the way he looks at you is enough to make you blush. You should be indignant, but instead you find you don’t mind all that much.

“Why are you bothering me?” you say instead of responding to what he said.

“Bothering you? I’m hurt,” he says, placing a hand over his heart as if you’ve physically wounded him. “I came to inform you of my departure.”

“Your what?” you ask, gawking at him. “Where are you going?”

“Do you remember that man who came to tell us about the beast?”

“You mean the man who attacked me? I’d forgotten,” you say drily.

“Your wit is as alluring as ever,” he responds. “I’ve decided to enlist the help of the most competent man I know to deal with the threat.”

“And who would that be?”

“Me, of course.”

You shoot him a confused look. “You’re leaving to deal with something personally?”

“It’s too perilous of a problem to continue throwing my men at,” he says, taking on a more serious tone. He’s toying with a knife again: a hefty, aggressive-looking thing with a jagged edge. “If you want something done, you need to do it yourself. Or at least lay eyes on the problem yourself.”

“You’re not worried at all about dying and leaving your throne empty?” you ask disbelievingly. This is beyond reckless, verging on foolish.

“Don’t start,” he sighs. “I just got out of a hours-long meeting with my advisors. Anything you could say to me, they’ve already told me a dozen times. It won’t change my mind.” One look at him tells you he’s dead serious, and won’t be persuaded otherwise.

“Well, when do we leave?”

“We?”

“Yes, of course. I’m coming with you,” you say, puzzled at his confusion.

“You are not.”

“Yes, I am.”

“It’s too dangerous. And besides, the journey won’t be pleasant. I’ll be traveling without guards or servants.”

“Why on earth not?”

“Too much of a hassle. I’ll get there faster if I’m traveling alone. Emphasis on alone. Besides, I would prefer not to be sending any innocents to their deaths.”

“You’ll need someone to watch your back.”

“And you think you qualify?”

“Yes!”

He chuckles at your indignant tone. “With all due respect, my queen, I doubt you could take care of yourself out there, much less be of use to me.”

You wish he wouldn’t call you that. It makes your chest feel strange. Which isn’t helpful when you’re getting mad at him for doubting your competence.

“If you go alone, you might not come back,” you retort. “If I come with you, I can ensure you don’t come back.”

He looks at you, startled, and proceeds to let out a hearty laugh. “You are full of surprises,” he says. “It won’t be like a vacation, you know. We’ll have to travel light.”

“I can handle that.”

“I’m sure you can. The question is, can you handle whatever beast those villagers are so worried about? You may not worry about my wellbeing, but I would worry about your own first.”

“You don’t think I can hold my own?”

“To be honest? No.”

“Then let me prove myself.” You step right up to him, so close that your face is nearly pressed to his chest. God, he’s so big. And broad— “Let me show you I can hold my own in a fight.”

A sly smile crosses his face. “Alright. Let’s spar.”

You blink. “Excuse me?”

“Let’s. Spar.”

“You want me to fight you?”

“What were you expecting?”

“That’s not a fair fight.”

“You came here to kill me.”

“Assassinations don’t usually happen during prearranged one-on-one fights.”

“Touché. But I’m not asking you to beat me. If I think you’re competent, then you can come along.”

“This is ridiculous.”

“I actively do not want you to join me, mind you.”

You let out a quick, angry breath through your nose. Infuriating. “Fine. I’ll do it.”

“Excellent. I’ll see you after lunch, then.”

You turn away from him and trudge over to a tree to pick up some fallen arrows. “What’s the rush? Are you leaving so soon?”

“Tomorrow morning, in fact. Just before dawn.”

“I can wake up that early.”

“No need to put the horse before the carriage here. If you’re going.”

“I’m not concerned.” You bend down to pick a few arrows out of some scrappy tough grass, and when you straighten, König is right there, looming over you like a threatening shadow.

“What—” You gasp as the knife König was fiddling with rushes past your face and embeds itself in the tree trunk behind you.

“I don’t think this is quite getting through to you, so I’ll only say this once,” he mutters darkly, leaning over you to whisper directly into your ear, his hand firmly gripping the knife above your head. “You have nothing to prove to me, and I don’t know what you’re trying to do by insisting you come with me. If you change your mind now, we need not speak about this again.”

You glare up at him. “You’re not going to change my mind. And it’s quite suspicious that you’re trying to.”

“Is it really so difficult to believe that I’m concerned for your welfare?”

You don’t understand him. Being this close to him isn’t helping you think straight, either. There’s no other way to describe it, but it’s almost like you can feel the intensity radiating off him. He smells like pine needles and lye, and some distinctly manly musk that you don’t dislike. And when he’s up close like this, you can see every detail of his eyes, the green streaked with blue and brown.

“It would be easier if you weren’t,” you whisper.

He snorts. “Don’t I know it.” Before you can process what the hell he means by that, he’s pulling his knife out of the tree and stalking off, suddenly in some sulky mood.

You stare at the deep mark left in the bark, wondering what just happened.

“Again,” calls the swordsmaster.

You scramble to your feet, exhausted and sore. “This isn’t fair,” you whine. You’re twelve years old, and the man who’s been teaching you how to fight has just dropped you for what feels like the millionth time in a row.

“How so?”

“You’re bigger than me!” you pout. “And far stronger.”

“That isn’t always an advantage, you know,” he says, doing a flourish with his practice sword that you vow right there and then to master someday.

“How? That’s all fighting is. It’s just big people beating up the little people.”

“Being smaller just means you have to be nimbler.” He gestures for you to come at him again. “Don’t focus on trying to hit me in the chest. Use your size to your advantage and focus on weak points.”

You brandish the practice sword again and ground yourself, steeling yourself with a deep breath before charging. You go for the knees, smacking them so hard that they buckle, bringing your instructor down with a shout.

“I did it!” you beam proudly.

“A little unorthodox, but the job is done,” he pants. “Remember, there is no decorum when you are fighting for your life. It is imperative you intuit your enemy’s weak points and exploit them. Even the strongest enemy can be brought low.”

You nod with determination. “Always go for the knees.” That draws a laugh out of your instructor.

There’s something deeply unnerving about the way this man moves.

König is so big, but he doesn’t move like it. The way he paces reminds you of a big cat: all intimidation and quiet, deadly strength on light feet.

“I’ll let you make the first move,” he says with a crooked smile. He looks deliciously rumpled, the sleeves of his shirt pushed to his elbows. You’re only looking at the swell of his biceps for tactical reasons, of course. Of course.

“How generous,” you reply. Without hesitation, you lunge at him.

He’s ready for you, of course. He matches you hit for hit, parrying you effortlessly. If you thought he was fast before, there’s something downright inhuman about it now. You doubt he’s even breaking a sweat.

He pushes you back, sliding on your feet a little. “Do you seriously have one hand behind your back right now?” you hiss.

“You’re as difficult to fend off as a feather,” he shoots back.

It’s like having a conversation, sparring with him. More than just the banter, of course. You trade blows, each unable to move in too closely to the other. He may be strong, but you’re fast. And you can tell you’re wearing him down.

“Getting tired, big boy?” you taunt.

“Of waiting for you to give up? Perhaps,” he grits out. “Don’t try my patience, princess.”

“I want to watch you squirm,” you respond. You watch as König’s eyes widen slightly. You jump at the opportunity, taking advantage of his moment of shock to knock him off balance and pinning him underneath you.

“That wasn’t so hard,” you purr as he pants under you. “Feel familiar?”

“Last time we were in this position, it didn’t end so well for you,” König shoots back. He can say whatever he wants, but you’ve visibly winded him.

“This time, I went for the knees.”

“Oh?”

“You have buttons that are very entertaining to push, your highness.”

“You little—”

It’s quick. One moment he’s pinned underneath you, and another moment some supernatural strength has him rapidly reversing your positions. He catches you off guard, and you spot a flash of blue in his eyes as the wind is knocked out of your lungs.

“Next time you have an enemy pinned like that, finish the job instead of crowing about your victory,” he hisses.

You wheeze a little before shooting him a coy look. “Struck a nerve, did I?”

“You are an infuriating little minx,” he says, visibly frustrated. He stands up, offering you a helping hand.

You take it, springing up with a little bounce to your step. “Well?”

“Well what?”

“Am I coming with you?”

He sighs in consternation. “I suppose you are.”

You give him a little pat on the face. His exposed cheek is warm underneath your palm as he looks at you with an indecipherable expression.

“Glad we sorted that out. See you at dinner,” you say sweetly.

You prance off without a look back. You could use a bath.

MOOOOOOOM THEY'RE FLIRTINGGG

I started out unsure of how this chapter was going to turn out, as it's mostly just setup for the plot to get going. But I ended up having a lot of fun, and some pretty important things are set up in this. I hope you guys enjoyed it! Comments and feedback are of course always appreciated <3

@crowbird @poohkie90 @cumikering @iytatsworld @papaver-decervicatus @anxietyrain @riotakire @ax0lotly @cookiepie111 @kacchasu @no1runawaymilkdad @chthonian-spectre @backwards-readings @yxllowtxpe @garbau @hexqueensupreme @queenthorin1 @violetstyless @her-majesty-theking @vegan-peppermint @peonytarian @ghostslittlegf @euuuuuuun @e1x03 @kokonoiwife @deaddainish @dragonfang @teehee-47 @catluvwr @keiva1000 @waves-against-a-cliff @channelsoph @cutiecusp

[explosionkatsu]

"Age doesn't matter" 15

Dad!Bakugo x F!Babysitter!Teacher!Reader

01 02 03 04 05 06 07 08 09 10 11 12 13 14 15 16

It’s been days since Y/n started babysitting Kazui. After the administration suspended the class due to the villain attack, Y/n had to email every parent about what would happen and how can the children still catch up with their lessons, as well as mail them the day-to-day school activities. But for Kazui, instead of mailing Katsuki the manuscripts, she has Kazui’s daily school activity printed out and hands it to him personally.

