#someone please gif the trophy lift for me

[comphy-and-cozy]

A kiss to distract with Svech please 💚

I have to confess I am very shocked you didn't make me write barzal but I am more than happy to provide with our favorite russian

Prompt: A kiss to distract

Pairing: Andrei Svechnikov x Reader (f)

Word Count: 711

Warnings: Adult themes/content, implied smut, a tiny bit of angst

“...and the Colorado Avalanche have won the Stanley Cup!”

The announcers voices crack with excitement as confetti bursts from the ceiling, the pile of gloves and helmets on the ice as the camera pans to the dog pile celebration. There’s an unmatched euphoria that’s contagious, and it’s hard not to get chills watching anyone win the coveted trophy, even if it’s not the team or players you’d prefer.

Andrei’s eyes are glued to the TV, unable to pull himself away despite the deep hole growing larger in his chest. Part of him wants to turn it off, to not watch another moment of the Avs celebrating something that he yearns for, the other part of him committing the sight to memory as motivation – so he can remember this moment when it’s finally his turn to lift the Cup.

You’re beside him, watching his inner turmoil fester, even more so when Phil Pritchard walks out onto the ice with Lord Stanley, shining brighter than any other accolade or award or achievement. You can practically feel Andrei’s heart sink when Landeskog takes it, the 34.5 pound trophy weightless as he lifts it for the first time. 

“Drei,” you say softly, though he makes no motion to show he heard you, or even remembers you’re there beside him. “Andrei.”

“Hmm?” His eyes don’t leave the screen, though his jaw is now clenched tightly without his knowledge, ticking as he grits his teeth. 

“Maybe we should turn this off?”

“I want to watch it,” he says, only realizing that he’s gripping the edge of the blanket in his fist when he goes to stop your hand from reaching for the remote. 

“Baby, I don’t think we should –”

It’s a dark look sent in your direction that stops your sentence, the glare so unlike him. It’s also what confirms your suspicion that something is wrong – he just doesn’t know it yet, or is too stubborn to admit it. 

So, you do the only thing you know will be a foolproof distraction. At least, you’re pretty sure.

Andrei’s eyes flash when you crawl into his lap, obstructing his view of the TV when you straddle his hips. He’s irritated, huffing in frustration as he leans over, craning his neck to see around you. “Dorogoy, please.”

You ignore him, instead leaning forward to kiss him. He kisses you back, his shoulders relaxing only slightly, before he’s pulled away and trying to see around you again.

It’s your turn to huff, annoyed that he doesn’t seem interested in kissing you – usually one of his favorite activities — still set on torturing himself instead. But you’re determined, not willing to give up yet.

Andrei’s attention snaps to you when your hands tug at the hem of your shirt, pulling it over your head and tossing it behind you. With a smirk, you take his hands, resting loosely on your hips, and place them on your breasts over your lace bralette. 

“I think you have something much more exciting to look at, don’t you?” you ask. The implication is crystal clear, hanging out into the open for him to accept or deny.

In typical boy fashion, all remaining thoughts fly out of his head upon the feeling of your breasts in his hands, this time not fighting it when you lean in to kiss him again. Instead, he lets his hands roam your body, succumbing to the desire you’ve stoked in him, slowly, pulling him away from the certain pain and frustration that comes from watching someone else win what he covets.

You’re all his, though, smiling when he scoops you up into his arms to finish what you started – in the bedroom. It’s a thorough distraction, one full of moans and love bites and red scratch marks on his back that he loves so much, enough to make him completely forget what you were distracting him from in the first place.

It’s only later, much later, when he’s holding you in his arms, feeling your soft skin beneath his fingertips, that he remembers how you got here in the first place. He smiles to himself, because although the disappointment still lingers – will always linger until he gets to touch that trophy himself – he’ll always have you to make him smile.

[rae-raewrites]

How about some headcanons of Arkham Riddler, with reader getting jealous? Just something about seeing him interacting with Ivy, or how Catwoman always calls him Eddie in her sensual tone, it just drives reader crazy with jealousy, thinking that Edward may leave them for someone better or prettier.

Is this just gonna be y’all giving me the best prompts possible? Because I’m in to it! (This one is long but only because I got so much inspo from this so thank you anon!)

Arkham riddler seeing his s/o be jealous

For a flirtatious as ivy can get let’s be honest Selina is gonna be seen as the REAL threat here

It doesn’t help you found out Eddie left out trophies for HER! A whole 35 of them!

A few flirtatious winks and words do nothing good for anyone with their own self doubts.

And yet here you are.

Edward nigma without a doubt is the most powerful man in Gotham despite what people will try to dispute. Brains,money and power. All of it.

Yet he chooses you.

It doesn’t make any sense!

Selina has worked on and off for Eddie for years so they clearly have a mutual understanding.

However that can only go so far especially when you can’t help but clearly give a look of agitation when she stops by to hand deliver Edward his packages.

Your pretty sure she can tell it bothers you but she certainly doesn’t make a fuss about it.

But let’s not act like doesn’t Edward start to notice eventually either.

He’ll be right in the middle of talking with Selina when he starts to notice you basically death glaring her into her soul.

Leads him to some pondering afterwords. Were you really jealous of Kyle? Really? Nonsense! Unless….?

It was a hypothesis.

Something to be tested and he was a man of testing nonconformity

It was a simple “my dear” towards Selina that clearly set you off.

When you rushed out of the room into his office slamming the door behind you apart he couldn’t stop smirking. Selina however was a bit concerned.

“Are they gonna be okay?”

“Nothing I’m not prepared to deal with,now go run along and retrieve that energy cell. I have to go quell my Aphrodite.”

He finds you grumbling at his desk. Green light illuminating your skin

“My my what a fitting color.”

“What?” You sneered out. Dangerously. He was treading a fine line clearly.

“Green. Dear. Your green with all the envy in the world.”

“Over her? Please!”

He’s positively glowing with pride as he sits himself on his desk and lifts your chin up with a finger.

“Oh really? A couple of words of affection had you storming out of the room! What’s wrong my sweet? Not wanting to share Gotham’s smartest?”

Now you were basically forced to admit it.

“Fine! I’m jealous! But she knows what she does……….”

“My ruler of riddles you need to understand your in competition with no one.”

“Prove it.”

In that moment he went to the place he always went i times of vulnerability. His riddles.

“I can break, I can be clogged, I can be attacked, I can be given, I can be kept, I can be crushed, yet I can be whole at the same time. What am I?”

The answer came to you simply but you had to stop yourself for a second.

Oh

“ the heart”

“And my dear you won the fight for mine a while ago. You’re intellect may not be on my level yet but you certainly beat the likes of cat woman by the whole length of miagani ”

[xoteajays]

yessss, please tell me all about rikaine, i love her already !! ( and as i’ve said i think she and my girls lark and star would be besties <3 )

hope you’re doing well, love !! <3

yayyy it's the attention i wanted agsghfsjfjkl so rikaine is her surname, koi is her first name. it's another surname first situation with op. (let lark and koi duet jolly sailor bold so sanji and zoro can collectively lose their minds about it. star and koi 🤝 being hot redhead zoro ships) i'm doing well, thank you! ♡♡

to get the smaller details out of the way: she's a zoro ship, is a half-mermaid, she doesn't have a devil fruit power but does have merfolk abilities, like being a very fast swimmer, breathing underwater, and talking to fish.

okay, so, let's start with her parents. her father is pirate captain rikaine colt. he began his piracy career as a pre-teen, years before gold roger's death. he started out as a powder monkey and eventually worked his way up to captain after he and his crew mutinied against their original captain. to say the least, colt was very charismatic. later, as captain, he met koi's mother, esmarie, a mermaid with a fascination for humans. (esmarie is way more little mermaid coded than koi).

esmarie and colt were never married or anything, but they did have an affection for each other. after koi was born, esmarie was a very hands-off parent, she loved her daughter but loved her freedom more. that didn't bother koi too much since she had her father. colt loved his daughter more than anything. koi probably had the best childhood of all the straw hats tbh. she grew up on - and in the ocean around - her father's ship. just imagine this big pirate dude carrying around a tiny merchild. the crew also adored koi. they rigged up a machine on the side of the ship to lift koi from the water easier; they made a game of throwing her back into the ocean and cheering when she did a flip or a perfect dive. the crew was as much family to koi as they were to colt. they do all try to keep koi out of the pirate stuff though.

all was fine and dandy until koi was about 15. colt's ship was overtaken by the legendarily cruel pirate captain blacktide (real name, lyne tydell). blacktide's own ship was on the way to being totally destroyed after a battle and he intended to take someone else's ship. there was little colt could do when blacktide came aboard and demanded he cede his captaincy; this is because of blacktide's devil fruit, the ubau ubau no mi (or yoink yoink fruit in english), which allows him to take aspects from people and keep them in a physical bottle. when colt initially faltered, one of his crewmates tried to stand up for him and blacktide took his eyes, leaving him completely blind. to protect the rest of his crew, colt handed over his captaincy and ship to blacktide.

of course, there was no time to tell koi any of this and when she came aboard, she was swiftly captured by blacktide. he wanted to keep her as a prize and trophy, as a faux show of wealth to play like the rich people who would spent millions on mermaids. it quickly became obvious how important koi is to the crew though and blacktide decided he could use her as a tool to keep them in line. years later, when koi is closer to 17/18 (maybe older? idk if the la ages are the same as the manga/anime), blacktide discovered rumors of a mutiny amongst the original crew and chose to punish koi to punish the crew; he took her tail. the ubau ubau power is a painful process and koi lists it as one of the worst agonies she's ever experienced. it breaks her father's heart.

colt begs one of his original crewmates, luz, to take koi and free her somewhere far from blacktide's reaches. though initially hesitant, luz eventually agrees and takes koi in the night when everyone else is asleep.

this is where it gets a lil hazy for me. i'm not fully committed to how koi meets the straw hats, but what i have going so far is: luz leaves her on the shores of orange town, it's dark so they don't know that the city is in ruins. by daybreak, koi is discovered and captured by buggy's crew. she plays at being a part of his crew, but he doesn't really have a part for her in his 'show', so she's mainly kept in the back. she was supposed to be keeping an eye on zoro and nami to make sure they don't escape while buggy deals with luffy. she stays hidden from them until she hears cabaji coming and rushes to stop nami from getting caught picking her lock. when zoro, nami and luffy are fighting buggy, she tries to free the orange town citizens but they're too scared to run.

when the straw hats are leaving, she begs asks to come with them. nami and zoro are originally going to say no, but luffy being luffy is of course like 'more the merrier' and lets her come along. as they set off, she explains to them all about her past and luffy is all the more insistent to help her get her tail back.

bonus: blacktide and luz! i cannot find a usable colt fc to save my life.

[cambria-writes]

I proofread this before posting!! Yes that is something I am actually very proud and excited about.

Also jesus christ I had no memory of this thing being so short so I might double update today or tomorrow!

pairing: jane x named reader   word count: 1,316 rating: PG13   warnings: discussion of murders, that’s about it, but please lmk if I missed something!

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𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝕱𝖎𝖛𝖊: ℭ𝔥𝔞𝔯𝔱𝔯𝔢𝔲𝔰𝔢

You lean back in your seat, contemplate the cards. Don't take as much time as you did last night. This feels pretty straightforward. You place your hands, palm down, onto the table. Take a deep breath. Somehow, you don't feel as much pressure. Maybe the ambiance helps.

"A man who was mocked when he was a kid," you begin. You keep your eyes down on the cards. "He was never given the support he needed or wanted. He had the option of looking for a person or people who share his ideologies, but he never did. He slipped into resentment and obsession but..."

Jane leans in closer, elbows on the table, hands clasped in front of him. "But what?"

"It just looks like it was all an accident? Out of, I don't know. Passion?" You look up at Mr Jane and scoot forward in your seat. "Did the first murder look planned or kind of sloppy? My guess is sloppy," you say, drumming your fingers against the white vinyl table. "Didn't look like he wanted to kill anyone, right?"

"It looked improvised, yes," Jane replies. His grin lights up pride in your chest like a bonfire. "Grabbed a dog show trophy and killed the competition."

The flush of pride is quickly replaced with fatigue. You wave down Waitress Mindy for an extra strong cup of coffee before you hit the road again. You still have a ways to go, according to the Generous Waitress. You'd like to stay awake for it. Probably. You'll see.

"There's something I'm curious about, though," you say quietly. Take your hands back, place them in your lap. Do your best to maintain eye contact. Somehow it's harder than it usually is. Jane lifts his chin a little, inviting you to continue. "Why are you humouring me so much? What's your angle? I'm not stupid. I know your disdain for any kind of metaphysical profession."

He points at you. Looks victorious? "Ah, but see, you're not a professional." The remark stings but, well. He isn't exactly wrong. His face takes on a more serious air. "You don't take advantage of other people's willingness and weakness for your own gain." Or get anyone killed, is what you figure he wants to say after that. But doesn't. You understand nonetheless.

"It's not like I wouldn't take money if it was offered," you retort, sip at your coffee. Not scalding, but just barely. It wakes you a little, at least.

"Either way, it's not like you have special powers."

You bristle at that. Jane flags down Waitress Mindy. It isn't like you ever thought about it that much. But having someone outright say that there's nothing special about you or what you do... somehow it doesn't sit quite right.

You almost manage a reply—that's possibly a little too scathin—when his phone rings. You don't pay attention, instead work on putting your cards away neatly in your bag. It doesn't take long, and Mr Jane wraps up his phone call just after you close your messenger bag.

Down the rest of your coffee as fast as you can. The diner's starting to feel a little stifling. Dig out your wallet from a side pocket in your bag, pull out a few tens. Wave down Mindy again and tell her to keep the change, insist on paying for the coffee, at least. She's practically glowing. Probably doesn't get tipped a lot. She needs to get a job around nicer people.

"We're ready to go, yeah?" Jane looks at you in that way again. Makes you feel like a bug pinned to a board. You agree, and return to a temporary Life On The Road.

You spend most of the remaining two hours in silence. Lean the seat back a little, pop in some earbuds. Tune out the rest of the world for a little bit. Unlike your father, at least Mr Jane has the decency not to interrupt you every five minutes. You try not to think about Tommy too much. Distract yourself with fanciful things.

Like trying to figure out how the hell someone becomes a serial killer over show dogs.

After about an hour and a half of quiet riding, pull your earbuds out, unplug them from your phone. Stow it away, turn towards Jane.

"How long has this guy been going around killing show dog owners?"

Barely gives any indication that he hears you. But you see the right corner of his mouth tip up. Alright, well, at least you've got his attention.

"Three years, looks like."

Look back ahead to the road. The first murder looked sloppy, poorly planned. The killer's gotten used to it in the past three years. Chew at your bottom lip. You feel like a five year old in a classroom, but the curiosity gnaws at you.

"How many murders are confirmed to be this guy's work?"

"Eight now, including old Thomas there."

Hum, and think. "Was the first murder just before or after a dog show?"

Jane smiles. Something about it makes you feel oddly proud again.

"A few days after the show we're going to see today," Jane says simply. His tone is so light you might not have thought about it twice if you hadn't been paying attention.

"Wait, where are we going? You never actually told me."

"We're going to pay a visit to the San Luis Obispo Kennel Club. They have a nice event this weekend. Lots of small dogs, so I hear."

"That's just vague enough to shut me up and keep me satisfied," you mutter. Look out the window at your shoulder.

Okay, so, you're going to see the kennel club that Tommy was probably going to. Probably going to see either the murderer or the people who are enabling him. (Or her? You're not entirely sure, but you could probably chalk it up to a gut feeling...) That's actually a deceptively simple plan, provided that all Jane's assumptions are correct.

You're not sure you'd be able to debate whether or not they are, in fact, correct.

Once you actually are in Paso Robles, it doesn't take long to get to the center. There's a fairly decent crowd; it unnerves you about as much as the stuffy diner. There's at least a hundred people milling outside. Most of them either carrying or leading a dog. You don't want to think about the amount of people inside.

"I have a stupid idea." You don't completely close the passenger door to the Citroen. Look to Jane for permission.

"Do tell." Shut the driver door. Leans against the side. "I love crazy ideas."

You look around. Now that you look, there are a lot more people just carrying their dogs in their arms than otherwise. They're good odds, considering how tiny the dogs are.

Take a deep breath, cup your hands around your mouth, and bellow as loudly as you can.

"Peekaboo!"

Mr Jane looks stunned. You can feel your face burning, but you try calling out for the dog one more time. Turn back to him a little sheepish.

"I really thought it would—"

A dog barks rather angrily, someone calls for it somewhere in the crowd. You aren't too preoccupied by the man screaming as you are by the small black and white Havanese rushing at your legs. Jane is more than happy to intercept the man chasing after the dog. You had no idea seeing Peekaboo again would make you feel...

"That's my dog! What's she doing with my dog?"

"Sir, if you could just..."

You scratch Peekaboo behind the ears. Flop her down on her side. Push the fur around a little bit.

"Mister Jane?" You point down at the heart-shaped scar near her right hind leg. "This is her. I remember when she got this scar, no one in the neighborhood slept for days while she was at the vet."

@fucklife-or-me​

Let me know if you want to be tagged for the next update!

[toribookworm22]

Listen. I've had The Tortured Poets Department on loop since it came out. I really really love it and only love it more with each repeat.

So. Here's my First Listen Notes:

Fortnight

What a way to start an album: I was supposed to be sent away. But they forgot to come and get me.

Love the synth rise and the beat drop

Post Malone's voice sounds SO good!

The Tortured Poets Department

Like who uses typewriters anyway 😆

Who else decodes you

No-fucking-body

Oooh the drop... it's so sad and quiet 🥺

My Boy Only Breaks His Favorite Toys

Oooh fun beat

I'm queen of sandcastles he destroys 😲

He saw forever so he smashed it up 😶

Daaaaaamn

Down Bad

Digging this soft music, okay

The chimes!!

THE CHORUS

So fuck you if I can't have us

The bridge instrumentation

OOOOH IT GOES OUT OF TUNE

So Long, London

The choral sound!!!

The ramp up!!!

How much sad did you think I had in me

Oh this is gutwrenching

I'm just mad as hell cause I loved this place

But Daddy I Love Him

No I'm not but you should see your faces 😄

An adult Love Story

It's my own disgrace

I love this

Fresh Out The Slammer

Ooh twangy first beat

Tone shift hello

I did my time 🥺

FLORIDA!!!

THE DRUMS

Ooooh Florence's voice

Somehow it sounds like both of their songs????

Guilty as Sin?

How can I be guilty as sin?

What if the way you hold me actually was holy

Who's Afraid of Little Old Me?

Villain Song! Villain Song!

You don't get to tell me about sad

Sounds old country

If you wanted me dead you should've just said

So I leap from the gallows

WHOS AFRAID OF LITTLE OLD ME (you should be)

What the hell?!?!

