#the tenses change at some point I think rip

[hekateinhell]

Vamptember, Day 8

Armand/Daniel | Rating: M | Prompt: Movie | Word Count: 1897?

It started innocently enough, as these things were wont to do.

A similar curiosity that had driven twelve-year-old Daniel to hide in the closet with a flashlight and his father’s old nudie mags, now engulfed Armand—without the tempestuous cocktail of adolescent hormones and rages added in.

Perhaps.

Armand picking up Playboy at the newsstand. “These breasts… they appear different than they did in my day.”

“It’s plastic surgery, Armand.”

Armand picking up Playgirl at the convenience store. “Daniel, the men of today are remarkably well-endow-”

“Armand, please.”

Then came the sex shops. “What is this for?”

“It’s a butt plug, Armand.”

“But why would you want-”

“It feels good. Or so I’ve heard. And no.”

The porn theaters. “How intriguingly obscene,” he smiled. “An act for the public.”

Finally, the poor unfortunate souls Daniel was made to bed. Bitter yet proud, he performed as his puppeteer commanded. Armand in the background, in his own home theater—different film each time with an original cast.

Such a sweet murmur in Daniel’s head. “So beautiful, my Daniel. So strong, so hot-blooded.”

Ah, Armand loved his little jabs, didn’t he? Hot-blooded, indeed.

Not like Armand.

“And you’re a fucking cold-blooded cobra,” Daniel snapped as soon as Armand pushed their guest out of the door with a satisfied smile and a nod, like he’d just come out on top of brokering some covert deal.

And Daniel would never be quite sure if Armand used these exploits to live through him, or if he instead fancied himself the man or woman he’d hand-picked for the evening’s entertainment. Or both. Or neither.

Armand was a giving lover on occasion, having been no stranger to the pleasures of the flesh once upon a time. At least Daniel assumed, based on the obvious.

One early evening in a Vegas hotel, Daniel let Armand drag him out of bed. Shave him, shower him, offer him a piece of white bread and an apple from the room service tray.

“You will not require a doctor if you consume this fruit, correct?” Teasing, holding it out as if the red apple alone could atone for the drugs, alcohol, cigarettes, the nocturnal lifestyle Armand forced on him.

Armand stared as Daniel brought the apple to his mouth and bit in. The crunch sounding loud in the hotel room, the juice running down his chin. Armand lunged over the glass table and wiped it away with a curl of his index finger.

As it so often did when Armand moved at a superhuman speed, Daniel’s brain reacted by staggering everything else around them in slow-motion to compensate for the difference.

His mind was still on a stuttering lag when Armand announced, “I want to make a pornographic film.”

Daniel choked.

“What?”

Armand had the animated glow in his eyes that promised nothing good, coming to sit beside him on the red velvet sofa, sliding his hand up Daniel’s thigh, his glassy nails grazing the silk fabric. “I want to make a film like the ones they sell in your provocative little shops.”

“Oh yeah, and who will you be? Bystander number three?” Daniel quipped, irritated. Resenting the reminder that his body didn’t belong to him, not anymore. The bits of apple in his mouth felt gritty, ashy.

Armand laughed, so hard it almost sounded like he would have to catch his breath. Of course, he wouldn’t. A sound Daniel loved because it made Armand sound human; a sound he hated because his brain the reminded that Armand’s inhumanity was, in fact, what he loved most about him.

“You misunderstand me, darling. I want you and I in the starring roles, and I want to record it and watch it on the television afterwards.”

Armand’s messing with him, had to be.

Daniel had seen Armand naked, touched him—if not intimately, then in intimate places.

But it’s oddly clinical, Armand laying there motionless while Daniel tries desperately to incite some recollection of a passion or response from him.

Craving the validation of… something.

Poking, prodding, kissing, and licking until he gets frustrated to the brink of alcohol-and-barbiturate-induced tears, and Armand throws him a bone and guides him up to his neck.

“There, there, my beautiful boy, it’s not all bad. This, at least, contains a semblance of life.” Daniel nuzzling against Armand’s pale throat, licking at the tiny wound he has made for him, whimpering like a pathetic infant while Armand strokes his hair.

Armand wanted to film that, watch it on repeat like on twelve different screens he had Blade Runner, with nonstop commentary?

He could just go straight to Hell, probably had a 5-star penthouse suite waiting for him.

“It’s too early for your goddamned shit, Armand,” Daniel took a swing of his beer, bent down so his face was mere inches away from Armand’s seemingly innocent one.

Wagged a finger right under Armand nose, like he was scolding an obnoxious child. Derogatory, disrespectful, dangerous, and he knew it.

Yet, the deafening alarm bells that would’ve once told him to get his hand the fuck away from the crocodile’s mouth had long ago eroded from sheer neglect.

Let Armand bite.

Daniel wanted him to.

Armand didn’t seem bothered and unfortunately, Daniel knew good and well when Armand was bothered. He stared up at him with his usual unique mixture of mild boredom and genuine amusement. Lips parted, allowing his tongue to peek out and graze his bottom lip—a house-cat that’s had the same feathered toy shaken in his face.

“It’s my morning hour too, Daniel,” Armand breathed out, patient and affectionate. Placating.

Merciful today, huh?

“And I say it is not too early.”

And what Armand says, goes.

Daniel wasn’t so drunk that it wasn’t starting to make sense… Armand loved filming all sorts of things. Interviews with random people on the street, himself staring at the camera for hours on end, his hair growing back in his sleep. So, of course, why wouldn't he want to create a film like this? It was the natural course.

“Fuck you, Armand.” It's sort of a joke when he says it.

Armand clapped his hands together, a gesture Daniel’s come to associate as having the fraught potential to translate into raw meat smoothies and pet store mice being flushed down the toilet, amongst other, far worse things.

“Yes beloved, that’s the whole point!”

—

Armand’s completely naked and Daniel’s a twenty-five-year-old—of course, he stares, shamelessly.

“Daniel? Daniel?” Armand’s tinkering with the video camera. They’re both bare-assed on the bed, Daniel leaning against the headboard, Armand by his legs, sitting up, frowning with a perplexed expression on his face.

He handed Daniel the bulky thing, “Tell me what you suppose is the best angle to capture the point of insertion.”

The point of-

Daniel snorted, borderline choked again. Armand loathed being laughed at but sometimes it simply couldn’t be helped. He glanced at Armand’s artificially flushed face, thrilling at the rosiness in his lips and cheeks—more than one person died for that—and was surprised to see the corners of his mouth quirking up, barely, as if he were seeing the humor in this too.

A certain self-conscious sort of curiosity and excitement that reminded Daniel of his first time. And in a way, it was—his first time fucking a vampire.

Christ.

Armand stared at him, a slight lift to his auburn eyebrows, as if he couldn’t and wasn’t presently reading the thoughts rattling around Daniel’s skull.

“It will be my first time fornicating with a human since I have been one myself.” Those words actually come out of Armand’s mouth in a soft murmur, accompanied by a filthy smirk that passes as soon as it comes.

And now Daniel’s alert, because that’s a lot of information packed into one monotone sentence. Information that Daniel isn’t sure what to do with, what Armand wants him to do with.

Armand’s so cavalier, coming to kneel on the bed, summoning him closer with a languid wave of his right hand, rings flashing in the bright light of the hotel suite.

He’s figured out the camera now, standing with his back to Daniel while he adjusts the tripod a little to the left, a little more to the center, just right.

Daniel’s reclining on the a pile of red satin pillows, wishing to God he had a cigarette in his mouth right now. He should be fucking esacstic, borderline delirious with arousal right now. Fucking Armand had become a fanstay that lurked just out of reach when Armand came to lay naked beside him after the evening’s entertainment had departed or been disposed of for the leaving.

Daniel learned not to question when Armand deigned to escort their guests back on to the street instead of merely to the front door. A wicked, playful glint in his dark eyes when he would return from the streets, his clothes slightly rumpled, smoothing down his hair.

He could have done that before entering; he opted to right himself in front of Daniel—the implication as heavy and loaded as Daniel imagined the fresh, warm blood now surging through his lover’s body, his heart. His cold, dead heart.

“Not cold right at this moment, Daniel,” Armand sighed, bringing Daniel’s hand to rest over his bare chest, above the heart pumped full of stolen blood.

“I can feed you, sustain you,” Daniel had whispered once, reverent, almost possessive—not realizing in the moment how naive he sounded. “Oh, my Daniel…,” Armand looked almost mournful, as he dragged the sharp edge of a nail through the dark blond hairs on Daniel’s chest, his nostrils flaring as beads of blood blossomed to the surface.

“How sweet,” he mused, bending down to lick up the trail he’d made from Daniel’s abdomen to his clavicle. “How I wish that you could. I would love that your blood alone could nourish me.”

The Armand in Daniel’s memory, sucking at his skin to absorb the last taste of blood—the Armand that had crawled behind him naked to wrap his arms around Daniel’s middle, caging him to himself—seemed absent tonight.

There was no sensuality in his words, no captivated delight in his eyes, none of the inherent seduction in his movements. And when Armand straddled his thighs, handing Daniel a small bottle of lube, did the nasty thoughts start to take hold in Daniel’s mind—this was a project to Armand, as detached and clinical as dissecting a household appliance.

As divorced from intimacy as he was staring himself aimlessly in a funhouse mirror, eyes enormous and unblinking, head tilted to the side, lips barely parted for the breaths he forgot to take.

“Do it,” Armand commanded.

“Um, yeah, sure,” Daniel shook his head, trying to break up the thought that hasn’t fully registered yet to the point that Daniel might not be able to perform.

Oh, heaven help him if that were to happen. As he lubed up two fingers, Daniel considered the possibilities: would Armand decide to give him a larger dose of the Blood over the couple droplets he usually offered, so little yet just enough to bestow upon Daniel his ritual communion?

Would Armand instead request Daniel consume a chemical aphrasodic, coke or ecstasy at the ready?

Armand rolled over onto his back, pulling his knees up to his chest in a motion that’s too fluid, too instinctive. Daniel’s stomach flipped but he’s been subdued, broken in for now. A docile pet.

A hidden warmth in Armand's eyes starting to make itself known. Not so clinical after all, perhaps.

Good boy, Daniel.

[lovifie]

Simon was in complete awe of your captivating persona from the very beginning. He always imagined you as a serene, well-read, and graceful princess. Your persona was so angelic that he believed you descended from the heavens. He assumed you were born with a silver spoon in your mouth, surrounded by opulence and luxury. But all of his preconceptions changed when he met your parents at a family dinner. To his surprise, your dad was a retired veteran colonel, and your mom was a retired military pilot. They were acting cruelly…hell even the children at the dinner…The realization hit him like a bolt of lightning, that you and your siblings were raised to be soldiers, and your training began from childhood….

This is the second time I write it because the only time I chose to write directly on Tumblr.com it bugged and deleted it (I wanna rip my eyes off) Hope that you like it 🩷

Extra bit - Extra bit x2

It was a dinner arranged by your parents, the whole team was invited. You thought about not saying anything, keep to yourself and tell your parents the team said no. But they would read right through you, and the moment you mentioned the team was sold.

Now, Simon used to think that you came for an extremely wealthy family. That you joined the military in an act of rebellion, that you could have easily chosen an easier job because you wouldn't have to worry about money in your life. You always move so gracefully while fighting, always so serene when talking, he had yet to see you cry or get mad. Almost like a porcelain door.

What he didn't know was that it was simply a mask that had been forced upon you by your parents. And it was during the dinner that he started to see the little cracks.

He finally saw you be tense, every thread of your person pulled to their limit ready to snap. He understood why you always seemed so relaxed under Price's orders. In comparison to your parents, the man was a loving mother. At some point they even expressed their doubts even of the captain's abilities. He didn't even want to think about how much self doubt they have helped you form.

It slowly started to make sense, how he would never see you in the mess hall. Always working, always training, always practicing, always studying, always getting better.

He looked at your siblings, younger, worse at hiding their emotions. He could see their tiredness, their fear of your parents. You have seated yourself between your father and your siblings. Trusting more to seat them next to Ghost than your own parents.

Your youngest sibling was sitting next to him, and when he noticed them looking up to them he looked back. The kid didn't even look away, and Ghost winked at them making the slightest smile appear on his tiny face.

“We are eating.” Your mother chastised, your sibling face terrified as he went back to eating. It didn't escape him the way you jump, not the slight disgusted expression it put onto your father when you did.

He standed up, motioning you to follow him outside. You panic for a second, forgetting that you no longer lived in your parents house and didn't need to be afraid. You slipped through your father's hand, walking behind the lieutenant when he went outside to have a smoke. You sat on the floor, sighing and with tears pricking your eyes from the frustration.

Ghost asked you about it, and you finally let go of it all. You told him about how your parents believe that dying at war is the most noble way out, how the only job valid for them was in the military, how you have never seen them cry, how you were sure that they would never cry if you died, everything.

By the end of it, you were hugging his leg, your head resting on his thigh as he rubbed your head with his hand consoling you.

“Wait here.” He threw the cigarette to the floor, stepping on it and went back inside.

A moment later the four men were out again.

“C’mon, kid.” Price said with a smile on his face. “There's an emergency, let's go.”

Just when you were standing up, drying your tears the door opened.

Your siblings walked out, giggling each with a backpack. “We heard the world needs saving, shall we go?”

And then, with your team and your siblings, you went into the most rundown, almost destroyed pub. Ate the most greasy food that you were certain would give everyone food poisoning and went on to have the best family dinner of your whole life.

[chaotic-iguana]

HI OMG UR FICS ARE INTOXICATING WTH!!!

Can I please req a Din Djarin where he and the reader are travelling together and reader is bubbly/sunshine personality and then she admits her feelings and Din doesn’t reciprocate at first.. then her personality changes and she’s all sad and he can’t stand it!!!! Cause he does love her and he can’t bare to see her that way!!!