No, she won't teach him at all. It may be part of her babysitting job but being his school instructor, she treats her pupils equally. That implies no special treatment for Kazui.

Although almost every day she can hear Katsuki lecturing Kazui whenever he sees him writing down the wrong answer. Sometimes she’ll catch him smacking his head which will earn him a lecture from her.

She remembered when she first did it in front of Eijiro. The guy was taken aback of course, but surprisingly, Katsuki behaved which made Eijiro taken back more.

“Did you just...- What?” The poor guy was confused.

Today, Katsuki’s on his daily pratol and you were working in the Dining area where you can keep an eye on Kazui who completed his homework and was just watching tv now.

All of a sudden you received an email from the school principal. Clicking it open, Y/n read the content. It was apparently an email about the new employee since some of the kindergarten teachers resigned after the incident. The principal is basically relying on her since she’s one of those who stayed.

“Another work, then.” Y/n mumbled but started responding to the email anyway. It’s not like she has a choice not to. But deep down, she wanted to leave her job as well, not because she was hired as a babysitter, it’s because of the workload which has been keeping her up till midnight.

And yes, Katsuki noticed this. He has very observant eyes, we all know that. He can see her strained smile whenever Kazui comes up to her to show anything he drew.

“Ah. I guess that’s it for now.” Y/n yawned as she stretched her limbs. Once done stretching, she checked the time to see it was almost dinner. Which means, he’ll be here anytime now.

“Time to make dinner, Kazui-chan.”

Kazui beamed once he heard Y/n. He always wanted to be a great good like his dad, so Y/n agreed that Kazui can help her or watch beside her.

“What will we be cooking today, Miss Y/n?” Kazui asked while rocking on his heels. A mannerism Y/n found out whenever he’s excited.

“Well, I always wanted to try something new. I just need to see if we have all the ingredients.” Y/n smiled as soon as she finished packing her things before proceeding to the kitchen.

Once she checked the fridge, “Huh. It seems like we’re missing one ingredient.” Y/n pouted. “I guess another dish, then.”

…

“Tadaima.”

Very uneventful, is what in his mind. Katsuki groaned as he stepped in and set his boots aside.

“Papa!”

Well, at least he got home unharmed.

“Hey, brat.” Katsuki grinned and picked up Kazui who dashed towards him.

“How was your day, papa? Miss Y/n is cooking dinner!” Kazui beamed while being carried by his father.

“What the hell? Again? I swear to God.” Katsuki tsked after knowing this. Careful, he put Kazui down and marched toward the kitchen where he saw you cooking.

“What did I tell you, hah?” He was pissed, alright.

By accident, you dropped the spatula you were using startled by his voice. You didn’t expect him to come home this early, way too early actually.

“W-what are you doing here?” You said while trying to use your body to cover the dish you were cooking from his view.

“What the hell do you mean? This is my house.” Katsuki pointed out, arms crossed over his chest with Kazui beside him, holding him by his pants. “Didn’t I tell you to not cook? That ain’t part of your job.” He groaned.

“If I didn’t cook us our meal, we won’t be able to eat supper and you’ll come home with an empty stomach.” You pouted while slowly picking up the spatula.

“I said you can order out. Didn’t I leave you enough money for that?”

“Well, I’m sorry but inside of ordering unhealthy food, I used the money to buy something healthy since Kazui is still a growing boy.” You said after successfully picking the spatula. “Besides, you should know this. You’re a hero. You need to maintain a proper diet and have a healthy meal.” You said before turning your back at him to focus on finishing your cooking.

Katsuki’s lips twitched at your response.

“Hey brat.”

Kazui looked up at him curiously. “Yes papa?”

“Take my bag to my room. Bring me a clean pair of comfortable clothes. I just need to talk to Miss Y/n.” Katsuki handed Kazui his bag without looking at him which he took, obviously struggling.

“E-eh?” Your attention was now focused on the struggling Kazui who was hauling his father’s obviously heavy bag.

“It’s alright. This is how I train him.” Katsuki said to you, but eyes still engaged on you.

“O-okay.” You responded still concerned.

“I can’t pay you more if you keep doing this.” Katsuki said out of nowhere when he heard Kazui reach the stairs. He doesn’t want his child to overhear this.

“I don’t care.” You responded to him as turned your attention back to the sizzling food in front of you.

“What do you-

“Look.” You started before slightly reducing the heat to prevent the food from burning and set your attention completely on him. “At this point, I don’t care about the extra stuff I don’t have to do. You are a hero and Kazui’s a kid. Both of you need something nutritious since, like I said, Kazui’s a growing kid, and you, for your diet.” You instructed. “You are a parent, and you should know this.”

Katsuki was outraged at your last statement.

“What the hell do you know about being a parent, huh.” He spat, taking Y/n aback. “You are not a mother, so stop nagging me.”

But you’re not backing down.

“I may not be a parent, but I know things about being a good one.” You responded calmly.

“What? You’re saying I’m not a good parent? Hah?” Katsuki dropped his crossed arms and took a step closer to Y/n who didn’t even flinch. “You know nothing, woman.”

Y/n even challenged him by stepping closer to him, almost nose to nose. “I know everything, Katsuki. I also know that you needed help.”

“I don’t.”

“You do. You’re just too prideful to accept one.” You said quietly, almost a whisper.

The space between both of you was enough for Katsuki to study your features. Your (e/c) eyes, your lashes, your nose, and your glossy lips that he’s tempted to touch with his own.

Screw it.

Following his thoughts, Katsuki wrapped his arm around you, taking you by surprise and pulled by your waist as he placed a finger under your chin, tilting your head upwards and as gently as possible, placed his lips onto yours.

He was right about your lips being soft and tender.

You on the other hand were still in shock. You didn’t expect this to happen. Never in your life did you expect Dynamight to kiss you.

When you felt him pull away, you were speechless. Your eyes were looking straight on his, as his to yours. As if everything around you was blurry.

Katsuki was the same as you are though. He was shocked by what he did. Hell, he didn’t even know why he did it. All he knew was your lips looked so glossy.

“Fuck.” He muttered.

“Papa. I hope this is okay.”

Kazui’s voice jolted both of you making you push him away, and him releasing you.

“I- That’s fine.” Katsuki said out loud as he glanced behind him. When he turns to look back at you, you were touching your lips, face flushed while your eyes stare into nothing. “I-“ he was trying, okay? He doesn’t know where to start.

“I-I’ll go back to cooking.” You stuttered and turned back to the stove.

“Y-yeah.” Katsuki agreed as he scratched the back of his head, slightly blushing. “I guess.”

…

It was finally time for Y/n to go back to her apartment and She was a glad about this.

After what happened earlier, the dinner was awkward. Both adults didn’t even glance at each other. Thankfully, Kazui was telling them stuff making the tension in the air light.

When Y/n finally got her things, a knock on the door caught her attention. “Who is it?” She called out. But before she could reach the door, it swung open, revealing Eijiro and Denki.

“Oh. Hey Miss Y/n!”

“Yo!”

“Oh? Good evening.” You bowed and let them in the house.

“Were you about to leave?” Denki asked while eyeing your things lying on the ground.

“Oh. Yes. I was about to.” You smiled at them as you closed the door behind.

“What’re you two idiots doing here, hah.” Katsuki’s emerged from the kitchen while wiping his hands dry. He did the dishes, okay? “And keep it down, Kazui’s asleep.”

“We’re just stopping by. Kaminari here wanted to visit Kazui and have a little drink with you, so I joined him.” Eijiro grinned at Katsuki and sat on the couch.

“Don’t you think it’s a bit late to drink? We have an early patrol tomorrow, morons.” Katsuki said while hanging the wet towel on its rack and joining them in the living room.

“Come on, man. We drove all the here to see you.” Denki pouted. “I wanted to see the kid as well.”

“Tsk. Fine.” Katsuki agreed. “After I drop Y/n to her place, and don’t wake Kazui, got it.”

“I’m sorry?” You were obviously not listening.

“I said, I’ll drop you to your place.” Katsuki repeated as he grabbed his jacket from the bracket near the entrance and wore it. “As if I’d let you leave this house at this hour, idiot.”

“I can just ride a bus.” You said as you watched Katsuki pick your things and left. “Bakugo.” You called, only to get ignored.

“You can’t change his mind, Miss Y/n.” Eijiro chuckled as he watched you try. “He’s one stubborn man.”

“Its not bad to try, right?” You slightly pouted.

“And you’ll only go unnoticed.” Denki smiled at you.

“Sigh. Alright. H-have a great evening to you both.” Once again, you bowed and left the house. “Bakugo!”

Eijiro and Denki were smiling like idiots as they watched your figure disappear from their sight.

“What do you think about her?” Eijiro suddenly asked as he stood up and grab himself a drink.

“Miss Y/N?” Denki asked not making an effort to look at Eijiro. “She seems really nice to me, way too soft for Kacchan.”

“You think?”

“Yeah, bro. She seems like a gentle woman to me. Completely opposite to, you know.” Denki said, this time looking at Eijiro.

“I think they look good together.” Eijiro said as he handed Denki his drink.

…

“Bakugo-san-

“What did I say about formalities?” Katsuki tsked as he placed your things inside the car.

“You don’t have to-

“Sigh.” He was obviously tired of your attempts.

You watched him groan and put both his palm over his face.

