#it hasn't even been one full year since i finished it so you all just have to put up with me for a little while longer

[nonstoplover]

sleep without you ~ charles leclerc (cl16)

my masterlist | my f1 masterlist

pairing: charles leclerc x fem!reader

song inspiration: sleep without you ~ brett young

summary: charles struggles to function properly without her by his side, or a story of a night without his girlfriend.

words: 2.1K

warnings: nothing, just fluff and a slightly clingy charles baby <3

a/n: idk why but this song honestly screams charles to me whenever i hear it, so i just had to make it happen. also this was supposed to be posted on my one year f1-aversary as celebration (well technically it should be more if counting my childhood f1 years but anyway), but i was so caught up in another wip that i couldn't do it. so happy anniversary to me and f1 (two weeks late) with this lil ficlet <3 thankful for all that f1 gave me.

big thanks to the amazing lovely silverstonesainz for helping me make this better and to the equally awesome monzabee for making me much less anxious with her words. love you sm queens!!

please, don't be a ghost reader, leave a comment or rb!

Charles spends a whole afternoon trying to convince her to have a night out with her friends. Just because they're in a relationship doesn't mean they can't have fun without the other as well from time to time. There are still a couple of weeks left of winter break, plenty of opportunity to spend time just the two of them before the season starts again. So the usual point of view, the usual reasoning doesn't stand a chance – that they should spend as much time together as they can, before he's back to travelling all around the world.

"Go to a club, grab some drinks, dance and laugh the night away", he tells her. The usual bestie coffee dates or walks in the park that she usually raises as argument are not the same as a night out, and she hasn't done that for so long now. Definitely not since he's been back home, and he knows just how much she enjoys dancing her heart out.

(y/n) agrees after a short while, accepting his reasons, knowing full well that he's right, and after a few phone calls she starts getting ready, soon walking out the front door, dressed all pretty and dolled up.

Doesn't take long before Charles realises what he's done. A feeling tingles in his chest, one he recognises swiftly. He's miserable. Solely because she's not there by his side, as he makes dinner, eats it – all by himself –, before settling on the couch to occupy himself with a movie. It doesn't matter though, he doesn't pay any attention to it. He doesn't even know what's going on, he hasn't heard a single line, too busy thinking about her.

When the credits start to roll, he switches the TV off with a surprised look in his eyes – how did it already end? He doesn't even remember the first scene ending. Then he moves into the bathroom to do his night routine, from taking a shower to putting on some skincare products, all the while wondering how long she will be out for? Will she come home soon? Hope tingles in his chest that the answer to his question is yes.

Having finished with everything, Charles lies down in bed, trying to read a book, then scrolling on social media, doing anything to keep his mind from straying over and over again back to her. He knows this is stupid, he was the one telling her to go out, why is he like this now? Lying awake on his side of the bed, the fingers on his right hand tracing figures onto the sheet where her body usually rests.

This is pathetic, Charles thinks. He never thought he would be like this, so miserable and impatient just because she's not at home, with him. He's tossing around, unable to find a comfortable position for himself – it seems like he forgot how to sleep without her. No matter how many times he's had to do just that, in hotel rooms all around the world. The past few weeks erased all those nights from his mind.

The delicious scent of her shampoo fills his lungs when his face lands just a bit too close to her pillow, and all of a sudden it's like he's burying his nose in her hair. It only makes him miss her more. Sleeping is impossible, he knows it now. He's only daydreaming, not actually dreaming, of her arriving home and being in his arms again.

Charles imagines the way she dances in the middle of the floor, her hands in the air, shouting the lyrics loudly to the song currently playing – most probably something she knows and loves –, and he can't help but smile fondly. Just the thought of her having fun is enough to make him happier, even in his misery.

He pictures a scene where a random guy tries to get too close to her, as it has happened so many times, whenever he leaves her alone for a few minutes at any club they've been to. It doesn't matter where they are, doesn't matter if they spent the night so far together, all over each other, someone comes into the picture immediately when he leaves, either to grab a drink for the two of them, or to go to the restrooms.

It's not like he doesn't understand those guys. She's simply gorgeous, and radiates such a vibrant aura that everyone is drawn to her. He honestly just finds it funny at this point. Nothing makes these men back off more effectively than her. Oh, the amount of times he bit back laughter watching the scene unfold from a distance. Seeing men crumble and disappear looking all ashamed, what a sight that is. And he doesn't have to do anything.

He wonders how many times she's had to fight off guys so far tonight, with him not even in the club, and he finds he can't wait to hear all her stories of the newest victims. Pierre never understood why Charles found it so amusing, he didn't seem to get it. The trust they have in each other. Knowing that it's him she'll come home to at the end of the night is enough to make him only feel entertained by each instance, and not irritated at the slightest bit.

But thinking about (y/n) fighting off men is only good enough entertainment for a limited amount of time, and soon the smile fades back into a miserable pout on his lips, as his thoughts turn back into ones of impatience, trying to make time move faster with short little prayers falling as mumbles from his lips.

With a sigh, he eventually sits up, looking around to find something he can do. At last he decides on grabbing a drink himself, maybe it will help stop the flow of thoughts racing in his head. A little welcomed dullness.

He takes a seat at the kitchen table, sipping on the liquid in his glass, enjoying the feeling of the light alcohol gently burning his throat on the way down, numbing his tongue along the way. His fingers stay restless, now drumming on the wooden surface. A few minutes later he realises they play a song, soundless except the soft thud of his fingertips with the occasional louder tap or little scratch of his nails when a finger finds a different angle to hit the table with.

A melody appears in his mind as he watches his fingers move, imagining how it would sound if it was his piano instead of the kitchen table. He would go sit at the beautiful, white instrument and try it, but he doesn't want to be so loud at such a late hour. And anyway, he's way too comfortable sitting where he is to stand up and go somewhere else.

He looks out the window, catching sight of the moon – almost full, just a tiny bit of it missing, and Charles examines the craters that are visible to the naked eye, though only as spots of a darker shade on the round shape.

Maybe he'll name this new musical piece that's being born in his head right now after her – well, if he ever finishes it. He'll keep the usual format, three letters of a city name and a date, only this time putting the time and place of when they first met. Or should it be the time and place of when he first asked her out? Or their first date? Or when she agreed to move in with him? God, there are way too many options to choose from. He decides to put this problem aside for now, he's not in a rush to name a song not even written yet.

As the clock on the oven changes all four numbers to display 2am, the action rouses his attention and makes him tear his eyes away from the moon and look at the numbers instead.

He would've never ever thought that he'd be like this.

Raising his glass he notices that there's only a small sip left in it, which he downs in a short moment. His tongue darts out to gather all the minuscule drops that might rest on his lips still, not wanting to waste even that much of the delicious drink. Then he stands up, placing the glass down into the sink, making a mental note to clean it in the morning before (y/n) wakes up.

Just as he ponders putting another movie on, maybe only as background noise if nothing else, his phone buzzes in the pocket of his pants. Taking his time, Charles pulls the device out, expecting nothing more than a useless notification from a social media app he shouldn't spend so much time on anyway.

Instead what he finds is a text. From her.

in a cab, be home soon &lt;3

Charles lets out a relieved sigh, his lips involuntarily curving into a smile, one that you could almost call giddy. It's not just the thought that she's going to be here soon, but the fact that she remembered to text him to let him know. He's in her mind, just like she's in his, even though she's been out with friends, having fun, drinking, while he's only been at home, all alone with his misery.

Now he can move back to bed happily, knowing that shortly she will join him.

It truly doesn't take long until Charles hears the front door creak as it opens, then the familiar jingle of her keys hitting the drawer in the hall, and his heart flutters with happiness. Finally. The high heels she chose to wear hit the floor with a soft thud as she presumably removes them, and the growing anticipation in his body seems to eat him whole.

Her steps grow louder and louder as she moves closer to the bedroom, and time slows for Charles. He watches in slow motion as she appears in the doorframe, being propped up on his elbows to have a better view, a lazy smile curling onto his face, and his eyes lidded with drowsiness.

"You're still awake?" (y/n) giggles, pausing in her steps for a second as her eyes take in the view he provides lying there. His lack of reply to her text made her think he's already fallen asleep.

"Of course," he mumbles. "Come to bed."

His voice is whiny and he behaves like an actual child, he knows, but he can't help it. He wants to sleep, and he wants to sleep beside her, feeling her warmth against his skin. That's the only way he can.

"Let me get changed first," she starts towards the closet, when a grunt of pure displeasure sounds from him along with the thump of his back as he falls into a lying position once more, making her glance back at her boyfriend. "What, can't wait a single minute?"

"No," he protests, pouting . "I've been waiting for hours."

His accent comes forth stronger when he's sleepy, and she can't help but smile adoringly upon hearing it. He's just so cute.

"Okay, fine, you'll get one kiss," she gives in. Charles resembles a lost puppy and she's sure he knows that's her weakness. She can't ever say no to anything when he looks like that.

So that's how she finds herself crawling into bed, trying to get as close as possible to the boy without causing damage to her dress. He grins, as much as his tired facial muscles allow, awaiting her lips touching his own. His pout becomes even more apparent, right until the moment he finally gets what he wants. His goodnight kiss. It's soft, slow and just so full of love it makes both their hearts flutter.

Then she caresses his cheek gently, whispering a barely audible good night, sleep tight to him, before moving back off the bed to disappear in the closet, leaving Charles to think about how he'd happily convince her again of going out if it means she'll come home to him, looking so radiant, properly buzzing with energy, eyes shining, hair messy but still looking so breathtaking. It's obvious how much it meant to her that she had this night out. He made her happy with telling her to go out with her friends, and he didn't regret it, despite all the miserable hours.

By the time she finishes her night routine and walks back into the bedroom once more, he's fast asleep, quiet snores filling the silence of the room. She bites into her bottom lip to keep in the giggle threatening to burst out, and with a heart full of adoration and a head slightly dizzy from the drinks she's had, she gets in bed beside him, snuggling up close to him, revelling in the feeling of his arms instinctively finding their way around her body even when he's sleeping.

He truly only waited for her to come home and give him a goodnight kiss to finally be able to fall asleep.

[sweetbans29]

Friendship Bracelets - CC

Pairing: Caitlin Clark x Reader

Summary: After getting out of a 2-year relationship, your friends encourage you to get back in the game by putting your phone number on some friendship bracelets for the Taylor Swift concert. You decided to make just one and that one ended up on the one and only Caitlin Clark.

Warnings: Swifties lol, this is like a major cliche but I do not care I am also going to change the order of the setlist to make this fic work better please don't come after me, cheating (not involving Caitlin)

Word Count: 2.3k

Sweetbans Masterlist

AN: This is nothing other than a figment of my imagination.

2 years. 2 years down the drain. 2 years you gave to this guy only to be left heartbroken and angry.

It had been two weeks since you found out your long-term boyfriend had been cheating on you. Something was off with the two of you for a few months before you found out but when you did it all clicked. That was no excuse for what he did, it honestly only made you hate yourself for not ending it when things started to change.

When you found out, you left quietly.

He was expecting you to lash out and make a scene. He expected you to break things and hit him and show all signs of what he did had an effect on you, at least any sign that you were affected. You gave him none of that.

When you found out - you packed up your things while he was at work and left without as much as a note. He tried calling and texting you for the better part of a week before you finally decided to meet with him.

The two of you sat down at a local diner. You barely looked at him as he tried to come up with any sort of excuse. It was miserable. when you were done sitting there watching him struggle, you finally spoke.

"I don't want to hear any of it. All I want is an apology and I will be going my own way. That is the least you can do for throwing away the last five years," you say making direct eye contact with him now.

He sits there, speechless. He tries to find words and you sit there watching him try to form an apology. Before he can form any coherent response, you get up and walk out not wanting to give the man in front of you any more time.

The next week was a rough one for you. You were incredibly thankful that you have a solid group of friends who have been nothing but supportive. They watched over you like a hawk, making sure you were always with someone and were kept busy.

That leads you to sitting at your friend's kitchen table, listening to Tayor Swift, snacking on some Chick-fil-A all while making friendship bracelets for the concert you guys will be going to in a few days.

You are focused on getting the beads threaded on the string in front of you when your friend hits your elbow causing you to spill all the beads you just put on.

"Cas! I was just about to finish this one," you say frustrated as you are on bracelet 20. Your friends told you you had to make 50 before you could even think about leaving the table. You gather the beads you were just using and begin to start making it again.

"I'm sorry!" She says as she grabs a nugget. One of your other friends chimes in after looking at your pile of bracelets.

"You know, it might not be the worst idea to put your number on some of those bracelets." She says as if you didn't just get out of a long-term relationship. You just give her a look.

"This could be good!" Another one of your friends yells as she points at you. "You will be in a stadium full of girls, singing their heart out to Taylor Swift - it has been a minute since you've been on the fun side." She says referring to your last relationship being Jacob, before him, you were dating a girl and were so much freer.

"Guys, it has literally been 2 weeks. It hasn't even been a month since I have been single. Let a girl heal," you say getting annoyed at your friends.

"Come on, it doesn't have to be serious. This could be a good distraction for you!" One friend says. Another pitches in, "Ya! That's actually a good idea, just something fun, a little distraction!"

"I am not going to put my number on a beaded bracelet," you say. "That seems desperate and I am not desperate, I am healing," You whisper the last part.

"Come on, just a few." You are now being passed the number beads. You make no move to grab them.

You know your friends mean well but this was a little much. They were lucky you were even going - the thought of going to a TSwift concert right after a breakup is daunting.

"No." Is all you say.

"Yes, you are going to make a few, you don't have to give them out if you don't want but if you make them then at least you have the option." One of your friends says.

"Fine, I will make ONE that has my number," you say so they would all shut up. "But I have no plans of handing it out."

The rest of the night is spent finishing up the bracelets. You made so many bracelets, you felt like your fingers were going to fall off.

The day of the concert is pure chaos. Your friends wanted to get there like 10 hours early to get in line for merch and make sure you have plenty of time to take photos. You follow along with your friends, letting them do whatever they want before the concert starts. YOu are a Taylor fan, but not nearly as much as they are.

Once you all make your way to your seats you are on the end of your group of friends. The group of girls next to you is already sitting. You take a seat next to a girl in a light sage dress. You say a quick hello as you get yourself situated.

Part of your group decides to go grab drinks and snacks while you opt to stay and watch over everyone's stuff. You tell them to grab you a drink and whatever looks good.

You sit there looking around at all the girls wearing their Taylor themes outfits and getting to have the time of their lives. Meanwhile, you are just trying to survive the night.

"Hey, I dropped my chapstick, would you mind grabbing it?" The girl next to you says.

"Ya, no problem," you say and lean down and grab the little stick that made its way under your legs. You pass it to the girl next to you who you notice is now alone. "You're friends also head to get snacks?"

"Restroom," she says with a little laugh. "Yours go to get snacks?"

You nodd also letting out a little laugh. "Can't leave the stuff alone."

You introduce yourself as you are about to be screaming song lyrics right next to this girl all night.

"Nice to meet you, I'm Caitlin," she says.

The two of you enter into some small talk and learn you both attend the same school. It is big enough that it doesn't surprise you that you haven't seen each other before. What once started as small talk, turns into talking life. She tells you how there are some big decisions that she is going to have to make coming up - she keeps it pretty vague but mentions it has to do with her career. You mention your recent breakup and how you the guy cheated. Her hand comes to yours as she apologizes that you had to go through that. You give her a small smile and tell her it was for the better.

She sat there listening to the most beautiful girl in the world talk about how someone treated you like trash. All she wanted to do was hold you and show you what love really is. It seems cliche that she is having all these thoughts at concert with a girl she just met but they way you talked about life had her thinking anything is possible.

The conversation continues as you talk about growing up and how you both chose to go to Iowa for school. You learn she plays basketball and you tell her you dance. She slides the comment of how you should come to one of her games. Of course, you say yes, not thinking anything of it.

Both of your groups of friends get back around the same time and you both turn back to conversations with them.

When the concert starts you get mesmerized by the performance. Everyone is standing and singing along to all of the songs.

The first time you cry is when Taylor sings The Archer. You try to hide it to the best of your ability. Your friends are too into the concert to notice which you are thankful for but as your arms wrap around yourself to provide any sort of comfort, you feel a hand come up and give your arm a little squeeze. You look over to see Caitlin's hand on your arm, rubbing it with her thumb. The part of you that once felt so empty, is now a little fuller.

Neither of you say anything about the little moment. You both just continue to enjoy the concert.

It is during Cruel Summer that you are back screaming at the top of your lungs. When Taylor gets to the bridge you grab Caitlin's hand and use it as a microphone, pretending you are on stage. She just laughs at you and takes in the sight of you living your best life. At the end of the song you pull her in so you can say something.

"I would apologize but I am not sorry at all," you say with a laugh. She leans over to your ear.

"Please never even think about apologizing for that," is what she says with a little wink. You just look at her and shake your head with a smile.

The night continues with you singing with your friends, both the ones you came with and the new ones you met at the concert.

The next time you cry is during Tolerate It, your friend that you came with brings you into her side and just holds you. While she is holding you, you feel a hand come and take yours, intertwining your fingers and giving your hand a squeeze while rubbing her thumb against your skin.

You don't know what it is about the girl but her comfort is one that you haven't felt in a while. It is peaceful, not forced. She brings a calmness to you and you haven't known her for more than 2 hours. Anyone else would be mortified with your sea of emotions - going from screaming at the top of your lungs to sobbing about your cheating ex-boyfriend but not her. She has embraced it all and continues to embrace it.

It is during You Belong With Me that you notice she is looking at you more than usual. You decide to sing it with her and turn to her during one of the verses. By the time the chorus comes around, she is singing it right to you. You sing along trying to not let the words of the song cut too deep.

She is the one to grab your hand during this song and belt out the words to the bridge. You just watch her in awe, seeing her let loose for what you feel like the first time this evening.