Super angst and fluff please 😭😭😭😭 THANK H IF U DECIDE TO WRITE THIS 🤍🤍

HELLO THANK YOU SO MUCH!! ofc im writing anything u request lysm ur the best plus the prompt is so adorable ahufsdkfjhfs. just to try sumth new, im gonna switch it up and do this one from din’s pov. lmk what you think!!

Enough

Summary: Din rejects reader when she confesses her feelings to him even though he feels the same, only to regret it later.

Pairing: Grumpy! Din x Sunshine! Reader (no use of y/n)

Wordcount: 2.6k

Warnings: none, just a lot of angst and fluff

masterlist

——————————————————————————————————

Din Djarin was not a good man. He was aware of this, which is why he was careful not to get to close. Not to taint things with his darkness; the destruction that seemed to shadow him wherever he went. He learned to turn his head away when you sung softly to the child, to clench his fists and keep himself from reaching for you when you giggled at your own terrible (adorable) jokes, to steel himself against your pleas to purchase every single fuzzy fabric you saw, no matter the form. Socks, blankets, shirts, trousers, even a kriffing hat, which Din stopped and let you buy just to stop the stares he was getting from people at the way you were practically jumping in your spot, pointing at the shop’s display. 

But despite his best wishes, Din was not a strong man, either. Not as strong as he needed to be, to resist you. You, with a beaming smile that never failed to make him blush under his helmet; with tender, caring hands that looked so soft that Din wanted to rip his beskar off so you could brush them against him, just once. Your hair, which smelled so sweet that Din could catch traces of it through the beskar. Your eyes, almost siren-like when you blinked up at him while rambling away about something. The way you scrunched your nose with a snort when you couldn’t hold in a laugh. The fact that you had never, ever asked for his name - or an explanation of his helmet, for that matter - even when he knew you hadn’t heard of Mandalorians before. The lilting notes of laughter in your voice before you turned to him with a sly smile, offering him with a witty quip he would have killed others for voicing, before throwing back your head and howling. No, Din was nowhere near strong enough to stand a single damn chance against you. 

He could hear you humming to yourself and the baby while you heated some broth, stopping to lean down and pepper kisses all over Grogu’s face as he cooed happily. Walking into the cockpit, he grunted in acknowledgement of your “Hey, Mando! Sleep well?” before turning to the child and nudging his helmet against his wrinkly forehead. When he turned around to see a gentle smile gracing your face in acknowledgement of the scene in front of you, he straightened up and cocked his helmet as if daring you to comment. 

He was itching for a fight: something, anything to stop the sweet torture of your presence which seemed to breathe life into your surroundings, no matter where you stood. You’d find a way to brighten a graveyard, Cyar’ika. Your smile tightened slightly before you presented him with a bowl of his own, brushing past him to take the child in your arms and leave the cockpit. Every muscle in his body was tense, his mind begging him to let you stay, to apologise for his hostility. To hear you prattle on about something menial while he ate, to revel in the domesticity of being with you. Not like that, of course. You were simply too good for him. Too perfect; too pristine. Your eyes too bright and your heart too soft for him to be worthy of your love. And so Din slipped off his helmet, ducked his head, and ate in silence.

He had noticed that lately, you still spoke to him, but you’d leave with the child more often. He could hear conspiratorial whispers sometimes, the child nodding and babbling his own input as if the two of you were hiding something. You weren’t awkward around him, per se, just less readily giving of your laughter, your jokes, your mindless chatter. All Din knew was that his mind would not rest unless he confronted you, and soon. A restless yearning for your erratic, unnecessarily bright gestures gave way to the anxiety spooling in his gut. Had you finally seen him for what he is?

So later that day, after the supply run when you had fed and put Grogu to sleep, he approached you in the cockpit. He shuffled uneasily behind you, shifting his weight from side to side as he waited for you to break the silence. But uncharacteristically, you just continued to stare into hyperspace without a word. When Din cleared his throat, you turned your head his way. But your gaze was flitting around; your hands fiddling nervously in your lap. Why were you apprehensive? 

“Are you…” Din swallowed, unsure of how to phrase his question, “okay?” Are we okay?You looked up at him then, your eyes wide with anxiety, before looking down at your lap again. Could you be…scared? Of me? 

But then you took a deep breath; the nerves fading from your face and giving way to a look of complete resignation, your shoulders slumping with the weight of inevitability. Your gaze met his visor, and he could see that your fingers were lightly curled into fists.

“I don’t really know how to do this, Mando.” Another deep breath. The colour has faded from your face and suddenly you seemed so small, folded in on yourself, that Din had never had to wrestle harder with his own self-control to stop himself from pulling you into his chest and holding you; comforting you, until you’re back to your bouncy self. “You know that I like most people, right?” He nods; you do seem to like and be liked by most people he’s come across, even the ones he would deem unworthy to so much as look at you. 

“I’ve always really enjoyed meeting new people, and making friends. Life is easier when you’ve got people, right?” You’re rambling again, but instead of the usual enthusiasm lacing your tone, crippling worry dripped from your every word. Are you leaving him? 

“I think-I know that I like you more than I like everyone else. Anyone else. I like everything about you more than I’ve ever liked about anyone else and I just…” you trailed off, gulping. “It feels like you and Grogu are my family, already. And I guess I just can’t help but wonder if you might want more than this, like I do. I-fuck it-I’m in love with you, Mando.” And then you’re shying away from him again, biting your lip as you search his visor for a reaction. 

You’re in love with him? This has to be a joke. Din waited for the catch, standing unmovingly in front of you as if waiting for one of your signature punchlines to come tumbling out of your mouth. When it doesn’t, he just gaped at you, his mind overwhelmed with too many thoughts to even say anything. A part of him had never been happier than this moment right here; never loved you more than right now. But the other, more dominant part of him was practically reprimanding him. And what now, idiot? Profess your undying love to her and subject her to a life as the wife of a bounty hunter? No comfortable homes, no proper vacations or even neighbors. A life on the run. With you, dikuit - a man who has never been loved enough to understand how to reciprocate. There is nothing you can give her. There is nothing you can do. 

Din bristled under your gaze, suppressing a wince at the words that came out of his mouth next. “You mean to tell me that you are in love with a man you have never even see the face of? A man who hasn’t even told you his name? Stop lying to yourself. There is no ‘family’. You are the child’s caretaker, and nothing more. It would be best for you not to forget that in the future.” He wanted to slap a hand to his mouth, to bite his tongue - anything, anything not to see the way you wilted in front of him as his words registered. You slumped further in the chair, shoulders curving inwards as you brought your knees to your chest to curl up into a protective position, as if he was hurting you. Frustrated by the fact that he could neither pull you in his arms to comfort you, nor find it in himself to continue spewing bullshit he didn’t mean, Din just turned and walked away. He pretended not to hear the muffled crying echoing through the ship that night. 

——————————————————————————————————

That had been three weeks ago. He’d gone for a hunt right after, returning within the week. What he found back at the ship made a part of him wish he wouldn’t have returned at all. Your eyes sat bloodshot on hollow cheeks, sunken in your face as dark blotches formed under them. You were quiet, even with the concerned child - all the singing, humming goneas if it had never been. Grogu kept gesturing to you when he father looked his way, as if asking what was wrong. Din knew what was wrong. He just didn’t know how to fix it. He couldn’t find it in himself to leave you alone again, so he’d been mumbling excuses to you each morning as to why he was still on the ship. You’d never answer, just offering him the barest dip of your chin. Din hadn’t just rejected you-he’d been cruel about it. And he hadn’t slept since the night he’d spat those pathetic words at you in an effort of self-preservation, either. The moment kept replaying in his head over and over: your initial nervousness, the words you’d said to him, and your wince at the ones he’d reciprocated with. 

But like he’d admitted: Din Djarin was not a strong man. For you; only for you, he would crumble. To see your usual cheeriness replaced by this emptiness nearly made his knees buckle. You’d stopped eating, too - quietly slipping your food to Grogu, whose concern was overridden by his constant hunger. He’d done this: out of fear of hurting you, he’d reduced you to a mere shadow of what you used to be by doing it anyways. Out of his fear of fucking it up, he’d gone and done that exact thing without even trying to make it work. It was unacceptable to him, to go without hearing your laugh or your jokes or your humming. Not to see you giggling with Grogu. Fix it then, dikuit. So he would. 

Din walked into the cockpit, picked Grogu up from his place on the floor, and whispered a soft apology to him before shutting him in his cot. Grogu, ever-understanding, had just pressed a claw to his helmet and nodded as if wishing him luck. Thanks kid, I’m going to need it. He’d seen your confusion when he had taken Grogu out of the cockpit, but youremained mute. Walking back towards you, Din could feel his chest hurting at the way your hands shook and your eyes glossed over when he got closer. 

“I’m sorry.” His words have no effect; a tilt of your head is the only proof you offer to show that you heard him. Ironic, isn’t it, to be at the receiving end of what I do to others all the time? “For how harsh I was. I didn’t mean it.” Your mouth opens this time, but he raises a hand to stop you. If he doesn’t get this out now, he never will. “I was the one lying to myself, not you. I fell in love with you a long, long time ago, ner’karta. But I was scared-still am-because I have nothing good to give you. Not like what you deserve. My creed alone means that I can’t show you my face until we get married. My job doesn’t allow me stability. I have never been…loved. I do not know how to love you properly. All I know is that it doesn’t feel like a good morning until you say it, that I feel myself flushing under my beskar when you smile at me, that I have to bite my lip to stop a chuckle when you tell me your jokes. All I know is that since you’ve come into my life and made it brighter, it seems I can’t face the darkness alone again. These past two weeks have been hell, cyar’ika. I cannot bear to see you like this. Please forgive me. I will drop you off anywhere you wish to go.” 

And then your face is twisting and you’re sobbing - large, shuddering sobs that alarm Din when they begin. He reaches a tentative hand out towards you slowly, giving you more than enough opportunity to slap it away. When you don’t, he steps closer and pulls you into his chest. As I should have done then. You shake with the force of your hiccups, and Din reaches to rip off his gloves before wrapping his arms around you, a warm hand coming to cradle your head against him. All he can say is a feverish repetition of “I’m sorry, I’m sorrymy love, please forgive me”. 

By the time your tears subside, you can hear sniffs coming from under the helmet too; his modulated voice cracking and giving away his own crying. “Y-you don’t get to-to decide for me. You can’t decide whether or not you can offer enough or whether you can love me properly or not. Just love me, Mando. All you have to do is try.” Your voice is so fragile, so tentative as you speak into his chest that Din’s heart aches at the pain he can hear in it. You continue, “I don’t need stability from you, nor do I need your name or face. To have your heart is enough.” And though you can’t see it, Din has to shut his eyes and brace himself against the weight of his own tears this time. His chest warming, butterflies in his stomach as he tucks you impossible closer.

“Like I said, cyar’ika, you’ve had it for a very long time.” And then you’re smiling again, as Din’s knees threaten to buckle from the force of emotion that wells up at the sight. You’ve pulled back from his chest, but stay close enough to graze his helmet with your nose.

“Is that so, Mando? Do I want to know how long?” You whisper back, somehow looking straight into his eyes despite the visor. 

“Din.” At your frown, he clarifies hesitantly. “My name, cyar’ika. Din Djarin.” You beam brighter, repeating it to yourself. “Wait - cyar’ika? You started calling me that last year, when you were annoyed I bought that fuzzy green hat with frog ear and Grogu tried to eat it on the way home. I thought it was like a swear word, or something -not that I think you would swear at me, you just seemed very annoyed, you know?”

A chuckle slips past his modulator, before he gives in completely. “Close your eyes, please.” When you comply, he rips his helmet off and cups your jaw with his hand, thumb stroking your cheek. Leaning in, he presses his mouth to yours gently, leaning back to look at you. “Beloved, cyare. It means beloved.” Before he can say anything else, your hands tangle in his hair, and suddenly you’re pulling him back into another kiss. And another. And another. 

You two remain so wrapped up in each other that you actually forget to leave the cockpit until Grogu stomps in, having apparently broken out of his cot, and begins babbling at you both angrily, before seeing the smile on your face after so long and hurtling towards you at full speed, nearly tripping on his robes in the process before you catch him in your arms. 

It was true, though. You didn’t need Din to go out of his way to give you anything. This was enough. 

hello loves, as always - thank you for reading. comment your thoughts or find me on ao3. stay hydrated and have a great day! taglist: @imherefordeanandbones @theywhowriteandknowthings, @josephquinnswhore

[55sturn]

✮ SNAP OUT OF IT CHAPTER 0.03

series masterlist!

pairings college student!matt sturniolo x college student!fem!reader

synopsis: in which tensions still run high, even after a week, and matt’s actions have frustrated y/n to the point of nearly snapping, so in a futile attempt to clear and ease her mind, she and jocelyn decide to attend a party, however she only leaves even more confused.

warnings: swearing, drug usage, nicotine usage [both reader and matt smoke cigarettes], alcohol consumption, parties, vomiting, implication of people hooking up, physical violence, verbal arguments, random guy being a creep, unwanted advances, i think that’s it!

important things to note: the part of the song that this chapter is heavily based around is “every time you try to forget who i am, i'll be right there to remind you again, you know me.” and you’ll see why !! also, povs will be changing again, starting with third and then it switches to reader’s pov, and back to third! each pov switch will be shown with a red header!

THIRD PERSON POV

for the most part, things in the dorm shared between y/n and matt, were tense. the air was thick every time the two of them were in the same room. it was a bearable feeling when jocelyn was acting as a buffer of some sort, but the second she left, it became palpable. it left a sour taste in both their mouths, but matt ignored it and preoccupied his mind with countless girls.

y/n was losing sleep over the constant sound of moans and curses leaving the space beneath the floor and bottom of matt’s door. she felt stressed, because between matt having very little concern for y/n at all hours of the night, he refused to acknowledge what had happened the first night there, or even in the past.

as the door slammed shut, y/n scoffed and left her room, stumbling into the kitchen with bleary eyes, grabbing a bottle of water and a muffin from the counter. as she peeled the paper from the muffin, matt stumbled in.