“God you’re more stubborn than Kazui.” Katsuki groaned.

“I-I’m sorry.” You murmured to yourself as you play with your fingers.

“Do you want me to kiss you again?”

“W-what?!” “Relax, it’s a joke,” Katsuki smirked at you. “Get in the car.”

-

Hello, my lovelies! I am glad to be back. I am once again apologizing for disappearing like that. But here's part 15. I do hope you like this and stay tuned for 16. Thank you for all your patience.

[nilolol30]

Romantic Mayor, Syntax and Macaque with (Fem)reader giving them the mum face

(Children and having a kid are in this story so there's that warning ig also fun fact baby monkeys are called infants)

Syntax

A good friend of yours asked if you could babysit for them and of course being a friend you agreed but you forgot Syntax was going to come over to visit.

So when Syntax walked inside and was met with you and two kids he didn't know he was surprised to say the least "This far into our relationship and you didn't tell me you've had children?" He joked raising an eyebrow.

The two kids a girl around 7 and a boy 4 years old, the boy was sitting on your lap trying to take the TV remote while the girl just sat in the chair watching the cartoon.

"Instead of being an a- ahem a rude person can you help me for a sec" Syntax couldn't help but laugh at the near slip up and picked up the boy from crawling over you immediately they were distracted and asking syntax to play.

So to help you out he agreed and played a few games most of them the two kids made up on their own mostly inspired by actual games, smiling you turn off the TV and joined in.

It was starting to get to their bedtime so you started to make dinner while Syntax was answering the kids random questions while he and them sat at the kitchen table at some point he got curious about how bad he can lie with his answers.

"Why is your hair green?" The girl pointed at his hair "a frog jumped on my head and it made it turn green" he couldn't help but smile as the two kids gasped.

"Why are you purple?" The girl sat on her knees in the chair and leaned over the table Syntax glanced at you and smirked he leaned over and whispered "Y/n is a spooky witch and when I didn't eat their dinner they turned my skin purple" the two kids gasped.

You obviously hearing him immediately snapped your head to face him and glared immediately he sat straight and chuckled a bit while the two children squealed and sat straight, well trying too.

At least they ate dinner and went to bed with no problems.

Mayor

"Make sure you put your toys away sweetie" you called out as you sat in the lounge room "I will" your six year old daughter called out from the hallway.

Usually 'I will' means 'Im going to forget about it' but the front door opens and your husband walks in the house "Listen to your mother dearest" Mayor chuckles and walks over to you giving you a kiss on the temple.

With a faint "Fine" you hear your daughter put away the blocks she had spread around the hall, though she put up a fuss about it cleaning the blocks up for here was quick and she ran back to the lounge room to give her dad a hug.

"See that wasn't any trouble for you was it dear?" Mayor smiled and picked up the girl as she giggled.

You smiled at the sight Mayor put her down on the couch next to you "What's for dinner?" She asked looking between you and her father, you thought for a moment and said "well I'm open to suggestions" not a second after your daughter jumped up.

"Ohoh! Can we have MacDonald's?" She asked, McDonald's were only for when she gets a award/good grades from school or a fortnight so you didn't hesitate to say "Nope".

But of course she turned to her dad and pulled her biggest puppy dog eyes "But please?" You can see the Mayor visibly consider it but you immediately shut it down with a quick glare.

"Sorry dear but you know the rules now I think we can have some delicious healthy vegetables" the Mayor smiled and strides to the kitchen while your daughter whined letting herself fall onto the couch her head leaning on your arm.

You can remember doing something similar to your parents to you give her a empathetic pat on the head.

Macaque

Macaque wasn't good with children he has no idea what to do around them even holding off swearing is difficult for him so when you had to take care of a friends two year old he awkwardly sat next to you as you tried to entertain him.

Unfortunately for Macaque the toddler was really curious about him but you can't blame him through not every kid sees a humanoid monkey demon.

Macaque was a little confused, worried and a little impressed with the lengths this kid is going to try and walk over to him but you kept dragging the boy back knowing Macaque is a bit uncomfortable around kids.

But kids are slippery and the kid managed to crawl away from you stand up and stumbled over to Macaque, he didn't really mind since he thought it was hilarious that a two year old gave you the slip.

'Maybe human kids aren't that different from the infants at flower fruit mountain' he thought as the kid poked at his fur on the side of his head.

After assuring you it's fine you quickly went out for a second to get some food ready for the toddler, Macaque was alright entertaining the kid all he had to do was let the kiddo run around in circles trying to catch his tail.

Funny enough the little guy grabbed it and had a little victory laugh which also made Macaque laugh using his tail he wrapped it around the kids waist and picked him up making the kid laugh more.

"Oh you like that? What about this?" Macaque turned the kid upsidedown making him squeal and laugh even more Macaque let out an amused huff.

But you walked back in the room seeing Macaque holding a two year old upsidedown "Macaque you can't hold a kid like that the blood will get to his head!" "Whaat? The kids fine he's having a blast" but as soon as you gave him the glare he gently put the kid down.

He made a note though! Don't hold human toddlers upsidedown too long.

[quitealotofsodapop]

So if Wukong didn't know MK was playing superhero, why was he able to be caught by Spider Queen? The answer is clear. He took the younger cubs down to see the parade. That way, he could be closer to the fireworks, and his kids are entertained. He ended up being caught up in the initial attack and discovered MK playing hero while trying to evacuate the cubs away from the angry spider lady trying to turn people into spider zombies.

Wukong is not happy, but at this point there are far more important things to deal with. He orders MK to get his siblings somewhere safe while he handles Spider Queen. When MK protests, he tells him that MK's arachnophobia would only get in the way, and he is still Sun Wukong, the gods be damned Great Sage Equal To Heaven and the Monkey King. He isn't so far into his retirement that he can't put an upstart little princess in her place.

The plan backfires and Wukong gets captured by LBD and Spider Queen, of course, but hey, the Noodle Crew gets to meet MK's siblings! Sandy babysits them while they're in Heaven trying to get the stuff. All they know of it is that MK's mom was caught by the Spider Queen, they don't know yet exactly who his parent is. Not until much later when Wukong and DBK break out of their bonds and save them.

"Holy shit, is that Sun Wukong!?" ;Probably Tang

"Mom!" :MK

"MOM!?" :Literally eveyone

After all is said and dine Wukong makes good on his promise of a long talk, or rather lecture, and MK is grounded.

"I CANNOT BELIEVE YOU WOULD BE SO RECKLESS! Xiaotian, your father an I taught you better than this! What were you thinking!?"

"But when you were my age you were at war with Heaven, though!"

"And look what that got me! Thrown in a furnace and pinned under a mountain for 500 years! What you did was stupid and reckless. What if you'd gotten hurt!? Your still mortal, MK!"

Referencing.

Yesss. Wukong canonically adores New Years, and I def agree that love extends to the cubs too.

Wukong does a "surprise" visit to Megapolis to show the younger cubs the New Years Parade + check up on his eldest while MK is helping Pigsy with the foodtruck. Likely all in glamours, but MK 100% gets an embarassing visit from his mom at work. The Noodle shop gang tease him endlessly about it.

Then cue the Spider Queen's invasion, and Wukong giving MK the cubs to watch for the moment while he Kings Up. MK doesn't want his mom to go in his condition, but Wukong is still The Monkey King, and has no idea that his son has been superhero-ing for the past couple of months.

The gang all meet up on Sandy's airship, and the kiddos glamours all drop from stress. This is where the gang confirms (they had suspiscions) that MK is a disguised demon - they dont mind since thats sadly common in human-dominated cities. MK specifically being a monkey demon gets Tang asking questions though.

Red Son shows up and has a brain-fart mid-plan when he recognises who "Noodle Boy" actually is;

Red Son: "Xiaotian!? I haven't seen you since we were calves! This explains so much!" MK, nervous sweating: "Not now dude! My mom got captured by the Spider Queen, and my dad is MIA right now." Red Son: "Ah but of course. Seems we have the same predicament then. No fear, I have a plan to defeat the Spider Queen and save our respective parents." Tang, panic-nerding: "MK, how do you know Red Son!?" MK, flash of SWK-esque anger: "NOT NOW."

The gang get to the Celestial Realm and retrieve what they need to make the antidote - though not without attracting the attention of a certain hound that just realised her fave monkey is here.

MK, petting the dog: "I'm sorry Quan. I can't play right now! I'm saving the city." Xiaotian Quan: (*sad whine!*)

Meanwhile at the Spider Mech; DBK has finally met his little brother/enemy once again. DBK in his anger, yells about Sun Wukong's "little-thief successor MK" ruining so many of his family's attempts at gaining power, and Wukong just blanks;

Wukong, scary parent voice: "Xiaotian has been doing what!?" DBK: "The Little Thief is Xiaotian!?"

DBK would also shout at Wukong for putting himself in danger in his condition, but quiets when he learns that Macaque is missing. Tieshan had seemed worried since DBK got back (infact, maybe its why she decided to free him), and everyone knows that the shadow monkey wouldn't leave his mate without reason. When LBD arrives, DBK and Wukong immediate get a chill up their spines. They both know that she's somehow involved with Mac's disappearance... DBK has his super-saiyan moment of worried-anger and frees both himself and his xiandi so that they can find their reckless kids.

The Noodle Shop gang (+ Red Son and the cubs) bust on through with the spider-venom antidote and manage to subdue the Spider Queen with their combined forces.

Tang is about to fanboy at the sight of Sun Wukong in the flesh when MK and the cubs yell something that shatters his preconceptions.