Was it a wonder I broke

I was tame I was gentle

Well you should be

The lowering beats!!!

Then I'm fearsome and I'm wretched

I Can Fix Him (No Really I Can)

Love the old country open

Almost ghostly

Your good lord doesn't need to lift a finger

I can handle me a dangerous man (no really I can)

Woah maybe I cant!!!

loml

Aww it's just piano

Who's gonna stop us from waltzing into rekindled flames if we know the steps anyway 🥺

I felt a glow like this never before and never since

Still alive and killing time at the cemetery

Holy ghost you told me I'm the love of your life 😭

She's so sad...

What we thought was for all time was momentary

Mr. Steal your girl then make her cry

Talking rings and talking cradles

Something counterfeit's dead

Oh my good god I want to analyze this my goodness

You're the loss of my life 😭 Taylor no!!

I Can Do It With A Broken Heart

It sounds like pool in the background

Very 80s arcade glitch pop

I'm a real tough kid I can handle my shit

He said. He'd love. Me all. His life.

I'm so depressed I act like it's my birthday 🤣

No, not depression pop!

I can hold my breath; I've been doing it since he left

Taylor I've never understood you more 🤦‍♀️

You know you're good when you can even do it with a broken heart

You know you're good! I'm good

Cause I'm miserable

And nobody even knows!

The Smallest Man Who Ever Lived

The exhale no!

Who the fuck was that guy

They just ghosted you now you know what that's like 😲

I don't even want you back I just want to know

🫢

This is the most sadly disappointed jab of a song I've ever heard

WERE YOU SENT BY SOMEONE

IN 50 YEARS WILL THIS ALL BE DECLASSIFIED

AND ILL SAY GOOD RIDDANCE

I WOULDVE DIED FOR YOUR SINS

YOULL SLIDE INTO INBOXES AND BETWEEN BARS

You kicked out the stage lights but you're still performing

And I'll forget you but I'll never forgive

Hot damn.

Claiming this as mine yes please

The Alchemy

But I'm coming back so strong

Honestly who are we to fight the alchemy

But I'm making a comeback to where I belong

He jokes that it's heroin but this time with an e

Where's the trophy he just comes running to me

Clara Bow

Ooh windup

Yes guitar!!! Love this intro!!

This sounds so indie and small I love it

Soft and comforting

Take the glory give everything

The crown is stained but you're the real thing

Oooh some small town lore

Hello something reminiscent of The Lucky One

Character Song Acquired

It's. Hell. On. Earth. To. Be. Heavenly.

You've got edge she never did

What a way to end that song damn

The Black Dog

Sad piano no

You forgot to turn it off

Her voice sounds so fragile

Until it doesn't!

Old habits die SCREAMING!!!

YESSSSSSSS

okay miss back to soft but slowly growing

Her voice is so earnest

Yes the beats are so good!

Six weeks of breathing clean air

Beat change!!!!!!

Screeeeeeeeeaaaaaammmmiiiiing

And I hope you heeeeeeeeeeaaaaaar it

And I hope it's shitty in The Black Dog

Keep the beat going!!! Yes!!!

I adore this so so much

The last screaming is WHISPERED!!!???! what!??!

Top songs. I'm calling it.

imgonnagetyouback

I hear you 1989 energy

And I'll tell you one thing honey delivery stunning

Ooh okay!

Sparkly alright okay!

Instrumentation is so fun

I'm loving the ultimatums 😆

Even if it's handcuffed I'm LEAVING HERE WITH YOU

pick your poison babe I'm poison either way

Cut the music alright!

The Albatross

Ooooh this is so pretty already!

I love the softness contrasted with the short lines

She's the albatross she is here to destroy you

One less temptress one less dagger to sharpen

And they tried to warn you about me

And I tried to warn you about them!

I'm the life you chose and all these terrible dangers

So cross your thoughtless heart

Chloe or Sam or Sophia or Marcus

Simple instrumentation

Oh but I love the title drop

If you wanna break my cold cold heart just say I loved you the way that you were

If you wanna tear my world apart just say you've always wondered

I changed into goddesses villains and fools

Will that make your memory fade from this scarlet maroon

Cause I wonder

Will I always wonder

How Did It End?

Oooh no I'm scared

The piano is scaring me already

No not oh-oh's

We hereby conduct this post-mordem

We must know... how did it end?

Oh-oh oh-ohhhhhhhh

Her backing vocals are so gorgeous

Lot the game of chance what are the chances

Walking in circles like she was lost

Didn't you hear they called it all off

One gasp then how did it end?

Ooh key change oh no

My beloved ghost and me sitting in a tree d-y-i-n-g

But I still don't know how did it end?

I didnt understand until I did hot damn

So High School

Ooooh the instrumentation sounds so 2000s!!!!

That just soft pop rock energy

Bittersweet 16 suddenly

I love the contrast between her soft airy vocals and her gritty lows

Are you gonna marry kiss or kill me

You know how to bottle I know Aristotle

I feel... like laughing

And in the blink of a crinkling eye

Such a sweet grinning song

Sounds like she's really recapturing something teenage

I Hate It Here

Quick quick (lyrics before music what??)

Tell me something awful like you are a poet

When I was a precocious child

Small town fears

Cause I hate it here

Everyone would look down cause it wasn't fun now seems like it was never even fun back then

Only the gentle survived

I'm made most of the year

This is really really pretty

A fun I was a quietly angry child song

This place made me feel worthless

She sounds timeless

This could actually be a kids movie song with this lullaby like instrumentation

thanK you aIMee

(Her first play on capitalization?)

And I forget the way you made me feel

Screaming fuck you Aimee

Ooh I like the build

Nice build!!! Oooh so fun!

But she used to say she wished you were dead 🫢

I built a legacy that you can't undo

That there wouldn't be this if there hadn't been you

Miss Taylor did you write a whole new bully song for me??? A la Mean???

I don't think you've changed much do I changed your name

Only us two are gonna know is about you

Soft and powerful

Like every kid who came out of bullying with a kinder heart

I Look In People's Windows

Ooh fun instru- wait wait what? That glitch of a noise? Hello?

I'm afflicted by the not knowing

Backing vocals! Fun noise!

The music is sounding a little more strangled okay!

I'm addicted to the if only

Music leaves her isolated when she calls herself weird hmmm subtext there

The Prophecy

Country sings again with the indie guitar

I got cursed like eve got bitten

A lesser of a woman would've lost hope a greater woman would've begged

Ooh the begging is so pretty

Sounds a prayer for real

Feeling like the very last drops of an ink pen

Gathered with a coven round

But even statues crumble if they're made to wait

Spending my last coins so someone will tell me it'll be okay

And said *please*

Cassandra

Oooh follow piano notes

Build some strings okay

When it's burn the bitch they're shrieking

When the truth comes out it's quiet

So they killed Cassandra first

So they killed my cell with snakes I regret to say do you believe me now

What happens if it becomes who you are

So they set my life in flames I'm scared to say do you believe me now

Bloods thick but nothing like a payroll

It's so sad but still powerful like Greek mythology I guess

Ooh but the gravel on "heard"

I think I hear static like fire in the background at the end

Peter

Oooh okay some powerful piano notes alright

Love this instrumentation

Is it something I did

I thought it was just goodbye for now

Said you were gonna grow up then you were gonna come find me

Such a simple melody I love it

We said it was just goodbye for now

And I won't confess that I waited

Cause loves never lost when perspective is earned

Lost to the lost boys chapter of your life

But the woman who waits by the window has turned out the light

The Bolter

Oooooh

Okay I'm here for this alright

Storytelling like folklore!!!

Behind her back her best friends laughed

It's cheery but so devastating my goodness

All her fucking lives passed before her eyes

Oooh ramp up a little with some subtle beats

She's been many places

Yes ramp up

Chariots are waiting

There's a scape in escaping

But she's got the best story

Robin

(In here for all the names okay)

No sad piano!!!

Long note no!!!

You are bloodthirsty (ethereal version)

This is so pretty

The softest battle cry

It's nostalgic power?

We all vowed to keep it from you in sweetness

Is this like you did a good job being sweet now be angry?

You have no room in your dreams for regret

You'll learn to bounce back like you trampoline

This is such a be whatever kind of kid you wanna be

The Manuscript

One note and I'm crying

Love the isolated notes Oh my gosh

Love this end already

Now and then she rereads the manuscript

In the age of him she wished she was 30

Afterwards she only ate kids cereal

She wasn't sure

Okay some growing notes yes! Grow power

The professor said to write what you know

Looking backwards may be the only way to move forward

And at last she knew what the agony had been for

The only that's left is the manuscript

But the story isn't mine anymore

That is a... okay, wait... that's a really really good way to end this album... I need time to digest that actually... hold on...

[cozymoko]

I’m in love with how you write for sasuke as a yandere, would you maybe consider writing for yandere obito? If yes, then can I please request headcanons for yandere obito trying to push a his idea of rin onto his lover/trying to turn them into rin or maybe him seeking someone who has similar qualities as rin? If not then it’s totally fine!

Note: I'm overjoyed that you like my work. This is my second Obito work, I'm thrilled!

🔥 Everything Obito does is for himself, he's a user, everyone in this world can be used to his advantage if he so chooses. If he finds someone with the potential to replace Rin then you will be the replacement. He is brainwashed hence he doesn't recognize the fine line between right and wrong. To him, all his actions are justified.

——"Obito...Did you e-ever really care about...me? " You sob between hiccups, not being able to contain the rivers of tears falling from your eyes.

——"Of course, {Name}, I love you so much. After all," He grinned, lifting your chin so your eyes meet. "I managed to get the best."

🔥 This is so likely just because most of his choices in life were charged by Rin's death. Just having a replacement would send his personality a whole 180°. He'd forget about all his previous motives. If you're exactly like Rin, Obito would want to please you, but also follow Madara's plan. He's torn of course, but it's clear who he'll choose in the end. Brainwashed or not.

🔥 Hypothetically, let's say he found an exact copy of Rin's personality, he'll go crazy. Doing everything to please you, to get praise from you. His tough facade will start to break under your sweetness, your acceptance he's head over heels. A huge con would be how needy he is, his insanity slowly declining below zero every time you leave him. All the gruesome deaths you had to witness just because of his addiction.

——"Obito," You whimpered into his chest, your rage beginning to crack through your neutral voice. "What–What have you done?!" You were essentially trembling as you watched the scene in horror. Tears brimming in your eyes at the numerous bodies piled at your feet.

——"Shh, it's okay. You worry too much." He cooed, stroking your back, making a weak attempt in shielding your eyes. Though you were in no way worried about him, in no way possible.

🔥 Feels no remorse in turning you into his perfect partner, he's knows it'll take a bit but it'll all be worth it. The continuous pushing may begin to overwhelm you, perhaps making you feel as though you're not good enough. But I can assure you, you are, in no way does Obito ever mistake you for Rin. Therefore there's no need to run away! It's not like you have a choice anyway.

🔥 If he could have it his way he'd look for someone just like Rin, with the unmatched compassion and grace she holds. Just somebody with her qualities to fill the deserted hole he calls his heart once again. Though he does not object to a few differences between you two, you are your own person after all.

——"Hi Obito, good morning! Have you eaten today?" You smiled, holding your hands behind your back.

——He strolled towards you, snatching you into his arms, bathing in your scent. If you weren't listening you probably would have heard his response. A short, simple, "Yes."

🔥 Obito is obsessed with the idea of you, to looks to personality. You can do no wrong in his eyes, you're perfection. You have him with every word, with every caress on his partially corrupt face. If you tried hard enough you may be able to take her position. Well, If you have that much dedication, after all, you'd need a lot of it.

🔥 After being so long without proper affection it's hard to function without you by his side. Obito feels like a kid again, his only motivation only being you by his side, cheering him on. You're his after so much pain and suffering! You're his trophy, his biggest accomplishment and no one can overthrow that.

——"Rin...RIN...RIN! Are you proud of me Rin?! I did this for you, I've brought you back. You're even more beautiful than before...now you're {Name}...my lovely {Name}."

[beskarberry]

Silver and Steel

Bargaining with Beskar, Chapter 2 (The Mandalorian x f!reader)

It was then you noticed the open wall next to you. The steel panel was slid open to reveal a vault packed corner to corner with more firepower than you had ever seen in one place. Your eyes roamed from blaster to rifle to flamethrower, noticing that not all of them were made for five fingered hands. This wasn't just an armory, it was a trophy case.

Rating: Explicit

Word count: 7.5k

Content warnings: ALOT. Descriptions of violence (a little spicier than canon) blood mention, near death experiences, hurt/COMFORT, fluff, smut exhaustion sex, top!reader.

A/N: I hope y’all enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it but yeah PLEASE READ THOSE CONTENT WARNINGS!! It all works out ok in the end! Also good chunks of this was inspired by a particular filk song called Call the Navigator which I’ll link in the replies so the external link doesn’t ef up my post.

<-Previous Next->

"Med pack... junk....junk....spotchka?....is that all you've got?"

You were bent over a deep supply crate, your legs barely touching the ground while you dug through what you had hoped would be the food stock. There were several banged up tins of rations and a handful of miscellaneous junk, but nothing that looked real food. You were clean and dry after your shower, but the energy that had been spent in this very supply room just an hour or so earlier had to be replenished. "Where’s the rest of it?"

The silence coming from the cockpit was expected, but still frustrating. With a huff you grabbed two food tins and made your way through the old ship towards the ladder. At the top though a small antechamber you found your new comrade seated in the pilot chair, fussing with the buttons on the console. On either side and slightly behind his chair were two other passenger seats, though the one on his left was missing a good deal of padding. The cockpit was poorly lit save for the lighted console and the dusty starlight overhead. Though you were in the air, you could tell you were still on Tatooine. Hooray. Why are we still here? The great Dune Sea stretched out on all sides, sparsely dotted with sand people villages, but you couldn’t see any of the large space ports such as Mos Eisley or Mos Espa. In the ships’ darkness you couldn't tell what the lumpy thing was in the other chair, probably blankets or laundry. You went to toss it off the seat when a pair of huge black orbs peeped out from the heap of fabric.

"The fuck is THAT?!" You rocketed backwards, dropping the food tins in the process. The bug eyed creature made a soft cooing noise and lifted the rest of the blanket off itself, allowing two gigantic green ears to pop into view. It didn't look like a threat, in fact it looked kinda cute, but you knew it could still be dangerous. A pair of stubby three-fingered hands made grabby motions at you, the little creature giggling at your bewildered face. " Where'd you find this thing, is it some kind of pet?"

"He's not a pet." Finished fiddling with the console, Mando turned in his chair to readjust the blanket that had slumped off of the small beastie. It squealed happily and wiggled in its comfy cocoon before noticing the food tins that were still on the floor. He pointed the tiniest claw at them and chirped at you, demanding to be fed. "You'd better give him one of those before he gets mad."

It took you a moment to process what he said before scooping one of the tins off the floor, peeling back the lid and placing the dish in the seat next to the little thing. He greedily scooped the mystery mash into his tiny toothy mouth, gibbering between bites. You picked the remaining tin off the floor and leaned against the door frame, watching it happily chow down.

"If it's not a pet then what is it?"

"He's my..." the Mandalorian paused, fishing for the right words to say, "...he is my child."

That was not at all the answer you expected, if he had said emotional support gremlin you would have been less confused. The baby was still making a mess of his dinner, almost dropping his plate before Mando snatched it and set it carefully back in his lap. You had seen first hand that there was a human under all that metal plating, and your tired brain fizzled trying to make the connection between the two very different beings. Mando could tell by your puzzled face that he had some explaining to do.

He told you the tale of how he had been charged to bring the baby in as a high credit bounty, but after he used the reward to get new armor he went back and stole the child away from its captors. He talked about the Mandalorian concept of a 'foundling' and that he himself was one too. At some point you had popped your food tin open and started eating, though you were so captivated by his story that you couldn't remember doing so. When he'd finished you set your empty dish on the busted chair and gently held your hand out for the child to grab with one mush covered paw, who babbled excitedly at his new friend.

Behind you his parental guardian was rigid, ready to take you out if you made one wrong move against his precious cargo. Though he had been the one to steal you away and forgo freezing you in carbonite he still didn’t exactly trust you, your reputation as a hunter-killer was what had driven your bounty so high. He knew you were disarmed, but what else could you be capable of? However, you weren't paying mama-hen Mando any mind. Instead you let the baby play with your hand a bit before he returned to his food. You decided that the only place left to sit was on the floor. Squished into the tiny space between the passenger and pilot seats was cramped, but it gave you a fantastic view out the rounded transperisteel window into the vastness of the night sky.

“Your story sounds awful familiar.” You turned your attention to the metal clad man, watching him fidget with the steering controls. “You abandoned a guild reward for anothers wellbeing, like I did. Someone that didn’t deserve to be dragged back in cuffs. Is that why you picked up the puck on me? Some kind of kindred spirit something or other?”

“We’re nothing alike.” He was watching out the window, focused on flying the ship to unknown destinations, but he was bouncing the leg farthest away from you. So when the cogwheels turn in your head, the machine moves somewhere else. If you hadn’t experienced his human body first hand you could have easily convinced yourself he was a droid.

“Now that’s not true. You told the guild to get fucked because your moral compass was pointing the other way. I didn't just let that quarry go y'know? It was more than that. There was... there was someone she had to get back to. And the New Republic was just gonna lock her ass up and for what? It wasn't right." You remembered that Togruta woman, pointing a blaster at you with tears in her eyes and her belly swollen with a child that did not belong to the man she was being forced to marry. A few thousand credits weren’t worth another child being made an orphan, and you gave her your ship to escape in while you led hunters on a wild-bantha chase away from her. You knew it drove the guild insane but you wouldn’t have it any other way. A tiny green foot poked itself out from under the blankets by your head, bringing you out of your reverie. On reflex you tucked it back into the safety of his blankies.

Though you thankfully didn’t remember much of your early childhood, you knew you had come from Corellia. You didn’t know if you had parents or siblings, but there had been many other young street urchins in your alley behind the shipyard, and all you had then were each other. You never planned on having any kids yourself, but they were still something to be protected. At all costs, if necessary. “I’m guessing this little dude is happy with that decision.”

Mando had begun to take the ship closer to the ground, it was almost totally dark outside but you could see on the radar there was a large mountainous formation up ahead. Carefully, he landed the beat up craft on a sturdy outcropping of rocks, kicking up whirlwinds of dust and sand. Far out over the sand you could see a collection of lumpy looking ruins that were slowly succumbing to the march of the dunes. You guessed this was where your quarry was hiding out.