“damn, why don’t you wear clothes like that more often?” matt snickers, gesturing to the cropped, and thin, tank top and short silk sleep shorts y/n wore, making her roll her eyes.

“maybe next time you decide to blow out some bitch’s back, can you keep her from squealing like a dog in heat? some of us are actually trying to sleep.” she spits, throwing her muffin wrapper in the trash, turning to walk to her room.

“hey bug?” matt whispers, loud enough for y/n to hear, causing her to stop dead in her tracks, sending her heart shooting up to her throat.

“you do not get to call me that. you lost any right to call me that the night you called me a dorky fucking loser and that you could never be with someone like me, all because janae broke your heart.” she seethes, returning to her room, letting her door slam shut, making matt jump from the noise.

“i miss you.” matt whispers to himself, his heart twisting in his chest as he retreats back to his room.

following that day, the two didn’t talk much, nor did they even really spare a glance in the other’s direction. y/n was baffled at matt’s level audacity, she couldn’t wrap her head around him calling her “bug”, as if he hadn’t ripped her heart from her chest back in high school, as if he hadn’t tormented for four years, subtly trying to prove her self doubts.

matt wasn’t an idiot by any means, he was just as smart as y/n, if not smarter. but he was arrogant and he was ignorant. and he was an asshole. he learned a lot about her in a short time, the summer they met. but after he broke her heart, he acted like she was a stranger. he resented her because he fell in love with the moment they met, but then he met janae, and slowly forgot about y/n. until she confessed her feelings to him. he was angry about janae rejecting him, but he was angrier about y/n realizing her feelings too late. so he returned the pain janae inflicted upon him because it felt right.

he knew who y/n was from the moment he got his dorm assignment, he just felt that acting like he didn’t recognize her would prove something.

what would it prove?

he didn’t know. he spent so long acting as if she was a stranger to him, that if he kept it up, it wouldn’t give them any room to reconnect but his plan faltered the moment he saw how badly him pretending not to know her, hurt her.

matt was smart. he knew that. everyone knew that. but he also knew he was being stupid treating y/n the way he has when she didn’t even do anything. but he was as prideful as he was smart. and swallowing his pride was not something he was familiar with. every time she got an amazing grade, he felt proud of her, but he felt prouder of himself, he knew he could top her grade, and so he did.

what he didn’t actually know was that every time he topped her grade, it killed her because she thought she had finally accomplished the best she could do, and he blew by her without remorse and with ease, making her feel like she was never going to reach her best potential.

but she was sure that once her film and visual studies course started, she’d be the best in the class. but boy was she in for a rude awakening.

every time she tried to forget what matt meant to her, and who matt was to her at one point, it was as if he'd materialize out of thin air, reminding her that he was always going to be there, in the back of her mind, haunting every decision and thought she made. she felt like she couldn't breathe because of the memories shared between the two, the way he made her feel, because he was like a ghost that attached himself to her, feeding off her self doubt, and reminding her that she'll never be as good as him.

and for matt, she was a parasite in the depths of his mind. clinging to everything that reminded him of her. he couldn't see the colour yellow without thinking of her, no matter how badly he wanted to attach something else to it. he couldn't watch the movie, perks of being a wallflower, without thinking about how every time she watched it when she hung out with nick in high school, the two of them quoting the movie together. every thing he knew about her, stuck to the walls of his mind, unrelenting to let go, permanently altering the way he viewed things.

READER’S POV

i sighed as i called jocelyn for the fourth time, silently cursing her for always having her phone on do not disturb.

"hey it's joce, leave a message after the beep, and i'll get back to you when i can!" her voicemail message hums, followed by the aggravating beep.

"bitch can you please let me know if you left yet? there's a party tonight and i need to go, i need to get out of this fucking dorm." i groan, hanging up after leaving the message, and throwing my phone on the counter.

"since when did you become a party girl?" matt chuckles as he rounds the corner into the kitchen, adjusting the red fitted cap sitting on his head as he leans against the counter opposite to me, his arms folding across his chest, the low lighting hitting his face perfectly, showing off his deep features.

"since when does it matter to you what i do?" i spit, grabbing my phone and an apple, turning to leave when matt speaks up again.

"it always has, you know that." he whispers, his voice sending a shiver down my spine as i spin around, watching as he holds eye contact, trying to gauge my reaction as i scoff.

"i don't know what you are trying to get at here, but these mind games need to stop, matt." i snap, needing him to get over himself, and leave me the hell out of whatever his endgame was.

"alright, princess."

"can you stop being such a cocky douchebag for two minutes and take me seriously?" i groan, watching as he grabs the apple i held onto, his eyes never leaving mine as he takes a bite before placing it back in my hand.

"whatever you say, princess." he hums, winking at me before grabbing his cigarettes and lighter off the table, and heading out the door.

i stand there in the same spot, blinking a few times as i try to ignore the heat building in the pit of my stomach, trying to work through the shock of his actions. and more importantly, the shock of why his actions turned me on. my phone starting ring pulls me out of my shell shocked daze, looking down i see jocelyn’s contact picture flashing across my screen.

“hello?” i hum after sliding my thumb across the screen, waiting for her to speak.

“hi sorry my service has been shit all day but i’m here and i’ve got some shit for you, so can you come help me?”

“yeah i’m on my way.”

after a while of catching up, jocelyn and i began getting ready, wanting to stop by a restaurant a block away before hitting up the party that i was invited to by some random girls in the hallway.

“so where’s matt?”

“probably hooking up with some bitch.” i grunt, pulling up the red leather miniskirt that jocelyn had gifted me, followed by tugging up the zipper that lined the back. i tug the laces through the last few holes of the corset halter top i wore, tying them into a tight bow before turning to facing jocelyn.

“oh my god you look so hot!” jocelyn beams, tugging up the black leather pants she decided on, turning to check out her own ass, giving it a nice slap before laughing. she pairs her pants with a satin-esque strapless corset top, wanting to match with me but made sure we weren’t too matchy-matchy. she chose to pair her outfit with a pair of extra chunky platform boots, while i chose a pair of red platform sandals.

once we finished putting the final touches on our hair and makeup together, we made our way to the restaurant, deciding on walking because it wasn’t too far, and jocelyn insisted i get used to being in heeled shoes before partying in them.

as we sat at the table, waiting for our dinner, she kept looking at me oddly.

“what’s up joce?” i hum, taking a sip of my iced tea as she sighs.

“do you ever miss matt? i know you tell me that you don’t but i know you like the back of my hand, bug, i know you’re not telling me something.” she murmurs, watching with a concerned state as i sigh,

“bee, it’s not that i miss him, i just wish things happened differently i guess, but the more time i spend with him right now, the more i realize that i’m actually glad things turned out the way they did.” i mumble, fiddling with my straw.

“y/n m/n, i see the way you watch him sometimes.”

“jocelyn, let’s just drop this okay.” i snap, not meaning to get so angry but talking about matt always brought forth a visceral reaction, maybe it’s because i wasn’t as healed from everything as i tried to say that i was.

“you’re a shithead.” she laughs, knowing to take my anger with a grain of salt, she knows it comes from me not processing and healing from it the way i should be, and that i’m not actually angry at her.

the waiter brings the appetizer plate we had ordered, both of us giggling as picked our favourites and put them on the smaller plates, like we had done many times on many nights out with our fake IDs, making a mental note to always have some sort of food in our stomachs before getting drunk.

as we eat, we talk about all the party stories we could remember from high school, laughing as we recount every stupid drunk thing we did. after about an hour and a half, we decide it’s time to head to the party, seeing as it’s nearly ten already.

as we approach the fraternity that was hosting, we both snort at the scene in front of us, giggling at how it looks like something out of project x. we slowly make our rounds, spotting some people we went to high school with, as i’m looking around the crowd, i spot matt who briefly makes eye contact with me, smirking and turning back to the girl in front of him, before quickly snapping his attention back to me, his eyes trailing up and down my body, a mix of a shocked smile and smug grin toying at his lips before he looks away again.

despite that his attention was the last that i wanted on me, him doing a double take starts to fuel my confidence. i continue toward the kitchen, grabbing the vodka, a redbull for jocelyn’s drink, two red solo cups, a sprite, and some peach juice that sat on the counter. i begin to pour the vodka into both cups, and i’m about to pour the peach juice when i feel hands on my waist. i turn to find some guy i don’t know, he seems a bit older than most people here and a weird feeling begins to stir in the pit of my stomach.

“hey pretty girl, you got a boyfriend?”

“yeah i do, he’s over there.” i mutter, jerking my head in the direction where matt stood, watching as the guys nods, deciding to back off as matt watches from the corner.

i return to finishing the drinks, both of them basically being the same except that an entire 250mL redbull went into jocelyn’s drink. i throw my trash into the massive recycling bin before grabbing the cups, and bringing them back over to jocelyn who was talking to chris. i hand jocelyn hers, watching as she downs nearly half of it before staring at me, wanting me to do the same.

“hey chris.” i nod, quickly downing half of my drink to be on the same level as jocelyn, who laughs and claps like a proud mom.

i catch up with nick, while jocelyn and chris dance nearby, the two of them finally giving into their tension, both nick and i grimacing at the two of them shoving their tongues down each other’s throats. i began people watching, my eyes trailing back to matt, who’s already staring at me. i roll my eyes as he smirks, pulling the girl beside him so that she stood in front of him, the two begin making out and yet, matt’s eyes never leave me, causing another shiver to run down my spine.

“hey love.”

i look at nick with wide eyes i hear the same voice from before, i begin to feel uneasy again as i turn to face the guy, who seems to be unable to take a hint.

“hi?”

“come dance with me.” he grunts, his hand around my wrist, tugging me to the makeshift dance floor, his grip tightening around my wrist, causing me to wince as he spins me around, pressing my back to his front. i let him move my hips side to side stiffly as he forces me to grind against him, i can’t shake the uneasy feeling stirring inside of me, i let him take control, terrified of what he might do. after the song finishes, i pull away from him, letting him know i was going to find my friend before ducking into the crowd, hoping to make a clean break away.

as i stand outside on the deck, i begin to shake, i lean against the side of the house, watching the people in the yard, as i’m about to make my way back inside when the same guy steps outside, his grin turning sinister as he spots.

“got nowhere to run now, baby.” he chuckles, placing both hands on either side of my head, boxing me in, and the reality of everything begins to set in as i watch his eyes trail around my face.

“buddy, you should back the fuck off.” matt scoffs from beside us, causing the guy to pull back, momentarily knocking his focus, which gave me the opportunity to push him back and run toward matt, hiding behind him as matt stares the guy down.

“the fuck you looking at? i’ll kick your scrawny ass.” the guy spits, watching matt as he shrugs, flicking the cigarette between his fingers into the lawn before turning his hat around so that it sat backwards atop his head. the guy lunges at matt, which he dodges, swiftly landing a punch to guy’s stomach, causing the guy to double over in pain, which gave matt the upper hand.

matt knees the guy in the face, sending him flying back, and matt was quick to clamber on top of him, sending blow after blow to the guy’s face. my feet moved before my mind did, and i was quick to seek jocelyn out, grabbing her wrist and chris’ as well, dragging them over to matt as he kept beating the shit out of the creep that wouldn’t leave me alone.

“this guy started hitting on me and wouldn’t take no for an answer and matt was here and he got mad and starting kicking his ass, i don’t know what to do.” i sob, leaning against chris as he wrapped his arms around me. jocelyn was pissed as she hooked her fingers in matt’s collar, dragging him off the creep and pushing him back against the railing.

“matthew! fucking snap out of it, you’re making shit worse for y/n. she doesn’t need you playing hero when you won’t leave her the fuck alone or stop tormenting her.” jocelyn yells, slapping matt’s shoulder, causing him to scoff as he looks at me.

“a thank you would be nice, bug, i just saved your ass.” he laughs, causing jocelyn to slap him across the face this time.

“you don’t get to call her that, matt. quit trying to hurt her more than you already have.” jocelyn seethes, her voice low and thick with anger as she shoves matt towards the steps of the deck, watching as he stumbles down them.

i feel my breathing begin to pick up and tears prick my eyes, i look matt, watching as he lights another cigarette, shoving his hand in his pocket as chris and nick berate him for acting so stupidly on impulse. and as i walk ahead, i can’t stop the sob that’s forcing its way up my throat from escaping. i stop in my tracks, feeling jocelyn’s arms wrap around me as she leads me down the sidewalk, murmuring sweet nothings against my hair.

“why couldn’t he just leave me alone?”

“cause he’s a fucking creep, babe. i’m sorry this happened, you didn’t deserve that.”

“bu-y/n, i know you’re mad at me, i get that but i’ve told you once before that i’d protect you, and i still mean it.” matt hiccups, facing me as he walks backwards, his words slurring slightly causing me to scoff.

“please just stop matt. you’re just drunk, you don’t mean the shit you’re saying. and frankly, you’ve done nothing but make shit hard for me since we got here, so please just stop. we’re not friends. we’re not even acquaintances. we’re nothing but two people who used to be friends that now hate each other, because of your actions, might i remind you.” i spit, brushing past him and briskly walking to our dorm building, need to put this night behind me once and for all.

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[jasmines-library]

Hi! I think you said that you would write for Cassandra? If you don’t it’s fine and feel free to ignore this <3

I used he/him pronouns but if you don’t do male readers you can make it gn! :)

Here we go.. So the reader is 12 and younger than the rest of the family. He is a child weapon like cass and Damian. Actually he is Cassandra’s little brother, he was made solely on defeating Cassandra after she escaped. He also has electricity powers and is as much as good of a fighter like Cassandra. So he is sent on a mission to destroy or eliminate Cassandra or another family member but the batfamily stops him. Somehow they knock him out after a hard fight and put him in a. Cell or somethin. They find out he is Cassandra’s bio little brother and are determined to help him. So they talk to him when he wakes up or something and cassandra is like really clingy and protective of him so he reluctantly stays.