At the end of the song, you put your hand on her shoulder to help steady yourself as you reach up to whisper in her ear, "That was adorable, carefree looks good on you."

She leans back down to you, "You make it easy."

The rest of the night is filled with singing your heart out and making little comments here and there to the girl next to you.

One of Taylor's final songs is one that you have been waiting to hear all night, Enchanted. She does a beautiful acoustic version that has you whispering it along with her. You don't know when it happens but Caitlin takes hold of your arm and turns you to face her. Caitlin is now singing with you (to you). You can't take your eyes off of hers as her hand doesn't leave you. Caitlin, in nothing above a whisper, is singing the bridge of the song hoping that you know she is not just singing the song but means every word.

"Please don't be in love with someone else, please don't have somebody waiting on you." She sings looking right into your eyes.

Who in the world would have imagined this, a beautiful girl singing Taylor songs to you at a Taylor concert. Picking up the pieces of your heart all while only knowing you for less than a day.

When the song comes to an end, you don't know what overcomes you but you bring your hand up to her cheek and just stroke her cheek with your thumb. You then bend down and grab your bag, looking for something that you buried it in before the concert.

You find what you are looking for and give it one look before grabbing Caitlin's wrist and putting the bracelet on her. She gives you a slightly confused look, not understanding why you pulled the bracelet out of the bag and didn't take it off your wrist like you had with all the other girls around you.

You give a nod down for her to look at it and she does. When she sees the bracelet you gave her contains 10 digits on it, she instantly smiles.

The concert comes to an end and everyone begins clearing the stadium. You say goodbye to your new friends, making sure Caitlin is the last of them.

When saying bye, you bring her into a hug.

"I am not ready to jump into anything, but you are truly incredible and I would love to get to know you more. I only made one of those bracelets and wasn't planning on handing it out but you are something special." You say and begin to release her. She doesn't let go of you but rather squeezes you tighter.

"You are worth waiting for," she says, and your heart rate increases. "I will take it as slow as you need.'"

She releases you and you just smile at her.

This night marks a new beginning, one that you can't want to dive into.

AN: Yes, there will eventually be a part two. No, I do not know when. But I promise it will come. Let me know what you think! And as always, thank you for the love and support 🤍

[losing-it-lately]

Hey love! Idk how you feel about this idea but what about it is Remus birthday/Christmas (I just need an excuse for a gift) and he hasn't told the reader that he is a werewolf but she figured it out on her own and gifted him wolfsbane that she made herself just for him. I picture lots of fluff and cutesy feelings and Remus just confesses his love (I imagined they are just friends at that point) and he is very emotional.

Feel free to change, adapt or not write it at all! Thank you so much ❤️‍🩹

Remus' Birthday

wc: 1k

remus lupin x reader angst with a happy ending

i actually wished for another request as you sent this in which is why i wrote it so quick 😭

This week was going horrendously with assignments all over the place and one of James’ pranks malfunctioning and the grating feeling of the moon inching towards a full beam in the sky; all of that and the week ended in Remus’ least favourite day of the year, his birthday.

It had been like that since he was young. The first birthday after his new affliction was scarring to say the least and every birthday from before it was promptly erased from his memory after Remus heard that revisiting a memory would lead to misremembering it; those birthdays with his mother were only now saved for the night of his birthday, a way to relive a happier time with her in the quiet darkness of his bed.

Birthdays felt lonely- everyone else celebrated getting taller and older and more interesting, but for Remus it felt like a constant reminder that he was leaving something he never got the chance to experience, his youth. he had scars and pains that no one understood and he felt like birthdays were only for people who deserved another year of living, but with all the pain he brought to those he loved, he didn't know if he deserved that year.

The week had been full of stress and Remus wallowing in his own melancholy. It made it worse that you hadn't been anywhere near him for the past few weeks. His worst fears creeping into the cracks of his mind, that maybe you knew, or worse maybe you didn't, but had just gotten tired of the person he was.

Remus tried to push all of these thoughts out, you would hate knowing he was thinking of you like this, but his thoughts were haywire with the moon being full. Whilst the wolfsbane stopped him from turning, it didn't prevent the ghost pain or the mental pain. The other boys had all left the dorm, giving Remus his time to grieve the night before his birthday and instead sleeping with girlfriends or friends in other rooms. He had told them he needed to be alone.

Lying, shirtless with some ratty pajama bottoms and staring at the ceiling. His eyes were encrusted with small tears that threatened to fall at any moment; his mother's face becoming bleary in his memory- how many more times would he be able to imagine it without changing the memory, surely it was running out. He forced his eyes open, the cold breeze of the night hitting him and bringing chills all over his body, the only distraction offered was a single meek knock on the door.

“I need to speak to Remus,” your voice bles through every crevice of the room; maybe this could be his new memory. He stood up from the bed and crossed the room til his hand rested on the door knob.

I ’ll only open it if she asks one more time. I want her to want to come in... And as he finished that thought, your voice pleaded with him again, “please, I need to speak with him.”

The door swung open. Even with all his height, Remus looked small, and you couldn't handle it, a frown crumpling your face. His eyebrows scrunched up seeing your reaction. It felt wrong watching your eyes sadden noticing Remus’ wet cheeks and red nose. You reached up and wiped his cheeks, it wasn't enough for you, but the softness was more than enough for him- this was definitely his new memory, he decided then to save his mother for other days.

Your eyes began to well up and he wrapped his arms around you. “‘M sorry, I didn't mean to make you cry,” he whispered into your ear, softly as if he was scared you would disappear from his arms like a mirage.

“Don’t apologise, I’m here for you.” You tried to laugh but it came out wet and stunted. “I wanted to talk to you.”

He stepped back and suddenly you missed his warmth, but at least he hadn't let go. With his hand wrapped around your arm, you both walked inside into the dark dorm room. He light a small candle and let it flicker on the windowsill before sitting next to you on his bed. Of course you had guessed his bed, it had smelt like firewood and old books and Remus between the layered scents of detergent and dryer sheets.

“Happy birthday,” you offered quietly, with a small smile gracing your face. Suddenly, Remus’ week wasn't so bad. So caught up on your hope and kindness, he hadn't even registered the wrapped gift until you shoved it in his hands. It was messy and slightly crushed but still, the wrapping had your love written all over it. He delicately began to peel back tape and paper until all was left was a large stack of chocolate and a vial of daisy yellow liquid. It smelled like patience. something that surely took hours of sleepless nights to make.

“It's for pain relief. So you can have a painless birthday.” His eyes met yours again. How could you even possibly know that he needed this now, that he needed you now. He hadn't even noticed the night had crossed into the early hours of his birthday and here you were, on his bed with a soft smile and a softer twinkle in your eyes.

Before he could even think about it, it fell out of his mouth, “I love you.” His mouth hung open and his cheeks flushed.

“I love you too, Remus,” you repeated back in a way that would have forced his knees into buckling if he wasn't already sitting. You looked back at him one more time. “Do you want me to stay so you don't spend your birthday alone,” you asked as Remus tried the potion you had worked for weeks on. He paused as he felt every ache dissipate from his body, his pain melting away from him.

He threw a gentle smile your way and whispered back one final “of course,” before he began setting up his bed for the both of you to lie in and talk, and hopefully, eventually fall asleep together with. Maybe birthdays weren't as isolating as he had once known.

[aleskyyy]

Saved — Kyle Garrick x F!Reader

Three years of marriage with your husband who you thought would change for the better and he didn't. And finally being saved by someone who has been around you all along but both of you didn't know it.

Warnings — fem!reader, light angst, unhealthy relationship, cheating (not reader), attempt of sexual assault, a bit of violence/blood, fluff, fingering, oral [fem!receiving], cum eating, 18+ MDNI, etc.

3,2k words (maybe I'll make a second part, but I don't know when).

Main Masterlist COD Masterlist

You know this is not a healthy relationship to be in. But you still hope your husband can change for the better, giving you the attention you deserve like when you were still dating. Even though you know all this is tiring, you still try to serve your husband well. Cooking food for him, cleaning the house and running errands for you and your husband.

Like right now, you are cooking dinner for you and your husband who will soon be home from work. You cook his favorite food and you hope he comes home from work in a good mood. Especially since today is the third year anniversary of your marriage. You really hope that tonight will go very well.

After your cooking is done, you look at the clock on the wall and it's already seven in the evening. Your husband should have been home half an hour ago. Without thinking about it anymore you immediately arrange the food onto the dining table. After finishing you hurry to clean yourself, you want to look very good in front of your husband.

After cleaning up, you return to sit at the dining table while waiting for your husband to come home. But until the clock strikes ten at night your husband hasn't come home. You tried calling your husband many times but there was no answer. You are very worried about him. You sigh and prepare to clear the dining table.

While clearing the table you hear the door being rudely opened making you rush over. You see your husband come home drunk and with his clothes all messed up. You rush towards him wanting to help him walk but he pushes you roughly.

"Dante, why are you home so late? I've been waiting for you and called you but you didn't answer," you tell him in a worried tone.

You again try to help your husband walk ignoring the smell of the woman's perfume and the color of the lipstick printed on your husband's shirt. You try to get rid of the bad thoughts that cross your head. This must be a one time mistake, your husband won't do it again. You're sure of this.

It's been two weeks since the incident with your husband you are currently shopping for supplies that have been emptied. You're so serious about looking at every shelf in the super market that you accidentally bump into someone in front of you with the trolley you're using. Your eyes widened and you tried to apologize to the man in front of you.

"Oh my God, I'm really sorry. Does anything hurt?" you asked in a panicked tone. The man in front of you just laughs softly while shaking his head.

"No, ma'am. I'm fine," he says casually.

But you're not sure he's really okay, you're sure you hit him a little hard earlier. You try to look at him to see if he's really okay. But your gaze is distracted as you look at his handsome face, which is very sweet in your opinion. A gentle look on his face as he turned to look at you.

"I really apologize. I should have paid more attention to my surroundings," you say feeling embarrassed.

"It's okay. I'm Kyle by the way," he introduced himself with a smile on his face.

"Kyle..." you spell his name softly. Then introduced yourself to him with a smile.

"So, did you shop alone or with someone with this much groceries?" Kyle said as he pointed at the items in your trolley.

You look at your almost full trolley, you didn't think it would be this much. Especially since you came here by taxi. You really regret it now.

"Ah no, I'm alone," you reply as you push your trolley again.

You thought Kyle would leave after hearing your answer but you were wrong he walked after you. You walk side by side while talking casually, Kyle even helps you pick up the items on the high shelves. When you have finished shopping you smile happily because you were faster than usual, thanks to Kyle. You looked at him with a smile full of gratitude.

"Thank you Kyle, you shouldn't have helped me. But I'm really grateful and once again sorry for bumping into you earlier," you say to Kyle who smiles at you.

"I said I was fine, and I was happy to help you too," Kyle replies.

"But I made you stay longer, even though you didn't shop as much as I did," you say pointing at the groceries in his hand.

Kyle just laughs. He walks with you to the cashier. After you guys finished paying, Kyle took more of your shopping bags and helped you carry them out. You try to take your shopping bags from his hands but he still wants to carry your stuff.

"So where's your car?" Kyle asks.

You feel embarrassed again, you should have brought a car but your husband's car suddenly didn't start so he brought your car to work instead.

"I took a taxi here, just leave it and I'll find a taxi," you reply as you put down the groceries you're carrying.

"Let me take you home," he invites.

You can only shake your head. You've just met, you don't want to take any chances. Besides, it's not good to go home with another man when your husband isn't home. Kyle seemed to know what you were thinking, trying to calm you down.

"Believe me I'm not a criminal who would kidnap people," he said with a laugh.

You laughed stiffly at his words, Kyle who saw your expression at his unhelpful words scratched the back of his neck with an embarrassed smile.

"I'm sorry, I just want to help you that's all," he said.

You tried to consider his request. If you went with Kyle you wouldn't spend any more money than you had to. Finally, you nodded your head in acceptance of Kyle's invitation. Hopefully you made the right choice. Kyle carries your groceries back to the jeep that you believe belongs to him.

You try to help Kyle put your groceries in but he takes them all and puts them in by himself. Then he opens the passenger door and lets you in. Even your husband when you were still dating until now has never opened the car door for you. You thank Kyle and he follows you into the car. After starting the car Kyle asks where you live.

"What?" Kyle says after hearing where you live. You think he didn't hear you so you repeat yourself.

"I heard what you said, I just didn't expect you to live there," he says with a chuckle.

You looked at Kyle with a puzzled expression. "Why?"

"Because I also live there, if you know the house at the end of the street is my house," he said.

"That's your house?"

"Yes."

"But as far as I know it's often empty," you confirmed.

Kyle just nodded in confirmation of your words. "Because I rarely go home, if I come home from duty I always sleep in the barracks."

"You're a soldier?" You asked in a surprised. Kyle just nods answer your question while smiling at you briefly then refocuses on the road.

When you got to the road, you showed Kyle which one was your house. Until now you still don't believe that you and Kyle are neighbors because you've never seen him. Or maybe it's because you have a hard time socializing, is what you think.

When you get to the front of your house you panic seeing your car in the garage. It's a sign that your husband is home, but it's still noon and not even lunchtime. You and Kyle get out of the car to get your groceries. Before you can thank Kyle you hear your husband's voice yelling your name. You're so grateful that it's quiet in your neighborhood so you don't become the talk of the neighbors.

"I'm sorry, it looks like my husband came home early," you say while holding your groceries.

"Husband?" You hear the hesitant tone of Kyle's question.

"Oh God, I forgot to tell you that I'm married. I'm really so–"

Once again your husband's voice rang out loudly calling your name. You see your husband standing at the door looking at you and Kyle. Your heart was beating fast, you were afraid that your husband would get angry and do something bad.

"I apologize in advance and thank you for your help, Kyle," you say as you run a little with your groceries.

Kyle who saw you struggling to carry the groceries wants to help but he doesn't want to interfere in someone's household. But Kyle felt angry when he saw you struggling to carry the groceries but your husband didn't help. Still standing by his car, he saw your husband violently close the door to the house. Kyle sighed harshly, he was just attracted to someone but it turned out that the person he liked was married.

It's been three days since he met you, but Kyle is still thinking about you. He feels something odd that makes him not stop thinking about you. He knows he's wrong, you're married and he shouldn't be thinking about someone else's wife. But Kyle felt something was wrong. Since that day, every morning he did his morning running past your house but didn't see you come out of the house. He didn't even see your husband go to work.

It was the fifth day he saw you come out and it looked like your husband wasn't home. You were watering the plants in the yard. Kyle walked up to you and called out to you, making you startle and accidentally splash Kyle with water.

"Kyle!" you yell in surprise at him.

You frantically disconnect the water hose and walk towards Kyle. You tried to dry his face with your hands, Kyle could only laugh and said it was fine. Hearing the sound of his laughter makes you laugh too. Your hands return to your sides. You look at the surrounding area which is quiet because people have gone to work.

"Is your husband home?"

Hearing Kyle's question about your husband makes the smile on your face disappear. Ever since your husband saw you coming home with Kyle he had become more grumpy, especially with your husband having been fired from the company making him dare to hit you when he was angry with you.

"He went out," you reply. The truth is that you don't even know where your husband is at the moment.

Seeing the change on your face made Kyle try to change the subject. But before he could ask about anything else Kyle's eyes caught the bruise under your eye. Even though he knew you were trying to cover it up with makeup, he was sure it was a bruise. Kyle walks slowly towards you and holds your face gently which makes you surprised by his actions.

"What's wrong with your face?" he asked. His voice sounds different in your ears. You instinctively held the bruise under your eye. The bruise caused by your husband last night. You try to smile and answer that you fell in the bathroom last night and hit your face. But Kyle can see through your lie. He moves away from you a little, afraid that if anyone sees your closeness, it will become a problem for you.

"You know I'm here if you need anything, right? I can help you anytime, if I'm not home you can call me."

Kyle looked for something in his pants pocket and found a pen and a small book that he always carried around. He wrote down the number and tore off the paper to give it to you. You can only be silent while accepting it. You are so grateful to have someone like Kyle in your life even though you have only known him for a few days.

"Thank you Kyle, you have no idea how helpful you are right now," you say with a grateful smile.

Tonight you're cooking for your husband who hasn't come home yet, the rain is pouring down with thunder and lightning. As you finish cooking you hear your husband's voice with someone else's voice that you never heard. You walk up to your husband and see a man who looks older than him.

"Dante, who is that?" you ask. But your husband is only silent while looking at the man who is with him. He whispers something to the man then walks out and drives back in his car.

"You know I paid a lot of money for this with your husband. I hope you taste as good as he says," the stranger says.

You try to process the situation in front of you. You try to run towards the door but are quickly stopped by the man. The man pulls you towards the sofa in the living room, he tries to rip off the clothes you are wearing. With all your might you try to escape his grasp. You grabbed the man's face and pressed your thumb on his right eye until he screamed and blood came out of it. He immediately releases you and holds his eye.

"Bitch!" he yelled at you.

Before he could touch you again, you picked up the vase on the table and smashed it on the man's head. After that you ran outside barefoot. The area near your house looks empty because of the heavy rain. You run towards Kyle's house at the end of the street. You hoped he was still home and not on duty.

When you get to Kyle's house, you knock on his door with all your might. Tears are already mixing with the rainwater on your face. Your body shakes with fear and cold. You feel like you're going to faint if Kyle doesn't open the door. He looks at you with a worried face and brings you in. Kyle hugs you from the side to take you inside his house. He finds clothes and towels for you to wear. He takes you to the bathroom and asks you to change without demanding any explanation from you. When you come out of the bathroom Kyle takes you to the kitchen and makes you some hot tea.

"If you're calmer and want to talk I'll listen," Kyle says as he places the hot tea in front of you.

"He wanted to sell me, my husband wanted to sell me to someone and that person was still in my house when I ran away. I wounded his eyes and hit his head with a vase. And I don't know if he's still there or not," you explain in a trembling voice. Your tears fall again remembering what just happened to you.