MK & the cubs: "Mom!" "Mama!" Noodle Shop Gang: "MOM?!?" Wukong, swarmed by baby monkeys: "Thank Nuwa you're all ok!" (*hugs them all tight*) Wukong: (*suddenly bonks MK on head with a sandal*) Wukong: "And you! How dare you not tell me that you've been fighting demons this whole time! You told me you were only getting a job for mortal experience!" MK: "But mom! I did get a job! I've been using my spare time trying to figure out what happened to dad!" Wukong: "Which I specifically told you Not to do!! Your father has gotten himself tangled up with a very dangerous witch and I'm not letting you run into one of her traps!" Noddle Shop Gang + DB fam: (*standing at a safe distance from the yelling*) Tang, dizzy with excitement: "Anyone else feel like they're in a fantasy right now?" Mei: "Hm, not really. I knew Xiaotian since we were pups. My grunkle Ao Lie is the same dragon-horse from the stories." Tang: "Excuse me!?"

Erlang shows up on Earth asking Wukong tf just happened - his third eye showed him the chaos in the Celestial Realm and Lao Tzu is pissed for his missing pills and Furnace. But he immediately leaves when he sees tje carnage of a saved mortal city + Sun Wukong. (Erlang: "Ah. Say no more.")

[unproblematicmom15]

unforgivable

⁓Rafe cheats on his wife with sofia while she's pregnant with his second child

warnings⁓ cheating husband ´angst rafe being stupid and ignorent mentions of divorce cuss words

💔💔💔💔💔

Yes he was being distant. but she didn't think he would cheat on her. she was with him during the times where all of his family was against him and mistreated him, she cared about him when nobody gave a flying fuck about him, she loved him when no one loved him.

But now here she was clutching her swollen belly while she watched her husband fuck a younger bartender a pogue.

she listened to her husband the love her life the father of kids tell another person how better she was than her how he was going to leave her and their kids how pretty she looked underneath him and how he was going to get her pregnant and how beautiful she would look round with his child.

She couldn't handle the ache she was feeling in her heart. so she left his office and went home crying and praying to god to take her with him, but she had a kid waiting for her and another one on the way so she had to stay strong for them and not make a regretful decision.

💔💔💔💔💔

When he came home from work that night he acted so innocent and in love with her she knew all these time he didn't love her anymore so she just acted like she was sleeping to avoid his disgusting mouth on her (are you asleep babe?) when i didn't reply to him he faced the other side and slept like a fucking baby.

I woke up earlier than usual made breakfast for my son and asked my friend to babysit him for an hour or so and he agreed.

Time to rip this band aid off and confront him, He was already awake when i got back home trying to kiss and asking where i was and why was Kayden not with me, I rolled my eyes and said “quit the act Rafe i know” Know what? he replied acting all confused, I know about Sofia and you don't need to deny anything because i saw you two at your office yesterday when you told you had an important meeting to do, His face went pale, I came to tell you about the gender of our baby! but you were too busy fucking someone 16 years your junior to even realize i was standing at your door! i said crying while he just stood there, Okay i admit what i did but was wrong but baby trust me it was nothing, he looked at me with pleading eyes as he teared up gently touching my arm.

Don't touch me i said ripping my arm from him, I will send you the divorce papers just sign them so you can be with her without having to sneak out and lie about work in peace.

What about our kids? he asked, you should've thought about that before you slept with someone else, with that i just left.

HEY GUYSS PLEASE BARE WITH ME BECAUSE THIS IS MY FIRST TIME WRITING💜

please reblog and let me know what you think loves.

[aeliesa]

DEAFENING SILENCE OF YEARNING

Synopsis: He's away but in those days of being on a different horizon, you just couldn't restrain yourself to think about how your life seems to be akin to what you try to evade. Nonetheless, he continues to prove you wrong in different ways.

• Relationship: Charlotte Katakuri x female reader

• Content: some extent of angst (?) and fluff

A/N: While rewatching one piece (which means my priorities is to reach Land of Wano as of now lolololols) I couldn't help but to write this as my mind keeps on generating plots (which I hate because whenever I try to write on my other fan fiction stories, it seems to be that writers block is back from vacation!) Anyway, this is a lengthy one which I decided to cut, I realized that it is way too much for one post because it is over 8k words, which might tire some of you.

I was just really kept on letting the juice of creativity out of my mind and realized this scenario has been growing the moment I stepped in the WCI arc, and I cannot help but adore the donut boy (although my heart lies with Ace, Luffy, and Law alone ehe.)

Anyway, this is the point of view of the reader (you) on missing the donut softie boy.

I hope you enjoy! :D

Addendum: there are some revisions but it's not too much that it alters the story. Just some errors here and there. Still, the possibility of errors that I overlooked is there.

To read the continuation head to: here.

In most situations, political marriage doesn’t work that much. It may help strengthen connections between families, but those forced to bind their love to secure the future of both parties tend to suffer the most.

Although you were treated differently than most of his family’s spouses, sometimes it makes you wonder if this union is simply for the family’s benefit.

“No,” you dismissed the thought immediately.

If anyone asks how married life goes, you would like to answer one thing: life-changing. At least, it is what you were dreaming of saying rather than pleasing; there is something in this matrimony that you were hoping to seek… something that differs from your parents. However, much to your dismay, the answer becomes more explicit each day: it is the same selfish decision between two heads of the families.

“Isn’t it also a selfish choice for you?” The thought makes you sigh in frustration for hoping to see the light in this almost spiral of despair.

As much as you try to neglect the idea, it just creeps inside your mind, slowly convincing. Being persistent has its merits, yet the situation you brought upon yourself at some point says otherwise. This political marriage between your family and the Charlottes is your gateway from the life you always wanted to escape. The suffocation of your father’s law has restrained you from almost everything in life, including the liberty to roam around your former land alone. In simpler terms: you were never free.

The night is still young, but your body is already weary enough to crave the soft mattress that can be found in the chambers shared by the two of you. Despite the tiredness, you were in no mood to leave the living room as you found comfort slouching on a settee facing the fireplace, listening to the soothing crackling from the burned woods.

“Why are you still awake?” a worried figure appeared from the mirror atop the fireplace. She walked over to you as soon as she stepped on the floor. “I was here three hours ago, and you didn’t bother to leave? Your body must be sore, sister, not to mention the babysitting with our youngest siblings.”

“We can stay here if you want,” a lady with peach hair says with concern.

“I appreciate the concern, girls, but it is still early… I’m not that tired,” you softly mumbled, trying to suppress a yawn with a wide smile. “This may come off, but what are you two doing here? I heard that there’s some commotion at the Seducing Woods; shouldn’t you be there, Brûlée?” your gaze never left her as the tall, pale woman with purplish hair sat before you.

“I needed to be here,” she simply quips, blowing her newly poured tea and glimpsing at your puzzled look.

“And I wanted to see you!” says the other one.

“Here? This isn’t the forest, Brûlée.”

Brûlée comes almost daily to accompany you, which you are thankful for. There are also nights that she checks on you from time to time. It can be through the mirrors or simply staying at your house and ensuring your needs. At first, you were bewildered by her ways of seeing you, but later on, you became accustomed to it, almost that it didn’t faze you that she appeared out of the blue.

Some of your in-laws visit you, but it is almost twice or thrice a month, considering their position, you understand. You were grateful that they took their time to spend their leisure time with you; never did they show any sign of detest in those times. Unlike some spouses of their siblings, you were just elated they treated you as a part of the family.

Most of the time, Chiffon and Brûlée knock at your door or appear from the mirrors in different corners of your house.

“Big brother asked me to look after you while he’s away,” Brûlée explains casually, leaning against the settee with a trace of determination across her face. “Actually… he asked all of us, but since most of my big brothers and sisters are busy with their work, they rarely come… and right now, I took the chance to escape dealing with those dimwits-minded pirates and let the other siblings handle it.”

Chiffon ‐ the peach-haired girl, nodded, “Brûlée also came to me and told me she was off to see you, so I took the chance!”

You were not a pirate nor had the liberty to sail the sea on your own accord, but when you stepped foot in Totto Land, you saw things that could leave you at a loss for words. Never in your wildest thought that such a country existed, much less imagined it… but it did. Although some things are difficult to explain and leave you dumbfounded, nothing can beat how his actions defy your pondering about this relationship – the union and mostly about him.

He continues to prove you wrong, not that you wanted to be cynical about him. Hell, it is the last thing you want! But considering where you grew up, it cannot be helped. To add fuel to the fire, the situation you’re dealing with is no different from the factors that lead you to think about it.

Ring. Ring. Ring.

“Excuse me, sister.” Chiffon picks up her transponder snail and answers it with: “sister is fine!”

“That is good to hear – hey, Oven, give that to m –”

“Hey sister, how are you?!”

“Now that you got to say your words, let me have this – Cracker give that to me! I’m gonna –”

“Big sister! I will ensure no pirates will step foot in your land!”

“Big talk right there, Cracker, when I was the one who monitored those weaklings. Now give that back to me!”

“What are you trying to say, Daifuku?!”

“I’m not done yet –”

“Shut up! Hey sister, I’m going to vis – hey Oven!”

Brûlée couldn’t contain her annoyance, “why don’t you guys try to resort to talking to her one by one?”

Instead of an answer, all she received were a series of banters from her big brothers, and you couldn’t even understand their words as they continued to bicker about who goes first in talking to you. Seeing them acting like that gives you a sense of belongingness; you were never the big shot in your own family, but somehow seeing how your husband’s siblings fought for your attention is surreal. As much as you try to understand their big brother’s impact on his siblings, you still fail to comprehend how you became a part of someone they have come to love. From a different perspective, your in-laws also look up to you the same way they see their big brother but, again, from a different perspective.

“I said I’ll go first!”