If you can, can you show some snippets or short story of his interactions with others and how he is adjusting to his new life in the manor, (he also gets to be a vigilante along side them.)

BROTHER MINE

Summary: Male Reader is a child weapon with electricity powers, created with the intent to kill Cassandra after she escaped, though when he tried to take her down and he gets caught he ends up with much more than he bargained for.

Warnings: Kinda child abuse? (It's a child assassin), violence. Nothing explicit or graphic

Word count: 2.1K

⛤ BATFAM MASTERLIST ⛤

Cassandra Cain was the sole reason for your existence. Almost as soon as she left you were dragged away from your mother kicking and screaming to begin your training. Sandra feared it would happen at some point. Cain had taken her daughter, it was only in due time until he would take her son. 

Although you were older than Cass when she began her training, they still made you ruthless. They pushed you until your legs were trembling and the only thing that crossed your mind was the art of assassination. You didn’t speak anymore. It was forbidden. This meant that the parts of your brain normally used for speech were trained so you could read your opponents movements to predict their next move in a fight. You remember your mother telling you once that they did that to Cassandra too. It was one of the only things you did remember from what little of your childhood you had before it was ripped away from you. Your training was not much different from your older sisters, though your father had made one thing clear. In order to beat her you had to be better than her. So he pushed you further than he had ever pushed anyone before until something in your brain began to change and you discovered a newfound ability to manipulate electricity. They had made you into the perfect tool; smart and powerful but submissive to the right people. You were a weapon with one mission. Kill Cassandra Cain. 

You roamed the streets of Gotham, mask pulled over your face. Your time had finally come. After years of waiting your father finally found an opening on Cassandra and had sent you into the city to meet her. You had been warned that she was with Gotham’s infamous vigilantes and you had deemed it a welcoming challenge. As you walked, boots scuffling along the floor, you couldn’t help but feel that there was something so utterly wrong about this. You had pursued your sister before without a second thought, but now as you grew older and more wise about your actions a part of you buried deep within your teachings couldn’t help but feel as though you were doing the wrong thing. But you dismissed the thought very quickly, honing in on your surroundings as your training kicked in. 

You could see them now. The five of them perched on a rooftop, just above a bright billboard advertising an expensive brand of clothing. The two eldest seemed to be keeping a watchful eye over the city, even from down on the street you could see the way their heads turned and their bodies tensed up when they thought they saw something. The other two boys seemed to be having a scuffle behind them as they jested between each other. And then there was Cassandra, donning her black and yellow suit. She surveyed silently, leaning against the brick wall of the entrance to the building’s exit staircase. She was on edge, and rightly so. 

You moved silently through the building and up the stairs as though you weighed nothing more than a feather. You hugged the walls, moving swiftly to avoid being detected by any of the blinking red sensors and alarms. It was child's play really; something you could do in your sleep. 

The door to the rooftop was locked when you tried to ease it open gently, so you brought up a spark of electricity to your fingers to fry the circuit so that you could then open the door and slink onto the rooftop without anyone noticing. 

The youngest two vigilantes had since stopped their bickering and were now also surveying the skyline, but your dear sister still hadn’t sifted from where she was before you entered the building.Perfect. 

Moving silently and agilely you ran towards Cassandra and grabbed her roughly from behind. She went down with a cry of alarm but was quickly moving again, flipping you off of her before you even had the chance to think about conjuring up electricity. Her shout had alerted the other four, who quickly came rushing to her aid, weapons readdied as they charged towards you. Nightwing swung his escrima sticks at you, they crackled but you caught them one handed and sent him staggering back so you could move for the next attack. Despite the fact that you were heavily outnumbered, you managed to hold your ground extremely well by maximising your small frame and use of training to slip around them and send them to the ground. The heroes were well trained too though, and the scuffle was tiring for all of you. 

With a flick of your hand, you sent Robin flying across the roof skidding to a stop when he hit the brick wall. Finally you had managed to get rid of the obstacles in your way and could focus entirely on your sister. You turned, manoeuvring your body to land a kick to her chest but she ducked and rolled out of the way before trying to grab your ankle and pull you down to the ground. The two of you fought intensely, neither of you making much progress besides landing the odd lucky punch here and there because you were both able to predict each other's next move. Though eventually, you managed to make a false move and grip her wrists which allowed you to flip her over your body. Once you had her pinned underneath you, you began to conjure up the strength to finish your mission, but something stopped you. She looked up at you with wide eyes, one word slipping from her chapped lips.

“Y/N?”

You froze. 

At some point during your fight with her, your mask had fallen from your face without you noticing, and now she could see exactly who you were. And now your name had fallen from her lips accompanied by that look of recognition, you were stuck still. And one moment of distraction was all it took for one of the other vigilantes to regain their senses and land a heavy blow to the back of your head. 

~

Cass was quiet. More quiet than usual as she sat on the other side of the cell, peering at you from the other side of the bars. There were a million things running through her head all at once and she was struggling to process them. You were alive. You were an assassin. You had tried to kill her. It was a lot to handle. Dick seemed to notice as he glanced up at her from the computer. 

“You okay, Cass?” He frowned, worried for a moment that she was injured more than she let on, but Alfred had checked the five of them over and assured that everyone had escaped with nothing more than a few scrapes and bruises. 

She nodded, biting the inside of her cheek as she thought. Dick made his way over to her, sliding down on the bench and eyeing you up. You were still unconscious, Tim had hit you hard with his staff. 

“He’s not gonna get you, Cass.”

“No.” She shook her head, fiddling with her hands in her lap and completely avoiding his gaze. “It’s not that.”

“Then what is it?”

“He’s my brother.”

Dick had to stop his jaw from dropping completely. “What?”

“I-I thought he was dead. They told me he was dead and now he’s…this is my fault.”

“Slow down.” He told her as the others had started to approach. 

“What’s going on?” Damian asked.

“When I was still living with my father…sometimes my mother would stop by. She seemed cruel too, but she had this tenderness. She knew I was just a child. I suppose I was too young to remember everything, but I remember her telling me stories of a little boy. My brother. Y/N.” She gestured to you. “My father wasn’t supposed to know. Whenever she stopped by she would show me pictures of him and tell me how no matter what happened I must keep him a secret…but I guess my father knew because now he is just like me.”

“Oh, Cass…” Someone placed a hand on her shoulder. 

“A few nights after I escaped, I stopped by my mothers house in hopes of at least seeing him. But he was gone. And instead I found my mother clutching a bloody sheet. I assumed he was dead. But this is so much worse.”

“We can fix this, Cass. We helped you, we can help him.” Dick told her. He understood that what you did wasn’t your fault and that you were just a scared little boy following orders.

She hummed, watching as you stirred before snapping upright on high alert from the moment you woke up. 

You were confused for a moment when you awoke on a small cot in the corner of a cell, but then it all came flooding back to you. You almost immediately noticed the power suppressing cuffs on your wrists and secure bars on the wall. Cursing, you noticed the group of people eyeing you from the other side of the room and instead of staring daggers silently at them like you were taught to do, you began to break down.

The hot, thick tears that cascaded down your face were alien to you but you made no move to stop them from falling. Cassandra furrowed her brow at your demeanour as she had fully anticipated an aggressive reaction.

“s-sorry…” You rasped out. Your voice was so hoarse from not using it for so long you were surprised that you even remembered how to talk, even if your sentences lacked half of the words they needed. “They m-made…”

Cassandra moved closer towards you, ignoring the protests that Jason made. She crouched down near you and studied you. 

“I thought you were dead.” She whispered. 

You recoiled slightly, surprised that she even knew you existed. You shook your head meekly, interacting tenderly with her and going against everything you had known, but despite that it felt so right.

“Oh…Y/N. I’m so sorry this happened to you.”

“N-Not fault.” You stuttered back. 

“But it is-” She protested. 

“No.”

When one of the other boys approached the cell, you moved back hesitantly. 

“It’s okay.” Cass told you. “You can trust them.”

“We can help you.” Tim said. “If you’ll let us?”

“ c-can’t stay. Father-”

“He won’t know you’re here.” Dick told you. “We’ve kept Cass safe, we can do the same to you too.”

“Please, brother…” Cassandra insisted “Let me make this up to you.”

After pondering a moment, you reluctantly nodded. “Okay.”

BONUS:

Inspired by this image:

Cassandra had not seen you all day and as much as she didn’t want to admit it, she was getting worried. When she returned from patrol, she had peered into the room that Bruce had given you, only to find it empty. She then checked in the cave to see if you were there, but all she found was a weary Tim and Jason who had been sparring. She asked around, but neither of them had seen you either. 

She was on the verge of panicking as she made her way back to your room to double check, when she heard chatter coming from Damian’s room. It spilled underneath the door with the light into the hallway. She knocked before pushing it open to a most peculiar sight. 

You were sprawled out beside Damian on his bed, with a book in hand. He guided your finger across the page as you read, helping you as you tried to decipher the words on the page.

“I-It…vuh? Vuh…Vuh-uss? It vuss? No.” You shook your head, screwing your face up as you scanned the page. Damian sat patiently beside you. “Was!” You grinned. “It was!” 

“Yes! Well done.” Damian smiled slightly. “keep going.”

“What are you doing?” Cass interrupted, making the two of you jump. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere.”

“Sorry…” You muttered. “Damian teach me to read.”

Cassandra raised a brow. “The demon spawn is doing something nice for once?”

“Tt. No.” 

“Sure looks like it.”

“No. No. it’s for everyone’s benefit. How is he supposed to become a vigilante if he can’t read? Hmm? He needed to learn, so I decided to teach him. No one else was going to do it.”

“Are you sure it’s not because you just wanted to do something nice for once?”

Damian’s cheeks flushed. “No. Of course not.”

Cassandra shook her head. “Keep telling yourself that, Dames.”

[webslingingslasher]

pregnancy scare with frat!peter… what would he do? would he ghost her completely or support her no matter what the test says?

this is different than ya'll wanted but... IT'S WHAT I WROTE OK??

For the first time since he’s met you, Peter is filled with rage and is only seeing red. He’s never been this pissed in his entire life, this was his life and his future on the line and you didn’t say one word to him. What if he hadn’t come over? What if he hadn’t gone to the bathroom? 

It had fuck all to do with the results, it was the fact you hid it from him. Something that big, that life changing, needed to be talked about, at least shared with the guy you’ve been fucking. A common fucking courtesy if you will. And he knows he should give himself a moment to breathe and calm himself down before asking questions but he is so mad he could rip a car apart. 

Mid piss he looked around and his eyes fell on your trash can, eyes skipping to the next focal point. Then his mind registers what it saw and his eyes widen, chest tightening and a paused inhale. His gaze slowly traveled back to the trash can, clear as day, a pregnancy test. 

Zipping his pants with shaky hands, Peter reached down to grab the plastic. A clear negative, but it didn’t make him feel better, it made him feel worse. How fucking selfish could she be? Doesn’t she know this affects me too? Why didn’t she tell me? It went from panic to anger in a millisecond, he gripped the sides of the porcelain sink with white knuckles. 

Throwing himself away from the sink he ripped the door open, and sped walked to your small kitchen before slamming the test on the counter. 

“What the fuck is this?” Pure venom, it made your shoulders tense. Turning to blink at the negative and shrugging, feeling uncomfortable for the first time around him. “A pregnancy test?” Wrong answer, you just lit a fire in his eyes. 

“I’m sorry, do you think this is funny? Or cute?” 

You feel like you’re shrinking under his glare, you didn’t know he could be so intimidating. 

“Why are you so mad? It’s negative.” 

His hand slaps the counter, “what if it wasn’t? I mean, were you just going to spring that on me? Would you even tell me?” 

“Peter,” Futile, he’s running his mouth. 

“Do you understand that this involves another person? This is my life and my future and you don’t say a fucking word to me? You spew a lot of shit about trust and then leave out this really fucking big thing?” Hands moving as his thoughts tumble out, you went from neutral to guarded, it’s his fault you didn’t tell him. 

“Is it my fault I thought you wouldn’t care? Or I don’t know, throw me out of your house? Tell me to fuck off and never talk to you again? How was I supposed to tell you I was late without you backing out entirely?” 

Insulted, “I wouldn’t do that. You really love painting me as a giant asshole when I’ve never been one, unless that’s some boyfriend bitterness seeping through.” Peter might be right, maybe you do paint him as a bit of an asshole, but throwing the boyfriend thing in your face was too far. 

“Fuck you, Peter.” 

As much as you tried to fight it, tears collected in the corner of your eyes, your throat felt raw and tight, blowing a breath out you swerved around Peter, you couldn’t look at him anymore, you needed to walk away and hold yourself. Arms blocked your path, wrapping around your waist, trying to push them away, but tugged into his chest. 

“C’mon, don’t walk away.” Pushing against him, sadness leaving and frustration piercing your skin, harshly fighting against his grasp. “Let me go! You’re a fucking asshole, like this time you really, really are.” Peter holds you tighter, “I know, I know I am.” 

Faulting in his hold but gently pulling his thumbs, “you do?” 

“I shouldn’t have said that to you, that’s unfair. It just really hurts me when you say I don’t care, I really, really, really care about you, trouble. And when something this big happens I want to know you can talk to me, it fucking kills me you think I’d kick you out or cut you out of my life.” 

Your bottom lip trembles, “I was petrified it would be positive, you know why?” Peter’s hands rub up and down your back, “cause you might ask me to be your girlfriend.” His head tilts, “that’s a nightmare for you?” 

“I want to be your girlfriend because you want me to be, not because you feel indebted cause we have a kid.” 

Peter takes a deep breath, “hey,” his palms cup your face, giving you a fish face he smiles, “I’m sorry, and,” he gives you a soft kiss, “the next pregnancy scare, I promise you you’ll be my girlfriend. So there’s no question.” 

You kiss him this time, humming when you pull away. “You could do it now, you know.” 

His voice is low, “nah,” his thumbs brush your cheeks, “let me earn it, make all the waiting worth it.” 