You see Kyle taking his cell phone out of his pocket and calling someone, you can only hear a little of what he's saying. All you know is that he's on the phone with someone he calls captain and there are strange words like 'ghost' and 'soap'. You try to calm yourself down and drink the tea Kyle made. Kyle sits back down next to you and holds your hand gently.

"Everything will be fine, maybe tomorrow I need you to answer some questions. So you can sleep here, I'll prepare a guest room for you," he said while stroking your hand.

And sure enough, the next day Kyle somehow got all the information about your husband. Even your husband was linked to the drug dealer. Kyle also got information about the man last night that you confirmed with his picture in the file. And a few hours later you hear the news that your husband and the man last night were arrested by the police but unfortunately the car carrying them crashed leaving your husband and the man dead on the spot. You know this all seems strange, but you ignore it all. In fact, you feel relieved when you hear the news. You didn't even come to your husband's funeral and let his family take care of it.

You're washing dishes when you feel hands around your waist. You feel little kisses being placed on your neck. You can only laugh amusedly when your neck is bitten lightly.

"Kyle! I'm washing dishes here. Don't distract me," you said with a laugh. Kyle just laughed while kissing your cheek lightly.

It's been two years since that night, and one year since you and Kyle got together. He's been patiently waiting for you to open your heart to someone else ever since that night. He even moved out of the neighborhood and took you with him so that you wouldn't remember what happened that night. He took you to a house near the house of a man named John Price. And you know John Price is his captain and also the person who helped you that night.

"I want to take you out to dinner tonight. I hope you'll wear the red dress we bought earlier," Kyle said. His hand moved to graze your inner thigh which was only covered by his t-shirt.

"Tonight?"

Kyle just cleared his throat and went back to kissing your neck while giving a small bite there. His hand slowly touched your pussy from outside the underwear you were wearing. Kyle carried you straight to your room when he saw you finished washing the dishes. He immediately laid you on the bed and pinned you there.

"What are you doing, handsome?" You ask in a flirting tone that makes him laugh.

"You know what I'm going to do," Kyle said as he took off his your t-shirt. Leaving you with only your underwear.

Kyle kisses you passionately again, he plays with your breasts making you moan his name. Kyle is always gentle with you and focuses on your needs first. His kisses move down your neck and bite there, leaving a lot of hickeys. Then he brings his mouth to your breasts, taking turns sucking on them. He sucks one of your breasts and lightly nibbles on the other.

Kyle goes back down to your pussy and kisses it from outside the underwear you're wearing. His tongue plays with your pussy and makes you moan loudly and your back arches. Kyle quickly takes off your underwear and throws it in a random direction. His lips went back to kissing your pussy and suckling your clit.

Kyle puts one of his fingers inside your pussy and moves it slowly. Soon he fastens his movements after inserting another finger there and curls his finger on your tight walls which makes you cry out his name loudly. He also goes back to kissing your pussy and gives your clit a gentle bite. Your breathing has become ragged and your lower abdomen is tightening. Soon you will come and Kyle knows it so he quickens his hand movements and kisses your pussy even more.

"Kyle I'm coming, please, please, Kyle..."

"Come baby, come in my mouth."

Your hand gripped his hair as you came. Your body trembles and your toes curl. As you came Kyle kept licking your pussy which was leaking cum.

"Tonight baby, tonight I will fuck you so hard. I love you so much," Kyle said. He glanced at the bedside table drawer for a moment. Let's hope tonight goes well.

[the100thtwilightmaze]

Could I get an embry imagine, where like you guys are cuddling and things get kinda steamy? Smut if you feel comfortable

Title: Warming Up (Feb. 13, 2024)

Embry Call x fem!reader Imagine (Twilight)

Warnings: SMUT SMUT SMUTTY SMUT/teasing/soft!dom Embry(I guess)/not proof read 😂

Y'ALL I DIDNT REALIZE THAT I HAD WRITTEN IN FOUR WHOLE YEARS WTF?!??!

so let's see if I still got it 😂 went back through my asks from apparently years ago 😬😂 and picked this one.

THIS IS MY FIRST SMUT PIECE PLEASE BE KIND 😭

PLEASE LIKE/REBLOG/COMMENT

The night was ending like many of your others. Embry in the driver's seat, you in the passenger. Leaving another dinner at the Black's. A warm meal surrounded by people you considered family was something you would never grow tired of.

Finally making it back to your apartment, you were greeted with warmth and shelter from the pelting rain.

"I think this storm's gonna be a bad one, babe. Looks like we made it home just in time." you heard Embry call out, making his way to you guy's bedroom.

"Maybe Sam will take pity on you and let you off of patrols tomorrow morning. Then, I can have you all to myself." you replied, pulling off you coat and following him into the bedroom.

In true Embry fashion, his shirt was already forgotten, thrown in some corner of our already cluttered room.

Now, this was also something you'd never grow tired of.

Embry was beautiful. Copper skin, long hair that made it nearly halfway down his back, his tribal tattoo, and a few other tattoos he had collected in the past few years scattered all over his lean physique. Muscles that required no maintenance from him. The sweatpants that hung dangerously low on his hips.

Good God

"Babe, I love your confidence but you know Sam takes more of a No Mercy type of approach." he joked, climbing into bed.

"Now, come on. Let's finish this movie we started the other day. I wanna see this plot twist you've been going on about." he said, pulling the covers back in invitation.

Never one to deny your imprinter much of anything, you accepted his invitation. Stripping of your day clothes and into your..... bear necessaties with a plan in mind.

"Y/N, what are you up to?" he quipped from behind you after you finally nestled yourself between his legs, your back to his front.

"Don't flatter yourself, Call. I'm just trying to warmed up since somebody still hasn't gotten the heat in the truck fixed." you replied, grabbing the remote and flipping to Netflix.

If you say so, you heard him mutter. Wrapping his arm around your middle and pressing a quick kiss to your cheek.

Now, Embry always got a little too engrossed in whatever was playing on the TV. So engrossed that he didn't even notice when your fingers began to trace over one of his numerous tattoos.

Or when you reached behind you and ran your nails along his scalp.

But you know what he did notice? When you slightly readjusted to where your ass was flush against the impressive bulge concealed under his sweats.

A guttural moan and his arm tightening around your middle was his response.

"Still not warm enough, Ms. Y/L/N?" he teased, skimming his lips up your shoulder and right below your ear, grabbing the remote to pause the movie.

"Not quite yet, Call. But I think you can help remedy that." you answered back, turning around to give him your full attention, straddling his growing erection.

A small smile he offered before one of his hands crept up to pull your lips to his. His other hand roaming to your rear.

Everyone thought of Embry as timid and shy. Quiet and reserved. But they never got to see this side of Embry (and they never would if you had anything to do with it). Primal and animalistic. Teeth scraping along your neck. One hand fisting your hair, the other making its way into your panties.

A small whimper escaped you, quickly swallowed up by Embry.

"I've barely even touched you yet baby and you're already soaked." Embry pulled back just enough to tease.

"Embry, please..." you moaned, feeling his thick fingers work through your folds.

"How long have you been waiting for me, baby? Huh?" he questioned, fingers still just barely missing where you need him most.

"Were you sitting at the dinner table, thinking of all the ways I could fuck you? Use your words, baby. Talk to me." he teased, ignoring your plea, using the hand that wasn't teasing your pussy to unclip your bra.

You couldn't even formulate words at this point. If it wasn't Embry, your imprinter and the love of your life, you would be embarrassed with how quickly you were reduced to a whimpering mess.

"Yes. Yes. God, yes." you moaned, legs shaking as one of his fingers teased your clit.

"That's my good girl. Always so eager for me." he replied, flipping you over on your back. Taking off your underwear and throwing to yet another corner of your room.

"God. Would you look at her? Making such a mess. Just waiting to be stuffed full." he teased, his eyes zeroed in to the apex of your legs, teasing your entrance yet again.

"And who am I to deny her?" he questioned while sinking two fingers in your wet walls.

"Fuck, Em!" you moaned at the intrusion.

"You're just sucking me right in, baby. Such a greedy little thing." he mocked, his thumb coming to teasing your bungle of nerves while his other fingers worked magic inside you.

Bringing his lips down, his teeth scraped across one of your harden nipples, making you fist your hand in his long locks.

You felt his hardened length teasing at your thigh, still (to your dismay) fully clothed.

Between the bites he was leaving across your chest, the thumb toying at your clit and the two fingers wreaking havoc inside you, you knew you wouldn't last long. That knot in your stomach was already growing, your legs already trembling.

"Embry, baby..." you managed to whimper. But his face was buried in the crook of your neck now, his lips whispering the filthiest things between kisses.

"Embry. Baby. Fuck. I need you. Fuck, baby. I need you inside. I need to feel you inside, baby. Please." you managed, just slightly louder than before. But he had heard you. Evidenced by the sudden stop in kisses and the halt in movement of his fingers.

"Fuck, Y/N. If that's what you want, I'll give it to you." he groaned, bringing his lips to yours and making quick work of his sweats.

Embry was girthy and just long enough to hit that one spot that had you seeing stars. His dick stood at attention, red and weaping. You moaned at the sight, remembering that delicious stretch.

He teased the head through your folds, smearing your wetness and his precum through your folds, making you both moan at the sensation.

"You ready, baby?" he asked, finally tearing his eyes away from your dripping cunt.

All you could do was nod your head in confirmation.

Bringing his lips to yours, Embry sank into you.

Swallowing each other's moans with a kiss, he set a steady rhythm. The only sounds to be heard in the small apartment were your moans and the sound of skin slapping.

"Fuck, you take me so well, baby. Look at you, creaming by dick. Such a good fucking girl." he muttered, eyes once again zeroed on where you were joined.

You moaned at his praise, involuntarily clenching around him causing his thrusts to stutter.

"You gonna cum, baby? Already?" he smirked, bringing that fucking thumb up to your clit once more.

"Then come, baby. Make a mess on this dick for me." he commanded, claiming your mouth once more.

You saw stars.

Glalxies.

And whatever else was out there.

A broken moan leaving you as Embry's orgasm followed shortly after.

Pulling his softening member from you, Embry collapsed next to you. Both of you offering small giggles in between trying to catch your breath.

Covering you up, he pulled you to him. Finally offering the warmth that you were so desperately asking for.

[tracingpatternswrites]

Leather and Cinnamon | Wolfstar Bingo

It's that time of the year again! The @wolfstarbingo2024 is here.

I'm supposed to be working hard on my Big Bang fic so naturally I instead spent the whole day writing 13k words of... well, this.

I've had this idea for a long time and I think I started it over a year ago, but now I finally found the inspiration to finish it (while also crossing off one of my prompts). So here it is.

Title: Leather and Cinnamon Pairing: Wolfstar Rating: E WC: 13.2k Prompt: One night stand Summary: Remus hasn't got laid in a while, but that's okay. That's fine. He's been busy raising a son, thank you very much.

Now, however, Teddy is off to university and when Remus goes to Brighton to drop him off, they stumble over a coffee shop in the south lanes. It's a cosy little place with a barista who has silver eyes and pale skin and an arse to die for.

Remus hasn't got laid in a while, but that's okay. That's fine.

Read on AO3.

Snippet below the cut:

“I’ll order,” Teddy said as they entered the coffee shop, nodding towards a table by the window. “You can take a seat.”

“Oh really?” Remus asked, a little amused. “You’re paying too, then?”

“Obviously not,” Teddy remarked casually. “I’m a poor student, remember?”

“Sometimes I think you just spend time with me for my wallet.” Remus sighed wistfully but Teddy merely grinned at him, snapping his fingers.

“Money, please.”

“Maybe I want to order,” Remus said, but Teddy was already snatching the note from his fingers.

“Please,” Teddy scoffed. “Like I’d trust you with my order.”

Remus looked fondly as his son sauntered off towards the bar, unable not to smile to himself. He honestly couldn’t get his head around the fact that he had an 18-year-old son who was now heading off to university all on his own.

It had felt bittersweet, packing up Teddy’s boyhood room. He knew the day would come eventually, and even though he was excited for his son, he couldn’t help but feel a bit sad as well. They had driven down to Brighton together, their old little car stuffed full of (almost) everything that Teddy would need for the coming few months.

They had spent the day getting his room in order before Remus decided it was time for him to head back home. Teddy had agreed to a coffee before he left though, and Remus was set on making the most of the time he had left with his son while he still had the chance.

The café they had picked was in the south Lanes and had a bright red door with rainbow flags decorating the windows. It was the name that had drawn Remus in though, Baskerville’s Hound written in bold letters over the painting of a big, black dog.

The place itself was cosy enough, with paintings decorating the walls together with black and white photographs of Brighton and random people. The walls were painted in a dark blue colour and the furniture was all mismatched and clearly second hand, but still in good shape.

Teddy returned without drinks, pulling out the chair opposite Remus and slumping down on it, shrugging as Remus raised a questioning eyebrow at him.

“They’ll bring it out,” he said, slouching back on his chair.

“Any chance you got a change on that twenty?”

“Sorry.” Teddy grinned at him, pushing a hand through his longish hair, currently a bright orange. Remus had long since accepted that Teddy opted to change his hair colour as often as other people changed clothes, and he enjoyed seeing him explore. “Consider it a contribution towards your only child’s education.”

“Ah, yes, never mind the 9K tuition fee,” Remus deadpanned. “It’s the change on the coffee that’s going to make the real difference.”

“I’ll need pocket money.”

The corner of Remus’ mouth twitched. “You need money for beer, you mean.”

Teddy threw his arms out. “It’s uni life, Da.”

Remus snorted just as the barista approached the table, clearing his throat.

“A latte with a dash of cinnamon and…whatever this monstrosity is,” the barista said, and Remus tore his gaze away from his son to the man standing next to their table.

Remus found himself doing a double-take at the sight of him. He didn’t know why he’d expected a student, but this man looked to be roughly his age. He was tall, muscular, with tattooed arms and wearing a simple white tee-shirt underneath a light apron with a large black dog printed on the front of it.

There was the hint of a stubble over his very chiselled jaw, high cheekbones and long, black hair pulled back in a ponytail. It was his eyes, however, that caught Remus’ attention. They were a light sort of grey that reminded Remus of silver, seemingly drawing in the light around them. They were dancing with something that looked like amusement as Teddy sat up excitedly.

“That’s mine,” Teddy said eagerly, reaching for the tall glass topped with a hefty dollop of whipped cream. “Cheers, mate.”

“I take it you’re the sensible one then,” the man said, the corner of his mouth twitching as he turned his gaze on Remus, placing the mug in front of him with a little wink. “Enjoy.”

Remus couldn’t help staring as the man walked away, gaze taking in the dark jeans and heavy boots.

“Earth to Da!”

Teddy’s voice pulled him out of his thoughts and he flinched, accidentally burning his hand as his coffee sloshed over the rim of the mug.

“Fuck,” he hissed, grabbing a napkin to wipe up his spill and when he looked back up, Teddy was watching him with a mischievous sort of twinkle in his eyes.

“You alright?”

“Yeah,” Remus replied quickly, clearing his throat as his voice came out weirdly rough. “Fine.”

“I said, are you coming down with Ma next week?”

“Oh,” Remus said, taking a sip from his coffee to distract himself momentarily. “Dunno, mate. D’you want me to?”

“You don’t have to,” Teddy shrugged. “It’s just cause she couldn’t be here this weekend.”

“Right,” Remus nodded. “I’ll be there if you want me to.”

Teddy waved it off, pulling his phone out of his pocket as it made a chirping noise.

“Don’t worry about it,” he said, eyes on the display as he quickly tapped out a message. “Aoife says there’s a group heading to the pub tonight.”

“That sounds like fun,” replied Remus as his gaze darted over to the bar, just briefly, catching on the man who was wiping down glasses and humming to himself, the muscles in his arms flexing. “You should go with them, make some friends.”

He only tore his gaze away from the man as he heard Teddy’s snort, and his son was watching him with an unimpressed sort of expression.

“What?”

“Make some friends?” he echoed, pulling a face. “It’s not pre-school, Da. It’s uni.”

“What?” asked Remus, a little affronted. “You don’t make friends at university?”

“No,” Teddy said assuredly. “You just…get to know people. Hang out.”

“Right,” Remus said, giving a solemn nod. “My bad. You should go with them and hang out then.”

Teddy rolled his eyes and huffed out a breath before he turned his attention back to his phone, and Remus pressed his lips together so that he wouldn’t smile. His eyes darted briefly back towards the bar, where the man was now stacking mugs.

It would be in Brighton where a random barista looked like he’d stepped right out of one of Remus’ wet dreams. He looked exactly like the type Remus would have been madly in love with when he was younger, and, it turned out, his taste hadn’t changed that much since then.

Remus hadn’t dated much in the past few years as Teddy was growing up. It wasn’t that it had been impossible, Dora had managed to move on just fine after their amicable split, and her dating life had never affected Teddy badly, he just hadn’t prioritised it. Ever since Teddy had moved in with him full-time when he was fifteen, Remus put his own dating life on a shelf.

Dora had told him he was being ridiculous, that Teddy was more than capable of handling his dad dating, and Teddy had even told him so himself. He’d even encouraged Remus to get out there, claiming that it would do him good to get laid. It wasn’t a lie, Remus knew that, but he had simply prioritised raising his son over hookups.

He knew it would be different now though, with Teddy off to university and Remus alone in their house. They had been joking about it, and Remus was happy that Teddy was starting his own life as a young adult, but he couldn’t deny that it would be strange.

He and Dora had been so young when they became parents. She had still been at university, and he had only just completed his Bachelor's Degree. He’d been a parent for all of his 20s and almost all of his 30s, it felt wild thinking that he was approaching his 40s with more independence than he’d had in a long while.

“Right, I gotta go,” Teddy said suddenly, his voice yanking Remus out of his thoughts. “Sorry, Da.”

Remus shook his head, smiling a little as he stood. “Don’t worry about it. Time for me to head back home anyway.”