“No! You’ll just take all the time!”

“Daifuku is right!”

On the other hand, the woman with purplish hair who sits in front of you seems to restrain her displeasure and starts to yell at them, which makes everything worse. The other one, named Chiffon, tries to soothe her siblings but eventually joins the banters. Although the situation worsens, you find comfort that they have turned the silence of the living room into a swarming of energy from their bickers.

You couldn’t help but laugh at their enthusiasm and somehow pitied the snail at its continuous shifting of expressions: from anger to felicity to laughs and screams, their siblings’ bond is one of a kind that you also missed at your land.

Raising a hand despite not being able to be seen, you beamed. “Hi, guys! How are you there?”

“We are fine, sister!” the siblings from the other line answered unison, with the snail imitating their ecstasy.

“Hey, sister – I – hey!”

“Look, sister, I am goi – no! I - hey! Give that back!”

“Let me just finish – ow! Hey – clank”

Right before you could say something, the line was cut off. You just smiled over the cup of tea, elated to see that your in-laws are doing fine despite taking the mess into their own hands. It is not that you questioned their ability, but sometimes you cannot help but worry. Periodically you would check on them to see if they were okay, and thanks to your sister-in-law Brûlée, it was easy for you to move from place to place due to her abilities which you find so amazing.

The two girls shook their heads in disbelief and turned to you. “We’re sorry about that.”

“There’s nothing worth apologizing for,” you assured, smiling. “I’m glad you guys are okay… thank you for ensuring my safety.”

“Of course,” Brûlée exclaims, clearly flustered with your response. “We do not want to leave you alone, and certainly, we cannot withstand our big brother’s request… even if he doesn’t ask, we will do it voluntarily.”

“We just couldn’t leave you alone,” the other agreed.

Your eyes widened at their honesty but quickly tried to look away to hide the warm color of your cheeks through sipping your tea; Brûlée failed to notice your reaction much to your delight; however, Chiffon saw that subtle reaction.

“Big brother Katakuri is awesome… he’s the most independent sibling out there, and he is so strong that we all aspire to be as strong as him,” Brûlée explains while biting a cupcake. “Anyway, it must be hard for you to be married to him.”

The thought already crossed your mind: marrying him is no easy task. No, marriage is not easy; it bounds you for eternity. It is life-changing because you have already observed it from your siblings and parents. When you agree to be tied to him, you already know that there are things you have to compromise.

“What makes you say that?” you genuinely questioned.

Brûlée clears her throat and pauses, contemplating her sentence, “I mean… big brother is always away and, most times, when he’s here, he is always at work… I can very much perceive the difficulty of having time with him.”

Chiffon frowned at her sister’s question, “Brûlée! That’s not nice…” she turned to you with curiosity shining in her eyes. “Say, sister, what is it like to be married?”

It was the silence that engulfed you. The weight of the girls’ words is evident, leaving you silent for a minute. Chiffon’s question ran into your mind. Usually, you would answer it with fine, but in those moments, something akin to your desire to answer life-changing makes you want to say something different.

“Brûlée and Chiffon…” you softly called and straightly looked into their eyes. “Marriage is something that everyone should take seriously, it is not just the union of both sides, but it is a lifetime chapter that will shape the rest of your life.”

In between your pause, Chiffon interrupts. “Our family focuses on political marriage because it is what our mother wants… Most of us shut the idea of marrying for true love because we are bound with the responsibility of making our mother’s dream come true…” she lowers her head, dejected at the idea of marrying for convenience. “I’m gonna be honest… to see you and big brother Katakuri being in love gives hope that I – would someday have the same bond with you two.”

You could taste the tiniest hint of faith in her tone of your husband’s siblings. Chiffon is the most upfront about marrying for love. You cannot blame them for losing hope in finding affection in marriage; you’re also the same as them. A wave of sympathy came over you that you almost gave her false hope, which you never did.

You stood up and went over between the two girls who were lost in their reveries and gently placed a hand on both, “I cannot deny that political marriage tends to end up tumultuous, but that does not imply it could happen to the both of you. You must also remember that things may turn the way you do not want, but that does not mean it is the end of everything. There is time in everything; perhaps who knows that you and your siblings will find love the same way your brother and I do, or way better than ours.”

You gave them a reassuring smile; you know it is not the best advice, but it was what you could offer. The two-sister-in-law of yours seemed dazed, for all they could do was hug you, which you answered by leaning at their embrace and tapping their cheeks gently.

“We are so lucky to have a big sister like you,” Chiffon uttered, making you smile.

“And I am delighted to have you as my sisters,” you answered truthfully.

The three of you remained in that position as they showered you with questions about the life of matrimony; mainly, it was Chiffon because Brûlée entertained herself with the sweets they brought for you earlier.

“Is the life of being married hard?”

You thought for a second, “I-uhh... Maybe at first? Because of the sudden changes in your life, but as far as I can see… it is not…” you paused, thinking about the days you were newly married.

A feeling of sorrow starts to sprout that you choose to kill it off instantly, you’re with his sister, and it is not the right time for that. “You must learn to compromise; you have to give up something and in the same manner accept him wholeheartedly – his flaws, family – everything!”

“What about you?”

“Me?” you cleared your throat when Chiffon nodded. It didn’t escape from you how Brûlée glanced – also waiting for your answer. It is not because the question is difficult, you already have your answer, but before responding to the young girl’s curiosity, you sipped your tea.

“Well… I also have things to compromise, which is not a big deal because… I want to be part of your brother’s life.”

By that, you know it to yourself. When you agree with the marriage, you already see yourself in a different side of life – a life shared with someone who you vowed with your heart to cherish and love. The only person with whom you’re willing to set everything aside and risk things to be with him.

Chiffon leaned against your embrace, touched by your answer, while Brûlée, with food stuffed in her mouth, chimed in, “I always – no – all of us will forever wonder how marriage life works for the both of you….”

You laugh heartily at her blatant remark. “There are just things that you cannot understand, girls… but soon you will,” you smile.

Brûlée chuckles, “I can still remember that he said almost the same thing.”

You glanced at her – astonished. Did your husband talk about you with his siblings? You cannot see him being like that… even in the house you share with him, he’s different. Nonetheless, Charlotte Katakuri never fails to subside your doubts whenever you think of one; he may be thousands of kilometers away. Still, somehow, he can always make a way to connect with you in every possible way. Honestly, he continues to leave your thoughts at bay. This demeanor of Katakuri is what you’ve been holding onto that tiniest shade of light you see in this marriage.

The girls didn’t stay too long, although they insisted on waiting until you fell asleep. You refused because you were really not ready to rest. It was also getting late, so they had to return to their own shelter because there were responsibilities to do once the sun rose.

Once they left, you started to clean and brew another tea. It has been a long day, but some of you wanted to stay in the living room. You took a blanket and covered yourself as the coldness started to make its way under your clothes. For the past five months, it became your routine to simply sit over a cup of tea with a book in your hand and wait until it is late enough for you to stand up and head to your chamber.

Despite the comfort of the silence and being alone in the middle of the night, words cannot digest in your mind, for your intuition is somewhere in the conversation with Chiffon and Brûlée earlier. You cannot help but think about your answers.

Everything you said is the truth, but when you try to contemplate it… somehow it feels almost illusory.

You thought back on the days of your life before being married.

Political marriage is a thing for powerful families, and you’re familiar with it. When your father broke the news over a fraught dinner, no one was surprised… instead all of your siblings simply nodded, questioning who would be the chosen one while you just silently listened.

As your name left your father’s mouth, everyone was astonished, but mostly, it was you who was lost for words. You have siblings who are far prettier and more adventurous than you are, but it was nerve-wracking when your father shared that the Emperor of the Sea specifically chose you.

Your family is a product of political marriage; as much as you wanted to see the love between your parents, you failed. Being the youngest, your father was very strict with you, which you cannot understand, but you could tell it was mainly because you looked like his wife who ran away from his land.

The marriage was a yes-only answer; when the Emperor of the Sea speaks, no one can say no – or if there’s one, it takes a lot of courage; it sparks a war. But you’re no warrior, just a lady with the blood of royalty of vast influence that the emperor needs.

Since you were young, you knew about the Navy, Emperors, and pirates because of his distrust of you not to run away. He brought you with him to Whole Cake Island whenever he met with the residing Yonkou – Big Mom. You will forever be aghast by the sight of the island and how everything is paradise, everyone was friendly, and you have become accustomed to their treatment to the point that they allowed you to enter their workplace and even baked with them.

You’re a good cook. Being almost restricted to the outside, you busied yourself with cooking. When Big Mom took a liking to your baked cupcakes, that was also the time she became fond of you – which was also a good thing for this political marriage. She can be the worst nightmare for everyone, but she appears to be delicate and sweet whenever it is with you. However, you’re like everyone in her eyes on some occasions.

You shifted position and took notice of the symbolism of your union with Big Mom’s son, bringing you back to your senses. He inserted the ring on your finger with no words to say, yet his actions were enough for you to feel over the moon.

“I could never regret this decision,” you mumbled, smiling as you traced the gems of your wedding ring.

No matter how you think this marriage was your escape from the life you had come to feel suffocated, it is no secret that Katakuri took your hand and led you to a new promising one. He is known to be the strongest general, the ideal brother of his siblings, and you cannot in any way taint his image as the perfect son and sibling. Before you came into his life, there was his family, and you wholeheartedly accepted it.

Katakuri has been away for five months, and you’ve been married for half a year. In the first month, he was at the main island, primarily due to his duties, and when he came home, it would be late… too late that you would fall asleep waiting for him and wake up in your room with him already gone. That series of actions became the routine of the two of you, no matter how you look at it… you just cannot hate your husband.