The baby was starting to get sleepy, his huge eyes disappearing slowly as the weight of his eyelids became too much. His little head rolled forward, threatening to toss him off his seat. Your big mean bounty hunter heart couldn’t take it, so you scrambled to your feet and scooped the baby up in your arms, sitting down in his seat to get him situated in your lap. He fussed and squirmed a bit, but you had learned a no-fail trick from the Corellian ship builders that would often help to sneak orphaned children onto their ships and off that skughole of a planet towards a better life. Many years ago they had done the same for you.

“Oh, I have sailed the midnight sea from Hoth to Arvala-5.

Seen the Cloudshape Falls of Alderaan, met rocks that were alive.

But soon I came to realize as world to world I roamed,

That nowhere in the galaxy could really be my home.”

The songs you knew were often sang by whole crews of starship sailors, loud enough to shake their durasteel walls, but you dropped your voice low and soft to turn the star-shanty into a lullaby. The baby was watching you with glittering eyes, he had stopped his wiggling and curled up tightly against your chest.

“So call the navigator, set the course and go!

We've stars and planets to explore, my wild heart tells me so.

Beneath the metal decking I can hear the engine sigh

And all I need is a mighty ship and a staaaa-aarr to guide her by”

A tiny yawn betrayed his wondrous eyes, and he gave up and closed them shut, rubbing his little hands on his face. You lowered your voice to almost a whisper.

“I've seen a million beauties and I've known a million fears,

And life is what I've found between the laughter and the tears.

Still I will sail the last frontier through worlds both tame and wild,

And marvel at their strangeness with the wonder of a child”

Soft snores were your only applause, the baby having drifted off mid stanza. You hummed a few more lines of the song to be sure he was asleep. The cockpit was as dark as the surrounding sky, but the glint of silver caught your attention. Starlight reflected off the beskar plates in a way that made the black of his visor seem darker than the heart of a collapsed star, and just as deadly. The Mandalorian was watching you intently, completely motionless.

The precious moment with the baby had made you very forgetful of the dangerous situation you were actually in. You had been captured, you were this man’s prisoner and yet here you were all cozy in the chair with his adopted son in your lap. You glared back at him, matching his fierce gaze when the little green bundle moved to get more comfortable, one tiny hand catching claws in the top you were wearing; a tunic that did not belong to you.

“Here, you take him then.” Your voice was hushed so as not to wake the child, and you raised him up gently to try and unhook him from your shirt. Immediately there were two gloved hands coming to lift the baby off of your lap. He was a monolith of leather and metal, but the way he pulled his son in close was so gentle that all the ferocity of his profession dissipated like mist. Mando carefully tucked the blanket under the sleeping little baby and wrapped him up tight before slowly turning away from you and the flight deck to head down the ladder in total silence, leaving you alone in the dark.

You watched him go, the top of his shiny silver head disappearing into the floor. Without the sounds of life in the cockpit the quiet of the night weighed heavy on your ears. He still hadn’t told you why he had kept you out of the carbonite, all you had done was let him use you as his personal play-thing... and maybe murder off some of his bounty hunting competition, but that wasn’t much to go off of. You had done worse for much less. Put your skills to better use, that’s what he had said. Absently you toyed with the end of your sleeve, no, not your sleeve. His sleeve.

That was another thing, what reason did he have to show you hospitality when his first interaction with you had been so violent? Binding you and marching your ass through the desert after he had fucking shot you. Your escape plan had almost worked, ha! All you would’ve had to do is tire him out and run but that had backfired entirely. The apex of your thighs still thrummed with sensation, warm and blissful. Though you’d had lovers in the past you usually didn’t still feel them so deeply afterwards. The smell of the fresher soap still clung to your body and clothes. Clutching at the collar of your sweater you pulled it to your face and breathed deep, letting the heady scent of it fill your lungs.

“Let’s go. We have work to do.” The modulated voice coming from the ladder startled you from your guilty indulgence and sprang you to your feet, but the source of the voice was already back down the ladder. You sheepishly followed suit.

“You plan on telling me what we’re up to exactly?” Down below the Mandalorian was loading himself with ammunition, each and every slot on his many bandoliers was packed to the brim with charges. His pulse rifle was slung over one shoulder, clanking up against a new piece of equipment you hadn’t seen before. Some kind of jet pack maybe.

“I have two bounties to catch on Tatooine. One of them conveniently fell into a sarlacc pit. The other one's hiding out down there." A bounty fob blinked red in his hand; quick flashes indicated that the target was close by. “If you help me with this, you’re off the hook. I’ll tell Karga you’re dead and the guild will stop sending hunters after you. But-” He turned to face you, he was holding your beat-up old back pack by one ratty leather strap. "If for one second I think you'll turn against me, I'll take the half credits for your corpse."

"You're one to talk!" You hissed, storming up to the gunslinger with the ferocity of a lothcat. "You kidnapped me! I didn't ask to be here."

The man in question didn't budge under your verbal assault. "Do we have a deal or not?"

He forced your backpack into your arms to accentuate his point. You ripped it from his grasp and stormed to the other side of the cabin. Everything was still inside; a pack of bacta patches, a few mementos, three busted tracking fobs and some blaster charges. Speaking of blaster-

"Where’s my gun, Mando?" Your question was answered when you turned back to face him. He was holding it by its barrel, extending the grip towards you. You met his visor with contempt, but took the old blaster from him carefully as not to cause a misfire. It would be nice to not be on the run from a guild you had pledged your loyal services to for so many years, that now wanted you delivered back to them in carbonite; and you knew that Karga would trust his favorite hunter. The life of a moisture farmer wasn’t what you dreamed of when you escaped Corellia. Fuck that. "Yeah, it's a deal. One hunt and I'm gone."

It was then you noticed the open wall next to you. The steel panel was slid open to reveal a vault packed corner to corner with more firepower than you had ever seen in one place. Your eyes roamed from blaster to rifle to flamethrower, noticing that not all of them were made for five fingered hands. This wasn't just an armory, it was a trophy case.

If he didn't want you to ogle his wares he should have closed the panel, but instead he joined you at the wall, picking up some extra plasma cartridges and a vibroblade with a curved handle, which he pushed into your hands. "Will that be enough?"

Either you trust me or you don't, pick a side, tin can. You didn't answer him right away, opting to pull a chest holster and another couple of blasters down from the wall. You cinched the holsters tight and tucked a blaster in on either side, slung a disruptor over your back and stuffed the knife in your boot. Once you had everything in place you stuck your fists on your hips like a superhero with a confidant nod. "Yeah, that should be good."

Mando was watching you with intensity, his visor going over each of your weapon choices. He tugged on your holsters’ cross straps to make sure they were secured. You rolled your eyes at him, "I know how to dress myself, sir."

No answer. Typical. He stopped fussing with your straps and turned back to the wall, selecting a heavy multi-ammo bandolier. He stepped closer to you, wrapping both arms around your waist to fit the belt in place on your hips. You tried to convince yourself that it was the cool beskar of his chest plate pressed up against you that sent a shiver down your spine. The physical contact was over as quickly as it had been initiated, and then he was back in the vault fishing out the tiny silver explosives that fit neatly into the circular latches on either side of your belt, handing them to you without a word. Finished with his selection he pressed a few buttons on his vambrace, one to slide the armory shut and another to summon an egg-shaped hover crib to float to his side. Inside its shell the child was sound asleep, a heart-melting smile on his tiny little face. As adorable as he was, you furrowed your brow in confusion.

“Is he coming too?”

“Where I go, he goes.” Mando said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world. He strode back to the supply crate you had been digging through earlier and packed a handful of rations into a bag for the journey through the dunes. Cool desert air gusted into the stuffy cabin as the access ramp fell open, and the three of you headed out into the darkness of Tatooine.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Your dreams were hazy and feverish, shots of blaster fire flickered through the fog from unknown assailants. The smell of blood and blast plasma strong in your nose even while unconscious. You saw the sneering face of a Twi’lek twist in agony and purple blood painted his face before he winked out of existence, replaced in your mindscape with bloody hands. Your hands. Then there was cold beskar on your cheek and strong arms hauling you from the carnage. Harsh wind in your ears and the ground spiraling away beneath you. The howling wind so loud you couldn't hear the questions being barked in your face. Pain, the smell of burning skin, then nothing. You felt objects moving frantically nearby, and something soft and green was pressing into your ribs. Your eyes, heavy as they were, fluttered open to see two huge black orbs staring up from your side where bright red blood was staining the sheets under you. Is that ... my blood?

“Hey green bean...what’cha up to?” Your voice was hoarse and weak, scratching its way out reluctantly past chapped lips. Talking made your head pound, you reached up to cradle your aching skull when two leather tipped hands caught yours and held them steady.

“Easy... Don’t move too much. Please.” Your hands were gently set back down at your sides, shooting pain up your arms. A large black and silver body was hunched beside you, frantically sticking bacta patches to your skin.

“Mand...do? What…what happened?” Your voice was barely a whisper, so faint the recycled air of the cabin threatened to whisk it away.

“You got the bastard, but that fucking Twi' managed to get a shot off in your gut point blank before he went down. You shouldn't have survived that but you did.” Is that a compliment? He was wrapping a long gauze bandage around your arm, fixing the bacta patches in place so they could do their thing. It hurt, but not as much as you thought it should have. Down by your side the child had rolled into you face first, passed out cold next to an emergency cauterizer. Mando nodded at his sleeping son, “And if it wasn’t for him, you’d be dead for sure.” 

The baby? How is he involved with this? Thoughts echoed loudly in your skull, and you decided that thinky time was over. The little guy had the right idea, you should sleep now, embrace the comfort of the dark behind your eyes, let it swallow you whole.

“Hey hey hey! Not yet. Stay with me, ok? You need to drink something. Here.” An armored hand slid under your head, urging you to sit up just enough to take a drink out of the metal canteen pressed against your lips. “You need to stay awake, just for a little while.” Cool water graced your dry mouth and dripped onto your chin. Embarrassed by your mess you tried to wipe the droplets away but once again your arms were halted in place. A rough piece of fabric dabbed at your face.

“I’m not a baby, Mando. I can take care of myself.” The creeping sting of blast-burn that still scalded your skin told you that might not be true. The bacta was just starting to seep into your bloodstream, but it would take some time to work its magic.

“I know that. I was with you down there in the fray. A rancor would have been less terrifying to face than you. But right now I need you to hold still.”

Another compliment? Or was that sarcasm? You’re losing your edge, tin man. You tried to roll your eyes but the effort made your head spin; you glanced around the cabin, trying to avoid meeting the visor that was pinning you to the cot. Strewn about the floor of the ship was what was left of your holsters and weapons, splattered with red and purple blood. You couldn’t be sure, but it looked like one belt had been blasted to smithereens, torn strips of leather the only indication it had been there at all. Farther away you saw a dark block in the carbonite freezer. The Twi’lek from your nightmare was frozen solid, though from his limp posture you guessed he had stopped moving long before he was put in the chamber. One of his long lekku had been cut clean off, and even in carbonite you could see the wound was fresh. Something long and curved stuck victoriously out of the center of his chest. Your vibroblade, lodged to the hilt in his sternum.

Mando was still kneeling on the floor by your side, and though you couldn’t see his face his hunched shoulders gave you the feeling that he was distraught. He still had your head resting in his palm, his thumb absently toying with your hair. Maybe it was the bacta running through your system that made you start to feel warm and gooey on the inside, but the sensation of his hand on your scalp felt... nice. Nice to be touched in a way that wasn't just for survival. Though you had already felt his hands on your body this was something else entirely. Sincere. Maybe it was just the first time somebody near you wasn't trying to kill or capture you. You foolish girl, you've already been captured. Are you so lonely that a gentle touch makes you melt? Maybe it's you that's losing your edge.

"You should have left me for dead, cashed in on that half credit reward."

"That is not The Way." His mantra was rehearsed, spoken as easily as he drew breath, but you could hear the exhaustion in his voice.

“Well... thank you for not letting me bleed out.” You could see the top of the baby's green little noggin still curled up against your side, though the part of your ribs he was leaning on didn’t have a single mark. You looked for the blast wound that Mando was supposedly talking about, but aside from a handful of plasma burns your skin was smooth and healthy; the pool of dried blood under you was the only indication anything had been there at all. What kind of mando magic is that? And what did he mean about the child? Your first thought was how disappointed you were there wouldn’t be a good scar. Your second was realizing your top was missing. Shreds of it were still on your shoulders, but the front had been ripped off completely to get to your vanished wounds. Mando seemed like he didn’t even care, he had been so focused on patching you up that the idea of modesty was thrown out the window, but you couldn’t help teasing him. “There’s not a scratch on me, Mando. You just wanted me topless, didn’t you?”

His thumb on your scalp froze, his visor going from your face to your chest with rapid snaps. Without letting your head drop he used his other hand to tear his cloak from his back and throw it over you and the sleeping baby. “Better?”

Party pooper. “Yes, thank you.” Why is he being so nice? He must have ulterior motives, right? Why keep me alive if not to cash in on that bounty? You decided to push his buttons some more. “This bed sucks. Is this why you're so crotchety? Because you sleep on this Maker-forsaken thing? It’s making my back hurt.”

The cot you were on was spartan at best, more of a cloth covered bucket than a bed. It was recessed into the wall opposite of the armory, bits of machinery and droid parts hanging over the space above you. There wasn’t much of a gap between your head and the durasteel plating of the ship’s hull. Your teasing was rewarded with a long, tired sigh. The hand that cushioned your head moved down to your shoulders, pushing on you so that you sat up straight. You scooped the baby off of your side and into your arms, trying to ignore the dried blood from your wounds that stained the sheets before swaddling the sleeping bean in his father’s cloak. The metal man rose from the floor, letting go of you just long enough to remove his cross-belts and unlatch his chest plate, setting them on the floor with a dull thunk. He squished himself between the wall and your back, his dorsal plate scraping loudly without its cape. He scooched one armored leg around you until it was between your hip and the wall on your side, pulling you into his lap and turning his whole body into a pillow, letting your torso rest on his. He was used to the sharp metal bed frame, but that didn’t mean you should be subjected to it.

“Is this ok?”

You could only nod, your cheeks flushing red with a mix of emotions. It was more than ok, his formidable body was warm and comfortable. His arms wrapped around your waist, helping to support not only you but also his foundling. The spice of him was strong now with him on your back, worn leather and metal and that damn fresher soap that was making a fool out of you. Underneath his steady breathing the sound of something rhythmic caught your attention, it was quick and faint, but unmistakably the sound of his heartbeat. His heart is racing. Listen to that engine purr.

Behind you a man with a name you may never know watched your chest slowly rise and fall with each breath, not with lust but something unfamiliar though not unwelcome. He could hear his heartbeat pounding in his ears, whether from the ordeal of keeping you alive or the fact that you were in his arms again he couldn't be sure. He sighed, trying to convince himself to calm down, but the deep breath he took only flooded his senses with the essence of you, threatening to melt the beskar off his head with the heat rushing to his face. He couldn't help the way his fingers traced over your skin, careful not to undo any of the bacta patches. He jumped slightly when your hands found his, but the weight of the child still in your arms made it difficult to reach your fingers. The glove you were touching was suddenly empty, and a bare hand snaked out from under the cloak that kept you modest. With the press of a button the child’s pram floated its way over to you from the supply crates. The baby’s adopted father carefully lifted the sleeping creature off your lap and into his hover crib, another button press on the vambrace and the shield door slid closed.

His hand returned to the safety of the cloak, pulling the other glove off before finding your fingers again. His skin was so warm you couldn't help but imagine his hands somewhere more intimate. Evil, evil bacta... Maybe you wouldn't have to.

"I should thank you properly." It was impossible to hide the tiredness of your voice, but he was close enough you only needed to whisper. His grasp tightened around you, your once plush pillow was now a rigid wall of muscle.

"You should go to sleep." the sound of his baritone words so close to your ear made your skin prickle. Too late for that. Slowly you guided his hand down your belly until your tangled hands bumped into your belt line. A low growl rumbled out of the modulator.  “Cyar'ika... you need to rest."

The alien term of endearment made you hum, but you ignored his words of warning and pushed his hand under the tough fabric till his fingertips found your heat, both of you gasping softly at first contact. His free hand fumbled with your button, and after some difficulty you undid it for him along with the zipper. With space to work, with his wrist moved freely, lazily rolling a calloused fingertip against your clit; remembering his lesson from the first time he experienced your body, his touch was light as a feather.

There wasn’t much you could do for him in the position you were in, so you leaned back against him and relaxed, letting him enjoy you at his own pace. The bottom of his helmet was pressed into the crook of your neck, and though it was sharp you could feel something warm and soft underneath it. So there is a real man under there. Scruffy stubble brushed at your skin and sent goosebumps down your chest. Under the beskar his eyes followed the prickling trail that lead under the tattered cloak you still wore to your breasts, watching the way the fabric pointed where your nipples grew hard for him. His other hand couldn’t resist finding its way to your pert peaks, rolling them between his fingers in that way he knew flushed you with heat. Soft gasps rewarded his ears as he worked at your breast and clit, rubbing them in tandem. Your hips rolled into one hand and your back arched into the other, urging him to help you build your climax. He obliged, adding a second finger to pinch your clit softly between strong digits until you fell apart around him.

The pressure that was building behind you and pressing into your spine told you that if you wanted more from him you would have to give him a better angle. You started to get up, but the hands on your sensitive spots held you in place.

“What about your injuries? I don’t want to hurt you.” What injuries? There’s nothing left! His voice was filled with sincerity, a far cry from your first encounter. You didn’t answer him, instead you found each of his hands and squeezed them with a hum, asking him to trust that the bacta had set in and made you comfortable enough to move from your impromptu med bay. He slid his fingers out from your burning core, dragging the wetness from your cunt over your skin until his palms were on your back, helping to push you up off of him. The teeny tiny bed frame made it difficult to spin yourself around until you were facing him, and even more difficult to kick your pants off as you passed over top of him, but he never took his hands away from you to keep you steady until you were seated in his lap.

Straddling his waist you rolled your hips over where his cock was hidden from you, making him shudder under your legs. His arms glided from your knees to your hips, languidly making their way up your sides and past your breasts to the last remaining tatters of the black knit sweater he had allowed you to wear. Hooking a thumb under its ruined edges, he slid it up over your arms and cast it away into the darkness of the ship. His hands went right back to working at your breasts, massaging them like dough in time with your grinding hips. You took a moment to admire how he looked underneath you, his remaining armor glinting in the hazy ship light as his hands searched for every sensitive inch of your chest. You knew from legend that his helmet could never be removed in front of you, but you’d never heard anything about the rest of his clothes. Where his chest plate had been was a strappy flak jacket dotted with magnetic fasteners. Your hands went slowly to the first clasp, and the hands that were so indulged in you froze, his body stiff between your legs.

“Is this ok?” The irony of you repeating his question from earlier back to him made your lips turn in a sly smile. 