Teddy nodded, watching him for a moment, his blue eyes searching over Remus’ face and he looked so serious suddenly.

“Are you sure that you’ll be okay?”

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?”

Remus couldn’t help but smile a little at the troubled look on his son’s face, the half-grimace as he gave a brief shrug.

“I’ll be fine, Da.”

“So will I,” Remus replied, smiling a little as he pulled his son close for a hug. “Don’t worry about me.”

“Can’t help it,” Teddy muttered against the crook of his neck before Remus released him. “I worry about you all alone in that house.”

“I think I’ll manage,” Remus said as he clasped a hand on his son’s shoulder. “I used to have a life before you, y’know.”

“Barely,” Teddy replied with a snort, the corner of the boy’s mouth quirking upwards as Remus swatted lightly at him.

“Oi, don’t get cheeky.”

Teddy laughed, seemingly unfazed as he leaned a little closer, stage-whispering, “You could always stay and chat up the barista, eh? I can see you ogling him.”

Remus had a horrible feeling as he was blushing as Teddy threw a meaningful look towards the man behind the counter and waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

Continue on AO3.

[palmtreesx3]

Seeing Stars

I don't often share the words that vomit from my own head, but from what started as Hot Tub Steve appreciation inspired by the artist formerly known as @willowherbal (*insert Hunger Games 3 finger salute in memorial*) and the masterpiece that was Be With You Everywhere - Hot Dog Steve emerged and I couldn't remove the bumbling idiot from the depths of my brain. So thanks for that @sweetsweetjellybean @crappymixtape @superblysubpar

Steve Harrington x FEM!reader

Summary: The crew finally decides it's time to start celebrating the 4th of July again, but Steve Harrington finds he can't stop himself from staring.

References to past trauma, a dash of NSFW, staring, glaring and illusions to a hot tub hook up

Part 2: A Girl Like You

_________

It was hot. Not oppressive. Not stifling. But the kind of hot that has you seeing stars at one in the afternoon. Sunbeams bouncing off pool water, sunglass lenses and sweat glistening skin - not sure if you're more desperate for the cold beer or sticking your hand in the ice cold cooler to grab it in the first place.

Honestly, it's everything you could want for a celebratory, classic, absolutely patriotic 4th of July, but things are different at this particular picnic. It's been a few years, but the innocent holiday full of sparklers, sweet watermelon juice running down your chin and late night fireworks just hasn't been the same since everything that happened that year at Starcourt. It was when everything you thought you knew about the place you grew up changed in an instant and this motley crew welcomed you into their fold. Since then, most have pretended it was any other day, hiding away trying to busy themselves with whatever they can to avoid the Americana laced trauma.

You don't know whose idea it was to finally put a pin in the escapism, and while most tentatively agreed that it was about time you knock down the walls you all built to hide away the day, everyone unanimously also agreed they didn't want to spend it with anyone else that wouldn't understand. So that's how you found yourself here, hiding away for the holiday in the backyard of the Harrington house, poolside with people you grew up way too fast alongside, and others who are now far too grown to be the kids you once cared for. It's still surreal to you to think you can find yourself comfortably sitting here at this house with any of these people - none of whom (save the kids) were you big fans of before that star spangled day from hell all those years ago.

You were splayed out now, towel rolled up under your neck, daydreaming. Trying hard not to have your thoughts float back to all that you've collectively been through and instead on all the things you wish would go right from here on out. Behind a soundtrack of laughing, splashing and American Woman playing loud on the radio, you were grateful for the comfort of these people who turned into lovely friends and imagining the potential of a fresh start ahead after just finishing up your college degree that past spring. Things feeling far enough in the past to even consider what a future could look like.

That sparkling, blinking sunshine brought you back to reality - sunglasses snatched from your face in an instant by a meddling Dustin dashing by. The kids all now playing hot potato with your Ray Bans, you sigh before calling out "After all these fuckin years, you still think you can get under my skin? You know you're not 13 anymore, right?!" They laugh and you smile, because your favorite pastime is giving them as much shit as they can handle.

You squint hard against the blistering sun and in that moment become blissfully aware of the sweat dripping down your body. You casually reach in your bag, grab a second set of sunglasses and pop them on your nose while you swing your legs over the side of the lounge chair, considering your next move.

In that moment, your eyes catch on the steam now rising from the grill on the other side of the yard, Steve standing behind it ready to throw on a round of hot dogs to feed the ravenous troops. He's in navy blue swim trunks slung low and cut high, sunglasses perched on his head and a scowl of concentration on his brow. You selfishly pause for a moment to take him in, standing there so much more a man these days than before, but you quickly shake it off like you always have and make your way back over to the coolers, reaching in for a new can of beer and a handful of ice.

Behind the grill, Steve is doing everything he can to hold it together. He's kept himself busy today, lucky enough to be able to hide behind playing host in order to avoid suspicion. His issue isn't even the holiday - he doesn't need the 4th of July to remind him of his torture. He has chronic headaches and a ringing in his left ear to take care of that. His issue is you. You and the new view he has of you now that he's standing there behind the steaming hot dogs.

He takes a moment to gather himself, running both hands through his hair. You've never been one to fall for his charms. Not the King Steve brand nor the genuine yet still cavalier one that came after he actually got his shit together. He never did shy away from poking and prodding and exploring what he could get away with, but you…you always threw it right back at him. Playing what you assumed was a game of banter meant to keep each other on your toes - what he assumed was your attempt to remind him that you never really chose to be his friend. Despite everything you have gone through together, your friendship still felt a mile away from him and any semblance of a chance with you arguably further. He knows how you feel - felt? - about King Steve and he's pretty sure you being in his life is meant to be yet another reminder of what a shit person he used to be. So instead he settles for teasing and friendly yet biting remarks all soothed by his own fleeting glances.

And God damnit if he isn't cashing in on those fleeting glances today. He's pretty sure he's had to duck away inside the house at least twice to hide his half hard cock as he caught a glimpse of you sunbathing, sweat glistening on your tits in your festive red bikini or bending over, ass on full display, leaning deep into the cooler to pass out another round of beers to the group, including the kids who are now old enough for no one to give a shit if they have one, too. It's a challenge he wasn't aware he needed to be ready for. A battle of wills that makes tossing a molotov cocktail at an otherworldly monster seem like child's play.

Yet here he stands, making himself as busy as he fuckin can at the grill while you pass back over with a group to sit down again on the lounge chairs. Someone turns the radio up while you and Robin stand up and start belting out Wilson Phillips' "Hold On" to whoops and cheers from everyone around you. It's in that moment he slides his sunglasses down off his head knowing full well he will not be able to pretend he isn't watching you intently without the safety of his dark shades covering his eyes. He's taking deep breaths counting the hot dogs back and forth and back and forth again to ground himself when you run up next to him, out of breath from the sprint over, the singing, the dancing or all three combined and shove a can in his face.

"Can't forget the grill master, huh? Do me a favor and don't burn the dogs."

" Uh, yeah. Yeah, thanks." He stumbled out. Normally he keeps his composure and plays his role giving you some bite in his responses, but you've already derailed him and he's pretty sure the sun is frying his brain while he's at it. So now you're here, standing there completely thrown off.

"You okay there, Harrington? "

He grumbles out a hum and you leave him be, figuring he may need a few more beers or a whole new personality, because every time you consider dropping the snarky act with him he totally blows you off and can't be bothered to speak to you in full sentences. He's come such a long way and you want to let the past be the past entirely, but you find that you're irritated with yourself for even looking his way when he acts like that, so you come to give it to him harder next time.

Everyone has settled in again with their fresh drinks and full bellies, some playing a card game on the pool deck, a group taking a break from the water spread out in the grass and others bobbing in the pool. You take the opportunity now that the pool is calm and all games of chicken are nowhere to be found and slide in too, deciding to be unbothered by whatever the fuck is going on with Steve. You grab a hold of a float and kick your feet up so you're floating on your belly, arms folded on your float and head turned to the side resting in the cool water. After a best of silence you spin yourself around, ready to strike up a conversation with Nancy about her own post-college plans when you catch it. The sunglasses are just low enough on the bridge of his nose to catch a glimpse of the direction of his eyes and you are one thousand percent sure that before you turned your float around abruptly, Steve Harrington was staring hard at your ass. Fuckin typical.

Your conversations continue to flow, you join in on games of Rummy and races in the pool. You find yourself shoulder to shoulder with Max on your towels in the grass giving the girl the kind of advice you know she needs. And all the while you feel his eyes. You thought the first one was a fluke - of course Steve Harrington would oggle any ass put in his view - but now you're not so sure. Because normally with you, he'd follow up his blatant stare with some kind of bite or tease, telling you to put your ass away before someone uses it as a flotation device. Instead every time you think you might be catching him staring you down behind his sunglasses he makes himself busy and jams another hotdog in his mouth. At this point you think he's eaten at least 6.

It's late now, and the group starts moving inside, picking a movie and settling in cozy spaces to wind down from the day. Everyone falls into their normal movie night rhythms, bickering over movies, Dustin talking through the opening credits and flicking the lights off for the ambiance. You find yourself in your favorite movie night chair, giant Hawkins High Tshirt slung over your now dry bikini, feet with red painted toes hanging over the armrest, when you're certain you feel it again - eyes on you in the dark of the room.

Robins first to fall asleep, unabashed snores falling from her for far too long before Steve nudges her and tells her to go the fuck upstairs and get to bed already. He leaves to set her up in one of the guest rooms and you can hear now that instead of returning to the movie hes clanging around the kitchen cleaning up from the day. The others also start, sun-beat and slightly buzzed, nodding off into a comfortable slumber around you, and you don't hear Steve padding around the kitchen any longer, so you also assume he has packed it in and went to bed.

When you quietly snuck back outside, walking while shedding your oversized t-shirt yet again in favor of a quiet moment in the Harrington's new hot tub under the stars, the last thing you were expecting to see when the shirt lifted over your head was Steve, already perched there in the bubbles.

" I thought for sure you had already gone to bed. " You say into the silence. He has yet to really acknowledge you so now you're even more confused than before.

At this point, you're fully committed, shirt already off so you climb in, with or without his permission to join. Dipping your toes in and lowering yourself into the jets, you catch him looking before he looks away and you've about had it. You know you might come off strong here, maybe a bit bitchy…and the way he's sitting there with shoulders freckled by the sun and his chest hair all on display under the jets has you second guessing your frustrated emotions, but you don't let what's in front of you distract you. You stick to your guns and open your mouth.

"What the fuck is your problem today, Harrington. I know we're not the closest, but I thought we were friends and I'm not sure what I did to offend you?"

" Offend me? I - uh, shit. What do you mean? "

" Well you won't stop staring me down today, so either I did something to offend you or you can't help yourself enjoying this fucking impeccable view. " And as you say it, you genuinely feel that it's just a normal bite back. A tease that is on par for your friendship. It's when you see the look on his face after you say it that changes everything. He looks like a puppy dog. One that's waiting to be kicked after sifting through the garbage. Like a little kid with their hand in the cookie jar. Like he's just been caught red white and blue handed at his own fucking 4th of July picnic because he wasn't able to tear his eyes away from your body. Oh my God.

"I-it's not, I mean...I...guess it is, fuck. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have. Y-you just… . "

You watch him stumble over his words - a literal feat for someone who used to wear a crown like King Steve - and see him slowly slink down until only his eyes and nose remain above the bubbling water, shutting himself up without fail. Of course he acts like this with you. How is he supposed to ever convince you he's not an ounce of that old disgusting version of Steve if he can't act civilized around you even when you're in a bathing suit. His eyes closed slowly before he squeezes them tight. He can't will himself to look at you because he's so fucking embarrassed and he doesn't want to talk about it, but you - your not dropping it. You can't.

"Steve, you fucking look at me right now."

He slowly opens his eyes, keeping half his face still submerged in the water to ensure he doesn't say anything else so utterly stupid or make you any more mad at him than you clearly are. He looks at you so intently, directly in your eyes almost without blinking and you don't think anyone has ever seen that far into you before in your life.

"Were you spending the day checking me out?" you say, softer than he expected.

He slides up, ready to explain and admit his transgressions "yeah I mean, listen, I really didn't think anyone noticed, especially you... "

" Oh my God, you really were shoving hot dogs in your face to try and throw me off, weren't you? "

" Holy shit, yeah I ate like 10. Fuck, it was that obvious? That's so embarrassing. I really need to get a grip. You just looked so good today and I was probably just distracted and I'm sorry - " eyes closed again in utter shame, completely word vomiting his explanation to you across the water.

But before he could apologize again or continue his ramble, you moved quickly across the hot tub, slotting yourself low, down at his level and between his wide spread legs. He opens his eyes when he feels you floating in his space, noses almost touching, chins just under the bubbling water, and you are eye to eye now. He hesitates, thrown off by your proximity, before smashing his lips into yours. It's rough and sloppy and the water is sloshing everywhere as he brings you in closer by the hips so your legs settle in on each side of his.

And he can't help it, he breaks away and starts in again on it "I'm sorry, I - oh my God" he gasps out as you cut him off by grinding your bikini clad core down hard on his dick.

"I swear to God Harrington, if you apologize one more time I'm climbing off right this second" he nods, enthusiastically, fervently as you reach down into the water, between both of your legs and give him a nice firm squeeze. His eyes roll back in his head and he gasps.

"I swear I'm not apologizing, but Jesus Christ, I don't deserve this. You - I don't deserve you but not even this little bit - Fuck!" You grab his shoulder tight, holding on to give your hips another firm roll back and forth and decide to get a little soft and card your free hand through his hair as he babbles.

"I know what you see when you look at me - ah, sh-shit" you roll again but he reaches up and grabs both sides of your face to get you to stop and look at him "I know who I was, but I know you like to make me remember it too, so I never thought… I know I'm better. Fuck, I know it, but I don't know why anyone who knows how I was back then even gives me the time of day. "

You reach up and grab the sides of his face, too. Challenging his unwavering eye contact with your own, you lean in and give him the softest kiss he could have ever imagined, raking your hands back through his hair and tilting his head back a bit to look up at you. From this angle he sees the stars behind you and questions what kind of penance he did these past few years to deserve this moment.

✨

[doctorprofessorsong]

Destiel Fic Recs

Sorry it's been a moment. I was finishing up my Moulin Rouge vibes monsterfucking Taylor Swift inspired extravaganza fic featuring blood freak Sammy, a touch of horror and a huge cast of characters for @dcbtv . (Read it here!)

But fear not! I have a fresh list of fics recs just for you. <3

The Trouble with Blue Eyes by FriendofCarlotta @friendofcarlotta (Explicit, 14k)

A film noir pulp fiction detective story so atmospheric you will feel like you are seconds from a mysterious dame busting into your office.

Dean and Cas are detectives in the same town. When they happen to meet on competing cases, things heat up. They become friends with benefits, but over the years they both catch feelings and neither one of them knows how to handle it. Will they be able to solve the Case of We Suck at Communication? More importantly, how do I marry this version of Charlie?

Frisky Business by imogenbynight @imogenbynight (Explicit, 13k)

A fun little Cas fic slash smutty one shot, this one is just immensely readable. When Dean and Cas find themselves hunting an apparently horny wraith, things get a bit complicated. Come for the fun wraith lore, stay for the smut!! It's a fun read with flustered Dean and soft dom Cas and a really fun case. What else could you want?

Of Lords and Letters by MalMuses @malmuses (Explicit, 14k)

Epistolary romance and Regency era Destiel? Catnip for me personally.

When Dean receives notice of his father’s death and his inheritance of the family's estate, he finds himself in a dilemma. He doesn’t want to abandon his regiment in the war, but someone needs to look after Winchester Hall. Luckily, a friend of Sam's, Castiel, is looking for employment and would be more than happy to serve as steward. 

But as their correspondence becomes increasingly intimate, Dean finds himself fighting not only Napoleon, but also his feelings. What will he find when he returns home?

creation myth by howldean @howldean (Teen, 5k)

This is a shorter fic for me to rec, but it manages to pack so much into it. The fic is an absolutely stunning examination of Cas and his relationship with his vessel when he's forced to leave it behind. It has all these beautiful gender feels. I am always a sucker for trueform Cas as well. 

But most of all, it's just deeply poetic. There are so many staggeringly beautiful lines as Cas grapples with who he is and where he fits. It's just absolutely gorgeous.

Devotion by FriendofCarlotta @friendofcarlotta (Explicit, 29k)

A Terminator AU. 

That's enough to make the list already, but also a full on delight of a fic. The angels, desperate to stop Dean Winchester, send one of their own back in time to kill him before he can become a threat.

But Dean sends his own rebellious angel back. Even though his grace is faltering, Cas is determined to keep Dean safe, but can he keep his heart safe?

doors unlocked and open by sidewinder @hawkland (Teen, 12k)

This one’s absolutely packed with amazing concepts. A post-Winchesters Destiel fix-it, Jack finds himself at a loss when he realizes that despite his best efforts, Dean can't seem to find peace in Heaven. He says he's looking for his family, but it's becoming increasingly clear he's specifically looking for one family member: Cas.

But Cas hasn't seen Dean since his big confession and he's not sure what reuniting will bring. Can Cas find the key to Dean’s peace?

Paper Moon by robotsnchicks @robotsnchicks (Explicit, 43k)

Life doesn't get any better than this. Dean's married to the love of his life and they've just put an offer down on their dream home. Everything is perfect. 

A little too perfect as it turns out when Dean wakes up to discover the last 4 years of his life were actually a simulation over the course of a week. He's devastated, most of all because he lost Cas. He can’t believe his husband isn't real. Refuses to believe it. He has to be out there somewhere and Dean is going to find him.

This concept could be extremely angsty, and make no mistake it does have some, but its surprisingly soft. A chance to find each other again, to start back at the beginning for Dean, to fall in love. 

Check out my other rec lists at @riversrecs

[sylvia-forest]

[CN] Shaw's Target Locked Date

⚡Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers for a Date which hasn't been released in EN yet!⚡

[Released Date: 1 May 2024]

[Section 1]

MC: Slow down! I'm so full.