It has always been like that until now. For the past six months, you waited for Katakuri every night, even when he asked for your permission (despite believing that your words have no power over your mother-in-law), that he’ll be gone for five months. You were waiting for him.

Sometimes, when the sun rises, you bring yourself to your chamber and drift to sleep. Each night seems tiresome, but your determination to see him first once he’s back winning over your weary system.

Your in-laws have no idea about this, Brûlée would sometimes express her distress over you - staying up late, but you would just answer her as you’re not yet tired. In reality, you were just waiting for your man.

Life with him is way different from what you anticipated, but you do know it is bound to happen as he is a man of responsibility. But with the series of absences, you would have concluded that perhaps… he did marry you out of convenience? Or was it just you who thought that this might turn out differently?

From the book you’ve read, different genres, and authors, you had come to believe the hope in everything, and right now, you were clinging to the faith of this marriage.

Compromise. It is one of the things you compromise; you chose to understand him. Above everyone, now that he is married, isn’t his wife’s job to believe in him? Be at his back and support him in everything? You understand him. Never in each second did you resent him for the odd interactions where you are sleeping soundly while being carried by him back to the room shared by the two of you? His responsibility is still his to take, even being tied to you. The least you could do is not add another to his plate, for he already has too much.

Katakuri never raised a hand against you… as a matter of fact, he’s different from what you expected; the subtle treatment of him each night is a message of his affection for you… but you know there is more to it, but his responsibilities should be met first. His siblings are way too expressive than your own husband, at least to their knowledge. However, knowing Katakuri for years, you could tell the emotions that lie in those demeanors. However, due to his schedule, there was little to no exchange of conversations with you, which is beyond belief; you thought it might change someday, but it just worsened.

But it is what it is.

“When will you be back?” you mumbled, staring at the ring almost sorrowfully.

Charlotte Katakuri, a man of few words and the man you vowed to love for eternity, has been away for almost all the days of being married. Although it was the start of something new, you cannot help but imagine that you were falling right into where your parents’ relationship is.

It is clear as bright as the sun that you’re missing your husband, but what else could you do other than wait? You have been waiting since your marriage, how you always stay late in the living room with the hope you’ll see his manly figure entering the house… but no.

At some time during the first month of marriage, you were doing as you do as of the moment. There were times that Katakuri was surprised to see you – awake waiting for him. The two of you would eventually spend the night over a cup of tea or in bed in a warm embrace and exchange of perception on deep topics worth discussing. Katakuri is a man of few words, but much to everyone’s oblivion with you, he can be the most talkative person you love to converse on a topic because he is a man with substance and intellect; you just love to be lost in his thoughts.

Those are rare moments; in most cases, you just fell asleep waiting for him.

Hugging your knees while staring at the ring and thinking about this marriage life took your energy, and you drifted to sleep, hoping that your husband would come home this night. The longing is burning you out that seeing him seems to be next to impossible.

The bed is empty without him – everything is just too different. The deafening silence of your longing for him starts to make its way. You were waiting for him all these times, silently. Somehow, right now, saying it would probably ease you in any way it can.

“I miss you,” you softly mumbled before slumber’s darkness overtook you.

Being married to Charlotte Katakuri is a roller coaster of emotions; he could lift you to the top of the Skypiea similarly and drown you more extensively than the Fish-Man Island. But because he’s the man you never regret marrying, everything about him is worth compromising.

cont.

[dreamlandreader]

Foolish Fire

Chapter One: Little Lights

Merry Christmas! I’m here to deliver one freshly baked fic for the incredibly lovely and wonderfully talented @popjunkie42-blog for the @acotargiftexchange 🫱🏻🎁 Surprise! I’m your Secret Santa! ♥️ I’ve loved chatting with you over the past couple of months! I hope you love this fic as much as I’ve loved every minute of writing it.

Click HERE if you would prefer to read on AO3 Content warnings - Suggestive conversations, bad language and public displays of fae affection 🔥

Word Count - 3201 Words

“Absolutely not, Feyre. No way. Not a chance!” Rhysand insisted for the third time in less than an hour. He may love his mate to the end of his existence and beyond, but his patience was becoming increasingly limited.

It didn’t help Feyre’s case that she was attempting to have this rather alarming conversation whilst Rhys was turning his office upside down, trying to locate an important document that had escaped his attention.

“Why not?” Feyre begged, bouncing her son energetically on her hip and following Rhys across the room as he frantically searched through his neatly arranged files, papers flying everywhere.

“I am not spending a weekend in the woods with half our inner circle, a toddler, and Lucien freaking Vanserra!” Rhys huffed.

“Okay, first of all, it’s not half the inner circle; it’s my sisters and their mates - one of whom happens to be your brother!” Feyre stated plainly, rolling her eyes at her mate’s usual dramatics. “Secondly, I thought you and Lucien were okay now?”

“Well, yes, okay to share dinner and a drink with, not to huddle around a campfire, darling”, he groaned.

“Daddy’s grumpy,” Nyx said to Feyre, hiding a giggle behind his tiny hands. Rhys stuck his tongue out to his son, of course, he would take his mother’s side. The cheeky baby just blew a raspberry back in response.

“I really think this could be good for us, Rhys,” Feyre tried again, ignoring her two boys’ antics and glancing over at her mate’s desk. “I love our lives, and the responsibility we have for this court, but even the High Lord and Lady need a break from time to time. We’ve barely seen each other the past few weeks,”

Feeling the twinges of guilt starting to gnaw at his gut, Rhys looked from his son to his wife just in time to see her pull the exact paper he needed from his desk with knowing eyes. He supposed he had been overdoing it a little the last month or so. Sighing, he reached for the paper with one hand and hooked an arm around Feyre’s waist with the other. 

“I know things have been busy at the moment, but once this treaty is drafted and we’ve managed to convince everyone to sign it, then I’m all yours again, darling,” 

“You need a break, Rhys,” Feyre sighed. 

“When I do eventually go back to it, I’m able to see exactly what I need to do to make it work better,” Feyre said gently, looking at Rhys with such care and warmth in her eyes. “Clearly, all this extra work has your head muddled if you couldn’t find a paper right there on your desk. Give yourself a break, and come back with fresh eyes. The treaty will be all the better for it.”

“And what about Nyx? We can’t take him off into the woods. He’s too young,” Rhys replied, stroking his son’s cheek as he looked at his father with such innocent and loving eyes.

“Mor said she will happily babysit for a couple of days,”

“Aunty Mor! Aunty Mor!” Nyx squealed, clapping his pudgy hands together in excitement.

“You’d love that, wouldn’t you, baby? A whole weekend with Aunty Morrigan,” Feyre said to her son, tickling his round tummy.

Rhysand walked over to his plush velvet couch and flopped down theatrically.

“But why can’t we just throw him an obnoxiously large party like a normal Fae male. Why does it have to be in a forest?”

“Because Elain wanted to plan something special for the first birthday he’ll celebrate as part of a mated couple. She knows he loves the outdoors and thought it would be a great opportunity for us all to go on a family trip. Please, Rhys! Do it for me!”

“Oh, for caldron’s sake! Fine. But I’m not sharing a tent with Cass, no matter how much he begs!” Rhys insisted, giving his mate the most adorable of pouts.

Two weeks later, with a backpack full of supplies and her mate in tow, Feyre sludged through the thick mud and jumped over the tree roots which lay intertwined on the forest floor. Rhysand followed behind her, much less enthusiastically clambering through the woods, a solemn look upon his face, as his wife continued to drag him by the hand, and they fell behind the rest of their group.

Lucien and Elain were bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, leading the group with an impressive energy that Rhys believed could only be explained by their newly formed bond. No one could possibly be that excited to trudge through the woods, he thought. Bouncing along the woodland route, Lucien had not stopped talking for the five hours they’d been walking. Elain was practically skipping alongside him, giving him her most rapt attention.

In typical fashion, Cassian and Nesta, who lingered in the middle of the pack, had spent the day jumping between arguing uncontrollably and restraining themselves from ripping each other’s clothes off. Rhys swore to himself on hour three that if he caught one more scent of their arousal upon the wind, he would winnow himself and Feyre right back home, damn the consequences.

Elain had chosen the Erebus forest on the border between the courts of Night and Day because it was known for its beautiful pathways and glittering lakes. The trees were still lush with leaves despite the autumn days creeping in, leaving the landscape rich with burnished gold, deep russet and warm copper foliage. The most extensive woodland in the entirety of the Night Court, the Erebus forest was the centre of a vast amount of local folklore, much of which Rhysand had been told by his mother in childhood. Tales of devious tricksters and terrifying beasts that prowled the woods were passed down through generations of Night Court young. As the High Lord over this territory, though, Rhysand had never found evidence to suggest that these stories were anything more than myths which warned children against getting lost in such a dense forest.

Elain had chosen the Erebus forest on the border between the courts of Night and Day because it was known for its beautiful pathways and glittering lakes. The trees were still lush with leaves despite the autumn days creeping in, leaving the landscape rich with burnished gold, deep russet and warm copper foliage. The most extensive woodland in the entirety of the Night Court, the Erebus forest was the centre of a vast amount of local folklore, much of which Rhysand had been told by his mother in childhood. Tales of devious tricksters and terrifying beasts that prowled the woods were passed down through generations of Night Court young. As the High Lord over this territory, though, Rhysand had never found evidence to suggest that these stories were anything more than myths which warned children against getting lost in such a dense forest.

Rhysand’s poor mood was punctuated by the slow and steady drip drip drip of rain. “I knew this was a terrible idea,” Rhys mumbled, slicking his damp hair out of his eyes.