“Y-yes.” His voice was nearly imperceptible, and you realized that he was shaking. You looked to his visor, watching him nod in consent before you continued. He dropped his hands to your hips, pulling down on your thighs and rutting up into you while you busied yourself with the complicated under armor until it fell away at his sides, revealing a pair of suspenders and an identical black knit tunic as the one that had been shredded off of you. You didn’t have the energy to peel every article of clothing off of him, so this would have to do. Without his cloak bunched around his shoulders you were able to see the flesh of his throat, so warm and inviting that you wanted to sink your teeth into it.

You bent down to nibble at the exposed skin, and the filthy moan that rattled out of the helmet sent shivers down your spine. The taste of him was exquisite, better than you could have imagined under all that fabric and leather. The overwhelming cocktail of his scent straight from the source made you bold. You kissed your way around the edge of his helmet where the metal met his skin until you found his pulse point and made good on your desires. His body convulsed when you bit down, sucking at the tender skin until you left blooming marks that would be there for days.

“Cyar'ika... Please...“ There was that word again, you didn’t know what it meant but the way he breathed it like a prayer felt like warm honey in your belly. Releasing his tormented neck you ran your hands down his broad chest until your thumbs bumped the leather suspenders that lead you down to his waist line where you were able to tug the edge of his shirt free, giving you a delicious window of his tummy; well-muscled and dusted with dark brown hair. 

“What’s wrong, tin man? Nobody ever touch you like this before?” He was still shaking while you ran your hands under the edge of his shirt and through the soft treasure trail of fuzz from the top of his belt line to the bottom of his ribs. He couldn’t answer you, his breath caught in his throat at the sensation of your hands on his skin, but you were starting to put the pieces of his puzzle together. No, probably not.

You decided not to torture him any longer. The fabric of his pants was nearly stretched to capacity and wet with your slick. You had to stretch one leg out onto the floor to get enough of a footing to lift yourself high enough off him that you could free him from the canvas prison. His cock nearly burst out of its confines, and your face flushed red at the sight of him standing proudly at attention, twitching in your hands with a flood of shimmering precum made just for you.

His chest was heaving, ragged breaths forcing their way out of his modulator before you’d even taken his length. You used your hips to notch him at your entrance and his grip on your thighs clenched like a steel trap. Slowly you lowered yourself onto him, letting him fill you until you were stretched wide. Your eyes met his visor, though from the way it was tilted you knew he was watching himself disappear into you. His arms wrapped tightly under your ass as he thrust into you hard enough that he lifted you off the cot, quickly scooting both your bodies down the bed until he was flat on his back. You tried to stay upright, but his pounding soon had your head spinning until you were falling forward into his chest, digging your arms around his shoulders in a way you were becoming familiar with. Your hands found their way to the back of his helmet to where his hair line started, sneaking a few fingers under the metal edge to tangle in his curls. The Mandalorian’s hands were on your waist, holding you in place while he rocketed up into you, filling the ships cabin with the sound of wet slaps. His thick cock hit different from this angle, grinding up against the sweet spot deep inside you with each rut until you started seeing stars behind your eyes. He could feel you building up around him and he quickened his pace until you were gasping his name.

“M-mando! I... I’m gonna....” Your muscles coiled with heat until you burst, your sweet cunt fluttering around his still pumping cock until he went cascading over the edge of ecstasy with you, his helmet vibrating with a guttural roar. His feverish body shook, giving you a few short thrusts to milk the cum from his cock until it spilled out from where he was lost inside you.

His shaky arms held onto you so tightly, as if you would blast away into space if he let go. The endorphins flooding his head made him want to pour his heart out and tell you everything, bare himself in body and soul for the first time in his life. He wanted to tell you how nice you had looked in his clothes, how the loose knit fabric draped over your breasts was a work of art; even more so when you were standing before him armed to the teeth in his hunting trophies. How seeing you slice that fucking Twi’lek to ribbons was more graceful than any ballet. The sight of the bloody hole that had been burned into your side had made his skin crawl. Mando wasn’t ready to explain the child’s healing powers, he barely understood them himself; but if it wasn’t for the baby he would have been burying your corpse instead of tending your wounds. Instead of experiencing your living body like he was now.

His heart fluttered at the thought of his foundling healing you with his baby sorcerer magic, his tiny green paws pushed on your side where the blood was spilling from your wound. The thought of you dying for his bounty made him sick, but pride flushed the sensation away when he thought back to that first day with you up in the flight deck. How when his baby boy was restless that you acted, not with malice but with tenderness and care. He'd never wanted to rip his helmet off faster in all his days than when you sang his son a lullaby, the sweet tune of it filtering through his sensory equipment, and he longed to hear it as it was meant to be. In that moment he had been entranced, but the fierce glare of his visor had made you feel threatened. He didn't want that. He wanted to make you feel safe. The same way you had made his child feel, the same way you made him feel now. Like the galaxy itself couldn’t tear you from him.

But the ugly truth was that soon it would all end when you both went your separate ways. All the feelings he wanted to confess to you died in his mouth, leaving a bitter taste that brought him back to reality. You still straddled his waist, and though the blood had long since left his cock it still sat neatly in your heat, letting him feel your gentle heartbeat around him. Carefully he pulled himself free from the apex of your thighs and rolled you both sideways onto the unforgiving cot, letting gravity shuffle you down until you were nestled in the crook of his arm. He couldn’t help brushing a stray lock of hair from your face, meeting your half lidded eyes with his own behind the visor.

“I don’t think I can get to the fresher this time.” Your voice was barely a whisper, and the edges of sleep crept unbidden to your eyes; the traumatic activities of the day finally winning over your endurance. “You’re probably going to have to burn these sheets.”

Mando hummed with indifference, though for you he would burn all of Tatooine down if you asked. All the lovely thoughts that had danced through his mind came rolling through again, haloed in the warm light of afterglow. Only one made its way past his lips, sneaking out of the helmets’ modulator like a prayer.

“How does the song end?”

“Mmm?” You were so close to sleep, so cozy and full of cum that you knew would be a fun mess for morning-you to clean up. You wracked your brain trying to remember what the hell he was talking about. The star-shanty? “Why, do you need a lullaby too?”

“N-no. Just curious. When you leave, my foundling might ask me about it.” Liar. The calloused hand gliding up and down your spine brought the original contract you made with him ringing through your skull. One hunt and I’m gone.

“Leave? I’m not going anywhere until I see you tell Karga face to face that I’m rotting in a sarlacc pit. No take-backs. That old dog will probably dance when he hears he won’t have to part with his credits and I want to catch it on holo-corder.”

The rumbling sigh deep in his chest sounded more like an engine powering down than a mortal man, and it told you more than words ever could. The arm you had around his chest was met with strong fingers that intertwined with your own. He doesn’t want me to go. Who are you, Mandalorian?

“Tell me anyway? Please?” His arms tightened like a fortress around you. His words were distant, echoing out from somewhere in dreamland instead of right by your ear. Alright you big softie, if you’re going to beg me. You sighed heavily against him, trying to recall the songs of your distant past. 

“The nights are long between the stars, and lonely too for me,

I wonder how I might have fared with home and family.

But the bonds of friendship I have formed will last my lifetime through,

Security is not for me, my dreams are all of you.”

The same soft snores that had been your original encore with the baby now ghosted in your ear, muffled by the mysterious beskar helmet but still unmistakable. Like father like son. 

The weight of his arms around you was like nothing you had ever felt in your years on the run. You had traveled so far and met so many living beings but not once had you let another share your bed while you slept. You could get used to this. The thought was the last you had before sleep overtook you, your body slumping against his while you dreamed of silver and steel.

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@mandoinevarro​ @mrsparknuts​ @cookiejuicedesu​

[afeb]

Fred Weasley - Stress Reliever

“And the winner is...Hufflepuff!” It seemed there was an equal amount of cheers and groans in the crowd, the Hufflepuff Quidditch team proudly holding up the trophy next to the Gryffindor team.

From the stands I could see Fred, and if I didn’t know any better anger was simmering in his belly until something (or someone) made him pop.

“Oh Merlin,” I said to Hermione. “I’m not gonna stop hearing about this for months.”

“Good luck.” She shyly smiled as we began leaving the stands along with everyone else.

Usually I waited for Fred in the Great Hall after a game, he’d come bounding in with a smile on his face, because usually he won. But this was no usual day, and as such didn’t deserve usual treatment.

I waited outside the boys locker room, listening intently to Oliver giving the boys an earful about how “it was bloody Hufflepuff...what happened?!”

The boys came out, sulking one by one, until finally Fred came out. He was talking to George, who had an equally sour expression on his face, and his eyes found me. His jaw clenched as he muttered something to his brother before coming over to me.

“Hey Freddie.” I chirped, attempting to lighten the mood.

“Hey, Love.” He grumbled in response, dropping his duffel bag and wrapping his arms around my waist.

I was lifted in the air as he buried his head into my neck, letting a deep, sorrowful sigh. I wrapped my arms around his neck and soothed my hands over his hair.

“I thought you played wonderfully.” I mumbled gently.

“Not well enough.” He said back, setting me on the floor and peering down at me. “When did I get so shit.”

I frowned. “Don’t say that about yourself.”

“I am though, aren’t I? Fucking Hufflepuff!” He yelled angrily.

“Hey! Don’t take it out on me.” I snapped back.

He rolled his eyes. “Like I could talk to you about this anyway.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“The only thing you fucking do is read and talk to the girls about me.” He scoffed. “You’re hardly an intelligent person to talk to about sports.”

My mouth fell open, and his eyes immediately widened. “Well then...this unintelligent person will just go away then.”

“That’s not what I said.” He snapped.

“Merlin, it’s a stupid game Fred! Get a grip!” I yelled before storming away.

I heard him call after me, but I ignored him and muscled my way through the crowd boys, all sulking their way up to the castle.

“Y/N?” I heard George say.

“What?” I snapped as many ‘oohs’ erupted from the Quidditch team.

“Nothing...jeez.” I turned back and made my way to the dorm room, where I proved Fred right and bitched to the girls about our fight.

It was later than evening and Fred had made no effort to apologise to me, I opted to sit away from his at dinner and grumbled over my meal. I was half listening to Lavender when a piece of paper hit my head. My head snapped to see who had thrown it: Fred. He nodded at the paper, urging me to look.

‘Meet me in the Secret Meeting Room, 11pm - Freddie x’

I rolled my eyes and tossed the paper next to me, looking over at Lavender who hadn’t stopped talking.

“Psst,” I ignored Fred. “Y/N.”

“What?” I snapped.

“Did you see my note?” He asked, his friends looking at me intently.

“Yes.” I said back, rolling my eyes.

“And?”

I groaned. “Jeez Freddie, fine.”

He nodded and went back to his friends who patted him on the back. After dinner I stayed up until 11, and I decided I’d teach him a lesson and be late. At quarter past I got up and made my way to the Secret Meeting Room. Once safely inside, I saw Fred standing in the middle of the room, nervously pacing.

“I thought you weren’t going to come.” He confessed when he saw me.

I shrugged and folded my arms. “Given how rude you were, I had a mind to.”

He sighed. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said those things. You are intelligent, much more than me.”

I stared at him for a moment before dropping my arms. “You need to learn to control your temper, it worries me how easy it is for you to snap and say something horrible.”

“I know...” he mumbled. “Forgive me?”

I tugged him close to me and wrapped my arms around his waist. “Of course I forgive you.” I said, pressing my cheek against his chest. “I’m sorry I said it was a stupid game, I know how much it means to you.”

His arms wrapped around my shoulders and he planted a heavy kiss on my head. “It’s fine.” He mumbled. “I’ll learn how to control my words.”

I looked up at him. “Please.”

He leant down and pecked my lips before melting them against my own, my hands snaking up his chest and wrapping them around his neck. His tongue swiped over my lip before prying them apart, dancing slowly with mine.

A small moan escaped my throat, causing Fred to place his large hands under my thighs and hoist me up. I wrapped my legs around his waist as he pressed me against a near by pillar, trailing his lips down my neck and sucking on the sensitive flesh.

“Use me.” I moaned.

He pulled back and looked at me. “What?”

“I know you’re frustrated about the game...so use me.”

I slowly slid down his body as he loomed over me. “Do you know what you’re asking, Little Girl.”

My legs twisted at his words. “Don’t think I can handle it, Daddy?”

Suddenly his hand was around my throat as he forced me against the wall. “Let’s see, shall we?”

His hand went up my skirt and pushed my underwear to the side, his eyes intently watching me as his fingers quickly found my bundle of nerves.

My eyes widened as my mouth dropped open, small whimpers leaving my lips. A smirk graced his lips as he moved to ease his fingers into me, two at first and then adding a third.

“Just warming you up.” He whispered. “Gotta make sure that pretty little pussy can take my cock.”

“Oh Freddie.” I whined.

He pulled his hand from my underwear and immediately sucked on his fingers, closing his eyes and letting out a long, deep moan leaving his lips.

“I’ve got to taste you properly.” He demanded

He dropped to his knees in front of me, large hands splayed over my thighs as he gently pushed them apart. He kissed the skin, easing my skirt up and looping his fingers around my underwear and tugging them down.

He wasted no time and immediately licked a bold stripe up my centre, causing a high pitched moan to escape my mouth. My hands immediately buried into his hair and tugged, rocking my hips against his tongue. His hand slapped my thigh as a warning to behave, and I whimpered at the harsh contact.

He stood to his full height, lips glistening with me. “Behave.” He lowly said.

“Sorry.” I blushed.

His lips tenderly pressed to mine. “Good girl.”

He spun me around and pressed my chest to the wall, lips finding my ear and gently tugging on the lobe with his teeth. I heard his trousers unzip and gasped as he ran his tip over my exposed core.

“Ready?” He hummed into my ear.

“Please.” I whimpered.

He moaned as he pushed into me, hands coming to box me in and rest against the wall in front of us. He bottomed out, head falling onto my shoulder as he groaned.

“So fucking tight.” He swore, kissing my neck as he pulled out.

His pace soon quickened as he leant back, hands harshly holding my hips, surely leaving a bruise in the skin. His moans and groans grew louder and louder as he brought me closer and closer to the edge.

“Oh Freddie!” I whined. “I’m gonna-please!”

Suddenly he wrapped his arms around me and brought my back to his chest, lips against my ear. “That’s it honey, cum on daddy’s cock. You’ve been such a good little sex toy for me, come on...come on.”

His words forced me over the edge as I moaned deeply, my hands squeezing his forearms tightly as he continued to rut into me. My head tilted back, my shaky legs struggled to keep me upright as Fred chased his own release.

“Please Freddie.” I whined.

He groaned. “Want it? Want my cum in you?”

“Yes!” I squeaked.

“Such a little slut for my cum, you’ve earned it Honey.” He suddenly pulled out and spun me around, forcing me onto my knees. “Open.”

I dropped my jaw and stuck out my tongue, Fred resting his tip against the flat surface and began rubbing his cock. I batted my eyelashes at him, and he came with a moan, spilling ropes of cum into my mouth.

He quickly grabbed my jaw and leant down so our faces were close. “Swallow.” He lowly demanded.

I did as I was told and smiled brightly up at him. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, love.” He pecked my lips and hauled me up, wrapping his thick arms around me.

“Feel better?” I cooed.

“Much, you’re my very own personal stress reliever.”

[cottoncandy-jester]

✨lie down darling it's time for a dream✨

3rd gym squad with deaf S/O

This squad needs more love they are all adorable babies maybe I'll do a poly story with them later

This story contains: talks of bullying, wholesomeness, just soft warm stuff with a hint of angst

Akaashi keiji

He makes sure everyone knows that you're deaf if they ever want to talk to you

He is always respectful and makes sure to never scare you by randomly touching you

He knows a little sign language but you two mostly write or text each other

He loves to kiss you on your ears and neck

He actually loves to hear you laugh

You always say you have a weird laugh but he doesnt agree

He likes to hold your hand when you two are out in public

He doesn't really like to baby you though since he knows you are capable of being independent

But please rely on him if you need to

If you ever get stressed or anything he is the type to pull you away from the situation and comfort you

You and keiji were on a date getting crepes, you got banana and he got strawberry but you would often take bites out of each others, keiji leaned forward taking a bite of your crepe and getting whip cream on his nose which made you laugh

Your loud laugh made him smile but he glanced around seeing people stare at you, he hoped you didnt notice but dadly you did and quickly covered your mouth with your hand now overthinking and tears started to brim in your eyes but you jumped when you felt a soft hand on yours.

You looked up and saw keiji texting on his phone so you pulled out yours to see what exactly he wanted to say.

"let's take our crepes to go and take a walk? I love you."

You looked up only to see the male softly smiling at you before you gave a happy nod. You two decided to walk around the park hands held tightly as Akaashi talked to you about volleyball making sure to talk slow enough for you to read his lips.

Bokuto koutaro

He had no idea when you two first went out

He is always showing you off like a trophy though

"MY BABY IS THE CUTEST THING EVER! LOOK AT THEM!"

Even though you cant hear him he is still super loud around you

He sometimes forgets you are deaf so when you stare blankly after he just ranted for ten minutes awaiting your response he realizes that he spoke way too fast for you

You somehow taught him sign language but you two also created your own special symbols that only you two know

If you use the symbol during a game he is going to be super pumped

the others drag you to him if he is in emo mode

He likes your voice

He knows talking is hard but he just wants to hear you say his name

With a lot of speech therapy you fulfilled his wish and he knew right there that he wanted to marry you

It was an off day for him, he wasn't playing as well as he nirnally was and that was cause you were late to his match. Every second he got he would searched the crowd for you and miss the ball.

The team lost the first set and something needed to change before they lost the game, as bokuto sat on the bench drinking water he couldnt help but think of you.

Luckily akaashi had your number and just before bokuto was about to get back to the game he heard the doors swing open and his name called

"KOUTARO!"

His eyes landed on you who was rushing to him while panting, his entire body froze as he watched you and his ears were ringing as tears rolled down his now red face. He thought he was dreaming but you did it again when you nearly tacked him in a hug

"koutaro! M' sorry!"

Bokuto shakily wrapped his arms around you tightly now peppering kisses all over your head and face when you looked at him.

"you- you said my name! Ah! You're here! Did you run here you look so tired! Did you come to see me win? Haha I can't lose now can I?"

Bokuto was so excited and rambling so you simply yanked him down to your level before selling your lips against his.

That definitely perked him up and before you knew it the male was energized and ready to win the game.