Shaw: Tsk, who was the one claiming they were 'starving to death' and bragging they could eat a whole cow and a whole pig before we left?

Shaw's exam week finally ended. After eating and drinking our fill on the commercial street, we walked home together.

Although he said this, his steps still slowed down.

MC: I just didn't perform well today and ate a bit too quickly, otherwise I would have... Shaw: Otherwise what?

Shaw took my hand and put it in his pocket.

Shaw: The thing about rabbits is that they have big eyes and small mouths. They want to eat everything, but they can't get enough. Shaw: Fortunately, I ate more than half of it, saving them from a life of wandering in the trash can.

As he spoke, he raised his eyebrows and a proud smile appeared on his face.

MC: Since when do you like doing 'good deeds'? If you want to eat with me, just say so directly instead of beating around the bush.

The winter afternoon sun was just right. When we passed by the small park near our home, we saw that it had been beautifully decorated with a vibrant array of festive flowers, freshly planted.

MC: That place looks so beautiful. Since there's nothing to do at home, let's walk a bit more.

Shaw: Sure, I found that being overly full has some benefits. MC: Hm? Shaw: Doesn't this increase your motivation to exercise?

After that, he pinched my cheek and pulled me towards the park.

There weren't many people in the park. Although the trees and plants were not as lush as in spring and summer, the cypress and holly landscaping complemented each other, preventing the scene from appearing monotonous.

Colorful decorations were hanging from the street lamps on both sides. Shaw and I followed the fitness trail all the way to the flower bed in the center of the park.

The festive flowers were in full bloom. Just as I was about to take out my phone to take pictures, a rustling sound accompanied by a meowing noise caught my attention.

A long-haired tabby cat was pawing at the flower bed, with some snack crumbs beside it.

Seeing me approach, it raised its tail high, bared its teeth, and growled, as if in a defensive stance.

Shaw: This cat is quite fierce, a bit like some people when they're angry. MC: ……. MC: Some people really accuse others before they even do anything wrong.

Seeing that we weren't getting any closer, the tabby cat started eating the remaining food again, occasionally looking up to keep an eye on us.

MC: We just packed some tuna sashimi earlier. Shall we give it some? Shaw: Sure, let it celebrate the new year too.

As he spoke, he opened the bag he had just brought back from the restaurant, took out two pieces of fish and placed them not far from the flower bed.

Shaw: Go ahead and eat. But remember, if you take food, you shouldn't be mean. Shaw: Don't be aggressive with that silly rabbit after eating.

Shaw stepped back a few steps after placing the food, but the tabby cat still seemed wary of us and was unmoved by the tempting food.

I had to step forward, pick up a piece of fish, and place it closer to the cat, using a common trick for attracting cats—

MC: Kitty~

This time, the tabby cat seemed to smell the fish. After cautiously approaching to confirm it was food, it swiftly moved closer.

Shaw: Heh, this cat is quite…

Before Shaw finished speaking, the next second, the tabby cat grabbed the fish in its mouth and ran off into the bushes.

Shaw: So rude.

—

[Section 2]

Shaw: Are you feeling better? MC: I'm fine. I feel much better after taking the medicine.

I took the warm water that Shaw handed me and collapsed onto the sofa.

After we got back yesterday, my stomach felt uncomfortable. Although Shaw seemed fine, I still suspect it might have something to do with the big meal we had.

MC: Do you think it could be that the sashimi from yesterday wasn't fresh?

Shaw: Isn't it more likely that the ice cream we had after the meal is to blame? Shaw: Besides, you were looking at flowers and feeding cats along the way, so maybe you got a cold in the park.

MC: That possibility can't be ruled out. But if it wasn't the ice cream...

Something suddenly occurred to me.

MC: The cat in the park also ate the sashimi. Do you think it also got a stomach ache?

Shaw: You just got better and now you're worried about the cat?

MC: If it really was the sashimi, I'd feel quite sorry for it. Being a stray and having a stomachache... that's even more pitiful.

Shaw: …Alright, let's go check on it. And we can also settle the score for it running off yesterday.

Shaw and I brought some cat food and went to the park to look for the cat.

We searched around the flower bed and the nearby bushes, but there was no sign of the cat.

MC: Could it be that we just happened to meet him yesterday?

Shaw: Why are you in such a hurry?

He motioned for me to be quiet. Once there was silence, the faint sound of a cat's meow reignited my hope.

The sound seemed to be coming from near the rock garden not far away. Shaw and I exchanged a glance and with a mutual understanding, we lightened our steps and slowly approached it.

When we made our way around to the back of the rock garden, we saw a tortoiseshell cat crouched by the edge of the weeds.

Shaw: Tsk, it's not that one. MC: …But since we've come across it, let's give it some cat food anyway.

I just took out a small bowl to pour some cat food when a fierce meow came from the side.

Immediately, a familiar small figure leapt over and stood in front of the tortoiseshell cat.

The tabby cat growled at us, looking quite protective and formidable.

MC: .......This scene seems a bit familiar.

Shaw: Are these two a pair? Is there no such thing as a single cat in the cat world?

Shaw's words brought a smile to my face , and I couldn't help but think that the cats we met together were indeed a pair.

The fierce mountain king couple, plus Big Fat and Little Mimi from the neighborhood.

[T/N]: The first one is from his Great Conductor Date and as for the other one unfortunately I forgot to post this pet date (⁠●⁠_⁠_⁠●⁠)

Although this tabby cat doesn't look as strong as the mountain king, its temperament is indeed somewhat similar.

Seeing that we weren't scared off, the tabby cat's growls became even fiercer.

Shaw: It's quite energetic. I think it's in very good condition. MC: It's a relief that it's feeling fine. We can finally relax.

Seeing that the tabby cat seemed perfectly fine, I gently pulled Shaw back a few steps.

Maybe because it saw us retreating, the tabby cat hissed a couple more times, but the next second, it got a few swats from the tortoiseshell cat, immediately losing its earlier bravado.

Shaw: Oh, there's always something that can keep something else in check. Shaw: This female cat looks weak, but is actually much more ferocious than the male cat. Shaw: But it’s quite perceptive, knowing we're good people. MC: It probably saw that we brought cat food. They must be hungry.

The tortoiseshell cat meowed at me twice. When I looked closely, I noticed its belly was somewhat swollen, possibly because it's expecting kittens.

Meanwhile, the tabby cat had also quieted down and nuzzled against the tortoiseshell cat.

Shaw snorted, looking like he couldn't bear to watch, and stepped aside to give me space.

I poured some cat food into a small bowl, and together with Shaw, we placed the bowl a bit farther away.

After seeing us walking away a little, the two cats started to eat food.

While the tabby cat had just been swatted, it showed no sign of anger at all, and even let the tortoiseshell cat eat first.

Seeing the two cats in such a harmonious scene, I couldn't help but glance at Shaw.

His usually careless face also had a smile on the corner of his mouth.

MC: Although this tabby cat is a bit fierce, he still loves his girlfriend very much. He won’t hit or scold her back. MC: Isn’t that right, Shaw?

I intentionally raised my voice, infusing a subtle emphasis into the way I pronounced his name, conveying a hidden meaning.

Shaw: This is called 'the big cat has a big heart'.

Seeing him looking so pleased with himself, I angrily waved my fists at him. But the moment my fist was about to land, Shaw swiftly grabbed it in his palm.

Shaw: Is it necessary to use violence if you can't say it? MC: Now I believe its greatest strength lies in its brevity.

Seeing Shaw about to say something, I pretended to use my other hand to cover his mouth, but he agilely dodged it.

Shaw: Save your energy. I'm still skilled enough to handle your clumsy kung Fu moves.

—

[Section 3]

On our way back, it started to snow lightly.

I didn't expect the snow to get heavier after we got home from lunch. I was just scrolling through my phone when a notification popped up from the municipal department, informing us of something.

MC: The city will experience cold weather tonight, with a risk of icy roads. All units and individuals are advised to take necessary precautions to stay warm and safe.

Looking at the snowflakes falling more and more outside the window, I couldn't help but worry about the two cats in the park.

The mother cat was expecting kittens. I wonder if she can make it through.

MC: Why don't we bring some warm items for the cat? That rock garden is exposed to the wind from all sides...

Before I could even finished speaking, Shaw emerged from the bedroom fully dressed and walked swiftly to the entryway in a few strides.

I was stunned for a moment, but he had already put on his shoes and was leaning against the wall, smiling at me.

MC: Huh? Where are you going?

Shaw: The park. Aren't you worried? Let's go check them out. MC: Are you clairvoyant? How did you show up right when I was mumbling? Shaw: I'm clairvoyant. If you keep staring into the distance, you'll turn into an ice sculpture. Do you think I can't guess what you're thinking? Shaw: Put on your gloves and let's go.

When we arrived at the park with the blanket, we found that the tortoiseshell mother cat wasn't in good condition. Though it took some effort, we successfully brought both cats to the hospital.

Since the mother cat was a bit weak, the doctor recommended keeping her under observation. The tabby cat was fine, so after getting vaccinated, we temporarily took it to our home.

But I didn’t expect——————

Shaw: Don't run!

The sofa cushions were scattered messily on the floor, the tissue box on the coffee table was scratched up, and next to the overturned teacup was a trail of cat paw prints damp with water.

We followed the wet paw prints to the kitchen, where a paw sticking out from behind the curtain revealed the culprit's hiding spot.

Shaw put on an apron, tossed me a pair of kitchen gloves, and then moved forward to pull back the curtain. Together, we cornered the tabby cat against the wall.

Realizing it had nowhere to escape, the tabby cat let out a low growl, making a final stand.

MC: Little kitty, you can't keep wrecking the house...

I tried to soothe it as I bent down and reached out to pick it up, but that gave it the perfect opportunity.

The tabby cat suddenly made a dash, trying to escape between Shaw's and my legs.

Shaw: Where to run!

Shaw reacted quickly, grabbing the tabby cat by the scruff of its neck and putting it back into the carrier.

Although the place was a mess, half an hour of battling wits and nerves had left us both exhausted.

I leaned closer to Shaw, and he raised his arms and hugged me directly.

MC: Fortunately, you are here, otherwise the whole house would be turned upside down.

Shaw: It’s quite clever. We tried to change its cushion to make it more comfortable, and it took the opportunity to escape.

At this moment, though confined in the carrier, the tabby cat still hadn’t given up its resistance.

It kept pawing at the carrier, trying to push open the door with its paws. After several unsuccessful attempts, it switched to vocalizing its dissatisfaction at us.

First he growled a few words, and then there was an angry "meow, meow, meow, meow".

Cat: Meow! Meow! Meow%meow&! Meow meow meow! Meow meow meow meow!

Shaw: Although I don’t understand it, this guy must have scolded me quite unpleasantly.

MC: ......I feel so too.

Seeing that it wasn’t stopping, I decided to use food to try to calm it down.

MC: Maybe eating something will help.

I got up to fetch some cat food and carefully placed it inside the carrier using a bottle cap.

The tabby cat sniffed it but wasn’t moved, and even growled at me twice.

Shaw sprang up from the sofa, took a few strides to the carrier, and leaned down to stare at the tabby cat.

Shaw: Hey, don't blame me for responding to violence with violence.

Sensing Shaw's "aura of intimidation," the tabby cat turned its head away and let out two low meows.

But then, there was a series of familiar "meow meow meow meow".

MC: What should we do? We can't let it continue to scream like this.

I was a little helpless, but Shaw raised his eyebrows slightly and turned his head, looking confident.

Shaw: Don’t you have an online meeting later? Shaw: You go first and I'll take care of it.

—

[Section 4]

By the time I got to the living room after the meeting, the mess had been sorted out.

The tabby cat was released and was now lying in a corner of the living room. From the next room, I could hear Shaw’s intermittent voice where he was making a phone call.

Although I don't know how Shaw "solved" it, seeing that it didn't look as fierce as before, I felt a little relieved and walked slowly to the flight box.

MC: Don’t you like this cat food?

Seeing that the cat food I put in just now showed no sign of being touched, I planned to open a can for it first and wait for Shaw to finish the call before asking for details.

I took the opened can and put it in front of the tabby cat, but it was still unmoved after smelling it just like before.

I persistently shook the can of food in front of it, but the tabby cat just twitched its ears.

Shaw: Why do I get the bad attitude from you, while you’re so gentle with these little guys? Playing favorites?

Shaw poked his head out of the room and curled his lips.

MC: You finished your call? Why did you let it out? Aren't you afraid it’ll wreck the house again? Shaw: Of course it's because it's solved.

Shaw walked over to me and picked up the tabby cat from the floor.

Shaw: I've trained it well, if you don't believe it, look at it.

Shaw held the cat's hind legs with one hand, supported its chest with the other, and handed it over to me.

MC: Be careful, don't let it scratch you. Shaw: Its arrogance has long disappeared. Isn't it submissive now? Shaw: Now it's on my side of the battle. MC: Phew, then I’m even more “scared”!

Seeing Shaw mischievously lift the cat again, I instinctively closed my eyes and laughed, pretending to surrender with raised hands.

Although the cat moved a bit instinctively, as Shaw said, there was no sign of violence or retaliation. It even yawned.

Its previously fierce appearance now seemed somewhat cute and endearing.

The afternoon sun shines through the window and onto Shaw's body, creating a warm glow.

Compared to the scene of battling wits just now, the current moment of harmony between the person and a cat seems particularly peaceful and idyllic.

MC: He's so well-behaved and quite cute. Shaw: The biggest hero without exaggeration, should we praise it? MC: Don't you know your prowess extends beyond this? It's too early for praises. Shaw: You've got quite the foresight, well noted.

He put the cat down, turned around and placed the can in front of it.

The tabby cat sniffed around, glanced at Shaw, then leisurely started eating.

Shaw: Mission accomplished. MC: Wow, you are quite capable! Just now, it refused to eat no matter how much I fed it. MC: Looks like you've gained quite a bit of experience from Mountain King and Little Flower. Shaw: It's okay, mainly because of good understanding.

As he spoke, Shaw raised his hand and touched the tabby cat head. Looking at the cat's obedient appearance, I couldn't help but be curious.

MC: How to train it well? Can you teach me too~

Shaw: Teach you? What is the reward? Shaw: This is top secret. I'll have to see if it's a good deal and then tell you. MC: What do you want in return? Shaw: Look at you. Shaw: But you should know that I like to be paid sincerely.

Shaw casually shrugged his shoulders, then slightly leaned forward, a mischievous gleam in his narrow eyes.

With the sudden closeness, I already had a good idea of what was coming, but seeing his determined look, I didn't want to be led by him.

MC: …….. Shaw: While I'm in a good mood now, if you ask later, the reward will be doubled.

Knowing he always follows through on his word, despite feeling a bit annoyed, curiosity got the best of me. After some hesitation, I pecked at his cheek.

MC: .......Is this reward enough? Shaw: Not bad, I guess there's some sincerity in it.

The corners of Shaw's lips raised, not hiding the bright smile in his eyes.

He immediately took out his mobile phone and clicked on the video file inside.

The purring sound came through, and in the video, the tortoiseshell cat was being well taken care of, sleeping on a soft cushion, even comfortably changing its position.

It turned out that he asked someone from the hospital to take a video of the female cat.

Perhaps hearing a familiar voice, the tabby cat also came over.

Shaw handed me the phone, and the tabby cat ran over to my arms, even rubbing against me in a friendly manner.

Shaw: This guy, whoever has his girlfriend in their hands, he'll cozy up to them.

Watching the peacefully sleeping cat in the video, I replayed it again.

Shaw: Scroll down, there are several more. Shaw: Just now I asked the doctor for some new ones, but I haven't had time to see them yet.

In the next video, the tortoiseshell cat had already woken up from its nap. It watched as the doctor approached with a cat treat, mewling softly.

Shaw mischievously reached out to block it, but to everyone's surprise, the tabby cat actually followed his hand, as if inviting Shaw to pet its head.

Seeing the helplessness and a little disgust on his face, I couldn't help but laugh.

MC: Actually, its temper is quite good. It's probably only aggressive towards us because of its girlfriend. Shaw: How long has it been since they last saw each other? And it's already like this. Shaw: I thought it had some kind of fierce temperament, but it turns out it's just a lovesick fellow. MC: Lovesick? MC: ......Okay, I get it now. MC: So, some people haven't seen each other for a few days during exam week. I found out that their phone screens have my photo on them, and they call me every day— MC: Could it be they're trying to cure lovesickness?

Thinking about how eager he looked when talking about rewards earlier, I deliberately elongated my tone.

Seemingly caught off guard by my remark, Shaw paused for a moment, then slowly uttered a response.

Shaw: That's different. MC: What's the difference? Shaw: I'm much more handsome than him.

—

🐈 Call

[love-toxin]

I'm so in love with the way you write!! Especially bully!Eddie, he makes me feel all gooey inside<3 can't wait to see what you write next, pretty 🥰✨

hehehe!!! take this!!! (yes i am using this as an opportunity to be self-indulgent AND festive even tho i finished this a little late LOL <3)

(cws: bully!dad!eddie, f!mom!angelface, christmas festivities, gift-giving, teasing, mentions of postpartum healing and a past of poverty living, set 5 years post-babytrapping, fluff.)

If you thought Eddie wasn't gonna bother getting gifts for your children before he became a father, you would be beyond wrong. He's always been mean, always been rough, but ever since that first Christmas you spent together as a family, he's been the biggest softie you've ever seen for his babies.

Your first one, Elliott, is getting bigger by the day--he's five and still as much of an angel as the day he was born, dark curls exploding all over his head and freckles dusting his nose. Lorien, who just turned four, is a clumsy little guy with his father's eyes and your soft, demure smile. And Trinity is still a bit too small to show much personality yet, but she's giggly and a good sleeper and quite happy for a two-month-old in a chaotic house full of boys. They all get spoiled, but not rotten, lucky for you. Eddie can at least be strict at times and you don't fold easily to those glimmery little eyes when the boys are begging for something they want. But that definitely changes at Christmas, when your husband plays the role of Santa so well you might as well slap a fake beard on his chin and give him a suit to go with his sack of goodies.