[number-onekidqueen]

𝐈𝐭’𝐬 𝐍𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐇𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐚 𝐅𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝

I don’t think you guys understand how much I love this song. So here’s some fluff, which you guys wanted most in that little poll.

It was the first time you’d ever seen snow.

As the final conch horn echoed throughout camp and activities ceased, you’d exchanged the friendship bracelet you’d been making with Luke, giggling at the messy pattern he’d made.

You’d only known each other for a little while, but already you could tell that arts and crafts were not his strong points.

“Whatever,” he was grumbling, although he was also grinning as the two of you ambled out of the craft cabin. “Woah.”

You felt it then, the cold flakes fluttering on your skin, causing hairs to raise all over you. The pair of you stood, shivering and in awe as you faced towards Olympus, watching as the white flurries swirled down through the grey sky.

“Let’s go,” he urged you, throwing a jacket on, “this barely ever happens they say. We’ve gotta savour it while we can.”

“I-I haven’t got a coat with me,” you pointed out awkwardly, cursing yourself for not noticing the cold temperatures beforehand.

“Oh,” and he immediately ripped his coat off and placed it on your shoulders before you could protest. “C’mon, I’ll walk you to your cabin for your coat and then we can have some fun.”

Slipping and sliding through the snow you went, reaching your cabin in no time. Already the snow had grown thick, and you took advantage of this, making wonky snow angels and pelting snow balls at each other. This fun and mania continued until others joined and it became so violent and competitive, Chiron had to intervene.

To appease everyone, however, he promised a night of camping on the beach in tents. You remembered how you’d stayed up so late that night, talking and talking and talking. You never got sick of it, and in the close and fun atmosphere, it was so nice to have a friend.

The pink sky was so spacious and beautiful from up here. It was many a night you’d ascended up onto the Hermes cabin roof, but you didn’t think it had ever been so scenic.

You hoped your dad was giving a fantastic sky show to Luke after all the shit he’d been through.

“You guys have gotta get dow-“

“We’re literally counsellors too! Go away!” You screamed at the pesky Demeter counsellor, glaring at him until he left you in peace. Couldn’t he take a hint? Couldn’t you guys be left in peace for a fraction of a second?! It wasn’t like you guys had a curfew anyway.

To break the tense silence, you decided to play twenty questions. It was a tradition of yours, and you couldn’t exactly remember when you first played it, just that it was a game you played often. You hoped it would cheer Luke up from the miserable place he had been since he returned to camp from his quest.

“What was…. The goofiest thing you saw on your quest?” You asked, smiling.

He grinned weakly, seeming to rack his brain as he gazed at the sunset. “Um, oh! Probably this guy we saw on the bus. He had these maroon gloves, and uh, a completely orange jumpsuit thing and all he did the whole trip was eat celery.”

“What? No way.” You said in disbelief, shaking your head.

“No, he was insane, just like crunching away at these sticks of celery for about an hour, I swear.”

You continued like this for a while, asking silly questions and snickering until your stomachs ached. But the deeper questions came too.

“Do you still have nightmares?” You were scared to ask this question, scared that it overstepped. Sure, you were best friends and you’d talked about these deep, close and personal things many times before, but Luke had changed when he came back. He was more sensitive, more traumatised. He hadn’t cracked with you, but he had with Chris, and that was still saying something. You didn’t want to fracture the shaky relationship you’d fought to rebuild.

“Yeah,” he replied, and you drew closer as he let out a shaky exhale, “they keep coming, and I just can’t get away from them.”

“What’s in them?”

“It starts off pretty normal. I’m usually with you somewhere and we’re doing something for camp. And then-then this gap opens beneath your feet- and you fall, and, and you’re screaming the whole way down. And then this evil, dark voice comes out and sometimes I can hear it, but usually it just mutters all these weird phrases I can’t understand.”

“What does it tell you when you can hear?” You were both curious and concerned.

“It’s weird. That if I follow it, it can show me a world where no one I care about gets hurt, and I can protect them all. Sometimes, I get these glimpses of this warm, golden place and everyone’s happy and safe. But then I’m just scared again.”

There was a brief silence, allowing both of you to mull over the words just spoken.

“My go,” and his eyes were soft when he faced you, “Apollo been answering your prayers?”

You shook your head, blinking back the tears in your eyes at the thought. Of course he knew. He was Luke Castellan.

“I thought so. You deserve so much better than him.”

“Yeah, well, he’s a god, right?” You said weakly, brushing tears, “bad parenting is part of their jam.”

You fought the tears that continued to build, thinking of a way to change the subject. “This questioning is getting so depressing, geez.”

“Well, it’s your go. You lighten the mood.” He offered, leaning back on his elbows.

“Ok. I can’t think of anymore! Uhh, on a scale of 1 to 10 how important am I to you?” You joked, covering your mouth as you chuckled quietly.

He wasn’t laughing back though. In fact, his face was earnest.

“10.” He replied softly, and his hand reached forward and brushed yours.

And you treasured that evening in your memory. It was so nice to have a friend.

The clanging of bells signified both your successes as you’d reached the adult years of life. Even at 25, you and Luke were lucky to be alive.

You both didn’t want to waste anymore time.

Laughter erupted from you, as he scooped you into his arms, carrying you away from Big House and the cacophony of ricocheting metal courtesy of the Hephaestus and Hecate cabins, and the grass strewn with snow flake like rice grains.

You’d had the celebration at camp, but you were planning to drive back to your home - a new apartment in New York.

And here you were. Humming along to the high notes of a nostalgic song on your playlist, waiting for Luke to come back with his take out, and drumming your fingers on your cream skirt. Despite the fact that he’d stuffed his face with entrees that Demeter kids had lovingly and tediously created back at camp, he was still starving by the time you’d spent a while on the road. Truth be told, you were too, but given the fact you were still in your wedding dress, you didn’t want to risk any stains.

The loud and cheery tune of your ringtone distracted you from your thoughts, and after a bit of scrambling, you picked up, noticing it was Luke.

“Luke, babe, I swear I gave you the credit card, it isn’t in here.”

“Uh, ouch, no there’s no problem with that,” he explained, chuckling. “That creamy sauce is still your favourite, right? With wings?”

“Yeah?” you said, confused. “But I’m not hungry remember? Just buy food for yourself, and get outta there before we hit peak hour traffic.”

“Oh yeah, I just noticed it’s a few cents cheaper than normal sauce.” You could hear him munching softly now, so you assumed he was on his way out. Thank the gods.

“Ok?? And you seriously called me for that?” You asked, more amused now, but still very confused.

“Ooh, you’re right, I better watch my step, any more communication and my wife will divorce me.” He teased.

You sputtered a bit at wife, trying not to choke. You still weren’t used to it. You didn’t think you ever would be.

“I know you’re blushing in there.” He called over the phone, except now you could see him exiting the store, boxes piled in his arms.

“Whatever,” you mumbled, hanging up and trying to calm your burning cheeks.

When he entered the car, the sucker still had that grin on his face as he passed you a box of wings and a little tub of your favourite sauce.

“Huh?” You asked him, a smile spreading.

“Y/n, I think even Mr D. has enough intuition skills to know you were craving some wings. Let’s eat.”

And you beamed at him, because of course your Luke knew when you desperately wanted food and would go and procure it for you.

The car trip was a lot shorter when the both of you were licking your fingers and passionately singing your favourite songs off-key. It seemed only moments had passed before you were turning into the parking lot underneath your apartment, stacking any box you could carry in your arms, and sandwiching bags between each limb.

Thankfully, the elevator wasn’t broken, and you were able to take that up to the three floors it took to reach your apartment. Outside the door was your landlord, a steaming coffee mug in one hand and a set of keys in the other.

You bit your lip anxiously as he scanned his eyes over you, his lips twisting in amusement at your dress.

“Nice outfit,” he sniped, taking a sip of the hot black liquid.

“I certainly thought so.” Luke chimed in, taking the keys from the man and unlocking the door. He led you in by the shoulder. “She looks beautiful, just like always.”

And then the door was shut, and you were bent over giggling quietly, casting grateful looks at him while Luke side-eyed the door.

You’d barely been a moment in your new place, but it already felt like home with him. As you personalised the place further and more and more of your belongings from camp hung on the walls, lay on the floor and were tucked into corners, a sense of belonging crept into your heart. You loved this place. You loved Luke.

Walking swiftly into the bedroom, you collapsed onto the mattress he was setting up, tugging him down with you.

He groaned happily, as you carded your fingers through his hair.

“Let’s just lie here for a while and not do anymore unpacking,” you whispered to him breathily, as you settled into his side.

“Mmmm, not a while. How about the whole weekend?” He mumbled, as his arms snaked around you, pulling you in closer.

And in the warmth of that bed it was the same comfortable feeling you’d felt with him all those times before.

It was nice to have a friend lover.

[highlady-sorcha]

Nights With a Newborn (Azriel x Reader)

Hey all. This is another one that’s on my Wattpad that I wanted to bring over here for you guys. Thank you so much for all the love on that Cassian fluff piece I posted! I’m so shocked that it has nine likes right now! I never would have imagined that!! 

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

A human wouldn't be able to hear it, but any fae that wasn't completely and utterly deaf could. Azriel's newborn daughter shrieked like a banshee in her room at the other end of the house. You'd been up and down with her several times already. She'd nursed, she was clean and there was nothing else she needed. At this point, howling in the hours long before dawn, she just didn't want to sleep.

  As a new mom, you were exhausted. Bearing the child had nearly killed you, despite your fae healing, and Azriel had been ten times more protective of both you and the new baby because of it. Sometimes, you just needed a few minutes to yourself to sleep and slip away into a world where no one needed anything from you, no one wanted to touch you- nothing.

 Azriel shifted on the mattress behind you, the tip of one of his leathery wings brushed the small of your back where your tank top had slid up. It killed him leaving the little girl to cry. Every cry and sob from her was enough to send him running. Tonight, every scream that ripped from her little body twisted his heart in an invisible vice grip, making it hard to breathe. He couldn't help but to think of all the nights as a child where he was left in that cell by his wicked stepmother, with nothing for company but shadows and sadness. The last thing he wanted for his beloved little girl was to know any part of the pain he had.

 After a particularly painful gurgling screech from the baby's room Az sat up on the edge of the bed, rubbing any bit of sleep from his eyes with his scarred hands. His wings stretched wide behind him, pulling any stiffness from the delicate joints. You knew what his next step was.

 Sighing, you rolled over, reaching for him. The window on his side of the bed was open, allowing the Velaris summer breeze to flow in, shifting the gauze curtains back and forth. The edges of him were cast in pure silver, sculpting him in the image of a gentle and loving god.

 "Az, she's ok. I promise. There is nothing she could possibly need, and we're just going to drive ourselves crazy if we keep running over there." You told him as gently as you could.

 He sighed and ran his hands through his short black locks, throwing them this way and that.

"I know (y/n), I'm trying to trust you. I'm sorry.. it's just so hard." He whispered, his voice filled with agony.

  Your heart clenched at the words. Pushing the heavy, plush quilts back, you reached out for him, swallowing back the pain in the new scar on your belly.

 Your ran your hand down his spine, then back up. Trying to give him some comfort from just touch.

 "Az, not going to her now, when she needs to learn to calm herself down when there's nothing wrong does not make you a bad father."

 "Doesn't it?" He asked desperately, turning around to face you. "She's crying for comfort, and here I'm sitting on my ass. There's almost nothing I can do for her."

 "You do plenty. You bathe and change her. Cuddle her, read to her."

 "Still," he said sadly. "Anytime she cries, I feel like I've failed. I feel no better than my father, allowing me to be thrown in that cell and never let out."

 His hands clenched over the tops of his knees as he turned back to the window.

 You shrank back away from him. Was he right? Did you allowing the little one to soothe herself mean that you were in any way like Az's parents?

Seeming to sense your thoughts, Az sighed, and laid back onto the mattress. The muscles in his shoulders and back were still bundled with tenseness.

 He reached down to pull the covers over himself as the baby wailed, still. Az rolled onto his side and gently pulled you to him, careful to avoid the tender line on your belly. He wrapped his arms around your middle, and buried his face in the back of your neck, nuzzling into your hair. Your gentle apricot and summer air scent that normally surrounded you now mixed gently with the rosiness of babies and the warm, milky scent of a nursing mother.

 He breathed in deeply, and let his breath out slowly.

 "I love you so much (y/n), this will pass. We will get through this part together," he murmured against the back of your neck.

  You laid your hands over where his arms crossed just below your swollen breasts.

"I love you too, and I know we will Az. She's beautiful, she's perfect. She was meant to be ours, and we're doing the very best we can." You whispered.

The muscles in his arms relaxed then, and your weariness stole over you. Nights without sleep and days spent with Madja, overseeing your recovery while still caring for the baby had robbed you of your usual vitality. It wasn't long at all before despite the squealing still echoing through the house, you slipped under the heavy, velvety influence of sleep.

Az held you close in your dreams. Silently, he summoned his shadows to him. They swirled about him in a gentle, silent storm. In his mind, he whispered to them, giving commands, quietly sending them on a mission.

 The storm cloud left him then, and within moments, the baby soothed and settled down. Quiet stole through the house as the shadows slipped back into your room. They raced over to Azriel and swirled around him. They sent an image of a peacefully sleeping baby into his mind. Dressed in a cotton sleeper that allowed her hands and chubby little feet free, the tiny girl had pulled her thumb into her mouth. Her shock of wild black hair was tousled about in a wild bedhead cloud. Her tiny black wings were folded behind her, and as he watched, they expanded to their full span in a little stretch before tucking back against her body.

 The image left his mind as he sent the shadows away, back to their normal duties of skulking around the house where no one could see them. His heart was warmer, fuller, knowing that she was alright. Even if he hadn't gone himself to check on her and settle her down- he'd done what a father should, and shown his little girl love when she needed it.

 Maybe the shadows would be how he survived this stage of parenting, he thought, as he snuggled closer and drifted to sleep.