“Rhysand!” Feyre exclaimed, stopping dead in her tracks with a venomous look in her eyes and raindrops dripping off the end of her nose. “You survived the blood rite, have fought in some of the deadliest battles in Prythian’s history, and have literally been brought back from death, yet a bit of rain is sending you over the edge?”

Rhysand looked at his muddy feet, raindrops dripping from his eyelashes in shame. He may be hating every moment of this trip, but he could not stand the thought of letting his wife down.

“I didn’t have a choice with those things. I did them to survive. This is supposed to be … fun,” he grimaced, shivering on the spot. “Why can’t we just winnow to a camping spot?”

“You know why. Lucien and Elain have asked we do everything authentically. No magic.”

“Urgh,” he groaned like a petulant child.

“Rhys, I love you so much, but I need you to stop whining! You’re driving me mad,” Feyre begged, feeling dangerously close to the end of her tether.

“Hey, I think this would be a good place to stop and set up camp,” Lucien shouted, interrupting Feyre’s tense glare. Replacing her frown with a smile, she once again grabbed Rhysand’s hand and dragged him along.

It took Rhys and Feyre roughly forty minutes to pitch their tent. Twice as long as Cassian and Nesta, who, after high-fiving and giving one another a delighted grin, sat back and critiqued everyone else’s technique.

The copse of trees under which they set up camp didn’t do much to shield them from the rain that was teaming down in buckets. Still, once the storm began to subside and a fire was built, they could at least start warming themselves.

Rhysand had decided for his mate, and his mate alone, he would try to seem more enthusiastic. So when Lucien suggested he could teach the other two males how to catch fish from a nearby river with their bare hands, Rhys was the first to roll up his sleeves and jump in the freezing water.

Feyre and her sisters, who chose to watch in amusement from the edge of the water, did not even attempt to stifle their laughter. After all, you rarely get front-row seats to watch the High Lord of the Night Court and his general splash around aggressively in water to bolster their male pride.

Lucien was successful in his endeavour and caught a good amount of sizeable fish, which would easily fill the bellies of the entire group. Cassian and Rhys, however, were slightly less successful. Cassian had managed to catch a fish, but it was barely as big as his thumb. Rhys, on the other hand, had caught everything but a fish. An old boot, several empty bottles of fae wine and numerous twigs now lined the bank of the river and stared mockingly at Rhysand, who was beginning to doubt his own skills.

Feyre was right. He had survived much worse conditions than this, he’d even been through much more severe forms of camping than this. During the blood rite, he had been separated from his brothers and had to fight his way back to them, all whilst trying to keep himself alive in the process. He hadn’t thought twice about it back then. He was getting too comfortable with his life in Velaris. Getting used to the calm of a post-war Prythian. Yes, he and his mate had piles of work to keep them busy, treaties to sign, and alliances to make, but all in all, they were in an excellent position, a period of great contentment. That thought made Rhysand’s stomach squeeze. He should not, could not, let himself get complacent.

From then on, Rhysand decided to utilise this trip as an opportunity to re-engage with his survival instincts. Perhaps he could even learn a trick or two from his Autumn Court companion. He would never admit it to Lucien, but some sly observation of his obvious skills would harm no one. And, if his active participation in the group kept his mate happy, then Rhys was even more convinced to oblige.

With his newfound vigour, Rhysand pulled Feyre into his lap whilst dinner was roasted over the campfire. Her suspicions about her mate's sudden change of heart soon disappeared as the fae wine that Elain had snuck into her travel sack began to flow, and laughter echoed around the campsite.

A few hours later, giddy from the wine and encouraged by the slowly setting sun, Rhysand dipped his head into the crook of his mate's neck and began to plant gentle kisses against her soft skin. Within seconds, Feyre turned in his lap, eyes alight with craving, and her lips pressed against his own. His hands slid down her spine and cupped her backside as he let out a low groan.

Just as Rhys slipped his tongue between Feyre's parted lips, the lovers were jerked harshly back into reality by an unamused Nesta.

“For the love of the mother, please stop before I puke up the remains of dinner,” Nesta drawled, giving her sister a pointed look.

“Oh come on, Nesta, as though you and Cass haven’t been giving each other sex eyes all night,” Feyre laughed, as Cassian shrugged in agreement, and Nesta elbowed him in the side.

“At least we are holding back until we get to the tent,” Nesta retorted, raising one eyebrow in a blatant challenge.

Although the sisters were debating who the horniest couple was, there was none of the bitterness that used to linger between them. Since Nyx’s birth, Feyre and Nesta had worked on repairing the fractured parts of their relationship, and though things had been tentative for a while, this sisterly teasing was a clear step in the right direction.

Rhysand’s heart swelled for his mate. He knew just how much this newly developing relationship meant to her, and from the warm smile radiating from his brother, he could tell it meant a lot to Nesta, too.

“All that steamy smut you read and your sister sharing one kiss with her mate is sending you over the edge?” Feyre retorted, a quizzical grin brightening her beautiful face.

“That smut doesn’t require me to watch my sister getting her ass squeezed!” Nesta huffed, amusement sparkling in her eyes.

“Pfft, as if Elain and I aren’t painfully aware that you and Cassian have fucked on every available surface in the House of Wind,”

An awkward cough interrupted the quick retort that was teetering on the edge of Nesta’s lips, and all eyes swung to Cassian, who was rubbing the back of his neck in evident discomfort.

“I hate to break it to you ladies,” Cassian said, low and quiet, as though he was revealing his most precious of secrets. “But I don’t think either of you is the Archeron sister that needs worrying about!”

Nesta and Feyre, along with their mates, all readjusted their gazes towards Elain, who was sat in her mate’s lap, sharing kisses and sensually moving her fully clothed hips against his. She was blissfully ignorant to her sister’s shock as Lucien’s hands slid up both sides of her dress, and she threw back her head in pleasure, allowing him to kiss down her exposed neck towards her chest.

“Oh gods, that’s enough socialising for today. I’m going to bed!” Nesta cried, almost tripping over herself in an effort to unsee what was now burned deeply into her mind.

“Yeah, good plan. Great plan!” Feyre squeaked, cheeks getting hotter by the second, as her desire to winnow away as far as possible grew exponentially.

Rhysand had to laugh as his mate clumsily hurried away towards the tent. What did she expect going away with a freshly mated couple? Even if the initial frenzy had eased off, the first year of a new bond was filled with passion and numerous instances where all rational thought went out of the window. Even now, three years after his own mating bond was cemented, Feyre and Rhys often struggled to resist each other.

Catching up to Feyre, Rhys wrapped his arms around his mate's middle and tucked his head into her neck, nipping at her earlobe.

“I didn’t know you were so easy to make blush, my love,” Rhys chuckled in her ear.

“I didn’t expect to see my sister dry-humping her mate tonight, that’s all,” Feyre replied, laughing too.

"Let's go for a walk, Darling," Rhys purred.

Feyre turned in his arms, a sly grin on her face as she clasped Rhysand's hand in her own, and together, they wandered deeper into the woods, away from the prying ears of their fae brethren.

Breathless from excitement, Rhys twirled his mate towards him, picked her up and pushed her against a nearby tree. As their lips met, teeth clashing in their eagerness, Feyre scraped her nails against Rhysand’s scalp in the way she knew always made the male shiver with anticipation.

Rhys nipped and sucked at Feyre’s lower lip, sliding his hands under her thick jumper and lazily working them up her body. Tracing the bottom of her lacy bra around to the back, Rhys was moments away from undoing the clasp when a sharp sound perforated the heated silence of the woods.

The snap of the twig had the lovers on instant high alert. Rhys tried to reassure himself that perhaps it was just one of the other couples from their party, who, like Feyre and himself, felt like a midnight tryst under the stars. But then, in the distance, a soft flickering light melted through the frigid black of night.

“What is that?” Feyre faltered, peering around her mate’s shoulder to better see the potential danger ahead.

"I don't know, but it's coming this way. Perhaps it's time to leave." Rhys replied, gripping Feyre's waist more firmly but lowering her to the ground to give her the chance to run if needed.

As the light drew ever closer, it became apparent that the source of light did not come from the lamp of another weary traveller or even as the result of a predator out in the dead of night ready to catch some unsuspecting prey. Instead, it appeared that the glow was produced by a small, illuminated, floating creature.

"Fireflies?" Feyre asked, squinting into the distance. The couple's fae hearing picked up the sound of tiny wings fluttering against the brisk autumn air as the light danced closer.

"No, they look like-"

"Butterflies!" Feyre gasped as dozens of dazzling butterflies swirled around them like autumn leaves on the breeze, leaving a gleaming trail in the path behind them.

Feyre reached out a hand and let out a small laugh as one of the creatures landed on her index finger, its magic bouncing off her own, sending a warm tingle throughout her body.

Then, as quickly as the golden butterflies appeared, they began to drift off and were, one by one, swallowed by the shadows. Only the gentle butterfly on Feyre's hand remained, casting a glow that lit her face with wonder.

Slowly taking flight, the beautiful creature seemed to beckon Feyre to follow it deeper into the woods. Feyre felt in her very soul that it was of the utmost importance that she went with it, and she shared this thought with her mate. Rhysand, however, was uncertain. He scoured his memory for any recollection of a creature quite like this, with luminous wings and a beckoning pull, but he came up short. The only tale he could remember was of the Will-o'-the-wisp, tricky little beasts who masqueraded as distant lamp lights, only to deceive weary travellers into getting lost, often leading them into mortal danger, delivering them to foul monsters who would gladly tear them apart. But, in all the stories he had heard of these characters, they had never taken the form of such placid creatures.