However, that same gesture hasn't exactly extended to you. It's not one-sided--you don't really get him much, either--but Eddie's gifts to you in the last five years have been pretty scarce. Your birthday is always a different story and so is his, but with having at least one child each year and that number growing over time, as well as struggling to pay bills and keep the roof over your heads on a single income, presents haven't ever really been a spectacle between you two. Usually it's some chocolate if he can afford it, or simply a kiss and the promise of a date during those couple years where you could barely avoid food, those awful times when you literally scrounged for whatever pennies you could save just to get your children something to open on Christmas morning. All the while watching and feeling a sense of relief at their excitement, all while yours and Eddie's stomachs rumbled with hunger but your boys sat full and satisfied.

But those days of struggling are over, at least for the foreseeable future. This year Eddie's taken over a considerable chunk of the garage as a partner and started doing detail work on the side, and with the success of that as well as the band picking up more and more gigs, you've watched those fears of not being able to provide for your children slowly vanish in your rearview. You even have a job yourself, part-time at the general store where you can chat away with Joyce and have a little time and money to yourself. This is the first year you're actually spending the holidays in a house instead of the trailer, one that you scouted out and Eddie bought, and with all those changes under your belts, you've managed to carve out quite the life for yourself and your little family.

And Eddie's changing, too. You'll never be proud of what you did, you're sure you'll never not feel a little sick at the memory of sabotaging his contraceptives all those years ago. But you've grown and so has Eddie--he's still gruff, and can be a little prickly around the edges when he's in a mood, but your opinion of him definitely changed when you watched him become a parent. And not in the literal sense, just at Elliott's birth. You've watched him become gentle and sweet and learn how to manage himself, you've seen him apply those behaviors to you and you've even gotten some good moments out of him--an apology, for one, and a promise as well.

"I'm never gonna be perfect, I know. But I'll...I'll be the kinda guy a girl like you deserves. I'll be good to you. And....fuck, I mean, I'll try and make it up to you for all that stupid shit. I'll just....I'll find a way, okay? I'll find a way."

That way had been a ring and another baby, the latter of the two being pure coincidence, but he really is making an effort. That much is obvious in the littlest things, like how he waved you off to bed and told you he'd take care of the baby tonight, doing all the feeding and burping and changing and soothing that would usually be shared between the two of you. His only excuse had been that it was Christmas Eve, and he expected a damn good breakfast in the morning for all that last-minute grocery shopping he'd had to do for you the day before. But even as he served you all that indignation and sass, he had cradled your baby girl in his arms as he gave you a kiss, and quietly smiled down at her as he cooed a little lullaby and you snuggled up in your bed to sleep.

"Mommy! It's Christmas, mommy! Wake up!"

When you're finally shaken awake by your boys at eight am sharp, you almost aren't sure where you are, or what day it is--you've been so exhausted taking care of your newborn that you've forgotten what a good night's sleep is. They hop around cheering and grabbing at you to get you up, only calming down enough to lean in for kisses when you bid them a good morning. When you're eventually dragged out of bed by those two excitable little gremlins and stumble half-awake through the hallway, you nearly bump right into your husband as he's carrying your daughter back to her bassinette.

"Mmh....Eds, did you sleep?"

"A little." Somehow, he's grinning, despite it being so early and him sporting bags under his tired eyes. You hadn't been woken up once that you can remember, not even to breastfeed, which would mean that Eddie had been up with Trin for pretty much the whole night in the nursery. Not unusual, but....well, sometimes you forget he can be pretty thoughtful when he feels like it. With a kiss placed on your daughter's head, and another sleepily pressed to Eddie's lips, you rub your eyes and let your sons take each hand to pull you down the steps to go see what Santa left you all. And, as per usual, only half-listening to their father's nagging to slow it down, so you don't go flying!

Fortunately, by the time you're down the stairs and Eddie's on your heels, you've blinked away snough of the sleep that you can stretch and yawn and shake off the tiredness that had kept you so soft and warm in bed. You let the boys take the lead as they hurry into the living room, and when you turn the corner to join them, you're met with quite the unexpected surprise. One that leaves you so pleasantly shocked that even Eddie can't smother his low, soft laughter as he comes up behind you for a kiss to your ear.

Waiting for your boys at the base of the tree are the gifts you and Eddie had wrapped and placed there, making sure to do so later in the night to give your boys a proper taste of that innocent belief in Santa Claus. But Eddie's ploy of staying up with the baby evidently wasn't all for the reasons he had supposed--you can see now that the stockings you had put up over the back of the couch, purely just for decoration, have been stuffed full to bursting with sweets and little toys and trinkets. You've got three of them, one for each child with their names stitched in by Eddie's careful hands, but there's another one that wasn't there last night. Smaller, cuter, but still with a few goodies inside that look like your favourite chocolates peeking out the top and some fuzzy socks. When you turn to look at him, he doesn't even pretend he wasn't looking, although he swerves around you and does pretend to be occupied with soothing your still-sleeping baby.

"Looks like Santa got a lot of work done, huh, boys?" You call out to them while not breaking your locked stare with your husband, arms crossing over your chest as you exchange a few looks that don't feel as innocent as they once were. Eddie winks in that confident way that stirs a heat up in your belly, before he turns and moves to lay your daughter down in the little handmade cradle by the wall that he's left out since the boys were small enough to sleep in it.

"Uh huh! Mama, look! Santa gave you presents!" Lorien calls right back to you, plopped down right next to his brother as they wait on the rug by the tree, practically vibrating with excitement. You quirk an eyebrow, but Eddie hustles over and distracts them by starting up the train of gift-unwrapping, handing each of them their first present with a warm sort of smile that doesn't come around all that often. With their interests piqued and their excited squeals coming out as they tear through the colourful paper, you pull the crib over a few feet to include your little girl in the festivities and take a seat on the couch. You're definitely still on the mend from Trinity's birth, and you don't mind rocking the little wooden cradle as you watch your children laugh and thank mommy, daddy, and Santa for their new toys.

They're such sweet kids, and you don't feel like you're that amazing of a person, so it's really quite the phenomenon that they've turned out to be such respectful and kind little boys. Elliott is so gentle in helping his little brother open the harder to unwrap presents, and they both hold each side of the gifts they got for you and for Eddie as they place them in your laps, giggling and squirming when they get a hail of kisses on their faces as thanks for the little drawings and handmade necklaces. But after most of the pile has diminished, and your sons are thoroughly wiped out from the excitement and looking forward to breakfast, Eddie tilts his head and gestures towards the kitchen.

"Go get a snack, and watch your cartoons in the den until breakfast. Help your brother open his, El."

"Okay, daddy!" With one of their new toys in hand and one last tight, gripping hug on each side for their beloved father, Elliott grabs Lorien's little hand and leads him towards the kitchen, both sets of adult ears tuning in to hear the sounds of them bustling around before they get to the right cupboard, and hustle into the playroom in a fit of giggles to catch their favourite cartoons. Then, and only then, does Eddie drag out those presents that had been hiding around the back of the tree, and drops them carefully in front of you until there's at least six or seven boxes by your feet. It isn't until you pick one up and read the tag on it that you realize it's addressed to you, and with a nervous bite to your lip you look back at your husband without much to say. Is it a prank? He encourages you to open them, and when you pull one of those mid-sized boxes towards you and gingerly lift the top off, you blink away the surprise of seeing a few nice, soft sweaters lying inside. All three are somewhat similar to cashmere if not the real thing, they're in your size, they're in colours you like....but he brushes off your awed thank-yous and just puts another gift in your lap, waiting anxiously for you to open it and find the hair clips and little makeup set inside that you'd been wanting.

"Eddie....really, you didn't have to get me anything. You didn't have to get me this much."

"Oh, shut your mouth, you little goody-goody. Take the damn gifts." He shakes off your gratitude like a wet dog, and shoves the next present into your hands before you can even fawn over the one you've already got. Yet, despite coming off as aggressive as he can be, he's got that smug smirk crawling its way across his lips whenever you seem shocked or excited at what he had bought you. But when the hail of presents is done with, and Christmas morning has officially wrapped up, you feel a sense of guilt as you thumb through the books and the tapes he had got you for the new cassette player you have. While you've definitely gone without any gift exchanging in other years, you did get him some new work gloves and a pic case with the Metallica logo on it this time, but it doesn't seem like it's enough. And he can tell by the way you meekly apologize for your pathetic gift-giving, although he doesn't scoff or poke fun at you like he usually would. He just....looks down at his hands, and fiddles with the string on his plaid sleep pants before he answers you.

"You gave me three kids, and a life, and....and a reason to live. You didn't need to get me anything, and you shouldn't have, cause...." He trails off, and you sit there slack-jawed in awe of what you're hearing, wondering if that's really what you're hearing, because it's so rare for Eddie to be touchy-feely when he's also being lucid about his own behavior. You know he knows how he acts is cruel at times, which is why he's really toned down since you first got pregnant and when you had the boys and Trinity. I'm not gonna be like my father. That's what he had said, and he's kept his word since then. Even so, he slips up at times, but you never would've thought that even with all the progress he's made, he'd do something like this completely out of the blue. Eddie smiles at some thought he's got in his head, and reaches over to clasp his warm, rough hand over yours, and you turn your wrist so you can hold it back and lace your fingers together as your palms touch. "Sometimes, I only got up in the mornings because I knew I'd get to see you. I'd get to bully that dumb smile off your face and make you cry, and I'd feel something."

Maybe it's something in the air, but you feel the courage well up inside you to bring your entwined hands up to your face, and kiss each one of his knuckles so tenderly. Usually that would serve as an oportunity for Eddie to flick your nose or jab at you for being a cheesy, mushy crybaby, but shockingly again he says nothing and just....smiles again. It feels normal. Maybe he's been doing it more recently, and you just haven't noticed.

"Now I got people that depend on me, I....I got people who care whether I live or die. I can work hard day after day, and know that the ones I love will get something out of it. I'm someone's fucking dad. That's crazy." Just as the words come out of his mouth, you hear the squeals and laughter of your boys in the other room, along with the soft gurgling of your precious little girl as she starts waking up. He really isn't wrong, he works incredibly hard to provide and even when he grumbles and complains as he pulls himself out of bed to cover someone's no-show shift, he still comes home with a tired smile to welcome his boys into a hug and waltzes in to kiss you hello. He teases you to no end but he still holds you when you're in pain, he takes your complaints and worries so seriously and never misses a chance to bring you to the clinic or pick up your medicines if that's what you need. And even after twelve, thirteen, or fourteen hour shifts where everything's gone wrong and he just wants to pass out for the whole evening, you still stir awake to get a bleary-eyed look at his bare back as he stands over Trinity's bassinette, soothing and bottle-feeding her late into the night so you won't have to get up.

"You're an amazing father, Eddie." You lean into him, a kiss pressed to his jaw as you hold his hand so closely to your chest, and even with your head resting on his shoulder and his breath hitching when yours puffs against his skin, he still rumbles out a soft bit of mockery to fill the empty space between.

"Shut up. Fucking softie.....I love you."

"I love you too." You kiss his chin this time, and he takes the hint to tilt his head down and capture your lips when you go in for another. He's chapped and warm, he smells of milk and a bit of menthol along with his cologne, and it's the strangest combination but it so encompasses Eddie as he is now. He's the kind of father that would get his children McDonald's and watch them eat with a smile as his stomach rumbled, and he's the kind of husband that would agree to share your meal just to take the most unintrusive bite of your burger and tell you he's full. And he's the type of man that, if you ever fell back on those hard times again, would do it all over and more if it meant making sure that his wife and children were taken care of. And still he asks for nothing, but you know by the way he had stared down at the drawings and that pic case and traced the insignia that he'll treasure those moments forever--he'll always know that he's loved, and that his sacrifices will always mean something to your family, especially when your kids grow up and find those same values within themselves. Hopefully, with your influence included, without any of those feelings of abandonment or turmoil that Eddie's still working at undoing with you as you both grow older.

As you sit there together, cuddling and holding one another with plentiful thumps of your hearts, you squeeze his arm so tight and let him feel how much love tightens around it in a hug. He looks so peaceful, and you just have to take the chance to teasingly throw his favourite words right back at him as he looks so solemn and lost in thought. "You gonna cry, you little baby?"

"Fuck you," He spits back immediately with a grin, turning to look down on you and following it up with an especially passionate kiss. If it weren't for your kids being in the other room, and for Trinity starting to stir in the crib as she yawns, it probably wouldn't have stopped there. But for now it does, and Eddie helps you to your feet as you hug him close one last time before moving to welcome your little girl into your arms, and see what she's feeling like so you can hopefully omit some oncoming discomfort. Clingy as ever, Eddie snakes his arms around you from behind one last time as you hold her, kissing your cheek over your shoulder and gently bopping Trin's little Munson nose before he whispers his plans for breakfast in your ear, and slips away to duck into the kitchen.

"Boys! Breakfast in ten! Bacon, yes or no?"

"Yes!" The two of them shout back to their father from the playroom, and you chuckle to yourself as he pretends to mishear them just to elicit a playful reaction, as they frantically correct their daddy while you spend a little time tending to your newborn. Thankfully she doesn't seem too hungry yet, just a little restless, so you lay her back down in the crib and make a mental note to remind Eddie to bring the whole thing over to the table so you can all eat as a family. For now, though, you find yourself meandering back through the archway to find your husband at the stove, several pans already laid out and a carton of eggs open as he's in the midst of cracking a few and humming. You recognize the tune, One Night in the City, and you find yourself joining in with a softer voice as you come up from behind, and wrap your arms around him to lovingly rub his belly the way he likes. It's kinda sweet how surprised he always is to find that you've remembered things like that about him, and as always, he has to brush it off with a few words so he doesn't have to acknowledge how special it makes him feel.

"You love me, huh? That's embarrassing." Even so, he grazes the hand you've got on his stomach with his own, smiling silently to himself as he cracks another egg into the pan with a sssh as the whites hit the hot steel.

[dreadsuitsamus]

U Got It Bad | Kensei Muguruma x Reader |

author's note: i'm testing the waters here. this is a modified version of one of my personal selfship writings i've done, and i've changed it up into a reader insert rather than the kensei x ellie story it originally was. i am very tentative about this lol but i figured i should at least try it. this is an au, and if you have any questions feel free to ask! it's based heavily on my own imaginings, obviously, and there are many details not mentioned as this is part of a series of events i've already written. it's inspired by the song u got it bad by usher, as that is mine and kensei's song

pairing: kensei x fem!reader

warnings: au, first date, mentions of sexy selfies but that's as nsfw as it gets, fluff

When Kensei wakes up on an early Saturday morning, he begins his normal routine of breakfast and prepping his protein shake. And as he sits down to eat, he checks his text messages and snorts softly as there's a new one you sent to him just a few hours ago. That alone is the difference between you both, he thinks. He's up early at five a.m., and you were up late at three a.m.

He likes you, he truly does! How could he not? You're mischievous and witty, not to mention quite cute, an extreme flirt, and sexy too! He hasn't seen you since that night at the bar when you ‘met’, but he turned on just a bit of his charm to get a picture of you to ‘refresh his memory' the day after he got that napkin with your name and number scribbled onto it.

Now, did he use it with intentions of maybe getting a sexy picture? Yes, yes he did.

He's not exactly proud of it, but he did get what he wanted! Your mirror selfie of you in a tiny robe had Kensei's mouth practically watering at the image of your gorgeous legs, and the cleavage naturally drew his eye as well! Your friends chided you when you showed them the picture that you'd sent him, but with the encouraging words of a particularly wonderful friend, there was no room for any shame in your heart. Plus, Kensei’s opinion and returned selfie certainly boosted that confidence. He was at the gym at the time and took a perfect picture just as he finished his shower! Towel around his waist and no shirt to be found, with that silver hair all mussed and that wet body—

Though that's when you admitted to him that you are, in fact, a virgin, and God if that didn't shake Kensei to his core. Beyond the how the hell has nobody ever fucked you senseless part of it, it's a stark realization of the maturity difference between you. You may only be four years apart in age, but when you were fourteen, Kensei was eighteen! He was in the military for a year at that point! It makes him feel weird.

Twenty-one and twenty-five is different than that, though the playing field between you still isn't exactly even. He's a grown man with the PTSD to show for his military tenure, and he's in college with a full time job under his belt. You're a young college girl who still has her bright eyes!

Gorgeous, glittery eyes that is…

Kensei shakes his head and opens up the text, snorting at the contents.

stop being stubborn and give me your saturday night!!!!! 😤

He can't fight the smile that pulls his lips. You've been talking for about a month now and have been prodding him to take you on a date for weeks. Kensei's been on dates, but he's never really been on one he liked or ultimately wanted to be on. To say he's had girlfriends in the past isn't a complete overstatement of the relationship status, but they were ultimately never anybody he'd consider taking home to his mother.

He thinks it's cute how badly you want to go out with him though. And he's run through all of his go-to excuses by now, and if he wanted to he could probably find another… But he doesn't find himself wanting to do all that. It's been a while since he's had some fun and his classes and job keep him busy and stressed, so why not take a pretty girl on a date? It'll certainly only be the one date, that's for sure. You're far too precious for his usual tricks, and he's not sure he should be the one to take your virginity. You should save yourself for someone special, like you said you wanted to when he asked why you hadn't taken that step yet.

Send me your address and I'll pick you up at eight o’clock tonight.

Kensei laughs out loud when you text him back within a handful of seconds, quickly typing another message out. Get some rest. You want my Saturday night, you're getting the whole night.

fiiiiiiine. but tell me this first— what color dress should i wear?

Ken hums thoughtfully. That black dress you wore at the bar was so sexy... But he'd really love to see you in something red.