[theemptyartdeco]

Twin Tides (Nate Jacobs)

Chapter 1: Carnival | Nate Pov

Warning; toxic fucked up Nate (his pov is fucked up)

"Yo are you at this Ferris wheel or that Ferris wheel?"

"I know I'm on my way. How the fuck am I supposed to know there are two Ferris wheels?"

Nate paced through the crowd, Maddy's complaints combined with the overwhelming carnival music raged the familiar storm of anger in his chest, threatening to explode at any moment. Finally, the sight of Maddy in that outfit drove him off the edge.

"Why are you dressed like a hooker?"

He demanded furiously.

"What?"

What my ass.

"Jesus Christ, Maddy, I'm here with my parents."

His ire grew with every word, a storm brewing beneath the surface.

"So? It's a carnival."

"No, it's the chilli cook-off, it's very important. I can't have you hanging around the booth dressed like that." Nate walked past her impatiently, attempting to keep his temper in check, not because he felt the need to, but because the thought of Maddy's endless complaints and provocations once she was triggered made him want to do things.

Risky things.

The ones that would feel good yet which his rational judgement dissuaded him from constantly.

Nate Jacobs was many things.

Driven, manipulative, angry, narcissistic, even dangerous maybe, but impulsiveness was not one of them, let alone stupidity. Every time the boy makes a move, he already anticipates the next three.

The cycle was not that complicated.

Anger, evaluation, calculation, action and scheme.

Each of those steps was essential, and he had gotten away every single time, but it didn't mean the process was not exhausting.

So there he was.

He succeeded in controlling his body, team, grades, and people around him. And now comes the most challenging task: controlling his rage.

"Maybe it will sell better."

His fists clenched Maddy's flirtatious and coquette comment. A part of him desired to rip off her revealing pieces, mock her and take her right there and then, "If you want to dress like a whore, I shall treat you like one." The other part burnt with frustration and rage.

"This isn't a fucking joke, ok?"

Does she ever have fucking common sense?

"Why are you being like this?"

No, she does not.

"Listen, my parents already don't like you."

Truth.

"What?"

"Go home, get changed, and come back looking like a person."

Nate hissed and left her standing in the middle of the crowd, toning down the aggression in his voice as much as possible with effort.

"Another breakup?" he queried, a hint of amusement in his voice.

"No," Nate replied tersely, every muscle in his body tensed.

Keep your damn nose out of my business.

"She's nothing but a distraction," Cal observed nonchalantly.

A muffled scoff escaped Nate's lips. Maybe Cal had a point.

Yet what had it ever not been a distraction for him? Some things slip away more quickly, some less so.

First, it was conquering his body, followed by conquering the field, next conquering his mind in the classroom, then Maddy, who was often undoubtedly a pain in his ass, like the night at Mckay's party. Still, it was exactly her unpredictability and her boldness, which some would call shamelessness, that made his quest of conquest interminable, more addicting.

In Cal's head, Maddy was the distraction from his goals.

He didn't like to think about it, but he knew the truth. It seemed that none of it, whether it was football, victories on the field or Maddy, could contain the flame of anger blazing in his chest forever, and it scared him.

"Yo—"

Aaron yawned. Nate frowned, sensing the revolting scent of alcohol in his brother's throat even if he wasn't facing him.

"Now that-" Aaron grinned foolishly at Cal, pointing drunkenly, "Is what you don't call a distraction. That's a girl you fuck for life."

Nate chuckled blatantly with disdain. The mere idea that a girl finding her cunt buried with Aaron's weak drunken cock was one the few things that could echo sympathy in Nate Jacobs' blackened heart.

Nate raised his head, the amusement and disdain written only in the depth of his pupils, which were met unexpectedly with another pair of dark eyes, which, as ridiculous and improbable as it sounds, were so beautifully similar to his.

She was standing in front of the booth, her mouth slightly opened, clearly shocked, disturbed, offended yet holding back her irritation at Aaron's comment for the sake of politeness.

Nate was momentarily taken by her presence, a reaction he would've usually blamed himself for, but this time, he couldn't.

The stranger girl appeared out of place in ways he couldn't even count. Among the teenagers like him, whose hormones for sex and high misted everywhere, her perfectly toned figure balanced between slenderness and fullness, molded into simple yet stylish black dress just above her knees that revealed just the right amount of her flesh straddled the fine between seduction and elegance. It was also the way she held her head high, showcasing her collarbones and snow-like slender neck, despite the ostensible discomfort and startle. It was an inborn pride.

"Excuse my brother," Nate apologized tactfully, putting on the mask of the charming gentleman, "He's a loser."

"Apologize, Aaron."

"Are you fucking serious right now?" The older brother's widened in annoyance.

Before Aaron could retort by unveiling Nate's label-whoring routine.

"Apologize."

Nate repeated, his voice unyielding, it was a command.

"Fuck this," Aaron threw the beer can in the garbage, "Sorry."

Nate watched the irritated and conflicting tension among her features dissipating naturally, replaced by a sweet smile on her doll-like face, "I appreciate it."

He chuckled when pouring the hot chilli into the cup, "I don't recognize you from here," he raised his eyes calculatedly, observing her face, "Are you new in town?"

She nodded with that harmless and innocent smile, "Just arrived last weekend. My mother and I are still adjusting."

Her cheeks seemed so soft, delicate, untouched. And her voice.

If only a girl in East Highland had that voice chord...

"Going to East Highland High soon?" He hands her the chili cup, his fingers brushed against hers, "It's on the house, as an apology on my brother's behalf. It's Nate, by the way."

"I'm Kaitlyn. Kaitlyn Arundel," her lips curled naturally, "Yeah, I'll be attending East Highland High."

He raised his brows, "Junior?"

"Senior," she swallowed.

Nate noticed that faint hesitance, shame, and something else... anger behind radiating through her carefully crafted innocence.

"It's nice to meet you, Kaitlyn," he simply nodded in acknowledgment without further pursuing questions, knowing that he would crack them, one by one, eventually.

"You may want to be careful around here. My brother just has a loud mouth, but he bears no ill intentions."

Kaitlyn tilted her head, her dark doe eyes seemingly confused and surprised.

"A beautiful girl like you," Nate approached her quietly, his large figure hovering over hers, "A lot of men would try to get their hands on a beautiful girl like you. You don't want to get yourself in that kind of situation."

"I'm not trying to," she whispers softly.

"Good girl," He brushes his finger tips on her cheek.

If only Maddy saw this.

It amused him how she would have reacted.

Call him a cunt? Slap her on the face?

He could get used to imagine how he would shield this innocent, sweet, beautiful, decent girl, her face red from the slap, sobbing in shock in his chest, from Maddy.

"It was nice meeting you," Kaitlyn retreated slowly but firmly from their proximity, yet her voice still gentle, her smile defenceless, "Nate Jacobs."

With that, she disappeared into the crowd, the last glint in her eyes screamed an innocence and purity that made his cock twitch, yet something behind those dark eyes had left him unsettled.

Until next time, little girl.

Taglist; @tember1

[little-miss-dilf-lover]

don’t close your eyes (Matt Murdock x f!reader)

summary || Elektra comes back to town with one goal in mind- to get Matt back. She’d do anything to get him back, even harming his girlfriend.

wc || 1.7k

warnings || angst, mentions of blood, death

a/n || from this request. this is quite different to what I usually upload and I feel a little embarrassed in case it’s not good. it might be a little dark for some people, so I won’t be offended if you skip this one. I was listening to sad music while I wrote the last part, so be warned😭

masterlist + rules

taglist

through your eyes (part 2) ->

You and Matt were having a calm morning, quietly enjoying each other's company as you shared breakfast. 

“You okay?” You ask, noticing the way he suddenly tensed up.

“Yeah. I’ll be back in a moment.” Kissing your forehead to excuse himself.

Walking out of the apartment and into the hallway where he found Elektra leaning against the wall, waiting got for his arrival.

“What are you doing here?” He whisper shouts, not wanting you to hear while still being able to convey his disgust to her presence.

“I’m here to get you back Matthew.” She said slowly, stalking forward to stroke his arms.

“You need to go.” He says warningly.

“Not until I have you back Matthew.”

“I won’t ask you again.” Gripping onto her forearms.

“I love how rough you are with me… but that’s beside the point. I want you back.”

“No, I have a girlfriend.” He scoffs while ripping his hands off Elektra’s arms.

“That hurts my heart Matthew, but you must know… if I can’t have you… then you can’t have your little plaything.” She flirtatiously taunts.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He grits, growing frustrated with the conversation.

“Hm, well… I’ll kill her.” Pausing to make it seem as though she’s thinking. “Yeah, I will kill her.” 

“I don’t believe you.” He spits as he pushes her against the wall.

“My heart Matthew, listen to my heart… you know I never lie.”

He doesn’t reply, but she could tell by his lack of communication that he knew.

“You have until the end of the day to break things with her- oh and make sure to tell her that you love me instead, I want her to hurt.” She smirks. “The longer I have to wait… the more your girlfriend will suffer… so I guess I will see you soon Matthew.” Kissing his cheek before walking away. 

All he could do was stand there stunned. Matt knew Elektra was telling the truth and he couldn’t bare the thought of putting you in danger. He knew he had to let you go, he just didn’t want to. 

He takes a couple of deep breaths before walking back in, trying to clear his mind.

“Hey? Are you okay?” You ask sounding worried.

“Yeah.” Poking his fork into a potato.

“Matt?” You ask cautiously, sweetly placing your hand over his.

“I’m okay.” Smiling at you disingenuously. 

You wanted him to be honest, but you didn’t want to push. You told yourself that he’d come to you when he was ready, so you changed the subject.

“Breakfast was lovely, thank you. What do you want to do today?” Collecting the dishes to put in the sink. “We could stop by that new farmer's market? I think they’ve got some great deals. Or we could get coffee?”

“I don’t know, I’m sorry.” Rubbing the bridge of his nose. Your sweet and nurturing nature made this situation impossibly harder, he adored your pure heart and the thought of breaking it, made him spiral.

“That’s okay, or we can stay here?” You offer, sensing that he might not be in the mood to do too much.

Dropping his head into his hands as he exhaled deeply.

“What’s going on in that head of yours?” You ask warmly, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“I can’t do this.” He sighs. 

“Do what?” Slowly pulling your hand away.

“I can’t be with you anymore, I’m sorry…” Dropping his head further into his hands so that they could block his ears, not wanting to hear the way those words destroyed you.

Standing still for what felt like forever, slowly stepping back and into the living room. You didn’t know what to say. Things were going so well, how could he change his mind so quickly? You didn’t want to fight it, it was clear he had made his decision. 

“I’ll… uh- um.” You stuttered not knowing how to respond. “Uh- I’ll go get my stuff.��� You breathed strenuously, trying not to cry.

He could feel his own heartbreak along with yours, so desperately wanting to reach out and hold you. He knew he couldn’t make this any harder for you, so he stayed away. Listening to every stifled sniffle and every erratic pound of your heart.

Slinging your bag over your shoulder, you leave Matt’s bedroom walking past him and out of the door. You weren’t able to speak right now, too afraid of bursting into tears in front of him. Closing the door behind you. 

// 

It had been a few weeks since Matt ended things with you, and quite frankly you’ve been a mess. You’ve not been able to do anything recently so your apartment was in a state. You have been racking your brain trying to think of what you did wrong, what was missing or what you could’ve done differently.

You just truly missed him.

Today has been a slow one but you felt like you were finally getting there. You were able to put some things away in the kitchen, doing little jobs to help you feel accomplished. Doing small things to try to make you feel better. 

Pulling your hair into a quick ponytail, and throwing on a cardigan to get the mail from downstairs. Shoving your feet into whatever shoes were closest to the door, making your way to collect the months' worth of letters.

Walking back up to your floor you see Matt standing outside your door.

You couldn’t turn around because you knew he heard you. Slowly strolling forward. “Hi.” You greet politely.

“Hello, Angel. Please can we talk?” He pleads, smiling at you promisingly.

“Okay…” Opening the door. “Sorry about the mess.” Scattering around to awkwardly tidy around him. 

“I can’t live without you.” He says quietly to the floor.

“Why’s that?” 

“I only love you, I didn’t mean what I said... It was Elektra.” Painfully smiling at you.

“What do you mean?” You meekly ask.

“She threatened you, and I couldn’t let that happen… so I had to let you go- but… I just, I can’t live without you.” 

“I’m confused.”

“I’m sorry for throwing this all on you. I just needed you to know.”

“I don’t get it.”

“I love you. You’re the only person I love… and I’m sorry that I hurt you.”

“Why didn’t you tell me this sooner?” You ask, a slight pang of sadness in your tone.

“It was Elektra. I couldn’t stand being around her… she just isn’t you.” Walking towards you, opening his arms to offer a hug.

You didn’t have to think about it, melting into his embrace. Squeezing each other tighter and not wanting to let one another go. 

“I’ve missed you.” You mumble into his chest.

“I’ve missed you so much.” Resting his chin on your head while he stroked over your back. “I’m so sorry.”

The door swings open and clatters against the wall. “Where is she?” A female voice shouted.

He spins you both around so that his back was to the woman, holding you in front of him to protect you. 

“We had a deal, Matthew.” She taunts, smashing your photo frames and dropping your vases to the floor. 

“Elektra, please just stop.” He yells, gripping you tighter. 

“I don’t like when people don’t hold up on their part of the deal.” Stalking forward, slashing her dagger into the back of your sofa and tearing it open. “Remember what I said?” She taunts once more, throwing your books and candles against the wall. 

“She’s not a part of this… what can I give you instead? Just please don’t hurt her.” Cocooning your head in his arms, trying his hardest to keep you safe.

“I’m afraid not Matthew. I told you what would happen.” Itching closer to you both. Teasingly brushing her fingers along your hands that were gripping at Matt’s back. She yanks on your arm, separating you apart and pushing you to the floor. Straddling your stomach as she edged her sword along your jaw.