His lucky charm was hear after all

Kuroo testuro

He is pretty goofy with you

He loves physical touches to let you know he loves you

Honestly he is the type to pull your cheeks and watch you whine about it

He likes to playfully tease you by calling you his little mouse

He is also a fan of ear kisses

Always kisses your ears or licking your ear lobes

If you aren't paying attention to him or zoned out that's how he gets your attention

He makes sure you are taken care of though

If anyone was to bully you he would definitely get pissed

He likes dates at home where you two just watch tv

Always makes sure subtitles are on no matter what

Knows a little bit of sign language just small stuff

You two mostly use your ability to read lips

He likes when you watch him practice and tends to work extra hard

Please say his name

He doesn't care what you sound like he just wants you to say his name or laugh with him

Your laugh makes him grin so much

He likes your cute little whines and whimpers the most

He is a teasing demon

"what's wrong little mouse? You look so red and flushed"

Kuroo made sure to talk slow so you can clearly read each and every word, you sat in his lap facing him while he waited for the others to come into the gym for practice.

He normally isn't one to show up early but he wanted alone time with you, with a shaky breath a small whimper escaped you as the male leaned forward trailing his tongue along your ear now running his fingers along your waist under your shirt.

"you can't hear me, but I love you so much"

His breath on your ears gave you shivers before you slowly trailed your hands along his chest under his shirt. He was going to kiss you but the sounds of the gym doors sliding open startled him and he pulled back now simply pressing you close to his chest.

You glanced and saw yaku and lev walk in which made you jump lightly and gripped kuroo's jacket lightly before looking up at him as he simply kissed your head.

"yeah I know, we can play later for now me a good mouse and watch your kitty cat practice" as he lifted you off his lap and onto the bench he couldn't help but feel annoyance as more members walked into the gym..damn it those cockblockers.

Tsukishima kei

He pretends he's not over protective but he is

No one is allowed to get a foot close to you unless they want to get the death glare

You are to hold his hand wherever you two go

He made a playlist for you and made sure all the songs had a loud bass so you can feel the vibrations against your ears

He loves listening to music with you and usually uses a speaker so you can touch it and feel it

He does pick on you but only he can do that

If he needs something and you aren't looking at him he will touch your hand or reach to touch your face

"oi, look at me more idiot. How are you supposed to know what I'm saying if you don't?"

He likes to make you wear his jacket all the time so everyone knows who you belong to

Any bullies you get will be dealt with

He loves to kiss all over your face when you two are alone

Mostly cause it makes you laugh

Will use sign language with you if he wants to say something embarrassingly sweet infront of people

Your body in his jacket made his heart swell, you decided to join him during practice and watch him, this only made him more determined to impress you though he wouldn't admit that fact. He was pretty busy with practice that he didn't quite notice strangers walking into the gym.

They were probably going to watch the game as well, so when tsukishima did see them walk in he didn't pay it much mind. Before he knew it they were sitting next to you, one on either side of you.

"so, you watching a friend play?"

"maybe a boyfriend?"

Of course you didn't hear them and they just thought you were being rude so one of them roughly tapped your shoulder earning your attention.

You tried to watch his lips move but he was talking to fast, when you started to use sign language that's when it all went to hell.

"oi! You deaf or something?! So you can't hear anything I said! That's rude as hell! Shouldn't you be wearing a special sign that says so?!"

The two started to bother you now pushing you around and it didn't take lone til one of them pushed you off the bench and started to make you cry.

Your panicked sobs echoed in tsukishima's ears before he walked over like an angry bull, all he could see was red and he wasn't afraid to get into a fight.

"hey! The hell do you think your doing?! Leave them the hell alone!"

Tsukishima's tall height scared the bullies away and the blonde quickly scooped you into his arms now looking at your face, he noticed a bruise from when you were shoved.

"damn it, those assholes. Hey look at me! You okay?"

You gave a small nod before tsukishima simply carried you into his arms feeling you wrap your legs around him.

"I'm leaving practice."

With that he walked to the locker room to get changed and get his things with you never leaving his side.

He made sure to be more aware of you and those around you, you were so fragile and small and he didn't want to see you get hurt.

Hinata shoyo

He is willing to fight for you

Like a tiny bodyguard

Loves to hear you talk even if you don't like it

Is willing to learn sign for you

But he is dumb so he mixes up signs

He would rather just talk slowly or write

Gets all serious when someone picks on you

He loves to mouth out super cute things

Kisses all over for days

Please come watch him play

Will try and ask daichi for a time out if you show up late to his match

He needs to kiss you!

S I M P

He doesn't have money but he will give you anything you want

Hinata laughs as you straddled him now tickling his sides, it was supposed to be a netflix date but it quickly turned into a tickling match. Hinata was quickly losing this battle but was having fun anyways, he suddenly flipped you over and pinned your hands above your head not realizing how suggestive this looks

"ah...hah..not funny, my stomach hurts now"

As he looked down at you he found himself staring into your eyes a blush forming on his cheeks. You always looked so cute to him, a cute angel that made his insides tingle.

"you're, so cute."

He couldn't help but laugh at your red face and he released your hands only for you to sit up and hold his face in your hands

"shoyo..cute..too"

Those three words made him jolt and before you know it he buried his face in your neck squealing and holding you close. You can feel his pounding heartbeat against your own and simply smiled

Lev haiba

Okay so for the first month of your relationship he just thought you were a mute

Poor fool thought everytime you didn't respond in some way meant you were mad at him

After crying to yaku who explained that you were deaf he ended up apologizing to you

He still forgets that you are deaf a lot

He likes it when you cling to his clothes when you both are in a crowd

He tries not to talk too fast but sometimes you have to tug him by his shirt to tell him to slow down

Can't sign to save his life

He often used really dramatic gestures to get you to understand at times

He doesn't mean to offend he's just nervous and doesn't know what to say

He loves you to death

Also a S I M P

You want a snack? Write it down he got you

Want his jacket? Oh he's taking it off as we speak

Need him to carry you? Of course he will!

He doesn't like fighting so with bullies he just presents his height and they normally back off

He is a jealous boy though cause kenma and you sign all the time

Lev watched with a pout as kenma moved his hands fluently signing to you, lev couldn't get the grasp of it but kenma learned fast. This bugged lev since his worst thought was that kenma would steal you away from him!

"it's no fair! He has better hair than me!"

His complaining was cut short by yaku who kicked the Russian in the leg, this made lev fall and he let out a pained groan

"yakuuuuu I can't practice right now my partner is being stolen by kenma!"

"idiot! They are obviously hanging around him cause it's easier to talk to kenma than it is you"

This made lev look to you and he soon came up with an idea. He rushed over to you and kenma before softly grabbing your hand.

This made you jump and you looked over in confusion before smiling softly at his joyful expression.

"I know I tend to talk too fast sometimes, but please don't replace me with kenma! I love you so so much!"

He talked slowly making sure you get every single word and he was shocked to hear your laughter, he glanced over at kenma who now walked away not wanting to ruin whatever moment was happening.

"why you laughing?"

You took out a notepad and a pen before starting to write before handing it to him

As he read what you said his heart started to swell.

"silly! I'm not replacing you with kenma! I love you! More than anything!"

He couldn't help but hug you tightly kissing your face over and over again.

"I love you too! You love me too even if I can't sign! Or even if I mess up? Ahhh! I love you so much! Marry me [y/n]!"

You weren't quite sure what he was saying but you knew he was happy and that made you happy.

[straynstay]

Minho - Hybrid AU! (part II)

Happy Easter, everyone! 🐰♥️

part I

for the first time in years you skipped class 

all because of your conflicting feelings for Minho

you are still too fragile to see him and Chaewon at school, especially after what happened at the parking lot

seeing them together and so intimate with cute pet names made you realize there’s no room for you anymore

Minho is growing up and becoming an adult, and so are you, and soon society will pressure you both to find a mate

and you know a prey won’t choose a predator to spend the rest of their lives with

so it’s better to end things with Minho now

that’s why you avoided him when he showed up at your house to check up on you after school

you heard him ringing the bell and calling your name, which only made you cry harder, but you remained in bed

he came back when your parents were home, and even with your mom asking you to at least see what he wanted, you fiercely denied

Minho left his class notes with your mom, and at night you cried with the papers pressed onto your chest

you woke up feeling a little better in the morning, despite your eyebags and swollen eyes ruining your face

you placed a cool towel over your eyes 10 minutes before leaving to school and you hoped that would help somehow

walking to school without Minho was weird, but you said to yourself you’d soon get used to it

from today on, Minho would become like any other prey to you

it’s time to remove him completely from your life and you’re ready to do it

-♡-

school days were dreadful

but ignoring Minho was easier than you had imagined though

after he noticed you were being cold and distancing yourself from him, he took the hint and left you alone right away

and it hurt

a lot

because without you around, Chaewon was even more glued to his side

and even though you tried to avoid certain places you knew they’d be at, you still saw them sometimes

walking around together, holding hands, eating vegetables and feeding each other at the cafeteria, laughing at stupid things, being the damn perfect couple you wish you’d be

but since your pain is your own, you never opened your mouth to complain about it to anyone

you just tried to shrug it off and move on, washing away all the pent up anger on the field

and everyone at school was really impressed at how good you were playing lacrosse lately, making them hope for the victory this year

and before you could dwell even more on your self pity, saturday arrived

the big day

the revenge match

you were nervous, excited, worried, angry, and heartbroken

but you were decided to play like your life depend on it

maybe you could become your school’s star player and get a nice scholarship afterwards if you give your best at the game tonight

so you set your mind to focus only on the game and make your team and school proud of you

since the match would be held at the rival school, you had a small gathering at your own school with your P.E. teacher and teammates

Minho was there with the cheerleaders rehearsing the choreography and chants for tonight’s game

you ignored him like you had been doing since tuesday

you even sat beside your coach on the school bus during the small trip to the rival school

the cheerleaders were too excited for your liking, but you didn’t say a thing, letting their chit chat numb your ears

as soon as you arrived, the team went straight to the designated locker room and got ready for the match

you were doing things automatically, barely paying attention to your surroundings

you put on your equipment, helped some of your teammates with theirs, and were ready to play

you waited with your team to be called to the field and when you got there, you were impressed by the amount of people on the bleachers cheering for your school

and then your eyes captured the place beside the field where the cheerleaders were

Minho looked really good with his tight uniform, and you were sure Chaewon had complimented him lots

you rolled your eyes realizing you were thinking about them again and went to your position

as soon as the judge blew the whistle, it was game on

-♡-

you were scoring like there’s no tomorrow, fighting hard to turn the game around

pretty much half of your team’s goals were yours

and everyone was going crazy chanting your name

but the one person your eyes quickly looked for was happily hugging someone else

Minho was spinning Chaewon’s small body around as if she was the one who was making the team win

and you couldn’t stand it

you really couldn’t

you wanted to rip them apart, growl as angrily as you could at Chaewon while showing your huge fangs to scare the shit out of her

but you just clenched your fists, letting your claws almost pierce through the thick fabric of your gloves

if it wasn’t for your mouthpiece, you’d probably let out a loud hiss

you shook your head, griped the stick harder, and decided to solely focus on the game

rage was freely flowing through your veins, boiling your blood and blinding your common sense

you’re gonna destroy anyone who stands in your way now

and you’re gonna take that damn trophy home

-♡-

it felt like waking up from a deep trance being lifted up by your teammates while the crowd chanted your name

it took you awhile to understand what had happened

but when you saw the scoreboard, realization hit you

you won!

you really won!!

it felt amazing raising the trophy up high while all the audience screamed for you

you felt like a celebrity after taking so many pics

a lot of people from your school came to congratulate and thank you for the victory

and it was all too good while it lasted

your heart was roaring inside your chest

you can actually get used to this feeling of being praised for being fierce and untammed

after it all ended, you and your teammates went to the locker room to shower and get changed

you were still being the main topic of their conversation

you heard everything they said you did on the last minutes of the match, but you don’t really remember doing it

you were so blinded by anger that you can’t even recall the rest of the game

but it’s okay cause you won

and that’s all that matters, right?

once you slowly started removing your equipment, you realised how sore you were

your arms felt like jelly, your legs were ugly bruised, your shoulders hurt from all the impact

your ears were ringing from all the screaming and your eyes were sensitive due to the huge spotlights on the field

you just wanted to throw yourself in bed and sleep for three days straight

you put away your equipment in your bag and took your body wash to the shower

it was a quick shower since you couldn't make most of the movements now

so you just washed away the sweat, dried yourself the best your arms allowed you, and started to put on new clothes to go home

“we’re already going to the bus, want us to take your bag?” the captain asked and you agreed

you checked if your equipment was complete in your huge bag, and handed it to your teammates

“I’m finishing, I’ll be out in a sec” you said and heard them telling you to take your time and that they’ll wait for the star of the team to carry the trophy to school

you just laughed at their comments and continued to get dressed

you tried brushing your hair, but your shoulders said no

so you just used water to fix them a little bit

you were so focused on your own pain that you didn’t notice Minho was inside the lockers room staring at you

but once you did, all the emotions you were suppressing came back like a tsunami

and it felt like drowning

“preys aren’t allowed here, go away” you let out an angry growl at him

“you don’t scare me, but nice try” Minho gave you two thumbs up

“LEAVE ME ALONE!” you screamed, tired of having wrong feelings for him

“what happened to you? why are you like this?” Minho took a step closer, but you raised your voice again

“you happened to me, Minho! this is all your fault!”

“what?!” he snared “what did I do?” he crossed his arms staring intensely at you 

you got defeated while looking back at him

four days being apart and nothing changed, it only made you miss him like crazy

he was really clueless, wasn’t he?

“what did you do?” you asked tiredly

“you talked to me, Minho, you became my lab partner” you gave him a bitter smile remembering that fateful day

“why couldn't you just be afraid like everyone else?” you inquired through your tears 

“I know it's my fault falling in love, but please leave me alone until I get over these feelings for you… please” you never sobbed before in your life, but because of Minho now you did

“no” his answer was firm

“Minho, go” you said again using your intimidating tone

any prey would have ran away for dear life, but Minho didn’t even budge

he did, in fact, approached you slowly, but before he was too close, you backed out

Chaewon was coming, you could smell her sweet scent from the distance 

“Minho?” she was calling for him outside the lockers room and she was distressed, you could sense it

“she’s worried about you” you warned, turning your back to him and pretending to still fix your hair

“she has nothing to worry about” Minho replied

“you’re a bunny, I’m an angry lynx, it makes sense to me”

“you're a lynx, yeah, but you're also my best friend and I'm the one who's worried here”

you tried muffling a mewl, but hearing Minho calling you best friend hurt like hell

Chaewon called him louder this time

“go” you closed your eyes, forcing some tears to roll down to your chin

your chest was aching like there was a fire rapidly consuming your heart

and then you heard his footsteps moving away from you

Minho did what you asked him to and left you alone

you sighed loudly, but quickly closed your lips together to avoid sobbing

you were feverish, enraged, sad, disheartened, shaking, ready to lose control

this was all new to you, never in your life your emotions were so over the top

but this is Minho’s effect on you

you just want this feelings to leave you alone, to go away

you rest your head on your locker a little too forcefully, producing a loud bang that echoed through the room

you did it again, hitting your forehead a little bit stronger this time

and again

and again

every time the bang was louder and louder

“you’re gonna get bruised”

“Minho....” you whined hearing him talking to you

he was back, you couldn’t believe it

you turned your head to look at him and tell him to go away again

“I’m not leaving you, don’t even try” he warned reading your intentions in your desperate eyes

“I’m really angry” you said

“I’m not worried about it, I know you’re not gonna hurt me because I trust you and because I know you love me too much to even consider causing me pain”

his words made you cry harder

he was right

Minho noticed you wouldn’t reply, so he got one step closer

he sighed

“but you know... I love you too and I’m hating seeing you like this, so if your pain is because of Chaewon and I, you shouldn’t be suffering”

you scoffed

how dare he say this after all you’ve seen and heard?

“hear me out, ok? I like her, but I don’t like her” Minho quickly explained

“I like her as a bunny, but I don’t like her like romantically even though she’s a bunny and my natural choice of a partner, but who cares about natural selection? we’re made in a lab, there’s nothing natural about it” he shrugged

“I feel like she’s part of my litter. I never met a Mini Lop before, so it’s nice to be around one of my own” he took another step closer

“but not as nice and thrilling like being around you” Minho gave you side smile

“I like living life dangerously, and you keep me high on adrenaline all the time like... will you eat me for breakfast? will you marinate me for dinner instead? should I run now or wait a minute more?” he teased

“shut up” you rolled your eyes

“make me” Minho provoked you, and you moved in the blink of an eye

your lips collided with his in a strong, angry kiss

you felt your entire body buzzing with adrenaline for tasting him after waiting for so long

you pulled him closer and grabbed his neck to deepen the kiss

Minho didn’t fight back and for the first time he actually behaved like a prey with you

you felt yourself getting too excited about it all: his submissive scent, his addicting taste, his soft lips, his hands gripping your hips, his hot body against yours...

and in the heat of the moment you ended up with his lower lip between your sharp teeth 

Minho hissed and you broke the kiss, running your thumb across his lip to see if you had hurt him too much

“sorry” you said “I got carried away”

“I don’t mind some love bites here and there” he winked seductively at you

“Chaewon will try to stab me if I hurt you somehow, she likes you waaay too much” you rolled your eyes smiling a bit, feeling somehow a lot more calmer and at ease than before while caressing his long fluffy ears

“she may like me, but I like you and that’s the only thing that matters” Minho stated

“will you give me a cute nickname now?” you asked

“yeah, mine” he smiled brightly “how does that sound?”

“oddly perfect”

[everyhowlmarksthedead]

ANOTHER VICTORY

Michael “Riz” Ariza x Reader

Anon asked: I just want you to know I had a dream where I had sex with Riz and he was PACKING below the belt 😏 and it was great and Omgggg I will pay you if you can write a nsfw fic about that. (Also include doggy style bc that was the position 😏😏) please and ty so much ❤️❤️❤️

Word Count: 1.2k

Warnings: NSFW, smut and Riz being daddiest.

Thanks to my lovely beta reader @chibsytelford 💘

Author comments: I hope you all enjoy. Gif credits to: @fromthesixteenthfloor

Tag list: @starrynite7114 ​ @chibsytelford ​ @dazzledamazon ​ @mara-mpou ​ @sammskellington ​ @gemini0410 ​ @1-800-imagines ​ @briana-mishell24 ​ @sassymox @whyisgmora @aquamento @sadeyesgf 💥 (if you wanna be tagged, send me a message!)

With the cardboard box of Jose Cuervo on the bar, you tie your hair in a pony-tail to place the bottles in the shelving hanging on the wall. Ray came with Happy last night, and the prospect is pretty gentle with you. You two also have a lot of things in common, so always it's nice to see him again. You're laughing about one of his bad jokes, watching sideways the tensed jaw of Riz, some meters away, sitting on a table and playing poker with some Mayans and some Sons'. He's not even paying attention to the game.

“So, when you finish?”