And the thrill that runs through him when he picks you up and lays eyes on you has him lit up from head to toe. Not even his wildest dreams could have prepared him for just how good you look for him. Red dress, as requested, matching stilettos, and a fresh gel pedicure with shiny red nails, gold jewelry and shiny lips that just scream vanilla cupcake lip gloss…

You have so much fun together that the night’s come to a close before you've even realized it. You had dinner, took a walk, bar hopped… And Kensei can't keep himself from willing the clock to slow down, just a bit. This is your one date he agreed to… But as he watches you sing Mr. Brightside with a vodka cranberry in one hand and a chicken tender in the other, he just can't stop thinking about more.

More time together. More dates. More… Everything.

Two a.m. rolls around and the last bar you stopped in closes, and Kensei takes you back home then. The ride to your apartment building, which isn't too far away from his own, is the quietest it's been between you the whole night. You've sobered up quite a bit, thanks to Kensei ordering regular cranberry juice for the last three drinks you asked for. Humming along to the music on the radio, soon Kensei’s parking the car and coming around to the passenger side. He's slow, savoring the final moments of the best date he's ever been on. Casually yet boldly slipping his hand in yours as you walk inside and to the elevator, you carefully rest your head on his arm as you head up to your floor.

Glancing up at him and smiling warmly, your eyes sparkle. “Thank you for tonight, Kensei. I had so much fun.”

God, he's melting. “Me too.”

“I told you you would! We could've done this weeks ago!” You laugh, and Kensei just shakes his head. It wouldn't have been this perfect any other time but now, he thinks.

You gradually approach the door to your apartment, and you stop before him and squeeze his hands. “Goodnight. Get home safe, okay? You better text me!”

“I will, I will.” Kensei murmurs. How the hell does he cut this one off? Can he?

Your hand gently slips to the back of his neck as you get on your tiptoes to place a sweet kiss on his cheek, your red lipstick leaving behind a perfect stain, the gloss on top making it shiny and even more obvious. Swiping your thumb over his jaw, you go to turn towards the door to unlock it. Kensei cups your face, though, with one of those large palms, pressing a soft kiss to your temple first. And next thing he knows, he's in the car that smells like your perfume and is on his way home.

The first song to play as he leaves the parking lot feels like a bullet to his chest, and he finds himself looking in his rearview a little too often, just to see that gorgeous proof of your kiss on his skin.

You got it, you got it bad.

[rowanfalls]

No joke, I think dungeon meshi has seriously impacted my desire to be healthy for the better. A very long and heartfelt (but spoiler free) essay is under the cut.

I have Avoidant Restrictive Food Intake Disorder. Because of my OCD, some foods are safe and some are not and I would literally rather starve than eat an unsafe food (i know because it happened once on a trip to Switzerland). This means I mostly eat chicken nuggets, buttered noodles, donuts, soda, the like. The only vegetable I can eat is cooked broccoli and the only fruit I can eat is apples (smoothies not withstanding).

I'm also physically disabled in a way that makes it hard for me to exercise or do physical activity, not to mention how my ADHD and Depression fuck with that as well. I'm 'lucky'* in that I have a genetic disposition towards being very thin and probably will stay that way until I'm in my 40s (my dad was exactly the same at my age).

So I eat mostly junk food and I sit at my computer all day every day and for a long time, I've been happy with that. When I tell people about my Eating Disorder, they usually say "oh, is there a way to fix it?" and my answer is always "why would I want to?" Its not like an allergy or a medical dietary restriction. I don't LIKE any of the foods I can't eat. I don't have any reason to want to learn how to eat them.

Besides health reasons of course. I know in my head that not eating any vegetables isn't good for me but I also know that I don't really want to eat them and, for most of my adulthood, I've lived with the mindset that I think a lot of people my age have where they hear so many people say 'just eat well and exercise!' as a solution to every problem and so they tend to hate the idea of doing that. The health industry is full of too many people who are fatphobic assholes or who think a green smoothie can cure your depression for good or who just want your money or whatever and I hate that. And so I've kind of felt above exercise and nutrition.

But then I read Dungeon Meshi.

Even in the beginning, the manga was super inspiring. The way Senshi talks about taking care of your body so you can go on adventures makes it sound like something I might want to do. So much of today's health advice is shame based and, as someone who grew up in and left a high demand control group, I work hard not to tolerate shame in my life. But Dungeon Meshi posits a new view of health and nutrition, one that is centered in love for the self, love for your friends, and love for your food. It resonated with me in a way that I really wasn't expecting it to.

Over the last few years, I've been working really hard to become a compassionate person. This year, my new goal is learning to turn that compassion inward and I've been trying to do that in several different ways. When I finished reading Dungeon Meshi I knew that one of those ways was going to have to be improving my diet and exercise.

I want to be able to go on adventures (as tame and simple as they may be). I want to live as long as possible to spend time with my loved ones. I want to be able to walk around and exist without pain for as much of that time as I can. I want to love my body and act accordingly, making sure it is well fed and cared for. Hell, I've always loved the idea of cooking but haven't had the energy to really learn, especially since I can't eat most foods, but now the idea of taking the time to cultivate a skill like that, one that I can be proud of and that can be used to care for my friends, fills me with a sense of hope and excitement.

So thank you Dungeon Meshi, and thank you Ryoko Kui. If you haven't read the manga, I highly recommend that you do.

*by lucky I mean that my diet hasn't forced me to deal with the stigma that comes with being fat. I have no idea what kinds of problems it's been causing that I just can't see. I am not saying that it would be bad if I were fat, just that not being thin would mean I faced a lot more stigma and discrimination in my life, which is bad.

[onthepyre]

my dear moot. so gallavich are fuckbuddies and the ian leaves and becomes an emt and then what??? how do they get back together? do they like. see each other in the couple years between because of mandy or other people or do they go no contact?? if it's no contact then why do they see each other again?? i desperately need to know. i'm invested in this au definitely more than i should be since i haven't even finished the show yet but like. it's amazing. i'm obssesed

omg hi!!!!!! thank you so so much for the question. i swear im still spinning this au around in my head ive just been so very preoccupied lately but i intend to write about that first night in the bar soon so keep an eye out for that. BUT! i will put the answer to this under a cut because it got longwinded.

so i want to start with why things fizzle out in the first place. they start up very much like canon gallavich - ian is ass over teakettle for mickey, and mickey, while definitely interested, isn't nearly as invested. things diverge from their canon characterization around the time of mick and svet's marriage. ian remains pissed, but rather than fucking off to the army, he stays - and it triggers his first major depressive episode.

and then mickey's like....... dude what the fuck is going on with you. because mickey, at this point, has bigger fucking fish to fry. instead of him being ian's main caretaker during this time it falls on the other gallaghers and mickey's just sort of around, in the periphery, and then when ian hits that manic upswing again, a LOT of the insane reckless shit he does is with or for mickey. but they never hit that deeper connection that we see gallavich develop in seasons 4/5 because they're just too fucking busy

so then ian quits work, and that's fine, but that means he and mickey dont really see much of each other anymore. they try to keep things up for a little bit, but it's just not really convenient since they aren't constantly in the same place, and so they're just kind of like, well whatever.

(they are both secretly very sad about this. but neither of them wants to come out and say that. so they just don't.)

and yeah, they do end up seeing each other a little, because ian and mandy are still friends, and she's probably so, SO tired of his bullshit, because he tells her all of these conflicting feelings he's having. she drops these stupid-obvious hints to mickey, but he's got a thick skull. so mostly she just pesters ian.

and then a little over a year goes by before the next major event - eventually they kind of put each other in the back of their minds, not really forgotten but not a main figure anymore. maybe ian gets a boyfriend, for real. but he still hasn't exactly nailed the balance of his meds, and though he doesn't experience the full spectrum anymore, there's definitely periods of time that...... aren't quite right. so he finds himself in one of those, and he gets off work and, well, that bar he used to work at is kind of close. and he kind of misses that messy thing he had going with mickey. and he drops in.

he gets more than a little tipsy at the bar, hanging around waiting for mickey to come in - and eventually he does. and ian isn't really sure how to approach this, but you know what always worked for him? starting a fight. so he does that. he calls mickey over, brings him outside, and just fucking. socks him in the face. and it does what ian wants it to! they beat the shit out of each other, take a little breather for mickey to ask what the fuck that was about, and in response, ian kisses him. they barely make it inside before their pants are off.

but ian, for the most part at least, has his life on track right now. he can't get involved in organized crime, he's a fucking emt. he has shit to be doing. his brother's a cop, even if a corrupt one. so he leaves that night, as much as it pains him, and puts it in the past. for a bit.

but FUCK! it hurts more this time. it SUCKS, suddenly, very badly. he wants nothing more than to go back again and apologize and start over, start it again the right way. and though ian loves mandy, he doesn't really trust her judgement on this specific thing. so he confides in lip. lip says, no dude, you did the right thing. don't spend more time around them than you need to. and ian takes that advice! for a little while.

another ten months goes by. it's been two years - two years! - since they had a regular thing going. and really? they're still stuck on each other. mickey very nearly reaches out a few times, but svet worries they'd be spending too much time with the gallaghers. and mickey trusts her.

thing is? yev's a clumsy kid. when he's about three, mickey turns his back for all of ten seconds and yev pulls a pot of boiling water down from the stove - and onto himself. it only really gets his arm, but it's a LOT of his arm, and naturally, mickey freaks the fuck out! and like, ive mentioned this offhand before, but he and svet are STUPID protective over their boy. like, would kill for him protective. so he calls 911. guess who shows up?

ian. of course it's ian. so they treat yev and get everything sorted out, but fuck, if watching mickey be a good dad isn't, for some fucking reason, the hottest thing ian's ever seen. and he misses him! by this point, he misses him so goddamn bad. can't get mickey out of his head. so he says, hey, you still have my number. give me a call in a couple days, let me know how yev's doing. i can come check on him, change the bandages.

and mickey calls him that night, actually. ian's like, did something happen, is yev okay? and mickey says, yeah he's fine. do you want to get dinner. and ian says yes, jesus christ, please.

and they're like, actually pretty normal from then on out. they remain ian and mickey, so of course there's ups and downs. but they're ian and mickey again.

[sansxfuckyou]

bitten, smitten- what's the difference?

Summary: He's been waiting so long for this moment

He can't go through with it

Warnings: Swearing, stuff that's suggestive because one of them is a vampire, small identity crisis, light drinking, check Ao3 port for full tags

Authors Note: I have once again written a ballroom dance scene that follows no rhyme or rhythm. anyways, I went insane over the vampire hunter Mysterion/vampire Kyle that @kennysdeadbody drew, and I am once again asking everyone to go look at his art because its good. and if ya'll enjoyed consider dropping a reblog or checking out the Ao3 port

There are three simple rules to being a vampire hunter, all of which Mysterion has been following since the first day he got his hands on a wooden stake and a silver bullet.

Rule number one: if they aren't dead, then you are, finish the job at all costs even if the cost is your life.

Rule number two: never verbalize your full name unless it's for something off duty, even at that.

Rule number three: Mysterion broke rule number three, don't fall for their charming ways no matter what.

Who can blame him either, the ever elusive Kyle Broflovski has men dying at his feet. He's slept with every monster in the encyclopedia and somehow Mysterion finds himself shocked the charm worked on him. A vampire, his sworn enemy in life, the plague he hopes to purge alongside his other companions in the business. Of all monsters, he could tolerate falling in love with a werewolf because their monstrous aspects only show once a month, but a vampire? That's full time.

Still, he's spent a year living in the town that Kyle inhabits, aware he runs the town behind the scenes. He has old money, all the power he holds is old power, inherited like everything else he has. He holds grand parties sometimes, the old style, like his town is a locked ten, twenty, thirty, forty years behind the rest of the world. And Mysterion knows he's fibbing when he says that, but he knows for the fact that the wine doesn't taste this fine outside of this town, the air isn't as clear, and the water as velvety on his throat.

He waits, tends to the crops under a different false name, Kenny, a nickname his old partner gave him before dying in the line of duty. He waits so very, very patiently for the day that he gets a chance to attend one of those grand balls that the vampire holds once more. It's not like people doubt he's a vampire, they all know he is, he's shockingly open about it. He's Kyle Broflovski, this town is his bitch, and Mysterion is his only predator who dares to set foot in his town. He flaunts his immortality, offers free food to those too poor to buy it themselves, let's those who needs a quick buck or a place to rest stay in his castle.

And he never gives a lethal bite.

There isn't a single recorded lethal bite that the hunter can find town records on, but he knows it isn't because Kyle doesn't bite. Every single vampire needs to feed, to drain a human till they die or else the vampire will die. It's common knowledge, they all have a bloodlust, unmistakably so, it's what makes them vampires. They need to drink at least once a year or else they'll go rabid and after the craze, then they keel over.

The invitation arrives when he's packing his bags, getting ready to leave because luck hasn't been kind to him so far like it has in the past. He's wearing a shitty orange hoodie, scratched and dirty through years of use when off duty, and the mailman just hands him the letter wordlessly.

"Thanks man," Kenny answered with stiffly.

"It's just my job," And they're pivoting on a heel to leave before Kenny can say anything else.

He shuts the door and slides open the envelope, he tosses aside the paper casing gently. He meanders over to the kitchen and leans on the counter as he reads.

A masquerade ball shall be held on the Friday evening of October thirteenth, and you are invited as is the rest of the town. Please come with a plate of appetizers if you can manage, I fear for my main chefs health and don't want to overwork her. Arrive with a mask at the very least to keep your identity sealed, my doors are open if you so desire to stay the night in the case of drinking too much. And in the spirit of Friday the thirteenth, I'll be feeding upon someone, chosen in the usual fashion and without lethal consequences.

As always, I hope for a turnout with how fun they've been in the past, sincerely, Kyle Broflovski.

Kenny gives an amused hum, he was there last time Kyle fed at one of his balls. Someone was taken away and didn't return back to town until the next day, and Kyle returned with blood on his lips and wiping his fangs with his snow white sleeved shirt. He remembers finding it to be attractive, he also remembers berating himself for it later in the night when he was in his own home. He did see Kyle afterwards, and he looked so much more vibrant, full of life, because he stole someones life force in a sense. And the lass he drank from became his chef, Wendy, and she buys crops from Kenny as the seasons pass, and more importantly, she tells Kenny about Kyle and his habits.

She's been none the wiser to the actual career Kenny had taken up and she does have good gossip. Maybe if he wasn't out for her bosses life they could've been actual friends, not just fake friends for the sake of Kenny's own job. It would be nice, to till the field and gossip with the girls, live an innocent and naive life unaware that their vampire ruler is a bloodthirsty monster whose pulling all the strings. Even Wendy, the closest thing Kyle has too a firsthand man, is seemingly unaware of the danger she lives with and serves.

She says that he's nice, and that even in private all he ever does is play chess, backgammon, and occasionally offer to get drunk with her because she never takes a night off even though he says he can cook for himself. He fashions her dresses, and fashions suits for the men who've worked for him, a ploy, Kenny decides it's merely a ploy to lull them into false safety. He's just a gentleman, Wendy always says, he never does anything to make her displeased, he just wishes the town is prosperous.

And he scoffs every time, says a vampire took his best friend, he can't trust the man. And Wendy always answers with a somewhat smug 'how come you always attend his parties?' which consistently pins Kenny into a rough spot. He always answered with 'well maybe I find him appealing' instead of anything else, and perhaps that is what's finally deciding to come back and bite him in the ass. He's still yearning for the moment he gets to end Kyle, three days from now, he'll stake the vampire through the chest and leave. But, there's this terrible feeling at the idea, a small one, and he chalks it up to just being a shame that he doesn't get to sleep with the hottest monster he's been given the honor of slaying.

-/-/-/-

Kenny really missed the way his Mysterion garb fit on him, he hasn't worn it in nearly a year. It definitely fit tighter around the shoulders, but he supposed that tiling fields will give you some muscle. Thankfully the hood still fits like a charm, draping over his shoulders and down too just below his knees. The gloves slide on the same they always have, no chafe, and soft lining, just like the boots.

Maybe if he were a renowned vampire hunter he would choose against wearing his signature purples, but alas, he's still just a shadow in the business. Besides, the boldness to wear his vampire killing outfit to a vampires ball? He's never heard of another hunter so confident in the history of vampires being hunted and hunters hunting vampires. He'll be the first, he'll be renowned, decimating the Broflovski bloodline, one that hasn't been ended despite being so very, very old. He'll go down in history, for killing a vampire so cruel, tricking an entire town like it's nothing.

He hides the stakes to the side of his hip, hooked along belt loops and covered by his cape. He feels this burst of adrenaline (almost glee) as he slips on the mask, deep purple and tied back with a small knot of near silken fabrics. It's time, he knows the procedure of how these feeding events go, how Kyle 'chooses' even though his choice can decline. He glides onto the dancefloor with the grace of a swan and asks someone to dance, they agree and he gives them a dance, and then he bites. Sometimes he takes them to a separate room, sometimes he doesn't- Kenny just knows the only way he'll get a chance to strike is if he's chosen.

So if he messes it up, it's not his fault. It just means that he'll have no choice but to stay for one more year until Kyle has to feed again, and he has another chance to be chosen. Another chance to strike when thematically appropriate and rather bold at that.

He meets Wendy at the door and gives a genuine smile, "What do you think of my outfit?" Maybe he's being a little bit too upfront, oh well.

There's instant recognition on Wendy's face at his voice, "It looks amazing, matches your eye color," She's polite enough not to drop his name, to keep the spirit of the masquerade.

Kenny, no, he can't be in the 'Kenny' mindset right now. He'll drop a couple octaves once he's done his conversation with Wendy, "Think he'll pick me?"

And Wendy laughs, "Maybe he will, his taste changes every single year; so long as you've been easy on the garlic you're plenty a candidate."

And he has been easy on the garlic, he's fallen ill with a horrible rendition of the cold twice since he stopped eating as much of it. But he has to do so, for the job, and he had to double down on other spices and herbs to keep his food flavorful. He will wreak havoc on some innocent jackalope population if it does fail, anger management if you will.