Matt immediately dives to push her from you, dragging her along the floor to get her as far away as possible. 

“Go.” He shouts over to you, panic and fear riddled in his voice.

Sliding yourself away to pull yourself up, gripping the sides of the coffee table for support. 

“You’re quite the fighter sweetheart.” Elektra taunts you, trying to free herself from Matt’s grip. 

She slams him back into the wall behind and runs towards you. Picking up her dagger from the floor and burying it deep in your stomach. Twisting it a couple of times before yanking it out.

Matt stood there paralysed before realising what had just happened. Rushing to your side to hold you, helping you down so you didn’t fall. 

“No no no, what have you done?” He whispers, putting pressure on the wound. “No no.” His voice breaks. “I’m so sorry.” Holding your neck to support you. 

“It's okay.” You say quietly.

“No, it’s not.” A tear falls and lands on your cheek. “Please don’t close your eyes, just wait okay- we’ll get help. Just please hang on.” 

“Someone help!” He shouts, trying to get attention from your neighbours. “Please call an ambulance. She’s losing too much blood, please?” He begs Elektra who was sitting on the armchair indifferently reading a magazine. 

“I love you. So much.” Reaching your hand up to stroke his cheek. 

“Please don’t go, you’re all I have left… hang on just a little more. Help!”

Resting your head on his leg while he placed his other hand on the wound, firmly pressing and trying to stop the excessive bleeding. “Count with me, Angel. One.”

“One.” 

“Two.”

“Two.”

“Three.”

“Th-“ Your hand dropped from his face.

“No no no, don’t-“ his voice breaks, holding behind your neck as his other hand continued to press onto your stomach. “Please talk to me… We’ll get help, okay?” He reassures you, but he was actually reassuring himself. Leaning over to rest his forehand against yours. “Stay with me, stay with me, stay with me- please? I love you.” Gently shaking your head to keep your eyes open. 

He could feel you slip away, tears freely spilling from his eyes and down onto your face. Holding your cheeks with his bloody hands, trying to keep you conscious. Pulling you closer into his lap and holding you tighter. 

“No no no no.” He mutters against your skin, hearing your last raspy breath before your eyes flutter shut for the last time. 

[kneelingshadowsalome]

Now listen I love yandere/toxic konig in the just friends universe, but I don’t think I could put up with that level of clingyness even for konig. What do you think konig would do if reader expressed some annoyance with how clingy he is? What if she asked for more physical space at times? How would he handle it?

I can see him being mad about it, OR getting very sensitive from rejection and going into a bad thought spiral…. What do you think?

Ooooooo (I love these asks 💕😭), König wouldn't get angry or mad...outright.

König would realize how clingy he is only after reader pointed it out to him. And he would be kinda mortified at first?? Then he would try to change his behavior and pretend he's less interested. Like, "Ja, sure, I need more alone time too." And then he would sulk and yearn for her in silence and in secret: he would think on the times he could just touch her anytime he wanted, squeeze her, sniff her, follow her everywhere...

And then he would start to build a good amount of resentment. His eyes narrow just from the thought of her wanting more distance.

She looks happier now that he gave her some space, looks more carefree when he lets her breathe a little. Does this mean she likes it when he's away? Why doesn't she want to spend as much time with him as he wants to spend with her? How can she stand to be apart for so long? What if she doesn't love him after all??

Yeah, bad-thought spiral on its way. He would not feel secure at all when she's so independent.

And what's even worse is that König wants to feel needed. This woman was supposed to need him, not the other way around! He's not going to be a lovesick puppy who rips up a sofa every time she's away. It's bad enough that she noticed how needy he is and had to ask him to give her some air. It's not manly at all to be clingy like that.

Then when they finally see and touch and cuddle he would be tense & intense, the way he was when they first met. When he finally gets to close her in a hug...he squeezes her until she makes an annoyed, squealy noise. The noise that erupts from his chest is not a rumble, it's a growl. He almost sinks his teeth in because he has missed her so much.

...which the reader senses and thinks "Damn. It's only getting worse," and tries to pull away some more. Which in turn would send König deeper into that downward yearning spiral... 🥲

[natashaslesbian]

We Saved Each Other (Part Two)

Summary: Natasha bring you back to S.H.I.E.L.D. She starts to find herself caring for you

Word Count: 851

Parings (Natasha Romanoff x Kid!Reader) (Avengers x Kid!Reader)

Warnings/Content: Swearing, minor red room mentions, injury detail, scars, hints towards an abusive past

————

The journey back to HQ was long, almost 6 hours. Thankfully it was shorter than a typical aircraft journey thanks to the high tech S.H.I.E.L.D jet. You slept most of the way and Natasha never left your side, not once. Her need for water or a bite to eat meant nothing against your safety. Of course you were safe, she knew that, but she feared you waking with only Clint in sight. “How is she?” Clint asked “still sleeping” Natasha answered “how are you?” The silence was deafening, how the fuck did he think she was. “I’m fine” she coldly said, still solely focused on you. As if you sensed her discomfort, you began to wake, increasingly concerned by your whereabouts. Clint took a step back as to not frighten you. “Hey sleepyhead” Natasha cooed. You rubbed your eyes and looked around, your eyes landed on clint and you backed away. “Wer me?” You whispered “ou say saf! No urt!” You finished, pointing towards Clint. “Hey, it’s ok, this is my friend Clint. He won’t hurt you I promise.” Her Russian accent had your attention, you hadn’t seemed to notice it before. “scawd” you whispered “you don’t have to be scared anymore” The redhead reached for you and you cautiously accepted her touch “we’re gonna get you somewhere safe just like I promised” she paused for a moment, thinking “I’ll take care of you” your little eyes lit up with hope and Natasha knew that now, she was forever connected to you.

Natasha excited the jet, you in her arms. Clint suggested he would meet with Fury alone to debrief as to give the widow a chance to decompress and Nick agreed; though he had many questions when he saw your small frame. “Um, if you go see agent Hill she should be able to find you, um her, some change of clothes” he stuttered. Natasha nodded, thankful to be able to get you out of your dirty ripped rags. You averted your eyes from the many wandering gazes of passing agents while Natasha was lead to a private room. The redhead set you down and thanked her fellow agent who smiled and exited in a hurry. “Let’s get you changed yeah?” Natasha said as she began rummaging through an old dusty box “maybe get you a bath or shower? Get you cleaned up?” You tensed up for a moment, frozen in place. “Sweetheart?” The redhead said. You peaked up at her through your teary eyes “no wata” you whispered, “I won’t hurt you hunny, I promise” Natasha knelt down to meet your eyes, she could see the fear painted across your face “ok” she sighed “no shower but darling we need to get you cleaned up a bit, and I need to see if you’re hurt” you were defiantly hurt, inside and out, past and present.

You hesitantly agreed and the widow snuck into the bathroom to grab a warm wash cloth. You settled yourself on the edge of the bed while you waited, your heart pounding. “Right then buttercup” Nat said as she re-entered the bedroom “let’s get you out of these dirty clothes” she waited for your lead and eventually you pulled your shirt towards your waist. Natasha soon realised you were completely bare other than the thin material draped over you, she cautiously placed a towel over you, slightly frightened by your small flinch. “It’s ok” she hummed. When the rest of your small frame was revealed Natasha was taken aback by your state. Dark bruising marked your shoulders and hips and the littering of scars across your stomach brought a lump into her throat. When you noticed her staring you quickly hid behind the towel and averted your gaze. Realising her mistake, Natasha took a step back. You watched as she rolled her own shirt up, revealing a scar above her right hip “I got this one a few years ago” she said. Your curiosity got the better of you “wha happen?” You asked. “I was shot, I have other scars too you know” Natasha said as she came back to your side “you don’t have to be ashamed of them, what happened?” She said, kindly mimicking your earlier question. You thought about telling her, the older woman had been so kind to you and you had started to trust her. You opened your mouth to speak but all you could hear were your fathers words

“if you tell anyone about what daddy does to you, I will kill you, just like you killed your mother you pathetic little bitch”

You snapped your mouth shut and shrunk back into herself “it’s ok” Natasha whispered “you don’t have to tell me, but if you change your mind it’s safe for you to tell me” her hand came into contact with your shoulder and the breath got stuck in your throat “‘M cold” Nat sprung back into action, ecstatic that you had told her what you needed.

There was a warmth in the air now. And a silent sentiment that just maybe things were going to be okay.

————

[nextstopparis]

actually you know. the 5.05 conversation is horrible the worst so frustrating and wretched to sit through i want to rip my hair out and sob interesting because arthur sort of… does go through an arc while trying to parse out what merlin’s thinking? and he gets so so so close but ultimately decides to leave it alone for some reason? like, okay.

at first, after he asks for merlins opinion, merlin only gives him vague answers. he says things like wanting “a fair and just kingdom for all” and wanting arthur to “become the king [he’s] destined to be” without clearly stating (to arthur) what he believes a fair and just kingdom for all means. who it encompasses. what kind of king arthur is destined to be. what that destiny entails.

we know, obviously, but arthur doesnt. its always interested me how when merlin says “a fair and just kingdom for all” arthur automatically takes that to mean that merlin is telling him to turn magic away. like, its just vague enough that for arthur, who doesn’t consider magic users to be in the equation, who does not consider them as part of his people in order to incorporate their needs and stuff within his laws, it means to not accept the disirs demands. but for literally anyone without those prejudices, without that life long indoctrination and belief, it could also be taken for all. like. all all. everyone. including sorcerers. so while merlin is saying one thing, arthur takes it to mean something else completely—and merlin. doesn’t correct him. just makes another statement that could mean two very different things depending on how much context you have.

anyway. my point is that, at this point, arthur was mostly thinking of legalizing magic as a means to an end. something he must do to save one of his men. like obviously he’s considering the consequences it would bring and exactly just how significant of a thing it would be but… he’s not really doubting his view on magic at this point.

but then he asks merlin if sorcery reigning once more is what merlin would want. he looks at merlin closer. sees how tense and silent he is. probably sees his glassy eyes and just how uncomfortable he looks. then he changes his stance. up until this point, a fair and just kingdom for everyone meant the exclusion of tolerating magic. up until this point, those two things were just obviously/inherently mutually exclusive to arthurs mind. but then he sees merlin and changes tactic. says, well, “maybe my father was wrong” and “maybe the old ways aren’t as evil as we once thought”. starts looking at merlin intently and admitting that perhaps theres another angle to this (an angle that, whenever he has started to consider, hes been immediately turned away from).

which i thought was interesting. idk. everyone always like HOW DID ARTHUR NOT SEE!!! and like. same. but also i think he did see?

[trashcanfills]

So I just read your hanzo space hcs and I loved the part about hushed conversations between him and genji in Japanese and I'm sorry if this request doesn't make a lot of sense but could I ask for a reader who finds out hanzo likes them because they know Japanese and listen to the arguments between hanzo and genji? Thank you and I'm sorry if this is long or confusing.

Mam/sir no this is not confusing. I like that you elaborated on the scenario u wanted me to write cus boi it helps hehe.

This became a monster of a fic jesus so uhhh more content for you i guess pardon the wait. I might edit this later cus Im not sure if Im happy with it now but eh its been stuck in my inbox for so long with some other requests better release now.

Shimada Hanzo x Reader - Hidden Confessions

Hanzo would likely be crushing on you after spending quite some time with you as friends. It’s hard to tell though because he never really says how he feels out loud, like I doubt you even are aware he considers you as a friend unless you confident/observant as hell or sth happened that both of you had to clarify for the sake of your friendship.

But alright lets say that you both consider each other as friends and you both know that. Cus friends to lovers tropes are gucci hehehehehe.

Ok so you def have to be crushing on Hanzo at this point, which I dont blame you for btw like look at the man. There’s a reason for the loads of fanart around him.

Unfortunately as we all know with the fucking friends to lovers trope drama, you cant just admit you like Hanzo that way, cus what if he doesnt sees you that way and it ruins your friendship and makes everything btw u??? Uh yea better safe than sorry bitches. Just keep it down and appreciate that you get to hang out with the angsty ass archer anyway.

Except…some kinda weird things have been going on with Hanzo and Genji? You think you see Genji talking to Hanzo in hushed whispers abt something that, based on Hanzo’s flushed and irritated expression, Hanzo clearly doesnt want to talk abt. It HAS piqued you interest when it tends to occur more often whenever you see the Shimada bros tgt. Asking Hanzo about it however just has him to dismiss it and change the subject. Rip.

Later on those hushed conversations do end up occurring in front of you and other overwatch members, in Japanese, since not many people do really know the language and the conversation was prob meant to be abt sth private and secretive.

Except, you do know Japanese. You didn’t exactly inform Hanzo or Genji of it because it seemed really entertaining to have them have these supposedly private Japanese conversations OUT LOUD without realising there were people who understood what they were saying. I mean, if it was a really sensitive thing they should be speaking behind closed doors right? Like cmon lol.

Usually, whenever the Shimada brothers talk to each other in Japanese, they would exchange some form of wit or ridiculous reference to their past (like that time Genji tried to cajole Hanzo into joining the DDR contest during one of the weekly game night sessions, until Hanzo said he still has pictures of Genji’s 16th Birthday Party Incident in Japanese. Ngl you were a lil curious what the incident was, but its likely some form of embarrassing blackmail).

However THIS TIME, it was completely different. You were chilling with a few other overwatch members plus Hanzo and Genji in the recreation room. Cue your surprise when Genji decided to ask Hanzo in Japanese:

“Sooooo…have you confessed your feelings yet, brother?”

Im sorry HANZO?? HAS FEELINGS FOR SOMEONE????? Thank god they weren’t really focusing on you that much otherwise they would have noticed your body tense a little at that. You don’t know exactly how to feel about this because this can either spell sth great or very bad for you, but most likely bad because what are the chances…right?