“Ah...” Turning to your wrist to watch the clock, you calculate the time. “One hour, more or less, why?”

“We can go to that new foodtruck you said last time”.

“Sure! I would like it. A friend of Letti works there”.

“I'm done”. You hear Riz's rough voice, seeing how he throws his cards on the table, getting up of his chair.

Walking towards you, he grabs your forearm turning you to a strange confusion, whilst he's practically dragging you through the hallway straight to the dorms. You don't ask. You know exactly what is going on, with a naughty smile on your lips. He opens the door of the room you used to use, pushing you inside, before closing it back. He looks furious, but not at you, but because of Ray and his little shame of flirting with you.

You're about to cross your arms, trying to look outraged, when he nails his hands on your hips pulling you into his body with a dry hit, crashing his lips with yours. Growling at the slight lash of pain, you tangle your hands in his hair, enjoying the dirty and angry kiss he's giving you. His hands moving fast, lifting up your shirt over your head to throw it somewhere, while yours are traveling down to the belt. He's hard because of the excessive and exaggerated situation, and you can't help but feel blessed because of his jealousy. He's not the kind that could hit another man, but fuck you harder to mark his territory and make himself sure you're satisfied enough to not find another guy.

“What 'you gonna' do, papi?” You ask with a husky voice and your lungs looking for some air.

He doesn't answer, getting you undressed as you unzip his jeans walking towards the bed. And when he can, he turns you under his hands to make you kneel on the mattress spreading your legs enough to enjoy the view for a second. He doesn't even need to play with you, 'cause he knows you're wet enough when he behaves that way. Supporting your weight on your knees and on your palms, he guides his reddened glans between your legs, till he's able to pound you with all his strength making you moan loudly with closed eyes.

“Shit, Riz...” You growl, tangling your fingers in the sheets, while he nails his on your wrist.

Every thrust is angrier than the last, hitting your soul without regrets as you like. You're sure that someone turned on the radio outside of the room, just to not hear you. It's a little uncomfortable, but you love screaming out his full name when you finish.

“Oh, god... just like that, papi”. You gasp biting your lips, arching down your back to rest your chest on the bed sinking your head between your arms.

Riz spanks your ass two times, making you squirm for a second. You enjoy a lot the sex with him when he's riled up. 'Cause it's not because of you, but he takes it out on you giving you such pleasure, always being careful of not hurting you. One of his hands tour your back, tangling it in the pony-tail to lift you up with a jerk, fitting his body better between your legs and your back supported on his chest.

Thrusting you with a non-stop move, he puts that hand grabbing your throat, looking desperate for bite your neck twisting it and leaving a wet trail of saliva. Your groans get louder placing your fingers around his wrist to make some pressure on your skin, while his other hand goes down your low belly till find your disregarded clit.

“Fuck, baby...” Riz moans on your ear, stroking your wetness with his forefinger, drawing an imaginary road through your back with kisses, pushing your chest again to the mattress.

His hands holds your waist now, pounding you faster with his head leaning slightly back. His gasps dancing with yours all around the room. He's a self-confident man and he trusts you blindly, but Happy's prospect drives him insane in a bad mood, and he hate everytime that kid is swarming near you, as if he thinks that he could have a chance with you. But you're Ariza's property and everybody knows that fact. Not as a trophy, nor a possession, nor a piece of meat in a barbecue, but the love of his life, being bewitched by you.

Maybe sometimes he has a weird way to show you that he loves you, but it's part of his charm and you like it. Licking your lips, you start to feel how close you are of cumming because the pleasure he's drowning you into. Riz pulls himself out with a disappointed growl in your throat, turning you over the bed.

“I wanna see you cum, baby”. He says laying in top of you, forcing your legs to wrap his waist.

He digs his hardness without expecting, arching your back a little because of it, looking for his lips to kiss him and suck his tongue in a soft lick, whilst your moans floods the room. Some heat chills run through the skin of your thighs, bristling it. He loves your face when the ecstasy wraps you, seeing that it's the most beautiful thing he has ever seen.

“Fuckin' Michael Ariza!” You scream out, closing your eyes and your mouth opened, while he chuckles without stopping till he fills you with his seed, with a guttural howl full of pleasure.

“Me vuelves loco, mi amor”. (You drive me crazy, my love). He whispers tiredly on your ear, kissing gently your neck and your collarbone, trying to recover his air.

You laugh covering your mouth for a second, caressing lovely with your feet his legs. Shaking your hair then, you get comfy under his body, still inside you.

“I bet you will can't to have lunch outside”. He says then, kissing your lips slowly and enjoying them.

“Yea', congratulations. You always win”.

“This is my most desired victory”.

“I'm pretty sure, Rizzy. But now, get outta' my room, 'cause I need to take a shower and keep working”.

“At your service, mi reina”.

Pulling himself out and cleaning the mess he made, he gets dressed back while you're staring at him with a funny smile on your face. Before leaving, he leans to you with a hand placed on your neck, to give you some last kisses all around your cheeks and temples.

“I love you”.

“Yea' sure. Go fuck yourself”. You chuckle pushing him to get up.

[featherwriter]

<< Read from the beginning! >>

In the weeks to follow, Sylvanni’s captivity started to fall into a kind of routine. Not a good routine, but at least predictable. Erxaris’ deal held: so long as Silveks remained obedient, she was no longer subjected to the torturous experiments she’d initially endured. It wasn’t much of a reprieve, but it was better than nothing.

As Uldren had predicted, the shining stay and her new station afforded her a strange kind of status within House Kings. Most of the days, she was requested to be at the Baroness’ side as she held audience with other members of the House. Sylvanni was to be a silent but eye-catching trophy, the Guardian brought to heel. She was a quiet piece of furniture, staying near proceedings so that all present could be reminded that House Kings was powerful enough to accomplish such a feat. Or perhaps, seemingly powerful. The longer Sylvanni observed, the more she began to see just how much pageantry went into propping up a House of ailing numbers and the part she herself was made to play in that act.

On some occasions, when the Baroness truly wished to show off the command she wielded, Sylvanni would be commanded to make another bloody showing of loyalty. Just another death, she’d tell herself when handed a weapon for the deed. That it was by her own hand made no difference, other than that she learned how to do the deed quickly and cleanly. On the other side of the resurrection, she would kneel and hand back her Ghost silently to be contained once more, trying to empty herself of thoughts and emotions as she did so. 

He was there in the audience room with her most of the time, locked away in the containment canister. The Baroness liked to keep the little prison under-claw, tapping it in a clicking wave every so often to draw attention to her prize. Sylvanni tried her best not to look, not to think about him. Sentiment was a distraction she could ill afford before an opportunity to escape came. At this point, keeping herself fully blank was an almost meditative process. There was a strange kind of comfort in it, in the nothingness of it all. 

She watched days of the Baroness’ proceedings without speaking, without reaction, keeping the loose attention pose Erxaris had taught her. The Fallen of the House seemed to find her empty stare intimidating, and she took comfort in that even in this humiliated state, she could still inspire fear. In fact, those who bore witness to her acts of forced self-sacrifice often seemed even more nervous around her than before. She took satisfaction in that as well.

Her silent observations gave her plenty of time to try to decipher the Eliksni conversations which took place around her. Between her appearances in the Baroness’ chamber, when there was no need of her decorative function, she was returned to her cell. Whenever she wasn’t sleeping, she worked with Uldren to study the language, committing the alien sounds and overly intricate grammar to memory with practice and repetition. The lessons gave both of them something to work on, something to focus on other than the circumstances of their captivity. 

During one such lesson, Uldren paused to give her a long look. “May I ask where you were raised, Duv?”

She shifted her posture, trying to find a different position where the metal edges of the stay would dig in at least somewhere else from where they had been. There was never a comfortable position for the ill-fitting contraption, but she’d grown used to shifting it periodically to spread the discomfort out. “You know I have no childhood to remember, so when you say ‘raised’ you mean…?”

“Your first time, back from the dead.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Is this somehow relevant to the usage of the neutral-tone interrogative?”

He gave her a stern smile at the cheeky response. “Indulge me, if you would.”

She let out a long sigh, shaking her head. “It’s not exactly a pleasant story, Uldren.” She looked at him for a long pause, hoping he might let her out of the question, but he simply stared back, expectant of her answer. 

“Do go on.”

“Fine. My Ghost, M-Mandala–” It was still difficult to say his name down here, too present a reminder of his absence from her. “–he found me floating in ship wreckage, 83rd sector on the inner edge of the Reef. Most Guardians would tell you their first resurrection was a difficult, shocking experience. But I can say with certainty that the experience is even less enjoyable when done in the void of space with nothing to breathe.”

Uldren sat up a little more, leaning forward. “What happens in a situation like that? Do you just immediately decompress and die again?”

“No, not exactly.” Sylvanni rubbed a hand over her upper arm, finding the memories difficult to recount. “With the Light, we’re… we’re more resilient than you are. A Guardian doesn’t technically need air to continue living. The Light alone can sustain us, can heal the damage to our bodies constantly enough that we don’t pass away. There was no decompression because there was no air in my lungs to begin with. My corpse was as pressureless as it could be, and so too was I, once I was returned.

“But even if we can survive in the vacuum, it isn’t pleasant. The… the body remembers its former need to breathe, your instincts scream that you’re choking, suffocating, dying. But it doesn’t actually end. I didn’t know who I was. I didn’t know what was happening to me. I didn’t know how to make it stop. Just… trying to gasp for air that wasn’t there, everything empty and silent and agonizing.”

Uldren made a small hum, considering. “I’m surprised a Ghost would do such a thing to his Guardian, especially upon her first resurrection. Would it not have been possible to bring you somewhere with atmosphere before waking you for the first time?”

Sylvanni looked away, her shoulders curling forward slightly. This was a difficult thing to talk about. As terrible as it had been, she couldn’t blame her Ghost for it. She couldn’t. “It… It wasn’t his fault.” She forces firmness into the words, trying to reinforce them for herself as well. “He’s just a little machine; floating through the vacuum of space is no different from him than strolling the streets of the Last City. When he finally found me, after so long searching, he was just so excited to meet me, and Guardians can survive in such conditions. He just… He wasn’t thinking about what it would feel like.

“When he realized what was happening, realized I couldn’t even hear him to explain what was going on, he immediately put out an urgent distress call for ships in the sector. Another Guardian found us eventually, took us both into their ship and ferried me to the Last City. My first real breath in, well, I don’t even know how long it was, it was the most wonderful thing I could imagine. 

“Mandala felt terrible about the whole thing. My first few moments in that ship, catching my first new breaths, were such a mixed jumble of apologies and introductions and explanations about being a Guardian. I don’t like to bring it up, at least not around him. He still feels guilty that my earliest experience as a Guardian was so distressing. Like I said, it wasn’t his fault.”

“That’s quite forgiving of you, Duv. I didn’t realize your resurrection was so… unpleasant.” 

“I did tell you so at the start.” She bristled slightly, wondering if he was mocking her somehow. “Are you satisfied? Have I indulged you well enough, Your Highness?”

He ducked his head. “I’m sorry to have made you recount it then. Though it does offer me some insight. The reason I asked in the first place.”

“And that reason was…?”

“I have a theory,” Uldren said, a touch of his humor returning, “which I believe your experience may corroborate. I think you may have been Reef Awoken before your death.”

Sylvanni stiffened. Given the location of her death, she’d thought along the same lines herself, but never for very long. Seeking out information about one’s life before was forbidden. “Guardians aren’t meant to know our pasts or question what our lives were before. Whatever we once were does not matter. It’s not a topic to speculate upon.”

“Oh, come on, Guardian. You can’t tell me you aren’t even mildly curious about who you once were. I’m certain I would be, if our positions were switched. It’s certainly not impossible to figure some things out.”

“What?” she asked, lifting her chin in a challenge. “Are you saying you think you knew me before I died? Is that it?”

He waves his hand dismissively. “Nothing so specific. I very well may have, but no, you aren’t particularly familiar to me in that way. I simply have a theory that you may have been fluent in Eliksni in your former life. Many Reef Awoken are. I’ve been suspicious of how quickly you seem to be picking up what is, at its heart, a very complicated alien language. We can’t have been down here much more than a month and I’d say you’re at basic fluency, Duv.”

“I, well… I had previously studied some of the written glyph structures. That’s probably what it is.” Sylvanni’s brow furrowed, unnerved by the idea that she might have retained skills from her previous life to such a degree that they would be noticeable to someone else. “I’m sure you’re mistaken.”

“Studying glyphs wouldn’t explain how you learn to pronounce things so well so quickly.” He narrowed his eyes at her, smiling as though pleased to think he might have struck a nerve again. “You seem offended by the implication that you might be Reefborn. Would it really be so bad if it were true?”

Sylvanni took a moment to stand up, pacing a little bit to try to get her blood moving again. Constantly sitting in the cell was terribly stifling. “I simply prefer not to think about it at all. The past is the past, it doesn’t concern me. We should continue the lesson.”

He chuckled, much to her annoyance. “As you wish, Guardian. I believe you were asking about the neutral interrogative?”

The lessons were useful when surrounded constantly by Fallen and their chatter. Clearly, Sylvanni learned, those guarding their cells didn’t care to pay attention to the fact that their prisoners were practicing their language and many in the House seemed to believe she couldn’t understand anything they discussed in front of her. To their detriment, as steadily, more and more, that was becoming no longer the case. She wasn’t by any means a highly proficient speaker, but as Uldren had noticed, her comprehension had come a long way in their short time taking lessons, and she listened in Eliksni better than she spoke. She could grasp the overall meanings of most conversations, and she often kept note of any wholly unfamiliar terms or phrases to later ask Uldren what they meant. 

Between the time in her cell learning with Uldren and her time as an intimidating decoration for the Baroness, only one other assignment was routinely given to her: participation in the arena for the House’s entertainment. These occurrences weren’t frequent, but Sylvanni savored whenever they were given. Against the emotional blankness of most of her days, a chance to fight, to feel even her meager trickle of Light sing to her in the contest, it was the only time she ever felt like herself again. 

It always seemed a tossup whether or not they would give her a weapon before sending her out, but she learned to be just as ruthlessly efficient with only her hands as when armed. Even small amounts of Light, it turned out, could be put to devastating use when employed with precision. Against these hapless foes they sent to die before her, she was wrath unbridled, destruction unchained, and she relished that. She didn’t always win; sometimes the groups she faced managed to rally enough coordination to overwhelm her, but she usually emerged victorious. These days, there were no stealthed swordsmen waiting for her in the wings of the arena. If she made it through alive, she was expected to bow and then make another ‘show of loyalty’ for the audience’s amusement. In those cases, she was always raised again in the preparation room, away from the eyes of all. 

The one true constant of her new life’s routine was that terrible, accursed servitor. Every few hours, she would be subjected to its influence again, draining her reserves of Light before they could get high enough to be dangerous to her captors. Always immediately after her times fighting in the arena, the servitor was ready to catch her in its grasp as soon as she was back to life. This was another detail she wouldn’t have expected the Fallen to know about Guardians: how her Light flourished within her more quickly when she fought and killed enemies. Yet somehow this secret too was known to them, and they were always prepared to ensure she couldn’t use that Light against them after a fight. 

That moment, she realized, was likely her best chance at escape. She could gather Light in Erxaris’ makeshift Prison of Elders, sparingly using her voidlight to pull as much life as she could from those she slayed. She would have her Ghost back after the resurrection, and assuming she fought wisely, she might have enough Light to fully unleash her abilities on her guards and make a break for it. All it would take was a bit of sloppiness in the transition from raising her to the servitor drain, enough of a pause for her to make her move. Their greed for the Light-derived ether they synthesized from her would be their undoing. It would just take one mistake. 

She watched carefully for an opening, but despite her vigilance, time and again it failed to manifest. Over and over, with terrible efficiency, they bade her fight, resurrected her, and then drained her Light away immediately, before it could be useful. 

As these weeks passed, Sylvanni learned of House Kings, all the important conversations she bore witness to, quietly putting these scraps of information together into a picture of what her captors were really like. The House of Kings, despite the Baroness’ showy displays of power and spectacle, was struggling. Its most important members had almost completely retreated down into these warrens to try to escape the scrutiny and scavenging of the other Houses. The crowds Sylvanni saw in the broken arena were apparently almost the entirety of the House, its membership having dwindled to only a few hundred fighting soldiers and half that of untrained civilians.

The Baroness was the only Fallen of her size in the House—aside from their reclusive Kell, of course—and she hoarded their scant ether rations, raising none any higher than captaincy. One of the Kings priests had recently been named an Archon, but had not had his rations increased in measure with his new station. The Baroness herself was greedy, paranoid, and ambitious. She distrusted most of her advisors, aside from the unwavering Erxaris, who apparently was spared suspicion by virtue of technically not being a member of the Kings. House Judgment’s claims to service through neutrality towards the other Houses was a powerful tool in politics, it turned out. The Baroness, meanwhile, saw Sylvanni’s Light-ether as a final opportunity, perhaps, to get out of this mess. It was clear she hoped to glut herself and grow strong enough to supplant the Kell and take his place, whenever he deigned to return. 

Sylvanni thought it clear that the House’s problems almost certainly stemmed from such selfish, short-sighted leadership, but of course made no comment to anyone. She had no desire to see the Kings’ fortunes reversed, after all. She didn’t know whether or not to feel insulted to have been captured by such a weak House, or grateful that their crumbling hierarchy would hopefully lend her greater opportunity to get away. She suspected Uldren had guessed some of the internal political problems here as well, even though he didn’t have nearly the same level of access she did. She never missed how his eyes tracked every exchange from their cells, every expression, every morsel of gossip passed between bored guards that he could witness. He often asked her if she’d heard any valuable information during her time in the audience room, and she shared what she’d learned with him as she could. He turned out to be right after all: down here, they were all each other had. House Kings thought the Prince as beaten down and broken of will as their pet Guardian, but Sylvanni knew he yet had some kind of scheme he hoped to undertake. 

One of them would make it out of this hellish nightmare, of that she was certain. And after months of patience, waiting for something to change, some opportunity to make an attempt at freedom, a whispered rumor brought hope. The message spread quickly through the ranks of the once great House, from the official scout report to the Baroness, overheard by Sylvanni listening blankly at her side, to chatter among the lowest dregs as she was walked back to her cell. The same news was on every alien tongue she passed:  

The House of Kings was to make its highest preparations. The Kell was coming home.

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[extremelyblackandwhite]

i wanna know what love is - 20

Pairing: rockstar! sebastian stan x writer!reader

Warnings: teasing

A/N: enjoy xx 💕💕

Last Chapter // Next Chapter

Y/N had slept on his shoulder for the whole plane journey and he didn’t dare move, he daren’t wake her up after waking her up this morning. Of course with that came the jokes from his bandmates and snarky remarks from Melody who’d get a snarky look from Mary in return. Luckily, he didn’t have to awake her up once the plane landed as the captain’s announcement did that for him and she was pissed. He couldn’t help it but find it rather cute how she would pout at not being allowed to sleep. 