"I haven't eaten garlic in months, if he doesn't pick me I'll die," Kenny answered with a laugh to his voice, "I really should be on my way though, I don't wanna miss my chance."

Then he's waving off Wendy and making his way in, keeping his cape curled around his hip to hide his weapon. He wasn't ever trained for social interactions, he was just told how to kill, so he isn't exactly doing this 'dancing around' thing properly. He's just chatting, drinking, trying to be social and enjoy the spirit of the event despite the sense of dread that he'll be the one to bring it all down.

It's nice, sipping slowly on fine red whines as he talks to acquaintances and people he's never met despite the town being so small. He almost doesn't want to go through with it, almost, this is his lifes work, once he's done with this mark he can leave forever. He just steels himself for when that lifeless entity enters the room and chooses someone for a dance.

That... impossibly good looking, but still heartless, creature makes his entrance. He can't believe himself for having such a thought, that's the wine talking, he supposes he's had a glass or two by now. It's the wine, he tells himself, it's the wine taking facts of matter (Kyle looks just above average) and blowing them out of proportion (Kyle is the best looking monster he's laid eyes on) instead of peeling back a layer of complexities he can't identify. He shudders at the fact his mind is spewing such nonsense, a vampire, attractive, what bullshit. Still, his face heats up the more he tries to counter the unwarranted train of thought by drawing up an image of Kyle in his head and trying to pinpoint what looks bad. What is bad, aside from him being a vampire, and he can't find shit.

There's the sound of someone clearing their throat and he looks up to find Kyle with a hand outstretched. He's wearing this sanguine grin that puts his pearly whites on display, and as usual he's dressed in a white button down and slacks. Mysterion just looks up to meet his gaze, eyes a swampy olive hue.

"May I...?" What a gentleman, and he pauses, retracting his hand just a bit.

"Mysterion," The answer is low.

Kyle gives a hum, "May I have this dance, Mysterion?"

And suddenly the blonde feels so cold, all of his nerves suddenly aware of whatever they're pressed against. It feels like the light is on him, shining bright in his eyes and on his skin. He places his gloved hand atop Kyle's, "Do be warned, I don't dance much."

There's a swift tug before Mysterion finds his back against Kyle's torso, twirling on his heel with the hand taken outstretched. One hand rests gently on his hip, "Just go with it then, I won't let you get hurt," His voice is as gentle as his grasp. Featherlight and almost a ghost of a touch, just enough to remind him of his position.

Mysterion nodded, "Cool, lead the way."

And then he's outstretched on another twirl, a foot forward and he rocks back into the motion. A foots distance between them, the hand returns to his side, resting at his shoulder blade, the other one higher up. He follows the swaying motions rather poorly, but still, he tries. He needs to at least attempt to look good in front of a crowd, it must be amusing to the vampire with how often he fumbles his footing. But, his dance partner keeps making up for it, shifting methods to work.

The hand drops to the small of his back and he twirls out instead because a dip isn't happening in full. And Kyle works around it, gliding over to find himself in front of Mysterion once more (he knocks off the hood, Mysterion knows what it means). He links their hands once more, and its the other hand this time. The blonde follows the next twist, the one under Kyle's raised arm, a pirouette that he can only describe with having similarity to a ballet routine.

He does the same to Kyle twirls him out and catches his half fall, but he slides back. He keeps himself flush against Mysterion as he sidles along the length of the blondes still outstretched arm. He swiftly pivots, hand grasping Mysterion's waist much tighter then before and fangs brushing against his throat. There's a hitch in the hunters breath as he goes rigid, hand gliding along his arm to gently grasp his hand.

"We can go somewhere more private," The offer is spoken so quietly it's clear he's trying to make sure only Mysterion hears him.

"That'd be lovely," There's a certain husk to his voice that rarely makes itself known, especially not with lethal weapons to his throat.

Kyle lifts his head and doesn't release Mysterion's hand, he leads the hunter way with a grace to his motions. The door hinges don't squeak as it's pushed wide open, leading to a comfortably wide hallway. The carpets are red, and the only light is what shines in through too tall windows and the occasional candle here and there on small tables.

Mysterions heart starts to pound a little bit faster as he tries to reach for a stake. It's already drumming so very, very loud in his chest from the dance, probably so the blood is better. His grip shakes just a bit, but this is it, he has to do it now or he'll never get another chance. He tugs his hood back up defensively, he's got this, killing his first full blood is gonna go great.

"Let's get this over with," Kyle said as he turned around, he didn't even look very shocked when he saw the stake Mysterion was brandishing.

He did give a yelp of shock when he was pounced to the ground, quick to get himself up just a bit. Knees rest at either side of his hips and there's this stressed look on Mysterion's face, holding the pommel of his stake just below the base of his ribcage with both hands. Kyle props himself up on his elbows, knees hitching reflexively, the purple fabric of the cape pools a little bit more on the floor.

Why isn't he moving?

He has his prey right where he wants it, and he isn't striking. Stake in his hands, and this impossible existence below him wearing an expression of fear never found on the ferals Mysterion usually deals with. He's used to his marks writhing and screaming and thrashing until he shoots them or cracks their by hand.

This so much worse than that, than anything else he's ever done. He can handle snuffing werewolves who are transformed. He can handle killing seemingly innocent and harmless creatures. He can handle poisoning the food of someones pet cerberus for their own safety.

Kyle sighs, "Go ahead, it's your job."

And Mysterion still doesn't, his grip just starts to shake again. He can feel sweat start to bead on his forehead, stress, he's going to crack under pressure. He's been so excited for this moment for years at this rate and his body refuses to jam the stake through the vampires chest.

He's too human. Mysterion sees too much of himself and his family and his friends in Kyle. There's too much kindness behind those eyes, his smiles are too genuine. He isn't evil, he can't be, and Mysterion can finally see that know, sort of. He's sure that Kyle will go feral if he doesn't drink, but he also knows that he's wearing his cross right now.

"Mysterion," Kyle said, raising a hand to rest on the stake, "I've known you're a vampire hunter since day one," He jerked it forward just a bit, "This is your job."

"How come you didn't get rid of me?" Mysterion asked, and his voice shook as he spoke, yanking the stake to the side.

Kyle shrugged, "You kept out the werewolves, kept my town safe, and in turn, I kept you safe."

"Fuck you mean you kept me safe?" Kenny answered with sharply as he could muster.

"What makes you think your business partners weren't ready to come and kill you for failing your job?" Kyle answered with, "They were, I dealt with them."

In a second the tip of the stake was pressed to Kyle's throat, "You killed them?!"

"I scared them off," Kyle said calmly, "I told them that if they killed you, I would end their bloodlines."

Mysterion halts, again, for the third time, the fifth time maybe, he's lost count. Mercy, from this, this monster- this person he's been sent to kill, he's been gifted mercy. And here he is, raising the stake back to where Kyle's heart would rest.

"You have business here Mysterion," Kyle said, he gave a small smile. He was fine with this, he was content with dying, "I let you go without finishing it this long, it's time to do your job."

He presses the tip of the stake to Kyle's chest.

"You're gonna be a great vampire hunter," And he sounds so fucking wistful it makes Mysterion feel like he's the one being stabbed in chest.

"I can't," The words come out strangled as he releases the stake and brushes it off of Kyle's chest like dust, "I can't."

"You kill me and go home a winner, a hero," Kyle said sternly, "Or you don't and get hunted by your once faithful companions- you have a choice."

Mysterion stood up and stepped to the side. He ran a hand through his hair with a heavy exhale. Fuck, "I can't do it, you aren't what I was brought here to kill."

"I will be if I don't drink any blood," Kyle said, smarm heavy on his voice as he stood.

"I know!" Mysterion snapped, reaching to his throat and the chain resting on it. He tugged it off, the silver cross he wore for self defense discarded.

Kyle watched it land on the carpet with rapt attention, watched one of his banes hit the floor. He glanced back up to Mysterion and stepped a bit closer.

"I came here to kill a monster, but you're not a monster," He was pacing now, back and forth. He was shaking and so close to crying, "I don't, what am I supposed to fucking do?"

"I'll say it again, kill me and live, or don't and die," Kyle said calmly, gingerly reaching for Mysterion's form, "Although, if you do kill me, may I see your face?"

The blonde nods rapidly as Kyle stands in front of him. The hood is pushed back first, delicate hands come to undo the knot next and the purple falls off Kenny's face. He leans into Kyle's hand, it's cold, but it's human, it's not monster aside from the fact his nails are sharp. He's not what Kenny was told he'd be killing.

Kyle doesn't speak, just grabs Kenny's hand with his free one, "May I?"

"May you what?" Kenny asked.

"Have a bite, I'm still absolutely starved," He tries to leave an air of humor on his voice but he fails to do so.

And it goes against every fiber of Kenny's being, but he speaks, "Go ahead."

The bite is gently placed along the vein on the inside of his wrist. He barely feels it, in fact he can only tell because of Kyle's bowed head.

He heaves a shaky sigh, "What am I doing?"

Kyle pulls back and Kenny wipes away the blood smudged on his lip, the rosy red hue of his own blood gathers on Kyle's face. The vampire gives a hum, "You don't have to leave," He speaks softly again, how does he keep doing that? Charming Kenny deeper into this pit of conflict.

"I'll be killed, Kyle," Kenny said as he leaned further onto Kyle, "I broke the rules."

"I'll kill them for your safety then, Wendy will shoot them for your safety, Tolkien will burn them for your safety," Kyle promised, "You're part of our town now, you always have been."

"What am I supposed to do, all I've ever fucking done is kill monsters," Kenny said, words spoken quietly.

"You're our farmer now," Kyle answered with.

"I've wanted to kill you for so long, Kyle," Kenny confessed, so much shame rested on them, "I'm not going to though."

Kyle paused.

"I'm sorry,"

The stake is at Kyle's chest again, it falls short again. The display is laughable as Kenny crumbles into Kyle's arms and the vampire just holds him. Rubbing between his shoulder blades as he sobbed.

"I didn't, I failed-" He breaks, he can't even speak.

"You're better now," The words are soft, and affirming, "We won't let them hurt you."

[twst-drabbles]

What would life be like with Malleus in the years later au? You have decided to stay with him, and the two of you watches as your friends grows older. I would like to know your thoughts about his feelings, maybe it's comforting to him that at least you would stay with him for a very long time.

Hmm considering the way I made the reader, I would imagine they become a wanderer, just marking down places they want to go to since they couldn't before on the account of needing to finish their education. Put together a scrapbook filled with photos of places they've been, little notes, stories and doodles relating to said places. Just, taking in the sights and visiting as many of their old friends as possible.

Also hoooo, I ramble here.

I can't imagine them being someone who stays in the palace. They need their own space. And, well, Malleus being Malleus, they'd get that house and quite a bit of land. A nice place, quaint and peaceful. And, of course, it's a place he'd visit quite a bit.

The first death happens and it doesn't really hit. It doesn't feel real, you know? You hear the news and all you can do is slowly feel the passage of time rushing past you. The seconds tick by and it doesn't really hit that so much time had escaped them.

They attend the funeral, of course they have to, and it still doesn't feel real. Age has been crawling over their friends for a while now, but even then it was something one can easily ignore. Aging happens to everyone. And death was going to happen sooner or later. And, rather than confront that thought, they'd thought it be easier to just live in the moment. That's really all they can do to avoid thinking what's eventually going to become their present.

You can assured that they've lived a full life. Their friends have went off and reached the heights they all wanted to reach, have reached them in the time the Prefect was gone. And yet, it feels unfair all the same.

And so, this ex-Prefect goes back to the person that's just as ageless as them, Malleus.

Okay, so I do imagine because Malleus ends up even more embroiled in his kingly duties, that arrogant side of him becomes a little more pronounce. Not in the sense that he actively looks down on you, but in the sense that when he makes a demand, it will be fulfilled quickly due to his rather busy schedule. Free time has become very precious to him and he will want to spend it however he likes. No need to worry though, a gentle reminder will be enough to curb it, this older self is a little more agreeable.

I like to think he does have servants, but they weren't people he hired. Malleus can pretty much take care of everything himself, since he still hasn't hit the magical limit of his potential, but he doesn't say no to those that willingly come in. Oh, keep in mind that Malleus did open the doors of his castle for people to come in and out from. If they want to see, they can, provided they stay away from certain places such as his room and other private quarters. I would imagine he likes to try these kinds of nontraditional things every so often.

And, eventually, these little nontraditional things attracted some odd fae and humans to his castle, who wanted to serve as general cleaners, cooks and other such things as a way of thanking Malleus. And who is Malleus to turn away folks who fought against their fears to face him?

So yeah, the number of servants in his castle have definitely rose. He pays them of course. And you can certainly bet that he leaves his castle every so often to check up on people he hasn't seen in a bit, wanderer that he is. At first he doesn't see much of a point in putting on a disguise, but now he intentionally goes out without one because it always causes people to lose their cool. He really like messing with the public like that every so often.

Hmm, I know people will be disappointed to hear this, but Malleus would highly likely have a fiancee by this point. And I know his finacee isn't going to be the kind of person that will judge or be jealous of the human friend that Malleus keeps close. They very much have a cordial relationship, and they will very much get along with one another since they both have a mutual love and respect for humans, while also cherishing their fae heritage.

Simply put, the fiancee Malleus has will be someone who hold the same believes and aims as him. Someone he can rely on to continue the work he's putting into Briar Valley in the case something were to ever happen to him. They're not in love with one another, but they'd rather not marry anyone else, if that makes sense. You get me? They're not going to divorce. They will have a child eventually, though, that's inevitable.

I just think it would interesting to explore the difference in dynamics These characters have with the ex-Prefect. But also because there are definitely going to be people who have a big problem with this. Viewing this as an "unfaithful" dynamic and what have you. That'll be fun too.

Life with Malleus as time passes by and everyone ages faster than the ex-Prefect is... comforting, as well as lonely, since the Prefect was never made nor raised to know that everyone else will age faster than them. This was something that was suddenly sprang onto them, they were not prepared in the least. It is nice to have someone there who's went through the same thing all the same.

[spacetime1969]

TOAxDC anyone?

I've been a part of the MariBat fandom for years now, and more recently become a part of the BatPham fandom since it grew into a full fandom of it's own.

In all that time I have been sitting on an idea for another crossover with DC that I think has just as much potential to become something entirely its own.

So, allow me to present the idea of Tales of Arcadia x Batman, which I've been affectionate calling the BATHUNTER crossover in my head.

More ramblings and fic recs under the cut.

So, first and foremost:

We have a bat bait, blue eyed, black haired, protagonist with trauma. Comparing this to the other two fandoms we've already hit the ground running.

We also have a reason for them to be in Gotham. At the end of Trollhunters we have Claire and Jim going with the trolls to find a new heartstone in New Jersey. Gotham is in New Jersey.

The trolls traveling across the country and founding New Trollmarket right in the Bat's territory doesn't even require an explanation beyond 'They found the new heartstone under Gotham City.'

The opportunities for identity shenanigans are still just as present as ever. If you stick to the full canon of the Tales of Arcadia universe, sans the time travel reset, then Jim, Claire and possibly Toby are both human and the bats could meet them as human civilians and as vigilantes who go around with glowing face covering armor and the ability to just disappear.

Personally, I'm not a huge fan of canon past the first half of wizards. So I like the idea of Jim using a glamour mask to go to school while being a vigilante in his half troll form. Make the bat's even more confused.

I also feel like the dichotomy between the three rules of trollhunting and Batman's usage of fear as a weapon and no killing rule would be fascinating.

Just:

"Fear heightens your senses. Fear keeps you alive. Arrogance gets you killed."

-vs-

“You prefer to call me Batman. But the reason you can never escape me … is that my name is fear. And I live within you.”

“Always finish the fight.”

-vs-

"Heroes should never kill a villain, no matter the depths of his villainy."

They would probably agree on rule three, though: “When in doubt, always kick them in the gronk-nuts.” Since Batman identifying weakness in both his teammates and villains is a whole thing.

Lastly, the potential for bio-dad aus is fascinating to me. Specifically, not with Bruce as the bio-dad, but with Commissioner Jim Gordon.

For anyone who hasn't happened on Jim Gordon's backstory, allow me to give some context. Jim Gordon's wife was named Barbara Eileen Gordon. They had two children, Barbra Gordon and Jim Gordon Jr. Barbara Eileen divorced Commissioner Gordon because she wanted to get her son out of Gotham.

From what I understand, in canon she keeps the name and eventually moves back to Gotham after her son becomes a serial killer and inmate of Arkham Asylum.

But this is an AU, canon is what ever we want it to be and Jim Lake being the biological kid of Commishionre Gordon and little brother of Barbra Gordon aka Oracle has some real potential in the right author's hands.

Fic Recs:

Loose Lips, by NerdofSpades

Batman wants answers. Jim wants to be left alone, so he can go back to his not so normal life. Too bad those two things aren't at all compatible with each other. At least Jim gets some new friends out of all of this. Probably. Maybe.

One of my favorite fics in general. Jim becomes friends with the Young Justice team while trying to convince Batman that he's 'just a civilian'.

three teenagers are loose in gotham (what will they do), by clayr_of_the_lillies

sometimes you become a vigilante deliberately. sometimes its twitter's fault. aka a tales of arcadia/batman crossover that wouldn't leave my mind.

Very funny and well thought out. I particularly like this interpretation of Gotham's trollmarket and the friendship between the trollhunters and the batfam.

In Their Blood, NerdofSpades

Barbara Lake saw an uncomfortably familiar pattern in the behavior of James Lake Junior. She saw it in almost everything he did these days. She had seen it in her friends growing up. She had lived it herself. She just wasn't sure how to help him, so, instead, she calls in a friend.

Another fun one by NerdofSpades. Barbara, having been Batgirl, recognizes Jim's behavior in herself. It's a shorter one but still a lot of fun

I'm also working on a couple of my own fics set in this crossover, but their still WIP for now