Hanzo predictably flushes a little, scowling even harder. If you didn’t know any better you would probably have thought that the archer was pissed at Genji about something instead of being embarrassed (tho i mean when has hanzo never been annoyed at genji lol)

At Hanzo’s expression, Genji sighed out loud. “You do realise you can’t stew on your feelings forever-“

“I can if I want to and that is my decision to make, not yours.” Hanzo hissed back. Genji, unbothered by the interruption, continued:

“-and you have been pining for them for like almost a year.”

Hanzo scoffed. Genji kept going. “I mean they are literally just RIGHT THERE. You can ask them out on like a freaking date-“

“-and risk the potential embarrassment and fallout of our current platonic relationship?”

“Look, I doubt y/n would be the kind of person to-“ Sorry, hold the phone. Did Genji say YOUR NAME?? DOES HANZO ACTUALLY LIKE YOU BACK??? HOLY SHEET???? It was literally taking all of your concentration to not combust on the spot and give away the fact you could understand what they were saying in Japanese because HOLY FUCK HANZO RETURNS YOUR FEELINGS??

Ok ok calm down and listen back to the conversation because you were zoning out a bit from the revelation that Hanzo has a crush on you. Genji was still talking.

“-and you can’t be sure that they aren’t interested in you. Heck, from what I see, they seem very receptive to your boneheaded ass-“

“Being friendly and polite in a platonic relationship is no grounds for speculating romantic interest, you idiot. It’s only a common courtesy-“

“-dude do you NOT notice how much closer they are to you compared to anyone else here-“

“-and that means nothing, Genji. Cease this conversation.”

“Hanzo-“

“No. I do not wish to discuss this any further. Regardless of what you say, I severely doubt they would even like me that way.”

“Even then, just TRY. That is all I am asking of you, Hanzo. Because I want you to be happy for once-”

“You know, you guys could just asked me yourself right now if that’s what you are worried about.” You chimed in. “And speaking of which, I do actually like you too, Hanzo, and uhhh I would be totally open for a date anytime?”

Their reactions were priceless. The moment you spoke up in Japanese had the two Shimada brother halt their conversation to look at you in shock. Hanzo in particular had a myriad of expressions too entertaining to watch.

Hanzo practically went through an entire rollercoaster of emotions when you interrupted. Shock at you speaking Japanese, horror when he realised you spoke Japanese and understood it which meant you were able to listen through their conversation this entire time, until he processed the part on you liking him back which turned into a mix of joy, relief, embarrassment…yea rip Hanzo lol.

Genji meanwhile was trying so hard not to laugh because holy sheet your timing was excellent.

He had to shake Hanzo a bit to get him out of a daze, and gestured at him to ask you out. Hanzo gets his wits back after, glares at Genji because he’s such a lil shit. He then glanced at you briefly before looking away all flustered. “So uhhh…I’ll pick you for dinner at 7pm later?”

You gave him you biggest smile and agreed. That was the start of your beautiful romance with Hanzo, albeit with a mildly embarrassing start but hey, you guys got together since then. :3

BONUS: during the date

“I wasn’t aware that you knew Japanese.”

“You didn’t exactly ask me.”

“…Fair point but still.”

BONUS BONUS: immediately after Hanzo asks you out

“Holy fuck finally!”

“I-Cassidy WHAT?”

“Look. I had to sit through y/n telling me that they are crushing on Hanzo, and listen to them whine about how unfairly hot and cool Hanzo is. I couldn’t do anything about it because I had to keep it secret.”

“Mood.”

“Genji, why are you saying mood? I didn’t tell you about my crush on your brother-“

“I had to sit through Hanzo waxing poetry about you whenever he gets in this weird mood or when he gets drunk during our drinking sessions. It was funny at first but then got sad after a while when he kept making himself depressed over the idea you didn’t see him the same way.”

“You did NOT have to reveal that information-“

“You were the one who chose to confide in me, brother.”

“Hmph, then I suppose you won’t mind me showing y/n my collection of blackmail material of you, then.”

“Woah woah woah let’s not go THAT far-“

[demonichikikomori]

No Nut November: Round 3

All students written as +18

+Round 1 +Round 2 +Round 4 +Bonus Round

Trey Clover

Lasts 20/30 Days

Trey wasn’t too sure about participating. All of the stress he deals with on a daily basis with keeping Riddle in check and rounding up the freshmen, it’s just more that adds to the problem. But, he can’t say no to you either.

And because of his inability to refuse, the next 20 days are a downhill snowball of stress and hormones.

Week one is already a mess.

Riddle is throwing a tantrum. Ace and Deuce are causing problems. Cater is running off somewhere to take pictures. There’s an UnBirthday party that needs 30 different types of tarts ready in the next 2 hours. Some freshmen lost the hedgehogs for said party. And now you’re sending him lewd photos.

Everyone started to steer clear of the older brother figure, noticing how he looked ready to rip someone’s head off of their shoulders. His blood vessels ready to burst.

The air around him was only getting tense and more threatening as the days passed. At one point Ace and Deuce begged you to check in on Trey.

You felt bad, knowing that you were the cause of the added stress by suggesting he participate in the silly challenge. You decide to bring a peace offering to Trey on day 20, hoping to cheer him on and congratulate him on his hard work. A small bag of hand made candied violets you had to swat Grim away from eating.

You entered Heartslabyul and went to Trey’s room, hoping to surprise him with the treats. Instead, you caught him sitting at the edge of his bed. His tight fisted grip wrapped around his erection as he panted out your name. He glared at you as you stood shocked in the doorway.

“… Are you going to come in and finish what you started?”

Jack Howl

Lasts 14/30 Days

He wasn't viewing No Nut November as a serious challenge. How hard could it be? All he needs to do is keep his hands to himself. Easy.

Jack is a modest person, not needing to think of such things, but… When the rule is enforced that he’s not allowed to or supposed to it makes life much harder.

You choose to tease him, running your hands through the soft fur on his tail, sitting in his lap during your free periods together, and casually rubbing over his strong arms and thick thighs.

He doesn’t understand your sudden handsy attitude, but it clicks when you cup his pecs and squish your face right in between. It’s because of the stupid challenge.

All of the attention leaves his tail wagging, expecting more only to be left alone to try and get over the newfound burn deep in his stomach. He wants your attention. He misses your kisses. Why are you guys doing this again?

Jack is whimpering outside your door, early in the morning of day 14 of the challenge. The sun had just began to peek over the horizon. He sounds hurt and you open the door to Ramshackle and see him standing there with folded ears.

“Is it okay if we throw in the towel… I’m not saying I’m giving up because it’s hard… But I feel… Lonely. I guess.”

The lone wolf felt lonely? Well, it’s your job to change that.

Riddle Rosehearts

Lasts 10/30 Days

“Absolutely not.”

Riddle refused the request for him to join in on the fun event known as No Nut November. At first he thought it was a food related month, raising awareness to those allergic to nuts. But he was wrong, and disgusted.

He already has enough stress, it’s not that he can’t handle a bit of self restraint, but this challenge is childish. And he will not be taking any parts. But once you start begging, he cracks and agrees. But he won’t be having fun.

For the next few days, Riddle complains to you over text that this challenge is stupid. And you only respond with lewd photos, hoping to get him riled up. He spams your inbox to hide said photos from any passing students who may have glanced at his phone.

He’s angry with you trying to mess with him, you asked him to participate! Why are you causing issues on purpose?! He doesn’t understand your morbid sense of humor!

You live for the sight of his red face, frustrated and annoyed with you, but Riddle Rosehearts also has a short fuse. And he was ready to explode.

On day 10. Your antics were put to a stop as he demanded you come to his room and accept your punishment. He was officially forfeiting.

He won’t be playing along with this anymore if you won’t behave long enough to make it through the month. Why should he play along?

Silver

Completes the 30 Days

"The what?"

Silver (like Malleus) does not have the necessary brain capacity to conjure up boobies on his own in the first place. So, when you ask him to play along for No Nut November he agrees, but he doesn't understand what he's supposed to do.

When you send him a few pics in hopes of throwing him off, he is actually honored to receive them. You're left flustered by his compliments and how he praises your dedication to photography.

Part of you feels guilty within the first week as Silver sheepishly tells you he asked his father about this challenge to understand it better. He will try to take it more seriously! You waved it off, imagining Silver with a stern pout and crossed arms.

But, later that night, around Day 8, you woke up feeling warm. Unusually warm.

Silver was slotted between your thighs, thrusting shallowly as he sheathed himself inside of you. You nearly came on the spot, shuddering as you stared in shock at the sleepy looking Silver.

"Father taught me in games like this, it's an eye for an eye."

And an eye is what he took. Along with all of your gasping breaths as you were pushed to the verge of an orgasm almost everyday. Good thing he finished the month out strong, because you’re ready to kick down his door on December 1st.

Floyd Leech

Lasts 25/30 Days

He asks YOU to join in on the game, a test of endurance and it sounds fun. His arms are wrapped tightly around you, squeezing and nearly crushing your bones until you accept his request.

You want to take the chance to try and tease Floyd, but he knows your ins and outs. All the tricks you had up your sleeve? He keeps them in his left pants pocket. And then-some. His hands are sliding around your throat, cupping playfully at your chest. Around the first few days he was dry humping you in the library hidden behind the bookcases.

It’s fine if you don’t cum right? Do your best Shrimpy!~!

You find yourself becoming more and more frustrated and antsy when you see Floyd, waiting for some kind of edging as the month goes on, but closer to day 15, he starts keeping his distance. Half way from the end of November.

Where’s all that bravado? The teasing touches, pinches, and bruising kisses? You took the chance to start to mess with Floyd, he had his chances to tug you around like a rag doll. You needed vengeance!

You started pinching him during classes, seating yourself in his lap, and just like him pouncing on you in the library, you pushing him into a closet just to suck on his neck before sending him back to class.

You wanted to torture him for the final fifteen days… And your mission was almost a success. After ten days of Floyd’s personal hell, he had enough. It’s only fun when he does it to you, not vice versa!

You were back in the storage closet, folded in half against the wall as he thrusted into you, moaning into your ear with a sharp toothed grin.

“We both suck at this huh? Shrimpy?”

Jamil Viper

Lasts 27/30 Days

Jamil wasn't taking your request seriously when you asked him the previous night before if he would be playing along with this years No Nut November

You're joking right?

He begrudgingly accepts your request for him to participate. Crossed arms and loud sigh included as you began cheering him on to do his best.

The first few days he shockingly stumbled through due to your barrage of lewd photos and delicate touches through classes. His self control is higher than the average student attending NRC, but he is still human.

Day 7, he invited you to the library after classes ended for thhe day. When you arrived, Jamil snatched you up by your arm and shoved you up against a wall. There were no other students around to witness the sight of his leg shoved between yours as he growled at you.

"Enough. You asked ME to participate in this stupid game."

You did stop with your taunting and teasing. But only for a few days. You made it worse on Jamil around day 14. Why? Because who was he to stop you. If he decided to punish you, you could just keep the antics up afterwards.

As the month reached the end, so did the thin stretch of Jamil Vipers patience.

You don't know how he caught you off guard in Ramshackle, but you began to strip under the power of his hypnotism. Don't play the timid role of shocked or surprised now. These are the consequences of your actions.

Now, apologize. And take things seriously next year.

[xxgoblin-dumplingxx]

Stop right now. I need some adventures of tiny batmom!?

Dr. Abigail Smith had never wanted children. They were loud, unruly, and messy. And in her perfectly ordered life there was no room for that nonsense.

But. When a 12-year-old girl got the drop on them and tore the cult they'd been sent to stop apart with some well placed Molotov cocktails thrown at ammunition they didn't know existed. When she screamed and it was this primal, furious sound that made her heart break. Screaming for a baby they'd ripped out of her body- Dr. Abigail Smith couldn't just leave her behind.

Intelligent though practically illiterate- it was decided that the best place for her was in the care of the female operatives. Where she could be trained and educated. Men scared her. Loud noises scared her. She crept through the tunnels always expecting to be hit. Any minor mistake set her to flinching when you walked towards her.

In the last two weeks, no one had gotten more than a few words out of her. She ate- a lot. Anything they'd give her. Snacks, meals if Abigail hadn't seen the medical reports, she'd suspect a tapeworm OR that the girl was powered by a small black hole.

And now, she stood, tucked in a shadowy corner near a staircase, following the sound of the agents laughing. Watching as they settled in to watch movies. Tense- ready to bolt at the first sign someone noticed her. Abigail moved slowly keeping her hands relaxed and visible, "76?"

"Doctor," you answered, your eyes not meeting Abigail's.

"We've got some snacks for the movie," she coaxed, feeling ridiculous. This wasn't a wild animal. But it was the only thing she knew that might keep you from hiding in your closet. The bed being too soft and too exposed for sleeping on. "Are you hungry? I think Chelle and Danya made some cookies. And there's popcorn."

Abigail held out a hand for you to take and wiggled her fingers, feeling oddly comforted when tiny, freezing fingers wrap around hers carefully.

If the other agents noticed, no one said anything as they watched Abbie put her new pet project on a stool and ply her with snacks- you were too cute and too traumatized for any of them to dislike you.

The lights turned down and the movie started and Abbie quietly took a seat- far enough from you to give you space to bolt but close enough that you could speak to her- and when the movie credits started, her heart broke.

You leaned forward just a little, entranced. The only sign you were paying attention was your stillness. The snacks she'd put on a plate for you were ignored and your pupils were huge. Reminding her irresistibly of a cat with a laser pointer. At points, tears slid down your little face and it wasn't until the movie ended and the lights went up that you looked around, blinking at the change.

"Got something you want to ask Santa for?" she tried.

"Santa wouldn't care about me," you shrug, "Even if he was real."

"How do you know-"

"Father said he was made up. And Christmas was just pagan-"

"Well if your father said it, isn't that a better reason to believe?" she asked, teasing lightly. This was the most you'd said since you gave your statement for their records.

"Pretty sure murderers don't get put on the nice list."

And before she can say anything, you're gone. With your snacks. Suddenly feeling too exposed and too anxious to be anywhere but the corner of your closet where you'd made your little nest.