"Come on," Feyre beamed, striding forward, sparkling eyes wide.

"Feyre no!" Rhys replied, reaching a hand out towards her, but he merely blinked, and his mate had disappeared into the inky night.

✨ Click here to head to the series master list ✨

[writing-oof]

I’m a Farmer, Not a Babysitter (oops)

Day Two: Potato Farmer Technoblade! He’s certainly a dude!

I ended up with two stories I couldn’t pick from in the thirty minutes, so here they are!

Farmer Techno (tw: Wilbur is dead)

"This is about Wilbur?" Technoblade asks.

"Yes," the social worker says, "We've tried to get in contact with your father, but we couldn't reach him."

"What's wrong?"

"We do our best to keep families together, Mr. Craft," the woman says, "We wanted to see if Philza has any interest in taking custody of Fundy, as his mother has denied it."

"Who?" Techno asks, and the phone is silent for a beat too long.

"Wilbur Soot's son?"

Techno bluescreens/

"Wilbur doesn't have a son," he says, but really he wouldn't know. Wilbur wasn't exactly showing up to the family reunions. Neither was Techno, for that matter.

"He did," the woman says, and that's that.

---

The farm isn't really suited for a kid.

There's dangerous experiment around every corner, and the chickens have already tried to peck Fundy to death, sniffing the fox under his skin. Fundy, still the weirdest kid Techno's ever met, decided he loved them almost immediately after that, and he hasn't stopped trying to break into the coop since.

Technoblade's lucky that Ranboo was looking to take more hours around the farm, milking the cows and mucking the stables and tending the crops more in that first week than he probably ever has in his life.

Fundy isn't old enough for him to leave unsupervised, especially since he's prone to turning into a fox and squirming through the hole under the baseboards in the kitchen like a snake.

Ranboo's a godsend those first few weeks, taking up the bulk of the labor around the farm and still making time to entertain Fundy for a few hours while Techno makes dinner and tries to figure out what the hell he's supposed to do now.

He's not a dad, and he never wanted to be one. There's a reason his only contact with kids was the schoolkids who came by to milk cows twice a month.

Fundy needs so much that Techno just doesn't know how to provide. He cries, sometimes, and Techno tries to comfort him as best as he can. He makes Fundy's room the safest space in the house and fills it with everything Fundy wants, from toys he saw on their four-channel-television, to photos of the parents he'll never see again.

It gets easier as the weeks draw on and Fundy talks to him more, tells him stories about his life with Wilbur before they lost everything. Techno listens, comforts when he needs to, and does his best to make his house a home.

But, as the month draws to a close, the summer slipping by in a blur of grief and fireworks, Techno's reminded that he's going to have to get back to the farm. Ranboo has school and, even if he didn't, Techno feels awful seeing how exhausted he is at the end of the day.

The farm's a big job, especially for a high schooler.

If Ranboo were any less worried about being alone with Fundy, he'd probably ask him to babysit instead.

As it is, Techno has to scour the area for anyone who would be willing to watch a hybrid kid on the outskirts of the city.

The first person he considers, a florist named Hannah, can't be away from the city for as long as he needs.

The next spends way too long comparing Fundy to the kind of foxes she shoots in the autumn for Techno to anything but throw her out of the house.

By the time he's met his fifteenth option, Technoblade has almost given up.

He asks Ranboo, just to see, if he knows anyone who'd be willing to watch a hybrid.

The next day, Technoblade has the most intense interview of his life.

…

Tommy hits it off with Fundy immediately.

In the thirty minutes he spends answering questions, Fundy's already declared him his uncle twice. It's an improvement, from the last sitter he tried to bite no less than four times.

…

Technoblade is pretty sure that Tommy isn't human.

He doesn't know how to bring it up, but his chickens have some sort of sixth sense for these things and they guard their eggs around Tommy like he's bound to snatch them up.

…

Tommy slots himself into their lives like he was always there.

Techno thinks that, if he were here, Wilbur would have called Tommy his little brother.

Instead, Technoblade calls him Theseus.

Instead, Technoblade sets up the third room for when Tommy doesn't want to bother heading back into the city.

Instead, Technoblade welcomes him home.

.

.

Fundy Thievery (tw: sad boi hours)

Two hours in and Fundy has to concede that it really *is* just a farm.

There's no secret room full of Wither skulls, or a chest full of weapons and totems.

There's a few hundred full of potatoes, though. Fundy grabs a few stacks to squirrel back to his den, the crow looking at him judgmentally.

Fundy flicks it off. It chortles, a mocking laugh, and settles into his hair.

When he reaches the treeline, the bird finally fucks off back to its nest, not following him home like he'd worried it might.

…

Fundy comes back the next day.

He doesn't want to. He wouldn't if he could avoid it, but he knows Techno has health pots somewhere and his arm still won't bend the way he needs it to.

He'd tried to shift only once, but he's pretty sure that only made it worse, a screaming pain from his elbow to his wrist.

So, stealing from his sort-of-uncle it is.

He's just lucky the dogs don't lunge for him, and that the crows seem content to keep their silence.

At least, no one's come tearing into his den with an axe, so he figures they haven't said anything, to Philza or to Techno.

[raccoonfallsharder]

Window Across the Galaxy ✧*:･ﾟ updated 10/26

18+ only | rocket x oc | 17/26 Chapters | WIP | Word Count: pending.

girl falls first; racoon falls harder.

His head is down, and she can see the sullen set of his shoulders. Jolie sets Groot onto the floor gently, and he gallops over to his adopted father and climbs onto a couple crates next to Rocket to watch him while he works.  Should she say good morning? Will that just annoy him more? She’s hurt and scared, yes, and even a little annoyed in her more practical moments. But she reminds herself, again, that what this is really a result of - probably, mostly - is Rocket being frightened or wounded, and she doesn’t want him to be alone in that. But he doesn’t exactly look receptive right now. She chews her lip, then winces and shakes her head, and tries to distract herself by doing a quick check on the kitchen cabinets. Most of the dishware is anchored down in the built-in, padded racks that come standard-issue in ships these days, but a few of the plates are chipped on the edges, and one of the new glasses is cracked down the middle. She tosses the glass into the compressor.  All in all, the damage is less than she’d expected, and most things are salvageable. She hesitates, then heads to the hold, peering out into the forest, toward the spaceship Ego left behind.  Rocket doesn’t spare her a glance.

[NEW 10/26] ✧･ﾟ:*Chapter XVII. A Seedling. A Fox. A Little Girl. in which the party is divided.

lots of angst. healing isn't linear but rocket is in a much better position to come back from the consequences of his actions now than he was way back when they were on conjunction. unfortunately there's never enough time for these things, is there ~ ♡

General summary/notes + links to recently preceding chapters behind the cut. let me know via comment, message, or ask if you'd like to be added or removed from my fanfic taglist ♡

Rocket is captured by a Ravager crew hoping to get rich off the excessively large bounty on his head. Throwing a wrench in everyone’s plans is the Terran girl they hired to do some freelance assessing on a recent haul of goods they’ve seized from a Xandaran luxury liner. Oops.

slight AU starting pre-GOTG volume 1 (but will hit most of the same major plot points). slow burn + eventual smut with a lot of pining in the middle. kinda enemies-to-lovers? (but only one of these idiots thinks they're enemies). let me be real with you: this fic is really about wish-fulfillment. not just the eventual smut (but that too). mostly i just want someone to be nice to my best boy raccoon

*･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ:*✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*

Chapter I. A Delicacy. in which our reluctant heroes meet atop a crate of Sovereign porn in the bowels of a Ravager ship.

Chapter II. Monster For A Pet. in which one hero wrestles with his inner Groot, and the other is quite possibly a moron.

Chapter III. A Kindness. in which Rocket gets in his own damn way: not for the first time, and certainly not for the last.

Chapter IV. Got There First. in which our heroes obtain an arsenal and street food.

Chapter V. Things No-One Has Said Before. in which one hero refuses to babysit and the other refuses to leave.

Chapter VI. Two and a Half Billion Units. in which we lean into the “they were roommates” trope. Jolie has misgivings, while Rocket has fantasies - about getting rich, of course.

Chapter VII. I'm Here. in which we visit Knowhere.

Chapter VIII. The Care & Feeding of Human Pets. in which our heroes practice breathing and we lean into a new trope: “there was (technically) one bed.”

Chapter IX. Scrapmetal and a Dream. in which we redefine homemaking.

Chapter X. Thin Fucking Ice.in which our heroes get fucked. Not in the good way.

Chapter XI. Let It Be .in which Xandar is saved and good lives are lost.

Chapter XII. So Much It Hurts. in which we try not to fuck up the vibes.

Chapter XIII. Don’t Wait. in which a lost sister is found and Drax grapples with the concept of sarcasm.

Chapter XIV. Exactly Like a Flower. in which comfort is shared.

Chapter XV: Galaxy-Breaking Shit. in which more comfort is shared, and life is good. Briefly.

Chapter XVI. Run. in which Rocket falls victim to his superstitions.

Chapter XVII. A Seedling. A Fox. A Little Girl. in which the party is divided.

Chapter XVIII. I Happen to Know a Guy. in which our heroes get fucked. Again. Still not in the good way.

Chapter XIX. He Was Loved. in which a planet is killed, a friend is made and lost, and nobody still has any frickin’ tape.

Chapter XX. Some Nerve. in which an ultimatum is given.

Chapter XXI.

Chapter XXII.

Chapter XXIII.

Chapter XXIV.

Chapter XXV.

Chapter XXVI.

Epilogue: Interviewing Rocket & Jo. ten years after Window ends. short/drabbly, silly fluff.

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