They all went through security again, got their bags and all met up in a quiet zone of the airport to figure the best way to get into the bus without getting too much attention drawn to them, specially to Y/N who was new to all of this. Luckily, they weren’t and knew exactly how to go without being noticed, they just liked to brainstorm. Y/N knew they probably got a kick out of brainstorming ideas to be unseen. 

     - Y/N can go with one of the security guards to the back. - Michael pointed out but Y/N already knew what she was gonna do, and it wasn’t going to enter the bus again.

    - I think I’ll just get the taxi to the bay and then get a boat to St.Michaels. Gonna see my parents for a while, if that’s alright. 

    - Yeah, that’s alright, Y/N. We have around three days before the gig, so take your time. - Anthony replied, taking his eyes from his phone to look at her while he spoke and returning right back to it. He was probably speaking to his wife. 

    - Right, then I’ll see you guys in three days. - she kissed Sebastian goodbye and turned on her wheel to walk to the taxi area to see if she could hail one and get to her destination in one piece. Sebastian watched her go with a tinge of sadness, something that was greatly noticed by Mary. What could she say? She was a great emotional reader.

    - Do you wanna go with Y/N? - she questioned before they could all leave and go inside the bumpy, hard to sleep in bus until they reached Maryland, where they would once again sleep in the uncomfortable bus. Besides, if Melody was staying in, he was definitely gonna sleep in the coach. - Go on, just don’t sleep with her in her parents’ house. 

   - He’s not really gonna go to her ... - Melody started to complain but her complaint fell on def ears as he had already decided to start sprinting towards the taxi area, hoping she hadn’t caught one yet. Gladly, she had not caught a taxi yet and was seated on the sidewalk waiting for everyone to get one so she could try and hail a cab once again. How did she even survive in NY? Sebastian chuckled before walking over to her and sitting by her side.

   - Seb ... - she turned to see him, a look of worry in her face. - Are you alright? Please tell me you didn’t get kicked out of the band already.

   - Not yet, Mary just suggested I went with you to St.Michaels. 

   - Mary suggested? - she raised her eyebrows at him in pure disbelief. 

   - Yes, it’s a 30 minute journey from Washington to Maryland plus boat journey. You could get kidnapped, lost or worse drown at sea. - he added making her hold in a chuckle as she tried to look serious. - Unless you don’t want me to meet your folks. 

   - Can you hail a taxi? - she asked and he immediately got up on his feet, raising his arm up and as if by magic a taxi stopped. She sure needed to get famous as that was the only explanation as to why he could hail a taxi so easily.

The taxi drive was, to put in the least interesting. Small talk was not her strong suit, however it was Sebastian and he spent the whole half hour making the man question if he really knew him or if he was just going insane. She wanted to scold him for that, but she couldn’t deny it wasn’t funny. They got to the docks on time and she went over to the ticket place to get some passages while Sebastian stared at the boat. He hated boats. He never understood the fixation of famous people with boats, he personally hated them and he hated them even more once he had taken a half an hour journey only to get dumped at the beach along with Y/N in the middle of the most posh collection of beach houses. 

   - Your parents own a house here? - he questioned, following her as she walked through the sand to one of the white houses. - For someone who gets excited at the glitz and glamour, I don’t understand how you don’t get bored. You’re clearly rich. 

   - My family is rich, it’s their money not mine. - she replied. Y/N did indeed live comfortably until her teenage years where she decided to move to NY and from them on she went on surviving with her own money so she didn’t really have many memories from being surrounded with riches except for the holidays. In her mind, the money her parents had were theirs and she didn’t want anything to do with it. She was gonna make it without any monetary help from her family. They finally reached the porch of a big white house that looked straight out of a dream holiday magazine and Sebastian swore he still did not understand why she got interested by the riches of his lifestyle. She knocked on the door, and took to stand next to Sebastian. - Most of my family lives here.

   - Like a beehive? 

   - You could say so. - she chuckled but got interrupted by the door being opened. The woman in front of them had Y/N’s vibrant eyes and Sebastian guessed it was her mother. 

   - Y/N, what a lovely surprise. - Miss Wiley came to hug her daughter, her gaze still stuck on the man next to her. - I thought you were working.

   - I took a little vacation. - she smiled. - Mum, this is Sebastian Stan. The one who got me the tour article. 

   - Pleasure to meet you, I’m Elizabeth Wiley. - she extended her hand for Sebastian to shake which he did. - Please come inside.

Sebastian followed Y/N and her mother into the entrance. It was a very serene with white walls and light blue accents, something he’d expect to see coming into a beach house. It was mind-blowing to him how he could still hear the ocean waves as if he was on the beach. 

   - Who is it, Betty? - a man, probably in his mid 50′s dressed in a plad suit walked into the entrance. - Pumpkin, what are you doing here?

   - She came to give us a little visit. - her mother placed her arms on her shoulder. - Oh and this is Sebastian.

   - Are you her boyfriend? - he was quite blunt, something Sebastian should’ve been expecting from a political reporter but he was still taken aback. 

   - Dad. - Y/N scolded, a light warmth coming to her face.

   - It’s a fair question, pumpkin. 

   - Leave them alone, Harry. - her mother went to stay by his side. - Why don’t you two come into the living room? 

She took them onto the living room where an elderly man was sat down watching a movie Sebastian had briefly seen. His eyes immediately set on him and he felt a cold shudder run through his spine. He was speechless, not sure how to act. 

   - Look dad, Y/N came to visit us. - her mum told the man who got up to look at his granddaughter. - Oh and this is Sebastian, he’s the one who got Y/N the writing job. 

   - You look much more like your mother. - he commented, shaking her granddaughter’s hand which Sebastian found odd but didn’t dare comment considering he was still looking at him like he was the enemy.

   - Right, why don’t you go into the garden and call for your brother, we should be dinning in a bit. I’ll take your bags. - Elizabeth took their bags and disappeared into the hallway and Y/N pushed him through the house and into the back garden. He’d never been so happy to be far away from someone as he was right now. 

They reached the back garden which should really be called a back park in Sebastian’s opinion. He’d never seen a garden so big yet there he was and a bit further away was a man playing squash against a movable plastic wall. He turned his back to see what the rustling noise was and a smile plastered onto his face. He rushed through to the couple, completing ignoring Y/N and shaking Sebastian’s hand.

   - You sir, are a legend. - he said, shaking Sebastian’s hand thus becoming the 3rd man in the Wiley household that he did not know what to reply to. - I have most of your records.

   - Thank you. - was all he could say. 

   - Why, thank you Theseus for noticing me. - Y/N interjected, arms crossed and a playful look on her face. - Sebastian, this fanboy is my brother, Theseus. He often likes to pretend I don’t exist. 

   - Call me Theo. - he replied. Their parents were avid mythological readers so when their firstborn came along, they decided to name him after the mythical king and founder of Athens. He, however, immediately found a nickname to replace it, something Y/N never really decided to call him by. - So, what are you doing here? Sleeping with my sister or something?

   - No, I’d never do that. She’s a respectable woman and I wouldn’t dare ...

   - Chill. - he interrupted. - Save that for granddad. He’s the one who believes Y/N is innocent but I was there when she had a crush on Indiana Jones.

   - Why don’t we go freshen up. - she pushed Sebastian out of the garden before her brother could spill more secrets. She ignored the living room, having noticed how awkward the scene had been with her parents and grandparents. Y/N took the kitchen rout before climbing the stairs up to her bedroom.

Sebastian always had a thing to see other people’s childhood bedroom and Y/N’s was no different. She had a trophy stand which was no surprise for him, a few boyband posters along with some vintage movie posters. The thing he found funnier was the Phantom of the Opera mask hanging from the one of the windows.

  - 1st place at the Spelling Bee? - he lifted a bee shaped trophy from the stand chuckling at it. - Aw bunny, you’re a nerd.

  - Give me that. - she took it from him, placing it back on her shelf. She would be lying if she said she didn’t love her little trophy collection. - I’m really glad you came over.

  - Free time away from them with you ... - he placed his hands on her hand, moving her a bit closer to him. - Sounds like a real good plan for me.

  - Mh ... - she hummed, her hands on top of his. - I’m sorry about my grandpa. He’s a very ... old school man.

  - Elitist, you mean. 

  - He’s still my grandpa, Seb. Besides, I’m sure he’ll love you once he gets to know you.

  - Yes, because you obviously adored me when you first met me. 

  - Well, you did say that you loved when I talked dirty to you.

  - I’d still love if you talked dirty to me. - he placed his chin in the space between her shoulder and her neck, so close she could feel his breathing. Y/N once again got uncomfortable, pushing from him. Sebastian furrowed his eyebrows, putting his fingers against his forehead. - What’s wrong?

  - Nothing’s wrong. - she took her jacket off, hanging it on the two hanger screwed to the door. 

  - No there’s definitely something wrong because whenever I used to make any sex involving jokes you’d normally roll my eyes at me, not act like that. Is everything alright? - he questioned sitting on her twin bed. - You don’t need to tell me if you don’t want you. I just don’t want to hurt you or make you upset.

 - You’re not making me upset. - she sat by his side, hands on top of her legs.

 - Did I do something that annoyed you? You can tell me.

 - Sebastian, I’m a virgin.

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

The Captain’s Woman Part Eight

Previous Part | Next Part | Masterlist

Pairing: MirrorVerse!Pike x Reader Notes: Not beta-read Sorry this took so long to post! I hope everyone’s doing alright with all that’s going on 💜

Summary: Michael always told me that she was more concerned with my safety than my ‘feelings’. And she always said feelings like it disgusted her - like it was this mangy thing to be held at arm’s length until it could be properly disposed of, the way our Mother had me. 

It took every bit of restraint I had to not run over to Michael and cling to her like I wanted to. Such things were not done. Even when we were alone it was rare that Michael would indulge me in the affection that I so often found myself craving. At best I would get a hand on my shoulder, a pat on the cheek. If Mother had been particularly harsh to me, then I’d get a hug - light, brief. Michael always told me that she was more concerned with my safety than my ‘feelings’. And she always said feelings like it disgusted her - like it was this mangy thing to be held at arm’s length until it could be properly disposed of, the way our Mother had me. I stayed in my place, hands folded behind my back as Michael came further into the room. Michael and Marcellus saluted Pike, and he saluted in turn. “I’m glad to see that you’ve made it safely,” Marcellus greeted.  He reached for my hand, taking hold of it and pressing a kiss to the back of it. I arched a brow as he straightened. "I’m pleased you were able to join us,” He added, eyes drifting to Pike, a smug smile overtaking his lips. I could only imagine the glare Pike and fixed him with. “Shall we?” Marcellus gestured to the table. I glanced back at Pike as he pulled my chair out for me, giving him a small nod. Before he could settle into one of the chairs closest to me, Marcellus and Michael took them up. Pike stiffly walked around the table, taking the seat that was opposite mine. I bit my tongue, trying to fight my amusement at his disgruntlement. --

Dinner went far better than I thought it would. I had anticipated a stony silence, stilted conversation, but Pike, Marcellus, and Michael all loosened up - to a degree. They discussed their greatest battles, teased each other about their losses, toasted the empire. I felt like I was back on my Mother’s ship, at her dinner table, but there was so much less weight on me here. I could feel Michael casting me looks now and again, silently checking in on me, eyeing my glass when it got too low and gesturing for the kelpien waiting on us to refill it, or to bring me another portion of food. This was how it had been when I was on the Shenzhou - this was what I didn’t have on the Enterprise, and it made me ache. -- “You don’t seem unhappy,” Michael commented. I shook my head, sitting on the windowsill and crossing my legs, the slit of my dress revealing a fair amount of thigh. Michael remained standing, and quirked a brow at my attire. “And you seem to have a better handle on your place than the last time we spoke.” I swirled the amber liquid around in my glass, glancing over at where Pike and Marcellus were in conversation. “I’m not sure I’d call it a better handle,” I admitted. “It’s gotten around that you had a run-in with the Klingons,” Michael commented, “And it got back to Mother that you were instrumental in saving Pike’s life.” I hesitated, glancing at the other two captains again.  “Has it gotten back to Mother that Ryan tried to have me killed?” I asked quietly. Michael’s face darkened and she lowered herself down beside me. “Who told you that?” She asked lowly. “Pike. Said Ryan paid someone in his transporter room to ensure I wouldn’t be beamed back to the Enterprise with the rest of the crew.” I lowered my eyes into my glass, swirling the drink around still. “You believe him?” Michael asked. “Yes,” I said. “You trust him?” She pressed. I did, but I had to pretend to consider it for a moment, lifting my head to look at her. “... He’s had ample time to send me back to you and Mother. When he realized I was trapped on that ship, he came after me himself.” Michael leaned back, considering. “He cares for you,” She surmised. I shrugged. “Or he was feeling territorial, concerned Ryan may take the opportunity to get me onto the Saragollas to curry favor with Mother. Regardless, he has me in his corner...For the time being. But he told that he trusts me,” I tacked on before I brought my glass up to my lips, taking a sip. Michael appeared to be considering this in silence, but I could see her staring Marcellus down. When she murmured, “He’ll be punished accordingly,” I knew she wasn’t talking about Pike. She turned her head to look at me again. “If you had a choice, would you return to the Shenzhou now?” She asked. I frowned. This was not the sort of question that Michael would ask me lightly; this was either a test or an offer. It was possible that she would report back to Mother, and I wasn’t sure I could trust her to fib a little like she used to, especially if news of my ‘exploits’ had gotten back to the Emperor. But if it was an offer, if Michael really would let me simply beam back with her - not even bother sending for my things, she could always get me new ones... I let me mind and my gaze drift to Pike. He was leaning against the wall beside the display case Marcellus was gesturing toward. I eyed the typically stern set of his brow, watched the tension in his shoulders as he listened to the other captain, and turned away as I felt him turning to look at me. Despite the fact that being closer to Michael would give me a level of comfort, I had grown... Oddly fond of the Enterprise. I knew its decks now as well as I knew the Shenzhou’s; the crew no longer skirted around me like I had some disease or averted their eyes like I was terrifying to look upon. And Pike. Though firm and stern with his crew, since our encounter with the Klingons, he’d been softer with me. Willing to speak more openly, not just about goings-on on the ship but about frustrations with crew members. He touched me more easily - a hand on my arm, on my shoulder, my cheek; holding my hand as sleep found both of us; curling around me when we slept. Fear curled in my gut as I shook my head a little. “No,” I told Michael, “I wouldn’t.” -- I trailed behind Pike quietly, hands clasped behind my back as I peered around the trophy room. Ryan had offered Pike one thing from his ship as a reward for taking out the scouting party in the Pergamum, and Pike had yet to choose. I watched as he stepped up to a shelf, scanned its contents, then turned away, uninterested. He glanced back at me, brow quirked at the distance I kept. “You’ve been quiet,” he commented. “Have I?” I asked. “Markedly.” I shrugged a shoulder in response, lips twitching into a smile as he scoffed and turned away from me to inspect another shelf. “... I didn’t have much to contribute to the conversation,” I said after a few moments. Pike frowned at that, turning his attention away from the shelf. “I wouldn’t say that.” “I would. Did, in fact,” I countered, coming to a stop beside him. Pike looked over his shoulder and, finding the doorway empty, reached out. He slid a finger along the slit of dress, finger catching the fabric at the apex. He dragged his fingertips up over my thigh, revealing more skin as he touched me. I held perfectly still, eyes on his fingers as I felt my face flushing. “I’m sure someone that walks around with...” His fingers stopped at the holster on my thigh, “A knife strapped to their thigh would have more than enough to contribute to the conversation. I think you’re afraid of ruining your reputation of being the quiet one, especially with the possibility of Ryan reporting back to the Emperor.” I held Pike’s gaze for a few moments. “You mean like you do?” I asked quietly. Pike tipped his head to the side.

“I do not make contact with the Emperor unless she makes it with me first.” I lowered my eyes from his. “You need to pick something,” I said, stepping around Pike and ignoring cool fabric that settled over my flushed skin as I walked to another shelf. “I don’t want any of his trinkets,” Pike grunted, following me. “What were you and Captain Burnham discussing?” I turned around to face Pike, folding my arms across my chest. “Whether or not I was happy on the Enterprise,” I said. A look of surprise passed over Pike’s face; whatever he’d been expecting, it wasn’t that. “And what did you say?” He asked after a moment. I rolled my eyes. “If I had told her I was unhappy, she never would’ve let me leave the room with you. She’d either be giving you an earful or she would’ve beamed me off of the ship with her and back to the Shenzhou. Can we go if you’re not going to pick anything?” I implored, fighting the urge to stomp my foot like a child. Pike didn’t say anything, just held a hand out to me. I took it, expecting him to lead the way out of the room, but instead he pulled me against his chest. “I felt it before, you know,” He said quietly, before I had a chance to question him, “When you were looking at me.” I felt my flush deepen, and it took everything in me to not look away from him. "You looked at me, too,” I retorted. Pike shook his head. “I looked at you all night,” He murmured. I lowered my eyes from his. “Michael will come looking for us,” I warned softly. “What’s that matter?” Pike asked. “We won’t be interrupted on the Enterprise,” I pointed out, peering up at him from under my lashes. Pike’s smile widened to something warm, something sweet that I’d never seen. I surged up, pressing my lips to his softly. Pike’s hand cupped my jaw as I made to lean away, thumb stroking over my cheekbone tenderly. We broke apart as I heard footsteps approaching, and I pushed at Pike’s chest, taking a couple of steps away from him. Michael appeared in the doorway, brow raised. “I trust everything is alright?” She asked brusquely. Pike turned to look at me for a response. I glanced between the two of them before I addressed Michael: “We’re quite alright. The captain is making his selection. We’ll rejoin you shortly.” Michael gave a firm nod, eyeing Pike once more before disappearing. “I warned you,” I commented once she had gone. Pike grunted in response. I felt him watch me as I walked over to a shelf lined with books. I scanned the titles before I picked one out - Pride and Prejudice. Pike raised a brow, stepping closer and taking the book from me, scanning the title. “You know it?” He asked. “No.” “Then why this?” “Because I want it,” I said simply, “Indulge me.” Pike hummed, turning the book over in his hands. “Something tells me I’ll be doing that a lot,” He muttered.

Tag list: @carietrekkie​

[fortune-fool02]

Got What You Wanted, Lost What You Had

Dio Brando x Deal-making Demon

This is @  atlantianchronicle idea so all credit belongs to them.

Please enjoy. 

He was a fool. Dio Brando was an absolute fool. In his desperation to remain in control, he had turned to the one person -no, it wasn’t a person, that meant it was human- that he should have stayed far away from. 

And that desperation was the very thing it craved. Now, here he sat, propped on a shelf like some kind of damn trophy. When Johnathan had used his Hamon strike on his body, Dio panicked, believing the best route would be to remove his own head to stop it from being destroyed like his body had been. As he laid in the rubble, clinging onto life, he called out to the darkness, praying that someone would aid him. 

And someone did. The very same demon that had allowed him to take refuge in their palace. [Name]. A powerful demon that had often interacted with mortals and supernaturals alike. They had approached him when he was still weak from the Joestar estate’s fire, offering him a contract of sorts. They would offer him protection and security in exchange for his soul. At the time, it seemed a fair deal for Dio as he no longer needed his mortal soul, so they traded. And the contract binding them was sealed. 

At the time, Dio thought nothing else of it for it was harmless in appearance, that was one mistake. The way it’s lips curled into that twisted smile when he signed the contract was something he couldn’t forget; those sharp fangs that belonged in the mouth of a shark, that glow that illuminated their [Eye colour] eyes. All the warnings signs were there but, in his need for power, he was blind to them and now he was suffering for it. 

“You asked a great many favours Mr. Brando. But you didn't ask me to have Mr. Joestar killed. I know you are the sort of man to want that pleasure for yourself. And now. Now you come begging for more.” Those words echoed in his mind, their clawed hands picking his head up like it was a football and holding it close to their deathly pale face. “But you know the deal. Every exchange must have an equal amount. And the favours you are asking requires your immortal soul.” What? In exchange for their help again, he had to barter his immortal soul now? This demon certainly knew how to kick a man when he was down; but he had no other alternative, he needed their help or he was going to perish. He narrowed his gaze at them. “Oh don't look at me like that. You knew what you were asking when you signed the contract. Now you will be mine forever." 

And that led to him being displayed on the shelf like some kind of trophy. His crimson eyes locked on the demon sitting in the throne of a seat, feet propped up on the coffee table as it read from the book in his hands. A bored sigh was heard as it threw the book over its head, letting it fall somewhere. Their eyes locked and its expression brightened, as if happy to see Dio glaring at them. In seconds, they were standing in front of his jar, 

“Mornin’ sunshine.” they grinned and earned a scowl from Dio, not that it was effective without a body to fulfil any threat with. Damnit! [Name] pulled a cloth from their pocket and wiped off a bit of dust on the tank, “You're my new favourite you know? Next to that Caligula fellow. Ah so much entertainment you brought to little old me." There was a moment of fondness in their expression, the kind one had when recalling joyful memories. This thing found enjoyment in his humiliation.  

“As if I would do anything for your entertainment!” Its eyes widened at that, that grin lifting higher like an excited child and it infuriated him. It set the cloth aside, satisfied that it was clean enough now, and met his gaze again. 

“You see, that’s the thing, Dio.” Grabbing a chair, the demon pulled it over and sat on it, “Vampires are sooo much more fun than wicked humans because, well, humans have morals and a conscience and all that boring stuff. But vampires don’t. They like to think that they’re at the very top of the Pecking order,” It gave the blonde head a thoughtful expression, mocking him. “But they’re not.” 

[Name] rose from their chair and took the tank into their clawed hands, lifting it from the shelf. “The Pecking order is as so: You. The dirt. The worms inside the dirt. Shit. Humans. And me.” There was a glow that flared up in its eyes that Dio didn’t like, but the Pecking Order was what sparked his anger. How dare this thing claim he was lower than dirt! 

“I mean, look at you, all high and mighty with your new powers. You had the world at your feet, now look at you. No body of your own. No powers. Just a head in a jar like a fish swimming in circles.”

***

There was one thing you needed to know about this demon, Dio had learned, and that was not to let it grow bored of you. By offering as a source for entertainment, it kept you on display and alive. That was what Dio had learned a couple of days ago when he watched as the [Hair colour] demon took another head from the shelf and walked to the centre of the room where a table stood and set it down. 

“Ladies and Gentlemen,” it addressed them. All the other damned souls it had taken as trophies that decorated around the room. “Say goodbye to your friend here, he just couldn’t keep up with his acts.” 

Dio’s confusion soon melted away when he caught the first glimpse of the sunlight that began to spill into the room, cutting straight over the table and over the vampire’s head. Agonised screams fell silent as the head crumbled away into dust, the cries, sobs and screams of the others filled its place. Dio only stared in horror, this demon was brutal. Absolutely brutal. 

It just killed a vampire because it grew bored of them. Now, Dio couldn’t say anything as he did that with his servants but this demon was something on a whole different level.

***

It was quiet. Disturbingly quiet. Ever since the night before, [Name] had been sitting in its little throne silently, [Eye colour] eyes staring at the blank wall like a statue. It unsettled the blonde head. [Name] as only ever been this quiet when it was thinking about something, or when the boredom began to kick in. 

A low sigh slipped its lips as it stood up and began to approach Dio. His crimson eyes narrowed at them as they took his jar into their hands. “What’re you doing?” he demanded, only to get silence as a response. Though his question was answered when [Name] turned on their heel and started to walk over to the table. Fear plucked at Dio when he realised what it was planning to do. 

“No, no, no! Don’t do this to me, [Name]!” his begs fell upon deaf ears as the demon set the jar down onto the table, lining it up perfectly of where the sun’s light would fall. The first rays of light beginning to peek over the horizon, “[Name]! P-Please, I’ll do anything!” 

The rays grew brighter, the light spilling onto the ceiling and rapidly crawling down the walls towards the table. As the light was about to touch him, a shadow appeared in front of him, the force slamming the window shut with a deafening slam that shook the wall. 

Bright [Eye colour] eyes glowed, piercing into his crimson ones, “I like how you beg. Do it again.” The vampire looked up at the demon, fear flickering in his mind, knowing that if he didn’t do as told, then it would open the window again and let the light spill in. But that didn’t mean it was not humiliating for him. He was supposed to be a God in all but name, and now he was begging for a demon.

“I.... I...” He closed his eyes for a moment, feeling shame wash over him. “I beg of you.” The smirk that lifted [Name]’s lips made Dio feel so much pathetic that he already did. This demon took so much enjoyment from watching his misery and humiliation. 

“Good. Remember the Pecking Order, Dio.” It told him, patting the top of the jar as if to pat his head like a dog. “Recite it to me.” How much further was this demon going to drag him into the ground? A low growl left his gritted fangs, eyes glaring at the floor in defeat. 

“You. Humans. Shit. Worms inside the dirt. The dirt. And....” [Name]’s eyes widened slightly, leaning in closer with anticipation to hear the words fall from his lips. 

“And....?” Dio glared at the demon again. The words leaving his mouth with a burning venom.

“Me.” 

[winchester90210]

The BH 90210 Rewrite. 1x20: Spring Training.

Rewrite Masterlist

Read the previous chapter here!

Chapter Summary: Alongside Brandon, you take a dive into the world of little league. 

Word count: 2,000

Warnings: Swearing, brief mention of violence. Also... I know nothing about baseball.

A/N: Hi everyone! Hope you enjoy this week’s episode! Took an extra week off to focus on my mental health and am feeling much better with everything now. I hope you guys are as excited as the next chapter as I am! It’s almost time for the spring dance :)

My work is to not be reposted/republished, and/or edited without my expressed written consent. (Reblogging is great and encouraged!!)

Feedback is very appreciated and encouraged!! :)

-

"With my dad laid up, we need all the help we can get. We’re practicing today if either of you want to join in on the festivities," Brandon persuades the two of you as you round the corner of the Peach Pit to sit at your usual booth. The familiar scent of pie crust and burgers fills the air, instantly putting your soul at ease. 

"Thanks… but no thanks, slim," Dylan rejects him, sliding into the seat opposite of you while Brandon follows suit. 

"Dylan, I thought you were a total baseball freak!" You tell him.

"I am, but listening to these parents berate their kids from the sidelines all day long," he shakes his head, cringing, "Brings back a whole slew of bad memories."

"But it shouldn't be about the parents!" Brandon protests, "It should be about being on a team, learning fundamentals, having a good time!" 

"That's very noble, Brandon. But when I was playing? It was about winning at any cost necessary.” Dylan argues. Brandon sighs in defeat, looking to you.

"What about you, Y/N/N?" 

"Not a chance,” you laugh. 

"What? Why not?" 

"Brandon… me and 20 kids, in an extremely competitive state? Did you learn nothing from the summer of '85?" You jest. Brandon chuckles at your extreme rejection, sliding a laminated menu your way. 

"Wait… what happened in '85?" Dylan's eyes flicker cluelessly between the two of you, awaiting an explanation.

"Look, it was no big deal. Things got a little heated during one of Eric's little league games," you shrug dismissively, flipping through the Peach Pit's menu as if you didn't get the same thing every time. 

"She beat up a nine-year-old,” Brandon quips.

“I didn’t beat up a—“ you pause, taking in a breath. “To put it simply I… put a kid back in his rightful place. He was picking on my brother, nothing happened that he didn't deserve." 

“What’d you do, tackle him out on the field?” Dylan lifts his eyebrows, amused smile on his face.

“No, of course not!” You duck your head back into your menu, mumbling, “I went out there and hit him in the groin with his bat.” 

-

The kids run out into the field, taking their positions with their needed equipment in hand. You lean back onto the warm metal fence, slipping a pair of sunglasses over your eyes to get a better look at Nat’s team. Without the glaring sun in your eyes.

“This is pathetic!” A young boy, adorned in a bright yellow Dukes uniform comes hurdling out from behind the fence to join Brandon and Steve. “They’re not even wearing uniforms!” 

“So what?” Brandon shrugs, voice hardened, “It’s a practice game.” Steve leans into Brandon to whisper something to him, but since he lacks the levels of common decency that most people acquire by the age of five, he talks loud enough for the whole team to hear. 

“They don’t look so good, Brandon.” 

“It’s okay. They came to play, that’s the important thing.” Man… sometimes Brandon felt too good to be true. You’re convinced there has to be a catch at this point. Gorgeous, smart, great with kids. What’s next? He opens up an animal sanctuary for underprivileged strays? Buys a soup kitchen? “Listen up, you guys. The way you treat your competition is a direct comment on how you play the game. Good sportsmanship counts big time with me and my old man…” as he continues to ramble on, your thoughts begin to shift elsewhere. Like how good he looks. It’s purely criminal for anyone to look so hot in yellow. It’s an inherently unattractive color. Yet, there he is—coaching children in the blazing heat, instilling them with good sportsmanship, and all you want to do is to get him to yourself. That bastard. You shake it off, chalking it up to teenage hormones, and try to focus on the game.

“Hey doofus! You really eat toads!” The same kid whining about uniforms earlier is now directing all of his pent up privilege and ten-year-old angst towards the poor, sweet, small child from Nat's team, the Pitts, further solidifying your desire to never procreate. 

“You’ll throw it better next time, Manny!” Nat encourages the little boy wholeheartedly, clapping for him as loudly as he can. 

“Hey Corey! Throw it to the doofus, he’s a real toad!” Does this kid only know two insults? The smaller brunette, the less athletically gifted child hangs his head, kicking sand around the base plate in frustration. Brandon takes note of it, immediately bounding out into the middle of the game.

“Time out! Crawford, get in the game for Noah!” His voice is stern, and as he approaches the boy he’s in total coach mode. It’s kinda hot... Well, it’s not your fault baseball’s boring. Gotta keep yourself entertained somehow.

Steve stops Randy Crawford from going out from the fence with the back of his hand, and going after Brandon himself, sand slipping from under his shoes. You can’t hear what they're saying but you know it’s not the happiest conversation. Knowing them, you know exactly how this is playing out. You don’t even need to hear them. You can see Steve furrow his brows from the sidelines, and Brandon’s gesticulating with his hands wildly as they talk but can’t make out any words that are flying from their mouths. Brandon, the moral center of Los Angeles wants Noah out for being a little jerk. Steve, being Steve, would probably rather keep the better player in than save the self esteem of a little boy before it’s too late and it no longer exists. It’s not long until Brandon pats Steve hard on the shoulder, storming off the field in a blur of sand and sweat.

Well, that’s your cue to leave, isn't it? You go to follow Brandon out, but Steve stops you short. 

“That boyfriend of yours is a total Boy Scout,” he spits. 

“Well, someone’s gotta be," You scoff, eyes rolling, ”They’re just kids, Steve! This isn’t Major League Baseball. There’s no trophy, there’s no prize. There’s absolutely nothing at stake here. What they need to be doing is having fun, and while that snot-nosed little jerk is out there on the field, they’re all gonna be miserable.” 

-

You flop down onto Dylan's couch, feet up on the armrest as he grabs a soda from the fridge and parks himself on the ottoman beside you. You exhale, eyes fluttering shut for a moment.

"Rough day out with the little leaguers?" 

"Rough day out with Steve," you snort. “I’m so used to being around Brandon I forget that people like Steve Sanders even exist.” 

“Come on, Steve isn't that bad."

"Dylan, you're talking about the guy that got carjacked by a girl he was trying to hook up with, and still bailed her out of jail--despite the fact she robbed him justminutes before--in the hopes of getting laid, only for her to steal his wallet." Dylan's face screws in a mix of amusement and total disbelief.

"Okay, so he's that bad," Dylan laughs. "Sorry to break it to you, Y/N/N, but not everyone is a part of the illustrious Walsh family."

"Not everyone can be," you tease. He gently tosses you a throw pillow from the chair across the room, and you use it to prop up your head. "It’s a tragedy.”

-

“See, what did I tell you? Isn’t he sweet? Isn’t he great?” Brenda watches as you comb through the stray dog’s long gray fur. He really is cute… wet black nose, shaggy gray hair, big puppy dog eyes. But you can’t keep him. “I think he likes you!” 

“Bren, as much as I’d love to take this puppy home, my parents would kill me!" 

“Just take him for a trial run, and if you like him, keep him!”

“Bren—“ 

“Please?” 

“Bren—“

“Come on!” She pleads.

“Fine! Okay, okay. I’ll see if we can take him in tomorrow night,” you concede, giving the dog one last pat on the head. Brenda squeals happily, a grin on her face as she wraps her arms around you. 

-

“He’s great! You’ll love him!” 

"Fine. See you later... Wally."

The four of you watch silently, perched up at the counter of the Peach Pit as Nat's baseball team chows down on slices of pepperoni pizza. We've got Nat to your far left, wondering how the hell they're going to survive against the team from Beverly Hills, then we've got Dylan to your left debating on whether to finally help Nat and shack up with the struggling team, Brandon to your right who hasn't lifted his hand from your upper thigh this whole time which is seriously distracting, and you, wondering how such little boys could devour so much pizza in so little time. 

"You know the improvement from one week to the next is remarkable." You mumble.

"Oh yeah… the kids are showing a lot of promise." Brandon nods absentmindedly, bringing his cup to his lips. 

"But…" Dylan begins, "you still need a pitcher that can put the ball over the plate." 

"Yeah," Nat sighs, "but win or lose, the most important thing is how good the kids feel about themselves." He's trying to convince you, but the more he talks the more you know he's trying to convince himself. 

"Absolutely." You agree. 

"Totally." Brandon nods. 

"Yeah, I mean, in the long run that's all that counts," Dylan shrugs, his voice coated with scepticism.

"Absolutely." Brandon concurs.

"Totally…” You say. “Y’know, I was talking to Andrea about this and she knows a pretty great player from the valley."

They all turn their heads, slowly, with Nat glancing from you to the phone. You roll your eyes at the boys, making your way over to the payphone. The group watches with bated breath behind you as you slip in the quarters and dial her number, waiting for her to pick up. 

"Hello?"

"Andrea, hi! Listen, uh, do you remember the other day? You told me you knew some kid in the valley who was a major blue-chip little leaguer?"

"Oh, yeah! Avery?"

"Yeah… Avery." You twist your head back, giving them a smile and a thumbs up. 

-

"What's Dylan doing? Bringing in a ringer?" Steve scoffs, twisting the metal bat in his hand as he cleans it. You exchange knowing smirks with Brandon as Dylan helps Avery get ready on the sidelines. She takes off her ball cap, releasing the foot of long brunette pony-tailed hair. Gasps are heard from center field, seemingly originating from Noah. Shocker.

"Oh my god! Dude, it's a girl!" He laughs out, adjusting his cap against the wind.

"Poor Dylan, he's really scraping the bottom of the barrel, huh?" Oh, if only you and that misogynistic head of yours knew, Steve-O. And surprise, surprise—Every pitch she's involved in ends up in a home run for the Pitts.

And little by little, much to your joy, Steve is getting progressively more aggravated— tapping feet, flaring nostrils, bugged-out eyes. You’re beginning to like baseball.

Eventually you make your way over to Brenda, off by the sidelines. You watch as they send Davey from the Dukes out, and Manny, the small, athletically challenged boy from the Pitts, isn’t far behind. Brandon perks up, calling a timeout to give what you can only assume is another one of his infamous Brandon talks to his team. After a moment the team breaks up, moving into their correct positions and as Manny chokes up on his bat ready to pitch. You cringe, hiding your face in your hand.

 But it's nothing short of a miracle as Davey throws the ball. It makes contact with Manny's bat, soaring across the field as he jets off across the bases. The catcher from the Dukes runs for the ball, tripping over his own foot and skidding across the grass. The whole team erupts into ecstatic cheers, rushing out and lifting Manny onto their shoulders. You know that Davey blew the pitch for him, you’ve seen him pitch a hundred times. But seeing the joy on that little boy's face, you knew that it didn't matter. 

"Poor kid," Brenda sighs, looking out to the opposite direction to Randy Crawford, the catcher that landed face-first into the grass. "I mean, he really gave it his best-- Wally!" 

"Wally? Bren, what're you-- oh my god! That is Wally!" Off in the distance, you can see the gray ball of hair hurdling towards the baseball diamond.

"That's not Wally! That's Rupert! It's my dog, he's back!" Randy gasps, watching in amazement as his shaggy mutt runs across the crowds and into his open arms. 

"Hey uh," Brandon comes to greet you, but is looking out into the field as well, "isn't that supposed to be your dog, Y/N/N?" 

"No, Brandon," Brenda shakes her head, light smile lacing her lips. "I guess that's Randy's dog…" You sigh, but seeing the little boy giggle with glee as Wally-- er, Rupert, laps at his cheek, there's no troubling emotions to be found. 

"I'm sorry, Y/N/N," Brandon laces his fingers with yours, grabbing your attention with a soft kiss to your temple. 

"I'm not," you assure him. You smile, the sight of the boy reuniting with his long lost dog something straight out of a movie scene. One last look and you turn away from the boy, eyes meeting your boyfriend’s. “Hey, Brandon... have a date for that dance yet?”

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